The Graceful Maturation of a Punk Icon

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The New York Sun

Artists retreat from public view and certain questions follow: What are they doing in there? Woodshedding? Have they gone crazy? Are they strung out? Is Zen Buddhism somehow involved?


We last heard from Tom Verlaine back in 1992, when the co-founder of the New York punk outfit Television released the instrumental album “Warm and Cool.” In the same year, Television issued a self-titled reunion album and started playing a few shows at regular intervals. Everyone assumed another solo album would soon follow. It didn’t.


It turns out Verlaine was working all along, out of the spotlight – scoring independent films, as well as touring and recording with fellow punk icon Patti Smith. His fans’ patience will be rewarded this week with Thrill Jockey’s release of two solo albums, “Songs and Other Things” and “Around.”


Despite his ear for melodic hooks and poetic language, Verlaine has always been identified as a guitarist first. While punk colleagues focused on stripping rock to its short-fast-loud essence, Verlaine and Television’s second guitarist, Richard Lloyd, indulged in instrumental exploration. Their live performances of such garage-rock nuggets as “Little Johnny Jewel” stretched into lengthy improvisations that could fill an entire LP side. Some derided them as the Grateful Dead of punk (a serious allegation in those days), but Television’s two proper albums fell into the right hands, and the band’s transcendent shows had already secured its legend by the time it split up in 1978.


Few would place Verlaine’s solo work from the 1980s alongside the Television classic “Marquee Moon,” but he produced several fine albums, including “Dreamtime” and “Flashlight.” Though never a technically adept singer, he developed a knack for clever phrasing, finding ways to fit his reedy, eternally youthful yelp into new musical forms.


The entirely instrumental “Around” is striking first for its contextual variety. While the influences vary quite a bit from track to track, the album has the integrity of a connected series of short vignettes. With so much feeling contained in such a stripped-down setting, it’s easy to see why film directors came calling.


The first song, “The O of Adore,” Verlaine plays alone. He finds his way back to the recorded realm with a spindly, meandering melody, the carefully bent notes and strummed drone suggesting the tonality of a sitar. This Eastern flavor recurs frequently on “Around,” and on moody cuts like “Flame” and “The Sun’s Gliding,” Verlaine uses a slide to give the music an open, searching, psychedelic sensibility. This results in tracks that are cosmic without being drippy.


Elsewhere on “Around,” the song structures are tighter and more direct, with key contributions from bassist Patrick Derivaz and drummer Billy Ficca. The repeating bass figure and loose melody on “Rain, Sidewalk” sounds like a jazz trio in an Eastern European mode, and Verlaine’s plucked lead bounces with the jaunty step of klezmer. The witty “Wheel Broke” draws on the instrumental rock ‘n’ roll guitar tradition stretching back to Duane Eddy and Link Wray; Verlaine offers a rare tip of the hat to the blues in the lumbering riff and pointed accents.


“Songs and Other Things” opens with an instrumental piece, “A Parade In Littleton.” This is strikingly different from the tone of “Around” – much more sparkly and pop. Verlaine subjects his guitar to a gurgling, aquatic processing that harks back to the new wave sound he helped invent. Despite the moody noir of the slow tempos and half-spoken lyrics on “Heavenly Charm” and “Orbit,” the general feeling of “Songs and Other Things” is reflective and upbeat.


If Verlaine’s label were in a position to select songs for radio, “From Her Fingers” would make an interesting choice. It’s the sort of jittery and tuneful post-punk on which such revivalists as the Strokes and Franz Ferdinand have made their names, and it’s a sound Verlaine has had in his arsenal for a quarter-century.


“All Weirded Out” is almost as good, driven by a stomping riff and an undeniable chorus hook. Verlaine occasionally looks to the droning guitars of the Television days, as with “The Day on You,” on which he duets with himself in a swirl of chiming harmonics. But generally he concerns himself with the core elements of songwriting: chord structure, melody, and wordplay. All told, “Songs and Other Things” ranks with Verlaine’s best solo albums.


The rock scene Verlaine re-enters in 2006 is vastly different from the one he departed in 1992. But if he paid attention to pop trends during the last 14 years, these albums don’t reflect it. With some artists, this kind of inward focus can lead to ossification; in Verlaine’s case, it seems more like the mark of a man who believes in himself. The concept of maturity has lost some currency in our culture, but these two fine records are reminders of its virtue.


The New York Sun

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