southern records

biography

You could call it a curse, of sorts; just about every band or artist to leave DeSoto at one point or another always seems to end up right back here. Take J. Robbins, who, with Jawbox, released his first single on the label in 1989. After moving on to Dischord, then Atlantic, where can you find Robbins and his Burning Airlines these days? That's right. And The Dismemberment Plan, who left us in 1998 for a poke at the brass ring on Interscope? Uh-huh. Beginning to sense a pattern?

Now, consider the case of Shiner. Upon first working with them in 1995 for their debut single and long-player, we knew that this band was one of the finest and most underrated Rock, with a capital 'R', bands in the country.

Recorded as a three piece, the debut was a jagged and rhythmically intricate record. Despite the many time changes and odd chord voicings, Splay still somehow managed to showcase a gifted ear for songwriting, melody and sheer rhythmic brutality. And contrary to many math-rock trends of the time, Shiner had a gifted vocalist in the ragged blue-eyed soul of Allen Epley. We were hooked.

But these prodigal sons sought not necessarily greener, but, well, different pastures for their ensuing two albums. For what seemed like solid reasons at the time, the band worked with the now-defunct Hit It! for their excellent sophomore release, Lula Divinia. They sought to return for their third and most recent disc, 2000's Starless. But a jammed DeSoto roster sent them to Bill Stevenson's Owned & Operated for label duties.

Despite the label shuffle, the band's ambitions and skills continued to gr ow. With Starless, they considerably broadened their already massive sound with the addition of Josh Newton on second guitar and keys, and drumming uberkind Jason Gerken. Epley & Co.'s songwriting began to rely less exclusively on the rhythmic and harmonic fireworks of the past, instead focusing on connection and contiguity. Starless was almost a concept album, after a fashion, loaded with shades of things to come.

Which brings us to The Egg. Returning to DeSoto at the peak of their form, 'The Shiner' has crafted an album that joins the math-inflected styles of Splay and Lula Divinia with the song-craft and high concept of Starless. Produced by J. Robbins (The Promise Ring, The Dismemberment Plan, Jets to Brazil), The Egg's eleven tracks kick off with a slow jam that betrays the band's Midwestern roots: 'Truth About Cows', like many Shiner songs, runs you over like the four horsemen of the apocalypse driving tanks. But the chorus hangs on a pretty melody that flexes Shiner's strongest muscle: restraint.

The album is packed with such considered surprises. Take 'Surgery', the second track: amidst a maelstrom of guitars impassionedly arguing over religion and the thud of a down-tuned bass and Gerken's massive foot, you catch the ever-so-subtle backing vocal: 'bop-bop ... bop'. These aren't just producerly tricks, mind you, but elemental to an understanding of Shiner's vision. The Egg is loaded with such crafty rewards for the careful listener.

The Egg is, in fact, a perfect album for rock nerds. Carry on to track three, the radio-friendly but no less complex 'Play Dead': the sound is thick not with studio frippery and multi-tracked guitars, but genuinely intricate, considered musicianship and attention to infinite detail. This is music that cuts through the crap like a razor through an eyeball. Some songs crush the unwary with sheer mass; others float and shimmer in an other-worldly glow. Some songs fly, others pour like syrup, or bricks. Shiner is in essence trying to do what bands are told not to do: be many things to many people. Enjoy yourself as you witness them pull it off.