Nostalgia for nostalgia for nostalgia. Saturday Looks Good to Me's sound is refracted through so many layers of fetish for the past, it's a wonder the time-space continuum isn't ripped every time they put out another album, teleporting Brian Wilson into medieval England or Stephin Merritt into EPCOT. Draw this timeline on a chalkboard: SLGTM clings to the prolific self-release protocol of indie pop (1980s), while attempting to recreate the childhood sensation of listening to dusty, warped 45s (70s) of pop music from the heyday of Motown and Spector (60s).
It's fitting then that Saturday Looks Good to Me's productions often sound like a cassette tape that's been redubbed a few too many times. Slathered with reverb, and occasionally interrupted by broken tape head warbles, the basement music made by Fred Thomas and a cast of dozens could be written off as affected lo-fi pandering, but in the spirit of conducting a séance for the Wall of Sound, it's an appropriate approach: cramming as many elements as possible into a handful of tracks, and putting the resultant technological distortions to good use.
Unless you live in or near Ann Arbor, Mich., it hasn't been easy to be a SLGTM completist-- the band has consistently bled seven-inches and tour EPs since their inception. They have often saved some of their best work for these shorter formats, which makes the Sound on Sound collection more of a highlight reel than a barrel-scrape. Swollen, yes; 30 tracks and 80 minutes is a lot to digest from any band. But its length and unity of purpose allows sufficient time to fully submerge in the band's world-- fuzzy, faded, and a little weird-smelling, like the rec-room blanket.
Whether sung by Thomas' own glottal voice or someone from his extensive guest-singer Rolodex, SLGTM's songs are usually led by the next-room stomp of echo-drenched drums, no matter how much of a pocket orchestra (horns, strings, organs) is thrown on top. But this is no GBV slackery: The sleigh bells and gunshot snare of "Lift Me Up" emulate Motown via transistor radio with meticulous detail, while the sheepish instrumental homage "Pet Store" nails the far-off mono-mix percussion of the Beach Boys' "Let's Go Away for a While". Even when the rhythms are supplied by machines ("It Sounds Like They're in Love with You"), it's the kind of dusty technology you'd expect to find on a Magnetic Fields record, setting up a second timeline parabola stretching from synth-pop to Tin Pan Alley.
As with the Merritt catalog, it sometimes seems like SLGTM's revival of outdated sonic packaging is meant to deflect cynicism toward the sickly sweet sentiments within songs like "Summer Doesn't Count (Unless You're Here with Me)" or "Girl of Mine". In a scene where earnest love songs are almost anachronistic, it only makes sense to clothe them in hand-me-down production and arrangements, even if it means sacrificing the immediate for the sake of memory mining. It's this level of remove that nips at the band's heels, even as they prove themselves capable of filling countless 7"'s with instant oldies and prom themes that never were. Sound on Sound bears testament to this consistency, while it also documents the onion layers of nostalgia that haunt Saturday Looks Good to Me to both positive and negative effect.
