When Califone first came on the scene in 1998 they were hard to distinguish from the recently defunct Sub Pop band Red Red Meat. Both outfits were led by Chicago scene vet Tim Rutili, both featured emerging producer Brian Deck as a band member and sonic mastermind, both offered broken-down and narcotic spins on blues and folk with evocative titles that played on the gritty imagery of machines ("To Hush a Sick Transmission", "Sad Cadillac"). For people who had followed Red Red Meat through the 90s, from their noisy early recordings that put them in league with Royal Trux through their supremely crafted, final two albums that found them in full studio-as-instrument mode, Califone felt very much like an extension of that main band. Eventually, Califone would explore more gentle and song-oriented material as well as delving into pure soundtrack work, and would develop their own idenity-- but during the time of their self-titled 1998 and 2000 EPs, they were pretty much a slightly lower-fi Red Red Meat.
That once-fuzzy line is blurred further on the vinyl reissue of Sometimes Good Weather Follows Bad People, a set that gathers Califone's first two EPs. Both were initially self-titled and issued on small labels (Flydaddy and Road Cone) and they were first gathered together under this title in 2002. So this is in a sense a reissue of a reissue, but this 2xLP edition of Good Weather, in addition to its fine packaging, adds potentially enticing extras on side four: 17 minutes of unreleased Red Red Meat material, culled from their final recording sessions.
The two EPs, spread across the first three sides, still sound great. Rutili and co. were up to something special in the final years of the 20th century. They took sonic inspiration from ancient folk 78s and Jamaican dub, along with songwriting and arrangement inspiration from Tom Waits, and came up with a fresh and affecting music that ranged from ethereal slowcore to blistering noise. In comparison to late Red Red Meat, Califone was a little quieter, a little prettier, and a little wearier. The highlights on the EPs are delicate ballads like the steel drum-inflected "Silvermine Pictures" and the gorgeous piano-led "Electric Fence", but spikier cuts like "To Hush a Sick Transmission" and "Dock Boggs" showed how they integrated clangy percussion and electronics into the mix. The rawness of this early material still resonates.
The four new songs on the final side, however, don't transcend "bonus track" status. "Bath Water" is a winding ballad with a reasonably catchy chorus hook, but it sounds like an ultra-simple and stripped down demo, something laid to tape just to preserve the basics of the song. "June Rat" is sung by Tim Hurley and feels like a sketch. The RRM version of "Pastry Sharp" is simple, highlighting the strong melody but missing from the atmosphere of Califone's studio version. The full-band take on "A Horse-Sized Pill" is the one song that seems like it could fit on a proper Red Red Meat album, though it's very similar to (and is seriously outclassed by) Bunny Gets Paid's "Rosewood, Stax, Volts and Glitter".
As bonus material goes, it's all fine, and hardcore RRM/Califone completists (and let's face it, there aren't many of us out there) will appreciate the look at material in its formative stages. But most people will give that fourth side a single play at most. The first three, though, hold up nicely, capturing one small-scale and deceptively interesting band as it molted and emerged from another.
