Kelley Stoltz does a mean Brian Wilson, a half-decent Roger McGuinn, a spot-on Marc Bolan. He's got a Tom Petty, a Nick Drake, and a David Bowie that wouldn't get him kicked out of Vegas. Throughout Stoltz's decade-plus career, one name that hasn't always found its way into the discussion is his own; too often bedraggled by their influences, his songs-- never less than competent juxtapositions of glam, folk-rock, orchestral pop, and hints of proto-psych-- can feel like the work of a gifted stylist searching for a style to call his own. Stoltz's latest, To Dreamers, finds him dressing down the pocket symphonies that marked his two previous Sub Pop efforts, throwing a little more grease and grit at his well-oiled tunes. To Dreamers is one of Stoltz's most satisfying efforts to date, sounding bolder and more invigorated than nearly anything before it. Yet, when Stoltz sneers "Do you want to rock'n'roll with me?", exactly who's doing the asking gets a little lost in the tune's glammy shuffle.
Stoltz, a San Francisco mainstay with a decidedly backward-looking sound, has watched a little like-minded scene build up around him over the last few years; the Bay Area's been hemorrhaging great psych-pop revival acts of late, many of whom Stoltz can count as friends and collaborators. Bands like Sonny & the Sunsets (for whom Stoltz has been drumming) and the Fresh & Onlys may, like Stoltz, have the dust settings in their tube amps dialed in just so, and To Dreamers' uptick in rockers slots it in nicely with this scene. But the standouts in this crowd are cutting their retro pastiche with daring, funny, distinctive songcraft that tends to obscure any notions of excessive borrowing. To Dreamers' homespun style and its uptick in straight-up rockers slots it in nicely with this thriving scene, especially as Stoltz moves away from Nick Drake delicacy and Brian Wilson idolatry towards a looser, rockier sound. But no matter who he's gunning for, the ever-adaptable Stoltz, unlike some of his newfound contemporaries, still seems uncomfortable peeling off the costumes and letting a little more of himself shine through.
Like his previous work, To Dreamers is a mostly solitary pursuit, with Stoltz handling the lion's share of instrumentation and production himself. Yet even alone in the studio, Stoltz tends to get crowded out by his influences. His voice-- generally easygoing yet plenty chameleonic-- tends to adapt to the style of the music he's emulating; he drawls and draws out syllables like Petty on "Keeping the Flame", channels Ray Davies' terse early delivery on the Kinksish "Little Girl", and while he stops short of karaoke, there is a sense that this one's the Bowie song, this one's the T. Rex, and so forth. Lyrically, Stoltz isn't so much a phrase-turner as a place-setter, opting for the kind of identifiable sentiment that marks many of his influences; he may land a chorus in your head, but chances are you won't be taking the verse lyrics with you. His melodies are unwaveringly graceful, good humored, approachable; they're just not all that arresting on a case-by-case basis, and time and again, the best moves on To Dreamers seem channeled from anywhere but Stoltz's cellar.
To Dreamers hinges around "Baby I've Got News For You", a cover of a shuffly 1965 number from British garage-popster "Big Boy" Pete Miller. Miller himself appears on the track, laying down some guitar through the very same amp on which he recorded the original. Perhaps in deference to his special guest, Stoltz's "Baby" is awfully faithful; it's a nice song in either context, but if you've only got one life to live, the Miller version's a little pluckier, and better for it. The tune plugs along charmingly enough until its bridge, at which point Stoltz and Miller sing, "Some folks are content to exist in a small tent/ I want a mansion with room for expansion." It's an unusually strident, ambitious statement for the modest Stoltz; no wonder he didn't write it. To Dreamers seems to suggest that Stoltz really is content in his little world, crafting elaborate, enjoyable enough mash notes to his favorite records in his basement.
