My brother resides in Santa Cruz. When I last visited, I heard a Doors cover band playing a house party overlooking the beach. At the time, I was burying myself headfirst in the sand. Okay, the city boasts three homegrown serial killers (thank you, Answer Me) and my brother told me Killer Klowns From Outer Space's finale was filmed on the Santa Cruz boardwalk, but I've yet to figure out how the otherwise mellow enclave inspired Comets On Fire and Residual Echoes to beat the stuffing out of fret boards. Guess I ought to investigate the next time I'm in town: There must be a darker, brackish stream flowing beneath the salted surfers, hippies, coffee shops, and organic markets.
Whatever their place of origin, Residual Echoes are a fluctuating troupe led by Adam Payne, who's earned support and endorsements from Comets' Ethan Miller and Six Organs of Admittance's Ben Chasny. At the time of Phoenician Flu and Ancient Ocean's recording, the live band was a sextet; nowadays, I'm unsure where the numbers stand, but judging from how Payne digs into solos and unravels instruments, he could muster a bottle-rocket orchestra without outside assistance. Imagine MacGyver with a fuzz box.
Following the boogie-woogie thrust of the eponymous debut, Payne and company spend little time worrying about where songs start or stop: Pieces blend and collide into interwoven guitar, horn, bass, piano, "voodoo," and "thunder." It's tighter, relatively speaking, and more downcast than the earlier album. There are seven tracks on the menu-- the first two are strongest. Opener "Death Comes For the Archbishop" grafts feedbacking space-psych with deep-sea excavations (seismic drum shifts and bass pulsations). You could fry an egg on some of its licks. The Hendrixian blaze is followed by "Lorelei", a stoner rock prom theme with fluid soloing.
After that, the restlessness begins to feel increasingly rote. "{G}-x-nou(gh) Part II" is a sludge mountain with thundercrack percussion and Monoshock explosives, but it bores. "Knowe Part I" reintroduces, then demos Nick Drake's "Know", snuffing out the Pink Moon with a 4-track galactic hunt, trumpet overdubs, and the ambience of a hurricane sneaking across an ocean floor. "Greetings Ancient Ocean" is an uninspired, incidentally tender ballad. It made me think of Langhorne Slim. Extended closer "Bleu Eyes" incorporates the Carter Family into its flubbed satellite notes, ring-tone blues riffs, and jazzy vibes.
Only a schlep would deny the mightiness of the riffs, but despite anarchic aims, Phoenician Flu levels into a general flight pattern. In that way, the album (and the band) share a tendency with rockers like Pearls & Brass or maybe Cheeseburger, who understand dynamics and can appear like brilliant firecrackers in small bursts, but over longer hauls have yet to convince me that they'll ever surpass pastiche. Residual Echoes' chaotic debut proved messes are often incredibly gorgeous, with the code cracked, the formula solved, I find it hard to keep listening.
