Indie label heads and music scribes alike might rail against the increasingly ludicrous reissue trend, wherein the past obfuscates the present—or rather, the past blocks out the present on 180 gram pink splatter vinyl—but it continues unabated. Reissue culture tilts critical scales and gums up record pressing plants, and it’s not enough now to simply reissue a forgotten album and allow it bask in the spotlight of public consciousness for one fleeting moment more. Forgotten records–no matter how obscure—now receive additional adornment in the form of feature-length documentaries, reunion tours, and demo-scraping follow-ups, all wringing out every last drop of interest in the original record.
When LITA reissued Sixto Rodriguez’s two studio albums back in 2008, it sparked an Academy-winning documentary film and countless sold-out stadium shows. Drag City unearthed the raw power of Death, which led to a documentary, a tour with the surviving members, and two more demo-scraping albums. It’s but two examples of this exhaustive trend. Donnie & Joe Emerson, the two rural Washington farm boys who had a log cabin studio replete with “Camp Jammin’” concert venue built for the teen boys to realize their musical vision in, were beneficiaries of this reissue trend as well. And the reissue of forgotten homemade album, Dreamin’ Wild, was well-deserved, meaning that some four decades after having that dream go unrealized, the brothers got to play their first-ever live shows in Seattle and New York City. **
Still Dreamin’ Wild: The Lost Recordings 1979-81 presents that secondary stage of reissue culture, culling demos in the years after the younger Emerson graduated high school and began traveling to Los Angeles in the hopes of realizing his teenage dreams. Older brother Joe was already turning his attentions to the family farm, his presence only heard on two of the album’s twelve tracks. Donnie’s polymath musical skills are on full display, from drums to poly-Moog synth, and his ability to mimic the more popular hits on the radio of the day remains uncanny.
While Dreamin’ Wild seemed to float just out of its time, Still Dreamin’ for the most part embraces the tropes of early '80s pop radio. Had “Overture” lasted beyond a half-minute, it might have been a lost Panda Bear track, but it instead leads into the clean guitars and drums of “Don’t Fight.” The uptempo “Big Money”, featuring brother Joe’s walloping drums, is an album highlight, even if it only lasts two minutes.
That perceived “songs of innocence” sentiment of Dreamin’ Wild is tempered a bit here. “Ride the Tide” is about a lady in Los Angeles who comes and goes, a surfer girl who toys with the country boy’s heart. Donnie’s layered vocals convey that sense of confusion and heartbreak, but the chintzy synth line and tinny drums undercut it. Same goes for “Everybody Knows It”, whose synth presets border on karaoke backing track. The guitar tone of “Ooh Baby Yeah” evokes Big Star for a moment, before it smoothes out into a pedestrian oldies track.
Rather than the wonder and sincere ache of something like “My Heart” or “Baby” from Dreamin’ Wild, the album too often brings up memories of treacly early '80s AOR, from Don Henley to Jackson Browne to Kenny Loggins. That isn't inherently a bad thing: In another world, I can envision Donnie Emerson opening for the likes of the War on Drugs, who similarly take the most cringeworthy of '80s productions styles and amalgamate them into something transcendent. In the review of 'Dreamin Wild, I cited the likes of Chuck Mangione, Bread, and Boz Scaggs, but this time around, these songs fail to transcend such influences.
