Digging Deep : The Coming Grass explode home with Beauty of a Heart

Sam Pfeifle, December 9, 2005

When his hard-drive failed, Nate Schrock decided the record was done. That sounds like the beginning to an electronica review, so it may seem strange to now read me describe one of the most authentic, warmest new releases I've put on my stereo in a long time. That's recording technology these days, though Schrock employed a bunch of tube mic pre-amps and an old Trident board borrowed from the Studio's Steve Drown, once used to record the Who and David Bowie, and boiled it all down to digital "tape" as he spent the last two years or so creating the new Coming Grass record, Beauty of a Heart, which the band release December 13.

Rather than cause for alarm, however, the hard-drive failure was more of a confirmation of the whole gestalt of immediacy Schrock was rolling with on the record anyway. "We're not Wilco making A Ghost Is Born, certainly," he says. "Transient [from 2003] was a lot more reworking and work, and I like it okay, but I wanted something more perpetual, more in tune with the band members."

"Dig Deep," a tune fronted and penned by Schrock's wife Sara Cox that appears in a more stripped-down form on GFAC 207, Volume 6, is a perfect example. "Justin [Maxwell] kind of came up with the accordion part all on his own," says Schrock. And while it doesn't completely transform the melancholy song, it does lend considerable and appropriate depth. Cox almost seems to have risen to the challenge, infusing the album version with additional vocal parts, from "bop-bops" to an echo of herself in the chorus.

While Schrock and Cox are credited with writing all of the words and music here, there's no doubt that full-time Grassers Ginger Cote (drums), Maxwell (bass), and Steve Jones (guitars) contribute greatly to the final product and sound. And there's help too from guests like singer/songwriter Megan Jo Wilson, fiddler Andy Happel, and vocalist Steve Chadbourne.

"When they come to me with ideas," says Schrock, "I just kind of make sure to record it right away because they have great ideas, and they're great players we don't spend a lot of time hashing shit out."

Other times, Schrock just takes care of things himself. "Chasing" is a cool, all-Schrock finger-picked acoustic number that wouldn't sound much out of place on the next Micah Blue Smaldone record. The recording feels like a document, like we caught Schrock unawares, having fun running up to the D turnaround that finishes each verse. "You got no cure for forgiveness," Schrock breathes as the song threatens a few times to fade out before fulfilling its promise.

Much of the album shares this nostalgic, by-gone feel. The opening of the Cox tune "Polly" will make you pine for "Gimme Shelter" as the drums rattle around and the guitar whines in the background before the band launch into a rocking chorus, Cote's drums sounding just like Keith Moon or Ginger Baker. That's no mistake: "It's going through my head every couple days," Schrock says of Stones tunes like "Shelter" and "Street Fighting Man." Considering the album's intended sound, "I just said screw it, this is what I know, this is what I like," says Schrock. "I wasn't worried about trying to invent a new sound." Wilson, a kind of Cox disciple, helps out in the chorus here and after the second time around there's a jam constituting a loose bridge before we're treated to one of those great finishing choruses where Cox growls and digs for just a bit more emotion (think Spencer Albee's finish to "So Good," which is getting good play on WCLZ he and Cox are somewhat similar songwriters, come to think of it, using pop constructions, but with a bitter edge).

Speaking of Cox's songwriting, long-time fans will appreciate the new take on "Sugar," which appeared on Cox's 2000 EP, Firewater (out of print, really, but I saw a copy at Bull Moose the other day when I was Christmas shopping you can't beat local music for stocking stuffers). Here, Cox effuses a pop-country sass like Loretta Lynn or June Carter Cash, turning a crying-in-your-beer song into a cowboy tune along with an upbeat guitar tone that belies lyrics like: "Those empty days, spent counting cracks on the wall." Cox plays along, drawling about a "kissin' fool" and begging, "Baby, don't let your sugar turn hard/ It's too hard to taste that way/ Baby don't let your sugar turn hard/ I'll melt it anyway."

It'll buckle your knees.

This kind of emotion is what the Coming Grass have always done best over their three albums. There's never a cheap laugh or an insincere tug on the heartstring. If you're looking for a nuanced ballad, you can't do much better than "Exploding Home," even featuring some rare backup vocals from Cote. It's got a "Heart of Gold" rhythm to it, though it's not all that Neil Young, and about midway through, Schrock sings simply, "I play guitar . . . gave up the will to change the world."

That's pretty admirable, and I couldn't ask for much more.

Sam Pfeifle can be reached at sam@phx.com

Issue Date: December 9 - 15, 2005