boys in the wood
postcards from midnight
bio + interview | reviews | buy it! | songs | sounds | lyrics | credits
bio + interview
After a six-year hiatus from music-making, ex-Sour Landslide bassist Vern Nicholson reacquaints himself with the muse and proudly announces the release of Postcards From Midnight, the debut CD from Boys In The Wood. Though each of the album’s 15 songs were written, produced, and performed solo, Vern chose to credit the album to a band—albeit one that exists only conceptually. “I've always preferred to hide behind a band name,” he admits with a smile, “and ‘Boys In The Wood’ has a searching, naive and slightly mysterious quality that really evokes what I’m trying to do. I’d say that my music roughly parallels whatever personal quest I’m engaged in at the time.”The album features six songs rescued from the vaults, together with nine new numbers recorded at Vern's home studio, The Grinning Zone. “I didn’t have enough old stuff for a full album, but in listening to it again, I felt it was too good to sit there, unheard. The new material has a somewhat different feel, but it doesn’t much matter—each song is pretty much an island unto itself anyway,” he chuckles. Indeed: with styles ranging from the frenzied mod whirlwind of the title track to funereal dissonance (Two Dead Hearts), from sprightly Latin-tinged pop (Which Way Does The Wind Blow) to jangly, wistful folk-rock (We Howl), listeners certainly have plenty of flavours to choose from.
Vern prefers it that way. “My natural tendency is to be the Human White Album. If I draw from any tradition, I suppose it’s that sort of eclecticism. I’m thinking of challenging myself with my next project to record an album that has a sound that stays consistent throughout. I mean, think of anything from Dylan’s John Wesley Harding to the first Jam album. The sound of the record sets the mood, and the trick is to create some stylistic variation in the songwriting, because you’ve imposed this discipline onto the proceedings with uniform sound and instrumentation. But this time, I chose to showcase what I like to call the multiple personalities of Boys In The Wood, as produced by some lo-fi mad scientist—Phil Spector let loose with an 8-track! You know, I finally started playing, writing and recording again when I remembered just how much fun it is to make music.”
Despite Vern’s affection and enthusiasm for the recording process, many of the songs reflect sadness, heartbreak, and pain. “Yes,” he confirms. “The songs are mostly autobiographical and were written over a 15-year period that has seen all sorts of highs, lows and weirdness in general. As an introvert, I suppose I need to write about myself, just to get it out somehow. I find it easier to embellish based on my own experience rather than invent scenarios and characters. The challenge is to create an authentic form of self-expression that transcends confessional, dear-diary narcissism; though I suppose a few of the songs fall into the latter category despite my best editorial efforts! It’s funny. Sometimes a situation that is bloody horrible to live through as raw experience is so extremely vivid and rich that if you simply pay attention and take good notes, you end up with an amazing piece of work. You don’t have to embellish a thing; just let the event be what it was and tell you whatever it needs to. Writing it down, putting it to music and recording it completes the catharsis.”
Having said that, a certain joie de vivre boldly asserts itself from time to time over the course of Postcards From Midnight: in the lilting, prancing mock-calypso guitar solo that graces Plug In And Turn It On; the spine-tingling choral round that punctuates We Are Now Open; the delicate, plaintive expression of wonder, beauty, and gratitude that is The Goddess, Ascending In Love; that chiming, soaring one-note guitar riff that pushes the fade of Tree Of Life right through the stratosphere. “Yeah, the joy is always lurking about somewhere," Vern says. "Thankfully, life manifests in many flavours, many dimensions. I’ve been fortunate to have had some truly delicious glimpses of the reality beyond—but it’s both beyond and right here. Otherwise, how could we see it in the first place? I’m sounding like Nigel from Spinal Tap turned Zen master, I know! But for those of us who lead challenged lives—and in a way, who among us doesn’t—I like to believe that the universe takes care to throw enough jewels our way to hold our interest. The trick is to fine-tune your mental apparatus such that you can see them. I can't always pull it off, but I’m grateful for the times that I've been able to."
“Filled with straightforward hooks, harmonies, and sprightly vocals. There’s a Wilco A.M./Big Star-cum-Replacements jangle on a song like 'We Howl,' and many others remind me of bands like The Windbreakers, early Soul Asylum, and R.E.M. in many of their ‘80s incarnations. Very highly recommended.” – Bruce Brodeen, Not Lame Recordings
buy it!
I plan to have my own online store eventually, but it's a little much to deal with at the moment. In the meantime, Postcards From Midnight can be purchased from the following fine purveyors of pop:- Victimless Capitalism (for Canadian customers)
- Not Lame (for U.S. customers)