First Impressions: Head in the Sand by Sean Thompson’s Weird Ears

I walked into the Cat’s Cradle Back Room last April unaware of the Sean Thompson’s Weird Ears—the opening act—but, as I joked in my review of that night’s Mikaela Davis and Southern Star show, “Give a man a guitar solo and you make a man a fan.” Thompson and his rhythm section unleashed a sonic tsunami that night, reminding me of the fabled tie-dyed era that, as a teenager in the late 1970s and early ’80s, I’d longed to be a part of. “Somewhere back in time there’s a place I wanna go/But I know it’s just my ego,” he sings on “New Memories,” one of the stalwart songs on his new long player, Head in the Sand. He’s quoted as saying, “This album is a diary entry. A time capsule. A sonic outline of difficult experiences paired with musical growth.”

The album’s songs were inspired by a string of sad events that turned his world upside down: the death of his dog, the loss of his mom, and the implosion of a relationship. As he explains on the closing “Song From the Heart,” “They say write about what you know/So I write about what time has grown.” But there’s also this: “Too many cliche memories/And I can’t tell them apart/Formulas and big machines/I just wanna sing from the heart.” Throughout the 10 tracks, he grapples with the emotional tumult with wit, metaphor and the occasional guitar solo. The music is jazz-imbued rock one moment, bucolic odes that bite the next, i.e. a mix of taut grooves and laidback analysis. “Storm’s Comin’ Tonight,” for its part, is a heady weather forecast that predicts tough times in the offing; here’s a live version he shared last week:

You’ll be mistaken if you think you heard snippets of several tunes early in the extended cut of the Woodstock documentary, perhaps during the pastoral scenes of hippies frolicking in the green fields. There’s a retro feel throughout, in other words, that includes his lyrics. “Riding in the Van,” for instance, poses tough questions about his life that should resonate with most everyone: “I don’t know why I do the things I do/Am I searching for some kind of truth/So all the seasons I been through/Aren’t just all in vain/On the way to the gig riding in the van.” If he doesn’t soldier on, does that mean it was all for naught? (The answer, of course, is no; there are no dead ends in life, just undiscovered pathways.)

It’s a strong outing that’s buttressed, for those who order the LP via Bandcamp, by engaging live renditions of “Roll on Buddy” and “Riding in the Van.” Highly recommended.