On our trip north over Labor Day weekend, we swung by the cemetery where my parents are interred. We were crunched for time, unfortunately, and said time was further scrunched by our becoming lost in the endless sea of gravestones; I had to double back to the gate and snag an office worker to guide us to our destination. There’s far more to the story, which I may share one day, but for now: By the time we finally arrived, it was time to leave!
It could well have been a scene from one of the off-kilter comedies my dad enjoyed.
On his fourth solo set, Office Culture bassist Charlie Kaplan delves into what he dubs his “fatherless decade”—the years between the death of his dad and birth of his son. Loss and grief, new life and joy: They are grist for much of poetry and song. It’s normal, after all, to miss loved ones—even when, as is often the case, our relationships were troublesome—and, too, to wish we’d asked the questions we never knew we had until they were gone. The acoustic title track opens with Kaplan scanning the night sky in search of a sign, while electric guitars arc through the stars as if emotive comets on “Halley.” “Transmission” downshifts while delving into the spacetime concept; one theory posits that the past, present and future play out simultaneously; yet, as Kaplan sings, “The only way I’ll see you again is if I/Catch you from the other side.”
“Have a Nice Day,” which is accented by strings, echoes the rock of the early 1970s, while pondering about social media, religion, and microwaves. “Is It Gonna Be Alright?” maintains the old-school sound via Kaplan’s plaintive vocals and guitar, all while wondering about the longterm consequences of climate change: “And while estimates differ/The expert consensus is a/Rapidly approaching anomaly/Locked in the belly of a ship/Sinking in a boiling sea.” “I’m in Love With You,” meanwhile, is a mantra set to a catchy melody and dazzling guitar solo.
“Top of the Tree” finds him retreating to safety in a world gone mad—what many of us have done these past many months, in other words. “No More Mistakes,” meanwhile, reminds me of the Michael McDonald-era Doobie Brothers at its start before shifting into a subject many are sure to identify with. In the press release, he explained, “[I]t’s a song about growing up and accepting responsibilities, and the doubts and resentments that emerge therein. The chorus has a lot of meanings to me, primarily the sense that my future is up to me, the trapeze has no net.” “Fear of Choking” continues upon the same basic topic, with its pop mindset masking an undertow of anxiety that often surfaces when he’s trying to fall asleep. (“I thought it would be funny to write a bouncy, fun song about the myriad ways my imagination proposed I be grievously injured or killed,” he says.)
“No Way Am I,” which sounds a bit like a mix of Toms Waits and Petty, revisits the night sky, while “Leading Man” questions self-perception. “Heaven” mixes black humor with questions about life’s meaning finds him sharing some heartfelt truths about the nature of life and love. “Sandy” returns to the opening “Seaside,” the instrumental bookends sturdy enough to keep the songs between from slipping onto their sides.
He handles guitar and piano, and is accompanied throughout by Andrew Daly Frank on lead guitar, Winston Cook-Wilson (Office Culture) on keys and string arrangements, Jason Burger (Scree) on drums, and Julian Cubillos (Okkervil River, the Antlers, Little Mystery) on bass. Singer-songwriters Caitlin Pasko and Ian Wayne provide backing vocals, while Nico Hedley contributes guitar feedback, and Zosha Warpeha and Kristen Drymala handle the strings.
I often stumble across comments online about the sad state of current rock music, usually from folks who look no further than whatever recommendations Spotify serves up. From where I sit, however, the past year has seen a slew of strong rock-oriented albums. A Hat Upon the Bed is another one. It connects with both the gut and intellect, artfully teasing out themes about life, loss, grief, and the anxieties that keep many of us up late at night.
The Old Grey Cat 