I first heard Patrick “Redbear.” while playing the all-too popular MySpace music friends six degrees of separation game. When I saw this guy Patrick wearing an Evil Dead t-shirt, listed as a friend of the band Real Live Tigers, I had to drop in and see what Redbear was all about. I clicked on his MySpace, where my ears were greeted with a song that instantly made my day. “My Ghost Love Jam” was impeccably described on YouTue as a “ragtime version of Antony and The Johnsons.” I of course added him as a friend and proclaimed my love for his songs almost immediately. Cut to my first house show experience playing live in Champaign in which I overheard Issac “Blanketarms” and PJ “Super Famicom” also proclaiming their love for the bear. It was clear by then that upon returning from my spring break tour, that I had to meet up with the red-haired mammal in person. When I did, I instantly could see why he had a following, and as a result of his personable personality and enthusiasm for the house show scene, managed to formulate a music community with friends that magically congealed in an affluent suburban area not too far from Brookfield Zoo. Since then, it’s safe to say that I’m more excited about seeing DIY bands perform in garages, basements, and living room rather than the Metro. Experiencing shows at both The Glass Haus and The Foster Home is exactly the type of communal bliss that can reaffirm your faith in the arts.
On record, a lot of the DIY musicians put out as much material as possible, which I encourage since I actively do the same. But can one achieve a track-for-track masterpiece? Many have come close, especially since Real Live Tigers put out the best record of last year. Redbear’s first record Love Songs For A Nihilist ended with a couple of improvised goofy ditties that merely tickled the funny bone instead of the heart, unlike just about every song that preceded it. Patrick has possibly grown tiresome of playing his “older hits” because he’s evolved beyond singing about Hootie and toast. I hope he doesn’t ever completely dismiss favorites such as “Fiber!” and “Brains!” But there’s a sense that he’s steering away from his roots and letting grass grow, reaching new heights in the process. His follow-up, Hollywood Taoism, is anything but a sophomore slump, which was expected even before listening to it. Hearing the songs live were always a treat, and unlike his debut, it isn’t just primarily a guy playing his nylon-stringed guitar. There are breathtaking arrangements here. It’s hard to decipher exactly what the intent is by including a few instrumental interludes here and there, other than a tip-of-the-hat to the ear-piercing noise of Einsturzende Neubauten as well as keeping in check with the Phil Elvrum influence. The sweeping harmonies and kitchen-sink-knock-on-wood rhythms also climb to the top of Mount Eerie, but never come across as derivative. The songs here are draped in buzzy fuzz, choir-like vocal layering, and the click-clack clatter of tribal beats. The results are otherworldly despite the lyrics touching base with the mysticism of nature and the human body’s uncertain place in an ever-changing universe. There are vivid descriptions of seasons changing and keeping an open heart behind a world that seems to be closing in on us.
Standouts include show staples that receive a massive makeover due to unexpectedly sublime instrumentation. There is no denying how infectious a lot of these songs are. “Walks Among Us, Life On A Map,” and “Don’t Haunt Me Yet,” are arguably his strongest tracks to date. The latter benefits from a glued-to-your-skull chorus refrain, “Now tell me something / how do I get to be like you?” That kind of simplicity was served well on the first album, but there’s also complexity and ideas behind a song like “Forest of Legs II,” which connects mind, body, and spirit in anything but a New Agey milieu. One of my favorite moments is featured in “Forest” with the line “Do you feel the tension between the trees and the moon?” Another gorgeous number is the achingly personal “Cook County,” which is one of the more tear-jerking moments as well as the most relatable.
The way the record ends is an acquired taste to the least. Does the title track add or subtract from the listening experience? For those who don’t require an easy “comedown” to put your mind at ease for closure or you enjoy the sound of rhinos fucking around with an effect processor, then you’ll be pleasantly surprised by the conclusion of the record. I’m more of a fan of traditional pop songs so I would’ve been doused with satisfaction had it ended with “Circular,” but this is a tiny, forgivable quibble. I simply love everything else about Hollywood Taoism. Nobody is making music like Redbear is right now. I had gotten to the point where I was unsure if originality was even attainable until I listened to this and the new Portishead album back to back on a 5-hour drive in stormy weather. Both are interchangeable for my favorite records of 2008 so far. Neither are chock-full of verse/chorus/verse aesthetics, but instead, choose to defy and challenge the listener to think and feel on such a visceral and cerebral level that you almost have to check and see if you’re not living inside a dream (or a nightmare) that you never want to wake up from and are dying to analyze as it occurs. Hollywood Taoism is the perfect encapsulation of the mind of myth of Redbear. I had sensed from my first live encounter that there was something special about this kind of songwriting, and this 2nd effort is a step up from the last and definitive proof that Patrick is the real deal. And we’re all the better for baring witness to Redbear’s vivacious imagination and freakishly unique perspective of this chaotic, yet invitingly beautiful vision of the world we reside inside.
