Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 - “Socket”

Hey, it was the 90s. If you didn’t have an arty sense of humor about your college-radio-beloved band, what good were you? What else could explain the unwieldy moniker this San Francisco quintet bestowed upon themselves? Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 were at their most active and successful from ‘91-‘94, releasing a few full-lengths on venerable indie label Matador, touring Europe and the US, and generally doing the underground rock thing of the day. They’ve basically been on hiatus since ‘96, but haven’t technically broken up or ruled out further records and tours. At this point, though, it seems pretty safe to call them an unremembered gem from a bygone era. I’ve personally only discovered their music very recently through the tumblog So Likewise (via yvynyl), a great resource for obscure and overlooked stuff like this. [*The internet is amazing, isn’t it? Even if I hadn’t been but a tender 9 years old when this song came out, I’d still probably never have had the chance to hear about TFUL282 or find a store where I could buy their CDs. Remember buying CDs at stores?]

Anyway, “Socket” is the second track from TFUL282’s fifth album, Strangers From the Universe and a wonderfully off-kilter piece of art rock. It’s clear the band were fervent devotees of the early Velvet Underground records. You can hear the echoes of Moe Tucker stomp in “Socket”s marchy ostintatos as well as some Reed/Cale grime on the guitars (not to mention the way some parts take a few repetitions before they gel). The opening bit is built on a noodling lead, slightly de-tuned strums, and a martial drum roll. It’s not the friendliest way to begin a song, but 30 seconds in “Socket” suddenly snaps into a cooly charming groove. The guitar riff sounds something like Modest Mouse covering “Sister Ray,” while shaker and hand claps add to the percussive strut and Hugh Swarts delivers a postmodern story-verse. “When I was young I caught a jolt from a wall socket,” he murmurs, “I saw white light and I sang a song with the angels / They took me aside and told me it wasn’t my time yet / I awoke in a room hooked up to tubes and machines.” It’s a familiar tale of near-death experience, but it doesn’t get completed until TFUL282 take a few more left turns.

Following Swarts’ verse, the band drops into a half-time psych-out replete with even more bent strings and extra percussive texture (if you are a drummer, buy a woodblock ASAP; it makes everything better). Of course, lest “Socket” run away with itself, TFUL282 follow that passage with a punky, staccato breakdown that for some reason makes me think of Sonic Youth—maybe it’s the odd time signature?—before replaying the opening jam and segueing back into that sweet groove. Don’t worry if it doesn’t make sense written out. There’s a meandering logic to the way these abrupt shifts are stitched together in real time, not as movements of some kind of prog opus, but as methods of exploring the bands’ outer limits.

“The doctors claim there’s nothing wrong with me,” continues Swarts, “But I can’t taste or smell and I can hardly see / and sleep is my worst enemy.” Turns out coming back from the brink of the afterlife dulls everything in normal life. The second verse picks up on the shade of dehumanization hinted at in the first (when he wakes up in the hospital), robbing Swarts of his ability to experience the world and find any kind of peace. I said “Socket” had postmodern lyrics a minute ago not only because they’re truncated, declarative, and sad, but because they seem to be describing a resignation to a dull kind of pointlessness in the wake of the glimpse into Valhalla. Either that or they’re just telling a crazy story. Bands do that sometimes, too.