Review: Banana Peel Slips on Itself by David E. Williams

Earlier today I was reading a Graham Greene novel and came across this exchange between two fictional high level administrators of a British intelligence office as they lunch together at club near the office:

“I like the food at Travellers just as much,” Hargreaves said.

“Ah, but you are forgetting our steak-and-kidney pudding. I know you won't like my saying so, but I prefer it to your wife's pie. Pastry holds the gravy at a distance. Pudding absorbs the gravy. Pudding, you might say, cooperates.”

Upon reading this sentiment, I thought of the songwriter David E. Williams because it is the sort of thing he might say were you to have lunch with him at one of the many gastropubs in the Philadelphia neighborhood of Fishtown where he resides. Although, to be honest I don't know of any such establishments that serve kidney pie or pudding and I couldn't say whether Mr. Williams is a pudding man or a pie man. The point is that he is a contemplative man who practices the type of mindfulness that would lead one to make such an observation. This becomes clear to when you pay attention to the lyrics of his songs, quite a few of which happen to include food descriptions or metaphors involving food.

Perhaps the quote above would not have immediately led me to think of Fishtown's dark balladeer if he weren't on my mind today as I prepared to write this review. As I mentioned in my piece on Thomas Nola's Pacific Palisades, I discovered that particular album after having just pre-ordered the upcoming David E. Williams record, which is due for release on June 21st. Since I said I would likely review it, I've been given a preview copy of all the completed songs in digital format. The title is Banana Peel Slips on Itself and it will be issued on CD by Old Europa Cafe, an Italian label specializing in various types of experimental music. You can currently listen to three of the tracks at his Bandcamp site, where you can also pre-order the CD or the digital version.

Cover for Banana Peel Slips on Itself

Although David E. Williams has certainly dabbled in the experimental, I would not classify most of music in that way, but it is always undoubtedly...different. He is a troubadour of tragedy, but in a funny way. This is especially true of the small tragedies, life's little nuisances that plague our every day existence like foot fungus or sunburn. He takes a subject that most might find absurd to even think about at all and presents it with a sinister twist. Nearly all of his songs include a blend of sorrow and a kind of humor that, while morbid, is more commiserating than cruel.

His musical style is somehow both a little too conventional and incredibly strange to the degree where some listeners might be put off. In recent years, he has recorded his songs from his home and performs most of the parts on his keyboard with an occasional guest musician contributing to a track. These are not merely “keyboard songs” though, but complex creations with a variety of different effects and layers of sound. The most notable aspect of his music is typically his vocals, which can range from softly lilting to violently growling with an ever-present dramatic gravitas utilized to demonstrate the character of the narrator.

This new album, Banana Peel Slips on Itself, fits all the descriptions I've written above. I think it to be top-form David E. Williams, on par with some of my favorite work by him. Probably my favorite song is called “Margaret Sanger Lives in Heaven” about the founder of Planned Parenthood, in which she goes to hell but then through prayerful intervention by persons unidentified she is able to be redeemed by fighting her way into limbo where “the souls of every boy and girl whose ever been aborted” now reside and she takes them with her into heaven. It's an intense song and lyrics are amazing. I would quote them entirely here but it doesn't seem appropriate in an album review. I'll just give you the first stanza:

Margaret Sanger died while dreaming things we take for granted:

her bold abortuaries in every corner of the planet.

Murder factories for modest means and even smaller

for children of three inches with no need for need for growing taller.

For as unpleasant as this is, it is a song about cosmic redemption; about looking straight into the darkness of ourselves and the world we live in and believing that there must some path back to God, “however you define him” to paraphrase the people at Alcoholic Anonymous. Undoubtedly, people who believe in Heaven and Hell will question the theological soundness of the scenario presented but that is kind of missing the point.

From strictly a musical perspective I think the song “Chiropractor Arrives by Helicopter” offers the most listening pleasure. It's on the longer side of all the songs, a little over five minutes, and unfolds a slow meditative audio experience with synthesized rhythms and little synthetic bird-like chirps. The lyrics are simple and short. At first I didn't understand them until I searched the internet for “chiropractor helicopter crash” and found a news story about a chiropractor in Florida who died when a helicopter he was riding in crashed into a mobile home, so I assume this must be the basis of the song. It was “ripped from the headlines” as they say.

(UPDATE: I've learned that "Chiropractor Arrives by Helicopter" is not inspired by that news story I've cited. It's just an odd coincide.)

Actually, the ambitious listener may be inclined to consult the internet to understand lyrics from other songs on the album. One such example is “Marquis de Sade was a Sadist”, which name-drops twelve different seemingly unconnected historical figures. I don't think there is actually a connection between all of them, but even understanding the way they are described might require some research for the uninformed. For instance:

And Georges Bataille

boiled eggs with his eye

He enjoyed them most

on thanatoast.

I'm not sure I get this.

You might remember me mentioning foot fungus earlier. Well, that gets brought up in the first song on the album called “Song About Being a Foot”. This is a perfect example of the contemplative mindfulness I mentioned that brings about a different way of looking at things. Here's how the foot introduces itself:

I am a foot.

Meet me at the end of your leg.

Meet me where your soul meets the floor

stompin' on a hard-boiled egg.

And what about food references? Well the best example on Banana Peels is called “The Clambake at the End of the World.” This song is apparently about environmental catastrophe and is sung with the exactly the opposite of a gusto, a helpless malaise about how there is simply nothing to be done to avert the pending disaster.

All of the songs that I've mentioned so far are pretty catchy to me, but there are a few that just don't do it for me musically. Even among these, there are amusing things to be found. “Sun Cracks Through Black Cotton” clocks in at just one minute and fourteen seconds long. It's just really odd, but it has a food metaphor. There is a particularly discordant cover of the old song “One Meatball” with guest vocals by Jerome Deppe, a frequently collaborator with David E. Williams. Go listen to a more traditional version and then listen to this one. Personally, I like the older version better, but it's another food song so...

Not every song needs to be beautiful to be interesting, and “I Dreamed I Caught a Cold” is a good example. The lyrics consist of just three couplets. First they are sung through one time in order, but then the couplets begin to overlap each other. While listening I couldn't help but feel that this felt exactly like dreams I have had where I seem to be trapped in some kind of loop that I keep living over and over. This is more like song-designing than song-writing. It may not appeal to most people but it is not without merit. Another song's design I liked was “Pets Will Eat Their Owners” which is seemingly over when the music suddenly explodes in an exuberant melodic breakdown that lasts another minute.

I'm not going to go into all fourteen songs on the album, but I think I've mentioned all my favorites and my least favorites, which are just okay. The songs falling in between my arbitrary standards of mentionability are good and I like them. I do want to point out one more favorite called “Lou Gehrig” with lyrics that were excerpted and re-arranged from the great baseball player's farewell speech. There is something special about the song because it picks out these quirky little moments from the speech and then ends with some of the most life-affirming words ever heard from a dying man in American history. Both the piano playing and the vocals are incredibly uplifting.

That's all fine and good, but my quibble is, why not a song about someone from the Philadelphia Phillies? All we ever hear about is the damn Yankees! You know, I once saw a baseball game in Philadelphia where David E. Williams drove a golf cart for the team mascot, the Philly Phanatic, while said mascot shot hot dogs into the crowd from a specially designed gun for shooting hot dogs. Who does that sort of thing? After you listen to Banana Peel Slips on Itself, I expect you'll know what kind of person does that sort of thing. A guy like David E. Williams.

Related: See my 2013 interview with David E. Williams for a discussion on his personal motivations for his songwriting among other things.

A Review of Pacific Palisades by Thomas Nola and The Cedar Groves

Earlier this week I received a notification from Bandcamp that the new David E. Williams album is now available for pre-order, so I went to Mr. Williams' Bandcamp site, listened to the three songs that have been released from the album and made my pre-order. While I was logged in, I also looked up some of the other artists that I follow and "low and behold" I saw that Thomas Nola had released yet another album in September 2019. I was late to the game.

The album is entitled Thomas Nola & The Cedar Groves- Pacific Palisades. The thing about Thomas Nola is that he changes his backing band pretty often. I already had something like 13 albums or more by Thomas Nola and a number of compilation albums on which he appears. He has previously released albums that are just by Thomas Nola, and albums by Thomas Nola et Son Orchestra, and albums by Thomas Nola and the Black Hole. This is the first with The Cedar Groves as a backing band.

So who is Thomas Nola? Well, I've been a fan for years ever since I saw him perform live in a show that included the above-mentioned David E. Williams in the line-up. I suppose Williams was my neighbor in a way. He lived in Fishtown at the time and operated a small bookstore there. I lived in a small sliver of land called East Kensington about five blocks away. You can read a 2013 interview I had with Williams.

Anyway...that bookstore also had an art gallery and there were occasional events like music shows, and somehow Williams became acquainted with Thomas Nola and released an album on Nola's label called Disque de Lapin. So because of this association, Thomas would come down and play in Philadelphia. That is how I first saw him, in a small book store. I learned that in addition to running his own record label he is also and independent filmmaker. I believe that he was initially based out of Boston, although I can't say for certain.

After seeing him at Germ Books, I saw him many times and in many locations. He looks like Nigel Terry from Excalibur without the goatee, but most times he performed in formal attire, most memorably a brown pin-striped suit. For me, the best shows I ever saw him play were when I went outside of Philadelphia, my favorite being in Manhattan at a tiki bar called Otto's Shrunken Head, and second when I went up to Brattleboro, Vermont for the ten year celebration festival of Disque de Lapin, where many artists played in some old theater Nola had rented for the day.

Nigel Terry

Despite my frequent contact with Mr. Nola, I can't say we are friends. I always remained in orbiter fan status and at some point I became persona non grata with him, which I discovered when I noticed that our Facebook friendship was terminated. I don't know for certain why, but I suspect that it was due to some political disagreements we had on Facebook. I try to avoid that sort of thing but occasionally it gets the better of me.

Let's talk about Pacific Palisades! I think it is Thomas Nola's greatest album to date. It is amazingly cohesive and creative. It induces a trance-like state of mind and is incredibly cohesive throughout in terms of audio fidelity, yet each song is unique. In this day and age when the entire concept of a musical album has gone by the wayside, when most artists simply issue one song at a time, and most people simply listen to their favorite songs and nothing more, Nola has constructed an experience that needs to be listened to entirely, and it's a joyful experience!

Pacific Palisades album cover

Pacific Palisades opens with a brief instrumental prelude entitled "Pacific Coast Theme." It harkens back to old surf rock days. This ends and immediately we are introduced to a different more sophisticated sound in a song called "Back to the Sky" which elevates the listeners mood but isn't exactly high-energy music. It's more of a mindfulness meditation. You are here. You are observing your environment. You are rising above the thoughts and emotions that hold you back from pursuing your full potential. You are going back to the sky.

"Back to the Sky" sets the mood for the coming songs. As I said before, they are all a little different, creatively, but they stay in this steady flow that has you nodding along. I'm not really an expert on audio mechanics, but each song utilizes this echo-type reverb effect, which is used very well. I've heard other cases where it was used badly but this isn't one of them.

One of the stand-out songs is "The Sun Reaches Out" which is about how our existence sort of blends together with all of reality. Take for instance, this lyric:

"You saw yourself in the face of the sun, you never knew you were a phase of the sun."

The song ends with the sounds of a child, reminiscent of Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely" (but far less cringe) and I can't help but think that it is the sound of Thomas' own son, and that he is sort of interchangeably using the homonyms "sun" and "son" to discuss how life is a continuum in which we transfer what we can to the next generation and then we are lost and gone to history, or memory, or legacy, or what? Like waves lapping upon a beach.

Another song I want to highlight is "Chasing a Feeling Down" about deconstructing one's self to the essential components of one's identity. Nola literally and poetically identifies every piece of our identity in this song and then seems to ask the question, are we any of these things or are we a feeling that transcends all of them? I have to say, this is how I personally think every time I visit the ocean and observe the tide going in and out, and this is why I think the title of the album is so astute.

There is another instrumental track on the album called "Undertow," which continues with this steady beautiful theme. It's slow and mostly monotonous, with little chimes of life. It is not painful to listen to, like other monotonous music I've come across. I always appreciate a random instrumental track that is well-executed.

The final song, "Free Seals of Big Sur" begins with a combination of surf rock guitar and tribalistic drumming that has been with us for ages, probably the first type of music ever written. "Where is your dream?" asks the lyrics. "We've been here all along." is the answer. And this completes this work of genius that extrapolates from the lived experience a mood and tempo symbolic of what really matters and gives us purpose in life. I have not focused much on the poetry of Thomas Nola, but the guy can definitely write a verse.

If you've never heard of Thomas Nola, this is the place to start. You can listen to the album online here: https://lapin.bandcamp.com/album/pacific-palisades, but why not buy it and download it onto all of your devices? He is only charging five dollars!!! That's like the same price as a double mocha chocolate latte at Starbucks, but you can own these songs forever. It's a refreshing and energizing drink you can keep going back to instead of sucking up and exstruding in a 24 hour period. I'd say it's the best album of 2019.

Sorry. I'm not a sales rep for Mr. Nola. We're not even on speaking terms! I will say that because I'm a weirdo, I like his earlier albums as well, but not all of them are as accessible as this one. I once played my vinyl version of the "The Rose-Tinted Monocle" for some friends and their faces twisted as they said, "Ewwww, it's like a really off-key imitation of Nick Cave!" But I swear to you. This time it's different. Pacific Palisades is different and you can listen to it before you buy it. But you should buy it if you like it. He's a hard-working and prolific artist and he deserves your support.


(Oh, and I plan to review that new David E. Williams album that I pre-ordered when it comes out in June. Probably the best album of 2020...we'll see!)