Nine Mile Records – Memphis Flyer

Whether you knew it or not, Luke White has probably been a fixture in some of your favorite Memphis bands. He’s played integral roles in Snowglobe, The Pirates, Spiral Stairs (Pavement’s Scott Kannberg), Colour Revolt, James and the Ultrasounds, Clay Otis, Jeffery James and the Haul, The Coach and Four, Sons of Mudboy, Harlan T. Bobo and Rob Junklas, among others.

Now, as William Luke White, he’s making his debut as a band leader and solo artist. But going solo doesn’t have to mean going it alone. He’s assembled a few of the city’s best rock and roll players to create an EP of rare energy and hope.

It’s especially moving for friends and colleagues of Luke, as he has tried to come to grips with some setbacks in physical health. Returning home from a West Coast tour supporting Spiral Stairs’ We Wanna Be Hyp-No-Tized in June 2019, Luke had a massive seizure in his apartment. He woke up four days later to find out that he had a cancerous brain tumor that needed to be removed. The successful surgery took place August 13th at LeBonheur.

In truth, that final surgery was the culmination a long process of recovery and healing. Over recent months, White has been seen at musical events (before quarantine), or on social media, at times in recording studios. As it turns out, he was putting the finishing touches on material that he had started working on before his seizure.

As he notes in a statement: “I decided to put out these songs I had recorded a while back that were basically finished and started talking to Tim Regan about releasing them on his Nine Mile Records label. I sent him the tunes I had and work got underway. I just want these songs to see the light of day and want to reclaim the date from my accident. Tim Regan and Tommy Kha, photography and artwork, have been with me since my seizure and it has been an amazing collaboration that is exactly what I needed.”

The result is a shot in the arm of these doldrum-plagued times. All notions of ill health or angst are swept away with the opening bass riff of “(Tell Me) Where Ya From From,” full of four-on-the-floor pounding drums, Jim Spake’s skronking baritone sax, and chiming background vocals courtesy Jana Misener and Krista Wroten. Eventually, some Steve Cropper-esque guitar fills show up as well. It’s a grand old time and a brilliant shot across the bow for White’s return.

The first single, “Glory Line,” spotlighted in visual artist Tommy Kha’s music video that was released today, is more contemplative, evoking shades of power pop, Americana, and even a touch of wistful Joni Mitchell, as he sings “I’m flying 20,000 miles an hour and without getting closer/My heart is radiating, I just hope you can feel it.”

William Luke White’s Triumphant Return to Music

Then it’s once more onto the dance floor with the perfect upbeat power pop of “Love In a Cage,” which actually makes such a prospect sound fun. If the Smiths cut an album at Stax, ca. 1986, this might have been the result.

And then White gets contemplative again with “My Worst,” but it’s a driving contemplation and catchy as hell. Throughout, White’s voice is in fine form, by measures both vulnerable and roaring, as needed, and sits perfectly in the shimmering guitar jangle and big beats, as background vocals sing the title words in what could be a Big Star sample.

But it’s not a sample, and all the more glorious for being so alive. As is William Luke White. And for that we are thankful.

William Luke White’s eponymous debut EP is available Friday, October 2, from Nine Mile Records.

Every once in a while, a perfect storm gathers over a band’s rehearsals and recording sessions, and an album emerges that transcends any one person’s vision. Certain elements click, and a minor masterpiece is born, which, in its cohesiveness and consistency of mood and craftsmanship, hangs together as only the best novels or films do.

A good number of these albums slip through the cracks of history. But recently, a handful of them are getting a second look, thanks to the efforts of Small Batch Records. Seattle-based Aaron Rehling started the label on a strong Memphis note in December 2018 with the release of Jeff Hulett’s LP Around These Parts. The next year, Rehling partnered with Memphis/Austin music stalwart Tim Regan to make Small Batch a subsidiary of Regan’s Austin-based label, Nine Mile Records.

Today, Small Batch releases The Essential Records Collection Volume 1 on Spotify. This collects albums that are, in the label’s words, “truly essential listens. Albums that are absolutely ‘Classic’ in our minds,” all of which, they note, “through some great cosmic mix up, are not in print and/or not available for streaming.”

Two of these, Andy Grooms’ Grateful To Burn (2004) and The Glass’ Concorde (2003), were made in Memphis by Memphians. The other two, Dixie Dirt’s Springtime Is For The Hopeless And Other Ideas (2002) and Dave Quanbury’s In The Meantime Let’s Attend To Our Pleasures (2014), have their provenance in Knoxville and Austin, respectively.

Most Memphians who were around in the early aughts will agree that Grooms’ album is a stone classic. Produced by Kevin Cubbins, Grooms’ former bandmate in the Pawtuckets, the record manages to have a clear sonic identity even as it remains wholly unpredictable.

Part of that is due to the band, starting with the drumming of John Argroves, who somehow manages to be both rock-solid and fluid. Like magma? Most importantly, Argroves leaves space for the other players (Grooms on keys, Jonathan Wires on bass and Clint Wagner on guitar, plus assorted guest players) to create their harmonic textures.

And for the most part, the sound boils down to these players on traditional instruments. While most of the world was going nuts for the bells and whistles of sampled sounds in their mixes of the era, Cubbins wisely lets the players shine, unplugged. Having said that, there are some delectable sonic touches throughout. Spacey guitar graces the blend of acoustic guitar, piano, bass, glockenspiel and thundering drums on the opener, “One Billion Anonymous Poets,” which also ends with subtle, churning synth growl. In a less ethereal way, the warble of tremolo guitar gives the acoustic stomp of “Mary Or Mephisto” some teeth.

Many more sonic flourishes follow, with touches of strings and horns grounding the sound in the traditional territory once mapped out by the Band, yet taking it even further — as with a weird free jazz breakdown in “Constant Reminder” that yields to a poignant jazz trumpet solo. The common factor in nearly all the tunes is Wagner’s sensitive nylon-string guitar, which always seems perched on the listener’s ear.

All in all, this minor masterpiece is a bit of bummer, chronicling the dissolution of Grooms’ marriage, but remains cathartic for all that. And while Grooms is now based in Missouri, turning up in Memphis only occasionally, this record remains as a testament to the brilliant musicianship that has always graced this city.

Also on deck from the Memphis league is The Glass. Argroves’ magic is on display here as well, joined this time by Tommy Pappas on bass, Justin Minus on guitar, and the band’s visionary, Brad Bailey, on vocals and guitar. The overall effect is a more conventional two-guitars/bass/drums sound, but no less finely wrought than Grooms’ album. Here, the greater electric heft is put in the service of even slower jams swirling with chiming ostinatos. A tasteful heaviness-that-swings is brought by Argroves, giving the introspective vibe some forward momentum.

In all, two albums from a bygone era entirely worth celebrating. Revisit them and marvel once again to the power and sensitivity of Memphis players whenever they gather together in a room and make the air move.