Here We Go Magic: from Luke Temple's bedroom to yours

Written for the Deli magazine, originally appearing here and in our 19th issue which is currently floating about venues, music stores & coffee shops all over New York City. The following quotes were captured a few months ago when I got a chance to speak to Temple and his band in the basement of Southpaw before their album release show.

• For fans of kraut rock, world and tribal music, Whitman & Thoreau, Jackson Pollack

Not too long ago and not too far away (Manchester, Massachusetts, more precisely) a high school student sits in a classroom ignoring another math lecture. With his left hand, he holds one end of a ruler firmly on the edge of his desk, and with his right, he hits the ruler so it vibrates and makes a sound. The closer to the desk that he hits the ruler, the quicker the frequency and higher pitched the sound. We've all done this, right? Except, while the rest of us may only have rewarded ourselves with a D+ in math and later been whacked with our ruler-turned-instrument, Luke Temple tapped into the basics of stand-up, slap-style bass and the art of how music is made. His fascination with the fundamentals of sound and rhythm has provided him the building blocks to create the primeval, ethereal progressions of "Here We Go Magic:" his new moniker and self-titled album.

With one Shure microphone set up in the corner of his room hooked up to a four-track cassette recorder, Temple wrote, improvised, and mixed all that is his new album, Here We Go Magic. "There wasn't really even a process for this record. It was really haphazard," Temple said, referring to the unstructured creation of sounds and rhythms that were eventually pieced together as a record. It all started in that room as an "archiving of ideas." He'd have an idea for a riff or a melody, and he'd lay that down. Then he would play the track back and "respond" or improvise to it with what would end up being another layer of the track. Like a baker or a chemist. A few tracks were written beforehand (like "Fangela," "Tunnelvision," and "Everything's Big") but Temple kept the structure very loose when it came to recording them. He mentioned that when making the record he had been listening to Ethiopic blues with odd ¾ waltz-like rhythms and time changes in unexpected places. Those rhythms must have felt natural to the makers of Ethiopic blues—the rhythms seem to come from a somewhat subconscious place. Here We Go Magic was created in a similar frame of mind. The recurrent loose, reciprocal approach to harmonics and rhythm in "Here We Go Magic" comes full circle when realizing some of Temple's influences.

Although his family isn't necessarily musical, per se, painting, dance, and writing are all sown from family seeds. Creation and expression is more a means of living than it is a hobby or an afterthought. From a light obsession with jazz fusion from the likes of Chick Corea and the most technically complicated music he could get his hands on during his ruler-slapping high school days to transcendent kraut rock like that of Popol Vuh to the experimental music of Robert Wyatt, Temple brings an unconventional mixed-bag of sounds and harmonies to the table as well.

An inescapable musical comparison (and one that seems to make Temple a little twitchy) is that of Paul Simon—specifically Graceland-era Paul Simon. "I always get the Paul Simon thing," Temple said, "but I've never really been a huge Paul Simon fan. I think it's just the timbre of my voice." The likeness, though, undoubtedly comes not only from similarity in vocals but in Temple's use of African folk-inspired beats. There are even some Tim Buckley-esque Brit folk elements present in the final track, "Everything's Big." The vocal likeness to Paul Simon is pure coincidence on Temple's part considering that Temple has never thought of himself as a "singer" or "singer-songwriter." He hasn't tried to fit into the persona of a musician, whatever that might be, and his singing didn't come about until his last year of art school in Boston. "I started singing to get a fuller, more complete sound with the music I was making," he said. Singing was just another aspect to composing a song as Temple came to see it, and he did so not because he felt the urge to sing, but to give himself more creative control and access to another layer of the mix. Along with the Paul Simon nod, quotes like "Luke Temple has one of the most beautiful voices in pop music" from Sufjan Stevens and "[Temple's] voice alone is so damn good -- one of the prettiest voices in all of indie rock, hands down" from Ben Gibbard must be flattering but also rather amusing to Temple, even though the reference and quotes are credible and grounded.

With the fusion, African blues, kraut rock and all else that has brought Temple to here and now as a precursor to "Here We Go Magic," the album itself (so art goes) beats its own new path with flurries of evidence from musical ancestors—and those that came before, and before, and before. With "Here We Go Magic," Temple taps into music and rhythms of instinctual, humanistic origins.

Much of the album is electronic (analog synths), but raw. Electronic riffs correspond to each other in the same way that tribal folk music is heard in a progressive, natural, almost hedonistic fashion—different road, same destination. This applies, primarily, to the beginning and end of the album on tracks like "Only Pieces," "Fangela," "Tunnelvision," and "Everything's Big." The middle of the album ("Ghost List," "Babyohbabyijustcantstanditanymore," and "Nat's Alien," especially) touts more similarities to 70s kraut rock, Popol Vuh, and might fit well into a Sontag-approved piece of experimental cinema. Without suggesting any drug use was partaken in the making of this album, this is the stuff that acid trips are made of. The experience of listening is enriching and enjoyable, and by the end of it, the memory of the music itself dissipates and only the images and emotions evoked remain. One more spin, though, and whistles and thigh slapping to "Fangela" will assuredly ensue.

How does the "Here We Go Magic" on disc translate to a stage performance? Pretty darned well. Temple has assembled a five-piece band (including himself) with Peter Hale, Mike Bloch, AJ Lambert, and Kristina Lieberson. On stage they recreate the complex recording that Temple made in his bedroom. "We try to stay as true to what Luke created as possible when we play—to give the material the respect it deserves," said Here We Go Magic's drummer. And that's precisely what they do. The band embodies Temple's creation and brings it to life. Eureka—it's alive!

To witness the, um, erection, check out tourdates on Here We Go Magic's website and while you're making good use of them internets, might as well listen to a few tracks on the band's Myspace page.