Pumice - "Pebbles"

Pumice - Brownbrownbrown (Soft Abuse 2007)

Pumice – Pebbles / Soft Abuse

It is incredibly frustrating when you sit down to research an artist in preparation for your own review and every bio or critique you come across lists related or similar artists that you have never listened to or even heard of before. For me personally, the thought always comes fluttering across my mind that I could fake a little knowledge and cop a comparison or two, but that damn conscious of mine always wins out demanding honesty and kicking me in the shins for even considering the thought. This is the trouble I have gotten in with the latest release by New Zealand outsider musician Stefan Neville, or has he’s known on dozens of cassette-only releases, Pumice. I am really digging Pebbles and it’s lo-fi psychedelic-pop cacophony, but reading the number of other reviews already strewn throughout the internet has made me realize that I know jackshit about the New Zealand underground… or really anything New Zealand. Is that where kiwis come from? Sigh. My knowledge of the South Pacific island is laughable, and though I am familiar with the names circling Neville’s sound like Alastair Galbraith, Tall Dwarves, The Clean, The Enemy and Flying Nun, I can’t say with a clear conscious that I have spent much time actually listening to them. But this is also the exact reason I am so excited to write about Pebbles, because I find the feedbacking outsider avant-pop to be incredibly hypnotizing and am looking forward to exploring the scene that influenced Neville in this direction.

Since the early 90s, Stefan Neville has gained a cult following thanks to his lengthy discography of self-released cassettes, 7 inches and CD-R’s with the majority of them being released under the Pumice moniker and through his own label, Stabbies, etc. A one man band, Neville explores a sound lying somewhere between Fahey, Jandek and Moondog, setting up an archaic organ immediately in front of his abbreviated drum-set and running his electric guitar along with everything else through distraught, yelping amplifiers. Though, as I mentioned before, I can’t speak for his entire discography, the Pumice sound appears to be an oddly enchanting mix of outsider folk and near-droning avant-garde rock with excursions into rollicking rockabilly, fragile singer/songwriter, and experimental psyche-pop explorations.

I honestly almost want to approach this album one song at a time, because Neville attempts a number of styles with each individual track, though he always sounds distinctly himself. Album opener, “Eyebath,” is a rollicking, jaunty electric guitar workout that is ridiculously catchy though bathed in feedback and buried in dynamic-less quarter-inch tape mid-frequencies. It is a dead giveaway to why Neville was picked to be featured on the forthcoming compilation of Fahey-inspired New Zealand artists as he transcribes the innovative folk-jazz into new realms of noisy avant-rock. The cacophony is set aside for the next few tracks though as “Bold/Old” introduces the more intimate Pumice sound and is a crawling, endearing piece of soft-spoken singer/songwriter vocals, sparsely feedbacking guitar noodles and acoustic piano flourishes. I find “Brownbrownbrown” especially interesting with its stuttering arrangement and absolutely hypnotizing melody. It proves Neville has the ability to be an effective pop songwriter, but he thankfully chooses to express such intimacies in experimental settings. Tracks like “Greenock” and “Spike/Spear” continue that method but in an increasingly droning setting and calling to mind similar acts like Sun City Girls or Flossin. The hypnotizing melody is there and effective, but it gets buried and teased in between over-modulated organs, minor drum freakouts and swirling feedback. If you have ever wondered what Jandek sounded like if would ever stumble across a hook, Pebbles wouldn’t be too far off.

Mastered by Yellow Swans member Pete Swanson and released by the reliable psyche-folk label Soft Abuse, Pebbles is one of those albums that initially sounds like insular bedroom experimentation but with each successive listen reveals more and more intriguing and catchy psyche-pop nuggets. Though maybe a little tough to approach for those used to more traditional production, Pebbles is a pretty accessible album and Neville’s songwriting absolutely sounds like that of a musician with a discography pages long. I definitely recommend this to anyone already into the lo-fi psyche scene or is up to the challenge of widening their pop tastes. As for me, I have a few decades of New Zealand underground music to explore, because if spurred an artist like Pumice, I am definitely interested.