Grandaddy
Blu Wav
DANGERBIRD
No one can turn a bummer into a fun time quite like Grandaddy. Modesto, California’s endearing little-band-that-could has made a career out of playfully synthesizing crippling 21st-century alienation into spoonfuls of sugar. Jason Lytle, Jim Fairchild, and company are inadvertent authorities on the particular strain of disillusionment that’s on the rise as technology becomes more powerful, ubiquitous, and unbridled—after all, the band’s hometown lies only 90 miles east of the belly of the beast: Silicon Valley.
Grandaddy have come to the rescue many times over the years, armed with ticklish ditties that challenge their listeners not to smile. Much like a grandparent, actually, Grandaddy have always given us a warm, reassuring pat on the back as we try to adapt to—or at least tolerate—our alarmingly cold, cruel world. Their deliriously demented early material only grew stronger with each ensuing release, from 2000’s The Sophtware Slump onward. Yet six years later, Grandaddy crashed headlong into an impenetrable road block that seemed to mark the end of the road: Income generated by their recording and touring pursuits wasn’t enough to pay the bills. After the band re-formed in 2012, Grandaddy demonstrated they’d gotten their mojo back with 2017’s Last Place.
Alas, the band suffered another setback two months later—and this one paled in comparison to financial struggles: Founding member Kevin Michael Garcia, who joined Grandaddy as a teenager, died two months after Last Place’s release. Garcia’s crushing departure affected Grandaddy so deeply that they canceled all their planned live performances shortly afterward. Once again, it became unclear whether the quartet were done for good this time—and, if they weren’t, whether they’d ever recover from their devastating loss. As evidenced by their craftsmanship on yet another gem, Blu Wav, Grandaddy aren’t done yet—even if they’re more solemn than they used to be. Instead of retreading the same paths that led them to their splashier, more joyful songs of yore, their work is not yet done.
For this outing, Lytle takes a somewhat surprising turn toward country music, loading up the album with ample pedal steel and synthesizers while also making room for bluegrass waltzes, of all things. Blu Wav isn’t such a radical departure that it could be considered a reinvention of the band. For one thing, the album is also laced with their hallmark lo-fi and psych sounds. But Grandaddy’s ambitious venturing into previously uncharted waters shows there’s plenty of life yet in these peerless musicians. It almost feels like, after tragedy left the band amiss, it was all they could do to see where they could still find solace, if not hope. Granddaddy are, understandably, far more serious this time around. Yet they still find rays of sunshine and, like a tilted mirror, redirect them to shine on an audience that needs comfort of its own during these oh-so-fearful times.
“I don’t ever want to leave, because this life is not a dream,” Lytle coos on “Cabin in My Mind.” Please don’t, Grandaddy. We still need you, and as you demonstrate with this softly breathtaking album, your time is far from over yet.
