by Fritz Ortman (@fritzortman)
On Shadow Talk, Cafe Racer leap into a new era. On their 2018 debut Famous Dust, the Chicago natives proved themselves capable and well-versed proponents of psych and space rock. On their new record, the band has pushed their penchant for the psychedelic forward into tighter playing, vast song structures, and blossoming arrangements. Where Famous Dust opened up into crescendos of warm reverberating guitars, Shadow Talk seems to unfurl a universe of sound with each climax. Songs drive forward, propelled by the tight rhythm section of Rob McWilliams’ bass and Cafe Racer newcomer Elise Poirier’s drums.
The record begins on a wave of feedback and propels into a groove peppered with the interlaced guitars of Michael Santana and Adam Schubert. The harmonious interplay at the start of the song is offset by the partnership of a howling lead and a tremolo’d out electric guitar. The song ends on a wave of feedback, albeit a more aggressive one. The single “Zenith” picks up the pace with a post punk styled beat punctuated by single plucked notes and spiraling riffs on guitar, and Andrew Harper’s effervescent synthesizers at the end of the song envelop and eat your headphones. The next song “Faces” (also a single) has a mysterious bent, and showcases Harper’s keyboards for the first time on the record as a lead instrument. The vocals are shrouded in tremolo, and the intermittent mambo beat from Poirier brings depth and novelty to the song. “Russian Blue,” the final single from the record, begins with the lockstep of drum and bass. While the record was recorded long before the Coronavirus pandemic, the lyric “too much time on my hands, want to go out there” couldn’t feel more apt to our current day-to-day. The song ends with Harper playing a distant, aquatic arrangement of the chorus on a Fender Rhodes, an epilogue which reframes the motifs of the song in a lonely light.
“Exile” is the centerpiece of the album. The bent guitars that start the song create a sense of intrigue. After the vocals give a brief introduction, the song grows into an expansive jam which showcases each member of the band, building on motifs until the song descends into noise. The result of the band’s noise experiment, spearheaded by Harper’s synthesizers, sounds like an outtake of ambient street noise for Vangelis’ soundtrack for Blade Runner. “Seminal Art” is another high point on the record. While Cafe Racer have a tendency to use the voice as an instrument, often obscuring lyrics behind a wall of effects, “Seminal Art” ventures into more visceral vocals, ones that pine and lust. The instrumentals are not left in the dust, and the back half of the song features one of the most exhilarating crescendos of the album. “Breathing” offers a nice cooldown from the last few tracks, and the guitars are slightly more stripped down with McWilliams’ distorted bass taking up more space. The song builds, adding bent, alien guitars before exploding ever so briefly into a tantalizing sax solo performed by Spencer Ouellette. “Out the Window'' plays with a stilted time signature, bringing urgency to the track which is enhanced by the vocals which range from breathy to aggressive. The guitar solo is savage, noisily demolishing everything in its path. The titular song is gargantuan, and the repeating chord progression brings a familiar and dignified sense to the song. Its ten minute runtime is braggadocios, and asserts the band’s power and fortitude.
Cafe Racer’s Shadow Talk is an essential listen for psych fans, and the band has managed to put a distinct stamp on a genre that can so often feel like pastiche. The band has no weak spots, and for us musicians who are currently unable to meet with our collaborators, the live chemistry of Shadow Talk is enviable. When venues reopen, (or unfortunately for some remain permanently closed) I will be sure to catch the next Cafe Racer show in New York.