by Morgan Troper (@mo_troper)
For years, Aaron Liu sang and played guitar in Two Moons, one of the greatest Portland rock bands of the past decade. That band’s sole physical release—the 2017 cassette EP, Strings—sounded like a freshly disinterred Elephant 6 demo that combined the languor of early Sparklehorse with Teenage Fanclub’s swaggering, full throttle jangle. It is either the most depressing power pop or the most jubilant emo.
Following the tragic passing of Two Moons’ drummer Andrew Massett, the band called it a day, and Liu began recording and dry-releasing digital albums under two distinct monikers—Balloon Club and Ghost Pop. To date, the bulk of music released under the Balloon Club banner has been softer and more atmospheric, while Ghost Pop’s releases are largely first draft run-throughs of songs that could have been on Strings. Water Songs—the newest EP from Balloon Club, and Liu’s first on upstart Portland label Bud Tapes—makes an effort to wed those two divergent identities.
The most immediately striking thing about Water Songs—especially in contrast to Liu’s other releases—is the relatively hi-fi production. Elsewhere in Liu’s catalog, the musician’s voice is treated or situated at the back of the mix; on Water Songs’ opener “Chaos Magic,” Liu’s scratchy falsetto is front and center and seems almost completely unaffected. It’s a bold aesthetic choice, particularly in this era of feigned artistic ineptitude.
There’s a sense of clarity here that’s novel for Liu. Two Moons’ greatest songs sound like pop hits beamed to Earth from another galaxy, and previous Balloon Club releases could feel more like content dumps than deliberate artistic statements. While those approaches also work, Water Songs is a little less ramshackle in execution—each of its six songs are built around the conventional lineup of drums, rhythm guitar, and bass, with the occasional cameo from a chilly keyboard line or scorching electric guitar lead. The production is crystalline and fairly conservative, and Liu’s songs benefit from the cohesive presentation more often than not.
At first blush, Water Songs brings to mind Tony Molina’s newer, more laid-back releases. Both artists are, for lack of a better expression, native basement shredders making a play for the dignified singer-songwriter niche—and both artists possess classical, reformed-Guitar World-subscriber sensibilities that are a little too clever for DIY. Liu, like Molina, is in thrall to pop’s ‘60s and ‘70s forebears, as evidenced by the whirling, Dylan-esque organ that carries much of “Drown,” or the dizzying profusion of Betcha Can’t Play This guitar solos that are bound to frighten anyone who doesn’t appreciate classic rock formalism.
Unlike Molina however, Liu stretches out, and his lyrics are a big focus—his stanzas drift effortlessly between autobiographical and impressionist, evoking Elliott Smith at his trippiest and most existentially confused. The metaphors are purposefully half-baked, as on “Slow at the Scene of a Car Crash”—which is presumably more about a dissolving relationship than an actual car crash. “Slow at the end of the hour, there wasn’t really so much to do,” Liu sings toward the end of the song, before finally giving up the ghost: “I’m sorry if the feeling is sour, I think that we should still see this through.”
Interestingly, one of the EP’s highlights, “Sitcom Theme,” has no lyrics whatsoever. It’s purely instrumental, putting it in the same category as much of Balloon Club’s output, and it evokes, well, its namesake. In less capable hands, “Sitcom Theme” would probably scan as a forgettable novelty at best—but it features some of Water Songs’ most satisfying melodic twists. The fact that a piss-take could be this good speaks to both Liu’s talent and taste; it’s rare that you find a songwriter with both.