by Alex Hanse (@alexthechemist)
How is it possible that Vernon Manner, the second full-band endeavor and the tenth overall release from Philadelphia-based Webb Chapel, sounds like a fresh start? Zach Claxton has been in the background of the indie rock scene across two decades now, and seems to be warming up to making their lo-fi tape recordings bigger and bolder with a little help from fellow members of Philly’s wealth of talented musicians. But who are they?
With the dissolution of their Austin, Texas based weirdo garage rock band Beth Israel after two albums and an EP on Dull Tools, the now seemingly defunct label of Parquet Courts’ Andrew Savage, Claxton decamped to Philadelphia. Webb Chapel, seemingly in homage to a road bifurcating the neighborhoods of Northwestern Dallas became Claxton’s nom de plume to continue the sonically erratic, lyrically impulsive, and enigmatically irresistible lo-fi guitar pop clearly pulsing through them. I first came across Webb Chapel when Strange Mono, the Philly label who donates all of their proceeds to local mutual aid organizations, put out their third complete album of 2022, with one more to follow right after Thanksgiving that same year. Four years and four Webb Chapel albums later, which include the sunbaked and sandblasted Ocean Bliss Awareness, sequenced as one long ribbon of 1/8” tape; Arrownman, an inscrutable A/B split of sequenced lo-fi bleeps and bloops; the first full band studio cut World Cup, where we’re first introduced to Rachel Gordon and Christian Mailloux; and now, Vernon Manner.
Vernon Manner, not to be confused with Vernon Manor, is not a full band re-recording of “old” material by any means, although it does feature a few from the back catalog. Reworked tracks take the best parts of their OG version and hit ‘em with a little bit of zhuzh— “Consolation Prize” keeps Claxton’s original labored breathing before cutting in newly crystal-clear guitar tones and Claxton’s spring reverbed deadpan. “I’ll Wrap You Up” sharply oscillates between that version found on In The Country and its rerecorded self, with vocals buried even further in reverb. And I sweated for an hour, going back and forth between this rendition of the fantasy dungeon punk “Nine of Swords” and the molasses-slow version which appeared on 2022’s Big Top Terror, agonizing over the jangly, surfy chord progression it opens with and hanging onto its titular chorus before I gave up and asked Claxton directly. They describe it as a “flashback,” a neat reference to another song within a song, nothing more than that.
But those all come later. Much like my first introduction to Webb Chapel (the fantastic instrumental track “More than Masala”), “Summer Again” had me in its clutches hot out the gate, full of overdriven guitars and major chord riffs, lyrics that serve as melody before a chorus shared with Rachel Gordon finds them both crying, “don’t wanna wait for the summer, again.”
One of the standout strengths of full band Webb Chapel are those contributing vocals from former Greg Electric frontperson Rachel Gordon, whose clear soprano is more often than not left neat, here and there shimmered with a bit of reverb. Gordon’s contributions find great purpose both front and center and on backing vocals. Gordon whispers refrains on stylistic outlier “8 Ball” and provides sing-shout harmonies on most pit ripper “Without Love.” Gordon’s centerpiece, the defeated prayer-like “Hail Mary” is built on a fingerpicked melody that resurges in a more somber key on “Fall All Around,” a song so complete in every way it reminds me of every effort Bob Pollard has made to be the Dayton, OH equivalent of Paul McCartney, and about the length Pollard would hit too. After “Summer Again” (and again, and again, and again) this is my favorite cut off the album.
Besides brevity, little of Vernon Manner is predictable, in a showcase of Claxton’s many influences and interests, and a steadfast commitment to trying to remain uncategorizable. “Nowhere,” the longest track at just over four minutes in length, starts with a shimmer of lo-fi synths and ends in a Brian Jonestown Massacre-esque tangle of pure riffage. The gentleness of “Fall All Around” transitions into the punk ripper “End Trails.” Webb Chapel has thrived in this mode for half a decade now, and the addition of bandmates only amplifies Claxton’s adherence to the immediate and seemingly impulsive.
This artistic ethos buried in Vernon Manner’s three reworked tracks is a kernel of the inspiration that surely drives Claxton to such proficiency—that a song is never static, but very much alive, at times holding a riff or a refrain until it finds its way into its next form. What started strong with Claxton alone feels well on its way to being fully realized when capitalizing on the strength of collaboration. Even if the lineup changes.