Three weeks ago tomorrow, we released The Speed of Time, the fourth album from Arthur Alligood’s project, phoneswithchords. It’s a spectacular evolution of the project, featuring great performances by drummer Doug McCarthy and mixing (plus some musical additions) by Nick Webber.
Since we are still waiting on the actual tapes to come in (due to delays at the plant), how about a little word salad ahead of the October 4th Bandcamp Friday? What follows is a (late) stream of consciousness sort of response to this album – after countless listens, conversations, and time to let it sink in while just listening straight through. If it’s all a little too much in the feelings I totally get it, but hey that’s where this record hits me and might hit you too?
Bitter Blink
A growing call, a cacophony, a chaotic rush, culminating in… a blissfully Beatles-esque pop song, with a delightfully lo-fi sheen, the breakdown at 1:59 is so soft and subtle, leading to the repetition of “it’s a bitter blink / you never know when it’s time” until it’s burned so deeply into your soul that you can’t help but wonder – what the hell does that mean? Is it the bitterness of how life can escape you in the blink of an eye? How things change both so fast and also so slowly that you don’t know where the time went, or what you were doing?
Poor Progress
“If you find you a pulse it’s a heart attack” – in the mess of life we get so overburdened by the mundane, the routine, the rote, the nothing, that too many times we don’t bother to open our eyes and take notice until it’s something catastrophic. It’s a death, it’s a flood, it’s love, it’s war. The song itself – the music – is so damn good and truly gives us the first real tease of what a live band pwc show might feel like, with bashing drums and riffs to make you shake it.
Where You Going To?
Classic sweet, warm-toned Arthur greets us here, posing a simple question that isn’t simple at all. Somewhere between naive hopefullness and a personal reminder in “Don’t Let Me Stop You”, once the drums kick in this one goes full on Flaming Lips, with everything going full blast with pure emotion saturating the tape (ok, the 1s and 0s, whatever). Honestly, it’s a little sad if you can relate to the feeling. Like the whole “if you love someone let them go” thing – you have to trust that they’ll figure it out, they’ll find themselves, and you have to be patient. The thing about it – and if you know how I like to connect lyrical dots then you know – following Poor Progress and the anxiety of time, the “progress or evolution” dichotomy forces the question of what if they don’t figure it out? What if they don’t come back? What if you just don’t get the chance? Maybe another song will provide some context…
That’s Just Part of It
Well, dammit Arthur if you didn’t nail that thematic transition. This song has such a heavy, heartbreaking vibe (but with enough of a hint of sunshine to pull us out of the muck). The theme is simple – we KNOW there’s a risk to love, any kind of love at all, but if what we just learned over the past three songs has started to sink in at all, we know there’s a reason for going thru it, so we do. We keep going. And it’s true – “love is music, a song you’ve heard / you know the notes, but you forgot the words.”
You Can’t Bully The Second Hand
Garage band gets a bit dirge-y, because no, we can’t control time to save ourselves or anybody else. You can push and push and push but it keeps going and dragging us along. It feels like we could be teetering towards a breaking point here, and we’re only about halfway thru the record.
I Won’t Let You Down
Just before the break, a promise is made. A reminder of a special connection, all over a truly perfect pop song (handclaps!). I know the lyric is I won’t let you down, but I almost heard “I won’t let you die” and the protective element of relationships – especially of being a parent – keeps rushing in. Towards the end there’s a mutual promise, I won’t let you/You won’t let me down, and while no one is perfect and we all make mistakes, the least – or best – we can do sometimes is try not to let each other down.
The Speed of Time
The record’s theme, the title, and here, the thesis of it all sits, with a soft and subtle guitar carrying us as we revisit the ideas presented thus far as a refresher/a re-examining of where we’ve been. Somehow, Arthur sums it up perfectly in the final verse: “In a world of hurt / taking its time / war after war after war in line / the past is all over, the future never showed up, the present is water / go fill your cup.” Perhaps there’s a bit of foreshadowing here to the album’s closer.
My Only Answer
When it comes to great songwriters, it’s so easy to see from the outside how brilliant they are, how insightful they can be, and how much potential as a human they have. But on the other side of that, there can be so much self-doubt, confusion, uncertainty, and all that darkness that obscures the beauty underneath. This song feels like an acknowledgment of that, a confronting of it, and ultimately, a realization that’s always sitting right there under the surface, that the only way, the only answer, is always, LOVE. Not to minimize anything, but without that baseline, things just simply can’t work.
Are You Asleep?
The grunge pop band vibe is in full effect here, for a bit of a dismal dystopian jammer, with sick riffs and an opening stanza that appeals to this extremely nostalgic old music dude: “somewhere history made a pact with a bitter, broken record stack / cycles circle re-exchanged / round and round they’re all the same.” WAKE UP NOW.
She’s Leaving
Lo-fi rock textbook tones here, straight out of some mid-90’s GBV at first listen, though it opens up and just pummels the heart – it’s not “she’s leaving you,” it’s just “she’s leaving” (don’t take it so personally!). But really, this is probably the most straight-ahead rocker of the album (complete with some tambo action to give the Gin Blossoms a run for their money) and forces the acceptance of change, the passing of time, growth, maturity, and perhaps a bit of shear terror from the perspective of somebody who loves her.
If You Think You’re Close
A vital reminder that it’s not all about some final destination. Whether it’s “enjoy the process” or “appreciate what you’ve got” or “live in the now” it can be so so so hard to feel like whatever you’ve got going on now is enough, especially when we’re so programmed to play the comparison game and view ourselves through everybody else’s eyes, we’re all on our own trip. If you think you’re close, don’t just wait for the next part – take it in and feel that joy. The song bares it all, with an acapela delivery leading to a wall of voices to carry us through… but really, we’re already there.
Thanks for reading. Check out the album here.