Flush It Friday: A Mountain of Hope
I’m your pal / till I’m dead.
“How rare is it for the same group of musicians to create not one but two beloved bands of the punk scene?” asks Lars Gotrich, producer of NPR’s Tiny Desk. The two bands in question are Pg.99 and Pygmy Lush, the latter being this morning’s surprise residence of the famed NPR series. Without being pedantic or without even wanting to quibble with Lars (we’re on a first-name basis, obviously), to limit the rarity of what this group of musicians has done to just two of their bands is, I suspect, an attempt on Lars’ part not to get bogged down in the sprawling history of the Pg99 collective. There’s only so much room in YouTube video promotional copy! The folks on stage, of course, comprise Pg 99 and Pygmy Lush—with Des Ark‘s Aimée Argote sitting in on piano and backing vocals—but they’ve also contributed to Corn on Macabre, Terminal Bliss, Mannequin, Crestfallen, and, of course, my most beloved Malady. A scene unto itself, to be sure.
But here we are, some 13 years after Pygmy Lush’s last album Old Friends and 16 years from their landmark Mount Hope, when the band fully came into itself as a darker, more brooding, more somber, more emotionally complex and raw version of the kind of quiet, dusty folk-pop of Iron & Wine and Bon Iver. And make no mistake, I do not think of either of those artists as particularly shallow. I am just, perhaps myopically or quite humanly, given over to thinking my bands are always more emotionally resonant, though perhaps that’s why they remain my bands. (I do love Iron & Wine still, though not as much as I once did.) Also hearkening back to that broader indie scene, you can even hear a little bit of The Shins in Chris Taylor’s voice when he opens the set with the classic “Asphalt.” And you can definitely hear the radically sad stylings of Moon and Antarctica-era Modest Mouse cutting through the set’s final track. You do have to wonder if you showed this to fans of those bands either in 2024 or, really, in 2008, would they care? I like to think, now, in 2024, they would. In 2008? It’s harder to say.
The Tiny Desk set is a beautiful family affair. Just like Pg99, there just seem to simply be too many people for a stage that size, a testament to the band’s maximalist approach to, well, everything. Here, that maximalist ethos is somehow so delicately arranged that the atmosphere of the set is expansive; there’s so much room in between everyone’s voices and instruments it almost feels lavish or ornate even though these songs could not be more stripped down. There’s room to breathe and there’s space to grow. And grow the band does: The aforementioned Argote, Gotrich rightly points out, “gives the monochromatic mood so much color” with her sparse piano-playing and backing vocals. The band harmonizes on a gossamer thread, their tendrils reaching out ever so carefully and bashfully, brashly connecting with and disconnecting from one another. Genuinely sweet moments abound, as Widman’s daughter joins the band to supply even more vocal support for the harrowing “Hard to Swallow”; the Taylor Bros. wonder where their mom is and if she can even see from way in the back (and if she’s had an edible); and Argote, after making a very obvious Pygmy Lush lyrical reference, asks, “Is anyone in Pygmy Lush?” when the room somehow fails to immediately understand her. It’s all so immensely sweet and touching. If that doesn’t have you teary-eyed on a too-hot Friday at the end of August, then closer “I’ll Wait With You” surely will. Sometimes we all need the tender embrace of such a song. Sometimes we all need to share that tender embrace of a song with those folks we wish we could give a physical embrace right about now. Sometimes we should all be tenderly embraced. Maybe all the times.
If you’ve never heard Pygmy Lush, welcome to a new favourite. If you haven’t listened to them in quite a while, delight with me in this Friday morning surprise. It’s going to be a beautiful weekend.
But, my word. We’re not here just for Pygmy Lush and my proclivity for saccharinity. We’re here to flush!
TMP! TTT! What would the site be without Stick and Roldy? I shudder to think. (Don’t let me get your goat if I do, though.)
Rolderathis hit us with a phat track premiere from Father Befouled. Ugly stuff.
365 premiered a new little two-tracker from friends-of-the-Toilet Svn.Seeker. Death cover alert! Death cover alert!
Toilet Radio 513 sees Joe n Jordan exploring the Chilean metal scene. More of this, please!
Former contributor Sean Ghoulson is back with a killer review of a wild-ass new album from some whacky, talented motherfuckers in Flagman.
This is Spear‘s Time II Shine, as he gives us the long and lowdown of the much (much much much much much) anticipated Time II from legends Wintersun.
Iron Goddess of Mercy + Transcending Obscurity + Feral + Riffs = Everyone is ready to mosh into the weekend.
There it is! The week that was on Toilet ov Hell. Looks pretty good to me! Go back through the posts, let folks know what you thought of the tunes they reviewed or premiered or discussed. Hit us with those GBUs in the comments. I’m going back to Pygmy Lush. All my love to all of you. Just remember: I’ll wait with you till the end.
