The following post is courtesy of my co-desk jockey, Jerod:
There were two kinds of American indie-rock/college rock in the 1980s—the bands that everyone knew, R.E.M., Camper Van Beethoven, Husker Du, et al. Yeah, I know, those bands were yours. You were there first. Before everyone else figured out how great they were. But then there was that awful night in 1987, you were walking past the local lame-fraternity/sorority bar and from inside you heard a group of drunken idiots singing every word to “It’s the End of the World As We Know It” at the top of their lungs. That was rough.
Lucky for you that you kept a secret stash of bands under your bed for just such an emergency. Bands you could still claim as yours, bands like Let’s Active, The dbs, Dumptruck, Love Tractor. Those doofuses from fraternity row will never get their hands on these bands. These bands are true, still slugging it out on their own terms, still making music for no other reason than to make music. These bands never let you down.
If he were around 20 years ago, Damon Huss would have been part of your secret stash. But he’s here today to keep a tradition alive of American indie rock that never aspired or cared to be anything more than indie rock. Like his underground heroes, Damon rolls the 8-track and throws it all out there for you in all its ragged, jangly, droney, angular, glory. The songs take their time and deliver on their own terms. I have no idea when this was recorded, it could have been yesterday it could have been 20 years ago. Whenever it was recorded, let’s just be thankful that there’s still an honest and great songwriter out there writing in a style that was pretty much forgotten after the underground heroes of the ’80s turned off the tape machines. So here’s Damon Huss, go get him, go hide him under your bed. He’s all yours.