Mention Patrick Bower and chances are few will know the name. After all, his recent self-released album Beach Closed is his first solo outing. His story, though, begins ten years ago while still living in Bloomington, IN and later, Indianapolis, fronting the shamefully overlooked Even Homer Nods (later shortened to The Nods). After a botched East Coast tour due to the tour van nearly exploding, he relocated to Brooklyn and shortly thereafter began his current project, The World Without Magic.
While a common thread pulses through each incarnation it is Beach Closed that finds him the most comfortable in his voice, his songs, and his signature all-white get-up.
In his previous work, Bower distinguished himself by penning memorable melodies, and packing many instruments and sounds into an abbreviated pop setting, but Beach Closed finds Bower at long last stretching his legs and fleshing out the songs by stripping them down and in turn, whispering them loudly into your ear.
From the equally precious and haunting “Glad That You’re Wrong,” featuring the soft female voice of Tam, to the gently rolling “Holy Ground,” where simple slide guitar evokes a less-silly Randy Newman or sober Harry Nilsson, everything coasts along with ease.
“I’m a known dissembler of truth,” Bower warns the listener and, sure enough, the frightening “Take a Picture” takes hold of the speakers with a low Moog rumble pushing the spiritual tome to the forefront. “It’s quiet/and it’s empty,” indeed and it is here that while the heart races it is easiest to breathe deep.
“Somewhere far away/Brittle engine take me there,” (“Little Towns, Little Prayers”) perfectly sums up the common feeling through all these numbers; it isn’t a longing for a lost love or a pining for the one that got away, rather a simple wish to get away from everything altogether, love and loved ones included.
It is this idea that at times, forces the music to be jagged, cutting, and unwelcome, most notably, the abrupt changes in “See Ya When We See Ya,” and the lumber of “Haley, You’re Talking Crazy.” Still, the album shows Bower at his most accessible, American, and exactly where he wants to be: all by himself.
-Luc Rodgers
Patrick Bower: www.myspace.com/deadhandkiller