Imagine what it was like for 4AD chief Ivo Watts-Russell the first time he listened to the Red House Painters' demo tapes. Demos, by nature, are rudimentary things, often suggesting promise but rarely realising it. Most demos are excruciatingly bad - the kind of unlistenable things you play for bemused friends so they, too, can wonder why the potential musician ever bothered in the first place. Red House Painters were luckier. The elusive chemistry was there from the first note. Singer Mark Kozelek wrote songs that defied conventional structure. His lyrics were poetic and plainspoken. He wrote about what he knew. The band played along. Drummer Anthony Koutsos ignored the standard time-keeper temptation to speed things up. He understood the value of playing against such instincts. Bassist Jerry Vessel locked into place, sustaining notes until the setting was nearly ambient. Guitarist Gorden Mack added subtle flourishes, tonal colorings that aided the songs‚ sombre hues. Anyone who persevered, who accepted the fact that these songs took time, was amply rewarded. Ivo sensed this and after minimal remixing 4AD released six songs as Down Colorful Hill, the first Red House Painters album in August 1992. It remains one of the label's strongest releases.
Mark Kozelek was a different person back then. In his early twenties, he saw the world in tragic, even melodramatic, terms. He and a girlfriend parted ways and the nine minutes and fifty one seconds of "Medicine Bottle" followed. The obsessive-compulsive need to work through the details, to relive the experience, to make it seem less dead, made the song an epic. There was no standard verse-chorus-verse-chorus structure that could hold such sentiments. Instead, Kozelek unfolded the songs at their own pace. There's no denying the power of such emotional catharsis. All Red House Painters songs have the urgency of someone who believes.
But that isn't all there is. Yes, Kozelek wrote about his old teenage friend's slip into delinquency ("Michael") and evidence of his own mortality ("24") because those were the things he was drawn towards as a young man. Emotionally, they resonated within him. He'd been working as a night clerk in a San Francisco hotel, two thousand plus miles away from his family back in Massillon, Ohio, not knowing whether he'd ever achieve anything with his music, mostly wondering the same existential questions most young people ask themselves about their position in the world.
Then with the 4AD contract signed and the album released, the band began receiving positive notices in the British music papers. Legitimate comparisons to Nick Drake, Tim Buckley, Leonard Cohen and Van Morrison were made. The band scratched their collective head. Who? Ironically, Kozelek had grown up in America's heartland on mostly classic rock. He liked Cat Stevens' acoustic lullabies and Neil Young's mix of ballads and rockers. These cult acts were beyond his scope.
Interviews were uncomfortable. Journalists probed like psychoanalysts. Kozelek answered honestly. He didn't drive. He'd been sober since his mid-teens. He had problems with intimacy, but craved female companionship. He wrote songs. He didn't feel comfortable on stage. He didn't like doing interviews. The few shows the band did pull off were nerve-wracking. Kozelek would keep his eyes closed and steady himself through the show.
Happily, the band retreated into the studio to record. With 4AD footing the bill, they could finally lay down the backlog of songs Kozelek had stored up. The results were so prodigious they had to be released as two separate albums. Identified by their covers as the 'Rollercoaster'‚ and the 'Bridge'‚ albums, they were both self-titled.
'Rollercoaster'‚ was released first in early 1993. "Strawberry Hill" and "Mother" were compositional monsters that spoke, respectively, of Kozelek's feelings about his public image, and the yearning for the safe, simple days he experienced as a child. "Katy Song" was a landmark. Written about the ongoing struggles of a major relationship in his life, the song is among Kozelek's most sublime. The almost martial rhythm melds into a slow gait as the guitars swirl and build. Like most Kozelek melodies, the tune is simple, with the feeling that each note has been specifically arranged for maximum impact. The song dissolves into a wordless "Hey Jude" singalong, nearly mirthful considering what came before.