duvall

volume and density

‘Sometimes an album’s significance is relative less to its actual sound and more to its historical context. Duvall’s “Volume & Density” may be one of those albums.

In the early ’90s, before “indie” had the same connotation that it does today, two-thirds of Duvall’s members were out there living the indie-rock lifestyle. With the addition of drummer Mike Felumlee and bassist Matt Caterer, they comprised the influential and often underrated band, The Smoking Popes.

Sure, they may not be credited as the group that started it all or made revolutionary changes to music but in some ways are more of an important group than Sunny Day Real Estate or Fugazi. In that infinite quest of the indie rocker to find the most obscure bands that have weaved their way into the independent music fabric for years, The Smoking Popes score pretty high on the charts.

The band’s members have been making music for nearly a decade and a half now, and their sound has influenced many headlining acts of today. Take Alkaline Trio, for whom Felumlee went on to briefly play drums, as an example. A close listen to these two bands would produce an undeniable connection in the listener’s mind. Search through the indie section of your CD collection. You’re bound to find something that may be derived from the Pope’s catalogue.

Duvall picks up where their former band left off. They’re writing a similar style of song that will make you wonder if this album was written about a decade ago. Vocalist Josh Caterer’s voice is still a bit frog-ish. The songs still occasionally employ solos. But these are elements that are easy to look past. Duvall is a band with which it is easy to sympathize. Something intangible in their music fraternizes with you. It aligns itself with you. Disliking these songs would be like disliking the songs your brother so proudly wrote and showed to you. He’s worked so hard and so long on them.

Even the cover of Spandau Ballet’s “True” is unabashedly catchy. You’ll keep singing it over and over in your head, regardless of how badly you want to pretend ’80s music didn’t exist.