Go Metric

Are You Receiving Me? – The Figgs

By Mike Faloon

The Figgs
The Day That Gravity Stopped CD
Stomper Records

I was listening to the Figgs in public and I wasn't wearing a shirt. This is a claim I never expected to make. Nor did I want to. But it is a claim I wouldn't mind repeating given how pleasant the first time was.

"Pleasant." Not a word that typically has fans of the rock and roll clamoring for more, but there it was and there it remains. The Figgs were playing RiverFest in Beacon about a half hour north of where we live. It was 900 degrees in the midday sun. As the previous band wrapped up their set the MC reminded us, the sweaty masses clinging to the sidelines in slow motion searches for shade, that the river pool was open. I didn't know what a river pool was. Nor did my kids but they're smarter than me, wiser. They didn't ask what a river pool was. They didn't question swimming in the Hudson River. They were hot. They heard there was a pool available. They mobilized. My job was simple: direct them to water. If I too managed to cool off, all the better, but hardly the prime directive.

We walked to the river bank. The main stage was fifty some odd yards away. A ramp led us down to the water. The river pool was a brightly colored floating circle. It had a net in the center. Kids stayed in. River creatures stayed out. Maggie and Sean didn't hesitate. I did. I thought I could manage to get in without getting shorts wet. I was wrong. I was also significantly cooler and much more comfortable. Up to my waist I went. With the bottom of my shirt wet I yielded to pragmatism: take off the shirt, get wet, put the shirt—still dry—back on when I was done. Yes. It worked like magic as long as I didn't linger on these facts: 1) in addition to feeling better my shorts were soaked, 2) I was going into the city that night and 3) I wouldn't be going home first to get dry shorts.

Then the Figgs took the stage. I was pretty sure the kids would enjoy watching them. But sitting, watching, and melting in the sun couldn't trump jumping and splashing in the water. So I watched the kids and listened to the band. (Cue Mike Nesmith.)  It was really pleasant.

The Figgs opened with songs from the new album, The Day Gravity Stopped. That's just what I'd been hoping for. It's a really good record. Pretty much everything clicks, whether it's an acoustic song ("Jupiter Row"), a country tune ("Can't Sit Still"), or any one of the pop tunes ("On the Grounds of Stately Homes" is one of most tender tunes in the band's songbook; "Camden Love In" couples a great hook with a sax solo that twists and turns from Steve Berlin to Pharoah Sanders sojourn). The biggest surprise is "Do Me Like You Said You Would," a sultry early '70s radio track in search of that perfect world where it tops the charts for the summer. Overall, it's one of the best records of the band's post-Sucking in Stereo era.

Later in their set, the Figgs covered the Who ("Happy Jack") and the Talking Heads ("Life During Wartime"), both to fine effect, but neither satisfied like songs from The Day Gravity Stopped.

Post-script: The kids are in fine health—none the worse for their river pool experience, though I've been keeping an eye out for signs of subsequent super powers, mutations, that sort of thing.

The Figgs at 25: The RT20 Figgs Podcasts

Blogger, podcaster, Mets' fanatic, DJ, and afiggsionado Steve Reynolds recently spoke with The Figg’s Pete Donnelly and Mike Gent for the always-entertaining RT20 Podcast. It's such a great listen, we’re re-posting here at Go Metric as part of our Figgs 25th Anniversary celebration.

Listen to Pete Donnelly Podcast Part 1

Listen to Pete Donnelly Podcast Part 2

Listen to Mike Gent Podcast Part 1

Listen to Mike Gent Podcast Part 2

The Figgs at 25: I Wanna Know, What Are They Listening To?

This year, the Figgs celebrate 25 years as a band. Since Go Metric couldn't afford silver, we instead asked some of our contributors to write about their five favorite Figgs' songs.

by Steve Reynolds

“Lynette” (Ready Steady Stoned cassette, 1993; Hi-Fi Dropouts CD EP, 1994)
I was working in radio in 1994 when Low-Fi at Society High was released. My friend Jocelyn worked at The Figgs then-label Imago and when I told her that it was one of my favorite albums of the year she said, “Oh, cool! I'll make sure you get the vinyl and the 'Favorite Shirt' single.” That single was the Hi-Fi Dropouts EP, and after one listen I wondered how the band could leave off such a great track like "Lynette." The 24 year-old version of me was well versed in unrequited love at that point, and this Hayes/Donnelly composition about a girl met "in a foreign land" was right up my alley. The co-lead vocals from Donnelly and Gent on the opening lines and the pre-chorus get to the heart of why I love this band so much -- their voices are made to complement each other. The first five years I went to their concerts I always knew a song was about to get more intense when Gent would slide over to share the mic with Donnelly.

The other reason this song leads off my chronological list? I've seen 89 Figgs shows as of this writing, and I've only seen them do "Lynette" twice. I felt like a kid on Christmas each time they broke it out.

(And while I enjoy the version recorded for the 1993 cassette Ready Steady Stoned, the band was running on all cylinders and had mastered the song by the time they recorded it with producer Don Gehman during the sessions for Low-Fi.)

“Bad Luck Sammie” (Banda Macho CD, 1996)
Ah, the should-have-been-hit single. I still don't understand why Capitol Records thought "Girl, Kill Your Boyfriend" was the way to lead off Banda Macho. Perhaps they didn’t want to lead with a song written and sung by a dude (guitarist Guy Lyons) that didn’t sing at all on the band's major label debut. Whatever their reasons, they missed out on having Lyons’ tale of a guy whose life is one downfall after another be the song that broke The Figgs. I’ve played for or put "Sammie" on numerous mix tapes and CDs for folks over the past 16 years and I would always get the same reaction: “Who is that? That song is so catchy and so much fun!” I can guarantee someone will yell for it at almost every Figgs show. The guys were smart to keep doing "Sammie" 14 years after Lyons retired, even if the line about "football favorites have always been the Patriots" now makes him seem less like a loser and more like a guy that roots for a dynasty.

“Are You Still Mine?” (Slow Charm CD, 2002)
I went on the road with The Figgs shortly after Slow Charm was released in the fall of 2002. And during that tour there was one song they never played, "Are You Still Mine?" It totally made sense, as the track is very much a product of the studio. It starts with some weird effect done with filters and pedals to create this "doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo" sound that intrigues me still a decade later. Pete Donnelly explained to me how he did it at two different times -- and both times the explanation totally went over my head. Beyond the special effects, it's got some great acoustic guitar fills and has a laid back and sweet vibe unlike any other song in their catalog.

Ever have one of those songs you associate with someone (even though they've probably never heard it) because the lyrics sum up how you feel at the exact right time about that person and you can't actually say the words to them because you're paralyzed by fear? This song was never like this for me. Never.

“Regional Hits” (Follow Jean Through the Sea CD, 2006; Continue to Enjoy the Figgs Volume Two CD, 2007)
Songs about songs are hard to pull off, but Gent nails it here. The first verse is so simple, yet it paints a specific picture that is indelible in my mind:

“What’s that song I heard/Coming from the stereo/I saw girls shaking their hips/and I wanna know, what are they listening to?”

The first time I heard those lines I could immediately see those girls dancing. And then I really wanted to know what got them shaking. Alas, I still don’t know.

As much as I think the studio version is smoking, I have to pick the live take from Continue to Enjoy the Figgs Volume Two. It was recorded in September 2005, before (I believe) the band went in to track the version that was released a year later on Follow Jean Through the Sea. It features guest guitarist Brett Rosenberg, and it’s obvious that he’s not exactly sure where he’s supposed to play in the song.  It’s gloriously ragged, and at the end of the second verse Gent yells, “Regional Hits sound so -- the bridge.” The band leaps into bridge, and then after a few bars you can hear Gent say something to Rosenberg (maybe “yeah, play?”) and then he just takes off into this fantastic from the hip solo. Shortly into it Gent yells, “Yeah, keep it going!” And Rosenberg does. It’s such a, well, fucking awesome solo that after it ends you here a woman in the audience yell “woo woo woo” as if it was the greatest thing she’s ever heard. And perhaps it was.

“One Man Fiasco” (The Man Who Fights Himself CD, 2010)
I saw The Figgs when they played this song for the very first time (October 17th, 2008 at Valentine’s in Albany, New York). It’s a mid-tempo track where Gent sings about a man who, like the title character of “Bad Luck Sammie,” has one misfortune after another befall him. (All of them of his own accord.) It definitely had an impact on me that night (and the next evening when they did it again), but I had forgotten about until the band’s release party for The Man Who Fights Himself at Fontana’s in New York in May of 2010.

Before the show Gent told me that his uncle had died and he'd have to travel up to Troy (just down the road from their hometown of Saratoga Springs, New York) in the morning for the funeral. During the set, just before "A One Man Fiasco," Gent told the crowd about his uncle and asked everyone to raise their glasses in honor of him. And every single person did. It was a very moving sight. And then when Gent got to the third verse, well, things got a bit dusty in that basement club:

"Maybe some sleep, will bring a little peace.
The saddest thing I've ever seen.
Family will come, and eventually
All will have to leave."

It was the most emotional moment I've had at a Figgs show in probably a decade and one of my favorite memories from a band that has provided me with plenty of them.

The Figgs at 25: Tough Guys Don’t Acknowledge Math

This year, the Figgs celebrate 25 years as a band with the release of a new album, The Day Gravity Stopped. Since Go Metric couldn’t afford silver, we instead asked some of our contributors to write about their five favorite Figgs’ songs.

by Mike Faloon

“Who Hung That Sign?” (Sponic zine 7" compilation, 1998)
This is my favorite Figgs song. It’s also, coincidentally, one of the kindest cuts in the band’s songbook, certainly the most empathetic Mike Gent tune. I tend to think of Mike Gent as the rock guy and Pete D. as the pop guy but that’s a simplification. “Who Hung That Sign?” is gentle and soothing, bass-driven with guitars sprinkled on top. If you’re grey and feel low/Forget her and your heart grows/Just break those ties/Become a new guy. I used to think it was one friend consoling another. Now I think it’s a dude advising himself. I’d like to know what the sign says. “Closed”? “Out of order”? I think it may be a metaphor for the Figgs adapting to life without Guy Lyons in the band. I think a lot of things.

“Much to Lose” (Rejects LP, 2000)
I didn’t ask for this/My momma pushed me in. Sounds like a punk rock version of “Bohemian Rhapsody.” But whereas Freddie Mercury released his existentialism via the Metropolitan Opera House, Guy Lyons doused his Jagermeister and unleashed it on the stage of dive bar. I love both takes. I just wish “Much to Lose” got even a sliver of the same time in the spotlight. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me/My brain is the center of too much activity” Toward the end of John D’Agata’s About a Mountain he devotes most of chapter to the backstory of Edvard Munch’s “The Scream.” When I read it I thought about the “yeah yeah yeahs” that close out “Much to Lose.” How did this song end up on the cutting room floor?

“Three Times a Riff” (Badger CD EP, 2001)
For a lot of Figgs fans the Badger EP is the record with “The Trench.” Decent tune but not even the best Pete Donnelly song on the disc. That distinction goes to “Three Times a Riff.” My theory is that it’s fueled by the contrast between a tough, kick ass guitar riff and the vulnerable lyrics (I feel so left out). I ran that theory by Pete Donnelly.

“I love the Celibate Rifles’ song "Bill Boney Regrets" from LP Turgid Miasma of Existence.  It has such a kick ass bass riff.  ‘Three Times a Riff’ comes from my attempt at writing a song based on that. It’s a heavy riff kinda thing with some stream of conscience lyrics about the flies that pester you in the summer—yeah, you can kill a bunch of ‘em but in the end they are the one's who'll get you.  As a meal!  Yeah, it's vulnerable, but pissed.  I think the narrator is responsible for feeling 'left out', like he's petrified, unable to act.

“We cut it originally in a house in Maine where we started the Slow Charm record.  Then we cut it in NYC and Tyson Meade sang on it.  Then my OCD kicked in and I wanted to keep working on it, so I brought the tape it to Philly and worked on it with Andy Kravitz. We recut the rhythm section entirely but kept Mike's guitars, among some other things like Tyson’s vocals.  I remember being in a really unstable place at this point in my life,  a lot of things weren't going right, and this song was some kind of release. I got completely ripped and spent a night cutting the bass and singing, all by myself, in the studio. Dark days indeed.”  

“If That’s What You Want” (Couldn't Get High CD, 1998)
Half Clash, half Stones. Killer riff with a great call and response chorus to match. This sucker soars from head to toe. There’s so much machismo it verges on being ‘tough guy’ but it winks just enough and in just the places to diffuse things. Add and subtract/But can you handle the division? Tough guys don’t acknowledge math. Also, in the third verse, when the band drops out, there’s a brief, goofy three-note guitar doodle—c’mon, dude, don’t take this so seriously. Perfect timing. That said, it’s weird choosing just one song from The Figgs Couldn’t Get High. It’s the band’s best album and focusing on 1/12 of it seems lopsided, uneven.

“I Got the Drums” (The Man Who Fights Himself CD, 2010)
My theory about this song is that it’s about a drummer packing up at the end of show. As a result of exhaustion, confusion, or drunkenness he finds his anthem—I got my drums, that’s all I need. I ran this theory by Pete Hayes, the Figgs’ drummer who wrote and sings the song. He responded with an annotated version of “I Got the Drums.”

“I Got the Drums”
By Pete Hayes
Annotated by Pete Hayes

I got my hand
On the hi-hat stand (I seem like I know what I’m doing)
I know it goes in a case
That case I cannot place (But I really have no idea)
I got the drums (No, I don’t)

I got the drums
I got the big bass drum (Who calls it a bass drum that has actually been taught to play drums?)
I don’t know where it goes
I don’t know from it comes (Don’t want to end with a preposition)
I got the drums

And if you know me and where I come from (Getting autobiographical here)
Then you would understand that I’m not playing dumb (I am really dumb)
But if it’s do dumb, why don’t everyone play the drums (Originally I wrote, Why does everyone, but Mike and Pete convinced me to change it. Funny, that line was originally a nod to those guys who are both fine drummers. Anyway, it works well both ways.)

I got a van (Not a true story, but I did used to score pot for their old manager so Cement Bunny, my old band, could be considered for Figgs openers. That’s how I actually got to be in the Figgs)
That’s how I got in this band (I actually got in on my rugged good looks alone)
I don’t got nothing else (Not even a van anymore)
I just enjoy myself (Please drive me to the next show)

I got the drums

 

The Figgs at 25: For Self-Indulgent List Fans Only

This year, the Figgs celebrate 25 years as a band with the release of a new album, The Day Gravity Stopped. Since Go Metric couldn’t afford silver, we instead asked some of our contributors to write about their five favorite Figgs’ songs.

by Brett Essler

“Happy” (7"/Ginger, 1992)
At the time of its release, "Happy" sounded like a lost power pop classic. 20 years later, it is.

The Figgs "Happy"

“Waiting for the Sun to Rise” (For EP Fans Only, 2000)
For EP Fans Only  is a boozy, lo-fi “State of the Figgs” address for the post-Guy era with nary a bad cut. From the hushed count-in to the half-time fade out, “Waiting for the Sun to Rise” seems to walk a thin line between virtuosity and falling apart that really sets the tone for the next stage of the band’s career.

“Something’s Wrong” (Sucking in Stereo, 2000)
Sucking in Stereo is the Figgs’ most concise, all-killer no-filler record so I was hard pressed to pick just one of Gent’s knucklehead riff rockers. “Something’s Wrong” is probably the hookiest, but its dark lyrical undercurrent pushes it over the top: “Things aren’t so bad, but they will get worse / as you slide through her purse, you know something’s wrong.”

“The Trench” (Badger EP, 2001/Slow Charm, 2002)
This Donnelly tune is among the best he's ever written, the perfect combination of shout-a-long power pop and sad-sack self-reflection: “The way I act is not who I am / it's only who I want to be.” It’s no wonder Stinson looked these guys up; this is the best late-period ‘Mats song Westerberg never wrote.

“Simon Simone” (Palais, 2004)
Palais is kind of a hot mess, but “Simon Simone” is one of the Figgs’ tunes I go back to most often. There are so many reasons why, but primarily: it’s ridiculously catchy; I never tire of the Gent-verse/Donnelly-pre-chorus vocal trade-off; I feel bad for this Simon Simone guy, who, despite learning the whole set, will never be in the band.

The Figgs at 25: Continue to Enjoy These Top Five Lists

This year, the Figgs celebrate 25 years as a band with the release of a new album, The Day Gravity Stopped. Since Go Metric couldn’t afford silver, we instead asked some of our contributors to write about their five favorite Figgs’ songs.

by Joe Keller

The Figgs! The goddamn Figgs! With so many great tunes, it’s a hard, forehead-kneading, marathon-length mental trek to come up with five and only five songs that are one’s favorite. This is a band that rewards the music nerd, the super fan, the ebay hunter, and the record rack digger. The albums are fantastic and should be sought out by one and all, but search further dear reader and you will find exceptional comp tracks (“Who Hung that Sign”, their cover of “Passion is No Ordinary Word”) and singles you won’t be able to take off your turntable (“Christmas Shake” and the Neck Punch split 7” come to mind). The two recorded eras of the band as quartet and then trio are both different and great in their own ways. In this age when music is essentially worthless in terms of dollars and cents it warms the cockles to know that a great rock n roll band like The Figgsis still, STILL, out there making new records and kicking ass in a club near you. I hope they make ten more LPs and maybe finally put out a singles collection (who do I have to kill to make this happen?) Thank you for continuing to BE The Figgs.

5. "Cheap Cassettes" (Sucking in Stereo, 2000)
The album closer on Sucking in Stereo, and the debut of Figgs 2.0 (or is it 3.0? I am not as knowledgeable about the history of the Figgs lineup as some of the other authors here no doubt are.) In my humble opinion, The Figgs succeeded at redefining themselves as a power trio with this record, wisely taking a somewhat lower-fi-than-usual left turn due to the departure of Guy Lyons. This one reeks of Davies influence especially since it is a nostalgic tune about an outdated music medium.

4. "Rollerskate" (Rejects, 2000)
This one has sort of a Buzzcocks-type (Buzzcockian?) jerkiness to it that I always found appealing. Rejects is probably the best outtakes album ever made. This is the record that got my friend and former band-mate Mike Yannich into the Figgs. I think it’s better than some of the Figgs’ other LPs honestly. The bass is mixed EXTREMELY loud on this record which a lot of the times kills the overall feel of a rock record, but somehow works perfectly on Rejects. I’ve also always had a soft spot for the couplet, “And I know what you’re thinking/You think I’m some kind of square,” for some inexplicable reason.

3. "Chasing After Words" (Follow Jean Through the Sea, 2006)
A bit of an odd choice, but I love this number from Follow Jean Through the Sea. The older I get, the more I find myself not being able to recall names, places, and such and that always reminds me of this song. In the end though, my love of this song is probably due to the fact that I’m a sucker for a finger-snapping, harmonized breakdown. The, “You shouldn’t do that,” back ups towards the don’t hurt either.

2. "Wait on Your Shoulders" (The Figgs Couldn’t Get High, 1998)
My favorite thing about this song is that the liner notes indicate that producer and Dictators bassist Andy Shernoff wanted to veto this track off the album. This sometimes makes me doubt my own love of this song - the man wrote “Loyola” for cripe’s sake! Anyway, the feeling of looming life worries (financial and otherwise) is captured perfectly in this great Pete Donnelly tune, track 2 on their most underrated album, Couldn’t Get High.

1. "Step Back and Let's Go Pop" (Low-Fi at Society High, 1994)
This song is the very definition of a great album opener (or band opener if you will). Any Figgs mix I would make would start off with this. On it’s own it’s a great song, but it also provides the instructions for how to take in the rest of the killer album you the listener are about to enjoy, namely Low-Fi at Society High. The one verse of sparse lyrics are perfect, leaving just enough to your imagination, and the killer guitar lead at the end is one sweet lick. The twin attack of Guy Lyons and Mike Gent in this era is near unstoppable, especially on albums one and two.

The Figgs at 25: Is That Whiskey in Your Something?

This year, the Figgs celebrate 25 years as a band with the release of a new album, The Day Gravity Stopped. Since Go Metric couldn’t afford silver, we instead asked some of our contributors to write about their five favorite Figgs’ songs.

by Jason Fry

1. “The Daylight Strong” (Sucking in Stereo CD, 2000)
Can you ever love a song as much as you love the one that kicked off your infatuation with a band?

For me and the Figgs, it was “The Daylight Strong.” The high-stepping guitar lick grabbed me immediately, the harmonies on that first oooh lured me in further, and the chorus made me stop whatever else I was doing. Man, this is a good song, I thought to myself, and then added: Please don’t blow the bridge.

We’ve all been there – a song has a great riff and/or chorus, but then it reaches the bridge…and falls completely apart. When the band finally crawls away from the mess it’s made, it’s too late. The riff and/or chorus may still be great, but the song’s a miss.

“The Daylight Strong” doesn’t blow the bridge — it aces it. The guitar, drums, and bass line up for brief turns in the spotlight, then there’s that startling near-collision between the oohs and the drums as they start back up, and that lick returns to restake its claim, and if you’re not throwing up a fist or at least thinking about it as Gent hits each STRONG at the end, I don’t know what’s wrong with you.  

2. “Reaction” (Sucking in Stereo CD, 2000)
There must be tens of thousands of albums with one indisputably great song, and thousands with two. But how many pair them for a one-two punch as good as Gent’s “The Daylight Strong” and Donnelly’s “Reaction.”

“Reaction” strolls along with that up-and-down riff that sounds like it’s ascending and descending stairs, echoed by the rapid-fire drum line that sounds like it’s advancing and retreating, and the HEY HEYs tie it all together. It’s a perfect call-and-response song — as it should be, given the title.

Which leads me to an odd fantasy. I’m a huge baseball fan, and I’m convinced “Reaction” would be a perfect soundtrack for one of those between-innings videos meant to fire up the stadium. You can see it, can’t you? Line drives flying off bats whenever Hayes hammers on the drums during that fill, shots of cheering fans when Donnelly sings “reaction,” players throwing up their arms during the HEY HEYs… A guy can dream. 

3. “Excuse the Lame Excuse” (For EP Fans Only CD EP, 2000)
Gent wants to know if that’s whiskey in your something, and it has to do with cold club soda and something shaking out, and later for some reason it’s important to appreciate Side 2 of Tattoo You. I’ve listened to “Excuse the Lame Excuse” hundreds of times and never figured out the words, and so I accept that without help I never will.

Thing is, I’m not sure I want to know them. “Lame Excuse” is such an exuberant mess of a song that not having any idea what Gent’s talking about improves it. And even in my confusion, I love that thumping riff, the line about checking out the girlie-girls (that “girlie” supplies the extra leer), the way the background vocals keep almost colliding with the rest, and of course the gleeful count-ins. Plus the whole idea of asking someone to “excuse the lame excuse” is a shambolic bit of meta-genius.

My only complaint is that they never play this one, no matter how many times I yell for it. Bastards.

4. “Jumping Again” (Follow Jean Through the Sea CD, 2006)
I first heard “Jumping Again” live, while the Figgs were still working the song out, and I loved it from the get-go. I was hooked by the chiming guitar, the way the stately pace of Donnelly’s verses gives way to the urgent chorus, and perhaps the best harmonies the band has ever offered. And that was before I was able to decipher the lyrics, which made me love it more.

“Jumping Again” is what “Talent Show” could have been if fully realized and better produced. The Figgs couldn’t have written this song when they were major-label kids – it’s the song of a band that’s older, wiser and maybe sadder. But only maybe. Donnelly sounds sadder at first, but then there’s the stubborn hope that next time a few more souls will be filing into the shows, and then “want I want to believe in what I want I want to believe,” a line that swallows its own tail. By the time you get to the yeah yeahs and the unhurried fade-out, you feel like hope has beaten weariness to the finish line, if only by a nose.

5. “Powder King” (B-side of “Miss Velvet” single, 1994)
The Figgs are a music-dork’s nightmare – there’s the cassette-only first album, the one that’s only on vinyl, and the one whose contents differ between formats, not to mention all the EPs, songs scattered across compilations and ones that only exist as singles. With most bands, those songs are ephemera you can live without, but the Figgs aren’t most bands: Some of their best stuff is also some of their most obscure. You can be a pretty committed fan and have no idea that “1000 People Grinning,” “Lynette,” “Punch” or “Citizens Band” exist.

Which brings me to “Powder King,” a Donnelly B-side that starts off as spiky punk, throws in some cheerful Muppet choruses and harmonies, then takes a left turn and finishes up as a guitar freakout. It was re-recorded for Banda Macho, but the single’s much better — short and sweet, perfectly constructed and executed, and made to play live. Maybe the Figgs finish up a show by burning through this one, and when you ask the guy next to you he tells you the best version is a B-side, and you’re left wondering, “That’s a B-side? How many more of those do they have?” You have no idea, my friend.