The Capstan Shafts, Springboard to the Box Wine Set

reviewed by dave heaton

Back at the end of 2004, Dean Wells, aka The Capstan Shafts, seemed to be releasing EPs every couple weeks, but lately he's doing even better; in the last 6 months or so, there's been three fantastic full-length albums, all on different labels: The Sleeved and Granddaughters of the Blacklist on Abandoned Love, Euridice Proudhon on Kittridge, and now Springboard to the Box Wine Set on the Swedish label Yellow Mica Recordings.

Springboard's title may joke of impending fame, but the album is truthfully loaded to the gills with fantastic pop-rock songs that should appeal to people who care about hooks and singing along in the shower and so on. These days the Capstan Shafts are making accessible, everyday music, albeit with lo-fi recording methods that bring fuzziness, short song lengths (many under a minute), and Bob Pollard-esque crazy song titles ("They Call Me the Etruskan Musket").

The Capstan Shafts' music often seems to strike a tone somewhere between joking and ruminative, and on Springboard it's closer to the latter. There's a tangible, yet wistful, sense of despair to many of these songs. He's singing more expressively than usual, like every feeling is important to his daily life. And the overall mood is sad, even when the music has good old rock n' roll energy to it. There's longing to him singing softly about finding "an autographed picture of Sonny and Cher," or repeating "I kinda want to get out / kinda want to get out tonight," or declaring, "I won't mind / if you show me your sunshine." He sings these hopes and laments over impeccably catchy melodies, and that's key to the album's appeal, the way - like much of the best pop/rock music - it is fetching to the ears while at the same time stirs up something deeper inside of you.

Throughout the album he sets great tunes to sincere, kind of humble, expressions of loneliness, often taking the form of a hope to get away or find a better life. One of my favorites is a song called "The Wives of Halloween Whiskers," which starts, "why can't we take off tonight / around the world and back by light" and eventually rolls out a loose guitar jam behind his dream of escape. In fact, the music's often loose; with the short song lengths it's often like we're hearing a cut-up version of an overnight jam. There's also a fair amount of piano - the perfect instrument to suit the introspective side of the songs - and a rustic, country-ish tinge. Put that all together and on this album the Capstan Shafts often sound like a lo-fi, one-man version of The Band. Other times he's like Paul McCartney at the piano alone, but a billion times less cheesy.

The album ends with Wells banging on a piano, pleading to someone, "lighten up my heavy heart." Are piano ballads in or out of fashion this season? He doesn't care, he's just up there in Vermont ("the maple belt," as one song puts it) creating. To some extent the Capstan Shafts seem to exist outside of the music world. He's creating a steady stream of these magical little songs, which people may or may not hear. Here's hoping they will...

{www.yellowmicarecordings.com)