Article by Corbin Young, photos: Tory Warner
Probably one of the greatest
musical adventures of my life was when I recorded and played in Lauren Moseley’s
band. Lauren was then and probably still is now a free spirit, occasionally
counterproductive, occasionally unpredictable. I don’t remember who she
approached first my brother, or myself but after the three of us working
together on “Nougats” (a spoof of the Nuggets compilations) we decided that
we’d record the Lauren Moseley album over the summer of 2010. And it was a big
task for my brother and I, Arguments and jokes spilled on after the tracks
showed how tense it could be to record with her, there was odd numbered
sections and some songs I just guessed with the chords and worked it out after
successive takes. The clanging of dishes, trains, and footsteps occupied the
album as well. It was like we were pioneers of a great unknown, or on a ship
facing the boring reality that is mundane life in a Dallas suburb. We’d go in,
Broderick and I would learn her songs, record, re-record, mix, and hopefully by
the end of the process something good came out. I remember spending day after
day, stuck in the “studio,” which was really the upstairs living/music room,
diligently working on tracks, re-doing out of time drum parts and vocals. And
it was amazing when it finished. I know I’m biased and I know the recording
wasn’t “pro,” but there was something in the songs that still lingers; a
journey we’d all still like to take or go on again.
An Epitaph to the Lauren Moseley Band
For me, that journey was playing the
scarce amounts of shows with her and a backing band. I recruited two members
from my previous group (Corbin and The Loners): Paige Thompson on flute, and “Giermo”
McManus, the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, on bass. And through a facebook
friendship I found Eric Saffle who would wonderfully play drum set after my
brother had to leave. Together we formed in my mind a culture of freedom and a
culture of excitement outside the terrible monotony of suburban Colleyville. We
were the only band in the only “scene” that existed there. Sure there were
other people, and other bands, and there were hipsters who could play guitar,
but as far as I’m convinced they didn’t have the type of stuff that we all
ideally exhibited. I’d plug in my SG Special into my multi-effects pedal and
Lauren would break out the Jaguar, Giermo would pump out supportive lines,
flute mimicked guitars, drums were loud and full, and then we’d just go at it.
It was the music I was born to play. The live sound also differed drastically
from the recorded album, new songs were added, and we went different ways with
the songs. It felt free, it felt right, and even with the flaws of my bad
backup vocals, or out of tune guitar, the live Lauren Moseley sound was such
that it didn’t necessarily matter who listened, it just mattered that we all
were present, we were there and we knew how great it was.
Because we were in a
small scene, a new band, and bad at getting gigs the band together only played two
gigs; the first being at Grapevine’s only alternative record store/rehearsal
space Play Pause Replay. Until I began doing more over-the-top things with my
current band Noiserock Treehouse, it was the best show I had ever played. I
cannot tell you the hours upon hours I have watched the footage of that gig. It
was truly a magical performance in a suburban vacuum that only the few people
who knew about us were really able to check out. The next show at Jupiter House
was just a bad venue for the band, and while we played better than at the first
it sadly wasn’t a good fit and I’m pretty sure the staff were glad once we
left. After that show the band faded out of contact, we all went our separate
ways more or less. I played a few gigs at Roots before she left the country and
later formed my current band Noiserock Treehouse. I still see some of the
members now and then, others more frequent than others.
Now looking
back on a band that once was and possibly could have been more productive in
forms of recording output, and shows, Lauren’s band footage and recordings are
a testament to action in a sea of passivity in a place where band members or
even like-minded individuals going against the mainstream were hard to find.
It’s both a victory and a defeat that this epitaph I am writing exists but in
light of that I’ll end it here.
For me, that journey was playing the
scarce amounts of shows with her and a backing band. I recruited two members
from my previous group (Corbin and The Loners): Paige Thompson on flute, and “Giermo”
McManus, the nicest guy you’ll ever meet, on bass. And through a facebook
friendship I found Eric Saffle who would wonderfully play drum set after my
brother had to leave. Together we formed in my mind a culture of freedom and a
culture of excitement outside the terrible monotony of suburban Colleyville. We
were the only band in the only “scene” that existed there. Sure there were
other people, and other bands, and there were hipsters who could play guitar,
but as far as I’m convinced they didn’t have the type of stuff that we all
ideally exhibited. I’d plug in my SG Special into my multi-effects pedal and
Lauren would break out the Jaguar, Giermo would pump out supportive lines,
flute mimicked guitars, drums were loud and full, and then we’d just go at it.
It was the music I was born to play. The live sound also differed drastically
from the recorded album, new songs were added, and we went different ways with
the songs. It felt free, it felt right, and even with the flaws of my bad
backup vocals, or out of tune guitar, the live Lauren Moseley sound was such
that it didn’t necessarily matter who listened, it just mattered that we all
were present, we were there and we knew how great it was. 
