By the time I had gotten around to learning about Eleventh
Dream Day, they had already released a long-player on the same independent
label that legendary Iowa band The Hollowmen had been a part of. I believe EDD
stuff could be found in Amoeba Records mail order sheet that they tucked in the
sleeve of The Hollowmen’s Pink Quartz
Sunblasting release, but it wasn’t until I’d heard that Eleventh Dream Day
had actually been signed to Atlantic records before I bothered to take a
listen.
It was still somewhat rare for an underground rock band to
be signed to a major label back then. The notoriety of the event got me
wondering what I might be missed.
The closest reference point was an e.p. released by Amoeba
featuring an atypical Neil Young cover that everyone seemed to note was
Eleventh Dream Day’s primary influence.
But the e.p. also had a brutish rocker called “Go,” which
sounded like strong potential, but certainly not of the commercial kind that
Atlantic Records would surely be interested in.
From this brief introduction, a copy of their third
full-length, Beet, came into the
college radio station where I worked as the Program Director. The additional
promotional copy of the record that came from Atlantic Records was promptly
secured for my personal use, and it still bares the “Say It When You Play It!”
sticker on the cover, encouraging radio station personal to mention the band
name and record after each airplay.
Beet begins with
the slow burning opener “Between Here and There” with nothing more than Janet
Bean providing a tentative tom-tom gallop while guitarist Baird Figi butts
heads with Rick Rizzo, Eleventh Dream Day’s other guitarist and lead vocalist.
My Music Director recognized the song’s awesomeness and immediately added the
track to our station’s playlist.
“You look past your prime,” Rizzo observes, adding that the
years “Must weigh heavy daily on your mind.” It’s the result of a few years of
being cooped up in an Econoline van, playing Midwestern dives to small crowds
and even smaller paychecks.
By the chorus, the song unleashes, pairing Rizzo and Figi
off each other and providing the second wind to get on the road again, “like
the MC5 way,” suggesting that the band wouldn’t stop until the song is over.
“Testify,” Beet’s
first single, is a concise moment of everything great about Eleventh Dream Day.
It’s here that you begin to notice a pattern to Rizzo and Figi’s twin guitar
attach. They don’t play with each other, per say, but more against each other. The guitar solo of “Testify” is a great example
of this. It’s blistering, chaotic, a less sophisticated version of Tom Verlaine
and Richard Lloyd if they cared less about the precision of their playing and
more about the power of it.
Rizzo and Figi maintain that power throughout the entirety
of Beet, including another go at the
awesome “Go (Slight Return)" but no clues as to what exactly was the strange occurance from April 1, 1988.
Nearly every song on Beet
finds drummer Janet Bean trying to keep time with the controlled chaos of the
guitar but the hoot is the very Exene-esque vocals she adds to Rizzo’s own
blue-collar delivery, lending obvious nods to X without the L.A. melting pot.
This is a very Midwestern record, and without the guitar
heroics that decorate it, Beet could
easily blend into the woodwork of forgotten local favorites.
Instead, Beet became
a forgotten regional favorite, with appreciative fans peppered across the world
thanks to Atlantic Record’s enormous reach.
Too bad the company couldn’t deliver an enormous promotional
reach for Beet, but realistically, would the band ever be the kind of draw that
pulled from beyond the underground?
Stranger things have happened, and one of them-a band from Aberdeen , Washington -would
singlehandedly change the entire landscape of rock music, enabling bands like
Eleventh Dream Day to have a legitimate chance at having a few good years of
financial stability.
That sea change was still a couple of years away, and not
only was Beet’s marketing might
nothing more than a quick fart of Atlantic Record’s promotional department, the
cover itself was low-budget and understated.
As it stands, Beet
became one of those magical bargain-bin finds for many and a document of “I told you so!” snarkiness for any early believers trying to convince you to take
notice. Beet’s strength is in its own
desire to convince you of exactly the same thing-and to grab your attention
through hard, honest performances. They’re bundled with unique and grounded
stories, each one of them compelling and delivered with honest intent.
But the real reason for Beet’s
enduring legacy is the aforementioned guitar hijinks, which are worthy of
slack-jawed awe and probably the biggest shame of the record’s poor name
recognition.
Nearly a quarter-century later, Beet remains in print, a testament to its supporters, for sure, but
more importantly it gives fans of blue collar rock music with some very
expressive guitar explorations another opportunity to discover an overlooked
gem.
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