Far

At Night We Live
(Vagrant)

“Don’t call it a comeback…” Oft-quoted, L.L. Cool J’s assertion that he’s “been here for years” is perfect for occasions such as this. In the mid- to late ‘90s, Far blurred the line between backwards-cap, Addidas-clad nü metal and heart-on-sleeve emo rock, and managed to do so in the most graceful manner possible. Their emotionally potent, fist-pumping (not the Jersey Shore kind) brand of heavy music probably could have had a huge impact on the world outside of Sacramento–it should have. And though Far certainly carved a niche among music fans at large, their 1998 breakup truncated what could have been.

Of course, the members of Far never went anywhere. The band’s name has always been uttered with no small amount of reverence, and its members had no problem moving on to other successful projects: Guitarist Shaun Lopez went on to helm The Revolution Smile, bassist John Gutenberger played with Two Sheds and Jackpot and frontman Jonah Matranga became most notable after Far’s demise for his solo work under the name Onelinedrawing. He even got a good dose of radio airplay when he provided vocals for the Fort Minor (Mike Shinoda of Linkin Park’s side project) single “Where’d You Go.” At Night We Live, set for a May 25, 2010 release, will be Far’s first album in 12 years. Will it make good on the promise they showed over a decade ago, or is it too little too late?

At Night We Live makes a statement toward the former with its huge opening track, “Deafening.” Fittingly, the sound of a timer rattles a few clicks before erupting into a brief battery of powerful riffs. Gutenberger’s sinewy bass lines and drummer Chris Robyn work in perfect symbiosis, powering the verses before giving way to Lopez’s mammoth guitars on the choruses as Matranga wails, “It’s deafening,” as if he’s pointing out the obvious. Later, Gutenberger and Robyn shine again on “Dear Enemy,” a palpitating and circuitous rocker punctuated by a stuttering outro.

It’s not all punch, though, as Far shows that even after a long absence, they’re not afraid to mix it up. Atmospheric tracks “When I Could See” and the sprawling “The Ghost That Kept on Haunting” pull from a much more subtle sonic palette, allowing Matranga’s breathy vocals to take on a sort of dark croon. This creates just enough variety among a collection of songs that sticks to a pretty consistent tone and tempo.

If there were one complaint with At Night We Live, it would be that it’s a bit one note. Songs such as “Give Me a Reason” get lost in the shuffle and are easy to overlook. Also, the final track, “Pony,” the Ginuwine cover that sowed the seeds for Far’s reunion, serves as an anticlimactic conclusion for an album that starts off with such bombast–a clever novelty maybe, but a novelty nonetheless.

Otherwise, there should be more than enough positives here for those who have been waiting with crossed fingers in hopes that another Far album would come. Rest assured that it’s been worth waiting for. But whether or not the band’s shot at a share of the spotlight has come and gone remains to be seen.

Words by James Barone

Click for our interview with Far’s Jonah Matranga and Shaun Lopez [Dec. 2008]

Mike Farrell, Lite Brite
Old Ironsides “¢ Wednesday, Nov. 25, 2009
Words by Adam Aaake “¢ Photos by April Fredrikson

In our last issue, no. 47, local musician and show promoter Ira Skinner said that “Sacramento’s music scene is probably in the worst condition that I’ve seen it in my life.” Sadly, I’ll have to agree with that. But in the season of giving thanks and on the eve of our nation’s holiday, I was thankful for the bands that are continuing to kick ass year after year, night after night.

A crowd of over a hundred gathered inside the warm walls of a familiar Sacramento venue that happens to be celebrating its 75th year of operation—Old Ironsides. Jerry Perry, another icon of our local scene and the man responsible for the majority of the booking at Old Ironsides for the past who knows how many years, has put together an all-star series of shows featuring the best acts our city has to offer. Last Wednesday’s bill began with a block party set from the always entertaining Lite Brite. Imagine Buzz Osborne with a voice like Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist, a drummer from the school of Tom Bonham and a bass player with a warm and fuzzy Rickenbacker; throw in a solid lead guitar player and you’re close to their sound. Their opening song, “Space Shuttle” lifted the crowd from their seats and had them orbiting around the stage like well lubricated satellites. Singer Eddie Underwood was belting lyrics through his thick, dirty-blond hair that sprawled across the front of his face, flailing his arm to the ceiling and arching his body forward as a he played an arpeggiated guitar riff with his free hand. An exhibitionist? Maybe. Pretty bad ass? Definitely.

Their fourth song in was ghostly reminiscent of Far circa Tin Cans With Strings to You. What added to this poltergeist was Far bass player Johnny Guttenberg looking on from the side of the stage. Later he would play with Jackpot, who was also on the bill that night, so I guess it wasn’t too strange. It’s great to hear and see the influence that a great Sacramento band like Far continues to have on the current scene.

A skinny-framed man with a tight fitting white T-shirt and a thick head of greasy brown hair that was slicked back over his head approached the stage. He slowly picked up his guitar and slid it over his shoulder in a routine manner, adjusting the leather strap that was decorated with the suits of a deck of cards. A dense crowd was surrounding the stage at this point and it was clear that they were here to see the next act. His name was Mike Farrell and he needed no introduction. The second his guitar was strummed and the set began, the experience and tenacity of Sacramento’s guitar legend proved true once again. This time with his own band, Farrell played a set of grimy rock ‘n’ roll tunes that were layered with keys and violin from the talented multi-instrumentalist Liani Moore. Veteran drummer Mike Curry did his thing on the skins while keeping the back end pocket with bass player Shawn Hali.

This performance was all about Farrell, though. When he solos you listen; touching every part of the guitar and producing sounds from his instrument that seem otherworldly. He raised his hand over the guitar as it hummed, controlling it like a shaman—he owns its soul. His mouth pursed, and he stepped to the microphone and muttered his lyrics, more concerned with the noise of his chord that continued to linger.

His music is a rare fixture of the scene that we as the local fans have the pleasure of seeing, and that, my friends, is what I am thankful for. I am thankful for the huge crowd that gathered on a brisk Wednesday to support a bill of favorites and a venue that has housed the sounds of thousands of bands over the course of its live music lineage.

Tonight, Ira would be proud.