This Is Memorial Device in Bloomington, MN

First,
This Is Memorial Device
was a book, then a play, now an album. Written by
David Keenan
, the book tells the story of a fictional band from a small town in Scotland during the heady post-punk early '80s. It's structured like an oral history and captures all the promise, dreams, hallucinations, and hard realities of youth and getting older, all while trying to make some kind of grand, or at least lasting, statement. The book truly captures a fleeting moment in time and was begging for some kind of visual adaptation. It was reworked for the stage by
Graham Eatough
as a one-man show starring
Paul Higgins
that was bolstered by visuals and music. The latter was provided by someone who well ought to know what that era was like because he was there:
Stephen Pastel
, leader of the legendary band that bears his name. He was aided in the pursuit by
Gavin Thompson
, formerly of the band
Findo Gask
and
the Pastels
' sound man for their rare live shows. The two weave together monologues from the show and haunting, autumnal music that gives the words and voices some extra emotional heft. Working with other members of
(
Katrina Mitchell
,
John Hogarty
, and
Tom Crossley
), they don't seek to make music that Memorial Device might have made, but rather whip up shards of industrial noise that clatter and clang; clouds of dream-like melodies that drift like smoke; slowcore, guitar-forward tracks; and one song, "The Most Beautiful House in Airdrie," that only needs a chorus to rank in the pantheon of
' best work. An exception to the perfectly pitched soundtrack-style music the duo and friends have made is the hilariously apt post-punk rocker "We Have Sex", which was actually sourced from teenage jam sessions
Pastel
had with his friend
John McCorkindale
back in the day.
Thompson
has re-edited the song, and it's a glimpse of teenage vitality as it churns menacingly, guitars slashing at the air wildly, and
McCorkindale
howling like a pre-verbal
Mark E. Smith
. It may not sound like everyone's idea of what Memorial Device might have actually sounded like, but they certainly could have shared a bill with the group at one of their very few performances. The album's -- and show's -- final song, "The Morning of the Executioners," does, indeed, attempt to imagine the final recordings made by the band's vocalist, Lucas Black. It is lovely and triumphant, the steadily strummed guitars and regal horns combining to lend an air of small-scale triumph to the tale's conclusion. Despite the trials and tribulations the band went through, it is ultimately a success story, not because the group gained fame or riches but because they tried; they did something that was important, something that meant all the world to them and their circle of friends and fans. The stage show in this form is a perfect distillation of all the themes and feelings the book digs into, boiling them down to the truest, most intense nuggets, and
's music is a big part of why it works so well both in the show and as a stand-alone album. ~ Tim Sendra