BEAT HAPPENING - Jamboree (1988)
And once again, we find ourselves at the close of the eighties, but now listening with the perspective of someone in 2025 who wonders: what from the past should we preserve, and what should we let go? There’s endless discussion about what counts as a masterpiece, a milestone, about bands and/or artists without whom certain genres or musical landscapes—now so influential—would never have existed. I don’t think that just listening and becoming aware of something is enough to create anything genuinely new. Much less something that’s never been heard before. So, as the album plays through its songs, the male-female singer combination leaves me uninterested. I’ve already admired this with the Pixies, endured it in Sonic Youth... the same goes for the guitars and my ongoing fondness for Mudhoney. As is often the case, there’s nothing truly new to discover. However, the baritone voice is a welcome surprise when you least expect it; especially when speaking of Indian summers during this stifling late July, where everything fades in the dazzling sun that burns it all away. When I listen to this album now, I can’t help but think—in contrast—about the odd path LO-FI has taken and all those soundscapes that highlight our struggle to grasp what we’re doing, who we are, and that muddle our sense of Self. The internal dialogue dissolves (and no, it’s not the heat) into hollow sounds, perfect scores for the emptiness we carry within. Jamboree jolts us from the stupor that envelops us, and finally I see why this song became the album’s title.