The Can't See: a potent shot of wry, with a twist
John Atkins is the relaxed figure behind the bar, serving Rainier beer and Jägermeister shots — the order of choice tonight at the Cha Cha Lounge. This lower Capitol Hill bar is a mecca for Seattle musicians, a place to come and plot musical projects, dine on burritos and opine on bands, and generally drink away the taste left by miserable day jobs.
Atkins is behind the bar, and in many ways he also sets the bar. Each of his bands has set a standard for Seattle indie rock bands: With Hush Harbor, particularly 764-HERO, the Magic Magicians and now the Can't See, his ear for music has long been impeccable. His eye for detail is also powerful, and on the Can't See's debut, "Coma Comma No More," Atkins is starting to sound like the Seattle music scene's Charles Bukowski.
Maybe this isn't the best point of comparison, as the humble, friendly Atkins is hardly as boorish, arrogant or ravingly drunk as the late L.A. poet; rather than a gnarly barfly he's more of an amiable barfly swatter.
The bartender/musician has said in the past that it's just a job and doesn't have much direct effect on his writing. That may be, but his subconscious is surely saturated with the colorful characters and wet wit one finds in a drinking establishment. Listening to the striking lyrics that fill "Coma Comma No More," you get the idea it could only have been written by someone who spends significant time in a bar.
You better make it a double
'cause your lawyer takes half
("Young Ideas")
Well you've got your friends
But that depends on how many times
Their elbows bend
And what they're pouring down their throats
It could fill a moat
("Your Friends")
At one point, 764-HERO seemed ready to rocket Atkins out of his day job (night job, in his case), poised to mirror the major-label success of its peer, Modest Mouse (the bands had an early split recording). But like champagne left out too long, 764 fizzled in the summer of 2002, and Atkins went into a rare musical seclusion.
Fortunately, it didn't last long, and soon enough he was jamming with drummer Thomas Wright and Atkins' first-time-ever keyboardist, Ken Jarvey.
"Ken Jarvey is a musician that, whether on keyboards or saxophone or anything else, complements the song and lets me just be the guy that plays an A minor and sings," the songwriter explains, via e-mail. "It's also the first band where the others all sing, so that's fun, too."
Atkins, Jarvey and Wright share a passion for bowling and have been rolling spares and strikes in Seattle clubs over the last year. The band's album is a lively mix. With keyboards, and the occasional lap steel guitar, banjo and synthesizer brightening up the background, the music is a little more on the poppy/upbeat side than, say, the deliciously dour 764-HERO. It's often counterbalanced by Atkins' dark writing — wry portraits of the common folk, floating on whiskey pretensions into bourbon blackouts.
More than mere amusement, it's a mature, complex writing style that often bounces back and forth from exterior scenes to interior gut-twisting. Again, Atkins is setting the bar for his Seattle peers:
Your thoughts I have to surgically remove them
cut out with scalpel and simile
you wear a paycheck on your sweater
to prove that you're working and you're warm
("Sad Version")
that blasé neon hue of suburban sprawl
you've seen it all
...
You hate that you sound
Like the end of a bar fight
All cursed and slurred
("Bar Fight")
the chemical smell that you wear so well
like a ghost it would follow me home
("Clarity")
The word "chemical" pops up a couple of times on the album.
Asked if it has significance, the lyricist responds, "Chemical balance and imbalance makes the world go round, and if the world spins in a confusing way, you take your meds.
"Also ... once it is used in reference to the photo lab in your head and the chemicals that are needed to develop the pictures of your memory."
The chemicals inside his head are clicking in a most pleasant way, and clubgoers will get a chance to see Atkins' latest project when the Can't See opens for the Portland duo Quasi — Sleater-Kinney drummer Janet Weiss and her ex, Sam Coomes — at 8 p.m. Saturday at Neumos ($10-$12).
• Camping out at Neumos might not be a bad idea this week, as the Capitol Hill club has a few other nights featuring top-shelf local bands.
It's Carissa's Wierd survivors night, with the twangy Sub Pop act Band of Horses — Ben Bridwell and Mat Brooke — and talented new alt-country singer Sera Cahoone (CW drummer) sharing a bill at 8 tonight ($10).
The precocious pop duo Smoosh charms at 8 p.m. Thursday at Neumos with Mates of State ($13-$15). Smoosh recently signed with hometown Barsuk Records, which will release the sister act's second CD in coming months.
Tom Scanlon: tscanlon@seattletimes.com