*
Beckett was living in Texas, was broke, and did what any sensible person in that situation would do. He donated his body to science. Specifically, some big pharma company gave him some experimental drugs, he answered their questions, and after a few months they gave him a big check. Beckett being Beckett, he cashed the check and went to a record store. He was about to go home to Cleveland for Christmas and so, while shopping for himself, he picked up some extra records to give as presents. My gift was Alien ID by Kicking Giant. I had heard the album before, but it’s not until you own an album that you can really fall in love with it.
The best records tell a story in two chapters. Side A and Side B. The songs that start and end each side are critical choices. The song that ends the record is almost as important as the one that begins it. What mood does the band want to end on? How does the band want to say goodbye to the listener? Alien ID ends with “She’s Real”, a cinematic journey in which Tae Won Yu and Joanna Bronstein duet about broken hearts, hot nights, and endless walks. The song boasts a cast of characters who ooze a timeless coolness. At times in my life when things weren't working out and I was a bit lonely, listening to this song made me wish I led a more interesting life.
I love going for a walk. Especially late at night. I’d routinely pass up a ride home from a show, take a nonsensical route home after work, or just sneak out of the house to get some fresh air. The only drawback from this hobby is most people tell me I walk too fast. “She’s Real” is the ultimate song to hum in your head while walking around alone. Especially in the summer. Even if I don’t hum it in my head it plays on repeat in my subconscious jukebox.
**
Some winter in the late ‘90s, I needed a break from the cold winds of Cleveland. I bought a Greyhound ticket and wrote two letters. One to a band in the Southwest who I’d become friends with despite not having met in person. The other was to a penpal I met in California on a previous trip. I told both of them when I would be arriving and hinted that it’d be really nice if I could crash at their place.
I was living at a punk house called the Litterbox. Like most punk houses it was full of contradictions. One of which was even though sometimes it felt like there were too many people living there, it was quite big. It was easy to not see anyone for a while and lose track of people’s comings and goings. The night before I left I bumped into Walt and reminded him I was leaving in the morning. He decided to spend the night making me a mixtape for the road. The Litterbox was the first place we had access to two turntables and a mixer. For people who took making a mixtape as seriously as we did, this was a big leap. Now when we made mixtapes we could transition to the next song before the previous one ended and overlap them like a radio station.
The climax to “She’s Real” is when the song falls apart to noisy guitar feedback before Rachel Carns starts thudding on her the drums and the band launches into an indie rock tribute to Phil & Ronnie Spector and the ‘60’s girl groups. Tae plays blistering guitar solos, Rachel beats a rhythm that makes you want to dance and go crazy, and Joanna melts your heart with a chorus of “Be My Baby” all while a tambourine shakes in the distance.
Having some fun experimenting with the two turntables, Walt segued from the feedback to a different Kicking Giant song. A short, simple, mellow number titled “Funny Face” that was on a B-side of one of their 7”s. When it ended, the familiar “bum, bum, bum, bum” drums came in with the rest of “She’s Real”. I only brought a few tapes with me on the Greyhound trip and listened to that mix most of all. When I got home it was in heavy rotation. Eventually the two song mashup that Walt made became the de facto official version for me. To this day, when I listen to “She’s Real”, part of me can hear “Funny Face” in my head. At some point I lost the mixtape, so if you find it let me know.
***
Kicking Giant had broken up before I even discovered them. It never occurred to me that I would ever see them live. Even once I moved to their old stomping grounds in the Pacific Northwest. Then, one day, with little fanfare, they announced a reunion show. It wasn’t at some big venue or expensive festival. Just a regular show at a bar in Olympia, WA with Old Time Relijun and a touring band from France. My first instinct was to plan to get down the show by myself. I was worried if I made plans with other people somehow it would get derailed. At the last minute someone would change their mind or a car wouldn’t start. Better to figure out the logistics and fly solo. But in the end, I put aside my loner tendencies and invited friends. Most of them wanted to go. We needed two cars!
The car ride down I was looking out the window thinking about how much I loved “She’s Real” and how many times I danced around to the song while no one was looking. I wanted to see them play it so badly. But I also prepared myself for it not to happen. I view the bands I liked as artists and not entertainers. I wanted to see them play the songs that excited them, not the songs they felt obligated to play to their audience. I wanted a performance, not a transaction. But, it would be really fun to get to dance to “She’s Real” with a group of people and not just alone in my room.
The band launched into their set and were so alive. Tae’s guitar playing and Rachel’s drumming were a whirlwind of sound. All the little subtle moments from the records were played perfectly. I jumped around, sang along, and was lost in the music. After a while, when it seemed like the set was coming to a close, there was some movement from the side of the stage. Three women in ‘60s style dresses walked on stage. They each were holding tambourines. For years I heard “She’s Real” on CDs, records, and mixtapes. Both tapes people made for me and tapes I made for other people. But, I’d never heard it performed live. I can’t think of time in my life when I was more prepared for a band to play a song.
I was just listening to this song the other day and remembering a pretty bad mix tape mash up I put on someone's tape where I mixed the Alien ID version with the Built To Spill version. Of all the albums of early 90s Olympia, I feel like Alien ID stands out as some kind of pinnacle. Some combo of twee amateurism and electric precision. The songs are razor sharp and also loose and out of tune. The lyrics balance small town scene charm and ny urbane coolness. I first saw them opening for Fugazi when I was 15, and I always loved Tae's guitar and his guitar playing.