Winter storms are punishingly cold and uncomfortable, but are an important source of water for spring growth. Likewise for Dead Confederate, the series of New Jersey blizzards that besieged the recording of sophomore album Sugar (a reference to the record snowfall) also heralded growth from the darker, somber realm of their critically acclaimed Wrecking Ball. With an evolving approach and focused, streamlined sound, Sugar explores new styles beyond the aching, bleak psychadelia of the debut.
"We were expressing long, drawn-out anguish on Wrecking Ball, but it would have felt repetitive to do it again. They just weren't the songs we were writing," vocalist-songwriter Hardy Morris said. "It was a very natural progression to do something a little different."
That progression was shaped by tours with legends Dinosaur Jr. and Meat Puppets, which increased Dead Confederate's appreciation for the pioneering musicians of the 80s and 90s that laid the foundation for the band's sound. The group also got ideas for their own work: New songs that developed were lighter and tighter (while Wrecking Ball had seven songs longer than five minutes, Sugar has none), without abandoning the driving guitarwork and unbridled emotion that has set them apart.
"I'm definitely influenced by the bands I've toured with. They can really combine epic jam moments and classic-rock elements. It inspired me to try more upbeat songwriting," said bassist-songwriter Brantley Senn. "You can still do that and play the songs hard."
And Dead Confederate certainly plays hard. With guidance by star producer John Agnello (who, aside from Dinosaur Jr., has also helmed records by Sonic Youth and The Hold Steady) Sugar pounds with a weighty, dark alt-grunge fervor that recalls Smashing Pumpkins' heyday; at other times, the record buzzes with a frantic distortion and howling anger reminiscent of The Walkmen. Psychedelic and prog-rock elements add depth to a broad and diverse direction for the band — perhaps most evident on "Run From The Gun," which blends harmony and Mellotron into a drifting, airy commentary on war.
"That developed from my thinking about our treatment, or mistreatment, of Native Americans. I'm kind of a history buff, and a lot of history makes you angry," Morris said. "It occurred to me that the easy answer would be to go back to all times in history and tell people to run from the gun."
For those who have been following the band since it rose to prominence four years ago in the fertile Athens, Ga., music scene, there's still plenty of the simmering, sludgy grunge revivalism that was their early trademark. The title track finds the band once again careening between tense, hushed dramatics and thrashing, explosive release. About relationships and missing home, both "Sugar" and the brooding "Father Figure" will satisfy those who couldn't get enough of snarling gloom of "Goner" or "Start Me Laughing" off Wrecking Ball.
But perhaps nothing on the record is as relentless and merciless as "Quiet Kid," which Senn describes as "straight-up shock rock … way over-the-top." A jarring, distorted whirlwind of rage that matches the mood and sound of Radiohead's Hail To The Thief, "Quiet Kid" captures the confusion and torment of "being young and strange and dealing with high school," Senn said. A maelstrom of sound and emotion in under four minutes, "Quiet Kid" is an example of what Senn took from his influences while crafting half the tracks on Sugar.
"I'm still a growing songwriter. I'm still finding things out," he said. "I started to see that my favorite bands put a lot of substance in their songs in a short amount of time."
Senn's new musical philosophy is on full display on "Mob Scene" — a wild, Led Zeppelin-esque two-minute thrill ride that began on an iPhone and ended as the album's most freeform classic-rock jam — as well as the self-sung "Semi-Thought," a bit of critic-baiting that fuzzes and buzzes in the vein of Bob Mould. They're the results of a new songwriting approach Senn took for Sugar: Bring fully written and complete home-recorded demos to pre-studio practice sessions, rather than developing them through live performance. Getting those under their belts and working through Morris' ideas, the band spent two days putting together 20 songs, then spent a week laying half of them down.
"It was challenging, but learning that much new material in that short amount of time definitely left everyone with a sense of accomplishment and camaraderie," said keyboardist John Watkins.
Much of the credit goes to Agnello, who oversaw an efficient recording process (for example, bringing in a drum tech for setup and tuning, which drummer Jason Scarboro said gave him "freedom to focus on getting the sounds I wanted") and kept the band on task throughout — which, with five musicians putting brand-new material together in such a short time, could have proven difficult. "He deals with different people's personalities really well," said guitarist Walker Howle.
Not having previously toured on the songs kept them malleable and fresh, encouraging the band to explore and absorb new ideas. That tactic also furthered development of the two distinct songwriting styles in the band. Morris and Senn each penned half the album; each choosing from the others' contributions, the collection perfectly complements itself, with Morris' material remaining dark and baleful and Senn giving the group its two most upbeat songs yet: "In The Dark" and the first single "Giving It All Away," a collaboration with J Mascis that soars with energy and a little bit of a slide guitar.
"I had almost written that song for Dinosaur Jr. It's about appreciation and understanding for fellow musicians, the struggles that are the ties that bind musicians together," Senn said.
"In The Dark," on the other hand, was the answer to his mother's request to write a love song. As it took form, however, it morphed into a harmonic mix of organ and frantically loud, surging guitars, the lyrics describing a troubled relationship where love can be a frightening thing. A typically cryptic twist for Dead Confederate, the song was originally pegged to be the title track before their friends and fellow Athens rockers The Whigs adopted the name for their newest record. "I thought about starting a fake feud about it, kind of like a Dandy Warhols/Brian Jonestown Massacre thing," laughed Senn.
Fully written before Dead Confederate prepared for the studio, "In The Dark" represents how the band's long history lent itself to more complete songwriting. Having known each other since childhood in Augusta, Ga., the group capitalized on their comfort and familiarity with individual styles and abilities. Rather than build a song piecemeal through extended performance, where every musician could take it in a different direction, many of Sugar's songs were conceived as self-contained compositions —written from scratch to everyone's approval.
"It's the opposite of minimalism. The full vision came across — I just showed them. I know how to write for these guys; I've been playing with them for so long," Senn said.
For the band, that makes Sugar feel like their first true album, with Wrecking Ball as more of a collection of their early songs. That cohesion on Sugar is prevalent even when songs continue the foreboding feel of Wrecking Ball, such as Morris' wailing political lament of "By Design," and somber, ominous finale "Shocked To Realize."
"We wanted the album to be fun and creative, instead of just recording the songs," Morris said. "It's not like we decided we couldn't have anything grungy or heavy; that's just not all that we're interested in. You can listen to the record a bunch of different ways. What we were doing felt right."
The new material will certainly add an extra dimension to the already renowned live show; those well-acquainted with the band and newcomers alike have raved of the band's thunderously powerful and viscerally hypnotic stage performances. That's not going to change with Sugar, though the band expects to draw from its wider catalogue to create differing moods and atmospheres as they go.
"These songs will change up the pace of the live show," said Senn. "I like the feel of it. This record starts upbeat and gets darker and sadder. There's a control to the emotional flow."
Wrecking Ball introduced Dead Confederate as artists who had long before learned how to play together. Sugar showcases Dead Confederate as artists who have now learned how to grow together — a lesson that many bands learn too late. But Dead Confederate never thought of Wrecking Ball as a recipe for success as much as a license to explore their creativity and talents, both individually and as a group. Rising from a darkly affecting debut, Sugar is the realization of the many sides of Dead Confederate that the band is now finding ways to express.
"We have more room to breathe," Morris said. "You just have to be honest and natural about the whole thing. This is special to us, and that's where we get our gratification."
