Wednesday, June 8, 2022

The Jacob James



Time has a way of playing tricks when you age. Recently, it seems, Jacob Greenlaw was handing me a disc of his Musicool or portraying Jerry in Edward Albee's Zoo Story. But that was 20 years ago, or more. The Albee play was performed in North Haven's old community center and gym, back before the new Waterman's was built. And Jake's musical was recorded with Rich Entel, back when he was an itinerant island doctor, decades past.

Some things do remain constant, though, and that makes time all the more deceiving. For one, Jacob has been working consistently on his musical projects for that entire time span. He was a regular drummer with 12 Miles Out when they would play the annual Islander Market Labor Day bash. When he went off to college, Jacob came home with a new band, JFJ. After Waterman's was constructed, he founded the Toughcats along with Colin Gulley and Joe Nelson. With occasional coast to coast tours, video and recording projects, gigs at the Blue Goose, Rockland's Strand Theater and Fog, not to mention the somewhat regular Beer and Mussels Fest at the Marshall Wharf, the Toughcats became something of a Midcoast institution.

Along the way, there were several North Haven music festivals, Lung Fests, held at Mullen's Head Park. It was there, and at Waterman's, and on the ferry, and just plain "on island," where Jacob and guitarist Bill Trevaskis would have begun playing together. Most of it, I imagine, starts by simply messing around, sharing the soundboard for an island gig, or just helping each other out with cables and equipment and sharing festival ideas. Community theater and community music go hand in hand. For Maine's unbridged islands, these are often the only environments where like minds can collaborate on one-off projects for street dances or the K-12 schools.

Without drive and initiative, none of these projects would have happened. Innate talent alone doesn't matter. It takes a lot to keep the DIY fires burning. This is especially true in a world over-saturated with media where, more than ever, sending creative projects into the universe is like screaming into the void. But Jacob's music has appeal for a wide audience, and once it hooks you, there's an inimitable familiarity and continuity inside each project. So, if you have followed Jacob since high school, the Jacob James will sound familiar. It will hit the signature sounds of his patently impatient, joyful angst.

One thing that stands out on these 12 tracks is that Bill and Jacob listen to a lot of music. Like, a lot. Sometimes, the listening mind lands on evocative passages that echo genres like No Wave and hardcore, albeit with a bit more melody and Bill's practiced precision. But none of this sounds intentional. Nor are these echoes a demerit. Rather, the beauty in these songs is that they hint at genres, periods, artists, without ever being derivative. More often than not, when I find a passage familiar, and I'm racking my brain for a New Wave reference, a Toughcats song pops up. "Call My Love" or "Big Big Hole" might be banging around. This is due to the fact that these are Jacob's expressions. This, then, is a team of artists working on a signature sound.

Hearing the rising drum attack, the taught rhythms of "Is it Enough," the opening track to The Jacob James, immediately evokes that signature sound. The Trevaskis guitar licks click in like the edges on a 1000 piece puzzle. Tempos stay mostly upbeat, and yet this is not forced speed as with so much hardcore. Rather, this is a rapid pulse, signature Jacob Greenlaw. It's the pop machine song writing that honors both Sir Paul and d. boon (OK, George Hurley). It's the same yearning of a high school kid who wrote a musical about the lack of love while it's also a confident collection of someone who knows better. "Lonely Too" is the sort of song that inhabits both worlds. "
Not a Picture" captures frustration over our telecommunicative narcissism in a propulsive minute and eighteen seconds.


And how can I be hearing Bowie and Sha Na Na in "I Want You to Feel Bad"? The ears and brain have just become a jangle of broken nerves at my age, but this too is a product of all this digestion. The difference between a creative, a musician, and the rest of us plebes is that they can channel and distill. Here we find alchemical synthesis in "Don't Want to Stay." There's no point in pointing to other signs. Instead, it's the smell of late-August dew knowing that another autumn is closing in on the islands, locking one into another winter, looping, looping, looping, and "Time Moves On" as a coda, a recurring echo of what's come before.

That island tension, that seasonal tension of being anchored to beautiful rural isolation is everywhere here. How often does the "Special Thanks" section of recording include the Maine State Ferry Service? It's a special feeling when it's quiet enough to hear the 3:45 boat depart the island on a Sunday afternoon. For many, it means, "Here I'll be until next Friday, at least." Looping. Dreaming. Working. For many, procrastinating. I can paint that trim next week. Classes will work better next year. That rusted block isn't going anywhere. Leave it. There are many seductive traps of delay, and it's endless loops of spruce, and stars, and coves, and dreams.

By the time the final drum beats of "Live it Up" hit, any listener will know that this is not a writer who kicked the can down the road. Jacob Greenlaw has recorded and produced an album 20 years in the making, barrel-aged island ideas, skills honed in various projects. Bill was there to fill in the vision, to respond to the tension he was offered. And it all fits. This is a distillation, a culmination of the work that Jacob has been doing. It is a celebration of that time spent thinking those long island thoughts.

The digital version is available on Bandcamp, but I'm already waiting for the vinyl reissue and the next release.