The recent surge in singer-songwriters has given pop music the certain level of respect it once had, before losing it to over-sensationalized choreography and flashy outfits for teens. Like a blue-print on an architect table, the acoustic rhythms and lyrical sincerity of the genre are free from the technical excesses and over-produced work some more elaborate pop-rock stars inevitably succumb to. Bubble-gum pop is out, for the time being, and while it’s still simple in structure, this reflective style, going back to the roots of songwriting, has resurrected an industry plagued with turmoil and profit-loss with a little touch of integrity. And now, as The Incredible Moses Leroy is beginning to prove, it seems that with all of our technological advances and diverse influences, the category no longer must be synonymous with a solo mic and acoustic guitar, but free to embrace all of our creative contemporary outlets.
Despite initial notions, The Incredible Moses Leroy isn’t actually some singer with a big ego, but rather the marvel moniker given to a San Diego based band created by Ron Fountenberry. A songwriter for over a decade, Fountenberry formed his newest incarnation just a few years ago, and entitled the group in respect to his great-grandfather, a union leader and civil rights activist, before tacking on an adjective as a nod to his childhood passion for comic books. The alter-ego of sorts was born, and the critically acclaimed Electric Pocket Radio was released shortly thereafter in 2001. Well received by many, yet dismissed by the writer himself, Fountenberry is about to release his highly anticipated follow-up, Become The Soft.Lightes this fall.
“With this new record, I was given the opportunity to let go of some of the expectations that were on the first record that really hindered us” he explains from his home in Southern California. “On the first record, we were instructed as to which songs to do, ‘cause prior to signing a record deal, I had released an album on my own and it had eighteen songs on it, and basically I was told that I had to have a certain number of those songs on the record,” he notes, before making an analogy reflective of his sci-fi passions. “[It was] like George Lucas sitting down to write a brand new movie that has nothing to do with Star Wars, nothing to do with Indiana Jones, and someone’s like, ‘actually, no, you have to have Luke Skywalker in it, you have to have Bobafet, and you have to have Indiana Jones,’ and it’s like, what kind of movie is that? And that’s kind of how that first record turned out. But with this new one I got the chance to clean the slate, and make something that would maybe, stand up a little bit better.”
But standing up on sunny lyrics and dreamy, simple pop rhythms isn’t always an easy thing to do. “Well, simple is defined differently by every person…I guess it’s just a matter of taste” Fountenberry replies, but draws a definite distinction between fluff and substance. “For whatever reason, [bubble-gum pop] is not something I’m drawn to, so it’s kind of instinctual that I’m going to do something more along the lines of things that I tend to like.” And what he likes are heavy beats that counteract his love-tinged words. “Over the last few years, I’ve really discovered the power of breaks and beats, and realized you can have a song, and take that out from underneath, and put something else in, in terms of a beat or whatever, and though it doesn’t actually change the melody, in a weird way, it almost does. So that’s something I’m very serious about” he explains. “I don’t always necessarily know what I want, but I definitely know what I don’t want. And those are the things that can definitely, completely change the whole vibe of a song. So I try to keep those beats together, and I let the lyrics go wherever they want to go.”
When your songs appear to remain on the emotional surface, revolving around love and simple pleasures, lacking an apparent inner-turmoil, it can often be depicted as fear of self-disclosure, though Fountenberry points out his use of metaphoric elements are often indicative of personal confession. “I’ll just let go of trying to make sense” he laughs, “and although it’s super simple, that approach, to me, is a little more complex. ‘Cause there are a lot of things I’m saying that aren’t easily defined. You have to kind of look between the lines. Like on a song like “Fuzzy,” on our last album, there’s kind of like a child rhyme, where I’m saying, ‘lets paint the town red like Carrie,’ and ‘you’re so soft and fuzzy,’ and a lot of people thought that song was me being silly, but really, that was my angry song.”
Produced by Joey Waronker, known for his work with REM, Beck, Smashing Pumpkins, The Vines and Badly Drawn Boy, and joined by Kristian Dunn (bass, lap steel) and Eric Hinojosa (keys), Become The Soft.Lightes is a warm and fluid piece that holds true to Fountenberry’s singer-songwriter talents, but incorporates studio complexities for an ironically intricate twist on traditionally simple lines. “There’s a lot of sparseness on this record, and it is basic,” he admits, “but I think that’s why people can visualize with it, cause you’re not overwhelmed with so many things…you’re kind of able to digest it.”
But he isn’t overwhelmed with the ominous abilities provided by digital medium, limiting himself to electonica art-pop, but rather opening the creative doors to any possible direction. “We have no fear” he add confidently. “If I wrote a really folky song, I don’t feel like [we couldn’t record it straight]. And maybe that’s part of being a mixture of so many things, but I’m not just gonna be one thing. Just let it go where it wants to go, and if you reach a point where it’s too much, you can always take stuff off. But just to have all those [studio tools] at your disposal, and all the technology, it’s amazing the stuff that’s happening with computers,” and concluding in a humble laugh, “I’m a total geek about that stuff.”
Comparisons run rampant when attempting to define The Incredible Moses Leroy sound, and with the retro-80s comeback infiltrating every genre, it’s an easy stamp here as well. And Fountenberry is the first to admit his admiration for the decade of hair bands and skinny ties, but points out validity more than kitschy memories. “[Some of those artists were] just a lot more talented than a lot of stuff that’s out there right now. Their harmonies, their melodies, and yeah, there’s some shtick in it, but anything that can wean it’s way onto radio and become a pop hit has to.” Yet parallels with Fountenberry’s writing style aren’t just lumped in with anybody, as he has repeatedly been referred to as a Brian Wilson caliber songwriter, though he denies the similarities.
“People say that, but it wasn’t an influence. There’s a lot of things that people have said, like there’s a song on the last album called “1983,” and they say it sounds like New Order, but I didn’t listen to that growing up. Maybe later on, but certainly not in my formative years.” So what did he take with him? “I just remember like, Men At Work, and a little bit of Blondie thrown in there, as well as like Devo and “Whip It,” but things like New Order, a lot of the cool stuff, I didn’t know. I’m just really becoming familiar with it now. And I love it, but we didn’t know it back then. I think [what I took from some 80s music was the] structure…I just remember the chords, I was like ‘wow.’ Their chords were just so big, and that’s how I look at songwriting, for some hook. Those songs in the 80s, like (sings) ‘Who can it be now…,’ they just repeat the chorus, and repeat it. I guess they still do that now, but it doesn’t feel as real.”
Moby may not be respected by everyone in the music world, but his pioneering of the licensing revenue side to publishing is an entirely new pathway for songwriters. One that with just a brief listen to this new record would seem a perfect route to pursue rather than pushing it to radio. New media has attached itself to music, and vice-versa, building credibility to alternative commercial successes. Retailers like Macintosh and Volkswagen sign artists early on, using songs as product enhancements before they are recycled on mainstream radio. When asked about his level of interest if such companies would come a knockin’, he quickly answers with a slightly truthful laugh, “I wish they would! I mean, I think about that stuff when I’m writing songs, I see movies in my head that don’t exist. Like “Country Robot,” on the new album, I can see like, someone driving in a sad desperation to get somewhere and there’s rain and this sad song, and it’s a crucial part of the movie. I don’t think of it like, ‘I want to sell this to someone,’ but it’s definitely part of creating this whole visual thing in my mind. And it helps me while I’m writing it. And I think that the potential is there, but the people that make the product have to hear that in the song as well.”
And if this is in fact indicative of the next generation of singer-songwriters, one that no one seems to know where to place in the record store racks, then the majorly complex question remains. How do you market a pop record, without deeming it plastic, yet giving it commercial avenues, while insuring it’s integrity, and exposing it to diverse listening circles without overkill? Fountenberry, answering it as simply as his beats and lyrics, just wants the music to build it’s own identity and let the listener decide. And actually, he isn’t even certain where he should be in relation to genre placement either, though he sees that as a strength, not a weakness.
“I don’t know where we fall. That’s the weirdest thing about us. ‘Cause I can’t think of too many bands that sound like us. That have the makeup of a band that we do, that aren’t completely trying to bite someone else’s style, and throw it out there to the masses. And yet, we’re pretty much unilaterally ignored. And I don’t think that’s [indicative of lacking a signature sound], we have a focus and we know what we want to do. In general, that means to make beautiful, sublime music. And I think [being un-categorized is] a good thing. I would think people would gravitate towards that. So from my point of view, I’m just a singer-songwriter guy, and once I go beyond guitar and enter into the studio, with the opportunity to put so many things on there, how could you not?”
Regardless of labeling, the record is simple – simple in style, simple in lyric, simple in mood, and simply a great record. Nothing more, nothing less. And the Incredible Moses Leroy, or the incredible Ron Fountenberry, depending on how you look at it, is happy with his album being just that. “There are certain things that you want to be a part of in the world, and there are things we can’t escape. You’re gonna have to get in a car, or the subway, or whatever, you’re probably gonna have to do your own laundry, you’re probably gonna have to throw down a few bucks [for] food, but that’s what the record is about….it’s about doing your laundry” he says with a slight laugh, before developing a more serious tone.
“That’s really what it’s about. It’s these mundane things. Sometimes, when I’m sitting in traffic, or I’m at the Laundromat, I have all this time to think, and I’ll have these profound, well, what I think is profound thoughts, and I think about how there can really be some beauty in the most mundane things. And this record is supposed to be kind of the soundtrack to those things. Sometimes people go into [a CD] wanting to have their heads blown, but this is supposed to be the background to whatever it is that you’re doing.”
“And if in the moment you catch certain things, and really focus in on it, hopefully it will be worthy of that, but it’s really meant to be a backdrop to everything else that’s going on.”
