King of Prussia, Day Joy

King of Prussia

Day Joy

Colorsphere, Kerry Hayes

Mon, March 25, 2013

8:00 pm

Will's Pub

Orlando, FL

$5.00

This event is 18 and over

King of Prussia
King of Prussia
King of Prussia
Transmissions from The Grand Strand

On the 10+ hour drive from Sea Note Studios in Myrtle Beach, S.C. to his home in Clearwater, Fla., something dawned upon Brandon "Burly" Taj Hanick (besides the actual dawn, which was about to have been seen twice in as many days). Nine of the 11 songs on Transmissions from the Grand Strand feature the word "love" in the lyrics, the song title, or both.

"What have I done?!?" asked Burly, excitedly. "I've written a…a 'love album!'" he replied to himself, using his inside voice. True--Transmissions is an album primarily about love, but one wouldn't necessarily call these songs "love songs"—unless one thought that every song and everything is somehow connected to love. But that's a bit too hippie, wouldn't you say?

I mean, some of the songs are sad as hell and some view the world through a psychedelic lens that, at times, rouses paranoia. The songs are darkly colored by spirit voices stirring in haunted bedrooms; the one you can't have starring in all of your dreams; premonitions that things in general are coming to a close. But the sadness never allows itself to become bitter…nor too sweet. And the paranoia never devolves into dementia. Rather, they look to the sky and at the bright side of the sun and accept the potential consequences of such a daring act. They watch birds (and planes). They go to the races and put pedals on the tracks.

The recording process for these 11 tracks was one that would break the average (white) band up. Instead, making the record actually formed the band. You see, the Sea Note Sessions were anything but average. For starters, the members were scattered about the globe. Tucker and Nathan called Myrtle home, but Brian still lived in Athens, Ga. (the band's original home base), and Burly had moved from Athens to Barcelona, Spain more than a year earlier. Hans, who hadn't been on U.S. soil in two years, was rumored to be living in South Korea. To prove it, he brought along a pack of fish-flavored cheese to share with the others. The stars aligned, schedules coincided, and flights and rental cars were booked. The whole crew was able to make it. All members had been closely connected by friendship and various musical projects for years (See: The Drag, The Envelopes, Beijing, Grace Cathedral Park, Fabulous Bird, etc.), but Transmissions from The Grand Strand marks the first time that this particular permutation had put it down together.

In the studio, there was time for making music and each other laugh, but that was it. Sleep was taken for short spurts, if at all--usually on the studio floor with heads next to kick drums and feet tangled up in headphone cables. They sweated. They stunk. They made a great record. They didn't eat much. They were hungry. Tracking initially took up 16 hours per day, but by the end of the short session, the members were recording in shifts so as to make use of all 24 hours each day had to offer.

And their hard work did not go unrewarded. All their wishes were granted in short order. When they wanted a slide guitar part, Shane emerged, slide guitar in hand. When they asked for a suitable bass guitar, a stand-up bass appeared in the corner of the studio. It's still not clear to whom the bass belongs. While locked in the studio late one night, Brian began to fiend for one last cig before going to sleep. All he needed was some way to light it. An old pack with one remaining match turned up underneath a stack of papers. When Hans' presence for the session was predicated on being able to get a ride to see his mother in Atlanta afterwards, two friends announced that they were headed to Athens within days. Close enough.

And so it was with this chapter of the King of Prussia story. The heavens were in alignment and no setback was really a setback at all. They played the songs the way were meant to be played, brilliant parts were later added by other great friends on both sides of the Atlantic, and Jesse Mangum of The Glow Studios then mixed them the way they were meant to be mixed.

A close, wise friend (the one who really brought all the boys together) once made clear what it's all about:

"What is a band, but a group of people?" he asked rhetorically. "And what does a group of people do? Whatever the fuck they want to do."
Day Joy
Day Joy
Day Joy is Dream Folk from the lovely land of Orlando FL.
Colorsphere
Colorsphere
Venue Information:
Will's Pub
1042 N. Mills Avenue
Orlando, FL, 32803
http://www.myspace.com/willspub