Diana
Prescott pitches me her idea for an Eltro video: "You're in a car looking
out the window watching a landscape going by, but there's nothing you can
affix your eye on exactly. There are layers of color - grey on the bottom,
maybe a little green. The image is kind of staying the same, but you're
not statically sitting there looking at the same thing. There's movement."
Though
the group's bassist/vocalist doubts the video would ever be made or that
anyone would actually want to watch it, her panoramic vision comes close
to interpreting Eltro's combination of billowy tones and simmering rhythms.
Like her storyboard suggests, the band's debut album, Information Changer
(Miner Street Recordings), is a collection of sonic snapshots from big
sky country.
The
Philly-based band began in late '95 when Prescott started talking to guitarist
Jorge Sandrini at an after-party for Headlong Dance Theater. "Jorge [pronounced
George] and I were the only people who weren't dancing," she recalls. The
two chatted about minimalism and repetition in music. Sandini had been
noodling around with experimental noise projects. Prescott was struggling
to find anyone who shared her passion for sparse arrangements.
Along
with drummer Ted Johnson, they formed Eltro, borrowing the name from an
early flanger effects unit. Their Galaxie 500-style pop songs were competent
if unremarkable. Still, it was obvious there was some sort of chemistry
happening. Not long after the band began, Sandrini and Prescott fell for
one another.
"In
the past trying to juggle a relationship and a band has been a source for
tension," jokes Sandrini. "With this situation that has pretty much been
eliminated." Though the group members have discussed the effect that the
romantic dynamic has on the band, Sandrini says the relationship hasn't
made for any Fleetwood Mac-style flare-ups.
During
1996, keyboardist Rick Henderson sat in with the trio at gigs. Though Henderson
didn't know the songs, he improvised his way through. The results were
mixed. Eventually, Henderson - who also plays in Ashtabula, Emma and City
of Horns - became a full-time member of Eltro and the quartet's sound grew
majestically. The group abandoned minimalism in favor of baroque, otherworldly
arrangements. Prescott honed her ability to write dreamy vocal lines using
just a handful of words and phrases. Lines like "Bush, brave bush" were
culled from the thoughts she dictated into a micro-cassette recorder that
is often at her side. It's no coincidence that several songs like "Storm
Cloud of the Century" and "Grand Canyon" make references to nature. Prescott
is a big fan of the outdoors and loves to work on her rooftop garden.
The
upper registers of Eltro's soundscapes are filled with the gentle washes
of texture created by Henderson with a Farfisa organ, effect pedals and
a bottom-of-the-line Casio sampler.
"Diana
and Jorge create very large paintings and I like to throw little bits of
dirt into some of their colors," says Henderson, who doesn't write any
of Eltro's songs but imbues them with distinctive hues. "I'm trying to
ruin their songs," he adds dryly. Discussing the band's formation over
brunch at the Lionfish Cafe, it's quickly apparent that if Eltro were a
sitcom, Henderson would be the wacky neighbor next door. He's always at
the ready with a one-liner. After exhausting a string of quips, he admits
an affinity for cheap music equipment - stompboxes that cost under $50
and anything made by Casio. His Casio SK-1 sampler makes any tone it captures
sound tinny and grainy. That's what Henderson loves about it. He often
samples the band as it's playing and then stretches and warps the sound
using various effects. Prescott jokes that Henderson's Farfisa organ is
little more than a pedal holder because he spends more time messing with
effect knobs than playing notes on the keyboard.
"Let
the pedals do the work," says Henderson.
The
technology bug bit Sandrini a little more recently. As the group started
laying down tracks for Information Changer in the spring of '97, he suggested
a drum machine be added to the lineup.
"I'm
interested in contemporary sounds and the possibility of incorporating
new sounds that have never been used before," says the guitarist, whose
tingling riffs outline Eltro's song structures.
But
the decision to use a drum machine was a little problematic. Drummer Ted
Johnson was a little wary at the mechanical competition at first; he was
unsure of how his role would change. Yet he adapted quickly. With the machine
laying down the beat, Johnson is freed up to react more to the other instruments
and vocals. The electronic percolations suggest undertones of ambient house
music and drum 'n' bass. Johnson's accents give the arrangements human
warmth. The drum machine's precise timing also resurrects the band's early
theories about repetition, says Sandrini.
Though
high-minded notions serve as the foundation for Eltro's sound, its arrangements
rarely seem overwrought. They make a point of leaving room for improvisation.
Several of the tracks on the seven-song album weren't finished until the
group was in the studio. The members also have a sense of humor about their
approach. In response to their music being deemed "hypnotic," the group
included a sample from a '50s hypnotist record. "Now you're thoroughly
relaxed," booms a monotone voice in the track "long.flat.red." That phrase
is a good description for most of the music on the album, which seeps into
your subconscious like subliminal messages.
Information
Changer CD