PREMIERE | Chime School, 'The Boy Who Ran the Paisley Hotel'
Ringing the tubular bells and singing it from the mountaintops - Chime School present the San Francisco sound of now; photographed by Kittie Krivacic.
Perhaps it is by some sort of cosmic cyclical force, but once in a while an era occurs where artists around the world feel almost a divine compulsion to release their own individual magnum opus. The trends point toward how the human spirit can cast a ray of light like a sunbeam shining through the prism of a diamond after enduring the extensive periods of challenges that life inevitably offers. Through the trying times, the exhausting tribulations, and the trifles of overbearing ennui; we also witness some of the most miraculous and inspired media from our most beloved luminaries. Here in the Bay Area, artists have been active in building their own magnificent works of art like sonic skyscrapers reaching for celestial palaces, new bright places, and radical new dimensions. The current wave of big releases from local artists like Al Harper, Maggie Gently, R. E. Seraphin, Silverware, Slumped, Still Ruins, and so many more signals a high tide that is raising all the boats among communities both near and far.
Welcome to The Boy Who Ran the Paisley Hotel, the much anticipated new album from Chime School. Local SF scene ambassador Andy Pastalaniec follows up the lauded 2021 self-titled with a sound and presence that is crisp and magnified to a large scale. Paisley Hotel dwells in a space where the pub circuit set makes the stylistic jump for the big top tent festival stage. Think about the time where your favorite independent idol signed with a major to create their big expensive sounding record, and that industry cliché describes only a fraction of the shimmering semiotics of the new Chime School record. Andy organizes day dream sequences into chapters of song, surfing the shifts of natural progressions with notions of human folly into a musical photo album with ineffably charged energy galore [specially designed to be enjoyed at maximum volume].
Within the infinity loops where the beginning is the end is the beginning spin like tape in the reel to reel decks on the grandiose opener titled "The End". That special 12 string sparkle begins the biggest power pop bloom heard yet from Chime School, recalling the the 80s undergrounds that championed the 70s underdogs that in turn inspired the template for much of 90s alternative guitar pop. That spirit flies forward on the revved up "Why Don't You Come Out Tonight?" romantics that enters the gallant threshold to a night on the town with heart that beats like the lionhearted rhythm of a two-cycle engine.
The thrill and absolute abandon of opening up one's heart can be heard and felt on the big single "Give Your Heart Away" that feels like an enthralling multiple destinations evening of limitless merriment. "Another Way Home" maintains the unstoppable energy of "Heart" where high flying spirits of the deeply sentimental kind take flight like the stories captured in the paperbacks displayed on the check stand racks. Pastalaniec does a darn good impersonation of Gallagher brothers style of balladry that was not heard at a mid-90s Brit Awards programme with "Words You Say".
The classic throwback counter culture attitude and aesthetic permeates "Wandering Song", where the dramas of the journey are conveyed through the most clean and neat production that highlights those crisp and neon lit chords. Andy and the 'School keep the big chiming guitars twinkling on the infectious salutations of "Say Hello" like an introspective ride on a workhorse Vespa P-200 on a sunny afternoon in the 1980s. "Desperate Days" reflects upon the countless changes experienced across the landscape of San Francisco, and the entire Bay for that matter, bemoaning the drab choices in new structures, the current corporate affinity for drab grey painted buildings, and all the old dives where friends could meet up for a pint (with reference to the former much beloved Attic on 24th Street by the BART Station), all set to rhythmic memory jogging song of nostalgic lamentation.
Andy's love of fall and winter shines through in a floral number specially designed for the solar saturated solstice with "(I Hate) the Summer Sun" as the drudgeries of the nearly inescapable working class hero grind of unlimited laboring are put to a perfect two minutes and twenty-five seconds on "Negative Monday". The concluding song of "Points of Light" takes the listener to the vanishing points of vision reminiscent of Brit pop throwbacks like Hurricane #1's "Step into My World" in one of the album’s biggest tracks. As the record draws to a close with big sweeping overtures and evocative amp stack blasted chords of ever-climbing hooks; The Boy Who Ran the Paisley Hotel is the sound of a focused artist pushing toward the big time tier of stratospheric ascending expressions with heart-bound pop poems dedicated to the movements that mean the most to us and our surrounding communities.
Bay vistas, archaic power plants, and the ecstatic aura of Chime School; photographed by Kittie Krivacic.
Andy Pastalaniec of Chime School provided a host of privy insights on the stories behind each song off of The Boy Who Ran the Paisley Hotel:
The power pop alpha and omega inceptions that inspired “The End”.
One of my favorite things about making a record is sequencing. I like to start an album with a slower song, and an all-time favorite opener of mine is “Start Again” from Teenage Fanclub’s Songs from Northern Britain. The working title for “The End” was jokingly “Start Again (Again).” When it came time for lyrics, it seemed fitting to make it about an ending instead of a beginning. “The End” was one of the first songs I recorded for Paisley Hotel; the arrangement came together so quickly and naturally and was instantly the best thing I ever recorded, so I knew I was beginning a project that was going to be a big step forward for me, sonically speaking. The build-up of the bridge with its vocal harmonies, strings and sudden break, into the guitar solo and coda, are one of my favorite moments of anything I’ve done. The guitars were very carefully layered to create the illusion of one huge guitar when it’s really an acoustic 12-string guitar (mic’d and run through an amp) as well as a traditional electric 12-string guitar, layered together playing in different octaves. This is also the only song I’ve ever recorded that features strings!
The excitement and anticipation that gave rise to the energy of “Why Don’t You Come Out Tonight?”
I had just played a show with Ducks Ltd at the Knockout in SF, and the next day their cover of “Invitation” by The Feelies hit the internet. I’m a huge Feelies fan so I checked it out. I happened to be sitting with a guitar at the time, and I stopped the song and started messing with the E to A intro; and the chords and melody to “Why Don’t You Come Out Tonight” just kind of poured out. I’m always reaching for the perfect sub-two minute pop song, and this seemed like a good time to go for that. When I was recording it, I’d just read a great interview with Mitch Easter about the making of Murmurs, and that kind of inspired the extra percussion and some of the guitar melodies in the background.
Lyrically the song is about seizing the moment, never missing something because of fear or worry of some kind of future consequence. I once passed on a chance to see The Clean play in San Francisco because I had a dumb job I had to go do the next day and I was worried I’d get fired or something. It was one of the worst decisions I’ve ever made in my entire life. Like I was 24 years old, what was I even thinking? Don’t make the same mistake I did.
The DIY pop romanticism that swept you off your feet for “Give Your Heart Away”.
“Give Your Heart Away” video still courtesy of Britta Leijonflycht.
When you’re putting hundreds of hours into a creative project like making a record, you get to a point where you’re so focused that you’re really primed for sparks of creativity. “Give Your Heart Away,” may be one of the best pop songs I’ve written, and it came together as a result of a happy accident.
I was working on something in the studio when Nick from The Umbrellas randomly texted me to share some footage he found online of Harvey Williams and Julian Henry performing “You Didn’t Love Me Then” at the Sarah Records Christmas Party in 1991– just the two of them on acoustic guitars. For some reason the chord progression grabbed me in a particular way that day and the verse and chorus of “Give Your Heart Away” came together on the spot. Very grateful to Nick for randomly texting me that day!
Photography is another medium I’ve spent a lot of time on and informs a bit of what I do musically. The song is framed by an out-of-time intro and outro; there’s a lyric about a camera lens opening to another time and place; and generally the song is meant to capture a moment in time, perhaps in one’s younger years, when one might spend a bit too much directionless time out and about in the bars at night. Not necessarily autobiographical (I’ve never had bleached hair) but I think it’s something a lot of us can relate to.
Insights on hemming the homeward bound hymn and alternative routes of “Another Way Home”.
I’m a fan of oblique melodies, for lack of a better word. Instead of strumming a chord, I might pick some notes out of one chord or another, try to build some different chord I have to figure out the name of. The bay area group Galore had just moved into our practice space and brought with them this really cool 1970s Antigua (color) Fender Strat. One day I picked it up to check it out, and the building blocks of “Another Way Home” came pouring out of it (thanks Griffin). I was a bit indebted to Felt on the riff and The Go-Betweens “Head Full of Steam” in terms of vibe, and that it’s a song about people, which they were so particularly good at. The intro chord is an homage to a particular earworm on a Field Mice song, but I don’t think anyone’s caught the reference yet.
Sentiments on the semantics that wrote “Words You Say” into being.
Some SF locals may recall there was one show where I made an appearance on drums for The Reds, Pinks & Purples. It was a bit of an emergency scenario (them without a drummer, me not wanting them to drop off the bill) but it was a blast and they asked me to join them on an upcoming tour. I was deep in the making of this album, and after much internal deliberation I had to decline the offer. Then one Saturday afternoon when I would have been on that tour, my partner was listening to The Pastels’ Illumination in the other room. Through the walls I heard the faint intro of “The Hits Hurt.” I went back downstairs and “Words You Say” came out of nowhere. So I guess it all worked out.
Lyrically the song is about an imaginary writer yearning to escape day-to-day monotony so they can focus on a creative project, while struggling to overcome the self-doubt we all endure when working to create something honest and meaningful.
Journals, journeys, dreams and “Wandering Song”.
“Wandering Song” was one of the first I wrote after finishing the first Chime School album. I’d gotten really into the East Village Hotrod Hotel reissue that Slumberland released, listening to “Strawberry Window” and “Back Between Places” over and over again. As “Wandering Song” came together I realized my subconscious was wondering what if East Village had written Teenage Fanclub’s ‘Sparky’s Dream”? I’m not claiming to have reached anywhere near those heights with “Wandering Song”, but there’s some nods to each throughout.
I probably spent an entire day searching for the right bass line to compliment all the different melodies going on—everyone thinks bass is the easiest instrument and it can be technically, but your decisions are hugely consequential. “Wandering Song” is also where I discovered the major 7 chord was responsible for that wistful, melancholy sound that always grabs me on a lot of my favorite songs, and I put it to use on the guitar melody at the end of the song.
Lyrically “Wandering Song” is pretty dark. Sometimes I feel we’re dancing into the apocalypse in a way, like trying to squeeze the last trail of sunlight from a summer day, while the planet becomes uninhabitable and the U.S. descends into bipartisan authoritarianism. “Wandering Song” is about that feeling, and how we tend to turn inwards when our only chance to survive is through collective organizing. Hopefully we don’t wait too long, as the lyric at the end goes. Party on!
Jotted down notes and salutations from the jangle and shine of “Say Hello”.
“Say Hello” was one of the first songs I ever wrote. Hugely influenced by Sonic Flower Groove era Primal Scream. I wanted it to have that huge sound so many of my favorite 80s indie records had, which seemed to benefit from there being a glut of available studios and capable engineers in the 1980s (or that’s my guess anyways). Those records sounded so pro to those of us who learned how to record on 4-tracks in our rooms and could never afford studio time. We still can’t afford studio time, but now we have computers! On the first go-around, my limitations prevented me from getting the sound I was looking for. But as I got better at recording I came back to it, and am happy to say I was finally able to nail the sound I’d been going for, which was a real triumph for me.
The drive and vessels of volition that contributed to “Desperate Days”.
I can’t go too long without writing a song about gentrification, it seems, and “Desperate Days” is about the changing face of San Francisco. There’s references to the streets of houses painted gray; my favorite long-gone dive bar, The Attic; and the Castro Theatre, which was one of my favorite places on earth — I’m not even kidding. It was recently taken over by one of those monopolizing concert promotion companies with the aid of some shitty local capitalists and politicians, the kind who pretend to care about the community but are really just committed to lining their own pockets. It’s currently being gutted and transformed from a historic movie palace into yet another mid-sized concert venue for private corporate events and overpriced shows. I’ll never forget the feeling of heading to the Castro with friends or (especially) alone, with a brown bag of Anchor Steam and a slice of pizza, some of my most cherished memories of San Francisco. Musically I was really into The Tubs’ 2023 full-length when I was recording it, and also aiming for the loud/quiet verse/chorus of one of my favorite Field Mice songs.
Album cover art for The Boy Who Ran the Paisley Hotel courtesy of Brighton, UK artist Sally Welchman.
The solar contempt, ennui and frustrations behind “(I Hate) the Summer Sun”.
Although a bit exaggerated, generally I love cold weather. Maybe it’s because I grew up in San Diego and badly wanted to leave; or cosmically, because I was born in September–the end of Summer. Either way, while everyone’s trying to soak up the last bit of the summertime, I’m always happy when the sun sinks low in the sky and it starts to get cold. Fall and winter are my time.
Waiting for that proverbial “Gentle Tuesday” and the manic beginnings of the week and more that contributed to “Negative Monday”.
“Negative Monday” is the only song on the record that was co-written. My friend Mike Ramos (Tony Jay, Flowertown, Cindy) and I used to work together at this job where we’d work these 21-day marathons once or twice a year at an old warehouse on the San Francisco waterfront. We’d have these marathon shifts where it was loud, and incredibly hectic, and then freezing and quiet for hours. Naturally we’d start to go a bit crazy by the end. We would joke about it being “Negative Monday” every day because there were however many days to go before there were even five days left before a day off, and how that would be a funny song. He put together the chords and words and sent me a voice memo, I worked it a bit, came up with an arrangement, and recorded it. I was going for a 60s folk-pop thing, another huge influence, both the UK and “Ye-Ye” varieties. I couldn’t help but include a little homage to a song off one of my favorite Bob Stanley compilations of 1960s UK folk-pop girl groups. I’m curious if anyone can spot the reference.
Powder blue The Boy Who Ran the Paisley Hotel vinyl; artwork courtesy of Sally Welchman.
The Brit-pop fascinations, fanaticism, frenzies and carnivals of light that informed the closer “Points of Light”.
“Points of Light” was the last song I recorded for Paisley Hotel, and it was deliberately recorded as an ender. I wrote the skeleton in early 2020, but never quite figured out what kind of song it was. When I dug it out for Paisley Hotel, I knew I wanted to slow it down and make it a bit more dramatic. I went through countless influences looking for inspiration before landing on a palette on the spacier end of Field Mice/Northern Picture Library, with a nod to “Is This Music” from Teenage Fanclub’s Bandwagoneque, one of the all-time great album enders.
I rarely have specific arrangements or instrumental interludes planned ahead of recording, it’s usually like solo here or intro here, and a lot of the creativity comes during the recording process. I recall really pushing myself to compose the distorted, harmonizing guitar solos and acoustic interlude on “Points of Light,” striving for the perfect crescendo to conclude the record and the extremely cathartic feeling when I finally nailed it!
I’m always charging headlong into my own limitations (as humble as they are) in terms of recording and arranging music, which is one of the reasons I tend to work alone as there’s less pressure and a lot more freedom to experiment and push myself. Although The Boy Who Ran The Paisley Hotel came together a lot easier and faster than the first record, I feel like making records shouldn’t really be easy. One way or another, I want to push myself to improve with each one, and so each record claims its pound of flesh, in a way.
Chime School’s The Boy Who Ran the Paisley Hotel will be available August 23 via Slumberland.