El Drifte’s First Sleigh Ride Through the Empty Chair
You can feel El Drifte's presence before he gets into the venue. The room shifts as soon as he enters with his coat and the outside cold comes in and after the door closes, the cold is gone and there is warmth again. Not a comfortable warmth, but a warmth you expect when you go into a bar after someone finally got around to heating it again because of last winter.
His beginning was not where he started; the same is true for all of the others. They started out in the basements of bars in Minneapolis, walking through a purgatory filled with bands that played in bars. Moisture from all of those punk shows has dried into the floor here for years. Then there was no destination. You can hear that energy and commitment that has been put into these songs because it goes against what most would think a person would do and keep pushing. None of them had someone guiding them. They have always gone where the road takes them. Static on the stereo at 2 a.m., the sound of neon buzzing when you stop for gas on a highway, the remains of cigarettes on the windowsill.
"Here Comes the Holidays" arrives with its cheerful smile, but its smile is a working smile. Guitars—brightly jingled—crash like the sounds of someone stepping on ice-covered sidewalks while providing just enough rhythm to shake out all of the heartbreak being held in your shoulders. In its own way, it really does sound like a radio jingle from a time gone by...but it has the same sense of wear and tear that comes from being around too long and getting rusty...and seeing so many December months in so many different towns across the country. Sure, everyone is invited, but you'll still have to make an effort to come.
And then, on the flip side, the pace slows down with "This Year (Wishing You Were Still Here)" as it doesn't tell you to cry, but allows you to feel your own tears come out on their own. The arrangement of instruments creates an emptiness where a vocal part used to be...a long, echoed note from the piano that sounds like church bells after the church doors have been locked. Do you know what I mean when a song can smell like a combination of bleach and pine needles? That's how "This Year (Wishing You Were Still Here)" feels to me...the first holiday without someone you loved; where laughter used to be.
The moment you've waited for has finally arrived. Instead of a loud explosion, El Drifte has brought an extraordinary power to deliver the new sound of the future. While nostalgia has a purpose, it will never outlast what El Drifte has brought to the table. The result of that is old forms being repurposed and put to new uses. After the last notes fade, you will be waiting for the next burst of sound. Before too long, you will be back to hear him again for sure.