Garage rock revival (literally)

Electrophonic Chronic is the second and purportedly last album (they say there are between 80 and 100 songs in the can) by Dan Auerbach’s garage-soul side project The Arcs. Maybe the title isn’t only a pun on weed and sound systems; the root of the word chronic means time, as in chronicle, and these songs were recorded with drummer Richard Swift before he passed away in 2018. Now the grief is settling and the remaining band members feel ready to celebrate Swift’s legacy by releasing this album, which sounds like a cadre of goofy musician friends hanging out and paying homage to their vinyl collections, with no pressure since they’re all in other bands. It sounds like that because that’s what it is.

The single “Keep On Dreamin’,” sets things off with a dubby slam before Swift’s overdriven drums thump in. The playful yet somewhat dejected groove is made up of cowboy horn stabs and space age chirps. Auerbach laments the irreversible loss of radio in his high croon and throws up his hands: “Nothing matters no how.” That “no how” saves the song from wallowing in its streaming-era nihilism. So does the music. Between the weeping guitar solo and the Halloween scream hook (could be coming from the not-so-grim reaper on the cover art), the expressions of sadness are too on-the-nose and strangely funny not to simultaneously be life affirming.

“Eyez” samples and layers echo on a phantom voice saying “eyes” and riffs on it in hip hop fashion. The other kitschy embellishment to grin at is the mock Hawaiian steel guitar. It’s surprising how much Auerbach’s voice can change from track to track. He sounds like a different person here, only the effect remains the same: swaggering soul singer with a heavy heart. This tune’s about someone who has everything but love and keeps the the world at a distance. Surely these generic themes were meant a little ironically when they were first conceived, but given the tragic context the album is finally emerging in, they take on a catharsis-through-pop art aura. 

So, “Heaven Is a Place” of course doesn’t actually face death. Over a martial drum roll and barking organ riff, Auerbach reaches out: “Heaven knows I need you, lady.” Somehow it’s tasteful and endearing. The chorus, on an album full of obvious and hard to resist choruses, sticks out for being R&B the way ’90s boy bands made the style theirs. The keys twinkle like stars while the guitar rips through the clouds like lighting. 

“Califone Interlude” lets The Arcs indulge their appetite for spaghetti western soundtracks by turning up the tremolo and bringing in a fiddle player who can go “Giddyup!” The anthem “River” presents a moment of lyrical originality, co-opting a spiritual trope for some veiled ecocriticism: “The river can’t even run ’round anymore / It can’t do the things for you that it did before.” “Sunshine” is their triumphant “Hey Jude” moment, with a sunshiny choir of children (or The Arcs with their voices pitched up) chanting sha la la up towards the sky. 

They cover Helene Smith’s “A Woman Will Do Wrong,” which sounded just fine in 1967 when it was recorded, seems live in the studio. Listening to the original demonstrates how closely The Arcs hew to their inspirations songwriting-wise, but also suggests how strong they would sound sans special effects (admittedly part of their pastiche appeal). The beat drag on the Smith recording—as if the narrator briefly considers apologizing but then lets the thought perish—is more organic and pronounced, a hook in its own right that the updated version lacks.

Swift’s loss isn’t the only one Chronic chronicles. The ballad, “Only One For Me” started as a collaboration between Auerbach and the indie-country songwriter and poet David Berman, who died a year after Swift. Ostensibly about taking care of oneself after a breakup, in hindsight, it’s impossible not to hear the singer staring down the rest of his life minus other important relationships. How profound for The Arc’s version of this song not to be released until it became about the passing of its songwriter and drummer. Berman released his honky-tonk-style “Maybe I’m the Only One for Me” in 2019, with telling lyrical differences: whereas Auerbach sings “I’ll have to learn to love myself,” Berman sings, “I’ll have to learn to like myself.”

Initially, the songs on Electrophonic Chronic weren’t meant to add up to anything more than eccentric, trippy, soulful fun for its own sake. But fun songs that are worth anything follow people throughout their lives and absorb their deeper experiences. The fact that this album still sounds right and has more to say after time has cast a shadow on it is testament to its integrity. Fun can be vital.