Swell went through a great deal to make this, its fourth album after three critically acclaimed discs as indies and for (Def) American Recordings. And they learned some valuable home improvement skills along the way. The band left its San Francisco base in the fall of '94 for a massive warehouse in downtown L.A., and built an isolation room for the drums out of moldy carpet and duct tape. While in the area, they appeared in a Showtime movie by Griffin Dunne, "Duke of Groove." After occupying a real studio in Hollywood, they regrouped in San Francisco a year after leaving, finished up most of the mixes and welcomed Kurt Ralske (Ultra Vivid Scene) to produce what is now a B-side ("20,000 Years").
The band decamped with Ralske back to his Zabriskie Point Studio and the coldest New York February on record, living in the studio and building a shower while Ralske helped them re-record everything and piece it all together the old-fashioned way, on 2-inch tape, one part at a time. By April 1996 it was completed and the final master was sent on May 1 to American, where Rick Rubin took two months to listen to it - and passed. Then Beggars Banquet, their European distributor, stepped in and here you have it, 10 songs and 42 minutes of indie cool.
Fortunately, suffering makes for great art. Anomie and discomfort seethe throughout this album's anthems and love songs. The drumming is all muffled anger, bipolar guitars churn in roiling distemper, fuzzy crescendos and acoustic jangle (all three on "At Lennie's") and the overall production is thick with the cottonmouth haze of sleeping on the floor. "What I Always Wanted" is simple lyrically but deep emotionally, "Make Mine You" says "I'm happy most of the time" and the hypnotic, driving "(I Know) The Trip" is the final pinnacle of the mutation of two earlier songs of admiration. "Fuck Even Flow" is unfortunately titled right out of a deserving run at the airwaves.
The band addresses its recent and past history in "What Took So Long?" in its "Swollen" illustrated newsletter/presskit. It's packed with trivia, autobiography rendered in dry wit, a complete discography and fan mail.
During their wilderness years they were also asked to submit a song for "Showgirls" - watch the first few minutes, until "Don't Give" comes over the truck radio, then return the tape (without rewinding) immediately and rent something better, like "Kingpin."
For my money, the trails for this album were worth it - the smelly carpet, the hard floors, the maddening behavior of the bearded label honcho. Too Many Days Without Thinking succeeds despite these adversities. And this release made an instant Swell fan out of me.
