'Will we be alright?'

The record begins with a quick drum roll. Then the whole band kicks in with an upbeat melody. The drums chug along at a steady beat while a bouncy bassline takes charge. Acoustic guitars, a xylophone and keys then brightly fill up the soundscape. It’s as if you’re pulling back curtains to let sunlight dance into your home. Bears was a duo, consisting of two Cleveland musicians, Craig Ramsey and Charlie McArthur, and their 2006 self-titled album is relentless in its offering of shimmery indie pop. At times, you can hear the influence of The Byrds emerging in the songwriting. A light touch of psychedelic rock mingles with 1960s pop throughout the album. The production sounds both massive and intimate, which initially gave me the impression that the duo spent weeks in a top-notch recording studio. According to the liner notes, Bears was “recorded between July 2005 and March 2006 at Craig’s house.” Shoutout to Craig’s house for good acoustics and cozy magic, resulting in a self-released, self-produced modern album that sounds timeless.  

This year I’ve been sorting through my music collection and listening to records I’ve neglected for years, including this little-known gem from the Midwest. It’s funny how these things happen. I vaguely remember reading some hype about this group on a blog or music forum, circa 2008, then ordering the LP from the band’s Myspace page. For nearly 20 years, I’ve hauled this record around with me through various moves, and somehow I’ve held off on hearing it. Now and then, when organizing my collection, the record would catch my eye with its screen-printed album artwork featuring a woman smiling with eyes closed, while seated on a couch beside a miniature whale. I’d hold the record and remind myself to give it a chance one day.

In hindsight, I can reframe all those years of procrastination on Bears as waiting for the right moment. That would be a lie, though. If I were waiting for “the right moment” to hear this lovely mess of jangle pop, it certainly wouldn’t be in a time of explicit authoritarianism and imperialism. Whatever sky-blue brightness the Bears LP evokes soon becomes clouded by the bombs and concentration camps of our despairing reality. 

I usually find solace in rock music containing loud, distorted guitars and rumbling bass, all channeling rage through amplifiers. All of that is nearly absent on Bears’ self-titled album. Yet there are moments where the xylophone and heavy drum cymbals wash over everything, creating a mesmerizing wall of sound that is just as soothing as something off a shoegaze-rock album. The song “Still Alright” is a good example of that gentle noise. The lyrics contemplate the end of a relationship, with statements turning into questions, such as, “I will be alright/ Are you still alright?/ Will we be alright?” All the while, the nimble instruments grow louder, letting dejected ache and uncertainty take over.

“Daydreams” is the next track and it’s possibly my favorite out of the 13 songs here. The acoustic guitar has a bigger presence with its percussive strumming, and then halfway in, you hear what a daydream sounds like with twinkling keys, rumbling drums and cymbal crashes floating through the speakers.

I have my doubts about destiny. With that said, music can persuade me to believe in mercy that goes like this: I’ve made it through another year despite myself, and now here are songs that make me want to live a little longer. 

The album ends with a psychedelic rock song titled “Stay.” Distortion is more pronounced on the electric guitars, and the bass is boldly present. Near the end of “Stay,” the group moves into a jam session: solos liberate themselves left and right as the music fades. For a moment, I get romantic. I think about the infinite loop implied in a music fadeout. In the quiet space, I start thinking about a world where the song never ends, and all the injustices happening outside have come undone. Then, a few seconds later, the music returns: the band keeps jamming like they never left and I’m not mad about this clever subversion.

Instead, there’s a smile on my face because now I have the best of both worlds – I relished in the fadeout, I started to believe again in something beautiful, and the band returned because this jam session deserves a good ending, I understand that desire. It’s all more frantic now on this deceptive encore, they go a bit longer before falling apart. After nearly a minute, it’s over for real this time. Now I must face the broken world again. But here are these beautiful sounds that I sometimes stumble across, and my heart will never surrender them.