Room Nine - Voices.....of a Summers Day (1987, C'est La Mort)

I don't think I've talked about this one yet. Over the years, from what I've observed (namely, archived show flyers from '80s Seattle gigs and other historical ephemera) Room Nine were fixtures in the Emerald City club circuit, even if they didn't bear any discernible earmarks of  the soon-to-be-trademark sound their hometown would soon be renown for.  Combos like Mother Love Bone, Soundgarden, and yes, Nirvana were all veritable startups at the time, but Room Nine operated on a less-than-parallel wavelength.

The Ron Rudzitis-helmed quartet were responsible for the lone LP I'm sharing tonight.  R/N were unlikely to have gotten any push from your typical Z-95 FM  spaces on the dial, rather I'd be willing to pony up more than a little dough that they were staples at college radio outposts, especially in/around Seattle. What few summations I've encountered on the band tend to play-up their "psych" sensibilities, yet I'm hearing barely a whiff of such likenesses. Instead, Room Nine were forward thinking, modern rock rats with a hankering for the milder strains of post-punk and indie. I'm willing to make loose comparisons to the Chameleons and the Cure at best - sans any gratuitous gloom, and most refreshingly, an absence of the attendant pretensions that accompany the scenes surrounding such ilk.

And who needs pretensions, or posturing, or heck, even the whole Batcave cosplay shtick when you have deep (just not too deep) and wholly affecting tunes, with just enough downcast mystique to keep things afloat?  Voices....of a Summers Day may not be a modern rock totem for the ages, but it houses a spate of fairly crucial tunes in the guise of "Sea Without a Shore," "1000 Years," and "Circus Floor," worthy of any mid-'80s left-of-the-dial mix tape. Michael Laton's clangy, faintly echoing guitar leads add just enough shading and sparseness to what R/N were attempting, and a tight rhythm section seals the proverbial deal with ease. The only anomaly I encountered on this disc is the uncharacteristically extroverted pop of "The Thorn," but if you ask me it's consoling to know these chaps were actually indulging in a little bit of fun amidst this record's persuasive melancholic hues.

A 1985 demo tape is the band's only other recorded legacy. The post-script for Room Nine largely begins and ends with Rod Rudzitis' future resume entry, as mouthpiece for the considerably more visible Love Battery, who after a commendable bouquet of releases on Sub Pop in the early '90s were inevitably teased by major label $$$, and didn't show much for themselves after that unfortunate career move soon petered out.  There might be other portals in the sharity blogosphere hosting R/N music, but the links below were taken from my own rip of the album.

01. Circus Floor
02. Revolving Door
03. Don't Look Back
04. Red Dog
05. 1000 Years
06. The Thorn
07. Mirage
08. Sea Without a Shore
09. White Summer

MP3  or  FLAC