Beat Happening :: You Turn Me On
Cover Art: Heather Lewis
Before the sonic stranglehold of Nirvana, and everything essential to the growing, existential expansion of the Olympia, WA scene of the mid to late 1980s and 1990s, there were powerful pop groups drenched in critical cinema and eager emotion, still exploring the ecosystem they so eagerly had established in the previous years. While there is no argument about the later influence of the grunge movement, it must be crystal clear that the sophisticated settlers within the creative community were not only lyrical leaders in indie rock but also poetic pioneers for everything and anything that would soon follow. Having met while attending the infamous hallways of Evergreen State College in Olympia, members Calvin Johnson (founder of K Records), Heather Lewis, and Bret Lunsford (founder of Knw-Yr-Own Records) connected as most folks do during the serious sift of figuring out what everyone around you is all about. With punk and the critical communities of DIY culture taking over across America, it was only a matter of time before something so stable and saintly like Beat Happening came along and pulled the rug out from everyone. First forming in 1982, the group immediately began rehearsing and recording, wasting no time as they traveled to Japan for their first ‘official’ tour, where they recorded the five-song EP “Three Tea Breakfast,” before their 1985 self-titled debut shot the band directly into the stratosphere of sonic success, and cultural consciousness.
“On the first day of a tour across the country, we stopped at Tombstone Music in Clackamas, Oregon. Fred Cole assisted Bret to acquire a guitar amplifier he had his eye upon. Heather was much taken by the Fender Coronado 12-string electric guitar. It was purchased, and this led to our ‘two-guitar’ approach. You Turn Me On is the result.”
Bridging that daunting, if not impossible, gap between pop and punk at the time, the band, realising after a small stint touring with Fugazi, that there was something magical and meditative about being part of the subculture, while also inhabiting the individualism of being more artist than anarchic. Truly coming into their own with 1988’s monumental classic “Jamboree,” it wasn’t until the band’s last album, “You Turn Me On,” that something truly metaphysical, and wonderfully romantic, began to take shape within the group’s creative core. Produced by the great Stuart Moxham of Young Marble Giants, an obvious influence on the band, and Pell Mell member Steve Fisk, the album immediately reflects a massive turning point, not just within the band, but music in general, as production began to find its way into the visceral veins of DIY culture, spreading like a dynamic dopamine hit of extraordinaire proportions. With members Lewis and Johnson writing lovely lyrics for each other through the feverish flames of reverberating romance, songs such as “Sleepy Head” and “Hey Day” begin to take on this sensuality from a scene straight out of Adam and Eve, and an artistic anthem to all things forbidden and forgotten. Practicing different methods than previous releases, Beat Happening eagerly entered the madness of multitrack recording by extending the length of songs such as their melodic manifesto and all-time fan favorite “Godsend.” A ten-minute testament to the tonality of the times and the creature comforts of one’s place in the cryptic craziness of the world, “You Turn Me On” channels the essence of the wandering human spirit across its openly atmospheric attitude, where dual guitars are king, and the vibe is volume.
While contemporary giants such as Soundgarden, Mudhoney, Nirvana, Alice In Chains, and several other Washington-based groups took the stage, and became larger than life, Beat Happening, after what seemed like a completely new, and fundamentally fresh direction for the band, unofficially ‘broke up’ shortly after the album was released in 1992. “You Turn Me On” doesn’t feel like the end, nor hint at some harmonious hiatus of indefinite proportions, but instead suggests a brand new chapter in the band’s liberating legacy to fight cultural crime with sophisticated style. I suppose if you leave a key under the doormat, or a window slightly cracked, the beat of the breeze could then come and go as it pleases, without throwing off the general function of the house, maybe, just maybe, there’s always a chance of cosmic capabilities to change the course of the ship of songs to sail the singing seas once again.
