Almost every night, some Bound Stems get together… Read Full Bio ↴Ye olde Press Bio:
Almost every night, some Bound Stems get together for something or other. A lot of times it's for practice, but sometimes it's for a barbecue, with a lot of friendly friends around. A lot of times it's at the studio, and songs are underway. Sounds unspooling in the background: El train, northwest bound; cicadas; a stick gnawed by a puppy; now a chorus of cicadas; sidewalk conversations; giant whirring air conditioning stacks; airplanes approaching O'Hare; fat car tires, and the polite beep of a car in the mouth of an alley.
Bound Stems started making music together in late 2002, but they were already up in each other's business. Bobby Gallivan (guitar, vocals, lyrics), Dan Radzicki (bass, keys, vocals) and Dan Fleury (guitar) played basketball on the same team in high school. When they met Evan Sult (drums, tapes), they'd been playing together for a long while. He'd been in Harvey Danger (London/Sire, Polygram) in Seattle, but just moved to Chicago.
Three years later, they present their EP, The Logic of Building the Body Plan (Flameshovel Records). It was a lot of work in seclusion, really: a practice space and a studio and back and forth for six months, pretty much every day. That's what made their album, Appreciation Night, such a complex, beautiful composition, full of tricky time signatures and memorable lines. Bound Stems released Appreciation Night in September 2006: to celebrate in advance, they made an EP, The Logic of Building the Body Plan, which features seven tracks, including two from their debut record; three new songs; and two song compositions created by Bound Stems and co-producer Tim Sandusky, with whom they recorded both releases at Chicago's Studio Ballistico.
Bobby's a high school history teacher. Fleury's a financial whiz kid. Radz is a lab scientist, no shit. Evan's an art director at a comic book publisher. Czech that out. Another voice on the EP is Kate Gross, who graced both the studio and the stage with Bound Stems for a while. Newest member Janie Porche sings harmony and plays an SP606, an acoustic guitar, a keyboard or two and an electric named Sweet Tones. The Logic of Building the Body Plan is an intricately arranged 26 minutes of pop music founded on secretly complicated rhythmic structures. Male vocals and female harmonies build narratives off scenes summoned by the instruments and by a library of stolen sounds that emigrated to their songs: grandmas, crafty cabbies, trains, party laughter, turnstiles, storytellers, and a field's worth of crickets. It's approachable music; it sounds like they knocked themselves out, which they did, and it also sounds like a pleasure to dive headfirst into.
Andover
Bound Stems Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
Bless this earth, my soul, the universe! It's often big enough to leave me out. Paid the rent, now we've been canonized: it takes a different man to stand upright.
Try to get something so simple now--I talk plain all the time, and it burns me out. Finished with a sense of dignity, my memory is just in time to bail me out. I was born into a dream: she woke me at dawn, now my suitcase is gone. Morning symphony, my neighbor cried, "The neighborhood's all used up!" (We kicked them out.)
Next we blush and turn away: we never learn. It's the little boy, we know he hurts the worst. He's the artist: try to solve it, break your word. Oh, you'll know it'll--of course you know it hurts...
Take from me the very best you can; we have. And it seems that your life evokes words... I spring up from my desk, I pace up and down. I'm waiting.
(She never counts the footfalls 'til she sleeps. She never wakes.) I count my words carefully, the type is just off. (She never wakes.) I get by, but fumble with it. Still, she prays for my well-being, and also for this great nation.
Play our songs and never grow up!
The lyrics of Bound Stems' song "Andover" convey a sense of longing and disconnection from the world around them. The first verse describes the singer walking home through the early streets, observing school kids and their families, and noting that their mothers are always running late. The second verse transitions to a more philosophical tone, with the singer expressing gratitude for the universe and lamenting feeling left out. They mention paying rent and being "canonized," which could be read as feeling subservient or oppressed by the pressures of capitalism or the dominant culture. The third verse seems to address the struggle of communicating plainly and maintaining dignity, with the lines "I talk plain all the time, and it burns me out" and "my memory is just in time to bail me out." The fourth verse brings in the motif of dreams, with the singer describing being woken up by a dream before their suitcase disappears and the neighborhood is "used up." The last few lines seem to suggest a call to action and rebellion, with the repetition of "it's our fault" and the plea to "play our songs and never grow up!"
Overall, the lyrics of "Andover" are complex and open to interpretation. They touch on themes of alienation, gratitude, struggle, and rebellion, and are filled with vivid imagery and poetic language. The song invites listeners to reflect on their own experiences of feeling disconnected from the world and to consider the possibility of finding connection through creative expression and community.
Line by Line Meaning
Walk home through the early streets: arrive to my home, it's not far off now. Schoolkids with their families, and like hell their mothers tried to be on time...
I am walking through the early streets on my way home, which is nearby. I observe schoolchildren with their families, noticing how their mothers struggled to be punctual.
Bless this earth, my soul, the universe! It's often big enough to leave me out. Paid the rent, now we've been canonized: it takes a different man to stand upright.
I express gratitude for the vastness of the earth and universe, but feel small and excluded at times. Having paid rent, I feel accomplished and recognized for my ability to persevere.
Try to get something so simple now--I talk plain all the time, and it burns me out. Finished with a sense of dignity, my memory is just in time to bail me out. I was born into a dream: she woke me at dawn, now my suitcase is gone. Morning symphony, my neighbor cried, "The neighborhood's all used up!" (We kicked them out.)
I struggle to obtain even the simplest things despite my straightforward communication style. Despite this, I am able to maintain my dignity and recall important details when necessary. A woman awakened me from a dream at dawn and my suitcase is missing. My neighbor lamented that the neighborhood has deteriorated, and I acknowledge having played a part in this.
Next we blush and turn away: we never learn. It's the little boy, we know he hurts the worst. He's the artist: try to solve it, break your word. Oh, you'll know it'll--of course you know it hurts...
We often feel embarrassed and avoid acknowledging situations we should learn from. We recognize that the little boy suffers the most, and he is also the one with the most artistic potential. In trying to help him, we may have to break our promises, and we know it will be difficult and painful.
We're headstrong. It's our fault, it's our fault: it's our fault. Take my side! I swear it's good enough, it's so we both remember! Waste my time, I folded, she gave up--just so we both remember.
We are determined and at fault for our circumstances. Despite this, I request support and promise that it will be beneficial for both of us to remember this experience. I wasted my time, but she gave up, and we both acknowledge it.
Take from me the very best you can; we have. And it seems that your life evokes words... I spring up from my desk, I pace up and down. I'm waiting.
We have given our best effort, and it appears that our lives inspire language. Restless and anticipating, I stand up and pace around my desk.
(She never counts the footfalls 'til she sleeps. She never wakes.) I count my words carefully, the type is just off. (She never wakes.) I get by, but fumble with it. Still, she prays for my well-being, and also for this great nation.
A woman never counts her steps until she falls asleep, suggesting she is perpetually active. Meanwhile, I scrutinize my writing and struggle with the typesetting. Despite this, she prays for my health and for the country.
Play our songs and never grow up!
We want our music to be played and enjoyed indefinitely, without succumbing to the monotony and disillusionment of adulthood.
Contributed by Jordan L. Suggest a correction in the comments below.