The American Analog Set: New Drifters

With their impeccable record collections and obscurantists’ instincts, the American Analog Set embody the best of ’90s indie. Despite this, they were never as well-known, outside of indie circles, as many of their peers. New Drifters, the lavish and comprehensive box set from master archivists Numero Group, sets the record straight, bringing together most of the band’s iconic ’90s output into one obsessively listenable package. It also helps to recontextualize the Austin-based quartet, showing AmAnSet to be an excellent slowcore and post-rock band, deserving of mention alongside bands like Codeine, Karate and Stereolab.

Spread out over five LPs, New Drifters compiles the first three American Analog Set albums across the first three records and then rounds out the package with two additional albums of demos, B-sides and outtakes from that period. Listening through from front to back not only serves as a timelapse snapshot of the band’s formative years but also the evolution of both indie music and post-rock at a time when both were becoming increasingly mainstream.

The Fun of Watching Fireworks ‒ the band’s debut, which also opens the collection ‒ is AmAnSet at their slowest, most subtle and uncompromising. Beginning with the glistening organ drone of “Diana Slowburner II,” which is also the A-side to their first single, sounds like Spacemen 3 at their tranciest and most minimal before settling into a luxurious crawl. “On My Way” sounds like “96 Tears” slowed down to 12 BPM and then layered with a boogie guitar line and a vocal out of Jesus Christ Superstar. “Gone to Earth” disrupts any narrative momentum it might have for a solid 30 seconds of a single-note organ drone. Despite its hushed atmospheres and longform, drawn-out structures, The Fun of Watching Fireworks never gets dreary or depressing. Instead, it’s like waking up out of a deep sleep to the sound of sunny ’60s pop. It’s just as joyous, life-affirming and fun as it is druggy and deeply disorienting.

The American Analog Set’s signature sound begins to swim into focus during the final stretch of The Fun of Watching Fireworks. “Trespassers in the Sky” speeds things up a little bit, with the throbbing, two-note Young Marble Giants bassline and a motorik beak like a Streamline Moderne Cadillac that would become their template and signature sound for the next several decades. That sound gets polished and perfected on their second LP, From Our Living Room to Yours.

From its first moments, the band shakes off the druggy haze of their debut for a brighter and more immediate sound. “Magnificent Seventies” is a perfect indie pop song, with its slinky guitar line, breezy breakbeats and euphoric “Baa-Baa-Baas.” It sounds poppy, even though it’s almost nine minutes long, revealing the alchemy of infectious melodicism and hypnotic repetition that make the American Analog Set one of the better indie bands. It sets the bar high, but the rest of the record still rises to the challenge, delivering banger and (understated) banger as the band explore the furthest limits of two-note organ drones, throbbing basslines and understated vocals. “Using the Hope Diamond as a Doorstop” could be an early Yo La Tengo outtake while “Blue Chaise” is so slow and spacious they make Low sound hyperactive. “Two Way Diamond I” and “Two Way Diamond II” are like Galaxie 500 taking on the Velvet Underground. Most of the more song-based material lies towards the beginning of the album, with the remaining two-thirds coming off as more of a jam, but that just makes the remainder that much headier. From Our Living Room to Yours should come as a welcome respite if you’ve already burned through your copy of Spacemen 3’s Taking Drugs to Make Music to Take Drugs To.

The final full album, 1999’s The Golden Band, finds the American Analog Set orbiting closer to their peers, recalling everyone from Tristeza to Bedhead with the emphasis on Fender Rhodes and lazy breakbeats. Incredibly, the band prove themselves to be just as strong of songwriters as they are mood architects. They don’t need waves of distortion or 10-minute songs, as Andrew Kenny’s warm, mesmerizing vocals backed by a Brian Wilson-like understanding of crafting accessible melodies is just as enticing as their earlier, druggier fare. The Golden Band may be the American Analog Set’s most accessible work, but it’s still every bit as essential as their first two records, especially if you value a hummable melody.

New Drifters closes out with two full discs of ephemera from 1995 to 1999. You get to hear the band’s very first 7″, the Diana Slowburner single from 1996, which manages to sound even more tranquil and hypnotic than The Fun of Watching Fireworks‘ version, with an additional 20 seconds of Farfisa transcendence. “High Fidelity vs. Guy Fidelity” isn’t as essential, but it does provide some additional context, putting the band in-line with ’90s instrumental post-rock bands like Tortoise, like some hallowed union of the Sea and Cake and Stereolab by way of the 13th Floor Elevators. The Magnificent Seventies single gets the same treatment, although the title track goes the opposite direction, being chopped nearly in half for the single. The B-Side, “Waking Up Is Hard to Do” is less essential, although still quite fascinating, with four minutes of reedy organ and spartan, unadorned guitar chords, as if Codeine were working on a soundtrack to Hard to Be a God with Faust. You also get the Split with Adventures in Stereo and The Only Living Boy Around singles.

For the American Analog Set obsessives, the two unreleased cuts are likely to be the most exciting inclusions. “Queen of Her Own Parade” provides further evidence that they belong in the pantheon of great atmospheric indie guitar bands like Galaxie 500, with a similarly dreamy vocal and romantic guitar churn, made all the more glorious with its e-bowed roman candle glow.

New Drifters comes just several months after the American Analog Set delivered their first album in nearly 20 years. Hopefully this labor of love from the impeccable Numero Group takes another step in establishing the band as a major force in ’90s indie music and culture that never got their due during their earliest incarnation. Even if it doesn’t, it’s a treat and a treasure for existing American Analog Set fans, capturing a unique moment in the band’s history. They would go on to deliver some exceptional records in the 21st century, especially 2001’s Know By Heart, but original keyboardist Lisa Roschmann had already left by that point, taking her Farfisa with her. AmAnSet 2.0 showed themselves to be just as adept at crafting catchy, dreamy heartfelt indie rock, but they have yet to recapture the visionary heights so lovingly captured and presented on this gorgeous box set.