It is sometimes easier to dismiss the solo work of once-trailblazing artists than consider any of it. After all, redirecting the white-hot comet of innovation is often insurmountably difficult. Examining the case of Tom Verlaine (née Tom Miller) the protégé of one bona fide classic (1977’s Marquee Moon) and another underrated, yet oddly panned record (Adventure just one year later), it might be tempting to say the trajectory led to squander. The winding road from Wilmington, Delaware to immortality ended in the sweat, puke, and murk of New York’s CBGB. Or perhaps not.
The story of Dreamtime begins with a star-crossed creation myth. Just three years after his original band’s dissolution, Verlaine lost half his studio recordings on account of poor quality reel-to-reel tape; its re-recording needed to take place with a new lineup, as the bulk of his players were unavailable. However patchwork the sessions and studio band, Verlaine’s vision and direction are peerless, and at 37 minutes, Dreamtime is a peculiarly thorough record. It opens with something eerie and dramatic, “There Is A Reason,” filled from top to bottom with haunting, satisfying progression. He pulls in the familiar dueling guitar effect throughout, most notably on “Penetration,” whose passionate abandon foreshadows what made The Pretenders’ first two albums classics. Swirling, dreamlike guitars fill “Without A Word,” a track that began as the rewrite of a would-be Television song originally titled “Hard On Love.” From the same scratch pad as Adventure’s “Foxhole” seems to be “Mr. Blur,” which prances militaristically but has been updated to something more subtle. If Marquee Moon broke ground for the fearlessly innovative aspects of the punk genre, then Dreamtime turned that ethos toward accessibility.
Time has been kind to Verlaine, and the ten songs that make up Dreamtime—his second of nine records in the last thirty years—have aged in concert with the statement he made through his original Television incarnation. While an earlier reissue contained two extra versions of existing album tracks (1994’s Infinite Zero/American Recordings reissue featured alternate takes on “The Blue Robe” and “Always”), there is no deficit. As great as Television was, Dreamtime proves that there are indeed second acts in American genius. |