Antenna Shoes

Steve Wildsmith on Antenna Shoes Live: On stage, the ensemble is a loose configuration of individual musical planets, all revolving around a bright and shining song. The song serves as the centrifugal force of this particular solar system, but like the heavenly planets themselves, the individual musicians are pulsing spheres of life. Their roles in this particular musical microcosm is like that of their stellar counterparts -- to live and breathe and explode and evolve on their own, while never spinning out of orbit around the center. Such a description of Antenna Shoes might sound astronomically melodramatic, especially on a Tuesday afternoon when a sleep-deprived Antenna Shoes front man, Tim Regan, has just left Manhattan, en route to a show that night in Washington, D.C. But it's as good a description as any for what the band does, he said. Regan and the circle of musicians who make up his various projects -- neo-psychedelic rock band Snowglobe; indie pop outfit Oh No! Oh My! (also on the bill for tonight's Antenna Shoes show at Barley's Taproom) -- have been playing together since roughly 2001, Regan said. Antenna Shoes began in 2005, when Snowglobe was on hiatus and Regan found himself in East Tennessee. He loaned his instrumental skills to the indie band Sparklehorse, playing keys on that group's album "Dreamt for Light Years in the Belly of a Mountain," and began a project that's been described as "semi-electronic chamber pop." The sounds of "Generous Gambler" are majestic in their ebb and flow; playing all of the instruments, Regan drew inspiration from vintage instruments, classic rock song-sculpting and dream-like imagery to craft a work of art that's both ethereal and engaging, the musical equivalent of a heroin/cocaine speedball -- a shot of adrenaline that leaves you tapping your feet and drumming your fingers, immediately followed by a reverie that lulls the listener into a state of transcendence. All Music Guide: Tim Regan is a busy, busy guy. Along with his tenure in two different bands in two different cities -- he’s the keyboardist and co-lead singer in the Memphis-based neo-psychedelic outfit Snowglobe and a member of Austin’s chipper twee popsters Oh No! Oh My! -- the Memphis, TN-based multi-instrumentalist has his own full-time project, a semi-electronic chamber pop band called Antenna Shoes. Regan started Antenna Shoes in 2005 while on a temporary hiatus from Snowglobe, during which time he also played keyboards on Sparklehorse’s Dreamt for Light Years in the Belly of a Mountain. The first Antenna Shoes album, The Generous Gambler, was recorded with Regan handling the majority of instruments, alongside contributions (including strings and brass) from various friends. In order to tour behind the album, Regan put together a stable version of Antenna Shoes featuring himself on vocals and a variety of keyboard instruments, guitarist Luke White, guitarist and second keyboardist Steve Selvidge, trumpeter and flute player Nahshon Benford, bassist Brandon Robertson, and drummer Paul Taylor. ~ Stewart Mason, All Music Guide Sean Moeller (daytrotter) It's not how many people would say it, but there's something valid in thinking that until you've written a song that isn't just a love mark for your particular sweetheart (containing subliminal messages and the innermost inside jokes and innuendos), but a universal love mark for every sweetheart that's currently out there being owned and operated by a great big love - whether you know them or never will, you've got a ways to go. This meaningful and highly elusive ballad has already been attained by Memphis-ish band Antenna Shoes, led by songwriter Tim Regan, who splits his time between the group and his more headline-grabbing outfit from Austin, Oh No! Oh My! The real issue with the song that feels like love, is that it's not a stereotypical ballad at all. Not even close. It seems that no matter where Regan's spending his time, he's got himself involved with musical acts that are willingly exploratory and unfettered by expectations or cluttered, distended ideas that normally only serve up hooey that leaves bitter aftertastes - like generic energy drinks and Ragu. Regan describes the title track from the group's new album Generous Gambler as a writing loosely based on a book of 50 Baudalaire poems that were about bad tempers and the life surrounding him in Paris during the time of their mid-1800s originations. Regan goes on to say that the devil is out there and it feels like such an outlandish way to think about what strikes another one as a hopeful love song about hopefulness and dreary circumstances. Yep, hopeful and hopelessness all rolled into one. There are two characters in the song who have boredom in their eyes, but that's not a disaster. The feeding happens on a rainy day and the lights are dimmed shards as the main character slips into a small café for a bite to eat with some shining girls who are depressed by men and depressed by more than they can list. They decide that maybe the devil's offer of immortal health is worth giving their souls up for. Regan doesn't want them to do it, as you can imagine. They're going to make their own choices though, even after hearing this guy - fueled on a pot or two of coffee and offering up a gutsy and effervescent bit of soul - pin the tail on a bright, full moon. He makes his case as clear as it can be. He takes in all of a great breath and lets it rip, channeling some of the older Memphis mainstays - maybe even a horny, just-late Isaac Hayes - and letting it all exhale from him in an exasperated plea to reconsider. He strains his throat into a cobbler, keeping it sweet, but dusty and emotional - like he really cares. There's a strong man in there singing and there's a guy who knows the way to seduction in there as well - a way to play up the encroaching advances of a devil looking to get some gold into a warm bed and a comforting conversation. Regan writes big songs in the fashion of some of the guys that don't get their proper do. He's got a knack for the Eddie Money, baby-hold-onto-me-whatever-will-be-will be lyrics and an innate ability to cross the bridges that link Hall & Oates, Rush and the Steve Miller Band together into a delicious dessert, a pudding or a dish of soft serve. It's an impressive act and it's pulled off not as nothing like an act, just an appreciation for big songs, big sentiments and chops to sing the lights out.