| Dustedmagazine |
| First things first: Do not confuse these Trypes with the Greek band of the same name, which has a much more robust YouTube presence and a much more modest sound. These Trypes were born 31 years ago in Haledon, New Jersey’s The Come On Inn. Two young guys, Elbrus Kelemet and Marc Francia, cooked up a plan; record one song, press it on a single, and put it in the bar’s jukebox. Elbrus sang, Marc played guitar, and they recruited a couple pals — Toni Paruto on recorder, John Baumgartner on organ — to help them work out some songs. When time came to try and get their sound down on tape, they approached a couple local guys with a broken-up band and a basement studio. Those guys were Glenn Mercer and Bill Million of The Feelies, and they not only recorded the tape, they joined the band. But it wasn’t exactly a takeover, since Mercer played stand-up drums rather than his usual guitar, and Millions initially handled the soundboard. Nonetheless they became part of a constellation of interrelated ensembles like The Willies, Yung Wu and Dr. Robert, all associated by membership with The Feelies. Music For Neighbors, a retrospective of everything The Trypes released in their lifetime plus 13 archival tracks, takes its title from a concert series that took place in the spring of 1983, when all of those combos took turns playing another Haledon watering hole called The Peanut Gallery. But it also sums up this music, which is made by, with, and for a fairly insular community. They were niche rockers before there was such a thing, but also the latest iteration of something that had been around for ages — local combos made up of people with no notion of making music a career, but who played for the fun of playing, and for the fun of hanging out. Most of The Trypes’ music never got heard outside the neighborhood — at least, not until now. Music For Neighbors includes not just the tunes they actually released during their lifetime, but 13 more that you could only have known if you knew them or caught one of their shows. There are eleven songs, including the five released back in the 80s, on an LP that comes enclosed in an appropriately homemade letterpress sleeve, and seven more come with the accompanying download coupon. The accompanying booklet is filled with remembrances by core band members and No. 1 fan/occasional sound guy Ira Kaplan, and it’s full of old pictures just like an old snapshot album you might pass around when the neighbors stop by....full text |
| Pitchfork |
| It's tempting to call 1980's New Jersey band the Trypes a Feelies side project. All five current Feelies were involved at some point, and the only record the Trypes ever released-- 1984's 4-song The Explorers Hold EP-- has a distinct Feelies vibe. It's filled with the Zen strumming and Moe Tucker-ish beats of late-80s Feelies albums The Good Earth and Only Life. One song, the rolling "The Undertow", even showed up later in very similar form on Only Life. But the Trypes were more than an offshoot. They started as a quartet with no Feelies members, and when Feelies guitarist/singer Glenn Mercer joined, his other band had technically broken up and he was just looking to play drums. More importantly, the Trypes were part of an overlapping circle of N.J. outfits-- including the Feelies, Yung Wu, and the Willies-- whose work had a casual, familial feel. Often it sounded like they were making music for each other rather than an audience. That's why the title Music for Neighbors-- taken from a series these bands put on at Haledon, N.J., bar the Peanut Gallery-- is such a perfect name for Acute's selection from the Trypes archives. Alongside The Explorers Hold EP, the LP-plus-digital-download set collects demos, live performances, and practice sessions at Hoboken's legendary Maxwell's club. This previously unreleased material is compelling mostly because of its personal, homemade aura. Unpolished and unassuming, it creates an apt portrait of a band that, as Mercer explains in the liner notes, "sprung out of a series of weekly, informal, neighborhood gatherings, playing sparse and simple music on a local level for our own enjoyment."...full text |
| Thefourohfive |
| Album titles can be a big clue as to the actual content of an album. There are loud, in-your-face titles, romantic titles, or just plain what-on-earth titles, a perfect example being the bizarrely named concept album Odgen's Nut Gone Flake from Small Faces. And then there are names like Music For Neighbors. It's nice, it's polite, it's considerate, but it does nothing to prevent the album from being something that you wouldn't look twice at. However, appearances can be deceiving. Behind the dull beige artwork, this sensibly titled album is in fact an appealing one, consisting of releases from the mid-eighties New Jersey-based band The Trypes. They were a band made up of New Jersey musicians and various members of The Feelies, during a brief hiatus after their debut album, Crazy Rhythms. Whereas The Feelies were a lot more interested in creating rock, The Trypes decided to make music with an understated, psychedelic feel to it. Music For Neighbors is all about the instruments, surreal lyrics and creating a dramatic atmosphere. 'From The Morning Glories' kicks off the album in true psychedelic rock style with jagged keyboard rhythms and jangly guitars accompanied by future The Feelies member Brenda Sauter's deep voice. The third song on the album, 'Music For Neighbors', is a suspenseful track that feels like it's constantly on the edge of mutating into something more, yet it never does, and there's a calm quality to the track 'A Plan, Revised' with its piano music and optimistic chant of 'can't resist the future, can't resist the feeling'. It's even more relaxed on its demo version, which is a very stripped-back and more acoustic version. The point on Music For Neighbors where things get a little strange is six songs in, during the track 'Belmont Girl Is Mad At Me'. The most immediately noticeable thing about this song is the voice which is oddly simplistic and childlike, and constantly sounds like it is on the verge of tears as it sings of burning hair, bleeding hands and being ignored by an unreachable girl. These desolate vocals are made even morose by the harmonica beneath them, before the song is abruptly twisted into a jittery echo of the previous half of the track. These unusual-to say the least- vocals return on 'Foreign Doctors', where every syllable of every lyric seems glued to the blunt rhythm, and these strict sounding vocals definitely won't be to everyone's taste....full text |
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