They’re nobody’s buzz bands anymore. But since 1993, MAGNET has discovered and documented more great music than memory will allow. The groups may have broken up or the albums may be out of print, but this time, history is written by the losers. Here are some of the finest albums that time forgot but we remembered in issue #75, plus all-new additions to our list of Lost Classics.
:: SPACE NEEDLE
The Moray Eels Eat The Space Needle // Zero Hour, 1997
During its 1994-97 existence, this Long Island outfit only mustered two albums before falling victim to label ineptitude and commercial indifference. Space Needle seemed disorganized, at one point overlapping with Reservoir (drummer/vocalist Jud Ehrbar’s solo vehicle) and Varnaline (guitarist/vocalist Anders Parker’s extracurricular gig). Yet by the time of The Moray Eels, Ehrbar, Parker and guitarist Jeff Gatland had achieved a visionary, vision-inducing sound. Gone was the lo-fi bedroom prog of 1995’s Voyager; in its place were 13-minute skronk fests, Frippertronic-esque reveries and violin-laced indie pop. That The Moray Eels was delayed for a year while Roger Dean dithered over sleeve art depicting dragons flying over a moonscape, though, seemed emblematic of Space Needle’s fortunes.
Catching Up: Ehrbar recorded two Reservoir records and played on most of Parker’s releases, but he’s been quiet of late. Parker issued four albums as Varnaline and two under his own name and collaborated with Son Volt’s Jay Farrar as Gob Iron; he has four new albums in the can awaiting release details. A Space Needle retrospective, Recordings 1994-1997, was released in 2006.
“One Kind Of Lullaby”:
