Portuguese Murder Ballads

Every now and then a band comes along with an album that epitomizes the reason for my passion for music and songs. Such is the debut album from This Old Earthquake, an acoustic trio from Bolinas, California in Marin County. I might expect this from a band with many recordings under its belt, or who had been playing together for years, but not from a breakout album by members who had only been playing together for barely a year.

Childhood friends Ethan Okamura (guitar, vocals), Michael Burton (bass), and Steve Trivelpiece (vocals, guitar) reunited after eleven years and decided to see if they could work together. It turned out to be a good mix and the band was officially formed taking its name from a song by Americana legend Gram Parsons who wrote, “This old earthquake’s gonna leave me in the poorhouse.”  They describe their music as “West Marinicana,” or back porch music, and appropriately so.

The first verse from “Birthday Card” made me pause and ask, “Who are these guys?”

“Livin’s ok, but life’s a disaster.
People are gods, when they’re not being bastards.
But you touched my life like the edge of a knife.
You taught me not to need, you taught not to need
another thing.” 

I had stumbled upon something fresh, crisp, and mellow, but very alive. The beauty was in the details of the songs and the recording itself, with obvious attention being given to every word, guitar phrase, and vocal harmony. Instead of being overly engineered and processed to perfection, the nuances and intimacy of the guitars and vocals were highlighted in such a way that I felt like these guys were playing in my living room.

It turns out that, after years of playing music in different arenas, the members of This Old Earthquake consciously avoided that familiar loud, raucous, indelicate sound of rock music. They wanted things to be uncluttered and decided to go without a drummer. Drums can add a whole other element that bands have to work with, or around.

The songs were sung at a level akin to speaking and the guitar lines were simply stated, clean and tasteful. At times they reminded me of The Grateful Dead, unplugged, only more in tune and tighter. At other times, I detected a hint of country. There were even some jazz elements thrown in. Overall, this album might be considered folk with a very contemporary sound, but in a class all its own.

The subject material on this album called, Portuguese Murder Ballads, covers real experiences of death, loss, misfortune, and love. “Tsunami,” was written by Okamura and performed at a memorial service for his father, and “Cemetery Street,” by Trivelpiece, was an ode to a girlfriend who died.

And there was the haunting “Lisbon” about a young woman’s body that washed up on the beach:

“It’s six a.m. in Lisbon
and there’s a body on the beach.
She was somebody’s daughter
But nothing is what it seems.”

Recording this CD was no small feat, as the band trekked across the country with the help of family and community to record with Bonnie Raitt engineer Paul Middleton. It’s an inspiring story in itself and you can read about it on their website.

This album is a like the small town you pass through on the highway on your way to somewhere else. You might miss it if you’re not paying attention and I am grateful that our paths crossed. Rumor has it they will be making a new recording this year. Stay tuned.