Morningbell Goes Home: a review of Basso Profundo

Orange Records

Goodnight, Moon. Basso, Profundo is by far the most grounded of Gainesville mainstay Morningbell’s albums, with a earthiness to it not found in the band’s formerly cosmos-focused gaze. The energy has shifted drastically downward, with tunes pulsing less in heady subject and more into, well, head. For this night at least, the telescope has been packed away. I guess the Prince and Al Green records front-man/rock critic Travis Atria has long trumpeted have finally gotten to him, beyond his karaoke versions of Prince’s “Kiss,” that is. And that’s not metaphorical, either. I’ve seen Travis sing “Kiss,” and I was with the band much earlier when they still were “Morningbell – formerly Future Feels Good,” aka their collective moniker in their former home of Miami. Morningbell and me came to Gainesville together, and I like them, so while I live very far away now, they are still very, very close to me. Which is beautiful because this is their most “home” album, the first time one can say the damp dirt of Gainesville has rubbed off on them, as opposed to the academia of the University of Florida. Shit, “That’s the Way,” the most abstract song of Basso Profundo, the one still swirling around deep space, features the most crucial lyric: “Rise Lazarus, you’ve been sleeping too long.” And bam, Morningbell is revitalized. Hear them drums? Not since Masa was spinning his sticks like spaceships have I paid so much attention to Morningbell drumming. The band has always been heavily percussive, but it was of the heavenly sort, the sort of pounding of the Beatles’ “Tomorrow Never Knows” (which M. Bell has covered live). That’s the sound, that’s the sound of thousands of space ships invading Earth. No, the drums of track seven “Treat Me Right” are straight from the snare rim of Al Jackson Jr. (of the MG’s fame) via Willie Mitchell production via a lover’s heartbeat. These drums don’t come from above, but within. Percussionist Chris Hillman lays down some funky stuff on this piece all over and it fits snugly. Not to say this isn’t the first time Morningbell hasn’t grooved – like I said they’ve always had funky drums, but in the past Bell always seemed to be almost apologetic about it. Take “Let’s Not Lose Our Heads” and “Marching Off To War” from the band’s 2009 album Sincerely, Severely. Both songs are funky as hell, but they are laced with the discomfort and paranoia of living with America’s bellicose foreign policy. Basso Profundo is in that respect a much more pure album, more innocent. After the early Radiohead expressionism from the Day I Was Born, the Flaming Lips-like overbearing wonder of Forgetting to Wake Up, the shadowy depths of existentialism on Through the Belly of the Sea, the political rage of Sincerely, Severely…Basso Profundo stands apart. Basso Profundo is a return home. A return to to the coy hip swivel of sweet soul music; a return to just being alive. For the first time in almost a decade, the future feels good. “Hey Man, Hallelujah.”