“Golden Haze”
from the EP Golden Haze
2010
iTunes
Whether digging through the crates at a used CD store, or plumbing the depths of Amazon, one of the great thrills of being a music fan is discovering a certain style that appeals to you, and seeing just how deeply you can immerse yourself in it before coming up for air. Gemini felt like Jack Tatum was sharing that feeling with all of us — that first experience with a Smiths or Cocteau Twins album when you wonder, “Where has this been all of my life?” That he made his album stand out amidst a formidable number of similar acts was a testament to how well he could extract one recognizable cell from the past and spawn it into something wholly his own, reverential but hardly derivative.
Golden Haze initially appears to be the culmination of Wild Nothing’s big year, collecting the previously available Evertide EP, a Gemini B-side, and two new tracks. But as a State of Wild Nothing Report, it shows that Tatum is nowhere near done messing with his favorite musical ingredients. While still enamored with 1980s UK indie, like so much of Gemini, the maneuvering here sneaks up on you. The sunny jungle of “Summer Holiday” is almost completely forgone for something sleeker and darker, more along the lines of Gemini standouts “Chinatown” or “Bored Games.”
It’s a good look for him, considering Tatum’s knack for succinct romantic pleas (“beautiful one, I want to go where you are”) and weaving chains of floral guitar notes, both of which propel the gorgeous title track. It’s one of Wild Nothing’s strongest singles, but it’s also where he starts to tweak the arrangements, particularly with drums. The textural mesh of its severely-gated snare and sleigh bells recalls The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven,” and Tatum’s portentous and maudlin vocal range invites further comparisons to Robert Smith.
Oddly enough, the one selection from Golden Haze EP that would’ve been the most jarring inclusion on Gemini is actually a B-side from “Summer Holiday” — “Vultures Like Lovers” is pure, ecstatic texture, a heavily processed guitar ping-ponging with delay, and Tatum’s tremolo’d vocals building a cyclone from the ground up. It’s the sort of experiment that ends up as a B-side for a reason, but its inclusion is evidence of what I find most charming about Wild Nothing: The combination of decades-old influence with the ability to see a modern prolific talent progress almost in real time.