Spencer Krug is a man of many guises. His overwhelmingly large number of musical projects has dazzled many since his band Wolf Parade became indie darlings in 2005. His latest metamorphosis is just his bare self, releasing an album under his own name for the first time under his own humorously-titled label Pronounced Kroog. Despite the recurring theme of being out-of-time in his songs, he managed to jump on the bandwagon of starting a Patreon page, where he releases a new song every month (along with improvisations, reworked old songs, and live footages) and has obtained funding for his latest solo album Fading Graffiti.
While all songs on Fading Graffiti previously appeared as low-key piano ballads on Krug's Patreon, and it would have been easy for him to compile them into yet another album, Krug chose to reinterpret the bunch by recruiting a band (with Jordan Koop on electric guitar, Adrienne Humblet on bass, Nicholas Merz on pedal steel guitar, and Eli Browning on drums) and transforming it into folk-oriented rock songs. The team effort is commendable since I personally much prefer the songs' current forms to the original demos, giving the songs more dynamics and diverse moods.
The end product captures a more serene period of Krug's life. Some of the subject matters include being at peace at home, potential fatherhood, being in love, and observing natural surroundings. As usual, Krug's songs have plenty of twists and turns, but his delivery of them seems calm and collected this time. Still, the album is a far cry from going commercial; certain elements might initially pose slight challenges to the listening experience. For instance, the winding guitar intro of the eponymous opener Fading Graffiti took me some time to get used to. The guitars are tinged with country music flavors, and the strange twangy sounds remind me of the music by his old band mate in Swan Lake, Dan Bejar (Destroyer). Before long, the song gets stuck in my head, and I can hum the vocal parts and even the guitar melodies all the way through. Strange, indeed.
The subsequent three songs in succession are truly stunning. With Krug's discography of piano tunes, Fading Graffiti has surprisingly little piano on it. Winter Starts to Fall ,however, has elegant piano flourishes scattered in the first two-thirds the song, reminding me of his Moonface days. The song makes a dramatic turn at the last minutes, carrying forward a propelling bridge with sing-along vocals of "You owe me for how much I love you". It is both romantic and slightly twisted. Having Discovered Ayahuasca is country-flavored at first and has that Destroyer-vibe again. Krug makes gentle reproaches to people's superstition and quest for faux-pas spiritual journeys. The song's catchy melodies culminate in masterful transitions that would be familiar to Wolf Parade fans. The poignant line near the end "If you could save me, I can save us both" lingers in my mind for days. River River is possibly the rockiest song on the record. Using the river as a metaphor for forgetfulness, Krug laments the faded memories with his signature passionate howls. It would certainly stir up the crowd when performed live.
Songs increasingly take up somber tones after River River. Highlights in this middle section include The Moon and the Dream and Serena's Kills. The Moon and the Dream, as the title suggests, has dreamlike qualities to its sound, reminiscent of some of songs Krug had written as Moonface. The band creates jazzy and mysterious atmospheres that surround Krug's vocals. Serena's Kills originated from a fan's suggestion on Patreon. A fan on Krug's Patreon wondered if Krug could compose a song out of the title Serena's Kills. It seems that Krug had fun writing and performing this song, which has the twangy guitars on Fading Graffiti, eerie drum beats, and abrupt transitions that somehow work for the song.
The penultimate track Crossroads is the song with most intense emotions on the album. Krug has always had insecurities about his music career (e.g. Sunset Rubdown's You Go On Ahead (Trumpet Trumpet II), Moonface's November 2011), but his anxiety this time is admittedly even more complicated. He describes prevailing outside forces ("Now they've gone and made a portrait of an actual black hole/Which of course is just a portrait of a god that wants to swallow us all whole") that pose great danger to music making. Perhaps it is this existential crisis that propels him not give up musical composition. "And won't you tell me, won't you tell me again/How I'm some kind of healer?" Well, you are, Spencer.
The album ends on an optimistic note with Ping a Wing above the Door. Although this song was written before the coronavirus pandemic, it could apply to the lockdown situation people more or less found themselves under over the past year. Krug describes the warm cocoon his partner and he had created in their domestic life. Lines like "I had a good time just hanging around the house with you all month" and "A bathtub and a laptop showing shows that we've both seen", "Just us and the dog, we were all as still as stones/I'm not moving anymore" suggest true happiness and offers a breath of fresh air in our current immobility—it is possible to forge deeper ties with our beloved when we are stuck at home.
Overall, Fading Graffiti is an album that strikes a balance between Spencer Krug's ambitions and fan expectations. It is wonderful that Krug finds a way to keep making the music he wants to make without giving in to the possible demands from labels. I hope he continues to leave his more commercially viable endeavors to Wolf Parade and create interesting music in his personal pursuits.