Edie Brickell & New Bohemians, "Shooting Rubberbands at the Stars"

Ken's feeling the cold air of December

, and

Dec 15, 2021

Ken’s Pitch:

If you’re a regular reader of EONS, you know that from time to time I can get caught up in a moment or a feeling a particular album gives me. That’s what I love about music; it’s got a transportive quality that most of us have experienced at some point. A great painting or a good book or movie can do the same thing.

I loved Shooting Rubberbands At The Stars not from the moment I first heard “What I Am” on the radio and not when “Circle” became a singalong staple of my female high school classmates. It wasn’t until I saw Edie and all of her Bohemians open for The Grateful Dead in July of 1990 that I really started to embrace Edie and her debut album.

She had a cool yet understated stage presence that seemed to dare the audience to challenge her credibility of being a young upstart opening for one of the greatest touring acts of all time. Her band was excellent! They were tight, they played their various on-stage roles without being overbearing, and they even mimicked the guitar sounds of the great Jerry Garcia. It was a joy to witness and it’s a day that I will never forget.

Having said that, please do not vote this album onto Newbury St. I made a mistake…it happens. I’m not saying the album is trash because it’s not. And I’m not saying that I don’t like most of the album because I do. But it’s not up to the standards we have for admission to Newbury St.

Edie’s voice is instantly recognizable and her band is certainly loaded with top notch musicians, but with the exception of the three hits (“What I Am”, “Circle” and “Nothing”) there is a lot of filler that leaves you anything but full. Her infatuation with Warhol starlet Edie Sedgwick caused her to pen “Little Miss S” which is exactly that, a little miss. “Air of December” is completely forgettable, “Beat The Time” makes you yell “SKIP!” at Alexa or Siri or whoever happens to be playing music in your house.

We all make mistakes; my previous one was in 1986 when I swore to my good friend Matt that my Boston Bruins would beat Wayne Gretzky’s Edmonton Oilers in the Stanley Cup Finals. Thirty-five years later here we are with another mistake.

Happy holidays to everyone out there no matter how you celebrate. My present to you this year is a warning: listen to anything but Shooting Rubberbands At The Stars.

CJ’s Response

I am a fan of The Great British Bake Off. This is not especially revelatory. Lots of people like the show for its simple charm and lack of enmity that most American reality shows use as fuel for ratings. It’s just a bunch of amateur bakers creating various breads and pies in the English countryside while unreservedly helping and rooting for each other. Not to mention the appearance of an odd squirrel or bunny.

In one episode a few seasons back, a large, rugged baker from the north of England was trying (unsuccessfully) to make an ice cream cake. His doomed creation didn’t set properly and was melting all over his workspace. In a fit of pique, he picked up the entire cake, serving tray and all, and dumped it in the trash.

When Paul Hollywood and Mary Berry came over to taste his cake, he told them that he had thrown it in the bin.

“Why did you do that?” asked Paul.

“Because it looked a mess,” the baker grumbled in reply.

“Sometimes things that look a mess taste delicious,” said Mary. “But now we’ll never know.”

I’m not sure why Ken threw his Edie Brickell pitch in the bin. Shooting Rubberbands at the Stars sold over two million copies in the U.S. alone, so he wasn’t the only one who liked it. And before he bailed on it, I was actually giving it serious consideration.

I already knew and liked “What I Am”, “Little Ms. S” and “Circle” going into the exercise. And I was further surprised by how much I enjoyed “Air of December” and “The Wheel”. That’s nearly half the record right there.

And while the rest of the songs are a mixed bag, there are some higher points that offset the low ones. Rubberbands may not be an all-time great album, but it’s certainly a pleasant enough listen. Under the right circumstances it might have even found its way onto Newbury St.

But now we’ll never know.

Pitch Failed (Self-inflicted)

Mitch’s Response:

Hi Daniel Ek,

I’m a longtime Spotify Premium user with a quick question: do you have hippies in Sweden? I’m guessing you don’t. It seems really cold over there and I’m not sure if the scene is kind, if you know what I mean (nudge, nudge, wink, wink).

Anyway, I ask about hippies because I’m going to need some help from your fancy algorithm. As you know, we’ve been doing this EONS thing for quite a while (yes, we’ll get to Ace of Base eventually) and this week Ken dropped a real doozy on us with Edie Brickell & New Bohemians’ Shooting Rubberbands at Stars. I know, I know, the title is just as stupid as the rest of the freshman dorm room lyrics that fill up this exceptionally-tedious album.

My real problem is that ever since I started listening to this soporific album Spotify now thinks that I’m the worst kind of hippie that likes shitty, soft, jam-adjacent music. I’ve spent a decade nurturing my feed to be filled with just the cream off the jam band crop (Grateful Dead, Phish, Goose, Railroad Earth, etc.) and all of my work has been ruined in just one short (but incredibly painful) week. You even recommended Rusted Fucking Root to me!

There are two good songs on this exceedingly boring album - "What I Am" and “Circle" - and it’s no surprise that they were the hits. Even those songs are boring, but at least there’s a fake Jerry guitar solo and some nice changes. The rest of the album ranges from boring (“Little Miss S.”) to exceptionally boring (“I Do”) to incredibly boring but also irritating (“Keep Coming Back”). The playing is unremarkable, the vocals are annoying, the lyrics are terrible, and, in all candor, this might be the worst album that we’ve ever covered.

Help me save my Spotify feed, Daniel Ek, you’re my only hope.

Pitch Failed (he left the circle because you’re boring friends)

Ken’s anti-pitch was not unsuccessful and Edie Brickell & New Bohemians’ Shooting Rubberbands at the Sky has been exiled to a dorm room somewhere!

We, are part of a circle of newsletter friends, and we, think it all depends on you, leaving comments, about Edie Brickell, so please, click this button here, and you, can leave a comment there.

Exile on Newbury St.

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