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Jerry Paper is Lucas Nathan. Jerry Paper is instant coffee, bullshit jobs, weekly therapy sessions, crises of conscience, corporate mascots, 5meo-DMT trips, jokers down on their luck, surveillance, a jacked dad high on meth at a child’s party, apologies, trash cans, cacti, and the magic of words. From its initial days as a DIY solo synth project in the early 2010s to its current incarnation as a five-piece band, Jerry Paper has always been the earthly conduit for the wild and uncanny imagination of its creative mastermind.
In 2019, back from traveling the world for the I Am Begging You To Come To These Shows tour, Jerry Paper hung up their flowing dress and sandals, glided into the studio, and began giving material form to their new musical manifestation: Abracadabra.
Over thirteen songs, they serve up a blend of jazzy instrumentation with soft-rock stylings and some seriously catchy earworms, forging a style that hints at the avant-pop of Scott Walker, the sweet enchantment of Paul McCartney, and the cryptic, smooth grooves of Steely Dan.
Like all good stories, Abracadabra boasts unforgettable characters: someone with a victim complex (“Cholla”); an alien captive surveilled by a mysterious presence (“Puppeteer”), and a buff man whose life is thrown into shambles when he is caught smoking methamphetamine at his child’s birthday party (“Body Builder on the Shore”). Nathan’s interest in talk therapy led to “Spit It Out”, a song about the health-inducing qualities of improvised speech; “Memorial Highway” is about existence after death in other people’s memories, and “Apologist” and “All I Need” affirm the value — and occasional futility — of recognizing one’s wrongs. Building new realities out of words and sounds is no easy task, and on “Trash Can”, Nathan mourns the frustrations of the creative process.
Abracadabra is many things at once: arch and sincere, bizarre and all too real, funny and melancholic — the work of an artist living in a world when despair so often tips over into ridiculousness, sometimes the only thing left to do is laugh.
Nathan worked with longtime visual collaborator Steve Smith and avant-comedian Alan Resnick to create the album art, which depicts an alien outsider spotting someone he recognizes. Who could it be? Don’t worry. Sit back, relax, and let Abracadabra cast its spell.
SITCOM ~ JAs Sitcom, Jake Lazovick's musical blend spins together twitchy lo-fi beats, crunchy synths, the pop punk jet fuel of his youth, undeniable pop hooks, and a deadpan mundanity somewhere between Andy Kaufman and Jonathan Richman. After his formal debut, Be the One You Love, earned attention for that fusion, Lazovick needed to figure out a way to stop overthinking the process, to reach past the frustration of over-analysis. With friends contributing everything from mellotron to vibraphone, Lazovick learned to accept himself on his sophomore album, Smoothie. "I thought I was making an album about objects and consumerism, but it ended up being about doing away with my own ego and letting go of myself," he explains. "I'm still really neurotic about making music, but it's just part of the process. I don't know how to do it any other way."
Lazovick’s trademark ranginess has led to a cult following over the years, first as vocalist/guitarist of indie rock trio Foozle, and then for Sitcom’s perfectly-broken-in-sweater Bandcamp-only albums and intoxicating live shows—an unforgettable blend of pogoing mania and dada stand-up comedy.
From the album’s first single, “Gutter”, it’s clear that Lazovick is continuing to grow his sweetly rounded, self-referential musical world. The music rapidly shifts and morphs to suit his needs, all without ever losing sight of the magnetic hook at the core. “I’m in the gutter again, in the gutter, my friend,” he arcs, the dense riffing, gentle guitar underpinning, and multi-tracked vocals riding a ‘90s sugar high. And as the song breaks down into a medley of thundering drums, rippling guitar, and ragged electronics, it’s easy to imagine Lazovick ecstatically tossing around the stage, only to quickly return to the undeniable hook and a drum fill reminiscent of Bell Biv Devoe.
Recently relocated to New York City, Lazovick’s music is heavily influenced by his journey from his native Rockville, Maryland, through to art school in Baltimore where he studied sculpture, and then five years in Philadelphia, making connections and drawing influence from each scene along the way. Lazovick’s work as a member of the music video production group Powered by Wind both adds more connections and mirrors his musical work ethic, finding unexpected solutions, directing, and designing unusual props for music videos for the likes of Slow Pulp, Metronomy, and Body Meat.
Revised countless times over, some of the songs on Smoothie date back a number of years. The original stems for album opener “Rear-view View” were recorded in September, 2016, written on Foozle’s final tour as the band began to part ways. The song sets the tone for the album perfectly, arranging the characters (giddy synths, chunky guitar, thud-skip percussion) and the themes (effortless bouncing between the mundane and the ethereal). “Just wanna watch the clouds pass by,” he sings, followed by a vocoded voice: “Weaving through the myth of eternity!”
“Bug In Lamplight” follows that trend and sets up other trademark Smoothie-isms via the very Sitcom-appropriate callback. Multiple tracks reference birds, treadmills, CVS, spilled beverages, billboards, and licorice, the lines coming together to build out a full language. That cohesive feeling is especially miraculous considering the album was recorded over the course of five years in a handful of locations, and that Lazovick spent most of that time re-recording parts over and over. “It was all very makeshift, flying by the seat of my pants,” he says. “But piece by piece, the whole album was remade until I convinced myself to let go.”
As a project, Sitcom ranges and roves, a heady mix united by Lazovick’s voice over the top. On “Frustration”, he’s using a Starbucks gift card over a Caribou-esque beat, while on “the Astrud Gilberto-esque “Shopping Center” he and guest vocalist ARTHUR observe nurses grabbing Chipotle on their lunch break. As the album closes on “Who”, Lazovick may still be figuring out who he is in this new world he’s created, but at least he sounds relaxed and confident in the process. “Who will I be when I let me be me?” he sighs. The song continues on a walk through Philadelphia, passing a City Fitness, cockroaches in a parking lot, and a ring of hippies and yuppies singing to a purple sunset. It’s hard to tell if Lazovick is mocking wellness culture or if he desires it. A good chat and a cup of tea eases everything back into a bleary-eyed wonder—Smoothie ending very appropriately on the transformative power of a good beverage.
Local support from Conman Bolo celebrating the release of thier new King Spliff !