Many many years ago, while discussing the work of producer DJ Premier with strangers in an online music messageboard forum, one of the participants made a point that has stuck with me til this day: Someone said they weren’t fans of Premier’s production style and dismissed it as “too…formulaic.” To which another person responded, “That’s like saying the Ramones are ‘formulaic’.” “Touché!”, the detractor replied. It’s an interesting point to consider: Sure you don’t have to like something just because it’s universally revered, but sometimes it’s at least worth considering the importance and/or attraction of an artist who manages to create art so unique that the style and/or content of the art becomes synonymous with the creator themself. There’s something to be said for hearing the opening 15 seconds of a hip-hop instrumental and instantly being able to identify the producer, just as there’s something to be said for seeing a film still or a passage from a book or a painting and being able to identify its creator. I think it’s safe to say that, ideally, most artists would like to be know for creating completely unique art, but it’s also safe to say that most, if not all, have some sort of reference/starting point that they’re “influenced by” (or just outright..::ahem:: emulating.) Audiences, fans and critics alike (whether they want to admit it or not) are more often than not drawn to art they can initially make sense of by comparing it to art they’ve already experienced and committed to memory. Whether they like or dislike the art they’re witnessing or have witnessed is neither here nor there at this point: it’s more about being able to say “THAT is like THIS!” either in their heads or out loud or in print. Jaded detractors and neigh sayers will delight in saying something “rips off” something else, often just to prove how knowledgeable they are or to show what impeccable, impenetrable taste they have. On the opposite side of the spectrum are the dummies who want to forego having to consider art or make up their own mind about anything and just simply relate what they’re hearing or seeing to something they already like (or think they SHOULD like) and declare it “good”. In between there are people like myself who hear/see something, immediately “get” what the artist is “going for” and then put it into one of three brain compartments: “yes!”, “no!” or “whatever.” The requirements for inclusion into each of those compartments is a whole ‘nother story. I don’t know what makes us like what we like or hate what we hate. Too many factors at play to even consider. BUT, there’s no denying that once those factors factor, people have very strong, guttural opinions about these things and regardless of what informed those opinions, mark my words: you’re gonna hear em!
Charles Douglas is the alter ego of Alex McAulay, who was frontman and songwriter in the 90’s indie pop band Vegetarian Meat who released one critically praised LP in 1995 during the great “post-Nevermind” grunge boom. Now I know what you’re thinking: “Isn’t Charles Douglas the Mexican-American sound engineer who invented the “laugh track” used on TV shows like The Brady Bunch, Bewitched, the Beverly Hillbillies, The Munsters and The Andy Griffith Show and which eventually revolutionized television production as we know it???” And to that I say, Well done, reader! BUT that’s a different Charles Douglass with an extra “s” at the end of his name. THIS Charles Douglas is the stage name used by McAulay for his three post-Vegetarian Meat solo records he recorded in 1998, 1999 and 2004. VM’s singles and LP were hard to categorize stylistically as they wove in and out of sonic territory occupied by bands like the They Might Be Giants, Half Japanese as well as Mudhoney and Sebadoh. It’s an unmistakably “90’s record” and the Wharton Tiers production might be the biggest reason. It would have fit in perfectly at Geffen when they were throwing money at pretty much anyone Thurston Moore so much as looked at. Imagine Gggarth or Butch Vig producing the Violent Femmes and you’ll have some idea of how familiar yet unfamiliar of a record “Let’s Pet” sounds. Shortly after releasing the LP the band went on tour with No.6 Records labelmates Luna only to call it quits a few months later.
Fast forward to 1998 and McAulay released his first solo record as Charles Douglas, , “The Burdens of Genius”, on a small label out of Carborro, NC called Voltage. That same year Voltage also released a solo album by McAulay’s songwriting partner in Vegetarian Meat, Manish Kalvakota, which was produced by Kurt Ralske from Ultra Vivid Scene who had just opened a small (and allegedly rat infested) studio in NYC. While Kalvakota’s album moves away from the quirkiness of Vegetarian Meat and delves into more “serious” territories both sonically and lyrically, McAulay as Douglas kept the same sense of humor and simple song structures of their previous band. Depending on who you ask, it may sound more sophisticated in its childlike abandon or it might sound like McAulay had given up on whatever mainstream “alternative” success VM had (possibly? presumably?) been striving for. While it’s a refreshing change from the awkwardness of Jack Endino style roaring guitars clashing with Jad Fair-esque angst of the VM LP, it’s still a little unfocused and all over the place and frankly, a little rushed sounding overall. But, if you were willing to stick around for his second solo record, McAulay would find the voice he was looking for with the help of a few vets who had been down the “sui generis mad pop genius vs. mainstream success” road before…
How anyone could listen to the first track off of “The Lives of Charles Douglas”, “Summertime”, and not immediately think, “Lou Reed” is beyond me. It’s almost shocking how perfectly McAulay emulates Reed’s deadpan vocal style and the driving, minimal drums behind the vocals sound so familiar it’s almost eerie. The familiarity makes a lot more sense once you read the liner notes and see the person behind the drum kit is…Moe Tucker! Add VM’s Kalvakota plus St.Johnny/Grand Mal vocalist/guitarist Bill Whitten and the aforementioned Ralske on production and you have what might be the best example of songs like Velvet Underground’s “Foggy Notion” or Reed’s “Hangin’ ‘Round” being directly referenced as not just an influence, but as the foundation of a completely unique style of pop rock ‘n roll altogether. If there’s any criticism of the record at all it may be that the band slips into “sounds like Pavement” territory a little too often. However, I can’t say that was something you’d hear too often in 1999 as Pavement themselves were still releasing records that surprised even their most ardent fans and the types of critics who might fall back on that comparison nowadays were still trying to catch up to the people they were supposed to be schooling (Tall Dwarfs who? 1/2 Japanese what?) Like his first solo album McAulay’s lyrics vary from the childlike naïveté of someone like Daniel Johnston or Jad Fair to the melancholy, observational narration of Lou Reed to the caffeinated wonderment of Jonathan Richman having the time of his life. If every song on this record represented a different day in the life of this guy, Charles Douglas, you’d have a pretty good idea of who he his, what he relates to, what makes him happy and what makes him sad. While McAulay undoubtedly wears his influences on his sleeve on this record, as Charles Douglas he’s created a character with a wide range of emotions all with the perfect soundtrack behind them. In a lot of ways, it’s a perfect pop record that’s familiar enough to draw you in and unique enough to draw you in even further.
McAulay released one more record under the Charles Douglas name in 2004 called “Statecraft” that’s probably the most polished sounding of the three both stylistically and production-wise. I can’t say there’s any one song on it that sticks with me as much as those on “The Lives..” If “Burdens of Genius” is the scrappy Freshman album and “The Lives..” is it’s slightly more together Sophomore, “Statecraft” might be the Junior that finally has his shit together and thinks he has his whole Senior year figured out before dropping out and changing schools. McAulay doesn’t seem to be active in music anymore and moved on to being both an accomplished author and now a Hollywood screenwriter. The past decade has seen reissues of his first two Charles Douglas records on vinyl as well as a 2xCD expanded edition of “Statecraft” and a 2xCD compilation of demos which is a great companion to “The Lives of Charles Douglas.” album itself.
