Lost in the Wreckage #1
Rob Laufer / Faith
This is the first in a continuing series of posts about great songs that should have risen to a recognizable height, a level of public awareness that, if not widely extensive, at least active in the arena, not relegated to the rarely heard hidden realms of the music world. Slipped through, lost in the wreckage and chaos of this branded bum steer world.
Ok, you say, but intense competition is just the reality of being a musician and greatness will rise despite the odds - in fact, because of them, right?
Wrong. All kinds of X factors are at play. What if The Beatles didn’t get hooked up with George Martin? What if The Beatles hadn’t broken up, would Led Zep have been as huge? “Louie Louie” became a giant hit largely because of the mishearing of its lyrics, teens thinking they were ‘dirty.’ Chance abounds in the world of hit songs.
Rob Laufer in one such artist who deserves a much much wider audience than he has. He scored a hit with a song from the 2010 family comedy movie, Ramona and Beezus, “How I Love You.” It’s a great song, heartfelt and breezy.
The Iron Age is Laufer’s best album. It contains, tangentially, the other ‘hit’ song, “In the Frame,” that was helped mightily by the HP Frames picture technology commercial. The other song in the advertising campaign was “Picture Book,” by The Kinks, so he was in very company.
His first album, Wonderwood, (his second best album) contains the song, “Reactionary Girl,” which Robin Zander of Cheap Trick covered on his solo record. Also from that record, “Do You Fly in Your Dreams,” is irresistible pop/rock that got some airplay but should have been a radio smash.
Laufer’s been hovering around that big recognition I was talking about for years, but only getting snatches of it. Hey, in such an absurd world as this is, such glimpses of wide success are nothing to sneeze at.
Laufer appears to be a content individual, keeping quite busy, thank you, as the musical director/singer/guitarist of The Wild Honey Orchestra, a changing amalgamation of Los Angeles area musicians, who play live recreations of the music of The Lovin’ Spoonful, Buffalo Springfield, The Beatles, Harry Nillson, The Kinks and others. Members have included Susanna Hoffs, Peter Holsapple, Ira Kaplan, Eliot Easton, Syd Straw, Al Jardine, Mickey Dolenz, Denny Lane, among the slew of luminaries who’ve joined in. The ongoing project benefits autism research. There are videos in YouTube and the music is spectacular.
But here’s the thing. At the same time, Rob Laufer is one of our great singer/songwriter/musicians. He belongs in a top tier - I’m not going to draw comparisons, but he should be way up high in the rankings.
As evidence, I submit the song Faith, from the 2010 album Excruciating Bliss, link from YouTube.
Lyrics You can put your faith in the wind or someone your refer to as him and pray to protect your ship from wreck and your suit of broken bones though never may you peek, forever will you seek isn’t it enough just to be alive? keep us through the night keep us through the night you can pack your song in a case and sending it flying deep into space and trust that every word will someday be heard even if you're dead and gone a universe in awe, the vacuum will applaud and somewhere you’ll be taking your bow keep us through the night keep us through the night and you will place your trust in a friend or a spirit your can’t touch or defend and pray that song to carry you along even when your voice is hurt and lost keep us through the night keep us through the night keep us through the night keep us through the night
A underlying spiritual theme is found in all of Laufer’s work. This song is as strong and deep a prayer of faith as we have in popular song. To me, it approaches the questioning voice in the poetry of the Psalms. It acknowledges the fragility of this thing, the fact that your prayer may never become manifest in your lifetime, a statement personally poignant to Laufer, a reaction to his own less than deserved recognition, reflected in the second verse. The simple chorus, “Keep us through the night,” has the double meaning of allowing us to wake to another day, and helping us weather the darkness that so often covers the world. It’s a transcendent belief being talked about here, its source to be found in the universe itself. It isn’t necessarily religion in a traditional sense, though it could very well be. Why do we do what we do if it all disappears? Laufer is saying it doesn’t. What you do is etched into forever, somewhere.
As great a song of belief in its own way as McCartney’s “Let It Be,” and, I would say, deeper.