However, I didn’t grow up around the Dream Syndicate, and it’s quite possible the New York Dolls were as mother’s milk to them. It was obvious enough that they’d at least spent some time listening to the Velvet Underground. That rarely has done anyone any harm, although (not unlike LSD) what you get out of VU-exposure depends on what sort of mind you have in the first place. Most of these bands would fling the name around, and then you’d give them a listen and be inevitably disappointed If they had been influenced by the VU it usually meant that they’d picked up on the worst, most annoying/superficial tendencies of that band while falling far short of the substance or even the sound.

That was my gut reaction the first few times I played Days of Wine and Roses, along with a certain annoyance at the way they were being positioned as “the new VU,” which was just as deadly as being “the new Dylan” had been to scores of careers ten years previous. (I can’t wait for “the new U2,” myself.) The band pix on the back of the LP had the guys looking like they'd just been microwaved. Plus which there was the droogy blue pastel rectangle that comprised their album cover. I’ve seen better graphics on tissue boxes. Generic tissue boxes. The idea behind the minimalist school of album-cover art (and it is a good one) is that there should be nothing to distract you from the music. (I can’t wait for “the minimalist school of hype,” myself.)

No such luck. The opening tune, “Tell Me When It’s Over,” would have fit perfectly on the first True West album, so if you like that you’ll love them--but so busy was I waiting to hear the vaunted “new VU” that I didn’t even notice a perfectly creditable True West impersonation (better to be True West than Mae West) even when it was right under my nose. There was a smidgen of Lou in the vocals, to be sure, but nothing on the order of even Gordon Gano of the Violent Femmes--if Lou Reed was a swig of rum, then Steve Wynn was just a bite of rum cake.

So I didn’t play the album again for some years. Random desperation (needed something to play in the car that wouldn’t cause me to have a hissy if the tape got eaten) made me dig it out again, and with fresh ears I heard the glory of “Tell Me When It’s Over” for the first time. From there...well, an acquired taste, but eventually I acquired it. In fact, there was a month or more back in ’94 when I would play this album at least once a day--particularly at 4 a.m. in the middle of nowhere, driving at 80mph. It helped me get home faster. And while it’s a thoroughly early-80s product, nary a viola in sight (and only an occasional drone), at its most aggressive it’s nearly as visceral as the brunt of White Light/White Heat, which will live forever. Days of Wine and Roses could never hope to top WL/WH, though, nor will it live forever. There are many reasons for that, and only one of them is that it’s far too clean of a recording.

Still, it gets an extra ten points for having the (once and future) Pop Girl of ’86, Kendra Smith on bass (vocals also on one tune). Check out anything that has her name on it. Only some of it’s in print and I’m not selling my copies; but if you can, check out Opal. Check out Guild of Temporal Adventurers. Check out Five Ways of Disappearing, even. If you live near a mall there’s a checkout line near you. As for the Dream Syndicate (who were so hip they named themselves after one of John Cale’s pre-VU involvements. I’m so hip I’ve met Tony Conrad--he was picketing LaMonte Young at the time. You’re so hip you’re still reading this.), they survived the new-VU hype to make...well, other good albums I suppose. Medicine Show was tamer, vaguely Stonesy and it sounded damn good in fact, and though I “liked” it better when I heard it, I never bought it. I’m perverse that way sometimes.

So, the band eventually split and commenced various bargain-binned solo projects and Steve Wynn seems like a really nice guy. So get down to the mall and buy!