Growing pains

Puddle remind us why we hated those teenage years

by John O'Neill

After five years, two well-received full-length releases, and four line-up changes (all bass players), Puddle continue to operate in relative obscurity, even within the confines of a cozy Worcester scene. As a band who often slipped through the cracks of a limited club scene (too loud and fast for most venues, never able to book gigs steadily enough to develop a core audience), Puddle were the smartest original local band of the early and mid '90s who few had heard of -- and even fewer had seen. Critics fawned, the lucky cheered, and everyone else shrugged.

But with the growing popularity of all-ages shows in recent years and the advent of the Space, Espresso Bar, and Marley's, the wind appears to be finally blowing in Puddle's direction. And while the future may not be halogen-bright, the band are on the eve of releasing a new CD that will increase their stock considerably as an important creative force.

Loner (Apostrophe) may be the most ambitious album to be released by a Worcester band and, though slightly flawed, will ultimately stand as one of the truly great releases to emanate from this city. Written chiefly by Puddle's front-man and guitarist, Dave Parent, as a concept album, Loner is actually a thinly veiled autobiographical account, detailing the pain and confusion of a sensitive, misunderstood kid facing adulthood.

Originally written in 1992, during Puddle's earliest days, the album was a slow train coming that almost never arrived. "From the time I first started showing the songs till the finish is almost two years. I had problems from day one," Parent recalls. "[Bass player] Greg Olson left, and the band almost broke up because of me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue without him, but Tom [drummer Tom Woundy] said `I still want to do this.' So we got Scott Lee to play bass." But just as the band were set to record, Lee departed. Parent spent five days learning the bass parts himself. "We were really vulnerable going into the studio," he says, "really down on ourselves."

But once in the studio (they recorded at Tremolo Lounge, in West Boylston), the band found a steadying hand in engineer Roger LaVallee. "Roger helped direct the way the bass was played. He did some things with distortion without telling us, and things worked out great."

The result is well worth the wait. Parent's 14 songs of sonic confession blister with the same distortion-heavy guitar and crashing drums synonymous with Puddle's earlier releases, . . . And They All Begin with `A' (1994) and Dricket (1996). In his impassioned talk/sing style Parent tells the story of a kid who is being smothered under the roof of a parent, unsure of himself and unsure of the future. Starting with the encompassing "Through Our Whole Lives," and a character study, "Loner," Parent sets the stage for a progression of songs that takes a young man from slacker boredom and small-town hopelessness ("Routine," "Got a Feeling") through myriad dysfunctional relationships -- always exploring how one bad relationship affects the next ("Never Knew Any Other Way," "The Truth, The Lie & The Separation Between the Two") -- to the inevitable climax where he claims his life and moves forward, despite uncertainty.

Although there is an abundance of songs that point the finger, they are offset and underscored by Parent's ceaseless self-evaluation, which brings him to the conclusion that ultimately the Loner is equally accountable for his state of being. And though some of the lyrics border on trite (no more so than Paula Cole's or Duncan Shiek's), they are saved from crossing that fine line into pompous crapolla by Parent's unflinching self-awareness and honesty; it's painfully personal.

Loner is a coming-of-age album for every kid who stayed in his room and listened to music while everyone else went to the party, or who stood in the corner staring into his beer when finally invited. Parent speaks to those of us who hung around at the corner, under the street light, convinced that life was east of nowhere and west of nothing. It's a plea for acceptance, an apology to former lovers, and a kiss-off to the past while keeping a hopeful eye turned toward the future. We've all been there, and Loner serves as a reminder.

Puddle will pack it in after one more album is recorded. "The band is not my life," says Parent with a small smile. "I've been waiting to do this all my life, and it's still important to get these songs out. I just don't think of it as a career anymore. I've got a fiancé -- and a job I can tolerate. I'm not as angry . . . I'm content." And with that the Loner picked up his jacket and walked out into the world.