Interiors (Greg Prato, www.miaminewtimes.com 25th Sept 1997)
Along with tribute albums, side projects have become prevalent to the point of cliche in the Nineties. Composed of overcooked egos and half-baked musical ideas, most of these projects collapse under the weight of their own indulgence. Brad is a worthy exception, a quartet that plays its urgent brand of melodic rock as if it's been on the road for years. Formed back in 1992 as a one-shot project, the band is anchored by guitarist Stone Gossard, who longed to play a looser brand of pop than his Pearl Jam bandmates would brook. He recruited folk-rocker Jeremy Toback (bass) and Satchel members Shawn Smith (vocals/piano) and Regan Hagar (drums), then put out a thrilling debut album.That record, Shame, was quickly forgotten. Amid the upsurge of Pearl Jam, Gossard was forced to rejoin his regular band, but he didn't forget about Brad. Last year the foursome recorded a second album, Interiors, a collaborative effort that packs all the emotive wallop of a Pearl Jam record with about half the bombast."Those Three Words" opens with the slinky synth bass line that Prince has always used to such great effect; it bubbles along to Hagar's Latin-tinged percussion. Midway through it takes a sharp left into progressive rock, with Gossard providing a nicely restrained guitar solo and Smith following suit on his dreamy Moog synthesizer. Between its title and tempo, "Funeral Song" qualifies as a dirge, with Smith whispering his melancholy lyrics over a minor-key melody and flourishes of flute. "The Day Brings" calls to mind Elton John in his prime, with Smith tinkling at his piano and belting in a tenor seemingly born to deliver epic ballads. His growly work on "Secret Girl" reveals him to be equally adept at anthems. Indeed, Smith is the big surprise on this record. Ably supported by his mates, particularly Gossard, whose leads shimmer throughout, Smith proves that the Seattle scene can produce more than angst-ridden yelpers. His vocals soar on a wing that isn't wounded but triumphant. And this time around fans will have a chance to see for themselves. With Pearl Jam off the road for the moment, Brad will tour to support Interiors. Let's hope Gossard never returns to that day job.
Interiors (David Roberts, 'Q' Magazine dated July 1998)
1993's debut album, Shame, from this band of occasional collaborators (Pearl Jam's Stone Gossard on guitar plus vocalist Shawn Smith, bassist Jeremy Toback and drummer Regan Hagar from Satchel) was a minor classic which spawned an unlikely Top 40 hit with 20th Century. Unfortunately, the exquisite blend of melancholy, longing and awe that distinguished that first LP is approximated only fitfully this time around.This is a real shame, because when Smith's teasing, tremulous vocal is given the musical backing it deserves - as on The Day Brings, with its rolling piano riff, twirling melody and edgy, expressive guitar, and the addictive, delightfully wan Some Never Come Home - the results are near-perfect moments of thrilling, stark beauty.
Interiors (Joshua Sindell Phoenix New Times Online 19/06/97)
Like the first Brad album, 1993's Shame, Interiors is music as comfortably creased as your favorite jeans, snug and familiar. Shawn Smith has an uncommonly naked voice, his falsetto utterly lissome and unguarded. With a sound smooth, thick and sweet--with Brad as well as every album on which he's performed (he's also a member of the similar-sounding but rather meandering Satchel and the artsy-fartsy Pigeonhed)--it ennobles Interiors' proceedings to the very highest levels of rock. It can be the rescuing buoy in a sea of roiling guitars, played by Pearl Jam's Stone Gossard, on "Sweet Al George" or "Secret Girl"; the sweet scent of life on the mellower tracks (such as the jaw-droppingly beautiful "Some Never Come Home," a tear-jerker Simon and Garfunkel never imagined); or your insistent conscience on the bluesy cuts that resolutely seeps in despite your best efforts.These performances are uniformly wonderful: Native Angeleno Jeremy Toback's bass (notably the nimble runs on "Circle & Line") pumps warm blood through the tissues of Gossard's determined strumming; it's as gentle and seductive a groove as anything L.A. folk-rock mulched in the '70s. Since there's a heavy dollop of Smith's piano in the mix, Interiors often recalls the frou-frou patterns of Carole King's Tapestry, but it's never as cloying or precious. Other influences run rampant, too, from the heavier Traffic-Gap Band collision of "Those Three Words" to the shuffle of "The Day Brings" (reminiscent of Paul McCartney's "For No One") that'd make Lowell George two-step if he was still around. There are the great yawning chasms of sound of the melodic and soothing "Lift"; the unholy rolling stomp you'd find in the Zeppelin house of "Sweet Al George"; the organ- and cello-drenched solemnity of "Upon My Shoulders." The whole album rises and falls with the inevitability of the human intake and outtake of breath. Magic music, all; it's the best thing Gossard's appeared on, well, since the last Brad album.Counting Crows' baleful playing has given this breed of wood-grained music a truly awful rep; you'd sooner listen to your car's radiator overheat than be forced to endure Adam Duritz's whining ever again. And maybe bands like the Crows and the Crowes have taken fly-by dumps on this sweet, sweet music's form for too long, damaging its name irreparably. All Brad can attempt is to create these lovely sounds in the gray expanse up there in Seattle and rejoice in the fact that the spotlight has dimmed slightly. The rest of us may have to squint a bit harder to seek them out, but it only makes rewards like Interiors that much sweeter.
Interiors
(James P. Wisdom, www.pitchforkmedia.com)
I thought it was a nightmare, then it turned out to be reality. I dreamed
that freedom- rock had made a retro- reference comeback and that indie-
pop bands were starting to reflect the sounds of David Crosby's pre- prison
days and Neil Young's pre- burnout days. Brash young fellas with Nikes
and NBA hats were twanging their guitars and slowing down the rock to
cry "Freedom!" Oh God! The horror! The horror!
It turns out I had just left Brad's Interiors playing while I slept. Perhaps Stone Gossard had been infected by the free- dumb rock movement when his other band, Pearl Jam, had been working with Young, but that still doesn't explain vocalist Shawn Smith's likeness to the delicate warblings of the Graham Nash of long ago.
In any case, Interiors is 11 tracks of mildly retro-sound, with a few passable songs, the rest being simply crap. Despite no shortage of trying, I cannot rationalize the inclusion of "I Don't Know," "Upon My Shoulders" or "Funeral Song," all gut- wrenchingly bad dirges better suited for the memorable Hell's Angels funeral of Old Eddie than in my CD player (or yours). If you must cry Freedom!, try Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young's Deja Vu on for size, and leave this in the bargain bin.
Interiors (John Bitzer, CDNOW REVIEW June 25, 1997)
"The Day Brings"It's somewhat astounding that Shawn Smith is still not a star. Smith possesses a gift of a voice, a fact that his friends know all too well: in addition to singing in Brad, he also fronts fellow Seattle projects Satchel and Pigeonhed, and occasionally sings backup with the Afghan Whigs. Smith's broad pipes and reedy falsetto -- not to mention that little soulful something extra -- carry this album as far as it can go, which is still not far enough for all the talent here (Brad is a side project -- on their second album -- that includes Pearl Jam's Stone Gossard, singer/ songwriter Jeremy Toback, and Satchel drummer Regan Hagar). Like Satchel, Brad shines on slow, wrenching ballads like "The Day Brings," "Upon My Shoulders," and "Some Never Come Home." When Gossard pushes the guitar riffs -- which is far too often -- it breaks the mood, clutters the sonic spell, and drags the band into normalcy. This could've been so much more.