Album Reviews
JAM – Florida’s Music Magazine – by Eric Snider
After the tragedy, after the shock, after the news accounts, the obits, there is, thankfully, the music – and in the case of For Squirrels, the music is extremely good.
In case you haven’t heard, For Squirrels is the Gainesville band that lost two members – singer/songwriter Jack Vigliatura and bassist Bill White (along with road manager Tim Bender) – in a car crash on September 8, about a month before the release of Example, their major-label debut.
The disc’s presence on stores shelves is certainly bittersweet, especially when you consider that Example has all of the earmarks of a contender. Although the surviving members, guitarist Travis Tooke and drummer Jack Griego, have reportedly said they intend to keep For Squirrels going, the question remains: Will the industry embrace a band whose future is in doubt?
They should. Because if, in the end, it is about the music, then Example deserves its shot.
The 10 songs show an uncommon maturity for a band whose guitarist and bassist first picked up their instruments a few years ago at the University of Florida, and then joined up with Vigliatura and goofed their way through open mic shows for about a year. Drummer Griego, at 28 the oldest member, brings a sense of rhythm refinement that adds to the band’s overall tightness.
Unlike most bands that fall under the “alternative” rubric, For Squirrels show considerable range. They’re not exclusively thrashers nor janglers nor three-cord punk-rockers, although aspects of all those inform the music. You can hear elements of early R.E.M., The Beatles, The Who, and more modern stuff like Smashing Pumpkins, but For Squirrels definitely emerges as its own band.
Ultimately, the key factor is the songs. The group exhibits a flair for writing fully rendered melodies that succeed in the ever-crucial catchiness department. The tunes aren’t just built around hooky little fragments, but exhibit smooth transitions from versus to choruses, broke up at times by effective bridges and brief instrumental interludes. “Disenchanted” is irrepressible. Beginning with a plaintive acoustic strum and Vigliatura’s low, breathy vocals, the song builds into a lovely sway. The passionate chorus is buoyed by corrosive guitars, and the song rises into to a delicious crescendo. The track most ready for rock radio is the opener, “8:02 PM,” where buzz saw guitars are punctuated by short shards of feedback.
The tart vocal harmonies propel yet another infectious melody.
It’s clear that considerable care was put into the sequencing of the album. “8:02” is followed by the gentle “Orangeworker,” in which Vigliatura waxes nostalgic about farmers around the small New England town where he spent his childhood. “Under Smithville,” breezy, but tough, gives way to the ska-punked slugfest, “Long Live the King.” Elsewhere, “Eskimo Sandune,” is positively wistful, with its gauzy guitar and dreamy melody, along with little psychedelic flourishes like a backward guitar solo and a touch of warped organ at the end. “Superstar,” which examines both the appeal and silliness of rock stardom, is built on a big, trudging rock beat. Here, Vigliatura lets loose with some hair-raising shrieks.
Although not a gifted singer in the conventional sense, Vigliatura delivers a lot of different textures and emotional clout, from a seductive drone, to a ragged spew, to a serviceable falsetto. Although some of the lyrics are imbued with a dark sensibility, this is no bunch of money shoe-gazers or angrier-than-though sneerers. There’s a sense of positivism and redemption that pervades the words (some of which are indecipherable due to the lack of a lyric sheet) that one can only hope spills over into the lives, and after-lives, of For Squirrels.
FOCUS Entertainment Magazine – by Jessica Ashton
The first single to be released to radio is this disc’s opening number, “8:02,” an impatient jam with an underlying heavy dose of crunching guitars and a sense of anticipation. The song is about the two minutes that seem like forever when you are waiting for something important (in this case, a date) and it’s late. It’s easy to listen to, but in this reviewer’s opinion, not as memorable as some of the band’s lighter, nostalgic, pop-roots tunes such as “Orangeworker” and the wonderful “Disenchanted.” Unfortunately, “Disenchanted” will no doubt rarely, if ever, enter the hallowed halls of radio rotation because it’s just too damn long at 6:44.
The punked-out “Long Live the King” is an arrhythmic attitude song about being pissed off when life hands you something that’s just not fair. It’s controlled noise overlaid Vigliatura’s smooth croons. “Superstar” uses loud guitar work and more than a hint of sarcasm in this tongue-in-cheek tribute to Mick Jagger and the whole concept of being a rock superstar.
The 10 songs left behind by the original For Squirrels provide a good mix for the ears – heavy on the guitars here, a simple acoustic sound and pleasing bass line there. For Squirrels can sound like STP or the Rembrandts, depending on which track you start with. Although Vigliatura’s vocals are too prominent on a couple of songs, stick with it to the end. Example is a good one and will at least be interesting to have in the collection for comparison if the group gets revamped.
Rolling Stone Magazine – by Rob O’Connor
Death is a known commodity of rock immortality. You can’t personally ask Presley, Hendrix, Morrison, Joplin or Cobain, but their estates bear out the truth. Death – the more tragic the better – is good for business. So what happens when a modest Gainesville, Fla., quartet loses two members and a tour manager in a highway accident on the eve of its first major-label release? They hire a new bassist, while their guitarist, Travis Tooke, assumes the vocal duties; a fund is established to help pay medical bills; and rockers such as Pearl Jam, Metallica, Aerosmith, R.E.M., U2 and L7 contribute memorabilia and artwork to be auctioned off. And the album For Squirrels completed before the accident is accorded, a weight it was never intended to carry.
Example is a youthful, naïve effort that was meant to be For Squirrels’ official entry into the ever-expanding ‘90s alternative-rock sweepstakes. It shows a young band with a sworn allegiance to R.E.M.; about half the songs resonate with the same moody introspection of Fables of the Reconstruction and Life’s Rich Pageant. The comparisons between Michael Stipe’s early marble-mouth delivery and Jack Vigliatura’s own atmospheric whine are unavoidable; match it with Tooke’s Peter Buck-like jangle, and you’ve got a large shadow looming.
The other tunes have less stately pacing, and they’re often jumpy in their vigor, with blasts of feedback and aimless yelling at the songs’ close. The definite stylistic shifts reflect a band that is still in its formative stages, trying on different styles. The most successful one is the flowing melody and enveloping harmonies of “Mighty K.C.” Written in remembrance of Kurt Cobain, it now reads as Vigliatura’s own epitaph: “By the grace of God go I/Into the great unknown/Things are going to change in our favor.”
What happened to For Squirrels is even sadder than the tragedy that struck the Gin Blossoms, whose main songwriter, Doug Hopkins, committed suicide after he was kicked out of the band. For Squirrels lost more than three people; they lost their chance at being remembered as something other than the band whose members died before they even had a chance.
The Weekend – Tampa Bay’s Entertainment Guide – by Eric Deggans
“When this disc plopped on my desk, only a few weeks had passed since half the band was killed in an auto wreck. Like many other critics, I assumed that meant the death of the record, too. Fortunately, that Florida-bred band had left a legacy of sound that wouldn’t easily pass from view. Listen to their tribute for fallen Nirvana leader Kurt Cobain, Mighty K.C., and you’ll hear a host of death references that seem all too eerie now, backed by churning, R.E.M.-style guitars and expressive vocals from now-deceased lead singer John “Jack” Vigliatura. Much of Example plays out similarly. Straightforward rockers like 8:02 P.M. and the slightly syncopated Superstar feel like a healthy dose of R.E.M. energized with an unbridled, punky energy. It’s not until the heavy-jerky breakneck groove of Long Live the King, that the band leaves its influences behind, creating a unique blend of hardcore spirit and skin-tight playing that hinted at greater things to come.
For Squirrels Provide a Rocking Example Par Excellence – Jason Heindl of The Amherst Student
On Friday, Sept. 8, 1995, tragedy struck. Upon completion of a small tour of the Northeast that cultivated with a packed show at New York’s CBGB’s, For Squirrels were heading home to Gainesville, Florida for a month-long respite before the release of their major-label debut, Example. A few minutes after 4 p.m. near Savannah, Georgia, the band’s small white tour van lost control, flipping three times before coming to a halt more than 100 feet from the beginning of the accident. Tim Bender, the band’s road manger and unofficial fifth member, vocalist Jack Vigliatura and bassist Bill White all died instantly. Drummer Jack Griego broke his neck, from which is he recovery well, and guitarist Travis Took escaped with only minor physical damage.
The history of For Squirrels is much like the history of every other ‘next big thing.’ Tooke, Vigliatura and White were best friends throughout high school and upon matriculation to the University of Florida, they decided to buy some guitars and learn the craft. The band began playing university house parties, with their set list comprised of mostly covers of Pixies’ and They Might Be Giants’ tunes. Soon the word was out: For Squirrels had something special.
They band was a sure crowd-pleaser, much to the disdain of Gainesville’s local music scene. The problem, as the scenesters saw it, was that the group wasn’t underground, wasn’t punk, wasn’t indie. For Squirrels was upbeat, fun pop. Regardless, 1993 saw the band’s first independent release, Baypath Road, with every copy being sold, forcing the release of the Plymouth EP. Having found its musical in old-school R.E.M. and southern-flavored guitar rock, For Squirrels was a band few would soon forget.
Indeed, less than a year later the band had been signed to a contract with Sony 550, the result of which is Example, a hauntingly accurate and eerily coincidental presentation of the band’s road to fortune and the obstacles that lay in the way. In hindsight, the album’s overwhelmingly positive and patient, yet cautious and questioning, lyrics are frightingly descriptive of For Squirrels’ rise and fall.
The first single, ‘Superstar,’ rings in with a classic modern rock guitar and drum rumble, mockingly reminiscent for the ‘90s buzz clip sound. Having come a long way since emulating Black Francis and Joey Santiago, Tooke’s highly electric melody and Vigliatura’s rabid vocals catch the listeners attention with their fierce attack and determined cynicism. The album’s lyrics abound with religious influence, and ‘Superstar’ is no exception. ‘Here I come with a little bit of help/ Over you with a little bit of help/ Because I’m a superstar,’ sings Vigliatura, emphasizing the band’s acknowledgment and insistence that their success comes from more than their talent.
The single’s B-side, ‘The Immortal Dog and Pony Show,’ has a more mellow jangle and bass-driven heartbeat. As the title suggests, ‘The Immortal Dog and Pony Show’ reflects the band’s initial fear of stardom, and the possible alienation that inflated egos may bring. Singing from the point of view of the hollowed-out and lifeless rock star, Vigliatura describes his own peril: ‘I am a dog and pony/ I am finding out about you/ Has it come and gone so quickly?/ The dog and pony/ Come on and tell me I am grand/ I am gone.’
Echoing the religious sentiment of ‘Superstar’ is “Mighty K.C.,’ partially referencing Kurt Cobain. ‘And by the grace of God go I/Into the great unknown/ Things are gonna change/ In our favor,’ emotes Vigliatura, with White helping out on backing vocals and a perfect R.E.M.-styled light guitar interlude. What’s interesting with these lyrics is that, while Vigliatura originally meant for the great unknown to be the world of rock and roll, in light of recent events the lyrics become even more appropriate.
The poppiest song on the album is ‘Under Smithville,’ and upbeat and cleverly written song with lyrics on relationships between friends. With a guitar riff that could easily have been lifted from R.E.M.’s Document, Tooke and Vigliatura interact perfectly for a beautiful , peppy jangle-and-dance tune. The pace of the song and the lyrics make for a perfect single-along. ‘I am feeling so grand/ Tell me now do you think I am?/ … Way down under the playground/ Hold on, I can’t hold for long/ Please don’t bury me … It’s a little bit harder just to hold your hand.’
The most explicit description of the band’s tour comes with the dragging ‘Disenchantment.’ After asking, ‘After all of your setups and letdowns/ After all of your cities in bags/ Will we ever drink milk from a fountain,’ Vigliatura insists, ‘I will never bow to the ages/ I will never let down my God/ As for nothing and you get what you pay for/ I’ve got pride instead/ I don’t mind/I don’t need much at all.’ This, along with the majestic, and occasionally melodramatic accompaniment, sums up the band’s existence. For Squirrels are the real thing, sincere and unadultered.
Although the recent tragedy has shattered the structural integrity of the band, the vitality of the music will never die down. For Squirrels never set out to conquer the world; they set out to conquer themselves and have fun doing it. With their faith in God and our faith in their songs, For Squirrels is a band that will never die. Final thoughts appended to the story of For Squirrels can only be those of Baypath Road’s ‘Plymouth.’ ‘Free, I’m free.’”