Unflinching and moving lo-fi recordings focusing on personal struggles.
The cover of The Quaint & the Curious’s latest album, entitled ‘Most of my Problems are all in my Head‘, comprises an illustration of several tiny devil-like figures attacking various parts of a man’s head. It’s actually an advertisement from the 1860s for Wolcott’s Instant Pain Annihilator, a popular 19th century US quack medicine, containing ethyl alcohol and opium which, according to the manufacturers, would soothe a range of different pains. The potion was heavily promoted during the American Civil War as being an elixir for those suffering during the conflict.
This album is very much a case of being able to judge a record by its cover. As Taff Thatcher, the man behind the band says, “This album was mostly written during the summer of 2023 in a weird time where I was trying to suppress a lot of anxiety while catastrophizing about the mundane worries of everyday life.” The recordings were made in a series of sessions over a two year period. They’re distinctly lo-fi but that only adds to the charm and beauty of the record.
‘Sad & Beautiful‘ is the first of 10 songs, and it sets the tone of what’s to come, it’s earnest heart on your sleeve stuff. The sound is that of a home recording, but it’s warm and “intentionally scruffy” as Thatcher puts it. In ‘It’s all Come Undone‘ Thatcher says that ‘I don’t want to bore you with my petty paranoia‘ but you can feel the mental burden underneath the fuzzy and sometimes buzz saw like guitar.
‘Don’t Read My Mind‘ commences with some beautifully finger picked guitar. It’s a song in which the main protagonist is struggling with his self worth imploring his friend that he’s ‘not worthy of their time‘ and to ‘Just leave this sad old man behind.‘ ‘Bad Days‘ is the first track to provide some hope with the lines ‘Bad days can make great nights‘ and ‘Bad mornings can make great days.‘ ‘I’ve Found a Key‘ is another song with a picked guitar riff to the fore, it also has some fine layered harmonies. But is it the key to contentment or something more ominous as Thatcher sings ‘I’ve found a key, it means nothing to me, No lock no chain no memory‘, it’s never clear.
The album ends with ‘Pray for Peace‘. The song starts with a minute and a half of guitar drones with a metronomic beat in the background. It sounds like Thatcher is not only yearning for a balm for his personal troubles but also the world’s ones. There’s something moving about this epic song, which clocks in at almost six and a half minutes, it’s an appropriate end to things.
Thatcher may well have described the contents of this album as “sad bastard music“, however, amongst the angst there are glimmers of hope. The original publicity for Wolcott’s pain potion also shows the man, having taken the medicine, banishing his demons and regaining his health. Hopefully this record will have brought Thatcher, as well as those who listen to it, some respite from their troubles, just like Instant Pain Annihilator did for the person on the poster.
