Fictionist REPEATER album review
In late 2010 I was in a frozen yogurt shop (how era-appropriate) in St. George, Utah called Krave. It was over off the Boulevard just before you get to Bluff, long-gone by now. At that point, Gen X’ers were opening businesses that hoped to appeal to the just coming-of-age millenials, such as myself. One of the settled on decor strategies was encouraging your customers to vandalize your establishment in the form of “chalk boards” and “sticker walls”. At the Krave frozen yogurt store, they had a “sticker coffee table” and as I sat eating an overpriced and frankly quite disgusting “froyo”, I noticed a sticker that had this picture on it (recreated from my memory):
“Huh, interesting looking thing”, I thought to myself.
A few months later, it just so happened that I was working for a local cell phone retailer in Lubbock, Texas and the stores were dead. I’m talking I’d open and close the store by myself, a 10 hour shift, and not a single customer would walk through the door. If one did, it was usually to make a cash payment in the realm of $20. Being a young minimum-wage worker, I spent my time very wisely by watching a ton of movies on Amazon, browsing the internet (shoutout chipmusic.org), and just plain noodlin’ around. One day, in my 8th continual hour of looking at “Advice Animal” memes, some words became inscribed in my prefrontal cortex:
What the heck is “Fictionist Lasting Echo”?
What happened next isn’t entirely clear to me. I remember buying the album digitally on Amazon, the first time I’d ever done that. This was pre-spotify, people were still buying music on iTunes. I became obsessed. I listened constantly, continually. It was like nothing I’d ever heard before, it was like perfect music.
You still won’t find the album on spotify, or any other streaming platform. I’m happy to share a personal link shared by the band on their Instagram page↗ .
Fictionist is a band based out of the Provo, Utah area. Settled by Mormon Pioneers in the mid-1800’s, Provo is home to The Church of Jesus Christ’s flagship university: Brigham Young University (BYU). Because of the school’s enforced “honor code”, drinking alcohol and other recreational drug use is forbidden and violations carry a heavy consequence. Ask any disgruntled former student their opinion on the “honor code” and you’ll get a mouthful, I’m sure. Despite it’s criticisms, this results in Provo being a “university town” unlike most. There are no massive tailgate parties with every weekend football game, leaving a trail of empty cans and trash. The effect bleeds over to the local entertainment and music scene - no “college bars”, one of the most popular places in town is a restaurant that has board games to play while you eat. The music scene is no different.
Opened in 2006 by the now-legendary Corey Fox, “Velour Live Music Gallery”, more casually known as The Velour, is “an all-ages music venue” and a “smoking and alcohol free environment”. It’s a bit hard to articulate how bizarre that bit really is. Sure, there are venues out there that are “straight-edge”, or otherwise “sober”, but more often than not those kind of acts play at places like Veteran’s Halls, community centers, and elsewhere. Why is that? Because they can’t make money without selling alcohol. The economics just don’t work out. But The Velour is different. Corey runs it completely independently - there are no logos or sponsors above the door. I have it on good authority that he owns the building outright.
So what’s going on in Provo that allows a music venue that literally only sells live music to not only survive the recession and the pandemic, but thrive? The Velour has produced bands out of Utah that have gone pretty far - both Neon Trees and Imagine Dragons call The Velour home. In fact, on a given Friday night, I bet you can find members of those bands there playing, or listening to their friends play. We all pay $12.50 to get in. Re-entry is no problem. Parking is free and plentiful and crime is non-existent so you don’t even have to worry about it. You won’t find alcohol for sale for a few hundred yards at least, maybe further.
I have a theory that I’d like to suggest: when everyone in the audience is sober, young, and attentive, the music has to be on a level most live music never is, at least at the scale The Velour operates on. Yes, I am saying music at The Velour sounds better because the bar is simply higher. The only motivation anyone has for being there is to either play music, or more likely to hear some live music. It’s a small place - maybe 300 if you really packed the place. Shows start around 8 or 9 and always get out by 11, I’m not sure if they’re even allowed to go later.
As a young student, husband, and father, I’d often find myself down at The Velour. I commuted on a 1979 Honda Trail 90 and I could park it right in front, like royalty. I’d stand in the back, up against the wall, soaking in the sound. The bands had strange names I never even really knew. But they always sounded incredible. So many times, I was awestruck at how some regular joes, even sub-regular janes could get up there and absolutely tear the roof off. I’m telling you half these people could hardly tie their shoes in the morning.
As cheesy as it is, the only real answer is magic. That level of sobriety, combined with the level of talent and skill presented, is magic. I’ve been going to shows for a long time and I started noticing something - the more I focus and enjoy the music, the better it gets. For me, I have to close my eyes. I feel so silly about that. I will make my way to the front row and then close my eyes. One way that I open up my heart to the music is to focus on love. I know that sounds so hippy-dippy, but I’m telling you that it works. I think about people I love, why I love them, just really trying to open up my entire heart. And then I think about the music, how much I love it. And then I think about everyone, how I hope that I can love them all as much as I’m supposed to. I try to just open it all up, and when I do, the music gets noticably better. I honestly believe when we open our hearts together in that way we are touched by each other. I can help other people enjoy it more, and I can help the artists open their hearts more to the music being played. That’s what Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead believed too, for whatever that’s worth.
Fictionist formed from the previous Good Morning Maxfield which released a self-titled album in 2007 which is also gone from the internet. I’ve listened to it - it’s good. Fictionist formed around the release of their 2009 Invisible Hand album, it consisted of lead singer, songwriter, and bass player Stuart Maxfield; co-lead guitarist, then-singer/songwriter, Robbie Connolly; co-lead guitarist Brandon Kitterman; drummer Aaron Anderson; keyboardist Jacob Jones. Invisible Hand is also gone from the internet, but it’s good. It’s heavy blues-inspired rock, with a heavy dose of psych/space. My favorite is the nearly 7 minute ending track “Song for B” - an instrumental spaced-out jam right off The Dark Side of the Moon. Having that level of raw talent in a band makes for a great time letting each member let loose solo in and out of each other.
“It was lightning in a bottle” as they say, and Fictionist quickly followed up with 2010’s Lasting Echo. By this time, their talent was no longer ignorable. After competing in a TV show contest, the band signed with Atlantic Records and released a self-titled EP in 2011. The EP is in the running for my favorite overall Fictionist body of work, with Swept Away and Great Escape being contenders for my favorite in their entire catalog. Lucky for you, this baby is alive and streaming on all platforms. You’re welcome.
It was announced the band would be doing some major-label activities such as working with big-time producers from things that you feel kind of bad that you have no idea what they are because it seems like everyone is acting like it’s a really big deal. I guess that didn’t go so well, and in 2014 the band announced they’d reached a mutual agreement to separate with Atlantic Records, including the band retaining ownership of the material they worked on while in the studio with Atlantic. This source is my memory of the band’s Facebook account, but I recall they announced they would be re-working their Atlantic material into a new self-produced and self-titled album.
On October 3, 2014 at a small show that felt more like a homecoming than an album release party, at a small local venue known as The Velour, Fictionist played and released their first full-length album in 4 years. I was at that show, with my wife of a few months, pregnant with our first baby. We actually bought a Fictionist onesie there for him. The album marked a lot of growth for the band. Robbie Connolly began flexing his songwriting and singing chops, being very open in the lyrics on Lock and Key. I have a distinct memory of suddenly realizing I maybe had a small pectoral weight issue when fist pumping to Free Spirit at the show. Shortly after, keyboard player Jacob Jones announced his departure from the band. From personal conversations I’ve had with band members, he was ready to move on and is still on very friendly terms with the band. “Once a Fictionalist always a Fictionalist” as Stuart once said.
I ended up moving up to Provo a few months later, started a really hard school, had a baby, got an internship - all of this was documented more-or-less real time on this website and is still up if you care to go looking for it. I had the chance to see Fictionist play at The Velour as often as they played, and then some. The Provo scene is tight-knit and those guys are always jamming on stage with one act or another.
They toured the album, getting a lot of love from their “more successful” friends. In 2016, they embarked on a last-minute cancelled tour with Neon Trees which included the Free Spirit EP - a nice 4-track with the previously-released Free Spirit and 3 new all-out bangers. We Can Sleep When We Die is supposed to be their college-campus rock anthem, and it is. But I think the realities of being an independent touring musician and trying to move on with life conflicted, and they chose to settle down, get married, have families, and make the music stuff work for that life, instead of the other way around.
Life was moving fast for me by that point. After the dust had settled, they released Sleep Machine in 2017. 10 songs, at 20 minutes. It’s over before it begins in the best way. With singing and songwriting from Connolly, the album feels almost like 3 songs that are happening at the same time - or maybe a fractal explosion on a theme. Lazarus is a highlight for me - blister-paced. If “surf rock” was about surfing the world-wide-web, this is it. As tradition, they commemorated with an album release show at The Velour on May 12 - double-headlining with an act with a full brass orchestra performing Sleep Machine and then another “regular” set. I honestly can’t remember if it was two shows on two days, or if it was one show with two sets. Either way, I was there, and it was really something. After a short tour, the band fell dormant.
Connolly launched a side project Robert Loud, co-founded a synthesizer company, and got a “day job” as the rhythm guitar and keyboard player touring for The Killers. Stu built a home studio and co-founded a stock music library, channeling his output into his S2_cool project (which released the neo-disco “[FLAVOR]” in 2018 that I listened to to the brink of sanity). There were sporadic shows, including this where I am hilariously matching my hair to Stu’s outfit for some reason. But no real Fictionist.
For a band as difficult to be a fan of as Fictionist I have to say I lost my faith. It’s been 7 years. I wondered if the whole Atlantic deal had traumatized the guys to the point they didn’t want to be Fictionist any more. In the down time I took the time to track down used copies of their discography, and shared it with as many people as I could. I never stopped listening to them - their discography is the first thing I download onto my phone.
So you can imagine my shock when one fine March morning upon my porcelain throne, the fact that Fictionist had not only released a new album, but that it had been out for 4 months. Here’s what I sent to the group chat, and at least one person in that chat has keys to a bank vault, so that’s really saying something.
When I say it was released, what I really mean is that it was available for listening, but not on any streaming platforms (or available for purchase in any way). Nonetheless, I consumed it fully. I was late to the party, but not too late - the album release show was in two weeks! My third Fictionist album release show… could it be possible? I’m down in St. George now, and would be out of town for work until Friday. Even if I wanted to go, would I be able to keep my eyes open?
You should surround yourself with the best people, and for me that includes people that might even appreciate Fictionist more than you do. My old band leader and current dad-rock side project co-founder Danny. This guy is a legend, currently “in the ringer” just had his 4th kid and is on (apparently) no sleep. He was willing to go.
After some major embarrassment, turns out the work trip was only until Thursday, not Friday. Flights are easy to change! I’d have a full 24 hour buffer of being home, full night in my own bed, in between the trip and what would be a cannonball run - 4 hours up, the show, 4 hours back in one night. When you’re 20, sure that’s nothing. When you’re a sleep deprived later-30’s-than-is-comfortable-thinking-about-out-loud, it’s a different game. It was a minute-by-minute game plan. I went all-in: “Brother, I’m committed!” If Danny had to bail, I’d sleep on my brother’s floor. I work from home so my kids are not used to me not being home all the time. They literally thought I was abandoning them after being gone for the week.
I had just enough time to slam a couple Al Pastor tacos and then the show started with a Robert Loud set that was absolutely fantastic, featuring two homies from Sego on bass and guitar absolutely killing it. Then, Fictionist walked on stage for the first time in a long time. “I’ve gotten a lot better at edging my lawn and a lot worse at this” Maxfield would remark on-stage.
At its core, that’s what the album is. “It’s an August night and I’m watering dead grass / Just to see if there’s any roots left in the dirt”. That’s the essence of this album, for me. Watering the dead grass - I’ve been there on about every level imaginable over the last 7 years. Some times the grass came back to life and I have beautiful, healthy relationships to show for it. Sometimes I realized the dead grass was in the median of the freeway and I need to just let it go. I’ll tell you one thing - I’m not aware of any single modern installed automatic sprinkler system that will work reliably without any dead spots - at least not any installer that’s in operation. I don’t want to know the amount of time I have spent shoulder deep in sprinkler holes only to have a family of voles move in and tear the place up anyways. I think a lot of it has been learning what makes grass dead and doing things to prevent it, like power raking the undergrowth, aerating, fertilizing. But really at the end of the day it’s about just watering it. Anything around here that’s green is green because it’s getting water. Anywhere that’s not green is not getting water. It might be green because it’s weeds, but even weeds only grow where there’s water.
“I’m still here” - almost as if to say “despite it all”. Sometimes it seemed like we really might not make it, didn’t it? But we are still here, “breathing”. If we can guarantee the past 30 years, can we guarantee the next 30? If you could, what would you put into that guarantee? Why not, if after it all we’re still here? “In the words of a father ‘I’m doing fine.’” - what does “fine” look like? Maybe we should expect more out of life. If I had expected more out of myself 30 years ago, where would I be? I don’t mean like maybe I’d be in some mansion, or on the moon - life has turned out overall much better than I think I would have expected. That’s what I’m trying to say, having “high hopes”. “Close your eyes / and it’s already there / can you see it? / can you feel it? / it’s all around you / it’s everywhere”.
What do you think about when you’re elbow deep in muck, looking for a sprinkler pipe? I think about lots of things, but as I’ve come out of early adulthood and into my mid-seasoned age, I realized that my past has taken up a lot of space in my head. I have a really strong autobiographical memory and it can feel easy to be trapped in the past. Something that helps me feel a lot more positive about those memories is to work out what I could have done better, if anything, and what I should just accept as other people being genuine and being willing to meet them where they were at. It’s remarkable how I can retroactively change my perspective on those people and situations and come out feeling a lot better about the whole thing. The simple realization that “I was a stupid kid” and letting yourself be okay with that.
Sometimes I get stuck in this rut where I’m almost haunted by my past. That sounds dramatic but I just mean I almost get future-blind, it gets hard to see past a few hours or days at a time. REPEATER takes that dread and wrings itself out like the chemical by-product of a capitalist nightmare - but it’s not like some toxic sludge byproduct. Fictionist figured out a way to effectively hack that nightmare into a body of work that stands as the bands most prolific and emotionally-complete yet. “This one is dedicated to all the dads out there” - that’s me. I get it man, we get it. We go to work, we pay the mortgage, we provide physically for our families and we try our best to emotionally provide but man it can be tricky when in order to provide we have to sell our time, attention, talent, really, our entire souls for our wages. I’ve been really lucky actually - way luckier than I thought I’d be. I’m still left with the question of what of all really actually matters. What do I even want to matter? REPEATER ponders the existential questions crafted like diamonds in the extreme heat and pressure that come from trying to raise a family. “When did it happen? When did everything change?”
I find some answers to those questions as well “Shine the light / in the dark places / shine the light / in the broken places”. For Fictionist, maybe that light looks like the first album in 7 years and the most new material the band has ever released at a single time. I think it does.
Something happens when I hear live music - it’s like an “uncontrollable urge” comes over me. If I see people jumping around and having fun, I can’t help myself. I’ll just empty my pockets to my friend and take off. I’ll jump security barriers, juke out guards, squeeze through the crowd, even crowd surf if I have to. I literally can’t control it. I think it’s because in high school I went to a dance with a girl and I was really freakin’ freaked out and she said “Dave you just gotta bust outta your shell!” so I ripped it loose and that guy is a cool guy, so I can’t control it when he starts coming out.
Fictionist opened with Breathing and Run Around, in-order from the album. By that point, “Mr. Bust-Out-Of-Your-Shell” had come out and I was front row. I feel bad, being over 6 feet tall, but like I said it’s this guy who comes out, like The Mask. One time, I was at an Osees concert and that guy went so hard I started blacking out, it can be very hard to breath in a mosh pit, even outdoors. I can’t go to shows that are too crazy or he might end up killing me. I found myself singing along to every word. Had I really listened to the album that much? It’s not like they publish the lyrics or anything. It’s the same thing that happened all those years ago when I finally Googled “fictionist lasting echo” - it feels like a perfect album. For me.
They blew through most of REPEATER (all of it except Everywhere and High Hopes), ending with the gut-puncher $1.99, there were quite a few tears both in my eyes, on stage, and elsewhere. Then, they walked off stage. I’m not used to going to normal shows - King Gizz never does an encore because they play right till the curfew every time. “Oh yeah, we need to cheer so they do an encore!” I cheered as long and as loud as I could - but then something very unexpected happened.
As I gobbled my Al Pastor before the show, we noticed Jacob Jones walk by. What a surprise! In the venue, he was standing behind me, so I made sure to let him know how big a fan I was of his work on the albums and specifically this one cover of I Can’t Make You Love Me they did that is also deleted from the internet.
Suddenly, Jacob was on stage with his keyboard (a home-made looking thing that had a regular wall-mounted power outlet on the back of it). Then, the band was on stage as well! What the heck is going on? Suddenly: familiar noises. They noodled with the instrumental spaced-out “Figure In the Fog”, then went straight into “Great Escape” - both from the aforementioned self-titled EP! I don’t think I’d ever heard them perform anything from that record - let alone my favorite track. They didn’t miss a beat. Want proof?
Part of what the crazy “Mr. Shell” in me was telling me to do was try to get a soundboard recording of the show at all costs. I brought some equipment to be quick and lean. I scoped out the sound board and found what looked like would give me a hot signal. But I just couldn’t do it without asking. Not to the band or the venue. When the sound guy arrived, I maxed out my charisma stat and asked if I could get a bootleg and he turned me down flat. I’m really glad I asked. Instead, I started a voice memo and left my phone back by the sound booth. I was able to capture the whole show, and it actually sounds pretty good!
Music should be personal, shouldn’t it? I think it is. Frankly the only people I resonate with on a level of fandom as a hardcore Gizzhead is Swifties but from a musical perspective there’s definitely a mental divide I think. It’s just personal for everyone. If I was in a “desert island” situation, I’d definitely take as much of the Fictionist discography as I could. Starting with REPEATER. If there’s ever another album release show, I hope I’ll be there. But if there’s not - man, what a great set of songs to celebrate. Thanks a lot guys - we really love it.
REPEATER is now streaming everywhere. You can also purchase the album on iTunes for $9.99