motel pastel

THIS IS CONFIRMATION OF YOUR MAY 13TH CHECK-IN AT THE PASTEL MOTEL. ENJOY YOUR STAY.

Photos by TIME MAGIC STUDIOS

BY LANCE REESE

Ifirst met Pastel Motel coming on the heels of their 2016 release East A Street, a Pink Floydian mega-opus with 20-minute-long songs (remember Animalism parts 1 – 26? Anyway this midtwenty-something group of guys – Ricky and Ryan Maxey on guitar and vocals, Eric Deleon on bass and Jerry on drums – are flying on this new launch so I book them to headline our annual Beardfest. Total pros, they hype the shit out of the event, and I’m getting messages from all their groupies “what time is Pastel Motel playing at the festival,” and of course I respond with “sometime after dark and after the luchadores finish their wrestling matches.” Obviously the only way to follow a bunch of short dudes in masks body slamming each other is to throw a psychedelic jam band on the opposite stage. And it pretty much goes down just like that, and the band’s still young enough that they can keep it together and slay a set - even black out drunk, total rock star style, wasted but still tight - keep playing as they’re blowing fuses - crowd packed up against the stage, and at the end of the night despite all the booze and endorphins they still remember to collect their check. Pure pro.

So some six months later I run into Ricky and we hatch a plan to put on a small show at my bike shop. He lines up the bands, Bad Habit and Take Back, and I handle the venue and equipment. I’m completely new to all of this, my gear’s shit, I’ve got some shit Mackie analog mixer and I order some cheap stage lights off the internet. Half the lights don’t come on when I get them so I open up the cans and find most of the wires were never connected. Yeah for cheap Amazon shit – but a little bit of solder and I get it proper and working like they should.

Now to give some historical perspective: in the years that have followed, putting on shows has become a thing, Ricky and I have put on over 100 events and I’m now humbly considered by many to run some of the best sound and lighting for music in Central Washington. But back then, we were a complete shit show. Sure we pulled it off and it was a blast, but all night Ricky’s a mess ‘cause he thinks not enough people are showing up and the show’s a total failure, then he realizes he’s run most of the first set with the mains muted - all the room sound coming through the stage monitor (I think we just had one back then). I wasn’t any better, technically I mean, emotionally I’m all business so I kept my shit together, but a couple hours before the show I picked up a Chauvet DMX lighting controller. I have no idea how to set the whole thing up but I can push sliders up and down so I just address the lights as 001, 002, 003, 004. I understand that, like me at the time, that will mean nothing to most people, but rest assured it translates to not being able to do anything practical – at all. Push slider 1 up and it turns on light number one. Push slider 2 up and it turns on light number two, but it also makes light number one strobe… And it goes on and on and sure enough all I get is a color changing flashing mess (FYI it was still cooler than what most venues have or do.) As a bonus I picked up a $20 fog machine – actually I think I paid a couple bucks more and splurged on one that had a wireless remote so I could control when the thing went off. The fog machine took forever to heat up, it could only go off every five minutes or so, but when it did it was like uncontrolled flatulence from a dying dragon who’d eaten chili for its last meal. By the end of the night we’d kind of found a rhythm and turned up a small crowd who had a blast and kicked down enough cash that each musician was able to pocket thirty bucks.

Still, Ricky insisted that it was mostly a failure, he’s a pessimist – but it motivated me and I started getting better equipment, some real stage lights, lighting software and a pro level mixer. So I tell Ricky he should come down and check it out, maybe jam a little. He pretty much tells me to get fucked. Politely, but get fucked none the less. In fairness Pastel Motel has started recording another album by this point, doing it on their own – so he’s buried in that project and I get it. He’s doing his thing and I keep doing mine, keep working on the venue, more lights better acoustics, hook up with some other artists and we put together a monthly songwriter (hate that fucking term) concert series.

That goes on for a while till out of the blue I get a call “you still got that jam space?” Ricky asks me over the phone. See, things have turned to shit for Pastel Motel. The new album they’ve been slaving over? The computer it was on crashed and they lost EVERYTHING – like six months of recording and mixing (back your shit up kids). On top of that they lost their drummer and their practice space. “Yeah, I got a spot. Come check it out and see if it would work for you,” and he’s desperate – would probably settle for a cardboard box to play

in if I offered, but I still remember he kinda told me to fuck off the last time I invited him to check it out so I reserve the right to be a little bit of a passive aggressive dick about the whole thing. He comes down and I casually walk him into the venue, stage set up – I make sure the lighting’s turned on and I ramble on about “not sure if this space will work for you or not….” “Uh…. Yeah. This will work…” he says, a little bit in disbelief. “well check with your guys, don’t make any quick decisions…” now I’m being a dick. “They will definitely be okay with this,” he says. “our last spot was in a storage unit behind a warehouse in Selah. We have a space heater in the winter and a box fan in the summer. This place has AC and a stage?” “Well, better check with them anyway, don’t want them stuck somewhere they’re not comfortable.” I’m really laying it on thick at this point, but in the end we strike a deal and they’ve been practicing on that stage a couple times a week since.

It turns out to be an emotional transition for the band, going from a four piece to a three piece. Ryan’s decided to switch from playing guitar to mastering the drum instead. He’s a phenom and can play any instrument he touches, so the band’s still tight, perhaps tighter than ever. But going from the front of the stage to the back behind the kit changes the interaction on stage and with the crowd. Plus there’s way more space in the music to fill without a second guitar. Practically, there isn’t time to deal with the emotion – they’ve got gigs lined up all summer and they need to put a set together, rework their songs to fit the new arrangement - how to strip down the previous dueling guitar interplay but keep the energy and experimentation. And going forward they still want to record their new album, some songs may work, others will have to be scrapped and new ones will have to be written so they can get back in the studio come winter.

I’m down hanging at practice with them every week, not that I don’t trust them, but I can’t really give them the keys to the building just yet, and I dig their music and it gives me a chance to work on running light and sound. I’m there bearing witness to a band that’s doing what they can to hold it together through change. Gotta keep them moving forward, making music. They still don’t trust me, practicing in the venue is almost too good to be true coming from a storage unit. They’re pretty sure I’m going to drug them and sell them as sex slaves to gypsies, or something like that. So on a Thursday night I put them on the spot. “I have a problem and I need your guys’ help. Not sure if you’re up for it, but I really need you to come through on this.” I can see the concern on their faces. They’ve been anxiously waiting to hear what the “catch” to practicing on the stage would be and here it finally is. “See… I have these two leftover kegs from a wedding this weekend, they really need to be finished off. I really need you guys to put some work in tonight and finish them off so the beer doesn’t go bad.” There’s a perplexed look, then a look of relief, then finally Ricky volunteers “well, you know we’ve certainly done our share of drinking. No guarantees but we’ll certainly do what we can.” So practice begins and the IPA and stout are pouring and the music swirls in the lights from green to red and the band’s silhouettes swim in that light and sound. Sometime early in the morning Ryan rolls off the stage onto the floor laughing. Soon after, I see tail lights swerving their away… dear god no one should be driving and I hope no one dies…. At least one of the kegs is blown, the other is not far behind and the band - well they’re kind of sorted after that. A new path forward. They settle in, find their groove, play some shows and start recording.

To be clear, life didn’t stop for 2 years during covid, but damn it wasn’t easy. At least once Pastel Motel broke up for a couple days (maybe a week) then they got past it and moved forward. Instead of rehashing the life of musicians during a pandemic, I’ll sum it up by saying - shows got booked, shows got canceled (they actually played two days before the lockdown at the Central Saloon in Seattle, it was a fucking ghost town.)

Ultimately the pandemic became the perfect time to work on their new album, and after all my Dr. Doofenshmirtz back story (did I mention which eastern European village I was abandoned in by my parents as a child?) we finally get to Confection, Pastel Motel’s newest release scheduled for May 13th.

Conceptually this album is a journey through the daily struggle of life. It wasn’t written as a pandemic album, but the melancholy and hopelessness that comes through both the lyrics and music certainly tie into the emotion that heavily permeated so much of society for the last two years. The feeling of being alone, suppressed, lacking control but ultimately realizing that life is what you make it and it’s up to the individual to take control of their own happiness. To own their decisions and the emotions along with it. The lyrics are there to paint this picture, but they’re able to adapt to individual interpretation as well. The band is careful to leave enough vagueness that listeners can relate their own experiences to the songs, create their own meanings and connections. That doesn’t mean there isn’t truth to every lyric. Everything written is from the heart and every time they sing they are sharing their pain and insecurities. It’s this naked exposure of their souls that makes every performance so real, they’re never faking it.

As meaningful as they are, the lyrics are always the last piece of the puzzle when writing a new song. I’ve heard many nights of “da da – daaa da da” during the process. If there was a formula for a Pastel Motel song it’d be this; how can we take a complicated polyrhythmic song and make it seem simple for an average listener. “If it’s not challenging to play I’d rather not waste my time on it,” Ricky once told me. So they write songs where everyone plays in a different time signature and somehow Ryan can sing in 4/4 while he drums in 13/8 while Ricky’s playing something like 33/11 and Eric’s chugging along in who knows what, but all those moments line up and it’s magic.

It’s this individual complexity of each instrument that helps this album evolve over their previous releases. With out multiple swirling guitars to take up space, each note becomes so critical; the bass becomes much intricate and prominent in establishing the melody.

This album is a more matured Pastel Motel. There isn’t the distorted angst of the past (they can still play that stuff too, and do) but life is less of a fight and now the battle is an introspective challenge, overcoming the daily repetition grinding down and move forward.

Let loose on the reigns that tether to the chains that hold you down – but prevent you from floating away. Trying not to slip – bound to lose your grip.

Despite its evolution this is still vintage Pastel Motel and fans of previous albums will feel right at home with these songs and they translate spectacularly live as a frame work to explore on stage. That’s always the real experience, familiarize with the album, then see them live. The album drops May13th 2022, you can check out their new music video for the album’s penultimate song “Grip” now, then get tickets to one of their release shows. May 13th in Yakima at The Bearded Monkey and May 14th at Wally’s in Wenatchee. See you there. C