Ah, sweet youth. From a certain critic’s contemporary review of 2006’s Let’s Build a Fire: “With this elegant and magnificently sophisticated release, James Baluyut & Co. sprint away from the pack, distinguishing themselves as perhaps the best the crowded and underachieving field of ‘jumpy synthpop’ has to offer. No foolin’, folks — this is as gorgeous as independent music gets. Don’t miss it.”
Simply put, when +/- (Plus/Minus) are at their best, few indie bands are better.
It’s been ten years since 2014’s Jumping the Tracks, time that +/-‘s members spent raising kids and battling a pandemic – both of which understandably wrought havoc on their musical output. After Covid, Baluyut, vocalist/guitarist Patrick Ramos, and drummer Chris Deaner decided to spin that decade’s worth of sporadic material into their latest album, Further Afield.
“After 2015, the plan was one EP every six months. That was much harder than we thought,” says Baluyut today. “We got one EP out, then Covid hit. We were still directionless in 2021. So we said, ‘the EP plan failed, let’s just make a record.'”
+/- got their start in Michigan, where Baluyut and Ramos met as toddlers. Somehow, they plugged a Dictaphone into an old-school VHS player (look them up) and recorded their audio over music videos. However, it wasn’t until college that they started writing music together. Around 2001 in San Francisco, Deaner met Baluyut’s brother Richard, who was James’ partner in the revered 1990s band Versus. When Deaner landed in New York in the nascent 2000s, his prior rock and roll experience was mainly miserable.
“Playing with strangers was like blind dating. Just terrible,” he says today. “Then I got to New York and saw +/- playing their very first show. Everything was like new. I said to myself, ‘I could play with these guys!'” He contributed to 2003’s You Are Here track “Megalomaniac” soon afterward.
Unlike many rock acts, +/-‘s historical lineup has proven amazingly consistent – perhaps because their slender, jittery style demands such uncanny tightness between members. “We use different bass players live, but recording is always us three main guys,” says Ramos. “Such closeness is unusual. Not many professions force you to work day in and day out with the same three people.” Wise words. As dada bassist Joie Calio once told this reviewer, “A rock band is like a submarine. You can’t get halfway off, and shit never leaves.” +/- even have their own private Slack channel; my family sure doesn’t.
Early musical influences are always vital. Young James listened to whatever his older brothers carted home, including the Beatles, the Doors, the Who, Queen, and ELO. (This cheese-swilling critic was charmed to see Styx, J Geils Band, and the Bee Gees make his list too.) Deaner kept Prince‘s 1985 Around the World in a Day on endless repeat but also mentions classic gangsta rap and hair metal. His drummer heroes were Motley Crüe’s Tommy Lee, the Police’s Stewart Copeland, and the ubiquitous Neal Peart. Ramos credits a ton of 1970s mellow soft rock, along with U2, New Order, and the Cure.
+/- made quite an impression in underground circles way back when. Baluyut describes trying to write weird music in a subtle way for future listeners decades from now. “How will music evolve?” he asked himself. “Can we use odd time signatures, or sophisticated yet unnoticed chord structures, that nobody would notice – then make the songs catchy enough to cover all this shit up?” Their early 2000s ‘indie-tronic’ sub-genre included some half-decent bands (Rogue Wave) and a hundred forgotten ones (Postal Service, Apples in Stereo). +/- first caught this reviewer’s ear with 2003’s dual releases You Are Here and the Holding Patterns EP, both of which remain in our regular rotation twenty years later.
“Holding Patterns is our best work,” says Deaner, and we concur. “That EP had no weaknesses.”Patterns’ achingly delicate “Making the Horse Drink” became an instant favorite and sounds just as heavenly today (“It’s the last night of the world…”). In hindsight, Ramos wishes they had combined Holding Patterns with You Are Here’s five best songs, birthing a super Franken-record for the ages. Perhaps not, but as a one-two punch, these albums still mesh incredibly well. The drum tracks for both releases were recorded together – perhaps because +/- was stuck paying for studio time in those days, and efficiency was king.
Next came 2006’s Let’s Build a Fire, one of that year’s most enduring yet still underappreciated releases. Exquisitely hushed progressions; impassioned, lilting vocals and acoustics; just the right touch of bombast where needed: The mind-quickening maturity of these songs still reaches out and slaps the listener silly with appreciation. Believe it or not, the closest archetype for diversity and texture may just be the legendary ‘1970s Makeout Album’ (seriously!). Think Bread, or maybe America’s Greatest Hits, and you’re getting warm – except more angular and indie all the way, with epic arrangements and remarkably intricate drum schemes that somehow never trip over themselves. Ramos’ soft-rock pedigree is at work, no doubt.
One super-cool quirk in +/-‘s repertoire, from this critic’s perspective? Their re-recorded alternative takes often sound superior to the originals. Apparently, the alt-version of “For You” on 2010’s odds-and-ends Pulled Punches compilation was the intended finale for Let’s Build a Fire. Deaner was unable to get the drums laid down in time, so Baluyut and Ramos cut the drier album version themselves. The wonderful backup take plays like a string-laden stage version of Neil Hannon’s Divine Comedy, or perhaps early 1980s ABC, generating a theatrical vortex of expanding pleasure. Holding Patterns’ extended version of “Trapped Under Ice Floes” is another nifty example, sandwiching a spooky two-minute exploration/interlude into what was already a fantastic song. It’s this unexpurgated cut that +/- still plays in concert.
Laid against these early triumphs, the newest release, Further Afield measures up quite well and has grown on me considerably during the past few weeks. If not quite an indie masterpiece like Let’s Build a Fire (a patently unfair comparison), the album’s quality is still remarkable considering +/-‘s ten-year layoff. “Intentionally Left Blank” starts the record off with fuzzy keyboards and synths, like Dazz Band’s 1982 disco-funk staple “Let It Whip” (never saw that one coming). Personal favorites are the sinewy “Redrawn” and especially the pop-heavy Al Stewart homage “Calling Off the Rescue”, proving that +/- can still sugarcoat eardrums with the best of them. Ramos and Deaner are justifiably proud of Afield, praising “Is It Over Now” and “Pull from Both Sides” in particular. Baluyut really digs “Gondolier”, calling it one of their most exciting tracks. “We pushed that so far,” he says. “That was ground we never covered before.”
Yours truly has heard some fabulous war stories on the indie-rock beat. But not this time. “We are pretty boring. An insular DIY entity,” Balayut assures us. “We record ourselves, make our own videos. We’re not part of any scene; we don’t follow any trend or fashion – just doing what we like.” +/-has toured or performed with Death Cab for Cutie, Portugal the Man, and the National. Also, in true Spinal Tap style, the band became bigger in Japan than in the US. But success isn’t what gets Baluyut out of bed in the morning. “The music we want to hear just isn’t out there,” he asserts by way of inspiration. “We tried doing commercial songs for brands, too. All that did was destroy my love of music.”
Time and family have moderated the members’ lifestyles, as they invariably do. “We toured a lot at the beginning. Then came kids,” says Ramos today, still living in New York. “+/- was never popular enough to support a family anyhow. It couldn’t form a career for us in the normal sense.” He also marvels at the music industry’s galactic shift since 2000. “I cannot imagine having today’s platforms 25 years ago. So, who knows?”
Deaner describes his early friendship with the band Spoon, who took off. But not him, at least not then. “I was never in those bigger bands, though I enjoyed the camaraderie,” he says. “We never worried about popularity, just making the music we want to make.” Originally a software engineer by trade, Deaner wound up playing with Kelly Clarkson for two years, giving it up when family arrived. “Some people are really good at the music machine. I’m not one of them,” he says. “My happy place is making the music I want to make. No compromises.”
Baluyut agrees, sounding like he prefers life with one foot off the ground. “From the moment I left college, I’ve been playing music. Everything else is in service to that. It’s what makes me happy,” he says. “Making the connection is what satisfies. Work is not my identity; +/- is. Everything else is so I can do this.”
Despite freelancing as a video producer, Baluyut understands full well where his heart lies. “These records are frozen in time. They will live forever, whether listened to or not. They are our small mark that will never go away.”