The Timeout Drawer is comprised of Someoddpilot Records founders Chris Eichenseer and Jason Goldberg with the addition of Chris Van Pelt, who, after being banished from Miami for playing the guitar and piano, joined the band to lend his invisible hand techniques. Eichenseer and Goldberg have been making music together since the 7th grade, breakdancing together since the 5th. Having grown-up in the suburbs of Chicago, where most lives are as difÞcult as a day in the spa and equally as boring, they've spent most of their adolescence in basements arranging synths and guitars (with original Drawer members Jason Terchin [MolarMill] and Ray Dybzinski [Sounding Spirals]) when it wasn't cool to do so, stringing together midi chains that could choke a baby elephant, and cranking out various forms of experimental rock music that had yet to be called post-anything. Moving to Chicago in 1999, the band pin-pointed their niche as an emotionally stirring and melody-based instrumental prog-kraut-post-rock outfit. With an arsenal of moogs, wurlitzers, prophets, guitars and drums, the band set in motion a unique potion of pop refrains, moody sedation, heated emotional fits and catchy anthem rock. Their simple yet dense interlacing of melodies serve as a launchpad for amazing emotional adventures, moving Chicago's signature "post-rock" sound into more thematic and epic territory. With the addition of Chris Van Pelt, the band completed their quest for instrumental kick-ass, adding a new dimension of restrained recklessness to their sound.
Now two albums into the game, The Timeout Drawer has toured the Midwest extensively, playing alongside bands like DoMakeSayThink, Fly Pan Am, Tristeza, The Album Leaf, Emperor Penguin, Wisdom of Harry, TRS-80, Maserati, Paper Lyons, Quintron and Miss Pussycat, Smokey & Miho, Damo Suzuki (Can) and Volta Do Mar. They have received chunks of happy praise from some of the world's most respected press outlets: Xlr8r, Pitchforkmedia.com, Outburn, Losing Today, Grooves, etc. and airplay from coast to coast in the states. Having recently completed a "live instrument" remix for labelmates Salvo Beta, featured alongside Pele, Hrvatski, Melt Banana, Sutekh, Safety Scissors, and Jake Mandell on a forthcoming remix album, the band is currently at work on a 7", EP and full-length due in 2003. After completing a four week tour of the Mid-West and East Coast in October of 2002, and never content with kicking their feet up, the band hits the road again in June 2003 to repave the route with Damo Suzuki and Defender.
For their sophomore effort, these Chicago space-rock mavens have strapped themselves into a kaleidoscopic rocket ship and blasted off on an analog synth and dissonance-fueled trip into the outer stratosphere of rock 'n roll. A Difficult Future sees this newly-expanded outfit treading a fine line between their lunar-inspired past and a rocket fuel-drenched future so bright, they're gonna need Teflon-coated shades. While the majority of their debut, Record of Small Histories, gently lulled the listener into their vast sonic vortex, A Difficult Future will grab you by the throat and dare you not to become enveloped in The Timeout DrawerÕs blanket of supersonic sound. Former collaborator Jason Terchin's return to the group has given them a thicker, more sonically varied musical palette from which to draw. They flex some Spiritualized muscle on the expansive "The End of Every Movie", then somehow engineer a head-on collision of Galaxie 500 and Kraftwerk on the chiming sci-fi dervish "Dusty Planes and Daydreams of Adventure". Warm, languid tones dominate the thrillingly melodic "Soon a Winged Beauty will Appear", making it an ideal choice for use in nature documentaries. Throughout A Difficult Future, The Timeout Drawer prove themselves to be adept noisemongers whose fractured sense of restrained beauty and ethereal melody is eclipsed only by their stunning songcraft and instrumental ingenuity. -- jj splendidezine.com
God we just LOVE bands like this. The Timeout Drawer is a puzzling, obscure, odd band that creates delightfully bright and peculiar instrumental pop music. At times the compositions border on modern jazz, while at other times the band's music is more similar to ambient techno/dance. One thing that sets this band apart from other similar bands is the fact that they use a live drummer. It is truly amazing what a difference a live drummer makes. The tunes on A Difficult Figure are obtuse, slightly confusing, and strangely calming. Whereas many instrumental bands just kind of drone and sludge their way through their albums, these guys constantly push limits and test the listener. In several cases on this album it doesn't even sound like the same band is playing. This is progressive instrumental pop for free-floating intellectuals. Nice. REALLY nice. Gotta love those song titles too... How 'bout "Springtime Brings An Organ Grinder" (???). (Rating: 5) -- lmnop.com
SPACE ROCK GROUNDED IN MELODY: All too often, creators of so-called space rock over indulge in their whims. How many times have you listened to 12 minute tracks that never really go anywhere, just puttering out around the same supposedly ambient series of blips or bleeps? Not so with The Timeout Drawer who, to their considerable credit, refuse to sacrifice melody to space. The ever tuneful A Difficult Future comes close on the heels of the well received Record of Small Histories, one of the central criticisms of which was that the vocals felt unnecessary. Apparently the band took note; A Difficult Future is vocal free. Not to worry, as the instrumentals offer plenty to keep one entertained. The Timeout Drawer carves a niche of their own, thanks to thoughtful integration of electronics with live instruments, subtle mood shifts that give each track its own identity, and a patient ardor for adventure without overstaying their welcome. The longest track, "His Sailing Days Are Over But He Can't Forget The Sea," is just over eight minutes, which is downright diminutive by space rock standards. This melancholy epic track is perhaps the album's best. Moog aficionados will be enchanted by the band's deft Moog implementation used to fill the moments where vocals would have been on the last release. The decision was a good one; A Difficult Future is music that can speak just fine without words. -- outburn magazine
If the future is as spacious instrumentalists Timeout Drawer make it out to be on their latest A Difficult Future, then it's not so difficult to understand after all, because it's all happened before. You've heard this type of Moogy, melancholy analog buzz before-from the Cure up to contemporary Chicago post-rock. The Timeout Drawer's synths and guitar atop the gentle drumming are as fragile as Mogwai's softer, more melodic moments. While these types of songs may be familiar, you've also returned to the same bed countless times, and that doesn't make it any less warm and comfortable a place to rest. -- XLR8R magazine
New German upstarts sucked all the invention and creativity out of the Chicago postrock scene (which bit their Krautrock forefathers to begin with). However, evidence of a Windy City salvo beyond the Tortoise clan begins with bands such as The Timeout Drawer, who also borrow segments of 80's nu-wave melodies and pump it all through a very Moog-laden backdrop, replete with the retrofuturistic feel of Darla-style space rock propelled by an intelligent rhythm section.
This group has therefore accomplished with analog synths what Sigur Ros and Godspeed have been doing with guitar and strings. Each track flows imperceptibly into the next, like the early Tangerine dream records, which were one long opus. Play this back to back with the recent Brian Eno, and notice how this latest batch of postrockers has improved on a time-tested formula with expansive, hypnotic textures, much warmer and lusher than anything the father of ambient music has done in decades. At times when the compositions call for a lot of electric piano, the Timeout Drawer can get a bit too much on the EZ-psychedelic, bizarro-Doors side of things for my liking, but such moments don't dominate the CD. Rather, UFO's seem to have landed with just the right kind of soundtrack that would be perfect for a remake of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. -- grooves magazine
Not a closet. Not a corner. The Timeout Drawer, for God's sake. Just how bad do you have to be to get stuffed in there? It's hard to think of the band in terms of punishment, because their sound is far from transgressive. These four guys might get tossed in the post-rock pile, but what they make is unabashed space-rock, although not in the abstract jam-band sense. They soak their instrumentals in dense synthesizer tones. They feed their guitars through a thicket of effects pedals. And if the smooth results don't sound much like the future, well, it's because the celestial paths were first explored in the 1970s.
A Difficult Future begins with electronic piano chords hinting at soulfulness, like the opening of Belle and Sebastian's "Don't Leave the Light On, Baby." But then, in washes the monolithic Moog. The prog-dwellers and krautrockers of the 70s shared a simple secret: analog synth, with that slight delay in the decay of its notes, sure sounds great when you're under the influence. And so the Timeout Drawer continue in that vein, each song buzzing and burping in harmonies that would cue reminiscent tears (or flashbacks!) for old Hawkwind fans. You can hear traces of descendants of the sound, too, especially when bass, guitar and keyboards converge in epic choruses, conjuring up the overwrought sincerity of Signals-era Rush. For contemporaries, think Air's Virgin Suicides score, the best Pink Floyd album never made.
The technical proficiency of the musicians is near flawless. For nearly an hour, they weave layers of drones, distortion and the clarion call of their synths into a seamless mix. But for all the rocking numbers, there are also moments when the sentimentality of a melody becomes cloying. They don't quite breach Vangelis territory, but "His Sailing Days Are Over But He Can't Forget the Sea," for instance, wouldn't sound out of place in a planetarium's laser light show. And "Finding a Place in the Sun" could be the soundtrack to Star Hustler! I can just hear that guy's voice now: "When the moon reaches its apex, we're going to lie in the penumbra, eat some of these fabulous magic mushrooms I found, and listen to the Timeout Drawer. You should really come along!"
The Timeout Drawer used to have a singer. I can't imagine that hearing his vocals would have dramatically altered my perspective on the band. But lyrics might have added a human dimension to a group whose sound otherwise emits a sterile neutrality, as if radiated from the Nebula of the Ever-Present, All-Encompassing Soup of the Universe. In the end, you wonder what (if anything) these songs mean, or how you're supposed to feel about the whole affair. At its worst, A Difficult Future exhibits all the post-rock-extra-lite tendencies of schlock like Tristeza and the Album Leaf. But at their best, these fellows make extremely competent, mercurial compositions that don't flinch away from their retro stylings. Here's to a future that never happened. -- pitchforkmedia.com
Completely without vocals, The Timeout Drawer finds ways to make its variety of instruments and synthesizers speak. In this abstract world, The Timeout Drawer is trying to communicate loss and pain, but also ultimate beauty as it takes listeners along through A Difficult Future. Although The Timeout Drawer's voiceless rock may be a strange choice, the band has enough confidence to carry both itself and listeners to where A Difficult Future is going.
Opening with the sweeping "The Gift They'd Pick If the Choice Were Theirs", The Timeout Drawer invites listeners in with a slowly building melody that swells into a journey of its own. The hope in this song, from the title to the soaring synthesizers, provides an optimistic opening to A Difficult Future as a whole. The next track, the evocative "The End of Every Movie" moves the album farther away from the conception of reality. The Timeout Drawer may be a bit indistinct, but it is not unapproachable. A Difficult Future has enough structure to keep it from falling apart, transitioning between the straightforward "Dusty Planes and Daydreams of Adventure" to the all-encompassing "Its Past Makes Its Present So Interesting" effortlessly.
The loosely knit songs have an openness to them, leaving room for listeners to become lost inside this world. Although The Timeout Drawer is a bit intangible at times, there are enough hooks to bring listeners back in. The glorious "300 Years: 100 Pages" develops from a peaceful loop to expansive synthesized orchestration that bears little resemblance to the beginning of the track. It is moments like this that keeps A Difficult Future interesting and proves this is a band that works hard to keep its listeners engaged.
Still, The Timeout Drawer does tend to cultivate excess. With song lengths that often run in the excess of five minutes, often crossing to the six- to seven-minute range, these songs are not easy little pop gems. The band tends to construct all its songs as epics, from the longest, "His Sailing Days Are Over But He Can't Forget the Sea" to the shortest, "Soon a Winged Beauty Will Appear". While none of these songs feel overly long, A Difficult Future does require some patience, especially since the effect is best when the album is taken as a whole. These tracks seem meant to be taken as a unit and not necessarily individually, and at close to an hour, it can be a lot to digest in a single listening.
A Difficult Future may seem pessimistic on title alone, but The Timeout Drawer brings hopefulness to modern despair. The Timeout Drawer has crafted an album that widens the scope of what rock can be, and creates beauty from everyday moments. Even for what it lacks and the few things it has done wrong, The Timeout Drawer is worth every moment it provides on A Difficult Future. -- popmatters.com
Combining spacey drone with fist raising prog-rock proves to be a winning combination for Chicago four piece The Timeout Drawer. Taking them in a step towards immediacy after 1999's Record of Small Histories, the album draws you in quickly with its complex interplay of dual keyboard melodies, guitar, and drums. Jason Goldberg's low, Ian Curtis (Joy Division)-like vocals have been sifted out this time around, making the album completely instrumental and cinematic.
A Difficult Future moves gracefully through pockets of rhythmic and almost danceable grooves, all the while tossed over deep synth-bass and firm, driving beats. The album is much more robust and visualized than their debut, and manages to establish a thick atmosphere for the listener to travel through. The title fits clearly with the mood the band creates; you can imagine a sterilized, white walled corridor with human silhouettes on a conveyor belt, moving towards an uncertain destination.
If there is ever a sequel to the 1982 sci-fi thriller, Blade Runner, A Difficult Future by the Timeout Drawer should be its soundtrack. -- lost at sea
Record Of Small Histories (debut) is what's playing most frequently on my stereo these days. The record holds 7 songs filled with experimental rock with a strong space-touch - it's atmospheric without being silly and at the same time it's incredibly catchy.
- TruckFighter.com
The Timeout Drawer play mood enhancing music that swims and sways through the atmosphere. Sounding very much like an instrumental The Cure, they use synthesiers and keyboards to bring in eerie sounding sustained notes that float around the softly yet busy drumming and minimal guitar playing. This is the soundtrack to your dreams after taking your cough medicine. The music feels heavy and surreal. At times you feel so at ease that you lose track of anything you were doing and just stop and listen. What more could a band ask for from its listeners?
- Mike Headley, copperpress
Picture Kraftwerk and the Cure floating through the Cosmos together--an historic collaboration between German and English space programs. Resultant transmissions to Earth? The Timeout Drawer's "Record of Small Histories." The steadily escalating opener (it's called "Stair") relies on vintage keyboard waves and melancholy echo-laden guitar pluckings to lift you up into The Timeout Drawer's stratospheric neighborhood. And you stay there until they pop your balloon. Is it too New Age-y? I thought at first that it might be, but I chose to ignore that feeling. It's something you get over when the drums start to rock (steadily churning along through "1000 reels"), or the electronics head into more esoteric, abrasive territory. And you realize that the tracks, faceless as they are, are really all variations on the same theme. They all blur together in a sad, spare symphony. Although I'm guessing here, I'd bet that singer Jason Goldberg is not European. Yet his delivery curiously recalls the tentative shiver of early 80s foreigners (not Foreigner) like the singers of Kraftwerk, Minimal Compact, or Tuxedomoon. I was taken by surprise when that sour vocal track first crept in, nearly 18 minutes into the CD. (Where'd the vocals go on Track 1? They're listed, but I don't hear them.) It's certainly an acquired taste, but I'm down. On the whole, this record is a moody, sedate masterpiece-mostly slight and glum, always spacey and delicately layered, very occasionally "rocking."
--- Todd Paley - Reviewer At Large, rocket fuel
I don't believe they've ever made a soundtrack for a space voyage to Pluto, but if NASA were soliciting soundtrack contributions for said mission I would have to nominate Record of Small Histories. The Chicago three-piece creates seven otherworldly anthems of blistering intensity and epic proportion. Their expansive space-pop sounds open themselves up gradually, each song unraveling layer upon layer of noise, melody and feeling. The luscious "1000 reels" begins with an eerie keyboard drone, adding vocals, guitars and drums along the way as the song spirals upward to its cataclysmic finish. Other songs, such as "Applause" and "Tourist," make brilliant use of gentle atmospherics and warm analog drones. At times the band's sound is reminiscent of fellow Chicago trance-rockers Frontier due to their simultaneous use of ambience and fury. A space-pop record for those who don't like space-pop, Record of Small Histories finds The Timeout Drawer blasting out of the hemisphere.
-- jj, splendidezine.com
" Space rock has never sounded so good. The Timeout Drawer is a trio from Chicago that plays mostly instrumental, emotionally textured rock. The analogue synths are layered with affected guitar tones very much reminiscent of Robert Smith's chiming style, particularly in the opener, "Stair." The melodies are languid and full of the dark trappings associated with laborious instrumental rock, but they ebb and flow gracefully within the epic proportions of each track. The songs unfurl in slow motion to reveal strange synthetic noises and distant keyboards. The layers are thick, but the music never sounds clouded.
It's surprising to hear a human voice after two lengthy instrumentals, but the vocal style is very subtle and unassuming. The vocals are not necessary, but they don't break the spell either. The band changes pace on "1000 Reels", letting the tension build beyond an echoed crescendo. The lyrics are cryptic and vague: "a thousand reels grinding/a part of me now is gone/of course the scene still remains/tune in and save me at five/frame by frame I'll inform." The direction gets even weirder on "Tourist." The music is no longer passive and reflective. The beat picks up pace and the electronics sound modern, as if the band just became aware that it was being watched.
Record Of Small Histories is like the soundtrack to a futuristic bad dream. It's best to listen to this with headphones to catch all of the stylistic minutiae. The Timeout Drawer's elegant spaceboy rock is worth seeking out even if you are averse to droning instrumentals. The shortest song is practically six minutes, but it's easy to lose yourself in this wraithlike time warp." --drawerb.com
"Record of Small Histories is comprised of seven mostly instrumental tracks lasting just over 50 minutes. The songs are somewhat formulaic-- they all being quietly with a fade-in or a quiet drone, layering more instruments and building complex walls of sound. But this isn't your standard space-psych trio-- instead of noodling their way to some improvisational higher consciousness, the Timeout Drawer's songs feature actual pre- written melodies which lend some much needed direction and structure to the genre." --pitchforkmedia.com
"there are thousands of songs out there that don't affect me in any particular way but if an artist or band can change or enhance my mood through their music, i become addicted. the timeout drawer is an electronic space rock trio who have me hooked totally with their ambient and trippy instrumentals and vocal driven mood music. meaningful music for people who need to be moved. slow progressions of sound and melody that twist quietly and subtly through phases of eclectic ambience and experimental psychedelia. a moody type of space music which softens the listener to the tranquil depths of mellowness and relaxation. other tracks meander through the realms of sullen goth pop with intentionally monotonic vocals set to warm electronic experiments and light guitar. music that will no doubt be very appealing to fans of the tear garden. rare elements of subtle jazz tend to mesmerize the senses, particularly during the instrumental beauty that is lull... perhaps even bringing to mind the style of dimeloa, deluca and mclaughlin in their quieter acoustic moments. beauty in sound and movement. a most highly recommended CD." --raw42.com
"The Timeout Drawer are a welcome antidote for those being fed the wretchedly inane pop that currently gluts the airwaves. Littered with swirling, dissonant soundscapes, Record of Small Histories is moody, moogy space-rock at its best. The trio give you a glimpse into their collective dissected heart; a heart kept alive by electronic pulses, overflowing with complexity and layers of emotion. You're immediately affected by the space created on this record - these guys seem fresh off the moon with their ambient take on rock. Analog instruments have never made you feel this way. The moog is the bee and you are the flower. After the first few bars of "Stair" you're thrown into a dreamworld of soothing guitars and warm synth pads, and find yourself caught in a wormhole of contemplation and beauty, complexity and fractured love. "Lull," for instance, is a beauteous love poem to a supernova, a sonnet of sonic bliss. Record of Small Histories is the perfect soundtrack for the end of the millennium." --inkblotmagazine.com
