
Recently a friend asked me, when I told him about the misery I had immediately in front of me in my listening queue, “Why do you do that to yourself?” I sighed and admitted my own puzzlement, but now I remember…this is why I do it. Because there are gems out there that time and circumstances have let fall by the wayside…gems that should be discovered and treasured, not forgotten in the dustheap…some of which even sound horrible on their first couple of listens.
That’s the category of this release by Sam Iam, an early 90’s band from Minneapolis. I don’t have any more bio on the band than that, really, but I wanted to make it explicit because you can’t imagine how much effort it took just to learn that. You see, this band is not to be confused with the Berkeley punk band Samiam, who is thanked in these liner notes, nor the rapper Sam I Am. Add those other artists into the mix with the phrase’s ubiquity (as well as that of the album’s title) and Sam Iam’s obscurity and you’ve got a band and album that are pretty well Google-blocked.
Now, this isn’t a discovered gem of the same caliber as Jump, Little Children’s Magazine, which literally put a spring in my step for a few weeks about a year ago. This disc hasn’t changed my life. Still, I’m glad I’ve heard it, especially “Moon And Stars,” “Die Alone,” and “Skin And Bones,” the three best songs here.
Sonically, Sam Iam played pretty straight-forward rock with an emphasis on melodies and some funk and rap elements thrown in. The backbeats hit hard when they want them, too, many lines are more rapped than sung, and much of the guitar work is wah-wah based. This gets overdone at times, like the overt plod of “Drop Your Drawers,” a tale similar to that of “Darling Nikki,” by fellow Minneapolitan Prince, or their medley of Ohio Players’ “Brick House” and Aerosmith’s “Sweet Emotion,” which is arranged well, but should have been left to be performed by the original artists.
Still, there are plenty of moments where this band finds their space and nails it. “Skin And Bones” is a real nice groove, and “Die Alone” is musically fantastic even if it’s “Ghost Of A Chance”-like (Rush) lyrics veer pretty close to wince-inducing cheese (a problem that also mars “Corporate Couple (Get The Funk),” which features the third-grade phrase “beautiful on the inside”). “Warm Bunny, Soft Blanket” is almost a bit of a joke on death metal, but I love the 45 seconds of noise and the chugging guitar riff. “Tupperware Party” isn’t the greatest song, but its innuendo-filled lyrics about solutions for keeping your lettuce crisper display a wit that absolves the bands of their other lyrical transgressions. I’m even entertained by “Bus,” a tale of the features and travails of the best public transportation Minneapolis had to offer in 1991.
So this is why I listen to so much crap…because it’s a volume game for me. I just listen and listen and listen and sometimes I run into something I never would have found without doing so much listening. Given the new distribution model for music, there’s got to be a better strategy than my five-times-per-CD approach, and I’m definitely moving more in that direction, but still…I never would have found Sam Iam without the all-CDs-welcome methodology I currently employ.
And it’s still a surprise to me how I encountered this. Why did this end up in benefactor J-mez’ collection, who didn’t move to Minneapolis until 1999?
Rating:

Mixers: none
Non-keepers: “Corporate Couple (Get The Funk),” “Drop Your Drawers,” “Windows,” “Sweet Brick House Emotion,” “Tie Dye Tuxedo”
Filed Between: Saint Etienne (Foxbase Alpha) and Samiam (Soar)