
Loch Lomond
By Bob Ham
Photo by Chad Crouch
For some people, playing rock music is a lifelong pursuit and an obsession. Ritchie Young, frontman of Portland's Loch Lomond, is not one of those people.
"I went on this tour through the U.S. for something like a year straight and it got to this point when I was in Atlanta, Georgia. This band started playing rock and it was like my face started twitching and I thought, 'I never want to hear or play rock 'n' roll ever again.'"
When he returned home, Young parted ways with art rockers The Standard and started mapping out the kind of music he did want to hear and play with engineer Rob Oberdorfer as a side project with very strict rules. "I said, 'I don't want a drum set and I don't want a bass player and I don't want to play guitar,'" remembers Young, "'I just want to do other things.'"
Young has not only loosened those restrictions quite a bit, but he has also taken full artistic control of the band, moving Loch Lomond's sound from almost electronica to an acoustic instrument driven chamber folk sound that feels like a secluded mountain community's jam session caught on tape. Violas and cellos wend their way through tinkling piano lines while shuffling drums bolster Young's guitar and wavering falsetto as he sings of regrets and beautiful moments lost to time.
The band itself has also grown in size and stature, as the core membership of the group stands at eight people, most of which are classically trained musicians that help to turn Young's songs from something "really simple" into the lush compositions found on the band's latest album, Paper The Walls (out on Hush Records last month).
"I write the lyrics and the outline," Young says of the songwriting process, "and pass it off to these guys. They all turn to each other and start speaking really quickly in a language I don't really understand. And then we run through it again and it's weird and good. Then we run through it again and it's awesome."
The only issue that Young has run into is due to the fact that almost every member of his band are members of other bands as well, which means managing a rotating cast of players for live performances. "It's fun to play with a lot of people," Young says, "but it's also hard to manage everybody and what they're playing on stage. It works best if there's about six people, which is the core group that can play every show." He also noted that if everyone who considers themselves a member of the band were able to get together at once, that could mean managing 11 different people.
The positive aspect of having so many people involved and excited about the band is that, in Young's words, "there's a lot of energy" being passed around amongst Loch Lomond and the rest of the groups that they share members with (including Horse Feathers, Norfolk & Western, and Heroes & Villains). "The people in this band and our friends are going to try and ride this wave of energy this year and see what happens. What we all want to do is have fun and have new adventures and keep that energy going," says Young.
That energy is palpable in Loch Lomond's hometown, if audiences at their recent shows are any indication. The capacity crowd at the band's Musicfest NW showcase was held in rapt attention by the shape shifting arrangements and the chorus of vocals (at points all eight members of the band were singing together) coming from the stage. As to be expected, though, their shows outside of Portland have been until now rather hit or miss, according to Young. "Sometimes we'll totally win over an audience, and then other times, the rockers at the bar will be like, 'Quiet music? Eh...'"
Even though Young had much that same reaction to loud music, he understands that bands like his might inspire others to plug in and rock out in response. In fact, Young might be one of those people. "I was so sick of indie rock and rock 'n' roll," he says, "but now I just have this fantasy of putting together a speed metal band off to the side."
www.lochlomondmusic.com
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