In 1994, after two albums, the Vulgar Boatmen – the long-distance partnership of two musicians, each leading his own live lineup – faced an uncertain future. Robert Ray, originally from Memphis, was (and is) a professor of film studies at the University of Florida in Gainesville. Dale Lawrence, a former student of his, was living (as he still does) in Indianapolis. An Indiana University grad, he’d previously been a hero in Bloomington’s early punk rock scene. Singly and together, they had established the Boatmen’s finely honed blend of rhythmic insistence and evocative depth. You and Your Sister (1989) and Please Panic. (1992) established the template: enigmatic lyrics from a non-existent short story anthology set to tunes that seemed instantly familiar without quite being so. They had attracted a cult following, some Midwest airplay (acknowledged here with a namecheck for Chicago’s WXRT in “Wide Awake”) and a fair bit of critical fervor. (Thanks to Anthony DeCurtis, then the magazine’s reviews editor, I was able to give Please Panic. four stars in Rolling Stone, calling it “a translucent collection of eloquent beauty and delicate vigor.”)
