Couplets Skate
“Nadine” by the Fairer Sex
Rhymes that you’ll never hear in a Fairer Sex song: Crazy/Baby, Hair/Everywhere …
Girl/World.
“That’s probably the worst one ever,” says leading lyricist Zack Hart with a chuckle.
Much like Rhett Miller of Old 97’s and Tali White of the Lucksmiths — two of Hart’s favorite lyricists — the Fairer Sex bets the farm on its rakish prose.
The antagonist in the song “Penny” puts on her boxing gloves when love comes to shove. The skinny young gal in “The Fine Art of Fashion” is Off to the Bottleneck in her favorite skirt on Thursday night if she can get off work (presumably to grind on some hotties at Neon).
“The lyrics are actually unique and tell stories,” says Charlie Naramore, who is allowed to say such things because he is the bassist. “When you can actually have clever quips in a song that aren’t cliché, I think it’s impressive.”
Hart splits songwriting duties with keyboardist David Wetzel (also of Ghosty), who penned three of the 12 tunes that compose the Fairer Sex’s debut LP, Two Can Win. Released in October with support from Cincinnati’s Ionik Recordings, the album has received a handful of favorable indie reviews with a common theme: surprise.
“People are apologetic at how low their expectations were,” Naramore says.
“Especially our friends,” Wetzel adds. “They have to call us and say, ‘No — it’s actually good.'”
After tracking drums at Black Lodge Studios, the group — rounded out by guitarist Tim Schapker and drummer Brenton Wheeler — labored for more than a year at home adorning the arrangements with piano, trumpet, banjo and vocal contributions from guests Elizabeth Willard and Angie Solomon.
“It did take an ungodly amount of time, but that was mostly our fault,” Wetzel says. “We didn’t really start with the idea of making an album. It was basically a way to polish up some tunes we had lying around.”
One of the album’s brightest songs is “Nadine,” a breakup number with a silver lining.
“It comes from listening to a lot of country music,” Hart says. “When you get your heart broken, you can still make fun of your own despair.”
The band has performed outside the homey confines of Lawrence only once — a gig in Omaha that unexpectedly financed a hearty chunk of Two Can Win. A random barfly approached the group and offered $500 to take the stage early. He anted up, air-drummed through a few songs and scooted out halfway through the set.
“We must have looked like we needed it,” Wetzel says. “We’re open to more donations. We’re a nonprofit organization, in that we don’t make any profits.”
Crazy, baby.
