Pond’s frontman bids adieu in outlandish fashion
To publicize the Goldcard album, musician/songwriter Charlie Campbell devised an offbeat approach. He sat inside a large box in a Portland record store for several hours while the album played endlessly over the sound system. Fans could talk to him through a slot in the box or slip through a CD to be signed. Campbell made a few more of these in-store “appearances” in the Northwest in 2003, all with the box in tow. He only did them as a favor for his new label owner, so he wouldn’t lose money on the release.
By 1998, Charlie Campbell had had enough of the music business. His band Pond had been dropped by their label after one album. Campbell didn’t seem to mind, as he explained in Goldcard’s liner notes: “I had always been ambivalent about touring, band practice, band meetings, band business, managers, business managers, booking agents, label execs, hotel rooms, broken strings, dead batteries, notebooks full of lyrics, and dismal backstage rooms. Eventually I came to hate music itself.” But he had developed a guitar sound, a “gimmick” he calls it, which inspired him to continue. So, he made a tape of songs, gave it out to musician friends, and then moved on in life, working in a library. The tape found its way to Off Records’ Chris Slusarenko, who convinced Campbell to make another album. Campbell agreed, but only if he didn’t have to tour or promote it.
Goldcard is a re-recordings of the tape, completed alone or with friends. Members of Grandaddy, Quasi, Sleater-Kinney and his old bandmates contribute, and songs vary like demos: experimental and adventurous. In other words, a treasure trove. Goldcard is Charlie Campbell’s last hurrah as a band musician. A fond farewell, indeed.