The fact that Greg Roensch is, as well as a singer-songwriter, also a poet, a fiction writer, and a filmmaker, makes perfect sense when you listen to his latest album, the intriguingly named Down at the Polystereophonic Dive Bar. For while it is full of pop-aware hooks and rock and roll riffs, addictive chops and intriguing sonic lines, it is essentially the sound of the artist having a direct dialogue with the listener. As the title suggests, these songs are designed to be one half of a conversation taking place in that titular bar.
And, like all barroom conversations, it meanders through many topics, shares thoughts and anecdotes, is full of wit and wisdom, is sometimes excited and heightened, and at others poignant and purposeful.
From the dark, fatalistic blues of “You Never Know,” that kicks things off, to the lyrically poignant “You Think You Got Something to Say,” to the gentle, whispered balladry of “Front Row Seat,” he can fire off salvos that are as thoughtful as they are sonically switched on.
“Eating In My Car Again” blends more whimsical thoughts with a Petty-esque sense of groove, and if you think that all songs about revolution are rabble-rousing, fist-in-the-air affairs, “Imagine It (Revolution)” offers a simpler solution and a more soulful and seductive sonic vehicle, and is as understated as it is important.
There is even room for a brace of songs, “Wonder Valley” parts one and two, which blend drifting, ambient instrumentals with delicate folk finesse, proving that this is an album of many moods and shifting sonic seasons.
Greg Roensch is a master storyteller, and Down at the Polystereophonic Dive Bar feels like the most rewarding conversation you could ever have leaning on the bar and sharing a few drinks with someone who has been there, seen it, done it, and survived to share his thoughts and stories with you.
