Not Irony, Just a Deeper Understanding

I’ve written a lot about the Wall of Sound. The headroom. What I’m really talking about is dynamic range. That breathing space between notes—the distance between a quiet, isolated piano chord and the moment the full band explodes into the room. This is what I live for.

For years, I lived in the on-air studio. My brain is hardwired for the 'Radio Reflex.' I don't just hear a song; I hear the gaps, the fades, and the hidden layers. I hear the engineer’s hand on the fader. It’s how you learn to talk up to a post or beat drop with perfect timing. So when I heard The War on Drugs for the first time, my radio ears perked up. I instantly recognized that same obsessive attention to detail that the masters—the Steely Dans and the Pink Floyds—lived for. It wasn't just a new band; it was a familiar language spoken with a modern accent.

Before I get to the new album, I have to take you back several years to the morning drives on the way to school with Ryan and Parker. There wasn't any grand plan—just a dad and his two boys spending quality time in the car. By now, you should know I can't sit in a car without music being an extra passenger.

I introduced them to all my favorites: Pink Floyd, The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, Zeppelin, Elton—all the bands that most middle schoolers in the 20-teens weren't typically finding on their own. But it was a two-way street; they introduced me to their favorites, too. I will leave the stories from all the Rap shows with Ryan for another time though. From those commutes, they developed a deep appreciation for the big, intentional sounds of the 70s through the 90s. Even today, we’re still texting each other new finds every week. It’s easily one of the things I love most about our relationship.

So it was no surprise when Parker turned me on to 'A Deeper Understanding'. The War on Drugs' 2017 masterpiece felt like a gift from a previous life. It’s widescreen music. It’s got that Bob Clearmountain layering and a production value that demands a real set of speakers.

A few months ago, I headed over to Bull City Records on East Main in Durham. I was in search of something from my wish list. While flipping through the new arrivals I find that Chaz, the owner, had a new pressing. I grabbed it, felt the weight of the heavy double LP gatefold, and headed home to the Groove Den.

There is a specific kind of magic in tearing off that clear cellophane. It’s the smell of fresh PVC and the anticipation of what’s about to happen when the needle drops. I turned on the Fluance, checked the tracking force on my Audio-Technica —the one with the iconic green tip—and let it fly.

It was heaven. Then came the skip.

Track 2. 'Pain.' Talk about irony. Right in the middle of that lush, soaring guitar work, the needle hit a microscopic defect—a dimple in the wax and it started skipping. In the world of the "Machine," this is a nightmare. If I’d bought this from a faceless online warehouse, I’d be arguing with a chatbot or printing return labels for a week. Not to mention the boxing and packaging for shipping it back, going to the UPS store. It’s all so painful in the 21st century.

But I didn't buy it from a server; I bought it from Chaz. One quick email later, and the reply was a simple: “No problem, I’ll order you a fresh one.” A week later, we swapped it out. No friction. No corporate script. Just two guys who care about how the music sounds. That’s the human algorithm. That’s why the local shop matters.

With the new copy spinning, the sound was sublime. The production on tracks like 'Thinking of a Place'—an 11-minute odyssey that would have made Pink Floyd nod in approval—was finally breathing the way it should.

It took me back to seeing them with Parker at the Red Hat Amphitheatre here in Raleigh on a random Monday night in June of 2022. Watching my teenage son lose himself in the same Big Sound that I’d tried to describe to him during all those morning commutes was a full-circle moment. All those years of playing the classics had led to this: a new band, a new era, but the same visceral connection to the music. When they tore through 'Under the Pressure' and 'Red Eyes,' the band was so tight you couldn't have slid a guitar pick between the notes. Sharing that hot summer night, under the stars, felt like handing over the keys to the kingdom.

Under The Pressure

But then the April newsletter hit my inbox.

After 20+ years, Chaz is closing Bull City Records. The lease is up at the end of April, and another local landmark is falling victim to the bottom line reality of 2026.

It’s a gut punch. I wasn't a longtime customer, but I had recently just found this shop and now I'm sad it's gone. When Chaz pulls the gate down for the last time, we aren't just losing a bin to flip through; we’re losing a classroom for the next generation of listeners.

I’m sitting in the Groove Den now, watching that green stylus track through the second side of the replacement copy. It sounds perfect. But as the needle hits the run-out groove, I can't help but feel the weight of the silence that’s coming to Durham.

Cherish your local shops while they’re still spinning. Because once the music stops there, it’s a lot harder to find your way back to the groove.

Retro Spin Liner Notes:

The War on Drugs – A Deeper Understanding (2017)

• The Studio Rat: Produced by Adam Granduciel and Shawn Everett. Granduciel is a notorious perfectionist, using vintage gear like the Prophet-12 synth to create a record that feels like a lost 1980s masterpiece found in a vault.

• The "Big Sound" Ensemble: While Granduciel is the architect, the band is a lethal unit including Robbie Bennett (keys) and Charlie Hall (drums). For extra soul, they brought in Lucius for the ethereal backing vocals on "Pain."

• The Radio Connection: Despite being an unapologetic "album" band, they dominated the airwaves. "Holding On" and "Pain" both became fixtures on the Adult Alternative charts, with "Pain" hitting #1.

• The Legacy: Winner of the 2018 Grammy for Best Rock Album. It proved that in an era of three-minute singles, people were still hungry for a deep listen.