Ten Years After ‘Laughter’

Michael Friedrich
Sep 9, 2018 · 2 min read
Rahim after a secret basement show in East Hampton (Photo: Julian Gilbert)

Ten years ago on this date, Rahim released our final album, Laughter. This is the most realized version of the Rahim idea: full-fledged songwriting, lots of clattery spackle bucket and trash can percussion, unusual vocal harmonies. It almost works! I miss these songs.

We recorded it in July 2007 with J. Robbins at the Magpie Cage in Baltimore. J.’s production is so vivid and detailed on this. We were under the deep influence of David Byrne and Brian Eno, especially Fear of Music and My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, and some of their atmospherics glint around the edges.

Because we were running lean, J. let us stay in a spare room of the studio during the 10-day session. For the most part, we bathed in the driveway using the buckets. That was punk. Huge groups of Baltimore kids sped by on bikes and ATVs on the main road. Mercifully, J. brought us home one morning to meet the family and eat breakfast and take a proper shower. My dad and stepmom took us out in Baltimore one afternoon for crabs. Chris’s dad visited the studio and sang on the refrain of “Dark Harbors.” We got a lot of support from family and friends. These are good things I remember about Laughter.

A short documentary about ‘Laughter’ (Credit: Casey Brooks)

The record took a bit of time to find its home with our friends at Pretty Activity Records. By then the band was flagging. We played a record release party at Urban Outfitters. That was not punk. Then we toured for a month, played a CMJ showcase at Lit Lounge, and never played again. I have a soft spot for this thing, though. It clunks in spots, but we had something to say. We have time traveled one decade since we made it, and it feels worth commemorating.

This post is obviously more nostalgic than promotional, but you can hear the record at Bandcamp and I also listed the 7" single for “The Same,” which preceded the album. Some green vinyl is still kicking around in a giant Rubbermaid bin in someone’s mom’s basement.

Michael Friedrich
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