I was
genuinely blown away by the music of the Coffee
Sergeants when I first heard it - no small feat, considering how I jaded I was becoming during the cynical, cacophonous post-Nirvana 1990's. The Coffee Sergeants, with their gentle, intense songs and swirling
slide guitar - coupled with their trippy stage presentation (replete with a light show worthy of Winterland, circa 1967) - were a breath of
fresh air. They seemed altogether new, and yet firmly nostalgic in the way they invoked vintage psychedelia.
Later, I came to appreciate that
the Sergeants were, while great, not as original as I thought. Rather, they were heavily grounded in several influences, particularly the spacey music of late-60's, Syd Barrett-era
Pink Floyd and the early-80's, "Paisley Underground" modern rock of Dave Roback (Rain Parade, Opal, Mazzy Star). But,
that didn't lessen the impact of leader Carey Bowman's melodic, intelligent songs or the affecting,
imaginative, accomplished performances of the band - all of whom were Austin indie scene
veterans.
The Coffee Sergeants' first CD, Moonlight Towers (1993) reprised several cuts from
early cassette-only releases, Autumn Days (1990) and Songs from Minaret (1992), including the soaring, elegaic "Some Fair Day" and supremely creepy rocker "The New Crustacean." But, it added several new jewels, particularly "Its Not Me," which perhaps the sharpest pop song the band would ever record. Moonlight Towers met with uniformly excellent press, and it was, in fact, a wonderful, powerful record that deserved every bit of that praise. Unfortunately, the Sergeants' record label, the Austin-based Dejadisc, folded soon thereafter and the album went out-of-print - never to return.
In the wake of this disappointment, the band broke up in 1994.
(A moonlight tower, by the way, is a huge, antiquated streetlight used throughout Austin during bygone days. A few still stand, however. You see them in the movie Dazed and Confused and TV show Friday Night Lights, both filmed in Austin.)
After a reunion gig in 1996 - being "unwilling to resume their status
as ex-bandmates" - the Coffee Sergeants picked up where they left off with The Blessing House. That said, an air of gloom and regret crept into Bowman's songs - perhaps the result of some hard lessons learned.
Nevertheless, the quality remained, and the Sergeants proceeded to crank out consistently fine albums every few years for a decade - Consolation Has No Phone (2002), El Ariesh (2004), and Coffee Sergeants (2006). All of them have been self-released - perhaps wisely, considering the band's track record with labels - as the Coffee Sergeants led normal lives and held down day jobs, apparently comfortable with their status as local Austin favorites and the best-kept-secret in the rarefied world of psychedelic rock.
The Coffee Sergeants may be tough to find
in record stores (which, as of this writing, barely exist...). Outside of Austin, I doubt you will. But, thanks to the wonder of the world wide web, their albums are nearly all available - Amazon usually
has them, and most are available for download or streaming all the way back to their Autumn Days cassette. Last time I checked, the Coffee Sergeant's own website, www.coffeesergeants.com,
still offered their whole catalog plus generous MP3 samples of the same.
Carey Bowman inarguably plays a dominant role in the sound and vision of the Coffee Sergeants, writing and singing most of the songs and playing distinctive, plaintive, swirling lead guitar. But, they are a band, with particularly significant contributions coming from Bowman's longtime collaborators Spencer Berry (bass) and Mike Barnett (keyboards), not to mention recent addition Terri Uvietta-Teasdale, who plays the harmonium, an antiquated proto-synthesizer that lends the band much of their quaintly psychedelic air. In the late 2000's, Mike Barnett survived a battle with skin cancer, which perhaps explains the long gap between the release of Coffee Sergeants (2006) and Purple Martin Sanctuary (2012), which found the band stretching beyond their comfort zone, tackling country music and garage rock while maintaining an almost preternatural consistency and quality.
Sadly, Spencer Berry died suddenly as the recording sessions drew to a close in 2011, making Purple Martin Sanctuary something of an epitaph for Bowman's quiet, gentle sidekick. I am happy to report, however, that the Coffee Sergeants soldiered on with new guitarist Jeff Farris and, as of this writing, gig frequently around Austin in funky nightspots like the Carousel Lounge and The Whip-In.[top of page]