Music

To the Roof of the Sky   Year: 1998 | Run Time: 1:06:24

©1998 Meat Market Records. Produced by Bill Mallonee, Tom Lewis, Mark Smith, Vigilantes of Love. All songs written by Bill Mallonee. ©1998 cybrenjojosh (BMI). All arrangements: VOL.

Track List

    1. But Not for Long [3:01]
    2. Run Through My Veins [3:49]
    3. To the Roof of the Sky [4:28]
    4. Paralyzed [4:30]
    5. Avalanche [5:37]
    6. Doin' Time [3:44]
    7. Perishable Goods [3:38]
    8. This Time Isn't One of Them [4:10]
    9. Filigree [4:02]
    10. Isadora Duncan [4:37]
    11. Proving Ground [4:40]
    12. The Opposite's True [4:32]
    13. On the Verge [4:40]
    14. (Please) Leave Me the Bones [4:43]
    15. Farther up the Road [5:44]

    About To the Roof of the Sky

    With less production than normal, To the Roof of the Sky remains a very popular work among VoL fans. Bill Mallonee calls it "a composite of noisy Neil Young-like garage rockers with songs of new beauty and innocence, and some 3 am stuff that is more like a prayer of Thomas... or maybe even Judas." Even though this was a low-budget indie recording without funding (or constraints) of a record label, To the Roof of the Sky became one of VoL's best-selling releases. It was recorded in December of 1997 at Full Moon Recording Studios in Watkinsville, GA. To the Roof of the Sky is the seventh full-length studio album from the Vigilantes of Love, and its release was revitalizing in many ways. The band went into the studio on schedule with a brand new set of songs, but this time they weren't signed to any label. The studio costs went onto Bill's credit card. Remarkably, the band didn't interrupt their musical evolution nor did they skimp on material—these 15 songs clock in at over 65 minutes and include a number of new signature tunes. The opening rockers could have been on any of the recent albums, but the title song is unlike anything they've recorded before, a gentle, melancholy trek to the summit in the shoes of George Mallory, "leaving God knows what down below." Kenny Hutson's beautiful dobro and pedal steel recall older VOL songs like "Sick of It All" from Killing Floor, but the sound is fresh. With the superstructure around them collapsed, the band sold this album at live shows and through this web site, shipping disks out of the Mallonee home, and surprisingly they sold more in the first few weeks of release than they had any of their major label albums. "Avalanche," "Paralyzed," the setting is cold, the footing is unsure, but the songs have a convincing hopefulness that is conspicuously absent from Slow Dark Train. "Checking out of this cheap motel with the wind all in our souls / God shows his face farther up the road. To the Roof of the Sky was released on May 16, 1998.

    Did you know?

    Coming off of a frustrating label situation with their previous release, this collection was almost named Breach, which according to Bill is "a reference to the letdown of the superstructure calling itself the music industry. Like a breach of promise." There was a separate UK release of this album by A Startled Chameleon. Differences are in the packaging. The front insert is a booklet with the lyrics. The part where the CD is held isn't black like on the U.S. version, but instead is clear and there is a picture of the band. In the early stages of development, this project was shopped to Squint, who passed on it. There was also talk of having Tobin Hines (SDT designer) help design each CD jacket individually using homemade paper.

    Quotes from Bill Mallonee

    DATE UNKNOWN: This is hands down my favorite record we've made. I think there is the perfect blend of lyric re-inforcing ragged raw country-alternative rock music.

    DATE UNKNOWN: The record is a composite of noisy Neil Young-like garage rockers with songs of new beauty and innocence, and some 3 am stuff that is more like a prayer of Thomas... or maybe even Judas.

    DATE UNKNOWN: I wrote these songs during our last tour, at a time when the whole support structure surrounding the band, and particularly the relationship with our record company, was falling apart and failing us.

    Nov 24, 1997: We've been in the studio working on another one... (it's sounding fantastic... I know I'm biased, but it really is beautiful to see how this line-up has "owned" this material... and made it resonate with that passionate folk-rock abandon and fragile beauty... some noisy stuff... some 3am Bill and Kenny stuff... some beautiful band stuff like "Roof of the Sky" and "Avalanche" and a new one called "Isadora Duncan"... 16 songs in all...

    Dec 22, 1997: I'm in the studio today mixing the last three tracks for the new disc... it's all been so cool how it turned out... 16 songs... some noisy garage rockers a la Crazy Horse, some more "mature" pieces (like say "certain slant" and some acoustic 3 am songs kenny and I did... and some surprises... what a joy it was to make this one! (now if I can just figure out a way to get it off my credit card!)

    May 16, 1998: We ended up calling the record To the Roof of the Sky because we spent a lot of time looking up at the sky in the dead of many a night... after the wearying 3 a.m. load-out from the altar of whatever club or bar you'd just made your last confession...

    Jul 1998: The record thematically is about when all those superstructures are revealed to be just illusions, and they're kicked away, what are you left with?

    Jul 1998: We had just come off the road, and every wing and a prayer had been shot down, and we thought, "Well, we're gonna make a record!" And that's kind of where it went.... We did the record in two weeks, and then we did another week's worth of mixdowns.

    Jul 1998: I think the record has some deficits, though I think that one of those is a money thing. There should have been more background vocals. Kenny sings a lot more live. On the tracks, we had three or four songs in which he should have sung backup, but we just didn't have the time or money to put him in there.

    Jul 1998: I had this credit card sitting in my top drawer, and I thought, "You know, my wife and I think these cards are basically straight from hell, and we've never lived on them." But we did the math on it and thought, "If we sell 1,100 copies of this record—and we've got a 10,000 person mailing list—then we win—I mean, it's paid for.

    Oct 22, 1998: ...it's sold more in 16 weeks after its release independently than any record we did with a major label.

    Sep 2, 2005: Roof of the Sky is one of VOL's best... it was a sheer declaration of freedom... freedom from weird management, freedom from a label that was having real issues... but that was always life with us anyway... Roof is part reved up Americana that got real produced on Audible Sigh... and the somber acoustic tunes like "Farther up the Road" and "This Time Isn't One of Them"... these are some of my favs.

    A Review by Jason Killingsworth / Sep 3, 2001

    To The Roof Of The Sky, the Vigilantes' latest release, is essentially a glorified travel log. This devoted band has worked its fingers to the bone, continuing to manage a touring schedule that could send even the most stalwart musician into early retirement. You get a sense that there's something infinitely larger and more grandiose that is propelling this band forward, despite a swindling record company and disillusionment with the music industry. Rather than undermining the band's purpose, these trials have actually provided a deep well of experience from which Bill has been able to draw lyrical inspiration. You will find that a resounding theme on "Roof" is the picture of what God's grace looks like when the safety net has been drawn back and you realize that even your lucky stars aren't visible through such overwhelming cloud cover.

    The title cut, which examines George Leigh Mallory and his insatiable desire to reach the summit of Mt. Everest, holds striking similarities to the quest of this musical outfit. Mallory kept climbing toward the summit despite the bitterly cold wind and snow that beat at him from every side. He died a few hundred feet below the summit, but his faithful pursuit of the prize was enough to give his life a deeper and more profound sense of meaning than he ever would've found apart from the icy trail that eventually became his grave. Bill is on the same weary path and he sings to us of his journey. We can all relate to his songs because we are all in some sense on similar journeys -- trying to discover that summit which seems to be the most elusive thing in the world for us. We press on regardless. "To the roof of the sky/ What does she hold?/ In your room made of wind and of snow/ Leaving God only knows what down below/".

    There is an unmistakably organic quality about this independent release that is apparent whether the track is a blistering rocker or a stripped-down acoustic number. Bill and company spent two weeks creating an honest and cohesive piece of art which brings back some of the more traditional elements of their 1992 release, Killing Floor. Kenny Hutson, a remarkable multi-instrumentalist and the newest Vigilante, provides lead guitar work, mandolin, pedal steel, dobro, and lap steel, facilitating some interesting stylistic experimentation.

    As a whole, "Roof" provides a well-rounded musical entrée. There are parts of the album that are loud, rollicking fun, but there are also ballads that are both mournful and homesick -- forcing you to close your eyes tight and come to terms with that part deep inside of you that is too oft-neglected. In the liner notes, Bill speaks of "something so wild and extravagant in its pursuit of you that you're tempted, in your better moments, to call it love or a member of the Trinity...sometimes this apprehensions feels like hunger...but at other times it may taste like grief...but at least at that particular table, you recognize the scars on those loving hands that do the serving."

    Credits

    Bill Mallonee: guitars, lead vocals, harmonica, piano, mellotron

    Kenny Hutson: lead guitars, mandolin, pedal steel, dobro, lap steel, harmonies

    Jacob Bradley: bass

    Scott Klopfenstein: drums, percussion

    Chris Bland: bass

    Tom Lewis: toy piano on "Isadora Duncan"

    Mark Smith: piano, organ, percussion

    Produced by Bill Mallonee, Tom Lewis, Mark Smith and VOL. Place of Mystery and Recording: Full Moon Recording Studios, Watkinsville, GA. Legal Guy on the Case: Lee Beitchman, Atlanta. Artwork: Tobin Hines and Mike Chapman. Photography: Tobin Hines. Mastering by: Tom Lewis and Mark Smith.

    Liner Notes

    VOL would like to extend heartfelt thanks to wives (Brenda, Amy), families, friends, fans and benefactors who have nurtured us, loved us and been there through thick and thin. Special thanks to Josh and Joe from Dad.

    at first i thought about calling this collection "breach," breach as in broken promises...breach as being in a dangerous or misaligned position...breach, perhaps as in, "standing in the breach;" standing in the place of a break or a fracture; such as in a wall or in an ideal...or in a truth to be held for one's own salvation and therefore against all cost...but, perhaps, there are more subtle, less grandiose ways of being true...when all the illusions and props are kicked away and dismantled, maybe then a proper foundation can be dug and laid...

    when lyrics for this music first started percolating underneath my sleep deprived brain and then began pushing themselves through pen into notebooks, we were in the advanced stages of licking our wounds, applying balms and bandages to the last few years of a ritual of recording and heavy low-rent touring...always seeming to wind up crashing at the same motel (paint peeling off the fake palms) in some barren desert...to repeat the process anew the following year...i'm not always sure what we got out of the procedure...but the journals yielded a lot of songs, some of which are here...the other thing we got out of it was an education about the "biz"...and we learned a lot about where to place your faith...and where to live your life from.

    songs, sometimes, just show up like company unexpected, usually tugging at my sleeve (or nipping at my heels) to be written...songs can appear as friendly and warm or even rude and impolite...(sometimes you never know 'til much later)...as it usually turns out with my stuff, these would not be persuaded to take a number and wait in line; nor would they sit quietly in the lobby awaiting to be seen...rather, they crashed the gate, bullied their way past the coat-check girl, exploded into an already crowded room and insisted on being the life of the party...my first impulse is usually to try to get close enough to smell their breath, check their eyes...(are they packing heat?)...this time there were too many...so instead, i extended the right hand of fellowship, bought another round...and paid close attention to their story...we learned these songs from the road...and in some strange way, they were a a gift...a gift is something you're careful with...we examined the fragile contents ...and embraced what we saw...then we started our tired engine and traced the trail of crumbs right back to our own front door...and now they are documented...a sort of travel diary perhaps...or maybe a police report...

    we ended up calling the record "to the roof of the sky" because we spent a lot of time looking up at the sky in the dead of many a night...it is something we all do...so many times after the wearying 3 am load out from the alter of whatever club or bar you'd just made your last confession, we found ourselves searching star-spangled heavens...a bit numb to be sure, but, nevertheless, in a resolute way...just what is it you're looking for when it's just you and the wind and the stars? is it a clue? a sign? a voice perhaps or an answer?...and if an answer, well, then an answer to what?...an answer to the yearning you can't seem to scrape out of your bones? to the burden you sometimes hate but can't seem to shake? and is it within or without?...this raw movement of emotion going on we well beyond the confines of worn-out words and used-up phrases your use to describe your "niche" in the world...(why do the old creeds sound like the best poetry?)...boots on the pavement of some inner-city or scraping the loose gravel of some highway roadbed...were we trying to name something? a thrash inside you all the harder and to deny it gives lie to the indescribable preciousness of your own life?...If the sky gives back answers at all, we for our part, found ourselves to be no good at waiting for them...but at the very least we knew, that the same moon and star-lights were shining upon our friends and loved ones, a thousand miles away...and it was always easier to pray in a starry cathedral.

    for starters, there's a lot of material here...don't let that scare you...i think it'll make for an interesting ride...when you write about 50-60 songs a year your family gets rather large and you want them all(or some of them, anyway) to be seen when the play runs on opening night...i've been writing at this clip for about the last 5 years or so...it's good therapy...obviously i haven't been able to record them all...a lot of the smaller-quieter-fragile-kinda things have, in the past, been left out to make a more "marketable" record...not that we don't love the "noisy" stuff...it's just another side of the same coin...actually most some of the hundreds of songs I've written have never quite made it past the state-of-the-art-throw-it-down-quick-on-a-boombox methodology i've adopted whilst "doing demos" of new material...(so some of my best friends are these old dusty cassettes full of ragged ideas!)...when we labored for years under major label constrictions, i had to choose 12-14 songs and let that be the years crop...needless to say, now that we're free of all that, we hope to,(more and more) release as written...of course, as time and budgets allow...for me, it's not a matter of quantity over quality as much as it's a need for me to be able to step back and look at my life, my surroundings, my circumstances and the state of my soul...so i can make sense of it...i suppose if songs can be considered prayers and persistence a biblical virtue...then maybe i'm already on the way to manifesting the qualities of one cantankerous old, widow, you'll find some recurrent themes here...one of them is just survival...just getting through the darker days with something of a smile on your face and maybe a song on your lips...to sing and play each song with a few tears and some of desperation's sweat on the strings of your guitar...at least allows you to repeatedly name the beast, night after night...in hopes that you might purge it or show it to the door...and if, by chance, it happens to leave for a season perhaps then you can better appreciate the core of something that was underneath you all along...something so wild and extravagant in it's pursuit of you, that you're tempted, in your better moments, to call it love or a member of the Trinity...sometimes this apprehension feels like hunger...but at other times it may taste life grief...but at least at that particular table, you recognize the scars on those loving hands that do the serving ...all i know is that this yearning feels something life an arrow trying to find it's mark...and sometimes it's the target that appears under different guises.

    whatever or how much grace it seems takes to ride out the storms seems to arrive only at the precise moment you need it the most...(and even then there may well be some considerable small craft damage!)...as far as this record goes and all that led to it's making, we find we've been the unworthy recipients of such grace...time and again..(but then that's pushing much too far ahead of the process and way too fast to a resolution you are not always allowed to know or enjoy at the moment of your particular "dark night.")...and that's the way it is with all the best travel diaries...a healthy sense of impending disaster hangs over the page...one that hightens your sense, braces your hopes and freights your expectations with a real sense that today's deeds and choices mean a great deal...that the losses are real losses, and the victories are real victories...and that even one day every tear will be wiped away...so on this side of the diary, of whatever side there is, it really is about playing for keeps...and so maybe this is a travel diary of the internal sort...you can hope, with good reason that the outcome is good for all involved...

    on an important side note though; it is true sometimes that diaries can become a sort of coward's court of law for every angry. imaginary diatribe you see yourself delivering against a supposed enemy, but can't bring yourself, in real life, to take back to the source...such festering bitterness seems like a prescription for paralyzing the heart and what it was made for...

    and so in our own small case, in our own little lives, if there ever was any guilt we happened upon that needed a home, when it came right down to pointing fingers, we hopefully brandished them nowhere more forcefully...than at ourselves...

    peace, bill mallonee

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