At some point in my life I smartened up enough to check out a record just because someone I was a big fan of in another context was somehow involved. This is what happened when an email for Mountain Climer’s Before You Turn Out The Lights dropped into my inbox with a producer/engineer credit going to Indiana’s Paul Mahern. I’ve been following Mahern for decades, initially encountering him as the singer of first wave U.S. hardcore band Zero Boys, whose Vicious Circle album remains a classic of the genre. He then went onto the poppier Datura Seeds and began producing groups like Sloppy Seconds. When the aforementioned email arrived I’d finally seen Zero Boys for the first time and they were phenomenal. So if Paul Mahern was involved, I was interested.

Having nothing more to go on than that production and engineering credit I hit play and… did not hear anything like melodic hardcore. Instead, “American Oak” kicks this album off unhurriedly, featuring intricate mandolin and acoustic guitar interplay accompanying slightly hushed vocals. I switched my expectations to something more in the (perhaps overly) broad category of “Americana.” Jeremy Climer, who leads this five-piece (although it’s basically a solo project, turns out), handles vocals, acoustic and electric guitars, and keyboards. But he’s backed by plenty of talent and, in addition to lots of guitars (David England, Shannon Lee Hayden, and Heidi Gluck all get a guitar credit), there’s lap steel and cello.

However, “Not Friends Anymore,” a song about the regret of irreconcilable differences, picks up the pace, moving more toward the Jayhawks or Drag the River. In fact, as with those bands, there is something undeniably punk in the undertow of Mountain Climer. While Climer sounds a little muted on “American Oak,” he opens his voice up here, and the rest of the album benefits from seemingly more assured singing.

Things ratchet up yet another notch with “From A Bedroom In Denver,” and if there’s a song on this record that might show the imprint of Paul Mahern, I think it would be this one. Very melodic, and not a million miles away from Datura Seeds, this noirish tale of death south of the border is probably my favorite song on the record. More straight rock and roll than Americana, it’s an excellent, hard-driving tune, and the new wave-ish keyboards are cool, too.

“Cut Enough Wood” comes back down to earth a bit, with Shannon Lee Hayden’s cello playing off drummer Devon Ashley’s steady snare and hi-hat pattern. Climer’s voice is expressive, lending gravity to another tale of interpersonal struggle with possibly fatal consequences. The song ebbs and flows and there is plenty of space in the mix, something that I cherish greatly after having lived through the loudness wars. “Horrible Things” goes harder in the new wave direction with buzzing guitar, what sounds like a synthesizer, and a singalong chorus. The chorus isn’t as macabre once you realize that Climer is contemplating what sorts of potentially horrible things he’d do to protect his child should such things became necessary.

There is straight heartland rock in “Ray,” a story of growing up too soon in… Tennessee, apparently. But this is perhaps more Alejandro Escovedo via the Midwest than Tom Petty. Climer is also from Indiana, birthplace of both John Mellencamp and Axl Rose, and that background surely keeps the proceedings here grounded. “Paper Gowns” is a breezy tune that doesn’t strike me as having quite the musical depth of the rest of the record, even if it is about dying alone in a hospital bed long after it’s too late to do anything about it. It still makes for a good cautionary tale.

Listening to “A Song For Mindy,” with haunting backing vocals by bassist and guitarist Gluck, it occurs to me that there is a noir vibe running through much of Before You Turn Out The Lights. Maybe the title is a giveaway. Anyway, here keyboards pulse behind an insistent beat as Climer spins another tale of death by misadventure. This tilts into garage rock territory, the choppy guitar not so far from Kid Congo’s playing with his Pink Monkeybirds. “River City” is a wistful, down tempo song with Climer’s more muted voice working quite well in this instance. The dark, brooding pop wouldn’t be out of place on a John Doe or Simon Bonney solo record. It’s a close second for my favorite track of the album.

Like the protagonist in “We Don’t Start Fights,” I’ve stood on a wild mountain or two in Tennessee, and here the record almost ends on a doubly somber note. With spare piano, Climer gently sings a song of finality. But the album really ends with a bonus track, a driving punk-pop tune in the vein of the Smoking Popes if that band used more keyboards. It’s also a song about dissolution, but brings the record to a punchier close musically, if not lyrically.

Having started with Paul Mahern, I’ll add that the production on Before You Turn Out The Lights is immaculate. Clear, spacious, lush, and bright, you can hear every guitar strum, click of the hi-hat, and pull of the cello bow. The drum sound, in particular, is nice and crisp, propelling the songs but not overwhelming them. Mahern is also credited as singing back-ups, but I’ll be darned if I can pick out his usually very recognizable voice.

Everything else aside, you don’t have to know a thing about Paul Mahern to enjoy Mountain Climer’s thoughtful and well-crafted album. Ably covering a good chunk of worthy musical ground with nicely cinematic lyrics to boot, there really is something here for anyone that isn’t afraid to turn out the lights a bit.

Rating: B

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