Nashville Scene, April 2001

FELLOW TRAVELERS - Members of pleasing British pop band relocate to Nashville, set up shop at Slow Bar

The cover of Departure Lounge's debut album Out of Here depicts an airport bar, which is in keeping with its name; and its name is in keeping with its lifestyle, which has had the four members scattered across both sides of the Atlantic for much of its half-decade existence. Though Departure Lounge has its origins and its roots in the British pop scene, three-quarters of the group now resides in Nashville, where they've been recording and playing biweekly shows at the Slow Bar since February of this year. But even Nashville may be more way station than home - just a place to relax and have a few drinks before one or all of the quartet jets off to a new locale.

"We've never all been in one town," explains Tim Keegan, lead vocalist and guitarist for Departure Lounge. Drummer/flutist Lindsay Jamieson has lived in Nashville for two years, following the romantic pattern of, according to Keegan, "Met a girl. Fell in love. Had a baby." But keyboardist/guitarist/oboist Chris Anderson has a daughter and a girlfriend in England, which keeps him rooted to the isle. Keegan and bassist/trumpeter Jake Kyle drifted overseas in the last few months and are rooming together in Nashville while writing and rehearsing with Jamieson and whatever Middle Tennessee musician wants to stop by their home.

This freeform, gentle Britpop version of a jam session went public when the stripped-down Departure Lounge took up residence at the Slow Bar. Keegan had first heard about the venue while still in England, when he attended a gig by Nashville singer-songwriter Josh Rouse at which Slow Bar co-owner David Gherke played drums. The musical "happenings" that the band now mounts at the East Nashville hangout feature guest stars like the title members of Fleming & John - Keegan recently duetted with Fleming McWilliams on a version of "Islands in the Stream" at one show - and whomever else happens to be game for a relaxed evening of music-making. "It's sort of ‘Departure Lounge presents,' really," Keegan says. "What we have is a reasonably quiet Tuesday evening, gentle music...something to have a laugh, not to take too seriously. It's a way to say hello, really."

A few weeks back, Departure Lounge was able to appear at full strength when homebody Anderson flew over for a brief visit. The general state of diffusion in which the band exists might seem untenable, but Keegan says that the musical results are worth the logistical stress. "You can get disconnected as a musician sometimes," he says. "It makes it easier when you find someone who understands."

That cohesion comes across in music that updates the pastoral Anglo rock of bands like Aztec Camera and The Lilac Time, adding subtle electronic backing familiar to fans of dance music as a "cool-down" track. On Out of Here - released in the U.S. by Flydaddy as Out of There, with a significantly different track listing and running order - Departure Lounge creates pretty, supple pop music rich in instrumental ingenuity and rhythmic texture. On cuts like "The New You" and "Stay on the Line," Keegan's high, yearning vocals add another wispy layer to the band's delicate melodicism; and on the fragile "Slow News Day," Departure Lounge uses muted guitar and buried hooks to reach the same near-intangible pitch that made magic for The Velvet Underground on its third album and for Crosby, Stills & Nash on songs like "Guinevere."

Keegan attended university in his homeland from 1985 to 1988, during what he calls "the golden age of British indie pop," when The Smiths, The Cure, New Order, and Prefab Sprout were all pretty much at the peak of their powers. For Keegan, who grew up as a fan of bedrock-rock on the order of Elvis, Buddy Holly, and The Beatles, the explosion of dreamy guitar-based pop in England was a revelation that inspired him to pick up a guitar. "I'm still kind of learning all the time," he admits now, "but it's what you're exposed to early on that influences you most."

In the case of Departure Lounge, Keegan says, "I'm a bit of an indie-pop guy. [Lindsay] is more into the atmospheric - Talk Talk, Cocteau Twins. Jake is jazzy. Our next record will be more of an amalgam."

That as-yet-unfinished sophomore effort is being financed "all on our own...with the help of our publishers." Keegan also insists that the second album - which currently has no U.S. distribution plan established - will make a better intro to Departure Lounge than the hacked-up domestic version of the band's debut. (Although, if you can get your hands on the U.K. version, Keegan asserts that it's "more coherent.")

"We haven't done ourselves any favors," he says, and that extends to some name confusion that plagued the group in its early years. The band was originally called Homer, then Tim Keegan & the Homer Lounge - "a transitional thing, not worth getting into" - before the foursome gathered around the concept of Departure Lounge and reached "the end point of where we were getting to with all that nonsense."

By now, Keegan is well used to the weirder aspects that come with making a business of one's music. He played with Robyn Hitchcock extensively during the early '90s and got an education in cult stardom. And he's had to deal with the notoriously fickle and savage British rock press, who have so far been kind to Departure Lounge, with a few predictable exceptions. "It used to piss me off," he says. "Why don't they write about the music? But there's good things about [the British press]. It is exciting. I mean, they're so mean! But I haven't really read them for a few years.... It's not to be taken seriously."

While he searches for a new record deal in the States and prepares to get the second installment of the Departure Lounge adventure into the U.K. racks later this year, Keegan chills out with his friends and bandmates, watching in comfort as the world zooms on its way outside his window. And when he needs to make a little money, Keegan says in his genteel British accent that he'll "do bits and bobs... turn my hand to the odd thing" - whatever doesn't interrupt the mellow, waiting-out-rush-hour-at-the-corner-pub groove in which Keegan and his fellow travelers live their lives. Whatever can't be taken too seriously.

Noel Murray