It’s not supposed to be this way, but my copy of the liner
notes from Diary, the 1994 debut from Sunny Day Real Estate, are
held together in defiance of gravity with a delicately placed
combination of tape and staples. To handle the lyric book without using
the utmost level of cautious, gentle page turning would result in its
leaves crumbling unceremoniously to the ground. This condition is due
to my downright obsessive relationship with that album over the years.
I studied the artwork, scoured the pages for vague clues about the
band’s shrouded lineup, and most importantly, I knew every single word
that leapt from singer Jeremy Enigk’s mouth.
What followed for Sunny Day Real Estate was one more record, a
breakup, a mass exodus of half the band to join the then-fledgling Foo
Fighters, a reunion, a mediocre live record, and one final album of
meandering prog rock. It’s safe to say that my absolute obsession with
Sunny Day Real Estate started and stopped with that tattered booklet
for Diary. While I was there for the breakups and reunions, and
even that dabbling in prog, my heart wasn’t in it. In a lot of ways, I
suspect Enigk’s wasn’t, either.
But despite all the dramatics, Jeremy Enigk took the time to focus
on his solo work, a series of albums far more dynamic and orchestral
than his work in SDRE. In fact, he took a lot of time. Return
of the Frog Queen was released in 1996; it’s successor, World
Waits, was delivered a decade later, and his latest, The Missing
Link, arrived late last year. For Enigk, the album is part of his
ongoing struggle to gain traction as a solo performer, as longtime
fanboys (guilty as charged) have a hard time letting his past die.
“Sometimes it’s frustrating,” he says. “A lot of times fans will really
only want Sunny Day Real Estate, and I respect that, but I would hope
that what I’m doing now is just as valuable.”
It is, seeing as Enigk is best by his lonesome—the socially
introverted frontman who possesses a delicate and oft-imitated
emotional howl that has the ability to bridge the gap between performer
and listener—even if it leads to the destruction of a few liner
notes here and there.