A music-obsessed, retired San Francisco lawyer, and author of the rock & roll memoir Jittery White Guy Music (available on Amazon)... picking a random album or song in his collection every day or so and sharing a few thoughts.
On paper at least, Jellyfish are one of those bands I really ought to be listening to more often. Their brand of 90s power pop, given added baroque complexity (like a precursor to the New Pornographers), should be right up my alley. Yet as much as I like a lot of the songs in their relatively brief run, I've never quite fallen in line (generally preferring the solo work of members Jason Falkner and Roger Joseph Manning Jr.). Maybe there's just a little too much 90s alt.rock, a harder testosterone-fueled edge than most power pop; maybe it's just the musical intricacy that refuses to settle for catchy hooks.
Still, it's hard not to appreciate what they were doing. They come closest to straightforward power pop on tracks like "The Ghost At Number One," off their second and final album, 1993's Spilt Milk. It's still unpredictable, the twists and turns refusing to stand still; but there are also the sing-along bits that stick in your head, the chirpy "how does it feel" refrains that tether it to a discernible melody. And those moments kinda win out here.
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