One of two fine CHRIS CHURCH records being relaunched for 2021 by Big Stir as part of the SPYDERPOP ALBUMS package, BACKWARDS COMPATIBLE had the misfortune to see its initial release in the very first month of the COVID-19 pandemic. That unavoidable accident of timing meant that a large swath of music fans missed out on Church's ambitious reimagining of what he calls “Heavy Melody,” the '80s intersection of hard rock and power pop too easily dismissed by the hipsters of today. “The fun is relentless, and that is what this music is. A backdrop of wholesome music with depth... One thing is undeniable, this passion injected work is a breath of fresh air far removed from the current monotonous tones that dull the airwaves,” wrote Kevin Burke of THE BIG TAKEOVER, while POWER OF POP called it “a literal godsend, evoking the likes of Cheap Trick, Guided By Voices, Splitsville, Fountains of Wayne et al with 12 gorgeous gems that bear repeating.”

Further accolades from the likes of I DON'T HEAR A SINGLE (“No one is making an album like this these days. The guitar is back, thank God!”), THERE ONCE WAS A NOTE (“a pure shot of rock and roll adrenaline at a time when we need it most”) and MONOLITH COCKTAIL (“this album was born to be played on the radio”) testify to the fact that BACKWARDS COMPATIBLE remains an uplifting gem overlooked in the tumult of dark times, and one ripe for rediscovery. The riff-driven, radio-ready “Left In The Summer,” which kicks off the new single, hints at the heavy, melodic would-be hits that comprise the collection.

Now being relaunched for 2021 by Big Stir as part of the SPYDERPOP ABUMS package, LIMITATIONS OF SOURCE TAPE, Church's 2017 debut for SpyderPop, was for many their introduction to his work and remains an essential touchstone for those just now discovering him. Although far from the first release in his genre-hopping career, L.O.S.T.'s pristine and passionate pop ushered in Chris's now-customary dominance of Year's Best Album lists (GOLDMINE, IDHAS, THE LITTLE LIGHTHOUSE, TWIRL RADIO and more). “Something Completely” is only a core sample of the record's depth of melody... the marriage of diverse guitar textures, emotively inventive lyrics and Chris's unmistakable, impassioned vocals remains just as potent today as it did upon the record's release. No comprehensive collection of the best of the 21st Century guitar pop can be said to be complete without it.

Big Stir Records is proud to announce the March 27 release of the new album from CHRIS CHURCH, GAME DIRT. It's the esteemed singer-songwriter's debut for BSR, a self-produced collection with Chris playing all the instruments on 13 brand new tunes. GAME DIRT is up for preorder now on CD and digital formats at www.bigstirrecords.com/store and everywhere music is sold or streamed.

It's been hard to miss the continuing rise of Lenoir, NC's CHRIS CHURCH on the global pop rock scene over the past decade. Recent releases like 2017's Limitations of Source Tape and 2020's exploration of “Heavy Melody” Backwards Compatible have topped countless critics' “Year's Best” lists. It's equally easy to hear, if harder to pin down, why Church's music reaches beyond the boundaries of the power pop form. Undoubtedly, he possesses the requisite command of melody and a powerful, instantly-recognizable vocal presence, but his compositions have an unforced depth and visceral openness that can't be learned. Simply put, Church's tunes have what Neil Young – one of an eclectic clutch of keystone influences – would call “the spook”.

Church has followed diverse paths over 30 years of being an original musician. In addition to his solo work, he's performed, written and recorded with power pop bands and progressive hard rock/metal outfits and taken detours into musical experimentalism and composition for performance art pieces. Recently he's moved into new roles both in the studio (as a producer) and onstage (frequently with the star-studded Nashville-based cover band The Long Players).

Chris's brand new album GAME DIRT is once again something different and new, even by the standards of his exploratory career. It's less a response to the musical challenges of the pandemic era than the result of simply hitting “record” and seeing what happens. The final record reflects a looser, more straight ahead rock and roll element, adding a pinch of alt-country and '90s indie styles in with his pop rock sensibilities. Literally left to his own devices, Church has tapped into a new source of urgent creativity that might not have surfaced in a more perfect world.

Kicking off with the boisterous lead single “Learn” (from which Lindsay Murray's artwork takes its baseball-themed cues) and diving into the brief, insistent “Falderal” – yes, all the tunes have one word titles – the album's immediacy is clear from the outset. “Fall”, with its stately groove and intricate jangle, brings the implicit melancholy of the record into focus: “You can't just ignore that you're far too critical of yourself” might be the key sentiment here. Not that Chris is telling... perhaps more than ever, the lyrics are intentionally open to interpretation, and on the following track, the gorgeous mandolin-ornamented “Gravity”, the listener may hear the references to a fever that never comes down and “the death of subtlety” as reflections of either the realities of 2020, a more internal landscape, or the hazy crossroads where the two intersect.

As Game Dirt unfolds, Church makes it clear that, musically, the only rule is that there are no rules. It's thus that the twangy No Depression vibes of “Lost” and “Smile” rub shoulders with the epic “Trying”, awash with shifting time changes and bittersweet major-7th chords. There are the crunching riffs and searing solos of “Hang”, and there's “Know” (as in “know your enemy”), which sounds like the Brian Jones and Mick Taylor iterations of the Stones playing at the same time. There's the '90s alt-rock march of “Down”, the near-new-wave stutter of “Praise”, and a pair of sparkling Big Star-worthy ballads in “Removed” and the closing “Sunrise”. Each one is draped with hooks and indelible choruses that easily stand with those of their influences.

In less subtle hands and less uncertain times, the album might play as a virtuoso rock and roll history lesson. But Game Dirt is digging at something deeper than that, as Church leaves the edges rough and favors truth over polish this time out. It's an inward-looking record for inward-looking times, the sound of an artist pushing his own limits not just musically but lyrically as well, and there's a lot of stark emotion on display. While it's fluidly grafted onto the genre conventions of more songwriterly tunes like “Learn”, “Lost” and “Smile” (although the latter contains the telling line “I'm content to reinvent the undefined”), the looser compositions sport murkier, often dark stream-0f-consciousness musings. “Removed” opens with the words “anatomy of a failure”. “Falderal” begins “and I see for the first time, and everything is black”, its title signifying “nothing left of substance”. The title of “Trying” Is simply the end of the phrase “you can die trying”.

That's not to say that Game Dirt is bleak so much as it is unflinching, and all the more rewarding for it. One only needs to look at the tunes bookending the record to see that Church is spotlighting honesty, especially with oneself, as the key to growth. “Learn” is so cheerfully swinging that you might miss it: “When you're just about to sort it all out, that's the best time to doubt”. And it's no accident that Chris chooses to end the record on a note of hope that doesn't shy away from the weariness familiar to many of us at the start of 2021: “I just want to feel all right... tired of hearing the worst everybody's got to say, so I'm gonna find myself a brand new way to look for the sunrise.” That new way is, in a very real sense, what's heard all across the record.

Those who know Chris Church's music have come to expect an attention to pop songwriting craft, but here he reinvents himself to create a record celebrating reinvention. The fact that Chris plays all the instruments on Game Dirt with a hint of abandon and produced and mixed it himself with a distinctly non-modern sonic approach proves again how his disregard for expectations remains intact. So too does his gift for following a song wherever it may lead, and giving it the passionate delivery it deserves. So too, perhaps more than ever, does the spook.