We try to create songs you can crawl into. I’d hate to think anything I write excludes anyone,” says Scott McMicken of Philly’s irrepressibly charming pop beast, Dr. Dog. True children of the British Invasion, Dr. Dog is also kin to beautiful bedsit weirdoes like R. Stevie Mooreand Joe Meek, creators of warped ditties that usher us off toward a brighter, greener shore. “I don’t understand why people would write anything else,” says Toby Leaman, McMicken’s songwriting foil. “You want to give people something to hold onto.”

With a moniker resembling a lost Muppet or a new show on Animal Planet, Dr. Dog (which also includes Frank McElroy,Juston Stens and Zach Miller) layers honey vocals over a glistening ocean of warm, intriguing sounds. There’s echoes of The Beach Boys, Crosby & Nash and Supertramp but there’s no straight line to any one influence. “It’s no small feat to sound like those guys but we’ve always written songs and let them tell us what they want to sound like,” offers Leaman. “Scott and I have been playing together since we were 15, and we’ve always played original material. We initially tried to emulate Pavement or Nirvana but over time we dug into the usual big stuff.”

One hears that big stuff all over the band’s new studio release, We All Belong, a shimmering set that compares favorably with Revolver-era Beatles and David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust. “Bowie’s fuckin’ awesome, man,” chirps Leaman. “I gave Ziggy Stardust to a co-worker at a vet’s office I was working at. I wrapped it real nice inside a petrified dog turd in a box.” [laughs]

The band took its name from mishearing Captain Beefheart’s song “Doctor Dark.” McMicken says,“What appeals to me about it is the various possibilities, like My Morning Jacket, who are my favorite band on the planet. They are a perfect band—who they are as individuals, how they interact, their respect for each other.”

In the past couple of years, Dr. Dog has seen greater attention in the indie scene and a growing audience in the jam world. This allowed the band to expand from its humble origins to a swanky new24-track rig for the home studio where it created We All Belong. “Finally having this equipmentallowed us to push the lil’ worlds inside our songs. It gives you more of a view,” says McMicken.

Adds Leaman, “When we were doing those early home recordings we were going for that big sound but we only had eight-tracks. We got as much out of them as we possibly could. We overdub everything!

We’ll overdrive the board to see what happens. Usually it’s pretty awesome.” A welcoming tendril reaches out from their music; it’s both their infectious melodies and the universal theme  they explore. “Dreams, death and aging come up a lot. Interestingly, guilt and jealousy, too. We want all these different flavors and contrasts to feel alive,”remarks McMicken.

Unique sounds abound in Dr. Dog’s work. Peculiar squiggles and bent notes scuttle across your speakers, leaving you wondering just what produced that noise. There’s a rough grandeur to their classic poppeppered with happy accidents. “You try to retain those things that happen instantaneously. You can’tget those back,” remarks McMicken.

“We get our tape used from a studio that does mostly hip-hop,” says McMicken. “Pretty early onwe stopped erasing the tapes and just put our stuff over what’s already there. You get this cool bleed.The first track on We All Belong has a loop that was already on the tape. There’s a part in ‘Ain’t It Strange’ after the first chorus where we put a mic high in the room and we marched in beat around the room while Zach played with the volume on this weird organ.”

The band is excited about taking the new material on the road. While less meticulous than its studio work, their concerts leap into your lap and lick your face with a puppy’s energy. “I always feel like an asshole when I walk off stage and feel I didn’t have as good a time as I could have,” says McMicken. “Live,we try to ensure we as people get what we can out of it. And the audience, too.” [laughs]

HAIR OF THE DOG
A Few Choice Ancestors in the Evolution of Dr. Dog

THE HOLLIES - BUTTERFLY

A bejeweled psych artifact thatfinds Graham Nash and company floating through the cosmos withan inviting grin. Richly clever studio trickery skips with stunning harmonies, offering us a view from the hill above the last innocent throes of the ‘60s flower power revolution.

PAUL McCARTNEY - RAM

Macca’s second solo album has a handcrafted beauty that reflects his bucolic marriage to Linda and his happier relationship to recording post-Beatles. A palpable sense of play infuses every track. Fromthe chunky pop of “Smile Away” to the gently ornate sweep of “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey,” Paul hasrarely been so easygoing orinstantly pleasurable.

VELVET CRUSH - TEENAGE SYMPHONIESTO GOD

Indie-pop cult faves, the Velvet Crush are a staple on heaven’s jukebox. Taking a line from Brian Wilson as their starting point, this gem from 1994 is a rousing amalgamation of The Byrds’ jangle and Big Star’s flawless compositional acumen. Like youth itself, everything feels so alive, and every kiss, every hurt seems like it might last forever. Glorious.