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It was June of 1990 when Kramer and Dean Wareham last made a record together, Galaxie 500’s swan song This Is Our Music. “Things were a little tense in the band at that point,” says Dean. “But we had fun too. There were exciting musical moments that I remember vividly, and it was always something that Kramer suggested, like, ‘hey, why don’t you play something up high on the neck for ‘Fourth of July?’ I also remember we had to start late one day because Kramer insisted we had to attend the Friday matinee premiere of Total Recall.”
Their relationship extended beyond the studio, as Kramer hit the road with the band as their live sound engineer on European and U.K. tours, often sharing a twin hotel room with Dean. Yet with the demise of Galaxie 500 (the critically acclaimed This Is Our Music was their last album), Kramer and Wareham’s paths diverged.
Back then, they would not have guessed it would be 34 years until they went back into the studio together. Over time, they kept in touch, with Kramer gently reminding Dean, “it’s crazy we haven’t made a record since then!” But it wasn’t until the pandemic, after Dean lost a couple of close friends, that he realized it was time to stop talking about making a record and just make it happen.
The end result, That’s the Price of Loving Me, was recorded in just six full days in the Eagle Rock neighborhood of Los Angeles. Kramer decamped from his home in Asheville, N.C., and stayed with Dean and his wife Britta Phillips in Echo Park. And in a nod to the past, they once again took a break from recording one day to catch a matinee (this time: Kurosawa’s Ran).
Across That’s the Price of Loving Me’s 10 tracks, you can hear traces of Wareham and Kramer’s earlier work together, but today the chord progressions are more complex – drawing influence from Bacharach, Gainsbourg, Norma Tanega – and the arrangements are too. Yet Wareham’s signature electric guitar stylings still anchor the songs. Before he opens his mouth to sing, you can recognize his voice in the guitar lines. “Kramer insisted that I play all the guitars on this record,” says Dean. “And we worked quickly. Kramer believes that two takes yield more treasure than twenty, and he always seems to have the song mapped out in his head right away.”
Kramer leaves his musical fingerprint throughout; playing acoustic and electric piano, pump organ, celeste and various synthesizers. Phillips (who is also half of the project Dean & Britta) plays bass and adds backing vocals, while drums were played by longtime collaborators Roger Brogan (Spectrum, Alison’s Halo) and Anthony LaMarca (the War on Drugs). Gabe Noel, the extraordinary L.A. session cellist, joined on four tracks he arranged on the spot without hearing a single note beforehand. Vocally, Dean’s range is lower, closer and more intimate than it was in 1990—though he still hits high notes on occasion, like on the Nico cover “Reich der Träume,” sung impeccably in German.
The lyrics on That’s the Price of Loving Me are melancholic and witty in equal measure, whether Wareham is mourning a friend on “The Mystery Guest” (structured as an acrostic poem), or taking delight in the beauty of his electric guitar: “We’re Not Finished Yet” might at first glance sound vaguely dirty, but is actually dedicated to his 1968 Gibson ES-335.
The lead single, “You Were the Ones I Had to Betray,” is driven by Noel’s cellos, and unfolds like a pack of cards being dealt. Its lyrics ruminate on friendship and betrayal. The title track pulses with conga rhythms and Kramer’s vintage Moog synthesizer solo, while Dean muses on the life of a performer and the sacrifices it demands: we’re out of canticles to learn, out of melodies to burn, out of silk and out of suede, out of cities to invade.
Elsewhere, Dean revisits Mayo Thompson’s “Dear Betty Baby,” creating a symmetry with Galaxie 500’s earlier cover of The Red Krayola’s “Victory Garden.” This time, he pulls from Thompson’s lone solo record, Corky’s Debt to His Father.
That’s the Price of Loving Me is Dean’s fourth solo album and his first for Carpark Records. The album’s sonic palette occasionally hints at Galaxie 500, but the passage of time is front and center. “Imagination is memory,” says Dean. “The working over and expanding of anything and everything we can remember.”
“34 years is a long time,” says Kramer. “But I love Dean, so it was worth the wait. Going back into the studio with him again felt like we’d never been apart. And when the work was done, I felt like it couldn’t have been better. There was a ‘full circle’ air around us that still lingers. I’m grateful for having been invited inside again, and for the emotional opportunities that a truly deep and personal collaboration can offer. It’s incredibly rare, and I’d be surprised if I feel anything even remotely like this again.”
