
Aficionados of dreamy, jangly guitar, particularly if it reminds old heads of the “college rock” of yore—like early R.E.M. or any number of other groups, obscure to popular, ranging from North Carolina to New Zealand and beyond—are intimately and fondly familiar with the involuntary “close eyes/bob head” reaction upon listening.
Light Under Repair, the latest EP from Cincinnati’s prolific Hamlet (brainchild of singer/songwriter/guitarist Chris Wales) invokes the best of that era/ilk; songs like “It’s Been A Landline Kind Of Winter” and “The White Stars” could’ve perfectly fit any university radio station’s playlist back in the day, as could the harder-rocking “The Cost Of Your Moon.” But Hamlet isn’t a tribute act or purposely aping any style; it’s just how these highly enjoyable tunes turned out. Wales also cites a different inspiration.
“We all have our influences that creep into what we do, and my love of all things Robert Pollard can never be tamped down,” says Wales. “He’s probably why so many people I know write and record. But it’s really fun to hear what people hear in your stuff—Elliott Smith is one, and someone said Ride the other day—especially truly objective ears.” (Writer’s note: Not really hearing the Ride.)
Hamlet’s last effort, 2024’s full-length Camp Underground, was a more contemplative affair, just Wales and his guitar, both sounding a tad downcast. He ended up with a band outing—including strings throughout from Kate Wakefield (Lung)—on Light Under Repair at the behest of an old pal.
“Last October or so, my good friend (drummer) Jason Short basically said, ‘Hey man, let me know for your next project if you want me and (bassist Dan) Nolan to work with you,’” says Wales. “That was the fresh motivation to go bigger and more upbeat on this outing. Even my wife noted, ‘Wow, these songs aren’t as sad.’”
Wales considers Hamlet—named after a street in Columbus, where he lived from 1996 to 2003 and began writing and recording (“Our house was right next to a functioning Wonder Bread bakery, so it could’ve gone worse”)—to be solely a basement project, though he admits it would be fun to play this material live, perhaps with Short and Nolan, both members of fine multi-city band Joseph Airport. Either way, his modus operandi is unlikely to change—he’s going to be down there anyway.
“That’s called hiding out,” laughs Wales. “Having twin 16-year-old girls and a 14-year-old boy whose interests have moved far beyond hanging out with their parents allows for ample rock-room time. Usually, it’s me bugging them to hang out.” [Hamlet]
—Matt Hickey