The truth is out: In the interest of full disclosure, I played in a Grateful Dead cover band in high school. I feel like a weight has been lifted and my soul is liberated from the shackles of skeletons in the closet. This story ran in the Union-Tribune on Thursday, Feb. 26. Check it:
POP MUSIC
Welcome to Bob Weir's world of improv
By Chris Nixon
February 26, 2004
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DATEBOOK
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Bob Weir & Ratdog
9 p.m. tomorrow; 4th & B, 345 B St., downtown; $27 and $30; (619) 231-4343
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Tie-dyes and high-tech. Birkenstocks and binary code. Patchouli and PCs normally live in two separate worlds. But Bob Weir – grandpa of the jam band revolution and Grateful Dead vet – figures on using current technology to record a few studio projects in the place he spends the most time: on the road.
"It's still the notes you play and the notes you don't play," commented Weir during a recent telephone conversation from his Northern Californian home. "All the technology can be confounding at times. It always has been and always will be a double-edged sword. Back when the piano was the latest thing in musical tech, it was a double-edged sword. Franz Liszt, for instance, got hung up on making music that wasn't as lyrical as it could have been, because he was trying to show off the size of his hands and show off that he could do certain things no one else could do. There is always going to be that in music, the new technology not withstanding.
"At the same time, this technology allows us to make a studio album on the road, which is where we are most of the time anyway," said the 56-year-old singer-songwriter. "So there may be more studio albums coming out from the outfits I'm working with."
Weir's currently playing with the Dead (with the surviving members of the Grateful Dead) and his band Ratdog, which will perform tomorrow at 4th & B downtown.
Originally called the Warlocks, the Grateful Dead started playing around San Francisco in 1965. During its 30-year existence, the band revolutionized the music industry by providing an alternative model for success and by adding improvisation to the palette of rock 'n' roll.
By utilizing a grass-roots fan base fueled by constant touring, the Grateful Dead became one of top grossing musical acts of the 1980s and '90s. Since the Dead's groundbreaking formula, bands like Phish, Particle, Widespread Panic, Blues Traveler, Leftover Salmon and the Slip have taken to the road to spread the good word.
During its steady rise to fame, members of the group dabbled in side projects: Jerry Garcia with his bluegrass band Old and in the Way and his collaborations with mandolin player David Grisman, and drummer Mickey Hart with the Diga Rhythm Band and Planet Drum. With his work in Kingfish (beginning in 1974) and Bobby and the Midnites (in 1978), Weir has probably been the Dead's most prolific member.
When the Dead wasn't touring, Weir searched for new collaborations to explore. In the mid-'90s, he found bassist Rob Wasserman and the band Ratdog. Soon after, on Aug. 9, 1995, the 53-year-old Garcia died of a heart attack due to complications from his long battle with drugs.
"(Ratdog) started out as a departure – just a little vacation – from the stuff I was doing with the Dead," said a relaxed Weir, who seems to be at peace with his past. "When Jerry checked out and the band stopped playing, I was already full sail with Ratdog. At the time, I didn't really feel like going back into the Dead repertoire, so I just kept doing what I was doing with Ratdog."
With Garcia's death, the Grateful Dead decided to call it quits and Weir's side project morphed into his main gig. But he took a few valuable lessons with him: "Learning to stay fast on my feet, so to speak. Learning to improvise quickly and freely and learning to recognize a new direction whether that be coming from me or whoever's offering it."
Weir's improvisational view of rock helped develop Ratdog's style. Along with Wasserman, the former Dead singer cultivated his own interaction with Ratdog. Drummer Jay Lane, keyboardist Jeff Chimenti, guitarist Mark Karan and sax player Kenny Brooks joined the musical conversation too. In early 2003, bassist Robin Sylvester added his voice as Wasserman moved on to other projects (he's currently touring with Particle, according to Weir).
Ratdog looks to release another studio album in the near-future, touring in the meantime. Weir will also tour this summer with the surviving members of the Grateful Dead, known simply as the Dead. So the veteran musician still has a lot of songs to write, a lot of technology to discover and many more musical conversations to engage in.
"Practice makes perfect," said Weir. "The more you do it, the better you get. I'm enjoying singing more than I ever have before. I intend to be around for quite a while. I won't say that I'm just getting started, but at the same time I'm nowhere near done."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
Friday, February 27, 2004
Friday, February 13, 2004
If you wish upon a Starsailor...
James Stelfox had fascinating insights on his hometown of Lancashire, England during a recent phone interview: "It's quite shitty there, really." He had other good things to say too. Here's what I had to say about his band in the San Diego Union-Tribune Thursday, Feb. 12:
SAILING IN THE GENE POOL
Starsailor earns a spot in the Brit-pop family tree, new-generation branch
By Chris Nixon
FOR THE UNION-TRIBUNE
February 12, 2004
Brit-pop's storied history stretches back to rock's beginnings: The Beatles begat the Byrds, who begat the Stone Roses, who begat Oasis, who begat Travis.
From Mersey Beat to modern psychedelic pop, British bands used infectious melodies embedded in the guitar rock context to continually challenge America's musical dominance.
Welcome to the next generation: Starsailor.
Named after a 1970 Tim Buckley album, the British quartet broke out in 2002 with its Capitol Record release "Love Is Here." The album featured the singles "Fever" and "Good Souls," and immediately established 22-year-old singer-songwriter James Walsh as one of rock music's best young talents.
The shift from unknown underdog to heavyweight contender transformed Starsailor, but the band's worldwide success wasn't guaranteed from the start.
"In England, we knew it was going to be successful because the papers were talking about it for quite a few months before the album came out," said Starsailor bassist James Stelfox, who along with Walsh, drummer Ben Byrne and keyboard player Barry Westhead will play the Epicentre in Mira Mesa tonight.
"But we didn't think we'd sell any records in Europe, Japan or America even. It was amazing for us, to be honest. It blew us away. We can actually sell albums in America. That's like a kid's dream growing up when you're in a band. "I don't know why America has such power for the British bands, but that's just the way it is."
Starsailor's prosperity centered around the single "Good Souls," which reached the charts at No. 12 on the UK singles chart and gave Starsailor a foothold in the U.S. market. "Love Is Here" eclipsed that at No. 2 on the UK album charts. Both the album and the single gathered a devote following in the States.
"I don't think we're ever going to get great success in America," said Stelfox in his thick British accent. "I don't think we'll have the success of Coldplay, for example.
"That's good for us, really. We can come over and play for 1,000 people or 500 people. That's still a great achievement for us, even if we're not playing Madison Square Garden. We're just happy to come across the pond and play."
The band's much-anticipated follow-up, "Silence Is Easy," released stateside last month, found the band working with and firing a legendary producer.
While in support of "Love Is Here," the band made a stop in Los Angeles. In a chance meeting with Phil Spector's 21-year-old daughter, Nicole, the band discovered the producer wanted to work on the subsequent album.
"It was great working with Phil, I've got to say that," said Stelfox. "He's not worked with a band for 20 years or so. For him to come out of his retirement and say he wants to produce our record, we were just mesmerized."
The last time Spector had turned the knobs in the studio, the band he was producing left fearing for their lives. And this wasn't just any flimsy pop band: This was the Ramones.
Spector's love for guns spooked the leather-clad punk quartet during the recording of the 1980 release "End of the Century." After the Ramones album, Spector quit the business and lived in seclusion for the past 22 years.
Sparked by the newest generation of rock bands, Spector expressed interest in Starsailor after hearing "Love Is Here." The legendary producer helped out on two tracks from the new album ("Silence Is Easy" and "White Dove"), adding his trademark strings and orchestral flourishes.
Spector expected to produce the whole album, but Starsailor wanted to invoke their own sound for the remainder of "Silence Is Easy." They fired Spector. A few months later, the 62-year-old producer was arrested and charged in the shooting death of actress Lana Clarkson (Spector is free on bail).
"We knew how we wanted the songs to sound, and they were going in a different direction with Phil," said Stelfox. "He's got his own sound, doesn't he? Which is cool, a good producer needs to have his own particular sound.
"He's known and respected by the sound that he gets. It's just on the rest of the tracks, it wasn't the sound we wanted. So we had to be brave and we had to say it wasn't working and we carried on. We're happy we moved on. I think it's a great sounding record now.
"We knew what we were doing in the studio," continued Stelfox. "Not to sound arrogant, but we knew what we were making was a good piece of art."
Despite the Spector controversy, Starsailor continues to pick up high-profile fans, including R.E.M.'s Michael Stipe and Beach Boy Brian Wilson.
The quartet continues to combine the best British sounds of previous generations and an unrestricted sense of shucking cookie-cutter songs while blurring boundaries between genres.
For Stelfox, chart success and sales are secondary: "I just want to make good music with Starsailor as long as it feels relevant."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
SAILING IN THE GENE POOL
Starsailor earns a spot in the Brit-pop family tree, new-generation branch
By Chris Nixon
FOR THE UNION-TRIBUNE
February 12, 2004
Brit-pop's storied history stretches back to rock's beginnings: The Beatles begat the Byrds, who begat the Stone Roses, who begat Oasis, who begat Travis.
From Mersey Beat to modern psychedelic pop, British bands used infectious melodies embedded in the guitar rock context to continually challenge America's musical dominance.
Welcome to the next generation: Starsailor.
Named after a 1970 Tim Buckley album, the British quartet broke out in 2002 with its Capitol Record release "Love Is Here." The album featured the singles "Fever" and "Good Souls," and immediately established 22-year-old singer-songwriter James Walsh as one of rock music's best young talents.
The shift from unknown underdog to heavyweight contender transformed Starsailor, but the band's worldwide success wasn't guaranteed from the start.
"In England, we knew it was going to be successful because the papers were talking about it for quite a few months before the album came out," said Starsailor bassist James Stelfox, who along with Walsh, drummer Ben Byrne and keyboard player Barry Westhead will play the Epicentre in Mira Mesa tonight.
"But we didn't think we'd sell any records in Europe, Japan or America even. It was amazing for us, to be honest. It blew us away. We can actually sell albums in America. That's like a kid's dream growing up when you're in a band. "I don't know why America has such power for the British bands, but that's just the way it is."
Starsailor's prosperity centered around the single "Good Souls," which reached the charts at No. 12 on the UK singles chart and gave Starsailor a foothold in the U.S. market. "Love Is Here" eclipsed that at No. 2 on the UK album charts. Both the album and the single gathered a devote following in the States.
"I don't think we're ever going to get great success in America," said Stelfox in his thick British accent. "I don't think we'll have the success of Coldplay, for example.
"That's good for us, really. We can come over and play for 1,000 people or 500 people. That's still a great achievement for us, even if we're not playing Madison Square Garden. We're just happy to come across the pond and play."
The band's much-anticipated follow-up, "Silence Is Easy," released stateside last month, found the band working with and firing a legendary producer.
While in support of "Love Is Here," the band made a stop in Los Angeles. In a chance meeting with Phil Spector's 21-year-old daughter, Nicole, the band discovered the producer wanted to work on the subsequent album.
"It was great working with Phil, I've got to say that," said Stelfox. "He's not worked with a band for 20 years or so. For him to come out of his retirement and say he wants to produce our record, we were just mesmerized."
The last time Spector had turned the knobs in the studio, the band he was producing left fearing for their lives. And this wasn't just any flimsy pop band: This was the Ramones.
Spector's love for guns spooked the leather-clad punk quartet during the recording of the 1980 release "End of the Century." After the Ramones album, Spector quit the business and lived in seclusion for the past 22 years.
Sparked by the newest generation of rock bands, Spector expressed interest in Starsailor after hearing "Love Is Here." The legendary producer helped out on two tracks from the new album ("Silence Is Easy" and "White Dove"), adding his trademark strings and orchestral flourishes.
Spector expected to produce the whole album, but Starsailor wanted to invoke their own sound for the remainder of "Silence Is Easy." They fired Spector. A few months later, the 62-year-old producer was arrested and charged in the shooting death of actress Lana Clarkson (Spector is free on bail).
"We knew how we wanted the songs to sound, and they were going in a different direction with Phil," said Stelfox. "He's got his own sound, doesn't he? Which is cool, a good producer needs to have his own particular sound.
"He's known and respected by the sound that he gets. It's just on the rest of the tracks, it wasn't the sound we wanted. So we had to be brave and we had to say it wasn't working and we carried on. We're happy we moved on. I think it's a great sounding record now.
"We knew what we were doing in the studio," continued Stelfox. "Not to sound arrogant, but we knew what we were making was a good piece of art."
Despite the Spector controversy, Starsailor continues to pick up high-profile fans, including R.E.M.'s Michael Stipe and Beach Boy Brian Wilson.
The quartet continues to combine the best British sounds of previous generations and an unrestricted sense of shucking cookie-cutter songs while blurring boundaries between genres.
For Stelfox, chart success and sales are secondary: "I just want to make good music with Starsailor as long as it feels relevant."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
Thursday, February 05, 2004
Kicked in the Shiz-nins
Talked with James Mercer from the shiny indie-pop quartet about freezing rain, mold in his basement and the pressure to follow the critically acclaimed debut "Oh, Inverted World." Highly respected San Diego critic Chris Nixon calls 2003's "Chutes Too Narrow" "brilliant," so they must have done something right. Here's the article that ran in today's (2/5/04) San Diego Union-Tribune:
MANAGEMENT TRAINING
The Shins' James Mercer is 'sort of the leader of an organization' – he's learning by doing, and doing well
By Chris Nixon
February 5, 2004
On a particularly wintry cold January day from his Portland home, Shins' lead singer-guitarist-songwriter James Mercer contemplates the sheer gorgeous pitfalls and heavenly perils of an ice storm. Having lived his life in England, New Mexico and now Oregon, it's a phenomenon he's never encountered before.
"The trees are just bent over with ice," says the usually soft-spoken, now astounded Mercer. "There are a bunch of power lines down. Literally, you could ice skate down the street. It's really beautiful in a destructive kind of way."
Known for his symphonies of sunshiny pop and happy harmonies, Mercer's talk of gloomy weather might come as a surprise for those merely familiar with his reputation. But the 32-year-old songwriter knows how to mix the sublime with the bittersweet.
Mercer sings in "Young Pilgrim": A cold and wet November dawn / And there are no barking sparrows / Just emptiness to dwell upon / I fell into a winter slide / And ended up the kind of kid who goes down chutes too narrow.
Mercer's occasionally somber, melancholic lyrics, combined with the band's upbeat indie pop melodies, give the Shins a depth rarely seen in bands with only two albums to its credit. But the Shins kicked around the Albuquerque, N.M., music scene for a few years before getting national attention.
Formerly known as Flake, the quartet started playing together in the early 1990s. In 1997, Mercer started a side project known as the Shins. After Flake fell apart, he eventually incorporated his former bandmates to take part in the Shins.
Mercer's situation has changed in the past couple of years, but the singer isn't forced to run away from screaming hordes of adoring fans, yet.
"I don't have the situation where you walk out into the street and people recognize you, says Mercer. "The only thing I miss about the early days of the Shins is that I used to not have any responsibilities.
"Two years ago everything changed. All of a sudden, I was the person who was writing the songs, who was recording the records. One difficult thing now is that I'm sort of the leader of an organization. You have to develop management skills."
Along with drummer Jesse Sandoval, bassist Neal Langford and keyboard player Marty Crandall, Mercer turned the indie rock world upside down with its debut "Oh, Inverted World."
Like a child standing on his hands to see the world differently, Mercer and his mates reinterpreted artful pop. With titles like "Caring Is Creepy," the songwriter proved he knew how to turn a phrase (from "One by One All Day"): Oh, inverted world / If every moment of our lives / Were cradled softly in the hands of some strange and gentle child / I'd not roll my eyes so.
The 2001 release established the Shins at the head of the indie pop class. On 2003's brilliant "Chutes Too Narrow," the band stretches out further to add more sonic diversity.
Packed full of songs with titles like "Kissing the Lipless," "Mine's Not a High Horse," "Pink Bullets" and "Fighting in a Sack," Mercer lives up to the hype churned up by "Oh, Inverted World."
The songwriter reminds us that song lyrics should be poetry (from "Kissing the Lipless"): You tested your metal of doe's skin and petals / While kissing the lipless / Who bleed all the sweetness away.
Currently, the Shins are touring behind "Chutes Too Narrow," which came out in October of last year. The band will play at 'Canes Bar & Grill Sunday.
During his breaks from the road, Mercer is constantly crafting new songs, which brings us back to his home studio in rainy (sometimes icy) Portland.
"I don't really write when I'm on the road, so the whole thing of being on tour all the time is inevitably setting back the release of the next record for us," says Mercer, who hopes to release a new Shins album every year and a half. "Whenever I'm home, I'm working on songs daily. Working on songs, which really means sitting around playing guitar and goofing off. It's my job. That's when the best ideas come out: when you're not thinking about it."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
MANAGEMENT TRAINING
The Shins' James Mercer is 'sort of the leader of an organization' – he's learning by doing, and doing well
By Chris Nixon
February 5, 2004
On a particularly wintry cold January day from his Portland home, Shins' lead singer-guitarist-songwriter James Mercer contemplates the sheer gorgeous pitfalls and heavenly perils of an ice storm. Having lived his life in England, New Mexico and now Oregon, it's a phenomenon he's never encountered before.
"The trees are just bent over with ice," says the usually soft-spoken, now astounded Mercer. "There are a bunch of power lines down. Literally, you could ice skate down the street. It's really beautiful in a destructive kind of way."
Known for his symphonies of sunshiny pop and happy harmonies, Mercer's talk of gloomy weather might come as a surprise for those merely familiar with his reputation. But the 32-year-old songwriter knows how to mix the sublime with the bittersweet.
Mercer sings in "Young Pilgrim": A cold and wet November dawn / And there are no barking sparrows / Just emptiness to dwell upon / I fell into a winter slide / And ended up the kind of kid who goes down chutes too narrow.
Mercer's occasionally somber, melancholic lyrics, combined with the band's upbeat indie pop melodies, give the Shins a depth rarely seen in bands with only two albums to its credit. But the Shins kicked around the Albuquerque, N.M., music scene for a few years before getting national attention.
Formerly known as Flake, the quartet started playing together in the early 1990s. In 1997, Mercer started a side project known as the Shins. After Flake fell apart, he eventually incorporated his former bandmates to take part in the Shins.
Mercer's situation has changed in the past couple of years, but the singer isn't forced to run away from screaming hordes of adoring fans, yet.
"I don't have the situation where you walk out into the street and people recognize you, says Mercer. "The only thing I miss about the early days of the Shins is that I used to not have any responsibilities.
"Two years ago everything changed. All of a sudden, I was the person who was writing the songs, who was recording the records. One difficult thing now is that I'm sort of the leader of an organization. You have to develop management skills."
Along with drummer Jesse Sandoval, bassist Neal Langford and keyboard player Marty Crandall, Mercer turned the indie rock world upside down with its debut "Oh, Inverted World."
Like a child standing on his hands to see the world differently, Mercer and his mates reinterpreted artful pop. With titles like "Caring Is Creepy," the songwriter proved he knew how to turn a phrase (from "One by One All Day"): Oh, inverted world / If every moment of our lives / Were cradled softly in the hands of some strange and gentle child / I'd not roll my eyes so.
The 2001 release established the Shins at the head of the indie pop class. On 2003's brilliant "Chutes Too Narrow," the band stretches out further to add more sonic diversity.
Packed full of songs with titles like "Kissing the Lipless," "Mine's Not a High Horse," "Pink Bullets" and "Fighting in a Sack," Mercer lives up to the hype churned up by "Oh, Inverted World."
The songwriter reminds us that song lyrics should be poetry (from "Kissing the Lipless"): You tested your metal of doe's skin and petals / While kissing the lipless / Who bleed all the sweetness away.
Currently, the Shins are touring behind "Chutes Too Narrow," which came out in October of last year. The band will play at 'Canes Bar & Grill Sunday.
During his breaks from the road, Mercer is constantly crafting new songs, which brings us back to his home studio in rainy (sometimes icy) Portland.
"I don't really write when I'm on the road, so the whole thing of being on tour all the time is inevitably setting back the release of the next record for us," says Mercer, who hopes to release a new Shins album every year and a half. "Whenever I'm home, I'm working on songs daily. Working on songs, which really means sitting around playing guitar and goofing off. It's my job. That's when the best ideas come out: when you're not thinking about it."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
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