The point of the Belly Up's new series? 'You want to catch them here before they're too big to play here'
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
December 28, 2006
At first glance, the Belly Up Tavern's new music series Artists on the Edge evokes an obvious question: Is this just a marketing ploy or is it a music series with substance?
After spending a few minutes with the club's director of marketing and events, Beth Bennett, and talent buyer Chris Goldsmith, it's clear the answer is affirmative in both cases: It's a marketing ploy with an altruistic purpose.
In the interest of attracting a younger audience and rejuvenating the club's image, the 34-year-old establishment in Solana Beach ramped up Artists on the Edge to selectively give exposure to cutting-edge bands making a stop in North County.
“There's definitely been a conscious effort to reconnect with younger audiences,” said Goldsmith, a veteran talent buyer in his second stint with the club. “When I was here in the late '80s and early '90s, I think the club was very in touch with that audience. But, I think then the booking philosophy froze in time and musical tastes didn't.”
Beyond the benefit for young bands and young audiences, series like Artists on the Edge give music lovers a way to experience emerging music without being told “this is the latest thing and you have to listen to it.” Young or old, audiences don't need corporations deciding their musical tastes for them. As Goldsmith put it: “This series is great for people, whether consciously or unconsciously, who are fed up with having their music mashed up and spoon-fed to them.”
Bennett and Goldsmith joined the Belly Up staff at the beginning of 2006, in the wake of new ownership and a new focus on updating the artists booked at the venerable club.
“Since Beth and I have been back, we really tried to readjust and go out of our way to bring in younger music and developing music,” added Goldsmith, speaking by phone from the venue's offices. “As opposed to sitting back and booking the same stuff we've been booking for years, although we still do that as well; we tried to avoid booking exclusively what we've been booking and try new things.”
So the duo set upon the task of revamping the perception of the Belly Up as solely a roots rock venue. Since its inception four months ago, the Artists on the Edge series has highlighted varied artists ranging from the dub reggae cover band the Easy All Stars to the synth-pop scenesters Ladytron.
The one factor uniting this diverse group? Come and see these bands now in a small, intimate setting before they blow up big.
“These artists are on the edge of being discovered, and being discovered by the mainstream,” said Goldsmith. “I think that's our point here. You want to catch them here before they're too big to play here. And these are artists that we think are going to take that trajectory.”
Bennett added: “For example, one of our November artists was Silversun Pickups. We had a great sold-out show here. They just played 94.9's Christmas show at an arena in front of 4,500 people (a few weeks ago). So the people who came to the club got an intimate experience and got to see them close up on a $6 ticket, versus (the band's) next show where you were with 4,500 other people.”
The series' selection process is simple: Goldsmith books the bands, then he and Bennett choose the artists to highlight by including them in the series. In essence, the Belly Up hasn't drastically changed the bands it's booking within the past four months, just the way it promotes them.
The Belly Up's booking of Phoenix – one of the early featured bands – gives a little insight into the thought process behind the Artists on the Edge series.
“A group like Phoenix, we really didn't know how it was going to go one way or another,” admitted Goldsmith. “But we put them in Artists on the Edge. We gave a context to promote with, an additional context beyond just the band. I booked them because they are great. People from Lou's Records and people who saw them at Coachella said they were a great band and you have to get them in.
“Even though they hadn't sold a lot of records and didn't have a lot of radio play, we just wanted to have them in,” adds the club's talent buyer. “We ended up doing 450-500 people, close to selling out. It showed us that we were really on the right track.”
Bennett said the extra promotion for emerging bands seems to be working, drawing crowded rooms for almost the entire series. But beyond the benefit to the club, Bennett and Goldsmith feel they are doing the San Diego music community a service by exposing them to new music.
“There is a lot of corporate spoon-feeding that goes on in the music industry,” said Goldsmith. “I think it's bad for the music industry and it's bad for the music scene.
“That's why it's important to emphasize new music all the time. The sense of discovery is one of the driving forces in music and it's what sustains it.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
A FEW FAVORITES
The Artists on the Edge series brings attention to such worthy artists as acoustic masters Andrew Bird and DeVotchKa, with their quirky take on Eastern European folk music.
Series organizers Beth Bennett and Chris Goldsmith don't want to play favorites when it comes to past shows, but here are a few shows that stood out in their minds:
Bennett: “I think I would definitely say Phoenix. It was just a really upbeat, rocking show. There were a lot of really good people in the house and everybody was just having a good time with it.
“I would say BT is another one. BT is a DJ who usually does this techno club-vibe thing. But this show was with a live band; it was called 'This Binary Universe' (also the name of his latest album). (The show) also had a lot of visual effects. It was just really interesting and different.”
Goldsmith: “I think seeing Phoenix was the ultimate in what we hope this series accomplishes. For me, another show I loved was the Silversun Pickups, which was just a great show. I just love them and I think they're going to be something to watch.
“We also like to emphasize the local connection and include local stuff. That Greg Laswell show is a great example of that. We try to make it not just about national touring acts. We want to include some of the great local talent as well.”
– CHRIS NIXON
THE INDIE CROWD
The Artists on the Edge series runs four or five times a month at the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach. To check for upcoming shows at the club, call (858) 481-8140 or log on to www.bellyup.com. Prices per show vary.
Here's a look at bands that have performed under the Artists on the Edge banner since the program began:
September: Phoenix, Rogue Wave, Andrew Bird
October: Ladytron, Mofro, Easy Star All-Stars, Bonnie Prince Billy, Citizen Cope
November: BT, The Aggrolites, Sonya Kitchell & Ben Taylor, The Album Leaf, Silversun Pickups
December: Amos Lee, Shooter Jennings, Vegitation, DeVotchKa
Down the road
Here are January's Artists on the Edge shows:
Jan. 11: Greg Laswell, with Anya Marina and Ryan Calhoun
Backed by cascading guitar riffs and his world-weary vocals, San Diego singer-songwriter Laswell writes beautifully crafted indie pop songs that are gaining an audience beyond the confines of Southern California.
Sounds like: Coldplay on a rainy day
Tickets: $10 advance, $12 day of show
Doors: 8 p.m.; show: 9 p.m.
Jan. 14: Rhett Miller
Shucking the cow-punk twang of his old band for more traditional songcraft, the Old 97's lead singer heads in his own direction in support of his sophomore solo effort, “The Believer.”
Sounds like: Elliot Smith all pumped up on pop production and mainstream accessibility
Tickets: $18 advance, $20 day of show
Doors: 7 p.m.; show: 8 p.m.
Jan 22: Cold War Kids
Embracing oddball pop wrapped in rock sensibility, this Fullerton-based quartet created its own sound on the 2006 debut “Robbers and Cowards.”
Sounds like: Rock band Spoon fronted by psych-folk artist Devendra Banhart
Tickets: $6
Doors: 8 p.m.; show: 9 p.m.
Jan. 25: Carbon Leaf
Poised on the edge if mainstream radio airplay on the heels of the cleverly titled “Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat,” this five-piece oozes effortless pop songs.
Sounds like: Gin Blossoms and Counting Crows, a decade after the fact
Tickets: $12 advance, $14 day of show
Doors: 8 p.m.; show: 9 p.m.
– CHRIS NIXON
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
Psych-folk 101
Joanna Newsom leads a pack of modern dreamers reinventing a genre
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
December 14, 2006
In pop music, three chords and a catchy chorus just doesn't cut it anymore. If you hadn't been paying attention to folk music these days, a group of musicians is breathing new life into the tired genre with fantastic imagery and an outsider mentality.
Though coming at folk music from different angles, artists such as Devendra Banhart, Animal Collective, Vetiver, DeVotchKa and Faun Fables have been grouped together under an umbrella name: psych-folk.
As opposed to the politically driven music emerging from living rooms during the New York folk scene of the 1960s, the artists of the psych-folk movement are dreamers using fanciful allegory and rich layered compositions to reinvent folk. Also known as New Weird America, these artists provide whimsical escapism instead of cutting political satire.
Enter psych-folk singer Joanna Newsom, with her huge orchestral harp in tow.
Born into a family of musicians, the 26-year-old singer-songwriter grew up in the former gold-rush town of Nevada City in Northern California. She's been playing the harp for almost 20 years, bringing an Appalachian down-home feel to her indie folk sound.
“First of all, the harp has this bad reputation,” said Newsom in a 2003 interview with freewiliamsburg.com. “It's been used for easy schmaltzy crap. The harp is capable of much more expressiveness. It doesn't have to be this sloppy, over-the-top, dramatic instrument. It can be really delicate and yet abrasive at the right time. I am producing sounds that people are not used to hearing from the harp.”
After gaining a national audience touring with singer Will Oldham (aka Bonny “Prince” Billy), Newsom signed to Drag City Records and released her 2004 debut, “The Milk-Eyed Mender.” A beautifully stark album, Newsom shines with her intertwining harp melodies and unique singing style.
Newsom shifted her approach for her sophomore effort “Ys.” Released less than a month ago, “Ys” is an ambitious album replete with epic sprawling song cycles ranging from seven to 16 minutes and compositions thick with strings, accordions, mandolins and banjos.
Famed composer Van Dyke Parks (Brian Wilson's lyric partner on the legendary “Smile” album) lovingly wraps Newsom's warbling vocals and crisply plucked harp melodies with lush orchestration. Producer Steve Albini (Pixies, Nirvana, Fugazi) recorded Newsom's vocal and harp parts, while Jim O'Rourke (Wilco) mixed the album. Albini is a fierce proponent of recording analog instead of digitally, thus “Ys” was recorded completely in analog with mixing taking place at the legendary Abbey Road Studios in London.
“Ys” is a big album, revealing new complexities with each new listen. Surrounded by such star-studded support, Newsom could have been crushed under the weight of big orchestral compositions and big egos. Instead, she steps up the challenge, revealing artistry that surpasses psych-folk or any other name you could put on it.
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
December 14, 2006
In pop music, three chords and a catchy chorus just doesn't cut it anymore. If you hadn't been paying attention to folk music these days, a group of musicians is breathing new life into the tired genre with fantastic imagery and an outsider mentality.
Though coming at folk music from different angles, artists such as Devendra Banhart, Animal Collective, Vetiver, DeVotchKa and Faun Fables have been grouped together under an umbrella name: psych-folk.
As opposed to the politically driven music emerging from living rooms during the New York folk scene of the 1960s, the artists of the psych-folk movement are dreamers using fanciful allegory and rich layered compositions to reinvent folk. Also known as New Weird America, these artists provide whimsical escapism instead of cutting political satire.
Enter psych-folk singer Joanna Newsom, with her huge orchestral harp in tow.
Born into a family of musicians, the 26-year-old singer-songwriter grew up in the former gold-rush town of Nevada City in Northern California. She's been playing the harp for almost 20 years, bringing an Appalachian down-home feel to her indie folk sound.
“First of all, the harp has this bad reputation,” said Newsom in a 2003 interview with freewiliamsburg.com. “It's been used for easy schmaltzy crap. The harp is capable of much more expressiveness. It doesn't have to be this sloppy, over-the-top, dramatic instrument. It can be really delicate and yet abrasive at the right time. I am producing sounds that people are not used to hearing from the harp.”
After gaining a national audience touring with singer Will Oldham (aka Bonny “Prince” Billy), Newsom signed to Drag City Records and released her 2004 debut, “The Milk-Eyed Mender.” A beautifully stark album, Newsom shines with her intertwining harp melodies and unique singing style.
Newsom shifted her approach for her sophomore effort “Ys.” Released less than a month ago, “Ys” is an ambitious album replete with epic sprawling song cycles ranging from seven to 16 minutes and compositions thick with strings, accordions, mandolins and banjos.
Famed composer Van Dyke Parks (Brian Wilson's lyric partner on the legendary “Smile” album) lovingly wraps Newsom's warbling vocals and crisply plucked harp melodies with lush orchestration. Producer Steve Albini (Pixies, Nirvana, Fugazi) recorded Newsom's vocal and harp parts, while Jim O'Rourke (Wilco) mixed the album. Albini is a fierce proponent of recording analog instead of digitally, thus “Ys” was recorded completely in analog with mixing taking place at the legendary Abbey Road Studios in London.
“Ys” is a big album, revealing new complexities with each new listen. Surrounded by such star-studded support, Newsom could have been crushed under the weight of big orchestral compositions and big egos. Instead, she steps up the challenge, revealing artistry that surpasses psych-folk or any other name you could put on it.
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Panic! At The Disco in N&D
Obscurity to ubiquity: Panic! rides fast track
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
December 7, 2006
Gothic bearded babes dancing between church pews, dancing men on stilts and a vaudeville master of ceremonies directing the festivities as a jaded groom discovers his newlywed bride is cheating on him.
That's a lot of visual eye candy for a three-minute music video, courtesy of the Los Angeles freak show troupe Lucent Dossier Vaudeville Cirque. And it's the winning formula that propelled Panic! at the Disco's “I Write Sins Not Tragedies” to the top of the charts and won Video of the Year at this year's MTV Video Music Awards.
“We wanted to do something different because it was going to be our first video,” said Panic! at the Disco guitarist Ryan Ross about the breakout video. “We didn't want to do the click back and forth between a band playing in a warehouse to some storyline that doesn't even make any sense because there are only three minutes in a song. For every video we've done, we wanted to make sure it did something for the song, and visually it wasn't something you're seeing on TV right now.”
Raised under the faux sparkle of neon lights in Las Vegas, the four guys in Panic! at the Disco decided they wanted to make music their career. While still in high school, singer Brendon Urie, bassist Jon Walker, drummer Spencer Smith and Ross began to earn a name for themselves through MySpace and the Internet out of necessity more than anything else.
“We had to use the Internet because there really wasn't much going on in Vegas,” said Ross of his hometown music scene. “I guess there are a handful of bands, but it doesn't really feel like much of a community. We'd practice and write songs. Instead of playing a show, we'd record those songs and put them on the Internet.”
Through high-speed Internet connections and word of mouth, Panic! at the Disco's brand of accessible emo-pop began to spread worldwide: “We only had two songs, and we had them on our MySpace page. We were just this little band from Vegas that nobody knew about in Vegas. People all around the world were telling their friends.”
Urie's deft singing and Ross' clever lyrics led Fall Out Boy bassist Pete Wentz to sign the band to his imprint label Decaydance. After only a few years as a Vegas garage band, Panic! at the Disco seemed primed for a breakout with its debut album.
Between attending high school and holding down jobs, Ross and company wrote the songs that would become the backbone of “A Fever You Can't Sweat Out” over a four-month period before journeying to the East Coast to record.
“We recorded in Maryland: five weeks straight, no days off, 12-hour days,” Ross said. “We slept in a one-bedroom apartment on bunk beds and did the whole Top Ramen dinner for a month and a half. It was a lot of work and stress and arguing and no sleep. It was tough, but afterward we were happy that we put the extra time into it, and all the little things that we enjoy about it were worth it to us.”
With the album's platinum sales, Ross joked, “We might get a two-bedroom apartment when we record this album.”
Ross' songwriting skills set Panic! at the Disco apart from the glut of young bands singing emotive pop-rock. Ross and the other members are heavily influenced by writer Chuck Palahniuk (“Fight Club”). Tunes like “Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off” and “The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide Is Press Coverage” give the album substance and emotional weight. And it's the band's songwriting that will give the group a name in the rock business down the road.
Said Ross, on modern songwriting: “I don't really like a lot of bands' lyrics these days. Adam Duritz is one of my favorite songwriters because of the way he tells stories. Tom Waits, same thing. I like people who paint a picture for you. They include a lot of small details that allow you to really see something.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
December 7, 2006
Gothic bearded babes dancing between church pews, dancing men on stilts and a vaudeville master of ceremonies directing the festivities as a jaded groom discovers his newlywed bride is cheating on him.
That's a lot of visual eye candy for a three-minute music video, courtesy of the Los Angeles freak show troupe Lucent Dossier Vaudeville Cirque. And it's the winning formula that propelled Panic! at the Disco's “I Write Sins Not Tragedies” to the top of the charts and won Video of the Year at this year's MTV Video Music Awards.
“We wanted to do something different because it was going to be our first video,” said Panic! at the Disco guitarist Ryan Ross about the breakout video. “We didn't want to do the click back and forth between a band playing in a warehouse to some storyline that doesn't even make any sense because there are only three minutes in a song. For every video we've done, we wanted to make sure it did something for the song, and visually it wasn't something you're seeing on TV right now.”
Raised under the faux sparkle of neon lights in Las Vegas, the four guys in Panic! at the Disco decided they wanted to make music their career. While still in high school, singer Brendon Urie, bassist Jon Walker, drummer Spencer Smith and Ross began to earn a name for themselves through MySpace and the Internet out of necessity more than anything else.
“We had to use the Internet because there really wasn't much going on in Vegas,” said Ross of his hometown music scene. “I guess there are a handful of bands, but it doesn't really feel like much of a community. We'd practice and write songs. Instead of playing a show, we'd record those songs and put them on the Internet.”
Through high-speed Internet connections and word of mouth, Panic! at the Disco's brand of accessible emo-pop began to spread worldwide: “We only had two songs, and we had them on our MySpace page. We were just this little band from Vegas that nobody knew about in Vegas. People all around the world were telling their friends.”
Urie's deft singing and Ross' clever lyrics led Fall Out Boy bassist Pete Wentz to sign the band to his imprint label Decaydance. After only a few years as a Vegas garage band, Panic! at the Disco seemed primed for a breakout with its debut album.
Between attending high school and holding down jobs, Ross and company wrote the songs that would become the backbone of “A Fever You Can't Sweat Out” over a four-month period before journeying to the East Coast to record.
“We recorded in Maryland: five weeks straight, no days off, 12-hour days,” Ross said. “We slept in a one-bedroom apartment on bunk beds and did the whole Top Ramen dinner for a month and a half. It was a lot of work and stress and arguing and no sleep. It was tough, but afterward we were happy that we put the extra time into it, and all the little things that we enjoy about it were worth it to us.”
With the album's platinum sales, Ross joked, “We might get a two-bedroom apartment when we record this album.”
Ross' songwriting skills set Panic! at the Disco apart from the glut of young bands singing emotive pop-rock. Ross and the other members are heavily influenced by writer Chuck Palahniuk (“Fight Club”). Tunes like “Lying Is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off” and “The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide Is Press Coverage” give the album substance and emotional weight. And it's the band's songwriting that will give the group a name in the rock business down the road.
Said Ross, on modern songwriting: “I don't really like a lot of bands' lyrics these days. Adam Duritz is one of my favorite songwriters because of the way he tells stories. Tom Waits, same thing. I like people who paint a picture for you. They include a lot of small details that allow you to really see something.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Emo on steroids
My Chemical Romance expands the repertoire, and blows past the critics
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
December 7, 2006
From the opening beeps of a heart monitor on “The Black Parade's” opening track “The End,” My Chemical Romance's third studio album marks a creative pinnacle for the five guys from Jersey.
With a tip of the cap to epic albums like Pink Floyd's “The Wall” and Queen's most orchestral masterpieces, MCR tackles the rock opera with its emotive rock. Call it an “emopera.”
“This is without a doubt that record for this band,” said lead singer Gerard Way via phone after a sound check during a tour stop in North Carolina. “It's that one record by a dark-horse band that created a knee-jerk reaction, and having it causes a big cultural thing among a younger audience. There has been some skepticism toward the band largely on a critical level. That's common when you have a group that's speaking to the youth.”
Emerging from the area of New Jersey just outside of New York City (traditionally the territory of Bruce Spingsteen, Bon Jovi and Southside Johnny), Way – along with bassist and brother Mikey Way, drummer Bob Bryar and guitarists Frank Iero and Ray Toro – faced an uphill battle when they started in 2001.
“We never wanted to be trapped in a local band, local hero type of thing,” recalled Way on the band's early years. “There were some very big fish in a very small pond in Jersey. We just got in a van and left. We had ambitions that were much larger than conquering a county. We did what's really risky and really hard to do. We got in a van with no money, a van that doesn't really even work, and just start driving places you've never been to play, sometimes for eight kids.”
Traveling the country led them to release 2002's “I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love,” which subsequently led them to sign with Reprise (a division of Warner Music Group). “Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge” followed in 2004, a solid set of emo tunes mixing pop balladry and biting guitar riffage. The album went platinum and connected with mostly younger audiences.
By adding flourishes of classic rock orchestration, “The Black Parade,” critically praised and commercially a hot seller, seems to be changing all of that now: “This is the record that pushes us through (to the public). I meet people now who are in their 40s and 50s who are fans. Not because of their kids, but because they heard a song on the radio and they remember what it was like listening to Queen.”
Most rock operas follow a storyline. But My Chemical Romance chose to follow a theme, a theme that could be misconstrued, according to Way.
“I think the theme for me is 'life,' ” he said. “I know it seems like a dark record. That's what people try to dwell on. To me, the record is about triumph, victory and the strong desire to live. The record is really about survival and truth.”
While lyrically strong, the album's orchestral elements stand out as an achievement among emo-pop bands.
“Even though there are sometimes hundreds of layers happening, not one of those layers is arbitrary,” said Way of the record's thick production. “None of those layers is just us trying to be cool or trying to confuse people. It's all very thought out. It's the result of leaving no stone unturned.”
Standout tracks like the demented Gypsy music of “Mama” (Mama we're all going to hell) and the ballad “Cancer” really show a band finding new expression in the tired confines of emo and modern rock.
“That's basically the way we approached this record: Nothing was taboo,” said Way. “Nothing was uncool. There was nothing to be ashamed of. It was about pulling your skin off and getting really naked with it.
“It doesn't necessarily mean it was going to be stripped-down raw. Getting naked with this material meant exposing yourself in a very large way.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
December 7, 2006
From the opening beeps of a heart monitor on “The Black Parade's” opening track “The End,” My Chemical Romance's third studio album marks a creative pinnacle for the five guys from Jersey.
With a tip of the cap to epic albums like Pink Floyd's “The Wall” and Queen's most orchestral masterpieces, MCR tackles the rock opera with its emotive rock. Call it an “emopera.”
“This is without a doubt that record for this band,” said lead singer Gerard Way via phone after a sound check during a tour stop in North Carolina. “It's that one record by a dark-horse band that created a knee-jerk reaction, and having it causes a big cultural thing among a younger audience. There has been some skepticism toward the band largely on a critical level. That's common when you have a group that's speaking to the youth.”
Emerging from the area of New Jersey just outside of New York City (traditionally the territory of Bruce Spingsteen, Bon Jovi and Southside Johnny), Way – along with bassist and brother Mikey Way, drummer Bob Bryar and guitarists Frank Iero and Ray Toro – faced an uphill battle when they started in 2001.
“We never wanted to be trapped in a local band, local hero type of thing,” recalled Way on the band's early years. “There were some very big fish in a very small pond in Jersey. We just got in a van and left. We had ambitions that were much larger than conquering a county. We did what's really risky and really hard to do. We got in a van with no money, a van that doesn't really even work, and just start driving places you've never been to play, sometimes for eight kids.”
Traveling the country led them to release 2002's “I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love,” which subsequently led them to sign with Reprise (a division of Warner Music Group). “Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge” followed in 2004, a solid set of emo tunes mixing pop balladry and biting guitar riffage. The album went platinum and connected with mostly younger audiences.
By adding flourishes of classic rock orchestration, “The Black Parade,” critically praised and commercially a hot seller, seems to be changing all of that now: “This is the record that pushes us through (to the public). I meet people now who are in their 40s and 50s who are fans. Not because of their kids, but because they heard a song on the radio and they remember what it was like listening to Queen.”
Most rock operas follow a storyline. But My Chemical Romance chose to follow a theme, a theme that could be misconstrued, according to Way.
“I think the theme for me is 'life,' ” he said. “I know it seems like a dark record. That's what people try to dwell on. To me, the record is about triumph, victory and the strong desire to live. The record is really about survival and truth.”
While lyrically strong, the album's orchestral elements stand out as an achievement among emo-pop bands.
“Even though there are sometimes hundreds of layers happening, not one of those layers is arbitrary,” said Way of the record's thick production. “None of those layers is just us trying to be cool or trying to confuse people. It's all very thought out. It's the result of leaving no stone unturned.”
Standout tracks like the demented Gypsy music of “Mama” (Mama we're all going to hell) and the ballad “Cancer” really show a band finding new expression in the tired confines of emo and modern rock.
“That's basically the way we approached this record: Nothing was taboo,” said Way. “Nothing was uncool. There was nothing to be ashamed of. It was about pulling your skin off and getting really naked with it.
“It doesn't necessarily mean it was going to be stripped-down raw. Getting naked with this material meant exposing yourself in a very large way.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
The Life of Mr. Lif
From sheltered life to hip-hop star, Mr. Lif's life
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 30, 2006
Back in the early 1990s in a dark dorm room on the campus of Colgate University in upstate New York, a man named Jeffrey Haynes freestyled with friends and got his hip-hop chops the old fashioned way. He earned them.
Now, Haynes' conscious rhymes can be found pumping from speakers in dark dorm rooms across the country under the moniker Mr. Lif. Politically aware and rife with intelligent vocabulary, Mr. Lif is the product of his environment. The golden age of conscious hip-hop in the early to mid-1990s gave Haynes inspiration to step up his game and devote his life to music.
“I did something back then that a lot of lyricists don't do these days: I took it all very seriously,” said Haynes from his home in Philadelphia. “Nowadays, kids buy some equipment and claim to be rappers. I started rhyming back in '93. You couldn't (mess) around back then. You're up against A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul and Wu-Tang Clan. There is no margin for error.”
For Lif, the era exemplified the best that hip-hop had to offer: “I knew that voice was important. I knew that content was important. And I knew that cadence was very important as well and always having dope production.”
Reaching back before his collegiate days, Haynes learned to be a man from his parents growing up in the Boston suburb of Brighton.
“My parents are Barbadian-Americans,” recalled Haynes. “They came to America with a whole different view on black people in this country and on planet Earth. There was a 99 percent literacy rate when they moved over here. They were used to seeing black doctors and lawyers in abundance. They came over here, and every night on the news there are groups of black people getting arrested or killing each other. That resonated strongly with them and made them tighten up the reins on me to make sure I was not exposed to that type of negativity.”
After fleeing the sheltered life at Colgate, Lif retreated back to Boston to make his name in the hip-hop game. He first gained a foothold through his self-produced tracks that found their way on to Boston's vibrant college radio scene.
The turning point for Mr. Lif came when he met El-P from the NYC-based crew Company Flow. El-P offered a contract to record for his influential alternative hip-hop label, Definitive Jux, aka Def Jux. His relationship with El-P gave Mr. Lif instant nationwide cred.
“El-P is one of the godfathers of the independent scene,” said Haynes, who used El-P as a producer on 2002's “I Phantom” and 2005's “Mo' Mega.” “He was prominent at a time when a lot of kids were realizing that we didn't have to sleep on the steps of Motown or Loud Records to put out a song. Everyone was realizing that if you had a couple thousand dollars, you could press up a single and service it to some DJs.”
Always politically driven in his lyrics, Mr. Lif joins another conscious hip-hop crew, The Coup, on the current set of 20 dates across the country. The tour stops at House of Blues downtown tomorrow.
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 30, 2006
Back in the early 1990s in a dark dorm room on the campus of Colgate University in upstate New York, a man named Jeffrey Haynes freestyled with friends and got his hip-hop chops the old fashioned way. He earned them.
Now, Haynes' conscious rhymes can be found pumping from speakers in dark dorm rooms across the country under the moniker Mr. Lif. Politically aware and rife with intelligent vocabulary, Mr. Lif is the product of his environment. The golden age of conscious hip-hop in the early to mid-1990s gave Haynes inspiration to step up his game and devote his life to music.
“I did something back then that a lot of lyricists don't do these days: I took it all very seriously,” said Haynes from his home in Philadelphia. “Nowadays, kids buy some equipment and claim to be rappers. I started rhyming back in '93. You couldn't (mess) around back then. You're up against A Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul and Wu-Tang Clan. There is no margin for error.”
For Lif, the era exemplified the best that hip-hop had to offer: “I knew that voice was important. I knew that content was important. And I knew that cadence was very important as well and always having dope production.”
Reaching back before his collegiate days, Haynes learned to be a man from his parents growing up in the Boston suburb of Brighton.
“My parents are Barbadian-Americans,” recalled Haynes. “They came to America with a whole different view on black people in this country and on planet Earth. There was a 99 percent literacy rate when they moved over here. They were used to seeing black doctors and lawyers in abundance. They came over here, and every night on the news there are groups of black people getting arrested or killing each other. That resonated strongly with them and made them tighten up the reins on me to make sure I was not exposed to that type of negativity.”
After fleeing the sheltered life at Colgate, Lif retreated back to Boston to make his name in the hip-hop game. He first gained a foothold through his self-produced tracks that found their way on to Boston's vibrant college radio scene.
The turning point for Mr. Lif came when he met El-P from the NYC-based crew Company Flow. El-P offered a contract to record for his influential alternative hip-hop label, Definitive Jux, aka Def Jux. His relationship with El-P gave Mr. Lif instant nationwide cred.
“El-P is one of the godfathers of the independent scene,” said Haynes, who used El-P as a producer on 2002's “I Phantom” and 2005's “Mo' Mega.” “He was prominent at a time when a lot of kids were realizing that we didn't have to sleep on the steps of Motown or Loud Records to put out a song. Everyone was realizing that if you had a couple thousand dollars, you could press up a single and service it to some DJs.”
Always politically driven in his lyrics, Mr. Lif joins another conscious hip-hop crew, The Coup, on the current set of 20 dates across the country. The tour stops at House of Blues downtown tomorrow.
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Soul Coughing frontman forges on
Doughty finds himself in a 'good situation'
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 30, 2006
When listening to singer-songwriter Mike Doughty in his music and his manner of speech, you get the sense he likes words. His ability to run rampant through the syllabic rhythms of the English language evokes a grin from even the most starchy collared professorial wordsmiths.
Doughty seems to enjoy playfully plying his lingual talents more than anyone else within ear's reach. But mention two words and the smile drains from his voice: “Soul Coughing.”
With his eight-plus years fronting tech-inflected, alt-pop band Soul Coughing in the 1990s, Doughty added his beat poetry, spoken word and talk/sing to the band's sound. The NYC-base quartet gained a serious foothold on college radio with singles like “Circles” and “Super Bon Bon” verging on mainstream success. But it's a period in Doughty's life he only grudgingly speaks about.
“I'm not crazy talking about Soul Coughing,” said the 36-year-old singer from a tour bus headed toward Denver recently. “I left Soul Coughing so I could do what I'm doing now. I really dig the band I have now. I've been digging the records I've been making. It's a good situation.”
During his Soul Coughing stint, he helped redefine a lead singer's role in a band. If anything, Doughty played the role of rhythm singer. The guitar strapped around his neck provided a rhythmic counterpoint to his vocal spiels, while Mark De Gli Antoni's swirling samples, Yuval Gabay's beats and Sebastian Steinberg's bass took the musical forefront. Doughty's certainly no Pavarotti, but his lyrics served as another instrument.
The rail-thin singer made Soul Coughing one of the most original bands in the 1990s through style and sheer intelligence. His words transformed Soul Coughing's slam-boom-bombastic sound into a journey, with each song a trek into the mind of a lyrical genius. And the Cosmo-sipping hipsters of the NYC scene loved it.
After the traveling Soul Coughing carnival came to a halt in 1998, Doughty (pronounced dough-tee) hit the road solo. Without the sonic chaos of Soul Coughing, Doughty's performances lead to his strength: weaving polyrhythmic, staccato word associations into a meaningful whole.
“When I split up the band, I hit the road in the most lo-fi, grass-roots way I could,” said Doughty, currently on a big-time arena tour with the Barenaked Ladies. “I got in a rental car. I threw a guitar in the trunk. And I did the smallest shows possible.”
After starting from scratch and releasing a few low-profile recordings sold out of the back of his rental, Doughty returned to the world of high-profile album releases in 2005. Doughty stripped away the bells and whistles of Soul Coughing songs to create the 12 tracks on “Haughty Melodic.”
With the help of Dave Matthews and his label, ATO, the record reached new audiences with catchy songs like “Looking at the World From the Bottom of a Well” and “Tremendous Brunettes” (the latter features guest vocals by Matthews). The album sets him up nicely for mainstream success greater than his taste with Soul Coughing.
“The only way I could do it was to start over,” said Doughty. “To this day, I do a Soul Coughing song in the show, but I don't really play the hits. If you really want to move on you have to fight. And I'm fighting.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 30, 2006
When listening to singer-songwriter Mike Doughty in his music and his manner of speech, you get the sense he likes words. His ability to run rampant through the syllabic rhythms of the English language evokes a grin from even the most starchy collared professorial wordsmiths.
Doughty seems to enjoy playfully plying his lingual talents more than anyone else within ear's reach. But mention two words and the smile drains from his voice: “Soul Coughing.”
With his eight-plus years fronting tech-inflected, alt-pop band Soul Coughing in the 1990s, Doughty added his beat poetry, spoken word and talk/sing to the band's sound. The NYC-base quartet gained a serious foothold on college radio with singles like “Circles” and “Super Bon Bon” verging on mainstream success. But it's a period in Doughty's life he only grudgingly speaks about.
“I'm not crazy talking about Soul Coughing,” said the 36-year-old singer from a tour bus headed toward Denver recently. “I left Soul Coughing so I could do what I'm doing now. I really dig the band I have now. I've been digging the records I've been making. It's a good situation.”
During his Soul Coughing stint, he helped redefine a lead singer's role in a band. If anything, Doughty played the role of rhythm singer. The guitar strapped around his neck provided a rhythmic counterpoint to his vocal spiels, while Mark De Gli Antoni's swirling samples, Yuval Gabay's beats and Sebastian Steinberg's bass took the musical forefront. Doughty's certainly no Pavarotti, but his lyrics served as another instrument.
The rail-thin singer made Soul Coughing one of the most original bands in the 1990s through style and sheer intelligence. His words transformed Soul Coughing's slam-boom-bombastic sound into a journey, with each song a trek into the mind of a lyrical genius. And the Cosmo-sipping hipsters of the NYC scene loved it.
After the traveling Soul Coughing carnival came to a halt in 1998, Doughty (pronounced dough-tee) hit the road solo. Without the sonic chaos of Soul Coughing, Doughty's performances lead to his strength: weaving polyrhythmic, staccato word associations into a meaningful whole.
“When I split up the band, I hit the road in the most lo-fi, grass-roots way I could,” said Doughty, currently on a big-time arena tour with the Barenaked Ladies. “I got in a rental car. I threw a guitar in the trunk. And I did the smallest shows possible.”
After starting from scratch and releasing a few low-profile recordings sold out of the back of his rental, Doughty returned to the world of high-profile album releases in 2005. Doughty stripped away the bells and whistles of Soul Coughing songs to create the 12 tracks on “Haughty Melodic.”
With the help of Dave Matthews and his label, ATO, the record reached new audiences with catchy songs like “Looking at the World From the Bottom of a Well” and “Tremendous Brunettes” (the latter features guest vocals by Matthews). The album sets him up nicely for mainstream success greater than his taste with Soul Coughing.
“The only way I could do it was to start over,” said Doughty. “To this day, I do a Soul Coughing song in the show, but I don't really play the hits. If you really want to move on you have to fight. And I'm fighting.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Rejects are OK
Just another band from Oklahoma
All-American Rejects cash in a bit after paying some dues
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 30, 2006
The words “music” and “Oklahoma” don't find their way into one's vocabulary in the same sentence too often. Maybe if you've had musicals drilled into you at a young age, a few refrains from Rodgers and Hammerstein's score float through your head. Or, for the real music geeks, you might recall the band portrayed in Cameron Crowe's “Almost Famous” flick donned the name Stillwater, a town of 40,000 in central Oklahoma.
You might not know that The All-American Rejects, a band sporting a couple of singles in the Billboard Top 20 in the past year, hails from Oklahoma. To be more exact, its members grew out of the town of, that's right, Stillwater.
Nick Wheeler, the band's guitarist, recalls his roots trying to make a living as a working musician in the Midwest.
“Being from Oklahoma, you just have to get lucky,” said Wheeler. “It's not about who you know and it's not about being a part of the scene. There ain't nobody in Oklahoma that can do anything for you. There's no music scene either. You've pretty much got nothing going for you.”
But the trial by fire gave The All-American Rejects an appreciation for the band's current situation.
“We definitely learned a lot being a band at the bottom of the heap and paying dues,” said Wheeler, speaking from a tour stop in Rochester, N.Y. “We've played every hole you can name in the Southwest. There is a still a long way to go for us, but each thing you do is another baby step to the next bigger goal. Hopefully, we can keep it up.”
Wheeler, along with singer-bassist Tyson Ritter, guitarist Mike Kennerty and drummer Chris Gaylor, are doing more than just keeping up.
Driven by the band's brand of emo pop, both 2002's self-titled disc and 2005's “Move Along” have achieved platinum status in sales. The All-American Rejects' catchy choruses and scruffy good looks make this Oklahoma band a surefire moneymaker for its label, Interscope.
But it almost didn't happen. After the relative success of the debut, Wheeler and company fumbled with a collection of songs suitable for the record company's liking. After a few months in Florida to write songs, the band readied to enter the studio to record the sophomore effort. But “the guys who pay the bills” – read, the record company – sent The All-American Rejects back to the drawing board.
Wheeler picks up the story: “Nine months later, we ended up in Atlanta. We were going to work with a producer in Atlanta, but he ended up not doing the record. So, we just hung out there by ourselves for two months or so. That's where (the song and hit single) 'Move Along' came around, written in a little rehearsal space in Atlanta. Everyday, we'd go up there and play for 14 hours.”
After hearing the results from the hard work, the quartet got the go-ahead to start recording the album that became “Move Along.” Working with producer Howard Benson, the disc yielded the singles “Move Along” (topping out at No. 15 on the Billboard charts) and “It Ends Tonight” (currently on the charts at No. 11).
For Wheeler, the recording was painless compared to the long months in Atlanta: “All the trials and tribulations of writing the record happened before we even got into the studio. The studio was the easy part because we'd done our homework.”
The All-American Rejects currently headline the “Tournado” tour with Motion City Soundtrack, The Starting Line, The Format, Gym Class Heroes, and Boys Like Girls, which stops at the ipayOne Center tomorrow. After the tough times leading up to “Move Along,” Wheeler knows his band will be smarter when approaching the next record, leaving a little time to rest before jumping into another song cycle.
“Being on the road, it's a roller coaster,” said Wheeler. “You have to get off the ride and come back to earth for a minute before you can get your head straight and be creative and do it for the right reasons. Right now, we're in a groove and it's 'Move Along.' We're playing these songs every night and we're still loving them.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
All-American Rejects cash in a bit after paying some dues
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 30, 2006
The words “music” and “Oklahoma” don't find their way into one's vocabulary in the same sentence too often. Maybe if you've had musicals drilled into you at a young age, a few refrains from Rodgers and Hammerstein's score float through your head. Or, for the real music geeks, you might recall the band portrayed in Cameron Crowe's “Almost Famous” flick donned the name Stillwater, a town of 40,000 in central Oklahoma.
You might not know that The All-American Rejects, a band sporting a couple of singles in the Billboard Top 20 in the past year, hails from Oklahoma. To be more exact, its members grew out of the town of, that's right, Stillwater.
Nick Wheeler, the band's guitarist, recalls his roots trying to make a living as a working musician in the Midwest.
“Being from Oklahoma, you just have to get lucky,” said Wheeler. “It's not about who you know and it's not about being a part of the scene. There ain't nobody in Oklahoma that can do anything for you. There's no music scene either. You've pretty much got nothing going for you.”
But the trial by fire gave The All-American Rejects an appreciation for the band's current situation.
“We definitely learned a lot being a band at the bottom of the heap and paying dues,” said Wheeler, speaking from a tour stop in Rochester, N.Y. “We've played every hole you can name in the Southwest. There is a still a long way to go for us, but each thing you do is another baby step to the next bigger goal. Hopefully, we can keep it up.”
Wheeler, along with singer-bassist Tyson Ritter, guitarist Mike Kennerty and drummer Chris Gaylor, are doing more than just keeping up.
Driven by the band's brand of emo pop, both 2002's self-titled disc and 2005's “Move Along” have achieved platinum status in sales. The All-American Rejects' catchy choruses and scruffy good looks make this Oklahoma band a surefire moneymaker for its label, Interscope.
But it almost didn't happen. After the relative success of the debut, Wheeler and company fumbled with a collection of songs suitable for the record company's liking. After a few months in Florida to write songs, the band readied to enter the studio to record the sophomore effort. But “the guys who pay the bills” – read, the record company – sent The All-American Rejects back to the drawing board.
Wheeler picks up the story: “Nine months later, we ended up in Atlanta. We were going to work with a producer in Atlanta, but he ended up not doing the record. So, we just hung out there by ourselves for two months or so. That's where (the song and hit single) 'Move Along' came around, written in a little rehearsal space in Atlanta. Everyday, we'd go up there and play for 14 hours.”
After hearing the results from the hard work, the quartet got the go-ahead to start recording the album that became “Move Along.” Working with producer Howard Benson, the disc yielded the singles “Move Along” (topping out at No. 15 on the Billboard charts) and “It Ends Tonight” (currently on the charts at No. 11).
For Wheeler, the recording was painless compared to the long months in Atlanta: “All the trials and tribulations of writing the record happened before we even got into the studio. The studio was the easy part because we'd done our homework.”
The All-American Rejects currently headline the “Tournado” tour with Motion City Soundtrack, The Starting Line, The Format, Gym Class Heroes, and Boys Like Girls, which stops at the ipayOne Center tomorrow. After the tough times leading up to “Move Along,” Wheeler knows his band will be smarter when approaching the next record, leaving a little time to rest before jumping into another song cycle.
“Being on the road, it's a roller coaster,” said Wheeler. “You have to get off the ride and come back to earth for a minute before you can get your head straight and be creative and do it for the right reasons. Right now, we're in a groove and it's 'Move Along.' We're playing these songs every night and we're still loving them.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Mates of State: Two rode in
Mates of State meshes perfectly, on stage and at home
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 23, 2006
'The first time we ever played together, we were so nervous,” recalled Jason Hammel, one of half of the husband-wife duo Mates of State. “We thought that if it didn't work out musically, maybe there was something wrong with the relationship. But luckily it worked out.”
For Kori Gardner (organ, vocals) and Hammel (drums, vocals), the musical relationship blossomed into a marriage and more recently a child. After beginning their musical and emotional relationship in Lawrence, Kan., they moved to San Francisco and started playing around town as Mates of State.
Despite the lack of traditional instrumentation like bass and guitar, the two made infectious pop with layered vocals. Gardner and Hammel weren't sure if it would work at first.
“Before we met, we were both in separate bands, and were songwriters and singers,” said Hammel, speaking from his current home in East Haven, Conn. “When we came together, it was this lucky occurrence; like striking gold. We realized we could actually do this together.”
With its stripped-down duo mentality and the vocal interplay between Gardner and Hammel, the band has since earned a following among indie scenesters. From 2000-2003, the pair released three albums of cute pop (they were married in 2001). It's not the kind of pop that leaves a saccharine aftertaste, filled with fake enthusiasm or tongue-in-cheek sarcasm. Mates of State's music rings true with a sunshine outlook and sincerity.
In 2004, Gardner and Hammel moved to Connecticut to buy a house, explore New York City and be closer to Gardner's family: “We actually just wanted to live close to New York City for a while. We're about an hour from there. And Cory had some family here, halfway between us and New York City. We also wanted to buy a place, which we couldn't do in San Francisco.”
The year also gave the husband and wife a baby girl, who they named Magnolia, which transformed their lives on the road and at home. When on tour, they now travel with a nanny (a friend from San Francisco) and schedule drives between shows around Magnolia's naps.
Mates of State has always worked collaboratively, hashing out songs while both musicians were in the same room. With the move to the East Coast and the purchase of a home, the band has a home recording studio. But with a baby in the house, working together is tougher these days.
“For this most recent record, we had a child and also had recording capabilities at home,” said Hammel. “About half the parts we'd work on separately. One of us would put a part down on the computer, and say, 'Look, I'm stuck. You run with this.' We'd just keep passing it back and forth until we had a song that we liked.”
“Bring It Back” (released last March), Mates of State's fourth album, is filled with glorious harmonies and symphonic pop. After laying down the basic tracks at the couple's home studio, the two ventured into a conventional studio in New Haven, Conn.
“It was the first time we went into the studio and said we wanted a producer,” said Hammel on working with producer Bill Racine (Rogue Wave, Mark Gardener). “He's just a gold mine of ideas. He also had a lot of sonic ideas, about how to achieve certain amp sounds and drum sounds and keyboard sounds. He really pushed us to find which sound works for each song.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 23, 2006
'The first time we ever played together, we were so nervous,” recalled Jason Hammel, one of half of the husband-wife duo Mates of State. “We thought that if it didn't work out musically, maybe there was something wrong with the relationship. But luckily it worked out.”
For Kori Gardner (organ, vocals) and Hammel (drums, vocals), the musical relationship blossomed into a marriage and more recently a child. After beginning their musical and emotional relationship in Lawrence, Kan., they moved to San Francisco and started playing around town as Mates of State.
Despite the lack of traditional instrumentation like bass and guitar, the two made infectious pop with layered vocals. Gardner and Hammel weren't sure if it would work at first.
“Before we met, we were both in separate bands, and were songwriters and singers,” said Hammel, speaking from his current home in East Haven, Conn. “When we came together, it was this lucky occurrence; like striking gold. We realized we could actually do this together.”
With its stripped-down duo mentality and the vocal interplay between Gardner and Hammel, the band has since earned a following among indie scenesters. From 2000-2003, the pair released three albums of cute pop (they were married in 2001). It's not the kind of pop that leaves a saccharine aftertaste, filled with fake enthusiasm or tongue-in-cheek sarcasm. Mates of State's music rings true with a sunshine outlook and sincerity.
In 2004, Gardner and Hammel moved to Connecticut to buy a house, explore New York City and be closer to Gardner's family: “We actually just wanted to live close to New York City for a while. We're about an hour from there. And Cory had some family here, halfway between us and New York City. We also wanted to buy a place, which we couldn't do in San Francisco.”
The year also gave the husband and wife a baby girl, who they named Magnolia, which transformed their lives on the road and at home. When on tour, they now travel with a nanny (a friend from San Francisco) and schedule drives between shows around Magnolia's naps.
Mates of State has always worked collaboratively, hashing out songs while both musicians were in the same room. With the move to the East Coast and the purchase of a home, the band has a home recording studio. But with a baby in the house, working together is tougher these days.
“For this most recent record, we had a child and also had recording capabilities at home,” said Hammel. “About half the parts we'd work on separately. One of us would put a part down on the computer, and say, 'Look, I'm stuck. You run with this.' We'd just keep passing it back and forth until we had a song that we liked.”
“Bring It Back” (released last March), Mates of State's fourth album, is filled with glorious harmonies and symphonic pop. After laying down the basic tracks at the couple's home studio, the two ventured into a conventional studio in New Haven, Conn.
“It was the first time we went into the studio and said we wanted a producer,” said Hammel on working with producer Bill Racine (Rogue Wave, Mark Gardener). “He's just a gold mine of ideas. He also had a lot of sonic ideas, about how to achieve certain amp sounds and drum sounds and keyboard sounds. He really pushed us to find which sound works for each song.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Pretty Girls Want Revenge
He said, she said: Dark dance tunes at HOB
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 16, 2006
When you get down to it, there are several ways to craft a rock song: from a female perspective (Tori Amos), from the male angle (AC/DC) or via pure androgyne (Ziggy Stardust).
Turn the dial to dark dance tunes and you'll often hear the intriguing pairing of Seattle's Pretty Girls Make Graves and Los Angeles duo She Wants Revenge, both appearing at downtown's House of Blues Tuesday. Individually, these groups bring that female-male yin-yang into sharp focus.
Led by the compelling female vocals of Andrea Zollo, PGMG represents the feminine half of the equation. Zollo sings on “Pyrte Pedetal, one of the standout songs from 2006 release “Elan Vital”: Your yarns were dipped in gold / I swallowed them whole / The real tragedy is that your act is just boring and old.
Rising out of the rainy Pacific Northwest, Pretty Girls Make Graves earned indie cred by mixing gritty guitar work with Zollo's beautiful singing on its 2002 debut “Good Health” (Lookout Records). The band moved to the Matador label and released its crowning achievement, “The New Romance,” in 2003, an album brimming with dark post-punk emotion.
After the underground success of “The New Romance,” original guitarist Nathan Thelen left the band to focus on his family and newborn child. So Zollo recruited her acupuncturist, Leona Marrs, to play keyboards and accordion. Marrs added more subtlety and texture to PGMG's 2006 offering “Elan Vital,” named after the teachings of Franch philosopher Henri Bergson.
Translated as “vital force,” the record reveals the band's softer side complete with bittersweet lyrics and complicated instrumental assemblage.
Turn the page to She Wants Revenge.
Sparked by Justin Warfield's deadpan Ian Curtis-inspired vocals and stripped-down moody keyboard riffs by Adam Bravin, the duo rips out its collective heart and lays it down on the tracks.
Delving into the dark corner of the male mind, Warfield croons on “These Things,” from the group's self-titled 2006 album: Let's make a fast plan, watch it burn to the ground / I try to whisper, so no one figures it out / I'm not a bad man, I'm just overwhelmed / It's cause of these things, it's cause of these things.
Filled with longing and despair bordering on violence (“Tear You Apart”), Warfield and company tap into the sinister side of the male psyche. The band has earned its detractors by using time-tested song formats harkening back to the 1980s scene in Manchester, England. But the universal truths of the lyrics and the infectious sing-along choruses transcend any mimicry that might be going on.
In the tandem's set during last year's Street Scene at Qualcomm Stadium, Warfield complained about performing in a steaming parking lot in broad daylight. They should find comfort in the dark confines of House of Blues alongside a suitable foil in Pretty Girls Make Graves.
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 16, 2006
When you get down to it, there are several ways to craft a rock song: from a female perspective (Tori Amos), from the male angle (AC/DC) or via pure androgyne (Ziggy Stardust).
Turn the dial to dark dance tunes and you'll often hear the intriguing pairing of Seattle's Pretty Girls Make Graves and Los Angeles duo She Wants Revenge, both appearing at downtown's House of Blues Tuesday. Individually, these groups bring that female-male yin-yang into sharp focus.
Led by the compelling female vocals of Andrea Zollo, PGMG represents the feminine half of the equation. Zollo sings on “Pyrte Pedetal, one of the standout songs from 2006 release “Elan Vital”: Your yarns were dipped in gold / I swallowed them whole / The real tragedy is that your act is just boring and old.
Rising out of the rainy Pacific Northwest, Pretty Girls Make Graves earned indie cred by mixing gritty guitar work with Zollo's beautiful singing on its 2002 debut “Good Health” (Lookout Records). The band moved to the Matador label and released its crowning achievement, “The New Romance,” in 2003, an album brimming with dark post-punk emotion.
After the underground success of “The New Romance,” original guitarist Nathan Thelen left the band to focus on his family and newborn child. So Zollo recruited her acupuncturist, Leona Marrs, to play keyboards and accordion. Marrs added more subtlety and texture to PGMG's 2006 offering “Elan Vital,” named after the teachings of Franch philosopher Henri Bergson.
Translated as “vital force,” the record reveals the band's softer side complete with bittersweet lyrics and complicated instrumental assemblage.
Turn the page to She Wants Revenge.
Sparked by Justin Warfield's deadpan Ian Curtis-inspired vocals and stripped-down moody keyboard riffs by Adam Bravin, the duo rips out its collective heart and lays it down on the tracks.
Delving into the dark corner of the male mind, Warfield croons on “These Things,” from the group's self-titled 2006 album: Let's make a fast plan, watch it burn to the ground / I try to whisper, so no one figures it out / I'm not a bad man, I'm just overwhelmed / It's cause of these things, it's cause of these things.
Filled with longing and despair bordering on violence (“Tear You Apart”), Warfield and company tap into the sinister side of the male psyche. The band has earned its detractors by using time-tested song formats harkening back to the 1980s scene in Manchester, England. But the universal truths of the lyrics and the infectious sing-along choruses transcend any mimicry that might be going on.
In the tandem's set during last year's Street Scene at Qualcomm Stadium, Warfield complained about performing in a steaming parking lot in broad daylight. They should find comfort in the dark confines of House of Blues alongside a suitable foil in Pretty Girls Make Graves.
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Make way for the S-O-V
Lady Sovereign goes with the flow, her own
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 16, 2006
Make way for the S-O-Veeee, chimes English MC Lady Sovereign on her hip-hop anthem “Random.” Feisty and self-deprecating, the 5-foot, 1-inch white girl from London pushes aside stereotypes and delivers genre bouncing hip-hop.
Despite the glut of rap artists strolling the streets of London and the UK, the home of hip-hop (America) remains a tough market to crack for English rappers. Following in the footsteps of English MCs The Streets and M.I.A., the 20-year-old Lady Sovereign manages to stand head above the rest with her clever word play and machine-gun delivery.
“We've got our own UK scene going on, but it don't exactly get put in the limelight,” said Sovereign during a tour stop on the East Coast. “It's insane, because there are so many people in the game.”
Officially the biggest midget in the game, rhymes Sovereign on “Love Me or Hate Me,” from her first full-length release, “Public Warning.” Combining elements of rap, dub and Pharrel-inspired soul, Lady Sovereign cracked the charts on MTV's “Total Request Live” with her unique flow and ability to have fun with her height and feminine curves (or lack of them).
Sovereign, born Louise Amanda Harman near Wembley Stadium in London, grew up in East London's music scene. The area is known for its own style of electronic dub and hip-hop called “grime,” marked by its lightning quick rhymes and a willingness to combine styles under the umbrella of electronica and hip-hop.
Here's another English slang term for you: “chav.” Sovereign explained: “A chav is kind of working class, not exactly well off. It's a bit of a disrespectful term to be honest.” Chavs often sport hoodies and Adidas tracksuits, don tacky jewelry and listen to hip-hop almost exclusively. Sovereign shrugs off her attachment to the chav culture by the media.
“I don't classify myself as a chav,” said Sovereign. “If anything, I'm a well-groomed chav. It's disrespect really. Whatever, people just hatin'.”
Lady Sovereign remained a relative unknown in the States before meeting up with Def Jam Records' Jay-Z, who signed her after she freestyled in his New York City office. She released “Public Warning” on Halloween this year, which is gaining a foothold on the American charts with “Love Me or Hate Me.”
So I can't dance and I really can't sing / I can only do one thing / And that's be Lady Sovereign, spits Sovereign on “Love Me or Hate Me.” Despite the English slang and the difference in backgrounds, this MC feels like she can connect with American audiences.
“We've grown up in a different environment,” Sovereign, who plays House of Blues Sunday. “We've grown up in a different land. But it's the same all over the world. If you're real and you're honest, you're going to know what you're talking about.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 16, 2006
Make way for the S-O-Veeee, chimes English MC Lady Sovereign on her hip-hop anthem “Random.” Feisty and self-deprecating, the 5-foot, 1-inch white girl from London pushes aside stereotypes and delivers genre bouncing hip-hop.
Despite the glut of rap artists strolling the streets of London and the UK, the home of hip-hop (America) remains a tough market to crack for English rappers. Following in the footsteps of English MCs The Streets and M.I.A., the 20-year-old Lady Sovereign manages to stand head above the rest with her clever word play and machine-gun delivery.
“We've got our own UK scene going on, but it don't exactly get put in the limelight,” said Sovereign during a tour stop on the East Coast. “It's insane, because there are so many people in the game.”
Officially the biggest midget in the game, rhymes Sovereign on “Love Me or Hate Me,” from her first full-length release, “Public Warning.” Combining elements of rap, dub and Pharrel-inspired soul, Lady Sovereign cracked the charts on MTV's “Total Request Live” with her unique flow and ability to have fun with her height and feminine curves (or lack of them).
Sovereign, born Louise Amanda Harman near Wembley Stadium in London, grew up in East London's music scene. The area is known for its own style of electronic dub and hip-hop called “grime,” marked by its lightning quick rhymes and a willingness to combine styles under the umbrella of electronica and hip-hop.
Here's another English slang term for you: “chav.” Sovereign explained: “A chav is kind of working class, not exactly well off. It's a bit of a disrespectful term to be honest.” Chavs often sport hoodies and Adidas tracksuits, don tacky jewelry and listen to hip-hop almost exclusively. Sovereign shrugs off her attachment to the chav culture by the media.
“I don't classify myself as a chav,” said Sovereign. “If anything, I'm a well-groomed chav. It's disrespect really. Whatever, people just hatin'.”
Lady Sovereign remained a relative unknown in the States before meeting up with Def Jam Records' Jay-Z, who signed her after she freestyled in his New York City office. She released “Public Warning” on Halloween this year, which is gaining a foothold on the American charts with “Love Me or Hate Me.”
So I can't dance and I really can't sing / I can only do one thing / And that's be Lady Sovereign, spits Sovereign on “Love Me or Hate Me.” Despite the English slang and the difference in backgrounds, this MC feels like she can connect with American audiences.
“We've grown up in a different environment,” Sovereign, who plays House of Blues Sunday. “We've grown up in a different land. But it's the same all over the world. If you're real and you're honest, you're going to know what you're talking about.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
The Fray in N&D
The Fray has kept its wits during rapid rise
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 9, 2006
In four short years, The Fray has elevated from a regional band kicking around Denver to gold records, TV soundtracks and videos plastered all over MTV and VH-1. The reason why? The foursome crafts infectious pop songs with hummable choruses.
It also doesn't hurt to make a few friends along the way.
“We just tried to make as many friends as we could in the Denver area, whether they were in another band or a booking agent or bar owners or local press or on local TV news,” said drummer Ben Wysocki, recalling the band's early days in the Mile High City. “It really can't hurt to know somebody.
“It got to the point where we had spread ourselves pretty thin around Denver, almost to the point of playing too much around town. People may have been getting a little sick of us. But you almost have to get it to that point for everything to spread beyond Denver.”
And it did spread beyond Denver. After earning the title best new band from Denver alternative weekly Westword (think the Reader, but better), The Fray earned a record contract with Epic and started on its journey to popular notoriety. But before record contracts, bands need to earn their chops if they want to weather the storms of popularity.
“Every band has to do their time lugging their own crap around in their own cars, setting up and playing for five or 10 people,” said Wysocki, speaking from a tour stop in Orlando. “It gives you perspective, and helps you be appreciative when a lot of people start coming.”
Wysocki, vocalist/pianist Isaac Slade and guitarists Joe King and Dave Welsh traveled to record their debut with John Mellencamp guitarist Mike Wanchic. Located in Bloomington, Ind., the location provided The Fray privacy and the focus needed to complete “How to Save a Life.” The resulting 12 tracks reveal four young, clean-cut guys putting together pleasing piano pop ready-made for radio, video channels and TV soundtracks.
The single “Over My Head (Cable Car)” found its way onto the NBC sitcom “Scrubs” along with ABC's “Grey's Anatomy,” propelling the band into the national spotlight. The Fray warmed up for Weezer and Ben Folds before headlining the current (mostly sold out) tour, which stops at SDSU's Open Air Theatre Saturday.
Humble beginnings, earn your chops, record an album, sudden rise to fame, 21/2 tours. That's a lot to pack into four years. The fast track to fame wrecks many bands, getting lost in excess or believing the rock-star myth. But Wysocki and his mates have their heads on right.
“We consider ourselves husbands first, and that keeps us really grounded,” Wysocki said. “We may play a show for 6,000 people, and then call our wives after the show. And they're just waiting for us to get home and take the trash out. I'm still just Ben to her, and that's a really important thing.”
“This job is a privilege, and our whole band feels like it's a privilege,” Wysocki continued. “There are a lot of bands that we've known that would just dream to be where we're at and doing what we're doing.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The Union-Tribune
November 9, 2006
In four short years, The Fray has elevated from a regional band kicking around Denver to gold records, TV soundtracks and videos plastered all over MTV and VH-1. The reason why? The foursome crafts infectious pop songs with hummable choruses.
It also doesn't hurt to make a few friends along the way.
“We just tried to make as many friends as we could in the Denver area, whether they were in another band or a booking agent or bar owners or local press or on local TV news,” said drummer Ben Wysocki, recalling the band's early days in the Mile High City. “It really can't hurt to know somebody.
“It got to the point where we had spread ourselves pretty thin around Denver, almost to the point of playing too much around town. People may have been getting a little sick of us. But you almost have to get it to that point for everything to spread beyond Denver.”
And it did spread beyond Denver. After earning the title best new band from Denver alternative weekly Westword (think the Reader, but better), The Fray earned a record contract with Epic and started on its journey to popular notoriety. But before record contracts, bands need to earn their chops if they want to weather the storms of popularity.
“Every band has to do their time lugging their own crap around in their own cars, setting up and playing for five or 10 people,” said Wysocki, speaking from a tour stop in Orlando. “It gives you perspective, and helps you be appreciative when a lot of people start coming.”
Wysocki, vocalist/pianist Isaac Slade and guitarists Joe King and Dave Welsh traveled to record their debut with John Mellencamp guitarist Mike Wanchic. Located in Bloomington, Ind., the location provided The Fray privacy and the focus needed to complete “How to Save a Life.” The resulting 12 tracks reveal four young, clean-cut guys putting together pleasing piano pop ready-made for radio, video channels and TV soundtracks.
The single “Over My Head (Cable Car)” found its way onto the NBC sitcom “Scrubs” along with ABC's “Grey's Anatomy,” propelling the band into the national spotlight. The Fray warmed up for Weezer and Ben Folds before headlining the current (mostly sold out) tour, which stops at SDSU's Open Air Theatre Saturday.
Humble beginnings, earn your chops, record an album, sudden rise to fame, 21/2 tours. That's a lot to pack into four years. The fast track to fame wrecks many bands, getting lost in excess or believing the rock-star myth. But Wysocki and his mates have their heads on right.
“We consider ourselves husbands first, and that keeps us really grounded,” Wysocki said. “We may play a show for 6,000 people, and then call our wives after the show. And they're just waiting for us to get home and take the trash out. I'm still just Ben to her, and that's a really important thing.”
“This job is a privilege, and our whole band feels like it's a privilege,” Wysocki continued. “There are a lot of bands that we've known that would just dream to be where we're at and doing what we're doing.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
The future of punk rock lies in the past
Rise Against to make sure the torch of punk is passed on
By Chris Nixon
For the Union-Tribune
October 26, 2006
Tim McIlrath, lead singer of Chicago-based hardcore quartet Rise Against, fears for the future of punk rock.
“I'm just afraid that there won't be kids like us in the next generation,” said McIlrath recently from his home in Chicago. “I feel like the generation before us did such a good job of passing on that torch, passing on that legacy of punk and everything involved with it.
“I feel like less and less people are passing it on because there are guys that are just so jaded that they don't talk to the next generation of kids about what they believe. Or maybe they just don't believe anymore. Who knows?”
Rise Against believes passionately in the future of punk and educating the leaders of tomorrow through their lyrics, music and even the band's liner notes. Along with a musical laundry list of early punk bands (Minor Threat and Black Flag), McIlrath and his mates include a reading list in the liner notes of Rise Against's albums.
For the 26-year-old singer, books like Ray Bradbury's “Fahrenheit 451” shaped who he is and his outlook on the world.
“When you read a book like 'Fahrenheit 451' at the age of 15, it just blows your mind,” McIlrath said. “You're thinking this is a cool sci-fi novel about some future time when people burn books, then you realize he's talking about our world. This is talking about the world we live in and the world we could live in if we allow these things to happen.
“When you look up from that book, you see the world with a whole different view. A lot of those authors are what led me to find punk rock instead of mainstream music.”
Rise Against formed in 1999, emerging from a Chicago scene known more for its indie rock (Tortoise and Shellac) than its old school political punk. McIlrath wanted to bust out of the shoegazer mentality and offer more passion and energy in his music.
Rise Against recorded and released “Siren Song of the Counter Culture” in 2004 but received little support from the Geffen label because no one really knew the band at the label. McIlrath, along with guitarist Chris Chasse, bassist Joe Principe and drummer Brandon Barnes, took the cold shoulder in stride. Using a page from their DIY predecessors, the quartet went on tour nonstop and earned listeners one city at a time.
Without label support, Rise Against sold enough records to pique the interest of the label, and ever since, the four guys from Chi-town have had the major-label backing they deserve: “Everyone there is really into the band and into the message. We still don't sell a million records like other artists on Geffen, but they care about us like we do.”
Touring in support of this year's “The Sufferer and the Witness,” Rise Against will play a Halloween show at SOMA.
“I just hope the kids in the front row of a Rise Against show are the next big wave of bands,” McIlrath said. “I want to be able to say those are the kids that are going to write songs that are going to change lives 10 years from now.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
By Chris Nixon
For the Union-Tribune
October 26, 2006
Tim McIlrath, lead singer of Chicago-based hardcore quartet Rise Against, fears for the future of punk rock.
“I'm just afraid that there won't be kids like us in the next generation,” said McIlrath recently from his home in Chicago. “I feel like the generation before us did such a good job of passing on that torch, passing on that legacy of punk and everything involved with it.
“I feel like less and less people are passing it on because there are guys that are just so jaded that they don't talk to the next generation of kids about what they believe. Or maybe they just don't believe anymore. Who knows?”
Rise Against believes passionately in the future of punk and educating the leaders of tomorrow through their lyrics, music and even the band's liner notes. Along with a musical laundry list of early punk bands (Minor Threat and Black Flag), McIlrath and his mates include a reading list in the liner notes of Rise Against's albums.
For the 26-year-old singer, books like Ray Bradbury's “Fahrenheit 451” shaped who he is and his outlook on the world.
“When you read a book like 'Fahrenheit 451' at the age of 15, it just blows your mind,” McIlrath said. “You're thinking this is a cool sci-fi novel about some future time when people burn books, then you realize he's talking about our world. This is talking about the world we live in and the world we could live in if we allow these things to happen.
“When you look up from that book, you see the world with a whole different view. A lot of those authors are what led me to find punk rock instead of mainstream music.”
Rise Against formed in 1999, emerging from a Chicago scene known more for its indie rock (Tortoise and Shellac) than its old school political punk. McIlrath wanted to bust out of the shoegazer mentality and offer more passion and energy in his music.
Rise Against recorded and released “Siren Song of the Counter Culture” in 2004 but received little support from the Geffen label because no one really knew the band at the label. McIlrath, along with guitarist Chris Chasse, bassist Joe Principe and drummer Brandon Barnes, took the cold shoulder in stride. Using a page from their DIY predecessors, the quartet went on tour nonstop and earned listeners one city at a time.
Without label support, Rise Against sold enough records to pique the interest of the label, and ever since, the four guys from Chi-town have had the major-label backing they deserve: “Everyone there is really into the band and into the message. We still don't sell a million records like other artists on Geffen, but they care about us like we do.”
Touring in support of this year's “The Sufferer and the Witness,” Rise Against will play a Halloween show at SOMA.
“I just hope the kids in the front row of a Rise Against show are the next big wave of bands,” McIlrath said. “I want to be able to say those are the kids that are going to write songs that are going to change lives 10 years from now.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
Hawthorne Heights in N&D
Hawthorne Heights hits the road following a dream
By Chris Nixon
For the Union-Tribune
October 26, 2006
I was born in a small town, and I can breathe in a small town, sang Ohio native John Mellencamp in his well-worn '80s hit song. But breathing don't pay the bills. In reality, Mellencamp had to leave his small town in order to attain fame and notoriety.
So did Hawthorne Heights, the emo-pop fivesome from Dayton, Ohio. But for drummer Eron Bucciarelli, vocalist JT Woodruff, bassist Matt Ridenour and guitarists Casey Calvert and Micah Carli, the escape from Dayton set Hawthorne Heights on a rapid ascendance to record label contracts and a full-time gig making music.
“We understood early on that if we were going to realize our goal and our dream of being professional musicians, then we'd have to get out of Dayton and play elsewhere,” said Bucciarelli on a recent stop in Arkansas on the current Nintendo Fusion Tour. “Our fans aren't really swarming all over Dayton or anywhere in the Midwest.”
Formed in 2001, Hawthorne Heights came out of a hardcore, punk and metal background. But as years progressed and the band matured, more pop sentiment and mainstream sentimentality worked its way into the group's music: “As we've gotten older, we've gotten more into pop and songwriting, so we like to blend all those elements together.”
Hawthorne Heights signed with Victory Records and released two albums – 2004's “The Silence in Black and White” and this year's “If Only You Were Lonely” – gaining more fans through national distribution and constant touring. Mixing grinding guitars, metal growls and saccharine sweet pop hooks, Hawthorne Heights found a foothold in the disenchanted youth of America.
Despite all the promise, the relationship with Victory would end as most disagreements do in the music industry: in a court of law. Hawthorne Heights is currently suing the label for breach of contract, copyright and trademark infringement, fraud and abuse.
“I guess we've learned that you really can't trust anybody. You have to look out for yourself. If I had one piece of advice: Definitely get a good entertainment lawyer to watch your back,” said Bucciarelli.
Until the legal issues get sorted out, Hawthorne Heights remains in a holding pattern regarding fresh material and new albums. But on the current tour, which hits SOMA tomorrow, the kids from Dayton are writing the songs that will become the band's next record.
“We were in the back of our bus working on a new song,” Bucciarelli said. “As far as a new record label, we kind of have to see what happens. But we're open to any possibilities.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
By Chris Nixon
For the Union-Tribune
October 26, 2006
I was born in a small town, and I can breathe in a small town, sang Ohio native John Mellencamp in his well-worn '80s hit song. But breathing don't pay the bills. In reality, Mellencamp had to leave his small town in order to attain fame and notoriety.
So did Hawthorne Heights, the emo-pop fivesome from Dayton, Ohio. But for drummer Eron Bucciarelli, vocalist JT Woodruff, bassist Matt Ridenour and guitarists Casey Calvert and Micah Carli, the escape from Dayton set Hawthorne Heights on a rapid ascendance to record label contracts and a full-time gig making music.
“We understood early on that if we were going to realize our goal and our dream of being professional musicians, then we'd have to get out of Dayton and play elsewhere,” said Bucciarelli on a recent stop in Arkansas on the current Nintendo Fusion Tour. “Our fans aren't really swarming all over Dayton or anywhere in the Midwest.”
Formed in 2001, Hawthorne Heights came out of a hardcore, punk and metal background. But as years progressed and the band matured, more pop sentiment and mainstream sentimentality worked its way into the group's music: “As we've gotten older, we've gotten more into pop and songwriting, so we like to blend all those elements together.”
Hawthorne Heights signed with Victory Records and released two albums – 2004's “The Silence in Black and White” and this year's “If Only You Were Lonely” – gaining more fans through national distribution and constant touring. Mixing grinding guitars, metal growls and saccharine sweet pop hooks, Hawthorne Heights found a foothold in the disenchanted youth of America.
Despite all the promise, the relationship with Victory would end as most disagreements do in the music industry: in a court of law. Hawthorne Heights is currently suing the label for breach of contract, copyright and trademark infringement, fraud and abuse.
“I guess we've learned that you really can't trust anybody. You have to look out for yourself. If I had one piece of advice: Definitely get a good entertainment lawyer to watch your back,” said Bucciarelli.
Until the legal issues get sorted out, Hawthorne Heights remains in a holding pattern regarding fresh material and new albums. But on the current tour, which hits SOMA tomorrow, the kids from Dayton are writing the songs that will become the band's next record.
“We were in the back of our bus working on a new song,” Bucciarelli said. “As far as a new record label, we kind of have to see what happens. But we're open to any possibilities.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Bonnie "Prince" Billy in N&D
Oldham warmed to challenges in Iceland
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
October 19, 2006
Frigid temperatures and long, dark nights dominate Iceland's winter months. With just four hours of daylight during the holidays, cabin fever and bleak thoughts battle with hope and happiness in the human mind during the long, dark chill.
Wrapped in the warmth of Valgier Sigurdsson's Reykjavik studio Greenhouse, Will Oldham recorded “The Letting Go” filled with his trademark contemplative, quiet music. Under the moniker Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Oldham used Iceland's wintry scenery to help focus the sessions for his fifth solo studio album.
“I think the strengths of recording in Iceland at that time of year had to do with the severity of the landscape, the cold and the darkness that we would be surrounded by and even the strange proportion of foreign to familiar being there, as well,” said Oldham from his home in Louisville, Ky.
“We tried to utilize those things,” he continued. “We would be forced to look at each other and listen to each other and focus on each other and focus on the songs and focus on the task at hand. And then when we did look out, have what we looked at to be full of sense of wonder and awesome novelty, as well.”
Oldham's songs embody the wave of singer-songwriters revitalizing folk and acoustic Americana music in the past decade: great lyrics matched with a willingness to take folk beyond just the formula of three chords and a catchy chorus.
“The Letting Go” finds Oldham teaming with Faun Fables vocalist Dawn McCarthy, who provides haunting harmonies on the record's 13 tracks. Sigurdsson adds beautiful, strong arrangements and just a touch of electric elements to offset all of the acoustic imagery. But McCarthy leaves the strongest impression on “The Letting Go.”
“Of all the great singers in independent music and punk rock over the last 30 years, there aren't a lot of people that focus on their voice,” Oldham said, explaining McCarthy's skills and her influence on the album. “Dawn always has been and will always be curious about how the voice works on a musical and mystical and religious and rhythmic and harmonic level.”
Oldham's been a professional musician for 15 years, and his songwriting is starting to reach larger audiences as he continues down his artistic path. In 2000, Johnny Cash gave his stamp of approval, recording the Oldham song “I See a Darkness” on his “American III: Solitary Man” album. For the 35-year-old Oldham, his progression as a songwriter and singer has always been a matter of doing the best with what you've got.
“I think in both spheres – singing and songwriting – there has been some progress,” said Oldham, who will perform Monday at the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach. “With both, there's always been an attempt to work within the limit of the ability at hand. And then the ability evolves. So there's a different utilization of skills now. It's OK to work on a different batch of songs that have different strength to them.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
October 19, 2006
Frigid temperatures and long, dark nights dominate Iceland's winter months. With just four hours of daylight during the holidays, cabin fever and bleak thoughts battle with hope and happiness in the human mind during the long, dark chill.
Wrapped in the warmth of Valgier Sigurdsson's Reykjavik studio Greenhouse, Will Oldham recorded “The Letting Go” filled with his trademark contemplative, quiet music. Under the moniker Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Oldham used Iceland's wintry scenery to help focus the sessions for his fifth solo studio album.
“I think the strengths of recording in Iceland at that time of year had to do with the severity of the landscape, the cold and the darkness that we would be surrounded by and even the strange proportion of foreign to familiar being there, as well,” said Oldham from his home in Louisville, Ky.
“We tried to utilize those things,” he continued. “We would be forced to look at each other and listen to each other and focus on each other and focus on the songs and focus on the task at hand. And then when we did look out, have what we looked at to be full of sense of wonder and awesome novelty, as well.”
Oldham's songs embody the wave of singer-songwriters revitalizing folk and acoustic Americana music in the past decade: great lyrics matched with a willingness to take folk beyond just the formula of three chords and a catchy chorus.
“The Letting Go” finds Oldham teaming with Faun Fables vocalist Dawn McCarthy, who provides haunting harmonies on the record's 13 tracks. Sigurdsson adds beautiful, strong arrangements and just a touch of electric elements to offset all of the acoustic imagery. But McCarthy leaves the strongest impression on “The Letting Go.”
“Of all the great singers in independent music and punk rock over the last 30 years, there aren't a lot of people that focus on their voice,” Oldham said, explaining McCarthy's skills and her influence on the album. “Dawn always has been and will always be curious about how the voice works on a musical and mystical and religious and rhythmic and harmonic level.”
Oldham's been a professional musician for 15 years, and his songwriting is starting to reach larger audiences as he continues down his artistic path. In 2000, Johnny Cash gave his stamp of approval, recording the Oldham song “I See a Darkness” on his “American III: Solitary Man” album. For the 35-year-old Oldham, his progression as a songwriter and singer has always been a matter of doing the best with what you've got.
“I think in both spheres – singing and songwriting – there has been some progress,” said Oldham, who will perform Monday at the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach. “With both, there's always been an attempt to work within the limit of the ability at hand. And then the ability evolves. So there's a different utilization of skills now. It's OK to work on a different batch of songs that have different strength to them.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Festival Del Mar preview
And the name fits
Breakestra's a combination of styles that works
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
September 21, 2006
Egon – general manager of the Los Angeles taste-making hip-hop/turntablist label Stones Throw Records – explains the etymology behind Breakestra's name:
“Break: As in 'breakbeat,' that 10-second slice of percussive magic in the middle of a funk song that, when looped together by progressive South Bronx DJs in the 1970s, became the basis of the hip-hop movement.
“Arkestra: Out-there jazzer Sun Ra's funkafied concept of the stuffy classical orchestra.”
Jazz. Funk. Soul. Hip-hop. They all find a home in Breakestra's music.
In 1996, bandleader Miles Tackett – also known under his DJ moniker This Kid Named Miles – started a weekly dance party at a coffee shop in Los Angeles. Soon, the parties were drawing the best beatboxers, DJs, MCs and break dancers the city had to offer, including DJs such as Stones Throw founder Peanut Butter Wolf and Cut Chemist (Ozomatli, Jurassic 5).
Tackett, son of musician Fred Tackett (guitar, mandolin, trumpet) of Little Feat, added his own love of funk and 1960s soul jazz to the mix by providing a house band. Fronted by Tackett on bass and vocals and singer Mixmaster Wolf, the hip-hop/funk orchestra learned on the job.
Breakestra shares the bill with family (Little Feat), hip-hop friends (Dilated Peoples) and funk legends (Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings) at this weekend's Festival Del Mar.
“Breakestra came from a club I started with a couple of friends called The Breaks, and we were the house band,” said Tackett just before sound check for a gig in Flagstaff, Ariz. “There wasn't anybody playing those deeper breaks. The main impetus and the main motivation was my love of rare grooves, funk and soul jazz so much, and I enjoyed playing it.”
Now, the funk big band – featuring Pat “The Snake” Bailey (guitar), Shawn O'Shandy (drums), Dan Hastie (Fender Rhodes, organ) Chuck Prada (percussion), James “The Penguin” King (sax, flute) Devin Williams and Todd Simon (trumpet) – has released an album of funk and soul-jazz originals. Released on Ubiquity Records, 2005's “Hit the Floor” captured Breakestra's sound but didn't begin to cover the band's energy live. Breakestra is carrying the funk torch into the new millennium, but it is just getting started, and Tackett remains humble in his perspectives.
“I don't ever feel presumptuous enough to think we're as good as the real foundations of funk, but we're certainly happy about what we do,” Tackett said. “It's hard to top what's gone on in funk music, but I'm happy to be a part of it and contribute to it. I'm happy to try and keep that feel, that sound, alive. So, it's an honor to be able to do it.”
Now in its second year, the two-day Festival Del Mar at the Del Mar Racetrack features an array of funk, soul rock and hip-hop.
Festival director and founder Chris Wepsic described how Festival Del Mar began: “I love music and I love Del Mar. I teamed up with some old friends from college and high school, and we formed a team of people to create this festival. Our lineup is eclectic, from reggae to hip-hop, classical to rock.”
Still in its infancy, the festival will try to draw North County music fans and lure San Diegans away from the Adams Avenue Street Fair, also going on this weekend.
Wepsic is upbeat on the festival's future: “The festival should be around as long as music enthusiasts attend. We hope to grow gracefully.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Here are four to catch at this year's Festival Del Mar:
Medeski Martin & Wood (Saturday at 4-5:15 p.m., Don Kirchner Memorial Stage): Drummer Billy Martin, keyboardist John Medeski and bassist Chris Wood make up one of our era's best bands. Medeski Martin & Wood is equally comfortable settling into an experimental soul-jazz groove with acoustic instruments as it is riding the waves of free jazz Sun Ra-style with full-on electric gear. Freely associating with DJs, jam bands and old-school fusion cats, MMW harbors no fear of genre-skipping, and its explorative live shows reflect their musical nerve.
Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings (Saturday at 5:15-6:30 p.m., Belly Up Stage): The last time Sharon Jones came to town, she tore up the Casbah's tiny stage. As she exited, she stopped to give a fan a big, sweaty hug. That's Sharon Jones. She exudes love and soul seemingly with every step, and her crack band, the Dap-Kings, follows her every step with precision and emotion. Jones hails from Augusta, Ga., James Brown's hometown, and she has earned her birthright, serving up hard love and sweet funk a la the Godfather of Soul.
Dilated Peoples (Sunday at 4-5:15 p.m., Don Kirchner Memorial Stage): Put out one of my eyes and I still got two / Put out the second one and I can still see you, Triple Optics, rhymes MCs Evidence and Rakaa Iriscience on 2000's “The Platform,” the debut full-length from Los Angeles hip-hop trio Dilated Peoples. Emerging from the same underground L.A. hip-hop scene that spawned Jurassic 5, Evidence and Rakaa Iriscience along with DJ Babu (the man who coined the term “turntablist”) kick the positive rhymes without sounding preachy or PC.
Cake (Sunday at 6:45-8 p.m., Don Krichner Memorial Stage): Led by songwriter John McCrea, Cake continues to carve its own niche. After 14 years of existence and a major-label recording career over the past decade, the group lures new fans with each release. Often described as sarcastic, ironic, satirical, sardonic and even caustic, McCrea's lyrics cleverly use metaphors and a sly tongue-in-cheek attitude to create his image of the perfect woman, tell stories of lost love and comment on the benefits of bench seats versus bucket seats in automobiles.
– CHRIS NIXON
Breakestra's a combination of styles that works
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
September 21, 2006
Egon – general manager of the Los Angeles taste-making hip-hop/turntablist label Stones Throw Records – explains the etymology behind Breakestra's name:
“Break: As in 'breakbeat,' that 10-second slice of percussive magic in the middle of a funk song that, when looped together by progressive South Bronx DJs in the 1970s, became the basis of the hip-hop movement.
“Arkestra: Out-there jazzer Sun Ra's funkafied concept of the stuffy classical orchestra.”
Jazz. Funk. Soul. Hip-hop. They all find a home in Breakestra's music.
In 1996, bandleader Miles Tackett – also known under his DJ moniker This Kid Named Miles – started a weekly dance party at a coffee shop in Los Angeles. Soon, the parties were drawing the best beatboxers, DJs, MCs and break dancers the city had to offer, including DJs such as Stones Throw founder Peanut Butter Wolf and Cut Chemist (Ozomatli, Jurassic 5).
Tackett, son of musician Fred Tackett (guitar, mandolin, trumpet) of Little Feat, added his own love of funk and 1960s soul jazz to the mix by providing a house band. Fronted by Tackett on bass and vocals and singer Mixmaster Wolf, the hip-hop/funk orchestra learned on the job.
Breakestra shares the bill with family (Little Feat), hip-hop friends (Dilated Peoples) and funk legends (Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings) at this weekend's Festival Del Mar.
“Breakestra came from a club I started with a couple of friends called The Breaks, and we were the house band,” said Tackett just before sound check for a gig in Flagstaff, Ariz. “There wasn't anybody playing those deeper breaks. The main impetus and the main motivation was my love of rare grooves, funk and soul jazz so much, and I enjoyed playing it.”
Now, the funk big band – featuring Pat “The Snake” Bailey (guitar), Shawn O'Shandy (drums), Dan Hastie (Fender Rhodes, organ) Chuck Prada (percussion), James “The Penguin” King (sax, flute) Devin Williams and Todd Simon (trumpet) – has released an album of funk and soul-jazz originals. Released on Ubiquity Records, 2005's “Hit the Floor” captured Breakestra's sound but didn't begin to cover the band's energy live. Breakestra is carrying the funk torch into the new millennium, but it is just getting started, and Tackett remains humble in his perspectives.
“I don't ever feel presumptuous enough to think we're as good as the real foundations of funk, but we're certainly happy about what we do,” Tackett said. “It's hard to top what's gone on in funk music, but I'm happy to be a part of it and contribute to it. I'm happy to try and keep that feel, that sound, alive. So, it's an honor to be able to do it.”
Now in its second year, the two-day Festival Del Mar at the Del Mar Racetrack features an array of funk, soul rock and hip-hop.
Festival director and founder Chris Wepsic described how Festival Del Mar began: “I love music and I love Del Mar. I teamed up with some old friends from college and high school, and we formed a team of people to create this festival. Our lineup is eclectic, from reggae to hip-hop, classical to rock.”
Still in its infancy, the festival will try to draw North County music fans and lure San Diegans away from the Adams Avenue Street Fair, also going on this weekend.
Wepsic is upbeat on the festival's future: “The festival should be around as long as music enthusiasts attend. We hope to grow gracefully.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Here are four to catch at this year's Festival Del Mar:
Medeski Martin & Wood (Saturday at 4-5:15 p.m., Don Kirchner Memorial Stage): Drummer Billy Martin, keyboardist John Medeski and bassist Chris Wood make up one of our era's best bands. Medeski Martin & Wood is equally comfortable settling into an experimental soul-jazz groove with acoustic instruments as it is riding the waves of free jazz Sun Ra-style with full-on electric gear. Freely associating with DJs, jam bands and old-school fusion cats, MMW harbors no fear of genre-skipping, and its explorative live shows reflect their musical nerve.
Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings (Saturday at 5:15-6:30 p.m., Belly Up Stage): The last time Sharon Jones came to town, she tore up the Casbah's tiny stage. As she exited, she stopped to give a fan a big, sweaty hug. That's Sharon Jones. She exudes love and soul seemingly with every step, and her crack band, the Dap-Kings, follows her every step with precision and emotion. Jones hails from Augusta, Ga., James Brown's hometown, and she has earned her birthright, serving up hard love and sweet funk a la the Godfather of Soul.
Dilated Peoples (Sunday at 4-5:15 p.m., Don Kirchner Memorial Stage): Put out one of my eyes and I still got two / Put out the second one and I can still see you, Triple Optics, rhymes MCs Evidence and Rakaa Iriscience on 2000's “The Platform,” the debut full-length from Los Angeles hip-hop trio Dilated Peoples. Emerging from the same underground L.A. hip-hop scene that spawned Jurassic 5, Evidence and Rakaa Iriscience along with DJ Babu (the man who coined the term “turntablist”) kick the positive rhymes without sounding preachy or PC.
Cake (Sunday at 6:45-8 p.m., Don Krichner Memorial Stage): Led by songwriter John McCrea, Cake continues to carve its own niche. After 14 years of existence and a major-label recording career over the past decade, the group lures new fans with each release. Often described as sarcastic, ironic, satirical, sardonic and even caustic, McCrea's lyrics cleverly use metaphors and a sly tongue-in-cheek attitude to create his image of the perfect woman, tell stories of lost love and comment on the benefits of bench seats versus bucket seats in automobiles.
– CHRIS NIXON
Casa de Kasabian
'We're just starting here'
Popular in the U.K., Kasabian hopes to duplicate that success in the U.S.
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego-Union
October 5, 2006
'A lot of the comparisons between us and Oasis are just lazy journalism,” said Kasabian guitarist and songwriter Serge Pizzorno, speaking via phone just before a gig in Montreal, Canada. “A lot of people get caught up in reading old interviews, and letting other people's opinions influence what they feel and write.”
In a way, Pizzorno's right. Just about every piece of rock journalism you read about his band, Kasabian, relates the English band to their mates from the famous Manchester scene: Oasis, Primal Scream, Happy Mondays, The Stone Roses. These bands and the slew of groups hailing from the industrial city updated psychedelic rock in the '90s, using fuzzy guitars to loosen up formulaic, alternative music that ruled the day.
But Kasabian isn't from Manchester. Pizzorno and his cohorts – vocalist Tom Meighan, bassist Christopher Edwards, drummer Ian Matthews and new guitarist Jay Mehler – actually hail from Leicester, a diverse city of immigrants located in England's Eastern Midlands, about 100 miles north of London. And the quintet's two albums borrow more from Gary Glitter's glam anthems and electronica than Oasis or any of the other Mancurian bands ever did.
Pizzorno explained: “It's annoying because if you actually listen to either album, the first album or 'Empire,' it doesn't sound like Oasis. Noel Gallagher (Oasis' guitarist) will tell you that straight up. We share the same spirit.
“We're a gang and we stick together. We have lot of fun and we get into trouble. But musically I think we're far different. Oasis could never get away with putting a song like 'Stuntman' (which features ambient keyboards and a driving techno sound) on a record. We can.”
Named after Linda Kasabian (a Manson family member and driver of the gang during the infamous Tate murders in L.A.), the band delivered its self-titled debut in 2004. The album reached No. 4 in the U.K. charts and No. 94 in the U.S. Soon after the record's release, Kasabian's glam-psychedelic-rock sound drew comparisons to Oasis from critics in England and beyond.
“I think we were simply dismissed as a rehashing of the Manchester scene,” remembered Pizzorno, who noted that the criticism added fuel to the recording of 2006's “Empire.” “We were never a part of that, but people made up their minds that's what we were.
“Rock 'n' roll is at its best when it's challenged. I think we felt like when we went into the studio we wanted to make the most amazing record we ever could. We weren't going to hide. We were going to try and blow people's minds. I think we did that.”
The 11 tracks on “Empire” cover everything from the Gary Glitter shuffle on “Shoot The Runner” (which would make an excellent sports arena rock tune) to Chemical Brothers techno (“Apnoea”), strummy acoustic balladry (“British Legion”), and even a dramatic mariachi trumpet solo on the disc's last track (“The Doberman”).
“It's a positive record,” said Pizzorno. “It's a record that makes you feel good about yourself. With where we are at the moment and the state of the world being what it is, it's important that people can still feel good.”
“Empire” debuted at No. 1 on the U.K. pop charts, but Kasabian still has work to do in the United States to match its popularity in England.
“We're just starting here,” said Pizzorno. “It's a big, big place. We did very well with the first album, considering the kind of band that we are. In a way, we are very British. So American culture is a little alien to us, and I'm sure we're alien to the kids here. It's just a matter of going around and playing, showing people. The people we are playing to – we've sold out every show – they're losing their minds. So hopefully we can get more people to come the next time through, and we'll keep building on it.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Popular in the U.K., Kasabian hopes to duplicate that success in the U.S.
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego-Union
October 5, 2006
'A lot of the comparisons between us and Oasis are just lazy journalism,” said Kasabian guitarist and songwriter Serge Pizzorno, speaking via phone just before a gig in Montreal, Canada. “A lot of people get caught up in reading old interviews, and letting other people's opinions influence what they feel and write.”
In a way, Pizzorno's right. Just about every piece of rock journalism you read about his band, Kasabian, relates the English band to their mates from the famous Manchester scene: Oasis, Primal Scream, Happy Mondays, The Stone Roses. These bands and the slew of groups hailing from the industrial city updated psychedelic rock in the '90s, using fuzzy guitars to loosen up formulaic, alternative music that ruled the day.
But Kasabian isn't from Manchester. Pizzorno and his cohorts – vocalist Tom Meighan, bassist Christopher Edwards, drummer Ian Matthews and new guitarist Jay Mehler – actually hail from Leicester, a diverse city of immigrants located in England's Eastern Midlands, about 100 miles north of London. And the quintet's two albums borrow more from Gary Glitter's glam anthems and electronica than Oasis or any of the other Mancurian bands ever did.
Pizzorno explained: “It's annoying because if you actually listen to either album, the first album or 'Empire,' it doesn't sound like Oasis. Noel Gallagher (Oasis' guitarist) will tell you that straight up. We share the same spirit.
“We're a gang and we stick together. We have lot of fun and we get into trouble. But musically I think we're far different. Oasis could never get away with putting a song like 'Stuntman' (which features ambient keyboards and a driving techno sound) on a record. We can.”
Named after Linda Kasabian (a Manson family member and driver of the gang during the infamous Tate murders in L.A.), the band delivered its self-titled debut in 2004. The album reached No. 4 in the U.K. charts and No. 94 in the U.S. Soon after the record's release, Kasabian's glam-psychedelic-rock sound drew comparisons to Oasis from critics in England and beyond.
“I think we were simply dismissed as a rehashing of the Manchester scene,” remembered Pizzorno, who noted that the criticism added fuel to the recording of 2006's “Empire.” “We were never a part of that, but people made up their minds that's what we were.
“Rock 'n' roll is at its best when it's challenged. I think we felt like when we went into the studio we wanted to make the most amazing record we ever could. We weren't going to hide. We were going to try and blow people's minds. I think we did that.”
The 11 tracks on “Empire” cover everything from the Gary Glitter shuffle on “Shoot The Runner” (which would make an excellent sports arena rock tune) to Chemical Brothers techno (“Apnoea”), strummy acoustic balladry (“British Legion”), and even a dramatic mariachi trumpet solo on the disc's last track (“The Doberman”).
“It's a positive record,” said Pizzorno. “It's a record that makes you feel good about yourself. With where we are at the moment and the state of the world being what it is, it's important that people can still feel good.”
“Empire” debuted at No. 1 on the U.K. pop charts, but Kasabian still has work to do in the United States to match its popularity in England.
“We're just starting here,” said Pizzorno. “It's a big, big place. We did very well with the first album, considering the kind of band that we are. In a way, we are very British. So American culture is a little alien to us, and I'm sure we're alien to the kids here. It's just a matter of going around and playing, showing people. The people we are playing to – we've sold out every show – they're losing their minds. So hopefully we can get more people to come the next time through, and we'll keep building on it.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Synth plus guitar equals Ladytron
Live shows prompted Ladytron to shift gears
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
October 12, 2006
Chuck Berry's cascading early rock riffs; Jimi Hendrix's wah-wah psychedelic haze; Eddie Van Halen's buzz-saw, million-notes-per-second solos; Robert Fripp's delay-drenched, intricately interwoven guitar lines.
From the early days of rock 'n' roll, R&B and blues, the guitar remains the iconic instrument in popular music over the past 60-plus years. But since the 1980s, the keyboard has been creeping up on the guitar as the driving force behind pop and rock music. Wrapped in the synth-based sounds of electroclash, the guitar can emit myriad sounds, giving the music depth and a less-processed sound.
“There are guitars on this new album,” admits Reuben Wu, a founding member of the Liverpool-based quartet Ladytron, one of the earliest purveyors of electroclash. “But they're never really played in a way or recorded in a way that is traditional to the guitar. To us, the guitar is just a synthesizer with strings, it's just another form of oscillation.”
Driven by the crackle and buzz of electric analog keyboards, Ladytron's early music melded robotic electro-pop and cool female vocals. Taking their name from Bryan Ferry's song of the same name from Roxy Music's 1972 debut album, Wu and co-founder Daniel Hunt added vocalists Helen Marnie and Mira Aroyo to complete Ladytron's lineup.
“We had a whole load of synthesizers when we first started out,” says Wu from his home in England. “At the time, they were very cheap, and we loved the way they were sounding. They were old and analog and they were a joy to play when you're not touring. They're fantastic studio instruments. When you take them on tour, they break down very easily and go out of tune. They're not very reliable.”
The transition from a purely keyboard driven band to adding more traditional instruments like guitars, bass and drums stemmed from Ladytron's touring experiences.
“When we first started, we were very much electronic: We only hoped to reproduce the sound of the record onstage,” remembers Wu. “After doing a few tours, it got a bit boring. Even though the music sounded as it was on the record, it never really blew people away. We really wanted to be an amazing live band rather than being just how we sound on the records. So, we decided to take on a live drummer and bass player and we became a six-piece.”
By adding bassist Jon Levi and drummer Keith York, Ladytron filled out its sound, changing the way the band played live and also the way it recorded. The new attitude spilled over to the band's 2006 studio release, “Witching Hour,” on Island/Rykodisc, a swirling mixture of old-school synthesizer sounds and angular guitar lines.
“We used our live setup to think about how we put together our current music,” says Wu, who will take the stage Wednesday at the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach. “It's been an evolution really. We wanted to be good live, and that's the inspiration behind 'Witching Hour.' And it's almost like 'Witching Hour' has provided a base to build upon. I think we're finally happy with the sound that we've achieved with this album.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
October 12, 2006
Chuck Berry's cascading early rock riffs; Jimi Hendrix's wah-wah psychedelic haze; Eddie Van Halen's buzz-saw, million-notes-per-second solos; Robert Fripp's delay-drenched, intricately interwoven guitar lines.
From the early days of rock 'n' roll, R&B and blues, the guitar remains the iconic instrument in popular music over the past 60-plus years. But since the 1980s, the keyboard has been creeping up on the guitar as the driving force behind pop and rock music. Wrapped in the synth-based sounds of electroclash, the guitar can emit myriad sounds, giving the music depth and a less-processed sound.
“There are guitars on this new album,” admits Reuben Wu, a founding member of the Liverpool-based quartet Ladytron, one of the earliest purveyors of electroclash. “But they're never really played in a way or recorded in a way that is traditional to the guitar. To us, the guitar is just a synthesizer with strings, it's just another form of oscillation.”
Driven by the crackle and buzz of electric analog keyboards, Ladytron's early music melded robotic electro-pop and cool female vocals. Taking their name from Bryan Ferry's song of the same name from Roxy Music's 1972 debut album, Wu and co-founder Daniel Hunt added vocalists Helen Marnie and Mira Aroyo to complete Ladytron's lineup.
“We had a whole load of synthesizers when we first started out,” says Wu from his home in England. “At the time, they were very cheap, and we loved the way they were sounding. They were old and analog and they were a joy to play when you're not touring. They're fantastic studio instruments. When you take them on tour, they break down very easily and go out of tune. They're not very reliable.”
The transition from a purely keyboard driven band to adding more traditional instruments like guitars, bass and drums stemmed from Ladytron's touring experiences.
“When we first started, we were very much electronic: We only hoped to reproduce the sound of the record onstage,” remembers Wu. “After doing a few tours, it got a bit boring. Even though the music sounded as it was on the record, it never really blew people away. We really wanted to be an amazing live band rather than being just how we sound on the records. So, we decided to take on a live drummer and bass player and we became a six-piece.”
By adding bassist Jon Levi and drummer Keith York, Ladytron filled out its sound, changing the way the band played live and also the way it recorded. The new attitude spilled over to the band's 2006 studio release, “Witching Hour,” on Island/Rykodisc, a swirling mixture of old-school synthesizer sounds and angular guitar lines.
“We used our live setup to think about how we put together our current music,” says Wu, who will take the stage Wednesday at the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach. “It's been an evolution really. We wanted to be good live, and that's the inspiration behind 'Witching Hour.' And it's almost like 'Witching Hour' has provided a base to build upon. I think we're finally happy with the sound that we've achieved with this album.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
The Black Keys in N&D
Hard-hitting Black Keys are keeping it simple
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
September 14, 2006
Drummer Patrick Carney is getting ready to go out on tour with his band The Black Keys, but he's lacking one piece of key equipment before he hits the road.
“I've gotta go buy pants,” admits Carney, talking via phone from his home in Akron, Ohio, where he was born and raised. “I've got one pair of pants. I usually bring two pairs total on tour, so that way I can wear each pair for like four days. I usually don't even take deodorant. I usually just take Old Spice. That will cover up anything. I don't mind smelling really bad on tour. We're not very hygienic or fashionable.”
The Black Keys – Carney and childhood friend Dan Auerbach – create no-nonsense rock: just drums and guitar, ripping gritty rock 'n' roll. The Akron-based duo may not be the most hygienic band on Earth, but their honest rock makes no excuses. Auerbach's distorted slide guitar riffs and white-boy-soul vocals sidestep pretense and fashion in favor of earnest blues.
Hailing from the midsized Midwestern city, the pair met as kids and attended the University of Akron before dropping out to pursue music full time.
“It's like a cross between 'Family Ties' and 'Roseanne,' ” says Carney of his hometown. “Akron's a cool place. It's very laid-back, mostly because there's nothing to do.”
The Black Keys' straight-ahead sound stems from the band's stripped down recording process. Carney and Auerbach hunker down in the drummer's basement, controlling every aspect of an album's conception.
“For our first record, 'The Big Come Up,' the advance on our record deal was zero dollars,” Carney says. “We had zero dollars. So I got a credit card and went to Guitar Center and bought a digital recorder. So we basically realized (that) for $1,000, we could have unlimited time to make a recording. It may not be the best quality, but we'd have a lot of time.”
Complete with fuzzy, blissful blues guitar and unadulterated buzzing drums, a Black Keys recording defies the modern idea of a crisp, clean recording.
“I was happy having my drums being completely in mono and not being able to actually hear anything except the white noise of the cymbals,” Carney says. “And I still feel that way.”
For their current album, “Magic Potion” (released this month on Nonesuch Records), Carney and Auerbach have perfected the art of home recording. The disc staggers through 11 dusty tracks, sounding like they were born from bloodied, blistered hands.
The Black Keys come from a relatively small town, which spurred the band's DIY attitude. Even though “Magic Potion” is the duo's fourth album, they still record their own albums in their own basement and in their own way.
“Rather than taking an advance from a record label to go give it to somebody else, we take our advance and save most of it and buy a nice microphone,” Carney says. “And maybe an extra pair of pants. We just don't want our sound to be compromised. We don't ever want to be recorded so we sound like Phil Collins.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
September 14, 2006
Drummer Patrick Carney is getting ready to go out on tour with his band The Black Keys, but he's lacking one piece of key equipment before he hits the road.
“I've gotta go buy pants,” admits Carney, talking via phone from his home in Akron, Ohio, where he was born and raised. “I've got one pair of pants. I usually bring two pairs total on tour, so that way I can wear each pair for like four days. I usually don't even take deodorant. I usually just take Old Spice. That will cover up anything. I don't mind smelling really bad on tour. We're not very hygienic or fashionable.”
The Black Keys – Carney and childhood friend Dan Auerbach – create no-nonsense rock: just drums and guitar, ripping gritty rock 'n' roll. The Akron-based duo may not be the most hygienic band on Earth, but their honest rock makes no excuses. Auerbach's distorted slide guitar riffs and white-boy-soul vocals sidestep pretense and fashion in favor of earnest blues.
Hailing from the midsized Midwestern city, the pair met as kids and attended the University of Akron before dropping out to pursue music full time.
“It's like a cross between 'Family Ties' and 'Roseanne,' ” says Carney of his hometown. “Akron's a cool place. It's very laid-back, mostly because there's nothing to do.”
The Black Keys' straight-ahead sound stems from the band's stripped down recording process. Carney and Auerbach hunker down in the drummer's basement, controlling every aspect of an album's conception.
“For our first record, 'The Big Come Up,' the advance on our record deal was zero dollars,” Carney says. “We had zero dollars. So I got a credit card and went to Guitar Center and bought a digital recorder. So we basically realized (that) for $1,000, we could have unlimited time to make a recording. It may not be the best quality, but we'd have a lot of time.”
Complete with fuzzy, blissful blues guitar and unadulterated buzzing drums, a Black Keys recording defies the modern idea of a crisp, clean recording.
“I was happy having my drums being completely in mono and not being able to actually hear anything except the white noise of the cymbals,” Carney says. “And I still feel that way.”
For their current album, “Magic Potion” (released this month on Nonesuch Records), Carney and Auerbach have perfected the art of home recording. The disc staggers through 11 dusty tracks, sounding like they were born from bloodied, blistered hands.
The Black Keys come from a relatively small town, which spurred the band's DIY attitude. Even though “Magic Potion” is the duo's fourth album, they still record their own albums in their own basement and in their own way.
“Rather than taking an advance from a record label to go give it to somebody else, we take our advance and save most of it and buy a nice microphone,” Carney says. “And maybe an extra pair of pants. We just don't want our sound to be compromised. We don't ever want to be recorded so we sound like Phil Collins.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Massive Attack in N&D
Massive Attack always looks for new ways
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
September 14, 2006
Located on England's western coast, the city of Bristol bristles with half a million people, a crossroads between white and black people, reggae and punk, soul and Brit pop, hip-hop and drum 'n' bass, digital and analog. In the early 1990s, all of these aspects converged into one genre called trip-hop.
“It's hard to explain why it's been such a fertile area,” said Robert Del Naja, wondering aloud about Bristol and trip-hop, a genre he helped define with his group Massive Attack. “One thing I go back to is that period of time – the late '70s, early '80s. If you wanted to not be part of the commercial club scene, there were only a few clubs you could hang out at where black and white people would hang out. The punk scene was quite integrated with the reggae scene – punks listening to reggae DJs and vice versa.
“It was a community of people that cast themselves as outside the establishment, by choice or by the color of their skin,” continued Del Naja, speaking from a gig in Copenhagen as The Cardigans blared in the background. “Then along came hip-hop, which was another rebellious kind of art form. It was a period that a lot of people drew inspiration from.”
Massive Attack, Portishead, Tricky. These artists defined the “Bristol sound,” using technology to splice together the building blocks of hip-hop beats, coupled with a spacey dub sensibility and soulful jazz diva vocals.
“When we all started out, being in a small city and being quite competitive in a small music scene, everyone wanted to be respected as a unique component instead of being a part of something else,” Del Naja recalled. “When the term 'trip-hop' came out, we were all grouped together. But we all wanted to be seen as unique and individual.”
Despite wanting autonomy from others in the scene, Del Naja deemed the term “trip-hop” appropriate: “I thought it was a good description of music which obviously used the hip-hop technique in terms of recording and construction of the music, but at the same time went off on a tangent and was more of a psychedelic trip.”
Del Naja and partners Grant Marshall and Andrew Vowles released their first full-length “Blue Lines” in 1991 (with British singles “Unfinished Sympathy” and “Daydreaming” featuring the vocals of Shara Nelson), but didn't truly find their classic down-tempo sound until 1994's “Protection.” The album featured a more moody, introspective sound with the smooth rhymes of Del Naja and the growling raps of Tricky offset by the beautiful vocals of Everything But the Girl's Tracey Thorn.
Massive Attack continued to hone its trip-hop sound on 1998's “Mezzanine,” sliding into darker musical territory, this time without Vowles' collaboration. Sound manipulator Neil Davidge helped craft the album's eerie vibe, while Cocteau Twins vocalist Elizabeth Fraser added her angelic choruses. After a long hiatus, the group released “100th Window” in 2003, which failed to recapture their signature bittersweet down-tempo aura.
Soundtracks (“Danny the Dog” and “Bullet Boy”) and a greatest hits compilation (“Collected”) this year have kept Massive Attack busy the past few years, along with a high-profile appearance at this year's Coachella. The duo is currently working on a new release, tentatively titled “Weather Underground,” which Del Naja expects to be released next year.
Until then, Massive Attack will continue to find new ways to expand their music through technology. Del Naja believes tech and music will always be intertwined, and future musical innovations will come through the use of technology.
“I think that (technology) is a great tool to embrace,” said Del Naja, who performs at SDSU's Open Air Theatre Wednesday. The current North American tour is the band's first since 1998. “And I think that a lot of bands these days use the technology just to record their music and use it to mix a bit. But they don't use the technology to (mess) around with their tracks and branch out a bit, to be adventurous and take things apart. Music in general could use a bit more creative use of technology.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
September 14, 2006
Located on England's western coast, the city of Bristol bristles with half a million people, a crossroads between white and black people, reggae and punk, soul and Brit pop, hip-hop and drum 'n' bass, digital and analog. In the early 1990s, all of these aspects converged into one genre called trip-hop.
“It's hard to explain why it's been such a fertile area,” said Robert Del Naja, wondering aloud about Bristol and trip-hop, a genre he helped define with his group Massive Attack. “One thing I go back to is that period of time – the late '70s, early '80s. If you wanted to not be part of the commercial club scene, there were only a few clubs you could hang out at where black and white people would hang out. The punk scene was quite integrated with the reggae scene – punks listening to reggae DJs and vice versa.
“It was a community of people that cast themselves as outside the establishment, by choice or by the color of their skin,” continued Del Naja, speaking from a gig in Copenhagen as The Cardigans blared in the background. “Then along came hip-hop, which was another rebellious kind of art form. It was a period that a lot of people drew inspiration from.”
Massive Attack, Portishead, Tricky. These artists defined the “Bristol sound,” using technology to splice together the building blocks of hip-hop beats, coupled with a spacey dub sensibility and soulful jazz diva vocals.
“When we all started out, being in a small city and being quite competitive in a small music scene, everyone wanted to be respected as a unique component instead of being a part of something else,” Del Naja recalled. “When the term 'trip-hop' came out, we were all grouped together. But we all wanted to be seen as unique and individual.”
Despite wanting autonomy from others in the scene, Del Naja deemed the term “trip-hop” appropriate: “I thought it was a good description of music which obviously used the hip-hop technique in terms of recording and construction of the music, but at the same time went off on a tangent and was more of a psychedelic trip.”
Del Naja and partners Grant Marshall and Andrew Vowles released their first full-length “Blue Lines” in 1991 (with British singles “Unfinished Sympathy” and “Daydreaming” featuring the vocals of Shara Nelson), but didn't truly find their classic down-tempo sound until 1994's “Protection.” The album featured a more moody, introspective sound with the smooth rhymes of Del Naja and the growling raps of Tricky offset by the beautiful vocals of Everything But the Girl's Tracey Thorn.
Massive Attack continued to hone its trip-hop sound on 1998's “Mezzanine,” sliding into darker musical territory, this time without Vowles' collaboration. Sound manipulator Neil Davidge helped craft the album's eerie vibe, while Cocteau Twins vocalist Elizabeth Fraser added her angelic choruses. After a long hiatus, the group released “100th Window” in 2003, which failed to recapture their signature bittersweet down-tempo aura.
Soundtracks (“Danny the Dog” and “Bullet Boy”) and a greatest hits compilation (“Collected”) this year have kept Massive Attack busy the past few years, along with a high-profile appearance at this year's Coachella. The duo is currently working on a new release, tentatively titled “Weather Underground,” which Del Naja expects to be released next year.
Until then, Massive Attack will continue to find new ways to expand their music through technology. Del Naja believes tech and music will always be intertwined, and future musical innovations will come through the use of technology.
“I think that (technology) is a great tool to embrace,” said Del Naja, who performs at SDSU's Open Air Theatre Wednesday. The current North American tour is the band's first since 1998. “And I think that a lot of bands these days use the technology just to record their music and use it to mix a bit. But they don't use the technology to (mess) around with their tracks and branch out a bit, to be adventurous and take things apart. Music in general could use a bit more creative use of technology.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Greg Laswell in N&D
Laswell does a nice balancing act
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
September 7, 2006
'Sing,” Theresa says. “Sing happy things.”
“Theresa is my grandma; she passed away when I was 13,” recalled San Diego singer-songwriter Greg Laswell. “She's the happiest person I think I've ever come into contact with. Her life was really hard, but she had this energy to her. Nothing really got her down. She had this underlying joy about her all the time, which made quite an impact on me even after all these years.
“I dreamed about her one night, and in the dream she kept saying over and over to me, 'Sing happy things.' So I just stole it from her and put it in a song.” The song, “Sing, Theresa Says,” is the opening track on Laswell's major-label debut “Through Toledo.” Backed by cascading guitar riffs and Laswell's world-weary vocals, the chorus contemplates balancing life's tough times with the hope of simply singing a happy song.
Rewind 13 years.
Born in Long Beach, like Theresa, Laswell journeyed to San Diego in 1993 to attend Point Loma Nazarene University. After earning a degree in communications, the musician kicked around with a few bands before landing in Shillglen. When the group couldn't afford to buy pricey studio time, Laswell began to learn the art of home-studio recording.
His home recording led to his first solo disc, “Good Movie,” which won a 2004 San Diego Music Award for Best Local Recording, and jobs producing and recording local artists like Anya Marina, Molly Jensen and the Derren Raser Band.
His collaboration with Marina (also a DJ on FM 94.9 as well as a fine songwriter in her own right) pushed Laswell to expand his horizons and explore a record deal.
“We had this informal workshop we started, and each time she came over, I would show her another song,” said Laswell. “She really started to push me. I'm not very ambitious for the sake of being ambitious. I need someone to prod me a bit. I was very lucky in this process – friends and family – that were pushing me to see how far this could go.”
Pushing and prodding led Laswell to a deal with Vanguard Records, along with a publishing deal with Sony. And it led to the release of “Through Toledo” and the beautiful single “Sing Theresa Says.”
Singing happy things soon turned into a tall task and a tough order. Laswell wrote “Through Toledo” in the midst of a tangled divorce. Gradually, Theresa's plea to sing happy things took on deeper meaning, giving the entire album an inner tension and turmoil that drives the album's 11 tracks.
“It's basically a breakup album,” said Laswell, who performs with a full band Tuesday at the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach. “But the biggest surprise has been when you resurface out of the dark little studio. On this tour, people have been coming up to me and telling me about what they've been going through. It has nothing to do with anything that I originally wrote about. So it's become a full circle, healing thing. I'm just lucky to be in the loop.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
September 7, 2006
'Sing,” Theresa says. “Sing happy things.”
“Theresa is my grandma; she passed away when I was 13,” recalled San Diego singer-songwriter Greg Laswell. “She's the happiest person I think I've ever come into contact with. Her life was really hard, but she had this energy to her. Nothing really got her down. She had this underlying joy about her all the time, which made quite an impact on me even after all these years.
“I dreamed about her one night, and in the dream she kept saying over and over to me, 'Sing happy things.' So I just stole it from her and put it in a song.” The song, “Sing, Theresa Says,” is the opening track on Laswell's major-label debut “Through Toledo.” Backed by cascading guitar riffs and Laswell's world-weary vocals, the chorus contemplates balancing life's tough times with the hope of simply singing a happy song.
Rewind 13 years.
Born in Long Beach, like Theresa, Laswell journeyed to San Diego in 1993 to attend Point Loma Nazarene University. After earning a degree in communications, the musician kicked around with a few bands before landing in Shillglen. When the group couldn't afford to buy pricey studio time, Laswell began to learn the art of home-studio recording.
His home recording led to his first solo disc, “Good Movie,” which won a 2004 San Diego Music Award for Best Local Recording, and jobs producing and recording local artists like Anya Marina, Molly Jensen and the Derren Raser Band.
His collaboration with Marina (also a DJ on FM 94.9 as well as a fine songwriter in her own right) pushed Laswell to expand his horizons and explore a record deal.
“We had this informal workshop we started, and each time she came over, I would show her another song,” said Laswell. “She really started to push me. I'm not very ambitious for the sake of being ambitious. I need someone to prod me a bit. I was very lucky in this process – friends and family – that were pushing me to see how far this could go.”
Pushing and prodding led Laswell to a deal with Vanguard Records, along with a publishing deal with Sony. And it led to the release of “Through Toledo” and the beautiful single “Sing Theresa Says.”
Singing happy things soon turned into a tall task and a tough order. Laswell wrote “Through Toledo” in the midst of a tangled divorce. Gradually, Theresa's plea to sing happy things took on deeper meaning, giving the entire album an inner tension and turmoil that drives the album's 11 tracks.
“It's basically a breakup album,” said Laswell, who performs with a full band Tuesday at the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach. “But the biggest surprise has been when you resurface out of the dark little studio. On this tour, people have been coming up to me and telling me about what they've been going through. It has nothing to do with anything that I originally wrote about. So it's become a full circle, healing thing. I'm just lucky to be in the loop.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Ivan Neville in N&D
How to create an 'awesome band'
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
September 7, 2006
Ivan Neville currently lives in Austin, Texas, but his home will always be in the Big Easy. Hailing from the talented Neville family, Ivan and his kin are synonymous with the rich musical heritage of New Orleans.
The son of Aaron Neville, Ivan grew up surrounded by musicians well-versed in the traditions of the Crescent City. His father's band, the Neville Brothers, practically invented swamp funk and soul. Ivan himself started playing with the legendary brothers as a teenager.
“I grew up with music all around me,” said the 34-year-old keyboard player and vocalist from New Orleans, where his band Dumpstaphunk is recording a new album. “All my family was pretty into music, so it was pretty cool. I watched them do their thing for a long time. When you watch somebody that close, you see the mistakes they make. You learn from their trial and error. That's who I am. That's where I'm from.”
After receiving tutelage in the Neville Brothers, Ivan served as a journeyman musician with Bonnie Raitt's band, Rufus, Keith Richards & the Xpensive Winos (check out the excellent “Talk Is Cheap”) and the Spin Doctors.
But a last-minute call to perform at the classic New Orleans Jazz Fest led Ivan to form his own band, Dumpstaphunk.
“We came together about three years ago,” said Neville. “I got the opportunity to play Jazz Fest. So I put together this band, and it turned out to be Dumpstaphunk. We won the Best Funk Band in New Orleans at the Big Easy Awards, and we had only played like nine gigs. Everybody involved in this band loves doing this. So we figured we should find more time to devote to the Dumpstaphunk thing, because it's an awesome band.”
In New Orleans, most musicians moonlight in many different gigs. It's tradition. Along with Ivan's busy schedule, the band's other members also keep a busy calendar. Bassist Nick Daniels (Neville Brothers, Etta James), drummer Raymond Webber (Trey Anastasio, Joe Sample), bassist Tony Hall (Trey Anastasio, Dave Matthews) and Art Neville's son Ian on guitar (Funky Meters, Neville Brothers) have to scramble for time to devote to Dumpstaphunk.
But the Neville family torch has been passed to Dumpsta-phunk, and these guys have big shoes to fill.
“It's a natural evolution of family and music,” said Ivan. “We're just getting started with this band. We just got the torch in our hands. So we're ready to grab the torch and run with it a little while ourselves.”
With the most devastating natural disaster in American history ($30 billion in damage) just a year in the rearview mirror, Ivan is still feeling the pain of Hurricane Katrina.
“It's a year after the storm, and there's still a lot of work to be done,” said Ivan. “A lot of people are making a huge deal about the one-year anniversary. But really it's kind of sad, because a year later some of the same (stuff) is going on that was going on three months after the storm. A lot of people are still without homes. You have probably a third of the population here (in Austin), and a lot of people are not coming back.”
But Ivan and Dumpstaphunk are on a crusade to bring good times New Orleans funk to the world: “All we can do as musicians is write songs, play a little music and try to keep the spirit alive.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
September 7, 2006
Ivan Neville currently lives in Austin, Texas, but his home will always be in the Big Easy. Hailing from the talented Neville family, Ivan and his kin are synonymous with the rich musical heritage of New Orleans.
The son of Aaron Neville, Ivan grew up surrounded by musicians well-versed in the traditions of the Crescent City. His father's band, the Neville Brothers, practically invented swamp funk and soul. Ivan himself started playing with the legendary brothers as a teenager.
“I grew up with music all around me,” said the 34-year-old keyboard player and vocalist from New Orleans, where his band Dumpstaphunk is recording a new album. “All my family was pretty into music, so it was pretty cool. I watched them do their thing for a long time. When you watch somebody that close, you see the mistakes they make. You learn from their trial and error. That's who I am. That's where I'm from.”
After receiving tutelage in the Neville Brothers, Ivan served as a journeyman musician with Bonnie Raitt's band, Rufus, Keith Richards & the Xpensive Winos (check out the excellent “Talk Is Cheap”) and the Spin Doctors.
But a last-minute call to perform at the classic New Orleans Jazz Fest led Ivan to form his own band, Dumpstaphunk.
“We came together about three years ago,” said Neville. “I got the opportunity to play Jazz Fest. So I put together this band, and it turned out to be Dumpstaphunk. We won the Best Funk Band in New Orleans at the Big Easy Awards, and we had only played like nine gigs. Everybody involved in this band loves doing this. So we figured we should find more time to devote to the Dumpstaphunk thing, because it's an awesome band.”
In New Orleans, most musicians moonlight in many different gigs. It's tradition. Along with Ivan's busy schedule, the band's other members also keep a busy calendar. Bassist Nick Daniels (Neville Brothers, Etta James), drummer Raymond Webber (Trey Anastasio, Joe Sample), bassist Tony Hall (Trey Anastasio, Dave Matthews) and Art Neville's son Ian on guitar (Funky Meters, Neville Brothers) have to scramble for time to devote to Dumpstaphunk.
But the Neville family torch has been passed to Dumpsta-phunk, and these guys have big shoes to fill.
“It's a natural evolution of family and music,” said Ivan. “We're just getting started with this band. We just got the torch in our hands. So we're ready to grab the torch and run with it a little while ourselves.”
With the most devastating natural disaster in American history ($30 billion in damage) just a year in the rearview mirror, Ivan is still feeling the pain of Hurricane Katrina.
“It's a year after the storm, and there's still a lot of work to be done,” said Ivan. “A lot of people are making a huge deal about the one-year anniversary. But really it's kind of sad, because a year later some of the same (stuff) is going on that was going on three months after the storm. A lot of people are still without homes. You have probably a third of the population here (in Austin), and a lot of people are not coming back.”
But Ivan and Dumpstaphunk are on a crusade to bring good times New Orleans funk to the world: “All we can do as musicians is write songs, play a little music and try to keep the spirit alive.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Mastering the art of quiet music
Jose Gonzalez substitutes songs for science
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
August 24, 2006
Before 2003, Jose Gonzalez focused his attention on scholastic endeavors, content to study microorganisms and the building blocks of life. After 2003 and the release of his debut, full-length album “Veneer,” in his homeland of Sweden, the 26-year-old singer-songwriter now tours the world spreading the gospel of his meditative style of acoustic music.
“It was a really big change when I released the album,” said Gonzalez from his hotel room in London, where he's currently on tour with Zero 7. “I went from studying biochemistry to just doing shows and living from the music.”
Going from biochemist to musician isn't a huge stretch, considering Gonzalez's thoughtful songwriting.
“I was really into being a biochemist,” recalled Gonzalez. “When I started doing music in my teenage years, I had hopes of living as a musician, and I saw that as my future. But then I got into studying, and I always had music as a hobby. I went out on really small tours with different bands, but never thinking that would be my main thing. It seemed like I had forgotten that I really wanted to do music once upon a time.”
With his simple, tranquil songs, Gonzalez is quietly rejuvenating the art of quiet music. His parents fled their native Argentina, settling in Sweden and giving birth to Jose in 1978. Gonzalez's father instilled in his son his love of bossa nova and flamenco music. Jose integrated the nylon string guitar into his music, at times flashing complex jazz chords (bossa nova) and other times emphasizing the instrument's natural percussive qualities (flamenco).
With his Argentine heritage and Swedish background, Gonzalez speaks both Spanish and Swedish fluently. Instead of singing in his comfort zone, the young musician decided he would sing in English, his third language.
“In a way, it's really common for Swedish bands to (sing in English),” said Gonzalez, in his not-quite-Swedish, not-quite-Latino accent. “Most of the bands we hear on the radio are English. I think if I had to choose another language to sing in, I would choose Spanish over Swedish just because of the sound of it.”
Gonzalez released “Veneer” in Sweden (2003), and later throughout Europe (2005), gaining critical acclaim and popularity. The album wasn't released in the U.S. until 2005, but it has reached larger audiences through exposure on “The O.C.” and other taste-making outlets.
“I was taken by surprise about how well-received it was,” he said. “As soon as I put out the album, I got a lot of airplay on radio and television.”
His success with “Veneer” led Gonzalez to Sam Hardaker and Henry Binns, otherwise known as the British soulful down-tempo duo Zero 7. The acoustic guitar player and singer performed on four songs on Hardaker and Binn's latest release “The Garden,” including a cover of Gonzalez's song “Crosses,” which first appeared on “Veneer.”
“(Zero 7) contacted me, and they played a little bit of their new material,” said Gonzalez, who plays a show with the duo at the House of Blues Saturday and then returns solo for an Oct. 4 show at the Casbah in Middletown. “I really liked them as people, and I thought they had cool ideas. I thought it was interesting to jump into something completely different and see how other people work.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Hear sound clips from Jose Gonzalez's album “Veneer” by logging on to http://entertainment.signonsandiego.com/profile/288996.
By Chris Nixon
For The San Diego Union-Tribune
August 24, 2006
Before 2003, Jose Gonzalez focused his attention on scholastic endeavors, content to study microorganisms and the building blocks of life. After 2003 and the release of his debut, full-length album “Veneer,” in his homeland of Sweden, the 26-year-old singer-songwriter now tours the world spreading the gospel of his meditative style of acoustic music.
“It was a really big change when I released the album,” said Gonzalez from his hotel room in London, where he's currently on tour with Zero 7. “I went from studying biochemistry to just doing shows and living from the music.”
Going from biochemist to musician isn't a huge stretch, considering Gonzalez's thoughtful songwriting.
“I was really into being a biochemist,” recalled Gonzalez. “When I started doing music in my teenage years, I had hopes of living as a musician, and I saw that as my future. But then I got into studying, and I always had music as a hobby. I went out on really small tours with different bands, but never thinking that would be my main thing. It seemed like I had forgotten that I really wanted to do music once upon a time.”
With his simple, tranquil songs, Gonzalez is quietly rejuvenating the art of quiet music. His parents fled their native Argentina, settling in Sweden and giving birth to Jose in 1978. Gonzalez's father instilled in his son his love of bossa nova and flamenco music. Jose integrated the nylon string guitar into his music, at times flashing complex jazz chords (bossa nova) and other times emphasizing the instrument's natural percussive qualities (flamenco).
With his Argentine heritage and Swedish background, Gonzalez speaks both Spanish and Swedish fluently. Instead of singing in his comfort zone, the young musician decided he would sing in English, his third language.
“In a way, it's really common for Swedish bands to (sing in English),” said Gonzalez, in his not-quite-Swedish, not-quite-Latino accent. “Most of the bands we hear on the radio are English. I think if I had to choose another language to sing in, I would choose Spanish over Swedish just because of the sound of it.”
Gonzalez released “Veneer” in Sweden (2003), and later throughout Europe (2005), gaining critical acclaim and popularity. The album wasn't released in the U.S. until 2005, but it has reached larger audiences through exposure on “The O.C.” and other taste-making outlets.
“I was taken by surprise about how well-received it was,” he said. “As soon as I put out the album, I got a lot of airplay on radio and television.”
His success with “Veneer” led Gonzalez to Sam Hardaker and Henry Binns, otherwise known as the British soulful down-tempo duo Zero 7. The acoustic guitar player and singer performed on four songs on Hardaker and Binn's latest release “The Garden,” including a cover of Gonzalez's song “Crosses,” which first appeared on “Veneer.”
“(Zero 7) contacted me, and they played a little bit of their new material,” said Gonzalez, who plays a show with the duo at the House of Blues Saturday and then returns solo for an Oct. 4 show at the Casbah in Middletown. “I really liked them as people, and I thought they had cool ideas. I thought it was interesting to jump into something completely different and see how other people work.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Hear sound clips from Jose Gonzalez's album “Veneer” by logging on to http://entertainment.signonsandiego.com/profile/288996.
The Soft Lightes emerge from ashes of Incredible Moses Leroy
Something ventured: Fountenberry sets off on new path
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
August 24, 2006
You are soft and cuddly / You are warm and fuzzy, sang San Diegan Ron Fountenberry with his former band, The Incredible Moses Leroy, on the band's first single, “Fuzzy.” Sweet strings hovered above a sampled female chorus of la-la-la's as Fountenberry crooned a simple pop tune about sweet love with a touch of irony (Let's paint the town red, like Carrie).
“There's a certain element that people really liked on the first Moses Leroy record,” recalled Fountenberry. “It was probably the bubbly poppy-ness. But I felt like – because of the circumstances involved in making that record – it was a little too saccharine.”
Fountenberry's first album, “Electric Pocket Radio,” earned him spots on a national Gap ad along with numerous shout-outs and instant credibility near and far. But the cuddly fuzziness turned out to be too cute for Fountenberry. He and his former mates shifted gears with the outfit's second disc, “Becomes The Soft.Lightes,” which turned out to be more prophesy than poetry.
Fountenberry decided to take a slightly more contemplative path for his second Incredible Moses Leroy album, produced by crack drummer Joey Waronker (R.E.M., Beck). (The band was named for Fountenberry's grandfather, but most people mistook him for Mr. Leroy.)
The singer could sense his label's displeasure with the new direction, and he tired of being mistaken for Moses Leroy himself. He started planning his next incarnation: The Soft.Lightes.
So now a couple of years later, Incredible Moses Leroy remains another local band fading from memory, the Gap ads have long since stopped running and mention of Fountenberry often prompts a quizzical “where-is-he-now?” look on people's faces.
But this local musician never stopped writing his appealing indie pop music.
“When people decide you're not 'hot' anymore – or whatever the term is in the music industry – it's really hard to get people's attention,” said Founten-berry. “You'll see it with local bands. They'll get a bunch of attention. But if nothing actually happens, people start associating that name with the fact that they never got signed or whatever. I just felt like we were going down a path that wasn't really positive.”
Fountenberry looks to jump back into the music scene spotlight – locally and nationally – with his new cast of characters called The Soft.Lightes. Along with Moses Leroy veteran bassist Christian Dunn, Fountenberry is joined by drummer Tom Fogerty and keyboardist Jeff Hibshman. The quartet recorded a full-length album last year, which is set for release in early 2007 on Modular Recordings.
Despite the indie cred of his label (Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, Wolfmother, The Black Keys), Fountenberry made the record on the cheap.
“Eighty percent of it was done in my apartment, and the other 20 percent at our bass player's house in his garage, for drums and stuff,” said Fountenberry, who will also release an E.P. in October. “It was pretty low budget. It wasn't the prettiest surroundings: I literally did my vocals in my wife's closet. It wasn't the most glamorous situation, but we made it work.”
The songs on The Soft.Lightes myspace page sound like vintage Moses Leroy, combining elements of “Electric Pocket Radio's” saccharine sweetness and “Becomes The Soft.Lightes” more introspective sound.
“I really like where we are musically,” said Fountenberry, who takes the stage at The Casbah tonight with The Soft.Lightes. “And I like the prospects for the future in terms of our possibilities with these people. We have a lot more places we can go now.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
August 24, 2006
You are soft and cuddly / You are warm and fuzzy, sang San Diegan Ron Fountenberry with his former band, The Incredible Moses Leroy, on the band's first single, “Fuzzy.” Sweet strings hovered above a sampled female chorus of la-la-la's as Fountenberry crooned a simple pop tune about sweet love with a touch of irony (Let's paint the town red, like Carrie).
“There's a certain element that people really liked on the first Moses Leroy record,” recalled Fountenberry. “It was probably the bubbly poppy-ness. But I felt like – because of the circumstances involved in making that record – it was a little too saccharine.”
Fountenberry's first album, “Electric Pocket Radio,” earned him spots on a national Gap ad along with numerous shout-outs and instant credibility near and far. But the cuddly fuzziness turned out to be too cute for Fountenberry. He and his former mates shifted gears with the outfit's second disc, “Becomes The Soft.Lightes,” which turned out to be more prophesy than poetry.
Fountenberry decided to take a slightly more contemplative path for his second Incredible Moses Leroy album, produced by crack drummer Joey Waronker (R.E.M., Beck). (The band was named for Fountenberry's grandfather, but most people mistook him for Mr. Leroy.)
The singer could sense his label's displeasure with the new direction, and he tired of being mistaken for Moses Leroy himself. He started planning his next incarnation: The Soft.Lightes.
So now a couple of years later, Incredible Moses Leroy remains another local band fading from memory, the Gap ads have long since stopped running and mention of Fountenberry often prompts a quizzical “where-is-he-now?” look on people's faces.
But this local musician never stopped writing his appealing indie pop music.
“When people decide you're not 'hot' anymore – or whatever the term is in the music industry – it's really hard to get people's attention,” said Founten-berry. “You'll see it with local bands. They'll get a bunch of attention. But if nothing actually happens, people start associating that name with the fact that they never got signed or whatever. I just felt like we were going down a path that wasn't really positive.”
Fountenberry looks to jump back into the music scene spotlight – locally and nationally – with his new cast of characters called The Soft.Lightes. Along with Moses Leroy veteran bassist Christian Dunn, Fountenberry is joined by drummer Tom Fogerty and keyboardist Jeff Hibshman. The quartet recorded a full-length album last year, which is set for release in early 2007 on Modular Recordings.
Despite the indie cred of his label (Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, Wolfmother, The Black Keys), Fountenberry made the record on the cheap.
“Eighty percent of it was done in my apartment, and the other 20 percent at our bass player's house in his garage, for drums and stuff,” said Fountenberry, who will also release an E.P. in October. “It was pretty low budget. It wasn't the prettiest surroundings: I literally did my vocals in my wife's closet. It wasn't the most glamorous situation, but we made it work.”
The songs on The Soft.Lightes myspace page sound like vintage Moses Leroy, combining elements of “Electric Pocket Radio's” saccharine sweetness and “Becomes The Soft.Lightes” more introspective sound.
“I really like where we are musically,” said Fountenberry, who takes the stage at The Casbah tonight with The Soft.Lightes. “And I like the prospects for the future in terms of our possibilities with these people. We have a lot more places we can go now.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Harper revisits childhood by teaming with Marley
To Ben Harper, a second disc is his answer
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
August 10, 2006
It's 1978, and a 9-year-old nappy-headed Ben Harper gazes up at reggae legend Bob Marley. Harper is checking out his first concert with his dad, Leonard, and the moment has helped to shape the musician's career to this day.
“(The show) was the first time that the mystery of the needle on the record came to life for me,” said Harper during a recent phone conversation backstage at the “Jay Leno Show.” “It was a huge moment for me. It wasn't like I saw the show and said this is what I'm going to do for the rest of my life. It was a source of musical inspiration and it definitely planted the seed.”
Now, 28 years later, the master slide guitarist and soulful songwriter is touring in support of his current release, “Both Sides of the Gun.” Harper's music balances the hope for social change with the personal struggles of people finding their place in the world, a tightrope that also makes Bob Marley's music timeless. In a strange twist, Harper will share the stage with Marley's son Damian – aka “Jr. Gong” – in a tour that stops at the Embarcadero downtown Sunday.
“Whenever I see Damian, I see his dad,” said Harper. “And it reminds me of watching Bob on stage for 2 1/2 hours that night. It is a full-circle moment, and I don't say that lightly. I've been a fan of Damian's music for a long time, and all the Marley brothers: Ky-Mani, Damian, Stephen, Ziggy. They're all extremely talented. The brothers are certainly their father's children, without a doubt.”
Much like Marley, Harper is able to channel the emotional pain caused by political situations he sees as wrong. “Black Rain,” a track from his latest album, talks about the injustices spawned from Hurricane Katrina and the suffering of the people of New Orleans in a visceral way. But in writing songs such as “Black Rain” in the studio, Harper found he'd written a couple of albums worth of tunes.
“ 'Black Rain' was written in the studio in response to the lack of response from this current administration in New Orleans,” said Harper. “I started with too many songs, and ended up with way too many songs.”
So from the opening finger-picked acoustic song “Morning Yearning” to the soaring “Serve Your Soul,” Harper decided to make two discs in his current project: one soft acoustic and inviting, the other more aggressive and electric. The result is a brilliant use of CD technology, a medium musicians rarely engage in any artistic fashion. In other words, just because you have the space to fit all 18 songs on one CD doesn't mean you should.
“It was a creative choice to split them up,” said Harper, exposing the process behind his decision. “Songs like 'Morning Yearning' – “A finger's touch upon my lips / it's a morning yearning” – and “Black Rain – “You left them swimming for their lives down in New Orleans” – weren't going to be on the same record. But at the same time, they both complete my life experience at the time creatively. I feel without each record it's an incomplete body of work.
“So I had to find a way to not have them on the same disc, but still have them in the same body of work,” said Harper. “That's how the double record came in. Both Virgin and I took a pay cut to put it out for the price of a single record.”
Besides his brush with the Marley family, another experience shaping Harper's life these days is his relationship with Laura Dern, whom he married on Dec. 23, 2005.
“I am greatly influenced by all my relationships, but none as much as the relationship closest to me, that being my wife,” said Harper. “She is an incredible inspiration. One thing I've learned: Love doesn't know if you're a celebrity or not. Love is the great equalizer.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
By Chris Nixon
For the San Diego Union-Tribune
August 10, 2006
It's 1978, and a 9-year-old nappy-headed Ben Harper gazes up at reggae legend Bob Marley. Harper is checking out his first concert with his dad, Leonard, and the moment has helped to shape the musician's career to this day.
“(The show) was the first time that the mystery of the needle on the record came to life for me,” said Harper during a recent phone conversation backstage at the “Jay Leno Show.” “It was a huge moment for me. It wasn't like I saw the show and said this is what I'm going to do for the rest of my life. It was a source of musical inspiration and it definitely planted the seed.”
Now, 28 years later, the master slide guitarist and soulful songwriter is touring in support of his current release, “Both Sides of the Gun.” Harper's music balances the hope for social change with the personal struggles of people finding their place in the world, a tightrope that also makes Bob Marley's music timeless. In a strange twist, Harper will share the stage with Marley's son Damian – aka “Jr. Gong” – in a tour that stops at the Embarcadero downtown Sunday.
“Whenever I see Damian, I see his dad,” said Harper. “And it reminds me of watching Bob on stage for 2 1/2 hours that night. It is a full-circle moment, and I don't say that lightly. I've been a fan of Damian's music for a long time, and all the Marley brothers: Ky-Mani, Damian, Stephen, Ziggy. They're all extremely talented. The brothers are certainly their father's children, without a doubt.”
Much like Marley, Harper is able to channel the emotional pain caused by political situations he sees as wrong. “Black Rain,” a track from his latest album, talks about the injustices spawned from Hurricane Katrina and the suffering of the people of New Orleans in a visceral way. But in writing songs such as “Black Rain” in the studio, Harper found he'd written a couple of albums worth of tunes.
“ 'Black Rain' was written in the studio in response to the lack of response from this current administration in New Orleans,” said Harper. “I started with too many songs, and ended up with way too many songs.”
So from the opening finger-picked acoustic song “Morning Yearning” to the soaring “Serve Your Soul,” Harper decided to make two discs in his current project: one soft acoustic and inviting, the other more aggressive and electric. The result is a brilliant use of CD technology, a medium musicians rarely engage in any artistic fashion. In other words, just because you have the space to fit all 18 songs on one CD doesn't mean you should.
“It was a creative choice to split them up,” said Harper, exposing the process behind his decision. “Songs like 'Morning Yearning' – “A finger's touch upon my lips / it's a morning yearning” – and “Black Rain – “You left them swimming for their lives down in New Orleans” – weren't going to be on the same record. But at the same time, they both complete my life experience at the time creatively. I feel without each record it's an incomplete body of work.
“So I had to find a way to not have them on the same disc, but still have them in the same body of work,” said Harper. “That's how the double record came in. Both Virgin and I took a pay cut to put it out for the price of a single record.”
Besides his brush with the Marley family, another experience shaping Harper's life these days is his relationship with Laura Dern, whom he married on Dec. 23, 2005.
“I am greatly influenced by all my relationships, but none as much as the relationship closest to me, that being my wife,” said Harper. “She is an incredible inspiration. One thing I've learned: Love doesn't know if you're a celebrity or not. Love is the great equalizer.”
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
San Diego's Street Scene: A whole lot of music
The festival is warming up to its new location, and returning to its roots.
By CHRIS NIXON
Special to the Register
Friday, Aug. 4, 2006
Cue the eerie carnival music, the drag queens and the burlesque girls. A year after making the move from its traditional downtown spot to the wide-open spaces of Mission Valley, San Diego's Street Scene music festival returns this year with more diversity, more stages and a fresh perspective on booking bands and performance artists.
Headliners such as Tool, Snoop Dogg, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Kanye West will perform alongside artists like the Lollipop Girls Burlesque, the Amazing Yard Dogs Road Show (oddball circus freaks) and Babette Schwartz's drag show today and Saturday at Qualcomm Stadium in San Diego. Organizer and festival originator Rob Hagey decided to incorporate a few more world music and performance artists, formerly a staple of earlier Street Scenes.
"I think it's important to bring back some of the traditions we've had in the past," Hagey said recently from his office in La Jolla, as he and his crew prepared for the festival's 23rd year. "Thomas Mapfumo's music is total groove music. His music isn't going to alienate anybody. It's happy music and very much part of what we're trying to do with the festival. I think it's a wonderful way to introduce our younger audience to this great music."
Since its start in 1984, Street Scene has developed from a two-stage festival in a shady part of downtown to one of the premier music events in Southern California. By 2003, the festival had swelled to three days, drawing more than 100,000 people to its increasingly crowded downtown neighborhood.
"In 2003, we were over 100 bands on nine stages over three days," Hagey recalled. "Now we're two days and six stages. But the talent has gone dramatically up in cost. We've put more of a premium on booking bigger acts. With that, the production gets bigger and the price gets more expensive."
With downtown San Diego's growth over the past five years, Hagey and his festival were getting squeezed out by high-rise condo construction and the vestiges of the area's working-class companies. Said Hagey: "We were growing, and the Gaslamp and East Village were growing. There just wasn't any more space. There was not another place for us to go downtown."
So in 2005 Street Scene moved a few miles north to Mission Valley, specifically the parking lot of Qualcomm Stadium. On any given Sunday during football season, Chargers fans barbecue their brats in the stadium's parking area. For Hagey, the space and time the venue afforded could not be matched if the festival wanted to stay in urban San Diego.
"We would have never had the time to set up this kind of scale and scope and production in any kind of configuration downtown," theorized Hagey, 55. "So not only are we gaining the space, but we're gaining the time to create and produce this event. And that's critical, because the event's scale and production have grown exponentially with the move."
Street Scene experienced its height of popularity in terms of ticket sales in 2004, when 105,000 music fans turned out to the festival's final year downtown. Last year attendance dipped to 75,000, suffering from public perception that the parking lot location would be hot and uncomfortable. While Street Scene doesn't offer green grassy fields like many of the other major music festivals throughout the country, it does offer convenience.
"In our opinion, it's right up there with Coachella and Bonnaroo and Austin City Limits," Hagey said. "It's really a question of people's perception of how a festival should be. One's in a field outside Austin, in a park away from the city. Bonnaroo is in a field between Knoxville and Nashville in Tennessee, basically in the middle of nowhere. And Coachella is in the middle of a very plush polo grounds in Indio.
"We're in the parking area of Qualcomm in San Diego, but we can take advantage of that," Hagey continued. "We have a trolley service that drops people within feet of the event. You don't get that in any of those other festivals. It's more of a party atmosphere, with the lighting and the bars and the urban vibe of the event."
Tool, the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs and Kanye West all put on great shows. But if you're headed to Street Scene, you probably already know about those bands. Here's a few non-headliners not to be missed.
Today
Thomas Mapfumo
6 p.m., Fulano Stage
Affectionately dubbed by his countrymen the "Lion of Zimbabwe," Thomas Mapfumo, 61, continues to churn out his style of African "chimurenga" music. Despite failed revolutions and imprisonment in his home country, the Lion doesn't sleep on championing civil liberties while creating a party vibe at his live shows.
Wolfmother
7:30 p.m., Time Warner Stage
With a simple jagged scream in the opening seconds of his band's debut disc, lead singer Andrew Stockdale tells the world that his band Wolfmother has arrived, and they are ready to revive unmitigated rock 'n' roll. Channeling '70s muscle-car rock, the pre-punk angst of MC5 and Steppenwolf's hard-edged psychedelia, this Aussie trio rocked Coachella earlier this year and will most likely have its way with the Street Scene crowd.
Wu-Tang Clan
9:05 p.m., Zarabanda Stage
After Ol' Dirty Bastard's death in 2004 and Method Man's ill-fated acting career, Wu-Tang fans might gaze suspiciously at the current reunion. But the collective's 1993 debut "Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)" remains a classic, complete with Shoalin warrior references and tough East Coast-style rhymes. RZA, GZA and the rest of Wu-Tang still pack a punch.
Saturday
Margot and the Nuclear So and So's
3:30 p.m., Zarabanda Stage
What's in the water north of the border these days? Apparently, the Quebecois have found the secret elixir for creating infectious pop music. Canada – specifically Montreal – has become the next hotbed for indie rock: Arcade Fire, Broken Social Scene, Feist, Metric and now Margot and the Nuclear So and So's. Richard Edward's sincere vocals and richly textured compositions from the nine-piece outfit form the backbone of band's debut 2006 disc "The Dust of Retreat."
Ska Cubano
6:30 p.m., Fulano Stage
Joyfully joining Cuban son, mambo and Jamaican ska, singers Natty Bo (a London-based ska musician) and Beny Billy (a Cuban crooner) form the skipping brassy beats of Ska Cubano. The band's sound – packed with steamy summer dance tracks and classic Caribbean rhythms – should connect with Street Scene's party vibe.
The Shins
7:30 p.m., Time Warner Stage
James 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 their credit. Mercer – along with drummer Jesse Sandoval, bassist Neal Langford and keyboard player Marty Crandall – are currently working on the follow-up album to 2004's seminal "Chutes Too Narrow."
By CHRIS NIXON
Special to the Register
Friday, Aug. 4, 2006
Cue the eerie carnival music, the drag queens and the burlesque girls. A year after making the move from its traditional downtown spot to the wide-open spaces of Mission Valley, San Diego's Street Scene music festival returns this year with more diversity, more stages and a fresh perspective on booking bands and performance artists.
Headliners such as Tool, Snoop Dogg, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Kanye West will perform alongside artists like the Lollipop Girls Burlesque, the Amazing Yard Dogs Road Show (oddball circus freaks) and Babette Schwartz's drag show today and Saturday at Qualcomm Stadium in San Diego. Organizer and festival originator Rob Hagey decided to incorporate a few more world music and performance artists, formerly a staple of earlier Street Scenes.
"I think it's important to bring back some of the traditions we've had in the past," Hagey said recently from his office in La Jolla, as he and his crew prepared for the festival's 23rd year. "Thomas Mapfumo's music is total groove music. His music isn't going to alienate anybody. It's happy music and very much part of what we're trying to do with the festival. I think it's a wonderful way to introduce our younger audience to this great music."
Since its start in 1984, Street Scene has developed from a two-stage festival in a shady part of downtown to one of the premier music events in Southern California. By 2003, the festival had swelled to three days, drawing more than 100,000 people to its increasingly crowded downtown neighborhood.
"In 2003, we were over 100 bands on nine stages over three days," Hagey recalled. "Now we're two days and six stages. But the talent has gone dramatically up in cost. We've put more of a premium on booking bigger acts. With that, the production gets bigger and the price gets more expensive."
With downtown San Diego's growth over the past five years, Hagey and his festival were getting squeezed out by high-rise condo construction and the vestiges of the area's working-class companies. Said Hagey: "We were growing, and the Gaslamp and East Village were growing. There just wasn't any more space. There was not another place for us to go downtown."
So in 2005 Street Scene moved a few miles north to Mission Valley, specifically the parking lot of Qualcomm Stadium. On any given Sunday during football season, Chargers fans barbecue their brats in the stadium's parking area. For Hagey, the space and time the venue afforded could not be matched if the festival wanted to stay in urban San Diego.
"We would have never had the time to set up this kind of scale and scope and production in any kind of configuration downtown," theorized Hagey, 55. "So not only are we gaining the space, but we're gaining the time to create and produce this event. And that's critical, because the event's scale and production have grown exponentially with the move."
Street Scene experienced its height of popularity in terms of ticket sales in 2004, when 105,000 music fans turned out to the festival's final year downtown. Last year attendance dipped to 75,000, suffering from public perception that the parking lot location would be hot and uncomfortable. While Street Scene doesn't offer green grassy fields like many of the other major music festivals throughout the country, it does offer convenience.
"In our opinion, it's right up there with Coachella and Bonnaroo and Austin City Limits," Hagey said. "It's really a question of people's perception of how a festival should be. One's in a field outside Austin, in a park away from the city. Bonnaroo is in a field between Knoxville and Nashville in Tennessee, basically in the middle of nowhere. And Coachella is in the middle of a very plush polo grounds in Indio.
"We're in the parking area of Qualcomm in San Diego, but we can take advantage of that," Hagey continued. "We have a trolley service that drops people within feet of the event. You don't get that in any of those other festivals. It's more of a party atmosphere, with the lighting and the bars and the urban vibe of the event."
Tool, the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs and Kanye West all put on great shows. But if you're headed to Street Scene, you probably already know about those bands. Here's a few non-headliners not to be missed.
Today
Thomas Mapfumo
6 p.m., Fulano Stage
Affectionately dubbed by his countrymen the "Lion of Zimbabwe," Thomas Mapfumo, 61, continues to churn out his style of African "chimurenga" music. Despite failed revolutions and imprisonment in his home country, the Lion doesn't sleep on championing civil liberties while creating a party vibe at his live shows.
Wolfmother
7:30 p.m., Time Warner Stage
With a simple jagged scream in the opening seconds of his band's debut disc, lead singer Andrew Stockdale tells the world that his band Wolfmother has arrived, and they are ready to revive unmitigated rock 'n' roll. Channeling '70s muscle-car rock, the pre-punk angst of MC5 and Steppenwolf's hard-edged psychedelia, this Aussie trio rocked Coachella earlier this year and will most likely have its way with the Street Scene crowd.
Wu-Tang Clan
9:05 p.m., Zarabanda Stage
After Ol' Dirty Bastard's death in 2004 and Method Man's ill-fated acting career, Wu-Tang fans might gaze suspiciously at the current reunion. But the collective's 1993 debut "Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers)" remains a classic, complete with Shoalin warrior references and tough East Coast-style rhymes. RZA, GZA and the rest of Wu-Tang still pack a punch.
Saturday
Margot and the Nuclear So and So's
3:30 p.m., Zarabanda Stage
What's in the water north of the border these days? Apparently, the Quebecois have found the secret elixir for creating infectious pop music. Canada – specifically Montreal – has become the next hotbed for indie rock: Arcade Fire, Broken Social Scene, Feist, Metric and now Margot and the Nuclear So and So's. Richard Edward's sincere vocals and richly textured compositions from the nine-piece outfit form the backbone of band's debut 2006 disc "The Dust of Retreat."
Ska Cubano
6:30 p.m., Fulano Stage
Joyfully joining Cuban son, mambo and Jamaican ska, singers Natty Bo (a London-based ska musician) and Beny Billy (a Cuban crooner) form the skipping brassy beats of Ska Cubano. The band's sound – packed with steamy summer dance tracks and classic Caribbean rhythms – should connect with Street Scene's party vibe.
The Shins
7:30 p.m., Time Warner Stage
James 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 their credit. Mercer – along with drummer Jesse Sandoval, bassist Neal Langford and keyboard player Marty Crandall – are currently working on the follow-up album to 2004's seminal "Chutes Too Narrow."
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