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.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
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.
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