Talked with James Mercer from the shiny indie-pop quartet about freezing rain, mold in his basement and the pressure to follow the critically acclaimed debut "Oh, Inverted World." Highly respected San Diego critic Chris Nixon calls 2003's "Chutes Too Narrow" "brilliant," so they must have done something right. Here's the article that ran in today's (2/5/04) San Diego Union-Tribune:
MANAGEMENT TRAINING
The Shins' James Mercer is 'sort of the leader of an organization' – he's learning by doing, and doing well
By Chris Nixon
February 5, 2004
On a particularly wintry cold January day from his Portland home, Shins' lead singer-guitarist-songwriter James Mercer contemplates the sheer gorgeous pitfalls and heavenly perils of an ice storm. Having lived his life in England, New Mexico and now Oregon, it's a phenomenon he's never encountered before.
"The trees are just bent over with ice," says the usually soft-spoken, now astounded Mercer. "There are a bunch of power lines down. Literally, you could ice skate down the street. It's really beautiful in a destructive kind of way."
Known for his symphonies of sunshiny pop and happy harmonies, Mercer's talk of gloomy weather might come as a surprise for those merely familiar with his reputation. But the 32-year-old songwriter knows how to mix the sublime with the bittersweet.
Mercer sings in "Young Pilgrim": A cold and wet November dawn / And there are no barking sparrows / Just emptiness to dwell upon / I fell into a winter slide / And ended up the kind of kid who goes down chutes too narrow.
Mercer's occasionally somber, melancholic lyrics, combined with the band's upbeat indie pop melodies, give the Shins a depth rarely seen in bands with only two albums to its credit. But the Shins kicked around the Albuquerque, N.M., music scene for a few years before getting national attention.
Formerly known as Flake, the quartet started playing together in the early 1990s. In 1997, Mercer started a side project known as the Shins. After Flake fell apart, he eventually incorporated his former bandmates to take part in the Shins.
Mercer's situation has changed in the past couple of years, but the singer isn't forced to run away from screaming hordes of adoring fans, yet.
"I don't have the situation where you walk out into the street and people recognize you, says Mercer. "The only thing I miss about the early days of the Shins is that I used to not have any responsibilities.
"Two years ago everything changed. All of a sudden, I was the person who was writing the songs, who was recording the records. One difficult thing now is that I'm sort of the leader of an organization. You have to develop management skills."
Along with drummer Jesse Sandoval, bassist Neal Langford and keyboard player Marty Crandall, Mercer turned the indie rock world upside down with its debut "Oh, Inverted World."
Like a child standing on his hands to see the world differently, Mercer and his mates reinterpreted artful pop. With titles like "Caring Is Creepy," the songwriter proved he knew how to turn a phrase (from "One by One All Day"): Oh, inverted world / If every moment of our lives / Were cradled softly in the hands of some strange and gentle child / I'd not roll my eyes so.
The 2001 release established the Shins at the head of the indie pop class. On 2003's brilliant "Chutes Too Narrow," the band stretches out further to add more sonic diversity.
Packed full of songs with titles like "Kissing the Lipless," "Mine's Not a High Horse," "Pink Bullets" and "Fighting in a Sack," Mercer lives up to the hype churned up by "Oh, Inverted World."
The songwriter reminds us that song lyrics should be poetry (from "Kissing the Lipless"): You tested your metal of doe's skin and petals / While kissing the lipless / Who bleed all the sweetness away.
Currently, the Shins are touring behind "Chutes Too Narrow," which came out in October of last year. The band will play at 'Canes Bar & Grill Sunday.
During his breaks from the road, Mercer is constantly crafting new songs, which brings us back to his home studio in rainy (sometimes icy) Portland.
"I don't really write when I'm on the road, so the whole thing of being on tour all the time is inevitably setting back the release of the next record for us," says Mercer, who hopes to release a new Shins album every year and a half. "Whenever I'm home, I'm working on songs daily. Working on songs, which really means sitting around playing guitar and goofing off. It's my job. That's when the best ideas come out: when you're not thinking about it."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
Thursday, February 05, 2004
Saturday, January 31, 2004
Jazz-funk revivals
The Geyboy Allstars made a triumphant return to San Diego this Friday, Jan. 30, packing 4th & B with a cramped but happy crowd. They played pretty much all of my favs: "Happy Friends," "Tenor Man," etc. It's was good to see Karl Denson onstage twice in one week. Just last week he made a cameo at Maceo Parker's Belly Up Tavern show. I had a chance to talk with Robert Walter last week, covering the past and the future of S.D.'s favorite jazz funksters.
Here's the story that ran in the San Diego Union-Tribune's Night&Day section on Thursday, Jan. 29:
The Greyboy Allstars return, refreshed
By Chris Nixon
January 29, 2004
'I guess I'm going to have to get a job, there ain't one thing on the streets no more," croons Greyboy Allstars singer and sax player Karl Denson, swinging soulfully on "Get a Job" from 1999's "Live."
Packed with jams, the album runs through 10 extended tunes anchored by the rock solid grooves of bassist Chris Stillwell and drummer Zak Najor. Keyboardist Robert Walter imparts melodic tones from his organ and electric piano and Elgin Park (aka Mike Andrews) adds the "ka-chunk-chunk" funk guitar and a few sweet jazzy solos.
"Live" marked the height of the band's powers, showcasing its musical and improvisational prowess. Ironically, the disc also marked the last recorded output from the band, sending the members out into the world to find new jobs.
The Greyboy Allstars went on indefinite hiatus in 1999, a code word for "breakup" in musician speak. In a recent interview, San Diego native Walter simply said: "Everybody got burned (out)."
"We did it for so long and we did it so much: we were playing on the road constantly," continued Walter. "Then, whenever we came to San Diego from the road, we would play locally constantly for five years. I think everyone felt a little trapped in it after a while, because your entire life is all about this one thing. We're all interested in a lot of different styles of music."
The band's five members went their separate ways: Denson and Walter formed their own bands, while Najor and Stillwell jammed with their former bandmates. Elgin Park produced other bands (Metric, Brendon Benson, Jason Mraz) and performed with friend Gary Jules on the Tears for Fears cover "Mad World" for the "Donnie Darko" soundtrack (the single reached No. 1 in the United Kingdom in 2003).
Then a curious thing happened: All the members were hanging out at the Belly Up listening to Karl Denson's Tiny Universe in late 2002, and they decided to play a few tunes together. It had been three years since the band had performed together, but the chemistry still felt right. Walter said: "Everybody was in town, so we all got up and tried to remember what we were doing."
Since that fateful show in Solana Beach, the year 2003 found the Greyboy Allstars reuniting for a few small tours. Now, there is talk of a new album in 2004: "There are a couple of things we've been discussing: One is work on some new tunes. The other is to take the old records and remix/remaster them with some bonus stuff and some enhanced CD stuff."
According to Walter, the band members needed to re-establish their identities away from the group to make the Allstars work.
"It's great to do the projects outside of the group and come back to it," said Walter. "I don't think the Greyboy Allstars would satisfy any of us as the only thing we did. One of the great things about the group is we were all into different styles, but we came together in mutual love for this one type of music. We need to still be coming from different places, or else it's not very interesting."
For Walter personally, the work with his own band, the 20th Congress, has given him musical perspective and a deeper understanding of group dynamics.
"From having to run my own band and really having to think about how I want my own music to sound, it's given me a well-rounded understanding of music," said Walter, who along with the Allstars will take the stage at 4th & B tomorrow.
"Greyboy Allstars in a way is like a safety zone. You can always hide behind the skills of the other players. Doing my own thing and being alone out front taught me a lot. Plus, just playing constantly for all of those years, hopefully you're always learning."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
Here's the story that ran in the San Diego Union-Tribune's Night&Day section on Thursday, Jan. 29:
The Greyboy Allstars return, refreshed
By Chris Nixon
January 29, 2004
'I guess I'm going to have to get a job, there ain't one thing on the streets no more," croons Greyboy Allstars singer and sax player Karl Denson, swinging soulfully on "Get a Job" from 1999's "Live."
Packed with jams, the album runs through 10 extended tunes anchored by the rock solid grooves of bassist Chris Stillwell and drummer Zak Najor. Keyboardist Robert Walter imparts melodic tones from his organ and electric piano and Elgin Park (aka Mike Andrews) adds the "ka-chunk-chunk" funk guitar and a few sweet jazzy solos.
"Live" marked the height of the band's powers, showcasing its musical and improvisational prowess. Ironically, the disc also marked the last recorded output from the band, sending the members out into the world to find new jobs.
The Greyboy Allstars went on indefinite hiatus in 1999, a code word for "breakup" in musician speak. In a recent interview, San Diego native Walter simply said: "Everybody got burned (out)."
"We did it for so long and we did it so much: we were playing on the road constantly," continued Walter. "Then, whenever we came to San Diego from the road, we would play locally constantly for five years. I think everyone felt a little trapped in it after a while, because your entire life is all about this one thing. We're all interested in a lot of different styles of music."
The band's five members went their separate ways: Denson and Walter formed their own bands, while Najor and Stillwell jammed with their former bandmates. Elgin Park produced other bands (Metric, Brendon Benson, Jason Mraz) and performed with friend Gary Jules on the Tears for Fears cover "Mad World" for the "Donnie Darko" soundtrack (the single reached No. 1 in the United Kingdom in 2003).
Then a curious thing happened: All the members were hanging out at the Belly Up listening to Karl Denson's Tiny Universe in late 2002, and they decided to play a few tunes together. It had been three years since the band had performed together, but the chemistry still felt right. Walter said: "Everybody was in town, so we all got up and tried to remember what we were doing."
Since that fateful show in Solana Beach, the year 2003 found the Greyboy Allstars reuniting for a few small tours. Now, there is talk of a new album in 2004: "There are a couple of things we've been discussing: One is work on some new tunes. The other is to take the old records and remix/remaster them with some bonus stuff and some enhanced CD stuff."
According to Walter, the band members needed to re-establish their identities away from the group to make the Allstars work.
"It's great to do the projects outside of the group and come back to it," said Walter. "I don't think the Greyboy Allstars would satisfy any of us as the only thing we did. One of the great things about the group is we were all into different styles, but we came together in mutual love for this one type of music. We need to still be coming from different places, or else it's not very interesting."
For Walter personally, the work with his own band, the 20th Congress, has given him musical perspective and a deeper understanding of group dynamics.
"From having to run my own band and really having to think about how I want my own music to sound, it's given me a well-rounded understanding of music," said Walter, who along with the Allstars will take the stage at 4th & B tomorrow.
"Greyboy Allstars in a way is like a safety zone. You can always hide behind the skills of the other players. Doing my own thing and being alone out front taught me a lot. Plus, just playing constantly for all of those years, hopefully you're always learning."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
... And Brit-rock blokes
Fran Healy, lead singer of Scottish quartet Travis, turns out to be a very nice man. Gracious and geuinely engaged in our conversation, Healy practically begged me to go to Scotland -- especially since it's the homeland of the Nixons: "There's no place like Scotland in the world. It's inspired so many poems and songs through history."
Here's the Travis story that ran in the Union-Tribune's Night&Day section Thursday, Jan. 29:
Travis pulls through to create memories
By Chris Nixon
January 29, 2004
After four years of constant touring behind its 2000 breakthrough album, "The Man Who," and 2001's "The Invisible Band," Scottish quartet Travis desperately needed a break.
The band's popularity had steadily grown since the mid '90s, when Travis joined Oasis as part of an influx of retro Brit-pop bands. But the band felt burned out, suffering from the extreme life of a rock 'n' roll band.
Just when you start to take things for granted, life has a way of playing with your expectations.
During a series of European dates in July 2002, Travis drummer Neil Primrose hit his head while relaxing on vacation. The blow to Primrose's cranium knocked the percussionist out cold, cracking his fifth and sixth vertebrae.
His bandmates (vocalist Fran Healy, guitarist Andy Dunlop and bassist Dougie Payne) actually saved Primrose's life, pulling the unconscious drummer from the water. Most doctors were doubtful about Primrose's chances of walking again. But within six months, he was walking and drumming.
"It's a weird thing, but these things happen for a reason," said a wizened Healy during a recent phone conversation from London. "Millions of people die from things like this every year, and Neal was so, so lucky. It was fortunate he had his friends around and he survived. Just walking would be good enough, but he's playing like nothing ever happened."
During Primrose's recovery, the band retreated to their homeland and recorded. The resulting album, 2003's "12 Memories," emerged from the sessions.
Healy said: "There's no place like Scotland in the world. It's inspired so many poems and song through history."
Trying to sidestep clichés, Healy reflected on the accident's impact on the band and "12 Memories."
"We came back into the music business a completely different band," said the eloquent Healy in his Scottish brogue. "We care about how well things do (in sales and popularity), of course. But it's not as important as it once was. It throws light on everything and prioritizes things in a certain order. The priorities of humans are generally (messed) up until nature comes and punches you in the face. Luckily for us, we pulled through."
Travis more than pulled through in 2003 – it rebounded with possibly its best effort with "12 Memories," a shimmering revelation of beautiful Brit-pop. From the swaying glistening balladry of "How Many Hearts" to the gritty distorted rock guitar of "Happy to Hang Around," the four boys from Glasgow construct a coherent album of reflective, dreamy pop singles.
Travis planned on quirky, top-notch producer Tchad Blake (Soul Coughing, Neil Finn, Latin Playboys, Los Lobos, Pearl Jam), but Primrose's quick rehab found the band recording ahead of schedule – and before Blake arrived.
"We went to Scotland with a really rudimentary setup," said Healy, who along with the rest of Travis produced most of the album on their own. "And eventually, we recorded the whole record before we knew it. So we took the whole record to Tchad, and we recorded three new songs with him: 'Peace ... Out,' 'Somewhere Else' and 'Love Will Come Through.'
"When you listen to those, they really are different. They definitely sound a lot more dynamic than the stuff that we produced. You can't run in competition with someone who has been recording for like 20 or 30 years. What he brought to the rest of the stuff was really beautiful definition and hi-fi."
Given the dramatic events leading up to "12 Memories," one might think Healy would be overflowing with song ideas. But even after three albums packed with poignant tunes, the inspiration for Travis's latest disc didn't come easily.
"To be honest, writing songs is still difficult, because you're making something out of nothing," said Healy, who will take the stage with Travis Saturday at downtown's Spreckels Theatre. "But it's like any creative process, like painting a picture or thinking up a story: It starts with absolutely nothing. It starts with this flash, and you have to catch the flash and turn it into something. But those flashes, they're hard to catch."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
Here's the Travis story that ran in the Union-Tribune's Night&Day section Thursday, Jan. 29:
Travis pulls through to create memories
By Chris Nixon
January 29, 2004
After four years of constant touring behind its 2000 breakthrough album, "The Man Who," and 2001's "The Invisible Band," Scottish quartet Travis desperately needed a break.
The band's popularity had steadily grown since the mid '90s, when Travis joined Oasis as part of an influx of retro Brit-pop bands. But the band felt burned out, suffering from the extreme life of a rock 'n' roll band.
Just when you start to take things for granted, life has a way of playing with your expectations.
During a series of European dates in July 2002, Travis drummer Neil Primrose hit his head while relaxing on vacation. The blow to Primrose's cranium knocked the percussionist out cold, cracking his fifth and sixth vertebrae.
His bandmates (vocalist Fran Healy, guitarist Andy Dunlop and bassist Dougie Payne) actually saved Primrose's life, pulling the unconscious drummer from the water. Most doctors were doubtful about Primrose's chances of walking again. But within six months, he was walking and drumming.
"It's a weird thing, but these things happen for a reason," said a wizened Healy during a recent phone conversation from London. "Millions of people die from things like this every year, and Neal was so, so lucky. It was fortunate he had his friends around and he survived. Just walking would be good enough, but he's playing like nothing ever happened."
During Primrose's recovery, the band retreated to their homeland and recorded. The resulting album, 2003's "12 Memories," emerged from the sessions.
Healy said: "There's no place like Scotland in the world. It's inspired so many poems and song through history."
Trying to sidestep clichés, Healy reflected on the accident's impact on the band and "12 Memories."
"We came back into the music business a completely different band," said the eloquent Healy in his Scottish brogue. "We care about how well things do (in sales and popularity), of course. But it's not as important as it once was. It throws light on everything and prioritizes things in a certain order. The priorities of humans are generally (messed) up until nature comes and punches you in the face. Luckily for us, we pulled through."
Travis more than pulled through in 2003 – it rebounded with possibly its best effort with "12 Memories," a shimmering revelation of beautiful Brit-pop. From the swaying glistening balladry of "How Many Hearts" to the gritty distorted rock guitar of "Happy to Hang Around," the four boys from Glasgow construct a coherent album of reflective, dreamy pop singles.
Travis planned on quirky, top-notch producer Tchad Blake (Soul Coughing, Neil Finn, Latin Playboys, Los Lobos, Pearl Jam), but Primrose's quick rehab found the band recording ahead of schedule – and before Blake arrived.
"We went to Scotland with a really rudimentary setup," said Healy, who along with the rest of Travis produced most of the album on their own. "And eventually, we recorded the whole record before we knew it. So we took the whole record to Tchad, and we recorded three new songs with him: 'Peace ... Out,' 'Somewhere Else' and 'Love Will Come Through.'
"When you listen to those, they really are different. They definitely sound a lot more dynamic than the stuff that we produced. You can't run in competition with someone who has been recording for like 20 or 30 years. What he brought to the rest of the stuff was really beautiful definition and hi-fi."
Given the dramatic events leading up to "12 Memories," one might think Healy would be overflowing with song ideas. But even after three albums packed with poignant tunes, the inspiration for Travis's latest disc didn't come easily.
"To be honest, writing songs is still difficult, because you're making something out of nothing," said Healy, who will take the stage with Travis Saturday at downtown's Spreckels Theatre. "But it's like any creative process, like painting a picture or thinking up a story: It starts with absolutely nothing. It starts with this flash, and you have to catch the flash and turn it into something. But those flashes, they're hard to catch."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
Sunday, January 25, 2004
Father of funk sax and ghostly country
I've been interviewing some amazing people lately. Just this week in the Union-Tribune, I had a couple of stories: one on funk pioneer Maceo Parker and the other on New Mexico's Handsome Family.
If you get a minute, check out the stories:
For Parker, the funk retains its charm
By Chris Nixon
January 22, 2004
Always styling with the suit and tie, always exuding old-school professionalism, always brimming with rhythm and soul, funk sax master Maceo Parker remains an icon in the music world.
With his signature recipe of "two percent jazz, 98 percent funky stuff," Parker is a funk-music originator while incorporating hip-hop, jazz and soul to keep his sound inventive and original.
Along with Pee Wee Ellis and Fred Wesley, Parker helped establish the horn section as an essential piece of the funk orchestra. Starting with the classic James Brown groups of the 1960s, Parker brought his syncopated, jazzy style of sax playing to JB's music for more than two decades.
In the mid-'70s, Parker and his cohorts Ellis and Wesley hooked up with Bootsy Collins' Rubber Band and George Clinton, performing the crazy interstellar funk of Parliament-Funkadelic.
"I do use a little bit of both George and James Brown's music," said the gravel-voiced Parker. "James Brown's music is sort of my music too, because I was there when we first recorded it. I enjoyed all the time I spent, not only with those two guys, but Bootsy (Collins), too. So I get a little bit from each one of them."
Not only did Parker gain musical knowledge from the funk legends he's worked with, he also learned how to lead a band. In his own band – an outfit he's led since the early '90s, Parker takes lessons from both Brown and Clinton.
The Maceo Parker band always hits the stage in full suit and tie, drawing on Brown's sense of professional behavior. But he allows for individual freedom and expression in the music, taking a cue from Clinton's free-spirited anarchic Parliament/Funkadelic groups with incendiary live performances.
"George is really loose: You don't have to conform to anything," said the 60-year-old saxophonist, finding the middle ground between Clinton and Brown. "You don't have to be color-coordinated. His whole concept is 'Life ain't nothing but a party.' All of that is totally different than James Brown. You almost have to be in uniform. Most of the songs are pretty much the same every night."
Parker's solo releases, "Roots Revisited" (1990) and "Mo' Roots" (1991), found Parker exploring his jazzy side, while subsequent albums (1998's "FunkOverload," 2000's "Dial: M-A-C-E-O" and 2003's "Made By Maceo") focused on funk. Parker appeared as a guest with a staggering array of artists, including Ani DiFranco ("To the Teeth"), Prince ("Rave Un2 the Joy Fantastic"), Living Colour (Time's Up), Dee-Lite ("Word Clique" and "Infinity Within") and Keith Richards ("Talk Is Cheap").
Through collaborations and constant touring, Parker remains devoted to his craft: "I still love the work, I love my job and I love the people. At the same time, it gets a few bills paid as well. We have six kids, so there's always something to pay for."
One of Parker's sons, Corey, has taken up the family trade. Corey provides rhymes and hip-hop flavor to his dad's stage show, touring with Parker's talented band.
"Most bands have a singer and maybe a few horns, but (Corey) brings the whole rap thing into the mix," said Parker, obviously proud of his son. "He has a lot of fun with it. It's definitely in his blood. He's got the bug, so he's going to be onstage, whether if it's with me or doing his own thing."
Parker's recent work helps complete his resume.
"If there's any void in my career, playing recently with Prince has really filled any gaps for me. Performing with him and seeing how he goes about his business is – how do they say it on TV these days? – it's 'priceless.' "
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
And the Handsome Family:
COUNTRY HIGHWAY
Handsome Family takes its own path to get to the root of roots music
By Chris Nixon
January 22, 2004
minimalist approach to American roots music, full of ghostly imagery and dark harmonies. Mark Owen
Their spooky old-time harmonies and ghostly country stories make the Handsome Family's music an odd blend of early 20th-century folk and modern imagery.
Hailing from Albuquerque, N.M., the husband-and-wife duo creates roots country music straight out of a Victorian gothic novel or a Charles Addams cartoon, telling stories about haunted Wal-Marts and bottomless pits.
Beginning their career together almost a decade ago, the Handsome Family combines the songwriting style of the Carter Family, bittersweet melodies and DIY acoustic music for a beautiful, surreal late-night walk through the cemetery. In the current world of pop star debutantes Beyoncé and Britney, the Handsome Family's rustic tunes sound more genuine than ever.
"(The old songs) make you feel like somebody understands where you're coming from," said lyricist Rennie Sparks during a recent phone conversation from their home in New Mexico, which doubles as the couple's recording studio.
"When you hear someone singing about being 'Bootylicious,' most of us can't relate," she said. "Maybe for a few fleeting seconds at a time have I felt that way. But you listen to a Carter Family song, and I feel like I know these people and I know what they're feeling. It's much closer to the experience of being alive."
Added Brett Sparks: "All of our pop heroes are so young. Beyoncé's like 22 years old, and she's basically controlling the world with her mind and her strange little songs. When we found country and folk music, it made a lot of sense to us. It made a lot of sense to Rennie especially, because she's more of a short story writer than a poet or a conventional rock lyricist."
Following in the footsteps of traditional American song crafters, Brett and Rennie recorded six of their seven full-length albums (one live club recording) in a home studio. They also tour alone, mostly as a duo, keeping things simple and letting the songs speak for themselves in the live context.
The Handsome Family used to tour with its own van, but as Brett put it: "We beat the hell out of it." So now they rent, joining soccer moms across America in their love for minivans.
"It's totally rock 'n' roll when we pull up to a show in a minivan," said Rennie, good-naturedly poking fun at herself.
The couple performs together, writes songs together, tours together and lives together, which can be good for the creative process but can put a strain on the relationship.
"It's nice to work together," said Rennie. "We end up working on things that neither one of us would (create) on our own. I think we end up with something different this way."
"People say, 'Never work with your spouse,' " said Brett, starting a volley of words between the couple. "So that's another experiment we're working on."
Rennie added: "Not only do we work together, we sometimes spend months together where we're never separated unless one of us is in the bathroom."
"Thank god for bathrooms," quips Brett.
With the release of 2003's "Singing Bones," the duo (married for 15 years) strums their way into the listener's heart, providing a testament to the power of exquisite minimalism. A quiet symphony of singing saws and simple songs, "Singing Bones" might be the antidote to the current abundance of dancing Britneys and bouncing Beyoncés.
In contrast to clear-eyed, honest traditional folk music, pop divas seem ridiculous.
"We listen to a lot of what (writer) Greil Marcus would call 'old weird America,' " said Brett. "We listen to a lot of the old music. I don't think it's weird because it's old. I just think it's weird. You could call it O.W.A."
Rennie: "As opposed to N.W.A.: new weird America."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
If you get a minute, check out the stories:
For Parker, the funk retains its charm
By Chris Nixon
January 22, 2004
Always styling with the suit and tie, always exuding old-school professionalism, always brimming with rhythm and soul, funk sax master Maceo Parker remains an icon in the music world.
With his signature recipe of "two percent jazz, 98 percent funky stuff," Parker is a funk-music originator while incorporating hip-hop, jazz and soul to keep his sound inventive and original.
Along with Pee Wee Ellis and Fred Wesley, Parker helped establish the horn section as an essential piece of the funk orchestra. Starting with the classic James Brown groups of the 1960s, Parker brought his syncopated, jazzy style of sax playing to JB's music for more than two decades.
In the mid-'70s, Parker and his cohorts Ellis and Wesley hooked up with Bootsy Collins' Rubber Band and George Clinton, performing the crazy interstellar funk of Parliament-Funkadelic.
"I do use a little bit of both George and James Brown's music," said the gravel-voiced Parker. "James Brown's music is sort of my music too, because I was there when we first recorded it. I enjoyed all the time I spent, not only with those two guys, but Bootsy (Collins), too. So I get a little bit from each one of them."
Not only did Parker gain musical knowledge from the funk legends he's worked with, he also learned how to lead a band. In his own band – an outfit he's led since the early '90s, Parker takes lessons from both Brown and Clinton.
The Maceo Parker band always hits the stage in full suit and tie, drawing on Brown's sense of professional behavior. But he allows for individual freedom and expression in the music, taking a cue from Clinton's free-spirited anarchic Parliament/Funkadelic groups with incendiary live performances.
"George is really loose: You don't have to conform to anything," said the 60-year-old saxophonist, finding the middle ground between Clinton and Brown. "You don't have to be color-coordinated. His whole concept is 'Life ain't nothing but a party.' All of that is totally different than James Brown. You almost have to be in uniform. Most of the songs are pretty much the same every night."
Parker's solo releases, "Roots Revisited" (1990) and "Mo' Roots" (1991), found Parker exploring his jazzy side, while subsequent albums (1998's "FunkOverload," 2000's "Dial: M-A-C-E-O" and 2003's "Made By Maceo") focused on funk. Parker appeared as a guest with a staggering array of artists, including Ani DiFranco ("To the Teeth"), Prince ("Rave Un2 the Joy Fantastic"), Living Colour (Time's Up), Dee-Lite ("Word Clique" and "Infinity Within") and Keith Richards ("Talk Is Cheap").
Through collaborations and constant touring, Parker remains devoted to his craft: "I still love the work, I love my job and I love the people. At the same time, it gets a few bills paid as well. We have six kids, so there's always something to pay for."
One of Parker's sons, Corey, has taken up the family trade. Corey provides rhymes and hip-hop flavor to his dad's stage show, touring with Parker's talented band.
"Most bands have a singer and maybe a few horns, but (Corey) brings the whole rap thing into the mix," said Parker, obviously proud of his son. "He has a lot of fun with it. It's definitely in his blood. He's got the bug, so he's going to be onstage, whether if it's with me or doing his own thing."
Parker's recent work helps complete his resume.
"If there's any void in my career, playing recently with Prince has really filled any gaps for me. Performing with him and seeing how he goes about his business is – how do they say it on TV these days? – it's 'priceless.' "
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
And the Handsome Family:
COUNTRY HIGHWAY
Handsome Family takes its own path to get to the root of roots music
By Chris Nixon
January 22, 2004
minimalist approach to American roots music, full of ghostly imagery and dark harmonies. Mark Owen
Their spooky old-time harmonies and ghostly country stories make the Handsome Family's music an odd blend of early 20th-century folk and modern imagery.
Hailing from Albuquerque, N.M., the husband-and-wife duo creates roots country music straight out of a Victorian gothic novel or a Charles Addams cartoon, telling stories about haunted Wal-Marts and bottomless pits.
Beginning their career together almost a decade ago, the Handsome Family combines the songwriting style of the Carter Family, bittersweet melodies and DIY acoustic music for a beautiful, surreal late-night walk through the cemetery. In the current world of pop star debutantes Beyoncé and Britney, the Handsome Family's rustic tunes sound more genuine than ever.
"(The old songs) make you feel like somebody understands where you're coming from," said lyricist Rennie Sparks during a recent phone conversation from their home in New Mexico, which doubles as the couple's recording studio.
"When you hear someone singing about being 'Bootylicious,' most of us can't relate," she said. "Maybe for a few fleeting seconds at a time have I felt that way. But you listen to a Carter Family song, and I feel like I know these people and I know what they're feeling. It's much closer to the experience of being alive."
Added Brett Sparks: "All of our pop heroes are so young. Beyoncé's like 22 years old, and she's basically controlling the world with her mind and her strange little songs. When we found country and folk music, it made a lot of sense to us. It made a lot of sense to Rennie especially, because she's more of a short story writer than a poet or a conventional rock lyricist."
Following in the footsteps of traditional American song crafters, Brett and Rennie recorded six of their seven full-length albums (one live club recording) in a home studio. They also tour alone, mostly as a duo, keeping things simple and letting the songs speak for themselves in the live context.
The Handsome Family used to tour with its own van, but as Brett put it: "We beat the hell out of it." So now they rent, joining soccer moms across America in their love for minivans.
"It's totally rock 'n' roll when we pull up to a show in a minivan," said Rennie, good-naturedly poking fun at herself.
The couple performs together, writes songs together, tours together and lives together, which can be good for the creative process but can put a strain on the relationship.
"It's nice to work together," said Rennie. "We end up working on things that neither one of us would (create) on our own. I think we end up with something different this way."
"People say, 'Never work with your spouse,' " said Brett, starting a volley of words between the couple. "So that's another experiment we're working on."
Rennie added: "Not only do we work together, we sometimes spend months together where we're never separated unless one of us is in the bathroom."
"Thank god for bathrooms," quips Brett.
With the release of 2003's "Singing Bones," the duo (married for 15 years) strums their way into the listener's heart, providing a testament to the power of exquisite minimalism. A quiet symphony of singing saws and simple songs, "Singing Bones" might be the antidote to the current abundance of dancing Britneys and bouncing Beyoncés.
In contrast to clear-eyed, honest traditional folk music, pop divas seem ridiculous.
"We listen to a lot of what (writer) Greil Marcus would call 'old weird America,' " said Brett. "We listen to a lot of the old music. I don't think it's weird because it's old. I just think it's weird. You could call it O.W.A."
Rennie: "As opposed to N.W.A.: new weird America."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
Friday, January 16, 2004
shuttlecock ballyhoo and other true stories
Honestly, I'm a little bored with the title "freelance writer." I've been working sans regular paychecks for a modicrum of freedom during the past three months, so I should be able to dictate my job title, right? Henceforth, I shall refer to myself as "expert towel boy, soft-shoe specialist, tuneful laundry engineer, geriatric cat caregiver and badminton critic at large." I appreciate you granting the first of what is sure to be a long list of wishes, cn
'We worked our way up through the trenches'
Had a great time over the holiday, hung with friends from all over in Punta Banda, 15 miles south of Ensenada in Baja California. As Bukowski would say: "To all my friends..."
I wrote up a little article for the Union-Tribune on San Diego band Counterfit. They're real good, so if they come to your town check them out.
Here's the article:
Counterfit, Jan. 15, 2003 -- Union-Tribune
January and February are going to be busy months. Here's a rundown of the articles I have planned tentatively: Greyboy All Stars, Travis, The 88, The Shins, Rickie Lee Jones, Starsailor, P.O.D., Bob Weir/Ratdog, A Perfect Circle, The Crystal Method and Flogging Molly. Great bands, all of them.
I just added my top albums from 2003 along the left-hand rail of this page. You may have to scroll down a bit. Let me know your thoughts and your picks. Cheers, cn
I wrote up a little article for the Union-Tribune on San Diego band Counterfit. They're real good, so if they come to your town check them out.
Here's the article:
January and February are going to be busy months. Here's a rundown of the articles I have planned tentatively: Greyboy All Stars, Travis, The 88, The Shins, Rickie Lee Jones, Starsailor, P.O.D., Bob Weir/Ratdog, A Perfect Circle, The Crystal Method and Flogging Molly. Great bands, all of them.
I just added my top albums from 2003 along the left-hand rail of this page. You may have to scroll down a bit. Let me know your thoughts and your picks. Cheers, cn
Saturday, December 27, 2003
Standing in the shadows...
The Funk Brothers -- legendary Motown house band featured in the 2003 documentary "Standing in the Shadows of Motown" -- bring their show to the Belly Up Tavern on Saturday. I had the chance to talk recently with both Jack Ashford (Marvin Gaye's favorite percussionist) and Allan Slutsky, the writer who tracked the Motown musicians down after living in obscurity for decades. Due to the efforts of Slutsky, the men who make up the Funk Brothers now tour regularly. On this go 'round, Joan Osborne and Darius Rucker help out on vocals. Here's the preview article I wrote for the San Diego Union-Tribune:
HOUSE BAND NO. 1
At the Belly Up, a chance to stand in the shadow of Motown
By Chris Nixon
December 25, 2003
History has a way of burying genius, letting the winners and corporate bosses take the spoils – and the credit. Studio musicians, toiling away and creating music in anonymity, don't often get the spotlight, and more importantly, the recognition they deserve.
Enter the Funk Brothers: 13 studio musicians who changed the face of American pop music. As payroll employees for Motown Records, these musicians were a part of more No. 1 hits than the Beach Boys, the Rolling Stones, Elvis and the Beatles combined.
The Funk Brothers included some of Detroit's best musicians, and their story has remained untold for nearly half a century until this year's documentary film "Standing in the Shadows of Motown" shed some light on the musicians who created the famous "Motown sound."
"It really was like a factory," said Funk Brothers percussionist Jack Ashford from his home in Memphis, Tenn. "We would show up at 10 in the morning and go through the charts for the day– I got paid $10 a song. Some days we would record six or more songs, so it was good pay for that time."
Part documentary, part performance film, "Standing in the Shadows of Motown" tells the story of the Motown musicians through stories and the memories of the men who lived the music. The one-hour-and-48-minute movie has the feel of an American "Buena Vista Social Club," giving long-overdue notoriety and exposure to talented and influential musicians.
But the film – the brainchild of transcriptionist Allan "Dr. Licks" Slutsky – almost didn't get made.
Like many things, the cinematic retelling of the Funk Brothers' story came down to one thing – money.
"Well, the whole process took 17 years," said Slutsky recently. "The book started as a collection of (Funk Brothers bassist) James Jamerson's transcriptions. When I started talking to James' wife, Anna, she introduced me to all the guys and I started finding that it was a bigger story. After the book came out, I was chasing money around for a decade to make the film."
During the process, Slutsky lost a longtime friend to pancreatic cancer, but the break through came soon after his friend's death.
"My best friend from college – he was the kind of guy who'd call everyday and offer his support for the film – died from pancreatic cancer a few years ago," said Slutsky. "My other friend from college was sitting next to a gentleman reading my book at the funeral. Turns out, this guys is a volunteer fireman who sold an idea for a product and was now a billionaire. He ended up financing the movie. So I guess my friend gave me a little gift on his way out."
In addition to the documentary aspect of "Standing in the Shadows of Motown," the movie includes a reunited Funk Brothers performing Motown hits in front of a live crowd, with guest vocal spots by Chaka Khan, Ben Harper, Bootsy Collins, Montell Jordan, Meshell Ndegeocello, Joan Osborne and Gerald Levert.
Things went so well that the unheralded house band for Motown Records hit the road in support of the stunning documentary. The current tour includes a New Year's show with the Dead (the surviving members of the Grateful Dead), proving Motown's widespread appeal.
And the upcoming Belly Up show Saturday night provides a rare opportunity to see these living legends live on stage, along with Joan Osborne and Hootie & The Blowfish lead man Darius Rucker on vocals.
"The Motown tunes are truly America's music," said Ashford. "This music means a lot to people. And it means a lot to us, too. So to have people come up after our gigs and tell how much it means for them to hear us play live, it's just an amazing experience after so many years."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
HOUSE BAND NO. 1
At the Belly Up, a chance to stand in the shadow of Motown
By Chris Nixon
December 25, 2003
History has a way of burying genius, letting the winners and corporate bosses take the spoils – and the credit. Studio musicians, toiling away and creating music in anonymity, don't often get the spotlight, and more importantly, the recognition they deserve.
Enter the Funk Brothers: 13 studio musicians who changed the face of American pop music. As payroll employees for Motown Records, these musicians were a part of more No. 1 hits than the Beach Boys, the Rolling Stones, Elvis and the Beatles combined.
The Funk Brothers included some of Detroit's best musicians, and their story has remained untold for nearly half a century until this year's documentary film "Standing in the Shadows of Motown" shed some light on the musicians who created the famous "Motown sound."
"It really was like a factory," said Funk Brothers percussionist Jack Ashford from his home in Memphis, Tenn. "We would show up at 10 in the morning and go through the charts for the day– I got paid $10 a song. Some days we would record six or more songs, so it was good pay for that time."
Part documentary, part performance film, "Standing in the Shadows of Motown" tells the story of the Motown musicians through stories and the memories of the men who lived the music. The one-hour-and-48-minute movie has the feel of an American "Buena Vista Social Club," giving long-overdue notoriety and exposure to talented and influential musicians.
But the film – the brainchild of transcriptionist Allan "Dr. Licks" Slutsky – almost didn't get made.
Like many things, the cinematic retelling of the Funk Brothers' story came down to one thing – money.
"Well, the whole process took 17 years," said Slutsky recently. "The book started as a collection of (Funk Brothers bassist) James Jamerson's transcriptions. When I started talking to James' wife, Anna, she introduced me to all the guys and I started finding that it was a bigger story. After the book came out, I was chasing money around for a decade to make the film."
During the process, Slutsky lost a longtime friend to pancreatic cancer, but the break through came soon after his friend's death.
"My best friend from college – he was the kind of guy who'd call everyday and offer his support for the film – died from pancreatic cancer a few years ago," said Slutsky. "My other friend from college was sitting next to a gentleman reading my book at the funeral. Turns out, this guys is a volunteer fireman who sold an idea for a product and was now a billionaire. He ended up financing the movie. So I guess my friend gave me a little gift on his way out."
In addition to the documentary aspect of "Standing in the Shadows of Motown," the movie includes a reunited Funk Brothers performing Motown hits in front of a live crowd, with guest vocal spots by Chaka Khan, Ben Harper, Bootsy Collins, Montell Jordan, Meshell Ndegeocello, Joan Osborne and Gerald Levert.
Things went so well that the unheralded house band for Motown Records hit the road in support of the stunning documentary. The current tour includes a New Year's show with the Dead (the surviving members of the Grateful Dead), proving Motown's widespread appeal.
And the upcoming Belly Up show Saturday night provides a rare opportunity to see these living legends live on stage, along with Joan Osborne and Hootie & The Blowfish lead man Darius Rucker on vocals.
"The Motown tunes are truly America's music," said Ashford. "This music means a lot to people. And it means a lot to us, too. So to have people come up after our gigs and tell how much it means for them to hear us play live, it's just an amazing experience after so many years."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego writer.
Friday, December 19, 2003
Them Changes -- quarter-year catch up
I logged the last transmission over four months ago, so obviously a lot has changed for me. The past two months in particular have been some of the most enjoyable during my adult years from a career perspective. For quite some time, I'd been feeling clausterphobic and imprisoned by the grind of the daily commute, jacking myself upon coffee to make it through the day, the days passing as I sat in my cubicle, feeling drained and non-human in my interactions with co-workers and certainly with my girlfriend Lisa. I was losing my sense of direction, the days a haze of wrestling with technology more than purely writing. It was time for change...
So I gave my notice and ventured into the unstable world of freelance writing. It's been an uncertain time: financially mostly. When I started freelancing (my last day at SignOn was Oct. 3), I had this image of jumping off a cliff and learning how to fly on the way down. I'm durprised at how little I can live on. I love being able to cook again. Being able to take time to craft a piece if I feel its necessary or worthy. Being able to enjoy the beautiful SD weather. I am truly a lucky man.
So I've been writing for the San Diego Union-Tribune, CMJ magazine, Anthem magazine and SignOnSanDiego as Chris Nixon; for Fahrenheit San Diego as Ingrid Domingues and Jeb Stewart for CityBeat. More on the names later.
Here's a short compendium of some of the articles I've written in the last couple of months:
Skydiver, September Localese -- Union-Tribune
Raveonettes, Oct. 2, 2003 -- Union-Tribune
Lake Trout, Oct. 9, 2003 -- Union-Tribune
Califone, Oct. 16, 2003 -- Union-Tribune
John Reis/The Sultans, Oct. 23, 2003 -- Union-Tribune
The Deftones, Oct. 30, 2003 -- Union-Tribune
Skydiving feature, Oct. 2003 -- SignOnSanDiego
Robert Walter/DNA-1, November Localese -- Union-Tribune
Chris Robinson, Nov. 13, 2003 -- Union-Tribune
Hot Club of Cowtown, Nov. 27, 2003 -- Union-Tribune
Exile on Kettner, Dec. 18 -- Union-Tribune
FAHRENHEIT
San Diego Indymedia, Oct. 13, 2003 -- Fahrenheit
The Plot to Blow Up the Eiffel Tower, Nov. 13, 2003 -- Fahrenheit
The Viewmasters, Nov. 20, 2003 -- Fahrenheit
Kalle Lasn Q&A, Nov. 26, 2003 -- Fahrenheit
San Diego Indymedia, Dec. 3, 2003 -- Fahrenheit
North Park Deli review, Dec. 3, 2003 -- Fahrenheit
San Diego Indymedia, Dec. 3, 2003 -- Fahrenheit
Super Cocina, Dec. 11, 2003 -- Fahrenheit
CITYBEAT
Broken Social Scene, Nov. 19, 2003 -- CityBeat
So I gave my notice and ventured into the unstable world of freelance writing. It's been an uncertain time: financially mostly. When I started freelancing (my last day at SignOn was Oct. 3), I had this image of jumping off a cliff and learning how to fly on the way down. I'm durprised at how little I can live on. I love being able to cook again. Being able to take time to craft a piece if I feel its necessary or worthy. Being able to enjoy the beautiful SD weather. I am truly a lucky man.
So I've been writing for the San Diego Union-Tribune, CMJ magazine, Anthem magazine and SignOnSanDiego as Chris Nixon; for Fahrenheit San Diego as Ingrid Domingues and Jeb Stewart for CityBeat. More on the names later.
Here's a short compendium of some of the articles I've written in the last couple of months:
FAHRENHEIT
CITYBEAT
Friday, August 08, 2003
'The Complex'
I just re-listened to the radio show which I hosted today (if you read below, you'll see my rant on radio). On second listen, it' didn't sound as horrible as the actual experience. This is a common occurence for performers. Thinking back to the days when I used to jam percussion on stage, the experience of being on stage often clouded my perception of how things actually sounded.
This phenomenon works both ways really. Sometimes it doesn't feel good on stage, but you listen back later and the performance sounds better than you thought. Conversely, you can come off stage feeling great, but when you take a listen afterward it sounds terrible. This is why there are so many terrible musicians torturing innocent audiences out there: they have no idea how badly they sound. Ditto for karaoke. It has something to do with focusing on your own feelings and perceptions instead of seeing and hearing the reality of the situation. When you're on stage, you are the center of attention and sometimes the reality never sinks in.
It's the same with a radio studio. They're usually plain rooms with microphones. Not much to focus on, except for your perception of your performance. In short: I thought I sucked today, but on second listen it didn't sound as terrible as I thought it would.
This is all over-analyzing, but isn't that what blogs are for? (I picture Stevie Wonder holding hands with Elton John singing "That's what blogs are for..." Stevie and Elton are always there to back me up when I need them.)
Speaking of complex, the Blue Man Group is playing San Diego this weekend and hopefully I'll get a chance to check them out. I talked about this concert during this week's radio show, so that's what made me think of it. Anyway, I wrote up a profile for SignOnSanDiego, so take a read through if you have a minute or two. Cheers.
This phenomenon works both ways really. Sometimes it doesn't feel good on stage, but you listen back later and the performance sounds better than you thought. Conversely, you can come off stage feeling great, but when you take a listen afterward it sounds terrible. This is why there are so many terrible musicians torturing innocent audiences out there: they have no idea how badly they sound. Ditto for karaoke. It has something to do with focusing on your own feelings and perceptions instead of seeing and hearing the reality of the situation. When you're on stage, you are the center of attention and sometimes the reality never sinks in.
It's the same with a radio studio. They're usually plain rooms with microphones. Not much to focus on, except for your perception of your performance. In short: I thought I sucked today, but on second listen it didn't sound as terrible as I thought it would.
This is all over-analyzing, but isn't that what blogs are for? (I picture Stevie Wonder holding hands with Elton John singing "That's what blogs are for..." Stevie and Elton are always there to back me up when I need them.)
Speaking of complex, the Blue Man Group is playing San Diego this weekend and hopefully I'll get a chance to check them out. I talked about this concert during this week's radio show, so that's what made me think of it. Anyway, I wrote up a profile for SignOnSanDiego, so take a read through if you have a minute or two. Cheers.
Rock the radio spot
For those of us who worship the written word, the gift of gab comes slow like maple syrup on a cold winter day. I've been working with my co-workers at SignOn to develop a weekly radio show. It's called Entertainment Live. The show broadcasts live on this Internet radio station called World Talk Radio. It's also archived so listeners can go back and check out old rants.
Today (Thursday), I played host to the show for the first time. Switching gears from writing to talking coherently is tough, but life unchallanged is bland like baby food. The show offers no editing, only your thoughts and thinking on your feet. The trick is filter the random stuff on the fly, like mental gymnastics for the random at heart. Somtimes you're just stuck with vowel movements. Anyway, if you want to hear a writer stumble and bumble his way through his first hosting experience, check this out.
Today (Thursday), I played host to the show for the first time. Switching gears from writing to talking coherently is tough, but life unchallanged is bland like baby food. The show offers no editing, only your thoughts and thinking on your feet. The trick is filter the random stuff on the fly, like mental gymnastics for the random at heart. Somtimes you're just stuck with vowel movements. Anyway, if you want to hear a writer stumble and bumble his way through his first hosting experience, check this out.
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