Chad Radford

Dela feat. Reach - "Go On" (Video Mix)

2011-03-27T11:04:00.013-04:00

On a recent trip to Kansas City, MO I made the acquaintance of a rapper named Reach. He's got a new mixtape that came out at the top of the year called The Pen Pusha, and it's been getting a lot of spins around the apt. lately.

I'll definitely write something more substantial on Reach soon, but in the meantime check out the fancy footwork in this video that landed in my inbox over the weekend.

Laura has had a tumor and it has had to go...

2010-08-30T18:47:00.016-04:00

After a recent trip to the doctor to have a pain in her midsection checked out, Laura Hunt, my girlfriend of the last 15 years was told that she ~~has~~ had an ovarian tumor. Needless to say the news came as a shock and, as it turns out, the tumor is about the same size as the ovary itself. It’s what’s called a Dermoid tumor and although only about 10% of these kinds of tumors are cancerous it is growing and will ultimately cause what’s called an Ovarian torsion to occur. It has to be removed.

The bottom line is that even with insurance through GSU we have to raise 20% of the total cost of the surgery. That 20% is somewhere in the neighborhood of $5,000-$8,000 and Atlanta Medical Center wants it up front before they operate.

In the meantime we’re trying to raise money by any means possible. There are a couple of benefit concerts being organized around Atlanta, and I will update this post with information about the shows as it becomes available.

The first show is at Blind Willes on Sun., Sept. 19. Chickens & Pigs, The 4th Ward Afro-Klezmer Orchestra, Rocksploitation (formerly the A-Sides), the Bob Page trio, the Rod Hamdallah Band, and Western Union Messenger are playing, and maybe more (details coming soon). The cover will be a $10 donation. Music starts at 4 p.m.

A second show is happening at 529 on Sun., Sept. 26. Howlies, Mermaids, the Clap and Knaves Grave are playing. The cover will be a $10 donation. Music will start at 8 p.m.

For the time being we have set up the following Paypal link for anyone who would like to make a donation.

UPDATE: Laura had surgery on Wed., Sept. 8. Her tumor was removed successfully, along with a second tumor that we did not know about. Not really sure what the case is with the second tumor, but should know more about it soon. She's at home recovering now.

Ty Segall Melted

2010-05-25T12:28:00.002-04:00

Here it is. Ty Segall has officially raised the bar on Frisco noise-pop with Melted, an album that balances concise hooks with blown-speaker fidelity, achieving lo-fi perfection. The album maintains the primitive, psychedelic dirge qualities that keep him tied to his peers Thee Oh Sees, Nobunny, the Fresh & Onlys, etc. But as the first falsetto coo and broken, acoustic jangle of “Finger” explodes with a squelch and a distorted smash, it’s clear that he means business like never before. “Girlfriend” carries the first signs of carefree, melodic brilliance made all the more compelling by layers of jagged white noise. The upward trajectory continues into the melancholy of “Sad Fuzz,” before diving headlong into the doom-pop riffs of the title track. “Bees” degenerates into an annoying warble about drugs, but in the context of so many great songs, it’s forgivable. With its cycle of swelling, heart-pounding melodies and discordance, “Imaginary Person” seals the deal, making Melted the album that this whole scene has strived to create. (Goner Records) 5 out of 5 stars.

"Girlfriend" mp3
"Sad Fuzz" mp3

This review originally appeared on Creative Loafing's Crib Notes music blog.

David Cross' Bigger and Blackerer is out today!

2010-05-24T23:38:00.009-04:00

MP3 of I Can’t Get Beer in Me

Attention freedom haters! David Cross' latest CD, Bigger and Blackerer is out today (5/25) via Sub Pop.

So, you watched the video pasted above, and even listened to the mp3 about the ridiculousness of beer cans that change color when they're cold, and now you're thinking "Meh... I used to watch Mr. Show... I even stayed up late one night watching that Alvin and the Chipmunks movie just because he was in it. But do I really need another comedy CD adding more clutter to my mundane life?"

Yes you do. You need this CD because David Cross has an unmatched ability to express everything that you hate about living alongside other Americans, and he does so in a far more eloquent way than you could ever hope to pull off. ...and he's offensive too! He makes fun of pretty much everything you have ever been told to keep quiet about, and he goes there without apology, and without restraint. Amen.

Gold Panda UK releases "You" 12" via Ghostly International

2010-05-18T08:44:00.010-04:00

Gold Panda (the good Gold Panda, from Essex, UK) are about to release a 12"/download for the song "You" via Ghostly International before heading out across the the U.S. on tour. This is the first release of their trademark glitch-laden bliss and beautiful wallpaper to bare the mark of G.I. If you opt for the vinyl you're a team player, but if you go the digital route you'll get a handful of bonus remixes of "You" + 1 one more song. ...So if you like "You" so much that you feel the need for 5 different takes on it, the download is for you.

Look for the record at their merch table.

Tracklist

“You” & “Peaky Caps” b/w

“You (Seams Remix)”

“You" (Osborne Remix)

“You” (Minotaur Shock Remix) [download only]

“You” (Dam Mantle Remix) [download only]

“Killing Yourself On A Beach” [download only]

Gold Panda are playing at 529 in ATL on Thurs., June 24 with HEALTH, Indian Jewelry and Knaves Grave. $8. 9 p.m. Advance tickets are available through Ticket Alternative.

Ty Segall at Blackbird

2010-05-17T13:54:00.000-04:00

Ty Segall at Blackbird from Scats Thoughtered on Vimeo.

Club 8 "Western hospitality"

2010-05-15T02:38:00.002-04:00

Club 8 "Western hospitality" from Labrador Records.

"Western Hospitality" (Pallers Remix) mp3

They're from Sweden!

Matmos & So Percussion collaborate on Treasue State

2010-05-12T21:48:00.005-04:00

Treasure State, the forthcoming collaboration between Brooklyn-based percussion quartet, aptly called So Percussion, and Baltimore masters of musiq concrete and experimental electronic pop Matmos is being released into the digital world Sat., June 15, and to the physical wold on Tues., July 13 via Cantaloupe Music.

This week the label released "Treasure," the first look at this strange merger of modern classical and the electronic avant-garde.

"Treasure" mp3

"Treasure" is the opening number from the album, and is a sparkling introduction to what these two camps are capable of concocting together. The variety of percussive sounds on the record give a baroque a feel to Matmos' stylistically squiggling and formless warble, making it one of the best things Matmos has released since A Chance To cut Is A Chance To Cure came out way back in 2001. Who knew that a dose of marvelous percussion would go so far with Matmos' sound.

(Photo courtesy Cantaloupe Music)

Why I don’t like (Trent Reznor’s) How to Destroy Angels (so far)

2010-05-12T00:32:00.001-04:00

Having come of age in the '90s I can't help but be a Nine Inch Nails fan to a degree. Everything before and including The Downward Spiral is genius. Everything after is only mediocre, bordering on washed-up, sometimes to the point of embarrassment, with the exception of The Slip which was a brilliant return to form that brought NIN to a close on a high note.

Take a poll and 99% of the civilized world will say that Pretty Hate Machine is their favorite NIN album. It's a good one, but I can't really agree. Regardless, Pretty Hate Machine is the one that most folks will admit to still owning and even loving. So be it. I was 15 years old when that record tape came out and I was definitely feeling Trent's angst. What made it such an amazing album was that he channeled all of his sexual anxieties into the catchiest, darkest industrial dance pop songs that the world had ever witnessed, and with unapologetic gusto. Skinny Puppy, Front 242, RevCo et. al. were good, but Trent had the hooks.

As a teenager, the appeal of Pretty Hate Machine was simple: this guy is really screwed up in the head over a woman, and it resulted in an album that was savage, primal -- despite its futuristic nature, and it was totally confrontational. The only way out is through, and that's why people still hold on to it.

There is nothing dangerous, or even remotely compelling about "A Drowning," the first song to go public from Trent's new group, "How To Destroy Angels." The bottom line is this: Mr. Self-Destruct is now married to a beautiful woman and she's singing along to his jams. Whaaat?!?! I'm all for living happily ever after and all; and the music is alright, but when placed alongside the lovely female vocals the whole thing becomes a goth cliche. I know... It's only one song, but first impressions count, right?

And what's up with that name, anyway? Kids these days may not know Coil, but I certainly do. I heard Coil's album, How To Destroy Angels not long after I heard Nine Inch Nails for the first time and it was a totally horrific and awesome listening experience that left me scarred. As a teenager stumbling on to How To Destroy Angels was like accidentally discovering a portal to hell or some other nightmarish dimension were I had no business hanging around. It evoked fear and curiosity, and it revealed wholly new dimensions for what drone, noise and industrial music can be. Here it's just girlie and sentimental, hardly a fitting tribute to the masters.

Why I don't like remixes (for the most part...)

2010-04-24T00:04:00.014-04:00

I've never been sold on the cult of the remix. More often than not they only make me want to go back and listen to the song in its original form, which is always more fulfilling than when some fancy pants producer, DJ, or other musician puts it through a blender.

I became aware of my disdain for the dreaded remix back in the early '90s when Nine Inch Nails, Coil, Pigface, RevCo and the rest of the post-Wax Trax legacy bands were spitting them out willy-nilly. For me it became a hard, fast rule that when a band starts pushing remixes as though they're some sort of essential listen (live albums too), they're done. There are exceptions to the rule, to be sure, but I can't really think of any off the top of my head.

In my head, a song's strengths are all about the performance, not after thoughts wgile twiddling knobs. Also, when a song has been released unto the world, it takes on a life of its own. Regardless of the artist's intentions, listeners have taken it in, digested it and made it their own. Remixes only muddle things up.

Case in point: The Keepaway remix of Fol Chen's song "In Ruins" showed up in my inbox this weekend, and when placed next to the original version of the song, it's a real bummer. What a great group with a great mystique!

...songs of malaise and miscommunication set to dark pop and glitch-riddled chamber funk. Since the band's inception, Fol Chen has remained a mysterious entity - its membership disguised by masks and aliases, its lyrics appearing as transmissions from a fictional world.

"In Ruins" mp3

"In Runins" Keepaway remix mp3

It's creepy and sweet, and it's totally catchy in it's original form. But the remix just kind of chokes the life out of it.

Jason Urick “Fussing & Fighting” video

2010-04-20T01:32:00.002-04:00

Jason Urick - Fussing & Fighting from Thrill Jockey Records on Vimeo.

Directed by Mark Brown

Jason Urick is highly regarded in the Baltimore music and arts scene, through his work in WZT Hearts, and at the Floristree Space where he has curated many shows and festivals. "Fussing & Fighting" follows his solo album debut Husbands, and finds Urick pushing his music farther forward with new experiments in rhythm and sonic space.

--Thrill Jockey

Indian Jewelry "Oceans" mp3

2010-04-16T22:51:00.004-04:00

Indian Jewelry "Oceans" mp3

On Tues., May 11 Indian Jewelry will release Totaled (We Are Free/Monitor Records) a record the group calls “weird, dirty and to the point.”

Erika Thrasher and Tex Kerschen wrote and recorded the record in 2009 in Houston and Los Angeles. TOTALED is the sum of hundreds of shows on the road and hundreds of hours under headphones. The songs were developed with Richard Durham, Mary Sharpe, and Rodney Rodriguez.

Indian Jewelry, Health and Gold Panda play 529 on Thurs., June 24.

Thee Oh Sees prep Warm Slime

2010-04-06T00:25:00.005-04:00

"I Was Denied" mp3

The ridiculously prolific Bay Area band Thee Oh Sees are back with another full-length long-player. Warm Slime is guaranteed to please fans of their whacked-out garage / psych / punk jams.

Recorded by Sacramento sultan of sound Chris Woodhouse, Warm Slime carries on in the same tradition as the group's previous In The Red release, Help, showcasing their more electrified and rocking side, in comparison to other recent home-recorded releases. The centerpiece is undoubtedly the mind-bending title track, which clocks in at nearly 14 minutes and takes up the entirety of the album's first side. It's a psychedelic epic of "Inna Gadda Da Vida" proportions! John Dwyer's guitar playing is at its quadra-spazzed best here, and the vocal interplay with Brigid Dawson gives it a B-52s-at-their-least-cheesy-crossed-with-the-Troggs vibe. The results are stunning.

Warm Slime is due out May 11.

Interview: Lockett Pundt of Deerhunter/Atlas Sound

2009-09-21T11:57:00.002-04:00

Deerhunter guitarist Lockett Pundt is making his live solo debut this Tues. night when Lotus Plaza opens for the Books at Eyedrum.

Chad Radford: Tell me about how the Lotus Plaza album, The Floodlight Collective came together and what you had in mind as you going in to it?
Lockett Pundt: I didn’t really have a whole lot in mind when I sat down to write the songs on the album. I have a hard time getting things done when I have something specific in mind in regards to song writing. Most of them were just a simple idea that sort of blossomed into a song. They all sort of have their own environment. I would go into a song with a guitar loop or drum track and it would either take off, or nothing would come of it. I think the only song in which I had a very clear view of how I wanted it to sound was “Antoine.” I had a Joe Meek sample that I played at a few different speeds creating this crazy out of phase percussive thing and I heard the song from the beginning. Other than that, I just had fun writing songs and had enough to put together an album.

Did you write the songs on the album on your own or was it a group effort that involved anyone else?
I did everything myself. Brad [Cox] plays drums on “Different Mirrors.” He thought it might sound better adding drums over the drum loop in the song and he added it on the first take. I thought it sounded great.

How did you approach it differently from a Deerhunter record?
I write a lot more lyrics myself, which I don’t do all that much in Deerhunter. I tend to write more personal I suppose. I never really try to write a song either way, I think it just sort of happens that one is a better Deerhunter song than one I would use personally. In my songs, I definitely like the parts and instrumentation to remain as how they are, but with songs that are introduced to Deerhunter, I like the guys to write their own parts or do them how they would. That’s the main difference in the approach to me.

All Music says The Flood Light Collective takes its nam after one of your first bands.
It was a band that me Brad and our mutual friend Wes played in during high school. It wasn’t anything serious really, just sort of jam on stuff and have fun. It is a fond memory to name a album to. It was one of the first musical experiences that I shared with other people. It seemed to fit as a title to me.

Is there one piece of music out there – an album, or maybe just a song – that has resonated with you over the years; something that you think of as influence to your whole approach as a musician?
One of my favorite songs ever is “Prairie Rose” by Roxy Music. I listened to them a lot growing up since my mom was a massive fan. The song gives me goosebumps when I hear it. I think it’s a perfect pop song. I think another one would have to be “Sunrain” by Ash Ra Tempel. I guess these both are what I consider to be a Holy Grail of song writing. It’s hard to say that any one thing is a massive influence on what I do, but these are definitely on my mind a lot.

Is this the first time that you’ve made a live appearance with Lotus Plaza?
Yea it is. I’m pretty nervous.

What’s the line-up and instrumentation going to be for this show?
It will be just me and a guitar, a sampler and a loop pedal. Pretty simple for the most part. I would like to have a whole band play some new stuff someday, but I have been out of town for three months and haven’t had much time to get together a set including other people. I kind of want to do something a little different anyways. Something more ambient and loose in nature.

Will there be more Lotus Plaza releases in the foreseeable future?
I hope so. now that I’m back home again, I’m really looking forward to messing around with music for fun. When I get back from a Deerhunter tour and have a week or so downtime before we leave again, I generally leave my guitar in it’s case until it’s time to leave again. We have a little time off from touring now, so I’m hoping to relax and do it more for enjoyment. That’s about the only way I can write songs I like. I can’t force it.

Lotus Plaza “Red Oak Way” mp3

Lotus Plaza plays Eyedrum Tues., Sept. 22 with the Books. $13-$15. 9 p.m. 290 Martin Luther King Jr. Drive, Suite 8. 404-522-0655.

(Photo courtesy Kranky Records)

DJing @ 529 on Tues., Sept. 15 w/ Pillow Talk, Parking Lot Paul and more. FREE 9 p.m.

2009-09-13T12:44:00.002-04:00

I am DJing at 529 on Tues. night with Rachel and Michelle from Pillow Talk, Parking Lot Paul, Lindsay Long and GG King (I think).

We will be playing a good mix of punk rock, '60s frat rock, new wave, now wave, power pop, garage rock, girl group stuff, noisy stuff, good stuff.

I personally will be spinning a set of all local stuff from the 1980s to now, which covers everything from Neon Christ to the Balkans, Selmanaires, Nightporters, Electrosleep, Gaye Blades, Carbonas, Rock*A*Teens, Abby Go Go, Carnivores, Howlies, Coathangers, Herb & Jason Harris, Gentleman Jesse, ANDPW -- pretty much whatever I can pull off of my record shelves. Hit me up if there's any local stuff that you're dying to hear.

It's free and the records start spinning around 9 p.m.

B jay Womack memorial T-shirts

2009-08-02T19:13:00.002-04:00

I have a box full of Bobby Ubangi T-shirts left over from the fundraisers that we held to pay for his funeral expenses at the beginning of July.

I have a bunch of Large and a few Medium sizes left. If you would like one of these shirts you should drop me a line and we'll hook it up.

I'll probably just hit you up for postage costs since we aren't really taking donations anymore. I'd rather see them go out into the world than let them gather dust in my apartment.

They are cool shirts nonetheless. They first appeared via Rob's House around the time that B Jay was diagnosed with terminal cancer. All props for this second batch go to Rob Downs.

Use Your Allusion: Black Moth Super Rainbow revels in mystique

2009-07-21T11:21:00.007-04:00

Black Moth Super Rainbow crafts the kind of music you can see, feel, taste and touch, wrapped in album covers you can hear. Merriam-Webster’s Dictionary defines this sort of sensory confusion as synesthesia, but the group’s elusive and soft-spoken leader Tobacco, née Tom Fec, isn’t keen on labeling the music anything at all. “I want it to be whatever you want it to be,” he offers with a lingering silence at the end of his words. “To me it’s just pop music. I don’t call it psychedelic and I don’t call it electro-synth music as some people have done. But if that’s what the listener wants it to be, then that’s what it can be.”

As frustrating as his passing of the buck seems, that open-ended mystery has bestowed BMSR with its greatest asset: intrigue. The group’s identity, and in turn the music, is so rich with abstraction that revealing too much information would do it a disservice.

Continue reading...

"Born On A Day the Sun Didn't Rise" mp3

(Photo by Jae Ruberto)

A Smoke reunion of sorts...

2009-07-14T10:16:00.006-04:00

Hubcap City is teaming up with former Smoke cellist Brian Halloran to perform an impromptu soundtrack to Carl Dreyer's silent film, The Passion of Joan of Arc at Opal Gallery in L5P on Sat., July 25.

There is a striking resemblance between Melle Falconetti, the actress who plays Joan d'Arc in the film, and Smoke's enigmatic frontman Benjamin shortly before he died, so it doesn't take much thought to figure out why HC gravitated toward this project.

With Bill Taft, Will Fratesi and Halloran all performing together, I think it's safe to say that this is the closest thing to a Smoke reunion we're ever going to see. I also hear that they've exhumed some old Smoke songs for the show as well.

The show is free and the music/film starts at sundown. Bring lawn chairs.

GZA + King Khan!

2009-06-23T23:20:00.003-04:00

It's official: When the "Supreme Genius" King Khan joined GZA on stage in Toronto to tear it up on some Liquid Swords cuts he became the first Indian to join the Wu-Tang Clique.

Frank Mullen R.I.P.

2009-05-11T10:30:00.013-04:00

I'm very sad to learn that Frank Mullen died this weekend. He was a good friend and a good photographer.

I first met Frank back in 2001 when I was working as the editor for Southeast Performer.

He shot covers for stories that I either wrote or edited on Of Montreal, Elf Power, Jucifer, Crybaby, Jet By Day, Psyche Origami and Stomped Out Like A Small Fire.

I had the opportunity to write about Frank twice for Creative Loafing. Once when his old school Florida hardcore band Roach Motel did a reunion show at Echo Lounge in 2004, which you can read about here .

The second time was back when CL used to run a column about local artists who had amazing homes. Frank's was one of the coolest homes I had visited in the city. We did a short interview that you can read here

He died of cancer at the age of 48. I will be writing about him for CL sometime over the next few weeks, so if you have any stories about Frank, please drop me a line.

Download the Mixt A vol. 1

2009-05-07T10:43:00.003-04:00

This year I somehow managed to talk the powers that be at Creative Loafing into letting me and my editor put together a compilation of some of our favorite up-and-coming Atlanta bands as an honest-to-goodness 12" LP. The record is done and the first of two record release parties is happening tonight (Thurs., May 7) at Eyedrum.

Due to some negligence on the part of the record pressing plant in Australia we won't have the LPs at the show. We have the sleeves and a voucher that you can redeem for the vinyl next week at Criminal Records. -- I won't go into the details of just how many speed bumps, battles with customs in both the U.S. and Australia, swine flu scares, and punk-ass Aussie record press employees not being very communicative that we had to rise above in the process, but if you're interested in hearing a very harrowing story about how the record came together be sure to ask me about it the next time you see me. I would love to tell you all about it. Really, it's a good story.

In the meantime you can download the 10-song comp., along with an additional 17 songs at download the whole thing, conveniently zipped in one file (warning, it's 223 MB).

In the end I am very happy with the line-up. There are some really great songs here. But there are three or four other bands that really should be on here as well... there's always vol. 2.

Here's the track list

1. Predator - "You"
2. Grip Plyaz - "Fuck Dat Hipster Shit"
3. Anna Kramer and The Lost Cause - "I Can't Take It"
4. A. Leon Craft - "Spaced Out"
5. The N.E.C. - "Cruel Sea"
6. Stanza - "A. Town Love"
7. Zoroaster - "White Dwarf"
8. Balkans - "Violent Girls"
9. Carnivores - "Shark Teeth"
10. Mums FP - "Cause & Effect"
11. Abby Go Go - "The Lost Song"
12. Spree Wilson - "Travelin' Man Blues"
13. All Night Drug Prowling Wolves - "Dance Again"
14. G.G. King - "Drug Zoo"
15. Noot d' Noot - Fingers Like Steeples
16. Batata Doce - "Corda Bomba"
17. Facehugger - "Through the Air Vents"
18. The Coathangers - "Stop Stomp Stompin'"
19. 4th Ward Afro-Klezmer Orchestra - "East Atlanta Passover Stomp"
20. Customers - "Howling At The Moon"
21. Danny! - "I Want H.E.R. (She's So Heavy)"
22. Supreeme - "I'm On Fire"
23. Derek Lyn Plastic - "Run With Me"
24. Withered - "Reveal the Essence of Suffering"
25. Pill - "Lookin' In"
26. Thy Mighty Contract - "Bats in the Dark"
27. Jeffrey Butzer - "Theme for a Tailor"

» Mixt A - Vol 1. (223 MB zipped file)

» Mirror

I'm DJing at 529 this Wed., Feb. 18th

2009-02-15T22:36:00.003-05:00

This Wednesday night I will be DJing at 529 in East Atlanta.

I will be spinning a bunch of punk rock records with Lindsay Long and there will be a few bands playing as well. Poison Arrows, Customers, Predator and Stolen Hearts (pictured above) are all playing as well. It should be a lot of fun.

Me and Lindsay will be spinning a good batch of punk rock records. I asked her what she was going to bring and she said that she had some Zero Boys singles and "Blood Stains." I will be spinning much of the same... Misfits, Nick Lowe, Joe Jackson, the Cramps, the Damned, the undertones, the Gun Club, Jay reatard, Ponys. That sort of thing. It's Stolen Hearts first show and Predator rules. $5. 8 p.m. 529 Flat Shoals Rd.

Brian Posehn: interview with a nerd

2008-10-08T00:03:00.006-04:00

Bearded and bespectacled comedian Brian Posehn has appeared everywhere from episodes of Seinfeld to the Sarah Silverman Program, and is an original fixture on the Comedians of Comedy tour. His stand-up routines draw from observations about things that most dudes don’t really like talking about in public. His hulking, 6-foot. 6-in. frame, self-embraced nerd persona and unapologetic love of heavy metal and horror films make him all the more endearing and awkward. Posehn draws strength from his attributes with Samson-like finesse. His low-energy delivery and casual demeanor from joke-to-punch line make his skits all the more genius.

Chad Radford: A lot of your material comes from observations about male insecurities regarding appearance, sex, drugs, Slayer, masturbation… Have you ever been in the middle of an act and noticed that the crowd stopped laughing at your jokes?

Brian Posehn: Yeah, it happens. Now the trouble spots seem to be smaller and more isolated than in my early years where I would lose the whole crowd. Now it’s one lady with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face while her husband is losing his mind laughing at my fart and wiener jokes. Or it’s a Bachelorette party who thinks I’m gross. Or a dumb hammered guy with a brand new baseball cap who just decided to have a bad time. And now he’s daring me to make him laugh.

How do you save it?

I just have confidence in the material I save for the latter part of my act. Especially if it’s someone in a couple I know I’ve got some relatable relationship material. If that doesn’t get her, she sucks. Just kidding. And sometimes I never win them back. The guy in the baseball cap will hate me no matter what I say.

Where do you draw the line in terms of how far you push the limits each night?

I usually feel it out. If they are tight, I won’t do certain jokes. I’ll do bits that are proven crowd-pleasers. If it’s a rock club or a Comedians of Comedy show I usually have a little more room and can do whatever I want.

Do you have any favorite comedians whom you think of as role models?

Oh man, so many. I’ve loved comedy since I was exposed to it at an early age. My mom never really monitored my TV or movie watching or record buying so I was trolling for new comedy at all times. I was a ten-year old kook obsessed with repeating Steve Martin bits and scenes from The Bad News Bears to anybody with ears. Carlin, Pryor, Freddie Prinze, Robin Williams. Later in life I got into comics that were before my time like Lenny Bruce and Bob Newhart and Don Rickles. Before I started in the eighties I was inspired by a lot of the current big acts like Bobcat, Dice, Kinison and Eddie Murphy. When I first started getting stage time and watching club comics I looked up to San Francisco locals like Greg Proops, Jake Johannsen and national acts like Janeane Garofalo, Chris Rock, Jon Stewart and Drake Sather. Then there are my friends and contemporaries like Louis CK, Mitch Hedberg, Chappell, Dave Attell, Patton Oswalt and Zach Galifianakis. They all do their own thing which is what I’ve always loved about stand-up.

Do you find audiences in rock clubs to be more difficult or even different from comedy club audience?

No, the opposite of difficult. My Comedians of Comedy experience made me love rock clubs over comedy clubs. In Rock clubs people generally know what they’re going to see and with Comedy clubs people just walk in because a shiny sign said Comedy. I’m not really worried about the Mastodon crowd; I expect them to be very cool. How bad can they be? They’re there to see me and one of the best bands out there…

What is the greater George Romero zombie classic, Night of the Living Dead or Dawn of the Dead?

I prefer Dawn simply because it took it up a bunch of notches. Bigger scope. More blood. More guts. In Color. Better weapons and kills. Loved it as a kid and I still do.

Brian Posehn opens for Mastodon in Athens on Sat. Oct. 11th at The 40 Watt as part of Chunklet Magazine’s 15th anniversary shindig. It’s Casual and Brent Weinbach also perform. $20-$22.

The following night, Sun., Oct. 12th, Posehn comes to Atlanta to headline at The Earl. Fellow comedians TJ Young, Dave Stone and Brian Weinbach also perform. $22-$25. 8:30 p.m. The Earl, 488 Flat Shoals Rd.

This interview was originally published on Creative Loafing's Crib Notes music blog. Photo by Ryan Russell

Blogs are like a**holes... everybody's got one

2008-09-23T01:35:00.002-04:00

The blogging world serves as an amplifier for the worst qualities of humanity, which is too bad. In the year 2008 blogs are a great tool / necessary evil. I understand this and I really like the fact that they are a conduit for rapid fire information to be sent out into the world. But I have nothing but contempt for the mamby pamby antics that go on with the cannibal culture of bloggers. They are contributing to the downfall of reliable journalism. Facts don't get checked, spelling errors are published and Idiocracy is in the works.

But worst of all blogs have created a haven... an outlet for cowards to hide in the mob and leave comments with their anonymous little fake names. The whole comments interphase is a botched idea. Yes, I like that it facilitates interaction between a writer and an audience, but people should not be allowed to leave comments unless they use their real names. Otherwise why are you even commenting? Just to point out the shortcomings of others to make yourself look better? If you feel so compelled and/or outraged that you have to leave commentary, use your real name!

But this will never happen. It's always the dumbest and most knee-jerk people who are driven to lash out with this contrived and self-righteous sense of smarmy venom. These people are cowards who would never say the things they say if they weren't a safe distance away. The whole system caters to panzies who don't have the balls to be held accountable for their words. I say have some respect for yourself and the people at whom you are striking out.

Of course this is all part of a larger and much more philosphical issue with human nature, but I'll save that for another blog post.

West End Motel 7" are here...

2008-04-27T10:57:00.015-04:00

After much hemming and hawing and several go-arounds with faulty test pressings coming down the pike, Ponce de Leon Records is proud to offer the new West End Motel 7 EP."

West End Motel features guitarist Brent Hinds (Mastodon, Fiend Without A Face) and vocalist Tom Cheshire (All Night Drug Prowling Wolves, Rent Boys, Kidd Boom Boom, Indigo Boys) playing sparse and love-damaged acoustic country songs that fall in line with the low and lonesome likes of Gram Parsons, Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy and Buck Owens. Their songs are sad and infinitely compelling; earnest and driven by desire, regret, loathing, catharsis, self-destruction and repair.

The songs on this four-song EP were penned by Hinds and Cheshire circa 2005 and were recorded by every bands' favorite sound man, Curt Wells.

Records are now available in the better local record stores, or are available directly from Ponce for $5 (postage paid). A limited edition of 100 copies were pressed on white vinyl, but they're going fast. If you want one, please get your order in with us ASAP.

On Friday, June 13th West End Motel will celebrate the official record release party for their debut 7" EP on Ponce. The show will be at The Highland Inn Ballroom. Show starts at 9:30 p.m. It's $5 at the door.

Records will be available at the show, but if you would like to order a copy directly from the label, just click on the shopping cart button below.

Track List:

Side A:
"Oh I'm On my Way" & "There's Gotta Be More to this Life"

Side B:
"Under my Skin" & "Women Come and Go"

Spoon is Slipping...

2008-03-29T16:51:00.008-04:00

I have never felt compelled to write a review of a press photo in the past, but that thing that happened to the Donnas –- and U2 before them -- is happening to Spoon. The group’s once goofy personalities and genuinely cool and catchy songs are fading into douche bag posturing.

This shot of Spoon (above) fills me with the same sense of stomach-churning revolt that I get when I look at one of those condo buildings that are made of industrial grade Styrofoam and have those yuppie play pin pseudo-balconies that aren’t even big enough to hold a potted plant.

The sun glasses, the gravity defying hairdo that Britt Daniels is sporting and the futuristic Photoshop sheen all come together to create a painful image of the group that screams “I believe the hype!”

Spoon still writes good songs, and the group has not passed the point of safe return just yet. But the slippery slope is getting slipperier and when groups start doing shit like this it’s an overwhelming sign that all of the bullshit is going to their heads and things are about to go straight south.

Psychedelic Horseshit and Times New Viking at Eyedrum. Thursday, March 20, 2008.

2008-03-21T16:33:00.007-04:00

From the days of Pere Ubu and Devo on through Brainiac and Guided By Voice, middle Ohio has long been a fertile breeding ground for skewed hybrids of art-damaged punk and pop sounds. Two trios from Columbus, OH passed through town last night to uphold the Buckeye state’s tradition. After opening sets from Atlanta acts Tree Creature and Gold Painted Nails, as well as Sydney, Australia-based duo Naked On the Vague, Psychedelic Horseshit played a ramshackle set with drums and keyboards balanced on paint-splattered buckets.

On record, both Psychedelic Horseshit and Times New Viking shroud their respectively lobbed songwriting in a haze of lo-fi fuzz. At Eyedrum the noise factor was as equalizer that served as a booster for both bands secretly catchy melodies.

Most notable was the transformation that came over TNV. The group’s recently released third full-length (and first for Matador Records), titled Rip It Off, sounds like it was recorded on a boom box. But when played live, the scratchy fidelity of each song melts away to reveal a wealth of rapid fire drumming and immediately catchy hooks.

The album is by no means a hard sell, but live the songs are propulsive, fun and much more compelling.

(Top photo: Psychedelic Horseshit L to R drummer Rich Johnston (left) & Matt Whitehurst (right). Bottom photo: Times New Viking singer-keyboardist Beth Murphy & drummer-singer Adam Elliott).

--Chad Radford

A Place To Bury Strangers & Holy Fuck at The Drunken Unicorn (Atlanta, GA). Monday, March 17. 2008.

2008-03-18T10:48:00.003-04:00

A Place to Bury Strangers, Oliver Ackermann.

A Place to Bury Strangers, Oliver Ackermann.

A Place To Bury Stangers Oliver Ackermann

Holy Fuck, l to r: Graham Walsh, Michael Bigelow and Brian Borcherdt

Holy Fuck, l to r: Graham Walsh and Brian Borcherdt.

Photos by Chad Radford

Cheap Time

2008-03-03T21:47:00.001-05:00

“Handy Man” b/w “Wildlife” 7-inch
Douche Master Records

Nashville trio Cheap Time is the latest export from the same scene that churned out noisy garage rock savants Be Your Own Pet. But whereas BYOP emerged with a cadre of catchy hooks backing up explosive youthful energy, Cheap Time goes back to the basics to draw out grit and stamina.

“Handy Man” is a fun-loving garage rock anthem that pounds straight-ahead through reverb and tinny production. On the flipside “Wildlife” offers more of the same, but stands out as the shining star of this single. The music is simple, fun and bound by unwavering punk rock tantrums that are infectious in their capacity to channel refined spastic energy. There isn’t much to write home about regarding songwriting here. Plodding rock naivety and enthusiasm are Cheap Time’s strongest assets and the group wields them with unadulterated passion.

--Chad Radford

Hex Dispensers

2008-03-03T21:43:00.003-05:00

“Lose My Cool” 7-inch
Douche Master Records

Urgency is the driving force behind the angst-ridden guitar chug that carries “Lose My Cool” on the A-side of this single from Austin, TX power punk outfit, the Hex Dispensers. The song strongly evokes Jay Reatard’s approach to working out demons and self-loathing via psychotic rage channeled through powerfully distorted and punk-damaged new wave melodies.

“Taxidermy Porno” on the b-side blows out irresistible angularity and controlled power, but keeps the song reigned in with sharp hooks and honest-to-goodness great lyric writing which adds fuel to the fire. A flawless cover of the Wipers’ 1980 power punk jam, “Tragedy” shows off a musical upbringing that places the group on the right track to power punk greatness. The only problem is that three songs aren’t nearly enough to satisfy anyone’s appetite for what the Hex Dispensers have to offer.

--Chad Radford

Atlas Sound vs. Dennis Palmer & Col. Bruce Hampton in ATL. Tues., Feb 19.

2008-02-22T02:13:00.016-05:00

Col. Bruce Hampton (left) and Dennis Palmer (right).

Its been a while since I've had to time my evening activities in order to make it to one show before hauling ass across town to catch another one at a different venue. Last week Two shows on Tues., Feb. 19th made for a particularly busy school night in Atlanta.

The first show: Atlanta avant-garde rock legend Col. Bruce Hampton teamed up with Dennis Palmer of Chattanooga, Tenn. improv. duo the Shaking Ray Levis for a one-off collaboration that was not to be missed. Hampton's influence as an improv/avant-garde guitarist stretches back to his days with the Hampton Grease Band in the late 1960s. He is a seminal figure in Atlanta's rock history whom also played the role of Morris in Billy Bob Thornton's '96 film, Sling Blade. His approach to rock music has always been quirky, and is a close cousin to Captain Beefheart's outsider-rock lurch.

Palmer is an improvisational musician of another color altogether. Palmer was an active character in Atlanta's art-punk/no-wave/experimental-music scene of the late '80s and early '90s, that is so often lamented as the "Destory All Music" era. As 1/2 of the Shaking Ray Levis, he is a distinctly Southern entity who draws influences from the hissing of summer lawns, the sound of insects and the fervor that drives Southern Baptist zealots to shout fire and brimstone from Chattanooga's street corners. As such he is prone to bouts of speaking in tongues during performances; usually just for affect.

Hampton speculates that he and Palmer have been kicking around the same musical circles, beginning with Howard Finster's Paradise Gardens in Summerville, GA., since the early 1980s. But Palmer clarifies that they didn't team up to play together until '99. Tonight's show at Eyedrum marks their first performance together as a duo.

Despite Hampton's stature Palmer was most definitely the star of the show. He was much more active and the various clicks, noises chirps and otherwise electronic sounds he churned out added character to Hampton's slow and subtle clusters of guitar tones and cartoonishly nonsensical rants. Hampton was much quieter than Palmer, and the two only seemed to occupy the same plane of silent musical telepathy at scattered moments. Not to sell Hampton short. He is a fascinating character, but his low-key strumming and ogre-like mumbles were undeniably out shined by Palmer.

Across town Bradford Cox held the Atlanta unveiling of the Atlas Sound Music Group, a live ensemble that he has gathered to add weight to his live performances. The group features Brian Foote (Kranky Records / Nudge), Adam Forkner (White Rainbow), Honey Owens (Valet) and Atlanta-based drummer/guitarist Stephanie Macksey.

In Atlas Sound's brief but distinctive catalogue Let The Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel is a decidedly sophisticated and technologically advanced affair. Cox's previous solo outings have been assemblages of 4-Track recordings and layers upon layers of looping and bouncing. Let The Blind Lead... represents one giant leap for Cox in terms of technology. To kick things up a level during live performance, the group plays catchy and ramshackle renditions of songs from the album, adding a flawed, human element to the music's pace. Live the sharp edges of songs, such as "Quarantined," "Bite Marks" and "Recent Bedroom" from Let The Blind Lead... were shrouded in a haze of topsy turvy drums, jangle and fuzz, and the morphine garage rock melodies of "Ativan" burst forth with more power than ever.

During the show Cox repeatedly riffed on the opening to Soundgarden's "Spoonman" but never followed through.

Cox's parents as well as his sister were in the audience and between songs he repeatedly asked his sister how she thought he was doing.

Seeing the songs from the album played out live gave Atlas Sounds a sense of irreverence and punk rock attitude, which is not to be found anywhere throughout the album. The live show gives a much needed boost of energy and enthusiasm to a record that is captivating and quite stunning, but is seemingly not one that would translate to such a powerful and fun show.

Pictured in the Atlas Sound photo no. 1: Adam Forkner (foreground), Honey Owens (middle) and Bradford Cox (background). Stephanie Macksey is on the drums and Brian Foote is just a smudge beside Bradford (stage left).

Pictured in Atlas Sound photo no. 2: Adam Forkner (foreground) Honey Owens (middle) Bradford Cox (background).

--Chad Radford

Chopper

2008-02-21T02:12:00.004-05:00

KVLT AS FVCK 7-inch
Die Slaughterhaus Records

Are you into wizards on motorcycles, mythical beasts and kung fu action? If so, Chopper’s KVLT AS FVCK 7-inch will kick you like a bionic round house to the face!

Jokes aside, it’s hard to tell where the trio of guitarist/vocalist George Asimakos (former Blame Game), bassist Collin Mee (Deerhunter) and drummer Lamar George draw the line between cheese and real metal muscle. On the A-side of this three-song single “Rolling Thvnder” is a cluster of chugs and chants that would make excellent theme music for a new generation of Transformers, ThunderCats or Ninja turtles.

On the flipside, “Oblivion to Thunderdome” and “Born to Loose” are noise-metal mantras of rhythm and dirge. Throw Unsane, Motorhead and Blue Oyster Cült into a blender and the outcome would sound like Chopper; too chaotic to be progressive and too hard to be fantasy metal.

--Chad Radford

Nick Cave & Warren Ellis

2008-02-12T14:50:00.000-05:00

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford
Mute Records

Nick Cave and Warren Ellis’ score to The Assassination of Jesse James… bares no resemblance to Cave’s standard M.O. Nor is it an Ennio Morricone-esque gallop across a dusky desert plane. And by comparison Jesse James takes on a much different approach to soundtrack work than what Cave and Ellis previously offered when teaming up to score to The Proposition.

As a writer Cave traditionally constructs narratives and builds characters in songs by incorporating elements of arty punk jams, gospel and spiritually afflicted blues to accentuate his lyrics. For this score Cave and longtime Bad Seed / Grinderman cohort and Dirty 3 comrade Ellis approach their craft sans words. Sad and ethereal tones culminate in pop song-length chapters, and a lingering violin, slow guitar sweeps and rainy day piano melodies embody layers of Jesse James’s tormented personality. The hook is the gorgeous and scenic quietude of the songs with which Cave and Ellis tell the story of such a captivating character without uttering a single word.

--Chad Radford

Originally published by Creative Loafing. Atlanta, GA.

Six Organs of Admittance

2008-01-22T23:03:00.000-05:00

Shelter from the Ash
Drag City

The apocalyptic folk strum and drone that binds every Six Organs of Admittance record is hard at work on Shelter from the Ash. But what sets this record apart is that vocalist/guitarist Ben Chasny channels these elements into traditional song forms.

Chasny is the master of stripping the shiny happy aura of an acoustic guitar to draw out a dark, natural resonance. "Alone with the Alone" lays the groundwork for an album that is all about communion with the dark matter of the universe. The shorter song lengths break up the Six Organs experience into digestible pieces, and lyrics in "Jade Like Wine" and "Final Wing" carry more weight than any of Chasny's previous outings. Elisa Ambrogio's (Magik Markers) hushed vocals shadow Chasny's voice. Their layered chants capture chemistry that is bleak and elegant, and brings Six Organs' M.O. to a fine point.

--Chad Radford

Wire

2008-01-21T18:15:00.000-05:00

Read & Burn 03
Pink Flag

Wire's chameleonlike transcendence of the post-punk cannon has always employed a militant policy of don't look back. That is, until the Read & Burn EPs materialized a quarter-century into the group's career. R&B 03 cuts the losses of Wire's spotty catalog of angular grooves and new-wave rubbish with a condensed hybrid of its many faces. Such Frankensteinian songcraft culminates in the alternating slow keyboard drones and staccato drumming of opening number "23 Years Too Late."

"Our Time" and "Desert Driving" expand into a slower, darker drift. This is the first peep we've heard from Wire in five years, and the time spent behind closed doors has served the group well. Read & Burn 03 is a captivating forerunner to whatever the group has in store, and all signs point to something much darker on the horizon.

--Chad Radford

Ween

2007-12-30T11:28:00.000-05:00

La Cucaracha
Rounder Records

To say that Ween’s La Cucaracha is a deranged album misses the point. Yes, it is totally fucking deranged, but after nine albums Deaner and Gener have developed a magical ability to transcend the normal, acceptable levels of weirdness and reach an entirely new plain of cognition. This is not weirdness for the sake of it, but a new and enlightened mode of thought. These guys are dads now, and though they’re not hiding out in the basement, strapped-in to the Scotchgard®-powered bong and drooling into the 4-Track anymore, the long-term effects of so many nights of said activities culminate here with ironic majesty.

It’s hard to get a grasp on the group’s reverse Beatles-esque transcendence. Dean and Gene are masters of any genre they choose to parody, be it country music, Jimmy Buffet-style dad rock, or raging Motorhead riffs. Nothing is sacred in the Ween cannon, but rather than sink into the realms of mustached concentration and stone-faced virtuosity, they have mastered the art of waving their dicks in the wind [note, if you don’t get the reference, listen to Ween’s ’97 album, The Mollusk]. However, they trick the listener by occasionally sneaking a truly great song of their own design into the silliness.

The songs on La Cucaracha are just as hilarious and bug-eyed as those of any of the group’s previous releases, but there is a subtly disturbing narrative lying just below the surface. By way of simple impressionism the album rides an emotional roller coaster through the storms and stresses that bind any healthy relationship between a woman and a man. But this is no concept album. La Cucaracha’s songs scatter in every direction, swaying through such fertile terrain as the introductory ‘70s game show horn blasts of “Fiesta,” (courtesy of David Sanborn) or the country stomp of “Learnin’ to Love.” However, if you’re paying attention the album does tell a story and it is no coincidence that it is bookended by two party anthems, “Fiesta,” and the final, decadent cut, “Your Party.”

Dean has gone on record to say that La Cucaracha is indeed a “party album.” But what exactly is being celebrated is never clear. The underlying subtext is as bold or disparate as you want it to be as songs, like “Sweetheart” and “Man and Woman” coalesce with impeccable songwriting and seemingly sincere sentiments... which can be more than a little suspect, coming from these guys.

Other songs, like the cock rock war cry “With My Own Bare Hands,” and the slow and predatory ballad “Object” move at the pace of unapologetic male wish fulfillment.
“Blue Balloon” is just good background music that’s crafted from the skewered pop sensibilities and drug-damaged glow of Ween’s musical vocabulary. At times La Cucaracha glides along, evoking the comfortable and glaringly bright production qualities of its predecessor, Quebec. But La Cucaracha is a much more ramped-up album that personifies this phase of the group’s career. Maturity is a factor in the group’s evolution, and Dean and Gene are definitely comfortable in their adult skins. Like the album’s title suggests, after 17 years, Ween just won’t go away. The group is going about its business, un-phased by the world, and that’s reason enough to celebrate.
--Chad Radford

This review appears in issue no. 48 (Winter 2008) of Signal To Noise. Thanks Pete!

Remembering Ben Eberbaugh (1980-2002) Five Years Later...

2007-12-27T10:50:00.000-05:00

(Pictured from left to right: Ben Eberbaugh, Joe Bradley, Jared Swilley, Cole Alexander)

As December 2007 draws to a close it has been brought to my attention that this month is the five-year anniversary of Ben Eberbaugh's death. Hard to believe that it has been so long. Ben was one of the earliest and most substantial guitar players and vocalists for the Black Lips; and he played a key role in getting the ball rolling for the group. His death came as a shock to everyone.

I knew him well. We worked together at an "alternative boutique" / clothing store in Little 5 Points, called Junkman's Daughter. Indeed they were dark days for both of us. At some point I quit. Ben was later fired for missing too many shifts, or something like that, and went on to get a job at The Majestic Diner on Ponce. We stayed in touch. He was the first person to tell me that the Black Lips were in talks with Greg Show from Bomp! which later culminated in the release of the group's first, self-titled record. Ben was also the one who always sought me out to coax me into writing something about their next show.

I found out about his death in a pretty harsh way. I had gone home to visit my friends and family in Iowa and Nebraska. It was a pre-holiday trip to avoid the chaos of traveling closer to Christmas time. When I came home there was a message on my voice mail from a Fox 5 reporter. It said to call him back. So I did. I assumed it was about some writing job for which I had applied somewhere down the line. I don't remember his name.

I called the buy back and he says, "Radford... Radford... Oh yeah! I was calling you about the Black Lips and Ben Eberbaugh." So I say "yes, I know them well. What do you need to know?" Without missing a beat the guy says "Oh, you must not know yet. Ben died in a car accident. Hate to break the news to you. Gotta Go!" Click...

That was pretty hardcore. I remember thinking that he must of been drunk or that it was the result of some sort of negligence on his part. But it wasn't He was hit by some woman who was driving the wrong way down GA 400.

There is no way to know for sure, but at the time people were speculating that she was going the wrong way down the highway to avoid paying the .75 cent toll. But who knows.

Here is a story that I wrote about the accident just a few days later for Creative Loafing.

Shortly before 3 a.m. Sunday, Dec. 1, Ben Eberbaugh, the 22-year-old guitarist for local band the Black Lips, was killed when a motorist driving the wrong way on Ga. 400 slammed into his vehicle. According to Fulton County police reports, Jennifer Dawn Swierzynski, 29, was traveling northbound in the southbound lanes when her Toyota Camry crashed head-on into Eberbaugh's Ford Explorer. Both drivers died on impact.

The Black Lips, who have developed a reputation as Atlanta's rowdiest rock act, were to have kicked off a tour of the Midwest and East Coast with fellow Atlanta band, the Carbonas. The tour was to promote the release of the Black Lips' full-length debut on famed punk label Bomp Records, and was set to kick off Monday, Dec. 2, with a show at MJQ Concourse. But on Monday night the club's doors remained closed to the public to give Eberbaugh's friends a place to gather and reminisce about his life.

"He was one of the sweetest and most sincere people I knew," says close friend Valery Lovely, a local DJ and photographer. "He's the last person I would have ever expected anything bad to happen to."

Despite the tragedy, the Black Lips plan on carrying out the tour. They will leave Atlanta after Eberbaugh's funeral, which is being held Wednesday, Dec. 4, in Roswell (further details were not available at press time).

"We're still going to go on tour," says Black Lips vocalist Cole Alexander. "It was something we were all so excited about doing and I know he would never have wanted us to give it up."

-Chad Radford, Creative Loafing. Published 12.04.02

That’s not art! With RRIICCEE Vincent Gallo finds purpose in directionless music.

2007-12-04T16:23:00.000-05:00

RRIICCEE: (Left to right) Rebecca Casabian, Eric Erlandson, Vincent Gallo and Nikolas Haas.

It’s hard to know what to make of it when Vincent Gallo blurts out that the biggest insult one can hurl at him is to call his films or music “art.” It’s an odd declaration for the 46 year old musician, actor, writer and director of such films as Buffalo 66 and The Brown Bunny. His works are touted as sleazy descendants of such art house luminaries as John Cassavetes and Jean-Luc Godard, but for Gallo the comparisons couldn’t be further off-base. “Art is something that is done without purpose and I have a very clear purpose,” he says. “I’m making music and films for enjoyment. I would never do something without purpose.”

His words require some explanation, especially when considering that his new musical project RRIICCEE (not pronounced like the food, but spelled out) is a free form ensemble that goes on-stage each night to perform spontaneous compositions that are free of any pre-written songs, melodies or genre allegiances. Sound pretentious? It wouldn’t bare the fingerprint of Vincent Gallo if it didn’t. After all, this is the same guy who offers his sperm for sale under the merchandise link on his website (www.vgmerchandise.com) for the paltry sum of $1,000,000.00. In the ‘80s he played in the no wave band Gray, alongside the king of pomp, artist Jean-Michel Basquiat. He also cast himself in his film The Brown Bunny in which he receives a real, on-screen blow job from actress Chloe Sevigny. Post-modern megalomania is his calling card. But the genuine enthusiasm in his voice and his methodically defined intentions that he spells-out over the phone from his home in Los Angeles bring the implications of such a band full-circle.

The line-up for the group features Nikolas Haas (drum kit and a drum machine), Hole guitarist Eric Erlandson (bass, drum machine and electronic gadgets), Rebecca Casabian (keyboards) and Gallo (melotrons, melodica, guitar and bass). Needless to say the group’s approach does not jive with the idea of recording, and to date RRIICCEE has no plans to record any material for public consumption.

The aim of RRIICCEE is to capture a pure, beautiful and in-the-moment musical experience. Gallo is delicate with his words when he explains this all, being careful not to employ that dreaded “a” word. “The goal is always to make work that is better than yourself,” he adds. “I am a buffoon. If my work is only as good as me, then it is buffoonery. So I wanted to go past myself.”

This is not experimental music made for the sake of experimentation. As Gallo explains, improvisation is not the right word for the group’s brand of spontaneous composition and performance. “Improvisation means committing to a musical form or vocabulary,” he says. “We’re creating composition, which means we need to be conscious and reflective. We are spontaneous and we are inventing, but we’re not wallowing in scales. We’re trying to organize structures that we recognize in the moment, that make compositional sense and build upon those. 'Conscious' is the best word for what we’re doing.”

Gallo wields the word “conscious,” almost as a weapon as he blasts the average band for what he describes as “pantomiming cabaret” and performing the same songs and going through the same motions every night.

RRIICCEE strives to break free by not placing any limitations on what happens on-stage. As dangerous and self-indulgent as this sounds, he stands by the group’s drive not to be musical contrarians, but to create beautiful music as a proactive band. “I am trying to be as open as possible,” he adds. “If I’m not making music that is better than me or beyond me being the asshole that I am, then I’m establishing a level and then eventually I will create my own cliché and I’m hoping to avoid that as much as possible. There are a lot of risks with that, but I would still rather go see a band play a show that was harder to get into, than see a show that was totally predictable.”
Chad Radford

Getting the chance to do an interview with Vincent Gallo for this story was exciting if not unnerving. While working on the story anyone to whom I mentioned Gallo’s name hit me off with some variation of the following: a.) Ewww, he's a conservative Republican… b.) Ha ha that guy sells his sperm on the internet… or c.) Dude, man. Ask him about the Chloe scene… was that really for real?!?!

Throughout our conversation none of these things came up. Gallo dominated the phone call. He was not the combative or the unpleasant tormentor or the pretentious jerk off that many people speculated that he would be. If anything it was pretty much like talking to one of my bros. There was a genuine and infectious sense of enthusiasm in his voice from moment that I answered the phone. His ideas are sound, but I had an undeniable sense that he was staving off wide-eyed mania when he got ramped-up about what ever he was talking about. I really wanted to convey that underlying manic tone to his words, which is hard to pull off in a short feature for a weekly newspaper. To do so I have added the unedited transcript of our conversation, which follows:

Phone rings:

Vincent Gallo: Hello, yes… Is this Chad Radford, the world famous journalist from the Atlanta arts weekly, Creative Loafing?

Chad Radford: This is he.

Oh, so this is Chad Radford?

Yes.

So you mean to tell me that I am to believe that I am speaking with thee Chad Radford, that’s what you’re telling me?

Yep, you got it.

So I’ve got the right guy then?

Yes sir.

Chad, you know what?

What?

You have some really amazingly beautiful women in Atlanta, you know that?

Yes, I do know that, I see them everyday.

I mean totally amazing, like nowhere else on earth, not like here anyway. I mean we have beautiful women here in LA, but not like Atlanta.

Yep. Man, I live here and I deal with it every day.

Amazing women… Just amazing. So what else do you know, Chad?

Well I’m writing a story about this new project that you have called RRIICCEE, which I assume is pronounced like the food, rice, correct?

Well, I pronounce it R-R-I-I-C-C-E-E. However, other people have called it Rice. When people say that I don’t take offense, but it’s not how I see it.

That’s par for the course when you give a group a name that isn’t something totally cut and dry.

Yes it sure is. When I thought about a band name, the concept of the name was to create imagery and branding that would transcend itself; that would be both extremely modern but esoteric. To come up with a logo or a brand name in that way is very challenging. When people get together and they decide to name themselves they usually relate to things that are small-minded or personal, or things that have to do with their taste. Things that are only as good as the people involved. The goal here is always to make work that is better than yourself. Me, I am a buffoon. I’m an idiot. If my work is only as good as me, then it is buffoonery. So I wanted to go past myself. To create a brand that is more complex, deeper, more philosophical, more iconic and more profound than my own small mindedness. I felt that this was the best that I can come up with for now. I hired this guy named Doug Boyd who’s a very upper guy in creative advertising. He’s one of the smartest guys that I know. He does big conventional advertising for like Gucci and things like that. He’s the creative director for companies like that. I hired him to do the logo for the band name. He did a really beautiful job.

That’s the first time that I have collaborated with anybody, graphically, for a long time. For 20 years I have done the layouts, the fonts, the designs for all of my albums and posters etc. This is the first time that I have chosen to connect with somebody else in that way and I felt that he went past my abilities, which is not that hard, but still it was nice to work with him and come up with something like that.

Well, it’s a pretty simple logo and that goes a long way in branding. The fast food chains do a good job with that… The Golden Arches are recognizable in any language...

That’s right. It has to work in several ways: It has to work in retrospect. It has to work on cases of things. It has to fit into other graphic designs as you change and as you grow. The graphic has to be able to step forward, into or behind other things as you grow and change without too much conflict. Everything that I do is sort of important to me, and it’s important to my partners in this project. So when we make decisions -- maybe they’re done with humor or in some sort of spirit of fun -- they are always very thorough and very well thought through; what ever they are.

There is so much protocol in music, and in creativity and even in administration. Especially administration, in the way governments regulate and litigate, and the ways industries; the music industry or the film industry will job things out or organize things that to just be a less unconscious person, and more of a reflect person you start to realize how unconscious a lot of decision are made. Let’s send it out to this company to make the posters, send it over here to do the process. This is where the tapes are made and so on. If you stop to think about it, the status quo is not that spectacular. It’s certainly not the best potential for mankind.

I get the impression that what we’re talking about here is what RRIICCEE is all about.

Yes, the band certainly reflects that spirit.

And you think that improvisation is not the right word for what the group does?

That’s right, because improvisation means committing to a musical form or vocabulary. Jazz guys are improvising in the jazz vocabulary. Rock guys are improvising in the rock vocabulary. Even blues guys are improvising in the blues vocabulary. They’re soloing around blues things. The goal here is to create composition, which means we need to be conscious and reflective and in the moment. We are spontaneous and we are inventing. But we’re doing so with extreme consciousness and reflectivity, so we’re not wallowing in scales freely. Instead were trying to organize structures that we recognize in the moment that make compositional sense and then building on those.

What sort of instruments are you guys playing?

Nikolas Hass is coping with mostly percussive things. He in a sense has the most traditional kit in that he has a drum kit. He will move around it and mic it and strike it, maybe sometimes very classically and sometimes not. It’s important that you know that we’re not doing anything based on reaction. If he’s playing drums in a somewhat traditional sense it’s because they sound really beautiful and if it doesn’t sound really beautiful than he will move into playing something that does. But he won’t be doing anything experimental just to show how contrary he is. We’re not a reactionary project. We’re still proactive. Still coming from the heart. Conscious is the best word for what we’re doing.

But yeah, he plays drums and drum machines.

Eric Erlandson plays a lot of effects, drum machine, bass and more electronic things, gadget kind of things.

Rebecca Casabian plays mostly keyboarded instruments.

I play melotrons, melodica and guitar and bass.

When you see bands on stage, pantomiming their cabaret act, no matter how cool they began or no matter how sensitive they may be, on some level they let themselves become unconscious to allow themselves to play this cabaret act. And the minutia that they get caught up in and repetitive variations that they get caught up in are all very personal to them. But it’s not authentic. Rick Rubin has a lot of pull in the night club scene. We used to go out a lot and see bands here and there. He would insist on only watching from the side of the stage. He’s a pampered person, like King Tut or something. So he comes in and everything has to be lubricated for him. He doesn’t want any kind of confrontation, so we would lubricate him to the side of the stage and watch one song per band. There were several years where I was only seeing one song from a band and seeing it from the side of the stage. What that gave me, unfortunately, was the ability to see clearly how much bands are unconscious and just pantomiming cabaret. They seemed ridiculous. Even their heartfelt moves were repeated, seemed contrived and habitual. It would make me embarrassed to watch them. People with whom I was friends and liked their recorded work.

Johnny Ramone who was my close friend for a long time and who gave me so much joy from sharing his experiences, talked about every show he had seen, and he had seen everybody, and I mean everybody… He saw with Page, without page, just everybody. The Beatles, everybody. He told me the best show he had ever seen in his life… He saw the Doors play. They came out two hours late. The band came on and just started a riff. Half-an-hour later Morrison came out and sang maybe one line of a song, and just started screaming ‘fuck the pigs!’ They had to settle everybody down and the band started play again and he laid down for another half-an-hour and then jumped up and started screaming ‘fuck the pigs’ again. A riot broke out and they had to end the show. None of it was contrived and none of it was faked. It was all everybody reflecting off of everyone else. It was all an example of what the collective consciousness was riding on at that moment. It was so pure. Cut to 35 years later and I’m hanging out with PJ Harvey on the East coast and she’s playing her last show on a tour with U2. To say thank you to the band U2 she decides to cover one of their songs. She does a four-minute version of one of their songs as a tribute to the band. Thank you for touring together. Here’s me playing a piece of your music to show that I like and respect what you’re doing. U2’s response to that… The Edge was back stage, breaking things. Just smashing things because she put the U2 appearance four minutes over schedule. That’s what music has become. The stage crew bad vibes you. They want to get home and when you say that you’re going on they say ‘what’s your stage clock?’ What time are you going to be done? It’s all so ugly.

You were around and making music in New York during the no wave era and a lot of what you’re saying to me feels very much like the No Wave spirit.

On some levels yes, and on other levels no. Sonic Youth, who are an extension of that and who fantasize about having been from that period of time, even though they were just people in the crowd, you can tell that they play in some musical clichés. The play the same sets and they jam… like Neil Young jam. Thurston is one of the smartest and funniest people that I have ever met in my whole life, and Kim is the greatest girl that I have ever known in my whole life but the band still takes three minute pop songs and stretches them out into the Neil Young-type jams in an attempt to reference the no wave.

Back to the no wave thing, those bands were getting up there and playing their songs. Their songs were more original, more iconoclast and more entertaining to me, but if any of those bands were on tour they were doing cabaret. And the bands who emulate them now, like Magic Markers, and bands like that, even though they are very dynamic, they’re still doing songs. And for example, the Magic Markers new record, which I think is lame, like some singer songwriter bullshit. Alicia has got a lot more dynamic range and potential than a lame record like that.

What I mean by no wave is the sense of irreverence and energy, and the grainy quality of the music capturing a really distinctive sense of grit and spontaneity.

Yeah, but if you listen to DNA’s record, or a Contortions record or a Mars record, they’re still playing the same songs. If you listen to the Beatles in 1964 and then in 1968, they grow so much philosophically, in their lyrics and in their musical vocabulary, in their influences, in their diets, in their hair cuts and in their lifestyles, and their shoes… Bands seem to sort of level off and not grow. I am trying to be as open as possible and yes, I am coming from that spirit and that background but if I’m not making music that is better than me or beyond me being the asshole that I am, then I’m establishing a level and then eventually I will create my own cliché and I’m hoping to avoid that as much as possible. There are lot of risks with that. There are a lot of downsides. There are going to be a lot of shows where things come together less dynamically. But I would still rather go see a band play a show that was harder to get into, as opposed to seeing a show that was totally predictable.

You’re not recording anything with this group?

The idea of recording the show would only be for personal enjoyment and to reflect on the path. If we go in and record music… I have a very fine recording studio that I am working toward… if we do that, then that recorded music will be like our live shows, a documentation of that show. It won’t be like an enhancement to try to modify or clean up half-baked ideas. I t won’t have anything to do with the Rick Rubin production or the musical clichés around what a lot of the big producers are doing. It will be more like the documentation of the creation, rather than an interpretation of a creation.

This sounds sort of like a John Cage kind of philosophy.

I never knew John personally, and I didn’t relate to his music personally, so I don’t really know about that. But I’ll tell you what I do know... What I really listen to and what I play have nothing to do with one another.

That’s interesting, because a lot of musicians like to wear their influences on their sleeves and really get some mileage out of them…

The things that I like are so far fetched from what I create that it couldn’t be any more far fetched, and the films that I enjoy… And that’s why when people watch my films and reference things like John Cassavettes or whatever they connect me with, they have no clue what I would watch. And for the record I watch movies mostly on air planes. And I would watch a Sandy Bullock film 1,000 times before I would go see some bullshit, like The Squid and…. Oh what was the name of that stupid movie that came out last year?

The Squid and the Whale?

Yeah, that’s the one! Or you know whatever is out there and whatever thing that takes a position like that. When I’m making music or making films, in my mind I am making entertainment in the same spirit as some of my influences. So let’s say I wrote Michael Jackson, which I do. He’s one of my favorites of all time. So let’s say I am listening to a song like “Butterflies,” or “I Can’t help It If I Wanted to,” which I’m really into right now.

That’s a great song…

I am so into that song right now. In my mind, that’s how I’m connecting to them, I’m connecting on a certain melody that I am seeing, or a certain minor chord that I am hearing. So when I’m playing them back for people that’s what I assume they’re hearing. But they’re hearing things that are natural abstractions that are natural to what comes out of me that I am less conscious of. I’m surprised when they interpret them in that way. When they think of it as avant-garde or difficult or artistic…. Oh god, when they call it art it is so insulting to me. That’s not where I’m coming from at all. Art is something that is done without purpose and I have a very clear purpose. I’m making music or films for enjoyment. I would never do something with out purpose. It’s so hurtful when people write me e-mails and try to relate to me like that. I wish Michael Jackson would write me an e-mail, instead of someone who sends me a tape or a reel of something that’s very dark and hard to watch and says ‘I’m an artist like you, man. Fuck the Hollywood scene and all of that.’ That’s not where I’m coming from. I’m not reactionary like that. If we put out a record I am going to assume that it will sell 100,000,000 copies because everyone will think it’s so beautiful. But when it only sells 10 copies I will think wow, how odd that people see it differently. I won’t be disappointed, but I will think that it is odd.

Right, and there is no way to gauge anything like that, either.

No, I gauge it like this. I went into the woods and found the most beautiful apple tree I have ever seen. It has the most beautiful apple sand they taste so good… I say ‘come with me’ and I show people the apple tree and they say ‘I don’t know, it’s okay.’ And then you say yeah, but just taste this apple ad they so, ‘it’s okay, it tastes like an apple and I’m not really into apples. Let’s go back to McDonalds, I really need some French fires,’ and your like oh, okay. You’re just surprised because it was so clear and beautiful to you, so you just visit that place alone.

When we’re on stage we’re going to be trying to make the most beautiful music possible. If you see us on stage and you think that we’re just making noise or doing something difficult just to abstract something, than you let me know. I would be really surprised if you felt that way.

Have you caught yourself playing the same sort of musical phrases or anything that resembles a signature sound?

It hasn’t happened in the past, but I will tell you what always will happen. You will always have a limitation by where your taste is, and this happens with any connoisseur. Say if you are a collector of hand bags. Your first ones will be the alligator ones and then eventually ten years later you will realize that the plain gray bag with no latches is the most beautiful one. As you continue on something you will identify things as more or less beautiful.

And first of all, I can’t read or understand music in that way, so I can’t repeat things anywhere. Even the When album, which is the most conventional musical form that I ever committed to, I have to have other people show me how to play the songs. It’s like learning someone else’s songs. None of it makes sense to me. In fact, when people show it to me, I’m like ‘oh wow, cool. Interesting… How I thought of that… I don’t know.’ It’s so simple, but … when I play with people who are more… who have an easier time with musical forms that are more common, people who can play all kinds of music and learn records. When they hear my record they can learn the chords but they have a hard time getting the feel or the timing, because it’s not structured… It doesn’t stay in the same time. For me to say hey, can you play “Waiting so Long” by Eddie Money ,these people would say yeah, no problem and they would nail it in one take. But if I would say play “Laura” it would take a week to get the feel and the flow and the harmonics. That came from being very conscious and so it’s hard to get back there sometimes.

Do you buy a lot of records?

Well yeah, I have 20,000 of them. I love to buy records.

That’s a lot of records….

I would say 5,000 of them I haven’t even listened to. But you know you feel like you would die if you didn’t have them.

You buy mostly vinyl?

Yeah. I don’t have any CDs. The clanging of a CD makes me mad. Just to hear the plastic, but I do like to hear some super sonic hard rive. The only limitation of digital is software. And the only problem with software is that people are still writing linear software. When they start moving into algarhythms digital will really not be a problem. The circle will be a spiriling line. It won’t be a bunch of lines, but a circle. One day I fantisize about having an interface with a button and a list and that’s it. I don’t want to have to scroll through everything. Like a juke box where you have a piece of paper and you punch in I23 and boom. Even an iPod is too much for me, and that’s one of the best interfaces that anyone has ever come up with. Even that is too complex. I want a piece of paper in alphabetical order…

I wish Macintosh or Apple – those animals, those barbarians, those vultures -- were that consistent with all of their other software and interfaces and would make them all that good. But they won’t because they’re caught up in preserving that learning curve. Imagine anybody who is any good with computer softaware getting 100,000 calls every week from his friends who need help. What kind of world do we live in? What the fuck have we done to ourselves?

Chad I think I have to go because I’m late for the next guy, but I hope to see you at the show.

I will be there, man. Thank you for your time.

No way, man. Thank you…. Buh Bye!

What Lies Beyond

2007-11-30T12:20:00.000-05:00

Talking With Lou Barlow About Dinosaur Jr.’s Past And His Future

In the Spring of 2005 Dinosaur Jr. rose from the grave more than 15 years after the original line-up of singer/guitarist J. Mascis, bassist Lou Barlow and drummer James Patrick Murphy (A.K.A. “Murph”) parted ways. The bitter break-up was not the end of Dinosaur Jr., but the end of the group’s golden era, which is fossilized in three seminal American alt. punk records, Dinosaur (1985), You’re Living All Over Me (1987) and Bug (1988). The years surrounding these albums were plagued by egos and infighting, which lead to a great schism between Mascis and Barlow. The tensions that swelled between them, which ultimately led to Barlow’s expulsion from Dinosaur Jr. are now the stuff of legends.

After those tumultuous years, Mascis carried on with Dinosaur Jr. to release five studio albums and dozens of singles, EPS and live recordings while Barlow carried on in the groups Sebadoh, Sentriddoh and the Folk Implossion. Over time Dinosaur Jr. sunk deeper into the muddy mire of Mascis’ blown-speaker hybrid of slow punk and classic rock-damaged songwriting. In the meantime the tape loops and experimental leanings that were born in early Dinosaur songs, like “Raisans” and “Poledo” blossomed into the artier pop textures of Barlow’s groups. A lot had changed over the years, so much so that the original Dinosaur Jr. line-up was nothing more than a distant memory, never to be repeated. But everything changed in April of 2005 when the group announced that the original trio was reuniting for a full-fledged tour across the country.

When asked about the possibility of reconvening to record another album, at the time J., Lou and Murph. all hesitated, saying it would most likely never happen. But fate had other plans and in May of this year Dinosaur sent tremors throughout the indie rock world with the release of Beyond, eleven brand new songs that pick up the pieces where the group left off circa Bug.

From the opening, fuzzed-out ark of “Almost Ready,” the familiar and frazzled pop harmonies drowning in post-punk sludge give a rejuvenating blast to the group’s sound. But there’s a relaxed quality that takes shape as the album unfolds. Any and all sense of turmoil that bound the group’s original output is washed in a haze of sunny melodies.

What are most telling about the group’s course of evolution are the two Barlow-penned songs, “Back to Your Heart” and “Lightning Bulb.” Both bare the distinctive mark of Barlow’s bitter-sweet reflection, filtered through the noisy and aggressive tones of Dinosaur’s footprints. Gone is any sense of malevolence, experimentation and any impression of the tension that once caused him to get kicked out of the group. In its place is the presence of a more confident and mature sense of chemistry and catharsis that quashes all of the issues that were once left unresolved.

Chad Radford: By now you’ve have had time to ruminate on Dinosaur Jr. Has your perspective on the group changed?

LB: Not really. It still feels the same. Doing the record was a nice surprise. I was psyched that J. was into it and it was cool that he was willing to put himself up to doing a record like this, considering everything that has taken place. He’s been doing Dinosaur Jr. for ages. It was a nice surprise that everyone was into it, but I don’t know if it changed the way I feel about the band.

CR: It seems like you are all getting along better than ever before.

LB: Yeah, I find it easy to hang out with those guys, considering how much time we’ve spent together.

CR: Did this album come together differently from the previous three Dinosaur Jr. albums with this line-up?

LB: We did it at J’s house. The recording schedule was very relaxed. We did it over five months. There was nothing like that back in the day. It was like ‘okay, we got four days in the studio, hurry up…’ The second record we pieced together after a few studio sessions, but they were short sessions. In that way it was totally different. As the record started to take shape I thought okay, I can write a song or two. I have been writing songs ever since I was kicked out of the band and I am a lot more confident now than I was back then, so I can take some ideas to the Dinosaur alter and make an offering and see what happens. There is really no comparison. We are also a lot older and a lot more relaxed these days.

CR: Your songwriting on Beyond is pretty straight-forward. There is none of the noise or experimentation that you brought to You’re living All Over Me and Bug. Did you get all of that out of your system with Sebadoh?

LB: It would seem gratuitous if I were to do it now. I would be like ‘oh… I have to get in there and put my tape loops in now…’ I did it back then because it was very personal to me. With Sebadoh a lot of what I did became more segregated. I started doing all of that tape stuff on my solo recordings. With Folk Implossion I got into samplers. At the time when I was doing Dinosaur there was such an urgency to bring every idea to the table, and it was just the spirit of the times. Things were more experimental at the time. With Sebadoh I found my legs and switched to just playing a regular six-string guitar, which led to me playing these more standard song structures. Doing the tape loops now doesn’t have the same emotional weight for me. That stuff has to come from a very emotional place or it just seems like ‘hey, here’s my tape loops, look at me, I’m experimental!’ It rings phony to me… A lot of experimental music rings that way to me. When it’s really self-conscious it’s really unappealing.

CR: Has Dinosaur continued writing songs? Do you have more material waiting to be released?

LB: No. If word came down that we were doing another record I would start thinking about ideas that I want to bring to the band. But right now I am writing, playing guitar and recording demos. I think I’m ready to do a solo record for the beginning of next year.

CR: Do you think we’ll see another Sebadoh record?

LB: I really hope so. When we did the last tour Eric [Gaffney] was hot to do all kinds of stuff. He was really excited and was trying to teach us all kinds of new songs. Jason and I have to find time to do it. Jason is touring with the Fiery Furnaces. He has also become sort of a recording engineer / off-the-cuff producer guy and we live at opposite ends of the country. But I would really like to do it.

CR: You made it happen with Dinosaur, which seems like a much greater challenge than a Sebadoh reunion.

LB: Yeah and I have to say that that was a really big inspiration for me. When that worked out I thought okay, why not. Now it would be really fun to do Sebadoh, and especially after doing Dinosaur, Sebadoh was a real blast. It felt really free. We played quieter and talked to the audience. It was liberating all over again.

CR: You in particular have been very active as of late. There have been the Dinosaur Jr. and Sebadoh reunions. The Dinosaur Jr. and Sebadoh reissues, the reissue of the record by your first band, Deep Wound… What prompted all of this?

LB: I think it was fatherhood that was coinciding with going broke. When my wife got pregnant I realized, holy shit. I live in LA and I can’t support myself. Magically everything started coalescing at that moment. I finished my solo record in pretty quick order and it worked out well for me. It came out on Merge and that did Okay. I got to tour on my own and it worked out well. The Dinosaur thing came together... All of this stuff came together, but probably my wife getting pregnant was the real kick in the ass. It brought back my desire to make music. It wasn’t just for money, but the desire to put out records and tour. Not that I ever lost that, but there was a period where it was hard to get anyone excited about anything I was doing, including the people I was playing with and working for. It felt like I was pushing a rock up a hill. It was great to take back the power.

CR: What’s next?

LB: I’m going to finish the solo record and organize some Sebadoh reunions. J.’s wife just had a baby, so we’ll see how that sits with him and what he wants to do. He can do another Dinosaur record with or without me. He’s got a great studio in his house that people are coming to now and he can just sit back and do studio work. It’s a really mellow place that’s not much like a studio at all. It’s more like a bunch of shit in somebody’s attic.

Black Moth Super Rainbow

2007-11-22T13:00:00.000-05:00

Dandelion Gum
Graveface

There is a grainy, Technicolor aesthetic wrapped around Black Moth Super Rainbow’s brand of day-glow, psychedelic pop that glows with a dull hue on Dandelion Gum, the group’s fourth proper full-length. The pleasant pace and fuzzed-out electro qualities of BMSR’s songs are sometimes misleading. Electronics are only a small part of what the group does, but never has this been more apparent than with this record. At a glance the group comes across as a whimsical, lo-fi cousin to a nebulous group, like Boards of Canada, only slightly drug-damaged.

As the slow motion melodies and scrapping, vocoded voice in “Forever Heavy” phase into the immediacy of the warm, acoustic strum of “Step into My Mouth and Breathe the Stardust,” the transition is mind-altering and this is no accident. BMSR has reached a higher level of cognition with its minimal rhythms and maximized textures than what the group has previously not attained.

“Spinning Cotton Candy in a Shack Made of Shingles” reaches a noisy and melancholy level of emotional depth that didn’t seem to be a part of BMSR’s cannon until now. “Dripping Eye” pushes the levels of the group’s antiquated instruments to epic new heights, and the jazzy, Euro techno blast of “Lost Picking Flowers in the Woods” becomes the defacto dance floor hit. It is at once bouncy and cheesy while walking a line of dark psychedelic grooves. The scratchy surface noises and clunky aspects of the album give just as much to the songs as do the childlike melodies and metric rhythms. Dandelion Gum is BMSR’s first offering where all of these elements meld seamlessly into a consistent pop form that transcends kitsch and experimentation to coalesce in a truly colorful and truly great sound.

--Chad Radford

Ponys at Lenny's Bar, Atlanta, GA. Thursday, October 25. 2007

2007-11-14T15:39:00.000-05:00

Halloween at Lenny's (Atlanta, GA 2007)

2007-11-02T11:50:00.000-04:00

Knife and the 4th Ward Daggers

The Spooks (We were all warned by the sound guy just before the group started: "If you don't like animal blood on you, please step away from the stage..." I'm not sure if I was hit with more pigs' blood, sweat, spit, beer spray or drippage from the air conditioner during the Spooks' set... Probably a combination of all of the above.)

The King Khan and BBQ Show

Emcee Halloween spreading awareness to stop the senseless slaughter of thousands of pumpkins every Halloween.

Harpies in the Night (It's true, the Misfits do for me what things like baseball, church and America's Next Most Smartest Supermodel do for the pedestrian thirty-something, like myself. What's funny is that all of these other things remind me of what pushed me to so wholeheartedly embrace a band like the Misfits in the first place, so many years ago. I have a feeling that Harpies in the Night (a Misfits cover band) plays Misfits' songs better than the Misfits ever played them live. You don't hear the guitars squelching out of tune at the end of every song, which is kind of a silly thing to bring up -- if you like the Misfits than you like music that's full of mistakes. But it was noticeable how well the group tore through songs like "Hybrid Moments," "Vampira" and "Horror Business." They've had a lifetime of practice, much longer than the Misfits ever had, and Harpies are better off for it.

Beanstock (or Beanstalk)...

2007-11-02T10:12:00.000-04:00

No one really knows if the proper name for Bean Summer’s five-day music festival at Lenny’s Bar is “Beanstock” or “Beanstalk.” It appears differently on every flyer, web posting and e-mail that goes out, and that’s not a mistake. “Spelling is a cheap trick used by the upper classes,” Bean laughs from his downtown art studio. “I have dyslexia, so to me both ways are correct. I have also found over the years that the more I misspell things, the more attention they get. Ands besides, it wouldn’t be ‘Beanstock’ or ‘Beanstalk’ or without all of the errors,” he adds, recalling several encounters with agitated English majors and journalists berating him for his grammatical discrepancies; such as right now.

This slapdash M.O. earns the Lenny’s promoter every comparison to a character from the pages of a William Faulkner novel. He’s a mellow, working class artist who explores a universe of sound using electronic toys as instruments in the band Toy Party Attack. At any given show at Lenny’s he can be seen navigating the room, PBR in hand. He stops for a quick greeting before moving on to take care of business. Even at his 29th birthday party at the Drunken Unicorn last Monday night, he made a brief appearance before heading back to Lenny’s by 10 p.m.

Beanstock boasts performances from nearly 30 mostly local bands, and kicks-off with an experimental music night at Eyedrum on Tues., Nov. 6th. The show is a CD-R release party for a new Toy Party Attack recording. Other bands on the bill include Atlanta acts Club of Rome and Suit Cases, as well as a performance from Canadian art / noise terrorists, AIDS WOLF.

From there the festival moves to Lenny’s and peaks with a performance on the following night by reformed Chicago-based math rock monster, Don Caballero.
The festival is not a celebration of Bean the man, but of the community in which he is involved. “I set up the festival to celebrate a week in the life of booking,” he says. “I wasn’t able to have every great local band play because of booking politics and touring, but I was able to take one week and celebrate what has happened in my life for the past several years. This is about everyone who makes art, plays music and performs live in the City of Atlanta; it’s celebration of our life as artists.”

So Beanstock (or Beanstalk) is dedicated to you in name only?

Yes, pretty much. We came up with the name at 4 in the morning one night during Corndogorama. This event is dedicated to Steve Miller (the old homeless war vet that used to live at the old Lenny's). It’s dedicated to Dottie (from whom the bar was bought), and to Rev. Larry, and Jack. Not many people know about the real people that come to Lenny's but they have rich histories in Cabbagetown, the old Forth Ward and real Grant Park. Before it became hip or cool to live in this area, it was a rough place with wild spirit.

It’s the history of outlaw music and the spirit of the old Lenny's and Dotties. It's why on Saturday it’s going to be $5 during the day with outlaw country music playing. It goes well with Anna Kramer, and many of the other headliners. It’s this spirit that I hear in ATL hip-hop and underground rock music today.

How did you pick the bands for the line-up?
Half of the bands I asked and the other half I just told them that they were playing. The line-up changed and it is changing daily. When you work with over 200 different people or a large numbers of bands everything is always in a state of flux.
I have the Roller Girls performing and I want to get more art involved as the festival develops over the coming years.

Will this become an annual event?
Yes, I want this to be a constantly evolving event that changes and dramatically develops. I will be doing video and musical performances throughout the event. I printed over 5000 Flyers to give out to help push my upcoming art show at Beep Beep Gallery on November 24th. Like all of my events 90% of the door money is going to the performing artists and other involved with the events. 10% goes back to my promotions team who put up flyers for the events. I am a strong believer in taking care of the artists and bands performing.

This year I am going to be really pushing my upcoming show at Beep Beep Gallery. And I will be doing a noise performance at the beginning of event with CD-R release of my band Toy party Attack.

-- Chad Radford

Beanstock takes place at Eyedrum and Lenny’s. Tues., Nov. 6-Sat., Nov. 10. For complete information, including admission and schedule line-up look online at www.lennysbar.com

The 2007 Atlanta Laptop Battle Championship is on @ Lenny’s!

2007-10-17T16:15:00.000-04:00

It’s that time of year once again when Atlanta’s finest amateur computer music heads leave the safety of their bedrooms to compete in a battle of wits, skill and mouseplay at the Atlanta Laptop Battle III final competition.

Eight of city’s finest laptop virtuosos who have thus far made it through two semi-final competitions earlier this year are now going head-to-head for the grand prize: over $1,000 in software and a ticket to Seattle to compete in the National Laptop Battle Championship this December.

The aliases for this year’s eight finalists include: Andrew Provine, Charlie P. (both of whom perform together in the band Random Rabbit), pH., Josh Clayton (DJ for WREK/91.1FM’s “The Mobius” show), Dr, Maximilian Reinhart, El Hadron, Citizen Green and Poodleface. These bold souls will converge upon Lenny's to do battle for the crown of Atlanta’s 2007 Laptop champion.

The winner will be crowned by a panel of three judges, whom this year's ATL Laptop Battle organizer and last year’s winner Matt “Threv” Simpson describes as thus:

Jason Freeman (www.jasonfreeman.net) - Jason Freeman's works break down conventional barriers between composers, performers and listeners, using cutting-edge technology and unconventional notation to turn audiences and musicians into compositional collaborators. Freeman received his B.A. in music from Yale University and his M.A. and D.M.A. in composition from Columbia University. He recently joined the faculty at the Georgia Institute of Technology, where he is an assistant professor in the music department.

Randy Garcia (www.randygarcia.com) - Founder of Nophi Recordings & transplant from the hell of Florida, Randy calls Reynoldstown home nowadays. With countless electronic & rock albums under his belt, Mr. R_Garcia is no stranger to the foibles, peaks and valleys of laptop recording & performance.

Alex Hofelich - One of my closest friends & the catalyst behind Skinny Puppy Education Day, Alex has a discerning taste as a music *fan*.

All three judges will focus on audience response, laptop interaction and sound quality, and originality. Each contestant faces off in a double-elimination tournament using only a laptop and one external MIDI controller, and three minutes to do their best while keeping their eyes on the prize.

For more information go to www.nophi.net/laptopbattle

The Laptop Battle Championship happens at Lenny's on Thursday, Oct. 18. Competition starts at 9 p.m. Admission is $5. Battle will be followed by a performance from R_Garcia.

Jay Reatard at Lenny’s. Atlanta, GA. Monday, Oct. 15, 2007.

2007-10-17T13:22:00.000-04:00

Good punk rock is hard to come by these days. Sure, there is no shortage of sloppy twenty something’s decked-out in ankle-tight jeans and studded belts, going through the motions of three chords and a rage of ramped-up emotions. But in the year 2007 the uniform and the sound are as predictable as reggae music. This is precisely what made Jay Reatard’s
show at Lenny’s on Monday, Oct. 15 rise so far above the trappings of pedestrian punk showmanship. The secret: Good songwriting and a no-bullshit stage presence that’s followed through by the sheer force of a freight train.

Jay covers all of the bases with his approach, and the element of surprise is not to be underestimated. The sound guy barely had time to fade the house music out before Reatard and his freshly assembled crew of hirsute players flipped the switch and became locked in the throes of cathartic, head banging fury.

The show started seemingly without warning. One minute the band was lounging on-stage, making sure everything was where it was supposed to be, plugged-in and working properly. The next minute, puffy Caucasian afros were shaking violently.
As catty as it sounds, the band’s appearance plays a significant role in terms of the show’s overall impact. The group that Reatard has assembled for this tour does not look like the kind of dudes who would churn-out this variety of fast, angular and artsy punk rock. The baggy denim and flannel shirts jive more with the image one gets when envisioning the opening band for a Soundgarden gig circa ’93.

Jay Reatard’s songs are built around a kind of speedy melancholy that taps into a lineage of dark pop and unapologetically punk rock tones. One could compile a list of sounds, and musical phrases that touch on everything from Wire’s “12XU” to the Ramones’ “Gimme Gimme Shock Treatment” to the Buzzcock’s “What Do I Get.” But Reatard breaks the mold by injecting such a strong sense of personality and real-time experience into the music that his songs transcend simple pop and punk wallpaper. He is a Songwriter with a capital “S” who knows the power of subtlety and impressionism in his storytelling. And the true impact comes with the delivery of each song.

As the band raged through what was maybe a half-an-hour set, there was not a moment of silence between songs. Each number bled into the next in a wall of noise that smeared over the pop elements of each song with just the right amount of noise to keep the ears and the brain racing to stay locked-on to the melodies. The hooks were strong, heart-wrenching and much dirtier than the already fuzzed-out qualities that take shape on Reatard’s ’06 full-length, Blood Visions (In the Red). The record, which was recorded partially by Carbonas’ drummer/producer Dave Rahn, is strong and fast-paced, and sharply personifies of the kind of energy and character that sets Jay Reatard apart. But live the group exudes a sense of spontaneity that transcends fashion and form, and rekindles the energy of great and truly timeless punk rock.

By Chad Radford

2007-09-07T11:16:00.000-04:00

The following interview was conducted in Bill Taft’s basement in the latter part of 2006. I’m not exactly sure when this happened, but we did the interview because I was fishing for ideas to use when writing the liner notes to go inside the Superlocalhellfreakride CD.

Chad Radford: You’ve described Superlocalhellfreakride in terms of it being like a tour of Atlanta. Can you tell me more about this?

Bill Taft: I’ve always been interested in prison literature and the idea of escape. I always liked stories about tunneling out of the Nazi prison camps when I was in middle school. Then the idea of being stuck in a neighborhood, or in a sense that I have to stay in one town as a dad, I saw my neighborhood, in some sense as being like a prison. So I thought ‘how do I tunnel out?’ And I got the idea to explore my prison, rather than just complain about it.

But also, Thoreau had his pond, and I have this city. And there’s that movie Il Postino. It’s about a guy, who wants to be a poet, but he doesn’t know how and he meets Pablo Neuruda. The guy who wants to be a poet takes Pablo’s advice and explores his own town. It’s very powerful the way he did that, so I thought there’s a way to explore my own small part of the world and discover that it is just as complex as the world itself.

So you’ve done a tour of Atlanta?

Yes, that’s the idea, to find strange or interesting places around town to play. It’s an on-going process. Places with interesting sounds, ambiance, fingerprints. I don’t know what the right term is, but some places sound better than others and the environment will affect you in subtle ways and that becomes a big part of the recording process, or the tour. When I was able to leave town on a whim, Kelly and I toured all over the country with the Jody Grind, having a great time playing music. And Smoke traveled around the country, too. We went to Texas, Seattle, New York lots of times. I also really love the idea of Lewis and Clark exploring, so the idea of going to record in the “Faster Moustache” building [R.I.P.] on Memorial is like touring. You have to pack stuff up and take supplies with you. Like a tour it gives you a transcendent experience. You rise above the mundane, and it’s very important to do that.

Did you have a Neruda-like character in your life who taught you to do this?

No, but I did read a couple of anthologies of prison literature and the idea was always that you have to find a way to write. So as a musician I have to find a way to record. And then I learned how a mini-disc recorder worked. I thought this is amazing, much better than a cassette because it’s easier to track. The mini-disc recorder became a big part of the tour. Because then we could go to a place, explore and document the results and easily organize it and archive it.

Would you describe Superlocalhellfreakride as a concept album? It is conceptual, but it’s not like The Wall or Tommy or something in the sense that there’s a story at work and repeating musical phrases and those sorts of thing…

I think the story is the process itself. The individual pieces don’t connect. What connects it all together is the process through which they were recorded. The tour idea. Field recordings.

This was all recorded with just one microphone?

Yes, well actually two microphones. Stereo mics. My original minidisk recorder just had one mic but I replaced that with a stereo mic system. It uses two little condenser mics. The philosophy is the same.

Does this come out of the idea for an album that you once told me about, called A Town Called Malice?

Oh, hey that’s a song by the Jam, “A Town Called Malice.” I first saw it scrawled in black sharpie in the Krog St. tunnel. I thought wow. That’s brilliant, like I’d discovered something. “A Town Called Malice.” I kept trying to figure it out. I’d ask people if they’d ever heard of it and no one did. Later on, at a show somewhere, this girl told me it was a Jam song and I got instantly depressed because it was no longer mysterious. I’m keeping the idea it inspired but I’m gonna have to lose the title.

Tell me about the idea it inspired?

I want to get people to write stories about a town, like an imagined history of a place. It’s not hoax and it’s not fraud, more like a surreal history of areas in the city. Things that happened there or they feel like they happened there. Historical impressionism. Is there such a thing?

Do you mean like the mutant mill boar that stalks the abandoned Whitier Mill that you talk about on your blog (www.myspace.com/hubcapcity)?

Right, when I wrote the story to tell people about the mutant mill boar that would be an example of historical impressionism.

Was there really ever a mutant mill boar?

No. I felt that there really could have been a mutant mill boar at one time.

Recently I’ve overheard people comparing Hubcap City to Smoke, which is a little strange to me. HC is the logical equivalent of Smoke, but the music is totally different. Smoke, to me, was very much rooted in this sort of outsider aesthetic. Even the documentary has the slug line “What is the sound of queer Southern blues?” The visual representation of the group seems kind of freakish, but when you listen to the music it’s very straight forward. Even the documentary seems to say, never mind Benjamin’s freakish presence, this guy is a great, honest-to-goodness songwriter. There are a few songs, like “Curtains” that contain the seed of Hubcap City, but one of the most unsettling things about the music was how straight forward and normal it was trying to be. Hubcap City is not like that. It is very experimental and the group embraces the noise aesthetic and the weirdo aesthetic. When I listen to HC I can hear Smoke, especially in your horn playing. It gives an uplifting counterpart to the more brooding elements of the music. Have you considered this?

I’ve always liked improvisation, noise, jazz, Ornette Coleman, Cecil Taylor. I’ve always liked that kind of music and no one in Smoke did really. It was always kind of a rock group, like the Beastie Boys or something. Whereas in Hubcap City we are less into the Beastie Boys and more into the kind of music you would hear at Eyedrum, so the group takes it into more of that direction.

Do mean that Smoke was more rooted in pop culture?

No, I think both groups are rooted in pop culture, at least enough to rebel against it. Both groups took a lot of inspiration from the Destroy All Music festivals. Benjamin was a big part of Destroy All Music. But in Smoke, Ben was really interested in song form, he was always talking about Kris Kristofferson and Vic Chestnut so we kinda all needed to tighten up the sound to give him what he needed.

Tell me about the Destroy All Music festival era of the late ‘80s in Atlanta and how it affected Hubcap City.

The Destroy All Music festivals were a big deal for me. I got to see people redefining the nature of music, songs and performance. It was all kinds of noise. Sometimes it was a guy with a contact mic glued to a metal pipe. He ran the mic through an amp and it was loud and everyone left the room. Other times it was acoustic but not in a folkie way.

The big revelation for me was that a lot of the performers were from Atlanta. They were doing incredible things and they weren't from New York or LA or Berlin or Moscow. This got me thinking about what I could do, too. Like it wasn't hopeless to play music if you didn't know famous people or live in the East Village and spend your nights hanging out at shows there.

Medicine Suite and whatever Tracy Terril was doing were the big performers for me. They always tapped into this deep, primitive wail, and they had songs with lots of words. Plus, they rolled around on the floor and played a fur-covered guitar and sometimes made their own instruments like a plank of wood with pot lids bolted to it.

The DAM festivals created a definition of music that Hubcap City has always believed in and followed and tried to keep going--mixing in to it other stuff we've picked up over the years.

Digging Deep: Buying Records with Gentleman Jesse

2007-09-04T22:06:00.000-04:00

Few people can rattle off such a staggering knowledge of rock and punk minutiae as easily as Jesse Smith. Pull any scratched-up record out of the dollar bin and he can tell you something about the producer or the drummer’s other band. For Smith, it’s more than a hobby, it’s a lifestyle choice; one that’s underscored when he explains that his record collection is filed by race, genre and soon by decade.

Weaving through traffic on I-75 North, heading to Circle Sky Records the guitarist for Atlanta punk band Carbonas, and the charismatic frontman of his own group, Gentleman Jesse & His Men fumbles to switch off his cell phone after reading an incoming text message. He laughs as he explains that he uses Metallica as the benchmark by which he compares most bands: [e.g. Fugazi’s Red Medicine is the equivalent of …And Justice for All. 13 Songs is their Kill ‘em All and In on the Kill Taker is Master of Puppets].

His opinions are sound, but never about anything too serious. A good example of this comes to light when he explains that bands should not be allowed to wear shorts on stage. "You're not in your living room and you're not up there for comfort," he says. "When you are performing for an audience, you owe them a certain amount of respect. Shorts don't convey that respect." He goes on to recall watching Pearl Jam perform on televion a decade ago and seeing Eddie Vedor wearing sweat pants. "It was a huge problem in the '90s."

A week before this record shopping excursion, Smith approached me at Criminal Records in Little 5 Points as I studied a dated and awkward album cover by Belgian punk band Hubble Bubble. “That record is essential,” he declared. “It’s noisy, and they think they’re being space-aged and it sounds like they’re playing broken guitars… It’s awesome, and Plastic Bertrand was their drummer. You know who that is?” Of course not, but I grunted a dismissive “uh huh…” while making a mental note to type him into Wikipedia that night.

Later at Wax and Facts he stuck two more LPs in my hand, Baroque Hoedown and Sixteen Tambourines by the Three O’clock. “These are their first two records, and if you don’t have them you really should. It’s great psychedelic punk…” He was right.

Over the years Smith’s shopping habits have left a mark on his own musical output. His early bands Some Soviet Station and Paper Lions bore the agonizing marks of the post-hardcore and emotionally charged climate of the late ‘90s. His recent trad. punk guitar sneer in Carbonas, and the power pop chug of Gentleman Jesse & His Men reflect the time spent making sense of the records he buys, while shaping his own sounds.

When did you graduate from high school?

It was ‘98. Because I was underage, I couldn’t see the shows I wanted see. The easiest thing was to go to house shows at places like I Defy and the Driver Dome. Back then the scene in Atlanta was straight edge and vegan. It didn’t last long because it wasn’t any fun. But that’s how I got to see music.

That scene influenced your early bands, Some Soviet Station and Paper Lions.

I was a record collector even then, so I started off buying Drive Like Jehu records, which was an obvious influence. Then I figured out the DC hardcore thing. I had a little bit of an edge over people because of record collecting, as far as influences on my band. But I remember like in ’98 I thought I should check out MC5. I like rock music and didn’t want to play beat your chest emo just to get laid, like a lot of people did.

Gentleman Jesse and Carbonas are very different from your previous bands.

There was a clear point in my life where I said ‘I am changing my ideals.’ I had spent so much time in bands saying ‘I am not going to put any boundaries on what I can do musically.’ Things have to be natural and real.

I always find you in bands that have a lot of steam, like Paper Lions and Carbonas.

Paper Lions was awful. It was democracy failing. I was really into the Birthday Party and avant-garde punk and was trying not to rip anybody off and just make music that pulled from influences. At the time there was a real shitty hipster garage rock thing going on and there were guys in the band who thought, ‘we can do that.’ Our publishing money was split four-ways. Four people writing a song are too many. We wanted to do something that was cool and Mission of Burma-influenced, but it got whittled down to something boring with every song. I could go back and fix that band if everybody would just listen to me, but that will never happen and I don’t care too much. I’m doing fine now.

Then you joined Carbonas?

They overlapped by a year. I would get made fun of by the bands we played with. People would say ‘you’re in that shitty indie rock band..?’ But the best tours I have ever been on, the ones where people are fans and are there for the music were with Carbonas. I toured for 7 months with Paper Lions and people liked us less every time we came through town.

It’s probably cathartic to play with Carbonas after Paper Lions.

At first I had this hang up: you can’t make punk rock in modern times. It just isn’t real. But I found myself going to see Carbonas every week and buying the records and thinking they were great. No one else thought so at the time, maybe the same 20 kids that I saw at every show.

But they’re pretty big now?

Not in Atlanta. They’re respected mostly because of some sort of Black Lips trickle down. The Black Lips and Carbonas used to be the tightest thing in the world. The first Black Lips tours were with Carbonas.

We finish shopping, eyeball each other over an Arthur Lee 45, and after Jesse debates whether or not to plunk down $25 for Sam Cook’s Hits of the ‘50s, he decides to pass. We make our purchases and leave.

Records bought:
Pussy Galore Live: in the Red
The Subsonics A Lot to Forget
Arthur Lee “Sad Song” b/w “You Want Change For Your Re-Run” 45.

Next stop, The Book Nook on Cleremont Rd.

You have been playing music in Atlanta for a long time, and recently a lot of bands in Atlanta have become wildly popular. Has this affected you?

Playing better music has helped. I go on tour and people like my band?

Is it based on the band’s merits or is it because you’re from Atlanta and associated with so much other stuff right now?

I would like to think that it’s because of the band’s merits. When I first joined Carbonas we couldn’t get anyone to put out our LP. So we put out the single and pressed only 200 copies. It sold out very quickly and we got on the cover of Maximum Rock & Roll. It was pretty remarkable.

But has Gentleman Jesse benefited from that?

We put on the Gentleman Jesse “I don’t Wanna Know” single “members of Carbonas doing power pop” and we sold out of 500 copies in three months.

You’re a big fan or Nick Lowe. I’ve written about Gentleman Jesse and compared you to things like Lowe, Joe Jackson, Rick Springfield…

You can take Rick Springfield off of your list. That guy ruined my life. He wrote a song, called “Jesse’s girl.” I hate that fucking guy.

As the shopping winds down we compare our scores at The Book Nook. He is cradling a copy of ZZ Top’s Tres Hombres and I am holding a pristine copy of the soundtrack to Decline of the Western Civilization Pt. 1. We both eyeball each other again, this time as if to ask, “don’t you already have that?” Truth be told, I’m not sure if I do or not, but I might as well pick it up.

How do you feel about it when people say “Gentleman Jesse wears his influences on his sleeve?”

I do! It feels good… I was asked to join Carbonas I thought wait a second. It’s not okay to play punk rock in a modern setting, and it’s not okay to sound like Gang of Four, but why? Everything has been done? What’s the alternative, start a noise band? That’s been done. The best thing you can do is put your influences together and put your touch on them. If it sounds like I’m doing a great rip off and people like it, awesome. If it seems like my influences are obvious, it’s probably not as obvious as you think, which goes back to record collecting and trying to find the most obscure bullshit in the world. The obvious ones are obvious. Nick Lowe, I love him. But there are a lot more that people would never recognize. Guided by Voices, just from the low- fi angle and a lot of ‘60s worship, and Beatlemania. Good power pop bands from the ‘70s like the Nerves were so good because they weren’t trying to be a power pop band. They were trying to be the Beatles. You need to listen to the first couple of Beatles records and try to pull that off. That’s way more important than trying to sound like some band from the ‘70s that had skinny ties, but not great hooks and memorable songs. I realize this because I have played shows around the country and heard people singing my song back at me… I’m just trying to be the Beatles.

Top Photo by Laura Hull
Words and bottom photo by Chad Radford

Abe Vigoda at The Drunken Unicorn, Atlanta, GA. Sunday, July 7. 2007.

2007-09-04T21:56:00.000-04:00

Daniel A.I.U. Higgs

2007-08-29T11:51:00.000-04:00

Atomic Yggdrasil Tarot
Thrill Jockey

Daniel Higgs’ brain is tuned-in to a farther out plain of cosmic spirituality than the rest of us. The lyricist for Baltimore’s post-hardcore icons Lungfish balances disquieting imagery of damaged mythology and religious psychobabble with his latest book / CD, Atomic Yggdrasil Tarot. Higgs’ gorgeous and absolutely impenetrable paintings, anagrams and noisy tape loops are filled with banjo banter and abstract references to Christian and Norse mythology. Jerky recordings with titles, like “Spiritual Hue” and “Creation Moan,” and acronyms, like E.D.E.N. (Everything Dies Even Now) and B.I.B.L.E. (Belief Is Blasphemy Lovingly Encoded) combine to jam the senses. His Miró-like paintings are surreal manifestations of female forms that are both fascinating and perplexing in all of their colorful symbolism. An underlying tie binds it all together; eluding linear interpretation and opening many doors into Higgs’ singular spiritual visions, but never offering guidance.

--Chad Radford

Zoroaster at The Drunken Unicorn, Atlanta, GA. Monday, August 20, 2007.

2007-08-21T10:28:00.000-04:00

Scenes from the Set of ATL Burn To Shine at 54 Moreland Ave. Sunday, July 29. 2007.

2007-08-07T16:25:00.000-04:00

Todd Cook (Shipping News) and Shannon Wright.

This is Boner. The "R" in his name is silent. Call him "Bone." He was in charge of the property on which Burn to Shine was filmed.

Tom Cheshire (All Night Drug Prowling Wolves) & Brendan Canty.

Amy.

Tom Cheshire.

Shannon Wright.

Shannon Wright.

Tommy Chung & Mathis Hunter of the Selmanaires.

International-Hit Makers, Tomy Chung & Shannon Mulvaney.

Bradford Cox (Deerhunter).

Lockett Pundt & Bradford Cox (Deerhunter).

Bradford Cox.

Deerhunter.

Jared Swiley (the Black Lips). He wanted to make sure that I titled this photo, "Raisin' tha Roof."

Bradford Cox playing a 12-string guitar on the porch.

This photo of me with Calvin Johnson was taken by Bradford Cox. Calvin showed up at random. He played a show in Athens the night before.

Cole Alexander (the Black Lips).

The Black Lips.

The Black Lips.

Candice Jones (the Coathangers) drinking a beer after the shoot.

For more information on Christoff Green and Brendan Canty's on-going Burn To Shine documentary series, go to www.trixiedvd.com

Von Sudenfed

2007-07-26T02:21:00.000-04:00

Tromatic Reflexxions
Domino

Who would have ever thought that a pairing of Mark E. Smith with Mouse on Mars would be so funky? Tromatic Reflexxions is a dance floor dirty bomb that pounds with sharp, robotic beats while maintaining the ramshackle post-punk fire of the Fall. From the get go “Fledermaus Can’t Get Enough” jitters with what at first feels like a hollow and somewhat antiquated, pre-millennial house groove. There’s something very Trainspotting about the relationship between the fizzling beats and Smith’s drunken rants. But stale it is not, and the simple, plodding pace serves as a primer for the album that is about to unfold.

Each song builds one piece at a time in a post-punk/electronica back-and-forth that dips erratically into Smith’s mumbled mantras before leaning toward Mouse on Mars’ bombastic beats.

“The Rhinohead” hits hard with a disarmingly rich pop cadence, turning crashing alarm clock rhythms into party anthems. It’s the greatest Fall song that the Fall never wrote. Big hooks sweep over sizzling electronic noises that simmer behind the straight-ahead pop structure. “Flooded” blasts with a powerful dub bass that crackles with blown-speaker fuzz while Smith barks nonsensically about DJ’s pissing themselves. If his words made sense the song wouldn’t be as good, which serves as a potent summation of the record. Tromatic Reflexxions thrives on the unlikely alliance of Mouse on Mars’ precision electronics and Smith’s loose and drunken slurs. Their respective dynamics shouldn’t jive so well, but they make beautiful music together.
--Chad Radford

Of Montreal

2007-07-26T02:13:00.000-04:00

Icons, Abstract Thee EP
Polyvinyl

Kevin Barnes used to write songs that shrouded reality in Roald Dahl-style indie rock fairytales, but the pressures of marriage and fatherhood have manifested themselves in some very dark and personal ways with the five songs that make up the Icons, Abstract Thee EP. At times he surpasses the threshold of comfortable listening. But it is human nature to hold rapt attention over such drama and Barnes’ beautiful train wreck of a failed domestic life has become fantastical pop fodder.

An air of tabloid obsession churns in “Du Og Meg” as he lays out what could have been an ideal family life. But as “Derailments in a Place of Our Own” and “Miss Blonde Your Papa is Falling” unfold, the good life turns bad. The arrangements are sparse and plodding by comparison to OM’s heretofore quirky presence and the effects are chilling.

These outtakes from Hissing Fauna… fit together with voyeuristic intrigue. The flawed protagonist tells his story with the same damning lens that captures Britney, Paris, TomKat and Brangelina in the supermarket check-out line. The only difference here is that the tell-all exposés on Icons… are autobiographical. Barnes rakes his own muck to turn his shortcomings into sensationalism.

The percussive weight of “No Conclusion” brings everything to a close with bleak revelation. Barnes sings, “I’ve never been honest with anyone” before unleashing a stream of bleeding-heart emotions. He boldly announces that he’s being disingenuous, but his songs and stories are so seductive that it’s impossible not to be sucked-in.

--Chad Radford

The Coathangers at ISP, Atlanta, GA. Thursday, June 21.

2007-07-26T02:02:00.000-04:00

Atlas Sound / Mexcellent

2007-06-14T13:15:00.000-04:00

Fractal Tracks / Cornbread Jungle split 12-inch EP
Hoss Records

Sometimes the songs that don’t fit into the larger picture are just as important as the recognized accomplishments in understanding an artist’s drive. Atlas Sound is the solo moniker for Deerhunter frontman Bradford Cox, left to his own devices to sculpt clutter, surface noise and low-fi pop songs that billow in clouds of dreamy, dust-bunnies-on-the-needle beats. “(F. Grey)” is a skeletal version of Deerhunter’s “Fluorescent Grey” channeled through an acoustic guitar over a brittle falsetto voice, stretching deep into the void. A strong hint of David Bowie circa “Major Tom” lingers in the drones that burst open between each strum and coo, but Cox’s ruminations emanate from a much farther out place in the cosmos.

Strung-out ambiance follows, creating an atmosphere of dirty and drug-addled bliss, highlighting a pronounced, albeit obscure side of Cox’s songwriting that pulls from a different palette than Deerhunter’s songs.

On the flipside, Atlanta duo Mexcellent (R. Mexico and V. Fajito) taps into a much darker strain of echoing resonance by drawing out a bleak, industrial slur. “Rhonda’s Price” is the soundtrack to a bad trip. “RGDWTJPM” flourishes in the dark, soft lumber of electronic music circa 1981. If pioneering electro subversives, such as Cabaret Voltaire, Clock DVA, Throbbing Gristle and the likes had gazed into a crystal ball only to see crunk staring back at them from decades in the future, their interpretations might have sounded something like this. But Mexcellent reverses the flow, and the technology at hand plays a big role in sculpting these scraping sounds. Voices and digitally deconstructed samples from the musical Chicago melt into a magnificent jumble of blackened and abstract beats that are chopped, screwed and drowning in morphine reverb.

--Chad Radford

A Conversation w/ Jack Pendarvis

2007-06-09T00:48:00.000-04:00

Interview by Chad Radford. Photo by Charles G. Steffen

Atlanta author and McSweeney’s regular Jack Pendarvis is a man of singular wit. His self-effacing sense of humor pushes the boundaries of social and moral perceptions and behaviors in his second book, Your Body is Changing. I recently spoke with Jack about the art of laughing at one’s self and others, and what it means to be a “Southern writer.”

In Your Body is Changing characters grapple with political correctness and being honest with each other. Do you spend a lot of time thinking about sincerity and semantics?

Instead of saying, “I want to be a jerk,” people say, “Now this might not be politically correct, but...” and then they can feel brave and proud for saying some common, snotty remark. You never hear someone say, “I’m politically correct!” Yet somehow people who brag about being “politically incorrect” seem to imply that they are facing down a mighty army of enemies. But weirdly, every single person on Earth, including me and you, let’s face it, seems to pride him or herself on NOT being “politically correct.” So what are we so puffed up about? What have we accomplished? The war is over, and I guess jerkiness won. Does that make us happy? Does this answer your question? Probably not!

How much are your characters based on people that you’ve encountered in your day-to-day life?

Some of all of them and a lot of none of them. Untangle that fragment and you’ll have the secret.

Much of your strongest material is also your funniest material. Is it important for you to get your sense of humor across?

I don’t think about it much, honestly. I heard George Saunders say something once about “giving yourself permission” to be funny as a writer. I think that’s the biggest hurdle: to allow your natural inclinations to bear some kind of fruit. In my case, there happens to be some humor involved.

Humor in “Southern” fiction is often tangled around sad and awkward characters and situations, which I find in a lot of your stories. Do you ever consider what it means to be a “Southern” writer?

Any kind of label (Southern or humorist or whatever) can be an excuse to fall into bad habits so I try to be as careful as I can. I once heard George Singleton speaking on a panel, and he was asked to name his favorite Southern writer. He said Gogol. That’s a much briefer and sharper answer to what you’re asking, I think, and it has the advantage of working like a Zen koan.

Your Body is Changing is your second collection of short stories. Do you have plans to write a longer work and could you tell me about what you have in mind?

My novel (titled AWESOME) is coming out in 2008. It’s about a happy, rich, handsome giant of the Paul Bunyan variety. I started out worrying about the perception that I write about “losers.” I thought, “What’s a winner? Can you really write about a winner? Is there a good novel about a winner? I mean, Captain Ahab is a ‘loser,’ right? Quentin Compson is a ‘loser.’ Madame Bovary is a ‘loser.’ Prince Mishkin is a ‘loser,’ Hazel Motes is a ‘loser,’ Jay Gatsby is a ‘loser’...” Whoa! Let me make it clear I’m not comparing myself to Melville, Flaubert, and those others. In any case, the dramatic impulse kicked in and fairly early in the novel the giant runs into some major problems... that’s the way fiction works, it turns out. It was impossible to write about a “winner.”

Jandek

2007-06-09T00:35:00.000-04:00

Manhattan Tuesday: Afternoon of Insensitivity
Corwood Industries

Manhattan Tuesday is the first live Jandek album to embrace the muffled spaciousness of a live recording. This double-disc sounds like a bootleg, and in light of the ghostly pace of the performance, the hazy low-end feels like a deliberate, aesthetic choice. Slow motion waves of funeral drones ebb and flow in the foggy fidelity, shrouding bursts of drum rolls and rattles under layers of echoing resonance.

The lyrical content of each song is a survey of social anxiety and existential jitters. The Representative from Corwood hovers behind a Korg synthesizer, howling away over plodding organ sounds. His voice whines and weaves a chain of dark philosophical inquiries. Song lengths range from seven to 20 minutes, and no one track is any more or less hypnotic than the others. These seven numbers, recorded at the Anthology Film Archives in September 2005 are appendages of a larger composition, titled Afternoon of Insensitivity, (but Afternoon of Insecurity would be a more appropriate title).

This is also the first Jandek recording where the fingerprint of another, recognizable musician, guitarist Loren Connors, effects the overall compositions so profoundly. Manhattan Tuesday takes shape as a collaboration that gives direction to Connors' drifting washes of sound, while bringing Jandek’s obtuse ways to a discernible point. Matt Heyner (bass) and Chris Corsano (drums) lay down a slow, rhythmic foundation, but their contributions are only the frame around the haunting merger of Connors and the Rep’s respective takes on abstract musical expressionism.

--Chad Radford

Lifesavas

2007-06-09T00:09:00.000-04:00

Gutterfly
Quannum Projects

Truly great songwriting can transcend gimmickry, but for Portland, OR hip-hop trio Lifesavas, great songwriting fleshes out some substantive musical qualities while exposing a few weaknesses. The group’s second release, Gutterfly is a "concept" album that resurrects the funk of ‘70s Blaxploitation; but the narrative tale, chronicling characters with names like Bumpy Johnson and Sleepy Floyd, is weak at best. Songs like “No Surprise” and “A Serpent’s Love” are rife with intelligent lyrics, raw deliveries and beats that shine with a cool but charged vibe in the traditions of Gift of Gab's 4th Dimensional Rocketships or A Tribe Called Quest's Low End Theory. But the vague conceptual interludes draw attention away from the album’s brightest moments. The Fishbone cameo in “Dead Ones” pulls you right out of the moment, as do appearances from George Clinton, Vernon Reid and the likes. Each of these songs stand on their own merits, but the distractions and extraneous material clip the wings off of what is an otherwise excellent album.

--Chad Radford

Z'EV at Eyedrum, Atlanta, GA. Wednesday, May 16. 2007

2007-05-18T11:18:00.001-04:00

S.I.D.S. at Rob's House, Atlanta, GA. Saturday, May 5. 2007.

2007-05-13T14:23:00.000-04:00

Z'EV

2007-05-13T13:11:00.000-04:00

Man and Metal: Z’ev revels in the power of pure harmonic of sound

Story by Chad Radford
Photos by Josie Roth

Gripping black-and-white photographs of an intense man, his head clean-shaven, and a cigarette dangling from his lip as he pounds on titanium and steel is most peoples’ vision of metal percussionist, Z’ev. These photos which appear in the Industrial Culture Handbook, published by punk journal RE/Search in 1983, literally place him in the lexicon of industrial music, alongside the genre’s founding fathers, Throbbing Gristle, NON and Cabaret Voltaire. But as these other acts gained notoriety for their subversive sounds and philosophies, Z’ev remained outside industrial music’s (d)evolution into dance music. Rather, he summons the hypnotic qualities of reverberating metal by molding not the clang and bang of his performance, but the ghostly acoustic feedback that swells between each mallet strike.

Z’ev has spent a lifetime studying various enclaves of music and spirituality from around the world. He has written books on the nature of rhythm and rituals in music and has been a fixture in the avant-garde music scene since the mid-‘70s. But for years his records were frustratingly impossible to find. As a result, more people have heard of Z’ev than have experienced his work. That is until a retrospective CD, titled The Ghost of One Foot in the Grave (Touch) released in 1997, rekindled interest in his work. Several releases have since materialized, and following his latest offering, a revitalizing new work, titled Symphony # 2 Elementatlites on Atlanta’s Blossoming Noise label, Z’ev has embarked on his first, tour of the United States, consummating a legacy he started nearly three decades ago.

Association with industrial music was never disconcerting for Z’ev. “It was just a bunch of people coming from an art background, moving into a proto-punk kind of thing,” he explains. “My relationship with industrial music had to do with the instruments I was using. They were products of high technological, industrialization.”

His sound has more in common with the tonal experimentation of massive minimalists, such as Tony Conrad, Lustmord and Pauline Oliveros, rather than the dirge of groups like Einstürzende Neubauten or Test Dept. who utilize similar instrumentation. “I was never interested in people coming to see a violent thing happen, because it wasn’t violent; it was a powerful thing,” he explains recalling reviews of early performances. One hometown bay area journalist wrote that he manipulates large, metal objects with the look of a concert pianist. But in New York, a writer called him “a man who personifies violence in sound and vision,” and asked “why does this remind me a guy being jerked around by two vicious Dobermans Pinchers?”

The latter review didn’t set well. “He’s probably someone who cowers during a thunderstorm,” Z’ev huffs. “Some people revel in a thunderstorm and others get scared. It’s an elemental thing and people’s relationship to them determines if it’s something scary or something to embrace.”

Z’ev’s metal of choice is titanium, which he discovered at a Bowing scrap yard in Seattle circa 1982 where he acquired surplus materials salvaged from the cooling system of missile silos from Triton submarines. “When the rocket shoots out of the sub you have to cool the interior of the silo or it would melt the submarine,” he adds with childlike enthusiasm. “Titanium can become white hot and maintain structural integrity. The more heat and pressure that’s used to create a metal, creates energy potential. When you hit titanium it amplifies the sonic energy it puts out.”

This potential howls during his performances. Z’ev’s instruments include steel sheets and boxes, titanium tubes, a gong made from a patio table bass and a section from the tank of an 18-wheeler. Each is played with various mallets and maracas that have been altered with ball bearings. Z’ev’s M.O. utilizes the scraps of industry, drawing-out both the massive and meditative qualities of metal. He fully acknowledges the artistic notions of turning swords into plowshares but, most importantly his performance channels the power of pure, harmonic sound.

Afterward

While working on this story I sent out several e-mails to people with whom Z'ev has worked over the years; people like John Zorn, Genesis P.Orridge, Henry Rollins, David J. of Bauhaus / Love and Rockets and so on. Of course I know these peopele are all very busy with their work, but it was worth a try. Henry Rollins and David J. were the only two who were kind enough to hit me back with good sound bytes. However, I was on deadline with this story for Creative Loafing and both of them returned my e-mail after the deadline had come and gone.

During my interview with Z'ev, he mentioned that sometime around 1997 Henry Rollins had commisioned a work from him to be released by 2.13.61 Publications. This was the first I had heard of it so I sent Henry an e-mail. Henry is always good for smart, usually funny and sometimes acerbic quotes, and everyone has seen that Einstürzende Neubauten tattoo on his arm. He must be down and probably has something cool and dramatic to say about the power of Z'ev's live shows, right? Wrong. Here is his reply:

Chad, he is an artist I have a lot of respect for. We wanted to do an album with him. I forget the exact nature of the deal but I remember at one point he said that when someone buys a record from him, he puts some effort into it but not as much as the one he puts out on license, knowing he'll get it back. I thought that was really weak so I just let him have the advance that he was promised and left it at that as I really don't want to work with someone who thinks that way. I wish him the best of luck. Henry Rollins

Thanks Henry. I appreciate your point, but I suppose it's best to be upfront about these sorts of things.

David J. was a bit more flattering with is comments. I approached him because Z'ev had also mentioned in our interview that he was picked to be the opening act on Bauhaus' first headlining tour of the U.K. in 1980. This is what David had to say:

Chad,

We always used to hand pick our special guests & would look for unusual, stimulating & challenging artists. We saw a film of Z'EV doing a performance where he was 'playing the building' & also using his collection of plastic containers to great rhythmic effect. At the time, we were getting more rhythmic as a band so
it was very complimentary to have him opening for us. I believe that he is something of a shaman.

All the best,

David

Special thanks to Photographer Josie Roth for letting me use her photos of Z'ev.

Top 5

2007-05-04T00:53:00.000-04:00

I was recently asked by Creative Loafing to put together a list of my picks for the top 5 records, CDs, 7"s and/or EP's released by Atlanta bands from January '06 to present (May '07).

This is what I came up with:

1. Deerhunter - Cryptograms / Fluorescent Grey 2xLP (Kranky). Packaged together as one cohesive artistic statement, Deerhunter’s second full-length, Cryptograms, and the follow-up Fluorescent Grey EP blurs the boundaries of dissonance, art and noise as pop music. Of course they're both available on CD, but vinyl just adds entirely new dimesnions to the quality of the sound on each record.

2. Gentleman Jesse & His Men - "I Don't Wanna Know (Where You Been Tonight)" 7" (Douchemaster Records). Gentleman Jesse’s debut is a power pop gem that re-envisions the skinny tie’70s with punch-in-the-gut heartbreak and a Rickenbacker chug that leaves you wanting more.

3. Juju B. Solomon - Self Titled CD (New Street). JuJu B. Solomon's self-titled debut embraces the voice of a stranger in a strange land, making sense of the world. His lyrics are vivid and his melodies drip with raw, unfettered emotions.

4. Magicicada - Everyone Is Everyone CD (Public Guilt). Magicicada’s (né Christopher White’s) third proper full-length layers dense textures of otherworldly sounds: wind blowing through trees, floor boards creaking in the middle of the night into a dreamy and droning ambient sound collage.

5. The Black Lips - Let it Bloom CD/LP (In the Red Records). What can I say, it's the Black Lips. If they weren't still hanging around town between tours, popping up when and where you least expect them, Atlanta would be a much less interesting place. With Let It Bloom, the group transcend the trashy stage antics of its early years to demonstrate an evolving sense of skill, pushing fuzzed-out garage rock into exciting new places.

Deerhunter

2007-04-26T13:02:00.000-04:00

Fluorescent Grey EP
Kranky

The Fluorescent Grey EP is a companion to Deerhunter’s second full-length, Cryptograms, that arrives not as a collection of outtakes, but a glimpse at the band’s evolution-in-progress. Whereas Cryptograms stretches abstract moments in rhythm, emotion and nostalgia across an entire album, Fluorescent Grey switches gears by focusing on concise song structure. Songs like “Wash Off” and “Like New” echo the shimmering distortion of Cryptograms, but there’s a discernable departure in both the clarity of the recording and the tempered pace of each number. As such it is a pop counterweight to the proper album's long, sustained ambiance. The fact that the vinyl edition of the EP arrives packaged together with the the full-length only underscores the relationship between the two recordings; both are best experienced side-by-side.

The title track harnesses shoegazer overdrive as frontman Bradford Cox layers high falsetto and deep baritone vocalizations, achieving a subtly pandrogynous effect. The death-afflicted lyrics, juxtaposed with the shimmering, sonic qualities of the music jam the senses with both sadness and elation. “Dr. Glass” builds around the noises of antiquated fidelity and drums that glow with a warped pop hue. The EP serves as an epilogue to Cryptograms by expanding on the album’s finest moments, and bringing Deerhunter’s sound to a sharp, cohesive point.

--Chad Radford

Peter Brötzmann, Marino Pliakas, Michael Wertmüller

2007-04-26T12:50:00.000-04:00

Full Blast
Jazzwerkstatt

Since the release of his acclaimed 1968 album, Machine Gun, Peter Brötzmann has pushed free jazz into deeper, darker realms of raw visceral expression. Full Blast arrives nearly forty years after his chaotic beginnings, finding that after all these years he still tussles with the same fiery and aggressive drive. And the album does indeed live up to it's name, taking shape as the explosive equivelant of a chest-bursting caffeine buzz that hits hard the height of rush hour traffic. As such this ablum is not recomended for interstate of inner city driving in any capcity. Listen to this one in the privacy of your own home, for the safety (and composure) of not only yourself but anyone else who wanders within striking distance.

The album’s five untitled numbers were recorded live with the rhythm section of Michael Wertmüller (drums) and Marino Pliakas (electric bass). The simple pairing of Brötzmann’s teeth-gnashing skronk with bass and drums draws-out new dimensions of body for his typically high-end squalls. The group doesn’t experiment with new musical form, but dives head-first into Brötzmann’s dogged jazz dirge with a simple, powerful rhythmic chatter that underscores what makes Brötzmann such a brilliant artist, from a slightly different angle.

--Chad Radford

Ed Gray: No Depression

2007-04-26T12:35:00.000-04:00

Ed Gray rises above self-doubt, one step at a time...

Self-deprecation is a double-edged sword in the hands of a singer / songwriter. A healthy amount of insecurity draws out the most compelling qualities of a musician. But without a small dose of confidence, uncertainty can keep songs from seeing the light of day. Ed Gray has struggled with this imbalance for nearly two decades; a time that’s seen him lingering in obscurity while contemporaries, like Bright Eyes, William Elliot Whitmore and Simon Joyner have found varying degrees of success. To say that Ed Gray is his own worst critic makes light of the situation. He is his own jailer, who rarely lets his musical ideas come to fruition. But with the arrival of his latest full-length The Late Gray Ed Great, Gray shows signs of transcending his self-imposed embargo, one step at a time.

His career began in earnest when he bought a ukulele at a junk shop in Iowa City, IA circa 1991. He was drawn to the instrument because he’d heard it was what Lou Barlow of Sebadoh was playing. His first CD, titled Sore Eyes appeared in 1998 on Iowa City’s SKAM Records. The disc documents Gray’s distorted anti-folk dirges that plunge into the depths of caustic depression. In 2003 he released an LP, titled Fall Song that slows the pace to a hazy drone. Vocals morph from whispers into screams over drummer John Crawford’s slow motion tribal pounding.

Gray embraced the role of the emotionally damaged troubadour long before Bright Eyes and Cat power were performing on Letterman. Early on he had the reputation of the weird guy playing a funny little guitar through a small amp and screamed his words without a microphone, and it was still too loud for the uninitiated. He was even known to shed a few tears during particularly intense performances. The affect was a captivating part of his show, but a social killer. “People weren’t coming up and saying ‘wow cool,’ they just weren’t talking to me,” he chuckles.

Over time Gray’s songwriting evolved into a more stable form and he shed the ukulele for the nylon strings of a classical guitar. With The Late Gray Ed Great, he moves past the damaged sounds of his early recordings by leaning toward lumbering, country-tinged inflections that replace awkward indulgence with melancholy and symbolism.

In the summer of 2005 Gray was invited to Omaha by JagJaguawar recording artist, Simon Joyner and collaborator Chris Deden to record. Joyner was rehearsing material for his album, Skeleton Blues and planned to record Gray using the same players. The sessions were wrought with technical difficulties and Gray’s inability to communicate ideas became an obstacle. “There were times when I was beside myself, thinking this is going to be terrible, and I just sort of gave up,” Gray admits. “I was tired of trying to make people see what I wanted to happen.”

Joyner recalls how he intervened during the recording. “I had a plan because I didn’t think that Ed did,” he laughs. Joyner brought order to the process by organizing a full-band treatment of Gray’s songs.

“It turned out great, but when we sent him rough mixes he was full of doubt,” Joyner deflates. “There were e-mails where I just said ‘this is really good and you should be proud. Just put it out and stop worrying about it!”

Gray caved-in and released the songs on Hot Potato Records. An EP, called A Fresh Coat on the Powder Keg followed on Unread Records, incorporating many of the same musicians, and further refining the path Gray started under Joyner’s guidance. “He’s one of my favorite songwriters who is just kind of unsung and it’s a real crime,” Joyner adds. “But a lot of that has to do with Ed overcoming his own sense of doubt. He wouldn’t keep doing this if he didn’t think he was any good, and this record could do a lot for him. But at some point you have to drop the insecurities to reasonable level.”

--Chad Radford

Top photo by Chad Radford
Bottom photo by Jonathan Crawford

Sister Vanilla

2007-04-26T12:26:00.000-04:00

Little Pop Rock
Chemikal Underground

The horrible band name is only one of the many obstacles that Sister Vanilla throws at listeners with Little Pop Rock. The project was conceived by Jesus & Mary Chain siblings William, Jim and Linda Reid, and long-time cohort Ben Lurie. Though the album is not an entire failure, it is the weakest link in the Reid family catalogue thus far… Yes, it’s even worse than Munki if that’s possible.

Opening number “Pastel Blue” is a sweet and day dreamy number that would work well in a Sesame Street montage, and “Jamcolas” could have easily been culled from some long-forgotten cache of Psychocandy outtakes. But as soon as little sister Linda’s airy croon takes shape, the album’s finer qualities are stripped away.

“Can’t Stop the Rock” is the discernable breaking point. Linda’s voice bares an unmistakable family resemblance, evoking the most brilliant moments of her brothers’ careers. But amidst the inane lyrical chatter and the circa 1997 alternative rock radio melodies her singing is quite tormenting. The slinky, sultry grooves and druggy sneer in “Totp” and “The Two of Us” reeks of the studio pop song-craft once taken to the airwaves by the likes of Garbage and the Cardigans. This aesthetic carries over from the songs to the shitty slick Photoshop cover art. Everything about Little Pop Rock screams ‘90s alternative chic when a blast of ‘90s noise would do this brand of pop a lot of justice. These guys should know; they pioneered the sound.

--Chad Radford

Henry Flynt & Nova’billy

2007-04-26T12:15:00.000-04:00

“I Was A Creep (Soul Mash)” b/w “Left Ear (Greensboro Senior High Song)”
Locust Music

In 1975 Henry Flynt was the hillbilly of the NYC avant-garde scene. The Greensboro, NC native embraced the drone music that emanated from the likes of La Monte Young and even did a brief stint in the Velvet Underground. Both played powerful roles in shaping his musical vision, but he had no problem poking fun at them with a wave of his fiddle stick.

Flynt retired his fiddle circa ’83 and for a time his recordings slipped into obscurity. But as his catalogue is slowly unearthed his Southern fried sensibilities culminate in hours of graceful minimalism. However, these live cuts, recorded in 1975 capture a sound torn between the Velvets’ heroine haze while eyeballing no wave looming on the horizon. Flynt breaks the tension with a rollicking country-blues strut.

“I Was A Creep (Soul Mash)” is a funky number that explodes with Saturday Night Live-style saxophone exuberance. Flynt’s Muppet voice honks through the muddy recording qualities that sand off the detailed edges.

The flip side, “Left Ear (Greensboro Senior High Song)” is a tangle of high and lonesome twang and hooks. Flynt shreds the strings with a passion that transcends the uptight arts of the times. Rockabilly guitar licks go round-for-round with the violin in a high energy exchange. Nova’billy’s line-up remains anonymous, but the record is a monumental blast in the secret history of Henry Flynt; one that casts a raucous light on his aesthetic.

--Chad Radford

Kieran Hebden and Steve Reid

2007-04-26T12:09:00.000-04:00

Tongues
Domino

Kieran Hebden and Steve Reid share a silent telepathy that draws strength from intense exploration of each other’s natural rhythmic tendencies. Tongues follows their marathon two volume Exchange Sessions of free-form rhythm and noise in which Hebden (Four Tet) and Reid (James Brown, Miles Davis) undergo a cultural, generational and stylistic collision.

This live session brings their discourse to a point sans any edits or overdubs. There are plenty of rough edges, however in songs like “Left Handed, Left Minded,” where Reid’s organic sensibilities tangle with Hebden’s electronic textures. Mono-rhythmic drums in “Greensleeves” and “The Squid” are rife with human imperfections.

Likewise, Hebden’s noises are cold and psychedelic in their mechanical motions. Both are steadfast in a complimentary push-and-pull reminiscent of the classic John Coltrane / Elvin Jones dynamic circa My Favorite Things, but carried to the fascinating fringes of abstract communication.

--Chad Radford

Zombi at The Earl (Atlanta, GA). Friday, April 13, 2007.

2007-04-14T17:26:00.000-04:00

Akron Family at The Earl (Atlanta, GA). Tuesday, February 20, 2007.

2007-04-03T11:31:00.000-04:00

Jandek at The Firehouse Theater (Richmond, VA). Sundday, March 11, 2007.

2007-03-15T00:56:00.000-04:00

The line-up for this show included Brian Jones (drums), JC Kuhl (tenor sax), Curtis Fye (electric bass) and Corwood (electric gutar / vocals).

Jandek at The Academy of Medicine (Atlanta, GA). Saturday, February 17, 2007.

2007-02-20T01:34:00.000-05:00

Jandek

2007-02-14T12:47:00.000-05:00

The Ruins of Adventure
Corwood Industries

Examining one Jandek album is like looking at a piece of a jigsaw puzzle that reveals nothing about the larger picture. The five songs that stretch out over The Ruins of Adventure, Jandek’s 48th release, ramble over warped plucking and sliding on a fretless bass. Dark atmospheres teeter between an arrhythmic plod and nagging spaciousness. Songs like “The Park” and “Bluff Brink” are the polar opposites of the tin-can haze found on early Jandek albums, like Six & Six and Chair Beside a Window.

“Completely Yours” and “Mysteries of Existence” drift like clouds that smother the moon out of the night sky, while his lyrics settle on an exhausted and despondent drawl. The words of each song unfold like one-sided dialogue demanding to be spoken aloud, but fester in the mind hours after an argument has ended. Jandek’s spite could be pointed at God, a lover or himself, but the truth is never revealed.

The soft edges of each lumbering bass swell demand that the volume be turned up high, lest real world sounds, traffic, the upstairs neighbor stomping around and the buzz of the CD player spinning drown out the peripheral subtleties. But each lumbering surge bounds back with distant, percussive pressure. The Ruins of Adventure isn’t the ideal entry point for the Jandek novice, but a higher level installment for the devoted listener. It’s a beautiful, but challenging record that words like “brooding,” “murky” and “dreary” are meant to describe.

Chad Radford

(Originally published by Flagpole Magazine, 2/14/07).

Animal Collective

2007-02-14T12:41:00.000-05:00

Hollinndagain
Paw Tracks

This CD reissue of Animal Collective’s long out-of-print Hollinndagain LP offers a glimpse into a time when the group was still learning its voice. These seven cuts were recorded at various tour stops throughout 2002 when Avey Tare, Panda Bear and Geologist were consciously crafting new, happenchance material every night. The results are a hypnotic journey where the space between sounds is as important as the sounds themselves. An underlying order isn’t always discernable, but structural minimalism stretches from mumbled words in “Pride and Fight” to the percussive crash that opens “Forest Gospel.”

“There’s An Arrow” is a pastiche of clicks and drones reminiscent of early Zoviet*France. Likewise, the foggy fidelity takes on a timelessness that feels just as natural in 2002 as it would be coming from 1982. This disjointed coherence vibrates to the tune of impenetrable savage beauty, but is nonetheless a genuinely captivating psychedelic experience.

Chad Radford

(Originally published by Resonance Magazine, issue no. 52).

Relay

2007-02-14T12:36:00.000-05:00

Still Point of Turning
Bubble Core

The phased opening riffs of “New Domestic Landscape” open Relay’s Still Point of Turning with an urgent but autumnal sense of melancholy, bliss and power pop. Eminent sensory overload is only two steps away as the guitar/keyboard rhythms audibly shift, slowing down and speeding up with lysergic fortitude, blending iridescent melody and fuzz under carefully controlled pop song parameters. Indeed numbers like “Context” and “Draw a Crooked Line” fall into the shoe gazer rock category, but there’s much more than simple Spiritualized or My Bloody Valentine worship at work throughout the recording.

The group’s principle songwriter, Paul Zeigler orchestrates thick guitar rumbles, shivering percussions and long, drawn-out rhythms that pull on the strings dangling from the fringes of subconscious thought. But before disappearing into space, a gut-punch sense of immediacy keeps the pace focused and locked in the here and now.

Chad Radford

(Originally published by Resonance Magazine, issue no. 52).

Tommy Guerrero

2007-02-14T12:34:00.000-05:00

From the Soil to the Soul
Quannum

Tommy Guerrero is a street-savvy guitarist whose songwriting falls somewhere between Tortoise and Santana. Each number flows with the same stylish enthusiasm with which he bombed Bay Area hills as a pro skater, but his recordings are often backgrounds searching for foregrounds. From the Soil to the Soul rises above by fusing head-nod rhythms with strong vocal elements.

The symphonic stabs in “Badder than Bullets” give angularity to Guerrero’s swaying, Latino reinventions of Kraut rock’s monster grooves.

Lyrics Born’s frenetic mantra in “Let Me in Let Me Out,” and Bing Ji Ling’s soulful croon in “Don’t Fake It” give direction to Guerrero’s arrangements.

Flowing rhythms are Guerrero’s strongest assets, but like dominating the SF hills in days of yore, eventually he bottoms-out. Guerrero gets by with a little help from his friends who give him a lift back to the top.

Chad Radford

(Oringially published by Resonance Magazine, issue no. 52).

Transmission

2007-02-14T12:29:00.000-05:00

Transmission
Table of the Elements

Transmission is a heart-pounding artifact in the secret history of no wave and the rise of its bastard offspring, Swans. The duo of drummer Jonathan Kane and saxophone player Daniel Galliduani’s sole EP, recorded circa 1981 and previously available only as a cassette tape, roars to life with primal abandon, blending noise and African rhythms into a frenzy of apocalyptic world music.

Kane’s staccato hammering and Galliduani’s manic sax mantras in “Battlecry” and “Surrender” snake around each other in palpitating cement mixer rhythms. “South Wind” is the dirge of a freight train on fire, barreling down the tracks without a soul at the helm.

This unearthed EP is a missing link that languished in the cracks between jazz, improv. minimalism and outsider music for nearly 25 years before finding its way onto CD. In hindsight, that quarter century gap is a God damned shame.

Chad Radford

(Originally published by Resonance Magazine, issue no. 52).

Rob Crow

2007-02-14T12:26:00.000-05:00

Living Well

Temporary Residence

As Ferris Bueller once put it, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." Pinback vocalist / guitarist Rob Crow understands this bit of universal truth and with Living Well he takes things down a notch. From the Loudon Wainwright-esque cover to the self-effacing single, “I Hate You, Rob Crow” an air of lightheartedness is imbued with sentimental pop hooks that are undeniably infectious. Crow’s simple guitar parts in “Chucked” and “Ring” ooze with nostalgia that’s cut from the same cloth as Nirvana’s “Come As You Are” and Sonic Youth’s “Disappearer,” filtered through the cannon of an indie rock slacker-turned family man. In the process, Crow doesn’t play the role of the songwriter with a capital “s” spitting snarky commentary at domestic life, but a man who’s adjusting well to his new role without forgetting his past.

--Chad Radford

(Originally published by Creative Loafing).

Dark Meat

2007-02-14T12:17:00.000-05:00

Universal Indians

Cloud Recordings

Dark Meat is a psychedelic rock combo from Athens, GA, so naturally it’s hard not to envision the group following in the footsteps Olivia Tremor Control. But Dark Meat is less concerned with crafting dreamy, druggy soundscapes than it is in filtering the history of 20th century music through a twisted rock lens.

Universal Indians is dedicated to free jazz sax man Albert Ayler, whose ghost resonates in the wailing horns of “Freedom Ritual.” The same song gives equal props to the Butthole Surfers, Neil Young and Captain Beefheart. As does “One More Trip.” Likewise, “Angel of Meth” is a straightforward nod to the swaggering melancholy of the Shangri-Las. Dark Meat places its influences not on a pedestal, but in a blender to erupt in over-the-top Southern freakouts that give people who like pretentious music something to dance to while they’re picking it apart.

Chad Radford

(Originally published by Resonance Magazine, issue no. 52.)

Glue

2007-02-14T12:12:00.000-05:00

Catch As Catch Can
Fat Beats

Glue’s rapid-fire emcee, Adeem spits rhymes with a world-weary and stylistically anti-bling mind-set. "Vessel" is an existential nightmare in which the protagonist discovers he’s a robot. The song unfolds with the same kind of “I’m sorry mamma…” sentiments buried in Eminem’s closet. But replacing the schmaltz with a solid dose of sci-fi gives the song experimental depth.

DJDQ and Maker weave slick and angular beats that bound in “A Lot To Say.” “Someone Who Dares” builds an unforgettably emotive atmosphere, layering beats over a weeping violin.

Production is underscored by a bonus instrumental disc. But without Adeem’s strident voice the boom tends to fall flat.

Catch also features a live video in which Adeem’s prowess comes into full-view. Never has a skinny white guy with a shaved head and skate shoes rocked so hard since the days of Minor Threat, bestowing the group with a sense of universal defiance.

Chad Radford

(Originally published by Resonance Magazine, issue no. 52.)

Deerhunter’s Bradford Cox speaks about his appearance, the avant-garde, and what made Berlin-era Bowie so fascinating…

2007-02-12T12:48:00.000-05:00

The five fresh-faced lads stand in low budget duds, huddled in a quasi-gang stance, and staring at the world through every photograph with a mix of meek and confrontational ambiguity. Live, the same dynamic unfolds in a haze of shimmering shoegazer bliss and art rock abandon. This is Deerhunter; Atlanta, Georgia’s saving grace for the pop avant-garde. Guitarists Colin Mee and Lockett Pundt, drummer Moses Archuleta, and bassist Josh Fauver balance dense waves of overdriven guitar resonance with propulsive staccato beats around frontman Bradford Cox’s calamitous take on a Berlin-era Bowie mystique. Deerhunter’s sound is both brash and brittle. On-stage the group’s shows are wide-eyed, cerebral affairs that are fueled by a contemptuous punch in the gut, drawing from a palette of majestic forerunners that includes everyone from My Bloody Valentine and the Jesus and Mary Chain to Sonic Youth and Stereolab.

With the release of Cryptograms, Deerhunter’s second proper full-length, and first for Chicago’s Kranky Records, the group has been swept from local band obscurity. Touring stints throughout Europe and the US with the Liars and Yeah Yeah Yeahs, kicked up a media stir that has polarized audiences.

Cox’s striking presence—he suffers from Marfan syndrome, a condition affecting the body’s connective tissue, which also afflicted Abraham Lincoln and Joey Ramone—is the target of many a poisoned pen. This, coupled with a flippant, sometime pretentious-leaning temperament has spurned ridicule for both Cox and the group. A conversation with Cox is passionate and often times wanders off of the topic in a stream-of-consciousness manner that’s reflected in the group’s songs. Engaging in such banter offers telling insights into Cox and Deerhunter’s true personalities.

Chad Radford: There's a distinct evolutionary step that occurs between your two CDs, but it's more than just changing things up from album-to-album. With each new show the group portrays a different phase, placing Deerhunter’s sound in a specific time and place. Can you tell me a little bit about this?

Bradford Cox: We have A.D.D. It's not a scheme. We are not that calculated in our decisions. I sometimes like to play guitar, which means a louder, less physical performance. Sometimes I don't feel like messing around with a guitar so I just sing, and I guess people are easily freaked out by skinny people because when I do that I just walk around and do my thing. People gawk like they're watching a car wreck. In terms of albums, I just want to make a discography that listens like a schizo mixtape that has the Shirelles followed up by Fennesz followed up by Spin Doctors. I have bigger aspirations for us sonically than being just another indie rock band.

CR: You do have a striking presence, but it's essential to the Deerhunter experience. There's an undeniable sense of honesty in how you “do your thing.” But this kind of presence also factors into the shows of artists as wide-ranging as Meatloaf, David Bowie and the Gossip. It's never directly addressed, but it's right there on stage for an entire audience to behold. Do you spend much time thinking about this?

BC: I try to not think about it too much because if I did, I would probably freak out and quit. I don't think of myself as abnormal in my head. It is very frustrating. Who is more attractive, anyway? Patti Smith or Avril Lavigne? I look how I look. I don't see any problem with it.

CR: There is a separation between the live Deerhunter experience vs. the records. What really separates the two?

BC: We can layer more acoustic instruments and room sounds more on the record, and have greater control over mixing issues. Live, it’s just loud rock instruments; bang blam. I try to make the shows engaging but sometimes I get bored and would rather be at home watching Sister Act 2 in flannel pajamas. With a record I can stop and start at various points. If I get bored with a song I can stop it in the middle and move on. But when we're into it there is nothing more fun than a good show.

CR: Do you think the songs on Cryptograms accurately capture the spirit and drive of the group?

BC: We haven't established enough of our own identity to say so just yet. The next album will be a lot less emotionally convicted. It will be more detached. That's how we are in general; we are a lot less emotional and tired.

CR: What differentiates the first record from Cryptograms?

BC: I view the first record as a total failure. I had the intention of making this off-kilter, collage, guitar, drum, bass record. I wanted it to sound like the Fall or something. But it comes out sounding like the era in which it was recorded, which is something that I really despise. It sounds like 2002—angry, post-hardcore dance punk. We were really young and angry. I'm embarrassed about anger now. Cryptograms is a subdued and introverted album. It's not the punk attitude.

CR: Is Cryptograms a reaction to the first album?

BC: Not really. It developed out of different circumstances, altogether. There were a lot more intense personal things going on. It was less about anger and frustration and more just being stunned or spaced-out by everything. And also, things like physical illness, fevers, and weakness played into it. I had walking pneumonia when we did the failed first attempt. I had the flu when we recorded the second half. The vocals on all the pop songs are really weird because I was so congested. I always thought I would go back and redo them, but we never did. At the beginning of "Spring Hall Convert" you can hear me hacking up some major junk.

CR: When I first crossed paths with Deerhunter circa 2001, you were interested in this idea you called "kitchen avant-garde."

BC: The reference comes from the idea that I used to see a lot of great shows in Athens and they all took place in kitchens. Everything was duct taped together and it had this aesthetic that I was fascinated with. Everyone had sloppily thrown together drum sets that looked like they just came out of the garbage. Everything was lo-fi but not in a self-conscious, thrift store chic, fanzine way. It was cute and childish in a way that said we have ideas but we can't scrape our asses off the ground enough to get them together, so we're going to do it as is, which is adorable and endearing. It's also a reference specifically to the Raincoats album, The Kitchen Tapes.

The avant-garde fascinated me when I was in high school. I was young enough that the word "avant-garde" wasn't a cliché. It was something that rang with a "this could freak out your parents vibe." The Velvet Underground is avant-garde to me. David Bowie is the most avant-garde thing I can think of. It's literary and it's challenging.

CR: There's a very Berlin-era Bowie aesthetic to your live performance.

BC: The Berlin image is something that I'm very attracted to. Is he sick? Is he coming off of something? The cover art for Low has this very hung over, strung out kind of ambient beauty to it. What is that orange light? Is this a post-apocalyptic sky? It's ambient in that it creates a moment. It's very evocative and it's very unclear. If there's one thing that we succeed in very well with Cryptograms, It’s evoking a feeling of someone who's woken up after being strung out one too many nights... It's the feeling of being lovesick and very spaced-out.

(Originally published by Stylus Magazine 2/12/07).

Matt Valentine & Erika Elder (MV+EE) at Eyedrum (Atlanta, GA). Wednesday, February 7, 2007

2007-02-10T01:11:00.000-05:00

Some Soviet Station Reunion at The Earl (Atlanta, GA). Saturday, January 13, 2007.

2007-01-30T12:52:00.000-05:00

Ed Wilcox & Zack Kouns at The Black House (Stone Mountain, GA). Sunday, January 21, 2007.

2007-01-25T00:01:00.000-05:00

Top photo is Ed Wilcox (Temple of Bon Matin).
Second photo is Ed Wilcox (drums) and Zack Kouns.
The rest of the photos are of Zack Kouns.

Mission of Burma at The Earl (Atlanta, GA). Saturday, January 13, 2007

2007-01-24T23:47:00.000-05:00

The Black Lips w/ The Mighty Hannibal at The Earl (Atlanta, GA). Friday, January 12, 2007

2007-01-24T23:09:00.000-05:00

Things Fall Apart: Simon Joyner Embraces The Beauty Of Breaking Down

2007-01-10T13:12:00.000-05:00

"I like things most when they’re on the verge of falling apart,” reveals Simon Joyner, the austere Midwestern indie folk fixture whose stark and fatefully autonomous sound has crystallized with pastoral and avantgarde purity. For more than a decade the Omaha, Nebraska singer/songwriter has honed his craft employing lyrical symbolism, crumbling imagery and an unassuming, post-Dylan mannerism to develop characters and conditions in his songs. Swaggering between ramshackle home recordings and humbly sophisticated studio output, Joyner’s warbling voice wafts over a procession of pianos, strings and percussive clatter giving rise to a drunken and deteriorating waltz. Myriad proficient players, including jazz icons Ken Vandermark and indie rock luminary John Darniell (Mountain Goats) have contributed to his songs, but breakdown is inevitable.

“It’s so exciting for me, watching to see if a group is going to get through a song,” he continues. “It forces people to stretch their ideas of what a song really can be, especially since the kind of music I make is not jazz, and it’s not drone music. There are chords that have to be played and to keep it exciting I like to throw as many wrenches into it as possible. Mess it up as much as I can without demolishing it. Take a pretty song and make it resist how melodic it really is so that people don’t know why it’s catchy, but it is. Even though it sounds totally distorted and dirty, it’s still a pop song.”

Since the early ‘90s Joyner’s legacy of futility has been strewn across eight proper full-length recordings and dozens of singles and compilations. His songs have appeared on a smattering of under the radar outlets including Bloomington, IN’s Jagjaguwar Records, Chicago’s Truckstop Records and his own homespun label Sing, Eunuchs! As his more obscure offerings slip out of print, demand for his fleeting body of work only increases.

Cutting his teeth in the burgeoning pre-grunge and lo-fi scene of Omaha in the early ‘90s as a folk singer, Joyner was a bit of a mismatch to his fuzzed-out and flannel-clad peers. Drawing comparisons to frazzled folk shouters such as Loudon Wainwright III and Bob Dylan to more pensive songwriters Will Oldham and Leonard Cohen, Joyner’s voice embodies a wry and literate tone. And though his songs have been publicly praised by everyone from Beck to fellow Nebraskan Conor Oberst (Bright Eyes), it was an early boost of confidence from over seas that kept him going.
After finishing his first vinyl release The Cowardly Traveler Pays His Toll in 1994 drummer and label partner Chris Deden mailed a copy to late British DJ and formidable tastemaker John Peel. He had done the same with Umbilical Chords, Joyner’s first cassette demo in 1992, but Peel didn’t think much of it. His second release, Room Temperature garnered a few spins but it was The Cowardly Traveler that reeled him in. Although Joyner didn’t think much about it at the time, it led to a career changing act of fate that came to be known as the “Peel incident.”

During one radio broadcast Peel played both sides of the record in it their entirety; an act only rumored to have happened one other time with an album by the Fall.

This sparked a flurry of chatter amongst European music journalists, but at home in the states Joyner remained blissfully unaware of what Peel had stirred up. It wasn’t until touring in the Netherlands sometime later that it was brought to his attention. “All of these journalists had set up interviews with me and that was always their first question, ‘So how has your career changed since the John Peel incident?’” Joyner explains in a mock German accent. “I was like ‘What are you talking about?’ They filled me in and said it was absolutely unheard of for him to do something like that and that everyone there had been talking about it. I couldn’t even speak anymore.

Over the years a friend of Joyner’s who lived in Germany had been sending him tapes of occasional broadcasts of Peel’s shows. Apparently he missed that one.

To answer the journalists’ questions the Peel incident affected Joyner in more profound ways than increased record sales. “Once his support kicked in it made me feel less nervous about what I was doing,” he explains. “It gave it validity for me when I was still very much an underground name, even in the United States,” he continues. “To be in the place where he was and to listen to a crudely recorded record by someone that nobody had heard of and to say that it’s just as good or important as the Fall or Nirvana’s record, was great for me. Maybe he had some laundry to do or something,” he laughs. “It was a vinyl record so he at least had to sit there and flip it over.”

Pressed in an edition of only 1,000 copies, The Cowardly Traveler has been canonized amongst fans as the holy grail of Joyner’s records. It’s “crudely recorded” aesthetic has morphed into a conceptual element of his music that transcends production qualities, often manifesting itself in pristine and professionally engineered recordings.

Joyner’s two most recent efforts Lost with the Lights On (Jagjaguwar) and Stranger Blues (Catsup Plate), a collaboration with Dennis Callaci (Refrigerator/ lo-fi citadel Shrimper Records), polarize at opposing ends of his approach to making music.

Recorded at King Sized Studio in Los Angeles with Michael Krassner (Edith Frost/Boxhead Ensemble), Lost With the Lights On is a dense and crystal-clear collection of songs that resonate with natural tones and impeccable sound quality. Stranger Blues resonates with a different character, evoking the grit and lo-fi din of his earlier homemade recordings. To Joyner, though the processes of recording and the outcome are different, it’s all part of the same body of work. “With Lost… I knew we were going to make a really nice sounding recording and I didn’t want it to sound too cold or sterile. The band ran through the songs once. I didn’t want them to learn their parts too well,” he adds, running through a list of performers on the record. Krassner along with Fred Longberg-Holm, Eric Heywood, Wil Hendricks, and Jim White played everything from bass and piano to an arsenal of electric and acoustic stringed instruments under the name “the Wind-Up Birds.” “These are all really phenomenal players, but I like putting them in a situation where they don’t have a chance to be perfect, because that’s where I am,” he continues. Krassner had been hired to mix something of some major label band and they asked him to book time in a studio. He booked time at Capital and hurried through it and used the rest of his hours to do my record.

For Stranger Blues, Joyner and Callaci convened under much humbler surroundings. “We recorded with one microphone plugged into a 1970s tube receiver he had in his living room,” he continues. “I don’t do a record in a studio because that’s the important one and these other projects get less attention. It’s just a different side to what I do and I really love doing them both. It’s all Simon Joyner music to me.”

In October Jagjaguwar and Unread Records will release Beautiful Losers, a double LP/CD anthology of Joyner’s most obscure recordings. A reissue of his debut full-length, Room Temperature will follow in December. Bringing these songs
back from the abyss gives a new platform for these fragmented works to reassemble and crumble apart all over again, ushering Joyner continually forward through the beauty of breaking down.

Words and photos by Chad Radford (Originally published by ART PAPERS Sept./Oct. 2005).

Ruthann Friedman

2007-01-04T13:21:00.000-05:00

Hurried Life: Lost Recordings 1965-1971
Water

Hurried Life is a snapshot of Ruthann Friedman at a time when her life was anything but hurried. Her magically wholesome voice exudes an innocence and beauty in these reel-to-reel demos that are of another time and place. The surreal folk whir of songs like “That’s Alright” and “Typical Sunday” are far removed from her recently written liner notes about her first cocaine experience, which resulted in the paranoid strum that drives “Method Madness.” This is the same songwriter who penned the flower power classic “Windy” (as in everyone knows it’s…), which shines brightly amongst these dreamy and drug-addled gems. Each song fits together like pages from a diary, capturing a breezy day in the life of the psychedelic ‘60s. These sounds still resonate in the chords of neo-folkies, like Devendra Banhart, Jana Hunter and Joanna Newsom; but are projected here with breathtaking purity and authenticity.
--Chad Radford

Jandek at The Empty Bottle (Chicago, IL). Wednesday, September 20, 2006.

2006-12-28T00:16:00.000-05:00

The line-up for this show featured (from left to right) Josh Abrams (bass), Jandek (vocals and guitar) and John McIntyre (drums)

Shellac at The 40 Watt Club (Athens, GA). Tuesday, August 8, 2006.

2006-12-27T23:37:00.000-05:00

Steve Albini

Todd Trainer

Todd Trainer

Todd Trainer

Steve, Todd and Bob Weston

Table of the Elements Festival No. 4: Bohrium

2006-12-27T02:14:00.000-05:00

Eyedrum. Atlanta, GA
8/31/06 -- 9/4/06

An overwhelming sense of time groaning to a halt swept over Atlanta’s Eyedrum Art & Music Gallery on Thursday, August 1 as Loren Connors wandered onto the stage, hidden under a veil of darkness. A massive movie screen towered over the blackened gallery, flickering with life as scenes from Carl Dreyer’s 1928 silent masterpiece, The Passion of Joan of Arc played out. Somewhere in the background, Connors was motionless. His frail figure silhouetted against small red and white lights emanating from amps, pedals and other pieces of sound-bending gear. The only real signs of his presence were the resounding, reverb-drenched washes of guitar tones wafting through the air, hovering in the heavens somewhere between dreary and angelic. As the slow motion scene unfolded, each droning pull on the strings bled into an atmosphere, demanding onlookers to slow down. Don’t try to wrap your head around any of this too quickly.

This was the beginning of Table of the Elements Festival no. 4: Bohrium, a five-day journey into the wilds of avant-garde music and film. From the mammoth peaks of Rhys Chatham’s Guitar Army to the hidden valleys inside Tony Conrad’s violin drones, Bohrium surveyed a spectacle of abstract articulation channeled through the beauty of imperfect sound and vision.

Connors kicked-off the festival with an evening dedicated to John Fahey. Just as Fahey had picked and plucked a truly alternative legacy to mountain man guitar playing, Kentuckian Keenan Lawler and the Atlanta’s San Agustin offered their own takes on phantasmagoric strumming.

Lawler’s played a resonator guitar, subjected to a universe of pedals, slides and bows, winding through subtly mutating interpretations of rustic strumming.
San Agustin followed with a morphine dose of warm, staccato drones; each note lingered in dark resonance.

The second night placed an emphasis on film. Tony Conrad hosted “An Evening in the 1960s Underground,” showcasing works by experimental filmmakers, Jack Smith, Ira Cohen and Piero Heliczer.

Together these films were a heavy load to take in during just one sitting. Smith’s Flaming Creatures invoked the twisted mind of the psychedelic 60s. Images of supple human forms morphed into grotesque objects of torment. Writhing bodies blurred the lines between ecstasy and torture, unfolding in what Conrad called “the earthquake orgy scene.”

Before the film, Conrad’s co-host and Atlanta film buff Andy Ditzler described the film as a work of “ecstatic comedy,” which was somewhat misleading. Ecstatic horror would be more appropriate, and might have better prepared viewers for those “earthquake orgy” scenes. When the film ended handfuls of distraught viewers fled the gallery looking puzzled and somewhat violated.

Atlanta’s Hubcap City provided the sole musical respite for the evening, churning out malformed folk dirges that culminated in a gait of out-of-tune guitars, wavering junkyard ballads and cling-clang clatter.

On the third night Austin, Texas duo One Umbrella and Atlanta’s Deerhunter steered the festival back toward the realm of rock music, though both acts have their feet planted firmly in the traditions of the avant-garde. Pip Chodorov’s 2002 film, Charlemagne 2 hit the audience with a dose of thought-scrambling motions as pianist Charlemagne Palestine methodically pounds away on the keys. With each plod the color of the screen changed blasting on-lookers with an unrelenting flicker effect.

Rhys Chatham headlined with a show dedicated to his compositions from the 1970s and ‘80s. As his guitar army took the stage the festival had turned a complete 180 degrees from Connors’ opening set. Chatham stood before a rapt audience, beaming at both onlookers and the seven young players he had recruited for the show. Chatham is the closest thing to a rock star the TotE pantheon will ever know. He exudes a presence that’s part Chuck Berry and part John Cage.

Intense concentration came over the players as he approached them all, face-to-face, strumming the chords of “Guitar Trio,” bringing everyone into the hive mind. As layers of overdriven chords crashed into each other, a shimmering distortion created a sense of majestic harmony.

The following night Conrad performed behind a long white sheet covering the stage as flood light blasted his silhouette onto the sheet as he grinded away on a violin. An oscillating fan provided a ripple effect, causing his shadow to dance, shrinking and expanding with each wave.

Shifting pitches and subtle changes in tone collided, exposing entirely new dimensions of sound revealed when rhythm and melody are removed from the music. It was the perfect head-cleaner, making way for Rhys Chatham’s Essentialist to bring the show to a close.

With Essentialist Chatham deconstructs the basic components of heavy metal by drawing out the riffs and complexities of more recent metal group’s, such as Earth, Sunn O))) and Sleep. Guitarist David Daniel is the group’s secret weapon. Before the show Chatham proclaimed that he had always wanted to play like Black Sabbath guitarist Tony Iommi but never could until Daniel taught him how.
The group consisted of four members of the guitar army from the night before. Arcing riffs swelled with long, repeating motions over drums that spun like the blades of a helicopter.

This was Essentialist’s grand unveiling; a showcase of a new and powerful work from one of the old guards of the downtown, Manhattan art rock scene, and it was the peak of the festival. Just as Chatham broke new ground in the ‘70s by merging minimalism with the power of a punk band, like the Ramones, this foray into the black metal avant-garde plants his methods into a modern context.

A flood of fresh faces filled the gallery for an evening of members from Acid Mother Temple and the Ruins playing musical chairs in a show of noisy, psychedelic folk music. This finale was a cross-town competitor that jumped onto Bohrium at the last minute. But after four days of sensory overload from TotE’s epic display of music and film, for anyone left standing, the fifth day became a day of rest.
--Chad Radford

(Published by Signal To Noise Magazine. December 1, 2006).

Eric Gaffney

2006-12-26T16:35:00.000-05:00

Uncharted Waters
Old Gold

Uncharted Waters is Eric Gaffney’s second solo offering and a nice companion piece to the recent deluxe reissue of Sebadoh III. The 27 songs that make up the disc evoke the warped pop sensibilities that countered Lou Barlow’s emotional frailty during Sebadoh’s middle period circa Smash You’re Head on the Punk Rock and Bubble and Scrape. Framing Gaffney’s lo-fi MO next to Barlow’s considerably more polished songwriting and production on his Emoh debut is a revealing study in the genetic make-up of indie rock’s founding fathers. Songs like “Leave Me Alone” and “Shark Attack” are relentlessly homemade while “Too Bad Luck” hones a rock and roll jeer. Gaffney’s untamed voice and out-of-tune jangle are tailor-made for basement recording. Not to overstate the obvious, but if songs like “In Line” or “Singing Iceberg” were captured by any more evolved means of recording they would be nowhere nearly as infectious. These songs were recorded over a ten year period, and intuitively shift back and forth like a time-lapse take on a decade of Gaffney’s swaying tastes and trends in songwriting. He stays where he’s comfortable and as a result Uncharted Waters is a last stronghold for the indie rock ‘90s, when crappy fidelity anchored a thriving scene. Clocking in at 70 minutes, The ablun can be a bit of an endurance test, but every scrap of sound, every noise and every note is an essential part of what Gaffney does. The recording feels a little out of time and a little out of place, but it in this context Gaffney sounds better than ever.
--Chad Radford

Indian Jewelry at The Drunken Unicorn (Atlanta, GA). Saturday, December 2, 2006

2006-12-03T15:20:00.000-05:00

From the Kitchen Archives Series

2006-10-18T11:25:00.000-04:00

New Music New York 1979
Steve Reich & Musicians, Live 1977
Amplified New Music Meets Rock, 1981-1986
Orange Mountain Music

In a move to preserve decades worth of live recordings from turning to dust, New York’s long-standing avant-garde venue, The Kitchen – backed by Philip Glass’ Orange Mountain Music label – launched the “From The Kitchen Archives” series. Each disc documents a major evolutionary step for the Manhattan art rock scene, and it is the third chapter that is it’s most formidable. Amplified: New Music Meets Rock, 1981-1986 captures a time when such art-damaged and punk-afflicted luminaries as Rhys Chatham, Sonic Youth and Swans first plugged-in, giving a dose of feedback and electricity to the avant-garde.

The first release, New Music, New York 1979 presents a scene of artists, including Glass, Pauline Oliveros, Tony Conrad and others challenging the role of the composer in modern music. Each artist brings the music into themselves, erasing the authoritarianism that so often happens in the world of composers and musicians. Oliveros’ crash course in “deep listening” titled, “The Tuning Meditation” demands a much different kind of concentration than Charlemagne Palestine’s mad-man grunting in “Untitled for Solo Voice.”

Steve Reich and Musicians, Live 1977 places the emphasis on just one composer’s performance where successive patterns of piano and violin rhythms undulate infinitely. The movements of swaying microphones suspended over the stage sculpt the sound as much as the performers by capturing unconscious motions, squelching feedback, a shuffle in the audience and the faint rumble of traffic outside.

While these first two installments wander dangerously close to academia in their defiance of academic standards, Amplified captures a generation of musicians, hell bent on destruction. Archaic performances of Sonic Youth’s “World Looks Red” and “Shaking Hell” kick off Amplified with mammoth fury. Each song is carved out with noise and spontaneity that’s much more abrasive than the version of these songs on Confusion is Sex.

Swans’ “Weakling” grumbles to life with all of the sludge and mechanical motions of tank treads, while Christian Marclay’s “His Master’s Voice” is a fractured bout of turntablism bound by symphonic stutters and disembodied voices.

But not everything on Amplified is driven by nihilism. Arthur Russell’s “Hiding Your Present From You” is a supple bit of cello strings and gentle crooning. And through the dull hue of tape noise, Rhys Chatham’s “Guitar Trio” bursts with perfect and overdriven tonal harmony.

Though each number has been considerably touched-up, the audible grime is an integral part of these recordings. As such, the series doesn’t offer much for audiophiles, but it is a cache of unrefined songs whose true power and significance reaches beyond the rough sonic edges.

The skronking chaos of Elliot Sharp’s closer, “Crowds and Power” is no small metaphor for the volumes these artists harnessed by merging rock and the avant-garde. It was a meeting of Earth-rattling distortion and head-cleaning expression that resonates with as much force now as it did two decades ago.

--Chad Radford (Originally published by Signal To Noise magazine, Fall 2006. Issue no. 43)

Zandosis: Improvised Explosive Devices

2006-10-11T15:15:00.000-04:00

There’s nothing subtle about Zandosis’ latest CD, George W. Bush Go Straight to Fucking Hell, but in the age of terror, improvised explosive devices and Fox News, subtlety is out-of-fashion. Made up of Marshall Avett (saxophone/guitar), Tony Gordon (bass) and Stewart Voegtlin (percussions), the Atlanta noise trio recorded GWBGSTFH in the midst of the 2004 election cycle. Each song reads like blood-stained diary entries from a disgruntled political junky.

Grotesque song titles say it all: “Dick Cheney Bleeding to Death on the Streets of Detroit.” “John Ashcroft Flattened Under the Weight of a 5,200 lb. Replica of the Ten Commandments.” “Bill Frist Kept Alive In A Persistent Vegetative State and Broadcast 24 Hrs. A Day On His Own Cable News Network.”

Each number is a knee-jerk reaction to the right wing shenanigans playing out under the shadow of the Bush Whitehouse. “When I wrote the song tittles I was thinking about who was making news and toward whom I was feeling a little anger,” Avett says.

Each song is a blast of angst and sheer release channeled through avenues of improvisation and hardcore music. Avett’s voice rings out like a game show host, rattling off titles before a wall of frenzied noise fires like blasts from a machine gun. When the dust settles, 34 songs unfold in a whirlwind that clocks in around 23 minutes, followed by an epic tribute to jazz drummer Elvin Jones.

At the root GWBGSTFH is a hardcore record in the Dead Kennedy’s, DOA tradition of politically minded, hardcore humor. “I don’t know if that come across when we play these songs, because they tend to be bursts of noise,” Avett says. “But somewhere in there is a hardcore attitude waiting to escape from the skulls of a noise band.”

--Chad Radford

Nina Nastasia

2006-10-11T15:11:00.000-04:00

On Leaving
Fat Cat Records

Nina Nastasia doesn’t throw any surprise punches with On Leaving, but hits hard with stark emotions and a powerfully understated voice. As a songwriter, she crafts epic melancholy that flows with effortless beauty, underscored by the warm reverberations of the wood of her guitar in “One Old Woman” or the ivory keys in “Brad Haunts A Party.” And when she offers “we don’t get around like we used to do,” it’s hard not to see her as a black-clad kid sister to Hank Williams.

“Dumb I Am” is a self-effacing folk ballad that’s driven by womanly insecurities. But rather than let her fears reduce her to tears, Nastasia finds strength in summoning her troubles and letting them fly in songs of hard loving and hard heartbreak.

--Chad Radford

A Conversation with Tony Conrad

2006-09-24T01:04:00.000-04:00

Delving into any recording that bares the mark of the seminal avant-garde label Table of the Elements demands a higher plain of listening than the average pop, jazz or modern classical record. The label’s catalogue is a celebration of experimentation and minimalism, but not by the standards of Philip Glass or Steve Reich’s sense of narcotic repetition. Rather, each release is an exploration of the imperfections of a single sound grinding into infinity, and the uncharted dimensions contained within each anomaly in tone and texture. Everyone from John Cale to John Fahey to Captain Beefheart have found a home for the most unorthodox chapters of their careers under TotE’s wings -- chapters considered too far out by most labels’ standards.

Much of TotE’s history is rooted in its work as an archival label, documenting lesser-known enclaves of the downtown, Manhattan art rock scene of the 1960s and beyond. In exploring the periphery surrounding drone rock icons the Velvet Underground, label owner Jeff Hunt discovered violinist and filmmaker Tony Conrad.
Conrad landed in New York in the early ‘60s after graduating from Harvard, and was drawn to the city’s blossoming Fluxus art scene.

A long out-of-print 1972 collaboration between Conrad and legendary Kraut rockers Faust, titled Outside the Dream Syndicate appeared as one of TotE’s earliest releases. Afterward, Conrad became the label’s flagship artist.

To apply the term “minimalism” to his craft is a bit misleading. To the uninitiated ear Conrad’s recordings can sound like little more than a constant drone ground out on a violin. But shifting pitches and subtle changes in tone reveal entirely new worlds in the sounds he creates.

Thursday, June 29. 2006. 11 a.m.

Chad Radford: I downloaded a song from Lime Wire by Rubin Steiner, called “Your Life is Like a Tony Conrad Concert.” Are you familiar with this song?

Tony Conrad: Oh yeah!

CR: What is that all about? I haven’t ever heard of Rubin Steiner before, and I stumbled on to it by typing in Tony Conrad.

TC: I started hearing rumors about this song. Then I actually managed to get in touch with him. I just called him and said, ‘Hi, it’s me,’ and he said, ‘REALLY!!!’ We had a pleasant conversation. He sent me a copy of the disc and a note that says:

Dear Tony, I hope you’ll enjoy these recordings. Respect. You are a star in my sky.
--Rubin Steiner.

The song was a hit in Europe for a while. We haven’t actually met, though.

CR: I can’t make out the lyrics, other than when he says “your life is like a Tony Conrad concert,” so I can’t tell if it’s funny or not.

TC: It was definitely funny, to me.

CR: The last time you came through Atlanta to play at Eyedrum in March it was the first time I had ever seen you perform live and it was the complete opposite of what I was expecting to see.

TC: Really?

CR: I didn’t expect you to be so funny.

TC: Funny?

CR: The films you showed and you’re presence in general caught me off guard. I was expecting to walk into a scene where lots of people were scratching their chins while this grand and lofty show swept everyone off of their feet. There was some element of that, but the irreverence I saw on stage was not what I expected. It was almost… punk rock.

TC: Gee… From the beginning I came into the culture scene with a bit of a chip on my shoulder. The reason I moved to New York in the beginning was because I was really attracted to the things that were going on with Fluxus. That was an early ‘60s movement that had a lot of aggressive humor mixed in with the cultural activities. In other words, Fluxus was iconoclastic and brash and rough and tumble in the way that it treated the heroes of Western culture. But at the same time, as it was vicious and damaging in it’s outlook it was also having a lot of fun and trying to make an environment in which the audience would only find that they were being upset if they were too invested in the status quo. So I’ve always felt that a dash of humor helps to make things more comfortable while you’re delivering a serious message.

CR: This was also the first time I had a chance to see your film, Flicker, and again I had no idea it would be such damaging experience. It gave me the feeling that I want horror films to give me in that sense that I was totally hypnotized and had to force myself to look away a few times.

TC: Good stuff should be really strong, don’t you think? I just went to a horror film conference in Bremen last week. Part of the theme of the conference was that capitalism is a vampire that is thriving on the blood, but also we have an attachment to horror because we are in the middle of it. We’re surrounded by these themes and it’s a strong element in the metaphors for our lives today. The conference had a workshop for kids and I thought to myself that it was very strange until I went to the workshop. They were playing cartoons and of course cartoons are full of monsters and horror and strange and frightening situations. In a way these strong cultural moments are ways for people to acclimate themselves to different and new situations and to share these experiences and I think that’s why I like them… I like them when they’re alternative.

CR: With Flicker you’re only seeing abstract images and flashes and a lot of what you zone in on are hallucinations because of the ways the cones and rods in your eyes react to the movement on the screen. It struck me as being what you, the viewer, bring into it, and to equate that to a horror film, says more about the viewer.

TC: That’s right. Good stuff should be like that, I think. It lets you recognize for yourself the things that are honest about your own experience. It’s up to you.

CR: Have you ever tried your hand at making a more coherent or feature-length horror film?

TC: I’ve thought about it, but threw it right out of my mind. It’s not my thing.

CR: You are a professor of video arts at SUNY Buffalo, correct?

TC: Yeah, that’s exactly right.

CR: I sought out Tony Conrad as a musician, not as a film maker. I came to you with a working knowledge of people like Phillip Glass, Terry Reilly, Steve Reich. What people think of as the names associated with "minimalism." I approached your records from that frame of mind. But you are a totally different character from any of these other guys. I almost hesitate to use the word minimalism when talking about what you do. You have a record, called Early Minimalism, but does it make you cringe when people throw that word at you?

TC: Well, one of the reasons I gave Early Minimalism that title is that I thought it was funny to call something "early minimalism." It’s sort of like the Beatles put out their record Early Beatles but its one of their later records. It was the first record I had put out aside from the one with Faust. It made a reference to the music I had been playing thirty years earlier. I wanted to make it clear that I expected people to identify that relationship. People know that musical tendency as minimalism. This was early minimalism. I wanted to create that linkage. At the same time it was ludicrous in some respect for me to make a piece in the ‘80s or ‘90s and call it Early Minimalism. There is both an element of irony in it and also an element of trying to set up those kinds of references. As far as the names themselves, there’s been a lot of interest in the art world in minimalism lately. But if you go to a book on ‘minimalism’ in an art book store you won’t find much on La Monte Young or Steve Reich or Terry Reilly. What you’ll find are references to an entirely different group of people who were painters and sculptors. This word, ‘minimalism’ is bandied about, and it is a pretty good word. It doesn’t really stick on any better than any other words…

CR: Words like ‘alternative music’ or ‘indie rock?’

TC: Yeah. All of these terms are really fluid and the invention of people like your self who are writing about things and need to get a hand hold on it. Minimalism captures one thing that is very interesting, and that is that it was a kind of important lesson of the ‘60s. That we – that is the arts community – learned that if you narrowed your tension to a small set of important problems you could come up with very big results. For example, a painter who decided he’s only going to use one color on his painting, would find out an awful lot about what the relationship is between paint and pictures and that color and other colors and so on. In the same way, by narrowing your tension to a single set of sounds and then focusing your attention more carefully, as we begin to do on the inner harmonic structure of the sounds when you have harmonic relationships in the tones. You begin to hear things that you hardly expected to hear. A new kind of listening pops into existence suddenly. Not only that, but as you focus in this tiny territory and let a lot of other things slide, as is the case with a lot of my music. A lot of times rhythm was just let go. Even noise -- all kinds of noises were let go. And melody was just let fly out the window. So what have you got if you have music without rhythm and melody? It turns out that when you narrow the focus that much, some how you begin to hear a different kind of melody and a different kind of rhythm that’s always been there, sitting inside those notes, very delicately, but hasn’t had a chance to come out in that form until you silence the other elements that have been creating activity and distraction around it. This is really the secret of minimalism. If you pay attention to things that you’re really most deeply concerned with and let the other things be set aside momentarily, the other aspects of your work will shine in a different light. That can be very instructive. For me, in my live performance, one of the things I like to do is to bring a situation in front of an audience that they don’t expect to find rewarding. For example, where I might play one note for a minute or two minutes; and if I play one note for a couple of minutes, no one is going to expect that there’s very much of anything about melody or rhythm or different feelings or qualities of music that come out of that. But of course by just hanging in with the material that you have picked out, in this case a note, it turns out that the music is still there. The music glows beautifully inside of one note. Suddenly it turns out that you’ve got the whole thing. You can have a whole orchestra – I don’t want to give you the impression that I think an orchestra is the big deal, because I don’t think it is. But you can have a whole band, or you can have all the things that you wished for popping up right inside one note. It’s not just the sort of thing where you can think, ‘oh gee, isn’t that interesting…’ It’s a situation that has some kind of equally interesting emotional impulses that go along with it. It can be a very rewarding and rich engagement with the music. Not just a superficial thing, but it can provide the things that music does provide for people. What people find in music is always very surprising.

Some people find more social identity in music than anywhere else in their lives. They find that the most important thing for them in their social life is their music. The most important thing for their inner life is their music. To heck with everybody else. I go into my room and put on my headphones and I go into this universe and it’s where I belong. Both of these things are really very strange.

CR: Strange and fascinating.

TC: The most fascinating thing is that they are very powerful and they make you spend money. They make you do things that you can’t believe you would have done before you liked the music. It changes your friends. It makes you spend hours and hours learning to play an instrument. All kinds of strange things happen. I have wandered a bit from your questions, but hopefully you can find some nuts and berries in there to use.

CR: Are you familiar with Bill Monroe?

TC: Oh Bill Monroe… That’s one of the greatest musicians of all America of all time. He was an amazing inventor.

CR: When I saw your last show in Atlanta a few months back, in my head I really wanted to put you in the context of someone like Bill Monroe as opposed to Phillip Glass.

TC: That’s a great honor. One of the most amazing things to come out of American music is the high, lonesome sound. There’s nothing like it that I know of anywhere in the world. It has this precedent in terms of Appalachian performance. But you don’t really find the high lonesome sound that Bill Monroe invented with his blue grass music until it just comes full grown right in to existence in his voice and playing. That’s my feeling, anyway. It’s a special kind of thing and I was inspired by that very much. I think there are several features in that music that have carried over directly into what I try to do. One of them is not using vibrato and having a real strident kind of tone that has a mellow side and an aggressive side at the same time. When Bill Monroe’s band gets rolling it’s going to roll right over you, like a freight train. At the same time, it’s so sad and mellow that you just can’t believe that these two things can mix in that proportion… Don’t get me started on Bill Monroe.

CR: The pace of his playing and just the fact that he was such a hardy character also strike a chord with me when thinking in terms of Tony Conrad.

TC: Cool. What’s also interesting is where you say Bill Monroe's sound is slow paced. But if you listen carefully to what’s going on, they’re going lickity split! One of the things I like about the slow playing that I do is the way that by focusing carefully on the qualities of the pitches and letting the pitches be controlled very carefully -- each pitch and every note is made up of hundreds of vibrations, and if those vibrations interact with each other, you get all kinds of movement between the different kinds of vibrations. It’s just like what you get when you see the wheels on a wagon in a movie go backwards, because of the spokes, there’s the movement of the film and the movement of the wheels and when they interact you get these weird effects. Those famous kinds of effects happen in sounds that are carefully controlled if you keep them together, and you get all kinds of mixes. People are familiar with the kind of buzzing you get in your ear if you have two trumpets playing or two sopranos singing together. When you get the notes going just right, they make their very very very fast rhythms happen. There might be no rhythm on the surface, but there’s an inside kind of rhythm, tucked away inside the note, like some kind of missing dimension, like what they talk about with string theory. In those hidden dimension there’s all of the movement and rhythmic activity that’s really wonderful to hear.

CR: The kinds of subtle sounds that you are talking about are very much in line with improvisation and avant-garde music in the South. When people talk about improv. people tend to think of skronking, New York kind of chaotic jazz sounds. In the South you have authors like William Faulkner, Walker Pearcy or Erskine Caldwell. There’s a rhythm to it that’s distinctive to the South that’s concerned with subtleties and not just blaring, expressive noises. You also get that indigenous improv. with artists like the Shaking Ray Levis, LaDonna Smith and Davey Williams. It’s music that’s paying attention to the sounds of insects and leaf blowers and humidity.

TC: Henry Flint really wanted to self-identify with a cracker Southerner, or as he would call it, a hillbilly, but he’s nothing like a hillbilly, I must say. But he kept the Southern accent, I suppose. “Improvisation” is a problematic word. Like “minimalism” it sloshes around and dumps here and there. It winds up not meaning too terribly much. I think most people who are considered to be the prime examples of improvisation are people who have a certain number of set licks that they know. Musicians are doing their music. They know things and piece them together on the fly, but the idea that you’re just teetering at the end of the diving board and floating in freefall isn’t very true. Lou Reed did that in a very weird context for me. When I first met him he would free associate rock and roll songs on the fly. He would just start a beat in 4/4 and Lou would sing and the words came with the music, just like that.... Which is why I always thought of Lou as a "rock and roll Animal." It was just in his head and blood and of course he was bathed in that as well.

CR: After becoming familiar with your recordings and having heard the John Cale CDs that Table of the Elements released, it really puts Lou Reed’s Metal Machine Music in a different context. You see things that grand rock journalists, like Lester Bangs wrote about it, but you never hear anyone talk about what John Cale was doing in the early ‘60s before Metal Machine Music.

TC: Metal Machine Music is a very important record, and that kind of thing was going on back then. John was way out there. And there was a whole scene of improv. going on that is not well remembered, because who could record anything back then? Just people figuring out what they were doing with a new instrument and figuring out what they were doing as they go. I used to think of it more as a documentary, and I used to call it “downtown ethnic music.” To a certain degree it was people taking possession of the composer role of the music and bringing it into themselves -- trying to erase the authoritarianism that happens in the world of composers and musicians.

--Chad Radford

Bonnie "Prince" Billy

2006-09-24T00:51:00.000-04:00

The Letting Go
Drag City

Bonnie “Prince” Billy has tapped into a wealth of inspiration by exploring the art of collaboration. Whether delving into the dark side of the male psyche with Matt Sweeney (Superwolf), or jamming on covers with Tortoise (The Brave & the Bold), new blood brings an incredible amount of variety to Will Oldham’s catalogue. The Letting Go is his first proper round of new songs to materialize since releasing Master and Everyone in 2003. The space between has left an indelible mark on his songwriting, most notably via Superwolf. But whereas Bonnie took a backseat to Sweeney’s songwriting, here he takes the reigns with Dawn “the Fawn” Fables in-tow.

With “Love Came to Me” and “I Called You Back” Oldham and Fables share dark duets somewhat reminiscent of the Gram-Emmylou dynamic. In no time darkness grabs the record, but rather than sinking into depression, Fables’ beaming croon brings an uplifting element that culminates over lush strings in “Cursed Sleep.” As such, Fables is Oldham’s not-s0-grievous angel, showing that indeed long is the way, and hard, that out of Hell leads up to light.

There is a dark and sensual warmth shared between the two, giving rise to moods that are conncected by a humble bridge between two lovers regaining trust after a long fight. Fables' voice is used as a textural instrument in the “The Seedling” and “Then the Letting Go,” weighing in against Oldham’s brooding ways, steering him away from easing on down the roads he’s already traveled.

--Chad Radford

The Medium is the Message

2006-09-24T00:27:00.000-04:00

Supersystem crafts dance pop songs that remain open to interpretation

Story by Chad Radford
Photo by Emily Wilson

It’s disorienting to be awakened in the middle of the night by a phone call from an unfamiliar voice asking, “May I please speak with…” Whereas this dreaded greeting is usually met with a swift click of the receiver, half-past midnight is too late for telemarketers to be calling. Naturally it compounds confusion when those same six words are followed by, “Hey, this is Justin Moyer from the band Supersystem, sorry I missed your call earlier...” Nevermind that it was five hours earlier.

Moyer (A.K.A. Destroyer) had spent the evening in the basement of the Dischord Records house in Washington D.C. where he had commandeered Fugazi's 8-Track to record songs for one of his myriad other bands, Antelope. As any musician will tell you, when you're in the studio all sense of time is thrown out the window. For someone who also stretches his time drumming for fellow Dischord act Soccer Team, drumming with Fugazi bassist Joe Lally’s solo project and fronting the cross-dressing electroclash act, Eddie Sedgwick, time is impossible to manage.

But Moyer is not a busy body to quell some sort of high-speed neurosis, but out of necessity. One half of Supersystem’s members – keyboardist Pete Cafarella and guitarist Rafael Cohen -- live in Brooklyn while bassist Moyer and drummer Josh Blair remain in D.C. The hours that all four members spend together, functioning like a normal band are few and far between.

But sustaining a long-distance relationship is nothing new for Supersystem. The group has pulled this off in various states of personnel since 1996 when Moyer and Cohen formed the experimental post-hardcore band, El Guapo. The group released four albums, two of which appeared on Dischord. But rather than kick out the politically charged jams of the label’s traditional milieu, El Guapo moved into more abstract realms, tempering indie rock with an oboe, horns, a Glockenspiel and an accordion.
This skewed approach stems from the influence of free jazz luminary Anthony Braxton, under whom Moyer and Cohen studied at Wesleyan University in Middleton, Connecticut. “[Braxton] always encouraged us to do something different with music,” Moyer says.

And so they did. But over time the avant-garde wore thin. “We became more interested in dance music and writing songs with coherent structures,” Moyer explains. “You should always be able to work with the language of avant-garde music and improvisation, but after a while it gets kind of stayed. It became more of a challenge for us to write pop songs with a verse / chorus structure, but keep things exciting.”

In 2004 the group jumped from Dischord to the Chicago-based Touch & Go Records, and in the process, adopted the name Supersystem. “When we changed the name and changed labels we thought, ‘how can we take a traditional song structure and apply our system to it,’” Moyer explains. “’How can we lend our personal voices to a genre and make that a jump-off point to do our thing.’”

That “thing” which was formerly focused on experimentation shifted toward slick and cohesive pop rhythms.

The group’s sophomore T&G release, A Million Microphones blends a worldly pallet of Brit pop, Kraut rock and American indie-electronica influences. Whereas the album's first single, “White Light/White Light” is a bratty electro punk anthem, “Eagles Fleeing Eyries” builds an exotic, groove-laden pace around harp strings strummed with angelic majesty.

Other songs, like “Earth Body Air,” and “Not the Concept” incorporate elements of bombastic dub and hip-hop. Themes of drugs, the environment and vague personal and political relationships weave in-and-out of each song. But in maintaining the group’s longest standing traditions, the subject matter remains vague. “Music is much more powerful when it’s open to interpretation,” Moyer adds. “The album is oblique and somewhat bizarre but you’re locked into reading it as you will.”

This balance of coherent structures wrapped around songs where nothing is spelled out adds refreshingly meaningful depth to these dancefloor numbers, even when talking about them in the middle of the night.

Catfish Haven

2006-09-24T00:17:00.000-04:00

Tell Me
Secretly Canadian

Coming of age in the Midwest during the early ‘90s -- as I did -- progressing through the ranks of Minor Threat and the Misfits, moving onto Fugazi, Sebadoh, Helmet and so on, a band like Catfish Haven would most certainly have been the enemy. The group’s strong sense of rhythm and melody would have stood up to be counted amongst the Jimmy Buffets and Joe Cockers, and summarily dismissed; back then, anyway.

The laid-back, Memphis-style rock of “All I Need is You” paints a picture of mustached dads, wearing white shorts and Hawaiian shirts, sipping Jack Daniels on the rocks and playing games of Snooker in the basement.

Whereas the teenage me would have scoffed and snorted over the gravely, heartfelt croon of “Down by Your Fire” or “Grey Skies,” as a thirty-something this sounds pretty sweet.

There’s no denying that Catfish Haven lays down a groove for adults, and frontman George Hunter definitely knows the craft. But there’s an understated Lou Reed element of loose rhythms in the guitar jangle that drives “Crazy For Leaving.” This sense of amphetamine melancholy adds depth and intricacy to such a straight-forward and stripped down sound. In this relationship that binds Catfish Haven’s uncomplicated songwriting, the group taps into a demanding musical and social milieu. Catfish Haven is not as uptight as the Velvet Underground, but it’s certainly not blue collar rock in the same sense as so many of its references. As result the songs well-up somewhere in between.

--Chad Radford