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# Monday, January 05, 2009
Martin Bisi: A conversation Part 1
Posted by peter

bisi_balloons_sm2.jpgThe list is a long one. Herbie Hancock, Afrika Bambaata, Brian Eno, Ginger Baker, John Zorn, Bill Laswell, Sonic Youth, Swans, the Dresden Dolls ... all have worked with the gifted producer/engineer Martin Bisi.

Known best, perhaps, for the work he did with Laswell’s Material project that resulted in the recombination of hip-hop and jazz DNA in Herbie Hancock’s Grammy-winning single “Rockit,” Bisi’s first real recording session was with Eno in the early ’80s. It was Eno who helped Bisi and Laswell construct a recording space in Brooklyn — BC Studio, which was originally dubbed OAO (Operation All Out, from William Burroughs’ novel “Naked Lunch”) that has served as a sort of sound lab for some of the major artists  making provocative avant-garde and indie-rock music over the last few decades.

It was Bisi’s explorations of early hip-hop that landed him a job as producer of early Sonic Youth records Evol and Bad Moon Rising, and after Bisi severed ties with Laswell and Material, he helped Cop Shoot Cop, Foetus, Live Skull and Unsane — to name a few — develop their own revolutionary aesthetic.

In 1988, Bisi got back with Material and the production team found itself in demand, with artists like Iggy Pop, The Ramones and White Zombie vying for their services. Forays into world music included work on a Ginger Baker solo album, Middle Passages.

Coming out from behind the boards in 2008. Bisi released his fourth solo album, Sirens of the Apocalypse (visit www.martinbisi.com to learn more about Bisi and the LP), an exploration of experimental-pop that draws inspiration from a variety of female characters. In part 1 of our interview with Bisi, we explore his new album, his work with Sonic Youth and his interest in graffiti art.

While Sirens of the Apocalypse is sort of all over the map musically, veering from shoegazer to punk-cabaret (“Goth Chick ‘98”) to psychedelia to straight-up indie rock, the overall production harkens back to the frenzied, burned-out beauty of the Sonic Youth recordings you worked on. Is there anything in particular you wanted to draw on from your experiences recording Sonic Youth for this record?
Martin Bisi: Well, I think we kind of have a common sensibility. So, it wasn’t really ... I mean, the sensibility was probably just there in my personality and maybe by complete coincidence, you know. I don’t think that they really sought me out because I’ve had a lot of ... I actually know for a fact that they didn’t seek me out because I had experience with the kind of stuff they wanted to do. I think at that point things were pretty unsophisticated.

They weren’t really thinking, “Oh, this person has a lot of studio experience with this kind of music.” There really wasn’t such a thing as someone with an indie-rock track record in recording — certainly not in multi-track recording. It hadn’t really gotten to that level. I think a lot of that music hadn’t really gotten to that... hadn’t even gone into a multi-track recording studio. So, they came after me really because I’d been doing a lot of hip-hop. And they were pretty fascinated by that whole thing, and then it turned out that I think a lot of our common experiences with... I mean, there’s definitely a lot of noise and a lot of abstract sonic stuff happening in New York and from different fields, you know.

There was like No-Wave. Even punk rock was sort of noisy and chaotic, you know, even straight-up punk rock. And then there was avant-garde... well, avant-garde was kind of an old story at that point, but it was sort of being reinvented, and even though Sonic Youth sort of were disassociating themselves with the avant-garde, they actually did not want to seem too arty, although that seems to be a little ironic at this point.

It does, yeah.
MB: But, they really wanted to draw the distinction. I mean, they were trying to be a bit more punk rock. And I think that’s why they were drawn to hip-hop in general. You know, that was sort of... that had a lot of street cred at the time, and I guess people didn’t want to be too highbrow. At least, I know they didn’t want to be too highbrow, and you can definitely see that in some of the lyrics. And people don’t really talk much about Sonic Youth’s lyrics, but a lot of their stuff is pretty much like... you know, kind of low brow, in some ways.

Yes, celebrity obsessed in some tracks.
MB: Oh, yeah, that too, for sure.

But definitely with a detached irony.
MB: Yeah, that’s in my stuff, too. Like in Sirens, it’s also... because all creativity is sort of reactionary, you know. I get flooded with a lot of highbrow, heady stuff. That’s the stuff that usually gets all the props, anyway. And then part of me is like, well, you know, there’s something to be said for low-brow, you know. I like Tone-Loc, or whatever — “Do The Wild Thing” or something.
There’s another side to creativity. And what’s funny is, ’cause someone had commented about like three months ago, they were just like kind of dismissing Sonic Youth a little bit, saying, “Well, some of those lyrics like, you know, it’s pretty much like let’s do it in the back seat.” There’s literally Sonic Youth lyrics that are like that. You know, and I thought, well, that’s funny. No one ever talks about that. And I was like, yeah, that is in there. And I was thinking, that’s funny. That’s like me also.

Gender issues are addressed heavily on this record. Where do you think relations between the sexes sit at this juncture in history, and why did you want to explore in such detail how women live?
MB: Well, um, it’s funny because in the past I always thought the idea of singing about girlfriends and loves and all these things I thought was sort of trite and maybe not very exciting in terms of songwriting. And I think maybe it was a time when I was young where I really didn’t care about, you know, songs about relationships or whatever, but I guess as it’s worn on, as my life has worn on, I’ve realized that that’s where really so much of the passion is. And as I’ve gotten older, and I grow more skeptical about other things, you know, whether it’s politics or the like, there’s no ... a lot less of my passion is invested in other things.

You grew up in New York City in the ’60s and early ’70s into a musical family that wanted to instill a full appreciation of formal, classical music. But you fought against that, and as a teen, you did a lot of graffiti art. Was that just the usual sort of teenager rebelling against what his parents thought was important, or was there something about the avant-garde that attracted you on a deeper level?
MB: I think a lot of it may be as simple as the usual teenage rebellion, you know. But I do think it might have been a good fit. You know, there might have been, in some other era, maybe it wouldn’t have been. Like I wonder, if I was that age now, whether I would have fit into anything, and whether I could have quote “succeeded” in a sense... because I’m still a bit of a late-’70s person, you know.

When you talk to me about my views on art or politics and stuff, it’s kind of late ’70s, so would I be ... that’s kind of one of those questions that’s impossible to answer. It’s sort of like, if we could go ahead like 40 years and have the same 47-year-old version of me, you know, 40 years from now, would I be the same person with the same viewpoints? I kind of think maybe I’d have the same viewpoints, but maybe things wouldn’t have panned out. Basically, there was a place for me, and there’s a lot about graffiti that kind of resonated.

Also, I think like you could just say it’s art. And you could say, that’s art, and there’s other art forms and other expressions now that sort of... you know, it’s still creativity. I think there are certain underlying sort of philosophies and attitudes that are kind of different. I mean, maybe these things go in cycles, but graffiti sort of resonated because it was very... one thing I did like about graffiti is that it had a very yin-yang kind of attitude. One thing I liked was, to really be considered graffiti, a graffiti artist, and not a "toy" — that was the term, you know, or dilettante or whatever — you had to have skills, and you had to get up, which means that it wasn’t enough to draw on your personal notebook.

You had to actually be out on the street. You had to be in people’s faces. You had to be in public view. And in a way, that’s still kind of how I feel. I’m a little shameless in feeling like that things need to be kicked out there. And I kind of feel like to me art is... it should be heard, it should be seen. You know, sometimes it seems like I’m shamelessly into self-promoting and making sure that things succeed or get out there, but it’s just sort of an ethic. It’s a bit of a yin and yang. Like with graffiti, if you weren’t putting it out on the street, if it wasn’t visible, publicly visible, it wasn’t even considered graffiti.





Monday, January 05, 2009 3:45:15 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #  Comments [0]
# Monday, December 29, 2008
The Nerves' '... Telephone' bill
Posted by peter

Nerves1_photo_by_Patty Heffley.jpgBalled up into a taut, explosive package of tense energy, irresistible hooks and melodic charm, "Hangin' On The Telephone" was supposed to be the hit single that was going to put The Nerves on the pop-music map.

Instead, it was Blondie and its revamped version — included on 1978's classic album Parallel Lines — that broke through, giving Debbie Harry and company their first U.K. Top Ten.

The Nerves' Jack Lee actually wrote "Hangin' On The Telephone," and the band's drummer, Paul Collins, recalled his initial reaction to it in a recent e-mail interview.

"The first time I heard 'Hangin'...' in Jack's flop house room on Pine and Gough in San Francisco, I thought I had died and gone to heaven," says Collins.

In short order, however, it was The Nerves that would collectively pass on. Together only briefly in the mid-'70s, The Nerves — with Lee on guitar, Peter Case on bass and Collins — and their brand of fast, tight, infectious garage-rock flamed out quickly, leaving behind only an EP's worth of primal power-pop recordings. "Hangin' On The Telephone" would ensure the group a lasting legacy, however, and when he heard Blondie's cover, Collins thought, "That finally The Nerves were going to get their due."

For his part, Peter Case, who would go on to somewhat bigger things with The Plimsouls, had a different reaction to hearing Blondie do "Hangin' On The Telephone." He remembers thinking, "Jack's rich now."

But, for The Nerves, widespread acclaim, not to mention wealth, eluded them, and in 1978, after three years together, the band split. To rectify that wrong, Alive Records released what is being touted as the trio's first official LP One Way Ticket Nov. 25. Padded with fiery live tracks and a handful of demos, along with the original Nerves EP, One Way Ticket is essential listening for anyone interested in the origins of L.A. punk (even though, as Case is quick to remind, The Nerves actually began in San Francisco).

To find out what all the fuss is, visit www.bomp.com and prepare to be amazed.





Monday, December 29, 2008 5:16:16 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #  Comments [0]
# Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Justin Townes Earle goes to the '... Movies'
Posted by peter

home_top_jt.earle.gifLook out, Ryan Adams.

There's a young renegade alt.-country outlaw from the Bloodshot Records stable who could challenge you in 2009 for the title of "most insanely prolific songwriter" around — that is, if Justin Townes Earle, son of country-music and roots-rock rabble-rouser Steve Earle, gets his way.

Already shaping up as a big year for the younger Earle, 2009 will see him release Midnight at the Movies on March 3. And he says he's going to try to convince the label to release another album he has in the can that, right now, is called The City Tonight.

The title for Midnight at the Movies comes from Earle's fascination with what Times Square in New York City used to be in the '40s and all the hustlers and ne'er-do-wells that hung out there.

"I loved the imagery of dirty movie theaters, and junkies and criminals piling out of them," says Earle, a fan of Beat generation writers William S. Burroughs and Jack Kerouac.

Though he admits he's not ready to open up the floodgates and release four albums in a 12-month span, like Adams has, Earle is imbued with the same restless creative drive. He says he wrote "Someday I'll Be Forgiven," the first song he penned for Midnight at the Movies, the day after he finished recording his critically acclaimed 2008 effort The Good Life.

"I think artistically it was a time to move on, to start figuring out what's next," says Earle, explaining why he went right back to work after tying up all the loose ends on The Good Life.

Expect more traditional Americana — with elements of Delta blues, New Orleans jazz and early rock 'n' roll — and stark acoustic instrumentation from Earle on Midnight at the Movies, along with the kind of rich narratives and sepia-toned portraits he's known for writing, like the Civil War tale of woe and isolation he told in "Lone Pine Hill" on The Good Life. Mostly, his songs, as he says, are about girls and cars, and that's probably true, but in a sense, Earle is just being modest.

Like the roots music he's influenced by, there are deep emotions and universal themes that live in Earle's writing. But, in his own humble style, Earle says he's just sticking to his dad's advice in writing about simple things.

"My dad told me that as he got older, his crowd got hairier and uglier, and that's when he started writing girl songs," laughs Earle, who is named after the legendary songwriter Townes Van Zandt.

And as Earle points out, even in his father's most strident protest albums, like 2004's The Revolution Starts Now, contained songs like "Little Black Dress" — hardly a ditty that boils the blood of the oppressed.

Stay tuned to www.goldminemag.com for more on Justin Townes Earle, and his thoughts on his namesake and his tumultuous teen years spent in the employ of his dad's band. For more on Earle, visit www.myspace.com/justintownesearle or www.bloodshotrecords.com




Tuesday, December 23, 2008 7:48:42 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #  Comments [0]
# Monday, December 22, 2008
Science Faxtion's Greg Hampton talks Alice Cooper, 'Billion Dollar Babies'
Posted by peter

51TSg53cLvL._SL500_AA240_.jpgFor years, Alice Cooper had squirreled away in his wonderfully weird imagination an idea for a concept album based around a serial killer who had a spider fetish. It was producer Greg Hampton who helped Cooper finally realize his vision in 2008's Along Came A Spider.

"It was last October, Oct. 27, when I'd sat with Alice in his bus, and I'd said, 'Look, I've got a vision for what I want to do,'" recalls Hampton. 'He had told me the basic premise of what he had in mind. And he'd had this in his mind, this whole theme, for probably over 15 years. And I said, 'Look, you've got to trust me. We're going to do it a certain way.' And I said, 'Just stick with me,' and it's his highest-charting record since 1990, I think, that he's had."

In an interview about Hampton's latest project, Science Faxtion and the Bootsy Collins-led supergroup that, in November, hatched the space-funk, metal opus Living On Another Frequency, Hampton shared his memories of growing up as an Alice Cooper fan.

"My mom, I used to drive her crazy with Billion Dollar Babies, so it was kind of funny that I told [Alice Cooper] that I'd want to do sort of Billion Dollar Babies meets Brutal Planet and Last Temptation... those sort of records. And it was... I think it definitely touched on the classic stuff, and we tried to rope in some modern elements, sort of thread [them] throughout the theme of the record. So, it was really great, writing with Alice Cooper, sitting elbow to elbow with him for five months and you know, us throwing red vines at each other (laughs)... it was very surreal. I will tell you that. It was quite an experience. From what I understand, it's the most work he's put into a record like this in many, many, many years. So, I was definitely flattered."

The success of Cooper's latest metal-tinged foray into the dark side of human psychology hasn't quite lived up to that of Billion Dollar Babies, but then again, in this environment, where the music business is getting choked to death by declining sales and the advent of downloading, that would have been impossible.

For Hampton, and former Guns 'N Roses guitarist Slash, who played some guitar on Along Came A Spider, Billion Dollar Babies was, and always will be, a touchstone.

"You know, for me — and I talked about this with Slash, as well — we were talking about the fact that it was just sort of the whole... all the planets and the stars and everything sort of aligned," says Hampton. "It was sort of the pinnacle of the great records to us, you know, that it was just everything just sort of came to the point where musically the production, the songwriting... all the elements, just were perfectly aligned, in my opinion. Now, that was one of the most influential records of my childhood, and Slash and I said the same thing basically, you know, that a lot of those records were so... you know, they made it sort of who we are. You know, and we said something when we were making the record, it was something that I had touched on with Alice, and he was sort of surprised that I knew so much about all the records — not to mention ones that I really wanted to focus on for the influential... influences to draw from to make this 2008, to sort of you know meld all the best of his worlds, if you will."

Look for more on Science Faxtion and more of our interview with Hampton in the Jan. 16 issue of Goldmine, or just go to the multimedia section of www.goldminemag.com and listen to our podcast of our interview with Hampton. And visit www.myspace.com/sciencefaxtion to learn more about that project, which also includes guitar wizard Buckethead and drummer extraordinaire Brain — both of whom have served time in recent incarnations of Guns 'N Roses.



Monday, December 22, 2008 5:35:32 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #  Comments [0]
# Tuesday, December 16, 2008
A 'Hush' falls over Asobi Seksu
Posted by peter

AS_White_PROMO_09_low.jpgTheir studies at the Manhattan School of Music were intense, and had they continued down that road, who knows if James Hanna and former child prodigy Yuki Chikudate would be concocting the whirling storms of shoegazer noise, ethereal melodies and wintery beauty found on Hush, the upcoming third album from the duo.

Better known as Asobi Seksu, the two — the angelic Chikudate on lead vocals and keyboards and Hanna on guitars and vocals — met at the school, where time spent in the dry academic purgatory poring over every note of every great composition in history wore a bit thin for both of them.

Leaving it behind, Hanna, having tinkered with post-rock and grinding hardcore, was seduced by the lure of creating the kind of woozy, Milky Way soundscapes that dream pop is made of. Chikudate followed him, eventually emerging as the frontwoman for Asobi Seksu as Hanna concentrated on layering effects-laden guitars on top of each other to produce a sound that was as lush and beautiful as any in the shoegazer game.

Asobi Seksu started out as a quartet. After one year, having released 2004's self-titled debut, that version's star imploded, leaving the band in ruins. The pair regrouped, recruiting a new bassist and drummer that survived the group's critically acclaimed Citrus release in 2006, only to leave after it was done. More personnel changes were in the offing, as was a growing disenchantment with all the turnover Asobi Seksu had experienced.

All of that pent-up frustration exploded into the tour de force that is Hush, due out on Polyvinyl Records Feb. 17. "Me & Mary," an absolutely stunning blizzard of sonic mayhem, is now out as a single in the U.K., having been released Nov. 18. And Asobi Seksu is out on a European jaunt with Ladytron.

Hanna took time to talk about what's happening with Asobi Seksu in a recent e-mail interview.

Hush was created and conceived in a time of personnel changes and other issues for the band. How did that turmoil and disappointment affect the writing?
James Hanna: I would say that throughout the writing for Hush we were in a state of flux. We realized that the old model for this band was no longer going to work and had a pretty good idea of the changes we needed to make both personally and professionally. Going through a period of growth and facing problems I think gives the record a sense of hope and faith that we couldn't have before.

There's a tendency with any shoegazer band to go back to My Bloody Valentine's Loveless and make comparisons. But with Hush, while it's still dreamy, there's not just that wall of noise and disorienting guitar effects. Songs build more, there are more dynamics and especially with a song like "Sunshower," (Band note: song now called “Transparence”) you can hear some British pop sensibilities. How did you want to separate yourselves from the shoegazer crowd?
JH: I mean I suppose there is a shoegaze crowd now. A few years ago only a few bands were doing this and not just copying the genre through and through, but taking certain elements and mixing them with other influences to try and do something new with the genre. Now there are certainly a lot more.

I read where you said that "Every shoegazer song is the same rhythmically," and when I read that, it really hit home, that yeah, he's right. Is there something limiting about working with this kind of music? And if so, how do you get around that?
JH: From the beginning, we never thought of ourselves as a shoegaze band. There are no limits to working on music. If you like reverbed guitars with more complicated rhythms, try it out, and if you like it, do it. That's always been the way we work. Mixing different elements in ways that keep us excited about the music.
 
In what ways is Hush a more stripped-down record than say 2006's Citrus?
JH: Hush has less guitar overload. We tried to get a few interesting sounds that combine to make something that sounds really special and unique to us, rather just layering reverbed guitars until it sounded crazy (which was definitely fun at the time!).

There are a lot of ambient effects in Hush. How big an influence is Brian Eno on the band?
JH: Eno is an amazing composer with a truly unique ear; the way he combines different elements is really inspiring. One thing we knew we wanted to do was blur the line between synths and guitars even further than on Citrus. We did this by being selective rather just endlessly layering.

You went to the Manhatten School of Music. What was that experience like and how has it shaped Asobi Seksu?
JH: We had some good teachers and learned a lot in terms of general musicianship. Some of that learning has been beneficial, but some things that are great in classical music can be counterproductive in band land.

Talk about constructing a climax like the one in "Me And Mary." Is it hard to show restraint when you're going for something so dramatic?
JH: That's one of the moments where restraint kinda went out the window! It's like a 20-second drum fill with all these obnoxious synths and guitars being pushed into amps... can't get much more excessive than that. It's more about limiting those moments and saving them for the right times.

What haven't you explored yet that you're dying to try musically?
JH: Recording outside of New York City, like in the south of France or Japan or something. Just being in [an] intense environment like that would no doubt color the music and give the recording process a good shake up.





Tuesday, December 16, 2008 11:09:21 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #  Comments [0]
# Friday, December 12, 2008
Iraq trip 'life-changing' for Joe Lynn Turner; new Sunstorm on the way
Posted by peter

jltheadweb1.jpgNews of a Rainbow reunion — minus the most famous member, guitar sorcerer Ritchie Blackmore, but including Blackmore's son Jurgen (or J.R.) — arrived last month to some fanfare. Vocalist Joe Lynn Turner, whose soulful singing graces such band favorites as "Street Of Dreams" and "Stone Cold," is a part what's being called Over The Rainbow that also includes keyboardist Tony Carey, drummer Bobby Rondinelli and bassist Greg Smith.

But, a far more rewarding experience in September gave Turner a whole new perspective on life. As reported here in this blog, Turner went to Iraq to entertain the troops with the band Big Noize, an assemblage of rockers from '70s and '80s heavy-metal acts like Deep Purple, Rainbow, Quiet Riot (guitarist Carlos Cavazo), AC/DC (Simon Wright) and Ozzy Osbourne's band.

It was a long time coming for Turner, who had approached USO.org two years ago about performing for soldiers stationed in the war-torn land "... because I'd heard that they were having trouble getting artists, celebrities, or anything else to go over there. People were obviously afraid and what have you."

He got a form letter back saying, in so many words, that they were not interested.

"I just wanted to do something; I wanted to do my part for the troops," says Turner. "This is not a political move. This is just completely for the troops. It's not about red and blue, it's about red, white and blue. It's for our guys and girls over there. This has nothing to do with for or against the war. So, I was kind of disappointed in that."

The story doesn't end there, thankfully. A friend of Turner's, Jeff Thornton of Lone Wolf Productions, had an idea for a tour of Iraq that grabbed Turner's attention.

"I had done two Naval tours with him, and what they are basically, on the Pacific Rim, is doing Seoul everywhere from Japan all the way down through the Diego Garcia, which is an island in the Indian Ocean, where we have a lot of heavy artillery," explains Turner. "I don't know. I might be talking above most peoples' heads, but having been there twice, you know, I'm really familiar with what's going on, and where all the heavy artillery comes out of, to go into the Middle East, and that's Diego Garcia. So, to make a long story short, I've done two tours with them doing that, and he'd been to Iraq 23 times, with other acts, local and otherwise. So, I jumped on the chance, and I felt that this was a really great opportunity for a project that I'm involved with called Big Noize, which features a lot of infamous guys from big groups, and if anybody's not familiar, it's bignoizemusic.net."

Six months of briefings and organizing proceeded the tour, and Turner remembers "... we kept getting briefed throughout the time about what we could expect, what we had to bring, what we had to wear, how we had to act... everything, because it's a different world when you get over there."

It lasted two weeks, with Big Noize visiting a number of out-of-the-way outposts.

"We primarily went to the smaller camps, because most of the bigger camps... although we went to Baghdad twice, we didn't really play Baghdad; we played Camp Taji, which is outside of Baghad, which is a huge camp," says Turner. "But we went to the smaller camps, like Shield and Falcon, and things like this... because these guys never get anything out there. They're right on the perimeter. They're still fighting out there. They're taking an inch, a foot back every day, for Operation Iraqi Freedom."

The trip left Turner a changed man. "This [was] just an amazing journey, and an amazing experience, and a life-changing one at that, because when you do finally come back, you start to look at life differently, you start to look at yourself differently, people... everything changes for you because you've been through something that is extremely difficult, extremely different, and eye-opening. So, it's hard to return to civilian life and just see everything the same way it was. I mean, you'll never complain about anything again. Never complain, you know, because these guys, they're in 140-degree heat, eatin' sand, in the dirt, you know, every day, gettin' shot at and mortar fire and everything that happens over there. Even though the fighting's down about 60 percent, it's still dangerous. And on the perimeters, we were up north and on the edges of where the fighting still is; it's still going on, pretty hot and heavy. We experienced mortar fire, machine-gun fire, and all that kind of stuff. So, I don't know where to begin, except it's just an amazing, amazing experience... the band was amazing on this. We all joined forces and just said, 'Look, we want to do this for unselfish reasons. It was really an amazing feeling to go over there and a very bonding experience."

Turner and company hope to go back in March, because, as Turner says, "... once you've got it in your blood, you really don't want to let it go."

The same, evidently, goes for him with regard to Rainbow. Not content to stop there, Turner also is out promoting his new concert album, Live in Germany, and says that a new Sunstorm record is in the works. An AOR project of Turner's that includes Survivor's Jim Peterik and Giant's Dan Huff, Sunstorm, according to Turner, was supposed to begin work on the album in late October.

About the new album's direction, Turner says, "What Sunstorm is really is like kit-oriented songs from the '80s. And I think it's pretty much in the same style, whereas these songs are hook-line-and sinker type songs. And Jim Peterik wrote a couple more. I've got about four or five in there. You know, just good writers, great songs, great production, and that's what Sunstorm is about. It's not supposed to be hard-rocking; it's supposed to be more of a commercial enterprise, you know. But it's so well-done; if you checked out the last one, it's so well done, you can't help but like it. You know, even the hard-core aficionados, you know, they kind of dig it, so I'm hoping that we have the same success with this one."



Friday, December 12, 2008 4:17:04 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #  Comments [0]
# Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Red House Records turns 25
Posted by peter

215.jpgMary Chapin Carpenter said it best: "This set is a treasure." And so is Red House Records, the indie American roots music label set in the Twin Cities that's celebrating its silver anniversary in 2008 with an extravagant — well, as extravagant as you can get for a small indie — three-CD box set, Red House 25: A Silver Anniversary Retrospective.

Housed in a handsome leatherette case are 64 tracks of down-to-earth folk music, Americana, bluegrass, acoustic blues and Celtic — the product of honest songwriting, Midwestern values and hard musical labor. Helping promote a "new folk" grass-roots resurgence in this country, Red House is home to Greg Brown, Loudon Wainwright III, Eliza Gilkyson and Jefferson Airplane and Hot Tuna guitarist extraordinaire Jorma Kaukonen, and way more artists than we have room for here.

The Red House story begins with Brown, in the early '80s.

Well, it all started, as we say in sort of the beginning of this book, there's about three ways you can start with this company, and I suppose that's a common story, but one way might be to go back to when Greg Brown," says Red House president Eric Peltoniemi. "I think around 1980, [Brown] put out a self-released album called Iowa Waltz, which he'd gotten some money from the Iowa Arts Council for. And he just thought he better have a label name on it, so he just wrote on there, 'Red House Records.' He was living in a farmhouse at the time, and it was red. But, then, it went out of print, and a couple years later, Bob Feldman, who was the spiritual founder of our label, and also the president and so forth, happened to come across Greg in a coffeehouse and was just blown away. Couldn't understand why everybody didn't know about Greg Brown. So, [Feldman] was teaching high school at the time. He would go back and talk to Greg and try to see if he could help him with his career. And they got that old record back in print, and that was the first Red House record. And that was in 1983. So, 25 years ago, and the first few years, they only put a couple records out, here and there. But, then I came onboard in 1986, with a Spider John Koerner record, and I've been with them ever since. We've now put out about... we're getting close to 225 albums now."

With Red House hitting 25 years old, the label, with most of its anniversary celebrations behind it, are now — like the entire music business — trying to deal with life in the digital age. These are strange times for a label that likes to do business the old-fashioned way. Some of their traditional values are still being upheld. The label still only signs artists it likes and respects, without any real consideration given to how many records they can sell.

Still, Red House does have to keep up with the times, and that means driving people to its web site, investing in well-rounded packaging for its CDs and just trying to do what it can to survive.
 
"We're still thinking hard about what does it mean to be a label like Red House in the 21st century, and what does it mean to be any kind of label in the 21st century," says Peltoniemi. "And why should an artist even sign with a label in the 21st century? All of those different things, and we want to make sure we have the best answers for those questions. One thing we are conservative about to a certain extent is I don't think we really want to be a leader in any of these moves, because so many of these initial moves are false starts, but we want to be fairly close to the front on some of these, and see which ones are the most practical, sound and that's pretty much the way we've always operated."

To learn more about Red House and its stable of high-quality artists, visit www.redhouserecords.com, and stay tuned for a more in-depth story about Red House's anniversary and its evolution from a business run out of Feldman's apartment to a full-fledged label, with an office and everything.




Wednesday, December 10, 2008 10:59:26 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #  Comments [0]
# Monday, December 08, 2008
Live review: The Sadies, Justin Townes Earle, Tim Easton
Posted by peter

home_top_jt.earle.gifYelling out for some "Rascal Flatts" — unless you're being incredibly ironic — at a Justin Townes Earle gig should get you a public flogging.

In his own wry, understated way, Earle could only laugh a little at the suggestion and reply, "Buddy, I think you've got the wrong guy. We play country music," putting the emphasis, without much subtlety, on the word "country." 

And then, Earle and company proceeded to drive home his point at a show Sunday night at the Oneida Casino in Green Bay, Wis. Flanked by a bearded fiddle player and a multi-instrumentalist who played harmonica, banjo and mandolin, Earle, the son of country outlaw Steve Earle, and his acoustic guitar oozed Southern charm and humor while shuffling and picking their way through a set of old-timey country originals and the odd cover, including an absolutely stunning version of The Replacements' "Can't Hardly Wait" that sounded as if it was being interpreted by Hank Williams.

A storyteller at heart, intimately familiar with the toils and troubles that darken souls, Earle's easy delivery, imbued with a pleasing Southern drawl, allows his narratives to unfold without artifice or insincerity. Having bested the inner demons that plagued him as a more youthful man (he was fired from his father's band for his transgressions), Townes Earle has studied the maps of all the roads to ruin there are, and he's more than qualified to comment on all the routes humans take to get there.

In a live setting, Earle's stories and immaculately crafted songs are enhanced by the warmth and adept touch of the swinging acoustic instrumentation that brings them alive, as was especially the case with the sunny "South Georgia Sugar Babes" and "What Do You Do When You're Lonesome." And the vintage harmonies of the three do much to make Earle's tunes glow.

SadiesBethHammill7.jpgAs headliners, The Sadies didn't disappoint, either. Not only was the set list diverse and remarkably long, with red-hot instrumentals sprinkled in between noir-ish fare such as "Anna Leigh" and "The Trial," but the down-home harmonies and scintillating guitar interplay of the brothers Good — Dallas and Travis — left mouths agape. Travis' smoking leads and sure, strong string manipulation contrasted with Dallas' otherworldly rhythms, and they're different stage personalities — Travis' fire and Dallas' quiet mystery and polite manners — made you wonder if they did, indeed, share any bloodlines at all. How they threw themselves into every song as if their lives depended on it provided all the evidence anybody would need to link the two as siblings.

Whether they were launching into wild bluegrass hoe-downs or serving up some '60s-modeled pop full of subtle hooks and bygone melodies, The Sadies — pushed ever forward by the standup bass of Sean Dean and the deft drumming of Mike Belitsky — were electric, leaping from psychedelic garage-rock to ghostly surf music to bluegrass to whatever Ennio Morricone-inspired architecture seemed to spring to mind at the moment with aplomb and, when required, raucous energy.

As the opener, Tim Easton's stark, Dylan-esque folk had a tough time competing against the bells and whistles of the casino's main floor, but the honesty of his well-crafted songs rose to meet the glitz and noise of all the gambling machines with acoustic sincerity.

All three are serving a brief three-day residency at the casino. If you live in the area, and you feel brave enough to drive through all the snow that appears on the horizon, do go check them out. For details, visit oneidabingoandcasino.net. And check out yeproc.com or www.bloodshotrecords.com for info on The Sadies and Justin Townes Earle, respectively. Also, stay tuned to the multimedia section of www.goldminemag.com for a podcast of an upcoming interview with Earle.




Monday, December 08, 2008 6:57:05 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #  Comments [0]
# Friday, December 05, 2008
Dead Trees: Slacker kings
Posted by peter

1.jpgNot as elegantly wasted The Rolling Stones, but pretty damn close to getting there, the sound of Dead Trees is as haggard as a hung-over Keith Richards.

While Ian Michael Cummings, responsible for all the band's songwriting, and company clean themselves up a bit for the Elliott Smith-like melancholy of "Let Me Sleep" and the bittersweet waltz of "My Friend, Joan, She Never Asks" on their new album, King Of Rosa, their shirt tales are still hanging out and their hair is all mussed up in the garage-rock stained power-pop of "OK Standby" and "Shelter."

And that's just as it should be. Dead Trees — made up of Cummings, Mathew Borg, Todd Dahlhoff and Noah Rubin — don't like to get all gussied up for company. Yet, their gloriously messy sonics belie the keen pop sensibilities that peek out from underneath the raggedy musical clothing. In King Of Rosa, the successor to their Fort Music EP released earlier this year, John Lennon's rambunctious, pent-up, White Album fractiousness (see "Loretta") rubs up against the slacker vibe of Pavement and the noisy machinations of Sebadoh, while adopting a slight alt.-country twang. And with Cummings' detached irony and willingness to sift through the decadent debris of youth to look for some glimmer of humanity — and sometimes, not finding any of it — Dead Trees is a potent mix of melodic inspiration, unfettered rock energy and honest songwriting that throws off showers of guitar sparks and swings not lazily, but with an ease that comes from supreme confidence.

Growing up so fast, Dead Trees, from Boston, has already been out supporting The Strokes' Albert Hammond Jr. on tour. Along the way, they lost a van in Iowa — the details of which are revealed in Daytrotter.com/article/908/free-songs-dead-trees — and lay waste to venues like The House Of Blues in L.A. and The Metro in Chicago.

A somewhat coy Cummings agreed to talk about what makes Dead Trees tick.

So, how does a band that's not really a band end up making an EP called Fort Music that gathers so much attention that you become the supporting act for Albert Hammond Jr. on tour?
Michael Ian Cummings:
Man, I don't know. Cream rises to the top? Or we're super handsome? Nope, just luck.
 
Reading your press clippings, what so many people seem to like about the band is how genuine the songwriting is, and how you make penning really infectious songs look so easy. Does that stem from trying to keep things simple, and is it really easy as it seems for you to write songs that you like and want to record?
MIC: I am really glad people are responding that way. I just try to write music that I would want to listen to. We had no clue how people would respond. So far, its been great. We're just relieved that people "get it".
 
For those who haven't heard Fort Music or King of Rosa, how would you differentiate the two records?
MIC:
Fort Music is our Basement Tapes, our first recording, and it keeps that vibe. Recorded in a basement to all analog, Fort Music feels warm and cozy. King of Rosa was made in Portland (opposed to Boston) and feels more polished and "semi-Pro" while still maintaining personality and good vibes all around.
 
Much of your music seems to hearken back to the '60s, especially on "My Friend Joan, She Never Asks," but there's nothing really retro about it. How do you think you guys escape that label of being revisionists?
MIC: Because were not. We just listen to good music, and we don't feel like we need to play the part in any circumstance. We are not into pigeon-hole labels. I hate seeing bands that look like they just went through a time warp. We call bullshit on that.
 
With regard to lyrics, it seems that there's a real insular quality to the subjects, that there's a lot of reflection and looking outward from the characters, and yet there's not a real engagement with the world around them. Is that what makes them flawed?
MIC: Perhaps. 
 
There's a defiance to the lyrics of "I Have, I Want" that seems thwarted by ... well, maybe not apathy, but perhaps a reluctance to get involved. Is that something you see in most people?
MIC: Yeah, everyone (including myself) seems to be consuming and collecting all the time.There's really no happiness there. I'm trying to be more grateful for the things i have and have achieved.
 
"Loretta" might be the most Beatles-like song on the new record, but it's more like the White Album Beatles than the kind of pop that a lot of bands seem to emulate. Do you relate to that era of The Beatles more than their earlier work?

MIC: The White Album is my favorite Beatles record. It's all over the place, like there was no filter. I love it. A perfect mess.
 
"Swagger" is a word that comes up often in discussions about Dead Trees. Is having a "swagger" just something that you come by naturally as a band in songs like "OK Standby" and "Shelter" with regard to tempo or is there something else at work here that brings that about?
MIC: When I think of that word I think of Mick Jagger; he's great, but I don't really relate to that. Maybe "swagger'" works for us, but it would not be my choice word.
 
There's enough familiarity in songs like "Killer in Me" to make people think of Pavement or Sebadoh, but it's kind of like it's fleeting. It's there and then it's gone and you've sort of moved onto something else, like that growing storm of distortion that builds up at the end. Do you like being able to kind of trick people into one kind of definition and then proving them wrong?
MIC: Are we tricky? Deerhoof is tricky. I'm not sure. I would love to be even trickier. 
 
You have a Christmas song called "Sit Fuzzy" that's available for listening online. Does it relate in any way to Christmases you've had?
MIC: Well, I was raised as a good Jewish boy, so I think I've got a good perspective on Christmas every year with my dad's family. I do enjoy christmas but there sure is a lot of crap that comes with the holidays.  
 
What's upcoming for Dead Trees?
MIC: We are going to Europe for the first time in January! We're excited. I predict a good year. Thanks!




Friday, December 05, 2008 11:29:32 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #  Comments [0]
# Thursday, December 04, 2008
Another Fire heats up
Posted by peter

TMSLIVEalbumcover.jpgFire was never really put out, it appears, and now comes a most welcome back draft.

A whimsical carnival of U.K. psychedelia, Fire splintered sometime around 1970 after producing an ambitious concept album titled The Magic Shoemaker. Playful, yet progressive and intelligent, The Magic Shoemaker was Fire's swan song, and what amazing beauty was found among its dying embers. And while Fire didn't capture the record-buying public's fancy, it did leave a legacy that future artists, like the Pet Shop Boys, would revel in.

The band's first single "Father's Name Was Dad," while not a big hit, has been covered to death (the Pet Shop Boys' version might be the most famous), as artist after artist has succumbed to its melodic charms. But, alas, Fire did die out.

Flash forward some 30-odd years later, and Fire, unexpectedly, has returned. Comprised of Dave Lambert (vocals/keyboards/guitar), Bob Voice (drums/vocals) and Dick Dufall (bass/vocals), the trio released a concert album titled The Magic Shoemaker Live on Angel Air.

Lambert, who later joined The Strawbs after the dissolution of Fire, had this to say about how the reunion came about.

"During a US tour in 2006 I was shown a new book about the 60’s scene in London in which there was a two page piece about Fire," says Lambert. "I don’t think I’d realized, up to then, that there was still so much interest in the band. I decided that night that I would start planning to stage The Magic Shoemaker in its entirety for the very first time. My original idea was to get together a set of session musicians to play it, but when I mentioned the idea to Bob and Dick, they both wanted to be a part of it, and that was wonderful. Ray Hammond, the producer of the original album, was to do the narration for the shows, so we would all back together after 37 years. I set about writing and recording an overture and then re-writing the story line and narration in order to include 'Father’s Name Is Dad,' 'Treacle Toffee World' and some other Fire material, in the show."

As it turned out, when Fire started playing again, it was like time stood still.

"Our plan was to stage the thing in the winter of 2007 and we rehearsed throughout the year," says Lambert. "The first rehearsal was amazing; I counted in 'Father’s Name,' and it was as if the intervening years had never happened; we finished the song and all burst out laughing. I knew from that moment that everything was going to work out fine. By the time it came to the shows, I had assembled the most reliable road crew I could muster; I wasn’t going to take any chances. The two performances were magical for me; it was so good to be onstage with those guys again after such a long time. Bob was very nervous because he hadn’t been on stage for 30 years, and Dick, who plays now in a function band, said, ‘I’m just not used to people clapping.’

And clap they did for a resurrection that bordered on a religious experience.

"The whole thing was a brilliant emotional experience for all of us, helped along by a full and enthusiastic audience most of who weren’t born when the original was recorded," relates Lambert. "Since speaking to people who saw both; I get the impression there wasn’t much difference between a 1968 Fire performance and a 2007 one. The shows were both recorded live and the CD The Magic Shoemaker Live was released in October. It’s great that after all this time we have things like a myspace site www.myspace.com/2007fire and there is a Fire facebook page, and a number of live tracks on youtube under The Magic Shoemaker. If someone had told me in 1966 that all this was going to happen I think I would have laughed in their face. I’m so grateful for it all, and I know the other guys feel the same."

Stay tuned for more on Fire, a band that was once signed to Apple Records and had the enthusiastic support of none other than Paul McCartney.




Thursday, December 04, 2008 11:37:11 PM (GMT Standard Time, UTC+00:00)  #  Comments [2]