Wednesday, October 03, 2012

Getting involved with Ben Sollee

Here



Ben Sollee doesn’t just comb his hair, throw on a tie, and head out to the club. An average night for him is a unique event for everyone else.

Known for riding his bicycle (with cello onboard) to concerts, Sollee encourages fans to bike, walk or use public transport to get to his show. (“There will even be bike valet at some of the shows,” he notes.) Those who do will receive a $5 voucher toward his merchandise, “on the honor system.”

Sollee plans to “change up” Headliners a bit for his shows, adding seating options and different lighting.

Oh, and there’s also the music. He’s playing an octave mandolin on this tour, joined by bassist Luke Reynolds and percussionist Jordon Ellis … and a special guest or 12. (The serial collaborator joined numerous acts onstage at this summer’s My Morning Jacket-curated Forecastle Festival.)

The Lexington native has spent a lot of time in Louisville and has the fan base to show for it, as his two-night stand here proves. The most popular pop-R&B-classical-folk-rock singer-cellist in the world has just released his third full-length solo album, Half-Made Man, and buzz continues to build for Sollee. From Kentucky to NPR to Hollywood, it seems like a good time to be in the Ben Sollee business.

“That’s a wonderful hope, and expectation, to have,” Sollee says. “There’s no way to guarantee that, but I think if you go out and play a good show, and you connect with the community in those towns, there’s no way to not grow.”

Half-Made Man’s title song, in particular, reflects his ongoing growth process. Sollee thinks a lot about community and the role his work plays in it. A short film called “Wooden Box,” focusing on his school workshops, debuts at the Louisville International Festival of Film on Saturday afternoon.

The album was funded in less than 48 hours by 410 donations sourced through the Pledge Music site, many from Louisville (with some of the funds raised beyond the goal amount being donated to Oxfam America).

Having performed much of his earlier albums alone with multiple overdubs, Sollee this time spent two weeks in Louisville with a group of musicians at Kevin Ratterman’s studio, playing live-to-tape.

He’s pragmatic about the financial realities of his field, allowing that he, the artist, is also a “product.” Currently attempting to manage his business himself, the 28-year-old husband and father oversees every detail.

It’s not his first time around the track, and Sollee says he began learning how he wanted to make the industry work for him while touring with the successful Sparrow Quartet, alongside Bela Fleck, Abigail Washburn and Casey Drieesen, between 2005 and 2008. Too much time spent in airplanes (“lots of all-over-the-placeness”) led him to seek a slower, more sustainable path — though the game still occasionally requires, as it did last month, that he travel between places like Los Angeles, New York and Kentucky all within one week to publicize the new album.

Sollee attributes some of his insight to his work as a teen stagehand on Lexington’s “Woodsongs Old-Time Radio Hour,” where he was able to learn from hundreds of artists.

“I came into this industry having a really solid idea of what it meant to get involved in this … I had very realistic expectations when I came in. However, learning how to bend and manipulate yourself as quickly as the industry is changing is really, really tricky.”

Fans will note that his first solo album was titled Learning to Bend.

One artist he learned from was legendary singer and civil rights icon Odetta. They talked about stage presence, as well as social issues. “The impression she left on me was, you just have to tell your story and let folks get involved with it.”

If there’s any doubt left about what his story is, his Pledge Music profile describes him as “Cellist, Singer, Cyclist, Dad, Human.”

When you invest in his music, Sollee says, “I want people to know that it’s a locally made product that’s socially conscious, that has some ethics to it.”

Ben Sollee with Luke Reynolds
Oct. 5-6
Headliners Music Hall
1386 Lexington Road
headlinerslouisville.com
$20-$35; 8:30 p.m.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Make time for Alabama Shakes

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Small-town band enters a whirlwind of success

“Are there questions you’re sick of being asked?” LEO asks.

If there are questions Brittany Howard doesn’t want to be asked anymore, it’s questions such as How does it feel to go from a small town to stardom in a year? Has it been a whirlwind?

The 24-year-old singer for the breakout rock band of the year, Alabama Shakes, might be on the young side, but she’s a sharp character. Though willing to play the game to get her band’s music heard, she’s happier to talk about more everyday concerns.

Guessing as much, LEO asks if there are some questions she’d rather answer. Howard suggests, “What are your favorite foods?” “Who’s the best driver?” “Who snores the loudest?” and “Who got paid the most in their old job?”

When LEO spoke with her recently, she had been back home in Athens, Ala. (population: 20,000), for approximately one week. “I have no perception of time anymore,” laughs the former postal carrier, as she runs errands in her time between world tours.

Her band’s modernized fusion of soul and classic rock has won them fans like Adele, Jack White and Robert Plant; sold 300,000 copies of debut album Boys & Girls since April; and led to sold-out shows in numerous cities. “I think today’s Thursday, but I’m probably wrong. No, today’s Wednesday! I was close.”

Howard can walk around Athens relatively peacefully, but “it’s really hard to go grocery shopping … Any place where people congregate, you’re gonna get noticed.”

Surprisingly, people have been leaving her alone at bars, but “when you want to go to Wal-Mart and buy some toilet paper …” she laughs. “I’m usually taking photos of people who work there. I’m a curiosity when I go in there, I guess. People want to know, ‘What’s your world like?’ Pretty normal, I don’t know.”

Other popular questions: How did you guys get together? (They met in the Athens music scene). Why are you named Alabama Shakes? (They came up with the name “The Shakes,” then added their home to it when they realized another band had the same name.)

LEO: What are your favorite foods?
Brittany Howard: The best place to eat in Athens, it’s called Burrito Bus. It’s just a little Mexican lady in a bus who makes the best tortas. It seems, generally, we eat a lot of Mexican food on the road.

LEO: Who’s the best driver in the band?
BH: It’s probably gonna be Heath Fogg, our guitar player. Oh, my goodness! Heath Fogg is the most responsible driver … I don’t see good at night. (Drummer) Steve (Johnson) drives too fast. One time, we were going down this mountain and he was going 90 miles an hour. I went, “Dude! This is freaking me out.” I was in the front seat.

LEO: Who snores the loudest?
BH: (Bassist) Zach (Cockrell), for sure. Sometimes you get no sleep.

LEO: Who got paid more at their old job?
BH: Probably Steve. He made the most money. He worked at a nuclear power plant. He had to go through a lot of tests. It’s not easy to get a security clearance to work at a nuclear power plant! (laughs) It’s funny, a rock ’n’ roll drummer with security clearance.

Alabama Shakes with Fly Golden Eagle and Riley Downing
Monday, Oct. 8
Brown Theatre
315 W. Broadway
kentuckycenter.org
$25; 8 p.m.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

album review: Rayna Gellert

Rayna Gellert
Old Light
STORYSOUND



Fiddler Rayna Gellert is known for her playing with the modern old-timey group Uncle Earl (which also included Abigail Washburn, and whose last record was produced by Led Zeppelin’s John Paul Jones; both remain fans and collaborators of hers), and for work with Scott Miller, Sara Watkins and Robyn Hitchcock. On Old Light, subtitled Songs From My Childhood & Other Gone Worlds, Gellert takes all she’s learned to date (including inspiration from musical parents) to turn out a world-class collection. Louisville’s own Nathan Salsburg helped arrange much of the album, and it balances old traditions with new energy and freshness. Like Gillian Welch and friends in Tennessee, Gellert’s North Carolina-based crew brings beauty and sadness, simplicity and widescreen sonic effects, together in a way that should — but sadly, doesn’t — define modern American music.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly