Califone interview

"All My Friends Are Funeral Singers" by Califone from Secretly Jag on Vimeo.

Califone is a fantastically fascinating band based in Chicago. Leader Tim Rutili first emerged in the early '90's with Red Red Meat, an equally fascinating band who took a left turn when peers such as Smashing Pumpkins and Urge Overkill went right. Califone began in 1998 as a solo project, but quickly evolved into a powerhouse band. Rutili, who is also a filmmaker, was kind enough to discuss his music with me in advance of Califone's June 11th concert at The 930 Art Center in Germantown, which promotes their latest album, All My Friends Are Funeral Singers.

The first time I saw you was with Red Red Meat at the Middle East in Boston, probably in '93, and I can still see, in my mind, the sight of you sandwiched between two 6'7" guys. You've played to movies live, and now you're promoting a movie that goes along with your recent album. How important are visuals to you when it comes to presenting your music?
We always made visual music. Even the lyrics are usually more about images than emotions.
Playing to film has always been a great trigger for coming up with musical ideas that are a bit out of our comfort zone.
I first learned about that playing in Boxhead Ensemble and doing a tour playing live to films. Jim Becker also played in that band and we had similar experiences.
When we tried the film/music performance with Califone we found that ideas flowed a little faster and we were playing things that we wouldn't normally play. It was really fun to do. Maybe because our eyes were busy we were able to play a bit more without thinking about it too much.
With Funeral Singers, we wanted to make a song-based album but also design a film to play live to. The challenge was to make sure we were always serving the story in the film and make sure we were not being too slavish to the story on the album.
We wanted to make sure to bring the audience into the picture with us. Presenting the film with the live band is a great way to do that. It's kind of like an aural 3D movie. It seemed like making the film and presenting it this way was something we had been working toward since Califone started.

Can we expect to see your film projected at the show at the 930 Center?
The show at 930 will be just music. We've been playing to the film quite a bit and we need to play some songs again.



All My Friends is about ghosts, and different mental states. Your music also employs found voices and sounds at times. Are different mental conditions something you think about or deal with in life? How do you feel about the relationship between genius and insanity?
Genius and insanity are both probably annoying conditions. I used to think creativity came from making myself crazy and spilling my guts all over the floor. Now I know that the best ideas come when I can quiet my mind.
A lot of Funeral Singers is about this process. Letting go of all those voices, ghosts, and noises that keep us company and are familiar but also prevent us from finding some peace and joy in this world.

How do you describe your music to older relatives or new acquaintances who might not be familiar with some of your less well-known influences?
I try not to talk about it. Usually, if I have to, I just say it's a rock band - like the Beatles. I never was too good at explaining myself.

As an underground band seemingly unconcerned with pop fame, has the music industry collapse affected you?
I still love making music and I always will, but we are older and, at this point, we do what we want. I always hope people find our music and love it and give us lots of money, but I still haven't figured out exactly how to make that happen and I am trying to be OK with that.

You've played with the Louisville born-and-bred Freakwater. What's your impression of our city?
I have some great friends from Louisville but I've never really spent enough time there to explore. Can you recommend any good places to eat?



c. 2010 Velocity Weekly

Column #15: Neil, this is no time to let me down

One of the best concerts I ever saw was Neil Young and Crazy Horse, on their Ragged Glory tour in the spring of 1991. After suffering through the 1980s perhaps even more than the rest of us, Neil was back.

His comeback had begun 18 months earlier with his album Freedom and its instant anthem, "Rockin’ in the Free World". Like the best rock ‘n’ roll, it was deeply profound and deeply dumb at the same time. Also like the best, it spoke both to its time (Tiananmen Square, the fall of the Berlin Wall, Debbie Gibson) and to all of time.

It was exciting, like the best rock ‘n’ roll, because it was wrong. It was wrong in so many ways - Neil was 46 and already seemed even older; he was a folkie and a hippie and a Canadian in George Bush the elder’s America.

He had been washed up like Bob Dylan, adrift in the “Greed is good” decade and unsure what to say next or how to say it, just a step ahead of his pals Crosby, Stills and Nash, burnouts turned yuppie symbols of everything wrong with capitalism, drugs and too much pie.

So how was this guy and his killer band able to come back, rocking a hundred times heavier than most other bands half their age?

Because instead of touring with another Baby Boomer like Bonnie Raitt or Santana, which surely would have been easy, Young picked two unexpected up-and-coming underground bands, Sonic Youth and Social Distortion, to take on the road with him.

He was making a statement, and it landed. Social D was a safer pick, a traditional rock band made up of guys with greased hair and blue jeans, guys who looked like they should have been the roadies. Still, they played rockabilly fast with ex-punk-junkie attitude, and they didn’t have a hit single on the radio.

Sonic Youth was and remains, to a degree, a wildly inventive, deconstructed art rock band that seemed then as though they’d rather play in front of a foreign film than in front of 13,000 classic rock fans in a basketball arena.

After getting through three or four songs, none well-received, they rubbed their guitars against their giant amps for another 15 minutes without attempting anything like melody. The crowd, full of bikers of both genders with large bellies and long ponytails, made their displeasure known. But 16-year-old me, who enjoyed seeing the popular people made uncomfortable, had found heroes who would guide me for years to come.

As Neil Young and Crazy Horse hit the stage, we all rose to our feet, banging our heads and crying out, “Yes! Yes!” as the maelstrom of fury and passion traveled from the stage to the rafters. Though the majority of his fans missed Neil’s suggestion that, in 1991, he might have more in common with Sonic Youth than James Taylor, it was still great to revel in the noise with so many others.

A year later, Nirvana was the biggest name in music. Neil was named an honorary “godfather of grunge” and would soon collaborate with Pearl Jam.

He also made a return to his folk roots with Harvest Moon, confirming his inability to sit still or to do what’s working, what’s safe or what's profitable if his muse won’t allow it.

So I’m worried about his concert next week, his first full concert in Louisville since 1983.

For one thing, it doesn’t even seem like a full concert. He’s going to sit down and most likely play the hits on an acoustic guitar, singing things like “Old man, take a look at my life, I’m a lot like you.” (He wrote that when he was 27.)

I can’t get excited about such safe nostalgia from someone who’s always pushed forward, especially at such high prices during a recession.

I don’t think the Neil I loved would be excited, either.

c. 2010 Velocity Weekly

Cheyenne Marie Mize interview

Cheynne Marie Mize's debut album, Before Lately, is now available. See her next on Friday, June 4th at Glassworks.

Where did you grow up? Is your family musical or artistic?
I've lived in Louisville more years than not, but I grew up on a farm in southern Kentucky. My dad's family is both musical and artistic... everyone is either a musician, painter, architect, or some combination of the three. I grew up hearing my mom sing and play piano, but she never did music professionally.

What is your musical background / training?
Different, depending on the instrument... I have played piano the longest, had a few lessons when I was young and have been learning on my own ever since. I started guitar and violin when I was 10... played violin in school orchestras, then eventually started picking up some other styles along the way. All my guitar playing, I learned from just trying to figure out songs I heard or trying to imitate my brother or uncle. Banjo, dulcimer, autoharp, and drums, I just fool around with when I'm alone, or when someone is silly enough to let me play them in a band (thanks, ladies!).



Who are your musical favorites/inspirations?
Just a few from old to new: Debussy, the Carter Family, Hank Williams, Pink Floyd, Ali Farka Toure, Dirty Three, PJ Harvey, Radiohead, Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, Neutral Milk Hotel, Shannon Wright, Susanna Wallumrod, I could go on and on about more contemporary artists and new favorites...

What bands/projects are you currently involved with? How did you get involved with them?
Oh, boy. Listing all these makes me hyperventilate a little, because then I realize how much work I need to be doing right now instead of answering these questions... Arnett Hollow, Maiden Radio, Ben Sollee, Saredren Wells, Thomas A. Minor and the Picket Line, Joe Manning, The Health & Happiness Family Gospel Band, the Dear Companion touring band with Ben Sollee & Daniel Martin Moore, and now some of my own music, as well, with the help of many of the above-mentioned artists. I have or will play and/or record with these groups/artists this month. I got involved with all of them because of Louisville.

What do you hope to achieve with music?
To me, this is like asking, "What do hope to achieve by breathing?" It's not really a choice, there's no real final outcome. It's just what I do.



c. 2010 Velocity Weekly

Deep Wells

Drew Sellers, aka Saredren Wells, dives into the rich flow of local music

The Louisville music scene has much in common with, of all things, the Louisville tap water scene.

Both seem to be endless streams of fresh rejuvenation, and both are acclaimed as models of American excellence at work.

Drew Sellers is entering that flow.

Today, 28-year-old Sellers is known to music fans as Sareden Wells. His indie folk songs, evocative of long walks on cool fall nights, have been captured in an album, Memories Are Hunting Horns... which has been released this week on vinyl and for download by the Louisville Is For Lovers label at louisvilleisforlovers.com.

After contributing cuts to John King’s annual Louisville is for Lovers compilations, Sellers finally decided that the time was right to strike out on his own.

The occasion is being celebrated with two events, a performance on WFPK-FM's Live Lunch at noon Friday and a concert on the Glassworks rooftop later that evening.

"I’ve spent a lot of time around music — we’re old friends, you might say,” Sellers said. “What’s nice is that I didn’t know a thing about how music worked when I was younger, so I got my start getting inside of it in a way that was very free and open.”

Sellers grew up playing music in Louisville. He credits his mother for giving him his drive.

"While she never pursued music formally, she definitely has the mind for it,” he said. “We are both very good at mulling things over, and I think a lot of what makes a person artistically-motivated — as opposed to life-motivated — comes from that."

But a free and open musical environment only gets you so far, Sellers said.

“There did come a time when I realized that, in order to accomplish certain things musically, I would probably have to get some formal training," he said.

So Sellers began his studies in college, including a semester at the prestigious Berklee College of Music in Boston. Eventually, the pendulum swung back the other way and he decided to go back to an instinctual approach.

"I want to say and do and make things that reflect what life is like,” he said, “so that while we are all here sort of hanging out we can look at it and have some sort of conversation about it. That’s really it."

His primary inspiration comes from the neighborhood.

He counts a few local pioneers — including David Grubbs of Gastr Del Sol, Rachel Grimes of Rachel’s and Brian McMahan of Slint — as "spiritual advisors." After launching his debut in his beloved hometown, Sellers is taking Sareden Wells on the road for a series of concerts with fiddler/singer Cheyenne Marie Mize, another local trying to make waves with a debut record.

Meanwhile, he's listening to a lot of music, trying to figure out where his instincts will take him next.

"Like most folks these days, I’d say my taste kind of runs the gamut," Sellers said. "I especially like things that get to you where you never thought anyone else would ever be able to go."

Sellers likes to try for a little mystery, so it was with reluctance that he revealed the origin of his alter ego. Sareden Wells is an anagram of his full name, Andrew Sellers.

"It's almost like a mythological name or something, something that's stranger than life," he said.

"I remember years ago reading 'Catch-22' and parts of 'Crime and Punishment', thinking to myself, 'Yossarian, Raskolnikov, now those are names that mean something'."

"I feel like it's kind of a bummer to let people in on that. Kind of takes away from the evocative and enigmatic nature of the name."



c. 2010 Velocity Weekly