album review: Ut Gret

Ut Gret
Radical Symmetry
UNHEARDOF PRODUCTIONS



Some of the most “incorrect” music makes more sense in today’s ADD-iPod world than it did 40 years ago. While fans of jazz, funk, prog rock and gypsy music might have crossed paths occasionally in the early ’70s, they’ve otherwise been a scattered and lonely lot. But today, groups like Mucca Pazza, Beat Circus and, from Louisville, Liberation Prophecy and Ut Gret have boldly taken the baton from Zappa, Zorn and other freaks, and the result — at its best — is music like Radical Symmetry. Within the first song, a handful of genres interweave delightfully, a cat-and-mouse game of creative, caffeinated composing run amuck, and intentionally so. The second song, well sequenced, is a jaunty, sexy Parisian number with womanly vocals, a strutting organ and an inspired sax. Eastern music comes in, deceptively smooth jazz runs parallel to electro squiggles, and military marches welcome the clowns to town. Highly recommended if you have an open mind and are more likely to travel to Djibouti than to Destin.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

X’d out

"ear X-tacy is no more"

It was a weird ending for the record store that popularized the “Keep Louisville Weird” slogan.

Though beloved local institution ear X-tacy had struggled to survive in the new century, no one expected it to end the way it did.

They failed to open on Saturday and left no notice about why they were closed. An employee called singer-songwriter Alan Rhody, a Nashville resident, at about 9:30 a.m. to tell him his 3 p.m. in-store performance wasn’t going to happen.

ear X-tacy remained inexplicably closed for several hours before LEO first started hearing something was wrong. Upon arriving at the store late Saturday afternoon, all was quiet, dark. The merchandise was still there, visible through the glass doors, but otherwise … nothingness.

Calls and emails to employees current and past were met with a wall of silence. Around 5 p.m. Saturday, one source told me that “legally” nothing could be said until an announcement was made. LEO then discovered that the store’s Twitter and Tumblr accounts had been removed.

Sunday came, and the silence continued. The store remained closed, frozen in an unexplained moment. An update on the store’s Facebook profile said an announcement about the store’s future would come Monday. Given that the busy holiday shopping season was on the horizon, it didn’t make sense that they would just close, suddenly, or that it would happen now.

When owner John Timmons first made a public plea for support in February 2010, he called a press conference at the store, using the media to help the public understand how dire their financial situation was. Years of Apple products, illegal downloading, powerful chains and an unsuccessful investment in Think Indie, a digital site intended to challenge iTunes, had taken their toll, and he urged local customers to come back to his brick-and-mortar business.

On Monday morning, I arrived at the store shortly before their expected 10 a.m. opening, anticipating the lights turned on and the doors open, or dozens of passionate supporters gathered — sharing stories of the first cassette they’d ever bought from the store, or buying a Rachel’s CD from Jason Noble himself, or hanging out in the store on a Friday night when they were under 21 and had no better place to go.

Instead, I found closed doors again. Around the city, people were growing increasingly nervous about the future of the landmark.

As Monday droned on, no time was given for an announcement. Concerned supporters continued to ask questions, and one ex-employee decried “media vultures” on Twitter.

A Facebook update in the 4 o’clock hour promising an announcement was quickly deleted. Finally, around 5:50 p.m., the store’s profile issued Timmons’ official announcement that “ear X-tacy is no more.” The emotional letter, which gave no explanation for the abrupt closure, read in part: “It has been a dream come true … actually, a dream exceeded, to be part of your musical lives here in Louisville for the last 26 years … The record store experience has been the only child in my life. Now, it’s time for me to let it fly.”

As of press time, it remained unclear what will happen to the merchandise, including numerous local, self-produced recordings. There is no indication that there will be a liquidation sale, or a going away party. The store often described as a community meeting place left supporters nowhere to turn to express their feelings except the Internet — the very beast that, at least in part, was to blame for the store’s demise.

On Tuesday morning, a fan named Tammy commented on the store’s Facebook page, “Where on Earth am I going to Christmas shop now???!!!” Whoever is running the store’s page replied, “Poor Tammy! Find another local record store. I can give you a list :)”

Here
c. 2011 LEO Weekly

Metal drama

Theatre 502’s new production isn’t just good drama, it’s also a valentine to music lovers — especially those who know that Slayer and Poison exist on different planets. LEO caught up with playwright Marco Ramirez.

LEO: What is the play about?

Marco Ramirez: “Broadsword” is about a broken-up heavy metal band from New Jersey that has to reunite in order to save their lead guitarist from the grip of hell. It’s kind of an Agatha Christie mystery play, but imagined through the lens of “The X-Files” and “Halloween.” It’s also very much about family — both the one we’re born into and the one we make for ourselves.

LEO: How did music influence the direction of the story you wrote?

MR: The play’s entirely about music, but even more so it’s about musicians. I don’t think the story of one band influenced me more than others, but the stories of a bunch of misunderstood blue-collar geniuses did. Names like Daniel Johnston and Jeff Mangum (neither of whom made metal), and wonderful music mythology surrounding Robert Johnson and guys like Jeff Buckley. Basically, anyone who ever recorded one genius album and disappeared, or who died mysteriously, or who thought they spoke to the devil.

LEO: How much of an expert on metal are you?

MR: I know a lot more than my parents do, but a lot less than the guy with the Dio tattoo on his neck. It’s weird — when it comes to metal, I’ve found that, at most, what people know is maybe Metallica and a couple “Wayne’s World” quotes.

LEO: Does your taste differ from your characters?

MR: I love me some Motorhead and some Pantera — I jokingly called an early draft of this play “Cowboys From Hell” — but I don’t think I listen to it as often as the guys in “Broadsword” probably do.

LEO: Do you have any Louisville music favorites?

MR: I’m not sure if this is Louisville-specific, but a lovely Louisville native — the director of “Broadsword,” Amy Attaway — gave me two bluegrass mixtapes a couple years ago. Distortion or no distortion, there is nothing more metal than a “murder ballad.”

“Broadsword” runs from Nov. 11-19 at Parkside Studio at the Iroquois Amphitheater. More info can be found at www.theatre502.org.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly

Sebadoh’s license to please

The story of Sebadoh has taken more twists and turns than a telenovela, though one lacking in obvious sex appeal or comical evil. The story began in the late ’80s in western Massachusetts, where then-ex-Dinosaur Jr. bassist Lou Barlow began collaborating on lo-fi homemade tapes with Eric Gaffney. Jason Loewenstein joined soon after, and the trio, fueled by their single “Gimme Indie Rock!,” influenced a generation of angry, confused but sensitive ex-punks.

Gaffney left early on, replaced first by Bob Fay and then by Louisville native Russ Pollard, whom Loewenstein had met while living in Louisville for more than a decade. Though the group’s last album was released in 1999, Barlow and Loewenstein have reunited at various times since, unfairly never achieving the mass popularity of peers Pavement or Guided by Voices.

Though the two men now live across the country from each other — Barlow in Los Angeles and Loewenstein in Brooklyn — and play with other groups (Barlow with Dinosaur Jr., Loewenstein with the Fiery Furnaces), the songwriters have begun working on new Sebadoh material again. For this tour, Fiery Furnaces drummer Bob D’Amico has joined the duo.

Sub Pop recently reissued their acclaimed 1994 album Bakesale, so LEO asked Barlow about that period.

LEO: Bakesale was made around the time Jason was involved with (Louisville musician) Tara Jane O’Neil.

Lou Barlow: Yeah, he wrote a bunch of songs about her (laughs). She plays on the record. He’d recently moved to Louisville, actually. He loved Louisville, so he stayed there.

LEO: How do you feel the album holds up now?

LB: I didn’t think it would hold up; I guess, in my mind, I imagined that it wasn’t as good as people said it was … I’ve always liked the songs and the lyrics, I just didn’t think texturally or playing-wise it would really hold up, but when we were putting together the reissue, I finally had to listen to it. We lightly remastered it, beefed it up just a little bit, so I had to listen to it again, and I was kind of amazed that it sounded pretty good. It had a really cool feel to it, and the feel of it was pretty consistent … it was kind of a charming record — it’s not like a monster rock record by any stretch, but it’s pretty charming in its limitations, and also in its strengths.

LEO: Where do you think it falls in the Sebadoh catalog, for your tastes?

LB: I kind of think records like Bubble and Scrape and Sebadoh III and The Sebadoh, the last record we did, I think those are more powerful and scarier records. I like scary rock records, I guess (laughs), when it comes to rock bands. I like things to have a little bit of an edge to them, a menacing edge. I’m not really into the Pixies so much. I think there’s other Sebadoh records that have more of that edge (than Bakesale), to me they make them more interesting — but, having said that, listening to it, Bakesale is, track-by-track, definitely pretty consistent, and I really love Jason’s songs on it.

LEO: And you’re still OK with Bob Fay’s song “Temptation Tide”?

LB: Yeah … it’s OK. You know, that’s the spirit of Sebadoh. Bob Fay was the drummer in the band; true to our credo, our ethos or whatever, everybody had to have a song, and that’s Bob’s song. It could have been a lot worse (laughs), you know? It’s OK.

LEO: When Bakesale came out, it spoke to a lot of younger people who felt alienated and confused, like you. Now, you’re a family man.

LB: (laughs) Yeah … To be perfectly honest, I never saw it that the songs I wrote were — I got a lot of flack for being like, “These are so immature, navel-gazing, self-indulgent songs,” and I never bought that. I put a lot of effort into writing songs I thought would have longevity. I was in a really good spot as a songwriter, and the songs I wrote, they don’t embarrass me. They make sense to me. For all of the anger, or the confusion, of youth that might be in those songs, I also think that I could easily go through something as a 45-year-old man, and one of those songs, “Rebound,” could easily apply to somebody having romantic relationships in their 40s, I think. It’s not that difficult to translate it. To me, they’re just good songs, and in my opinion, they’ve stood the test of time. I’m able to play them, and I’m pretty to sensitive to that. If I’m playing a song and I don’t believe in it, or I’ve gone beyond it, I don’t play it, ’cause it feels weird. In general, these songs just don’t feel weird.

For an extended interview, go here.

Sebadoh with Mazes and Deer Meet
Friday, Nov. 4
Headliners Music Hall
1386 Lexington Ave. • 584-8088
www.sebadoh.com
$15; 9 p.m.

c. 2011 LEO Weekly