Seeing sounds

Drummer Ben Sears’ first solo art show opens on March 3 at Ultra Pop! LEO asked him about his dual identities.

LEO: How did you learn to make art?

Ben Sears: I was always drawing and building things as a kid. My parents are both really creative and awesome people, so they noticed what I was up to and have supported me ever since.

LEO: Do you prefer museum art or street art?

BS: Is there much difference between museum and street art in the art world these days? If you are asking about old and new art, then I have an appreciation for both. I get just as much inspiration from Gustave Courbet as I do from David Choe. If something looks good or has a cool idea behind it, I’m into it.

LEO: What’s the connection, for you, between art and music?

BS: If I’m not making something, then I feel like I’m wasting my time, so playing music is a great way to make something when I can’t draw.

LEO: Do you hope to work more in art or music through the years?

BS: Art and music have always gone hand in hand with me. I don’t see any reason to not continue doing both as much and as long as I possibly can.

LEO: What band(s) are you playing with now?

BS: I play drums in Black God, and recently started another band called WHIPS/CHAINS. Both will have records out soon.

LEO: Who are some musicians, artists or other Louisvillians who inspire you?

BS: Honest, genuine, hardworking people always inspire me. My girlfriend and my ferret are the ones who look at my work the most and give me the best feedback. My friend Jake Snider is making waves in the creative writing community here, so big ups to him for making it work. I also need to give inspirational credit to Fork in Socket, because their music is fantastic and they are great people. There’s lots of people I probably forgot to mention, so sorry.

Learn more at ultra-pop.com.

C. 2012 LEO Weekly

album review: Whistle Peak

In the ’90s, Lollapalooza, “120 Minutes” and the nascent Internet helped make the world safe for genre-bending and various non-jazzy types of musical fusion (we’re still getting over rap-metal). One avenue that never fulfilled its potential was the intersection of ambient soundscapes, trip-hop and the fuzzed-out guitar bands of the Too Pure label scene — music that would have made pop and rock quieter, a narcotized haze of dreamy, fluffy, liquid beats and strums. Whistle Peak somehow accomplishes all this while retaining bouncy hooks and harmonies and keeping the noise to a sensible minimum. It’s the perfect soundtrack for floating off to nite-nite time or groggily reading the paper (or iPad) on a late Sunday morning, in the best possible way. There’s even a song called “Sleepy Pants,” if there was any doubt left. Make no mistake — this album comes highly recommended for lovers of sounds both familiar and surprising, and makes quiet sound confident and vibrant.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Pressure builds for The Head and the Heart

As Sub Pop Records was helping guide Fleet Foxes from obscurity to mainstream success in 2009, the label’s next big widescreen folk-rock band was first meeting each other in a Seattle bar at an open mic.

Songwriters Jonathan Russell and Josiah Johnson joined forces, adding violinist Charity Rose Thielen, keyboardist Kenny Henseley, bassist Chris Zasche and drummer Tyler Williams, and the new sextet began rehearsing in a borrowed music room in the local library.

They recorded their first self-titled album in 2010 and, as it quickly became popular locally, they began touring around the West Coast, adding fans and winning the support of Sub Pop, who re-released a slightly beefed-up version of the album last April. The band toured for the rest of the year, with new friends like My Morning Jacket.

When LEO spoke with Johnson in January, the band was enjoying their first break in a while. “I’m back to living, clearing my head and listening to new music, figuring out what’s most interesting to me right now, before I start writing songs again,” the singer-guitarist said.

For the daunting sophomore album, the self-aware Johnson acknowledges that The Head and the Heart defined their sound so well early on that they now feel wary of painting themselves into a corner. “I think we’re all kind of excited to do something that doesn’t start with slow, gentle, acoustic guitar strumming and all of that …”

But that’s your bread and butter!

“I know, I know, but we can’t keep writing the same song over and over again.”
Those seeing the band for the first time needn’t worry that they’ve abandoned their popular sound already. “We have some songs we wrote around the same time that kind of fit in the same vein of the folky-but-with-piano feel we’ve been playing. We have 13 or 14 songs that we play right now. There’s a couple that are on the iTunes Session (EP) and a couple that sound good when we play them live but, every time we go to record them, there’s something missing that we haven’t figured out yet … That’s the fun part about finally having time off.”

Brand new material will also be tried out on fans, as the members, all of whom contribute, remain unconcerned with overzealous uploaders. Johnson does feel the pressure of heightened expectations, however. “It’s huge! On the one hand, when you write a song that you love, and you’re confident that people are going to also hook up with it, too — until you’ve written that song, it’s like, ‘Oh, man, I’m not gonna write another song that was that good …’”

They remain less concerned with how well the next album sells, and more concerned with living up to their own standards. “I think we’re confident about our instincts, but there’s definitely — when there’s a dry spell, you’re just like, ‘Oh, man, is that magic ever gonna come back?’”

THE HEAD AND THE HEART
WITH DREW GROW AND THE PASTORS’ WIVES
Tuesday, March 6
Headliners Music Hall
1386 Lexington Road • 584-8088
subpop.com/artists/the_head_and_the_heart
$15 adv., $18 DOS; 9 p.m.

Photo by Shawn Brackbill

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Del McCoury’s musical relations

Born in 1939, Del McCoury has more energy than a person half his age. Though he established himself in the bluegrass world by the age of 24, singing and playing guitar for Bill Monroe, the Nashville resident didn’t break out as a star in his own right until the early 1990s, when he was in his mid-50s.

McCoury attributes some of his staying power to his openness to trying out different sounds with unexpected collaborators. “It’s exciting, because I think it’s good for musicians; they get to hear different things, and hear the same thing in a different way, even. It’s variety — a variety of things that keep your interest up. I think that’s really important in music. I think a lot of people get tired of what they’re doing. I never did, but I can see where you would.”

McCoury likes to take requests and never performs the same show twice. “Sometimes people request songs that I haven’t done in a long time. It keeps me on my toes, and keeps my band on their toes — and they know this stuff better than I do, because I have to sing the words, and I might forget ’em,” he says with a laugh.

The band today includes his sons Ronnie McCoury on mandolin and Rob McCoury on banjo, bassist Alan Bartram and fiddler Jason Carter. In their free time, the four younger members have their own spin-off band, The Travelin’ McCourys.

Past collaborators have included Phish and Steve Earle, and the 2011 album American Legacies found the Del McCoury Band paired with the legendary Preservation Hall Jazz Band of New Orleans. McCoury had been asked to sing a few songs for a tribute album to benefit the musicians who were affected by Hurricane Katrina. “We got to know each other, and one thing led to another, and we thought, ‘Ooh, let’s start playing some dates together.’ And then we thought, ‘Well, why don’t we do a record?’”

The two bands’ touring schedules aligned in San Francisco, where they recorded in a studio that had previously been a mission. “We went in there for about two or three days, just singing any good song that anybody would come up with. We didn’t rehearse anything before the time when we were gonna record. We just ran through things that we thought might work, and that’s the way it came about. It didn’t take long.”

The musicians quickly found common musical ground, realizing that early jazz, Dixieland and bluegrass songs were more alike than many realize today. One of McCoury’s sons asked some Preservation Hall band members, “Did you know Bill Monroe used to come to New Orleans when he was young, and did this song ‘Muhlenberg Joys’?” relays father McCoury. “They said, ‘No, it’s ‘Mullensberg Joys’ … I always figured it was a mandolin tune that Bill recorded. Somebody told me that he was in the hospital from being in a wreck, in the ’50s, and he heard this particular tune on the radio. He recorded it from memory. And he didn’t record it in the ’50s, he waited until, gosh, I think the ’70s. But there’s a lot of that, a lot of them are standards that came from there, from those old jazz tunes.

“From playing with these guys, and hearing things that the early bluegrass musicians — they may not have played the same things, but they were playing some of the same riffs, and it came from horns. If you had told me that 30 years ago, I would’ve said, ‘You’re a liar,’” McCoury laughs.

Though his band’s latest album, Old Memories: The Songs of Bill Monroe, looks back to his tenure with the father of bluegrass, McCoury and sons have refused to be limited by their genre, working with jam bands like Donna the Buffalo and The String Cheese Incident, and the Sacred Steel group The Lee Boys.

“Music is all music. And it’s all related. I don’t care what kind it is. Now, if you’d have told me that when I was in my 20s, I’d have said, ‘You’re a crazy man. Bluegrass is its own thing.’”

The Del McCoury Band with The 23 String Band
Saturday, Feb. 25
Headliners Music Hall
1386 Lexington Road • 584-8088
delmccouryband.com
$20 adv., $25 DOS; 8 p.m.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Adventure's gonna tump!

The singing-guitarist Medley brothers of Adventure, Phil and Josef, didn’t mind telling LEO about their new record, which will be celebrated with a release show at Zanzabar Friday at 9 p.m.

LEO: Tell me about this new record coming out. What should America expect to hear?

Josef Medley: A guy who eats his own vomit, December-May romance on a horse farm in Italy, an unwelcoming corner bar, a persevering inspector, and impending divorcees — with guitars!

Phil Medley: And Canadians should probably expect the same.

LEO: How do you guys write? What inspires you?

JM: We take lyrics and subject matter pretty seriously. We’re constantly looking for situations, characters, bits of history that have a certain amount of resonance. Then you get out the tool kit and try to construct something! “Somebody throw me an A-minor! This B-flat doesn’t fit in the sub-chorus! The whole thing’s gonna tump!”

LEO: You’re known as a kick-ass live band. Why don’t more bands try harder?

JM: We’re too old to go out and see too many other bands — they tend to play awfully late. Maybe they should go to bed earlier.

PM: I always chalked it up to pre-show beverages. Is everyone else drinking White Castle coffee? You’d be surprised what that’ll do to a performance.

LEO: The band has 273 Facebook fans. What do you plan to do to become more popular than “Angry Birds”?

PM: “Angry Birds”? Haven’t heard them play. Where are they from? We could maybe do a show swap with them. Nonetheless, I guess we’ll stick with the 5 Rs and 1 P.

JM: Read, rite, record, rock, repeat. Wait a minute — that’s why we only have 273 fans! We always forget the P: Promote.

Decide if you “like” Adventure or not at facebook.com/adventuretheband.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Tanned, rested and ready

It’s easy for the Pixies to rehash old favorites for millions of dollars, but it’s more interesting when a lesser-known band regroups because they can’t not play together. Nixon has gotten back together to spread more heavy sounds, even as members remain with other bands, such as The Hookers and Trophy Wives. LEO caught up with guitarist Doug Walker.

LEO: How did the band get back together?

Doug Walker: I think for all of us, Nixon always felt like the girlfriend you never quite fully get over. When we stopped working together as a band four years ago, it was a situation where we weren’t really enjoying it anymore. I’m pretty sure it felt stagnant to all of us, and there were a lot of outside situations we were dealing with as individuals that just took away from the overall enjoyment of the band. Over the course of the time we were inactive, we often talked about the idea of doing “one more show” or “trying to get it going again,” but the time was just never right. We finally found ourselves in a situation where we were all in town and had the availability and desire to do it again. After one practice, we decided to give it another go … Working together is much smoother this time around. It’s been a very positive experience.

LEO: There are echoes of some great heavy, underground bands from the ’90s, and some recent ones as well, in these songs. How has your songwriting evolved through the years?

DW: Lyrically, Matt Haas is, in my opinion, an absolute genius at painting a picture of despair and dissatisfaction. Musically, Matt Jaha and myself do everything possible to take what we like to call a “creepy” approach to song writing. Eric McManus and Tony Ash are hands down the most solid rhythm section in this city. Just those two can create a crushing sound. Jaha and myself only need to layer our guitars on top of them, then Haas comes in and makes it all make sense by telling a story.

Nixon plays Friday night at Cahoots. More info is at facebook.com/nixonKY.

Photo by Bryan Volz

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

The Phantom Family Halo's future now

Phantom Family Halo founder Dominic Cipolla decided to move from Louisville to Brooklyn. “About a year before I moved, I set a date, told everyone in the band that I was going and that I would love for them all to join me. But not everyone has the same goals and interests. I just needed a jolt of energy in my life that I knew I needed to find elsewhere.”

When I Fall Out is the fourth full-length album for the band and the first since the tragic death of Cipolla’s close friend Tony Bailey, a drummer widely admired for his skill and prolificness. The album, out this week, is the first of two planned by the band for release this year.

“These songs were all written over the course of a year or so, after his passing. Within days of it happening, it was my therapy of sorts. I was doing the only thing I knew that would help me with all the confusion and anxiety of such a drastic turn in life, helping to make it the smallest bit easier to comprehend for myself,” says Cipolla. “It is certainly influenced by dealing with his loss, but it is also influenced by other people I have known who have gotten pretty lost along the way. It’s also, I guess, about an overall feeling that the fun at the party is over and has taken a very dark turn — people wanting to live in that synthetic place so badly that they never come back.

“‘When I Fall Out,’ the song, is about that moment when they have finally achieved that goal. It’s sort of a journey through the high and low points of someone’s quest for that high that they’re just not getting from the regular human experience. Even when they have so many around who just want to love them and enjoy them, they just end up leaving them behind.”

Moving away helped Cipolla move forward, both musically and in general. “I love New York so very much. I love all aspects of the city. Its history is so endlessly entertaining to me, the dirtiest subway rat to the prettiest flower in the park … The possibilities to explore are endless here. I am always finding something new and thinking how glad I am for leaving the house that day.”

The second album, Hard Apple Moon, “is full of all the positive energy and excitement that comes along with moving to such an interesting and wonderful place,” he says. The band wanted to keep the two sets of songs separate. “The second set is very uptempo and more about my surroundings and being re-energized for a future unknown. The title ‘Hard Apple Moon’ is really a loose term for something that I can only describe as being a life-saver. I started writing the second set the week I moved to New York City … The songs from each set just naturally didn’t seem right together.”

Though Cipolla also plays guitar, drums are his first love, leading him to often provide multiple parts on recordings. “When I get a general idea in my head, it is just easier for me to get it going … I always hear very specific beats and fills that I would rather do myself. Then, of course, with writing the songs, my guitar playing and vocals are in the process as well. So in the end, I just end up piecing the majority of the tune together. Then others may add to it, as well.”

Highly informed by ’60s and ’70s rock — glam, psych and heavy rock, especially — Cipolla defines himself as “way out of the loop” with music. “I’m pretty confused about what is going on in today’s world. I’m still finding music from 40 years ago that compels my ears and mind … I do think that certain ears seek music like that out and find it and benefit from it.”

Music has proven its healing powers to him. When he plays the songs from his new, dark album live, “I am able to step out of the original thought process and just hear it as a song with melodies and changes and dynamics. I enjoy playing them very much."

Photo by David S. Rubin

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Whistle Peak’s homemade electro-folk sounds

Describing the unusual mixture of sounds making up the stew in Whistle Peak’s indie pop is difficult, but their music is tasty and intriguing, and even more so in their second album, Half Asleep Upon Echo Falls, out this week on local label Karate Body Records. LEO spoke with singer Billy Petot.

LEO: How did the new album come together? How do you all write?

Billy Petot: David Boston and I began working on the songs for this album as soon as we released our debut in 2008. We realized people liked what we were doing, so that motivated us to start writing with an audience in mind. I can’t say the same about the first album; we didn’t really imagine much of an audience when we wrote those songs. I like to say that this time around felt much more intentional, rather than the first, which sounds more aloof to me.

Usually, David or I will write a song, maybe lay down some groundwork, if we have any ideas, and then we bring in Jeremy Irvin, who contributes a great deal, and just see where each song takes us. Sometimes Mike Snowden will come record some bass lines, and a song will take a new direction. We never know what it is going to sound like until we start laying it down. It’s really about experimentation and improvisation.

LEO: Whistle Peak doesn’t sound like many other bands, indie or otherwise. What do you hear when you hear Whistle Peak?

BP: I hear some strange amalgamation of everything. Spaces bleeding across boundaries. The old made new … I refer to it as “electro-folk.” Kevin Ratterman, who mastered both albums, once called it “hi-fi-lo-fi.” Our buddy Tim Stratman calls it “future hits.”

LEO: Where do your songs come from? What inspires you?

BP: Our loved ones. Our love of nature. Relationships. David and I have been close friends and songwriting partners since high school, so he inspires me a great deal. I like to think he’d say the same. The music of others certainly inspires us. When I hear something I really like, I immediately want to sit down and write some that makes me feel that way again.

LEO: Where did you record it?

BP: David records it all at his home with some less-than-stellar equipment. We’ve been using the same Gateway computer to record on since 1999. Before that, we were recording on analog 4-tracks and stuff like that, so I think we prefer that sound of being homemade in a way, of just using the tools we have handy, whether that is a pot, a paintbrush or tea kettle. This time around, we wanted to do things the same way but try and make it sound professionally done — radio-friendly, I guess — or at least as though we spent a lot of money, which we did not.

Whistle Peak plays a record release show at Zanzabar on March 3.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Demetri Martin’s comic eye

Law school dropout Demetri Martin has thrived in comedy — landing TV specials, albums, a recurring spot on “The Daily Show”, his own series, starring in the movie “Taking Woodstock” and writing a best-selling book — and at 38, he’s just getting started. LEO spoke with him as he drove on his “Telling Jokes in Cold Places Tour”.

LEO: Usually a headliner does a weekend. Why do we only get you for one night?
Demetri Martin: I’m doing a TV taping on the 18th of February, a stand-up special. I haven’t done one of those since 2007, so I wanted to do a bunch of shows and get ready for that. We just found places that I felt would be fun to run the set, try out new material and lead up to it.

LEO: How’s the new material going over?
DM: Really well. I haven’t had a chance to focus exclusively on stand-up in quite a while. I wrote a book, I’m writing a pilot — an animated show for Fox — I’ve written a couple of screenplays, and had a couple acting jobs. It’s been cool to get other things, but now I get to go back to what I do most, which is stand-up.

LEO: Zach Galifianakis has, like you, been using sketch pads in his stand-up for years. Is there something about Greek-American comedians that makes you guys more visual?
DM: (laughs) Maybe! There’s Zach, me, Tina Fey’s Greek … there aren’t that many of us, especially in comedy. We have to reach. I have a lot of Jewish friends, and that list is amazing — they have Einstein (laughs). We have Telly Savalas, who a lot of people don’t know any more. John Stamos.

LEO: Comedy Central has given shows to a number of talented people who seem to walk away unhappy with their experience. Did you have problems with them, creatively?
DM: The creative side, they were pretty good to me. Marketing it was always a real struggle; how to promote the show and myself, as a human being. You get a sense that they’re not interested, like, “We know how to sell stuff, and we’re going to sell it, and that’s how it’s gonna be.” But, on the Comedy Central scale of dealing with people, they were pretty nice to me. When it comes to business, they’re pretty notorious, pretty tough. They’re not too amenable to compromising too much. But I can’t really complain; I got to do a lot of stuff. I got to do my series.

LEO: Is your goal to have a career like Woody Allen’s?
DM: If I could have one-tenth of his career, I’d be lucky. I always think of Woody and Albert Brooks. There’s two examples, and rare examples, of people who develop a specific sensibility and they’re able to tell stories — and in different media. On the page, in films, stand-up …

LEO: Were you able to learn from some of the directors you’ve worked for?
DM: Yeah, the few movie roles I’ve been able to get, those have been really educational. I got to be on a set with Ang Lee and Steven Soderberg, and those were really cool. There’s so much information to absorb while you’re there, even if you only work a couple of days. And doing my series, two seasons of that, was really helpful. That taught me a lot about getting through a production day, all the moving parts, and also budgets, which is really not my strong suit at all.

LEO: Is it true that you were up for the part Jonah Hill played in Moneyball?
DM: Yeah. I was attached to the part, when it was with a different director. I worked for a day with Soderbergh and Brad Pitt, it was really fun — and then the next day, the movie was shut down.

LEO: You picked the cities on this tour. Was there anything about Louisville that appealed to you?
DM: A couple things. Number one, I’ve never done stand-up in Louisville. I’m certainly interested to see who shows up, and how it goes. Number two, it worked well with routing. Number three, I dated a girl a long time ago from Louisville, and she was really cool. That’s not very relevant to stand-up, but it’s nice.

Demetri Martin
Feb. 9
The Improv
441 S. 4th St. • 581-1332
demetrimartin.com
$30; 8 p.m.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Heartless Bastards, all over the road

Heartless Bastards began in Cincinnati clubs and, less than a decade later, have established themselves as one of the most vital rock ’n’ roll bands left. Just in time for the so-appropriate Valentine’s Day, Heartless Bastards’ fourth album, Arrow, produced by Spoon’s Jim Eno, will be released. Bandleader Erika Wennerstrom, who spoke with LEO, moved to Eno’s Austin, Texas, four years ago.

“I moved to Austin because I was in a nine-year relationship, and we split up. I happened to have family here, and my management at the time was located here. So I had a support system to help me get started,” Wennerstrom says. “Although I think Austin’s a great music town, and I love living here, that’s not what drew me here. I think a lot of people assume that, but … it’s a nice perk to living here.”

Wennerstrom’s tendency to travel influenced her latest record in some unexpected ways. “I’m really proud of it,” she says of the new album, the band’s first for Partisan Records after three albums released by Fat Possum Records. “It took me probably three years to write. I’d had melodies over a two-year period popping in my head, but once we got done touring from (2009 album) The Mountain, I started sitting down and focusing on how to say what I wanted to say in the songs. I have some sort of A.D.D.-focus problems, so I ended up deciding to take some road trips.”

Wennerstrom got in her car and drove around for a month or so, from Austin back up to see friends and family in Ohio, then over to the Catskill Mountains.

“I met up with some friends who were playing at (the festival) All Tomorrow’s Parties in the Catskills in New York, fall 2010. That was inspiring. I stayed in a cabin up there after it was over on my own for several days, then I drove down to the Alleghenies in Pennsylvania and found a place there, a cabin on a lake, to stay. It was a campground, but, on weekdays, it was pretty vacant.”

From there, she continued on to Arkansas, where her father once lived near Hot Springs, before landing in a friend’s house on a ranch outside the famed artist colony of Marfa, Texas.

“I think, through that process, I didn’t get done nearly as much as I’d hoped, but I feel like it was a lot of the inspiration for what I did end up writing,” says the 33-year-old native of Dayton, Ohio. “There’s a lot of imagery from the trip, and certain lines would pop in my head when I was driving. They would guide me to finish the songs. I brought the songs in to the band, and we all started working on them. Jim Eno, who produced the album, made some suggestions; one of his suggestions I really liked was touring on the songs before we recorded them. So we opened up for the Drive-By Truckers on a month-long West Coast tour last spring, then we went right in the studio two days after we got back. I really feel like it created a real live sound to the album. A lot of the takes that we did, there’s not a lot of added instrumentation and filler.”

Wennerstrom is happy for the success her friends The Black Keys have had, and is realistic about the Bastards’ place in the universe.

“I’m really proud of what I’ve accomplished so far. I do what I do, and release songs to the public because I want people to hear them — so, sure, as many people as will like a song that I create, that feels good. If I were to only go as far as I already have, as far as people being aware of who the band is, I’m content. I love what I do, and I want to do it for as long as I’m capable of it. And I’m going to do it whether I have five fans or 5 million, or … something (laughs). There’s just something in me that needs to create, and this is my way of expressing myself. I’m going to do that, whether people hear it or not.”

Heartless Bastards
with Hacienda and Houndmouth
Monday, Feb. 13
Headliners Music Hall
1386 Lexington Road • 584-8088
theheartlessbastards.com
$15; 8 p.m.

Photo by Nathan Presley

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

No sleep, no college for Xerxes

Our Home Is a Deathbed, the first full-length album by the Louisville-based thrashy hardcore punk band Xerxes, will be released next month. Recorded with Kevin Ratterman (Wax Fang, My Morning Jacket) at his Funeral Home studio, the album is a big step forward for the precocious quintet, who will play a show at a secret location this weekend. LEO spoke with bassist Will Allard in December.

LEO: You guys are going to be pretty busy in 2012.
Will Allard: It’s getting really crazy. We did a bunch of touring earlier in the year (2011), then we took time to write the record; we did basically nothing but put all of our energy into that. We’ll be gone most of 2012.

LEO: On the first leg of the tour, coming back through here, you’re doing 40-some cities in about 40 days?
WA: Yeah, 41 shows in 41 days. Then we’re home for three weeks, then we go out again. It should be pretty wild.

LEO: Why did you want to work with Kevin Ratterman on this album?
WA: We went with him because of his past roster. He was awesome to work with, the vibe of the studio fit our needs, and it was an awesome experience. We didn’t want to go anywhere out of Louisville, we wanted to keep it all in the circle. Not to sound cheesy, but keeping it where home is, keeping it Louisville, I guess.

LEO: What does that mean to you?
WA: We grew up all loving the bands that were before us — like Mountain Asleep, who’s our brother band, and Coliseum, Young Widows, By the Grace of God, Breather Resist — all those maximum Louisville bands.

LEO: How long do you think it will take before younger kids start citing you as an influence?
WA: Oh, I don’t even know. I don’t even care (laughs), but if it happens, it’s cool. It’s not a goal.

LEO: What’s the age range of the band members now?
WA: Everyone is 19 except (guitarist) James (Moore). I think he’s 20.

LEO: That’s pretty young to have gotten as far as you guys have come already.
WA: Yeah, we’re all a bunch of youngsters. We’ve been doing this since we were, like, 16, and we’ve been touring since we were 17. We wanted to just do it, and take advantage of being young while we can abuse our bodies, you know? (laughs) When you’re 30, you can’t really go out for 41 days in a row and expect to function.

LEO: When you talk about abusing your bodies, are you talking about playing and jumping around?
WA: Yeah — sleeping on floors, loading in to dirty venues, playing a 15-minute-long set and abusing your body by letting it all pour out, just burn it all out in 15 minutes or so.

LEO: Can you look ahead to 30 and guess if you’ll still be playing music like this? Or will you turn into one of those ex-punker folk singers or rockabilly guys?
WA: (laughs) No, I’ll be doing this for forever, so … the only thing I know is this is all I want to do, and the same goes for everyone else in the band. We’re not really good at anything else (laughs).

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Serious fun

JP Source isn’t just another DJ. He’s a sound artist who describes his sounds as “Deep balearic disco party house,” and, unlike most American DJs, he speaks with a British accent because he’s actually British. His new EP is titled Get Your Bearings.

LEO: How did this record release come together?

JPS: The tracks are very party-oriented, especially in contrast to a release I had this year on Audio Parallax, which was a much more cerebral, almost cathartic EP. The tracks (on Get Your Bearings) had been tested on the dance floor rigorously. The people behind the label liked the fun vibe of the tracks and said they wanted to put them out, which was lovely! I really like their attitude, which maintains a healthy work ethic without taking themselves too seriously.

LEO: How do you respond to people who diss DJs?

JPS: It depends how big they are. Essentially, when I’m DJing, all I’m trying to do is play you some music that I think you will like. If it’s not working out, then whoops, but let’s not fall out about it. I really haven’t heard about anyone “dissing” DJs too much recently, apart from Noel Gallagher — but I think he was referring to a lot of the chart dance stuff sounding the same.

LEO: Who are some locals doing stuff you find interesting?

JPS: I’ve spent a lot of time with OK Deejays. They have been really friendly and helpful to me since I got here. I DJ with them when I can, and it’s always fun. I really love WFPK. It’s really pretty unique, particularly in the later hours. That radio station is allegorical for a lot of things that I have found in the music and art scene here in Louisville, in that it isn’t just “good for Kentucky,” it’s really an outstanding thing as part of a much wider sense. The restaurants and many, many ales are good here, too.

JP Source spins at Zanzabar on Feb. 1 and presents “Balearic Sunset” at La Bodega Saturday nights. For more, go to soundcloud.com/jpsource.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Elephant Micah: In his own time

For some people, Joe O’Connell might be the best songwriter in the whole world, and they'll stand on Bob Dylan's coffee table in their cowboy boots and say that.

So why isn’t he more of a household name yet? His music as Elephant Micah — a name used both solo and with rotating accompanists — is a modern, DIY take on early 1970s folk mixed, at times, with bursts of electric guitar textures. It’s accessible, beautiful, and would likely find a larger audience, if given the conventional promotional push.

For O’Connell, who self-releases his music, one reason for Elephant Micah’s slow path to wider recognition has been a reluctance to play by the rules established by his industry. “New artists starting out now probably don’t have ambitions of having some decade-long career doing obscure self-releases,” he laughs. “Most people looking to get attention for their music are actually trying to be part of the bigger indie label system. I don’t see it as two separate options, though. I’m not really setting out to ennoble one and vilify the other. What I am into is the idea that you can mess with the model of what a recording artist does, and how they get their work to people.”

Another aspect is his desire to stay in control of the music itself, especially when other options are unappealing or inaccessible. “Most of the musicians that I know are in that position. The gatekeeping to participate in the more visible indie world is so pronounced and so impossible to navigate that the musicians — the people who are considered my peers — have all found it a waste of time, and are looking for ways to be a little more self-reliant.”

Finding social media to be more of a distraction than a facilitator, O’Connell sells his catalogue through his own site and through Bandcamp. His loyal audience receives emails alerting them to new recordings; he doesn’t want them to have to work as hard as he does. “More and more, I want everything I record to be available by donation. I’m actually surprised that more people don’t do that, especially those who are not in the position of being part of the industry status quo approach to releasing music. Otherwise, it’s like the artist is in more of the role of a gatekeeper, trying to control access to their music. I’m more interested in trying to increase that access and less interested in trying to control it. I think that’s good for everyone involved, the audience and independent artists who are relying on their audience in a more direct way for support.”

Elephant Micah’s new album, Louder Than Thou, was released this week, though its songs were written in 2008. “The experience of playing it back now, it’s a little bit disorienting — the way the finished thing refers back to each layer of work that you put into it,” O’Connell says.

“Because I’m mostly doing everything myself, really involved in each step, each of those steps producing a record is really intense. Or like an intense memory. Hearing the record is like this time-travel experience of all of the triumphs and all of the failures of trying to put it together,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh. “But I’m trying to be funny, I don’t mean that in any earnest way.”

O’Connell had help from longtime collaborators and brothers Justin and Nathan Vollmer on this album, made in his current home of Bloomington, Ind., and he says he’s trying to make recordings of newer songs more quickly now. A native of Pekin, Ind., the former Louisvillian hesitates to make comparisons between his musical experiences in each city.

“In some sense, the people that I know in Louisville have a shared interest in folk and country music, and acoustic music. My experience in Bloomington has a little more to do with … sort of rock,” he notes. “I’m really interested in playing loud music with electric guitar and drums, as well as I’m really into country and bluegrass and all that stuff.”

Photo by William Winchester Claytor.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly