Post-punk poets

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She Might Bite’s first, self-titled EP was a visceral, fresh update of punk-era bands like the Slits and Gang of Four, with sharp, jagged guitars flying into pounding drums. They call it “punk-surf-garage-rock poetry.” Though they even threw a ballad into that first collection, fiery songs like “Dead Weight” and “Sinister Device” left no doubt that this was no mere New Wave pop-slop. Oddly, they began as two sisters attempting to be folkies. Their first full-length album, Feral, is due soon.

LEO: How’s the album coming?

Tara Kimes: Good. It’s finished … as far as how it’s going to be released, we’re still sort of figuring that out.

LEO: Who’s in the band now? How many changes have you had lately?

TK: Just me and (drummer) Kathryn (Slaughter). We have been having a lot of fun jamming and experimenting. Our next show (on June 21) will be our first as a duo. Changes — we’ve gone through two bass players in the last year.

LEO: There’s a song called “Punk Bitch” on your EP. What inspired that?

TK: My sister (Courtney) wrote that one day. She said she just felt like shit, was having a low day, and was frustrated that she couldn’t play any instruments.

LEO: Is it hard to be a musician in a band?

TK: No. Being a musician in a band, so far, is the thing that I wake up and am thankful for. It puts ease and gratitude into my life. I think it makes other areas of my life balanced and easier.

LEO: What have you been listening to lately?

TK: I have been really enjoying Patti Smith lately — I love her song “Piss Factory.” Also, Iggy Pop, in my car. This morning, I kept playing “Golden” by Jill Scott on my record player, over and over. Kathryn has been getting into psychedelic Japanese bands.

She Might Bite plays Saturday at Zanzabar, with Dane Waters and Julie of the Wolves. Find more info about the band at reverbnation.com/shemightbite.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

In the wake

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The sights and sounds of Forecastle X

Rachel Grimes, the contemporary classical pianist and Louisvillian, took a moment during her sunny mid-Sunday afternoon slot at the Forecastle Festival to greet the out-of-towners who had traveled here for the 10th annual fest.

Though numerous local musicians, friends and family were also in attendance, cheering her on as she undertook the unenviable task of performing subtle yet complex compositions to half-naked young drinkers, Grimes relayed her experiences writing and recording near Bardstown, where Thomas Merton’s abbey coexists near the Maker’s Mark and Heaven Hill distilleries. Her description of throwing back bourbon on the porch with the earthy, good-hearted Sisters of Loretto sure made me want to move here — and I’ve lived here for many years.

It was a bit of a surprise that My Morning Jacket’s headlining set Saturday night lacked similar “welcome to Louisville” banter. But it’s not as though they haven’t done so, so much for Louisville (and this festival surely boasted more local bands than most fests drawing upwards of 30,000 attendees); possibly, the band was just exhausted from a long week of prepping, playing, hosting and running around. (Jacket leader Jim James was a serial drop-in guest of others’ sets during the fest, perhaps only bested by cellist Ben Sollee.)

This was the first full-on Forecastle Festival (last year there was only a mini-fest) overseen by AC Entertainment, the promotions company that also runs the Bonnaroo, Moogfest and Big Ears festivals. Without taking anything away from founder J.K. McKnight and his army of volunteers who built Forecastle from the ground up, many noted how efficient and well-oiled the machine was this year. Aside from some Porta-Potty lighting issues, and the usual “too expensive” beer complaints typical of every festival, Waterfront Park was transformed into an easy-to-navigate playground of bands, booze, food, art, and sartorial choices ranging from “She looks great, but she must be sweltering in that” to “Who told the reincarnation of John Candy he could wear a backpack but no shirt?”

Though Saturday’s early afternoon attack of pounding rain threatened to overtake the biggest day, it ended quickly and the show went on with only minor delays, rescheduling, mud, and the city curfew extended to 12:30 a.m. That extra half-hour allowed MMJ time to add covers of songs by Elton John, George Harrison, The Band, and, most popularly, Wham!’s “Careless Whisper,” which included band members handing out bananas to a few delirious fans up front.

Though I can’t easily explain why bananas were shared, it was an episode typical of James’ sense of whimsy, which also included bringing old friends the Squallis Puppeteers on stage, and encouraged an atmosphere where Lexington’s March Madness Marching Band could set up under the I-64 overpass and thrill a crowd with their spontaneous-feeling outbursts of music and spectacle. There was also a guy (we assume?) dressed as Gumby often seen enjoying the weekend.

The sound from the five stages occasionally bled into each other, as one might expect, but, mostly, it was possible to focus on one band at a time, if one desired. Though My Morning Jacket exudes more funk than jam band these days, visitors and regular festival-goers might have been surprised by the lack of Widespread Phish Incident-type bands. Instead, audiences grooved to New Orleans’ Galactic and the Preservation Hall Jazz Band, the eccentric soul of Charles Bradley, and Benin’s Orchestre Poly Rythmo de Cotonou.

Subtlety proved to be a harder sell through such a weekend (we still love you, Andrew Bird), and the big noises from MMJ, Wilco, Bassnectar, Sleigh Bells, Flying Lotus, A-Trak, and, naturally, Girl Talk, went over just fine. Beach House won over skeptics with a lovely set, local favorite Neko Case made many swoon, Lower Dens proved to be one to watch, and the Head and the Heart continued their ascension. Locals from a revitalized Nerves Junior to a realigned Wax Fang showed outliers what we’ve got here — in addition to a plethora of natural-smelling, PBR tallboy-drinking, independent music lovers.

Additional reporting by Damien McPherson.

Photo by Casey Chalmers.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Mucca Pazza abides

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Last week, My Morning Jacket played their first Forecastle. This week, Mucca Pazza finally plays Lebowski Fest. It’s the other most perfect marriage of spirit, soul and sound to be found around these parts. For those who have somehow missed the Chicago-based marching big-band with the circus-punk attitude, this setting is the most appropriately absurd, celebratory and comically relaxed way to enjoy their show. Their latest album, Safety Fifth, was released last month. LEO emailed with three of the two-dozen members.

LEO: Can you name three other bands who are similar to you?

Jeff Thomas: The New York Philharmonic, because we have more than four people in our band. R. Kelly, because we are both from Chicago and have a certain sensuality in our music — though his is sexual, ours is more aromatic. Iggy Pop, because the stage isn’t big enough — we have to go out in the audience often.

LEO: You’ve been touring more in the past year and going farther away from Chicago. Is it any easier or harder to tour more?

JT: There are challenges in organizing a tour for 20-plus people, but those challenges are surpassed by the joy of showing a new audience what we can do. Maybe we inspire you to organize a big band of your own. Or in the case of your hometown children’s percussion group, the Louisville Leopards, arrange one of our songs to inspire children to create music.

Mark Messing & Gary Kalar: Harder in that it takes more breadcrumbs to find our way back. Easier in that at least there’s something to eat on the way home. And truthfully, it feels so good to play music every day, plus the added joy of making friends and allies across the country puts a lot of gas in the gas tank of the heart.

LEO: How do you tour? In a circus bus?

MM & GK: Actually, the real circus is in the tour planning. Our planning team are superstars. It must be like splitting atoms. They have to deal with various departure times and places, varied sleeping habits and diets and degrees of odors, and then, of course, the allergies. If someone we’re staying with has a cat, then you have to move the people with the cat allergies off the bus and into the special allergy van.

LEO: What types of jobs do the members have in their real lives?

JT: There is a nice mix of members who have what may be called “straight” jobs and those that may be called “freelance” jobs. This balance has afforded us the manpower and flexibility to tour and still maintain a regular group of musicians without needing to seek out new ones.

MM & GK: It’s like a little village: scientists, teachers, bartenders, programmers, dance instructors, carpenters, and full-time musicians. Having a band with a bunch of musicians would be just too hard!

LEO: You’re coming back for Lebowski Fest. How do you feel about the movie, collectively?

JT: I am reminded by the Whitman poem “Song of Myself,” where he states, ... every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you. That movie and the poem are very much like our live show. It is a collection of singular experiences that are filtered and sifted to create a universal experience shared by everyone uniquely.

MM & GK: I’d say we all think that rug really tied the room together.

Lebowski Fest featuring Mucca Pazza and Mesiko
Friday, July 20
Executive Strike & Spare
911 Phillips Lane
lebowskifest.com
$15 adv., $18 DOS; 8 p.m.

Photo by CB Lindsey.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Goodbye to Goodwill

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June Leffler created and ran the youth-based arts and culture Goodwill Zine (GWZ) for 11 issues. Now, after a final “end of the world” issue, the end has arrived. Leffler told LEO about her experience becoming part of Louisville’s do-it-yourself underground culture.

LEO: How did you discover zines?
June Leffler: When I was 13, I found my mother’s zine she did in the late ’80s. It was called “WAMBAF” (Women Against Men, Boys Are Fuckers) and was really just a means for my mom and her girlfriends to talk about dumb stuff like the high school scene and boys they were into. It was a productive and creative means of just bitching about themselves.

When I stumbled across this, I immediately knew I wanted to make one. I knew I could do the same … Even though I love art, and learning even more so, I didn’t really create or interact with (creative) people too much until I learned of zines. Without finding zines, I’d probably be a pretty plain person.

LEO: Why did Louisville need Goodwill?
JL: GWZ was founded, really, in an effort to put out a consistent and somewhat mass-distributed zine. We don’t have a zine culture, even though we’re pretty hip and artsy for our size. Zines are a vital part of DIY culture. People are, of course, out there doing it on their own … I wanted to produce a zine that people could pick up, because it was probably the first zine a lot of Louisville people saw. And I know it was because I constantly have to tell educated or cultured people what a zine is, how it’s pronounced.

I wanted Louisville to have a super-grassroots yet consistently published zine, as Louisville actually has had in the past. Thankfully, other small publications and zines are popping up. I wanted to talk about aspects of the youth and arts community that I thought were cool. Louisville’s great at maintaining high-school cliques, myself included. I wanted to talk about my friends and people I had just met, because no one else was talking about them.

LEO: Why zines instead of an online blog?
JL: I really wouldn’t ever think to blog. The only blogs I read are like recipe blogs, and in that case, I can go to any used bookstore and get a cheap cookbook and enjoy it a little bit more.

I can barely acknowledge print going out because I personally read books and zines. Maybe print is becoming a gourmet operation, for the poetry buffs and letterpress artists. If so, I think the zine community is just as strong, because zines represent all that’s necessary in DIY publishing. It’s the same reason tapes and vinyl are hip, right?

LEO: How did you feel about being in charge?
JL: I had been in college and helped out with other publications. The zine was something I started independently and funded independently, until we received our KFW (Kentucky Foundation for Women) grant. Being a college student, not having to worry about making a profit off of this project, I was able to do something completely innovative. I was only responsible to myself and my own terms.

Having done the zine, I realize how important it is to do independent and innovative projects when you’re young. We’re at a pivotal age where we’re going to lose all of our dissatisfied punk gusto — that I myself had as a teen — hoping for an open spot in the professional or academic world.

LEO: How did Alex Major help you keep it going?
JL: We met during the second issue, and, since then, he’s done the layout for the zine. I haven’t met anyone I share such artistic ethos with. He’s a collage and indie comic artist aiming for low-fi prolificness. That prolificness over perfectionism is what made people aware of us. The project was really ours. Some people would end up taking over issues with all their writing, but Alex and I were the only two constants throughout the three years.

LEO: Future plans?
JL: I hope to teach abroad, set up a Louisville zine library, and host a second “make a zine in a month” challenge in September.

GWZ can still be found online at goodwillzine.com.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly