In last week's USA Weekend magazine, the cover story was about Drew Barrymore. Generally, that wouldn’t interest me, but this story caught my eye. The cover quoted her as saying, "I'm trying to figure out what the second half of my life is going to be."
Barrymore, 35, is only 6 months younger than me, and only slightly young enough still to remain within the youth-obsessed media's acceptable age demographic.
From the perspective of today's teens, I suppose she's been an adult for a long time now. By any reasonable standard, 35 is fairly adult. But, as someone who's known about (if not actually know) Barrymore since we were both 7, it's odd, having to consider that someone still so youthful and immature-seeming is barreling towards 40. Because that means that I am, too.
This isn't a problem for me, though. I'm one of those people who got called "an old soul" by concerned teachers. I can't wait to yell, "Get off my lawn!" at some rambunctious kids without having to worry that they might still consider me young enough for a fight.
I anticipate being a lot more adorable at 70 than I was at 35. At the very least, it will make more sense, why I'm wandering around in a cardigan and sensible shoes, mumbling about how the Kardashians haven't done anything to deserve their fame.
In the same magazine, I saw that Macauley Culkin just turned 30. Melissa Joan Hart, TV’s "Sabrina the Teenage Witch", and starring in a new sitcom with Joey Lawrence, also 34. Remember Hanson? They just played a free show at Ear X-tacy. Among the three of them, the brothers now have seven children. Recently, Hanson played inside Ear X-tacy. The Hanson brothers now have 7 children between them.
I've tried to be young. It just wasn’t for me. There’s not much worse than not knowing what's going on, not knowing who you are, being at the mercy of so many cruel factors - parents, teachers, bosses. I'd rather be old, rich and fat than get really stoned while the Foo Fighters play in a field behind me.
Meanwhile, all around me, some of my peers are trying hard not to grow up and move on. Hey, I'm glad that your band was awesome in 1989. I'm sure it was super exciting for you when you were 16, rocking out with your teenage fans and friends, hormones in overdrive and totally stoked to move out of your parents house one day. But now we're heading towards middle age, and even Drew Barrymore is getting old.
Why do bands keep reuniting 20 years later, but old high school football teams never do? Would that really be any different? Both are intensely physical roles played by people who are, ideally, in prime physical and mental shape, trained and ready to go out and conquer in the name of glory, money and, most importantly, chicks.
Athletes, like dancers, retire much younger than teachers or doctors for a pretty obvious reason. Yet seeing how old, fat and sad the Pixies look now did little to discourage their fans.
Clearly, I didn’t peak in my teens. I’m finally happy now, in my 30’s. I did what I guess you'd call "settling down". No more psychodrama romances, no more staying out 'til 4 a.m. drinking away the pain. Now we have cats — three of them — and they are much more entertaining than hanging out with dudes, rocking out to yet another intense band in yet another sweaty basement.
That stuff helped me hate the suburbs and Ronald Reagan when I was an angry teen, but now I get to live in a great neighborhood in a lovely city, and we finally have a president who symbolizes the fact that this country is making progress and dealing with its prejudices.
Dear Generation X, our turn is over. Kennedy is no longer our VJ. MTV doesn't even play videos any more. Winona Ryder is no longer a movie star and Soul Asylum is finally a faded memory. Reality doesn’t bite us any more.
C. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, September 01, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Column #19: Cool music took the heat out of sucky summers
"Is this record called 'Summer's Greatest Hits'?", my wife asked.
The record I had playing as we dressed that morning wasn't but, as a collection of the Lovin' Spoonful's greatest hits, could have been.
Even without their classic song, "Summer in the City", the Lovin' Spoonful still reign as the most summery-sounding band ever. Their bouncy, light songs - thoughtful but never heavy, optimistic even when sad - sound the way that summer should feel.
Just not this summer.
As kids, we loved summer because we didn't have to go to school. We were free to play with our friends, go to camp and have important but long-forgotten romances.
Today, however, summer is a poorly-planned fusion of work, familial obligations and 60-band music festivals stuffed with leather-pants-wearing 22-year-olds hoping to conquer the world and bloated has-beens who gave up trying long ago.
The part of this formula that I really don’t understand is why, if they insist on making us sit through so many bands in one day, they can’t do it in the spring and in the fall? It’s so much nicer outside then, and there’s not much competition in the festival business.
Festival headliners such as Huey Lewis and Smashing Pumpkins are just glad that they don’t have to play the State Fair yet. Wouldn’t they sound even less pathetic without sweat dripping in our ears?
I haven't been a fan of this season for a while. A surplus of bright heat and shirtless men who should, really, have more shame is bad enough. Worse, for me, though, is the lack of quality television.
No matter how exciting that action-packed sequel to that comic book movie is, it's still less than two hours long and costs almost $10 per person. What am I supposed to do the rest of the week? I'm thankful that summer TV has improved, but even the best efforts of the cable channels aren't enough to fool me into thinking that they're really trying.
The MTV series Jersey Shore is back. You already knew this, of course, due to the national media's decision to spend more time discussing Snooki's latest hot tub adventure than, say, the two wars we find ourselves mired in, or the continuing tragedy of the Gulf oil spill.
How Bruce Springsteen allowed those twits to redefine the very concept of summer fun in the name of his home state is another unforgivable scandal.
Earlier this summer, I found myself craving the Boss's second album, the unjustly lesser-known The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle. I had an urge to enjoy something, anything, summery under 100 degrees (besides ice cream).
The album begins with bleating horns suggesting an impending New Orleans funeral party, so you know that you’re in for a good time.
A funk groove that playfully dates it to the '70's takes over, while Bruce narrates one of his first stories of young lovers and fighters making the best of their situation. The album is filled with voices rising in the background, the sounds of block parties and backyard bar-b-ques in full swing.
“As them sweet summer nights turn into summer dreams/Little Angel picks up Power and he slips on his jeans/And they move on out down to the scene/All the kids are dancin'.”
Accordions, organs and horns (including a tuba!) propel the swingin' shuffles and teen romance ballads; what makes this album seem so summery is its looseness, especially compared to anything the E Street band has done in the past 35 years.
They weren't famous, they were lean, hungry and wore sleeveless shirts and beards; they were less working class heroes than young guys looking for the next cold beer and/or warm companion.
“Oh Sandy, the aurora is risin' behind us/The pier lights our carnival life on the water/Runnin' down the beach at night with my boss's daughter/Well he ain't my boss no more, Sandy.”
Take that, Katy Perry.
The record I had playing as we dressed that morning wasn't but, as a collection of the Lovin' Spoonful's greatest hits, could have been.
Even without their classic song, "Summer in the City", the Lovin' Spoonful still reign as the most summery-sounding band ever. Their bouncy, light songs - thoughtful but never heavy, optimistic even when sad - sound the way that summer should feel.
Just not this summer.
As kids, we loved summer because we didn't have to go to school. We were free to play with our friends, go to camp and have important but long-forgotten romances.
Today, however, summer is a poorly-planned fusion of work, familial obligations and 60-band music festivals stuffed with leather-pants-wearing 22-year-olds hoping to conquer the world and bloated has-beens who gave up trying long ago.
The part of this formula that I really don’t understand is why, if they insist on making us sit through so many bands in one day, they can’t do it in the spring and in the fall? It’s so much nicer outside then, and there’s not much competition in the festival business.
Festival headliners such as Huey Lewis and Smashing Pumpkins are just glad that they don’t have to play the State Fair yet. Wouldn’t they sound even less pathetic without sweat dripping in our ears?
I haven't been a fan of this season for a while. A surplus of bright heat and shirtless men who should, really, have more shame is bad enough. Worse, for me, though, is the lack of quality television.
No matter how exciting that action-packed sequel to that comic book movie is, it's still less than two hours long and costs almost $10 per person. What am I supposed to do the rest of the week? I'm thankful that summer TV has improved, but even the best efforts of the cable channels aren't enough to fool me into thinking that they're really trying.
The MTV series Jersey Shore is back. You already knew this, of course, due to the national media's decision to spend more time discussing Snooki's latest hot tub adventure than, say, the two wars we find ourselves mired in, or the continuing tragedy of the Gulf oil spill.
How Bruce Springsteen allowed those twits to redefine the very concept of summer fun in the name of his home state is another unforgivable scandal.
Earlier this summer, I found myself craving the Boss's second album, the unjustly lesser-known The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle. I had an urge to enjoy something, anything, summery under 100 degrees (besides ice cream).
The album begins with bleating horns suggesting an impending New Orleans funeral party, so you know that you’re in for a good time.
A funk groove that playfully dates it to the '70's takes over, while Bruce narrates one of his first stories of young lovers and fighters making the best of their situation. The album is filled with voices rising in the background, the sounds of block parties and backyard bar-b-ques in full swing.
“As them sweet summer nights turn into summer dreams/Little Angel picks up Power and he slips on his jeans/And they move on out down to the scene/All the kids are dancin'.”
Accordions, organs and horns (including a tuba!) propel the swingin' shuffles and teen romance ballads; what makes this album seem so summery is its looseness, especially compared to anything the E Street band has done in the past 35 years.
They weren't famous, they were lean, hungry and wore sleeveless shirts and beards; they were less working class heroes than young guys looking for the next cold beer and/or warm companion.
“Oh Sandy, the aurora is risin' behind us/The pier lights our carnival life on the water/Runnin' down the beach at night with my boss's daughter/Well he ain't my boss no more, Sandy.”
Take that, Katy Perry.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Column #18: Facebook can be a mundane fantasy world
My friend Justin posted a status update last week: “When Robin and I get home for the evening, we don't talk about our respective days. We like to talk about what you, our Facebook friends, have been doing today. Thanks.”
After laughing out loud (which is what I do in real life; I tend to reserve my “LOL”ing for online conversations about “The Family Circus” or local music festivals), I thought about what might have stimulated this obviously sarcastic post.
Though a walk through any office or school today makes it seem like everyone in the world uses Facebook, there’s still a billion folks who don’t. Most of my relatives don’t.
Aside from the time commitment, the complaints I hear from non-users are usually of the “I don’t want some kid I went to third grade with wanting to be my ‘friend’” variety - though most of these same people would otherwise enjoy seeing that popular jock from high school as a 38-year-old fattie, if it were in an alumni newsletter.
What’s sad about such pictures is that social sites such as this offer people a place to present a better version of themselves, and yet most don’t even understand how to do so.
Facebook is where you can try to convince others of the fantasy that you are more awesome than them. If a documentary film is like real life without the boring parts, then Facebook is like real life without the boring parts, and without people getting to hear how annoying your voice is, how often you nervously play with your hair and how bad you look in profile.
Yet most merely bombard us, their friends, with updates such as “I wish I was at home instead of work,” “It really is hot today!” and “I’m hungry.”
I use it primarily to learn about events - music, art, beer, anything fun and occasionally charitable. If I could get that information without having to read five opinions of a basketball game, I would.
Such updates often serve to remind me that I’m not missing much in the real world. But hey, have fun at that late night dance party, guy I used to work with five years ago. I’ll see your pictures in the morning.
Facebook holdouts don’t listen to me when I tell them that I rarely get messaged by old classmates. The holdouts talk about privacy, but don’t want to acknowledge that information about everyone can be found online, somewhere, whether we like it or not.
If you don’t want non-friends to see what you’re up to, it’s easy to quickly learn how to hide one’s ostensibly personal information on Facebook. As an old married man, I don’t care if my parents or bosses see what I’m up to. Even when I was younger and making stupid choices in public, I stayed out of pictures that might embarrass me.
Why are so many thrilled about typing their lunch into this website? Talking about what you ate, seemingly to make others jealous of how much better you’re eating than them, is not charming. It’s like seeing a Food Network program without any explanations or recipes, let alone pretty pictures.
It’s the jealousy angle that fascinates me the most. I don’t get why people think writing, “On the beach in Hawaii. Sooo beautiful!” is helping anyone. The rest of us just hate you for having something that we all want.
I post pictures of trips online, though I worry a little about alienating others. There’s a big difference, though, between seeing a beautiful sunset – or a double rainbow – and merely reading about one. Same with that huge burrito you had for lunch. If it’s so special, why don’t you take a picture of it? The kids on the playground tell me that it’ll last longer.
After laughing out loud (which is what I do in real life; I tend to reserve my “LOL”ing for online conversations about “The Family Circus” or local music festivals), I thought about what might have stimulated this obviously sarcastic post.
Though a walk through any office or school today makes it seem like everyone in the world uses Facebook, there’s still a billion folks who don’t. Most of my relatives don’t.
Aside from the time commitment, the complaints I hear from non-users are usually of the “I don’t want some kid I went to third grade with wanting to be my ‘friend’” variety - though most of these same people would otherwise enjoy seeing that popular jock from high school as a 38-year-old fattie, if it were in an alumni newsletter.
What’s sad about such pictures is that social sites such as this offer people a place to present a better version of themselves, and yet most don’t even understand how to do so.
Facebook is where you can try to convince others of the fantasy that you are more awesome than them. If a documentary film is like real life without the boring parts, then Facebook is like real life without the boring parts, and without people getting to hear how annoying your voice is, how often you nervously play with your hair and how bad you look in profile.
Yet most merely bombard us, their friends, with updates such as “I wish I was at home instead of work,” “It really is hot today!” and “I’m hungry.”
I use it primarily to learn about events - music, art, beer, anything fun and occasionally charitable. If I could get that information without having to read five opinions of a basketball game, I would.
Such updates often serve to remind me that I’m not missing much in the real world. But hey, have fun at that late night dance party, guy I used to work with five years ago. I’ll see your pictures in the morning.
Facebook holdouts don’t listen to me when I tell them that I rarely get messaged by old classmates. The holdouts talk about privacy, but don’t want to acknowledge that information about everyone can be found online, somewhere, whether we like it or not.
If you don’t want non-friends to see what you’re up to, it’s easy to quickly learn how to hide one’s ostensibly personal information on Facebook. As an old married man, I don’t care if my parents or bosses see what I’m up to. Even when I was younger and making stupid choices in public, I stayed out of pictures that might embarrass me.
Why are so many thrilled about typing their lunch into this website? Talking about what you ate, seemingly to make others jealous of how much better you’re eating than them, is not charming. It’s like seeing a Food Network program without any explanations or recipes, let alone pretty pictures.
It’s the jealousy angle that fascinates me the most. I don’t get why people think writing, “On the beach in Hawaii. Sooo beautiful!” is helping anyone. The rest of us just hate you for having something that we all want.
I post pictures of trips online, though I worry a little about alienating others. There’s a big difference, though, between seeing a beautiful sunset – or a double rainbow – and merely reading about one. Same with that huge burrito you had for lunch. If it’s so special, why don’t you take a picture of it? The kids on the playground tell me that it’ll last longer.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Column #17: The road to being a writer has twists and turns
"If you don't mind me asking, how did you become a writer?"
The young lady asking this was a friend of a friend.
She had asked if I minded her question, which usually doesn't happen unless the question seems like a rude one. (For example: "Hey, if you don't mind me asking, what happened to your face?")
The way she asked it was odd, as if being a writer were some weirdly obscure profession that polite people don't talk about. Replace the word "writer" with "executioner" or "prostitute," and you might get a sense of her tone.
However, being a writer is far from an obscurity. I would guess that there are many multiples of millions of people who are writers, or like to consider themselves to be writers.
I considered myself a writer, and would tell people that I was, long before I was ever paid or otherwise recognized for accomplishing such a task.
When I was 14, I tried to write a TV script for the first time. I didn't think it would get produced, but at that time I didn't have many friends, and my ability to play baseball competitively had ended as others grew larger and stronger than me.
If anything benefits a writer, it's having lots of free time and no other more useful abilities.
My favorite TV series at the time was Moonlighting, an inventively comedic detective-romance show. I got 30 pages into my script before I gave up. There are a few reasons why high school freshman don't write for major Hollywood productions. I wish I had kept that script, though. I'm sure it would be fascinating to look at today.
At 22, I moved to Hollywood (or, more precisely, Santa Monica). I didn't know where to go to be a writer, or to whom to give my writings when I was done. I hadn't thought that I had a foolproof plan. I just didn't know what else to do.
A listing in the LA Weekly caught my attention. There was a comedy show happening near my apartment, featuring a comedian I had seen on TV, which is where famous people live!
The show was free. The venue was called Connections or Crossroads and was in a small storefront run by an aging Venice hippie. (It closed months later, because free shows don't help pay the rent.) It - clearly - was not a comedy club. It was more like a workshop for the many free spirits who would perform, for free, in the hopes of being spotted by an agent.
Amateurs were allowed to get up and try to be funny, too. Months later, I, hoping that one five-minute spot would get me hired on The Simpsons, decided to try. Three years later, my writing abilities had improved, though I had learned that I am not a good performer.
I met a girl, Tannis, who also wanted to write for TV. We wrote three scripts, all of which went nowhere. The years were going by, and my personal life was as big a failure as my professional life - good material for writing, but bad for living.
Before L.A., I had spent a year in Louisville, attending the University of I-Can't-Find-a-Parking-Spot-Within-Three-Miles-of-Campus, and I had loved the relatively small scale and pace of the city. A month after I returned, I met a guy in a bar.
A mutual friend told him that I was a writer, and that I knew a lot about music. As a Louisvillian, surely you have recognized that the man I met that night was Jeffrey Lee Puckett, the mayor of Germantown and the pop music guy at our newspaper.
So, that's one way to become a writer.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
The young lady asking this was a friend of a friend.
She had asked if I minded her question, which usually doesn't happen unless the question seems like a rude one. (For example: "Hey, if you don't mind me asking, what happened to your face?")
The way she asked it was odd, as if being a writer were some weirdly obscure profession that polite people don't talk about. Replace the word "writer" with "executioner" or "prostitute," and you might get a sense of her tone.
However, being a writer is far from an obscurity. I would guess that there are many multiples of millions of people who are writers, or like to consider themselves to be writers.
I considered myself a writer, and would tell people that I was, long before I was ever paid or otherwise recognized for accomplishing such a task.
When I was 14, I tried to write a TV script for the first time. I didn't think it would get produced, but at that time I didn't have many friends, and my ability to play baseball competitively had ended as others grew larger and stronger than me.
If anything benefits a writer, it's having lots of free time and no other more useful abilities.
My favorite TV series at the time was Moonlighting, an inventively comedic detective-romance show. I got 30 pages into my script before I gave up. There are a few reasons why high school freshman don't write for major Hollywood productions. I wish I had kept that script, though. I'm sure it would be fascinating to look at today.
At 22, I moved to Hollywood (or, more precisely, Santa Monica). I didn't know where to go to be a writer, or to whom to give my writings when I was done. I hadn't thought that I had a foolproof plan. I just didn't know what else to do.
A listing in the LA Weekly caught my attention. There was a comedy show happening near my apartment, featuring a comedian I had seen on TV, which is where famous people live!
The show was free. The venue was called Connections or Crossroads and was in a small storefront run by an aging Venice hippie. (It closed months later, because free shows don't help pay the rent.) It - clearly - was not a comedy club. It was more like a workshop for the many free spirits who would perform, for free, in the hopes of being spotted by an agent.
Amateurs were allowed to get up and try to be funny, too. Months later, I, hoping that one five-minute spot would get me hired on The Simpsons, decided to try. Three years later, my writing abilities had improved, though I had learned that I am not a good performer.
I met a girl, Tannis, who also wanted to write for TV. We wrote three scripts, all of which went nowhere. The years were going by, and my personal life was as big a failure as my professional life - good material for writing, but bad for living.
Before L.A., I had spent a year in Louisville, attending the University of I-Can't-Find-a-Parking-Spot-Within-Three-Miles-of-Campus, and I had loved the relatively small scale and pace of the city. A month after I returned, I met a guy in a bar.
A mutual friend told him that I was a writer, and that I knew a lot about music. As a Louisvillian, surely you have recognized that the man I met that night was Jeffrey Lee Puckett, the mayor of Germantown and the pop music guy at our newspaper.
So, that's one way to become a writer.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
Column #16: Offbeat picks for mayor could spice up our future
Though a few, bittersweet "Tyler Allen for Mayor" signs remain on lawns across the Highlands, our mayoral primary is over.
Last month, Louisville went back to the polls and voted for the next affluent white man whom we wouldn't mind being mayor more than the other guy.
Though we knew it was coming, it was still a shock when neither our incumbent mayor-for-life nor musician/entrepreneur Scott Ritcher was on the bill.
When Jerry Abramson was first elected mayor, the year was 1813. Now it's 2010, and, like it or not, we're in for some changes. (Don't worry, though -- public radio will continue to play old 10,000 Maniacs and Waterboys discs way too often).
This is an exciting time for Louisville, but one fraught with uncertainty. Will we continue to progress into the future, making great strides with technology, healthy food and "green" living? Or will we continue to dwell on the same issues, causes and excuses that we used in the last century?
I'm not a political genius, and I lack fundamental insight into what it takes to run the 16th- (aka 64th-) largest city in the country. What's great about this country, though, is that I can freely share my ideas about who might make a good future mayor for this city. Most aren't even rich.
Harold Maier would be my first choice. The heart and soul behind the late Twice Told Bookstore is a bold, surprising thinker, as anyone who lingered in the aisles of his shop could testify. While his politics may be a tad to the left of the mainstream, I think "Possibility City" is ready for some surprises.
I doubt that there's any reasonable universe in which his former shop assistant, artist Sean "Rat" Garrison, could run this town. However, if Garrison promised a reunion of his early '90s band, Kinghorse, for everyone who voted for him, I think he could easily win, becoming our Jesse Ventura. There's little this town loves more than nostalgia.
Rob Pennington is another singer/screamer from the good ol' days. Many Louisvillians were raised following his lead -- helping and respecting others and living a thoughtful, responsible life, examples he continues to live by. Pennington is a natural for greater public service. It's a great shame that few of the 1,500 folks excited to see his band Endpoint perform again are as interested in his current work, teaching children with special needs.
There are probably a few folks involved in the sporting world who are good leaders. As a non-sports person, the only one famous enough for me to know about is Coach Rick Pitino. I like Italian food, too, so I know why he probably won't run.
Summer Auerbach, vice president of Rainbow Blossom Natural Food Markets, achieved success at a young age. She has proven that she can run a multifaceted, growing, progressive business. She has been a civic leader and booster, seen often in newspapers and at neighborhood festivals. Best, she is scandal-free, an important quality for a mayor.
A sure bet for the office would have to be James Olliges Jr. You probably know him better by his stage name, Jim James. The leader of My Morning Jacket is evidence that Louisville has more to offer than a two-minute horse race and KFC, and he's a proven uniter of people from different worlds. Who else could so easily share a stage with both John Prine and Erykah Badu?
J.K. McKnight, founder of the Forecastle Festival, is another uniter. Though this paper has had fun pointing out his festival's growing pains through the years, this year's Forecastle promises to be the best yet. What McKnight has accomplished -- taking a neighborhood party in Tyler Park and guiding it into a major regional event - cannot be denied. Has Widespread Panic ever played an inauguration party?
Gill Holland, owner of The Green Building, already wants to make our neighborhoods greener and more artsy. Plus, he has something none of those other non-candidates has: He's not from here. Maybe that's something we need. Also, he's an affluent white man. I hear they do well in politics.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Last month, Louisville went back to the polls and voted for the next affluent white man whom we wouldn't mind being mayor more than the other guy.
Though we knew it was coming, it was still a shock when neither our incumbent mayor-for-life nor musician/entrepreneur Scott Ritcher was on the bill.
When Jerry Abramson was first elected mayor, the year was 1813. Now it's 2010, and, like it or not, we're in for some changes. (Don't worry, though -- public radio will continue to play old 10,000 Maniacs and Waterboys discs way too often).
This is an exciting time for Louisville, but one fraught with uncertainty. Will we continue to progress into the future, making great strides with technology, healthy food and "green" living? Or will we continue to dwell on the same issues, causes and excuses that we used in the last century?
I'm not a political genius, and I lack fundamental insight into what it takes to run the 16th- (aka 64th-) largest city in the country. What's great about this country, though, is that I can freely share my ideas about who might make a good future mayor for this city. Most aren't even rich.
Harold Maier would be my first choice. The heart and soul behind the late Twice Told Bookstore is a bold, surprising thinker, as anyone who lingered in the aisles of his shop could testify. While his politics may be a tad to the left of the mainstream, I think "Possibility City" is ready for some surprises.
I doubt that there's any reasonable universe in which his former shop assistant, artist Sean "Rat" Garrison, could run this town. However, if Garrison promised a reunion of his early '90s band, Kinghorse, for everyone who voted for him, I think he could easily win, becoming our Jesse Ventura. There's little this town loves more than nostalgia.
Rob Pennington is another singer/screamer from the good ol' days. Many Louisvillians were raised following his lead -- helping and respecting others and living a thoughtful, responsible life, examples he continues to live by. Pennington is a natural for greater public service. It's a great shame that few of the 1,500 folks excited to see his band Endpoint perform again are as interested in his current work, teaching children with special needs.
There are probably a few folks involved in the sporting world who are good leaders. As a non-sports person, the only one famous enough for me to know about is Coach Rick Pitino. I like Italian food, too, so I know why he probably won't run.
Summer Auerbach, vice president of Rainbow Blossom Natural Food Markets, achieved success at a young age. She has proven that she can run a multifaceted, growing, progressive business. She has been a civic leader and booster, seen often in newspapers and at neighborhood festivals. Best, she is scandal-free, an important quality for a mayor.
A sure bet for the office would have to be James Olliges Jr. You probably know him better by his stage name, Jim James. The leader of My Morning Jacket is evidence that Louisville has more to offer than a two-minute horse race and KFC, and he's a proven uniter of people from different worlds. Who else could so easily share a stage with both John Prine and Erykah Badu?
J.K. McKnight, founder of the Forecastle Festival, is another uniter. Though this paper has had fun pointing out his festival's growing pains through the years, this year's Forecastle promises to be the best yet. What McKnight has accomplished -- taking a neighborhood party in Tyler Park and guiding it into a major regional event - cannot be denied. Has Widespread Panic ever played an inauguration party?
Gill Holland, owner of The Green Building, already wants to make our neighborhoods greener and more artsy. Plus, he has something none of those other non-candidates has: He's not from here. Maybe that's something we need. Also, he's an affluent white man. I hear they do well in politics.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Jonathan Glen Wood interview
Jonathan Glen Wood is a country/folk/singer-songwriter magician making tentative steps into the Louisville musical jungle. His debut EP, things you find out about the people you love., is available for free listening by clicking here. He'll soon leave for a short East Coast tour with fellow local Johnny Berry.
Where did you grow up?
I grew up in Sissonville, WV, which is about 20 minutes outside the state capitol of Charleston. Once, I bought a copy of a book published by The Onion and a tiny article in the book actually included a bio of a fake soldier from "the rural, impoverished village of Sissonville." They really must have done their homework. It really wasn't a village, but when I was growing up, there was a bar at the mouth of my road called The Village and it was certainly rural and impoverished.
Is your family musical or artistic?
Music and art were never an important part of my family when I was growing up. It was almost taken for granted. The dreams and aspirations of most of the people I knew were to have a family and a job they could retire from. I could never understand why I never shared those goals and felt pretty lost. Creativeness seemed almost equal to daydreaming - it was certainly fun to create, but there was really no future in it and it was shelved. My parents always wanted me to be a dentist. I'm still not really sure why, other than the fact that my mom is obsessed with keeping her teeth clean and white.
What is your musical background / training?
Everything I know about guitar, I learned from my good friend Robin Kessinger. Robin is a renowned old-time flatpick guitar player from close to my neck of the woods, with a musical heritage that's out of this world. It wasn't necessarily the flatpicking aspect that drew me to the guitar. I loved finding new chords and rhythm patterns to play behind fiddlers and lead guitarists. Everyone I knew wanted to be a lead guitar player; I felt like I just wanted to be a strong rhythm player. Robin started taking me around the country on gigs with him to back him up and I learned so much from so many incredible players along the way.
I always dabbled in songwriting on the side, but never really thought about playing much on my own. I liked singing a song or two in sets with the folks I played with. I completely quit playing music for almost two years right before I moved to Louisville, due to lots of job stress. I decided playing and writing made me happy and I needed to strive to do it more often. Louisville has given me a fabulous opportunity to be creative and happy.
Who are your musical favorites/inspirations?
Most of the usual suspects. When I began writing songs, Hank Williams, Norman Blake, Townes Van Zandt and Merle Haggard were probably my biggest influences. I felt so connected to their words and delivery. I still think they were/are the greatest poets that ever lived. I went through a pretty large Gram Parsons phase when I discovered him. My mom was a huge John Prine fan, so I still hold those first few Prine records dear. One music related childhood memory I do have is knowing all the words to "Illegal Smile." I had no idea what an illegal smile was at that point, but I could sing the hell out of it. Over time, I certainly learned what it meant.
I'm interested in so many different things. Can I just list some things that I'm fairly obsessed with? Ginny Hawker and Tracy Schwarz, The Byrds, The Delmore Brothers, The Delta Sisters, Jody Stecher, Tex Ritter, Hamper McBee... the list just goes on and on.
Being new to Louisville, I'm completely inspired by the immense talent that surrounds me. I'm also flattered to call some of my favorite singers and songwriters in the country, friends. Thomas A. Minor and the Picket Line, Elephant Micah, Joe Manning, The Ladybirds, Johnny Berry, Andrew Iafrate, Maiden Radio, Mickey Clark, Young Widows, Nathan Salsburg, Glen Dentinger, Natural Geographic... all continue to reassure me that Louisville has one of the richest music communities in the country.
What bands/projects are you currently involved with? How did you get involved with them?
Usually when I play out, my good friend Andrew Iafrate accompanies me. He's actually from West Virginia as well and I've known him before we both ended up here in Louisville. Our voices and ideas blend well, and playing with him has shaped some new creativity.
I've got a few new things on the horizon that I'm really excited about. I've been writing a lot of songs with Oscar Parsons, of Thomas A. Minor and the Picket Line, for a project we hope to get off the ground sometime soon. Oscar is a kindred hillbilly. We got to talking about where we grew up and our circles started overlapping. We know some of the same folks. We sat down with guitars and three and four songs started happening at a time.
I'm also writing some things with Evan Patterson of Young Widows. Evan and I met last year when I played a show with him and Dan Davis under the moniker Bad Secrets. It was completely improvised and I was terrified. I lived, though, and Evan and I stayed in touch. We've been talking about collaborating for a while and lately we've been working some things out. We're both pretty excited about the sound.
What do you hope to achieve with music?
I just want to keep doing what makes me happy. The only "goal" that I have is to make an album at some point down the road. I don't put time lines on many things, for better or worse. Maybe a few people will like what I'm doing and come out to a show? Oh, I also hope to make enough money to buy a decent ribbon microphone.
Jonathan Glen Wood plays at Sunergos Coffee on Saturday, June 12th, along with Andrew Iafrate and Joan Shelley. The concert begins at 7 p.m. and is free.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
Joan Shelley interview
Joan Shelley is a busy woman starting to make her name in Louisville's ever-fertile music scene. Her first album, By Dawnlight, produced by Danny Kiely and featuring appearances by some of the city's finest session players, is being released, an occasion celebrated by a concert on the Glassworks rooftop, on Friday June 4th, with her friend and collaborator Cheyenne Marie Mize, who is also releasing her first album. She will also perform on Saturday June 12th at Sunergos Coffee.
Where did you grow up?
I grew up in Louisville, or just outside of it really, on a few acres just east of the city. I gained access to Louisville only first through the ever encroaching suburbs in the east end. And that was dull. It was only until after coming back to town about two years ago that I really started to feel that I was from Louisville.
Is your family musical or artistic?
My dad is an artist and a painter. He has been the greatest source of inspiration and confidence in choosing this path. Besides him, I had a very art/music-loving family that raised me. I have one of the most supportive families of anyone doing what I am trying to do.
What is your musical background / training?
I have been singing forever, in whatever form I could. I started writing songs in elementary school. I've walked around singing into a handheld recorder for most of my 24 years. I was in all kinds of school choirs up until college, when I started playing in bars down in Athens, Georgia. I picked up instruments along the way to support my songwriting. I would say that the most intense learning has happened in the past year and a half, in recording this album with Danny Kiely and playing with Maiden Radio and several other great musicians around town.
Who are your musical favorites/inspirations?
I have to say that Gillian Welch and Jolie Holland were the biggest game-changers for me. They turned me on to old-time music and a kind of vocal delivery that has hung in my head like smoke since the day I first heard them. Along with them, I think Bonnie Raitt, Neko Case, J.J. Cale, Betty Davis, Gram Parsons and Townes Van Zandt have been significant influences on me and on how I thought music ought to be done. And Paul Simon can write a song. I’ve always wanted to be able to do it like he does.
What bands/projects are you currently involved with? How did you get involved with them?
I currently have my solo project, Maiden Radio, and a very new thing with Joe Manning. It’s a pretty exciting time. Maiden Radio happened last fall when I met Cheyenne Mize through some mutual musician friends. We were all playing and singing around a campfire when Cheyenne and I realized that we had a really good sound going. She knew another great vocalist and player, Julia Purcell, and we’ve been having a great time playing together ever since. Then I met Joe Manning just a few months ago and started playing with him to see what would happen. It was another easy fit, and, as rare as those can be, we plan to make something good come out of it.
What do you hope to achieve with music?
There's a long answer to this. But for now... I just want to write some good tunes and one day, a really great song that melts everybody's hearts. Is that too much to ask?
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
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
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
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
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
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
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
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
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
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
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Column #14: Your fun and my fun aren't the same
If you like to have fun, you’ve probably bothered me on at least two recent occasions.
I like fun, but I hate your fun. Most of the fun I enjoy includes normal, mainstream, socially acceptable activities, sometimes involving alcohol and/or nudity. I’m certainly not some prim preacher shouting about the declining moral fiber of this nation. Nothing good ever happened without declining morals. I just hate the way that many of you, who aren’t me, have fun.
First, let’s talk about adult beverages. Have you heard the good news? Being an adult means that you can have a drink pretty much any time you want! So, enjoy!
St. Patrick’s Day: I like Irish folks and their culture, but I also like plenty of other cultures, too. Is there a reason why you still, way past college age, get all excited about a day where you tell yourself that it’s cool and awesome to drink beer for 12 hours straight? Isn’t that what Saturdays are for already?
Have you heard about Cinco de Mayo? That’s a great example of another culture I appreciate, those masked wrestlers who speak Spanish and their relatives. You do know that they will be the majority of this country before next Tuesday, yes? If nothing else, the weather is much better in May, and I have fun being outside when it’s not still 38 degrees, like it is in March. Still, I don’t see that overtaking St. Patrick’s Day as our national day of drinking any time soon.
Is it less popular in Louisville because it occurs two days after Derby, and you’re still hung over from drinking overpriced, watered-down Mint Juleps? I’ve been to Derby twice, and I’ve had the worst Mint Juleps of my life there. How many of you really love watching horses race and spend more than two minutes a year doing so? Also, how often do you do it while dressed up like someone who thinks that fashion hasn’t evolved since Gone With the Wind?
Speaking of dressing up like a jerk, why is Halloween still fascinating to people who are older than 8? Last year, I’ll bet that 4 in every 5 big city Americans dressed up like Lady Gaga. If you want to be special and have everyone tell you how original and interesting you are, why not dress up like Lady Gaga on a random night six months before Halloween? At the bar, everyone will talk about you, and I bet you’ll drink for free all night – especially if you’re a dude.
Is it that everyone just wants to follow the crowd, and only be “weird” when no one will actually notice? If I’d had a choice, I would’ve loved to have gone through this life as Weird Al Yankovic.
I like music, movies, TV, art, food and beverages, socializing and a good laugh. Life is to be enjoyed whenever possible. But I can’t think of anything less fun than watching Dancing with the Stars. Seriously, people, why do you hate dance so much? Also, why is watching reality TV stars dancing badly more fascinating than watching them raise children badly?
Also not funny: April Fool’s Day. Tell friends that you’re quitting your job and becoming born again on a day when people aren’t expecting some lame attempt at shock. See if that gets ‘em rolling in the aisles.
My outsider view of fun surely stems from my childhood, where I was raised Jewish and loved playing baseball. It’s hard to enjoy Christmas, Easter and the Super Bowl under those circumstances. I never understood “Good Friday” – isn’t every Friday good?
At the very least, can your fun not inconvenience me? Can I get a good latte on Christmas? Can I drive downtown while you stare at minor league fireworks? Can your college basketball not preempt my TV shows?
Please, think about me next time you want to have fun. You’re probably doing it wrong.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
I like fun, but I hate your fun. Most of the fun I enjoy includes normal, mainstream, socially acceptable activities, sometimes involving alcohol and/or nudity. I’m certainly not some prim preacher shouting about the declining moral fiber of this nation. Nothing good ever happened without declining morals. I just hate the way that many of you, who aren’t me, have fun.
First, let’s talk about adult beverages. Have you heard the good news? Being an adult means that you can have a drink pretty much any time you want! So, enjoy!
St. Patrick’s Day: I like Irish folks and their culture, but I also like plenty of other cultures, too. Is there a reason why you still, way past college age, get all excited about a day where you tell yourself that it’s cool and awesome to drink beer for 12 hours straight? Isn’t that what Saturdays are for already?
Have you heard about Cinco de Mayo? That’s a great example of another culture I appreciate, those masked wrestlers who speak Spanish and their relatives. You do know that they will be the majority of this country before next Tuesday, yes? If nothing else, the weather is much better in May, and I have fun being outside when it’s not still 38 degrees, like it is in March. Still, I don’t see that overtaking St. Patrick’s Day as our national day of drinking any time soon.
Is it less popular in Louisville because it occurs two days after Derby, and you’re still hung over from drinking overpriced, watered-down Mint Juleps? I’ve been to Derby twice, and I’ve had the worst Mint Juleps of my life there. How many of you really love watching horses race and spend more than two minutes a year doing so? Also, how often do you do it while dressed up like someone who thinks that fashion hasn’t evolved since Gone With the Wind?
Speaking of dressing up like a jerk, why is Halloween still fascinating to people who are older than 8? Last year, I’ll bet that 4 in every 5 big city Americans dressed up like Lady Gaga. If you want to be special and have everyone tell you how original and interesting you are, why not dress up like Lady Gaga on a random night six months before Halloween? At the bar, everyone will talk about you, and I bet you’ll drink for free all night – especially if you’re a dude.
Is it that everyone just wants to follow the crowd, and only be “weird” when no one will actually notice? If I’d had a choice, I would’ve loved to have gone through this life as Weird Al Yankovic.
I like music, movies, TV, art, food and beverages, socializing and a good laugh. Life is to be enjoyed whenever possible. But I can’t think of anything less fun than watching Dancing with the Stars. Seriously, people, why do you hate dance so much? Also, why is watching reality TV stars dancing badly more fascinating than watching them raise children badly?
Also not funny: April Fool’s Day. Tell friends that you’re quitting your job and becoming born again on a day when people aren’t expecting some lame attempt at shock. See if that gets ‘em rolling in the aisles.
My outsider view of fun surely stems from my childhood, where I was raised Jewish and loved playing baseball. It’s hard to enjoy Christmas, Easter and the Super Bowl under those circumstances. I never understood “Good Friday” – isn’t every Friday good?
At the very least, can your fun not inconvenience me? Can I get a good latte on Christmas? Can I drive downtown while you stare at minor league fireworks? Can your college basketball not preempt my TV shows?
Please, think about me next time you want to have fun. You’re probably doing it wrong.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Glasspack interview
Dirty Dave Johnson is a leader of Louisville's hard 'n' heavy music scene, and a busy guy. His band, The Glasspack, is currently planning live shows for this summer. Noise Pollution Records will soon release a split 7" with The Glasspack and Trophy Wives. Also, Johnson will be selling artwork and merchandise at the second annual South By South End Festival on April 22nd - 24th.
Where did you grow up? Is your family musical or artistic?
I was born in Louisville at St. Anthony's hospital, which was pretty much in the Highlands. I spent a couple early childhood years in West Virginia. I lived in the Appalachian Mountains, where my oldest sister was born. As a small child, I rode around in my dad's muscle car, watched 70's pro-wrestling and sported long hair. I grew up drawing Popeye and Woody Woodpecker cartoons and acting like a clown. My first encounters with music were my dad's old CCR records, among others. I grew up in Okolona and Iroquois, which is basically the south side and south end of Louisville as they were in the '80s. I spent a lot of time in Iroquois Park, where I still do to this day. Creativity was limited in my family but still apparent. My grandfather could draw very well, and my oldest sister can play all sorts of instruments much better than me. Other than that, I am unaware of any other creativity in my family, except that my mom was a master at the sewing machine. I would draw stencils for her. She passed away when I was about 20 years old.
What is your musical background / training?
No formal training here, my friend. I tried flute in the 3rd or 4th grade at school and gave it up a week or two later. My dad bought me a right-handed guitar when I was 13 because he couldn't afford the left-handed one. That is social tyranny at its best. I learned how to play guitar because I was grounded all the time. I sat in my room and read Guitar Player Magazine or Guitar World Magazine. I cannot remember which one it was, but those magazines have what is called music tabs underneath the actual sheet music. I would try and play those tabs along with the songs on my jam box. The tabs are sort of the cheap way around learning to read music so that you can still learn to play other people's songs while listening. I was quite annoyed with the material available in those magazines at the time. All they had in them was Whitesnake and Motley Crue. By that time, I had realized quite fast what kind of garbage '80's glam hair metal was. I liked Van Halen and AC/DC, which would pop up in the magazines sometimes, and occasionally there would be a Hendrix tune or an R.E.M. song. Other than that, I learned to play a lot of songs from hoodlum friends, mostly Metallica. Since my friends needed a bassist, I got a bass at age 15. I learned mostly to play bass by playing old Metallica. I can still play some of "Orion" from Master of Puppets. Soon after this period, I found Black Sabbath and punk rock. This is really when I started to learn the most about playing guitar and bass.
Who are your musical favorites/inspirations?
There is no question that probably the greatest influence on me and my music has been Black Sabbath. There would be nothing good without Black Sabbath. The first Black Sabbath album, Black Sabbath, is all that any rock album could hope to be. As a small child, as I already mentioned, my dad's CCR records wound me up. Into my early teen-age years, I fell in love with the music of Jimi Hendrix. Hendrix is still grand to me as well. After that, I found punk rock. Local bands I listened to and saw were Kinghorse, Bush League, and Cinderblock. The Cinderblock guys were all my buddies, I still love them all. The Dead Kennedys had a big impact on me, as well as a lot of the Seattle music such as Soundgarden and Mudhoney. As I got into my 20s though, I really picked up on the MC5 and The Stooges. Then I really started digging on some Captain Beefheart and His Magical Band.
What bands/projects are you currently involved with? How did you get involved with them?
Currently, I am doing stuff with The Glasspack full-time and occasionally Muddy Nasty River. The Glasspack, as most people around here know, has been me and various friends and/or local musicians over the years. I write most of the music, sing, and play guitar. The Glasspack started in 1999, but we are just now getting around to celebrating 10 years this year!
Muddy Nasty River is a part-time band, but I hope that it can exist in full-time mode soon. I started Muddy Nasty River with my childhood friend Mark Campbell. I also write the songs, sing, and play guitar in this garage/blues act. We both go to the University of Louisville, so our time is very limited. I am about to have a bachelor's degree in philosophy and Mark is a doctoral student in biology. I am also planning to attend law school or grad school immediately. We musicians are busy people.
What do you hope to achieve with music?
I can't say that I ever really thought about or sought out achieving anything by playing music except to express and please myself, as well as those who are involved. I do, however, hope that the music will relieve some of us from the stress of this fast capitalistic society. We were not put here to work and work and work so that 5% of the population can control 50% of the wealth. It's b------t, but if we can't change the system in our short time here, we can party and forget about it for at least a little bit. I hope The Glasspack is the soundtrack to that party.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Tuesday, April 06, 2010
Column #13: 3-D movies are less than impressive
I have not seen Avatar yet.
I probably won’t see it. How is it possible that someone who loves movies could not have seen the legendarily most popular movie ever made? Surely it must be great, or at least necessary to have been seen in order for me to leave the house and fully engage with other humans, yes?
No. I think I will be alright. It took me eight months to see Titanic, then showing in a rundown discount theater where the tickets were only $2. Honestly, I was more interested in Kate Winslet’s nude scene than any potentially incisive writing or souful acting. Even that was when she was getting naked in movies annually – I had already seen her talents on display, so there was no Julie Andrews-in-S.O.B. thrill promised within.
I haven’t seen Avatar yet because I feel secure guessing that the good guys will win, and that the guy will get the girl in the end. If the blue guy played by that Australian guy that I’ve never heard of (and don’t remember inviting to be my next movie star) doesn’t get her this time, then I’m sure he will by the end of the second squeakuel.
Many of the most interesting movies have sad, or at least complicated, endings, from Casablanca and Citizen Kane to The Graduate and The Godfather, through the recent Spider-Man, and, inevitably, even Titanic. Does Avatar?
The recent tsunami of hype about this new discovery of 3-D filmmaking technology is stunning to me. At 35, I am old enough to have seen a couple of generations of movie evolution, from the highs of classic John Hughes to the lows of anything Kevin Smith, from the peaks of the two Coreys to the depressing rise of the Twilight twinks.
I feel blessed to have grown up in a golden moment of kids’ adventure movies. I don’t see much today as fun and inspiring as The Goonies, Gremlins, The Last Starfighter, Starman, War Games, or D.A.R.Y.L., let alone full of the relative emotional complexity of Stand By Me or The Sure Thing.
I also am an overall student – nay, a worshipper - of movies, especially the classic periods of the screwball ‘30s, the foreign imports of the post-WWII era, the hippie rebel breakthroughs of Altman, Ashby, Cassevetes and company, and the independent wave of the early ‘90s.
All this is, in part, a run-up to me saying that I have been aware of 3-D for many, many years now. You know who else has been aware of this technological reality? Everybody else!
The movie industry is telling us these days that, after a decade plus of their declining revenues, we should all be excited to return to their theaters.
We should be excited to see big movies on the big screen instead of at home, on the DVDs they wanted us to buy after we’d bought all the VHS copies of the same titles, or on our computers.
I wasn’t around in the mid-1950’s, but I bet a similar argument was raised at that time. “Turn off your television! Put down that comic book! We’ve got It Came from Outer Space – in mind-boggling 3-D!”
I’ve seen 3-D movies several times. It’s never been impressive to me, with the clunky glasses and limp effects. I’ve never been scared that the beast is actually going to get me.
I did see Alice in Wonderland. I wanted to because the team of Tim Burton & Johnny Depp has made a handful of fun, wonderful movies together. I expect them to offer dazzling visuals, surprising performances and - something I never expect from James Cameron - humor and joy. They pleased me yet again, though the 3-D did little to enhance my experience.
Ultimately, it doesn’t matter how big or loud the movie is. I just want a good story, and to be moved to laugh, cry or cheer. Nude scene included when artistically necessary, of course.
I probably won’t see it. How is it possible that someone who loves movies could not have seen the legendarily most popular movie ever made? Surely it must be great, or at least necessary to have been seen in order for me to leave the house and fully engage with other humans, yes?
No. I think I will be alright. It took me eight months to see Titanic, then showing in a rundown discount theater where the tickets were only $2. Honestly, I was more interested in Kate Winslet’s nude scene than any potentially incisive writing or souful acting. Even that was when she was getting naked in movies annually – I had already seen her talents on display, so there was no Julie Andrews-in-S.O.B. thrill promised within.
I haven’t seen Avatar yet because I feel secure guessing that the good guys will win, and that the guy will get the girl in the end. If the blue guy played by that Australian guy that I’ve never heard of (and don’t remember inviting to be my next movie star) doesn’t get her this time, then I’m sure he will by the end of the second squeakuel.
Many of the most interesting movies have sad, or at least complicated, endings, from Casablanca and Citizen Kane to The Graduate and The Godfather, through the recent Spider-Man, and, inevitably, even Titanic. Does Avatar?
The recent tsunami of hype about this new discovery of 3-D filmmaking technology is stunning to me. At 35, I am old enough to have seen a couple of generations of movie evolution, from the highs of classic John Hughes to the lows of anything Kevin Smith, from the peaks of the two Coreys to the depressing rise of the Twilight twinks.
I feel blessed to have grown up in a golden moment of kids’ adventure movies. I don’t see much today as fun and inspiring as The Goonies, Gremlins, The Last Starfighter, Starman, War Games, or D.A.R.Y.L., let alone full of the relative emotional complexity of Stand By Me or The Sure Thing.
I also am an overall student – nay, a worshipper - of movies, especially the classic periods of the screwball ‘30s, the foreign imports of the post-WWII era, the hippie rebel breakthroughs of Altman, Ashby, Cassevetes and company, and the independent wave of the early ‘90s.
All this is, in part, a run-up to me saying that I have been aware of 3-D for many, many years now. You know who else has been aware of this technological reality? Everybody else!
The movie industry is telling us these days that, after a decade plus of their declining revenues, we should all be excited to return to their theaters.
We should be excited to see big movies on the big screen instead of at home, on the DVDs they wanted us to buy after we’d bought all the VHS copies of the same titles, or on our computers.
I wasn’t around in the mid-1950’s, but I bet a similar argument was raised at that time. “Turn off your television! Put down that comic book! We’ve got It Came from Outer Space – in mind-boggling 3-D!”
I’ve seen 3-D movies several times. It’s never been impressive to me, with the clunky glasses and limp effects. I’ve never been scared that the beast is actually going to get me.
I did see Alice in Wonderland. I wanted to because the team of Tim Burton & Johnny Depp has made a handful of fun, wonderful movies together. I expect them to offer dazzling visuals, surprising performances and - something I never expect from James Cameron - humor and joy. They pleased me yet again, though the 3-D did little to enhance my experience.
Ultimately, it doesn’t matter how big or loud the movie is. I just want a good story, and to be moved to laugh, cry or cheer. Nude scene included when artistically necessary, of course.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Elephant Micah profile: Music His Way
People are gushing about Elephant Micah's distinctive folk sound
"He's a genius. I'm glad you're writing about him," said Nathan Salsburg, a self-professed "superfan" of Elephant Micah.
The Louisville record producer and archivist is super happy to describe Elephant Micah's songs:
"They endure in the way Napoleon's dying breath endures, like gaseous dispersion in the atmosphere," he gushed. "They are a reverberation of the first divine exhalation."
He's describing the homemade folk songs of Joe O'Connell, a Kentuckiana native who prefers to emphasize his music over much biographical analysis.
After eight years and even more recordings, O'Connell is getting more and more people to hear his music, on his terms.
O'Connell, who has built up a core group of collaborators between here and Bloomington, distributes music through the Luddite Rural Recording Cooperative.
As Elephant Micah, he records much of his music on cassettes and never set up a MySpace profile, though he makes some music available for download on his website and generally encourages the Internet to help promote him.
It almost sounds calculated, but as he told the blog You Crazy Dreamers, "I just really can't stand the word 'MySpace'."
Salsburg recently invited O'Connell to contribute vocals to a recording session with singer Glen Dentinger.
"He had the headphones on, doing his harmony vocal on Glen's track - only he could hear the master but I started cringing, because I thought there was no way his weird procession of notes could possibly line up with Glen's singing or the band's playing," Salsburg said. "Then we listened to the playback and it was brilliant. No one else would have though to do what he did."
O’Connell’s music also drew praise from the noted Howard Wolfson, who, when he isn't trying to get people like Hillary Clinton elected, runs the music blog, Gotham Acme. Wolfson named Elephant Micah’s 2008 album Exiled Magicians as one of his favorites of the year.
“He’s just a guy with a guitar, making music that could tear your heart out," Wolfson wrote. "Tell your friends how wonderful he is.”
O’Connell is returning to Louisville to promote his latest album, Echoer's Intent. The self-booked tour will take him through 20 states in two months. He'll play a show Friday (along with with Joe Manning, Time & Temperature and the aforementioned Salsburg) at the Lounge.
“Louisville is where I first started trying to play gigs, when I was 17 or 18," O'Connell said. "It is definitely one of the places I feel most musically ‘rooted’ in, and that sense has been renewed recently.
"It's particularly cool to reconnect with a lot of the people who were around ten years ago, in what was for me the very early stages of this music.”
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
"He's a genius. I'm glad you're writing about him," said Nathan Salsburg, a self-professed "superfan" of Elephant Micah.
The Louisville record producer and archivist is super happy to describe Elephant Micah's songs:
"They endure in the way Napoleon's dying breath endures, like gaseous dispersion in the atmosphere," he gushed. "They are a reverberation of the first divine exhalation."
He's describing the homemade folk songs of Joe O'Connell, a Kentuckiana native who prefers to emphasize his music over much biographical analysis.
After eight years and even more recordings, O'Connell is getting more and more people to hear his music, on his terms.
O'Connell, who has built up a core group of collaborators between here and Bloomington, distributes music through the Luddite Rural Recording Cooperative.
As Elephant Micah, he records much of his music on cassettes and never set up a MySpace profile, though he makes some music available for download on his website and generally encourages the Internet to help promote him.
It almost sounds calculated, but as he told the blog You Crazy Dreamers, "I just really can't stand the word 'MySpace'."
Salsburg recently invited O'Connell to contribute vocals to a recording session with singer Glen Dentinger.
"He had the headphones on, doing his harmony vocal on Glen's track - only he could hear the master but I started cringing, because I thought there was no way his weird procession of notes could possibly line up with Glen's singing or the band's playing," Salsburg said. "Then we listened to the playback and it was brilliant. No one else would have though to do what he did."
O’Connell’s music also drew praise from the noted Howard Wolfson, who, when he isn't trying to get people like Hillary Clinton elected, runs the music blog, Gotham Acme. Wolfson named Elephant Micah’s 2008 album Exiled Magicians as one of his favorites of the year.
“He’s just a guy with a guitar, making music that could tear your heart out," Wolfson wrote. "Tell your friends how wonderful he is.”
O’Connell is returning to Louisville to promote his latest album, Echoer's Intent. The self-booked tour will take him through 20 states in two months. He'll play a show Friday (along with with Joe Manning, Time & Temperature and the aforementioned Salsburg) at the Lounge.
“Louisville is where I first started trying to play gigs, when I was 17 or 18," O'Connell said. "It is definitely one of the places I feel most musically ‘rooted’ in, and that sense has been renewed recently.
"It's particularly cool to reconnect with a lot of the people who were around ten years ago, in what was for me the very early stages of this music.”
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Column #12: Saturday morning TV is special
While reading the recent oral history of The Simpsons, I came across a statement describing one of the people who got the series on the air, the very successful TV and movie writer/producer/director James L. Brooks. It was said that if Brooks was awakened at 3 a.m. and asked what he did, his half-aware response would be an immediate, "I'm a writer."
There was once a time when I wanted a career like that of Brooks, working of some of the most beloved TV of the day and directing my movie scripts into award-winning hits. However, if you woke me up at 3 in the morning and asked what I did, I'd probably offer, "Uh... well, I love my wife. And our cats. Oh, and doughnuts. And I love TV. Oh, and I should probably mention my parents — are you going to tell them that I listed them after doughnuts?"
Sure, I write some stuff. It's satisfying, up to a point, but it's a fairly isolating and dry task.
On the weekends, I jump out of bed as soon as possible. Am I ready to go jogging, hiking or volunteering in a soup kitchen? No, silly, that's you. I'm up because I'm excited to watch my TV.
Saturday mornings are even more exciting than Sundays, and not just because the weekend is newer, fresher and more filled with promise. No, Saturday mornings are even better because my three favorite Christian children's shows are on.
I don't watch them for religion. I do, of course, swear allegiance to The Shield, The Wire and The Sopranos, as TV standard-bearers. And before I continue, I should specify that I don't smoke drugs.
I don't like all Christian children's programming. It's a mostly dull and uninventive form, and the special ones have to really work to stand out. I've
already learned my lessons about sharing, patience and other junk you don't need as an adult, but I still love colorful puppets and bad puns. Anyone who loves H.R. Pufnstuf and claims to be hip needs to drop their skinny-pants pretensions and check out shows like the following:
Dooley and Pals is a favorite. The program
follows the adventures of Dooley, a space alien who has landed in some American kid's yard and is prone to Ned Flanders-esque exclamations. Each week Dooley, a robot and a postal carrier (suspiciously reminiscent of S.Epatha Merkerson
on Pee-Wee's Playhouse) teach the kids lessons about life.
There's also a pair of aliens who act like a less-cynical version of The Muppet Show's Statler and Waldorf, plus odd animation and weird songs.
Wimzie's House is another fun one, featuring a sweet little girl who's supposed to be a dragon (or something) but looks like a puppet version of Punky Brewster. Altogether, the gang looks like Fraggle Rock rejects, which is endearing and probably explains why the Jim Henson Company sued them at one point.
My favorite character is Horace, the dumbest one and the one most likely to throw an angry fit. He's certainly more interesting than anyone on Grey's Anatomy.
Then there's Mustard Pancakes. Is that a name for a show or what? It sounds creative enough to be a Frank Zappa album, right? I shouldn't like this program as much, though, because there's a human starring in it. Lame!
No less, she's a middle-aged folk singer and seems Canadian. She's also a total rip-off of Nanny from Muppet Babies, but you have to see her face. Its characters are three dogs and a cat who live with this delusional single lady. One dog in particular, with the delightful name of
Oogleberry, instantly stole my heart with his sad eyes and eagerness to please.
My wife doesn't totally understand my fascination with these programs, but I don't
totally understand why she watches The Real Housewives of Orange County.
Maybe you shouldn't listen to me. My favorite movie genre is the "animal who talks, raps and/or plays sports" genre. I just like what I like.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
There was once a time when I wanted a career like that of Brooks, working of some of the most beloved TV of the day and directing my movie scripts into award-winning hits. However, if you woke me up at 3 in the morning and asked what I did, I'd probably offer, "Uh... well, I love my wife. And our cats. Oh, and doughnuts. And I love TV. Oh, and I should probably mention my parents — are you going to tell them that I listed them after doughnuts?"
Sure, I write some stuff. It's satisfying, up to a point, but it's a fairly isolating and dry task.
On the weekends, I jump out of bed as soon as possible. Am I ready to go jogging, hiking or volunteering in a soup kitchen? No, silly, that's you. I'm up because I'm excited to watch my TV.
Saturday mornings are even more exciting than Sundays, and not just because the weekend is newer, fresher and more filled with promise. No, Saturday mornings are even better because my three favorite Christian children's shows are on.
I don't watch them for religion. I do, of course, swear allegiance to The Shield, The Wire and The Sopranos, as TV standard-bearers. And before I continue, I should specify that I don't smoke drugs.
I don't like all Christian children's programming. It's a mostly dull and uninventive form, and the special ones have to really work to stand out. I've
already learned my lessons about sharing, patience and other junk you don't need as an adult, but I still love colorful puppets and bad puns. Anyone who loves H.R. Pufnstuf and claims to be hip needs to drop their skinny-pants pretensions and check out shows like the following:
Dooley and Pals is a favorite. The program
follows the adventures of Dooley, a space alien who has landed in some American kid's yard and is prone to Ned Flanders-esque exclamations. Each week Dooley, a robot and a postal carrier (suspiciously reminiscent of S.Epatha Merkerson
on Pee-Wee's Playhouse) teach the kids lessons about life.
There's also a pair of aliens who act like a less-cynical version of The Muppet Show's Statler and Waldorf, plus odd animation and weird songs.
Wimzie's House is another fun one, featuring a sweet little girl who's supposed to be a dragon (or something) but looks like a puppet version of Punky Brewster. Altogether, the gang looks like Fraggle Rock rejects, which is endearing and probably explains why the Jim Henson Company sued them at one point.
My favorite character is Horace, the dumbest one and the one most likely to throw an angry fit. He's certainly more interesting than anyone on Grey's Anatomy.
Then there's Mustard Pancakes. Is that a name for a show or what? It sounds creative enough to be a Frank Zappa album, right? I shouldn't like this program as much, though, because there's a human starring in it. Lame!
No less, she's a middle-aged folk singer and seems Canadian. She's also a total rip-off of Nanny from Muppet Babies, but you have to see her face. Its characters are three dogs and a cat who live with this delusional single lady. One dog in particular, with the delightful name of
Oogleberry, instantly stole my heart with his sad eyes and eagerness to please.
My wife doesn't totally understand my fascination with these programs, but I don't
totally understand why she watches The Real Housewives of Orange County.
Maybe you shouldn't listen to me. My favorite movie genre is the "animal who talks, raps and/or plays sports" genre. I just like what I like.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
Lyle Janes profile
Fans of public access television have been enjoying “The Lyle Janes Show” for 11 years now, surely a local feat if not quite as nationally notable as the adventures of Jay Leno and friends. Janes, however, does things differently than most talk-show hosts. You might even say that he does it… his way.
“I've always liked to sing. I grew up listening to big band and easy listening music, like Frank Sinatra and Mantovani. I also had asthma, though, so I could never do it a lot.”
Janes also grew up as a Jehovah's Witness, an unlikely beginning for a fabulous entertainer. “Oh, no, no, no!” Janes exclaimed. “I'm actually writing a book about that.”
As Janes grew into adulthood, he realized that he preferred the cult of show business, inspired by “The Merv Griffin Show.” Becoming a host and entertainer like Griffin became his dream. While Insight-98 might not be NBC, Janes fulfills his dream, every Wednesday night at 9:30, and there is no Conan O'Brien waiting in the wings to force him out.
Janes, a native of Louisville's Highview neighborhood and today a commissioner of the city of Parkway Village, can also be seen often at the Improv at Fourth Street Live, where his comedy act touches upon his Jehovah's Witness youth and what he calls “disasters and beauty school accidents.” (He recently began working as a hairdresser at Sensations Spa & Salon.)
A fan of singers Michael Buble and Harry Connick Jr., Janes went into a recording studio to make a demo. He printed 500 copies of Introducing Lyle Janes. His cover of “Mack the Knife” is probably the first to include a shout-out to Louisville. “I've been giving them out as Christmas presents. Or I use them as coasters,” said Janes, laughing, although they are also available at Ear X-tacy.
Even if he never becomes as famous as Merv Griffin, Janes has a wonderful way of seeing the world. “I've always ended my show on an upbeat note, every time. I always say that it's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.”
photo by John Rott
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Nora, Ben & Eli profile
In Louisville today, it's not hard to find bearded hipsters playing their interpretation of Appalachian mountain music while sipping craft beers and mumbling about moving to New York some day. Few, however, have the training and skill of a trio of pluckers who only recently earned their license to drive.
Nora, Ben & Eli are a group that never would have happened without early arts education. A decade ago, they were fortunate enough to join the Louisville Leopard Percussionists, the nonprofit program for elementary school kids where they learned how to play instruments, improvise and work together.
Nora Grossman, Ben Scruton and Eli Kleinsmith, all of whom play multiple instruments, were originally part of a post-Leopards group whose members fell away until only the three were left. The well-educated group evolved into a string trio exploring Appalachian, Irish and Eastern European folk music.
“Somehow, we all figured out that we all liked this kind of music,” said Kleinsmith, a 17-year-old senior at St. Francis. “I think it was because Ben and Nora had been going to the Hindman Settlement School. I started going to that, and we explored Appalachian music from there.”
At the school in Knott County, the group found mentors who helped influence their direction. “There are just so many nice people who are good musicians, too, and that's how we got the Appalachian style,” elaborated Scruton, 17, a senior at duPont Manual.
“One of the most important things we can do is to get people our age into this kind of music. Most are not aware that it exists,” said Grossman, a 16-year-old junior at duPont Manual.
They're still influenced by jazz, too. Scruton said, “Nora and I grew up listening to that style of music, from the Leopards, so we've got that in our minds. It translated to the other instruments, but we're not — we don't sound like Miles Davis or anything.”
Leopards founder Diane Downs is proud. “It's been great to hear them grow into monster musicians,” she recently told a packed house at the Leopards' annual fundraising concert, where Nora, Ben & Eli were featured guests.
They maintain a steady schedule now, but the boys will begin college this fall. None of the trio is planning to pursue a career in music, but they will all continue to play, even just for fun, for the rest of their lives.
Nora, Ben & Eli will perform at Sunergos Coffee on Saturday, March 13th, at 7 p.m. Free, all ages.
photo by John Rott
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
John Paul Wright profile: All Aboard for Funtime
An average day working on the railroad goes something like this for John Paul Wright: “The caller calls and you have to be there in two hours. I run the train for eight to 12 hours and go to the hotel. My away-from-home terminal is in Nashville. You might stay in the hotel 12 hours or 24. I work on call, no shift. Long hours being away from home. Lonesome. Johnny Cash said his early music sounded like a train. I know why.”
Wright, a resident of Middletown, was raised in a musical family in Germantown. He began playing guitar while attending the Brown School. He has also studied African drumming for 20 years.
“Hub Engineer” is a song on Wright's first album, Music for Modern Railroaders. It begins with a recording sampled from the CSX phone system. “When you become a hub engineer, you call that number to get that automated crew caller bot. A hub engineer is one that is qualified to run on all lines running out of Louisville. I though it would be funny to add that at the beginning because you live with your phone being on call seven days a week, 24 hours a day.”
Wright wrote “Hub Engineer” as a joke for his colleagues. “Modern railroaders love telling stories, stories about crazy stuff they have done on the railroad. That is my favorite part of my job. The last of the L&N employees are fast retiring. There is a lot of history from the L&N Railroad. My run is the Louisville to Nashville mainline. We are the modern railroaders directly related to Casey Jones, John Henry and the many men and women who built this country.”
Before he went to work on the railroads, he worked as the music director for Pneuma, an after-school arts group. He worked for a while at the late, beloved Twice Told Books in the Highlands, alongside artist and songwriter Sean Garrison. Today Garrison says of Wright, “He has the true voice.”
Joe Manning is a singer/songwriter with a large following and an equally large debt to Wright's influence. “J.P. was the first one to introduce me to bluegrass, and by extension to country music, so I blame him for a lot of the subsequent terrible choices I've made as an adult. He's also a great singer and songwriter who knows the value of experience in storytelling. Look at all the trouble he went to just to write some authentic train songs.”
Elaborating on the connections between music and railroading, Wright said, “A GE Dash-8 locomotive vibrates in a 6/8 pattern, you can stuff paper into the horns and create great tones. The rail sings when you go around a sharp turn. There are thousands of songs about the railroad. Some of the first American labor unions were railroad; Joe Hill and other musicians, Woody Guthrie, sang about union struggle.”
Wright plays most often for his wife and son, but is planning to record a new record this summer. He will warm up by performing at the Railroad Workers United's Labor Notes convention in April in Detroit.
Folk singer John Gage hosts Kentucky Homefront on WFPK-FM. He said, “I've known John most of his life. He's always been musical, and it's been wonderful to see him grow as an artist. He's continuing a tradition of American folk music, singing songs about the railroad. And they're great songs.”
As the secretary treasurer for the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers Local 78, “unions and corporate greed are on my mind more and more,” said Wright. “I am focusing on broader issues.”
For more information, please visit http://www.myspace.com/sd402 and http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/jpwright
photo by John Rott
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Column #11: Ear X-tacy's troubles give one's awareness a jolt
I love mountains. I also love air, oxygen, kittens and other nice things. However, I've become aware that our community has a problem, people. There are so many gas-guzzling cars on our roads declaring their love of mountains through the poor man's canvas — the bumper sticker — and yet how many mountains are being saved by this declarative decoration?
Tip O'Neill famously asserted that "All politics is local," though, being a Bostonian, we only narrowly avoided having to quote "All politics is a local wicked pissa."
When I lived in Boston, people were very concerned with being aware that we shouldn't look at each other while riding the subway. When I lived in California, people were concerned with being aware that it's less fun to surf in a horribly polluted ocean.
Here in Louisville, I've been made very aware that mountaintop removal mining is a horrible practice. It has terrible consequences on jobs, health and our natural environment. It is happening just a few hours' drive away from here, though, and its impact has been felt here by good folks raising awareness that it's happening, over there. They raise our awareness with benefit concerts and with those stickers (which don't mention the issue of mountaintop removal, sadly leaving bored drivers uneducated on the issue).
Are you aware? If there's anything I've realized lately, it's that I need to be more aware. There's Haiti, of course. I'm aware of that situation. It's bad, folks.
This month, I'm aware that snow gets in the way of a lot of stuff. We have a lot of homeless people in this town, and in every town. A lot of children are not getting healthy, nutritious meals. Plus, there's Heidi Montag to worry about.
On a side note, I'd like to ask any well-meaning liberals who haven't yet removed their Kerry/Edwards '04 bumper stickers to stop reading right now, and go do so. Twenty percent of the Highlands, I'm talking to you. It was still kind of inspiring in '05, bittersweet in '06, pointless in '07, a huge wasted opportunity in '08, and today... well, I hate to use the "s" word, but doesn't advocating your support of John Edwards today make you feel kind of stupid? Hey, I used to like the guy, too, before I got to know him.
While we're in the Highlands, are you aware of the problems facing our beloved Ear X-tacy Records? If you haven't heard, store owner John Timmons held a press conference recently, in which he told our community that our iconic store has been losing money steadily and is in danger of closing.
I used to work there, and I later operated my own small, independent and unsuccessful business. Once, John and I had a nice chat about the difficulties of running a business. Sadly, it was at the Jazz Factory, another great local spot unable to survive.
John's announcement was sad, and it was very brave of him to come forward and speak honestly about their dilemma. One fact he mentioned was that the Facebook "Save Ear X-tacy!" page attracted 19,000 fans in three days, while the official store page has less than 5,000. Many of us love joining causes, on Facebook or at benefit concerts, but how many do more than that?
Most people are smarter than John and me and have never owned a business. Many of the killer expenses are unseen or unappreciated by customers. The money you pay for that cool indie record doesn't just cover the cost of getting it from the distributor. Some of your cash pays the LG&E bill, the water bill, the phone bill, insurance, workers' comp, employee paychecks — and more.
How many people who love the store will remember that they need to spend money there every single week? All 19,000 of them? I doubt that.
The people who are working to save mountains also have bills to pay. As John Timmons admitted, there are no easy solutions. I just hope that you're more aware of that now.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Tip O'Neill famously asserted that "All politics is local," though, being a Bostonian, we only narrowly avoided having to quote "All politics is a local wicked pissa."
When I lived in Boston, people were very concerned with being aware that we shouldn't look at each other while riding the subway. When I lived in California, people were concerned with being aware that it's less fun to surf in a horribly polluted ocean.
Here in Louisville, I've been made very aware that mountaintop removal mining is a horrible practice. It has terrible consequences on jobs, health and our natural environment. It is happening just a few hours' drive away from here, though, and its impact has been felt here by good folks raising awareness that it's happening, over there. They raise our awareness with benefit concerts and with those stickers (which don't mention the issue of mountaintop removal, sadly leaving bored drivers uneducated on the issue).
Are you aware? If there's anything I've realized lately, it's that I need to be more aware. There's Haiti, of course. I'm aware of that situation. It's bad, folks.
This month, I'm aware that snow gets in the way of a lot of stuff. We have a lot of homeless people in this town, and in every town. A lot of children are not getting healthy, nutritious meals. Plus, there's Heidi Montag to worry about.
On a side note, I'd like to ask any well-meaning liberals who haven't yet removed their Kerry/Edwards '04 bumper stickers to stop reading right now, and go do so. Twenty percent of the Highlands, I'm talking to you. It was still kind of inspiring in '05, bittersweet in '06, pointless in '07, a huge wasted opportunity in '08, and today... well, I hate to use the "s" word, but doesn't advocating your support of John Edwards today make you feel kind of stupid? Hey, I used to like the guy, too, before I got to know him.
While we're in the Highlands, are you aware of the problems facing our beloved Ear X-tacy Records? If you haven't heard, store owner John Timmons held a press conference recently, in which he told our community that our iconic store has been losing money steadily and is in danger of closing.
I used to work there, and I later operated my own small, independent and unsuccessful business. Once, John and I had a nice chat about the difficulties of running a business. Sadly, it was at the Jazz Factory, another great local spot unable to survive.
John's announcement was sad, and it was very brave of him to come forward and speak honestly about their dilemma. One fact he mentioned was that the Facebook "Save Ear X-tacy!" page attracted 19,000 fans in three days, while the official store page has less than 5,000. Many of us love joining causes, on Facebook or at benefit concerts, but how many do more than that?
Most people are smarter than John and me and have never owned a business. Many of the killer expenses are unseen or unappreciated by customers. The money you pay for that cool indie record doesn't just cover the cost of getting it from the distributor. Some of your cash pays the LG&E bill, the water bill, the phone bill, insurance, workers' comp, employee paychecks — and more.
How many people who love the store will remember that they need to spend money there every single week? All 19,000 of them? I doubt that.
The people who are working to save mountains also have bills to pay. As John Timmons admitted, there are no easy solutions. I just hope that you're more aware of that now.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Monday, February 15, 2010
The Ravenna Colt interview
Johnny Quaid joined his cousin, Jim Olliges, in 1998 on a musical project that would become the very popular and acclaimed My Morning Jacket. He stayed through three albums, providing guitar and engineering services. Quaid left in 2004, when he moved to California and began working as a carpenter. His new band, The Ravenna Colt, takes its name from a book written in 1902, The Art of Taming and Educating the Horse. In it, author Dennis Magner describes The Ravenna Colt, "a virtually untamable, yet not necessarily barbarous animal." Compared to his previous band, this one is more akin to his version of the country troubadour tradition. The Ravenna Colt will play a record release show at Zanzabar on February 19th, at 8 p.m. Tickets are $8.
Where did you grow up?
I was born in Louisville, Ky. I lived in Middletown until I was about 8. We moved to Simpsonville after that. After high school, I moved to Shelbyville to work on the family farm.
Is your family musical or artistic?
I have this one bearded cousin that is in a band with a funny name, something about a jacket or coat or something, I think he's got some potential, haha. My great-great-grandfather had a small orchestra and I believe they played parlor music. I had a great uncle that was a talented bluegrass guitar player. I have lots of aunts and cousins that are really talented in visual art, film and music. We're kind of like the Partridge Family without the bus.
What is your musical background / training?
I got started into music early on. Being slightly hyperactive - okay, maybe just wild - my mom thought it would be good to "channel" my energy and enrolled me in violin lessons in the suzuki program at 5 years old. I got on stage and felt right at home. I was the only kid in the class that showed up in jeans and cowboy boots. I stopped playing around 9 or 10 years old. I really wish now that I would have stuck with it, and I still hope to pick it up one of these days. I played piano for a year. At then at the age of 12, I was corrupted for life when a classmate at school started taking guitar lessons. From then on I was either at school, doing chores on the farm or locked in my room trying to learn the fastest Metallica riff I could manage. I took guitar lessons for about 5 years from a really great teacher, Greg Pullen. He really inspired me, and I would go as far as saying changed my life!
Who are your musical favorites/inspirations?
Ah, the dreaded influence question that we all despise, but secretly love to answer! I was inspired early on by what my mom listened to, we wore out her copy of Born in the USA and Thriller albums! My guitar heroes are Keith Richards and Angus Young, Slash, and all the other standard government issue rock guitar players. When it comes to songwriting, I am inspired by guys like Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits, John Prine, Otis Redding and everything and everyone that I've ever heard. I love all styles and genres of music.
What bands/projects are you currently involved with? How did you get involved with them?
My project is called The Ravenna Colt. It's an outlet for my work as a songwriter. I've had the good fortune to have some really talented friends work on my album and join me on stage. I tracked some lead guitar work in the studio for local hometown heroes, The Debutantes. I also just did some production work for a string band called The Downtown County Band. I love working in the studio, it's a very special feeling to listen to a song come to life and grow into its own entity.
What do you hope to achieve with music?
Happiness. I can really feel my mood change after I have been working on music. I feel very alive when I'm performing and writing songs. I hope the listener feels that and shares that same sentiment. I would love to think that my kids or grandkids might be interested in my musical endeavors, but they'll probably think I'm a goofball playing ancient music!
Learn more at www.theravennacolt.com.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Valentine's Day: LoveMaking
Handcraft something from the heart for your sweetie.
Artists Cara Anderson and Kenny Andreozzi are in love and are very crafty, so who better to help you make a special, unique gift for your sweetie this Valentine's Day?
Here's something you can do for around $10, with all supplies procured at the Gardiner Lane Shopping Center on Bardstown Road.
Supplies:
* Rubber eraser (99 cents at Preston Arts Center)
* X-Acto Knife ($1.99 at Preston Arts)
* Card stock ($1.50 forlarge sheet at Preston Arts)
* Red ink pad ($4.49 at Staples)
Instructions:
1) Draw your design on the eraser - the simpler the better. Make sure to draw letters backward!
2) Carve the design into the stamp using the knife to remove the negative space around your design.
3) Ink your finished stamp on the ink pad and stamp away.
4) Use your stamp to make a Valentine for your best guy or gal.
You can make as many stamps as there are sides to your eraser - up to six!
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Artists Cara Anderson and Kenny Andreozzi are in love and are very crafty, so who better to help you make a special, unique gift for your sweetie this Valentine's Day?
Here's something you can do for around $10, with all supplies procured at the Gardiner Lane Shopping Center on Bardstown Road.
Supplies:
* Rubber eraser (99 cents at Preston Arts Center)
* X-Acto Knife ($1.99 at Preston Arts)
* Card stock ($1.50 forlarge sheet at Preston Arts)
* Red ink pad ($4.49 at Staples)
Instructions:
1) Draw your design on the eraser - the simpler the better. Make sure to draw letters backward!
2) Carve the design into the stamp using the knife to remove the negative space around your design.
3) Ink your finished stamp on the ink pad and stamp away.
4) Use your stamp to make a Valentine for your best guy or gal.
You can make as many stamps as there are sides to your eraser - up to six!
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Column #10: Jay and Conan inspire a musical-chairs fantasy
When it was announced that May 29th, 2009, would be Jay Leno’s last night as the host of “The Tonight Show”, I was thrilled. I would be getting married the next day, and I accepted the timing as a gift offering from NBC – nay, from all of TV and comedy – that they knew would make me very, very happy. As a comedy fan, and someone whose personality was influenced perhaps a touch too much by the influence of David Letterman, I don’t consider myself a mere passive observer. As a subject, of course I realize that there are more important things to worry about in life – but, for me, the biggest star who appeared on the Hope for Haiti telethon wasn’t George Clooney or Madonna, it was Jon Stewart.
Now that it’s hopefully over, I think it probably worked out about as well as it was ever going to. Don’t mistake that for an endorsement of Jay Leno; I saw him live 20 years ago, before he got “The Tonight Show,” and I’ve seen his TV show. He was never an inspiring, insightful or particularly memorable comic, but he wasn’t the bloated, transparently pandering RoboComic that he has since become. I live in reality, though, and it seems ridiculous now to think that Conan O’Brien could have tamed the wilder instincts of the younger, 12:30 a.m. Conan without losing what is essential to his comedy, while still appealing to the audience who found Leno and Johnny Carson so soothing and reassuring for so long. Conan could barely beat Craig Ferguson in the ratings. Apparently, the consensus is that brainy O’Brien appeals to a smaller, more focused audience who would rather watch the highbrow comedy of a bear pleasuring itself or a vomiting Muppet - instead of the lowbrow comedy of faux-everyman Leno mocking folks on the street for not knowing, offhand, who our 28th president was (Woodrow Wilson. I googled it).
While I am a realist, I am also a dreamer. I’m very complicated, folks. I hope that Leno will lose his audience soon, and move to China. So, since you’re asking, what would I do next? NBC has a stable of funny people under contract. Two of them have failed as talk show hosts already - Chevy Chase, obviously, and Richard Belzer of “Law and Order” had a talk show on Lifetime in the ‘80’s. Tina Fey, Amy Poehler and Steve Carrell all seem qualified for the job but that won’t happen. “Community” star Joel McHale also hosts the clip show “The Soup”, is funny, handsome, likable and seems ideal.
I vote for Ellen DeGeneres, though. We now have 2 female news anchors (and a half-black president), but late night network comedy shows are still the land of the white men. Everyone loves her, and it would be progress. But what do I know? I also think that, in 2016, our next president should be Oprah – for the same reasons. Even more interesting would be if Rosie O’Donnell replaced Letterman, when he retired, and battled Ellen to be America's Sweetheart…
And Conan? Any 11 p.m. slot would put him against Jon Stewart, and could backfire. Fox affiliates would revolt over low ratings, and he’d be ruined. He’d reject midnight on Comedy Central – but would 10 p.m. be such a bad idea on cable, leading in to Stewart? Surely “South Park” can rerun 18 times per day instead of 20.
Instead of paying $45 million to be rid of him, NBC could have aired him on USA, the most popular cable channel, which they own – nightly at 10. The whole debacle is already reminiscent of when Mariah Carey was paid $49 million to leave Virgin, then came back bigger than ever on Island Records. Or when Wilco was paid to leave Reprise, then was paid again to sign with Nonesuch, who were owned by the same parent company, and came back bigger than ever.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Now that it’s hopefully over, I think it probably worked out about as well as it was ever going to. Don’t mistake that for an endorsement of Jay Leno; I saw him live 20 years ago, before he got “The Tonight Show,” and I’ve seen his TV show. He was never an inspiring, insightful or particularly memorable comic, but he wasn’t the bloated, transparently pandering RoboComic that he has since become. I live in reality, though, and it seems ridiculous now to think that Conan O’Brien could have tamed the wilder instincts of the younger, 12:30 a.m. Conan without losing what is essential to his comedy, while still appealing to the audience who found Leno and Johnny Carson so soothing and reassuring for so long. Conan could barely beat Craig Ferguson in the ratings. Apparently, the consensus is that brainy O’Brien appeals to a smaller, more focused audience who would rather watch the highbrow comedy of a bear pleasuring itself or a vomiting Muppet - instead of the lowbrow comedy of faux-everyman Leno mocking folks on the street for not knowing, offhand, who our 28th president was (Woodrow Wilson. I googled it).
While I am a realist, I am also a dreamer. I’m very complicated, folks. I hope that Leno will lose his audience soon, and move to China. So, since you’re asking, what would I do next? NBC has a stable of funny people under contract. Two of them have failed as talk show hosts already - Chevy Chase, obviously, and Richard Belzer of “Law and Order” had a talk show on Lifetime in the ‘80’s. Tina Fey, Amy Poehler and Steve Carrell all seem qualified for the job but that won’t happen. “Community” star Joel McHale also hosts the clip show “The Soup”, is funny, handsome, likable and seems ideal.
I vote for Ellen DeGeneres, though. We now have 2 female news anchors (and a half-black president), but late night network comedy shows are still the land of the white men. Everyone loves her, and it would be progress. But what do I know? I also think that, in 2016, our next president should be Oprah – for the same reasons. Even more interesting would be if Rosie O’Donnell replaced Letterman, when he retired, and battled Ellen to be America's Sweetheart…
And Conan? Any 11 p.m. slot would put him against Jon Stewart, and could backfire. Fox affiliates would revolt over low ratings, and he’d be ruined. He’d reject midnight on Comedy Central – but would 10 p.m. be such a bad idea on cable, leading in to Stewart? Surely “South Park” can rerun 18 times per day instead of 20.
Instead of paying $45 million to be rid of him, NBC could have aired him on USA, the most popular cable channel, which they own – nightly at 10. The whole debacle is already reminiscent of when Mariah Carey was paid $49 million to leave Virgin, then came back bigger than ever on Island Records. Or when Wilco was paid to leave Reprise, then was paid again to sign with Nonesuch, who were owned by the same parent company, and came back bigger than ever.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Calexico interview
For over a decade, Calexico has been a goodwill ambassador of good music, melding indie rock, Americana, latin flavor, movie scores, jazziness and south of the border folklorico into a gumbo that has delighted fans from their home of Tucson, Arizona to Tokyo. Despite massive changes in the music industry, the veteran band is always brave enough to try something new. For example? They are collaborating with the Louisville Orchestra on Saturday, January 30th, at the Kentucky Center's Whitney Hall. New L.A. buzzband The Airborne Toxic Event is also on the bill.
Velocity's resident pop culture guru, Peter Berkowitz, recently had a chance to ask Calexico's singer and guitarist, Joey Burns, a few questions:
Joey, thanks for doing this. I'm a first-time caller but a longtime fan!
Thanks for the opportunity to talk. Looking forward to the show.
How has the collapse of Touch and Go, your longtime label, affected Calexico? Do you know yet how your next record will be distributed?
It hasn't affected Calexico quite yet as we don't have a new release coming out this winter. I just spoke with (label owner) Corey (Rusk) and had a really good conversation about many things, music business stuff included. I think we both agreed to cross that bridge when we get to it. He's such a good friend and I really enjoy our connection. I suppose I am most sad about not having the whole staff at Touch and Go Records there anymore. They are such a great group of people and so helpful to bands like ours. They made it easy to be a self-managed indie rock band. They taught me that it's important to carry that creativity into the business side of releasing music and to always be surrounded by intelligent, like-minded people who have a strong work ethic and sense of humor.
Your music conveys a feeling of the Southwest more than probably anyone since Ennio Morricone was scoring Westerns. Additionally, yours is one of the most post-globally influenced American bands around still. Do you enjoy - or are you frustrated - that Calexico continues to stand out so much in a sea of more conventional, more simplistic and interchangeable rock bands?
We don't mind standing out at all. Our record collections and musical influences continue to get more diverse with each tour that takes us to far corners of the globe. With all of the influences, we strive to make it our own. It's important to make sounds with your voice and choice of aesthetics. We just received our first offer to play Mexico City yesterday at a rock festival called "Vive Latino" with a capacity of 55,000 people. Should be a lot of fun and good to play in unchartered waters, so to speak.
Many major acts, such as Bon Jovi and Hootie, have "gone country" in an attempt to broaden their fan base. As a versatile, roots-based American band, do you think you would ever make a so-called "country" record? It worked for Freddie Fender!
Sounds like you're a music producer. We've worked with Willie Nelson, Jerry Douglas, Joe Ely, and even the late, great Freddie Fender. I guess some of our recordings have touched on the more pure country motif. The song "Slowness" on the new album Carried To Dust definitely conjures up the Gram Parsons/Emmylou Harris vibe. The song features singer songwriter Pieta Brown. These influences of genre and style weave in and out of live shows and recordings. The variety is key for us and our own unique vision of how we blend things.
You have collaborated with Louisville's own Jim James (of My Morning Jacket), amongst many collaborations. Do you feel any kinship with The Band, in that you are able to be the star or the supporting band depending on the situation? Or The Roots? Would you consider being the house band on a talk show?
Sure. You a TV producer as well? I'm liking where you're going. Love The Band, The Roots and the Duke Ellington orchestra. Our dream is a massive music hall filled with instruments from around the world and recording gear.
For the January 30th show, you're collaborating with the Louisville Orchestra. How often do you get a chance to do something like this? Are you more excited or afraid of what might happen?
This is the first time for us live. We've done some similar work in the studio, but this is going to be great. We are all so excited. What should we wear? Tuxedos?
Your band's lyrics are more literate than most. Instead of asking for a favorite records list, could you recommend 2 or 3 great books?
You Are Not a Stranger Here by Adam Haslett. Short stories of melancholia. Perfect for long flights.
Some of the Dead Are Still Breathing by Charles Bowden. Good inspiration for late night journal spelunking and Sunday morning walks back into town.
The World That Made New Orleans together with Cuba and Its Music by Ned Sublett. Tracing back to what made Jazz and some of the best music in the world.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Velocity's resident pop culture guru, Peter Berkowitz, recently had a chance to ask Calexico's singer and guitarist, Joey Burns, a few questions:
Joey, thanks for doing this. I'm a first-time caller but a longtime fan!
Thanks for the opportunity to talk. Looking forward to the show.
How has the collapse of Touch and Go, your longtime label, affected Calexico? Do you know yet how your next record will be distributed?
It hasn't affected Calexico quite yet as we don't have a new release coming out this winter. I just spoke with (label owner) Corey (Rusk) and had a really good conversation about many things, music business stuff included. I think we both agreed to cross that bridge when we get to it. He's such a good friend and I really enjoy our connection. I suppose I am most sad about not having the whole staff at Touch and Go Records there anymore. They are such a great group of people and so helpful to bands like ours. They made it easy to be a self-managed indie rock band. They taught me that it's important to carry that creativity into the business side of releasing music and to always be surrounded by intelligent, like-minded people who have a strong work ethic and sense of humor.
Your music conveys a feeling of the Southwest more than probably anyone since Ennio Morricone was scoring Westerns. Additionally, yours is one of the most post-globally influenced American bands around still. Do you enjoy - or are you frustrated - that Calexico continues to stand out so much in a sea of more conventional, more simplistic and interchangeable rock bands?
We don't mind standing out at all. Our record collections and musical influences continue to get more diverse with each tour that takes us to far corners of the globe. With all of the influences, we strive to make it our own. It's important to make sounds with your voice and choice of aesthetics. We just received our first offer to play Mexico City yesterday at a rock festival called "Vive Latino" with a capacity of 55,000 people. Should be a lot of fun and good to play in unchartered waters, so to speak.
Many major acts, such as Bon Jovi and Hootie, have "gone country" in an attempt to broaden their fan base. As a versatile, roots-based American band, do you think you would ever make a so-called "country" record? It worked for Freddie Fender!
Sounds like you're a music producer. We've worked with Willie Nelson, Jerry Douglas, Joe Ely, and even the late, great Freddie Fender. I guess some of our recordings have touched on the more pure country motif. The song "Slowness" on the new album Carried To Dust definitely conjures up the Gram Parsons/Emmylou Harris vibe. The song features singer songwriter Pieta Brown. These influences of genre and style weave in and out of live shows and recordings. The variety is key for us and our own unique vision of how we blend things.
You have collaborated with Louisville's own Jim James (of My Morning Jacket), amongst many collaborations. Do you feel any kinship with The Band, in that you are able to be the star or the supporting band depending on the situation? Or The Roots? Would you consider being the house band on a talk show?
Sure. You a TV producer as well? I'm liking where you're going. Love The Band, The Roots and the Duke Ellington orchestra. Our dream is a massive music hall filled with instruments from around the world and recording gear.
For the January 30th show, you're collaborating with the Louisville Orchestra. How often do you get a chance to do something like this? Are you more excited or afraid of what might happen?
This is the first time for us live. We've done some similar work in the studio, but this is going to be great. We are all so excited. What should we wear? Tuxedos?
Your band's lyrics are more literate than most. Instead of asking for a favorite records list, could you recommend 2 or 3 great books?
You Are Not a Stranger Here by Adam Haslett. Short stories of melancholia. Perfect for long flights.
Some of the Dead Are Still Breathing by Charles Bowden. Good inspiration for late night journal spelunking and Sunday morning walks back into town.
The World That Made New Orleans together with Cuba and Its Music by Ned Sublett. Tracing back to what made Jazz and some of the best music in the world.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Tom Green interview
Proudly Canadian Tom Green first achieved fame in the U.S in 1999 when his comedy show, The Tom Green Show, began airing on MTV. He had a quick rise, moving from TV stardom to movies, marrying Drew Barrymore, and hosting "Saturday Night Live" and appearing on the cover of Rolling Stone. But just as quickly, his career - and life - was in freefall.
At the height of his fame, he was diagnosed with testicular cancer. He ended his TV show. His marriage ended in mere months. A movie he directed, co-wrote and starred in, Freddy Got Fingered, was declared one of the worst movies in history.
Today, he has found a new path. Since 2006 he has hosted a new talk show, Tom Green's House Tonight, where guests visit him in his home. It is amongst the most popular regular programs on the web. Last year, after another health scare, he returned to stand-up comedy. His tour brings him to The Improv in Louisville on Wednesday, January 27th. Velocity's resident pop culture guru, Peter Berkowitz, recently spoke with him:
Have you been to Louisville before?
Yes, I have, actually. I've been to the Louisville Slugger Factory. I got one of those bats with my name personalized on it. I'm looking forward to being back there again, it's gonna be a great time.
How's the tour going so far?
It's going great. I'm touring around with my friend Sean, we're on a world tour. We started out in Edmonton, Canada, we're going to Atlanta and Marco Island and then Louisville, around the country and then on to Australia. I'm really lovin' it.
You did stand-up in your teens, but hadn't done it in many years. How did you get back into it?
Jordy (Fox) from MySpace's comedy site, he was up here at the house and he brought other comedians with him, guys like Russell Peters, Nick Swardson. Then they asked me to perform at the New York Comedy Festival. It was something I'd been wanting to do, I just needed somebody to ask me to do it. MySpace, on their comedy site, I did a secret standup show for that. They actually just put it up on their site, so you can check that out now.
Is your stand-up going to be like what we've seen you do on your web channel or TV shows?
It's a hybrid. I'm excited about using the internet, letting the fans see what's going on on the road. We were throwin' snowballs in Edmonton.
Is the web channel your main focus? Is that your full-time job these days?
It's like a completely independent hobby that's gone out of control. I do it whenever I can. Sometimes I can do shows, sometimes I can't do a regular show. I don't look at it like that. I don't look at it like a job. But yeah, I'm putting my focus on the channel. We're working with an ad agency in L.A., to bring it in a bigger way. I want to have other shows on the channel, I want to be able to get on the road but still have a chunk of shows up at a time. The fun thing is getting a sponsor. You need somebody to run it, y'know? We've had various sponsors over the years, like Budweiser.
Tell me more about putting your stand-up act together.
It's always evolving. I don't ever do the same thing, every night. I have jokes, there's things I talk about. Y'know, you do five hour-long shows in a row, you figure out what works. A little music, too. We've got some high energy crowds, people yelling stuff out. It's exciting. People have conversations with me. People yell out stuff: 'Do "The Bum Bum Song"! Slutmobile!' It's being loose, it's fun to go with it. It's exciting, a good time for everyone.
So you hope to keep doing this for a while.
I basically quit drinking for this tour. Well, not liquids - just not drinking booze. I'll have a drink after the show, maybe. It's not good for my endurance. I just lived in the West Edmonton mall for five days. The club was in a mall, where the hotel was, and the restaurant, and it was snowing, y'know? I just went back and forth, back and forth. It's pretty cool. It was like Biodome. I hope people will come see the live show, and also start following it on the web. This is what I want to be doing for the next few years - going on the road making videos. What's cool is that other people are making videos of the show and posting them. I'm a video nerd. Anything to do with making videos, editing, experimentation, etc. I find it mind-blowing still what people are able to do with it. It's exciting to me - new cameras. Growing up, wanting to make videos, I had to volunteer at the local community TV station - now I can edit with Final Cut Pro in an edit bay on a laptop in the hotel room, and then post stuff immediately. I've been filming the audience with a flip cam. I've also been playing a game with the audience: passing the camera around, having them film themselves, passing it around and then hopefully passing it back to me.
And you're healthy again, so this is a good time for you.
It's very therapeutic, doing this show. There's a lot of problems that I'm dealing with - the world, me... It's therapeutic and it's funny, too. I just want everyone to realize, 'Wow! Damn! We're lucky to be here.' I'm just trying to remind everybody.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
At the height of his fame, he was diagnosed with testicular cancer. He ended his TV show. His marriage ended in mere months. A movie he directed, co-wrote and starred in, Freddy Got Fingered, was declared one of the worst movies in history.
Today, he has found a new path. Since 2006 he has hosted a new talk show, Tom Green's House Tonight, where guests visit him in his home. It is amongst the most popular regular programs on the web. Last year, after another health scare, he returned to stand-up comedy. His tour brings him to The Improv in Louisville on Wednesday, January 27th. Velocity's resident pop culture guru, Peter Berkowitz, recently spoke with him:
Have you been to Louisville before?
Yes, I have, actually. I've been to the Louisville Slugger Factory. I got one of those bats with my name personalized on it. I'm looking forward to being back there again, it's gonna be a great time.
How's the tour going so far?
It's going great. I'm touring around with my friend Sean, we're on a world tour. We started out in Edmonton, Canada, we're going to Atlanta and Marco Island and then Louisville, around the country and then on to Australia. I'm really lovin' it.
You did stand-up in your teens, but hadn't done it in many years. How did you get back into it?
Jordy (Fox) from MySpace's comedy site, he was up here at the house and he brought other comedians with him, guys like Russell Peters, Nick Swardson. Then they asked me to perform at the New York Comedy Festival. It was something I'd been wanting to do, I just needed somebody to ask me to do it. MySpace, on their comedy site, I did a secret standup show for that. They actually just put it up on their site, so you can check that out now.
Is your stand-up going to be like what we've seen you do on your web channel or TV shows?
It's a hybrid. I'm excited about using the internet, letting the fans see what's going on on the road. We were throwin' snowballs in Edmonton.
Is the web channel your main focus? Is that your full-time job these days?
It's like a completely independent hobby that's gone out of control. I do it whenever I can. Sometimes I can do shows, sometimes I can't do a regular show. I don't look at it like that. I don't look at it like a job. But yeah, I'm putting my focus on the channel. We're working with an ad agency in L.A., to bring it in a bigger way. I want to have other shows on the channel, I want to be able to get on the road but still have a chunk of shows up at a time. The fun thing is getting a sponsor. You need somebody to run it, y'know? We've had various sponsors over the years, like Budweiser.
Tell me more about putting your stand-up act together.
It's always evolving. I don't ever do the same thing, every night. I have jokes, there's things I talk about. Y'know, you do five hour-long shows in a row, you figure out what works. A little music, too. We've got some high energy crowds, people yelling stuff out. It's exciting. People have conversations with me. People yell out stuff: 'Do "The Bum Bum Song"! Slutmobile!' It's being loose, it's fun to go with it. It's exciting, a good time for everyone.
So you hope to keep doing this for a while.
I basically quit drinking for this tour. Well, not liquids - just not drinking booze. I'll have a drink after the show, maybe. It's not good for my endurance. I just lived in the West Edmonton mall for five days. The club was in a mall, where the hotel was, and the restaurant, and it was snowing, y'know? I just went back and forth, back and forth. It's pretty cool. It was like Biodome. I hope people will come see the live show, and also start following it on the web. This is what I want to be doing for the next few years - going on the road making videos. What's cool is that other people are making videos of the show and posting them. I'm a video nerd. Anything to do with making videos, editing, experimentation, etc. I find it mind-blowing still what people are able to do with it. It's exciting to me - new cameras. Growing up, wanting to make videos, I had to volunteer at the local community TV station - now I can edit with Final Cut Pro in an edit bay on a laptop in the hotel room, and then post stuff immediately. I've been filming the audience with a flip cam. I've also been playing a game with the audience: passing the camera around, having them film themselves, passing it around and then hopefully passing it back to me.
And you're healthy again, so this is a good time for you.
It's very therapeutic, doing this show. There's a lot of problems that I'm dealing with - the world, me... It's therapeutic and it's funny, too. I just want everyone to realize, 'Wow! Damn! We're lucky to be here.' I'm just trying to remind everybody.
c. 2010 Velocity Weekly
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