The Aquabats’ super family fun

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Christian Jacobs has lived many lives in his 40 years on this planet. Today he is star, co-creator and executive producer of the campy Saturday morning show “The Aquabats! Super Show!,” which stars his long-running New Wave pop-punk band, The Aquabats. It took 15 years for the band to achieve their dream of having their own TV series, and it took the success of Jacobs’ previous creation, “Yo! Gabba Gabba,” to ease the way.

Jacobs began his show business career early — as a child actor, appearing on “Married … with Children,” “Major Dad” and more. A role in the skate movie “Gleaming the Cube” led the L.A. resident to the local skate and punk scenes. In 1995, the Aquabats released their first album, standing out with a costumed stage show and storylines about superheroes battling villains. (Jacobs’ character is known today as “MC Bat Commander.”)

After the band’s initial success wore off, Jacobs and writing partner Scott Schultz developed “Yo! Gabba Gabba,” the hugely popular and weirdly psychedelic series hosted by a hip DJ for pre-schoolers (and their still-with-it parents, and/or stoned college students). Their vision finally confirmed by a mainstream audience, Schultz, Jacobs and the rest of the band premiered “The Aquabats! Super Show!” on the new kids’ channel The Hub in March. The first season has featured guest appearances by “Weird Al” Yankovic, Jon Heder of “Napoleon Dynamite,” comedian Paul Scheer, and ’70s game show star Rip Taylor, and follows in the tradition of Saturday morning cross-generational classics like “H.R. Pufnstuf” and “Pee-Wee’s Playhouse.”

“We really wanted to be put on Saturday mornings, in the tradition of that,” says Jacobs, “and we’ve been getting a lot of feedback from fans online and friends, saying, ‘It’s so awesome, we can’t wait to wake up and watch the show on Saturday mornings.’”

LEO: The last great network Saturday morning show was “The Weird Al Show,” which ended in 1997. You probably could have had this show on back then, but it took almost 15 years. Did Al give you any tips?
Christian Jacobs: Yeah, we talked about his show, actually. I was a big fan of his show as well … Al was like, “I’d been trying to do a show for a long time, and it came together, but there were so many rules and regulations, the network has this-and-that-and-the-other-thing; it was really an unpleasant battle to make that show,” which surprised me. He’s saying that standing there in a superhero outfit (laughs), because we were in between takes.

Jacobs praises cable and the Internet for giving writers and performers more chances to make shows like his, and with less restrictions. And though the initial broadcast audience might be smaller, such offbeat productions now have many more ways to be discovered.

LEO: The Hub’s target audience is between 6 and 11 years old. How difficult is it to balance making it fun for them and for adults?
CJ: I want to say “it’s impossible, you can’t do it, I don’t know how we discovered this magic formula,” but … “Spongebob” did it great, “The Simpsons,” so many shows do it great. For the kinds of things we’re referencing and homaging, I didn’t know it if would work for kids. I knew I liked it, I knew our peer group would enjoy it; it was just making sure it was appropriate for kids, that it wasn’t too violent, that kids could still benefit from watching it somehow. But being so close to the Aquabats, I always wondered, “Is this really going to be accepted by kids?” Or are kids just gonna go, “Oh, this is old, I’m gonna go watch ‘The Avengers’ or ‘Iron Man.’” There’s all these way more slick things out there, but we’re seeing that kids really do like it.

After so many years with the band, I’m just so glad that people are responding. It’s really surprising and satisfying for us, and I think the show can only get better and better as we keep reaching out there, do stuff that’s different and unique. It does come from a real punk-rock sensibility that we all grew up with. We grew up in a good time with punk and hip-hop and underground culture becoming mainstream; we’ve basically been applying that DIY ethic to making a television show.

‘The Aquabats! Super Show!’
Saturdays at 11 a.m., The Hub, hubworld.com.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Lee Ranaldo’s new sonic life

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For 30 years, Lee Ranaldo was one of the two guitar heroes of the ultimate guitar/noise/cool band Sonic Youth. While he sang some songs, Ranaldo was perceived as being more of a worker and less of a centerpiece than guitarist Thurston Moore and bassist Kim Gordon, who sang more and stood out for their long, seemingly ideal marriage.

The couple announced their separation last fall, and the future of the band was put on hiatus. Ranaldo, now 56 and a tireless collaborator who has already released eight solo albums of experimental music, had been working with Sonic Youth drummer Steve Shelley and others on his first solo “song record,” as he calls it. The result, Between the Times and the Tides, was released in March, and Ranaldo and band come to Louisville in between dates opening for M. Ward.

Lee Ranaldo: I have a lot of friends who live in Louisville, and I’ve loved a lot of different music that’s come out of Louisville over the years. To me, it’s a really cool town, it’s a music town, and I really like hanging out there. There’s definitely local musicians I really like a lot, that I play with a fair amount, so I’m definitely psyched to come.

Some of his local friends include percussionist Tim Barnes, who often played with Ranaldo when he lived in New York, and singer-songwriter Will Oldham. Also, “There’s this poet/writer guy named Ron Whitehead down there that I’ve been longtime friends with.

“Louisville’s one of those places where it’s a small town but had a big impact on a lot of people,” says Ranaldo. “There’s been a lot of great music coming out of there.”

LEO: As a fan for two decades, this is the solo record I’ve been wanting you to put out.
LR: Oh, cool! Well, it’s definitely the record I’ve been wanting me to put out, as well. I’m super happy that it finally happened. It happened at the point when I least expected it. I’ve tried to make a solo record in the past, force it into being; either I’d get distracted by Sonic Youth going on tour, or going in the studio or whatever, it never happened. I’d always written songs like this — most of them are on cassettes in drawers. But this time, it snuck up on me at a time when I was preoccupied by a bunch of other stuff. It happened in a really natural way, which I think adds to how nice it sounds.

LEO: Did you feel that your time to do this was running out, after 30 years with a band?
LR: No, it didn’t feel that way at the time of making this record. But if you’d asked me four or five years ago, I probably would have said, “Yeah, if I don’t make a solo record soon, it’s never gonna happen.”

LEO: Did it feel like fate taking over?
LR: It was weird. Especially with the timing — it was mostly complete when it was revealed, all this stuff internally with Sonic Youth … I don’t think I could have made this record knowing that the band was gonna stop, for a while at the very least, or whatever. I made it in our downtime, oblivious to all that stuff that was going on … My band played our first gig the day after Thurston and Kim announced their split.

LEO: Did part of you feel like, “Hey, this is my moment!”?
LR: No, not really. If anything, I just felt sorry to see them going through this kind of pain.

LEO: I’ve thought before that if Sonic Youth had broken up around 1997, there would be millions of dollars waiting for you to reunite.
LR: Maybe. That wasn’t the important issue for us. We used to joke, “Yeah, we should break up and then come back six or seven years later, do a reunion tour, and make a lot of money,” but it wasn’t really ever the object of it for us. It’s been a lot of fun to do a small tour like this. It’s a lot of work to put it together; we’ve been spoiled in Sonic Youth by how faithful and devoted our crew’s been. It’s really, on a lot of levels, like starting from scratch … if I didn’t feel like the music was worth it, I wouldn’t be doing it.

Lee Ranaldo with Wooden Wand and Sea Hero
Saturday, May 19
Zanzabar
2100 S. Preston St. • 935-9227
zanzabarlouisville.com
$16 adv., $18 DOS; 9 p.m.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Artis more

The first full-length album by the band Artis Gilmore, The Narwhal and the Dinosaur, is 42.9 minutes of pure indie-pop, an unexpected fusion of singer-songwriter Rebecca Williams and Nerves Junior members Cory Wayne and Chris Snow. They play Zanzabar on Friday, and their album will be commercially available this week. How did Artis Gilmore happen? Are we safe?

LEO: Artis Gilmore doesn’t obviously sound like either of your own projects. How did you find this sound?

Rebecca Williams: I met Cory and Chris while I was in the studio recording this album, and several months later, we decided to collaborate as a live band and eventually started writing songs together. I wrote this album two years after my first, which allowed me time to listen to different music than I had been listening to before, and (I) found a thicker sound for the new material I was writing. The sound of this album is solely due to (engineer) Kevin Ratterman’s and (ex-Nerves Junior) Stuart Phelps’ distinct styles; I came to the studio with skeletons, and they gave them blood and guts.

LEO: Who else has inspired you in developing this band?

RW: The live act is heavily inspired by Björk and Matmos, the stuff that they did at the Royal Opera House.

LEO: Where do you go from here? Videos, touring, festivals? Or is this just for fun?

RW: Graduation parties and Bat Mitzvahs, occasional Hall of Fame inductions and/or ribbon cuttings. We’re still in the planning stage.

Learn more at facebook.com/ArtisGilmore.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Mr. Cosby is ready for you

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Pudding pops. Sweaters. Based on the reactions of some of the people I talked to about interviewing Bill Cosby — America’s dad, the savior of the sitcom, bestselling author and failed movie star — these are the things they first associate with the man who prefers to be called “Mr. Cosby,” even though, technically, he is Dr. William H. Cosby Jr., holder of a doctorate in education, and a trailblazer not only in entertainment but in all of modern American life.

In 1983, he released a landmark concert film called Bill Cosby, Himself, which defined his legacy as our greatest storytelling comedian. He recently discussed his approach to comedy, noting that he was willing to go out of his way to help sell tickets for this tour, as the economy was hurting advance sales. LEO was thrilled to have the chance to speak with the legend.

LEO: So, why should people come to your show?
Bill Cosby: (deadpan) I have no idea. (I laugh). Now, you have to write all this stuff down, you know, because it might be funny. I’m not gonna go through anything except: I know I’m good — that’s first of all. I know I’m a master at what I do. No. 3, I’m a performance … funny man. A storyteller.

Mr. Cosby then told a long, random story about a man who approached him on the street, laughing. The man said, “I’m not alone,” then continued walking. Mr. Cosby got in his car and was driven away. At a traffic light, he saw the man, still walking and laughing. The encounter stuck with him.

BC: I recently played a hall in Carmel, Ind. That’s “car-mul,” not “car-mell.” The driver turned to me about halfway through our drive to the airport and said to me, “I was listening to you work while I waited for you. How many people are in your show?” I said, “It’s just me!” He said, “Well, it sounds like four or five people are up there.” So that’s a part of the performance. I don’t do voices anymore. I may do attitudes, or I do characters ... I do what I’ve seen, and what I imagine. I’m my own editor, my own director, my own writer. And I’m aiming to make people feel comfortable.

Mr. Cosby then asked if I would hold for a minute. I said yes, wondering if he would return.

BC: (returning) OK!
LEO: You were talking about telling stories.
BC: Well, see, when I went out to perform in the second show, what he’s talking about, I decided to do something about our daughter, my wife and I, when she was about to enter college. So I had to do the character of my wife. I did the character of my daughter. I did the character of the president of the school, the president’s secretary, I did the character of the president giving the graduation speech, and then some characters going up and receiving diplomas. That’s what he was talking about.

I know what I’m going to do the last 10 minutes before going on, but once I get out there, I know what I want done. And that is for people to feel, as they leave, exactly what I told you before. Because I often wondered, in the beginning, the first 20 years of my career — maybe the first 30 — it became a question with comedians, that if a comedian, man or woman, goes on stage and they do rock-sock and people are laughin’, how they don’t have a shelf life that a funny play would have. That a funny play could come to town and play with, let’s say a star, who … could do that funny play, and it would be sold out! For a whole week! Why can’t a comedian who gets 50 times the laughs do the same kind of business? And I figured that the reason would be because there’s no performance, so to speak.

Comedians come up and they start talking and they, you know, do this and, “Why does the chicken cross the road to get to the other side hohohaha.” I’ve had people come to me after 30, 40 years — “We saw you in 1973 and we laughed so hard!” and then they start telling me about the damage it did to them — which may be the reason they didn’t come back — but they were laughing so hard and their sides were burning and their face was hurting, and I’m thinking, “And when did you see me again?” “Well, I think this is the second time.” How come you can’t remember? What is it that didn’t bring you back? … I decided 30 years ago, “OK, we’re gonna start forming and making these stories longer, and fitting characters in, so that there are things they will really and truly get to want to see and hear, just like a play.”

LEO: There have been so few comedians who have followed in that tradition. You’re kind of alone out there.
BC: (ruefully) Yeah.

LEO: Why do you think that is?
BC: Well, I think — look, it’s like the argument, “Can you teach comedy?” And the answer is, “Yes.” And then a big (roaring sound), “You can’t do that!” No, no, no — you’re talking about the people who can play Carnegie Hall. I’m talking about the ones you can sit in a classroom and you can teach them. Just like pianists who don’t make it to Carnegie Hall. You’ve got levels of people who can take lessons, learn, understand — but then it takes the special ones. And comedians are, many times, similar because it is show business … they’ll have a one-hit joke, or whatever, and never get another one … And I think there are more comedians than ever before because all these little clubs are around, and the source of entertainment is not necessarily “clean comedy.” It’s sort of like, “OK, people are ashamed, and putting their hands up to their mouths in embarrassment.” To just flat-out laughing out loud at the profanity and whatever, so there’s that level, which I sort of put not at … “burlesque” is not the word … yeah, burlesque! That’s burlesque comedy. Where you can actually say the curse words, for that reason. And until it was made legal, they couldn’t do it. Poor Lenny Bruce.

LEO: Don’t you think there’s been some merit to the ways George Carlin and Richard Pryor were able to use that language?
BC: OK, now, so that’s two (laughs).

LEO: Right.
BC: And they were vanguard. They were vanguard. Then came people who just heard that they could now curse. (Mr. Cosby sings a vampy fanfare).

LEO: Like you said, it’s a form of burlesque. It’s a different style of entertainment for a different crowd.
BC: Yeah! Yeah!

LEO: And you think it sets comedy back as an art form?
BC: No. No. The art form is unto itself. There are great performers who can say those words and they have the material to match. And they’re wonderful. I don’t name them. And then there are others who will always be at that level, where the guy walks out and says, “Do 15 minutes,” and they come out and they curse (laughs). “And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have a strong line-up of professional cursers …” And that’s entertainment!

Mr. Cosby then spent eight minutes teaching me more about how to be a good comedian, a lesson I will always treasure, if not necessarily use professionally.

Bill Cosby
Saturday, May 12
Kentucky Center for the Arts
501 W. Main St. • 584-7777
kentuckycenter.org
$42.50+; 7:30 p.m.

Photo by Erinn Cosby

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Pierced Arrows’ old-time rock ’n’ roll

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The golden garage rockers finally hit Louisville

At the age of 63, most rock musicians are expected to be retired, dead or continuing to desperately hit every state fair possible to bleed pennies out of those two hits from 1966. Most people aren’t Toody and Fred Cole.

The happily-ever-after couple are best known — to the very small group who know them at all — as the duo behind Dead Moon, a band from rural Oregon who lasted for 20 years and was the subject of a full-length documentary film in 2006 called Unknown Passage. While even most rock fans with some intact social skills can be forgiven for not being aware of Dead Moon, or the Coles’ latest band, Pierced Arrows, Pearl Jam are fans and have performed some of their songs. A Dead Moon song can be heard in the video game “EA Skate 3,” and Vice Records released the latest Pierced Arrows album, Descending Shadows. Their din of psychedelic garage rock might scare the average Pearl Jam fan, or inspire them.

Guitarist Fred Cole has been performing since his teens, scoring a minor hit with a group in the mid-’60s, in fact. He and Toody ran a music instrument shop and made their own records for many years, living simply out in the country with their three kids in what she refers to as “a creepy old place” when they weren’t touring Europe repeatedly, where they built a following they couldn’t locate in the United States. “We’ve got way too much shit to ever move again!” she exclaims.

Today Toody, the bassist, continues to work on many of the tour details, booking vehicles and hotels and maintaining their website and correspondence. Having never played Louisville before, Toody included Possibility City on her wish list when looking at routing for their current tour. “It’s always really exciting to hit a new town,” she notes, citing “the people, the club, the vibe of the thing” as what they seek out on the road.

“In the Dead Moon era, we were amazingly popular in Europe, we did extremely well. Now with Pierced Arrows, over the past five years, Europe doesn’t have the incredible turnouts that they use to. We’re playing smaller clubs, so it’s not too much different, at this point, from touring in the U.S. — except that it’s to see all the people we’ve grown with over the past 25 years, that’s still incredibly cool.”

Drummer Kelly Halliburton, whose father played in a band with Fred in the early ’70s, came back into the Coles’ lives shortly after Dead Moon broke up and kept them from retirement. Not that they needed much encouragement.

“I think that self-motivation, self-drive, is something you’re just born with,” says Toody. “As far as doing something for this long, loving it enough to go through the pain for the hour of fun and glory.”

The Coles have literally done it themselves for years, homesteading, building their store by hand, and hand-manufacturing each of their early records. “There’s a great sense of accomplishment to dabble with enough different things to where you know how to do a little bit of everything. When we first started doing it, it was an economic necessity, there was just no other way around it. Fred happens to be one of these renaissance kind of guys who loves learning how to do everything.”

The years are catching up, slowly but surely, for the grandparents (their oldest grandkid is already in college). “You get to the point where going up and down stairs, lifting heavy equipment, carrying gear and stuff, gets to be real old. But that was always a stress before. It bothers Fred more than it does me. We’re pretty lucky — Kelly’s a big strong kid, so he takes care of the big stuff, I take care of all the small stuff, and Fred takes care of 90 percent of the driving … We each have our own roles.”

So, at 63, how old do they feel?

“Probably about 50,” Toody replies with a hearty smoker’s laugh.

Pierced Arrows
with Don’t and Old Baby
Wednesday, May 16
Headliners Music Hall
1386 Lexington Road • 584-8088
headlinerslouisville.com
$10; 9 p.m.

Photo by Pod

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Jumping on the Bridge

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After four years of playing together, Audrey Cecil and Amanda Lucas have made it official. Their first album as Bridge 19, The Fall Back, is being released this week, with a performance at the Kentucky Center on Saturday (8 p.m., $10).

“Fans kept asking, ‘Where’s the CD with you both singing together? We want that.’ … We are friends first, bandmates second. We’ve been pals since we were little kids. It just so happens we have the ability to make pretty music and run a business together.”

As kids, both listened to the country music their parents enjoyed, and Cecil was also exposed to bluegrass and classic rock. As teens, both fell hard for Alanis Morissette. Lucas was also turned on by No Doubt and the Dave Matthews Band, while Cecil gravitated toward early Sheryl Crow. In college, “I really started getting obsessed with the stuff that shapes me now,” says Cecil. “Fleetwood Mac, Indigo Girls, Sarah McLachlan, Paul Simon.” Today, in their 20s, both listen to a lot of singer-songwriters. Lucas also cites pop/rock, while Cecil loves “a lot of classic R&B.”

LEO: How many of your songs about relationships are “happy” songs, lyrically?

AL: About half of the songs I’ve written about relationships are “happy” songs, lyrically. Sometimes the “happy” songs don’t make the cut for the album for various reasons — too slow, too cheesy, etc.

AC: Amanda’s definitely the one to answer this question. She’s got the relationship songwriting covered. My songs tend to fall all over the spectrum in terms of topics. Sometimes about relationships, sometimes not, sometimes written using a relationship as a metaphor for something else.

LEO: If you got fat, would you consider changing your name to Fridge 19?

AL & AC: We considered “Refrigerate After Opening” for a band name, so, yes, we would — but only if “fridge” is capitalized. How about FRIDGE 19.5?

Learn more at bridge19.com.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

MCA’s legacy

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Beastie Boy influenced and helped many as he evolved

When I was a young white boy, I hated the Beastie Boys.

In 1986, as their first album, Licensed to Ill, conquered the suburban world, the popular and/or stupid kids all around me constantly quoted them and tried to act as we saw them on MTV: drunk, crude and aggressive. They seemed no different to me than Mötley Crüe or Spuds MacKenzie.

Today, even a casual observer might know they evolved into a unique and genre-defying live band, and global ambassadors for freedom and tolerance. That first album was originally supposed to be titled Don’t Be a Faggot — and no one more than the Beasties themselves were glad, in hindsight, that their corporate bosses denied this juvenile notion. The trio came so far in their 30 years that one must imagine Snooki, at 50, as an internationally beloved poet, philosopher and our nation’s first female president, to fully comprehend what the Boys — Michael “Mike D” Diamond, Adam “Ad-Rock” Horovitz, and Adam “MCA” Yauch, who died last Friday — accomplished together.

Their initial success had led these well-educated sons of New York artists and teachers to forget that the frat boys they had become were not who they really were. The group, which began as a punk rock band before morphing into rappers, picked up their instruments again and started playing all the different music they loved: everything from punk to funk, pop to jazz, hip-hop to dub. Though their second album, Paul’s Boutique, was largely ignored in 1989, seen as a hitless attempt by a novelty act, it’s seen by many today as a defining, influential work.

Their third, Check Your Head, in 1992, was the album that, in many ways, changed my life. An unprecedented mélange of many different styles bouncing off each other while working together to create something entirely new, it opened my mind to the possibilities it presented. I read their liner notes and every interview to trace their inspirations to the sources, learning more about different cultures, from Jamaica to Japan, in the process. Their playful, subversive sense of humor restored, they started a record label and a magazine, both called Grand Royal, which furthered their view of the world as a big playground full of ideas and inspirations.

As Check and its even more popular follow-up, Ill Communication, took their place in popular culture, their success helped insecure college-aged me see that one can be successful doing what one enjoys, and thinks is right, even when others are telling us to do what we used to do, or what makes more sense on paper. Their apologies for past mistakes confirmed that I had been right to hate them, at the time, and was right to love them now.

Yauch, the oldest, was always the seeker, the George Harrison of the group. His yearnings and wanderings led to his embrace of Buddhism, which led to his work on behalf of Tibetan refugees, which led to meeting his wife, with whom he had a daughter. In his later years, he spoke out against war, and against stereotyping Muslims. He also, notably, rapped about respecting others and finding peace within.

When Yauch was diagnosed with cancer in 2009, at 44, it seemed unlikely that this mid-life scare could be more than that. But I have a friend a little under that age who has been fighting the same battle, and he, too, is one of the kindest, most gracious people I’ve ever encountered. This all makes me want to be more of an asshole, so I can live as long as Dick Cheney.

Photo by Phil Andelman

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Faun Fables plays with a younger crowd

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Some bands develop a special relationship with Louisville as they tour and tour again around this great nation. From the V-Roys and the Features to Faun Fables, friendships are formed and tours become routed around seeing Possibility City yet again. Faun Fables, the Oakland-based underground gypsy carnival “songtelling” group led by singer Dawn McCarthy and guitarist/partner Nils Frykdahl, is so confident in the fanbase they’ve established, they’re playing here on Derby night.

McCarthy may be best known for her collaboration with a Louisvillian, Bonnie “Prince” Billy, singing with him on most of his 2006 album The Letting Go. “I’m going to be doing sort of a surprise, kind of a secret record in Nashville. And you’ll hear more about that in the months to come,” McCarthy tells LEO.

LEO: I do know from your website that it’s with Mr. “Prince” Billy.
Dawn McCarthy: Oh, did I say that on the website? (laughs) Oh, god! I wonder if he’s OK with that. OK, I’m not going to say anything else about it ... but it doesn’t give out too much info, right?
LEO: It says it’s with him, and it’s for the holiday season. So, can I assume they’re holiday songs?
DM: You know, there is a song that is a holiday song ... But that’s a good idea, just do a whole holiday record. People rake in cash doing those holiday releases, you know? (laughs) Man, maybe that’ll be the next one for me and him.
I’ve been interested in the idea of writing my own holiday Yule/Christmas songs. I have one that was on the Light of a Vaster Dark record called “O Mary” that combines the Virgin Mary character in the time of Christ’s birth with winter solstice and the sun returning, the whole connection of those traditions. I love all that kind of stuff, I love digging in, past the Christian stuff, and seeing the connections of the traditions, and how all the modern holidays we celebrate are shreds of much older stuff — it’s interesting how much of that is out of the mainstream knowledge right now, and hopefully will come back more in years to come. I’d love to just write a bunch of songs to help with that process.

In recent years, McCarthy and Frykdahl have started a family, raising two daughters, which led to another new form of songwriting early each day. “We have a good breakfast. We have our bells we ring, we sing our breakfast song,” she laughs. “It’s a time, too, when Nils is around, he works later in the evening — so it’s a family time when we can all hang out together, and we dance and jump around. The girls have a costume trunk. We play, and change diapers, wait for the morning poops to happen. It’s good fun!”

The family is also looking forward to touring together, “at least until kindergarten starts up.” Part of the current challenge for Faun Fables is to win over some new fans, as some of their audience have also started families and can’t go out as much anymore.

“I’m interested in working with that, and being able to have venues and shows that are really family-friendly. I’d like to explore that more. I don’t need to do more smoky bar/nightclub adult playgrounds (laughs) — that doesn’t work for me at all anymore. I’ve had enough! Twenty years of it. So, it’s meeting a new population, and that’s nice, too. It’s nice to have a chance to be fresh, for new people, again.”

Faun Fables with Softcheque, Parlour, Ford Theater Reunion, Madame Machine, and w.n.b.a.
Saturday, May 5
The Mammoth • 744 S. 13th St.
$10; 7 p.m.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

New Now Next

After recording a demo as Jackalope, the band now called via animo has a new guitarist, and guitarist Kyle Thompson has switched to bass.

“I think we are a completely different band now, and I’m really excited about the new sound we have,” says Thompson. “Without sounding too pretentious, I think we went from being a boring four-chord punk band to having something that mixes the aesthetic of ’80s hardcore with indie rock ... That definitely sounds pretentious.”

Their new EP, This Courage Is Bittersweet, was recorded by Mike Stewart at the House of Wax last fall. They then sent it to J. Robbins, in Washington, D.C., for mixing. In addition to leading several influential bands of his own, including Jawbox, Robbins has also worked with Louisville’s Slamdek Records, and the bands Black Cross and Coliseum.

LEO: Did you get to work with J. Robbins in person?
KT: Unfortunately, we did not, due to time constraints and everyone’s school schedule. We did everything over the phone and email, but I still feel like he got a feel for what we are going for, and I’m super pleased on how the songs turned out … We’re stoked to be able to keep the Louisville/D.C. connection alive!

LEO: Who are some of your other favorite bands?
KT: Whenever we talk about covering songs, I notice that none of us listen to that much music in common. To me, two bands that have had a huge influence on how I approach via animo, especially live, are Hot Water Music and Fugazi.

LEO: Do you prefer playing house shows to playing in bars?
KT: There are definitely benefits to both. I feel like bars are a little more inviting; a lot of people are kind of hesitant to go to house shows sometimes because they can feel exclusive. But, with that being said, we definitely prefer house shows. We’re great friends with the people that live at those houses, and all-ages is a huge plus.

via animo will play a house show on Tuesday, May 8, in Louisville. Listen to the EP at facebook.com/viaanimo and buy it at viaanimo.bigcartel.com.

Here
c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Brendon Small's metal blasts

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When Brendon Small — the Berklee College of Music-trained guitarist and showrunner of the popular Adult Swim TV series “Metalocalypse” — decided to release his first solo album on April 29, he was advised to stick to the music industry practice of releasing albums on Tuesdays. The clean-cut, 37-year-old metalhead said no.

“I said, ‘I am gonna put out a record on a Sunday, because I don’t think anyone really gives a shit.’ Because I’m not putting it out in stores — it’s available for download on my website and a couple of other places where you can get it — I’m doing the whole thing myself. So I figured, ‘What’s the cleanest way for me to put this record out? When I have the new premiere of my series.’”

“Metalocalypse” returned for its fourth season last week, following the animated adventures of a popular and powerful death metal band called Dethklok. The series has released two soundtrack albums of music Small composed for the fake band, with him playing the real guitars. For his new album, Galaktikon, Small has done it himself, paying for everything from the other musicians to the mastering, because Adult Swim and their parent company, Time Warner, own the rights to all things “Metalocalypse,” and paying for — and owning — his own personal material is “cleaner,” Small says. “At some point, you want to own it yourself and not get six lawyers on a phone call.”

Adult Swim has been supportive in many other ways for Small. In 1999, the then-23-year-old was discovered by TV producer Loren Bouchard while performing in a Boston comedy club. Bouchard was looking for talent for his new animated series, “Home Movies,” and Small not only voiced and shared his name with that series’ main character, he also found ways to add his guitar playing to its soundtrack. As the show progressed over four seasons, Small’s music became heavier, more reflective of his personal obsession. That music birthed the idea for his follow-up series.

Though Small developed and runs the show, writes dialogue, does voice acting, and writes and performs music for “Metalocalypse,” he bristles at the term “control freak.”

“If a guy’s running a TV show and he’s not a control freak, that show’s gonna suck. I’ve known guys like that … You’re always only three bad decisions away from it all going down the toilet. I’m not a control freak with humans — I don’t tell ’em how to dress or how to speak or anything like that. (The show) has to be a certain way, or it’s not the thing.”

Commitment is a common thread between the music and the comedy. “(Real death metal band) Cannibal Corpse takes itself dead seriously. If it didn’t for a minute, it wouldn’t work. It’s almost like a great actor — they’re not gonna go, ‘I’m not really a wizard, but I’m playing one right now.’ You can’t drop the veneer, even for a second. I think even the people who find the ridiculousness fantastic will also be hurt by that. ‘Oh … they’re joking?’ You have to commit 100 percent in performance, album cover art, lyrics — all that stuff.”

Galaktikon is a concept album about a superhero going through a divorce. It’s more melodic than Dethklok’s brutal sounds, closer in sound to the ’80s European metal bands that thrilled Small as a teen.

“That young boy lives within me. It was such an important time for me, discovering metal and guitar; those are the years you start developing your personality and making choices.”

Small, who still performs comedy, understands the fine line most heavy metal walks between earnestness and parody, perhaps better than most. “It’s grandiose, and you’re giggling at it, as a 15-year-old, but you also recognize its awesomeness.”

Even in his youth, Small recognized metal’s cartoon-like qualities, theatricality and storytelling potential. For Small, creating a TV series like “Metalocalypse” seemed obvious: “If we hadn’t done it, somebody else would have, and that was part of my pitch. ‘Somebody else is going to fuck this up — we can do it right.’”

‘Metalocalypse’
Mondays at 12:15 a.m. on Adult Swim
metalocalypsetv.tumblr.com

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

The classics, Dammit

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The Dammit — that’s two Ms, no N — are a “swamp boogie” band who remember that music should be fun first. The veterans of several bands over the past 15 years are now celebrating the release of their first full-length album, playing Cahoots Saturday night with a promise of “free beer (while supplies last) when The Dammit starts their set!!” The evening begins at 9 p.m. Singer/guitarist Brian Leonard discusses their “ass-kickin’, boot-stompin’ good time” music with LEO.

LEO: The band calls its sound “swamp boogie.” What does that mean to you?
Brian Leonard: It’s like regular boogie but dirtier. You know what a Speckled Alabamian Sissy snake looks like? That’s what we sound like.

LEO: What have you all learned from past bands?
BL: Keep it simple. Over-thinking ruins everything. It twists things around, makes you worry, and makes everything seem a lot worse than it really is. Age and bourbon has helped us a great deal with that.

LEO: How does The Dammit fit into the modern music world?
BL: We have a tremendous amount of respect for modern bands and how hard they work for their success, but no one is really doing what we’re doing. We don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing; it’s just what we do. We were raised on the classics — artists like Waylon Jennings, R.L. Burnside, ZZ Top, Prince, and Hank Jr., to name just a few. I think the best way for us to contribute is to remind the modern music world how great the classic sounds make you feel.

LEO: What can Louisville expect from your live show?
BL: Our shows are typically a haze by the next day. We remember people dancing and screaming, but everything else gets lost in the fog. We just do what we love, and people tend to join in. We’re a four-person party with an open invitation.

Read your invitation at reverbnation.com/thedammit.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

JC Brooks brings the sound

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JC Brooks & the Uptown Sound are rising stars of the soul-rock revival movement that has also seen Alabama Shakes, Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings, and Fitz and the Tantrums find a home on NPR stations across the nation. So it’s fitting they return to Louisville, only four months since appearing as openers at Headliners, to headline this year’s inaugural “Waterfront Wednesday,” public radio station WFPK’s summer concert series.

“I’m really looking forward to ‘Waterfront Wednesday,’” Brooks told LEO last month. “I’m gonna cross my fingers, ‘Please don’t rain …’”

The band visited here in January for what Brooks called “a really great show” opening for JJ Grey & Mofro, and the frontman received an unexpected surprise. “I ran into an old friend from college that I didn’t even know was living down there. We had soundchecked and went to this little bar/restaurant near the venue, and she was actually eating there. She said, ‘Holy shit! I’m coming to see your show,’” mimicked Brooks, a theater-trained actor, in a high-pitched voice. “‘You cut your hair!’ You know, I guess you gotta expect people to change a little bit in 10 years.”

The Uptown Sound first became known not only for their dynamic ’60’s-style live show, but also for highlighting previously undetected flavor in Wilco’s “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart,” a cover which earned them a friendly relationship with that other Chicago-based band.

Though Brooks’ spirited vocals and the band’s sharp suits quickly define them as heirs to the Chicago soul throne, Brooks is quick to defer such labels. When asked if they feel more compatible with soul, garage rock or other mid-’60’s sounds, Brooks replied, “Because of the way we’re written up, I think that we’re all forced to identify with the soul scene; the word ‘soul’ dominates a lot of the conversations that we have about the band. But we all identify with a lot of different things — our influences are so varied.

“I don’t want to say that we don’t identify with the Chicago soul scene, but I also think that we’re a lot more than that. We’re trying to push the boundaries of what we do, just so as to not get mired in one genre.”

Brooks continued, “It’s not like we’re trying to write soul music. It’s just that that’s where we started, and we tend to slide into that groove, that pocket, but there’s also a lot of new stuff we’re doing that’s different. Hopefully, people will be pleasantly surprised,” he laughed, “as opposed to appalled when they hear it.”

So, how’s the live show?

“Umm … I don’t know … it’s a sweaty black dude that screams at you for an hour or so,” he laughed, clearly joking. “It’s kind of like watching ‘A Time to Kill: The Musical.’ Write it up like that! ‘A Time to Kill: The Musical,’ starring JC Brooks as Sam Jackson.

“No, no, no, it’s a lot of fun. All we wanna do is make people dance and then have a good time. I like connecting with crowds. I have a lot of fun doing my thing, and part of the fun is — don’t get me wrong, I love when the crowd is into it and comes out ready to dance and party and play — but part of the fun is actually trying to get a crowd that might be a little more reserved engaged. That’s the challenge … that’s where I actually have to work. The rest of it is just fun. I’m living the dream, dude.”

WFPK’s “Waterfront Wednesday” with JC Brooks & the Uptown Sound, Sugar & the Hi-Lows, The Tunesmiths
Waterfront Park
wfpk.org
Free; 6 p.m.
c. 2012 LEO Weekly

‘Real Housewife’ gambles for a good cause

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The Kentucky Derby has always attracted celebrities, though not some of the culture-defining figures one might expect. While fans of New York’s sports teams can depend on seeing Adam Sandler or Lady Gaga on an average day, and the Coachella music festival attracts hip movie stars, Derby has, historically, been most attractive to reality TV personalities, lesser-known rappers, fratboy chef Guy Fieri, and the like.

Vicki Gunvalson is a reality star visiting, and though she hasn’t had a career to rival Gaga’s, she has thrived over seven seasons with Bravo’s “The Real Housewives of Orange County,” the only original “cast member” left. Gunvalson has also distinguished herself as an insurance company owner, successful and self-sufficient regardless of the men in her life. She’s probably also the only “Housewife” open to speaking with a snarky alt-weekly in service of promoting her charitable work.

Vicki Gunvalson: You’re stationed in Louisville?
LEO: Yes.
VG: Wonderful. I love that city. It was the first time I had been there, last year, so I’m really excited to be coming back.

LEO: This poker tournament is a fundraiser for Blessings in a Backpack. How did you get involved with them?
VG: It’s a great charity, to be able to give these children an opportunity — so many children in the United States are missing out on so many things, and we’re always worried about other countries instead of taking care of our kids right here. I was part of this charity last year, and it just really struck a chord with me; I want to be part of it every year from now on. It’s a great way to see how it’s affecting people in real life, not just giving to a charity where you don’t know where it’s going. It’s helping these kids who are very vulnerable to their environment, and they can’t change it.

LEO: How good of a poker player are you?
VG: I am not good at all! I lasted two rounds of celebrity poker last year, and Nate from Boyz II Men was trying to help me (laughs), and it didn’t go too good. He had a real serious face on, and I said, “I don’t know, I’ll hit!” He said, “This isn’t blackjack.” At the end of the day, it’s about having fun …

That’s my take, especially after exposing my life on a reality TV show … you can’t take life too serious anymore, when the editing comes back and they do things that you never thought they would do … I just focus on giving back to others, and blessing others along the way in life is what we all should be doing. That’s my goal. And do a little “woo-hoo” along the way, right?

LEO: Did you interact with any other celebrities at Derby last year?
VG: You know what, it was actually quite funny — Prince Albert (of Monaco) had come up to me, in the midst of me just talking to other people, and he said to me, “I just really admire you and I love your show.” So I said, “Oh, thank you! Do you want a picture?” I didn’t know who he was (laughs). He says, “I’d love a picture.” … Anybody could come up to me, other than the country music artists, and I wouldn’t know ’em.

LEO: Do you follow the horses?
VG: No (laughs), are you kidding me? I just follow the outfits! It’s all about the outfits and who’s wearing what. That’s what I’m about.

The Derby Poker Championship takes place Thursday, May 3, at the Seelbach Hilton. For more info, go to derbypokerchampionship.com.

Photo by Michael Rosenthal

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

D-Trix — From dance to domination

Now entering its seventh season, MTV’s street-dance competition, “America’s Best Dance Crew,” has kept a mostly stable cast, with host Mario Lopez and regular judges J.C. Chasez, the former ’N Sync singer, and Lil Mama, the young rapper, in place from the beginning. Now in his second season on the judging panel, dancer Dominic “D-Trix” Sandoval has an especially unique perspective on what it takes to win, having earned the title three years ago with his group, Quest Crew.

“It’s something I take very seriously, because I come from that same world,” he tells LEO. “I care a lot about all the dancers; seeing them onstage reminds me of when I used to be on there, and how much it meant to me to win the show ... At the same time, I have a lot of fun with it.”

D-Trix, whose outgoing, goofy personality works well for television, has also competed on Fox’s “So You Think You Can Dance,” standing out for his flirtatious banter with host Cat Deely. It was only after he began entering TV competitions that D-Trix, self-taught as a hip-hop-inspired b-boy dancer, realized his ambitions went beyond being merely the coolest guy in the streets.

“I took b-boying seriously until ‘So You Think You Can Dance’ — that’s what changed my mind. I wanted to be an overall dancer. With that, I trained a lot, both as an individual and with a crew, and I just fell in love with dance in general. I think that’s really helped me get to where I’m at today, being able to judge dancers, ’cause I’ve studied. By being a street dancer, I can vouch for people on the show, and it’s all gone hand-in-hand. I never thought I’d be at this point.”

He continues to take classes in various forms of dance, going back to explore the roots of each style, while also expanding his performing skills on the YouTube channel YTF. The YTF group, a collective of comedians, singers and dancers who met after becoming YouTube mini-stars, is what D-Trix today calls his main job.

“We’re a bunch of friends, just hanging out, making dumb videos, and we’ve created a fan base online. With that, we want to spread the message of what YTF means to us, by touring and continuing to put out content. YTF is a group of friends who love being nerds online,” he laughs. “I think over the last year and a half, I haven’t really danced at all. I’ve been mostly just creating for YouTube, and, for me, my future is online.”

D-Trix acknowledges that a show like “Dance Crew,” which predominantly features young African-American and Asian-American street dancers, is a harder sell to mainstream America than a more traditional, faux-celebrity-driven dance program on a bigger network.

“It’s a sad thing. It’s probably because of the network, and who they cast on the show. It’s mostly an urban audience, and kids and teenagers, and it’s a very positive thing. It’s good for crews all over the world, and we stay off of the streets because we have crews and we dance. If people can understand that, they can appreciate it a little bit more.”

Dance crew Fanny Pak, a favorite from last year, is returning this season, the first defeated crew allowed to try again. “It’s amazing!” says D-Trix. “They want it really bad, and that’s the main reason why they did come back, they felt — and a lot of people felt — that they went home too early, and they’re back for redemption.”

So who will win?

“That’s a tough one. I don’t really have that answer yet ... It seems like a choreography team will win this. It might not be a crew that has crazy stunts, because, the first night, choreography alone was the most memorable. I think that’s a good thing — I think America needs to know that dancing isn’t always a double back-flip off the stage. And I’m a tricker, so for me to say that — I believe in crazy, dope stunts and crazy moments, but if you can blow people away with your choreography, that’s saying something else.

“But, that could change next week. You never know. That’s what’s amazing about this season is, you don’t know.”

‘America’s Best Dance Crew’
MTV. Wednesdays, 10 p.m.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Homemade by Woods

“I haven’t been to Louisville in years,” says Jarvis Taveniere, multi-instrumentalist for Woods. “I don’t think Woods has ever played there, actually. Me and Jeremy had an old band that played in a house ... I remember a café with a cow in front or something.”

Vocalist/guitarist Jeremy Earl founded Woods in 2005 and has evolved the band from a lo-fi project to a full-fledged folk-ish band, quickly picking up plenty of critical praise, including numerous comparisons to the Grateful Dead reborn as an indie rock band. A new split EP with Amps For Christ was released on April 17.

The Shrimper label, known for their collaborative pairings, released some of Woods’ early recordings and is also releasing the new split, though Earl also runs his own established label, Woodsist.

“We recorded a bunch of stuff last year for our last record that just didn’t really fit,” explains Taveniere. “We were looking for a home for it ... so we thought we could do something with this batch of songs.”

The split features some of Woods’ more abstract, collage-style sounds, “more acoustic, meditative,” says Taveniere, more appropriate when paired with Amps’ Henry Barnes. “I think Jeremy really relates to him … not touring, not playing a lot of shows, just making these cool records. That homemade quality; he does his own artwork ...

“That’s why it was so freeing to start Woods — just do everything ourselves, make the records we wanted to listen to. They tend to be the ones that cover a little bit more ground. We didn’t really work toward it, it was just something we knew we wanted.”

LEO: It seems that you’re in a very secure place now, especially putting out your own records —
JT: Yeah, we do what we want (laughs). I mean, I partially assume that that’s what everyone does. Maybe that’s naive of me, but I couldn’t imagine doing things I didn’t want to do. Outside of just compromising with my friends and bandmates for the greater good.

LEO: Some bands do ...
JT: Maybe if there was more money at stake, or I was a younger man, I could get in a situation like that ...
I try to treat every project with that innocence, like it’s the first time. The fact that Jeremy and me are still friends and really enjoy getting together and playing music, after this long, I think says something. Might not work for everybody, but it’s how we’re doing it.

LEO: How do you keep that as you get older?
JT: You find little glimpses of it. Definitely, making records in a home environment, I still feel that same ... I don’t know, it just feels right ... You’re listening back to something on a 4-track, and you’re like, “Let’s start working on some cover art!” I’d love to retain that innocence and excitement.

LEO: Hand-stuffing the records?
JT: Ugh, yeah, no more of that. But everything else.

WOODS WITH MMOSS AND GANGLY YOUTH
Sunday, April 22
Zanzabar
2100 S. Preston St. • 635-9227
zanzabarlouisville.com • $10; 9 p.m.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Bear In Heaven’s dizzy dance days

Bear In Heaven’s members live in New York now, but all grew up in the South. Drummer Joe Stickney grew up in Alabama — he’s so Southern, his mom was in a book club with Jimmy Buffett’s mom. LEO spoke with him from the band’s rehearsal space in New York on the eve of their current tour.

Bear In Heaven’s third album, I Love You, It’s Cool, was released two weeks ago to positive reviews, part of an organic evolution the band has gone through from an arty rock group to a more overtly dance-based electro-pop group. The band also gained attention for how they previewed the album online, slowing it down 400,000 percent for streaming — the intended pop heard as 2,700 nonstop hours of drone — that played out between December and early April, as a “comment on the current state of album promotion, hype cycles, countdowns and all the marketing ploys that we accept as a reality of existing within an Internet age.”

LEO: The new album has a very 1980s European feel, and you told someone that you weren’t “feeling as testosterone-y” this time out.
Joe Stickney: Yeah, yeah! I think we all would agree with that. We’re not, like, a bunch of super testosterone-y dudes; I mean, we like college football, but we’re not aggro people. I think the last record definitely had a lot of heavier, cathartic … this one is coming from a more low-key place.

LEO: In terms of subject matter, or musically? Musically, it’s pretty upbeat.
JS: I just mean, like, low-key emotionally. It’s not coming out of a tempest of crazy emotions. I feel like it’s pretty calm. It’s upbeat, for sure, but I think it’s calm in the overall emotional content.

LEO: More calm because you’re more successful now, as a band?
JS: Well, that has yet to become easy (laughs). I think it definitely comes from where we’re at, at this point. We all came to better terms with everybody’s roles in the band, how we can make things work more smoothly. We’re all working together as a good team at this point, and it’s pretty smooth — you hit snags, but it’s pretty smooth sailing so far. I think that definitely is going to influence the kind of stuff you’re doing.

LEO: How’s the live show going to look this time out?
JS: We’re trying to amp up the whole synesthetic experience, have the lights and the music play off the way — where they create a greater whole than the sum of their parts. You know the end of (the movie) “2001: A Space Odyssey”? If you just listen to the music, it’s great; if you just look at the visuals, it’s great. The combination of that is, “Holy shit!” Your mind’s blowing. We’re hopefully going to be able to achieve something like that … Hopefully everything works together to make an experience that you can’t get just from the record. That’s the idea — the live show should be something different, but equally stimulating to the record. If you just get up there and play the songs exactly like the record, it’s like, “OK, well, that was louder than my stereo can play … and I got to watch the people doin’ it. Other than that, it’s not very interesting.” We want to try and bring a little bit more.

LEO: Speaking of visuals, the video you guys did for the new song “The Reflection of You” made me dizzy.
JS: A lot of people have that reaction! Personally, it doesn’t really affect me in that way, but I’ve got pretty solid equilibrium, I think (laughs) … I think it’s great. I love hearing people’s reactions to it, too, because the reactions are definitely extreme, in both directions. There’s not a lot of people who feel lukewarm about it. I’ll take that.

BEAR IN HEAVEN
WITH DOLDRUMS AND BLOUSE
Friday, April 20
Zanzabar
2100 S. Preston St. • 635-9227
zanzabarlouisville.com
$10; 9 p.m.

Photo by Shawn Brackbill

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

album review: Seluah

A Spiderland for a new generation, Seluah’s long-gestating first full-length album is nothing short of a masterpiece. A hypothetical soundtrack for a chilling, sexed-up Nicholas Ray film noir filled with double-crossings, misbegotten sex and stolen money, Red Parole is a precise, sensual overload of cutting riffs, floating rhythms and haunting vocals. While the well-sequenced album progresses with a steady tone, close inspection reveals that every note has been carefully placed and executed. Some songs begin slowly, building up steam until they explode with just the right amount of ferocity; “Hell and Back,” with its galloping, rockabilly-in-the-Old-West pace, is the most obvious exception to what could be called Seluah’s formula, while some (especially closer “Elysian Fields”) will haunt you for a long, beautiful time. If you only trust LEO once this year, this is that time.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

album review: Joel Henderson

Joel Henderson
Locked Doors & Pretty Fences
TROUBLECURE



In popular music, the awkward years come between 35 and 50 — too young to be a grizzled vet, too old to be hungry and fresh-eyed, just right to begin the Dad Rock years. Thankfully, Joel Henderson does a surprisingly lively variation on the genre, employing skilled accompanists to support his confident, engaged performance. While Henderson’s themes are universal and time-proven (relationships, growing up, etc. — y’know, Springsteen without the social justice), his blending of middle-aged folk and youthful pop-rock, a la Ron Sexsmith, often works. Heidi Gluck’s backing vocals especially help keep it interesting, and Mick Sullivan (banjo) and Bill Mallers (keyboards) outshine the rest of the band, alumns of John Prine, Buddy Miller, Over the Rhine, and The Lemonheads. This record was years in the making; it’s not quite Woodford Reserve, but this collection aged well.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Red Baraat’s culture club

The nine-piece Brooklyn-based “dhol ’n’ brass” band Red Baraat has turned heads in their four years together, fusing traditional sounds from India with inner-city funk rhythms, utilizing only brass and percussion instruments. Their second studio album, Shruggy Ji, will be released later this year. LEO asks dholi Sunny Jain about how they operate.

LEO: Kentucky audiences might recognize some of your formula from New Orleans jazz or marching bands, or Latin salsa dance bands; Red Baraat fuses this with some traditional Indian sounds, Bollywood riffs as well as dining favorites. How much of this fusion was calculated to bring in a larger audience, as opposed to focusing on one genre and appealing to just that audience?

Sunny Jain: Yes, you’ll definitely hear some of what you described, but the truth is, having seen brass bands in the streets of India during childhood visits, I wanted to meld those sounds with the American sounds of funk, jazz, go-go, hip-hop, rock. Red Baraat was really something that was a natural progression in my creative process. For me, music serves as a bridge for the two cultures I grew up with — the Indian culture and American culture. Growing up, I had always had difficulty balancing or intertwining these two cultures, and music has always served as my expression and attempt to deal with that.

So while I was leading a jazz quartet as a drum-set player for the past 10 years, I found myself gravitating toward the dhol drum. In the fall of 2008, I started up Red Baraat with the intention of creating a large, acoustic band that brought a powerful, primal sound. As I started thinking of instrumentation, I also knew I wanted a wide variety of musical voices, and to make up the sound of Red Baraat with no electrified instruments — just drums and horns. It’s the guys in the band that collectively make up the sound of Red Baraat.

Regardless of musical background, one will find something to connect with in our sound. It’s a real musical collection reflecting global unity, which is not only found in the make-up of the band, but also in our fans.

LEO: For those not yet familiar with words like “dhol,” can you explain it and how it helps define your sound?

SJ: The dhol is a barrel-shaped wooden shell drum with two heads: one high and one low. It slings over my shoulder and hangs about waist-high. I play the drum with two sticks. The high side is played with a very thin bamboo stick, and the low side with a thick, curved stick. The dhol is synonymous with Punjabi culture and Bhangra music. It’s a loud, festive, outdoor drum, and it dates back to the 15th century in India. The dhol drum is the signature sound of the band.

LEO: You made a very good album in a studio, then went back and put some of those same songs on a live album that does a better job of capturing the true live essence of the band. Now you’ve raised money through Kickstarter for a second studio album. Why did you decide to record again in a studio?

SJ: Recording live and in a studio are two different animals, and I think we’ll continue to do both. I enjoy recording in the studio because it allows us to experiment with a composition. It then also gives me that great opportunity to experiment with the music in post-production, which sometimes leads to new ways in approaching a song. Recording in the studio is much more of a project and process that requires more time and thought dedicated to what I want the “original” version to sound like.

A live recording is different in that we are much more focused on playing the show and, typically, we are playing songs that we have already learned, as opposed to experimenting with the arrangement, like in the studio … Now, that’s not to say that a live recording isn’t given proper attention or isn’t as important. That’s definitely not the case. It’s just that there are different focuses with either approach. Another key difference is that since improvisation is a key component to our music, we will typically stretch out our songs a bit more during a live show.

Red Baraat
Thursday, April 12
Kentucky Center for the Arts
501 W. Main St. • 584-7777
kentuckycenter.org
$22.50; 8 p.m.

Photo by Amy Touchette

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Joan Shelley, Brides maiden

Having performed with singer-songwriters Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore, and with vocal folkies Maiden Radio, and after starting a new relationship and a new band of her own, singer-songwriter and guitarist/banjoist Joan Shelley is in a much different space now than when she released her first solo album in 2010. Shelley welcomes the release of her second album, Ginko, a more experienced and assured follow-up, with her band, the June Brides, at the Rud on Saturday.

LEO: How have you grown from the first to second albums?

Joan Shelley: When I recorded the first record, I had only recently moved back to town and was just starting to meet the people I know now. While finishing up that record, I started playing the banjo more with the girls in Maiden Radio. I then met (guitarists) Joe Manning and Nathan Salsburg, and shared the stage a few times with Ben Sollee and Daniel Martin Moore. After two years, I’d gotten to marinate in some of the rich musical talent of this city, watching and listening to my friends and their music — original music and record collections.

When we recorded the second album, a lot of those friends came in to work on these songs with me. Their influence has been a crucial change in the sound of the albums. Then, my songwriting style is always changing alongside that.

LEO: This album was recorded more than a year ago. What took so long?

JS: The recording was completed over the course of two months. Once we finished it, there was the question of how to find enough support to release the record in a way we thought it deserved. The record labels I knew before were not biting. And it was jarring to leave the recording world, where we worked hard to make something graceful and beautiful, and then try to be the salesman for it. Some people are really good at that. I hope to improve. The happy ending to our story is that the record found a nice place on Daniel Martin Moore’s new label, Ol Kentuck. It’s small and new, but he’s sharp, and I trust him and like to work with him. I consider those the most crucial points in any arrangement like this, especially when the focus is creativity in music or any art form.

LEO: Do you still feel as connected to these songs?

JS: I am, very much so. Playing them with the June Brides has made these songs new creatures. Now we get to focus on the arrangements and instrumentation. Then I’ll stumble back upon the lyrics and their meanings. It’s interesting.

LEO: Your boyfriend (Joe Manning, a LEO columnist) is also a songwriter, singer and guitarist. How competitive, or cooperative, is that for you both?

JS: I can be competitive, but not so much with him. We don’t approach creative tasks the same way; his style is much different — his approach to songwriting, his guitar playing. We’re bound to have strong opinions about the same things. But, thankfully, we’re pretty adaptable and complementary to each other. He’s my No. 1 when I need a second opinion. Now he’s joined the June Brides once again, and it’s really filled out the band in just the perfect way — we’re all so glad to have him. We do group high-fives all the time. Or, at least, the sentiment is there.

Joan Shelley and the June Brides with Catherine Irwin and The Hollows
Saturday, April 14
The Rudyard Kipling
422 W. Oak St. • 636-1311
therudyardkipling.com
$8; 8 p.m.

Seluah returns to the dark side

Noir-inspired, ethereal rock band Seluah broke up early in the Bush era, leaving only one popular EP behind. They reunited in 2010, and, after an almost Axl Rose-esque wait, Seluah has finally delivered their debut full-length album, Red Parole, through local label Karate Body Records. It’s about as far from Chinese Democracy as one could ask: smart, intense, moving, full of memorable riffs and grooves, and well worth the wait. They celebrate with a Friday performance at WFPK’s “Live Lunch,” at U of L’s Red Barn, and with a nighttime show at Zanzabar on Sunday. LEO caught up with guitarist Andrew Killmeier.

LEO: The EP was released in October 2002. What have the guys been doing since then?

Andrew Killmeier: We split up when I moved to Los Angeles in 2004. I was there for six years working in the film industry, not playing any music. I moved back to Louisville a year and a half ago after the economy went to hell, and we just started playing together again without even really discussing it — just picked up where we left off, so to speak.

LEO: Reviews of the first EP often cite trip-hop, shoegaze and similar aspects, but the new album has more heavy guitar riffs. How has the sound shifted, and what inspired those changes?

AK: The simplest explanation is that I used to play a lot more keyboard and sampler in the old Seluah. When we got back together, I basically told the other guys to shove the synth up their asses; I was going back to the guitar with a vengeance. I still play both guitar and keys, but the balance has certainly shifted toward the dark side of the six-string. I’m older and more ornery than I used to be.

LEO: The band is notably cinematic in sound and scope. How have movies influenced the music?

AK: We all love fine cinema — and some lousy cinema as well. We’ve always paid attention to great scores and composers of film music — in particular, Angelo Badalamenti, Bernard Hermann, Cliff Martinez and Ennio Morricone. Sometimes a narrative element is necessary in music, and Red Parole is certainly a noir album. If I had to think about it, I’d say we approach our work from an atmospheric element, as opposed to setting out to “write a song,” though we aren’t particularly deliberate in anything we do. Everything is permitted.

LEO: For several years, many considered Seluah to be Louisville’s great lost band. Were the members aware of their legacy?

AK: I’ve always thought we were a good band — an original and soulful band. But I never thought much about any legacy. The small number of people who happened to see us play back in the day and the people who bought our old EP have always been very supportive and vocal about their appreciation. Sometimes I wonder about those six lost years, what could’ve been had we stayed together, but I listen to what we’ve done on Red Parole, I hear how intense it is, and I believe all our crooked respective paths were necessary to get us to this destination. And I don’t wish to be anywhere else.

Seluah with Sea Hero
Sunday, April 15
Zanzabar
2100 S. Preston St. • 635-9227
zanzabarlouisville.com
$8; 9 p.m.

X love

Scott Shuffitt is known as a co-founder of Lebowski Fest, but he’s also a filmmaker. His documentary about the struggles faced by ear X-tacy and other record stores in the digital age, “Brick and Mortar and Love,” premieres at the Louisville Science Center on Friday, April 7, at 7 p.m.

LEO: How has ear X-tacy influenced your life?

Scott Shuffitt: The first time I went into ear X-tacy, I was totally blown away. I had never seen anything like it — there was so much cool stuff to take in. I used to consign T-shirts there in my 20s. It’s where I learned about Elvis Costello and the Budos Band, and I miss it.

LEO: How much was (owner) John Timmons willing to open up about the struggles as they were ongoing?

SS: I feel he was very open to me; even when he was getting nailed with comments on the Internet and a lot of people would have taken shelter, he still let me in. I can’t think of one time when he denied me access or didn’t answer a question during an interview.

LEO: Did employees fully know what was happening? Or did they just talk to you about their feelings about ear X-tacy and record stores in general?

SS: Just like with any business, some employees knew more than others, but most of my questions were about how they felt, and what they thought the future would look like for the store and what they were doing to work out this situation.

LEO: What do you think is the future of record stores? How will they look in 10 years?

SS: This is a question I asked a lot of folks while filming, and I don’t know if I ever got the answer I wanted. For some record stores, things aren’t going to change much. There will certainly be more really great shops that will close, but, at the same time, new shops are opening and bringing new and fresh ideas. Old or new, they have to be on their A-game if they are going to stay open.

Visit brickandmortarandlove.com for more information.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

album review: Mark Lanegan

If tears were liquor, I’d’ve drunk myself sick, Lanegan sings in “St. Louis Elegy,” and such a worldview does a pretty good job summing up this album. For all who love Johnny Cash, Tom Waits or Nick Cave, Mark Lanegan is a name you should know by now. The great singer has made another great album, his first solo effort in eight years, and, while still soaked in the same whiskey and heroin that fed earlier work, this collection is a fine introduction to his various stages: killing floor blues, Leonard Cohen folk, dance-floor industrial textures, and his hometown grunge psychedelia. It’s no wonder that influential figures like Kurt Cobain, Josh Homme and PJ Harvey have worked to impress him. Blues Funeral is a welcome return from an artist who has, thankfully, survived 25 years of following his own pretty/ugly muse.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Natural Child: Northbound and up

The trio Natural Child is a force, known as much for their onstage banter as their pure rock attack. For this interview, they chose to speak with LEO via speakerphone, which was entertaining, though a challenge to properly document. Because we were never quite sure who was saying what, we assigned a number to each after the fact for your reading ease and enjoyment.

LEO: I heard your new record —
NC1: We’re proud of it, we made it all ourselves. Yeah, we think it sounds great.

LEO: You made it all yourself, but there is a cover song, Tom T. Hall’s “That’s How I Got to Memphis.” Why did you include that?
NC1: We were just listenin’ to it a lot, and we thought it’d be cool to cover it.
NC2: Yeah. It’s a great song. We just dug it. We were just playin’ it at practice, I think, and just decided our version sounded really good to us. So we covered it.

LEO: It’s interesting, because it’s a country song about Memphis, and you’re a rock band in Nashville, a country town —
NC1: We’re a country band! (laughs)
NC2: Yeah, a little bit. We dabble. We cover Willie Nelson and Kris Kristofferson — we do it all.
NC1: We’re kind of a country band, too.

LEO: You’ve played Louisville recently.
NC1: Yeah, we’ve played there a couple times.
NC2: We’ve played there twice.
NC1: Twice, yeah. We’ve done all this touring but only been to Louisville twice.

LEO: That’s weird.
NC1: That last place we played was awesome, though — the arcade bar, the one with all the arcade games.

LEO: Zanzabar.
NC1: Yeah, yeah, Zanzabar. That was it, am I right?
NC2: I think so.

LEO: Yeah, you are.
NC1: That place fuckin’ rules. It’s very cool.
NC2: Hell yeah!

LEO: Do you have any advice for young producers?
NC1: Just take your time to make it how you want it to sound. Just turn the knobs, push the dials and ... yeah.
NC2: Not try to make it sound like …
NC3: We try to make it sound like what we listen to.
NC1: Yeah.
NC3: Which is a bunch of really warm 8-tracks.
NC1: We record other bands in Nashville, too. We can make anybody sound that good (laughs).

LEO: (laughs) Is that your slogan?
NC1: Yeah, yeah: “We’ll record shit. We can make anybody sound that good.”
NC2: It’s true.

LEO: Before we go, do you want to say something to Louisville?
NC1: We’re comin’ to git ya! (laughs)
NC2: Our neighbors to the north ...
NC1: We’re comin’ to git ya, our neighbors to the north! (laughs)

LEO: That sounds kind of threatening.
NC1: No, it’s positive! Like when you call your mom and you’re 8 years old, and you’re, like, “I need to be picked up.” And she’s, like, “OK, I’m comin’ to git ya!” Like that.
NC2: I didn’t really mean it like that. I meant it like, when you call your mom and you’re like, (threatening voice), “I’m comin’ to git ya ...” (laughs)
NC3: We’re comin’ to git ya, Louisville.

NATURAL CHILD WITH
THE LADYBIRDS
Saturday, March 31
Zanzabar
2100 S. Preston St. • 635-9227
zanzabarlouisville.com
$6; 9 p.m.

C. 2012 LEO Weekly

Madame Machine’s parts

What do you call a new machine featuring men and women who’ve played with Black Cross, Lucky Pineapple and Venus Trap? Madame Machine play a record release show at Third Street Dive Friday at 10 p.m. LEO asks bassist Salena Filichia about it.

LEO: As “supergroups” go, is Madame Machine more Traveling Wilburys, Chickenfoot or Wild Flag?
Salena Filichia: Hmmm ... I don’t think that we have the egos to be in a band like Chickenfoot. For that matter, we also didn’t meet while “jamming” at Sammy Hagar’s club, Cabo Wabo, in Mexico. We aren’t necessarily poets like the guys in the Traveling Wilburys, and we haven’t, for the sake of performance, decided to change our last name to Madame or Machine — but we are old. We have a lot more keyboards than Wild Flag ... Maybe we would be like the Wild Wilburys.

LEO: What do you hate most about lyrics and/or vocals?
SF: Lyrics are one of the hardest things to come up with. I think that when you have people who aren’t necessarily the front people in their previous bands, music comes naturally, but lyrics take some work. I think anyone writing lyrics probably puts a lot of pressure on themselves to come up with something creative that doesn’t sound trite. I feel like it’s word-roulette in that, a lot of the time, you have to pick the first words that come to your head, and hope that you don’t lose everything in the music because you picked the wrong words.

LEO: Why did you want to work with local label Noise Pollution, as opposed to DIY-ing your first 7-inch?
SF: We had worked with them in the past on our previous projects. Brandon and Nathan are really great guys and are very helpful. While we were getting ready to find a place to press the records and print the sleeves, we had reached out to Brandon and Nathan for advice. We kept asking them for suggestions and contacts. In the end, we knew that they had a greater ability than we do of getting some word out there.

Learn more at facebook.com/MadameMachineBand.

Photo by Lisa Oechsli

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Never an adult moment

Chrissy Murderbot is on my plane.

En route to my first South by Southwest (SXSW), my eyes seek out notable musicians also making their way to the 25th annual music conference and festival in Austin, Texas. In this distorted world, a DJ like Mr. Murderbot counts as a celebrity (well, enough), though not compared to actual names your mom knows, like Bruce Springsteen, Norah Jones or Jay-Z. The conference, established to help new bands get discovered by the music industry and break out internationally, has also become a magnet for big fish looking to get a lot of buzz going quickly amongst 16,000 of the most dedicated music professionals in the game.

While Springsteen’s keynote address and live, full band performance dominated some of the conversation, new bands about to break through, like the Southern soul-rock band Alabama Shakes and the Austin-based next Hendrix, Gary Clark Jr., also earned attention. New Orleans legend Dr. John used the event as a platform for his Black Keys-produced comeback, and the Shins and Fiona Apple re-emerged, this time as influential veterans. At the same time, representatives from Taiwan to Tel Aviv hosted parties, and corporate sponsors shoved their products down the throats of the throngs, from Austin’s Dell Computers to the grotesque Doritos “Jacked Stage,” a tower-sized stage shaped like a vending machine, hosting hip-hoppers like the GZA and Snoop Dogg while encouraging punters to eat chips from planters designed to look like trees … but filled with Doritos.

For first-timers, the event can be overwhelming, as 2,000-plus acts play at more than 100 locations over four days. Those attempting it without good walking shoes and plenty of water soon learned that, like a 14-year-old on his sixth beer, there can, indeed, be too much of a good thing. One detail that makes this quasi-conference unique is that, for the most part, it’s open to the public — if not in some venues, then at least on the streets leading to those. So, true music lovers must often run through a gauntlet — a la “Escape from New York” or “The Hunger Games” — of blitzed sorority girls downtown wanting to see or be seen … just not so interested in the music.

The height of the contradictory nature of the event was found Friday night, as a tragically drunk 30-ish woman vomited violently all over her seat during a performance by the band The War On Drugs. The irony was likely lost on her at the moment.

It’s a veritable “Sophie’s Choice” of auditory pleasures. Louisville’s raucous rockers Natives played Wednesday night at the same time as Sharon Van Etten, Big K.R.I.T., Natural Child, Thee Oh Sees, and Dessa, any one of which would alone constitute a great night of music in Louisville. While many showcases were arranged sensibly by label, genre or region, some were thrown together randomly, leading to puzzled Latin dance music fans waiting for an acoustic Magnetic Fields to finish so that Colombia’s Bomba Estereo could begin. A long line kept LEO from getting to see Deafheaven’s symphonic metal set, but it could be heard clearly outside, proving to be an odd pairing with punk vets OFF!, who followed.

A half-dozen other Louisvillians also performed, including Cheyenne Marie Mize, Bro. Stephen, Justin Lewis, Houndmouth, Trophy Wives and Coliseum, plus ex-locals The Phantom Family Halo and VHS or Beta. Other locals, representing Crash Avenue, The Kentucky Center, Music WithMe, Production Simple, sonaBlast!, and WFPK, also joined in the sights, sounds, barbecue and breakfast tacos.

And there was certainly plenty to see, from the plentiful pedicab operators (some of whom dressed to distinguish themselves from the crowd, like the Mexican-American “Where’s Waldo?” and the oft-seen Wonder Woman-costumed gal) and the young team giving out free sushi on the street, to the ironic hipster tribute to Whitney Houston during Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr.’s set, the girls holding signs offering “Free shrugs,” and the guy in a thick crowd of walkers overheard on his cell saying, “I took a paternity test, and it’s not mine — which is not what I expected and not the way I wanted it to go.” And LEO didn’t even get to see the riot that broke out at rapper A$AP Rocky’s 3 a.m. set Saturday night. As disco-punk Gossip singer Beth Ditto exclaimed about the teen idol turned evangelist, “I wish Kirk Cameron was here to see this.”

Photo by Ron Jasin

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

The new country

Country favorites The Bottom Sop can be seen Wednesdays at Baxter’s and Thursdays at the Highlands Tap Room; this Saturday night at the Tap Room, they celebrate a record release show and a “Barn Party USA” TV taping. Singer/guitarist Derrick Manley tells LEO about their plans.

LEO: Explain your name for the good folks.

Derrick Manley: Bottom Sop is actually a type of red-eye gravy used in Southern cooking that mixes the drippings from country ham and leftover strong black coffee. It’s served over grits, ham and whatever else you want to mix in. You basically “sop up” everything together with a biscuit to eat it. Supposedly Andrew Jackson requested gravy as red as his cook’s eyes, which were bloodshot from drinking the night before, and the coffee was added to wake everyone up from their hangover. I feel like it’s a good fit for our music; it’s a big mix of Southern influences, and sometimes it’s the best thing to go with a long night of honky-tonkin’.

LEO: Tell me about these new songs.

DM: We began by covering classic duets from the ’40s, ’50s and ’60s as our base, and eventually began working new originals into our set. This CD represents some of our new material. These are brand new songs that reference that classic country sound, but they’re new takes on that sound. You can still hear the traditions found in the music of George Jones, Tammy Wynette and Tennessee Ernie Ford, but I don’t feel like we’re just treading over that ground again. It’s mixing all the old influences of songs about heartbreak and dancing all night — with that instrumentation — but I feel like we’re writing what modern country can be. We’re not playing as a “classic country” act; the songs are what new country music in 2012 should be. A song like “Bright Kentucky Moon,” to me, takes a bit from this and that, but it’s got some rock ’n’ roll to it, too.

Read more of this interview at bluecat.leoweekly.com.

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Fantasy ‘League’ star on anger and the NCAA

Long Island native Steve Rannazzisi broke out as a cast member on “The League,” FX’s popular and acclaimed comedy series about a 30-something group of friends who are also members of a fantasy football league. He brings his stand-up to The Improv this week.

LEO: When is “The League” back?
Steve Rannazzisi: We start shooting again in the middle of July, and then we’ll be back again in the fall. Right around the time football starts is usually when we come back.

LEO: Do you have any TV or movie projects coming up?
SR: I sold this web series to My Damn Channel that will be coming out maybe middle of April. We haven’t set a launch date yet.

LEO: What’s it about?
SR: It’s called “Daddy Knows Best,” and it’s a series of shorts about horrific parent decisions. It’s about a guy who hasn’t really grown up and now has a son, who’s 3, and has to figure out how to maneuver that life.

LEO: Are you married in real life?
SR: I am, yeah, and I have a 3-year-old, and we have another one on the way in a month.

LEO: Your character is the heart of “The League,” the most normal of all the characters. Do you agree?
SR: (laughs) Yes, I kind of do agree with that. Though, the fact that I’m the most normal person on the show is very scary. I guess you would consider me the adult of the group, the closest thing to an adult that our group of friends has.

LEO: As a stand-up, how normal can you actually be? I guess you’re a really good actor? Or are you one of the more normal stand-ups?
SR: I feel like I am more on the normal side of stand-ups. My parents are still together, I like them, I’m married, I’ve got a kid, I don’t really have a drug problem … I’m sort of more normal, but I have anger issues. I’m probably bipolar, if I really looked at it, but I won’t, because … why?

LEO: What kind of anger do you have?
SR: Things make me upset, and I have to learn patience. I don’t deal with mistakes very well. I mean, I don’t, like, hit people, but I get frustrated very fast.

LEO: That sounds pretty normal for a stand-up.
SR: Yeah, of course — that’s what makes us really observational. The stuff I talk about is what upsets me sometimes … what’s making me upset, and why it’s making me upset.

LEO: How long have you done stand-up, and how has it evolved as you’ve learned?
SR: I’ve been doing it a little over 10 years now, and I realized, I’m just now finding my voice. It takes a long time. I did well for a long time, but doing well and enjoying your time on stage sometimes aren’t the same thing. You can do well and figure out tricks and things, but I’ve been going through a growth spurt lately, where I’m trying to do more stuff I find interesting — and also helping the audience find it interesting, as well. I think that in the last couple of years I’ve really found my voice. It’s specific to who I am, which is what I’m enjoying about it right now.

LEO: Do you think you’ve gotten more confidence from being on a successful show, where you’re encouraged to improvise a lot?
SR: Yes and no. Yes, because it’s nice to have people in the audience who know who you are, who came specifically for you. Then again, I feel like there’s more pressure now. People pay good money to come out and see you. You want to put on a good show and have everyone enjoy it, so I find that to be a little more stressful. Confidence comes from knowing that what you think is funny other people think is funny, too. I do have more confidence on stage, but it’s because I’m more comfortable on stage.

LEO: Anything else you’d like to say to Louisville?
SR: I’m psyched to come back. I haven’t been there in, like, three years. I’m hoping that Louisville is still in the NCAA Tournament when I’m there.

Steve Rannazzisi
March 22-25
The Improv
Fourth Street Live
581-1332
improvlouisville.com
$15-$17; various times

c. 2012 LEO Weekly

Winterpills spring again

Winterpills, a melodic, sometimes ethereal chamber pop/indie rock band based in Northampton, Mass., is led by a married couple, singer/guitarist Philip Price and singer/keyboardist Flora Reed. Their fifth full-length album, All My Lovely Goners, was released on Valentine’s Day. Price and Reed stop over in Louisville for a duo show after shaking their sticks at the South by Southwest conference in Texas.

LEO: How many times have you gone to South by Southwest?

Philip Price: This is the third or fourth time, I think. We took a couple years off because … I don’t know, too many tacos, I guess (laughs).

LEO: So, you have a new record out now. Do you have any fun stories about making it?

PP: Well, we did it all at home. We spent a couple years putting together a studio in our house — which, by studio standards, is still pretty minimal and home-cooked, but for us seems awesome. The main investments being an amazing microphone and a great tube pre-amp, and we just kind of ran everything through that. That made all the difference.

The songs were almost all written three years ago — after our last album, and even before that EP we put out in 2010. The band had a brief lull where, I think, we were trying to reassess what was going on. Not that anything horrible had happened — it was a period of uncertainty that lasted a year. Just all of us heading in slightly different directions for a while … There were weddings, people having babies, a couple band members moving further away …

There was a period where I was trying to figure out if the next thing was a solo record or … I wrote all these songs, toured that, and then after it was all written and demoed, I realize they were pretty much exactly songs for Winterpills to play (laughs). To call it a solo record, it really needs to be saying something different, and it wasn’t. It really felt like, “Wow, this is actually the next step for the band.”

It’s a long evolution for me, as a songwriter, to make music that isn’t, you know, bullshit. I’m also not, like, a plain-spoken songwriter. “Bullshit,” to me, doesn’t mean purely minimal, it means something much more ornate. Or baroque, even.

LEO: Baroque lyrically, or musically, or both?

PP: I would call this one more elaborate arrangements … Certain decisions were made that were a little more complicated. Our first record was a very minimal affair, and I don’t think we’ve completely let go of that, and we can go back to that, but there is some kind of shift going on … (laughs) I don’t know what I’m talking about …

LEO: How much of that music came from your own writing and arranging, and how much of it became collaborative?

PP: I would say pretty much 50/50, but I was writing differently — partly, having listened to too much prog rock when I was a kid, I ended up writing songs like (adopts silly voice) “It’s a concept album! Oh, I see how the songs are linked!” I couldn’t not make links between the songs and some sort of overarching meaning. That was inherent in the songwriting, this theme of maybe war, or people dealing years beyond after tremendous losses occurred, almost some kind of emotional reconstruction era-thing going on … but then, a lot of these came to the band, and they definitely changed.

We had a lot of rehearsals where we tried to make decisions for the band that would stick for live shows. I think a lot of songs would sound good in the studio, and then we found that we couldn’t really play them live, and still haven’t played. We were like, “We want to be able to play all these songs!” (laughs) I just broke a drumstick, I was gesticulating wildly.

So, that was our goal with those rehearsals, and a lot of shit happened during those rehearsals; I got mad because they were changing the songs too much, and then I went back and realized, “Oh my god, this is so much better.” We ended up keeping a lot of that, a lot of the oddness.

Winterpills with Artis Gilmore
Sunday, March 18
Uncle Slayton’s
1017 E. Broadway • 657-9555
winterpills.com
$8 adv., $10 DOS; 8 p.m.

Photo by Henning Ohlenbusch

c. 2012 LEO Weekly