2003-04 Vital Source Mag – April 2003
Kelp Chofs Takes GbV on The Road Less Traveled
By Kelp Chofs Sweat. Grime. Arms. Legs. Face. Had the air-conditioning even been working in John’s ’80’s-something Toyota it may not have done much good on that sweltering day in the Summer of ‘97. John and I were bandmates (and still are) driving out of St. Louis toward a show in Iowa City. Were we on tour? Well, technically not. We had left our hometown of Milwaukee the day before to catch a show in St. Louis. Another band’s show. A Guided By Voices show. My first. The plan was to catch GbV (as the hip refer to them) then motor away toward Iowa City to dish out our own brand of rock and roll. The rest of our band would catch up with us there. For me, the soundtrack for that weekend was GbV’s Mag Earwhig! It was the latest addition to their already stunning catalog. That made it a top-pick among their other releases and bootlegs littering the car floor among the remnants of our fast-food sins. After settling into a particularly, um, quaint St. Louis Motel 6, we headed over to the club early for lack of anything better to do. Arriving early did serve a purpose — we had to buy tickets. Well, I did. John had gotten his online before we left. Yup, I was the last-minute addition to his plan. I remember the city streets being exceptionally quiet during those dusk hours. Businesses were all closed for the most part. Hell, we had to walk a mile just to find a bar that was open. We certainly weren’t in Milwaukee anymore. “Two Rolling Rocks, please.” We walked back to the club to find the box office still closed. But John did spot Pete Jameson. Pete was GbV’s right-hand man. Surely if we struck up a conversation with him, explaining how we’d driven 400 miles to the show, he’d make sure I got a ticket. As it turned out, the show was nowhere near sold-out. But as we were to find out, that was a good thing. St. Louis’ The Galaxy club was much smaller than I imagined it. But that was also to be a good thing. After tolerating the unusually pedestrian opening act, GbV began to set up. Who were they? Who played what? Is that Pete Jameson putting an ice-filled cooler of Rolling Rocks on the drum riser? The show started, guitars and cigarettes blazing. Never before had I been treated to such an intimate and powerful rock ‘n’ roll show. This was it. This was the real thing. The intensity. Right in front of me. I could touch it. I could barely contain myself. Wicked voodoo indeed. “Two Rolling Rocks, please.” “Two Rolling Rocks, please.” “Two Rolling Rocks, please…” John and I made several jokes on the trip down about his training me for this show – making sure I was familiar with most of the songs GbV might be performing. And a fine job he did. The revolving door of […]
Apr 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
St. Thomas
By Jeremy Saperstein I’ve gotta start this review with the same thing I’m sure every other review will start with: singer/songwriter Thomas Hansen sounds remarkably like Neil Young, in lyrics, delivery and musical construction. Okay, now that’s out of the way… If you’re already fond of the works of Mr. Young, the odds are good you’ll very much like St. Thomas as well. Formed in Norway, the band’s record is like nothing so much as country music or Americana, but from the land of the fjords, not Fords (sorry, I couldn’t resist). Without knowing him personally, I’d have to guess that English is not Hansen’s mother tongue, which leads to some inspired lyrics like: I’ve never seen a cowboy before Never told a story so sore Hey, baby, take a look at me I think I’m ready for the kick-down I can never give you in Have you ever seen my chin An umbrella is dancing on the corner Now everything is beyond her But it’s easy to poke fun at people who don’t use English well (late night talk show hosts prove that about our president every night). St. Thomas is exactly the sort of record to listen to in your car as you drive I-94 late at night between LaCrosse and Tomah, or in the echoes of your empty house after your lover has left, or if you can’t understand why other people think your Nick Drake records are depressing.
Apr 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Nuna
By Jeremy Saperstein This Milwaukee trio delivers an extremely energetic and catchy disk that seems to defy pigeonholing under any convenient label. Because they’re a trio and their music offers many of the dynamic shifts that Nirvana (and the Pixies before them) did in their ascendancy, I’m sure most critics will identify them as grunge, but there’s a quality to the songs that transcends easy categorization. While leader/singer/songwriter Nuna Minch has a tendency to use the ‘f’ word as a conversational stop gap (like some people say ‘uh’ ), he has a definite way with a pop tune as evidenced in the lilting instrumentation and sing-along melodies in “Nose Candy”. While Headcase is a fine disk on its own, I’m looking forward to watching Nuna grow and expand (and to seeing them live – they play in the area fairly frequently, according to their website).
Apr 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Greg Koch
By Brian Barney When Greg Koch was in the third grade, he cut out a cardboard guitar, and while using a sewing machine foot controller as a makeshift wah, proceeded to emulate Jimi Hendrix. Yeah, sure, we all did that, but Koch kept the delirium alive and went on to become one of the best and most original guitarists to ever pick up an axe. His latest release is a collection of songs, not quite songs, and spoken word that mixes music, mayhem and Kocks’ wet/dry sense of humor into a gelatinous substance called Radio Free Gristle. From its’ opening track, “The Mansqwatch Chronicles”, where a Steve Vai-like tone rides over the top of a friendly yet frightening arrangement of chord meets discord, to the last, “Your Blues” (do the math); the disc reads like a hard-boiled crime caper that you can’t put down. Standout cuts like “Chopin’s Redneck Hideaway” and “The Joy of Ax”, show Koch’s amazing approach and a style that simply can’t be categorized; where scales derail, and madness becomes melodic. Interspersed throughout the record are snippets of spoken word that range from the hilarious to the unexplainable (mostly hilarious). Koch is a Frank Zappa type for today with his musical prowess and humorous musings, and, while Radio Free Gristle will probably never reach the mainstream, fans are in for a treat with Greg Koch’s most complete work to date.
Apr 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
