2003-05 Vital Source Mag – May 2003
Brent Gohde’s Funeral March
By Brent Gohde I don’t know about you, but when I was sixteen, it was a virtue to be more morbid than the next guy. At lunch one day, I think it was Eric Thompson who posited the question of what song we wanted played at our funeral. If there was a vote, I think Metallica’s “Enter Sandman” would have won. Pearl Jam’s “Alive” was too obvious. Unable to resist a punch line, even – I figured – in death, I went with Alice in Chains’ “Man in the Box.” Ha ha. Good one, Gohde. I’m sure we discussed for a minute the logistics of editing out the “s” word from the lyrics while it plays in church. But we forgot about it, went to geometry, got beat up in gym, and at the end of the day, headed to the parking lot. Cliques parked in their own unofficially designated areas each day, so we were all together. And my friends and I would have been tuned to Lazer 103. We started the engines at the same time, and what song was on, but Alice in Chains’ “Man in the Box.” All of us opened our doors, put one foot on the pavement, looked over our roofs at each other. “Dude, Gohde’s totally gonna die.” But as it happens, God doesn’t tip you off via commercial radio when your time has come. That only happens in horror films and college level creative writing assignments. But I persevered, thanks in part to extremely defensive driving on the way home. And since then, I’ve lightened up more and more. If you’d asked me again a few years ago, I would have said “Spiritual,” this beautiful song by Spain, later recorded by Johnny Cash. My friend’s band also covered it, and I drunkenly made him promise me he would play it at my funeral. It would bring the house down. A plea to Jesus from a man who doesn’t want to die alone? Not a dry eye in the house. Oh, baby. Now that’s a funeral. More recently that would have given way to straight up not-tap-dancing-around-the-subject-at-hand Joy Division, just because I really liked Joy Division for a while. But I have this awful image of my grandma having to cover her ears. So maybe I should just defer to my grandma on this. But New Order sounds nicer these days. Yes, a nice funeral-slash-dance party. And you all can have a great time, and I’ll… well… the odd thing is this: I’ll care. I’d love to report that it makes no never mind to me, and “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” or Christina Aguilera, I’ll never know the difference. But it turns out there’s still a very self-involved part of me that demands a decent soundtrack to accompany the weeping and gnashing of teeth of the thousands of mourners who will certainly throw themselves at my casket/urn and regale the assembled masses with eulogies of my genius and courage. Hymns schmymns, let there […]
May 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Confessions of an Old Paperboy
By Andrew Hollis I found myself unable to sleep one night last week, which resulted in my wandering aimlessly around the house in the ghostly predawn hours. I finally settled in on the couch to watch an old black and white on the tube when I heard a muffled but distinct “thud” just outside my front door. Upon investigation, it turned out to be the early morning delivery of the Sunday Journal. I stood, barefooted on the frosty porch, strangely transfixed. There it was – clinically wrapped in blue plastic, catapulted all the way from a shiny white truck driven by a tired-looking man in his late thirties. At this moment, childhood memories of my life and times as a paperboy for the Milwaukee Journal came flooding back to me. Ah, the good old days! First off, for those that may have forgotten or were simply unaware, in the not too distant past, gangly boys aged 12-16, once delivered the daily paper right inside your door. For many a middle-aged man like me, this was their first “real” job, an entrepreneurial rite of passage and a ticket to get out of the house (and onto the streets) that your mother couldn’t argue with. The newspaper designated routes and established regional managers to ensure papers were delivered to homes on these routes from “stations” scattered across the city, better know to us paperboys as “shacks.” The shack for my route was on 25th and Morgan – a short bicycle ride from my home in the Southlawn Housing Project. Seven days a week, three hundred and sixty five days a year, me and hundreds of other paperboys across Milwaukee would spill out of our shacks and into the pre-dawn morning like raccoons, making our way across empty streets and playgrounds and into quiet neighborhoods to deliver our routes. Back then, routes were handed down from generation to generation like family heirlooms and good ones were hard to come by. A perfect route (a paperboy’s Xanadu) was a big route with only apartments. You couldn’t do better. Next best were those closest to your shack or routes that took you through neighborhoods where your friends hung out. There were some routes where it felt you had to walk to Illinois to drop off your first paper. I was somewhat lucky – I had a route with half apartments, but still a hike from the shack. Life at the shack. A paperboy lives in two worlds: the shack, and out on his own – on his route. The manager who ran our shack held our unfailing respect, primarily because he was the biggest ox of the neighborhood. The shack was akin to a nuclear fallout station: a 15 x 30 foot steel box with a pitched roof and riveted doors at each end. The inside was lined with military surplus type steel tables, the kind you would find in the County Morgue, standing on a chewed up wooden plank floor. Overhead hung a large […]
May 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
ADULT.
By Haven Langhout ADULT. is the real-life couple Nicola Kuperus and Adam Lee Miller and a variety of undisclosed electronic music gear. Anxiety Always is their second full-length EP, their first being 2001’s Resuscitation. Like its predecessor, Anxiety Always features more songs about alienation and anxiety, but this album has a more human touch to it. Perhaps it’s the addition of a bass guitar played by Adam Lee Miller. It’s not strictly computers and gear anymore. Or maybe it’s because Nicola Kuperus’ vocal style isn’t as deadpan and flat as in the past. She actually has an inflection when her voice isn’t being fed through some processor. In “Kick in the Shin” she sounds a bit wounded delivering the lines “kick in the shin, is that how you say I love you?” – a definite departure from her previously emotionless delivery on other ADULT. releases. ADULT. has a sense of humor. I’d like to think so with the lyrics on “Turn Your Back” where Kuperus taunts us “Could’ve been me, could’ve been you – neh neh neh, neh neh neh.” Or on the track “Shake Your Head” where Kuperus admonishes us to “ask your mother, the end of guessing games.” The stand-out track on this album is “Glue Your Eyelids Together”, a catchy tune with a nice dirty bass line and the chorus “glue your eyelids together!” There’s almost a manic punkish energy to it. I prefer Resuscitation because of its sparse, clinical quality, and it took me awhile to warm up to this album. Perhaps it’s because it gets a bit too “busy” in some tracks and Kuperus can sound shrill at times. But if you like this sort of music and keep in mind that ADULT. is being tongue in cheek, you’ll definitely enjoy this album, and it would make a fine addition to your collection.
May 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
May 2003
By Jon Anne Willow Dear Readers, It’s been a month of highs and lows, a state of being which seems to be going around. Science buffs may recall here the first law of thermodynamics, which states that energy under normal conditions cannot be created or destroyed, but simply transformed from one type of energy to another. Sounds kind of astral to apply physics to events and feelings, maybe, but I’ve never seen a reason why such a sound law wouldn’t apply across the board. So, while I’ve got lots to be thankful for in terms of Vital’s progress this month, we’ve also felt the stresses that always accompany troubled times, when people aren’t feeling quite themselves, are worried about the future, and feel cut off from the sense of surety that generally accompanies life in America. On the other hand, applying the above law, maybe there’s hope in loss of complacency. But anyway, enough of that. We’d like to thank everyone who came out for our first birthday party at Onopa (see pictures below, or visit our web site for a full gallery). The bands were amazing, the food delicious, and the party-goers looked beautiful. As the song goes “Everybody had a good time.” We raised a good piece of change for 91.7 WMSE, to which all proceeds from the night were given. We also gave away a trip for two to Las Vegas from Funjet vacations and lots of other prizes from our local sponsors. We’ll see you again next year. At long last our web site is up and running. Check us out at vitalsourcemag.com. In the coming weeks, in addition to reading, printing and sending your friends articles and features from Vital Source magazine, you’ll be able to write your own book, film, theater and music reviews, rant in 50 Words, give us Your 2 Cents, sign up for our email list and much more. Check back often, as we’ll also update Vital’s Picks throughout the month. This month’s cover story is from Andrew Hollis, a former paperboy and petty larcenist. Confessions of an Old Paperboy will bring back memories of youth, even if you never experienced news carrier life yourself. We The People explores whether it’s realistic to “teach” a love of democracy to an ancient theocratic society. Today, Iraq. Tomorrow, the world? We continue to hone Vital Culture, and our commitment to covering the arts community beyond their events schedule. You’ll find more ink dedicated to the important outreach work our arts groups do throughout the year, as well as season announcements, employment openings, auditions and more. We hope you like it. Peace, Jon Anne
May 1st, 2003 by Jon Anne Willow
Fatal Flying Guiloteens
By Jeremy Saperstein I’ve discovered the lost link between Captain Beefheart and Raw Power-era Iggy. They tell me these boys put on hellaciously fierce live shows, and I don’t doubt that, based on this record. Listening to it on headphones in a roomful of innocent fellow humans, I’m tempted to either go into a catatonic state or a frothing seizure. Maybe both. Not for everyone.
May 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
All Girl Summer Fun Band
By Greg Sampson For a time I thought it unfortunate for the girls of All Girl Summer Fun Band that I remembered their 2002 self-titled release mostly for its lukewarm reception by many critics. I remember hearing the album myself, and while I found their music catchy and even pleasant, my overall reaction could not be characterized as much more than, well, underwhelmed. It wasn’t long before I moved on to other bands who I thought were doing something more interesting and meaningful, whose music had more depth than the giggly, bubblegum punk that AGSFB were turning out. Remembering the arrogant conclusion I jumped to last year, AGSFB’s latest release, 2, really sounds like a straight-out ‘screw you’ to all the self-righteous critics who dismissed them as being too girly, too high-school, and their music too thin. In this album they’re still singing about the same crushes and make out sessions, and have even added some celebrity worship into the mix (get this: they wrote a song called – you know it – “Jason Lee.”). But in this album they sound surer of themselves, more like they know that yes, this is in fact the music they want to be making, and these are the things they want to be singing about. They don’t care what I, or any other critic for that matter, thinks. Good for them. The subtle bad attitude they exude seems to work for AGSFB on this album, and it makes 2 compelling and listenable. Only the truly heartless wouldn’t find a song like “Samantha Secret Agent” so catchy that it didn’t merit a second listening. By staying on the same road on which they started with their first album, they seem to have created a sense of progression with this release, which is a good thing. But now that they’ve shown they aren’t going to change for the critics, the big question is whether AGSFB will change for themselves. As we all know, the novelty of a band and the catchiness of its music is a fleeting thing, and audiences are notoriously fickle when that’s all there is to hang on to. So they will have to change, or they will disappear. The good news? All Girl Summer Fun Band is more than attitude, catchiness, and late-teens/early-twenties romanticism. Something might be happening in 2, just below the rigid adherence to their undergraduate ways. I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw some real growth in their music in the future.
May 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Who’s Your Mama
By Lucky Tomaszek Here it is, finally. Spring! The warm weather is calling my family outdoors, into the warmth and sunshine. I am particularly fond of the month of May, which brings several family birthdays and my wedding anniversary with it. I feel surrounded by the love of my children and my husband as the days get longer and we celebrate the new life all around us. Mother’s Day also falls in May. Families nationwide celebrate the love and care mothers give their children. It also happens to be the busiest long distance phone calling and flower delivery day of the year. Most everyone sends mini-love letters tucked into the floral arrangement for Mom. The packages come from all over the country and most arrive on time. Think about this phenomenon for a moment. While I think it’s wonderful that we are all so appreciative of our mothers, I find it a little sad that we are so far away from them. As a nation, we are separated from our immediate families in a way that has never before been so complete. In the not too distant past, most of us would have said Happy Mother’s Day over coffee in the family kitchen or given Mom a corsage and a warm hug before Sunday dinner. Unfortunately, our society is now structured in such a way that it is highly unlikely we’ll get back to our multigenerational roots anytime in the foreseeable future. So many women to celebrate in May So I think it’s no coincidence that in May, with many of us being deprived of the close physical presence of the women in our family, we also pay to tribute to some health care workers who devote themselves to helping women. National Midwives’ Day is May 5th, Nurse’s Day is May 6th, and doulas around the country spend the entire month celebrating Doula Month. Midwives, nurses and doulas are all very dear to me, as each has played a vital role in my life, and in the lives of most of the mothers I know. The midwife attends the expecting mother through her pregnancy and birth. She is a calming presence, offering reassuring and practical advice. Midwives spend time listening to each question and sharing information. They become emotionally vested in both the physical and emotional well being of their pregnant clients. While the midwife is a highly-trained health care provider specializing in normal birth, a lot of what she does used to be done by the expectant woman’s own mother or auntie. In the same vein, the doula has surfaced in this country and around the world as a key figure in the early days of motherhood. Some doulas work with pregnant women and attend births as a key support figure. Birth doulas answer questions during pregnancy and help mothers know what to expect during birth. They are a continuous nurturing presence that women find very important. Postpartum doulas come in to the home just after the baby is […]
May 1st, 2003 by Lucky Tomaszek
MC Honky
By Jeremy Saperstein "Sonnet No. 3 (Like A Duck)" has an irrepressible beat that combines physical fitness records, orchestral stabs and Shakespeare, while "Soft Velvety ‘Fer" seamlessly melds a very disturbing series of telephone answering machine messages with a backing track that recalls the Beatles’ "Flying"; while "3 Turntables & 2 Microphones" could be a rejoinder to Beck written and performed by his own bad self.
May 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Marc Broussard
By Brian Barney Marc Broussard first hit the stage at age five, joining his father, Hall of Fame guitarist Ted Broussard to belt out “Johnnie B. Goode.” Fifteen years later, he has become one of the brightest young talents to ever cause a record company bidding war. His legacy goes back to his grandfather, Albert, and influences within his family (most of whom are musicians) include primo Motown and classic jazz fusion. His debut release, Momentary Setback, is an eight-song collection of introspective, soulful songs that belie his young years. Broussard is the male answer to Nora Jones. His music is where Otis Redding meets Leo Kottke in a style that, with its depth, and the nature of his over-the-top songwriting and vocal prowess, is hard to pigeonhole. The opening track, “The Wanderer,” sets the tone with rich vocal lines that flirt with pop sensibilities bordering on mainstream. A Stevie Wonder funkiness resides in “Blue Jeans”, and the closing number, “Jeremiah’s Prayer,” steals the show with a happy/sad melancholy. Throughout the disc, stunning musicianship shines with drummer Mike Birch’s mastery of dynamics, David Ransons’ fluid bass lines, perfect placement by Shawn Carter on piano, and the drenching Hammond B3 organ of David Egan. The only problem with the disc is that it’s too short. Hopefully, due recognition will take place, and a major deal will see to it that Broussard’s vision doesn’t fade.
May 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
White Stripes
By Jeremy Saperstein A college chum and I used to earnestly discuss how Guns’N’Roses were most certainly the future of rock. Paul Westerberg of the Replacements once said something like “Most bands stand outside and throw stones at the house; I think we have a chance to throw ‘em out from the inside”. I remember being blissfully happy, then slightly addled, then feeling angry and usurped when advance copies of Nirvana’s “Nevermind” played on the stereo in every record store I visited, back in that day. Does the new White Stripes record sound like any of these artists? Is that why I’m bringing them up? Well, no. The feeling of new discovery is really the thing here. Odds are you’re at least passing familiar with the Stripes’ schtick by now: boy & girl/guitar & drums duo, playing the hell out of some well-written and unique originals, not straying too far from roots in basements and garages all over the world. Elephant is all of that, for sure, but more. Indeed, it’s the record on which the Stripes begin delivering on all of the potential & hype they’ve been saddled with. “There’s No Home For You Here” with it’s fist-pumping 60s vocals and taut playing (including electric piano filigrees!) is my early favorite, but “Seven Nation Army” (the first single) and “Well It’s True That We Love One Another” (which features guest vocals by Holly Golightly) are climbing in my view as well. This ‘un is a good ‘un, to paraphrase Otis Rush.
May 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Can we teach Iraq to live (and love) democracy?
By Paul McLeary Democracy, being the big, wonderful, scary beast of a political system that it is, can please some of the people some of the time, but not all of the people all of the time. For all the lip service paid to its’ being beholden to the will of the people, a democratic system can also have wildly unexpected consequences – Hitler was a democratically elected leader, after all. Likewise, now that Iraq has been liberated and we’re gearing up to install democratic institutions in that repressed country, things may not be as rosy as some pundits make it seem. What if they elect someone we don’t like? Try this on for size: What do you think would happen if the first free elections in Iraq produced a victory for a nationalist or anti-western Islamic party like the one that currently rules Iran? Would we let the people choose a regime antagonistic to a western presence in the region? It’s a tough question, and one I hope the Bush administration has war-gamed, though staying true to form, they haven’t addressed the issue in public as of yet. The fact of the matter is that if Osama bin Laden were on the ballot in Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Afghanistan, Pakistan or any number of middle eastern countries, he’d likely win in a landslide. Signs of fierce Islamic nationalism have already begun to show up. On Friday, April 18th, only days after Baghdad fell, tens of thousands of residents took to the streets of the capital city to demand coalition withdrawal from the country and the establishment of an Islamic state. The demonstrators carried signs reading “No Bush, No Saddam, Yes to Islam,” and “No to America, No to Secular State, Yes to Islamic State.” Led by a group calling itself the Iraqi National United Front, the protesters represented a facet of Iraqi life –Islamic fundamentalism – that hasn’t been discussed much in the American media. Although full of unrealistic bluster (one man said if the Americans weren’t out in a few months, Iraqis would “kill them with our knives”), history has shown that there’s nothing more dangerous than a cornered dog. A democratic Iraq: the ultimate “square one” While democratic institutions may seem easy enough to create and maintain from our extremely fortunate perspective, certain preconditions normally need to be met before a real democracy can take hold – preconditions which are, at present, not only completely absent from Iraqi society, but Middle Eastern society in general. In the administration’s favorite examples of successful democratic nation-building, post-war Japan and Germany, conditions were far different than in Iraq. Both countries had a large, educated and entrepreneurial middle class, high literacy rates, an existing industrial base, familiarity with western political traditions and political history, remnants of a free press and a largely secular society familiar with the rapid political and economic changes of the 20th century. In contrast, Iraq has virtually no educated middle class from which to draw upon to begin […]
May 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
