2005-10 Vital Source Mag – October 2005
Liz Phair
“I don’t have to say what I’m thinking, because the radio’s on and everyone’s heard my latest song.” From “Got My Own Thing” At the water cooler of a figurative Music Lovers World Headquarters, two Liz Phairs are discussed. The first Liz will never overcome the happy accident of having penned one of rock’s all-time greatest debut records. This Liz now makes stylistically confusing records that disappoint the “fans” who’ve known her since “when,” who are always on the brink of giving up on her but can’t quite. The other Liz stands straight, ready to spit in your eye or (worse) turn her back on you if you don’t like her shit, which has been about her and her own creative process – not you – all along. It is the second Liz who made Somebody’s Miracle. Miracle brilliantly connects the dots of Phair’s past work and frames all within the context of an artist who finally, fully understands her creative voice. Its 14 songs are an amalgam of frank self-understanding and third-person narrative, and Phair deftly mines the territory she first tapped in earnest in whitechocolatespacegg, creating characters so real their stories seem autobiographical. Her guitar is also back from its one-record hiatus, complete with Phair’s signature quirky picking style, still charmingly evocative of a passionate teen playing on the foot of her bed. Overall, it’s a simpler record than 2003’s self-titled release, though its polished production values send a clear message about the evolution of Phair’s musical direction: she’s moving forward. You can come if you want to. VS
Oct 1st, 2005 by Jon Anne Willow
Heidi Spencer
By “Anybody willing to go out on a limb/ Winter is calling and I’m calling you in.” From the opening line of her sophomore album, Milwaukee filmmaker and musician Heidi Spencer asks us to enter her world of long winters, starry nights and lovers who are leaving or already gone. It’s filled with the beauty found in sadness, in long drives on rainy nights, or in the nostalgia of past relationships that haunt the heart. The Luck We Made delves even deeper into the pathos Spencer began documenting with her excellent debut Matches and Valentines. Vulnerability, loneliness, longing and the pressure of expectations are not new subjects for Spencer, but here she accepts them with a dreamy optimism. Every song is fully realized, a rarity for a record of such emotional weight that is also so catchy. Production props must be given to Bill Curtis; he expanded the textures and atmospherics. Cello, slide guitar, lap steel, piano, upright bass and Curtis’s nuanced drumming weave in and out of Spencer’s rippling acoustic guitar, but her voice is truly the perfect instrument here. Somewhere between Tori Amos and Mazzy Star’s Hope Sandoval with a dash of Dolly Parton, Heidi Spencer is a folk-country-dream pop anomaly. She moves from whisper to breathy purr to high lonesome and back with control and an idiosyncratic phrasing that makes her unique. The Luck We Made is available locally at Atomic Records. VS
Oct 1st, 2005 by Vital Archives
Girls’ Night Out
By Lucky Tomaszek I think I’ve mentioned before that I love the Indigo Girls. L-o-v-e them. Can’t quite get enough, actually. As a result, their music plays in our house on an almost daily basis. I have all of their CDs, as well as a bunch of live stuff that I’ve downloaded (legally). I cook to the Girls, I clean to them, I read to them, I write to them. It’s the background music of my life. My children share my love of the Girls, but probably because it’s the music they’re familiar with. Just as I know and love every word to the Jesus Christ Superstar soundtrack and all the songs on Buffy Saint Marie’s Great Hits because my mom played those two albums almost endless for years. I’ve seen the Girls perform live about 10 times. I try to make the show every time they’re in the area, and every time I come away from the concert feeling all full of love and other good stuff. Well … OK.Back in 2003, my oldest daughter Lena (then seven years old) asked if she could join me for a show. I hemmed and hawed about it. Was a concert at the Riverside appropriate for a seven year-old? Would she talk through it? Did I want to give up one of my rare chances for a kid-free evening? In the end, we ended-up with an extra ticket and I decided to give it a shot. I have good kids; they’re well-behaved and have a deep appreciation for music. Rehearsing for the show.The 24 hours before the concert, Lena played all the Indigo Girls music in the house. She wanted to be able to “sing along,” she said. She danced around the dining room where my little CD player was and practiced singing until she knew all the words. She asked me what she should wear. And then she asked her dad, her Auntie Jon and my best friend Becca. When it was time to go, she was ready, a little heady from the excitement [Ed. Note: she was hyper. But very cute. Jon Anne, a.k.a. Auntie Jon], but ready. The night of the show was freezing, with wind whipping up Wisconsin Avenue and burning our fingers and cheeks as we walked the four blocks from our car. Lena trudged along cheerfully next to us, not even complaining about the cold as much as we grown-ups. When we got inside and went to find our seats, there was the unmistakable stench of vomit. Someone had thrown up in the aisle we had to walk down. Lena picked her way around it, with just one question. “Mama? Does that happen at a lot of concerts?” Our seats were excellent, 5th row, Emily side (meaning we were to the right of the center of the stage). Lena was glad that we were on “Emily side” because Emily’s her favorite. We sat and chatted ‘til the lights went down and then Lena took my hand […]
Oct 1st, 2005 by Lucky Tomaszek
Death Cab For Cutie
By Eric Lewin Death Cab for Cutie‘s Transatlanticism was the indie gorilla that kept hope alive for pop music; it seemed back on the upswing. A band with R.E.M.’s unique combination of indie smarts and pop sensibility had finally come home to roost. Even more hopeful is the notion that DCFC could match or, dare we dream, trump themselves with Plans. Is it possible? Well, not yet. Plans picks and chooses elements from DCFC’s back catalogue, and the results are hit and miss. Still remaining is Ben Gibbard’s melodic genius, which has very few contemporary rivals. “I Will Follow You into the Dark,” a beautiful acoustic number, might be the Prozac generation’s first wedding song. “Your Heart is An Empty Room” revisits some of Death Cab’s better baroque offerings and even steals a piano fill from Transatlanticism’s “Lightness.” Did they think no one would notice? Noted success aside, DCFC’s straying from their signature nuances is like watching a fastball pitcher try a split-finger knuckler – some of their liberties end up on the wrong side of the fence. The virtuosic homage to Rush at the end of “Different Names for the Same Thing” is an irrelevant coda to a bland song. Also gone is a good deal of DCFC’s pessimism: “Someday You Will Be Loved” is an enthusiastic goodbye to bad memories, for better or worse. After all, it’s hard to be sad when you’re getting shout-outs from Seth Cohen. Smile, My Space kids. Your favorite band will smile with you. DEATH CAB FOR CUTIEPlansAtlanticwww.deathcabforcutie.com Death Cab for Cutie‘s Transatlanticism was the indie gorilla that kept hope alive for pop music; it seemed back on the upswing. A band with R.E.M.’s unique combination of indie smarts and pop sensibility had finally come home to roost. Even more hopeful is the notion that DCFC could match or, dare we dream, trump themselves with Plans. Is it possible? Well, not yet. Plans picks and chooses elements from DCFC’s back catalogue, and the results are hit and miss. Still remaining is Ben Gibbard’s melodic genius, which has very few contemporary rivals. “I Will Follow You into the Dark,” a beautiful acoustic number, might be the Prozac generation’s first wedding song. “Your Heart is An Empty Room” revisits some of Death Cab’s better baroque offerings and even steals a piano fill from Transatlanticism’s “Lightness.” Did they think no one would notice? Noted success aside, DCFC’s straying from their signature nuances is like watching a fastball pitcher try a split-finger knuckler – some of their liberties end up on the wrong side of the fence. The virtuosic homage to Rush at the end of “Different Names for the Same Thing” is an irrelevant coda to a bland song. Also gone is a good deal of DCFC’s pessimism: “Someday You Will Be Loved” is an enthusiastic goodbye to bad memories, for better or worse. After all, it’s hard to be sad when you’re getting shout-outs from Seth Cohen. Smile, My Space kids. Your favorite band will […]
Oct 1st, 2005 by Vital Archives
Crazy Water Shines
By Catherine McGarry Miller Crazy Water 839 S. 2nd St. 414-645-2606 Dinner 7 days a week, 5-9 p.m.; Fri. and Sat. until ten Culinary performance artist Peggy Magister plays nightly in the window of her popular Walker’s Point restaurant, Crazy Water. She’s on stage more and closer to her audience than most Broadway stars. If I were in her clogs, I’m sure some choice expletives would escape now and then. “I do swear,” she admits. “You just can’t hear it over the fan!” Besides, she continues, “there’s really no one to swear at – the people I work with are too good. I like working in the open – I get to see what’s happening out front and get immediate feed back because I’m not removed from what’s happening.” The Milwaukee native was inspired by her mother’s home cooking, and as a girl started baking cinnamon and sugar pastry cookies from her mother’s pie dough scraps. She enjoyed duplicating fancy desserts from magazine covers, like caramelized walnut tortes and pastry shell jewel baskets bursting with fruit. By high school, Magister was hosting elaborate dinner parties for family and friends. “I subscribed to Bon Appetit. I have all of them and pull them out all the time. That’s how I learned to cook – mostly from magazines.” Magister studied business at Boston University and then completed a degree in nursing at Marquette. After working for five years as a nurse in Seattle, her mother died and she moved back to Milwaukee to be near her father. It was then that the would-be chef began administering to customers through their taste buds instead of I.V.s. A job at La Boulangerie was a vocational turning point. “I had no cooking skills whatsoever,” Magister says. “(Owners) Lynn and Dale Rhyan gave me my palate. Lynn, a classically trained chef, took me under her wing and taught me everything. She taught me how to taste something – that’s what I think is so important. There are tons of restaurants that are busy, but there not tons that have great food. Many chefs can do basics, but if you don’t have a palate, it’s like painting with technique but no sense of color.” The experience whetted Magister’s appetite for culinary education. She got her degree from the California Culinary Academy in San Franciso and on-the-job experience at Wolfgang Puck’s Postrio. Though the famed gastronome was rarely in attendance, she got valuable training in all aspects of cookery from butchery to bakery. Both homesick and wanting to make a mark in her field, Magister again returned to Milwaukee. Chip ‘N Py’s offered her the perfect opportunity. “I wanted a job with more responsibilities and didn’t want to start at the bottom. Chip ‘N Py’s was looking for a lead lunch cook to plan a menu, cost it out and implement it.” There she met Tony Betzhold, who became her business partner. Together, they launched a catering business and, later, The Fork restaurant in Cedarburg. Since then, the […]
Oct 1st, 2005 by Cate Miller
Kanye West
By Kevin Krekling On his new album Late Registration, Kanye West proclaims “I think I died in that accident, ‘cause this must be heaven.” Boy, is he right. Ever since the release of his monster debut The College Dropout, Kanye has been everywhere. He went from the Grammy’s to Hurricane Katrina benefits and, most importantly, the top of the hip-hop world. His beats are going for about $75,000 a song and a 16-bar verse might cost you more. Is he worth it? If Late Registration is any proof, the answer is a resounding yes. Knowing that it would be impossible (and boring) to make a College Dropout Vol. 2, Kanye ditches the “old soul sped-up sample” style he perfected and moves on. In an attempt to tackle some new sounds and genres, West enlists Grammy-award winning (and completely non hip-hop) Jon Brion to serve as co-producer for the album. A risky move indeed, but the gamble pays off. The result is the best hip-hop album of the year (although 2005 was a very weak year for hip-hop) and also the most imaginative. From the syrup-sippin’ Dirty South anthem “Drive Slow,” to the baby mama-drama of “Gold Digger,” to the overdramatic, James Bond-sampling “Diamonds Are Forever,” the album is chocked full of excitement. Initially, some cuts don’t seem like they should work (who puts Maroon 5’s Adam Levine on a hip-hop song, anyways?), but they do. The one knock on West is his mic skills. Although his flow is thought provoking, funny (“she said she want diamonds, I took her to Ruby Tuesdays”), and creative, West doesn’t have the natural voice of a Biggie Smalls or Method Man, and sometimes the music suffers. On the album’s best song, “Gone,” his vocal shortcomings are magnified when he is simply overpowered by the verses of superior MC’s such as Cam’ron and Consequence. But those moments are few and far between, so it is not worth shutting the album off. Late Registration is not The College Dropout. In many ways, it’s better. VS
Oct 1st, 2005 by Vital Archives
A Teenage Symphony to Milwaukee
I’ve been living in this city for exactly nine years – long enough to have left a wake of half-blurred musical memories behind me, but not quite long enough to have figured out what they all mean, how these haphazard fragments of rock shows, local bands, and desperate music can possibly fit together into a greater context. For me, the Milwaukee music scene – as well as the city itself – represents a decades old repository for the casually discarded memories of hundreds upon hundreds of musicians, bands, and the obviously troubled souls who perform on open mic nights. Beyond any particular style, movement or trend, it’s this random wreckage scattered throughout the past nine years that truly makes our music scene what it is: a long, collective, drunken night out. While brimming with good times and great oldies, it’s no secret that the Brew City warehouse has never exactly been a hotbed of breakthrough artists. In the obscenely short lifespan of rock and roll, how many life-altering, earth-shattering, “I lost it to that song!” bands have come out of Milwaukee? Here’s a hint: if you’re the type of person who needs to count using your fingers and you happen to be short one arm, you’ll do just fine. Along with this sobering statistic comes a peculiar breed of person who curses the local music scene, who wishes it ill will and tragedy at all turns: a nice place to live, but a terrible place for music. After all, they cry, has there ever been a more apathetic, unwelcoming city in which to shelter a Brit-pop/hardcore/shoegazer/art-damaged/early Kinks-influenced juggling act? Or how about a band (ahem) that owes its entire existence to They Might Be Giants and The Dead Milkmen? These people never tire in pining for the more “music-friendly” cities of Chicago, Portland, or – I don’t know – Hoboken, New Jersey. Their callous derision, their knee-jerk contempt, their out-of-pocket dismissal can only mean one of two things: they’re complete idiots, or, more likely, their bands simply suck. Over the past almost-a-decade, I’ve done what every semi-successful local musician has done – I’ve come to terms with this city. For every night of dwindling crowds, stolen equipment, or god awful opening bands, there’s been a dozen filled with unexpected revelations, note-perfect music, and unbridled joy. Seeing Of Montreal putting on a play at the pre-remodeled Cactus Club. Playing with Sylvain Sylvain from the New York Dolls. Or, better yet, opening up for the SuicideGirls Burlesque Show. The naysayers have it all wrong; it’s not about the final destination; it’s about the alcohol-infused folly along the way: the nights spent with tireless friends dragging equipment on-stage, with unknown fans singing along to every word, with effortless and stupid grins lighting our faces. Good times. This is Vital’s music issue, and strangely, I find I have little to say on the state of the scene. What’s missing is the distance needed to put everything in perspective, the cool detachment required for such […]
Oct 1st, 2005 by Matt Wild
Milwaukee Sound Environment Project
By Haven Langhout Milwaukee is an excellent place for local music of all stripes and it wouldn’t be too far a stretch to say that 91.7 FM WMSE has had a lot to do with it. Since its unlikely birth as the broadcast service of the Milwaukee School of Engineering in 1981, WMSE has been regularly playing locally made and played music, interviewing bands and aiding in producing local musicians’ albums. Ask pretty much anyone involved in the Milwaukee music scene and they’ll attest to what a great resource WMSE has been. “WMSE has given us on-air exposure, show opportunities and support. To have a local independent station that acknowledges and reaches out to smaller experimental bands is amazing,” says Faythe Levine of Wooden Robot. “[It’s] Music by the Milwaukee people, for the Milwaukee people.” Until recently, the station’s efforts have been ongoing but ad hoc. This changed earlier this year with the launch of the Milwaukee Sound Environment Project, or The MSE Project for short. WMSE’s mission is to broadcast a wide variety of unique music unheard anywhere else on the local dial, and to provide a venue for artists to expose their work to the community. The MSE Project shares this goal and then some. On a recent Tuesday evening, I met up with WMSE Promotions Director Brent Gohde for a full explanation. Brent quietly greeted me at the station’s front door around 7 p.m. and we walked through the lobby, where the band Clamnation was setting up to play live on the air at 8. Sound engineer Billy Cicerelli checked the musicians’ levels. Behind them in the glass-walled booth, DJ Radio Dave was broadcasting his weekly program, Midnight Radio. We found a quiet spot in Studio C and Brent gave me the scoop. The MSE Project began as the brainchild of Polly Morris of UWM’s Peck School of the Arts and the WMSE Steering Committee. Morris saw an opportunity for a matching grant from the Milwaukee Arts Board to aid WMSE in their support of local musicians. Gohde, along with station director Tom Crawford and Cicerelli, fleshed out the idea for The MSE Project and applied. The Board awarded WMSE the grant for the full amount requested, renewing it again for another two years in June. The Milwaukee Arts Board allows a maximum of three years of funding, but WMSE is planning for the project to be self-sustaining by the time the grant is up. The Project has three components: the Local Live weekly radio program, the website www.mseproject.com, and the release every six months of a CD compilation of live recordings made at the station. Local Live happens every Tuesday night at 8 p.m. and is hosted by either Bob Midnight or Radio Dave of the Midnight Radio show. The featured local band plays several sets over the course of half an hour, their performance professionally recorded by Cicerelli. The DJs interview the band and promote upcoming shows, new releases or other band news. Perhaps most importantly – […]
Oct 1st, 2005 by Vital Archives
The Silent Players
By Evan Solochek With roots in rock & rolls infancy, poster art has long been one of the most defining avenues through which underground music scenes have endured. While in most cases the artists who create it never pick up a guitar or sing a note, they serve just as integral a role as the musicians themselves. We hooked up with three of Milwaukee’s foremost poster artists to find out what moves them. Vital Source: How did you get started making posters for bands? Damian Strigens: Whatever band I was in I just decided to do it. I was the default guy. Mainly it’s just having fun. It’s rock ‘n roll. It’s music. James Kloiber: Back in ‘98 I was going to shows at Globe East like every weekend and I was also going to art school and I wanted to do something to get my art out there. Poster art seemed like a very natural thing. It was something to help out the music scene and keep myself drawing. Eric Von Munz: I was involved in the underground music scene, I was going to shows like every weekend, and thought I could contribute something back to the scene on a visual level because I’m not a musician. VS: What was the first band you made a poster for? DS: The Sacred Order – 1984 JK: Avail w/Straightforward and Codebreaker – May 23, 1998 at the Globe East EM: Gus Hosseini’s Birthday Bash – 1993 VS: What inspires your poster art? DS: Vaughan Oliver really inspired me. He used a lot of inverted images and metallic inks. There is this one story of when the Breeders asked him to do a poster for them and he came back with something totally different from what they asked for and they were like “this is totally different than what we asked for. It’s perfect.” JK: When I got started, Frank Kozik and Coop and Derek Hess. EM: I only do posters for bands I like. So if I like the band, then the band is going to inspire me to do the art. I can’t just pull stuff out of the ether. VS: To what extent do the particulars of the band influence your poster? JK: Sometimes they don’t at all. A lot of times I’ll get the assignment having never heard them, which may or may not be a good way to work. Sometimes I’ll look at their website and see what sort of stuff the band likes for their art work, what the covers of their CDs look like, or look at their song titles for ideas. It’s usually just one little thing that I take to get an idea from. DS: It does and it doesn’t. Sometimes the most obvious thing, like a skull on a poster for a heavy metal show, leaves nothing to the imagination. I like something with a little more mystery to it, a little more abstraction. I like to push things away from the […]
Oct 1st, 2005 by Vital Archives
