2007-01 Vital Source Mag – January 2007
Jayk
By Evan Solochek + Photo by Dan Kocka With Robert Smith hair and a smooth yet commanding baritone that evokes a maturity and polish beyond his young age, Jayk is poised for big things. His debut album, everything ever, will be released any minute now, and yet Jayk has already landed a sponsorship deal with DC Shoes, toured the country from coast to coast and appeared on MTV2 and Fuel TV; not bad for a 22-year-old kid from West Bend. To hear more from Jayk, check out www.myspace.com/thatjaykwhosings. 1. What are your musical influences? I’ve always really appreciated the bands that I thought were great at writing lyrically as well as musically: Death Cab for Cutie, Rachael Yamagata, Tegan and Sara, City & Colour, Decibully… Most recently, Imogen Heap has really struck a chord with me. There is a side of me that still loves metal and hardcore too. 2. What was your earliest experience with music? Both my parents were involved with the church choir when I was very young; my father played the guitar and my mother sang. My dad was very much a jazz/blues guy, but he definitely had a lot of great classic rock albums. The first album I ever got into was a Yes album my dad kept in his collection. I remember being about 5 years old and I would sit in front of the record player and listen to “Roundabout” over and over. 3. What has been the most memorable moment of your career so far? The first real show I did was opening for Since By Man and Misery Signals. Apparently the original opener dropped off, and I was really worried that no one would like me. These were hardcore bands, for Christ’s sake, and I’m pretty much the furthest thing from it. I played like 5 songs and got the shakes really bad, but I got through it and with a very good response from the crowd. 4. How would you describe your music to someone who has never heard it? I’ve heard myself compared to many things I like (Jeff Buckley, City & Colour) and many things I dislike (Jason Mraz, Howie Day, even Ryan Cabrera). I like to let everyone make their own assumptions about what they think they hear. I play guitar and I sing. To me, I sound like me. 5. Where were you a year ago, and where do you see yourself this time next year? A year ago I was a struggling, inexperienced kid chasing what seemed like the impossible – no job and barely a roof over my head. Although I am now making giant steps in my career, it will always be a struggle to consistently create great music and keep everybody’s ears tuned in. By next year I hope to have settled with a record label that I am comfortable with, and be writing and recording more than I currently am; I’ve got a lot yet to say. VS
Jan 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
…And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead
Listening to the new album from Austin’s …Trail of Dead reminds me of a 1992 quote from Faith No More’s keyboardist Roddy Bottum, regarding their tour mates Guns N’ Roses, who had morphed from a gritty LA sleaze-metal band into a bloated juggernaut: “I’m getting more and more confused about who’s in Guns N’ Roses, and it’s blowing my mind. Onstage now there’s a horn section, two chick backup singers, two keyboard players, an airplane pilot, a basketball coach, a coupla car mechanics…” One gets the same impression from So Divided. Back when TOD was unleashing chaos-rock on 2002’s brilliant Source Tags and Codes, they were lean and mean, but with their recent releases – 2005’s Worlds Apart and now So Divided – the band has chosen to expand their sound through bizarre stylistic shifts and ballooning instrumentation until you’re left wondering what these guys care about more – writing huge, epic songs, or just being huge and epic? “Stand in Silence,” the first proper song on the album, summarizes this frustration. The track opens with a classic TOD riff; the rhythm marches with a staggering, swaying funk backbeat while the vocals call the listener to action. But just as the song is about to take it to the bridge, it skids off the rails into a confusing symphonic second movement that sounds completely removed from the rock & roll book-ending it. The same thing happens to “Naked Sun,” which inexplicably transforms from a bluesy shuffle into more overwrought Tolkien-soundtrack shenanigans. When …Trail of Dead keep it simple, like on the title track, they’re still powerful, but overall So Divided is a mess with a badass rock record buried somewhere inside. VS
Jan 1st, 2007 by DJ Hostettler
We are the new year
By Matt Wild “You always seem to have the same problems, month in and month out. It’s like you never fucking learn.” This gem comes courtesy of an honest-to-a-fault friend during a blurred, never-ending round of drinks at Foundation. It’s nostril-freezing cold outside, and while it pains me to admit it, I know she’s right; nearly every one of my past 20 columns for this fine monthly have trod the same emotionally stunted, unemployment-fueled territory. So if you, dear reader, find yourself in agreement with this assessment, I implore you to brace yourself, because as far as repetitive and depressing columns go, this one’s a real doozy. Hate mail from jilted ex-lovers? Check. Half-hearted suicide attempts? Yup. Soppy, self-indulgent final paragraphs bemoaning a misspent, penniless Milwaukee youth? You better believe it. It’s a few weeks later when I find myself grudgingly attending a rock show at – dear God in heaven, help me – Live. It’s not the bands on the bill that give me pause (although all but the excellent Highlonesome will prove to be utterly useless), but instead the familiar list of aforementioned woes: a perpetual lack of money and a recent email from a former female acquaintance detailing my lack of “…conscience, courage, integrity and a spine.” Nevertheless, I’m placing my bets on the dim hope that some live music – along with the possibilities of the impending new year – can pull me through the evening. Tonight’s crowd is a schizophrenic mess, and can be divided up thusly: the kind of folks that currently frequent Live, and the kind of folks that haven’t stepped within a 20 foot radius of the place since it ceased being The Globe. (So long, bastion of all-ages Milwaukee rock; hello, 2-for-1 Jager bombs!) Style-wise, the assembly is equally polarized: button-ups crowding the bar, tattooed lunatics crowding the stage. Up first are The Sensible Pant Suits (Author’s Note: due to the extreme awfulness of the first two acts, I feel it’s only good manners to use aliases; if you care to know the true identities of these bands, contact me courtesy of this publication.) The group peddles in the kind of boring, outdated punk rock dreck that used to dominate the scene before every local band changed their music to boring, outdated “classic” rock. Their set is filled with the typical “Dude, we’re like, totally wasted!” between-song chatter, as well as the always popular “Come up front and dance!” demand that usually signifies barely-disguised desperation, a collective mental handicap or both. Next up is a solo set from Barry Getz, lead singer for local upstarts Let’s Hear It For Remedial English. Getz’s “sound” is hard to nail down, though imagining a 14-year-old boy giving birth while repeatedly picking up and dropping a series of electric-acoustic guitars seems to sum it up quite nicely. The straights seemed pretty miffed at all the racket, however, and a particularly oafish goon soon gets the boot after repeatedly screaming something about all the “dirty punk […]
Jan 1st, 2007 by Matt Wild
My greatest teachers
By Lucky Tomaszek I am lying on the couch with one child spooned up against my belly and another lying on my side. We are covered with a blanket and the television is quietly playing in the background. I doze in and out while they watch a movie. Jeffrey, my youngest, whispers, “You’re the best snuggler in the world, Mama. I love you.” I melt into the couch and drift off once again. A very long day The scene above happened the day after I had disappeared for 14 hours to attend an all-night birth. When I came home in the morning, I was exhausted. Fatigue made me achy and cranky. We had a busy day in front of us, with chores and obligations scheduled throughout the afternoon. I had attempted a brief nap in the morning, but had given up when I couldn’t fall asleep easily. My temper was so short the kids kept their distance and waited the day out. I don’t even know how many times I snapped at them as we moved through the afternoon and into the evening. By the time the sun went down, I was frustrated with myself for my behavior toward them. It wasn’t their fault that I was tired, and I knew it. My inner voice was berating me with vigor and I wondered again if my children would only remember these hard days when they looked back as adults. But then, as if by magic, we found ourselves curled up on the couch, passing the evening in peace. The haves and the have-nots of feelings My kids are good. It’s my opinion that almost all kids are good kids, actually, even when they have a hard time holding their behavior together. They come equipped with enormous hearts to give and receive great big love, and with a desire to do so. They also come with all of the other emotions that we have as adults: sadness, anger, frustration, joy, fear and on and on. What they don’t have is the ability to communicate about those feelings. As infants and toddlers, they don’t yet have the words to tell us exactly how they’re feeling. As school-age children and teens, they often don’t have the context to explain it coherently. The fact that the ability to articulate their emotions haven’t developed doesn’t mean that those feelings are any less real or valid than any of ours. When a toddler is jealous enough to bite, when a second grader is angry enough to punch and when a 16 year old is crazy to proclaim true love all over their biology folder – it’s as real as it gets. Behavior needs to be molded, and corrected in many instances, but the emotions are pure. When my own behavior is out of line, like it was many times during the day I described earlier, I apologize to my kids and tell them why I was misbehaving. I don’t do it to excuse myself, but just […]
Jan 1st, 2007 by Lucky Tomaszek
