2007-10 Vital Source Mag – October 2007
The Sadies
The Sadies play like a Quentin Tarantino film — a synthesis of cult genres (surf, rockabilly, psychedelia), characters with memorable names (Sean Dean, Dallas Good) wearing smart suits, and a sweeping casualness about it all. Unlike Tarantino, the Toronto band’s fifth studio release has an absence of curse words and racial slurs. It’s hard to neglect their liner-note acknowledgment of the “financial assistance of the government of Canada through the department of Canadian Heritage” – pretty amusing since their brand is a blend of mindfully resuscitated ’60s American music. The Sadies haven’t reinvented the wheel, but they do hitch it on a wagon that rolls past an enjoyable landscape. “My Heart Of Wood” and “Sunset To Dawn” parade natural harmonies reminiscent of the Eagles. “Anna Leigh,” an organ-permeated trot about a mirage of love, is easily mistaken for a song titled “Emily” given the rambling, raspy lead singer. “Wolf Tones” and finale “The Last Inquisition (Pt.V)” highlight the band’s instrumental adeptness and stand tall without the Bob Seger vocal reinforcement; the upright bass, guitars, autoharp, and drums are eerie, inspired, and practically faultless. Extended family members contribute their musicality to the record – most distinctly, Larry Good’s lively, but buried, banjo artistry on “Never Again.” The filtered autumn colors in fuzzy film grain emblazoned across the CD packaging are representative of New Season‘s sound: inviting, textured, and mature. Maybe it’s okay to occasionally judge a book by the cover.
Oct 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
A matter of perspective
By Blaine Schultz, Jon Anne Willow and Kenya Evans + Photos by Kat Jacobs and Erin Landry In planning this story, we originally set out to pair young musicians with seasoned veterans and see what kind of school would be in session as a result. But what happened instead was vastly more interesting: organic dialogue stemming from a common love. What follows are three interviews with six musicians penned by three writers. The questions for each were different, as were the settings and interview styles. But the messages overlap, intertwine and paint a bigger picture of what it takes to live one’s passion. From creative process to overcoming jadedness to living with your choices, these six musicians laid it all out. Very special thanks to the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music for opening their doors for the photo shoots for this story. You’ll find more incredible images in our gallery at vitalsourcemag.com. —Jon Anne Willow Peder Hedman and Jason Mohr By Blaine Schultz + Photo by Erin Landry It is a too-warm September evening in Jason Mohr’s backyard, but nobody’s complaining. Bug spray and citronella candles help, but this year’s crop of mosquitoes arrived late and hungry. In a far-ranging conversation that spans Mohr’s thoughts on how a songwriter may be unconsciously predicting his own future to Hedman’s take on what it means to keep a band together when domestic realities come to the fore, it was never really obvious that two decades separate this pair of Milwaukee musicians. A common point of reference for both guitar mavens is the Maestro Echoplex, a vintage analog tape echo unit. Hedman brought to the interview a Stylophone, a gizmo he picked up at Value Village. The crude, handheld synthesizer may be best known as the instrument that plays the solo on David Bowie’s “Space Oddity.” The Peder Hedman Quartet is in the final stages of self-releasing Don’t Fall Down; Mohr’s group, Juniper Tar, is nearly ready as well with the provisionally-titled Free Bird. Both bands begin with interesting songs and then subtly warp them to their own needs. And make no mistake, the musicians who collaborate with Hedman and Mohr are as talented and beyond ordinary as you will find. “Take a look at this, the first press I ever got,” Hedman says, setting an age-yellowed copy of the Crazy Shepard on the table. The 1982 article profiles the Null Heirs, accompanied by a grainy black and white photo. Since then, bassist Mike Frederickson went on to form The Moseleys and play bass with Robbie Fulks; keyboardist John Duncan played with Gear Daddy Martin Zellar (and Tiny Tim); Kent Mueller ran the late KM Art. Hedman played in Liquid Pink, then Tweaker, which landed him down south for years. It’s a sharp contrast to Mohr’s less than a decade of band experience, highlighted by an EP with his previous group, Telectro. “If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it … well, I’m making my mark,” Hedman says of his […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Jon Anne Willow
The Big Dig
“It swings between passion and obsession, constantly. It’s definitely at the point where I’m like, ‘do I want to buy groceries this week, or do I want to go digging in Indianapolis?’” Aaron Soma spends 12 to 16 hours a week, on average, digging for vinyl. At least once a month, he leaves the state to rummage through basements and backrooms for dusty jewels of sound. He calls it the “great nerd odyssey” – and he’s not being flip, despite the shadow of cool that has settled on record culture in recent years. Aaron can describe what he’s into – Northern soul, forgotten originals of ‘80s pop songs – but it’s hard to put a finger on what he’s really searching for. So in consideration of the question, he made a list, went to some record shops, and thought about it for a while. Here are four things he managed to sort out. 1. Covers, or forgotten originals of songs that were covered and became hits Aaron’s first digs were through his parent’s formidable collection of records. “I picked up Beatles albums,” he says, “wondering, looking at the records, noticing that the song wasn’t written by John Lennon or Paul McCartney, but some American R&B artist somewhere.” “That’s the really exciting thing about collecting,” says Andy Noble, co-owner of LotusLand Records. “You’re always following a path, and you’re probably following multiple paths.” “It could take you back to the beginning of recorded time – or to Africa, or to Brazil – just by following the sound, the producer, the people who were thanked in the liner notes, weird stuff like that. It’s an exploration.” Aaron is always learning; every dig is a research project. “I’ll bring a battery-powered portable record player with me to a shop and just dig through, set stuff aside. That’s how I teach myself what’s going on. I hardly ever know what I’m looking for when I go out: it’s really a dive into the unknown.” 2. Midwestern music Aaron’s serious collecting started with ‘60s psychedelic rock, especially local acts – Michael and the Messengers, The Illusion, The Legends. For the past two or three years, he’s been collecting mainly funk and soul music, and still turns up a lot of local material. “Because I dig regionally, I tend to come up with a decent amount of stuff that was actually happening here – Harvey Scales and the Seven Sounds, The Esquires.” On a sunny late-summer afternoon, Aaron drives me out to an empty storefront on North Avenue. Audie’s Records has been closed since the late ‘80s, and judging from the steamrollers parked next door, it might not be standing for much longer. It used to be a major distribution hub for hip hop, soul and funk in the Midwest. “A lot of that stuff is still here. In bigger Midwest cities – St. Louis, Detroit, Minneapolis – a lot of the shops get really picked through.” Still, good finds don’t come easy – especially with […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Amy Elliott
Jobs, jobs, jobs
When Tom Barrett won the 2004 mayoral election, he promised to focus on “jobs, jobs, jobs.” Now that he’s gearing up for a reelection campaign next year, the time has come to ask whether he has delivered on his pledge. In office, Barrett declared Milwaukee “open for business” and pledged to work tirelessly to attract new jobs and retain existing ones. Right out of the gate, his personal involvement in discussions with South Milwaukee-based Bucyrus International contributed to the company’s decision in 2004 to locate a new plant in the city’s Bay View neighborhood. According to the mayor, other companies, including Direct Supply, Captel and Caleffi, are expanding in Milwaukee resulting in a total of nearly 11,000 new jobs to the city since he was elected. Another early initiative of Barrett’s was to declare that Milwaukee and her neighbors needed to work together more effectively. He played a vital role in 2005 in launching the Milwaukee 7 initiative whose focus is to enhance the economic viability of southeastern Wisconsin. The group has conducted an analysis of the region’s strengths and launched a website, choosemilwaukee.com, to attract new companies to the area. Some, including CEOs of major local businesses like Northwestern Mutual’s Ed Zore and Manpower’s Jeffrey Joerres, have expressed impatience with the slow pace of the Milwaukee 7’s work. Others feel the group lacks adequate involvement of organized labor and advocates for the poor. But Barrett’s support of a regional approach to economic development is widely praised as a welcome change from the confrontational style that was standard operating procedure during the administration of John O. Norquist. Another change from his predecessor is Barrett’s willingness to expand the use of tax incremental financing (TIF) to encourage development. Under this program, the city provides grants, tax breaks and other incentives to get projects built that are expected to return the investment by adding to the value of the city’s property tax base. The TIF program has been cited by some as an example of how the city relies too heavily on real estate development at the expense of other investments more likely to generate jobs. Last year, the Public Policy Forum (PPF), a local nonprofit think tank, issued a scathing report faulting the city for an overemphasis on construction and for lacking a comprehensive economic plan. The report charged that Milwaukee spends more than $100 million a year on projects related to economic development but “absent a plan or guiding vision, the city invests in its economy in an ad-hoc fashion.” It states: “In the cutthroat game of big-city economic development, Milwaukee has wagered millions on real estate development and community development to boost the city’s tax base and stimulate investment in poor neighborhoods. In placing this bet, the city has largely neglected business and workforce development expenditures that aim to bolster personal incomes, create jobs and grow a skilled labor pool.” According to the PPF report, the city’s TIF program provides a useful example of how difficult it is to […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Ted Bobrow
The Cocksmiths
I was busy looking for a shiny, elegant yacht to land upon my shore. Instead, what sailed in was this beat-up, high-octane, dirty old barge with a rowdy party spilling out of it – the kind you’d call the Coast Guard on. The new Cocksmiths CD Trouble Pill is Milwaukee-brewed rock ‘n’ roll, with emphasis on the rock. It’s the product of a true live band taking their set into the studio, banging out 13 songs in two days. You can practically hear the beer bottles hitting each other in the background. The slowest, most melodic and contemplative song on this set is titled “Bar Room”—’nuff said. Even Matty Gonzalez’s voice is whiskey-drenched throughout, telling you he got the party started before playing the first lick. Gonzalez also pulls guitar duty with Ryan Daniels and Paris Ortiz, with bassist Joey Carini and drummer Dave Schoepke driving it home. Almost everybody sings, in true barroom democracy fashion. The ‘Smiths (sorry, I just can’t abbreviate to The Cocks) expertly dovetail both the sound and the production with the songwriting: no frills. Having knocked around town in various configurations for over ten years and played together going on five, these guys certainly know a good live hook and riff. And while nothing here is creatively original, the guitar solos (and there are good amount of them) and vocals are delivered with razor-sharp skill, and most importantly, honesty. These guys mean it. The Cocksmiths can loosely be joined to the current hard-rock renaissance. Buckcherry, Velvet Revolver, even emo bands from the early part of the decade have “matured” into aggressive, cocked-locked-and-ready-to-rockers who want the top down and the pedal to the floor. The Cocksmiths easily keep pace with all of them. Put this sucker in your car on the way to drunksville, and look me up when you arrive.
Oct 1st, 2007 by Troy Butero
Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings
They spend all of their free time lending their considerable talents to other people’s work, which makes one wonder how Sharon Jones and her backing band, the Dap-Kings, have had any time for themselves. Jones recently worked with Rufus Wainwright; the Dap-Kings can be heard tearing up pop radio as the backing band on Amy Winehouse’s smash “Rehab.” Yet along comes 100 Days, 100 Nights, their third release, on their own Daptone imprint. Expending all that energy on other projects hasn’t diminished the drive to create on their own; 100 Days sizzles with the classic Motown soul of Aretha and Stevie. While the Dap-Kings’ work on Winehouse’s Back to Black carries a distinctly pop sheen, 100 Days takes wood stripper to that glossy finish, leaving behind raw trumpets, gritty rhythms and the classic two-beat guitar stabs from Motor City faves like one-time Kings’ cover “Uptight (Everything’s Alright).” The lazily upbeat “Tell Me” comes closest to what would have been considered a pop hit in the days of Martha and the Vandellas, but that’s not to say that the midtempo groove that dominates the album won’t get asses on the floor. Of course, the real star here is Jones and her bluesy, ballsy alto, which wails away on tracks like the reproachful “When the Other Foot Drops, Uncle.” Maybe she isn’t likely to become the household name that Winehouse and Lily Allen are on their way to becoming. But since Jones and her band are bringing home plenty of green via their extracurriculars, Amy and Lily are welcome to their celebrity; just occasionally leave this crew to their own devices, and if they keep turning out records like 100 Days, 100 Nights, everyone wins.
Oct 1st, 2007 by DJ Hostettler
Dan Kaufman/Barbez
There’s something undeniably mysterious about the sounds coming from Dan Kaufman/Barbez’s album Force of Light. Developed over the span of three years, Force of Light is a requiem to Holocaust survivor and poet Paul Celan. Scattered throughout the album are lines from Celan’s poetic discourse read by Fiona Templeton, a theatre director and renowned Scottish poet in her own right. Paul Celan remains one of the major poets of the post-World War II era. The death of his parents and his experience with the Holocaust are two central themes in his works. After receiving word of his parents tragic death in the camps, Paul writes, “And can you bear, Mother, as once on a time,/the gentle, the German, the pain-laden rhyme?” Just as his poetry is rich with feeling, Kaufman/Barbez’s works on Force of Light are on par with Celan’s devices. The opening track begins with a slow finger-picked chord progression on a nylon stringed guitar — dark and captivating, the climate catapults the listener into the realm of introspection. The music is accompanied by Fiona’s eloquent reading of Celan’s poem Shibboleth: “Together with my stones/grown big with weeping/behind the bars/they dragged me out into the market/that place/where the flag unfurls to which/I swore no kind of allegiance.” As the words of the poem take shape, chimed instruments are thrown into the mix, creating an overall eerie air. The track draws visions of shadowed figures in pantomime. Kaufman spent years working on this album, including a month in Berlin in solitude beneath images of the Holocaust. The result is an album that not only covers a wide musical terrain, but touches a collective human quality. From clarinets to theremin, to marimbas and violin, Force of Light is a lush auditory feast. The arrangement of sounds, along with Fiona’s reading of Celan’s poetry, is a perfect mesh that keeps the listener in limbo and often teetering on feelings of hopelessness and despair.
Oct 1st, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
The Saltshakers
Local four-piece outfit The Saltshakers unload some serious crunch on their new album, Up All Night. It’s catchy, poppy, laced with power-riffs and may indeed keep you Up All Night. The opening track, “Believe,” is your standard pop-rock catch tune that will get a foot shakin’ and a head bobbin’, starting with just a single guitar power-chord progression—momentous though not overly driven — then laced with the accompanying rim shots and tambourine. Lead singer Chad Curtis has plenty of room to wail on top of the back-up vocals and furious chomp roaring from the amps. “Whiskeytown,” a tribute to Ryan Adams, has an alt-country vibe to it, with a really great, semi call-and-response hook: “I said ‘hey, you, what do you say?’ I think your fine-ass self should step my way and we’ll walk hand-in-hand all the way to whiskeytown.” The second verse is stripped down a bit, with less emphasis on the guitar, and more on the beat — what sounds like hands clapping. It’s fun, interactive and catchy. The rest of the album showcases the band’s musical range. “Happy Now?” has a heavier beat with a more progressive-rock feel and metal guitar lead riffs. But The Saltshakers always come back to their power-pop roots. Up All Night, though playing on several genres, stands on its own and is chock-full of raw guitar energy.
Oct 1st, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
Know Your DJ
DJ ROCK DEE AGE: 39 SIGN: Leo DAY JOB: Brookfield Guitar Center; Air personality, 88.9 Radio Milwaukee; DJ for Mob Candy Magazine & True Baller Clothing STYLE: Hip-hop, house, old-school funk, disco, salsa, reggae RESIDENCIES: Alverno College, Zen Den, Radio Milwaukee, Walkers Pint, Three, Summerfest BEST NIGHT EVER: Summerfest 2002. I had produced the Diskotech DJ stage. I had all the greats that year! One night I had Biz Markie headlining … I was blessed to experience the sports area packed … over 3,000 strong, with everyone singing “Just a Friend” right along with Biz Markie. WORST NIGHT EVER: God bless, none yet! ON THE NO-PLAY LIST: Honestly, nothing really comes to mind. If it’s good music, I will play it, no matter what the genre. STATE OF THE SCENE: My professor Tracy Stockwell reminds me all the time what a great city Milwaukee is … the art galleries, the economic development, the nightlife. DJs can actually work and make a living here … that is the bomb to me! Some say we’re still behind the times – and maybe we are a little – though we as a city are setting our own times, not basing our time on anyone else’s. IN THE BEGINNING: I was breakdancing at Skate University when all of a sudden these dudes make an entrance with equipment that never seemed to stop coming. Next thing I knew, there was this guy named Dr. B mixing records … cutting, scratching, backspinning, mixing this with that and rapping on the mic … I knew from that point on that was what I was going to do for the rest of my life. That was 1982 and now it’s 2007 … you do the math! FLAV-OR-ICE FLAVOR: Green. KID CUT UP AGE: 25 SIGN: Caution: Curve Ahead DAY JOB: Being a DJ is a full time job. GEAR: Tech 12’s, Vinyl, Serato, Rane 56, Shure SM58 STYLE: Well-rounded DJing. Hand skills AND party rockin’. Commercial AND underground. New AND old school. RESIDENCIES: No Request Fridays @ Redlight above Tocadero w/ Why B; Flirt Thursdays @ Hi Hat Garage w/ Steve Marxx; Hiphop Tuesdays @ the Uptowner w/ DJ Musko BEST NIGHT EVER: Any night people are down to let loose and have a good time. WORST NIGHT EVER: Weddings CURRENTLY PLAYING: New album from Milwaukee’s Element ON THE NO-PLAY LIST: Requests STATE OF THE SCENE: Potential-filled FLAV-OR-ICE FLAVOR: Orange. Slightly melted. DJ NU-STYLEZ AGE: 27 SIGN: Libra DAY JOB: DJ, mix tape producer, music producer STYLE: Hip-hop, crowd rocking, ghetto house … you name it, I can get it done. RESIDENCIES: Texture; Digital Underground tour DJ BEST NIGHT EVER: Sydney, Australia… rocking 10,000 people down under… unbelievable. WORST NIGHT EVER: Reno, Nevada. The sound man was drunk and left the board and somehow turned off the monitors, so there was no sound on stage! CURRENTLY PLAYING: My remixes and whatever makes me and the people on the dance floor feel good! STATE OF THE SCENE: It’s on […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Matt Wild
The Doo-Wop Box
I spent my teen years in Kansas City during the ’50s, and like other suburban girls of my era, gloried in wearing Mamie bangs and pony tails, Poodle skirts and saddle oxfords. A few years ago I bought a pair of those famous black and white shoes with pink rubber soles, copies of the originals which are still being churned out in California. Hey nonny ding-dong. Thank heavens, some things never change. Doo-wop. Do you remember doo-wop, the music of the 50s and 60s, rooted in the urban streets and hearts and souls of black Americans? When The Chords, five black guys, cut “Sh-Boom” in the spring of 1954, I was a senior in high school. My best friend introduced me to the sound, a sound so black that the beat stuck in my head and feet for years. To my lily-white ears it had a dangerous edge that signaled freedom and something other than the privileged “Pleasantville” suburbia of my teen years. It was sexy and sweet and heartbreaking. Filled with tears, moons and stars, it addressed the yearnings of most teenagers, but come to think of it, didn’t actually guarantee any answers to our prayers. In many ways, doo-wop resembled a stone-hearted God that we worshipped on a daily basis. Today I’m sitting in my office writing and listening to The Doo-Wop Box, 101 vocal group tunes compiled in 1993 by Rhino. The four CDs cover the years from 1948 to the doo-wop revival era stretching from 1959-1987. Included is a smart book stuffed with black and white photographs, historical information, and a list of 33 “nonsense” syllables, used to replace traditional instrumentation. Can you identify #17: doo wop, doo wadda, or #31: wah wah, shoop shoop? Along the way, I noticed that many of the vocal groups from the early years were named after birds … The Orioles, The Ravens, The Flamingos, The Wrens, The Penguins. But there were also groups named: The Nutmegs, The Jewels, and The Valentines. These folks did not lack for imagination. In 1956, I floated off to a college dance, in a strapless turquoise tulle gown and huge rhinestone earrings, my hair sheared off in a “Duck’s Ass.” It was a daring haircut, but my date, an uptight dental student intent on fixing tooth decay, never asked me out again, even though we sipped rum and Cokes and danced to “In The Still Of The Nite.” The Five Satins recorded the tune in a basement, and the book in my Doo-Wop Box informs me that despite the hollow sounds, it was one of the two most popular oldies of all times. The other was The Penguins, “Earth Angel.” Their name came from the icon on the Kools cigarettes pack. Earth Angel, earth angel, won’t you be mine? Tonite. Tonite, may never reach an end. Long Lonely Nights by Lee Andrews & The Hearts set my heart on fire. It still does. So, what’s an old lady like me doing listening to doo-wop, […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Judith Ann Moriarty
