Classical
Element Everest
By Kenya Evans Life is a Heist tells the spiraling stories of the hood rich just trying to get by and delivers a verbal vengeance signed and sealed by Ms. Everest personally. The first and only lady of local hip hop group Black Elephant – 2006 WAMI runners-up for best unsigned artist – Element Everest (yes, her real name) is debuting her first solo album. She’s no stranger to MCing, writing rhymes and shutting down naysayers who criticize or question her authority as a female rap artist. Gritty and unapologetic, Life is a Heist booms with 808s, snares and brassy beats against Element’s smoky voice. The up-tempo “Intro” has the layered instrumentals of a marching band, dramatic and charged with musical action. “Good Girls,” the first single, which premiered on local radio station V100, is a sexy and sassy boy-meets-girl love song that’s mellow and made to groove to. Element upholds what Black Elephant does best – telling tales of the city, from grinding streets to head-bobbing beats – but brings a bit more soul to her own songs. Element sings a cappella on “The Wire,” reminiscent of an old Negro spiritual, channeling the stark realities of modern-day urban strife and the continuous struggle of black life: that there’s no difference between slaving in the fields to becoming slaves of the mind and products of an impoverished environment. “Katrina,” a duet with local guitarist/singer/songwriter Evan Christian, speaks for the dismal and discriminated New Orleans natives who were victims of a natural disaster and their own government. Overall, it’s rich and hard-hitting, both lyrically and musically: Element doesn’t play nice. Get ready to take a bite out of some ghetto melodies that bite back.
Oct 4th, 2007 by Vital Archives
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
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
Girlyman at Shank Hall
How do you know you’ve made it as an Indie-Gender-Folk-Pop group? Is it playing to a crowd that sings along to almost every one of your songs? Witnessing members of your audience placing the now ubiquitous concert calls to friends who couldn’t make it to show? Or is it being called back to the stage, not once but twice, for encores? On Friday night, Girlyman had all of this and more as they played for an enthusiastic crowd at Shank Hall. Before they took the stage, their long-time friend Adrianne played an opening set comprised of original songs that were both well written and well performed. She did play one cover in a nod to the “music of her youth” – the song she referred to as her Cheesy Embarrassing Eighties Favorite, the Thompson Twins’ classic “Hold Me Now.” She won over the cheese-heads and closed her performance by saying, “I’ve only played in Milwaukee a few times and every time it’s been cool. And tonight is infinitely cool!” Girlyman echoed Adrianne’s sentiments by saying repeatedly, “People are nice here!” It’s not hard to be nice to a band that is as humble as it is talented. The three members of Girlyman – Nate Borofsky, Doris Muramatsu and Ty Greenstein – played their own brand of folk music and told the crowd stories about their lives. The setlist consisted mostly of songs from their April release, Joyous Sign, with a smattering of material from their first two albums and a couple of numbers thrown in to make the audience laugh. They cut up onstage to an impromptu “tuning song:” as Ty worked to get her guitar ready for the next number, Nate and Doris sang what started as a schmaltzy ballad and ended with an overstated and hilarious chorus of “We’re not going to tune it/No, we ain’t gonna tune it” to the melody of the old Twisted Sister song. A particular standout from the new album was “Reva Thereafter,” written by all three band members to help Nate work through his grief following the death of his grandmother. Before the song, Nate told the audience a little about her and eloquently painted a picture of a strong, determined woman who took her own life at 95 years old. “You wrote the letters one by one into the setting of the sun/Tell me, what was it like to send yourself into the light that night?” When he openly sang of his pain, we could feel it with him. Isn’t that the ultimate goal of most songwriters? To make your listener feel? As the members of Girlyman interacted with each other and with the audience, we all became invested in the stories that they told in each song. Doris’s profession that her optimism inspired “Good Enough” (“Somewhere back in time we made each other laugh / And I could see how that was good enough”) was sincere and heartfelt, and Ty’s confession that ”Hey Rose” is about a dark period of […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Growing up, moving out and keepin’ on.
“We love coming to Milwaukee because we just always get such, there’s so much excitement; so much is coming back to us from the crowd. It just feels really good to be here.” That’s how Ty Greenstein, one third of the increasingly well-known band Girlyman, ends our interview. I’ve been sitting around Shank Hall with them for about half an hour chatting and it’s time for their sound check. I thank them for taking the time to talk to me, and they thank me back warmly. Let me just repeat that part – they thank me! I drive home with a smile on face, thinking about the things they said to me. I had been a little nervous about the interview earlier. I mean, I’ve been writing for VITAL Source for years, but as the Slightly Crunchy Parent. In the office I’m referred to as the Crunchy P (Crunchy Pea? Crunchy Pee?), not as a music reviewer or even as a reporter. I worried as I drove over to Shank Hall that I would come off exactly as I am, a moderately dowdy woman who spends most of her time with her kids and rarely does anything as grown up and metropolitan as interviewing a band. When Girlyman came into meet me, they were short one member of the trio. Doris Muramatsu wasn’t well and needed to rest before the show, and so the interview would be with Ty Greenstein and Nate Borofsky. Seeing the two of them without Doris was a little startling, as the three have been together almost without break since the band’s inception six year ago. Not only do they work and perform together, but until recently – when Ty and Nate moved to Atlanta — they shared a small apartment in Brooklyn. The band has continued writing, practicing and performing together; the move has done nothing but good things for their creative process. “We spent almost seven years living together in the same small apartment in Brooklyn,” explains Nate, “and after a certain point, it started to feel a little…” “Small.” Ty finishes. “Yes, small,” laughs Nate. “It started to feel smaller and smaller. Genevieve, our manager, was also living with us at the end, and then we got a dog and so really, it just got really small.” Ty adds, “In the beginning it really gave us a creative push. We were all in one space and it really easy to just write songs and do all this creative work. That got us through the first three or four years. We just didn’t have much else besides each other.” But after so much closeness, it was time for a change. Nate and Ty both moved to Atlanta while Doris stayed in New York. Nate tells me, “We’re still working out ways to meet for practice, but when we are together on stage, and even just seeing each other, it feels more vibrant. We’re more invigorated about playing together now.” Ty elaborates. “Something changed and […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Lucky Tomaszek
Buffalo
Affordable drinks and public smoking are two things homesick MC Lunaversol9, recent San Francisco implant, misses most about Milwaukee. Another is, of course, the people—not limited to her newfound friend and cohort Nicholas Sanborn. Sanborn, who frequented the coffeehouse where Luna worked, was familiar with her background with local hip-hop mainstays Def Harmonic, and presented her with an instrumental track in need of her flair. Though unable to produce anything for months, Luna eventually found the words, and the results were “Curtains,” a song about loss that would become one of her favorites to perform solo. “Deer Tracks,” where Luna’s smoke-ridden voice begs “I want antlers” the way a spoiled child demands her own golden goose, began as a looped guitar sample and was presented by Sanborn and verbally delivered by Luna in a similar fashion. “It was strange,” she says. “Unlike any other track I had ever been given. But gorgeous.” After two personally challenging and fulfilling songs, not committing to a project with Sanborn would have been foolish. At Sanborn’s request, the two formed Buffalo; Luna covers most of the lyrics, singing, and rapping, while Sanborn lays down the Wurlitzer, organ, piano, bass, guitar, and computer. “He is a musical genius, and I am mainly just a writer,” Luna admits. “There is really nothing he cannot do; his arrangements and choices are baffling. I only write when I can, and hope it fits.” Her unpretentiously earthy, soul-sopped attitude also bleeds out of her lyrics: “Is there a way to be a writer/And still be in love? Is there a way to drown in water/While watching it from above?” A short-lived, albeit intense fling last summer—evidence to support Luna’s rhetorical questions—was inspiration for the lion’s share of Buffalo’s first album. The debut has been recorded and is currently being mixed, but has no due date. While creative undergoings are usually compared to one’s children, Luna says music has always been more like a parent, much like the city she left to pursue life on the West Coast, a choice partner Sanborn respects and understands. Her goals for Buffalo, even after migrating from the Great Plains, are simply “to continue.” She adds, “to tour would be paradise.” Inspired by Fiona Apple, Tom Waits, Cocorosie, and David Byrne, among others, Luna has her eyes toward indie trip-hops TV On The Radio for tourmates. On March 3, 2007, the newly born Buffalo was unveiled to an audience. Live, the band is a different animal, when a drummer and an additional multi-instrumentalist fill out the stage. Despite Buffalo’s infancy, Luna has rapped since 1999 and Sanborn has played keys for Decibully since 2003, tallying volumes of stage and touring experience. The next Buffalo show, slated for her October Milwaukee homecoming, is promised to provide precisely “what you need at the time.” Luna’s own first impressions of Buffalo—strange and gorgeous—are likely to be yours, too. Two tracks are available for listen at http://www.myspace.com/iwantantlers
Oct 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
The Music Issue
Here at VITAL, we love music, and we figure it’s a pretty fair bet that you love music, too. Every year we showcase everything that thrills us about the wide world of melody and harmony, rhythm and tempo, sound and silence, and this year it’s even more close to our hearts — it’s 100% homegrown. We talked to Milwaukee folk singers, Milwaukee hip-hop artists, Milwaukee legends, Milwaukee upstarts, and one remarkable Milwaukee rock photographer. We talked to five Milwaukee DJs about their best and worst nights and we talked to Milwaukee record collectors about the history of recorded music. We even visited the Wisconsin Conservatory of Music for a photo shoot. And our record reviews were local — we reviewed new releases by The Cocksmiths, The Saltshakers, Testa Rosa and Element Everest. It happened rather by accident, but what emerged from all of this was a sketch of an often misunderstood — and underestimated — music scene. Milwaukee is home to a vibrant, striving and passionate community of music lovers, makers and sharers. A lot of it happens under the surface, but it’s there, pulsing and singing and getting people up on their feet. But it’s there. And it’s here in our pages, and on our website. We hope you like it.
Oct 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Tone deaf and loving it!
When I was just a little girl, my grandmother used to say to me, “Lucky, honey, you can’t carry a tune in a bucket.” She said it often, because in spite of the fact that I didn’t sing well, I did sing a lot. And I sang as loud as I could. I have always loved singing. I participated in chorus in junior high and high school in the hopes that, with some training, I would become at least a passable singer. It never happened. I always thought I was tone deaf, but have recently discovered that the scientific term for my musical deficiency is pitch deafness. It’s sad but true, I’ll probably never be a good singer. Equally sad for the people who have to ride in the car with me is the fact that I still love to sing – very loudly. This trait is one that I have passed on generously to all three of my kids. Just as we share a love for singing at the top of our lungs, not one of us can, as Granny Betty used to say, carry a tune in a bucket. We sing loud and proud. And badly. According to that most reliable of internet sources, Wikipedia, “The inability [to discriminate between musical notes] is most often caused by lack of musical training or education and not actual tone deafness.” I’m not convinced this is true after my years of dedication to public school chorus and my girls’ years spent in the church choir. That training did manage to make us into pretty good mimics. We can copy music we hear repeatedly fairly reliably as long the music is playing, and that’s good enough for us. Early and often! When the kids were very young, I hoped that starting them earlier in structured music lessons would allow them to overcome this fine family quality. My girls started singing in our church’s children’s choir at six years old, and their little brother went with them faithfully to every rehearsal for the love of singing. Despite their obvious enthusiasm, it didn’t seem to improve their skills much. Since they come from a family of music lovers, my kids have wanted to learn about other forms of musical expression as well. Both girls took ballet and jazz dance lessons. Lena studied violin for two years and Emma starts with it this fall. Jeffrey is teaching himself how to break dance, and is pretty dedicated to becoming good at it. Last year, Lena took World Music in her first year of middle school and was exposed to marimbas, maracas, bongos, tambourines and many other instruments. Lovin’ it all Through all of the lessons and classes, my children have remained absolutely enthralled with music of all sorts. From bluegrass to rock, from classic country to hip-hop, they can sing along to the words without missing a single beat. They recognize instruments they hear, and fairly reliably identify music by country of origin. All three of […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Lucky Tomaszek
Testa Rosa
When Milwaukee-based band The Mustn’ts shook hands and called it a day, they couldn’t have realized what a happy parting of ways it would become when two even more brilliant bands were re-formed from the not-even-settled dust: The Celebrated Workingman and Testa Rosa. The latter, a condensed version of The Mustn’ts (all three members of Testa Rosa were in The Mustn’ts) is Betty Blexrud-Strigens (vocals/guitar/keys), Damian Strigens (guitar/drums/bass/vocals) and Paul Hancock (bass/piano/guitar/vocals). Testa Rosa’s astounding triple threat of clever lyricism, luminous melody and the best girl vocals to be heard since the days of buttery 60s pop is an undeniable force to both listeners who play music themselves and casual pop consumers. Those who understand the complexities of composing a diamond of a pop song will hold genuine appreciation for the effortless songs nestled between the covers of Testa Rosa’s first release. And even the tone-deaf will be floored by Blexrud-Strigens’s alluring vocals, which hover lucidly over even the grittiest of their songs. Hancock and Strigens are the driving force behind the atmospheric pretty-pop primarily written by Blexrud-Srigens. Testa Rosa effortlessly ranges genres and manages to smooth them beautifully (compliments of producer/engineer mastermind Beau Sorenson of Madison’s Smart Studios). Two of the best songs on the album, “Ollie & Delilah” and “Arms of a Tree,” demonstrate this mix – “Ollie & Delilah” is a heartbreaking but punchily-penned song about two young lovers lead astray, with heart-thumping drumbeats, huge, echoing guitars and ghostly keyboards; “Arms of a Tree” is a wistful and lovely ballad which showcases Blexrud-Strigen’s alto perfectly. For lack of a better word, ‘perfectly’ is just how Testa Rosa’s first release appears to have turned out.
Oct 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
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
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 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
