Classical
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
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
Charles Mingus
*Cornell 1964 was released in July, but we think it’s worth a listen — and Blaine is here to tell you why. Maybe it is no surprise that a spirit as indomitable as Charles Mingus survives 28 years after ALS shuffled his body off this mortal coil. The bassist/bandleader/writer’s legacy has grown in no small part due to efforts by his wife (and former Milwaukeean) Sue Mingus. Her discovery of this recording, much like recently unearthed live sets by John Coltrane and Thelonious Monk, serves as another chance to pull the image in the rear view mirror up close and marvel at the music created by this great band. With three tunes clocking at over fifteen minutes and another pair sprawling into the half-hour range it becomes obvious these musicians are seriously at work. There is no endless noodling, only tight full-band sections, spotlight solos and some great improvising. Clifford Jordan and Eric Dolphy’s horn playing throughout the two discs sounds like a conversation – squeezing out sparks as the ideas ebb and flow. Mingus once wrote a letter to Downbeat Magazine decrying the free jazzers’ new definitions of musicality, but Dolphy and Jordan’s playing makes use of all the bases within Mingus’s nearly Baroque themes and folk-forms with solos just on the edge of squawking and crying, all held down by the ESP rhythm section of Mingus’s bass and longtime campadre Dannie Richmond’s drumming. Cornell’s version of Mingus’s “Fables of Faubus” would be a great place for any new listener to dive in and the group’s arrangement of Duke Ellington/Billy Strayhorn’s “Take the “A” Train” offers a look at Mingus’s fearlessness and reverence in dealing with a mentor. It is obvious just how much joy these musicians have with these tunes. Shortly after this gig the band toured Europe; Dolphy died at age 36 due to complications from diabetes. As a frozen moment, this recording is more than document. It is a new highlight in the Mingus discography.
Sep 24th, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
Danbert Nobacon
Danbert Nobacon has earned his place in the canon of well-known unknowns. Kicking around in Leeds since the late ‘70s, Nobacon was a founder and vocalist of Chumbawamba, which though they only had one international radio hit (1997’s “Tubthumping” ) managed to keep the royalties flowing and the tours rolling until the band’s demise in 2004. Now he’s back on Chicago’s Bloodshot Records with a debut solo outing that only a certified veteran could produce. Although the impact of Nobacon’s musical offering is felt upon first listen, it’s also one of those “creepers,” “sleepers” or “seepers” (however you want to word it) wherein the songs and the downright artistry involved only open up after repeated exposure. The rewards are great – almost revelatory – but the extra investment is required to fully appreciate the treasure within. Despite how one might be predisposed to view The Library Book of the World given Chumbawamba’s history, this is not one-hit wonder, get-rich quick, use-once-and-destroy pop music. It’s also not a bludgeon and impale, politicking musical manifesto. It’s artfully layered, full of lyrical twists and turns that include insidious declarations, wholesome ruminations, contemptuous wordplays and, perhaps most of all, damn good music. The arrangements are sparse for the most part, which gives the songs and their subject matter the wind to sail. All in all, it’s the work of a songwriter who is a journeyman at his craft, reaching what he’s after creatively. These are songs for the tavern, both the stage and the bar. And though Danbert’s voice is a bit of an acquired taste, his delivery is impeccable. It seethes with the integrity of conviction, sways with the power of knowledge and soothes with the empathy of experience. There’s an underlying vein of humor throughout the disc, but in the end, what else is there in the face of unrelenting, apathetic ignorance?
Sep 1st, 2007 by Troy Butero
Carolyn Mark
Victoria, B.C.’s most acclaimed Party Girl, Terrible Hostess and less lime-lighted half of the Corn Sisters, Carolyn Mark has removed the training wheels of collaboration (her last release was strictly duets) and is again riding solo. Nothing Is Free, whose liner notes devote the disc to “all the Cowboys, Vampires, Pirates, Poets, Scarecrows and Enablers,” is a reflection of the Can-country minx’s adorably kooky “Point o’ View.” In Mark’s universe, hopes are kept “where we can see ‘em,” those without investments can justify spending “thousands of dollars/keeping Friday alive” and aver that “it’s easier to love an idea/than it is a man.” Equally endearing are Mark’s auctioneer vocals on “1 Thing” and “Get Along,” tracks that could easily be caroused to under a state fair beer tent. Not to be pigeonholed to a do-se-do, Mark’s sound flutters from sunny surf rock (“Happy 2B Flying Away” ) to spacey daydream (“Destination: You” ) , pollinated by her husky Natalie Merchant purr and lyrics that pack a Loretta Lynn punch. “Poisoned With Hope” is uncharacteristically bulky and grating, but pardonable given Mark’s unmatched whimsy and otherwise fluid execution. Folksy, nobody’s-fool showstopper “The 1 That Got Away (With It ) ” will most likely earn the attention of femme rags like Venus and Bust, but until she flags down a more mainstream demographic, Mark will continue her notoriety as “the other Corn Sister.” If her liner tribute to the freaks and underdogs is any indication, though, she won’t be shooting off flares any time soon.
Sep 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
Ani DiFranco
By Allison Berndt Ani DiFranco is a true entertainer. Whether it’s in her racy, controversial lyrics, her man-handling of the guitar, her feminist and political ideals or even her own radical personal style, she’s certainly a woman who’s paved the way for female activist artists. Canon, DiFranco’s 17th studio album, is a two-disc compilation of the most memorable songs from her 17-year career. Included are such classics as “32 Flavors,” “Fire Door,” “Little Plastic Castle” and “78%H2O.” As an added bonus, five previously released tracks have been re-recorded for this release. The new recording of “Shameless” is most definitely worth a listen – it zones in on DiFranco’s intense guitar picking and rhythmic diversions. “Both Hands” is more percussive with a slight hint of island sound in this latest recording. “Your Next Bold Move” is revamped in a very slow, very dramatic, very beautiful way (if one can really sound beautiful when railing on politics), the lyrics a quintessential example of what defines DiFranco’s songwriting style – insightful and provocative words with a folk-guitar soundtrack. Canon is an album anyone who’s ever been interested in Ani DiFranco should own. It’s a sampling of her best work, a little bit of everything she’s done since 1990. Fast, slow, controversial, tame, it’s all entertaining and it’s all Ani.
Sep 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
“Music’s golden tongue Flatter’d to tears this aged man and poor”
By Barry Wightman If the tongue is a muscle of love, a notorious logo of leering lascivious brown-sugared rock & roll, the taste it produces in our mouths, the perception of flavor, is simultaneously a deeply personal perception of quality, an aesthetic discernment, a judgement we use to assign value in art, literature and music. Like a snake’s tongue testing the dry desert air, a tiny flickering antenna on some strange, primitive wavelength, each of us unfurls an antenna of taste, unique to ourselves, difficult to explain but critical to the art of being human. Extend your antenna, and taste new flavors. Like a bite of breakfast at Tiffany’s, Mancini at the Movies, a sumptuous spread of classics by Henry Mancini performed by his Grammy-nominated daughter Monica Mancini comes to the Wilson Center’s Kuttemperoor Auditorium this month. Mary Wilson, one of the original Supremes, brings her tasty, glittery Motown licks to Wisconsin Lutheran College in October. Taste the bittersweet of War and Remembrance: Music in the ‘40s, the still strong, fervent melodic flavors of Benjamin Britten and Ralph Vaughn Williams performed by the Waukesha Symphony Orchestra have aged well. From two or three dusty menus from old but familiar countries, the krazy klezmer kosher kings of souped-up Yiddish music, The Klezmatics, come to Alverno’s Pitman Theatre in December and stir Woody Guthrie’s corn-fed lyrics with matzoh and Manishevitz and come up with a blintz of Hanukkah cheer. Sugary and toothsome as a favorite Christmas cookie, the Milwaukee Symphony Pops can’t miss with its traditional Holiday Show at the Marcus Center. The Bel Canto Chorus sings Latin American holiday music by Ariel Ramirez at the Hamilton Fine Arts Center and Basilica of St. Josaphat. Then in the depths of winter, savor the classic kitchen table American fare of the imposing bluegrass artist Ricky Skaggs and Kentucky Thunder at the Schauer Center and Randy Newman, composer, performer and humorist at the Marcus Center in March. His voice is like a gumbo from Lake Charles, Louisiana by way of Southern California, a Tabasco’d taste of America.
Sep 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
17 Hippies and Dobert Gnahore
By Blaine Schultz Dobert Gnahore Na Afriki Cumbancha There is a pulsating sense of energy just beneath the surface of Dobert Gnahore’s music. Her fluid vocals are gently propelled by musicians led by acoustic guitarist Colin Laroche de Feline. With roots in Africa’s Ivory Coast, it is no surprise that the English translations for Gnahore’s songs tackle some heavy issues – dipping into gender politics, economics and war. A percolating battery of percussionists and vocalists adds up to some intriguing music with a message in any language. Appearing Sunday 5:30 p.m. Global Union festival at Humboldt Park 17 Hippies Heimlich Hipster Records The title cut of 17 Hippies Heimlich “tells what happens when a strong feeling should be kept a secret, so as to keep that feeling alive and strong; whereas blaring it out would destroy it.” But there is nothing secretive about this tribe. While many kids went techno when the Berlin Wall fell these folks went the other route picking up ukulele, dulcimer, violins, accordion and various horns to form this moveable feast. Alternately rollicking and melancholy, they pick and choose influences from Morocco, Romania, France and Germany. This rag-tag bunch is hard to peg unless Cajun-Balkan-Indian is a new genre. One of the members even dated the Velvet Underground’s Nico. Appearing Saturday 1 p.m. Global Union festival at Humboldt Park
Sep 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
