Classical
Citay
The average person does not listen to instrument-led rock music. At most, it’s used as background noise while cleaning, studying, or even sleeping – earning a position not much higher than a Sharper Image sound machine. Without prominent vocals, it’s easy for most to lose interest. Unless, like the not so itty-bitty eight-piece Citay committee, there is a generous amount of aggressive ‘70s guitar to demand attention. The noise comes when least expected, as during the unassuming Elliott Smith-like “On the Wings.”Since the disc’s undertones are mellow, these interjected rock-god moments are startling. Also surprising – and out-of-era – is the Metallica-meddling on “Former Child” which, thankfully, bows out a minute or so into the almost eight-minute track. Now, eight minutes may seem drawn out, but Little Kingdom is never difficult to connect with, even at its most noisy, lyrically free and instrumentally hefty. Not quite as kitchen-sink as today’s symphonic indie bands with as many members, Citay’s wackiest accessory is the mandolin. In addition, songwriter Ezra Feinberg plays nine instruments and provides tender vocals in select songs like the whimsical “First Fantasy.”Not only does he rival Sufjan Stevens in gratuitous musicianship, but also channels Sufjan’s minimalist, folksy vibe throughout “Moonburn,” the album’s closer – beneath the hell-raising retro guitar shredding, of course. If your Led Zepplin III or Pink Floyd Animals vinyl is wearing thin, Little Kingdom is an ideal segue into the current century. Apologies if it’s only released on CD.
Nov 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
Jimmy Eat World
‘Emo’ was once considered a four-letter word, yet one of the founding bands of this genre, Jimmy Eat World (along with the likes of Rites of Spring, Sunny Day Real Estate and Braid), managed to give it staying power. From 1993 onward, the band that once did split 7” records with Jejune and Christie Front Drive has evolved into a Warped Tour member and is name-checked with Green Day and Taking Back Sunday. Taken aback by their success, the band has been seemingly cornered into re-creating and advancing this once fresh sound, moving it from its hardcore/punk roots into a bubblegum pop vocalists’ headbanger’s ball. In the process, Jimmy Eat World’s trademark sound, which began with 1999’s Clarity, shifted the majority of the vocals from Tom Linton’s scratchy emo-core rasp to Jim Adkins’ more pure tenor choirboy vox. Perhaps this was the switch that fixed Jimmy Eat World’s rising popularity, but at a heavy price. None of the once truly poignant words remain. On Chase This Light, the lyrics seem bled dry of anything heartfelt, the songs sliding from one to the next, not effortlessly, but unnoticeably. Gone are the days of the intense but admirable balance of adrenaline-bomb hooks and dramatic epics with electronic noodling (innovative in its day). This stagnant direction is surprising, since their last release in 2001 had them leaning back to their grittier Static Prevails days. Only “Firefight” and “Feeling Lucky” recall the band’s original sound. Venturing into new territory, “Gotta Be Somebody’s Blues” gives off a smoke-machine, Def Leppard vibe with its excessive strings and over-produced vocals. Even Jim Adkins’ contribution – “Carry You,” from his side project Go Big Casino, and which could be said to be more true-blue – still sounds contrived and will soon be Muzak. Was it foresight that almost ten years ago on Clarity’s “Your New Aesthetic,” Adkins sang, “We’re lowering the standard in a process selective / the formula is too thin / but it takes more than one person / so everyone jump on / I’ll miss you when you’re just like them”?
Nov 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
Bruce Springsteen
Bruce Springsteen’s career has been truly beyond reproach. Even those who aren’t fans have to acquiesce to the fact that he’s the definition of integrity in a business that thrives on the opposite. And while his popularity may have waned in the nineties, he still created provocative music that meant something both to him and to his audience. This is evidenced by recent releases from a number of young artists mining his sound and his aesthetic. Ah, but they could never be the real thing. And here in his 24th year of recording, Bruce produces yet another finely-crafted testament to his “Boss” title. Magic contains the most direct and immediate collection of rock music Bruce has put out since Born in the U.S.A. in 1984. The saxophone, the piano and the rest of the E Street Band are back in full regalia on songs like “Livin’ In The Future” and “I’ll Work For Your Love.” The driving rhythms, melodies and narratives are also back, particularly on “Last to Die.” But Bruce doesn’t stop there: on the title track he displays the entire spectrum of his talents as a creator. “Girls In Their Summer Clothes” is as innocent as it is wistful. And though it may turn some people off, there are also a number of songs that touch upon his acoustic, rootsy leanings, sparse and epic. Bruce makes albums that are the equivalent of audio novels. They tell stories, weave descriptions, paint landscapes and define characters. But he also always gives us a little prize wrapped in the theme of it all: the emotional resource that compels us to be the authors of our own existence. “Love (and attitude) is a power greater (and stronger) than death” he sings in his tribute to a deceased friend on the hidden track 12, “Terry’s Song.” Yep, that’s the magic.
Nov 1st, 2007 by Troy Butero
James Luther Dickinson
As producer and musician, Jim Dickinson has had a hand in masterpieces by Aretha Franklin, The Rolling Stones, The Flamin’ Groovies, Big Star/Alex Chilton, Ry Cooder, The Replacements and Bob Dylan – not to mention raising his sons, The North Mississippi All Stars. As a solo artist, Dickinson released his debut in 1972 (the classic Dixie Fried) and waited thirty years before following it up. Reminds me of a joke my grandpa used to tell about “a long time between drinks.” Dickinson has picked up the pace significantly since; Killers From Space is his third album since 2002. His choice in material and the very way he inhabits a tune go a long way to defining that particularly indefinable brand of Memphis strange. Ranging from Tin Pan Alley to blues to gospel to all-out rockers, Dickinson’s weathered vocals put the listener front-row-center to characters that may be down and out, but have more soul than they can handle. “I Need You” reveals menace that in lesser hands would be camp. Here its wheezy harmonica and piano interplay suggests the last gasp of Jay Hawkins at St. James Infirmary. Dickinson is a national treasure; he should be on a postage stamp.
Nov 1st, 2007 by Blaine Schultz
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
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
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
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
The Milwaukee Music Scene(tm), part deux
Rejected titles for this month’s column: God, I hate The Gufs; God, I hate Chicago; Are you there God? It’s me, Milwaukee. After more than a decade as an on-again, off-again bit player in the Milwaukee Music Scene (MMS), I’m no closer to cracking its modest secrets than I was on day one. At times, our little city seems on the verge of something great, something bold and original; other times, it seems like a distant cousin’s wedding dance that simply refuses to end (no matter how many times “We Are Family” and “Baby Got Back” are played). In MMS columns of the past, I’ve written: “Maybe it’s that the MMS is like a cruel mistress, or maybe more like a jilted lover, or maybe more like a wacky TV next-door neighbor you just can’t get rid of. Any way you dice it, this is the time, city and scene we’ve all been given, so let’s focus on the good and avoid the bad.”Indeed, perhaps the best summation I can give our local indie/rock/noise/cow-punk/Gregorian-chant scene is that it’s schizophrenic at best, and simply catatonic at worst. Nevertheless, it’s the one we’re stuck with, and one thankfully rife with just enough left-field, life-affirming moments to keep us all plugging along without putting guns to our heads. But before we dive deeper into that barrel of monkeys, let me say this: at least we’re not Chicago. The oft-mentioned inferiority complex we harbor for our Illinois neighbor has always puzzled me, as if criminally overpriced drinks, non-smoking venues and Billy Corgan are things worth aspiring to. During a trip to Roger Ebert’s stomping grounds last month, for example, I was faced with fifteen-dollar rum and cokes, twelve-dollar cover charges, and a smokeless, soulless venue that resembled a horrific cross between The Rave, Cush and a slightly upscale Hardees. For all its hype, the Windy City has always struck me as nothing more than a typical midwestern dump with a hugely inflated ego. Put simply (and to crib a line from The Adventures of Pete and Pete): Chicago can bite my scab. But anyway, back to the homefront. Nothing better illustrates Milwaukee’s strange, musical split-personality than a recent evening that featured both the unbelievably good times provided by the monthly Get Down, and the unspeakable horrors of The Gufs playing a free outdoor show a block from my apartment. Both events are fine examples of their respective ends of the MMS spectrum, with unbridled joy brought on by an incredible selection of music on one side, and unchecked nausea brought on by maudlin lyrics and poor fashion sense on the other. Following some sort of urban-playground/soccer/skateboard/BMX/let’s-do-this-before-Downer-Avenue-turns-into-a-goddamned-parking-garage block party, The Gufs set up shop and begin to do their thing, much to the delight of the sea of inebriated 18-year olds flooding the street. You may remember The Gufs as one of the slew of one-hit 90’s bands with a skin-crawlingly treacle-laced song about “crashing into me.” Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure they’re all […]
Oct 1st, 2007 by Matt Wild
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
