Classical
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
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
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 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
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
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
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
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
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
