Classical

The Decemberists’ Chris Funk

The Decemberists’ Chris Funk

Anyone with even a minute awareness of The Decemberists would find it challenging to resist asking guitarist Chris Funk all kinds of ridiculousness, like the random “What’s your favorite Western?” or the general “Why are you guys so fun?” But, it takes only one spin of anything in their catalogue to understand – Guitarmageddon, stage antics and official drink aside – that they are indeed serious musicians. With Guitarmageddon, stage antics and official drink considered, however, perhaps “serious about music” would be a better phrase. Multi-instrumentalist Funk, who personally handled acoustic guitar, banjo, bouzouki, dulcimer, electric guitar, hurdy-gurdy, pedal steel and percussion on 2006’s The Crane Wife alone, is fresh off a European tour and at home in Oregon, a state whose spectacle and character lured him from the Midwest over a decade ago. “I felt like I had done all I could do,” says the Indiana native. “I wanted to move out to Oregon to play music, for some reason.” Portland may now be the hub for a list of acts just as extensive as Funk’s performance credits, but, he adds, “at the time it wasn’t known as a musical city, and not a music-industry city by any stretch of the imagination.” Intuition paid off for Funk, who has toured with The Decemberists for around six years, a substantial tenure. During that short span, they have cultivated an active community of fans and released four LPs and five EPs (including two online exclusives) to critical kudos. As impressive as that sounds, to Funk, it only means that he, vocalist Colin Meloy, keyboardist Jenny Conlee, bassist Nate Query and drummer John Moen simply “happen to find ourselves in a rock band that people marginally care about.” The understating Funk knows that “blowing people’s minds is really difficult to do these days” and that not many since Jimi Hendrix have accomplished anything of the sort. “I’m not saying our band is doing it; I don’t think our band is,” he says. Yet sitting somewhere between Hendrix and today’s Top 40 are The Decemberists. So what are they doing exactly? “We’re a pop band and that’s about it.” It’s clear that Funk is realistic, even while contributing to a group especially keen on narrative, mythology and folklore. That being said, The Decemberists aren’t your trendy, textbook cool, or even a particularly marketable band, which is why signing Capitol Records to push their new release last year, instead of their alma mater Kill Rock Stars, was a potentially risky move. Thankfully, outside of the inevitably larger venues and increased ticket prices, corporate pitfalls have been innocuous thus far to the quintet, who places “serving music” above all else. “The responsibility is initially with yourself,” Funk explains. Integrity will prevent the release of anything they’re “not into” in the future, regardless of what label is driving their deadlines. “When we make a record, we feel an unspoken responsibility to make ourselves happy and entertain ourselves.” The Decemberists are celebrated for their over-the-top theatrics and […]

Low

Low

Two years ago, The Great Destroyer marked a period of incredible transition for Low. Not only did the album itself bristle with challenges to the band’s established method of slow and steady and hauntingly beautiful, but the period shortly after its release also saw bassist Zak Sally leave the band and founding member Alan Sparhawk check into the hospital for mental health treatment. Clearly, there were shakeups, and Drums and Guns refracts the altered configuration of thoughts and people. Producer Dave Fridmann returns to work the subtle transformations that informed his efforts on The Great Destroyer (and with bands like The Flaming Lips and Mercury Rev) ; new bassist and vocalist Matt Livingston fills no one’s shoes but his own and the album feels constantly unsettled. Even now, with listeners braced for new directions, Low’s music surprises. The opening track, “Pretty People,” crackles in with static and feedback as it raises a golem of Eastern-flavored psychedelic meditation. “Always Fade” sets an electronic whirl in the background of a jazz-funk bass line and a thunderous cardboard-like snare snap. And “Take Your Time” drops chiming bells over a deliberately skipping loop of church-like vocal cadences and a tinny drum-machine rhythm. Even in relatively familiar territory – the vocal harmonizing between Sparhawk and wife/drummer Mimi Parker is as tenderly hushed as ever on “Belarus” – Low orient themselves to see and hear things differently. Drums and Guns mesmerizes listeners to do the same. VS

Unintended consequences

Unintended consequences

By Jon M. Gilbertson Sweden apparently values a well-rounded education for its children. That’s probably why Emil Svanängen – the man who releases modestly constructed, eminently beautiful albums under the curiously affectionate name of Loney, Dear – was playing clarinet when he was 8, then playing piano and fronting a jazz trio in his teens. Even after a few years of less directed musical pursuits, he got a bit of help from Jönköping, the town where he grew up. “I got a computer from my hometown,” Svanängen says. “They started to rent them out for the citizens, and that is how I got the opportunity to have one. I started recording with it and real cheap equipment and making record after record, and suddenly, I had a fourth record ready.” That record, Loney, Noir, initially came out in 2005, and in much the same manner that Loney, Dear records had always come out. Svanängen had played and recorded the entire album himself, largely in his apartment or in his parents’ basement. Then he transferred the stuff to CD-R’s, put together some cover art and sold the things. And he was fine with doing that. “I was quite happy, and I wanted the music to spread, but I wasn’t chasing anyone to release it,” he says. “It was living on its own as it was. The only pressure came from myself. I could sell albums the day I was finished and it wasn’t a problem. It was a good situation to check out how people could react to the music.” In one of those rare occurrences of pleasant serendipity, however, the good music of Loney, Dear went further than Svanängen had intended. It started getting attention in the Swedish press, and the British imprint Something In Construction released the third Loney, Dear album, Sologne, in 2006. And that March, Svanängen visited Austin, Texas to perform – with a full band, no less – at the South By Southwest music festival. “Our manager wanted us to go there, and that made a change for us,” he says. “He’s more interested in progress than I am. That is where things started happening.” Shortly thereafter, Svanängen got an e-mail from Tony Kiewel, the head of A&R at Sub Pop, the deservedly famous indie label that introduced Nirvana and Postal Service to the world. The label wanted to work with him, and he, in turn, was ambivalent toward the label. “I got a record deal in the mailbox and I didn’t sign it for five weeks because I was kind of afraid of it,” he says. “I think I was afraid of too much touring and tough jobs. They wondered what had happened to the deal.” He did sign, and so it was that Loney, Noir finally got its stateside release this February. It’s the sort of record that should do better on an indie than on a major: its songs deal in small-scale majesties, in slow build-ups to moments of exquisiteness and the magnificent […]

April 2007

April 2007

Thoughts on “Low Numbers” Your “Strength In Low Numbers” [Covered, March 2007] piece was a good read, one of the more comprehensive looks at WYMS that has appeared in the local press. I started working there in late 1981, and saw my 21-year career end rather unceremoniously in April, 2004. In between I hosted talk shows and jazz programs, provided commentary for Spelling Bee broadcasts, built an absolutely one-of-a-kind jazz library from scratch, suffered through agonizing fundraisers (or Begathons, as the staff referred to them privately), watched on-air technology change from turntables to CDs, endured countless summer weekends when the heat and humidity in the studios was so bad the equipment would sweat (they turned the AC off on Friday afternoons…), and took out the trash when necessary. I also had the privilege of serving a unique audience that was fanatically devoted to jazz, and that made it all worth while. But the 88.9 radio torch has been passed, and time will tell if RFM’s grand experiment succeeds or fails. Thanks to your article, I now know more about what that experiment entails than I ever did before. Thank you for writing it. Bill Bruckner Former WYMS Music Director In your latest issue, your “Left of the Dial in Milwaukee” states MPS could no longer afford to support the station. What is little known is that when WYMS went to pre-programmed JAZZ, all donations dried up, and MPS ended having to budget almost twice as much to run the station! (I know as I saw the budget). Spence Kortze or whatever his name can stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. Dan in Milwaukee Ed. Note: I actually stated that “MPS announced that it could no longer afford…,” which is different from me stating it as fact. In a shorter piece it’s hard to go into depth on every point, but I saw the same budget and – Wow! What a mystifying choice the Board made… Jon Anne … More “thoughts” from our online readers: Even after reading the above story of the evolution of your new format on WYMS, I still say, “Bring back our jazz, man.” —Marilyn Holbus You need to consider not throwing out the baby (JAZZ) as you continue to format and develop your programming. I hope there is still someone out there protecting this vital part of distinctly American, music culture.—Paul Carlson The new music is a big mish mash of too many types of music. Milwaukee is a very provincial town with peoples’ tastes pretty well set. The jazz format worked. It is the only music that is truly indigenous to America. Bring it back and dump the musical smorgasbord that can not appeal to anyone. Thanks—Chuck Sable I was skeptical at first, and for the first few weeks it was clear the station was searching for its “special something,” but I think it’s got it now. It works, surprisingly well. This is a station for people who just love music plain and simple: […]

Cyann & Ben

Cyann & Ben

By Nikki Butgereit Sweet Beliefs, the third album from Paris-based quartet Cyann & Ben, could be a soundtrack to a film comprised of views from a car window on a psychedelic drive. The tracks pile vocals on top of synthesizer effects on top of organ and piano on top of guitar and drums. The effect is a swirling kaleidoscope of sounds where the meaning of the songs comes more from music than lyrics; the nine tracks flow almost seamlessly, building on each other while creating different moods and moments. The twinkling effects and scratch beats in “Sunny Morning” evoke rays of light sparkling on a lake with the persistent, long-held organ notes creating a hum in your head. “Let It Play” sounds like a whirling carousel that picks up speed as the song goes along, making your head spin slightly as the music intensifies to an exuberant crescendo. The track drops off abruptly and the next song, “Somewhere In The Light,” is a spare and melancholy, featuring Cyann’s sweetly lilting vocals, a piano and little else. Cyann & Ben’s music is reminiscent of Sigur Rós, particularly “In Union With…,” where the different instruments seem to be doing their own thing, like each part was created independently and then mashed together to form something that sounds richer for its spontaneity. With the promise of spring whispering all around, Sweet Beliefs is the perfect music to surround you and stir up daydreams as you cruise along the highway. VS

The Fall

The Fall

The mid- to late ‘70s was a time of musical change. If the ’60s “free love” culture, though hopeful, was not enough to transform mass awareness, then the “fuck you” attitude of punk and post-punk was the necessary conduit for change. Though The Ramones and The Sex Pistols captured the spotlight, no other band was quite as prolific and influential as The Fall. Throughout their history, which spans 30+ years, 50-some lineups and over 20 records, The Fall remain true to their roots. The Fall approach each release with a freshness orchestrated by stoic frontman Mark E. Smith and Post-TLC Reformation!, is no exception. The first track, “Over, Over,” begins with a menacing laugh and segues into, “I think it’s over now/I think it’s ending/I think it’s over now/I think it’s beginning.” Accompanied by a droned-out bass, a simple guitar progression and ambient sounds, “Over, Over” is an homage to cycles. This album is raw and some tracks sound improvised. “Insult Song” is a narrative, almost abrasive recounting of past show experiences interlaced with dark imagery and a satirical, intermittent chuckle from Smith. The beat is steady and syncopated, with a slap bass progression and melodic guitar solos. The overall effect complements the development of the story it tells. Post-TLC Reformation! is dark, but not depressing. The vocal style is consistently dreary, but the upbeat bass and uncompromising guitar riffs create a harmonizing juxtaposition that never lets the listener get too far down to get back up again. It’s groovy. VS