7x7 Clamour Blog

Since mid-April, I've been blogging about San Francisco arts & entertainment twice a week for 7x7 magazine's Clamour blog. All posts are available here.

Q&A with Thao Nguyen [Noise Pop]

Noise Pop Festival Program & website, 2009 [Link]

NP: I hear you’re looking for a fourth member, now’s your chance.

T: Yeah, and I would love if it was a woman. Mostly they have to be cool, but think I need that balance. Sometimes after three weeks or two weeks with these two dudes I haven't talked about my feelings in forever.

Thao Nguyen fronts the trio Thao with the Get Down Stay Down with Adam Thompson on bass and Willis Thompson on drums (no relation) whose second album, We Brave Bee Stings and All, came out on Kill Rock Stars in 2008. With Thao’s airy, animated voice dancing over jangly guitars and light, poppy rhythms, you can’t help but feel a little happier when you listen to them. Thao headlines solo at the Swedish American Hall on February 26 and promises to find out what puts the “Swedish” in Swedish American Hall.

Noise Pop: Are you excited to headline Noise Pop?

Thao: Am I headlining?

NP: Yes.

T: Really? Holy shit! No one tells me anything, I swear. I better be better than I thought I would have to be.

NP: So you’re excited.

T: Yes, totally. Sorry, it's just funny. If you knew the amount of things I don't know about what I'm doing for my job it would crack you up.

NP: Did opening for Rilo Kiley and Xiu Xiu in the beginning of 2008 pay off when you went out on your own later in the year?

T: When we released [We Brave Bee Stings and All], if we had gone on our own headlining tour it would have been just a string of shitboxes. But when we did that headlining tour a lot of people showed up who would not have had they not seen us otherwise with these other bands. There's no way that we had any sort of footing or clout. We used to play so many places with "tavern" in the name and it's just not that cool.

NP: Taverns can be tough. Any artists you’d love to play with?

T: I have a very deep affection for Andrew Bird, but I feel like if we shared the same bill I would be paralyzed because I'd feel too inadequate to play. And Mirah, I've always been a really big fan of her.

NP: How much songwriting does the rest of the band do?

T: I would say that I write all the songs. It's weird, I'm not really into control but definitely with songwriting I want it, so I prefer that the guys in the band not even hear the song until I feel like it is complete. And they write their own parts because they're much better at drums and bass than I am. I love that collaborative energy, it's just that the song—I need it to be my own.


NP: How did you find each other?

T: Willis and I went to college together and he was pretty much the first drummer I've ever played with. He's like my first rhythmic love and I think he's amazing. I know that he's irreplaceable because I've tried before and it didn't work out.

NP: And Adam?

T: We dated for a minute a long time ago. They are the best musicians that I have had the pleasure of working with. At the same time, we gel enough personality-wise, and we're of the same ethos and the same goals so it works, for the most part, really well.

NP: Working and traveling with these two guys all the time, do you sometimes crave the company of women?

T: I swear, for every 14,000 men there's one woman. Other bands you play with, the people in crews, the staff at venues—everyone is a dude. I know a lot of great female musicians but for whatever reason there's just less. When you do meet a woman that plays music—a touring musician, which is kind of a weird lifestyle—the camaraderie is almost immediate because we have so much to talk about, grievances and triumphs.

NP: I hear you’re looking for a fourth member, now’s your chance.

T: Yeah, and I would love if it was a woman. Mostly they have to be cool, but think I need that balance. Sometimes after three weeks or two weeks with these two dudes I haven't talked about my feelings in forever.

NP: Speaking of feelings, what music do you love?

T: Motown, late 50s and 60s soul and some pop, rock, and folk. That era and into the early 70s is primarily what I listen to, which is why it's such a disability for me to talk about new music that I might be interested in. I also listen to a lot of hip-hop and R&B and want to incorporate that more into the next album (not in an embarrassing way).

NP: No freestyling.

T: I’m not cool enough to do that.

NP: Are you glad you game out to the West Coast?

T: I'll say this about San Francisco: I think I've been to a lot of cities now—actually I'm pretty sure that they all blur together—but I only want to live here.

- JESS HEMERLY

SF Jukebox [Blog]

SF Jukebox

This is an attempt to evaluate and document the jukeboxes of San Francisco's bar world, and the shows that occur at our venues. Consider it a study in San Francisco music appreciation.

Selected as one of Blogger's "Blogs of Note" in October, SF Jukebox is a combination of my writing and Jonathan Koshi's photos. A number of these reviews are also posted at The Owl Mag.

Of Montreal [Chord]

Of Montreal, Chord, Fall 2008

Yes, Of Montreal is a pop band, but it's one that's innovative as hell. Whether it's the sound, the lyrics, or even the live performances, frontman—or maybe more appropriately "conductor"—Kevin Barnes strives to find new ways to combine, remix, and interpret styles and influences to keep of Montreal fresh and evolving. While of Montreal's last album, Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?, was a collection of upbeat pop songs designed to pull Barnes out of a gloomy funk, the inspiration for the new album, Skeletal Lamping, lacks a single narrative.

And that's how Barnes wanted it.

"Everything is very fractured and fragmented and I’m constantly contradicting myself in my thoughts and my concept of the world," he reflects. "I wanted to just make a record that represented that state of being. It’s important for you to feel totally free to contradict yourself and just be whoever you happen to be at the moment."

In a word, the album is best described as human. A multifaceted approach lends each song its own unpredictable personality in composition, style, and lyrics. "Nonpareil of Favor" starts off as a peppy indie pop song and ends in a lyricless drone, far from where the track began. "Touching Something's Hollow" is a wistful interlude with vocals and piano that explodes into "An Eluardian Instance," a texturally varied track about young love. The album is also not shy about sexuality, exploring everything from trans-gender relationships to prostitution.

A variety of musical styles pop out on this album, but Barnes specifically aimed to harness the bravado and energy of 70s funk. "You can draw parallels to all sorts of artists but I’m definitely pulling a lot from Prince, Sly Stone, Curtis Mayfield and people like that. And I’m also trying to incorporate more dissonance and tension, which is not really something you find in funk music."

But there is more to Skeletal Lamping than just fifteen tracks about kinky sex and wayward lovers. Barnes and the band felt they wanted to do something new with this release, something beyond a jewel case and booklet or a digipack. Taking advantage of the talented people in his life, Barnes teamed up with his brother, David (who has designed the band's album covers since 1997), and wife, Nina (who has done much of the band's merch), to create a set of seven objects that accompany the album. From a giant foldout monster poster with the CD to a Chinese lantern with a digital download, fans get a piece of art—and a reason to invest in the album even if they download it for free through other means.

"All the items we created we wanted to be integrated into people’s lifestyles. So it’s always gonna be an inspiring piece or a provocative piece or conversation piece, or something that has value just like any art piece does. The Chinese lantern and the wall decals—basically if you bought everything you could redesign your room."

For the upcoming tour, the band has replaced the electronic drum machine with a dedicated drummer who will play live on all tracks. Barnes hopes the addition will allow the band more freedom to improvise during the shows. of Montreal also plans a stage show that should impress even the most loyal fans accustomed to the band's theatrical style of glitter, glitz, and sensory overload. Using a separate room on wheels, the band will create a second environment on stage that can be turned around, re-staged, and then turned back to face the audience.

"What we’d love to do is transform each venue and create an other-world environment that you are not expecting at all," says Barnes.

Through their multifaceted approach to distribution and performance, of Montreal hopes to create new experiences for their fans that they hope will not only engage fans, but inspire them to participate and become a part of something larger. For Barnes, it's not just about the music, it's also about the spirit.

"I want the audience to feel like they’re part of the community, the sort of art collective that Of Montreal is," he says. "I really hope that people will dress up and feel like they’re part of the performance as well."

Citay [The Onion AV Club]

The Onion AV Club, San Francisco Edition, July 10 – 16, 2008

Interview with Ezra Feinberg, Citay frontman, for the Onion AV Club (San Francisco Print Edition only)

Citay began as a solo project, with onetime Piano Magic drummer Ezra Feinberg laying down tracks in his San Francisco apartment. But with the help of Tim Green (The Nation Of Ulysses, The Fucking Champs), Citay became a two-man studio project, and now, two albums later--the most recent is last year's Little Kingdom—the band has grown into a six-member juggernaut. Feinberg plays "friendly dictator" to his bandmates—which include new entries Josh Pollock and Sean Smith—composing mellow, airy tracks that approach psychedelia with repetitive melodies, breathy vocals, and sometimes surprising electric guitars. The A.V. Club talked with the band's founder and frontman about transitions, the future, and where he got that silly name.

The A.V. Club: How has Citay changed now that it's a full band?

Ezra Feinberg: Citay wasn't done with a band in mind, it was done thinking it might just be a recording project. For the second record, Little Kingdom, I knew once the songs were finished I would show them to the band and they'd reinterpret them live. The only thing that's changed is that I've gone from not really thinking about it in terms of a live show to having faith that the live show would work with the songs.

AVC: You're going through a lineup change right now. Has it been a smooth transition?

EF: It's proving to be a very smooth transition—smoother than I could have ever imagined. The electric guitars are the centerpieces of Citay, and Adria [Otte] and Jesse [Reiner] both have gotten really into their other projects and had to leave. I found two people who are close friends of the band, Josh Pollock and Sean Smith, who are both really excited and amazing guitar players. I couldn't be happier. It's been a transition that was necessary and a step forward in the development of our sound live.

AVC: With your bandmates involved in various projects, are you open to the idea of a revolving-door band?

EF: I have to be. Ideally it's a stable lineup, but I think it's going to continue to be good. When you have a singular vision, that's what you have to deal with: a revolving door.

AVC: Your highest-profile gig before Citay was playing drums with Piano Magic—what inspired you to become a frontman?

EF: Before Citay, I felt like I was always the principal songwriter and I was always a leader in the bands, but felt as though there needed to be someone else who had more character or personality or stage presence—more flash or bite or something—than me. But Citay has actually represented me: I can do that, and I want to do that and work it out in my own way.

AVC: At your last San Francisco show, a drunk guy at the bar yelled "Citay!" like he was channeling Steve Perry. Does that happen a lot?

EF: I don't remember the drunk guy, but it certainly happens. The idea [behind the band name] is a word that only exists in songs, taken out and used as a band name. "Citay" is not a word, but it's sung all the time.

AVC: You've described Citay's sound as "bridging the gap between 'Diamonds And Rust' by Joan Baez and 'Diamonds And Rust' by Judas Priest," which is a hell of a gap. What made you think you could do that?

EF: I really love a lot of really heavy guitar music and I really love a lot of very sweet-sounding music, but I've never wanted to be in something that was just sweet and I've never wanted to be in something that was just heavy. There wasn't much premeditation for this project--what came out was some heavy stuff and some sweet stuff together, often in the same song.

AVC: What's next?

EF: We're playing a bunch of local shows in the summer just to get the new guitar players all together. I think that the lineup change pushed back work on a new album a little bit, but it'll happen. —Jess Hemerly

Citay performs as part of the Rough And Tumble theater company benefit with Tall Firs, Sleepy Sun, Corvette Summer, and DJ Andy Cabic on July 15 at Café Du Nord at 8 p.m. Tickets are $10-$20 and the show is 21+. Citay also performs with Tall Firs, Brian Glaze, and Meridians on July 16 at 21 Grand at 8:30 p.m. Tickets are $7 and the show is all-ages.

US Air Guitar SF Regional: The Recap [The Owl Mag]

First published at The Owl Mag in July, 2008, SF Jukebox with pictures available here.

Thanks to the madmen behind US Air Guitar, a show consisting entirely of performers playing invisible guitars can sell out the Independent. For those unfamiliar with the magic and mystery of air guitar, it is an annual collection of freaks, wannabes, amateur comedians, and rock lovers who literally "play" air guitar on stage. Sometimes a contestant seems to be completely disconnected from both his body and the music. Other times, a contestant is so good that it's as if a guitar will materialize in his hands any second.

The spectacle's inventors have designed a rubric for measuring this skill, employing three judges—think The Muppet Show's Statler and Waldorf with unlimited drinks and a third, equally critical sidekick—to drink heavily and rate the contestants on technical merit, stage presence, and airness. Airness is that certain je ne sais quois that launches an air guitarist from novice to virtuoso. Although no scientific studies have been done on the subject, it's likely that alcohol plays a role in one's airness (or lack thereof). Alcohol also enhances one's ability to be a fair and critical judge. Like the last two years, judges Marc Hawthorne (Onion AV Club), Jennifer Maerz (SF Weekly), and John Trippe (FecalFace.com) were completely hammered by the end of the night.

The event is decided in two rounds. In Round 1, each contestant performs to 60 seconds of the song (or medley) of his or her choosing. Round 2 brings the highest scorers from Round 1 back on stage for the compulsory round, where each contestant has to perform to the same clip of the same song. The audience has the honor, or horror, of hearing that song (in this case "I'll Stick Around" by the Foo Fighters) ad nauseum. Judges' scores range from 4.0 to 6.0, a system inspired by Olympic Figure Skating. The highest-scoring contestant from Round 1 has a significant advantage going into Round 2. The contestant with the highest combined Round 1 and Round 2 score wins the Regional Championship and moves on to compete in the US Finals, which will be held at the Grand Ballroom in San Francisco this year. Asked in the pre-show press conference why San Francisco was chosen to host the finals, Another Planet Entertainment's Bryan Duquette responded, "People in San Francisco like to dress up in costume."

Yes, it is as ridiculous as it sounds. Reflecting on his victory at the press conference, the 2006 San Francisco Regional champ Hot Lixx Hulahan remembered asking himself, "Do I tell people I won air guitar?" But with sponsors like Cuervo Black (who failed to sponsor any kind tequila special at the bar), a documentary called "Air Guitar Nation," and a pre-show press conference, it's sometimes hard to tell if this is all in the name of irony or if the organizers and contestants actually take the whole thing at least a little seriously. Regardless, this year's San Francisco Regional Championship attracted a perverse and often baffling selection of the Bay Area's, um, talent making for another fun night.

The evening began with the ceremonial air-ing of "War Pigs," where master-of-air-emonies and retired contestant Bjorn Turoque invited audience members to join him on stage and play air bass and air drums as he sang (really sang, not air sang) and aired lead guitar. Turoque's career includes five second-place finishes, with the exception of a win at the New York Regional in 2005. Despite never having won the national title, Turoque has become the face and voice of US Air Guitar. Turoque's bandmates were both women, and the drummer out-shined the bassist, who probably thinks Black Sabbath is a holiday for Satanists.

With that out of way, the competition was underway. The Independent's own Ricky Stinkfingers, last year's Regional Champion, was up first. Clad in pink lyrca, Stinkfingers sported a much larger bulge in his pants than last year, either an indication that he's been taking performance-enhancing substances or that he brought his pet armadillo to the contest. His spirited performance fell short for the sober judges, who are unfortunately always hardest on the first performers of the night. Fortunately, Stinkfingers already secured a spot in the national finals with a first-place finish in the Portland regional.

A chain of mediocrity followed Stinkfingers. Plaid-pants-wearing Stoney Iommi may have been the Black Sabbath guitarist's namesake, but this Iommi's "Iron Man" was tedious, albeit accurate. Lieutenant Castille's followed with an inspired but horrific version of the theme from Miami Vice. Aside from the white Members Only jacket, the only thing remotely Don Johnson about it was the cheese factor. Dan the Man's rendition was more Bill Nye the Science Guy than Freddie Mercury, and a hirsute Bad Ass Blondini, sporting a black vest with no shirt, tight black and white pants, and the world's worst mullet wig, just didn't have what it takes to impress the judges, who were starting to get tipsy.

Mediocre turned to abysmal with David "Air Guitar" Freeberg, nearly booed off the stage when his performance of "Bad to the Bone" proved to be just bad. Another crowd disappointment, Tiger Claw, failed to come close to the greatness of his appearance last year but still had some of the best technical skills of anyone that night. Taxi-Driver-t-shirt wearing Gobo didn't so much air guitar as half-breakdance to Dead Kennedys with a stiff arm. Torque called the performance a "psychotic punk rock ballet." It could only get better, right?

Wrong. Daddy's Little Smashing Pumpkin came out next in a pink lace baby dress, blond Annie wig with a pink bow, and an overloaded diaper, performed miserably to some kind of death metal song, and responded to the judges' low scores by pulling cooked spaghetti out of his diaper and throwing it at the audience. Another repeat contestant, Downright Dirty Diamond, basically did air guitar warmups, earning himself the most disappointing score of the round, 4.8. Then came the first female contestant, Gloria Stun 'Em, whose rendition of a bizarre metal version of "Kung Fu Fighting" resulted in the best judge comment of the night, from Marc Hawthorne: "It reminded me of the third hand job I ever got in junior high."

A disheartened crowd finally started to get their money's worth with Jammin' J-Bone. Yet another repeat contestant, J-Bone punctuated his performance of Rage Against the Machine's "Killing in the Name" with a well-executed—perhaps even graceful—stage dive. Shred Nugent, also a returning contestant and last year's San Jose champion, strapped on another contestant's discarded black bra and aired it out, earning the second highest score of the night. The good streak continued with Eleven, whose Doobie Brothers-esque appearance concealed an awesome air guitar hero within.

Things slowed down again with Captain Nowhere, who, in unmistakable hipster attire, went the medley route and earned mixed reactions from the crowd. Then came Madame Deathface, the night's second female contestant, whose blasting vornado and funereal shtick wasn't enough to make up for her awful spastic style.

The lull came to an aburpt end with Shred Begley Junior. Donning black-rimmed plastic glasses with flip-up kanye-style plastic shades, an afro, and a shirt bearing the word "AWESOME," Shred Begley Jr. did just that: shred. Well, shred air. He earned the highest score of the night and inspired the crowd to chant "Awe-some! Awe-some!" as he left the stage. Stringbean made a spirited effort to follow a tough act, choosing a song I think was Avenged Sevenfold. The final two acts in round 1, Dr. Wankenstein (I-Roq Z from 2007) and Sister Lixx simply could not compete.

During the break, while judges tallied up their beverages and the top five were corralled backstage, hometown hero Hotlixx Hulahan performed to an odd medley but showed his chops to the audience's adoration. With that interlude over, it was time for the compulsory round. In 2006 and 2007, the organizers made great picks for the compulsory round: "California Uber Alles" (Dead Kennedys) and "Youth Gone Wild" (Skid Row), respectively. This year, however, I have to question their pick. "I'll Stick Around" (Foo Fighters) may be catchy as hell, but it's hardly a guitar anthem. If we're going to choose the best of the best at this made-up talent show, at least pick something with a little grit. As judge Marc Hawthorne demonstrated for those that could see him in the balcony, "I'll Stick Around" makes a great air drumming song but not so much a good air guitar track. The contestants seemed to have an easier time with this song than previous ones, however, probably because this one was more familiar. (Apparently there are still a few people in California who have never heard "California Uber Alles.")

The first top-five contestant was Captain Nowhere, whose enthusiastic windmills and good technique weren't enough to overcome his on-stage stiffness. Stringbean gave a mediocre and fidgety performance, and couldn't convince the judges that he would be able to win the national championship. Eleven seemed oddly natural with good rhythm, but showed his age with some crazy dance best suited for Golden Gate Park. Unfortunately, all but one judge, Mr. Hawthorne, gave Eleven a score lower than 5. Shred Nugent was great, channeling Dave Grohl to display his unrivaled technical skills.

But the man to beat this night was Shred Begley Jr. Punctuating his awesome performance with a stage dive, Begley received a 10 from John Trippe, another round of "Awesome!" chanting, and was crowned San Francisco US Air Guitar Regional Champion. An elated Begley picked up Bjorn Toroque as the crowd prepared for the free on-stage jam to "Freebird." After a few attempts to lift Begley, the contestants and audience members gathered on stage for air guitar jam managed to get him up off the ground.

Shred Begley, Jr. will now move on to the 2008 Cuervo Black US Air Guitar National Finals, Presented By TouchTunes on August 8 at San Francisco's Grand Ballroom.

Citay: Bridging the Gap Between Joan Baez and Judas Priest [The Owl Mag]

The Owl Mag, March 2008 [Link]

Former Piano Magic drummer Ezra Feinberg and Tim Green of the Fucking Champs never really formed the San Francisco–based, psychedelic folk/rock band Citay, at least not in an earnest "We're starting a band!" kind of way. The two met in New York when Green flew out to record Feinberg's band at the time, Feast, and hit it off instantly thanks in part to their "alarmingly similar" musical tastes and approaches. "It's uncannily specific: we like the same specific parts of the same specific songs," muses Feinberg. "We literally found ourselves spontaneously air guitaring to the same sections of the same Heart songs. It was love."

Curious about life on the west coast and eager to get out of—and away from—Brooklyn, the Cambridge, Massachusetts native packed up and headed for San Francisco in 2004. He crashed at Green's studio, Louder Studios, for a month until finding an apartment in the city. Once settled, he began making demos with an electric guitar, an acoustic guitar, his Casio keyboard, and a computer. "When I felt like I had some good materials, I went to Tim's and would re-record it from scratch at his studio, then he'd kind of add his own stuff on top of it," says Feinberg. "The skeletons of the songs I worked out on my own, and a lot of the embellishments and decorations—which is sort of what makes a lot of it—are stuff that I did with Tim in his studio."

Their collaborative efforts secured Citay a deal with Important Records, who released the self-titled first album in 2006. Feinberg never envisioned it as a live act when he started making demos in his apartment, but with the deal signed and a tour inevitable, he faced the daunting task of finding all of the instrumentalists needed to recreate Citay's multi-instrumental sound on stage. After a determined effort and a "revolving door" period, Feinberg pulled together a lineup that has remained consistent for the last two years. Now, Citay is ready to embark on their second national tour. They're also headed for their second appearance at SXSW and have even caught the attention of NPR: "Eye on the Dollar" from Little Kingdom was NPR Music's "Song of the Day" on February 26.

Citay's vocals are a little Spiritualized, and the influence of everything from Yes to The Zombies to Sonic Youth poke through the band's melting instrumental melodies. As Feinberg puts it, Citay's sound is "pop music that tries to bridge the gap between 'Diamonds and Rust' by Joan Baez, and 'Diamonds and Rust by Judas Priest." Last year's Little Kingdom (Dead Oceans), pays homage to 70s psychedelia with a fresh interpretation of old trippy sounds. And while Citay was exclusively created and recorded by Feinberg and Green (with a little help from Green's Champs bandmate, Tim Soete), Little Kingdom features all members of the band at least somewhere on the album. "I think Little Kingdom is officially a better record than the first record, but I can still hear the breeziness of the first record," he reflects. "It has an ease that maybe I only hear because I made it, but it is an ease that I appreciate and long for."

Because Citay's music is fundamentally Feinberg's vision, the creative process doesn't operate like other similar-sounding, multi-instrumental bands that work as collectives. "I think of a collective more as a democratic thing, where Citay is more of a fascist state," says Feinberg. "I'm a friendly dictator." No doubt Feinberg took a few cues from another friendly dictator, Piano Magic's Glen Johnson. Piano Magic is known for its ever-changing lineup, with Johnson remaining the only constant member of the band. At the age of 20, Feinberg spent six months playing with Piano Magic and found in Johnson a musical mentor. "It was an inspiring thing to be a part of," he says. "Musically, Glen is coming from a totally different place than me but I think that he is always working, is always a part of a community and he's obsessed with music—that's what gets him up in the morning."

Even the band's name, inspired by a mix tape Feinberg made, reflects his creative control. The mix consisted entirely of songs where the vocalists sing "SIH-tay" instead of pronouncing city the normal way—think Stevie Wonder, Journey, Foghat, etc. "When I named it 'Citay,' I never thought it would go anywhere," admits Feinberg. "Had I known that it was going to reach anyone beyond my friends, I may not have named it that, but I don't regret naming my band Citay. That's the name, love it or leave it."

As for his adopted home, Feinberg finds it easy to fit into the San Francisco music community, especially compared to fragmented music communities in vast cities like New York and London. In addition to bands like Vetiver and Six Organs of Admittance (they've toured with both), Feinberg is a fan of all of his bandmates' other projects, which include 3 Leafs, The Dry Spells, Meridians, and, of course, The Fucking Champs. He tells me, "The music scene here is really special because it's so diverse and people really know what's going on in the world of music of all kinds, and yet it manages to be small and kind of intimate and cozy."

For now, the band looks forward to their upcoming national tour, which will bring them to bigger venues and more cities than their last. Citay's future will almost certainly include a third album, but Feinberg doesn't know when or exactly how it will be made. "I always have ideas floating around, but I'm not like one of these songwriters that has 5,000 songs written and recorded and can sort of select forever," confesses Feinberg. "I write and record as I go and when a record comes out, that's everything I have from that time."

Citay will open for Oakland favorites Heavenly States at the latter's album release show at the Independent on 3/7.

For more information on Citay visit http://www.myspace.com/citay07

—Jess Hemerly, 2008

Real World GarageBand [MacTribe]

MacTribe, June 2007

DIY finds some help.

Studio time, marketing, promotion, pressing, packaging, distribution... all of these things require money and inside connections for up-and-coming musicians. But as technology advances and the phrase "famous on the Internet" begins to translate to dollars, do-it-yourself (DIY) musicians find more ways to work effectively outside of the music industry's traditional system. Enter Apple's GarageBand. This application has become a creative catalyst for everyone from the average tinkerer to the signed artist. From full album production to long-distance collaboration to sketching new songs on the road, Apple's music editing application has given new meaning to the term "garage band," allowing the company to further entrench itself in the music industry.

A perfect example of the DIY band, Los Angeles-based Bastard Fairies put their entire album together in one week using GarageBand. The band picked up Fisher Price toys from thrift stores to add texture to the music, threw in some socially conscious lyrics, stitched everything together in GarageBand, and offer the album as a free download. Band member Robin Davey loves the simplicity of the program and believes it served as an enabler for the band. "It's the quickest way to get your ideas down," he says. "Once you actually open it up and realize how quickly you can build a track it definitely enables that creative process and takes away the need for expensive studios and things like that. Everything is there in one package."

The Fairies advertised their free album on YouTube with videos assembled in Final Cut Pro. One of the videos, a "commercial" for the album, featured an eight-year old girl talking about the perils of religion and the failures of an educational system that pushes religion instead of empathy. The video quickly became popular on YouTube, and criticism from Fox News pundit Bill O'Reilly unexpectedly boosted the DIY band's exposure. "People grabbed hold of [the video] and, because it was tagged at the end with the Bastard Fairies website, they discovered the album there," says Davey. "That led to it being most subscribed on YouTube."

Despite the popularity, the Bastard Fairies chose to keep with the DIY spirit and not profit off of the album in the wake of their celebrity status. They will offer a special version with five extra tracks and a bonus DVD for purchase, but the original album will always be free for download. "Because the album was done on a budget of about $10 there's no reason why we can't give it away," he says. "There's no one to tell us that we can't and also if we do that, people are going to download it. We're going to generate fans." Thanks to Apple's technology, they were able to successfully retain full control over the entire process, from recording to distribution and promotion.

Like cassette culture of the '80s, GarageBand is a way for new artists to record a demo, but unlike the '80s cassette culture, social networking sites like MySpace and YouTube allow artists to self-release and build a fan base before finding their way to the airwaves. An existing fan base gives them an advantage when it's time to shop for a label. "We're in this stage where you can do so much more by yourself and I think it's very empowering to be able to record yourself," says singer/songwriter Ari Heist. "As a musician, it's such a key thing because otherwise you'd be spending a whole lot of money to get other people to do it for you." Heist produced and recorded his 2006 EP, "The Green Room Sessions," in his Brooklyn apartment. He played every single instrument on the album—a feat in itself—and assembled the pieces with GarageBand. Unlike the Fairies, however, Heist has been signed to a major label, Columbia, for a few years. "I'm not the first to do this, but I'm really excited about it," he says, taking a break after performing at SXSW. "I use it all the time."

Even artists who don't record entire albums with the software find it a useful part of the creative process. Singer/songwriter Jann Klose uses GarageBand in conjunction with ProTools and Logic to collaborate on songs with his keyboardist. "When there’s a new song idea I usually dump it right into GarageBand," he says. Unlike Logic and Pro Tools, which consist of folders within a file, GarageBand creates a single all-inclusive file, making it easier for artists at different locations to collaborate. And since GarageBand files can be opened in Logic without needing conversion, Jann will open it up there in order to generate and print the arrangements for other parts of the ensemble. "My keyboardist and I go back and forth with the file and we can work on adding strings in MIDI thanks to the new MIDI capability in GarageBand."

GarageBand's ease of use combined with the portability of Mac laptops make it a great application for capturing ideas whenever and wherever they happen. For a touring musician, this is often the bus, the bar, or backstage. Adam Merrin of The 88 depended on GarageBand for the drums on his solo album, but his band, recently featured on the popular television show "The OC," also uses the application when they're on tour. "I remember being on the road and using it to record ideas while we were in the car," he says. "We can just open up the laptop and start creating melody ideas on it."

Apple's recent forays into music have proven incredibly successfully, and GarageBand is no exception. The program has already become popular with average Mac users who just like to geek out and play. Many companies also offer loops for users to download and manipulate. Communities on the Internet like MacJams and iCompositions provide forums for fans of the GarageBand to upload loops and tracks and share them with other members of the community. Nine Inch Nails frontman Trent Reznor has even gotten into the GarageBand spirit. He periodically releases tracks as GarageBand files and encourages user remixes. Since GarageBand is so easy to use, theoretically anyone can make music.

But could GarageBand make it too easy for anyone with a Mac and a mouse to have delusions of rock star grandeur? "No," says Adam Merrin. "The song is still the most important thing. It’s very easy and inexpensive for people to put out their own records but the best stuff is always well written." Robin Davey agrees there's no hope without some idea of what a song is all about. "That's the essential thing: the song that you start with," he says. "Without that you're not going to get anywhere."

As a viable option to expensive studio time, GarageBand will help good do-it-yourself artists emerge on little to no budgets. But unlike "American Idol," which offers the hope of three minutes of fame even if you sing like a jackal, some semblance of musical talent and a sense of creativity is a prerequisite for getting anywhere with the music you create, even in GarageBand. Still, the consensus is that it's worth digging into and exploring what GarageBand has to offer. "I couldn’t recommend it more," says Merrin. "The fact that it comes installed with all the Mac computers is the coolest thing of all." Robin Davey sees it as part of a trend in technology making artists more self-reliant. "I think that the more and more computers evolve, the easier it gets for artists to put their creativity down."

But while GarageBand won't replace the studio any time soon its rise is certainly not good news for everyone. Heist believes an easy and affordable program like GarageBand negatively impacts smaller independent studios who rely on the business of small up-and-coming bands. "You see a lot of studios going out of business, a lot of studios that were once very sought-after and had really nice stuff to offer, but you can create something that's as good or almost as good in your own home," he says. "It's a no brainer. You won't want to spend that much money everyday to go to a studio."

Jan Klose sees its accessibility as nothing but positive. "If you’re creative there’s a lot of things you can do with it right off the bat. The main thing is that you don’t have to spend a lot of money to get it since it comes with iLife and new Macs. The fact that it’s so fun and easy to use makes it an obvious choice."

Time will tell whether or not GarageBand will have a lasting impact on the music industry, but it's clear for now that Apple fortifies its place in the music scene with this DIY-inspired application. Combined with the ability to build a following on the Internet, GarageBand has the potential to revolutionize an entire segment of the digital music industry.

— Jess Hemerly, 2007

Book Review: Revolution on Canvas [Chord]

Chord, Issue 43, June 2007

The second installment of Revolution on Canvas may amount to Chicken Soup for the Tortured Soul, but in the end, reading is better than cutting.

Revolution on Canvas, Volume 2: Poetry from the Indie Music Scene
Edited by Richard Balling
Warner Books

In The Great Gatsby, Jay Gatsby suffers the disillusionment of realizing the American Dream only to find himself feeling more hollow and empty than ever before. Jay largely suffers this experience silently and even the denouement-shattering epiphany of his last scene is wordless. Presumably, the emotions of Bobby Darling of Gatsbys [sic] American Dream are more finely wrought and therefore explicable in print. Unfortunately, like the rest of the writing in Revolutions on Canvas Volume 2, Darling's poem is mercilessly melodramatic, with a banal metaphor that warrants expulsion from any serious poetry workshop. The collection of poetry and fiction from various names in the indie music scene takes itself entirely too seriously. I didn't laugh or cry or feel anything deep down in my soul, but I did roll my eyes. A lot. I also found myself cursing Charles Bukowski and E.E. Cummings until I remembered that it's not their fault they spawned a generation of imitators who think anything with random line breaks, misused punctuation, and sensory language constitutes "poetry."

There's no shortage of irony in this anthology, starting with the editor's stated intent to make poetry accessible to the apathetic. It calls itself a survey of indie music, but some of the best indie lyricists of today—Dave Berman, Mark Kozelek, Colin Meloy, to name a few—are nowhere to be found. Instead, with work from people like Fall Out Boy's Peter Wentz and A Static Lullaby's Joe Brown, this book gives hope to kids scribbling bad poetry in notebooks that one day they, too, will be published poets. That said, people love this sort of stuff—it's how the emo corner of the indie rock world became popular in the first place. The second installment of Revolution on Canvas may amount to Chicken Soup for the Tortured Soul, but in the end, reading is better than cutting.

Low: Delight Us With Silence [Chord]

Chord [site is down], Issue 42, April 2007

The band's dirge-like percussion, grinding, minimal guitars, long harmonic vocal phrases, and emotional lyrics resulted in a sound so different that it prompted a friend of Sparhawk to coin the term that has followed them throughout their career. "We played our first shows here in Duluth and this friend of ours who worked in a record store was always joking around about the intricacies of the music scene and he said ‘I got it! You should call it Slowcore!’" Sparhawk reminisces.

When Alan Sparhawk started Low, he had no idea that nearly fourteen years later they would still be making records. "We were just kind of fiddling around and we had no ambitions at all," says the frontman. "The next thought was that we’d do a show and see what kind of adverse reaction we’d get out of people. It was very much dictated that we’re gonna play really slow music that’s barely there and see how little we can get away with." But they began to realize the possibilities of the style and it caught on with fans. Now, on the brink of their fourteenth year of playing haunting, minimalist music with his wife Mimi Parker, they're set to release a new album on SubPop, Drums and Guns.

The band's dirge-like percussion, grinding, minimal guitars, long harmonic vocal phrases, and emotional lyrics resulted in a sound so different that it prompted a friend of Sparhawk to coin the term that has followed them throughout their career. "We played our first shows here in Duluth and this friend of ours who worked in a record store was always joking around about the intricacies of the music scene and he said ‘I got it! You should call it Slowcore!’" Sparhawk reminisces. "It was a total joke and I think I mentioned it at one of our interviews." The tag stuck. They don't hate it but they do find it amusing. "You gotta have those tags I guess. I think that there are worse things to be called."

Their style has deeper roots than trying to shake things up in Duluth. Like many musicians, Sparhawk learned more about music in church than anywhere else. "Anyone who’s grown up going to church regularly with their family ends up singing those hymns and for some kids that’s the only singing you do throughout the week except for maybe some singing in school during the week." Alan was raised as a Mormon and his father, a jazz musician, often enlisted him up to sing for the congregation. "We’d loathe doing it but I look back and I realize that here were some semi-sophisticated things we learned from doing that," he says. "Harmony, breathing, holding notes, enunciation… those songs move slowly and there’s very long phrasing." That style has come to define Low's vocals.

The trio teamed up again with the producer of their 2005 rock-and-reverb infused album, The Great Destroyer, but Drums and Guns is nothing like their last outing with the David Friddman, the producer known as "the Fifth Flaming Lip." "David is a good producer," says Sparhawk. "He lets the band breathe and helps you push yourself. There was a lot of conversation homework, a lot of phone calls before we went in to record, just kind of me rambling and mumbling about whatever my concerns were and by the time we got to the studio he at least had me figured out a little bit and help us get on the right track and find what we were looking for."

Low is back from their adventure in rock with the new album, but this time they took a different approach in the studio than they have in the past. "You can hear drum machines and loops and there’s more dabbling in mechanical things," says Sparhawk. "We kind of assembled the record like a hip hop record." It's a departure from their usual method of sitting down in the studio, playing the songs as if playing for an audience, and fleshing them out as they go along. "After all these years I just sort of know all the patterns we’d fall into if we just do that so we decided to not do it that way," he says.

Sparhawk and Parker will tour this spring in support of the new album with current bassist Matt Livingston (also the bassist in a Sparhawk side project, Retribution Gospel Choir), but with one of their two children now in school, the future calls for changes. Sparhawk admits, "It’s getting more and more difficult to work out scheduling for touring." Regardless of whether or not they decide to really settle down, they will never give up music altogether. "It seems like music is just part of us," he says. "It’s kind of what our family has become and I think we’ll always have something that we’re doing in that realm."

For now, Low fans can relish Drums and Guns as a study of what has kept this band unique throughout the years. "There’s definitely a couple songs that, as far as recordings and stuff," says Sparhawk, "I definitely think are the strongest things that we've done."

— Jess Hemerly, April 2007

MySpace Virtual Demo [MacTribe]

MacTribe, January 2007 [Link Part 1 & Part 2], also appeared in MacTribe's first print edition.

How MySpace Connects Artists, Labels, and Fans

Teenagers adore it. Young adults use it to pass the time at lame desk jobs and track down people from their past. Predators use it to zero in on potential victims. Parents fear it more than any parent feared the Beatles and Elvis's gyrating hips combined, and other people just think it's a stupid waste of time and energy. So what could possibly make MySpace useful beyond worldwide Internet distraction?

Music, that's what.

Before the dawn of the Internet age, when everybody suddenly fancied themselves an expert in web site design, musicians looking to promote their work had to do so through analog means: demo tapes, flyers, performances at artist showcases, etc. And just because they got a gig or found an A&R exec who’d bite doesn’t mean they’d have the one thing that can keep a musician’s career going for a long time: fans.

The digital revolution made it easy to upload tracks to a server and put them on the Internet, where everybody has access to them. But band web pages required at least rudimentary HTML skills, and not everyone broke down and bought a copy of HTML for Dummies. Now, anybody with a few tracks, a computer, and an Internet connection can create a self-promotion music page thanks to the controversial juggernaut of a social networking site, MySpace.

A few months ago, I received a MySpace message from Karl Miles, a former high school classmate who I’ve been out of touch with for 7 years, asking me to go to his MySpace Music page and check out his tracks. He's starting a career as a solo folk artist and found me through the magic of MySpace. He wanted to know what I thought of his music so I went to his profile and listened to his tracks, played through the built-in mini player. Since he made them available for free I was also able to download them, save them to my computer, and play them for my friends.

Karl admits that part of the attraction to MySpace was its ease of use, having put off setting up a "real" site for far too long. And he doesn't subscribe to the delusion that MySpace will make him famous. "I find an open mic will generate more attention," he says. "It is more likely a person will hear about me some where else and check if I'm on MySpace." He certainly doesn't believe that MySpace is an easy way out of a musician's traditional struggle to be heard. "You still have to do leg work, play gigs," he says. "If you get a buzz outside MySpace maybe you can get one on MySpace. But I don't think MySpace will create one for you on its own."

Ezra Caraeff, owner of Portland-based indie label Slowdance Records, sees many bands are not as realistic as Miles. Instead they believe that a MySpace page and 400,000 friends is a quick ticket to Mick Jagger status. "I think a lot of bands think friends equal sales," he explains. "But those are the same bands who think emailing me to 'check them out' or 'you should sign us, we RoCk' [sic] is a good idea as well."

The problem with MySpace for many hopeful musicians is that the "adding friends" feature creates a false sense of audience, and with that false sense comes an inflated perception of fame. There are actually programs that crawl MySpace on a band’s behalf and add friends at random, an act equivalent to email spamming. "Since it's so lawless," says Caraeff, "it's a chance for these unknown bands to be on an even plane with known artists. Like, we don't have a record or play shows, but we have as many friends as Hoobastank." Caraeff also worries that the meaning of the word “friend” will be forever corrupted by the MySpace “friend” system.

Yet despite this grand delusion factor, Ezra's label insists that all of their artists have MySpace pages, most of which are maintained by interns. Even his label itself has a page, and Slowdance has used the bulletin feature to reach bands' audiences—although Ezra still thinks email blasts are more direct and consequently much more effective. A blog post on the profile—which touts the label as the "Best. Label. Ever."—begs musicians not to spam them with requests to listen to their tracks.

As the head of a label, Caraeff sees the proliferation of bands with little talent but a lot of friends as just another stage in the evolution of the music industry. "My brother used to work at Capitol Records and I remember going there when I was in like 10th grade and seeing crates of demos in this dumpster," he reminisces. "It's a very sobering thing. MySpace reminds me of that on a daily basis… so much delusion."

But not every band that’s active on MySpace is mired in delusion. One band that has found success via the Internet is Saosin, a post-hardcore band who got their start by posting tracks to a variety of Internet music forums. Their tracks caught on, and their first show was jammed with kids clamoring to see the band they'd heard on the Internet. They now have a deal Capitol Records and just finished their third Warped Tour.

Saosin maintains a MySpace page. In an interview with bassist Chris Sorensen he made it clear that the guys in the band actually use it. Part of the fun for Chris is the ability to listen to a band’s tracks on one page and then “go check out some hot babe’s page.” The band’s page boasts over 178,000 friends and actual band members answer messages.

Another up-and-coming band that actively uses MySpace is Holiday and the Adventure Pop Collective, an Americana group from the San Diego area that tours widely all over California. Recently nominated for the title of Best American Band for the San Diego Music Awards, band member Louis Caverly says they use it for at least an hour every day when they’re not on the road. “MySpace is a community and for any community to work you have to talk to the people,” says Caverly. “It is pretty rad to talk directly with folks, be it potential fans or possibly a personal hero that you stumble upon.”

At first it just seemed like an easy place to upload tracks but Caverly now believes that it is a great tool to have in the arsenal as they build their career. They will solicit potential fans but not by using a “friend adder.” Instead, they take the time to surf the site for people with tastes that match their style and for bands that play a similar kind of music. For them, it’s really about logging on and making it work. “MySpace will help us to increase our audience because if you use it, it works.”

Shawn Hatfield, an experimental electronic musician in San Francisco, has a similar philosophy when it comes to reaching out through MySpace. "I already had a personal page and figured it would be a good place to give my fans access to information on upcoming projects and also a way for them to feel like they've had a personal connection with me that goes beyond just owning the CD or record," he says. Hatfield has had offers to play gigs overseas through MySpace and believes that MySpace has the potential to help him gain enough attention to score larger gigs.

But how realistic is it that the music industry sees these band pages as anything more than must-have novelties for their artists? Well, if an artist catches the eye of an active MySpace user who happens to work in A&R (artist and repertoire, in case you have always wondered what it stood for), it’s very realistic. And such A&R reps do exist. Tony Kiewel, head of A&R for indie label SubPop, is one active user who believes that MySpace is something more than just a project for interns or a collective unheard cry for attention. "I definitely look at it to hear new stuff both as a fan of music and as an A&R guy," he says. "If I like a band I'll look at their page and often times end up listening to their friends’ bands that they have in the top 10 or whatever that little list is." So there's no algorithm that converts MySpace friends to record sales but who a musician is connected to and how may lead to an important discovery by the right person.

Kiewell also relies on the site as a research tool and a quick way to zero in on what people are listening to. "You can't Google 'The Books' and find anything helpful about the band without some serious digging," Kiewell explains. “If I go to MySpace and do a band name search I can find them in seconds." And it's not just a band bio that you'll find; it’s an interactive page full of information. "I can hear them. I can see where they're from. I can see who they're fans of," says Kiewell.

And for musicians, the ability to check out who other musicians are into makes it an extremely useful networking tool. Solo artist Lia Rose experienced this first hand when one of her favorite indie musicians, Damien Jurado, left a comment on her MySpace music page. “I could hardly believe it, and of course returned the sentiment with a comment on his page,” she says. That comment led to an interesting chain of events for Rose. A member of a band in Holland, Winterbirds, found Rose’s comment on Jurado’s page and they added each other as friends. “After about a year of corresponding,” she tells me, “he gives me an internet music challenge by sending a song with just guitar and inviting me to write lyrics and melody and send some vocals back.” This correspondence turned into a project called Weatherkingdom that, naturally, has its own MySpace page too.

MySpace is more than just another venue for Internet voyeurism—it is actually a fantastic tool for labels, fans, and artists alike. “The real take-a-ways include finding other artists to play shows with, Internet radio stations to spin our songs, industry contacts, far away friends and folks that can help our career grow,” believes Louis Caverly. And the recent announcement that MySpace has teamed up with Snocap to allow artists to sell their tracks directly through MySpace pages will only make things more interesting. “I think it will be the great equalizer for those bands that hoard ‘friends,’” Caraeff contends. “They will soon find out the sobering results of 40,000 friends and $6.00 in total downloads.”

But will the day come when a label “discovers” a band through their MySpace page? "It's totally possible," Kiewell of SubPop predicts. "It hasn't happened yet but I bet it will soon.”

— Jess Hemerly 2007

The Dears: Critics of Cool [Chord]

Chord [site currently down], Issue 40, November 2006

Gang of Losers is about the nerds, the individuals, the ones who are only uncool because they don't follow the herd. Aptly titled, it captures the experience of feeling like a loser, something even the cool kids can grasp.

If you ask The Dears' frontman Murray Lightburn what he thinks about the Canadian indie scene, he'll answer, "Why wasn't anyone asking about it ten years ago?" Maybe it's because a large chunk of the audience following today's surge of Canadian imports was still playing on jungle gyms ten years ago. "Canada is just a place," says Lightburn, but he adds, "The Dears have Canadian passports, for which we are truly grateful." It's no wonder, though, that Lightburn brushes the question off. His band is an aberration from saccharin-sweet pop embraced by today's popular Canadian indie bands. The Dears craft a unique sound from contemplative and dark lyrics layered over rich, orchestral compositions—and happen to hail from Montreal.

The sextet has also been at it for a lot longer than some of the other Canadian bands now popular in the United States and worldwide, but The Dears have remained largely under the radar. The core members of the band—Muray Lightburn, Natalia Yanchak, George Donoso, and Martin Pelland—have been working together for six years, when it first started as a sort of singer/songwriter vehicle for Lightburn. After a series of additional instrumentalists and guitarists who didn't quite fit, the complete lineup, which includes Valerie Jodoin-Keaton on keyboard and flute and Patrick Krief on guitar, has been together for two years. "The lineup we have now kind of feels like a 'forever' line up, very thick and thin," says Lightburn. "This lineup has been through the most shit together and even our road crew is like family. We would probably kill for each other."

While The Dears have been compared to Britpop bands like Blur and their frontman himself to Morrissey, the similarity is far from uncanny. He's not trying to emulate. He has taken something away from everything he's listened to, even the string and horn arrangements of Isaac Hayes tracks. "I think that in my case, music chose me—us, for that matter," says Lightburn. "Sometimes it's a blessing; other times, a curse." Like many musicians, Lightburn's relationship with music started at an early age. "The first song I remember barely singing was 'Oh Little Town of Bethlehem,'" he reminisces. "Apparently I made people cry. I was, like, five."

The impact he had on that church congregation may have been accidental, but the impact of his work today is not. Lightburn looked to achieve something that feels much more organic than the usual studio album that results from tweaking and splicing takes. Recorded in Lightburn's home, Gang of Losers is much more bare than No Cities Left, their acclaimed 2004 release, and 2000's End of a Hollywood Bedtime Story. Every song on the album is a single, continuous take of that track without edits or punch-ins. The texture on Losers comes partly from the intricate compositions, but also from the raw simplicity of the production process. It opens with "Sinthro," which sounds like the breakdown in an M83 track, and turns into a strong rock/pop album from track two on. The album is cohesive and successfully achieves Lightburn's goal.

Gang of Losers is about the nerds, the individuals, the ones who are only uncool because they don't follow the herd. Aptly titled, it captures the experience of feeling like a loser, something even the cool kids can grasp. He's frustrated by today's obsession with hip, a frustration succinctly captured by this bit from "Bandwagoneers": Heaven knows that I'm a freak / Heaven knows that we're all faking it. In the narrative "Ballad of Humankindness," Lightburn laments about the depressing state of nightly news and makes an appeal to humanity, crooning "I think it's time that we all learned forgiveness." Lightburn explains, "I write from a microscopically personal point of view because it's all I know. I vent because if I don't, my hands may wind up around some person's throat." The lyrics on Losers are poignant and sung beautifully in Lightburn's polished voice.

The music industry and the various scenes spawned from the way it functions seem to fuel his writing. His view of the industry is, in fact, rather grim. "Everyone is confused and no one knows what to like or what's any good. Majors, Indies, doesn't matter," he says. "The whole concept of the music industry is completely fucked. It's like a giant web that's been spun for a thousand years and we're all trapped. God help us." Could more bands like The Dears help break the industry's grim traditions? Let's hope.

— Jess Hemerly, November 2006

Saosin [Chord]

Chord [site currently down], Issue 39A (Warped Tour Special Issue), June 2006

Saosin began with a grassroots Internet campaign where band members posted MP3s to music message boards. "We didn't whore ourselves out," says Sorensen. "We just made it so people heard the music and didn't even necessarily know who the band was." Their viral strategy worked. Their first show, part of a local showcase, sold out. Kids lined the front of the stage, mouthing the words to the songs.

If you're not sure how to pronounce Saosin, you're not alone. Even the band's five members fluctuate between pronunciations—sometimes it's "say ocean," sometimes "say oh sin." But according to bassist Chris Sorensen, knowing their music is more important than properly pronouncing the name, which former lead singer Anthony Green adapted from the Chinese word for "be careful," xiaoxin (the literal English translation is "small heart"). One thing is for certain, though: while the recording industry struggles to compete with technology, these SoCal-based rockers used it to launch a career.

Saosin began with a grassroots Internet campaign where band members posted MP3s to music message boards. "We didn't whore ourselves out," says Sorensen. "We just made it so people heard the music and didn't even necessarily know who the band was." Their viral strategy worked. Their first show, part of a local showcase, sold out. Kids lined the front of the stage, mouthing the words to the songs.

Now with a Capitol Records deal and a spot at Warped Tour for the second year in a row, Saosin is in the studio working on their first full-length album to complement their two existing EPs. "The only expectations they have are that we have a good record," says Chris. "They really work with what we have instead of coming to us with some cookie cutter 'this works' type scheme."

Even as they gain momentum, they haven't forgotten their cyber beginnings. Saosin's MySpace page boasts nearly 140,000 friends. "The coolest thing about MySpace is that you can listen to that band and then go check out some hot babe's page," Chris chuckles. They also want to see other talented bands succeed. Their web-based "Open for Saosin" contest put unknown bands on the bill with them. "It's cool that they earned that show," says Chris. "The bands that worked really hard to do it are the ones that are going to try and make it." They'd love to do it again in the future.

Between an unexpected spot on the main stage and managing the merch table, driving, and setup, Saosin was overwhelmed at Warped in 2005. But despite surviving on little sleep, Chris considers it a pivotal moment in their career. "I think that tour was, financially and as far as gaining fans and exposure, our biggest moment so far." This year they plan to hire some people and appreciate Warped. You might even see drummer Alex and lead singer Cove swinging at pitches in the MLB batting cage, but not Chris. His skills behind the plate pale in comparison to his skills on bass, and he's hostile to America's pastime. "I'm an anti-baseball fan, and you can tell that to the Major League guys."

- Jess Hemerly, June 2006

Tour Essentials: Moneen [Chord]

Chord [site is down], Issue 39A (Warped Tour Special Issue, 2006)

The guys of Moneen are no strangers to the road. Fresh off the release of their second full-length album, The Red Tree, those in the know have flocked to Moneen's remarkable live performances for years. Moneen brings their emotionally loaded lyrics and the colossal dreads and potent sound of guitarist Chris "Hippy" Hughes—think My Bloody Valentine meets Minor Threat—to the MLB/Vagrant stage at this year's Warped Tour. Lead singer Kenny Bridges talks about three things you won't find the band without.

1. An arsenal of socks and underwear. With all of their experience on stage, you won't find the guys getting cold feet—or tolerating wet ones. "Soggy feet equal grumpy moods," says Kenny, "so socks are essential." Kenny admits, though, that rocking out commando is okay once in a while.


2. A butter knife. Forget the Swiss Army knife. The dull old butter knife is a necessity that you might need when you least expect it. And they're serious about it. "If we screw ourselves by not bringing a butter knife on tour again," Kenny threatens, "I swear I will quit the band." Just what they use it for remains a mystery, but apparently it's for more than just cheese and butter.


3. Something to pass the time. Kenny suggests a string. "Hours of fun. Tie knots, tie friends, tie shoes... endless possibilities," he says. Even a band on Warped Tour can find pleasure in the simple things, right? Maybe not... "What am I talking about, string sucks." Perhaps they help Chris take care of his dreads instead.

- Jess Hemerly

Thursday: Emo Boys Don't Cry [Noise Pop]

Noise Pop 2006 Festival Program

Perhaps it's their connection to home that's enabled the long-time friends to create such intensely personal music, going all the way back to Thursday's first release, Waiting, on Eyeball Records in 1999. Whatever the cause, the group's tightly-woven melodies—driven by the dynamic guitars of Tom Keeley and Steve Pedulla, the haunting bass of Tim Payne, and the thundering drums of Tucker Rule—bind with Rickly's soul-baring lyrics to make songs that connect.

Starting out as a bunch of 19-year old boys from New Brunswick, New Jersey, Thursday quickly grew from gigging in VFW halls and basements to playing on the main stage at 2002's Warped Tour. But despite the success of the post-hardcore group, its members are still small town boys at heart. "Now, being on a major label and spending so much time on the road, we still feel that need for connection to our home more than ever," says frontman Geoff Rickly. "The truth is it's still quite shocking to have done so much so early on."

Perhaps it's their connection to home that's enabled the long-time friends to create such intensely personal music, going all the way back to Thursday's first release, Waiting, on Eyeball Records in 1999. Whatever the cause, the group's tightly-woven melodies—driven by the dynamic guitars of Tom Keeley and Steve Pedulla, the haunting bass of Tim Payne, and the thundering drums of Tucker Rule—bind with Rickly's soul-baring lyrics to make songs that connect.

While the Cure is an obvious inspiration of the band, Rickly credits a '60s legend with encouraging him to get behind the mic. "Touring with The Cure was an unbelievable honor, and they surely are a huge influence on us, but the truth is that seeing footage of Janis Joplin when I was young really made me want to sing more than anything else in the whole world. It was the first time that I saw pure unrestrained passion that wasn't connected directly to masculinity like it was with Led Zeppelin or even the Who." With a little help from his punk vocal coach, CBGB punk diva Melissa Cross of Bibi Wa Moto, Rickly found a way to sing as expressively as the lyrics he wrote.

Thursday just finished its fifth major album, A City By the Light Divided, with producer Dave Fridmann (known as "the fifth Flaming Lip" for his legendary work with that band). "I believe it's the most beautiful and intense thing that I've ever been a part of," says Rickly.

Rickly is also excited to bring the "Shirts for a Cure" tour to this year's Noise Pop. The jaunt is helping raise money and awareness for the Syrentha J. Savio Endowment, which provides financial assistance to underprivileged women with need of breast cancer treatment and therapy. Just another example of small town boys making good. JESS HEMERLY

The Walkmen: A Fire Inside [Noise Pop]

Noise Pop Festival Program, February 2005

Following the breakup of underground favorites Jonathan Fire*Eater, organist Walter Martin, drummer Matt Barrick and guitarist Paul Maroon teamed up with singer/guitarist Hamilton Leithauser (Martin's cousin) and bassist Peter Bauer—who had been playing together as The Recoys—to form The Walkmen. Though the New York outfit has only been together since 1999, the guys have known each other since childhood. Leithauser met Barrick at summer camp back in fourth grade; he met Bauer in a DC park in ninth grade; and he was introduced to Maroon in high school when Maroon became the new guitarist in Martin's band.

"I called Walt on the phone when I realized that [The Recoys] weren’t gonna survive," explains Leithauser. "I said, 'Your singer is wack. I can do a better job.' He bought it, and a few months later we were in what became our studio, trying to get the ball rolling.

"This is what we have always wanted to do," continues Leithauser. "We've all been in bands since middle school, so we all knew that no one was going to out and out quit."

Armed with the remainder of their DreamWorks funding and backing from hopeful investors, the former Fire*Eaters bought a 600-foot space in what was once a Nash Rambler car factory in Harlem and converted it into Marcata Recording, which has been used by everyone from French Kicks to The Kills to, of course, The Walkmen.

"A lot of Harlem is really great," says Leithauser. "If you go north or south of Marcata you can find these fantastic old houses that are mainly on run-down, out of the way streets. It's right where Royal Tenenbaums was filmed."

As evidenced on both of their full-lengths, 2002's Everyone Who Pretended To Like Me Is Gone and last year's Bows + Arrows (Record Collection), The Walkmen vary their emphasis on guitar, drums and keys to create a sound that continues to move away from their previous bands' garagey tendencies. While they're often compared to early U2, their influences range from The Velvet Underground to Fugazi and The Make-Up. The Walkmen's sonic diversity was driven home by the first single off of Bows + Arrows, "The Rat," which is markedly different than the rest of the album.

"We try to keep our stuff as varied as possible," says Leithauser, "because inevitably it always ends up sounding like us."

In addition to a recent appearance on The O.C., the band has been in Marcata working on its next album.

"We have a bunch of groovy songs that are just gonna knock your socks off," promises Leithauser. "I hope it's very different from the last one, but we'll have to wait and see."

Leithauser says The Walkmen are looking forward to closing Noise Pop this year and enjoying everything that the Bay Area has to offer.

"San Francisco's one of the only places," he says, "along with Chicago and Miami, that I could see myself living outside of New York." JESS HEMERLY

The Walkmen headline Bimbo's 365 Club on Sunday, February 27th.