Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Girls Rock Detroit - Gear Day & Summer Camps

photo credit: Bri Kirkpatrick Photography 


Girls Rock Detroit
Summer Camp
Session One:  July 31—August 5
Session Two:  August 21—August 26
INFO: https://www.girlsrockdetroit.org/ 

Wanna attend?
Wanna volunteer?

Girls Rock Summer Camp Showcase, August 5th at Majestic Theatre

Coming up...



The Girls Rock team is opening up their considerable collection of gear (instruments, amps, mics, etc) and they'll be looking for volunteers to help, lift, tally, and possibly repair this gear, so that everything is ready for the incoming Summer Camp students.
INFO


poster art by Lisa Dubois
Girls Rock Detroit was founded in September of 2014 by Melissa Coppola, Rosalind Hartigan and Willa Rae Adamo. We are an LGBTQ friendly organization and strive to provide a safe, visible atmosphere for all. Girls Rock Detroit is a community organization dedicated to fostering girls' creative expression, positive self-esteem, and community awareness through rock music education and performance.


Over the weekend, I caught up with Melissa Coppola, who not only helps run Girls Rock Detroit, but also writes/records & performs as the drummer/singer of Ypsi-based post-garage/indie-pop duo JUNGLEFOWL, with her husband, guitarist Stefan Carr.

Thursday's are typically the days where I premiere a new single from a local band. JUNGLEFOWL let this one out on the internet about a month ago, but if you haven't heard it yet, check it out...


"We're looking at about 40 to 45 campers this year," Coppola said, "that's the most we've ever had! The showcase is going to be amazing; I can't explain how excited I am that it's going to be in the Majestic Theatre! The 8-year-olds I work with are going to make their debut on that stage!"

Coppola is the executive director of Girls Rock Detroit. Several years ago, she first volunteered for the Chicago chapter of this nationwide nonprofit alliance, where she met Detroit singer/songwriter Willa Rae (of Willa Rae & The Minor Arcana), and soon after met musician Rosalind Hartigan.

When she's not in JUNGLEFOWL, or Girls Rock Detroit, she's working on piano pedagogy (educating) with the University of Michigan School of Music. Stefan Carr, meanwhile, has 5+ years experience in music education, formerly serving as director at the School of Rock School in Farmington.

Coppola allows that certainly not every girl taught through Girls Rock are going on to be a member of the next amazing blow-up/buzz band..., but that what matters most of all is "the unifying factor at these camps; it brings people together and is a way to get girls together in a way that is not competitive, and lift each other up. It builds a community in which people are encouraging each other instead of tearing any one down."

Coppola said that the encouraging and welcoming factors of Girls Rock Detroit are what's most important. "Because," she said, "even now, it is still a made-dominated (music) industry, and when you see women playing, I still see folks being very critical... But Girls Rock is fostering a new generation of musicians that will think otherwise."

Carr agreed, saying that his role in music education enterprises like Girls Rock (or School of Rock) is fulfilling on a level that exceeds just performing, because through teaching the next generation of potential members of rock-bands, it's a deeper, more evident contribution toward pushing the music scene forward.

"The showcase is where the magic happens," Coppola said, looking forward to August 5th's big revue at the Majestic Theatre. "At every band's performance--I cry! There's a visible fusing of self-confidence that you can see in every performance. As soon as you start playing, all the nerves can go away and you start smiling and feeling confident and you see people nodding their heads in enjoyment and (the students) realize that the music they make is an opportunity to make other people happy with what makes them happy!"



Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Vidlings & Tapeheads Film Festival


Vidlings & Tapeheads


This Friday & Saturday, The Ghost Light and Ant Hall in Hamtramck hosts the inaugural Vidlings & Tapeheads Film Festival, a cultural exposition dedicated to celebrating contemporary artists working in unconventional narrative film. Notably, there's an impressive lineup of local musicians/bands & performers sutured into this avant-gardist cinematic carnival. Bands include Pewter Cub, Lt. Bad, Duane the Jet Black Eel, Isles of ESP and MORE. 

Fitting to the aesthetic of the films to be featured, each of these musicians/bands demonstrate a genre-defiant, rougher-hewed approach that is varyingly boisterous or eccentric or mood-modifying  in its essence/performance-style & sound. 

The films could be called cult, or indie, or even a bit weird. Above all, they're daring, and presenting stories in remarkably unique and creative ways. You can anticipate flavors and styles recalling iconic system-smashers like Terry Gilliam, John Waters, David Cronenberg, and the like... What you'll encounter is abstract or inverted treatments of the human condition, strange and refreshing new views of existence, and conceptual visual collages that will keep you thinking about them for day's after...It's not one genre. It's not even any genre. The content transcends the medium! 

There will be 43 short films over the two days at Ghost Light/Ant Hall. Screenings will take place throughout the day of July 8th, including lots of programs covering topics like documentary animation. Vidlings & Tapeheads is showcasing the engaging works of a progressive group of adventurous, boundary-defying filmmakers from around the country and the world. 

Friday & Saturday, July 7th & 8th, 2017
Ant Hall & Ghost Light
2320 Caniff Avenue, Hamtramck, Michigan 48212

LIVE MUSIC
Duane
Friday, July 7th, 2017
Duane the Jet Black Eel,
Lt.baD











Dear Darkness
Saturday, July 8th, 2017
Pewter Cub, Isles of ESP, Dear Darkness, Arthur Colvin, Betsy Soukup, BURNS, Plague Suns






For more information, please visit www.planetant.com
Or find the event on Facebook




Monday, July 3, 2017

"This Dizzying World" - Letters with Audra Kubat about Chris Bathgate

Letters shared between myself and singer/songwriter Audra Kubat, digging through a single song: the title track from Chris Bathgate's Dizzy Seas ~ which came out on Quite Scientific Records in May. 




Audra,
Hello again, dear friend…
“Dizzy Seas” – Title Track…

It starts so quiet; so soft. That first guitar phrase lilting there, innocent. Then a lower-end riff, distorted and agitated, crashes in like thunder. We’re in a furtive blues dirge… Chris, here, may be hitting his peak of inward-gazing self-contemplation. I believe that there is a sense of meditation to this song.

The guitars have such a suddenness to them, like a brisk drawing of dusty curtains to close out the daylight (or block out the neon-blaze of a busy city at night, either way…), and the singer searching to find a corner of his mind where he can just contemplate questions with his eyes closed.

While I’ve said enough about how grimace-y those guitars sound, I really want to get toward the chorus. This is a prime chance to compliment the auxiliary instrumentation of singer/violinist Samantha Cooper. It may be my favorite moment, just in terms of auditory pleasure, when Chris hits that chorus: “Even My Love…” and the violin sways and wafts its tender melody around his voice like lace or ribbons. It’s when the clouds break and a warm orange light spills in… It’s when the eyes can open. It’s when the singer feels…not peace, but an adjustment. Here he is, in a self-imposed darkness, (which sounds more Emo than it really feels when you listen), but more than just his weary eyes and eyelids adjust to this darkness… His love, even his love, adjusts…

In this song, we’re on a boat, we’re on the dizzy seas. It’s potentially the most dramatic or urgent or crucial moment of the album’s lyrical arc. Up, down, dark, light, stable, dizzy, focused, distracted, awake, asleep… In his meditative throes, he seems to be detached from the absolutes of being required to render verdicts on himself, in terms of emotional baggage, ghosts in his mind, regrets from his past, doubt… The song becomes all about “his love…” If that meditation invites a circumstance of suspending certainty, than it becomes, I feel, about realizing that the only certainty we’ll have is the love that we can give…, to anyone, to friends, to lovers.

Not that I want to psychoanalyze him, but I wonder if Chris’ biggest regret was happened upon during a ruthless audit of his acceptance, his management, and his utilization OF….love, of compassion, of romance, of any kind of love. I feel like the singer of a song like this wakes up the next day with his energies refocused…

But, in one closing note, I love how those guitars at the end, delicately cascading, can almost sound like tinny steel drums… It charms me to no end. “Even My Love!”

sincerely
-jeff

------

Jeff!


Chris' songs aren't straight forward. The story is there, but it takes some work to turn the pages. There is so much happening that is not reflected in the lyrics, but through the lyrics you can discern those things waiting between the lines. 'Til the questions starts to speak: Do I sail a dizzy sea?' From this lyric, I am thinking about life lived in a world that is unstable. 'Do the waves roil over me?' Does this world shake me up, disturb or agitated my sedentary mind? These are questions that suggest the search. I also have this feeling that Chris is talking directly to us. That this is his statement on the meaning of life.

He makes me think about this, and then there is that chorus: 'Even my love'. For me this is a declaration that even the love that one has inside or around them is not enough to bring clarity or understanding of the world out there, this dizzying world. The repeating of this line really highlights the intention. It seems a place where all other ideas have been expended, and the last hope was that love could save, yet it is still not able to still the room, bring peace, or answers.

Lines that start with 'if, where, how' add to the idea that this song is on the hunt. The open snare hits that linger, then snap closed, align with the questions, the searching. That feeling of being suspended for a few moments as you get lost in a thought, and then that shift, as something outside you pulls you back.

I, too, love the gentle guitars that entice us to enter, only to deposit us into depths of a mind that is spinning. The gritty electric guitar that hits, redirecting this song. I like your description for it – 'furtive blues dirge'. Yes, that guitar thunders in, sets a dark and seedy tone. We are locked and we follow the melody as it slowly, while falling, ascends towards the chorus – so light compared to the verses. Even though the lyric, holding so much weight in this small space, is exhausted, the music is working in another direction. It is lightening the load, it is giving us some fresh air. It lasts just long enough for us to stay conscious. Then the grit of the electric pulls us under again. This music is doing a lot of work here. Chris is masterful at giving us tiny moments of musical reprieve in the midst of emotional obstacles and mind-bending riddles.

I am most interested in the last few lines of the last verse. Chris is talking about diving into the corner of ones mind, watching the intersections, seeing how memories become etched. How our secrets belong to us and 'come to bed' with us. Then 'In the dark for long enough, more than the eyes adjust' – the air is sucked out of my lungs, I feel the blow to the chest. Here it is, the point – we can get used to anything. We can sit in the darkness for long enough that it becomes the light. The idea that we can get so used to something that it becomes normalized. Abuse can become ordinary and being loved can become passé. This speaks to me in a global way. This song plays as a personal journey into ones own self-contemplation, but it also seems to mirror a very human condition of becoming accustomed. I will accept this song as a reminder that just because you can get used to something does mean you should.


Until next time!


Audra

Sunday, July 2, 2017

Glittery Messes - New Stef Chura Vinyl


Detroit's own Stef Chura is capping off what's been a break-out year with a special, very limited run of pink bubble liquid-filled coke-bottle clear vinyl versions of her debut album, released by Fonoflo Records. This trippy, artful incarnation of her album, Messes, includes a full color double-sided 12x12" insert with lyrics and a portrait of the singer.

Oh, and she was on Daytrotter, recently... 

And she's going to cap off a tour with The Drums by appearing at this year's MoPop Festival in July. 



The Messes artwork, given that characteristic dreamy-dayglo hue by artist Molly Soda, lends itself to this splashy, glittery aesthetic that Fonoflo presents... I also think that "Faded Heart," a single that didn't get as much attention as "Spotted Gold," has this perfectly fitting wavy/hazy tonality to not only the guitar effects but also in Stef's vocal performance; again, I'm just trying to abstractly connect that to the surfy/seafoam vibe of these new vinyl pressings... (Hey, way back before Messes blew up, I actually talked about "Faded Heart" over at Paste).





You can find some of this vinyl at her merch table on tour, or you can order it here.

These versions are available on her tour with the Drums (tour dates here), but Fonoflo has some copies available for sale. The liquid-filled version is selling for $99, while the glitter version sells for $70. Both augment Messes' Molly Soda-designed sleeve nicely.

ALSO, in case you missed it, here's an interview with Stef, by Amanda LeClaire, host of WDET's Culture Shift, from back in April

photo by Molly Soda
Stef Chura tour
w/ The Drums^
7/13 Minneapolis, MN @ 7th Street Entry
7/16 Spokane,WA @ The Bartlett
7/17 Seattle WA @ Neumos^
7/18 Vancouver BC Venue^
7/19 Portland, OR @ Wonder Ballroom^
7/21 San Francisco,CA @ The Fillmore^
7/22 Los Angeles, CA @ Bootleg
7/23 Phoenix, AZ @ Valley Bar
7/29 Grand Rapids, MI @ Tour de Fat Festival
7/30 Detroit, MI @ MoPop 2:15pm

Thursday, June 29, 2017

Song Premiere: Two Cheers' "Too Late"



Tomorrow night, local quintet Two Cheers are performing at PJs Lager House, part of the 2nd annual Corktown Strut festival. The evening's performance doubles as an Album Release Party for their latest, Rollick (which will be available digitally/officially on July 14th).

A couple weeks ago, they released the first single, "No Good at Talking,"  but TODAY, we're continuing our Thursday Singles Series with another new Two Cheers track called "Too Late."



Two Cheer is led by singer/guitarist Bryan Akcasu, an Ann Arbor native who started this project several years ago while he was establishing himself as a songwriter/performer out in L.A. He returned to the Detroit area a few years ago, having completed/released the first Two Cheers album while based on the west coast.

The current lineup includes Austin Lutzke, Carlton White, Megan Marcoux, and Owen Bickford. They followed up 2015's Splendor with a three-part series of singles, and this is back when I first properly featured the group on this site.

There is simultaneously so much effervescence, and yet so much heavy emotion, to most Two Cheers' songs. The rhythm has brio and bouyancy, the guitar hooks are instantly locked into brain and those dreamy synths just coax you to glide away with them, over the curvatures of catchy, bounding melody. And it surprised me that Akcasu admitted to, at least in the earliest stage of his songwriting, a reluctance to share or a shyness to perform, given all that palpable feeling and energy that's audibly evident in his vocal performances (either on record or on stage).

But those melodies often have a shimmy, the drums have such a punch, the bass has this slick groove, and the guitars interweave these sleek threads with the synthesizers to forge a cinematic swell across the top of most tracks.



Two Cheers perform Friday at PJs Lager HouseINFO


Interview with Bryan Akcasu


Those echoey synth whirls catch you immediately in "Too Late." And then a driving beat kicks in through the verses that vault into these charming guitar tones cresting backward with just the right amount of bracing reverb.

Akcasu's emotive vocals and the middle/high registers he hits in an achey croon have often caused bloggers, critics, or whoever else, to suggest an influence of 80's new-wave pop. In his youth, he would assemble several mixtapes with the complex/catchy post-punk & dream pop jams of bands like New Order, Cocteau Twins, Siouxsie & The Banshees, The Church, The Sundays, and more... But there's a need for catharsis. There's healing power in music. And, as Akcasu told me in this latest interview, its something he needed to embrace, if at least on Rollick... 

Bryan Akcasu: It has been something I have embraced so far, at least during the first few years of Two Cheers’ existence. People tell me all the time that I sound like Robert Smith and look like Morrissey, which I think is a blessing and a curse because it’s kind of a cool comparison and people usually mean it in a good way, but it’s also not something I actually strive to achieve — it’s mostly biological. And it does get a little tiresome because as an artist I want to be breaking away from things that have been done before and pursuing a sound and style that is totally originally. I think with each release I get closer to that.

With all the changes I’ve had in life lately, it’s kind of a comfort to bring back a bittersweet chorused-out guitar tone or a lush synth string patch that calls to mind simpler times, or reminds me of my mom or childhood in general.

Can you talk about the ways in which Two Cheers, and the songwriting process, have helped you get through a turbulent two years? Has music come to mean more to you, or come to attain a different meaning to you over the years? 

Akcasu:
I think music has the power reconnect your mind to a part of your soul that can help you heal yourself, if that makes sense. I find this really hard to comment on, because it gets into really personal territory — but for me music is like a religious thing, it’s only an expression of my spirit, the way I live, my philosophy and the way I see the world. Those are the things that really helped me get through the past few years, and the things I derive meaning from in my life, but Two Cheers is only part of that, a manifestation of that. In that sense, music itself has come to mean less in some ways, but at the same time it plays a more poignant and specific role that it used to. It doesn’t consume me like it did when I was a teenager, but it’s no less potent.

That said, something about the songs “Hinterland” and “Rest Of My Life” seem very mysterious to me, as one came to me in a dream and the other is made up of little details, quotes, and notes I wrote into my phone during my mom’s last days. It’s like I didn’t write them, or I couldn’t write them, so some invisible hand took the reins and did it for me. That loss has been really hard to process, and being able to assemble something coherent out of the chaos of my thoughts and feelings surrounding that was kind of a relief.

Talk about what was difficult, or rewarding, or fun, or intense -about making this record. Singing a lyric like "...this is the rest of my life..."  is heavy when you think about it, outside of the context of a pop melody. 

Akcasu: I put that song “Rest Of My Life” last because I’m marking this moment in time — the end of the record, the end of a hard year, the end of an era maybe. Things in my life, and things in my heart, have changed so much since starting the record, and I think the record captures that to some degree.

I always say to my wife, “Good news! This is the first day of the rest of my life!” and she laughs because it’s kind of a joke, but you’re right, it’s also one of the heaviest things you can say if you mean it. The rest of your life might be 70 years, but maybe it’ll be only a few days, we just don’t know — and I want to always live with that in mind, because it makes me more sensitive, more aware, more conscientious, and more grateful. If there is a thread linking these songs together, or all Two Cheers songs for that matter, it’s that sentiment: I don’t have to take my life for granted, or the people around me, or my environment. This is all I have, this one life, and I am going to invest an ultimate meaning into it.

There's a lot of emotion, existentialism, honesty... in the lyrics especially. What gave you the comfort/courage to embrace the more forthright/emotional delivery--lyrically speaking

Akcasu: 
It partly comes back to what I want to listen to when I listen to music — pure humanity, raw emotion, unfiltered heart. I don’t think humans invented music to convey irony or display their whit or technical skill. So much so-called indie music is too intellectual for me, or the emotion is too hidden and guarded. Maybe it’s unfair to be scrutinizing the motivations behind a song, but what I’m interested in is what bubbles over from inside people and spills out into the world, into their art.

I have very powerful emotions about things I really care about in my life that I have to channel into something, and when I sing I become possessed by it. I have to be fearless about it if I want to make music for people like me who have the same emotions but for whatever reason don’t have a way to express it. I sing about things like confronting death, learning to be devoted, celebrating friendship, and rediscovering personhood… Things I consider crucial and really fire me up. My only regret is that I have often couched my message in poetic language or vignettes in order to restrain myself a little — I’m not sure if I should do that anymore. Maybe I’ll just come out with it in the future!

On Friday, fans can experience Rollick during Corktown Strut. What was the creation process like, what was the experience of making it like...?

Akcasu: 
Rollick was written and recorded 100% in my basement here in Michigan. We started doing some jams in February of 2016, and we had about 20 or so interesting ideas by June, and that’s when I started to make songs out of the best of those ideas.

For this record, we wanted to make the songs a little more diverse than they were on Splendor, like explore different moods, styles, and arrangements, but still have that element of instant gratification and lyrical depth that our older songs have. We also wanted the influences of the new group to show through, and harness our different musical interests. Meanwhile, I started out with a vision for the kind of vibe the album as a whole should have and the kinds of themes I wanted to explore to link the songs with a common thread, but as the year went on that became harder and harder because of things happening in my personal life. But I like how the album expresses that instead: you can really hear a range of genuinely different moods and narratives. So, it’s kind of bi-polar, kind of a variety show — but life has been like that lately!

In terms of what influences you... what do you listen for?

Akcasu:
...What I listen for and what I try to capture is sincerity and a glimpse into the innermost spirit. The music I like best is from-the-heart; music that has a willingness to be emotional, exposed, raw, and individual.

In terms of...what you do, when you approach songwriting... What's that like? And what's your relationship to pop music? Do you embrace it?

Akcasu: 
I try to write really catchy, infectious music first and foremost: music that on first listen can pull anyone in with a good melody, riff, or beat. In that sense, it could be considered “poppy”. But a lot of pop music just stops there, like the lyrics are kind of an afterthought or the arrangements are hackneyed. Maybe that is what is problematic for some people, like hipsters or people that want to be challenged intellectually. I don’t think Two Cheers stops there though, either musically or lyrically; I like making music that is deceptively simple in that the first impression is that it is easily digestible but upon repeated listens you can find layers of texture and complexity that are working behind the scenes. If anyone thinks Two Cheers is just disposable pop music, I defy them to read some of our lyrics!

What's up next for Two Cheers? What's the goal for the rest of the year?

Akcasu: 
My goal right now is just to get as many people to hear this record as possible and have a fun album release show at Corktown STRUT on June 30th. That said, I do have some very definite ideas where I want to go musically and lyrically, and I’m already starting to work on new material…

www.two-cheers.com
facebook.com/twocheers
soundcloud.com/two-cheers
twitter @twocheersmusic
instagram @twocheers

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Twin Peaks: "It may be the key to what this is all about"

I woke up surprisingly nightmare-free after Part 8 of Twin Peaks: The Return. 




I'm a little taken aback; almost afraid, in this weird way, to admit that this might be what I've always wanted from David Lynch. To "return" to the essence of Eraserhead-grade hallucinatory sequences, where nothing was spelled out for you, if only because the tangibility of reality, and thereby, your own language to describe what your seeing, falls away.

Part 8, "Gotta Light," was an hour-long episode with about 13 minutes of perceivable plot and dialogue. The rest was your own trip. I mean, it was David Lynch's trip, you and I were just stowaways. At this point, certainly, anyone "returning" to Twin Peaks with pedestrian nostalgia for the first two seasons is now realizing that they just got back in line for what they thought was another trip down a fun, safe plastic water-slide and instead were nailed into a barrel and bobbed down the tides towards a beastly, rocky waterfall of seemingly infinite elevation.



Does David Lynch want to show us the coinciding origin stories of both the Black Lodge and Twin Peaks? It's all up to his own whims, at this point, so he will fill in whatever blanks that HE feels like filling in - but he's going to do so in his own language.

That language includes:.... whirling through the virulent caverns of an atom bomb in perpetual/frozen detonation; .....visions of a convenient store (referenced in the first two seasons) that could tie into the ramblings of "Mike" about our most famous inhabitants of the Black Lodge; .....another glide across the dreamy purple ocean towards a Neptunian/Guggenheim-ish castle on a rocky cliff (is this the White Lodge???) ....where an alarm from a disturbing obelisk quietly notifies the character we recognize as "The Giant," to go survey an instant replay of said-A-Bomb (set off in 1945) on a haunting canvas screen inside an empty, ornate theatre where you can just about taste the space-dust off the walls....

And....then we go to..., and I don't want to get too deeply into this, but...., the possibility of some kind of seed, a golden sphere containing the image of Laura Palmer, being shot down toward the North American continent from space... From there, jumping ahead to 1956, we have frog-legged scarab beetles scurrying towards an eventual cringe-worthy entry into the mouth of a tranced-out/sleeping little girl, and a bunch of burnt-faced Woodsmen scurrying across the desertscapes of Mexico, one of them eventually taking to the airwaves and reciting, at least 10 times, the spookiest stanza I've heard in recent memory....

And every word of the last two paragraphs has no definitive meaning, YET. Every word of those last two paragraphs strings together as though it were my own dream journal. You'd think I sound crazy, but it's something that I, and a couple million other viewers just watched on a television screen, last night.

Someone once wrote that Eraserhead is only 89 minutes long, and that that's as many different meanings or symbols one could potentially decipher from its feverish, living-painting-like drifts.

I'll just say this... What I found to be one of the most interesting and disturbing features of this episode was the sequence of these molten ghost men, hundreds of them, or just 10 of them doing fitful circles, sped up to blurring speeds as they came and went, entered and exited, stood, scurried, and returned, to the front of this gas station. David Lynch has always had a proclivity for stillness. Quiet scenes that linger, characters that just stare off into nothing or stare down the camera... Dialogue spread apart. Scenes drawn out. Slowly. This episode had moments of the slow and the quiet, but when these men, these creatures, these apparent ancestors or first inhabitants of the Black Lodge, came on screen for their three big scenes, it was their suddenness that frightened me most...

And frightened is too strong a word. Frightened doesn't describe the predominant emotion resonating after last night's episode. But it feels close, doesn't it? The kind of perplexing fright you feel after a nightmare.

What I'll leave you with...
The Woodsman is intent on repeating: "Gotta light?" Laura Palmer's face is in an orb of light. And then there's this....

Monday, June 26, 2017

We Drift Away with Chris Bathgate's "Northern Country Trail"

Hello again, and welcome to the 5th installment of our epistolary review of Chris Bathgate's Dizzy Seas.  

Audra Kubat drafted herletter to me on a late summer evening after a return from up north. Just as it did with me, the song sparked surprising emotions. 



This song is called "Northern Country Trail"
Listen:





Hello again, Audra

The first thing I wrote to Chris, after Quite Scientific premiered this song as the first single off the album, was that I would admittedly delight in the alternative of having those looping, swelling, barreling guitar tones that fill the first 90 seconds extend onward for the entirety of the song's nearly 7-minute drift. I admire the production here, the way the sound evokes a sense of something rising, and then enveloping you. It's a supremely effective attention-getter, and tone-setter.

Sometimes I'll awaken in the morning, before sunrise, and my brain is almost spilling over itself with thoughts. They could be anticipatory, anxious, or even content. They could be excitement, or even distress. But so many emotions are whirlpooling around in the early hours of the morning--and I feel like that's what these three guitar strands are doing as they pirouette together. The song, we should note, is about the "thoughts" that are weighing on Chris' mind. So much of the album is about clearing his head, and this one may be the kicker, in that department. Whereas last week, when we discussed "Hide," it was more of a confession. I still feel like that song has a kind of guilt, for lack of a more delicate word, that is not quite absolved. I feel like "Northern Country Trail" finds that absolution.

The song certainly feels, at least, that it is finding something. The drums sync perfectly to the way you or I would stride  our way up a slanted hill on a hike through the woods, while the ambient guitars and sublime pianos billow around us - it's a very 360-degree kind of song, where you feel as if, stopping at that splendid moment of the 5:00-marker, that if you turned around in your chair, you'd see your very own foot prints from the previous verses.

If "Hide" is the breaking of emotions, the sort of breakdown, or the weep... This song is a boost in those relieving chemicals you feel flush through your system after a good, hard cry. Now that I've written that sentence, I wouldn't want to misrepresent this album, or tracks 5 and 6 as predominantly "sad..." It's much more complex than that. This song, without putting a more poetic spin on it, is a dispeller of spiritual toxins, for me... And maybe for Chris. He's leaving something behind here, or at least trying to. But I feel like he essentially does a full circulating lap of these woods, searching through tunnels of olive green, only to return. But he sounds as though he's returned to a spot resembling from whence he began.... Only a clearer head, a lighter soul. At least, that's what I want to feel--that's what those pianos make me feel. Those pianos are crying in this song, even if Chris isn't. And that cry, when the eyes are dried, feels SO relieving......

with goosebumps and ruminations,
sincerely yours,
-jeff


----


Jeff!!

The opening sounds like a cascade of memories, repeating and reminding. Thoughts caught in a curve that bends around and crosses itself. The opening guitar loops seem to be working in a few different capacities here. Yes, they suggest a pattern that one returns to, but they also hypnotize as if watching a spiral turning and you're lost, unable to turn away.

Then time almost stops, Chris' voice walks in, and the song shifts. We follow the path and as the thoughts drift, green tunnels into the mind, places from the past, kisses remembered. Then the guitar takes over, sings the lead and we are left suspended, whirling yet not unsupported. I am in a kind of day dream and suddenly I am thinking about my past, my love and loss, my pain and regret. The room I am sitting in dissolves, my eyes close, and the music become the lens in which I can view these memories. I am completely engrossed in my process and then...

All goes quiet (almost) for a split second and I snap back to the comfort of a voice that is not my own. I feel I'm being waken and that as I try to understand the connections (patterns between what we get and what we give), I am back on the trail, surrounded by green. All the thoughts I was lost in disappear (for now).

I agree, this song seems to be about trying to let go of something, but finding that it will always be a part of you. We may hope to escape during a walk through the woods, but memories are etchings that can't be removed. They have their own agenda and surface at will.

This music seems to mirror the experience that is 'remembering'. The opening that rings in repeating loops, the first verse that leads us into the emotional tunnel, the instrumental verse that gives us time to live inside ones own thoughts, and then we are brought back. Chris reminds us that we are still walking down the same trail, but we know we are in a different place.

This song ends with no words and no voice. The guitar comes, tries to pull you back into the dream. Languid velvet swells and the piano sings reveries. It plays out just shy of taking you. You're left with the taste in your mouth, but can't quite recall the exactness of where you just were.

For me this song brought up things that I had tucked away. Things I thought had no hold on me came streaming back. A great song does that. Makes you examine yourself. This is the kind of song that makes you feel different after you hear it.

It is through tears that I say 'thank you, Chris', for writing a song that unlocked something in me that needed my attention. I am going to leave it there.

Until next time,

Audra



Sunday, June 25, 2017

Mega Powers - World Tour (The Blue Tape) (Single ft Daniel Monk - "Rythmique 93"

photo by Andrew Miller


A key component to the cultural resurgence emanating out of the Corktown neighborhood is Assemble Sound. Just over three years ago, the cooperative of creative song-makers moved into a 150-year-old church beside Roosevelt Park and have since become a turbine of experimental and invigorating music - humming with collaboration as a petri dish where all kinds of uncanny chemistry between different stylists can fuse and flourish together.

Mega Powers is a big part of that... Producers/DJs/beatmakers/hip-hop mavens such as Eddie Logix and Pig Pen have been meticulously honing their individual crafts for several years before they came together two years ago as an uncommon combine of post-trip-hop odysseys bedecked with deep breath bass booms and hypnotic beats.

Pig Pen has been at it for a decade, having worked with Nolan The Ninja, Miz Korona, Elzhi, and many more. Eddie Logix, meanwhile, reflects that resume perfectly, with similar hip-hop credentials aligned with Doc Waffles, Of Mice and Musicians, Passalacqua and more.

Their newest album, their second in less than a year, glides with mind-expanding instrumentals mixing together percussive styles stiched from funk and R&B.

"Deep In," one of their original instrumentals that doesn't feature a cameo from one of their Assemble friends, is a definite stand-out, as an exceptional piece presenting their interweaving visions, with a rollicking, locked-in beat snapped into this synthetic hand-clap as a subtle, sleek funk guitar chords itself barely audibly below. Until we get to the bridge, where there are some trippy-vocoder vocals, it's as if the expressive bass groove is actually the veritable lead vocal throughout. But the sweetness comes when they start drawing in all these curtains of dreamy purrs and wails from their galaxy of synths. The co-arranging/co-triggering process is a delicate one, but they seem to read each other so well.

On July 1st, you can hear the songs from World Tour (The Blue Tape) at the UFO Factory (part of Corktown Strut, and amid a lineup curated by Assemble Sound for that evening of the festival).

First track off The Blue Tape, "Rythmique 93" featuring Daniel Monk streaming now on soundcloud.




World Tour (The Blue Tape) continues their series of cassette tape releases with original instrumentals by this dynamic duo. Guest appearances on this album include The Dropout, Alexander Lynch, Humons, Sleepless Inn, and Daniel Monk.

You'll be able to hear these tracks next weekend at Mega Powers' bandcamp, or find them in stores like Hello Records during Corktown Strut.

...can't wait for you to hear these tracks!

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Song Premiere: Ancient Language - "Fear For Love"

Ancient Language were at a tipping point last summer. And it seemed that Christopher Jarvis was too: Departing Detroit for the adventure of Arizona a year ago, the producer/keyboardist/electro-wizard and founding member of Ancient Language went off to follow his second (non-musical) passion of film/videography.

This summer, the band, with Zachary Jarvis and Matthew Beyer, are still at a tipping point--just, now, toward a different direction, than before...


Ancient Language:
left to right: Chris (Jarvis), Matthew Beyer, Zach (Jarvis) 


The band, which started out in 2011 as just Jarvis' own arrangements on keyboards/drum-machines and laptops, soon evolved into a solid live presentation cerebral/funk/dream-pop, as a duo, with his brother Zachary on a formidable electric bass. But not long after that, Matthew Beyer would join, adding his atmospheric skronk/jazz-saxophone, and Matthew Hofman would cast a dazzling auxiliary cloud of spacey intonations on guitar.

They were at that moment... The band, its sound, its signature, had seemed to congeal. They just about packed out the Marble Bar for a release party of 2016's EP everybody forgives everyone for everything with its keen hybridist's sensibility for spilling out chill, contemplative, danceable, and diverse pop/electronica vibes...

But then Jarvis moved out of town, and it seemed like a new career, or at least a second option (film, rather than music) was taking shape out in Arizona. Among a handful of projects, he composed the score for a film that screened at Sundance. I wondered when Jarvis might come back; I wondered when we might here some more music from Ancient Language....

I've delayed it WAY too long. But let's get RIGHT to it...
Ancient Language are BACK. They're performing next weekend at Corktown Strut.
AND, continuing our Thursday Singles Premiere series, I'm excited to share their latest:
"Fear For Love"




And so here is "Fear For Love..."
The ambient swell from those synths opens things up, until an otherworldly xylophone leads in before a furtive drum march. These urgent percussive elements harmonize over the calmer, breathing synthesizers before the most distinct aspect of "new Ancient Language" heaves in--that being the lead vocals of Beyer. His subtly soulful, airy voice seems so perfectly matched to the sonic landscapes that Jarvis has created that its almost a wonder they hadn't considered going this route from the beginning.

Beyer's delivery evokes a sense of being swept off with a gale, until that guitar crests in like a bracing wave, something not as pretty as the synths or bass, but more guttural; cathartic. The cinematic drama slices in at the second verse when synthetic-violin sounds saw into a strange harmony with a twinkling riff, before it settles down into this pocket in the bridge where the bass can bloom and the percussion starts weaving tighter, transforming what was once ambient and swooning, into a trancelike propulsion-- Something to dance to..., move to....

While we have an interview with Chris Jarvis below, we should note that the song you're streaming while visiting this site was written by the other two-thirds members of Ancient Language-- Beyer, and Zach Jarvis.



Interview w/ Christopher Jarvis



"Fear For Love" is such a departure from when you were on The Milo Show, where you did "Alive Tonight." What influenced this shift? Was it Arizona? Something else that had been bubbling up? 




Christopher Jarvis:    Playing your show was the first time we performed as a 4 piece but when I first started writing that album I didn't intend on playing it that way. Having Matt (Beyer) fully onboard from the beginning, for this album, it just sort of naturally shifted into the direction we're going in now. I do agree this single is unlike anything we've done before. I just thinks its a result of more collaboration happening. Matt and Zach (Jarvis) wrote Fear For Love. Zach and I wrote the rest of them together, which was new. I think with every album we're getting closer and closer to the music we want to be to be making.



When the new songs were coming together, what kinds of conversations were you, Matt, and Zach? What was weighing on your minds, or serving as your main muse, over this last year?

Jarvis:     Most of the conversations we had were about feeling and tone, conveying emotions, making something that hopefully people can connect with and relate to. What inspires me right now is collaborating. I love hearing what my friends come up with. It's always surprising and nothing like anything I'd ever think of. That's what really excites me right now. I used to be kind of a control freak and wanted to control every aspect of a song or production. Learning to let go and relinquish some of that control to people I trust has been incredibly rewarding.



That Corktown Strut set from last year was an interesting sorta time-stamp/marker. Now, one year later, with both you and singer James Linck, with whom you've collaborated, returning after both having left Detroit, what's that feel like? I mean..., talk about just the experience of being away, of working in another art form for a while, of being an a new environment and how influenced the way you were thinking about or approaching music...

Jarvis:    I was so isolated in Arizona (that) I'm not really sure how much of that environment made it into the album, I'm sure it must have in ways I can't quite see. But we wrote most of the music before I moved there and we've just been steadily chipping away, making changes, rewriting, adding and subtracting, getting the arrangements just right. We wrote 2 of the songs in Arizona. But: ...music is music. We did approach writing differently this time, but I don't think it necessarily had anything to do with our environment. We knew we wanted to do something different with this album even before I moved there.




What about after Corktown Strut? What's up next for Ancient Language? 

Jarvis:    The rest of the year we'll just be finishing up the album. There's still a lot of work to do. There's quite a few musicians playing on it so it's taking some time but it's going to be worth it. Other than that we'll probably play a few shows and hopefully release the album before the end of the year.

Ancient Language

Monday, June 19, 2017

Epistolary Review with Audra Kubat: "Hide" -by Chris Bathgate




Hello again, and welcome to the 5th installment of our epistolary review of Chris Bathgate's Dizzy Seas.  Audra Kubat wrote a letter to me while in the passenger set of a car coming all the way down from Mackinac Island on one of the hottest days of Spring....

This song is called "Hide"
Listen:




Audra,

This is the big one. I mean, I knew, after my first two spins of this record that THIS would be the most affecting, the strongest stirring of the senses, of all of the songs on Dizzy Seas. It’s like I was trying to hide from “Hide.”

I feel my entire insides whirl, and I'm compelled to heave the heaviest and deepest sigh I've ever exhaled. I asked Chris about the time it took him to put this album together and I was so surprised that him admit it was only a year or less, and that surprise mostly sprung from this song. The slow drape of this song, the way it flourishes and evaporates, as much as it ebbs and flows, feels so elemental, feels so imposing, feels like such a swelling for the soul, that I hypothesized its inception to have occupied countless hours, months, and at least multiple years. We mentioned how he’d challenged himself in “Beg,” and how it had a bit of a dark-night-of-the-soul sort of self-revelation. Oh my… “Oh my…” That song doesn’t come close to the reckoning here.

I have to say it again. Reckoning. I want the word to catch in my throat like stunted thunder; I want it to sting as I say it…I want rest and meditation to follow the echo of it when I half-scream it… This song has just wrung me out…, and I feel its ambient billows and thrumming guitars are the epitome of the dizzying effect… It’s like I didn’t even fully understand the word, “reckoning,” until I was able to detach myself, while listening to this song, and glide around in a fog of deep(er) contemplation.

What hits me most about this song is its predominance of subtlety over a specificity... Whereas I can namedrop several singer/songwriters who have put out exemplary “sad songs” that tell very detailed, very personalized stories, with narrative arcs and final acts of tragedy, “Hide” has power in its emptier spaces. This song is the clearing in the middle of the album’s deeper woods, where the loud quiet, the almost-unsettling echoes of wilderness, create this droning symphony of varying woozy melodic clamors and soft swoons. There seems to be such a give and take between two guitars, one of them more of a steady purr, the other crying softly towards the top of the mix. And that just leaves me with Chris’ voice…

This song goes way past the five-minute mark and yet there are only 30 words in the lyrics. The most poignantly punched element of his singing, here, is the way he affects the chorus, with that subdued wail: I had to listen to it so many times before I realized he was articulating the word “Hide…” When all I thought I heard, all I wanted to hear, all I needed…to hear…was a human voice, heaving…

There’s regret, here. There’s confession. There’s penitence. The guilt isn’t for any mortal sin, at least as society would consider it, but he is certainly admitting a nuanced kind of, well, this is a strong word, but: shame. No, that’s too strong a word. It’s a disappointment with past behaviors, for sure. But I want to emphasize what really pulls me about this song—his vocal performance. The space that all these cicada-like guitars gives his voice allows for the feeling of it to burst in slow motion. I feel him leaning, tilting, lurching, forward, forward forward…aching to stretch himself towards the very next minute of this very present, towards tomorrow, towards anywhere that is far from the person he was when he was behaving in this way, when he was hiding… This song says: no more. It says very little, lyrically. And yet it says SO much to me


Dizzily yours
-jeff  

-----------


Jeff!

I don't know how to start, this track is a contradiction. It sits perfectly still in the smallest of spaces, between undefinable and defiant clarity. The time slows, viscous, the changes almost imperceptible. As if sleeping in a knotted fit of regret. As you suggested, and I echo, the flow builds to a fall – through a frozen cascade of bulbous swells – organic pads or auxiliary organs. They breathe so carefully, these lifts and falls - it's almost labored (like an old accordion with worn out reeds and holes in the bellows). The sound seems drawn through an impossibly narrow space and as I listen, I feel a tightness in my own chest. It translates to a weight. I wonder if this is Chris getting something off the chest. I wonder, is this Chris' redemption song?

You talked about a reckoning and I see that here. There are consequences for hiding, and those seem to be translated through memories. Are they haunting? He says that the past is coming back – 'every hour, broken and dour, returns'. The past comes back cleaved and stoney, and though this song tells that side, it also tell a redemptive tale. He didn't kill anyone, he just stepped aside. There is forgiveness here. I see all the steps of grieving in this lyrically-minimal song and that is why I hear it as a mantra. As history comes calling, you honor it, study it, and name it. Then you try and understand your role and how you disappointed or fulfilled. Finally, you give yourself a pardon (or not). I think there is a pardon being reached for here. This is the mantra – remember, understand, forgive.

I move to that voice, placed so purposely, each word and syllable waits for the exact moment when it can make the most impact. Gorgeous and lush, a confessional timbre, a sadness that reaches through the bone, into the marrow. What is most interesting is that the music is moving like molasses, yet the vocal delivery is so urgent. I think it is this tension that makes this song so captivating. It is impossible to shake, once you've let it in. I reminds me of how I feel after a long boat ride. I am on solid ground again, but I still feel the sway and bob, and yes, that dizziness.

The musical sounds on this track do the same thing for me, rise and quell, and stay. I still hear it long after the headphones are off. It's as if the sounds are made of the natural world, it shares the same key, and you just have to listen and the music will be there. I imagine it welling up around me. This womb-like soundscape surrounding and protecting. I feel that I can be vulnerable inside this. I can show myself.

The music, the 30 words, and that voice all work together to simulate a trudging heaviness, a solitary din, and the ultimate walk towards forgiveness. The music is heavy, but there is also something else. An ethereal lightness – the way the voice shimmers as if rising from a wide canyon. I said earlier that I wondered if this was Chris' redemption song, but as I have arrived at this point in writing, and having invited this song fully in, I see that it is 'a' redemption song and unknowingly I have added it to my list of things that help when I blame myself for past choices. As a songwriter I believe it is often the process of writing the song that does the work, holds the healing property. Then you cast it out to the world and hope (or not) that it will do something similar for others. I don't imagine Chris listening to 'Hide' again and again as a mantra, but nonetheless, it is one for me.

Until next time,

Audra

Saturday, June 17, 2017

Black Cactus

There's a new label in town....!



Black Cactus is a record label started by Stacey MacLeod and Samantha Linn of Dear Darkness. Their latest release features the sweetly snarly surf fuzz tumblers of indie rock wunderkinds Blood Stone! 









I love the way this band casts a sheen of eerie or precarious lyrics and gnarly guitars over melodies that evoke an innocent bubblegum pop shimmy. ("I want your heart..." ...but literally). Black Cactus premiered with a split single between Dear Darkness' gutsy glam-rock fervor and Sros Lords' surrealist raw-punk provocations.

And because this new venture is facilitated by Dear Darkness, I can already be assured that the artists they'll proceed to promote will be those of a similar vein, in that they blend a brave, experimental, even bellicose punk defiance onto familiar tropes or genres. Blood Stone bring some gothic haunts to happy pop vibes, while a Morgan Blank of Sros Lords is going to be featured on next week's release with a very percussive, trippy, sample-spooked ambient electronica. And then there's Jimmy Ohio's "Home," a brilliant 6-minute spoken word odyssey of satirical, subversive articulations over trippy guitars and oozing bass.

So check out Black Cactus this week. Follow on Facebook for updates about this Friday release, and future releases. Dig out the boomboxes; or just find yourself a perfect, and often eccentric 10 minute soundtrack for your car's stereo as you bop from one venue to the next on a weekend full o' shows.