Author: Joshua Cannon

A post shared by Paige Ellens (@pay_jellens) on Jul 22, 2017 at 9:28pm PDT

Circa Survive Rekindles Magic At Growlers

From existing as the dojo where Elvis Presley practiced karate to the venue where Elvis Costello and The Imposters filmed a live performance when The Hi-Tone called the address home, 1911 Poplar Ave has stood as a sanctuary for both acclaimed artists and local musicians. After The Hi-Tone changed locations, however, the magic of that room fell away as the rebranded Sports Junction struggled to find footing.

But when Circa Survive took the stage Saturday evening at Growlers, the venue’s latest rebranding, the allure of the space was tangible — it felt just as it did the last time I caught a show there years ago. Growlers was the perfect stop for Circa Survive, too, who are spending the off-days of a larger tour with AFI and Citizen playing club dates. The last time they played Memphis was a near sold out show at The New Daisy in 2014. To see them on a small stage, not long after they announced their sixth studio album, was one of those rare experiences that don’t often arise.

A post shared by Growlers Memphis (@growlers_memphis) on Jul 22, 2017 at 7:23pm PDT

Circa Survive Rekindles Magic At Growlers (2)

“Somebody told me this was Elvis’ old karate studio,” Anthony Green said as the band took the stage. “Me and my buddy went to Graceland today. We found a trap door and rummaged through all of Elvis’ shit.”

Local band Jadewick opened the show. It’s hard imagining another Memphis band that would have fit the bill better than they did. Having only seen them play on floors or in living rooms, they took to the stage well. The band reveled in the frills of a room more suited to handle their dynamic and the nuances that get lost against the walls at a house show.
Briana Wade — Jadewick

If you haven’t stepped into Growlers yet — do so. At the beginning of this month, the venue hosted Spiral Stairs, or singer and guitarist Scott Kannberg of Pavement. The magnetism of 1911 Poplar Avenue is just as present as it’s ever been. Hopefully Growler’s coming shows continue to do it justice.

Claire Faulhaber

Women are underrepresented in the music scene. That goes without being said, but is rarely said by us boys, and we all contribute to it being a problem. The Hi-Tone’s inaugural Grrl Fest, organized by the venue’s own Allison Kasper, kicks off Saturday and takes aim at the problem.  

“I was reading an article about a festival in Canada,” Kasper says. “A female artist removed all of the all-male acts from the lineup, just to show the small representation of women in the music community. It sparked an idea in my mind to hold a fest that showcased bands with at least one female artist in each band that plays. I want to host something that lifts up and praises the badass women in our music community — a time where we can all come together and appreciate the incredible music being made here in memphis and surrounding areas.”

Proceeds from Grrl Fest will benefit Southern Girls Rock Camp, an organization and summer camp for girls ages 10-17. The organization works to create a culture of positive self-esteem and collaboration among girls & gender non-conforming youth while building community through music.

Peep the line-up ahead of the show:

1) Nots:

Grrl Fest Runs The World

2) Ten High (Fayetteville, Arkansas):

Grrl Fest Runs The World (2)

3) Bruiser Queen (St. Louis, Missouri):

4) Hash Redactor:

Impressively traceless online, but features members of Ex-Cult and Nots.

5) Mouton (Springfield, Missouri):

Grrl Fest Runs The World (3)

6) Crystal Shrine:

Grrl Fest Runs The World (4)

7) Louise Page:

Grrl Fest Runs The World (5)

8) Sweaters Together:

More on them here.
Andrea Morales

9) Harlan:

10) Magnolia:

11) NYA (DJ Set):

Briana Wade

Grrl Fest is this Saturday, May 20th. Doors are at 7 pm. $15.

Tiger Adams is taking a walk. He passes Otherlands Coffee Bar and continues down Cowden Avenue into a quiet neighborhood. It’s a Thursday afternoon and most residents are away at work. Walks like this are ritualistic for Adams. While writing Good Grief, the forthcoming Ep from China Gate, the band of which he fronts, Adams walked a lot. A tape recorder in hand, he’d unpack the ideas bouncing around his head. Later, he’d transcribe them into a coherent melody, his ruminations into cohesive lyrics.

“A lot of the lyrics have to do with turning the mundane and melancholic into something empowering and positive,” Adams says. “I think learning how to deal and address the bad parts in life made them both more real and also less real.”

On ‘Good Grief,’ China Gate picks up the pieces

In 2013, two years before China Gate would release their debut Ep Hunca Munca, Adams left Memphis to attend college at the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville. Anxiety and depression he prior experienced only intensified, growing into symptoms of hypochondria that led him to schedule regular doctor appointments.

[pullquote-1]“I was going once a week thinking I was dying of something new each time,” Adams says. “But in February of 2016 I got help with some mental problems I had been dealing with for as long as I can remember. I really started trying to get better for the first time. I found it a lot easier to work on songs when I wasn’t worried if I was going to be alive the next day.”

Adams now rejects the idea that art must remain hopeless. If he was desperate for something in the events leading to Good Grief’s conception, it wasn’t to lose the battle, but to persevere with purpose to show for fighting it. Though he’d written two albums worth of material before seeking help, he scrapped it all and started again with a renewed perspective. The result is an empowering four tracks totaling a little more than 16 minutes.

“Writing Good Grief helped me compartmentalize what was going on in my life and turn my experiences into positivity,” Adams says.

Adams aside, the band is made of guitarist Walt Phelan, bassist Conner Booth, and brothers Harrison and Kyle Neblett on keys and drums. Adams began China Gate as a project with his former roommate while in Fayetteville. When he returned to Memphis, he reconnected with Phelan and Booth, who he had known since high school, and eventually recruited the Neblett brothers.

[pullquote-2]“I think having [them] in the band helped a lot,” Adams says. “Harry is definitely the most creative person I know and Kyle is definitely the best drummer I know. [Writing Good Grief] felt more like a team effort and I think it made the dynamics within the songs a bit more alive.”

China Gate’s sound is rooted in power-pop. They recorded Good Grief at Ardent Studios with engineer Mike Wilson, and the studio’s discernible sound suits their songs well. But Big Star, a house band to Ardent if there ever was one, is perhaps too easy a comparison for China Gate’s music. They’re more influenced by mid-2000’s Goner bands like The Barbaras and Magic Kids, a later-iteration of the former group. But their influences, conscious or sub-conscious, are vast. Each track is upbeat, riddled with solos and guitar parts pulled from Wilco’s playbook (a string section on title-track opener Good Grief particularly bears admiration of Wilco), keys and tamborines, and synth lines reminiscent of The Cure.

As they wrote the songs, even if he had an idea for the lyrics, Adams waited to finish them until his melodies were finalized and the instruments were tracked.

“I wanted to do the lyrics last and close together so they felt related and relevant to me when I was recording them,” he says.

On Good Grief, Adams doesn’t shy away from his insecurities (I only feel alive / when I remember one day I will die / I want to know how it ends) or try and prove he’s wise beyond his years (If you’re broken / I’ll be broken too / Just thinking we’re going through hell / But we hold on like a bored martyr / oh well). He approaches his adolescence, though, and his depression, with thoughtfulness (I know it’s bad tonight / but it’ll change one day / we’ll feel alright). It’s wisdom earned from patience.

“If you hear Good Grief and think it’s an album celebrating or wallowing in sadness, you missed it,” Adams says. “I wanted to make something about overcoming that and a self-reminder of the dizzying excitement of being alive.”

And on that dizzying side of life, there’s the standing up and trying again. To lift a quote from the film It’s A Wonderful Life, of which track two of Good Grief borrows its name, Clarence says to George Bailey, “You see, George, you’ve really had a wonderful life. Don’t you see what a mistake it would be to throw it away?”

China Gate releases Good Grief on May 19th via Pizza Tape Records. Their release show is Thursday, May 18th at The Hi-Tone.

Twelve-year-old me was introduced to Tom Petty via a video game named Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas. The song was “Runnin’ Down A Dream,” which was released 13-years-prior on 1989’s Full Moon Fever. The game became my main access point to his music. When my dad realized this, he dug up his old records and handed them down.

I was similarly introduced to Joe Walsh — through “In The City,” which originally appeared on the soundtrack for 1979’s The Warriors. My dad also brought that film into my life. When I got older, I’d be re-introduced to Walsh through tales about his time living in Memphis.

So when Walsh returned Monday with Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers, my dad and I went.

“I spent a year here one night,” Walsh told a packed crowd of all ages at The Fedex Forum.

Petty and The Heartbreakers would later carry the audience through an evening of songs that built a career spanning more than four decades.

“Look at the last 40 years like its one big record,” Petty said. “We’re just gonna put the needle down here and there across it.”

What follows is a transcript of my notes from the evening:

7:35 p.m.: The person behind us can mouth all of the guitar parts to every Joe Walsh song, but has serious trouble recalling the names or lyrics.

7:39 p.m.: Joe Walsh has two drummers?

7:43 p.m.: Mom’s are dancing, Dad’s are dancing, everyone is dancing.

7:47 p.m.: Joe Walsh has two drummers and a sick laser light show and he is really good at slide guitar.

7:54 p.m.: “This song is for my friend and brother Glenn Fry,” Walsh says before he plays The Eagles’ “Take It To The Limit.” Everyone is on their feet and really enamored by Walsh. This is the golden moment of the show so far. (Note: Looking back, this remained my favorite part of his set and possibly the night.)

8:02 p.m.: I should have said this earlier, but for context, we’re seated on Row C of section 105 in seats 17 and 18. This the first row before you step down onto floor seating. There is a security guard standing at the edge of the row, holding onto a rail while she points a flashlight at the ground so folks remember to watch their step. At least six people have tripped so far, all finding their footing, but some not as swift as others. Most have caught themselves on her shoulder, and she’s handling it okay. No major plants yet, but I’m worried and distracted from the show.

8:09 p.m.: “If you’re young and not familiar with my music, your parents loved this next song,” Walsh says before playing “In The City.” Dad tells me when he was my age or younger and worked at a radio station, he’d play this song all of the time.

8:19 p.m.: I’m having a hard time understanding a lot of the words Walsh is saying.

8:19 p.m.: A lady behind me says Walsh looks like an aged Jeff Spicoli from Fast Times at Ridgemont High.

8:42 p.m.: A pair of expressive black and red cowboys boots spotted at the urinal to the right of me.

9:12 p.m.: Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers take the stage. Petty is wearing a purple blazer and what I make out to be a cheetah-print tie.
[pullquote-1]”The cradle of rock ‘n’ roll is Memphis,” Petty says. “Can you feel that mojo creeping across the room?”

9:18 p.m.: The Heartbreakers band is really good. Petty later introduces them as Mike Campbell on guitar, Benmont Tench on keys, Ron Blair on bass, Scott Thurston on guitar, keys, and harmonica, and Steve Ferrone on drums. There’s also The Webb Sisters, Charley and Hattie, who we later learn toured with Leonard Cohen.

9:19 p.m.: Petty’s light show is impressive. It consists of four sets of color-changing orb-shaped lights placed in rows of five, and they move to make different shapes from song to song. The band goes into “Mary Jane’s Last Dance,” and the lights turn green.

9:21 p.m.: I smell the fruit.

10:02 p.m.: Tom Petty is leading the masses in a synchronized clap. Seat 18 on Row C of Section 105 offered the best people watching view I’ve ever enjoyed at an arena show. There’s something only slightly terrifying about a crowd staring straight ahead and clapping in attempted unison as if they’re all under a spell.

10:17 p.m.: Someone dressed in head-to-toe Elvis garb appears from the masses, swaying and knelt over, trying to get the bands attention. Elvis eventually succeeds, only briefly.

10:32 p.m.: My favorite part of the night could change to now, when Petty played what sounded to be a more stripped-down version of “Learning to Fly.” (Note: Walsh still won my favorite moment of the night, but this was a really close second.)

10:51 p.m.: Awesome, they are playing “Runnin’ Down A Dream,” my anthem.

10:55 p.m.: Some folks have taken their seats. They are tired but Petty has nearly gone through ’em all except for “American Girl,” and they know it’s coming.

11:00 p.m.: Ah, “You Wreck Me,” not “American Girl.” But on a personal note, I really wanted to hear this song and am happy he played it.

11:07 p.m.: He rings out that first chord, and everyone is on their feet again. Before closing out his set, Petty wraps it up:

“When I was a little boy, when someone told me of Memphis, they’d say that’s where all the rock ‘n’ roll stars lived. So that’s where I wanted to go.”

[slideshow-1]

Briana Wade

Zohayr and Sameer Shirazee’s output is admirable. Their first effort, Adaje, the brash screamo band that carried them through high school, released five records. Greyscale, or, save the vowels, GRYSCL, existed in the same vein, only more evolved, and found new direction in members Chance Clement and Barrett Kutas. The group put out six albums and lasted five years before disbanding. Sort of.

Welcome Jadewick, the same members in new roles. After Greyscale went silent at the beginning of 2016, the band hid away for months, writing without an idea of what would come. That manifested in November, in the form of a grainy clip uploaded to the Internet, dissonant and exposing little.The clips kept coming until February, when they released a self-titled two-track ep, a separation from their roots.

“About six to eight months before Greyscale officially called it quits, I brought the idea to the table of purging ourselves completely from that sound and trying something else,” Zohayr says. “Everyone was strangely on board right away. There was something so reaffirming about Jadewick’s first official practice. At one point one of us said, ‘What have we been doing the last four years?’”
[pullquote-1]
“Some Call it Funk,” track one, reintroduces the band with a near-five minute ballad reliant on similar manic energy Greyscale encompassed. That’s likely due to a bond between the brothers, who’ve grown up together as much as they’ve written together. Those formative leanings still bleed through their songwriting. Family, immediate and chosen, thematically fills out these songs: “Constructing fears out of thin air is a family trait,” and then later, “Family is not blood.”

Jadewick Is Born

“’Some Call It Funk’ is about accepting your blood family and that there is no escaping them no matter what, and basking and truly embracing the family you have chosen,” Zohayr says. “It’s a song about my three brothers in this band and how much I have come to love and trust them.”

Shifting roles undoubtedly altered their dynamic. Clement, who previously sang, now plays guitar. He’s new to the instrument, learning as they write.

“I have never taken guitar lessons and barely got through a year of piano lessons when I was in fifth grade, but I love music,” Clement says. “I knew that the three guys I had been playing music with would be the best way to get better. Not putting constraints on things makes the process feel so much better.”

The biggest change, however, is in Zohayr and Kutas. Zohayr’s singing has taken a driver’s seat to the full-throated screams that dominated previous projects. If not initially made apparent by his bellowing yells, Zohayr’s attention to melody is realized when the song comes down. It’s a sweet spot where Jadewick is at their best, in the groove, on the other side of that manic intensity where the song has room to breathe.

“Greyscale was a way to play the faster, crazier ideas I had on drums, sometimes without a concern for what the best direction was,” Sameer says. “With Jadewick, it feels much more structured sonically.”

Incorporating electronic elements further removed Jadewick from their confines, such as on “That’s What’s Right,” the two-minute second track that feels more like an interlude. Kutas, who cites Kanye West’s polarizing 2013 LP Yeezus as an influence, pushed for the idea with no push back from the band.

Jadewick Is Born (2)

“Honestly, the influence for it all came from approaching the song writing with a complete embrace of all genres,” Zohayr says. “It never really translated with Greyscale. It was always ‘this is screamo with eggshakers’ or ‘this is screamo with a fuzz pedal.’”

Kutas, who only played bass in Greyscale, found that additionally playing synthesizers allowed him to look at songwriting from a new perspective.

“In Greyscale, I could write bass lines to accompany the drums or the guitar melody,” Kutas says. “Now, with so many other ways to express myself sonically, I have to spend more time listening to how everything that I bring to this band can come alive and shine, melt two parts together, or accompany the melody.”

Jadewick entered Ardent Studios this month to record a five-track EP, songs they spent the bulk of last year writing. Perhaps the most growth they’ve seen is in how hypercritical they are of what they release, Zohayr says. For Jadewick, it’s quality over quantity.

“We’re not sure when this EP will come out,” Zohayr says. “But I’m sure it will this year at some point. Or maybe it won’t, who knows.”

Jadewick plays Rockhouse Live with Dikembe, Hodera, Expert Timing, and Sleepwlkrs on March 21.

Sam Leathers

“We’ve followed her for seven cities now,” a man 20-years-my-senior told me midway through Stevie Nicks’ 18-song set. “Amazing, after all these years, she’s still got it.”

She never lost it. Backed by a multi-piece band that included a pianist, hammond organist, two backup vocalists, a drummer, bassist, and longtime musical director and guitarist Waddy Wachtel, Nicks’ brought a storied discography to life — a “gothic trunk of lost songs.” Tracks she wrote over the span of 40 plus years; deep cuts from albums that seldom or never got the live treatment. The audience didn’t mind, an eclectic bunch: mothers and daughters, married couples and young couples, a man in a top hat hopelessly waving a bouquet of white roses in Nicks’ direction, a pack of gypsies who led me to my seat.

The energy was palpable, though, when Nicks and co. rolled through Fleetwood favorites like Gypsy, a moment when anyone still sitting found their feet; Gold Dust Woman, made bigger than ever by her band; Rhiannon, the alcohol had taken hold by this one, there was lots of aisle-dancing; and Landslide, the stripped down closer, during which there was lots of hugging and audible disappointment that the show would soon end.  Sam Leathers

Sam Leathers

Nicks, donning a black dress with flowing sleeves, a sequined shawl, black fingerless gloves, and, for “Bella Donna,” the original silk chiffon scarf ($2,000 when purchased, “ah, shit, that’s a lot of money, Stevie,” said a concerned person behind me) draped over her in the 1981 promos, paused briefly after her first song and scanned the Fedex Forum.

“You have to let us, for a minute, sink into your Memphis-ness,” she said. “You know this is a very special city. This is on that list of cities — Los Angeles, San Francisco, Nashville, Memphis, New York — where you come into the city knowing those are the important shows. I’m extremely happy to be here in your musical city that has so much history.”
[pullquote-1]
Sam Leathers

Each song came with a story, a bit of nostalgia about who she was and where she was when they were written. Stand Back was born after Nicks heard Prince’s Little Red Corvette on the radio and wrote lyrics around his melody. After getting his approval, Prince visited her in the studio, where he played on the track, and the two played a game of basketball. A montage of photos of Prince would later appear on screen behind her, a source of motivation for Nicks.

“The sad thing is now he’s gone,” Nicks said. “But when I sing Stand Back, he’s here. When I’m nervous, I say, ‘Prince, walk with me.’ And he does.”

Nicks’ storytelling broke up what could have been a traditional arena rock production. “I could do this until I’m 90 years old,” Nicks said. “Because I have fans who are kind enough to listen.” Her diving into the details brought a closeness to the audience, removing a wall. We could have been in her living room. When she went into Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around, which she wrote with Tom Petty as their friendship blossomed, show opener Chrissie Hynde of The Pretenders appeared from the darkness to sing.

Earlier in the evening, The Pretenders’ bare-bones band — drums, bass, guitar, pedal steel — showcased Hynde’s magnetism. On “I’ll Stand By You,” Hynde’s vocals were as powerful as they’ve ever been. Wearing a Shangri-La Records T-shirt, Hynde said the band had a better experience in Memphis this go around, visiting Graceland and Imagine Vegan instead of the jail where she was once held overnight for disorderly conduct.

“Memphis is progressing in the right way,” Hynde said. “But I didn’t go to the jail where I was held overnight for kicking out the windows of a police car. They didn’t want me back.”

Closing the show, Nicks revisited 1973, when she lived for three months in Aspen, Colorado on $250. One evening while home alone in a condominium where she was renting a room, Nicks’ wrote Landslide on an acoustic guitar, finding the lyrics as they came to her.

“I was a little girl, and I wrote this little song, and this little song took all of us to the top,” Nicks said. “Did I ever dream I’d be in Memphis playing for you?”

During her freshman year of high school, Julia Steiner was given the nickname “Ratboy.” She still doesn’t really know why. But when Steiner started writing songs with David Sagan in 2011, the two-piece repurposed the moniker. Inevitably becoming Ratboys, the acoustic duo grew into a post-country four piece. After signing to Topshelf Records, the Chicago-based band released their debut full-length AOID in 2015 and hit the road. They’re returning to Memphis for a second time on Sunday, playing Murphy’s with Slingshot Dakota and Island of Misfit Toys. The Flyer caught up with lead-rodent Julia Steiner ahead of the show.

MF: How did the name ‘Ratboys’ come to be and how and when did the band get started?

JS: When Dave and I first started the project in 2011, we called it ‘Ratboy’ because that had been my nickname since I was 14 years old. During lunch my freshman year of high school, my friends and I went around the table giving each other crude nicknames, and that was the one they gave me (no one really knows why). It was the least crude and the only one that stuck.

Eventually, we added an ‘s’ to the end of our name to appease a fellow Ratboy in upstate New York who sent us persistent emails with vague threats demanding that we change our name. That happened in 2012, and we’ve been Ratboys ever since.

Dave and I started the project on a whim while we were both students at the same university. We recorded the RATBOY EP for fun, put it out on April Fools day 2011, and started playing shows as an acoustic two-piece. Over time we added more friends playing different instruments, and we’ve gotten louder and more focused since then.

Meet Chicago’s Ratboys, The Post-Country Band Playing Murphy’s Sunday

MF: What have been some of your constant influences?

JS: Some constant influences of ours are The Breeders, Jenny Lewis, The Dodos, Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin and Wilco.

MF: Have you been to Memphis before? What was your experience like?

JS: We have been to Memphis once before, in summer 2015. I’ll be honest with you, it wasn’t one of the better shows we’ve played — we played in someone’s living room, and that person chose to stay in her room leading a game of dungeons and dragons instead of watching any of the sets or passing around a donation jar. We didn’t realize that until it was too late, so we left with empty pockets. But, the city itself is really cool, and we had a great time hanging with some friends who we don’t often get to see. We’re psyched to come back and give it another go.

MF: Does the album title AOID stand for something? What’s the story behind that?

JS: The title AOID doesn’t stand for anything in our minds — the original cover image was a cell phone photo that I took of my fist right after it had been stamped at a county fair in the middle of nowhere Kentucky in 2011. Dave and I were driving around aimlessly and stumbled across this carnival — the stamp mystified us (it looked like it said VOID, except mirrored and upside down?) and we had such a great time that we promised ourselves “If and when we put out a full-length record, we’ll use this photo as the cover.”

MF: With AOID being Ratboys’ first full-length, what personal experiences led to writing the lyrics for the album? I’ve got to mention “Bugs!” because I’ve revisited the lyrics a ton since listening to the album.

JS: A lot of personal experiences informed the lyrics on AOID — that album in particular borrows a lot from things I personally went through, things people told me, etc. My freshman year of college roommate was named Sara Mykrantz, my dog’s name was Jazz, I went on a trip to Chicago, Louisville, and Nashville right after a nasty breakup. All of those details and stories pop up here and there.

[pullquote-1]I wrote “Bugs!” down in Kentucky right after I got into a fight with one of my best friends. I was sitting on my front stoop in the middle of a really hot night in the summer, and there were bugs everywhere. They were so loud it was almost deafening. I just started singing to myself and the words poured out. The bugs around me kind of accompanied me that night so I wanted to pay homage to them being there, but they were also super annoying, so I made sure to comment on how I’m happy to swat them away. The words were kind of me just getting my emotions out in the disorientation after a fight. I’m glad you enjoyed that one.

MF: What are some albums you guys have been jamming on tour so far? Any recommendations?

JS: We’ve been listening to the Harry Potter books on CD for a lot of the drive, but we’ve also been listening to a lot of new albums by awesome artists — the main ones we love are by Nnamdi Ogbonnaya, Del Paxton, Jay Som and Wild Pink.

MF: Plans for the rest of the year?

JS: We’re putting out our second record in June and then hopefully touring all the time.