The Glass, ca. early 2000s. L-R: Justin Lloyd, John Argroves, Tommy Pappas, Brad Bailey (Photo: Heath Davis)
Tonight marks that rare thing in the revival market: the return of the early 2000s. Even the ’90s are getting their due these days, but for those wishing to press ahead into the future of retro, this Friday night is your night. The Glass return to the town they started in 20 years ago.
“It’s been 15-plus years since we did this!” exclaims drummer John Argroves at the prospect of tonight’s show at B-Side. Yet the players have been recording together more recently. As Argroves explains, “Justin Lloyd [guitarist in the Glass] wrote some tunes of his own and we decided to meet him in Monticello, Mississippi, last fall to do a weekend session with the old guard. That band is Red Ocher, and the album’s called The Owl.”
As Red Ocher is also on tonight’s bill, fans of The Glass will get a double helping of sorts. Though the material and the singer for each project are unique, they sit well together. Also on the bill is Jeff Hulett, who’s been making his mark on Memphis music for more than 20 years as well, both with Snowglobe and as a solo artist. Tonight the solo artist has a full band.
For the uninitiated, the music of The Glass holds up well. The shimmering dissonances and angular harmonies in the guitar interplay provide a captivating setting for Brad Bailey’s musings, with an underlying angst that seems appropriate to this era. And the boutique label Small Batch Records agrees, having re-released the band’s 2002 debut, Concorde, only two years ago (reviewed by the Memphis Flyerat the time). Seattle-based owner Aaron Rehling has also featured Hulett on the label, 2018’s Around These Parts.
The Glass, Red Ocher, and the Jeff Hulett band play Friday, December 9th, at B-Side Memphis, 8 p.m.
Big Star tribute featuring Andrew VanWyngarden on vocals (Photo: Alex Greene).
There was an unmistakable feeling of history being made at the Crosstown Theater on Saturday night, as the ultimate Big Star tribute band, featuring original drummer Jody Stephens, took to the stage and delivered a stunning set of power pop classics.
The quintet featured Stephens and latter-day Big Star alum Jon Auer, who performed extensively with Ken Stringfellow and Alex Chilton from 1993 until Chilton’s untimely death in 2010. Filling out the lineup were Pat Sansone (Wilco, Autumn Defense), Chris Stamey (the dB’s), and Mike Mills (R.E.M.). All players brought impressive vocal chops and multi-instrumental abilities to bear on recreating the band’s classic tracks from the 1970s, especially its debut, #1 Record. The show, presented by Mempho for community radio station WYXR’s Raised by Sound Fest, celebrated the 50th anniversary of that album, originally released in June of 1972.
As such, it marked an apotheosis of sorts for the band, which suffered from poor distribution in its heyday. While critics raved about their recorded output, the group never became the phenomenon that their debut’s title seemed to presage. Yet that was forgotten as the band played to a sold-out house last week, with the original arrangements lovingly recreated by the current quintet.
Auer’s Gibson SG launched the proceedings with the opening crunch of “Feel,” and with that, they were off. Sansone and Stamey often wielded Fender guitars, though both could frequently be seen manning the keyboards on stage right, which included a digital Mellotron. Mills, for his part, played bass on most of the tunes, though he relinquished that duty when he sang lead vocal, or, on “In the Street,” played cowbell.
Holding it all down was Stephens’ powerful drumming, true to his original parts nearly roll for roll, and bursting with the energy of a much younger man. Stephens has also come into his own as a singer, as made clear when he sang “Thirteen,” often associated with Chilton’s original vocal, with great delicacy.
Guest vocalists made brief appearances, with MGMT’s Andrew VanWyngarden taking the stratospheric lead on “Give Me Another Chance,” and Greg Cartwright of the Oblivians, Reigning Sound, and other bands, delivering “Try Again.”
After playing #1 Record in full, the group took a short break and returned with other songs from the band’s catalog, including Radio City standouts like “September Gurls,” “Back of a Car,” “You Get What You Deserve,” and “O My Soul.” After launching into the latter, the players seemed stymied in the middle of the song, and ground to a halt. With Auer quipping that they were playing “the single version,” Sansone struck up the band once again and they carried off the tune with aplomb.
Several Chris Bell songs were also featured, much to the crowd’s delight, including “You and Your Sister,” “There was a Light,” and “I Am the Cosmos.” Tracks from Third/Sister Lovers were also featured, including “Jesus Christ,” “Thank You Friends,” and an impassioned vocal on “Nighttime” by Stamey. Stephens and Auer also sang a song they co-wrote for the latter-day band’s In Space album, “February’s Quiet.” Generally, the band hit their marks expertly throughout the show: the guitars rocked or lilted, as needed, the vocal harmonies soared, and the grooves grooved.
The crowd was loath to let the band leave, standing for multiple encores. While many Memphis albums from 1972 are surely deserving of such an anniversary show, the fact that this one took place stands as a testament to the band’s panache and power, half a century later.
One striking thing about WYXR, a relative newcomer to the Memphis community radio game, is the synergy it’s been able to develop with its partners: The Daily Memphian, the University of Memphis, and Crosstown Concourse. Their ties to the latter really pay off when it comes to public happenings, and this coming weekend epitomizes that. The inaugural Raised By Sound Music Festival, presented by MEMPHO, will make use of nearly all the spaces available at the Concourse.
It begins Saturday with an afternoon of free music, in both the central atrium and Crosstown Brewing Company. Listeners can check out a remarkably eclectic lineup that reflects the station’s commitment to diversity. The atrium will feature Mak Ro (1:30), Whelk Stall (2:20), and Erin Rae (6:30), while Crosstown Brewing will host Lemon’s (3:10), Doll McCoy (4:00), Idi X Teco (4:50), and Nots (5:40).
But the highlight is undoubtedly an example of WYXR not only reaching across genres, but deep into history as well: a celebration of the 50th Anniversary of Big Star’s #1 Record in Crosstown Theater, with an all-star version of the band led by founding member Jody Stephens. Beyond that, there’s still more happening in The Green Room, where MGMT’s Andrew VanWyngarden and Bodywerk will DJ an after-party.
Big Star’s appearance will be a crowning moment in the band’s history, which began in 1971 with the high hopes, ambitions, and talents of founders Chris Bell, Alex Chilton, Andy Hummel, and Jody Stephens, but didn’t include large audiences or record sales — at the time. Now, of course, the band’s onetime cult status is recognized as the inspiration for many bands that came after, including R.E.M. and the Replacements.
The ultimate sign of their renaissance, long after Bell’s tragic death in 1978, was the version of the band led by Chilton that began playing in 1993, featuring Stephens and erstwhile Posies Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow. Since Chilton’s death in 2010 (followed that same year by Hummel’s passing), lone survivor Stephens has curated a series of tribute shows, typically honoring Big Star’s Third/Sister Lovers album, but including other songs from the band’s catalog, built around a large, rotating cast of talents that often included orchestral players.
This time around, the revival of Big Star will bring it back to it’s founding principle: a tight, sparse rock band with an ear for dynamic arrangements, riffs, and vocal harmonies. Pared down to a quintet featuring Stephens, Auer, Mike Mills of R.E.M., Pat Sansone of Wilco, and Chris Stamey of the dB’s, this iteration of Big Star will likely rock harder than any version of the group since Chilton’s death.
To get a sense of how this quintet is approaching #1 Record‘s 50th Anniversary show, I reached Jody Stephens in Athens, Georgia, where he was waiting to play later that night. The group is taking the anniversary show on the road, but for Stephens, playing Memphis is ground zero.
Memphis Flyer:You’re playing Athens tonight. Big Star really had an impact down there, very early on.
Jody Stephens: Yeah, Mike Mills and Peter Buck were the first two musicians that had some popularity to start talking about Big Star. And then of course there were the Replacements and several others. But what initiated that was, first of all, John Fry was the genius behind engineering and mixing the Big Star records. So they sounded amazing. But John King made sure they got into the hands of all the rock writers. And he was really effective at that. And because he was able to do that at the rock writers convention, people who were into music, especially pop rock or alternative music, at least knew who Big Star was. The whole reason we can play these dates, celebrating #1 Record‘s 50th Anniversary is that we had a lot of things going for us in the early ’70s. Now, the music’s had an impact on us all. And then there are the communities that gather for these shows. And the various lineups we’ve had. This one in particular: Mike Mills, Pat Sansone, Chris Stamey, Jon Auer, and myself — being able to get out and play these shows means a lot to us.
I remember the sense of discovery I felt when a friend first played me #1 Record, back in our twenties. It felt like you were going into a parallel universe with a whole other body of radio hits. Every song was just a gem, so finely crafted, it sounded like the LP was meant to be a hit.
Thanks! That’s a good way to put it. A parallel universe!
I guess it was a hit, just in very slow motion.
Yeah. I’m glad we did that record early on in my life, or I wouldn’t be around to celebrate its 50th Anniversary. Or at least be capable of playing. You know, I just turned 70, and I don’t give up playing because I’d give up this community of people.
It must feel great to be doing these songs live. I suppose it’s the first time some of them will be performed live?
We’re doing “Life is White” now, and that was never performed live by Big Star. The Lemon Twigs joined us when we played the Wild Honey Foundation concert in Los Angeles, and they’re joining us again in Jersey City. And that’s kind of what prompted our doing “Life is White,” but we’ll be doing it in Memphis now, just as a five piece. Also “There was a Light,” and things like “Try Again.”
You’ve done several as part of the Big Star’s Third concerts, correct? But not all of #1 Record.
Yeah, there are a bunch of new ones. All of these people treat these songs with great care and great feel. Chris Stamey has been brilliant in picking people that come with the right spirit and feel for this music.
This current quintet looks like the best ensemble you’ve had yet.
What we’re doing with a five piece rock band is something I’ve been wanting to do for a while. And it just happens to make it all more feasible. It’s hard to take ten people on the road, with string sections and brass sections, and even break even. But that’s the other cool thing: everybody comes to this with a heart to do it. Just to do it. So it’s cool. I’m excited about playing Memphis with this line up.
I suppose it’s freeing to be a more stripped-down rock band again, just as it all started. There’s nothing like a small rock band to rock a little harder.
It’s true — you can’t hide! There aren’t 18-20 people onstage, so what you do becomes a lot more pronounced and featured.
I imagine that it will be pretty emotional, bringing these songs to life in Memphis.
Yeah, it is. There are some wonderful people in Memphis, and we’ve had a lot of support over the years. We were lucky. Sometimes it’s hard for local bands to get support, locally. But we’ve always had a lot of support in Memphis, and the audience for Big Star has certainly grown over the years. It feels good. Memphis is home, and it’s really nice to be embraced by your home.
As a performer, with so much of the past wrapped up in these songs, is the memory of band mates and friends who have passed away a distraction?
It is from time to time. It’s a nice one. I know on “The India Song,” sometimes I get a little emotional, to the point of having to look away for a second. Because Andy was … I’d known Andy since the seventh grade, and I just had this kinship with Andy all those years. I was closer to Andy than Chris and Alex. I always admired him. So singing “The India Song” and certainly “Way Out West,” that Andy wrote too, yeah, it can get emotional.
I believe you sang “Way Out West” on the record. Did Andy sing “The India Song”?
Yeah, Andy sang it with Alex. There are two voices on “The India Song,” and it could be that Andy’s is the primary voice. And you know what, we might even have the multitrack of that. I know Chris [Bell] erased the multitracks for most of #1 Record. But I think “The India Song” may have escaped. But that’s another story! [laughs]. It got to the point where, on one of our tape boxes someone wrote something like, “Ten songs conveniently grouped for bulk erasure.” That was probably John Fry, or maybe Andy.
Like a little dig at Chris?
Yeah.
I suppose this quintet is playing the whole album, and then some.
We are. Things from Radio City, a couple from Third, and some of Chris’ songs. “I Got Kinda Lost,” “There Was a Light,” “Fight at the Table,” I think. Jon Auer will sing “I Am the Cosmos.” Chris did some great rock and roll songs. “Fight at the Table,” with Jim Dickinson on piano on that recording, is just raucous. Especially if you focus on Jim’s piano playing. He tore it up.
Big Star had some real rockers, right out of the gate. It was cool to see that the title for this tour is Don’t Lie to Me. It wasn’t one of the bigger hits. You’re highlighting a real rocker.
It’s kind of an action phrase, really. Chris Stamey asked me, “What do you want to call this tour?” And I thought about it and said “Don’t Lie to Me.” Because it’s a declarative statement. There’s no deep, profound message to it, it’s just declarative.
In a sense, “Don’t Lie to Me” really captures the sort of fearless vulnerability and radical honesty of the original Big Star aesthetic.
It’s true. It definitely does. That was the thing. Alex and Chris and Andy were all writing from that perspective. In an honest way, they were pouring out their feelings. It’s a reflection of where they were in their lives. And that’s pretty key to connecting with people.
I’m really looking forward to the harmony singing with this quintet. Everyone in the group has great vocal chops.
Well, we’ll have a couple of dates under our belt by Saturday, as a five piece. And you know the cool thing about starting in Athens is, we’re rehearsing at the R.E.M. building in downtown Athens. You walk in the space and… it was like the incubator for all those R.E.M. records. All the time and thought and creative moments that must have taken place in that space… it’s pretty inspirational. It’s a lot like going into Ardent and practicing and recording.
While rehearsing, have you had any drop-ins? Like Peter Buck jamming?
Peter lives in Portland, as far as I know. So not Peter, but Bill Barry will be coming around today. I’d love for him to sit in on drums. I know he’s gonna sit in on cowbell for “In the Street.”
That’s the ultimate ‘more cowbell’ song.
Yes. It is.
Working with WYXR was what caused this show to happen. What does WYXR mean to you?
WYXR and Robby, Kate, and Jared have been so supportive and accommodating over Big Star shows, and Those Pretty Wrongs, my duo with Luther Russell. That continued hometown support really initiated this tour. Without that Memphis show being the anchor, I don’t know that these other shows would’ve happened. So I’m very grateful for that.
All America knows of the Marsalis family of New Orleans, be it the popular progeny, Wynton and Branford, or their father, jazz pianist and educator Ellis Marsalis Jr. But the family talent isn’t limited to that trio. Delfaeyo Marsalis is a well-respected performer, band leader, and educator in his own right. And, as a trombonist, it should come as no surprise that his band evokes New Orleans perhaps more than anyone else from the family. As Jeff Simon of The Buffalo News notes, “Delfaeyo is, in many ways, the most fun of the Marsalises. He’s the family trombonist. And record producer. And he seems to be the family wise-guy too.“
Memphis Flyer: The trombone is a unique horn in jazz, isn’t it? Like a bass, it has no fixed tones; the pitch is fluid. It forces you to zero in on your pitch and tone.
Delfeayo Marsalis: That’s a good way to say it. Fluid. And that’s one of the trademarks of the New Orleans sound. You can hear the guys playing on the brass bands, blowing loud, but you know, they’re right on top of that pitch.
When did you first pick up the trombone?
By the time I got to sixth grade, I decided to play it. In New Orleans, a lot of folks started really young. It was the thing we were doing back then, playing instruments. Much less so today. A lot of folks were in the band; we had a lot of great teachers. It’s very different today, but I guess it comes and goes.
Where did you study music in your youth?
We went to an arts school, the New Orleans Center for Creative Arts. And that was really a decided advantage. We were being taught on the college level. Terence Blanchard, Donald Harrison, Harry Connick Jr., Trombone Shorty, and of course myself and my brothers, all went to the same place. And that was kind of an incubator. It’s gotten tougher since my dad left. My dad was there until about 1985 or ’86. Then he went to Virginia for two or three years. Then he came back to teach at the University of New Orleans. The Center for Creative Arts is still there, but they changed it a lot. It became more of a money-making factory. The first thing they did was get rid of all the teachers, and bring new teachers in. So it’s thriving, it’s got a multi-million dollar building, the state took it over. But as far as the output of the students, it’s tough. It’s way tough.
What’s the focus of the workshop program you’re involved with, Swinging with the Cool School?
Swinging with the Cool School is designed for non-music majors. It’s a way to introduce all students to jazz. We do a workshop and talk about the music we play, give them an idea of some of the earlier styles. Play some more modern music, funk-based. So that’s the idea there. I am in discussions with folks about getting more of a school program going. But somebody’s got to do the work! That’s what it comes down to. But hopefully we can inspire some kids to really dedicate their lives to it.
You also champion the idea of ‘riff-based’ jazz.
Oh yeah, I love it. The older great musicians all grew up playing a riff-based form of music. Usually it was R&B, or jump blues. Something like “C Jam Blues” is a riff. It’s the greatest song ever composed; I don’t know of a greater song than that, in the history of music. There’s no other song that requires only two notes, and by learning that riff, that tells you everything you need to know. I mean, they’re swinging! And you’re going, “Oh my God, how’d he come up with that?”
So now students are learning how to read, they’re learning their scales, but for me, the music doesn’t have the same feeling, the same soul. The older musicians grew up playing songs that are similar to “C Jam Blues.” It’s really about the dance, the dance element. I was just playing with a drummer, and I asked him,”Man, when we play a tune that swings, are you thinking about getting folks to dance?” And he’s like, “No.” But he is a brass band drummer, so he knows what it means to make people feel good with the music. The issue with how many students learn jazz is that it’s totally separate from anything else in their lives. It’s almost like learning a foreign language. And we’re trying to bring it to a place where all this music is related. The dance element is the link that binds all American music together.
Except for ballads. I guess there’s always slow dancing.
Yeah! And the drummer, Baby Dodds, who played with King Oliver and Louis Armstrong, reportedly said that when they played dances with King Oliver’s band, they played so soft that you could hear the peoples’ feet on the dance floor. The music was initially about entertaining your audiences. And it’s turned into something else at this point. If the audience is entertained, that’s good, but that’s not the primary resolve for a lot of guys and gals playing music today. But that’s what the Uptown Jazz Orchestra is doing.
Listening to Jazz Party, your 2020 album, it seems like there’s plenty of room to combine danceable riffs with very musically interesting stuff.
It’s a very important aspect of the music. You know, we have so much access to music all around the world. And there’s great music. But just because someone plays music that has improvisation, you can’t just say, “This is jazz.” It’s not a bad thing that it’s not jazz, but don’t call it jazz just because there’s improvisation there. At the heart and soul of it, you’ve got to have that homage to Louis Armstrong and Charlie Parker. You don’t have to play what they played, but you have to know what they played. Because there’s improvisational music all over the world. What makes jazz different is the blues, the swing and the groove. And we’ve got plenty more of that coming. That’s what it’s about!
Do you have a new release on the horizon?
Yeah, in fact we’re releasing a CD in 2023 that’s going to have Mardi Gras tunes, and that’s the New Orleans sound. When people think of New Orleans music, the sound of New Orleans, it’s not really the brand of jazz that my family actually plays, in a generic sense. Because we’ve all made lots of different recordings, but the modern jazz sound, which is what my dad played and what we all kind of have at our core, that’s not really what you think of when you think of the New Orleans sound. So we like to utilize that, but also bring in that classic Fats Domino, Professor Longhair. That’s the core of New Orleans to me.
Can we expect some of that when you play GPAC?
Oh yeah, oh yeah. We like to play a wide range of styles. So we’ll have that Fats Domino sound, some Dirty Dozen Brass Band songs, and of course our own modern material, and what you might consider the classic swing tunes. Roger Lewis was one of the founding members of both the Dirty Dozen Brass Band and the Uptown Jazz Orchestra. He’s been a crucial member. And so we play some Dirty Dozen songs.
I love that line from an album by your brother Branford, usually attributed to you: “To obtain more wood sound from the bass, this album recorded without usage of the dreaded bass direct.” Is that part of keeping it old-school with you?
Well, we’ve got an electric bass on some of the tunes. So we’re changing it up. When I said that and did that back then, it was very important. If you’re recording acoustic bass, I think it’s important to have an acoustic sound. But now we have the electric bass on some of the songs, because some sounds, you just can’t get from the acoustic. It’s like life itself. It keeps going. It’s a continuum. We use the lessons that we learned. We’re trying to solve some new problems.
And we’ll be joined by two Memphis musicians: James Sexton on drums, and Alvie Givhan on piano. We’re playing in Memphis and then in Fayetteville, Arkansas, and they’ll be on both shows. Also, when we have rehearsal, there’s a youth jazz orchestra that’s going to come. And they’ll have an opportunity to sit in on the rehearsal and learn some of this riff music with us. We like kids to have an opportunity to learn what it’s like first hand. That’s a crucial part of it, and we were fortunate enough when we were coming up that folks gave us an opportunity, so we want to pay it forward.
As we reflect on the storied career of the late Jerry Lee Lewis, whose death was announced today, we recall when the Memphis Flyer‘s John Branston enjoyed this remarkable audience with the Killer some nine years ago. The story offers a vivid portrait of the artist at home in Mississippi with his wife, Judith Coghlan Lewis.
Charles Lloyd (Photo courtesy Forest Farm Music + Art)
It’s not every day one gets to swap emails with a living, breathing creative dynamo like Memphis native Charles Lloyd. But it’s not every day that finds him poised for what looks to be a euphoric homecoming, where Lloyd will rejoin an erstwhile collaborator who was living in Memphis recently, the phenomenal guitarist Anthony Wilson. Local music fans are already abuzz with news of their appearance at the Germantown Performing Arts Center (GPAC) on November 4th.
Wilson, a Crosstown Arts Resident Composer in 2021, made a resounding impression on the Memphis jazz scene while visiting here, sitting in with many artists even as he appeared in shows of his own. And, as he explains in a recent Facebook post, an extended stay here resonated deeply with his family history:
Since 2018 I’ve been working on a project of music & photography inspired by my family history in the Mississippi Delta, as well as other histories and vibrations centered in that most essential American space. I’ve been missing being there since my last visit in May. I’ll be so happy to return to the Delta at the end of this month for a few days, just before a tour w/ Charles Lloyd, who was born and raised in Memphis—the northern entry point to the Delta—and also shares deep history in Mississippi. It feels symbolic that we’ll play our first show of our tour in Memphis, and that we can begin by communing with the energies and voices of the lands and the waters and the endless skies and the ancestors who speak to and through us.
To learn more about their collaboration, and Lloyd’s own roots here, I reached out to the saxophone and flute master via email, where we conducted an interview-by-correspondence. What follows is a glimpse into the creative process of one of jazz’s greatest living innovators.
Memphis Flyer:Blue Note has recently released your Trio of Trios album set. What are your feelings about the trio as an intentional approach to music? Many fellow jazz players feel that there’s something charmed about a trio in particular. And that form has a charmed history in jazz, from Jimmy Giufre’s albums, to Sonny Rollins’ Way Out West, and beyond. What are some great examples of trios that have inspired you?
Charles Lloyd: Maestro Rollins’ Way Out West is great, as is Giufre. When I was a young man in NYC I used to play opposite Bill Evans at the Village Vanguard. I have always loved his trios, but especially the one with my friend Scott LaFaro and Paul Motian. The trio format gives a lot of space to the music.
How did the Ocean album specifically come about? Anthony Wilson was a resident artist here at Crosstown Arts not long ago, and the Memphis music world was quite inspired by him.
TheOcean Trio, which is the second trio in the Trio of Trios trilogy, was recorded in the one hundred and fifty-year-old Lobero Theater in Santa Barbara, California. I have performed there more than any other venue in the world — so it was very relaxed, kind of like my extended living room. The concert was live-streamed in September 2020, during the pandemic, so there is no audience. I asked Gerald Clayton to join me on piano — he has been touring and recording with me since 2013. And I invited Anthony Wilson on guitar, they both live in L.A. and were easily able to make the drive up. They both happen to be sons of famous musician fathers — Gerald is the son of bass legend John Clayton, while Anthony is the son of celebrated band leader, trumpeter, composer and arranger with strong Memphis roots, Gerald Wilson. When I moved from Memphis to Los Angeles to go to the University of Southern California (USC), I played lead alto in Gerald Wilson’s Big Band. So having Anthony playing with me now is like coming full circle. He is also a great composer and arranger.
Who will be playing in your trio at GPAC on November 4th?
At GPAC, Anthony and I will be joined by an amazing bass player, Harish Raghavan. Harish has a big rich sound and he has an ability to propel the music forward.
When I was recording The Water Is Wide, one of the engineers told me how much Anthony Wilson loved my playing. “You should hear him sometime,” he said. I didn’t know Anthony at that time; we had never met. But the fact that he was Gerald’s son meant a lot to me. Eventually we met, and then later, I heard him play (he also has a great singing voice!). He has been touring with Diana Krall for the last 15 years or so and has an extremely busy schedule. Covid slowed things down and gave us the perfect opportunity to get together. We are continuing to forge a path together in the music. Anthony has been exploring his Memphis roots in recent years, so it feels appropriate that we will launch the start of this tour here in Memphis at GPAC.
You’re known for your innovation, and collaborations outside of the jazz world. As someone who evolves so relentlessly, how does it feel to be bringing your newest music to Memphis? You’ve explored so many styles since you left your hometown. Are there still echoes of your earliest playing in what you play today?
I’m in service. Music was always my inspiration and consolation — I hope I can bring that to someone and lift them up. Nancy Wilson called me a bluesman on a spiritual journey. The blues are in my DNA but I’m also an explorer looking for that perfect sound. The sound that will allow me to put my horn down and go back into the woods. But the Lord has this carrot he dangles in front of me… “Not yet Charles, not yet. Just a little bit further.”
The Charles Lloyd Trio will play GPAC on Friday, November 4, 8 p.m. Click here for tickets.
There’s a lot of laughter when Stephan Crump and I catch up on the phone, partly because long ago we played together in Big Ass Truck. Even then, both of us set our sights beyond Memphis. “For me, at that point, I knew that I had to be a musician, and I knew that I was going to finish school and move to New York,” he says of those days. His reason for making a hometown stop now has less to do with our old combo than what he found when he moved on to Gotham. For New York is where he’s truly carved out his own niche in the free jazz/improvisational music scene, and where he’s lived, composed, taught, and performed for nearly thirty years.
On Saturday, he’ll leave a little of what he’s learned along the way in The Green Room at Crosstown Arts. And, as he confesses, the possibility of old friends and family distracting him is daunting. “It’s quite rare that I play Memphis. And it’s pretty intense, because there are just so many more dynamics at play for me personally. I could talk about going straight into and through the fear! I’m just recognizing that there’s all this stuff, that’s all wonderful and a blessing, but is a lot to deal with. It’s more distracting.”
Lest anyone get the wrong idea, diving straight into and through the fear is part of the do-or-die attitude that Crump and many other players embrace while improvising in the most unstructured settings. But while he’s often pegged with the free jazz/improv tag, Crump actually plays in a variety of ways across many projects, as he explains below.
Saturday’s show will focus mainly on his latest album, a selection of works for solo bass dubbed Rocket Love, and, as revealed below, Crump is relishing the chance to bring all the sonic possibilities of the instrument to the fore on his current six-city tour.
Memphis Flyer: In your description of making the new record on Bandcamp, you say making it sustained you through the first year of the pandemic, “materially and spiritually.” It sounds like that was a real life-saver.
Stephan Crump: It was, man. There were so many blessings in that period. We have two boys who are now 17 and 13. My wife’s a high school history teacher, so she was teaching all day on Zoom, and I was helping the boys manage online school. I started teaching music online, but having the album project was absolutely a lifeline as far as creativity. Having my Bandcamp fans support an aspect of it made it feel like a community was behind it. A modest community, but it still felt good. So that was great. Also, I had a home studio, and I could have just planned a record and made it and been done with it, but, as I usually do with albums, whether it’s at home or another studio, I wanted to do a different process with this and really take my time and build that community, and not feel like it needed to be a certain number of pieces. It could just be open-ended. I could experiment. It was a really good mode.
How exactly were you interacting with your supporters?
It was through Bandcamp. They have a subscription-based thing that you can do. I wrote my subscribers updates and they would get two pieces a month: one cover or a standard, and an original piece. Then I also did a series of Facebook live concerts from my studio. Not only would I broadcast those to supporters and fans, from all parts of the world, I had all my microphones set up and I was recording it properly in my studio. So some pieces on Rocket Love were just me doing them in my studio in various moments, but some were recorded during those concerts. And that brought a different energy. Facebook Live is not like being in the same space with people, of course, but it’s still a performance and still creates a good kind of tension and energy to engage with. You do have to step up to a certain mode of performance that galvanizes your focus and energy. People would write comments, and I’d stop between tunes to respond. It felt good to me. I needed that.
Musically, it’s just you playing solo, right?
All of the pieces are just me on bass, except for one cool thing which was an experiment that worked out. The record is book-ended by this two-part piece called “Lament.” Those two pieces happened on the last two days of 2020. I wanted to try something different, so I said, “Let me do a piece channeling all my feelings about this year, all the complexities of it. And do a short piece where, instead of just one bass I’ll do three, with overdubs.” But on the first track, which I did on December 30th, I said, “Let me play one of the voices and then immediately play the second one and immediately play the third one, but without listening to any of it, with no headphones.” So I wasn’t listening to what I had played previously.
The next day, I did the same thing, but I listened as I overdubbed. And that’s “Lament, Part II.” I could hear what I played before. But on “Lament, Part I,’ I wasn’t. I love both pieces, but there’s something that is transcendent about the first one. It was such a learning experience because I realized I was playing along with what I had played before, because I was in the same zone, and I had just done it. Emotionally and spiritually, I was playing along with it. But the part of my brain that gets engaged when I’m listening and playing along, and interacting with something, was not a factor. So it remained on a less cerebral plane. It remained on a more spiritual plane.
I feel like it’s just a reminder to me that that’s where the real shit is anyway. That’s what we’re trying to get to when we are listening and interacting. That experimental way of doing it was just a more direct thing. Technically, if you were to analyze it harmonically and melodically, obviously there are things that never would have happened had I been listening and playing. But there’s something that gets communicated that’s so right, that whatever details on the surface that would be deemed to be dissonant or wrong or whatever, are totally irrelevant. That’s just surface information.
The stuff that we think music is about — notes and tones and chords and melodies and harmonic relationships — all of that is just the surface, the crust, of what it is. The real stuff that you need to make any of that worthwhile is living underneath.
Borderlands Trio, featuring Crump, Kris Davis, and Eric McPherson (Photo courtesy Stephan Crump)
Free jazz or improv is your stock in trade, isn’t it?
Yeah, like my project called the Borderlands Trio. We have two albums, and the latest one is a double CD called Wandersphere. It’s a piano trio, all spontaneously composed. It’s always evolving and always grooving. Playing that way is also a big thing that I teach. I love bringing people into that zone and clarifying for them how to be in that mode.
I also compose. I write pieces for my band, and for improvising ensembles. And that’s a whole other thing. How do you create an environment with a distinctive, powerful DNA that maintains its identity while also inviting people in to express themselves, and be as expansive as possible within that?
You write that you had planned the album even before the pandemic hit.
I had been thinking about it the year before, then in January I put the plan together, and February was when I did the initial outreach. I announced the process and planned to start in March. And then…[laughs].
I completed the year. I did it from March to March, which was my original plan. I completed it and had two albums worth of material, but this plan was never about being constrained by good album length. It was about using another forum to see what that brings, and not think about an album until afterwards. So I finished in March, but only later that spring or summer did I decide to curate an album from that whole body of work. And that’s what Rocket Love is.
The bass has so many sonic possibilities, yet it’s rare to be able to focus on that instrument alone.
When you’re talking about the acoustic bass, there’s so much to the sound of it that doesn’t speak through a traditional ensemble. There’s a lot of it you can’t explore and get to as a player, when you’re exclusively playing in those contexts. So it’s something I’ve been exploring in some of my other, less traditional ensembles, to try to make space for some of the expressiveness of the bass. Playing solo is an extreme version of that. You get to decide what your sculpture is, what you present to the audience. You can decide, this piece is going to be about texture, about sound. The next piece might be about melody, or groove. You can make those decisions, and by limiting yourself to the one instrument, you’re also expanding the palette of what’s viable as a piece of art.
Stephan Crump plays The Green Room at Crosstown Arts on Saturday, October 15, 7:30 p.m. Tickets: $20 advance/$10 student | $25 day of the show.
When Wilco take the stage at Mempho Fest on Sunday, they’ll be returning to a kind of spiritual center for the band. As the band’s multi-instrumentalist Pat Sansone reflects, “How can you do what we do and not have a crush on Memphis? Whether you’re pulling from early rock and roll, or from Big Star, or Memphis soul and Stax — whatever it is, there’s gonna be a thread that leads back to Memphis, somehow. I mean the first Wilco record was done at Easley-McCain Studios!”
Wilco’s Mempho appearance will kick off another round of two- to three-week jaunts the band has been making since spring, in an ongoing tour marked by its balance between large halls and smaller rock clubs. “Part of the band’s philosophy is to bring it to the people,” says Sansone. “Just recently we played Red Rocks, and then a week later we played a 1,300 seat rock club in Bozeman, Montana. And that little club show ended up being one of our favorite shows of the year. We try to make it approachable. It’s the nature of our band — we’ve got little pockets all over the place.”
These days, the band will be premiering songs from their latest album, Cruel Country, an album they backed into rather unexpectedly. “As we’ve been working on lots of tracks over the last couple of years, it seemed like we were making two records simultaneously,” Sansone explains. “One batch of songs had a country flavor and was more acoustic, and another batch was more the art pop side of Wilco. We were going to focus more on the art pop, but as we were getting close to our festival we do every two years in North Adams, Massachusetts, the Solid Sound Festival, it occurred to Jeff and to us that we had this country/folky body of work that was not far from being finished, so why not put the finishing touches on it, and offer it to our fans at the festival? Kind of as a gift for coming to the event. But as we started digging into these tracks and putting the finishing touches on them, it became apparent that, ‘Oh, this is our next album!’ This is a significant piece of work for us. So it wasn’t really planned to be the next official Wilco record until just weeks before it was released.”
And as for the live show, Sansone says “we’ve been playing a handful of the new songs in the set. And then a grab bag of stuff over the years. There’s a lot of material to choose from at this point! But we try to represent the different records of the band’s life.”
Pat Sansone (Credit: Sansonica, Inc.)
After their Mempho appearance, the band will make a slight detour: “We’re going to do an afternoon set at the festival,” says Sansone, “and then we’re gonna run over to Crosstown with some guitars and a snare drum and do two or three songs and have a chat on [community radio station] WYXR. I really want to show the rest of the guys what’s happening at Crosstown. I think they’ll be blown away.”
Beyond having his own program on WYXR, 91.7 FM, Sansone has seen Crosstown evolve and blossom since the earliest days of its renovation. “It all started with my friendship with [WYXR executive director] Robby Grant. I was involved in the Mellotron Variations project with him, and spending time at the Crosstown Concourse because of that. And I got to know Winston Eggleston. But I remember before Crosstown was even completed, we were in town for a Wilco show, and Robby picked me up to show me the building as they were developing it. And a couple years later, we performed the Mellotron Variations there. So Robby kept me in the loop as he was developing the ideas for WYXR, and when it became a reality, he asked me if I’d like to do a show, and I said I’d love to. There’s a radio station in Boston that I really love, WUMV, and I turned Robby onto it, and we’d trade other internet radio stuff. So we shared this love of radio as a medium.”
Having a radio show in the Bluff City brings things full circle for Sansone, who’s interest in Memphis far predates Wilco. “I grew up just hours away, in Meridian, Mississippi,” he says, “and I have an aunt and uncle and some cousins in Memphis, so it’s just always been a part of my life. Memphis was the big city. From a very early age, I felt the gravitational musical pull of Memphis. And when I was in my teens, and obsessed with the Beatles, I discovered Big Star and heard those half Southern/half English accents, and realized that this music had been made in Memphis, a place I had actually been to, I was hooked! There was no turning back.”
Wilco will appear at Mempho Fest on Sunday, October 2nd, 4:20 p.m., followed by a live appearance on WYXR 91.7 FM from 7-8 p.m.
Greg Cartwright appears Thursday at Halloran Centre (Photo courtesy Orpheum Theatre Group)
Fair warning: there’s an undeniable bias in my reportage here, being a frequent band mate and collaborator with the subject of the interview below, native Memphian Greg Cartwright. And yet a certain historical imperative compels me to document the details of this songwriter’s process when his work is deemed so notable by critics and fans alike. That became eminently clear this spring, when a song Cartwright co-wrote with the Black Keys, “Wild Child,” topped Billboard’s adult alternative airplay chart. It was a level of success that’s long eluded an artist who’s typically had more critical acclaim than financial windfall. Yet tomorrow, when the Black Keys appear at the Radians Amphitheater at Memphis Botanic Gardens for Mempho Fest, Cartwright will be able to hear the song echoing through the air from his back yard. Will he raise a toast to the Memphis night?
Moreover, this evening, Thursday, September 29th, Cartwright will join Don Bryant and Alicja Trout in the season opener of Mark Edgar Stuart’s Memphis Songwriters Series at the Halloran Centre, with all three artists performing examples of their craft without a band, in the round. At such a moment, how could I resist calling up my old pal Greg to ask him his thoughts on the songwriter’s craft, in all its intricacies and rewards?
Greg Cartwright (Credit: Graham Winchester)
Memphis Flyer:You’ll be appearing with a national treasure, soul singer Don Bryant, on Thursday. How do you relate to his work?
Greg Cartwright: Don’s got an amazing voice and range, and boy that guy can sell a song. It’s amazing! And I love that he and Scott Bomar have this cool relationship, where Scott is Don’s producer and bandleader, and I think that’s such a cool older guy/younger guy relationship. And it’s win/win both ways. Scott’s got great skills, too. And he’s going to be at the event, I think, playing guitar while Don sings his stuff.
Also, I’m a huge Lowman Pauling and “5” Royales fan, so for me, it’s cool to work with somebody who wrote a song for them. It’s as close as I’m ever gonna get to doing anything with somebody who was there when all that magical era of gospel and R&B was happening. And Don’s an amazing songwriter. I love all his songs, from the 50’s on, including the more recent stuff that Scott’s produced. And the Willie Mitchell stuff — all great. I know he’s going to really bring it. I’m a little bit intimidated, to be honest. I don’t know if I can sell a song quite as well as he can.
Don Bryant (Credit: Jacob Blickinstaff)
There’s a certain spirit in that older school of songwriting that you have really zeroed in on and emulated.
Yeah, I really have. A lot of Don’s generation is what inspired me, in a lot of ways, to write in the way that I write. So I take a lot more inspiration from that era of country and rhythm and blues as a songwriter. I’ve always tried, when I have an opportunity to perform with or alongside artists from that generation, because I know there’s something I can learn in person that I can’t glean from a record.
You can kind of see how they embody what they do.
Yeah. Listening to records is great. You can get a lot from that, like you can get a lot from reading a book. But to be able to have a conversation with Hemingway would be a lot different. I can talk to him and understand more where the person is coming from. I always find it interesting to meet performers from that era, because it’s a little more insight into what makes the magic happen.
That era of songwriting has influenced you going back at least as far as the Compulsive Gamblers, and even through your Oblivians work.
You know, Jack [Yarber/Oblivian] and I had already done rock and roll, folk, country, all kinds of R&B and all kinds of other stuff with the Gamblers. So when Eric [Friedl] joined us and we did the Oblivians, it was a pretty late-blooming punk band. We were already adults. It was kind of a fake punk band, is what it was. The idea was, “What is punk music? It’s discontent.” So there were a lot of songs about what you don’t want to do [laughs]. And we took a lot of inspiration from the Ramones. That was Joey’s thing: I don’t wanna do this, I don’t wanna go there, “I’m Against It.” Him telling you what he’s not going to do. And that was an inspiration for the Oblivians. A template, if you will.
You’ve mentioned before that you Oblivians thought of your band as both fun and funny. There was a sense of humor to it.
Yeah, there totally was. It was an opportunity to laugh at life. There are some things in life where you can either laugh or cry. And there’s some very dark material in the Oblivians’ catalog. We took a lot of inspiration from the Fugs, which is a very tongue in cheek critique of society, as well as the Last Poets, also with a heavy critique of society, particularly the racist society in the United States. And you might laugh, and then find yourself going, “God, I shouldn’t laugh at that. That’s horrible!” But it is part of looking at what’s going on around you and trying to find some way to think about it that’s not just sad. But yeah, there’s a lot of dark stuff in the Oblivians. And I’m glad I had a platform to do that stuff when I was younger, because I don’t think I have it in me to laugh at a lot of that stuff at this point in my life.
You’ve talked about how with the last Reigning Sound studio album, you were trying to write in a more positive way.
Yeah, that was a big goal for me; because the pandemic, for a lot of people and a lot of songwriters, was a reset button, where it’s one thing to gripe in songs, or complain, but when you’re faced with some kind of new reality where you don’t even get to be around people, well, you stop complaining and you want to find something to be appreciative about. And that’s a better way of putting it. I was looking to appreciate. There are many things out there that are obstacles, always, but if you’re curious about what is happening around you, and you’re appreciative of the good things that come your way…
For a lot of my life, I thought that the gift I had was that I was very good at emoting whatever pain I was experiencing, in a way that other people seemed to relate to. There are a lot of songwriters like that. They really know how to put that into words, and emote it in a way that elicits a response from other people, where they totally empathize. So a lot of times, I would just be in this kind of trance onstage, sort of crying in public, in a way, and people responded to that. And I can’t say I grew out of it. It wasn’t a natural thing. I would have stayed that way if I hadn’t done a lot of work. But on the back side of that work, I wondered if I could also be just as good at emoting appreciation.
A sense of curiosity is important to that kind of openness, isn’t it?
It really is.
I’ve talked to Don Bryant about this, and also William Bell. Certain writers have this curiosity and this empathy, listening to and absorbing others’ stories. William Bell described sitting in cafes, just people-watching and getting song ideas.
That’s very true a lot of times; it’s so important to be curious, listening to people’s stories, because that’s how you find new subject matter. If you were confined to your personal autobiography, that’s pretty limited. I remember that someone once asked Jack [Oblivian], “Where do you get ideas for your songs?” He was like, “Small talk in bars.” Local gossip! If you keep your ears open, there’s plenty out there to write about. There’s plenty of new ways to frame an age old story, if you’re curious enough to see all the options, all the twists and turns.
You’ve known and worked with Alicja Trout for decades now, haven’t you?
A long time! Yeah, so when Lorette Velvette left the Alluring Strange, Randy Reinke took her place. And then I took Randy’s place, and played with them for a couple years. Then I started the Oblivians and started to get busy with that, and Alicja Trout was learning guitar, and it was my job to teach her the Alluring Strange songs, so she could take my place. And that’s how we got to know each other: teaching her songs for Misty White’s band. So there you go, Misty White is the Kevin Bacon of Memphis! [laughs]
Alicja was just learning guitar, and it’s amazing that she’s come so far. It wasn’t that much later, maybe five years or so, that she was doing her own stuff and playing with Jay [Reatard]. But even before she played with Jay, she had a band called Girls on Fire, and that was her and Claudine, who played guitar with Tav [Falco]. They had a band together. And boy, when I saw them for the first time, I called Larry Hardy at In The Red the next day and said, “I found a band I want to record, send me some money!” But before I could make it happen, they broke up. [laughs].
And even at that time, I thought, “Wow, she has really come a long way.” And it really amazed me. She had surpassed me as a guitar player, as far as what she could do as a lead guitarist. Because I’m very limited. For me, I’m always accompanying myself so I can perform a song. I’m not a great lead player. I enjoy the challenge, but I would never say I’m very good at it. But there are just some people that really take to something. They’re really passionate about it, and just want to do it, so I guess she must have wanted it. It didn’t take her very long to become a very good guitar player.
You and Alicja both have one foot in the punk world, the heavier rock world…
Aggression.
Yeah! But you both also step back and write these very delicate songs. Like Alicja’s beautiful “Howlin'” on the album of the same name; it’s mostly just her vocals and quiet electric guitar.
I like a bigger palette, and I think she does, too. As for me, I’m so in love with songwriting. It’s been such a helpful tool for me in my life, in so many ways, to process things, that the bigger palette I have, the better I can express myself. And I’m not very concerned with commercial success. So that gives me even less limitations. I think a lot of artists become very limited stylistically because they’re trying to define themselves as a certain kind of performer, or a certain kind of artist. And there’s no shame in that, but you have to have one eye on the marketplace to do that.
The Black Keys appear at Mempho Fest on Friday, September 30. (Credit: Jim Herrington)
How did your collaboration with the Black Keys come about?
I met them a long time ago, probably about 15 years ago. They were traveling with The Hentchmen from Detroit. So when the Hentchmen played Asheville, they told me Dan Auerbach was a huge fan and wanted to meet me. So Esther and I went to the show and afterwards we had an impromptu jam session, with myself, the Black Keys, and the Hentchmen, and we had a great time and got to be pretty friendly. And I hesitate to say this, but he basically said to me how inspiring he found my work. And that’s a massive compliment. Whether it’s the Hives or the Black Keys or whoever — people who’ve actually had success — for them to say to me, “Wow, you’re a huge inspiration to me, a lot of my art comes from emulating some of the things I hear in your music.”
But it’s an even bigger compliment when someone gets to a successful point in their career, and they say “Hey, would you like to come help me work on these productions and songs?” Dan thought enough of my songwriting that he not only wanted it in the Black Keys, but wanted me to help him with other artists he was working with. I really appreciated that. It helped me in so many ways. It gave me a new income stream, just to have a song credit on a Black Keys record is no small thing, especially if it’s a hit. And “Wild Child” was a hit. The synch license requests are still coming in daily.
But also, I think it opened me up to the idea of collaboration in a way that I had not allowed myself before. So around the beginning of the pandemic, I said I tried to focus more on appreciation, and that was a huge moment of growth. But then doing all these co-writing sessions with Dan also represented a lot of growth for me.
Prior to that, being in so many rock bands … When you’re in a band together, you spend too much time together, and eventually some things end acrimoniously. It was definitely that way for me. Prior to the Reigning Sound, the Oblivians spent too much time together and started to get on each other’s nerves. Then Jack and I went back to the Gamblers for a while, and we thought we could do that, but we quickly found out that we still, underneath it all, needed to get away from each other.
The now-defunct Reigning Sound in 2003 (cover photo by Dan Ball)
So when I started the Reigning Sound, my idea was that I would start a band where I would be the benevolent dictator, and everybody would have to do what I said. And I would be good to everybody, I would pay everybody fairly and be equal, but it would just be my songs and the covers I picked. I had never been the boss before, but at that point in my life, I needed that level of total control. Because I didn’t trust people. I had been burnt, I had had relationships that crumbled. And this kind of happens in romantic relationships, too, where you get to the point where you think, “I just need to be in control. I can’t relinquish any control because I might get hurt”. If you can’t be vulnerable, being in control is kind of the obvious option. And luckily I met you and Greg [Roberson] and Jeremy [Scott], and you guys were cool with that. You’re all great songwriters, so to find a bunch of talented people who understand music and get where you’re coming from, who aren’t going to be angry that you don’t want to consider their songs, that’s tricky. And for that same reason, it can’t last forever.
And I came to a point where, when I wrote this last record [A Little More Time with Reigning Sound], I thought, this is a much more positive side of my songwriting, but it’s also the last great burst, for a while, of me needing to have a band where it’s just me and my vision all the time. Now what I really want is to learn how to be vulnerable with other people, and to open up to other people’s ideas. Right now, I really want to do that. You have to tread lightly, and pick people that you trust. You have to pick people that feel safe, and then you can be vulnerable, and then you can be playful.
Did your collaboration with Dan Auerbach begin during the pandemic?
It did. His engineer Alan called and said, “Dan would really like you to come and write. Are you available these days?” So I went, and I had no idea what we would be doing, or who I’d be writing with or for. I assumed it was Dan; I thought maybe it was a solo record or something.
So I got there, and Dan said, this guy Marcus King is going to be here in a half hour and we’re going to write. And it kind of scared me! But as soon as Marcus got there, he was so friendly and open and funny that we had a great time. We got right to it and had four songs in a day. And a little while later, Dan called me back to work with another guy he’d signed, Early James. And we ended up doing two writing sessions together.
And after that, Dan said, ‘I’ve got another one.’ I asked him who it would be with, and he said, ‘It’s the Black Keys.’ [laughs]. So I went and we talked about some song ideas. He played me some jams that he and Pat [Carney] had recorded, with some hooks and stuff. So I went home, sat with them for a couple ideas, thought about lyric ideas, song ideas, chord changes that might be beneficial to the riffs that they had. And I went back and we sat around that day and wrote the rest of the songs. And I wasn’t sure what was going to happen at that point, but they just walked into the other room immediately and started recording. It was instantaneous. They recorded them just as we had worked it out together, then Dan put down a vocal, and that was it, we were done.
I’ve never experienced anything like that in my life! Usually you write a song and there’s weeks or months in between that moment of inspiration and when it gets laid down on tape. But Dan loves the idea of catching something when it’s fresh. There’s some kind of magic there that you might lose if you continue to play and record it. And I think that’s what makes the Black Keys work, especially when you listen back to their earliest stuff, that’s kind of raw and live, like the early Oblivians stuff. There’s not a lot of production going on, and not a lot of adjusting it after the fact. It is what it is.
It also speaks to how carefully you crafted it right out of the gate.
Right, you did all your thinking already. And I think Dan’s very much like the early Billy Sherrill and Rick Hall and all those people. They’re his heroes. And back in their heyday, pre-production was everything, because you couldn’t do much once it was on the tape. It was so limited, track-wise. So pre-production was everything. Where are the mics gonna go? Are you gonna play loud or soft? How are you going to sing it? Everything had to be figured out before the tape rolled. And then you got what you got. And I think Dan appreciates that way of thinking. He tracks live to one inch 8-track, the same as the last few records I’ve made. I’m enamored with it as well. I love the idea of planning everything out on the front and then just recording it.
With something like “Wild Child,” some people may not associate itwith ‘great songwriting,’ because it’s more primitive. It’s not, say, Leonard Cohen-style lyrics or whatever, but a lot of craftsmanship really goes into riff-oriented songs as well, doesn’t it?
Yeah. The song is two chords. It’s about as simple as a song can be. To me, that requires even more work. How do you build all these dynamics and cliffhangers and hooks and everything if it’s just the same two chords over and over? So it’s almost more challenging to make a really fun ride out of those two and half minutes. And I think that’s how people used to work back in the day. Now artists and musicians have the option of, “Well, you can lay down the basic track and continue to tweak it and add things and take things away, ad nauseam.” That is definitely a way to build a song. But it doesn’t really speak to me. And also, it’s exhausting. Because you’re never really sure when you’re done. If you’re doing all this stuff after you record it, editing and stuff, where do you stop? The way people used to do it, when you stopped was when it was recorded, and then you just mixed it.
It must have been very gratifying to go through that process in a day ortwo, and have one of those songs become a hit.
Yeah, it’s been a real experience, to say the least. I knew the date it was coming out, and I was really anticipating it, almost voyeuristically, like, “Boy, nobody knows I’m part of this, and I get to just watch it all happen.” But then it came out and all this press came out, and there was my name in every interview, talking about the process and my songwriting. So I felt a little bit vulnerable in a way I wasn’t anticipating, which was a little scary. I thought I was just gonna be a name in a credit on a record label. I didn’t think they’d actually talk about me. But I was also really appreciative of that, once I became comfortable with it. They were trying to tell the world I’m a good songwriter. What a nice thing to do.
I always enjoyed the feeling of sitting in the audience at a Big Ass Truck show, say, watching my songs be performed by others.
I know what you mean. There is that feeling of like, “This will stand!” This will stand on its own. I don’t have to be there animating it. It’s not me, it’s the song. And that is a great, great feeling. You’ve built something that will last, and that other people can inhabit. People will empathize so much with the lyric that they want to deliver it themselves.
PreauXX (R) joins AWFM (L) onstage at Gonerfest 19. (Credit: Laura Jean Hocking)
“One thing about Gonerfest,” remarked an old friend who’s seen many of them in his day, “it always brings great drummers to town.” We were bobbing our heads to Nashville’s Snooper at the time, and their drummer was indeed distinctive, helping to elevate the crowd’s dancing to a climax last night.
That could be said of the whole band, of course. Imagine the Flying Lizards with Keith Moon guesting on drums, all buzzed on caffeine, and you’ll get close to the feel of Snooper. Pigtailed lead singer Blair Tramel hit the stage bouncing and leaping from the start, inspiring the audience to surge toward the stage as the mosh pit reached a boil.
Snooper (Photo courtesy Goner Records)
Yet the band was anything but standard-issue hardcore, instead combining that genre’s breakneck tempos and shouted choruses with an eerie sonic onslaught of two noise-weaving guitars, undergirded by a rhythm section akin to rolling thunder, topped by the warble of Tramel’s slightly processed voice and her occasional synth blasts. It was a sound at once trippy and energizing, as the band, largely dressed in workout windbreakers, matched Tramel’s energy leap for leap.
Snooper was a blur of movement at Gonerfest 19. (Credit: Laura Jean Hocking)
The tweaked reality of the band’s sound was augmented by the unheralded appearance of larger than life papier-mâché figures shuffling through the crowd. While not quite feeling theatrical, it was a subtle bit of world-building by the band, as they knocked our conventional world askew and replaced it with a more inspired reality of giant human flies and much more leaping.
Snooper’s larger-than-life puppets (Credit: Chris McCoy)
And yet Snooper weren’t even the closers. Instead, the final band was a beautiful puzzle that inspired swaying, twisting, and head tilting more than any mosh pit. Fred Lane and His Disheveled Monkeybiters brought a bold new approach to the classic Gonerfest closing set, bringing swing rhythms and alt-jazz chops to the festival for the first time. Ultimately, the bizarre left turn the evening took at the hands of Lane et al. was refreshingly unpredictable.
While the crowd eased up from the front of the stage a bit, the Disheveled Monkeybiters turned heads around the grounds of Railgarten, and got many up front moving, as the band alternated from tightly arranged swing stompers with riffs by the three horns, to the honks and growls of freakish free jazz. Presiding over it all with a kind of anti-charisma was Fred Lane, whose Dada-ist mutterings, non sequiturs, and scat singing ranged from the fiercely animated to the awkwardly reserved.
“In my ineptitude/I don’t really deserve to be alive,” crooned Lane, neatly summing up the dark self loathing lurking in his absurdist rants. It did not make for the classic barn-burning show closer that so many festivals offer. As if to extinguish such expectations, the tenor sax player stepped up to the mic and announced, “This is art!” And those of us who listened deeply to the chaos knew what he meant.
It was a set of extreme dynamics, most apparent in the closing moments of the show, when each band member mimicked their own death as they played shrieks of noise and rhythmic fusillades. How to follow that with an encore? Have Lane perform the a capella “Oatmeal,” of course. “I sailed the China seas/In my pajamas on a raft,” he sang whimsically. “I drift into the sewers/In a miner’s hat,” and then a few perfunctory squawks and honks from the band broke the quiet.
“Oh, what a glorious feeling/Oh, what a marvelous plight/To be numb beyond feeling/Senseless, without sight,” Lane’s voice returned, almost sotto voce, echoing in the glorious emptiness. It put a fine point on the group’s darkly humorous ethos, still oddly compelling over four decades after it was cooked up by Surrealist-friendly proto-punks in Tuscaloosa’s fringe art scene.
Incredibly, those two closing set weren’t even the highlight of the day for some Goner-goers. Many were still reeling from on-point afternoon performances by local favorites like Aquarian Blood or Sweet Knives. But the day’s local hero trophy must surely go to A Weirdo From Memphis (AWFM), whose set offered one surprise after another, always topping itself. Starting with the very diggable surprise of AWFM’s live backing band, showcasing the deep ranks of musical talent in the Unapologetic collective, the set accelerated when colleague PreauXX jumped onstage. It all culminated in AWFM’s use of a series of ladders to scale the box car-based stage structure, as he sang and spit rhymes from atop the venue’s giant retro sign, Roller SKATE For Health, towering over the ecstatic crowd.
A Weirdo From Memphis on the roof of the Railgarten stage at Gonerfest 19. (Credit: Laura Jean Hocking)
After that, Sydney, Australia’s Gee Tee gave the fans a rush of amped-up, old school punk with a tweaked edge, as if the young Clash had found a Casio in the dumpster. Their catchy set caused a dramatic upsurge in Gee Tee T-shirts as the night progressed. Then, seeming to go through the history of alternative music, Austin/Melbourne/New York-based Spray Paint took us into post-punk territory, as their twin guitars seemed to redefine harmony and dissonance, matched by the urgent shouts and wails of the singer. And, throughout the day, an added perk of a Railgarten-based Gonerfest became apparent. Through all the textures of guitar riffs, synths, and impassioned vocals, another sonic element was occasionally woven: the blare of the train horn, and the visceral rumble of heavy steel wheels on the rails. That screeching guitar feedback, those gut-rattling beats, all were coming home to the urban wall of noise from which they were born. Memphis AF, y’all.
