Thomas Crivens (Photo courtesy of Beale Street Caravan)
Beale Street Caravan has become a formidable exporter: It’s the most widely distributed blues radio program in the world, attracting more than 2.4 million listeners each week. Produced here in Memphis, it regularly broadcasts, via nearly five hundred radio stations around the world, the live performances of artists from Memphis and the Mid-South, or inspired by the region. That’s quite an ascension for a show begun in 1997 with producer/executive director Sid Selvidge working under the auspices of the Blues Foundation.
In 2001, the program broke off to become an independent nonprofit. Having a talent as formidable as Selvidge as its first executive director set the bar high for Beale Street Caravan, but for the past two decades musician/producer Kevin Cubbins has excelled at the role, blending the professionalism of a studio engineer with the eclectic taste of an artist. Now he’s moving on and Thomas Crivens is stepping into the executive director role after four years of producing shows for the program.
“After almost 20 years, I think I’d been there plenty long enough,” says Cubbins. “I did feel like the end of the pandemic brought this moment where if we were ever going to have a leadership transition, now’s the time. I am excited for Thomas, and I support the board 100 percent as he steps into that role.”
Indeed, the transition takes place with Beale Street Caravan set to return to the airwaves this fall with its first new episodes since the pandemic. After the onset of Covid, the program remained on-air by broadcasting recordings from its extensive archives. Now, with pandemic restrictions lifting, show organizers are excited to get back on the road again.
“With live music shows coming back into our lives, it’s good to know that Beale Street Caravan will be under the steady hand and institutional knowledge of Thomas,” says the nonprofit’s outgoing board chair, Cynthia Ham. “We will once again be recording, preserving, broadcasting, and sharing worldwide the sounds of Memphis and the Delta region.”
In addition to being a show producer, Crivens, like Cubbins, is a guitarist of some note. He’s also a booking agent for local and national recording artists, and the first African American to lead the globally syndicated music program.
“Being a product of Memphis and its vibrant music scene, I’m excited at the chance to lead this showcase of the city’s musical talent and influence to the world,” says Crivens. “Through the continued promotion and celebration of Memphis music, Beale Street Caravan will continue to nurture pride in our city, while simultaneously increasing Memphis’ global visibility and recognition as a hub for music creation and performance.”
A native Memphian, Crivens is a graduate of White Station High School and Morehouse College in Atlanta, and holds an MBA from the Fogelman College of Business and Economics at the University of Memphis. He’s also served in executive positions at Memphis City Schools and Baptist Memorial Health Care Corporation.
The Smartest Man in the World (Photo courtesy of Michael Jasud)
Many Memphians who loved the now defunct Dead Soldiers did so because of their eclecticism. What band more freely mixed their Americana leanings with art rock and a cinematic sweep? And yet, hearing the Dead Soldiers’ front man, Michael Jasud, tell it, the sounds in his head during that band’s heyday were even more eclectic than what we heard.
Exhibit A in that claim was Detective No. 1, Jasud’s foray into instrumental film music in search of a film (read Jesse Davis’ 2019 write up on that album here). Now he’s scratching that eclectic itch with another group and batch of recordings, under the name The Smartest Man in the World. They’re playing The Green Room at Crosstown Arts tonight, July 15, at 7:30 p.m.
I gave Michael a ring to hear a bit more about this latest musical journey, already boasting a handful of singles and with an album due in the near future.
Memphis Flyer:You’ve shown a lot of stylistic versatility in your musical projects. Where does that come from?
Michael Jasud: I’ve always wanted to do everything that I was inspired by, you know? Years and years ago I was into metal, then I got into country and singer/songwriting. And then I got really into movie soundtracks and weird, atmospheric instrumental music. I’m working on an electronic music project right now that I’m going to put out soon under some sort of different title. I think I’ve been on this quest to create the context for me to do whatever I want to at any moment — giving myself a vehicle to create and switch gears, depending on what I’m feeling at the moment. So for The Smartest Man in the World, I’d just been in Dead Soldiers forever. I’d been doing Americana, and I wanted the opportunity to write in a way that reflects all these other influences I have that don’t have an outlet. I had to make a new project to do that with.
So is this kind of a catch-all?
No, it’s more a vehicle for my more conventional pop songwriting, as opposed to pulling more from Americana or classic American influences. This stuff pulls from anything from, let’s say, David Bowie to Nine Inch Nails to the Beach Boys. I had all these influences floating around my head, and I wanted the opportunity to write freely as a postmodern millennial dude who grew up listening to everything. I wanted to have some place, identity-wise, that allows you to go, ‘Yeah, this is the weird David Bowie/Nine Inch Nails mash-up that I’ve always wanted to do!’
I feel like, if you have a vision for something, the only way to show people what you’re trying to do is to do it. If you explain an idea to somebody, they’ll say, ‘That’s never going to work,’ but if you just do it, it might. So this is a project where I had more freedom to do that. I made this record with Toby Vest over maybe three years, just getting together over and over again. He was super supportive in setting up this auxiliary studio in our rehearsal space at the time. And it was really one of my biggest growth periods as a musician, because I was able to get out of my comfort zone, over and over again. Toby would encourage me to do that. Like encouraging me to play lead guitar more. And except for a couple tracks that Jake Vest played on, I ended up doing all the guitars on the record.
And I got to work with Rick Steff a lot, which was intimidating, because Rick is such a wizard, but he’s also a really big-hearted guy in terms of approaching the material. There’s always insecurity in being a songwriter, so it’s hugely confidence-inspiring when really talented musicians buy into your vision. So spiritually, being surrounded by great musicians like Pete [Matthews], Toby, Rick, Shawn Zorn, and Landon Moore really gave me a place as a songwriter to feel like, ‘Okay, these guys are willing to hang with me.’
These guys are badasses. If they’re going to give me the time of day, then that’s all I need to feel like it’s worthwhile. I get to play music with these guys! What a gift.
So that recording project led to this show at the Green Room? And an album will eventually come out under the name The Smartest Man in the World?
Yeah. I have four singles that I’ve put out, from that recording period. And lately, I’ve focused on finding the right people to bring this project to life as a live group. And part of that is finding a sense of collaboration in that band. I don’t love the idea of being The Guy. It’s a little too much. I don’t want to make every choice. And it took a long time to put together a lineup of people and then for us to figure out how to play this record as a live band, with totally different arrangements.
You can do all kinds of things in the studio that are really hard to do in real life. So we got into the rehearsal space, and Krista Wroten, who played strings on the record, helped me rearrange the songs for this group of people. And when you’re collaborating, things happen the way they happen, and the gift of that is a surprise. The surprise that came from this was — initially I wanted to have a solo songwriting project so no one would tell me no. And what I found was, I miss having someone say ‘No!’ or ‘Maybe this would work.’ That feeling of camaraderie and friendship, that feeling that comes from throwing ideas back and forth. I missed that. And now I’ve found a group of people I like collaborating with. And we’ve figured out a thing that we do well together. So I’m really excited, moving forward, to write new music and just find a place to exist creatively that doesn’t give a shit about anything.
I feel so uninspired by trying to make a career as a musician that never panned out. Now it looks almost impossible for anybody to do it! I tell young people, ‘Don’t think that these people getting millions of streams on Spotify are necessarily cashing checks for their music.’ Maybe they’re on the road, but even that’s getting harder to do. So many venues have closed. People are spending less money. Unfortunately, the streaming landscape has devalued music. Where is the financial structure to give musicians a platform to invest time in becoming great? There used to be a middle ground. Someone would give you money to make a record. Personally, I had to get to a point where I didn’t care about social networking, or even performing, if it’s not going to be fun or creatively satisfying.
I’d like to re-imagine what support for live music means as a community. There’s a cultural poverty which leads to people fighting over scraps in this town. It can be super petty and embarrassing to experience. I’m more interested in how we can make art as a community. I see people in the Black arts community doing that way better than in the thirtysomething white music community.
What will the band Friday night look like?
We lucked out, because the Green Room has a budget for string players. So we have a string trio from Blueshift Ensemble, two horn players, two synth players, bass, guitar, drums, and a backup vocalist. And we’re going to do this big, eclectic thing. For me, there’s always a big Brian Wilson influence happening in my brain. In terms of that kind of eccentric, furious approach to pop music and arrangements. Luckily I have Krista for writing out the scores. But a lot of times, I think of producing and arranging more as casting. Once you’ve got an actor in a role, you have some aspects of what that character is locked in. If you have a great horn player, you can describe the vibe you’re going for, and they do something cool on their own. I believe everybody has an original voice inside of them, whether they find it or not. So I encourage people in my band to speak in their own voice.
Anyone who dives into Stax Records’ 1960s catalog is sure to revel in the silky sounds of the Mad Lads. Though not household names on the level of Otis Redding or Carla Thomas, they were no less at the heart and soul of Stax. Indeed, they broadened the label’s appeal, carrying the torch for a mellower vocal group sound.
Backed by friends and classmates Julius E. Green, Robert Phillips and William C. Brown III, the lead singer of the Mad Lads was John Gary Williams. And their first singles showed great promise, with the track above even breaking into the R&B charts’ top 20 of 1966.
That same year, the Vietnam War and the draft pulled both Brown and Williams out of circulation. But years later, upon Williams’ return to the group, The Mad Lads had one last chart hit with their cover of “By the Time I Get to Phoenix” in 1969.
By 1973, both John Gary Williams and Stax were considerably more politicized than the time of their first hits. In 1972, the label staged the Black Liberation-themed WattStax concert in Los Angeles, and Williams released his self-titled debut LP the next year, a changed man. His songs were about more than shopping for girlfriends. As he sang on the album’s closing track:
I believe that the whole damn world is going crazy Look at the world, there’s not a sign of peace nowhere (I believe that the whole damn world is going crazy) And does anybody care? Yes, love folks do (I believe that the whole damn world is going crazy) All the hate, all the discrimination (I believe that the whole damn world is going crazy) In the Holy, Holy, Holy Land, oh, there’s a man with a gun in his hand (I believe that the whole damn world is going crazy) It’s something I can’t understand, love should be in demand (I believe that the whole damn world is going crazy)
Though Stax folded in 1976, Williams continued performing through at least early 2018. But throat cancer claimed his voice soon thereafter, and, in 2019, his life.
And yet his 1973 masterpiece lives on, and only gains in reputation. Without a doubt, it’s a prime slice of the late-period Stax sound and its more ambitious string and funk arrangements — on par with works by Curtis Mayfield and Marvin Gaye from the same period.
That album, and Williams’ remarkable life immersed in early soul music, civil rights, and the war, will be the topic of the night this Wednesday, July 13, 6-8 p.m. at the Memphis Listening Lab. The space at the Crosstown Concourse has been ramping up their listening events, often featuring in-depth discussions of how historic albums were made, and this WYXR Stereo Session is no different.
The album’s producer, Willie Hall, who drummed on many Stax albums between 1968-1977, will lead the listening session and discussion, so there are sure to be many first hand accounts of what was going down on and off tape. While the event is free, the Memphis Listening Lab requests that attendees RSVP for the event.
Tameka "Big Baby" Goodman (Photo courtesy of SouLink Music)
Though she grew up in Shreveport, Lousiana, and will be laid to rest there in a ceremony on Saturday, July 9th, Tameka “Big Baby” Goodman was a Memphis performer through and through. Having had health issues for some years, the singer’s death on July 4th was not completely unexpected, but nevertheless sent many Memphis musicians and fans into shock. Goodman was 47, and died from complications related to a heart attack she had in 2016.
Guitarist Joe Restivo worked with her well before then, and thus experienced Goodman in her prime. And his awe is palpable when he recalls her performances. “I worked for her for three years, around 2010-13, at Memphis Sounds, which was this underground soul club. I was playing with the band A440, run by John Williams. As a guitar player, for me to work with a singer of that caliber was an honor. She had an incredible instrument.
“She could generate a lot of power as a singer, but was also very subtle. She could sing in a whisper. Amazing pitch, tone, all that, but the thing about it was that she was amazing at crowd work. She could improvise; she’d pick someone out of the crowd and kind of play with them. She was way more than just a singer. She was a true entertainer, and I think that’s kind of rare these days.”
He pauses, then adds, “And she was one of the nicest, kindest, sweetest women that I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with.”
Tameka “Big Baby” Goodman (Photo courtesy of SouLink Music)
That’s echoed by all who met her. Singer (and Memphis Slim House executive director) Tonya Dyson befriended Goodman soon after she relocated to Memphis. “I met Big Baby in 2005 or ’06, when she moved here after Katrina,” Dyson recalls. “And she was just a sweetie pie. She had this big Afro, and dressed really Afrocentric, like me. And she could just sing. She really knew her music, and the history around it. So we could talk all day. And she was so straight with everyone, across the board. She was super supportive and she kept up with people. She would call you and leave you a voicemail for your birthday. That was the type of person she was. Just super funny, jovial and happy.
“Even when she got sick and had that massive heart attack, she was still making jokes, and in great spirits. You wouldn’t have known that she had technically died twice on the table. There was a gig she played right after the heart attack, where she gave a powerful testimony. They were telling her family she might not live, and then they said, ‘If you do live, you’ll need hospice care.’ And yet there she was, standing there with a cane, singing!”
Recalling the time of Goodman’s first heart attack, Dyson marvels at her resilience. “They intubated her and it was sitting on her vocal cords. They thought she may not be able to even talk anymore. And within a year, she was up and singing again. That was just the person that she was. She wasn’t gonna take no for an answer, not even from life.”
Goodman’s manager, Jawaskia “JL” Lake, recalls how her life changed for the better in Memphis. “She was born and raised in the church,” he notes, “and she did some things in Shreveport, but she came to Memphis after Hurricane Katrina, and man, when she got there, she blew up. Eventually she even toured the country. She played the Apollo and a whole lot of other places.”
Just as Restivo noted Goodman’s quick wit with a crowd, Lake emphasizes her creativity. “It was hard to have a practice because she was just so creative. She made up stuff right there on stage. She was really one of a kind. You never knew what she was going to do, and she really knew how to grab the crowd. She was a fun, comical person, so she knew how to grab that crowd and interact with people. And just have a good time. She made that a part of her show.”
He also stresses the importance of her longstanding residency at Memphis Sounds. “She created her platform at Memphis Sounds, but after that she played all over the city, including a lot of weddings, a lot of corporate gigs. And she created big fan bases in Jackson and Bolivar, Tennessee. In Bolivar, her show got rained out once, but the people were so determined to see her that we had to find another location, on the spot.”
Lake notes that, though she returned to performing after her heart attack, that rally was short-lived. “It’s actually been about three years since she performed. She had already stopped before Covid. She was in and out of the hospital, and we just lost her.”
Many in the city are grieving, and many are making the trip to Shreveport for tomorrow’s memorial service. Lake notes that plans are being made for a separate memorial service in Memphis, sometime in the near future.
Reflecting on her artistry, Lake concludes, “She was an amazing talent. And you need to pull her up on YouTube to really see how amazing she was.”
“The last song she worked on was with me,” Lake notes, “because I’m an artist as well. We did a song together, and it’s the very last song she ever recorded. We were like brother and sister. She’s the type of person, where once she got to know you and open up to you, it’s like family.”
A memorial service for Tameka “Big Baby” Goodman will be held at 11 a.m. Saturday, July 9 at the Light Hill Baptist Church in Shreveport, Louisiana.
Memphis hasn’t offered many chances to hear music that’s completely spontaneous since the glory days of the ’90s, when the likes of George Cartwright roamed these streets. But that’s changing. Many improvisation-friendly fans were captivated and inspired by the Dopolarians’ set at the Green Room in pre-Covid 2020, and other groups dedicated to freedom in music have percolated up from time to time. Now, Goner Records is leaping into the fray, bringing storied saxophonist Jack Wright to B-Side Memphis this Friday with his trio, Wrest.
Wright, who one musician described as “the Johnny Appleseed of free improvisation,” has toured relentlessly since he began in 1979, and has scattered many seeds along the way in the form of “leaping pitches, punchy, precise timing, the entire range of volume, intrusive and sculptured multiphonics, vocalizations, and obscene animalistic sounds,” as his website puts it.
He’s also put a great deal of thought into what makes for great improvised performances, namely in his 2017 book, The Free Musics, and that must also count among the seeds he’s planted — all fostering an approach to sound that’s very different from our pop-music-obsessed conventions. And that’s where Goner comes in.
As Goner Records founder Eric Friedl describes it, Friday’s show arose out of the label’s fascination with another underground’s underground artist, Reverend Fred Lane, who first emerged from Tuscaloosa, Alabama in the ’70s and ’80s with his trademark mix of swinging jazz, country, and Dadaist lyrics. Reissuing his first albums recently tapped Goner into an entire parallel universe of free music.
“I was contacted by Evan Lipson, current bass player for Fred Lane about hosting a show for a group he was playing with, Wrest,” says Friedl. “I knew Evan was a monster on bass, and wanted to make something happen even before I heard this band. Then I checked ’em out. They were wild. I had not heard of the leader, Jack Wright, but was very intrigued by his playing and his biography. Community organizer, travelling the world, playing under the radar of most listeners — but obviously a master. Percussionist Ben Bennett plays a pile of self-made drums, stretched membranes, and other objects which are hit, rattled, and blown. What a trio!”
Pairing Wrest with an appropriate opener was the next challenge, but luckily there’s a regional free jazz Renaissance taking off under our very noses these days, centered on the Mahakala Music imprint in Arkansas, owned by a University of Memphis alum, Chad Fowler. He can often be heard with guitarist David Collins’ group, Frog Squad.
“Who to play with ’em? Some more straight jazz didn’t seem to make sense,” muses Friedl. “Some noisy whippersnappers could work. Our man on the scene Jimmy Enck brokered a deal with local horn heavy Chad Fowler, who brought his collective Deepstaria Enigmatica on board in their debut performance.”
That new group features Fowler and Collins with Jon Scott Harrison on drums and a certain Misterioso Africano playing the “mystery.”
Putting it in perspective, Friedl says, “I hope people come check this show out — it’s got world-class players on a small stage in Memphis, worthy of a large jazz festival in Europe.
“We had a great turnout for a couple of shows of percussionist Tatsuya Nakatani, playing bowed gongs and big and small drums and percussion. I’m always very interested in bringing avant garde sounds to Memphis. People will enjoy the spirit and music even if they don’t think they will. It’s fun and alive, in real time. Bring an open mind!”
Wrest and Deepstaria Enigmatica play B-Side Memphis on Friday, July 8, 8 p.m. $10.
Kraftwerk at Crosstown Theater (Photo by Robert Traxler)
“I program my home computer, beam myself into the future.” So sang the group Kraftwerk in 1981, then already over a decade into their mission of putting the world on notice: the human race is morphing into a cybernetic hybrid of the organic and the synthetic. And at the Crosstown Theater last Saturday, the prescience of their vision over the past half century was brought home over and over again.
It seems implausible that a group so identified with “robotic pop,” so important to the history of hip hop and electronica, and so expressive of our collective technological fetishes, was conceived by two music students at Düsseldorf’s Robert Schumann Hochschule, a proper conservatory. Florian Schneider was a flutist and Ralf Hütter played organ, but they were early adopters of that now omnipresent musical machine, the synthesizer.
The rest is history, of course. Now the group, still led by Hütter (Schneider left the band in 2008 and died in 2020), rides the wave of their cybernetic vision well into the twenty-first century, having been honored with both a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award and a place in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. And by all accounts after last week’s show, the accolades are well deserved.
The awestruck faces and comments after the performance stood in contrast with the spare stage that audience members saw upon arrival. Four stark podiums stood in a line, center stage, backed by a giant screen. Then the lights lowered and the band strolled onstage in Tron-like jumpsuits imprinted with grid lines.
That was when most of us donned our 3-D glasses. As the band began “Numbers,” columns and rows of digits tracked across the screen. The 3-D effects were subtle at first; later, the numeric grid began to undulate, and we were plunged into another dimension.
And yet the effects always complemented the stunning music. True, I did physically duck the first time the pointy antenna of a spacecraft leapt off the screen and seemed to pierce my brain, and there were other such moments, but for the most part the 3-D animations were resolutely minimalist, and all the more effective for it.
Though there were a plethora of dancing numbers, notes, shapes, and even cars on the Autobahn, not all of the projections were animated, as archival footage of models, cyclists, and other subjects from the songs danced around the players. Memphis even made a cameo, as orbital images of earth zoomed into the Mid-South, then the city’s skyline, and finally on the street in front of the Crosstown Concourse itself. Meanwhile, the onscreen action contrasted sharply with the musicians, who manned their podiums stoically. That made their every foot tap, hip shake, and trace of a smile all the more telling: they were getting into it, but subtly.
And they were really playing. While some of their movements obviously included triggering certain sound patterns, they did have keyboards. Moreover, Hütter explained to Rolling Stone why the familiar old songs sounded so fresh: “Our music is changing in time, so we always play different versions; sometimes we change the tempos and sound,” he said. “Sometimes there’s different traffic on the autobahn. It’s all real. That’s what makes it interesting. Our compositions are like minimalistic film scripts or theater scripts. We can work with this; it’s never going to be the same. It changes over the years.”
This sheds light on why even the retro-futurism of Kraftwerk’s sound and visuals felt decidedly au courant. Even as images of late-’70s-era computer consoles floated before us, the musical weave of rhythm, melody, harmony, and noise was full of funk, beauty, and the sonic detours of strange breakdowns. At the same time, the group did not dip their toes much into the territory of sampling and infinite layering so common in modern electronic music. Their minimalist approach, often boiling down to the interplay of four contrasting parts, kept their aesthetic tightly focused.
And what a powerful aesthetic they’ve created. In a sense, the band was the ultimate expression of the pop art first envisioned in the ’60s: catchy, reproducible melodies, elemental rhythms, and lyrics built on simple phrases or even single words. Yet behind the simplicity, the classical inclinations of the group’s founders shone through, as in the intriguing modulations of the basic building-block chords of “The Man-Machine,” or the elegiac fanfare of “Tour de France.”
Combining all these elements, Kraftwerk reminded us of the power of world-building, paring down the real world to its most basic elements, only to reassemble them anew. That they did so with a real historical insight and an inimitable style was clearly inspiring to both fans and musical innovators that happened to see them in action.
To mark this moment, and savor the possibilities that these masters of funk, melody and noise revealed to us, we present images captured by two of the community’s most fervent music lovers, Ron Buck and Robert Traxler.
Kraftwerk at Crosstown Theater, Ralf Hütter, left, with Henning Schmitz. (Photo by Robert Traxler)Kraftwerk at Crosstown Theater (Photo by Robert Traxler)Kraftwerk at Crosstown Theater (Photo by Robert Traxler)Kraftwerk at Crosstown Theater (Photo by Robert Traxler)Kraftwerk at Crosstown Theater (Photo by Robert Traxler)Kraftwerk at Crosstown Theater (Photo by Robert Traxler)Kraftwerk at Crosstown Theater (Photo by Ron Buck)Kraftwerk at Crosstown Theater (Photo by Ron Buck)Kraftwerk at Crosstown Theater (Photo by Ron Buck)Kraftwerk on the Autobahn at Crosstown Theater (Photo by Ron Buck)Kraftwerk at Crosstown Theater
Setlist:
Numbers / Computer World / Computer World 2
It's More Fun to Compute / Home Computer
Spacelab
Airwaves / Tango
The Man-Machine
Electric Café
Autobahn
Computer Love
The Model
Neon Lights
Geiger Counter / Radioactivity
Metropolis
Tour de France / Étape 1 / Chrono / Prologue / Étape 2
Trans Europe Express / Abzug / Metal on Metal
Encore:
The Robots / Robotronik
Planet of Visions
Pocket Calculator
Non Stop / Boing Boom Tschak / Music Non Stop
Louise Page at Betor Fest 2021 (Photo courtesy of Music is My Drug of Choice).
The sleeper hit music festival of the year will be happening in a week, and it may just be the most socially-enlightened concert series in town. But if you’re thinking Betor Fest 2022 is only for folks who can’t spell, think again: it’s devoted to a group that’s been quietly helping addicts and others in recovery for years now, A Betor Way.
I tracked down the organizers, Jennifer Dancy and David McNinch, to hear about the production company Dancy started, Music is My Drug of Choice, and how McNinch, best known as the drummer for Mama Honey, got involved in Betor Fest.
Memphis Flyer:How did Music is My Drug of Choice get started?
Jennifer Dancy: My friend Aaron Renfro and I started it back in 2018 doing music events with Shelby County Drug Court. We were both Drug court graduates. Aaron hasn’t be a part of it for several years now but he is performing at Betor Fest (as AR Music).
But actually there was a Betor Fest before we were a part of it. So this will be the third festival but only the second that we’ve produced.
How did Betor Fest come about then?
David McNinch: Really it grows from the work being done by a couple named Ron and Lisa Bobal. They had a son, Ron Bobal, Jr., who was a graffiti artist, and his tag on the street was ‘Betor’. You can still see some of his artwork around the Memphis area. He died of a heroin overdose on Christmas Day of 2016, so they took it upon themselves to start an outreach program, A Betor Way.
For years now, they have been setting up right at Summer Avenue and Sycamore View. There’s a real sketchy area of motels there, and they started taking care of the addicts that were living in that area. And it has really grown since its genesis. Now they have trailers, and they’ve networked throughout the community. They show up with these trailers and they have a triage center, a trailer staffed by volunteer doctors and different recovery agencies, and they administer to the health needs of the addicts.
At this point, people know it’s every Friday. So the clients go through triage, they’re screened for HIV and hepatitis. And they have a full blown buffet — one of the most beautiful buffets you’ve ever seen in your life. And there are organizations that donate meals and snacks. They even give away bags of groceries and clothes. It’s so meticulously organized that you just come right through. And if a person is willing to go into treatment, they’re set up with a rehab center immediately, on the spot. It’s pretty amazing.
I volunteer there, and it’s one of the most life-affirming things I’ve ever seen.
So the idea for this music festival was already there, and no Music is My Drug of Choice is running with it?
David McNinch: We’re both huge fans of Memphis music. So Jenn and I decided to take on a music festival, the second-ever Betor Fest, this time last year at Carolina Watershed. Both of us are very connected to local music. We did the festival last July and it was tremendous — we were able to make five grand to help with various things the organization needs. And it was a beautiful thing, seeing what it meant to local area musicians. So this year we’re doing it on July 2nd and 3rd. We’ve expanded it to two days, and we’re now doing it at Growlers. It’s 26 performers.
Are they all donating their time?
David McNinch: Overwhelmingly so. There are some cases where people need to augment their lineups with paid musicians, so we have sponsors that have donated to cover some of those costs. But a lot of people, like Louise Page, Roben X, and others, have 100 percent donated their time and talent. It’s unbelievable.
And I’d like to add one last thing. When I started playing music again in 2019 with my girls, Tamar Love and Fields Falcone, as Mama Honey, we noticed that it was always the same artists who were getting coverage. So it was really important to Jenn and I to have a sense of diversity. We have canvassed the area, and our festival is bringing in groups from all around town. We wanted to have the most diverse lineup that we possibly could. And it’s almost every genre of music, from bluegrass to death metal to folk to soul. We’re kind of doing a mixtape, so to speak. I’m from the 80s. Back then, if you had a good friend, you’d make them a mixtape. So this is an opportunity to make a mixtape representing what we think is a Renaissance in Memphis music right now. I’ve never seen Memphis music like this, since the mid-80s!
Music is My Drug of Choice Presents: Betor Fest Saturday, July 2nd and Sunday, July 3rd at Growlers.
Sunday Schedule 1. Rachel Maxann 1:00-1:30 2. Graber Grass 1:45-2:15 3. Danny Cosby 2:30-3:00 4. Life Explicit 3:15-3:45 5. For the Time Being 4:00-4:30 6. Mick Kolassa 4:45-5:15 7. N8 Boog13 5:30-5:45 8. Danny Davenport 5:55-6:10 9. Roben X 6:30-7:00 10. Spacer 7:15-7:45 11. Music by KOTA 8:00-8:45 12. Louise Page 9:00-10:00 13. AR Music 10:15-11:15
Single Day Passes are $12 Advance / $15 Day of Show Two Day Pass is $20
The cover art for the HKM collection, art by Jeff Wack (Courtesy Wraysong Records)
It all started in 1967 when Mac Davis was managing Metric Music in Hollywood California. Davis put Memphis-based duo Hial Bancroft King and Ray Chafin together to collaborate on a music project. Liberty Records wanted something to follow an Elton John and Bernie Taupin album. Both members sing and play multiple instruments, but King was something of a musical virtuoso (and an avid experimenter, especially with synthesizer music and sound effects) and Chafin had a deft touch with lyrics and conceptual form.
Thus the Hyle King Movement was born. Unfortunately, the group was short-lived. Metric Music balked at the more experimental song composition, and the group’s demos were shelved.
For a time, that put a pin in the group’s musical endeavors — at least together. King wrote symphonies and conducted orchestras, played concerts, and was endorsed by many legendary conductors. He worked with Leon Russell, Lou Rawls, Jackie DeShannon, and Brian Wilson, among a cadre of charting artists. Chafin went on to record two of the duo’s songs on Bob Marcucci’s Chancellor Records and appeared on American Bandstand with Dick Clark.
Now, after a 30-year hiatus, Hyle King Movement’s two-volume collection has been remastered and released on Wraysong Records. I spoke with Ray Chafin about (with input from Hial Bancroft King) about the journey to get these songs out in the world.
Memphis Flyer: The synth-driven sound wasn’t what I expected based on looking at the cover. Can you tell me a little about how you crafted the sound for the album.
Ray Chafin: All the songs on the album were recorded on multi-tracks with Hial playing all the instrument parts on multiple sessions of overdubbing. The synthesizer was the main instrument for both sound and effects. He also sang all the parts in the extensive vocal backup, along with Grammy winning artist Darlene Koldenhoven. Each song was recorded at different times over several years, in Hial’s state-of-the-art King’s Studio.
The album is quite atmospheric. Can you talk a little about the decision to include sound effects in the music?
We, as songwriters, believe songs should be felt as well as listened to, visualized as well as heard, and sound effects add that touch of being there, witnessing, and experiencing what the words describe.
Would you talk a little bit about your musical influences?
Hial was raised in Hollywood during those years of classic filmmaking. His award-winning grandfather, actor George Bancroft, set the environment for Hial to become the child prodigy he was, and the extraordinary musician he is today. I, on the other hand, was born and raised on a farm in West Virginia, with country music and bluegrass festivals as my major influence. I didn’t play an instrument until my late teens.
At least in “Silvery Dawn” it seems that science-fiction is one influence. Is that true?
Absolutely! What was considered fiction 50 years ago is finally becoming reality today. This song stems from the prediction of coming events that are not clearly explained. However, in making the video I considered it science-reality. Having witnessed a UFO encounter with my mother in I952, I gained great respect for the notion that we are not alone in this vast universe.
Again talking about “Silvery Dawn” but it seems faith plays an important part in the lyrical composition. Would you talk about that?
As a child we were taught about the coming rapture, Hial explained it as a childhood fear that became this visionary dream with biblical origins. Rapture, they say, or an ethereal garden, perhaps.
“Cozy Little Corner” seems to have more of a lounge feel. Do you enjoy experimenting with different genres?
Certainly. We both love to tread outside the musical boundaries of the norm. Hial is the “king” of versatility, as shown in his work. He can do it all!
Is there anything else you would like to add?
It has been said, “The chase is more enjoyable than the catch,” and in our case it rings true. We had the good fortune to create songs, play music, and share special times with some pretty amazing people.
Reigning Sound play to a 2,800-person crowd at the Overton Park Shell. (Credit: @disciplephoto)
The Orion Free Music concert at the Overton Park Shell on Friday, June 10th, was an especially emotional one for many. Only two days before the show, Greg Cartwright, the Memphis-born singer and songwriter behind Reigning Sound, made it clear on the band’s Instagram page that last Friday’s show was to be the band’s last. For some time, rumors had circulated that Cartwright intended A Little More Time with Reigning Sound, the 2021 studio album on Merge Records, to be the band’s swan song, for reasons unknown. This was confirmed when he noted in his June 8th announcement, “It was my intention with A Little More Time to come full circle, reunite the original lineup of the band, and finish where we started.”
Still, it was hard to put an actual end point on the band’s life until, in the very same announcement, Cartwright wrote that “we are announcing the cancellation of Reigning Sound’s upcoming July European tour” because “Covid has proven to be a long-lasting concern and more difficult to navigate than anyone could have anticipated.” This alone caused a minor outcry across the pond, as European fans pointed out the many Covid-free tours now being conducted by other American bands. Soon thereafter, the outcry rippled into Memphis, as it became clear that the band’s Shell appearance would be its final show by default.
Though not planned as such, the Overton Park Shell turned out to be a perfect venue for the swan song of a band dear to Memphians’ hearts for the past 22 years. While Cartwright has lived in Asheville, North Carolina, since 2004, using personnel from both that city and Brooklyn in ever-evolving versions of Reigning Sound, the heart of the band has always seemed to beat in Memphis. This was only confirmed when Cartwright reconvened the original lineup, albeit with some added Memphis players, to record both A Little More Time in 2020 and its follow-up, Memphis in June, a live album from the band’s show at the Harbor Town Amphitheater, last year.
As it turned out, the band’s followers turned out in droves on June 10th. Natalie Wilson, executive director of the Overton Park Shell, noted that “we had 2,800 people in attendance. What an incredible night!” And indeed it was, as fans — singing along and dancing with abandon — bade farewell to a band whose whole was always greater than the sum of its parts. And, perhaps only humoring the fans’ many expressions of love throughout the night, Cartwright quipped teasingly that “I said our final show would be at the Shell. So we can come back to play here again and that will technically be true.” With that, the band, now including Cartwright, Flyer music editor Alex Greene, Seth Moody, Greg Roberson, Graham Winchester, and John Whittemore (with Krista Lynne Wroten lending violin and Marcella Simien lending vocals at times), took their final bow.
See the photo gallery below for a handful of images from the band’s farewell performance. All photos courtesy @disciplephoto.
Jombi: Caleb Crouch, Bry Hart, Auden Brummer, Sam Wallace, Joe Espinal (Credit: Michael Donahue)
Caleb Crouch came up with the name “Jombi.” He then told Bry Hart, “That’s your new nickname.”
“Five months later we decided to make that the band name,” Hart says.
And of Crouch, Hart says, “He’s a nickname guru. He loves to come up with that stuff.”
Hart, 20, is the drummer, and Crouch is bass player in the band that also includes rhythm guitarist/lead vocalist Auden Brummer, lead guitarist Sam Wallace, and keyboardist/second lead guitarist Joe Espinal.
Hart and Crouch were the initial members of Jombi. “We started as a jam band. We are now — I’m quoting a friend of ours — ‘a band of ambiguous genre.’”
The band recently released Jombi Presents… — six songs recorded at Young Avenue Sound.
A native of Jackson, Mississippi, Hart was influenced by his dad, Fred Hart, a guitarist who played in bands in high school and college. “He did a lot of the same things I’m currently doing now.”
And, Hart says, “He formed Grandmaw’s Attic when grunge came around. They all went to Delta State University and they played around Cleveland, Mississippi. They had a decent audience and they made a record. I’m saying all this ’cause I think that had a big influence on me wanting to write my own music and perform it live and network.”
His dad introduced him to a lot of music, including Mötley Crüe, Jimi Hendrix, and The Cars, when Hart was 5 years old. “He showed me all the stuff he listened to when he was younger. He also showed me bands like The Cult and Drivin N Cryin. That’s one of the first CDs I ever listened to — the Smoke album.”
Hart also was into “the toddler stuff.” He recalls dancing to The Wiggles, which was an influence on his own music direction. “The blue Wiggle, Anthony, played drums and I wanted to be like him.”
He also loved the Jet song, “Cold Hard Bitch,” which his parents just referred to as “Drums.”
“I’m sure it was the visceral nature of it, hitting things,” he remembers. “Listening to songs and learning the drum parts attracted me more than learning anything else in the song. Even as a young kid, I could sing the songs a little bit, but I was very into the rhythmic side of things.”
When he was 3 years old, Hart got “a very small kid’s drum set” for Christmas. “I broke it on the first day. I just played it so hard. I was such a hard hitter at that age. The heads busted through and my cymbal got bent. I was disappointed, but they went out and bought me another one.
“I went through about six of those Walmart hundred dollar kid’s drum sets. By the time I was about 5 [years old], my parents started to understand there was more going on.”
On his 6th birthday, Hart got a Pearl Forum drum kit. “One of their beginner series and it was beautiful. It has black, sparkly wrap. I still have it, but I don’t play it.”
Hart who began taking drum lessons when he was 7 years old, moved with his family to Southaven when he was 11. He began studying at School of Rock Memphis a year after it opened. “Being with kids who shared the same passion as I did, connecting with them, playing, lit some fire in me.
Hart expanded his musical knowledge and foundation while studying at School of Rock Memphis. “Getting so used to playing live before I even went out and did it on my own was super beneficial to me. As well as having and knowing the benefit of having chemistry on stage. Being able to communicate on stage. Being able to communicate in a practice space.”
Caleb Crouch and Bry Hart at a School of Rock Memphis show in 2020 at Newby’s. (Credit: Michael Donahue)Joe Espinal, Son.Person, and Bry Hart at a School of Rock Memphis show in 2020 at Newby’s. (Credit: Michael Donahue)
His first band, but not one he formed, was 2nd Gen, which played “a good mix of stuff,” including a lot of ’80s material like “Don’t Stop Believin’”and “Don’t You (Forget About Me).”
Hart was in the drum line in marching band from freshman to junior year at Lewisburg High School. “Drum line opened my eyes to a lot of the techniques I think I had missed out on learning [on a] drum set and, specifically, rock songs. Using different grips and focusing more on dynamics as well as writing in general. Hearing a lot of the music that was written for marching band and symphonic band was very influential because I had never been super into that stuff before I was forced to play it.”
Hart became close friends with Crouch and Espinal at School of Rock. Sharing the same musical tastes, the three started a band, Water Illusion, with another friend, Max Dixon. “We had listened to a lot of the progressive rock that had come out of the ’70s as well as some progressive metal like Dream Theater. So, we tried to write this intricate stuff while we were very young.”
After that band broke up, the musicians took a break until the summer of their sophomore year when they formed another band, Illustrated History. “This time writing stuff a little less technical.”
They were the backing band playing original music by Livia Overton, who was the singer. But that project didn’t gel.
Then Covid hit. During quarantine, Hart, who began writing songs when he was about 12 after “messing around with GarageBand on an iPad,” went to his computer and wrote 15 songs, which he made into demos with Brummer as vocalist.
Hart, who originally was influenced by drummer Neal Peart of Rush, says, “His lyricism really attracted me.”
A lot of Hart’s lyrics were “fiction-based. I was writing little stories inside of songs.”
He recorded one of his songs, “Vanessa,” at Young Avenue Sound with Brummer as vocalist. “It sounded way better than we could ever have imagined. First recorded song of mine I had ever heard.”
He released it on Spotify and other streaming platforms under his name.
“Vanessa” was the impetus to form Jombi a month later. “I had the idea to get a band together just to perform ‘Vanessa’ live. That’s all I wanted to do. I wanted to perform ‘Vanessa’ live and maybe start writing some other songs for the band.”
He and other members of what would become Jombi got together to “see how the musical chemistry and social chemistry works.”
Jombi (Credit: Michael Donahue)
They listened to a lot of Phish. They liked “the complex arrangements with the live improv and a very heavy emphasis on funk and groove-oriented stuff as well as a commercial sense.”
“Vanessa” sounded great with the band, so they added some covers. “We do a Band of Gypsies song, a Cream song or two, Doors. We would take those songs and make them jam-based songs. We’d improv over them for long periods of time.
“We would take an idea we had and then everybody would add their own little fairy dust to it and make it a Jombi song.”
They had about three songs finished when they played their first show a year ago at Hi Tone. “When we stepped on stage, we let loose. And everything that makes us us kind of came out. We found our footing as a live band, a live act, just by doing that. Going out and doing it. ’Cause you can’t do that in a rehearsal. There are 70 people looking at you.”
Jombi (Credit: Michael Donahue)
As for the new album, Hart says, “We have written a bunch of songs that all sounded different. Most people nowadays hold onto singles and just release single after single after single. After I realized how different each of our songs sounded, I realized that wasn’t a good idea because the songs sounded so apart from each other. It wouldn’t even sound like the same band.”
So, they decided to do an album so they “could put all of those songs together. I think all of them connect in some way because we wrote them together and recorded them together.”
“Party Time,” one of the songs, lasts 10 minutes. “Lyrically, it came from Crouch’s dad. He wrote poetry when he was younger.”
The poem was about growing older. “As time goes on and time gets harder, you’re still going to have the people that stay with you and make things easier.”
“We’re all nerds,” Crouch says. “We’ve all spent an obscene amount of time practicing our instruments. That amount of study is bound to affect the music you play and write. There isn’t anything we can do about it. Our music is kind of nerdy. To me, that’s what I like about it and what sets it apart.”
And, he says, “I think we do a good job at making heady music accessible to anyone willing to listen.”
“I feel like we’re quite a young band for the music we play,” Wallace says. “I have a lot of musician friends and a lot of them are doing stuff that’s a lot more modern, in my opinion. I know guys who play punk rock, grunge music, but I really feel Jombi, in a way, captures a more classic vibe with kind of a modern twist.”
“We all have fairly different music tastes,” Brummer says. “We can all kind of appreciate each other’s. Caleb really loves jazz. Bry is into progressive music. Me and Joe are into jam bands. And Sam is more into modern indie stuff. And kind of having all those music interests and different styles in one group lends its an interesting sound.”
They bring their influences into the music they create, Brummer adds. “On our last album we had a 10 minute long fusion kind of jam song. And then we had a three-minute pop song as well. It’s a varied musical environment to be in. Having all those different skill sets and creative brains in one place allows us to do certain things with music that other bands — at least in Memphis — might not.”
“We’ve each played with each other for a number of years, so we have a unique chemistry that only comes with time,” Espinal says. “As a result, we have the ‘Jombi sound,’ which is the blend of each of our styles with the cohesiveness of knowing each other really well.”
Wallace will be moving to Nashville before the end of summer, Hart says. “Which may create a bit of a halt in our process, but I don’t fear it.
“The big picture is to record as many songs as possible and to play live out of Memphis. Get around Tennessee, the Southern region, and promote our music and play live. That’s a big goal for us.”
Hart is confident about Jombi’s future. “In a non-egotistical way, we have developed our craft playing our instruments for a long time. And we’ve done that all in the same place, in the same environment, to where the chemistry we have on stage is undeniable.”
To listen to Jombi Presents…, click here: https://songwhip.com/jombi-presents
