COVINGTON,KY– Kofi Baker is his father’s son, but only to a point.  The son of former Cream drummer Ginger Baker, Kofi followed his famous sire into the percussion world and took up his jazz stylings.

“My earliest, vague memory is running onto the stage at the Old Grey Whistle Test when I was six,” Kofi remenisced, in our phone conversation from his home in Southern California, where he operates his own drumming school.

“My dad’s roadie tricked me into playing.  The kit was set up – my dad was playing a show there – it was a TV show in England.  And [the roadie] said, ‘Go warm up the drums,’ so I was like ‘OK.’  And I ran out to the kit and started playing.  And everybody started pouring into the club and the film cameras started rolling, and I just remember looking up over the toms and seeing all these people watching.  I can’t remember playing, I just remember seeing all these people rushing in and running off the drums.”

Kofi has backed Steve Marriott of Humble Pie, toured with Jack Bruce and with others.  Whereas Cream and many of their late ‘60s  English peer bands took up a blues mantle, Kofi always felt more tuned into fusion and experimental rock.

“I was into Frank Zappa.  I listened to Terry Bozzio – all the drummers for Zappa.  [Miles Davis’ drummer] Tony Williams.  Those jazz fusion drummers really influenced me.  But there are so many great drummers out there.”

Growing up Ginger Baker’s son was undoubtedly challenging, and Ginger didn’t give Kofi an easy road to travel.  He made Kofi work – hard.

“The way he taught me to play drums, I definitely wouldn’t teach my students that way.”

How would Ginger Baker teach one to drum?

“With a lot of swearing,” Kofi snickered.  “Basically just shouting at me.  I had to play it right straight away or I got shouted at.  It forced me to learn really quick.”

Yes.  Difficult.

“He’s a great person.  He just shouldn’t have had kids,” Kofi explained.  “He’s a character.  It’s not that I don’t love him or anything – he’s just hard to be around.”

Despite it, or perhaps because of that environment, Kofi has managed to thrive.  And his latest project, Kofi Baker’s Cream Experience, seeks to pick up where he feels Cream left off.

“[Ginger’s] drumming was amazing.  He definitely was a pioneer of his time.  He did great stuff for the drumming world,” Kofi said.  “Unfortunately, he stopped.  That’s kind of why I’m doing it.  He stopped progressing after a certain time, and to me drumming really progressed on.  I’m honoring what my dad did, but I’m doing it completely my own way.  I don’t play songs the way my dad would play them – I play them the way I would play them.”

“I’ve been a jazz player for a long time – I’d been playing these fusion gigs and people would always find out who I am and it would be, ‘Play “Sunshine of Your Love,”’ or, ‘Play “White Room,’’’ or something like that, so we started throwing a few Cream songs in and everybody loved them.  And they were like ‘Why don’t you just do a Cream band?”  But it’s my dad’s thing and I didn’t really want to do it.  Then I went to the 2005 [Cream] reunion in Madison Square Garden and I saw the crowd and everyone really into it, and I thought, well it’s a shame not to keep it going.”

So.  Another famous musician’s kid, riding coattails?  Dusting off Daddy’s catalogue and going on the road to appease some aging Baby Boomers who, if they can’t relive 1968 with the real thing, will settle for the next best tribute band?  Not so, said Kofi.

“Cream was a jazz drummer, a jazz bass player and a blues guitar player, and they covered peoples’ tunes that they liked.  And I ended up doing the same thing, covering some Beatles’ tunes, some Hendrix, all kinds of stuff.  We’re playing tunes we like, but then stretching it out and jamming, so it’s kind of the same idea.  We’ve got originals that we’re going to start putting in over the next few months.  It’s not really a tribute, it’s a Cream experience.  We’re not dressing up like Cream and just doing Cream songs – we’re doing all kinds of tunes in the same way Cream would do it.”

He said it with conviction.  This guy wants to get out and play.

“My approach is a lot more modern, obviously.   But bringing that whole ‘60s vibe – the jamming and improv.”  He paused.  “Because music doesn’t improv anymore.  Music’s really gone stagnant.  It’s like everybody plays an arrangement and that’s it, they play it the same every night.  Cream played it differently every night.  It’s exactly the same format as jazz.  That’s what Cream was really doing.”

I’ve never thought of Cream as a jazz band before.  They were hard rock.  Thumping R&B.  They were my dad’s band – I love them, but let’s face it, their heyday came twelve years before I was a pollywog in mama’s uterus.  I have no live reference point.  How would I know what a Cream show was like?  I’ve got a copy of Disraeli Gears on vinyl; I have their greatest hits on CD.  But those are two-dimensional reproductions, akin to looking at photographs of a sculpture.  So to get the full picture, what’s the harm in going to see a life-sized, three-dimensional representation?  Maybe this is where a thirtysomething could benefit from Kofi’s combo.  Maybe I need an experience.

“Music shouldn’t be, ‘this is how you play it.’  It should be from the heart and different every night.  It should be growing,” Kofi asserted.  “And I’m hoping I can bring it back to the younger generation and show how improv music is really a great thing to do.  We get to really jam.  I think it might take a little bit of time to get people to open their minds to the whole thing again, but I think it will happen.  I don’t do it trying to please everybody.  I do it because I love doing it.”

Kofi Baker’s Cream Experience is:

Kofi Baker – Drums

Fran Banish – Guitar, Vocals

Ric Fierabracci – Bass

SHOW INFO

Madison Theater

730 Madison Ave, Covington, KY 41011

Thursday, May 31, 2012

$15 advance, $20 day of show / 7 pm door, 8 pm show

www.madisontheateronline.com

On April 27, Galaxy CDs and Title Fight Productions played host to one of our favorite artists – Into It. Over It. (aka Evan Weiss).  Evan is one of the best storytellers we’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting and his gift for breaking down and explaining little bits of life is perfectly suited for his songwriting and performing profession.  Check out his 12 Towns album below and view all photos of the show after the jump.

On April 1, Hawthorne Heights kicked off their Stripped Down To The Bone tour at Galaxy CDs.  We’ve got pictures and videos from that night right here.  All Hawthorne Heights photos and video by Evan Prunty.  Belle Histoire, Yankee Go Home, and the Orphan the Poet photos by Jared Bowers and Lydia Pennington.  Mark Rose video by Joel Rospert.

Photos and video after the jump…

CINCINNATI– Music and skating are inevitably interlinked in my mind.  I remember a time when a class party at Castle Skateland inLoveland meant an afternoon of Barq’s red cream soda, Twizzler whips and a steady stream of ‘80s pop:  “Funky Cold Medina,” “Like a Prayer” or anything by Miss Paula Abdul.

Luckily, tonight’s skating party to benefit the Over-the-Rhine Recreation Center will feature hipper tones.  You, You’re Awesome and Automagik will play an adult skating party (yeah, you heard me right – go relive the magic of the wooden oval) at the rec center, 1715 Republic Street, Cincinnati, 45202, from8 – 11 pm.  A mere $5 gets you in the door, on the floor, rental skates and more!

OTR Skate tonight!

 The event will feature raffles for gift certificates from OTR businesses, as well as VIP passes for the Cincy Blues Fest and Bunbury Music Festival.

 AND.  A serendipitous and absolutely unrelated (but convenient) bonus:  it’s Final Friday!  Our friends over at Reveal Concepts will present Buffalo Killers, playing at the Segway dealership,1150 Vine Street (corner withCentral Parkway), for a Final Friday pre-party.  The all ages show begins at 6:00 pm.

 Go out and getch yer social on, Cincinnati!

CINCINNATI – It’s a suddenly chilly night in what has been an otherwise globally-warmed, ice cap-melting April. I’m wearing short sleeves outdoors at Cincinnati’s Heights Music Fesitval. I’m shivering through this one. I envy Black Owls lead singer David Butler’s leather jacket. It’s 120 miles to Columbus, it’s dark and he’s wearing aviators. Thank God they’re back in style.
The sound during the Owls’ set was a little muted. It was unfortunate – this combo can push. Maybe it was a function of the cold, or the outdoor venue, but ultimately it didn’t matter. The Owls were in good form and having fun. It was evident. And did I happen to see Butler giving his guitarist and songwriting collaborator Ed Shuttleworth a good ol’-fashioned, schoolyard wet willy?

“Yes, it was!” he beams. “I do that to fuck with him. He hates it when I do that. That was a proper wet willy. I’m really glad you caught that. I pretty much do it every show. If you’re not having fun, if you’re worried about how the sound is, if you’re worried about the monitors, you’re going to look like a bunch of debutantes, so don’t worry about it,” Butler says. “Just get up there and fucking go.”

Go the Owls did. The set kicked off with “Glorious in Black,” a stomper off last year’s release, June ’71. Butler’s curiously tremolo choruses were perfectly accentuated by the low blow punch laid down by new drummer Brian Kitzmiller (late of now-defunct Sparrow Bellows) and bassist Alan Beavers.

“How many of you guys have ever been in a relationship with another person?” Butler play-polled the audience. “This is a song about you. It’s poignant as fuck.”

He cavorted about the stage, between Beavers and second guitarist Brandon Losacker, swivelling, screeching and hooting like an anthropomorphic Strigiforme as they launched “She Was There,” the lead single-in-waiting from their upcoming album. The new album will be Kitzmiller’s and Losacker’s first with the band.

Black Owls’ first lineup congealed in 2007 in Granville, Ohio, a small college town east-northeast of Columbus, with Butler, Shuttleworth and Mike Brewer (formerly of Nancy – a progenitor band of The National). Brewer would later leave for Brooklyn; Beavers came on board for June ’71. Kitzmiller and Losacker, who pulls double-duty with Jody Stapleton and the Generals, have rounded out the lineup within the past few months.

“Originally I played drums and sang,” explains Butler. “It got to be too much and Brian approached us. I’m like, ‘Well, we could have a really, really good drummer and I could come up front,’ so that worked out. Brian’s drumming and Brandon’s playing guitar and keys for us, so we can capture the sound we have on our recordings, you know, live. It’s been pretty fantastic.”

“Brian and Brandon are from Cincinnati, and I’m from Columbus,” offers Beavers, “so we’re covering a lot of territory.”

“We’re a mutli-coastal band at this point. From the Mohican to the Scioto to the Ohio.” Butler smiles. “We have multiple practice locations, so depending on where we’re playing we can get together in different areas. We can come down here and practice in Cincinnati with these guys in their space.”

“I love driving to Granville,” says Kitzmiller, not facetiously.

“Black Owls are huge fans of Cincinnati. It’s really the city that’s made our band,” Butler asserts. It’s been the number one city for us. Even though we’re from very close to Columbus, we kind of quietly consider ourselves a Cincinnati band.”

Why might that be? I mean, I know. But I want to hear someone else say it for a change.

“I don’t want to say it’s a better –,” Butler hesitates. “Yeah, I do want to say it. It’s a better rock and roll town.”

“Much better,” nods Shuttleworth.

“Cohesive music town,” says Kitzmiller. “It’s a river town.”

“I think Cincinnati has a strong enough music scene to have a really good national or international record label. I think Cincinnati’s every bit as big a rock and roll town as Austin,” bids Butler. “I think it’s just poised to be even bigger.

Cincinnati was, after all, ground zero for King / Federal, the place where James Brown first stepped out with his Brand New Bag, one of the pristine musical tide pools where hillbilly and blues first coalesced into the primordial ooze of ’50s rock. But how can it reclaim its spot in the national pantheon?

“I think we’re on the way to doing that,” says Kitzmiller. “The National came out of here, now they’re in Brooklyn. The Heartless Bastards came out of here, now they’re in Austin. It’s a record label thing.”

“There’s Wussy, there’s the Sundresses,” agrees Shuttleworth. “There’s so many great bands coming out of Cincinnati.”
Kitzmiller: “It’s neat, because we’re all locking in.” He looks at Shuttleworth.

“That’s the other thing about Cincinnati that’s unique and fresh, is that the bands are very united as a front. There’s a really good sense of cameraderie, there’s not a lot of pretense.”

“It’s gotten better than in the ’80s,” asserts Kitzmiller. “In the ’80s, the bands were very competitive. Ohio’s got a lot of strength right now.”

“It’s got the blue collar roots and I think the people here have a really fine appreciation not for just good independent rock, but for all kinds of rock and roll,” Butler adds.

“Midpoint Music Festival has done a lot for that,” says Kitzmiller. “And now Bunbury coming up.”
But what about Granville? It is, after all, the home of acclaimed Denison University. Steve Carrell, Brian Unger, Woody Hayes . . . some talented people have called home that jewel of Ohio Amish country.

“There was that Olympic bobsled girl.” Shuttleworth looks over at Butler and raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah, I can’t think of her name.”

“She won silver.”

A big bobsledding town, Granville?

“Huge!,” exclaims Butler. “I moved there thinking it was a big luge town, but it turns out it was all bobsledding. I was misled.”

“Since you’re such a luger?” Kitzmiller asks him. I’ve talked to enough bands now that I’ve started to expect such from drummers. Crikey, I don’t know what I’ll do if ever I encounter a dour skins man.

“The biggest luger.” Butler grins.

We’re talking process now.

Butler and Shuttleworth handle primary songwriting duties in the band. The Owls’ next offering will be an eponymous double album, scheduled for release on June 8th, 2012, at an otherwise all-Cincinnati band barnstorm of Columbus’ Woodlands Tavern.

“I think [on] June ’71, the songs were related a little bit more,” says Shuttleworth. “I think the songs on this record are a little more eclectic and different.”

Butler: “They’re definitely looser in the pocket.”

Shuttleworth: “But they still hang together really well.”

“I don’t want to say [June '71] was a classic rock record, because it had flavors of the English punk movement in it, but this album is more wide open,” Butler rejoins.

“It’s more American, I think,” Shuttleworth says, and Butler affirms it.

“It is more American sounding, It has a Midwestern bent to it.”

“I think it’s more true to us.” Shuttleworth looks around the table, finds no dissent.

“We’re still finding our voice,” says Butler. “It’s where our heads are.”

“The way these guys write – they write twelve songs at a sitting, is what they do,” Beavers marvels. “It’s kind of incredible the next day. It’s like, ‘Listen to what we did!’ And I can only imagine how much beer was consumed. But you really can’t tell in the recordings. It just gets better and better.”

Butler nods. “It gets better the more we drink, for sure.”

“It’s unlike anyone else I’ve ever seen write,” says Beavers. “Most people are sitting down and tinkering with songs for months. They bring it to us – obviously we’re filling in the bass and drums and all that stuff, but they churn them out and it’s amazing.”

“Ed coined this phrase, ‘the Tyranny of the Original,’” Butler explains. “We would record these demos on an ambient mic and it was always us getting pissed because we couldn’t capture the same impetus.”

Shuttleworth: “It was always something about the recording or the way we performed it that we could never capture – a certain charm to it.”

“There was something about those shitty demos,” says Butler. “You want that energy and the weirdness of it. So we decided between June ’71 and the new double album, everytime we go in the studio, let’s hit record. Let’s record everything for real and then no harm, no foul if it’s no good – we just have a really, really nice demo that we can build off. If it’s something really cool, we can work off it. So the new album – almost half of it is literally the first take. It’s just us nailing this thing, knocking it out, and the vocals are the vocals as we were writing it.”
Butler is a graphic designer by day; he designed the Owls’ website. The visual influence shows.

“There’s a looseness to the way Ed structures his chords that’s kind of like the difference between doing a sketch and doing a painting. On the double album, there are final paitings that are, like, sixteen tracks of guitar, drums, vocals and backing vocals. And then there are sketches that are Ed and I just knocking shit out. But sometimes the perfect piece of art is the sketch. It’s just . . . that. When you come up with the idea, you sketch it, and you can’t go back and redraw that sketch. You capture the lines, and that’s it. I think fine art is the same as music that way. Some things really work well as just a sketch and some things work as a finished painting.”

“I think some of it imprints itself on us,” says Shuttleworth. “It’s the first version, so it has some kind of mystical element to it. There’s something charming about the first time you’ve played and hear it, it’s like, ‘Wow.’ It kind of becomes the version. I don’t know if it really is better than the next one.”

Butler: “You go with your gut.”

“But I won’t say that they’re the best songs on the record. There are songs where we’re all playing exceptionally good.” Shuttleworth gestures around the table. “It’s important to note what Brian, Alan and Brandon bring to the band, because they make the songs come alive.”

“It takes a lot of pressure off me and Ed,” says Butler. “What we need to do now is make sure we have everybody involved, and not just Ed and I. Because I think it’s going to be even better as we get these guys more involved. The problem is, Ed and I live next door to each other and we have a recording studio in his basement, so at 10:00 at night, I’ll get a text from Ed like, ‘Hey, I’ve got an idea,’ and I just walk over there. We’re not trying to exclude anybody; that’s just how the band started.”

Black Owls often seem to channel a Zep vibe; they ended their show tonight with a pedal-down cover of ”Bring It On Home.” I ask Butler if maybe they could all just move into some Bron-Yr-Aur analogue for the summer and write a record?

“That’s exactly what we need to do,” he beams. “We need to take the whole band and do that.”

“I’ll play on the staircase in the hallway,” Kitzmiller offers with a wry grin. What challenges did he find integrating into the Owls? Surely it can’t be easy learning two and a half albums of material and coming up with new drum parts on the fly?

“When I first started playing, I was given close to fifteen to twenty songs to learn in two weeks, which was pretty fun. It’s rock and roll, so it’s pretty straitforward, and I try to keep it that way,” he answers. “The biggest thing I did was get that 24″ kick drum to get that powerful sound.

“We’re getting to a point now where we all agree that we can have fun with this stuff too. So it just depends on the mood. If the fill works and Alan isn’t looking at me weird, then we’ve got something going. I could go into “Moby Dick” and Dave would just cream his pants.” Kitzmiller shakes his head and looks over to Beavers. “Just keeping it refined and keeping it to the song – simple but powerful.”

“I try not to overplay,” says the bassist. “Finger tapping. I’m laying down the root. I love locking in with Brian – he’s an awesome drummer. We try to keep basic and let Ed and Dave do their thing, really. It’s pretty simple.”

“I try not to double up anything he’s doing,” Losacker nods at Shuttleworth.

“This band needed two guitarists, because of the way the songs are recorded,” Beavers asserts. “You’ve got your riffs, but then you’ve got all the flavors, which really make the songs great.”

“I add the fluff,” Losacker says, taking a drink. The rest bust up laughing.

“Up until we got Brandon, we weren’t able to do that,” says Beavers. “It’s where we needed to be.”

“So far, Brandon’s doing a marvelous job of intuitively finding good counterpoint parts,” Shuttleworth praises. “He’s really good at knowing when to play, when not to play. That’s something I really admire. That’s the mark of a good player. It’s hard to please me, I’m really picky.” He looks at Losacker.

It’s now deep twilight, but the second guitarist is still hiding behind his mirrored sunglasses:
“I’m still trying to figure out what the hell he’s talking about.”

Black Owls are:

David Butler, Vocals / Lyricist
“I play a 58 microphone.”

Ed Shuttleworth, Guitar / Songwriter
Guitars:
“Tokai Les Paul and a Telecaster.”
Amp:
“It’s a replica of a ’68 Marshall 100-watt through Fane speakers.”
Butler: “What’s the head you have? It’s a Metropolis head, right?”
Shuttleworth: “It’s hand-built by George Metropolis in Michigan It’s really nice. I love it a lot. I don’t treat it well enough.”
Butler: “Ed’s a tone-junkie.”
Does it go one higher?
Shuttleworth, in perfect Spinal Tap accent: “It goes two higher. It gets louder than Dave.”
Butler: “It always gets louder than Dave. Much to Dave’s chagrin.”

Brandon Losacker, Guitar / Keys
“Gibson Les Paul and Flying V.”

Alan Beavers, Bass
“Blue sparkle Danelectro DanoBlaster ’90s reissue.”

Brian Kitzmiller, Drumkit
“Gretsch Catalina Birch with 24” kick drum, earth ride, 21” ride as a crash, another 16″ crash with a little crack in it, but it’s good, and a Pearl Masters snare. It’s six and a half inches deep, which is uncomfortable for me because it’s small. Zildjian.”

___

How to check them out:

Black Owls will release their self-titled third album on June 8, 2012, at Woodlands Tavern in Columbus, Ohio. They will also play the Bunbury Music Festival in Cincinnati on Sunday, July 15, 2012.

www.blackowls.com

Record Store Day 2012 has been a bumpy ride for me so far.  There was a lot of speculation at the start of it, and I found some “complete” lists online that got me excited for what turned out to be international releases that won’t be available at my local store.  Then I combed the official list and saw that there were still a decent number of titles that I’m going to seek out.

Each year there are a few titles I absolutely have to grab, and then several that I’ll get on a gamble.  The only must have this year is the Deerhoof/of Montreal split; it’s a Deerhoof instrumental with Kevin Barnes singing his lyrics.  I’m an of Montreal junkie, so that’s the first thing I’ll try to grab.  After that, there’s a few that I’ll go for but won’t be disappointed if I miss.  I really liked the Miles Davis 10″ from the Black Friday event because it sounds great and it looks beautiful, so I’m going to try for the Forever Miles 12″.  I’ll also check for the Arcade Fire remixes, but I’d rather have something unreleased from them, so that might be a record that I cut if the budget gets tight.  If I can find the STRFKR Heaven’s Youth release that will be great too.

I also like to gamble a little bit on RSD, especially with 45s, since the price is usually right and even if I’m not in love with the music at the end of it, I’ve got a pretty little collectable package.  I gambled with the Black Angels’s Another Nice Pair last year and it got played a lot.  I did the same with Yeasayer’s Endblood.  This year, I’m looking for the St. Vincent 7″, because I like what I’ve heard of her but don’t own anything.  There’s an M83 7″ that I’ll check out as well.  Jukebox the Ghost has a regional release that would be interesting to find, but I’m not hoping high since I don’t know where they’re releasing it.

In the complete gamble corner, there’s the Smuggler’s Way zine/flexi disc collection from Domino records.  It sounds like a cool package, with interesting art and 5 colored flexidiscs (those flimsy records that came packaged in magazines and cereal boxes before CDs were around).  The track from Real Estate I’ve heard could sell the whole thing for me.

Then there’s also the debut of Preteen Zenith, Tim DeLaughter‘s new band.  I liked his work with Tripping Daisy, and it sounds promising from what I’ve heard.

Friday, April 20

Salina Underground and Southpaw Prints (with support from The Lonely House) present

RECORD STORE DAY EVE
Brian Olive, with special guests The Sweep and The Chance Brothers (CD release)
Northside Tavern
4163 Hamilton Avenue, Cincinnati, OH  45223
8 pm door / 9 pm show
FREE, ages 21+

Saturday, April 21

CINCINNATI RECORD STORES

(in order of opening times)

Shake It Records
4156 Hamilton Avenue (45223)
Twitter:  @shakeitrecords
Open 9 am
Exclusive:  Wussy – Funeral Dress, Limited Edition LP
Bring canned good donations for Churches Active in Northside to receive 10% off purchases.
5 pm:  Bad Veins in-store (CD release)
7 pm:  Walk the Moon in-store

Everybody’s Records
6106 Montgomery Rd (45213)
Open 11 am
Gift certificate giveaways.
1 – 6 pm:  In-store appearances by Newport Secret Six, Jack Logan and the Midnight Riders, Strange Tunge, The Cla-Zels and Playfully Yours.

Mole’s Record Exchange
111 Calhoun St (45219)
Open 11:30 am

Another Part of the Forest
1333 Main St (45202)
Open 12:00 pm
No Record Store Day merchandise – used vinyl only.

HAMILTON

Galaxy CDs (no longer a record store)
Art & Music show – 6:00PM
Auto Defiance (of Nashville) and the Galaxy will be working together to raise money for a local charity, to be named soon. We will be featuring music, and art, this night to cap off all of your Record Store Day shopping!
Also on this show are Galaxy stalwarts Somebody’s Something! We’ll be featuring the art of the students from Options Academy, as well as from Christy Conrad! An end of Record Store Day party!

DAYTON

Omega Music
318 E 5^th St (45402)
Open 9 am
Local flavor:  Starving in the Belly of the Whale – “The Almond Tree” vinyl EP
Screenprinting demo by Basho.  $10 / $15 RSD exclusive t-shirts.
Will stay open until “whenever.”  The longer you shop, the longer they’ll keep the lights on.
12 – 10 pm:  In-stores by R. Ring, Buffalo Killers, Me and Mountains, M. Ross Perkins, Astrofang, Rebel Set, Mitch Mitchell’s Terrifying Experience (former guitarist for Guided by Voices), Raging Masons, Back Stabbath (tribute band) and Ruckus Roboticus.

LEXINGTON

CD Central
377 South Limestone St (40508)
Twitter:  @CDCentral
Open 10 am
Chance to win Forecastle tickets.
Taco truck serving lunch!
12 pm:  In-stores by Oh My Me, Those Crosstown Rivals, Joan Shelley and Satellite Giant

LOUISVILLE

Underground Sounds
2003 Highland Ave (40204)
Twitter:  @USoundsKY
Street party and in-store performances TBA.

If you have an event happening related to Record Store Day in the area and don’t see it listed here, email lonelyhousealicia[at]gmail.com to add it!

CINCINNATI — The boss looked at me quizzically.  “Why do you need off Saturday again?”

I was tempted to say shomer Shabbos.  I feel that strongly about it.  “Record Store Day,” I said.  “It’s basically a holiday.”

“Never heard of it.”  Her eyebrow arched.

“Obviously, you’re not a vinylhead.”

“But you wanted off Friday, too.”

“I know.  I have a show to go to that night.  That’s Record Store Day Eve.  It’s kind of like midnight Mass for rock and roll.”

“Uh huh.  You do want to keep working, right?”

“It only comes once a year.”  And it’s a full lineup for Record Store Day 2012.

This Friday, April 20, at Northside Tavern in Cincinnati, WVQC’s Salina Underground will host a free Record Store Day Eve rock showcase.  Brian Olive, formerly of The Greenehornes and Soledad Brothers, now solo indie groovemaster extraordinaire, will headline, with special guests The Sweep and The Chance Brothers.  The show kicks off at 9 pm and lasts until 2 am.

Following that, I’ll likely camp outside Shake It Records (conveniently located across the street from the venue) and wait for it to open up at 9 am on Saturday.  That is, if it’s not too cold.  Or raining.  Or I run out of hot coffee and s’mores schnapps.

My shopping list is long this year.  Shake It is releasing Wussy’s Funeral Dress for the first time on vinyl; the first 500 will be a limited-edition colored disc with download insert.  Yes, please.  Lisa Walker and Chuck Cleaver are, for my money, two of the most lyrically-gifted songwriters in rock today.  The chance to hear them in full-bodied analog is akin to offering me a Cuban cigar or 30-year single-malt; one just does not pass this up.

Like most people, I’ll be on the lookout for this year’s RSD Holy Grail:  Wilco’s “The Whole Love” LP box set.  Only 250 were pressed.  Lord knows if I’ll be able to snag one.  But I’ve cleared space on the old Plastic Budget Devil and it’s burning its twelve-digit imprint through my wallet and onto my ass.

Not as hot a commodity, but one I nonetheless covet:  Carolina Chocolate Drops and Run DMC’s 7” spilt of “You Be Illin’” on Coke bottle green vinyl.  They’re an outstanding piedmont archaic blues outfit; I can’t wait to hear the Drops slop some hip-hop.

The Knack’s Live in Los Angeles, 1978 10” red-and-yellow splatter plate will be mine, as will Phish’s Junta deluxe LP.

After my Shake It foray, I plan to egress to Everybody’s Records in Pleasant Ridge and spend some pennies; on Record Store Day, one should spread the love.  Cincinnati is blessed not only to have a vibrant scene for up-and-coming artists; we still have four independent record stores that nurture that scene.

Following Everybody’s (I have this mapped out on a legal pad, complete with cartoon margin drawings of my anticipated triumphs), I’ll get some fast food and coffee and book it 45 miles up to Omega Music in Dayton.  Buffalo Killers and R. Ring will be among 10 bands playing in-stores for RSD; I plan to pick up Starving in the Belly of the Whale’s vinyl EP release of music they contributed to the indie film The Almond Tree.

Then it’s back to Everybody’s for an in-store by The Cla-Zels at 4 pm.  More coffee, a quick stop in to Mole’s Record Exchange in Clifton, and back to Shake It for part one of Bad Veins’ release party for The Mess We’ve Made:  an in-store at 5 pm.  Walk the Moon plays at 7 pm; I’ll be snagging a copy of their “Anna Sun” 7”.

After:  the blow-out.  Bad Veins’ release party, part deux, at the Taft Theater.  Lightning Love and The Guitars will open the show, beginning at 8 pm, with DJ sets from You, You’re Awesome in between.  Worth the $18 door.

Sunday, I fully expect to be dead.  But.  Dead with some sweet tunes clutched tightly in my cold, stiff fingers.  It’ll be worth it.

by Jonathan Goolsby

DAYTON, OHIO – It’s an early evening at South Park Tavern.  Next table over is some sort of family birthday party.  Whoever the birthday girl is, she has an inordinately large number of grandparents – of the twenty or so attendees, the average age must be 64.  And I’m here for . . . a rock show?  Wait.  A CD release!  No way.

Yet that’s exactly what I’m here for.  This is The Minor Leagues‘ night and I’m ready for the opener.  North College Hill – the band’s long-awaited sixth album – is out and I can’t wait to hear them play it live.

Co-front Ben Walpole and his songwriting partner, guitarist Patrick Helmes, are the first to arrive.  We pull up a booth and wait for the band’s free pizza pie.  You would never picture the two of them in the same band; Walpole’s sandy shag cut and preppy outfit seem diametrically opposed to Helmes’ circa-1978 Iron Maiden basement show taper.  Not the co-founder I expect for a bright poppy, mutli-faceted twee combo.  I ask Helmes to stand and identify.

“Megadeth!”  He’s enthusiastic about it, too.  “Drive-By Truckers are my favorite band by far, and stuff in that same genre like Loose Arrow, Hold Steady.  But I like metal.  My closet love is death metal, like Dark Tranquility, In Flames, any of that stuff from the mid-Nineties is awesome.  It’s completely irrelevant to what we do,” he laughs.  “I don’t even think I’m capable of doing anything like that.”

Walpole chuckles.

“I grew up on Megadeth, Metallica, all that stuff, so somewhere down deep in my psyche of musical knowledge, that is the bass line.  I’d be surprised if Ben’s even heard ‘Symphony of Destruction,’ to be honest.”

Walpole shakes his head.  “I like melody.”

He traces his musical tree – it is tall and broad.  Those melodic roots are prominent:  Beatles, Spector pop and Motown, glam rock, punk, New Wave, Brit Pop.

“Anything along those lines – melody and a lyrical point of view, ” Walpole says.  “I don’t really like bands who sing songs that aren’t about things.  I like songs [with] storylines and characters.  There are so many musicians who are really good at playing guitar, but the odds that they’re also really good at writing poetry are low.  And so you get signed because you’re good at playing your instrument, but your lyrics will be terrible.  I think it’s a lot easier to fake good lyrics by just making a simple couplet that has an idea in it, instead of trying to be like Leonard Cohen or some kind of poet.”

He doesn’t consider himself a poet?

A nervous laugh:  “No.”

Favorite lyricists?

“I really like Ray Davies of the Kinks.”  I buy it – he has the skinny tie for it.  ”Jarvis Cocker of Pulp.  Stuart Murdoch of Belle and Sebastian.”

A dual-front, female-male call-and-answer band, that Belle.  And right on cue, we’re joined by Hilly Kenkel:  ice-eyed, platinum blonde co-front:  “There was a conflict with the band pizza that had to be sorted out.”

From Helmes:  “I can’t imagine anyone’s hearing us and saying, ‘Man, they sound like Belle and Sebastian,’ when they see our live show.”

“We have certain songs that sound like certain bands,” says Walpole.  “It’s either an advantage or a disadvantage over the years – we can sound like any number of bands from song to song.  Hopefully we at this point sound like us.  It adds up to a certain sound, but . . .”  He trails off.

Kenkel picks up the thread.  “I think there’s a common trend, too, that we get compared to a lot of bands that have male and female vocalists, like New Pornographers.”

“It’s always an honor if someone compares us to a band that is successful.”  Walpole’s laugh seems self-deprecating.  I call him on it.  The Minor Leagues are successful.  People go to see this band.  Shoot, I came fifty miles north tonight.  And with gas at $4.00 per, I’m making a serious financial commitment.

“Ben is pretty consistently self-deprecating, no matter what level of success he gets to,” Kenkel smiles and nudges him.

Walpole and Helmes share songwriting duties, but Walpole seems to take the lead as public relations officer.

“I would write the songs at home on my own, just with basic piano parts,” he says.  “But I had a lot of half-finished ideas on [North College Hill], so I’d demo it and Patrick shaped half the songs on the album into what they are, changing some rhythms or maybe changing some arrangement ideas.  We worked together to finish them, and then we’d bring it to the band, and everyone in the band would have input on the different parts.”

Does playing the songwriting that close to the vest cause any tension within the group at-large?  I look directly at Kenkel.

“The only problems we ever seem to have are with scheduling,” she says.  “There aren’t really problems with ideas too often.  The creative force is mostly Ben and Patrick and we’re all OK with that.  We get our little bits we can add, but there’s an understanding and that makes everything work pretty well.”

Meanwhile, bassist Jesse Rogers and second guitarist Luke McGlasson have arrived.  Drummer Matt Retherford is on stage, opening the show with his other project, House of Feeble Minds; I’ll catch him by e-mail.

“We all have very disparate musical tastes in this band,” offers McGlasson.  “It’s like a big Venn diagram.  There’s some overlap in the middle, but everybody is very different.”

“Some of us don’t even like the Beatles.”  Kenkel points back at him.

He laughs.  “That’s bullshit, I never said that.”

“This guy’s like, ‘The Beatles aren’t that good.’”

Never argue with a vocalist.  It’s a losing proposition.  McGlasson’s a smart guy.  I can tell.

“The relationships in the band are strong and that’s important, too.”  Rogers dives in.  “There was a period of about a year or so when we weren’t active.  I was going nuts.  There was no creativity in my life.  I wasn’t doing anything outside of my work.  It feels like we’re doing something long-lasting.  We’ve got all these albums we can show to people and be like, ‘Hey, I’ve done this.’”

So who gets our Minor Leaguers out of bed and onto the field?

“Pop music has been my favorite form of expression since I was a little kid, so it just seems like that was always the way I was gonna do it,” says Walpole.  ” Luke is a lot more into modern stuff.  I’ve always been way more into the ’60s and classic stuff.”

Like?

“The Kinks.  I think Patrick and Jesse are across the map.  Hilly DJs hip-hop and dance music. “

“I do, but I don’t listen to that all the time in my spare time,” Kenkel giggles.  “I lay in my room and listen to Pavement and stare at the ceiling.  We really are all over the map.”

“I went to a dance party last night and they played Hot Chip,” McGlasson says, “and that reminded me of Hilly.”

“Yes!  Hot Chip!”  She lights up.

“I was like, that’s the only other person who ever plays Hot Chip.”  I bite my bottom lip and fly under the radar.  Guilty.

“Yeah, Hot Chip, LCD Soundsystem.  Even when people criticize them for being too hipster-y or whatever, I defend them to the death.”  Kenkel is emphatic.

“I hate them,” Walpole smiles.

“Their songs are too long.”  McGlasson piles on.

“They’re not effing long!”  Kenkel spoke truth a moment ago:  she stands staunch.

“Rilo Kiley is probably my favorite band of all time,” McGlasson says.  “The Killers.  Oasis was the band when I was a kid.”

“My favorite band’s probably the Beach Boys,” adds Rogers.  “I got into them and it was all over.  I also like the Smithereens, and love Oasis, like Luke.  Just pop stuff, heavy pop.

Which Oasis album?

McGlasson:  “Definitely Maybe.”

Rogers:  “What’s the Story, Morning Glory?“

Begin band turmoil.  It’s like I rang an iron bell.  The conversation descends into a fratricidal melee.  Truly Gallagher-esque.

Walpole calls the meeting to order.  “I’m more of a Be Here Now guy.”

It’s sarcasm.  Thankfully.  I almost strangled him.  McGlasson and I are sympatico.

I ask Walpole about the new album.  It’s been a while since the last Minor Leagues offering.  Why the delay in production?

“I have a real love-hate relationship with it.  I’ll go through periods where I just can’t stand the thought of recording.  It just never turns out the way I want it to,” he laughs.  “Or I don’t have a sense of control.  I don’t know why it’s sounding the way it is.  So if things sound good, sometimes it feels like a happy accident, and if things sound bad we, you know, bang our heads against the wall for months.”

“We’re not technically audio engineers,” Helmes explains.  “We just poke at it until it sounds good to us.”

“Which can be really fun, but it can be kind of exhausting,” says Walpole.

***

“This last one took us a year of mixing, off and on.  We sat down and did a lot of arranging beforehand and then we took it to the rest of the band.  But everyone wrote their parts from what we envisioned.”  Helmes looks at his bandmate.  “The album’s about where Ben grew up.  That’s where the band formed.  I spent some time there too.  It’s just a small town that’s really fallen apart over the years.”

“It’s kind of a metaphor for our lives,” says Walpole, of the Cincinnati suburb / LP namesake.  “I still love it, but it’s just not what it used to be.  Even if it had gotten a lot nicer, it would still be sad to me personally because I just want it to be frozen exactly the way it was when I was a kid, so I could still feel like a kid.”

” It’s a very nostalgic album,” says Helmes.

North College Hill is certainly that.  “City on a Hill” opens with noise pollution – jackhammers, cars and the like – punctuated by bright, driving guitar and a regular electro-drop crosswalk blip, like some wistful sonar scan back into the depths of the Eighties.  The last track, “You Can’t Go Home,” ends on the same sound scape.  In between?  “1985 Forever.”  I’m down the synaesthetic time hole, living in a two-story split-level with window AC units and a wrought-iron bannister.  Walpole, Helmes and I lived this.  And I confess to sharing, in my own time, the same sentiment Walpole has effortlessly committed to lyric:

Dust off the ghost maps / so we can trace back where this town went off the rails / read back the ghost maps / so we can figure out what the hell went wrong.

I note the Rust Belt theme.

“I think it’s happening a lot of places in Cincinnati.” Walpole shakes his head.  “I think it’s happening in a lot of places in the country, really.  Infrastructure’s falling apart, things aren’t being replaced, things don’t look as nice as they did when we were kids.”

You can’t go home / there is no home / you have no home / you can’t go.

It’s a pressing, if common, post-Challenger lament.  I wonder if such feelings are a pitfall for every generation?  Or maybe America really is going to hell in a Hummer?

I’m a late-model Gen X-er.  I share Walpole’s anxiety.  At some point we pass from youth to not-youth.  And it is scary.  It’s metamodernistic.  An epidemic.

It’s the same reason vinyl has made a resurgence even as demand for instant digital downloads explodes, why hipsters learn how to knit Nintendo controller covers and churn goat milk butter, then sell their wares on Etsy.  It’s why rebuilding bridges, reducing household debt and reclaiming jobs seem so much more important (politicians, take note) this election year than do bearded Middle Eastern phantasms going boom in the night.

It’s why aviator sunglasses are so in this year.  Talk to me, Goose.  Speak comfort.

No one can afford a car / but that’s all right it’s not that far / I’ve walked every block, every inch / side streets, alleyways and more / fast food and convenience stores / gas station breakfasts on the bus stop bench.

“It’s kind of somber, maybe?”  Walpole asks it.  He’s really posing a question.  I don’t think he’s anymore sure about his own work than anyone is about how to slow Western entropy.  ”More somber than our other material, which tends to be more uptempo and kind of spastic, I think.  This is a little bit more reflective.  The whole lyrical idea is looking back on your childhood and trying to make sense of it and being kind of sad that you’re getting older and that your hometown is changing, so you’re disconnected spiritually and physically.”

Quarter-life crisis?  The band laughs.

“Maybe a third-life crisis.”  Walpole is sheepish.  ” Actually that’s our next album.”

Which is already recorded, by the way,” interjects Kenkel.

“Yeah, we’re close to being able to release it.”

“We’re trying to break some records in releasing albums very quickly,” she smiles wryly.

“Well it took us six years to release the last three albums,” grins Walpole.  “We’re gonna try to speed up the process.”

***

The Minor Leagues are recording in major places.

“We’ve spent a lot of time in Nashville,” says Kenkel.

“Our friend works at a studio down there called the Butcher Shoppe,” Walpole explains.  “It’s actually owned by –”

“John Prine and David Ferguson,” says McGlasson.  John Prine.  The John Prine.  And David Ferguson.  He engineered a few recordings for a guy you might have heard of:  Johnny Cash?

Yeah.  Those guys.  Major.

“We’ve been working with him the last two albums,” says Walpole.

I ask him if it’s true that he once mistook John Prine for the janitor.  (I have my sources.)

“No, I don’t know what that’s about.”

Kenkel guffaws.

“He came in and he was just so unassuming.”  Walpole pleads.  “I thought he would carry himself with a little bit more of an ego.  He was, like, asking to help clean up stuff for us.”

“And he apologized to Ben for interrupting him,” Kenkel says.

“He was talking about cleaning, so I just thought, well, there’s no way this is John Prine.”

“You don’t recognize him?” McGlasson needles.

“I hope John Prine doesn’t see this and hate us.”  Walpole smiles.

“‘YOU’RE NEVER RECORDING HERE AGAIN!’”  McGlasson points menacingly.

***

It’s almost showtime.  House of Feeble Minds has finished up.  The mid card is on.

“What keeps us going is the response that we do get.  We wouldn’t want to do this in a vacuum,” Walpole proffers. ” You want to make connections.  You’re not making music just for yourself to listen to.”  He smiles in that self-deprecating manner again.

“I don’t just want to be famous in Cincinnati.  I want everyone in the world to be singing our songs, like ‘Hey Jude.’”

Kenkel bursts into laughter.  Christ, she even snorts.

“What?”

“I must have missed something there.  I thought he said he wanted everyone to be singing our songs like ‘Hey, Dude.’”

“That’s our new goal!” Walpole shouts.  Nostalgia and enthusiasm.  I like it.

“Actually that would be quite a level of achievement, if we had a Nickelodeon show,” McGlasson agrees.

“I think that Cincinnati – and this region in general – people don’t realize how good it actually is here,” says Helmes. “A lot of other cities don’t have quite as good a music scene as we do here.  Obviously, there’ve been quite a few successful bands from the area lately.  It’s good to see.”

“It’s a very embracing attitude toward bands,” Kenkel agrees.  “People really want the bands to succeed.  It’s a pretty agonizing thing to perform stuff you write.  You gotta be able to either brush stuff off or feel pretty good about yourself.  Both I guess.”  She laughs.  “We’re also a little bit on the weird side, I think.”

“We’re a bunch of weird people hanging out together,” says McGlasson.

Kenkel:  “I think that’s better than sounding like everyone else,  It just means that people don’t know what to think about us right away.”

McGlasson:  “People don’t look at us like, ‘Oh man, those guys are super-cool.  I could never talk to them.’”

“It gives you a reason to wake up.” Kenkel asserts.  “Going to work sucks.  Eating sucks.  Sleeping sucks.”

“I don’t want to do anything else,” says McGlasson.

“Beats farming.”  Rogers.  Leave it to the bassist to deadpan.

***

Addendum.

I  don’t owe Matt Retherford anything.  But as an ex-drummer, I confess a certain solidarity with the faceless guy behind the kick drum.  And truth be told. he missed the interview in the line of duty.  So, sure, I’ll give him a column inch.

In the intervening time, big Minor Leagues news.  They’ll be playing Bunbury.

Follows our e-mail exchange:

JG:  What do you think North College Hill is about?  What does it say about where you are as a band and where you’re going?
MR:  “To me, North College Hill is a reflection and transition. It’s kind of analyzing the nostalgia that a certain place or time in your life represents, whether it be a good or bad time, sticking it into your back pocket, and knowing it’s there, but walking on.  The tune “Home” ends the album with the revelation that you can’t go home. But in a hopeful way.”

JG:  Who personally influences you?  How do your musical influences show up in your playing, and how do they integrate with / differ from your bandmates’ tastes?
MR:  “I’m influenced personally by (a shortlist for how I play with TML):  John Bonham [Led Zeppelin] and Bill Berry (from REM).  And the great thing about TML is that between us, there are a lot of influences happening.  As a drummer, I listen to the rest of the band’s groove.  If Ben and Hilly are doing a kind of doo-woppy thing, I try to be cathedral big and simple.  If Patrick and Luke are ripping shit up, I can open up and give them room.  And when Jesse lays down the bassline from ‘Nuthin’ but a G Thang’, I know it’s time to break ‘em off somethin’ funky.

JG:  Why do you do this?  What motivates you?
MR:  “Aside from the cold hard cash flowing endlessly into my bank account?  (Ha.) There’s just something magical about the bout of jitters that comes with playing songs for people.  You know, wondering if the crowd will like it, wondering if they’re having as much fun as I am. And if people feel good enough to dance, it’s hard to not feel like you’ve connected with them.”

JG:  Anything coming up that you’re particularly excited about?
MR:  “Baseball season.  And I have to say I’m excited about Bunbury.  To have something like that in Cincinnati to bring all sorts of different tastes together, and to even be a part of it, is exciting.”

JG:  What kind of drumkit do you play?  Why?  Describe it.
MR:  “I play a DW kit with a beautiful Broken Glass finish.  First, it sounds amazing (when people other than myself play it).  But it’s shiny.  It’s pretty.  When I got it, I had to answer this question:  ‘Am I really a silvery, sparkly kind of guy?’  I try and answer that question every time I play it.”

Typically Mixtapes playing a show in Covington, KY is nothing new. After all, Cincinnati/Covington is their home turf. Except they aren’t always coming through on a national tour with Hit the Lights, Cartel, and Set Your Goals. That was the case on April 5 at the Madison Theater.

After local act Car Rides and tour mates Super Prime finished, it was time for Mixtapes to take the stage. They tore through favorites like “Orange Yellow” and played a new song from their upcoming album on No Sleep Records called “Russian House DJ.” This was the best I’ve ever heard the band sound. They were tight, the drums were huge, and everyone in the crowd seemed to have a great time.

Check out full-size photos from the set after the jump and be sure to come see Mixtapes when the invade Galaxy CDs on April 27th with Into It. Over It. and on May 4th with Xerxes.