We took a seriously long hiatus, and that is absolutely unforgivable. If that’s any consolation, we’re bringing you one big interview, more reviews, a concert reviews, cupcakes, and more transatlantic awkward editing.
What happened to us at the end of 2010? Well, K moved to Brooklyn, Celeste made more cupcakes and left her beloved apartment; but as you can imagine, there is a soundtrack to all of that, and we’re going to let you know all about it.
Watch this space for upcoming links on what we’re going to publish. Thanks for sticking around – you won’t be disappointed… Here’s to healing your hungover. Happy New Year!
Oh, we’ve been gone for a while, haven’t we? We’ve got a tiny little tan to prove it but mostly, we’ve been indoors listening to records and baking cupcakes. This is what happens when one gets old. Overcrowded beaches no longer do it.
We’ve decided to take a tiny break from the lovely streets of Brooklyn to concentrate on what we see from our bedroom windows – Paris and its Eiffel Tower, Paris and its croissants, Paris and its not-so-emerging music scene. Trying to grow up next to London is bound to create some long-lasting childhood trauma, but thankfully Paris has been blessed with caring godmothers who touched its head with their sparkly wands and made bands happen. We’ve talked to Nico Prat, a resident DJ, a VoxPop journalist and Call Me Señor’s manager, to discuss the how’s, when’s, why’s and where’s Paris happened, happens, and is likely to happen in the near future. Little did we know we would end up with such knowledge.
Upcoming are Janelle Monaé, Plan B, The Avett Brothers, The Black Keys, and tour schedules for the fall… do you need help with that lotion?
The only thing that worked in 2009 was music. From Kanye West creating unprecedented drama at the MTV Awards to the release of unexpected solo albums, the year that rode on waves of economic crisis, unemployment, wars in Afghanistan and the return of covert racism has been effectively lifted by good melodies. As Q Magazine contributor John Harris once said, “the climate might suck, but music is finally good again”.
It is amidst one of the coldest winters since the early 80s that we are bringing you allthegoodshit.com, another music blog, another opinion-based music platform, another place where people are telling you who to listen to, should you ever get confused. The difference? We’re all over the place, all the time, and cover just about anything, as long as it’s good shit. We’re not saying it objectively is good shit; we’re just saying it works for us, tickles us, makes us dance on tables, ups our tabs at the local bars, and somehow empties our pockets of cash after plane tickets and train tickets. Basically, it’s improving our mental well-being. We’re just sharing the good shit we’ve loved in these dire times.
For the first edition of allthegoodshit.com, we’ve prepared lists. We’re anal, and it’s that time of the year. From all our contributors around the world, you get to check what’s been done in 2009 that you may have overlooked, or may not even have heard of at all; you get to see what’s going to happen in 2010, from the upcoming record launches to the upcoming interviews. We started on a very high ground with comedian John Knefel, who tells us there’s a future beyond punk bands, and with a pictorial of Americana cult figure Langhorne Slim, who plays guitar while rolling himself on the floor (don’t try this at home). We found a hero in Frank Turner, and possible role models in Frightened Rabbit. In case you think this isn’t enough, we have more up our sleeves for the months ahead, from Jamie T to The Long Blondes’ Kate Jackson, and some underground acts from all over the world, so stay tuned.
This website is nothing more than a collaboration of great minds and funny people. Learn all about them in the contributor section, and don’t hesitate to give some feedback. We would also not even exist if it weren’t for our sister sites Deaf Left Ear from New Jersey or What’s The Ruckus from Colorado. If you haven’t heard of them, it’s time to start. We are all about expanding horizons and stretching silver linings. As Frank Turner said, “if music was the food of love, then I’d be a fat romantic slob”. Feel free to grab the last cupcake, we’ll make another batch to go with the next editorial.
Any question you want to ask? Any topic you want to cover? Feel like you could be a pretty decent guest contributor? Have pictures to submit? Email us. Do you have an amazing apple pie recipe you want to share? Contact us. If it’s good, we’ll take it. In the meantime, listen, watch, read, hear, think, and more importantly, enjoy. It’s a bumpy ride, but you won’t even notice the turbulences as long as you have your earphones firmly secured.
It’s already the second month of the new decade, and it promises to be extremely eventful. Check out the news from the people we have featured, might be featured, or will never feature…
- A new episode of John & Molly get along, featuring John Knefel, is out now. Ted Alexandro sings The Carpenters, Molly Knefel wears an eye patch, and we find out that John’s mother was one hell of a party-goer. Because John is not just a party child, I am going to link to what I think is one of his best True/Slant pieces to date.
- Mark your calendars, Frank Turner is releasing a live DVD on March 22nd. Watch the trailer. Frank has also been live-tweeting the Grammy’s with his friend Chris, starting a new drinking game and ending up weeping for the future of music. Tweets include: “Taylor Swift also just thanked her record label for *letting her* write every song on her album. I’m literally about to gouge my eyes out” and the hilarious “Miley Cyrus scares the shit out of me. She’s like a demon child” (We couldn’t agree more!). For more Jagerbomb-fueled criticism in 140 characters or less, add Frank on Twitter.
- One of our favorite bands, Frightened Rabbit, is releasing their third album, “Swim until you can’t see land,” in three weeks. We could not be more excited. Here is the video for the new single, “Nothing like you,” The beautiful first song that gave its title to the album can be found here.
- Howard Zinn died last Wednesday. Citizen Radio pays a tribute by re-airing the interview the American hero gave them a couple of months before his death. Listen to it here. We are also happy to announce their NYC live show at the UCB theater on February 8th is now sold out! Congratulations!
Valentine’s Day is just 24 hours away kids, and we have something special in store for you, but in the meantime, we have some interesting news…
[*] The Strokes have not just unveiled a new logo (designed by Warren Fu), they are also sharing the day-to-day activities pertaining to the recording of their new album, which should be released some time this year. The first video is narrated by Sir Richard Priest and features a product placement deal by Home Depot.
[*] Our friends from Soft Spot have also released their first video for “Half A House”, that we are more than happy to premiere: watch it here, and let us know what you think!
[*] Jamie Foxx introduces the new version of “We are the world”, recorded as a fundraiser for Haiti. Watch the video here. Also part of the artists’ efforts to raise money and awareness on the disaster, Tegan & Sara helped raised $20,000 through a poster auction to benefit Doctors Without Borders; the Canadian government matched their contribution for a total of $40,000. Don’t hesitate to participate and visit the Doctors Without Borders website.
We could not be more excited about this month. We Parisians now celebrate the arrival of spring – birds are twittering in the trees as I type this – days are getting longer, and album releases are getting better. Spring and summer fashion is now in the shops, and you can raise a happy glass to the end of winter, if you’re not stuck under the East Coast’ snowpocalypse, that is. If so, here’s something to warm you up!
[**] What we have been waiting for the longest: the new Frightened Rabbit is now in stores and on iTunes. We’ve reviewed The Winter of Mixed Drinks for you, and there are not enough superlatives to convey how great the album is. Ellie Goulding is also releasing her debut album, fresh from accepting her Brit Awards’ Critics Choice statuette. Laura Marling and personal darlings Black Rebel Motorcycle Club are soon to come.
[**] Glastonbury may have entirely sold out (sadface!) but other festivals are slowly revealing their line-up: Oxegen, T in the Park and Bonaroo are the big contenders for 2010. Only rumors are floating around Reading & Leeds, with only Blink-182 apparently confirmed. Tickets go on sale this month, snatch them before they all go!
[**] One of our favorite comedians, Elon James White (whose baby “This Week in Blackness” can be checked out from our sidebar) loves brunching, the concept of brunch, brunch food, and people who brunch; he loves this all so much, he first trended #webrunchhard on Twitter, and decided it needed a permanent location on the intrawebz. Because it is more than a meal, it’s an entire lifestyle, it needed its own anthem as well. Here’s the We Brunch Hard video, the only, original, hardcore, gangsta one. Quiche or spinach wrap?
Happy May Day, and welcome to Brooklyn! As a tribute to The National’s new release, High Violet, we decided to dedicate this month to Brooklyn on All The Good Shit. The rapidly rising New York City borough, that is also called home by yours truly, is one of the most inspiring places ever found this side of the hemisphere. It seems only right that we highlight its brightest moments, coolest places, and best bands. Starting from today, discover Private Income and their lead singer, Kelly Rae Kerwin; read more about The National, find out what makes a Soft Spot video special enough for MTV to put it on rotation, and much, much more about the place that cradled the Beastie Boys.
From the over hyped streets of Williamsburg to the timeless boardwalk of Coney Island, we will take you to the neighborhoods, the venues, the stores, the places to be in, the places to brunch, and the places to potentially discover what New York has best to offer. Move over Manhattan, your Lou Reed days are gone.
In other news, because we would not want to be too New York-centered…
Wow, it’s almost summer already. You wouldn’t know judging by the rain pounding on my window as I type this, but in some parts of the world, June is commonly considered summer, and we will be the first ones to celebrate the solstice like we should! It’s not Christmas, and it’s not the first blossoms of Spring anymore, but June 2010 happens to be a very important month for album releases. We have secured reviews of Hole, LCD Soundsystem, Band of Horses, Jesse Malin, Gogol Bordello, The Dead Weather, Karen Elson, and many more - so you know’ll what to bring along to your desert island while drinking rum from a coconut. While we’re still in fantasy land, our favorite sex correspondent Britany has compiled a list of the Most Bonable Musicians for you – and don’t go thinking Neil Diamond has nothing left to offer.
We also have several new contributors, who will all appear in the flush of their youth with challenging pieces: Ryan is starting on a serious note by urging you to support journalist Allison Kilkenny, a major inspiration for us all; Shanden went through the plight of a beautiful and kinky burlesque concert, she interviews Enjoy The Zoo!; and Josh will check in with a report on his trip down Nashville’s lanes. More photos will come from London’s Hard Rock Calling festival, so stay tuned for more add-ons, more features, to guide through the lazy hazy crazy days of the coming summer.
Patrick Bower @ Pete's Candy Shop copyright Brooklyn Vegan
We’ve made no secret of our attachment to New York City. One of the perks of holding a transatlantic blog is getting to ask questions about how location affects creativity, and specifically music writing, touring, and the longing for home. Patrick Bower, who has been living in Brooklyn for eight years now, discusses the pros and cons of living in The City That Never Sleeps, the City of Blinding Lights. And it’s magical.
Your move to New York – was it a musically motivated decision or was it just a drive to go live to New York City?
A little bit of both. At the time I was actually married. I said “let’s go to New York; I’m very unhappy here” (in Indiana). I had a band there, and we did okay. We used to open for big bands like Yo La Tengo, My Morning Jacket, and it’s a lot of fun, cause you’re a big fish in a little pond. You get paid a hundred bucks to do it and nobody cares who’s opening for these bands. I was tired of this, I saw its glass ceiling. My marriage lasted about a year. Deep down it was about music, but I was moving a family in the process, so it was more complicated than that. I was touring with my old band, The Nods we were called, I had plans to move to New York but I hadn’t put anything in place yet. We had just played Philadelphia, we were about to play New York, at the Cake Shop, something like that. Our van caught on fire on the highway, smoke poured out of it. Everyone kind of freaked out and dispersed, hitched a ride back to Indiana. I was sort of left there, so I stored the equipment, put the van on the side of the road, picked my guitar at the back, and moved to Greenpoint where I had some friends. I took the train and said, “Hey, I’m here, let’s start this.” I got a job in three days at a coffee shop on Bedford Ave, and I eventually got back and moved the rest.
Do you feel like this is something that bands have to do, go coastal? Or could you pull a Josh Ritter and be fine with being from Idaho? I mean, Prince comes from Minneapolis.
He seems to be pretty happy there! But what does he know, he lives in outer space. I think there is a huge sense that bands are missing out on something, even if they have a cool local scene, like in Oklahoma, but you’re still missing out on something.
But when you think about it, the two most interesting festivals in the US are SxSW and ACL, and they’re in Texas.
In Texas, yeah, small towns, and it might as well be Indiana. My friend Chris Swanson is the president of Secretly Canadian, those guys are a huge influence, in their attitude and their belief in DIY music. Now they’re rich, they’re big indie. It’s great, I’m so happy for them. As a matter of fact one of their first signings, Dave Fischoff, is now my neighbor in Brooklyn. We’re collaborating on some stuff. They’re doing amazing things in Bloomington, IN: turning out records by Anthony and the Johnsons, and people who may not live there but the machinery is there. You know, bands like Magnolia Electric Company, they’re doing very well. So small bands, small town, the thing is if you don’t get signed by that one label, that’s it, there’s no other industry to speak of to bounce back on. So you pretty much have to go where the business is.
Park Slope
Because rock’n'roll is so urban the tri-state area is basically drawing all the attention to itself, especially with DC having spawned such a brilliant punk scene. New York will always be New York, but recently Gothamist came up with this analysis of whether New York was still New York, with the Lower East Side becoming too glossy. Do you think it’s lost it?
The answer is yes and no. Yes it has, but no, because it’s just not in Manhattan anymore. The centers have shifted you know. It’s cool that y’all have a nostalgia with the Lower East Side, and I do too, that was a fun place to be for a while. The center of the music scene is north by Greenpoint and Williamsburg. Some of the greatest venues are there and in Park Slope, with the Bell House, Little Fields, the Rock Shop, it’s great, Peter Bjorn and John just played there. That’s where most of the low-key bands are now. The National live in Prospect Heights.
There are plenty of other cities that could claim to be Music City now. I mean look at Nashville – you have a record company on every corner.
I’ve always wanted to go. Let’s go. Do you have a car?
I can’t drive here, my European license isn’t valid.
My license lapsed!
We have to find a car.
Johnny Lamb, my driver, he has one. He has a car.
Mostly rock’n'roll belongs to the South. Elvis belongs to Tennessee, Hank Williams belongs to Alabama. The rhythm’n'blues has nothing to do with the coasts. It came to the coasts because people wanted it to be urban – but I’m fascinated by the origins of rock’n'roll and how tied it is to southern history.
You can still be a 20 years old musician and come here and make it to the city, that’s the thing. Sleep with five other people in a loft apartment. When you’re 20 years old, you don’t mind. You can take those wait tables and tend bars. I’m constantly fascinated by New York City, I never get over it. My daughter doesn’t think twice about it. New York City is a great place to raise a kid. So much at your fingertips. I only knew one black person until I went to college. He was my token black friend. He wasn’t even a friend, just someone I knew. I was so impressed that it was someone I knew. My daughter, she’s the only white kid in her school. And she’s totally thriving and doesn’t even understand that it’s different from Indiana.
Do you buy into the fact that New York City is often referred to as “a poor man’s Europe”?
No, because I think it’s completely different. The disillusionment just happens whenever my bank account gets too low. I wanted to come to NYC because of Lou Reed, because of The Walkmen, Bob Dylan, and Woody Allen! I grew up on Woody Allen and all his images of New York, so I come here, and so much was prohibited from me, I realized that right away. I had to sort of adjust.
Do you think New York is the Sin City to your religious background?
Oh yeah. I came here, started doing tons of drugs. I was doing all the things my parents didn’t want me to do. It’s so easy. I could do anything. It was totally that. People always say there is a death element to a life, or to a music scene. There’s something for everybody, all of the time. I used to go to all of these places that you could have afters at, you know, that are open until noon the next day. It’s never going to die. On the other hand, you lose a lot, and people are more privileged than others here, and everything is expanding. You’re in Bushwick, right? So you’re close to the center of New York. You’re close to everything. I live in a no-place right now. Clinton Hill is a no-place. It has no kind of character. I like it a lot, actually. It’s a place to be at peace.
Do you believe that if you make it to New York, you can make it anywhere?
I do believe in it, yeah. And I think that if you know New York well enough, you become part of it. Since I’ve been here I’ve gone to many places in the world and I’m very comfortable, because I feel I’m so integrated into the culture of New York, that people get me, culturally. Whereas if I’m from some place like in the middle of the country, people can’t relate. It’s also about the survival techniques that we’ve acquired, coming here. People with different accents, different ideas about life – you have to be able to deal with them too.
Do you consider yourself a New Yorker now?
After eight years, I feel I’ve earned it. Technically it’s nine – someone told me that it’s after nine years that you get to call yourself a New Yorker and you get to start complaining about New York.
Patrick Bower is atypical. He’s doesn’t hail from London, but from the great wide plains of Indiana; he did not meet his band mates at a posh boarding school, but in Greenpoint; and his story-telling abilities are a true testament to his talent as a songwriter. This interview took place in a dimly lit Mexican restaurant in Brooklyn, NY, where we hope to meet with him again. In the first part of this interview, Patrick discusses his beginnings in a state that is hard to put on a map, his love for music, and what musical magic represents to him.
This concept of a world without any magic, creatively and musically speaking, tell us more about it.
I came to New York City in 2002 and was looking to start over (I’m from Indiana, originally). I came here and it was really tough, you know. I met some people I’m still very close to and we started doing music very early on. I got a sense of dread about the future, I had no idea what was going to happen. I thought about starting a new band, and my friend, who was having a harder time than I was (he was teaching English in South Korea), did it for five years, so I asked him about band names, he handed me a list, and at the top of the list was The World Without Magic. I think it’s sad, the idea, I hope it’s a little funny. I hope people will get the humor. A lot of our songs are really dark and serious, but I hope the humor comes through at times.
The first thing I thought about was the “Spoonful of Lightning Song”, Do you believe in magic. It became even clearer in my head when I saw the video, which was stunning. There is a complete universe being brought to life, the song has such a clear narrative. Is there a bit of unexplained magic in the way you approach your work, instead of focusing on the side of songwriting that can be very technical at times?
The process must be magic ’cause it surprises me every time. I get up in the morning, I write. Actually when I first met Nico, he interviewed me, the title of the article was “coffee is the most important drug to the creative process”. It’s true, I get up in the morning, I drink coffee. I’m always working. When something happens, comes together, it’s really beyond me. A lot of artists would feel that way, you know, you have to put the time in and have all of those things at your disposal. That’s a little bit why the name of the band is a little interesting that way.
It’s interesting, most artists would like to chill, have a few drinks before they write or even go onstage; but you pick the one drug that actually sets your brain into motion. Is it a need to be pro-active?
Must be my working class background, you know, cause I look at it as some kind of job. My normal state is also so depressed that I normally need caffeine to push me through.
Otherwise you would just write an album that could be recorded by The Smiths?
Exactly. At half-speed. Wrist-slitting shit. My friend Elisa and her boyfriend Scott Cummins directed the video and did such a good job. They just came back from Sundance, and she got the flu. Like everybody in New York right now I think. Her debut film was accepted at Sundance, and her second film was our video and she did such an amazing job. I came up with the concept, but they’ve definitely fleshed it out, and we spent a long time interviewing the actors. We did a fun casting with different kids. Lamar is the blonde kid, he’s from Slovenia, he’s here to be a model, he’s got the look and the vibe. CJ was the other kid. The subtext of the whole video is that they’re in a relationship, innocent but also a homosexual relationship, and they were totally cool with it. And they’re twelve, you know, it says a lot of good things about their parents.
You’ve mentioned your working-class background and coming from Indiana. It’s very rural, it’s mostly corn fields, it’s not a traditional rock’n'roll city like Seattle, Portland or New York. How did it come about?
I come from a blank slate. It could kind of best be compared to the weather there, which is always white or gray. The skies are always white or gray. Flat, with trees, beautiful nature, it’s very bleak and sad. I realized something was a little wrong with my environment when I was really young, so I started reading a lot of books. I buried myself in books. I was also home schooled. I didn’t go to school from third grade until college. I was able to get my school work done early then doing stuff I cared about – writing short stories, playing guitar.
So your parents were perfectly fine with you taking the time to develop an artistic side, was it the reason they home schooled you?
No, they home schooled me cause the public schools were really bad, and they didn’t have enough money to send me to a private school. There is definitely a religious side to it as well, which I don’t follow anymore, didn’t really even when I was really young.
What were the books that you were reading, that influenced you, made you want to pick up a guitar?
The early, early books I read really did it. Like The Chronicles of Narnia, when I was 7. Tolkien, like that. I was listening to rap when I was older, then I played guitar. I remember, I had a MC Hammer tape. I had the big pants, you know, and we would go down, go to roller skater parties. I looked terrible. When you come from such a bleak place and you suddenly hear that very authoritative music, it does something for you. Cause rap is all about identity. Not to mention the fact that of course, in our lifetime, it’s been the most innovative music. It touched everybody. It’s about self-actualization, so it did help. But I wasn’t listening to the cool rap, you know, no Public Enemy, no NWA.
So, you picked up the guitar, and what would you play?
My dad was a singer in a band, but it was a Christian band, so I grew up around his music. Some of the most mellow stuff, my dad’s from LA. Lots of CCR. My dad was the dude from The Big Lebowski, without the weed.
Did you play by ear? Did you have guitar lessons?
My dad taught me a few chords, I had a few guitar lessons, really I was just too stubborn so I thought I’d invent. I thought everything I came up with was brand new. I thought I would invent a Nirvana song. Nirvana was… I guess I was 16 when Kurt Cobain died, that affected me a lot.
I remember the day my brother brought Bleach home. I can pinpoint this moment as being the one when I seriously got into music. Back home in Indiana, listening to rap, how did grunge come into play? How big was it for you?
It was huge. That was the real counter culture of my lifetime, it was this massive force. Nothing has happened since then that had the same level of influence. Within a year, it was ubiquitous. Everybody was listening to the same song. “Smells Like Teen Spirit” was an anthem. It couldn’t last forever, but essentially this one song. “Rape Me”, “Heart-Shaped Box”.
Artists of our generation always refer to Kurt Cobain as being the one who made them want to go into music, but who made you want to go to New York? Is there one specific artist that led you here?
Actually, yes, and it’s Lou Reed. I saw Lou Reed the other day, we were at the same movie at the Anjelica Film Center. Of course I wanted to say something to him, but he looked so old and mean.
Remember when Kurt Cobain covered Bowie? When Nirvana does MTV, first of all, counter culture becomes mainstream in a way, and they cover this monument of music, and it’s “The man who sold the world”, this extremely sad song. Do you have this punk rock ideology that the mid-70s were the dawn of a new era, or do you believe in a continuity?
I think it’s very disingenuous in a lot of cases, and this is a great example, cause I think Kurt Cobain wanted to be seen in the continuity of artists, and helped their friends out, a very punk rock thing too, and also said he could do Bowie better. To me the Cobain version is even better than the original. It’s the best version I’ve ever heard, as far as I’m concerned.
Even to this day, even after punk rock and “the Beatlemania biting the dust”, most people still refer to Reed and Bowie as the founders of rock’n'roll and the mainline influence. Do you feel that way too or are you comfortable referring to more contemporary artists?
I’m comfortable with both. I try to be a fan of music, even if I’m an artist, cause it’s easy to stay in your own head and isolate yourself, I try to go out and see shows all the time and support my friends in their endeavors too. The band that really influenced me was The Walkmen, their debut, I still think it’s an amazing record. The first I did when coming to New York was to record an EP in their studio, that was in Harlem, it’s since moved upstate. Interestingly the back-up band for this EP is now Adam Green’s back-up band.
Seems to me that New York has this gap of influence between the Dresden Dolls and The Strokes. There is nothing in the 90s.
Interpol was a very interesting New York band.
But it’s the same wave as the Strokes.
Jeff Buckley?
He worked and recorded in Tennessee though. Nico spoke to this blog at length about the Parisian scene and whether there is indeed such a thing.
People are really responsive to what we’re doing. I usually tour as a two-piece – I have a steel pedal player here, a string player, but I can’t afford to take them out on tour yet. So I wasn’t sure how they would take it, but even though we play fairly quiet music, we have a certain edge that people responded to, I kind of realized how we seem kind of gritty, and I never thought of us as that way at all, until we went there. It was nice to be in that kind of environment, I felt very comfortable there. I felt welcome and everyone was nice and encouraging. Bordeaux’s been great too, we love Bordeaux.
You’re signed on one label here, and Shakermaker is working on your publishing deals in Europe. What was the thought behind having a US company handling your affairs here and looking towards another to work in Europe, rather than having your home label branch out across the ocean?
It’s really simple, the US label is my label.
It takes a lot of control to put out your own label. I’m starting to feel like it’s necessary to have – not necessarily your own label, but one that is small enough to let you run free, creatively speaking, that won’t put a lid on your musical ambitions and won’t schedule your recording session over a five year period.
The main difference is capital. I am my own publicist, I pay for everything. The cash flow comes this one small source. I have friends who are on major labels, some are on some big indie labels, and you know, they bartend, and they wait tables, “oh great, I just played the fucking Isle of Wight”, and then literally coming back and working at Taco Chulo. They played their cards into other people’s hands, but you know, when I come off your and I schlep around like everybody else – I’m a copywriter for Bloomingdale’s – it’s good, we have a deal, they let me go on tour, it’s fine.
Do you think it’s a reaction to Universal buying everyone and this fear of being swallowed by this giant whale?
I think it’s more simple than that. It’s all about money. Small businesses and big labels can thrive at the same time as long as people buy records. I think some of those small indie labels are much smarter than most of the big labels now. They know how to make money for their artists and for themselves. I have another record to put out after this next tour, and I don’t know how much money is going to come from it now, people do Kickstarter, I record everything myself, we need these patrons to take care of us. We need guidance. It’s always going to be a place for labels, and I’m all for major labels. It’s sort of unfortunate that there is this sort of in-between space.
Not even two years since their decision to join together as a band, Call Me Senor is already in line to claim the title of most prolific band on the scene. Drawing strength from the unexpected yet unsurprising success of their track “Beat me up”, released for free just a few months ago, they toured France in the fall and are getting ready to conquer the old Albion this February. The fantastic duo discuss their love of The Black Keys, writing, touring, playing, and their love for each other. Tales from a musical Thelma & Louise that might just get a happy ending.
Interview and photos by Celeste Rhoads.
So, just to start, this band, it’s just the two of you?
Alex: It’s just the two of us, onstage, JB sings, I play keyboards and guitar. It’s the same in the studio. JB records the drums as well, and we use midi files whenever we need violins or other chords. It’s just the two of us doing everything. We’re currently working on the live/onstage side of things.
Have you ever thought of adding guest musicians to the line-up?
JB: It’s come up, every once in a while.
Alex: When we’re working on a song and we’re thinking it could use a female voice, for instance. It never really happens because JB is doing a great job. But as far as the band goes, we’re still a relatively new outfit, and so far we’re still trying to find where we stand, who we are, how we operate, before even thinking of adding a third member or using guest spots on a specific song or instrument.
Speaking of finding your place as a band, the first time I heard “Beat me up“, I was extremely surprised. I guess I was expecting something a little more traditionally indie rock, pop rock, something that fits more within the scope of the current Parisian scene, not something that extravagant, that immediately catchy, definitely not a dancefloor beat.
Alex: I appreciate it, I really do, but in a strange way, this song is hardly what represents us the best. We ended up distributing it for free, but there were hardly any expectations on this song, it all happened really fast. Within a few hours, every download server was full. It was initially supposed to be on our upcoming EP, and in a spur of the moment kind of thing, we decided to put it up for download.
JB: We just realised we had written something we both really, really liked.
Alex: See, this is where having a manager is important for us. Going back to the fact that there’s just the two of us, we’re so involved in what we’re doing, it’s hard to step out of the frame and gain perspective. This is where having a manager is useful. He gives us advice, perspective, direction. We’re constantly writing, constantly working, so obviously, when it comes to releasing something new, we’ll pick what’s most recent, what’s fresh in our minds.
You’re finding in management the marketing side of things that you sometimes fail to see, maybe.
Alex: He is capable of seeing what can be globally perceived as a good track, that has good potential, not necessarily what we see as being best. It’s a combination of the two.
Being so deeply involved in the creative process, do you try to look for another point of view, some outside criticism?
JB: There’s always a moment when you ask your girlfriend or your friend what they think of what you’re currently working on. The other way you can have a fresh pair of eyes on a project is just leave it aside for a bit and come back to it the next day, or the next week… or the next year.
Alex: We often work in stop-and-go moments, and when you re-arrange a track, or stop and come back to it, you have a completely different view of it, especially when we haven’t started working on the track together. If one of us starts working and brings something up to the other, that’s also a new perspective.
This way of releasing the track, this experiment of throwing an idea out there, how did it happen?
Alex: It’s our second time doing it, actually.
JB: We’re a relatively new band, we’re still working our own stuff, we’re still trying to make ourselves heard and known. Funnily enough, you can have bands with only two songs out there and already thinking ahead it terms of career and of sales. I don’t think this happens quite that fast. The first step is to get heard, be known, give people the opportunity to find out about you and make up their mind. Clearly, if tomorrow you’re faced with the pseudo-dilemma of seeing either Eels or us, you’re going to see Eels, obviously, because this is what you know. And at the end of the day, we’re not that phased – we write a lot of songs, if some of them end up being available for free, this isn’t going to make a dent into the pool of songs available for sale.
Alex: We’re definitely not afraid not to have enough songs left for an album, when it’s time for us to record a full-length album.
JB: We work a lot. We have a lot of material.
Alex: At the same time, we’re quite balanced in that regard. You can have bands that write 60, 70 songs and only keep 10 for the album – it’s a bit of a waste. On the other hand, we won’t write just 12 and make an album with those very same 12 numbers. Some of them we feel won’t work out, well, they don’t, you know. Some are not very well received when we play them live, you know, you have to test the songs. I’m happy that we released ‘Beat Me Up’ that way, for instance, because this song is an instant hit onstage. The bass line is well crafted, my guitar is on full open chords, it’s basic enough to work easily, it’s a really good tune. People take to it easily, start dancing. The fact it was released for free meant that everyone had easy access to it and immediately recognized it by the time we were playing it live.
JB: When you’re a relatively new band, with a very limited audience, that you’re starting out live, you’re playing in front of people who don’t know their songs, you don’t have the Rolling Stones’ version of “Satisfaction”, that one song that everybody knows and keeps people going.
Are there any songs right now that you know you won’t be playing live?
Alex: Slow songs maybe, of the ballad type. We have two or three already and we think that perhaps one is just about enough. The other ones won’t work.
JB: Sometimes we feel a bit stupid. You’re standing there and you’re wondering what song to play.
Alex: I can’t really talk about it really cause we have yet to play there, but I’ve seen bands play in England, or even back when I was living in New York [whee! - NdlR] people don’t necessarily come for one specific band on the bill, the one that they know; they’re going out to see three or four bands a night and are open to discovery. They’re coming for the whole package. The way we find ourselves here, like that time when we opened at La Flèche d’Or, we were featured on the bill along with Sourya and Neïmo, two very good bands – and friends, we all know each other very well, our manager organized it and it was comfortable – we felt a certain distance between the public and ourselves, and it’s a bit sad, really. You spend fifteen minutes of the whole set trying to bring them to you, to win them over, and to communicate.
How did you like playing at La Fleche d’Or on one of their “collective” nights? Was the audience ready to see all three featured bands, or were they primarily there for the one band that they had heard of?
Alex: Definitely all three bands. It was a bit different from the usual though.
JB: It was on November 7, yes. It wasn’t a free concert, though.
Alex: The difference was that we had been playing in Paris a lot by then, and Neïmo had been on a Parisian hiatus for about two years. It was a very good night really. By the end I think there were about 600 people there. I was convinced it was a 400 capacity, but they registered 600 for Neïmo, which is huge for Paris. They had everything ready, to be honest. They had cameras there, they’d film for a teaser, a trailer…
Just to give us an idea – how long have you been playing together?
Alex: all bands included?
JB: Just the two of us, it’s been eighteen months, a whole year that we’ve been taking it seriously. Actually, our anniversary is coming up.
When was that?
JB: I don’t know, around Christmas I guess?
Alex: We were at Le Baron, weren’t we?
JB: Yeah, I think it was more around January – February. We had already played live, but without specific preparation.
Alex: We mostly wanted to be in an outfit that allowed us to write songs, cause that was what we loved, but there always comes a point where you need the exposure that a live performance gives you. We both knew people from all side of the local musical spectrum, so we tried to make them come. We got help from friends.
JB: We’ve got help from the guys in Sourya, who have been nice and shared their equipment with us. We were a bit lost, it was new to us, and since they’re big nerds, they’ve been extremely nice. The spirit of the Parisian scene is dead, there’s nothing left to expect, but backstage, there is a real solidarity.
We talked about this with Nico, talking about how the London scene was very competitive, with so many bands emerging everyday, and he mentioned that the backstage atmosphere was diametrically different: bands wouldn’t help each other out with something as minimal as a jack.
JB: During soundcheck, a London-based band would use their time to the very last second so other bands don’t have all the time that’s been allocated to them. That’s the spirit, up North.
Do you have any connections to British bands?
Alex: The one we were closest to were The Wombats, they were friends of friends, we met them through poorly organized concerts.
Will there be an opportunity to share a bill at some point, like you did with Neïmo?
JB: There could be, but we spend most of our time in Paris, they’re London-based. You can meet other bands on specific occasions, foreign bands being booked in Paris, you strike up a relationship and think it’d be good to tour with them or play with them again.
Alex: We’re due to play in London soon, so we may meet nice people we’d be happy to bring to Paris, who knows…
JB: It’s true there once was this real exchange program between Paris and London, it was back when Pete Doherty moved to Paris, so the Paris guys went to London and the London bands came to Paris. There was a lot of exchange around that time, and at a higher level it’s always been done, like Phoenix, but there was once a time when it was the norm.
You will see when playing at 93 Feet East – there is this need to book bands on a less than industrial level, which is so hard when you’re responsible for that renowned a venue and work in London. There used to be a family-and-friends oriented scene back in the 90s, when it was about creating a community. Now it’s The Modern Times of music, everything is just part of a chain, and I find it a bit scary, the way you can easily lose any sense of identity.
Alex: There’s a “band of the year” every day in the UK now. It’s the NME way of life. Every week, someone outworks The Beatles.
I find it terribly worrying, because this NME tradition of finding everything and everyone so over-exciting means that no one can really find their place, because no one has the time to do it.
JB: Recently, apart from the Arctic Monkeys – and that’s my own choice – I don’t think anyone really stuck out. No one is really safely established.
Alex: Kasabian.
Kasabian are not from London, though.
JB: Neither are the Arctic Monkeys.
But Arctic Monkeys really made their first footprints in London, whereas Kasabian took their time before going to the big city. That’s another interesting thing, this northern scene in England, the Liverpool/Manchester axis. It’s mostly self-made men.
JB: See, I was in Manchester not too long ago, and I find it way more interesting, way more fun. I think there is a lot going on about Northern England. There’s soul up there.
Same goes for France, really. It’s all about Paris, but you rarely hear about bands coming from other parts of the country.
Alex: And we did tour the country, and no, we’re not close-minded at all, but let’s be honest, we’ve seen some really crazy stuff.
JB: And as you would have it, the strangest band to ever come out of the province, we saw them play in Paris.
Alex: Dude, not again with them. Stop promoting them. It’s free publicity.
JB: They’re called Phyltre. With a Y. And Ph. Like in “love potion”. Their songs are really funny. Unintentionally so.
Alex: They’re a bit shit, really. But yeah, they come from out of town, and they fucked up my soundcheck at the Bus Palladium because their guitarist refused to move his pedals, and here you go. This said, our set came before theirs because they made a fuss about playing after us, and our set was evidently much better.
JB: It was a really great concert for us. It’s a good thing to be able to watch other bands, even if you don’t like what they’re doing, even if their sound is not what you’re into. At the end of the day, there’s always something to learn. I would never go to a dub party, for instance, it’d be a nightmare for me. But there’s something in it that could be useful perhaps.
Call Me Señor ‘s “The Coast” is, in their own words, an alien song – not used to ballads let alone releasing one, the success of the homemade video contrats with their willingness not to play it onstage. “You don’t want to lose a crowd by playing a song that’s too slow right in the middle of your set”, says Alex. “It will be hard to pick up from where you left off after that. Once we establish a faithful audience, sure. But for now, it’s all about making people have a good time.”
Since Nico is here, I’d like to catch up a bit on what he told us about last summer, and mostly about Shakermaker, the label that he created just for you guys…
Nico: No. Not just for them anymore. Nope. I’ve signed other bands.
JB: He’s cheating on us.
I asked the manager, now I’m asking the band. What would happen should a major – or at least medium-sized – record company showed interest in Call Me Senor? What would happen to the relationship you have with Nico and Shakermaker?
Nico: I’m still not interested in working at the level a major record company would. I like my freedom, I like my independance, I like the way tour works. Should another company with decent motives show interest in the band, I would gladly sign them away. I certainly won’t get in the way.
Alex: It’s not a question of betrayal, it’s a question of evolution. But we’re not there yet. So far it’s working out, but yes, we’ve had opportunities, yes, we’ve considered them, no, we didn’t take them. We’re happy on Shakermaker.
JB: We do whatever we want to do and we work, create, write at our own pace. Nico is here to tell us when something is not working, he’s here to book interviews, shows, give us perspective, as we said before, but no decision is ever made without our full consent. He’s never pushed anything on us before. And we’ve grown to work and like it that way.
His first question, in the end-of-year spirit, is to share what inspired you musically this year, what has made an impact on you.
Alex: The Black Keys. The Black Keys’ album was very, very good. It was even better than Rubber Factory. It’s their best so far. It killed every other release this year.
JB: I’m ashamed to confess I have yet to listen to it. I haven’t. I’m probably the only one left.
Alex: Let me check my iPod. Let me check my iPod… and the top most played songs are our own songs.
JB: Well, there you go. Our EP is really good. It really made an impact on us this year.
Alex: And Katy Perry.
JB: Alex is a huge Katy Perry fan. There’s another band I really got into – Housse de Racket. The name is strange but they’re really interesting and intriguing. It’s worth giving a shot.
The second question is a little trickier: don’t you feel like there isn’t any excitment left in France, except a vintage revival maybe, and that everyone is too busy contemplating their own navel?
JB: Absolutely. I totally agree.
Alex: Whatever is currently produced in France is tailor-cut for radio plays. On some radios. Specific radio stations.
Nico: The whole quota that was created in the mid-1990s killed the non-mainstream part of French music. Because airplay is given – and limited to – French bands singing in French, a huge part of the indie scene gets hardly any rotation, apart from the random mix of BB Brunes on Le Mouv’, you know. Like Ouï FM. Or any rock station.
JB: Ouï FM is a rock station?
Nico: Ha, I mean… You see someone like Zaz getting major airplay, and why? Why? Why does she exist? In the meantime, you see bands like The Parisians that will have hard time getting on mainstream radio stations because they don’t sing in French. And outside of this specific quota, radios won’t play the French band singing in English, right, they will play the major British or American bands that everyone listens to, if only to boost the ratings. In the end, this quota – that was supposed to be a major help for French bands – is killing everything coming on the market.
But why sing in English and not in French, then?
Alex: Because it… because that’s not how we write.
Call Me Señor ‘s EP drops on February 8th on Shakermaker Records // they will play at London’s revered 93 Feet East on February 5th and will be at La Flèche d’Or on February 11th //
One of the perks of interviewing a journalist is that you get more than you’ve bargained for. In the second part of our interview, Nico analyzes how the Parisian scene compares to its London and New York counterparts, the rock’n'roll mindset, what really pisses him off, and how Paris is ultimately the best city in the world. If you haven’t already, read part one.
Photos by Celeste Rhoads.
Last year I went to see a band – an American band – strangely booked alongside some local bands at La Maroquinerie. It was extremely strange, and unfortunately, yet unsurprisingly, they failed to draw a large crowd. Someone commented, “Paris is not a rock’n'roll city”. What do you think of that comment?
Paris is lucky in the sense that there are so many places of various capacities where a band can play. But there’s no denying that next to what an American band has always known, what is so deeply engrossed in their culture, Paris is indeed not rock’n'roll at all. This said, I do take care of Patrick Bower‘s affairs, and he’s based in New York City, and another band called The Riff Raff based in London – yes, they enjoy the attention they’re getting when they’re in Paris because they come from a different place and they still enjoy the wonders of the new, but where they come from, it’s a nightmare to be booked. It’s just a struggle. It’s easier to be noticed in Paris than in London. In London, you get hundreds of bands fighting for the spotlight every night. There are so many opportunities, it’s true, but bands end up being so competitive, which makes the local scene absolutely unbearable from the inside. I’ve had some of my bands play in London and the other guys on the bill would not even help us with a jack. Everyone feels threatened. Whereas in Paris – well, I’ve never really lived in London, but in Paris, we may be less rock’n'roll in practice, but our spirit is. Much more so.
Bands help each other out. It’s still new here, and we don’t enjoy a buzz every year – they have one every week over there, in London – we have less hipsters, we are more into the sheer working aspect, we have more room to do research. We can breathe. It’s harder because of radio quotas, because record labels are unwilling to take chances, but the people I’ve met at the Shebeen were more relaxed, more trusting. I’ve managed bands for years without having to write a single contract. In New York, if someone wants to handle you, they’ll come with pre-written contracts in hand. Now back when the Shebeen was at its peak, we had the opportunity to start the scene the way we wanted, and we still do it the way we want to do it. Medium-sized venues such as La Maroquinerie and Le Point Ephemere pick up on bands when we have already generated some action around them. The venues that appreciate a challenge are La Mecanique Ondulatoire, Truskel, Motel for acoustic performances, L’International, La Fleche d’Or back in the day, we owe a lot to these venues.
What you’re saying is that Paris is punk. The culture of a struggle before getting somewhere, relying on a strong tight-knit community, starting your own label because the majors won’t go anywhere near you, and trusting networking and word of mouth. Paris would be punk?
I have no idea if this is punk, and I would certainly not call myself punk, cause I know I’m not. When I started managing Cosmic Charlie, I had no idea how things worked. I had no idea how to contact a label, how to be on the radio. But I started to book them in other venues elsewhere, nationwide. They started playing in crazy venues like Le Baiser Salé, La Féline, Le Gambetta, all those pub-sized areas in the 20th district until one day we decided we could do better. We upgraded to L’OPA, they opened for the Black Lips at the Triptyque, and we went to London and back. This spirit, this mindset is so important. There’s nothing worse than a bunch of guys coming in and thinking they deserve the best out there without ever having proved anything. Call Me Señor are currently playing live and we booked a guy, who shall remain nameless, to open for them. We had two dates – one at the Bus Palladium, one at the Scopitone. He wanted to go straight to the Bus Palladium as he considered himself too good for the Scopitone. The guy doesn’t have any releases on the shelves, he played live five times in his life. If I’d offer the Gambetta as an opener it should be fine, but the Scopitone is a cool place, with fine people.
What’s missing is the community aspect. People can put each other down all the time. It’s just any business, you know, you can’t get rid of the competition. My dad as a doctor, me as a journalist. Everywhere. Shark week.
Now that we’ve gone around most of your activity – would you consider yourself more of a journalist, more of a DJ, or more of a manager?
Certainly not a DJ. Above all things, NOT a DJ. I just do it because it’s fun. Mostly journalist, because that’s my official title, I got my degrees, my qualifications, my training, I have enough experience to claim that, but manager as well, which is now 24/7, and more recently CEO of a label, but it goes under “management” as well.
A label?
Yes, it’s called ShakerMaker (Like the Oasis song), and the staff members are comprised of me. I recently ran into an ex-girlfriend of mine who gave me shit because it was initially her idea to call the label that. The anecdote had skipped my mind, but the name stuck. It was just to release Call Me Señor’s first EP, but yeah, maybe I’ll sign other bands later on. I would love to be the new Ed Banger, but realistically speaking it’s nowhere within my reach, so I’m just playing on my own ground for the moment. I don’t need more; we’re having extremely good stuff to release, positive feedback from labels, a lot of good touring opportunities in the fall, so I don’t need to look elsewhere.
Are you still hungry, are there still new bands about to be tapped into?
Some bands are no longer within my reach either. Some bands are now successful enough to request decent paychecks that I can’t afford. They’ve moved on to doing evening TV performances, and on the other hand, you have extremely talented bands that remain unnoticed, like Fransz Is Dead. The man is an incredibly talented songwriter, a relentless worker, who tours a lot, who’s unafraid, yet no one mentions him when writing about the Parisian scene, it’s just a shame. The man is way beyond the regular rock’n'roll wave. He’s incredibly smart. Sometimes I can’t help thinking it’s a shame he’s in Paris.
But aren’t we going back to what we were saying earlier – that Paris has some sort of inferiority complex?
I was thinking about that the other day when setting up a photoshoot for Call Me Señor. We wanted to do something by the Eiffel Tower cause you know, it’s the biggest Parisian symbol, and it’s pretty epic, so we thought it’d be a perfect picture. Looking back on it you see all these Parisian bands being happy to be in Paris and singing about Paris but when you look at their CD sleeves and promo shoots, it’s like they’re in London or in Berlin or in New York, trying to recreate Ramones shots. I don’t get it. Let’s face it. Paris is the most beautiful city in the world. I don’t even think there’s a debate about that. We also have the most beautiful girls. We might not be the most rock’n'roll ones but we’re far from being a boring city. We have a lot of obstacles to overcome, we have a government that doesn’t really support the entertainment industry or even young people, so we have to deal with the consequences, but well.
What would happen to you should ShakerMaker be absorbed by a major or if Call Me Señor would sign to one? Would you sign up as well?
I don’t know. I’d get bored. I don’t want to be tied to one specific place. What’s interesting is to take on different hats and do different things. That’s why we’re doing this interview, I think, that I’m not stuck at the Bus Palladium, that I don’t owe anything to anyone.
Whenever or wherever you travel, do you feel like you have to import new ideas to Paris?
No. As I said, I’m not a big fan of London, what I do is what everyone else does. I go to Rough Trade East and bring back records. When you’re a Parisian band going to London, however, you can have a nice time. I’d bring back bands, though. I’m booking for La Fleche d’Or in September with an American band called Fang Island, and again in November with two British bands.
We’re asking that question to everyone it seems, but it really fits with what we’ve been talking. Do you think that the rise of independant music – through self-releases, self-promotion, self-production made by internet networking – will help rock’n'roll?
Yes. You can record your own music, put it online yourself, supervise and decide of the distribution. It won’t need a magazine page, it won’t need a radio promotion bomb, all it will take is a MySpace or a Facebook. Back in the 60s most musicians were starving, hardly any could survive on their music only. Not everyone could be a rockstar. Everything changed drastically. But it’s not entirely independant, it never will be. If you need record sales that matter, you still need a publisher, you still need the support of magazines, which means you need money. You can’t do without it. In France a label like Domino can supplant most of the majors. It’s important to have people who are curious enough to get out of that. It’s all about open-mindedness. A magazine like VoxPop would be just as happy to cover an unsigned band. We recently launched some sort of demo contest and we received just so many, I have no idea how we’ll get through that. Some dude even came to my house. I have no idea how he got a hold of my address.
Any regrets?
Professionally, no. I’m just 25. Some people set goals for themselves, to be at a certain place at a certain time by the moment they reach the quarter-life, but I have everything ahead of me. I have enough ambition to know when to go and when to appreciate what I have. But personally… Personally, I do have regrets, yes. Letting go of some people I should have never let go of.
Call Me Señor will be on September 15 at the Scopitone and on October 9 at the Bus Palladium. VoxPop Magazine exists in both print and digital versions. A huge thank you to Nico for his time, and for the UFO for the drinks and space.
It took us a hell of a long time to realize that when we’re not hustling down the streets of Brooklyn, we live in a pretty fine city called Paris. That’s Paris, France. Most of you would never think of putting Paris on the musical map. We found the one man that can prove you wrong. Nico Prat has been working as a journalist and manager for several years in the city of lights, and gave us his input on French rock’n'roll during a long and fascinating interview over a few drinks. From the dark and foggy nights at the Shebeen in the Latin Quarter in ’05 to the current passionate and fervent scene surrounding cult venues in Montmartre and Gambetta, Paris is on a journey to discover its own identity. In this first part, Nico Prat talks about where to go dancing, his belligerent beginnings at VoxPop Magazine, and Paris’ rock’n'roll infancy.
Words by Sarah K. Photos by Celeste Rhoads.
You do have a career as a DJ. I know you mix a lot at places such as Truskel, but I was wondering if one venue is specifically close to your heart?
Bus Palladium. It doesn’t have a sound monitor, for one, and you can play whatever you like. People going out on Tuesday nights are not most elitist, musically. So if you feel like playing a more or less obscure track, you better be sure of what you’re doing and know it’s going to keep people dancing. I just want to keep having fun. I love mixing at Truskel, but people still raise an eyebrow if you play Abba, for instance. Abba is AMAZING. I love playing it. You can do it in Bus Palladium. But if you play some Arctic Monkeys’ B-side – people will react to it in Truskel, they’re knowledgeable that way, but people at Bus Palladium would more enjoy a more known track like “I bet you look good on the dance floor.”
In short, you like Bus Palladium best because it’s mainstream.
It’s much more mainstream. And I’m not necessarily an indie type, as far as my taste goes. I love the Bus Palladium, but I’m not picky. I love doing it at Le Motel, for instance. Not L’International, because it’s no place for mixing. The sound is just a regular bar sound.
How did you even get started?
I graduated from high school then went to Paris for journalism school. I did some internships, including one for Mixte, a fashion magazine, and I’d like to just mention Nathalie Fraser – I was just a little cunt back then who was reading Rock&Folk and knew nothing about anything. I asked her what then-legendary venue Le Gibus was all about. She said it was cool, but the real cool people were at the Shebeen. I had no idea what the Shebeen was. I had to Google it. I ended up in the midsummer when no one was really there, and I met Earle Holmes. I met people, hung out with a lot of people. I started managing a band, Cosmic Charlie.
When the Shebeen closed, I was still a student, and still interning – I worked for Europe 2. So what really made me what I am today is meeting Earle. He still needed to do whatever he was doing, so I tried to hop on board.
I am a Shebeen vet, and I remember the void caused by the closing of the bar. Everyone had to go to and through Earle to play in here; he gave everyone a chance with his open-mic shows. He was a real pioneer.
He is the Godfather, no doubt about that. After that it was all hanging out a lot, meeting a lot of people, a lot of bands, managing bands – I’ve done a lot of that, now I’ve narrowed it down to only three…
… Only three.
I used to do that a lot, up to five or six bands simultaneously, it was impossible to do. I owe a lot to Earle, but eventually it was about being more than Earle’s second in command and start flying solo.
Tell me how you met Benjamin Durand (co-editor of VoxPop Magazine).
I met him at the Shebeen, of course. One day we were hanging out at Le Motel and we got kind of drunk. I remember it very well. There had only been one issue out at the time, and he asked if I wanted to write for him. I asked if he needed some writing samples, but he said no, that he knew me as a person and that it was enough. He believes me to be a good writer – well, I don’t know about that, but he trusts me unconditionally, and so does Jean-Vic Chapuis (editor in chief). My first interview was with Anton Newcombe, and it was a disaster, a complete disaster.
What happened?
He spat on me and tried to pick a fight. It was 10am and he was already soaked in vodka. I asked the one question I shouldn’t have. He had posted a series of blogs on MySpace against George W. Bush and I wondered if he considered himself “anti-Bush”, while he thought I should have said “pro-American”. After he spat on me I got up and started to leave, and he followed me and put his head on my chest, charging at me like a buffalo – the dude is much shorter than me, so I just felt bad – and he was like “Do you want to fight? Do you want to fight?” No, I don’t want to fight, it’s 10 in the morning, I’ve just had one coffee, and you’ve obviously had enough of whatever you’re on. His PR handled him and I just left.
After that Jean-Vic trusted me with more important pieces, and it’s now been one year and a half.
What we like here about VoxPop is that you guys are not entirely involved to the point of being overwhelming, like a so-called cult classic press. Like the NME.
Which is strange, cause I do have a big hipster side. I can get completely obsessed about one band and completely forget about it six months later. But when it comes to being a journalist and writing for VoxPop, yes, I do take a certain distance from the subject of my article. Like in any other professional field, you have the serious ones and the wankers. I’m one of those who do listen to the album before reviewing it, and I do some research before going out and interviewing someone. When I meet a band I’m not going to dive into the whole “difficult second album” topic. I’ll try to do something different. Jean-Vic Chapuis said something very interesting and that I think sums up the VoxPop spirit pretty well – what matters most is the man behind the music. I’m more interested in talking about music with the musicians than talking about their own music, you know? But it’s true it’s a job made by passionate people who’re not here for financial or corporate reasons, so you have a lot of people diving in head over heels.
I like the idea that it’s not necessarily about rationalizing everything about music. We’re all of the Rock&Folk generation, but it turned into a certain sectarian musical ideology, and what attracted me to VoxPop was the fact that it was completely okay to appreciate a band in a spontaneous, instinctive kind of way. Especially since the emergence of the new Parisian scene of ’05-’06. Before that, it seems to me that Paris had a giant inferiority complex about London, and that every single band that was coming out of Paris could only hope for success by being a London copycat. London or Northern England – Liverpool, Manchester. There was no national identity, musically speaking.
I agree. We do have an inferiority complex and in some way it’s completely natural – we’re so behind when it comes to breeding bands, even when it comes to the “baby rocker”, that dumbed down label, phase in ’06 – some bands managed to get out of it. I don’t think Second Sex‘s first album managed to get rid of their British influences, and well, The Shades – their album is incredible, and I really wasn’t expecting it. There’s a real work going on behind the scenes, a huge deal of research to find a city and a band’s own identity when you’re growing in London’s shadow. The Shades‘ background work is really reflected in their new releases and is a perfect display of what’s being done in Paris right now. The same album, if released three years before, would have been a complete alien and could have changed the whole hand dealt to the Parisian scene. What’s really annoying is that the bands that get the most media attention are not necessarily the most engaging ones, and a lot of the challenging and inventive types remain underwater.
Burlesque isn’t really something that anyone I want to be friends with should need to be sold on. Amazing, empowered, sexy women getting naked? Yes please! And I’m not even gay, but boobies are fun and nice to look at. So pair all that with rad music like Man Man, Circus Contraption, and the like and I am more than in. Also, pasties: always a plus.
Last night was the seventh annual Tease-A-Thon birthday celebration thrown by Music City’s burlesque darlings. That’s right boys and girls: Nashville’s very own Panty Raid! Burlesque has hit lucky number 7. And the show was fanfreakingtabulous. I didn’t really think much could top last year’s celebration, what with it being hosted by Scotty the Blue Bunny, a rather tall, amazing man in a blue skin-tight bunny suit and platform heels who at one point in the night stuck said heel up my dress while calling me Katy Perry and asking me through song why I was in Nashville. Yeah, it was a good night. But the lovely ladies and all their special guests did not disappoint.
This year’s theme was the Big Top and our Ringmaster was the ever lovely Miss Lolly Pop as the Bearded Lady. I have never in my days seen such an attractive fuzzy faced woman. My best friend said (as I thought it) “she looks like Lady Gaga” add a tutu and beard & the resemblance is spot on, and I was in love. Big blond hair adorned with a mini top hat and ruby-red heels straight out of Oz to match it, I wanted everything she was wearing and already own half of it. Assisting her in her hosting role when needed was the feisty dream boat known as Lulalicious. A sexpot if ever I’ve seen one.
The show opened with an aerial Silk and suspended hoop extravaganza set to “Circus” by B. Spears and both performers were so mesmerizing I actually screamed “fuck! I don’t know who to look at!” The night then took a turn to Bellydance and the lovely Shadhavar. Their routine was adorable and spooky, the perfect blend of two of my favorite things! The Violet Vixxxen gave us her version of the long running “Balloon Dance” clad in, what else but purple balloons and knickers. Then the ladies of Bodhicitta took the stage for their prayer dance. These are my personal connection to the night as I studied under a former member of the troupe and adore the current girls.
After our second foray into Tribal Bellydance we were taken back to the Burlesque by the simply adorable Diletta Delight as she showed us a bit
of what happens after leaving the stage…kinda sorta. She may have removed her stockings and silky robe, but as she danced into new thigh highs, petticoat, and a corset, topping it all off with her clown nose and broken parasol, the spirit of the fun that lives in Burlesque was obvious.
What circus is complete without a few sideshow acts? For our juggling adventures we had Tom Foolery and his light up balls which he followed by pulling three “big strong guys” from the audience to assist him in climbing atop a six-foot unicycle to juggle a machete, a rubber chicken, and a plunger, behind the back and after much urging by the crowd, under the leg! We “ooohed” and “aaaahed” at his feats. As well as giggled as he found a few dildos hidden in his bag to juggle.
Then we got the lovely duo of Freya Luna & Mister Exposition and their Doll Dance. They were adorable until they turned up the heat by both shaking and sexing up the stage. I plan on jumping my happy ass into the Burlesque classes Freya is teaching here in Nashville as soon as possible, she is that enthralling, I’m gonna give her lotsa money. Queen of the Air, Leela Sophina, was up next on the stage. I have seen her half a dozen times and last night she trotted out to her hoop in a sailor hat and performed what is now my favorite of her acts. SPARKLY SILVER PASTIES, OH MY!
Bellydance made its way back to the stage as Gypsyville and Shadavar combined and delighted the crowd with shimmies and hip locks galore. Nataraja Yoga Dance Company contorted and astounded with an amazing routine. And then we went back to the doll house as The Spinderellas and their hula hoops took to the stage. They were AMAZING. Their act was that of competing dolls and it was adorable and awe-inspiring. At one point it appeared as though their hoops were lassos…I don’t know how they did it but I was delighted.
Hot Lava Lizzie brought us to a land where burlesque and the sideshow meet.
What came next was my favorite part of the evening. The incredibly adorable Kiki LaRue took the stage as a sexy little rainbow clown pulling her Red Flyer full of tricks behind her. Her routine went from cute and funny to hot as hell in about 3 seconds flat and I loved it all. The night closed out with the astounding Chris Lemon and his insane act of being suspended by his hair and twirling at breakneck speed. This year he had added a partner to do the Masochism Tango and twirl with him and they spun and burned and danced and even did a bit of M.J.’s Thriller routine to send us off into the night.
The night was a smash. Burlesque, Bellydance, Aerial Acts, Sideshow Freaks, Jugglers, Cotton Candy, it was anything and everything but boring and I can’t wait for the next go round. I may have lost an ass shaking contest to some chick with like 9569436 friends in attendance who had no bum, but next time I shall be prepared by wearing a dress and cheating by flashing frilly underpants and ample amounts of the junk in my trunk. All in all, the night was a huge success and a portion of the proceeds went to help with those effected by the horrible flood that hit Nashville a few weeks ago, which is just a bonus to the good time. Boobies and flood relief! What a combo!
You can check out Music City Burlesque for even more info on some of the tantalizing ladies that performed last night!
We have contributors from Tennessee, but sadly 2010 did not work out for us; we were reduced to having to stand on the sidelines. The only good thing to come out of this was being able to pick our favorite performances for this year and maybe prepare for the next. The line-up was so incredible it was a hard choice, but thankfully, artists and festival-goers got together to create good feed, useful streaming, so here’s to recreating the best festival of the year in your living-room…
Tori Amos – “Silent All These Years”
The queen of indie pop and the original Fair Lilith has always performed in an intense, unique way. Florence & The Machine did not invent white flowy robes, and Bat For Lashes did not come up with the piano solo all on their own. Tori Amos is the pioneer, the frivolous and intelligent songwriter that paved the way for an entire generation of female performers. This year, her rendition of 1992′s Silent All These Years sent shivers down my spine. Tell them, Tori. Tell them.
The National – “Terrible Love”
High Violet is undoubtedly the most achieved release of the year so far. Almost impossible to dethrone, the Brooklyn group is now winning crowds over during a long-lasting tour that we know is going to break hearts nationwide. It was a hard pick, between a solemn Fake Empire and this one, but you won’t regret it. Close your eyes and lay down. Let it carry you away.
The Temper Trap – “Sweet Disposition”
I have always been a monumental fan of this song, but it was taken to a whole different level one Indian summer night in London at a party in a front yard. As the sun was setting and the cigarettes were lightning and the gin was pouring, the notes resonated all throughout the city, from the gentle hills of Telegraph Hill to the cold stones of London Bridge. It wasn’t much different an ocean away, really, so this goes to you, South London.
Julia Nunes – “Odd”
Oh, we love, love Julia Nunes. She’s fresh, incredibly talented, and down to earth. That 5’3″ musical genius performed one of her oldest songs, “Odd”, on her ukulele, an energetic take with abundant enthusiasm. We defy you not to clap your hands and jump on your seats; Julia Nunes has this incredible effect on people; that of rising them from their slumbers, of constantly tapping in their reserves of empathy and making them nostalgic for feelings they wish they had. Never change, JuNu.
Kings of Leon – “Sex on Fire”
An epic band, an epic song, an epic venue. You can’t get any better than that. The Tennessee natives came out of a stint in the City of Lights where they recorded their upcoming album. In need of their live performance fix, they made a triumphant return home, facing a giant crowd fading into the horizon. Nathan Followill could not hide his excitement at the idea of “playing at the ‘roo”, as he said, melting in the humid heat and sweating under the lights. That’s just rock’n'roll, I guess.
The Avett Brothers – “I and Love and You”
Simple songs with simple lyrics conveying complex feelings are amiss in the musical landscape. It took a bunch of guys with funny beards, strange accents and those unmistakable checkered shirts to claim “Oh Brooklyn, Brooklyn, take me in / Are you aware of the shape I’m in?” We’re not going to be asked twice. We will take you in, arms wide open, Avett Brothers, and the rest of the family as well. A fantastic performance, a real tear-jerker, a wonderful token of gratitude. One of my favorites of the whole festival.
More to come! with The Black Keys, Regina Spektor, Weezer, etc.
Few bands create that more excitement around this blog than Frightened Rabbit. Truth be told, they might be the band we’re most crazy about this year. Ever since the release of their über excellent third opus, The Winter of Mixed Drinks (reviewed here by yours – very infatuated – truly), the Scottish quartet has been on a roll and is now touring like no Scottish band has ever toured before. They are also tweeting like a bunch of, well, frightened rabbits, but in-between two puns, they managed to cheer up our very own Shanden, and that was just adorable.
The first single, Nothing Like You, was a perfect album preview for what I consider to be a direct follow-up from their 2009 sophomore effort, Midnight Organ Fight, in the competition for best break-up album. Then came the beautiful and spring-like Swim Until You Can’t See Land, setting the atmosphere for an album centered around the theme of being lost at sea – a theme that may be commonly used in music, but rarely with such intensity, truthfulness, and sincerity. Now comes Living In Color, a bright, explosive, anthemic, and crowd-rousing number that you simply can’t miss. If you do, baby pandas will cry.
Come see them all over the place this year – on their home turf at T in the Park, in my home turf at Oxegen, then in Glastonbury, in every place where music matters. Check their tour dates.
Oh, we’ve been gone for a while, haven’t we? We’ve got a tiny little tan to prove it but mostly, we’ve been indoors listening to records and baking cupcakes. This is what happens when one gets old. Overcrowded beaches no longer do it.
We could not be more excited about this month. We Parisians now celebrate the arrival of spring – birds are twittering in the trees as I type this – days are getting longer, and album releases are getting better. Spring and summer fashion is now in the shops, and you can raise a happy glass to the end of winter, if you’re not stuck under the East Coast’ snowpocalypse, that is. If so, here’s something to warm you up!
