Monthly Archives: December 2015

“I don’t know what it is about music, but it has always been there for me. It is my best friend that seems to get me better than anyone else. As hokey as it sounds, it has elevated every emotional peak and valley in my life.”

“I have always felt music in my bones. My mom used to tell stories that, even when I was hardly 2 years old, I would put my hands on the dishwasher and groove with the rhythmic swishing sounds it provided. As much as I really appreciate all music, even screamo death metal, there are a few moments in my music history that really stand out as being an integral part in the shaping of my own music.

The Teddy Bear’s Picnic is my first memory of music and it was magical to me. This was a book that came with a record in a sleeve in the back. My dad and I would sit in his office, read the story, and sing the song along with the record player. The song is actually kind of spooky now that I think about it, but that probably helped guide me into the minor chords that I regularly use in my own music.

As I grew up, I fell into the pattern of just listening to whatever my parents had on in the house. When I was probably 7 or 8, I fell in love with The Pointer Sisters, Michael Jackson, Madonna, Mariah Carey, and Huey Lewis and the News. If any of those artists were on, I was rocking out!

Read More »

Stew and the Negro Problem seem to take delight in throwing roadblocks in their own way. First there’s that name, which many will find off-putting despite the fact that Mark Stewart (aka Stew) is an African American. And it’s not as if he’s making the kind of provocative and often offensive music that bands with controversial names (e.g., Rapeman, Anal Cunt) specialized in producing.

Indeed, The Negro Problem’s LPs are rated G. But Stewart further complicates his life by creating the albums he does, which are all over the place, making it difficult to pigeonhole him into a genre. Soundtrack music, power pop, folkie pastorals (complete with flute) about William Holden, speedy tunes with straight-up hard bop interludes, songs that time travel from ska-lite to New Orleans jazz, other songs that sound like they were recorded in 1972—and we’re only talking about one LP, 2011’s Making It.

But it’s that eclectic approach that makes Stew—who has recorded solo albums alongside LPs with The Negro Problem—so great. Take the instrumental title cut. It’s a groovy blast of early seventies soundtrack music, featuring one happening organ by Joe McGinty and a great—and I mean great—saxophone played by Mike McGinnis. There’s only one band out there that might attempt something similar, and that’s Lambchop. “Pretend” opens as a slow guitar-based tune, until McGinnis returns to play some top-notch saxophone skronk.

He’s not Albert Ayler, mind you, but he’s damned good, and he goes on until Stew and his long-time collaborator and former girlfriend Heidi Rodewald (the LP deals loosely with their break-up) take their turns on vocals about a “Stupid little song that’ll make you break down and cry/Stupid little song did you ever stop and wonder why?” “Stupid little songs all stay true,” sings Stew, before Rodewald comes in with the rest of the band to bring the song to a fantastic climax complete with one very cool guitar played by Jon Spurney.

Read More »

Star-studded collaborations have a tendency of failing to meet expectations, but in a positive twist that’s not the case with the union of Alan Vega, Alex Chilton, and Ben Vaughn. Blending twisted roots and lopsided retro-pop into a surprisingly agreeable result, it’s something of a head-scratcher this summit meeting of high-test Americana hasn’t found wider listenership. On December 4 Light in the Attic and Munster Records give the public a fresh chance, reissuing Cubist Blues on double vinyl and compact disc; both are accompanied by digital downloads, with the latter including a live show from Trans Musicales, France on Dec. 7th, 1996. Pick your format wisely.

Alongside Martin Rev, Alan Vega has secured lasting fame through his participation in Suicide, a duo comprising one of the finest examples of punk’s first wave. Helping to shape the non-commercial side of the New York City scene, Suicide’s breakout material is accurately assessed as a crucial early wrinkle in the upswing of electronic music while essentially thriving as a wily mixture of garage rock and Detroit proto-punk; the distillation was a potent and borderline threatening new beast.

Though it’s not immediately detectable, an element of classicism was threaded into Suicide’s attack, as noted fan Bruce Springsteen has covered the group’s “Dream Baby Dream” on numerous occasions. Thusly, Vega crossing paths with Alex Chilton isn’t as unlikely as it might seem. Not a bit, in fact; Suicide shared the stage of Max’s with The Cramps, a band produced by Chilton.

The departed Alex Chilton stands amongst the great and irrefutably complex treasures in rock’s annals. From the blue-eyed soul of the Box Tops to the cornerstone power pop of Big Star to the aural wilderness of the ‘70s solo stuff and connections to punk’s uprising to his impact on ‘80s alt-college radio and a late-career resurgence of unusual vitality, the guy is simply a rough diamond in American Music’s glorious mineshaft.

Read More »

Bean Kaloni Tupou is perhaps best known for singing and playing in the San Jose, CA four-piece Sourpatch, but as Try the Pie she additionally offers solo artistry of considerable acumen and growing prominence. Her most recent work in this mode emerged this past April, but those wishing to explore Try the Pie’s beginnings are graced with good luck for the venture’s earliest recordings have been given a fresh vinyl pressing courtesy of the Happy Happy Birthday To Me label. Featuring 13 of Tupou’s songs delivered up close and very personal through guitar and voice, Rest is available now.

Together with her contribution to the San Jose-based Think and Die Thinking Collective, Bean Tupou’s credits include Crabapple, Salt Flat, and Plume, but thus far her highest profile undertaking has been Sourpatch, a sadly defunct outfit (their Bandcamp refers to them in the past tense, anyway) having specialized in a dead-solid expansion of a particular wrinkle of the early ‘90s indie aesthetic.

Specifically, think of the Slumberland and SpinArt enterprises. Diversity and focus worked in Sourpatch’s favor, the group actually offering a broader sound than some of their influences but not so wide-ranging that 2010’s Crushin’ and ‘12’s Stagger & Fade (both released by Happy Happy Birthday To Me) connect like samplers of a bygone era.

Sourpatch also wielded a punkish energy at times somewhat reminiscent of certain chapters in the tale of K Records. By extension they were occasionally described as twee punk, though to these ears this observation continues to seem a little off-target; Sourpatch weren’t childlike, instead proffering guitar pop of a cosmopolitan but still fairly snarly bent.

Read More »