The Sounds @ Metro (4/20/2006)

Attitude and swagger are two ingredients to a good rock ‘n’ roll band. Relying on just those two elements isn’t enough to survive on unless there are engaging songs to back up the talk.

The Sounds made their Chicago return for an all ages show at Metro to the tune of Journey’s ‘70s hit “Don’t Stop Believing.” For better or for worse, the song has a rejuvenated life in Chicago since being associated with the Chicago White Sox and their run for baseball’s World Series title last year. Whoever made the decision to use the song as the band’s introduction should have considered the fact that just a few steps south of Metro is Wrigley Field—the home of the Chicago Cubs. You can give the Swedish band some credit for trying to tap into the city’s sports scene; they certainly aim to please.

To the all ages crowd that was squeezing and elbowing to get a little closer to the stage, it didn’t matter if it were Journey or the 1985 Chicago Bears performing the “Super Bowl Shuffle” over the club speakers; they came to experience the rock ‘n’ roll they’ve come to accept from the Sounds.

The 5-piece band ripped through a set that lasted just under an hour and a half. Every note played and every move made by the band was simply eaten up by the crowd. Even the banter of lead singer Maja Ivarsson worked the crowd up; she must have gotten equal applause for the number of times she snarled “Fuck” to the crowd as she did singing. She was a fitting image of the stereotypical female Swedish goddess to every man and woman inside Metro. She combined the glamour and toughness of Blondie’s Deborah Harry with the prowling stage presence of the Rolling Stones’ Mick Jagger.

The band’s creative growth may not have taken a massive leap forward between their debut Living In America (2003) and their latest Dying to Say This to You, but they have become better at fusing the raw power of punk and pop chorus hooks with grinding dance grooves on stage; that alone is one of their best musical strengths. In that regard, the Sounds were on top of their game at Metro. New songs like "Queen of Apology" and "24 Hours"
opened the night with furious enthusiasm. Ivarsson showed no fear as she dove into the crowd during “Living In America.” The band kept the show’s pace on high with each song and gave no indication of slowing down. This was evident when the band performed “Night After Night” from Dying to Say This to You. On record, the song appears as two versions: the first as a slow, piano driven take and the other as an up-tempo hidden bonus track. The band opted to perform the “rock” version of the song instead. Proving there was still plenty of kick to their older songs, the Sounds shook up matters even more with vibrant renditions of “Seven Days A Week” and “Hope You’re Happy Now.”

During the show’s encore, the Sounds reached their peak at just the right time. With a three-song punch of “Dance With Me,” “Fire,” and “Ego,” the band delivered the goods and a set designed to keep the body moving. The Sounds might be a one trick pony (god only knows rock music today has plenty of those types of bands), but it’s the band’s persistent desire to maintain a sense of fun for themselves and their music that deserves applause.

What was perhaps the best moment of the night didn’t occur during the show but afterwards. As the crowd left Metro, a family of four huddled off to the side of the dance floor near the back, waiting for their chance to merge with the traffic of people. The parents held their young children close to them, their kids appearing to be between the ages of 10 and 12. All four had looks of shock and confusion. Who were these men with eyeliner and spiked hair? Why were these teenage girls—wearing more make-up than a Las Vegas showgirl—trying to squeeze out cleavage that wasn’t there yet? Was this an all ages concert or some pubescent orgy?

To the Sounds, they would call it a good night.

All Photos By: Chris Castaneda

Death Cab For Cutie & Franz Ferdinand @ Aragon Ballroom (4/19/2006)

The Aragon Ballroom may not be considered the best sounding venue in all of Chicago, but it certainly has a long history of musical legends that have performed under the painted starlit sky ceiling. Bands like the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, and R.E.M. have all taken on the bass boomy ballroom and survived to see another day.

On Wednesday night, Death Cab For Cutie and Franz Ferdinand brought their co-headling tour to the Aragon for a sold-out all ages show. The initial news of the two bands touring together created a lot of buzz. The tour presented two bands on the rise. In Franz Ferdinand, you had a band out of Glasgow, Scotland, that stormed the world with its 2004 self-titled debut album and pile driving single “Take Me Out.” In Death Cab For Cutie, you had a band from the indie rock circuit of the late ‘90s that was finally having the spotlight come to them on their own terms.

For Death Cab For Cutie and lead singer Benjamin Gibbard, the band from Bellingham, Washington, was capping off a sentimental day in Chicago. Earlier in the afternoon at Schubas, an intimate sized club with a playing room fit for about 150 people (a far cry from the 4,500 capacity Aragon), the band performed for the “Live From Studio X” series sponsored by local radio giant WXRT. It was a chance for Death Cab For Cutie to revisit the stage where they first made their Chicago debut almost six years ago.

“I wish we could play longer, but that curfew is a bitch,” said Gibbard to the audience before the band’s encore performance at the Aragon. The issue of time was one of the drawbacks from a co-headlining show like this. Both bands had just over an hour to put on their best. In some ways, it worked out perfectly for Franz Ferdinand and the tempo of its show. The Scottish four-piece geared up their North American tour behind their second album You Could Have It So Much Better (2005) at the Aragon this past September and played for the same amount of time they were scheduled to have on Wednesday night: one hour. But for two bands that genuinely seem to respect and enjoy each other’s music, it was enough time to have some fun.

Franz Ferdinand proved that although it wasn’t a typical Friday night people could still work up a sweat to the right beats and rhythms any day of the week, even at 7:30pm on Hump Day. After the frantic opener “This Boy,” the band laid down the bricks with a raucous performance of “Do You Want To.”

Franz Ferdinand was brimming with confidence. Singer/guitarist Alex Kapranos may have been the eye candy, flashing winks and coy smiles to the crowd, but it was lead guitarist Nick McCarthy who pushed the musicality of the band to its peak, jerking each note and chord for all they had. Songs like “Walk Away” and “Eleanor Put Your Boots On” provided smooth transitions from the raw, high-speed, dance grooves to showcase the depth of the band’s songwriting and ability to slow matters down. But when Franz Ferdinand jumped back into the fray, there was a sense that the race was coming to a close. “Take Me Out” got the dance floor bouncing, arms began to wave in unison during “The Fallen,” and, finally, the band sprinted across the finish line with the closer “This Fire.”

It was night and day between the end of Franz Ferdinand’s set and the start of Death Cab For Cutie’s set. The stage was barely visible, almost covered in a blanket of low blue lighting, as Gibbard took to the piano and guitarist Christopher Walla picked out guitar notes that echoed throughout the ballroom like distress calls for the band’s opening tune “Passenger Seat.” Although the band’s set took a time detour from the types of shows it normally performs as a main headliner, what remained consistent with this set was the band’s touch as musical painters with sounds and words, splashing songs like “The New Year” and “Why You’d Want To Live Here” with purpose onto a larger canvas.

The crowd’s clamor for “Crooked Teeth” and “Soul Meets Body” dispelled the criticism the band faced with its major label debut Plans (2005), as if the band’s songwriting capabilities would suddenly turn into hollow pop songs because of Atlantic Records. But for all the textures and colors the band crafted throughout its set, it was Gibbard who elevated the show to another realm with a solo acoustic performance of “I Will Follow You Into The Dark.”

The song’s theme of accepting mortality and shedding the fear that comes along with the idea of death created a hush in the Aragon. Gibbard stood stoically in the light with his acoustic guitar as his lips pressed against the microphone with the lines, “Love of mine, someday you will die/But I’ll be close behind and I’ll follow into the dark.” The voices in the shadows joined with Gibbard’s as each line was sung; it was a testament to Death Cab For Cutie’s success of staying its own course as songsmiths and not compromising to gain cheap popularity.

After the encore finale, “Transatlanticism,” Gibbard said to the roaring audience, “See ya at Lollapalooza. We’re playing with Beck. It’s going to be ultimate.” Fans exiting the Aragon must have started their countdown to August when the 3-day festival takes over Chicago’s Grant Park. For all their differences, artistically and stylistically, Death Cab For Cutie and Franz Ferdinand turned a brief evening into an evening filled with moments that were as soul searching as they were exhilarating. Variety was indeed a spice to a Wednesday night.

All Photos By: Chris Castaneda

Yeah Yeah Yeahs @ Riviera Theatre (4/14/2006)

“Sometimes I think I’m bigger than the sound,” wailed Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs as she sang in the heat of the band’s sold-out show at the Riviera Theatre. The front woman, dressed like a cross between a go-go dancer and a geisha girl, truly lived up to the lyric during “Cheated Hearts” as her voice carried throughout the theatre with power.

The band from Brooklyn, New York returned to Chicago for their second visit in two months behind their second album Show Your Bones. The hype that surrounded the band after their 2003 debut Fever To Tell has died down but in its place stands a level of credibility the band has rightly earned.

The band’s manic style on stage proved to make a clear connection with the crowd. Fans that packed the dance floor of the Riviera Theatre either jumped up and down in unison to the songs or tossed their bodies into each other, forming sporadic mosh pits during the show. For a show that only lasted an hour and twenty minutes (minus sets by two opening acts), the Yeah Yeah Yeahs never once took a wrong turn.

While Karen O embodied the physicality of the music, it was guitarist Nick Zinner and drummer Brian Chase that brought the cyclone of sound down onto the audience. From the outset, the band dove into their new album. “Turn Into” and “Way Out” set the hard-hitting tone of the night; “Fancy” brought a crushing Black Sabbath blow through Zinner’s chainsaw guitar riffs. The trio incorporated a multi-instrumentalist who played bass, acoustic guitar and keyboards to alleviate Zinner’s guitar duties, which created a much more realized sound and texture. But at the center of everything was Karen O.

Her confidence was as bright as the gold hot pants she strutted around in on stage. Men and women hung on her every move—if she jumped, they jumped; if she sang with venom, the crowd’s intensity would manifest itself into moshing. But through it all, Karen O had some fun, giving fans a quick wink or enticing by revealing her bra straps as a mini-strip tease.

The musicianship of the band continues to blossom, counterbalancing instruments like acoustic guitars and keyboards with their sonic arsenal, but it is the band’s raw touch where they gain much of their strength. “Gold Lion” swam like a great white shark on the hunt, ready to strike at any moment. When they weren’t in a complete frenzy, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs revealed their more reserved side to take a breath and slow matters down while maintaining an edge. After the fuzz jangle pop of “Dudley,” Karen O showed off more of her vocals with the soft, yearning “The Sweets.” The crowd may not have understood the message most of the time behind the band’s songs, but that didn’t seem to matter. Repetitive lyrical phrases are nice tricks to have in songs, but if the audience identifies the emotional push behind the songs, they will sing along with every note.

The band made quick work of their two encores. The audience roared as Chase played the opening drum parts to “Maps,” probably the best known hit by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. After “Black Tongue” tore up the stage, the band pulled another track from Fever To Tell, the hidden track “Poor Song” to close out the evening. The sheer abandonment the band performed with not only commanded the stage but the fans as well. It was that intangible that no one in the room could really put their fingers on but could definitely sense. This wasn’t a band trying to act the fool; this was a band that just wasn’t afraid. On this night, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs arrived and departed as everyone’s number one band.

Dying To Sound Off: Q & A With Johan Bengtsson Of The Sounds

Once in a while, the American musical landscape gets an injection of new life from outside the country’s borders.

Most famously the British Invasion of the 1960s, led by the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, had such an immense impact on American popular culture that over the course of forty years the music of the past still resonates in the music of today.

In 2002, rock music, thought to be dead and stale since the demise of Nirvana in 1994, exploded once again, bringing down the pop groups that saturated much of American radio. This time around it was the land of Sweden coming to the rescue. These bands somehow found what American rock bands couldn’t seem to find or quite sustain—passion. The band that lit the match with its single “Hate To Say I Told You So” was the Hives. Suddenly other Swedish acts, veterans in their home country, were sharing the spotlight like they just formed a week ago, bands such as the Soundtrack of Our Lives and the Hellacopters.

Among those Swedish groups was the dance infused rock band the Sounds, who made their U.S. debut with 2003’s Living In America. Propelled by the hooky “Seven Days A Week,” the 5-piece band from Helsingborg became a hot buzz band whose energetic live shows worked concertgoers into a hot, sensuous sweat like they had just experienced the raunchiest sex they’ve ever had.

With the band’s sophomore album Dying to Say This to You now released, the Sounds have embarked on their latest tour of America. In an interview with bassist Johan Bengtsson prior to the band’s U.S. tour, the 26-year-old musician discussed the evolution of the band’s new album, his musical calling as a youth, and the push towards the decade mark for the Sounds.

Chris Castaneda: How was it recording Dying to Say This to You after the time off since releasing and touring behind the debut album, Living In America?

Johan Bengtsson: The album was easier to make than I thought it would be. We didn’t write on tour. The time gap between the first album and this album has been quite long. When we got off tour we were like, “Can we really write again?” since we hadn’t written any songs in a long time. But when we actually started to write, the process was pretty quick.

It wasn’t two years, really. We did the Warped Tour and then we turned down a lot of offers. We could have kept on touring but we had to stop it somewhere so we could go back and write a new album. So, after the Warped Tour, we took maybe two, three months off and then started writing. By the summer, we recorded it.

CC: Did Jeff Saltzman’s work on the Killers’ debut album Hot Fuss capture the band’s attention when it came time to start working on a new album?

JB: It was definitely the album. When we started talking about him, I didn’t know he produced the Killers’ album. We flew over in March and had meetings with different producers. We didn’t meet him at the time, but we heard he was really interested. He said stuff like, “I’d drop everything to work with you guys,” and, “I’d cancel all my projects just to make this album with you guys.” That was appealing to us. Then we got the good deal and he said, “Come up to my studio. We can work as long as you want.”

Recording in America rather than Sweden was something we wanted to do for this album. It was more Jeff choosing us than us begging him to make our album.

CC: What was the recording process like this time around?

JB: We had almost unlimited time whereas the first album we did in maybe two weeks. We didn’t have any experience of being in the studio prior to the first album. This time we had time in the studio to actually work with Saltzman and the songs to make them even better songs.

It’s a really good sounding album, and I think he’s a big part of it. Not only is he a good producer, he’s a good engineer, too.

CC: On Living In America, each song was running on all engines. There’s a song on Dying to Say This to You that really goes in a different direction from the first album formula, the slow tempo song “Night After Night.” In fact, there are two versions on the album. As a bonus, you’ve included a faster tempo version of the song. How did that song develop originally?

JB: The fast version was the original version. It was in the studio and Saltzman was saying, “I think this album needs a slower song.” And we were like, “We can’t write slow songs.” We have no idea. He said, “No guys, seriously, you need to write a slow song and this album will be great.”

We couldn’t come up with anything. We just tried and tried. Then late one night we were in the control room and Jesper (Anderberg) was playing the piano. Jeff (Saltzman) was like, “What’s that?” I said, “It’s that other song we’re working on.” Jeff said, “Ok, we got to record it, we got to record it!”

We recorded the piano and then add stuff after that like the drums. We recorded kind of backwards. It turned out really great; it still gives me the chills.

CC: Has the band performed the song live yet?

JB: We only played it once. The first time we ever played any new songs live we did it in our hometown in Sweden. We haven’t played it since then, but we’re planning on playing it as soon as the album comes out.

CC: The Sounds have been together for about eight years, just around the corner from that ten-year mark…

JB: I know. It’s kind of scary [Laughs]. We’ve all been in bands prior to this band, but since day one when we all got together in the rehearsal space there was some weird chemistry between us. Everyone felt, “We don’t have a single song, but I know this is the band that’s gonna make it.”

I think that’s the essential key to having good bands stay together. We’re all a bit different now than we were a few years ago. We’re all getting older; we’re growing older together. We respect each other in a whole other way now. We’re entitled to have private lives that we didn’t have before. I have a kid, a 4-year-old son, and I need time to spend time with my kid; people realize that now.

CC: I noticed James Iha, formerly of the Smashing Pumpkins, had a hand in the album. What was that like?

JB: He and Adam Schlesinger of Fountains of Wayne were in for two sessions; one in the beginning and one in the end. They really helped out a lot. We’ve known James for a few years now; I respect him as a musician. Adam is a great songwriter. It’s good to have those older people who’ve been around for a while and have been in successful bands with us in the studio to ask them for advice.

CC: What inspired you to become a musician or be in a band?

JB: I started playing acoustic guitar when I was a little kid. I found a guitar in the attic of my parents’ house, and I’ve been playing since. I’ve been playing in bands since I was 12.

CC: Was there any particular band that really hit you the hardest that drew you into music more?

JB: I’ve listened to all kinds of music; it’s gone through phases. At one point, I was listening to Metallica a lot as a kid; on the other hand I was listening to Nirvana and the whole Seattle scene when that was going on. I was in seventh grade and playing in bands listening to Nirvana.

CC: See, I was in class doing homework while you were in bands, and you’re just a year ahead of me [Laughs]. So, what memories do you have from your 2003 show at Metro?

JB: We’re good friends with another band from Chicago—Kill Hannah. They opened up for us when we did the headline tour for the first album at Metro. Chicago has always been nice to us; Metro is a really good venue. We like playing there.

CC: Do you have any favorite songs on Dying to Say This to You?

JB: I really like “Tony the Beat.” It’s a really good pop song with a more experimental vibe to it.

CC: Now, the band shares the songwriting duties in what seems to be a pretty democratic way. Is it pretty fair to say that any idea that gets brought to the table gets a chance to grow?

JB: Actually, that’s exactly how it works. The process was different on this album, though. The first album was written over a long period of time before we even knew we would release an album. We kept on writing songs and kept on trying to get a record deal while playing live as much as possible. All those songs from the first album were played tons of times live before we even recorded them.

On this album, we didn’t have the time to just write forever. So, we built our own studio, a small area where we write. Everything is pretty much written in that studio in Sweden before we take it to the rehearsal place and play it together as a band. So, the process has been different in that way. It gives us time to analyze it more. The songwriting is better now than it was on the first album because it’s more thought through.

The Brunettes @ Schubas (4/4/2006)

Hailing from the city of Auckland, New Zealand, the Brunettes have carved out a career spanning eight years. Listening to the Brunettes, one might hear a doo-wop band buried inside a melodic pop band buried inside a garage rock band; each layer is as interesting as the last.

Plus, a rock band that incorporates an ironing board with their stage setup has to know something about putting on a good show.

After an opening slot the previous night for up-and-comers Clap Your Hands Say Yeah at Metro, the Brunettes took an evening to headline a show at Schubas. The band’s return to Chicago held some sentimental value since it was in Chicago at the Elbo Room, almost a year to the day, that the band made their first stateside appearance.

A trumpet, saxophone, banjo, lap steel guitar, keyboards, xylophones, and noise shakers that produced duck quacking were just some of the instruments that cluttered an already small stage for the six-piece band. The band’s leaders, Jonathan Bree and Heather Mansfield, tiptoed their way through the stage, smiles on both faces eager to get the show underway. The crowd that was once standing in the middle of the room during the night’s two openers now huddled the stage.

The soft, innocent voice of Mansfield soon commanded the room the moment “Baby” started off the show; its ‘60s pop tones harkened back to early Beach Boys. From 2004’s Mars Loves Venus (Lil’ Chief Records), the lighthearted confessional “Loopy Loopy Love” scored with its catchy hooks and melodies.

Here was a band that was completely of a different musical era but had a strong enough sense of that music that they never came off as a novelty act. The Brunettes ran into the occasional bump in the road; technical issues with Bree’s guitar slowed the momentum of the show and it was clear that Mansfield was fighting a hoarse voice. These problems still weren’t enough to hold the band back. It was at these times when the garage band aspect of the Brunettes revealed itself.

Mansfield found her voice during a new song, a sweet tune bridging the Beach Boys and the Carpenters called "If I." It was during the menacing “Best Friend Envy” when the Brunettes really shined the brightest. Bree and Mansfield traded off haunting vocal parts that made the head spin and the body dance.

The songs played more as conversations with the crowd and less like stories; sometimes the dialog between Bree and Mansfield evoked the boy/girl melodrama the Brunettes are known for crafting.

In what had to have been the evening’s most amusing moment, the band showed off their theater skills by donning masks of two of America’s beloved flavors of the month: Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen. The song, “Mary Kate & Ashley,” was as hilarious as it was slightly disturbing. You kind of stop listening to the lyrics when six people wearing either a Mary Kate or Ashley Olsen mask are dancing around playing instruments on stage. But to the crowd the joke was well received.

The Brunettes charmed and delighted the crowd with their energy and genuine excitement. Clever songs and intriguing sounds make the Brunettes more than just your average band. As waves of disappointment were voiced throughout the crowd over the band’s decision to not perform a second encore, Bree shrugged his shoulders and frowned as he waved goodbye from the stage. Albeit a small gesture, it summed up the type of evening people had with the Brunettes; they simply didn’t want it to end.

All Photos By: Chris Castaneda

Robert Pollard @ Metro (3/31/2006)

“Fuck Coldplay,” scowled Robert Pollard from the stage inside Metro. Nearly twenty minutes south, Coldplay was ending its two-night residence at the United Center as the weekend's hottest ticket. But to the longtime leader of Guided By Voices, there was only one real show in town that night, and it was his.

Guided By Voices may be no more, but the arrogance and “what you see is what you get” attitude of that band lives on in the man that embodied the spirit. Bringing his solo show to Chicago for the first time since Guided By Voices disbanded on New Year’s Eve 2004 at Metro, Pollard came ready with a personal bucket of twenty-four chilled bottles of Miller Lite, a bottle of Jose Cuervo, and a brand new cast of characters to give sound to Pollard’s latest musical vision From A Compound Eye. Any notions that this new band was just a revamped version of Guided By Voices were quickly dispelled by Pollard. “This ain’t GBV,” said Pollard to the packed audience. “Now it’s whatever.”

As the group tore through songs like “I Surround You Naked,” “Maggie Turns To Flies,” and “I’m A Widow,” what was evident was the musicianship Pollard surrounded himself with: veteran popster Tommy Keene on guitar and keyboards, Dave Phillips on guitar, bassist Jason Narducy (Verbow, Rockets Over Sweden), and drummer Jon Wurster (Superchunk) brought a fresh dimension to Pollard’s massive catalog of songs. Pulling a track from Pollard’s 1998 album Waved Out, the assembled group gave new color to the song “Make Use” and transformed it into a rolling trance-like wave of power chords.

The 48-year-old Pollard still pulled off his teenage kicks, Pete Townshend leaps, and Roger Daltrey microphone twirls like there was no tomorrow. “It’s not a show,” declared Pollard, “It’s a fucking drunken wreck.” He even got security on edge as he defied the city’s no-smoking ordinance (aimed towards bars and clubs) by accepting lights from the front row and packages of cigarettes tossed onto the stage.

That statement may have been true in Pollard’s case (who actually took his drinks in moderation), but it wasn’t for the band. Over the course of two hours, the charge from song to song never let up a second. During “Love Is Stronger Than Witchcraft,” described by Pollard as his favorite new song, the band took off on the song’s Cheap Trick-esque stomp a la “High Roller.” Narducy locked in with Pollard for some of the most soulful vocal moments of the night. As Bob Mould’s bassist on his recent solo tour, Narducy provided Pollard a plate of harmonies that always seemed elusive in Guided By Voices.

The banter was still classic Pollard. At one point, Pollard took shots at the Flaming Lips for their cover of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody.” It was a crime in Pollard’s eyes what Wayne Coyne and company did to the song, but then let the crowd in on the joke by mentioning his love for Coyne. “I’m allowed to rip on anyone who sells more records than me,” explained Pollard to the crowd.

After an endurance fest of over thirty songs, Pollard returned for an encore to reward those who came to the show hoping for a little blast from the Guided By Voices past. “Girls Of Wild Strawberries” got the crowd’s lips wet, fists were thrust into the air to applaud “Gold Star For Robot Boy,” and fans threw arms around each other to sing along to “My Valuable Hunting Knife.”

The show’s finale seemed ironic since it was also the last song that Guided By Voices performed over a year ago under the same roof. Still, “Don’t Stop Now” filled every corner of Metro with voices singing in unison. In some ways, it has been Pollard’s musical mantra and as he proved on stage, he’s not even close to stopping.

All Photos By: Chris Castaneda

Extra! Extra!

The April issue of Chicago Innerview is now available online.

I have contributed a write-up on the Swedish rock band The Sounds. Here is a direct link to the page:

http://www.chicagoinnerview.com/archives/apr06_previewC.htm

For those in and around Chicago, the magazine will sponsor its monthly release party at The Darkroom on April 7. For more information, click "HAPPENINGS" on the magazine's main web page. The event is free.

Forever A Fan

On July 9, 2002, I first met Jim DeRogatis, rock critic for the Chicago Sun-Times, in a darkened parking lot outside one of the most beloved radio institutions in Chicago, WXRT. I could never have imagined that four years later I would call this gentleman from New Jersey a mentor and friend.

The introduction was simple: I was allowed to visit “Sound Opinions,” hosted by DeRogatis and Greg Kot of the Chicago Tribune, to offer my thanks for an autographed copy of Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot that I won in a contest sponsored by the WXRT show. The day I actually got the call from the show’s webmaster, Jason Saldanha, I was suffering from food poisoning. I was probably the least excited sounding winner over the telephone that he’s ever had to call.

On the previous week, before my first visit to the studio, I had called the show to defend the latest Oasis album Heathen Chemistry. Both Jim and Greg took the album to town, trashing it as a waste of time. I’d like to think I held my own by defending the album, even refreshing Jim’s memory about the final track on the band’s debut album Definitely Maybe. So, when I arrived to the WXRT studio, Jason was the first to greet me. It felt like a few seconds later when I met Jim. I shook his hand and mentioned the Wilco album I won in the contest. To put a voice with a face, I state I was the caller from last week who defended Oasis. “Well, somebody has to,” says Jim. That was the first remark he ever said to me; it wasn’t “Nice to meet you,” or “Thanks for listening to the show.”

My impression of Jim, notwithstanding the Oasis comment, was slightly shaped by a review of an R.E.M. concert in August 1999 at the New World Music Theatre (now some other god awful corporate name). I still remember reading the review in my kitchen and slamming my fist on the dining room table, exclaiming, “What fucking show did this guy see?” I still have the article in my closet. I’ve been meaning to have Jim autograph it for me…one day.

Meeting Jim face to face took me back a little. I was just starting out as a writer for my college newspaper at DePaul, and here I was meeting this seasoned veteran of journalism that’s already put down one of my favorite bands. It was intimidating to say the least.

Well, the evening with Jim and Greg turned out better than expected. I was invited to stay during the two-hour show and sit with them in the actual studio. Having been a listener to WXRT since I was probably seven years old I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Based on the fact I didn’t freak out Jim and Greg during the show, I was given the OK by executive producer Matt Spiegel to come back and visit anytime. Since that time I’ve become part of their worlds just as they became part of mine.

It was probably because I showed up so much—sometimes with Rice Krispy Treats or bootleg CDs—that after a year I was offered the title of production associate with “Sound Opinions" (Jim’s original title for me was Chief Aide de Camp) and given a spot on the moderating team for the show’s online message board. Greg honored me with a research assistant credit in his very first book called Wilco - Learning How To Die, a story about the Chicago-based rock band. Following the release of Greg’s book, Jim e-mailed me about a special project he wanted to involve me with. I printed out his e-mail and kept it folded in one of my textbooks as I went about my day of classes at DePaul. When it came time to finally call Jim and learn what this project he had in mind for me, I was cooking ham at my then-girlfriend’s apartment. “How are ya, Chris?” asked Jim over the phone. “I’m just cooking some ham,” I replied. “Well, you’re in college. You gotta eat something,” said Jim.

It was then when Jim asked me to be part of his book about the Flaming Lips, to transcribe interviews and fact check material. It wasn’t work I felt was beneath me. My work with Greg consisted of gathering specific Wilco bootlegs for his research. Here, I would be more involved in the writing process by working with Jim’s interviews with band members (past and present) and various associates of the band.

Working with Jim was always interesting. I probably learned more about him and from him while chatting with him as I sorted his mail bins of press kits. The first time I actually rode my bike from my home on the south side to Jim’s home near Wrigley Field continues to be a moment that doesn’t go away as a joke (“Hey Chris, did you ride your bike here?”).

Jim always seized the moment to educate me about a band or artist that he loved and that I needed in my collection. One such instance was when he went into complete shock that I wasn’t very familiar with John Cale, formerly of the Velvet Underground. “You call yourself a R.E.M. fan and don’t know John Cale?” exclaimed Jim from his desk. I was filing CDs into his vast library of a music collection when this discussion about John Cale came up. He proceeded to change the CD that was playing to Cale’s live album Fragments Of A Rainy Season within a split second. Suddenly this beautiful song filled the basement office area and my ears perked up. It was a song I once heard on an episode of The West Wing, a song performed by the late Jeff Buckley called “Hallelujah.” I learned that the song originated from Leonard Cohen and that, according to Jim, the Cale cover is far superior to Buckley’s version. Naturally, Jim made a copy of the CD for the simple reason I needed it in my life. Being the former record store employee, I could relate completely to what he must have been thinking the second I admitted to having never heard the Cale CD, “This is a great album that needs to be heard and you should have a copy.”

If I had to choose one lesson to take from my time spent with Jim, it would be that honesty is not always popular, and to say that Jim is blunt with his opinions would be sugarcoating things a little bit. The disagreements readers may have with his opinions stems from the fact that he’s being honest about what he thought about an album or a concert. You’re not doing your job as a critic if people are always agreeing with you 100% of the time. I’m sure Jim has his share of hate mail to prove to that point.

On the night of his Flaming Lips book party at the Abbey Pub, Jim showed yet another side of himself that I never really experienced. I showed up in support of the book I had a hand in and to offer Jim my congratulations for achieving his dream. I have to tip my hat to him; Jim’s had the opportunity to write about his rock critic hero, Lester Bangs, and one of his favorite bands in the Flaming Lips. If that’s not living the dream, then I don’t know what is.

Upon my arrival I discovered from another a fellow DeRo intern, Jenny Grandy, that Jim would be performing with a Lips tribute band called the Satellite Hearts. The band was selecting songs from the '80s and '90s era of the Flaming Lips that are never performed anymore. I was also brought onboard to handle a balloon drop that Jim would signal during one of the songs. Balloons aside, I was simply transfixed by the thought of Jim fronting a band instead of sitting behind the drums. For Jim, this is how he wanted to celebrate the book, through music instead of chapter excerpts.

But when Jim finally took to the stage with the band a little after midnight I readied myself from my side of the balcony. He transformed into exactly what he wrote about in the book; he became a fearless freak.

The microphone was gripped tightly in his hands as he launched into the first song. His voice was bellowing throughout the club, not containing a single care if he was singing out of key. It was like watching Jim pretend to be Wayne Coyne for a night. Whether it was screaming through a bullhorn or firing off confetti into the air, Jim proved he had strong notes when it came to recreating Coyne’s showmanship. I could tell from the crowd’s reaction to each song that Jim was going for the deep cuts that they’ve longed for the Lips to perform again. “Kim’s Watermelon Gun,” “Hit Me Like You Did The First Time,” “Turn It On,” and the show’s closer “She Don’t Use Jelly” were just some of the moments that caused a celebratory frenzy in the crowd.

I smiled as I watched Jim lean down from the stage and pitch the microphone to a fan standing directly in front. He had been singing word for word along with Jim the whole show. That gesture revealed the true spirit of the Flaming Lips that Jim tapped in to—that the band has remained an equal to their fans.

Jim is a constant reminder that no matter who—whether it's the band just a week old or the million-dollar band with private jets—there’s no such thing as free passes. If you speak with conviction and are honest with the facts, the readers will decide on their own whether the music is good or bad. Question his opinions, but what can never be questioned is his passion for the music. And for that I stand and applaud him wholeheartedly.

All Photos By: Chris Castaneda (Taken At The Abbey Pub, 3/25/2006)
Concert Artwork By: Chris Martiniano

The Minus 5 @ The Abbey Pub (3/22/2006)

Elbowroom was tight inside the Abbey Pub for the return of the Minus 5. Touring in support of the band’s latest, a self-titled album being referred to as The Gun Album, the Minus 5 delivered a set that celebrated all the band’s strong points after ten years together, from catchy lyrics to sweltering guitars.

For Scott McCaughey, the band’s mastermind and resident mad scientist of rock, it was his first time back to the Abbey Pub since Wilco supported McCaughey as the Minus 5 for two shows in April 2003 promoting Down With Wilco. McCaughey's return with the band also fell on a special day. Not only was it the birthday of McCaughey’s daughter, Nadine, but also the birthday of the one and only William Shatner…Captain Kirk! It was surely a sign that the stars were aligned to make the evening with the Minus 5 a good one.

Over the years, the Minus 5 lineup has included several notable musicians such as Robyn Hitchcock, John Wesley Harding, Wilco, and Robert Pollard. But Peter Buck of R.E.M. has remained the senior member of the band next to McCaughey. Along with guitarist John Ramberg and drummer Bill Rieflin (Ministry, R.E.M.), this current incarnation of the Minus 5 had plenty of muscle to flex at the Abbey Pub.

The band appeared loose on stage; hoots and hollers from the crowd would only fuel the band more. The celebratory air of “Twilight Distillery” later gave way to the somber “Where Will You Go?” McCaughey’s stage banter kept things lively in between songs. Before “Retrieval Of You,” he discussed the origin of the song, recalling that Jeff Tweedy of Wilco came up with the lyrical hook from a local store supposedly called DJ Mini Mart. “Is this true?” asked McCaughey. Someone from the crowd yells out in response, “He’s a liar!” Laughing, McCaughey seizes the moment by saying, “This song’s called ‘Jeff Tweedy Is A Liar!’”

The band’s newest material was given the rock ‘n’ roll treatment on stage. Songs like “Out There On The Maroon” and “With A Gun” became under-three-minute pop rockers. On record, Jeff Tweedy handled the guitar solo to “With A Gun.” McCaughey picked his sunburst Les Paul with ease as he played Tweedy’s part and made it his own.

“I finally got to show off my chops on lead guitar,” said McCaughey after the song. “There was an article when we played in Portland a couple of weeks ago that said I had ‘chops.’ Never has an article been so wrong.”

If they weren’t blasting on all cylinders on songs like “You Don’t Mean It” and “Ghost Tarts Of Stockholm,” the Minus 5 would detour with covers by the Undertones (“Teenage Kicks”), Johnny Cash (“I Still Miss Someone”), and Bob Seger (“Mary Lou”). Ramberg and McCaughey would push each other on guitar, striking up manic solos; Rieflin would sound like a pack of elephants stampeding the African terrain while Buck played it cool and calm on the bass (a completely different side from his role in R.E.M.).

What was undeniable throughout the show was how much fun the band was having on stage. After the speeding “Aw Shit Man,” the Minus 5 made the encore their last stand. Kicking off with “Circle Sky” by the Monkees, the Minus 5 smoked through “Over The Sea” before going utterly insane with the 60s garage classic “Strychnine” by the Sonics.

On a Wednesday night, the audience was loud, the drinks were flowing, and the Minus 5 simply rocked. As McCaughey put it in song, “I never want to lose the days of wine and booze.” Cheers!

All Photos By: Chris Castaneda

In The Crowd

Peter Buck
of
The Minus 5 @ Mercy Lounge
(3/19/2006)
Nashville, TN





Photo By: Chris Castaneda

In The Crowd

Wilco @ Ryman Auditorium (3/17/2006) Nashville, TN

Photo By: Chris Castaneda

Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins @ Park West (3/14/2006)

It took seventeen years, but I finally stood in the same room with Jenny Lewis.

Surrounded by mostly young women at the Park West, I had to set aside the boyhood crush I had on Lewis back when I was eight years old, watching her co-star with Fred Savage in the Nintendo inspired movie The Wizard (1989). I was now the critic, and she was the seasoned musician on stage.

As the front woman for the L.A. group Rilo Kiley, Lewis has steadily gained respect in and around the indie music scene as being the real deal, not just another former Hollywood star trying to be the rock star. And on her first solo album, Rabbit Fur Coat, Lewis has proven herself capable of standing on her own two feet. She has removed herself from her Rilo Kiley songwriting partner, Blake Sennett, and has written a collection of songs that not only play to her vocal talents but also shed more light on her strengths as her own songwriter.

Strolling out under the lights inside Park West, Lewis resembled a young Loretta Lynn from head to toe, decked out in a dress straight out of Coal Miner’s Daughter with Sissy Spacek. Following behind Lewis were Chandra and Leigh, the Watson twins. In matching black v-neck dresses, the Watson twins took their positions behind their microphones almost as if they were levitating on air. The response by the capacity crowd brought a look of modest surprise to Lewis' face. It was as if her recent success going solo was still sinking in. As soon as she opened her mouth and that voice filled the room, the crowd was in her hands.

Drawing on much of her solo album, Lewis and her band performed with such high intensity that any thoughts they might slip into old routines from previous shows were erased.

“The Big Guns” caused the dance floor to suddenly erupt with stomping feet; the coy wink of “The Charging Sky” flooded the crowd with random thoughts ranging from the “sure fire bet” of death to a father “growing Bob Dylan’s beard.” The backing vocals by the Watson twins were by no means a gimmick; they could have easily been the showcase equivalent of the dancing entourage that follows Gwen Stefani. The twins brought out different colors to the songs and gave them a dreamy atmosphere that provided Lewis with plenty of room to stretch the music.

One such moment where Lewis really let loose was during a new song, described by Lewis as a “love story,” called “Jack Killed Mom” (the woman certainly has some wit). Lewis sat behind a keyboard and took this soulful tune for a ride with the band, transforming it into a powerhouse song that was textbook Ray Charles.

Jenny Lewis didn’t just wake up one morning and decide to transform herself into a pop-country artist backed by twins; this was music already inside her soul. What she accomplished at the Park West was introduce a brand new facet to her creativity that may not have been given an open road in Rilo Kiley to freely roam. She’s not asking the listening audience to take sides. She’s merely saying, “Hey, I can do this, too.” With a beer in one hand and an acoustic guitar in the other, Jenny Lewis took one step closer to becoming the complete artist that she’s working to be.

All Photos By: Chris Castaneda

Extra! Extra!

The March issue of Chicago Innerview is now available online.

I have contributed a feature article on The Minus Five:

http://www.chicagoinnerview.com/archives/mar06_minus_five.htm

Check out my complete interview with Scott McCaughey of The Minus Five in the previous post here on Getting In Tune.

The Thirsty Bird Of The Pacific Northwest Speaks: Q & A With Scott McCaughey Of The Minus 5

It has been three years since Scott McCaughey and I chatted over the phone for an interview. The last time was a month prior to his appearance at the Abbey Pub in April 2003 to perform with Wilco as the latest version of McCaughey's band The Minus 5, a band which he and Peter Buck of R.E.M. started.

The album he was promoting at the time was going to be called Down With Wilco as a joke referring to all the trouble Wilco went through privately and publicly the previous two years; the band's problems were a laundry list filled with major label rejection, band members fired, and a finished album called Yankee Hotel Foxtrot waiting for an official release.

Now, three years later, McCaughey returns this month with The Minus 5 for a show at the Abbey Pub. The band's new album The Minus Five (aka The Gun Album) was recently released on February 7 by Yep Roc Records. In an interview for the March issue of Chicago Innerview (now available), McCaughey and I chatted on a grey Sunday (2/12) afternoon about the new album, his partnership with Peter Buck, and the true value of his autograph.

Chris Castaneda: Of all the songs on the album, "Cemetery Row" is my absolute favorite. It's a song that's as good as anything R.E.M. has written. How did Colin Meloy of The Decemberists become involved with that song?

Scott McCaughey: I was lucky he was able to sing it. It would have been okay if I sang it, but I wasn’t really happy with my vocal on it; it was a difficult song for me to sing because I was a co-writer. I wrote the words to it but didn’t write the melody. It was a little challenging for my limited vocal capabilities. Then I thought, “Colin’s voice would sound great on this.” He was happy to come over and do it the day before he was leaving on a tour with The Decemberists. It came out great.

CC: How did the album come together?

SM: It’s kind of a typical Minus 5 story, sit-in sessions in between other stuff. The first tracks that were recorded were “With A Gun” and “Hotel Senator,” which I did in Chicago with Wilco on a day off from the R.E.M. tour (Fall 2004). “Original Luke” and “Bought A Rope” I recorded with my buddies in Oregon. John Moen played drums--he’s the drummer in The Decemberists now and Stephen Malkmus and The Jinks. I’ve known him for a long time. His old band The Dharma Bums were really good friends with The Young Fresh Fellows; we toured a lot together. I basically used three of those guys, and we did some songs in a living room on an 8-track.

The rest of them were Bill (Rieflin), Peter (Buck), John (Ramberg), and I whenever we had a couple of weeks off from R.E.M. stuff. We would do a session in Seattle where we would do four or five songs and pick the best out of those; the songs I really wanted on the record that went together conceptually and lyrically. These were the ones I felt really had to be on the record. It’s kind of the typical piecemeal approach of The Minus 5, but I think it sounds really cohesive.

Kurt (Bloch) and I mixed it all together at the same time. I think the songs flow pretty well together. The sound is compatible, even the ones that were done in different studios. With Minus 5 stuff—especially the last couple of years when R.E.M. has been so busy—we have to pick out spots when we can work on a record. It all came together pretty quickly once the R.E.M. tour was over.

CC: Has there ever been a time when The Minus 5 had the time to sit down and make an album on some kind of schedule?

SM: Not really. [Laughs] The closest would be In Rock (re-released in 2004 by Yep Roc); we basically recorded that in a day, and then I added some overdubs at home, later, and mixed really, really quickly. That’s not a scheduled one where you record the whole album in a day. Down With Wilco was probably as close to that where I had five straight days in the studio and another four a couple months later. We’ve never really had that…it would be pretty amazing if we had a couple of weeks or a month to go do a record from start to finish. That would be pretty amazing, but we never really had that opportunity.

CC: Basically you take the time you can get. Right?

SM: Yeah. It’s funny because I’ve probably spent more time in the studio on the last couple R.E.M. records than I have all The Young Fresh Fellows and Minus 5 records put together. It’s kind of ridiculous but that’s just the way it works. I wouldn’t want to take as long as it takes to do an R.E.M. record though. I don’t think I could do that, to get myself to operate on that time schedule.

CC: What was the earliest song written?

SM: “Twilight Distillery” is definitely the earliest. We’ve actually been playing that song live for four or five years. I remember not wanting to put it on Down With Wilco because I’d been playing it already with the band, with Peter, Bill, and John. I thought we should record that one together. We actually ended up recording two versions of it. The first session we did, last December, with Bill, John, and Peter for this record, we did “Twilight Distillery” and banged it out. But we had been playing it for so long that it had gotten really revved up, really rocking. It was really good; we did it in one take. We had time to reassess because we went back on the road with R.E.M. for four months until the next session.

I might have played it for Wes (John Wesley Harding). He did some backing vocals on the early versions. He talked about how it got rocked out and was really fast. When we first starting doing it with Wes, it was more Dylan-y and a little more folk rock. We thought the version was really cool, but we thought it would be cool to slow it back down again. So, we ended up re-cutting it at the last session for this record and decided that was the version to go with. I’ll definitely release the other version, the rocker, because it’s really cool. But this version, the folk one, was the right one for the record.

CC: You toured with John Wesley Harding and Dag Juhlin of Poi Dog Pondering as the All-Male Threesome in the summer of 2004. Some of the new album appeared in your sets. The sweetness and simplicity that came across in your solo performances from that tour really carried over to the album.

SM: The performances are a lot simpler, a lot more direct; there’s less going on in a way. This record has a lot more songs that are just kind of, “We just played this song, and now it’s done” [Laughs], whereas with Down With Wilco there’s a lot of crazy shit on there. We didn’t really go into it thinking it was going to be that way. Jeff (Tweedy) really encouraged me to keep that record simple, but I probably ended up ladling on some extra things just ‘cause I had time. I think it came out fantastic; I love the way it came out.

We made more of a conscious decision to keep this one pretty straightforward just as far as being songs you perform and sing and people can just hear them as songs. I didn’t blend all the songs together like I tend to do lots of times on records where I run one into each other and they overlap and make little sweeps. The songs all go together. To me, they sort of tell a story, but I tried to keep it just a little more direct. It’s kind of an old-fashioned record for me.

CC: What songs on this album really pleased you in terms of traveling from the demo stage to final mix?

SM: That’s hard to say. I guess “Out There On the Maroon” is one that came out kind of exactly like I envisioned it to come out. That’s sort of rare; that doesn’t happen very often. I felt like that one was played the way I hoped we would play it; we did a mix of it that sounded like just how I wanted it to sound. That’s one that came out really, really nicely. Lots of times you envision a song a certain way and it comes out completely different, and that can be great! But that one came out just as I thought it should. That’s a good feeling.

I think “Bought A Rope” came out really good. That was one where I really didn’t know what it would sound like. I wasn’t sure about the arrangement; even the chords got simplified when I ended up recording with John, Eric (Lovre) and Jim Talstra. We did it on an 8-track, and somehow it still ended up sounding really amazing. It might have sounded amazing because of that. I really had no idea how that one would turn out. I’m happy with all of them.

CC: Does the album come out in March?

SM: It came out on Tuesday. I’ll be getting those big SoundScan figures in a few days. [Laughs]

CC: Now, John Wesley Harding has already worked within The Minus 5 world. Chicago's own Kelly Hogan makes her first appearance on a Minus 5 album. What track did you use them on?

SM: “Twilight Distillery.” They’re doing the backing vocals on there, which were great. I recorded them when Kelly was on tour with Wes for the Love Hall Tryst tour. When they played in Portland I went down, took my laptop and a microphone to the Econo Lodge they were staying at and recorded them doing backing vocals in about a half hour to an hour. Kelly (Hogan) never heard the song before, but she’s so damn good; she just nailed it. She’s the greatest.

CC: How was it working with Wilco this time around? They appear notably on "With A Gun."

SM: It was awesome. Back when Wilco played as the Minus 5 after Down With Wilco came out I had just written that song; we learned it and played it at those shows. So, I just knew I had to record it with them. When we recorded we hadn’t played for six months, but everyone remembered what they were doing on it. It’s all live, even the vocals. The only overdubs on it are Jeff’s multiple lead guitars. It was on a day off on the R.E.M. tour. Peter came down and played; he played 12-string. So, it was Wilco with Peter and me; it’s just a live performance.

The only thing that I always intended to add was Jesse Greene because she played violin on it. Leroy (Bach) had quit the band since we last played together. He wasn’t around. He did this cool thing when we would play it live where he would start the song with these handclaps. It was really cool. I could have put it on, but I wasn’t going to put it on unless Leroy does it. We were never able to get that together. I just left it the way it was; I didn’t want to have someone else playing violin or doing the handclaps. I think it came out great. That’s a really rare thing for me to use a live vocal in the studio because I usually think they kind of suck ‘cause I’m not that good of a singer. For some reason, we really captured it.

CC: After all these years you're still really self-conscious about your voice?

SM: Well, I’m pretty used to it. I don’t mean to be denigrating my vocal talents so much. I just know they’re fairly limited. I’ve come to work with that. With The Minus 5, I’ve always kind of been interested in having other people sing the songs. Whenever I try to do it I am usually met with resistance. The guys I play with seem to think I should just sing it. When I said I was thinking of getting someone else to sing “Cemetery Row,” I don’t think Peter and Bill really liked the idea. But when they heard it they thought it was probably the right idea since Colin did such a great job. They weren’t really into it at first.

On Down With Wilco, I wanted John Stirratt to sing lead on a couple of songs; I wanted Jeff to sing lead on some. Jeff did “Family Gardener,” but he wasn’t for spreading the vocals around that much; he thought I should sing the songs. Usually, I’m lucky to get one other person per record to sing a song. I got Ken Stringfellow to sing one on Let The War Against Music Begin (2001), he sang “A Thousand Years Away.” I’d like to do more of that. I like singing them, too. [Laughs] But I think it’s fun to get other voices on there.

CC: You must have loved it when Tweedy began to incorporate “Dear Employer” early on into his solo shows. He sort of debuted the song in Chicago at his solo shows at the Vic Theatre in January '03.

SM: That was thrilling! It was amazing when I heard him playing it in Chicago and the whole crowd singing along with him at the end.

CC: Was this album easy to record compared to Down With Wilco? Wilco seemed like the black sheep of albums at that time. You and the band had a session in Chicago the day before the World Trade Center attack on September 11, and then later on the album faced a delayed release.

SM: That was pretty fucked up, that’s for sure. I couldn’t say this was an easy one. I guess compared to that we didn’t go through any of the traumas with the record company. I was kind of going through a lot of shit. The R.E.M. touring was pretty grueling in a way; it was super fun, the music was amazing, but it was really, really long. I think for Bill, Peter, and I it was a difficult time in a lot of ways. When it came down to the actual recording of it, yes, it was easy. Kurt did a fantastic job in the studio. Everything just sounded good.

CC: One of the new songs is called "All Worn Out." Is that the best description of how you must have felt after the R.E.M. tour?

SM: Ummm…yeah. [Laughs] I really liked the way it came out, too. We played it once or twice and it sounded really cool. Peter said, “All you need to put on this is to get someone to play pedal steel on the chorus.” Ok! [Laughs] That’s what I did, and it was great. I love how it sounds.

CC: The Minus 5 has been around for ten years now. Is my math right?

SM: The first record came out in ’95, Old Liquidator. I think it came out in Germany first in ’95, and then maybe it was January ’96 when it came out in the U.S. Peter and I probably started working on it in ’93. That was recorded very piecemeal as well in typical Minus 5 fashion; we set the template up right there—recording with people whenever certain people were in town in between tours. [Laughs]

CC: I certainly don't know the story, and I don't remember asking you the last time we chatted. But how did you and Peter Buck meet?

SM: I probably met him in ’85 or ’86. I can’t remember if I met him at an R.E.M. show or if it was Peter coming to a Young Fresh Fellows show in Athens. I’m not really sure where the initial thing started. We started seeing each other at shows. I knew he bought our records. I think I met him outside an R.E.M. show and gave him The Squirrels record we had just released. Then he would come to our shows in Athens. We didn’t really start hanging out until ’92 when R.E.M. was recording Automatic For The People in Seattle.

CC: How's the relationship grown musically?

SM: It’s been awesome. He and I just love playing music together. We’ve played in so many bands together now, not just R.E.M., but The Minus 5 and Tuatara. We’ve done records with a lot of other people. We did the Mark Eitzel. We’re doing a Robyn Hitchcock record right now, and we’re going to do the next John Wesley Harding record, it’s going to be as The Minus 5. We just love doing that; we love backing other people. He and I also almost always demo his stuff for R.E.M. together. Whenever he’s got new music for a song he and I usually record it together, and that’s really exciting. He’s just a great guy to play music with. He plays bass in The Minus 5 all the time, but it’s funny when we back up someone else and he’ll play 12-string and I’ll play bass. We’re pretty versatile with each other. It’s a cool thing.

We did that whole record where he wrote the music and I wrote the words, The Lonesome Death of Buck McCoy (1997), and that was a really good experience for me because I had never really done that before. It was really difficult for me, but it was a good experience. I probably got a little better at doing that through that. For instance, “Cemetery Row” was a song where someone gave me the music and I really had no problem writing the right words for it. Probably a lot of that was because of learning how to do that with Peter.

He comes up with way more stuff than R.E.M. could possibly use. There’s usually 15 or 20 that he gives to R.E.M. with every record that end up not used. There are tons of great tracks with no vocals on them from the last three R.E.M. albums. Oh my god, there’s some amazing stuff from Up (1998), stuff that I think is so fucking great. We had tons and tons of material for that record. Some of them Michael (Stipe) just didn’t quite finish, but we recorded so much stuff. There are some really cool instrumentals from that record.

CC: How else has Peter broadened your horizons?

SM: Peter almost has this sense of duty to do something good. He just has certain standards to live up to; he’s very conscious about putting out something good. I won’t say that’s necessarily a new thing for me; I wouldn’t set out only to put out crappy stuff. His kind of attitude is that he’s a musician and he works. I find that really inspiring because I’ve always thought I was a musician by luck, by chance. I feel like I don’t have to apologize for being a musician. This is what I do; I like to work, we want to work hard, and we want to make good music. I get a lot of that from Peter.

His guitar playing is so precise and so melodic. I could say the same thing about Mike Mills from playing with him. He’s really taught me a lot about keyboard playing. I’ve probably changed how I play the organ, especially, from Mills teaching me stuff he had put on record.

CC: The band is keeping it simple as just the four-piece with you, Peter, Bill Rieflin on drums, and John Ramberg on guitar. What can we expect from this upcoming Minus 5 tour?

SM: Rock ‘n’ Roll with The Minus 5. [Laughs] Lots of times Peter and I go out and sign stuff afterwards, which is great, not that anybody cares if I sign it, but people seem to like to get his autograph. [Laughs]

Photo Taken July 10, 2004 At The Club Cafe, Pittsburgh, PA

The M's @ Empty Bottle (2/24/2006)

The M's wasted no time in getting their record release party for Future Women underway at the Empty Bottle. The clock may have read 12:30am, but to The M's, it was by no means bedtime.

With just two albums under the band's belt (the latest being released three days prior), The M's are already in a class of their own. The quartet is considered to be one of the top up and coming bands in Chicago and have quickly captured the praise of their peers (Wilco, Broken Social Scene). They may not be an overnight success story, but for The M's it's better to have a career of substance than to suddenly become everybody's IT band. The M's seem to find the right step to take them forward.

In concert, The M's definitely know how to create a show. You never know when a giant robot may suddenly appear in the crowd. For this special night, The M's invited local musicians to add some extra color to their sound. Backed by a horn and string section, The M's took advantage of all the space they could find on the cramped stage; Poi Dog Pondering violinist Susan Voelz and Poi Dog alumnus Dave Max Crawford on horns led their respective sections.

Drawing greatly from their latest album Future Women, The M's racked up a setlist that brought the album to life on stage.

The band sounded eager and excited as it launched into the first new song, "Mansion In The Valley." Drummer Steve Versaw almost seemed like a chariot rider with Josh Chicoine, Joey King, and Robert Hicks as the band's horses; the harder Versaw worked his drums, the more his three bandmates responded with furious interplay.

"Never Do This Again" transported the crowd inside the Empty Bottle back to 1976 with its T.Rex take-no-prisoners guitar assault; the band's mini-orchestra took the spotlight during the acoustic "Light I Love," by far the band's best song from Future Women. Just as the band has grown, so to has the band's early material like "Banishment Of Love" and the soulful epic "Break Our Bones."

The vocal trio consisting of Chicoine, King, and Hicks never missed a beat. The Redwalls, favorite sons of Deerfield, IL, may get the attention with their almost pitch perfect Beatle-esque harmonies, but The M's give those British Invasion harmonies a twist, making The M's a more captivating, devilish sound with edge and less imitation. The M's hooked the crowd and never let them go. Fans screamed out requests for new songs like "Trucker Speed" and "Underground." It was a true sign that whatever The M's are doing, they are certainly turning heads with their music.

The M's may not have Chicago and the rest of the world in the palm of their hands, but they sure played like they did.

All Photos By: Chris Castaneda

Autumn Defense @ Schubas (2/23/2006)

On their second to last show of a winter tour, John Stirratt and Pat Sansone brought Autumn Defense back to Schubas for a sold out evening. The duo have been road testing new material for a follow-up to their second album Circles (2003).

With Wilco on break, Stirratt and Sansone found the time to put together a small 14 city tour. Over the years, Autumn Defense has become a hot ticket at Schubas. People lined up from the showroom entrance to the bar's front door, some even asking patrons sipping their drinks if extra tickets were available.

By 10pm, Autumn Defense strolled onto the cluttered stage and began their set. The band, mostly a three-piece on this tour with drummer Greg Wiz, welcomed John Pirruccello on pedal steel and Steve Tyska on trumpet. The inclusion of these musicians definitely made for a richer sound on stage. Seated upon wooden stools, Stirratt and Sansone were in fine form. "The Sun In California" provided some warmth to a crowd that has endured another Chicago winter. It was fitting that a song like "Written In The Snow" soon followed.

The band hit its stride during a performance of "Bluebirds Fall." The song originated from a split EP called Birds, Beasts, & Flowers (2004) that the band was featured on along with the Brooklyn-based band Hem. At the time of its release, "Bluebirds Fall" really displayed the band's most ambitious arrangement. Stirratt and Sansone's vocals beautifully balanced one another, moving together as if dancing.

The band spread out about seven new songs throughout the set, each well-received by the crowd. Of the new songs, one in particular called "Feel You Now" rose above the rest. If you were to close your eyes, Stirratt's voice could have been mistaken for singer Ben Gibbard of Death Cab For Cutie. But it was that small twist by Stirratt that gave the song a fresh performance.

The band continued the running joke that every band is faced with when playing the small stage at Schubas: there's nowhere to disappear to before an encore. Wiz remained at his drums as the rest of the band moved towards the stage steps. He was thinking what most of the crowd was thinking--play one more song. Sure enough, with time permitting, Autumn Defense returned and gave the crowd a song from Stirratt's Wilco past to send them into the night. Reaching back to Wilco's first album A.M., Stirratt led the band through "It's Just That Simple," the only Wilco song on which he has ever sung lead vocals.

The evening served as a perfect preview to what Autumn Defense has in store for its fans in the coming months. Stirratt and Sansone manage to keep on making the quietest, romantic noise you'll ever hear.

All Photos By: Chris Castaneda

Play Or Nay

The M's - Future Women (Polyvinyl)

The M's are quickly becoming the Dr. Strangelove of rock music. Like the many personalities brought to life by Peter Sellers in Stanley Kubrick's 1964 film, The M's grab hold of the voices and set them up against music that is as butt-shakin' as it is menacing.

The Chicago band's sophomore album Future Women takes leaps forward from their 2004 self-titled debut. The M's don't run away from their strengths here, but the hunger to branch further out musically takes center stage. The three-part vocals by guitarists Josh Chicoine and Robert Hicks and bassist Joey King come more into their own, providing even more muscle to the band's wall of sound attack. What each voice brings to the microphone transforms into this singular discombobulated head with drummer Steve Versaw stampeding from behind.

Future Women maintains that drunken looseness from the debut album but spotlights some maturity. Some might say, "I don't want my band to become mature." Well, the lucky bands find a way to ride maturity towards new roads they never thought possible. The bands that try and fight it are really kidding themselves and soon fall off the map. Grow up or die trying, and The M's welcome the growth. Two prime examples of this are "Light I Love" and the album's title track "Future Women."

On "Light I Love," string arrangements by Dave Max Crawford (formerly of Poi Dog Pondering) turn this simple acoustic-driven tune into possibly the best song on the album. It's a gentle, bittersweet tune, featuring violinist Susan Voelz of Poi Dog Pondering that showcases more of the acoustic side of The M's. Rivaling that song is "Future Women," a song just as good as anything The Flaming Lips have written. For some reason, the image of Humpty Dumpty marching along a road in Hell to a strip joint comes to mind when listening to this song. Twisted? Sure. Fun? Definitely. The M's paint a dreamy world filled with these strange yet welcoming sounds that somehow all make sense.

But The M's don't hold back on the nastier rockers. "Never Do This Again" turns back the clock to T. Rex and Cheap Trick; the guitar bombardment comes from every angle. "Underground" can sum up any crazy Saturday night in Chicago onboard some late night El train. It sort of pays homage to The Jam's classic song "Down In The Tube Station At Midnight" with its train-like guitar rhythm.

The fuzzed up potential The M's showed on its debut album has become reality on Future Women. The songwriting team of Chicoine, King, Versaw, and Hicks has to be considered one of the best out there in music right now among young bands finding their feet. Future Women wraps up imagination, mystery, and sheer joy all into one, something any good album should deliver from the first note to the final fade.

Extra! Extra!

The following is a link to my published review of last night's Jeff Tweedy show at Otto's Niteclub in DeKalb, IL:

http://www.dekalb-chronicle.com/articles/2006/02/21/news/news05.txt

Enjoy!

Bob Mould @ Old Town School of Folk Music (2/17/2006)

The concert hall at the Old Town School of Folk Music on Lincoln Ave. provides a very intimate and relaxed atmosphere for concertgoers. For Bob Mould, the hall was completely removed from the rock show experience. Armed with an acoustic and electric guitar, Mould delighted the crowd with a passionate performance that not only was inspiring, but raw.

The small setting inside Old Town puts the performer closer to the audience; it's like a large living room. Every move the performer makes on that stage can be heard in every corner of the hall. It also sets a mood where the performer feels the audience almost as if they too were on stage. After a two-night run at Metro last September, Mould returned to Chicago unaccompanied by a band. As he began his show, Mould scanned the venue with wide-eyed amazement. He was thirsty. Had there been no microphone on stage with him, the way in which Mould attacked with his voice would have been enough to reach every seat.

Mould tapped into his wide catalog of songs, ranging from Hüsker Dü and Sugar to his solo work. But for anyone in the crowd that attended any of Mould's Metro shows, the setlist didn't veer too far from the standard set Mould has been performing. Still, Mould hit the ground running from the beginning.

Mould barely spoke a word at Metro, since each song came blasting one after another. As he stood at the microphone inside Old Town, a completely different Mould turned up. His voice lumbered through "Hoover Dam" and "See A Little Light." His bouncing good spirits came across not only through his command on stage but his talkative banter with the crowd. Mould let down his guard and opened up to the crowd. He joked about his recent troubles with airlines handling his guitars and praised the work of an Evanston music shop for designing a brand new case. He also poked fun at himself. Mould mentioned he noticed a concert date for Richie Havens to appear at Old Town soon. Mould spoke highly of Havens as a guitarist, especially with a 12-string acoustic. The joke was clear as Mould tuned his own acoustic and programmed his effects panel to reproduce the sound of a 12-string acoustic.

The stripped down feel to songs like "High Fidelity" and Hüsker Dü's "Hardly Getting Over It" glowed perfectly in the room. You could see it on Mould's face that even he knew he was having a good night.

He soon switched over to his blue Fender Stratocaster for a mini-electric guitar set. Mould openned the set with two songs from his latest solo album Body Of Song. "Circles" and "Paralyzed" cut the air like razors, changing the mood of the room. It was like watching Mould go from painting to gearing up a chainsaw. The electric guitar brought out the defiant punk full of fire that still boils hot inside him all these years later. After mixing it up between Sugar tunes ("Your Favorite Thing," "If I Can't Change Your Mind") and a Hüsker Dü favorite ("Celebrated Summer"), Mould soon bowed down before the standing ovation from the crowd and exited the stage.

Mould continues to make growing up sound really good.

All Photos By: Chris Castaneda

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club @ Metro (2/8/2006)

Lin Brehmer, veteran DJ of WXRT, stood at the microphone like a pillar of musical integrity before a sold-out audience at Metro. "Right now, awards are being handed out for the worst music America has to offer," said Brehmer sternly. What he was referring to was the 48th annual Grammy Awards that was currently underway out in Los Angeles, CA, the music industry's big night out. It was clear from the volume of cheers that the audience knew exactly what Brehmer was talking about. "Here's the best rock 'n' roll America has to offer," said Brehmer about the band about to take the stage. That band was Black Rebel Motorcycle Club.

It was just five years ago when this San Francisco band was considered to be one of the hottest rock bands on the scene. On the trio's 2001 self-titled debut album, the buzz was ignited with the take-no-prisoners attack of "Whatever Happened To My Rock 'N' Roll (Punk Song)" and further backed up by songs like "Love Burns" and "Red Eyes And Tears." The band was later handpicked by Noel Gallagher of Oasis to fill the support slot on Oasis' 2002 tour. But following the band's second album, Take Them On, On Your Own (2003), Virgin Records, the band's label, released Black Rebel Motorcycle from their stable of artists. In the blink of an eye, Peter Hayes, Robert Levon Been, and Nick Jago were without a record label and were faced with the looming question mark surrounding the band's future.

2005 saw the band return with Howl (RCA), a major detour from The Jesus & Mary Chain swamp of fuzz soaked guitars that dominated Black Rebel Motorcycle Club's first two albums. In many ways, Howl was the breath of fresh air that the band desperately needed if they were to continue as a band. Who knew a couple of acoustic guitars, a touch of piano, and a trombone could rescue a band from a creative dead end?

Making it evident that B.R.M.C. is a changed band, the set's first four songs came from Howl. There was a cryptic mood in the room as "Restless Sinner" opened the night; the stage lights were barely raised to a level that would make the band members completely visible. The hymn-like song cried in the shadows of Metro, uncovering a well of soul that was always there within the band but went unnoticed beneath the chainsaw frenzy of guitars. The band balanced a strong mix of new and old favorites making their stage presentation a much more full experience. The stomp of "Ain't No Easy Way" in all of it's Led Zeppelin-esque glory steamrolled with Hayes blowing away on harmonica; "Love Burns" prowled like a stalker; "Promise" tapped into the essence of Sam Cooke's blend of gospel with the same passion they put into their trademark anthem "Whatever Happened To My Rock 'N' Roll (Punk Song)."

A smile crossed Hayes' face during "Sympathetic Noose" as he looked over at Been during a solo, a rarity for Hayes whose brooding demeanor almost never waivers. It was as if they could sense the new freedom provided by the path they choose to take musically. The dark times were behind them. Now, they were having fun being a band. A roadie dressed up in a bear costume and ran across the stage to change guitars for Hayes. Been caught a glimpse of the roadie, cracked a laugh, and took a friendly swipe at the roadie with his leg. It was a lighthearted moment that anyone watching the band five years ago probably would not have seen.

Call it a reinvention of sound, but what B.R.M.C. demonstrated was a fearlessness to explore what maturity could offer as inspiration. The influences go beyond just The Jesus & Mary Chain and My Bloody Valentine. Before the band even played a note, Johnny Cash could be heard playing throughout Metro's speakers. If that's not enough of a sign B.R.M.C. have embraced their other musical tastes that were overlooked by critics and listeners, then who knows what would be. Almost encapsulating this fresh chapter of the band's career, Been started off the encore with a B-side called "Mercy," a song which Been admitted to never before playing live. Alone on stage with an acoustic guitar, Been sang with such gentleness and care you would almost forget this was the same man whom thrashed on his bass during "Six Barrel Shotgun."

Five years ago, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club asked whatever happened to their rock 'n' roll. What eventually happened was they became faced with themselves and were forced to question what they had become instead what happened to the music they loved. It seems now, years later, they have found their answers and their true rock 'n' roll.

All Photos By: Chris Castaneda