What can possibly be revealed about James Marshall Hendrix that hasn’t already been articulated? Electrified innovator. Arguably the greatest axe slinger of all time. A guitar god gone too soon. An indelible legacy that will live forever. But even the most exalted of rock icons needs a fresh coat of paint, and this spring Jimi gets one thanks to an all-star tour of retro rockers and new-schooled six-string heroes.

Appearing: Thursday, March 18th at Chicago Theatre in Chicago.

Enter Experience Hendrix, the biennial, multi-act bill that turns four this year, channeling its namesake’s genius through a marathon evening of individual snippet sets, one-of-a-kind collaborations, and an almighty jam session or two just to amplify the subject’s superiority. And we’re not just talking some questionable cover band, but a laundry list of remarkably authentic disciples, including Joe Satriani, Jonny Lang, Hubert Sumlin, Eric Johnson, Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Aerosmith’s Brad Whitford, Doyle Bramhall II, the Isley Brothers’ Ernie Isley, Living Colour, Double Trouble’s Chris Layton, Sacred Steel featuring Robert Randolph, Susan Tedeschi, Los Lobos’ David Hidalgo and Cesar Rosas, plus The Jimi Hendrix Experience and Band Of Gypsys’ Billy Cox.

“The tour itself is just a fantastic coming together of talent, focus, and heart from everybody loving the music of Hendrix helping bring it together,” says Satriani, a headliner in his own right. “It’s difficult getting people from all parts of the music world to play together and pull it off, but the thing I love so much about Jimi’s music is that even though it was written so many years ago, it’s continuously unifying. We’re all incredible fans on the tour and I think that magic hangs over everybody. It makes everybody pull together and complement each other the best they can, but quite frankly, we’re all interested in checking each other out as well. It’s a dream come true to be a fan and entertainer at the same time.”

Another major player in the mutual admiration society is 28-year-old Lang, who, despite his relative youth, has performed with The Rolling Stones, B.B. King, Buddy Guy, and Aerosmith. Even with all those highlights, he cites the Hendrix tour as the ultimate destination for his technical prowess and unmistakable charisma.

“The biggest thing I draw from him is just his sense of melody and his approach is so much different than a lot of guitarists,” Lang contends. “I obviously didn’t know him, but it seems to me like he approached it from a melodic side rather than just trying to play fast riffs. Aside from being a great virtuoso, he was a genius musically. You hear a lot of innovation in his melodies, especially for that time, and in the overall structure of his songs.”

While the majority of the artists were too young to ever collaborate with Hendrix or even meet him personally, Ernie Isley didn’t just know the man behind the music, but they lived in the same house from 1963 to ‘65, just prior to finding global fame. While it’s common knowledge to faithful fans, a lot of casual listeners might not realize Hendrix played guitar on tour for the Isleys during that time frame.

“Their guitar player at the time quit and my bother O’Kelly tracked him down,” recalls Isley, who was in junior high at the time and hadn’t yet joined the family troupe. “O’Kelly said, ‘Can you play something for me?’ and Jimi said, ‘I can’t because my guitar is in the pawn shop.’ So they went down to the pawn shop and got the guitar back, but it turned out Jimi didn’t have strings because he was broke. So O’Kelly got him strings and within three minutes, it was obvious he had the chops. So he came on board, but didn’t have a place to stay, which is when he moved in with us.”

Although Hendrix’s talents were undeniable, his actual instrument was a little scruffy, according to Isley, which prompted O’Kelly to buy him a new one. “Jimi asked for a white Stratocaster, O’Kelly said yes, and Jimi said, ‘Oh my God.’ So he virtually came into the house with a brand new guitar, he didn’t have to pay for rent, food, or laundry, and was just there like a member of the family. Of course the other guys hated him for it and they didn’t see him until rehearsal, but when he plugged in, they said, ‘Damn, he’s star of the band now!”’

After his jaunt with the Isley Brothers and several other short-lived stints ended, a move to London resulted in the formation of The Jimi Hendrix Experience and also allowed the leader to be consumed by a rock ‘n’ roll explosion. Besides meeting members of The Rolling Stones, The Who, and Cream, Hendrix also basked in the blues scene. In fact, 78-year-old guitarist Hubert Sumlin, best known for his tenure with Howlin’ Wolf’s band, can testify to that greatness firsthand, thanks to multiple impromptu performances.

“You know I love Jimi and I loved him from the first day I saw him,” Sumlin assures. “We met in London when [Wolf and his band] were playing Royal Albert Hall, and in walked Jimi straight to the bandstand with his earrings, big hat, and guitar. We were flying back to America the next day and Jimi came back with us on the plane and we did it again the next night at Radio City [Music Hall]. Wolf hugged Jimi, thanked him and said, ‘You’re all right. I hope you make a million.’”

An understatement, but a foreshadowing nonetheless as Hendrix quickly conquered the European market, later crossing over Stateside thanks to iconic appearances at 1967’s Monterey Pop, 1969’s Woodstock, and 1970’s Isle Of Wight festivals. Throughout, The Jimi Hendrix Experience cranked out Are You Experienced? (“Purple Haze,” “Hey Joe,” “The Wind Cries Mary”), Axis: Bold As Love (“Little Wing,” “Castles Made Of Sand,” “Wait Until Tomorrow”), Electric Ladyland (“All Along The Watchtower,” “Gypsy Eyes,” “Have You Ever Been To Electric Ladyland”), and, later, the eponymous Band Of Gypsys live album.

“So I’m sitting in study hall, sometime in 1967, and the guys near me are reading about the Are You Experienced? album in a magazine and see that Jimi played with the Isley Brothers,” Ernie recalls. “So everyone starts asking me about that and I say, ‘Not only did I know him, but he lived in my house!’ To which everybody asked, ‘Why didn’t you ever say anything?’ The truth was, no one ever asked and seemed to just soak up all the information from what they heard on radio or in magazines. So then someone asked ‘Who’s better, Clapton or Hendrix?’ and I said, ‘Hendrix, not because of what you hear on the records, but from what I heard him play without an amplifier.’

“I remember being about 11 with my math and social studies book on the dining room table while he was playing guitar as an ambulance went by and he tried to make a guitar sound to match it. I relate to the person and continue to relate in a different way than virtually anybody else because of him living in the house and my older brothers being in the business. I can still remember playing kickball in the backyard and them hearing him and the band in the basement starting up ‘Twist And Shout.’ We’d all look at Jimi, and even though he might not be looking at you, he’d hit a note, sustain it, look around like there was something flying around in the room, then catch it, pick back up where he was in the song, then look over at you and wink.”

On an academic binge, Satriani studied all the albums and bootlegs and came to the conclusion that Hendrix’s talent was absolutely inbred and nothing that could ever be trained, properly mimicked, or copied to any notable degree. “[Growing up] when Jimi’s music would come through the stereo speakers, I was transfixed and I couldn’t figure out why I was feeling the way I did, but it was completely cathartic. ‘What was that?’ It got me started on my own journey that day of who I was and what I was doing, which eventually led me to pick up guitar. Technically the guy was so innovative in what he did and his technique was so amazing. He sounded like he never practiced a day in his life and that he was playing completely from the heart, making it up as he went along and it felt like he was doing it just for you. None of it could ever be learned at a clinic. All the musical and physical talent was so rare — one in a million, really.”

– Andy Argyrakis

For more with Experience Hendrix artists, grab the March issue free throughout Chicagoland.

Bob Crawford thinks he holds the best job in the world — even if it means driving four hours through a sleet storm just to get home from band practice. “It’s been just phenomenal for me. I get to collaborate with two of the greatest songwriters I know,” he says over the din of shaky cell-phone reception and freezing precipitation beating on the exterior of his car.

Appearing: Sunday, March 7th at House Of Blues in Chicago.

His commitment to the call isn’t surprising — it seems those Avett Brothers run a tight ship. They gleaned this work ethic by observing their father manage a welding business during their formative years and transferred this discipline to their music. Adding bass to Scott and Seth Avett’s heart-tugging compositions when the trio formed in North Carolina, Crawford took some time to adjust to the protocol.

“Scott always tells people that when we first started out — we still do — we kind of run our band business the same way his dad ran the welding business,” he says. “So, it’s like that kind of idea of early-to-bed/early-to-rise and being on the job site when the sun comes up. In the early days of what we did, we would leave at 5 a.m. and no matter where we were we would get up at the break of dawn and make our way to wherever we needed to be. That’s just something I think that’s in their blood. I had to learn that,” Crawford admits.

The dedication to craft sustained the genetically inclined harmonizing, banjo-friendly power ballad-writing band through four independently released full-length albums and two EPs beginning 2001. Near-constant touring earned The Avett Brothers a rabid fanbase scattered across the country and cemented the group’s reputation as if not a live tour de force, then definitely a raucous good time.

Producer extraordinaire Rick Rubin (Johnny Cash, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Tom Petty) took notice and invited the boys out to his house in Malibu to woo them to sign with Columbia Records. “Rick has his ear to the ground. I think he found us on YouTube . . . and he sought us out,” Crawford explains. “He’s a very easy guy to meet — a very easy guy to talk to music about. He made us feel quite comfortable and very relaxed.”

Taking a meeting with Rubin and hunkering down in the studio with the legend for months (and for that matter making the switch to a major label) are two different things. When the band made the decision to take the leap, call Columbia home, and put the making of I And Love And You into Rubin’s hands — thereby relinquishing a fraction of its coveted control — the pressure was on.

“He doesn’t intimidate you intentionally, but for the first couple of days it was hard for us. I think you put this pressure on yourself because he’s there [and] you need to be better than you are. It took a couple of days to realize we just needed to be ourselves,” Crawford recounts. “I think that we all got better because of that. I think we are better musicians now than before we made I And Love And You and before we worked with Rick. But, it did take a little bit, I think, for ourselves to get in the mindset that he’s just a guy like the rest of us.”

Because (or in spite) of Rubin’s tutelage, The Avett Brothers’ major-label debut retains the band’s penetrating observations on the themes of family, romance, and the transition between the petty occupations of boyhood to the responsibilities of manhood. From the stuttering profession of affection in “Kick Drum Heart” to the resigned heart incapable of mouthing the three words people long for most in the title track, the album’s universal truths cause the listener to wince as if 20 Band-Aids are being pulled off at once.

Setting up shop at the Document Room in sunny Malibu didn’t affect the album’s stoic mood. The abundance of Vitamin D failed to influence Crawford and his bandmates, who kept their heads down and noses buried in work. “True, you walk out of the studio to get some fresh air and you’re looking over a mountainside of the Pacific Ocean and it’s quite beautiful . . . but there was no pool time or martinis or daiquiris,” Crawford says. “But, Rick let us be ourselves. He was very conscious of letting us do what it is that we do that drew him to us in the first place. And the advice he did have and the suggestions he did bring up were effective in a lot of ways and they were very gentle.”

– Janine Schaults

For the full interview, grab the March issue available free throughout Chicagoland.

“This particular record is a funny one for me, because when I started working on the first songs, I kind of had lost hope in relationships altogether. I’m a bad boyfriend, let’s put it that way. But then, I kind of fell head over heels for somebody during the process, and I was documenting that process over the period of time working on the album. So for me, it’s really current and, because of that reason, it does have a bit of light at the end of the tunnel. But then again, it’s always the oncoming train, isn’t it?”

Appearing: Saturday, April 9th at House Of Blues in Chicago.

So explains Ville Valo of Finnish love-metal act H.I.M., in regards to his new and (comparably) optimistic outlook. It’s an almost-hopeful sentiment present on his band’s seventh album, Screamworks: Love In Theory And Practice (Sire). It’s also surprisingly (and again, comparably) positive coming from a band with song titles like “Dead Lovers’ Lane,” “The Funeral Of Hearts,” “Join Me In Death,” and “Love In Cold Blood” and albums like Razorblade Romance and Greatest Love Songs Vol. 666 in its catalog. But then, as Valo explains, Screamworks aims for more than just the group’s previous doom-and-gloom ambitions.

“For me, my goal was to make an album that would be somewhere between Depeche Mode and Guns N’ Roses, or Kraftwerk and The Cult, but having this pompous, baritone-voice fellow trying to be all Meatloaf, in between,” the frontman explains. “It was just kind of like a weird sonic sandwich, but I think that we brought . . . the European melancholy and the poetic sensibility into the more direct, straightforward, Foo Fighters-type of rock. That was the picture I had in my mind, and I think we succeeded extremely well in that. For me, it’s something really new, because I wanted the melancholy vibe still to have levity, and still to have this kind of punky, straight-in-your-face directness, which a lot of our stuff hasn’t — it’s been veiled and shrouded in mystery or whatever, vibe-wise — and I wanted this to be a bit more honest, and that could be interpreted as being a bit more poppy, as well.”

“Poppy” is a surprisingly accurate description for Screamworks. Only one song eclipses four minutes (by a full second) and, sonically, the material is forthright and immediate, with Valo describing the record as “a rock ‘n’ roll version of the danceable tragedy.”

It’s a description that easily applies to the electronic-tinged and morose “The Foreboding Sense Of Impending Happiness,” while the harder-edged “Like St. Valentine” would fit right in at modern-rock radio. Yet songs like the more pop-laced “Scared To Death” and power ballad “In The Arms Of Rain,” while instantly recognizable as H.I.M. fare, demonstrate an urgency and impact present in much of Screamworks and new to the group’s sound at large. No doubt the album’s newfound dynamic can be traced back to the band recording the album in Los Angeles, with production from Matt Squire (Panic At The Disco, Taking Back Sunday) and mixing by Neal Avron (Fall Out Boy, Weezer). And according to a Billboard.com interview from December, Screamworks is the first album Valo has written entirely sober, a fact that plays into the album’s heightened directness, as well. Yet the reason for the singer’s sudden sobriety was (unsurprisingly) far from a happy one.

“I’ve always written all the songs sober or having a hangover, but I wasn’t able to function or be creative if I was messed up, so basically, I was just getting out of my head at the end of each creative session, and I just kept getting worse and worse,” Valo admits. “My decision to stop being the rather weak party animal that I was, was the fact that I think that each individual, at one point, would get really bored of shitting and puking blood everyday. So that was kind of like the essential point: The doctors telling me that I’m going to have a heart failure if I don’t stop. I looked like a puffy, zombified version of the old me and, to be honest with you, I didn’t feel good. I think that the Bukowski mission I was on was well accomplished, but if I would’ve taken that further it would have destroyed the career or the passion, the number-one thing, which is music in my life.”

In addition to being a very real and dangerous threat, the frontman’s risk of heart failure is hugely ironic, given the heavy and repeated use of broken and battered hearts in H.I.M.’s lyrics and imagery. In fact, the group’s most recognizable aspect is its “heartagram” logo, a design that combines a pentagram and a heart. The irony was not lost on the singer.

“I think that musicians very, very rarely sing about the heart as a muscle,” he concedes when the comparison is brought up. “But yeah, it is [ironic]. And the first single from this album being ‘Heartkiller?’ So, you can find copious amounts of black humor in everything we do. And it’s good to remember, as opposed to taking yourself way too seriously.”

A surprising sentiment from such a somber and sordid soul. Yet with the retreat from excessive drinking and the time spent among sunny, palm tree-laden landscape of L.A., is it any wonder Valo sees a light at the end of the tunnel, be it train or otherwise?

“On a philosophical level, I think that the journey is way more important than actually getting there. I think that happiness is actually trying to get to happiness,” he states. “I don’t think that a psychological/mental/emotional equilibrium is heaven. That’s hell. Sitting on top of a cloud playing a harp for eternity, [is] definitely not my idea of paradise. That feels really repetitious and like a bad dream, so I think that happiness in itself for me is the fact that, I’m trying to go forward with the band, musically, I’m trying to become a better person, doing what I do, as everybody’s doing.

“You’re making your mistakes along the way, just to be able to make new ones the next day. It’s not necessarily a not-painful way of going about, but, then again, it’s very colorful and memorable, at least for me. So, I’d rather see in that light, than try to,” he pauses, declaring, “Oof — that just sounds terrible, to be happy all the time. You have to have the lows to appreciate the happiness, and vice-versa. You have to look down at the abyss, and nearly hop down into the abyss, to be able to appreciate the little things in life that make it all worthwhile.”

He continues, “I think successful comedians are the ones who commit the most suicides, and then the goth bands that sing about all dark stuff, they’re the ones that are the happiest, and enjoy the sunshine the most. I think we’re somewhere in between. So, I’m learning how to tie up a noose, but at the same time, enjoying my ice cream.”

– Jaime de’Medici

For the full interview, grab the March issue free throughout Chicagoland.

Hoosiers is one of the greatest psyche-up movies of all time. It’s interesting for this story not because of March Madness, but for how it compares to having a professional recording made. In a crucial scene, Gene Hackman’s character gives his green team a tour of the gymnasium where the state finals will take place. All the hard work and practice has brought them to a steel and concrete arena, where the baskets are 10 feet from the ground just like the home gym. There’s nothing to change, boys, just keep doing what you’ve been doing.

Don’t take that approach to recording. By all means keep practicing and putting forth effort, but even the most optimistic studio manager will tell you no two spaces are the same, neither are any two goals. And what exactly should you change? For starters . . .

“Change your strings and drumheads,” according to Dom Palmisano at Linder Avenue Recording. Soundscape’s Michael Kolar? “Your guitars restrung. For drums, a fresh set of heads.” Engine Room’s John Humphrey suggests, “If you’re a drummer, you want to make sure your heads are changed. Put new strings on the guitar.” Dave Banks at Energy Command . . . you get the point.

With more than 50 years of studio experience among them, Banks, Humphrey, Kolar, and Palmisano have seen it all. Even after stressing in pre-session meetings what’s important, artists still succumb to habit (sloppiness) or myth (the studio makes you sound better).

Of all the advice we culled from them, however, what stuck out was what might be considered poor marketing for the studios.

“The cost versus what you get,” pauses Humphrey, “learn what you’re paying for. Shop around and see what studios offer as far as what you’re trying to do, how you want to record, equipment, space, the whole package. Dollar for dollar what you get at different places is vastly different. It’s a shame to me when people come in and have paid the same or more for a lesser experience because they didn’t do their homework.”

Homework might rank among the reasons some musicians chose their craft, but Banks agrees. “What impresses me more than probably anything is the band that does its homework: does its research, talks to other studios, finds the perfect fit for its sound. I enjoy working with those because they’re more professional.”

Next on the list is to know what you’re doing. It seems obvious, but managing expectations might be the biggest responsibility a studio has. “Sit down and talk about what are you trying to get accomplished,” says Kolar, emphasizing that you want to share this with the studio as well. “What is the target audience and budget? The budget’s going to dictate all the answers. Then we can get real about what to expect to get done. If you’re just trying to get gigs with a demo, let’s rip and run. It doesn’t have to be Dark Side Of The Moon — just convey to a promoter you’re not going to embarrass them at their venue. If you want something to sell after shows, we’ll need to add a couple days.”

“I always get a guy, every week,” says Humphrey, “‘I wanna come in for an hour.’ What are you gonna do in an hour? It takes an hour to get in, get set up. That’s the biggest misconception.”

It’s a topic that gets these guys rolling. “If you’re talking about [expectations] the day you’re recording, it’s probably too late,” says Palmisano. I am someone who overcommunicates before people come in. A good studio can capture how you sound. Don’t try to prepare how you think you and your instrument will sound. Prepare as normally as you could.”

Banks adds, “People who come with beats often think, ‘I’ve got a five-minute song I can take care of in three or four takes. I’ve got a budget of $75 and can get done in an hour or two.’ Nuh-uh. You might be warmed up in an hour or two, and you might capture your tracks an hour after that, and then spend an hour or two editing. I think a lot of people have a misperception because of these tools now available to them like GarageBand, Cubase, or Sonar. They’ve got friends who have a microphone and they’ve seen them do it. They can get a mix that sounds like crap, but they can do it pretty quickly and figure someone with better stuff can do it even faster.”

The other point everyone agreed on was storage. Kolar recommends, “If your studio bill is paid-in-full, you’re entitled to leave with your masters. You’re gonna want to be sure to bring a hard drive or a 16GB thumb drive. All hard drives are a motor, and no motor lasts forever so back them up.” For that he recommends DVD or Blu-Ray copies.

Banks is surprised how unvalued the source files can be. “I can’t tell you how many bands get their final, two-track audio mix and don’t take the masters. I keep everything — I’m kind of a pack rat — but I urge everyone at the beginning to get an external hard drive. If the place goes up in smoke . . . ”

From there, Palmisano, Humphrey, Kolar, and Banks have laundry lists. Palmisano says not to leave personal gear behind, “It’s better to have, than to have hoped you did.” While Humphrey reminds to take advantage of the studio’s arsenal: “On the flipside, you have the under-assumption [the studio doesn't] have anything. That comes from frugal, barebones recording and they don’t realize you have vintage amps and, you know, a piano.”

Kolar’s a big stickler on the strings issue (“There’s no amount of $1,000 Austrian mics with super-clean top end that will put the sparkle back into a guitar like a new set of strings”) and underscores maximizing time in and out of the studio. “A band will be having trouble switching an amp from clean to dirty, and nine times out of 10 the guitar player says, ‘That thing’s been acting up for awhile.’ I start at $70 an hour. If it takes a half hour to get an amp to be unfinicky, that’s $35 you lost that could have been spent on a repair that will last you years, instead of me coming up with some Rube Goldberg fix in the studio.”

Banks drives home that the studio is not the stage. “Bands overplay. When you get to talking about what their parts are, you know, every time you hit a footswitch to change tones we do that on a different take. That click-over isn’t recorded. They think they have two guitars, a bass, and a singer. There may be 10 guitar parts by the time they’re done. But they think, ‘This is how we do it live.’ Too many bands don’t practice with a click track, and they wonder why their recording sounds sloppy or warped. They slow down, they speed up.”

And finally, there are the things that impress them. For Palmisano, “Singers who sing on key.” Humphrey? “I’ve had pro bands burn out 10 basic tracks in a day.” Kolar likes when “they have all their files and it’s all organized.” And Banks is for “the drummer who doesn’t overplay, and the bass player who is locked in with the drummer.”

None of them, for the record, insisted upon three passes before any shots.

– Steve Forstneger

IE: So after a long absence, you’re back in a big way, with a three-part conceptual piece Out Of Our Minds, an album, comic book, and 28-minute film directed by Tony Stone. But where in the hell have you been for the past six years?
Melissa Auf Der Maur: Actually, I’ve been real busy, I promise you. And first of all, I wanna explain that it’s been five years, not six, ’cause I was on tour for the entire year of 2004. So what happened in half a decade? I began to write what I thought would be a rock record that I knew would have a more visual/conceptual element to it, because I’d decided that I wanted to bring together some of my visual-art roots of the past and mix ‘em in with my music. Because I had sorta been hijacked by music for a decade, while I turned my back on my photography and all these other artsy things. But did I know the 21st-century beast was gonna become this? No. Not until halfway through the making of the record, when Capitol Records, my label at the time, began to melt. Budgets were being frozen, and I couldn’t go back into the studio until they told me I could. So I started to get very nervous about the music industry. And by the time that everyone I worked with at Capitol was fired in one fell swoop, I had already gotten my survival kit out. Legal affairs held up my half-finished record for almost a year, which was hellish. But I wanted to continue to create, so in that limbo, I met the filmmaker Tony Stone. And I’d had the idea for this film, so we just decided to go full-bore with it. So we embarked on this epic journey, even though it’s only a half-hour film — there really are car crashes in it, and lots of special effects like bleeding trees. So we were solar-powered, off the grid, living like pagans on and off for six months over the course of a year to make that epic movie. Then I wanted to continue expounding on it, so we started doing the comic book. And I also wanted to get back in touch with my roots as a Canadian independent artist, and that took a huge amount of brainwork, a learning curve for a girl who lived in the fantasy-Viking-creative side, who had to suddenly learn how to use a computer and make marketing pitches — because I’d decided that I wanted to be able to have my own artist-run production company. So it’s one thing to make a multi-media concept record, another thing entirely to become your own business. So that’s been the crazy last year and a half of my life. But now I’ve got my own MAdM Productions, and I’m the creator of music and film and whatever the hell I wanna make in the future!

Melissa Auf Der Maur’s Out Of Our Minds is available March 30th. Q&A by Tom Lanham.

Though beloved, The Dismemberment Plan’s breakup several years ago was greeted with joy by headline writers who had a field day with “self-fulfilling prophecy” jibes. With Wilmette’s Fall Out Boy on the brink, it’s open season again. (Given bassist Pete Wentz’s online logorrhea, credit the folks who waded through his rants to uncover this news.)

After the better part of a decade atop the emo heap, there’s trouble in paradise. No there isn’t. Yes there is. “I don’t know the future of Fall Out Boy,” Wentz Twittered. Then he told Rolling Stone, “It’s kind of like in the Midwest, when you start having snow days. The snow will melt one day. It will melt sooner rather than later.” Then, “We were just burned out, and we need a break.” Singer Patrick Stump is working on a solo album and sees things differently, telling Spin, “I’m not in Fall Out Boy right now. But one way or another, the band will always be around. Steven Tyler isn’t in Aerosmith anymore, but his gravestone will probably say something about Aerosmith.” Down, down, sugar they’re going down

Take Your Hat Off And Stay A While

Eleven days after the 1970 Kent State shootings, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young wrote, recorded, and released “Ohio.” Forty years later, Illinois Senate President John Cullerton shut the media and public out of a bipartisan budget meeting. Coincidence? It’s with the speed of the former and the privacy of the latter that Chicago’s “Closed Sessions” have begun. (Maybe.)

A collaboration between Omar Solis, DJ RTC EIC, and Soundscape Studios’ Michael Kolar, the idea is to grab hip-hop artists passing through town on tour (and some local folks) to select a beat in front of a video team and then go to work. The whole sequence is filmed, edited, then disseminated online via Rubyhornet.com, and the audio tracks come packaged as multimedia EPs. Participating artists so far have included Bun B, Rhymefest, Kidz In The Hall, and Big Pooh; the first nine-song issue comes out this month as a free download.

Capitol Crimes

They’ve had it better than most bands, but you couldn’t blame the members of OK Go for wearing a permanent expression of “You gotta be kidding me.” Under Capitol Records’ thumb after the middling success of their label debut, the Chicagoans made gold from lemons by producing their own music videos (“A Million Ways,” “Here It Goes Again”) and spilling them all over the Internet. Their career was salvaged with little help from their backers, and the band are hailed as pioneers in viral promotion.

And then major-label reality reared its ugly head again. In 2006, Google and the big labels agreed that videos can only be legally posted to YouTube and Myspace and not embedded wherever fans can post them — thus deliberately restricting promotion. (It’s the Stone Age with these people.) Minorly sympathetic but greatly undeterred, the band will give their new videos’ embed codes to any fan who asks, hedging, “Our label is unlikely to start suing us for putting our videos up,” as Damien Kulash told Rolling Stone. That’d be as dumb as suing their customers. Oops.

– Steve Forstneger

Holly Jollie Admitance

Consider a crisis averted. As classic bands dilute lineups but continue to tour, admission to the history books becomes a sticky issue. The Hollies‘ induction into The Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame could have sparked a peculiar situation as to which members would be on hand to accept the honor. So far, though, there’s no bad blood between the former and current Hollies as to who’ll be attending the event. It looks like Graham Nash and vocalist Allan Clarke, who founded the band but have been gone for years, will be there, along with Terry Sylvester, who replaced Nash in 1969 and left in 1981. No definite word on whether they’ll be performing. The current Hollies still tour throughout Europe with drummer Bobby Elliott and guitarist Tony Hicks as the only remaining original members. They’re performing at the London Palladium the night of the Hall Of Fame ceremony.

“The venues have been booked for the last year or so and are well sold, so unfortunately it’s not possible to reschedule the dates,” Elliott explains via e-mail. “Tony and I are happy for Graham to collect the awards on our behalf. We consider it a great honor to be part of the RRHOF and would like to thank all the folks who voted for us.”

– Terrence Flamm

Hailing from Chicago, blues trio The Black Oil Brothers‘ sound is 100-percent pure Mississippi. The band’s debut, Long Way From The Delta, actually sounds like it was recorded right in the heart of it, with soul-stirring blues from start to finish. Don’t let their youth fool you: these guys are well-versed in their blues history, and have captured the sound perfectly from the harmonica solos and smooth harmonies, to the dueling acoustics and mandolins, right down to the old-school story-telling lyrics. (www.theblackoilbrothers.com)
– Carter Moss

The three-song Blue Balls is a hard-rocking new effort from the trio About Nothin’, with a title track that’s a ribald tale of a pirate who goes by that name. The grunge-flavored “Way Back” hits a bit closer to home, as a White Sox hat-wearing South Sider contends with hookers and panhandlers on his way to the liquor store. “One First Class Big Hurry” evokes Henry Rollins with its muscular arrangement. (www.myspace.com/aboutnothinpage)
– Terrence Flamm

Should they ever get hold of a copy, Hollywood music supervisors would have a field day with Where We Begin, the latest CD from Absentstar. Cuts like “Ready When You Are” and “At The Seams” are perfect for adding audio oomph to those emotional relationship moments TV and movie directors love to fashion. Listening to all 10 indie-pop tunes in a single sitting can get a mite maudlin, yet taken in two- or three-track doses the melodies are brilliantly sentimental. (www.absentstar.com)
– Jeff Berkwits

Cold Water Mystic is a first-rate party band, with the 14 tracks on Cooler By The Lake backing up this claim. It’s easy to forget that the reggae-infused rock isn’t coming from Long Beach or the Caribbean, but from landlocked Brookfield. The band nails the Sublime-light vibe throughout, even getting funky, a la Red Hot Chili Peppers, on “Tip Your Cup” and “Funk Yeah.” (www.myspace.com/coldwatermystic)
– Jason Scales

Transporting the club into your living room, DJ Leebo’s Adventures In Structures Chaoz — The House Soundtraxs Volume 2 is an electrifying slice of pulsating house and techno, overflowing with throbbing rhythms and tingling electronic accents. Huge, heart-heaving house beats, faux hand claps, and tumbling, squishy electric squiggles pound with insistent clarity in “The Donjon,” and Leebo guides a celestial tour in “Hartimes” as glitchy blips and beeps, backed with rolling, cut-up beats launch us into the stratosphere. (www.myspace.com/djleebohouse)
– Patrick Conlan

Singer/songwriter Sue Fink presents 12 polished songs on her third full-length, Thoughts At An Intersection. A variety of pleasant, easy-listening pop styles (from jazzy to country) are explored — all meant to highlight her gentle and at times vulnerable vocals. A host of talented musicians, providing everything from cello to piano, assist her in realizing her wistful, humorous, and serious observations about life. (www.suefink.com)
– Jason Scales

For simple, straight-forward pop, look no further than Gidgets Ga Ga. Opening strong with “Beki,” the broodier, more introspective “The Sorry Song,” and the bouncy handclapper “The Bomb,” The Big Bong Fiasco does, however, suffer from an overall homogeny after awhile, especially on a disc that’s 18 tracks long. That said, TBBF is as enjoyable of a pop record as you’re likely to hear. (www.myspace.com/gidgetsgaga)
– Dean Ramos

Conservationist/biologist Aldo Leopold is the muse behind the 18-song Great Possessions, a virtuosic folk-rock manifesto for tree huggers from The Giving Tree Band. A host of acoustic instruments — including banjo, fiddle, glockenspiel, and harmonium — creates a warm, organic aesthetic. Fun facts: the album was created with “100-percent solar energy” at the Leopold Legacy Center in Baraboo, Wisconsin, and 10 trees were planted for every 1,000 units sold to offset the pollution caused by shipping. Thankfully, the songwriting and musicianship is as solid as the environmentalism. (www.thegivingtreeband.com)
– Jason Scales

An undeniably catchy mix of metal and pop punk, Gypsyfly can without a doubt “rawk!” with the best of them, which is readily apparent on “You’re Gonna Get It” and the closing number, “The Day Night Ended.” However, this hybrid of genres doesn’t work for every track on Silver Or Lead. Ballads like “Don’t Worry” as well as the guitar-driven “Play With Fire” are just a couple of examples where the contrasts in musical ideologies are hardly a perfect match. (www.gypsyfly.net)
– Dean Ramos

Diane Marie Kloba pursues a more avant-garde sound on her latest solo effort, For You, Stranger, than she did as a member of The Silent Workers. At times, her spoken, childlike vocals and spacy arrangements get too cutesy as on the title track, but the sparse “For Inventors” has an intimate charm. “Skurf,” a spooky, guitar-driven instrumental adds a bit of fun, and “Keepable (Drum Experiment)” is an engaging indie-rock tune. (www.dianemariekloba.com)
– Terrence Flamm

Oddball rockers Let’s Get Out Of This Terrible Sandwich Shop are officially going out of business! Blame the economy or the band’s highly inaccessible sound, but after five years of playing pubs (and sandwich shops?) in the city, they are calling it quits, and releasing Everything Must Go! as a farewell gift — a collection of demos, live versions, and other random stuff. At least they are going out like they started: leaving fans slightly entertained and thoroughly confused. (www.letsgetoutofthisterriblesandwichshop.com)
– Carter Moss

Despite haunting tracks like “Hudson River Teenage Blues,” the “Don’t Go Back To Rockville” feel of the title cut, and the jazzy “Golden Record,” there’s ultimately something rather cold and un-emotive about this Lost Cartographers record. There’s a noticeable lack of passion that even makes the otherwise sweet and heartfelt “Love In the Morning” a rather uneventful listen. Still, the instrumentation and the variety of influences they’ve chosen to incorporate suggest promise. (www.myspace.com/thelostcartographers)
– Dean Ramos

With Good Advice, The Negligents nail that minimally rugged garage-rock sound to a T. This trio, led by vocalist/bassist Ken Negligent, hold an unmistakable youthful intensity but at the same time don’t come off as immature. Just check the standout single “Matter No More,” where Negligents kick things off by saying, “They say the salad days are coming back/I think I’m old enough to know better than that.” Consider this grown-up garage material. (www.negligents.com)
– Max Herman

Although catchy and sweet on such tracks as opener “Without Without” and bouncy and endearing on “Linda,” Roxy Swain’s New Love Designers unfortunately can come off a bit bland and generic as well, especially on “Duo Jet” and “Spread Eagle” when guitarist Tom Valenzano takes over vocal duties. On the other hand, though, much of New Love Designers seems tailored for adult alternative radio, an arena where the band would undoubtedly find the most success. (www.spadekitty.com)
– Dean Ramos

Soft Speaker’s seven-track Conditions is a solid collection of rock songs that convey an organic warmth. Finely orchestrated acoustic instruments provide this sound, with an occasional switch in vocalists to match the mood. “Barbershop Quintet” uses breathy vocals over a more melancholy tone, with “Mercury Park” — the opening track — increasing the tempo and energy in vocals and instrumentation. Closer “The Great Brick Mosque And I” breaks from the aforementioned aesthetic, instead relying on synth tracks and machine-like percussion. (www.softspeaker.com)
– Jason Scales

Not to be confused with the band of the same name from Tallahassee, Chicago’s Soft Targets is trekking forward with its third album, Don’t Put Out. Here, these songs are distinguished by oft-serious subject matter delivered with light-headed personality (“When The Apocalypse Comes”). Paired with its upbeat, lo-fi guitar-driven output and you get a non-depressing look at modern times. (www.soft-targets.com)
– Max Herman

Performing as Super 8 Bit Brothers, Tub Ring’s Rob Kleiner and Kevin Gibson proudly let their geek flag fly on Brawl, their full-length debut. Whether reminiscing about a classic Atari console via “2600 Refugee” or declaring “Goodbye Cruel World (Of Warcraft),” the pair melds decent melodies and smart lyrics with vintage, video-game-inspired electronic sounds. Not all of the disc’s 15 songs are entirely engaging, but enough make the grade to ensure a buoyant bit-pop journey. (www.myspace.com/super8bitbrothers)
– Jeff Berkwits

It’s not every day that a highly-lauded jazz pianist decides to take a detour to go start a rock band, but that’s exactly the story behind recent NIU grad Samuel Wyatt. The piano-based pop-rock on his debut, Welcome To America (recorded under the moniker Wyatt), certainly highlights his skills on the ivory, and the intelligent lyrics prove his potential as a bonafide songwriter. Wyatt’s debut is both fun and thoughtful, and might just be the perfect slap in the face to anyone who questioned his career choice. (www.myspace.com/wyattchicago)
– Carter Moss

Every critic should be so lucky to review an EP as absolutely pleasure-inducing as The Yearbooks‘ Have A Great Summer. While taking cues from such 2000s stalwarts as Death Cab For Cutie and The Strokes, the quintet aren’t content with merely aping those who came before. Instead, it seems as if they’re carving their own niche by crafting some of the finest indie pop/rock Chicago has probably heard in quite some time. (www.myspace.com/theyearbooks)
– Dean Ramos

photo by Cara Jepsen

Two of the nation’s coolest indie-rock outlets originate right here in Chicago. Both “JBTV” and CHIRP radio are staffed by volunteers who are more passionate about music than money. And both have launched 24-hour Internet stations.

The 25-year-old, all-volunteer “JBTV” will expand into a 24-hour, multi-genre online TV channel this month (at www.jbtvonline.com). And January saw the launch of the community-based Chicago Independent Radio Project, a state-of-the-art online radio station (Chirpradio.org) that one day plans to go terrestrial.

Program director Shawn Campbell, formerly of Loyola’s WLUW-FM (88.7) decided to form CHIRP in July 2007, “When it became apparent that there wasn’t going to be a station in Chicago that was 100-percent welcoming to community volunteers,” she says. She invited a dozen like-minded people to meet a local pub, and that became the CHIRP’s board of directors.

“For two-and-a-half years we didn’t have a station, just an idea,” says Campbell. “We were dependent on people coming to events and raising donations for something that didn’t exist yet. It told us that it was something the larger community felt strongly about and cared about.”

The station netcasts above a factory in Chicago’s North Center neighborhood. “We literally built our facility from the ground-up,” Campbell explains. “When we came in there was a raw factory floor. Our team of engineers built walls, hung drywall, painted, and laid carpet. Volunteers put their hearts into the project.”

Now, CHIRP has 150 volunteers, including some 60 DJs who must play at least five new tracks and two local songs per hour.

Local music is a crucial part of the station’s identity, and bands are invited to send tracks to music director Billy Kalb. “We think that a really crucial part of what local radio does — and we consider ourselves a local station even though we’re on the Web — is to showcase local bands,” says Campbell.

There are also plans for live performances at the station and at local recording studios — as well as news shows. But all of that costs money. And, because the station is Web-only, license fees are paid per song, per listener. So the more popular it gets, the more the costs will rise.

“We’ve been really fortunate with fundraising,” says Campbell, referring to the station’s record fairs, benefit shows, and grant awards. But their biggest source of income is individual donations.

Campbell is “cautiously optimistic” that CHIRP will eventually launch a Low Power FM (LPFM) version of the station; the House Of Representatives passed a LPFM bill that would reduce the number of clicks required between stations, and give the FCC jurisdiction over further changes. The bill has bipartisan support and could pass the Senate later this year. Still, it would be at least two years before a LPFM station could obtain an FCC waiver and launch a station on Chicago’s congested airwaves.

“People ask, ‘Why bother? Nobody listens to radio anymore,’” says Campbell. “There couldn’t be a stronger message that people are looking for something more. It’s been so gratifying to see the comments coming from the public about how excited they are about the station.

“People have so quickly incorporated it into their daily lives. That’s what we wanted.”

Love is also in the air at “JBTV,” which is celebrating its 25th year as an indie-music showcase (more at JBTVonline.com). “Everyone here loves what they’re doing,” says owner and host Jerry Bryant. “We have a 99-percent volunteer staff. Everyone here has such a passion for the music.”

Bryant now oversees an 18-person team that will launch the 24-hour online network. The station will feature interviews, live performances, videos, and vintage gems from the “JBTV” archives as well as shows from other music genres. The main host will be former Q101 DJ Ryan Manno; Jenna Martinelli covering the local scene; MC/poet Jeff Baraka on the urban beat; and a punk show hosted by Lawrence Arms frontman Brendan Kelly and Red Scare Records owner Toby Jeg.

“We want to bring music programming back to TV, because there’s a serious lack of it now,” says new general manager Christian Piccolini, adding that the webcast will feature six hours of new programming each day.

“There are a lot of people on TV who do shows reading from a script that a writer produces,” he continues. “Everyone here will have a lot to do with their own segments,” and the genre hosts will have free reign to choose the music they play. They’ll also make use of Bryant’s state-of-the-art performance studio.

Bryant will continue do his regular show, which airs Wednesdays at 9 p.m., Thursdays at 8 p.m., and Sundays at midnight on Chicago Cable Channel 25, and Wednesdays at midnight on WYJS-Channel 62.

“This year is the start of a new decade, which is a perfect time to do this,” says Bryant. “There’s a whole new way of thinking, with the handheld devices, portable phones, iPods — there are tons of new opportunities for new media.

“Terrestrial broadcasting is great, but you’re really limited by your signal,” he continues. “With the Internet and wireless technology that’s out there, you can be anywhere and it sounds tremendous. When you’re on the Internet, you’re broadcasting to the ends of the earth.”

– Cara Jepsen

All the talk nowadays is about the big boys. Slayer, Megadeth, Testament, and Exodus are all touring together in some way, shape, or form, and rumors of a Big Four package (Dave Mustaine told Decibel magazine that Megadeth received an offer) continue to swirl. It’s easy, then, to get swept up in the hype and lose track of a band like, say, Kreator. But answer this: Who, of all the bands named and implied above, released a better record in the last three years than Kreator’s 2009 hunk of kick ass, Hordes Of Chaos (SPV)?

Certainly not Megadeth or Metallica. Exodus’ modern-day output is respectable, but nothing more, and Anthrax’s inability to put out a studio album in seven years disqualifies it from consideration. Maybe Slayer should keep Testament around once Tom Araya’s back heals, replace Megadeth with Kreator, and rip the States a new one.

Until then, Kreator has a nice little thing of its own going. The Hordes Of Chaos Part II Tour (Kreator, Voivod, Nachtmystium, Evile, and Lazarus A.D.) fucks up the Bottom Lounge Friday, March 12th. Fresh off announcing his band’s deal with Nuclear Blast, Kreator vocalist/guitarist/founder Mille Petrozza answered e-mail questions from “Caught In A Mosh” using the fewest words possible.

Mosh: The Hordes Of Chaos Part II Tour is very diverse. How much input did the band have in choosing its tourmates?

Mille Petrozza: We have input, but we also trust our management and booking agent. We all make suggestions and see who’s available.

M: Many of metal’s older generation confess lacking knowledge about younger counterparts, but judging from this tour, it isn’t the case with Kreator.

MP: The younger bands keep the scene alive! It is important to keep track on what’s happening in the underground, in my opinion.

M: Are you personally psyched about any of the bands onboard?

MP: I’m looking forward to all of the bands on the bill, but of course we have the closest relationship with Voivod, who [in 1987] were the first band that ever invited us to tour the U.S.

M: Being sons of our city, Nachtmystium is an intriguing choice for us Chicagoans. What does that group bring to the table?

MP: They seem to be a very good band with a vision. I like their music, and I’m looking forward to meeting the guys.

M: The band based part of this tour’s setlist on fan voting. Can you share any of the results? Anything particularly surprise you?

MP: We’ve had thousands of votes, and the surprising thing is that our taste is not that far off from what our fans like. There will be some songs in the set that we haven’t played in a long time.

M: Being an “elder statesman” of thrash, what are your thoughts on a possible Big Four tour?

MP: I don’t like all of the Big Four bands, so to me, big two would be enough.

M: So record sales, popularity, and critical acclaim aside, what four thrash bands should rightfully occupy a spot in the Big Four, in Mille Petrozza’s mind?

MP: Sorry man, I do not think in these categories. Any band that compares their music or their career to other bands lose a part of their integrity.

M: This being Kreator’s 25th Anniversary, and you being the founder, did you really think it would last this fucking long?

MP: Honestly, no. I live in the here and now and always have. So when I started I maybe thought about the next coming week. I never think as far ahead as 25 years. To me, time is an illusion anyway.

R.I.P. METAL HAVEN: An “Armageddon Sale” isn’t a good promotion for any record store, even one that specializes in grim, foreboding heavy metal. But the end hath arrived for Metal Haven. Save new releases, everything at 2003 W. Montrose is on sale. Discounts will increase randomly throughout March and April, and owner Mark Weglarz shuts ‘er down for good by May 1st.

“I let the [customers] dictate the closing of the store,” Weglarz explains. “As long as enough people came in to pay the bills then I would stay open. When I couldn’t pay the bills anymore, then I would close.”

Explanation? Weglarz can’t afford electricity if we can’t afford the new Destroyer 666. The Skulleted One first noticed declining numbers in 2004 and admits worrying the store wouldn’t even last the length of the three-year lease he signed when Metal Haven moved from Lakeview to its current North Center home in 2007.

Surprisingly, Weglarz isn’t bitter. Though maybe he thinks it, he never once mentions MP3s, downloading, pirating, or the motherfucking iPod. And in truth, downloading and pirating didn’t kill Metal Haven. Did they have an effect? Sure, the guy sitting at home stealing Peaceville’s entire catalog helped pound a nail into the store’s coffin, but most folks shopping at Metal Haven aren’t the kind to buy Autopsy’s Severed Survival anniversary reissue through iTunes. They wouldn’t even know how . . . and that’s meant as a compliment.

“The store is not directed at the casual fan,” Weglarz says proudly. “It’s for the die-hard fan, and what comes with die-hard fans is a loyal customer base.”

“It doesn’t take much to combine $3 cans of shitty beer with your collection of Southern Lord releases and put on a ‘Metal Night’ at some lame bar,” says Chris Black, Superchrist frontman and a former Metal Haven employee. “To open and operate a niche music retail store takes incredible persistence and dedication, not just to the music itself but to the fans. The fact that the store endured as long as it did is in turn a credit to the fans who supported it.”

For more than a decade, Metal Haven was a place honest-to-goodness heavy- metal fans could fraternize. A place where they, not we, are different. A place where you didn’t get the grow-the-fuck-up look from the Pitchfork-worshipping clerk for asking where Entombed is. A place that always had a stocked Manowar section. A place that dedicated shelf space exclusively to “brutal shit,” yet sold Celine Dion cassettes. A place you showed off like you owned the joint to out-of-town friends.

Here’s to a decade of being the most goddamned spoiled heavy-metal fans in this whole country.

Favorite Metal Haven Moments

Larry Herweg, Pelican: My favorite memory of Mark and his awesome shop is when I came in to buy records, as I often did for a time when I lived really close to the shop. He was pretty astute to what I liked — “Hey man, I got the new Decapitated, new Morbid Angel, Vader.” Then one day I asked him for Blind Guardian and Hammerfall CDs. He was stunned I was going the power-metal route! We laughed about it for a bit.

Chris Black: I have to say that April 13th, 2001 might have been the most important day in Metal Haven history. It was a fairly ordinary Friday afternoon until the Cianide guys came in on a mission. Other than acquiring some Autopsy reissues, their objective was to convince us that it was not only acceptable, but sometimes necessary, to have a few beers during business hours. If you’ve seen Cianide live, you know how persuasive they can be. We soon were seeing things their way, and the events of that April 13th marked the beginning of the fraternity atmosphere that characterizes the store to this day.

Kevin Connerty, Vicious Attack: Without question it would have to be the 6-6-2006 sale. I remember me and a friend showin’ up there, and as we were lookin’ for parking we saw this line out the door and down Belmont. Mark was dressed in a devil costume, and I tell you the sight of all those people brought me back to the days of the Rolling Stones [Records] meet-and-greets. We never did make it in to buy anything, but we waited in line for around three hours anyway, just for the hell of it.

Paul Kuhr, Novembers Doom: My favorite memory is simply coming across a CD at random that I had searched for for many years. Metal Haven was the source of underground metal. Period.

– Trevor Fisher

Although she didn’t hear secular music until she was a teen, Valencia Bey always knew she wanted to be a blues/rock diva. She grew up in Chicago but her musical chops were formed in the Mississippi Delta, where she’d spend summers with her grandparents. There, she absorbed the intricacies of gospel music that would transform into blues once it left the church.

Appearing: Friday, April 16th at New Checkerboard Lounge in Chicago.

On her second CD, Coffee And Conversation (Brown Girl), the blues and several of its babies pump through the 12 tracks. From the driving blues of opener “Hello Sunshine,” to the jazz undertones of “Already Home,” and the rockin’ blues of “Steps To The Sun,” Coffee And Conversation showcases blues in its many forms. “My grandmother and mother referred to blues as ‘that raunchy music,’ but I realized that the structure of blues ands gospel were the same, just different lyrics.”

Still, her parents didn’t allow much secular music in the house. Bey heard mostly gospel mainstays like the Thompson Community Singers and Andrae Crouch and very little B.B. King and Z.Z. Hill. “We listened to a lot of gospel music. I heard it in church, on the radio, and at home. My uncle and his family had a musical gospel group in Mississippi and I’d travel with them to shows. I was surrounded by music and musicians and it all seeped in.”

By the time her older brother introduced the spectrum of popular music when she was 14, Bey had selected Tina Tuner, Patti LaBelle, and Nona Hendrix as singing influences and Aretha Franklin, Bill Withers, and Curtis Mayfield as songwriting mentors. “I liked reading liner notes and lyrics,” she says. “I had been writing songs since I was 8 and I learned to rewrite and rewrite. I listened to all of these artists to figure out how they did it.”

Her biggest problem wasn’t figuring out how to write songs. Bey comes from a family of educators and her mother insisted that she couldn’t make a living playing music. Instead, Bey was expected to get her education degree. She refused and moved out to attend Jackson State University, majoring in music. While in college deep in the Bible Belt, Bey considered being a gospel artist and wrote spirituals and a gospel opera. She won a Christian songwriting contest in 2002 and was recruited by a gospel label rep soon after. But the agent left the label after a few months and nobody else at the company stepped in to sign her.

Not getting signed by a gospel label proved to be a good thing for Bey because she had secretly longed to play the guitar and sing rock, blues, and soul. “I always wanted to play but I didn’t see a lot of black women with a guitar growing up. It was always the men,” she says. “I will never forget my uncle sitting down to play the guitar after a long day on the farm. He got so much joy from it.”

Eight years ago, shortly after her uncle passed away, she was drawn to an instrument retailer, bought a guitar, and promptly signed up for lessons. “Once I started playing guitar, I really left gospel music alone. Mainstream gospel and Christian music are too limited for me. I want to sing other types of music.”

And sing she does. Graced with a husky, sinuous voice that recalls Oleta Adams, Odetta, and a little Joan Armatrading, Bey tackles bluesy laments, rock anthems, and soul ballads with relish. On “Young And Beautiful,” a rock ode to female self-awareness, she belts out the chorus with all the power of Tina Turner; on “I’m Falling (Again)” she glides over the blues tune with a fire that recalls Koko Taylor herself.

“As a child and a teen, when I imagined myself singing on stage, I imagined singing with Patti LaBelle and Tina Turner, Nona Hendrix and Grace Jones. They were my wild idols. I guess that was the rock chick in me, screaming to get out.” On stage, Bey combines the style of many of her idols, channeling blues divas and rock chicks with cascading guitar riffs and vocals that flow from sultry to pounding.

The deep emotions that inspire Bey’s music also drive her to offer options for music fans. “I don’t feel like someone who appreciates real music has a lot of options,” she says. “Who’s talking about the issues I’m going through about marriage, divorce? I feel like there’s a void in songwriting from a female point of view.” Bey focuses on providing that point of view for her audience as well as songs that flow from her heart. “I think artistry and simplicity is sometimes lost in popular music. You don’t have to have a lot of noise and bells and whistles to touch people.”

NEW RELEASE: Nick Moss releases his eighth CD, Privileged (Blue Bella), on March 16th. The album showcases a solid collection of blues grooves, with Moss’ original “Georgia Redsnake” a catchy standout. The release party is set for the 20th at Buddy Guy’s Legends.

– Rosalind Cummings-Yeates

The hip thing to do these days is to take all your anger and frustration about the stagnate economy, aim it at big business, and let the bile fly. All the cool kids are doing it, and rightfully so. Insurance companies make record profits only to jack up premiums to ungodly heights, and Wall Street gets billions tossed at them only to participate in a circle-jerk of executive bonus payouts.

So it’s no wonder the leviathans of business would be natural targets for the film world, which is where Steven Soderbergh comes in. Dipping in to his Oceans trilogy bag, he plucks Matt Damon to star as Mark Whitacre, a top level researcher at Illinois-based ADM, in the true story of the FBI’s investigation of price fixing at the agri-giant.

Whitacre, recruited by the feds to be their inside-man and lead snitch, happily cooperates with the government case. Eventually three top execs were found guilty, and the company paid out millions in fines and a class action lawsuit.

Yet Whitacre was not the selfless crusader he wanted the FBI to think he was, and the thought process behind his actions prove truly head-scratching.

First off, he had somehow convinced himself that his actions would elevate him to the chairman position of ADM, although the people who controlled decisions like that were the same people he was ratting out, and the company itself just might be brought down with them.

Then there’s the little matter of his embezzlement and check fraud schemes began before, and during, the FBI’s investigation which netted him around $9 million bucks. In the end, Whitacre was discovered, tried, and sentenced to more years in prison the the ADM execs he helped put away.

Damon again reminds us of his range, and he generally doesn’t get the credit he deserves. Although he’s become a go-to action guy, here he’s more William H. Macy in Fargo than Bourne.

A strong supporting cast doesn’t hurt either, with Scott Bakula and Joel McHale as the feds in charge, and Tony Hale (“Arrested Development”) as Whitacre’s put-upon lawyer.

The film itself is wonderful, but the Blu-Ray set is a huge disappointment. With all of the room for extras at their fingertips, the disc only comes with commentary by Soderbergh and screenwriter Scott Z. Burns, a digital copy, and some additional scenes. Yet the subject matter cries out for more info. No, we don’t need a “making-of” feature, but we sure would like to know more about the real Whitacre, ADM’s schemes, and a host of other things that would give some insight into the world of corporate corruption.

In this economy, us mere mortals need that sort of thing.

Law Abiding Citizen
Anchor Bay

Almost as much as corporate malfeasance, the film-going public loves a good revenge flick. Too bad there hasn’t been one since Charles Bronson roamed the earth. Even if it’s the dreadful Taken, or about half of the Mel Gibson catalog, we just can’t seem to get enough of the righteous comeuppance.

Onto the stack of titles gets thrown Law Abiding Citizen, which finds Gerard Butler as Clyde, the perfect family man with the perfect family. At least we guess they’re the perfect family, we only see them for the first five minutes before they’re brutally dispatched. Best not to waste too much time gettin’ to the killin’ part. An assistant D.A. (Jamie Foxx) cuts a deal, and the head bad-guy gets a cushy prison sentence.

Flash forward 10 years, and its no more mister nice guy for Clyde. He sets the retribution radar to fix on everyone involved in the case. Oh, and as is often the case in brutal home invasions, the one left behind just happens to be a former government agent whose sole job for Uncle Sam was to figure out how to kill as many terrorist/dictators/despots as possible without leaving any trace.

So Clyde offs as many innocent people as possible, all the while spouting about “justice” at least 10 times in every conversation. Apparently, no one involved in the film has any sense of irony.

The Blu-Ray’s two discs contain both the theatrical release and a slightly gooier unrated cut, as well as a host of special features. However, after the bad taste left by the film itself, you probably won’t care.

– Timothy Hiatt

Old-timers will remember Tascam invented the home-recording studio with the original cassette Portastudio 4-track recorders back in the 1970s. Their new DP-008 takes the ease-of-use of those classic songwriting cassette recorders and aims to add the same portability and ease of use for new musicians. Unlike the lo-fi qualities of cassette machines of yesteryear, these feature digital sound quality, effects, and mixdown to bring home recording into the 21st century. Chosen as “Best In Show” at the NAMM University Roundtable 2010, both the music press and independent retailers praised the 8-track digital portastudio at the recent California trade show. “It’s a very portable, very small 8-track recorder that can be used for recording fast ideas or with a band,” said George Hines of George’s Music. “It has a built-in stereo so you can just bring it to rehearsals. And it fits in a guitar case. It’s that small. It breaks the price-point barrier [$449] for anything like it. Instead of needing a computer, here you still have something that’s very convenient and versatile.”

The DP-008 8-track Digital Portastudio records up to two tracks at a time from built-in mics or a pair of XLR inputs with phantom power for condenser. Songs are recorded on portable SD memory cartridges you can buy at Walgreens, Best Buy, or any electronic or music store. Built-in effects include reverb send and two-band EQ for each track, and a dedicated mixdown track is also available. Obviously, you can’t record your next album on a DP-008. But this is a great place to start making demos on an affordable recorder, without having to lug around your laptop. More information is available at www.tascam.com.

Vox
2010 Guitar Series Line-up

Vox is using its name in amplication to announce a major expansion of its roster of electric guitars. Debuting a selection of new solid-body and semi-hollowbody guitars with the SSC-33 Standard, solid-body, single cutaway SDC-55 Deluxe, solid-body, double cutaway HDC-77, as well as original Vox Virage guitar. Each guitar features the same inverse heel joint as the original Virages, deeply cut for free access to the upper frets, as well as Vox’s MaxConnect aluminum bridge. While the Virage relies on the proprietary Three-90 pickups, the new models are equipped with Vox CoAxe pickups. The pickups feature two modes (for entry-level models), and three selectable modes for clean, crunch, and lead tones (for upper-level models). Each guitar offers passive, analog volume, tone, and pickup-mode switching controls. All new models will be available April 2010 with pricing to be announced. Virage models are currently available at your local retailer. Visit www.vox.com for all the details.

Saint Blues
Woogie Board

Welcome race fans! The Woogie Board, the first production electric washboard, arrives in partnership with Cody Dickinson of the North Mississippi Allstars. It was his father’s love of roots, blues, and folk that introduced Dickinson to the washboard, electrifying it and marrying it to traditional guitar effects. “The electric washboard, which is utterly Cody’s instrument, is a thing unto itself” Dickinson’s father – legendary 1960s record producer/father – Jim says. Saint Blues and Dickinson have taken this home-grown, roots instrument and made it a true gig-worthy axe. It is handmade in Memphis from solid mahogany and finished with a hand-rubbed tung oil. The Woogie Board features enclosed dual-Piezo pickups, with a three-way switch for pickup selection, volume control knob, and a high-quality output jack all housed in a telecontrol plate built into the leg. “The electric washboard is taking things to a whole new level. It’s never been done before, it’s completely unique, and there is tradition, so it kind of has all the makings of a juggernaut,” said Dickinson somewhat in jest. The Woogie Board is available to purchase through the Saint Blues site or at local retailers to be announced. Visit www.saintblues.com to get your fix.

B.J. Thomas was a country-flavored pop crooner in the era of the singer/songwriter. Still, Thomas’ ’60s classic hits, including the infectious “Hooked On A Feeling” and his seminal smash, “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head,” made him a star.

Because many of his biggest hits boasted overtly pop arrangements, through the years, Thomas’ catalog is more associated with the cheesy pop of Burt Bacharach (who co-wrote “Raindrops”). Make no mistake, B.J. Thomas was a mainstream pop singer searching for hits, unlike the singer/songwriters of the era like Paul Simon and James Taylor, whose more personal songs explored and revealed -– and also topped the charts. However, looking back and more importantly, listening to Thomas’ legacy, a more serious, stylized artist emerges. 

From 1966-73, Thomas released eight albums on Scepter Records — I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry, Tomorrow Never Comes, Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head, Everybody’s Out Of Town, On My Way, Young And In Love, and Most Of All, and Billy Joe Thomas — and worked with some of the best producers (including Memphis’ Chips Moman, who produced Elvis Presley’s 1969 acclaimed From Elvis In Memphis, which included “Suspiscious Minds” and “In The Ghetto”) and songwriters (the likes of Bacharach and Hal David, Barry Mann and Cynthia Weils) of the day. 

Now all these are reissued on four CDs (each offering two full albums and bonus tracks) – and the results yield a mix of major hits (also “I Just Can’t Help Believing” and No Love At All”) and impressive cover versions all with the trademark B.J. Thomas imprint. Thomas was a singles artist, so offered here are various interpretations of contemporary songs and various genres aimed at the charts, rather than cohesive-themed albums designed for listening and absorbing. 

The best of these as a full listening experience, not surprisingly, are Moman’s and Bacharach’s work. Each producer played to Thomas’ singing strength – a smooth country vibe with a husky pop buoyancy. In fact, Thomas’ signature sound is similar to the pop/gospel/country fusion that Presley favored toward the end of his career. The Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head/Everybody’s Out Of Town CD includes a veritable vintage snapshot of the late ’60s, including Thomas’ hummable title song by Bacharach and David, and several deserving, engaging covers of “Little Green Apples,” “Suspicious Minds,” “This Guy’s In Love With You,” “Everybody’s Talkin’,” “Bridge Over Troubled Water,” and “Always On My Mind.”

Throughout all eight releases, Thomas’ charismatic voice and laid-back phrasings are pleasingly featured on other defining originals and many impressive covers like “”I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry,” “Solitary Man,” “Hurting Each Other,” “Close To You,” and “Rainy Night In Georgia.” For  B.J. Thomas fans, these reissues probably are their holy grail. And it’s not too hard to hear why. The guy had the pop chops, and the people writing and arranging his songs knew how to craft and record a pop song.

B.J. Thomas made a cozy career singing “somebody done somebody wrong” songs, and 40 years later, his style endures.

– James Turano

If the adage holds true – that “rich is the examined life” – then it’s about time for society, as a whole, to grab its pipe and slippers, curl up in its comfiest recliner, and have a long, hard thoughtful stare into the ice-cold mirror. Chances are, Snow White’s unforgiving Maleficent might just be gazing back. What have we become in this Tiger-Woods, guilty-until-proven-innocent, media-controlled schadenfreude era? Look no further than Billy Corgan, people. The 42-year-old Smashing Pumpkins leader has lots to talk about at this surreal point in time. But do you want the ho-hum news or the real salacious dirt? Think carefully – once you’ve bitten into that poison apple, you’re a card-carrying part of the decadent problem.

Appearing: February 18th at LaSalle Power Co. in Chicago.

Corgan would love for all his fans to be aware of “A Song For A Son,” the first guitar-squealing single from his proposed 44-track set, Teargarden By Kaleidyscope. Especially since each track will be released online at www.smashingpumpkins.com, no strings attached, before being anthologized in 11 four-song EPs, and finally a deluxe box set for the serious collector. He’s also launching his own vanity imprint, with a kickoff signing already lined up: The Electric Prunes, with whose bassist Corgan recently worked as Spirits In The Sky, in tribute concerts to late Seeds stalwart Sky Saxon (with whom he was recording a comeback album; “And there’s some really interesting, beautiful unreleased music there,” Corgan promises).

The next composition to see release will be “Widow Wake My Mind,” a jagged-chorded, keyboard-buttressed ballad, followed by “Astral Planes” and “A Stitch In Time.” And the self-sufficient Svengali is playing/recording almost everything himself, aided in-studio by his longtime production cohort (and Catherine member) Kerry Brown and new drummer Mike Byrne, with provisional Pumpkins Jeff Schroeder (guitar) and Ginger Reyes (bass) hopping back on board for an upcoming tour. Original on/off band drummer Jimmy Chamberlin departed again last year, after ’07’s Zeitgeist album and ’08’s American Gothic EP. Additionally, Corgan just launched his own spiritual-themed blog, “Everything From Here To There,” in which he does, indeed, pore over his own existence. Often microscopically so. Which ought to be enough, relevant-fact-wise, right?

Not in this gossipy, 24-hour-news-channel age. At this writing, the latest issue of the photo-driven Us magazine has just hit the stands, with a Corgan-related story filed under “Hot Stuff.” Seems the quiet, privacy-seeking rocker has now become tabloid fodder by the simple act of dating pop star Jessica Simpson, 29 (who’s been run ragged by the paparazzi over the past few turbulent years). Several unnamed sources dish the trashy lowdown on the couple, who are “officially an item!” But why the exclamation point? Why, in fact, does society need to know any of these details at all? Some have speculated that our obsession with celebrity storylines are the one thing that unites America, rich and poor, and that as each yarn unspools to its often tragic climax, everyone keeping track around their watercoolers at work feels at one with a bigger picture: a hive mentality, with individual drones no longer able to form their own media-free opinion.

So therein hangs the tale. How does a King Bee like Corgan, who’s proven himself over 20-multi-platinum-selling years, make deeper music in a time that, a la Mike Judge’s brilliant Idiocracy, focuses squarely on the shiny surface? And who knows? By the time you read this, his relationship with Simpson already may be over, killed, perhaps, by the same nosy reporters and photographers who once trumpeted it with celebratory punctuation. And this breakup, if and when it occurs, will be excruciatingly documented, even televised, as if Giuliana Rancic and Ryan Seacrest truly feel empathy for any pain the lovers might be suffering. What happened to humanity’s innate grace and dignity? “Gone,” Corgan sighs, resigned to his Don Quixote quest of bringing intelligent art to the increasingly stupid masses. “It’s gone and it ain’t coming back.”

IE: What were you doing up in Northern California over Christmas?
Billy Corgan: Uhhh . . . girlfriend things. My girlfriend’s family lives up there.

IE: Jessica?
BC: Heh heh heh. Let’s just skip all that.

IE: Well, several entertainment sites promise to tell us who you’re dating. It’s sad that you’ve now turned into prey for tabloid predators. Even reality-TV shows all feature cutthroat people competing for some sleazy prize. What’s gone wrong, as you see it?
BC: I think we’re in a sort of exponential, continually accelerating sort of . . . self-examination? And one that’s probably unprecedented in human history. And technology, of course, is facilitating that. And there are interesting upsides. Like, for example, now people are their own media server. I don’t need anyone to print my quote – I can print my own quote, and if people wanna pick it up, they do. Which is interesting, because sometimes I say things that I think are pretty edgy, and nobody gives a shit. And then I’ll say something that’s really benign, and people pick up on it and suddenly it’s on somebody else’s Web site. But then you get into the whole Andy Warhol thing, where we’re now counting down to four minutes, 59 seconds. And it’s a fascinating insight into the human psyche in that everybody, in some sort of way, really wants to be famous. And you can’t say they’re wrong to want to be famous, because there’s something about being famous that feeds the inner child and makes you feel special. And when we’re around children, we always say “You’re special,” because we want them to grow up to be special. But this is like a short-cut to “special” that seems to not quite care about the consequences of how you get there. And in our world – and I’m sure you’ve seen this – there’s been a breakdown in what I would call “critical media,” where there’s no separation of church and state anymore. There was a time when a Nirvana album was reviewed differently than, let’s say, a Monkees record. But now everybody’s on the same playing field, and they’re supposed to adhere to the same sets of rules. And the indie world, the Pitchfork world, will pretend that it’s a different set of rules, but not really. Everybody follows the same rules, because might is right, and even the indie world’s reaction to might is a complete overreaction.

IE: Well, Britain just watched Simon Cowell get livid when his latest “X Factor” winner didn’t secure the usual No. 1 Christmas week. Rage Against The Machine did, after an online anti-Cowell campaign.
BC: I saw that. And there’s been an erosion of . . . let’s call it “the credentials.” And one needs to look no further than what gets played on alternative radio these days. If you would’ve gone back in a time machine and visited one of the leading alternative stations, and told them that in 10 or 15 years they’d be playing popularity-contest winners and people who had no alternative-music pedigree, they’d go “Nah! That’ll never happen! Because our whole station’s image is based on the idea that we’re playing music that comes from the streets!” So we’ve basically had everything co-opted, hijacked, and popped out, and it goes back to the Warhol premise, which is that the obsession with being famous has been disconnected from the need to actually do something to be famous. And from my point of view, and where it gets really weird is, it inverts on itself now, where oftentimes I get more attention for things that have nothing to do with music than I do my music. And it puts me in a weird position, because, on some level, I do have to get people to listen to my music. So the jerk in the audience goes, “Yeah, but if you did better music, maybe they’d pay attention!” But c’mon. It’s not that simple. I run into people who are fans, they own six of my albums, they’ve been to five shows over nine years, and they don’t even know you have a new song out. Because they’re just not in contact with your form of media. So you can look at who’s listening and say, “Oh, not enough people are listening.” But you can’t be sure in this day and age that anybody is even coming in contact with what you’ve done. So it’s really hard to gauge what real value is.

IE: But yet everyone’s seen photographs of you and Jessica together. Print media is being replaced by visual, which only accelerates ignorance.
BC: Well, I say now to my friends, “Music’s just not enough.” Look at our culture, look who’s succeeding, and it’s usually not music-driven anymore. Or it’s music-driven, with some other angle: I won something; there’s a backstory; I did something controversial. And when I look at somebody like Adam Lambert – whom I don’t know but who I think is talented – he’s come up through a system that’s told him already, “Hey – you’re gonna get more attention by being provocative than being talented!” Does that mean that’s why he’s done what he has? No. But the feedback is there. What’s popular these days are the things that satisfy the most. You no longer have an artistically driven culture that can ride people to the mainstream. And I would say that ours was the last generation that was able to do that in an effective manner. I mean, taking street-level music and crossing it over? It’s happened in rap culture, so I can’t say that it hasn’t happened. But from a culture that was continually doing that, from Elvis and Louis Armstrong on back? It no longer seems to be able to do it, just on the incendiary sexual nature of the music. Now it has to basically have sex on top of it. And that’s when you get into the pelvis-shoving-in-the-camera stuff [on many contemporary rock videos from female artists].

IE: I think Idiocracy got it right.
BC: In a beautiful stroke of synchronicity, that’s one of the new Pumpkins drummer Mike Byrne’s favorite movies. So that shows you where his head’s at. But is humanity over with? I have a slightly different take. I tend to look at from a more spiritual perspective, which is that things need to break, or get broken enough, and then people will find their inner reserve and wanna fix them. I see signs of light, but I think it’s gonna get a lot darker, as in it’s always darkest before the dawn. But I do think that we’re headed the wrong way, and we’ve been heading the wrong way for awhile. And it’s accelerating, like that moment in Willy Wonka where they’re in the tunnel, it’s getting faster and everyone’s getting more freaked out. I think we’re testing our own tolerance for just how weird and creepy it can get.

IE: Advertising is partially to blame. As in “I shop, therefore I am!”
BC: I think it’s deeper than that. My personal beliefs are that there are forces that are purposely eroding the middle class and the intellectual structure of this country to allow it to be basically taken over by a fascist sort of framework. And I believe it’s pretty obvious that it’s already happening. Whoever the people are in charge of this world? They do an interesting thing – they run out voices to make you think you’re being heard, understood, or recognized. And it’s not just for ratings, like Glenn Beck – it’s a way to control the debate. If you say to me, “Hey! There are little green men in my backyard!” I can go, “Hey! I’ve seen ‘em, too!” So there’s nothing to fight if I’m already agreeing with you. There’s only one problem – [Beck] is on the network that helps create part of the scenario that we’re in. He’s not an “independent voice.” Independent voices don’t take commercial breaks.

IE: It’s kinda like that scene in They Live, where Rowdy Roddy Piper finally puts on the sunglasses and sees the “Consume!” ads everywhere.
BC: But the funny thing is, it’s not even subliminal anymore. Whatever that is, you don’t have to put on the sunglasses – it’s right in front of your face. We are living in an age of overt propaganda – it’s not even hidden anymore. Watch a political debate, and the pundits won’t debate the veracity of what’s being said – they’ll debate how well the person manipulated their weaknesses to appear as strengths. They’ll basically give points for, “Well, I know he’s totally full of shit. But he did a good job of convincing us that he isn’t!” If you went back to [Walter] Cronkite days, they weren’t saying that stuff.

IE: It was clear after those first few Bush/Gore debates – intelligence has now become a liability in America.
BC: Hey, it’s been a liability in my musical life! It’s been a liability all along! And I’ve had a few journalists who say, “They don’t like it if you’re smarter than them. Or even if you think you’re smarter.” But I’ve never been very good at playing the dumb genius.

IE: It seems like you’re going through a metamorphosis right now. How did you finally tap into your spiritual side?
BC: I think I just got to the point where I had to take an inventory of how I got where I got, for better or worse. I was able to look back on 20 years of my life and say, “O.K., where has this worked? And where has it not worked?” And where it worked was always where I trusted myself, no matter what anybody said or thought around me. I just trusted my instincts. And every time it had not gone well, it’s where I didn’t listen to my instincts and I betrayed my own inner common sense. And I realized that a lot of what I thought was good in my life was more in alignment with . . . let’s call ‘em “basic spiritual principles,” more than what I would call “basic material principles.” So there are good ways to make money and there are bad ways, and it’s not always an easy call, ya know? I got hammered for selling songs to commercials, when only five years ago I was bragging how I’d never sold any of the Pumpkins songs to commercials and how they’d been kept pure. Then I sold “Today” to Visa, but the person who really changed my mind on that was Pete Townshend. I’d read an interview – and I know him a little bit, so I’ve even talked to him about it – where he basically said, “Who gives a fuck if they lost their virginity in the back seat of a car to ‘My Generation’? I don’t give a shit. I put it out there to fucking be heard and sold, and I don’t care how they fucking do it!” And why is Bob Dylan doing corporate gigs? At some point, if my heroes aren’t holding to something, why the fuck am I? And I looked around and thought, “Well, no one in Alternativeland will claim me – they’ll piss on me, but they won’t claim me, even though I helped invent the genre. So where do I make this right?” And I’m not saying God came down and told me “Sell your song to Visa!” I’m saying a person, a man, has to be O.K. with who he is. So I found more solace, more peace on every level – in my musical life, my personal life, my internal life – by subscribing to spiritual principles, and about five, seven years ago I started paying more attention. And the more attention I paid, the better I felt, the less crazy I felt. And here I am, 20 years later, still able to sell records and all that stuff, so I must be here for a reason. And it’s not to annoy people, even though I’ve done a good job of that. So I started finding a deeper connected purpose with spiritual ideas about what it means to help others, serve others, and in that way serve yourself. And that led me to a place where I was comfortable enough to start talking about it. Even though I know it’s a career-killer, I don’t care, because I think it’s more punk rock to be righteously angry and spiritually forward than it is to continually wear the leather jacket with the tattoos, as if that’s somehow dangerous. That’s not dangerous anymore – they use those guys on commercials now! And as an artist, I’m attracted to the dangerous part. As someone who grew up in alternative rock, starting with Cheap Trick, I’m attracted to where it’s like, “Whoa! I don’t know how I feel about this!”

IE: I don’t trust anyone who hasn’t gone to edge of the abyss and stared in.
BC: Yeah. That’s the Nietzsche quote: “Be careful, because it’ll stare back into you!” I mean, look – Blondie was provocative in 1978. So Lady Gaga will never be as provocative as Blondie was, or Madonna was. That stuff’s been tapped out. So even just as a human being, I’m like, “Where does this feel edgy again? Where does this feel like I’m into something I’m just not sure about?” And to me, God is the third rail of public life. You just don’t really touch it unless you’re giving your Grammy speech, going “I wanna thank Jesus Christ for giving me a hit record!” So for me, it just happened – I just started falling down that hill, until I woke up one day thinking, “I must be religious! And I’ve probably been religious all along – I just didn’t know how to put it into any kind of box.”

IE: You’re revolving Teargarden around four Tarot cards – the Child, the Fool, the Skeptic and the Mystic. Was the idea to give the songs away based in your new spiritual mindset?
BC: Well, there is a spiritual principle and there of course is a marketing principle in place. But for me, on a personal level, what I’m trying to do is rekindle the flames in me that make me wanna get up every day and do this. And I find the Tarot fascinating. But I’m also pretty keen, historically, on why some of the greatest musicians and writers burn out at some point. I won’t name names, but you don’t have to look far for people who wrote unbelievable songs between the ages of 20 and 30, who never again even came close to writing anything on that level. So is that karma? Does God sorta take it away? Or has it got something to do with the system? And my opinion is that there’s something in that system that inverts itself, because when you get so known for doing something and you don’t wanna betray the audience, you kinda get locked into a philosophy. But as you get older and life changes, you don’t have the same impulses, so if you’re suddenly into reggae, you can’t play reggae because your audience isn’t gonna like it. And something dies in the artist, that joy of discovery. So over the last few years, I’ve really come to watch my . . . internal self-interest. I mean, I’m a skilled person – I can write you a song if I don’t fucking care. But the best songs come from a place of caring, of commitment and excitement. And I have this contentious relationship with my audience – they just keep getting mad at me because I don’t wave the white flag and become whatever it is I’m supposed to become now. Like some middle-aged statesman of “Gee, weren’t the ’90s great?” But they weren’t that fucking great. And that song wasn’t that good – I’m sorry. And even though the overall reaction to “Song For A Son” has been very positive, part of that positivity was that it was familiar. And, back to Pete Townshend, he said something to me personally that applies, he said, “You have to understand that for one moment in their life, you said exactly what they wanted to hear. And unfortunately, they’re just not interested in anything else you have to say. So get used to it.” But I’m not ready to throw in that towel yet.

IE: There was a nice quote on your “Everywhere” site, saying how you now strive to combine the enthusiasm of a child with the grace of an adult.
BC: Well, that’s all I have left to do. I’ve already done Angry Young Man. Already done “Gee, I almost killed myself but now I’m back.” And I’ve already done the “I hate you all!” art trip. The only thing left for me to do is just be happy and be excited and try and make great music.

– Tom Lanham

Joe Pug doesn’t want you to poach his music from illicit Web sites; rather he wants to give it to you . . . for free. And he hopes you’ll share it with others. Simply e-mail the Chicago-based singer/songwriter or sign up for his mailing list to receive sampler CDs meant for your personal enjoyment and to disperse among your social circle. The idea behind the strategically generous offer is simple.

Appearing: Saturday, February 27th at Lincoln Hall in Chicago.

“When people hear about my music from friends who they trust rather than from an advertisement on a radio station or MTV . . . when that person says, ‘Hey man, you should check out this guy Joe, he’s all right,’ there’s a lot more credibility there and I think there’s a better chance of that person actually going out and listening,” Pug explains. “And that’s all you can ever ask for is for one person to listen to one song one time.”

Pug plans on keeping the system intact despite this month’s release of his first full-length album, The Messenger, and signing with Lightning Rod Records. One of the “sticking points” of the agreement reached with the label centered on the freedom to continue sending out CDs with at least one track from the new album to eager and potential fans.

Even at 25, Pug knows better than to stray from his humble beginnings. “You start grassroots and you continue grassroots,” he insists. Whether it means playing six different living rooms in one wintry Chicago night; crisscrossing the country all alone in a minivan; opening for the likes of Josh Ritter and Steve Earle; or earning coveted slots at last summer’s Newport Folk Festival and Lollapalooza, the earnest performer takes each step in stride. It sure beats toiling away at an unfulfilling day job.

After putting in time as a carpenter and sneaking into the studio at night to haphazardly lay tracks that eventually made up the attention-getting EPs Nation Of Heat and In The Meantime, Pug’s relentless touring and self-promotion enabled him to focus solely on music and make a proper record.

“This is a very big deal. It’s just one of those things where I dreamed and dreamed and dreamed about it and it’s just as good in reality as it was in my dreams,” Pug admits. “If I could just stay at this level where this is all I do, I can sort of have an income that takes care of the modest things that I need in life, then I’m happy. This is great.”

One listen to The Messenger erases that pretty picture. Pug’s stark vocals, deceptively simple lyricism, and inviting acoustic flair ensure his upward trajectory. The topical “Bury Me Far (From My Uniform)” puts him on par with Dylan’s observational gifts while “Speak Plainly, Diana” allows him to concoct folk-rock magic with a full band. The solemn “How Good You Are” stabs a knife dripping with longing right through the heart just as a hopeful, Wilbury-esque jangle buoys the album’s title track.

Turning to penning songs after dropping out of the University Of North Carolina one year short of graduating, Pug equates his playwriting studies to composing a ditty sans guitar in hand and “just really crafting words and spending a very long time crossing out one word and replacing it and then replacing it with the word that you crossed out and back and forth for 30 minutes – that sort of neurosis.”

Despite his ability to break down an emotion’s essence into prose, Pug often struggles with the words. “Writing has always been like really, really, really difficult. There’s some writers who really look forward to it and they just sit down and the words just fly out. But, for me, writing always has and always will be – not exactly a torturous process – but definitely sitting down and doing battle,” he confesses.

“It’s the one thing that I can imagine no matter how many lifetimes you’d ever have, you’d never be able to master this. And what’s really cool about writing is there’s sort of this artistic side where quality is really undefinable [sic] and then there’s the nuts-and-bolts side of just making sure everything fits perfectly in the meter,” Pug says.

Like any true sucker for the written word, Pug cites Strunk and White’s “Elements Of Style” reference guide when discussing how sometimes detouring from the beaten path can result in a better song.

“It’s a really good book and it explains technical things . . . and there’s a very brief passage on what style is, but at the end of the day no one knows what style really is. No one knows why this sentence sounds better than this other sentence, so it’s all sort of a big fucking crapshoot. I love that part of the book,” Pug says. “They spend all that time laying out these rules and then in the last half of the book they explain why it’s totally all right to break those rules if the sentence just sounds better.”

Songs don’t get the seal of approval until Pug performs them for an audience. “It’s something about being there in the room with all those people experiencing what you’ve written. You get much more attuned to the shortcomings than you would have been in your bedroom the night before,” he explains. “So, I get a chance to go out and live with these songs for a little while before I record them and make them part of my catalog.”

Left to his own devices, Pug would choose to stay on the road. “I really get off on the grind of tour,” he admits. “Just going to work at these different clubs, sometimes playing for 30 people, sometimes 100 – that’s the true vaudeville lifestyle. That’s really getting in, paying dues, and having crappy shows and having crappy turnouts sometimes and then being really surprised. I mean, the highs and the lows of that are really what makes it exciting.”

And if he ever feels the itch to perform, he can always find the nearest living room.

– Janine Schaults

Talking with Kieran Hebden in the dawn of 2010, it’s evident that the electronic producer known as Four Tet is doing exactly what he wants to with his music and life. Throughout our conversation, this Londoner sounds genuinely enthusiastic about his work and doesn’t talk about “what if” scenarios or dwell on what he could do better next time. He has his mind situated in the present and, when asked to look back, he simply views each of his albums, EPs, and side-projects as individual pieces of his intrepid journey in sample-based music.

Appearing: Friday, February 19th at Empty Bottle in Chicago.

With the support of labels as liberal as Domino Records, Hebden doesn’t think twice about marketability – he just creates. “I’ve been lucky where I’ve been in a situation for a long time where I’ve had total creative control over what I’ve done,” he says. “The labels that I’ve worked with . . . they let me choose every element of track orders and mixes and sounds and mastering and artwork.”

Not putting that freedom to waste, the producer’s first Four Tet album in more than four years, There Is Love In You, represents yet another angle in his mood-specific sonics. Without completely abandoning the hip-hop-leaning sound collages of his early albums Pause and Rounds, the new LP is still ultimately about gathering samples from “anything and everything” and melding them with whatever rhythm fits the feeling he’s attempting to convey. But in the past few years, Hebden’s overarching rhythmic focus has gradually shifted from a largely downtempo, broken-beat foundation to something much more lively.

“All the songs on the new record are much faster and most of them have got a kind of relentless 4-by-4 kick drum, which is just not something I was doing on the older records,” he explains.

Hebden cites working with seasoned jazz drummer Steve Reid for completely changing the way he thinks about percussion and much more. “My previous records have been more hip-hop influenced and working with Steve, everything kind of sped up,” he explains.

What began with Hebden on his laptop and samplers collaborating with Reid on drums at a few live shows around 2005, grew into four albums within three years. The Exchange Session Vol. 1, the first of the collective works, paved way for the pair’s ensuing releases with lengthy, free-wheeling jazz numbers that challenged Hebden more than ever.

“At the time, I had done three Four Tet albums, one after the other, and I was looking for something really different – something that would push me totally in a different direction and be a new experience,” he says of working with Reid. “It was everything I could have hoped for and more.”

Between restlessly knocking out recordings with Reid, Hebden began pursuing his new love of DJing by playing house music and other dance sounds in London. By late 2008, Hebden had begun a residency at the dark and compact Plastic People – his absolute favorite place to enjoy music. As he explains, “The people who go there are going to really have a musical experience – it’s not about getting dressed up.”

This subterraneous spot with low ceilings and sparse light became the testing grounds for his new, more club-friendly Four Tet material like the curiously chill techno cut “Love Cry.” Once these tracks sounded good in the confines of Plastic People, Hebden knew if they were complete.

“It’s a really traditional way for, say a dance producer, to make tracks and to try them out in their sets, but even though it’s quite a conventional thing, it was a pretty new way of doing things for me,” he explains of the ad hoc rehearsal process.

Even with Hebden being known for playing unreleased material in his sets, the Plastic People crowd was initially unaware that they were getting down to Four Tet tracks in progress.

“One of the nice things in trying out a new track is that you know nobody’s heard it anywhere before and having it go down pretty well and sound good over the system – those are the signs that make you feel like things are going in the right direction” he says.

– Max Herman

To find out more how the Plastic People sessions went, grab the February issue of Illinois Entertainer, free throughout Chicagoland.

Coming off a meteoric two years – starting with 2008’s stellar, honky-tonkin’ debut, The Good Life (Bloodshot), followed quickly in 2009 by the much more urban-indie Midnight At The Movies and earning both a new/emerging artist Americana Music Award and GQ fashion spread in the process – Justin Townes Earle is at home in a favorite New York City bar while on a month-long holiday break prior to resuming touring in January.

Appearing: Saturday, February 27th at Lincoln Hall in Chicago.

But it’s not all R&R for Earle. In addition to a post-New Year’s invitation to take a highly coveted solo turn in front of a veritable musician’s “who’s who” at Levon Helm’s barn upstate – which he admits made him more than a little nervous when tapped to take the lead verse on “The Weight” – he’s also been playing unannounced gigs at small venues around town, working out new musicians and set lists for the upcoming tour, as well as testing the audience waters with material for his next CD, which, true to form as one who’s described his music as “Southern American,” Earle says will lean more on a real gospel-ish sound. Not necessarily songs about Jesus, mind you (although Earle knows all about repentance and redemption), as much as “lots of handclapping and background singers and horns and piano and all that good stuff.”

While Earle is used to being in the public eye – he is, after all, the son of Steve Earle and even toured with him as a utility player and guitar tech – the person in the stagelight today is far removed from the uncontrolled, highly addictive personality he traces back to as early as 11-years old (a trait that even led his own father to fire him when he was 20). Openly candid about his past problems with both needles and bottles (“I was quite fond of both” he notes), he credits his decision to get “serious” about being a musician that eventually helped him kick his demons – though hardly overnight.

“[It was] when I quit school, when I was around 15,” he says. “And that was just kind of, it was really the only legal option that I had at the time, you know, that wasn’t going to get me in a whole lot of trouble. Well it did get me in a whole lot of trouble, but not in a whole lot of trouble fast,” he adds with a laugh. “And it probably could have killed me, but not as fast as the way I was going before,” he says with more laughter.

“But yeah, I just decided that it was what I was going to do. And after many years of tripping over my own feet with the partying and the whole thing – I thought music was just one big party – I kind of settled in and started realizing that it’s more than that. It is art. And it’s work. And, you know, artists have to work, too. It’s not just one of those things that’s beamed down from outer space. When you get out of practice and you stop reading books, [when] we stop taking anything in and then we stop putting anything out. I think that it’s very important to make sure we keep ourselves up as artists. And it took me a long time to realize that I needed to protect me and protect the artist,” he concludes.

Indicative of when music was still just one big party was the time Earle spent living in Chicago – starting a few years after he quit school, which he recounts with his usual candor and wit.

– David C. Eldredge

For the full story of Earle’s Chicago escapades, grab the February issue of Illinois Entertainer, available free throughout Chicagoland.

It’s hard to pinpoint exactly when old age becomes a source of amusement, but the thrash-metal community caught quite a jolt when the frontman of its charter member, Slayer, had to cancel a megatour because of back problems. (If only it had been a hip.) If it had been one of Dave Mustaine’s lackeys they’d have simply moved on; if the lineup were different and Ozzy Osbourne fell off his Bowflex we’d all laugh. But Tom Araya – thee Tom Araya?

It’s for the best. Let’s not kid. Araya’s 48. The original Clash Of The Titans Tour – a sequel to which his injury has foiled – ran in 1990. Twenty years later that lineup was gonna do what? Play hits sets in hour-long compartments? Satan would be so . . . embarrassed. So February 5th, when this jaunt was set to hit UIC Pavilion, you’ll be where? At the doctor, hopefully. Getting that trick knee scoped. It has since been rescheduled for August 20th.

Like Dylan In The Movies

You go through life and you end up with rhymes. For us, there was an 8th grader called Sim (rhymed with Tim; short for Simon), dorks you pounded on who played virtual games called Sims, then there’s a Central-Illinois-based metal fest called CIM, and now we have the Chicago International Movies & Music festival: CIMM. And it’s kickin’ our ass.

Though only in its second incarnation (March 4th to 7th), CIMM has synergy in its blood. On opening night, the film Universalove is co-directed by something called Naked Lunch while a documentary, William S. Burroughs: A Man Within, plays across town. Ah, dovetailing. This year’s fest (catch more info at cimmfest.org) also features a film about and supported live by Robyn Hitchcock, something about Kiss’ Paul Stanley, and more by Jon Langford (a pic about Mekons), DJ Spooky, and ex-Hüsker Dü man Grant Hart.

Music With Teeth

My dentist, with dollar signs in her eyes, swears to me I grew up where there was no flouride. That’s why I’ll be strapping a beat-up guitar on my back and heading to the Chicago Federation Of Musicians (656 W. Randolph) on March 4th for a free consultation! Actually, you need to contact Music Cares in advance for an appointment, so you can get in line for a free exam with basic cleaning, polishing, and two x-rays provided by Mobile Dentists. We ask all boxcar banjoists to assess the threat to their career before applying.

House Of Wax

At this point, Wax Trax Records has been closed for nearly as long as it was open in Chicago (‘78 to ‘95), but its incalcuable impact was in its galvanizing properties for Chicago punks and others as well as becoming the international nexus for industrial rock. In early January, co-founder Dannie Flesher followed Jim Nash into the next life, dying at home in Hope, Arkansas aged 58.

Flesher and Nash originally opened the store in Denver, but moved to 2449 N. Lincoln three years later – eventually spawning a record label that would issue KFMDM, Underworld, My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult, and countless Al Jourgensen side-projects. The imprint was eventually sold to TVT in ‘92 following money problems, and Flesher dropped out of music when Nash succumbed to AIDS complications in ‘95, but the business aspect of it always seemed superfluous to the store. It was the institution, the engine that got nearly everything going with Flesher quietly pulling strings.

– Steve Forstneger

IE: “That Metal Show” – how did you get dragged into it?
Don Jamieson: They didn’t have to drag me! I’ve been trying to get on TV for 13 years. Basically, Jim [Florentine], Eddie [Trunk], and I are best buddies.

Appearing: Friday, February 10th to 12th at Zanie’s (1548 N. Wells) in Chicago.

IE: So you’re actually friends?
DJ: I know people watch the show and see me and Jim busting Eddie’s balls really hard, but that’s how we act when the cameras aren’t rolling. It’s been funny because Eddie’s fans from the radio show will write him e-mails, “Why do you hang out with those assholes? They don’t give you any respect.” And then people who know Jim and I from comedy say, “That guy’s such a stick in the mud. Why do you have him on the show?”‘ Some people don’t get it.

IE: Are there artists you’re hoping to get on there?
DJ: Ozzy would be a major coup for us. He became a reality TV star and unfortunately a lot of people see him like that, but he’s still the singer from Black Sabbath and has more one-liners than Rodney Dangerfield did. We might have to put up subtitles: “Google what he just said!” Eddie Van Halen we’d love to have.

IE: What is your official stance on the Iron Maiden-singer debate?
DJ: It’s no secret I’m a huge [Paul] Di’Anno fan and think the first two Maiden albums are their best albums. But, at the same time they would never have gotten as big as they did without Bruce Dickinson. But if you want my opinion, I love the Di’Anno stuff. I think he’s the better singer; I like the band’s direction better. But he was also a maniac.

IE: You’re doing a comedy tour?
DJ: The routing is unbelievable. I’m touring as many cold-weather cities as I can this winter. Most comics go to Florida, Texas, and Southern California; I go right through Baltimore, Chicago, Pittsburgh, places like that in the snow. Because traveling’s not difficult enough.

IE: What’s your stage act? High concept?
DJ: [Laughs]. No, it’s not high concept. It’s not “Blue Collar Comedy,” but it’s for blue-collar people. I’m not afraid to talk about anything. And then end with the filthy stuff and we all go home happy.

Don Jamieson co-hosts “That Metal Show” Saturday nights on VH1 Classic.

“Break Little Branches,” one of the five tracks on Arboreal by the Chicago/Austin, Texas-based band Box Of Baby Birds, sounds like one of the more introspective and meandering songs by Red Red Meat. The folk-rock offerings, penned by Gary Calhoun James, are delicate compositions that rely on hushed vocals augmented by guitar, keys, and violin. Fleeting moments on “Coins, Letters, Numbers” burst with bass and drums, while other tracks exploring the band’s subtle, understated style. (www.myspace.com/boxofbabybirds)
– Jason Scales

Cavalry is out to prove that straight-up, glam-free rock ‘n’ roll is still alive and kickin’, and on its debut EP, the band makes a pretty strong case. Each of Snake Skins’ seven tracks hits with no-nonsense rock that has the attitude of Rise Against meshed with the accessible melodies of Nickelback (but far less-polished, in the good way). Frontman Collin Patrick delivers his vocals with conviction and authenticity, yet avoids going the screamo route, a welcome change. (www.myspace.com/cavalry)
– Carter Moss

Befitting its collection of talented multi-instrumentalists and collaborative writing process, Crooks And Children’s music is finely detailed, with lush textures layered in sweeping arrangements of dramatic scope. On its demo for its latest release, Night Is A Good Child, withering vocals take on an otherworldly feel as the passionate emoting resonates against a backdrop of patient drumming, echoing piano tones, and gently strummed guitar in the languorous “Black Cat,” while a detached theatrical air and jaunty thump fuels “Shoefly.” (www.crooksandchildren.com)
– Patrick Conlan

Not to be confused with the psychedelic prog band from the ’70s, Czar is a mutant fusion of brooding, heads-down post-rock, freewheeling, angular noise, and some surprising melodic passages. Vocals are kept to a minimum as its menacing rock morphs from a disjointed and spastic cacophony to a tightly coiled groove with the drop of a jagged chord. You can hear traces of Pelican in the murky, blast-furnace metal of “Depthless Paradise Of Terror” and the epic, billowing ebb and flow of “Above. Below.” (www.myspace.com/czarchicago)
– Patrick Conlan

Dressed For Radio delivers a quartet of three-minute pop tunes with a clean, jaunty, vocal-charged ’80s-esque new wave sound akin to say Elvis Costello or Joe Jackson. While things get a little more interesting when the band tweaks the tempo and strips the lyrics to the basics on “Roll,” one senses slight stumbles in the band’s execution of the changes. (www.myspace.com/dressedforradio)
– David C. Eldredge

Enforcer’s Classic Chicago Metal is an odds-and-ends compilation of studio tracks and live rehearsal recordings, dating back to hair-metal’s heyday in the mid ’80s. Clearly influenced by the NWOBHM — especially the roaring stomper “Born To Avenge” and the ripping crunch of the galloping “High Treason” — this metal is a throwback to chunky distortion and gleaming solos. Typical for the genre, lyrics focus on the occult, vengeance, and an impending “final conflict,” delivered with fiery passion and expressive falsetto howls. Kudos to Enforcer for keeping the faith all of these years. (www.myspace.com/enforcermusic)
– Patrick Conlan

According to chief writer/multi-instrumentalist Travis Lee Wiggins, the 10 songs collected on ever-evolving musical project Essex Chanel’s Love Is Proximity represents its most accessible album yet, one that “could be played in a Starbucks and sold at the front counter.” Indeed, outside of the Dixie honky-tonk paced opener, Wiggins’ soft vocals against subdued strings and muted horns predominate the remaining songs about, unsurprisingly, love — which, while pleasant enough background music at its best, leaves one fairly indistinguishable from another in a single listening. There are some 30 songs to this cycle of love online, complete with “how to” videos so you can create your own Starbucks at home. (www.essexchanel.com)
– David C. Eldredge

Face Time Police coined the term “pop macchiato” to describe its highly polished music on The Definition Of Deviation. The third disc from Brian and James Serra, it offers a radio-friendly mix of hard rock and rap on “Seashells,” while the aggressive synth beats of “Minute Made” sound destined for the dancefloor. Noted engineer Roger Lian of Masterdisk mastered this otherwise DIY effort, giving it an even more professional allure. (www.facetimepolice.com)
– Terrence Flamm

Wrapped in a handwritten, yellow-lined paper note explaining “He’s a 17 yr. old from Bartlett getting started & would happy to get a review in Around Hear,” the two-song CD from guitarist/songwriter John Ford displays chops, talents, and abilities numerous submissions from others twice his age can only dream of having. Ford’s solid vocals bring an early Ryan Adams to mind; likewise the pop craftsmanship/chord changes of his songs conjure Steve Forbert. Stop-you-dead-in-your-tracks impressive debut! More, please! (zepmanjmf [at] comcast.net)
– David C. Eldredge

Ambient jazz in the Israeli tradition is an acquired taste to say the least, but when it comes to Marbin’s self-titled release, there’s no denying the duo’s musical capabilities. Dani Rabin’s guitar and Danny Markovich’s smooth saxophones complement one another no matter the listener’s cultural background, though the pair’s ultra-chill instrumentals could insight drowsiness outside of a meditative atmosphere. (www.myspace.com/marbinmusic)
– Andy Argyrakis

Men Who Listen serve up an extremely well-produced 12-song debut that runs the gamut of rock styles: from the fun, fast, tongue-in-cheeky “I Hate Tom Cruise” and the honky-tonkin’ “My Baby’s The Bartenda,” to the Led Zep-esque chorded “(Dead & Buried) In Your Love” and prog-esque ballad closer “Forever.” Proof of the production savvy is found where the band wisely double-tracks the plain-spoken vocals and its crisp sound throughout, making for a solid intro. (www.myspace.com/menwholisten)
– David C. Eldredge

Denis Pesh grew up in Russia, but after arriving in America in 1993 and immediately falling in love with both music and English, he began writing music. Fast-forward to 2009 and his debut LP Promise, whose main problem is that each track begins with so much promise (simple melodies plunked out on piano or acoustic guitar), but by the time the the harmonies devolve into an odd ’70s folk b-side kickin. Pesh is obviously influenced by Dylan, but something is definitely lost in the translation. (www.denispesh.com)
– Carter Moss

Featuring members of Freshwater Collins and Decibully, Will Phalen & The Stereo Addicts are a local supergroup of sorts. But the folk-doused acoustic rockers demonstrate complete cohesion rather than a haphazardly assembled one-off throughout Middle West, which ranges between the rootsy flavors of Son Volt, Robbie Fulks, or Neil Young during a stripped-down Farm Aid Set. (www.myspace.com/willphalenandthestereoaddicts)
– Andy Argyrakis

Three-piece power poppers The Rikters provides an instant throwback to the glory days of Elvis Costello & The Attractions or Smoking Popes, while also channeling the witty appeal of Ben Folds throughout its self-titled, full-length debut. The group’s heavy on hooks and charging guitar action throughout “Give Me Tonight” and “All My Life,” while providing some laid-back garage rock on “Take Time,” suggesting there’s no reason why the band can’t follow in the Popes’ steps. (www.myspace.com/therikters)
– Andy Argyrakis

Everything moves at a leisurely pace on singer/guitarist Rob Scallon’s 16-song The Ride Home. He showcases his intricate strumming on instrumentals like “Regret” and “Everyway Is North,” but his talky vocal style weighs several of the other tracks down. “Run On Sentences” and the title track have enough pep to interest indie-rock fans, but some listeners might find themselves nodding off before The Ride Home is over. (www.myspace.com/ robscallon)
– Terrence Flamm

Though his wife’s untimely death led Eric Behrenfeld to curtail his career as a longtime blues sideman, it also led to the launch of Tiki Cowboys, an innovative solo project that blends, as the name implies, country and Polynesian influences. A Taste Of Tiki is the title of his first ukulele-powered EP, which showcases four delectable ditties including the infectious “Tiki Lady” and the bittersweet “My Little Song.” It’s a fleeting yet altogether pleasurable polyphonic pupu platter. (www.tikicowboys.com)
– Jeff Berkwits

Chicago-based Stanley Ross (moniker for Nicholas Meiers & his band) did all you can ask for on a sophomore release: start with what worked on the debut, and evolve. Intact on Here With Me is the signature Stanley Ross alt-rock sound, sure to please college students everywhere. And this time around, the band learns to really let loose once in awhile (“Lasso” and “Untitled #94″) and channel its inner Queens Of The Stone Age. (www.stanleyross.com)
– Carter Moss

Unplugged guitars and folk vocals put Them Damn Kids somewhere among a modern-day James Taylor, Jim Croce, or Cat Stevens. However, Arm Yourself With Perspicacity lacks the songwriting chops and practically perfect melodies that made any of those tunesmiths famous, suggesting the otherwise acoustically inviting environment needs a provocative facelift. (www.myspace.com/themdamnkids)
– Andy Argyrakis

There’s an intentional retro vibe to the self-titled, three-song EP from The Ton, a duo with one foot firmly planted in ’90s industrial and the other in ’80s new wave. “Wires” is ruggedly rhythmic, with “Lies” providing a somewhat more refined but equally forceful aura. Only “Games” is seriously flawed, suffering from a mediocre vocal performance. Overall it’s a decent though not terribly memorable sampler. (www.myspace.com/wearetheton)
– Jeff Berkwits

Sigh

It’s become an unspoken rule that we, music writers and critics, must crown such an album within the first 59 days of the new year. You can squeeze one in before the new year? Fantastic! I’m fairly sure scribes who cover any of the arts are guilty as well, but as guilty? In music, the chance to say “It’s 2010’s first great record” is the young, exposed gazelle separated from its herd, and writers are the slobbering, starving wild dogs in hiding . . . waiting. Ready.

Maybe we’re still high on the egotistical buzz of our we’re-published-so-you-should-give-a-shit “official” Best Of ‘09 lists (perfect opportunity to mention mine is in last month’s issue), or maybe ratings, lists, and disposition are so embedded in our brains that the need to dub something fucking fantastic — or fucking horrible — so quickly is just part of the career, like financial embarrassment and opportunities to discuss a famous musician’s line of BBQ/hot sauce with him.

But, as many times as you’ve fallen for this trick only to end up wasting valuable money and time on a shitty record, you still play fetch every time we fling it, don’t you? So do I, grasshoppers. So do I. Hence my interest in the new Sigh album, Scenes From Hell (The End). When I saw big, bold-face type on a certain heavy-metal site that proclaimed this to be this year’s first Chosen One (with 15 days left in 2009!), I had to hear. Great? Nah. Bizarre? Definitely. It could be — despite eight studio records in 20 years — I’ve never truly sat down and listened to the Japanese group and, therefore, wasn’t mentally prepared for the band’s violent jumble of black metal, classical, jazz, and sociopathic hatred. Some elements of Scenes From Hell, like the spaghetti-western horns of “The Summer Funeral,” are absolutely beautiful. But where there’s a beauty, Disney taught us, there’s a beast, and Sigh’s beast ain’t trying to win a beautiful, young woman’s heart. No, the beast that dwells in tracks such as “Vanitas” and “Prelude To An Oracle” will rip her body apart limb by limb, feast upon her flesh, and perform some sort of Satanic werewolf ritual with her still-beating heart. It all makes sense given vocalist/saxophonist Dr. Mikannibal’s claims of drinking cow’s blood before stripping nude for her studio takes. (Sources close to “Mosh” say Yakuza’s Bruce Lamont does the same.)

I can’t tell you what I think the Best Of 2010 . . . So Far is because I’ve yet to hear anything that convinces me it exists (plus, I fully expect High On Fire’s Snakes For The Divine — February 23rd! — to easily slay any foe with the possible exception of Nachtmystium’s Black Meddle Pt. 2), but I can tell ya what I’ve been jamming a lot just ’cause I think it’s cool: Barn Burner’s Bangers (February 16th). I was surprised — also a little pissed, because such geographical circumstances reduce opportunities for us Americans to see Barn Burner live (my hunch is they kill) — to discover the band is Canadian. They sound so damn U.-fucking-S.A. Specifically Southern U.S.A. Isn’t there enough sludgy, fuzzy Southern metal, you ask? Yes and no. There’s plenty of it, but not much done well. Bangers is. “Brohemoth,” “Holy Smokes,” “Half Past Haggard,” and everything else on the group’s 11-song Metal Blade debut are stone-cold Sabbathy grooves (guitarists Kevin Keegan and Marc Doucette riff first and ask questions later) funneled through stacks of sweaty distortion, and saturated in bong water. It ain’t Corrosion Of Conformity, but it’s the closest we’ll get while the real C.O.C. continue to deny us a follow up to 2005’s outstanding In The Arms Of God.

LUCKY YOU: I was really late turning in “Mosh” this time. Otherwise, when Chicago Metal Factory honcho and occasional IE contributor (not to mention Macabre and Saint Vitus manager) Rodney Pawlak e-mailed me January 13th (sorry Steve) and asked if I could mention the new, awesome, CMF Web site, I wouldn’t have been able to so soon. Shit’s getting interactive at Thecmf.com! Promoters, bands, clubs, etc. can now create an account and edit/submit listings as needed, plus fans get the most extensive Chicagoland heavy-music calendar around and, if they dare see the face of evil, a forum.

DVDZ NUTS IN YO MOUTH: Here’s the great thing about music DVDs: They can make you give a shit about bands you otherwise wouldn’t. How many metalheads couldn’t give a squirt less about Lamb Of God but have, in fact, found themselves mesmerized by Walk With Me In Hell? When done right, a DVD can make you a fan, even if only for a few hours. Exodus‘ Shovel Headed Tour Machine: Live At Wacken And Other Assorted Atrocities (Nuclear Blast) is that DVD, more for the Other Assorted Atrocities than the Live At Wacken, though. Technically, Atrocities covers the band’s last five years on the road, but it reminisces enough to tell the Bay Area group’s hard-knock, rather-unlucky, sometimes-drug-addled tale. Interesting how the Paul Baloff (first Exodus singer; only recorded one record) years are so often discussed yet the Zetro (second singer; frontman during Exodus’ best years) era is all but ignored. Also interesting is the significant time dedicated to the band’s 2008 show at the now-closed Pearl Room in Mokena, during which they quit performing when frontman Rob Dukes witnessed security kick out and allegedly rough up stage-diving fans . . . Every single bone in my body wants to tell you Suicidal Tendencies‘ Live At The Olympic Auditorium (Suicidal) is great, but I can’t. It hurts. I love me some ST, but this DVD doesn’t love me back, mainly because there is nothing here but 15 songs and a few minutes of Mike Muir interview footage. It’s so bare that Credits (those that roll at the end of the movie) is a selection in the main menu. And don’t get fooled by the Interviews feature; it’s the exact Muir interview from the main presentation. The band’s career — essentially beginning as skate punks and evolving into thrash titans, plus all the lineup changes, not to mention being banned from playing in Los Angeles — is a pretty deep mine to extract from. No paydirt, though. A bit insulting for fans, given how long Live At The Olympic Auditorium has been on the shelf. The footage was shot in 2005, and during the show Muir tells the audience the DVD will be out in 2006 . . . yet the copyright in the credits is 2007. Live At The Olympic was released in January. 2010. Math ain’t never been my A subject, but it appears this thing is 5-years-old, and that’s plenty of time to tack on a few legitimate extras. Makes you question the fate of the the new Suicidal record, which Muir, in 2008, told “Mosh” would be out by early ‘09.

MOSH-WORTHY: Fear Factory Mechanize (Candlelight); Ruins Front The Final Foes (Debemur Morti); Barren Earth Curse Of The Red River (Peaceville); Hiems Worship Or Die (Moribund); Thorlock Crumbling Fortress EP (Godcantsave.us).

MOSH-WORTHY . . . LIVE: Mat Arluck Memorial show/Beat Kitchen/ February 4th; D.R.I., The Muzzler, and Chicago Thrash Ensemble/Reggie’s/6th; Beatallica and Cealed Kasket/Abbey Pub/12th; Raise The Red Lantern /Bottom Lounge/19th; Paul Di’Anno/ Icarus Witch/Bible Of The Devil/ Reggie’s/25th.

– Trevor Fisher

There was a time when Grammy-winning, blues harp master Sugar Blue believed there were only certain types of music appropriate for a blues musician to play. He came up listening to and being molded by icons like Memphis Slim, Muddy Waters, Willie Dixon, and Junior Wells. By the time he was in his late 20s, he had played with all these legends. The only kind of music he ever heard them play was straight-up blues. So that’s all Blue really played. That is, until the release of his latest CD, Threshold (Beeble), which aptly represents his pushing through a musical break point.

“There was a time when I said, ‘I can’t play this kind of music, I’m a blues man!’” he says. “I sort of pigeonholed myself. I grew up in the old school. I was always a rock fan and a Motown fan. I’d listen to Smokey Robinson and say, ‘I can’t do that kind of stuff.’ I was scared to venture out. The paintbrush hit me all over but when it came time to get to the canvas, it was only one hue, and that’s blue.” Even though he’s appeared on classic Rolling Stones’ albums Emotional Rescue and Tattoo You and played with jazz veteran Stan Getz, it never occurred to him to blend other genres into his blues. After decades of pumping out classic blues, Blue finally realized something. “Blues is the root and all the rest are the fruit, as Willie Dixon said so well. This is the time I decided to deal with the fruits,” he declares. “I’ve come to a place where I’ll dare to do anything.”

That includes tackling love songs and elements of funk, rock, and jazz. Threshold is Blue’s fifth release and stands as his most adventurous. The 11-track album features nine songs co-written by Blue and delivers a melodic demonstration of the various paths of the blues tradition. Backed by a tight band including noted guitarist Rico McFarland, Blue delivers a harp tour de force.

Opening with an uptempo tune with pop accents, “Living Your Love” sets the tone for the CD’s adventurous focus. There’s hot New Orleans funk on “Noel News,” smooth jazz guitar licks on the James Cotton tribute “Cotton Tree,” and a simmering ballad on “Tonight.” But the highlight is the biting ant-war commentary “Stop The War.” Opening with birds chirping and bombs exploding amid blistering guitar rhythms, the tune skillfully blends news commentary, Blue’s sharp harp notes, and blistering, gospel-tinged backup vocals urging, “Stop the war/kill no more.”

The anger floats through the lyrics and it’s clear Blue wrote the song from personal experience. “I lost a lot of friends in the Viet Nam War,” he says. “In this current war, I was playing at Rosa’s and this young soldier, all of 18-years old, came in. He had just graduated and was pumped up about going to war. I could see beyond the bravado and I saw the fear in his eyes. His girlfriend came up to me and said, ‘They’re going to kill him, they’re going to send home pieces of him,’ and she started to cry. That really affected me. I thought, ‘We have to work out a way to to solve our problems and not butcher each other.’”

Threshold showcases Blue’s experimentation with progressive blues and its variations, but it also serves up hard driving, straight-ahead blues. “Ramblin,” an old-fashioned instrumental, sizzles with an innovative harmonica duel between Blue and himself. The reverent Junior Wells cover “Messin’ With The Kid,” rollicks with the required amount of bravado.

Growing up with a mother who sang and danced at the legendary Apollo Theater and being surrounded by luminaries like Billie Holiday and Muddy Waters, Blue absorbed the necessary elements of becoming an accomplished musician at a young age. He devoted years to studying and playing with harp masters Big Walter Horton, Cotton, Carey Bell, and Wells. He is now generally considered one of the most accomplished blues harpists in the world, boasting fluidity, clarity of tone, and speed unlike any other. When asked about the difference between the old-school bluesman he worked with and new-millennium performers, he insists there’s not much difference.

“The new millennium bluesman is very much like the old bluesman,” he says. “Basically, you’re talking about what you feel and what’s going on around you. A bluesman is a descendent of the African griot. He has to take what’s important and what’s affecting us today and connect it to the future. Willie Dixon said that the most important part of a bluesman is the man. You can’t understand the blues until you’re a man. To be a blues man is to be a philosopher. You can’t understand life until you’ve lived life. There’s more to this music than the notes. It encompasses our humanity. That’s why the blues has been able to produce so many disparate forms, from Charlie Parker to The Wailers. There’s really nothing you can do that’s new. You can only try to make your own kind of strew. The ingredients are the same, it just depends on the cook.”

– Rosalind Cummings-Yeates

Late last year I got fed up with mechanics and bought my first-ever new car. It came with satellite radio, and in no time I was hooked — even though it didn’t get Howard Stern.

I loved Rosie O’Donnell’s radio show and Little Steven’s “Underground Garage” and the Hindi music station, which plays ghazals, bhajans, and qawwali.

I fell in love before I knew what I was getting into.

The nation’s two satellite radio companies, Sirius and XM, merged in July 2008 — dumping many favorite channels and shows in the process.

The company, now called Sirius XM, sells prepaid subscription cards, so I asked for one for Christmas.

My brother got me a $55 Sirius card at Best Buy, and I called right away to activate it.

After a long time on hold, I was asked what kind of car I drive. I said Hyundai and the line went dead.

I called back and finally a different person picked up. They informed me that they could not activate my account because my car has an XM receiver, and suggested I call XM. “But aren’t you the same company?” I asked. Apparently not.

After eons on hold, someone at XM picked up and told me the card would not work with my radio. Even though the two companies had merged, their billing cycles were still separate. “After a year and a half?” I asked, incredulous. The person on the other line told me that my only recourse was to go to the retailer and make an exchange. (Sirius XM’s press agent did not respond to requests for a comment for this story.)

Not only was Best Buy out of XM cards, but they wouldn’t take back the Sirius card — even with a receipt. “It says on the back of the receipt that we don’t accept return on prepaid cards,” the supervisor told me. I tried to argue: “But both Sirius and XM told me to exchange it here,” and “No one warned us ahead of time that it couldn’t be returned.” She wouldn’t budge.

I finally ended up re-gifting the card to a friend, who has Sirius in her car.

There is a contraption that gets both services: The Sirius XM MiRGE, a dual-band interoperable receiver that costs $249.99 and allows you to get the Sirius XM all-in-one package for $19.99 per month. Existing subscribers to either XM or Sirius need to activate new accounts for the MiRGE, which is then billed separately.

It’s all so convoluted that late last year a Florida subscriber filed a lawsuit against Sirius XM Radio Inc., alleging last year’s merger created a monopoly that raised prices “above competitive levels.”

The lawsuit, which is seeking class-action status, alleges Sirius XM has raised prices without improving consumer program choices, despite committing to the Federal Communications Commission that it would not raise prices of its basic package for three years after the merger was approved.

Nonetheless it has raised fees that are not part of the order, including fees for multi-radio subscribers. Such fees have increased by 40 percent since the two companies merged.

That lawsuit is not to be confused with the 2008 suit filed by 500 Sirius shareholders in 2008, alleging that Sirius XM Satellite Radio sabotaged stock values and violated the Racketeer Influenced And Corrupt Organizations (RICO) Act by eroding the value of the company in order to take it private at a discount.

None of which will matter in a few years, when autos are installed with streaming Internet radio, and satellite radio goes the way of the eight-track tape.

ODDS ‘N’ SODS: At press time, Chicago Independent Radio Project (CHIRP) was poised to launch its new online radio station at Chirpradio.org. Two-and-a-half years in the making, the focus will be on “radio that is diverse, exciting, live, and locally based.” The group is also working to change the law so it can launch a low-power FM version. Visit the Web site for the latest . . . Remember WMET anyone? WBMX? WVVX? Radio’s golden age (i.e., prior to the Telecom Act Of 1996) comes alive at the new Chicagoland Radio And Media Web site, where the many features include Memory Lane, which features images of favorite old logos, music surveys, photos of personalities, bumper stickers, and “Where are they now?” and “In Memorium” pages. The site-in-progress also features media news, live feeds for media blogs, columns, ratings links, and more. See for yourself at www.chicagolandradioandmedia.com . . . The roundups of the biggest media stories of the decade seem to have missed the most recent and humiliating debacle of the past 10 years: how the local media completely and utterly misread the city’s bid for the 2016 Olympic games. Or maybe they didn’t misread it, but rather called it as da Mare saw it. Same result — although somehow the rest of the world knew Chicago didn’t stand a chance.

OOPS: Last month we referred to Chicago Reader muckraker and editor Mick Dumke as Mike. Sorry, Mike, er, Mick!

– Cara Jepsen

Hey, look! The column’s called something different now. Why? Well, we decided it was time to begin a serious relationship with the 21st century, thanks for asking.

Seems the kids are all up in the air about this whole Blu-Ray thing, and who are we to ignore the will of the people? So reviews of Blu-Ray discs and their myriad additional features, as well as standard DVD write-ups, will be on the menu.

Plus, we’ll keep an open mind about other forms of digital delivery aside from the current norms. After all, you never know when the next big thing will come along and make you buy Blade Runner all over again. Truth be told, we still have our fingers crossed for direct input into the cerebral cortex, but that could just be us.

Whip It
Fox Home Entertainment

Hollywood has never been shy about pumping out films where a spunky underdog, unsatisfied with their homelife and surroundings, strike-out to make it in the sports world. You may have even seen one or two of them, and if so, you’ve seen Whip It.

Yet just because a film’s been made a hundred times before doesn’t mean it’s not worthwhile. Any film with a good story, good acting, and good direction will always be worthy.

In her first lead role since Juno, Ellen Page plays Bliss, a Texas beauty-pageant regular who ditches it all when she becomes enamored with the local roller-derby team. Of course her mother, a former pageant queen herself, doesn’t approve, but in films like this “no” is not an option.

Whip It provides strong performances by everyone involved, especially Kristen Wiig (“Saturday Night Live”) as the roller girl who takes Bliss under her wing while trying to balance her derby world and single-mother duties, and Alia Shawkat (“Arrested Development”) as Bliss’ best friend.

Drew Barrymore scores in her directoral debut by avoiding the trap many actors-turned-directors fall into. Instead of trying to show off with flashy camera moves and “Hey look, I’m directing!” shots, Barrymore relies on the talents she has on hand to do the heavy lifting for her.

The Blu-Ray set includes an alternate opening scene, eight deleted scenes, as well as a draft from writer Shauna Cross and a digital copy not included on the standard DVD release.

Film: *** Features: ***

The Invention Of Lying
Warner Bros.

Ricky Gervais is brilliant. Let’s get that out of the way. As the creator of “The Office” and HBO’s “Extras,” there aren’t many working today with a keener comic mind.

Perhaps it’s because of his proven track record that The Invention Of Lying is such a disappointment.

Set in a world where people have never developed the ability to lie, Gervais finds himself as the only one who can. Of course, he uses this ability to score women, money, and fame.

The problem with Lying, however, is it’s a one-joke idea that’s dragged out over a two-hour film. It’s a good joke, but not enough to sustain a feature. In fact, all the good ideas get beaten around for too long. The thread in which Gervais creates religion through his lies works the first time, but the film takes it and runs with it, making it the main theme. By the time you get pounded over the head with the sight gag of Gervais as Christ, even militant atheists will roll their eyes and say, “O.K., I get it already!”

The cast is serviceable, but no one really seems to be working above the material. Rob Lowe, as Gervais’ scheming co-worker, scores a couple of laughs, but Jennifer Garner as the love interest just makes you wish she’d go away.

Co-directed by Gervais and Matthew Robinson, the Blu-Ray set contains extra scenes, a gag reel, podcasts from Gervais and Robinson, as well as a surprisingly funny little film about the first lie created by cavemen, also starring Gervais and Lowe.

Film: *1/2 Features: **1/2

– Timothy Hiatt

It’s really profitable, so Gibson continues to add to its limited-edition guitar roster with the acoustic Keb’ Mo’ Blues Master model, honoring the multiple Grammy winner. Taking its cues from vintage Gibsons from the 1920s and ’30s, the guitar is a flat-top acoustic made in the tradition of the sought-after, small-bodied Gibson blues boxes from the pre-war era, yet it adds the modern touch of a built-in L.R. Baggs Element pick up with soundhole-mounted volume control. Gibson’s L Series acoustic guitars were there at the very birth of blues played by Robert Johnson, among other bluesmen of that era. The Keb’ Mo’ model offers the vintage tone you’d expect in a high-end, handcrafted acoustic guitar. Throwback specs include a 12th-fret neck/body joint that positions the bridge right in the body’s sweet spot for optimal resonance. Finishes include Antique Natural or Vintage Sunburst with double antiquing. The guitar has a cream top, back, and fingerboard binding, herringbone trim, mother-of-pearl inlays, and double-ring soundhole. Gibson includes a hardshell case, a signed interior label by Keb’ Mo’ himself, an owner’s manual, and Gibson Acoustic’s Gold Warranty. This Blues Master model is available in a low-scale production of only 300. Officially, the tag is $3,868. However, we’ve seen street prices in the mere $3,000 range.

Warwick
Adam Clayton Reverso Bass

Most guitar manufacturers go looking for rock stars to endorse and put their names on guitars and basses. The fact that Adam Clayton of U2 sought out Warwick two years ago to put his name on its bass says alot about the 30-year-old manufacturer. Brimming with pride, a recent press release boasted “an intensive collaboration with the Warwick team under the guidance of Marcus Spangler created an unmatched bass that shines with its own voice and design.” Like the owners of Jurrasic Park, Warwick and Clayton spared no expense building his new bass. It not only stands out because of its exotic design, which includes a 5A quilted maple top for the body and headstock, a Khaya mahogany body, 3A flamed maple neck and a tiger-stripe ebony fingerboard. An active MEC P split-coil pickup and a new passive MEC pick-up co-developed with Clayton will allow a separate reduction of high and low frequencies, and produce a tone he prefers to mix the older and newer sounds of U2 on stage. The Clayton Reverso Bass also includes red LEDs on the fingerboard’s edge providing the best orientation on dark stages. Warwick states it’s an “all-around professional bass for one of the most demanding bassists in the world.” A price was not available at press time, but you can expect it will be priced on the high-end. See Warwick.com for details.

Shure Fights For Wireless Bandwith.

It’s interesting to watch the heavyweights of the musical manufacturing business battle against the 800-pound gorillas of the communication business and the Federal Communications Commission. Shure microphones’ Sandy LaMantia is fighting against Verizon and AT&T for white space (VHF Channels 2-13) that was recently abandoned by analog TV stations during the digital TV switchover. Shure is teaming up with Representative Bobby Rush (D-IL) on a proposal to protect 13 different classes of microphone users from interference that could result from the operation of new wireless phones and other devices that the FCC has approved for frequencies currently occupied by wireless microphone users.

At presstime, the FCC has already told wireless mic manufacturers to abandon the 700 Mhz wireless spectrum, but the battle will continue for other frequencies in coming months.

– David Gedge