World of Warlocks

This Ain't Grateful Dead or The Velvet Underground 

IE Weekly

The Warlocks, a band unto itself, brings a different brand of psychedelia to the annual Clean Air, Clear Stars fest

By: Arrissia Owen

 

Growing up with a grandfather who owned a radio station and a mother who helped run the place, Bobby Hecksher couldn’t help but soak up the sounds of classic rock bands like The Beatles and The Rolling Stones. Surrounded by little else than alligator marshland, it was a welcome distraction for the Florida youngster.

But it was when Hecksher—who would go on to become frontman for psychedelic rockers The Warlocks—discovered punk rock, that his musical maelstrom began to evolve. He tumbled toward bands like the Butthole Surfers, the Minutemen, The Flaming Lips and Sonic Youth during middle school. Things started to click.

“When I heard those bands, I felt like I finally woke up,” says Hecksher, whose The Warlocks perform at the fifth annual Clean Air, Clear Stars Global Cooling Festival Sept. 23 to 24 at Pappy & Harriett’s near Joshua Tree. “I was gravitating toward that sort of music that had more song structure and was leading toward the psychedelic sound. It was raw and cool.”

Fortuitously, Hecksher’s parents packed up and moved to L.A. by his teen years. It was the 1990s and grunge was de rigueur, but he continually found himself drawn to the more experimental side of West Los Angeles’ music scene. One of his earliest gigs was as bassist on Beck’s Stereopathetic Soulmanure in 1994. That led to his time with performance art-rock ensemble Don Knotts Overdrive before joining the Brian Jonestown Massacre, adding guitar and bass on 2001’s Bravery, Repetition and Noise.

Brian Jonestown Massacre’s singer Anton Newcombe was instrumental in Hecksher’s transition to frontman status. “He was a bit of a maniac,” Hecksher says, reaffirming an already raucous reputation. “But when you got down deep and hung out with him, you realized he was really talented and very encouraging.”

It was Newcombe who helped instill in Hecksher the confidence to do his own thing, which inevitably led to his departure from the band for his own gig. “He was very different from a lot of the people I played with,” Hecksher says. Leaving was bittersweet.

“I had always considered myself a bass player up to then. From there I started writing and The Warlocks started from that.”

Hecksher was blissfully unaware of the little known pedigree that went with his new band’s name. “People think I had this huge thing about it, like I knew it was part of the Grateful Dead and The Velvet Underground’s past,” he says. “But back then, I really didn’t know that these other bands had been called The Warlocks briefly before.” 

The name just sounded cool, he says. It had teeth and grit. “I always liked the way it sounded and the imagery fit what we were doing—it’s gloomy, dark and psychedelic,” Hecksher says.

The Warlocks are five albums deep into a career that has weathered various band members and three labels. The current lineup—Hecksher, guitarists JC Reese and Earl Miller, bassist Chris DiPino and drummer George Serrano—is on San Diego-based label Cargo Records. Its most recent release, 2010’s Rise and Fall: EP and Rarities, is a collection showcasing the band’s decade-strong feedback-fueled noise rock.

The label, which boasts a large roster that includes Brian Jonestown Massacre, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart and more, has a huge presence overseas, building on The Warlocks’ European fan base cemented during its time on Mute Records.

“We’re like The Beatles in France,” Hecksher jokes, as befuddled as anyone. “I asked some French fans to explain it to me once, and they just kind of said that it’s the way the words translate to them.” 

The Warlocks perform with Adam Franklin and Bolts of Melody, the Black Ryder, Icarus Line and more at Pappy and Harriett’s Pioneertown Palace, 53688 Pioneertown Road, Pioneertown, (760) 365-5956; www.cleanairclearstars.com. $20-$30.

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Stephen Tobolowsky's got character

Groundhogged for life

 Big Bear Grizzly

Actor Stephen Tobolowsky will be honored for lifetime achievement at local film fest

September 14, 2011 5:00 am

By ARRISSIA OWEN Reporter

The monsters swayed Stephen Tobolowsky. As a little boy, he dreamed of becoming a professional actor so he could meet Frankenstein, Godzilla and the Wolfman.

“I thought Godzilla would be able to show me how to breathe fire,” says Tobolowsky, now a seasoned character actor with more than 150 films, a Tony award and numerous TV spots to his credit.

As he grew older, Tobolowsky kept the dream alive with a twist. “I thought actors sailed ships across the ocean, got to fight wars,” he says with a slight chuckle. “But, actors have no adventures. We sit in trailers, play Tetris, have lots of down time. The stuntmen see all the action.”

"Deadwood"

Tobolowsky does have plenty of life experience, culminating in 2005’s “Stephen Tobolowsky’s Birthday Party,” a film that shows him recollecting real life while preparing for his own birthday party. The idea since sparked a podcast series and an upcoming book published by Simon & Schuster.

On Sept. 16, the man you may or may not recognize from his character actor CV receives the lifetime achievement award for acting at the Big Bear Lake International Film Festival’s opening night gala.
Tobolowsky has a knack for bringing eccentric everymen to life on the screen—he was Ned Ryerson, Bill Murray’s former classmate turned insurance salesman in “Groundhog Day” and Sammy Jankis in “Memento.” Depending on your demographic, you may know him from recurring roles on “Deadwood,” “Californication,” “Heroes” or “Glee.”

“People often recognize me, but they don’t know who I am,” Tobolowsky says, taking his low-key fame in stride. “Or they think I used to work with their dad.”

As Ned Ryerson

The balding, bespectacled 60-year-old didn’t set out to become a character actor. The designation is assigned at moments that hardly appeal to one’s vanity. For Tobolowsky, it was after finishing a production of Tom Stoppard’s “Jumpers” in 1975.

Tobolowsky was playing an 85-year-old man. His hair, sprayed with streaks of gray, fell out in clumps upon a strenuous wash. “From then on, the romantic lead was pretty much out of the question,” he says.

Determined to stick with his art, Tobolowsky found his niche, taking to small roles and making them memorable. “As a character actor, you often play parts that don’t even have names,” he says. “But at the same time, you need to make them complete.” There is a backstory to every one, he says.
Developing stories comes naturally for Tobolowsky—he won a storytelling contest as a sixth-grader and held a reputation as a “fabulous” liar as a child—which lent itself to the evolution of “Birthday Party.”

Romantic lead days

The film opened to rave reviews at the HBO Comedy Festival in Aspen, South by Southwest and more. That led to a regular series of syndicated podcasts through slashfilm.com, “The Tobolowsky Files.”

Truth is often as entertaining as fiction, Tobolowsky has learned, and you don’t need creative editing for a clever ending, just time. Tobolowsky thought the one about the day he found out he was going to be a father was finished for years.

On location, alone, with no one to share the experience other than the hotel maid and bartender, Tobolowsky ran into an acquaintance, a stuntman, at the hotel restaurant. Over eggs, he shared the exciting news. The man said, “Well, things will never be the same for you ever again.”
Fourteen years later, Tobolowsky and his wife were at a sushi restaurant 2,000 miles away from that hotel when he felt a tap on his shoulder. It was the stuntman, teary eyed.

“I’ve been looking for someone to tell,” the man said to Tobolowsky. “My child just died, my firstborn. I knew I could tell you, because you would understand.”

The truth is as powerful as fiction, Tobolowsky says. “Sometimes it just takes longer to reveal itself fully.” It could even take a lifetime.

Contact reporter Arrissia Owen at 909-866-3456, ext. 142 or by email at aowen.grizzly@gmail.com.

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