By Arrissia Owen
OC Weekly
Thurs., Aug. 8, 2013
 |
| Sebadoh! |
The Sebadoh reunion tour has soldiered on at a snail's pace for nearly a decade, so, fittingly, the band churned out fresh material nearly 14 years after their last release. "The next step is to play new songs to keep it interesting for us," lead singer Lou Barlow says humbly. "And it's a nice gesture for people who care about the band."
Getting back into his Sebadoh headspace is no challenge for Barlow. It takes 30 minutes, tops, he says, despite the long spurts of time he goes without playing with his band mates. Sebadoh have toured sans new material since 2004, staying "semi-active," as Barlow calls it, by playing a few shows yearly for devoted fans.
Joining Barlow (moonlighting bassist for Dinosaur Jr.) are Jason Loewenstein and drummer Bob D'Amico, a recent addition. (The latter two do double duty as backing band for Brooklyn sibling duo the Fiery Furnaces.) Sebadoh went on hiatus in 2001 as its members concentrated on various side projects. For instance, Barlow was half of "Natural One" duo the Folk Implosion, which saw chart success thanks to the soundtrack for the 1995 film Kids and remained together until 2004. A founding member of Dinosaur Jr., Barlow was kicked out in 1989 (see 1991's "The Freed Pig" on Sebadoh III), but he rejoined J. Mascis in 2005 when the band reunited.
The last batch of Sebadoh music was 1999's The Sebadoh, much to the dismay of the influential indie rock band's fervent fans. But all that changed last year when Sebadoh quietly released Secret EP on their Bandcamp. Inching toward the release of a full-length from the same sessions, Defend Yourself, out on Joyful Noise Sept. 17, Sebadoh stop by the Constellation Room in Santa Ana on Sunday.
For Defend Yourself, there was no label support, no big-reunion-album pressure from A&R guys, just a casual vibe between three old friends with the know-how to write and record beautiful music together at Barlow's LA home. Fans can expect the classic Sebadoh sound, the ongoing conversation between Barlow and band referencing everything from early hardcore punk to Captain Beefheart and the Cocteau Twins--even a little country.
"We finished the record on our own before we even introduced it to other people," Barlow says. "It was sort of like, 'Here it is. Take it or leave it.'" The album's artwork arrived at the label on a sketchpad via FedEx.
Barlow and Loewenstein finished their vocals individually at home. Barlow's lyrical inspiration came from his recent split from his wife of 25 years, which parallels his time with Sebadoh. And while the words are biographical, he keeps things vague enough to shelter his private life. "It's definitely referring to something very specific for me, but the words are very general," Barlow says when asked if he's comfortable baring his soul. "I don't know why anyone thinks it's extraordinary, especially how indie rock has been evolving since the 1990s--bands such as Bright Eyes really bring you into the really uncomfortable details and make you sweat it out with them."
For the first time in 14 years, the band are playing songs unfamiliar to fans. "The way I was introduced to music--like, if I were seeing Hüsker Dü in the '80s, they always played whatever their next record was," Barlow says. "You showed up and were like, 'I hope they play this and that,' but they never did. It was kind of a thing bands did back then, before you would even call it indie rock. It was like they owed it to their fans to play the next step."
But Barlow and company are happy to relive their glory days, as well as offer some nibbles of the new stuff. They're always up for a gracious gesture.
Sebadoh perform at the Constellation Room at the Observatory, 3503 S. Harbor Blvd., Santa Ana, (714) 957-0600; www.constellationroom.com. Sun., 8 p.m. $12. For more information on Sebadoh, visit www.sebadoh.com.
Follow us on Twitter @OCWeeklyMusic and like us on Facebook at Heard Mentality
For the original story, click here: http://blogs.ocweekly.com/heardmentality/2013/08/sebadoh_reunion_tour.php
*******************************************************************
*******************************************************************
Enjoy Every Sandwich
By Arrissia Owen
IE Weekly
April 5, 2012
The Soft Pack lives by the words of the late Warren Zevon
“This one’s for Warren Zevon,” singer Matt Lamkin shouted to millions of TV viewers just before his band The Soft Pack launched into a rousing rendition of its single “Answer to Yourself.” That was February 2010, and Lamkin and company were in New York promoting the self-titled LP on Late Show with David Letterman.
The LA-based band has been on tour ever since, promoting the tracks while writing and recording songs for its upcoming fall release. The unexpected shout out sent a jolt through Letterman’s staff, guitarist Matty McLoughlin fondly recalls.
Zevon was a frequent guest and friend of Letterman who choked up the host on air in 2003 during his lastLate Show appearance months before he succumbed to lung cancer. The Matts, who are huge Zevon fans along with drummer Brian Hill and bassist David Lantzman, spent time chatting with staff afterward, getting earfuls of anecdotes about the sardonic songwriter.
That performance was one of many highlights for the band during the last two years. Letterman is up there with 2010 slots at Coachella and South by Southwest, “Answer to Yourself” fueling beer commercial bravado and opening for bands like the Breeders and Franz Ferdinand.
These days The Soft Pack heads through the IE on Wednesday, April 11, opening for Arctic Monkeys at The Glass House in Pomona, followed by the Moon Block Party Thursday, April 12, with Dengue Fever at Dillion’s Roadhouse in Palm Springs.
While the band shared stages with heavy hitters, The Soft Pack boasts its own dedicated followers. Its fans freak for the deadpan deliverance of jangly pop reminiscent of post-punk forefathers the Modern Lovers and Manchester band The Fall.
The Soft Pack formed in San Diego in 2007 after McLoughlin returned from Virginia after college. McLoughlin and Lamkin, who was still in high school, hung out and wrote songs while geeking out over their shared love for the aforementioned bands, as well as Hot Snakes, The Velvet Underground, Iggy Pop, The Kinks, R.E.M. and, for variety, Steely Dan.
“We wanted to do repetition and simplicity,” McLoughlin says, with a nod to Mark E. Smith’s musical philosophy, The Fall’s cultish frontman. “Everything else was just up in the air.” The result is Lamkin’s lyrics that dryly dismiss any sort of hype, adoration or ambition over grinding guitars, a stomping backbeat and funky bass lines that maintain that sought-after straightforwardness.
By 2008, The Soft Pack, then known by its much-maligned name The Muslims, relocated to Los Angeles. The moniker attracted negative press, even some racist rants. The music itself was getting rave reviews though, so the group ditched the diversion.
To give fans and the press something else to talk about, the band members set aside their apathy for ambition and tore through 10 shows in 13 hours throughout the Los Angeles area.
“It was cool, but really exhausting,” McLoughlin says about the marathon musical tour that the L.A. Timeshopped on the bus for. “I think we will be doing something less exhausting this time.” The band has spring and summer to figure out its next move.
The upcoming release is more diverse, McLoughlin says, with more instrumentation added. Fans can also anticipate some robust beats thanks to Lamkin’s affinity for Funkadelic, Sun Ra and Sly and the Family Stone. “Sonically, there is more soul. It’s bare bones, but it’s still rock music, pop songs. It sounds bigger.”
The recordings are under wraps, but fans can catch sneak peeks as the band continues to tour, something they’ve taken little time off from. But don’t expect any road warrior ramblings to creep into their repertoire.
“When people start writing about the road, that starts sounding very Bon Jovi, and that’s boring,” McLoughlin says with a laugh, preferring Zevon’s take on the whole Wanted-Dead-or-Alive thing. “That’s dumb. Who wants to write about sitting in a van?” The boys are more excitable than that.
The Soft Pack w/Arctic Monkeys at The Glass House, 200 W. 2nd St., Pomona, (909) 865-3802;www.glasshouse.us. Wed, April 11. 7pm. $35.
For the original story, click here: http://ieweekly.com/2012/04/music-2/music/the-soft-pack/
By Arrissia Owen
IE Weekly
April 5, 2012
The Soft Pack lives by the words of the late Warren Zevon
“This one’s for Warren Zevon,” singer Matt Lamkin shouted to millions of TV viewers just before his band The Soft Pack launched into a rousing rendition of its single “Answer to Yourself.” That was February 2010, and Lamkin and company were in New York promoting the self-titled LP on Late Show with David Letterman.
The LA-based band has been on tour ever since, promoting the tracks while writing and recording songs for its upcoming fall release. The unexpected shout out sent a jolt through Letterman’s staff, guitarist Matty McLoughlin fondly recalls.
Zevon was a frequent guest and friend of Letterman who choked up the host on air in 2003 during his lastLate Show appearance months before he succumbed to lung cancer. The Matts, who are huge Zevon fans along with drummer Brian Hill and bassist David Lantzman, spent time chatting with staff afterward, getting earfuls of anecdotes about the sardonic songwriter.
That performance was one of many highlights for the band during the last two years. Letterman is up there with 2010 slots at Coachella and South by Southwest, “Answer to Yourself” fueling beer commercial bravado and opening for bands like the Breeders and Franz Ferdinand.
These days The Soft Pack heads through the IE on Wednesday, April 11, opening for Arctic Monkeys at The Glass House in Pomona, followed by the Moon Block Party Thursday, April 12, with Dengue Fever at Dillion’s Roadhouse in Palm Springs.
While the band shared stages with heavy hitters, The Soft Pack boasts its own dedicated followers. Its fans freak for the deadpan deliverance of jangly pop reminiscent of post-punk forefathers the Modern Lovers and Manchester band The Fall.
The Soft Pack formed in San Diego in 2007 after McLoughlin returned from Virginia after college. McLoughlin and Lamkin, who was still in high school, hung out and wrote songs while geeking out over their shared love for the aforementioned bands, as well as Hot Snakes, The Velvet Underground, Iggy Pop, The Kinks, R.E.M. and, for variety, Steely Dan.
“We wanted to do repetition and simplicity,” McLoughlin says, with a nod to Mark E. Smith’s musical philosophy, The Fall’s cultish frontman. “Everything else was just up in the air.” The result is Lamkin’s lyrics that dryly dismiss any sort of hype, adoration or ambition over grinding guitars, a stomping backbeat and funky bass lines that maintain that sought-after straightforwardness.
By 2008, The Soft Pack, then known by its much-maligned name The Muslims, relocated to Los Angeles. The moniker attracted negative press, even some racist rants. The music itself was getting rave reviews though, so the group ditched the diversion.
To give fans and the press something else to talk about, the band members set aside their apathy for ambition and tore through 10 shows in 13 hours throughout the Los Angeles area.
“It was cool, but really exhausting,” McLoughlin says about the marathon musical tour that the L.A. Timeshopped on the bus for. “I think we will be doing something less exhausting this time.” The band has spring and summer to figure out its next move.
The upcoming release is more diverse, McLoughlin says, with more instrumentation added. Fans can also anticipate some robust beats thanks to Lamkin’s affinity for Funkadelic, Sun Ra and Sly and the Family Stone. “Sonically, there is more soul. It’s bare bones, but it’s still rock music, pop songs. It sounds bigger.”
The recordings are under wraps, but fans can catch sneak peeks as the band continues to tour, something they’ve taken little time off from. But don’t expect any road warrior ramblings to creep into their repertoire.
“When people start writing about the road, that starts sounding very Bon Jovi, and that’s boring,” McLoughlin says with a laugh, preferring Zevon’s take on the whole Wanted-Dead-or-Alive thing. “That’s dumb. Who wants to write about sitting in a van?” The boys are more excitable than that.
The Soft Pack w/Arctic Monkeys at The Glass House, 200 W. 2nd St., Pomona, (909) 865-3802;www.glasshouse.us. Wed, April 11. 7pm. $35.
For the original story, click here: http://ieweekly.com/2012/04/music-2/music/the-soft-pack/
********************************************
Cheeky and Transformed
By Arrissia Owen
IE Weekly
June 20, 2013
Father John Misty is ready to testify. The singer-songwriter, whose Christian name is Joshua Tillman, packed up his van in 2011, stocked up on psychedelic fungi and left behind his adopted home Seattle for some self-discovery.
With no destination planned, Tillman inadvertently steered the wheel to his new Babylon, a.k.a. Los Angeles, specifically Laurel Canyon, where he settled down in a spider-infested cottage. Not long after, he resigned his post as drummer for the wildly popular indie rock band Fleet Foxes.
What Tillman found on his path of literal self-destruction, as cheesy as it sounds, was Josh Tillman. So fittingly, he renamed himself an entirely nonsensical nom de guerre to celebrate the end of taking himself so seriously, introducing the world instead to his true narrative voice in the form of Father John Misty.
The result of the musical transformation, the album Fear Fun on Subpop Records, is a revelation, a hedonistic offering reminiscent of Harry Nilsson, Waylon Jennings and Gram Parsons with the quirkiness of Warren Zevon. On the album’s opening track, “Funtimes in Babylon,” Tillman declares “Look out Hollywood here I come.” On Saturday, June 22, Father John Misty is headed to The Glass House.
But you can just call him Nancy, if you’re into that kind of thing—and after watching the S&M-style video for the Father John Misty song “Nancy From Now On,” you just might be. YouTube it and feel the risk-taking contagion. Other fun to fear includes the sacrilegious sex immortalized by Parks and Recreation’s Aubrey Plaza in the gripping video for “Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings.”
Tillman’s come a long way in search of Father John Misty. Prior to joining Fleet Foxes, he released eight albums as an austere solo artist under the moniker J. Tillman, in the key of Damien Jurado and Will Oldham.
“In my twenties I think I had a lot of self-loathing about the things I was actually good at,” Tillman says. “I wanted to be good at being, like, a drunk old wizard that makes this moody, celestial music about wisdom and death. I wanted to prove to everyone how serious I was.”
Strangely, the seeds of discontent that spurred his creative transformation took root during a time in his life when he should have been ecstatic—on tour with Fleet Foxes. “I just really went on a warpath to try and discontinue all this dissidence in my life,” Tillman says.
Tillman mentally checked out from the fleet while continuing to fulfill his contractual obligations, freeing him to start conceptualizing the other Josh Tillman music. To his surprise, it was much more mirthful than J. Tillman ever let on.
Name checking Neil Young and existential philosophers Martin Heidegger and Jean-Paul Sartre in “I’m Writing a Novel,” Tillman sings about his a-ha moment: “I ran down the road, pants down to my knees / Screaming ‘Please come help me, that Canadian shaman gave a little too much to me!’ / And I’m writing a novel because it’s never been done before.” Even in times of crisis, Tillman pokes fun at himself and any moments of grandeur he may let slip into his consciousness.
That clarity helped Tillman put all the self-imposed mindfucks that manifested while on tour with Fleet Foxes into perspective, which he affectionately recalls as “a nerve-filled toothache.” He was effectively calling himself out on his own BS.
But much to Tillman’s relief, once he owned up to not wanting to be the drummer with no creative input for a fantastically successful band, things got less
excruciating. The acceptance freed him up to think more candidly about his muses, he says, and to hit the road without a plan.
The result was a happier, much cheekier Josh Tillman than the one who nursed his wounds for a decade, working out his issues with his parents and their God. Yet the Josh Tillman who emerged is the same that his friends knew all along—the first on the dance floor, the first to make a joke at his own expense with a deadpan delivery.
“It’s been kind of like a Jungian return to the fascination of the child,” Tillman says. “That’s where the humor, the dancing and the liberty, and all that kind of stems from. It’s kind of a reclamation of my pre-20s state.”
Now in his early 30s, Tillman is more comfortable in his checkered skin. “It can be a tricky thing to talk about,” he admits. “It can sound so banal, like ‘I just learned to be myself,’ but it is just as simple as that.” Look out world.
Father John Misty performs with White Fence at The Glass House, 248 W. Second St., Pomona, 909-865-3802; www.theglasshouse.us. Sat, June 22. 7PM. $20. All ages.
For the original story, click here: http://ieweekly.com/2013/06/music-2/music/cheeky-and-transformed/
**************************************
Dang, Young Whippersnappers
 |
| Smith Westerns |
Invading the blogosphere, the indie scene and Europe just isn’t enough for the Smith Westerns
By: Arrissia Owen
It’s not easy being an American rock star. As soon as you drop your sophomore release and critics slobber all over it, you’re opening for bands like Wilco, MGMT and Belle & Sebastian making the buzz hum louder.
Then it’s time for the anticipated European release of the songs you’ve been playing nonstop since the day they dropped. Europe gives its approval, and you’re looking into a loaded tour schedule and already feeling the pressure of what’s next.
“The music is all we think about,” says Smith Westerns frontman Cullen Omori about the Chicago band’s recent rise in the music world and the impending pressure. The release of the band’s Fat Possum debut, Dye It Blonde, in January set the ball in motion after a few years of Internet hype spawned from some initial tracks uploaded to MySpace.
“I am fine with that,” Omori says about heightened expectations, verbally shrugging it off. “It’s not pressure. It’s what I would do anyway. I can’t imagine what I would do if I wasn’t doing this.”
On the heels of Dye It Blonde’s early success, the quartet——made up of Omori’s brother Cameron on bass, Max Kakacek on lead guitar and a drummer from their rotating cast——is feeling antsy to do more, but is trying to slow down and take everything in.
“It makes me want to write more and make an even better album next time,” Omori says. “I don’t want to disappoint.”
The young band has played with established acts, learning as they go. “There is a certain aspect of watch and learn,” Omori says. “We are being really inspired by the success that can happen by people who take music seriously, and inspired by the quality of the talent we get to witness on tour.”
Seeing other professional musicians who have many years, even decades, behind them helps motivate Smith Westerns to stay the course—despite the highs and lows that accompany life on the road.
“That has been melded into our persona,” Omori says. The time spent in tour vans and sound checking has helped make them better musicians, he says, which in turn leads to bigger gigs. “It’s very much a validation that our hard work is paying off.”
The end result is thanks to the band sticking to its, er, guns. Smith Westerns was no pushover when it came time to record Dye It Blonde, not even faced with a new label wanting more of the same from its Nuggets-heavy, 2009 self-titled release.
“We didn’t want a ton more production value,” Omori says. “We wanted to make it sound clear but in a way that wouldn’t suck–clean, but very disconnected.” They enlisted producer Chris Coady (TV on the Radio; Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs) to pursue their vision. The result is a graduation from glammy, garage rock recorded in a basement to their bigger-sounding, dreamy indie pop.
When the band expressed its ambitions, the label supported them all the way. “They were like, ‘Whatever you need we will work with you,’” Omori says. It paid off.
The results are songs like the anthem “All Die Young,” reminiscent of post-Beatles John Lennon. The most unusual track stands out not because of its musical merits so much as the back story. “Imagine Pt. 3” is a remake of a song released on a split 7-inch in April 2010. The band essentially covered itself.
“It was like a sketch,” Omori says about the song’s first incarnation. “We wrote that a month after the album came out in 2009. We were excited about where we were going to go next with our sound.”
The first version of “Imagine Pt. 3” next to the Dye It Blonde version shows the band’s growth like height notches in grandma’s kitchen. The updated version is tighter, lusher in its execution. The result is a dreamier version that Coady helped the band reconstruct.
So what’s next? “We’ve had a very good year,” Omori says. “People assume we have this huge ambition, but it’s not really like that. It’s the small things, like playing a show and having a musician you respect show up. I don’t have my heart set on winning a Grammy or anything. I am much more realistic than that.”
But he can still imagine the possibilities.
Smith Westerns with Yeasayer and Hush Hush at The Glass House, 200 W. Second St., Pomona, (909) 865-3802; www.theglasshouse.us. Sun, May 22, 8PM. $20. All ages.
********************************************
Soundcheck: Weezer, Matt Costa, James Fletcher
By Arrissia Owen Turner | Riviera magazine | October 4, 2010
BOY OF SUMMER Matt Costa recorded Mobile Chateau in O.C. | Photo by Neal Casal.
> > When Weezer’s Rivers Cuomo and San Juan Capistrano’s Jorge Garcia (Hurley from Lost) met backstage at Lopez Tonight, it was perfectly random. The intro came after their gig at the U.S. Open of Surfing, just in time for the launch of Hurley’s limited-edition fall collab with Weezer, and after the new CD Hurley (partially recorded at Hurley’s Costa Mesa HQ) hit the streets. Cuomo’s claiming serendipity, but come on. A good marketing ploy isn’t, er, lost on us.
> > > Last time we saw Riviera’s favorite troubadour, Matt Costa, he was strumming on a street corner outside a Sea Shepherd fundraiser (the vegans with a vengeance from the TV show Whale Wars). He was playing sweetly psychedelic songs that didn’t ring a bell, which made us feel unhip around the tatted activist types. Turns out the songs were yet to be released, fresh from Costa’s brand-new album Mobile Chateau. It brings an au courant sound with a new backing band: Fullerton folksters Mothers Sons.
> > > Guess who that left with time on his hands? James Fletcher, Costa’s former drummer, known around O.C. as the sticks behind the Women, Smile, Satisfaction, mPhase and Zee Avi. Now we have the dashing The Booze and Clocks, the Brit expat’s first solo CD, extolling the virtues of one’s own volition.
*******************************
Dad to the Bone
IE Weekly
D’Santi is ready for round two playing pop’s music
Bluesman Albert King stared down the two moppet-headed boys sitting in the front row at the Golden Bear in Huntington Beach. He couldn’t help but rank on them. “I remember him looking at us and saying, ‘Who are these punk kids sitting in the front row?’” says Mike D’Santi, vocalist and guitarist for the band D’Santi.
These “punk kids” were Mike, 12, and his 14-year-old brother, Paul. Their adoration of the blues popped its head out at such an early age, even King, a seasoned blues player, was amused.
“We were starting to let our hair get a little freaky,” Mike says, now in his late 30s. “We didn’t know anything. We were still trying to understand at the time.” It had been less than a year since Mike discovered the drums and quickly abandoned them.
Paul took to the skins, signing up for drum lessons. Mike gravitated toward one of daddy Al’s guitars hanging on the wall. The two were half way to their first band.
Those early days in Ontario were filled with ear benders from their musician father, garage jam sessions and plenty of research through the bins of rock, blues and jazz vinyl.
“There was equipment around the house all the time, bands rehearsing,” Mike says. “That had a big influence on us.” By ages 8 and 9, the brothers had already been spending their lawnmowing money on Saturdays, picking two 45s each to add to their collections, so it wasn’t too much of a surprise.
“I loved Saturdays,” Paul says. “I think we just naturally gravitated toward music. Our dad had a lot of influence on us, but he never forced anything, just made it available.”
