In our Writers and Musicseries, authors discuss the music that has either been included in their most recent novel/poems or the influence music has had on their work overall.
Paul Corman-Roberts edits fiction for Full of Crow and writes the monthly column "Dispatches From Atlantis" for Red Fez. His upcoming flash fiction collection is Sometimes You Invent New Words for Old Losses from Tainted Coffee Press. He's had coffee with Eldridge Cleaver and tea with Harold Norse (not at the same time).
I remember the moment I renounced my right to call myself a musician. It was the moment I decided to sell my trap drum kit in 2005, all so I could have a little bit of extra cash to go out partying with my friends.
I probably did the kit a favor since I sold it to a chemistry teacher who found himself ditched in an office gig. Unlike me, he was not a parent and not trying to be a writer. He genuinely played a lot of music in his free time away from our desk jobs at the school where we worked.
For $60 my co-worker was getting a bass drum, snare, two toms, cymbal with a shaky stand, high hat with a dodgy clutch and my now dead dream of helping hold down the bottom end in a completely unhinged band like the Sisters of Mercy or at least a metalized version of The Cure. I remember saying to myself at the time, “Now I’m a writer.” I knew in intellectual terms this wasn’t true, but I couldn’t viscerally tie it to my practical, everyday existence.
I can now.
It’s absurd to think my desire to write fabulist analogies has nothing to do with how haunted I feel listening to the sturm and drang and/or gothic chanting laid out over the tribal rhythms of the blues. I was four years old when I first heard Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love”…and I had heard Jimi Hendrix and the Stones at an earlier age, but NOTHING had grabbed hold and shaken my understanding of what music could be like in those three power chords as delivered by Jimmy Page, and particularly, power drummer John Bonham, who would become my hero.
I would get that same feeling at the age of 29 when I went to see a couple of post-Beat performance poets named "Vampyre" Mike Kassel and David Lerner at the Paradise Lounge in San Francisco. Those men and various performers in their scene, known as the Babarians, changed my conception of what a poem could be, just like John Bonham changed my conception of what a rock tune could be. Like Bonham, Kassel and Lerner would succumb to substance abuse. The discovery of art that is haunted holds the same thrill as discovering a new haunted house.
To this day, it is why I love dark music and dark writing. Not just the thrill of self-destruction made manifest in art, but the sense that unless that haunted quality of the human condition is not being addressed, then the art being created is not entirely genuine. Or honest. Or even worthy of being considered art.
I miss my drum kit. There are times when I wish I could pound something in anger, but truly, I miss being able to play it when I’m sad. When I’m haunted. Maybe someday I’ll have it back. Until then, I’ve got these words and you. Thank you.
Suicide is a punk/dance/synth pop duo who opened for The Clash in 1978, got booed off the stage every night, and may have been every bit as influential as those punks from London.
Alan Vega and Martin Rev have been called "Electronic pioneers," "Fathers of Synth Pop, Techno and Industrial," and "A true rockabilly outfit who sing bubblegum melodies with a dance beat." And way back in 1970, they were the first band to use the phrase "punk music" on a flyer.
I thought long and hard on how I would introduce Suicide to the uninitiated. Normally, if you want someone to explore a band's catalogue, you might want them to hear something melodic, a cool guitar riff, maybe some great harmonies or even a dance beat.
And if I was excited about a group, the next sentence would go something like, "Well, here's a song with all of that!" And the listening party would begin. You can hear the floor shaking already, can't you?
But I can't say that this time.
When you introduce Suicide to someone, there is really only one track to put on. And "Frankie Teardrop" is none of that.
I've listened to thousands of songs in my life. Songs that have made me feel happy, sad, melancholy, lovesick, and angry. Many had me dancing and on some occasions, I was compelled to throw things.
But "Frankie Teardrop" is the only song that has ever scared me.
The first time I heard it, it startled me, so I turned it off. It took me a few seconds before I gave it another spin.
Now, I can hear a few of you snickering. But consider yourselves lucky. You've had a warning. You know something's coming. I wasn't prepared. And if it's quiet wherever you’re reading this, or if you're alone, do yourself a favor. Listen to the song some other time. Spend the next ten minutes doing something else.
But maybe you like being scared. Maybe there's no one at home where you are. Maybe it is dark outside, and maybe you'll turn up the speakers and give it a listen anyway. So go ahead. Put on your best false bravado and click play.
I'll know this. For the next ten minutes, you'll be whistling in the dark.Just trying to survive.
(Jim Pace can usually be found directing music videos in and around NYC. He will begin production on his first feature film in 2013. He spends his spare time writing songs, screenplays and getting involved in anything that will give him an excuse to listen to more music.)
Musician and writer Alina Simonewas born in Kharkov, Ukraine, and came to the U.S. as the daughter of political refugees. Raised in the suburbs of Massachusetts, Simone moved to Austin, Texas after graduating from art school in Boston. It was there that she first started singing in public, in the doorway of an abandoned bar on Sixth Street. She has released three albums: Placelessness (2007), Everyone is Crying Out to Me, Beware (2008), and Make Your Own Danger (2011).
I first met Alina at Southside Coffee, a charming little shop in my neighborhood in Brooklyn, where we chatted about literature, music and our children. We bump into each from time to time, chat a little bit and then go about our business.
Since I'm usually wrestling with my nine month old twins and she's hard at work on a new novel, this interview was not conducted at Southside Coffee; instead, I e-mailed Alina the questions and she graciously answered them.
Here it goes.
What was the first piece of music that made you want to make music of your own?
I’d have to say it was Judy Garland singing “Somewhere over the Rainbow” in the Wizard of Oz. But once I moved past the showtune phase, Sinead O’Connor. Hearing her on the radio when I was in high school was like a revelation. She was everything the slick, over-produced divas of the 80s wasn’t. Unlike Madonna, she could really sing. She was beautiful even though she shaved her head and wore combat boots. She didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought. It was like a punk rocker had party-crashed the Top 40. But it was her melodies and the fearless quality of her songs and her vocals that blew me away.
What particular song has had an impact on your songwriting?
That would have to be Elliott Smith’s "Between the Bars." Listening to those lyrics, I think I realized a song could be every bit as poignant and literary as one of Raymond Carver’s short stories. I never really connected to troubadours of early generations like Bob Dylan. I feel like Elliott is the Gen Xers Dylan.
What was the first song you wrote that you were proud of?
That’s easy. I threw away every single recording of every song I ever wrote until “Cash America Pawn.” It was the first song I wrote with lyrics that I didn’t feel embarrassed to have sail out of my mouth. The first to verses go like this:
"Used to see you kicking around town / Out behind the Cash America Pawn / With a can of coke and a pack of Pall Malls / Sitting out by the pay phones, watching it get dark
Knew about you from a friend I used to waitress with / You'd go to the park and drink and mess around / Make a fire, down by Doughnut Pond / She'd tell me all about it as she filled the salt"
Why do you think "Cash America Pawn" holds up?
Eesh...well, it only held up to me and by comparison with the other songs I'd written to that point. I'm not saying it will live in the annals of history, but I didn't get sick of singing it a week later or a month later or a year later. Until then, I'd always found it hard to tell a story that had emotional depth and wasn't cheesy. I wasn't interested in finding a new way to say 'Baby, I love you' or 'I miss you,' or whatever. I was trying to say something more complicated and that's, well, hard. Which may explain why I didn't play my first show until I was 26.
How has your songwriting evolved since your first EP in 2005?
My arrangements have become much bigger and lusher. Originally my sound was very raw and spare. Over time, the limitations of that style began to chafe. Plus, I got lonely and wanted to work with a band.
On the song “Make Your Own Danger,” I was taken by the line “Addiction makes us feel real close.” What does this line mean to you? Have other people had strong reactions to this song?
Nope, just you! The line means exactly what you think it means. I’m pretty literal when I write lyrics, actually. I find a lot of beauty in realism. And I think that’s literally true: addictions DO make people feel close. It can be a very toxic bond, or (if the addiction is, say, to Mad Men) a healthy one. But it is a unique bond and one rarely mentioned in songs, which is what drew me to the subject.
You have a toddler at home. How do you think motherhood has affected your songwriting?
Well, that’s a difficult question to answer. I’ll try to be honest. Logistically, it’s made things much more difficult. Since I’m the primary caregiver, whenever I need to rehearse it pretty much means hiring a babysitter. And aside from the financial thing, having this ticking clock in mind is definitely a creative buzzkill. On the other hand, my baby LOVES music and musical instruments. I find myself playing drums with her (which I never did before) and getting inspired to approach songwriting in a whole new way.
Do you find certain environments are especially conducive to your songwriting?
I write songs in my head as I walk. The more depressing the territory, the better.
What songs/lyrics have you written while you were walking?
I wrote all the lyrics to the song "Louisiana" while walking from one end of Hoboken (where I then lived) to the other:
"Do you remember the time we drove out to Louisiana? / To my father's beach house? I got us so lost / I knew right then because you never got angry / when we reached the city, and there weren't any rooms left
So we slept outside under sulphur lights / in the drugstore parking lot / All the stars came out, it was getting cold / But inside, it was so hot. So hot... / The streets were empty."
What do you deem to be "depressing territory"? The mall?
I find exurban sprawl pretty unbearable. Malls, yes, but also those strips of fast food joints, Jiffy Lubes and cheap motels.
What advice would you give to an aspiring songwriter?
The only advice I would give to ANY aspiring artist is to be one hundred percent uniquely yourself. Don’t let yourself get influenced by the trend-of-the-minute or what someone else says would be “easiest” to market. The only currency you have is your authenticity. A lot of bands sound like a lot of other bands. If you sound like yourself, you’ve won.
Are you working on new material? What’s next musically?
I was never a good guitar player and feel like I’ve pushed my guitar-based songwriting to the limit with this last album. So If I record again (fingers crossed!) it will be beat heavy. I’m not working on anything at the moment.
In the post What Ever Happened to Mazzy Star (7/5/11), we told you that the duo might be working on a new album. Well, it has been confirmed. In October 2011, Mazzy Star released their first new material in fifteen years with the double a-sided single "Common Burn/Lay Myself Down." Later this year, they will release their fourth studio album.
Mazzy Star is best known for the atmospheric song "Fade Into You," their biggest hit, which brought them acclaim in the mid 90s.
However after their third album, Among My Swan (1996), vocalist Hope Sandoval and guitarist David Roback parted ways. Sandoval went on to collaborate with Jesus and Mary Chain, Massive Attack, Bert Jansch and The Chemical Brothers before forming her own band, Hope Sandoval & The Warm Inventions, while David Roback has worked with Beth Orton and Sacred Miracle Cave and written songs for the film Clean.
In a July 2009 interview with Rolling Stone, Sandoval claimed that Mazzy Star had been working on its fourth album: "It's true we're still together."
Hope wasn't just building up our hopes; she was telling the truth. Mazzy Star has been working on new material. Meanwhile, the band is on tour with original band members Suki Ewersand Keith Mitchell.
On May 4, 2012 Adam Yauch, aka MCA, aka Nathanial Hornblower, succumbed to cancer at 47. A great musician, accomplished director, and philanthropist, today we'd like to pay tribute to the late rapper by highlighting five of the many things that make him great.
5. He Wrote an Amazing Letter to the New York Times
In 2004, a New York Times critic wrote a negative review to the Beastie Boys’ music video “Ch-Check It Out." Borrowing the same pseudonym he directs under, Nathanial Hornblower, Yauch responded with a bizarre letter proclaiming his genius and reminding the critic that she owes him a goat after his died en route to deliver his letter from the high cliffs of his remote homeland. It’s definitely worth checking out: (http://www.nytimes.com/2004/06/20/arts/20MAIL.html).
4. He was a Director
Yauch directed some of the Beastie Boys’ best videos, including “Intergalactic,” “Make Some Noise” and the epic thirty-minute, star-filled "Fight For Your Right (revisited)." Yauch also directed the 2006 Beastie Boys' film “Awesome; I Fucking Shot That” and the 2008 documentary “Gunnin’ For That #1 Spot.”
3. He was a Philanthropist
Yauch was a supporter of the Free Tibet movement. In addition to creating the Milarepa Fund, a non-profit dedicated to Tibetan independence, he organized the Tibetan Freedom Concert in 1996, which drew over a 100,000 people. In the wake of 9/11, Yauch helped organize the benefit concert New Yorkers Against violence along with his Beastie Boys cohorts.
2. He Founded Oscilloscope Laboratories
Started in 2002 as a record label, Yauch’s Oscilloscope Laboratories quickly branched out into film. Adam had a vision for his company, selecting a wide variety of films including the Banksy documentary “Exit Through The Gift Shop” and the school shooting drama “We Need To Talk About Kevin.” Yauch was a big fan of both films: “I’d say the common thread is really just films that I and other people at the company like…You have to feel like the film has some redeeming quality, feel moved by it for some reason.”
1. He Gave Us The Beastie Boys
You love the Beastie Boys. I love the Beastie Boys. We love the Beastie Boys. Who doesn’t? Adam Yauch co-founded the group when he was just seventeen. They started out as a hardcore punk group before embracing hip-hop and becoming the band that gave the world “No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn” and “Sabotage."
(Elford Alleyhas written plays, sketch comedy, and short stories. He currently lives in Dallas with his wife and daughter. Follow Elford on Twitter.)
"The British Big Star." Those four words have already sent some of you racing over to iTunes. The rest of you are asking, "Who's Big Star?" That's unfortunate. Not as unfortunate as some younger folks asking, "What the heck is a record?" But that's my issue, so we'll move on.
To power pop fans, "Big Star," "The Beatles," "Raspberries," and "Badfinger" are the Holy Grail. When a band is compared to them, you pay attention and hope they stick around.
However, the rise and fall of The Records was so swift, the band should have sued everyone in sight for whiplash. But knowing these boys, they would have eventually sued each other.
After a brief stint together in Kursaal Flyers in 1977, Will Birch asked John Wicks if he wanted to write some songs; he had been impressed with Wicks' sense of pop melody. Wicks, the rhythm guitarist in Kursaal Flyers, would become the singer of The Records; Birch would stick to his drums.
Bass player Phil Brown answered Birch and Wicks' ad in Melody Maker. They placed a second ad, and two hundred guitarists later, they found the left-handed, Huw Gower.
In 1978, Dave Edmunds put music to some lyrics Will Birch had written called "A1 on The Jukebox." Around the same time, a Wicks/Birch song, "Hearts In Her Eyes," was recorded by The Searchers, and still another song was recorded by Rachel Sweet. None of the songs were hits, but it didn't matter.
The new single was a power pop masterstroke, and the band knew it. The song features ringing guitars, memorable hooks and great harmonies. What's not to like? The record companies noticed and came after them hard.
By 1979, they were signed to Virgin Records, and a young hotshot producer was brought in, Robert "Mutt" Lange, whose credits included the Boomtown Rats and would soon become one of the most successful producers in the history of pop music (Def Leppard, The Cars, Shania Twain).
Their U.S. debut, The Records, was well received, and the band was taken on a whirlwind promotional tour. Bands they loved, like the dB's opened for them. They met celebrities, went to parties in limos, opened for The Cars in Central Park, they were giving dozens of interviews and Billy Joel even gave them ties. It looked like nothing could stop them.
According to Birch, after the 1979 U.S. tour, the band made "two big mistakes." The first was the firing of Huw Gower. The second mistake was not bringing back Mutt Lange to produce the second record. But as Birch notes, "I'm not sure he would have stuck around." He probably wouldn't have. In the next eighteen months, Lange would produce AC/DC's Back in Black, Def Leppard's High 'n' Dry and Foreigner's 4.
The second album, Crashes, and the 1980 tour wasn't as much fun. There were no limos, they had to ride public transportation, carrying their own instruments. In seven weeks they did not give a single interview and Billy Joel did not show up with any ties.
After a third record,Music on Both Sides(1982), was shelved by Virgin, the boys went their separate ways. Phil Brown passed away earlier this year; Will Birch became a music critic and published a biography of Ian Dury of The Stone Roses in 2010; John Wicks still plays with a version of the band and Huw Gower has recorded for his own label.
Maybe this should serve as a cautionary tale of some kind. Don't take others for granted? Appreciate what you have? Maybe. But I say screw it, put on some headphones, turn up the volume and listen to this great, great single.
Just do it. I don't want to argue.
(Jim Pace can usually be found directing music videos in and around NYC. He will begin production on his first feature film in 2013. He spends his spare time writing songs, screenplays and getting involved in anything that will give him an excuse to listen to more music.)
did you have to be the only one who insisted on being yourself?
“Pretending" is set in Dan Lynch’s, a classic NYC club. Have you ever been there? If so, did you go specifically to see a band?
I was actually at the music bar, Dan Lynch, on a date. She was a German artist. I put my hand on her leg before the music started. She told me her female roommate was her lover. That was news to me. I took my hand off her leg. She asked me why I didn’t go for men. I told her that men never attracted me. I don’t remember the band much, except for the fact that they were all male and their loud music made it very difficult to continue our conversation, which I was grateful for.
The line “white musicians pretending that they were black” brought several musicians to mind. What white musicians do you think pretend to be black? Why do you think they behave in this manner?
Elvis Presley purposely sounded like a Black man. He sang that way to make money and meet a need. I always liked the film, “Field of Dreams.” There was a line in the movie. “If there’s a need, people will come.” There was a need for the White race to meet the Black race on different terms. Music reflects what goes on in real life.
The Black Panthers were popular while I was going to college. At Washington Square College, New York University, I was in an honors seminar with Ralph Ellison, author of The Invisible Man. He kept saying that society was going to appropriate Black culture. That’s what Elvis did until he took so many pills and got too fat – he had to wear a girdle – to shake. I don’t mean to put down Elvis. I felt sorry for his later life. He had a bad manager who exploited him – put him in too many second-rate movies.
I was struck by the line “the people next to us jumped up & down, pretending that they were rock stars.” They’re the audience not performers and yet they're "pretending to be rock stars." Why do you think some people have such a desire to be on stage? What’s the appeal of being a rock star?
The appeal of being a rock star is fame and more fame. People think it’ll be easier to meet others if you’re already famous. That may be true. But then again did anyone really know Elvis? He was surrounded by his bodyguards. He had very little privacy. When Elvis got married the first thing his wife did was to make a bonfire to burn his books. She was trying to change him. People change slowly.
I’m famous but my fame is only spread among the poetry scene. I have limited fame. That’s the best kind. When I was in Paris – I went there partly to meet a Parisian girlfriend but ended up meeting an American one – I met a young woman who told me she was going to be famous. I said in what area. She said she didn’t know yet, but whatever it was, she was going to achieve fame. I felt sorry for her. She was too driven.
It reminded me of the Phil Ochs' song, “Chords of Fame.” There’s a line that goes, “Whatever you do, don’t play the chords of fame.” This woman was strumming them a little too loud for my taste. It’s like Zen. If you strive for fame, you don’t achieve it. You can only get true fame by not seeking it.
Two of the poem’s central themes are pretense and duplicity. How do you think clubs/bars contribute to a person’s desire to be somebody else or something they’re not?
The music scene is set up for pretending you’re someone else. Look at Janis Joplin – she was a star and yet she still pretended she was popular. If the stars pretend they’re popular, so will the audience. I’ve always liked the Judy Collins’ song, “You make up your memories and think they have found you.” Or like The Kinks wrote, “It’s a mixed-up shook-up world where boys pretend to be girls and girls pretend to be boys.” Bob Dylan wasn’t his real name. Or like the Stones sang, “What can a poor boy do but join a rock & roll band.’ Mick Jagger wasn’t poor. He went to the London School of Economics. In fact, I fantasized about being a rock & roll star along with thousands of other fans.
One of my most memorable moments was when I was told by the owner of an East Side book store that Bruce Springsteen walked in, took my first book from a display, started reading it, then began laughing. Then he bought two copies of my book by check. The owner promised to give me the cancelled check, but he never did. Now the store is closed.
What has been your most memorable live music experience?
When I went to hear Barry Harris play piano at the Jazz Cultural theatre. Harris used to live in the same house in New Jersey with Theolonius Monk and the Countess who took care of them. Monk was a genius pianist and composer who had severe mental problems. Some days he would wake up and not recognize his wife and kids. He acted like they were strangers. Barry would play Monk compositions, like “Around Midnight.”
I empathized with the jazz world, because they were at the lowest end of the music world, like poets being at the lowest end of the writing world. Barry would play Monk’s songs and it felt like they were touching my soul. I felt close to Monk, even though we were entirely different personalities that came from totally different backgrounds.
What are your favorite spots for live music/performance?
I’ve been to Webster Hall with a date to hear The Smithereens. They didn’t impress me. They sounded like a modern day louder version of The Monkees – canned music.
I went to Madison Square Garden with a friend to hear Ike and Tina Turner open for the Rolling Stones. I fell in love with Tina. One of the first questions I asked a woman who I was interested in dating was who did she like better – the Stones or Beatles. If she said the Stones, then she passed the test. If she said the Beatles, I’d ask her who was her favorite one. If she said John Lennon, I’d still ask her out. If she said Ringo Starr, I wouldn’t even bother getting her phone number.
I went to hear Chubby Checker perform at the Fillmore East. I was impressed by his piano playing.
My biggest regret was not going to Woodstock. The friends I was planning to go with chickened out, because they thought they would be busted for drug use. They got paranoid.
I heard Holly Neat and Sweet Honey and the Rock at Carnegie Hall. I remember Holly liberating the men’s bathrooms, telling the women in the audience that they shouldn’t be afraid to use the male facilities. I agreed with her until I had to use the bathroom and had to wait while liberated women cut ahead of me in line.
On Writer’s Almanac, you mentioned your book Stray Cat Blues. Can you talk a little about the title and why you appropriated The Rolling Stones’ song?
Titles cannot be copyrighted. Therefore, anyone can use them. I have another poem, which I use a poplar song title as my title - "Breaking Up Is Hard To Do."
“We don’t have anything in common,”/ I said. “We’re two completely different people./ It doesn’t make sense to stay together.”/ But then she started to rub my penis/ through my pants, & I suddenly remembered / that we both did like Indian food.
"Stray Cat Blues" is the title of a poem in my new collection. I like stray cats, though I’m allergic to them, which is one of the themes in my work – the mind is sometimes a step ahead of the body.
(Photograph by Kim Soles) In our Writers and Musicseries, authors either discuss the music that has been included in their novel/poems or the influence music has had on their work overall.
Hal Sirowitz first began to attract attention at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe where he was a frequent competitor in their Friday Night Poetry Slam. He was a member of the 1993 Nuyorican Poetry Slam team and competed in the National Poetry Slam.
Sirowitz has performed his poetry across the country and on television programs such as MTV's Spoken Word: Unplugged and PBS's The United States of Poetry.
He is best known for Mother Said, My Therapist Said and Father Said. Sirowitz is a 1994 recipient of an NEA Fellowship in Poetryand is the former Poet Laureate of Queens, New York. He is the best-selling translated poet in Norway, where Mother Said has been adapted for the stage and turned into a series of animated cartoons. Sirowitz worked as a special education teacher for 23 years.
Our conversation with Hal is in two parts. Below is part one. Check back tomorrow (5/4) for part two.
Gena Anderson at Bookslut called you “a poor man’s Woody Allen.” What do you think she was suggesting?
I thought of adopting a Bob Dylan persona for interviews and attacking the interviewer. But I like being interviewed. It makes you define yourself. I have a love/hate relationship with Woody Allen. “Manhattan” is one of my favorite all time movies. I hated “Interiors.” Just like Bob Dylan, I expected Woody Allen to reflect my life. I consider them brothers in the arts.
I was devastated listening to “Lay Lady Lay” when it was first played on the radio. That song didn’t have the angst of his previous ones. It didn’t teach me anything about relationships, except to look for sex – something I already knew and wasn’t helpful in keeping the relationship solvent. I thought Dylan was selling out. Now I know he was only being human.
The good thing about poetry is there isn’t much money in it. That gives you freedom to do what you want and to become incognito while doing it. I was never under the gun, like Woody Allen and Bob Dylan, to compete against myself. I wrote some bad poems, like “Lay Lady Lay," but they have gone unnoticed. I think I’m smart enough not to put any of my real bad poems in one of my collections.
How has music informed your poetry?
I compose my poems while listening to music. I like Paul Williams, Mikail Gilmore, and others who wrote about music. I like Townes Van Zandt, and was surprised to know that someone who got more depressed than me was able to put his depression into song. You can’t separate music from my work. I started out wanting to be a poetical version of Bob Dylan, only to give up that fantasy to find my own voice.
You've been a “slam” poet. Do you view yourself as a performer?
I was selected to be on Spoken Word Unplugged with John Hall, leader of the band King Missile and Gil Scott Heron. Performing has always been part of my act. I do a dead-pan performance. Then I developed Parkinson’s Disease, which slurred my speech. I had a brain operation – batteries and electrodes put into my chest and head. I’m the authentic electrical man the poet Walt Whitman wrote about.
Tell me about your relationship with They Might be Giants.
I was the opening act for They Might Be Giants when they were first starting out at a lower East Side club called Darinka. I remember performing four sets in two nights. I was called the “Mother Said” poet, but I never told my mother I was writing about her. I was afraid she might hit me over the head.
John Flansburg brought me to his studio - his old apartment where he lived before he got married - to record me performing my poetry. In those days they had their own music label and would record friends and bands that they liked.
On the radio show “Studio 360,” John Linnnel claimed that their song, "Palindrome," was influenced by my "mother" poems. They were great guys. John Flansburg had a lot of energy and while his main band was resting between gigs, he’d put together another band to perform. He had a show at Mercury Lounge and had me as their opening act for old- time sake. It was a standing room only crowd.
I got on stage and said, “I forgot to bring my guitar. I guess I’ll just have to read this stuff.” There was total silence in the room. Then a few people started laughing. I read my golden oldies – old poems guaranteed to get a reaction from the crowd. After my reading a couple of women declared they were fans and gave me rocks as presents.
What song/album/musician/band has directly influenced your writing?
When I was young I got blown away by the song “Purple People Eater” and Buddy Holly’s “It’s So Easy to Fall in Love.” He was right. It’s harder to find someone who falls in love with you. I always liked Leonard Cohen because he was a poet first and became a songwriter later. He’s not as good live as he is recorded. I liked the compilation albums of other singers recording his songs.
I love the blues – Mississippi John Hurt, John Lee Hooker, etc. I like Billie Holiday – she sings depressing songs in an uplifting manner. I like Cleo Laine – she sings Broadway classics with soul. I like J.J. Cale. The list is endless. I even like early Neil Diamond.
Ever since Jack White burst on the scene, fronting The White Stripes, he’s played a sound all his own. Incorporating a wide array of pedals and amps, he seamlessly plays bass, rhythm, and lead, often employing power chord hooks and blues-infused leads.
Here are ten things about one of our favorite guitar heroes:
10. Man of Many Bands
The White Stripes. The Raconteurs. The Dead Weather. All amazing bands, all fronted by Jack White. When a musician leaves a successful group, his next venture more often than not tends to be similar. Mick Jagger. Hello. But with The Raconteurs and The Dead Weather, Jack White and his band mates bring something very different to the table every time.
9. Produced Loretta Lynn Album
In 2004, Jack White both produced and performed on Loretta Lynn's Van Lear Rose. The album was a major crossover hit and found universal acclaim.
8. He's an Actor
From his uncredited role as an altar boy in 1987’s The Rosary Murders, Jack White has sporadically appeared in various films throughout his career. His first major role was in the 2003 Civil War drama Cold Mountain, of which he also contributed to the soundtrack. He also appeared as Elvis in the 2007 comedy Walk Hard.
7. C0-wrote a "Bond" Song
That’s right. Collaborating with Alicia Keys, Jack White composed the song “Another Way To Die” for the 2008 James Bond movie Quantum of Solace. While the film is less than stellar, the song is fantastic.
6. Owned an Upholstery Business
This should be of no surprise. After all, his first band was called “The Upholsterers.” For years, Jack White was the proprietor of Third Man Upholstery, where he adopted a yellow and black color scheme for his van and uniform, but eventually went out of business due to his habit of transcribing poetry on the inside of furniture and writing bills in crayon.
5. Married Model and Musician Karen Elson
Not much to say about this one except good for you, Jack White. Good for you.
4. Fan of the Blues
He’s regularly covered greats like Son House. He considers Son House’s “Grinnin’ In Your Face” his favorite song, and his appreciation of the Delta Blues has been instrumental in his unique sound.
3. Almost Became a Priest
During an interview with 60 Minutes in 2005, Jack White told Mike Wallace that as a child he had been accepted into a seminary school in Wisconsin, and had planned on becoming a priest. Instead, he opted to go to public school and pursue his interest in music. Thank God, right?
2. Featured in Two Documentaries
That’s right, not one, but two. In 2009, he appeared in The White Stripes: Under Great White Northern Lights which followed him and band mate Meg White as they played a show in every single Canadian province and territory. He was also featured in the 2009 documentary It Might Get Loud, where he traded licks and stories with Jimmy Page and The Edge.
1. Just Released First Solo Album
Yep, the guy who has fronted three amazing bands and played with everyone from Jeff Beck to Bob Dylan has finally got around to releasing a solo album. April 24th saw the release of his debut solo album, Blunderbuss.
As to why he’s waited so long to release a solo album, he had this to say: "I've put off making records under my own name for a long time but these songs feel like they could only be presented under my name. These songs were written from scratch, had nothing to do with anyone or anything else but my own expression, my own colors on my own canvas."
(Elford Alley has written plays, sketch comedy, and short stories. He currently lives in Dallas with his wife and daughter. Follow Elford on Twitter.)
Four years ago, Alabama Shakes was an unknown, high school band from Athens, Alabama. Now they're playing sold out shows, appearing at SXSW, performing on the David Letterman Show, Conan and Later...With Jools Holland and touring the States in support of their debut album, Boys & Girls, which was released earlier this month.
When singer Brittany Howard first approached bassist Zac Cockrell about starting a band, they had no idea what kind of a band it would be. They experimented with everything from progressive rock to country. As Howard described it: “We started to come across our own sound a little bit, though it's evolved a lot since then."
With the addition of drummer Steve Johnson, a punk and metal aficionado, they embraced a soulful rock sound, one proudly showing its blues roots. Heath Fogg, a well-known local guitarist joined after asking the group to open for his own band; they agreed as long as Fogg played with them. The guitarist obliged, later joining Alabama Shakes as a full-time member, and the line-up was complete.
Alabama Shakesgot their start playing dives and empty clubs, rounding out sets with covers as they wrote original material and crafted their sound. The band grooves on stage, employing a raucous blues-rock and soul sound, while playing covers as varied as Otis Redding and AC/DC. Brittany Howard tears it up with her powerful, mournful vocals. In a recent interview with American SongwriterHoward said, “We definitely paid our dues.”
Their first single “Hold On," a song about staying strong, illustrates their signature mix of blues, rock and soul. The band also conducted a recent web exclusive performance of the song “I Ain’t The Same.”
One of their biggest challenges has been to record an album that showcases their greatest strength - live performance. While Boys & Girls doesn't quite capture the energy of Alabama Shakes' live show, their debut is a damn good rock and roll record and a fine introduction to a band that possesses a bright future.
(Elford Alley has written plays, sketch comedy, and short stories. He currently lives in Dallas with his wife and daughter. Follow Elford on Twitter.)
Recent Comments