Tag: seattle

Breaks and Swells To Debut New Songs Friday at Belltown Yacht Club

Seattle-based singer Marquetta Miller met most of her fellow bandmates in blistering soul fusion band Breaks and Swells while working a cocktail bar in Seattle’s Capitol Hill neighborhood. It’s in this same neighborhood, at a dive-y karaoke bar, that Miller met legendary Seattle producer, Erik Blood, who ended up sculpting their last release, We Will Not Despair. 

We Will Not Despair, which dropped in July 2018, was an album that captured Breaks and Swells’ renewed focus after almost 8 years on the scene—and the election of Donald Trump. As Miller puts it, they decided to drift a little further from mimicking the influences that brought them together—throwback soul and R&B and the contemporary success of groups like Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings—toward more of their own sound. This also entailed getting more political than they had before, particularly with the title track. As KEXP said, the song was “a subversive act of joy in a situation that seems to feed on sucking away hope on a daily (okay, maybe hourly) basis.”

A year and half since sharing their subversive enthusiasm, Breaks and Swells are hard at work on their next batch of songs. Their forthcoming release promises to build on contemporary themes of news burn-out and desperation in the face of the Trump regime. The seven-piece group, which blends soul, funk, pop, and R&B, will be playing this Friday at Belltown Yacht Club. Miller sat down with Audiofemme this week to talk about the origins of her buzzy, mellow vocals, the new forces that have been moving Breaks and Swells creatively, and to tease the selection of new songs they’ll play on Friday.

This Q&A has been edited for length and clarity.

AF: Have you always been musical? Tell me about early influences that sculpted you into a singer.

MM: I just kind of always been that kid who wouldn’t stop singing. I always wanted to have the solos when I was little. I didn’t take voice lessons until I was quite a bit older, but I grew up  in Fairbanks, Alaska in a time when school districts actually spent money on music education. I had a comprehensive music education from Pre-K through third grade. So, I knew how to do music already and I did band and choir.

AF: When did you move to Seattle? What about the music scene in Seattle was alluring to you?

MM: I moved to Seattle 14 years ago. I came down here to be mostly around the music scene. I did sort of have aspirations of going to Cornish and then I started one year at UAS in Fairbanks going to school for music and just decided I didn’t actually like it. I already had some friends who were down here doing music in some capacity—whether they were doing engineering work or also playing in bands—so I talked with some people who liked being here. Obviously, there are a lot of really cool bands. That was one thing that I really tripped out on in moving here like, those are the Blood Brothers and there’s Ben Gibbard at the breakfast stop. I was tickled by that.

Plus, I’ve been in the Central District for many years. I mean, there really is a history of R&B music here—obviously, Quincy Jones, but also Ray Charles lived here for quite some time and Stevie Wonder did as well.

AF: Do you still feel like that is part of Seattle?

MM: I mean, I do. If anything, I think that the scene has rallied around itself a little bit. I really feel I’m seeing an increase of really intentional support. People really making an effort to go to other people’s shows, promoting other people’s shows, making sure they’re posting pictures. If you can gas somebody up, then you do. I feel like this is a really supportive scene—and across genre too. I have lots of friends who are in other bands who aren’t necessarily of a similar genre to Breaks and Swells, but they come out to our shows and I go to theirs.

AF: Tell me how Breaks and Swells became a group.

MM: We’ll have been together for eight years this summer. I worked at Liberty, a cocktail bar at 15th and Republican, and our original bass-player Kevin was also working there. He lived with our drummer Derrick. Dylan, our guitar player, started working there at some point and I actually trained him, and that day all we did was talk about the playlist I was listening to and talk about music.

AF: Breaks and Swells has a very different sound as compared to other Seattle bands. There’s funk and jazz—and the sort of face-melting power of Tower of Power and Funkadelic that is not all that common from Seattle. What inspired your sound?

MM: I think, for the most part, we all grew up with an appreciation with some area of funk or soul, R&B. I grew up listening to a lot of Motown, eighties R&B and New Jack Swing stuff like Bobby Brown and Janet Jackson, obviously Boys II Men. I’m personally a massive Stevie Wonder fan (I saw him at Key Arena when he had the Songs in the Key of Life Tour, and it was amazing. I literally cried for three hours without stopping). But, we all love the Allman Brothers, Blood Sweat and Tears. We all have a lot of different influences. Our drummer is in a math rock band and listens to a lot of hard core and emo, and everyone is into everything.

I think with our first record and early on [we played off the heyday of] Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings, Charles Bradly, Lee Fields—there was a lot of throwback going on. All of those artists have that authenticity. We tried too hard to be throwback [at first] without really thinking about what kind of music we really wanted to make. So, I think We Will Not Despair, our last record, was really an attempt to figure out where those classic old-school influences meet a newer, more R&B-pop kind of sound.

AF: I know you’re not primarily a funk band, but you draw in so much of that influence I have to ask: every band that plays funk seems to have some sort of philosophical funky saying or catch-phrase. Does Breaks and Swells have one?

MM: There is a song on We Will Not Despair called “Bomb,” and we repeat “That bomb shit!” That kind of started as a joke but we realized it’s perfect. So, it’s like, at some shows we can really get people into yelling it with us, which is pretty fun.

On the recording of the song, there’s a whole section in the background of clapping, stomping, talking, laughing and Erik Blood literally running back and forth across the doors and windows of the booth trying to get us hyped. That was the last day of recording, and everyone was super loopy after six days of recording. Blood’s got that magic.

AF: So, tell me more about working with local producer Erik Blood. What does he bring to Breaks and Swells?

MM: We did a single with Erik about two years before we did We Will Not Despair, called “Wonderful.” I met Erik at an old Capitol Hill bar called The Bus Stop—this great divey gay bar—doing karaoke there like a million years ago and one of my friends insisted that we had to meet. We talked and we knew we would work together at some point. I ran into him every once in a while and then we [reached out to him] when we had that single to record.

Erik Blood has great bedside manner. He’s not necessarily nice in the studio, but he’ll tell you what you need to do and when you’re fucking up. This whole last record, I never got to hear my vocals in the bounce mixes. I think Erik didn’t want me to be neurotic about it. He really cracks me up. I like working with him a lot.

AF: I know your most recent album was a sort of a statement against the 2016 election. What was it you wanted to say?

MM: I wanted to say, “Hold on, guys.” Like, “This might suck, but we’re going to get there.” That attitude can be about many different things—like your relationship or the state of the world. I feel like in particular that title track, people seemed to really like it. It was one of those things where I got to have a couple little digs at the man in office without being super over the top. At the end of the day, if we can stick together and focus and not be burnt out, maybe we can get through this.

AF: Has the process of making and performing the album helped you cope with Trump’s presidency?

MM: Oh yeah. It’s funny [when I wrote the] first line of the song it started out as a love song, this obsessive idea of like you’re always on my mind, I can’t get you out of my head. And then I realized, oh, I’m doing this with the news right now. I’m like what’s on HuffPo, what’s on Politico, what’s on Slate? It’s a vicious feedback loop of freaking out but also not really doing anything but being stoned on the couch and being really upset. So, I thought, I can’t do this for four years.

I think [breaking that feedback loop] requires me to refocus a bit. I mean, like, Donald Trump is not the beginning or the end of the problems that are going on right now. I mean certainly, I think he’s exacerbating a lot of them and creating many unique moments on his own, but you know, it’s like, you have to decide what you’re going to focus on and where you can actually have some impact. Is it fighting with people on Facebook? I don’t think so.

I know people don’t like to talk about politics—I don’t know what that is. But I always thought that was weird that we don’t talk about politics. The government has a big impact on [how] our day-to-day lives operate. It seems odd to me to make it taboo to discuss that. I think it’s also why we can’t discuss it in a functional, rational way. We can’t separate it from emotion. Honestly, one of the big things too, is having sensitivity and care for myself. There are things that honestly aren’t worth arguing about. I don’t think it’s an argument worth having to say its okay to take children from their families and put them in cages and potentially lose them. There’s not justifiable argument for that. I’m not going to argue about it because I think it ultimately says something about your morality, not your intelligence.

AF: So does your work in Breaks and Swells feel more productive than your eyes than engaging in these sorts of arguments?

MM: Yeah, absolutely. I think that [using music for discussion] has really driven the writing on this next batch of songs—“Ladybugs” and “Bot Fly,” are already out in the world through live sessions we did with Adam Audio at Bob Lang’s. So, we’re getting into this idea: what are these simple ways that we can care for ourselves and also care for each other? How do we find ways to chill and connect [in the current context] and how do we know that it’s OK to do that?

“Ladybugs,” explores anxiety—where you just can’t leave the house, you can’t make the effort to put on pants. I think it also struggles with the idea of wasted potential. And then the other song, “Bot Fly,” is a comment on the bro-grammer culture that’s growing up around here, toxic masculinity. It’s this idea that a dude builds a robot girlfriend and she’s exactly what he wanted—which is the worst.

AF: So, the new album builds on the previous. When do you foresee it’ll come out?

MM: We’re just now talking with Erik Blood right now about recording in May. We think it’s going to be an EP.

AF: Tell me about the show on Friday at Belltown Yacht Club. Will you play those new songs and will there be anything special for fans to expect?

MM: Yeah, so “Ladybugs” and “Bot Fly” have been in our set for about the last six months—maybe longer. We actually are going to be playing two brand new, never heard before songs on Friday as well. And, because I’ve been teaching more, I’ve been playing a lot more guitar—because I don’t play piano. So, I’ve been playing guitar a lot more than I have in so long, so I’ve been trying to write on guitar for the first time since I was 20. So, one of the new songs we’re playing this weekend is a song that I wrote. It’s been a minute since there was a full Marquetta Miller original.

White Night Expand the Meaning of “Home” with INGO Remix

On “Home,” the new remixed single from electro-pop duo White Night, there’s a chime-like synth pattern and haunting vocal loops that swell over a percussive drumbeat. It’s classic indie electronica—and in some ways, not a sound that most people would associate with Seattle. Yet, White Night’s singer and violist, Elizabeth Boardman grew up right here in the Emerald City—this is where her musical journey began, and upon deeper listening, you can hear it.

Boardman remembers her parents playing everything from Nirvana to opera around the house, and at just three, she says she “begged” to start piano lessons. “I remember, from a very early age, taking comfort in the distraction and creative wholeness felt in sitting at the piano and improvising your own little songs,” she says. “I started playing viola when I was eight and as soon as I was old enough to join the Seattle Youth Symphony orchestra program, I fell in love with the sweeping romance and drama of composers like Tchaikovsky and Sibelius.”

After completing Garfield High School, Boardman moved to London to study viola performance at the Trinity Laban Conservatoire of Music and Dance and then later completed her Masters of Music at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music. It was there Boardman met German-born Willi Leinen, a Classical Guitar student, and the two began dating and making music together.

“Both of us had composed a bit on our own and Willi had been in a couple bands, where as I had only dabbled a little in pop songwriting before we started working together,” said Boardman. “But we both had that creative itch that was a relief to scratch amidst the stiffness and stress of our classical studies.”

Initially, Boardman and Leinen were only able to collaborate virtually, sending musical ideas to each other over the internet, since Leinen had moved back to Berlin and Boardman was still in the San Francisco Bay Area.

“Our first songs were put together across the ocean,” said Boardman. “We had our first radio airtime on a German radio station, [and] we hadn’t even played the music in the same room together. We’d only done it long distance.”

Boardman then moved in with Leinen in Berlin, partly to be closer to a major epicenter for classical and electronic music, and to take advantage of the city’s affordable living and vibrant culture. Since, the two have continued to hone the alternative synth-pop of White Night, drawing both on the mood of the Pacific Northwest and the electronic scene in Berlin.

For instance, on the title track from their 2018 debut album, Golden Heart, there’s the sweeping drama of Pacific Northwest scenery adorned with cinematic textures, strings, and a music video featuring many shots from the San Juan Islands. Musically, the track could sit alongside the music of Pacific Northwest indie-folk artists like Damien Jurado, Fleet Foxes, and Noah Gundersen. Meanwhile, another single on Golden Heart, “Money,” has more distinct Euro-pop flavor. A techno dance beat underpins as Boardman speak-sings, “Fancy cars/fancy clothes/what is real/what is fake/Money makes it yours to take.”

This newly-released version of “Home” is the best of both worlds. Originally appearing on Golden Heart, remix duties were handled by their friend, German drummer Hanns Eisler, who goes by INGO. The intoxicating momentum and precision in production ties the track to the vibrant electronic music scene in Berlin. At the same time, there’s also a good dose of the raw authenticity and quirkiness of the Seattle indie folk sound; “Home” brings to mind Northwest-bred Benjamin Gibbard’s work in Postal Service, as well as ODESZA and Feist.

Lyrically, the song explores what “Home” is and there’s a moody tension that swells throughout the track—almost as if the singer is in two places at once. “The song is about the concept of one’s ‘home’ being a collection of memories and nostalgic feelings which are untainted by time. Relationships, individuals, environments and circumstances are constantly evolving, appearing, and disappearing as one goes through life. Home is what we hold still in our minds and in our hearts,” explains Boardman.

The release of this single marks a new period for White Night, who have toured much with Golden Heart throughout Germany and the West Coast of the U.S. since last year. Right now, they are looking forward to writing a new EP, continuing to teach classical music from their home studio in Berlin, and eventually, to getting back out on the road.

“We are very excited to keep songwriting and hone our genre and style before we plan any bigger tours,” said Boardman. “For now, we are back to the songwriting grind-stone!”

Follow White Night on Facebook for ongoing updates.

Eleni Govetas Draws On Balkan Family Ties with The Melez Band

As far back as Seattle’s Eleni Govetas can remember there’s been Balkan music in her life. By seven years old, she knew the heat of a Greek summer well, winding through tobacco fields on dirt roads in the backseat of her parents’ car towards the twang of bouzouki in the distance.

“We’d drive with the windows down,” Govetas said, “and listen to find the party.”

After all, Govetas’ parents, Christos Govetas and Ruth Hunter, are two of Seattle’s most prominent Balkan musicians and the founders of Seattle’s annual Balkan Night Northwest, the biggest pan-Balkan festival in the region. Balkan Night Northwest, happening this year on March 7th, 2020, celebrates the cultural similarities among Balkan countries—instead of ongoing tensions.

“The fact that we can have a space [with Balkan Night Northwest] where we’re co-habitating with Albanians, Greeks, Turks and Croats, Serbs, all in the same room is pretty ground-breaking, even though we’re in the United States. These people have a lot of history and things to work through,” said Eleni Govetas.

Christos Govetas and Ruth Hunter met at a Balkan music camp, shortly after Christos immigrated to the U.S. from Greece in 1978. When Eleni and her brother Bobby were born, the family relocated to Seattle to be nearer to Christos’ sister and the large Greek community in the area. Annual trips to Greece were tradition and just one layer of Eleni and Bobby Govetas’ rich upbringing surrounded by Balkan music and culture.

“Community is really important to [my family.] We throw parties all the time at the house. Like 300-people-with-two-lambs-on-the-spit types of parties,” Eleni said.

It was during these sorts of music-forward gatherings, as well as at music camps and festivals like Balkan Night Northwest, that Eleni first got interested in playing and performing Balkan music herself. She began performing traditional Greek music with her parents when she was only nine, playing hand percussion instruments. Eventually, she asked for more instruments—like drums, a stand-up bass, a saxophone, a trumpet—and once she was older, started traveling to Balkan countries to hone her craft.

In November 2018, Govetas co-founded The Melez Band with trumpet player Benji Rifati, who is half Roma. The band also includes Mik Bewsky on electric guitar, and Govetas’ brother Bobby Govetas, on goč, a type of percussion instrument from Serbia. The band just got back from traveling as a collective to Macedonia to study with Džambo Aguševi, a “hot-shot” contemporary trumpet player who’s quite popular in the Balkans.

With The Melez Band, Govetas pivots slightly from her parents—who still play primarily Greek and Bulgarian music. Govetas is particularly interested in another subset of Balkan music—that of the Romani people in Macedonia—but she makes it clear that she is not herself Roma.

“We’re playing Rom music, but we are all white,” said Govetas. “Benji is half Roma, but we all grew up here in the U.S. It’s touchy what we’re doing.”

It’s touchy because, as Govetas puts it, Romani people are the “kicking dog of the world”—especially throughout the Balkans. “There’s a level of oppression and lack of respect and acknowledgement of this minority group being the life of this music. Balkan musicians [are often] taking songs written by Rom musicians and calling them their own,” said Govetas.

For her part, Govetas has spent the time to learn the Roma people’s culture and history of oppression, she says, so she can play their music as respectfully as possible. Govetas has also traveled to Macedonia and Greece to study the music from the Roma people first-hand, and the band works with the Eastern European Folklife Center and Balkan Camp to better understand how they can appreciate Rom music without appropriating it.

“[I think you must] really spend time before you open your mouth or blow through your instrument to put your ego and self aside,” she said.

When they aren’t travelling, The Melez Band seems to be answering a demand for something different in Seattle. They played quite a few gigs in Seattle last year, many of them at major clubs rather than the cultural centers or weddings where Balkan music is more commonly heard. This change in venue is very conscious, and one of several ways Govetas and The Melez Band try to make Balkan music—often written in odd time signatures and keys—more accessible to the average listener.

“Most people just don’t know about Balkan music. It’s not the easiest thing to listen to if you’re new to it. We’re trying to break that wall down and bring people in and show that it’s easy to like,” said Govetas.

The Melez Band will plays Capitol Hill’s Lo-Fi  at 9pm on Saturday January 25th, with funk band The Braxmatics and the soul-funk fusion of Holy Pistola.

Confronting Death With Amanda Winterhalter

Photo By Nikki Barron

On the title track of her new album, What’s This Death, Amanda Winterhalter sings, “You don’t talk to death, you listen close.” It’s the perfect set-up for the powerhouse 7-track record, which leans in to the stories we tell about death and loss, and reflects them back in a fresh light.

This bittersweet nature of What’s This Death, released on October 4th, was born organically out of Winterhalter’s penchant for gothic Americana and the losses she endured in the last three years. What’s This Death, which shimmers with inflections of Southern rock, rockabilly, and tender indie folk, explores death in its myriad of forms. From the loved on who’s passed on and the once-close friendship that’s grown distant, to more symbolic deaths—like the parts of ourselves that transform along the way.

“I’ve always been interested in death since it’s such a universal part of living, and there’s so much story around it/through it,” Winterhalter said about the record. “My only grandparent I ever knew died a few years ago and I experienced the death of a few significant relationships over the last three years, so all of that definitely influenced these songs as well.”

In conversation with Audiofemme,  Winterhalter dove deep into her early life in a rural town on the outskirts of Seattle, her muses, and the raw space of writing and recording What’s This Death.

AF: Where are you from? What got you into music?

AW: I grew up on a small farm about an hour north of Seattle, and I’ve lived in Seattle for about eight years. I had a lot of opportunities to participate in music and performance as a kid – my parents made me and my brothers take piano lessons (I loved playing piano, but I hated practicing!), I sang in church and school choirs, and began to perform as a singer/songwriter and play in bands when I was a teenager.

AF: Is music your full-time gig?

AW: Hahaha – no. That’s a hard full-time gig to muster, and I feel really lucky to work at a fantastic arts & culture nonprofit in Seattle that gives me enough flexibility and energy to also play a lot of music. It does sometimes feel like having two full-time jobs, though.

AF: Your sound has been described as “Gothic Americana.” What does that mean to you? What are some major muses for your music?

AW: Yeah, a lot of people see or hear the word gothic and immediately think goth, or even metal, but we land at a different spot on the genre wheel. Gothic Americana shows up in our sound through a whole lot of grit with a good balance of tenderness on a foundation of some traditional American musical approaches. The pedal steel, soaring choruses, and upright bass lend the backbone of the Americana, and the overdrive and dig and lyrical content provide the gothic feeling and visuals. Some big influencers of our sound as we’ve developed as a band have been Gillian Welch, Townes Van Zandt, Patty Griffin, Cinematic Orchestra, Brittany Howard and Alabama Shakes, Sturgill Simpson.

AF: What’s the story behind What’s This Death? What inspired the album and how long did you spend making it?

AW: About half the songs were written on trips I took around the Pacific Northwest – a cabin at Lake Quinault, a tent on the coast of Haida Gwaii. Some of the tracks are inspired by works of literature that I wrote to perform for Bushwick Book Club Seattle shows. When we were ready to head into the recording studio, these seven songs were the ones from the basket that worked the best as a whole, all coming together around a death theme expressing different manifestations of that through lyrics on loss, distance, disconnection, and grief. We started recording with Johnny Sangster at Crackle & Pop! Studio in January 2019 and in between his tour legs performing with Neko Case, we wrapped up the project by March. Rachel Field at Resonant Mastering put on the final touches, and we spent the summer getting ready for the release in early October. 

AF: How does What’s This Death build on your previous release, Olea?

AW: Olea presented a lot of different musical influences, from jazz and folk to rock and Americana. I think What’s This Death shows our development as a band and zeroes in on the balance of grit and tenderness with a bit more cohesion across the tunes. It feels like part of a crescendo, and I think the next album will be a really exciting next stop on that swell.

AF: Is the new album in conversation with the past, present or future? In other words, where was your mind as you were writing these songs?

AW: There’s a lot of conversation with all three on this album. Some of the songs deal with my disconnection from Christianity and the church and that culture and community. Some of the songs are dialogues or monologues of self-talk that both reflect on the past and process the present, as well as try to imagine the future. In all, I think there’s a constant voice of reassurance that even though the future is uncertain, you can anchor yourself and take the agency you need to move forward.

AF: What were the biggest challenges making this new record?

AW: Oh, recording is always a pretty raw and vulnerable space. It’s a really fun time, and provides a lot of inspiration and excitement to hear things coming together as a whole. But when you hear your voice or your instrument isolated while mixing or recording, you hear all your mistakes and flaws. Which is necessary for growth, of course! But there’s always a little soreness and self-consciousness as you’re building your muscles to make your output match your vision.

AF: Tell me about the title track—I hear old time influence in it especially. Did you grow up learning bluegrass, old time, or traditional folk? What’s your relationship to those traditions?

AW: No, I didn’t grow up with that kind of music at all, actually! But I was very drawn to it. Mostly I discovered roots and traditional music through movies with, like, T Bone Burnett or Quincy Jones soundtracks (Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?, The Color Purple). I discovered old jazz and blues at a young age on my own, and that was kind of the first flag of individuality in my music taste since the music in my environment was mostly contemporary Christian and country and some oldies sprinkled in. It wasn’t until my late teens and 20s that I got deeper into the canon of 20th-century music and the incredible local music scene in Seattle. Roots music is so important and resonant to me because of core storytelling – I’m fascinated by the time traveling experience that music provides, and the ability to see into cultures and a broad human experience.

AF: What’s your favorite track on the album? Tell me about the process of writing it.

AW: I love them all! I think my fallback favorite is usually “What’s This, Death?” because it really encompasses in every way – lyrically, musically, conceptually – exactly who I am as an artist and what we do as a band. Every instrument and piece of the band is featured in that song in some way, and I love that!

AF: How does a song start for you? A melody, an idea, a combination of both?

AW: For me, the seed of a song is almost always a melodic phrase. Usually an actual phrase of words pops into my head and my brain puts some notes underneath the words. I’ll build the rest of the song out on my guitar around that melodic phrase, and once I have the musical framework, I’ll finish the lyrics. Sometimes all of the lyrics come along as I build out the song musically. I kind of need both – if I don’t have both a basis of melody and words/concept, it’s tough to move forward and create a whole song.

AF: What do the next few months look like for you? Are you on tour?

AW: We are currently wrapping up little northwest tour! We’ve been making our way through Oregon and will end in Clarkston, WA on 11/22 and Moscow, Idaho on 11/23. Then we’ll do one last show of the year at Tim’s Tavern on December 13 with Claire Tucker and Frames In Motion. And then we’re super excited to start off 2020 playing at Timbrrr! Winter Music Festival in Leavenworth on January 25!

AF: What are you goals with music? What have been the biggest obstacles to those goals? The biggest help?

AW: My main goal is just to keep making music! My vision for sound and songs is always expanding, and I want to keep growing as an artist to always get closer to realizing that vision. I love challenging myself to create music that makes me feel something, and when it resonates deeply with an audience, too, that’s just the best experience in the world. I’d love to keep creating and keep sharing our music with more and more people. The music industry isn’t in a state that provides much support for artists. And while I think the democratization of music is good and necessary, it also creates a lot of over-saturation. But I believe there’s space and an audience for everyone who wants to work at their craft and share it with the world. And finding communities that share that belief is the biggest help. I don’t believe anyone gets anywhere without the support of a community of collaborators, and I’ve been really lucky to find mine. The people I make music with are the best people I know, and we all have so much appreciation for one another. 

Follow Amanda Winterhalter on Facebook for ongoing updates.

Guayaba Melds Bossa Nova, Psychedelia and Horrorcore on New LP

Photo by Úna Blue

In 1959, in the midst of an American craze for bossa nova, Brazilian director Marcel Camus made his stunning film Black Orpheus, an adaptation of the Greek tragedy of Orpheus and Eurydice set in the mid-century favelas of Rio de Janeiro. In the opening scene, a clamoring procession of villagers play tambourines and drums, women transport jugs of water on their heads, and children play dice in the dirt. Slowly, soft singing and nylon-string guitar fades in like a gloomy, mysterious fog. This is “saudade,” the Portuguese word for a profound, encompassing melancholy, and the essence of Fantasmagoría, the new spell-binding album from Afro-Cuban rapper Guayaba, which arrived November 11.

The follow-up to 2016’s Black Trash/White House, Fantasmagoría is more than Black Orpheus—it’s a fever dream imbued with elements of South American psychedelia, negro spirituals and horrorcore. With artful concept and elaborate production, Guayaba guides the listener through revenge, magic, and death, then brings us back to life again. The album channels saudade, as well as magical elements of Candomblé, an Afro-Brazilian religious tradition akin to Santeria, and the concise, pared-down beauty of bossa nova. In fact, the film Black Orpheus—which Guayaba “enjoys quite a bit”—is referenced directly in a track by the same name.

Audiofemme caught up with Guayaba to hear about their early days of performing, their wordplay and theme-driven songwriting process, and the making of Fantasmagoría.

AF: Tell me about how you got into music – what inspired you to start performing?

G: Music has been in my life for as long as I can remember, which may be a stereotypical answer. I was in choir from a young age, sang in a few school talent shows, had a bit of classical training in community college and some vocal music classes in college. I was absolutely terrified of performing in the beginning, so I worked my way up in a somewhat linear fashion; uploading music semi-anonymously to myspace, then uploading videos of myself on youtube, onto coffeeshops/busking, and finally my first live show in January of 2015. By then I felt prepared enough to perform in front of others, but it was somewhat of a journey. As for my inspiration, I wanted to do operatic vocals for a gothic metal band. I wish my origin story was more exciting.

AF: Do you have a creative process? Do songs most often happen in pieces, on-stage, or all at once in the studio for you?

G: My creative process definitely takes place in pieces. It may take a minute for me to put together a song; sometimes it’s very easy, sometimes it’s 3D chess. I like to include particular themes and wordplay in my music that I do have to think about, so I’ll often revisit lines to see how I feel about them. 

AF: How do you define your sound and influences? Or do you prefer to let it all be undefined and organic?

G: I jokingly have referred to my music as ‘funeral trap’ before, but I do feel like that’s a somewhat accurate description of my rapping. I stand at a crossroads of horrorcore, alternative r&b, psychedelia and latin music. and I like to play with the idea of what things are or aren’t musically. Things are developing so rapidly in the musical climate, especially in hip-hop. As a joke I often call myself a grindcore musician as my songs are often short. 

My influences are extremely broad; I minored in ethnomusicology at Evergreen and have an appreciation for every genre. For this album specifically, my influences are across the board; from Yma Sumac to Billie Holiday to Diamanda Galas and so on. I was and am a huge metalhead and goth kid, and elements of that slip into this record as well. There’s an overwhelming sense of dread hanging over the head of the listener, and it invokes a sense of saudade despite there being very subtly bossa influence. We’ve taken South American psychedelia, negro spirituals, choruses of the dead, and dances of the living and invited them to stay here for a while.

AF: Tell me about the inspiration behind your new album, Fantasmagoría. What does the title mean? Or rather, where is Fantasmagoría? It feels like you’ve taken us to a new place.

G: The definition of Fantasmagoría is “a sequence of real or imaginary images like those seen in a dream.” It was also a form of horror theatre that used projected images and often sensory elements. The album’s overarching themes are sleep, death, magic, and revenge, and guides you through an uneasy dream that turns into a nightmare within a nightmare. It is largely based on my own dreams, of which I am lost deep in forests being chased, feeling a terror I’d never feel in the waking world. Fear that gives me the anxiety of death and forces me to come to terms with it. I float down rivers of crocodiles and wild dogs snap at my heels. I wanted to build a sense of urgency that occurs when you have to run, but it feels as though you’re running through quicksand. I want to portray the feeling of seeing who you hate the most, but only being able to hit them in slow motion. The frustration, the fear, the anxiety; it’s something we all experience. But the way I experience it lies deep within a jungle and I will only take you deeper.

AF: How did the new album challenge you? How do you think it expands on your earlier work?

G: This album challenged me in ways that I could never imagine. I’ve never put so much work into a piece of art before, and I’ve never invested so much of myself into something like this. Black Trash/White House was a fun experiment in finding my sound/establishing myself as Guayaba. It was recorded in Luna God’s (the producer’s) bedroom and I just didn’t take it as seriously as I could’ve. We put a lot of hard work and time into Fantasmagoría; I wanted a cohesive concept that I felt proud of, not just something I slapped together out of what felt like necessity. BT/WH was surprisingly well-received, and I had to elevate that. I had to take my time, but things happen for different reasons.

 AF: Who was essential to making this album happen? Who appeared on the album and what did they bring to the table?

G: Eric Padget is the other essential person on this project I couldn’t have done myself. Eric had me come in for sessions in his isolation booth, engineered and mixed the record, and has generally taken care of every aspect of what needs to be done that I’m not able to take on (distribution, promotions, etc). He is also just an amazing friend who got me through hard times when I thought I was going to give up, or on days where it felt like I could sleep through a week. Eric is amazing and this project would not exist without him.

Fish Narc is the producer of “Mariposa Mala,” and WOLFTONE produced the rest of the beats on the album. He’s a good friend who made the beats for me knowing the sound I was looking for, so I just went for it. We brought in Lori Goldston, an amazing noise cellist, and Michaud Savage, who played the classical nylon stringed guitar. Eric also played the cornet which was excellent. I did all of the percussion and vocals/animal sounds as well.

Without their involvement, this would’ve been a completely different album. Eric is amazing to the point that, towards the end of the record when I asked about adding live instruments, he asked “What did you have in mind?” without hesitation. They added an entirely new dimension to the beats and made them stand out in a way that I think is really exciting.

AF: As a fan of Latin music, I was really interested in your song entitled “Black Orpheus”—which, in some ways, fees like a modernized version of the classic by Antonio Jobim. What’s the story behind that one?

G: Black Orpheus is a film that I enjoy quite a bit. Stunning music and visuals, I love the intersection of the greek tragedy of Orpheus and Eurydice in the setting of Carnival. It’s not a concept I’d seen before and it’s quite interesting to see how that was interpreted in 1959, as many black actors in starring roles in a film in North America would be unheard of at the time. It also touches on elements of Candomblé, which has very similar elements to Santería. There are touches of bossa nova throughout the project; the saudade invokes a melancholy that goes with the tone of the album, and in a way is a neighboring diaspora that has many similarities to Cuba; there is a large black population, but only white Brazilians are praised and put into the spotlight. Orfeu Negro was refreshing for that reason as well. I wanted to draw those parallels to a modern setting while also keeping elements of the Greek myth intact.

AF: I love “ D.U.M.E.” It’s like a scorned lover incanting a curse, and it aches in such a gorgeous way. Is this song based on real life, a character, or a combination of the two? Do you tend to write from real life or by embodying other characters/points-of-views?

G: This is rather dark, but “D.U.M.E.” is a spell I’ve cast on an abuser of mine who froze my life for a second and that I was able to break free from. I’ve never felt such a blind, visceral hatred for someone to the point of putting so strong of a curse on them; but this person is dangerous and harmful to black women, and I bind him from hurting others the way he hurt me. There isn’t much to be done about the damage caused, but this song was a way for me to help release some of the hurt and hatred I have inside, because it felt like it truly did something. I’d like to think that it’s a spell that can be  used for anyone who feels the way that I do about someone, but only if the person is still being actively harmful. The “D.U.M.E.” candle is one of the most powerful and isn’t to be toyed with.

I often write from real life, but I like to toy with different ideas and experiences for sure. I’m working on an upcoming EP and there’s a song about a haunted phone number, for example. I rap as a more fantastical version of myself, who is able to say what they wouldn’t be able to in real life. I’m rather shy off stage and its great to tell the stories I’d like through performance.

AF: What are your thoughts on the rapidly changing/contracting Seattle music scene? What has been the most challenging about the change? Do you plan to remain here as an artist?

G: The changing of the music scene in the city has a direct correlation to the city changing as well. The city has become more corporate and I think that means they are looking for safer, more radio-friendly artists to play events, and I do still feel like parts of the city are afraid of hip-hop. Seattle drains me as a city. People are (usually) extremely kind to me when I perform, but there’s still a veneer of strange, unwarranted judgement that drives many artists away from performing live. I’ve definitely gotten off of the stage and cried a few times due to the passive aggression of reactions to my performances; I know others have experienced that as well, and if it keeps happening, there won’t be many artists left.

I, like a few others, are tokenized as being the “alternative women” rapping in Seattle. There’s a rather obvious rotation that we’re included in to diversify bills, and it really makes you question whether you have talent or if you’re just filling a slot. 

Many, many artists are realizing the stagnation of the city and are leaving after a certain point. I completely understand. I’m lucky to have a wonderful audience of fellow queer folks, but many of the tech bros (as a whole, there are obvious exceptions) that attend shows are belligerent, rude, and downright people I don’t care much for performing in front of. I’ve never lived in Seattle in my life and likely never will; it’s a city that makes me wildly uncomfortable that is only going to get worse as Amazon roots deeper into the soil; but I play music there and seeing the change has been astounding.

AF: What are your goals as an artist overall?

G: My goals are to be able to make the exact music I have in mind, and to collaborate with artists that I respect and think I’d work well with. I’d like to work with multiple producers who have me in mind, I’d like to go all out with performances, and I’d like to hone my craft overall; I never want to stop learning and growing as an artist. I’d like to DJ at some point as well. Ultimately I don’t think I’ll be rich and famous and have no desire to be; I’d like to be able to take care of myself and my tía, be able to tour around the world, and to just quietly spread my sound through alternative genres and be recognized as an artist that puts a lot of work into their craft.

Follow Guayaba on Facebook for ongoing updates.

PREMIERE: Renee Holiday Covers Patti Smith’s “People Have The Power”

Patti Smith’s voice is a hammer striking an anvil, her songs often come across as poetry set to a tune. In the era of fake news, Smith’s work has come into the spotlight: she has been nominated for induction into The Songwriters Hall of Fame, performed at Pathway To Paris (a nonprofit trying to bring awareness of climate change), and even called President Trump an “uneducated man.” Written by Smith and her late husband, Fred “Sonic” Smith, 1988’s “People Have The Power” is considered a classic protest song. The perfect song to dust off in the melee that is 2019.

Seattle’s own Renee Holiday teamed up with Nigel Harrison (of Blondie) for a true cover of Smith’s “People Have The Power.” True in the sense that it uses the material in a fresh, subversive way. Patti Smith’s original recording is raw rock n’ roll, while Holiday manages to infuse hope into every note. From the first “I was dreaming,” Holiday’s voice takes the form of a warm trickle of water: smooth, comforting, confidant in its path. While Patti commanded the audience to remember their power, Renee gives a gentle push. And in a world on fire, we could all use a little gentle ribbing.

Watch AudioFemme’s exclusive premiere of “People Have The Power” and read our interview with Renee Holiday below:

AF: Tell us about your childhood. When did you first take an interest in music and how did that lead you to the work you create today?

RH: I grew up in a very musical household so it’s no surprise that I took an interest in singing at a very early age. My family always tells me cute stories of me forcing them to be my audience for at-home concerts and performances. I also clearly remember watching a performance of Sade when I was around the age of 5 or 6, and knowing right away that I wanted to be a like her. I wanted to float around stage while serenading whoever would listen, so that’s what I did!

AF: You’re a Seattle native – what’s the music scene there like nowadays?

RH: The scene in Seattle is pretty eclectic. There’s definitely something for everyone!

AF: You’ve recently changed your stage name from Shaprece to Renee Holiday. What was the catalyst for this change?

RH: I had the idea to change my name years ago but the timing felt right, now. The break from performance that I took allowed time for me to meditate on the idea and when I started working with this new team and label, it felt like the right time to make that decision.

AF: Will the music be altered as well?

RH: The music is still very true to my voice and story but the production and direction has evolved.

AF: Your live performance has an incredible amount of tension to it (we were enthralled with your Sofar performance). How do you ready yourself for performance? Do you have any rituals before a show?

RH: No particular rituals but I do have a tendency to become very quiet and reserved right before a set. I think it’s my mind’s natural way to preserve every ounce of energy for my performance.

AF: You incorporate a variety of instruments into your live performances. When you’re writing songs, do you normally think: “Ok, and here’s a brass section” or “I want a harp to back me up on this one,” or is it something that comes in later during production?

RH: Production is always a collaboration of sorts between myself and my producer(s). Sometimes the producer will place unusual instruments to the production and I’m like woooow, I never would have thought of putting a banjo on this! Sometimes I phantom hear instruments while the track is being made, and suggest adding whatever that may be. It really all depends on the mood and the energy of the song.

AF: How did this “People Have The Power” cover come about?

RH: I was catching a flight to New York for a vocal session, and I met a very eccentric man by the name of Roger Greenwalt. He was dancing around the back of the plane with noise cancelling headphones and I just knew we would get along! I ended up moving seats next to him for the remainder of the flight, and we quickly found that we both have grand ideas when it comes to creating music. Next thing I know, he invited me to sing on a compilation album for his label Petaluma Records (which is now my label home). He explained to me that the compilation was a collection of protest songs and of course, I was immediately interested. When I showed up to his studio later in the week, Nigel Harrison of Blondie was there working on the track as well. I felt so honored that they both trusted me to carry the power of this song.

AF: Have you always been a Patti Smith fan?

RH: Actually, I didn’t realize how much of a fan I was until I was asked to perform the cover. I had so many jaw dropping a-ha moments once I traveled down the Patti Smith rabbit hole. She’s a legend!

AF: What was it like working with Nigel Harrison?

RH: He is so kind, and such an encouraging person to work with! He complimented me on my professionalism, ability to learn a song on the spot, and perform it with confidence. I was majorly flattered and appreciative to get that sort of feedback from Rock Royalty. He has written some majorly ICONIC songs that I absolutely love so needless to say, I was honored to be working with both Nigel and Roger!

AF: If you did an album of covers as Renee Holiday, what would be your top tracks?

RH: I can’t pinpoint exact tracks because I have so many favorites but I can say that there would definitely be some Amy Winehouse, Bjork, Sade, Minnie Riperton, Stevie Wonder, Radiohead, Bill Withers, Jazmin Sullivan…

AF: Is a Renee Holiday album in the works?

RH: Definitely. Stay tuned!

AF: When and where can we see you live?

RH: If you happen to be in Seattle between November 7th and December 1st, you can catch me at the Can Can Culinary Cabaret in historic Pike Place market for my residency, “Beautiful.” The show’s concept is based on life transformation and rebirth which is definitely something that we can all relate to. I’m excited to showcase the transition from Shaprece to Renee Holiday through song, stunning visuals, and an incredible dance team!

A portion of “People Have The Power” proceeds will go to headcount.org.

PLAYING SEATTLE: Katie Kuffel Premieres Video for Recovery Anthem “Jelly Donut”

In 2013, Seattle musician Katie Kuffel broke out as a fierce-yet-tender songwriter, with artful piano skills and a husky, blues-imbued voice. She’s also made a name for herself as a community builder, organizing the Fremont Abbey Sessions in 2016—a community-driven music and video project—and striving to collaborate with and raise up local talent.

Kuffel is also a survivor. When the singer-songwriter was freshman in college, she was brutally raped and almost lost her life. With this new song and video, “Jelly Donut,” premiered with Audiofemme, Kuffel takes the time to look at her recovery in the big picture.

On “Jelly Donut,” Kuffel’s piano line repeats like the chime of a rusty church bell, and the lyrics “I don’t think about you,” also come up several times. This captures the “two steps forward, one step back” nature of her recovery, as she puts it, and the determination necessary for so many assault survivors to keep going. The video adds to this tone—a crew of roller derby skaters, the Tilted Thunder Rail Birds, glide around a dimly lit track. There are collisions and straightaways, smiles and grimaces. It’s an artful metaphor.

“I’ve been back to square one many times. That doesn’t mean I’ve failed. It means it’s a battle I’ve won before, and can win again,” she said.

Along with premiering this video, Audiofemme talked with the singer-songwriter about her recovery, why she cares about community, and how she sees Seattle’s musicians being sorely overlooked.

AF: Tell me a bit about your upbringing in Seattle — and what got you into Seattle music? Did you go see shows? How were you involved at a young age? Who/what did you listen to most in your early years?

KK: I had a pretty wonderful time growing up in the PNW. I was actually born and raised just outside of Seattle on Bainbridge Island. Small town vibe, very musically supportive family, and in a lot of ways fortunate in that I was encouraged to pursue music from an early age. I started cello when I was 8, played marimbas through middle school and high school, and also learned piano in that time as well. Music was a much needed sanctuary for me during my teen years, as it is for many.

I would often go to Seattle to see big shows at The Paramount (I recall seeing Regina Spektor, Sufjan Stevens, and Vienna Teng being among my favorites), or travel to eastern Washington to see musicians and attend festivals at The Gorge.

AF: You say it yourself—your music is a combo of a lot of different genres, and unlike anything most of us have heard before. Do you work to achieve this sound, or is it your natural output?

KK: It’d be much simpler for me I think, if I came at songwriting with any real goal in mind. I write what feels right for me, and try to be as genuine as I can. Music is my chance to be transparent, so it’s definitely something that just naturally flows from me, and because I embrace my oddity and I love change, that’s directly reflected in my output.

I have a pretty broad range of tastes as far as what I consume goes, and I love playing with others. I’ll often bring the bones of a song to my band, like lyrics and structure, then we workshop it together until it feels good to play. We all have different backgrounds, tastes, and I think it gets all mixed together to make something that I never could have arrived to on my own. We finalize songs by just performing them a ton. So in a way, our audiences also have a part to play in how it sounds in the end.

AF: Is music your full-time gig?

KK: I’m firmly in this weird, self-employed, gig economy that many twenty-somethings find themselves in. Music makes up the biggest part of my income, but I also do design work, I paint murals, illustrate, and will take random jobs as they come. Before this I was working an 8 to 5 office job for over a year, and I think it was the final push I needed to attempt being fully self-employed. I wasn’t fulfilled, I had no energy, I was running on fumes and feeling like I had no room to create. Happy to say it’s been over a year since then and I still have a roof over my head.

AF: What’s your songwriting process like? What sort of mantras do you have to help keep yourself on track creatively?

KK: It totally depends on the song. I’m definitely a lyrics-focused artist, so words are usually what I’m basing my music around. I’ve also started trying to write songs quickly, as a kind of exercise. Like… a few hours before a show quickly. It makes me less afraid of experimenting, and I think allows me to share a genuinely unique moment with my audience. I really don’t have a concrete process, but I do have some principals I like to create by.
Not everything is going to be good. But sometimes you have to unclog the drain to get started on the next thing.
No one else can create what you create. That’s both humbling and powerful. Own it.
Get out of your own way. And by this I mean, don’t put limits on the kind of songs you think you should write. In the creative arena you are all-powerful.
Not every song is meant to be shared. That’s okay.

AF: You are a very community-focused artist. Why is community important to you, and in particular, what are your goals for Seattle’s music community?

KK: I’m very thankful to the people in my life who support me, and I think I’m lucky to have landed in such a welcoming music community. Seattle’s scene is special, I believe, and people look after each other here. I think it doesn’t make sense to be competitive in music. I want to see others be successful, I want to play with people, I want to lift others up where I can, because it’s one of the few ways I know to help make the world a little more palatable. I believe music is a conduit for sharing our experiences, sharing space, and understanding that we are not alone.

AF: Many Seattle musicians are leaving the area because of cost of living and other struggles amidst the tech boom. What are your views on that? Why/how do you remain here?

KK: Seattle is choking out its creative community. It’s true, a lot of us are moving outwards, to Tacoma, or Olympia, or to new states all together. If housing costs aren’t addressed soon, if the continued indifference for protecting diverse communities isn’t addressed and the fight against Seattle’s extreme gentrification isn’t won, Seattle will lose all of its soul. I really believe this. It shouldn’t be our job to explain to a city why we matter. Why art matters. Why it is not just for your passive consumption, but a part of our collective cultural identity. Seattle used to be a city proud of its rich history in jazz and grunge, and now it feels like a lot of the tech community likes the idea of living in a “cool” city, but doesn’t want to put their money where their mouth is by going to local shows, supporting art programs, and rethinking Seattle’s archaic tax structures to serve the larger populace.

I stay because for now I can afford to. For now there are enough genuinely supportive folks and musicians here to let me forget about the overarching problems Seattle’s growth is causing. I also recognize as a white, cis woman, a lot of these issues won’t effect me as drastically as it does other minorities. This problem doesn’t just effect musicians. It effects families, it effects small business, it effects Seattle’s future. I wish I had an answer.

AF: Tell me about this new song, “Jelly Donut.” It is about recovering from sexual trauma. Will you share a bit about that context? Why did you decide to share your story?

KK: I think sharing my story played a large part in my recovery. When I was a freshman in college (before I eventually dropped out due to PTSD-related issues) I was violently raped, and nearly lost my life. Once from the incident, and once from being suicidal. It’s not something you get over, but it is something you learn to live with. Each story of rape, or recovery from sexual trauma, or abuse, is different. So know anything I say is based entirely on my own experiences, and shouldn’t be taken as a blanket statement for every survivor.

“Jelly Donut” was a song I wrote after I was able to have relationships again, after I’d gone to therapy for years, after I’d taken anti depressants, and had a toolbox of healthy coping mechanisms at my disposal. I wanted to highlight, yes that I’m alive and I’ve made it, but also memorialize in a way all of the downswings inherent in recovery. Flashbacks are common and unpredictable. Manic episodes don’t wait for a convenient time. Your brain is scarred, and sometimes those scars will flare up. In recovery I’ve lost my footing so many times, but I find my strength in knowing that those times will pass, that I have and I will be able to live to see another day, and find happiness and worth, and love. I will probably continue to stumble for the rest of my life. Maybe in moments few and far between, but that’s okay.

AF: You talk about the “cyclical nature” of recovery. What does that mean to you? How did you represent that musically on “Jelly Donut”?

KK: Recovery for many things is a two steps forward, one step back kind of deal. Or sometimes you have to start all over again. There’s a common misconception that recovery is a straight line, a linear process where the survivors gets further and further away from the incident, so they must be getting better and better in equal measure. This is false and dangerous thinking, and by refusing to acknowledge that healing is repeating the same behaviors, and understanding how your brain works, and failing then finding new ways to continue on with your life, we run the risk of punishing ourselves for an incident that was outside of our control. I’ve been back to square one many times. That doesn’t mean I’ve failed. It means it’s a battle I’ve won before, and can win again.

Musically, I love the repetition of the piano lick. It reminds me of when a record is scratched, and repeats the same line again and again. The beginning and ending also feature the same bell sound. I wanted the music to begin and end at the same place. I also repeat a lot of words over and over again in this song. Phrases like “I don’t think about you” or “I can say a lot of pretty words” and “Do you even know my name” also have that same scratched record quality. I wanted it to feel like I was struggling to even move on in the song.

AF: Tell me about the personnel on the track— where’s it recorded and who’s playing on it?

KK: So I recorded this with Johnny Bregar over at Brickyard Studios in my hometown of Bainbridge Island one sunny afternoon. It was then mixed and mastered by my two close friends Cody Kilpatrick and Hunter Rath. These three people are some of the most genuine, sensitive souls I’ve met and have had the pleasure to work with. I felt I could trust them all with a song that’s this personal.

I sang and played keys. But Jon Robinson plays bass on this track, and Jordan Wiegert plays drums. They’re part of my trio and we’ve played together for over two years. I wanted to record this song with familiar folks, friends, and peers. It was a cathartic process for me, and their support was important for the success of the track.

Kuffel and her bandmates.

AF: Will “Jelly Donut” be part of a forthcoming album? If so, can we expect that to drop shortly?

KK: “Jelly Donut” is actually a one-off. It’s a song I needed to get out into the world. It felt strong enough to stand on it’s own, so no, there will be no new CD featuring this track. That does not mean there won’t be a new CD come 2020 however.

AF: What’s the future look like for Katie Kuffel? What are some goals you have for your music career?

KK: Music has always taken me to places I never expected to be. My goals are kind of loose. I don’t really want to be a famous person. I know I would make music even if no one would hear it. As long as I’m allowed to keep growing, as long as my music feels true and genuine to who I am, then I will be proud of it. Then I will trust that it will reach the people who need to hear it. Monetarily, I really just want my music to be able to support itself. To allow me to afford to keep making it. To allow me to bring it to people around the world.

Follow Katie Kuffel on Facebook for ongoing updates.

PLAYING SEATTLE: PAMPA Bridges Cultures on La Contumacia

To Moon Baillie, an immigrant from Buenos Aires and the lead singer and songwriter of Seattle-band PAMPA, to be an expat is to “look at yourself, where you come from, understand it, digest it, and express it” in order to add to your new home. For Baillie, writing songs for PAMPA has been a vehicle of self-exploration, and the reason PAMPA’s sound on the whole is a “cultural salad,” Baillie said.

It’s a mighty good “salad”—PAMPA, which first formed in 2017, seamlessly combines Seattle’s low-fi melancholy with the ’70s rock storytelling of Neil Young and the exuberance and bilingualism of Latin music.

PAMPA’s sophomore album, La Contumacia, which drops on October 11th, is a good example. La Contumacia means “contempt” or “stubbornness” in Spanish—and as he traverses a psych-rock desert, rich with mirage-like cymbal kicks and harmonizing guitars—a battle inside Baillie boils over. Throughout the new release, Baillie’s voice cries out in English and Spanish, accented with bursts of trumpet and accordion, while jangling guitar harkens back to classic American pop/rock melodies.  La Contumacia is the sonic portrait of an Latin immigrant in Trump’s America simmering in toil and triumph as he straddles two cultures.

The release show for the new album will be at the Sunset Tavern on October 12, at 9 p.m. Before the show, read about the making of PAMPA’s  La Contumacia, how the members met at Seattle music store Trading Musician, and Baillie’s desire to cultivate more appreciation for Latin culture in America.

AF: How did PAMPA meet? What made you and the other members want to collaborate musically?

MB: Steve Lykken (drums) and myself are the original members. We met while working at The Trading Musician. I remember he was wearing a trucker hat with the old Motown label that is on the vinyl, and I knew he would understand. Kerrick Olson came through the Quiet Ones connection. During our rotating cast of bass players, John Totten took the role for a bit, and we brought him on board. We have a great back and forth interaction as singers and guitar players that continues to grow. I met Nate Rogers at The Trading Musician too, and loved him right away. His perspective on harmony as a keyboard player has added an enormous amount of arrangements to our music. He joined the band weeks before recording In the Flatlands so that is how good our chemistry is. He joined a year after Kerrick. John Carlson was the bass player on In the Flatlands but left for school after tracking La Contumacia. I have known John for a long time, and his minimal, and a tad punk approach to bass playing, was an element we were looking for in the early days; that punk-folk dynamic. An example would be “Where Do We Go Now” from the first record. Jack Peters from Loose Wing has joined the band as a permanent member this last summer. I met him when he was playing bass for Mindie Lind, and really like his awareness. He serves the song very well. I still enjoy said awareness a lot.

AF: Why did you choose the name Pampa? What’s it mean?

MB: When I lived in NYC, I use to spend evenings at the National Museum of the American Indian. There I learned that “Manhattan” comes from the Leni Lenape word, the indigenous people of the Northeastern Woodlands, “Manahatta,” meaning “land of many trees.” I was intrigued by this, and decided to look for an Argentine equivalent. “Pampa” means “plains, or flatlands” in Quechua, an indigenous language derived from the Peruvian Andes.

AF: Moon, you’re from Buenos Aires and still living there part-time correct? Tell me about living there, and in Seattle, and how that contributes to your creative process?

MB: I am indeed a Porteño. I do not live part-time there, but I’ve taken five, six month-long trips to it. I believe I became more of an Argentine living in the states, merely because of the perspective on the cultural media eclipse that is the image other cultures have of America. Buenos Aires is an amazing city. Unpredictable, and exciting. Like a book, you can’t wait to turn to the next page. Constantly. A mother of cultures that is different every time I go, and it constantly brews.

Seattle is my home. If the world is mad, I can smell the ocean, or get lost in the woods. Be in a moody day, and relate to it. Here the weather is emotional, and the people harmonious. I dig the PNW a lot. I respect its peace from which I never cease to learn. I think it all transpires into our music. Our strength is that we are a balanced mix band. Even our songs in Spanish, local folks can relate to the music, opening other channels. I write through Osmosis, and I am from here now. I got here in 1997.

AF: Why did you first come to Seattle, and decide to make music here? What are your thoughts on the Seattle arts scene, as compared to Buenos Aires and other places you’ve experienced? 

MB: I came to Seattle through Cornish College of the Arts, so my community was strong. I was enveloped by progressive views that challenged, and changed my concepts. I feel it was good to leave Buenos Aires because I was able to be more independent, and become myself here. I especially sense that now that I am older. I was raised in Buenos Aires, but I am still learning from Seattle. I lived in NYC for two years, and I came back because I felt more at home with the Seattle community.

AF: I’m really interested about how heritage plays into Pampa’s sound. Are there particular musical tropes or themes from Latin culture that you like to meld with your melancholy Seattle indie sound?

MB: I think there is a strong bluegrass and folk heritage in the PNW. There is a song in the new record, and is currently out in Spotify, named “Maniobrando” that is a great example of how we write. Steve wanted to play with different rhythms, and we were listening to Brazilian batucadas, and Uruguayan candombe. I was thinking about the definition of folk fusion, and got it down to the suspensions on Neil Young’s intro chords to “Old Man.” The melody was inspired by a famous tango by Carlos Gardel named “Por una cabeza.” Leilani Polk from The Stranger said about the song “… darkly-urgent Crazy Horse-vibing rock.” All these create a cultural salad that is very PAMPA.

AF: By the same token, in what ways does this album—and Pampa’s sound in general—belong to Seattle?

MB: This record has matured in sound. It is more inclusive, yet in a similar direction, and continuing where the previous record is going. To me, to be an American, I gotta be an Argentine. Being an immigrant, rather than trying to fit, is adding to the whole. To do this, you have to look at yourself, where you come from, understand it, digest it, and express it. It’s a very Seattle thing to be progressive. In the time that I have lived here I have seen this place grow non-stop. PAMPA is a product, or a result of that growth. In the last couple of years there has been a strong surge of unique Latino pop culture in the States. Strong like never before. We feel very identified with this circumstance, because we are a blend of cultures. All PAMPA members but me, are originally from here.

AF: La Contumacia is your sophomore release. Tell me a bit about the process of making the album, and how it builds on your debut full-length, In the Flatlands?

MB: The process of La Contumacia was more of a group writing than the first one. I still write the songs, but we truly started expanding harmonies and adding arrangements. On the first record, particularly the first side, it sounded a bit more one dimensional. On the second side you get hints of where we are going.

The other strong element of this record is all the guest musicians. We discussed arrangements, but ended up working with the musicians in the studio. A lot of the ideas you hear on the record where suggested by them, and make some of my favorite moments.

We starting tracking the band live to tape with Johnny Goss, who recorded La Luz and Lonesome Shack among others, at Dandelion Gold late November 2017. Then I went on a five month trip to South America. The second set of sessions took place around May of 2018 with all the guest musicians. The sessions were loose, and the need dictated the direction, rather than a model. Working with Johnny is always productive, a learning experience, and a pleasure.

AF: What goals did you have for the album going in? What was the most challenging part of making this album?

MB: We sensed a need to step it up. We are constantly growing, and we felt the need to mature. It all happened naturally, though. The only goal we set out to achieve was to record, and put out a record. We didn’t even think about us liking it or not, because we already believed in the songs. We did set out to work more on arrangements, and guest musicians. We explored musician options, and worked on it quite extensively.

I’m going to be honest: the most challenging thing about putting out an album to me, is the expectation, and the financial push. We invest a lot of ourselves into sharing something we strongly believe in, and we are extremely proud of how we stepped up to the challenge. Truly, bands that endure the business side of things, and continue, are the ones that last.

AF: The press materials for this album said: “each of the songs… focused on pinpointing a specific moment and feeling of American experience.” How did writing these songs help better clarify your “American experience”? When you began writing these songs, what were some of the most pressing questions about your identity you wished to answer?

MB: When I first started the process of “living in America” I dived deeply into American culture. My English is pretty good, so I immersed myself into the mechanics of American English to the point of having a bit of a hard time speaking Spanish, because I didn’t use it. It was deeply disturbing to me. I realized then that when you become a citizen of the USA you are expected to become an “American.” I needed to get in touch with my roots again. Because of this cultural challenge I explored Argentine culture like never before, liberated of the blindfold that is the projected American image to the world, and with raw models I identified with, the momentum I was spun into became my American suit. I understand now that if I want to be a citizen, or a part of this North American society, I have to be an Argentine and add my grain of sand to the every day thing that is America. This is why I sing in Spanish.

AF: In the Trump era (and even before), as I’m sure you know intimately, American immigrants have been politicized and persecuted. How do you bear that weight personally and musically? Do you consider your songs to be inherently political?

MB: Being an immigrant is political. It is something new, which is always uncomfortable for conservative types. Trump is extremely offensive. I have felt the pain his attempt to humiliate Latino culture has inflicted. That’s why we named our record La Cotumacia. We wanted a title in Spanish, and the meaning of the word, contumacy, I believe is part of immigration.

AF: What are your biggest hopes for La Contumacia? What do you hope people take away from it? 

MB: I hope people listen to it. I hope people become more aware of us. I hope it helps us play more shows, tour more towns, keep the ball rolling. My one and true hope since being a teenager though, is to connect with people. I hope people look at Latino culture as a local thing, rather than a foreign culture. I hope they are captured by our tunes, and transcend passports in this melting pot that is where we live.

AF: Oct 12 is your release show for the new album, but are you touring with La Contumacia? If so, please include tour dates.

MB: We will be playing shows locally and around Seattle. We are playing November 13th at the Conor Byrne with Beautiful Dudes and John Calvin Abney from Mamma Bird records, and November 27th at the Sunset for the Double or Muffins record release. After the holidays we plan on touring down south on the West Coast all the way down to L.A. We have been invited to a few festivals in Mexico around late April, and we are waiting on SXSW’s response. My brother plays in El Kuelgue in Argentina, and we have invitations extended in Uruguay, Brazil, and Chile. We are planning on touring South America next year hopefully.

PLAYING SEATTLE: Lemolo Premieres “South of Sound” Single Ahead of New LP

Photo by Jacquilyn Shumate

As much as the Seattle sound is about notions of counterculture and nonconformity, the ever-present majesty of the area’s natural surroundings is embedded within it as well, offering a sense of cohesion among what is otherwise a city of musical eclecticism. The melancholy gray skies, majestic evergreen forests, and churning waters of the Puget Sound all have their way with the music made in this area. Lemolo—vocalist and multi-instrumentalist Megan Grandall—is a perfect example of this phenomenon.

Lemolo’s forthcoming release, Swansea, out Oct. 11, is a little pop/rock, a little ambient electronic, a little folk singer-songwriter. Grandall draws many different musical influences that, on their own, are seemingly disconnected from place. But, when knitted together organically by the demands of her lyrical inspirations—her turbulent inner-world and the lush environment of Grandall’s hometown of Poulsbo, WA—there’s a through-line that wasn’t there before. Swansea’s eleven original roiling soundscapes—echo-y, ambient canvases kissed with Grandall’s gentle vocals—are magnificent, pensive and intoxicating. It’s an album that can only be from the Pacific Northwest.

Lemolo gave Audiofemme an exclusive premiere of the single “South of Sound,” below, discussed her collaboration with legendary Seattle-area producer Nathan Yaccino (who’s worked with Seattle music royalty like Soundgarden), and explained the difficult and miraculous experiences that birthed her third tender and triumphant full-length, Swansea.

 

AF: Is this single “South of Sound” a tribute to your South Seattle home? Or, does it have another meaning? How was the song born?

MG: The song is about the ending of an unhealthy relationship, and knowing it was unhealthy before it was over. When I’m singing that “we’re headed south of sound”, it’s a play on words to mean that my partner and I were heading in a bad direction where things are no longer “sound” or safe. But I also like how the song incorporates water imagery which is a slight homage to the Puget Sound where I live. 

AF: Tell me about your childhood, and how you were first exposed to music. How many instruments do you play? Are you self-taught?

MG: I grew up loving music, and started playing the piano when I was 3 years old. I took piano lessons throughout my childhood, and then taught myself how to play guitar and write songs in high school. Music and songwriting has always been an important outlet for me and I’m so grateful I found it at a young age. 

AF: What are some staples of your songwriting style, in your eyes?

MG: A common theme in my music is that all of my songs are very personal accounts of my own life and experiences. I’ve used songwriting as a tool to help me find healing in my own life and process my emotions. I’ve also heard people tell me that they can tell that I’m from the Pacific Northwest when they listen to my music. The landscape where I live is filled with natural beauty – I named my band after Lemolo Shore Drive in the small town where I’m from and where I live now – Poulsbo. It is sandwiched between the Puget Sound and the Olympic National Forest. And I think the natural world around me definitely inspires the mood of my music. 

AF: When you formed Lemolo in 2009, what would you say your artistic mission was? Has it morphed over the years?

MG: My mission has always been to make music for as long as it brings me joy and healing. Lucky for me it is still the case, which is what motivates me each day as an independent artist. 

AF: How does Seattle—specifically its landscape, music history, even its tech-y present—inform your music? 

MG: Being a part of the Seattle music community has been a really positive experience, and I’ve found that musicians here are very supportive and encouraging rather than competitive. There is also a wonderful community of people who support local and independent art, which I am grateful for every day. I am a huge supporter of KEXP 90.3 FM as well, and they have played a big role in me being able to share my music with people around the world and have a larger platform. And as I mentioned, the natural beauty of the Pacific Northwest is a continual source of inspiration for me.  

AF: Your forthcoming album, Swansea, is due to drop Oct. 11. Why did you decide to call it that?

MG: I learned of the word Swansea when I received an online order for one of my records from a fan living in Swansea, Wales about five years ago. (I serve as my own record label, so I handle my own shipping and order processing which has been a wonderful way to meet my fans!) When I read the word it immediately struck me, and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It conjured up a lot of imagery for me, and I kept it in the back of my mind while I was writing the songs for this record. As a songwriter, I’m always keeping track of words that intrigue and inspire me. I created a whole concept of what Swansea means to me in relation to this record.

AF: Tell me about that concept. I see the definition of “Swansea” quoted in your press release:  “The vast place we find ourselves in when we lose someone. We are alone for the first time in what feels like forever, almost as if we are out to sea in our own solitude. But it is not necessarily a sad place. It is where we find strength in remembering how to stand on our own two feet.” Is this feeling coming from an autobiographical place, post-loss?

MG: Yes. This whole album is themed around loss of various forms that I have experienced in the recent past. The songs are about a combination of different types of loss, from the loss of love, the ending of relationships and friendships, and the loss of a friend due to suicide. Writing this album was very therapeutic for me, and was a good reminder that I can be okay on my own. 

AF: Tell me about the personnel on the album, especially the string players who give it a really special, ethereal sound. You worked with Nathan Yaccino to track this record. What sort of insights did he give you?

MG: I worked in close collaboration with producer Nathan to create the sound of this record. I brought the finished songs to him, but we then spent a lot of time working together on just pre-production, tweaking the songs and experimenting with layers and structures before we even started recording. And once it came time to record I was honored to work with him on drums, percussion, vibraphone, and various other layers throughout the record. He’s a very talented multi-instrumentalist. We also worked with Alex Guy (of Led to Sea) who arranged and performed the strings on four of the songs (“Seventeen,” “South of Sound,” “Swansea,” and “Running Mate”), Maria Scherer Wilson on cello, and Jon Karschney on french horn. And I had the pleasure of performing vocals, keys, guitar, and synth bass, and various other additional layers as well. 

AF: What does the future hold for Lemolo?

MG: I love to write songs and make melodies, and I have so many more new songs than I’m able to keep up with. So it is my dream that I am able to continue to record and share them, for as long as it continues to bring me joy. And I’m hoping that my new album is able to connect with people and move them in some way as well. 

AF: Will you tour with Swansea? 

MG: Yes! We leave for tour today (Thursday)! And I’m dreaming about touring the east coast with this new record too. Hopefully in 2020!

Follow Lemolo on Facebook for more updates, and check her out on one of the tour dates below.

9/19 – Bellingham, WA @ Wild Buffalo* | Tickets
9/20 – Mission, B.C. @ Copper Hall^ | Tickets
9/22 – Spokane, WA @ Lucky You Lounge* | Tickets
9/24 – Boise, ID @ Neurolux* | Tickets
9/26 – Salt Lake City, UT @ The State Room* | Tickets
9/27 – Denver, CO @ Bluebird Theater* | Tickets
9/28 – Fort Collins, CO @ Washington’s* | Tickets
9/30 – Kansas City, MO @ recordBar* | Tickets
10/1 – Minneapolis, MN @ Fine Line Music Cafe* | Tickets
10/2 – Milwaukee, WI @ Colectivo Coffee* | Tickets
10/4 – Chicago, IL @ Lincoln Hall* | Tickets
10/5 – Indianapolis, IN @ The Hi-Fi* | Tickets
10/6 – Columbus, OH @ A&R Music Bar* | Tickets
10/12 – Seattle, WA @ St. Mark’s Cathedral with Special String Ensemble | Tickets
10/18 – San Francisco, CA @ Neck of the Woods | Tickets
10/19 – Los Angeles, CA @ Hotel Cafe (9-10 PM) | Tickets
11/2 – Bellingham, WA @ Wild Buffalo+ | Tickets
11/16 – Portland, OR @ Mississippi Studios+ | Tickets

*with Noah Gundersen 
^with Andrew Judah
+with Kuinka

 

PREMIERE: Nora Rothman “dear / david”

In the era of #MeToo, a variety of voices have risen up to tell their stories of abuse. Seattle-based singer-songwriter Nora Rothman featured 26 womxn from around the world in the new video for her single “dear / david.” The image of each womxn speaking into their phone, leaving a visual message to their abuser, is haunting in its unwavering directness and echos the cool, calm protest that is the song itself.

“brandy glass / hotel key / dear josh / what did you see in me / ‘cause of you I’m marching in the streets / ‘cause of you I’m yelling I believe / dear josh / god knows you forgot,” Rothman sings softly, her voice creating a slow drip to match the steady drumbeat. The song is comprised of two letters to two separate men and was inspired by a conversation with a close friend of Rothman’s. “dear / david” pulsates, burns with a sensuality that feels brazen against lyrics charged with fear, anger, and rebellion. It challenges the listener with its eroticism, a bitter and sweet pill all at once.

Watch Audiofemme’s exclusive premiere of Nora Rothman’s “dear / david” below:

AF: Tell us about “dear / david.” What was the genesis of this song?

NR: I have a very close friend who once told me the story of how she wrote a letter to her assaulter and then burned it. In the middle of Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony, my producer/collaborator Kate Ellwanger sent me a track with the hook “I’m not gonna hide / can’t keep me in line / speak what’s on my mind.” It hit me hard. I wrote the rest of the song inspired by my friend… it took me like an hour. It is two letters in the form of lyrics: one to an actor named David and one to a label head named Josh. I had more, but they wouldn’t fit into a two-verse song.

AF: It’s a difficult task, taking a serious subject and making it not only digestible, but pleasant to the ear. How do you find that balance in your work?

NR: I’ve written a lot of rage-filled feminist songs that haven’t seen the light of day. I think it’s important to have those in the world, but I also believe with my own music that it’s particularly honest to balance heavy messages with joyful sounds. Every experience in life is nuanced, and the music reflects that. While the verses of the song detail personal trauma, the choruses essentially say “fuck you,” and that part—that part is fun. Plus, Dot [Kate Ellwanger of Unspeakable Records] is a super talented producer and it’s impossible for her to make something that isn’t a groove.

AF: Where did the idea for the video come from?

NR: I delayed doing any visuals for this song, because nothing felt right. While this story is very personal to me, the song is about more than just my story. It’s about all of our stories. With a budget of zero dollars, I reached out to a huge network of people I know—from acquaintances to best friends—to see if they might be willing to donate their time to this project. In the end, 26 womxn from all over the world joined together to make this video, from Los Angeles to Casablanca to Berlin. These are artists, entrepreneurs, activists, and professionals I’ve met throughout my life who have come together to share their part in this interwoven story. They don’t all know each other, but they’ve stood up for each other these past two years. That’s what this project is all about. I edited their efforts together, and voila! The video was born.

AF: You’re selling “speak what’s on my mind” enamel pins with the video. 100% of the proceeds will go to RAINN. Can you tell us about the organization and why you wanted to partner with them?

NR: RAINN is the largest anti-sexual violence organization in the country. They’ve been operating for 25 years, supporting survivors with information, a hotline, research, and policy initiatives. They are one of the most admirable advocates for survivors in the US. I always try to tie feeling to action and triple my impact. If this video moves you in any way, please join our campaign: buy some pins (designed by the fabulous Iris Gottlieb) and all the money will go to RAINN.

AF: At times, your music reminds me of a stripped down Fiona Apple. Who would you say your musical influences are?

NR: Thank you! The jazz greats, certainly, influence my songwriting: Sarah Vaughan, Nancy Wilson, Oscar Peterson. Then, sorry I’m not sorry, Joni Mitchell is my absolute number one queen of queens. Out of more contemporary artists, Frank Ocean, Bon Iver, and The Staves are in my ears when I compose.

AF: How does jazz influence the music you currently make?

NR: Jazz is the best teacher. Listening to great improvisers taught me to be adventurous in my songwriting. In all the music I write, I usually just riff over some chords to find the melody that fits the best; that is a total jazz technique. Plus, listening to jazz is humbling. Those musicians are insane.

AF: If you could tour with any current musical artist or band, who would you go on the road with?

NR: Love this question. Definitely Bon Iver… so I could watch the show… and seep up some magic.

AF: What do you want an audience to take away from a Nora Rothman performance?

NR: Honestly I just want people to have some fun and feel something. If you walk away with that, my mission is accomplished. Come find me at Conor Byrne in Seattle on September 19th and let’s see if I can make it happen for ya.

Nora Rothman’s latest EP Nothing New is out now via Unspeakable Records. 

PLAYING SEATTLE: SassyBlack Returns With Latest Solo LP Ancient Mahogany Gold

SassyBlack, a.k.a. Catherine Harris-White, has spent years making lunar-inflected R&B and sending Seattle audiences on a funky galactic journey—both as a member several Seattle-based groups, like rap duo THEESatisfaction, and now as a formidably innovative and prolific solo artist. With a production vibe reminiscent of Roy Ayers and Pharrell, and an expressive vocal style that recalls jazz great Ella Fitzgerald and neo-soul legend Erykah Badu, SassyBlack’s  music transcends era and defies linear notions of time.

With fifteen releases since 2015, sixteen counting her forthcoming full-length solo album Ancient Mahogany Gold, out September 13th, Sassy is a master of the slow simmer. Ancient Mahogany Gold is a fresh 11 tracks—the optimum length for Sassy to lyrically explore the many dimensions of pain and love, while building her jazz-tinged melodic motifs and nimble, entrancing soundscapes to their climax.

SassyBlack chatted with Audiofemme about the details of the new full-length, her complicated Seattle roots, and about self-worth in song.

AF: What got you into music? Was there a particular artist or person in your life that encouraged you to listen, or perform?

I have always been very into music and performing. I come from a household where there was always music playing and typically a lot of dancing/relaxing/planning/studying to music. Music has been a special space where I can heal and just be. No judgement. I can’t tell who the first artist I wanted to be like was but right now, off the top of my head I can say Michael Jackson, Brandy, Miles Davis, Morris Day and Chaka Khan have played big parts in my life. So many musicians and artists have impacted me that I could write a series of books about it.

AF: Where in Seattle did you grow up? How does Seattle serve as a context to your music? An inspiration? A boundary?

I grew up in Hawaii until I moved to Seattle in ‘97. In Seattle I lived near the University of Washington which was always moving and changing as the school year would start and let out. In terms of inspiration & boundaries, I don’t know. Seattle is special to me. It’s what I have known and although I have seen some of the world in my travels, no place feels like Seattle – it’s my sweet spot.

AF: In what way has the Seattle scene served you and lifted you as a musician? In what ways has it failed you, or introduced challenges?

Being from Seattle and having parents from New York makes me different in a way that Seattleites could smell it on me. I act differently, make differently, love differently. I am different. I’m from space. I often call myself a woman of the world and Universe for that reason. The music scene is like any other scene or community I’ve experienced in the world. It can be open and freeing and accepting or hate you, ignore you, think you are undeserving or not known what you are or what to make of you so kind of hands off until it’s time to make a hard fast decision. Seattle can see me for what it has the capacity to and that sight fluctuates so I try not to rely on it for anything that I need to survive. But I do enjoy the love.

AF: Your music is often referred to as intergalactic and space-aged. Do you consider your music to be Afrofuturist? If so, how and why are you in conversation with this movement? 

I deem my music psychedelic soul and hologram funk. It feels right for the time being. I’ve been called an Afrofurutist before, but honestly I am a Black woman and just by being I live in the future. I’ll leave that at that for now. My music speaks to it loudly and I find more clearly than I can phrase right now. Another book to be written.

AF: What were the biggest lessons you learned from your time in THEESatisfaction, that you bring to your solo work?

I’ve been in several bands and groups and one of my biggest takeaways from all of them is that I love working alone. Collaborations are golden when shaped from positive interactions and loving intentions.

AF: Tell me about the process of making your new album, Ancient Mahogany Gold. Did it begin with a theme, a lyric, a conversation?

This album began with a thought. A thought that came about while I was making a beat. It grew over several years. Lyrics, themes, music all kind of came simultaneously. It’s hard to track because I don’t take notes of how my spirits and ancestors encourage me to express myself.

AF: Both “Depression,” and especially “Antidote,” on Ancient Mahogany Gold, seem to deal with themes of self-love. Why is this a topic that’s important to you?

This whole album is about self worth and self love and appreciation in all the ways that it comes to mind. It is in every song. I think “Antidote” and “Depression” exude those feelings more because the lyrical content, or even the titles, are more apparently speaking to what is associated with self love. This topic is life and important to everyone whether they know it or not. I just don’t think most people know the best way to approach self love in a healthy loving manner. I’m not even sure how to do it for myself but it manifests through craft, creation, conversation and song.

Follow SassyBlack on Facebook for the latest updates and check out Ancient Mahogany Gold when it arrives on planet Earth September 13th. 

PLAYING SEATTLE: Golden Idols Explore Realistic Side of Love on Uneasy EP

On “Getting My Own Place,” a new song from Seattle band Golden Idols’  Uneasy EP, lead singer Patrick Broz croons, “I need some space, and you do too/We need some time to work this whole mess through/Couples counseling or admit we’re through: I’m getting my own place.” It’s a tragically familiar refrain for most people who’ve tried coupling, sealed inside a catchy electric keyboard package. That’s what Golden Idols is going for — Uneasy is full of nostalgic songs that challenge and reinvent the “fairytale” of love, and get to the truth of its many torturous, and sometimes comical, dimensions.

The EP, recorded at Seattle’s Earwig Studio by Don Farwell is one of several releases from the band, but only their second EP. While Golden Idols’ self-titled 2015 EP excelled at glistening psych-pop with the sheen of 1950s doo-wop and early ’60s surf music, Uneasy takes the band to a more bass-driven Brit rock place, reminiscent of bands like The Smiths and Arctic Monkeys, as well as The Strokes and Jeff Lynne.

A quick-witted Broz chatted with Audiofemme about Golden Idols, which he describes as “familiar, nostalgic, and at least a little blasphemous,” and the new EP, released in June.

AF: How did this band meet? What inspired you to make music together?

PB: I started the band in 2015 with Jewel Loree (Bass, Vocals) joining shortly after, having met as many do these days, online. There were a few lineup changes in drummers and keys over the first two years, but soon Saba (Drums, Vocals) arrived, drawn from across the hall of the practice space by the sweet siren song of our early catalogue. It was almost another year before Eric (Guitar, Keys, Vocals) joined; he was a quietly unassuming coworker of Jewel’s who quickly won over the rest of the band with his swelling leads and penchant for bossa nova. We couldn’t resist.  

AF: Where does your band name come from?

PB: The name Golden Idols is drawn from a mixture of religious iconography, from the golden calf of Judaism and Christianity to the statues of Buddha and multiple holy figures of Hinduism. Add to that, the noteworthy scene from Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark and you have a name that is familiar, nostalgic, and at least a little blasphemous, which is a fitting description of the band as well.  

AF: I read in your press release that these five songs are about love—but not the fairytale depiction of it. Can you explain what other angles of love you wanted to capture and why these different angles are important to you? Do you look for these different angles/sides of love in your own lives? Do you challenge the fairytale ideas we’ve been sold?

PB: Love doesn’t really get a fair shake as it is depicted in most films and songs; in most cases, it is one dimensional at best. We hear these songs about finding “the one” and finally being complete, and frankly, it’s a little annoying. Most of us don’t have those transcendent, romantic moments. You watch a movie with a wedding scene where everything is sun dappled and the music is just right and time stops the moment your partner steps into the aisle, but what most of us actually experience is something more like, you wake up at 6am to a house full of people you didn’t intend to invite to stay, and you are probably a little hungover, or exhausted because you were too nervous to sleep, and the next four hours is packed with figuring out why the flowers are already wilting, and who ordered the vegetarian meal, and at the end of the day, when you finally get to the honeymoon suite, all you want to do is sleep for the next twelve hours.  

What we wanted to show was the more authentic side of life and how, while most of us a generally good people, we are also at least a little bit of an asshole from time to time. Most people have strung along a crush because it made them feel good, or put off a breakup because they were afraid of the confrontation, or let a relationship fall apart because they were afraid to deal with the truth, that they had trust issues from a previous relationship they hadn’t dealt with, or really just weren’t that interested even though they really, really wanted to be.  

We tell these stories, not to glorify the more ignoble facets of our personalities, but to recognize that everyone has them; there is no Prince Charming, and if there was even he would have to use the restroom, and get back acne under his armor, and occasionally wonder what his life would have been like had he never met Sleeping Beauty after they’ve just had an argument.  

As a band, we don’t only care about telling stories of love though. We are perfectly happy to point out human flaws in all forms of human interaction; including the secret sort of thrill when you think about stealing the mini soaps in hotel rooms, or lying to a friend about having other plans because your really just don’t feel like going out, or pretending to listen to someone, but really only thinking about what you want to say next. Humans are beautifully complex and flawed beings; to pretend that we should all strive for some sort of fantasy existence, we do ourselves a disservice, and miss out on a lot of the little joys in life.

AF: What do you feel like your music is in conversation with? If you could simplify it—is it interacting with a common feeling, an era, an inspirational person, a nostalgic thing?

PB: Our music is derived from two primary influences. The first is “A Modest Proposal” by Jonathan Swift.  His darkly humorous satire about the socio-economic climate at the time really struck a chord with me as a song writer (word play not intended). The second influence was from the first time I really listened to the lyrics of “Angel of the Morning” by Merrilee Rush. I grew up listening to music from the ’50s through the ’80s; what we at the time referred to as Oldies, and it all sounded so pleasant and hopeful. It wasn’t until I really paid attention to that song that I noticed how dark it was, thematically; consider a young woman negotiating a one-night stand, knowing full-well there would be no second date, willing to go through with it anyway on the simple condition that he was nice to her in the morning. How messed up is that? Or “One Fine Day” by The Chiffons; basically a hopeful statement that, after he has finished sleeping around and is ready to be a father and a husband she would be there waiting for him. Or “I Only Have Eyes For You” by The Flamingos who croon, “I don’t know if we’re in a garden, or on a crowded avenue” – honestly sir, if you are on a crowded avenue, you should probably know it; you will probably walk straight into traffic.  

To state it simply, our music is a conversation with everyone about ideas of nostalgia, and fantasy and romance and to invite our listeners to look deeper with us. Or to rephrase: I was once standing outside a very old castle or church in Nantes, France and I overheard a local remarking how he liked to take his dog there to defecate because the tourists never watched where they were walking.

AF: Do you see yourselves as a “Seattle” band? Does the punk/DIY ethos move you and the music? If it doesn’t, why not? How do you contextualize your sound?

PB: That’s a good question; I have never really given it much thought. We do maintain a slightly darker (more damp) sound; I suppose we must be a Seattle band. In the end, I don’t know if it is really up to us.  

There is something I love about the DIY ethos though; while sitting here, I am surrounded by a guitar, a bass and keyboard, a sewing machine, an ice cream maker and some screen printing materials that just arrived in the mail. Our songwriting process is heavily wrapped up in DIY, but I would be lying if I said we didn’t also enjoy sitting in a mixing room at a studio, knitting together a great mix.  

AF: Tell me about the new EP. What are some underlying themes for it (besides love)? What personnel were essential to its creation?

PB: This EP is really about relationships of all sorts. In addition to love, we also dive into obsession and rejection, the point at which lust gives way to ennui, and the often paralyzing inability to face one’s fears in the face of commonplace opposition. Although I write all the songs, every member of the band is essential to the process. I bring the story and a melody, Saba adds beats with influences more further ranging than I can even say, Jewel bring infectious bass lines making each of the songs dance worthy, and Eric adds depth.

AF: How do you create best? Do you all write together, or does one person bring in an idea and then the rest fill in their parts? What’s your writing process?

PB: I tend to write the songs to start. Because I am primarily a songwriter, I work best by completing a full demo, or what I would consider a complete thought. I almost never jam, and I marmalade even less often. Generally, I record every instrument and vocal harmony in the song and share it with the band, at which point, they often do something completely different (this is an essential part of keeping my aforementioned ego safely in check). We then workshop a new track over the course of a few weeks or months until it feels done. At this point it is ready to be recorded or played live. Some songs rarely see the stage (like our beautiful but congenitally down tempo, “Let You Down”), while others, we play out almost as soon as we have written them.  Our live shows are a great way to hear new music in its infancy.  

AF: This EP feels intimate and personal. Is it autobiographical? Or do you write about characters or from a character’s point of view?

PB: While it is impossible for anything not to be at least a little autobiographical (especially with an ego as big as mine), I consider myself to be primarily a story teller, and a satirist to a point. I create characters who, often comically, speak to something true about all of us. We can connect with the plight of the protagonist in “Uneasy” who can’t bring themselves to finish an argument, unable to face the true nature of the underlying issue, because we have all felt that way at one point or another. It is personal in that we all share these feelings, though we are sometimes ashamed to admit it.

AF: If you could have dinner with one musical artist, who would it be and what would you eat? And why?

PB: I think I would quite like to share a meal with Jeff Lynne. His music has been more of an inspiration to me than I would like to admit. I would also love to meet The Crystals and I like to pretend I would get along fantastically with Jarvis Cocker, but if I’m honest, if we actually met, it would probably be a lot of awkward silence.  

AF: What are some future goals you have for Golden Idols?

PB: I would really love to tour Europe. We haven’t had a chance to make it yet, but it is definitely on the To Do list. And next time I’m in Dublin, I know not to take the tunnel; that’s 8 Euro I’ll never get back.

AF: Next show? Are you touring? Give readers a way to follow what you’re up to.

PB: We have a show at the No Sleep Till Greenwood festival September 1st in Seattle. We also have a show November 30th at Tractor Tavern, also in Seattle. We are currently working on new music, which we hope to release some time next year, but for now, you can follow us on Spotify, join our mailing list at our website, or any of your other favorite streaming services.

PLAYING SEATTLE: Drummer Heather Thomas Opens Up on Gritty New EP

Seattle-based singer, songwriter, and drummer Heather Thomas has held it down on the kit since she was a kid in Puyallup, WA, playing in her church youth group band and learning percussion parts from her dad. Steadily, through writing and performing her own songs, teaching music, and touring with notable Seattle-bred artists like Mary Lambert, Thomas has found a voice entirely her own and garnered a reputation as one of the most infectiously kind and formidably talented musicians in the area.

Her sophomore EP, Open Up, which drops August 16th, showcases a decidedly fiercer Heather Thomas than ever before. As a songwriter, she’s comfortable in her skin, confident in her voice, and her songs have a grittier edge than those on her 2017 solo debut, People in Places. And the strength isn’t a put-on; it’s complemented with Thomas’ natural positivity and sense of fun. As she sings the opening lines to the title track, “Open up, love, can’t you see? There’s a hole in you and me. At the bottom we can meet and find the light!” it’s easy to lean in to see the glass half-full through her eyes.

On August 16th, Open Up will be officially released into the world at Clock-Out Lounge with a banger show—featuring Thomas and her band, of course, as well Holidae House, Big Tooth, and Olivia De La Cruz. Thomas spoke with Audiofemme about the making of the new EP, healing as a call-to-action, and her goal to grace a Super Bowl stage someday.

AF: Tell me a little about your place in the Seattle scene. Who and what are you inspired by in Seattle?

HT: I have played in so many bands in Seattle as an on-call drummer, so I feel very supportive of and supported by others in the scene. I get to record on lots of albums, I get to help other songwriters bring their music to life on stage and I get to tour and bring our music to other places. I feel like my place in the scene is to support and inspire others and to push for change and innovation in the circles I run in. In Seattle I’m inspired most by the other womxn I see fronting bands and defying stereotypes. There’s a lot of interesting new music being made right now that doesn’t sound like the music coming from other US cities and where I see the most challenging and unique material is in the powerful defiance of empowered womxn. (I say womxn to include trans, non-binary, or femme-identifying people who may not have been born or raised as females).

AF: How about the new release, Open Up, you’re putting out? What was the process of making it like?

HT: The title track, “Open Up,” was recorded by George Wiederkehr at Mosaic Studios in LA at the California College of Music. The second track, “I Am the Desert,” was recorded by Kenny Moran at Blue Microphones Studio in LA, and “When I Was Young” was recorded by Eric Lilavois at London Bridge. We flew down to LA to record the first two songs and to play a show at The Mint last February, and then we recorded the third song at London Bridge as an in-studio music video. George was the engineer on my first album so it was fun to work with him again. Kenny is a friend of mine from working with Mary Lambert and it was great to get to see the Blue Microphones Studio, where they’ve got some really cool gear like the Moog used on Michael Jackson’s records or the piano that used to belong to David Bowie’s pianist. Eric is a dear friend of mine and after recording drums and background vocals on his album, we decided to work together again on a video for one of my songs. All three studios were really great and I love working with each of the engineers.

AF: Is opening up something that’s easy or hard for you? Why did you choose that name for the title of the EP – is it a call to action for others to open up?

HT: Open Up was written after I read a Joseph Campbell book about the power of myth. I don’t know if opening up is easy for me but it’s definitely something I value in myself and others. You know, the artists that inspire me the most seem incredibly honest and in-touch with their own faults and struggles and I want to be able to be truthful about my experience. The title is a bit of a call-to-action because I feel like healing is one of the most important aspects of moving forward and evolving as a species and a society and you can’t heal until you face your fears and your trauma. 

AF: I know you were a relatively newer songwriter when we last spoke around your first release, People in Places. How have you grown as a songwriter since, in your own eyes?

HT: I think my music is getting a little harder-hitting and grittier. I’m taking more chances with arrangements and becoming more sure of myself and what I have to say. I’m not shying away from key changes or metric modulations or saying things about myself that are less-than-flattering.

AF: What was the most rewarding thing and the most challenging thing about the process of making Open Up?

HT: The most rewarding thing is people connecting to the music. I love when someone tells me they have one of my songs stuck in their head or that a lyric made them think or feel something new. The most challenging thing is doing all the non-musical work that goes into a release, like formatting photos and sending press releases and booking/promoting shows. I’m getting better at buckling down and doing the work but it’s really not what I like to do. I just want to play music! But I also want people to get a chance to hear it, so all that other stuff has to get done. 

AF: Tell me about personnel on the EP, and briefly about your relationships with them.

HT: The band is myself, Dune Butler and Oliver Franklin. Dune and I have been playing together for years in General Mojo’s and as the rhythm section for other bands. Oliver and Dune are roommates, and Oliver and I have gotten to play together in his band The Senate as well as in his own original project. We all play and write lots of music together so we have a really strong sense of trust and support musically.

AF: The single that you use for the music video, “When I was Young,” has a very reflective quality. Do you feel like you look back a lot? Are you in a nostalgic moment in your life?

HT: I think for me it’s important to look back and realize where habits or patterns come from so that I can move forward in a self-aware and accountable way. I want to grow and change and be better for myself and everyone around me, and that means looking honestly at where things are broken or immature and doing the work of healing and improving. I’m not too nostalgic; I’m grateful for the journey I’m on but I don’t look back and wish I was in a different place or long for earlier times. I strive to stay present and enjoy things the way they are while continuing to set myself up for better things to come.

AF: What are your goals with this EP? Will you tour?

HT: My goals are to start a conversation, to put something completely original and inspiring into the world from where I’m at now. I will continue to write, record, and release music my whole life, so this is a snapshot of what things are like right now and sort of a foundation and reference point for the future. I am going on a West Coast tour starting the day after the EP releases. 

AF: What are your goals overall? What’s next for you? Is the sort of career you want as a musician crystallizing for you? 

HT: I have this goal of being “drummer famous,” like not necessarily a famous drummer but well-known among drummers. I aim to win a Grammy someday. I will tour internationally. I will license music for TV/film. Someday I hope to play the Super Bowl. I have a goal of getting more girls and women to play the drums. I want to play drums on the moon. I have lots of goals! I think the most important is to continue to play and write music and never stop. I don’t see my career as one thing – more like an artistic pursuit that will change and grow in many directions as I progress. What’s next for me is yet to be seen. I’ve got songs to record, ideas to write about, and all kinds of interesting opportunities are always opening up, so there’s no certainty, only possibilities! 

AF: Lastly, give me a little idea what the release show for Open Up will be like?

HT: The release show is August 16th at the Clock-Out Lounge, which is a great venue for music (with really good pizza too!). The show opens with local songwriter Olivia De La Cruz, who writes and sings gorgeous songs. Then Holidae House from Portland, who have a really tight psychedelic sound and really beautiful music, followed by local ripping musicians Big Tooth who are going to bring a killer show. Our set will include some brand new songs and some re-arrangements of old ones, and we’re going to be rocking out as well as getting really open and intimate. We’ll have the EP for sale as a poster printed on 100% post-consumer recycled paper with a download-code printed on compostable flower-seed paper. 

Follow Heather Thomas on Instagram or check out her website. 

UPCOMING TOUR DATES:
8/16 – Seattle, WA @ Clock-Out Lounge
8/17 – Portland, OR @ Bunk Bar, Portland
8/19 – Eugene, OR @ Old Nick’s Pub
8/20 – San Fransisco, CA @ Hotel Utah
8/21 – Los Angeles, CA @ Silverlake Lounge
8/22 – Joshua Tree @ Landers Brew Co.

PLAYING SEATTLE: Fall in Love with Lizzie Weber’s Latest Single, “When You Look At Me”

press photo by Tony Hammons

Like a child’s pirouette, the new single from songwriter Lizzie Weber, “When You Look At Me,” spins gentle and dreamlike. Inspired by the early days of her relationship with her now-husband, “When You Look at Me,” is sung with the sort of tender lilt that plunges someone into the pool of memory. It’s visceral. You can hear Weber’s sighs, their locked eyes, the heart swells, and—in with subtle repetition of “when you look at me that way again”—the sweet, time-stopping daze of new love.

For years, Weber has written songs like these. Weber was born and raised in St. Louis, MO, where she released her well-received 2014 debut, but moved to California to pursue acting. When Audiofemme caught up with the songwriter, who eventually settled in the Seattle in 2016, we learned a little more about her original dream to act, her obsession with contemporary female artists of the 1990s, and the wellspring of inspiration she finds in life’s relationships and transitions.

AF: When did you get into music? What was the early inspiration to write songs?

LW: I remember developing an appreciation for music as a child. The first album I ever had was a gift from my dad at age six: Alison Krauss & Union Station’s Everytime You Say Goodbye. My older brother was taking piano lessons and eventually I followed suit. I would, of course, learn the classical pieces assigned to me by my teacher but also ask that she let me learn pieces by contemporary female artists of the 90’s: Jewel, Sarah McLachlan, and Fiona Apple to name a few. I don’t think it made her too happy! But, those women were taking the industry by storm, demonstrating to the world the power of balladry and dynamic songwriting. By fourteen I began composing instrumental pieces on the piano, and at age eighteen I began learning to play guitar after a friend gave me all of Joni Mitchell’s catalogue to listen to; I was determined to become adept at both instruments.

AF: You originally pursued acting in Studio City— do you still act? Why did you decide to switch gears and focus on music?

LW: Yes, I did. I suppose I still act on occasion in my music videos, but other than that, not really. That’s still a passion of mine that’s very much alive, but there was something about songwriting that made it become the more important passion. Perhaps because I didn’t have to wait to be cast in a play or film to create. I could make art on my own time, and that was much more attractive to me after spending a few years in LA.

AF: How long have you been active in the Seattle scene? Are there other local musicians you watch?

LW: I moved to the northwest in 2016 and have pretty much been gigging around the region since that time. The amazing thing about the Seattle music scene is that everyone seems to have a lane, and if there isn’t one, they just make one for themselves. When I was performing in St. Louis, I would occasionally have people come up to me after shows and ask, “So, what genre are you?” I didn’t much like feeling as though I had to choose, but I do understand the desire to be able to classify an artist as something. I haven’t gotten that question since moving here, and I don’t think I ever will. I feel as though Seattle’s music scene is multi-faceted. I think it only creates more growth as a songwriter and I’m very attracted to that approach in writing and producing my work. It’s booming with talent and I’m very proud to be a part of the community.

AF: How do you define your music?

LW: Intimate storytelling with influences of folk, pop and world music.

AF: What inspires you—other artists, your surroundings, a phrase? How are your songs born?

LW: All of the above. Personal life experiences, traveling and experiencing cultures that are foreign to my own, books, nature, poetry, romance. Most of my music has been inspired by transitions in my life or relationships that left me changed somehow, for better or worse. I find that those are stories that are worth sharing, even though it’s not always easy to.

AF: What are the biggest challenges for you when writing a song? When performing?

LW: I think it’s easy to want to resort to the same devices when songwriting; by that I mean perhaps continuing to write in a meter or rhythm that you’re attracted to, but if I find that happening I will challenge myself to go back and make significant changes. I don’t like to rush in finishing pieces. Most songs that I write, I like to sit on for a few months and let them settle in. Do I like the structure? Is the melody interesting? Are the two working together harmoniously or fighting each other? That’s where my mind seems to go now when writing. I’m not interested in making records that all sound the same. I would not be content with that. I want to create bodies of work that can clearly be set a part from one another, but have one soul weaving throughout them all: my own.

I suppose performing my songs feels like the easy part, because the hard work has been done. At this point, I get to connect with strangers and friends alike, and hope that the stories are resonating.

AF: In the bio on your website you talk a lot about how St. Louis made you, but what about Seattle/Fidalgo—how did those places influence your music and the person you’ve become?

LW: Moving away from St. Louis as an artist was one of the hardest changes to make in my adult life. I had a band, supportive family and good friends, and a kind and supportive scene in St. Louis. I’m deeply grateful for my roots there. But in the end, staying in your comfort zone, especially as an artist, can potentially be creatively crippling. I didn’t know a soul when I moved out here. It was lonely at first. I was playing open mics, asking folks to hop on bills with me, collaborating with instrumentalists I never thought I would, and in the end it was the biggest personal and professional growth period of my life. They welcomed me with open arms and I’m very grateful for that. It taught me the important of patience, a virtue that isn’t always easy to embrace, and to remain open to change. Some of the most beautiful experiences in my life arose out of change, and the same goes for my songwriting.

AF: Tell me about the new single, “When You Look at Me.” What inspired the lyrics? Is the song autobiographical?

LW: I actually wrote the lyrics for this song years ago, back in 2015, when I fell in love with my (now) husband. At first I had arranged it as a slow, finger-picked melody on guitar. Eventually a few friends asked me to perform it at their weddings because of the intimate lyrics, and I did. For a long time, it still felt unfinished. In the winter of this year I created a demo in my home-studio and decided to just record and release it as a single.

AF: Is the new single teasing a forthcoming album? If so, when can we expect that to come out?

LW: There’s a chance this song will be on the next album, but no promises there. My next album will be recorded this fall and released in 2020.

AF: What are some goals you have for your music career?

LW: To continue to create music that connects with audiences near and far, friends and strangers alike. To be a part of the movement that is shedding light on female artists and our long history as the underrepresented gender in our industry. Perhaps the most important responsibility alongside being a performer is giving back, and creating more opportunity for those without the proper resources to follow in our footsteps.

 

PLAYING SEATTLE: Nauticult Scream Into the Void on Human Use of Human Beings EP

Seattle’s Nauticult— equal parts industrial hip-hop and thrashing noise punk—was born in a moment of raw inspiration. For years, the members had known each other and even considered rapping over beats together, but they didn’t actually pull the trigger until a surprise birthday party performance in 2015.  The result was cataclysmic innovation—electric drums, synth guitar and rasping energetic rap over a rousing Busta Rhymes instrumental—so memorable, friends at the party were reliving the moment on social media the next day.

This marked the beginning of Nauticult and the fiercely conscious music they continually chew on and spit out. Their new EP, Human Use of Human Beings, the follow up to 2017’s Phantom Limb, drops July 9th, and all three members of Nauticult—vocalist Austin Sankley (She/Her), guitarist and synth Dylan Berry (He/They), and drummer/sampler Evan Fitzgerald (He/Him)—gave Audiofemme the scoop on their upcoming release show at The Ruins on July 9th, bridging the seemingly disparate genres of hip hop and noise punk, and their preoccupation with themes of religion, cults, and group thought.

AF: Tell me in more detail how you got started making music together—and about that birthday party in 2015.

EF: We had been friends or at least known each other for years and wanted to do some sort of rap group type shit for a while. In 2015,  we had a birthday party for Dylan, and that night Austin had some intense family trauma happen and said she didn’t want to perform that night at all. We had only thought about just making beats and rapping to them, but we got juiced and put on Busta Rhymes instrumentals, then I got on my electric drum set and Dylan picked up his synth guitar and Austin quote “channeled the negative energy into the mic.” At the time I actually didn’t remember a thing about it until Dylan told me the next day “yo, Geoff got a sick Snapchat of us last night.” I watched it, and it was the filthiest blend of bassy, thrashy hardcore rap that I hadn’t heard, and I was like yo, fuck making beats, we’re doing this.

AF: What was the objective you had when you first started out?

AS: Our objective was purely to make music we wanted to hear. I had never really imagined I would be in a band, let alone making the music I was making. I think the feeling was mutual. We were all obsessed with experimentation. We were really trying to create a style we hadn’t heard before, and to make music that contrasted what was being made around us. It took me a while to really learn how to match the energy and for us to find our rhythm together. 

AF: What’s Nauticult mean?

AS: It is a play on “Not a cult.” To me it really means not assimilating to toxic bullshit and group thought, and not making music that everyone else is making. And trying to be successful while retaining individualism. Sort of critiquing the cult-like logic that goes into writing processes, and social dynamics and powers and the way we operate in society. It’s also thought of as something that someone says about the cult they are in to someone they are trying to indoctrinate into a cult. It also plays into nautical themes. My rap name is Argonaut so it plays into the last four letters of my rap name. 

DB: Nauticult also directly translates to a cult of the sea, and relates to how a lot of sounds and textures we use are drenched in effects and very wet in the mix of things, almost to the point of being overloaded; it represents the more psychedelic elements of our band and the overall vastness of the influences we are pooling from. Nauticult is definitely a multiple iteration type of name. 

EF: Naughty cult (lmao). We were way more naughty and trouble making a few years ago; now we’ve cooled our shit down. But yeah we used to go egging and shit. Ah man, I got some good stories from then though.

AF: What inspired you to combine elements of hip hop with punk? 

EF: I wouldn’t say we were inspired to do anything from other artists, [but] me and Dylan had been death metal musicians from the jump, and now we are just influenced from a wider range of music. [We’re] heavily [into] production of rap, goth synth shit, all that, and now with our unique music equipment, the music is an organic blend of how we play our instruments naturally and what we listen to. And Austin has rapped since she was five, so why would she do anything else than her super power? Might I also add she is the greatest lyricist of all time.

AF: Who or what do you feel like your music is in conversation with? A place, another artist, an era? 

DB: There was never one artist that we’ve all looked to as a band upon starting this group. Part of what made the inception of Nauticult so exciting was the raw energy of all the genres we were bringing to the table. This day and age there is more noisy/industrial music than ever, bridging from hardcore to hip-hop and psychedelic music and everywhere in between, screaming out to the void of the world. This tension we all feel. We have been inspired by artists such as Shabazz Palaces who blend live percussion with psychedelic productions and more metaphysical and spacial themes, similar to the lyrical themes used in the group, clipping. who also bring a blistering, industrial flavor to hip-hop, and JPEGMAFIA, who has some of the grittiest production and lyrical style out there in this genre—which has been described as nihilistic, villainous or satirical. Our music is not a nod to any of these artists but an acknowledgement that we are all a product of our environments and influences in an intense and evolving sort of way when it comes to our experimental approach, musical background and industrial creed in approach to sampling, ideology and crafting our own sounds. 

AF: What spaces and communities in Seattle have been most supportive to you and your music? 

AS: There have been so many spaces that have supported us: Fred Wildlife Refuge, The Ruins, Chop Suey, Barboza. We have gotten a lot of support from the hip hop community, punk, queer community, burlesque, and metal scene. We are so lucky to have the support that we do. I love everyone who comes out to our shows!

AF: Tell me about your new EP, out July 9th. What energies or forces brought it to fruition? What are some of its underlying themes and drives? 

AS: We honestly wrote a lot of the songs on this EP directly after Phantom Limb came out and have just been refining them. The process has taken a long time with playing shows and everything else taking up time. The themes are commodification, violence, group thought, possession, technology, and war. It really plays into a lot of the themes behind our name. It’s an exorcism for the things that possess us, such as religion, group thought, trauma, identity, abuse, sexism, masculinity and all things cult. 

AF: How did the new EP challenge you? 

DB: Some of the material on Human Use of Human Beings we’ve been sitting on for some time but with how many shows we would be playing and tours we went on we had a hard time solidifying our writing process in the studio, having four different practice spaces since our first album. We took a much needed hiatus last fall/winter in order to distill these elements and finally put together our own home setting where we have the utmost control in our writing process and production as well as the workflow of putting together our music. It was a real challenge to get to this point.

AF: In comparison to your other releases, how does the new EP stack up? 

DB: With our first EP, Phantom Limb, I feel like we were really finding our voice, charging straight ahead into making these songs that were thrashy, psychedelic and dense. With this EP we are about to put out I feel as though all of our approaches are much more developed. We use more effects and arrangement and samples, pieced together with more progressive song structures, longer songs and even more conceptual lyrics. We have all integrated more as far as how we write together and communicate and that has definitely translated into the music.

AF: Tell me a bit about the show at The Ruins. Is this a place you play often? Will you have an opener? Any surprises as a part of the release show?

AS: This is our first time playing the venue. We are playing with So Pitted, Fucked & Bound, and Guayaba. OC Notes is doing a DJ Set, we have burlesque and aerialists, as well as live tattooing & vendors. It’s going to be wild. 

AF: Are you touring with the EP? What are your future goals for Nauticult?

AS: We actually aren’t going to tour with this EP – we want to play a few more shows  and then go back into writing. We have the skeleton of an album that we are writing done, and it’s a big switch up from either of our EPs. It’s going to be our first full length. So after this release we are going to get back to cooking. 

AF: How can people follow your band/buy your music?

AS: We are available on all streaming websites – Bandcamp is a good place to purchase our music and merch. We are most active on Instagram and Facebook as far as updates go.

PLAYING SEATTLE: Omar Schambacher of Great Spiders on Making Music His Own Way

In Seattle, bands are known to achieve success in unconventional ways. Unlike bands in popular music towns like L.A. and Nashville, Seattle musicians are stubborn about forging their own way in order to maintain creative control, playing music that’s authentic first and foremost, and bucking industry commercialism. It’s how grunge was born, and why Seattle continues to export unique artists that take listeners by surprise.

Great Spiders is a perfect example of this sort of Seattle band. For twelve years, Omar Schambacher has made music under the moniker, playing shows throughout the city and building a solid following of “Spiders.” And yet, Great Spiders only has two singles to their name on Bandcamp, and not a single full-length album. It’s not that he’s creatively blocked or doesn’t want to record—Schambacher is a prolific songwriter and performer. More so, it’s that Schambacher is a self-proclaimed perfectionist who is putting his music out exactly how he wants to.

Luckily, those two tracks (and a new single that was recently leaked, as Schambacher put it, called “Cisuicide”) are really good—meticulously written and arranged without being overly-polished, catchy without being saccharine, and nostalgic with a modern spin. They tease listeners with just enough to bring people out to shows, and defy the typical industry standards, in a way only a Seattle band could.

AF: How did you get started with music? 

OS: I started playing guitar when I was 15, but I used to hum along with the lawnmower and play Hippie whistles as a kid. I always loved music. I think mostly about composition. I moved to Seattle after high school and joined a top 40 cover band. That was a great education. We played casinos and private occasions.

AF: What was the first live show you ever attended?

OS: My father tells me he took me to see Spirit when I was very young, like one or two years old. He told me Randy California the guitar player made thoughtful eye contact with me while I sat mesmerized at the foot of the stage. But I don’t remember that. Actually, the first show I remember seeing would have to have been Bob Dylan, Tracy Chapman and Chet Atkins. Quite a bill! 

AF: How long has Great Spiders been around?

OS: Shit, like 12 years? I’ve always had songs. My friend threw that name (Great Spiders) out there and I thought it was dumb at first, but then I realized it was alright. I just went with it.

AF: Tell me about your sound—what influences come together? 

OS: Oh man… This question. So much! And so much not. I really don’t like much from the last 20 years. I do find myself rescinding on that statement a fair amount. Especially if I’m high and listening to a newish banger. I’m like thinking ‘damn, I was wrong!’ But when people ask me usually I’m just like: “classic blues like Albert King, groups like Guns N’ Roses, The Supremes… John Denver, Madonna, etcetera.” I think Guns N’ Roses has been my favorite band since I was like 10, despite any stupid shit Axl did as a young man. They just sound so good to me. Especially the Use Your Illusions. To me those records sound like The Rolling Stones but with the musicianship of Queen. But, yeah. Mostly all that old stuff, and on up through the Nirvana era is my shit. Really the truest epoch of formative archetypal western pop/rock. 

Whether people hear that in my music is a different story. See, unfortunately the problem is my voice naturally lends itself to that sort of twee, northwest “indie” quality that makes you think of the Verizon Wireless guy. Yuck. Not feeling the Geico commercials or the whoops. I would die to have a voice like Iggy or either one of the two Morrisons. I’ve tried to get other singers. It hasn’t worked out yet.

AF: What’s you songwriting process like? Do you have a routine?

OS: It’s always different. Sometimes a hook will just happen. Sometimes I will consciously rip off a melody from a song I hear and then put different chords beneath it, then tweak it until no one but me would know how it came to be. Almost like a remix. My biggest problem is writing too many songs about ex-lovers or people I want to love. Cliché but timeless!

AF: How has Seattle been to you as a band?

OS: I have come to know an abundance of beautiful friends and musicians. There have been some gracious industry folks who have had my back. However —truth be told— the hype machine here never gave much of a shit about me or my music. You know how superficial things are. I’d say maybe they just don’t like me? Or, a more lofty assessment would be that they don’t get me. But I know they know about me. Ha! Also, I have myself to blame because my recorded output has been fairly spare thus far. I’m just too much of a perfectionist. I want to share my music, but I want it to be just right!

AF: Do you feel that your music is in conversation with any bands or other communities in Seattle? If so, which ones? 

OS: Not really. Well, I don’t know if I’m really bouncing off of anyone around here. Ya know? Like I said I’m mostly just influenced by all that tired ol’ classic rock. I could name bands I like in town, but that gets dicey. I love playing in my friend’s bands whenever they need something. I really try and get the part to be how they want it to be. I’m probably gonna move to LA soon like a lot of folks have, or Mexico.

AF: It’s been a little bit since you’ve released any new music. Do you have anything in the works? 

OS: Ugh. Yes. I swear I’m not a poseur, just a perfectionist! I don’t even have one record out. Just YouTube vids and a Sound/Camp and MySpace or whatever. There is one unmastered new track that kind of got leaked from a compilation on to Spotify recently. It’s called “Cisuicide.” You can Google it on Spotify or whatever people do. At this point I probably just sound really old. Ha! 

AF: Do you make your entire living from music? Or are you about the side-hustle?

OS: It actually picked back up this year. It’s never been a lot but I’ve made enough to pay rent. I’ve been fired from every service job I’ve ever had. I’ve done all sort of shit here and there. I’ve sold weed, I’ve been up commercial fishing in Bristol Bay a few times.

AF: Many will see your story and wonder how you manage to garner a solid following and make money on your music with so few releases? I know you’re live shows are a blast, though, which helps. What do you think it is?

OS: People tell me that the show is entertaining live. I know I probably look like a total dork. Anyway, I realized long ago, if your will is good it’s better to do absolutely whatever you feel like live. So, if I want to stop and tell a joke in the middle of a song, or go into a cover impulsively, I will. Mac Demarco does this sort of thing. It’s one of the coolest things about him. About six years ago, after a show, someone told me I reminded them of this kid blowing up in New York and it was him. I went home, checked out one of his vids and I cried… I was like: ‘Wow, he gets it. All the layers of absurdity, humor, tongue in cheek hipster-dom, pop culture, mixed with real musicianship and fundamental goodwill.’ I ended up opening from him once. I think we share the same *hat*titude. Ha! But yeah, if we have any following live it’s probably because we’re LIVE as hell.

AF: Tell me about your band members. Why’d you choose them to accompany you?

OS: Really it’s like a team first and foremost. So personality is number one. We have to be able to joke around with each other. Being basically prepared, the less seriously we approach the stage the better the performance. That holds true 110% of the time. Folks who want to play music — that’s worth a shit — should also have a basic level of musicality. Like, just be able to tap your foot in rhythm, or whistle a tune. The more realistic one is about one’s own musical prowess, the better the musician. 

AF: When you founded Great Spiders, what sort of vision did you have for the group?

OS: Uh, success? Ha! I would be thrilled to have a hit. I’m not sure that my sound or vibe is in vogue though. I try to use hooks and elements I think are timeless, but you never know. 

Honestly — superficiality aside — music hits me on a soul level and if I can continue to connect with people through it, and make a little money at it I’ll be pleased as punch. Music is meant to be shared I think, more so than any other art form. Like, it cries out to be a synergistic social catalyst.

Catch Great Spiders live on June 22nd at McMenamin’s Spanish Ballroom and follow the band on Facebook for more updates.

PLAYING SEATTLE: The “Cosmic Glitter” of Golden Gardens

Cosmic glitter. That’s how singer Aubrey Bramble describes Golden Gardens, the band she co-founded with Gregg Neville in 2012. She’s dead on, of course.

Their last album, 2016’s Reign, is one ethereal, melancholic starburst after another. Likewise, the listening experience of  their newest single, “Desert Rose,” is less a walk on parched earth than it is a flight through iridescent heavens. There’s mirage-like synth, shimmering guitars, and Bramble’s vocals lingering across it all like a comet tail.

Currently in the midst of an eight-week tour, Bramble works as an energy healer on the road from the band’s converted minivan before sailing into a dreamworld at night. She took some time out of her busy day to chat about her love of poet Mary Oliver and musician Bryan Ferry, the beloved Seattle park that inspired Golden Garden’s name, and what the future may hold for this powerful trio.

AF: Hi Aubrey. Tell me, how did you get into music? 

AB: Golden Gardens is my first real band. I’ve always loved singing and secretly wanted to do it professionally for a long time but never had any formal training. I just sang along to a lot of Sundays, Cranberries, Cocteau Twins, Cardigans, and Kate Bush growing up and fantasized about performing on stage. I played a little violin in elementary school and can also play some bass and keyboard but that’s mostly by ear. 

AF: What about the rest of the band? How did the band meet each other? 

AB: Golden Gardens was originally just Gregg Neville and myself. I met Gregg in 2006 or 2007, when we were both living in Tampa, FL. I curated and hosted a bunch of art, film, and music events at the local skatepark there and I booked his solo noise project a few times. We didn’t start the band until after I moved to Seattle; he was still living in Tampa. Eventually he moved to Seattle so we could do the band thing for real. That was in 2012. We were looking to add a drummer to the lineup directly following the release of Reign and that’s when we met Carl. He joined the band in 2017 as a drummer, but he now plays guitar predominantly (in addition to other instruments in the studio). He and I make up the current touring/writing lineup. 

AF: What’s the story behind your band name? Does it have to do with the beloved Seattle park by the same name?

AB: Our band name does in fact come from the Seattle park! I hadn’t been in Seattle very long when we were trying to think of a name and I remember seeing the sign for Golden Gardens while driving over the Ballard Bridge one day, thinking that it sounded like such a magical place. Very Alice in Wonderland and dream-like. Turns out the park is pretty beautiful — it’s on the Sound and there’s spectacular views of the Olympic Mountains and these giant brightly-colored poppies grow there in the Spring too. So, it just felt perfect. 

AF: I know you’re influence by Bryan Ferry, Cocteau Twins, and Depeche Mode. What about these artists reach you as a band and inspire you?

AB: I’m pretty inspired by the pageantry and sense of luxury in the music of Bryan Ferry. It’s all very exaggerated and lofty and wafting and velvety. It inspires me to lean in to the glitter factor whenever possible. I don’t think you can be too extra when it comes to art.

The power coupling of dream-like, layer-cake guitars and ethereal, otherworldly vocals of the Cocteau Twins has always made my heart burst sonically. It’s a vibe I aspire to (but don’t want to mimic exactly). My intention for our music has always been to hypnotize and lull listeners into a rainbow-colored, aural reverie. Like Audrey Horne always says, “Isn’t it too dreamy?” That’s my goal – dreaminess. 

As for Depeche Mode, it’s all about the sparkly darkness! I love their moody, gothy, seductive aesthetic. Not to mention, the synth programming is so impeccable in all of their songs, especially on Music For The Masses. That level of sharpness, attention to detail, precision, and focus is something that is really impressive to me. Plus, they’ve produced some pretty fire bangers. 

AF: Do you feel like you’re in conversation with any other bands in Seattle musically? What about outside of Seattle?

AB: We don’t really feel like we’re in conversation musically with any bands in Seattle at the moment, but there are a bunch of bands in town we really love like Wind Burial, jjjacob jjjames, Belgian Fog, somesurprises, Charlatan… the list could go on. As for bands outside of Seattle… Beach House, Drab Majesty, and Tamaryn are all bands we feel sonically connected to. 

AF: Tell me about the instrumentation of the band. How do you get that dreamy sound?

AB: On the guitars we use a lot of stereo delay and stereo chorus, as well as some pitch shifting. We also use some of those same effects on the drums. For the synths we are really inspired by a Pure Moods-mixed-with-’80s-post-punk kind of vibe so we look for plug-ins and analog settings that can achieve that sound, and then we’ll usually add some of our own effects on top. 

AF: What inspired “Desert Rose,” the new single?

AB: Lyrically, the song was inspired by my favorite Mary Oliver poem, “Wild Geese.” It’s a good one to look up if you’ve never read it. To me, it’s about how much we torture ourselves unnecessarily — how we hyper-focus on the small picture instead of opening our eyes to the bigger one. There’s a line that I adore: “you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.” It’s so beautiful. It’s a pretty powerful message and it really came to my rescue during a particularly anguishing emotional time for me last year. 

AF: Does this single feel like a next step in the band’s evolution? How so?

AB: Definitely. Carl and I wrote this song together and it’s a very different process than how we previously wrote songs as a band. It was a very collaborative experience where we sat in a room together and programmed everything out and made musical decisions in real-time (versus working independently). I wrote the bass part (and play bass on the recording), which was really fun for me since I’ve previously just stuck to vocal melodies. We also worked with the amazing producer Randall Dunn (Zola Jesus, Chelsea Wolfe, Marissa Nadler) to record the track; it was a way more immersive and organic experience than what we’ve done in the past. He challenged us to come up with improvised parts in the studio and pushed us out of our comfort zone. 

AF: Is it teasing a forthcoming album? If so, tell me a little bit about that album and when it will drop?

AB: We are definitely working on more songs but that’s all I want to say at the moment. 

AF: Tell me about your tour — how long will you be out there? 

AB: We are touring for almost eight weeks! We are making a big loop around the entire country. We started in Seattle, went south through Oregon and California, across the Southwest, into the South, and up the east coast. I am currently answering from Madison, WI where we have a show tonight before hitting the road to Minneapolis in a couple days and then continuing our westward journey towards home. It’s a big trip but Carl and I both work jobs that don’t conform to a traditional 9-5 schedule (he’s a music teacher and I’m an energy worker), so we wanted to use that freedom to our advantage and really do it. Plus, it made more sense as far as gas and travel time and booking went.

We are driving around in a minivan that we converted into a stealth camper – we built a full size bed for the back and also have a camping stove, long term cooler, etc. so it makes it fairly simple (and cheap) to tour. We’ve also been staying with friends and family here and there along the way. It’s been a pretty wild adventure! 

AF: Is touring a creative time for you as a band? Or a dormant one? 

AB: Tour has been creatively nourishing for sure, and we’ve been coming up with a lot of ideas for what we want to do next. I’ve been keeping a journal where I write down potential lyrics and subject matter for new songs. We haven’t had a ton of time to write on this tour, but we did just finish a song that we had in process on a day off in Philadelphia and then added it to our set in Chicago. I feel like playing live and getting feedback night after night has been really valuable for our creative process also. 

AF: What are some goals you had as a band that you’ve accomplished? What are some you’re still hoping to achieve?

AB: I just feel so lucky that our music seems to resonate with people — that’s probably the biggest accomplishment I could hope for. Obviously I’d love to get a song on a commercial or movie soundtrack and we definitely want to tour in Europe. Mostly though, I just want to continue to grow and evolve as a musician and make music as much as possible with people I respect and admire. 

PLAYING SEATTLE: The Pornadoes Carry on the PNW’s Longtime Ties to Surf Guitar

Along with rock, punk, jazz and a vibrant hip hop scene, Seattle has musicians who thrive in the in-between – who have a knack for suspending themselves between styles and bring in multiple influences, highlighting Seattle’s quirkiness and creativity. The Pornadoes, “The World’s Only Swingasurfajazzabilly Band,” are a perfect example of that ethos. Their cinematic music is an ingenious melting pot; think surf music legend Duane Eddy meets country legend Chet Atkins meets “Greased Lightning.”

The Pornadoes mesh the swelling excitement of ’60s early rock and surf guitar, country and rockabilly-style vocals, with the harmonic and rhythmic complexities of swing and jazz music. It’s all accented with clever, humorous lyrics (see: “Waiting on a Spring Divorce”) delivered with the sort of emphatic twang of early 1950’s rock n’ roll, underscoring both nostalgia and timeless relevance of their sound.

The local four-piece recently dropped their fourth release since 2011, Go Tiger, GO!, which they recorded at Seattle’s legendary Seattle London Bridge Studios. Lead vocalist Jasper McCann and lead guitarist Jason “Mr. Goessl” Goessl sat down with Audiofemme to talk about recording the new album, Seattle’s ties to surf guitar, their ties to each other, and the origins of their sexy sound.

AF: Hi guys! To start off, tell me what forces brought The Pornadoes together?

JG: I formed The Pornadoes in 2011 as a guitar-driven instrumental surfabilly trio. The name “Pornadoes” came from an episode of Bones. My partner at the time suggested that would be a great name for a surfabilly band. So, I called my fellow Midwest transplants Tom Zgonc (drums) and Ethan Sobotta (bass) to form the band. Ethan and I met at Shell Lake Jazz camp in Northern Wisconsin in the early ’90s. We went to University of Wisconsin Eau Claire together for a few years in the mid ’90s. We lost track of each other for about a decade and met up again at a show at the Tractor in Ballard that we were double billed at. At the time he was playing with Wages of Sin and I was in Sunday Evening Whiskey Club. Tom Zgonc grew up in Minnesota and also went to school at UWEC. However, he was there a couple years before Ethan and I and didn’t meet him until we were in Seattle. We figured it must have been fate that brought three UWEC music kids together in the PNW so we had to start a band. Also these cats can read my mind musically so we never really had to rehearse to much. Our first shows were pop-up BBQs for Jack’s BBQ before he had his restaurant. I wrote the tunes and scratched out the basic chord structure and they made the magic happen! We self-released Now Serving in 2012. We got our first dozen shows because of the name alone.

JM: I joined in early 2015. The Pornadoes did a gig for one of my burlesque shows that went on the road to Walla Walla in summer of 2014. We started rapping about jazz and music in general and we became friends. I started to sit in with the fellas on some gigs and sing standards, and then Goose and I had a fair amount of beers at the Sloop Tavern one fateful night and he asked me to join the band and be the frontman. The rest is… history?

AF: I’ve learned there is a legacy of some cool surf-rock/guitar music in Seattle—does that legacy inspire or guide your music?

JG: Nokie Edwards from the Ventures has always been one of my favorite guitarists. Though he was born in Oklahoma he grew up in Puyallup. The Pornadoes’ second instrumental album was recorded at Jack Straw for Sonarchy Radio, which aired on KEXP at Midnight on Sundays. I was heavily inspired by Ventures In Space. So I called the album In Space. Much like the Ventures, we recorded this album with live in-studio sound effects happening in real time. I had my good friend and audio guru Robb Davidson (Nel’s Motel studios) bring in samples and do real time audio sampling of the trio. We recorded this album from front to end with no breaks or stops and only one take, staying true to the In Space vibe.

JM: Apparently Walk Don’t Run was recorded in West Seattle, right down from Parliament Tavern. The first surf record I ever got was Surfing by The Ventures. Wailers and The Sonics are inspirations too.

AF: What was your first exposure to this sort of guitar sound, Jason? Is this where you started?

JG: I started playing guitar when I was nine because I wanted to be Slash from Guns N’ Roses. After going to a jazz camp when I was twelve I fell head over heels down the jazz rabbit hole. High school was a blur of Miles, Parker, and Coltrane. My first year in college a friend introduced me to Marc Ribot and suggested I get some effects pedals. His punk approach to jazz launched me out of my “jazz box” and into a whole new universe of sound. I got my first guitar with a bigsby and started to find my own sound in “jazz” by interjecting surf and country riffs with bends and swells into jazz standards. I have a group that plays out once in a while called Surf Monk—we play arrangements of [jazz pianist] Thelonious Monk over surf mash-ups.

AF: Tell me about this new album, Go Tiger, GO! Where did you record it? Is there a theme that pushes it forward?

JM: We recorded Go Tiger, GO! in two days in late January of 2019, at London Bridge Studios… you know, where Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Alice In Chains, and many others recorded. That was a trip. Jonathan Plum, one of the owners, engineered it. We had a killer time in the studio – the experience was really positive and some sounds came out of the session that we didn’t expect. It was a real honor to work with Jonathan. As to theme, if anything, our “theme” is variety. On both the albums I’ve been involved with, we shift styles a lot. The overall timbre of the songs remains pretty consistent throughout the record.

JG: I like to make albums that play out like a film. Go Tiger, GO! is a fun thematic listen, twisting and turning through surf, country, rockabilly, blues, and a little punk. I wanted to keep the raw energy of a live show so we tracked the whole album in one day. Most songs were two takes. On day two we added back-up vocals and mixed. The overall theme to me is life. Each song is inspired by a personal experience or a relatable adventure by a good friend. There are lots of ups and downs and twists and turns.

AF: This is rockabilly music, but how do you believe it transcends and innovates the rockabilly sound?

JM: Rockabilly music, historically, is pretty simple from a musical and lyrical standpoint, with lots of 1-4-5 blues or 1-5-1 country licks and a fair amount of lyrical repetition, and the content of the lyrics tends to be fairly simple thematically. Our sound is “thicker” than traditional rockabilly, more heavy rock n ‘ roll solos and distortion, more chordal and rhythmic diversity that stems from everyone’s background in jazz. The lyrics that I write are also fairly complex (by rockabilly standards), mostly with a narrative approach. Also, when Goose asked me to join, he said he specifically wanted to create music that rockabilly ladies would listen to. So, knowing that old-timey rockabilly (as well as a lot of psychobilly) has themes that we don’t dig (specifically physical and/or sexual violence toward women, demeaning language, the reinforcement of hyper-traditional gender roles, etc.), I/we have written songs that eschew these themes. We choose instead to write about strong female characters. Or going to Mars. Or meeting strong female characters on Mars.

JG:  Yep, what Jasper said!

AF: Most people assume that upbeat, surfy music comes out of a sunny place, but this is Seattle-born. What about Seattle finds its way into The Pornadoes sound?

JM: I think our sound is Seattle Surf. The popular California surf archetype, especially the vocal groups (Beach Boys, Jan & Dean, etc.) was pretty cheery. But the way we approach the “surf” style is darker and heavier. There have been a few times where Goose and I looked at each other and say “Joey (Santiago, lead guitarist of Pixies) would like this lick.” I was heavily influenced by the grunge scene and the DC post-punk scene, both of which are melodically beautiful while still being angular and heavy. I think the great surf bands of today that are pushing the genre all have an aspect of punk, or grunge, and a more brooding aesthetic, which is ultimately in line with bands like The Lively Ones or The Ventures.

JG: Seattle is a melting pot of musical styles and a very bustling city! The crazy traffic and the feeling of having to constantly be going and doing inspires my writing and playing to have more notes and harmony.

AF: Obviously, it’s more than surf rock – there are definitive strains of country, too. Do you guys have country music influences that you like to bring out?

JM: Apropos of nothing, I am distantly related to Carl Perkins. When I was a kid, country music was pretty much everywhere back home (Kansas City), but it was actually good, like Willie and Waylon and Dolly and Crystal there was the whole C.W. McCall thing, not all of this formulaic crossover stuff that’s happening now. I grew up watching Hee Haw with my Grandad, so I was hearing Johnny Cash and that sort of stuff from a pretty young age – let’s say I knew who Buck Owens was before I ever heard a Zeppelin song. The themes aren’t too foreign.
Ask Goose about the pickin’ and grinnin’ part.

JG: I love country music. Chet Atkins is one of my favorite guitarists. Danny Gatton is huge influences well as George Barnes. Lenny Breau is where I copied my thumb picking technique from. I use a plethora of Junior Barnard riffs made my own in the Pornadoes as well!

AF: Again, people wouldn’t consider Seattle to be a place for country/rockabilly. What’s the scene like for this specific sound?

JM: I think there’s a fair amount of it around, but the places in town where you can hear it live are limited.

JG: The country scene in Seattle seems to be pretty strong, especially in Ballard, and there is definitely a scene at the Little Red Hen. Over the last decade I’ve had the honor to play hundreds of country shows with great country acts in Seattle including Jessica Lynn, Knut Bell, Caleb Bue, Caitlin Sherman, Country Dave Harmonson, and the The Whiskey Club. As well an annual Patsy Cline tribute that Debra Heesch produces. Currently I play with Birch Pereira and The Gin Joints which blends old school rockabilly, country, and jazz. The Gin Joints have no lack of work in Seattle.

AF: On that note, are there other bands like you out there (Seattle and beyond) that you feel like you’re in conversation with?

JM: I don’t want to say that what we’re doing is unique, but I don’t really know any other band that’s doing what we’re doing. Maybe it’s because our approach to rockabilly/surf has so much jazz influence in it. We’re not metal enough to be psychobilly, too heavy in some cases to be traditional rockabilly, and too jazzy to be surf or country. I don’t know who else is doing what we’re doing. I mean, if Reverend Horton Heat wants to give us a call, that’d be pretty hep.

JG: No, not yet. hopefully we can meet more bands along the way.

AF: What’s your personal favorite song on this album? What’s the story behind it?

JM: “Robbin’ Hood” for sure. I ran into the sister of a dear friend of mine a year or so ago, she was working at a restaurant where I had stopped for a drink. She was wearing a green dress but no leggings (it was summer) and was clearly in command of the attention of everyone at the bar. So her attire led me to one of my favorite films, Errol Flynn’s Adventures Of Robin Hood, and the two ideas collided and the song idea appeared, where I imagined her to be not a thief of money, but a thief of hearts. There are lots of fun references in the song to the Robin Hood legend. If you want to read the lyrics you can, right here.

JG: “Waiting For a Spring Divorce” is my favorite song. Our drummer Tom’s western swing feel melts my heart and our bassist Ethan’s slap upright keeps it beating. Jasper’s lyrics, inspired by his dear friends’ trials and tribulations, get me every time.

AF: Tell me about the band’s songwriting process… who writes what?

JM: I write the lyrics and do most of the songwriting, now. Before I joined, Goose was the sole composer. On our previous album, Launchpad Omega, he and I did a fair amount of back and forth; I would come to him with a lyrical idea or he would come to me with a musical idea and we would bounce ideas and work toward a common goal, with him being the musical lead on a majority of the charts. I ended up doing the majority of the generative work on Go Tiger, GO!, and when I got a chart to a place where I thought it was ready we’d get together and he’d add his ideas. Then we work like a jazz ensemble; Ethan plays from chord charts and he and Tommy arrange their own parts, and we all craft the final work in rehearsal.

JG: I’m not much of a wordsmith. I also have never been inspired to sing and most of the music that moves me is instrumental. I feel like most of my songs write themselves. It generally happens in the morning – I’ll wake up and I’ll feel this odd feeling that a song is about to burst out of me. I pick up my guitar and in about two hours the song is done. It’s uncontrollable. I make a chord sheet and an iPhone recording and send it to the guys to come up with their parts.

AF: Are you touring with this album?

JM: Not as yet. Everyone in the band has a fair amount of commitments; Goose and his wife are touring musicians and I am a burlesque theater producer, so carving out time is not as easy as it would be if we were in our twenties.

JG: Yep, not yet. My tour schedule this year with my duo Sundae + Mr. Goessl and The Gin Joints has me booked up this year. The Pornadoes have a few shows booked this year that I will fly back from tour for and do when I’m in Seattle. We will be releasing a video and working to book festivals and some shows in 2020.

AF: What’s the future hold for the band?

JM: As we get more traction, we hope to do more opening slots for bigger acts (too bad Wanda Jackson just retired – that was a dream of mine). We’re also looking to play the large rockabilly festivals like Viva Las Vegas and Nashville Boogie, as well as hit the circuits in Europe and Japan where rockabilly is big. I’ve already got enough new material in the works for half an album… I don’t know why we wouldn’t keep recording. We have too much fun together. Big Dream: one of our songs makes it on to a Tarantino soundtrack. Why not?

PLAYING SEATTLE: Rat Queen’s Jeff Tapia on Facebook Drama and D.I.Y. Collaboration

Songwriter, guitarist, and singer Jeff Tapia is a true Seattle artist. As an honest, quirky lyricist and melody-focused songwriter, Tapia carries on the traditions of true Seattle D.I.Y. culture. Along with their staunch support of other communities in the local arts scene, their authentic connection to the soul of city can be heard in their various projects and continues the city’s story of grunge and punk—and the grit in taking the road less traveled—that became more widely-known as the “Seattle Sound” in the 1990s.

Sitting down for a whisky at Belltown’s gritty Lava Lounge, Tapia is in their element—surrounded by other hip, irreverent creatives in high-top Doc Martins and black hoodies.  It’s in this atmosphere that Tapia—leader of pop-punk band Rat Queen, lead guitarist in glam rock 5-piece Razor Clam, and collaborator on several other projects like His Many Colored Fruit—feels most inspired, honest, and at home.

Tapia chatted with AudioFemme about how their move to Seattle at the end of their twenties launched their songwriting and performing career, and how a vulnerable journal entry turned into a new single for His Many Colored Fruit, “Staring At Facebook till it Makes Me Vomit,”—a sparse, electro-psychedelic departure from Tapia’s typical raw pop-punk.

AF: What is your earliest memory with music? When did you get interested in songwriting?

JT: I was like 7 years old and I was watching Star Search and there was this girl doing a song and she used vibrato and it blew my mind. I thought I could do that and I started doing vibrato. It made me sound more professional and people noticed. People thought it sounded good and though I felt shy [about singing in front of others] I started doing choir.

AF: Who and what are your musical inspirations? Why do you love them?

JT: I’m always trying to recreate the music I listened to in my most impressionable years; there’s always an aspect of that in my songwriting. I listened to a lot of grunge and anything that was on the radio in 1996. But, if I were to pick inspiration for what I am doing nowadays, I’d choose The Pixies, Weezer, and Nirvana, as well as what I call “melody masters” like Billy Joel, John Linnell from They Might Be Giants, or Regina Spektor. Melody is really important to me—it’s a cornerstone to my songwriting approach.

AF: I know you’re originally from L.A. Why’d you move to Seattle and what does the Seattle scene bring to your music?

JT: I’m actually from Culver City, which is basically L.A. except it has its own school district. In other words, you grow up with the same people and families. I moved up here when I was 29 because I felt I couldn’t thrive there. When you grow up around the same people your whole life it’s hard to figure out who you are without out other people’s impression of you influencing your own view of yourself. I felt very boxed in.

AF: Did Seattle change your music?

JT: Seattle changed everything—there’s definitely a grunge influence that I really responded to that shaped a lot of what I do in my music and in my style. Plus, I was able to move up here and start doing whatever I wanted—people respond to that sincerity very well up here.

AF: Tell me about your primary group, Rat Queen. How’d you start? What are your goals with that project?

JT: Rat Queen started when I had Daniel Derosiers of His Many Colored Fruit join me on the drums at a solo show I was doing in south Seattle. I had no intentions of starting a band but the show went so well and Daniel and I had so much fun we decided to join forces that very evening. We came up with Rat Queen because I had an idea for a song that I was going to call “Queen of the Rats” and Daniel said—let’s just be called Rat Queen. It miraculously wasn’t taken so we registered all social media right then and there.

AF: I know Daniel is an important part of Rat Queen. What did his move to L.A. last year mean for you as a musician, for Rat Queen, and for other projects you and Daniel do together?

JT: It’s really hard on me for Daniel to be gone. I’m not as prolific without a songwriting partner and finding a partner you mesh with is hard to come by. However, since he’s moved it has been business as usual – he sends me song ideas and I work on finding melodies for them. Or, I’ll form full songs and he’ll make them cooler. He’s still very much present in the band in that way. Also, Evan and Michael, Rat Queen’s bassist and drummer who both live in Seattle, have brought so much raucous talent and personality to the band that I feel this is the strongest iteration of Rat Queen yet. And, Daniel’s joining us on tour this summer on rhythm guitar. I’m so stoked to have the gang back together!

AF: You have the best posters for Rat Queen shows. Who is the artist? Are they local?

JT: It’s really important to me to try and hire as many local artists and I can and I’m very lucky to be friends with a lot of artists who are willing to do work for me. So, every poster that you see from us is commissioned. Most of my art work is done by Kalee Choiniere, who just does the weirdest stuff and I’m in love with it. I also go through Dax Edword and of course, Ana Von Huben who did our logo and all the cover artwork for the most recent Rat Queen album Worthless. I’ve even gotten into having a makeup artist, Leighla Jellouli, for my Razor Clam shows. Not everyone can afford it, I know, but a lot of local artists will be willing to turn something around quickly for a small fee. It’s definitely worth it—and it’s good for different communities to support each other.

Poster by Kalee Choiniere

AF: Tell me about this single you just released by His Many Colored Fruit. Daniel is also in this group, correct?

JT: His Many Colored Fruit is Daniel’s group—he’s been doing it for a while as a side recording project that he didn’t really have big intentions for, and it wasn’t until a couple years ago that he asked me to join officially.  It started with him just getting advice for certain songs from me and that blossomed into more of a partnership.

AF: And the journal entry that the newest His Many Colored Fruit single, “Staring at Facebook Until I Vomit”—what spurred it? It definitely has a different vibe than your more raw, punk-influenced Rat Queen tunes.

JT: It’s a different sound from Rat Queen because Daniel has a vision for that project and takes point on that project, whereas I tend to take point more on Rat Queen. This most recent single, called “Staring at Facebook till it Makes Me Vomit,” came about because I sometimes dramatically share my journal entries on Facebook. I shared this entry publicly because I liked how the writing turned out and Daniel took it and made something from it. I didn’t really know he was working with it, he just sent me something one day with his vocals and said “Hey, I just reworked this, I hope that’s okay.”

AF: What about Razor Clam? I saw you recently had your 1-year “Clamiversary” with the band. Has your time with them influenced your other projects?

JT: Yeah, I started playing in Razor Clam a little over a year ago. We’re a pop-goth glam band. I’m the lead guitarist in Razor Clam and that’s really pushed me into becoming a better soloist and musician. It’s really inspired me to be louder and unapologetic about the person that I am. They’ve definitely helped me take more risks in my other projects.

AF: I’ve noticed you taking risks, too, and getting more vulnerable in your music. What makes you feel brave?

JT: That’s something I’ve been working on lately. It’s something that I do push myself to do—to be honest and straightforward in the way that I write my lyrics. I’ve found, as the years go by, that being yourself is actually is important—just like they told us. Being myself and dressing cool makes me feel brave.

AF: Is there a place in Seattle that you like to go for inspiration? Or that makes you feel centered and ready to write?

JT: Home. I’m a homebody at heart. If I know I can brew a cup of coffee and hang out on my patio, I can get to place I need to in order to complete a project.

AF: Do you have a songwriting process? What’s it like?

JT: I don’t know if I have one. Like I said, I write best with a partner. Going to show and seeing what other people are up to really gets my creativity going.

AF: On that note, who are you listening to in the Seattle scene right now?

JT: I’m on a tape label called Den Tapes, and almost all my favorite local bands are on it: Choke the Pope, Happy Times Sad Times, Mud On My Bra and so many others. Lately, I’ve really been into Sleepover Club and Velvet Q. There are so, so many, though!

PLAYING SEATTLE: The Black Tones Prep Cobain and Cornbread LP

Photo by L. Mckill

Brother and sister rock ‘n’ roll duo The Black Tones are all about rewriting Seattle rock history, and playing their asses off in the process. Their latest LP, Cobain and Cornbread, draws on the Seattle music and cultural aesthetic but puts the diversity and innovation back into the style. As the newest host of KEXP’s Audioasis, lead guitarist and singer Eva Walker is tasked with keeping a finger on fresh Seattle sounds, and says representing marginalized voices is her main priority in her new role. But even before that, Eva and her twin Cedric, who plays drums in the band, took every opportunity – in interviews, on stage, and in their music and lyrics – to point out POC contributions to rock ‘n’ roll, all too often forgotten now that the genre is dominated by mostly white musicians.

Ahead of The Black Tones’ release show at Chop Suey for Cobain and Cornbread, Eva chatted with Audiofemme about the upcoming album and what it’s like to see some of her wildest dreams – like working for KEXP and opening for Thunderpussy – come true.

AF: Did you and your brother play music together as kids?

EW: I mean we played with toys? But, we didn’t start playing music together until after Cedric saw me play at a Folklife Festival performance in 2008. Then, I started giving him drum lessons.

AF: Did that lead to The Black Tones?

EW: There would basically be no Black Tones without Cedric. He saw me perform and was like “she needs a band, she needs someone to back her up.” He wanted to do it.

AF: So what did the timeline look like—when did the band form?

EW: We started drum lessons on our birthday in 2008—and we did that for a summer and then that fall we started The Black Tones. We’ve had member changes since then—the most consistency in the band is me and Cedric. We’ve decided, “You know, it’s me and you and we’ll just hire people to play with us.” We are the closest and most reliable to each other.

AF: Like Steely Dan.

EW: Haha, yeah!

AF: What were some goals you had for Black Tones when you started the band?

EW: Just to play together and have music and hope that some people would like it. Cedric was newish to the [Seattle] music scene, but I had been doing it for a while so I knew a little bit more about the scene. I mean, I knew about KEXP and would often be like “Man, it’d be cool to do that.” I remember being like—if we play on KEXP one time I’ll be happy. It never has to happen again. And then, we got into rotation and then I got hired to be DJ. But, in the beginning it was more about playing shows and enjoying ourselves. And it’s been going really good!

AF: You mentioned having a little knowledge of the local community – what role does Seattle play in getting The Black Tones established?

EW: Yeah, there are a lot of successful people coming out of Seattle that have been so supportive and awesome to us. I mean, I had a friend who did lights for Mary Lambert and she asked me, “Do you know Thunderpussy?” When I got home I looked them up and was like—these girls are so cool! It’d be so cool to play with them, but it’ll never happen, blah blah blah, you know.

And then we actually got to [play together], and at the freakin’ Showbox on New Year’s Eve of all places! They said that when they were looking for someone to open for them at The Showbox they kept coming back to The Black Tones. I was like, “Are you guys freakin’ kidding me? That’s so goddamn flattering, you guys don’t even know!” I didn’t even know we had their attention or anyone else’s! It’s hard to see when you’re on the other side.

AF: I think people also struggle to see around the stereotypical definition of rock n’ roll. What are some misconceptions about rock ‘n’ roll that you like to set straight?

EW: I don’t do it as much as I used to—mostly because I’ve said a lot of this stuff in interviews and I think people got it—but [when I share my perspective on black history in rock] it’s  mostly coming from the past [when] I was being told “it’s so white that you like rock ‘n’ roll music,” or “you’re like the whitest black girl I know.” So, it was just me combating all those things I was told because, that’s a lie.

Everyone thinks that rock history is this —it’s Elvis or whatever. I think it’s really interesting. I read this interview where George Clinton mentions how white rock radio stations don’t play all-black rock bands.  They had to funk-ify themselves to get notoriety. I don’t know what it is about an all-black rock band that weirds out white rockers or white radio stations. I mean, we’ve been called a soul band and R&B—and I’m like, dude, we fuckin’ just play rock ‘n’ roll.

AF: Tell me about the new album Cobain and Cornbread. What are some underlying themes that drive it?

EW: We’re very family-oriented, so that helped inspire the name. We were at a show in Bellingham and someone asked “what’s your sound?” and I was describing the sound. I was like we’re full-blown Northwesterners, we were all born here, but my mom and everyone else is from the south—Louisiana. So as Northerners raised by Southerners, we’re sort of a hybrid of soul and rebellion. Sort of like the combination of Kurt Cobain and cornbread! Literally that night we were like, “oooh, that’s going to be the name of the record.”

AF: Why Cobain—is Nirvana near and dear to you?

EW: I love Nirvana, don’t get me wrong, but if I were to choose “my” grunge band—I’m an Alice in Chains girl. But “Layne Staley and Cornbread” doesn’t really roll off the tongue. And so, the name “Cobain and Cornbread” is supposed to represent more mascots—like when you think about Seattle in the ’90s and grunge, you think of Kurt Cobain even though me and some other friends think that Jimi Hendrix is the original founder of grunge. But I mean, “Hendrix and Cornbread”? A lot of times, when people think of Hendrix they think of Seattle’s music but they don’t think of the aesthetic of the Northwest—that’s more Cobain with the flannels and the long hair. So it was more about the aesthetic.

AF: What about the cornbread part? How does that connect to the South for you?

EW: When we think of the south, we think of soul food. Those people can eat and cook!  So,  I wanted to have some sort of a food meaning.

AF: Are there southern music influences on the album?

EW: There’s definitely blues influence in our music and writing in general. With our family being Southern it sneaks itself in there.

AF: Did you both write the songs on Cobain and Cornbread?

EW: I had a lot of the songs pre-written before I gave Cedric drum lessons. So, after he got lessons I said – “Hey, want to try this song?” But, even though I usually write the lyrics, I would say that it’s always a collaboration, as far as like when we start jamming and stuff. However, I would give more credit to Cedric for our song “The Key of Black.” He initiated that drum rhythm.

AF: What sets this release apart, in your eyes, from your last release?

EW: This one is more representative of the current band sound and what we are. And working with Jack Endino as a producer was the icing on the cake because he made some of these songs sound way better than I thought they would sound. He has such a scientific ear—I don’t even know if that makes sense— but he’s like a chemist behind a soundboard.

AF: Tell me a little about your new position at KEXP?

EW: So, I saw that Audioasis was looking for a new DJ. And originally, my fiancée Jake Uitti was looking at the job and then decided “Nah, I’m not going to do it.” Then, I was talking to a friend, and they were like “DO IT!” But I kept putting it off and I was like, they’re not going to hire me. I decided on the last day of applications to submit mine. They called me and asked to do an interview and I freaking hate job interviews. I guess they liked me though because they hired me!

AF: What happened when you found out?

EW: They called me while I was at Doe Bay playing a festival, and they were like “We want to give you the job!” And I was like “Aaahh, really?” And I couldn’t tell anyone for three weeks. Like, how do you keep that a secret? You’re the new host of Audioasis on KEXP, responsible for finding new artists!

AF: What are your goals with the show?

EW: I’ve been trying to highlight more underrepresented voices—and that’s in the POC community and in the transgender community, or wherever else. I did an episode for Womxn’s Day, and I had all POC and transgender women—voices who felt like they haven’t been heard. So, I’ve been doing things like that, and honestly, trying to play more genres. We’ve got enough indie rock here to last us—so I’ve been trying to get more hip hop music, more country music, and I need to do a better job with reggae and metal. I honestly want to play everything because I think the Pacific Northwest is more than this indie rock thing with some electronic stuff. There’s way more to it than that.

I’m also trying to get into prisons, because I think that’s an underrepresented population and my dad was in prison. My dad said that music helped him bridge the gap between sanity and isolation.  I want to go into prisons and record some of the work they’ve done, stuff like that. Talk about an underrepresented population—like, all the stuff we talked about like human rights, sexual assault, racism applies to them. The prison population can’t really defend themselves, and who makes up most of the prison population unjustly? POC people. It’s a population I feel a responsibility for reaching out to… and they’re supposed to be [in] rehabilitation, or correctional facilities.

AF: When can people listen to Audioasis?

EW: Saturdays from 6pm to 9pm live and people can stream it around the world at KEXP.org.

AF: How about Cobain and Cornbread? When can we hear the whole album?

EW: April 11th is the release show for Cobain and Cornbread at Chop Suey, and we have Page Turner and Black End opening for us. They’re all groups fronted by black females. They’re all pretty new so we thought—why not take the time to introduce some new artists? Then, the album officially drops on Friday, April 12th.

PLAYING SEATTLE: Guitarist and songwriter Ings Preps New LP and SXSW Shows

As you wander from Cafe Racer to SoDo punk venue to University District house show, Ings, a contemplative guitarist and songwriter with a subtle touch on the guitar, is bound to be somewhere in the mix—likely (and hopefully) sharing her slow-simmering pop songs from behind her signature yellow glasses. With two mellow-yet-poignant EPs under her belt — 2014’s Slaughterhouse-Five and 2016’s Afterthought—Ings is touring extensively this Spring with her band and gearing up to play her first-ever SXSW as an official artist. She’s also bracing to release a new full-length, out later this year.

Recently, she chatted with AudioFemme about her favorite mantras, the key to patience, and her deep love for the DIY community in Seattle. Read on for the full interview.

AF: Tell me a little bit about your background? How’d you get into music?

Ings: I took piano lessons as a kid, and my mom rented a lot of musicals for me and my sister. I would make up a lot of songs. When I was 7, my brother played Ben Folds’ “Philosophy” for me on the stereo, and my mind exploded. I’ve been a deep Ben Folds Five/Ben Folds fan ever since. I started playing guitar when I was 14, and wrote a song for English class. Then I started playing gigs around town and played in some bands—that sort of thing.

AF: You’e not originally from Seattle, though you may as well be a local now. Why did you move out here?

I: I’m from Springfield, Missouri. I moved because the community is wonderful, and I loved [local band] Heatwarmer, and wanted to take guitar/composition lessons from the lead person, Luke Bergman.

AF: How long has Ings been around as a group?

I: My sister calls me Ings, I started performing with that name about 7 years ago. 

AF: Who are you most inspired by?

I: People who demonstrate self-compassion. And, of course, the 6 B’s: Björk, Beyoncé, Blake Mills, The Beatles, The Beach Boys, and, of course, Ben Folds. Also, George Gershwin. 

AF: You make great playlists on Spotify—I listen to them all the time. I especially love this month’s playlist, “Patience.” When and why did you start doing that?

I: Because I believe that songs are like software for your mind, it follows that creating a playlist with a certain emotion in mind will facilitate feeling that emotion. Also, because the universe is chaos and right and wrong are relative is important to me to be able to make choices about how I will decide to feel about any given situation and sometimes music can encourage me to be in a more productive, heightened, emotionally intelligent mindset.

AF: Why did you choose patience as a theme? I’m definitely not a patient person—ha! Is patience something you struggle with cultivating?

I: I believe in giving yourself space to grow and change and improve. Part of that space is mental and emotional, but there’s also an aspect of temporal space: giving yourself permission to wait for things and trust that your intention will bring about what you are working towards. In that vein, here’s a limerick:

Because life is unfolding at a constant rate,
and can’t be hurried for worrying’s sake,
you may as well embrace your fate,
And grant a little -ience of pate.

AF: Ha, I love a good limerick! I also loved your last release, Afterthought. Are you working on a new release as Ings?

I: Yes, I have a new album! I’m currently looking for a label. I really really want to release it this year. 

AF: You have ties with labels but you seem to thrive on being independent and DIY. How does the Seattle DIY music community feed your music? What about it draws you in?

I: Barsuk do my licensing/publishing. But other than that, I don’t have a label yet. Even though I produce and write my own music, I definitely flourish in community. I think community is why a lot of people in America are lonely. I think community is as important as water. I do not know where or who I would be without this scene. It’s a “before you came into my life I missed you so bad” kind of thing. I am my realized self at this moment because our scene here in Seattle is so vibrant and supportive.

AF: Do you write while on tour? Is it a creative time for you?

I: I feel so much joy on tour from seeing people and meeting people and jumping in the ocean and stuff! So I feel inspired, but I don’t have much time to sit down and record demos. I take lots of notes, and honor each melody that appears in my mind by recording it in my phone, and then assemble them later.

AF: You recently announced that you’ll be at SXSW this year as an official artist. What does that mean to you?

I: I applied to SXSW every year for a few years and was rejected every time, so it’s nice to officially be part of it this year, while still doing some unofficial showcases. It seems like they are booking more DIY bands and more of my friends’ bands, which I’m really happy to see. So many of my favorite people will be there, I look forward to the joy of being together.

AF: Your songs very often feel like a meditation on a specific mood or feeling or mantra. Do you have a favorite quote or line of philosophy that is guiding your life right now?

I: I started meditating about nine months ago, and it has changed my life. I have a small “menu” of meditative phrases that have occurred to me over this period, the latest one of which is: “I have everything I need.”

Follow Ings on Facebook and Twitter, and check her out live at one of her dates below.

TOUR DATES

3/5 – Silverton, OR @ Oak Street Church // RSVP
3/6 – Eugene, OR @ Spectrum // RSVP
3/7 – Arcata, CA @ Outer Space // RSVP
3/8 – San Francisco, CA @ Fortress Callosum // RSVP
3/9 – Los Angeles, CA @ Junior High // TICKETS // RSVP
3/11 – Joshua Tree, CA @ The Beatnik // RSVP
3/12 – Phoenix, AZ @ House Show
3/13 – Las Cruces, NM @ Eyeconik Records // RSVP
3/15 – Austin, TX @ 4:15 PM, MIDCOAST TAKEOVER, Shangri-La // RSVP
3/15 – Austin, TX @ 7:00 PM, FEMME FRIDAY SHOWCASE, Hops and Grain // RSVP
3/18 – Springfield, MO @ The Outland TICKETS // RSVP
3/19 – Kansas City, MO @ Mills Record Co. // RSVP
3/21 – St. Louis, MO @ FOAM // RSVP
3/22 – Chicago, IL @ House Show // RSVP
3/23 – Minneapolis, MN @ House Show // RSVP
3/24 – Bismarck, ND @ House Show** // RSVP
3/26 – Missoula, MT @ Hockey House // RSVP
3/27 – Spokane, WA @ Baby Bar // RSVP
3/28 – Moscow, ID @ House Show
4/27 – Vancouver, Canada @ The Cultch // TICKETS // RSVP

 

PLAYING SEATTLE: Tacocat Celebrate Friendship and Sub Pop Signing with “Grains of Salt”

Effervescent pop-punk band Tacocat released their new single, “Grains of Salt,” on Valentine’s Day, complete with a colorful music video featuring prominent members of the Seattle drag community. “Grains of Salt” is the first single teasing their third full-length album This Mess is a Place—following 2014’s NVM and 2016’s Lost Time—due out in May and currently available for pre-order.

Tacocat has a history of writing addictive hooks as palpably gleeful and upbeat as they are insightful into the long-term, close-knit friendship between the band members—singer Emily Nokes, bassist Bree McKenna, guitarist Eric Randall, and drummer Lelah Maupin. “Grains of Salt” is no exception. Nokes explains that “Grains of Salt” is about “being a good friend to yourself, turning off the external bullshit for a bit, landing the backflip, and just generally taking yourself back… Loving or even liking yourself can be really hard work, and wondering what is ‘normal’ in comparison to whatever else becomes such a drag. This was just a sweet reminder to myself, and to everyone.”

Keen to capture that vibe visually, the music video for the song puts playful self-acceptance, humility, and their love for each other and their community on full display. Lending a hefty dose of glamour and glitter to the mix are some of Seattle’s brightest drag stars, including Irene Dubois, Cherdonna Shinatra, Cucci Binaca, Connie Merlot, Mermosa, Umlaut, Dion Dior Black, and Beau Degas. Tacocat is in their element – a party where they can dance like no one is watching.

“We never wanted [the band] to be something that jeopardized our friendship or our understanding of one another’s needs,” said Nokes. “We’ve all had super high points and super low points and taking care of each other is what comes first; like any long-term relationship, having that empathy, tenacity, and deep respect for one another is what makes it work. We’re basically family at this point and are in the unique position to understand each other’s experiences in a way not many other people can—we’ve grown up together in this. And our mantra is: We’ll stop doing it when it stops being fun.”

“Grains of Salt” is also unexpected in some ways, too. Though upbeat, it feels slightly more melancholic and self-reflective than past releases.  For instance, in the first verse, Nokes sings, “Wasting so much time/Only knowing doubt/Falling in a line/Only facing out/What do they even know?/Gotta let it go.”

Nokes says that darker vibe is a reflection of the hard time in which they wrote and recorded the album. “This was our first post-election album so it was obviously a pretty jarring time to try and even begin the process of… well, processing,” she said. “I didn’t really want to make it super sad or super angry—even though those are such valid emotions—but even those emotions were hard to access under all the numb. Personally, I felt awful for a lot of different reasons, the world felt awful, all my friends and community were just in such rough shape it felt weird to try and express anything, or be creative at all. But, like every art or writing project for me, I have to come at it like it’s a riddle or a puzzle to solve, and just work on it, or give it space, until it clicks.”

Despite the rough timing, “Grains of Salt” is noticeably more polished and produced than any of their other tracks. Nokes’ voice projects confidently and smoothly and is mixed even more out-front than on 2016’s Lost Time. This is a nod to their brilliant producer, Erik Blood, and to finding a way to warm up her voice well, Nokes said.

“On Lost Time we were just getting to know Erik, and now I feel lucky to count him as a close friend,” Nokes said. “That familiarity was really helpful… just knowing that I could get in there and do my thing and not feel as nervous or shy or intimidated or dumb really helped build confidence.”

One notable moment in the video also helps announce some more of the band’s good news—guitarist Eric Randall does an understated jig in a Sub Pop sweatshirt. It’s a sort of shout-out to their new deal with the legendary Seattle label, which was announced along with the release of the single.

“We grew up on Hardly Art—I think we were signed to the label in 2012—and have been so proud to watch the label flourish. We love them. But in some ways it just felt natural to check out what the next step might be,” said Nokes. “We’ve worked hard, we’ve been doing this a long time, and getting signed to Sub Pop was a dream I could have never imagined when we first started this band!”

In this way, “Grains of Salt” is a reminder of what can happen when you find and hold on to your individuality—and your friends—as you unfold and evolve. It all rings especially true at the song’s climax, when Nokes belts, “Don’t forget to remember who the fuck you are.”

This Mess is a Place is out May 3 via Sub Pop. Check out “Grains of Salt” below and catch Tacocat on tour around the US in May and June.

TACOCAT 2019 TOUR DATES

5/9 – St. Paul, MN @ Turf Club
5/10 – Milwaukee, WI @ Cactus Club
5/11 – Chicago, IL @ Lincoln Hall
5/12 – Grand Rapids, MI @ The Pyramid Scheme
5/13 – Pittsburgh, PA @ Club Cafe
5/15 – Cambridge, MA @ The Sinclair
5/17 – Brooklyn, NY @ Music Hall of Williamsburg
5/18 – Philadelphia, PA @ Boot & Saddle
5/19 – Washington, D.C. @ U Street Music Hall
5/21 – Durham, NC @ The Pinhook
5/22 – Atlanta, GA @ The Drunken Unicorn
5/23 – Nashville, TN @ The High Watt
5/24 – St. Louis, MO @ Off Broadway
5/25 – Kansas City, MO @ The Record Bar
6/8 – Seattle, WA @ The Showbox at the Market
6/12 – Spokane, WA @ The Bartlett
6/13 – Boise, ID @ Neurolux
6/14 – Salt Lake City, UT @ Kilby Court
6/15 – Denver, CO @ Larimer Lounge
6/17 – Dallas, TX @ Club Dada
6/18 – Houston, TX @ White Oak Music Hall
6/19 – Austin, TX @ Barracuda
6/21 – Sante Fe, NM @ Meow Wolf
6/22 – Phoenix, AZ @ Valley Bar
6/23 – San Diego, CA @ The Casbah
6/25 – Los Angeles, CA @ The Bootleg Theater
6/26 – San Francisco, CA @ The Chapel
6/28 – Portland, OR @ Aladdin Theater

PLAYING SEATTLE: Parisalexa Lets Anger Burn Bright on New Single “Hothead”

(Photo by Victoria Holt)

On Feb. 4, Seattle singer-songwriter-producer Parisalexa dropped a blistering new single, “Hothead.” The track, both defiantly relevant and subtly creative, takes the confidence Parisalexa had on display with her last two releases to new heights.

“Hothead” is perhaps one of Parisalexa’s most straight-forward pop releases. Rihanna and Ariana Grande come to mind upon listening—as Parisalexa mixes up something that’s a little-bit trap, a little-bit Erykah Badu—with lyrics that point toward a larger conversation about the injustices in today’s world.

As the single starts, Parisalexa sings, “I don’t really give a fuck/Feeling like I had enough/You don’t wanna start that shit with me,” and as she sings silkily, “you got me so hot,” the subject seems like an object of sexual desire. After all, both anger and sex are equated with passion, and Parisalexa’s vocal delivery teases at that dual meaning.

But, then we arrive at the chorus: “I feel like I’m/ Pissed off/ Shadow boxing.” This part seems to introduce another invisible, elusive challenger, and as her synth-y beat escalates, it feels much greater than a single individual. And when a snare beat repeats like rapid gunfire in rapper Laza’s verse, it seems to imply her eyes are looking to broader themes.

In this way, Parisalexa joins the larger national conversation in pop music about anger—at sexism, racism, facism, or just plain old ugliness in the world—which has been a more palpable undercurrent in recent hits from top pop artists like Kendrick Lamar, Beyonce, Justin Bieber, and Solange. (The song “Mad” from her smash 2016 album A Seat at the Table, couldn’t be a better example).

But Parisalexa said that when she looks back, she can’t remember what made her so furious.

“The process of writing ‘Hothead’ was pretty spontaneous,” she said. “My producer, Elan, and I were in the studio and I’d come in a bit irritated that day, so we decided to write about it. I started the first line with ‘I don’t really give a fuck’ and from there, I just let the words kind of spill out. Almost all the lyrics just came out in the moment from the pure emotion of being pissed off. Now, I actually don’t even remember why I was so mad. But I just knew how perfectly the explosiveness of the beat at the hook would lend itself to the song’s overall sentiment.”

Sure enough, “Hothead” ebbs and flows with Parisalexa’s slow-burning rage—and it’s intoxicating. It’s a space for listeners to finally release any heat of their own.

PLAYING SEATTLE: Three Eclectic Releases for the New Year

For me, the new year signals a time to refresh, and that also goes for my music collection. This is when I dig through Bandcamp, attend shows with bands I’ve never heard of on the bill, and get recommendations from friends in the know. Here are three off-the-beaten path local releases I’ve discovered in the new year.

photo by Seth Halleran

SmackTalk – Servin’ It Hot (out March 7)

Saxophone-fronted collective SmackTalk is the brainchild of Sidney Hauser, a brilliant Seattle-bred saxophonist and songwriter whose funky, angular, and soulful compositions have, in the case of Seattle jazz, exploded expectations about what sort of music is made in Seattle and who can make it. Through songcraft, musicianship, and bold authenticity, Servin’ it Hot makes me single-handedly optimistic for the future of Seattle’s music scene.

Hauser, a graduate of the University of Washington, brings together a band of talented Seattle twentysomethings on the EP, proving that jazz isn’t just for baby boomers. But also, SmackTalk is far from purist about jazz – while Hauser definitely draws on her background in jazz harmony and improvisation, her compositions bring in funk energy, the tender sensuality of neo-soul, the exploratory nature of creative music, and the addictive quality of earworm pop melodies and digital effects.

On “Beams,” the album’s only vocal track, singer Emma Horton’s smooth, dexterous voice pours forth like honey, accented by soaring moments from the saxophone section – Hauser, Natalie Barry on alto and tenor— playing in artfully-arranged harmony.

“Tidal,” the third song on the five-song album, starts by featuring these saxophonists with a sort of cheerful, churning pattern that steadily swirls, bringing the rest of the band into its grasp. Interesting synth and saxophone moments add energy and excitement to the piece, which feels like a climbing wave, eventually cresting in a funky solo section that spotlights the solidity of the rhythm section’s interlocking groove.

Each song on Servin’ It Hot works this way—starting in familiar space and then pushing past expectations, offering some really new and fresh sounds for the city. Only SmackTalk’s second release, Servin’ It Hot is unabashedly brave, capturing Hauser’s growth as an improviser, songwriter, and band leader, and underscoring the work SmackTalk are doing to find their own voice as a band.

Servin’ It Hot drops in early March. For more details visit SmackTalk on Bandcamp.

photo by Jason Trinkle

Annie Ford Band – At Night (out February 8)

Annie Ford is the sort of artist one can literally stumble upon while walking the streets of Pike Place Market, where she has been a busker for a decade. But she’s no forgettable distraction for a passerby. She sings as if she’s having a candid conversation, and she draws her listener into a secret with humor, pep, and charm.

That’s how it goes with her newest release At Night, which drips with flavors of country, klezmer, folk, and even a little bit of psychedelia. It proves that Ford, and her co-songwriter Matt Manges, have further-honed their talent for original folk songs unlike any others found in the Seattle-area.

On this new album, it’s clear Ford and the band are feeling in limbo. On “Ain’t No Place,” she’s a woman leaving Mississippi for the unknown; on “Demon Lover,” she forsakes a husband and three children for a new man; on “Restless Dreams” she walks a tightrope into a world suspended from time. With this in mind, the album mirrors Seattle’s present crisis of identity, a product of the ripple effects it has on the individual identities of the people who live here.

This sort of tension comes up lyrically, as well as musically. Additions like the other-worldly whine of Olie Eshlemen’s pedal steel and the bestial rumble of Ivan Molton’s baritone sax imply the sort of strange, liminal state that the Annie Ford Band contends with.

Overall, Ford and the band have more of a fierceness than ever before on At Night. A big part of that is Ford’s crisp, resolute, and honest vocals, hanging in the foreground without facade or effect. Ford isn’t playing tricks on her audience – she’s bracing them for transit.

At Night drops February 8th. For more details visit Annie Ford Band on Bandcamp.

photo by Kyle Todaro

Antonioni – The Odds Were All Beating Me (out now)

Antonioni may as well be a meteor out of nowhere. The Odds Were All Beating Me, released January 12th, is Antonioni’s first in two years, and only their second EP ever—but it’s a formidable ball of indie-rock fire. While they exhibit that grunge-punk quality that lives inside much of the music from this area, lead singer Sarah Pasillas – whose lilting, ethereal voice recalls Sinead O’Connor, Bjork, and Enya – brings a dreamier vibe to their music.

“Snow Globe” features this aspect of Pasillas’ voice prominently, making her the foreground to a thunderhead of odd sounds – coins falling to the floor, a person talking into a seashell, a Tibetan singing bowl. Her voice arises from the controlled mess.

The EP’s first track, “Creature Feature,” designates Antonioni as part of the same contemporary scene that’s birthed other currently-popular indie bands like Great Grandpa and Dude York: taking the mumble-singing, a raw guitar sound, and feeling of encompassing dreariness that Nirvana made big, and invigorating it. Antionioni make it a bit lighter by adding more upbeat pop diversions and effects. “Old News,” on the other hand, almost sounds like the Cranberries—Pasillas sings assertively, with turns and inflections like Dolores O’Riordan, while the repetitious guitar pattern has the same sort of jangling, broken-sounding chords that Cranberries’ lead guitarist Noal Hogan mastered.

The album is an interesting snapshot of Seattle, torn as it is between so many different moments in the scene’s musical history and looking for a place to rest. With Antonioni, the city may have found a band with which they can sit and stay awhile.