Episode 10 marks a couple of big firsts for me. This was the occasion of my first visit to Seattle, which was surprisingly sunny and blue-sky laden in spite of its grey cloudy reputation. It was also the first time I met the members of the Purrs in person, after having continuously enjoyed the band’s 2007 album, The Chemistry That Keeps Us Together, ever since it was sent my way by my Performer Magazine editor.
When I arrived in Seattle, I got a good impression right from stepping off the plane into the airport. It was 9-ish in the morning, and much to my delight, I was able to score a cup of delicious shrimp cocktail without having to wait till the lunch hour. It’s the little things, you know?
Despite having accidentally taken the bus in the wrong direction from the airport, I still had plenty of time to get acquainted with downtown Seattle, which at 11:30am was still pretty dead, particularly around the U.S. Bank shopping mall at 5th and Pike. I lunched on a bread bowl filled with lobster bisque from Soup’s On, and then proceeded to gorge on a toffee almond bar, a slice of pumpkin loaf and a cup of chai from one of the two Starbucks’ inside the mall. It seemed like there was a Starbucks on nearly every block of the city. (more…)
My research skills were not at their best the night I first saw Le Switch perform live. At some point during the show at San Francisco’s Hotel Utah on October 25, 2008, frontman Aaron Kyle began to sing a song that sounded awfully familiar. Yet it was not a cover, that much I could tell. But how could that be? I haven’t heard anything else… wait a minute… THE Switch is how I knew them before! How did this not come up in any of my preparations? God, what an idiot.
After Le Switch’s performance at the Hotel Utah, I approached the band’s trumpet player, Maria Deluca. As we talked, she gave me a succinct version of the story behind the changing of the definite article before the band’s name, a story which Aaron spells out in detail in our interview. (more…)
Imagine how maddening it must be to find out that, for the past 20 years, you’ve been ignoring a major voice in the indie universe. And he was right under your nose in ‘96 when that second Sweet Relief compilation, Gravity of the Situation – The Songs of Vic Chesnutt, hit the shelves. Sure, you can be forgiven for allowing the bigger names on the first Sweet Relief (like Pearl Jam and Soul Asylum) cause you to forget that the second one even came out.
But when you keep hearing the name “Vic Chesnutt” pop up in conversation and appear in print pretty regularly over the years, and still you can’t remember whether you’ve even heard the guy before… what kind of insanity is that?
Forget the fact that he’s from Athens, GA. Or that he’s been bound to a wheelchair since an accident he suffered at the age of 18. Or that it was the girl with the guano-covered back who turned you on to this dude’s quietly biting, ironic lyrical sensibility that expresses pain without any need or desire for pity. Or that he’s probably more vital than you are at this very moment. (If you think I’m talking to myself right now, you might be right. But I’ll never tell you one way or the other. Admit it, you love a mystery.) (more…)
Back in February of 2008, I was covering a show at the Hemlock Tavern in San Francisco for West Coast Performer Magazine. I had a friend helping out with photos, and second on the bill was another friend, none other than Chris Robley. Following Chris’ set, I was expecting a full band called Correatown, but what I got instead was a solo acoustic set by one Angela Correa.
Performing either with a band or solo, Angela Correa is Correatown, and as she told stories and exchanged jokes and banter with the audience in between songs at my first Correatown show — even pausing to acknowledge the medium sized red ball bouncing between members of the audience — Angela proved she was much more than just a singer/songwriter/guitarist with some fortunate connections. (more…)
After having said my goodbyes to Evan, Brette and Aaron from the Parson Red Heads, I took to the road to make my next appointment. I was due to meet the Happy Hollows, who I had first heard during the same month I was first introduced to the Parson Red Heads. Sarah Negahdari’s seemingly boundless well of energy meshed so well with the pulsating, borderline-hardcore rhythms of bassist Charlie Mahoney and drummer Chris Hernandez that I had to meet this band.
On the day we shot this interview, there was much excitement in the air. The Happy Hollows were not only preparing for an appearance at Austin’s South by Southwest festival, they had also been feverishly working on recording new songs for an EP to be released in the wake of their SXSW gigs. (more…)
On February 23, 2009, I awoke on Evan and Brette Marie Way’s couch in their living room. It was a sunny L.A. morning, one that would be filled with music geek-out sessions, fruity crepes, friendly house cats, and of course, a fine interview for this very series. In part two of our visit with the Parson Red Heads, Evan, Brette and guitarist Aaron Ballard give a tour of their blissfully communal dwelling, and in the process, solidify the personal exchange that made this one of the key “parlour to parlour” moments of the entire series.
My second day with the Parson Red Heads was considerably calmer than the first, and more in line with their regular vibe. After all, I was now in the home Evan and Brette Marie Way, waking up on their couch and getting ready for a delicious breakfast of sweet, fruity homemade crepes. (more…)
To say that I was looking forward to taking Parlour to Parlour to L.A. would be the understatement of the year. Excitement was high for my visit to the city of angels, for I would be crashing with Evan and Brette Marie Way of the Parson Red Heads, one of the bands that had completely rejuvenated me last year. The couchsurfing aspect of the project began here.
Upon arriving in Los Angeles, I immediately drove over to what has become my favorite landing pad in L.A. – Tsunami Coffee House, on West Sunset Boulevard in the city’s Silver Lake district. It’s quiet, they serve yummy soy chai and desserts, the staff are friendly, and they have free wi-fi. What more could anyone want from a cafe? (more…)
Bill Champlin has a lot to be happy about these days. He’s got a steady gig singing and playing keyboards with Chicago, a spot he’s held since 1982. His solo album No Place Left to Fall, released digitally last year, is finally seeing release as a physical CD this week. He has his first proper solo tour lined up for November along the West Coast. And he’s surrounded by amazing musicians, people he is all too eager to talk up and rave about. Champlin’s enthusiasm is positively infectious, which is something we all could use in this day and age. Not only was Bill generous with his copious good vibes we we phoned him for this interview last Tuesday, he delved into his distant past, at our request, to give us some perspective on the San Francisco music scene where he paid his dues in the Sons of Champlin before going on to co-write the Grammy Award-winning Earth Wind & Fire hit, “After the Love Has Gone,” and racking up further hits with Chicago (”Hard Habit to Break,” “Look Away,” “You’re Not Alone”) and playing on countless other sessions. All the while, Bill has maintained a healthy “other life” with his solo work and occasional Sons reunion gigs, and the benefits clearly come across in this interview.
I’ve really been a big fan since, you know, I guess since I started looking at credits on Chicago records. And I just remember being really, really jealous that I couldn’t come out here on the west coast when you reunited the Sons of Champlin. I was like, ‘oh man, what’s goin’ on here? Why can’t I go see the Sons?’ But now I’m in San Francisco and all is well.
Well, you know, we actually kinda kept doin’ that for about, I mean up until 2005 we’d do, at least once a year we’d do like a three or four week run of just at least weekends with the Sons. And after a while it just got to the point where we pretty much played out our welcome, know what I mean? (more…)
This episode was the third and final shoot for the day on Saturday, February 15. After our session with Eric Kuhn and Robin Landy from Silian Rail in their Oakland practice space, Robin took off as singer/guitarist Jonny Latimer and bassist Andrew Macy arrived. Kuhn was ready for a second round, and I was ready to finally talk to a band I had been admiring from afar for half a year.
I didn’t plan it this way, but the way it happened was such a freaky coincidence that it almost appeared that way. It was almost exactly one year ago (August 6, 2008) that my esteemed colleague Katherine Hoffert presented me with the opportunity to profile The Aimless Never Miss for a spotlight feature in West Coast PerformerMagazine. Alas, I was too busy to take it on, and really felt bummed about it. I loved what I was hearing and wanted to learn more.
Finally meeting the band in the practice space they share with Silian Rail and Built for the Sea in Oakland turned out to be way more fun than the philosophical bent of the band’s lyrics would have suggested. Take, for instance, the song “Bound.” It opens with this provocative verse questioning the worth of grief:
I heard someone talkin’ how their mother died
But what is all the grieving good for
Still millions of people much worse off than we are
So what is all the crying good for?
…and goes on to reason about mortality and its positive side (”if we really were immortal, we’d feel fucking horrible”). (more…)
Immediately after I wrapped the Daniel James interview (which you undoubtedly watched last week) on February 15, the second part of the day began as I made my way to the train to cross the San Francisco Bay into Oakland. My appointment was at a practice space, which turned out to be a more convenient location for everyone than an apartment. Awaiting me there were Robin Landy and Eric Kuhn, the instrumental indie rock duo known as Silian Rail. I had met them on an assignment for Performer Magazine that, due to the company’s restructuring, was never published. I hope this episode can make up for it.
On the night of November 21, 2008, I found myself in the basement performance space of San Francisco’s Retox Lounge, which was decked out with busted guitars, as well as seats and windows salvaged from a commercial airliner. The first band on the bill that night was Silian Rail, a guitar-drums instrumental duo that basically became my new Tristeza and Tortoise all rolled into one from the first tune they played. (more…)
Despite having accidentally taken the bus in the wrong direction from the airport, I still had plenty of time to get acquainted with downtown Seattle, which at 11:30am was still pretty dead, particularly around the U.S. Bank shopping mall at 5th and Pike. I lunched on a bread bowl filled with lobster bisque from Soup’s On, and then proceeded to gorge on a toffee almond bar, a slice of pumpkin loaf and a cup of chai from one of the two Starbucks’ inside the mall. It seemed like there was a Starbucks on nearly every block of the city. (more…)
Imagine how maddening it must be to find out that, for the past 20 years, you’ve been ignoring a major voice in the indie universe. And he was right under your nose in ‘96 when that second Sweet Relief compilation, 
Bill Champlin has a lot to be happy about these days. He’s got a steady gig singing and playing keyboards with Chicago, a spot he’s held since 1982. His solo album 
Finally meeting the band in the practice space they share with Silian Rail and Built for the Sea in Oakland turned out to be way more fun than the philosophical bent of the band’s lyrics would have suggested. Take, for instance, the song “Bound.” It opens with this provocative verse questioning the worth of grief: