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A Life Positive: What we can all learn from Luis Montanez

2007-12-20T13:09:00.000-08:00

(Cover story in the Fairfield Weekly. Dec 20, 2007 )

There was a time in human history when it was common for people to die from a simple cold, and they were even expected to. It only took one step outside without a jacket or one cold night's sleep.

A person living with HIV or AIDS was once equally as fragile. Maybe you'd live for a year, or 10 years, but there was always an expiration date. Since 1981, AIDS has been responsible for the death of over 25 million people around the world. In 2005, the disease took the lives of over 570,000 children. In the U.S., 60 percent of all AIDS cases are minorities (black, Hispanic or Asian)—and in CT that number is 63 percent. The fact that it only takes one slip-up—one pass at sex without a condom or one foggy night's drug-induced error—only enhances the fear that surrounds this still-misunderstood disease.

"Am I going to have this? I repeatedly told myself, 'I don't have it. I don't have it. Am I going to die?'" The question once haunted Luis Montanez, a 24-year old resident of downtown Bridgeport who living with HIV. He tested positive for the virus at 18 after finding out that his boyfriend at the time, with whom he'd recently had unprotected sex, was a carrier of the HIV virus.

We sat in the very doctor's office where Montanez was first tested six years ago, at the Ryan White CARE wing of Optimus Health Care in Bridgeport. "I didn't fear getting tested," he said. "I had to know. I made that decision to have unprotected sex. I made that decision to sleep with him. I thought I loved him. It ate me up inside."

Today, in the U.S., HIV and AIDS have become largely manageable. Because of medical and pharmaceutical advances, thousands of people who contracted HIV like Montanez, have now been deemed "undetectable," meaning their HIV viral loads are so low that they test negative for HIV. They still have the virus, of course, but the medication is able to keep it at bay. Thousands are happily living their lives with HIV.

With the medical advances, however, has come something of a sense of complacency; a reliable treatment is available, but there are many young people who were not around to see the devastation caused by AIDS when it first appeared, and have become somewhat complacent about it.

It's still a scary and life-changing diagnosis. But at some level, the fear lingers because a larger ignorance about the disease lingers.

So powerful is this almost willful ignorance that even some of our leaders remain in the dark ages about it. We live in a country that is taking a long, serious look at a man running for president who has said he wants to quarantine Montanez and anyone else with HIV.

And Iowa loves this man. Arkansas governor Mike Huckabee suggested in 1992 that we "isolate the carriers of this plague," saying that now is "the first time in the history of civilization in which the carriers of a genuine plague have not been isolated from the general public." It's been 15 years and Huckabee has still not publicly changed his stance. In fact, he stated on Dec. 8 that he will not "recant" his remarks.

Huckabee is obviously not helping to de-stigmatize HIV-AIDS. And it's to the detriment of young people in the U.S., many of whom are so afraid to get tested that it has literally become impossible to tell how many teens in U.S. may be carriers of the virus, which makes them the most important AIDS-prone demographic. The reported number of people in the U.S. with HIV or AIDS under-20 for 2005 was just over 2,000, but it is widely recognized that the actual number is much higher than that.

Perhaps not enough is being done to accurately educate young people of the seriousness of HIV and AIDS. Perhaps young people are so afraid to die that they don't want to know that they already have a life-threatening disease, even if it means they can save themselves. Is their sense of invincibility to blame, or is it their ignorance? Or is it something concrete like cowardly health classes in high school?

Montanez doesn't blame anyone. "Learn about it," he says. But he does believe HIV and AIDS patients have the responsibility to open up and inform the public. "We are giving this disease a bad name," Montanez says. "If you look at people with HIV and AIDS, not all people are open about it. Not everyone is coming out with it. If you're open with it and you explain how your life is with it, then people will come to an understanding that this is an illness. It's not a death sentence. If we don't have a loud voice and get out there with our stories, then people are going to be ignorant. They're going to look at it like, 'Well if you're so afraid to talk about it, then why should I be so calm?'"

Montanez is also a diabetic. He can't walk or stand for long periods of time like he could before and he's been unemployed for two years because of it. "I have more fear for my diabetes than I do for my HIV," he said. "The HIV virus I know is under control."

Montanez is one of the lucky ones to be taking only one pill per day. He pays for it every month by showing his Connecticut AIDS Drug Assistance Program (CADAP) card at the pharmacy, a card that's part of a pharmaceutical assistance program that pays for HIV/AIDS medications approved by the FDA. The Department of Social Services administers this program to people living in poverty with the disease. Not everyone is eligible for such a program, but according to published reports, it is currently saving the lives of over 1,339 people in Connecticut and 96,121 people in America as of 2006.

Montanez started on three pills and with the introduction of Atripla, he says it's like taking a vitamin every day. A decade ago, "pill cocktails" were the only way to go. Today there's the one-pill option for some. It has only light side effects and it's easy to swallow, reported Montanez. "I felt dizziness for about two weeks and then the body adjusts and it's a breeze, really," he said. He takes it before bed.

The cocktail is a prescription of a couple dozen pills the patient needs to take at specific times of day with food, no matter how sick they are. Each pill comes with harsh side effects like diarrhea, gas, nausea, heartburn and severe headaches, and there's always the possibility of becoming resistant to one or more of the pills. For some, the cocktail alone was enough to bring on serious depression.

The one-pill miracle has obviously made the treatment aspect of living with HIV and AIDS easier. Because of the stigma, every day is a fight. Physically, the disease is treatable. But mentally, its toll can be unbearable. Montanez talked about his ex-boyfriend's (the one who gave him HIV) ugly struggle with the disease.

"He was the type of person that knew he had this and he didn't care. It was malicious. He had the intention. He was angry at the world and he didn't want to live. I've heard from other people that he knew he had AIDS before he even got tested. But even after he found out for real, he gave it maliciously to other people. This disease is something that can really mess with your mind. Some people take it seriously and take care of themselves, but some people don't care and they hurt anyone they can on top of it. He wanted to bring everyone else down with him."

Montanez has learned from this part of his life that any time spent not being honest with yourself (or others) is time wasted. He's seen the drugs, he's seen the death, and he's still dealing with depression. (His CADAP card covers mental-health appointments and medication, too.) He hasn't turned to alcohol like so many of his friends, but he said his cigarette and marijuana habits have been known to jump considerably during hard times. His 2008 New Year's resolution is to cut them both out of his life.

"So many people turn to drugs when this happens," he said. "They really don't care. They just want to go. I have friends with HIV and AIDS who are on crack cocaine who had never done it before." Though its physical effects can be debilitating, Montanez has come to the realization that you must never ignore the deep, dark psychological side of HIV.

"I've been through the self-mutilation," he said. "People ask if it's because of HIV and I say 'no.' I'm sitting here looking at people who have relationships, people who are married. And I look at my life and I have to sit here and explain to every guy I meet, this is who I am. This is what I have. I'm HIV positive."

Being honest with yourself is one thing, but it's the daily tests. Montanez is young, he still wants to date and be social. "If you want to be trusted," he said, "you deal with it and you tell them, you say 'I feel deep within me that I need to tell you this. I'm not going to hide this from you, this is something serious." He said that not everyone responds in a kind way, and that he needs to be the bigger person. "I look at them and I say, 'Thank you for being honest with me, but please give me a chance.' But they're scared of me. They automatically zone you out sometimes."

He said, "You're going to get depressed, you're going to get miserable and you're going to feel like the world is over. You'll feel like you have nothing to live for, but you do."

Montanez goes out regularly to dance clubs—Gotham in New Haven, Cedar Brook Cafe in Westport—to socialize with friends and he's even had sex with a guy he dated for a few months who didn't have HIV. He says all this is a testament to being honest with himself and everyone around him. His dedication to mental health has brought him his physical health.

"I do everything that I used to do. This doesn't deprive you of anything. You deprive yourself. If you want to look miserable, if you want to be miserable with it, then that's all on you." He even went so far as to compare HIV to paying the bills. "What are you going to do? Depress yourself because your bills aren't paid? No, because then it gets worse. You're going to work at it. You're going to work until that's paid off and you're relaxed and comfortable. And then it's, 'OK, I have that done, what's next?'"

"I don't feel any different than I did before," Montanez said with a smile, "other than I do have it. It is in my system, I do have it. I'm living to fear the world instead. What we're going through now with war across the world is more fearful than this, but this is an epidemic. It's growing higher and higher, and more people need to get tested."

Rudolph the Red Meat Side Dish

2007-12-20T13:05:00.000-08:00

(As published by the Fairfield Weekly on December 20, 2007)

Ill apologize up front to anyone who sympathizes with reindeer this time of year (teachers, parents, children, vegetarians) because I fully endorse eating them.

It started with an uncle of mine who’s a head chef at a fancy Boston restaurant. He loves to cook up risky dishes for the family at Christmas. Once it was a hundred pieces of sushi that only he and I ate; another time it was fajitas and home-made (grilled!) salsa. He was outside in the snow grilling vegetables the whole morning that time. The best one though, was the reindeer he made in 2001.

After cueing the “red-nosed” song, he opened the oven and out came what looked like dark sliced beef, gently displayed on crackers with some sort of sauce and maybe some capers. He must have ordered a few pounds of the festive flesh for us, without letting anyone know what was in store.

“Come on down,” the chef yelled to the kids, “it’s time to eat Rudolph!” The adults were laughing and stuffing their faces with shrimp cocktail, hummus and Merlot while the youngest kids, at around three or four, cried when the drunken man in the chef’s hat kept insisting it was really Rudolph.

“Rudolph’s dead,” he said, “And I killed him for you! Eat up!” He either thought the kids would love the idea, or he knew they’d hate it. But he played the role very well, complete with his red-splattered smock (it was ketchup).

The two or three ethical members of the family wondered if it was right to be eating the holiday mascot—who’s making the rabbit stew for Easter?—but in the end it was too delicious to argue. If you’ve ever had kangaroo, reindeer tastes a little like that. If you haven’t, it’s like beef tenderloin. Smooth, flavorful and light as a feather.

But reindeer do not fly. They are like small moose. They are lazy, slow and stupid animals.

Canadian reindeer are the laziest, resting in roads all across the territories and running toward cars instead of back into the woods. They rest in the road because the roads serve as clearings from the miles and miles of thick forest, and they can sleep there without being bothered by mosquitoes. A smarter animal would worry about the cars and not the bugs, but reindeer seem to think they’re just as invincible as their fictional flying friends. I’ve read that a reindeer’s brain is a delicacy, and maybe that’s because they don’t use the brain for much else. Might as well eat it.

Tasteless? Well, Chez Uncle didn’t think there was anything wrong with his hors d’ ouerve.

“It’s like eating turkey on Thanksgiving,” he said.

It’s not anything like that. Rudolph was a red-nosed hero among heroes—a legend!—and not just a passive bird waddling in the woods.

Anyway, there we were chowing on reindeer meat and wishing there was more. Truth is, people have been eating this stuff for centuries and today it’s an expensive delicacy.

Roasts are hard to find in the U.S. but they’re out there, so ask your local butcher what he can scrooge up—what he can scrounge up—and have a tasty if truly tasteless Christmas.

Little Drummer Girl Phenom: 14-Year Old Caitlin Kalafus

2007-12-18T06:42:00.000-08:00

(As published by the Fairfield Weekly on 12/15/2007)

Her videos have garnered over 525,000 views but Caitlin Kalafus, 14, is not just another YouTube fad; she's an actual drum star on the rise.

She lives in Milford and doesn't have a driver's license, so she's left with what the local music scene has to offer. So what does she do? She plays in three bands at once and frequently joins Connecticut's most popular jam-rock group, the Breakfast, onstage at Toad's.

One of her bands, Switch Up, consists of Kalafus and the Breakfast's Adrian Tramontano and Tim Palmieri. Its central idea is giving each musician a chance to shine. They write and play their own songs (with some covers thrown in) and switch instruments. The caliber of each musician is unmatched in the area. Tramontano is as subtle and intricate a drummer as any, Palmieri is one of the best guitarists in the business and Kalafus is just as gifted at songwriting and guitar-playing as she is a drummer.

But what is she doing with these vets?

Tramontano, who is also Kalafus' drum teacher, met the drummer girl at a competition at the Guitar Center in Orange a few years ago, where he was also competing.

"She was really fearless with engaging the audience before she even sat to play and that caught my eye," Tramontano recalls, "And then she played a drum solo and I was like, 'Wow, that's really good!' I could tell there was a real passion there, and I definitely thought I could show her some new ways of playing, you know, crackin' a whole other realm of playing." His regimen includes playing live as much as possible and becoming more aggressive with her playing.

Whitney Maus, a shocked audience member at a Toad's performance in October, said, "Oh yeah, she's good. I think she's a lot better than she should be!"

"She's up there," says Tramontano, "And another thing here is she's gonna be a great—and I mean great—drummer. She's gonna be really top-notch."

Caitlin Kalafus' passion to play rock music started at age 7, when she began learning the guitar. She quickly moved to drums and, as quickly, she outgrew her peers.

"In elementary school, my dad helped me to play 'Knockin' on Heaven's Door' with some friends," she says, "and that was pretty much the only time I was with kids my age." It's not that she pushes them away or feels superior; she simply treats music differently, with more respect.

"It's not that I don't take kids seriously," she says, "it's like, I'm on a level where I understand things differently, rather than 'Oh, yeah, I can play drums.' Music is my life, it's what makes me feel complete."

She has a boyfriend and friends her own age, but when it comes to music you'll usually find Kalafus playing with the adults (and because of age restrictions at clubs, she usually plays to adults too). She's in a band called Rock House All Stars, sponsored by the popular instructional DVD company Rock House Method, in which she plays with other teenage musicians (she's still the youngest).

"It's scary how good she is," says her father, a high-school music teacher in Milford. "[S]he doesn't go down [in the basement] for eight hours a day. And my thought is, imagine if she did! But it might ruin her, it might burn her out."

The support system Dad has set up for her knows no boundaries. Dad's her driver, her biggest fan, her lead guitarist in the band Caitlin on Drums (with family friend Chris Barber on lead vocals) and he's traveled as far as Los Angeles with her to play.

At the last gig in Milford, a gray-pony-tailed man with a Dark Side of the Moon t-shirt walked up to the band after a song. "These guys are awesome!" he yelled. "Where can I get a shirt?"

"I'm a huge music fan, man, and I've heard of these guys," he explained. "I just had to make sure I came out and checked them out."

It's off-putting to see Caitlin on Drums play in bars and family restaurants. And it's not quite because of Kalafus' age; it's that she possesses serious talent and originality—and it's clear she belongs on a much larger stage, in a much larger spotlight.

Burma Roads: Talking with Burmese Refugees in Bridgeport

2007-12-14T09:51:00.001-08:00

(As published by the Fairfield Weekly, November 15, 2007. Everything interview-related by me. Additional reporting by Chandra Niles Folsom)

The Burma we hear about on the news today was once the "rice bowl" of Asia. Rich with all the natural resources and beauty a country would ever need, it was sometimes referred to as the Venice of the East. Today, Burma is a place where the "children have no future," according to Eh Lay, 34, and Po Ya Ko, 36, two Burmese refugees living in Bridgeport.

"People have no rights and they are at the mercy of the troops," said Tint Sheppard, a volunteer works Burmese refugee families in Bridgeport, including those of Eh Lay and Po Ya Ko. She left Burma with her family as a young child. She coordinates her efforts with the International Institute of Connecticut (IIC) in Bridgeport, but she works on her own time. She helps them write letters, find things like blankets and clothes, and generally adapt.

A member of the U.S. Committee for Refugees and Immigrants and recognized by the U.S. Board of Immigration Appeals, the International Institute has assisted more than 100,000 immigrants and refugees since 1918. Their volunteers offer services ranging from refugee resettlement services and job training to immigration counseling and pro bono court representation with special assistance to human trafficking victims.

"The Burmese-Myanmar refugees were in camps for years and the U.S. had asked the Thai government to host them," says Myra Oliver, director of the institute for the past 30 years. "But the problems in Thailand have been mounting and the Burmese who escaped from various countries kept piling up, so finally we started taking them in as refugees.

Eh Lay and Po Ya Ko have spent most of their lives in refugee camps in Thailand. Until now, their entire lives were centered on surviving, without hope of ever having a home of their own. They now share a three-family apartment building in Bridgeport with their wives and children and one other refugee family. They have American bank accounts, their children are in school, their wives are working at a factory in Milford and their apartments are furnished.

Speaking to Eh Lay and Po Ya Ko, through Sheppard as an interpreter, it was inspiring to see how high the men's spirits were in spite of recent news of poverty, torture and murder in Burma. Far from these tragedies, the simply-dressed men were in the IIC building to sort out some issues with food stamps and to discuss employment possibilities. They're as uprooted but they're with their families and they're getting by.

When they first arrived, the three families shared one head of cabbage, a bag of rice and a few onions but today consider themselves well-fed.

One major difficulty they're facing is how their children are being bullied in school for not knowing English, but they're working with the schools to alleviate this problem.

They described their new life in Bridgeport (they've been here four months) as a difficult and anxious one, but also as a massive relief of freedom from refugee camp life, and even more of a relief from life in Burma. Namely, they can now come and go from their homes as they please and they can begin building their lives on their own terms.

Both saw people getting picked up for forced labor by the military government. The soldiers would show up at Po Ya Ko's village and take any male older than 12 or 13, putting them to work on roads and buildings across the country. There is no avoiding this, Po Ya Ko said, and that's why it was necessary to escape with the rebels when he and his family had the chance.

Eh Lay's life in Burma was intertwined with the rebel forces. His adopted brothers were among 41 rebels who were imprisoned in Rangoon by the government, because of a spy in their midst. Eh Lay's mother would bribe the guards at the prison and bring the men food. Their lives became very dangerous after this. She quickly became a government target and had no choice but to send her daughters to Thailand with her brother, who was a rebel smuggling goods into Burma. She was later able to escape with Eh Lay and his brothers before her scheduled arrest thanks to tips from the guards at the prison.

They left grandparents, friends and imprisoned loved-ones behind, but live was only about survival—no room for rememberance—in the camps. Because of malnourishment, Po Ya Ko's parents died from cholera shortly after crossing the border into Thailand and he worked with his sisters and brothers to stay alive and healthy in the camps. Eh Lay said that despite being separated from their homes, it was refreshing to be fed regularly and put in schools.

Eh Lay escaped Burma when he was a boy and has since spent 19 years, more than half his life, in refugee camps. Po Ya Ko, who escaped Burma in 1985, when he was 12. He spent 22 years in the camps.

Today, with both their wives working, the men are eagerly awaiting jobs. IIC is helping them with this, as well as many other social services and a local Laotian family is also helping them. Eh Lay has an interview coming up with a packaging company in Shelton. He is a musician too, and is hoping to find a used keyboard to play. The men explained a sport they enjoy together, what they called "Kim Ball," that is a cross between volleyball and soccer. The IIC was able to find an authentic ball from Thailand made from a native plant.

They said they're waiting for the conditions in Burma to improve, but they expect to stay in America for a "long time."

Clowns of the Year: Snipes, Cook, King

2007-12-14T09:43:00.000-08:00

(My part of the December 6, 2007 Fairfield Weekly cover story)

WESLEY SNIPES

For a man who has all the ingredients for being as big and untouchable as Denzel, Wesley Snipes came a little too close to becoming an inmate this year. Maybe you know Wesley Snipes for being a Playgirl cover boy in ‘98, or maybe you know him for his amazing teeth, but did you know that he avoided a court date in March that could have put him in jail for 16 years? The IRS has 800,000 pages in reports on him and he apparently didn’t pay taxes between 1999 and 2004. They also cite illegal refunds of over $12 million before 1999. He goes to court in January to answer these allegations.

All this and he was in three straight-to-DVD movies this year. The embarrassing Hard Luck, in which Wesley plays a drug dealer, couldn’t say it better. The others, Chaos and The Contractor, are basically the same movie: guns, girls, explosions, zero acting. He hasn’t made a decent movie since Blade: Trinity in ’04, and that wasn’t even a decent movie. Mr. Snipes, welcome to the ranks Robert Hatch, Crocodile Dundee and the lead singer of Everclear.

DANE COOK

How does a respectable rising comedian with an outstanding sense of how to market himself to youngsters become a complete and utter disgrace to his own fans? We could ask Dane Cook, but he’d answer with some long story disguised as a joke, filled with a bunch of over-annunciated words. He’d pace back and forth in a circle, Sufi-ing us all into a stupor, punching bees in the face and eating “banana sangwiches.” Funny stuff, Dane, but that’s not an answer. How is it that you’ve become a parody of yourself?

In his most recent DVD, the unbearable Rough Around the Edges: Live from Madison Square Garden, released just last week, Cook doesn’t even tell whole jokes; he just throws out punch lines from old ones and waits for the screams to quiet. He’s tapped into every 15-year-old girl’s need to have inside jokes with everyone. But that’s not enough. He has to clown his way into movies now. Cook was terrible in Employee of the Month, outrageously appalling in Mr. Brooks (don’t rent it if you haven’t already) and his name in the upcoming Bachelor No. 2 is “Tank.”

Dane Cook is one silly bitch.

DON KING

Don King did bring a major boxing event to Bridgeport but made a total ass of himself in the process. At a press conference for the WBA fight at Harbor Yard this summer, he said things like, “Here we are in Bridgeport, the…uh… city of bridges! And we’re here to sell tickets!”

City of bridges? That would be Pittsburgh. This is the “big city of dreams,” as the Young Souljahs “Bridgeport Anthem” music video demonstrates.

Then there was King’s attire. A denim jacket that looked like something out of a 1989 L.A. Gear catalogue, covered in sequins and national monuments—Mt. Rushmore and the Iwo Jima statue. He carried four or five little American flags, a couple Italian flags, a few Puerto Rican flags and he was waving them all at the same time, the whole time he spoke. It made no sense at all, but it was wonderful.

La Salsa: Eat Mexican Food.

2007-12-14T09:41:00.000-08:00

(As published by the Fairfield Weekly, November 29, 2007)

Stop eating your leftovers! The turkey is shot, the cranberry sauce has turned to slop-juice and no amount of salt will cover the taste of the mold now caking your potatoes. But that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy some comfort food. I recommend La Salsa Fresh Mexican Grill (580 Post Rd Fairfield; 203-256-8800). Can I do that? Recommend Mexican food in place of Thanksgiving leftovers? Of course. Just as with Thanksgiving, at La Salsa you can fill yourself to the point of self-disgust (and usually for under $10). Start with a Grande Burrito or a pair of shrimp tacos; those are my faves. If you’ve recovering alcoholics at the family table—hey, La Salsa doesn’t serve booze. No margaritas, no Dos Equis, but maybe you’ve realized that the only reason other Mexican joints sell booze is to hide the nasty flavors they pack into their chicken chimichangas. La Salsa has no such ass-nastiness. They heavily advertise their use of only “real chicken” (as opposed to…meow?), high-quality steak, fresh vegetables and no microwaves. The fried-chicken taquitos are delicious and most meals are served with a heap of rice-n-beans. Get the #2 special if you’re real hungry—a quesadilla, two taquitos, rice-n-beans-n-chips-n-salsa. Take-out’s available but if you can brave the tiny parking lot, push your way into the salsa bar for spicy or sweet takes on the recipe—not to mention a fine spread of onions, jalapenos, cilantro, etc.

Election Day Blowout!

2007-12-14T09:33:00.000-08:00

(My part of the Fairfield Weekly's November 1, 2007 Cover Story. Intro by Tom Gogola.)

FAIRFIELD FIRST SELECTMAN

John Nelson is the youthful opponent of eight-year First Selectman Ken Flatto. Both are Fairfield natives and both are impressively concerned about the town’s well-being and quality of life. This year marks the first year in Fairfield history that the elected First Selectman will serve a four-year term instead of two.

Flatto has solidified over 500 acres of open spaces in the town, he’s doubled the traffic and safety division of the police department, he’s upgrade six public schools, the main library and the sewer plant and the state has recently approved permits and plans for building another train station in town. The station, to be located on lower Black Rock Turnpike by BJ’s Wholesale, will, according to a survey conducted by Flatto, relieve about a third of the traffic going to the Post Rd. station. This is arguably one of Fairfield’s major issues. Flatto said they’re looking to break ground on this project within a month.

Nelson, who seemed to at least have the slogan on his website memorized when we spoke with him (This town is at a crossroad…), is committed to improving the beach, making it a “first class beach area. No, a world class beach area.” (Let’s be clear on the distinction there.) He would like to place more of an emphasis on the town’s identity as “the intellectual and historical seat of CT” and also make more of a “walkable and lively downtown area.” He cites flooding, parking and traffic as hindrances in truly enjoying the area.

When probing for Nelson’s political competency as compared to Flatto’s, we found shaky ground. He wants to fix overcrowding in the classroom, but he wants spending to be the last resort. He instead proposes “scientific growth analysis” and “a thorough evaluation of available space.”

One thing Flatto doesn’t have on Nelson is a military background. Nelson explained what he took from the Marine Corps, as it’s applicable to being Fairfield’s First Selectman, “I learned to delegate authority and responsibility to those experts within the town” and also “to engage the resources, corporations, institutions and the spirit of volunteerism.”

Flatto, the favored candidate in this race, prides himself on his time and work spent on the public school renovations and the other local projects. “I feel very confident that we’ve done a good job and I believe the citizens feel the same way.”

Flatto’s biggest criticism of Nelson has been his voting record; that Nelson has not voted in local or state elections for the last five years. Nelson admitted that “that would be correct,” but that he does not think it hinders his chances to be elected. “I know how important voting is because I protected that right by wearing a uniform and putting my life on the line,” he said.

Democrats in Fairfield are also bringing up the fact that Nelson was not living in Fairfield as far back as 2004 and as recently as last year. Nelson said he lived in the house for the first and last of those five years, because he was overseas and was living in “any number of other places.”

Nelson said of his campaign progress, “I’ve got my ear to the ground and I’m being told that my platform has got it.”
And what platform is that? From what we could find, it’s “Fairfield is a great town, but it could be a whole lot better.” That, and “I love the outdoor tables and the warm environment on Post Rd. That’s really what I’d like to see more of.”

Flatto recommends that anyone driving through Fairfield check out Las Vetas for a cup of coffee, Hobby Town for “a nice Mom and Pop feel” and Billy’s Bakery. Nelson prefers Chat N’ Chew for coffee, Fin for sushi and Royal Cleaners for dry-cleaning.

Oh and both candidates would entertain the idea of a John Mayer fund-raising concert.

GREENWICH FIRST SELECTMAN

An elected representative in Greenwich since the age of 18, Peter Tesei is the Republican candidate, as Jim Lash prepares to leave the office. Quick to point out his accomplishments as chairman of the town’s BET (Board of Estimation and Taxation), he told us the board is “very similar to Black Entertainment Television.” He’s kidding, of course. Or is he?

His Democratic challenger is Frank Farricker, and while most of his experience is in real estate and on the Planning and Zoning Commission, Farricker did run for senator last year in the 36th district. But he doesn’t consider himself a politician, adding that even if he is elected to be one, it’s a “good ethic to live by.” He said, “It’s the political version of ‘keepin’ it real.’”

Stop joking around gentlemen, please. Let’s get down to business here.

Tesei wants to “keep the community diverse,” “keep taxes at a modest and predictable level,” and keep improving the town’s schools. Farricker is often quoted as saying the “status quo isn’t enough” and so he believes he represents an important shift in Greenwich leadership.

“It’s about time we make some changes and move forward,” says Farricker, adding that Tesei believes that making changes in the town “would be like attacking his own record.” And with an emphasis on setting priorities for the town, Farricker said “too often, Greenwich has waited for the crisis before acting.” He wants to focus on the environment (the town has the state’s worst air and water quality), schools (too much time has been spent on ancillary issues instead of actual education) and getting projects completed (the Byram Library project needs a serious push).

Farricker, the real estate and zoning expert in the race, wants to speed the progress of the Byram Library project, which he says has not met any of its time targets. He has proposed a plan to jump-start a project that’s been delayed by unforeseen problems, that includes more funding and more resources while all the while “protecting the rights of town residents.” We’re not entirely sure what rights he’s referring to, but we’ll assume it’s their right to have a functioning library that’s not covered in scaffolding.

Farricker’s website reports that Tesei is misleading the public, pointing out problems with the completion of the town’s Public Safety Complex by saying the project is “on-time and on-budget.” Tesei told us that he stands by those comments because of feedback he’s heard from the project’s supervisors.

Then, Tesei pointed out that it may in fact be Farricker who is misleading the public. He told us that they’re both, by virtue of their respective offices, members of the Glenville School Building Committee and that Farricker only attended one of 19 of the committee’s meetings. Tesei asked, “Why isn’t [Farricker] willing to lend his expertise when his town really needs it?”

Despite their problems with each other, both men are committed to their hometown. Farricker is concerned that the lack of accountability and transparency in the town’s government has inspired “less and less good people” to run for office. Tesei said he too believes it is important to be open and accessible. “I enjoy that part of the service,” he says.

Asked about Greenwich’s local flavor, Tesei recommended the Bulldog Pub in Cos Cob for casual dining. Farricker, in a similar vein, said the town’s hidden gem is its chili. “Picnics, restaurants, Port Chester and all over town; we have the best chili.”

As for political idols, Tesei went big with Ronald Reagan and Farricker went small with 1980 independent (though historically a Republican) presidential candidate John Anderson, whom he met when he was 15 at the town library. “He was a very decent and motivated man,” he says.

Get Up, Pony Up: WPKN Reggae Benefit

2007-12-14T09:31:00.000-08:00

(As published by the Fairfield Weekly, October 25, 2007)

Asking for money can be a tough thing to do. We owe starving artists and public radio stations a tip of the hat for their attempts, however un-inspired they may be from time to time. Telethons, radio-thons, begging: none of that stuff is naturally fun to be a part of. When someone does fund-raising right, it's refreshing.

Enter Bridgeport's WPKN and its Reggae Benefit on Oct. 27, a ready-steady night featuring performances from, among others, local reggae acts Anthem, Fresh Band and Mystic Bowie. Starting at 8 p.m. and rollin' on through 2 a.m., the Reggae Benefit was put together by Tony Kosloski and Dave-O of the Tuesday morning show "Irie Feelings" on WPKN, with help from Café Nine in New Haven. The benefit will be broadcast live on WPKN from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m.

"These are the local cats who stop by the show whenever they've got a new joint they're looking to promote," said Kosloski. "Part of our job as local DJs is to celebrate local musicians."

WPKN is a diverse and completely listener-supported station offering programming that ranges from talk to jazz to blues to live broadcasts of local events like the Gathering of the Vibes. The station puts all funds raised into the common fund to pay the bills, according to Kosloski.

"Were a collective of volunteers," he said, "If we're going to be true to our philosophy, which is to not take any money from the government or corporations, then we need to turn to our listeners. And most of our listeners don't have large checkbooks, so we have to step outside the box to think of benefit ideas that appeal to the listeners."

"Coozie," lead singer for Anthem, was driving with his band from Arkansas to Chicago for a gig when I caught up with him, and he had nothing but positive vibes to send PKN's way. "They're more like friends than any sort of business associates," he said. "If it wasn't for the 'Irie Feelings' show, we wouldn't really get any airplay." And just to show how much this benefit concert means to a band like Anthem—which this year has played in Guam, South Korea, Japan and Hawaii—they cancelled a show they had booked in Ocean City, MD to come home.

"When you get a project like this," says Kosloski, "people just jump in ask, 'What can I do?' And then we get a big wheel rollin' and it's all good."

Kosloski (or I-Tone, as he's known on the air), and Dave-O's show "Irie Feelings" broadcasts Tuesdays from 6 to 10 a.m.

Girls (Not) Against Noise: Eula

2007-12-14T09:15:00.000-08:00

(As published by the Fairfield County Weekly, October 18, 2007)

New Haven indie rockers Eula take the Acoustic Café stage this Friday as part of what they're calling "An Evening of Noise." And all the bands except one have at least one female member, according to Eula singer Alyse Lamb. "It's all completely selfish," she says. "The show is bands that we like to listen to and like to go see."

Eula, a trio, is a fun, hard-hitting rock band with an eerie twist—Lamb's voice can sound distraught even as the music remains upbeat. She's backed by Jeff Maleri on bass and Nate Rose on drums, and, the weird thing is, as you listen to the EP "Up in Arms," it sounds as though Alyse sings her songs with a permanent smirk on her face.

Smirks are the shit. Sarcasm, satire, not taking yourself too seriously, the whole deal. And Eula agrees. There's an overwhelming feeling of playful anxiety in the music. But no matter how distressed they sound, it's still upbeat. Alyse lets out the sadness through fun riffs, a rockabilly style and a friendly punk feel.

The key is that Eula does a good job of balancing contrasting emotions; this emotional control defines the band as one that, while an "up-and-comer," can lay claim to some songwriting maturity.

You relate to the sadness in their music with a smile as you ride the driving bass line. You like the lovely little torn voice and you love that the music is loud and kick-ass. It's not foolish and it's not exactly dark. You feel it when you watch a love story like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and realize that it's not at all cheesy. I'm not saying Eula is the musical equivalent of the visual masterpiece that is Eternal Sunshine, but their ability to mash the eerie with the adorable, sans cheese, is as important as it is impressive

My favorite Eula song is "Rosie the Riveter (Single Barrel)," for which Nate wrote the music and Alyse wrote the lyrics. "I just wanted to think of something that was as ballsy as his riff...I guess," says Alyse. "So I was thinking of guns and shooting and—I don't know." The result is a creepy and noirish surf-rock riff and lyrics that shine a strong spotlight on the strength of women; "Take the path unknown/tread it 'til it's sore/I promise not to make a sound/as she hits the ground/one of these days, she'll learn/she'll learn the hard way/HEY!"

Eula often wonders what it means to be identified as an as "indie rock" band. "It was about independence, and now it's like the cool thing," says Nate. "It's hard to describe some bands without saying indie, and then everyone says 'oh, I don't like to be labeled.' It's cool to be on stage with eight people, switching instruments. But what's next?"

Alyse has a possible answer: "I heard Matchbox 20 is coming out with a new style. I read it on CNN.com."

On Friday Eula will be joined by Saint Bernadette (who'll have a new CD for sale at the show), Electric Bucket, Electrajet and Fay Rey.

Every band but the last has at least one woman in it. "I thought it would be cool to get some girlies up in there," says Alyse.

And yet another installment of FCW's "Bands to Watch"

2007-12-14T08:59:00.000-08:00

(As published in the Fairfield Weekly, September 20, 2007)

This year's Grand Band Slam, which we wrote about a couple of weeks ago, brought back a bunch of repeat offenders—Jen Durkin, Mystic Bowie, the Zambonis, Larissa DeLorenzo, Elvis McMan—and not much in the way of new talent. That's cool: We were happy to coddle the winners as much as we could without totally blowing our credibility—but what about the other guys? The just-starting-outers, the we-almost-have-an-albummers. This is where we talk about them. Submit your friend's band (with a picture) for review here and maybe they'll make the cut. The entirely biased and wholly subjective cut, that is.

Delta 9 and the Flo is a psychedelic quintet built on the assumption that what's missing from Life these days is well-written, intricate and improvisational music to dance to. And if they're right, your next stop at a Fairfield Avenue bar this fall will be really freaking groovy. After a short tour earlier this year, with headlining stops at the University of Vermont and Southern New Hampshire University, the Flo has a new drummer and is happy to welcome a kickin' keyboardist into the fold. Along with original songs, Flo takes classic rock gems and adds complex vocals, impressively tasteful lead guitar playing and their jam-band instincts to let the songs expand. Think Miles Davis, Phish and Pink Floyd's "Echoes" and you've got a rough idea of their sound. Check out www.myspace.com/delta9andtheflo.

Dave Grazinski is a one-man banjo-centered project named Monitor and the Merrimac with a focus on the American history that keeps the banjo alive today. Grazinski emphasizes the storytelling aspects of his songs by playing "at almost any location, with or without a public address system, with or without a floor or a roof or walls or electricity." Microphone? What? Just give him a stool and a beer and he'll make you feel like you're siting around a campfire in the Wisconsin wilderness. Bob Dylan did that kind of stuff once. Monitor and the Merrimac is a local American poet with a banjo who's catering to the People's need for something very real, a little "different" and a lot old-fashioned. Grazinski is working on a fully instrumented album, Grandma's Old Couch, with Mates of States' equipment and musicians from Titles—Titles? whodat?—and he'll be playing all around the area while it's being completed.

Titles is a New Haven indie rock band getting ready for their first big tour of the Northeast. And yeah, we're going to celebrate one of our own: Singer/guitarist/heartthrob Brad Amorosino is a graphic artist at the Weekly—and he's a good singer who's a frickin' awesome graphic artist at the Weekly. The music? The teetering bass line on "Wait I Don't Know," paired with slide guitar playing and casual, witty vocals make for an wholly original, minimalist sound. While many indie bands nowadays ride the folk-country wave or do some kind of emo or post-emo thing, Titles ain't having it. They recently played with Aloha, and they've got a seven-inch vinyl out with Mountain Movers' songs on the backside. Titles will play Fairfield County later this fall; their schedule is at www.listentotitles.com, and so are the pictures. Brad: Don't quit your day job just yet!

Young Souljahs is a raucous hip-hop group from Bridgeport (which they've deemed "the Big City of Dreams") and they're trying to put the city on the map. Forget hot dogs and Robert De Niro sightings; these guys are using their YouTube video "Bridgeport Anthem" to remind everyone about Bridgeport's positive attributes—violence and drug-running, namely. If you live anywhere near Bridgeport, check this out. If you don't, check it out. It's kinda priceless. Laugh all you want but don't hate on it, son. They're even gaining followers in the 'burbs with user comments like "Ha! I'm a rich asshole from Fairfield. Messed up shizznazz. Thankyou BPT for all the 40's and glassware. You may hate me but I'm feeling what you guys are up to." The Weekly covers enough rock bands to know that this certainly is an under-represented viewpoint, so we're spreading the good word about Yung Souljahs. You can say that rap is crap all you want, but this kind of confidence and foul language is at least worth a YouTube search.

Slam Lords: Oh no! Skate-punk festival returns to SoNo

2007-12-14T08:58:00.000-08:00

(As published by the Fairfield Weekly, September 13, 2007)

If you've got bloody elbows and you love hairy men with guitars, you have an obligation to hit this year's Thurst Music Slamfest. Vendors, food, live music, skater demos, the Sound and free admission—that's what's going on. It doesn't matter your age, just strap on some elbow pads and hop in the minivan. Mom, we're going to Slamfest, ya dig? Here's a rundown of some of the featured bands:

Crash Romeo has basically been on tour since January, and after just getting back from Warped Tour they're writing a new album. They're a pop-punk band from Jersey, they're unexpectedly on a hardcore label (Trustkill) and they have some catchy lyrics, lively riffs and a lot of energy.

Jacobi Wichita is one of the more seasoned bands of the bunch, with a new album on the way and an energetic, original sound that's almost psychedelic. They're a little bit Linkin Park and little bit Mars Volta, but not as epic. They're proud to be their own blues-funk-hip-hop entity.

Vampire for Hire toured with Crash Romeo this year and they're a new pop-punk band from Jersey, too. I expected blood-thrashing metal, but they're more Hot Topic than blood-thirsty. The local teenage girls on MySpace love them and can't wait for the show.

Swallow the Ocean is part soothing guitar, part murderous scream. A perfect example of what can only be explained as a nightmare is "Dancing Upon a Skunk." But that's exactly what their genre is going for. This is not your father's rock, this is serious scary shit.

Saving Echo sounds like a hardcore Lenny Kravitz, with some Guns N Roses attempts thrown in to balance the whole thing out. A melodic high energy show with strong vocals from Kris Keyes is what you get with these guys.

Lost in Ashford is a hardcore band from Ashford, CT and while they don't scream all their lyrics, it's mostly screams. A tight, loud and thick sound. If the skate park doesn't fuck you up, these guys will.

No Less Than Everything is chaotic hardcore meets melodious metal with some intricate and almost tribal drum beats tying it all together. The mix of influences includes Latin jazz—not what you'd expected from hardcore but they tie it together in a loud, distorted package.

Tim Reynolds: Landing Acoustic UFOs in Your Front Yard

2007-12-14T08:53:00.000-08:00

(As published in the Fairfield Weekly, September 13, 2007)
It's been about eight years and countless sold-out Tim Reynolds shows since the widely acclaimed Dave and Tim CD Live at Luther College was released and some people still have no idea who that little guy is sitting next to Dave. The one who can make an acoustic guitar sound like a UFO landing in your backyard. They just know Dave has a friend named Tim.

Truth is, Dave Matthews wishes he was Tim Reynolds. In certain circles Reynolds is considered a visionary, a master, a living legend. And if you pick up one of his 15 solo CDs, you'll find yourself right there in those circles.

I've been listening to Reynolds since hearing Luther College in '99 and while my interest in his acoustic style led me to other musicians like Leo Kottke and Keller Williams, I've still never heard anything as true and honest as a Tim Reynolds song. The improvisation, the bizarre intricacies, the emotion (raw)—it's mysterious and beautiful in a way you've always hoped music can be.

Once I found out that he's coming to Fairfield Theater's StageOne on Friday, I needed to talk to him. And in a mind-blowing hour-long phone conversation, we covered topics ranging from inter-dimensional travel to campaigning with Dennis Kucinich in 2004, and from his fan site to his new DVD with Dave Matthews, Live at Radio City Music Hall.

Tim on the new Dave & Tim DVD:
"I watched it at a friend's house last week in full sound, on a huge projection screen. It was actually really overwhelming and I had to leave," he says with a laugh. "But Dave is fucking kickin' on that thing! It really blew me away."

Tim on the guitar:
"I've been doing electric for a while and I did it a few times earlier this year. Mostly I've been playing acoustic, and it complements me really digging writing, and just realizing that you never know enough on any instrument. I just want to learn more."

Tim on the blues:
"Yesterday I started playing the old blues guys again and revisiting some of that. Revisiting and reeducating myself on the way to play one note and make it very subtly different for a long time. Studying a very simple form like blues and then seeing how complex a blues tune by one of the old masters is. If you listen to every little thing they do, it's like, you can't write that shit down. It's so raw and authentic. Like John Hammond, I just think he's the shit. The man can get down. He's just bringin' it. That motherfucker is rockin' like some bands wish they could."

Tim on his fan site, TimReynolds.com:
"It's just a whole different world, I don't even relate to it in a way. Although I really appreciate that people like it."

Tim on inter-dimensional travel:
"I just try to keep it in my head that it's all about the music for me and I should just keep making music. And as I get older, I almost feel like it controls me to be that way. And it almost feels like at some point it happens, and I'm in outer space and I'm flying into this what-music-is dimension that's on earth, but it's also in other dimensions simultaneously that you really can't even put into words, but you can put it into music.

"I think there's inter-dimensional traveling because physics demands it in a way, and I feel that through music that's real. I don't really go for the aliens hanging out and visiting us. I think there's inter-dimensional consciousness visiting us. But the whole Roswell thing is a totally different story."

Tim on meditation:
"When you're breathing quiet and you quiet your mind, once you can really do that for even five seconds, [it's] a totally different dimension that's completely ongoing, everywhere all the time. It's like musical inspiration; it's just waiting for us to tap into. As I get older, that sense of truth, you can't even put certain things into words or reason and I think it just comes out in music, I just give myself to that.

Tim on the '08 presidential election:
He started to laugh. "I'm gonna say 'fuck' a lot. I'm still in a dark, black widow mode from the last election.

"What [Dennis] Kucinich did [in '04] was brave and I still think he's the shit and he should be president. After going all over the country seeing how things are in the country, the whole system—media, government—they're so fixed on image and anti-substance. Something is going to have to unite us that isn't based on fear, because our country is really a giant ego of fear.

"Part of me wants to get wild with [campaigning with Kucinich again], but part of me just feels like the whole government system needs to blow its fascist wad and get over itself. Maybe Bush will be the first one to wake up and say, 'This is bullshit, I ain't workin' for you guys anymore.'"

Eat Impeach: Protesters descend on a Stamford restaurant to call on Nancy Pelosi to support articles of impeachment against Bush and Cheney.

2007-12-14T08:51:00.000-08:00

(As printed in the Fairfield Weekly, August 16, 2007)

Members of the Weston, Westport and Stamford Impeachment Committees gathered on Thursday to call for Bush and Cheney's head in front of Stamford's Il Falco restaurant.

Inside, House Speaker and impeachment-opposer Nancy Pelosi was in attendance for a Chris Murphy fund-raiser; according to those leaving the lunch, Pelosi spoke about uniting the Democrats and ending the War in Iraq, and mentioned nothing about impeachment.

The protesters were itching to get the message across to anyone who'd listen. Richard Duffee, a retired lawyer and spokesman for the trio of local impeachment committees, wrote a letter he wanted to give to Pelosi with a petition signed by 650 pro-impeachment locals. His letter refers to the pair as as "domestic enemies of the Constitution" with "no signs of reforming themselves."

"[w]e can't get our troops out of Iraq without impeachment," he said, "because Bush and Cheney are too intimidating in Washington and they're too unresponsive."

Duffee had a message, a big bushy beard and in his hands, a copy of the Constitution printed on parchment. He spoke of hypocrisy in the government and referenced the Geneva Convention and the Nuremburg Laws as evidence of the need to remove Bush from his post. "It's standard Fascist stuff," he claimed.

Sal Liccione, a friend of Murphy's and head of Dennis Kucinich's presidential campaign in the state, was able to hand the letter to Rep. Murphy inside the restaurant. "If you can't listen to grass-roots messages like this," he said, "then what can you do?"

Liccione said 57 percent of Americans want to impeach Bush and he reported that 18 members of the House (but not Murphy) have already signed Kucinich's House Resolution 333, which on Congress to impeach Bush-Cheney.

A teenaged boy walked by; one of the older protesters asked him if he liked the Rolling Stones (the boy was wearing a Stones t-shirt). He said yes, and kept walking.

"What about Bush?" someone yelled.

"I hate him!" the boy yelled back.

A sigh of generational relief. "Looks like we've got the upper-middle class vote," said John Iles, 71, of Redding.

"I'm just sick of this whole damn thing," Mary Maynard said with a laugh. She was holding a sign that simply said Enough. She was waving, smiling and throwing out thumbs-up to every car that drove by, hoping for some feedback. Many passersby ignored all attempts at eye-contact, but most waved or threw back a thumbs-up. There were honking cars, honking buses and clapping families across the street.

Among the anti-impeachers who came by was Gregory Lodato, a thirtysomething Republican member of the Stamford Board of Representatives, who said, "The debate has gotten too polarized and now people want to impeach. It's ridiculous."

Once the protesters heard of his he support for the war, they jumped all over him, calling him un-American. In response, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Lodato told the crowd that he was Native American. The crowd asked what tribe he was from; he laughed the question off. "Look up the word 'native' in the dictionary," he said. A long, polarized argument about heritage and ancestry followed until someone said, "you're all missing the point." Lodato agreed and eventually said, "It is not our place to be telling the Speaker of the House to do her job."

At one point the wonderfully Italian owner of Il Falco, Vincenzo Cordaro, stepped out to greet the crowd and he happily shared his views. "I don't think we can impeach him today," he said with a laugh, "but I think this is great. This is a great country."

A House United: Extreme Makeover Home Edition Hits Bridgeport

2007-12-14T08:47:00.000-08:00

(As printed in the Fairfield Weekly, August 9, 2007)

It was a well-planned and perfectly organized swarm of blue worker bees—hundreds and maybe thousands of volunteers all dressed in ABC-TV-issued blue t-shirts—that changed the lives of East End Bridgeport's Brown family forever last week. And all it took to fuel the swarm was a few plates of ziti and chicken wings and nonstop water bottles and Micalizzi's Italian Ice handouts. All that, and the inspiring story of the Brown family who, according to press releases and news reports, is a strong and active binding force in the East End community even while they were living in complete destitution.

"Hey, if they can do it, why can't we?" was the feeling among the coming-and-going volunteers that decidedly did not want the Browns living in a junky house anymore. The Brown house was once half-burnt to a crisp, it was once burglarized to a pulp and it was once the ugliest, saddest house on the block. Now it's beautiful, it has a picket fence and I doubt this family will ever forget the fact that hundreds of complete strangers built it in a week's time. I've also heard that all three kids are getting full scholarships to Western Connecticut State University and the mortgage on the house is completely taken care of.

Not bad. Thank you, old trusty television! Where would we be without you? We'd be poor and uneducated, living in an ugly house, that's where.

I, and many other volunteers I talked to, couldn't help but wonder if Extreme Makeover, having chosen a poverty-stricken neighborhood for the build, would equip the house with an insane security system, but it remained to be seen at the time. I guess we'll have to wait until the show's October air date to find out for sure.

I volunteered on Monday night for about five hours after the Post, News 12, and various radio stations announced an extreme need for help that day.

When I arrived, the volunteer coordinator told me to go home and scrounge up some tools and return to Seaview Ave. It was there that I picked up a blue shirt and hard hat and took a school bus down to Hollister Ave. I never used the tools I brought, nothing hard fell on my hat and the shirt was 15 sizes too big. But that stuff didn't matter at all. The people I met were nothing but happy to be there, even when we were just standing around waiting to be told what to do, which was often.

At one time, there might have been 15 people working on the roof, five people handing out ice-cold wash rags, 30 people nailing siding to the house, 40 people sweeping and gathering trash, 25 people painting walls inside and 20 hanging off to the side waiting for someone in a yellow or red hard hat to tell them what to do next. But everyone was safe. And everyone was helping everyone.

Camera crews hovered all over, mostly picking up on any drama they could find and sometimes stopping the construction progress to get a shot of one of the hosts. And while I didn't get a glimpse of Ty Pennington in all his spiked-hair glory, he'll most likely be in more than half the shots they include in the show.

At one point I was instructed to help lift a gas stove and oven into the kitchen, but there was some confusion over whether or not a range was part of the plans. Steve Gulick, co-owner of the company in charge of construction, stood with me and fellow volunteer Ford Smith (Gulick's Fairfield neighbor) as we waited for a decision and he pointed out the towering camera aimed at us. We imagined a time-lapse scene showing the three of us standing still while workers sped by. Hey, if it happens, I'm the tall guy in the huge blue shirt, and so is Mr. Smith.

We heard rumors of being an entire day behind, but now, since the house is done and the family is living there happily, I wonder if the rumors were started just to get the workers to move quicker. If so, they worked. If not, well, they still worked.

Last week's workers went in strangers and came out experts in non-verbal communication. Grunts and inaudible yells were easily translated into orders, and orders were quickly translated into action. Lessons-learned include the fact that six people working together for six minutes can clean an entire yard and five people working together for 30 minutes can paint an entire room. People came and went all day and all night for a week and if they didn't stop and look at the progress, it was already too late to see it.

To think what it would be like to be on the receiving end of the show's famous "Door Knock," it's a wonder the Browns didn't pass out when they were chosen. Hey, family, wanna go to California? Yes, it's free. Yeah, and when you come back you'll basically live in a castle. Also for free. Sound like something you can handle?

Fred Brown (16), upon seeing the house last Wednesday, answered with back flips and handstands; Bobbi (17) and Jana'e (14) fell to the ground, and their perfectly jolly mother threw her handkerchief-grasping hands in the air. It was Habitat for Humanity meets The Price is Right and for every part of the program that's a silly reality show, there's an equal part that really makes it a really amazing, happy idea.

Could the hand of God be involved? More likely, it was the hand of some ABC-TV executive who chose Bridgeport for CT's film industry tax breaks.

But that doesn't matter: Even in these war-torn times, or whatever, it is virtually impossible to have doubts about humanity after volunteering and witnessing the hundreds of strangers working together for the first and probably only time.

Gathering of the Hippies: Good Vibes for Everyone

2007-08-14T09:36:00.000-07:00

(Published 8/15/07 in Fairfield Weekly)
If you’re curious about what traveling with the circus is like, living with the smelliest and craziest people on the planet on the hottest days of summer, or if you’ve ever wanted to party with men on 12-foot stilts spinning in the sun, ignoring all your brain cells to the point of complete musical serenity, go to the Vibes next year.

Will we host it next year? G.O.V. Communication Director Jon Lobdell said, “We are very hopeful to be welcomed back. We loved it there.”

And what’s not to love? Picture the usually empty fields of Seaside Park filled with thousands and thousands of hippies, hundreds of tie-dyed vending tents and a giant yoga peace circle, and you’ve got an idea of the overwhelming and totally unbelievable sight last weekend. Mr. P.T. Barnum sat in his giant chair looking out to the ocean and had no idea what was going on behind him. Maybe that’s good, but I’d say he was missing out.

Until the place was cleaned Sunday night, every picnic bench was taken, every trash can was filled and all the lush green grass was trampled. Native Americans cried single tears all weekend and the hippies were too high to notice. But we were all a part of the “Vibe Tribe,” and I saw so many people picking up cans and bottles all weekend that I was moved to do the same. There were reminders all weekend to recycle, to keep the place looking better than last week and even to pick up your neighbor’s trash. And most people did.

Only the baseball fields were off limits to campers and no space was off limits to drug-dealers. You have to listen close, though, or you could miss out (but maybe that’s a good thing). “Rolls” are ecstasy pills, “doses” are LSD, “headies” or “nuggets” means pot, “tabs” is usually acid, “boomers” is shrooms and “yip yap” is cocaine. Oh, beautiful Bridgeport park, how innocent you were with your small-scale drug dealing before this jam-packed insanity rolled on through.

George Clinton showed everyone why “Funk is so Loaded” by requesting a bowl from the crowd, and receiving one. The Deep Banana Blackout came out donned in black suits, and the normally-shirtless Fuzz kept his on the whole time. Jen Durkin and Bob Weir were at the top of their festival game, playing with almost everyone Friday and Saturday, each time more energetic than the last. Keller Williams did not play as a bluegrass trio the whole time (as predicted last week), layering together recorded clips of his own live music for at least two mind-blowing solo jams. Les Claypool scared everyone with his pig mask and wildly eccentric bass solos before removing the mask and playing with Weir and a drummer in one of the most confusing performances of the weekend. The Wailers revived all Marley’s songs with great Jamaican energy and was a common favorite from what I heard on my many walks to and from the camping area.

Life at the festival was hot, sweaty, hungry, thirsty, and it reeked of pot. The cops don’t care though, and the kids think it’s tobacco. The point is to get as gross as possible and survived hell with a smile. If world-famous “hippie geezer” Wavy Gravy can, anybody can. The man was the human manifestation of psychedelic mushrooms, announcing tripped-out revelations about space and time before each band.

Maybe you went into the event totally unable to dance. You might not like sitting in a shade-less sun-blazed field for eight hours and you might not want any of the overly-available drugs. But none of that really matters. It’s all about hearing great music, trying to find the shade, loving your fellow man and woman and dancing like an absolute idiot.

You let go of everything outside the fenced perimeter and allow the music to seep in through your red, raw skin. Work doesn’t matter, traffic is a long-lost worry and clean clothes are pointless to the point of being hilarious. Become an animal, jump in the mud and come along for the ride. You’re not in a cubicle anymore, and you’re not even stuck doing yard work. It’s just feel-good funky music playing from 10 a.m. to 2 a.m. for no other reason than to help you wiggle in the sun. Joyful adults, laughing children and a completely friendly attitude that’s different from anything you can find anywhere else. People literally travel across the world for this sort of thing.

I knew the whole gathering of the Vibes scene was especially unorthodox for the Bridgeport area. But what I couldn’t figure out was whether it was because the festival was so close to pristine towns like Westport, Southport and Fairfield or if it was because the festival was actually in Bridgeport. These festivals usually take place in the middle of nowhere, in an abandoned farm in Ohio or upstate New York. With so many attempts to advertise the changing perceptions of slummy B-Po this year, it seems the Vibes weekend was a real “Bridgeport. Who Knew?” moment.

Jack White Handed Me His Microphone

2007-07-28T10:51:00.000-07:00

*****Sorry this is the only picture I have. This is not what I expected to happen. I had to choose between using my photo pass and keeping my front row spot. You can ask anyone in the front row with me... it was a difficult group decision to make. If I had used the pass, I would have had to leave the seating area after the alloted 3-song time period you get in the photo pit, and there's no way I'd be able to fight my way back up to the front.*****

Wednesday I saw Jack and Meg at the Wallingford Theater, which is in the middle of Nowhere, CT. It was there that I stood front row, right in front of Meg for a show that made '07 feel like '67. I felt like I was in the crowd for a Jimi Hendrix show.

Jack wore bright red pants, a bright red shirt, and a pair of bright red aligator leather shoes he jumped around in all over the bright red slick floor his incredibly well-dressed stage hands (pictured below) had put there for him. His iconic shadow lingered on the bright red wall behind him as he tore ass through each blues-smothered song, especially when he played keys and guitar at the same time. Or when he pressed the guitar up against the stairs and the mic stand, because who uses fingers to play guitar? Or when he moon-walked across the stage. This guy knows all the tricks. Oh, and Meg is very sexy. I have no idea why anyone would divorce her, but I trust Jack's decision. She was simultaneously silent and ear-shattering and her sassy attitude was priceless. I've completely fallen in love. She's a sly little coy beauty who, along with Jack, belongs in another time period entirely.

Me and my small Asian sidekick showed up to the event 3 hours early. We had GA Pit tickets, so we were determined to be front and center. But we were not determined enough, it seemed. If at some point you ever decide you're a really big fan of something... you're probably not. And while obsession isn't always a bad thing, let me tell you about the time I went to a White Stripes concert and saw a bunch of fans that made me sick, made me hate fans and made me pissed to be a fan....

There is always someone showing up for the show earlier than you. And we didn't care, this was a concert. We'd done our part to shwo up early and we were excited for what Jack had in store for us. This was his and Meg's night and we just happened to be there. This was a White Stripes concert, the only real concert left for us these days. We were all in this together, but these fools were ready to kill to get what they wanted...front and center. If the Whites knew about these people, they would have left.

As the pompous ones formed a line at one door to the seating area of the theater, the decent folks (me and my new friends who shared my disgust) banded together and formed their own line at another door on the other side of the rear of the theater. For the next 45 minutes the two lines remained at war until the dickhead line got let in first. We ran down stairs, throw hallways and right up the stage. It was, as I'd assumed, big enough for everyone. The decent folks helped eachother out, once more people came. We saved spots for eachother on the front line when someone went to the bathroom or the merch table.

It was exactly the way a concert should be. A celebration of the one thing that has the power to fill the world with color and sound and meaning: real music made by real people, seemingly untouched by anything evil. Jack and Meg have found a way to produce pure creativity and pure energy, without a filter and without apology. But who'd ask them to say sorry?

I found the setlist on a few sites, but only one gave me what I wanted. I wanted to know the name of the song that Jack asked me to sing. That's right...you read the headline...he handed me his fucking microphone. It was during the encore, and Blue Orchid was over. Jack had started a new song, and I was surprised to have never heard it.

I was singing along for virtually the entire show, but I had to just listen to this one. It could have been a minute into the song, it could have been five...I'll never know, but he stepped out of his red-heaven stage setting and walked up to the front of the stage where no lights could find him. Right in front of me. He's singing, playing guitar, and towering over me. I reached up for a fist-pound and locked eyes screaming something. Then he handed me (or maybe it was the girl next to me) the microphone. She got it first and just held it. Still as death. She handed it to me. Jack mouthed the words to me. I stopped screaming and actively dropped my jaw. I was as stone-still as anyone should be when Jack White hands you something. I screamed "OH SHIIITTTTTTT" into it and passed the mic down the line of people reaching for it. Someone yelled "You're excellent!" but nobody knew the words to the song. Priceless. Awkward, too, I guess...but priceless.

The man in red walked back to his red zone and I think I saw him laughing at us. His classy stagehand yoinked the mic back by the cord and he put it back in the stand. Jack went right into "Ball and Biscuit" and the crowd went wild for the impromptu keyboard solo he slipped in there.

I don't know if you've ever gone to a concert hoping to actually get on stage and spend some time with the band, of course not actually believing it'd happen, but I felt like it'd had just happened to me. Turns out the song I was supposed to sing (Party of Special Things to Do) was released by SubPop in 2000 as a 7-inch single. It goes for $50 on ebay now. It's like the rarest song they've got or something, and he basically asked me (and the girl next to me, whatever) to sing it with him. I think I have nothing more to say about that show, but that'd probably a lie.

Thanks for reading...here's what they played:

Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground
Yer Blues
I Think I Smell a Rat
Icky Thump
Sugar Never Tasted So Good
Hotel Yorba
I'm Finding It Harder to Be a Gentleman
The Big Three Killed My Baby
Now Mary
Catch Hell Blues
I'm Slowly Turning Into You
The Same Boy You've Ever Known
As Ugly As I Seem
300 M.P.H. Torrential Blues
Astro/Jack the Ripper

Encore:
Blue Orchid
(Captain Beefheart’s) Party of Special Things to Do
Ball and Biscuit
I Just Don't Know What to Do with Myself

Spoon Review: Go Ga Ga Over "Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga"

2007-07-13T13:16:00.000-07:00

(Published in Fairfield County Weekly, July 18)
http://www.fairfieldweekly.com/article.cfm?aid=1924
http://www.hartfordadvocate.com/article.cfm?aid=1940

A love affair with a band usually goes like this: You hear their first album, love it, then move onto their second, third, fourth and they all start to sound like a sad old man with no remaining original thoughts.

A love affair with Spoon, on the other hand, will bring you nothing but whatever the musical equivalent of obsessively passionate sex is. From the get-go, Spoon has been churning out fantastic stand-alone albums, regardless of label problems and representation issues in the late 90s, each one somehow better than the last. Now with six, the experimental and minimalist Austin, TX rock band is being referred to in some circles as the best rock band on the planet. If they’re right, and you don’t know Spoon, you’ll find out about them soon enough. Like, now.

That’s the joy of this band, you feel like you’ve found a treasure. They have some Kinks, some Stooges and some Rolling Stones and they have the same investigational spirit of Radiohead or a relaxed David Bowie, but they remain their own entity.

I got their new CD, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, a few weeks ago (a big thanks to self-proclaimed zombie, Drew Taylor) and haven’t stopped listening to it since. If I’ve taken it out of my car, it’s only been to show it off. Hey, people, listen to this! Listen to what some of some fellow humans beings are capable of!

Spoon is known for minimalist piano and guitar-driven rock melodies, backed usually by some light and detailed Jim Eno drums. Their danceable, slick vibe never fails to fill a dull moment with elaborate color. On this album, which is a 36-minute stylistic combo of Kill the Moonlight, Gimme Fiction and Girls Can Tell, the lyrics are sneaky and brilliant and the vocal style is crisper and bouncier than ever. After seeing them at a fully-packed Toad’s Place in April to promote Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, I gained some insight into Daniel’s teasing approach to the microphone. He’s got this emotionally charged step-forward, step-back, Mic Jagger-like rock approach that’ll get any crowd worked up.

Daniel’s guitar on this album goes from deep and smooth to spastic and chunky making for an anything-but-dull sound. The thumping piano, perfect backing vocals and other eerie screams and whispers get the job done and make you wonder why other bands aren’t as efficiently weird and experimental as Spoon. The whole album feels like inspiration. Forget the iPhone, go buy Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga. If you put it on in the car you might invent something.

Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga comes complete with howling swing trumpets on “Underdog” and “You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb,” which is the best song on the album. Fans of the song “Jonathan Fisk,” off Kill the Moonlight, will love the jogging bass drum on “Cherry Bomb,” never mind the explosively catchy vocals. Flamenco guitar stylings decorate “My little Japanese Cigarette Case,” which seems to be Spoon’s witty version of Clapton’s “Cocaine” and some recorded talk-back on “Don’t You Evah” and “Eddie’s Ragga” help bring you right into their recording studio where all the peculiar decisions were made.

The new single, “Underdog,” was a clever choice, as it spells out an important message about corporate ignorance and the American tendency to overlook music that’s hard to find. If you really think the only power in the music industry lies in the hands of the big four, you’re going to get bit. Bit by bands like Spoon. I can only hope this single won’t be on the Disney’s Underdog soundtrack because that would take some serious steps toward negating every positive I say about them. But they won’t do that.

With Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, Spoon brings energetic and self-motivated indie rock to a new level, which, at 36 minutes, nobody but Spoon can accurately do.

Let's Go Rob a Bank

2007-07-10T08:34:00.000-07:00

(Published in the Fairfield County Weekly, 7/11)

Good news for everybody out there who’s a little low on cash or who’s a little bored of the daily grind. Try something new and exciting. Rob a bank. Be a bandit for a couple days.

Bank tellers and lackadaisical bank policies are helping to put Fairfield on the map as the “Connecticut’s Most-Robbed County” this year, with around 17 so far and a record-breaking five in Norwalk in one month. Fairfield might even surpass the record set last year, with 21. Tellers are accepting simple hand-written notes in place of checks or withdrawal slips and have an abundance of extra money sitting around.

You don’t need to be courageous, armed or even cause a scene. No gun was shown in any of these cases, no people got down on their stomachs and no snipers were called in. Just a couple of guys with a clever idea to get rich, that’s all. The two biggest players have been arrested already, so the town needs a new burglar-hero. Don’t let the prospect of a bright orange jumpsuit hold you back. Jail comes and goes. These dudes will be out soon, and so will you!

Just follow the lead of the “white, olive-skinned male” who robbed both the Bank of America branch in the Dock Shopping Center Friday and the Chase Bank on Main St. in Bridgeport, along with two others in the area. His name is Carmine Delgaizo and he was arrested in Westchester in late June. It seems he was the first to use the note idea, simply passing a note to the teller, implying the presence of a gun.

Or, you could follow the lead of the thin 6-foot tall black man, later identified as Anthony Thigpen, also arrested, who robbed the People’s Bank in Stratford, the Bank of America in Fairfield by the Kings Highway Cutoff, and three others. This guy knows irony. He wore a white shirt with the picture of a dollar bill on it when he robbed the one in Fairfield. That almost makes it OK, doesn’t it?

It seems the two have been the busiest of any others, totaling at least nine combined heists together. Each man walked away with “an undisclosed amount of cash” every time. No questions asked. And look at his picture of Delgaizo. Do you see the shit he’s eating with that grin? Not only will this note idea make you rich, it’ll apparently raise your self-esteem! Act quick, because last year’s robbery record won’t get broken by itself. There are only 5 months left. And, who knows when these tellers will end their generosity. Don’t know about you, but an undisclosed amount of cash sound pretty nice. So, start brainstorming on clever ways to let your favorite bank teller know “that this is a hold-up,” because there’s money out there to be had.

Joe Lieberman VS Iran: 5 Other Things He Wants to Destroy

2007-06-11T14:53:00.000-07:00

(Published in The Fairfield County Weekly) 6/14/07
According to the former democrat Joe Lieberman, the U.S. needs to bomb Iran soon. They’re apparently getting out of hand. Thank God he made his secret independent trip to Iraq that everyone knew about as soon as he arrived, because we wouldn’t know any of this without him. I mean, the man’s voice alone is mesmerizing, never mind his passionate inside information about Iran, a country we had no idea was a threat.

He said Sunday on the CBS interview show “Face the Nation” that there’s a base in Iran near the coast of Iraq that’s training soldiers to kill other soldiers. American ones. Like, 200 of them. It’s not that the recent death toll has made me numb to, say, other death tolls, but 200 isn’t that many.

“If they don’t play by the rules,” Lieberman said, “we’ve got to use our force.” Shockingly unaware until now that we’re at war, Lieberman is doing everything he can to make sure we all know he’s pissed at people who are pissed at Americans.
“If there’s any hope of the Iranians living according to the international rule of law and stopping, for instance, their nuclear weapons development,” he said, “We can’t just talk to them.”

Wait, we can’t? Oh right, the war thing. Yeah, you’re probably right. Bomb the shit out them, and don’t forget their families. But whatever you do, don’t talk to them, Joe. Sit in front of an American flag and talk to Bob Schieffer. He’ll televise it on a Sunday morning, and then by Monday the Iranians will know your plan. They’ll up the training power, build another nuclear weapon plant and put one of those nifty black bags over your head. Then you can talk to them. You brave, resourceful little white-haired man.

But Lieberman loves his country, aside from the fact that it allows porn on the internet, and he just wants to shield us from harm. He sees his window of bombing opportunity, and he wants to take it. And if he stays down there long enough, they might even let him push the button.

In fact, he told one of the Weekly’s many correspondents in Iraq, while on a short break at Baghdad Country Club, “I’m not going to say napalm is a good idea. But I will say that if you accidentally misquote me, it’ll sure look like I said that.”
As a sign of good faith, and in an effort to ensure everyone knows his plans before he acts, Sen. Lieberman sent the Weekly a list of 5 other “entities” he’d like to destroy, “As soon as Americanly possible.”

5.) All “Planet Earth” competition. I want to be able to know that when I pick up an HD DVD of an earth documentary, that it’s going to kick ass. I’m talking never-before seen footage, a clear picture, the whole thing. This is the only way to save “Planet Earth.”

4.) Gas stations. Do you even know how expensive gas is? Well, it’s crazy. I say we knock ‘em out one at a time, until we get to the top. Like Bruce Willis would.

3.) Dandelions. You know what I’m fucking talking about. Green is in, and together we can keep America’s lawns fashionable!

2.) McDonalds. My wife and I are going on a mission next month to Darfur to educate the people of the dangers of McDonalds soft-serve ice cream, which is gaining popularity at an alarming rate there.

1.) Immigration in Iraq. If I’ve learned anything here in Iraq at all, it’s that terrorists depend on people from other countries. Weapons, money, women. They don’t come from Iraq. I say, nobody gets let in who’s not already in. That way nobody can help the terrorists. Trust me, this one can work.

Midi and the Modern Dance:

2007-06-11T14:43:00.001-07:00

(Published in the Fairfield County Weekly 5/31/07)
Everyone in the crowd at Toquet Hall in Westport is in high school and nobody on stage can legally drive yet. The band looks young, acts young and talks too much. Lead singer Omeed Goodarzi nervously rambles about his favorite foods, his undying love for every person in the crowd, and he admits the glasses he’s wearing are not his own.

Lead guitarist Sam Abelow tightens his strings, keyboardist Mikey McGovern tightens his tie, Jack Aldrich tightens his snare, and bassist Akbar Mirza just stands there.

Toquet Hall, a small, old concert space near the Westport Public Library, employs both Goodarzi and McGovern as board members, and they help book and promote bands that fill the place. Tonight it’s mostly full with about 50 people inside. The sign outside says it’s a “teen coffee house,” but there’s no coffee to be found in the place. What you do find is a bunch of energetic young people fiending for original music they can dance to. They’ve brought their own coffee.

“OK, let’s do this,” Abelow says. Goodarzi slowly calms down, closes his eyes and grabs hold of the microphone. He instantly ages five or six years as the first line escapes his mouth. “If I could dance, side by side with you, a glance / Maybe a wave or two / Could you? Could I? Could we?” It’s not always his lyrics that pull you in, but the command he has over his vocal chords.

The band kicks in. An impressively intricate drum beat, a mature, jazzy keyboard and guitar tone, a delicate and mellow bass line and a soothing harmony come from the young rockers on stage. The song “Mother May I” builds into a sophisticated waltz, and the crowd sways at the band’s feet. In the same song, intricate turns into loud, jazzy turns into distorted, delicate turns into commanding and soothing turns into eerie. But it’s all carried out nicely by Goodarzi’s controlled and passionate voice. The crowd isn’t swaying anymore. They’re going nuts. Arms are flailing, teenaged girls are singing along and screaming their names. Everyone is front is dancing, and the band is loving it.

Meet Midi and the Modern Dance. They are the self-proclaimed best band in Westport. They’ve only been a band since January, but after their May 18 Toquet Hall performance, they were picked up by Boston record label Hotel Valkenburg with intentions to record, promote and book shows.

Move over, John Mayer…

Well, OK, maybe not, but wouldn’t it be great to tell him to?

Midi’s tight live show and their surprisingly professional-sounding EP make the band full of promise. They’ve been in and out of bands with each other, and Aldrich is currently a singer and guitarist in another band, but, according to Abelow, “This is the combination we think works the best.”

These sophomores at Staples High School are sophomores in the true sense of the word: They’re realistic enough to know that they haven’t been playing for too long, but they’re youthfully disillusioned enough to believe they’ll never stop making music together. “Basically,” says Goodarzi, “I never want to compromise music for anything else. And I always want to have these four guys helping me out.”

McGovern says the band benefits from not sounding like many other bands in Westport. “I feel like we kind of have a different, like, feel to things,” he says. “We don’t really have as much punk influence. We have more stuff in 3/4. We try to do instrumentation and we try to incorporate those kinds of sounds.”

Ambience, intense lyrics, beautiful singing voices and basically anything that’s mature, intelligent rock is what they seem drawn to. They mainly listen to popular indie bands like Arcade Fire, Bright Eyes, the Decemberists, Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin, Neutral Milk Hotel, Stars and Sound Ambulance, but they also enjoy more notable bands like U2 and Radiohead.

Midi’s inexperience is offset by their easily noticeable mature sound—despite the fact that Midi’s members barely took any lessons. Mirza says, “I did take a couple lessons, but they never helped me.” And all of lead singer Omeed Goodarzi’s bandmates agree that he’s been a naturally gifted singer since the age of 12.

Goodarzi, who is also the main songwriter, is a charming, young Iranian-American. His voice is the first thing you notice when you press play. He might not know how good his voice is, or even how it got so good, but he’s not imitating anyone, “because you don’t want to sound too much like anyone else.”

With zero vocal training, he attributes his skills to his mom’s cooking. “My mom,” he says, “she sings classical Iranian music, which is really strenuous on the voice. She is always singing and cooking. Her two main hobbies.”

The Goodarzis left Iran during the Iranian Revolution in the late ’70s and early ’80s and have been supportive parents since the beginning. “I can’t remember Omeed showing excitement or connection to anything but music,” his father says. “These guys have a vision.”

The band’s vision has most recently been packaged in the form of a five-song EP. It was recorded and produced by Sam Abelow in his parents’ basement, using the equipment his father bought him. Oh, and Mr. Abelow just so happens to be one of two architects on the small team responsible for creating Sterling Sound Studio in New York City, which has been the site for dozens of influential recordings, from alternative rock to world music, jazz and even classical.

Midi and the Modern Dance’s EP doesn’t sound like a 15-year-old produced it in a basement. As a matter of fact, it doesn’t sound like 15-year-olds are playing guitar, bass or keyboard. It definitely doesn’t sound like a 16-year-old is singing on it, and it doesn’t sound like a 16-year-old is drumming. Maybe it’s the equipment and maybe it’s the money, but it doesn’t really matter. Sound is sound, and the thing sounds clear, mature, and the songs are varied enough to showcase their budding and wide-ranging indie-rock talents.

The song “Clear Black Snow,” for example, starts with a slow, teasing build-up complete with some Arcade Fire-esque lyrical stylings, with an emotional Iranian touch. It’s somber, but not boring and it’s peaceful, but not lame. It’s a short song with a quick but well-deserved climax, and it ends with a great do-wop vocal segment.

“All I Know” displays the band’s playfulness and rock know-how (even more so in concert). It’s only an EP, but this would be the single if they were in a position to choose such a thing. Could the guitar tone be reminiscent of the Strokes? No. That would be way too awesome. But it might be the case. And once again, the most striking part of the song is Goodarzi.

“Grey Light,” opens with sounds of the ocean, or perhaps rain, soft drum beats, a thick jazzy guitar and an echoey Goodarzi. If John Mayer’s voice has an overly-breathy, trying-to-be-sexy thing that gets old quick, well, Goodarzi does it better. Get ready to waltz to this one.

The band may have found the perfect vehicle for their vision at the The Hotel Valkenburg label. The innovative Boston-based company will not ask Midi and the Modern Dance to sign anything, or to share their creative rights. They just want good musicians to meet good musicians, and that’s what’s happening in August, when Midi heads to Boston to record a split EP with Dear Ulysses, one of their biggest influences. The guys couldn’t be more excited to be a part of what Aldrich calls a “utopian indie commune.” That commune now consists of three Boston bands: Dear Ulysses, the Peasantry and Murals. They’re all friends and they all record, practice and hang out together in a studio they all help run.

According to its founder, Jordan Kelly, who also started Dear Ulysses, “Hotel Valkenburg is somewhere between an indie record label, recording studio, management firm, merchandise manufacturer-designer and booking agent. It’s like a safe haven where artists can come create, record an album, make some money.” So, if you were a new band with no friends outside of Connecticut, that basically sounds too good to be true.

Well, lucky for Midi and the Modern Dance, Hotel Valkenburg says they’re the ones that are too good to be true. “They are extremely talented,” says Kelly in a late-night email. “I mean, I can remember my high school band, we were just awful. I don’t even think we played a show. Furthermore, Midi was just the sound I was looking for, and as it stands Midi will remain my main focus.”

With this chance of a lifetime, or at least a teenage lifetime, the guys are feeling pretty carefree. “I don’t have any stress,” admitted guitarist and EP producer Abelow. “My dad paid for all my equipment,” he says. “And I didn’t work for it, at all.”

And that’s not a bad thing, it’s just a rich kid thing. When all you have is time, money and zero worries, it can be endlessly easy to waste the time and the money doing nothing but being 16, and maybe doing some drugs. But the young members of Midi and Modern Dance are not doing nothing. And they aren’t doing drugs, either. “We’re all basically straight-edge,” says McGovern.

Time will tell if they’re doing something significant, but it’s no stretch to say that the combination of their stage presence, vocals and strong songwriting has the power to carry their music out of Westport and out of New England.

“We live in a rich town with a lot of really rich people,” says Goodarzi in an alley outside Toquet Hall. “They are able to put us in situations that maybe we deserve, maybe we don’t.” He looked up and behind him and the others as if to suggest Toquet Hall is one of those places.

You can probably find Midi and the Modern Dance practicing in the Abelow household basement or on stage at Toquet Hall, making the kind of noise that maybe, just maybe, will bring them somewhere of rock-significance. You can see it when Abelow looks like he wants nothing more than to get lost on stage in a jumping fit of guitar spasms. Or when Goodarzi runs through a crowd of less than 50 banging on a tom drum, not knowing he’s whacking people in the head with a broken drum stick. Tell the drummer who strapped a tambourine to his foot at an acoustic gig at Barnes and Noble that the music he’s making isn’t fantastic and original. They won’t even listen to you. There’s always a teenager ready to ignore you if you claim rock is dead. And if enough young people don’t listen, then the claim is not true. In Midi and the Modern Dance, you can find five such teenagers.

Alex Claydon's Band: Upcoming CD, Tour, Lunchaboxes

2007-06-11T14:36:00.000-07:00

Photo by Elyse Raby

(Published in The Mirror 5/3/07)
If you're in your own band at Fairfield, there are limited exciting outlets available for your talents. The Levee attracts a total of 50 people per week, and half of them go to Prep. The Dolan Chapel is amazing in theory, but it's a chapel-turned-study hall and everyone knows a priest or something hung himself from the rafters way back when. The BCC and Jazzman's aren't bad, but they are intensely makeshift and sadly lame for a college band. That leaves the smelly Gonzaga Auditorium, the few chances to play outdoors and I don't think I've ever seen a student-run band play at the Quick Center or in Alumni Hall.

The point is, it's not exactly easy to get yourself out there as a band at Fairfield. Unless, of course, you're Alex Claydon's band. If you're Alex Claydon's band, you've played all those places and more, and you've been excited about every single one of them.

Currently Claydon and his regular band, whose name is in the works, are in the studio recording their first album. AJ Piper '08 is still Claydon's regular second-hand (or voice) man and the rest of the band is made up of non-FU musicians. Will Whatley is on drums Pat Cardone is on bass and the group is lucky to have Jen Durkin, from the band Deep Banana Blackout, lending her vocal talent to some of the tracks. They're recording in Monroe, CT in the back rooms and attic of a music store/school owned by musician and sound engineer Jim Swaine, who's doing all the recording for the band.

And after visiting the studio for a recording session last week, it's clear that the process might be more time-consuming than any Engineering class or Philosophy term paper ever completed at Fairfield.

With five songs completed, and at least five more to go, the band isn't even at their halfway mark and they started in mid February. Claydon said this is mainly because they've been juggling classes, work, recording and playing live. Meticulous attention is being paid to every inch of tape that's recorded and from the sounds of "Life Times Too" and "Hold it Down," two finished tracks, it shows.

From seeing the band play live and from hearing his new recordings, Claydon's influences seems to include Allman Brothers Band, Simon and Garfunkel, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Eric Clapton and other tried-and-true musicians with a real knack for creating real and exciting music for anyone who's got ears.

They plan to have all the parts to every song recorded to for a demo CD before the end of the Summer, with a CD finished around the start of school in the Fall. The tracks will be fully mostly unmixed at that time, which means they'll need the finishing touch of a producer. Claydon said the band might be called The Americans by then, but the album name is still up in the air.

His sound engineer, Swaine, is a busy man who'd working into the morning for these guys on at least a weekly basis.

He said, "I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think it was a goo project." He couldn't explain what kind of music it is, but he mentioned classic rock. He said it's good that they don't sound like someone else.

"This is no genre stuff, man," he said.

It is always exciting, but also empowering, to hear about the real hard-workers at Fairfield. And there are plenty of talented musicians on campus, and they're all worth checking out as many times as possible, but Claydon and his band have made it their business to be as present as possible. And now you can expect a full-length CD from them in the Fall.

To keep up on the progress of the band's work or to just listen to some tunes, visit www.myspace.com/alexclaydon

The Rolling Stone Interview: Executive Ediotr Joe Levy

2007-06-11T14:29:00.000-07:00

(Published in The Mirror on 4/5/07)
It seems that every senior at Fairfield University ends up with some sort of internship at some sort of magazine, PR firm or financial giant. Being no exception, I've found myself working for Rolling Stone in New York City.

The internship has allowed me to take a backstage look at how one of the world's most historically significant magazines works. Most recently I was able to talk with executive editor Joe Levy in his office to talk about the selection process for a cover, the close of the magazine's MTV reality show, "I'm From Rolling Stone" and what actual editors look for when hiring new writers.

Sean Corbett: The magazine survived its first reality show, are there any plans for a second season?

Plenty of us would be happy to do a second season. It really depends on if MTV is interested in doing a second season. And that I don't know. I know a lot of people who do shows with them who don't hear until deep into the process whether they'll do another season. The guys who did "The White Rapper," which was a great show, won't know whether they'll come back to do another. And that was one of the best rated shows on VH1 this season. What they're looking for exactly, I don't know. This isn't a show they went into thinking it would be their top-rated show, although that would have been nice.

SC: Was this originally an idea put forth by MTV or by Rolling Stone?

This is an idea that kicked around a lot, in one form or another. It's something that many people inside the magazine and outside, and in fact people walking down the street might have had after Cameron Crowe's "Almost Famous" came out. That was five years ago. And almost instantly after it came out, people said "Oh, you've got to do that as a TV show." And doing that as a TV show would have necessitated finding some 15 year old kid who was and insipid genius. So, that did seem one hurdle. The other of course is that, it's just not like it was in 1974. It's not a matter of that magazine not being like it was in 1974, it's entertainment journalism that's not like it was in 1974. It's no longer a matter of waiting around at the stage door and talking your way onto the bus after a gig. It's much more business than that, and everyone knows it.

SC: What were the main intentions behind the show? Was it intended to attract a younger demographic to the magazine?

Certainly I think one of its intentions is to bring the magazine to an audience that might not come naturally to us. With that said, the main intention of the television show was to make a good television show.

SC: And you feel that happened?

Well, you tell me. You know, I guess it happened, if it happened for you. Yeah, I think that the show had certain obstacles to overcome. First obstacle being that the act of writing is not inherently dramatic. You know, the dramatic part of it is struggling to find a story and making a deadline. This is not cliffhanger television stuff. Our intention was to avoid the trappings of a reality show. We wanted to make it about the work, and not about the hot tub or the interpersonal conflict. And it generally did a good job at delivering something that had a more documentary feel than a reality cliche feel.

SC: What do you say about the criticisms of the show, like jumping on the reality show bandwagon?

Well, we hope it was different from a reality show. And honestly, we're a little late to jump on the reality show bandwagon. Which may, in fact, be the criticism. Jumping on the bandwagon is something we should have done while the bandwagon was still picking up speed. If we were jumping on the bandwagon, we'd have to jump on the game show bandwagon. And I would love to find a way to turn the magazine into "Deal or No Deal," but I'm not sure how.

SC: Do you think this show is bridging the gap between MTV and Rolling Stone, two of history's most influential forces in music and entertainment?

You know, the common complaint about MTV is that they don't show videos anymore. Just as the common complaint about Rolling Stone is that we don't cover music anymore. And I've worked here for 10 years, and for a good portion of that time I was the Music Editor and I had to edit 60% of the pages in the magazine. And I'd get a little amazed and pisses when people say we don't cover music, and literally 60% of what's in the magazine, sometimes, is music coverage.

Similarly, I guess MTV has some right to be a little pissed that people say they don't show music videos when by God they do show music videos from five in the morning until nine a.m. That's four solid hours of music videos. People who make those criticisms of MTV mean they don't show them during prime time anymore. They do show them in the morning before school and they do show them in the afternoon, after school. They are there. The show is certainly intended to show MTV as interested in music, and interested in music journalism. And to find another way to put music on their network. For us, it's a chance to highlight the music content of Rolling Stone.

SC: Do you think a show about beginner music journalists reflects a desire for new music journalists, a new voice in the business?

Sure, I mean there's always a need for new voices, broadly speaking. There's plenty of room for new voices, and more encouragement and possibility for new voices in music journalism now than there every was before, and that's simply because the world online journalism means something now. And it really didn't five years ago. The act of music blogging is a very, very different thing than music journalism. And the prominence of Pitchfork and PopMatters as destination sites for music obsessives on the internet really give young voices a place and a kind of leverage a place that they didn't have five years ago.

SC: Do you and other editors look to the blogs for new writers?

If, as a young voice, your hope is to break into Rolling Stone or Entertainment Weekly or Spin or Altertaive Press, you're trying to the exact same thing that about 7,500 other kids who own a couple of Stooges bootlegs and the new Arcade Fire record would also like to do. And the odds are not good.

The fact that online blogging, or PopMatters, gives a young voice a place to develop and find a voice, is great. That's not the voice of Rolling Stone, and while we are constantly looking for new voices, we're not looking for that blog voice. I'm looking for someone who understands a little more about reporting and a little more about magazine writing. But we have always kept an eye and an ear out.

What I look for is somebody who has more experience than their college newspaper, and who has done something in-depth or intelligent. Original ideas, good writing. I don't want to make it sound too easy, but these are things that are not as common as you'd hope.

SC: Would you say you have a dream job? Interviewing bands, important friends, one of the best music journalism resumes in the world?

Well, I mean, I don't know. When I started doing this 20 years ago, if you told me this is what I'd be doing now I would have said something sarcastic and turned up whatever Replacements record I was listening to.

SC: Now that you have it, is it a job you love?

For me, it's been a great job. You know, I've been here close to 10 years. I love music. I love writing. I love popular culture. I love the variety of things that we cover in Rolling Stone and that I'm able to work on at Rolling Stone. So yeah, for me it's great. And I still get to be sarcastic and listen to Replacements records, so that's cool too.

SC: I read in the online chat posted on Rolling Stone's website that someone asked you about the direction of pop music. You said there are still great bands among the crappy ones, making great albums. You cited non-mainstream pop artists like Of Montreal and The Arcade Fire. Are they worthy of a Rolling Stone cover?

I would love that to be the case. I have to tell you that the cover is there, in part, to sell the magazine, and that I don't get to put my very favorite band on the cover once a year. I would love it if someone would give me one cover to do whatever I wanted to with. I think that it's quite possible that the Arcade Fire is worth a cover, but I actually think that they have to engage an audience a little more before that happens.

SC: So the criteria and process for choosing the cover story, it seems, is about what's most popular at the time. How do you know when it's time to do a Panic! At the Disco cover, followed by Fall Out Boy?

Well, it's a mystery criteria and process. It is not the case that thing that sells the most records is going to automatically go on the cover. It's just not true, otherwise we would have done a Nickleback cover by now.

You can't point to one figure that people seem fascinated with. Or, if there is one figure, they don't seem fascinated in what that figure is doing, they seem fascinated in that person's life falling apart. Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears. Nobody's interested in what Lindsay is doing on screen, or what Britney might do on record. You're interested in what they're doing in the bathroom of whatever club they're visiting.

And in times like this, it's not obvious what to do with the cover. We did a Panic! At the Disco cover, we did a Falout Boy cover. They actually happened closer together than we originally meant. We weren't planning on James Brown dying. But I wanted to do a Panic! At the Disco cover because to me they were a teen pop band. You go to their concert and it's actually like going to an N'Sync concert. Those mother fuckers could put on a show. It's not about whether I like their songs.

And then when the cover comes very close to a Fall Out Boy cover, yeah, it feels like we are suddenly trying to latch onto the emo bandwagon. And it's hard to, because the emo bandwagon is covered with tears, my friend, it is covered with tears.

But, for me, the idea of putting Fall Out Boy on the cover came from the fact that here was a rock band who wanted to make a great record and sell a lot of records. The idea of a band of their nature hiring Babyface to produce a couple tracks. I love Babyface. I think Babyface is a great, great R&B producer. And, to me, it recalls great moments in pop where people were interested in crossing boundaries. Reaching out to new audiences.

SC: What is the most important thing for aspiring music journalists to learn?

A lot of writers are good at describing their opinions, and are less good at articulating something about the relationship between the performer and the audience. And I have to admit, since I'm capable of forming my own opinions, I'm really more interested in someone who can tell me something about the music and possibly an insight into the relationship between the performer and the audience. And it's not easy. Writing about music is hard. I was amazed when I read the Bob Dylan autobiography at how interesting and evocative and dead-on his descriptions of music were. Because I read them thinking, Wow. I know he's a genius and all, but it really isn't fair that he can do this better than other people, as well. It just doesn't seem right.

The oldest advice about writing is to write and read as much as you can. And that holds true. Hunter Thompson talked a lot about typing the writers he loved. Sitting down and typing out a page of Hemmingway or Fitzgerald, to learn how it worked. Now there's a guy who took that idea of reading to the next level. He wanted to literally figure out how it worked, and teach himself the rythms of their prose. And the really interesting thing about Thompson, who started out as a journalist, a daily newspaper guy. An armed forces newspaper guy. The interesting thing about him, sitting down typing several pages of Hemmingway, is there's a writer who's very unlike Hunter Thompston. Who's not florid or Gonzo. Who's controlled and lucid. It shows you that in order to write the way someone like Thompson did, you really have to have the basic skills down down rock-fucking solid. You have to be able to write in the paired-back, lucid manner if you want to take the hinges off, put ether on the floor-boards and drive to Las Vegas, you can.

Theater Fairfield Outdoes Itself, or Why You Should Leave Your Stupid Dorm Room and Do Something

2007-06-11T14:22:00.000-07:00

Photos by Theater FU

(Published in The Mirror, 3/8/07)
Have you ever written a play? I mean, really written a play. Maybe you’ve sat down and thought about it, but have you ever spent weeks or months working on lines, character development, mixing humor and dark sarcasm, while at the same time keeping set design, sound cues and lighting in mind? I’d say that few have.
And at Fairfield, those few are seniors Darci Fulcher, Jodie Pfau, Dan Scivoletti and Jared Mezzocchi. Together with Wendy Scola ’08, the team of writers and directors scattered their leadership roles throughout the three one-act plays.
Mezzocchi, somehow right around the same time he finished filming a mind-blowing theater/film project, wrote the terribly honest and ultimately uplifting “Merry Christmas,” which was directed by Scola. Time in the play actually flowed in reverse. The opening scene showed an angry father screaming the truth about Santa to his young son on Christmas morning.
You slowly learned that it’s a legitimate backlash against his wife, who was sleeping loudly with the neighbor on Christmas Eve. But it’s all good, because the play ended with the family happy and the couple in love, all thanks to clever and careful usage non-linear story telling.

Evan Barden ’08 and Elizabeth Thompson ’09 played an all-too believable married couple while Kira Gustafon ’10, and I mean no disrespect, played an excellent and completely adorable young boy. She almost completely became a human puppy – very fun to watch.
Thompson played a perfect tired-of-something, sneak-around wife. At the end of the play, which was actually the beginning, it’s amazing to think that her seemingly pure character is capable of ruining Christmas. But then again, Barden’s character played a pretty big role in that, too.
Speaking of which, it’s important for all future casting teams to know that Barden, with the snap of anyone’s fingers, can go from insanely deranged and frighteningly angry to delusional and depressed to maniacal, and then with another snap he can pull off a loving father willing to give up anything for his wife and child. If there’s a future play with Barden in it, go see it.
Scivoletti penned the brilliant and colorful supervillian comedy “Henchmen,” which was directed by Mezzocchi. It was funnier than what’s on TV and what’s in the theaters, combined. Think: Sarah Silverman Project, Zach Galifianakis, mid-nineties Ben Stiller and late-nineties Dane Cook. Scivoletti knows how to write.
They saved it for last in the line-up of the three, and when the set started to roll out, everyone was already laughing. It was like a movie set, complete with working vault doors, collapsible brick walls, a completely evil kitchen and a water cooler. The audience didn’t even know what to do when a re-bearded man, Jeremy Shea ’10, with a volcano strapped to his head named Lavabotomy walked into Green Baron’s office to interview for a side-kick job. Shea’s comedic timing alone would have saved the play, if it needed saving.
He didn’t get the job because Green Baron, Tone da Costa ’08, doesn’t like to kill people, and Lavabotomy does. This caused for some insanely funny battle sequences, while Green Baron’s secretary packed up her desk an quit her job.
Everything was brightly colored, with dark lines, as if it were all drawn for a comic book. Scivoletti said, in a very “Hollywood Squares” kind of way, he was trying to “achieve world peace” with this play. The serious reason behind it was “comedy needs to have meaning.”
The audience not only carried their laughter pains out the door with them after “Henchmen” closed the evening’s plays, many had no choice but to carry life lessons out with them, too. Life lessons like, if you’re a super villain who wants to take over the world, it’s OK if you don’t want to kill anyone in the process. It’s virtues like this that can make you a more powerful tyrant, a more memorable character and a better friend to your annoyed secretary.
Pfau and Fulcher wrote and directed “Do You Realize?,” perhaps the most important of the three. It was a play about the dangers of relying too much on what other people think about you, and it didn’t come across as cheesy. Don’t ask how they did it.
Conversations between the simply dressed cast members included revealing exchanges between a punk-dressing son and his disappointed father, a soliloquy from an older sister to her younger sister about growing up and staying true to yourself no matter what TV and mean friends tell you. The play comes from a group on campus called “Project Peg,” which is trying to raise some serious beauty awareness. The play held a wonderful message for anyone with a body: “Stop fixing it, it was never broken.”
Each playwright created from scratch, with the help of many friends/co-workers, some of the best and most original theater to have graced any stage, anywhere. To say the performances were impressive would be to sell them short. The performances were professionally shocking and ultimately inspiring to know the actors, crew and directors go to school here.

Menomena: Rub a Dub Dub, Trippy Indie Rock in the Tub

2007-03-01T23:25:00.000-08:00

Photo by Alicia J Rose

(Published in The Mirror 2/15/07)
As recently as three years ago, the members of Menomena were hand-making their albums' packaging in their homes to distribute across the world. Only a select few knew how insanely promising their sound was.

Now, they're getting ready to tour the country, they're selling out shows and they, without a doubt, have this year's best album art. Their album sounds like 10 people are in the band, but there's only three. They write their songs independent of each other and then come together later to record them and learn how to play them. While these days it seems like success only comes to those who sound like everyone else, Menomena is a true phenomena.

I had a candid phone conversation with Brent Knopf (guitar/keys/glockenspiel) about the size of the band, a do-it-yourself approach to album making and their upcoming tour.

Sean: Where are you?

Brent: I'm in Portland.

S: I was hoping you'd be in Hawaii, I read somewhere that you've spent some time there. It's like 9 degrees here.

B: Actually that's Danny. He grew up in Hawaii and I grew up here in Portland.

S: I see. Well, you're a small band of three close friends. I see your whole feel as being very small-scale. What are the benefits of being that small, as opposed to, say, five or more.

B: (Laughter) I was thinking you were heading in the Broken Social Scene or Polyphonic Spree direction. But yeah, I guess it's the only way it can be. We have such strong personalities, and I guess that once you start getting more and more people - you know, already there are too many chefs in the kitchen. I guess that's one benefit, if you add any more people like us to the band, it'd turn into some sort of South Korean parliamentary first fight.

S: And you don't want that, especially if in a Portland band.

B: Yeah, um, I guess… (laughter)…yeah, I'll let it go at that.

S: Cool. And college life, you went to Dartmouth. Where'd the others go?

B: Danny went to the Art Institute of Portland, Justin graduated from PNCA, Pacific Northwest College of Art. And they're both art school grads and I'm a grad of Dartmouth.

S: I saw one of your animation videos online, and I don't know how. I think I just Googled your name.

B: Wow! Cool, cool. Yeah that was fun. That was for an animation class. That was a lot of fun.

S: Do you plan to incorporate that kind of stuff into music videos?

B: I had planned on that, I actually spent a month of two doing that. I was going to do a video for Strongest Man in the World. And then I had a very bad summer. Just ran out of money, gosh, last year was just really rough. And then we headed out on the tour and I had to pack it all - you know, we were ready to shoot and I had to just pack it all away. It's all in my basement, all these sets and storyboards and characters, and everything was all set to go. But now yeah, I'm actually thinking of resuscitating it to try to incorporate it into a music video. But we'll see, again, we've gotten so busy I don't really have time to do that. Unfortunately I don't have - well, I guess I could do a lo-fi animatation, with a mini-DV camera, but if I'm gonna really do it, maybe I should try to collaborate with someone who has a better camera and a better image-capture machine.

S: And who knows, maybe this album will get you there, right?

B: Ha ha! That's right.

S: So you guys are all art students. How do you incorporate that into a live show? Or do you?

B: Oh, interesting. I'd wager to say that it doesn't figure in that much. We're just all so different, you know? If I was doing a solo project, I would do a live show much differently. The ideas that I have that may be more theatrical, or may be more contrived, are frowned upon by my band mates. Because, for those same reasons. We just, when we get on stage, we're just ourselves. And I think the art school background probably enters in more to the artwork and our packaging and we dedicate a lot of time to that. And also maybe, songwriting. Maybe certain thought or techniques enter into that process. But in terms of the live show, we're not too theatrical yet. We don't have any props or any UFOs that fly away or an special lighting. It's pretty much just us and our instruments playing so far. Although, someone suggested to us that we add like a projection but we'll see what happens.

S: I was going to save this for the end, because it's so awesome. But let's talk about the album art.

B: You're right it IS awesome. And I can say that, because I didn't do it.

S: Yeah, were you guys involved in the idea process at all?

B: We came up with a concept, and some questions and some themes that we wanted to explore. And we approached our friend Craig Thompson and said hey, is this something that would interest you, would you like to potentially design the artwork for our album?

S: And what a friend to have.

B: Phhhew. Holy Cow. I mean, I thought he might spend a couple days on it. He spent sooo much time on it. I mean, I don't know if they were eight hour days, but I know that he was working on it steadily for probably a couple months. Holy Cow. I just didn't - I had no way of knowing, or even imagining, how awesome his work was going to be. I knew he was amazing and I knew all his work, but I had no idea that he was going to take it so far, beyond how we imagined it and turn it into its own piece. I can not be happier. I feel so lucky that we had the chance to work with him.

S: Talk about making an impression.

B: (laughter)

S: I can't really think of anything on par with the whole system of layers and spinning the disc to reveal more layers, and flipping the disc over-

B: Oh! You got that! Wow. Well done, touché. (laughter) I applaud you.

S: Oh great. Will this artwork be a trend? And how often do you think you'll put out an album?

B: If I had a magic wand, we'd put out an album every year and a half, I mean every year. The realities of life, having day jobs and touring. I mean, we work really hard when we work, but we can also be kinda lazy. So, all those things combined conspire to a release schedule of no more frequently than a year a half between albums, unfortunately. I mean, boy, it's so hard to know what to do next. Once Craig's done this, it's scary to think of trying to compete with it.

S: It must be so strange to get this critical acclaim for the music itself, and then also the package itself. Especially in the digital age. People don't want to rip this CD, they want it in their hands.

B: Well, we just want our music to spread. We want people to have an experience that they don't regret having. Something that's meaningful in a good way. And so, we try to take a wide-eyed look at that experience, and realize that the packaging is an important component in that experience. And so if we are going to make a physical CD, and try to sell it in stores, that's an opportunity to do a piece of work and so we took that seriously and got really lucky with someone like Craig Thompson.

S: Back to live shows. You use looping in songs a lot, and that's been talked about enough in other interviews. But all the instruments and the thick sound of the album. It's like a mellow Mars Volta or a Pink Floyd with more lyrics and less guitar.

B: (laughter) Oh! I like that!

S: How do replicate that style on stage? Or do you try to?

B: Yeah, we try. You should check out some YouTube clips, although the sound is pretty crappy on that. I don't know, we play what we can and we try to stay true to the song the ebst we can. But, you know, it's always a challenge to translate the song from the record to the song live. We're a very peculiar band, in that, until the record's done we don't actually play the song together. Everything is sort of done in isolation. We're not actually playing with each other at any point during the recording. And so it's kind of a strange process to finish an album and then be like, oh crap! We have to learn the songs! Then we have to rehearse them, and learn them from scratch in a way, and get used to playing them with each other. We have to make all these decision about what to play when and if we have to trim away instruments, what instruments, what parts, what layers to trim away. So yeah, it can be a challenge.

S: Do you think about playing them live when you write?

B: No. I don't. I mean, sometimes I'll daydream. Say for example "Muscle and Flo," the first song on the record. There's those guitars that go - [Brent mimics the song. Really well.] Just kind of like, chunky guitar sound that's like on your left ear. And there's another one comes in on your right. And I would daydream and be like, oh that's going ot be so fun to play. That's about as much as I ever envision playing live. But we definitely don't, that I know of, constrict ourselves to only recording what we'll be able to replicate. And usually we just try to make the recording please our sensibilities and then later clean up the mess and be like, oh crap, we have to figure out how to do this.

S: You've used a live chorus before. Any other experimental ideas up your sleeve that you'd want to talk about?

B: Oh! Up my sleeve? (laughter)

S: Yeah, you know, or a pant-leg or something.

B: Boy, yeah, we performed a CD release show in Portland and we had that 25-person choir singing with us. And that was absolutely amazing. It was just the most fun we could ever have. Unfortunately, we have neither the resources nor the adequately-sized bus to train them with us anywhere. Most of them are in really awesome Portland bands themselves, and are obviously doing their own things.

But anyways, boy, what was I saying? Yeah, anything up our sleeves. No. Let's see. We should probably start brainstorming, because that's probably something we could improve on, is the live show, in terms of - how can we make it as compelling as possible. We're doing our best, but still have a ways to go. It took us a long time to just get confident playing the songs and now that we're getting there, it's probably time to start coordinating, you know, pink leotards or something like that.

S: Perfect. So, you've got a tour coming up.

B: Yeah it's going to last slightly over a month. It's going to be a big figure-eight across the country.

S: Wow. Have you done that sort of thing before?

B: Yeah, we have. But not with so few days off. So this will be an intense experience. There are a couple drive-days, where we drive for eight or 10 hours. I don't know if that counts as a day off or not. But yeah, we're pretty much playing a show a night, for about a month. I'm really looking forward to it. We'll be playing South by Southwest [a 5-day music/art/film festival in Austin, TX] and up to Chicago and up to Toronto and Montreal and Ottowa and then down the eastern seaboard across Birmingham, Little Rock and over to Denver, so I'm really looking forward to it. Hopefully the band holds up.

S: Yeah. Serisouly. And about the label change, tell me some big decisions you guys had to make as a band. Clearly it was a good decision to go to a larger scale, right?

B: Well, I don't subscribe to the idea that bigger is always better. However, Barsuk has been a uniquely wonderful - well, I don't know about unique, because it was really good working with FILMguerrero, the small Portland label, as well. So, I guess working with Barsuk has been an entirely positive experience for us. And I think that's more due to who they are as human beings, and not as much about their distribution deal or something like that. Although that's an important component, what's made it such a wonderful experience is how wonderful they are as people and how supportive they are with what we're doing and how easily they are to collaborate with and bounce ideas off. They don't blow smoke, as far as I can tell, and I just pretty much love them all. We're really luck to have been able to connect with Barsuk, because I think they're a really special label. I get really turned off by really cliquey scenester stuff and I never get that vibe from them. Although, they do have great taste in - well, I mean, I was going to say they have great taste in music but that might sound weird. I can't say enough positive things about them, so I'll just shut up.

S: Main influences. Would you compare yourself to anyone?

B: Well, for my influences, definitely Weird Al Yankovic is the most significant influence. Growing up, I didn't have the permission or the money to buy any quantity of secular records. And since he was kind of a parody and his records weren't all about sex and drugs something like that, they're usually about food and surgery. It was OK to buy those records. And by having Weird Al Yankovic records, you get to know all the great pop songs of the previous years, re-done in his way. And so I think I probably learned more about pop music by listening to him than anybody else. I think he's great.

S: I work at a video store in town. Do you have any favorite movies?

B: Ha ha, definitely "UHF" [starring Weird Al Yankovic] Oh boy, there's so many films I like. I mean, I do have an answer for this, I'm just blanking right now. I could list about 20 movies I love, but probably one or two that I really think are really special. I mean obviously, there's Spinal Tap. That's an incredible movie. I'm a big fan of documentaries, and also so many things. Let's come back to that. (And we did…) Oh I know what one of my favorite movies is - Alien. I'm looking through my collection of movies.

S: People are always looking for some great new music or some great oldies. What are you listening to now?

B: Let's see. I like The National. I like them a lot. I was listening to their record yesterday when I went on a walk and, boy, that just put me in such a great mood. I listened to their album "Alligator." That's another group of people that are just fantastic people. We went on a short tour with them a year and a half ago, or whatever. In terms of other stuff I've been listening to, when we were making "Under and Hour," I listened to a lot to Cat Stevens. I went through a big Cat Stevens stage. I'm trying to think of what I was listening to for "Friend and Foe." I really wasn't listening to very much, if anything. Let me try to look through my music folder real quick, to give you a real answer. You know, I think the Arcade Fire record is just incredible. I think they deserve all the hype that they've gotten. I think it's been a while since a record has really captivated me. There's a little bit of Animal Collective and the New Pornographers. But yeah, I haven't really freaked out over a record in quite some time. I'm paying more attention to old stuff that's sort of in the musical canon that I should have listened to and I never did. How about you?

S: Well, I started to do the same thing with Bob Dylan.

B: Oh yeah, actually. My friend gave me some Bob Dylan about eight months ago. I never liked Bob Dylan and I started getting into that for the first time ever. What do you think of Bright Eyes?

S: I've heard a small amount of stuff, and I like it. I think he's got that singer-songwriter thing down to a real cool, weird way. Raw stuff, you know?

B: Yeah I hadn't really heard his records, and I knew nothing about him, until I saw Austin City Limits. Ad he got up there, just him and a guitar. And man, I just thought that was really brave. It's basically just what people are doing in coffee shops across the country, just their voice and a guitar and that's it. And he was up there just voice and guitar, and I thought, man, that's pretty intense. To just be up there alone, just nothing but your voice and a guitar. But yeah, it reminded me a little bit of Bob Dylan in some ways. But I only saw a couple minutes of it. I'm not an expert.

S: Well, what do you think about pop music these days?

B: Well, the stuff today that actually crosses over to wider appeal so often, you know, stuff like Nickelback and Jessica Simpson or stuff like that - I guess I have a lot of respect for the music that is true to itself and not as much respect for the music that's true to what marketing executives are trying to get it to be true to, or whatever. So, I have a real hard time with certain "pop music," but I also, in my heart, have a real soft spot for what I believe true pop music to be. And I don't see any reason why something cant be both popular and very meaningful and very fantastic and wonderful in people's lives. I guess, the recent songs that, to me, are etching that - hopefully we're headed back to a place where pop music is both things is: "Hey Ya," by Outkast, was a really great pop song. I think that "Eight Mile," by Eminem, was a really great pop song. And I think "Crazy," by Gnarles Barkley - I think that's a great pop song too. I don't know, though. I don't know where we're headed. I think everything's getting distilled and getting more homogenous with the whole conglomerate, the whole consolidation of media companies. And at the same time it's getting more disparate and it's getting more specialized with the proliferation of internet radio and blog sites, so it's a really complicated time we're living in. And to try to describe music in any sort of general term, I think you're just doomed to inadequately describing what's really going on.

S: With more distribution through Barsuk and going to a bigger scale with your influential reach, more notoriety, do you guys ever think about what that means?

B: One thing I think Menomena lacks, and Danny and Justin may kill me for saying this, and I adore their voices, there's a little bit of the record label CEO in me that recognizes that there isn't a Bono or a Sarah McLachlan or a Bonnie Raitt or a really distinctive voice, that can carry it, that can be THAT voice. And I think they have fantastic voices, but I sometimes think we will never become that popular because we don't have a great formulaic sound like that.

S: What do you think about the popularity of a band like Modest Mouse, though. The singer for that band has a very serious lisp.

B: Actually, Modest Mouse is very popular, aren't they? That's a good question. I mean actually, I really appreciate you revealing this question to me, and wondering about it so openly. Some people just shed themselves behind a smoke screen of, oh I know everything, I know all the answers, but that's a big, that's a great question you're asking. And I wonder, how would you make the distinction between an artist that is doing good work, and an artist who has lost sight of what they should be doing. Like, what is an artist to do, what is the artist's responsibility? What is an artist to do? Because on one hand, you want to give people the chance to listen to you, so that means doing interviews. That means touring, or whatever. But on the other hand, you can definitely get over-exposed. And so, how do you draw the distinction? What's the rule of thumb that you think artists should live by?

The Raconteurs: If Jack White Were in The Beatles

2007-03-01T22:55:00.000-08:00

(Published in The Mirror 10/5/06)
When God made rock n’ roll, he had an idea of how it should be performed. Well, Jack White had that same exact idea Friday night. To be in the presence of this kind of energy is strange, weird and exactly what you would expect from one of the only living rock legends today that is still crafting his best work.
The Racon- who’s? No, this was Jack’s house.
The single “Steady as She Goes” starts up with a strong bass line, and Jack White steps into the light for one of the only times all night. He’s telling everyone to clap. And for some reason, it doesn’t sound as cheesy as all the other times a singer has asked his crowd to clap. If you can imagine Snoop Dogg or Elvis asking everyone at one of their concerts to clap, you have an idea of the crowd’s response.
The Raconteurs are Jack White, Brendan Benson, Jack Lawrence and Patrick Keeler. Lawrence and Keeler are both previously of the Greenhornes and Benson is no stranger to the national stage.
White has put out a critically acclaimed album almost every year since his first album with the White Stripes, in 1999. He has become one of the most influential musicians of at least the last ten years. This kid from Detroit has been honestly representing himself through music and changing modern rock since he first picked up a guitar. He’s a Grammy-winning musician and producer and Rolling Stone named him number 17 on their “Top 100 Greatest Guitarists of All Time” list.
The accomplishments of White and the White Stripes are no doubt largely responsible for the Raconteur’s success, but they are not the only reasons. The band is technically a “supergroup” made up of independently recognized artists, but they simply consider themselves a new band of old friends.
Benson’s impressive 10-year career as a singer/songwriter has been a heavily critically acclaimed one and has drawn a tight following. His music is typically called power pop, which refers to a fast-paced British rock sound, like “My Sharona,” by the Knack or anything by the Who.
Half the band used to be the part of Greenhornes, and their first album was considered by many to be the sleeper hit of 2005. It was almost immediately after its release, in May of this year, that they released “Broken Boy Soldiers” with the Raconteurs.
Together, they’ve created music that is reminiscent of that from which rock ‘n roll was birthed, just sped up a bit with some creepy harmonies. A perfect example of this is the chorus of “Store Bought Bones,” which is based on the slower lyrical style of a barbershop quartet or 40’s folk group. A clear Beatles influence flows throughout all the songs and lyrics; maybe this is what it would have been like with Jack White as the 5th Beatle. This sometimes take a back seat to their Zeppelin roots, though, on tracks like “Level” and “Broken Boy Soldier.”
The album came across a little too rich in pop music for some people, while others complained about the length being not much more than a half hour. The album definitely left a lot to be desired, especially for those fans used to the perfectly crafted 13 and 14-song Stripes albums.
Their live show, however, could kill a guy. The passion, raw talent and pure intensity is unmatched by any rock band today. Jack White knows he’s a rock star. But somehow he still seems humble.
Every problem the “Broken Boy Soldiers” had as an album disappeared as a live show. Some songs came on too weak, but not in concert. Some songs came on too weird, but not in concert. Also, in concert, many harmonies and melodies were either switched around or completely changed, each time for the better. White said to Rolling Stone once that the songs evolve quickly on the road and that the band improvises often.
The musical professionalism on stage was instantly overwhelming. They came out in a psychedelic haze of fog and music and sang nothing for a few minutes. Then, to match their too-short album, the show was not much longer than an hour. The roaring applause at the end did not sound like disappointment, though. Clearly length doesn’t matter to the thousands and thousands of instant fans that bought all the tickets to every Raconteurs show for this, their first tour ever.
This, in combination with Jack White’s raw and unfiltered energy, created one of the most memorable concert experiences anyone could ever experience today. After seeing the Raconteurs, you’ll feel like you just saw the Who or the Rolling Stones in the 60’s, when nobody knew what was coming.

Guster Sells Out ALumni Hall at Fairfield

2007-03-01T22:50:00.000-08:00

(Published in The Mirror 11/17/05)
By Kelly Sheehan and Sean Corbett

Fairfield graduate Tara Cushman '05 came back to her alma mater last Thursday to catch what she says is "the best show you'll see at a college."

Guster is a popular east-coast band dating back to 1992, when its members went to Tufts University in Boston. Their first show was at Tufts and their first album, "Parachute," was written and recorded while attending Tufts. Over the last 13 years they have become known as an amiable group of guys with a bunch of good-natured, care-free songs.

Before the show, sitting in the back room of the band's magnificent tour bus with Adam Gardner, The Mirror discussed the band's past, present and future. It was hard not to feel like the man's old friends.

"I think we're pretty normal, approachable guys," he said.

It was even harder not to be excited for the evening's show. They have played at European music festivals, Bonnaroo and in all the big United States cities, but Gardner still said he looks forward to the small college shows.

"The great thing about playing colleges is that they're fun. Everyone's in a good mood. Everyone's ready to just enjoy the show, and there's no pressure," he said. "So my expectations are just to enjoy it, just like everybody else and hopefully everyone will be loud and raucous."

He does not remember the band's 1999 StagStock performance at Fairfield, but he agrees that they have come quite a long way since then.

Six years after their StagStock performance, the mellow Gardner stood to the right of the witty Ryan Miller on Alumni Hall's stage last week as the ridiculously enthusiastic drummer, Brian Rosenworcel, peeked over his towering bongos.

They were met by the cheers and screams of thousands of their fans.

The band opened with "Happier" off their first album, "Parachute."

With a good mix of old and new songs that were both upbeat and intimate, the band seemed to please everyone. They even gave Fairfield a taste of the new songs that will presumably make up their next album.

FUSA President Jessica DiBuono '06 said that at least 2,000 people attended the sold-out show.

"It was great to see all of us gathered together in the same place, enjoying something right here on campus," she said. "The band played great songs, interacted well with the audience and were great guys to work with."

Chris Martin '07 felt the same way. He said he could not believe how many people attended the event.

"Usually it's very hard to get people to come to university events, but I felt like people really wanted to attend this concert," he said.

DiBuono said she thought the concert was "phenomenal."

"I was happy to hear a lot of great feedback," she said.

DiBuono's claim was accurate. Students raved about the band's performance.

"Guster is my favorite band," said Ryan Tougias '06. "When I heard that they were coming to Fairfield, I stopped breathing. I almost died from happiness. My expectations were so high. And they were met. The performance was everything I hoped it would be."

Katie Quell '05, who came back to Fairfield for the event, said she has seen Guster play many times.

"But this was one of the best performances that I've seen," she said.

Some Guster fans traveled great distances to see their favorite band.

"It took me three hours to get here," said John Cifelli, a senior at Rutgers University. "But when I heard that Guster was playing at Fairfield, I had to come."

"All their non-college tour dates were sold out," he added. "I feel lucky to be here."

Guster has undoubtedly left its mark at Fairfield. The band's unique sound of the guitar-keyboard-bongo mix will be remembered.

Death Cab For Everyone: A Discussion with Bassist Nick Harmer

2007-03-01T22:43:00.000-08:00

(Published in The Mirror 10/27/05)
THE REVIEW

In a world where simple yet powerful poetic lyrics take a back seat to the musical superabundance and watered down attempts at brilliance that flood the airwaves, bands like Death Cab for Cutie serve as humble messianic figures, forcing the pop crowd to think a little.

A young man in the front row leans on the edge of the stage, smiles and shuts his eyes. The girl next to him puts her arm around him.

That's sort of what a Death Cab for Cutie concert is; a friendly arm around the shoulder. It's plenty energetic though, and they fit a surprising amount of layered sounds into their songs, which is surprising for such a humble quartet. In fact, the live versions of their songs are much more energetic than their studio album counterparts.

Taking the stage casually and confidently in Providence, RI at Lupo's Heartbreak Hotel Saturday, lead singer Ben Gibbard sauntered in the darkness toward his microphone as over a thousand fans filled the air with their praise. He gently thanked them for coming.

With a face you'd expect to see in a coffee shop, leaning over a thick philosophical novel ignoring the people around him, he smiles across the stage to guitarist, producer and friend Chris Walla. They begin with the first track off their new hit album Plans, "Marching Bands of Manhattan."

The show continued with the "The New Year" from Transatlanticism, and their new single "Soul Meets Body" and eventually into a wide but carefully chose range of new and old songs.

Watching the next song "Title and Registration," as Gibbard snaps a drum stick on two electronic drum pads to produce the song's unique beat, he strains his face and body to let out the introspective and soft high notes he's known for.

From 5 feet away was as surreal as it gets for this wide-eyed college boy who can't bring himself to take the band's new album out of his CD player and who's rented the band's documentary twice.

The show sustained a level of passion and intensity that is unparalleled by most other humble bands and rarely achieved by most over-the-top light show wielding bands. Determined to hit every note perfectly and to reproduce every song fairly and accurately, Gibbard and Walla sometimes bounced from keyboard to guitar during the course of one song, in a balancing act.

Instead of using their celebrity and money to purchase an extra band member to relieve them of these duties, they embrace the "indie" feel that this brings to the show.

Many are noticing the film companies are following the pattern of less-is-more today too, with movies like the Constant Gardner, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and Garden State. Of course, in both genres there are many underground and independent projects that use this same minimalist approach. Most with this mindset never get to see the profits that come with the success of a blockbuster or a hit album.

Death Cab for Cutie, on the other hand - they have the Spin Cover story, the MTV appearances, the Rolling Stone feature story, the OC appearances, the NPR webcast and interview and the year-long line of sold out shows across the whole world. They've been mass-produced and mass-consumed ever since their 2003 release of "Transatlanticism," but they still feel like art.

The men ended their show after only an hour and a half or so. But it was the encore that brought the already warm and affable crowd closer together in an emotional episode that few could expect.

Gibbard approached the microphone in near darkness alone with an acoustic guitar to play his song about a dying loved one, "I Will Follow You into the Dark." After a lesser-known song, "Title Track," the show ended with the slow and powerful song "Transatlanticism," and Gibbard belted out the line "I need you so much closer" in a very personal goodbye to all his new friends at Lupo's.

THE INTERVIEW

After years of touring and millions of albums sold, it is refreshing to see this popular band still playing the medium-large sized clubs when they could easily fill stadiums. It's easy to wonder if the next step will be to abandon the living room feeling of the clubs and fill the larger, less intimate venues.

In a telephone discussion about mass production and consumption in reference to his band's creative process, Death Cab bassist Nick Harmer said, "We can't play a place like Lupo's four nights in a row [to accomidate the masses], but there will be a limit to how big we go."

He expressed the band's conviction to not play in "ultradomes" but their desire to give everyone who wants to see them a chance to see them.

Death Cab's lyricist Gibbard has a unique approach to songwriting that draws comparisons between things like glove compartments, hospital waiting rooms and foggy eye-glasses and emotions like love, pain and loneliness. These unconventional associations give their music a strong and beautifully original artistic feel.

But with a thousand audience members singing every lyric, wouldn't that lessen the value of that art? Wouldn't that make it too popular to be considered significant and thought-provoking? No, Death Cab for Cutie pulls it off.

Harmer explained this by saying, "I strongly believe that how readily accessible something is does not diminish its artistic value."

Harmer majored in English and Cultural theory in college and said about the band as a whole, "we are life-long learners."

Maybe that's it; that the band is made up of a bunch of intellectuals as opposed to a bunch of rock stars. This new brand of rock star is not foreign to the public, but for some reason Death Cab makes it refreshing and exciting.

After trying to explain the mysterious reason behind the fact that all Death Cab songs have such a high quality to them, and why the band is continually successful with their quaint little tracks, Harmer laughed and offered these words of wisdom:

"Never ask a centipede how it walks, or it will trip."

The men are millionaires, and they get that money because of creative prowess. They're kind of a big deal. And still they aren't pompous asses. They know where they stand and what they stand for and it is ridiculously apparent that nothing can stand between them and what they want to do.

A perfect example of this is their new record label contract with Atlantic. Big-name record companies like Atlantic are notorious for their cramping approach to production.

Harmer said, "We have a very artist-friendly contract with Atlantic"

To put an end to an inspiring telephone interview with a member of one of the most intriguing bands of today, Harmer assured his fans, "we've always made decisions we've wanted to make...and we are not interested in betraying ourselves or betraying our fans or betraying our legacy."

Hanging By A Moment at Toad's

2007-03-01T22:35:00.000-08:00

(Published in The Mirror 5/5/05)
Jason Wade, the lead singer of Lifehouse, took his over shirt off to the sound of girls screaming from the audience, and he later wiped the sweat from his brow and threw the towel into the crowd to more screams.
Maybe the baby-faced 20-something isn't your everyday rock star, and maybe the band Lifehouse can be considered a top 40 band to a certain extent, but the unforgettable rock n' roll quality of the Toad's Place stage was perfect for the presention of their music last Tuesday.
After a year-and-a-half break from music, other band members and touring, Lifehouse recently came back together to produce and release a new self-titled CD and to go on the road for a national tour. No matter how poppy some people think Lifehouse is, any city they land in during this tour will bear witness to a powerfully impressive show.
Lead singer and guitarist Wade and drummer Rick Woolstenhulme are the only remaining members of the original band, and they have been through two bass players to get to their current one, Bryce Soderberg.
The three were joined by their touring guitarist Ben Carey for this show.
It was more than obvious that the band had rehearsed vigorously for the tour with their professionally and tightly arranged song compositions. Musicians' emotions are what makes a show most enjoyable when you're as close to them as you are in a venue like Toad's Place, and Lifehouse had energy to spare.
Woolstenhulme, adorned with a side-tipped military-type hat, beat the drums as if he was at war with them.
Wade sang as if his life depended on hitting every single note with the precision of a sniper. He would contort his face and body to expel a deep and strong voice in every single song.
It's one thing to go to a show that sounds great, but when the show looks great too, it becomes memorable.
The most impressive display of his vocal talents were displayed in what he told the audience was the first song he ever wrote, "Trying". Carey and Wade played acoustic guitar side by side for this quiet song and the simple silence of his powerful voice was almost chilling.
Carey, the only one not officially part of the band, was the most animated. The highlight of this show was during the song "The Sky is Falling" when he easily switched back and forth between playing both necks of a double-necked Gibson guitar as well as a nearby mounted acoustic.
Smiles, evil grins, head-banging and bending backwards gave Carey much of the spotlight Tuesday.
They would be smart to hold onto this performer and after the show, Wade hinted at this possibility.
"I couldn't be happier with this band," he said. "We just click."
Standing on the sidewalk outside Toad's Place beside their tour bus, Lifehouse mingled with a small group of fans, signed CDs, shirts and tickets, told stories, answered questions and posed for photos. The humble group stayed outside in the brisk air for about 35 minutes before their tour manager told them they had to get going.
Before they got back on the bus, I was able to pull Wade aside and talk to him for a couple minutes.
To help explain the show's intensity, he said they prefer the intimacy and personal feel of club shows like at Toad's Place rather than the detached feel of a stadium. He said it makes them more energetic and pumped to make the show better.
Lifehouse has been known for their first single, "Hanging by a Moment", and for a while this song exemplified the mindset and musical feel of Lifehouse. There has been a shift recently, though, with the new CDs mellower feel.
More focused on lyrical quality and relaxing songs as opposed to the harder feel of the first two CDs, Wade said this new CD really does represent the band's musical position most accurately.
He said the new songs people should focus on to get the best idea of what kind of band they are "would have to be 'Everything' from the first CD, and 'Blind' from the new one. Those are my favorites," Wade said.
Ten years ago, did Wade see himself ever having three records to his name?
"Not in a million years," he said. "Every single day we wake up blessed to have had this experience. I love every minute of it. I'm having a blast."
He said they love listening to and making music and that it has become an important part of the band members' lives.
"I think what we love about music is that it is always there and becomes a part of your past," Wade said. "It becomes difficult to think back and not relate certain experiences to various songs, and I love that we get to make some of those songs."

Tim Reynolds: Guitar Virtuosu Talks About His New Album

2007-03-01T22:21:00.000-08:00

(Published in The Mirror 5/5/05)
During a serious conversation about music and his new album, legendary guitarist Tim Reynolds heard a knock at the locked green room door and instantly yelled out in a high-pitched voice, "We're naked!"

He was humbly seated backstage on a red satin couch, handling an alien pin with blinking red eyes that he wished he had worn on stage to accompany the large blue mixing bowl he wore as a hat.

He performed for about 300 at Suffolk University's C. Walsh Theater on Thursday in Boston, MA and again the next night in Brooklyn, NY. Having the ability to attend one show as a reporter and another simply as a fan was quite a joy.

Reynolds has been playing the guitar since he was very young and has been pushing the musical envelope ever since. A majority of his songs have no lyrics, but the titles still somehow match up with the emotions evoked through the music. Few have this ability.

Reynolds has attributed his creativity and songwriting ability in past interviews to things like hallucinogenic mushrooms and marijuana, his wife, his daughter and music itself.

To further explain why he writes music, Tim Reynolds said after the Boston show, "I can't not. You know, it's a disease, it won't go away."

Reynolds played an hour and a half set in Boston of all acoustic guitar songs. Most were original compositions spanning over 20 years of songwriting. There were also two Beatles songs covered with such originality that they almost sounded like completely new songs.

"Come Together" was composed without lyrics, with the melody played in unison with the rhythm. A blind audience member would have thought a second or third guitarist has stepped on stage for that song. "All You Need is Love" was later sung with assistance from the audience.

Many present were unaware of Reynolds' unique voice and singing ability because of his history with the popular Dave Matthews Band as a backup guitarist.

"This was the first time I have ever seen Tim Reynolds outside of DMB, never mind hearing him talk or sing," said Colin Barden, a 24 year-old fan.

Reynolds has recently released a double CD that he has been recording since 1998. Reynolds and his management are all very excited about this release and describe it as the best representation of his musical tastes and abilities.

"I actually spent more time on [it] than any other CD ever," Reynolds told The Mirror in a backstage interview.

The CD featured many electric guitar tracks accompanied by drum machines, helicopter samples, distorted vocals, loud bass lines and ape screams

To explain the reasoning behind the inclusion of music that is much harder than many of his past acoustic albums, Reynolds said, "I go back way before DMB and all that, and I was much more into Rock music. That's sort of a late reference point for the public as it were. I mean, it's hard, but it's just a lot of different stuff."

In a follow-up phone interview, Reynolds explained that touring, recording and performing for him is not about the money.

"I get a certain high off that when I play solo. It's a positive experience."

The creativity that he exudes into his music is not mainstream. It can be considered an acquired taste, like a fine espresso: bitter to some, necessary to others. He wants to stay true to what he hears in his mind. This is hard for many to understand until they hear his music.

On stage he will suddenly turn on the drum machine and play the acoustic guitar over it or sing in a raspy voice about how the US government is a propaganda machine. He will walk on stage about moon boots or suddenly go off on a tangent about physics and the sixth dimension.

Despite the obvious differences from popular music, all who hear him or see him perform envy his level of creativity and his freedom and raw ability to express himself flawlessly through the guitar and the many other instruments he has perfected over the years.

Many audience members do not know how to express themselves after a Tim Reynolds concert. And that is the beauty.

Last year Tim Reynolds said after a different concert in Boston that he realized the kind of music and art that he has respect for is "the kind that you don't understand, because that's pushing forward."

"I always heard he was weird," John Ginelli, 19, said. "But I had no idea how weird until tonight. And I loved it, every second of it."

You Knew Them When: Miles Standish Monument

2007-03-01T22:19:00.000-08:00

(Published in The Mirror 4/28/05)
With all the negative press recently about Fairfield University's disturbing homogeneity, one of its bands unknowingly lends a helping hand.

Yes, it's made up of four young white kids. And it is very possible that their parents bought their instruments for them. The Miles Standish Monument brings a fresh breath of musical diversity to campus.

It is important to note that this does not mean that bands like White Noise and Johnny Proud are not musically diverse, because they are. But these are the new guys.

The Miles Standish Monument was born just a little over a month ago. Songwriters, vocalist, guitarist and pianists Bo Moore '07 and Lou Janetty '08 came together in December for Dolan Ghost and have been picking each other's brains ever since.

They joined forces with bassist Evan Barden '08 and drummer JP Francini '08. They categorize themselves Indie rock/pop.

Some stories surrounding the band members include hanging out with Aerosmith on multiple occasions, heckling from the popped collared students for their apparently threatening clothing and hair-style choices and submitting Sodexho comment cards filled out with beef stew in place of ink.

"As a band, everyone contributes something of their own to every song, so we're all happy and rocking," Moore said. "And if you catch us playing at a party, we're extra happy and rocking"

Moore is the only sophomore in this mostly-freshman band, so they'll be here for a while. "I think in two years we could easily be signed to some Indie label, maybe even sooner," said Moore. "The more we play, the better we're getting."

The band wants to play at least a couple more times before summer break, so keep checking the walls in your residence hall for their posters.

They're young fledglings and it's hard not to see their potential.

Reasons to support The Miles Standish Monument include their songs' warm simplicity, all with a sort of summery feel to them and their ease of listening.

Lyrics are clear for the most part and the songs are happy and upbeat.

There's nothing too loud, nothing too soft and no swearing.

Do you remember The Beatles? These guys actually sound like a new version of them, with a slightly more punk feel.

Moore says their other influences include Ted Leo, The Strokes and The Pixies.

Bands that would definitely not make the list of influences would be The Dave Matthews Band, Howie Day, John Mayer and Gavin DeGraw.

That's why they are refreshing.

Favorites include "Stay Quiet," with its very unique and catchy chorus composition, and "Sodapop Curtis," which requires a little audience participation.

Both can be heard on their Web site, www.purevolume.com/themilesstandishmonument

Their name may change this summer, but when they come back they plan to have a studio CD under their belt, more show experience, more songs and a larger following.

Everclear Never Left the 90s - And What's Wrong With That?

2007-03-01T22:09:00.000-08:00

(Published in The Mirror 4/21/05)
The smoke filled the stage, the floor shook, and the crowd at Toad's Place was taken back to the days of grunge-punk mid-'90s rock, courtesy of the band Everclear.

Front man, founder and only remaining original member Art Alexakis stepped out from the darkness in a black knit hat, with his tattoo-covered arms, and humbly found himself back in the spotlight.

Later, the humility would fade and he would find himself posing for my photos, stealing audience members' hats and inviting 30 or so carefully chosen young women on stage to dance with him. Unfortunately, he knows all too well that he is really who you are talking about when you say Everclear.

I went to the concert expecting it to be a teeny-bopper festival, because of the band's somewhat recent pop hits such as "Wonderful" and the cover of Van Morrisson's "Brown-Eyed Girl." I was pleasantly surprised to find a real rock show. Many of their fans were far older and more diverse than I could have imagined, and it made for a very interesting atmosphere.

The audience was composed of two clearly separated groups, though, thanks to Toad's bouncers. On one side of the barrier were the teens and preteens, who seemed to all be hopped up on ecstasy partaking in various orgy-like behaviors. The other, larger side (21-plus only) was filled with a more mature crowd of drunken soccer moms, college students and some possible heroin addicts.

Life stories like Alexakis' are reminders of those of Keith Richards and the like. But you would never guess after seeing him perform that he has done more drugs than the average rocker and you would never believe that he is 43 years old.

He started drinking and using drugs at a very early age, according to his bio on allmusic.com. Another bio says he started at age eight.

After his brother and girlfriend died from drug overdoses and after Alexakis himself survived suicide attempts and overdoses, he cleaned up and became very active in the music industry. When he formed Everclear in 1992, he had the experience in the industry to move to the mainstream quickly.

Emerging as nothing special in the shadow of bands like Nirvana, Everclear was at their hottest when they released "So Much for the Afterglow" in 1997. Based in Portland, Oregon, Everclear has experience nearly 15 years of semi-stardom.

They have been out of the spotlight for some time now, in the midst of a musical society that is not as welcoming of a 43 year-old's rock music as it is of welcoming pop sensations.

The energy that poured from Alexakis' face, his music and his voice was passionate and helped to show the crowd that he still had it. What "it" is for Everclear is hard to say. They are no Nirvana, no Black Crowes, no Greatful Dead, but they can still put on a great show. They are a California rock band whose music can make it feel like its summer and you are on the beach playing Frisbee.

As the show progressed, it was obvious that even in concert, many of their songs sounded alike, but they performed them well. I'm not sure if those two things even out or not, but I do know that I enjoyed myself.

I think most of the enjoyment came at the end of the show, when Alexakis let the women on what he called his stage. It was obvious that he was almost literally humping the American Rock n' Roll dream, but it's a unique touch. He told them they had to dance.

The show was a party and everyone became a part of the band. A woman came on stage to play guitar for one song. One man lost his hat to Alexakis. And everyone else got the chance to jump up on stage with them. "But you have to dance!" he said.

Oh yeah, and one more thing:

"Even though I enjoy you rubbing against my ass, it's hard for me to perform as an artist, so mellow out or I kick you off!" said an obviously satisfied Alexakis.

I had seen this before, in Worcester, Mass. Everclear was opening for Matchbox Twenty and invited women on stage to dance. After asking one to leave for not dancing, she gave him the finger, and he stopped the show. He would not begin again until the girl was out of the building.

Never mess with a self-proclaimed arrogant rock star.

He'll tell you in his song "Rock Star" that he wants "to make those girls on the Real World fantasize about" him. Well, he was successful in that regard.

He named all the women who were more than half his age and ferociously groping him Jenny and began playing the Tommy Tutone hit "Jenny (867-5309)" to end the evening. The lights then came on and everyone got a chance to meet the band on stage.

Advice came before the song "Buy You a New Life" from the man who has experienced first-hand everything from death to drugs to bankruptcy this year.

The bleached blonde hair, black goatee and the dark tattoos all serve as reminders of his troubled past all seemed to grow fainter and more innocent.

"Please enjoy every day of your lives," he said, "because, man, you have no idea when it'll be over."

Mr Crowe's Garden at Toad's Place

2007-03-01T22:01:00.000-08:00

(Posted 3/24/05)
In order to warm up for their seven night string of sold out shows at the Hammerstein Ballroom in New York City, The Black Crowes, hidden behind the alias of Mr. Crowe's Garden, took the stage at Toad's Place, a bar/concert venue in New Haven.

Rick Demko, the bookings coordinator at Toad's Place, explained how the venue had to remain faithful to their gag order, as defined by the band's tour manager. To paraphrase, he told me that if Toad's Place were to break the news to anyone, the band would not play a single note.

Back in 1984, when Chris and Rich Robinson formed their band, it was called Mr. Crowe's Garden, and it is common to find them warming up under this name before a large tour. I have come to find out, after talking with Rick Demko and other serious fans of various bands that warm up shows played under alias names are not rare. Bands such as Phish, Pearl Jam, The Rolling Stones and others do it regularly to keep in touch with their true fans in a much more intimate setting. So keep your eyes peeled; your favorite band could be playing at a local bar this weekend, and you wouldn't even know until afterward.

Not being an intense fan of The Black Crowes did not hinder my experience at this particular show. They are an eight-piece band, with two lead guitarists, a keyboardist, a bass guitar player, a drummer, two soulful backup singers, and of course, Chris Robinson right up front with a microphone and an occasional harmonica or tambourine.

The crowd at Toad's Place, eager to see the band take the stage, screamed, clapped, chanted and banged on the floor for nearly an hour until that last light went out, and the band followed a flashlight's beacon onto the stage from the dressing room below. They took their places and without a word broke into song. The rest of the night was filled with first class Rock n' Roll. Present-day classic rock poured seamlessly from the instruments and vocal chords of the eight rock stars, hard at work.

The sea of people at their feet begged them to stay for nearly two-and-a-half hours. They complied with great enthusiasm and played many fan favorites. Fan favorites, I came to find out, are not the same as radio hits. Songs such as "She Talks to Angels," "Hard to Handle," "Twice as Hard," and "Remedy" were not heard. One surprise was a Bob Dylan cover to kick off the encore, "It Takes A Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry," reportedly being played for the first time by the band.

Some of the unique aspects of the night included a large tour bus parked right out in front of the venue, an appearance from Chris Robinson's wife Kate Hudson on the back balcony, and a false rumor that lingered for the entire evening that Keith Richards, of Westport, would play during the encore.

Chris Robinson's unprecedented vocal performance encompasses everything that is great about music. With a wide range, a unique rasp, a toe-tapping funky quality and an overwhelming stage presence, Robinson's performance rivals that of seasoned veteran Steve Tyler of Aerosmith.

Anyone who has their hands on a Hammerstein Ballroom ticket for their appearances from the March 22 to March 30, consider yourself blessed by the gods of Rock n' Roll. These guys put on a ridiculously entertaining show, even if you don't know a single song they are playing. Tickets are still available for their April tour of the south.

If you have never heard of The Black Crowes, or if you are somewhat unfamiliar with them, their music is, without contest, worth investigating, purchasing or downloading.

There's Never Someone Cooler Than Ben Folds

2007-03-01T21:45:00.000-08:00

(Published 2/24/05)
"You're going to learn a great deal tonight," Ben Folds said with a smile last Thursday at the sold out Jorgensen Theatre at University of Connecticut in Storrs.

Behind him on stage were a bassist and drummer. Folds has not performed an entire show with a band since 1999, when his former band, Ben Folds Five, broke up.

Overnight sensation Gavin DeGraw opened the show for Folds. However, his piano skills, lyrics and overall show seemed juvenile and flaccid in comparison to what was to come.

The audience liked DeGraw, but there was an overwhelming level of respect for Ben Folds throughout his entire 2-hour show. It was as if Folds was teaching a well-disciplined class of some sort. Maybe he was.

Lesson One: How to Choose a Song to Cover.

Folds has been known to cover such piano-based classics as "Tiny Dancer" by Elton John, which is perfectly fitting. But it is always more impressive and enjoyable when an artist attempts a cross-genre cover. Ben chose a song by Dr. Dre called "Bitches Ain't Shit."

The chords that made up the song were among the most beautiful and uplifting of the whole night. Dr. Dre may indeed have something to learn from this jazzed out version of his famous vulgar ode to working girls.

As Fairfield University's Whitney Maus '08 put it, "I discovered the meaning of life somewhere between 'Bitches Ain't Shit' and 'Zak and Sara (played after the Dr. Dre song).'"

Lesson Two: How to Conduct a 2,600 Person Audience in a Four-Part Harmony.

"If a couple thousand people can't do it, how can three guys?" Folds pointed out as he began teaching the audience the four complex harmonies of "Bastard," an unreleased song off his upcoming CD. He cut the audience into four neatly defined sections. He taught each section a different part of the song. He lifted his arms into the air. The audience sang. He became the conductor of nearly 3,000 people, all eager to learn from the master.

In a slightly more famous display of his musicianship which appears on his official live CD, he later transformed the audience into a horn section for the song "Army."

"This side's saxophones, this side's trumpets," he said. The next minute, the audience was singing like the Vienna Boy's Choir.

Lesson Three: How to Nearly Murder a Piano.

For those who have ever known anyone with a piano in their house, the convention is to tune it once or twice a year. Ben Folds, though, wailed on his Steinway & Sons ebony grand piano with such passion and intensity Thursday that after only 2 hours of playing, it could no longer hold a sufficient tune.

Commenting on the encore, pianist John Cusick '07 of Wesleyan University said, "the piano was noticeably out of tune, which is next to impossible. It's the musical equivalent to a lightweight boxer taking down a guy five or six times his size, in one punch."

Lesson Four: Ironic Stage Presence.

Ben Folds arguably has one of the largest cult followings today and he seemed to handle it quite well on stage. This powerful man has an appetite for commanding melodies and brilliant rhythm that shines through his humble and slender existence.

He successfully personifies his ironic humor and anger by pounding on the black and whites while giving the audience a goofy look or two.

At one point during the concert, he told a vulgar story about Santa, stood up, ran around the stage and beat-boxed a bit, only to sit down and say, "after you build up this kind of weird vibe, the best thing to do is to go right into a slow real song."

In another possible attempt to entertain, he only brought ten t-shirts and 20 or so singles for merchants to sell at a fold-out card-table, while pop sensation Gavin DeGraw had an endless supply of merchandise set up in an elaborate display.

Folds performed songs mostly from his solo career. He did, though, perform some Ben Folds Five favorites such as, "Where's Summer B.?" "Emaline," "Army" and "Philosophy."

With constant smiles from Ben to his band mates and to the audience during and between songs, Storrs stood witness to a proud and joyful Ben Folds, despite rumors of recent dissatisfaction with performing.

Great Dane! Future Superstar's FU Performance a Hit

2007-03-01T21:31:00.000-08:00

(Published 12/2/04)
With talk of pelvis-shattering rams, the universal love of car accidents, scented markers, murderous rampaging co-workers and a conclusion of naughty sexual remarks, Dane Cook was repeatedly thanked by the thunderous screaming and applause of the standing crowd of about 2,500 on Nov. 20. He entered Alumni Hall adorned in an LA-style leather jacket, a hint of the stardom this Arlington, Mass. native has risen to over the last 14 years.

After speaking with Cook on the phone before his show, everyone can now know what drives this "hottest comic," as Rolling Stone likes to call him.

"Hard f---ing work, dude."

Of course it helps that the man has completely forgotten what it is like to be nervous or apprehensive on stage.

"I don't remember ever being nervous, just apprehensive," he said. "And now that that's gone, I am able to just have a good time."

Since the record-breaking release of his Comedy Central CD/DVD combination "Harmful if Swallowed" a year ago, Cook's fan-base has grown exponentially. He thanks his fans daily by reading every piece of mail he is sent, as well as messages left on his self-run website, AIM and his MySpace.com webpage. Embracing his popularity, he stays after every show to greet everyone, a requirement that is actually expressed in his contract. Approximately 15 minutes after the show, amongst the empty chairs and bleachers was when the man truly shined. He signed everything from a dollar bill to a shopping list to a camera. He talked to fans across the country on cell phones, blatantly ignoring his agent's disapproval. He smiled and sported his trademarked double-middle finger move in each and every picture. He calls it "su-fi" (like hi-fi); Dane-Speak for super finger.

"I was in Berkeley, Ca. last night for an audience of about 4,000," he told the small crowd. "Fairfield was more than twice as loud, so baby, you guys got twice the show!"

Cook explained his affection toward fans and even non-fans.

"I love that guy who comes up to me after a show and says, 'I'm sorry, but you suck.' It happens from time-to-time, and I learn from it," Cook said. "What I love even more is when that girl runs at me, screaming my name in the street and jumps on me, licking my face, and there's five people around us stepping back saying, 'who the f-k is this guy?' And then they find out, hear my s-t, and tell more people."

Who are his fans?

"I've always got the college kids to thank; they seem to be my greatest fans," he said.

However, after watching people enter Alumni Hall the night of the show, one couldn't help but notice the many middle-aged double dates. Bottom line: if a venue books Dane Cook, they will come.

And thanks to FUSA, they sure did come. Selling tickets for $15 to students was a real privilege. FUSA sets the student price lower than the public price and subsidizes the difference.

For this completely sold-out show, a reported $35,000 goes to Cook's agency, according to Deirdre Eller, director of new student programs. Another $10,000 or so goes into planning and setting up for the event. Most of these costs are also subsidized by the FUSA.

"Most campuses our size can't have one concert in a year, let alone two," Eller said. "Fairfield students are pretty lucky."

The sound quality, another major problem from last year's comedy performance, was also improved. Students who attended Dave Chappelle's performance last fall described his act as inaudible due to poor sound quality. However, after increasing the quality of speakers, FUSA erased this problem.

If you went, you laughed. If you didn't go, your friends will be talking about this show until they get you to see him. Some people were still disappointed that FUSA did not get a musician this time around.

"Back in the 80s FUSA got acts like The Police and U2. Why are they getting comics now?" asks Kimberly Packer, a Fairfield alumna.

With a pilot filmed for a Seinfeld-esque sitcom and with the rock and roll-esque month-long comedy tour scheduled for April that resembles a Robin Williams move, Dane Cook could quickly be heading toward becoming a household name. His CD/DVD has sold close to 200,000 copies, with the next one scheduled for release after Christmas and expected to break the records now held by Cook himself.

"After next year, he will not be priced for college shows," Eller predicted.

After the show, it was hard to find someone unimpressed by Dane Cook.

"From the moment he stepped on that stage, I knew he was something special," said Michael Paddon '07.

Michelle Holmberg '08 agreed.

"His energy was just palpable, and there were never any low points in the show," she said. "I can't imagine another comedian having been as energetic or having a better connection with the audience."

With all his recent success, Cook cannot help but love his job.

"You know what? Thank God I'm good at this, man. This is the best job in the world."