A few days ago, though, I listened to Sofia Albam’s solo music, which she recorded a few months ago.  It’s more or less just her and a guitar, with a few vocal harmonies thrown in for good measure.

Albam, with banjo

I fell for Albam’s evocative, raspy-edged vocals the first time I heard them, and these solo tracks expertly showcase her style.   On MySpace, she likens her sound to “a pack of wild animals ripping your throat out, gently.”  I’m not sure if that’s exactly accurate, but her songs do have a way of sneaking up on you after a few tracks (quite possibly like a wolf silently tracking a scent, although I’ve never experienced that firsthand).  Before you know it, you’re her lost in her rhythmic finger-picking, and world-wise lyrics, all the while, wondering if she’s really only 18-years-old.

Songs like “Bury Me” delve into emotional themes with the cynicism of a weathered bluesman (or woman), and the underlying pain you might hear in a Kurt Cobain song.  During “Bury Me,” Albam sings, “There’s something wrong/I must be cursed/I try to get better/but I only get worse,” taking her vocals from a shout to a whisper with each line.  Sometimes it’s difficult to discern the lyrics, because she’s singing so loudly or quietly, but the ambiguity is appealing.  We could all use more mystery in our Wikipedia-annotated lives.

In the relationship ballad, “Why So Mean,” Albam talks about feeling love and feeling pain, but above all, wanting to feel something.

“Darling, oh darling, why so mean?

You’re the meanest man that I’ve ever seen

Kiss me or bruise me

Love me or lose me

Take me or leave me alone.”

There’s a sincerity in her songwriting that suits the austere tone of her vocals and guitar picking. With her intimate-yet-universal lyrics and musical presentation, she could be Cat Power, who also takes everyday themes of life and love, and infuses them with incorporeal questioning and suggestiveness.  Amidst all this pain and heartbreak, Albam also seems to be looking for answers.  Is there a reason for sorrow and hurt?

Her answer isn’t overt in any of the lyrics, but perhaps it’s buried in the compositions themselves.  It’s not only the music that takes us above the pain, but the moment, the tiny spaces that she’s created.  Just listen to the quiet, semi-intentional garnish on the recordings—the singer clearing her throat, or bumping the corner of her guitar against something—and you’ll realize that you’ve been invited to a special place.  There’s a beauty in her depiction of failed relationships and agony, and in that beauty, hope.

Sloan on vintage keys in her Katonah studio, January 2008 (Elizabeth Orozco)

The charm of the group was that they sounded so rough.  We first heard them play on a MySpace recording from a performance at Nyack’s Riverspace.  The quality was shoddy, but somehow it seemed to fit the style of music (I’m not taking any cheap shots by saying that, either).  They were covering songs like, “Go Down Moses,” an old African-American spiritual, popularized by Paul Robeson way back in the 1920s.  It was great hearing three teenagers belt out those lyrics, and strum their guitars like they were recklessly sawing a cord of firewood.  The crowd noise, the vocal clipping on the high end—it all seemed to fit their aesthetic.  As I reported the feature, I saw them play live (in Larson’s parents’ living room), and they still carried over some of that energy and spirit.

Albam, Sokolov, and Larson, in the aforementioned living room

Many of the covers they played for me that night, like “Jackson,” the lively number made famous by Johnny Cash and June Carter, and “Crazy,” the Patsy Cline ballad, are now out on their MySpace page, recorded cleanly (as opposed to live, at a performance space).  I have to say, though, that I was somewhat disappointed by the end product.  The problem is that I prefer the band’s sound when I hear them as a whole, through one mic, or a pair of stereo mics.  I still enjoy Albam’s throaty vocals, but when they stand out so far above the rest of the mix, her sound really loses its low-budget likability.  The same thing goes for Sokolov’s cello playing.  It’s good, but on some tracks, like “Crazy,” it seems like it was awkwardly injected into the mix.  This set of recordings just doesn’t feel organic enough.

Although I know they’re not 21 yet, I’d rather hear the band playing crumby bars with rowdy patrons and flat acoustics.  The songs they have up there are still an intriguing selection of covers—it’s hard to resisist their rendition of “Jackson,” in any incarnation—but they have me yearning for something that sounds a little less digitally true, and a little more like an old, bowed LP.

What a pleasant way to start a Monday.

Just like History of Lovers, Evans likes to take things slowly and quietly.  Although his songs are often deliberate, you don’t walk away bored—in fact, they seem to draw you in deeper (Evans unsurprisingly cites David Wilcox as an influence).  What might surprise you a bit, though, is that when Evans started making guitar recordings around the age of 15, he preferred playing rock and metal.  But sometime towards the end of college, he must have traded those distortion pedals for a pot of green tea and some aroma diffusers, sedating him a bit.  Now, the 28-year-old songwriter—who paints houses and teaches guitar for a living—composes songs that make you want to lounge and loll while listening.

Shoegazing Permitted Here

Some of his songs are bouncier, though, like the country tune, “Down East,” and the instrumental “Maple Street.”  The subtly melancholic tones never quite dissipate, but, like all the songs I heard on MySpace, they seem driven by something hopeful beyond it all.

There’s a comfort in Evans’ songwriting, and that comes out in “The Lover & the Beloved,” a song that he wrote for two friends to celebrate their wedding:

“Wrap your hearts in this coat
To weather this world, making the most
Truth will fill up your breath
And leave you with life, when all else has left.”

He’s playing a tentative gig at The ‘76 House in Tappan on December 11, and then a show at the Fellowship of Reconciliation in Nyack on December 21.  Both performances are with Aaron Rauch, and other musicians in their circle.

Now he’s hoping to open a new space in Nyack this spring, where he’ll be able to do a mix of local recording and recording for bigger, national bands.  If things go according to plans, they’ll even be an apartment at the studio, where bands can hole up while they’re recording their opus, enjoying Nyack by night (can’t wait ‘til I see Anthony Kiedis out at OD’s, or Lil Wayne at Didier Dumas).

(AP Photo/John Amis)

Anyway, the studio sounds like a great idea, and we’ll try to keep you posted.  Although Melanie and Greg are spending more time parenting than music-ing these days (they have a couple of little ones runnin’ around the homestead), they have some songs up on MySpace from a few years ago, if you’d like to take a listen.  As they write on The Space: Post-punk parents making kinder, gentler music even their kids like. The tunes are from an EP they did as The Caterpillars.

Instead, The Peak is bringing in Jukebox the Ghost (who are based in Philly at the moment) for some feel-good piano rock at Rack ‘n’ Roll Sports Bar and Billiards in Stamford.

Marah might be out of the picture, but you definitely shouldn’t be too distressed: Jukebox, a guitar-piano-drums trio, can kick it.  They construct many of their tunes with epic build-ups, where all instruments drop out, making space for a dim-the-lights re-entry into the main jam.  This is usually accomplished by a lone guitar string hammering out the melody against expectant silence, or drumming that starts at a mild din and gets progressively louder, which, if you are familiar with the studies done on Pavlov’s Groupies, you know always results in satisfactorily enthusiastic head bobbing and a sense of accomplished rocking.

They even joke around a bit in their lyrics, which I appreciate.  Overall, I found the band very enjoyable, and I imagine most other people would, too.  And unlike Marah, they haven’t sold out Philly and moved to New York…

Yet.

But much like The King’s craving for fried peanut butter and amphetamine sandwiches, real Elvis fanatics want their fix however they can find it.  For Westchester locals, that means Dean Ciallella, a Hartsdale resident who can belt out songs like “Hound Dog” and “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” with hip-thrusting bravado, but without splitting the seams of his glitzy body suit (However, Ciallella, who seems a bit paunchy, might be a latter-day incarnation of the legendary singer).

Here’s a video of Ciallella at what appears to be a campground (not exactly Vegas, but it works).  For you’re own private show check him out here or on MySpace.

But despite all these characteristics, the accordion can make some lively, even romantic, music, typically of the arm-around-your-significant-other-in-the-streets-of-Paris variety.  Just take a look at Musette Explosion, a trio featuring Will Holshouser on the squeezebox, accompanied by guitarist Matt Munisteri, and tuba player Marcus Rojas. The group plays bal-musette music, which originated back in late-1800s Paris, and was more extensively popular in France in the 1920s–1950s.

I’ve only heard two 90-second teaser clips from them, but it was a pretty nice 180 seconds, and I would have bought a song or two if they were for sale.  You can listen to those clips here, on Will Holshouser’s site, but don’t confuse Musette Explosion with Holshouser’s trio, which is decidedly less streets-of-Paris accordion music, and more psyche-ward-horror-film accordion music.

If you’d like to hear them live, stop by the Rockland Center for the Arts on at 2 p.m. on Sunday, December 7.  They ask that you RSVP ($10; 27 South Greenbush Rd.; West Nyack; 358-0877; rocklandartcenter.org).

FYI, the Rockland Center for the Arts has a fun surrealist exhibit happening, as well.

Jerry Douglas, the Grammy-winning Dobro player out of Nashville, can play country and bluegrass on the slide guitar as masterfully as anyone out there, and he isn’t relegated to a certain genre of music.  He’s performed with Ray Charles, Emmylou Harris, and Béla Fleck to name a few, and he was also one of the musicians on the endlessly popular O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack.

On Glide, his newest release, Douglas is smokin’ (where’d the Gs go?) on the Dobro, as he keeps tempo with lively guitars and banjos.  More than anything, his music has a universal appeal—it could play in Starbucks or at a family barbecue without incident.  Well, there might be some toe-tappin’ and knee-slappin’, but that never hurt anybody.

If you like the idea of some rollickin’ bluegrass, Douglas comes to The Turning Point on Thursday, November 20 for 7:30 p.m. and 9:30 p.m. shows ($50; 468 Piermont Ave.; Piermont; 845-359-1089; turningpointcafe.com).

First up is Marah on January 10.  I’ve been a fan of the old-school rockers since their Philly days (represent).  I haven’t followed them much since they moved up to Brooklyn in 2005, but hearing some of the songs off their last album, they seem to be turning out the same psychedelic, Springsteen-influenced songs.  What I like most about Marah, is that their rock and roll style can appeal to people of all different ages, across platforms.

Other shows in the NEXT concert series:

The Rosewood Thieves- Friday, February 6

Kaiser Cartel- Friday, March 6

Matt O’Ree Band- Friday, April 3

Nikki Shannon- Friday, May 1

Here’s a video from the Big Brothers and Big Sisters themselves:

I was happier, though, with Weezer’s latest effort, entitled Weezer, but known as “The Red Album.”  It’s still glossier and more digital than I’d like the band to sound (I’ll probably never kick my analog aesthetic), but there are some great songs on there, like the Queen-esque mega-song “The Greatest Man That Ever Lived (Variations on a Shaker Theme),” and “Heart Songs,” which is a clever picture-in-picture continuation of “In the Garage.”

However, there is one thing that annoys me about the album: other Weezer members, aside from lead singer Rivers Cuomo, write and sing a couple of the band’s songs.  OK.  There are plenty of bands that share out the lyric-writing duties to great effect.  I’m not going to say that the Beatles should have let John or Paul do all the singing, or that The Band, The Who, The Cars, or the Eagles should have stuck with one lyricist.  But there are certain bands that are defined by their frontman.  Zeppelin.  Jimi.  The Doors.  You grow to trust their vocal delivery, the way they tell a story in a song, the unique poetic diction (Robert Plant, singing about Lord of the Rings in “The Battle of Evermore,” and sex in every other song, comes to mind).  A lot of Weezer fans feel the same way about Rivers Cuomo.

Rivers at the 2001 MTV Music Awards

It’s Rivers who looks just like Buddy Holly, comes undone, asks his hipster crush to go to the Green Day concert.  In that vein, the songs that Rivers writes on “The Red Album” bear his imprint.  Sure, all the band members sing on “The Greatest Man That Ever Lived,” but you can still tell that it’s got the Rivers Cuomo sound: part Beach Boys, part sincere acoustic serenade, part ironic emo symphony.  But songs like “Thought I Knew,” which was written by guitarist Brian Bell and “Automatic,” penned by drummer Pat Wilson, are just terrible.  As experimental as the album might be, it retains its Weezer-ness on the songs that Rivers wrote.  But when these two tracks come up on my iPod shuffle, it feels like getting carrot sticks on Halloween.  They just don’t fit in, and honestly, the singing—done by the respective band members—is pretty lackluster.

How does this kind of thing happen?  Is it because the lead singers start to feel guilty about the other guys never getting time in the limelight?  Do the other musicians, after many years of faithful drum breaks and bass lines, start to feel unappreciated?  “Come on, man, I wrote this song for my wife, and I promised her that I’d get it on the album…”  Don’t these impostor frontmen ever feel self-conscious that they might not live up to the performance of the normal lead singer, who in many cases, is the only band member that any of the fans know or care about?  It just seems like a waste of a track. Would a great shortstop let the right fielder play his position just because he was jonesin’ for some ground balls?

A friend and I rounded up a couple of songs like this from the 90s: Pearl Jam’s “Mankind,” sung by guitarist Stone Gossard; or Guns N’ Roses; “So Fine,” with bassist Duff McKagan on lead vocals. As you might expect, both songs are pretty bad.  “So Fine” was a tribute to punk rock pioneer Johnny Thunders.  While that’s a nice sentiment, there’s no reason Axl shouldn’t have handled the vocals (he actually does appear as the track starts, only to make way for Duff’s droll delivery). “Mankind” was one of PJ’s worst songs to date at that point, and, in my mind, ranks up there with the unlistenable spoken word track “Rats.”

Maybe I’m being too harsh?  Are there other bands with a venerated lead singer that have done this successfully?  I’d like to hear any thoughts on this one way or the other-

 Fetch Lives

All the songs on the album are lighting-short, which works well, since the band treats song-writing like a structural blitzkrieg.  That doesn’t mean that all their songs are up-tempo.  Quite the opposite: They like to mix and match slow and fast songs.  The reason I say they have a blitzkrieg style is because they seem to get right down to business: They don’t dally on their way to the bridge, or the chorus, or to another bridge, or to another chorus.  You get the point.  It’s a sign of fine, deliberate song-crafting.  They don’t quite have the melodic skills of the Beach Boys, or even Ben Folds, but they’ve got the right idea.

Golub’s piano chords are the defining force behind Urban Fetch’s sound: when he’s manic and jitterbugging across the keys, the songs pop.  When he’s feeling upset over some relationship issues, the tone slips into sullen balladry.  The band’s backing vocals and tastefully distorted electric guitars add a fullness to their sound: without those elements, Urban Fetch would definitely feel too sparse, and you might get a little tired of Golub’s vocal melodies (often shouted but still intelligible) and straightforward piano arrangements.

Hand sanitizer, anyone?

The vocals are solid, but the lyricism is lacking.  Good lyrics aren’t always about telling a story—they can be evocative rather than detail-oriented—but Golub’s verses seem much too vague.  There are all of these songs about failed relationships and angst, but we’re left wanting to know more.  There’s just too much “I,” “you,” “me,” and not enough suggestive metaphors and details.  Urban Fetch’s songs don’t have to be goofy, like those of Ben Folds, but I’d like to hear some lyrics that get me thinking, and stand out from all the others.

However, there are also songs like “Track 7,” which develop more of a complete sense of identity (the track names didn’t load in my iTunes—or is that the gag of Songs with No Names?):

“Got your new car, cell phone, fax machine

doesn’t matter, though.

You got your good friends, bad friends, boyfriends

thought you were bulletproof.”

The song caught my attention from the start, mainly because it got away from the “I’m doing something,” “You’re doing something” sort of lyrical mindset.  The verses stay interesting as the song progresses:

“There was fire, danger, killing.

Watched the whole thing.  Saw it all.

I hoped that you would keep your eyes shut,

but you left them open, and you figured it out.”

Then the song makes an about-face and breaks into a bouncing, swinging interlude before transitioning back into the chorus.  Listening to the song is a good time, all in all, and it hints at the fun that the band must have playing live.  I haven’t seen them yet, but they will be at The Journal News’ Beer and Food Festival tomorrow, so you’ll have a chance then.  If you’re thinking that this is just a shameless plug for the festival, listen to the band yourself.  It’ll be a chance to join that frat/emo parade I mentioned above (unless you’re all frat/emo paraded-out), with no shortage of beers in hand.

Urban Fetch plays The Journal News Greater New York Beer and Food Festival at the Doubletree Hotel in Tarrytown.

Saturday, October 25 at 3:30 p.m.

White doods looking even whiter than normal.

(Photos courtesy of Urban Fetch)

Whatever the reason, I didn’t listen to Dylan for a while.  So when I heard The Felice Brothers for the first time earlier today, I was surprised to see how much nostalgia I felt for those Dylan days, and how excited I was to see a bunch of brothers from Palenville, at the foot of the Catskill Mountains, retreading the Americana sound with some boozy bravado and patient, grounded ballads.  By no means are these guys a Dylan cover band, but it’s hard to hear them for the first time—especially songs like “Frankie’s Gun,” a sing-a-long bar anthem—and not think of those early Dylan albums.

I’ve only heard the MySpace tracks so far, but it’s pretty hard not to like these guys, even if you get the sense that they’ve crafted their music to evoke Depression-era mountain-town crooners…but that’s what Dylan was doing, right?  (No, really, am I right about that?)  And the lyrics touch on some social issues, albeit in a grammatical construction that I’m not so sure still flourishes those few hours’ drive upstate (they do have cable TV up there, after all):

I saw a man hit my mom one time, really
I hurt him so damn bad I had to hide in Jersey
Called my mama told her
In the dresser
There’s ten or twenty dollars but there ain’t no lesser
That’s for to take my sister to the picture show

But, hey, we are talking about saloon songs here, so there is plenty a’ mention of the hard stuff, and sodden longing.  Take “Whiskey in My Whiskey,” which speaks for itself, or “Love Me Tenderly:”

A bottle of scotch
A dimesack and a diamond watch
Wouldn’t you like that
A bottle of gin (what)
A typewriter and a violin
Wouldn’t you like that

Hoping to catch up with these guys when they’re back in the area early November.  Maybe even for a session in The Listening Room at some point.  Apparently, they’re pretty big in the UK-

Details: $15; 8 p.m.; Riverspace Arts in Nyack; 119 Main St.; Nyack, NY; 845-348-1880.

Credit: Eric Sutton 

Details: $15; 8 p.m.; Riverspace Arts in Nyack; 119 Main St.; Nyack, NY; 845-348-1880.

Credit: Eric Sutton 

Credit: Ben Goldstein

(Photos courtesy of Sanchia)

TH: When did you start thinking about music as a career?  Why?

SV: When I was in middle school I used to sing with my friends at lunch because we thought we were going to become a famous singing group.  I’ve been at it since then.  At 14, I got in touch with a major label A&R who told me to send her my demo.  I didn’t even know what a demo was…so that didn’t work out.  In high school, I got involved in acting and modeling.  I knew I wanted to be a performer so I went for it.

TH: Did you find it easy to break into the business?  You mention on your MySpace page that you started off as a dancer in some rap videos.  How did you get into that?  What was it like?

SV: This industry is all about networking.  You never know who you’re going to meet.  I met one person who ended up casting me for a video, and I just kept meeting people every chance I had. The videos were great!  But there is a lot of drama that goes on with girls on set, and I am not one of those girls.  When you’re in a video, they put you in a certain place where you supposed to stay, and just go with the flow.  But you have girls attacking the camera.  Some of the girls do anything to get in front of the camera.

Plus, they think that they’re going to go home with the artist.  And everbody thinks that you’re like that too.  I’m not like that at all—it was just a job for me.  In the end, every person I have met has been a stepping stone to where I am today.  I feel that I did get lucky with my first gig [in a G. Dep video called “Special Delivery,” featuring P. Diddy], but I’ve had to work at it.

TH: Tell us about the manager that you had a few years back.  He passed away tragically?

SV: Yes, he did.  His name was Sandro Burgos.  He was a great man and he believed in me so much.  He dedicated his life to helping me succeed.  We worked really hard on my first album and we were so excited.  His murder totally took me by surprise.  I was reading the local paper and found an article that caught my attention.  There had been a homicide and the victim’s description matched Sandro’s.  I thought it was such a coincidence that I called him to make sure he was alive.  I never heard back from him.  There was an attempted robbery on his home in Plattekill, and he came home during the robbery.  I wish he was here now.  Without his influence, I would not have been able to complete Let the Beat Drop.

TH: Have you always been a fan of reggaetón?  Do you have ties to Latin America?

SV: I love reggaetón.  My family is from Puerto Rico, but my parents and I were born here.  I love my Spanish culture and hope that I represent for my Latinos in the music that I make.

TH: Who are the artists that have influenced you the most?

SV: Janet Jackson, Taylor Dayne, and Madonna.  The whole freestyle era is also a big influence for me.  I’ve always been a dancer so I listened to music that made me dance.

TH: Do you have a day job as well?  For how long do you envision yourself playing music?

SV: I did have a day job when I started this project, but realized the amount of time I needed to put into the music, so I started my own children’s birthday party business.  I also have a few other ventures, and this allows me to make my own schedule, which I love.  As long as I can keep writing, I will be singing.

TH: Actually, I didn’t even ask yet.  Do you play any instruments besides singing?

SV: I can’t play a thing.  I wish I could though.  I have a whole production team that puts the music together, but it’s all done through pre-recorded tracks.

TH: Let’s talk about lyrics.  From what I can tell, you tend to sing some songs that are autobiographical.  Is that true?  If so, which?

SV: The song “How Can This Be” means a lot to me.  I got pregnant at the age of 18, and was scared and confused, but I knew what I wanted.  Many girls don’t know what they want and allow others to influence their decisions.  This song has touched many people’s lives already.  In the song, I placed my daughter into adoption, which I think is a wonderful option.  But in my reality I kept my daughter, and she sings this song with me now.

TH: Why do you choose to sing in Spanish?  Have you ever thought about focusing on songwriting in English?

SV: My first album—the one that was never released—was all Spanish.  With this project I needed to add some Latin flavor.  It’s what makes me different from the next girl.  Sometimes when I hear a song, the words come out in Spanish and I have to go with it.

TH: You mentioned your daughter.  How old is she?  What is it like raising a child and trying to launch a music career at the same time?

SV: My daughter is eight years old and I have a two-year-old as well.  My daughter is a great help when it comes to my music.  She gives me her opinion and even helps with lyrics sometimes.  She is just like me—constantly singing and dancing.  The most difficult thing was not being around all the time, and staying away, locked in a room, when I was trying to write. But I have such a great family that they take care of my kids as much as they can.

TH: You have an upcoming appearance at Care Net Pregnancy Center in Spring Valley, where you will actually perform with your daughter.  Tell us a bit about that.  What are your motivations for performing?

SV: We will be there on October 17, and hopefully we will be able to change someone’s life.  I volunteer weekly at a crisis pregnancy center, and sometimes a song in a crisis situation can make things better.  However, it can also make things worse.  People have to make sure they are listening to the right kind of music.

(Sanchia and her daughter Drianna)

SV: I will be performing at the Sugar Loaf Fall Festival in Sugar Loaf, NY, on Saturday at 2 p.m.

TH: Thanks again, Sanchia.  Hope to hear more from you in the future.

SV: Anytime—thank you.

Details: $15; 8 p.m.; Riverspace Arts in Nyack; 119 Main St.; Nyack, NY; 845-348-1880.

Credit: Ben Goldstein

That’s how I felt when I saw “Fela!” last week at the Midtown theater 37 Arts (This is the last weekend it’s running, and it may leave town afterward, so hopefully you can still get tickets).  It’s a musical, but really rises above the cliches of the genre.  The last musical that I’d seen before that was “In the Heights,” and while I liked it, I still thought it was pretty much cut from the same sentimental mold as most other successful Broadway shows.  “Fela!” plays on emotions, but the entire production feels more like modern art.  Beyond that, it really seems to capture the spirit of its muse, the late Fela Kuti.

(Sahr Ngaujah playing Fela, courtesy of “Fela!”)

Some background on Fela, drawn from Wikipedia:

Fela was a Nigerian musician and composer, and is considered one of the godfathers of Afrobeat, a genre formed around Yoruba, jazz, Highlife, and funk influences (sounds good already, doesn’t it?).  Aside from that, he was an antigovernment activist in Nigeria, and supporter of the black power movement through both art and deed.  In Nigeria, he formed a commune called the Kalakuta Republic, and his songs often had a political bend.  The 1977 hit album “Zombie” bashed the Nigerian army for mindless obsequiousness, and drew the scorn of the government.  Later that year, government soldiers raided Fela’s compound, beating him and throwing his elderly mother—also an activist—out of a window.  She died from the injuries.

The musical is really a modernist biography, chronicling Fela’s life through song, dance, dialogue, and even video clips that play in different areas of the theater.   It’s got interactive segments, like when Ngaujah tries to get the crowd on their feet a couple of times, but generally, the show is so visually and aurally arresting that the audience seems paralyzed or transfixed.  And as great as the music is, the dancing is equally impressive.  The first act is filled with wildly orchestrated dance pieces, and the dancers are often singing and playing instruments during routines that would make most people plead for oxygen.  I don’t really know anything about dancing, but according to a modern dancer friend of mine, the production fused all different types of African dancing.  Whatever it might have been, it came across as pretty stunning.

(Courtesty of “Fela!”)

Seeing a play like “Fela!” really made me think about the way we think of civil disobedience in today’s society.  Back in the ‘60s and ‘70s, you had musicians like Fela, Marley, the Clash all singing lyrics with a revolutionary edge, not to mention writing music with an experimental, Bohemian aesthetic.  Even the Beatles, the boy-band of their era, felt the need to take an artistic and political stance.  It’s not that bands today don’t express disdain for the system, it’s that there doesn’t seem to be the same type of paradigm-breaking creative thought.  I guess it goes beyond music into society in general.  We’re more comfortable accepting mainstream philosophies than trying to challenge ourselves to understand the world in a different way.  Do we avoid revolutionary ideas and acts because we’re content?

Because we’re lazy?

Or because we’re afraid?

 (Courtesy of “Fela!”)

-the song “Zombie,” from the album of the same name

But, man, their songs have such a great, well-produced sound. Beyond the sonic quality and the first-rate mixing, I like that the band shows a lot of musical restraint in their compositions.  Like any emo band, though, they aren’t afraid to over-indulge in sob-story emotion.  This is break-up music, best for feeding (or recalling) teen heart ache.  But beyond that, the rhythms are carefully crafted, with lots of staccato breaks, and bits of silence sprinkled in to keep you paying attention (you get hooked back in after the quiet).  Winter’s Ashes was alright, if I remember correctly (I think I only heard them once), but the old band just didn’t have the polished finished product that you get from Altantic Escape.  Or the same degree of catchiness.  Did they fly out to LA for a session with Rick Rubin or something?

Lots more to come on these guys.  In the meantime, see them live- they’re playing  the Haverstraw King’s Daughters Public Library on October 3 at 6 p.m.

(Photos courtesy of Atlantic Escape via MySpace)

In some respects, I like History of Lovers even better than Blue Was a Bear.   The new project sounds a bit more stripped down, and therefore closer to the actual emotions that Blue Was a Bear is always striving for.  “Trouble,” a ballad by guitarist Aaron Rauch and vocalist Bethany Olson, was recorded in Olson’s Connecticut living room, using only Garageband and the internal mic on her laptop.  It definitely doesn’t have the quality of a professional recording—at times, you can’t really hear her singing—but it has a lot of heart. According to Rauch, he and Olson like to sit around every now and then, chat, drink some wine, and play music.  Just thinking about it relaxes me.

Rauch and Olson lounging.

At about five minutes, “Trouble” might be a little long for such a subtle, quiet song, but you won’t mind listening the whole way through, even if you know there won’t be any big musical surprises at the finish line.  There’s finger picking, and restrained vocal harmony at the refrain, not to mention the calming sound of Rauch’s fingers sliding across the fretboard.  The style is reminiscent of Iron & Wine, the whisper-inflected, one-man alt folk band.  That’s not surprising, though, as the History of Lovers band name is taken from the title of a song on Iron & Wine’s 2005 EP, In the Reins, a collaboration with the band Calexico.

“Trouble” is the kind of ballad that you might want to put on after you get home from work, and are looking to unwind.  Light a candle or two, make  a cup of tea, and just appreciate the basic components that make up your life: a comfortable couch, the cool fall air, your loved ones in the other room, the sleeping plants in the window, a TV that’s not turned on.  After the song is finished, you might just want to let the silence ring out for a while, and savor the mood.

No offense to Gran Combo, who’ve been at it for four and half decades and counting, and have been playing “Brujería” since around the time Bruja was born.  But she really brings a lot of attitude to the song, not to mention some hard-edge sensuality-

(La Bruja in El Barrio, courtesy of La Bruja)

Anyhow, his gig at Riverspace should be satisfying for all you fans of the Fab Four, err, Five.  If you buy premium tix ($100), you can attend a pre-concert buffet with Pete and his band at Reality Bites Café, and oogle over footage and images from Best’s own Beatles archive. (Did he have Beatles posters hanging in his bedroom like the rest of us?  Did he buy two copies of Sgt. Pepper?...or was he with the crowds that were burning Beatles’ albums?)  As of today at 11:30 a.m., tickets were still available. Details from Riverspace are below:

MUSIC
PETE BEST IN CONCERT
with special opener
Joey Molland of BADFINGER
Sat., Sept. 13, 8PM

Join Pete Best, original drummer for The Beatles, and his band as they kick off their U.S. tour for the much-anticipated new release, Haymans Green.

Round out the experience at a pre-show event featuring original footage and images from Pete Best’s archives, followed by a four-star buffet with Pete and the band at Reality Bites Café. Reserve early, very limited seating.

Download Flyers: Color, B&W (.pdf)

Tickets: $50/$25/$100 premium seating w/pre-show event and dinner
Box Office Phone: 845-348-1880
Or visit our website at www.riverspace.org

Mailing Address
Riverspace Arts in Nyack
119 Main Street
Nyack, New York 10960

(Photo courtesy of AC)

TH: Thanks for making time to talk to The Listening Room, AC.

AC: My pleasure. Thanks for having me!

TH: Tell us a bit about your background. How old were you when you first realized that you wanted to be in boy band?

AC: Haha- well I knew I wanted to be a singer since I was little. I had a really high voice when I was younger so the songs I would sing for people in those days were more soprano type power ballads like Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You,” Mariah Carey’s “Hero,” and, of course, “My Heart Will Go On.” Once my voice changed I started to head toward the field of songs from different pop groups of the time and realized there wasn’t anything these guys can do that I can’t! I figured starting a group would be a great way to break into the industry at my age.

TH: Once you came to the realization, was it like, “Mom, can you buy me this hair gel?”

AC: Actually I had been a big fan of hair gel long before I decided to start a group. The thing that did change though was the strength of the hold. Over the years I’ve gone from gel to glue and everything in between.

TH: But sersly, did you need to take singing/dancing lessons?  If so/not, was it difficult to learn to do these things?  They really are integral to boy-banding.

AC: Very integral. It’s always best to try and make the most of your talent by working at it. I did take voice lessons when I was young. When my voice changed though, I kind of gave it up for a while but I still sang in school all the time and in my personal life. I was in all kinds of choirs and groups through the years and every one of them contributed to strengthening my voice. I did what I could on my own to work at making it stronger and controlling it better as well.

As for dancing, that has really just come pretty natural for me. I remember dancing at my sister’s Sweet Sixteen when I was eight years old and keeping up with professional MTV dancers. Seeing the video years later is funny, but it surprised me how comfortable I was doing that at such a young age. I always tried to emulate moves I’d see on TV from all the great artists of the time. I would study them, remember the eight counts and then do it over and over. That’s how I started learning choreography. I guess you can say I made my own lessons.

TH: Do you play an instrument?  Do you play on songs?

AC: I wouldn’t consider myself a pro by any means in either, but I do play piano and guitar. I always used to try to play songs by ear, but once I took theory, ear training, and sight singing in college, I learned to build chords around melodies pretty well. I still have a lot of learning to do, but I love making music anyway I can.

TH: What artist influenced you the most?

AC: That’s always a hard question to answer. I have had so many influences it’s impossible to pinpoint just one. Richard Marx has always been a big influence, Stevie Wonder, Brian McKnight...My dad has been a big fan of doo wop for the longest time and I would listen to all the groups when I was younger and sing along to the timeless tunes. You can’t beat that era of music. These days I think Justin Timberlake is an influence and inspiration for all male solo artists. The man can do no wrong and you can’t help but appreciate that kind of talent.

TH: Do you perform live now?  Alone?  Or with a band/dancers?

AC: Up until recently I was performing with my college a cappella group The Earth Tones. There’s not a group in the country that has more fun on stage than they do. Upon leaving school, though, I signed a contract with an amazing up-and-coming indie label as a solo artist. So far I’ve just been working hard in the studio preparing songs for my debut album, so I haven’t done any performances yet. But stay tuned.

TH: Boy bands have a mostly female audience, often teens.  Are there certain things you need to do in your music to appeal to them?  I guess you really have to stay current on what’s “cool.”

AC: I’ve always just tried to be myself. I wrote songs about love because there’s nothing in this world that feels better. I wrote songs about parties because hanging out with your friends takes away the stresses of the world. I think most artists try to write about how they feel at the time and that’s what I try to get across. I want the listeners to feel me in my music and in the tone of my voice. If that comes off as “cool” then that’s great. And, of course, the ladies deserve all the attention they get.

TH: If you were a New Kid on the Block, who would you be?  Are NKOTB the founding fathers of boy bands?

AC: I think I’d be Jordan. I felt like I could relate to the kid. We have about the same same range, I think. I wouldn’t consider them the founding fathers of boy bands. Every generation has had their slew of boy bands. Think back to the Jackson Five, and The Temptations. Just two examples of groups prior to New Kids who incorporated harmonies and choreographed dance moves.

TH: That’s true.  I wasn’t really thinking beyond “Hangin’ Tough.”  Regarding your songs, the collaboration with Breed on “The Next Girl” really works well, in the vein of JT and TI.  How did you and Breed get connected?  Are you a big rap fan?

AC: Thanks a lot, I appreciate that. Breed is crazy talented. In a world of emcees who have no heart, Breed makes up for all of them. I hooked up with Breed through my manager at the time. He got me together with the producer who created the ridiculous beats on the tracks you’ve heard on my MySpace, Facebook, Clear Channel sites, or anywhere else you’ve heard them. Anyway, Breed is his brother and had been in the game for years. When we were doing the track we thought a rapper would fit so I was introduced to Breed and the verses he wrote for it were fire so it was a no-brainer. Look out for Breed this year, he’s gonna be big things. As for rap in general I have always been a huge fan of the genre but I feel as late it has fallen off. You can’t deny the ability of a great emcee.

(Photo courtesy of Breed via MySpace)

TH: Are you in college/working? What do you study/do?  Does your music life ever cross over into your professional life?

AC: I was a music major in college and when I’m not in the studio I’m working at a music store. Haha- as you can see, no matter what, music is involved in all things I do. I would not have it any other way.

TH: What’s the Scarsdale boy band scene like?  Are there competitors out there in Scarsdale/Westchester?  Do you work together or is there animosity on the scene, like one group is more Backstreet, other ‘N Sync?

AC: The exact opposite, my friend. At least when I was in the scene. I only knew one person in my area who could sing. I had to recruit from other towns. I’m not sure how it is now, but hopefully there are more guys these days doing their thing.

TH: We’ve got to ask this for all of our love-struck fans out there.  Justin Timberlake is often see cavorting around the pages of US Weekly with Hollywood starlets.  Do you have a beau on your arm?  If so, who?

AC: I prefer to leave this question open for discussion. It’s always best to leave ‘em guessing. Sorry ladies.

TH: Thanks, AC.  Let us know when your new tracks are dropping, and if we can see you live-

AC: Anytime man. I’m in the process of recording now. I should have some sneak peaks of new tracks available soon, and once the album is finished I will be doing some live shows. Stay tuned cause this is gonna be an exciting year!

(Photo courtesy of Sanchia via MySpace)

According to the MySpace bio, in the early part of the decade she was featured in a couple of rap videos (including one by P. Diddy), and then met a manager who recorded some tracks with her, with the goal of hopping onto the Daddy Yankee reggaetón wave.   Tragically, her manager was murdered around the time the album was completed, and she feels like it never got proper promotion.  Now her new album, “Let the Beat Drop,” is cut, and ready to go.

(Courtesy of Sanchia via MySpace)

After listening to a couple tracks that are up on MySpace (I’m still waiting to get a copy of the album), it seems that her new album has a clubbier sound than what she’d done in the past, and a clubbier sound than most other reggaetón songs.  The beats are less mechanical than other reggaetón jams, but still have the signature rhythm.  Although she typically sings in Spanish, she has one Spanglish tune up on the site. “So What” features a sample from the 80s hit “Mickey” (is it the mouse who is “so fine?”) or something that sounds darn close.  The sample is refreshing in a genre that sometimes sticks to safe, basic beats.

Of the older tracks, I liked “Vamos pal mambo” the most, mainly because it featured a rapper named Bimbo, which added a bit of vocal variety.  The slower songs I found a bit bland, but they show promise—which seems will be fulfilled by this release.  Look forward to hearing it in full.

Hear’s a behind-the-scenes video of the photo shoot for Sanchia’s album art:

Photoshoot

Justin Veatch, a 17-year-old Yorktown songwriter was found dead in his bedroom early yesterday morning according to The Journal News.  The article, by TJN’s Brian J. Howard, featured comments from Justin’s father, Jeffrey Veatch:

Marina Veatch, Justin’s mom, found him in bed at 6:20 a.m. yesterday.  There’s no cause of death as of yet, but Justin’s father admitted that drugs were a possibility—his son had been in rehab for a month last summer, and had been through drug counseling, he said.

Judging by the finely crafted songs on Justin’s MySpace page, he definitely had a talent for songwriting.  According to TJN, he often recorded songs playing all the instruments himself.  He played guitar, piano, and keyboards, and was thinking of studying music at the University of Vermont or the Berklee College of Music in Boston.

The songs on his MySpace page are from his band, The Ivoryton Piano Factory.  I’m not sure whether he played all the instruments here or had other musicians on the tracks (some songs use a real drum kit and bass, so I assume those weren’t solo).  There are only three songs up on the page at the moment:

“Can’t Afford the Color,” is a somber-sweet piano ballad where he sings about someone looking at a black and white photo with his parents, reminiscing about the love and happiness in their eyes, “even while [they] wait in line for soup.”  Like all of these songs, it reminds me of a more melancholy Ben Folds with none of the goofiness, and lots of subtle songwriting heart.  Maybe closer to Ben Gibbard of Death Cab for Cutie.

“ESRT Page 14” a patient song that is even more Gibbard-esque, with it’s echoey and layered vocals, and its driving, orchestral feel (though there’s only guitar, piano, and drums).  “Broken Angel” definitely seems like solo work, by the tin of the drum machine.  It’s got more pep than the others, but still plenty of underlying sadness.

All this talk of melancholy and sadness doesn’t mean these songs are depressing, but it kind of comes across that way considering the terrible circumstances.  Justin had a real aptitude for songwriting.  Regardless of the cause of death, it’s such a shame to see something like this happen.

(All photos from Justin’s MySpace page)

(Photo courtesy of Outsly via MySpace)

What I’m trying to say with all these weird similes is that death metal is a great way to help prepare for another work week.  In keeping with the cereal-burning, pyro theme, we’re profiling the Yonkers-based metal band Immolation.  If you’re not up on the metal scene, these guys can growl lyrics, pound the drums, and toss their hair with the best of them.  They’ve been around since the 80s, but are still grinding out songs and performing both nationally and internationally.  During the 2007 “Skinless” tour, they played in NYC at B.B. King’s.

According to guitarist Bob Vigna, the band’s lyrics largely deal with religion, and how religion is responsible for most of humanity’s problems. “Mainly we write about the state of the world today, and how religion has been the key cause of most of it in one way or another,” Vigna says.  “These days we look more at the extreme side of it, and really are referring to all religion in general, as well as the way we are as a people in general.”  Judging by the lyrics to “Passion Kill,” they seem to carry a message of social justice.  Sleeveless social justice, but social justice nonetheless.  An excerpt:

Tyrannical rule in the name of god
Thirsty for territory and thirsty for blood
Creating the myth while creating the mayhem
As the world endures another era in suffering.

In “World Agony,” the band even addresses environmental issues:

Cursing ourselves, causing our death
Abusing the earth, it’s coming apart
Can we undo, what we have done
Before we undo, what we become.

What makes me think they’re the real deal?  They’ve been written up by anus.com (Not what you think—it’s the American Nihilist Underground Society), and visited Germany a half-dozen times during their latest European tour in’07—both what seem to me like metal benchmarks.  As for their confidence in their own abilities, Immolation’s MySpace page says it all:

“Originally called Rigor Mortis, the band was unexpectedly born amidst the relatively peaceful environs of Yonkers, New York. Little did the city know a small, but mighty group of restless teens would emerge from its epicenter to help create the most brutal sound the world would ever hear.”

Enjoy your Cheerios.

(Photos courtesy of Immolation)

Well, looks like the musicians’ get-together that Piermont native Britney Boras was planning has fallen through for the moment.  According to her, the owner of Cachaca was being unprofessional, moving the dates/times around on them.  They’re presently looking for a new spot to sing and songwrite.  Maybe they need to channel Dylan’s ghost (I know, I know, he’s still alive, but he must have left some spiritual resonance in the Village) to lead them to a sufficiently inspirational jam space.  I’m thinking Starbucks.

I’m not heading anywhere for the weekend, though, so I needed this blog entry to be a bit of a pick-me-up, a rally cry for all those others out there who are still en-cubed at this hour (and then there’s Friday.  Let’s not go there yet).

So I started hunting for some reggae.  What I found was Red Sky Morning, a pop punk, Sublime-ish band with a drum- and power-chord-driven sound.  Says on MySpace that they’ve got a connection to Westchester.  Not sure what that connection is as of yet.

The song I really liked was “Nature of the Beast.”  It’s a ballad along the lines of a Bradley Nowell tune.  It profiles a couple of hard-luck characters.  “Johnny,” turns to subway stick-ups as a result of his drug-addicted dad.  Next character, Anita, becomes a prostitute to drum up much-needed cash.  She feels like she’s left with two options: “the bottle or the knife.”

The song’s not really not as much of a downer as the lyrics might imply, and there’s even a great little keyboard riff after the chorus that could be in a light-hearted reggae groove.  And what’s it matter if the lyrics are a downer, anyway?  Even one else is sitting on the beach somewhere, listening to the sound of the surf.  We just have the hum of fluorscent lights.

It’s the nature of the beast…

Even if you don’t follow salsa music, you’ve probably heard of Lavoe.  Marc Anthony played him in El Cantante, a bio pic that came out last year (J-Lo co-starred as Puchi, Lavoe’s wife).  I thought the movie was pretty bad, but the music was still great.   Of the many talented salsa vocalists of his era, Lavoe had to be the biggest crowd-pleaser, despite spending much of his life addled by drug addiction.  It wasn’t uncommon for him to miss a performance or show up late because he was zonked out on heroin.

Anyhow, before I go off on a (longer) tangent, we’ll get back to Pulpo.  Lavoe brought him on board to play piano in 1975, shortly after Lavoe had split from band leader and trumpet player Willie Colón, and embarked on a solo career.  (Colón is a politician now, working as a cultural liaison in the Bloomberg administration.  He also has some sort of business office in New Rochelle, apparently, but I don’t know much about that).

Pulpo spent the next 16 years with Lavoe, both of them dealing with drug issues, but still producing albums and playing New York, Puerto Rico, and South America.  Pulpo’s been off the hard stuff for a decade, though, and these days wakes up early in the morning (I’m talking 3 a.m.) to work on his music and hang with his dog.  His current band, Ensalada de Pulpo (Octopus Salad) has featured some pretty prominent salsa musicians, like bass player Rubén Rodriguez, Jr. and timbale player Nicky Marrero.  If you’re interested in hearing some of his older work, I recommend the Lavoe stuff.  There’s some of it on Pulpo’s MySpace if you want a sample.  What I’ve heard of the piano player’s solo efforts, like “Hot Bread,” from the eponomous album, are more Latin jazz than salsa.  But still groovy.

No word about upcoming concerts, but hopefully something soon-

(Photos courtesy of Gilberto Colón, Jr.)

TH: Tell us a bit about yourself.  Are you a lifelong Putnam guy?

DP: I was born in Bronxville Hospital and lived in Westchester until I was 20. Then I moved to Putnam (Brewster) and have been happy here for a while…It’s my kinda town! I moved around for a while but came back to Brewster to make it my home.

TH: What do you like/not like about the music scene here?

DP: There is really no place to play original rock music anymore… and not too many people come out to support it unless you play cover songs. Which is OK, but it is much more satisfying to play my own music. We play a few select cover songs in our original set just ‘cause we love those songs, but we play them our way so they sound closer to originals than covers.

TH: Do you have a family?  A significant other?

DP: Mom and Dad and three siblings.  No family of my own yet, but I do have a girlfriend of 10 years.

TH: You’re obviously a huge Van Halen fan. What was your first rock album?

DP: I was brought up on all kinds of rock…my parents loved rock music and played it in the house all the time. My first rock memory was listening to Pink Floyd and Led Zeppelin, but that soon blossomed into Van Halen and Sabbath. I like lots of rock from the late-60s through now, but Zeppelin and Van Halen hold a big place in my musical heart.

(Zep guitarist and rumored deity Jimmy Page, rocking the Olympics with British pop star Leona Lewis—AP Photo)

TH: Who inspired you to play guitar?  Was it by VH?

DP: No actually… it was Jefferson Starship, and the first guitar solo I learned was the solo from “Jane.” [Off 1979’s Freedom at Point Zero]  That song still rocks.

TH: Who inspired you to play guitar?

DP: Soon after “Jane,” I discovered Van Halen, and my guitar player life changed forever. The sound of his guitar was like nothing else I had ever heard and I knew what my destiny was, right then and there. I think the first time I heard “Eruption” my hair grew about eight inches, and all I wanted to do was play guitar for the girls and party!

TH: Who else influenced you?

DP: Actually, lots of guitar players influenced me, including Randy Rhoads, George Lynch, Steve Vai, Michael Schenker, Jimmy Page and Jimi Hendrix.

TH: How old were you when you mastered “tapping,” a la Eddie Van Halen?

DP: I somehow got it right away.  I was lucky to be able to do the basics quickly, but I practiced  a lot to try and master different techniques and alternate patterns. Randy Rhoads was a master at that.

TH: Do you ever write quiet, sensitive songs?  Acoustic songs?

DP: Yes. I have a stable of acoustic songs and ballads that I sometimes put on my albums, but I prefer the rock!

TH: How do people respond to them?

DP: People love them when I play them and I have been thinking about doing an acoustic set for a while… maybe some local restaurants or something.

TH: What’s the most memorable concert that you’ve been to?

DP: I saw Bon Jovi on New Year’s Eve in their hometown of NJ, and it was a party! Non-stop, and man did they rock!!!  David Bowie was my first stadium concert and it was awesome…something i will never forget.

TH: Who’s your favorite band of the 70s? 80s? 90s?

DP: It would be Van Halen for sure. But a close second would be Led Zeppelin.

TH: Is your song “1984” autobiographical?  Any connection to the Orwell novel of the same name?  If you had to choose between the book and the VH album, which would you choose?

DP: Oh, definitely an ode to VH.  The book was cool, but living the rock life in the 80s was way better!

TH: Do you ever feel like you want to leave the past decades behind, and embrace
the rock music of today?

DP: I feel that I am doing that right now. Even with my music having the flavor of past decades I feel as though it has a new sound that is current-yet-familiar to the listener. My albums reflect all of my influences from all my favorite bands, but I always look to the future of rock.

David Powers photos courtesy of David Powers, via MySpace

Got an email from Rockland Magazine cover girl (May 2008 issue, “Rockland Idols”) and Piermont native Britney Boras on Friday.  As the article mentions, she’s a Jazz Studies major down at NYU (her late-father used to chair the department), who performs around the city and up here as well.  Looks like she’s starting a singer-songwriter meetup of sorts in the West Village. The group will be getting together at Cachaca, which is at 35 W 8th St. near Washington Sqaure Park. It’s starting Sept. 6 and will be Saturday afternoons from 3—6 p.m.

The get-together is open to the public, but it’s not an open mic thing, so you’ll need to contact her about booking via MySpace.   You don’t have to be a musician, necessarily (if you want to play that would help, though).  Just someone who’d like to hear some music, and get invovled in the creative process.  It’s kind of a non-competitive, “right on, man” sort of thing.  I like the sound of it.

That’s the motto on David Powers’ MySpace page, and he definitely honors it.  With music that “takes cues from popular FM Rock out of the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s,” the Brewster native combines pop melodies with monster guitar rock, the way Van Halen and Bon Jovi did (and still do).  Lest you be confused about his influences, he even has a tribute song to VH entitled “1984” about a 30- to 40-something reminiscing about a killer night out when he was 17, inebriated, and hanging with a hot chick. Ah, the universal themes of whistful balladry!

Despite guitar effects that could potentially turn simple riffs into carpet bombing assaults, Powers keeps it poppy. The solos seem to hang in the air infinitely, like a Michael Jordan slam dunk from the foul line (which actually happened only a few years later in ‘88).  The MySpace pic of Powers tilting his ax towards the heavens in “Guitar Hero” fashion makes me want to see these guys live—they’re playing with Blue Oyster Cult at the Taste of Danbury on September 6 at 6 p.m.  More from Powers next week-

“19-84…19-84…back in the day that is no more…19-84”

Newer Van-Halenite Sammy Hagar at his Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction in March 2007. (AP Photo)

David Powers photo courtesy of David Powers

According to his MySpace page, looks like it’s no accident that A.C. sounds like a grown-up ‘N Syncker—his bio says he’s been in three boy bands already, and judging by the aviator shades and the unbuttoned Oxford, he’s learned a thing or two from his life spent on the Backstreet.  We’ll need to get some video clips of his dance moves before printing posters, though.  And no sign of a Jessica Biel-type on his arm, for those who might be hoping to perform a wardrobe malfunction with him after hearing those high notes.

Trying to get a hold of A.C.  More as it comes in-

(Justin Timberlake: AP Photo)

One of those musicians was Rick Dobbelaer, who was once the guitar player for a 90s jam band called Last Tribe. They were sort of like Rusted Root or Dave Matthews without all the different instruments. This YouTube clip of Last Tribe covering the Smiths’ tune “Cemetry Gates” at the Wetlands gives you a taste of their sound and style (shirtless frontman, with a earth-child leather necklace- love the 90s).

Last Tribe is now defunct, but Rick is still around, even through some struggles. In 2003, he was dying from a heart condition without much hope for survival. He wrote up a bunch of songs about mortality, and even put together an album with a pretty morbid picture of him and his daughter walking through a cemetery.

He got a heart transplant from a 15-year-old girl, though, and now he’s back to making music (if mostly for his own enjoyment). In the summer, Rick runs a landscaping business around Rockland, and then records like a madman through the winter. He does it all out of his basement, and he’s turned his garage into rough sound booth, with some oil cans and tools scattered around.

His solo music (here on MySpace) sounds like the Nada Surf stuff from the last few years. Glossy pop-rock, mixing straight-forward hooks with occasionally dissonant sounds. On the production side, it’s not exactly Radiohead, but judging by the tracks that Rick played for me when I visited last winter, he isn’t afraid to experiment with weird digital sounds. He doesn’t typically play gigs anymore (which was part of the reason we didn’t include him in the May feature), but he’s always messing around with some kind of song. If you’re a 90s rock aficionado, check out “Accounting” or “It Kills Me” on MySpace. Both feel pretty post-grunge.