Ten Random Local Music Observations

The past several weeks, I've gone out more than I have in a long time (that's me to the right, trying to start a conga line at Tropicana last night). Back in my running-wild days, I would go out almost every night of the week. Now, with family duties and blogging duties and working duties and on and on, I try to get out at least once a week.

But I've had a lifestyle change recently (OK, I got dumped) and have been re-discovering why I need live music to feel right. I'm now averaging three nights a week out watching bands. I've discovered I really need that. I've been lost in recorded music as well, but there's nothing like "feeling" the music when you see an artist on stage. It's probably why I like especially loud live music. You can literally feel that in your gut.

As a musician, I've always had volume trouble — seems like every band I have been in has been irrationally loud, but I think that's more about needing to feel what I am playing, having it stir my insides around. And I think every musician I have ever played with has had that same need. So if you happen to see me on a stage somewhere, run out and get some earplugs (and please, please come back!). When everyone in a band needs to have their bowels rumbled when they play, it can become a bit cacophonous. But a little cacophony never hurt anyone. Well, except Pete Townshed and every other musician who has lost some hearing due to ear-bustin' volume.

I've seen a lot in the past few weeks that have made me realize that this city is in the midst of a sort of local music renaissance. The feeling I get when I go out to see a band I haven't seen before or when I get news of the latest label-signing or big tour a certain local artist has been picked to go on, is similar to the early ’90s, when The Afghan Whigs started to bring more of an outside spotlight to our fair city. The difference this time is thanks to the industry. A&R people don't seem to be looking at "city scenes" anymore as as fertile breeding grounds. Just because, say, The Heartless Bastards are from Cincinnati, it's highly unlikely that their label (or any other) will send reps to town to check out some of our scene's finest. It just doesn't work that way anymore.  When the Whigs hit, it seemed to happen every other weekend and MTV was coming to town to do a news story about "The Cincinnati Music Scene."

Considering most of the artists doing well are on indie labels, it makes sense. And I'm glad it's not happening. I would love everyone in the local music scene to get that kind of attention, but last time around, it seemed to ruin things a bit. The music being played in the early ’90s in Cincinnati started (at least in some sectors) to become more contrived; people stopped making the music that was coming from their heart (the best thing about living here as a music fan is there are a lot of bands not following trends) and started tailoring their sound to get record label attention. The problem was (and is), all of the bands getting national attention sounded pretty dissimilar (though some tried). There wasn't and still isn't a "Cincinnati sound." As the bands and performers I've seen in the past week and a half have proven, Cincinnati's musical output is too diverse for pigeonholes. And I wouldn't want it any other way.

Anyway, here is a Top 10 list of those random thoughts and observations. Keep in mind this reflects only about a week and a half of adventures in Localmusicville (I really do often venture outside of Northside). Maybe I'll make this a regular feature (minus the long-winded intro). It'll be our answer to Larry King's old USA Today column ("Zsa Zsa Gabor is more gorgeous than she was 40 years ago … I like my apple pie without ice cream, thank you very much … Richardo Montalban is the best actor to never receive an Oscar …").

10. Singer/songwriter Sharon Udoh is the best musician-slash-dancer in town. At The Seedy Seeds release party, I was in awe of Sharon’s consistent energy. Non-humans were drawn to her, too. At one point, a dog that was running around the club (I think it was the doorguy’s) spotted her twirling away and excitedly ran over, either thinking it was playtime or eager to become her dance partner. The dog circled her a few times, Sharon patted him on the head and the dog went back to sniffing the other patrons’ ankles. The hyperactive dog probably thought, “Yeah, that’s a little too much for me.” Sharon also jumped up onstage with the Seeds to provide some background vocals. I think Sharon might be the Cincinnati equivalent of Snoop Dogg: She seems to be in 52 bands, but she also does more “special guest” spots than anyone I can think of. 

9. The Sheds are Cincinnati’s answer to the Romantic period of literature — there is lightness and love of nature on a spiritual level in many of their songs. The duo (turned trio, with a new drummer in tow for their Seedy Seeds opening set) played “Reflection of the Sun” from their masterful new album, replete with the Seeds’ Mike and Margaret reprising their roles from the singalong on the album (Mike even handled Matt Shelton’s smoky-cool baritone part). It’s one of my “favorite songs in the world” right now, because I’m in desperate need of some positive light. Like the new Wilco and 500 Miles to Memphis albums, I’ve been playing this song (and the rest of the album, You've Got a Light, another optimistic notion) obsessively for the past couple of months, whenever I need a pick-me-up. “Sun” is like an updated Blake poem set to a simple Indie Folk beat, talking about the spiritual, rejuvenating power of sunlight. I got chills seeing and hearing it played live. Go here and download each and every one of their albums right now.

8. The new 500 Miles to Memphis album is unbelievably good. Great. Spectacular. The album connects the dots between the most obvious elements that Country music and Emo share (soul-bleeding, aching lyrics). The title song “Sunshine Is a Shot Glass” is the perfect, wallowing tear-in-my-beer song. The lyrics speak to my broken heart like a therapist: “I sat in the kitchen/I finished the booze/I took all the pills sitting on the shelf/I'm ready to drown/Ready to drown/Ready to drown.” Then there’s the chorus, which puts a lump in my throat every time I hear it: “I've got nothing left now/I risked out everything to spend my time with you/And now that she's leaving I am here dying/I'll be raising up a shot glass tonight.” The song could also be a love song to narcotics, but it fits my current situation like OJ’s glove. Ryan Malott is already an ace songwriter. At 24. It’s mind-boggling to think about how much better he could become. Keep an eye on him.

7. The Seedy Seeds seethe joy and exuberance, like a happy, yappy puppy dog. No one hates puppy dogs and I doubt anyone who heard them would dislike the Seedy Seeds. They’re Death Cab For Cutie with banjo, accordion, thumping Electro backing and acoustic guitar. Only better. (Scooter Dave Lewis also picked up a Timbuk 3 vibe, which isn’t totally off base either.) Their new album is fantastic — on record, you can make out the banjo and guitar a lot better than in the live setting, which is dominated by vocals and the backing tracks — but there’s something about those spot-on harmonies and the big smiles on the duo’s faces when they sing and interact with the crowd that is an indispensable part of the Seedy Seeds experience. After Mike Seedy introduced the band early in the set, he told us they were from Cincinnati, Ohio. The crowd cheered mildly when he asked, “Anyone here from Cincinnati? Do you like it?” Then he added, “I like everything except people’s hatred of downtown … and other people.”

6. Eric Diedrichs’ long-running Songwriter Night is responsible for the development and confidence-boosting of, at the very least, three or four dozen musicians in this town. The Cari Clara frontman had been hosting the night every Tuesday at Allyn’s Café for the past six years (fellow local musician Brian Lovely did it for at least four years before that). There was always this communal sense at Songwriter Night — those who never went will read that as “cliquey,” but Diedrichs wasn’t just giving slots to his buddies. He seemed to put anyone willing up on the stage to try out a couple of new songs. I attended the first night of the new Songwriter Night at The Poison Room last week and the little falloff in the “cozy” department is more than made up for by the proper PA and risen stage. The attendance would rise and fall throughout the night, as artists would do their songs and then they and their friends would split (there were a good 30 performers scheduled, so the flux was consistent and it never felt barren). But the new Poison Room locale will likely pick up even more as word spreads. The Poison Room is much more of a “listening room,” compared to Allyn’s, where it was small enough that the din of combined chit-chat would often be distracting. On the downside, no Cajun grub! But bring a bottle of Tabasco and buy a bag of chips and you’ll be all right.

5. Thy Gypsy Hut — at least the night I was there — has closed the lower entrance to the smoking patio, forcing the black-lunged masses to walk up a flight of stairs to the upper patio if they wanted to light up. I guess it’s good exercise for smokers, but I fear someone will have a heart-attack if they’re chain smoking. Not that there are steep steps or anything. It’s just the principle!

4. What the heck is “alchemize” called now? While I was at the Seedy Seeds show, I noticed posters on the wall promoting upcoming events. Each seemed to call the venue something different — alchemize, Alchemize (capitol “A”), Decibel Lounge and Cooper’s (after manager Jason Cooper’s old spot downtown, presumably). I think I’m just going to keep calling it alchemize until they take the big sign up front down. Or maybe Alchecooper’s Lounge?

3. Revisiting No. 5, what local clubs have the best outdoor smoking areas? I’m digging the ones at both the Gypsy Hut and Alchecooper’s Lounge (hey, let’s see if it sticks). Havana Martini Club — a downtown cigar bar really restricted by the smoking ban — just announced they have a new outdoor area. My very favorite though is … every club in Kentucky. ’Cause you can smoke in elementary schools in Kentucky. I would never let the smoking ban decide what music club I was going to visit (“Well, we could see TV on the Radio at Bogart’s … but let’s go see The Websters at The Waterfront so we can burn our lungs out!”), but this winter is going to be ROUGH. I think I’m going to try and come up with a new invention — the smoking glove, with cigarette holder attached!

2. People dancing at Indie/Alt Rock shows again is a pretty cool site to behold. With Electronica infiltrating the Indie world pretty hard, it was inevitable. But it’s not just the ElectroClash and NeoRave bands getting people to move. At the Seedy Seeds show, well over half the crowd was moving to the duo’s pumping beats. I’m still a standard-issue tap-your-feet, bob-your-head kind of guy, but I love seeing audiences react like that. It hasn’t been the same since Grunge. I also caught the raw, soulful Blues/Rock/Americana Indie trio The Sundresses  — who remain a phenomenal live entity — at the Gypsy Hut last weekend and they had a similar effect, as people (granted, mostly drunk people) were grooving along to bassist MacKenzie Place’s bass throb, the big consistent between the songs of the two writers, Jeremy Springer and Brad Schnittger. The performance room was empty when the ’Dresses started playing (everyone was mostly upstairs smoking), but like a Punk Rock-meets-cabaret-music version of the Pied Piper, they caused a mass evacuation of the smoking lounge when they hit their first note. The room ended up packed with enthusiastic fans, at least half of whom were dancing. Now if the band could just get that damn second album out!

1. The Read (pronounced, "The Red") are the best new band I've seen in awhile. Gang Of Four and Talking Heads Funk/Punk, mixed with agitated, political minded vocals that recall Ian MacKaye at his most urgent. Great energy, great drummer, great angles, great rhythms, great everything. Go see them (and grab a copy of their rough-around-the-edges free demo CD, Dissent Is Sexy). They play the Sonic Muse festival next weekend with Ted Leo and The Hold Steady at the Madison Theater, along with some other excellent locals (Buffalo Killers, Seedy Seeds, Angels of Meth, etc.).

— Mike Breen

Comments

[Action News]

Hey, with an outdoor smoking area, maybe Havana Martini Club can bring back their customer base ... fat, bloated, stinking CEOs in suits and their Stepford Wives.

Committing suicide slowly and in quiet desperation ... that's soooooo Cincinnati.

[Not the Mamma Cass!]

"What the heck is “alchemize” called now?"

Extract Nick Spencer from his Undisclosed Location and ask him.

[dj empirical]

i'm not sure it matters what not-alchemize is called... aren't they going away? they keep running out of beer and non-well alchohol, which is kinda what happened at cooper's right before the end.

[Matt Ayers]

Jason Cooper > Nick Spencer.

One of them doesn't blow figurative pixie dust up other's asses. Guess who?

WOAH!