John
Kameel Farah
The Craig Dunsmuir Guitarkestra
Bush League
Fucked Up
Blackeyes
Golden Famile
Fembots
The Lolo Project
DJs
JOHN
KAMEEL FARAH
WAVELENGTH 157
Sunday April 6, 11pm
Purveyors of: A big question mark for a long time
http://webhome.idirect.com/~ffarah/
Usually seen on stage at more meditative environments like The Music
Gallery and The Ambient Ping, local composer/improviser/electronic tinkerer
John Kameel Farah makes his debut for the rowdies at Wavelength April
6.
When I last saw you play (almost five years ago, now that I think about
it, back when Ronda Rindone put on her Improvisor’s Series at the
Idler Pub), your stage set-up simply consisted of, if memory serves,
just a synthesizer and your charts. Judging from an archive CD-R of your
Music Gallery performance from this past fall, though, it sounds as though
you’re now trying your hand at incorporating beats, samples and
processing into your work. How does this accompaniment affect your live
performances — is it used to make the pieces more MIDI-ish programmatic
and rein in your playing by giving you cues and signposts, or do you
take a more active, in-the-moment role in the process in terms of triggering
things on-the-fly and multitask-flitting from laptop to keyboard?
Basically I use both of those approaches. Back then I was just making
tracks on my old, huge, cranky Umax. It wasn’t something I could
lug out to a live show, so I just played straight piano/synth/keyboard.
Getting a Powerbook basically allowed me to start working on bringing
the producer and the pianist together. I usually manipulate as I play,
but the degree that I fudge with the sequence depends on a lot of things,
not the least of which how close I think I am to maxing out the computer!
I can map it out in huge sections and will often go back and forth between
completely minimalistic and ambient, to drum’n’bass beats,
trying to displace the beat as much as I can while still remaining on
top of the time. Sometimes I’ll route several outputs and take
turns mucking with tracks while playing the piano; recently I tried filtering
the piano live as well. It can a be a lot to handle, basically playing
two instruments at the same time, but I enjoy that stress — usually.
Of course, the more you do in the computer, the more you dance around
the dreaded system crash. If I really get into something and want to
just focus on improvising, I have to give up any simultaneous electronic
fiddling and just zone out on what ever pattern I’ve hit upon;
then you have to give up a hand if you want to tweak the texture from
there. I pre-program some of these things, but the more you can handle
live, the better and the more the whole thing breathes, the more it can
stretch and bend in front of you. The idea is not for me to be playing
keyboard all the time, though. I sort of bounce from being extremely
busy at the keyboard to just leaving space and meditating on three notes
and their placement in the groove — actually I prefer that, just
pick the most messed-up notes, depending on the context.
Another more specific tension in your playing is that between your many
melodic sensibilities, the three most striking being the scales and phrasing
of Arabic music, the quiet-but-violent dynamics and freeze-frame chord
choices of Morton Feldman, and (admittedly, the only influence I could
pick out back when I first saw you) the abstract baroque flourishes of
the likes of Arnold Schoenberg or Cecil Taylor. Do you find that further
schizophrenicizing your works through playful digital sabotage paradoxically
helps cohere all these disparate voices? Is this conscious (dis)integration
something that you’ve fought for for a while in terms of attempting
to arrive at your own compositional style?
It’s been a huge question mark for a long time: what the hell do
I do with all these disparate styles that I’m immersing myself
in? For a while I was trying to have seperate lives, one as the “modern” classical
pianist, one as the experimental improvisor, one as the jazz player,
another as the composer, and also the producer making sort of techno
collages on my computer. I loved all of them, but it was so stressful
and cumbersome. I still keep these elements separate, depending on the
occasion, but right now I am very excited that I’ve found a way
to let all these multiple personalities have their chance to speak in
a live performance, and for me it’s been exhilirating. Once, listening
to Messiaen’s Illuminations of the Beyond, I heard a huge, sustained
orchestral chord, sort of shimmering on the harmonics of D, and then
sampled it, and meditated on the harmony on the piano in a live performance
after complete and utter chaos. If I were ever to spin records, I would
prefer to layer a Boulez piano sonata and have its crystalline tones
sparkle over a thick bed of anything from Gwar to an Arabic classical
ensemble. A beat will hold almost any different elements together simply
by being present, but I try to bring the percussion to the level of sophistication
of whatever’s going on. But also the harmony holds it together,
too, as I’m always going to improvise around the harmonic implications
of the sample or sequence, whether it’s tonal or atonal. To sample
Feldman (for example) and superimpose it over elaborate, hard but complex
breaks, improvising alongside basically as if with a jazz rhythm section,
perhaps tonally, or perhaps atonally, satisfying the composer, the pianist/keyboardist
and improviser in me all at once, makes me feel that I’ve created
something my own, very personal. Yeah, it ties it all together for me
in an essential way.
Finally, as obvious as the question may be, it had to be asked: what
was it like working with Terry Riley? Was it part of some sort of fellowship
or scholarship, or something more informal? Like you, he seems to deliberately
blur the edges of the improvising/composing distinction, one informed
in his case, I guess, by being inspired by such open-ended song forms
as Indian ragas to emphasize the process behind the creation of his pieces.
Did working with him, then, entail a more holistic approach to teaching
than learning from a more tradition-ensconsed Western composer?
It was a great experience for me in many aspects. It gave me my first
and so far only truly positive experience learning composition with a
teacher. I had met him at one of his performances in New York at The
Knitting Factory, and a few years later I went out to stay with some
friends in San Francisco, then rented a car, took a tent and drove out
to the Sierra Nevada mountains, and set up camp about a kilometre from
his house, and had lessons with him every day. No scholarships, it was
my own project, and it was more valuable in that week than all I had
learned in four years of composition study at university. It was an adventure
in every respect. For some lessons he introduced me to the rudiments
of the Sergam system, North Indian modal devotional tradition, which
he studied for many years with the great singer Pandit Pran Nath. It
was mostly with a Tambour (drone), with him spinning off vocal lines,
and me doing my best to imitate them, just like teaching a baby how to
speak, really. I wish I had another lifetime to explore that tradition
to the level that he has (or Arabic music, for that matter) — at
this point it remains a huge eye-opening experience. Other days we discussed
composition, and others I would just improvise for him and we’d
discuss aspects of what I just played. He’s developed this astounding
way of merging the melodic and rhythmic characteristics of Indian with
Western, somehow keeping the integrity of both intact. We even discussed
politics, which was a key issue for me — his humanity further amplified
my experience of his music and re-affirmed that among these great musicians
are also people who are equally well-intentioned and not just pure ego.
That might seem off topic, but it was a huge thing for me. It accelerated
my own thinking about ways to realise the merging of elements that I’m
trying to fuse together.
— interview by Craig Fraid Dunsmuir
THE
CRAIG DUNSMUIR GUITARKESTRA
WAVELENGTH 157
Sunday April 6, 10pm
Purveyor of: chopchopwho’stherememewhomekanada70
craigfraid@wavelengthtoronto.com
Craig Fraid Dunsmuir: court-jester/shit-disturber with CITUS, freed captive
bass logician in Celestino and Kid Sniper, turntable commander of the
Danger Figure Centre, king of the run-on sentence in Wavelength and soon
set to stun with new math super-trio Nouns. Yet above all else, the role
he was born to play: mastermind of The Craig Dunsmuir Guitarkestra. Jonny
Dovercourt seeks knowledge from he who controls the left-handed Strat,
Line 6 sampling/looping pedal and big-ass Traynor amplifier.
When I first met you, through membership in the original Guitarkestra
(ironically enough), you were quite upfront about the influence of Steve
Reich on this project. In the last few years, a definite African influence
has seeped in, without making the ‘kestra any less Reich-ian. Borrowing
from African musical traditions can put North Americans on shaky ground,
mainly thanks to the lameness of Paul Simon and hippie drum circles everywhere.
How do you address the age-old question of cultural appropriation? Or
is that just a neurotic middle-class-white-boy hang-up? (Note: February
2003 marked the 10th anniversary of the the first band interview I ever
did, with Kevan Byrne of King Cobb Steelie. I asked him more or less
the same question.)
Seeing as how Steve Reich took the basis of his 3x4=4x3 12-beat percussive
fixation from Ghanaian drum patterns that he learned firsthand while
studying in Africa, I guess I was pretty strongly taking secondhand influence
from African music even before I became obsessed with griot-style field
recordings from Ghana/Burkina Faso/Mali/Zimbabwe and studio-session funk
from Nigeria/Ethiopia/Eritrea... But another huge and admittedly obvious
influence, as far as Americans go, has got to be Ian Williams of Don
Caballero and Storm and Stress. I’m the first to admit that, especially
when it comes to this new tapping style that I’ve been trying out.
He’s a direct source moreso than any African influences that may
have seeped into either of our playing, whether through Reich or not.
The funny thing is, though, that I first toyed with his two-handed tapping
style in order to try and change my technique on some new stuff I was
coming up with to a more pulse-based, free-but-with-set-chordal-parameters
playing style like he uses in S&S, but I felt uncomfortable and over-aping, ‘cuz
it was just like S&S but without the calibre of playing, so I figured “why
bother?” and decided to just keep it more regimented like the old
Guitarkestra pieces, and it all felt more like “me” — that
is, until American Don came out right around then and I realized that
he was heading in the exact same direction, albeit of course with way
more virtuosity. Oh well... (This neurotic middle-class-white-boy apologizes
for completely skirting the issue, but, then again, that could be indicative
of just how utterly un-hung-up I am on that matter, and instead how hung-up
I am about appropriating from my fellow appropriators. [That reminds
me: must get around to finally listening to hangedup.]) “He’s
a poor boy, empty as a pocket, empty as a pocket with nothing to lose.” (A-wa,
a-wa.)
With its emphasis on development and repetition, the Guitarkestra appears
designed to put the listener into a deep trance. Is this your aim? How
do you want people to react to your music? When you perform in a club
environment, do you expect rapt attention from the audience, or can it
be an aural backdrop for the drinking-and-socializing sideshow? Or a
bit of both?
Speaking of older white dudes who I’ve completely ripped off, the
whole over-amplification-as-hopefully-aiding-audience-immersion angle
was completely inspired by watching this wicked documentary that Peter
Greenaway did about Philip Glass, wherein his Ensemble primarily played
stuff from Glassworks and a few sections of Einstein On The Beach, I
think, and the sheer force of Kurt Munkacsi’s set-up makes the
whole thing as completely palpably massive as you’d imagine those
Kingston bass-bin roots/dub sound systems would’ve been. Combine
that with cracking up over how ridiculously lion-like Glass’s Jew-fro
mane looks as it bobs over his face as he dramatically bows down over
his keyboard to cue each next part, and you can imagine me just thinking “Holy
shit... I really need a new amp. Now.”
The ongoing challenge of scheduling rehearsals and teaching complicated
parts to other guitarists forced you to replace the entire Guitarkestra
ensemble with a looping pedal. Necessity being the mother of invention,
of course, this took your music to another level. If you could find willing
and able bodies, would you try assembling the Guitarkestra as a collection
of multiple humans again? And can we expect any Guitarkestra recordings
to surface for public consumption at any point in the future?
Realistically, I’m starting to think that the only way I could
get another ‘real’ Guitarkestra going is if I learn actual
classical notation (unlikely in the near future — I’m too
lazy and am having too much fun as it is to find it worth it, as well
as some part of me thinking it’d kind of ruin it if I actually ‘knew
what I was doing’ in a way that didn’t consist of making
ridiculous tab-graphs that only make sense to me) and weasel my way into
the new-music community, a pre-requisite for which, however, would entail,
funnily enough, learning actual classical notation and not being shy
and lazy. Not that this is worth making a big deal about, but I can’t
find myself legitimizing this music in that manner any time soon. I mean,
not to preclude myself from getting gigs at The Music Gallery, ‘cuz
that’d be fucking amazing, but this is my version of punk rock,
my bastard mongrel, maybe even (much more begrudgingly and hesitantly
uttered, of course) my version of the blues as far as the power-of-one-ness
and vulnerability of it all stands, and even if none of the specific
ideas are “mine,” I’ll still simultaneously hug’n’suffocate
the life out of and into it any-old-how. Not that I don’t dream
of shaving even less, poofing my hair up even more, and wearing my tweed
coat all-year-’round Branca-style, but, y’know, that’d
require buying my own cigarettes and all.
- interview by Jonny Dovercourt
BUSH
LEAGUE
WAVELENGTH 158
Sunday April 13, 11:00pm
Purveyors of: Garageland art and trash
dan@truckermagazine.com
In their as-yet brief existence, Bush League have managed to piss off
just about everybody with their admittedly annoying stage antics. Darren
Pelcz (vocals, nudity), Zak Hanna (guitar, ex-Pecola/Shut-IN), Daniel
Vila (guitar, Trucker mag) and Mark Jarrett (drums, ex-Teen Crud Combo)
kick out a bluesy garage stomp with art-school skronk (and pretensions).
Julia Muth is the voice of righteous indignation:
Who the fuck do you think you are?
Daniel: We are Bush League, a band with the scrotal gusto to have a complete
and utter ambivalence towards the audience response we produce. The more
vast the plurality of response, the better. When we go into a performance,
we provide the audience with a set amount of stimuli, but the ultimate
reply that we elicit remains entirely in their hands. This is precisely
why I find the “please dance to us” plea delivered by many
bands to be so frustrating, and above all, dull. This attitude posits
that a performance is little more than a dance/don’t dance referendum,
rather than something textual, which every good performance should be.
I, for one, would be much more interested in one of our shows resulting
in a riot or spontaneous group fuck than a room full of frothy-mouthed
toe-tappers. For example, when we played Cinecycle back in February,
Darren came out naked, prompting the audience to part, thus creating
a corridor down the middle. It was funny, because in their attempt to
flee, they only amplified Darren’s access. This meant that he was
able to rub his balls on more people than even he previously imagined
possible, including those at the back of the room. Seeing a show of ours
turn into a social Darwinist playground, to me, was hilarious. I enjoy
seeing the audience perform.
Why should we give a shit?
I’m not in the business of begging people to care about whatever
it is my deal happens to be, so I won’t bother. I will note, however,
that if you think about things in terms of nostalgia projected into your
future past, we likely offer an exponentially greater level of nostalgic
capital when compared to the next stupid band.
What the hell kinda noise are you trying to pass off as music?
There are certainly many bands these days that are causing a racket that
provides little in the way of content. Do many of these bands deserve
to exist? Likely not. All these wailing troglodytes are all the more
hilarious to me, because the greatest performer since the dawn of recorded
music is doubtlessly Texan gospel bluesman Blind Willie Johnson, who
nearly conveyed the thematic totality of existence in his 30-odd-track
songbook. And he was dead by the late-’40s! Basically, no one should
have bothered recording music after him. Which brings us back to the
original question. To respond, we’re not trying to pass off shit.
We are inherently superfluous due to our mere existence as a musical
group. We’ve added insult to injury by being a bunch of pale-skinned
urbanites peforming a pejorative cultural/racial co-option, seeing as
how we’re greatly informed by Delta blues, a genre we couldn’t
possibly understand. Just as Sisyphus accepted his fate of eternally
pushing a boulder up a mountain, we’ve come to accept our own fate
as part of the problem.
Why is your singer such an asshole? (If he’s naked and gets in
my space, I’ll castrate him, swear to God.)
Darren is probably one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Even
if this weren’t the case, our shows aren’t about the maintenance
of personal space, they’re about its obliteration. Levels of controlled
comfort give way to a battle of wills, a temporary autonomous zone of
sorts. This of course demands an open-ended reply from any audience member
unwillingly graced with Darren’s often overbearing prescence. So,
in response to your threat, while we welcome attempted castration, we
do not welcome self-righteousness.
FUCKED
UP
WAVELENGTH 158
Sunday April 13, 10:00pm
Purveyor of: Hardcore punk Circa: NOW! (note Rocket From The Crypt
reference)
www.derangedrecords.com/pages/bands/fu.html
Fucked up are an incredible band whose live shows drip with raw
energy and an intensity that’s hard to match. Their recordings alone allude
to something that just has to be seen. There is one puzzling fact about
Fucked Up however, and I’m not referring to their strange choice
of name. These guys have sold over 1500 copies of their first 7” and
enjoy playing to crowds above club capacity at many of their live shows.
Despite all of this, they remain virtually unknown on the Toronto music
scene. What gives? Wanting to get to the core of the problem, I caught
up with lead guitarist Mike Haliechuk and singer Damian Abraham to get
the scoop about being Fucked Up.
First thing’s first... what’s with the name?
Mike: It’s a song by the band N.O.T.A. We named the band Fucked
Up to try to get our drummer Jonah kicked out of his house.
Damian: We wanted him to be homeless like our guitarist, Concentration
Camp, to increase the realness.
So you started out essentially as a joke band?
Mike: No.
Damian: The band was a joke band starting off, but became a real band
when I joined. Then we got real big, real fast.
I assume you’re referring to your record deal with Deranged Records.
Damian: We record a record and Gord (the label manager) has to deal with
it.
Mike: He’s our sugar daddy.
How can a band sell over 1500 copies of their first 7”, yet still
remain unknown to most of their hometown? Why are you such a mystery?
Damian: Because we don’t have keyboards and saxophones.
I understand you have a new album out... hook us up with some details!
Damian: It’s a three-song 7”, recorded with the help of producer
Jon Drew (from Raising the Fawn) and engineered by Phil Spector. Unlike
our last 7”, we’re actually happy with the way it turned
out.
You guys are used to playing shows on the underground punk circuit. How
do you think regular Wavelength attendees will take to a band as “hard” as
Fucked Up?
Mike: By not coming.
So, what would be on the Top Ten list of what people can expect at the
show?
Mike and Damian: 300-pound tattooed prison guards, getting spit on, blood
and broken bones, drunken Latino skinheads thrashing around, mods running
for their lives, Greg Davis doing a feet-first scissorkick stage-dive,
no communists, no keyboards, no hype, and no repeat performances.
— interview by Daniella Costanzo
BLACKEYES
WAVELENGTH 159
Sunday April 20, 11:00pm
Purveyors of: We ain’t country, yep
www.blackeyesmusic.com
Blackeyes are a little bit twang and a little bit hootenany. Nick Taylor
has seen both with his own naked eyes. Their last Wavelength performance
was in April 2001, when Wavelength was still at Ted’s Wrecking
Yard (R.I.P.). But now we’re at a new home, and it’s high
time to re-christen the stage with some Blackeyes action. Artist Interjection
here: Wrong, Doc — we’re a little bit “twang” and
a little bit “whhooryyaang” and we played the second anniversary
last year.
When is a song not a song?
Who am I, Ezra Pound? Greil Marcus? I don’t know. When is a question
not a question?
What are your feelings about Johnny Cash? Are there any country influences
you’d care to name? Is it “okay” to “play” “country” “music” and
still be “cool”?
Well, for one thing, Blackeyes certainly don’t play “country” anymore,
and I don’t think we ever did. Some members of the band aren’t
even aware of that tradition at all. We’re Swedish, Belarussian,
Newfie… Katia and I are from a place in England where the only
two “influential” cultural exports I know of have been S.T.
Coleridge and PJ Harvey (now that’s my kind of country — west
country!). I never listened to country music as much as I listened to “pop” music
or even to jazz. Our first record had a few songs that played around
with country imagery and structure but, if not on that record then certainly
since, we equally play around with “found-sound” traditions,
Gypsy and Slavic musical traditions (the band name comes from a Russian
folk song), and cinematic and visual arts influences. I’d just
finished four years of Film Studies when we founded Blackeyes, which
is way longer than I’d spent playing in bands. I think it’s
a strange and damaging trend in the indie crowd to term anybody who decides
to write heartfelt material and who might still believe in a tradition
of “songcraft” as “country” or some other regressive
term. I think that’s part of the whole problem with trying to define
something as abstract as music. I guess there’s nothing wrong with “twang” per
se. Although I’ve never “twanged” my voice, my amp
does tend to make that sound. At least, being onomatopoeic, “twang” is
a more accurate description of music than the contrived, representative
and conceptual definitions of pop that, for me, have ruined rock journalism
and alienated larger, more casual audiences from independent music in
the last little while. I’d only be half-kidding if I said I’d
prefer “crash, skroonk, kik, kik, whiiiiirrr” rock to “electro-grind-punk” or “post-emocore” or
what have you. I never worked in a record store and I still have no idea
what those terms mean. Funnily enough, I’ve found the word “country” popping
up in a lot of my songs these days, but it’s always “country” as
in “nation,” and it always, in terms of both politics and
palate, begs to be delivered with a generous amount of bile. And as for
Johnny Cash, he’s (capital G) Great of course. Mucho Gravitas.
When I read his (wonderful) autobiography a few years ago, I had a dream
in which he was a southern King Lear. Carlene Carter was Cordelia and
I think Nick Cave was Edmund. Heavy.
Drummers. Gotta love drummers. A band can’t do anything without
a drummer. Discuss the difference between a) Kim Temple and b) tapping
your foot to an acoustic guitar and c) a casio drum machine.
Gotta love drummer jokes too… How do you know when the stage is
level? How do you know when a drummer is knocking at your door? Seriously
though, we’ve known a lot of drummers over the last year (almost
as many as drummer jokes), but hopefully we’re not going to have
to resort to Casios… I’m scared of funky machines. As for
Kim, the essence of the band had already changed well before she left
last year. She’s amazing, of course, and fortunately most of the
people that have come and gone and come again since — Blake Howard,
Sean Abedin, Nathan Lawr — are also of the Jim Blackley “philosophy” of
drumming, which means there’s something wonderfully unpredictable
and imaginative in their playing which is balanced, and probably comes
out of a very disciplined technique. Their style really suits our music
and while there is a part of me that wants to have a consistent band
(and lately, with Nate, Katia, Eugene and James it has been), I’ve
resigned myself to the beautiful chaos that is our “group.” I
don’t know what’s going to happen next, who’s going
to join and leave and rejoin. I have a tendency to play with people who
aren’t typical rock musicians, because I find it makes for more
of an adventure, musically and socially. It’s been great fun traveling
and playing with all these people over the last year, and in the end
that’s the only reason that, to me, makes sense for doing this
whole thing. I mean, hopefully we’re — all of us — in
this solely for the adventure. As for foot tapping… a vibraphonist
in Philadelphia once gave me a pair of shoes — my blues shoes — that
made a great racket. They made my toes bleed a lot too, though.
What is the secret recipe for peace in the Middle East?
I really wish I knew. I’ve been sick to my stomach over this for
a year and a half now. Not to be too obvious, but how about those old
ideas of cultural exchange, interaction and cross-pollination? Going
back to the earlier question about influences, I’m trying to listen
to a lot of Arabic music these days (and music is, of course, one of
the great instruments [no pun intended] of cross-pollination) and rather
than hear what some ivory-towered pundit or, worse, musician, has to
say about peace in the Middle East, I’d prefer to hear what somebody
in Tehran or Damascus or Jenin thinks. Five years ago, scholars were
talking about the death of the nation-state but now, of course, that’s
all changed. Although obviously this has little to do with the Israel-Palestine
conflict, I believe that if (North) Americans had the opportunity, and
more importantly the desire, to experience other cultures the way most
Europeans do I doubt Bush’s politic of paranoia would have the
effectiveness that it does in the U.S. right now. Most people don’t
seem to have the drive or the curiosity to understand and learn about
people on the other side of the world, or even people with different
histories who live in their own city. That’s why few people question
the authority of what’s told to us by our own sources. “Jihad” does
not mean Holy War, it never has. Linguistically it translates as “struggle,” any
Muslim can tell you that. Do most people question the translation CNN
gives us, though? Why not? Unfortunately, as worldly as we all think
we are, the average Sunday night at Sneaky Dee’s is as culturally
homogeneous a gathering as occurs in this town (see audience alienation,
above). I know it’s getting harder to do, but before the walls
really come up, we should do like Eric and Sue are about to (and as you
did too…). Get out into the world and mingle! It’s a lot
more important than anything our little bands will ever do.
-interview by Doc Pickles
GOLDEN
FAMILE
WAVELENGTH 159
Sunday April 20, 10:00pm
Purveyors of: Midnight suns and harvest moons
www.musicforcatsrecords.com
Golden Famile are not to be shaken, nor stirred, but savoured. The Ottawa
quintet, including former Kepler-ite Mike Sheridan on drums, will bring
sweet sounds of nouveau roots-pop from their contagious sophomore release
Eastern, Cloudy for a debut Wavelength appearance. Watch for radar traps — this
is toe-tapping material!
Pleased to meet you, Golden Famile. Give us a bit of background into
the band and how it all came together.
Started out as myself (Darrell Angus) and a cheap four-track. I sat around
in an empty room and recorded a bunch of demos of songs that never suited
any of the various bands I’d played in before. My good friend,
Richie (a fellow I’ve known for 16 odd years now), helped me turn
that into Golden Famile’s first record, which came out in 2001.
Over the past three years, I’ve been able to coax and cajole various
players from the Ottawa music community to help flesh out the live show
and newer recordings. As of now, there’s five of us but we’re
always on the lookout for more.
GF appears dedicated to drawing from a rustic sound of Americana. In
this era of fast-food digital production, how do you define yourselves
against the backdrop of modern cut-and-paste music? Is your approach
a decidedly organic two-steps-back, three-steps-forward response to contemporary
sounds, or is it a merely a natural form of expression for you?
It feels natural. It’s definitely not forced. We just do what we
do... and sound how we sound, I guess. It’s not a response to anything
in particular, just an expression of us and our surroundings. We don’t
try to stand out in any way... we want people to like us but if they
don’t, that’s OK too. The only reason we do this is for self-gratification.
It makes us feel good to record/play and when others have fun or enjoy
our record, that makes it even better. A friend of mine told me he was
humming a Golden Famile song while heading to a local tavern the other
night. Stuff like that makes it all worthwhile.
I’ve always admired Ottawa’s connection to French culture
and the community’s use of both Canadian official languages in
creating music and art. Has Francophone culture played much of a role
in defining your experience of Ottawa’s indie music scene?
It’s amazing living in the midst of different cultures. Ottawa
is really diverse as the embassies of the world are located here, making
it feel very cosmopolitan. Our Franco friends are important to us, however
I can’t say they’ve had any influence on anything other than
our taste buds (maple syrup and poutine). There’s nothing like
a steaming plate of cheese and gravy after going out to a rock’n’roll
show.
Tell us about the band’s creative process. How do you get from
inspiration to song to arrangement and performance?
I just play my guitar, bashing out chords until I have something that
I like. Mix it up with words I write down in a little book occasionally.
The songs are usually constructed around a melody or two. I play it for
the rest of the band and they usually pick it up fairly quick. They always
add their own touches too, which makes it even better for me. We don’t
perform live a lot so when we do, we enjoy mixing it up with different
instruments and arrangements.
Golden Famile — what does the band name mean to the band?
The Famile part comes from being part of a community of people we love
and respect. Ottawa musicians support each other constantly, no matter
the style of music played. It’s easy to be creative when you’re
surrounded by that. I was friends with everyone in the group before they
became bandmates. That’s really important to me. I think it shows
in the music too.
I received a $103 speeding ticket while listening to your rendition of “Dark
As A Dungeon.” What kind of voodoo are you servants of the government
conjuring up there in O-Town? Jean wants me behind bars, I’m sure
of it!
What can I say? Our drummer is a government employee, as is my wife.
A lot of people I know work in the hallowed halls. Good gig if you can
get it. I’m kind of proud of Jean right now for telling our neighbours
we will not go to war.
What are your plans for the future? Any tours we should know about?
We want to cover a lot of Ontario this summer and hopefully head out
east too. We were going to attempt the U.S. but that’s on hold
for obvious reasons. We’ll be heading into a studio in upstate
NY in early 2004 to put out album #3.
— interview by Mr. Boon
FEMBOTS
WAVELENGTH
160
Sunday April 27, 11:30pm
Purveyors of: Five can play that game
www.fembots.net
I caught Buddy of the Pines sleeping and won the assignment of interviewing
the Fembots (Dave MacKinnon and Brian Poirier), who haven’t played
Wavelength since Nov. 2001. Between the release of their 2000 debut album
Mucho Cuidado and now, they’ve been learning firsthand that recorded
music can have a life outside of an album or the radio. Luck (and good
songwriting) landed the Fembots a song in a TV commercial in the U.K.
Not bad for a couple of laidback guys who enjoy experimenting with toys,
tape loops and found sounds.
Does Dave still drive a hearse? I think Wayne Omaha are the only other
band in Toronto I’ve seen travel this way.
No, I was lucky enough to give up my career in Funeral Services for the
bliss and crushing poverty of life as a musician. I do miss that car,
though. It was the best drive-in movie car ever.
Any significant changes to the Junkshop studio since I was last there
(with Decoy way back when)?
It’s blossomed into a 16-track studio and the gear has gotten a
bit better, but it’s still very much the same. We built it as a
place where we could write and record without going bankrupt paying studio
fees. We’ve been lucky enough to be able to open it up to other
bands as well. It’s a pretty great thing to be able to help your
favourite bands make records.
How have you been getting your music into film and television? Is it
all who you know? Are you being pro-active, or are directors/producers
coming to you? Any advice for the kids out there?
Our whole approach is to do nothing and see what happens. You’d
be surprised how well it works. The key is to do nothing for a long time
(in our case about 10 years), then sit back and reap the rewards.
If you could write an original soundtrack for any director of your choice,
who would it be?
Fritz Lang or Wes Anderson.
What do you think is easier to promote, a movie or a record?
We’ve never promoted a movie, so it’s a hard question to
answer. Promoting a record is only hard if the record sucks. If it’s
good, it does a lot of the work for you.
What’s your favourite Johnny Cash song of late?
I’ve always loved “Long Black Veil” from the Live at
Folsom Prison record. It gives me chills. Someone really needs to make
Rick Rubin stop his campaign to have Johnny Cash cover all the hits of
early ‘90s alternative rock. Johnny’s too good to end his
days singing U2 songs.
How has Buster Keaton influenced your music? And what about Spike Jones?
Buster Keaton was able to do these insane stunts and still maintain that
deadpan expression. This was before the days of special effects and studio
fuckery when the consequences of making a mistake was much higher than
today. If you wanted a shot of a house falling on someone, you had to
drop a house on them. So you know if he’s off his mark even a little,
he’s dead. But he never misses; even better, he makes it look effortless.
I don’t know how it’s influenced us, but it’s pretty
damn cool. Spike Jones (the vaudeville musician, not the director) was
one of the first guys to incorporate sound effects and noise into music.
He was like Tom Waits 60 years before Tom Waits. He used to have someone
on staff whose only job was to reload starter’s pistols. He’s
very much like Buster Keaton; his act was so much fun and looked so effortless
that it’s easy to forget how difficult and truly amazing it really
was.
You once were two and now you are five. Is this only because your equipment
broke down and you opted for humans over machines, or were you planning
on moving in this direction anyway?
Both. We were having a hard time playing the new songs as a duo and then
all the gear we used for the two-man shows fell apart. These days we’re
more of a loose association than a band. It seems to be a different line-up
every show.
For those of us who have only seen you as a two-piece, please explain
how this has changed your live show and tell me what the line-up will
be for the Wavelength show.
The biggest difference in the live show is that Brian and I don’t
have to do the mad dash between every song to set up the tapes and sounds
for the next song. I know some people loved that part of the show, but
it made me feel like I was going to have an aneurysm every night. It’s
much less stressful now. Our sound hasn’t changed all that much,
even with the move towards a live band. The songs are the same at their
core, just dressed up in a different set of clothes. I’m not sure
who the band is going to be for the Wavelength show. It depends who’s
in town that day.
What was the best part about recording Small Town Murder Scene, and where
did you get that title from?
We recorded some of the record in a friend’s apartment while they
were on vacation. If you listen closely, you can hear the traffic outside.
The title came from the song of the same name. It just seemed to fit.
How are the walnut cakes treating you?
I‘ve never eaten any; I just like to watch the walnut cake machine
at work.
—
interview with Dave MacKinnon by The Temple Threat
THE
LOLO PROJECT
WAVELENGTH 160
Sunday April 27, 10:30pm
Purveyors of: Dancing for the basement lab set
www.mp3.com/lolo
Who is the real Peter Project? While he might seem like a humble employee
in the city’s coolest store, Paul’s Boutique, we at Wavelength
know his humility belies his talents as explorer, dancing bear trainer,
art exile, member of The Midways and flea circus impresario. Here’s
Peter!
A science lab... an experiment gone awry... you have one minute to
save the planet — what do you do?
Unplug it. Don’t tell my mom.
I heard you bailed Phil Spector out of jail. How’s he holding
up?
Not bad. I was working on a track with him, when he insisted we put
strings in the chorus. I refused, and he pulled a gun on me.
Fill in the blank: Music...
...to pinch a loaf to.
Who are your minions, and where did you find them?
I found them in the basement. They are small.
What are those crazed feral noises that emanate from the Paul’s
Boutique basement?
Those are my minions. They work in the secret meth lab… Paul’s
Boutique is just a front.
Fill in the blank: Today the Lolo Project, tomorrow...
Tylenol, coffee, water, lots of gravol.
Craziest sample ever used?
“
You have crabs, ass face,” from the cartoon Clone High.
What is your favourite Bill Murray Moment?
“ He SLIMED me!”
What is your idea of the perfect party?
A drunken beer helmet party, which I will be hosting at my house on
the 26th. Beer helmets/hats are required. Home built preferred. All
with beer helmets are welcome. Drunk.
— interview by Nora Charles
April 6
DJ Come Easy Come Wrong
DJ Come Easy Come Wrong does not like the way DJ CECW looks. Please do
not shorten this title. Pretty music will be played if only the full
name stands. Really, give CECW a try phonetically... it’s just
no good.
April 13 selectors: The Rabies
“
THE RABIES — Born to raise hell!!!!!!!”
April 20
DJ Katie
Formerly bringing you Katie’s Eighties, DJ Katie spins again.
April 27
DJ Tape
Former guitarist for Mean Red Spiders plays hits cued from his tape collection.