Four years ago two friends and I decided to start a band. My friend Jason played guitar. My friend Paul was going to play bass – he just didn’t know it yet.
Your inference is correct: no, Paul did not know how to play any instrument at the time we decided to form a band, so we decided he’d play bass. I’m sorry if I’ve offended bass players in any way.
Earlier that year we had discovered Purevolume, a site which, like Myspace, allowed anyone to create a band profile, upload music, create a short bio, and keep a calendar with show dates. In my eager anticipation of DIY greatness, I had created a Purevolume profile before we actually ever played together.
And yes, this also means we had multiple meetings to decide on the all-important name before every picking up instruments together. We decided on the “Endemic Din.” After we realized that no one knew how to properly pronounce it, including ourselves, we wanted desperately to change, but we couldn’t–we already had a Purevolume and hotmail address under that name.
And yes, we also wrote a group biography and individual biographies detailing our musical journeys, despite ever having began a musical journey.
With the details above checked off of our list, we were on the road to DIY greatness. We were just counter-cultural enough to make ourselves feel edgy, but not so counter-cultural that the girls thought we were too lame. We walked the “edgy” line with just the right amount of caution that eventually the girls used paint pens to create the first Endemic Din t-shirts. (We forgave them for misspelling our name on account of having forgotten how to spell it ourselves.)
Only three check-boxes remained: practice music, record an EP, and start playing shows. We planned on accomplishing them in that order, too. Paul’s brother had a PC, SoundForge and a few microphones, so our homemade EP already had DIY bonus points before we ever had music to put on it.
Our first practice was, in our minds at the time, a huge start: we arranged our instruments in my garage in such a manner that was most conducive to not only sound but to stage acrobatics as well, and taught Paul to play Weezer’s “The Sweater Song,” adding a second song to his repertoire, which had thus far consisted exclusively of The White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army.”
To top off the afternoon, we took the ever-important publicity pictures that were to add aesthetic flavor to our Purevolume and then be artistically made into a montage in the liner notes of our soon to be released EP. Actually, these pictures appeared soonest in the clear front pocket of various girls’ three-ring binders. (These were different girls than the girls who would eventually make the t-shirts; these were older girls. We were quite happy with ourselves.)
Here is what our first two original songs were: a rip-off of “The Sweater Song” we called “Turtleneck,” which was different in the fact that it was instrumental (more soloing time) and slightly faster (Paul didn’t cope too well at first). The second was a song we called “Top Gun: Resurrection,” which consisted of the theme riff from the movie “Top Gun” coupled with a harmonizing riff that culminated in, believe it or not, a faster tempo and more soloing. The efforts of these first practices were fueled solely on a diet consisting of our collective desire to turn into DIY underground legends and a healthy dessert of more publicity photos at the end of each practice.
Box one of the three remaining boxes, check.
The obvious next step was to record our music in order that we may have music to compliment the photos and bios on Purevolume. We found out that recording was much harder than it seemed, but we persevered and, in just a few cumulative hours, put down both “Turtleneck” and “Top Gun: Resurrection.”
However, in less than a week, we realized we were completely unhappy with our recordings.
This was an unexpected setback. We were supposed to love our basement recordings. According to our DIY model, we weren’t supposed to be impressed with the quality, but we knew we were supposed to feel some sort of attachment to them. But we did not. We eventually just tried to forget about the whole ordeal. We moped for a few weeks, stopped practicing. Eventually, we found another friend who played guitar and sang, got inspired and motivated once again, changed our name, got a new Purevolume, and decided to start relentlessly practicing with the conviction that this time, this time would be the time.
This was the first of exactly three instances in which the entire process described in the paragraphs above would be repeated in the span of three years. The only constants were Paul, Jason and myself–each turnover brought new members, a new style, a new name, a new Purevolume, a new basement single and new dreams of DIY greatness. And each time, our master plan was spoiled, either by our own lack of commitment or by our inability to truly enjoy the music we wrote for more than five or six weeks. It was in these moments of self-loathing that things got tense. We had to practically force ourselves to play together. We argued over ideas. We got dejected at not meeting the goals we set, and responded not by trying harder, but by giving up.
And sometime this past year, when recollecting my thoughts much like I’m doing now, I realized that the most probable suspect of our repeated let-downs was our intention. We played with the intention of “getting big” and pleasing a fan base before we solidified the most important and foundational fan base: ourselves. Perhaps this is selfish, and if it is, well, it’s something everyone has the right to be selfish about.
I realized that in each of our former incarnations, we started out with plans that were too far-fetched. We wanted to record songs before we had any songs we were really sure if we liked. We wanted to play those songs at shows in venues before even getting deciding if we liked how the song sounded in my garage. In short, we were constantly playing music for the purpose of approval from various external factors, instead of allowing our music to grow organically and honestly from inside ourselves.
Earlier this year we realized that perhaps the latter of the two methods would be better. We started playing music together without any plans other than to enjoy ourselves. We started playing again because it was something we liked to do together. And we started making stuff we really enjoy playing. It has kind of turned into a group therapy of sorts; we get together whenever we have time, relax, goof off and just jam. Now it’s okay to do a fifteen minute instrumental jam. Now it’s okay to try really weird ideas, to add that djembe or that synth in the song–if the idea flops, who cares? The mood is a lot less tense. We lose track of time. We just play together, and it feels good.
I hope there is a good chance that your band can skip all the stuff in between and just get down to what really matters: playing music you enjoy with people you enjoy playing with.
– Max Thorn
(http://www.myspace.com/voluntarymotherearth) Voluntary Mother Earth – Unacceptable Vegetable
Eccentric, hilarious, absurdist rock from Tokyo.
What do you get when you mix powerful rock with funk and hilarity? A tomato, actually – which is, more specifically, an Unacceptable Vegetable. This album from (http://www.myspace.com/voluntarymotherearth) Voluntary Mother Earth is insane and satirical, but also has a strong rock foundation.
Unacceptable Vegetable begins with an ominous bell tolling, but then launches straight into heavy rock. They make the hilarious demand of “give us a tomato” in the opening song of the same name. By this point, it has definitely stopped sounding ominous, and has instead set the album’s rock-oriented sound. It also makes it clear that this band does not take themselves too seriously. The balance of head-nodding heavy metal sound and goofy lyrics in “Give Us a Tomato” is certainly original, if a bit disconcerting at first.
“Free Head for a Free Ride” is a funkier song, with more of a jam-band feel. The subject matter of this tune is blatantly sexual, which is another common motif of this album. Take, for example, the last two tracks, which are respectively titled “Forgive My Penis” and “… And You Got My Penis Hurt.”
Frequently on Unacceptable Vegetable, Voluntary Mother Earth expresses the strangeness of everyday activities. This is especially true on “I Said ‘Just Water, Please’ and She Gave Me Sprite,” which is about, well, just that. The entire song discusses someone who goes into an IHOP and orders water to drink, but, alas, gets a Sprite instead. Its extremely dramatic interpretation of the event is far funnier than its apparent ordinariness. This song isn’t simply funny though – the theatrical rock accompanying the lyrics suits their satirical style.
Another standout track is “A Story of the Typical Week of a Starving Musician.” This fast-paced song is not as hard rock as some of the rest of the album, but has more of a danceable sound, with the use of synth keyboards and funky guitar riffs. There is also a surprising honky-tonk break in the middle (which is not meant to be completely serious, of course).
Overall, Voluntary Mother Earth manages to combine heavy rock music with crazy lyrics and subject matters on Unacceptable Vegetable in a way that really works – as long as you don’t take music too seriously.
(http://www.myspace.com/venna)Venna – Venna EP
(http://www.commoncloud.com) Common Cloud Records
Impeccably written acoustic folk/pop led by comfortable, beautiful female vocals.
The only female-fronted band I’ve ever really been able to connect with was Sixpence None the Richer. Leigh Nash’s voice had a comforting timbre to it that made me a believer almost instantaneously. I routinely fall asleep to the band’s self-titled album, not so much because the music is entrancing (although it is), but because it’s not hard to imagine Leigh Nash’s songs being your own personal lullabies.
That is, Sixpence was the only female-fronted band I’ve been able to get into until now. With the release of Venna’s (also) self-titled debut release, Venna has implanted itself squarely in my consciousness.
In a way similar to Leigh Nash, Heather Hladish’s voice is a smooth, pure dream of a voice that floats over whatever music it’s put to. Most of the instrumentation on the EP is acoustic-based; acoustic guitars, violins and voices dominate the beautiful songwriting. Add to this pleasant backdrop the gorgeous vocals of Hladish, and you’ve got a winning combination, every time.
It’s not to say that the music isn’t interesting or inspiring; the songs are well-written, well-performed and astonishingly well-recorded. From the quick fingerpicking of “Big City Story” to the epic build-up of “Papers,” the songwriting is worth writing home about. It’s just that for every guitar melody or harmonica flourish, there’s an incredible vocal performance stealing the show. The burbling guitars on “Common Knowledge” could carry a song by themselves, but they don’t have to – they’ve got Heather to do that.
The aforementioned “Papers” is a brilliant entry on Venna’s EP – a seven minute epic that never gets heavy-handed but maintains the listener’s interest all the way through. Despite the brilliance of the song, the highlight here is easily “Meet Me in the Hammock (Bring Cigarettes)” – a song so entirely comfortable vocally and free-flowing musically that the whole thing seems effortless. Pair that with simple, heartfelt romantic lyrics of the piece, and it’s a knockout.
What I’m trying to say here is that Venna has the best of both worlds. They boast impeccably written acoustic folk/pop songwriting as well as comfortably beautiful vocals leading the way. Venna’s debut EP is a surprising and wonderful mixture of intriguing folk songwriting and gorgeous female vocals. This EP will be lulling me to sleep for many nights to come.
– Stephen Carradini
Ukulele-based pop with unique instrumentation and songwriting.
Alexander Abnos plays three types of ukulele, guitar, piano, bass, drums, and more on The Heart Goes Nine, his album under the name Tut Tut. With all of these instruments, plus strings and brass to boot, Abnos’ songwriting shines in a unique way on this ambitious album.
From the first song, “Marquee (KC’s Theme),” a lo-fi and laid-back sound is introduced. The vocals have a fuzzy feel to them that adds warmth and intimacy, and this feeling is continued throughout The Heart Goes Nine. “Marquee” also sets the tone of the remainder of the album by introducing the sound of rich strings against pluckier and brighter instruments like ukulele, guitar and brass. The contrast balances perfectly, however, without ever feeling odd or misplaced.
The extensive use of ukulele adds an unexpected charm and originality throughout. One song that the instrument is especially apparent in is the mellow “Over – Under.” The layering of ukulele, sustaining strings and smooth horn tones makes this song sound like it is performed by a mini indie orchestra. The song that follows, “The Vern Song,” returns to a poppier sound at a quicker tempo. Despite the fact that it is the shortest song on the album, “The Vern Song” is still one of the catchiest on The Heart Goes Nine.
“It’s Happening Now (Aftershock Rock)” takes lo-fi sound to the album’s extreme with a wash of blurry sound. This may be fitting though for the song’s subject matter of an earthquake in California. The beginning of the song with only vocals and ukulele is a little fuzzy, and is hard to hear, but it picks up in the middle with the addition of bass and drums.
One of the album’s best is “Umbrella.” The narrative quality of the song is touching without being too overemotional. As “Umbrella” progresses, more and more sounds and instruments are added, aiding its development and keeping it interesting. By its conclusion, the song is very full, without being obvious of how it ended that way.
Overall, there are some slightly sloppy moments on The Heart Goes Nine, but these places don’t stand out as much as the album’s endearing and distinctive sound does.
– Megan Morgan
(http://www.rodeosatellite.com) The Transmissionary Six – Cosmonautical
(http://www.tarnishedrecords.com) Tarnished Records
Soothing indie/folk that errs on the side of lethargy.
Accurately summing up The Transmissionary Six’s new album Cosmonautical can be difficult. Lying somewhere between indie and folk-rock, the album is a low-flying and relaxed aural experience.
Cosmonautical proves that soft rock did not die with the 90s. The album remains emotionally reserved and stable throughout. There are no highs and lows in it; it’s pretty much low the entire time.
That’s not to say there isn’t a lot of great music to be heard here. The album has an uncommon sound, with a lot of emphasis on the use of slide guitar, giving it an almost country feel. The lyrics are also thoughtful in poetic, especially in songs like “Landslide” (which is not a Fleetwood Mac cover), “I Want to Deprogram You,” and “Your Holland Code.” The vocals are consistently appealing and never off-putting. Each musician seems to have quite a bit of skill with the instruments. Not once does any performance seem shaky.
However, the band’s unrelenting sound in every song often makes the songs blend together. Despite the album’s relatively short length, it can feel like it drags on unnecessarily. To be frank, the album makes me want to go to sleep more and more every time I hear it. There are a lot of great things about each individual song, and I do like them a lot. But the album as a whole is difficult to listen to in one sitting. It is quite simply too lethargic for me to feel like I can listen to it regularly.
– Nate Williams
Suburban Home Records (www.suburbanhomerecords.com)
Snappy pop rock whose lyrics burn with life questions and are punctuated by memories.
On his Myspace page, Scott Reynolds takes almost four hundred words to explain just what Scott Reynolds and The Steaming Beast is. The closest approximation Reynolds arrives upon for labeling the talented, cross-genre conglomeration comes when he notes that, “there can be like a hundred incarnations of the Beast.” With help from Dave Fridmann, Steven Drozd of The Flaming Lips, members of The Pavers, Bonesaw Romance, Drag the River and Bleed for Me, Reynolds’s latest release—the 10-song rollick entitled Adventure Boy—is a punk-rock melting pot boiling with Reynolds’s insightful lyrics. Oddly enough, Adventure Boy came off sounding more pop than its roots would indicate, but I wasn’t turned off in the least. Afford this full-length release a couple of listens and you’ll see what I mean.
There isn’t a particularly weak song on Adventure Boy, and for such a Frankenstein-esque collective of musicians to accomplish this is testimony to Reynolds’s control of his lyrics. Take the song “The Boy Who Stole Your Heart,” pick it apart, and you have what amounts to poetry. The opening verse runs: “I search the crushed velvet sky tonight, for a sign tonight, / that you could be mine tonight. / There’s no one around but you. / Not a soul in this town but you. Every sight, smell and sound is you.” The repetition of words is simplistic in nature, but Reynolds’s image of a crushed velvet sky stuck with me, and his personification of his girl-on-a-pedestal worked as “every sight, smell and sound” was touching and realistic. We’ve all felt that, I think, and Reynolds said it plainly and poetically.
As I was pouring over the lyrics on Adventure Boy, I was captivated too by the mini-biographies Reynolds provided for each song. They’re the grounding that makes each song uniquely his, giving them life and meaning. It helped outline the revolving door cast of characters and give them lives. My favorite was Gene Beeman, the heady protagonist of the super-catchy “Jesus, Satan, Gene Beeman, His Car, and Pizza Hut.” Gene walks everywhere because his car’s broken-down and he refuses to fix it. The song chronicles the annihilation of his belief in anything, and the subsequent interactions Beeman has with The Devil and Jesus. Reynolds uses the song to humorously point out how horrible it is to believe in nothing; it’s social-commentary in song form with a solid story line. That’s tough to do, and I give Reynolds credit for pulling it off.
Adventure Boy is marked by its guitar-tones. For much of the album—even with its slew of collaborating artists—the guitar-tones sound, for the vast majority, like a Telecaster on the rhythm pickup, tone-knob turned down hard, and run through a crystal-clear, slightly reverberation-tinged tube-amp. Across the board, these are pop-songs. There are backing claps (“Jesus, Satan, Gene Beeman, His Car, and Pizza Hut”), slide guitar lines (“Angel”), ooh’s and aah’s (“None of This is Funny”), and multiple backing harmonies scattered throughout Adventure Boy, stamping it as pop.
There’s so much to say about Adventure Boy, it’s just best to take a listen, steep in Reynolds’s witty and insightful lyrics while tapping your feet to the various styles that permeate this album. Enjoy it.
Timothy C. Avery
When people hear the phrase “The Battle of the Bands” all sorts of images pop into a person’s head. I think those of us a little older may think back to high school going to support our friends in garage bands trying to break the chains of mediocrity. If we are honest sometimes we HOPED for mediocrity from our friend’s bands.
Recently I attended a Battle of the Bands showcase put on by the Tulsa World at the Cain’s Ballroom. This particular showcase was for bands that were still in high school. These bands were chosen by the writers in The Satellite, which is a student geared part of the paper.
As you can imagine the audience was predominantly high school kids and forty-somethings there to watch their kid perform. The format for this showcase was simple. Each band was given fifteen minutes to play as hard as they could. To keep set up time to a minimum each band used the same drum set and roadies hired by the Cain’s Ballroom. The bands represented were Big Sleep, Black Sheep Drive, Juneaux, Phaethon, The Twenties, The Dull Drums, and Here is There.
Each band that took the stage wanted to win over the judges because the prizes were quite impressive. The winning band received a very nice prize package that included a 1500 dollar Said Music Gift Certificate, 1000 copies of a single that they get to record, a bass amp, a guitar, 1000 blank CD’s and labels, and a slot to compete in the John Lennon songwriting contest. Anyone can understand why this is a big deal.
The judges were local celebrities among Tulsa’s music scene. Davit Sauders, who has been a staple in the Tulsa music scene for a long time (I call him IKON because of a club he used to own in the 90’s), MC’d the show and actually did a great job amping up the crowd. When I saw his long silver hair and his kilt I was a little scared that the father of a band member had had one too many and was going to scream that his son’s band ruled or something. But Sauders introduced the judges and the bands, went over a few rules, then turned the show over to the bands.
As each band took the stage Sauders came out to introduce them and their school, as well as rile the crowd a little. After each band’s fifteen minute set he came back out, pulled another cheer out of the audience, and then would remind everyone to vote for who they liked best.
The only exception was a not so friendly reminder before Phaethon took the stage to not mosh and/or crowd surf.
The bands knew their audience, and their loose and carefree sets reflected it. The best compliment I could give is that the worst band I heard that night was better than the best high school band in my high school. I went to the largest high school in the state.
The band that caught me off guard and surprised me the most was Juneaux. Their set was the most diverse in my opinion and though they showed their age, they also showed a degree of maturity as well.
The night went off without a hitch but for one glaring problem. There was a horrible short in a cord that led to the amps on the right side of the stage. So whoever ended up on that part of the stage was at a real disadvantage. This was most noticeable during the performances of The Twenties and The Dull Drums but I don’t think this issue affected the outcome.
The winner of the Battle of the Bands was Here is There. Second place went to the Twenties for the second year in a row.
One clever spin that this battle had was fan voting. While the judges picked who they believed to be the most talented the crowd got to pick their favorite through quickly tallied fan ballot voting. The winner of this award was Big Sleep and they received a $500 Saied’s gift card.
The organizers of this contest did a stellar job promoting and picking high quality competitors. At one point in the night there were rumblings about students being kept out because the concert had sold out. That’s when you know as a promoter you’ve done your job.
This Battle of the Bands showcase was easily the most organized I have been to and it appears that this will continue to be a staple in the Tulsa area and something for high school bands to aspire to.
– Sean Payne
April. April april april. Aaaaaaapril. I’m so tired of April. I wish it were June. In June, we’re going to have some incredible new things to debut for you here on Independent Clauses. They will drastically change the way people view Independent Clauses (hint hint).
But that’s really the only reason that I’m trying to jump out of April. The CD release season is upon us, spring is here, and the lineups for festivals are being released. It’s a good time to be alive, in independent music and just in general.
It’s a good time to be Venna, as their fantastic new EP just got released. Columnist Max Thorn enjoys being in his band, now that he’s done every mistake in the book. The column makes me laugh, but it’s also got a lot of truth in it. There’s battle of the bands winners in this issue – it’s good to be them.
So I hope you read this edition and enjoy. It’s a good time to be, and I hope this edition will only enforce that for you. Enjoy the edition!
– Stephen Carradini
(www.lazuright.com)Lazuright – Silver Side Alien Zoo EP
German rock that will keep you wanting more.
Originating from a small town called Tuttlingen, Germany, Lazuright will definitely find themselves near the top of my list for the year’s best releases with Silver Side Alien Zoo EP. The EP is only 5-song release, but it is packed full of an intense sound that I cannot turn down.
The overall sound is great. With a four man line-up that consists of singer/guitarist Gerhard, bassist/vocalist Pablo, guitarist Johannes and drummer Tommy, the sound is very round and full, with loads of raw energy. Front man Gerhard has an amazing raspy voice that sits effortlessly on top of the powerful guitar riffs. The passion behind the music is felt through energy that I hear being expelled from my speakers. The lyrics themselves are just as catchy as the music and are semi-original.
Even though the songs themselves are catchy, they are not too complex. The tracks keep within the same keys and rarely stray away from them. They might experiment with an awkward chord for a moment, but it all stays within the boundaries. These few experimental moments can be found in the acoustic closer “No Place to Go.”
But there are incredible moments to balance out the little inconsistencies. Their use of contrasting guitar melodies and rhythms against the vocals is top notch, especially in “Vanity Fair.” Towards the end of “Vanity Fair”, there is also a great guitar solo.
Lazuright has made a name for itself in Germany, playing over 70 shows country-wide and winning several contests. After listening to this release, I hope they make their way across the seas to further impress me with their fresh, raw talent.
(www.fatearising.com) Fate Arising – Reflections of A Lost Reality
Rock with instrumental skill despite some vocal issues.
Upon first laying eyes on the cover art of Fate Arising’s album Reflections of A Lost Reality, one might expect something with a deep, dark sound and angry, growling guitars. This is not so much the case.
“Beyond My Reach” hits home as one of the brightest spots on the album. It is the most intriguing to listen to and demands the most attention. Power is fused with melody in this song, and it was one I found myself going back to again and again for another listen.
Meanwhile, “I. Misfortune” is the guilty pleasure. It is captivating from the beginning, and displays a darker presence. The guitar riffs are heavenly and catchy, and the first time it is played a listener could easily fall in love. It is fair to say this is the best track.
Throughout my listening of this album, I couldn’t quite put my thumb on what I felt was off about it. It’s nothing big; there is great sound, potent lyrics and each instrument is handled with a fair amount of talent. But that crazy little thing, that feeling that something was “off’ finally clicked into place when I realized that most of the songs took me back to what 1987 sounded like vocally.
Pat Lamar and Derek Tuttle, who respectively serve as guitar and bass players, feature vocals that are reminiscent of those you would hear in a late 80’s, early 90’s alt-pop rock ballad. It isn’t always a bad thing. I just knew I had definitely heard the likes of these vocals before.
Due to this, I feel that the impact of a lot of the songs comes across as a little weak and the album sophomoric. This works delightfully, however, in “She’s the One,” the album’s token acoustic song. The vocals are a little off-key in places, providing dissonance in the song, but overall I must admit it is a light, airy, little ditty that I picture myself frolicking through a field to. It is upbeat and has a steady tempo that the listener will undeniably tap their foot to.
Joe Wolford’s guitar is praiseworthy on “II. The Ivory Tower.” The man obviously has skill and displays it here, in a song that is more instrumental prowess than vocals (yay!). The minimal “singing” is actually more like talking. The “light on vocals, heavy on instrumentals” formula is what makes it a success.
Despite the band’s vocal pitfalls, Reflections of A Lost Reality is honestly a good album. I wouldn’t say great, but I will say good. Much of it has been heard before in garages everywhere. But oftentimes that’s where greatness begins. Fate Arising has certainly produced an album worth listening to, but in years to come they can only grow better with age.
– Emily Craner