CD Review: Malin, the Good Cover Artist

http://www.pittnews.com/arts_entertainment/malin_s_album_covers_ground_of_rock_n_roll_territory-1.1318387

Malin's album covers ground of rock'n'roll territory
Grade: B+

Covers may scream with potential for murder, but in the hands of the right people they become timeless and accessible throughout generations.

Jesse Malin’s On Your Sleeve might be covers galore, but this unique singer-songwriter crafts his covers in style.

He isn’t shy about his variety of choices, either. Lyrics from song No. 1 Bad Brains’ “Leaving Babylon” will probably sting deep, as Malin laments, “I say your dollar, dollar cut down real low / You ain’t got nothin’ to show / Gonna step right through the door / Not gonna come back no more.”

And while the music for Paul Simon’s “Me And Julio Down By The School Yard” is much more lively, the contrast with the lyrics should bring a look of bewilderment to anyone paying attention: “The mama pajama rolled out of bed / And she ran to the police station / When the papa found out he began to shout / And he started the investigation / It’s against the law.”

But no worries, Malin definitely brings more to the musical table. Neil Young’s “Lookin’ For A Love” introduces a bouncy beat and words that will make everyone smile while missing lovers past, present and even future.

Malin threw in an Elton John redo with a funky yet classic twist — “Harmony” lives up to its name with plenty of classic instruments and a possible synthesizer. Oddly the mix is able to throw peace at listeners rather well. It should, if it wants to match the words, “Harmony, gee I really love you / And I want to love you forever / And dream of the never, never, never leaving harmony.”

Rolling Stones fans will recognize the song “Sway,” just as Bruce Springsteen fans will recognize “Hungry Heart.” And while Malin has adapted them to be his own, sung in his subtly passionate voice, neither can be classified as mutated and mutilated.

Malin can go on to offer some more classic rocking guitar to share in “Russian Roulette.” In the tune he eagerly proclaims, with hippie-era slang, “Hey hey hey we’re in the movie. I feel up and I feel groovy / Let’s go out and get some of that. Gimme gimme gimme some Russian Roulette.” The track was originally by 1980s post-punk act Lords of the New Church, but in Malin’s hands it takes a new driving rock force, verging on U2 territory.

Don’t rely entirely on music throughout the album. “Walk on the Wild Side” is not exactly musically able to live up to its name, with just guitars and brass — but this is only because there’s a story to tell, and it isn’t really a happy one. Malin’s smoothed-out, Sunday morning version doesn’t exactly capture Lou Reed’s glory.

Malin is a good judge of when to turn up the tunes and when to back off and let the words do what words do best: Tell a story. Each song is emotional, the majority are rocking and charming in their instrument selections and all have something to offer waiting listeners.

CD: Efterklang’s Parades

Efterklang’s Parades marches from speakers
(http://www.pittnews.com/arts-entertainment/efterklang-s-parades-marches-from-speakers-1.1623712)

Violins, guitars and synthesizers aren’t always the smartest of mixes, but sometimes folktronic bands like Efterklang can get their quantities balanced in an even fashion.

Efterklang’s album, Parades, hits a sweet note once people can accept that the band’s name is a Danish word for remembrance and reverberation, and the album’s name is plain old English. Luckily the album box itself can smooth this oddball out.

The album is covered with a bright collage of building blocks. Very colorful pathways and stairs galore lead to buildings that might as well belong on a child’s play set. It’s colorful, it’s fun to look at and it inspires smiles with the memories the shapes might alight.

Does the artwork match the 11 songs, though?

Well, amazingly, it kind of does. For “Polygyne” Efterklang uses a violin along with computer and piano, and completes the first track with a humming choir and harmonizing vocals. This doesn’t mean the song is meant to have recognizable lyrics — it sounds a bit like Sigur Ros.

Next up, “Mirador” introduces the flutes and the brass sitting at the back of the orchestra and recording room. It’s pretty, and the vocalists continue to harmonize with their melody well. Still, it’s a little disappointing to not hear recognizable syllables enunciating their points in time with the drum.

Short but fully lived, “Him Poe Poe” lives up to the “tronic” in folktronic, kicking off with a synthesizer, opening for its piano and guitar. Oddly, among the violin notes there are traces of words — which might translate into, “For all the world / they’re ringing now. / Silver bells, / oh the words they’re singing now.” Of course, others might hear differently.

“Horseback Tenors” might be one of the most classically beautiful tracks, with the plucking of strings, the singing of a bow on a violin and a long lost comfortable feeling that reminiscences of those years when everything seemed festively beautiful. It’s a little weird to hear “Mimeo” right after, with nothing but a melancholic piano-bass duet filling the room and begging listeners to drop a tear for it. Emotionally, these two tracks are good to mess with someone’s head. Got it.

At least the album is varied — it’s better to hear different emotional levels mixed in with the instruments than to hear the same thing over and over again. Especially if listeners really, really want their lyrics. It probably isn’t going to happen easily — it’ll take a good ear to catch these syllables.

But at least this folk music is not out of date and impossible to stand — so even if the words escape, the chords won’t.

Poem: Cruelty

Cruelty

Here in Pittsburgh, the world can find its cultures meeting on one little avenue.
That avenue is known as the Strip District – and no, not because of the profession.

There, sword props sit on display in the costume shops next to the princess gowns;
Comic books are always on sale for $1 to satisfy the desire of the local dork squad.
Food from various places is mounted on wooden stands and sold in bargain deals.
All can find a fish net sprawled and pegged a restaurant’s kitchen door; I visited once,
To meet with a chef within, looking for cheap fish to give to my diabetic father.
I remember the heat bouncing off of the white-tiled walls, and the creaking of
The ceiling fan made me woozy, within the center of a noisy sauna. I left with nothing.

Down the crowded streets I continued to walk; I cut through a puddle-ridden parking lot
And found a box of abandoned puppies, wailing between velvet lips. I gulped back tears,
And carried the dripping box all the way to Animal Friends. Within the old
Office’s confines I signed the tiny little beings away to the sweet stranger’s hands,
And kissed one good-bye, whispering my wishes for his finding a happy ending
When he left this place – be it the kennel, the city, Earth…all of the above.

I took off, tore down that street, slid into my car, stomped on the gas. I drove
Back to my best friend’s house, fuming. We went to his room, and sat on the bed
Where he began cradling me while I fought the hot frustrated tears yet again.

Damn it, humans, I cursed; one of you dared to dump puppies in a puddle-ridden
parking lot?! You all claim to love one another, with your sweaty hands
Entwined and glued – but no one picked up those little golden puppies!

And Pittsburgh wonders why I hate it and humanity so much? It’s because I see
No one worth my love within the city’s limits. All I ever see, on a daily basis,
Are forms of torture and cruelty, there on the avenue point where the world meets.

Poetry: Dance Little Red Wings

dance little red wings

I have walked home from my music lessons
many times over. I have noticed that graveyard
fog and trees alike only begin to rise when a coffin
falls, slips into a hole within the graveyard’s body.

Around the streetlamps, with their delicate, pale
glow serving as a fading moon, dance little red wings;
red wings of butterflies breathing, syncing
with the living just across the street.

Some sleep soundly; but others toss in mourning or fright.
Some are terrified of the ground; others find
themselves wishing upon the first stars for a nasty poison
that will extricate them as soon as possible; with this comes

renouncing the forgotten children sleeping one room over.
Let the living deal with them, not the living dead, right?

For all of these souls within one apartment,
The red wings of butterflies dance - a single display
of color above the graveyard gray before the sprouting

of an orange dawn. Beneath this display, yellow flowers will emerge
among the green of mown grass, all of it there to remind
the world that where there are fallen blues, there are rising reds.

Poetry: Pondering Kelpies

Pondering Kelpies

Little Scottish girls might once have had a tendency to fear horses.
Such a shame, really. But it is the cost of their mythology, their frightening
Campfire-style bedtime stories. The Scottish believe, or once believed,
That a water demon would cause drowning of humans by turning
Into a large, gray, and lovely mare, inviting those to follow her through
A foggy night. (Because, of course, all demons must be evil and malicious.)

When the horses galloped over the meadowlands of the past, did the girls
Ever scream in terror and run from the thunder of the “murderers”?
Perhaps the sons did as well; perhaps all were equally frightened of being
Led astray and plunged into the icy depths of their surroundings,
After they spent so long easing away from the black that they all believed
They were safe where they were. Perhaps horses, the most useful
Of working animals, were not always trusted and were therefore sadly
Abused for reasons they would never understand. But surely, this does not
Matter. In the 21st, surely, there are no longer water demons on our lands
Waiting to drag us below their rippling obsidian waves.

Poetry: Good-Bye Grandma

I still miss you.

*

Grandma’s Dragons

Her graying china collects dust
As the painted scales
Of red and blue dragon hides
Glide along the handles
That we as a family
Dare not touch -
They are never to be used
Again, thus leaving the imprint
Of her drying, aged lips
In peace
at last.

CD Review - Harvey & Parish

http://www.pittnews.com/arts-entertainment/harvey-walks-away-with-a-hit-1.1651886

Harvey walks away with a hit


There is screaming, jamming and a ukulele — all in the name of depressing, moving, heart-touching music.

In a mere 38 minutes, PJ Harvey and John Parish take the listener through exhilarating and emotional territory on their collaborative album, A Woman A Man Walked By.

Jumping straight into the jams, “Back Hearted Love” begins on a dark, creepy and stalkerish note. The words, “I think I saw you in the shadows / I move in closer beneath your windows / Who would suspect me of this rapture?” conjure the image of a secret love that has completely enveloped vocalist PJ — short for Polly Jean.

Please, listeners: Keep any latent desires the song arouses confined to the lyrics. It is still illegal to stalk people.

From that hardcore opening, the duo progresses to a softer musical tone by simply singing and strumming their instruments. Still, PJ’s voice can impressively take over the deep notes and soar on the high ones, so the lack of jamming is only minimally disappointing.

The second track hints at a dark story of a couple playing hide-and-seek while counting down from 16 (hence the title “Sixteen, Fifteen, Fourteen”), only to cease with their laughter in a muddy garden.

The high-pitched ballad “California” says an ominous goodbye with the words, “No one but me is walking / Under palms that give no shade / I’m leaving you today.” It’s so easy to substitute other names for the metaphors established by the song, but the lyrics keep it superficially mysterious.

Four songs in, and there’s no sign of a cheerful ending. “Chair” ends with the words, “Pieces of my life / Are gone / Washed away in the water that took my son.” Oddly enough, this is the song that reintroduces the jamming guitar in a switch from the melancholic acoustics, creating a tense ambience in its harmonic chords.

Through “April,” PJ croaks over the organ, “I dreamed April / That I’m walking / That I’m watching / Your rain / It overcomes me.” The album seems to suggest that all relationships are doomed — at least the ones portrayed here.

Taking a step toward the gruesome, the track “A Woman a Man Walked By / The Crow Knows Where All the Little Children Go” takes the prize for longest song title, but also showcases the ability of the vocalist to switch between unfiltered harmonizing and aggressive snarling. The lustful song has contorted music in the background to match the animal nature of lust – the word “twitchy” is used, and it couldn’t be more appropriate.

Leaking into the realm of current events, “Soldier” proclaims, “It’s the year when some poet said / We must love or accept the consequences / I want you to share every pinprick of guilt / That I have felt,” as Parish strums away on his ukulele. The lyrics and PJ’s passionate vocals will make listeners feel the burning guilt the artists so passionately try to convey in the song, but only to a middling degree.

Ironically shifting to a song called “Passionless, Pointless,” suddenly the passion is gone, at least almost — it’s a passionate expression of a lack of passion in the relationship: “Passionless, Pointless / Where does the passion go? I’m asking / There’s no kindness in your hands / No reaching out for me tonight.” Confusing, yes, but the artists poignantly express their feelings in a relatable way.

Finally, at the end, “Cracks In The Canvas” proclaims, “Walking toward something / Waiting for something / I’m looking for an answer / Me and a million others.”

Right on, PJ. Thank you for that — because everyone will be clamoring for answers after this album.

RKYV #8 - Creation In Our World: Not All Creation Means Artwork

The idea of sharing photos will be put on hold until the May or June issue – probably the May issue. Unfortunately one of my classes is a bit tougher than the other four and requires full dedication if I want to keep my GPA from sinking, so I don’t have the time to log into a slow photo account to upload a photo. I had to pencil in time to write this on my spring break between visiting my family, and then a time to edit the final touches.
So. Back to the column.
*
This has been an incredible month of reawakening for me, so I hope no one minds this slight diversion from my typical topic. It certainly relates to creation and culture – just from a new perspective.

This column has traditionally focused on artwork as the main form of creation. Yet there is a good deal of creation occurring every day that many people overlook. Or, they and their culture find this creation a source of hassling annoyance.

I, for example, volunteer for the Invisible Children, Inc. group – nonprofit and founded by three young men when they were eighteen and nineteen years old in 2003, the organization has strived to collect donations and raise awareness to end a twenty-three year long war in Africa. In other words, it has strived to create peace and stability.

By the way – do not let this country dissuade you from reading. Africa is a gorgeous place as well as a troubled one. Its individual states have their own governments, and the continent has made stupendous progress since it was able to break free from colonialism one at a time in the late 1900s.

There are always the few bad apples to spoil the barrel; in the case of Uganda, one rebel named Joseph Kony who has refused to end his war against the government, resulting in his kidnapping and brainwashing of children ages 5 to 14. He is a wanted criminal for crimes against humanities – for encouraging a genocide that has spread from Uganda into three neighboring countries (the Congo, Sudan, and the Central African Republic). He has taken 30,000 children total since he began abductions in the 1990s.

Some have escaped; many have not.

So, where does the creation come into play, other than the apparently impossible creation of peace in this turmoil?

It comes in the form of three young men. Three young men who created a group and had the courage to do so when no one knew about their cause and the plight of central Africa’s youth.

They created a revolution; they breathed life into teenage activism; and since they began in 2003, they have created jobs for the suffering living in displacement camps under government orders. They have raised millions to begin to rebuild schools, to hire tutors and teachers alike, and to pay for tuition so the excited can attend school.

Don’t believe me? For two years this group has held my heart. I have donated hundreds, irritated plenty of thoughtless people, and recruited just as many caring ones. I have slept in the middle of a muddy field with over 2,000 strangers in my city, not to mention 68,000 total across our nation in the movement called Displace Me.

We got our message across; we bought peace talks. The only reason these peace talks failed? One man, one rebel leader, decided not to appear. And on this past Christmas he massacred over 600 and kidnapped over 200 children in retaliation against central Africa.

Yet Invisible Children, colleges and high schools alike, have held strong and have continued to fight for the end of the war. Because we cannot back out now; and when one approach fails, you try another. Because to back out now is to say what we created means nothing.

And we have created the greatest creation possible: HOPE.

Hope for the war torn adults; and hope for the children who have more motivation than the average American and who strive to become doctors and lawyers to prevent war from ever happening again. Hope.

Those humanitarian groups that I’m sure people here have cursed out because we’re silly, naïve, foolish for even trying to raise money to change another continent? We wouldn’t still be doing it and occasionally having our asses handed to us by a few punks if it wasn’t worth it, if the people who did stop to listen and learn and open up hadn’t contributed, and if a couple teenagers hadn’t dedicated themselves – even the ones not to the extreme as Invisible Children’s founders.

If anyone ever wants to participate in creating something as glorious as change, as hope, then now is the perfect time to do so. Help the organizations at schools and churches. Take part in the big fundraisers.

And for more information on Invisible Children, and the global movement that will be taking place to spread the word that 90% of a rebel army is composed of kidnapped and brainwashed children, visit:

www.invisiblechildren.com
http://therescue.invisiblechildren.com/

RKYV Column #7 - Creation In Our World: What Good Art Does

Hey gang! I hope no one missed reading this too much last month. I’m sorry to admit that January is not my favorite month of the year. It’s tradition that my mental health and relationships go to Hades for a brief fiasco and vacation, as well as my physical status. This year my back did not go out on me, which was a previous ailment – but I was sick for almost the full month. I still do not have a clear-cut reason for why this happened, so we’ll never know the reasons.

This was also the start of a new semester for me, which of course means pure chaos all around in terms of settling in and buying textbooks. Now that things are settling down, my classes are actually much more interesting on a personal level than last semester’s. Rather than taking basic classes that are prerequisites, I am able to take three English classes (on literature, journalism, and creative writing), a film studies, and another anthropology class in addition to last semester’s. It’s working out quite well for me. I have found myself back in touch with my inner muse after three months of being unable to produce much of anything. Having words near me constantly for English classes is doing me some good.

It’s also exposing me to some magnificent literary art forms. So of course I had to think, just what divides the art forms people like us create from the things we aspire to mimic and surpass?

To avoid going into a very deep essay, I think there are three very basic ideas behind “great art” that come off the top of a person’s head – and they are:

*Great art tugs your heart;
*Great art inspires others; and
*Great art transcends somehow in its simplicity.

This was an idea I had a long time ago – way back in August, when I was still exploring my college campus. I went inside one of the buildings to escape the heat and was lucky enough to catch one brave young man rehearsing in our music hall. I was incredibly moved by his voice and the song, a song about love.

See? A simple idea – a piano and a love song. This is a pretty basic and repeated thing. Yet this young man’s voice was able to stir tears in my eyes, and I went back to my room to write out my feelings as soon as I could form words to describe them.

Of course, there are other components to good art – and anyone who has ever taken a class focusing on it could probably rattle off the finer points. For our purposes, a three step check list is a good way to get started.

But why just rattle off a list?

This month is the start of a new idea. Rather than just preach about creating things, I figured I would share the inspiration I can find. Each month there will be an image posted under my column. It may be a photograph, it may be a poem, or it will be artwork. At first, I admit I’ll probably stick to personal photography. They will be good photos and will avoid any possible copyright issues, as long as no one tries selling the images of course.

I urge everyone each month to look over the image being shared and let some idea come to you. You don’t feel to make it a final idea, but how better to practice then, well, practice?

(Also – it will give everyone who takes part something to submit for the next month’s issue!)

This month’s image is:
http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a253/aniu15228/100_0414.jpg

So. Sit down, write a poem, write a story, paint a picture – come up with something new and original based on this, even if it’s just for practice to ease back into a routine. Stir up emotions in your words or colors. And through editing and changes, the other two should eventually follow.

I hope to see submissions based on this next month – because if I don’t this idea might not last long!

Best of luck,
-Larissa

Native American Dance Tour

http://www.pittnews.com/arts-entertainment/american-indian-dance-colors-byham-1.1599022

American Indian dance colors Byham
Retaliating against current societal turmoil, the traditional dances of the Lakota Sioux aim to bring the tribal message of peace and balance to Pittsburgh.

Cokata Upo!, translated as “Come to the Center,” is being performed by the Lakota Sioux Dance Theater, which has thrived since 1978 on the support of Lakota American Indian community leaders, educators, powwow dancers, singers and storytellers who’ve passed down the culture of the people.

In line with its goal to keep the message of the original culture alive, Cokata Upo! is a showcase of Lakota culture through traditional dance.

“The dances are authentic — the dancers are all champion powwow dancers,” said director Henry Smith. Smith is one of the founders of the 30-year-old Lakota Dance Theatre Project.

The media for Cokata Upo! are quite varied. According to Smith, the show uses storytelling, dance, ritual, video imagery and video projections to tell the stories of the Lakota and Dakota tribes, and each section of the show is interspersed with various dances.

“Some dances are story dances. Others are vision dances. There are different categories, like fancy dance, traditional men and women’s, jingle dance and fancy women shawl dances. There are a lot of different plains [American] Indian dances in the piece,” said Smith.

In addition to knowing their steps in multiple stylized dances, the dancers each own their outfits — and it was made quite clear that they are not to be confused as anything except outfits.

“They aren’t wearing costumes — they’re outfits,” said Smith. “Each one is a design of the family. The colors would be specific to the dancer, and the pattern would be specific to the dancer and their family.”

For example, “Eagle feathers might show that he was a veteran and had been to war. They are symbolic of that dancer’s history,” said Smith.

The choreography of each dance varies from powerful stomps and marches to intricate movements of the feet and body. The 11 dancers also repeatedly focus on creating a circular pattern, which represents a sacred symbol in the Lakota culture as well as the highly regarded balance of life.

“The balance with nature involves unity with animal spirits,” said Smith. “That’s a concept of balance between nature. The outfits represent that — there are all kinds of animal dances, like horse and buffalo. There’s an eagle dance. That’s the connection demonstrated between people and nature.”

The stage promises to contribute to this overall balance between the people and their surroundings, as well.

“It’s a full show with lighting effects and fogs,” said Smith. “We don’t have a lot of props. It really tells the story through the drums, narrative, dances, and the flutes and the way they’re juxtaposed. It’s the way we build the effects of the dances.”

Cokata Upo! is composed of three parts, each with a storyline that pretty much mirrors the classic Charles Dickens tale, “A Christmas Carol” — with the Christmas theme replaced and updated, of course.

“Birth of a Nation” contains the focus of the Lakota’s creation stories. “Death and Rebirth” depicts the turmoil of the Lakota’s present movement and lifestyle. And “All Nations Are One” is the hope for a united future among the Lakota.

“It’s going to talk about the birth of a nation,” said Smith. “How the lands broke apart, how the different tribes came together to form the nation and the eagle flag with the seven feathers and what it represents. Part of the goal in performance is to keep this alive.”

Pittsburgh Songwriters

Songwriters circle brings folk artists together
http://www.pittnews.com/arts-entertainment/songwriters-circle-brings-folk-artists-together-1.1305032

Folk music remains alive and well as songwriters gather in Pittsburgh to compose and share their craft.

The Pittsburgh Songwriters Circle is a group of local folk songwriters that meet at least once a month at The Bloomfield Bridge Tavern to share their music and appreciate the art of songwriting. The group of local artists performs for one another and receives critiques and input from other musicians within the circle.

The circle is a program of Calliope: the Pittsburgh Folk Music Society, which has promoted local folk music in Pittsburgh for over 30 years.

The level of dedication from the members of the Songwriting Circle varies depending on what they can spare and how important the music is.

“The group tries to provide a home base for songwriters of all stripes and ambitions,” said songwriter Bruce Hoffman in an e-mail interview with the Pitt News.

“There are some members who work very hard to break their way into national exposure and/or commercial success,” said Hoffman . “There are others who are perfectly content to play their songs for the birds in the backyard. Most of us are somewhere in between.”

Bobbie Townsend is one member looking for more than the ability to charm a backyard bird.

“My goal is to continue to write songs,” she said, “improving both my songwriting and recording skills and to continue pursuing publishing deals for TV, film and bands and recording artists.”

The Songwriters Circle also opens its doors to musicians who can’t afford fancy music lessons.

“Membership is wide open,” wrote Hoffman. “There are no dues or membership cards or initiation rites. If you show up for a meeting, write a song and/or sign up for the mailing list, you’re a member.”

Of course, every group has its challenges, as Townsend readily admits and describes.

“It’s sometimes difficult to find common ground when there are great differences in musical style, musical ability, craft, self-expression, ego and goals among the members,” wrote Hoffman.

“Even the critiquing process itself underwent quite an examination recently. But songwriters are a unique lot. It seems that, in the end, the desire to write songs comes out on top, and that’s what keeps the group alive,” said Townsend.

Another challenge is songwriters who are unable to set aside time for music or who want to try their luck in larger fields. Luckily, for every member that eventually leaves, another appears to fill his seat, keeping the group from drying out.

The Songwriters Circle also experiences the same difficulty many local bands do when it comes to getting its name into the public’s knowledge.

Songwriter Sam Flesher wrote in his e-mail interview, “I think the real challenge is to get the community aware of how much really good music is produced locally.”

And Jeff DeSantis couldn’t agree more. “Getting heard is tough,” he wrote. “There are a lot of people across the world with this dream. Getting your music noticed is an uphill battle, and it has a lot more to do with luck than talent.”

Unlike other bands and organizations, the Internet is used to a minimum amount in helping the group along. As part of the local organization Calliope, the Songwriters Circle is listed on the large group’s Web site.

But Calliope’s Web site hardly mentions most of its programs outside of one sentence, contributing to the lack of the Songwriters Circle’s publication.

Flesher was one of the members who went ahead to fully engage the Web.

“I wrote an article years ago for the Calliope Web page, and for years that article would come up every time someone Googled me,” he said. “There was a time we put a couple of songs up on the Internet.”

Still, the group refuses to let anything quell its songs, and the members continue to allow themselves to find inspirations for their music.

DeSantis described his inspiration as coming from, well, “all over the place. I tend to think about songs as snapshots that capture frozen moments, sort of like if in the middle of your day, you suddenly hit the pause button and really dug down inside yourself to describe how you or someone else was feeling at that moment.”

Once a songwriter finds inspiration, he has to write the song. Hoffman described the Songwriters Circle’s workshop method to improve his songs.

“One thing that we do is have a voluntary monthly assignment,” he said, “usually to write a song about a certain topic or in a certain style ... Some people do the assignment and some don’t, and those that do have been know to interpret the subject very loosely ... but I’ve heard some great songs come out of it.”

What the members do with their various songs depends on the comfort level of the player. Not all of their songs make it to public ears.

DeSantis described it as a balance between dreams and reality. “I think that inside all of us, we have that dream of getting out there and getting heard by the world,” he said. “Obviously that’s easier said than done.”

“[Twenty] years ago, I wanted to be a rock star. Now, I wouldn’t mind selling some songs to someone else who can get them out there to the world.” As a final thought, he added:

“I wouldn’t turn down the rock star thing.”

The Cab

(http://www.pittnews.com/arts-entertainment/the-cab-catches-a-lucky-break-1.1593849)

The Cab catches a lucky break


Every high school band dreams of getting picked up and mentored by its favorite band and skyrocketing up Billboard’s new artist chart.

But for Las Vegas-based band The Cab, it wasn’t just a dream — it was a reality.

When lead vocalist Alex DeLeon and bass player Cash Colligan founded The Cab, they put high school drama on hold and made the decision to record their music. Drum player Alex Johnson assisted in the recording.

Then the group began playing shows at Rock N Java, where Colligan worked.

“I asked when I could have nights off and was told when we would play shows,” said Colligan.

Guitarist and backup vocalist Ian Crawford also joined the group, along with pianist and vocalist Alex Marshall. Following their debut, the performances spread from their home base to other venues.

But The Cab really caught its lucky break when a band member from Panic! At the Disco discovered it and directed it toward a record label.

“We happened to run into them after ‘I’ll Run’ was released,” said Colligan, recalling The Cab’s popular hit song and meeting another rock star band. “It’s kind of a crazy experience. Everyone thought we were friends before then, but they were just supportive and saw the potential behind our music.”

The rumors could have started when the two bands performed together during the Rock Band Live concert tour.

“It was just wild. I’m glad they invited us to be a part of Rock Band,” said Colligan.

While incorrect in timing, the rumors do hold some merit to the present friendship held by Panic! At The Disco and The Cab.

“They’ve become great friends of ours,” said Colligan of Panic! At The Disco. “There’s nothing to gain other than friendships and where we go now.”

Naturally, the Internet assisted The Cab, in addition to fellow performers. The Cab’s decorative MySpace page, currently advertising its tour, hosts 105,494 friends to spread the word and share music — or, in a very rare moment, offer criticism. Colligan, however, hadn’t seen the latter become a problem.

“Whether there’s good or bad publicity, that’s still getting your name out,” said Colligan. “There’s a lot of people who can’t make it to our shows. There’s still kids secluded in their rooms clicking on MySpace all day long, and that’s the best way to get your name out there.”

MySpace hosts samples from The Cab’s musical collection, and each song varies in terms of instrumental uses and vocal intensity. The Cab’s music is known by many names, including fusion (the merging of jazz with other styles of music) and alternative indie.

The band has its own label for its productions. “The genre is called R&B-mo,” said Colligan. R&B and emo combined equals R&B-mo.

“I believe all five of us with our different musical backgrounds add something to this band that allows us to compose music and not just noise,” said Colligan.

Where some bands have to dedicate a year to recording a CD, The Cab has a speedier approach.

“It took us about five, six weeks to record our album [Whisper War], plus pre-production and writing. I guess for each band it depends on time limit and budgeting and all that good stuff,” said Colligan.

Songwriting is a team effort as well.

“Everyone contributes. It’s basically whoever writes a demo and presents it to the band. If we see it as worthy of continuing, we pursue it,” said Colligan.

The songwriting process does not discriminate against instruments, either. The Cab does not allow certain instruments to dominate.

“I think certain parts of different songs different instruments stand out. I think everyone stands out,” said Colligan.

And standing out is precisely what The Cab has done.

“We’re kinda riding it out,” said Colligan of their experiences in the music business. “I think in this business you have to stand out in some way to progress to other things that are out there. I think we found a way to move forward.”

The Gas Meter

Published w/RKYV e-zine.

The Gas Meter

Driving down the solid gray snake named I-79,
I can recall how I was once eager
to join the campers and adventure on the tracks of a museum;
as easily as I can recall the names of my pets, warm in my hands –
opposite of the car that attempts to imitate them

by purring beneath my feet as we gallop over the snake’s back.
Does the pet imitating machine honestly think that I don’t see
the meter on the dashboard? Not just any meter – the meter.

What once meant nothing to me, what was once a stripe in the car
now dictates every move both on and off the road.
Cash that once provided bread and butter in my hands
goes into the metal pet’s constantly open mouth; and
its speedy metabolism makes speedy use of any resources
I bother to spend on my metal horse and wagon.

It’s a relief to put the pet to sleep on top of concrete and paint.
But the medication and treatment never lasts forever.
When friends and I crowd around the August fire, all that we say
is, “Was anyone hurt while working on the railroad today?”

And then we check the bandages we pressed down our bleeding budgets,
and adjust the pressure to keep our loss to the minimum.
Finally, its time to load our heavy bodies into those unsatisfied
metal monster pets, turn the key to wake them and jumpstart
their digestion, and watch that sanity consuming meter all the way home.