Reuben and David from Quintus stopped by the Big Ugly Yellow Couch, a domesticated Brooklyn blog that hosts acoustic sessions on their sofa and include quirky poetic writings about the
When Michael Franti followed up his ambitious, politically-charged 2006 release Yell Fire! with dancehall mass-appeal on All Rebel Rockers back in 2008, it wasn’t entirely clear if he took a palpable 180° away from his activism, or more likely, just got swept up in his Jamaican studio environs. Apparently, the former proves truer as his latest effort, The Sound of Sunshine, takes it a step further as he reunites with Sly & Robbie in Jamaica for a portion of the record, and leans heavily on the formula that produced his first big hit the last time around: catchy-as-hell reggae grooves, dancehall sit-ins, and a fat dose of the Edge’s delay-laden guitar tone.
When Michael Franti followed up his ambitious, politically-charged 2006 release Yell Fire! with dancehall mass-appeal on All Rebel Rockers back in 2008, it wasn’t entirely clear if he took a palpable 180° away from his activism, or more likely, just got swept up in his Jamaican studio environs. Apparently, the former proves truer as his latest effort, The Sound of Sunshine, takes it a step further as he reunites with Sly & Robbie in Jamaica for a portion of the record, and leans heavily on the formula that produced his first big hit the last time around: catchy-as-hell reggae grooves, dancehall sit-ins, and a fat dose of the Edge’s delay-laden guitar tone.
[Photo by James Minchin]
In retrospect, Franti’s Yell Fire! project served a contradictory purpose in that what he expected to drive him toward an album of 15 angry songs, taught him about the importance of simply making people feel good with his music.
“I get scared, man,” Michael emphasizes in reminiscing about that period. “Being in Iraq especially, I mean, I hate to say it, but I couldn’t wait to leave. And I say that, because I met so many people there who were beautiful, kind, generous, and loving people, both Iraqis and Americans, who couldn’t leave. When I was just able to hop on a plane and get out of there, they were stuck in that situation. So, one of key things I learned there came from playing music on the streets for Iraqi families. A lot of times, I’d start by playing some quiet political songs and they would turn to me and say, ‘that’s really nice, but play something that makes us laugh and sing.’ It was a real lesson for me in making happy music.”
READ ON for more of Ryan’s chat with Michael Franti…
The momentum behind Tokyo Police Club’s second proper album, Champ, reached a rolling boil yesterday as the song Gone made an appearance on Gossip Girl. Glad to see TPC getting
It’s been a while since we’ve touched on anything Tea Leaf Green-related, so this week’s mix tape gives them the full treatment. Here we’ve got a supple mix of originals
Chatham County Line – an authentic acoustic bluegrass foursome from Raleigh – seems to be finally building some real momentum here in the U.S. upon their latest release, a timeless
Looking back on the early 1990s in Grateful Dead lore, it’s easy to understand why some folks view this as a less than heroic era for the band. Between the death of Brent Mydland in July of 1990, rumors of Phil quitting the band earlier that year and the transition into the Vince Welnick/Bruce Hornsby keyboard era not being met with entirely open arms, the bigger stories took precedent over the individual evenings.
However, when taken out of the broader context, some effortless digging uncovers countless gems from 1990 and 1991, as the band pulled out a lot of stops in the form of playful setlists, choice covers and impromptu jams. This edition of Bust Outs* hits on those high notes.
* Last Bust Outs [354 days]
It’s a Bullshit Lie! – Cal Expo, CA, 6/10/90
Let’s just clear one thing up right off the bat.
[audio:https://glidemag.wpengine.com/hiddentrack/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/gd90-06-10d1t04_64kb.mp3]Stir It Up Jam – Capital Centre, Landover, MD, 3/21/1991
This is quintessential Bruuuuuce. In lockstep with Phil, Hornsby leads the band through a festive, uplifting improvisation on Bob Marley’s household tune, which didn’t culminate in anybody taking a crack at the lyrics, but this works better as just a jam anyway.
[audio:https://glidemag.wpengine.com/hiddentrack/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/gd1991-03-21d2t05_64kb.mp3]READ ON for more Early ’90s Grateful Dead Bust Outs…
The Kinks’ Apeman is one of those songs that as a kid always seemed like nothing more than a lighthearted sing-along about gorillas, yet a closer look reveals a heavy-themed
Rare is the album that maintains an unwavering adherence to its sound without even a single song’s departure. In the case of Carl Broemel, the multi-instrumentalist best known as the yin to Jim James’ yang in My Morning Jacket, the debut solo album All Birds Say manages this consistency, despite the fact that the record unfolded over the course of five years.
The album unravels like a relaxing country getaway that requires little more than a porch, a hammock and a breeze. It’s easy to like All Birds Say for its blissful vibe, but it’s equally easy to miss the careful instrumentation, observant lyrics and peace of mind that lay just a layer or two below the surface.
Ryan Dembinsky: So, the burning question is did you actually set out to consciously make an album that’s so consistently mellow and relaxing, perhaps in an effort to differentiate the sound from the band?
Carl Broemel: [laughs] I didn’t really set out with too much intent on it, honestly. Some of the songs I wrote before I even met anyone in the band. I think it’s more just what comes out when I sit down to write or sit down with the guitar by myself. The record just kind of came out mellow, like a late night or early morning state of mind.
RD: It’s quite unique that a lot of the songs are introspective and thoughtful without any preachy feeling baked in. How do you tackle the lyrical part of it?
CB: I think it’s good to leave some space for interpretation. The lyrics for me are the hardest part. Most of the time, that’s the last thing I’ll finish or sign off on. I’ll just kind of start with the guitar melodies or something I keep repeating and repeating in my head. Then I sort of pick out lyrics and mumble things and record it. Then, I’ll listen back to it a few months later, and go, “What am I saying?” Once I get a theme like that, then it’s easy to embellish. I’m still learning how to do it. I actually thought it might seem preachy, because I use the word “you” a lot, so I started trying to write songs that don’t use the word “you.” So, I’m glad you said that.
READ ON for more of Ryan’s chat with Carl Broemel…
After spending years upon years toiling away as a band playing countless shows, traveling thousands of miles, recording various studio projects and building an original catalog, to say it’s a hard decision to change directions, re-brand and move on to something new is like saying it’s hard to beat Mike Tyson in Punch Out: an understatement of the highest order.
After nearly five years, the popular Brooklyn jam/jazz/funk/fusion band, Licorice, decided it was time for a change. Three of the original four members, David Lott (guitar, vocals), Matt Epstein (bass) and Josh Bloom (drums, vocals), plan to stay together in the form of The Whitewalls, but with a new direction, a more song-focused trio and perhaps (gasp) less extended jamming.
Despite the mental struggles that come with debating a name change and a new sonic endeavor: giving up the brand recognition; wondering what to do with the recorded catalog; questioning if the fans will follow; and summoning up the energy to build something new from the ground up, David Lott and The Whitewalls have a reinvigorated spirit and they know they did the right thing. Look no further than Lott’s recent months for proof. He’s already released an E.P. with The Whitewalls, recorded his own solo EP, landed a role as the lone guitarist in an Off-Broadway gig and continued to perform relentlessly.
Ryan Dembinsky: So let’s start with some background; I ran into your lovely wife Emily in Saratoga before the Phish shows and she passed along the news that had Licorice split up, or was at least on hold for the time being. It sounds like the intent is that you are planning to focus on writing for a new band called The Whitewalls as well as on your solo material. So, without digging up dirt, what happened?
David Lott: My wife starting seeing Phish regularly, and so, I had to get out of the jamband race – that’s some stiff competition.
All kidding aside, after nearly 5 years, Licorice had accomplished so much, from our Blue Note extravaganzas to playing with jazz legends as regulars at the Telluride Jazz Festival in Colorado to the stages in NYC like Bowery, Brooklyn Bowl, Blender Theater, The Knit, Sullivan Hall, etc. We had come to a point, a sort of fork in the road, where we wanted to attain the production level, artistic intention, and lyrical value of the bands/artists we were also learning from in addition the bands in the jamband world.
It was not “Licorice” anymore once we made that choice. The intent was different, and so, the name, had to change. Licorice may always exist – it’s like my first child, but I want to have a bigger family now.
READ ON for more of Ryan’s chat with David Lott…
