Seattle Subsonic - January, 2012
Death’s Three Daughters, Waiting Room, Not Through Yet
I gave a reading for my book at the Skylark cafe in December, and afterward, I hung around to talk to those who came out and thank them for coming, perhaps buy a drink or two for a select few. As I was about to leave, I heard a voice, “Hi, Dave.” It was Mia Bigliardi, the drummer for Death’s Three Daughters. I’d seen them once before in February of 2011, and though I liked some of the things they were attempting, I didn’t feel they quite got there. To quote from myself, “Illumination would have to wait.” In the Skylark, though, as I got to talking to Mia and D3D singer/guitarist Jen Stinespring, I realized they read my review of that show and used it as inspiration to strengthen their resolve and hone their musical abilities more, and to tighten their music. They didn’t say, “Fuck you for what you wrote about our band!” They welcomed the criticism and wanted more. “Sorry we missed the reading, we’re playing here tonight. You should stick around, maybe write about our show,” Mia said. It didn’t work out that night as I had other obligations, but through emails and Facebook postings and random Bailey’s-laden encounters in coffee shops on holidays, we found a suitable show that I would attend. They would play again. I would write again.
That show was Saturday, January 14 at Slim’s Last Chance. They were setting up when I arrived, and I noticed the bass player had short, white hair. White? I was expecting Red and so wondered if she was new. I perched myself at the corner of the bar, ordered a Blue Moon, and took out 1Q84 for a little pre-show reading. The bass player came over, “Thanks for coming out.” The face was familiar, same bass player, Jenny Ferrero. She saw me looking at her hair. She smiled, pointed to it, “I cut and colored it. Halloween costume. Tank Girl.”
“Nice. Is that a new bass up there?”
“Yeah, I love it. It has good action.”
“Mind if I play it a little later on?”
“Not at all.” We got to talking about the band, and I discovered they’d done some recording, a live session, 5 songs, one take each. She described it as a learning experience much as Jen and Mia had described some of the band’s critical responses. They all seemed to have the sponge quality in their determination to be a better band. Artists should always strive for such because the moment they don’t, they’re through. It matters not what you’ve done or created, but what you are doing, what you will do. Jenny said the recordings would be available on CD in February. She asked about the HUGE book on the bar and its author. I answered and mentioned one of his books was made into a movie and had its American release this month. She seemed interested so I wrote the name down on a piece of paper.
Norwegian Wood.
“Like the Beatles song.”
“Yeah, Murakami infuses a lot of American and European pop culture into his books. Who’s your favorite band or the band’s favorite band?”
“No question. Pearl Jam.”
“Nice. They’re one of mine too.” Mia came over then.
“Do you like PBR? The drink tickets are only good for PBR. I hate PBR.” A woman after my own heart. And why do bars do that?
“Me too.”
“We have to start. Talk to you after the show.”
So they started, and I was impressed. They were indeed better than the three women I’d seen almost one year ago. They’d become a band. The question, then, was what kind of band that was. I liked the spacey, simple two note opening of “Blood Mountain” and also the heavy building of the ascending chord progression that ends the same song. There’s the U2-like (think old U2) “Waiting Room”, a tune that they later told me was an overwhelming fan favorite. I had to agree. They kept that one pretty straightforward and didn’t clutter it up with unnecessary changes or odd parts. Sometimes a simple song is all the better for it. They stuck to the progression, the melody, the hook, and they didn’t make it heavy and fast for the sake of making it heavy and fast. It was a good song, and judging by the applause, a fan favorite.
There’s the more punk rock, and very short, “54 Roses” which they said was a band favorite for the energy it had. And it did. There was the cool opening bass groove of “Stars & Angels” that I’d like to hear them develop in the manner Jane’s Addiction’s “Summertime Rolls”, just the same bass line all the way through and the great dynamic sweeps of the other instruments. But they didn’t do that. The song suddenly became heavy and more up tempo. It wasn’t bad, but it reminded me of two different songs. I liked them both so it made me think they were still defining for themselves what kind of band they were and wanted to be, and how to write songs as that band.
And that’s a good thing. It means they’re still taking chances, stretching their limits, finding their way. After the show, I got a brief history of the band. I learned they hadn’t even been together for two years and had only played their instruments for just about that same length of time too. That’s not bad. They’re in a good spot of being young, passionate, and in discovery mode, still developing their style as individual musicians and as a group. I’ve heard them compared to Sleater-Kinney, but I like D3D better, and I suppose that’s because of the bass. It gives them something Sleater-Kinney didn’t have. I was glad I’d given them a second chance. As musicians, they’re not through yet, and if they write a few more tunes like “Waiting Room”, they may not be through for quite some time.
Death’s Three Daughters will be playing this Friday at the Skylark Cafe in West Seattle. Tickets are $5.00
The Strangest Tribe: How a Group of Seattle Rock Bands Invented Grunge
Details. Stephen Tow’s book, The Strangest Tribe: How a Group of Seattle Rock Bands Invented Grunge, has a lot of them, and though there’s a mountain of information, it isn’t overwhelming. It’s scholarly but entertaining, interesting and funny; it’s researched to no end but quite relatable for both musicians and music fans.
The book covers Seattle’s pre-grunge years, the late 70′s through 1991, the time when something rose from nothing, when Seattle went from a few underground bands and clubs to all that would break upon the world with Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, and more. I was in the Midwest during those years (Detroit and Columbus, Ohio), and as I got into bands in the late 80′s and early 90′s, we all thought there was a scene. We all thought there was something happening, especially after Seattle broke. Folks in Columbus liked to say in the early 90′s that Columbus was the next Seattle. LMFAO. Really? I guess I even thought such, or at least wanted to believe it, because I was in a band, and I believed in that band, but there was no scene, no sound, no new attitude. There were just a lot of random bands making a lot of random music, and though some of them were quite good, and some were even signed to labels major and minor, nothing ever came of it. No one made it. Nothing happened.
But it happened here in Seattle. A community developed, and then a sound, or perhaps attitude, or as Tow puts it, “grunge was more an approach to playing than an actual style of music”, and The Strangest Tribe captures the smallest details of how that happened. There were bands and bands and bands that contributed something but never made it. The Fags. The U-Men, The Young Fresh Fellows and so many more, and all these years later, they have much to say, of course. When you’re in the thick of it, and then a new kid comes along, and then the new kid makes it big while you’re still playing whatever little bars you can, you have something to say. You have an opinion. You have the feeling of being part of something that made it all possible, that “I was there at the beginning” kind of feeling.
And like I said, it’s relatable, Tow spoke to many musicians, and anyone who has ever played in a rock band can relate to things like what Leighton Beezer from the Thrown Ups said, “I remember my budget was $400 a month: $80 for rent, $50 a week for food, and the rest went for beer. It was not a bad life.” I can relate to that life from my own time as a struggling musician, but what I never felt was that kind of burgeoning scene of musicians living together, bonding, supporting each other, creating music in a scene that was all about just that, the music, not the stardom. Tow writes about how the grunge attitude and sound were dying locally and how Nirvana’s success saved it and propelled it out into the world, largely against the wishes of one Kurt Cobain. He mentions the local backlash against Pearl Jam for wanting to be successful. Beezer confirms that, says he ridiculed them back in 1991 and 1992, but he came around, understands how the scene that made Nirvana, that enabled them, did the same for Pearl Jam. He and the other Seattle musicians and bands from that time know they played a part but don’t overstate it. No one in the book takes credit for the artists that came later. They just say, “I was there. I did this. Then this happened, and it was cool!”
And it was.
And all the details are there, the prequel, if you will. And reading it the way Mr. Tow writes about it, I almost feel like I was there drinking a beer with Beezer as Nirvana exploded. And that’s to Tow’s credit. There’s a ton of detail, but it never loses focus, never gets bogged down. He has an instinct for that which really matters to the story and writes it in a memorable way, almost nostalgic even tough he wasn’t there. When I met Tow at his book signing at the Feedback Lounge last October, we signed and exchanged books, had a couple beers and talked about the time and effort of writing, how we both observed the scene from afar back in those days, how we loved Nirvana and Pearl Jam then (no backlash back east), how we both wished we could have been here in those days. It must have been exciting for both musician and music fan, and after reading his book, it makes me wish he’d write the next part of the story, the sequel, the explosion. I want his take on the moment the world stood up and listened to Seattle.
Get The Strangest Tribe on Amazon
or Get a signed copy of The Strangest Tribe
P.A. Mathison at Alki Arts, Music and Painting, Whiskey and Wine
| Thursday, January 12, 2012 | ||
| 6:00 pm | to | 9:00 pm |
Like many musicians, P.A. Mathison of Sightseer has other artistic outlets. Sometimes, one form of expression just isn’t enough, so when not playing music, she paints in the abstract. Actually, she painted first and wound up in music later in life when she heard a band rehearse “Man in the Box” one too many times, heard the singer fumble notes and melody one too many times, and she said to herself, “I can do way better than that.” I’ve seen Sightseer a number of times, even filled in on bass for one gig, and I can assure you, she was right.
She paints rather well, too, and as luck would have it, both skills will be on display this Thursday over at Alki Arts. Mathison partners with Jessica Apodaca (both in the picture below) at the Lushworks art studio (got to love the name) and will have some wine inspired paintings on display. To quote from Mathison, “What makes [these paintings] unique is that each painting comes from two different perspectives, because we each get our hands on ‘em at some point. Sometimes at the the same time! So it truly is a collaborative effort.” Along with the paintings, Sightseer will perform an acoustic set on the opening night of the 12th. The band has a new CD coming out next month. I’ve heard it, and simply put, it’s excellent. It’s a blend of alt-country rock with a double shot of Makers, neat. They’re one of my local favorites, and hopefully, 2012 will finally see them get some much deserved success.
Also performing will be Hurricane Chaser and special guest Debbie Miller.
Wine will be House Wine
Facebook event for January 12 opening 6:00 – 9:00: Lushworks at Alki Arts
P.A. Mathison at Alki Arts, Music and Painting, Whiskey and Wine
Like many musicians, P.A. Mathison of Sightseer has other artistic outlets. Sometimes, one form of expression just isn’t enough, so when not playing music, she paints in the abstract. Actually, she painted first and wound up in music later in life when she heard a band rehearse “Man in the Box” one too many times, heard the singer fumble notes and melody one too many times, and she said to herself, “I can do way better than that.” I’ve seen Sightseer a number of times, even filled in on bass for one gig, and I can assure you, she was right.
She paints rather well, too, and as luck would have it, both skills will be on display this Thursday over at Alki Arts. Mathison partners with Jessica Apodaca (both in the picture below) at the Lushworks art studio (got to love the name) and will have some wine inspired paintings on display. To quote from Mathison, “What makes [these paintings] unique is that each painting comes from two different perspectives, because we each get our hands on ‘em at some point. Sometimes at the the same time! So it truly is a collaborative effort.” Along with the paintings, Sightseer will perform an acoustic set on the opening night of the 12th. The band has a new CD coming out next month. I’ve heard it, and simply put, it’s excellent. It’s a blend of alt-country rock with a double shot of Makers, neat. They’re one of my local favorites, and hopefully, 2012 will finally see them get some much deserved success.
Also performing will be Hurricane Chaser and special guest Debbie Miller.
Wine will be House Wine
Facebook event for January 12 opening 6:00 – 9:00: Lushworks at Alki Arts
Mike McCready with Shadow, Star Anna, Duff McKagan, and No Chris Cornell
The Tractor was filling up early. I’d figured it would sell out given the bill and so wanted to find myself a good spot early on to set down my beer and my notebook, plant myself somewhere so I could write without being jostled by a sellout crowd. At the Tractor, there is a row of seats to the left of the stage, and I noticed two were saved with signs that read “Reserved for Friel” so I camped there standing next to the seats and thinking I knew who would be sitting in them later. By 8:30, the place was nearly full, and why not? Shadow was playing.
Before there was Pearl Jam, you see, there was Shadow, Mike McCready’s first band. In the early 80′s, they played a brand of Seattle metal inspired less by punk and more by Kiss, Angel City, and TKO. After friend Duff McKagan moved to LA and had a measure of success, Shadow followed suit and headed south in 1986, but they didn’t fare as well. When they played the Roxy, they had to pay $700, and though McKagan showed up, few others did. So they eventually made their way back to Seattle, back to their old practice space in Mrs. Friel’s house (She’s the mother of drummer Chris and bassist Rick), but the neighbors complained this time, and by 1988, they broke up.
They reunited last week in Seattle though. They organized a show to benefit Carbon Roots International, and when I heard about it, my first thought was that it was very cool a guy like McCready still knows his old band mates, still hangs with them, still jams with them. How cool it must be for everyone involved to have the opportunity to play the old songs again, and for fans old and new to see someone from the likes of Pearl Jam step on the small stage of the Tractor. Chris Friel was kind enough to get me and photographer Stacy Albright (see the new Chris Cornell album cover) on the guest list, and when the 27th rolled around, I found myself at the Tractor at 8:30 next to those reserved seats that were now occupied by Mrs. Friel and Kim Virant, Chris’ wife.
As I’d suspected, Star Anna was one of the special guests, but first McCready played a few songs on his own. He played a TKO song and “Too Far Gone” by Neil Young. He said, “My band, minus the singer, did a tour with Neil Young.” He didn’t say Pearl Jam, he said rather, “My band“, and it struck me to hear such a casual reference to a globally known group. When I got another beer at the bar, I noticed Duff McKagan in line behind me, and I thought it cool that he would come out to see Shadow all these years later after that Roxy show. Star Anna stepped onto the stage then and played one of her songs and a beautiful acoustic cover of “Call Your Girlfriend” and apologized for not knowing the dance moves. As always, her voice was amazing. If you haven’t heard her with the Laughing Dogs, you need to. Then McCready said, “We have one more special guest,” and Duff McKagan stepped onto the stage, and they played Johnny Thunders “Can’t Put Your Arms Around a Memory”. The song paused at one point for some sing along instructions and eventually drifted in to G-n-R’s “Patience” with McKagan calling out a couple chord changes (“F … G”) for McCready. See the video below. It was a cool moment, the kind looked for on such evenings.
When Shadow took the stage, Rick Friel called out to his mom, “Hi, mom.” She was pleased. McCready pointed out the Shadow banner on the wall and thanked the woman who made it over two decades ago, an artist named Suzy Hutchinson. Mrs. Friel then told me the band had been at her house on Christmas Eve, and with the show looming, they’d fished the banner out of a box in the basement, and McCready said, “We have to get this thing in the Tractor.” That was another cool thing. McCready was with these guys Christmas Eve. Their friendships had indeed lasted all these years, perhaps even grown stronger, and here they were finally on stage again.
Their first song, “Shadow”, reminded me of old Iron Maiden stuff. I don’t know if they’d list Maiden as an influence, but it was there, and it was good. I was hooked. Iron Maiden was the second band I ever saw, and I knew if I’d heard Shadow back in the 80′s, I would have liked them. The set continued with a good stream of rocking numbers, fun stuff, Kiss-like sometimes, another Maiden moment. One time I wrote, “reminds me of Kingston Wall” but these guys pre-dated Kingston Wall so maybe it was the other way around. Still, Shadow were themselves. Their sound would not have been something new back in the 80′s, but it was them. It was Shadow, and music doesn’t have to be groundbreaking to be good. It just has to have a bit of the essence of life, some energy, some force. It did. I liked them. I sang along, “Don’t … count the tears” to what McCready later said was their one hit “…at least it was in our minds.” Laughs from the audience.
There were times when guitarist Danny Newcombe would be soloing with McCready playing rhythm, but they held each other’s gaze with expressions that said, “Yeah, this is FUN!” Again, how cool it must be for these guys to reunite all these years later, to step on stage playing songs they thought would never again see the light of day, to have people like Duff McKagan and Star Anna and many other notable Seattle musicians in the audience, to have sold out the Tractor. I asked Kim Virant how Chris felt about the opportunity. “Out of his mind with joy.” I know the feeling. I did a reunion show once back in Detroit with an old band of mine, and that had only been two years after breaking up, and no one had any shred of fame, but still, we gathered for a benefit, and we cut loose, we ripped it. The old fans came out in droves. There’s nothing better.
Before one song, McCready told the story of how Chris Cornell had once auditoned for Shadow and been rejected. Chris Cornell rejected. Said McCready, “Oops!” My how that might have changed the landscape of things had Cornell joined Shadow. And Cornell remembered it later when Temple of the Dog was recording, “Man I wasn’t sure what to think about you since you were one of those Shadow guys.” They’re friends now, but I can’t help but wonder what music we might have heard if McCready and Cornell had teamed up, if Pearl Jam and Soundgarden had never been. You never can tell which way things will go, if that person you meet and reject today might someday do something spectacular. In an odd way, it’s good that the stars just weren’t aligned for Shadow to make it big back then. We got Pearl Jam instead, and Soundgarden. And all these years later, we got Shadow once again. And the audience loved it.
After the show, the band hung out with the crowd. There we lots of introductions and photos and talk of music. They’d played a song (“No Secrets”) by Australian band, Angel City, and I mentioned that I’d thought for years that I was the only one in America who knew anything about Angel City, that I have two of their records, that “Fashion and Fame” was one of the first songs I taught myself how to play on the guitar. The response collectively from Shadow was pretty much, “We love those guys.” And Mike McCready was quite approachable, saying hi, shaking hands, giving thanks to the fans, and posing for pictures. It’s what you hear about the guys in Pearl Jam all the time. Good people. The same goes for the guys in Shadow, and I even got a kiss on the cheek from Chris.
When I asked Rick Friel if they had any recorded material I could have to listen to while writing, he told me that there were only a few casettes, and unfortunately, none could be lent. He also told me that there was some talk of releasing something on Pearl Jam’s Monkey Wrench label. Again, how cool is that? All these years later we might get some Shadow recordings. So who knows? Maybe they will finally make it big after all.
Photos by Stacy Albright. Lots More Images: Shadow || More of Shadow
Video by Mike Savoia
Mike McCready and Duff McKagan video:
Shadow video:
