Category: Music (page 1 of 2)

August 10, 2021

Film Review: CODA

CODA generated both industry buzz and impossible expectations coming out of this year’s virtual Sundance Film Festival. An acronym for “child of deaf adults”, CODA is the first entry to ever win the Directing Award, Audience Award, and Grand Jury Prize — as well as a Special Jury Prize for Best Ensemble. Netflix and Amazon were both eager to acquire the rights to the film, but Apple Studios ultimately prevailed, premiering in theaters and on their signature streaming service August 13. It is the first theatrical release to have burned-in subtitles, making it accessible to hearing-impaired audiences everywhere without the need for special glasses and supporting projection technology.

Writer-director Siân Heder’s adaptation of the French film La Famille Bélier feels entirely original, despite some familiar themes for a coming-of-age story. Actress Emilia Jones plays Ruby, the only hearing member of a deaf family from the modest fishing town of Gloucester. Rising hours before dawn to work aboard her family’s tiny fishing trawler, she returns exhausted to endure the anxieties and drudgeries of high school. But what secretly stirs her soul is singing, a guilty pleasure she embraces, belting out Etta James with abandon into the vast ocean knowing no one can hear her.

Though this setup sounds like a cacophony of cliches and trite archetypes, Heder’s taut screenplay and directorial restraint somehow make CODA feel surprisingly fresh and inspired. The visual style, from the deft composition of each shot to the deliberate color palettes, highlight an artist’s attention to detail and reflect the quaint serenity of her native Massachusetts. Scenes that could easily descend into predictable dialogue between parent and child about following your heart instead create greater distance as familial obligations seem destined to undermine Ruby’s unappreciated gift. Though there are echoes of Running on Empty and Goodwill Hunting, the plot and its constituent parts never feel overly contrived or overtly derivative. Comparisons are somewhat inevitable, so if you’re going to have them anyway, likening a film to the work of Sidney Lumet or Gus Van Sant is high praise.

Performances from Marlee Matlin and Troy Kotsur as Ruby’s parents, and Daniel Durant as her older brother, are complex, clever, and captivating. With extended conversations exclusively in American Sign Language, audiences who feel overwhelmed following their facial expressions, animated gestures, and fast-paced subtitles will gain a small glimpse of the challenge of having to listen with only your eyes. In a particularly pivotal scene, Heder drops the audio out entirely, an immersive and emotional reveal that will likely leave audiences silent as well. Eugenio Derbez’s performance as Ruby’s choir teacher and mentor adds necessary levity, yet still amplifies the urgency of her looming choice to leave her family or abandon her dream.

However, Jones’ poignant portrayal is so subtle and sincere, it does what few performances from relative newcomers, or even seasoned screen veterans, tend to do. It genuinely suspends disbelief. Not only is her performance as the family’s de facto interpreter completely credible, her vocal abilities capture the raw joy of singing for someone who doesn’t realize she can really sing. Point of fact, Jones had to learn to sign and to sing for her role, making the authenticity of both all the more remarkable. But Ruby’s story is actually two stories, and that may be where CODA succeeds and shines most. Just as the awkward teen begins to consider a future beyond the deck of her family’s struggling fishing boat, the unlikely opportunity to audition for Berklee College of Music starts to slip away. Though she is in many ways isolated from her family by her ability to hear, she is simultaneously the sole connection they have to their community, one where they’ve only recently become less alienated after organizing a fishing co-op to help their neighbors fetch fair prices for their collective catch.

Without spoiling the ending, Ruby’s mutually exclusive worlds converge in a climatic closing song that illustrates why Apple was willing to write a check for $25 million without blinking, the highest amount ever paid for a Sundance film.

Though it’s a film rooted in universal family dynamics, there are some scenes that are probably too racy in subject matter for younger audiences. That said, CODA is sentimental without apologies, alternating between laughs and tears through a natural narrative that is thought-provoking without becoming preachy or political. Though this is likely the first exposure many will have to writer-director Siân Heder and actress Emilia Jones, it surely won’t be the last. ▩

CODA premieres in theaters and on Apple TV+ on August 13.

October 29, 2020

Monster Mashup

Originally published in COLUMBUS ALIVE

Ask any band what frightens them most at the moment and it’s probably the prospect of empty stages with no end in sight. It even scares the members of Mummula, whose spooky shtick should be selling out gigs right now instead of lingering in the shadows.

“With all the uncertainty with the virus, it became a question beyond whether venues were going to be open and more about if they would be safe for the people we care about,” confessed Eric von Goosebump. “We don’t want to have our fans, friends, and family come see us and then get sick. I think we collectively decided let’s just play it safe and kind of tap out for a while.”

With all the grit of a garage band, the members of Mummula perform horror-inspired hits and credible covers dressed in matching black capes and bandaged heads. Loyal fans are already in on the gag, but the uninitiated are often left wondering whether these four guys are for real or just a ghoulish gimmick intended to hide a bunch of retro rock wannabes.

“People are genuinely surprised when they listen to us because we do a really nice punk show, but we have some garage rock elements in there as well as the surf instrumentals which really resonate when it all comes together,” explained Mark Hovthevampyre. “It’s like a full-package, variety, Scooby-Doo kind of show singing about monsters and aliens.”

Mummula is very real, and any doubts are settled as soon as they take the stage, hitting predictable power chords at a break-neck beat with catchy tunes like “My Baby’s Turnin’ into a Wolfman” and “Ed Wouldn’t”. Every song is unexpected, with members trading traditional instruments and vocals, and the occasional cameo from a keytar or kazoo. They even have their own fan club cleverly called The Wrap, keeping their growing legion of followers hip to their happenings throughout the Midwest, even as the pandemic persists.

From traditional club gigs to tiny charity performances, Mummula defies description or easy categorization. They’re surf meets snark, punk meets parody — as if Dick Dale founded Devo, or Joey Ramone and Weird Al conspired to create the genetic lovechild of Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi.

Sadly, several annual events were cancelled or delayed indefinitely this year, like the local Fraternal Order of Moai’s Hula Hop and Point Pleasant, West Virginia’s Mothman Festival. In fact, Mummula’s last show before everything wound down was the Horror Prom at Spacebar, a Valentine’s Day “paranormal formal” for ghoulishly attired couples. It was an unintentionally ominous milestone just as the thin line between dark fantasy and harsh reality was about to blur.

As if their signature swag and pseudonyms don’t give it away, there’s obviously some deft design and branding expertise among the members, more than a subtle hint to their day gigs. Like most bands, moving music and merchandise online instead of at shows has become the standard, but they’re also spreading some goodwill as the chill of fall settles over Ohio. The band launched Mummula face masks earlier this year with all proceeds going to the United Way Worldwide’s COVID-19 Community Response and Recovery Fund, and an upcoming release to benefit the Movember Foundation next month builds on a prior EP to raise funds for the men’s health initiative.

“One gig that stands out for me was when we played HorrorHound Weekend several years ago. The crowd was huge. That was probably our biggest show so far, so it was kind of terrifying,” recalled El Santos. “But we were in our element, connecting with a bunch of horror fans, and we got to end the day with a lot of bigger bands in the horror punk scene.”

There is indeed a “horror punk scene”, but hardly obscure or recent. Though Mummula’s origin technically grew out a running monster mashup gag among the founding members during a road trip to a horror convention, the story actually goes back to the late 80s. The Canadian band Forbidden Dimension so captured their imagination, when Mummula eventually released their debut album in 2016, they asked the lead singer (and fellow graphic designer) to create the cover. The relationship came full circle when both groups shared the same stage in Nashville, illustrating the unique genre’s ability to connect fans and bands despite the distance and decades between them.

“Mummula hits all of these different communities — people who love surf, people who love punk, people who love monsters,” noted Kevbot 2. “I think that’s the thing I miss most, when you go to a show and you play for someone who hasn’t seen Mummula and they dig it, they’re surprised, and it completely makes their night.” ▩

For more on Mummula, visit them on Facebook and Bandcamp.

July 24, 2020

Sexy Supper Club

Originally published in (614) Magazine’s digital daily, 614NOW

Restaurant openings have become rare recently, and nightclubs are almost an afterthought. Which is precisely why Ivan Kane’s Forty Deuce deserves your undivided attention, even if a little striptease wasn’t on the menu.

“We’ve adapted our burlesque show to more of a supper club, to keep everyone comfortable and safe. We’ll still have our live trio and performances, but it will be a little more exclusive to ensure social distancing,” explained Ivan Kane, whose previous ventures in Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and Atlantic City helped put corsets, fishnets, and risqué routines back into the mainstream. “It’s really not a compromise. It’s just a different experience.”

You’ll still find red velvet seating in an intimate setting, but with a deliberate attention to the practical realities of operating during a pandemic. Discrete cleaning during club hours and ultraviolet lighting after the doors close are among the added measures Kane demanded before he was ready to open the latest addition to Easton Town Center.

Shows are also limited to just 55 patrons spread across the club with inclusive pricing for drinks, dinner, and dessert—currently craft cocktails, bottle service, a selection of signature items from the café downstairs that is the counterpart to the club, well-hidden behind a freezer door at the back of the kitchen. Evenings offer two shows during the week, with a later cocktails-only show on the weekends.

“Forty Deuce is actually one of the safest rooms in the city because of these extra precautions we’ve taken,” he noted. “It’s a challenging time for everyone right now, and I hope we can provide a little respite from all the pressure.”

Performers Michelle Mejia and Tori Kent recently relocated to Columbus after auditioning in Los Angeles earlier this year. Both were already professional dancers, having worked with recording artists from Iggy Azalea to Janet Jackson. But the allure of burlesque and the chance to be part of something new drew both to Forty Deuce.

“People seem to think burlesque is another form of stripping. But it’s a performance with a live band and extravagant costumes,” Mejia explained. “We tease, but don’t take it all off, and that’s what makes the dance exhilarating, for us and the audience.”

Forty Deuce feels more industrial than the average nightclub, and distinct from the diner motif of the café below. But the design is intentional with bar tops and banquets connected by catwalks that turn the entire establishment into a stage. Pipes become props for inverted performances and an inconspicuous zipline carries dancers over patrons heads.

“I also have a background in gymnastics and Taekwondo, but this is actually my first experience with burlesque,” revealed Kent. “There are a lot of jumps and splits, and hanging upside down in our performances, so it still intertwines with that training.”

Columbus may not seem like the obvious city to open a sexy supper club. But May would have marked the return of the Midwest Burlesque and Rockabilly Weekend if not for COVID cancellations—and the Ohio Burlesque Festival in Cleveland, was forced to push their annual event from August to October. Our speakeasy scene is hardly a secret either, with basements and back rooms hosting bootlegger-inspired bars that are legal, but still mostly known only to the locals.

“I hadn’t thought about the Midwest to be perfectly honest, but it wasn’t a hard sell,” Kane confessed. “Once I saw what an incredibly sophisticated, diverse demographic is here, how vibrant and forward-thinking the city is, it was a no-brainer.”

Kane is somewhat notorious as a hands-on operator, and Forty Deuce is his passion project. His wife, better known by her stage name Champagne Suzy, deserves a degree of credit for the burlesque revival. Both will likely become more familiar faces around town having procured a place in the Short North, while still splitting time managing venues elsewhere.

“I don’t develop projects and move on. I’m on the floor involved in the choreography, the costumes, the lighting, the menu. So it’s imperative to be here,” Kane noted. “Los Angeles, Las Vegas, and Atlantic City are sexy. But Columbus was hands down the best decision I ever made in terms of viability, in terms of the community. I just love it.” ▩

Additional details on dining, showtimes, and tickets at fortydeuce.com

June 1, 2020

Special Delivery

Originally published in the June 2020 issue of (614) Magazine

It isn’t easy to outhustle Amazon. The point-and-click purveyor of everything certainly hasn’t been hurt by the current pandemic. It may be the only business immune to it.

Meanwhile, small shops struggle to survive until they can reopen their doors. For many, the shift to direct delivery was born of necessity. With taprooms closed, local breweries were among the first to offer to-you-door service. But they aren’t the only ones rapidly reinventing the way they reach customers outside their retail space.

Spoonful Records | spoonful-records.myshopify.com

The beloved local record shop never needed a robust internet presence, pushing off the prospect of online expansion for years. They assured patrons the reason their selection was so exhaustive was because you had to come into the store to shop. Unlike digital downloads, records aren’t really commodities. Condition matters and trusted curators who inspect and clean each album by hand are even more rare than some of their elusive inventory.

“We stayed open by appointment for about a week, while I worked on the website, which was finished the same day the governor shut everything down,” explained Amy Kesting, who owns and operates the bustling album emporium with her husband Brett Ruland. “I think there were only 20 items, but every day we add a few more things. Our customers know they can have the same confidence buying from us, even online.”

Kesting isn’t an amateur when it comes to the logistical challenges of online sales. Though Ruland focuses on trends and follows new vinyl releases, Kesting concentrates on collections, acquiring the balance of classic and obscure albums that define Spoonful Records. A dot-com era stint processing artwork damaged during shipping also gave her more than a little apprehension about the prospects of making such fragile merchandise mail-order only.

“From the get-go we had to figure out the right shipping price. A box cost $1.50—a good box, not the single-fold ones—and most media mail is like $3.50 to $4.50. So we’re charging $5.85 for shipping, and if it was close by, we just started delivering them ourselves,” she explained. “I was like, I can drop this off in Bexley, or go to Upper Arlington today. No problem.”

Local deliveries started by bicycle, but soon moved to excursions outside 270. They hired a driver to ensure same day deliveries when possible, but they still make extended record road trips themselves.

“We let everyone know on Facebook when we’ll be in their area, and they can just add to the order. One day, we went to Marysville, Delaware, and Powell and made a huge trip of it, like 15 deliveries,” Kesting recalled. “It rained the whole time, but was totally worthwhile. It was kind of like couples time, listening to music together along the way.”

Early enthusiasm has helped offset uncertainties about the future, particularly Record Store Day, the industry’s most notable annual event, already delayed twice. The retail closure has also afforded the opportunity to sort through a couple of recently acquired collections, not that Spoonful Records isn’t busy.

“We try to be humble and realistic, but April was our best month in at least the last two or three years that wasn’t a Record Store Day month or holiday sales month,” she noted. “We actually did more in sales through the website than we do normally in our brick and mortar. We’re so grateful everyone has been willing to support us through this, we wish we did it sooner.

Roll Bicycle Company | rollbicycles.com

Launching a new location in the midst of a crisis may seem risky, but Roll is hardly a traditional retailer, offering the expertise absent from typical online sales experiences. With three Central Ohio locations and a fourth already scheduled to open, shifting gears was essential to meeting the needs of customers in an entirely new way through curbside service and at-home pickup and delivery.

“We made the decision right from the outset to close our showrooms to the public out of an abundance of caution for the safety of our team and the community. It was a values-based decision for us,” revealed Stuart Hunter, founder and CEO of Roll Bicycle Company. “But that allowed us to quickly move to determining how to continue to best serve our team and our community while preserving our business.”

The closure of gyms coupled with the inherent social distancing of outdoor activities actually increased interest in cycling for fitness and riding for recreation. It was a surge that came the right time for Roll, which was already preparing for the beginning of their busy season.

“At the time, no one anticipated a boom of people wanting to get outside and exercise. People were still reeling from the implications of what was happening and there was a lot of concern about whether we’d actually have a business coming out of the other end of this,” he confessed. “So we launched a brand new web platform within a space of four days from start to finish where we took our entire inventory online.”

There was never a debate about whether bike shops were considered essential. Much like auto mechanics, selling and servicing bikes was a business that helped maintain transportation. But meeting customers at the door instead of inside and creating a pickup and delivery service from scratch were all unfamiliar terrain.

“Another challenge that was unanticipated was just how much strain the change would take on our team, just the speed of adapting so quickly. Everyone was working really hard, but we were also burning out really fast,” Hunter recalled. “So we decided to close our stores briefly and give everyone a paid break to just go home, ride a bike, and take a pause before we came back.”

Roll’s new Dublin store opened alongside existing locations in Bexley, Westerville, and Upper Arlington, but with new safety standards still in place. Though shortages have hit many retailers, regardless of industry, Roll’s evolution three years ago as a manufacturer of their own branded bicycles also helped smooth out supply chain disruptions of their signature product line.

“Like any small business, there was an incredible amount of anxiety about our ability to survive. I was wondering whether the past 15 years of my life were coming to a close. We are fortunate enough to be in a category that has high demand,” he noted. “But we fully recognize not all of our peers in the entrepreneurial community are in the same situation. I look around and see great people having a hard time right now, and I’ve been really pleased to see how the community has rallied around local businesses we hope will return and thrive again soon.” ▩

June 1, 2020

The Parlor

Originally published in the June 2020 issue of (614) Magazine

When The Parlor celebrated its first anniversary earlier this year, it came and went without much fanfare. After all, you can’t risk raising a ruckus over the concert venue equivalent of a speakeasy. Now, the quietly-promoted proof of concept may offer an unintended road map for the future of live music.

“We had the whole season booked, so when the situation quickly started progressing toward cancellations, I was calling the health department every day. Based on their advice, we stayed open until the restaurant ban hit,” explained the host of The Parlor, who prefers to maintain the same secrecy as his clandestine concert series. (Anyone who has received one of his cryptic messages or been to a show simply knows him as “The Man in the Black Hat”.) “We couldn’t quite tell what was happening or what was coming. Even though we’re not a restaurant, we decided to follow those protocols for the safety of our audience.”

For the uninitiated, The Parlor isn’t invitation only, but it is somewhat exclusive. Intrigued would-be attendees are vetted before they’re offered tickets to shows barely publicized beyond the close-knit community of recurring concert goers. Imagine the intimacy of a house show, but not knowing the address until an hour before the band takes the stage. That’s The Parlor. But it’s also not a clique. The audiences are as unassuming as they are anonymous, strangers in the same secret society who actually sign the stage to seal their pledge of silence.

From perennial favorites like The Floorwalkers, Mojoflo, and Willie Phoenix to notable locals like Josh Krajcik and Chris Jamison, The Parlor creates interaction often absent from the concert experience, and offers artists compensation from ticket sales more commensurate with their talent.

With restaurants reopening, but most live music events on hold, The Parlor is ready to parlay their unique niche, rescheduling events and forging new formats that still meet strict guidelines for social distancing. Stadium shows and lawn seats are still a long way off, but small and simple gets artists back on the stage in short order.

“We’ve been trying to get in touch with national acts who may have cancelled tours through Ohio and pair them with local artists in a house show format,” he revealed. “But there are also local artists who need gigs now. So we’ve been ramping up to do different types of experiences than we’ve done before, featuring pairings with local restaurants.”

Plenty of musicians are reinventing their relationship with fans, hosting Facebook concerts from home, hoping to make enough in online tips and selling a little merch to hold on until the industry figures out what’s next. But any degree of real recovery could be months away, maybe more. Arena shows have additional obstacles, leading some to worry whether they’ll return at all, or if the venues themselves long survive.

“I’ve been considering guarantees versus percentages of sales and how to structure those arrangements. But at the end of the day, I think there’s a great opportunity to continue to pay artists really well, just like we always have,” he opined. “Honestly, I hope promoters in town who currently can’t work with traditional venues reach out, because house concerts could really emerge right now as a way to make gigs happen.”

That’s the edge The Parlor has over typical venues. Now those smaller audiences seem safer and the larger cut of ticket sales sound even more appealing to performers. But that’s also why everyone from concert halls to the club circuit have been quietly conspiring to shut down house shows and their organizers for years — and why the man in the black hat is just fine remaining under the radar.

“I think the hardest part for me is the empathy I have for the artists. When the national unemployment rate was passing 15 percent, the unemployment rate for full-time performers was nearly 99 percent because there was no place to play,” he noted. “I’ve been staying in touch with them just to make sure they’re okay. Some have decided to retire, or take corporate jobs. Others are taking time off hoping things will go back to normal in a couple of months and are just trying to get by.”

One of the only entertainment venues prepared for a sudden comeback are drive-in movie theaters. Outdoor screens from coast to coast have seen a steady increase in interest, and with patrons parked in the confines of their cars, social distancing is in force by default. The Parlor’s latest venture launching this month hopes to tap into that same nostalgic experience.

“The Hidden Drive-In is the first departure from our established format, and will feature live concert performances and modern and classic films on a 30-foot display at an undisclosed location in Downtown Columbus”, he explained. “We want to create socially-distanced events our audience can still enjoy together.”

A launch and a fundraiser, the Hidden Drive-In is scheduled to premiere June 12 and 13, with two shows each evening. Tickets are priced for both bikes and cars, with the added bonus of fresh barbecue served on-site. It’s dinner and a movie unlike anywhere else. But it’s also the less conspicuous launch of an entirely new audio platform The Parlor plans to incorporate into future events, offering a fidelity unrivaled by typical FM transmitters or standard concert technology. True to form, the exact origins and specifications of the audio setup are also a tightly kept secret.

“We knew 80 tickets would cover our initial costs, and spread across four shows, it allows us to spread our audience out as well,” he revealed. “We also knew which space in Columbus we really wanted to present this first, and there are multiple prospects and partnerships where we could present in the future. We expect this to be a magical experience that will help us make decisions on where to host additional events beyond the Hidden Drive-In.” ▩

For details on upcoming performances, including the Hidden Drive-In, visit The Parlor on Facebook.

June 1, 2020

Sound of Silence

Originally published in the June 2020 issue of (614) Magazine

Columbus has always been a creative crossroads, an intersection of ideas. When Troy Stacy opened his unlikely convergence of a record shop, impromptu studio, and craft beer counter, it already seemed like too much to squeeze under one roof.

Yet in less than two years, the long-shuttered hardware store in Grandview has also become a credible concert venue for up-and-coming artists, added an expanded menu of musically-inspired paninis, and even published a book to parallel their famous pairings of classic albums with beers that best suit them. Call it foresight or fate, the inclusive name Craft & Vinyl seems more apropos with each new endeavor.

“The initial idea was to bring together vinyl collectors, music makers, and craft beer lovers, but we didn’t really anticipate bands knocking on the door and asking if they could play gigs here,” revealed Stacy. “The fact that someone would walk into our little space and want to bring their energy and creativity to our environment, I certainly invited it, but it took us a couple of months before we had the opportunity to build the stage, sound, and lighting they deserved.”

Emerging acts often struggle to book shows unless they know the right folks or have members connected to groups that are already established. The gap between garage gigs and even a basement bar can be daunting, especially for those focused exclusively on their own songs.

“It’s really challenging to get those first gigs, even more challenging if an artist or band is all about original music. That’s something that I love, music I’ve never heard before,” he explained. “There are a lot of great bands in our community who can bang out a cover and nail it. But I wanted to invite artists into this space and give them a platform to share music no one knows, an opportunity to engage audiences with something new.”

That enviable momentum came to a screeching halt in mid March, and like every small business, essential or otherwise, the labyrinth of government programs offered more dashed hopes than promised relief. Like most folks in the music scene, his passion was preceded by a less glamorous gig, in his case the insurance industry. So when Stacy started his business in 2018, his insights for finding the right coverage were formidable, and the fight now looming with his insurance company could impact small businesses across the country also trying to recover.

“We reached out to our insurer, Cincinnati Insurance, and our policy is in good standing. I have always paid my premiums,” Stacy stated, noting his coverage specifically includes losses incurred due to “prohibited access to the premises by civil authority”. “In fact days after they denied my claim, they sent me another premium notice. ‘Hey, don’t forget to pay your bill, dude.’ I felt betrayed.”

Point of fact, most commercial policies specifically exclude pandemics for a reason. More than a decade ago in the wake of the SARS epidemic, the industry lobbied Congress about the threat such losses could pose, crafting language to prevent claims during a crisis just like the one businesses face right now amid mandatory closures.

“My attorney said first of all, right off the riff, we know this is going to impact more than a hundred businesses. We anticipate it’s going to affect thousands nationally, and we filed it in federal court,” he explained. “If the case proceeds as a class action, Cincinnati Insurance will have to open up their books to the courts and disclose every single policy holder that has a policy like mine.”

Stacy is hardly alone in this fight. Even before seeking legal representation, he reviewed his policy’s fine print with former colleagues still in the insurance industry. The lack of exclusionary language seems to be an oversight, but a costly one that could serve as a legal precedent. Cincinnati Insurance Company covers numerous notable businesses in Ohio, but similar suits, raised mostly by restaurants, are also advancing in Louisiana and California. Wolfgang Puck is probably the most famous plaintiff so far, and even the White House has weighed in that if policies failed to exclude pandemics, then claims should be covered.

“The denial letter had things in it that I never even discussed or claimed. That’s when I knew they were putting me off, putting all claimants off, as they try to figure out what to do because they didn’t write their policies properly,” Stacy revealed. “They’re still out there taking money. I’m not sure what’s going to come of this, and I hope other businesses with policies like mine join the class action. At least now, Cincinnati Insurance knows my name, and I’m not alone.”

Legal maneuvering and loss of business aside, what bothers Stacy most is still the loss of community. Local bands aren’t the only beneficiaries of his small stage. Students from Capital University Conservatory of Music and Groove U present their capstone projects there, and School of Rock uses their space for recitals. He even offers studio time to students who wouldn’t be able to afford it otherwise. Craft & Vinyl is committed to inspiring the next generation of musicians, now entering an industry where the future remains very uncertain.

“We’ve built a Facebook following, but it’s never been about making money as much as keeping customers engaged. It helps promote bands, and new music, and events like PickTown Palooza or our partnership with PromoWest that don’t necessarily happen at Craft & Vinyl, but exist in our universe,” he noted. “It keeps us connected, but it’s not the same. I miss the bands on my stage, the conversations at the bar. I miss the music, but I miss the people most. We all do, and we can’t wait to see each other again.” ▩

For more on Craft & VinyI, and to reserve your copy of Pour and Play, visit craft-n-vinyl.com

May 1, 2020

Sgt. Peppercorn’s Pandemic Marathon

Originally published in the May 2020 issue of (614) Magazine

Musicians have been hit hard lately. Concerts are cancelled, auditoriums are empty, and curtains are closed indefinitely. But never tell Joe Peppercorn anything is impossible.

A decade ago, Peppercorn performed every Beatles song in chronological order — all 215 of them. It was a one-man show to top every one-man show before or since, one that’s become part of Columbus folklore and evolved into an annual event bringing together countless musicians and supporting artists. When we needed it most, Joe decided to repeat that first unlikely feat — simple, stripped down, and shared with the world from his living room.

“It was a lot like that first year. I thought I’d have a chance to prep the show a little more, but I was also figuring out how to livestream for the first time,” recalled Peppercorn. “I didn’t feel like anything completely went off the rails. I kind of thrive on chaos.”

Joe moved instinctively between guitar and piano, constructing drum loops on the fly, like Ringo Starr meets Reggie Watts. Fellow musicians joined in remotely by iPad, and several spontaneously showed up in his front yard, adding vocals and absent instruments from a microphone dropped out an open window. The visibly exhausted Peppercorn really did get by with a little help from his friends—and his three kids, who also helped close out the 12-hour marathon.

“I thought they’d be asleep, but they love Across the Universe and Golden Slumbers,” he noted. “It wasn’t planned. It was this beautiful moment that just happened.”

Fortunately, those who missed it can still find it on Facebook, a fitting soundtrack for social distancing and uncertain times. ▩

August 1, 2019

Still the Shazzbots

Originally published in the August 2019 issue of (614) Magazine

Kids music tends to get a bad wrap for good reason. From the Wiggles to Barney, inane to annoying, somewhere along the way, “kids” and “music” became decoupled, as though children don’t deserve sincere songwriting, and education and entertainment also became mutually exclusive.

That’s why parents are over the Moon for the Shazzbots, the credible Columbus kids band that might just save the universe from one more infernal refrain of “Fruit Salad” or a hyperkinetic purple dinosaur professing his creepy affection. Founded by Ian Hummel more than a decade ago, live shows eventually evolved into an Emmy-winning television pilot, funded entirely by loyal fans. Their latest album, LIGHTSPEED!, is their long-awaited third release and an apt metaphor for their change in trajectory, marked by a growing international audience.

“When we first started, it was just songs. But I didn’t want it to just be me. I wanted it to be more, something along the lines of Sesame Street, with characters and a backstory behind the songs,” recalled Hummel, whose nautical alter ego Captain Captain travels the galaxy with an acoustic guitar and an archetypical band of misfits in a heavily-modified Winnebago. “We weren’t even sure what form the band would take. For a while, there was no drummer, only percussion. For a hot minute, there was even an accordion.”

Hummel recruited friend and bass player Mike “Navigator Scopes” Heslop to help craft the band’s elaborate backstory, with characters whose talents matched those of their real-life counterparts. Josh Tully, better know to kids as Professor Swiss Vanderburton, moved back to electric guitar when Steve Frye, aka Watts Watson, settled in behind the skins. That initial lineup has remained unchanged, but there have been three female members of the crew. Amber Allen as Debora Nebula, Molly Winters as Aurora Borealis, and Diane Hummel as Luna Stardust, who rounds out percussion and also happens to be married to a certain space captain.

“It’s important to have female role models, and you can see from the stage how little girls connect with Luna Stardust,” noted Hummel. “Her costume is still girly, but you can tell she’s a member of the crew. There’s a team dynamic you see in cartoons like Voltron and Thundercats I knew I wanted in the Shazzbots.”

Though the age of their audience has stayed the same, expectations for the entire music industry changed course. Social media was barely a blip when the band began, and streaming services were almost nonexistent. Now they’re essential. But this too is where the Shazzbots shine, a retro band ready for a new frontier.

“After filming the television show and getting it on Amazon, we kind of hit a wall deciding what was next,” he admitted. “So we spent nearly a year creating content for YouTube, something new every week. Kids still listen to songs in the car, but they also watch music videos on their iPads. You have to be available everywhere they are.”

Another giant leap into this new era for the band required rethinking the brand. Matthew Hubbard, one of the filmmakers behind the TV pilot, helped tap into the emerging “kindie” industry, clever slang for independent music catering to kids. Unlike commodity kids bands created to make a quick buck, so-called kindie artists are steeped in the sincere songwriting tradition that predates the digital age. They Might Be Giants and Dan Zanes are more contemporary ambassadors for children’s music with a message, but even Johnny Cash and Woody Guthrie released kids album every bit as sophisticated as their more famous fare.

“Embracing the kindie label, as well as working through a distributor and with a PR person who understand that audience, has really opened doors,” Hubbard explained. “We’re now available on Sirius XM Kids Place Live and Shazzbots albums are in more than 600 libraries nationwide. There are also all of the major streaming services, Spotify, Amazon, and Apple as well helping to reach a global audience.”

The irony of the Shazzbots now broadcasting songs via satellite hasn’t escaped the band. It’s probably impossible to be more on brand. But that doesn’t diminish the analog roots and inspiration behind LIGHTSPEED!, available on CD, digital, and as an actual vinyl record with an intricately illustrated gatefold cover featuring a cross-section of the ship created by artist Joel Jackson, whom many may recognize as the ominous pirate from the television pilot’s cliffhanger ending.

“These new streaming options and the release of the new album have given us more reach and more information than we’ve ever had before,” Hubbard noted. “We know how many people are watching the TV show, which is really starting to take off in the UK. We can see which songs are doing well in Australia, a market that is also growing due to songs getting play on the inflight kids entertainment service on Quantas airlines. We use these insights to decide which song should be next for a music video, or maybe shouldn’t, at least not right now.”

“Having all of this data can be overwhelming, and you can overthink it. It can reinforce your instincts as a musician, but you also have to be careful not to let it affect you too much as an artist,” Hummel explained. “These are great tools to have, but you can’t let them keep you from pushing boundaries by trying to find a formula for success. Sometimes those simple little songs will surprise you.”

Plenty of musicians have been there before, watching an outtake or alternate track that barely made an album resonate unexpectedly, despite prevailing opinion. It’s also why live shows remain the best market research for the Shazzbots, even now that some of their earliest fans are old enough to be in college. Requests from the audience, often songs that may not have the obvious hallmarks of a hit single, still spark something unexpected. It’s evidence that those obscure deep cuts have sticking power too, feedback a synthetic studio-only kids band just wouldn’t understand.

“I was playing at Big Fun last weekend, and a dad and his two daughters were there. The youngest daughter was wearing one of our t-shirts she’d gotten as a hand-me-down from her sister who is now a teenager,” Hummel revealed. “The older daughter still knew all of the songs. It’s something they shared. She grew out of the shirt, but not the Shazzbots.” ▩

For more on the Shazzbots, LIGHTSPEED!, and upcoming live shows, visit theshazzbots.com

December 13, 2018

Barbershop Quintet

Originally published in the December 2018 issue of (614) Magazine

The foremost fear of many musicians is failing to fill a room, and rightly so. The club circuit is cutthroat, and light ticket sales and lackluster turnout can easily kill a band’s future before it even begins.

Empty seats are hardly a concern at the most exclusive live music venue in Columbus, where the audiences rarely outnumber the performers and it’s typically standing room only.

That’s because it’s not a basement bar or small stage. It’s a barbershop.

Jim Morris might surprise you as the proprietor of a place called The Mug & Brush. With his wavy white mane and robust beard, he looks like someone who hasn’t seen the inside of a barbershop in a while, not the owner of one. (Two in fact, between the original in the Old North neighborhood between campus and Clintonville, and now an equally quaint second location in Gahanna.)

But as the creator of an indie music series shot on a shoestring that has acts lining up to get in, his relaxed locks and attitude are entirely on brand.

“We started with a couple of prototype sessions with The Floorwalkers and Nick D’ and the Believers. Even before that, I’d asked just about every video and sound guy who came through the shop about the project,” Morris recalled. “I’d cut Keith’s hair for about ten years, but hadn’t seen him recently because he was growing his hair long. He stopped by and I told him about the idea. That’s how I finally hooked up with the crew.”

Keith Hanlon is exactly what you’d expect from a seasoned sound guy. As a producer and audio engineer, he’s as adept at booking the bands as he is running the board in a recording studio that’s far more complex than just a warm old room with high ceilings. Hanlon is affable and technical, intent on isolating each performer’s voice and instrument with assuring precision, despite the odd mix of textures and street traffic.

“The biggest issue I have is bleed onto the vocal mics. It depends on how loud the drummer is,” Hanlon quipped, himself a drummer. “As we’ve progressed, we’ve gone from a pieced together PA system for monitors to a decent USB mixer and enough equipment accumulated along the way to create a studio feel that still sounds live.”

“It began with a few friends and bands we knew, like Birdshack and Righteous Buck. They agreed sight unseen, it was a leap of faith,” Morris revealed. “They didn’t know the crew or exactly what it was all about, but they said, “We’re in,” anyway. Within six months, bands were calling us.”

Though The Mug & Brush Sessions is a music series, don’t mistake it for a podcast. It’s decidedly cinematic, with multiple cameras and a balance of shots that never looks or sounds sanitized or slick. With angles and close ups as high and tight as a haircut, it’s raw and refined at the same time.

“We do several takes, but we don’t intercut. Sometimes you’ll pick up something only one person will notice,” Hanlon explained. “You may see it on the performers face, but we’ll just let it go and use another shot. I’d rather have an imperfect performance than lose the magic.”

Getting a big sound out of a small space isn’t easy on either side of board. Bands used to playing for hundreds, perhaps thousands also have to scale down their performance to the intimate surroundings. Engineering can also prove imperfect, amplified by the occasional OS update with unintended consequences.

“Things break down, and an update can render a piece of equipment useless. Doc Robinson had eight performers, the most we’ve ever had in the room. I could still use the mixer, I just couldn’t record from it,” Hanlon explained. He ended up cobbling a couple of pieces of equipment together to manage the monitors and capture the recording, syncing the 10-channel session afterward. “It was the only way we could do it. Sometimes, you just have to make it work.”

Though there is a bent toward indie rock and Americana, there are definitely no limits on genre. From local folks who have earned audiences beyond Columbus, like Lydia Loveless and Josh Krajcik, to the EDM of Damn the Witch Siren and spunk rock darlings Cherry Chrome.

“I’d like to see more of the less frequent genres we’ve had, like Blueprint and Dominique Larue,” Morris recalled. “We also had a chamber music string quartet once, Carpe Diem.”

“We try to book acts with musical diversity and diversity in general. I’d love to have a Somali or Latino group, something you won’t find outside those communities,” Hanlon followed.

As a Midwest crossroads, their relationship with Natalie’s, proximity to the Newport, and pipeline from Nashville has also yielded some unexpected acts for The Mug & Brush Sessions.

“We’ve had Peter Case, and Califone, and Greg Trooper, though there are so many local acts, we really don’t have to look outside Columbus,” noted Hanlon. “I’d love to get Michael Hurley. He’s always playing at Nelsonville Music Festival and up at Natalie’s.”

Beyond the bands, the real genius of the show is how scalable and shareable it is. Shot on the same DSLR platform favored by independent filmmakers, it feels authentic without being claustrophobic. Hosted on YouTube instead of some hyper-restrictive or homespun solution, it’s easy to send to a friend with a click. For many bands, it’s become a measure of credibility or a professional milestone, like the local equivalent of an appearance on Austin City Limits or MTV Unplugged.

It’s also just as easy to watch it on a television screen as a smartphone or computer. Performances also hold up on even bigger screens, occasionally featured at Mojoflo’s Music Video Mondays at the Gateway Film Center. The stripped down style of the sessions actually succeeds where most music videos fail, transporting the audience to a live performance, as though they’re sitting right there in a barber chair between Jim and Keith, taking it all in.

“We’re creating an archive of the Columbus music scene we hope will still be relevant decades from now. But that wasn’t exactly our original intent. We just wanted to feature local musicians in a new way,” Morris noted. “When we started, I hoped we might make it to 100 episodes. But now that we’re five years in, who knows. Maybe we can make it to ten?” ▩

For a complete archive of The Mug & Brush Sessions, visit themugandbrushsessions.com

December 13, 2018

Second Story

Originally published in the December 2018 issue of (614) Magazine

There’s no perfect formula for connecting artists and audiences, much to the dismay of musicians, promoters, and the fans they fail to rope into their orbit. But if there were one, the secret ingredient that distinguishes nuisance from noise would probably be the venue itself.

Maybe that’s why mindful musicians and their faithful followers are driving in droves to a former furniture store out in Newark for craft beer and cocktails before settling in for shows that defy expectations at any decibel.

Unlike an aging arena or basement bar, Thirty One West was built for music, back in the days when Newark was known as “Little Chicago” for its robust theater scene. But after decades of decline, like most medium-sized Midwest towns, the satellite city has been torn between playing second fiddle to a tempting metropolis just over the horizon or forging its own destination identity. The dance hall days are over. Fire claimed some, neglect got the rest — all but this one that happened to find a second life as a low-frills furniture store waiting to be rediscovered.

“During construction, we did a series called the Ballroom Revival Sessions. We wanted to share with folks where we were in the process and were eager to have music in the space and hear how it sounded,” explained Tom Atha, champion of Newark’s own larger revival and a familiar face for anyone who’s ever been to Thirty One West.

The Church Street “project” as it became locally known includes a barbecue joint, a yoga studio, a play café, and an art space featuring Atha’s alma mater Denison University. But the second story live concert venue and street level bar are the jewels in this downtown crown of urban renewal. Atha also operates Earthwork Recording Studio down the block, so creating a small space feel despite the enormity of the undertaking was always a priority.

“We started inviting friends in to perform, but also offer an update on construction. It allowed us to do some interviews and gather insights from artists on what they look for in a venue,” he recalled. “With someone like Sean Rowe, we were really curious about his interest in house shows, and how could a larger venue still capture the intimacy of a house show. It helped us share what we were doing and get some music out there before we even had the doors open.”

It didn’t take long for word to get out that there was something special about the acoustical street cred of their quirky old ballroom with a bar in both the basement and the balcony. That’s why acts that could play anywhere are reconnecting with their roots at a venue that brings artists and audiences together. From the growling blues of Taj Mahal to the jazz-funk fusion of Spyro Gyra, performers seeking something kindred in a place that is both old and new have taken notice.

“For me, the biggest part of choosing a venue is whether the audience can hear the show as we intend it. You don’t want it loud, and reverberant, and noisy. I really prefer to have a listening environment,” revealed Steven Page, who played his first gig at Thirty One West in October. The former front man for Barenaked Ladies knows what makes a room and an audience both hum. “I’m pretty aware of the fact that my audience isn’t 22 anymore. They’re not going to want to come see me and stand on a concrete floor for five hours.”

Many musicians often have only rudimentary information about a venue before playing there for the first time — city, capacity, and little else. Bookers and promoters schedule the shows. One delivers the talent, the other the audience. But when artists are impressed by the right place, or turned off, everyone tends to hear about it.

“Lots of artists compare notes, especially the horror stories. You’ll always remember the really terrible ones. But if there’s a new venue opening up in town, or one that’s developing a new reputation, you automatically share those experiences with other musicians,” Page noted. “I’ll go to my agent and say I really want to play there again. And that helps get more acts booked there as well.”

Every venue has a different vibe, and Thirty One West seems to occupy the fabled Goldilocks zone right in the middle, large enough to achieve critical mass, yet small enough for the shared experience not to get lost.

“If a room is acoustically dead, some songs won’t have the same kind of expansive feeling they would in a more lively room. And if a venue is really noisy, it’s harder for us to hear ourselves onstage. If notes go out and wash around the room, we may have to choose songs that require less precision. The strokes are broader,” Page explained. “There’s a song that we do some nights, an old Barenaked Ladies song called Break Your Heart. If the room feels right and sounds right, and the audience is engaged, it becomes this perfect storm. I’ll do it incredibly intimately, if I feel like my voice is going to carry in that room. I’d like to do it every night, but I’d blow my voice out. So it’s the kind of performance you only get if the room can support it.”

The ballroom doesn’t necessarily look like what you might expect from that moniker. There aren’t velvet curtains or a punch bowl at the end of the room for thirsty wallflowers. Instead, there’s an expansive wooden dance floor that resonates with each note with a mix of modest tables and chairs. Yet the room is so tuned in, there’s actually a sign in balcony warning patrons to mind their voices, as the acoustics carry conversations all the way down to the stage.

“Sometimes we’ll play in a place that’s really ornate, like an old church, or a venue that seems really dressy, and you can tell an audience is intimidated by that. They aren’t as expressive right off the bat, so you have to work a little harder for them to feel less self-conscious, let go, and enjoy the show. I like those challenges. Honestly, I like having to work for every bit of applause. It’s easy to take it for granted,” explained Page. “If the room is right, the audience is at ease. That’s when unpredictable things happen. We have the freedom to mix up of the set list, or an encore. Someone may shout out a request we haven’t prepared or played as a trio, and we’ll try it out anyway.”

This is where Thirty One West really ups the ante on venues, and is a credible threat for the predictable digs folks are used to in Columbus. They know the room so artists are also at ease, tuning their tech like the whole building was one giant instrument instead of turning everything up to 11 and hoping for the best.

“The folks at Thirty One West told us it was the first time for a lot of people there at the show, so hopefully connecting with a new clientele will help build that core audience. For us, the staff and crew were great, easy to work with from the monitors to the PAs. They were helpful and hands on and really knew how to work their equipment,” Page revealed. “That’s a big difference. Sometimes you go into a place and that’s not the case. But when you work with people who know the room, it makes our job so much easier, knowing we can go on stage relaxed and that the audience will hear the show as it should be.”

Even so, old habits are tough to break with some tours that tend to look past smaller shows or locales, despite the increased attention from performers and their patrons.

“It could be daunting initially to attract acts that are used to playing right in Columbus. We thought it was a really beautiful building, aesthetically and acoustically. That’s what’s going to win them over. It’s such a great listening room — without being precious about it,” Page opined. “I remember playing a couple of gigs over the years, places where they actually shush people if they talk. I feel I have to earn people’s quiet. But if it’s a talky room, maybe it’s because audiences can’t hear us as well. Everyone here was relaxed, enthusiastic, and into the show. That’s what the right venue can do. It’s not just the building, it’s the audience it attracts.”

However, the ballroom is only part of what distinguishes Thirty One West from your typical concert hall. It’s about building that elusive connection between artists and audiences into something that doesn’t fade away after the encore.

“We started the 31 Club when we launched, which is our $100 membership. The idea was to embrace our core audience, get feedback, offer some cool perks, and create a relationship and a dialogue to know how we were doing. We do member appreciation shows, there are discounts at our bar, discounts on our merch, we open access to ticket sales early, and give away tickets via lottery,” Atha explained. “This past year, we extended our memberships to include a Season Pass at the $500 level. That includes two general admission tickets to every show for the calendar year. You still get all of the perks of the 31 Club, plus a couple of tickets to each show.”

Imagine buying concert tickets like Netflix instead of going to Blockbuster back in the day. Instead of only going to see the bands you know, you’re more likely to discover new ones — and that’s kind of the point.

“Folks were coming out to shows they never would have otherwise. If we have enough members who do that, we can take bigger risks as a music venue, and do a better job curating, if we know there is a core audience to support it,” Atha revealed.

Thirty One West also created the Stereogram Sessions, bringing two musicians into the studio separately, laying down four or five tracks, pressing each session to a side, and hosting a vinyl release party featuring both of the artists.

“It marries both of my endeavors in downtown Newark together. But there was another challenge we were also trying to solve. We’ve had success bringing in national talent, but we’ve had a harder time booking acts from Columbus because audiences can see them there anytime,” Atha explained. “So that’s where the idea was born, let’s give Columbus audiences an excuse to come here to see a Columbus act by offering a different experience. We’re a listening room, so we appreciate when music is valued in a focused way. Vinyl accomplishes that in a way digital streaming can’t and ties our performances at Thirty One West to a permanent product.”

Luckily, you don’t have to wait for the next show or a vinyl release to stop by the street-level bar below the ballroom

“The Bootlegger was created and branded as its own space, because it’s open whether or not there is a concert,” Atha explained. “We never charge admission for events at the Bootlegger. It gives us a connection to the community and a great place to vet talent as potential openers for future shows.”

Locals are still discovering Thirty One West, but so are folks from surrounding cities and states, slowly building that loyal base of patrons and supporters competing venues will surely envy.

“We still have first timers coming through our doors all the time, but we’re starting to build that core audience we’ve always wanted. But people are still coming here to see the bands, so we do everything we can to treat them well,” Atha noted. “That feedback that makes it back to the booking agencies or management is what sets us apart. It’s why we get calls for shows routing through Ohio wanting to try someplace new. It’s still a hard pitch, but it’s why artist feedback on what we do differently is essential — and we try to knock it out of the park with every show.” ▩

For details on upcoming shows at Thirty One West, or to see their Ballroom Revival Sessions, visit thirtyone-west.com