King Black Acid - Tomorrow Never Knows (Beatles cover) - Live

Daniel John Riddle is an American musician best known by his pseudonym King Black Acid. Riddle began recording music under the name King Black Acid as a high school student in the late 1980s while also bassist for Portland industrial rock band Hitting Birth. Since then Riddle has worked with an ever-changing collective of musicians, referred to as the Electric Chair Band (1993), the Womb Star Orchestra (1993-1997), the Starseed Transmission (1997-2001), the 144,000 Piece Acid Army (2002-2003), and the Sacred Heart (2006-2009). All King Black Acid material is written and produced by Riddle, who sings and plays guitar during live shows, and who plays a variety of other instruments in the recording studio. Riddle also operates a recording studio, Mazinga Studio, where he produces records under the name King Black Acid. In addition to several studio releases, King Black Acid has recorded music for several film and TV soundtracks.  From: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/King_Black_Acid

Erutan - Tarts

My mother was a private Classical violin teacher and taught lessons in our home. There was never a moment where I wasn't listening to the music of her students or vinyl records of classical, ancient/medieval, world, and many other types of music on our old turntable.   
I was presented with and started playing my first violin at age one and a half. It was a 1/32 size, which is the smallest practical size of violin available. I broke it within the day, ha, but that was to be expected. What was not expected was my taking to the instrument for real, and learning very fast. I mimicked my mother's students and learned the pieces that they played while still in diapers. We have a few precious videos of this, which I will have to bring out one day to share.  
Though my childhood and teen years I practiced a lot - often 5 or 6 hours daily. This sounds excessive, but in the world of competitive classical violin, it is absolutely necessary. I went on to win several competitions, played solos in front of several orchestras, and gave many performances. Between practice sessions, I loved everything about being outside. The plants, the dirt, and the animals. Even though we lived in a small apartment in the city, I was still able to find small pockets of nature to explore and experience.  Even though there are no forests near my home, and most of the fields have been developed, I still try to indulge my love of the natural world by growing pot herbs and keeping the local birds fed.  
When I was 15, I started playing Celtic and medieval music with a small group called the Donnybrook Legacy/Sonus. I joined them when they were winding down from major label recording and were doing more laid back local performances. I learned so so much from these 4 amazing musicians. The music I was exposed to during the four years I worked with them created a love for celtic and ancient music that you can plainly see in my own music style today. From there, I started to pick up many new instruments to learn.  
Around the same time I joined them, I began composing music, being very inspired by the beautiful soundtracks of rpg video games like Final Fantasy and Chrono Cross/Trigger. I wrote hundreds of little melodies during this time, with the chief intention of someday becoming a composer of video game scores. I also started writing lyrics, and with the support and urging of those around me, I began to sing.  From: https://www.erutanmusic.com/drinks  


 

 

Alcest - L'Envol

Noisey: How did they convince you to do that whole record in its entirety?


Neige: For every band that played the festival they asked them to do a special show—either a full record, acoustic, or with some special musicians. For us we didn’t really have the time to do a full acoustic thing so we decided to play this record. It sounded like a good idea and it was a good location to try these songs.

It’s been awhile since you’ve played those songs; how hard was it to prepare for this?


Neige: It’s been six years! We had to practice and rehearse a lot to find the guitar parts again, so it was a bit of work, but I think the show was good.

Winterhalter: The cave is amazing; when you’re on stage and you see all these people in a cave, it’s very strange actually.

Neige: And it actually fits with the theme of the album, because it’s actually about the abyss, and the ocean, and the depths of the ocean, and it was almost like being inside a cave in the ocean. It was cool. On the new record, the drums were recorded in a big mansion; we’re rehearsing there in the attic, and it’s huge—it’s like three hundred square meters, and we used natural reverb because it has a very deep sound.

How are you going to get that big sound when you play those songs live?


Winterhalter: [Laughs] We really don’t know. It’ll be kind of a challenge, but we’re confident!

This record is different conceptually, too—it still follows the Alcest tradition of channeling otherwordly spirits, but this time, it’s got a pronounced Japanese influence. Where did that come from?


Neige: It’s an album about the confrontation of the natural world and the human world. The concept of the album came after I watched Hayao Miyazaki’s anime film Princess Mononoke; in the film it’s exactly that idea, of the two different worlds that try to live together. They struggle, and I think we are really busy taking care of our little programs that we forget there is another world around us that is being neglected. Nature always inspires us, and also it has kind of an urban side because I’m living in the city; it’s like a mix of very mortal things and very spiritual things.

What made you want to go back to this heavier sound? You guys veered into more melodic prog over the last couple of records but this one sounds like it’ll be a bit darker, a bit closer to your roots. Why now?


Neige: I think we couldn’t have gone even softer then we went, because Shelter was the softest record we have done. We wanted to go back to something a bit more punchy, because at the time we felt this need, in a very natural way, because after such a mellow record, you want to make something a bit more punchy.

It’s going to be interesting seeing the reaction to this record, because when your first few records came out, nobody really sounded like you, and now at this point so many bands have ripped you off, or been inspired by you.


Neige: That’s true; when we started there were not many bands doing this thing, and now, for me the first band that I really liked in this genre was Deafheaven, because I think they made it really good—this black metal shoegaze thing— but lots of bands are not so good at it. There’s effects and things, but a good song is not based on guitar pedals—it’s all about how to build a song, and how to make catchy melodies and stuff.

Is that a title that makes sense to you? Blackgaze?


We had all kinds of names; it’s labels that people try to give to this music, but if they choose blackgaze, it’s okay. I guess they have to find a name for this genre. In the beginning, we were labeled as “gay,” because the melodies are very fragile and the imagery we have is very different from metal imagery; we stand behind this, though, it’s a part of our universe. In the beginning, when people tried to ask me what was the link between Alcest and black metal, I would say that we share the same taste for spirituality because I think black metal is a very spiritual music, but Alcest is on the bright side—it’s very uplifting, and black metal is darker, but actually we share the same taste for things that are beyond this world.

Are you spiritual people?


Neige: Me, yes, I think Winterhalter, too; we have a strong connection with nature.

How does that translate into the Japanese spirits that you’re talking about on this record?


Neige: First, I love Japanese culture; I’ve loved everything about Japan since I was a little kid, because in France, we’ve got a lot of Japanese animation and we grew up with that, so in a way, it left something with people in my generation, like a kind of connection. When we came to Japan to play, it was really something special; we did acoustic shows in temples. So this and the fact that I think that some of the Asian countries—especially Japan—they keep a very strong connection to spirituality, and it’s quite interesting to see how they mix their modern life with the traditional and the spiritual, as opposed to what we see in Christian countries. I don’t like that type of spirituality; I feel more of a connection to the Asian culture. For me, it’s more true and normal than Europe. I don’t think a lot of people in France have a strong connection with nature. But the album is not really about nature, it’s about this feeling that I’ve had and been trying to express in the lyrics where I feel like I don’t belong to this place—the feeling of being a stranger. There is a song called “Je Suis D’Ailleurs” which means “I’m from somewhere else,” and a lot of lyrics on there are about this, where I feel like I’m here but I don’t feel like home here, I have my home somewhere else.

Does creating this music make you feel like you’re getting closer to finding that home?


Neige: Yeah, sure, that’s the main goal. It’s what I’m doing since I’m fourteen. In the beginning, I was alone, then Winterhalter joined me, and that’s the whole concept of the band—this idea that this is not the only place for us. The point with nature and why we spoke about nature is that when you’re in nature, you kind of have to find a connection with this alien side; I’m sure a lot of people are very old souls and when you are in nature, it helps you connect with part of your soul that you don’t necessarily know or feel very close to in an urban context.

Winterhalter: It’s also about the fact that, okay, I’m talking about nature, but do I do the right things for nature? I’m just like everyone, so it’s also speaking about our weaknesses and how it’s hard to act.


Neige: It’s funny, because if I spend too much time in the city, I’m a little bit crazy and I want to be in nature, and if I spend too much time in nature I miss the city, so that is the duality, these two worlds that you try to live in together and it’s very hard. That’s the connection where Princess Mononoke came in. [Neither of the characters ] is the evil one, they both have flaws; it’s just trying to live together.

From: https://www.vice.com/en/article/alcest-kodama-interview-premiere/

Death Valley Girls - Abre Camino

Interview with Death Valley Girls’ Bonnie Bloomgarden

What initially drew you to the world of rock music and how did those early influences inspired your sound?

When I was five, I heard Billie Holiday singing, and it blew my mind. I didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl; I just thought it was so cool that someone sang like that, and everyone loved it. I became obsessed with her, and that was the beginning. They told me she was an alcoholic who had to sing to live, to earn money for alcohol, and I thought that sounded so romantic—just having to sing every day to live your life. I was obsessed with it.

Can you recall the defining moment that solidified your decision to form Death Valley Girls?

I was in a very low place, I had just moved across the country, and I had given up music. There was just a huge hole in my life. I didn’t know that it was music, I just felt so empty and lonely. Then once I started playing, I realized that I need music, I need to be part of it, I need to be obsessed, surrounded by all these things to fill the hole. I realized why I needed it after I came back to it.

How did growing up in Los Angeles influence the band’s formation and the creative direction?

Los Angeles is huge and filled with tiny mysteries and magical places, but you almost have to be shown them. It’s exciting with so many little areas and pockets. There’s a million worlds here, and you can pop from one to the other. It’s very artistic—everyone is trying to make art in their own way, even if it seems silly, like working out or whatever. Everyone here is on a mission, and it’s a neat energy to be around.

What were some of the challenges you faced while recording your debut album, Street Venom?

We couldn’t get any shows. No one would let us play any shows for like a year. So we decided that the only way we could get shows is if we had a record. So we made that as fast as possible. We just played for a year, just trying to get shows and then made a record as fast as possible. And it actually did work. It’s very helpful to be able to send people music, rather than an email, just explaining why you want to play their concert hall.

The lineup has changed over the years. How have these changes influenced your creative dynamic?

That’s super interesting. We see this as a spiritual journey and the music as spiritual, like a religion and a healing journey. As we go from record to record, we capture the growth we’ve had. Each new person who joins either teaches us a lesson or brings us sounds we didn’t know existed. It’s cool to be in a band focused on evolving and growing spiritually rather than just knocking out hits.

From: https://retrofuturista.com/death-valley-girls-interview/

Iron Butterfly - In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida

The monster psychedelic hit of 1968 and possibly the entire 60's decade, the long version of this song became far more famous than the radio edit single version. Recorded in May 1968, both the album and the single were released in June. Although not recorded until that year, the band was already playing the song live in 1967. Despite the fact that the song's title is an obvious mistransliteration of "in the Garden of Eden," few have pursued a visual interpretation of the Adamic story, possibly because they may have thought it a bit sparse an account to spread over a period of over 17 minutes. But there is a lot there and it is all to be found in the music rather than the lyrics.  From: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LqIJfGQI5us

Seryn - Stage On Sixth 2011

Tori: You guys recently relocated from Denton, Texas to Nashville. What’s the biggest difference you’ve noticed between the two music scenes?

Trenton Wheeler: The Nashville scene is much more professional-focused, as you would suspect. Denton is more free-formed. There’s a jazz school there. The ideology behind the music is more about the art and there’s a lot of business involved with the music scene in Nashville. I find for myself – the one thing that I’m wrestling with now – is not getting too swept up within the business of music, but still remembering that it’s a form of art, and remembering that it’s the way I express myself and not just a way to make money.

Tori: That makes sense. With the four-year gap between This Is Where We Are and Shadow Shows along with a new sound, were you nervous about how fans would respond to the newer sound?

TW: Honestly, not really. Not that we were worried that some people would dislike it, but more so we just knew that’s where our music had taken us and that’s where we were supposed to be, and if people didn’t like it, then that was their own prerogative. The thing we don’t want to do is only write music to please what people expect out of you. Part of the whole thing is making something that’s honest to yourself, and if we’re no longer in a place where we make that same exact sound that we did on the first record, then I would be lying to you if the music did not reflect that.

Tori: What I’ve taken from your music over the years is it’s like a sonic tapestry with the way everything weaves together. Since there are multi-instrumentalists in the band, how do you decide which instruments to use for which songs, or do you just go with whatever sounds good to you?


TW: I think it’s a very organic process of just figuring out. This song, maybe we’re looking for this timbre to communicate this emotion, so sometimes that banjo is appropriate to get that brittle high end. For us, it’s more about timbre than it is genre. We don’t pick a banjo to be anything folk or otherwise. It’s just we love the way it sounded. Same with me picking to play ukulele. When I first picked it up, it gave me an alternative, and I tune it all funky, too. So I made it sound the way I wanted it to sound before I played it. It had nothing to do with any association with the kind of music that it’s made before people started picking it up all the time.

Tori: You worked with producer McKenzie Smith on Shadow Shows. What was that like?

TW: It was very fun. He has a brilliant mind when it comes to drums. He’s been doing that for a lot of his career, so it was really fun to see how he could influence and give his input as far as the drums and bass sounds.

Tori: What I’ve taken from Shadow Shows over repeated listens are themes of embracing life, wanting more out of life, and re-evaluating your place in the world. For you, what is the album about?

TW: For me, personally, the record is very much so a stamp of what that time looked like for me while we were writing and recording it. It was a lot about personal struggle within this world and reconciling our relationship with death, and also reconciling relationships in this life, and how even in this life, sometimes life comes through death, like giving yourself for a relationship. By giving a piece of yourself to someone and laying down a piece of your own heart, sometimes the reward that you get back is far more rewarding than if you were to keep it to yourself.

From: https://betweenthenotes.blog/2015/09/19/interview-with-trenton-wheeler-of-seryn/

Jerry Garcia - Garcia - Side 1

01 Deal
02 Bird Song
03 Sugaree
04 Loser

As a precocious youth, Jerry Garcia found escape through painting, studying the Bay Area figurative style of abstract art. Late in life, it was scuba diving, acquainting himself with the ocean floors of Hawaii, petting octopuses and eels, setting a world record for the longest time spent underwater. But when he was turning 30, all Jerry wanted to do was play pedal steel. You can hear the fruits of his exploration between the years of 1969 and 1974 all over live recordings from the Grateful Dead, on guest appearances on classics by friends like Jefferson Starship and CSNY, and throughout the early catalog of New Riders of the Purple Sage, a band started with the express purpose of honing his skill in collaboration.
But if you really want to hear what Jerry Garcia could do with the pedal steel, listen to “The Wheel.” It’s the closing track of 1972’s Garcia, among the most beautiful four minutes of music in his vast catalog. Bursting to life from a discordant jam, the cyclical folk song feels like adjusting to new visibility under the sea. Seesawing between buoyant major chords, with Garcia’s vocals layered in tight coils of harmony, his pedal steel guides the way, untrained but masterful, exuding a joy that radiates from the speakers, even 50-plus years later.
At the time of its release, Jerry distinguished his debut solo album from his previous work by being “completely self-indulgent.” Think about this for a second. This is an artist who made fine art of self-indulgence. He reshaped the modern rock concert in his own sprawling, unhurried image; he played guitar solos like nobody has, before or since, largely based on lyrical motifs that felt designed to drift effortlessly forever; he admitted to viewing studio albums—those old-school totems of discipline and meaning—as a “necessary evil” to function within an industry he loathed; he led a band who would develop a setlist staple composed entirely of drum solos and prolonged ambience.
So, what was different this time? For one thing, it happened in a flash. The bulk of the music—developed through improvisations between Garcia on acoustic guitar and his Dead bandmate Bill Kreutzmann on drums, with lyricist Robert Hunter scribbling away in a corner—happened in roughly the span of a week. After just 21 days, the whole record was sequenced, mixed, and handed over to the label. Soon, he’d be back on the road with the Dead, playing the legendary shows that would be documented on the extraordinary live album Europe ’72. Coming after the band’s twin peaks of Workingman’s Dead and American Beauty, both released in 1970 and both succeeding in pushing the group beyond cult fame into wider acceptance, Jerry’s solo music did little to embellish the winning streak he was already on.
If this makes Garcia sound like a blip—an itch he had to scratch, one small twinkling star in an ever-expanding galaxy—then it kind of was. “I don’t want anyone to think it’s me being serious or anything like that—it’s really me goofing around,” he told Rolling Stone. “I’m not trying to have my own career or anything like that.” And yet, Garcia goofing around for a week in the studio in 1972, among this company, also stands as one of the most captivating cosmic Americana records of all time—an album whose consistency, energy, and vision helped introduce some of the most enduring songs to the Dead’s live set for decades to come.
If Garcia was only a document of those great songs—the loping singalong “Sugaree,” the pulsing Janis Joplin elegy “Bird Song,” the spiritual ballad “To Lay Me Down”—it would simply be a critical moment in the bandmembers’ catalogs alongside Bob Weir’s Ace, released that same year. But where Ace was a solo album in name alone, Garcia was decidedly a showcase for Jerry himself, exhibiting things he could not and would not do in the Dead. Exploring the limits of a 16-track recorder, he played nearly every instrument himself. There’s the pedal steel, of course, but also bass, piano, organ, and, in the most novel moments, a sampler that he orchestrates to create a kind of avant-garde musique concrète he would never return to again.
Where the best Dead studio records feel like cozy, reined-in presentations of their best songs, Garcia is in its own class entirely. For one thing, Jerry clearly approached the record without thinking how it would hang together in a live set. Instead, each song is ornamented as its own set piece, building to a larger, heavenly atmosphere that owes more to art-rock than to the era’s post-hippie glow. Harkening back to the Dead’s playful beginnings as the house band at Ken Kesey’s Acid Tests in San Francisco, he incorporates sound collage and tape manipulation. There are false starts, recurring motifs, songs that segue into one another without pause. As it turns out, Garcia goofing around in the studio felt a lot like most other artists trying to craft their masterpiece.  From: https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/jerry-garcia-garcia/