Alongside the Burlington waterfront lies a lesser-known land beyond creemees and sunsets; one populated by photographers, metal workers and painters alike.
I attended my first-ever “First Friday” event, in which dozens of art venues and restaurants across the South End opened their doors free of charge to the Burlington community to promote local artists April 7. Aptly named, the event takes place on the first Friday of every month from 5 p.m. to 8 p.m.
Beyond enjoying the plethora of free brownies and viewing an impressive array of artwork, I was fortunate enough to speak with two women in the Burlington art community, both of whom are involved with galleries in the Downtown area.
My first stop was the HAVOC gallery on Sears Lane, one of the furthest galleries featured on the Burlington Art Map. HAVOC is a self-proclaimed “abstract contemporary gallery” featuring both local and international art. When they’re not displaying international artwork, the local flavor of Vermont artwork is brought by metalwork artist Bruce McDonald; HAVOC also serves as his studio space.
The gallery is a single room with the exhibits in front and McDonald’s studio in the back. It’s only view of the outside being a large garage door behind heaps of metal and wire contraptions. “In the summertime we put the bay doors up because you can smell the lake and it’s all green back there, which makes it an open air gallery,” said gallery director of HAVOC, Sarah Vogelsang-Card.
We discussed the gallery’s diverse displays of art from McDonald and international artists, and how their collection fits into the Burlington art scene.
“We don’t show Vermont-type art work; we exhibit abstract work, a lot of minimalism, high-profile work… so it’s the kind of artwork you would find in New York City galleries,” Vogelsand-Card said.
Although McDonald brings international work to the community, HAVOC prides itself on bringing a new outlook to the community.
“We love the Burlington art scene. We want to be able to contribute new visions, new ideas, and we generally don’t show Vermont artwork so we try to bring in artists from California and Virginia so we’re infusing the community with more art,” Vogelsand-Card said. “More art to see, more art to buy and more art to enjoy.”
She emphasized the importance of introducing international work to Burlington.
“We’re always flushed with new work of Bruce’s, but to be able to show international artists is really fun for us,” Vogelsang-Card said.
There are currently two exhibitions in the HAVOC gallery along with McDonald’s permanent display year-round. Next on the HAVOC agenda is their party in June celebrating McDonald’s piece, “Visible Indivisibles” reaching completion.
Just up the road from HAVOC on Pine Street was my next stop, Brickwork Art Studio. The space is home to fourteen studios featuring artwork of all shapes and styles.
“We’re primarily painters, printers, and I’m the only photographer,” said Jude Domski, Brickwork resident photographer. “We each rent our own spaces, but because of the close proximity, there’s always a bit of cross-pollination.”
The exhibits rotate monthly, as artists’ work alternates from the main gallery to smaller corridors.
Domski’s residency at Brickwork has influenced her work beyond what she initially expected. Her newest exhibit, “Shape of Water,” illustrates her artistic evolution since her time at the studio.
“I usually do digital, mostly event photography,” Domski said. ”[Shape of Water] is my first foray into more abstraction, which is not necessarily typical of what I do.”
This exploration began whilst looking for an art space, where Domski took into consideration multiple venues throughout Burlington.
“One venue was Karma Birdhouse, which is more media-focused. Had I been there, I would have been more influenced in that direction,” Domski said. “But it just happened that I chose to be here and I’m around more people doing abstraction. It’s been good for me as an event photographer to get out of that very literal mindset.”
After my time spent speaking with Jude and Sarah on that First Friday in April, I can honestly say I’ll be back exploring the Art Map on the next First Friday in May. Each venue offered me an entirely different experience, all within the comforts of Burlington’s borders.
It is genuinely hard to find someone who doesn’t enjoy listening to music. It’s quite a bit easier to find someone who doesn’t play music.
While factors such as lack of interest or time might play a part in this gap, the disconnect between listening and playing music is surely due to the difference in difficulty between listening and playing music.
Playing a guitar is hard, and there are infinitely wrong ways to do it. Listening to music is easy as can be as there’s no “wrong” way to hear an album. While the difficulty of learning to play an instrument, such as guitar, discourages a lot of people from trying to learn, others choose to embrace the challenge.
Holden Jaffe, a NYC-based singer-songwriter and frontman for the indie band Del Water Gap is one of these people.
He started his musical journey by learning how to play drums at age 12. His focus eventually shifted to guitar while spending his junior year of high school abroad in Zaragoza, Spain.
Upon moving to a big city for the first time, he knew he would have to part ways with his beloved space-robbing drums.
“I had brought my guitar, and I spent a lot of time that year sitting in my room, getting better at playing and writing songs.” Jaffe said; “then I kinda caught that bug and continued through my senior year of high school.”
While playing the guitar had logistical beginnings, as Jaffe became more interested in writing, it made more sense for him to play a melodic instrument he said.
Up until the early ‘70s, the only music making method was Jaffe’s instrument-based method. Anyone unwilling to put in the time and effort to buy and learn an instrument was relegated to simply listening to music rather than playing it.
That was until one album—Sly and the Family Stone’s 1971 masterpiece There’s a Riot Goin On—exposed the world to the then-primitive technology of drum machines. Interestingly enough, Sly’s motive for using a drum machine for the first time was not some genius attempt to re-invent the music industry; it was simply a logistical reaction to his drummer quitting the group due to a souring relationship.
Digital music technology has come a long way since the first drum machine, the Chamberlin Rhythmate, was released in 1957. Drum machines, synths and MIDI controllers are now becoming commonplace in most college dorms and apartments.
Be honest — everybody knows someone who “makes sick beats.” While over-confident, under-talented people such as these may contribute to the impression that increased accessibility of music-making is an awful thing, real musicians tend to disagree.
That change in accessibility is the biggest change to music—both the industry and the art form—in the history of recorded music, Jaffe said.
“I think it’s great; I’ve gotten so many opportunities to create content and meet new people, and to have a career I wouldn’t have otherwise,” he said.
Jaffe also shrugged off the common misconception that making music digitally is “easy as pie.”
“People treat these Digital Audio Workstations like instruments –they have to practice them and get to know them like instruments,” he said. “There’s no difference there.”
Jaffe has also noticed this increase in the accessibility of making music digitally. “A lot of friends are now moving in that direction,” he said, “and a couple of my most consistent collaborators are now in that world.”
Things are no different in Burlington, as every year there are more and more people digitally producing music.
One of those people is junior Mike Garrett (aka Mike G), who takes an old-school approach to production.
Mike G’s main instrument is an MPC-2000 XL, a storied drum machine and sampler that’s been the tool of choice for countless hip-hop legends over the years, like J Dilla, Nujabes, DJ Premier and many more.
“This machine is indirectly responsible for hip-hop, so I felt I had to get one at some point,” he said, “and I’m using the same thing my favorite producers did, so I can sort of put myself in their shoes and think, ‘this is what it’s like when Pete Rock makes music.’”
Garrett also took the old-school route of buying an MPC made in 2000 due to his self-proclaimed affection for old machinery.
“I love old electronics; they have cool little quirks to them that new things don’t,” Garrett said, “and the quirks are your friends.”
Even as someone who is passionate about producing the hard way on now-defunct technology, Garrett shares Jaffe’s opinion that the increased accessibility and ease of making music is a great thing.
“If you make music, I don’t think you can actually have a problem with more people making music, or that you can think of making music as an exclusive thing,” he said.
Garrett also commented on how advancements in production technology are beneficial even to old souls such as himself.
“In my research of trying to make a full analog studio setup, I’ve found it’s ridiculously expensive and requires a truly amazing amount of hardware,” he said, “but now your computer can do the same things all that hardware would do, so now it’s just so much less expensive to make music.”
A love for hip-hop, though, doesn’t attract everyone to the expensive and sometimes-frustrating world of dealing with decades-old analog electronics, and there are different paths to digitally producing music.
UVM junior N’Kosi Edwards has taken one of these alternative paths, choosing to produce with a modern MIDI controller – the AKAI MPK Mini 2 – and a Digital Audio Workstation, Logic Pro.
“[Producing] is something I’ve been wanting to do for a while,” Edwards said, “and once I saw young producers like Young Chop getting big I thought, ‘maybe I should start making beats, that looks kinda fun.’”
For Edwards, the desire to produce came hand-in-hand with his love of rapping. “I’ve always been infatuated with how people could twist words in hip-hop,” he said, “which is why artists like BIG Krit were always an inspiration, because he made his own music and rapped over it.”
The increased accessibility and popularity of making music has not gone unnoticed for Edwards. “I know a lot of people that rap and make music,” he said, “like my friend Louis that got signed to a record label. I get a lot of inspiration from people like him, that are just doing their own thing.”
Edwards also shares the opinion that the more accessible music is, the better.
“If it wasn’t for that I probably wouldn’t be making beats, so I have to give thanks that it’s so much more accessible now,” he said.
Edwards’s use of only one MIDI controller is something he surely couldn’t imagine before he got started producing. “Back in the day, when I didn’t know much about it, I thought I would need a whole bunch of equipment,” he said.
The only downside that Edwards could see with increased accessibility is that “it has definitely given people the ability to mass produce a lot of crappy music, but who’s to even say that? People might say my music is crappy,” he said.
Digital music production has come an unspeakably long way since that first Chamberlin Rhythmate went on sale in 1957, and there’s certainly no end in sight. Digital music tech has gone from that ancient Rhythmate with only 14 drum patterns, to Digital Audio Workstations with thousands of samples built in, with the ability to download an almost infinite number of additional sounds.
It’s gone from the first digital sampler—the Linn LM-1 Drum Computer—costing $5,000 upon its release in 1980, to MIDI controllers like N’Kosi Edwards’s AKAI MPK Mini 2, which costs as little as $100 on eBay.
It’s gone from expensive analog tape recorders that added unwanted white noise with every recording, to programs like GarageBand, offering a far superior recording experience for free on any Mac computer.
In short, it’s easy to see why digital music production has become so much more common and accessible in the last few years: it’s more intuitive, cheap and advanced than it has ever been before.
And with that, there’s more music available now than there has ever been. And even if that means there’s now more crappy music out there than ever before, statistically there has to also be more great music out there than ever before, right? In order to enrich your life by checking out the amazing music these great artists make, I strongly encourage you to check out their respective online libraries. For some soul-touching, emotionally-rich indie grooves, listen to Holden Jaffe’s super-group Del Water Gap on Spotify, iTunes, or Bandcamp (https://delwatergap.bandcamp.com/), and be on the lookout for their upcoming EP! For some futuristic yet old-school raps and instrumentals, check out N’Kosi Edwards on Soundcloud at https://soundcloud.com/nkosi11. Unfortunately, Mike G’s music is yet to be published online, but be on the lookout for his gritty, 90s hip-hop greatness hitting the internet’s airwaves in the near future.
Snapping their fingers under lights of purple, blue, and yellow hues, Julia Spelman, Lilly Dukich and Erika Polner spend the majority of a Friday night set perfecting harmonies as a powerful vocal trio, while reserving a few songs for solo performances highlighting individual strengths.
Rose Street Collective, a new band consisting of five UVM students, surrounds the three singers while playing songs the group has meticulously mastered.
Filling two venues in one weekend, the Skinny Pancake and Radio Bean, the Collective shares their own perspective on jazz by playing both original and familiar tunes.
Since November, the band has played about 10 shows and is quickly becoming a staple of the Burlington music scene.
The magic of Rose Street Collective lies in their ability to pay tribute to the history of jazz by taking the audience through a dynamic tour of the genre, from Wes Montgomery’s “West Coast Blues” to a nostalgic yet energetic rendition of Sound of Music’s “My Favorite Things” and, finally, covers of today’s hit indie songs.
The band consists of Adam Sullivan on keys, Ian Mack on guitar, Kevin Nikolaides on bass, Ethan Shafron on drums, and Rayne Bick playing the alto sax.
Members share a respect for jazz’s rich history, a reverence that resurged years after taking lessons as kids.
“It has always been a part of our lives, even when we didn’t realize it,” Spelman said.
Most of the members met through the UVM jazz ensemble, while Mack and Bick connected with the group later on through mutual friends.
The ensemble helped them further develop their skills and the group quickly became eager to branch out from campus once they recognized their common love of many different genres of music, from soul to funk to rock.
The group’s ultimate goal was to mimic their favorite musicians, incorporating classical jazz standards into the modern music they listen to.
Their interpretation of funk group Vulfpeck’s hit song “Back Pocket” illustrates this perfectly as they replace keys with an alto sax and turn the volume up, taking the song to a new level.
While it may seem that there is a meticulous strategy to their setlist, it mostly just pays tribute to the songs they all love, which they compile into a Spotify collaborative playlist or suggest via Facebook messenger, Shafron said.
Nikolaides uses Google Sheets faithfully in order to avoid chaos, keeping ideas and song choices organized.
At the show, the band members seemed completely in their element on stage, exchanging glances and smiles in the midst of their solos.
They’re quickly making their way from one Burlington venue to the next each weekend, which helps to immerse them into the “hopping” music community, Spelman said.
To keep up with their movements, the band suggests liking them on Facebook and possibly following their Instagram in the near future, Shafron said. They have a show this coming Thursday, February 16th at Radio Bean, 11:00 pm.
It’s no secret that Burlington is a creative community — this much can be understood by simply looking at jackets and backpacks Burlingtonians embellish with the Grateful Dead logo.
In an attempt to better understand Burlington’s artistic spirit, I reached out to a number of local artists and creators to get their insights on what makes Burlington’s art scene so special.
Creativity is displayed on every corner of this little city, which is home to a thriving, diverse and constantly evolving artistic community.
“What has remained the same over the last 30 years is that there’s always been this naive excitement, artists have been excited to create,” said Christy Mitchell, the south end’s S.P.A.C.E Gallery owner and founder.
During our interview, I found myself schmoozing with Mitchell in a conversation that felt more like a friendly chat over lunch than an interview.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the twelve studio spaces in the gallery where there lay a barely-organized cornucopia of brushes, paints, and papers.
They were scattered around a desk that was surrounded on all sides by massive, in-progress works of art.
Mitchell’s inclusion of artist studios in her gallery was in response to an epidemic of Burlington gallery closings due to of financial troubles.
Her solution to this problem was to use the rent she collected from the studio spaces to cover the overhead costs of keeping the gallery open.
“The art scene in Burlington seems positive and inclusive; I think the only problem is people not knowing about things going on,” Mitchell said.
With this model, her space is one that can stick around regardless of art sales, Mitchell said.
Local artist and sculptor, Beth Robinson, a self-proclaimed fan of the S.P.A.C.E. Gallery, praised Mitchell’s unique business model. Robinson has been exhibiting and working at the gallery since its beginnings in 2009, she said.
“Christy’s answer to the financial problems of a gallery was brilliant, it means she doesn’t need to display only commercially-viable art which opens up a lot more possibilities for people to express themselves,” Robinson said.
Her relationship with the S.P.A.C.E. became more unique during her second year at the gallery, when she began to curate an annual Halloween show.
Robinson’s first Halloween show consisted only of friends who were “dark artists,” a title she gave to others whose art explored horrific themes.
During her second year, Robinson opened the show up to submissions from the public, and received over 200 entries. The show grew in size and popularity each year, and is now consistently one of the S.P.A.C.E. Gallery’s most successful and lucrative events.
“It’s insane how excited people get about it,” Robinson said.
Another huge name in Burlington is the Burlington City Arts Center, a central institution in the community for artists and exhibitionists alike.
To get an insider’s perspective on the world of BCA, I sat down with local painter and UVM art professor Cami Davis.
“The community has exploded since I returned from graduate school in the early ‘80s,” Davis said. “Once upon a time, all the artists knew each other, it was such a small community.”
Davis’s view of the Burlington scene contrasted with the view of newer Burlingtonians.
They described the community as small and tight-knit. While described she said she thought of it as more of a large, creative, and diverse community.
I then asked Davis about her experience with exhibiting at BCA, a topic she seemed ecstatic to discuss.
“I found it to be one of the most interesting venues that I’ve ever participated in, mainly because it had such a sense of community,” she said of her recent installation at BCA: “Airs, Waters, Soils (Places).”
The installation displayed a series of jars filled with water, soil, stone and plant samples taken from Lake Champlain and its tributaries in an attempt to explore “issues pertaining to clean water in the Lake Champlain Basin,” according to Davis’ website.
The jars were accompanied by large, expansive paintings that used a color palette of earth and water tones in order to connect and interact with the water samples.
“To me, BCA is so effective in connecting artists to the community,” Davis said. After hearing such a favorable view of BCA, I met with the director and head curator of the gallery — Heather Ferrell — to see how she views BCA’s place in the Burlington community.
While exhibiting my power of terrible timing, I managed to meet with Ferrell three hours before her first ever opening reception for her exhibition.
Despite having tons of little things to fix before the big opening, she still made time to chat about her gallery and its place in Burlington’s tight-knit artistic community.
“The art scene is a thriving and vibrant hotbed of activity that’s very impressive for a city this size,” Ferrell said, “it’s one of the things that attracted me to this position and relocating my family here to Burlington.”
BCA makes numerous efforts to aid local artists and the community as a whole, she said.
“BCA helps artists with presenting exhibitions, supporting artists financially, helping sell their work, organizing off-site exhibitions and connecting artists and community,” Ferrell said.
Considering she is making so many efforts to help out other people in the community, it’s no surprise Ferrell said she felt the community feel made the art better.
“I don’t see this as a competitive environment, I see it as one that’s environmentally rich,” she said.
Upon arriving at the show that night, I saw just how tight-knit the Burlington arts community was.
On the first floor was a photography exhibition on the American South by Shane Lavalette entitled “One Sun, One Shadow.”
In the corner, I saw Lavalette discussing his work with a group of locals.
Wylie Sofia Garcia’s “With My Voice, I Am Calling You Home,” a painting exhibit that focused on themes of domesticity, meditation, and personal place-making occupied the gallery’s second floor.
A group of strangers were comparing the use of diverse arrays of color palettes throughout the paintings.
In the mixed-media show on the gallery’s top floor entitled “The Past Present” by Molly Bosley and Athena Petra Tasiopoulos, artists sought to explore humanity and its relationship with history.
Passionate discussions about the pieces and their possible meanings continued, and I ran into Mitchell, a pleasantly surprising crossing-of-paths that further illustrated just how tight-knit and interconnected the Burlington art community is.
After speaking with so many vital and active members of the Burlington arts community, attending a major artistic function and exploring a number gallery spaces I had never seen before, I can say with some confidence that the Burlington art community is truly as warm, inviting, tight-knit, and ambitious as everyone said.
Not once did any person I talked to mention ever feeling ostracized, intimidated, or unwelcome among their fellow artists.
Time and time again, I heard stories of being welcomed without question, consistently receiving support from fellow artists, and never sensing the slightest bit of competitive nature.
Our artistic community is not only something Burlingtonians should feel proud of, it’s a community we should give back to, a community we should support, and a community we should all strive to join.
Jack Dolan and his bandmates have been around the block.
Touring together since high school, Dolan’s band Twin Peaks released their third studio album in May. After hitting the West Coast and Europe on tour, they are making their first appearance in Burlington on Dec. 5.
The band’s roots are in Chicago, where they grew up attending and playing DIY shows in basements all around town. “We grew up going to shows hearing music that became a big part of our music,” said Dolan.
“There’s really no one true sound here,” he said, “all your peers grow up and have different styles but still stay true to Chicago.”
During their time on the road, the band seems to have found their place in the bigger picture of contemporary music. “You get midwest cities like Madison and Milwaukee doing hardcore punk, New York with their hip underground scene,” he said.
“In Europe you get a lot more disco stuff but then places like Madrid that are really into rock,” said Dolan, “Madrid’s the shit.”
Though they’ve traveled from Paris to the Pacific Northwest, the band keeps the midwest in mind. “We just went to see Hoops from Bloomington, they’re awesome,” said Dolan. “Broncho, too–the last record they put out was super underrated,” he said of the Norman, Oklahoma natives.
Dolan and his bandmate Cadien Lake James attended high school with fellow Chicagoan Chancellor Johnathan Bennett, known as Chance the Rapper, as well. “We’ve always stayed in touch with him and took note of all the good things he does for the city,” he said.
The band recently played a voting rally downtown with Bennett, marching to the polls with thousands of locals on Election Day. “Tensions were interesting out in the city, it was a little intimidating,” said Dolan.
They have been vocal about recent political developments, but Dolan insists on staying diplomatic. “It’s easy to get hung up and shit on a bunch of conservative states,” he said.
“We play in front of great people who come out in small towns, it feels good to play rock and roll in a place where they need it.”
After their short stint touring the heartland, the band is heading east to tour with their latest album. “Down in Heaven” is a swirling trip of classic rock riffs, hazy harmonies, and subtle nods to classic motown with brass on several tracks. Slow-burners are balanced by their playful lyrics and signature slacker indie.
“A lot of the new songs are more low-key,” Dolan said, “but we’re challenging ourselves, we’re trying to refine a bit by doing a lot more harmonies.”
The album has a distinctly slower pace and ripe soul to it, a slight departure from the hectically emotive “Wild Onion” days, and even further from the melancholy, quasi-grunge character of “Sunken.”
“I don’t know about the other guys but I’ve been listening to a lot of D’Angelo lately,” Dolan joked.
Whether they’re playing mellow, folksy slow jams or fired-up rock songs, listening to Twin Peaks is a blast. Catch them playing Signal Kitchen with Golden Daze and together PANGEA on Monday at 8:00 pm.
Skateboarding is set to be in the 2020 summer Olympics in Tokyo. I’m confused. The Olympics are for usually for sports, and skateboarding can’t be a sport. Seeing skateboarding in the olympics is akin to McDonald’s offering dry cleaning. Skateboarding can’t be a sport, sports have clear objectives and points. In a basketball game, everyone knows what they should be doing: trying their darndest to get the ball in the net. When they do, they don’t wonder what happens next, they know they will get points for it.
Skateboarding is nothing like that. Skateboards don’t come with instructions. Some people choose to use a skateboard purely as transportation. Some people decide to ride huge boards exclusively down steep hills. Some people aim only to flip their board in complex ways. Some people strive to hop down huge sets of stairs. The only wrong way to approach skateboarding is to not approach it.
There are no points in skateboarding. When I landed my first ollie, there wasn’t a scoreboard flashing numbers at me. There’s no way to score skateboarding. Some people can naturally do things without trying, while it might take someone else years to learn. That one guy at the skatepark that’s struggling to kickflip may turn around and do something twice as hard.
Sports encourage competition. Competition encourages animosity and hostility amongst competitors. Every time a team celebrates scoring a goal, there’s another team that hates them for doing it. Skateboarding is the opposite: it encourages camaraderie and friendship. When I see someone do some trick I’ve always wanted to do, I can’t be mad at them, I can only be excited for them.
Calling skateboarding a sport is like calling a grilled cheese a burger. Or calling high heels tennis shoes. Or calling 9 hours of sleep a nap. While they may share some minor similarities,the connection is not quite there. I propose a new word, something to signify an activity that requires physical exertion and developed skills, but does not contain an inherent goal or point system. How about ‘hobby’? Skateboarding is a hobby. I’m all for making an Olympics of hobbies, but I’d like to keep skateboarding out of the current hyper-jockish, athlete-childhood-extinguishing Olympic culture.
“I’m trying to wrangle everyone into a group costume…but it’s a secret!,” said And The Kids frontwoman Hannah Mohan. Mohan and her bandmates are gearing up for a two-night run at Signal Kitchen Thursday and Friday, excitedly rallying friends and assembling outfits for the weekend’s festivities.
“We love playing in Vermont, there are so many amazing bands playing with us,” Mohan said, “I have all my best friends so it’s really fun.”
The band has been touring with their new album, “Friends Share Lovers,” for the better part of 2016, and are finishing off the year with shows in the U.S., Canada and Europe. They’re coming back home to New England with friends to see and old times to revisit.
Mohan hails from western Massachusetts, where she and the band spent their formative years living in tents, playing residencies and growing together. “When we started the band, we decided ‘ok, no jobs for us, we’re not gonna pay rent,’” Mohan said. “We found this piece of land in Hadley right on the [Connecticut] river and payed this guy 100 bucks a month to live on the property while we were on tour.”
With a makeshift practice space crafted from a Pods container, Mohan and drummer Rebecca Lasaporano roughed it during the band’s inception. Mohan testified to the importance of place in her life ever since, which seeps into her music as well.
“I’m a cancer and our whole thing is we revolve around home,” she said. “I’m also a crab, so my home is on my back. There’s a huge inspiration for me to write about habitat.”
Even on tour, Mohan’s connection to place inspires her. “Out of nowhere, I loved Madison, Wisconsin,” she said, “I got really attached — we bought a tape deck at this vintage store, I just really didn’t want to leave.”
Anchoring to home has been problematic for And The Kids, too, as Canadian synth player Megan Miller’s visa troubles have kept her from touring with the band in the U.S. “We wrote “Friends Share Lovers” before our keyboard player got deported, so there are some songs about her,” Mohan said, “we had to come up with power songs we could play as a two piece.”
Despite Miller’s absence on tour, she is anything but missing from the album. Her synth riffs float through the album’s most atmospheric tracks, like “Creeper” and “Picture” with exquisite and ethereal spookiness.
“Creeper is my favorite because of Megan’s fucking synth part at the end,” Mohan said.
“We went deeper into the ocean of experimenting with sonic shit on this album,” she said, “We recorded it on tape, too, so that’s fucking amazing.”
The album is nebulous and playful, resounding with anxious emotion and confusion, yet remarkable sophistication. “We were trying to have more of a concept linking all the songs on this one,” said Mohan.
Along with strikingly evocative sounds is And The Kids’ glittering and gorgeous album art by Brooklyn, New York artist Chase Carlisle.
“Aesthetics are really difficult because we have different visions, some of us want a more mature look and some want sketchy drawings,” Mohan said. “Now I just want fucking gorgeous stuff that doesn’t take two seconds to make.”
“I’m gonna hang out with a bunch of my friends and go to my old house in Colchester, maybe build a fire,” Mohan said. “We’re trying to make a music video with Joey Pizza Slice too, he makes awesome VHS videos.”
Gone, sadly, is their trademark inflatable deer, Andrea, that Mohan rescued from the woods in Washington, D.C.
“Andrea the deer…she had a really rough tour with Ra Ra Riot and she’s kind of out of commission now,” she said. Regardless, And The Kids has incredible music, lovable antics and a guaranteed sprinkling of glitter to offer when they return to Vermont. Catch the band at 8:30 p.m. Oct. 27 and 28 at Signal Kitchen and in the station at WRUV Friday at noon.
‘70s rock and roll lives on, and not just on Beatles-filled throwback playlists. With sweet harmonies and classic three-chord guitar rhythms, Ontario based rock outfit the Sheepdogs are reviving the genre’s golden years.
The band released their fifth studio album “Future Nostalgia” last year, and is set to play Signal Kitchen May 4.
“Future Nostalgia” is chock full of crisp and sunny windows-down rock and roll, immediately evoking the southern rock of Lynyrd Skynyrd and the Allman Brothers. All the while, neo-blues tracks like “Darryl & Dwight” align the band with fellow rock revivalists like the Black Keys.
Ewan Curie, the Sheepdogs’ lead singer, spoke about the band’s preference for older sounds. “I don’t really like modern rock, so I don’t want to sound like it,” Curie said, “I think rock and roll should be more fun than it is.”
For Curie, making music isn’t about doing something that hasn’t been done. “We’re going to keep on playing the music that we love,” he said, “People can play whatever they want and hopefully find an audience for it.”
At the same time, the Sheepdogs aren’t set out to be a cover band. “We love all these acts, but we’re not just trying to be the Stones,” Curie said.
In terms of influences, Curie sticks to the greats. He said Led Zeppelin and Crosby, Stills and Nash are two of his favorites. “With Zeppelin, you get the power of blues rock; with CSN you get a singer-songwriter sound but still a band that rocks,” Curie said.
He said he seeks to strike a balance between the two ends of the classic rock spectrum, landing somewhere between explosive riff-driven tracks and light, folksy jams. “We work really hard on our singing—we want to record songs that connect with people on a personal level,” Curie said.
While he holds rock renaissance acts dear, contemporary bands like Wilco and My Morning Jacket are among the bands he loves. “I admire them for sticking to their guns and making the music how the way they want to,” Curie said.
“[Wilco] might have had a moment when they were a hip and cool new band, but they just kind of do what they want,” he said.
The idea of doing what they want, how they want to do it, seems to be a defining aspect of the Sheepdogs. “We play the music we love, and we’re gonna keep on playing it,” Curie said.
After cutting their last album in a secluded cottage on an Ontario lake, he said the band is refocused and ready to head out on another tour. Come this fall, the band will begin work on their sixth studio album which, at the pace the band is going, will likely become a new classic.
“Myths and old stories feel unresolved. You want to explain them,” Taylor Smith told me as we sat down to discuss Burlington folk duo Cricket Blue’s new EP “Io.”
Their new EP opens as Smith and the duo’s other half Laura Heaberlin softly croon: “When the woods were full of wolves, the girls tied back their hair. They covered up their hands because it gave away their age.”
With this first track, “Angela Carter,” Heaberlin said they were “emulating Angela Carter’s weird fractured fairytales.”
Carter’s fiction, with its combination of feminism and magical realism, is the perfect fit for Cricket Blue’s mythological folk.
This desire to explore and complicate traditional myths and fairytales is an undercurrent in much of Cricket Blue’s music, from earlier work like “Forsythia,” a love story set in the garden of Eden, to “Angela Carter’s” investigation of what lurks after the words “once upon a time.”
Their lyrics read like missives from another time or place. They remind the listener that the myths and stories they were raised on often have a dark underbelly lurking behind their apparent innocence.
“I think I have sort of a tendency to mythologize places,” Smith said.
This attention to place is evident on “Kentucky,” a song inspired by the state where Smith spent his formative years. He both wrote the lyrics and arranged an impressive cello part for the song.
Lyrics like “lost like a boy with his lord bound around him with cords” and “the staff and the rod of the terror of God have finally gotten to you” are almost visceral in the way the violence they discuss is made concrete through metaphor.
However, even at their most melancholic, Cricket Blue does not make music for cynics. In “Kentucky,” kernels of hope glimmer as Smith and Heaberlin sing wistfully: “Let all that is old be made new.”
Unlike Smith, who is more influenced by place, Heaberlin said she thinks she is more influenced by the theme of time when she writes.
““For me, it’s not so much place, as era,” Heaberlin. “I write in the past a lot.”
The influence of past eras on Cricket Blue’s work are obvious not only in their fondness for myth but in their song “Eleanor,” a ballad of young wife who has an affair when her husband ships off to war.
One of Smith’s personal favorites of the album, the song exemplifies the eerie and complex harmonies that make Cricket Blue so intriguing.
Although “Io” has much in common with their previous work – the attention to mythological detail, the bluesy orchestration, the recurrence of the figure of “Eve” (“because feminism,” Heaberlin quipped) – it also is a departure from their previous work.
This is the first album the duo has recorded in studio, and because of this they were able to collaborate with other musicians and had access to more resources than they have had in the past.
“We were a little worried about bringing a creative partner in, but it was wonderful,” Smith said of their experience working with Beehive Productions.
Thematically, “Io” is more “character driven,” than their previous EP Heaberlin told me.
Named after a myth where Zeus pursued a woman against her will, only to transform her into a cow in order to hide her from his wife, “Io”takes up the plight of the downtrodden and trapped.
“We were writing about characters who had lost agency in one way or another,” Heaberlin said.
From the fairytale women who so often are reduced to archetypes, to Eleanor the suffocated 1950s housewife, to the namesake of their album, Cricket Blue uses their music to provide a voice to those who have been rendered voiceless.
This reclamation of agency is what makes their music so interesting to return to. You’re lulled in by the sweetness of their melodies that are reminiscent of traditional Appalachian folk or literary indie rock like Andrew Bird and find yourself suddenly surprised by the epiphanies that their songs so often crescendo to.
“We haven’t run out of stuff. We don’t get sick of each other,” Heaberlin said when I asked what it was like to work with Smith. “Io”is something else you can count on not getting sick of. The EP is replete with literary and mythological references that don’t yield themselves up upon first listen. “Io”begs to be played over and over.
It’s a strange feeling to hop in your car for a short ride and suddenly be in another country. It’s a little like slipping through some Fairyland portal to an alternate dimension where everyone speaks French, the money is multicolored, and teenagers can go to bars. Only Fairyland is just Canada — and it’s a little chilly.
As my friends and I stumble stiff-legged out of our VW bug after an hour and a half car ride, a bright, crisp Montreal afternoon greets us. There’s still slush in the streets, but the sunshine makes up for that, and everyone is in high spirits as we make our way through the neighborhood to retrieve the key for our Airbnb apartment.
The key retrieval requires us to follow a series of Kafkaesque instructions involving hidden mailboxes, multiple sets of keys, and cryptic directions. But somehow, my rusty French skills manage to get us where we’re going.
None of us have ever used Airbnb, so we had some reservations about our health, safety, and sanity. Aside from a mysterious chicken bone on the bathroom floor and a closet that looks designed for hiding corpses, the apartment is nice. And we especially like the heated floors.
Travelling on a college student’s budget can be tricky, but resources like Airbnb can make it much easier. You get a more authentic feel for a place because you’re in a residential area instead of the main tourist traps. And most importantly, you don’t have to shell out tons of cash for a sterile hotel room–our studio apartment only cost $35.00 for two nights.
After appreciating the amenities at our temporary home, we brave the Canadian wind again to go exchange money. It took us a while to figure out where to do this, but bus stations are usually your best bet. Although some places in Canada do take American money, and you can use your debit card, it’s worth exchanging some cash — if only because Canadian money is about a million times cooler than ours. Plus, the exchange rate is great right now at $1.28 Canadian dollars to one U.S. dollar.
There’s lots to explore in Montreal, but we decide to make the Latin Quarter our home base. Close to McGill University, the neighborhood is popular among college students and is packed with restaurants, cafes, shops, and clubs.
We grab dinner at a local pub, Le Saint-Bock, which I highly recommend. It’s casual enough for us to feel comfortable in jeans, and it sports a diverse crowd of patrons. Wedged at a little table, we’re surrounded by a mix of businessmen, families, married couples, and 20-somethings starting a night on the town. Saint-Bock boasts an impressive 31-page beer list, but we were mainly there for the poutine. If there’s a happy way to have a heart attack, it’s that Quebecois concoction of fries, gravy, and gooey melted cheese curds.
When you tell people you’re going to Montreal for the weekend, you get knowing looks, usually accompanied by the question — “You’re not 21, right?” and a sly chuckle. And there’s no denying the city is known for its nightlife, so after dinner we slip into our going-out clothes and force our bemused friend, Mike, to take an excessive number of pictures of us.
There are plenty of well-known, bustling clubs in Montreal, but we opt to take the road less travelled and explore some smaller joints. One of my favorites is En Cachette Speakeasy, an underground bar set back off of Rue St. Denis. Inside, hardwood floors and slick, brocade wallpaper shimmer in the candlelight. Small armchairs, tables, and settees dot the room while people mingle and chat over the thud of catchy French pop hits.
Also not to be missed is La Distillerie. We huddle outside with our fellow explorers, waiting to get in, eagerly eyeing the warm interior. La Distillerie serves Goldfish, popcorn, and an extensive selection of cocktails organized by taste and strength. I found myself wondering what more you could need, since Goldfish basically constitute my ideal meal.
If you’re looking for live music instead of the pulse of recorded bass, do yourself a favor and swing by Bistro a JoJo. Also on Rue Saint Denis, the Blues Bar features an array of cool musicians and performers that have the entire room dancing and stomping their feet in time.
The next day, we take on the city with renewed energy. We spend the afternoon at Montreal’s Museum of Fine Arts, which is currently featuring a stunning exhibition on Pompeii with artifacts on loan from many collectors. Regardless of the exhibition, though, the museum is worth a visit. A glass ceiling refracts light throughout the lobby, and slate stairs wind between galleries. Plants line an upstairs walkway, spilling from their pots and framing a panoramic view of the city’s skyline.
I spend most of my time trailing through the upstairs art galleries, working my way from the medieval era’s anatomically questionable baby Jesuses, to Baroque portraits with gilt frames, to haunting 19th century paintings of shipwrecks.
After I am dragged away from multiple tempting gift shops, we treat ourselves to Italian food at a restaurant we have yet to be able to find on any maps. The walls are bedecked with various nationalistic regalia, and all the lightbulbs have been replaced with red and green colored lights. A very large, very fake tree looms over our table. Whether this place really exists or was just a figment of our over-tired, hungry minds, I can promise you the tortellini is to die for.
The next morning is our last in Montreal, so we start where any self-respecting person would: a cat cafe. Le Cafe des Chats is home to several adorable felines and an incredible number of vegan pastries. I really don’t think I need to provide you with more incentive to go there. I spend entirely too long eating my delicious herb-grilled cheese because I keep getting distracted by the cats jumping on the tables, basking in the morning sunshine, and chasing each other around the cafe.
Our final stop before we leave the city is Mont Royal Park, described as “the jewel of the city’s parks.” We hike up to an overlook that takes in the whole city. It’s a beautiful day that hints at spring, and it seems like the whole city is out with us. Little kids swing from their parents’ hands, couples shyly stop to kiss as they stroll up the hill, and people perch precariously on the overlook wall laughing, jostling each other, and posing for selfies. We take a short walk around the park before reluctantly piling back into the car. Someone mentions something about class tomorrow and we all groan. Even though we’re only a short drive away from campus, dorm life, and homework, last Friday seems like a decade ago.
“I bet Mont Royal is beautiful in the fall,” someone says as we wind our way down the hill.
“Yeah, dude, we should come back in the fall!”
“We could come up for a weekend this summer, probably.” We are planning our next trip before we even cross back over the border, content for now to upload our pictures and start our reading for class, but already eagerly looking forward to our next adventure.
The arts, lifestyle and culture blog of the Vermont Cynic