Soulful, Danceable and Real, Groovincible Plans to Get You Moving with Their New Album

If you are ever in search of a vocalist and partner in crime, you might try spotting the flyest girl in the bar and asking her to sing for you. The odds that she will deliver are slim. But it must have been Matt Klee’s lucky night, because Bianca Wright sang him a song she wrote that left an impression, and the two have been side by side musically and romantically ever since.

Three years later, Wright and Klee joined Jacob Gleason to form Groovincible in 2011 in Klee’s garage in Fair Oaks. The idea was to put Wright’s voice at the forefront of the band, with Klee on drums, Gleason on guitar and tenor sax and Wright on the mic, shared with Gleason. Prior, Gleason and Klee bonded over tacos and hours spent in the backseat of a crusty old tour van during the 2009 Hippy Feet tour with Sacramento’s well-known fusion band ZuhG. Each have been involved in other musical projects, including ZuhG, but after Wright performed as a guest singer on Free Love, ZuhG’s self-released album, the three broke away to form Groovinicible, allowing them an opportunity to write their own material.

Now, after wrapping up their self-titled debut album recorded at Pus Cavern Studios (currently available for purchase and streaming online) they are prepping for their CD release show, which is on Saturday, July 27 at Blue Lamp. They have also added on three members: Tony Marks on bass, Sam Phelps on keys and Edward Hurff on baritone sax.

If you’re limited on words, you could say Groovincible is somewhere in the funk/soul/jazz realm, with moments of rock. Their aim is to keep things grooving, interesting and danceable, hence “Groovincible.” Those are the words that Gleason offered up during a phone interview with him and Wright. But that’s just brushing the surface.

For those who like to turn on a dynamic album and listen the whole way through, Groovincible is for you. Just when you think you’ve heard it all, the band pulls something else out of their sleeve, whether its ethereal harmonies or tempo changes and distortion.

In the span of 43 minutes laid over 12 tracks, Groovincible throws one drop (the reggae groove), Klezmer, tablas (Indian drums) and distorted sax into the mix. Of the 12, only four are under five minutes in length, and two of the songs are broken up over two tracks. That’s just how Gleason writes, with at least three “parts” per song.

As he explains it, a song amounts to “whatever amount of time it takes to express the idea,” whether it’s five minutes or 30.

This album evolved out of several months of Klee and Gleason jamming in Klee’s garage. Everything was recorded. At the end of the recording sessions they cut out whatever didn’t sound good from each track, leaving behind the cream of the crop to make up the songs. Gleason actually ended up cutting out a lot of guitar, leaving “implied” guitar parts in a number of songs while layering saxophone, keys, bass and flute.

The exception was a “magical take” of “Bari Krishna,” recorded in one go. “Bari Krishna,” with the overlap of fluttering guitar and horn segments, brings to mind a chase scene in a spy film, blazing through alleys in a getaway car in Cairo or Kabul.

Other songs, such as opening track “Downtown Shindig” or “Punk Step,” could easily sound off during one of Quentin Taratino’s killing sprees.

As far as Gleason is concerned, if their songs have cinematic flavor, then they are succeeding.

Aside from “Bari Krishna,” which is instrumental, Gleason and Wright wrote the vocals over the songs, with Wright penning a lot of the hooks and choruses, and adding a soulful touch.

“A lot of people homogenize soul, R&B and hip-hop,” Wright says. “But when people are singing they’re really pushing for what they’re inspired by… My lyrical style is more soulful.”

She takes her cues from the likes of Jill Scott and Erykah Badu.

Beyond recording, Wright’s feminine energy is critical to the band, Gleason says.

As Wright sees it, she contributes both nurturing and vulnerable elements to the band, particularly during live performances.

“If I’m going to be up there on stage, then I like everything I do to be ‘real,’” Wright explains. “I like to set the vibe and be comfortable with people, looking at people, looking at who I’m singing to.”

While Wright brings the soul, it is apparent that Gleason brings the glue. Or is the glue, when it comes to the band. That includes music theory and recording.

“I live, eat and dream music,” he says.

While it’s definitely not an unusual thing to hear coming from a musician, it doesn’t feel like false advertising. He’s one of those who got an early start in music theory, coming from an upbringing where instruments and encouragement were consistently available, starting with mom breaking out the pans, to a keyboard, saxophone and eventually a guitar. By age 15 he was in his first rock band, and music has been an everyday part of life ever since.

“I sit on my ass and watch Game of Thrones once in a while,” he confesses.

Beyond that, however, time boils down to songwriting and performing.

However they manage to do it, between Gleason, Wright and Klee and those who have hopped on board since, Groovincible has developed an unmistakable sound.

“We’re just a bunch of people who make noise together,” Gleason says. “We get to play music we love with people we love.”

Whether or not Klee realized it at the time, he was doing everyone a favor when he asked Wright to sing.

Groovincible’s CD Release show is Saturday, July 27, 2013 at Blue Lamp (1400 Alhambra Blvd). Also performing will be Tao Jiriki and Brian Rogers. $10 cover includes the new Groovincible CD. Doors open at 8 p.m., show starts at 9 p.m., 21-and-over only. For more information visit Groovincible.com

Not many bands sport a badge of longevity inching toward eight years, but plenty of musicians can include their names in the pages of Be Brave Bold Robot’s local history. With roughly 23 former players fondly dubbed “Forever Members,” BBBR is a staple in the folk scene for good reason. If mad scientist, Dean Haakenson, hears you can play an instrument and likes you as a person, you can write your way into his project…forever.

My night with Be Brave Bold Robot did not begin with an unsettling ride to West Sacramento in Haakenson’s Technicolor Volkswagen Bug, but a few points of interest are worth a mention prior to him offering a lift in his shrunken, two-seater Partridge Family bus of a VW. As follows: I snuck into an empty warehouse along with the band and a photographer for a photo shoot. Cut my hand lifting a giant disco ball. There was a potato sack race. Haakenson sweated through two shirts. No one discovered us. No one was handcuffed or fined for trespassing. No vandalism occurred. My palm only bled for a minute.

But in Haakenson’s gutted and rusted VW, I sat shotgun to a man who rolled down the driver side window with a pair of pliers and casually talked of how his car, a present from his mom, stalled regularly as we took the Highway 50 on-ramp headed toward West Sacramento. I thought of the band’s moniker as he shimmied the VW into traffic and it strained its way to the speed limit. Be brave.

We arrived safely to Haakenson’s home, and I was ready for a beer, for there is no finer way to gain a stranger’s trust or settle one’s nerves after relinquishing your own fate into his hands. Haakenson and his drummer Michael Ruiz claimed two of the four mysterious wheelchairs on the back patio–why does one man have so many? The rest of us (bassist Matty Gerken, viola player Catie Turner and saxophonist Jacob Gleason) sat in metal chairs or benches with microbrews in hand. Like all interviews, the awkward phase deteriorated and stories were flung freely, which led to how one becomes one of those Forever Members listed on Facebook. Over the years Haakenson developed a simple criterion: play four shows. It may take four consecutive shows, or it could take eight years, but until you’ve played four you are not an official Forever Member.

“It’s a credit to Sacramento to have so many people I’ve met over a number of years join me,” he said and he was right.

To my left sat Jacob Gleason, soft spoken most of the night, but he was first to share his admiration for Dean that led to joining Be Brave Bold Robot. It began with loving the first self-titled record and led to Gleason “[bugging] Dean enough that he finally started letting me play with him.” Going around the table, Catie Turner joined after seeing BBBR live and striking up a post-set conversation with Haakenson, who upon learning she played viola gave her a recording and let her write herself into the music. She’s been a member since.

“He was like, ‘You should play on my record,’ and I said, ‘You’ve never even heard me play,’” she recalled.

“It’s a Dean thing,” she said. “He’s so hands off. He didn’t know me, didn’t know my playing. It was unlike any experience I’ve ever had with an organized band.”

Matty Gerken offered an anecdote on the BBBR’s rotating cast: “One time we played a show at Sac State and in order to play that show we needed to have one Sac State student in the band. So we brought in Chuck; good student, he’s from Iowa, like me. He had enough parts in the songs to get us qualified to play. He was a member for one show.”

Gerken saw Be Brave Bold Robot play based on the name. He caught a Fox and Goose show, went to an after party with the band, which resulted in him mastering the first record. “I sort of learned all the songs from listening to them over and over while mixing them,” Gerken said. “When Tommy [Minnick] the former bass player decided he didn’t want to play anymore, I said, ‘Well, I know all the songs incidentally.’”

Haakenson’s lackadaisical approach stems from understanding his friends and band mates have their own lives and careers. Without the pressures of commitment, being in a band can always be as fun as it sounds. No one’s government job is at risk, no one’s missing PTA meetings and no one’s on heroin to deal with the pressure of stardom. Members come and go and come back again when they have time or miss the fun of being in BBBR.

“It changed my life here,” Turner said, who hadn’t played in a band since leaving San Francisco.

Haakenson exudes gratefulness beyond his once a member, always a member attitude. The tape recorder clicked; side A was over. With everyone in good spirits, we agreed to call it and begin band practice. While guitars were tuned and more beers were emptied into mason jars, Haakenson handed me a copy of 2010’s Take a Deep Breath. He directed me to the living room where the original artwork of Kyle Larsen hung; he had two of Larsen’s pieces. Local writer Josh Fernandez probably doesn’t know it, but he is a cherub muse for BBBR, coining intoxicating limericks that echo through Haakenson’s mind. The new album’s title was partially lifted from Fernandez’s 2008 review, which was recited to me nearly verbatim during our hang out. Fernandez referred to Haakenson as “under a thin sheet of madness,” it led to the title of the band’s upcoming album Under a Thin Veil of Madness.

Under a Thin Veil of Madness began with sessions at Expression College for Digital Arts in Emeryville. “They offer free recordings to bands in exchange for being guinea pigs for their audio recording classes,” Haakenson said. “We went in there for an eight-hour session and got four songs done that are new to this album, and had plenty of time left to record four other songs.”

Going in there was concern of the album being in the hands of pupils, but by the end of their session the band was so close with the students that a kid named Willie Ramsey is doing the Under a Thin Veil of Madness artwork, expanding Dean’s collection of art and adding an honorary band member once again. “I was concerned that we were getting learned on,” Gerken said. “They had an experienced instructor there and it was clear that guy was all business.”

In the eight years of having one of the most recognizable band names in Sacramento, the true source of the moniker eludes Haakenson. He loves that about his band. Before it was his band it was his ‘zine. Prior to the ‘zine it was a graffiti tag by a girl in Arcata, Calif., who claims she saw it done by a San Francisco artist. Some theorize it was lifted from the Isaac Asimov’s science fiction series I, Robot. “I’ll put out a call right now,” Haakenson said. “I’ll pay $100 for the documented source.”

May it always be obscured and tucked in mystery to preserve the legend of Be Brave Bold Robot. It’s apropos to a band that tucks mementos to childhood in its song lyrics and sneaks away from families and responsibilities into a West Sacramento living room to drink, chat and practice like a discovered teenage Never-Never Land.

“I have a child-like way about me, which I think is maybe what makes me endearing to the people I meet on a regular basis,” Haakenson said. “I think I’m OK with confrontation, but I’d much rather make people happy.”

Catch Be Brave Bold Robot when they play Beatnik Studios in Sacramento on Oct. 26, 2012 and celebrate the release of Under a Thin Veil of Madness. Also playing will be Appetite, Cold Eskimo and Buzzmutt. The music for this Final Friday show gets underway at 9 p.m. and there is a $5 to $10 suggested donation.