Admiral Radley Sing Their California Devotion

State pride isn’t a new phenomenon, but the amount of adoration continually grown in and thrown toward California is definitely something to be awed at. It’s a destination, an anchoring point and a wide sprawl of drastically varying landscapes, each mile more breathtaking than the previous. It really is the Golden State, and it comes as no surprise that Admiral Radley would dub their new album I Heart California to openly announce their love for this good western plot.

The four members (Aaron Espinoza and Ariana Murray of the straightforward alt-rockers Earlimart, and Jason Lytle and Aaron Burtch of former country-twangers Grandaddy) were all past-or-present dwellers of the Central Valley, a section of the giant sprawl of California that can be a bit quiet, creatively.

“There’s not a lot of rock ‘n’ roll coming out of there,” Espinoza said.

The two groups bonded over their similar roots and “geographically we made friends,” Espinoza said.

That topographic connection is what led to the eventual merger, later dubbed Admiral Radley. Grandaddy frequently toured through Los Angeles where Espinoza had relocated and would often stay at his home; eventually in return, Grandaddy began to bring Earlimart on the road with them, which created a stronger bond between the two.

“They were super kind enough to take us on tour with them a bunch, and we just became really, really close because of that,” Espinoza said.

After becoming better acquainted, and eventually somewhat of a tight-knit unit, Earlimart and Grandaddy began casually toying with the idea of creating one cohesive project. The collaboration wasn’t a forced decision, more an easy evolvement.

“It all just came together pretty naturally,” Espinoza said. “We all just decided, ‘Hey, why don’t we get together and basically drink beer and make some songs together for a few days,’” Espinoza said.

This was in 2004, at which point they recorded a few rough tracks, when they came across their name, taken from a chance encounter with the man/myth himself, Admiral Radley. The group was in Los Angeles, taking a break from a lackluster session in the studio. They headed to the Hammer Art Museum to check out a Heisuke Kitazawa exhibit, where they were approached by a suited, older man referring to himself as Admiral Radley. After a short bit of conversing–during which the foursome told him some names they were toying with for the band and Murray pulled a splinter from his thumb–he told them, with a prophetic sort of command, they should name themselves after him. They clearly took his advice. The story sounds a little odd, even fictitious, but “in essence, it’s all basically true, so we’re just trying to find him again,” Espinoza said.

While everything seemed to be falling into a kind of pre-aligned place, at the time everyone was waist-deep in their own musical endeavors and couldn’t find parallel pockets of free time to work on the project. Over the last few years, during which Grandaddy disbanded, the four began revisiting the material and eventually all went down to Los Angeles and remixed and added some new parts, resulting in their record, I Heart California.

“Next thing you know we’re in a van going to SXSW,” Espinoza said. “It’s been fun; that’s really truly what it is, it’s fun.”

That defining undertone of “fun” seems to be the lace tying the album together. Carefree songs like “Sunburn Kids” and “I’m All Fucked on Beer” keep a clean sound and consistent pulse, but a relaxed demeanor; the band’s alt-country pedigree is prominent on more ballad-esque songs like “Lonesome Co.”

The album begins with the title track, “I Heart California,” which the record incidentally became centered on. All the Admiral Radley members were born and raised in California, and with little exception have remained residents.

“We’ve always had this fascination with California. I think it is the best state in the country, all of the things it has to offer geographically–deserts and forests and beaches,” Espinoza said. “But on the other side of the coin there’s all this weird shit with politics, crime and homelessness. There’s definitely a seedy side to it as well. On that particular song, Jason’s kind of dabbling on both sides of the coin there.”

While it wasn’t always the intention to conceptualize the album as an homage to California, it just coincidentally suited it.

“It seemed so fitting that the song is such a flat-out great song, that we should sort of put it up front and let it be the poster child for the album,” Espinoza said.

While everyone continues with their own side musical undertakings, Admiral Radley isn’t a project that puts pressure on any one member. There’s no bulk of responsibilities on one person’s shoulders, no single band member in charge.

“There’s no true leader in the band,” Espinoza said. “I’ve never had that experience before. I think it’s cool, if there’s a question, I can legitimately say ‘I don’t know,’ and that’s OK, where as in Earlimart I have to have an answer.”

The album, I Heart California, is scheduled to release July 13, followed by predominately touring the West Coast, but making a few cross-country pit stops in monster hubs like New York. Beyond that, the future of Admiral Radley is unknown, but you’ll always know where to find them…

Matteo’s Pizza & Bistro
5132 Arden Way
Sacramento, California
Words & Photos by Josselin Bassaldu

Oh, October. You are like that boring friend that you forget is so interesting until they let loose and entertain the hell out of you.

How about them apples, October? You make them so sweet and crispy, just in time to be baked with spices to warm away the on-setting winter chills.
You are the sacred month, October, that wraps up the worldwide celebration of foamy, yeasty brews. It does seem to be brews that bring brothers, best friends and even sometimes the begotten together. (I hope you all have enjoyed Oktoberfest.)

Oh October, you’ve outdone yourself this year with some well-needed Sacramento-area restaurant openings. The first of which is yet another contemporary pizza place—not parlor, but a 21st century chic version. Can one city really have too many good pizza places, Sacramentans?

Supper Club owners Matt and Yvette Woolston must have had a similar power-of-good-pizza epiphany and opened Matteo’s Pizza & Bistro Oct. 9 at the Five Points Shopping Center on Arden Way and Fair Oaks Boulevard.

Cashing in on the local connection, I was able to dine at Matteo’s at a discount during one of the three staff training nights Oct. 6-8. By reservation only, guests got a sneak peak into the Matteo’s manifesto. Fellow foodie and writer Pippa (as we’ll call her) was present to challenge my culinary opinions over a bottle of fresh, food friendly and sometimes smoky Huber Hugo Gruner twist-off capped Austrian Veltliner wine.

The menu isn’t huge, but certainly varied. Appetizers, pizzas and pastas are featured, as well as hot and cold sandwiches, soups and salads.

Polenta has become a staple in many restaurants. I’ve seen it in fried balls, grilled with cheese and served creamy alongside portions of meat. But I’ve yet to have polenta fries, so I did at Matteo’s. These thick, crispy and fluffy fries ($6.95) were served with a smoky, mild basil marinara. Polenta can have a way of tasting too much like chicken broth, but the polenta fries had a subtle cornmeal flavor that was highlighted by shavings of very salty asiago cheese. Yum.

Opting for a dish with new culinary components, the Spaniard pizza was interesting but familiar.

Its slightly sweet, smoky and salty flavors were like a super palate surprise. Cured Serrano ham and salty olives (which were supposed to be green, but were Kalamata) complemented the smooth, slightly sweet, sliced fingerling potatoes and Italian basil. Romesco sauce—a Catalonian mix of almonds and hazelnuts, olive oil, garlic and small, dried red pepper—added a hint of mystery to this pizza. The crust, light and of a medium-thin thickness, was prepared in a “top of the line” oven, as our server informed us and gave the pizza a cooked-on-a-campfire kind of woody, charred taste.

Unlike many pizza places, Matteo’s also offers formal bistro-style entrees and vegetarian dishes.

The Tree Hugger BLT left us off-put by its strange name, but intrigued thanks to the use of Portobello mushroom bacon. Served on a whole-wheat walnut sourdough (bread comes from Grateful Bread) with arugala, tomato and white truffle aioli ($8.95), this sandwich could make it easy for anyone to be a vegetarian, according to Pippa. Reminded that quirky author Sloane Crosley boldly and probably accurately stated in her book I Was Told There’d Be Cake, that the one thing that vegetarians miss is bacon.

“Any vegetarian that misses bacon has found their heaven in this sandwich,” Pippa exclaimed.

Pippa had a point. But I had concerns.

An overall good sandwich with nice crispy, yet potato-y skinny fries, I was somehow expecting the Portobello mushroom bacon (cured at the Supper Club) to be crispy and the bread to be at least toasted. The bacon was cold and soggy, sliced up into little pieces and certainly cured in liquid smoke. A comprehensive bite of the sandwich was delightfully peppery, earthy and balanced, but when I nabbed up a little piece of Portobello bacon that escaped the BLT, it tasted like eating cigarette smoke. This sandwich was good and a bright idea, it just needed a bit of tweaking.

Matteo’s has created a dining experience to meld together those of a formal dining era, the organically inclined and intimate lounge-like hip food scene. Matteo’s has the mother earth mold and offers a dining experience for any type of diner to enjoy.

There are some restaurants that I say I might return to, but I’d return to Matteo’s Pizza & Bistro and actually spend my own money. Plan for this place when anticipating a possibly stressful meeting—like a date or reconnecting with old friends—or for a good meal. The frequency of calm is invigorating, the attitude is refreshing and the food makes you happy.

Imagine intertwining prongs of sleek, cool metal meeting in the middle of desire and decadence. Cutting the tension and fluff of frills and frosting with the blunt edges of reality, striking a hopeful counterbalance of possibility and reality. Sharing dessert with someone can subconsciously be this intense and stimulating. It’s really about what you’re eating, with whom you’re choosing to eat and how much you’re investing in the experience.

As much as any respectable foodie enjoys food, enjoying it with someone you care about makes the experience much more fulfilling. Regardless of the dreaded VD (Valentine’s Day, silly), this is just as good as any other time to share and build relationships with the important people in your life.

Grabbing dessert à deux could be the starting point for sensual satiation, or just the right light ambiance for cheerful conversation with the right mélange of pals. Either way, Rick’s Dessert Diner is not only a local favorite for traditional desserts, but also a good place to dessert à deux.

Upon my visit, I was looking for the sexiest and most sumptuous sweets. If I had my way, I would have ventured to this veritable sweet factory with a special someone (wouldn’t you like to know who?) I was sweet on. But, life is life and instead I recruited an amicable volunteer to partake in just desserts. A homie, if you will.

After hours of work, we were looking forward to our sweet treat. Isn’t the idea of Rick’s “more than 285″ homemade delectable desserts absolutely overwhelming? Since the possibility of “too much of a good thing” does exist, Rick’s offers the choice of about 40 different desserts upon any given visit. Keeping the approaching Valentine’s Day in mind, we chose the sexiest and best-partitioned pastries. We chose cakes we thought would leave those who dessert à deux satisfied, intrigued and in anticipation, but not bloated or afflicted with bad breath.

We decided on a confectionary trifecta for $5.95 each: a slice of the white chocolate champagne cake, the strawberry bagatelle, and a smooth slice of the midnight torte as the topper.

Our sampling began with some disappointment. The white chocolate champagne cake scintillated my senses with four layers of yellow cake separated by raspberry preserves and butter cream. The humongous butter cream topping was like puff drops of cashmere cream-colored clouds dusted with sparkling sugar shavings. But the cake was too dry and frosting too buttery. The “champagne extract,” used to dazzle dessert choosers, had little notable flavor and set false expectations. The concept was creative, but the execution was not exceptional.

The strawberry bagatelle cake was the ultimate winner in my book. I thought it would be the average cake, but it was delightful and great to share. The big strawberries presented the perfect sharing test: splitting the fruit evenly. The 5/8 frosting to 3/8 spongy cake ratio worked well with highly orange-flavored, Grand Marnier-spiked creamy mousse topping.

As my homie excitedly told me about his budding relationship with a young vixen, we turned our attention to the flourless, chocolate-y midnight torte. Basically just chocolate, there was no way that this dessert wasn’t super sexy-time. Be sure to take the complimentary raspberry sauce, because the tartness of the puree is a necessary equalizer for the intense torte.

We managed to finish at least half of each slice of cake. Our eyes were bigger than our tums and I left feeling un-sexy. Moderation and sharing is key. One piece is perfect for two.

Sharing dessert can be as innocent as a sugar binge between buds. But it can be as intimately indulgent as the premise for a romantic romp between longing lovers. Let’s do it and go get some”¦ Dessert à deux, I mean.

By Josselin Basaldu

The Grouch Set to Leave Paradise for West Coast Tour

Over the past decade, Oakland, Calif. native The Grouch has proven to be the embodiment of the independent musician. Alongside his crew the Living Legends, Grouch built an underground empire from the ground up, building a reputation by pounding the pavement with dope product, selling his music to fans hand-to-hand. He always made himself visible and bridged the often-murky area between supplier and consumer. Hustle aside, it was his music that resonated with fans. Instead of a fast food filling, Grouch based his lyrics in reality—honest and candid, intelligent and insightful. Through 10 solo albums, five group collaborations and more than a handful of Living Legends projects, Grouch has never led fans astray. An inspiration for anyone looking to make it happen by doing it their way, his career has shown that hard work and dedication go a long way.

In support of How the Grouch Stole Christmas, his aptly titled 11-city West Coast tour, the man whose fuzzy 4-track songs I once put on a Maxell mixtape spoke from his newly settled island paradise on topics ranging from modern-day subsistence living to Dr. Seuss—and of course, music.

I understand you’re out in Hawaii at the moment. Is that for work or pleasure?
Nah, I’m living out here doing the family life, growing vegetables and chillin’. Working of course, every day, all day, grinding over the Internet and over the telephone. It’s not a permanent thing, I don’t think, but we like it out here a lot so we wanted to give it a trial period. We were supposed to stay six months, but at the end of the six months we were like, we got to go for another six months. We’re taking it as it comes.

You said growing vegetables, are you really on some subsistence level shit out there or what?
Nah, we’re just living. We’re staying at a house that get its water from the rain and has solar power, and we have a good vegetable garden going. We’re just doing natural family life: kicking it, and jumping in the ocean and drinking coconuts.

That sounds amazing.
Yeah, it’s been a real good experience. It’s a good change, and we did it at a good time. It’s still the United States, but it feels a little bit detached out here. There is less advertising, less TVs around.

Your latest tour, How the Grouch Stole Christmas, is going to take you away from your paradise for a couple days. Off the top, it was nice to see fellow Living Legend Eligh’s name right there with yours.
Yeah, it worked out good because me and Eligh have an album coming out March or April of next year. People always ask when the next G&E album is coming out. Me and Eligh are good friends so when we do shows, it’s always fun, and people love to see the combination of us two. We’re both on the same page, as far as us both doing sober shows and all that, and we’re both at a time in our careers where we are taking everything very seriously and trying to step our games up.

I was going to say, it’s been a long time since I’ve heard mention of G&E as a group. What can you say about the album so far?
We’ve got a strong single with Gift of Gab, so you’ll hear that. But as far as everyone else, we have Mistah Fab on there, Sage Francis and Slug on a couple different songs. We’ve got a song produced by Flying Lotus, a joint produced by Amp Live of Zion I. It’s going to be a good release. I’m really proud of the music so far.

The Bayliens are also scheduled to play, but there is one name that I didn’t recognize: Paul Dateh.
Yeah, he’s dope. He’s from L.A. and played violin on my last album; he’s also a vocalist too. If you Google him, there are some pretty amazing videos of his violin skills, and how he combines them with hip-hop. He’s just coming up and making a name for himself. When you watch the set though, you’re like damn that was dope. Every time I have him open up for me, he gets a really good response. The Bayliens, they’ve been working real hard and I like the way they do their stuff, so it all works together.

Alright, last one to wrap it all up. Looking at Dr. Seuss as a writer, in terms of his story telling, his structure, his rhymes, how would you rate him in MC terms?
Dr. Seuss is a dope poet, and would make a dope MC. I think if he wanted to rap, he could probably have some tight raps. I don’t know how much of a coincidence it is that I’m using one of his themes, but I’ve had a lot of people tell me that my rhyme style reminds them of Dr. Seuss. I don’t know if that’s a diss or not [laughs]. It wasn’t like, “You have the most Simple Simon rhymes in rap,” but I have been told that they can see a resemblance, and I take that as a compliment. I like the dude’s style. He’s not the most complex, but he’s successful for a reason. The way he put his books out there, and the content in them with the pictures and the whole package, I really respect the dude.

Simple or not, at the end of the day he’s saying something of substance, which can always be said of your music.
Exactly.

I’m not gonna lie”¦ after the last two fiascos, I was worried. I had lost faith in others, and who could blame me? After eight years of stupidity, war, greed, corruption, God-pimping and fearmongering, there didn’t seem to be much hope. The world had officially gone to hell in a hand basket (and I ain’t talkin a Longaberger!).
I can’t just blame President Bush or the Republican Party; the problem went much deeper. Something had driven roughly half the country bat-shit crazy. I wanted to believe they had been glamoured by Count Cheney, but I knew there was more to it than that. Despite not knowing the source of this lunacy, its effect was clear: America had lost its way.

The brain-damaged half of the country was happy with their brain-dead president and his team of know-nots. They were ready to swallow whatever shit was shoveled their way. They turned off their brains and changed their outgoing message to “FOUR MORE YEARS!!!” “SUPPORT THE TROOPS!!!” and the tragically comical, “U.S.A!!!” Differences were answered with cries of “TERRORIST!” A horror flick had become reality and the media was immediately smitten.

Those in the news business met up to decide which piece of this mindless bitch they could claim as their own. Fox News was appointed as the White House Press Secretary and Geraldo was shipped off to fight Al Qaeda. CNN put a bowtie on a small retarded child, named him Tucker, and unleashed him on the country until he was stopped by Jon Stewart. MSNBC’s Chris Mathews literally figured out how to talk out of his ass and proceeded to subject the world to his bungie-flower every evening. “Newsertainment” was born, but it still needed guests. Fortunately, some of the worst politicians in history just so happened to be in office at the time and they all wanted their turn on the m-i-c.

The Republicans drilled into the earth and summoned Karl Rove from Hell. “Turd Blossom” recruited Donald Rumsfeld, John Ashcroft and Alberto Gonzales to say things so confusing that it would take the public, the courts and the world over eight years to figure out. The Democrats, trapped in a recurring wet dream involving the Clinton years, did little more than shake their finger at the GOP. (“Bad dog! No earmark!”) With all of the scolding going on, the left had no time to choose a candidate with even a semblance of personality; of course, they were under the influence of a Sith Lord (I’m on to you Lieberman!). After eight years, we were broke, unemployed and homeless, and the government was busy picking fights around the world.

Many figured the end was near, until someone held up a sign calling for change. The battle between old and new began, and it was epic. On one side, probably the closest thing to the American dream, Barack Obama; and on the other, the self proclaimed “maverick” John McCain. Of course, they brought along friends; Obama had Joe “The” Biden and McCain had Sarah “The Warrior Princess” Palin. I’m not sure I will ever figure out why McCain chose the mom from Bobby’s World as his V.P. Perhaps he was hoping to parlay the campaign into some kind of variety show. If that was his plan, he forgot one simple fact: this country knows shitty TV, and it smelled that turd-burger from a mile away. On Nov. 4, 2008, with clothespins in their noses, America elected Barack Obama the 44th President of the United States by both a majority of the Electoral College and the national popular vote (imagine that!). I hate to admit it, but I cried when I heard the results. For the first time, in what feels like my entire adult life, I was truly proud to be an American”¦ then I checked California’s propositions.

What the fuck is wrong with this state? California overwhelmingly votes for change with Obama and then proceeds to ban gay marriage and shoot down two attempts at reducing our dependence on foreign oil? California, the first state to legalize marijuana for medicinal use, decides against easing prison over-population by letting non-violent drug offenders opt for treatment programs? Apparently, we have better things to waste our money on, like riding a bullet train into economic derailment. Congratulations assholes, thanks for stomping on our prosperity!

By Bocephus Chigger

Jamie’s Bar and Grill

427 Broadway Sacramento, California

You could drive past Jamie’s Bar and Grill 100 times without realizing it was even there. Located at 427 Broadway, Jamie’s is not extravagant by any stretch of the word. Other than a green awning there isn’t a sign that would attract the eye, and without the large concentration of cars surrounding a vacant lot, I probably could pass it fully knowing where I was going.

Some people might look at the bland exterior and be turned off, but for me this is a great sign. I’m a simple man, and all I need is good food.

I had heard tales of Jamie’s for a while now, but always from the middle age professionals not my peers. Open Monday through Friday from 11 a.m.-2 p.m. and then from 5:30 p.m.-8:30 p.m., which explains the latter. On the Wednesday afternoon, I made it out to the place, and it was filled with khakis and collared shirts. I was definitely the youngest person in there by 15 years. The bar (to eat no doubt) was completely filled and a line of a few others waited for their turns. I was immediately seated and taken care of from the start. Off the bat, I was immediately at home in the dimly light restaurant of maybe 20 tables. There weren’t any windows so light was minimal, and the huge mounted Bison head really ties the room together. It was easily recognized that most of the clientèle were regulars, which is always a testament to a restaurant’s food.

Their menu was one page and very straight forward. I had heard good things about their burger and steak sandwich, but it all sounded good to me. All the menu items were sandwiches of some sort, with a few salad options and some specials, which mostly consisted of sea food, but the $15 price tag sounded like they were more of a dinner thing. All sandwiches came with a choice of fries, onion rings or salad and were mostly in the $7-9 range.

After much debate over the hot turkey sandwich, which came with mash potatoes and gravy, I sided with “Jamie’s Club.” It sounds a little boring I suppose, but the food was far from that. Obviously catering to the lunch crowd, the food came relatively quick. Served on a large plate, the entire surface was covered with thinly cut and crispy (and flakey but not over cooked, which is good!) fries and a monstrous sandwich. Between lightly toasted slices of fresh sourdough they managed to fit avocado, tomato, lettuce, chunks of white turkey meat and recently cooked bacon. It was impossible to taste it all with one bite, so I had to plan my bites accordingly”¦or maybe I’m just weird like that.

So many things made the sandwich great, but the turkey was the stand out flavor. Carved straight from the carcass, the meat was moist and cut in thick slices. They definitely weren’t shy with the portions either, which was greatly appreciated. Aside from the turkey, and again I’m a simple man, but the tomato was peppered. This might not sound like a big deal, but it added a distinct taste. And more than that, it showed that they were actually mindful of what they were doing and not just mindlessly throwing stuff on bread. The bacon was greasy and hot, not heat lamp hot, and did what bacon always does: make whatever you’re eating that much better.

They had me before I walked in, and the food was everything I had imagined it would be; simple and awesome, with quality ingredients and hearty portions. I will be undoubtedly be going back to Jamie’s on a regular basis, and just may have a new place to eat/drink before a River Cats game.

Blue Turner

There I was, chillin’, maxin’ out, “lurkin’ hard” in a limo, drinking a Red Bull Vodka on my way with the Red Bull Sacramento Crew to swoop up some of the nastiest local skateboarders in the 916. I knew it was going to be ill. I mean, shit, we’re in a limo, so I sat back and waited for the madness to ensue.

Rob Mason

We pulled up to the old Flatspot skate shop downtown and saw a dozen or so sweating kids skating flat ground awaiting our arrival. The limo driver, we’ll call him Dan, got out of his driver seat and opened the door, allowing everyone in. “Beer me” someone exclaimed, as an ice-cold one got tossed into his hands. “Do you have any CDs?” I replied to the dude clutching the beer and almost before I’m finished I get a sarcastic reply, “Yeah”¦see deeze nuts!” I should’ve known not to give him such a golden opportunity. After a few quick laughs we all saddled up, cameras and lights chillin’ in the back, and headed over to the first spot: Granite Skate Park off Power Inn Road. Although there was nothing NSA about skating the biggest park in all of Northern Cali—our crew just needed to warm up and get their bones loose on their home turf.

So we pulled up to Granite like straight pimps. Everyone piled out of the limo to skate the park and immediately everything was getting destroyed. These skateboarders were killing this park, literally, name a trick and it was laced. After about an hour of the park, a few flip tricks over the double set courtesy of Kyle Duval, and stenciling all the local groms’ decks (www.redbullskateboarding.com), we jumped back in the fly mobile (Dan’s limo) and headed to some gnarly 11 stair at a school in Fair Oaks, Calif.

We pulled up to this handrail, and it was pitch black. As soon as Danny Boy let us out, I realized we were in the fuckin’ suburbs somewhere and we were being mad loud. I gave it 15 minutes before the cops showed up. With this in mind, we quickly set up the lights, and they got to work. After a few warmup ollies, things started getting dope. This little man, Blue Turner, was destroying it: backside smith grinds like it was his day job. Then next thing you know, Rob Mason barreled through and started trying to backlip the damn thing. It was dope; the Lurk Hard homies were representing.

After another hour or so, we jumped back in the limo and headed over to Ink in Midtown for some grub and drinks. An hour or two, a few drinks, and a chunky meal later, we were ready to peace out.

All in all, the night was an unforgettable experience. Big ups to Armain Austin, everyone at Red Bull, Lurk Hard and everyone who was along for the ride”¦thanks for a dope evening! And remember, NSA is only a state of mind.

By Brandon Brown
Photos Courtesy of Joe Poinski

Nevada City’s Newest Secret

It’s no secret that small town Nevada City, Calif. is full of beauty and mystery. Home to just about 2,500, Nevada City is largely populated with tall pines, Victorian homes and boasts over 93 nationally historic buildings and landmarks. The town is also no stranger to talent, as it has been the hometown of many international and local musical acts (such as Drag City’s darling Joanna Newsom, folk artists Alela Diane and Mariee Sioux, and experimental band Hella, to name a few). Outsiders are intrigued by the town’s mystifying influence, as a rush of talented musicians and artists have emerged over the last few years. It would seem then, since the town has such an abundance of talent, that there would be an underground scene bursting with eager crowds and packed venues. Submerge recently spoke to Casual Fog’s frontman—and sole constant member—Ryan Donnelly, about his musical background and the lack of a scene in his hometown.

On your Myspace page, it lists the main band member as “Ryan Donnelly,” but also lists a variety of other names. Who is Casual Fog? Is it mainly just you or you and a number of other musicians? Does the lineup change consistently?
I’ve spent the last nine or 10 years or so writing and recording songs at home, arranging songs with the instruments I had access to at the time. I didn’t start playing shows consistently until three years ago. I first started playing shows by myself, and eventually with a band that consisted of friends I’ve had for years.
The first line-up that has become what the band is now was Thad Stoenner, Dan Elkan and Neal Morgan and we played our first show at After the Goldrush Records in Nevada City. Since then the band has also consisted of David Nicholson, Ben Milner, Jonathan Hichske and Pete Newsom. David B. Torch, Matt Gotchalk, Ryan Schwarz, and Brook Caballero have also played some shows. The lineup changes depending on who is around and has time to practice and play shows.

I know it’s a difficult question, but if you can, describe your music or at least what other people have used to possibly describe your sound?
I’d say my music reflects my own curiousity, and that curiousity sounds like the different kinds of music that have influenced me in my life, and sounds that have caught my attention.

You are based out of Nevada City, a prominent place known for creative talent. What makes the city so special? What do you think of the music scene in Nevada City?
I personally don’t think there is a scene really. I think anybody who lives here would agree with me that there is not really a scene. There are a lot of artists and musicians here but just not enough venues to play at or people who come out to shows. Nevada County has been one of those types of places where people have been making music and art for quite along time. I’m not really sure why.

You’d think it would be very different, being that there are so many artists who are from Nevada City.
Yeah, you would, but there are just not enough venues to play at here. I think that people have the wrong idea when it comes to this place. And I think that out of town bands get very disappointed when they come here, because they are expecting some huge crowd at their shows. It’s unfortunate but true. That is why many bands and artists from here go and play in either Sacramento or the Bay Area.

What are some of your favorite projects out of Nevada City or even in Sacramento?
Them Hills, Aaron Ross, The Full Cody Feiler Experience and You’re Welcome!

I’ve noticed that you have a few shows coming up in Nevada City, Sacramento and San Francisco. What are some of your favorite venues to play in all three cities?
The Chief Crazy Horse Inn and the Basement in Nevada City, Old Ironsides and Cafe du Nord and the Make-Out Room have all been fun.

If you could collaborate with any artist, who would it be and why?
Brian Eno, just to see what he would do and hopefully figure out how he did it.

What are some of your future plans for Casual Fog? Future shows you are looking forward to, an album, or tour coming up?
Right now I’m hoping to book more shows around the west coast. I’m also starting work on another record.

I support taco trucks, hot dog vendors (especially those dudes who mix in the bacon, onions and peppers), ice cream trucks (and handcarts) and basically almost any mobile food service. I admire their entrepreneurship, and most importantly, their food. They work hard, so I have no problem breaking bread with them. For this installment, I’m giving shine to a gem on wheels that some of you may or may not be familiar: the fruit cart vendor.

I have no clue if there is an official name for these. All I know is that on a hot day there are few things as refreshing as a huge 32 oz. cup filled with freshly cut fruits. From what I remember, there weren’t many of any of these carts around town last summer, but I feel like this year they are all over the place; Broadway, Florin, Franklin, Fruitridge, etc. Spotting them is easy, just look for the colorful umbrella on the side of the road; and I swear once you’re aware of them, you’ll notice their abundance.

My first experience with these delights was out in Oakland on International St., where the portions were far less favorable and served in a plastic bag that was not nearly as easy to eat out of as the durable plastic containers found at my Broadway location (I’m gonna keep it real ridiculous and hold onto mine for future leftovers). Ordering is simple; just pick and choose what fruits you want. Choices usually include: watermelon, pineapple, mango, oranges, cantaloupe and cucumber, and you have the option of adding chili powder and limejuice. The chili powder and limejuice sounds a little odd considering all the natural flavors involved, but consider it an added bonus. Maybe on your first trip, try the chili powder in a small dose at first as I can see it not being for everybody, but my thinking goes if they do it, so should I.

For some it might be just a snack, but I can usually maintain with one cup for lunch. Prices vary, but expect to pay somewhere between $4 and $5, and while it might sound like a lot for fruit it’s a small price to pay for a truly healthy lunch. Alright that sounded mad corny, and instead of trying to further convince you I’ll stop by promising you won’t be disappointed.

By Corey Bloom