Mike Farrell, Lite Brite
Old Ironsides “¢ Wednesday, Nov. 25, 2009
Words by Adam Aaake “¢ Photos by April Fredrikson

In our last issue, no. 47, local musician and show promoter Ira Skinner said that “Sacramento’s music scene is probably in the worst condition that I’ve seen it in my life.” Sadly, I’ll have to agree with that. But in the season of giving thanks and on the eve of our nation’s holiday, I was thankful for the bands that are continuing to kick ass year after year, night after night.

A crowd of over a hundred gathered inside the warm walls of a familiar Sacramento venue that happens to be celebrating its 75th year of operation—Old Ironsides. Jerry Perry, another icon of our local scene and the man responsible for the majority of the booking at Old Ironsides for the past who knows how many years, has put together an all-star series of shows featuring the best acts our city has to offer. Last Wednesday’s bill began with a block party set from the always entertaining Lite Brite. Imagine Buzz Osborne with a voice like Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist, a drummer from the school of Tom Bonham and a bass player with a warm and fuzzy Rickenbacker; throw in a solid lead guitar player and you’re close to their sound. Their opening song, “Space Shuttle” lifted the crowd from their seats and had them orbiting around the stage like well lubricated satellites. Singer Eddie Underwood was belting lyrics through his thick, dirty-blond hair that sprawled across the front of his face, flailing his arm to the ceiling and arching his body forward as a he played an arpeggiated guitar riff with his free hand. An exhibitionist? Maybe. Pretty bad ass? Definitely.

Their fourth song in was ghostly reminiscent of Far circa Tin Cans With Strings to You. What added to this poltergeist was Far bass player Johnny Guttenberg looking on from the side of the stage. Later he would play with Jackpot, who was also on the bill that night, so I guess it wasn’t too strange. It’s great to hear and see the influence that a great Sacramento band like Far continues to have on the current scene.

A skinny-framed man with a tight fitting white T-shirt and a thick head of greasy brown hair that was slicked back over his head approached the stage. He slowly picked up his guitar and slid it over his shoulder in a routine manner, adjusting the leather strap that was decorated with the suits of a deck of cards. A dense crowd was surrounding the stage at this point and it was clear that they were here to see the next act. His name was Mike Farrell and he needed no introduction. The second his guitar was strummed and the set began, the experience and tenacity of Sacramento’s guitar legend proved true once again. This time with his own band, Farrell played a set of grimy rock ‘n’ roll tunes that were layered with keys and violin from the talented multi-instrumentalist Liani Moore. Veteran drummer Mike Curry did his thing on the skins while keeping the back end pocket with bass player Shawn Hali.

This performance was all about Farrell, though. When he solos you listen; touching every part of the guitar and producing sounds from his instrument that seem otherworldly. He raised his hand over the guitar as it hummed, controlling it like a shaman—he owns its soul. His mouth pursed, and he stepped to the microphone and muttered his lyrics, more concerned with the noise of his chord that continued to linger.

His music is a rare fixture of the scene that we as the local fans have the pleasure of seeing, and that, my friends, is what I am thankful for. I am thankful for the huge crowd that gathered on a brisk Wednesday to support a bill of favorites and a venue that has housed the sounds of thousands of bands over the course of its live music lineage.

Tonight, Ira would be proud.

Happy Mayfield, Righteous Movement

Old Ironsides was a rocking boat April 18. Old friends were conversing and new friends were connecting, and for those who were rusty at socializing, the bar was there to hug. Lee Bob fans spoke fluently with leftover Bucho fans as Happy Mayfield heartthrobs conversed in familiar circles with Righteous Movement aficionados. It was clear that everyone in attendance had gathered for the same reason: to have a good time.

If there are two styles of music that are all about having a good time, they are hip-hop and funk. Historically speaking, one came from the other and so it seems so natural that they cross-pollinate. With that said, you need look no further for one hell of a good time than a bill that includes the aforementioned Righteous Movement and Happy Mayfield. If you are from Sacramento, then you’ve most likely seen Righteous but might not be familiar with Happy Mayfield yet. Happy Mayfield, a funk band to be reckoned with, is a harmonious marriage between singer/songwriter Lee Bob Watson and The Park (ex-members of local favorites Bucho). To my delight, I discovered upon viewing the stage that The Park was set up to play with Righteous as well. Hip-hop shows take on a whole new life when live instruments are part of the equation, and the boys in The Park were nice and warmed up after a stint at SXSW where they backed artists Alice Russell, Keelay and Zaire in the buzzing city of Austin, Texas a few weeks back.

Righteous Movement’s set began with no introduction. Derek Taylor laid right in to the kit with Josh Lippi on bass, Ben Schwier on keys and Ross Grant on guitar following closely behind. Each backbeat groove was laid out with ease for the three (usually four) MCs to do what they do best: rap their asses off. The energy pouring from Old Ironsides’ small, dimly lit stage was almost overwhelming as the seven-player-deep ensemble blasted their way through a continuous set of funk-powered hip-hop tracks. Verses were traded back and forth, and each delivery had its own voice while still achieving that barbershop quartet harmony that Theek, Tais, Skurge and S.O.L. have carved out for themselves. The rhymes were well thought out, the hooks were fun and the gentlemen had a stage presence that exuded personality and experience. Righteous’ own DJ Tofu even made his way to the stage at one point, charismatically raising his poison of choice in a celebratory gesture. The audience, as thin as it had become at that point, needed no persuasion.

At the bar earlier that evening, The Park’s bassist Josh Lippi had told me that, “”¦Happy Mayfield is Lee Bob’s alter-ego.” We laughed and I didn’t think much of it until Lee Bob hopped up on stage wearing a pair of retro frames wrapped around his face, a faded T-shirt and a pair of bellbottoms to finish it off. Now don’t get confused, they weren’t all dressed up like a cheesy ’70s cover band. Happy just had a funky style, man.

On stage, Lee Bob became this alter-ego. He was some sort of a shaman, writhing and whipping his head back and forth as if possessed by the spirit that he sought to conjure. The defining song of the evening found him screaming, “Happyyy!” at the top of his falsetto lungs—the band behind him pumping away, yelling more and fueling his hysteria. “You can’t get this at no corner store,” he cautioned his congregation. Taylor’s machine gun snare fills stuttered through Lee Bob’s mantra all the while Schwier’s keyboard cried and moaned to the crowd, which hung on every last note, their eyes ablaze and wishing strangely for the song to end but not knowing how; sadistically enjoying the agony. Lee Bob expelled his guitar, sprang onto the dance floor and erupted into an involuntary dance that then sent the rest of the movers and shakers into like positions. Local guitar guru Mike Farell, who had been looming in the audience, made his way to Lee Bob’s guitar and struck up a solo that built as the band swelled, and heavy-washed cymbals filled the spaces in between. Lippi’s solid bass playing anchored it all down. This was funk music in its most raw form.

I finished my Pabst and walked the four blocks back to my apartment feeling”¦happyyy.

20,000 Breaks into the Sacramento Music Scene

Comprised of locals David Mohr and girlfriend Meg Larkin, the band 20,000 is relatively new to the Sacramento music scene—but with their youthful energy and down to earth attitudes, it’s no wonder that fans are quickly tuning in. “By default, I usually just say it’s dance music with guy/girl vocals and synthesizers,” Larkin says about their style. Even if you’re not typically a fan of dance music, there is no doubt that the upbeat tempo and catchy lyrics of 20,000 will have you up and out of your seat in no time.

It started as a dream—literally. Mohr says, “I had a dream a while ago that we had a band and we named it 20,000.” Both Mohr and Larkin are adamant that if you dream it, you must do it, and thus 20,000 was born. “If you do what you do in your dreams in real life, then it’s almost like you’re predicting the future,” Mohr says.

“Yeah, it’s true,” Larkin adds. “If you dream that you’re wearing red socks, you have to buy a pair of red socks and wear them.”

About two years ago, sparks started flying, musically, that is. Mohr began writing music on his computer, and then he and Larkin started adding vocals. Mohr says, “When I was writing the songs for the album, I was listening to music that has a lot of synths in it, but not necessarily electronic music.” They cite musicians such as Prince, Talking Heads and Hot Chip as being very influential during that time period. Larkin says, “Up until a couple of years ago I never really listened to dance music, but it’s some of my favorite music now.”

The goal for their music is simple: create songs with a good beat that people will want to party and dance to. Mohr says, “While we were recording the album, I was thinking it would be cool to just have a good CD for people to listen to in their houses at parties.” He writes all of their songs, and is no stranger to the music world. He played with some of his high school buddies in a band called Didley Squat for about six years, and when that gig dissolved, he naturally transitioned into forming 20,000.

While they had been diligently practicing and recording songs at home for many months, their first live performance happened this past August, at Old Ironsides. “We were apparently really visibly nervous,” Larkin remembers. “I was wearing short shorts and this crop top, just trying to be funny, but it was the most intimidating outfit to wear in front of people as a joke.” While their first show was definitely nerve-wracking, a lot of their friends came out to show support and it was a fun experience that paved the way for future shows. Other than Old Ironsides, they’ve played at Javalounge, Luigi’s Fun Garden and Blue Lamp.

When transitioning to live performances, Mohr says that one of the biggest challenges is figuring out how to make everything sound right in such a drastically different environment. After spending two years perfecting their songs in their apartment with only a tiny set of computer speakers—and trying to keep the noise level down so as not to disturb the neighbors—they now had to create a seamless performance in a real venue.

For Larkin, there was the added challenge of being brand-new to the music scene. She had been involved with musicals during high school but had no prior experience with playing an instrument. “When we decided to start playing live shows, I learned how to play rudimentary keyboard,” she says. This was completely terrifying at first, and she remembers being nervous for six or seven hours before a show, to the point where she could barely eat or drink. But as time went on and performing became more commonplace, her nervous energy eventually went away, and now she loves the thrill of shows. “When we have a show and there’s people responding to it and everyone is nice it’s like, yes! We’re the best band ever! Let’s do this every night!”

Both members play keyboards and sing, and their drumbeats are on an iPod. This means that they can carry all of their instruments to a show and set everything up on their own—no roadies required. “It’s super easy for us to set up,” Larkin explains, adding that it literally takes about four minutes. “Just put the keyboards on the stand, plug it in, turn the iPod on and we’re set.”

Although perhaps they hadn’t planned to “make it big” in the music business, the Sacramento music scene has been good to 20,000. Larkin is surprised at how easy it has been to get shows that they really enjoy. Their friends have also been extremely encouraging in this new venture. Larkin says, “It’s definitely been cool to see how supportive our friends have been, getting them to come out and pay for shows over and over and over again.”

20,000 will likely become a common name in the Sacramento area as time progresses. The couple is ecstatic about their 2009 New Year’s Eve show at Blue Lamp, which has been the biggest show they’ve played so far.

You can check them out on Myspace: www.myspace.com/20000music.

Singer Christopher Fairman Shows that Darkness Can Be Beautiful

Listen to local musician Christopher Fairman’s upcoming new release, 85, 87, and allow Fairman’s smooth, strong vocals to meld with guitarist Nick York’s haunting, melodic riffs. Fairman’s brooding voice is just slightly reminiscent of singers like Ryan Adams and Nick Drake, with a darkness that permeates throughout all seven tracks—powerful, lilting melodies with the occasional romantic ballad thrown in (hey, he is only 23).

Let’s not forget that the CD was recorded in just four hours, in a session that was equally surprising to Fairman, York and producer David Houston. Although Fairman had been mulling the tracks over in his mind for months, he had no idea when the day would come to record. But the muse is a fickle creature, and one day, it struck.

“I had a really bad day, and for some reason I just knew it was the day to record,” he says. There’s nothing like recording an entire album practically straight through to turn your day around. “It was a good day. But afterward, I was pretty mentally drained,” he remembers.

Songwriting seems to be Fairman’s forte. He says that although he’s dabbled in music since the age of 8—including piano, violin and saxophone—none of those instruments really spoke to him.

“I didn’t feel like I could express myself enough,” he explains. “I decided to play the bass, which just made me want to play the guitar, which is where I ended up. I really probably only played the guitar to write songs.”

The new album marks a personal triumph in regards to Fairman’s writing, as he explains, “I think it’s the first time that I feel really good about being a writer” I was able to really let go and I could write about things I would be afraid to write about before.” You’ll hear poetry in the music, with the melodies carrying you to a place where you forget you’re even listening to words. “I write every song differently. I’m a big fan of poetry, but I don’t consider myself a poet.”

The cover art on 85, 87 was painted by Michael Pitcher, one of Fairman’s best friends, and serves more than just decoration. Fairman points to the painting as being one of the main inspirations behind the entire album.

“The painting was a big part of a year of my life, because I was writing songs and he was painting his painting, and then he gave it to me for my birthday, Fairman says. “It really feels like a year of my life all really came together.”

Song choices on the album were largely a result of that connection to Pitcher’s painting. Fairman relates that he had 18 songs to choose from, but made the decision to whittle them down to the seven songs that were the darkest. “I kind of purposely wanted to go darker because the painting is pretty dark,” he says.

Although Fairman is still young, he seems keenly aware of both his own emotions and the emotions of others. And although his music may be dark, it isn’t entirely autobiographical. “I feel like I took a year of my life and condensed it, like someone writing a novel might do. Not every character is about them,” he explains.

Fairman has also built a lengthy resume in a relatively short time. His first taste of music production happened with the band he formed while in high school, Fairman and Friends, which included pianist David DeMuri and drummer Jon McHenry. They released their CD, Patiently Waiting, in 2004. In 2006, Fairman put out a solo EP. Then, later that year, he released his full-length album Born Broken, a slightly jazzier and more pop-like album than his newest release, and including a variety of different musicians and instruments—listen for cello and violin in the background of certain tracks.

Beyond simple evolution, Fairman’s musical abilities have matured while working with so many different musicians, allowing him to embrace his many sides. “I think that back in my first band I wanted to do this jazzy rock kind of thing, and now I have separate things. I have this solo thing that is kind of dark, really moody, airy stuff. I also have a band called The Stilts and that is a mix of a pop, rock and psychedelic band.”

He calls The Stilts his “rock band”; when Fairman’s going to play at Old Ironsides, he is accompanied by Nick York and Mike Farrell on guitar, Matt McCord on drums and Chris Vogel on bass. If he’s going to Luna’s Café, that’s when he goes solo, with Nick York’s guitar riffs to carry him through.

Although Fairman still waits tables now, it’s safe to guess that he won’t need a day job for much longer. “I see music as a business,” he says, explaining all the work he’s put into his musical career thus far. “There’s just so many things you have to do to actually put on the show, especially because I like things to be good.” In the meantime, we should definitely plan on hearing the name Christopher Fairman in the Sacramento area for quite a while. “John McRea, the guy in Cake, told me that the way to make it is to keep going until you can’t do it anymore,” Fairman says.