As the craft beer movement continues to grow, consumers reap the benefits of brewers getting more and more creative with their concoctions. No matter what your tastes are, there’s probably a beer style out there for you. The same is true for coffee lovers. There is no shortage of amazing coffee beers out there these days, mostly stouts and porters, as they are great base styles for coffee beers. Increasingly, brewers are also experimenting with adding coffee flavors to IPAs, cream ales and other styles. Come Friday, Nov. 10, well over a dozen West Coast craft breweries will be on hand at The Brickhouse Gallery and Art Complex (2837 36th St.) for the Sacramento Coffee Beerfest and Competition, which organizers claim is the first of its kind in the country. Sip on unlimited tastings of coffee beer offerings from breweries like Flatland, Claimstake, Drake’s, High Water, Sactown Union, Calicraft, The Monk’s Cellar and many others, and then vote for your favorite. DJ Nocturnal will be spinning jams, and there will also be food trucks on site. General admission tickets are $30, with VIP and designated driver options available as well. Visit Sacramentocoffeebeerfest.com for more information and to snag tickets ahead of time.
**This write-up first appeared in print on page 11 of issue #251 (Oct. 23 – Nov. 6, 2017)**
Scratch the surface of your being long enough and you’ll fall through into the abyss, a non-world without end, without up or down. Stripped of all context, it is a place where one is left prey to all the wraith-ish antagonists of the psyche; to survive here, one must not only battle them, but create the very terrain on which to wage one’s battles.
It is a space Chelsea Wolfe, raised in Roseville and Sacramento, has returned to time after time in her work, from the charred sparseness of Apokalypsis (2011) to the poisoned synth melodies of Pain is Beauty (2013) and the stormy, distorted depths of Abyss (2015). Taken as a whole, her stylistic arc is a gradually seething sojourn beyond the veil, gathering momentum and intensity, leading to the elemental fury and charged intimacy of her latest album, Hiss Spun (released Sept. 22, 2017). Tagged over the past few years with everything from “goth” to “doom-metal,” Wolfe’s heavy aesthetic is grounded in delicate songwriting and haunting, siren vocals—half-lullaby, half-lament—which cut through the smoke and fire of her most abrasive songs. It’s no wonder she’s managed to simultaneously rivet the gaze of the criticosphere while cracking the Billboard 200 with her last two releases.
Hiss Spun, while emerging clearly from Wolfe’s previous meditations on themes dark and dreamlike, and the contrast between turmoil in the landscape and within the psyche, is the most scourgingly personal of her artistic statements thus far.
She herself has described it as having an element of exorcism, and the suggestion of traumas corporeal and noncorporeal surge furiously to the surface of the lyrics at times. Such things can be gleaned by the listener; they refuse to be borne out in commonplace description, perhaps, but it is clear enough that they are used here as raw material to be sublimated through artistic excision. Against the clinical white background of the album cover (inspired by Wolfe’s visits in her youth to sleep research facilities) she crouches, not so much against the coming purge but to the task of making pain express itself at her bidding. Song titles like “Vex,” “Strain,” “Welt” and “Scrape” underline the volatility of the subject matter, as if a reactor were needed to contain it all.
Outside of the psychological underpinnings of her work, Wolfe is an artist who rocks in the most brutal, primordial sense of the term. Further amping up her distorted grandeur by utilizing additional guitar and vocal work from Queens of the Stone Age’s Troy Van Leeuwen and Isis’ Aaron Turner on Hiss Spun, Wolfe’s succeeded in illuminating her ties to a grand tradition of soul-searing, head-banging music. If anyone can pull together the current demand for brutal emotional honesty and the newfound appreciation for the roar and hiss of black metal in 2017, it’s Chelsea Wolfe.
Fellow Sacramentans will have the chance to experience Wolfe at her latest creative height alongside pulse-shattering fright industrialists Youth Code at Ace of Spades on Nov. 3, 2017.
Photo by Mary Gebhardt
Just in the first couple listens, I get the feeling that Hiss Spun has a lot to do with destruction—not in the sense of an apocalyptic end, but a destructive creation, reordering, making and unmaking. Did this play a big part in the work?
While I was writing this album, there was a lot I needed to finally heal from: my own self-destruction and ill-health, my past and memories. There is a running theme in all my music of becoming stronger from getting through the difficult times—the forest needing the fire to regenerate—and it definitely continued on Hiss Spun.
You’ve said Hiss Spun is a host of small words and phrases with large meaning. What mindspace were you in to allow these terms to slowly gather together?
There are some keywords throughout that guide the album, and tie things together that may not otherwise seem connected. I was in a bad state while writing some of this album, but allowed myself to just be a mess and open up; allowed whatever needed to come out musically or lyrically to flow.
Listening to your discography in order, there is a clear building in anthemic intensity from one album to the next. Is this mostly the means you have at your disposal as you progress, a build in confidence, a rediscovery of influences?
A build in confidence as I get older yes, and a rediscovery of influence—especially on Hiss Spun. Each album I make has its own catalyst, and for this one it was the reunion of my friend and drummer Jess Gowrie and I. We had a band in Sacramento years ago called Red Host, and she really taught me a lot about being in a band, being a good front-person, and just turned me onto a lot of great, heavy music. After I left to pursue my own project, there was seven years of separation. We didn’t see each other all that time but were pulled back together about two-and-a-half years ago. As we became friends again it was clear that our musical chemistry wasn’t finished, so we started writing songs together. Those songs became the beginnings of Hiss Spun.
Do you have any favorite films that fuel your visual input and leak into your music? If you could re-score a favorite film of yours, what would it be? The Seventh Seal was an early influence for me. I saw it and then read Ingmar Bergman’s autobiography The Magic Lantern and was intrigued by his use of contrast and shadow. But also just the mood and concept of that film—the character of Death followed me for many years. The album cover for my first album, The Grime and the Glow, was in tribute to that, shot by my friend Jessalyn Wakefield. As for re-scoring a favorite film, I don’t know. My favorites already have such great soundtracks—Encounters at the End of the World, Cold Mountain, Cry-Baby. I’d like to score something totally new.
Faith and spirituality seems to be on the wane, but our willingness to discuss and tackle trauma and the burdens we have as humans seems to have grown. Do we still need a connection to the supernatural in our lives? How can it help us?
Finding a connection to the self is very important these days. Sometimes the deepest spirituality can be found inward. Once you know yourself, you can be of use to others.
While making this album, I heard you got back into popular alternative artists from the ‘90s like Nine Inch Nails and Marilyn Manson. Around that time, it felt like there was a larger place for the willfully transgressive and “raw” nearer to the heart of popular music. Do you think we might be heading that way again in music as a whole?
Jess and Ben [Tulao, guitarist] and I would jam and write songs at my place, and then head to the dive bar down the street and play late ‘90s/early 2000s Nine Inch Nails, Soundgarden, Manson, Deftones and Queens of the Stone Age on the jukebox. I’d love to see that kind of music in a more present way again. Like on SNL, for example, you rarely see rock bands anymore. And there’s not a lot of room for it on the radio either.
I often find the verge between sleeping and waking, whether by day or night, is a really fertile wellspring for ideas—good and bad. Do you find this useful in your work? And is there a way to make bad dreams/bad imaginative content “work” to benefit you?
I’ve been inspired by that state of mind for almost my whole life, without even realizing it most of the time. When I was a kid I had insomnia and bad night terrors. My parents took me to a sleep research facility where I was hooked up to all sorts of monitors and meant to fall asleep in a hospital bed in a small white room, to find what was wrong with me. That actually became visual inspiration for Hiss Spun as well, in the album cover and in the video for “16 Psyche.” Anyway, as I got older, I started having sleep paralysis regularly, but my version was not to be paralyzed, just waking up and the characters/shapes from my dreams were still in the room with me, often moving toward me, so I’d lash out or scream. It takes a while to move on from that haziness, and it would follow me into my day as I wrote new music. I still deal with bouts of insomnia sometimes and sleep paralysis. I’m not sure it’s something that ever goes away.
You’ll be coming up through NorCal and specifically Sacramento toward the tail end of fall. Is this your favorite time of year? What is your ideal natural setting?
Fall and winter are definitely my favorite times of year, yes. Where I live now it snows in the winter and that quiet is unmatchable. I plan to spend this winter doing psychedelic experiments on myself and working on songs for my next album. Even though I’ve spent a lot more time in Sacramento lately since I moved back to Northern California, I haven’t played a show there since 2012 so I really look forward to coming back and seeing many friends and family!
It’s been a while, so be sure to give Chelsea Wolfe a warm welcome when she returns to melt our faces at Ace of Spades (1417 R St., Sacramento) on Nov. 3, 2017, at 7:30 p.m. with special guests Youth Code and Screature. Tickets are $22.50 and can be purchased through Aceofspadessac.com.
Editor’s note (March 8, 2018): Chelsea Wolfe will be back in town to play Ace of Spades again on March 26, 2018, with Ministry and The God Bombs. Tickets are $35 in advance at Aceofspadessac.com. Doors open at 7 p.m., and all ages welcome.
**This article first appeared in print on pages 22 – 23 of issue #251 (Oct. 23 – Nov. 6, 2017)**
Folk singers are the novelists of the music world. Each song they write is a different chapter that ultimately creates the story that they wish to tell. Brendan Stone, lead singer and founder of Sacramento outfit Blue Oaks, makes more than folk music, but the music he makes follows the folk tradition in that it tells a story—one that he’s been wanting to tell for nearly a decade.
Stone doesn’t make simple folk. His music is often darker than not and takes inspiration from genres across the board. He might end up making a psych record if that’s the music he’s gravitating toward when he’s writing. Genre isn’t so cut and dry for Stone. A Blue Oaks tune may start with some guitar plucking that comes straight from the mountains, but quickly turns into a track that will remind you more of Kurt Cobain than Woodie Guthrie.
Adhering to genre just isn’t Stone’s thing. He expresses a deep love of all music and wanted to contribute more than what Blue Oaks puts out into the world. So, he opened Stone Vintage Music Boutique (1409 R St. Ste. 103) just a few doors down from Ace of Spades to create a space for Sacramento’s music community. The shop will be closing for a time, however, while Stone heads out on tour, and he has plans to eventually relocate to a new location so he can add a full-fledged venue to the space.
We recently visited Stone’s shop to talk to him about Blue Oaks’ new album To Be Kind is Sin, religion and letting go of perfection. Blue Oaks released its new LP on Oct. 13 with the full band, including longtime drummer Cody Walker, with a seven-deadly-sins-themed album release show Monday, Oct. 30, 2017, at the Clara Auditorium (1425 24th St.).
How long ago did you start Blue Oaks?
It started with me solo, playing acoustic, and that went from when I was 12 with another name but the same songs. From when I was 15 until now, it’s gone by Blue Oaks. From when I was 15 until 21, I played solo. It was the same songs, but not a lot of them were written yet from the album. Then I got Cody on drums when I was around 21 and he wasn’t a drummer.
You got him to do it anyway?
That works out better because there’s no competitive nature. It’s just primal instinct, which sounds better in my opinion. I feel like that’s part of what made the White Stripes’ dynamic work—that Meg was kind of a terrible drummer but she could play with feeling.
It’s just you two?
We went from solo to two-piece to three-piece to two-piece to four musicians, and I think last time we played Harlow’s we had five. Then it went back to a full-band setup again. The record release we’re doing on the 30th will have bass, drums, guitars, keys, violin—the full shebang of instruments. It’s really cool because that’s always how the songs sounded in my head when I wrote them, but it’s not always possible to do [what you want] live. You can’t copy yourself and play all the parts.
Yeah, that’s true. Once you’re live, you have to compromise sometimes.
In the studio you can, which is cool, but not in real life. The To Be Kind is Sin album is interesting because a lot of the songs, the folk songs from the record, were back from when I was 17 through 19. It’s funny because I was more of a folk singer-songwriter playing open mics and kind of built an audience, then started writing. I was really getting into Leonard Cohen, Bob Dylan and Nick Drake at the time, so it was kind of just happening subconsciously. You’re just listening to so much of that, it comes off on your music. I got a decent following from that, and I probably could have recorded a folk record. Then I got into Delta blues and started realizing there’s a genre that’s like folk-blues. That’s kind of where Bob Dylan was going. It worked out in a way, getting into Delta blues, then I started writing songs like “Nicotine” that’s on the record and “To Be Kind is Sin” and I was like, “Woah, this feels much more like what I want to be doing.”
I still hadn’t recorded the folk record, and I had all these new songs and I felt like those [folk songs] weren’t who I was anymore. They were just, like, diary entries.
What was it like once Blue Oaks stopped being a solo project?
I met Cody and we started playing live and it just gets louder and louder as you play with a drummer. We started creating builds. Like the song “Nicotine,” it builds up from this John Lee Hooker shuffle and keeps getting heavier. It has very strong dynamic—it goes quiet, loud. That’s one of the things that good rock music is known for doing, like the Pixies and Nirvana.
All that early ‘90s stuff.
To be able to go down quiet and kick up, and we started doing that, which really derived from getting sick of people talking over you.
I can believe that.
When you play open mics, a lot of the people are very attentive and want to hear every verse. They’ll notice if you annunciate weird. Then once rock guitar comes into it, you can’t really hear annunciations at all. So, there’s this weird beauty, in that folk is so pure. When you end up on rock shows playing folk music, people just talk over you. It just gets really negative. It got to this point where I felt—not disconnected from the Sacramento music scene—but I felt we could do everything we could do at the time. I was putting in so much effort at the time. We had played most of the venues. We had done most of the interviews. We had gone out of the city and realized that playing out of the city was more fruitful than playing in our hometown, which was upsetting. I ended up moving to Austin. Living there and seeing a real music city that’s fully developed and has been for a long time, it’s amazing. When you’re there, you start to realize how oversaturated those cities are and how everyone is trying to “make it.” It overshadows people who are doing it honestly. I ended up spending most of my time working, not doing music and it was really isolating. I ended up missing my bandmate, Cody. I ended up going into the studio and hiring session players. We did all the songs. Going in with the session players, [the music] just kind of molded itself, but they didn’t play it how I wanted it.
They just played it the way it’s supposed to be played.
Yeah, and it’s nothing against them, but their job is to just come in and play the music. It’s not the same as you vibing with someone. Cody and I vibe together really well, always have.
It sucks because the songs were finally recorded, a lot of them sounded amazing and I paid a lot of money to be there. I could tell that Cody wasn’t happy with it and it wasn’t what the record was supposed to sound like. I ended up flying home after recording the whole album.
We recorded the whole album again in Placerville. We scrapped that, too. It sounded pretty close to what I thought it should sound like, but the quality wasn’t there. Then Cody and I thought we would go with a minimal approach and just recorded it with two mics in a room. Almost like the early Black Keys record where it’s just raw. It sounded really good, but it wasn’t the same. So, we ended up going into Gold Standard Sounds. It sounds exactly how it was supposed to sound in my imagination, which is a good feeling as a musician or as any artist. Like I [would] guess if you’re a painter and it comes out exactly how you want it. It’s never going to be perfect, but it’s just letting go of the idea of perfection and knowing that letting go is what makes it good.
You seem like a nice guy. Why is being kind sin?
I’m not going to tell what it means because I want to leave it up to interpretation, but it did come from a feeling I had growing up. The record embodies the human state, the good and evil within people and the eternal battles we have on a daily basis. I think that everyone has that, whether you’re religious or not.
There’s a moral compass in everybody.
One thing I noticed growing up is that a lot of the most righteous people were the most judgmental, hateful, negative people. A lot of the bohemian, hippie, goth, alternative kids were the most welcoming, open-minded, beautiful people. You have these judgmental people who claim to be of Christ-like descent, and it’s crazy to me that they are the ones that are seen as the non-sinners. So, the title derives from something along the lines of that. Asking “is to be kind sin if this is how the world is?”
No amount of religion is going to tell you about someone’s life experience.
The songs actually have a lot to do with that if you listen to the record. I try to leave it up to interpretation. I’m not a religious person.
I didn’t think so.
I don’t judge those who are. It’s no opinion of mine to do so. I don’t really appreciate being criticized for my personal beliefs either. It’s important that light is cast upon the things that people are too scared to talk about and the album has to do with that. I figured there’s no better title to call it because it encapsulates that feeling.
Blue Oaks’ new album To Be Kind is Sin came out Oct. 13, 2017. Watch them play the new album live in its entirety on Monday, Oct. 30, 2017, at CLARA Auditorium, located at 1425 24th Street. Doors open at 7 p.m., a $5 minimum donation is suggested, 21-and-over only. Learn more at Blueoaksmusic.com or Facebook.com/blueoaksmusic.
**This piece first appeared in print on pages 20 – 21 of issue #250 (Oct. 9 – 23, 2017)**
There are so many ways to unplug during the summers in Sacramento. From the endless opportunities to commune with nature—hiking through the breathtaking Sierra Nevada mountain range or camping in one of the many lush, verdant forests that encircle the valley instantly come to mind—to copious ways to engage with the exploding local creative culture at open-air markets, outdoor concerts and the bustling bar scene, the region is full of summertime gems.
And while the summer days are growing shorter as the fall season looms ahead, there is still plenty of time to tap into one of the region’s many hidden gems before the final sunset adorns the dusky skies.
The Lighthouse Bar and Grill, tucked away in the sleepy town of Isleton on the Delta Loop, is one of those rare jewels in the Sacramento Valley that provides the perfect excuse to trade in the hot and sweaty city for the laid-back cool that is the Sacramento-San Joaquin River Delta countryside.
Seriously, where else can you find a pirate hosting a karaoke night, your choice of waterslide or trampoline to act as the conduit for cooling off in the refreshing waters of the Sacramento River and a spot that dishes up both pub grub and boozy potions at a stupid-affordable price? Oh, and for the ultimate cool down, you can work on executing the perfect cannonball from the eatery’s rooftop into the river.
Less than an hour’s drive from downtown Sacramento, the tiki-inspired, rock ‘n’ roll saloon is a veritable toy box of good times for big kids. Perched right on the river, the Lighthouse boasts a full bar, boat parking, old-school arcade and board games, and a killer view of the river. The vibe is totally kick-back and their food offerings are legit.
On a recent jaunt out to the Loop, highlights from the kitchen included abundant salads; the Lighthouse salad, a wellspring of fresh spring lettuce, adorned with thick slices of cucumber, tomato and onion with a generous sprinkling of sunflower seeds and garbanzo beans and the shrimp Louie, Louie—a riff on both 1963 The Kingsmen hit and the classic must-have for all crustacean lovers—is a cleaned-up version with crunchy greens and a lightened-up version of the heavy Thousand Island dressing that typically weighs down the shrimp in a gloppy mess.
The Lighthouse burger also proved to be finger-licking worthy—caramelized onions and bleu cheese paired surprisingly well with the deep-fried pickle that came perched atop the beefy burger; the pickle surrounded by a light and crispy, tempura-level batter that enhanced the briny bite of the preserved vegetable.
Another surprise on the menu was the tavern’s take on the ubiquitous fried mushroom appetizer, a true staple in pub fare. The gargantuan fungi were surrounded again by the same delicate and crispy beer batter that enveloped the pickle on the Lighthouse burger but was accompanied by a tangy and mildly spicy lemon aioli.
For those unfamiliar with the area, the California Delta is comprised of 57 islands and serves as the fertile cradle of our local agricultural scene. Oenophiles flock to the region to sip from the fount of Dionysus at wineries like Bogle Vineyards and Scribner Bend while acres upon acres of farmland plays home to pear orchards, olive groves, grape vineyards and everything else in between. Located between Sacramento and Stockton, the small, quaint riverside communities that spring up along the labyrinthine river roads harken back to the steamboat and paddleboat days with their dilapidated charm.
Ask anyone who lives in the Delta and they’ll tell you, its rich history is as sordid as it is fabulous. Legend has it that mobsters and celebrities alike landed on the shores of the Delta to engage in both nefarious and opulent activities. Once the playground of Sacramento’s high society in the 1920s and ’30s—Louis J. Meyers and his wife Audrey, the daughter of David Lubin of Weinstock Lubin Department Store, built the Grand Island Mansion in 1917 and played host to such luminaries as President Franklin D. Roosevelt and actress Greta Garbo, while up the river a few miles, the Delta also served as the centerpiece of Sacramento’s bootlegging industry during Prohibition at the historic Ryde Hotel.
While the Lighthouse Bar and Grill is gearing up for its one-year anniversary celebration, the building has been a mainstay in the Delta since the 1960s, according to its current owner, Mateo Gorlione. After having seen the business change ownership several times, the former engineer turned proud barkeep decided to take on the challenge of reinvigorating what he dubbed at the time a “magical shithole.”
“The Lighthouse has been here since 1963, or some shit like that, so it has pull,” Gorlione explains. “But a lot of the [previous] owners [hadn’t realized] its potential.
A lot of people who came here thought they could just open up a shitty river rat bar and do nothing and make a bunch of money and that’s not what it’s about.”
And trust me, the place does have pull. According to Gorlione, a recent ’80s-themed party brought out more than 1,000 to the Delta’s shores—both local and far-flung partygoers looking for a reason to dust off their jelly sandals, Hammer pants and Miami Vice pastel gear.
For Gorlione, breathing new life into the Lighthouse was a homecoming of sorts—his muse has its origins in his youth when he and a few friends were inspired by the bootlegging days of yore.
“When I was 17 years old, I had a speakeasy—I rented a garage and we sold liquor to … all of my high school friends,” Gorlione explains with a wink and a nod. “I ran this thing for about two years and we never got busted, we made a shit ton of money and it was the happiest time I ever had in my life.”
It was only when the parents of his youthful patrons came knocking—not to shutter Gorlione’s side hustle, but to belly up to the bar themselves—that he was forced to shut down the speakeasy.
“I had this great thing going for about two years … and it was the happiest I’ve ever been,” Gorlione beams. “Since then, throughout my life, I’ve worked some shitty ass jobs for people I didn’t want to, chased money for way too fucking long. One day I just stopped and said, ‘When was the last time you were really happy?’ You know what, it was when I was in that stupid little speakeasy that I made when I was 17, serving drinks to my friends for basically no fucking money. We blasted vinyl all the time, played old-school ‘60s music and hung out having drinks. And that’s what I’m doing here, this is my garage.”
While many flock to The Lighthouse to work on mastering the perfect rooftop plunge or to enjoy the free live music just about every Saturday night, Gorlione says that it’s pirate, nay, “Pyrate” karaoke every Thursday night that really rocks the house.
“Pyrate karaoke, it’s fucking amazing. It’s packed as fuck, it’s lit as fuck,” Gorlione explains. “One of my best friends, Pyrate Matthew, runs a karaoke show all around the Delta, but this is his favorite spot. This guy rocks a show like you would not believe. Come on a Thursday, you just have to see it, it’s fucking great.”
As preparations continue for the tavern’s anniversary party on Sept. 9, 2017, aptly dubbed The Delta Druncathlon or the Beer Olympics, Gorlione says he and his crew are pulling out all the stops:
“We’re going to do a drunk decathlon. There will be judges sworn in, there will be teams, there will be people swimming and drinking and doing all kinds of shit, like 1987. We party like it’s 20 years ago. There’s no internet here. People don’t use phones, people actually talk to each other. There are no TVs here; there’s not one TV here. It’s not a fucking sports bar. People love each other here, it’s great.”
The Lighthouse Bar and Grill is located at 151 Brannan Island Road in Isleton. Find out more at Facebook.com/lighthousedeltaloop
**This article first appeared in print on pages 16 – 17 of issue #246 (Aug. 14 – 28, 2017)**
Race for the Arts sounds like what happens in my world every weekday at quitting time! I punch out at my day job and hurry home to make something. But what we’re talking about here is the annual 5K run/walk and Kids Fun Run that goes down in William Land Park, this year on Saturday, Aug. 26, 2017. Benefiting California nonprofits that support visual, performing, cultural and literary arts, the 19th Annual Race for the Arts culminates in a free arts festival once the finish line is crossed. Its dozens of beneficiaries include B Street Theatre, Camellia Waldorf School and Chalk it Up! Raise your heartrate while you raise money for local causes that help make our communities a more vibrant place to live. Visit Raceforthearts.com to register, pledge or volunteer.
**This write-up first appeared in print on page 10 of issue #246 (Aug. 14 – 28, 2017)**
Jon Pardi has been touring pretty much nonstop since well before his first album dropped in 2014. He was in Delaware when I caught up with him by phone in mid-July, about to headline two shows during a short break in his tour in support of Dierks Bentley.
“We never stop touring,” said Pardi. “I’ve been on tour since 2012, on the same schedule with an album and without an album.”
With a chuckle, he adds that the endless grind is “almost a problem,” but one he’s more than happy to navigate because it comes with the territory of living out a dream he’s had since he was a child growing up in Dixon and singing along to his family’s George Strait albums.
Pardi played in a local country band called Northern Comfort during the years prior to his move to Nashville. The band was based in Chico, with some members rooted in Dixon and Winters, where they would routinely jam-pack local bars on weekends throughout the mid-2000s.
Northern Comfort delivered a mix of crowd-favorite covers and a collection of raw, original country tunes that put Pardi’s promise as a songwriter abundantly on display. Songs like “Changes,” “One More Time” and “DUI” were just as popular as the covers by the time the band’s CD had made the rounds and they’d become a staple on the scene. (You can hear those songs and more if you’re willing to pick through the boneyard of the old Northern Comfort MySpace page).
Northern Comfort dissolved in the late aughts as some members finished college and began scattering into various careers and starting families. Pardi did the same, but the profession that awaited him was in Nashville. His college training for his profession, to continue this analogy, was his time spent writing and performing with Northern Comfort.
The music industry in Nashville is pretty cleanly divided between fan-facing performers and behind-the-scenes songwriters who architect the radio hits. Both scenes are vibrant and competitive, which makes it all the more impressive that Pardi managed to score writing credit on the bulk of the songs on both of his first two albums.
He did so while also touring with the biggest names in the industry, from childhood heroes like Alan Jackson to newer stars like Luke Bryan and Dierks Bentley, for whom he’ll open when he plays Toyota Amphitheatre outside Sacramento on Aug. 19, 2017.
Pardi’s music leans away from a new-age country vibe that has edged its way into modern radio—a sound that often prioritizes club-style beats over fiddles and steel guitars. That’s not by accident.
“There’s a growing audience for throwback,” Pardi says in his bio. “People want to hear somebody who really enjoyed the ‘90s country music era and brings that to 2016 country. A lot of this record is bringing an old-school flare back to a mainstream sound.”
The opening lyrics on his second album, California Sunrise, start with this: “When I first got to Nashville town they called me and sat me down and told me all about the ins and outs of writing songs. Said write about the things you know about, if there’s anything that you don’t know about, just stick around and you’ll find out before too long.”
In our conversation, we talked about everything from that arrival in Nashville and his early days playing locally, to what goes into writing and recording a modern-day country album.
How did things wind down with Northern Comfort before you left to Nashville?
The band was mainly a learning point, kind of like studying and writing music in the moment. Everyone went on with their lives and did their thing. People graduated college and wanted to go be teachers and do things they went to school for. Then there’s me who didn’t want to do any of that. But I had a lot of fun in that band and we did a lot of cool stuff.
Where did you cut your teeth in those early days?
I played in Dixon and Winters a lot; Dixon May Fair, The Wrangler, the Elk Grove area and Chico. We were based out of Chico.
Your bio says that it’s “contemporary-cool to inject country songs with programmed drums, rap phrasing and poppy melodies,” and boasts that you won’t find that on a Jon Pardi record.
L.A.-style writing has really moved into Nashville, where it’s all built on [programmed] tracks. There are a lot of others that are way into that, but we used just one drum track on the record. We had the drummer make the loops. But it’s all just preference of what you want. I still think I’m one of the few artists that has fiddle on their songs, or a steel. I’m just more of a new-traditional sound.
Wikipedia says you play “neotraditional country.” How would you describe that?
It’s a new way of presenting traditional country. I could play a show with Florida Georgia Line and a show with Alan Jackson.
Was there any hesitance in Nashville about you coming from California?
Nashville’s wide open! People come from everywhere. Everybody lets you do yourself. As soon as they start listening, they see the hard-working people and the farmers and realize it’s not just actors and surfers out in California. Nashville’s a fun town.
How and when did the #PardiAnimals hashtag on Twitter and Instagram get going?
I came up with the name. I didn’t even have fans yet, but sometimes you want a cool fanbase name. That’s the way to do it. I like thinking about fun stuff like that sometimes.
Has your rise in Nashville felt fast or slow?
We made the first record and had a top-10 gold [single] with Write You a Song. I built a fanbase off that first record. They played it on the radio and we toured around the country. We made the second record and wanted to get some number ones. Once we put California Sunrise out, we let everybody know that we’re still here. “Head Over Boots” [which reached No. 1 on the Billboard Country Airplay charts] was my first single off that.
Are you making plans for the next album?
It’s not like the old days where rock ‘n’ roll bands take two months off and shack up in a studio somewhere. It’s all pre-production. I’m going to go in and record six songs and we’ll work on them until we record more songs. The guys are excited because they’re playing pretty traditional country music.
So what will the writing and recording process look like for the next album?
Just have 16 songs by the time you’re done and then move it down to 12. Brooks & Dunn wrote “Boot Scootin’ Boogie,” but they also recorded outside songs. You hear a song and make it sound like you wrote it. Once [songwriters] know you’ll cut songs, the town comes around you. I’m always writing, too, but my goal is the best song wins. It could be as simple as writing a title. Just keep writing titles. All it takes is just writing it down, and then starting the hook.
Jon Pardi returns to Northern California on Aug. 19, 2017, opening for country superstar Dierks Bentley and Cole Swindell at the Toyota Amphitheatre in Wheatland. The show kicks off at 7 p.m. with tickets starting at $32.25 and available now at Livenation.com.
**This interview first appeared in print on pages 12 – 13 of issue #245 (July 31 – Aug. 14, 2017)**
Standing in front of a blank wall bigger than a basketball court with 800 cans of spray paint and a surgical mask at the ready sounds like a scary adrenaline rush. But it’s a small piece of heaven for Michael McDaniel—an opportunity for the heart, mind and spirit to relax and create.
After living a childhood with uncontrolled psychosis that led to drug abuse and long stints in psychiatric hospitals, McDaniel’s spirituality helped him find a path to reality, and it included painting and helping others with their mental illness to be independent and creative.
McDaniel, 48, has been painting in Sacramento for nearly a decade. He has also been a case manager since 2005 at Transforming Lives, Cultivating Success (TLCS), a nonprofit that works to empower people who have mental illnesses and to prevent homelessness.
At TLCS, McDaniel has facilitated an art class for several years and has worked with more than 80 clients who struggle every day with psychotic symptoms, using art to provide them with a source of comfort and a way to express themselves.
“Art is in everything, and the greatest work of art is the human being,” McDaniel says. “I want to be able to share my artwork and use it to create community.”
McDaniel says he pictures these murals alongside community gardens, where students can learn about the importance of their environment in multiple ways.
Founder and producer of Wide Open Walls, David Sobon, has a similar goal. For Sobon, an international mural festival in Sacramento is the perfect way to build community, provide for underfunded art education, create landmarks, spur the economic engine and, ultimately, provide free, beautiful, art to all people.
Wide Open Walls (WOW), formerly the Sacramento Mural Festival, will feature McDaniel and 39 other artists—local, national and international—to transforming walls and neighborhoods across the city. He and 2 Hermano, of Sol Collective, are the two individual artists chosen through WOW’s commitment to supporting local nonprofits at the event.
Transformation is a key theme for this year’s WOW festival, which runs Aug. 10–20, 2017. Sobon has taken over last year’s inaugural Sacramento Mural Festival, run by Friends of the Arts Commission, and turned it into the largest event of its kind. No other mural festival has had 40 artists—many of them world renowned—create 40 murals in less than two weeks in one city, Sobon says.
The aim is to build upon the rich art culture of Sacramento that already permeates city walls, Sobon adds.
“I love going to museums—the Crocker is one of the best museums on the West Coast—and I love going to all the galleries around town, but I want to bring art to everyone, and bring art to everyone for free,” Sobon says about his vision. “Bringing art to everyone is not a new concept at all, I just want to bring it to the next level.”
For him, the next level means continuously adding new murals to the list of nearly 700 that already exist in the Sacramento area (check out Nathaniel Miller’s interactive mural map, to which Miller will be adding each WOW piece: Journalistnate.com/sacramento-mural-map/) and putting Sacramento on the international stage.
WOW seems a perfect companion to the Crocker’s current special exhibit, The First 10 Years of Hi-Fructose, which showcases many contemporary artists who are, or started out as, street artists.
Excitement is already building for artists like Lora Zombie—frequently featured in Hi-Fructose magazine—a self-taught, self-described grunge artist, who has gained a massive online following across the world with her pop culture and cartoon-inspired watercolor paintings and wall murals.
Through her art, she shares her mind and colors, which are influenced by her path, Zombie writes from her home in Russia.
“Sharing inspiration with as many people as possible,” Zombie says, is part of the importance of art accessibility. Inspiration—from American cartoons, comic books and the Gorillaz—is what led the down her to becoming an artist, she notes in her explanation of her latest project, a clothing line called HEROTIME.
Wanting to join Zombie Flesh Eaters, the studio behind the Gorillaz, she changed her name and flew to London at 16.
“I looked up the address for the Zombie Flesh Eaters studio and rang the doorbell with my portfolio in hand, and a lady opened the door, looked at me and unsure of what to make of me, promptly closed it again,” Zombie writes. “I learned an important lesson at the time about the discrepancy between the desired and the actual, and the need to have a flexible mind that is ready for introspection and change.”
For the next decade, Zombie chose to create her own work. The emergence of street art from those like Banksy, and online forums that followed, catapulted her to star status.
Her mural on R Street for WOW, she says, will be about a feeling of gratitude to the universe.
“I warned R Street, Lora just did a West Coast tour … she had thousands and thousands of people waiting in line to get her autograph, and meet her, and take selfies with her,” Sobon says. “They’re going to have a lot of people on R Street coming to watch her paint. Or coming to watch Molly Devlin and S.V. Williams paint on the side of the Foundry. And Micah Crandall-Bear is going to be painting behind the SMUD station next to Beatnik [Studios].”
Sobon continues, “When our artists are painting in the same venue, the same event, the same festival, we get the attention of not just sponsors worldwide but organizations like Visit Sacramento—I mean, Visit Sacramento is our presenting sponsor and I could not be more thrilled,” Sobon says, eyes wide, punctuating each word for emphasis. “When we have the agency that is in charge of marketing Sacramento globally, thinking that this is the biggest event in town, that it could add more beauty, more long-term benefits than anything else we’re doing, it gets me pretty excited.”
Sobon notes that the murals will go up not just on the grid, but also in outlying areas like the River District, where an increasing number of Sacramentans experiencing homelessness are struggling to find help.
“Art is for everyone, and they deserve beautiful art like everyone else,” Sobon notes.
Power Inn Alliance, the business alliance for the vast commercial/industrial area around Power Inn Road, is also a partner, wanting to bring beauty among the rows of warehouses. Particular attention has been given to Sacramento’s Promise Zone, which encompasses 22 square miles of the economically hardest-hit neighborhoods in the city—from Del Paso Heights in the North Area to The Avenues in the South County. Sobon says the art is a catalyst to spur more activity, tourism and interest beyond downtown and Midtown.
He adds that WOW will only get bigger, and he’s already received calls from Citrus Heights, Roseville and other communities.
“Our supporters include the California Endowment, SMUD and Bank of America, but the support of private citizens has been important,” he says. “It has to be art for everyone and everyone has to be able to apply, and it has to include all cultures, be inclusive and expanded to other neighborhoods.”
Sponsors assist in paying for materials and to get the artists to Sacramento, and businesses and landlords pay for the opportunity to have a mural, with additional revenue going toward art education.
“I’d love to inspire art education and teach kids how to do this art form correctly,” Sobon says. “Teach them the rules and do murals in their schools in their neighborhoods.”
The purpose is similar to why murals started going up in Sacramento in the first place, 40 years ago.
The Royal Chicano Air Force (RCAF), a Sacramento-based art collective that started with the name Rebel Chicano Art Front in 1970, led much of the public art scene in Sacramento to promote political awareness, educate and feed youth, and foster support for Cesar Chavez and the United Farm Workers.
The impact of founders Jose Montoya and Esteban Villa is still widely felt in the region, and continues to be integral to the Chicano Art Movement in the western United States.
That tradition of accessibility and social responsibility is what Sobon hopes to continue. WOW will include opportunities for the public to engage with the artists at gallery openings, public mural tours, artists’ receptions and panels, First Friday and Second Saturday celebrations, the Wall Ball—an art-themed fundraiser for arts education—and while the artists are actually creating their large-scale works.
Sobon and curator Warren Brand gathered artists by both invitation and with a public call for artists. The final 40 will create works diverse as Sacramento and each bring a different perspective to mural art and participation in some of the most ignored alleys and streets.
McDaniel’s mural is set to go up at 917 Seventh St. in Improv Alley, just one of many alleys downtown sprinkled with art but that leave much to be desired.
His mural of the American River will show the greater universe above and below it.
“Light and water and matter create this incredible reality we get to experience,” McDaniel says of his concept, as he shares childhood memories of growing up with the American River in his backyard, and of fishing, hiking and biking. His paintings often include a bearded iris in memory of his mother, who suggested he start painting as a way to help him through his mental illness.
He includes the flower for a second reason.
“One day I was riding my bike with my camera and I stopped outside Sacramento State where I first saw this bearded iris, and started crying, ‘Dang Lord, I’m almost 30 years old and I’ve never seen a flower like this?’ It humbled me and reminded me that life can be beautiful but can also be like a vapor.”
The thought matches the reality of street art—that it is, ultimately, temporary.
Sobon hopes that the murals created as part of WOW gain the same respect and recognition of those historic pieces around town that have been preserved over decades.
But even he’s not worried about losing this form of art.
“Last year, we only did one mural in Jazz Alley as part of the festival, but five more have gone up since then because artists got permission from landlords to do more,” he says. “A lot of artists are just looking for canvases to paint on. And festivals like this bring legitimacy to street art.”
You’ll have several opportunities before, during and after Wide Open Walls to experience the art of more than 40 muralists descending on Sacramento during the month of August. For a chance to purchase art and swag, visit Beatnik Studios Aug. 4–25, 2017, for the WOW gallery show, which will have more than 50 pieces on display for sale. The reception is Aug. 4. To check out the full list of WOW events, learn more about the artists, and donate to the cause, visit Wow916.com and follow WOW on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter.
**This article first appeared in print on pages 20 – 21 of issue #245 (July 31 – Aug. 14, 2017)**
When Butterscotch plopped down in my dining room, I noticed she was wearing a Tupac shirt, which shot me back to the ‘90s, when everyone was like, “Keep it real.” Remember that? No? That’s because you’re 12-years-old. Well, let me tell you a little something about the old days: They were stupid, and when people said “keep it real,” what they actually meant was, “Look mad as fuck and wear Timberland boots,” which led to entire suburban school districts full of kids who thought they were Tupac. But here’s the thing, not even Tupac was the cartoonish version of Tupac. Tupac Amaru Shakur was a poet, an artist, a dancer, a revolutionary and a thinker. In an interview from 1988, the 17-year-old said, “Ain’t no secret, the world is in bad shape. So we have to do a lot of good things.” It’s a beautiful thing for a teenager to say.
I’m always reminded that the reason people love Tupac isn’t because he wore bandanas and spat at cameras (OK, no, I actually love that shit); people love him because of his complexity, his commitment to intellect, and even his hypocrisy. Tupac was nothing if not authentic. He truly wanted to make the world a better place, and it wasn’t until people got in his way that he tried to destroy them. He was the perfect image of a beautifully imperfect human.
Peace, love, and positivity
That’s why I’m always excited to talk with Antoinette Clinton, known by most as Butterscotch, who seems to be in the midst of some sort of self-awakening, on the brink of becoming not just a musician, but a leader.
Over a glass of water (half full), she speaks candidly about the past several years since she was a finalist on America’s Got Talent, how she’s had to make difficult choices and her recent quest to find an authentic artistic self, a distinct path that will allow her to change the world on her own terms without having to bow to the god of mass appeal. “For 10 years, it’s been, ‘She was on America’s Got Talent!’ and I’m just like, ahhh, I’m more than that!” While she’s kidding, I imagine that kind of thing—being pigeonholed as a one-dimensional reality show character—can really be frustrating, especially since the guitar-and-piano-playing, beatboxing-and-rapping virtuoso has been working hard to gift the world with her grand artistic gestures.
“I fully feel who I am and what I’m supposed to do and my purpose. It’s to inspire and I know that a lot of people have gone through the same things as me and it’s to give motivation and purpose to others and to encourage them to keep going,” she says. “And also just to make them feel good.”
She also understands that in order to make fans happy, she has to be happy, too. “I’m trying to do more things that not only help me grow, but that are fun and that inspire me. I’ve done corporate stuff which pays really well, but it doesn’t feed the soul,” she says.
“I’m trying to do more soul-fulfilling events.”
Narratives
While she’s been out as a gay woman for about 10 years, Butterscotch wasn’t always super open about it. She never hid the fact that she was gay; she simply didn’t talk about it.
“It’s not easy when the majority of the world is judging you and you have to be super comfortable and confident to know that’s who you are,” she says.
She recently performed at SF Pride and will perform at DTLA Proud Festival at the end of August, and her single “Accept Who I Am” marks a sort of turn in her career where she is not simply “out,” she’s claiming her sexuality and drawing a line in the sand in the name of LGBTQ people. The second verse of the song is where shit gets heated: “It’s none of your business if I’ve slept with a woman or a man/ Frankly I don’t give a damn what you think, I’m a freak, what I do in the sheets, doesn’t concern you, I don’t/ understand, why you care so much, why do you people stare so much, why you point and glare so much,/ Like you’re the one to judge/ Living your fucked up life you can’t get enough.”
Damn.
Her latest single “We Are All We Got” is equally as civic-minded, with an attention to human connection and a call to spread your narrative throughout the world, even if that narrative causes discomfort.
“We’re told that we’re ugly because we’re black or we’re told that we’re sinful because we’re gay, and people have committed suicide for these reasons, so we have to celebrate ourselves to appreciate ourselves,” she says. “It’s more important than ever to share our stories.”
The AGT curse
I have a feeling that no matter where she goes, Butterscotch will always be the one from America’s Got Talent, which is why she’s wary about the many offers she’s received to be on other televised talent competition shows. “I’ve been approached several times. I don’t want to be known as that,” she says.
But that doesn’t mean you’ll never see her on TV again. “If it was about music and would focus on my story, then sure,” she says. “The only thing is that people thrive on drama, so it would have to be carefully crafted. But I’m a pretty open person.” Butterscotch pauses. “Well, semi-open,” she says, laughing.
This careful weighing of opportunities (“I’m not that much into astrology, but I’m a Libra. I weigh everything,” she says) is something that’s foreign to someone like me, a garbage human born with zero self-control (I’m a Gemini). If someone offered me a reality show, I’d probably buy some bigass sunglasses, quit my job, move to Los Angeles and never speak to normal people again. But since Butterscotch has a highly functioning brain, she is able to weigh each opportunity with the help of her girlfriend, who asks a simple question: “Would you be proud of it?” It was this question that led Butterscotch to pass on the opportunity to appear on Showtime at the Apollo. If it’s just for exposure, and not contributing to the nourishment of soul, she won’t do it.
Industry rule No. 4,080 …
“It’s a rough industry,” Butterscotch says about showbiz. “Fortunately, I’m pretty good at networking.” This talent has led her to perform at the Hatch conference in Montana, where creative professionals (filmmakers, artists, entrepreneurs, the guy who created Siri, etc.) gathered to listen to each other talk and to trade ideas.
Her knack for networking also led to one of my favorite Butterscotch appearances, her 2016 talk at the Peace of Mind Storytellers event, where she addressed mental health issues and how art helped her overcome some serious shit. “I used to cut my arms all the time. It was a deep and dark time for me,” she said in front of the crowd. She talked about how music saved her life, but also how she had mentors that told her she should stay in the closet, that she “should get a fake boyfriend.” She fell into a deep state of depression and wondered if music was the way. “I wanted to shave my head and move to Spain,” she joked. Her willingness to spread her narrative with grace and humor and to commit her life to assisting others has helped her deal with her own demons.
“In the end, it’s just like, fuck it,” she says, “so you might as well love your life and do what’s best for you.”
It’s exciting to fathom what’s next in Butterscotch’s quest toward self-fulfillment. No doubt she’ll extend her generosity toward youth who need it the most: the depressed, the unsure, the outsiders, the outcasts, the humans who feel like they need a purpose and can’t find one. For these souls, Butterscotch offers a bit of advice: “Find your support system, whether it be a teacher, a friend, a family member, there’s always going to be someone out there who does understand and people that will help, even if it’s me,” she says. “You can reach out to me.”
That’s real.
Catch Butterscotch at the Girls Rock Sacramento Benefit Concert presented by the California Women’s Music Festival on Saturday, Aug. 5, at Ace of Spades, located at 1417 R. St. in Sacramento. General admission tickets for the show, which also features new wave mainstays Missing Persons and an array of local acts, are available in advance for $25 at Cwmusicfest.com or Aceofspadessac.com.
If you caught a minivan pulling up to the Warehouse Artist Lofts on Thursday and thought, “Who is this earthy motherfucker?” there is a strong chance it was Miles Toland. Especially if it was between 3:30 and 4 p.m., because that’s when I was standing outside thinking that.
The New Mexico native has re-situated himself in Grass Valley and has quickly caught traction within the local arts community. His current show, Dreamer, opened July 7, 2017, at 1810 Gallery. He is also participating in the Wide Open Walls mural festival in August, alongside some interesting picks like Micah Crandall-Bear, and one of Sacramento’s most-sought-after muralists, Jose Di Gregorio.
Toland’s previous shows and extensive traveling throughout India have helped him become a versatile artist. His work translates fluidly from canvas to bare concrete walls alongside street food vendors.
His work in Dreamer fills each frame with billows of vapor that writhe through and around human forms. Patterns and elemental shapes morph into human forms, quickly allowing the viewer to get lost in a space between the physical world and an ethereal plane.
All of these pieces utilize some letter structures inspired by Toland’s engagement in graffiti as an adolescent growing up in Santa Fe. Bold letter strokes in a style born both out of hand-styles and Sanskrit writing collide with a soft, dusty palette of colors and patterns.
This collision allows the viewer to wander around in the different opacities, before landing on saturated, fine line-work. The faces seem to evaporate like Marty McFly in Back to the Future, while motifs and geometric patterning re-emerge into the void.
After walking around asking strangers in the parking lot if they were Miles Toland, I took a peek into the 1810 Gallery before we lined up some shots and beers and talked about his art, dreaming and hallucinogens for a while.
(Another note: He literally sold a piece as we were sitting at the bar. Like, it wasn’t even done or open yet, it was only on the wall for the 30 minutes we had been talking, and he sold one. It was awesome.)
Inhale | Acrylic on Wood | 48″ x 36″ | 2016 (left) & Drift | Acrylic on Wood | 40″ x 30″ | 2016 (right)
So where has graffiti played into where you are or your style in general?
Well, my introduction to art really started through graffiti in Santa Fe, New Mexico, when I was a teenager. So it was all about letter structure, form and flow, how different parts of the letter fit together with the other. So the letterforms and the typeface I use in Dreamer kind of derived from that origin, but mixed with the Asian influence of Sanskrit, and also the cholo, calligraffiti style of the West Coast.
Who were some of your local influences in that area?
My biggest connection was to the TNR crew, a couple of those writers took me under their wing and showed me a lot of techniques and tactics to use in graffiti. Perish, Furious and Hick were the most influential letter styles for me. They kind of have a diverse range among those three people.
How has graffiti influenced the way you approach art in general?
I’d say that graffiti has kept me humble and more in it for the sake of art. I, like, definitely have a foot in the fine art world, and the street art world, and the festival world. The street art world has kept me a little more down to do something for the sake of doing it, and not necessarily making a profit. Finding a really cool wall or abandoned space that seems like it could benefit from my own artistic input. It’s kept me more lighthearted and humble.
Flippin’ Jimmy | AMC’s Better Call Saul | Acrylic on Faux Concrete | 2015
So how did the Better Call Saul thing come about? It’s just such a random thing to catch in an episode and wonder where that piece comes from or the process involved in getting art as part of setting the scene in a pivotal point in the season.
My friend was connected to the interior designing on Better Call Saul, and she gave them my contact.
It’s open to interpretation, but I think in the context of the show, it was someone slipping. In the context that it was originally painted, which was in India, it was someone in this geometric abduction, whose body was dissolving into this harmonic, geometric grid, and it was more like playing with this idea of, are they falling or floating, or exploding or imploding, and kind of creating this state of euphoria and transcendence where you forget who you are and your identity, and you dissolve into this different substance.
Are there moments that you have found through using psychedelics that have brought transcendental moments, and does that influence your art?
Totally. Yeah and I like finding it through the avenue of hallucinogens and breath-work and meditations. I think there are so many facets to dreamlife, which is what this show is about, it’s called Dreamer, and it’s about accessing the pineal gland, and dissolving into different dreamscapes. I think that there are a lot of parallels where you forget who you are, and you go into these psychedelic realms.
Were you out in India partly to see the Beatles’ ashram or did that opportunity materialize on your trip?
I started going around in India, and painting at different places, and ended up meeting a couple, that invited me out to paint the Beatles’ ashram.
They had been painting there for a number of years, and they invited me to come out there and paint it. That was a huge milestone to me, because we had as much time as we wanted to create. They had given permission to me to paint what I wanted.
Blackbird | Beatles’ ashram | Rishikesh, India | 2016
Where do you feel like you are going from right here?
I have short-term projects that are keeping my trajectory pretty focused. But beyond half a year, I am pretty open.
What about your van, how much longer do you expect that to last?
[Laughs] I’m terrified of how long my van is going to last me, because I’m so attached to it. This van has been my home away from home. I just did a three-week-long road trip across the Southwest with my girlfriend. It’s big enough that it can hold all my art stuff and my girlfriend’s stuff and then still comfortably sleep in there. I’m hoping it will last as long as I need it to, but it’s got over 200,000 miles on it. I keep having nightmares that I’m fixing my car.
Do you ever have nightmares about your teeth falling out?
Yes. Actually, I’ve had dreams the opposite, where my two front teeth are growing exponentially fast.
Breathe Deep | Acrylic on Wood | 40″ x 30″ | 2016 (left) & Rudraksha | Art Street | Sacramento | 2017 (right)
That teeth thing at the end kind of freaked us out … Nevertheless, you should totally check out Miles Toland’s show Dreamer at 1810 Gallery (1810 12th St., Sacramento). The closing reception is Saturday, July 29 from 6 – 10 p.m. For more info, go to Facebook.com/1810gallery. You can also see Toland’s mural work at 1330 N B Street as part of Wide Open Walls, which will take place Aug. 10–20, 2017. For more on that event, go to Wow916.com.
**This interview first appeared in print on pages 16 – 17 of issue #244 (July 17 – 31, 2017)**
Glitchy sounds, beeps, beats and synths pound hard as colorful lights flash in time. At the touch of buttons and keys, Little Boots, a swaying British blonde, holds the pulsing crowd in the palms of her hands. Electropop. Heavy but sweet, it moves you.
English-born Victoria Christina Hesketh was once in a relatively successful all-girl electropunk band called Dead Disco, but when she emerged as a solo artist under the moniker Little Boots, she topped the BBC Sound of 2009 poll even before she released her debut album, Hands. Since then, she’s toured internationally, played Coachella and released three full-length LPs and a handful of EPs.
She’ll be visiting Sacramento for the first time on July 8 for a DJ gig at THIS is Midtown, a summertime Second Saturday block party that posts up in front of the MARRS building on 20th between J and K streets [Editor’s note: Due to unforeseen Visa issues, Little Boots unfortunately had to cancel her Sacramento appearance after our interview took place]. She asked me, “What’s good in Sacramento?” and I told her THE FOOD, like, eat three meals here, and explained the whole farm-to-fork thing. And that there’s lots of trees and to visit the river. She said she was really excited to come here. Here’s the rest of my conversation with Hesketh, who is as articulate as she is charming and talented.
You’re going to love THIS is Midtown. It’s a great fit for your music and what I perceive to be your audience. What can fans expect when they come see your DJ set?
It’s booked as part of this blog haus night. It’s a throwback to this early 2000s electro sound, so they want me to play that kind of thing, which is fun, because that’s around when I first started doing solo music and a lot of that early stuff was that sort of “hype the club”… so I guess it’ll be kind of a throwback set. I did one recently in L.A., it was fun, and everyone was going crazy!
Why do you call yourself Little Boots?
It’s kind of like a stupid nickname from a friend, because I’ve got small feet.
So it has nothing to do with Julius Caesar?
No, although she was aware of that when she started calling me that.
What are you working on right now outside of touring?
I’m working on a new EP at the moment. It’s kind of house-y, and it’s all female mixers and masters, so it’s kind of a girl power project. I’m working with some really cool female producers from Berlin. There are two tracks and we’re getting a couple more done, and hoping that will come out later this year. It’s really nice doing an all-female project. I’ve realized in 10 years of producing music I’ve worked with one woman and all the rest were men, so it’s a good time to do something female-focused.
What’s it like for you, being a female musician. Do you feel women have to objectify themselves to be successful, or that you have to be a role model for young female fans? What’s it mean to you to be a musician and female?
I think you just have to focus on being a good musician and not focus too much on gender.
Do the best you can, be as creative as you can, stand up for your opinions, be confident, and try to not get too bogged down with that stuff. Obviously it’s an important conversation, especially in the last couple of years. It’s become really fashionable and talked about, which I think is a really great thing, but you’ve got to just be really good at what you do and just have confidence in yourself and in what you’re creating, regardless of your gender. Don’t let that get in the way of anything.
Would you say your music has evolved over time, and if so how, since you started being a solo artist?
Absolutely. It’s funny because when I first started out I was doing quite left field stuff, like singles with Joe from Hot Chip and alternatives to more, like, dance producers, and when I got signed, the first record was more of a pop production, it was a lot more commercial. I’ve come full circle now and gotten back in touch with my origins, especially DJing a lot—it all ties into that world. It’s kind of nice to be able to take elements from the big shiny pop world and mix them with the more underground dance elements, and appeal to a wider audience.
Over time, what’s been really important to me is going from a major label and being part of that whole machine to being an independent artist and understanding how my business can run. Being in control of my creative output means I can ultimately do what I want and gives me a lot more focus and freedom. I feel more liberated when I’m creating stuff now. But I really have to focus and get things done because it’s only me.
So you’re self-releasing your own albums now.
Yeah, I have my own record label. Sometimes I partner with other labels but generally I self-release. I art direct stuff, write all the songs obviously, co-produce it … just try to be as involved as possible in every stage of the process, from writing to distribution, really.
What sorts of things do you do for fun when you’re not writing, recording, touring and promoting?
What?! You mean there’s other things you can do apart from those? I mean, I do do music all the time. I travel a lot, I’m in between L.A. and the U.K. all the time. I’m writing songs for other musicians, I do some art. I also have this startup company called Loop, that’s like a website insider guide, like a city guide, created by bands and DJs who are on the road and touring to share their favorite clubs and bars and stuff. So a lot of my projects are work, but they don’t feel like work.
What instruments do you play?
I’ve played piano since I was, like, 5, and I play a few other classical instruments, but since I was a teenager I’ve gotten really into electronic things. So I’ve collected lots of gadgets. I’ve gotten quite known for playing this thing called a Tenori-on, which is like a Japanese gadget that emits a sequence of lights … lots of synthesizers, old ones, new ones, analog ones, digital ones. Anything that’s tactile and is more like a toy, a gadget, than an instrument. I prefer that sort of thing.
I made this dress that kind of lights up to the music. I’m really into things that are electronic music but also a visual representation of electronic sound.
Did you say that you made that dress?!
Well, I collaborated with someone actually, it was a creative project for VICE, and it reacts to the music you’re playing.
Are you going to be wearing that when you come to Sacramento?
No [laughs loudly]. It was really uncomfortable. It was like a swimsuit, it was incredibly unflattering. It looked cool when it was dark, but when the lights went up, that was another story. Kind of like wearing
a mattress.
Editor’s note: At the time of our interview, Little Boots was scheduled to DJ at THIS is Midtown on Saturday, July 8, 2017, but unfortunately she had to cancel and did not make it to Sacramento. THIS is Midtown still happens every second Saturday. The free event is located between J and K streets on 20th Street in front of the MARRS building and features music, vendors, beer garden, activities and more. Find out more on their Facebook, Instagram or Twitter pages (@thisismid916).
