May issue #5

SODAPOP People Music Life Photography

Tycho Taking Back

Sunday & The Used

Meet Photographer: Chris Fitzgerald Antithesis to Coachella Why Brew Beer?

Issue #5

SODAPOP April 2014 Issue #5

CONTENT Letter From The Editor

STAFF

Sunday Mornings

Editor In Chief: Edwin Monico Managing Editor: Phil Riggs

We are NOT Hippies, We Only Wish

Executive Editor: Caitie Hanahan Art Director: Claude Leco Creative Director: Daniel Moutray Staff Writers: Andrew Mercado Staff Photographer: Abraham Cuenca, Jessica Rodriguez

I Love You The In Betweens with Chris Fitzgerald Brokechella

Graphic Artist: Gian Bautista

Oak Street Blues

CONTRIBUTORS

A Review of Joe

Writers: Dakotah, Allison Matyus Photographer: Matt Morck

COVER Photographer: Chris Fitzgerald Model: Paige B. Photography and articles belong to their respective photographers/writers and are used by Sodapop Magazine with permission. No reproductions are authorized without permission from Sodapop.

Any questions, comments, and/or concerns can be directed to contact@sodapopmagazine.com

Tune in, Turn off, Drop out - A Tycho Experience Why Brew Beer?

Spotlight Photographer: Obiwolf

Letter From The Editor Words straight from the boss.

This month was relatively slow, but nevertheless, fun. We’re looking for interns in different parts of the world to join our family here at Sodapop.

If you’re interested, visit www.sodapopmagazine.com to learn how to become part of our family. This issue we have the antithesis to Coachella out of Downtown Los Angeles called Brokechella. We also met up with photographer Chris Fitzgerald in a piece that was more about the experience of doing a shoot than actually seeing the finished product. We also get intimate with Tycho. Plus we’d never leave you hanging without shedding some light on your dream woman with our Sunday Mornings model. If you like what you see, add Sodapop on instagram @sodapopmagazine and share the magazine.

Sunday Mornings Madilyn Madilyn is a model out of Visalia, California and the author of the book I Love You Disease Handbook

What kind of people do you surround yourself with?

Madilyn: I associate with people who challenge me and that I can learn from.

I enjoy being alone, though. I’m at a point in my life where I’m just working on myself.

How do you feel about nudity?

Madilyn: I love being nude at home, but in front of the camera I’m a bit shy sometimes.

Are you outgoing?

Madilyn: Social butterfly here!

Beers or wine?

Madilyn: I don’t know it depends on my mood. I love moscato champagne. I like the sweet stuff.

What do you like about a man?

Madilyn: Intelligence, work ethic, and honorable. I like my men a little aged also.

If you want to learn more about Madilyn follow her instagram at @madilynjanell

We Are NOT Hippies, We Only Wish Article: Allison Matyus

A young writer who believes herself hip, Lauren Martin, claims our generation, Generation Y, can be likened to that of the 60s culture. Martin, writing in Elite Daily- the online publication of the “Voice of Generation-Y”, compares millennials as modern day hippies. Apparently, we smoke a lot of weed, wear tie-dye, and go to music festivals (where most of us don’t even know the names of the artists playing), so that automatically means we are “flower children.” With more than 50 years since the 1960s, we couldn’t be further from the days of protest and free love. We are our own generation, with a nostalgia for the past, and doing a horrible job at mimicking it.

Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines “hippie” as, “a usually young person who rejects the mores of established society and advocates a nonviolent ethic; broadly : a long-haired unconventionally dressed young person.” Martin seems to describe a “hippie” as, “defying our parents’ idea of a ‘real’ job, inhabiting dirty studio apartments and attending festivals by the sea.”

Martin seems to be confused as to what a hippie actually is.

The actual flower children of the 60s were the first major counterculture generation and refused mainstream norms like getting a job in an office, or a haircut for that matter. They listened to music that

talked about sex and drugs, but were the most peaceful and kind people, regardless if they were high from marijuana or not. Stereotypes aside, these people believed in peace and love, and fought for it. They did not judge those who were different, and welcomed all types of people with open arms.

Fast forward to our generation. Take a look around you: you see most young people going to a college their parents are paying for, engaging in acts of violence left and right, and caring more about Miley Cyrus than the revolution in Ukraine. The fact is, we rely on our iPhones instead of reading books, drive more than we walk, and are quick to judge others.

Even those who do coin themselves modern day hippies are anything but. They may have dreadlocks and worship Phish, but if you say you don’t like Phish, they will be the first to judge you. These self-labeled hippies are in college getting degrees and going to music festivals, overdosing on designer drugs laced with who knows what. Should have just stuck with the weed, man.

None of what our generation is, or stands for, relates to the 60s. Martin is quick to relate the legalization of weed to our generation, but guess who actually legalized it?

Old hippies that got into politics. “We” did nothing to make weed legal, except maybe shed the stereotypes of a

typical pot smoker which helped the marijuana image ease up a bit.

Martin also relates that we are in “a time of rock and roll.”

Please, I beg you to name a band or artist today that even comes close to Led Zeppelin or The Beatles. In my opinion, we have pretty crappy music. You can thank Skrillex and Kanye West, who by the way are the ones headlining all these current day music festivals Martin so quickly relates to “Woodstock”. As if.

Our generation flashes the peace sign, buys portable turntables, and decorates with tapestries in hopes of reliving the golden years that were the 60s. The fact is, we are our own generation, with new likes and dislikes, and that is OK. Let’s stop defining ourselves and just be who we are so our kids can wish they lived when we did. We can have a nostalgia for the past, but it’s time to make our own future.

It is ok to like The Grateful Dead, but unless you were there to see Jerry Garcia in the flesh, please don’t call yourself a hippie.

ILove You

Article: Dakotah

I find myself rudely addicted to love. At every proverbial intersection, some unfortunate emotion contradicts the pure thoughts that invoke my action. I can literally hear the breaking of my heart with every somber step further into the darkness. What echoes in the night causes a reverberation, stinging my senses and reminding me that I am truly alone.

People are nice. They listen. They respond. They demonstrate kindness without expectation and assume themselves to be altruistic. But they don’t hold my hand.

They don’t call me at two in the morning to share a bad dream or tell me that the entire system is flawed.

Whenever I feel a connection, it is the wireless connection of an outdated router, not the pure hardwired connection of actual high-speed Internet.

I have loved and I have lost. There was a girl that spoke my language, but her pain was not my cross to bear. There were those that were attracted, like a magnet sticks to steel, but eventually they lost polarity. When the thrill is gone, the excitement dies and the ride is over. And without a thrill, without a rapid force of ecstasy, one can only cry.

The girl holding the other can, attached with string to the can in my hand, speaks only in rhymes. Her voice is soft, but her words are harsh. Something tells me that she would be happier without me, and whether or not it is true, it hurts nonetheless. Our bond is a fool’s quest.

Were I to seek that which completed me, I would find embrace. I would find an equal madness that mirrored the blunt insanity inherent to my life. Something that exuded weakness without admitting error, something that bled passion without sacrificing imagination. If the end of the night is just a myth, a sunrise without a name, then how can I stand to be left in

the light, forgotten and wandering?

My visage reflects the relationships I witness. I see suffering at the hands of couples becoming each other, choosing to take the easy way out rather than end the charade. Perhaps love is a fool’s bargain and perhaps the fool is the only one laughing. He who laughs loudest laughs last.

Once upon a time, there was a dragon held high in a tower. Her ambition ran dry as the knights of plenty masqueraded about, pretending to win her heart on a weekly basis. However, each successful bedding was only the result of a series of fortunate events. Each idea of joy blended into the next and got carried away, reminiscing about simpler times.

Meanwhile, I am alone with the entire world in my corner. This boxing match should have ended in round 1 and yet, 24 years later, I’m still wearing the mouthguard.

I’m still just a pawn acting out the deontological activities thrust upon me by Jehovah God. Surrounded by those that seem to care, loneliness is a bitter drink to swallow.

With every ace in my sleeve, a royal flush is down the drain.

What if love is a drug, like that Ke$ha song? Not just something to embrace but something to avoid, something to seek support groups for and something that brings the end of happiness? It is a high ride at first with a sudden stop, a biological imperative that reduces the cravings of flesh to the sadness of monotony. Brain chemicals can only describe so many levels of experience before melting away into the loss of ego.

I do not know where I am. If life had a map, my current location would be uncharted. Lucky for me, there is no coordinate relevant to the phenomenon and each subsequent moment is as tumultuous as the previous.

The docks of Hades are booked for at least the next lifetime and without a stick to shake, my mind beckons for the undiscovered.

So many happy people with a kid and a spouse and a dog and a lawn and a goddamn prayer. They have the American dream whether they know it or not and their absolute madness is the balancing act, the circus sideshow, of eternity. What is better than choosing to be correct?

Without a flag, you cannot be a country. Without a cause, you cannot be a rebel. Without a corruption charge, you cannot be a leader. Without simple rejection, you cannot be accepted. Rock ‘n roll is the devil’s candy and sex is just a four letter word.

I want to feel something. I crave the release of the novel. I seek random chance and employ those who will listen to ignore the teachings of those that came before.

Today is not yesterday and tomorrow will never come again. If my lover cannot understand the chaos that is my psyche, the complete lack of precaution that I am so careful to maintain, they will not succeed.

Please meditate. Find yourself. Know thyself. Walk in the woods and forget the path. There is no cure for the rampant discourse of bullshit currently contaminating planet Earth. But the girl out there for me speaks in riddles and only ever presents herself as a knower of truth. Be afraid to be alone, but don’t fall in love to escape the fear.

The in betweens with

Chris Fitzgerald Article: Edwin Monico

When a photo shoot happens, pictures are taken and brief relationships are made.

Once the shoot is completed, everybody goes their separate ways and the experiences used to create the final images are lost. This piece is about the in betweens and the lost experiences.

I met up with Chris Fitzgerald, a fashion/ portrait photographer, currently residing in Los Angeles. Hailing from Memphis, Tennessee, Chris is an interesting soul, a former tattoo artist, and a punk band front man. After weeks of planning and synchronizing our movements, we agreed to meet up Easter weekend in Los Angeles at a coffee shop in the Arts District. I arrived early to the establishment and Chris arrived shortly thereafter. Initially we crossed paths, but didn’t realize it. After a brief moment, this was cleared up, we said our hellos, and ordered espresso.

Chris was wearing a black and grey skull tee with jeans and a hat that I think alluded to Point Break, but I could be wrong, Johnny Utah. He rocked a beard, gauges, and bore no “spiritual famine”, as Burroughs would say. We sat down and started speaking and after five minutes I figured out that he was a humble, receptive soul; a self-aware human being. Our conversations ranged from LA’s Skid Row, to YouTube videos, to the oddities of growing up in the South. He intently displayed curiosity to things he was not aware of and wrote things down to pursue them later. Being that Chris is not from Los Angeles, he displayed love for the city that could only be

compared to someone’s first love. He says he loves the city because of its diversity and the ability to drive around to places quickly. He asked why I was doing this story and I explained that it was not about the photography, but about the experiences and the people making the final product. A young woman approached us and Chris introduced us. Her name was Paige and the model Chris arranged. She spoke English like a dreamy European girl on travel. I asked her about her accent and she said she got that a lot, but that she grew up in a very normal Northern California town. Chris and my conversation shifted from worldly overviews to finding a location to shoot at. We departed our hipster paradise and we all carpooled to the next location. I asked about the Anthony Kiedis book in his backseat that seemed to be nearing completion by the look of the bookmark. Chris said that he is interested in the history of people and how they got to be where they are. I told him that I had recently read that the US government had been supposedly using Red Hot Chili Pepper music to torture detainees. Chris didn’t seem pleased by this, but said that at least it was not Metallica. This was my moment to become a ghost and let Chris work with Paige, so I left them to their own devices. They spoke about looks and bounced ideas off each other. About as quickly as we had left coffee shop, we were under the Sixth Street Bridge amongst a few other shoots going on.

We finally nestled close to some train tracks by the LA river. Chris and Paige agreed on an outfit and we left her to get dressed. It was no surprise that getting dressed in LA in public drew gawkers. I told Chris that he was really personable and he mentioned that he likes to make the model comfortable so creativity can flow. Paige emerged from the car wearing a one piece with a jean jacket and chucks. She looked like fun on a Saturday afternoon with no worries. Once the shooting began, Chris set up an idea verbally and

Paige followed through, infusing her own aura to the base of the idea. They flowed like a beautiful waltz personally arranged by Chris. As quickly as that began, another outfit change ensued this time with Paige rocking a vintage tennis skirt that just fit perfectly with the contours of her body. In between breaks she skateboarded and I wouldn’t have doubted her skills, but she mentioned after that she had never skateboarded before.

After the Sixth Street Bridge, we drifted to a few more spots and, in between, Chris and I spoke about something from our meeting earlier. Chris originally went to school to be a poet, but life sometimes steers you in different directions. I told him I took him for somebody that liked E.E Cummings, but he lightly laughed and said that he was more predictable than that. He began speaking about Burroughs, Ginsberg, and Kerouac.

I asked him if he watched T.V and he replied that he did not, but that he had a fascination with Netflix. He likes documentaries and spends his limited free time watching them. The day was coming to a close and the sunlight was fleeing behind LA buildings. I offered Chris a late lunch in Echo Park, but he politely declined due to a prior engagement. We said our goodbyes, but vowed to meet up in LA if I was ever in town again.

Photographer: Chris Fitzgerald Instagram: Chris_fitzgerald_ Model: Paige B. Represented by Kismet Management Instagram: @holapagina Stylist: Paige B. Enjoy the finished product.

Brokechella: Budding Artists and New Aural Sensations

Though the self-designation as a poor man’s version of Coachella is implied within the name of this festival, that is not to say it should be discounted. This gathering is not about established acts and conclusive clout, but that is not to say there is tons of talent at display – a cornucopia of flavors in many forms of bands and art – that inspires a spirit of creation conveying a relevant artistic statement. Brokechella features an environment conducive to many arts.

There were rooms and areas with

paintings, street art, and etchings. Not one spot of this festival was without an expression of some sort. An artist spent the day near the Cartel stage painting a mural with political connotations.

One artist was given a room to deck his paintings out with. The theme was “walk-on art.” It was meant to subvert the idea that art should not be touched, and instead made everything interactive. Rather cleverly, these pieces were also very sexual, supporting the

Article: Andrew Mercado Photographer: Abraham Cuenca

idea of touching the art with the idea that stage, home to various comedy, indie, and art is alive and just as capable of arousal acoustic acts, and the Shifty Rhythms stage, as we are. Trucks and concession stands celebrating the scene of club/dance music. lining the path toward the Cartel stage Patrons of the festival varied in appearance, sold embroidery, accessories, and various representing the diversity of LA well. The types of clothing and art as well. All of this initial attentions and overall focus was on the is organized in an area small enough to Cartel stage, which housed many upcoming be considered intimate, yet representative alternative/indie bands in the LA area. of a huge amount of talent. One building Many of the young and promising housed the Brownies and Lemonade stage,bands on the Cartel stage are not afraid of which served as a platform for hip-hop innovation. This is immediately apparent talent. Another building housed the Lounge in one of the first bands to perform, StaG.

StaG is a young rock group with the ambient musical experimentation of a band akin to Local Natives. StaG is characteristically different in appearance, mixing hipster and rock trends into their own personal cocktail.

Many of the fans mirrored this style. Their cleanly distorted guitars, along with the reverb and keyboard synthesizer and sampling nuances provide a very rich and new sonic experience. Like many indie bands, they are influenced by 80s and 90s sounds, one of new wave and another of alt-rock from the 90s. The sound is highly collaborative, and each of the sounds are essential within the composition; one cannot exist without the other. The harmonizing between instruments and vocals was impressive. Though this band is new and little known – an early band and consequently not playing during prime time – they are representative of the entire spirit of Brokechella. “Me and Will are founders, and our fans became our fellow band members.

We have known each other since we were five,” says Matt McGuire, keyboardist backup vocalist and sound manipulator. The band is a five-piece, with the other four’s roles being Will Walden as guitarist, bassist, and vocalist, Stephen Becker on drums, and Mac Welch on guitar. The fan base is young, loyal, and enthusiastic – elatedly letting the music shape their movements – and the early crowd was getting into it as well. Listening to the lyrics of such songs as “I Think I’ll Shout” proved that they are great songwriters as well. While watching this, it was apparent that they are a great example of the types of exciting newer bands that may benefit from a grass roots festival such as this. And there were many with such talent and potential.

Another band that graced the same stage was the Dark Furs, which officially consists of vocalist Suzanne May and guitarist Chad

Philipps. They are essentially a creative duo, with guest musicians that come in for recordings and live shows. They feed off of each other in the creative process: “We have great chemistry writing songs together,” says Philipps. “She sings and I write guitar parts.” May’s voice sounds reminiscent to something like the singer from Florence and the Machine, which is to say, she definitely has the range and delicacy to pull off almost any kind of vocal performance. It is undeniably fitting that her voice is the forefront, but the guitars and keyboards provided a suitable backdrop of 80s synthesizer sound and understated punk rhythm – akin to Joy Division – to compliment it well. This was highlighted in songs like “1984.”

The Lounge area’s stage was filled with acts of different genres, such as comedy

and folk. Liza Oppenheimer represents a little bit of both. Her affective notes and minimalistic style remind one of Regina Spektor or Fiona Apple, but she seems to have a wry tinge of humor pervading into every one of these familiar moments.

Her influences are vast, proving she is a student of her craft. “I like Debby Harris, John Lyndon, and Joy Division,” Liza relates. She has a distinctive, crooning voice, and her lyrics are as disarming for her sardonic aspects as well as her antithetical moments of vulnerability. “My songs are based on true experiences, and I tend to be blunt and honest about them.” “Big,” a song about trying to make it in the music business, and consequently trying to survive, is a huge contrast from the irreverent “Boil Your Bunny.” As one can see, the multiple flavors of LA are in full display.

The Brownies and Lemonade stage housed an eclectic array of hip-hop talent.

One thing that was immediately evident

to any observers and fans alike was the repetitive blasts of bass, and never-ending clamor, had one available in the Shifty sheer energy of the room housing the stage. The artists and the fans alike were Rhythms stage. This stage featured a small pumped. Oh Blimey, a local rap artist, was lounge area adjacent to a miniature skate park, so there were multiple sources of one of these. Her visceral in-your-face attraction. The dancing, at one point, got delivery and the hard-hitting sounds of the DJ got the room moving, particularly pretty heated.

Back at the Cartel stage, which seemed during a song called “Bass Face.” There to hold the most well-balanced mix of was a point where she walked into the talent, Zibbz, hailing from Switzerland, middle of the room and conducted a was a source of gab. Their instrumental cipher, spitting lyrics in a free-styling fashion. Marvel the Gr8, another promising innovation was front and center. Various rapper, took the stage later, and he also band members had odd and apparently seemed to bring his best. His rhymes and custom instruments, one consisting beats maneuvered between each other of a box with a tube coming out of it, manipulating sounds coming out of an and created a movable groove. His “Top Gunner” brought the building to a shake. amplifier, and one made out of a child’s This is a testament to the diversity of the guitar toy. The guitar toy retained the festival as a whole. Different moods exist original sounds of the toy, but amplified within every stage, and this particular one and modified them in a way to where seems to exude artists with a particular it was usable as a legitimate musical instrument. They used these instruments flow of prideful energy. to play various songs, and riffed on their It is of note that anyone looking for the club scene, with mixes of electronica, own versions of current hits, one of them

“Radioactive” from Imagine Dragons. Not only were they innovative, the lead singer, Coco, had some pipes. She belted out yells and soft sounds alike while the other main recurring member, Stee (drums, composer, circuitbend instruments) led the rest of the hired band in an odd reverie of rock, pop, electronic, and synthpop. It was oddly exciting, and the crowd, including me, could not wait to find out what sort of tricks they were going to pull out of their hat next. While their general mix of songs has somewhat of a mainstream blues-rock type sound, they are a talented group. What is even more impressive is their seamless transition between instruments (Coco plays a bit as well).

Francisco the Man, either incidentally or intentionally named in the same vein as Portugal, the Man, is another indie band with the musical talent to be worthy of discussion.

They were dressed modestly and did not draw too much attention to themselves, focusing on the quality of their music more than anything. Their sound is reminiscent

of bands like Band of Horses, of which I am a huge fan. Their lyrics were heartfelt and inspired, and the jangling electric guitars went well with the nasally wail of the lead singer. Their guitar and voice reverberations felt cohesive and conducive to an elated and warm rock feel, “Taking Punches,” was a prime example of this. It is music like this that helps one relax and let out a fit of angst all at once. But there were also songs like “In the Corners” that felt a lot more like 90s alternative, propagating that sense of grunge fuzz and depressed yet raging energy. Some of their new material was showcased as well, and it sounds equally good. I hope to hear more from this band

in the future.

Rounding out the bands of note at Brokechella was a band entitled LA Font. Their style was quintessential LA, as the name would no doubt denote. Leather jackets, colorful sunglasses, faded black jeans, coupled with a spirit of conflicting nonchalance and corrosive revolt made the band as representative as a model of the ideal and of the myth of LA they were creating onstage.

Some songs had punk rhythms and vocal styles and others had slower rock interludes building up to the chorus. “Driving Man” had a heavy bass line and light high-pitched strain vocals, taking influences from The Cure, yet somehow sounding

like rebellious biker rock and an electric version of the Violent Femmes all at once.

These guys also seemed to get the crowd going, albeit in a more conventional rock group type of way, playing guitar close to edge of the stage, walking around the stage and engaging the crowd in various ways. They are a bit more established than most bands at the festival, and therefore had the onstage chemistry that made them all the more fun to watch.

As a whole, with the delicious food trucks consisting of Greek food, Mexican food and others, along with a myriad of goodies on display, the art coating, the already colored landscape of expression on display, and the insane amount of musical and

comedic acts on display, this festival is a sheer blast.

I expect it to grow positively over the years. The only complaint that seemed to be mutual with me and fellow festival goers seemed to be that there was a huge dearth of seats.

I hope something as basic as this is resolved next year.

All they really need to do is rent a few benches or add extra couches in the lounge area. As a launch-pad for budding artists, music associated or otherwise, and a field of fertile creative soil and yields to be harvested by fans and observers, this festival is one to keep an eye on and behold.

Oak Street Blues: The New EP and Touring Article: Andrew Mercado

It is refreshing, in this climate of a ubiquitously fluctuating musical industry, to hear something that evokes the joy of making music and the nostalgia that music can sometimes bring from indiscriminate crevices many seem to neglect. Oak Street Blues, a rising California band, reflects this musicallyincited warm remembrance in their sound, but bring it to a new level in their EP, Calico. The bands’ influences range from a gamut of rock – and even a selection of rap – history. Chris’s vocals are reminiscent of Tom Petty and the tone is generally celebratory in nature, mostly reflecting the 90s alternative rock era and country rock music. But, although there is a uniting theme of revelatory pleasure and elation founded on the rocking spirit, the songs also represent what is a diverse multiplicity of human experience. This is probably the most complete EP I have heard in recent memory.

Slide guitars loom in the background, and banjos flit playfully through voided spaces. Chris employs his rock and blues guitar fills with a sense of richness and sings along with Stephanie while she intermittently skips through lively piano riffs, and Alejandra’s bangs out a groove while Jenny maintains it on the bass. Influences aside, this band feeds off of each other. There are spaces for each song filled with specific identities, yet they work well in tandem. Needless to say, I had much to talk about with Chris, and the ensuing interview proved as enjoyable as the EP itself.

Photo curtesy of Oak Street Blues

Interview: Andrew: So, I listened to your EP. It’s good stuff, man. I heard a lot of Tom Petty influence in the vocals.

Chris: Thanks, man. Yeah, that’s in there, and I try to get a little Flying Burrito Brothers in there too.

Chris: Well, I write the songs and the band usually contributes. Usually, it starts with one of my ideas. I might be walking down the street and see a pretty girl or something, you know. I just start thinking, “Look at that girl; she’s so fine.” I write the song. I work out the chorus first, and then I bring it to the band they contribute. It’s fun.

Andrew: Definitely. So, build off of that a little Andrew: Yeah, I noticed songs like that. bit. What are your influences?

What I liked about the EP is that it was very diverse. Like you had the song about the Chris: Yeah, well obviously our base is that hot girl, and then you had, “Do You Want to Tom Petty type sound. Also, Jenny and I are Dance Tonight?” which I thought was great. into the 90s stuff. You know, like Weezer and You know, it was a cool party song. Then you The Smashing Pumpkins and stuff like that. had really intimate stuff with “Don’t Be Shy.” We also have country influences.

Chris: Well, most of that was the country Andrew: Yeah, I definitely hear some of rock type of sound that we like, but there are that patented Pumpkins lull within some also parts that sound more like that biker, of your songs. Also, I noticed when I was you know, electronic type of sound, and doing research that you are influenced by that was kind of how our last album was.

Gangsta Rap. I was curious about that. Can But some songs, like “Gangsta Party,” are you talk about that a little bit? country rock all the way. Some of the songs on there weren’t supposed to be country Chris: Yeah, you know, I grew up listening to rock, but they kind of turned out that way. gangsta rap. Eazy-E is my favorite and I also listen to old Dr. Dre. I even liked Lil Wayne Andrew: Yeah, I know what you mean. The before he got big. You know, now he’s like slide guitar in the background made it a way over-exposed. little more like that, but I didn’t see it entirely like it was country. I thought, you know, it’s Andrew: Oh, wow. Yeah, I didn’t know his a good mix. Like you could see the rock earlier stuff was like that. I might have to influences. You could see the bluegrass and check it out. I did notice the first track in Calico country influences as well. It came together was called “Gangsta Party.” I thought the really well. So what about the producer and irony there was pretty funny. Like the music engineer you worked with? They worked really contrasts with some of the lyrics. with Adele and Aerosmith?

Chris: Yeah, I guess you could say it was ironic (laughs). We just had fun with it. We used our rock/country influence and the rap stuff.

Andrew: Awesome. I bet he gives his boss Andrew: Yeah, I thought it closed the EP out really well. crap for that, huh? (laughs) Chris: Yeah. I had an idea that the song would be, like, real beachy. I just thought it fit Andrew: Ok, so let’s talk about the band. I well at the end. mean, how do you guys get along? How’s Andrew: Do you close out your shows with it? the dynamic?

Chris: (laughs)

Chris: Well, Alejandra, I met her on Craigslist.

She’s cool. I stuck with her for the last four years. She’s a little crazy. Sometimes we gotta tell her, “All right, you gotta tone it down a little bit.” But she has good chops.

Jenny, the bass player – she was a friend of a friend. Stephanie was like the same thing.

They actually went to elementary school together.

Chris: No, we usually close with “Pumpkin Time.” But, you know, all the songs work.

They are all pretty high quality.

Andrew: Cool, so there is an early bond.

Chris: Oh, you got that? Yeah, my producer was like “What’s that?” (laughs)

Andrew: They are. They all stand alone pretty well on their own. My favorite song is actually “Rock Show.” There’s so many things going on with it. From the banjo, the guitar fills, the piano and the Bowie reference.

Chris: Yeah.

Andrew: (laughs) Yeah, it was cool. Well, it Andrew: So how is it on the road, being the was nice talking to you dude. Anything you want to add? only guy in the group?

Chris: You know, it’s not bad. Everyone gets Chris: Not really. It was nice talking to you along pretty well. And we got Alejandra. It too, dude. gets interesting.

Check out Oak Street Blues Andrew: (laughs) Yeah, you need that.

Chris: In most bands they will be all, “I love you”, then, “I hate you”, but this just feels right.

Andrew: Awesome. Good chemistry, then.

Any new developments going on?

Chris: Yeah, well, I am trying to get stuff together so we can start making new music.

We have been playing around California lately. Pretty soon we will be playing the Slide Bar in Fullerton. Just touring, mostly.

Andrew: What is your favorite song on Calico? What did you enjoy doing the most?

Chris: Yeah. Yeah, Warren really knows his stuff. He’s working on this stuff twelve hours a day. You know, he’s an expert at what he does. We come in with an initial structure, and he comes in and adds something Andrew: So, I was curious what your fresh. It’s part of the reason the EP sounds songwriting process entails. Where do you so good. And Phil actually works for Warren. start off? Is it a collaborative thing or is it He’s one of his guys. He’s the one that won Chris: Well, I’d have to say “Why Does you? a Grammy for his work with Adele.

Summer Have to End?”

Joe, the Tragic Hero

Review: Andrew Mercado

Joe is a story about abuse it, and some courage in a world attempt to ameliorate of desperation and it. Joe (Nicholas Cage) vice. This movie sees is in charge of a ragtag Nicholas Cage tackle a group of blue collar role of quality he has not workers that includes seen similar likeness himself. They “kill” trees. of for some time.

Their job is to strap on Many people know a backpack and chop him as a lackluster into the trees while actor, over-the-top injecting them with and silly. Although the the poison dispensing many movies and from the containers internet videos of him they are carrying. This portrayed at his worst ensures the trees will may label him as not take root again such, he has proven and primes the land Graphic: Gian Bautista himself in the past in such for another crew to come in and films as Adaptation and Raising chop them down, presumably Arizona, among others. I personally have so a building may be put in its place. Up to always seen his skill and potentiality to be this point, one can see there are aspects remembered as an actor of eminence. And of Joe that he does not care to disclose. this character, full of pain, regret, and the His intrigue is in his face, the way he looks fault of passion, is among the best he has mournfully at things, the way he smokes ever had the chance to play. a cigarette, the way he ambles heavily. He It’s the south; roads are paved and treats his crew well, pays them a fair wage, unpaved, there are equal number of trees and delegates the common occurrences and prairies, and a river and train tracks run of his life while they do the same. Joe, from through the heart of it. It’s rural, open to the the very onset, before the reveals, can be possibility of freedom, whether that entails seen as an afflicted character. freedom from the law or freedom for one’s The movie is anchored around Joe, but own implementation of lifestyles that need what drives his story along further is the the lenience such space can bring. The heartbreaking plot of Gary (Tye Sheridan). policemen feel this sense as well, and some Gary’s abusive father, Wade (Gary Poulter),

is destroying the family, often beating Gary and terrorizing his wife and daughter. He is a raving drunk, constantly clamoring for opportunities to score more booze. There is a danger in his dictatorship, and Gary recognizes this, vying to get a job with Joe. It is apparent that Joe is almost immediately taken by Gary’s demeanor. He witnesses them at work in the woods and decides to ask Joe for a job. This pivotal event sets into play a myriad of quandaries for Joe and Gary.

In the course of the plot, the voids shared

by Joe and Gary are mutually fulfilled. Joe continues to live his life with the absence of any kind of intrinsic meaning. He is starkly opinionated and honest to himself, but this is a boon and a bane. His friends regard him as a good man, principled and kind-hearted. It is his over-boiling passion in these regards that sometimes sets him ablaze with anger. His mysterious history is shown through his actions and the people that act upon him. It is revealed that he has a criminal record, but through the unfolding of events related to Gary’s and his fate, the nature of his crimes is also revealed.

At any sign of indiscretion toward him, he finds it difficult to control his anger, and he participates in fights and gets arrested for his blunders. Other mistakes are due to the fact that he is abjectly controlled by his emotions. This is precisely why Gary needs him. Wade is becoming a much more ominous threat. Also, Joe’s enemies begin to become more of a threat to him. The mix of colorful profiles conflicting and the kind of justice needed to resolve the situation leaves a vacated role that Joe stumbles into.

The story, in essence, can be appropriated or perceived as a superhero story, with Joe alternately playing super and anti-hero.

His complex ambivalence is admirable.

He represents a rare nuance of human emotion and his penchant to do good at any cost is another aspect of what makes him interesting. Although Joe at one point denies any correlation between himself and Gary, he does acknowledge a connection with him. Joe’s denial may be a coping mechanism, because Gary is very much like him. Gary has a stark belief in doing what is right, just like Joe, but does not possess the power to make things

right. His predilection for good is more innocent and not as laden with regret and mistakes. Joe knows he is nearing a place in his life where there is no turning back. He is aging and any chance of progressing is stilted by his past. Gary represents a sort of redemption for him. Here the interplay between them is at its best.

Joe becomes a sort of mentor in good and bad situations. Yes, this movie also has a brand of comedy under its naturalistic grime. One notable instance occurs at the point where he teaches him how to make the “cool” face. Through all of the elements, Joe teaches Gary how to survive in the unforgiving and brutal southern expanse, where nothing is immune to opportunistic scoundrels. In this sense, Joe is “killing” the trees: his past that no longer carries the weight of promise and bringing new developments unrelated to him to the forefront. The story escalates to a great climax, and the resolution is more than befitting. The complaints are minimal.

While what gives Joe his mystique is the untold nature of him, I do believe they could have elaborated just a bit more.

Otherwise, the disputes shown could have been anything. What I mean is that there is a possibility the disputes he had were localized to the point of not warranting such mystique. I know this is not the case, but a little something extra on back story would have made it more convincing. Also, there was a love interest that stayed with Joe throughout the story. She represented something that was no longer available to him, but extra characterization would have helped flesh this out a bit more. Other than that, this story is pretty solid. I highly recommend a watch.

Verdict:

8.5/10

Tune in, Turn off, Drop out - A Tycho Experience

Article: Caitie Hanahan Photographer: Matt Morck

I had first heard of Tycho about a year ago. That first time I heard his beautiful, ambient sounds and felt his melodious vibrations, I was smitten and have not heard music with the same ear since. I saw Scott Hansen, professionally known as Tycho, for the first time in Chicago just a couple months after hearing his album entitled “Dive”.

Needless to say, the show was divine. I have been to upwards of 100 shows in my life and had never experienced the frequencies that he produced that evening. Although Scott Hansen, as the originator and producer of Tycho, is behind every positive vibration you experience when you tune in to an album, given the complexity of sounds and instruments used to make these albums, when performing live, he has a backing band of three guys, Zac Brown on bass guitar and/or guitar, Rory O’Connor on drums, and Joe Davancens on bass guitar, keyboard and synthesizer.

This time, I drove to the city knowing exactly what to expect. I wore a flowy dress, knowing damn well I wasn’t going to be sitting and, even more, would be dancing and swaying for a few hours straight. I walked into the Concord Music Hall for the first time ever and was immediately ecstatic about the layout. The hall set the stage up at the back, dead center, had two balcony rooms lining the entire length of the hall on both sides of the stage, and had a raised stage at the back of the hall behind the soundboard and bar in case being in the middle of 900 people on the floor wasn’t your forte.

The venue, packed with easily 1,500 people, was buzzing with conversation and connections. I made my way from the back lounge area, to both balconies, and back down to the merch table where I was eyeing the vinyls they had for sale. Ever since Sodapop’s article on SlyVinyl, I’ve been tossing around the idea to start a vinyl collection and hadn’t quite felt that opportune moment to actually make my first purchase.

When the opening band, Gems, was coming to a close, I positioned myself on the floor, left side of the stage so that I’d have room to groove, knowing as soon as I heard that first riff, I wouldn’t stop moving until the end. They opened up with Scott’s first song

on the Dive album, “A Walk”, which, of course, sounded exactly like the album version. One thing you can always expect at his shows is that album quality performance. He never skips a beat and literally plays to a T the albums you’ve had on repeat, calming you on your worst days, bringing that euphoric feeling to life. I was swaying and flowing with more than a thousand people, yet my eyes were locked on him and it felt like he was playing an intimate show, plucking the most emotionally and physically charged strings in my brain.

As I was beginning to feel an overload of mental satisfaction, I remembered I was surrounded and looked around at fellow vibers. With no surprise at all, every single face in the crowd was plastered with a smile, half of which were grooving with their eyes closed, letting the waves of positive vibrations soak into their pores. I closed my eyes and let the music take me away, only opening them to applaud at the end of the performance, which was really more of a mental tune up than a concert. I stood for a moment, bringing myself back down to the activity around me, and then walked straight to the merch table to buy the vinyls.

The day after the show, I woke up feeling completely aligned. I had a six hour drive home that was the most peaceful, yet mindful drive from Chicago I’d ever taken. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and heard the birds chirping outside my window, which had a slight breeze blowing my shades in a fluid, dancing motion, flickering sunlight throughout the room; the breeze, just cool enough to leave a trickle of goosebumps down my spine. And with this, I once again recognized my new found alignment with the present moment and smiled knowing Scott Hansen was still lingering in my veins like an intravenous drug.

Tycho is still touring, so if you have the chance, do your mind a favor and experience a show. This is one drug your psyche will thank you for getting addicted to.

Why Brew Beer?

Article: Dakotah

There are hundreds of guides on the Internet about the “how” of brewing beer.

You can buy a Mr. Beer kit for an easy time or just start growing some hops, pick up a bag of grains, and invest in a kettle and plastic bucket. Trust me when I say it’s not difficult to brew your first batch, though don’t expect it to taste like Dragon’s Milk. If you don’t want to jump right in, there are probably brewers in your area willing to invite you to their brew-day. You can even look for workshops or classes that focus on the basics of homebrewing (my non-profit organization, Village Homesteading Mundelein, just had a highly successful free class and tasting last week).

However, very few people are talking about the “why” behind the homebrew movement. You’re not saving any time. All costs considered and adjusting for the fact that it’ll take a few batches before you get something you’re truly proud of, you’re probably not saving much money, either, especially if you’re making the transition from Keystone Light to a double chocolate honey porter with three varieties of hops. As for taste, thanks to the current trend towards local and microbreweries, my neighborhood liquor store has over 1,000 different beers in stock, so if you can’t find something you like, you’re doing it wrong.

Homebrewing is an artform and a means of expression. It is alchemy. Just because someone else painted something awesome once, or that there are artistsfor-hire out there, doesn’t mean the average dude can’t find a release by slapping acrylics on canvas. Maybe the first few batches wind up closer to turning lead into worse tasting lead, the finger painting of the alchemy world. Maybe the best feedback you can get for a while is that it tastes “interesting.” Maybe you put too much sugar in a batch, causing the bottles to explode and sending shrapnel into your eyes, blinding you for life. Just remember that Van Gogh kept painting even after cutting off his own ear and donating it to a prostitute.

Even in the face of failure, homebrewing offers a path towards growth. As long as you’re keeping copious notes, paying attention to your failures, and finding the balance between following a recipe and wild experimentation, the skill will improve, as with anything in life. You get what you put in, both in the form of ingredients and effort.

When all else in life seems out of control or beyond your reach, you can still put together the bounties of nature to create an alcoholic beverage, just as God intended.

What separates brewing beer from other art forms is that a different range of people will appreciate it and for different reasons. Trying to judge a painting, a sculpture, or a Banksy installation without an art degree is kind of like trying to define the color “orangish-blue” to a child born blind. Anyone with taste buds and a love of fine beers, however, can offer all sorts of critiques on the flavor, aftertaste, amount of carbonation, and quality of buzz in your latest homebrew. People will enjoy the utilitarian points of the craft, not just because it looks pretty on a wall or inspires some feelings of discontentment and higher moral standards, but because it quenches their thirst, satisfies their palate, and gets them drunk. Whether or not it’s the best beer they’ve ever had, it’s certainly unique. Homebrew is about the experience, free of conformity and replication.

Providing friends, family, peers, and strangers with homebrew is simply an exercise in bonding. Most people like beer, especially good beer. Giving them something new, something special, something they want to post to their Facebook feed creates a connection. If people get word that some guy is making his own beer and it’s actually pretty damn good, suddenly they want to try it. There’s a level of respect involved, because not many people brew beer, and many novices get turned off quick by a couple disappointing batches. Sure, they can bake a cake like every Betty-Sue on the block and maybe they do like to mix their martinis extra strong. But if you have a steady supply of original artisan beer on tap, nobody’s going to skip your party even if there is a cover charge.

What’s more, once you start talking about how you brew beer, others will want to imitate. They’ll come to your brew-day, witness the magic firsthand, and decide they have to get involved. Maybe they’ll apprentice under you for a while, or just ask to borrow your equipment, but soon enough, there’s another new, unique beer that you get to sample, experiencing the expression of a fellow homebrewer and a stronger community.

Spotlight Photographer:

Model: Marie-Elen

Obiwolf

Obiwolf is a German freelance photographer and design student.

Stalk him at @obiwolf and see more of his work at obiwolf.com