SAM CANTOR

By MOLLY WALLACE

Former Bub and cofounder of 3 Capen St.’s monthly folk concerts, senior Sam Cantor sat down with us and shared his views on the Tufts music scene, his decision to leave the Bubs, and his new project, Saltmill Showdown.

IIt’s funny, this was supposed to be a solo artist

interview but you actually opened for Magic Man last night with a band.

SC: I had actually been trying to set up a blues band, just to play at crafts house or something… it was funny because I hadn’t played “loud music” in three years.

Loud music?

SC: I hadn’t played like a distorted power chord in three years, basically. So playing a White Stripes song was… different. I was a lil hesitant at first and Jack [LeMay, drummer] was like… “what’s wrong with you?” [laughs].

I want to hear about [3 Capen St.’s monthly houseconcerts], and some words on Skull Alley. Why did you think “I have to do this?”

SC: It actually kickstarted out of something kind of out of our control… Ben [Ross, housemate] basically met this woman doing a documentary on this guy John Eliot, a folk musician, and he was traveling in the area so this woman and he were talking about putting on a house concert, which is something he does. So he came with this other dude, Jack Wilson—they were touring together—and I had just started writing music again, so we combined and that was like the first one. But shortly afterwards Hayes [Peebles, class of 2014] and I put on another concert. Because it had quickly become very clear—this had been like a random Wednesday thing in September, and it became very

clear that it was something that had been missing from our school… just didn’t exist, that kind of space. So we recreated it with just Tufts musicians. And then this year I just started right away, because it was really great last year and I’ve tried to get more people to come and play. It was like… here was this thing that we now had sort of a bit of social capital—like “Oh, 3 Capen house concert?” And we get 50 people that come just like that. So I thought, okay lets utilize this because there are people here that want to play their music. So, yeah. There’s going to be more of that because playing Hotung is just… ugh.

It’s very sterile.

SC: It’s like a New York night club… in the daytime. There’s not a lot of performative space here that isn’t topdown, sort of official. There’s not a lot of official space that’s up for grabs. Sogo was great, but new… I mean how long has that been around? How old is Midnight? And it’s super complicated and administrative.

There’s a lot of bureaucracy involved.

SC: Too much bureaucracy, and there’s not a lot of, not enough… people aren’t just passing this stuff down. Like when I got here, my experience with kids on campus… those off campus spaces weren’t passed on to me as viable. And its weird, because I knew people in houses, upperclassmen who had great houses and who were musicians. But they weren’t putting on house-concert type things, and for me that’s like the best thing! To just chill and listen to someone play music, that’s ideal. And you don’t have wait around for someone to tell you “this is the concert.” There are lots of talented kids on campus who want to play music all the time but maybe a lack of it being passed on… a lack of tradition. A horizontal culture, a bottom-up culture.

This is one of the things that keeps Tufts from having the artistic reputation of, say, Wesleyan.

SC: And I think one of the things I’m really happy about, though, is that I’m now influencing it. I started something with the house concerts and so are people like Pete [Rosen, class of 2014], or Applejam, I hope they can continue to play like that.

So, create more of a tradition.

SC: That’s the thing, there are people… and what I’m trying to say, I’m not saying “Tufts students aren’t cultured, harrumph—” I think there are students here who are awesome, and really cool… but its hard to spontaneously start things from scratch every time you get into a new place. Like when you’re a freshman you’re looking up and seeing “okay what can I do here,” and if there’s no unofficial music outlet then you’re unlikely to make one as a freshman, unless you’re super bold. So I think that’s the problem, there isn’t a tradition here, that culture isn’t passed down whereas it is in other places. Like, there’s a spot in Columbia that’s this basement where people have come into play since like the 60s… Jeff Buckley played there, and students still play there [Postcrypt Coffeehouse]. Things get passed on.

How’d you feel about doing the recent midnight show in SOGO?

SC: I was really excited to like… play music in college and then I started to sing a capella and that just didn’t happen; I ended up taking like a two year hiatus from writing music. Because I was doing it in high school—my favorite thing was being in a band in high school with musicians who were all my best friends. And so last year, or last summer I started writing music again.

I remember summer after sophomore year you were writing.

SC: Exactly. That was the spring after sophomore year, when Bon Iver came out with his second album and then Fleet Foxes came out with their second album, and that was a big deal for me. And then I met Hayes Peebles last fall and that was really cool.

Speaking of which, I want to know about quitting the Bubs, and how that shaped your musical experience at Tufts.

SC: Oh god, you’re going to publish this. Okay, I quit the Beelzebubs partly because… writing music is the most rewarding emotional outlet. And not just emotional; my band, like playing for people, is a huge rush. It was a pride thing, a part of my identity in a lot of ways. Like since tenth grade, actually seventh, it was “yeah, I’m in a band!” It’s… I write music, with my friends, and we put a lot of effort into it and make something that people enjoy—that was the

best. I’m someone who takes that a little bit too seriously, maybe, but you have fun with it! It’s the most fun thing, when you’re grooving with other people… there’s nothing better. And I always sang choir in high school, too. So like I love singing—harmony, for me, that’s the essence. Harmony and rhythm are the two things I love the most. And then… I went to college, So I had this image of a capella. Like I said, I sang throughout high school and did choir, and all the people who had done that went to college and also did a capella and I thought “I wanna do a capella” too…. And I had sort of heard of the Bubs and knew it was a big time commitment so I was like, I’ll just try out and see what happens. And I ended up getting a call back, and I was like, “eh I’ll just try out next semester if I don’t get it.” And then I got it, and fall of freshman year I had to leave after Thanksgiving.

For “The Sing Off.”

SC: Yeah, I had to fly back to take finals… I mean it was wild. I had sort of a funny identity crisis because there were all these Sam’s in my freshman year and dorm and I was termed “Bub Sam.“ And to me the Bubs are great, and being in that group taught be so much. But my relationship to music wasn’t encompassed by the Bub’s music approach. The bubs are master entertainers—they’re fantastic entertainers and I loved doing that… I actually garnered a real love for entertaining by being through that process. But it was all-encompassing so I needed, for my personal wellbeing, I needed something that allowed me to be a little bit more creative. A little more of an outlet that was suited to what I thought to be more personally important, as far as music goes. Personally valuable. I have a really good relationship with those guys and to the group as a whole, and quitting the group was one of the hardest decisions I had to make. It was sort of a decision I was making from the very first moment I entered the group… like is this what I want to be doing? It wasn’t as if I was about to quit the whole time, but you know, when you commit yourself to something like that… And I needed to decide when was the right time, and I’ve been able to write music again and do this and garner a little bit of momentum and I’ve been really enjoying it. Between doing the house concerts and playing open mic’s in the area and then opening for magic man was so fucking cool! It was so fucking fun, because you get a rush when you’re playing by yourself it’s a really powerful thing since you’re doing literally everything… but it’s not the same as being in a group and playing together.

I do hope you still do all the individual folk stuff.

SC: Oh definitely, that’s like—that’s still it, for me. Our band is called Saltmill Showdown, by the way. Sounds like some sort of industrial revolution shit… for me, I thought a saltmill was a mill where you make salt. Turns out, I realized afterward, a saltmill is just like a peppermill… you just grind salt. Very domestic.

Yes, very important for your larger grain salts— kosher, and sea salt, etc.

SC: It captures both the largescale forces that govern humanity, and yet, in reality, it’s on a very personal level, an object… I’m just bullshitting now.

And folk, for me, the 3 Capen shows are special. I don’t want to sound like I don’t… I don’t want to look like I left the bubs cause…. I don’t want it to come off in a negative way… it was a personal decision, it has nothing to do with anything about them.

It just sounds like you didn’t want it to define your entire college experience.

SC: I just wanted to have a little more agency in my music. And I really want to make it clear that I’m not saying Tufts isn’t cool, its just that the culture isn’t ingrained.. the traditions aren’t being passed on. I mean some of it… there are plenty of people here who don’t go to house concerts and never will, that’s not their scene. But there are plenty people that would, that aren’t—because they just don’t know, we don’t have that outlet. But that’s the beauty of folk music, its portable, you don’t need that set-up. It’s a bottom-up music. Its music that you can create a culture with more easily. Its special to watch… what’s really cool about [Skull Alley] is that it made itself happen, in a lot of ways. Once it happened, there was very little work involved. All we had to do was provide the music, and then…it was all there. <

Molly wasn’t going to write a bio, but as you can see, there is a giant white space here that would have otherwise looked fucking terrible. As layout editor, she could not let this be, so she decided to compromise her interviewing ethics and write some bullshit. Submit to the Tufts Canon.

MOLLY WALLACE