Interview with Ryan Patterson of Coliseum

Coliseum has been breaking it open the last few weeks, tearing through blogs and sites and bandcamps and whatall with news, reviews and talk of their latest LP Sister Faith. The album was released on Temporary Residence at the end of April, and has gotten knocked up for an aeolian glide that has brought accolades from Pitchfork  and Stereogum, as well as this absorbing analysis by popmatters.

This isn't really a surprise. Begun in 2003 by guitarist/vocalist Ryan Patterson, Coliseum has been impressing people with release after release of gripping post-punk/punk rock/loud music/whathaveyou, both in and out of Louisville. Coliseum put out a split seven inch with Superchunk, goddamnit. They were signed to Relapse Records. Their albums are produced by fucking J. Robbins of Jawbox. Echelons have been reached for this band. We always figured they'd return, and they did it boulderish.

Sister Faith is a distorted kit that checks the simple truths of life: death, sorrow, pain. But its not all raw screams. Patterson has graduated passed the level of needing to impress with tilted nongagged anger. It's one of those moments in a discography that seems to capture the energy and grueling effort a band has been cranking through for 10 years and lord over that experience with a personal mantra that glues the treatment together perfectly. Robbins understands this sort of music. Bands like Jets to Brazil have benefited from his input, as now does Coliseum.

Oddly, I knew of Ryan more through his other bands. Black God fucked my mind up at 2am at Cropped Out a couple of years ago. And Whips/Chains destroyed me at a house show in 2012. Plus, we managed to work a few months together at one of our favorite places in Louisville: Wild and Woolly Video.

The Sister Faith record release party for Louisville is tonight, Friday May 10 at Zanzabar. Opening will be Tropical Trash and Anwar Sadat. I'm gonna mouth off and go ahead and say it'll be one of the loudest and best band battles of  the year. I appreciate Ryan taking some time to fire back some answers to some questions.

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American Gloam: It's been interesting getting to know you and Evan [Patterson] separately since I moved back to Louisville a few years ago. I was just curious if you two have ever collaborated. I know there was the split seven inch between Coliseum and Young Widows, but I meant in the same project (this question might prove some ignorance on my part right off the bat, but I'm willing to throw that out there)...

RYAN: Well, Evan and I did bands together since we were kids, but most notably Evan formed the National Acrobat which I joined after about a year. The Acrobat was one of our first bands to receive a fair share of acclaim and tour a bit. After that band broke up, I started Black Widows with Rob Pennington, Evan was upstairs at our house while we were practicing and since we didn't have a bass player he came downstairs...and joined the the band. Black Widows eventually became Black Cross and we did a couple albums and a lot of touring. Evan also started Breather Resist during that time and I started Coliseum shortly after that. We haven't played music together since Black Cross ended but we often talk about it. I'm sure it will happen again eventually.

AG: What separates Sister Faith from House with a Curse? That popmatters.com article describes the changes since the first album, but from a songwriter’s point of view, what do you feel the biggest differences were between what you have to say now and what you had to say 3 years ago? Or, yeah...lyrically what has changed over the course of the albums?

RYAN: The approach to both records is essentially the same but I guess we always get better as songwriters and players... I think we knew more of who we are as a band during the writing of Sister Faith. House With A Curse was pretty adventurous for us but it maybe lacked on fun a bit, it was really dark and dour, while still being a damn solid record in my opinion. My point of view changes daily, or at least expands with age and exposure, so the lyrics change accordingly. Sister Faith was great affected by death, loss, confusion, and ultimately love and hope.

AG: That being said, what about the changes in musicians between the last album and now.

RYAN: Kayhan Vaziri joined the band on bass and we clicked into gear in the best way possible. He and Carter, our drummer, are lifelong friends and have played in countless bands together so their chemistry is incredible. We were all operating at the same level and able to make these songs the best they could be.

AG: I’m so impressed (and jealous) that you have recorded with J. Robbins of Jawbox, a band I listened to in the 90s. What would you say he has brought to the sound of Coliseum? To me, it makes perfect sense, considering the sound of Sister Faith. Bands like Jawbox and Shudder To Think and even up through to stuff like Jets to Brazil, Robbins brought a mixture of post-punk aggression mixed with extremely personal lyrics, which I feel is existent on Sister Faith.

RYAN: J. helps us perform at our best and make the songs as good as they can be, makes them sound great, documents them in the best way possible. He feels like a fourth member of the band, he's a great collaborator, a great friend. He makes you better by being supportive and excited, also by helping to create and capture very wonderful tones and sounds of the instruments, amps, and vocals. J.'s bands were big influences to me, along with a lot of the bands he recorded like Kerosene 454 and Monorchid, and the bands that were his peers like Girls Against Boys, Fugazi, Shudder To Think, etc. He's the perfect match for what we're doing because we're coming from the same perspective and in some ways he's part of what shaped that perspective in us.

AG: How long is this tour and how do you plan on keeping your sanity during it?

RYAN: This tour is never ending! Well, this specific run is about five weeks across the Eastern part of North America, then we'll head back to Europe & the UK for a couple weeks to do some festivals over there, then come back and do some midwest and East Coast stuff before finally going out West again, then probably going back to Europe! I just try to stay as chill as possible, get as much sleep as I can, stay healthy. It can be difficult but luckily I have great bandmates and we all get along really well.

AG: Are you or will you be working anymore with Black God?

RYAN: Yeah, Black God and my other side project Whips/Chains are still active, but both bands are mostly on hiatus for the rest of the year. Black God just finished our third 7" EP and it will come out sometime later this year on No Idea Records.

AG: Only asking you this knowing we're both huge movie nerds: were you a Ray Harryhausen fan? He was one of my biggest idols. Been on my mind a lot since his death yesterday. Seems like someone you might have been into. Just curious.

RYAN: Of course! I grew up with stop motion and Harryhausen's effects and the people he inspired. I loved Clash Of The Titans as a kid, along with the Sinbad movies, all the various monster and dinosaur movies he did, Might Joe Young...all that stuff. It was such a big part of movie magic, it didn't seem real - it seemed beautiful and magical. I really hate CG, I'm tired of it and mostly bored by it. I love practical effects, even when they aren't that great. I'll definitely miss Ray Harryhausen and hopefully stop motion won't die with him.

New Bravado - "Unconcious Afternoon EP"

We were funneled onto a blindingly bright Highland Ave, blocked and zoned for Record Store Day. "This band is amazing" my friend spat at me in a hoarse voice. "But I think I'm too high for something this heavy this early in the day."

It isn't that the band is too heavy. It's that the sun is too bright on this cold Spring day, and this a band that should play in dark with fumes, mimes and splayed lights mythologizing them. A picnic band, New Bravado is not.

They had already started. I was a block away and gated a jog to get to the sidewalk in time. After hearing Unconscious Afternoon in my kitchen I got impressed and was intent on witnessing. While Ben Lally's subsequent band Benanthrope blends twists on singer-songwriter material, New Bravado is a pan into fuzzed psych-rock with no inhibitions to that end.

Coffee, short breath, gangrened eyes from the foisted Great Glarer above, and New Bravado is playing at something like noon and oh shit who just handed me beer and wine and the band splays a sidewalk, bending into a space groove. Did we just huff some black ice car air fresheners?

Unconscious Afternoon, New Bravado's debut EP, eats the living flesh and spirit that is Hawkwind, Sabbath, Blue Mountain Eagle, and the 60s/70s fuzz-psych galley. "Death Wobble" mumble sideways with Ben's sweeping vocals, cinch-ringed to a saddle of heavy rock, but sputs any frills and just power chords Thunder and Roses-style into a neurine groove that isn't pretentious, ironic or knuckled. "Nobody Saw Nothin'" isn't a reference to but just sits and stirs in some cosmic shit. The opening wriggle of flange and toms that is the title track eventually lashes to an exotic crease before securing itself to a chorus that makes the drive of the song corrugate with a blend of psychedelia, doomish rock and biker speed that you forgot where you started. 

New Bravado has gotten into the same wind that local favorites Old Baby are kiting, and deserve as much attention. A show between the two would be magnificent; I think their muses interact somewhere in the atmosphere.

Heavily recommended.

New Bravado will play their EP release party at Zazoo's on Friday May 10 with special guests Adventure, The Screaming Hand, and Ancient Warfare.


Bonus interview with Ben Lally:

me: So, when did New Bravado start, how, who came up with the idea, what was the motivation, what was the original intent of the sounds, has it changed?

bEN:  Our bass player Adam Copelin did all of the tracking, editing, mixing, and mastering. The tracking we did over at my house, or "Veggie Beef Stewdio" as I sometimes call it.
I was wanting to do something a little more rock focused than Benanthrope; write for and play out in another outfit that wasn't going to sound the same; something that would allow me to get different ideas out of my skull -the louder, more guitar heavy, rockin' ones especially. I gathered up my tunes like that and called some homies. Adam Copelin, Jason Walker, Colin Kellogg, and I started playing music in late Spring last year as The New Bravados.

Originally, as a base, the songs felt early garage, early psych, early metal, and early punk (Sonics, Stooges, Velvets, Black Sabbath, Zepplin, early Stones, early Floyd) without going specifically in one direction, but starting in a good place. Structurally those first songs we still play haven't changed a bunch, but after practicing every week for a few months, and playing shows they became more bright, thick, nasty and modern. They've been a great proving ground to help us realize our sounds and where we can take them.
Two out of six songs on our debut record were completely written together as a whole band; tracks 1 and 4. And, all of the first ones sound a lot cooler now than they did before everyone sprinkled their magic on them. We've all come together and shared in the process of the songs' evolution and their recording. With a little help from our friends as well. Most notably the invaluable help of Ezra Kellerman on artwork.

That's what I love about this band and where I think it's going: there's an organic, collective creativity and comradery. Everyone brings alot to the table and plays their hearts out. You can hear that on the record, engineering and all. We're working on more tunes now and I'm excited to see where our process will take us.

Interview with McKinley Moore of Natives

Natives has been racing through a liver extract of loosely tightened psych-punk abandonment for a couple of years now. Theirs is a barn of sound, literating a Stooges-cum-John Wilkes Booze rhythm-pound that eventually bleeds an immortal quitch-grass of noisy barrages that swing into a lawlessness of hallucinogenic night talk through three guitars. Behind that curtain of guitar is McKinley Moore, who was OK to talk about their upcoming show at the Louisville Palace as part of the Faces at the Palace series on Friday April 12.

me: What has Natives been up to since Loose Secrets came out? Is there a new recording in the future? What format, if so? What are you going for sound-wise? Any changes? Catch us up on Natives. Obviously, the addition of William from Anwar Sadat is a big deal. How did that come about? What changes has it led to in the sound of the band? Is this Palace show your first live performance with him?

McKinley: Since Loose Secrets came out, we received and accepted an unsolicited invitation to play last years SXSW festival. That was a lot of fun, even though I'm pretty sure it took some years off of my life.

After we got back, we played pretty heavily for a bit and then decided to take a bit of a break from playing to regroup and try to write some new stuff. We've only played once in the past 6 months and that was in Cincinnati w/ our bros The Harlequins.

We definitely plan on making a new record. We already have more than enough new material, so hopefully it happens soon. Not entirely sure about the format, but hopefully it is vinyl again. We were pretty adamant about totally self-financing and self-releasing the first EP. That was a lot of fun and a great experience, but since none of us are rich, we're hoping not to go that route this time around. Sound-wise, I think we're still in the same ballpark, but the new addition is definitely changing things up a bit. William is a beast. He's young and has a ton of energy so it has been a lot of fun. I love Anwar Sadat. I think they are pretty much the coolest shit around. We've all been friends with some of those dudes for a long time and have played a lot of shows over the past couple years, so its awesome having him with us. And yes, this will be his first show.

me: So...will you be debuting any new songs at the Palace show? How did you get hooked up with that bill?

I'm curious, and you can strike it down as me being way off, but sometimes I hear a bit of an Albini-influence in Natives. I actually never got to see you play until AFTER Loose Secrets had come out, so never saw your first shows. I was just wondering where you're sound came from in the first place. As in, when Natives started up, what was the goal as far as any kind of grounded aesthetic to the material. Or was there a goal? Maybe it was more, "let's just see where this goes." I know for a lot of projects I've been, there usually the "let's find the sound," even if its framed by "ok, we're playing around in these genres."

McKinley: We've got a couple new songs that we've been working on and we might play and a couple that I don't think have ever been played locally, so everyone should hear something new that night. As far as how we got hooked up with the whole thing... A good friend of mine, Sydney O'Bryan, is the marketing director at the Palace and set up this whole series. For my day job, I am a glass artist and she used the be the event coordinator at Glassworks. She and I worked together on setting up the first rooftop concerts there in the years before the business went under. All the ones we did were very successful and she's a fan of the band, so I was stoked to work with her again. She let me put the bill together and I know I always get bored at shows where all of the bands sound alike. So I wanted to make sure it was a diverse representation of things going on in this city. Greg from Karass is a friend and I've been really into the stuff they've been making since Dennis Stein (electronic musician Introvert) joined up. And a while back another Sydney, from the Debauchees, sent the band a facebook message saying nice things about us and that they would love to play with us sometime. So I went and checked them out and I really couldn't believe they were that good. I helped put them together with Gill Holland and get them a record deal and now we're finally making the show happen. So, needless to say, I'm really excited about the whole thing.

As far as our sound goes, I don't think there has ever been any sort of goal. It started with Matt Filip and I jamming in his basement all the time after the Invaders had called it quits. Drew joined up pretty immediately. It is pretty much built around the fact that we're all friends and we're hanging out all the time anyway. With 5 people in the band, it tends to pull into a lot of different directions. A couple of the dudes grew up listening to punk, a couple rock and pop, and I'm into more psychadelic stuff. I think all of those influences have helped to turn into this thing that is sometimes tough, sometimes weird and sometimes catchy. I've always been a fan of something Josh Homme said along the lines of "Music should be tough enough for the boys and sexy enough for the girls." And the Albini thing is interesting and makes a lot of sense considering how Loose Secrets was recorded. Most of the credit for that would have to go to Mike Bridavsky at Russian Recording. He definitely comes from that school of recording engineers. When we made that record we had enough money to go to the studio for 2 days total for recording and mixing. We practiced until we had those 5 songs locked down and we recorded all the instruments live at the same time in the same room. Most of them we got on the first take. And when it came down to mixing, we let Mike go at it alone and then listened to see what we thought should be changed. I don't think we made a single change.

Natives will be performing at the Louisville Palace on Friday April 12 with Karass and The Debauchees.

Life Partner - "Dead Wrestlers"

We're stuck in muck. Muck that is slowed down by a non-going Winter. It's eating us all. We're queached in a dumb Winter that has quarantined us in a quicksand pit. Trying to lift our legs and relieve ourselves. But we're stuck in this.  Nothing but wintry discharge. Fucking stupid. Held back.

In this Winter bullshit, the "Dead Wrestlers" tape is a fucking godsend. Like, no, really: GODsend. Like there is a GOD, and everything you thought was bullshit was actually real and the Steve Martin joke about how everything you thought was bullshit that I just repeated was real, and there was a Heaven and Angels and that bullshit was real, and you were handed a cassette from this bearded muscular man from a cloud in an linstock hand firing fucking music at you from beyond reality.

I saw Life Partner something like a year ago at the Chestnut House.That place has died. Life Partner lives. LIVES. And he/it/they still LIVE in the muck, making tuned-down beast-clomp-tempo observations that amount to simple truisms that make a stuck Winter possible to survive. I think he's somewhere still in Chicago-via-Louisville. Doesn't matter. This is mayo for the soul. It's quid for the consciousness, dripping putridly on your fly at 3AM.

This tape is actually more upbeatish than that last one I procured, "Dogs." This one finds the guitars and drums turned up more. Faster tempos. We're still succumbing to Aaron Osbourne's qualmy life view, but it's a life view I subscribe to. These are visions that happen when you don't believe what you see, hear and especially what you do on a daily basis. And you don't care. It's a garage-punk-grunge-rock-fuk all that communicates some sewn honesty.

"Dead Wrestlers" is in direct lineage to "Dogs," but finds it finding more of its own findings, and not fighting it. Bigger. Actually, my main compliment is that there are more songs here to enjoy from Osbourne. His songwriting is to the point; lyrics don't fuck around. Straight to the stab. Doesn't make chopsticks in getting to the coffin. Quaalude vox over downstrummed distortion. Depressocore? No. I find solace jammed in this heavyhanded heartedness. Let's invent new genres. Gloomrock. Bummergazer. Shut up, me. Stupid Kids. That's me. Don't listen to me.

And is the song "Life Champion" referencing Sophomore Lounge mates Giving Up and State Champion? Am I scouring too much into this? That song has the optimism I look for with Aaron: "I'm giving up, your god is dead."

Osbourne writes some goddamned catchy choruses here while addressing the foothills of regular shit that happens in regular life, and it's what I appreciate about his songwriting. I mean, Jesus, "Live for the Day": It's honest and "you have no plans for the future, you're a loser, that's how it is."

So highly recommended. Or lowly recommended. But, really.

Available on Sophomore Lounge and at Astro Black Records.

Plastic Melodies - "PM"

The dishes are not done. Lunch is not made. I get distracted by certain by things in my queue, including this minimalistically-packaged debut from Plastic Melodies, a recently migrated Louisville two-piece that is part of a new bunch of bands that are chopping quickly into the meat of experimental music in this town.

I believe these two are from Bowling Green, but don't quote me. It was whispered in my ear through the spread of talk when I witnessed them for the first time perform at the Rudyard Kipling opening for local crud-punk band Opposable Thumbs back in 2012.

I have an immediate interest in a two-piece; the chemistry that has to exist between the two musicians and the work they need to pull off to fill spaces often punctured and colored by multiple members can be a pressing and magnetic dynamic. Plastic Melodies takes this chore to heart and ups the ante by instead of harkening to the norm of a guitar-drum duo, choosing to confront the chaos with a bass and drum instrumentation. And the spaces are filled fully.

David Lucas slaps, pulls and strums his bass guitar until it turns into a different animal entirely at times. There are nasty distortions and clean pops that encircle each other through his expert use of effects, making the instrument sound like two guitars instead of one, gripping rhythms and leading the songs simultaneously. It's pretty magnificent to watch and hear. His tones double on each other, pounding a hellish punk into the strings. Meanwhile he shrieks and sings, sometimes as though from a tome written by Frank Black, pursing through the creep these songs file into your spine with a throb that is is energetic and driving.

The beat is bound together by Bridget Knight, whom I believe actually has four arms, limbing them around the percussion in an aggressive pound that marries the bass and cracks through the songs, bleeding onto the streets outside the club, quavering the room. These are big drums, and Bridget plies, wheels and rolls around them, blanketing the elbowroom of the music with a heavy quash.

"PM" runs like two bunkies driving a bull-train through any expectations. The album moves quick, each song running under three minutes. It's a loud, fast trail drive that never delivers less than punches. A heavy, Mephistophelean rock record that reads quick and perfect. 

It's heartening to see Louisville being held up by the happening of young bands like Plastic Melodies and The Debauchees. It means only good things are still to come and we are in no danger of things slacking here.  

Raw Thug - "Black Walmart"

 

We were knee-deep in bug juice, building smokes, waiting for the train. The cardboard box castle that surrounded us had collapsed. Desperate and cold, I drove a bull prick into the dried calabash we had been worshiping this whole time, hoping the dust would levee our boredom. Then a hand reached out, grabbed my elbow and dragged us through the forest to the house. We drank in quantities and someone yanked the tape player from the broomshed. The moon was hot and bright. My four teeth were on the edge.

From a red paper sack scrawled with the yellow words "Raw Thug Black Walmart," a carefully rolled pair of white tube socks were produced. The oven was kept on bake and the door was open to heat the house. From the carefully rolled pair of white tube socks a cassette was produced. With a sneeze, Mephistopheles pressed PLAY. I wiped my brow off with a shredded roll of toilet paper, stared at a 1960s map of the Atlantic Ocean Floor, and cupped my hands to my ears. A smiling clown was boiling something that smelled of brussel sprouts.

A howl sang from the distance in the woods, whistling on the wind that carried it to us. Ribbits of another instrument crept slowly in, controlling the time. There was this ghostly wail, a saxophone. Eventually the backyard was singing with reversed screaming as a maddening percussive light made everything into a pale swirl of aural characters, most of which I could not identify. Things got quaggy real fast.

Within a breeze at least four to seven miles an hour, a mad Satanic dance erupted that culminated with the chant of an insane electronic owl. Mephistopheles stopped Side One, flipped the copper tape, played Side Two. Wailing horns caught like an animal in orgasm played on in a shifted flash of pinned jazz, casting its bombardment afar. The sounds became a quantic broadcloth that saved us from the ensuing eruptions from the woods. I haven't recovered, yet. 

This is Arsenio Zignoto's world; we just try to live in it.

Released by Loin Seepage.



 

Half-Cocked: A Memorial Screening; Thoughts on Jon Cook and Jason Noble

The Louisville Film Society screened two showings of the indie cult film “Half-Cocked” at its Dreamland Theater as part of several memorials that are scheduled to celebrate the life of Louisville musician Jon Cook, who passed away on February 9. Cook’s death, along with the passing of Jason Noble in August 2012, have bereaved this city’s local scene of two musicians that provided an immeasurable amount of influence, support, creativity and wonderful sound over the years. 

Both Cook and Noble are among the main characters of “Half-Cocked,” which also features Tara Jane O’Neil, Cynthia Nelson and Jeff Mueller. The film, directed by Suki Hawley and co-written with Michael Galinsky, centers around the lives of these five young people as they struggle to live in Louisville during the early 1990s, crashing at the Rocket House, a real place that has garnered a real legendary status as a music house owned by Cook. Driven by frustration, O’Neil steals her brother’s van and takes the ensemble on a road trip to Tennessee. During the travels they attempt to make money by acting as a band, playing shows with improvised music, fighting poverty and eventually becoming that band, which is basically Rodan.

O’Neil narrates the movie, which supplies black and white imagery of Louisville as a backdrop to the alienation and loneliness that can drive people bonded in their early 20s by shared desires, but who often find themselves wrestling with which directions to direct their talents, hopes, and ideas. It’s a love song for anyone who has ever been cemented by music and art in a “scene,” whatever that might mean, trying to find something in common with the city and society surrounding them. The fact that the cast is composed of actual musicians from the 1990s Louisville music scene who are, in my mind, iconic at this point, makes “Half-Cocked” that much more special. Each member of this cast contributed droves to the music that has come from the River City the past two decades.

I’ve seen “Half-Cocked” once before this showing, but knowing the people involved in the film now makes me view it as though I’m seeing it for the first time. Both Jon and Jason, through the bands Crain and Rodan and other countless endeavors, added not just music to this town, but helped push and direct sound into new directions, and brought just as much personality to the arts scene in Louisville as songs. With them both featured so prominently in this film, and musical contributions aside, seeing them interact, knee-to-knee in one scene, discussing money made from t-shirt sales and door money, you notice their personalities transferred onscreen.  Jon’s frenetic, staring energy meeting Jason’s gawky, supreme kindness.

“Half-Cocked” makes a viewer appreciate the friends you make in your youth, and makes you appreciate those friendships that eventually grow older and eventually exit. Being involved in a tumultuous time period crashing on couches because you don’t know where else to go might be lost on some people. But a lot of those friendships that are founded in those uncomfortable spaces hold true for decades, weathering through all the boring social battles and clique clichés. It takes certain people to immerse in this lifestyle. A line from the film, “there’s something that makes you want to do this,” caught me. 

I’m not writing this as a friend of Jon Cook or Jason Noble, which is unfortunate. I’m writing this as a fan of Cook’s music, and Noble’s music. I never got to know them well. But making music in Lexington during this time period, listening to them for 20 years, always feeling connections to the musicians from my hometown, and getting to know many of their friends upon returning to Louisville; I feel that loss heavily. This was a special showing for LFS to undertake and I appreciated it. 

This article can also be read at getoutlouisville.com.