Read the Transcript and listen to the audio below

Kristine: Yeah, so with the pandemic being such an internal, domestic, house-ly time… to be out and on stage and in front of people again performing this new music is so overwhelming, so new. 

Alex: Kinda just diving right into the experience.

K: Exactly, but it was super rewarding. We had such a good time. 

Hailey: It was amazing seeing it!

Alex: For sure. Real quick, could you introduce yourself and the band and sorta what you do?

K: Oh yeah! My name is Kristine Leschper, I have a wonderful band, we play music. I have a record called “The Opening, or Closing of a Door”. It’s my sorta debut– it’s my first album as a solo act, but I’ve put out other material under the moniker Mothers. It’s good to be here talking with you guys!
A: Thank you so much! To get back to performing, how was it coming back?

K: So good to be back in Georgia honestly, that was a big selling point for this festival. We drove 12 hours to get here and we’re driving 12 hours to get back home tomorrow so we really wanted to be here, it just felt like the right place to do my first show as a solo artist. I feel like we had a really warm welcome, a homecoming!

A: It’s so special that this is like a moment for you guys, most bands are going somewhere else since it’s the Stopover tour.
K: Yeah, we’re not going to SXSW, this is our final destination.

A: Savannah kinda feels like a place for a lot of people where it’s more a skip-over than a stopover, which is kinda unfortunate. So it was great to see your guys’ passion onstage, it was very apparent that you guys were so excited to be here. Your performance was interesting, there was going on there. What inspired some of your choices with the instrumentation, the clapping…?

K: The clapping started off as just a recording technique, just to get some syncopations because I’m not really a percussionist, and hand clapping was something I heard in some flamenco music I was listening to. I found it super inspiring, like ‘I can clap.’ Not like a flamenco artist, they’re doing next level stuff, but I figured I can make patterns with my hands so that was very accessible. So as I was demoing I just added claps, maybe as a placeholder, but I ended up really liking the way they sounded. I liked that it became sort of a group activity, to clap with other people, it felt really good. And the other instrumentation, we’re just trying to keep it really fun and dynamic. There are tons of different ways you can approach live sound, and it was difficult to get all the sounds on the records in a live format since the record was a lot of overdubbing, layering, it wasn’t like live. So that’s been a fun challenge, just figuring out how many different sounds we can get with just five people on the stage. And as you saw, everyone’s very busy working a lot of jobs. I’m a very curious person, and to just have all these new things to play with is great. 

A: Something I think is really tough to capture on stage, especially in a venue with this much space, is a sense of intimacy. I think you guys did a great job of capturing that and part of that was things like the nutritional yeast shaker on stage and stuff like that. Could you speak a little about that?

K: On the nutritional yeast shaker and intimacy? [laughs] Well something great about making the record is my friend and collaborator Garrett Burke, who’s on percussion, makes a lot of his own percussive instruments like shakers and bells and anything that can make sounds. He’ll go to the thrift store and get a big bag of buttons and tie them together to see what they sound like. So it’s just this ethos of discovery, like “what does this sound like?” and that keeps things fun and interesting. I love the nutritional yeast shaker. It’s weirdly become a big talking point on the record. As far as the intimacy of it all… I was very nervous tonight, and in the past I felt a need to have a cool kind of distance from the audience. I didn’t think anyone could see that I was nervous, like it would make me a bad performer. But tonight I’m learning to be like “I’m nervous, I’m cold, it’s my first show in 3 years, what do you guys think?”

H: I think it shows humanity.

K: Yeah, it’s like I’m nervous, I’m just a person. I think it’s cool to just be a person doing things with other people, and it’s like we’re all on the same level. It’s supposed to be a shared experience, and I want to foster that environment. 

A: That’s awesome. What are some of your lyrical inspirations?

K: That’s hard, that’s a tricky one. I read poetry sometimes. My early songwriting was very influenced by poets like Anne Sexton, these kinds of confessional poets, like intimate and internal. Like E E Cummings blew my mind, and I was just like “wait. There are no rules? You can do whatever you want?” so that was really formative in my writing. It’s hard to say, but recently I’ve been feeling very inspired by the poet June Jordan who’s also an activist. Her poetry is very liberatory and celebratory while also acknowledging the imperfection and suffering in the world, which is, I think, just the best thing that art can do. To just say that there are so many things to celebrate and we need to do that together and enjoy each other, but also acknowledge the thighs that are really messed up. So she’s been a huge inspiration. That’s a question I should spend more time with, that’s hard. 

A: As our final question, coming from an art school background, how does working as a visual artist impact you working as a musical artist?

K: I think it allows me to zoom out a little bit. Because my foundation in art school helped give me a background that allowed me to be critical of myself without being demeaning. How to step back and be like, something’s working here but something’s definitely not working. So that background in critique and collaboration definitely helped me to look at my work that way. Something else is that I think of music very visually, like I like to think about music and recordings in particular as a sculpture. So it’s kind of like you can visualize all the different frequencies, which are almost topographical when you think of all the different ways something can enter and leave a song. So yeah, I think of recordings as sculpture in the round.

A: Thank you so much for talking with us!

The post Interview with Kristine Leschper at Savannah Stopover 2022 appeared first on SCAD Radio.

Listen to the audio and read the transcript below

Freeze: Woohoo!

Alex: So really quick, could you introduce yourself and maybe explain the band a little bit?
F: Sure, so I am Nordista Freeze joined by the rabble rousers, the motley crew, my touring band who go by the names of Sma, Bryce Dubray of Future Crib, Trevor Ault “Best Hot Chicken”, and S. Grant Parker (former teacher). We are from Nashville where I was born and raised and we have played 625 shows and we are having fun, we’re gonna be on tour for two months.

A: Great! So just on a personal note, I saw you five years ago in Akron, Ohio–

F: What?! Oh yeah!

A: –and I kinda wanted to know how you’ve grown and changed over those five years.

F: *contemplatively crunches chip* Well, you saw me in June of 2019 I wanna say in that basement house show. So since then I’ve done a very slow album cycle for an album called Big Sky Pipe Dream. Starting a month after I saw you I put out Wysteria, then over the course of COVID I put out 10 more songs, up until September 2021.

A: All as singles?

F: Yeah, it was like 2 years of singles basically, all direct track to tape. Fought through COVID, took a long break from shows but I was basically playing up until the gate closed and right when it re-opened in terms of COVID. How have things changed…? Well I’m older now than I was, so i think my perspectives have changed. But in other ways I remain constant, like I’m very grateful to play and I don’t take it for granted at all. So I have the same secret weapon I’ve had the whole time: 110% juice! 

A: yeah, it seems like performance is the whole lifeblood of what you have going on. How do you keep the same energy level year after year?
F: Just kinda approach it like an athlete, take it show by show. Go out there and try to get the W, you know? Focus on your bounce pass and your jump shot and then when you’re in the championship you’re like “I was born for this!”
A: So what do you think of savannah?

F: I like Savannah a lot! So touring for me has always come from a DIY perspective because i didnt have booking or management until covid so it’s kinda just been me figuring out myself. Even though I’m from Nashville I don’t come from a musical family, so playing music started by playing house shows in Nashville, then club shows in Nashville, then house shows in the surrounding Tennessee area. We’ve been all around, like Canada and the west coast, but we tend to stick most with the Southeast and the Carolinas and Georgia. You know, I first went to Charleston and I liked Charleston’s vibe, but then a hop skip and a jump away was Savannah, which is like Charleston but crazier, for better or for worse it’s like Charleston’s rambunctious older sibling. I played El Rocko to eight people and Kyle Brown of Chipper Bones and Dog Days I would say took me under his wing. He helped get me booked at Savannah Stopover 2020 after that show and let me open for Illiterate Light and I played after Reverend Bro Diddley and the Hips, and after that I met all those cats and they helped me play Victory North, that LiveNation venue by the water, returned to El Rocko… You know, like Jalen Reyes became my drummer for a tour, who plays in their band, and that just brought my relationship with them tight. They brought me up on stage at Victory North when they opened for Future Birds and did a Television cover, so yeah we’ve just grown really close. When you tour there’s homes away from home, and I can say with sincerity that savannah is a city that i care about and I feel cares about me. It’s just special hanging out late in Savannah, one of my favorite things to do. RIP Cuban Window Cafe!

A: So what got you into music?
F: Beach Boys and Beatles greatest hits, hippie radio oldies 96.3, my dad who led childrens worship and did a puppet show. So I think I’ve always been interested in performance and entertainment in a general sense, I like music a lot. I did choir from like 4th-10th grade and was in like the best choir in tennessee. It was very strict, so I learned a lot. And I grew up in the church of christ, which is a non instrumental denomination of christinity, so that’s definitely how I got into singing. My older brother got me into electronic music in middle school, like Daft Punk and Black Moth Super Rainbow of Graveface Records, shout out Savannah, GA!

A: What are your greatest influences as far as performance style?

F: Soul Glow Activatur of the band Family Force Five, Daft Punk, The Avett Brothers, Of Montreal, Dawes, hyperpop.

A: What is your goal as a performer?

F: Hard question, I dont know. I guess there are two goals, the internal one to make the art you want to make, which can be dissonant or cooperative with your secondary goal of interacting with a crowd and creating an engagement where people leave with good memories, but I couldn’t say that the latter is the only goal because if that were true I would probably make more of a generic sound. You gotta stick to your artistic inclination as well, so I guess there’s some dissonance there. But it’s definitely the two of those, following your internal artistic spirit and placing it up against a crowd and working them together to try and create an interesting and special and sweet moment. 

A: So for my last question, what’s your favorite moment you’ve experienced as an artist.

F: Aaah! I can’t really think of a much better one than two minutes ago [when I just performed at Stopover]. I know it sounds like I’m cheesing but really, can you think of a better thing? It was really fun, you know playing Stopover to a whole new room of people, playing Victory North, LiveNation, El Rocko, then returning to Stopover post-pandemic really felt like a culmination. I don’t think it’s the peak of my career, but it’ll definitely be a mountaintop I’ll look back on. 

A: For sure. Thank you for talking with us! We really appreciate it.

F: For sure! Were my answers good?

A: Absolutely.

F: Sweet.

The post Nordista Freeze talks Influences, Savannah and Growth at Stopover 2022 appeared first on SCAD Radio.

SASAMI gave one of the most intense performances at Stopover–she mimed electrocution via guitar cable, engaged in satanic rituals, and had the crowd entranced by her demonic on-stage antics. There were moments of cathartic release brought on by heavy and fast metal songs, and there were moments of angelic highs created by SASAMI’s gorgeous writing and stunning voice. 

Below is Alex and Hailey’s conversation with the musician: 

SCAD Radio : Could you introduce yourself? 

SASAMI : Hi! I’m SASAMI and I’m a musician from Los Angeles and my backing band, Barishi, are from Vermont, and we’re here in Savannah, Georgia! 

SR: What were some of the inspirations behind your performance? You have a really unique stage presence—what’s inspired that for this album cycle? 

S: Demonic channeling and…demonic meditation. 

SR: It feels really ceremonial in a super awesome way. 

S: I kind of black out for 40 minutes, so I don’t really know what’s happening. By the end, I’m covered in bruises and cuts and I know I’ve earned my check somehow! 

SR: There’s a major shift between the two albums you’ve released—they’re worlds different from each other. 

S: As people change and go through different moods, like sometimes we have periods of our life where we’re partying and being f*cking unhinged and sometimes we have parts where we’re like “I just want to take a bath and read books and not talk to anyone”. I think it’s pretty normal to make art that goes all over the place. And also, this album is 50 percent of my catalog, so for people to perceive my sound as one album is misguided. 

SR: Who are some of your biggest inspirations? 

S: I was really inspired by the Japanese art horror film scene, like Hausu and Lady Snow Blood and watching a lot of Miyazaki films and kind of getting into this fantasy headspace when I was making the album because I wanted it to be not as autobiographical and more about creating a fake world that people could project onto. 

SR: Thank you so much for talking to us and thank you for the great show!

S: I hope I come back! 

The post Interview with SASAMI at Savannah Stopover 2022 appeared first on SCAD Radio.

Stopover is also in need of volunteers at the festival–you can sign up to volunteer here. You can purchase tickets here. You can also follow the Stopover festival on Instagram for updates.

Check out interviews that we’ve done with previous Stopover artists Honey Cutt and Tristen.

The post Savannah Stopover is Back this Year with Amazing Lineup appeared first on SCAD Radio.

The sound of “Kno Me” embraces the guitar-heavy, full band sound of Paper’s previous record, Abracadabra–it’s a vaguely funky, sorta-kinda rock aesthetic, marrying over-driven guitars with goofy synths. The guitar chords that kick off the track maintain the backbone of the song along with the steady beat with an arpeggiated synth coming in and out. This indescribable hybrid of genres makes for a joyous and unexpected exploration–with Jerry Paper, you never quite know what to expect.

 The lyrics highlight this point as well: though much of the song repeats the titular line “You don’t know me”, it drives home the heart of artist-fan dissent. Despite what listeners might believe, it’s impossible to truly know an artist you’ve never met, even if you’ve consumed all of their artistic output and read every interview. The music video for the song indicates this as well. It features Jerry in full pink cow-person garb failing to mount a horse, climatically ambushed by a member of the paparazzi. 

In 2020, Jerry came out as non-binary on Instagram, an announcement welcomed by many, but questioned by others. The balance of private and public is a struggle for many in the entertainment industry, and it seems that Paper plans to tackle this aspect of his life in Free Time. The caption of the “Kno Me” music video states: 

“Kno Me” is taken from the synth-pop, weird-rock, bizarro-muzak masterpiece: Free Time, an expression of Jerry Paper’s freedom on their journey to self-discovery as a nonbinary artist, groover, and, most importantly, shaker of a**. 

The tracklist for Free Time is quite exciting for fans of Paper–it features “Gracie III”, a sequel to the first and second odes to their wife, Gracie (the second being a fan favorite). “Shaking A**” and “Duumb” pique interest as well. 

Free Time comes out on April 15th.

The post Artist Jerry Paper Has Released Single “Kno Me” appeared first on SCAD Radio.

The application may be downloaded here:

A Google Form application is also available here.

The term of each assignment is one year from March 2021 to March 2022. Students must be enrolled at the Savannah campus for fall, winter and spring quarters to apply. The leaders are paid a monthly stipend during those quarters.

For more information about applying, contact Kat Medina, director of student media, at kmedina@scad.edu.

The post SCAD Radio Accepting Leadership Applications appeared first on SCAD Radio.

SCAD Radio : I guess just to get us started, could you introduce yourself and give us a brief description of Frog? 

Danny Bateman of Frog : Hi, my name is Danny Bateman. I have a band called Frog that has been around for I guess around 8 or 9 years in different incarnations. It started out as a duo of me and my friend Tom White. I had him learn drums so that he could play drums while I play guitar, and we were loud and had fun. And that was really what our first album was–us being loud and having fun and figuring out how to record ourselves. Then it sort of became this little odyssey that we went on trying to find interesting things that were happening between the two of us. And that was really fun. We played a lot of shows in the New York area–we’re from New York. And then around the time of that album, Tom moved to England–he’s since moved back–but I had to figure out what to do after that, and I just kept the band going (laughs). Now, in this new incarnation, the latest one that I’m recording with and playing with, is me and my brother Steve. He still had to learn drums to play in the band. I’m not really good at finding great musicians–I just find people that I love, and then I make them play the drums (both laugh). That’s my current working framework. But Steve has been incredible, and the music we’re making is just unbelievable, I’m so excited about it. 

SR : I read a kind of track breakdown of Count Bateman (Frog’s most current album as of publishing) and you mentioned that the song “You Know I’m Down” almost didn’t make the cut, and your brother encouraged you to keep it on there. Could you go into more detail about that story? 

DB : So Count Bateman was the music I was making by myself when Tom was getting a little bit less involved and moving away. I didn’t know really what it was–I thought maybe it was a solo album whatever that means and my solo name was going to be Count Bateman. Bateman is my last name and Count Basie is an influence. Yeah, I bought this 8-track half-inch tape machine and I was figuring out how to make music on tape without a computer and [“You Know I’m Down”] was an interesting track. I wrote it and recorded it in a very short amount of time–I don’t think it was more than a few hours. And it just sort of flowed–it was kind of a little fun, tongue-in-cheek a little bit. The lyrics were about someone sort of opening the door to an affair. I thought that was really interesting–there was something kind of large lyrically and something really funny and childish musically and pairing the two. I liked it, but the way that I mixed it–it was one of my first mixing forays and I just put it through my TASCAM mixer and I just mixed it live, which I haven’t done before, and I haven’t done since.

It just sounds really different, at least to me, and it was a little bit less serious. But again Steve–I became a lot closer with my brother Steve–and he became part of the process, helping me with the recordings that I was making. He was really down with some tracks and he wouldn’t let me keep that off the record (laughs). I don’t listen to Count Bateman, I don’t really listen to any of my music that much but I’m glad he kept it on because I do love the first verse lyrically. I think it’s very funny, so I’m glad it’s on there. 

SR : How has it been working with family in the band? 

DB : Unbelievable. I have two brothers, they’re both a lot taller than me. I think because I started smoking cigarettes when I was sixteen and it stunted my growth. But Steve is the baby–he is I think 28, 29. He’s always had his own style, y’know. He was always really interesting and had a lot of different musical talents. My other brother wasn’t really into music in the same way. Being able to have a really close relationship with your brother–it’s just so beautiful and it’s really one of the biggest reasons why I love the band and I’ve had so much fun keeping it up even though I have my whole life outside of it that’s very, very, very demanding right now. So, it’s not easy. Yeah, it’s been incredible. It’s just amazing. I love it so much. 

SR : I saw that you’re relatively a new dad, so congratulations on that! How has having a band and playing music changed since becoming a dad? 

DB : Fatherhood–well I had twins, I had two at once. Y’know, I recommend to everyone listening, including you, that if you decide to have children, to try one at first. I think that’s really a better way to do it. You can sort of get your feet a little wet, and then maybe a little bit later, “Oh! I got this kid thing, maybe I’ll try another one,” y’know? This style is just brutal. But it is amazing, and I love my kids so much. But it’s just actually insane. Just the totality–it takes everything you have. But that’s okay, it’s part of life. Part of being human. 

As far as the band thing, I had them during COVID, so there wasn’t as much going on with anything. I went remote with my job and I wasn’t really able to do anything, and then I went on pat leave and I was just with them all the time–and that was insane. That was crazy. So I feel for all the moms out there, single moms–Jesus Christ. I’ve sort of been dipping my toe back in–we played one show, two shows, I don’t remember. We’re playing a show in Boston on Friday. It’s just a lot more coordination, and it’s not easy to make it work, not even just because of the time that I spend with my children and working, but because at the end of the day, I’m just like, broken (laughs). So I really have to dig deep to be able to do the same things. Basically, it just makes things a little bit slower–or a lot slower, depending on my mood. 

SR : Do you have any fun stories from touring? 

DB : Yeah, we played a bunch of shows in the Northeast–I mean we played a sh*tload of shows in NYC obviously, but we have a fanbase in Boston, so I go there sometimes. We have a big fanbase–or at least we did, initially–I think it’s still there, in the UK, and so we toured there, and that was pretty amazing. There’s actually a documentary about it: Kings of Blah it’s called, it’s on vimeo. And I can’t watch the documentary because it embarrasses me too much (SR laughs). There’s one particular part that really embarrasses me and I don’t know why I brought it up because I hope no one watches it, but it sort of encapsulates our lives, me and Tom’s, at the time. It was just such a freaking great time, and we met a lot of people and played a lot of amazing shows. A lot of people showed up, and at that time in our lives, it was right after Kind of Blah came out, we’d play shows in NYC and like four people would show up, and then we went to the UK and there were like, a hundred people. So it was a big, exponential difference. It was really great to be part of. 

SR :  Yeah, I saw the documentary, and I thought it was really sweet. It was the comments that your wife was making at the end–they were really heartwarming.

DB : It’s a funny thing (laughs). We were just having a blast. Alex was–he’s the director, he’s our friend–he was just taking the camera out all the time, no matter how drunk we were or where we were. So he captured a lot of moments for everyone involved, like my mom was there, my brother Steve was actually there. And those moments–the ones that he loved the most and he kept in were the ones that I wish he had kept out. The only things that I wish were on the cutting room floor–that’s the whole documentary. That’s his sense of humor. 

SR : Could you talk a little bit about your songwriting process? How do you go about finding a balance between humor and honest emotion? 

DB : Songwriting is an amazing experience that anyone can really get into depending on their proclivity. But it’s not accessible. Really, the way I look at it, you’re sort of like an archeologist. You’re starting with something that’s out there, y’know, whether it’s the vibe of a song or in the past few years I’ve been influenced by non-musical things like a movie or a scene in a movie. There’s this movie called Atame by Pedro Almodóvar that I watched and really–in every scene, I got lost in it. Especially on Count Bateman, a lot of the non-musical stuff–like, how do you create a scene in a song that’s like a movie. You sort of take things that are out there, and then as far as how a song comes together, the way that I do it is on a piano or guitar, I can’t be paying attention to what I’m doing, I’ll just be playing and doing something else at the same time and then something will happen and I’ll go, “Oh! That’s something,” and I’ll try to record it, and then I’ll find it again. Y’know, you just ask it, “What happens?” and it tells you if you ask it right. Hidden inside of each note is a word or a melody. It’s just right there, in there. And you just sort of have to coax it out. And it comes together. (Laughs) That’s how it happens with me at least. 

SR : What would you say are some of your biggest inspirations? 

DB : Obviously, musically, the stuff that I tend to produce is influenced by the stuff that I came of age listening to and I was always drawn to non-mainstream indie rock in the 90s–like Pavement, but not just Pavement, every single contemporary in that whole scene. Me and my friends were just devoted, and really the way that sort of shaped me–that’s where I came out of as far as a continuum. But then I only listened to hip hop for about six or seven years. Lil Wayne–he’s still one of my favorite artists ever. I’m very influenced by all music, especially music that’s lyrically focused. I think that’s such a beautiful aspect of music, that especially people in genres that hue closer to mine don’t really think that much of. They’re not really that into it. If you’re going to say something, you should say something. It should be meaningful. It’s something that I’ve always taken really seriously. 

As far as non-musical stuff, I mean, yeah, I watch a lot of movies. I really love Almodóvar, I really love–I went through a big Kubrick phase. I’ve seen every Hitchcock movie. I really like visual movies. Really it’s not about the plot at all for me, or even the actors. It’s about the world, the visual world. It should be a moving painting. And that’s what is exciting to me in movies, and in books as well. And I think that when I make something that’s good I’m doing that–I’m building a world, and the work that I like and am most proud of is really building that world.

In Count Bateman I was doing something that I didn’t really exactly achieve–I was going for something really, really out there. Sort of 70s, shamanistic with a drum machine, but I only had these tools that make it sound singer-songwriter-y, which held it back from getting it where I wanted it to go fully. But even so, I hinted at it, which is a step. But that’s what I’m influenced by, is the little worlds that people build in art. 

SR : I feel like in a lot of articles that I’ve read you’re labeled as Americana, do you feel like regionality plays into the music of Frog? 

DB : Well, that’s interesting that you say that. Y’know, I’m an American of course. I’m from New York City, I’m from the New York suburbs. I lived in New York City for 15, 20 years. Part of what draws me into things is the way that people talk and the way that people from different parts of America talk. And part of getting to the place that I think I’m journeying somewhere interesting that I can sort of get lost in and create something that I can get down with is sort of doing something that I don’t know that well. So people think that I’m like, Southern or something. I’m influenced by the way that people talk and sing. The more esoteric, for me, I like it more. Part of creating artistically is creating a version of yourself that you’ve never heard. You’re trying to write something that you’ve never heard or said before or read before. You’re trying to take what you know and do something completely different.

 And that’s what’s really fun and exciting about being an artist, is trying to do that. So as far as Americana, I love country music so much, like Hank Williams, I was a super fan. But yeah, my family is from the Midwest, and I don’t know. Just the way people talk there and the way people talk all over in regional dialects sort of hints at something so big. And that’s where I want to go. It’s just something that ends up in the music somehow. 

SR : What got you into the sound of Casios and keyboards?  

DB : I mean, we had a Casio! I named my band after the Casio. There was this one sound on this one Casio that I found that was called “frog”, and it was unusable. It was the worst sound, you couldn’t use it in any sound. It sounds so bad. And I said, “that’s us.” And that’s how the name started (laughs).  

Really, with the tools you’re using, it’s better if you don’t have many options because then you can try and do something different using a limited palette. You need a limited palette–it’s imperative to have. I mean, you’re an artist too, I know that obviously the computer opens up anything, just like in audio. But it doesn’t really help you to do anything because it becomes, “Well, what should I do then?” You have to sort of start somewhere. You need a limited palette in order to really get somewhere. I do. I don’t have willpower (both laugh). Choice is bad! You need to have no choice. 

SR : You have a label as well, Tape Wormies. What brought that about?

DB : (Laughs) Is that a label? So, I had this label that I was working with, Audio Anti-hero, it was my friend, Jamie. We were internet pals and then it got to the point where they decided to take a chance and put a little investment and money into Kind of Blah. And Jamie ended up moving to New York City and I got them a job, and they sort of stopped the label that they were working on. So, I decided to just go with myself and hire Jamie to do the PR part of it. This is something that I do because it’s worth doing whether or not I do a good release strategy. The Tape Wormies label is just something that I put a name on for this process. I’m not really interested in the business side of music as an entrepreneur. It’s horrifying. It’s not a “business”. Business in quotes. That’s what that is. It’s not really a label. It’s just something I use to release music on, or I did once. 

SR : I like that it kind of goes with Frog, since frogs eat worms–that’s kind of nice. 

DB : Do frogs eat worms? I thought they ate flies. 

SR : Yeah, they do! 

DB : Well Alex, thank God you told me that because now I feel vindicated by my choice of label name. 

SR : Is there any context behind the album cover of Count Bateman? 

DB : Well, this was an only me album–I wore all the hats. I did everything, I recorded everything. And for better or for worse, I was the only thing that drove it. It felt funny to do a Lil Wayne type, young person picture on it. And my friend Emma took these Polaroids of us when we were 15, and that was a pretty funny one (laughing). It sort of fit with the vibe–it was recorded on tape, and [the picture] looks from another era, I guess it sort of was. Even though that’s scary to think about. It just kind of worked somehow for me, that it was me, pimply and what I was at that age. 

SR : Do you guys have any current projects in the works right now? 

DB : Yes! We have a new record. This is my first record recording with Stevie, and I’m so overjoyed with what we’ve been able to do. I mean all of my bands since 2013 have been two people max, and so, it really is an intense sort of relationship. Instead of talking, you talk with music, and really anything that comes out of it is a reflection of the relationship. And it’s just been so amazing, the music that we’ve been making. I am blown away by it. Really excited to finish it–I think we’ve got four songs done, and then a bunch of songs that are somewhere not done. 

SR : Do you have a home studio situation or are you recording in a studio? 

DB : We have a home studio. Actually, back in the day, I went to college for recording. I didn’t really go to class, I didn’t really learn anything there but I did get into recording gradually by doing it, which is really the only way to learn how to do anything artistically–you just have to do it, and that’s what really got me into recording. And whenever I try to get someone else to help mix or produce, literally, every single time, I have to do it myself. I don’t know–for better or for worse, I want it to be a way. I can’t find someone who can do it so it’s my way but professional, so I just do it my way. And that’s how it’s worked out! 

SR : What do you think of the direction of independent music today? 

DB : Interesting question. As far as the scene in New York, I don’t really hang out. Y’know, I have kids–if I leave my house, there’s a really really really good reason. I don’t go out anymore, really, unless there’s some occasion that I have to go out to.

 Back in the day, when I used to play a lot of shows out there, a lot of the kids were starting their own little DIY spots and it was a really interesting little scene. New York is a tough place to try and play music because everyone’s like, “I grew up somewhere different and now I’m in New York City” so they try and be cool. And so they act a little mean. So it’s a little like highschool kids that don’t think they’re highschool kids anymore, but they still act like kids. I never really was at home in that environment, and I don’t think anyone really thought that I was part of it. 

As far as today goes, on the internet, there’s a lot of amazing things about how artists and bands meet each other and collaborate and make music on the internet. One of the biggest bummers is that people seem to gravitate towards really easy wins, and things that are really easy to do–and this is just a general thing but it affects music too–but instead of focusing on trying to do something different musically they become something and look some way and sound some way to be an emo person or what have you. It’s not really about music, it’s more about the world as it is.

 As far as the music business goes and Spotify or whatever, everyone complains about it, and rightfully so, but as someone who really tried to be a professional musician in 2009, people don’t remember that. That was so much worse. That was really bad. The music business didn’t exist. The internet destroyed it, and they didn’t understand it. The major labels–they’re really dumb people, and they could never build any sort of new platform that could change everything and make them money again. And I think people hate on it, rightfully so, it’s very difficult to make money but like, for one thing, Spotify doesn’t make any money. They lose money every year, just look at their accounting. They’re a public company. And they pay 70 percent of what they get to whoever owns the rights. Really, the problem with the music business from an independent artist’s standpoint is that there are many more artists than ever before, there are like millions of artists now when there used to be like, 300 artists that released records worldwide. And now there’s a million who release a song–there’s like a million songs released every day. The only way to survive is to do something real that you really think is worth doing no matter if anyone listens to it. The rest probably won’t figure itself out, but at least you’ll feel good about what you did, if that makes sense. 

SR : I’ve got one more question for you. What are you most proud of as an artist?

DB : I don’t really like to look back that much on my old art because it’s not productive. It’s alright out, you can’t change it anymore. I guess Kanye did, which is pretty interesting. You could kind of see his artistic process happening on the album everyday. In general, I don’t usually listen to my own music, or at least not the music that’s out. 

But as far as albums I like, I love all of them except for Whatever We Probably Already Had It. It’s my least favorite and that’s really only because Tom was leaving and he wasn’t able to be as involved so we couldn’t spend a lot of time on it. And for whatever reason, it takes me a lot of time to start something and find something interesting and really go off on a journey and get something really different than what I was trying to do. And that’s the fun part, where I’m like “wow how the f*ck did this happen, I would’ve never thought this up” just through the process of doing it over and over again. A lot of it is writing songs and then seeing how to record them. And that album is–how we started it–it’s basically our live set. Which is, in itself good, and I like that approach. I love the Ramones and that’s what they do, it’s just that’s not what I dig as much.

So as far as the albums I like most, I love Kind of Blah even though I was kind of bummed out about how that turned out in the moment because I was going for something different and my production skills weren’t able to get it to the place I wanted it to get to. But when you listen back now, it works anyway a little bit. I like that one. I like Count Bateman. I guess the thing that I can say I’m most proud of is that I have two kids and a mortgage, a full time job, and I’m still doing it. So, I don’t know how that happened. I actually can’t believe that that happened. That’s I guess really the achievement, is that I kept at it. 

The post Interview with Danny Bateman of the Band Frog appeared first on SCAD Radio.

“Is It Enough” combines those catchy tunes with a pleading question about whether or not a relationship is going to work it out. The quickly strummed guitar chords lend to a feeling of distress, and the contrasting sweet melody keeps things fairly light. The message comes through while still providing a highly enjoyable experience. 

Here’s SCAD Radio’s Music Director, Hailey’s take on the track:   

Immediately as it started playing, I had high hopes for this song. The beat got my head bobbing, and as soon as I heard the lead singer, I could tell they have great vocals. I can imagine listening to this in the car vibing with the windows down on a slow afternoon. I also love the guitar solo; it’s an enjoyable break in between the chorus. It’s a simple song but a fun one to listen to. 

Check out their single here.  

Read our interview with them here. 

The post New Single by Orange Constant Is a Super Fun Listen appeared first on SCAD Radio.

Celebrated in its day (it was even chosen by Pitchfork as the best album of 2001) and today, The Glow, Pt. 2 has lasted the test of time. It’s innovative yet unschooled recording techniques are still distinctive and fresh. The lyrics are in a sweet spot of general and specific, utilizing nature metaphors to describe intense human feelings. The structure of the album also contributes to its impact. It deftly runs through the trajectory of a life-shattering breakup amplified by the throes of youth, composed of painful lyrical tracks interjected by denser, noisier tracks. Even the carefully placed instrumentals play a valuable role in the emotional landscape of the record. 

The initial stretch of three songs that begins the album has an almost legendary status. Perhaps surprising to those who have only heard the virtues of the album extolled by inaccessible indie music bros, the first track, “I Want Wind to Blow” has a very catchy and foot-tappable tune to it. The guitar jaunts onward despite lyrics that tell of post-breakup pain. The end of the song is an instrumental build towards an explosive, energetic climax. Huge, banged out piano chords echo through, beginning to quiet down until the hard hitting notes of the second track, the titular “The Glow, Pt. 2”, jumps in. Quickly, “The Glow” moves from distorted electric guitar chords to frantic acoustic strumming complemented by Elverum’s pained singing. Following this track is “The Moon”, with its initial circularly picked, layered guitar that expands into a field of organ and saxophone and words taken straight from a stream of conciousness journal entry. 

This trifecta defines the tone for the rest of the album, which expands upon central themes of loss, growth, and identity and how those things are all intertwined. “Headless Horseman”, “My Roots Are Strong and Deep”, and “I Am Bored” particularly explore these themes. All of them seem to come from different points in the process of grieving his relationship. “Horseman” is fairly raw, the central image coming from being lost without a head–a motif that recurs a couple of other times on the album. “My Roots”  is more confident and determined–he is proclaiming that his identity is solidly defined. “I Am Bored” describes being at the bittersweet point in a breakup where it’s no longer painfully thrilling to be around the person you once felt so strongly about.

A lot of the album explores the often confusing tumult of emotion that happens during transitional periods of life. There is a lot of yearning for warmth–”The Mansion” describes finding a source of the desired glow with no possible way in. But there are also moments in which Elverum basks in the isolation that came with his station in life, illustrated by “I Want to Be Cold”. Buried beneath the wall of sound that is “Samurai Sword”, the lyrics describe a scene in which Elverum’s ex is represented by a polar bear, and he is a lonesome traveller, sword in hand, stalked by this bloodthirsty bear. The imagery is somewhat silly but stark and affecting combined with this tornado drums and guitars. 

Throughout the entire album, a “foghorn” (it’s actually a heavily tweaked sample of a note played on a bass guitar) ambiently plays between songs for various stretches of time. It creates an atmosphere of a distinct place–laden with Twin Peaks-like mystique and a mournful quality. The final track, “My Warm Blood”, begins with a short piano and guitar melody along with lyrics about Phil almost peacefully bleeding out and dying after the events of “Samurai Sword”. A heart beat fades in, then out, as well as memories represented by clips of previous songs on the album, and the foghorn continues on in the background. Life has moved on despite the fact that we’re listening to our narrator’s end. The next (and final) project by the Microphones, Mount Eerie, begins in a parallel way, signifying rebirth on an album that strives to dig deeper and transcend beyond representation of human motions. 

The impact of The Glow Pt. 2 is incredibly far reaching in the music world and beyond. The song “The Glow” by Sylvan Esso is inspired by singer Amelia Meath’s discovery of the album while she was in highschool. The concept of the glow in Bryan Lee O’Malley’s graphic novel series Scott Pilgrim plays a critical role in the narrative–it represents the villain’s tactics of emotional manipulation towards Ramona Flowers. Even rapper Lil Peep sampled a couple of tracks from the album (“Headless Horseman” and “(Something)”). And these are just a few examples of the influence the album has had. 

On a personal note, it’s pretty difficult to write an eloquent summation of my feelings on this album. It’s basically become a part of who I am. So much of my work and personal philosophy has been tied to this album and Phil Elverum’s work that it’s difficult to be critical of it and extricate it from myself. Even though it makes my job as a writer challenging, it speaks volumes about the punch that this album packs. My first listen was on a drive home in my highschool friend’s car, and I haven’t stopped coming back to The Glow, Pt. 2 since that day.

Check out our article reviewing The Microphones In 2020, which also serves as an insightful retrospective of The Glow, Pt. 2.

The post Legendary The Glow Pt. 2 Celebrates 20th Anniversary appeared first on SCAD Radio.

His latest record, Call Me If You Get Lost, details the life and times of Tyler Baudelaire, an eccentric and taste-making world traveller. Tyler’s titular character from his previous album, Igor, was more focused on the intricacies and pains of lost love–Baudelaire has his fair share of musings on this topic, but he also discusses his material wealth, and the growth and success that he’s worked for.​​ The beats are well-composed colllages of samples, chords, lead lines, and ad-libs. The music on Call Me successfully illustrates the world that Tyler Baudelaire has constructed for himself. It’s jazzy, sophisticated, and full of references to his world travels, but it also speaks to the vulnerability and pride that comes with being a renowned artist. 

The album subtly takes the listener on a journey through the narrative of Tyler’s feelings about a complex relationship. After “SIR BAUDELAIRE” introduces us to his new persona, “CORSO” jumps right into Tyler’s emotions on a girl. Albeit vaguely, he outlines his position succinctly, “Look, tried to take somebody bitch ’cause I’m a bad person/I don’t regret shit because that (woo) worth it/In the end, she picked him”. He then goes on to explain that it’s really alright, he can just purchase himself out of the pain that he’s experiencing. “WASYANAME” tells an idealized tale of meeting this girl, with Tyler asking her about herself and explaining to her in an almost breathless way how he’d seduce her. “SWEET/I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE” is a reflective ballad that describes the mixed messages received from his object of affection. 

Most of these aforementioned songs give us glimpses of the full narrative behind this complicated affair. The penultimate track on Call Me, “WILSHIRE”, brings to light the complete details of the alluded to relationship, outlining it from start to end. It’s a rare moment in Tyler, the Creator’s discography, which he even points out, saying “I just try to keep anyone I care about in the shadows / Safe from the commentary and spotlight and thoughts / ‘Cause it’s just a story for the people outside of it / But I guess you’re just another chapter in the book”. The song is one of the most vulnerable of his career, calling attention to the complications of personal relationships and the frustrating intricacies of being a public figure. 

As much as this album discusses this particular romantic situation, it also takes a really close look at Tyler’s relationship with his fans. Inherently, being a public figure comes with challenges. People have expectations of you, your art, and everything else. Some want to be with you, others want to be you. It’s often easy to forget that our favorite artists are, in fact, human beings, and Tyler seems to be finding himself dealing with critics and fans that are inconsiderate of his personhood. On the other hand, fans are the very reason for his success–in some ways, he’s indebted to them for all that he has. “MASSA” recounts his humble beginnings and career, commenting on his early artistic output, pointing out how unfair it is that projects like Goblin are still held over his head. “MANIFESTO” tackles similar themes, addressing calls from the public to take stances on political hot topics.

“RISE!”, with it’s Stereolab-esque chords, juxtaposes the confidence of success and the fear of losing it all–the verses have a self-assured bravado, describing the hard work that success has required, but the pre-chorus reveals a nervous compulsion to beg people to “please don’t go, please just stay”. This plea for perhaps fans and lovers alike to stay by his side successfully ties together the two major themes on the album. Bragging is often a form of protection from emotional vulnerability–a concept that Tyler has played with on his previous two albums. In “911/ Mr. Lonely” off of Flower Boy, he muses “I say the loudest in the room / is prolly the loneliest in the room (that’s me)”, a direct call out of his own tendencies. 

Although he may be struggling with similar subject matter, Tyler the Creator’s artistic growth is indisputable. Album after album, he’s created a different aesthetic world to fall into–no small feat. It seems like he’ll only continue to climb for the foreseeable future.

The post Tyler, the Creator Explores New Persona on Latest Album appeared first on SCAD Radio.