In-Depth With Caroline Smith

Photo by Amanda Johnson

At the tender age of 18, singer-songwriter Caroline Smith cut her teeth on the Twin Cities’ music scene at the 400 Bar, the West Side watering hole that has served as a launch pad for adored local artists like Mason Jennings.

In 2007, Smith joined forces with Arlen Peiffer (of Cloud Cult), Jesse Schuster, and Colin Hacklander. A year later, the quartet released their debut album, Backyard Tent Set under the moniker Caroline Smith & The Good Night Sleeps. The group has since completed several national tours, shared bills with big Indie acts like Dawes, and received substantial critical acclaim for their quirky, storybook-style folk music.

While the band’s latest release, Little Winds, veers into new sonic territory, loyal fans will continue to be wooed by Smith’s heartfelt and unforgettable lyricism as well as her feisty, youthful energy. Don’t be fooled by Smith’s seemingly precocious nature, however; this chick knows her stuff and isn’t afraid to stand up for herself.

 I spoke to Smith in anticipation of her next big gigs: opening for DeVotchKa at the Minnesota Zoo on July 6, a show with The Jayhawks in Duluth on July 7, and a two-night-stand at the Minnesota State Fair on August 25 and 26.

You’ve said that the making of your latest album was a trying time for the band because you were “in transition.” What about the process made it so intense?

Caroline Smith: We weren’t prepared to write the songs that came out. Everyone talks about how different our first album is from the second album and it’s true that the two are very different, but we didn’t do that intentionally. When we were writing these songs, they were just coming out of us. It was very jarring. We were asking ourselves, “Is this who we are? Is this what we do?” We fought against it, but the songs ended up being a balance of all of our personalities. It was challenging to accomplish everyone’s ideas in one project. There was some fighting, a lot of tension. But we came into our own because of it. No, that’s the understatement of the year. We almost broke up because of it. But we came through and we’ve had an amazing year and we’re all really excited about the music that we’re making and we’re all very proud of this album.

I just saw you play at the Live Letters’ An Evening With Friends Event, and I wanted to ask you, as a performer, how the experience differs when you play in a small venue like that versus a larger space. Do you have a preference between those?

CS: I prefer playing smaller venues. My favorite venue is the 7th Street Entry, but we’ve grown past that. It’s kind of sad. But, yeah, I like intimate, acoustic shows. Playing in a room of people listening is more relaxed and laid back. The stress and excitement of a big show is fun, too, but that’s not really why I write songs.

Photo by Jenn Barnett

At the Live Letters show, you covered a Beyoncé song (“Why Don’t You Love Me”). First, I want to say that I hope you record that, because it was awesome.

CS: Thank you.

And then I wanted to ask you if exes inspire most of your songwriting, and if bad relationships provide better material than good relationships do?

CS: I hate to be the woman who has to say this but, yes. If you’re in a safe, steady relationship, the writing comes harder. I used to write a lot about exes, but I’m in a relationship with a great guy now and I’m happy, so I don’t write so much about boys anymore, at least not from my personal experience. What I’ve been doing is taking from my girlfriends’ experiences, and I get to write vicariously through them. They’re advice-based, empowering songs.

Could you speak to your experience of being a female in the male-dominated music industry, or is that something that you’re not even aware of? Are you just one of the boys?

CS: I am constantly reminded that I’m in the male-dominated music business and it’s really frustrating. I’ve been doing this for a long time and I’ve worked on my craft, not only as a songwriter, but as a singer and an entertainer and a musician. I know how to use my gear and my levels, but sound guys will talk to me like I don’t know what I’m doing and I want to say, “I got it.  I’ve been doing this a long time.” It’s almost belittling because no asks the guys in my band anything, because the assumption is that they know what to do with electronics.

We’re a band that is always on tour, so I see these things all the time.  If I say something gross between songs, people notice, but if a guy were to say those things, no one would care.  I try to rub up against it. I play with aspects of it. It’s very fulfilling as woman to do that, but the reality of touring is frustrating sometimes.

They probably won’t like me saying this, but the dudes in my band are a little effeminate. They talk about their problems and they’re respectful.  They’re in touch emotionally.  They take care of me.

How do you deal with unwanted attention from male fans?

CS: That gets tricky. We were playing a show with Trampled By Turtles—have you ever been to a Trampled By Turtles show?

Yes.

CS: Then you know: their fans get really rowdy. They don’t have a lot of girls open for them or playing with them, so I don’t think they were prepared for this, but we were playing and it was a crazy, drunk, raucous night and there were a group of guys heckling me and saying offensive things, and I was like, “How do you perform through something like that?” I don’t know. My mom taught me to be strong. I don’t take a lot of bullshit. I’ll say, “You’re in my comfort zone” or “Don’t touch me” or “Back away.” I’ll see a guy coming my way and think, “Oh, no, I know exactly what you’re after” and throw the hand up. The creepy Facebook messages are less threatening. I laugh about those in the van with the guys in the band. So let this be a warning: if you send me a creepy Facebook message, it will get laughed about.

Smith (left) with Trampled by Turtles frontman Dave Simonett (far right)

As you mentioned, you’ve shared stages with big names like Trampled By Turtles, but I’m also thinking of Dawes [whom Smith and the Goodnight Sleeps opened for on New Year’s Eve] and soon you’ll be opening for DeVotchKa. Do you ever feel intimated by these artists or is it just business as usual? Do you ever get starstruck?

CS: Trampled By Turtles are my buddies, I mean, I know they’re a Top 4 artist now or something, but I think of them as my buddies. Minneapolis is a really supportive community, but I don’t think I’m above it. It’s great when national artists come through and they get to see the best of what we have to offer. I got starstruck when I met David Bazan. He said, “I really like your music,” and I thought, “I’m going to pass out right now!” I’m the worst at being starstruck. When I met David Groth—he’s my favorite person in the whole world—I almost died.

Where’s the strangest place you’ve written a song?

CS: Hmm… [Pause.] The weirdest place would have to be on the beach, waking up in Crete, which is off the coast of Greece. But I don’t usually write songs in strange places.

Do you have a structured schedule for songwriting?

CS: I do. I usually write in my bedroom. Sometimes in the van, though I can’t do much with a song there. I also have a huge, irrational phobia of writing in front of other people.

Photo by Emma C. Cook

If you were to voice a fairytale character for a Disney film, which one would it be?

CS: I don’t watch many Disney films, but I guess it’d be The Little Mermaid.

What is your favorite State Fair food?

CS: Fried pickles.

Is there anything on your iPod that you’d be embarrassed for people to find out about?

CS: Dave Matthews. Nobody will every understand it. They will just tease me ruthlessly for it. I went into hiding for a while about how much I like Dave Matthews. Then I came out and said, “I am a fan!” and now I’m back to keeping quiet about it again.





Tune into "Live From Studio 5!" every Wednesday from 10 PM to Midnight on KFAI radio for more local gems!

- Erica Rivera

Take Five: An Interview With Cory Chisel

Raised in Appleton, Wisconsin by a Baptist minister father and a piano-teacher mother, it’s easy to see why themes of faith, death, desire and redemption circulate through Cory Chisel’s music. His handcrafted blend of Americana, folk, and gospel sounds create a spellbinding sensation for listeners, evoke haunting, pastoral scenes, and make for a memorably intimate live show.

Chisel’s full-length debut, 2009’s Death Won’t Send A Letter, was produced by Grammy-winning Joe Chiccarelli (The Shins, White Stripes) and featured members of Band of Horses, My Morning Jacket, and the Raconteurs. The album was described as a “dark and urgent rock and roll vision” and led to collaborations with the likes of Brendan Benson and Jack White.

Chisel’s right-hand woman is Adriel Denae, the angelic vocalist who accompanies him on recordings and in performance. 

Together, Chisel and Denae are gearing up to tour with Norah Jones this summer. I spoke to Chisel in anticipation of the June 26 release of the new Cory Chisel and the Wandering Sons album, Old Believers, and the band's upcoming appearance at the Turf Club on June 28.

Most interviews with you begin by mentioning that your father is a Baptist minister and asking about your spirituality. 

Cory Chisel:  Yeah.

So my question is: are your childhood experiences still influencing your music today or do you have a set of beliefs that are unique to you?

CC:  My beliefs have grown stronger and stronger and farther and farther away from what I learned as a child.  I draw inspiration from all types of spirituality, but I’m just as influenced by gospel, blues, and R&B.  People enjoy my music regardless of what their spiritual beliefs are or what God they believe in.

Does the title of your new album refer to anyone in particular?

CC:  It does.  It’s a reference to a type of person, but I don’t mean “old” as in outdated and archaic.  “Old Believers” is a phrase I came across in a book; it’s a reference to the Orthodox and the people who rejected the constraints of the church, but that’s not the way I’m using it in the album title.  I’m thinking of it as a guy who’s been down for a long time, but is still a steadfast human being, a journeyman.  It’s the type of person who is interested in growing.  It’s almost a religion unto itself.  I know a lot of people like that.

Nature seems to be a critical part of your songwriting.  How do you stay connected to nature when you’re on the road?

CC:  It’s a big struggle.  There’s a lot of fucking concrete between here and the Coast.  I guess that’s why I put nature in my songs; that’s how I pack it up and take it with me.  I feel most at home in the woods.  I feel like my real self when I’m there.  The difficulty is to find that in a place like New York City.   Unless you can curl up inside a song.

How did you come to partner with Adriel? 

CC:  We met when we were younger--25 years old--at a show I went to in support of a friend who had passed away.  That night was already a heightened experience because of the emotions about this person and the celebration of his life, and then Adriel walked in with the band she was playing in at the time.  When she started singing, that was it.  I was over the moon.  I knew I had to do whatever it took to work with her.

Does she do any of the songwriting?

CC:  She does.   It’s definitely a collaboration.  Her role is also being the main source I run every song by.  She’s my first audience.

Yet her name isn’t in the band title.  Is that intentional?

CC:  Adriel came into the Wandering Sons when it was already formed, but our relationship has become a collaboration.  She has been my most consistent wandering son.  She’s also working on some songs that she’ll release on her own, so she’s saving her name for when the time is right for her music.  When that happens, I’ll be her wandering son.

You once did an ad for Lucky Brand Jeans.  If you were to ever endorse a product again, what would it be?

CC:  That’s a tricky question, because I only endorse things that have a soulful approach.  When Lucky came to me the first time, I needed to make money just to stay alive.  The reason why I was interested, though, was because they wanted to partner with us as artists.  It wasn’t about modeling.  It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.  My record label wasn’t going to put my name on a billboard, but Lucky was.  And they were going to talk about my music.  If I were to do something like that again, it’d probably be for something I use every day…like wine.

Perusing your Facebook page, it looks like hats and painting are some of your other favorite things.

CC:  I’ve always had a fascination with my grandfather’s era.  The men always looked sharp—you know, unless it was late at night—but it stood out in my brain that men wear hats.  They were fancy, and that’s right up my alley.

And paintings…I just really love them.  If I had a dozen or so lifetimes, I would get into painting from an early age.  I draw more inspiration artistically from paintings than I do from music.

And wine…I’m just really interested in how it’s made.  It also helps with self-consciousness.

Your hometown, Appleton, is known for its cover bands.  Can you speak more to what the music scene is like there?

CC:  It’s changed a lot; whether or not we had anything to do with that, I don’t know.  Initially, no one started a band in Appleton to go anywhere; it was mostly out of boredom.  Appleton is a completely agreeable place, so if you were feeling disenfranchised, your choices were:  break the law or break shit or rock n’ roll.  

There were no venues for original music then, so the only places you could play were things like German Fest, and they wanted a certain kind of music.  That’s where the cover band thing started.  It’s like a get-together in a house; rather than play a song you just wrote, you and your friends would rather sing a rendition of an Elton John song.  It wasn’t intrinsically sad, but I wanted to focus on new ideas, not revel in party music.

If you were to cover a rap song, what would it be?

CC:  That’s a good question.  I really like Wu-Tang Clan and Ol’ Dirty Bastard.  He has a song called “I Like It Raw” that I’d like to cover.  If I were to do it more seriously, maybe something by The Roots.

What are some of the places that you like to visit when you are in the Twin Cities?

CC:  I lived in Minneapolis for a while, actually.  It’s one of my favorite places.  There is every type of pleasure to be indulged.  I’ve gone to grimy shows at the 400 Bar to some of the best shows of my life at First Ave.  I went down to the new Twins stadium; that was fun.  And Minneapolis has great record shops, of course.

Where do you envision yourself in 50 years?  Do you think you’ll still be doing the same thing?

CC:  Still doing the same thing, but hopefully with a little more swagger.  [Laughs.]  My dream would be to have a little place everywhere.  I had a house in Wisconsin and discovered that wasn’t really for me.  Now I have a one-bedroom in Nashville.   I could see myself traveling to Europe, having a place in Scotland.  If I really put my money where I wanted to, I would just live free.  Spend time on the Iron Range—my family is all from Minnesota and still lives there—so a cabin on the lake would be nice.  I guess I’ll have to sell more records or rob banks to make that happen.

Tune into "Live From Studio 5!" every Wednesday from 10 PM to Midnight on KFAI radio to stay up-to-date on all the amazing artists touring through town!

- Erica Rivera

In-Depth With Remo Williamz

“There are worst things to be than in demand,” Remo Williamz says when we finally connect after a game of phone tag.

Williamz should know. He’s been hustling on the hip-hop scene since the late ‘90s.

“I did this backwards,” Williamz says. He tells me his unusual story of starting out in the music biz at the top, in “huge studios I had no business being in,” visits to Motown and Universal records, a recording “boot camp” that produced 13 songs in two weeks, and an intense period of traveling to and from L.A., Philadelphia, and Atlanta.

When Williamz finally settled in the Twin Cities and emerged on the local music scene, “Where the hell did you come from?” was the predominant reaction.  It took time to break through the Minnesota (n)ice veneer and connect in a genuine way with his “circle of cats” that include Kanser and Unknown Prophets.

“I haven’t done a ton of branching out,” Williamz says.

What he has been doing is working hard on his latest release, On Location, an LP four years in the making.

“It’s pretty sobering,” Williamz admits. “I learned patience with this album.”

When asked if there’s a theme surrounding the On Location songs, Williamz says, “I’m trying to show off versatility. It’s extremely well-rounded. There are a good amount of love songs. The ‘Baby, I love you and I want to move in together’ song, the breakup song, the ‘I hate my girl, but I like you’ song. There are songs about religion, about friendship, about running into someone you haven’t seen in a while. In the past, I’ve written about the experience of a dope fiend, of what rehab is like. I write relatable stories.”

Though the heft of the material sounds like reason enough to necessitate a gestation period between releases, Williamz says the delay was mostly due to finances.

“The scene is so unpredictable. I’ve had songs ready and been in a few situations that dried up due to working with someone who was an egomaniac, unreliable, or both. There are a lot of guys on the local scene who are in it for weird reasons.”

Williamz’s response has been one of “establishing a presence, having faith, and making a flagship capable of moving forward.”

With his new album, Williamz’s aim is to create a work of art that fans will hold onto, something that will stand the test of time, a collection of songs that can be appreciated long after the initial buzz has waned.

“Artists fall into a pattern of just trying to prove they can rap,” Williamz says. “But an album shouldn’t be a talent contest every time a beat comes on.”

What listeners will notice on the new release is how Williamz will use his voice to mirror the “delivery of a natural conversation.” When one is excited, one speaks faster. When one is telling a secret, the voice softens.

“I go from a melancholy whisper to full-on yelling and everything in between,” the rapper says.

When asked to compare and contrast the hip hop scene in the Twin Cities to musical communities nationwide, Williamz cites the sheer number of acts and the fulfillment of fans as strengths of Minnesota.

“There is definitely a good amount of opportunities to build together. That’s what’s behind the vibe we give off nationally. Of course you will also run into people who think it’s predictable. We live under that stigma, but it’s more of a talking point.”

The way Williamz sees it, there are different approaches to hip hop music in the metro.

“It’s a supportive community, but there are some people that are more entrepreneurs than they are rappers. They might have a studio where they bring in nine to ten acts a week to record, and seven aren’t making worthwhile music, but they pay the bills that way. That takes a certain kind of moxie. For me, music is personal, both in exploration and in execution. I would hate myself if I lived like that.”

Williamz, a refreshingly upfront interviewee, chooses his words more carefully when the subject of the Twin Cities Hip Hop Awards (which was cut short this year due to brawls in the crowd) comes up.

“It’s sad. I personally haven’t gone [to the awards] in years, since the first time I was scheduled to perform. It was supposed to be my big moment.”

Fights broke out—and broke up—the ceremonies that year, too.

“The scene needs to find a way to cater to the people so it won’t happen again,” Williamz says. “You simply can’t have enough security to stop that kind of activity if that’s what they’re determined to do. I’m not saying they shouldn’t market to people who aren’t prone to doing that sort of thing, but hip hop does carry with it that ultra machismo, negative tone.”

Williamz wonders aloud if a theater setting would be more conducive to a civil crowd, but “it’s not like he [the organizer of the TC Hip Hop Awards] can call up the Pantages Theater and ask to have it there.”

Conversation shifts to Williamz’s vision for the future of his career. “I’d like to be making music at the point where it pays for itself. The market is so oversaturated, but I’m trying to put out a real, worthwhile album that an eclectic crowd can appreciate.”

When asked to pinpoint his aspirational sweet spot, Williamz indicates somewhere between a superstar like Drake and a down-home hero like Zach from Kanser.

“Right in the middle of those two,” Williamz says with a chuckle. “I hope that when fans hand me $5 in exchange for something that took me four years to make, it will be seen as an act of trust. It will mean that they’ll ride with me.”

Williamz performs on June 21 at Honey along with Sadat X. His new album drops in late July/early August.

Tune into "Live From Studio 5!" every Wednesday from 10 PM to Midnight on KFAI radio for more Q & A's with local artists!

- Erica Rivera

Take Five: An Interview With The Lower 48

Formed in Minneapolis in 2009, The Lower 48 made the all-too-familiar pilgrimage West to Portland, OR, after releasing their debut EP Everywhere To Go. Now comprised of Ben Braden (Vocals/Guitar), Nick Sadler (Vocals/Drums/Harmonica/Trumpet), and Sarah Parson (Vocals/Guitar/Bass/Piano), the trio makes melodic, lively tunes that evoke bonfires, backyard barbecues, and carefree reverie. The band’s first full-length, Where All Maps End, was released in 2011. I spoke with Ben Braden in anticipation of the band's May 4th show at the Cedar Cultural Center.

Based on the band's name and song lyrics from your latest album, geography seems to play an important part in your music. Could you speak to its influence?

Ben Braden: That's mainly me. I'm fascinated with maps and moving, how you can move so little on a map yet the distance between places feels so far. The band name has nothing to do with geography; I just thought it was a really cool idiom that not enough people use anymore. The record name, Where All Maps End, came from when we moved out here--and by "out here" I mean Portland. We were still stupid kids--we're still stupid kids now, hopefully a little less stupid--and we'd never done anything like that before. I'd always had a map for life: school, summer, school. Moving out here meant there would be no map anymore. This is where all maps ended.

One of your bios describes your band as "organic". What does that entail?

BB: We record ourselves. We don't have a producer. We use all real instruments. We play simple songs and we play them beautifully. The music is not dressed up or fancy. It's not auto-tuned or synth-y. A lot of people can pick up their guitars and play our songs. People can do what they want with the album; learn the songs and cover them.

Many musicians have gone back-and-forth between Minneapolis and Portland. Talk about how the scenes are different.

BB: A lot of people ask this question and I never have a good answer. People expect it's going to be the same, but it's different. The Twin Cities has three good radio stations where it's possible to get your music played or get interviewed on (The Current, KFAI, and Radio K).  Radio is an amazing resource because it focuses on local bands and gets people out to shows.  The Twin Cities has so many entry-level music venues, like the 7th Street Entry, the 400 Bar, the Cedar, the Varsity, the Triple Rock.  There are not as many entry level venues with good sound that people can go to out here and there's nothing you can listen to on the radio--except college radio, with a limited signal--that will tell you about local shows. I think that's just the culture of this town. It's harder to build a fan base in Portland, though our following in both places is similar now. We can get 400 to 500 people in a show in either place, though it took 2 1/2 years out here, whereas it took 9 months in Minneapolis.

Does that ever make you want to move back?

BB: There are other, personal, reasons keeping us here. There's a song on the new album, which we wrote after moving, called "Miles From Minnesota". It's cheerful and upbeat, and while I still like that song, real life, which has been a fun and exciting experience, isn't like that. I pay my own bills now, which was a big undertaking. It's tougher and harder out here. It's not all roses and buttercups.

Have you ever run into a musician that left you starstruck?

BB: There are a lot of big bands in Portland and I've had personal run-ins with big names and it's like "Holy crap!"  But when we're a band, onstage, I feel like we can take on anything, like nothing can faze us, and I don't say that to sound arrogant.  My first instinct when I run into another musician is to treat them like anyone else.  Some people think it's important if a big person likes your music, but it really doesn't matter to me.  There's no quick way to fame; there's no short-cut.  You just have to work.

Are you doing music full-time or do you have day jobs?

BB: I'm doing music full-time. Some of us still have day jobs. We're in a weird, transitional stage right now. [Yawns] Forgive my voice. I turned 21 last night.

As I was looking over your Facebook photos, I noticed a lot of neck ties.  Is that a "thing" for you guys?

BB: Ties, yes. I like ties. It's a burgeoning theme. Me and Nick always want to wear black neck ties.

What was the inspiration for that?

BB: Some bands can pull off that "I don't give a damn; come as you are" thing and look cool, but we can't, so I had the idea to come up with some sort of uniform, some sort of look. It might sound like a cheap gimmick, but I wanted to store that familiarity in our image. It's like the difference between the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. The Beatles had the suits, the ties, the haircuts. The Stones looked like "whatever" and it worked for them, but not for us.

What's your goal for the band? Is it fame or to be self-sustaining?

BB: That's a big question for me. I'd like to take it as far as we possibly can. We're really motivated. We're close to being self-sustaining. In a year, we'll be living crappily off of it, like Ramen noodle living off of it. I don't know if we'll ever play an arena, because we aren't that kind of band. I guess we're going to find out.



Tune into "Live From Studio 5!" every Wednesday from 10 PM to Midnight on KFAI radio for more local acts making their way home!

- Erica Rivera

Take Five: An Interview With These United States

Photo by Sarah Law

These United States are an Americana act defined by their boisterous sound and energetic live show. The band’s tunes are as lively as they are wistful, as renegade as they are poetic, as rough around the edges as they are sensitive. Like The Lost Boys of indie music, these vagabond wanderers are a little bit country, a little bit rock n’ roll, exuding both a bad boy edginess and an endearing innocence. These United States straddle the line between trouble-making tendencies and old-fashioned Southern charm. There’s an untamable, almost dangerous air about Jesse Elliott, J. Tom Hnatow, and Justin Craig (the band’s core, who have played together for four years) yet they’re the kind of guys your mom would insist on inviting over for a home-cooked meal.

While the band’s previous album, 2010’s What Lasts, leaned toward a more somber, introspective sound, These United States’ forthcoming, self-titled release is louder, more rowdy, and packed with songs that would make the ideal addition to your summer playlist.

I spoke to frontman Jesse Elliott the morning after the band’s tour kick-off at Cause in Minneapolis, during which they debuted two new members, Aaron Latos and Anna Morsett.

I’ve noticed a few themes over and over again in your music: water, mortality, and maps. Could you speak to how they influence your songwriting?

Jesse Elliott: Interesting. I never thought about that. I suppose there are theories about dreams and psychology and how those things are connected. Water and death, how maps relate to life, and the fun stuff, the exploratory side of life. I like to write about the light and the dark being combined. Everyone in the band believes in being honest to the way we feel about the world and I think we are all equal parts optimists and pessimists.

It seems like you guys are perpetually on tour.

JE: Yeah. We started five years ago and since then, we’ve done around 900 shows. We were doing 200 shows a years and scaled back to work on this new album.

Is home a geographical place for you or is it a state of mind?

JE: I think it’s both. For me, I literally don’t have a home address. Home is New York and Denver and Toronto and everywhere in between. For three of my bandmates, Brooklyn is home and Tom’s home is in North Carolina, but we have many geographical homes. At first, I felt homeless, but now I feel like I have multiple homes. Right now, I’m at my sister’s place in Minneapolis. Chicago feels more and more like home, too, as does New Orleans. We have an extended geographical family and our metaphorical family is expanding, too.

Reading over your blog, it would appear you guys are a thinking man’s band. Not to say that other bands aren’t…

JE: Most musicians are pretty damn smart. Maybe people aren’t willing to admit to it or express that because a lot of music is about fun. And that’s great, but it goes so much deeper. I don’t think of us as all that different from other bands. We’re curious about bigger things. Tom is the most strictly literary of the band members. Justin is a serious reader. I have a writing background, but I wouldn’t pretend to be a voracious reader. I like the idea of collage; I’m more of the multimedia person in the band.

Have your bandmates ever vetoed a song lyric?

JE: Yeah, there have been those moments, for sure. I am just as open to that as Tom is open to me commenting on a pedal steel part or Justin on a guitar part. I have the good fortune of trusting their judgment. Every once in a while, one of the guys will say, “That kind of makes me cringe,” so I pull it back a bit.

This spring and summer, you’re touring with Trampled by Turtles, followed by a tour with Heartless Bastards. Does the testosterone ever get to be too much with that many men on the road for such a long time?

JE: It does. Luckily we have our new bandmate, Anna Morsett, who is a more powerful, smarter individual than all four of us guys combined. She will overpower us with her sheer smarts.

Has the name These United States ever been responsible for misperceptions about the band and what you guys stand for?

Yeah, it has. That’s part of the reason why I chose it. I liked that it was open to interpretation. We’ve been accused of belonging to the far left to the far right and everything in between, and I’m fine with it. I like the geographical and the cultural connotations. It’s representative of the big, crazy, freewheeling country we live in. I think it points out the pluralism of our country. How people interpret our name is usually based on love or hate; it’s also a good indicator of how those people view the world.

What is your favorite gas station snack?

JE: [Laughs] That’s an easy one. We all like crazy, spicy, wasabi party mix. We’ve come across so many variations of it, but most of them have sesame sticks and wasabi peas. We’re party mix people.

And what about a beverage?

JE: That’s trickier. The only one we would all agree on is coffee, because we need to stay awake sometimes and it provides a warm, comforting backdrop to look out the window to. Beyond that, we diverge into various forms of alcohol, fruit based beverages, and, once in a while, water.

These United States open for the very sold-out Trampled by Turtles show at First Avenue on April 11. Visit the band's website for a complete list of upcoming tour stops and look for their new album on June 12!



Tune into "Live From Studio 5!" every Wednesday from 10 PM to Midnight on KFAI radio for more must-see local and national acts!

- Erica Rivera

In-Depth With Courtney McLean

Please note:  This interview contains profanity and mature themes.


Courtney McLean is practically the poster girl for a new breed of crooners on the Twin Cities' scene: the comedic musician. As if that title weren't brag-worthy enough, she's also a pioneer of naughtybilly music. Her band, Courtney McLean & The Dirty Curls, was the first of its kind locally, and the most sexually explicit in the U.S.  I sat down with McLean at Common Roots Cafe in Minneapolis for the low-down on how she came to be such a genre-busting gal.

Originally an actress from California, McLean moved to New York to hone her stand-up skills, then ventured to the Twin Cities to perform at the Fringe Festival in 2006.  As someone who dreaded auditions, the Big-Fish-Small-Pond atmosphere appealed to McLean.

“I loved writing my own stuff and performing it onstage, but New York was overwhelming. I needed to remove myself. I came here and I felt like the bee in the Blind Melon video. I’d discovered my people! Artists were self-produced and toured on their own. It was hard work, of course, but so rewarding.”

Not long after making the move to Minnesota in 2007, McLean began fronting the misbehaving bluegrass band Courtney McClean & The Dirty Curls.  Though the first line-up fizzled out, McLean recently decided to try again.  A casting call yielded a revamped band including Anna Weggel, Anna Popinchalk, Samantha Harris, and Rachel Wandrei. The Dirty Curls' refurbished image is  “demure juxtaposed with the ugly and forbidden.”

McLean is taking her time to write new songs while the Dirty Curls learn the old tunes. Recalling one rehearsal, she says, “It sounded so good, I started crying."

I ask McLean why, given that she has such a talented group of musicians, she decided to continue on with the sexually explicit material, knowing that it would limit the group's exposure.

“Isn’t it as limiting as any other genre?” she asks. “I mean, unless you’re making Top 40 cookie cutter bullshit, I don’t think you can expect to get on the radio. I don’t need to be famous. I’m not saying it wouldn’t be a wonderful by-product, but I don’t need that. This is just one of the many things I like to do.”

McLean's first love remains comedy, a passion she shares on stages throughout the Twin Cities regularly. She can't imagine approaching her music any other way.

“If it’s not sexy and funny, I wouldn’t want to do it. I’d just be another whiny chick with a guitar. I want to do what resonates with me and brings laughter to the world. We make people laugh about something that people don’t normally laugh about. Sex in our culture is confusing. We make fun of the foibles. There’s not a lot of shame in my songs. There’s pride and truth-telling. When I sing that I’m too lazy to be on top in 'I'm No Cowgirl', it hits a chord with people. If we can break through that ceiling, people appreciate it.”

McLean cites a woman “my mother’s age” who approached her after a show to say, “It’s so important that you are doing this.”

“Have you always been this sexually open?” I ask.

She has. McLean credits Monty Python for piquing her carnal appetite. “My dad always watched it and there are topless women on that show—in a crazy, artful way.”

Even from the tender age of 5, McLean remembers drawing naked women. As a pre-teen, “I used to dance in my room to Prince’s Batman soundtrack. I remember wearing spandex and fishnets and rubbing up against my bedpost. My Barbies were always doing it. I drew nipples on them. I identify as a heterosexual, but I have a fascination with the female body.”

Despite the seemingly precocious personality, McLean didn’t have her first French kiss until age 15 and didn’t lose her virginity until age 19.

“My friend and I made a deal in high school that as soon as one of us lost our virginity, we would call each other,” McLean tells me. “I left her a message at 3 AM one April morning saying, ‘I think you know why I’m calling you…’ ”

As for how her grown-up boyfriends handle her wild side, McLean says, “The man I’m dating now loves it. The man I dated prior to him seemed to think that if I was sexual onstage, I was obligated to be sexual offstage. He didn’t understand the separation of the art from the artist. He’d say, 'Guys are going to expect you to give them blowjobs if you sing about it.' ”

McLean admits there was a period of time when, while online dating, she removed the “dirty bluegrass band” mention from her OK Cupid profile because suitors figured out who she was before meeting in person.

“I didn’t want them to know that about me upfront,” she says. “I have no problem singing about sex in front of a room full of people—or even the fucking Grammys, were we to ever play them—but it is very hard for me to sit down with a boyfriend and say, 'I like it when you do this and this.' ”

When I ask if she’s had stalkers, McLean replies, “None that were permanent. I have suspicions where someone might have a boner for us, but nothing where I feel threatened by it. That might be because I give off a hetero-queer vibe. I don't consider myself 'girly.' The back-ups are super feminine. I'm butchy. I wear pants and the big belt buckle. It's not a weak persona. That's not to say strong women don't have stalkers; I mean, Jody Foster!”

McLean laughs and reconsiders her previous statement. “I guess I don't know what stalkers are attracted to. The past three minutes of this answer was bullshit.”

But surely McLean must have her share of haters, yes?

“No. The reviews have been positive. We’re not out there in the way that burlesque dancers or…you are,” she says, referring to this writer’s former blog persona. “Courtney McClean is a character. That person is a part of me, but she’s more outspoken than I am.”

In fact, the only controversy associated with the Dirty Curls was in 2010, when McLean called out a comic on a rape joke.

“I’m difficult to offend, but the comic put himself in the place of the rapist. I was super mad.”

McLean made a comment on Facebook to the tune of, “Rape jokes aren’t funny. Find another way to be edgy,” not realizing it would incite a lengthy Facebook “flame war,” in which neither side seemed willing to back down.

“I get that comedy is subjective, but you don’t know who is in your audience,” McLean says.  “You don’t know the secret things, the small things, that can trigger trauma.”

When critics cried hypocrisy over a naughty-billy band getting their panties in a bunch about a rape joke, McLean responded “All the sex in our songs is consensual.”

Ultimately, McLean and the comic in question agreed to disagree. Whether or not the comic will continue to tell the joke is unclear.

“Cringe humor is big. People love that shit,” McLean says. But in a society in which 25% of women have reported being raped, “It was important for me to say something. We [the first incarnation of The Dirty Curls] fucked ourselves, but it caused conversation.”

Later, McLean experienced what she calls a form of “Stockholm syndrome” and wondered if it was the rape joke that irked her or the fact that the rape joke was bad. “It’s good for us to laugh at what causes us pain,” she concludes. “Maybe I just want rape jokes to be funny.”

As far as politics and the new brood of Dirty Curls is concerned, it wasn’t McLean’s intent to combine them. Then she got riled up about Virginia’s vaginal probe debate and a friend suggested she write a song.

“I said I would, as soon as I found the comedy in it. My friend said, 'Write an angry comedy song.' ”

So that’s what she did.  “Yes, Virginia, There is an Abortion Clause”  joins other cheeky titles in the Dirty Curls' new repertoire, which includes ditties like  “When Baby Becomes Legal”, a song about wanting to get it on with someone's son after he turns 18.

Whether or not McLean will make politics a regular feature on her multiple social media feeds is still TBD. McLean likes the idea of posting a topical issue weekly on her blog; if music can be incorporated into that, so be it.

Public and political bru-ha-ha aside, McLean’s harshest critic may very well be her own mother.

“She once said, 'What would your future husband or children think?' I was like, 'Huh?' ”

McLean told her mother, “They’re silly songs about sex. Settle down.”  Then she unfriended her on Facebook.

It sounds like a reasonable reaction…but what about the people McLean can’t unfriend? Doesn't she worry about repercussions from her so-called soiled reputation?

“If I ever wanted to get a corporate job, yeah, I’d be screwed, but I don’t want a corporate job. It might be self-sabotage on purpose. I was always the older, over-achiever, good kid. Maybe this is my rebellion.”

And that rebellion shall continue. Next up on the Dirty Curls’ schedule is The Twin Cities' Comedy Music Spectacular at Bryant Lake Bowl on April 7. Nicole Kerry, Andrea Leap, Jonah the Destroyer, and Valley Meadows will all perform.  “I've told them they can be as dirty as they want. I'll put a warning on it.”

The Dirty Curls will also appear at this year's Fringe festival and are in talks with Goonie's in Rochester for a two-show, one-night engagement in August.

“There's more comedy music than we think there is,” McLean says in closing.  “I think it's more accessible than stand-up comedy.  It's easier to make people laugh with a song.”




Tune into "Live From Studio 5!" on Wednesdays from 10 PM to Midnight on KFAI radio for more underappreciated local acts!

- Erica Rivera

Interview With The Farewell Circuit

If you missed the on-air broadcast of Erica Rivera's interview with The Farewell Circuit on Live From Studio 5! here's your second chance to hear the band's Q&A:

On Deck: The Hummingbirds and The Farewell Circuit

Tonight’s show features a live, in-studio performance from Hummingbirds, a local band that calls the Powderhorn neighborhood home.  Hummingbirds specializes in “harmony-filled feel-good flowing music.”  Incorporating ukulele, banjo, and guitar, this all-female trio plays a range of tunes from funky to folksy.

Hummingbirds members Lynn O'Brien, Kestrel Feiner-Homer, and Sarina Yospinrom have honed their sound everywhere from backyard parties to cafés, from front porches to the Fine Line.  Community is as essential to the group as good jams are.

Also on deck is Erica Rivera's interview with Danny O'Brien and DJ House of The Farewell Circuit. 

The indie musicians discuss everything from their African mission inspiration to the cinematic source of the band's name to dreams of making it to SXSW.

Tune into Live From Studio 5! tonight from 10 PM to Midnight on KFAI: 90.3 FM in Minneapolis, 106.7 in St. Paul, or stream online.

- Erica Rivera

Take Five: An Interview With ReadyGoes

Bryan Shackle, Tyler Jorenby, Patrick Gibbs, George Hadfield, and Mo are ReadyGoes, a rambunctious pop band of 20-somethings determined to get your booty moving on the dance floor.  I spoke to Bryan Shackle, the frontman of the quintent, in anticipation of the group’s EP release show at the Varsity Theater on Feb. 25.

Give me the spiel about how ReadyGoes got started.

Bryan Shackle:  It started four years ago, though we’d all played in different bands before that. Tyler and I were approached by a publishing company to work on some songs for TV shows.  We created a make-believe band and make-believe songs, but we ended up really liking them.  Half of the songs were used for the shows and we kept half.  We actually booked our first show at the Fine Line before we had enough band members to play the show.

And now you’re preparing to release a new EP, Like A Bomb.  What kind of sound and themes can fans expect to hear on it?

BS:  The sound is still us—dance pop—and it’s big.  We’re not apologetic about it or worried about what other people think.  It’s unlike anything else that the Twin Cities is making right now, which is a lot of chill, cool stuff.  These six new songs are monstrously big and sexy.  They are songs we feel good playing and we think fans will appreciate them and react well to them.

So your goal is to see the crowd dancing and going crazy during a show?

BS:  Going crazy—yes, that’s a reaction we want!  Hands in the air, anything.  The worst would be people or critics being neutral to our music.  I want them going crazy or hating it.  Some kind of reaction.

Talk about the band’s look.  Is it something that happens naturally or do you purposefully plan it?  Are you into fashion?

BS:  I wish we had the money to hire a stylist to plan it out.  For now, it’s natural.  I mean, before a photo shoot, we’ll say to one another, “Let’s not wear pink” or “Maybe iron your shirt” but that’s it.

And yet you went as zombies to Rock The Cause’s Phantasmagoria.  Not exactly heartthrob attire.

BS:  [Laughs.]  Of course we planned that.  It was so much fun. 

Photo by Mike Minehart

Has ReadyGoes played many shows for charity?

BS:  We haven’t and that’s because this album has been all-consuming for over two years.  We’ve been through the ringer with management and going between Nashville and L.A. and Minneapolis.  It’s not that we don’t want to play charity shows, it’s that it’s hard to play a ton of shows if you’re unsure about the songs.

But you did offer yourselves up for a bowling date for your Kickstarter campaign…

BS:  We’d been talking about what would be an interesting way to promote on Twitter and Mo, our guitar player, said, “Dude, let’s go bowling!”  We did a contest based on re-tweets.  A girl won and that’s coming up, so we’ll see how that goes…

In ten years, do you anticipate ReadyGoes will still be making the same kind of music or do you think it will morph into something else?

BS:  It’s always going to morph or we’d get super bored.  We’ll still be making music together in five years, ten years, but it will change.  ReadyGoes has already changed.  At first, Tyler and I were the ones doing the songwriting.  The rest of the guys help with the writing now; there are multiple hands involved.  George had a heavy hand in the six songs on the EP, and there’s hip-hop in his background, so that's a new influence.

Who would be your dream band to open for?

BS:  To open for?  I don’t know.  Who sounds like us?  Who do you think?

I wouldn’t want to insult you.

BS:  It’s okay.  I know we play chick pop. 

It’d probably someone you’d hear on KDWB.

BS:  I don’t know what they play on KDWB well enough to even name anyone.  The bands we like don’t sound like us.  I don’t think Ryan Adams would have us on.  Butch Walker…Fun…any band that has cool dudes or girls that would hang with us onstage and off.

Are there any legal substances that you guys rely on to get riled up before a show?

BS:  We’re whiskey men.  There’s usually a bottle of Jack Daniels or Jim Beam in the back.  Aside from that, it’d be jumping around, battle rapping, or wrestling tigers.

Tune into "Live From Studio 5!" on Wednesdays from 10 PM to Midnight on KFAI for more great music from up-and-comers on the Twin Cities scene!

- Erica Rivera

Take Five: An Interview With Dave Simonett

Dead Man Winter, a local outfit fronted by Dave Simonett of Trampled by Turtles, is a quaint and quirky combination of bluegrass, rock, roots, and Americana sounds.  DMW’s debut album, Bright Lights, was released in 2011 and is packed with gritty, addictive tunes like “Nicotine” (Oh, the outside is shaking/Oh, the insides are breaking/And we drink to fall apart/But we are all fucked from the start). 

DMW, while relatively new on the scene, is quickly gaining cred with the in-crowd, as evidenced by their much-lauded performance at The Current’s 7th birthday party last weekend. 

I spoke to Simonett on an unusually balmy afternoon in what should have been the dead of winter.

My first question is one you’ve probably answered several times before: where did the name Dead Man Winter come from?

Dave Simonett:  I haven’t answered it before because I don’t have an answer.  It just popped into my head.  It’s probably from years of freezing in Duluth.

I figured it had something to do with the Minnesotan obsession with weather.

DS:  It probably did, but it was not conscious.                                             

Is Dead Man Winter a continuation of, or a departure from, the music you were making with Trampled By Turtles?

DS:  A little of both.  I hesitate to say it’s a departure because it’s not so different from Trampled By Turtles, but it's not hip-hop either.  It’s a continuation as far as song writing goes.  If it’s a departure, it would be of instrumentation.  Trampled By Turtles is string instruments and Dead Man Winter is electric guitar and amp.

For those who aren’t familiar with Duluth and its music scene, how does it compare to the scene in the Twin Cities?

DS:  I lived in Duluth for eight years and now I live in Minneapolis.  There are more similarities than differences, though one difference is the size.  Minneapolis has a wealth of musicians.  The Duluth scene is smaller, but both have an open-mindedness about them as far as genre goes.  You don’t find someone here or there who only goes out to see one kind of band.  That’s in part because of you guys at KFAI, The Current, and Radio K.  There are so many different styles of music being played and accepted.  What’s also similar is the support between the musicians and with the media.  It’s inclusive; it’s not clique-y, at least, not in my experience.

Outside of Minnesota, where have you felt most accepted?

DS:  That depends on what we’re talking about.  Dead Man Winter hasn’t really gone anywhere.  We went to Colorado and Alaska and that’s it.  [Laughs.]  It went over pretty well, though.  With Trampled By Turtles, it was a lot easier, early on, in the Western states.  Now we go to great places everywhere.  I think we focus energy where we connect.  We connected with Colorado early on and we kept going back, so we didn’t make it out to the East Coast right away.

Who are you excited to hear more from on the local scene?

DS:  I’m really digging Caroline Smith and the Goodnight Sleeps.  We also just played The Current’s birthday party with Night Moves and I’d like to hear more from them.

When you’re not making music, what do you do to entertain yourself?

DS: [Laughs.]  That’s a good question.  What do I do for fun?  I try to keep my one-year-old daughter from hurting herself.

Your next opportunity to be blown over by Dead Man Winter is on Feb. 23 at the Cedar Cultural Center when the band takes part in the Real Phonic Radio Hour with Randy Weeks.  Trampled By Turtles' next gig is April 11 at First Ave--but it's already sold out!

- Erica Rivera

Tune into "Live From Studio 5!" on Wednesdays from 10 PM to Midnight on KFAI radio.