Silversun Pickups are on fire.

The L.A.-based indie rock band is enjoying headliner status after “paying dues” touring in the opening slot forthe likes of Muse and Foo Fighters (not exactly heinous dues-paying). The band’s summer tour is a big venue, big step up the group. They have been touring the US since June with opening acts Against Me! and The Henry Clay People.

“The tour has been a lot of fun and really hot,” says keyboardist Joe Lester. “It was really warm in Jersey today. It was like a jillion fuckin’ degrees in D.C. yesterday. It’s a good thing the bands we’ve played with have been really fun and really cool.”

In addition to adjusting to the lead-melting heat Lester and the band have also been adjusting to a new sort of venue.  

“The venues have been a trip,” he says.  “We’re more used to festivals, but these big venues are good since they allow us more production than past performances, as well as more control over the aesthetics.”

 The bigger venues and more high-tech shows are appropriate for the growing band. However, the group is staying true to their small-time origins.

“I always prefer to see bands in smaller venues; I’m personally not a fan of arenas,” states Lester. “It’s also more fun to play in smaller venues because we get to interact more with the audience and the crowd is usually livelier. The places we’ve played at on our tour are the exact size we need; bands should play in places that are a good enough size for playing proper shows while making sure their crowds are not out in the dark.”and hm well ask him about touring and what's it like. and ask him about their inspiration and maybe the stresses of band-life as well as the perks

Formed in 2002 in Silver Lake, Silversun Pickups is fronted by Brian Aubert, the bands lead singer, guitarist, and primary lyricist. Aubert is known for his distinct “nasally” voice, which has a desperately frantic, fragile presence. Aubert’s voice is countered by the soft backing vocals of bassist Nikki Monninger. The group is completed by drummer Christopher Guanlao and Lester, who help create the urgent but delicate soundscapes that made the band famous.

 The summer tour is just one sign of the group’s recent launch to stardom. They were also nominated for Best New Artist at the 52nd annual Grammy awards earlier this year. They were nominated alongside acts such as MGMT, Keri Hilson, The Ting Tings, and winners the Zac Brown Band.

“Wow, yeah the Grammys was a total mind-fuck,” Lester exclaims. “That wasn’t even on our radar, we were like ‘what the fuck are we doing here!’”

How did the band wind up where they are today? What was it that separated them from the great, unwashed mass of bands out there searching for a big break? What wisdom does Lester have for that great unwashed mass? If anything, he suggests they not emulate Silversun Pickups.

“If someone was writing a book on how to make a living being a band, (laughing) they should never use our example. God, it was terrible to do what we did,” says Lester. “We had no merchandise and we did no promotion; we just didn’t think that way. We would just play at any show and any opportunity given to us.”

Reconsidering, Lester decides that the band’s methodology may have actually been “the best way to get your name out,” yet not the best way to fund your band.

“We had no fuckin’ idea what we were doing business-wise. When we were first starting out, we were trying to figure out who we are, what we’re doing, and what it is we like,” he says. “We didn’t even think about putting out records until we did this show at Club Spaceland in LA. It was this local club in our neighborhood of Silver Lake, and we listened to these bootleg copies of our show. It was then that we decided we should record something because these tapes sounded terrible. This led to our first recording, which was for our own benefit so we could see how the recording process works. Eventually, our friend expressed interest in signing us to his label and we were convinced.”

A major factor to the group’s success was the internet, which, unsurprisingly, has been a big part of the band’s upward trajectory according to Lester.

“It’s really useful. We used MySpace, rest in peace (laughs), but it’s so much easier for small bands today; the internet is incredibly powerful,” says Lester. “You don’t need major labels anymore; bands get discovered all the time. The best part is that you don’t need to do anything special to harness the power of internet!”

Lester says that another important role in the band’s success was living in their Silver Lake neighborhood, which “worked on a practical level” when the band was first starting out.

“The neighborhood has since changed. Originally, living there was cheap, so practice space came cheap. We didn’t have to constantly make money to get by, and this definitely affected our ability to become a band, a community,” says Lester. “In Silver Lake, there are two great venues that take chances on new bands. This is essential to any band’s progression, playing live and focusing on what you want to do. We were lucky to be where we were; San Francisco is crazy according to our friends who play out there.”

 

Silversun Pickups follow a distinctive process when creating music and have experimented with their sound from album to album.

“On our debut EP, Pikul, we included songs from our first demo session plus two new songs, which we remixed to make the tracks sound like they made sense together,” explains Lester.

Two years later, the group released their first full length album, 2007’s Carnavas, which gained Silversun Pickups a following outside LA.

“We actually wrote half of the songs just for that record, and this was the first instance we spent time creating the songs in a studio. We took all the songs and recreated them so that we could come up with overarching mood for the whole album,” says Lester. “We took out the acoustic elements found in Pikul to make our new album colder in feeling. We found ourselves just taking songs and mucking with them until we liked them. The original version of [the band’s breakout single], Lazy Eye, was actually 13 min long, and it was much slower.”

Swoon was the first release by the group where all the tracks were original and written to fit an overarching theme.

“We started making Swoon immediately after a two-and-a-half year tour. We started from scratch,” says Lester. “This was a new thing for us, to shape our album while writing it. The first four songs on the album were written in the order they appear in, and then we came up with 17 or 18 possible songs to include. We whittled down the songs based and if they made sense in context with the album. Songs can be a fucking nightmare to make, but for Swoon it was all written at same time, so this is our most cohesive album.”

Though Aubert is the primary lyricist, the group writes their music together. And the music is written first.

“Brian…writes all the lyrics usually right before we’re ready to record. We write the music first in the sense that there was a lot of strife with our relationships due to the two-and-a-half year tour,” he says.” On tour you live in this bubble, and so our estrangement from our relationships made life stressful. So [Swoon] for us was cathartic; it sorted out tenseness we were all feeling. The angrier and sadder moments on the album definitely reflect the lives of everyone in the band at that time.”

Lester then shares an interesting fact about the hit single, Panic Switch. It almost never was.

“[It] was the last song created. Brian actually came up with it after we decided to stop, after we decided we had enough material. But it came together real fast, this song.”

 This afterthought, which was almost left off the album, would become the group’s first number one song on Billboard's Hot Modern Rock Songs chart, as well as the first song by an independent artist to reach this spot in 11 years.

The keyboardist adds that their hometown aids them with musical inspiration as well. Los Angeles serves as a huge presence in the music and process of the Silversun Pickups; it is where all their music has been written and recorded.

“I’d guess that if we lived somewhere else it would unconsciously change our mindset,” says Lester. “The area also had a lot of other bands and creative people, and it helps to be surrounded by such an environment.”

As for his own writing technique, Lester is something  of a homebody.

“…personally like to be at home. We just don’t write on road. I’m jealous of those who do that, those who are able to write road songs,” he says. “Being able to do that would be good since the best music is always written on the road. It’s ironic that we as a group find inspiration in the mundane; home life is where we are most creative.”

When asked if there were any downsides to working in their field, Lester is unequivocal.

“No not really. I mean, we make our living making music, so we’re really lucky. It’d be wrong to complain and sound like douchebag. Sure, we’re away from home a lot, but a lot of other jobs are like that,” says Lester. “You get better at maintaining your relationships long-distanced the more you [go on tour]. We make music for a living, there’s nothing to complain about.”

Lester then says that the group doesn’t even let the steel-faced, sometimes harsh comments from critics infringe on the creative process.

“Reviews are reviews; that’s just a part of it all. We don’t really read them, but we know people always make comparisons,” he states. “It’s understandable; they have to give a frame of reference to the reader. The comparisons are funny; it’s interesting to hear what people hear in our records.”

Silversun Pickups' sound has frequently been  comparted to various indie-rockers of the 1990s.

“We get compared to Smashing Pumpkins a lot, which is fine by me. Their first two records are amazing, and those are the ones people always compare us to. Fuck, we were just surprised to be compared to real band!” he says. “As for weird comparisons, I’m sure there has been a couple. There was one made during the original incarnation of the band, which consisted of Brian and Nikki and their significant others. This group was referred to as ‘the Fleetwood Mac of alt rock’ (laughs). It’s always interesting to hear what others hear in our music, so if someone hears, say, Public Enemy, then so be it.”

Lester gives a word of warning to bands aspiring to be critical darlings—“You can’t try to write music for reviewers; life would be stressful all the time.”

The band also embrases more than just the comparisons to the music of past decades. They even year for the days of analog.

“Oh yeah, I feel everyone in Silversun Pickups would say their favorite way of listening to music is with vinyl. It just sounds so much better, and it’s really making a comeback. I personally think digitization creates this longing for older formats of music,” he continues. “I’m this way with keyboards; I really miss those old analog keyboards. One thing about vinyl is that the artwork of an LP is so much more appealing, you feel like the record has an actual presence instead of staring at a meaningless screen of ones and zeroes. Vinyl is glorious; I’m a total sucker for records.”

Does Lester ever listen to the band's music? “I don't listen to radio much, so, no (laughs). I only ever listen to our songs after we finish rehearsing, just to figure out how we can orchestrate a live performance of a track. Live adaptations definitely require planning unless you have backing tracks, which is totally lame.” he says.

Silversun Pickups are on tour now, as they have been for ages You can find out tour dates and more at the band website.

Mohsen Namjoo has come a long way both figuratively and literally to play his music in the United States, Namjoo, an Iranian popular musician, songwriter and singer, made his first foray into performing in the United States with his show on June 20 in Los Angeles at the Walt Disney Concert Hall. Following this he will begin reaching out to a broader U.S. audience: an audience with little or no connection to Iranian music and culture.

Namjoo became an underground hit in his homeland and, last year, was the only musical artist to perform at the Venice Film Festival. Unsurprisingly the connections between different area of art and performance seem to be common.

Namjoo was trained, from the time he was a child, in traditional Persian music. In this context he earned an apprenticeship with masters of this music in the Northeast of Iran. Later he attended Tehran University's music program and studied more classical music. Over time, Namjoo ran into resistance both from the musical community and from restrictions imposed on artists by the Islamic Government. But he did what artists in many nations and in many times have done;  Namjoo moved underground and fit into that scene in Iran and wound up gaining an audience both in Iran and abroad. He, himself, didn't realize how "successful" he was until he would hear taxis playing bootleg copies of his music (all the while he was in fiscal dire straits). In this he bears a striking resemblance to Boris Grebenshikov whose career was curtailed in the former Soviet Union (both have also been compared to an American songwriter who shall remain nameless lest the comparison jinx Namjoo).

Namjoo's background in traditional music on the one hand, led to a musical flexibility and on the other an orthodoxy that chaffed his creativity. Often musicians with such a background, in classical or traditional music, in any nation or culture, have a hard time bucking established norms. It is something that can drive alternative-minded musicians from the ranks of classical and jazz players in the West.

"It is important to differentiate between classical and traditional music. The reason I engaged with Traditional music was because I understood that it is in fact very flexible and organic. My problem was with the people who engaged with Traditional music as they would with classical music, with a rigid and inflexible. In my country Iran, the musicians who specialized with Traditional music, believed that the scales and structure of Traditional music is not subject to change and evolution. This resulted in a stagnant body of work over many years that gradually disenfranchised their audience," he says. "But the basis of my education during my formative years was the same school of traditional music. I was not educated in the western music and my instrument was the Setar, not the Guitar. Albeit, I tried from the very outset to expand the horizons of Traditional music, not out of resentment but deep passion for traditional music. To give an example, Iranian Traditional music is like an ocean full of pearls at its depth. I found that traditional musicians in general, were not capable divers and pearl hunters."

When it comes to the plight of artists in Iran and the various restrictions placed on them Namjoo does care to answer simply or even feel  a concise answer possible.

"The answer to this question is very elaborate and I cannot provide a short and concise reply which will do justice to the essence of the problems facing artists in Iran." says Namjoo.

He is working on a paper that will, at some point, be released as a book through Stanford University. The book will focus on the history of Iranian music after the 1979 revolution. It should be ready by the end of the year. Namjoo has not returned to Iran since 2008 but he keeps in touch with friends and stays informed. He describes his homeland as a vibrant and ever changing society, always in flux. There is more below the surface than what we see on the news or the internet. 

The reason Namjoo left Iran was less about oppression and more about a desire to continue his musical education, which, given his broad interests, would have been impossible in Iran. Music is, however, much more than technique and learning to Namjoo.

"I can say that after many years of learning technique and attention to detail in music, I understood that ultimately, it is the emotional connection that communicates with the listener not the technique," says Namjoo. "Many might be impressed by the technique of a musician in a jazz club but ultimately what remains with human beings is not the technique but the emotional charge conveyed by the musicians’ interpretation."

And the musicians who influenced him? Those whose emotional charge conveyed something to him? 

"I recall influences from very traditional masters who lived anonymously in a small village in Iran to someone like Mark Knopfler or Muddy Waters," he says. “The amazing similarity between their music, not just from a conceptual or cultural standpoint but from a musical standpoint.  It is those similarities that fascinated me and motivated me to try and discover these musical similarities."

Not many people have the background to pick out similarities between traditional Persian music, American blues and English pop. Asking about influences is a tired line of questioning but when the artist comes from a small town in Iran and he speaks of Muddy Waters it is worth noting. Yet Namjoo's work is not some flaccid attempt at "World Music" either. 

"What I am trying to get at essentially is to blend and intertwine musical traditions.  World music is to arrange side by side, musical instruments from various parts of the world with less attention to the musical blending and relationships," says Namjoo. “I therefore cannot subscribe to the world music model.  I am less interested in the musical harmonizing of instruments from various parts of the world as I am in finding the emotional and musical relationship between various countries in the world."

Namjoo also has a background in theater and film, in part because making the sort of music he wanted to make in his homeland was impractical.

"Film music and theatre was my main occupation during my years in Iran, given the limitations and economic impracticality of making records under those circumstances.  The music for A Few Kilos of Dates for a Funeral was a suggestion by my roommates who were making that film but I only acted in that film and did not find the opportunity to make the music for it, he says. “Since leaving Iran I have done more film music namely a recent work called neighbor by a young director, Naghmeh Shirkhan that will be released soon.  I look forward to continuing my work in film and am currently working on a few proposals that are in development."

His most recent musical work, Oy, is available now.

"Oy was produced as a result of a combination of factors. It was my first album produced since I left Iran and in a way, it was a nostalgic experience for me. Oy was also the beginning of a collaborative engagement with an Iranian-Canadian filmmaker who is also a dear friend of mine," says Namjoo. “After a chance meeting with Babak Payami while he was the Creative Director of Fabrica Media, (the communication arts research centre of the United Colors of Benetton group), he agreed to produce a series of albums and concerts of my work. Oy was produced under the auspices of Fabrica. The experience was very pleasant and Mr. Payami and I decided to continue our collaboration for future works under the auspices of Payam Entertainment Inc.”

Namjoo doesn't yet know what his reception in the USA will be like overall--hard to tell after one show. He plans to keep busy here and elsewhere.

“I have a large body of unpublished work from my years in Iran that I will be recording over the next few years," he says. "Some of them will be experimental while others are albums of collections with various musical and lyrical themes.”

Look for this music, and Oy at the Mohsen Namjoo website. And keep an eye out for tour dates.

New Orleans’ Caddywhompus put  a new spin on the Crescent City’s musical tradition, a psychedelic pop spin. The band is a duo comprised of guitarist/vocalist Chris Rehm and drummer Sean Hart. This is one group everyone with a taste for underground, experimental pop should get to know.

Rehm and Hart formed Caddywhompus in 2008 following the split of their prior band, Houston outfit, Riff Tiffs. The two have known each other since kindergartenand have played together since middle school.

Since then, the duo have been busy building a strong fan base in the indie music scene. They are out on their 2010 summer tour promoting their sophomore album, Remainder, released May 11. Remainder follows their first album, EPs, a compilation of Caddywhompus’ first EP, four songs from a prior split cassette and two unreleased tracks. This tour started on the West Coast before heading East. Hart says the tour has been a blast, though the group has had the standard brushes with strangeness that come with every tour.

He recalled one odd instance in Orem, Utah.

“We went to this venue it was called ‘The Kage’ with a K and we were supposed to play with these 6 local bands, but then the owner canceled the performance when he supposedly received noise complaints from the cops,” said Hart. “Though, we found out later that this never happened! The venue itself was strange. We were in what looked like a preschool classroom. There were Shrek posters everywhere.”

Sean Hart recounted the group’s experience touring and playing with other bands, including critically acclaimed group The Antlers.

“Playing with The Antlers was cool. I didn’t know too much about them before we met, but Chris owned a copy of their first album [In the Attic of the Universe].” says Hart.

The Antlers jammed with Caddywhompus at the Saturn Bar in New Orleans, the location for the band’s CD release party for EPs.

“The Antlers were super nice and fun to hang out with,” continued Hart, “and the performance worked both ways.”

Hart explained that playing with The Antlers helped to promote EPs, and playing in New Orleans certainly helped the Brooklyn-based Antlers spread their fan base to the untapped South.

Hart also said he enjoyed playing a short tour with Lafayette-based outfit Givers.

“That was really fun.They  had their own trailer and a tour van, so it was a nice change to not have to drive to our gigs! We ended up playing a sold out show at Emo’s in Austin; that was great.” he says.

 

Additionally, Caddywhompus released their first professionally produced music video. The group collaborated with the independent, Texas-based Neko Neko Films to make a video for the song Guilt. The video captures the band’s eclectic style and sound with jarring camera work, rapid transitions and hazy visuals. Hart noted the interesting experience the group had with Neko Neko.

“It was really random. They just showed up one day at our place in New Orleans, and for the video they had us play Guilt four times while they recorded in our practice room where we recorded all of Remainder.” says Hart.

Caddywhompus’ first music video was for their song Absinthesizer. Hart explained a friend made it in the library at Loyola University New Orleans, where the band attends college.

When it comes to balancing college life and band life, Hart says that school can wind up taking second place.

“Sometimes, college has to be put on the back burner. Sometimes, we don’t even want to go to class," he says. "Luckily, we attend a music school, so we’re always excused when we have a gig to worry about. We make it work. We don’t do too many shows during the school year, maybe one a month."

The group has really shown their 21st century DIY work ethic with an assortment of online profiles. Rehm updates a Facebook page and a blog while Hart maintains a band MySpace profile. Hart attributed Caddywhompus’ level of success to the word-of-mouth publicity that occurs on the blogosphere, where fans and curious music-listeners can enjoy their uploaded songs. Indeed their whole current record is available free at the Community Records website.

Unlike their debut album EPs, whose 300 copies were produced entirely by the band itself and sold through PayPal.  Remainder, as mentioned, is promoted and distributed by Community Records. 

The name “Caddywhompus” comes from southern slang meaning “crooked, or uneven.” According to Hart, he and Rehm used to hear their friend’s grandmother use the term. “Caddywhompus” was originally the name of a high school band Hart and Rehm started.  The name fell out of use but somehow seems appropriate for their experimental, “crooked” rock sound.

Keep an eye for the band on tour, download the new recording (it won't cost you a thing) and spread the word about the cacophonous, DIY, psychedelic sound of Caddywhompus.

Frazer Bradshaw doesn’t want you to just his watch movies. He wants your participation. Not in the Rocky Horror sense. He doesn’t want you to dress up like Tim Curry and prance about (although we doubt he would seriously object should an overwhelming urge to do so take you).He actually wants you to exercise your mind.

Bradshaw is a director and cinematographer. He has been cinematographer on 35 films and directed/editor five more (three of which he also wrote). His most recent film, Everything Strange and New is a narrative drama that uses both voice-over and music in innovative ways.

“Actually the music was part of the genesis of the film. The shot of the back of the character’s head looking out with cacophonous music is the visual moment that drives the rest of the film.” says Bradshaw.

The music, by Dan Plonsey and Kent Sparling, is a cacophony that stands in direct opposition to the sedate visual imagery. This disconnect is by design and, indeed, is part of Bradshaw’s philosophy of film.

“Music and voice over are things radically misused in films. To me music has to not support the film but offer something new.” he says.

The image and music in that first shot creates something you would not get with just the shot or the music alone. The feeling is expanded by the music. It means something more and something different because of the music. In Bradshaw’s film, and probably in every other film, music can change the relationship between people and landscape. And it does so profoundly.

“Music can change that relationship in a chemical way.” says Bradshaw

Bradshaw uses voice over in a way that is out of the ordinary as well.

“The voice over works much like the music. You never see a character when you hear the voice over. To me, that is the worst thing you can do. If you are seeing someone thinking it becomes false” says Bradshaw. “The voice over is never about what you are looking at.”

Like music he juxtaposes two things do not inherently have a relationship. It expands the movies ‘meaning palette’ he says and allows more interpretation by the audience. And that is a key to this film.

Bradshaw says that with studio films there is nothing between the lines. They are something you can watch and keep your distance. This is not criticism but an observation (Bradshaw often works as a cinematographer on studio films). Bradshaw wants his films to be a mirror for the audience. A mirror forcing them to be almost a part of the movie

“If I have one goal as a filmmaker it is to open things up to interpretation.” he says.

Whenever he has the opportunity to add or change part of the film the same thought comes to him; “I think about what are the implications for broadening or contracting of the film around the shot.” he says.

His films mean what they mean to you, to me, to anyone who watches, as much as they mean what Bradshaw was thinking while shooting. Indeed, this one thing is ever present in his mind is how to expand possible interpretation rather than restrict it.

If you want to see Everything Strange and New you may have to wait until a DVD release. Its theatrical run has been intermittent.

“It is not in any theaters, or it may or may not be but it is still, in theory, playing theatrically,” says Bradshaw; he then adds a tad of self criticism. “I made a mistake. I made a film about people who do not go to movies. People want to see movies about themselves which is a sad state of affairs.”

You may notice there hasn’t been much plot summary. There is a plot. The film is a “slice of life” about a working man, with two kids and a mortgage working to get by. But it is as much about the audience’s reaction to the life he and his friends lead. It is as much about the somnambulistic way he moves through his life and word and how the good blends with the bad.

The film is also not about what it is about (if that makes sense). And sometimes, we, the audience, like to be told how to feel and know, with certainty what the meaning of a film is. We are not used to being challenged. This film’s aim, and Bradshaw's, is a bit more esoteric.

“It is about the effect of watching the film. It is hard to talk about film as experience rather than a movie,” he says. “I need people to relate to the film in a way they would not normally relate to a movie. Ultimately it is not to tell a story but to give a visceral and emotional experience.”

The film was also shot on Super 16 and feels almost like a series of photographs. The “action” taking place as much in the character’s minds as in the physical action itself. This disembodiment of the characters likely comes from Bradshaw’s background. As a youngster he never thought about becoming a filmmaker. Bradshaw went to art school and became interested in film because he liked reflected light.

“I wasn’t one of those guys who saw Star Wars and wanted to make movies. I wasn’t interested in making films until college.” he says.

Unsurprisingly he wasn’t initially interested in narrative films but rather experimental ones.

“Generally I like to answer my biggest influences are directors I work for as a cinematographer.” says Bradshaw.

When the subject of influences arises he initially talks about various European directors such as Tarkovsky and Bergman. But his real influences come from his job as a cinematographer.

“Generally I like to answer my biggest influences are directors I work for as a cinematographer.” says Bradshaw.

He gets to see these directors succeed and fail, sometimes on a grand scale. They make his mistakes for him. Most directors do not have the benefit of such experience. Bradshaw learns what he doesn’t want to do as much as what he does.

“There is inherent risk in making a good film.” he says.

But he gets to take risks that are “less risky” because he has witnessed other directors making similar decisions.

As to what is next Bradshaw is writing something and is working on what he refers to as a “straight forward documentary project”.

Bradshaw was also cinematographer on the film, Babies. Whenever this film is mentioned to the cynical film snob they think it is about Anne Gedde. It is, in fact, more like a BBC nature film. He is also credited with being an “additional photographer” on the documentary about Townes Van Zant, Be Here to Love Me. He says (and makes a compelling case) that a “director of photography” credit would have been more appropriate. There was a break in filming and after that, there was a new director of photography.

“I made $93 a day as a favor to Margaret (Brown),” he says. “After six weeks we ran out of money. I went home. Margaret started dating Lee Daniel and when they started shooting again. Well, you can’t beat free boyfriend labor.”

And if you are into innovative, thoughtful filmmaking you cannot beat Everything Strange and New.

Recently I told a PR person that I wanted to write about artists who were doing something outside their norm, outside their comfort zone: musicians who painted, painters who wrote poetry or drummers who did anything beyond hitting things with sticks (sorry, it is hard for me to resist a drummer joke). The discussion I had with Australian songwriter and musician, Savannah Jo Lack, may seem to be off this path but I assure you it is not.

Ms. Jo Lack is a violinist with classical training who has opted to move from that rarified world, off that musical Mount Olympus, down amongst the great unwashed mass of singer songwriters (and in some cases I really mean that literally). How does this transition take place? And how also do you decide to use the violin as the basis for your new pop music direction.

“You move to Tasmania, this tiny island and you sit in the freezing cold and want to work on an album but you don’t play guitar and wish you had taken those piano lessons with grandma,” says Jo Lack. “ It was a natural thing. I had some guitar skills but not enough. Necessity is the mother of invention.

A variety of musicians have told me the same thing over the years; when you are at your best is when you are challenged. Too many “want-to-be” musicians wait for the “perfect situation” to create something. Jo Lack confirms that you can find that situation freezing your butt off in Tasmania with only your violin to play.

She basically used the violin as her rhythm instrument and tried to come up with a sound that is hers. She sings while she plays, which is not totally unique, but is not common in pop music either.

“I start  with a rhythm and then I make it come to life on the violin.” she says.

Jo Lack came to the USA three years ago and toured for a year, settling in the San Francisco Bay area two years ago. She has toured up and down the West Coast. Mostly these tours have been with other songwriters and multi instrumentalists.

With her classical background, and classical music is by definition more sonically broad than popular music, I wanted to know if she thought about how her music would sound on iPod earbuds. The answer was a solid “sort of.”

“If not when I am recording then definitely in the mastering process. My background is classical and I still don’t understand compression, stuff at the end of the process never made sense to me.” she says.

It doesn’t make sense to anyone really but that is what sound engineers are for! In any case songwriters , good ones anyway, cannot spend too much time worrying about whether listeners understand the sonic limitations of earbuds in listening to music.

“I am always starting from an emotional stadpint and trying to stay true to my thoughts,” says Jo Lack. “ I am not making commercial records but records I can stand behind on any level.”

She says she would love to do a vinyl release but that wasn’t possible on the new record.

When the subject of “classical” music comes up Jo Lack says that she never really delineated between that and other music. It was all music to her.  After deciding she didn’t want to be in an orchestra she assessed her options as a musician: touring with a band or  freelancing were the most likely options. Neither was wholly appealing but she wound up doing the latter. It was here she had toe opportunity to listen to other songwriters and find her own voice.

But why was it she decided she didn’t see herself in an orchestra as a career?

Once, while playing with an orchestra, she walked off stage only to be met by the orchestra manager who gave her a dressing down. Had she played poorly or missed her spots? No, she was being admonished for having the wrong sort of stockings on. She had given everything and then is told off because of her socks. I would have slapped the guy upside his head myself but Jo Lack is a more understanding sort. She just decided to move on.

“That is how I started playing this weird stuff.” Says Jo Lack.

Jo Lack wants to use music that expands people’s perception. As noted, music is music to her, but what she produces and aims to produce in the future is a sound that has a character that moves relationships of people and landscapes. Music can be more than just sound in other words. Music can alter your perception of the world around. How people see the world is not fixed in the eyes of Jo Lack.

“Music can change that in a chemical way.” she says.

Savannah Jo Lack’s first solo record, Knitting Songs, comes out in August and dates are planned for the East and West Coasts. She may even hit some other select cities so keep your eyes open.

You can find out more at the Savannah Jo Lack Website.