2002

Shredding for the kids

Local band Psypheria breathes a little life into the old death-metal corpse

Psypheria, in a huddle. OK, lads, repeat after me: <i>Ph’nglui mgwl’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn!</i>
Psypheria, in a huddle. OK, lads, repeat after me: Ph’nglui mgwl’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn!

Live! CD release party Friday, October 25, at On the Y, 670 Fulton Avenue, 21 and over, $8. With Pessimist and Abominous–The Final Godsend.

Death metal is a form of music characterized by guttural vocals, extreme guitar riffs and endless double-bass-drum workouts. “Psypheria” is a word that sounds cool but means nothing.

Psypheria is also a death-metal band.

But, unlike the countless talent-challenged others that somehow garnered record deals through mailroom connections, Psypheria has overcome the obstacles and proven itself worthy of not only local, but also national attention.

More importantly, Psypheria hasn’t succumbed to the three major death-metal pitfalls: It doesn’t have a band logo with multiple upside-down crosses and indecipherable letters; its members can play their instruments and write their own music; and its members are educated beyond the third grade and aren’t afraid to challenge themselves technically within the confines of their songs.

Formed in 1992 by guitarist and principal songwriter John Oster, Psypheria has recorded four demo tapes, a common format in the metal scene, and has had one formal release on the Mad Lion label. More recently, the band was signed by Portugal’s Heretic Sound, which just released the band’s new album, Embrace the Mutation, in the United States.

Of course, even death-metal bands can get their first inspiration from outside the death-metal community. However, it always comes back to metal in the end. “I started playing guitar when I heard some of Hendrix’s stuff, but the current inspiration for Psypheria is Morbid Angel,” said the seldom-enthusiastic Oster. “Their blend of darkness, emotion, brutality and technicality really speaks to me.” Oster also named releases from Myrkskog, Hate Eternal, Vile and the lesser-known German band Necrophagist as inspiring records worth a listen.

By day, Oster is a schoolteacher. In addition to teaching, he sometimes has hosted a “metal lunch hour,” where kids could hang out in his classroom and hear the latest Krisiun or Cannibal Corpse record. “[Psypheria] played last year at a 9/11 benefit concert held at school. The metal lunch hour was at my junior high. I now teach high school,” he said. “Many leave campus for lunch, but I might try to start it up at this school. I’m the advisor for the guitar club, which meets in my room on Friday at lunch. I bring my guitar and a practice amp and shred for the kids. They get a big kick out of it!”

Psypheria is Oster plus Cory Valdez on drums, Lyle Livingston on keyboards, Mike Hurley on guitar and Adam Roberts on bass and vocals. The band plays more dates out of town than in the Sacramento Valley. Because of a lack of local venues, Psypheria has been forced to gig around the Bay Area, even venturing as far as the Milwaukee Metalfest. The band has opened for numerous national acts, including Cradle of Filth, Mortician, and Malevolent Creation.

Recently, Psypheria opened for German thrash bands Kreator and Destruction in San Francisco. Not every show goes as smoothly as planned, and that one didn’t. “The crowd was great, and we played like demons possessed! The only downside was the poor treatment by Kreator’s tour people—a short set, which was further shortened when we used a fog machine,” an agitated Oster mused. “Apparently, the locals were not to use any effects whatsoever, including flashing stage lights.

“How insecure can those bands be?” he added. “Remind me not to buy any more Kreator [or] Destruction CDs!”

In addition to national exposure in metal zines and via tape-trading, Psypheria’s plans for 2002 are ever more grandiose, including a possible international tour. “We have been approached,” Oster said. “I can’t really divulge any details yet. However, it will also include France and hopefully some festivals.”

So, Psypheria’s year is shaping up to be its best ever. Its album-release party is this Friday night, with a short West Coast tour to follow. The festivities will mark the band’s 10th anniversary and the new release by one of Sacramento’s great talents. Enjoy.

(SN&R)

The Black Heart Procession

Live! Thursday, October 10 at Capitol Garage, 1427 L Street, with Pleaseeasur and Winifred E Eye. All ages. Call venue for time and admission.

For fans expecting another brooding, self-loathing affair, Amore del Tropico, with its nods to samba and calypso music, will be confusing. Although songs such as “The Invitation” and “Why I Stay” remind us that we have a darker, deeper core, those moments are few and far between. Thankfully, we’re left with an album of great emotional and spiritual relevance. Fusing piano with some excellent cello and string parts, Los Angeles’ Black Heart Procession mixes its song bag with a little cha-cha (“End of Love”) and pseudo-pop rumblings (“Did You Wonder”). Amore explores several genres without losing scope and focus; even such seldom-used instruments as the Optigan and saw make an appearance, however slight. Most acts falter when they attempt to mature and grow, but the Black Heart Procession still remembers that life is full of changes. And, like its music, the group must meet that challenge with open arms.

(SN&R)

The Flaming Lips

Wayne Coyne, Michael Ivins and Steven Drozd, the core of the Flaming Lips, have never been known to play conventional rock. Unlike The Soft Bulletin, the Lips’ previous album, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots has a more playful vibe, with obvious nods to children’s songs of yore. On “Do You Realize??” and a marvelous pair of title cuts, the Lips play with an amalgam of keyboard and samplers, giving a bouncy, lighthearted feeling. Although the songs don’t reach the dizzying heights found on The Soft Bulletin, moments like “Ego Tripping at the Gates of Hell” and “In the Morning of the Magicians” make this album quite special. Comparisons to Mercury Rev, whose Dave Fridmann produced and played on Yoshimi, and Grandaddy are inevitable, but Yoshimi has much more depth and character than the works of those bands. And Coyne’s uneven, warbly voice, coupled with Ivins’ and Drozd’s instrumentation, makes for one hell of a sonic parade.

(SN&R)

Pants on fire

Sometimes, for the sake of rock ’n’ roll, you’ve gotta immerse yourself in the sweat and the salty air to really feel the music. Air-conditioned venues with state-of-the-art sound systems are usually a bonus, but sometimes, for the sake of rock ’n’ roll, you’ve gotta smell the funk to really feel the funk.

A recent Saturday hoedown at the Colonial Theater—featuring headliner the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, along with those buzz bands du jour Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Liars—was more than just a sweaty affair. For the more than 250 people who showed up, church was in session, and the bands all had their individual revelations to sell. And, although temperatures inside the venue reached an almost unfathomable 90 degrees, ventilation and air quality weren’t a concern.

The pinnacle of the night’s festivities came during the brief 45-minute set by New York band Liars. Fusing the best elements of early Brainiac and Sonic Youth with the snotty, belligerent antics of Mark E. Smith’s the Fall—not to mention a frontman who resembles Gibby Haynes circa early Butthole Surfers and who channels the energy of New York’s post-punk noir—Liars, lit by only a few gels, ground through a gritty set of effective, well-executed bursts of sonic chaos.

Locals were treated to tracks from the band’s latest full-length, They Threw Us All in a Trench and Stuck a Monument on Top. On it, singer Angus Andrew and guitarist Aaron Hemphill help destroy conventional song structure with both analog and guitar feedback, abetted by the hypnotic backbeat rhythms of bassist Pat Noecker and drummer Ron Albertson. Although Hemphill spent most of the set with his back turned to the audience, you couldn’t help but respect his attention to his rhythm section and his ability to create massive walls of noise. Even frontman Angus seemed focused more on the walls of the theater than those cramming the front of the stage.

For a brief moment, it seemed as if we were invited into one of their own East Coast warehouse parties (which the band prefers over the less personable club setting), only the beer was available at the bar next door. You can forgive the sweltering temperatures on nights like these. After all, bands of this ilk don’t come along too often.

Liars make music that may never cross over into the mainstream. And, although the band members will never date Drew Barrymore or write trite Christmas songs for their adoring fan base, these four lads can wake up each morning and look at their battered, road-worn faces and know they mean something to a few people in each town they visit.

(SN&R)

Mike Johnson

Although Mike Johnson’s CV includes time with Dinosaur Jr., you’d never guess his background after listening to the opening track, the haunting yet lovely “Arise.” Surrounding his lovely, deep baritone voice is a capable band, featuring members of Duster and Built to Spill, which intuits the inherent vibe of his music. Johnson’s mates, particularly bassist Jim Roth and drummer Jason Albertini, show considerable patience and depth, as evidenced on such tracks as “Names” and “Hidden Away.” This, Johnson’s latest, stacks up well against Lambchop’s or even early Tindersticks’ works; it exudes a warmth unlike any of his earlier recordings. Fans of Swans’ Michael Gira or even the depressing Calla will enjoy Johnson’s drone. Like digging into his personal belongings, What Would You Do is as much a telling biography as it is a lasting listening experience. Introspection for misguided youth? You bet.

(SN&R)

Def Leppard

X

It’s hard to believe Joe Elliott and company have been together almost 25 years. It’s even more incredible to imagine that the band that wrote the legendary Pyromania and On Through the Night albums would end up scarring its career even further—remember “Pour Some Sugar on Me”?—using Max Martin, Andreas Carlsson and Per Aldeheim, the same pop machine writers used by boy bands. One listen to the Martin-penned “Unbelievable” will have diehard fans reaching for the stop button. Like countless bands of its ilk, Def Leppard once ruled the roost, along with four on the floor-style rockers like AC/DC. The band claims it doesn’t need the money, it’s just got some “great songs” it wants to share. I’ve heard none on X, its tenth and most tepid “rocker” to date. The boys claim they don’t want to be considered another heavy metal band. From the sound of this, those comparisons shouldn’t be an issue.

(SN&R)

Die Trying is fixing to get ready to rock

   

Few Sacramento bands could headline a weeknight show and draw more than 50 people. While attendance isn’t always the best indicator of “good” music, in the case of the 150-plus people who showed up last month to see Die Trying at the Boardwalk in Orangevale, it was.

From the opening chords of “Die Trying” to the drum intro leading into “Lo Pan,” it was evident that singer Jassen and company weren’t about to go out quietly. Guitarist Jack Sinamian and bassist Steve Avery held down a mean groove while drummer Matt pounded the skins like a crazed psychopath. With Jassen’s cocky but confident stage demeanor and his raspy yet alluring voice up front, the band hit its stride by their second song and never looked back

During such numbers as “Never Good Enough” or the aptly titled “F*ck You,” the crowd drowned out Jassen’s amplified voice. Even Die Trying’s newest song, “Salvation,” which made its live debut during the band’s opening set for Papa Roach at the Sacramento Memorial Auditorium in June, sounded like a hit and received an alarmingly positive response.

Although not yet an icon or teen idol, Jassen’s onstage persona echoed that of many rock greats; he proved he can deliver the goods. He moved about the Boardwalk’s stage constantly nestling his feet and crouching over the floor monitors in perfect Ian Astbury form. While not exactly as defined as Appetite-era Guns N’ Roses or as perfected as the Cult’s early years, it’s evident that he’s got something going on.

In attendance were the usual suspects, from such local bands as Still Life ProjectorLong Drive Home and 26 Weeks, along with 98 Rock’s Alex Payne. It was the fans ranging from 16-30, however, that made the night so special: It was as if they were never going to see the band again. Unfortunately, that notion was partially true.

Never one to forget his paying customers, Jassen continually thanked those for venturing out on a weeknight.

Since Die Trying just signed a record deal with Island Def Jam, after only one year in existence, odds are the band will be holed up in pre-production and recording for the rest of 2002, to meet an early 2003 release date. With only a handful of shows scheduled, it might be wise to catch the band before it goes into hibernation.

Die Trying plays Capitol Garage on Friday, August 16, with Key to ArsonSinge and Downside. Buy a couple of $5 albums while you’re at it.

(SN&R)

Papa Roach

Although lovehatetragedy reveals more about the childhood and personal experiences of frontman Jacoby Shaddix, aka Coby Dick, than should be allowed, his inherent passion and fervor reveal much more than a whining, self-loathing 20-something. From the opening track, the aptly titled “M-80,” to the ridiculously catchy chorus of “She Loves Me Not,” comes a nonstop barrage of cathartic metal. On “Decompression Period,” one of the album’s pseudo-ballads, Jerry Horton’s driving rhythms help break the monotony of an otherwise drab experience. Tobin Esperance surfaces as the primary songwriter, writing the bulk of the album’s standout tracks, like “Black Clouds” and “Time and Time Again.” In an otherwise congested, mediocre genre, Papa Roach succeeds in pushing the envelope of melodic nu-metal beyond Infest, its multi-platinum major-label debut, and the self-released efforts that came before it.

(SN&R)

Creative and commercial

Those Flaming Lips put out some strange stuff, but is it catching fire?

The unconventional and successful Lips.
The unconventional and successful Lips.

Live! “Unlimited Sunshine 2002” at Sacramento Memorial Auditorium, 1515 J Street on Friday, August 9 at 7:30pm, $32.50 with Cake, De La Soul, Modest Mouse and Kinky.

Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots, The Flaming Lips’ new album, was just released on July 16 and continues the band’s tradition of psychedelic-leaning, experimental rock. From robots to fairy tales gone awry, it’d be fair to say that there were more outside influences creeping into their strange mix. As the band’s mastermind, Steven Drozd, explains, “We’d like to think that we make children’s albums … I mean half of this stuff is like that anyways.”

Since its inception, The Flaming Lips have always delivered music for the off-center crowd. It’s been a rough ride at times, but current members Wayne Coyne, Michael Ivins and Drozd have persevered doing things their way.

The year 2002, however, has been exceptionally good for The Flaming Lips. After their new album, Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots, debuted on the U.K. charts at an astounding number 13, they hit jackpot yet again landing the number 50 slot on the U.S. Billboard. In addition to the numerous accolades achieved from the band’s last full-length, The Soft Bulletin, the new album has yielded even bigger prospects, including The Unlimited Sunshine package tour—which stops at Sacramento Memorial Auditorium on Friday, August 9—with Sacramento darlings Cake, De la Soul, Modest Mouse and Kinky. Although the band had released numerous albums to date, it wasn’t until now that international attention would come, other than from the media.

The Flaming Lips’ live experience, not to be missed, features the band’s trademark samples and off-kilter personas. From the instrumental interludes down to singer Wayne Coyne’s vocal warblings, the band delivers a heady mix of synthesized and percussive music. Unfortunately, the only thing plaguing their upcoming show is their short set time.

“We’re playing about 55 minutes a night,” says Drozd, who normally likes to play more luxurious, extended sets. “We’re doing three or four songs from the new album and stuff from The Soft Bulletin, which a lot of people seem to like, one from Zaireeka [the band’s experimental album released on four, separate discs that could only be experienced running four CD players simultaneously] and we’re doing a cover which is a surprise.”

Aided by Mercury Rev studio bassist/producer Dave Fridmann, to whom Drozd refers to as the “fourth member of the band,” the band’s sound and imagery owes as much to space pop as it does to Fridmann. As Drozd points out, Fridmann’s role could be as simple as, “Why don’t you cut this chorus in half? Why don’t you play this faster?” to complete arrangements. “He’s been helping us make records since 1992.”

Perhaps the most striking quality of The Flaming Lips is their inability to cater to conventional song structure. As evidenced on the album’s pseudo-instrumentals, which are aided by various screaming and chanting—“Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots Part 2” and “Approaching Pavonis Mons By Balloon”—radio singles weren’t even an afterthought.

The closest thing to conventional pop is the album’s opener, “Fight Test,” and “Do You Realize,” which did get sent to commercial radio without much response. Perhaps it’s this quality that keeps The Flaming Lips albums in college station rotation—currently top number 5 on CMJ’s nationwide charts.

After only the first night into the tour, Drozd is already talking about plans for the future. “We’ve been talking to Beck. He’s got a new record coming next month and wants us to be his backing band for a month. In the winter or late fall, we’re gonna do a tour and take a few bands with us.”

From experimental shows—the band did a whole national tour utilizing headphones and FM frequency—to unconventional tour billing, not everything has been smooth sailing for Drozd and company. Dubbed the “headphone dates,” the band played theater-size venues funneling their music through FM waves—each audience member was given a Walkman/radio device to experience the show in stereo. Regarding the dates, Drozd is quick to retort, “I’m not sure how much [the headphones] enhanced the show. If we start playing bigger places, I can’t imagine we’d go through it again. As far as tours, we did a Candlebox tour in 1994 as the support act. We were like the weirdest thing.”

Nah, really?

As of press time, singer/lyricist Wayne Coyne resides in Oklahoma City, while Michael Ivins and Steven Drozd live in New York.

While most couldn’t work under these conditions and living arrangements, it’s these circumstances that somehow further enhance the band’s sound and growth. The Lips’ ability to create boundary-breaking, yet commercially viable, music hasn’t been hampered yet.

(SN&R)

Mapfumo fires the bop gun

This year’s sixth California World Music Festival, an annual event that hosts a plethora of divergent acts from around the globe, held court at the fabulous Nevada County Fairgrounds in Grass Valley. Nestled on a few acres of rich soil and forest, the site was breathtakingly exceptional. So was the festival’s roster: From Mickey Hart & Bembe Orisha, local fiddle player Alasdair FraserSol y Canto, the Wayfaring StrangersAlice Peacock and the Nields, among others, you could experience a little from many cultures.

Entering the grounds, you couldn’t help notice the organizer’s attention to detail. Ornate drapery adorned the front of the main stages, there was a magnificent array of exotic foods—no stone was left unturned. Even the sound, a common problem at larger outdoor venues, did justice to the acts that drifted through the course of the day. Those who brought their children had a full course of kid-themed events throughout the three-day event—face painting, crafts, games, puppetry, musical workshops.

Still, it wasn’t until Zimbabwe’s Thomas Mapfumo & the Blacks Unlimited, one of Sunday’s premier headlining acts, took the stage that the festival hit its stride. Backed by a five-piece band—much smaller than his regular touring troupe—Mapfumo’s politically infused Chimurenga music was awe-inspiring. The band played material from the great Mapfumo catalog, including the latest double-CD offering, Chimurenga Rebel/Manhungetunge. The 2,000-plus spectators seemed to coalesce into one big dancing frenzy from the infectious, two-stroke backbeats that characterize Mapfumo’s sound.

Mapfumo has become a world-music icon, with over 20 albums to his credit. Judging by the immediate reception to his first couple of songs, folks already knew and appreciated his great body of “struggle music,” as it’s called. Here, rather than discussing world topics in great detail, Mapfumo and company kept the music coming.

Marred by a late start time—his set started almost 30 minutes behind schedule—Mapfumo’s set was cut short by almost 25 minutes. Not even obvious crowd approval and incessant applause could bring the band back for a quick encore. With her hands tied, the emcee moved on to the next act.

It was late Sunday night and I, along with countless others, decided to move on as well—toward the parking lot.

As good as the festival was, Mapfumo deserved a few extra songs. We knew it, and he knew it.

(SN&R)