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all
photos on this page by Danny Gorchow
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 Stinking
Lizaveta
Room710, Sat, Oct25, 2003
Touring as a way of life, from Philly-cheese-steak-land, it’s
Stinking Lizaveta, an instrumental trinity and live music
experience of biblical contortions. Three amazing musicians
with no cheese about them, these "progenitors of doom
jazz" take the concept of "band" and expand
it to a stretch between alternative family and alternative
reality. First time I saw them was in a scuzzy punk-rock-hell-hole
near San Francisco, out in the East Bay boonies. They disintegrated
my radical meter. Their extreme uniqueness is something from
the Big Bang that was flung far off in the universe and evolved
under its own laws of physics.
The brothers Papadopoulos - Yanni on guitar and Alexi on bass
- are electrons that spark and buzz around their nucleus,
Cheshire Augusta (drummer), a warrior goddess sent to smite
our puny earthling hides. Claw marks sunk deep in my anticipation
of their tour stop in Austin.
Well, as he proves daily, God hates me. With the extra hour
of bar time on clocks-back night, it was well into the smoke-saturated
morning when Stinking Lizaveta got on stage. So I cut out
after a couple songs, but only after seeing that the crowd
was "getting it". I took the image home, seized
the pillow, and prayed for warm weather. I had proposed to
the band an interview the next day at Doggy Springs, knowing
that they bring their dogs on tour, and knowing how dogs and
van-touring rockers love water.
God sent a cold front. I figured they would blow me off, but
lo and behold, four attempts to contact me! They left their
cell number on the machine, which I spastically erased trying
to rewind it. As I self-flagellated with a thorny stick, Yanni
called again. We got cut off (more beatings). He called back
and we figured out a meeting place. I was spazzing out so
badly that I locked my keys in my room and had to bash the
doorknob off with a hammer.
They waited in the rain by the Godzilla on Guadalupe. I ate
a slice while they looked for Alexi who had disappeared. We
all went to the café across the street. Yanni got a
big fancy coffee with fluffy stuff in it. Alexi got a tea.
I got a Red Stripe. Cheshire is a superior female specimen;
I was so flustered facing the power she exudes, I forget what
she got.
We talked about their road adventures and long-term loyalty.
The three have been touring together for close to a decade,
independent and low-budget, staying in friends’ houses,
campsites and rest stops, letting the dogs run around between
shows. The crazy stuff happened in the first three years,
says Alexi, but they continue their transcontinental rock-race
undaunted.
R&R: You guys are booked solid this time.
How has the tour been going?
What are your best cities?
SL: The Austin show was slamming! Denver,
Albuquerque and Minneapolis were good. Oklahoma City was bad.
Pittsburgh PA rocks. New York sucks ass. Well, the New York
show was OK but there’s no local scene, no community.
R&R: Not like Austin (shit-eating grin).
SL: It’s not like anywhere else. In
Austin there’s music coming out of every other door.
R&R: You still tour in a van, with your
dogs. How have things changed? I mean, you’re getting
older. How much longer can you go on, moving your own gear?
Alexi: No longer. We quit.
Yanni: If we get any older we might have
teen appeal. I have to lose more hair. No, over the years
not much has changed. The same bands are still big. Slayer,
Metallica. There’s still pop punk and garage, but who
cares. I don’t care about anything retro.
Cheshire: Yeah, retro is stupid.
Alexi: One kind of retro is the same as any
other kind.
Cheshire: What is it that YOU have to say?
Every person is an individual. Why would I want to pretend
to be someone else?
Alexi: We’re more influenced by our
own experiences - by our peers - than anything big that’s
been done.
R&R: Who are your peers? What other bands
have you seen or played with that we should recognize on your
level, as unknown/un-huge but extraordinary?
SL: Hidden Hand from Maryland, Keel Haul
from Cleveland, Meat Jack from Baltimore. Boxcar Satan from
San Antonio is cool, and there was Goodwill from Detroit (defunct?).
They influence us but we don’t even recognize it, it’s
unconscious.
Cheshire: I totally feel like I’m in
the center of everything right now.
Yanni: I just wanna rock.
Cheshire: The most exciting thing we’re
doing now is playing with belly dancers. We’ll meet
them in New Orleans for a Halloween show.
R&R: Cheshire, you’re a total ass-kick
drummer, with a really distinctive style. How long have you
been drumming?
Cheshire: I started playing drums when I
was 24 (a late start, yes). I started on piano as a kid. I
wanted to be able to accompany myself in Gilbert & Sullivan
musicals.
R&R: Alexi, what kind of bass is that
thing you have that looks like a medieval catapult?
Alexi: it’s a Morelli, early 70’s
upright electric, actually standard but it’s been altered;
the sound is due to the pickups (active Alembic). Yanni bought
it for me for $150, but replacing it would cost thousands.
R&R: You guys are intellectually advanced
for a bunch of punk rockers.
Yanni: Yeah... Chess Rock.
R&R: What are your songs about? Do you
have a crowd-rocker?
Cheshire: Yeah, "LBJ" - (what’s it about?)
– it’s about Lyndon Baines Johnson.
R&R: Thanks for clearing that up. If
there are no lyrics, how can the songs be about something?
Is it just a mood?
Yanni: We have a song called "I Renounce the Government."
But if it wasn’t called that, it would be called "Attack
of the Foo-Foos" or something.
Cheshire: I get rhythmic inspiration from sports - running,
at different speeds.
R&R: Cheshire, do you consider yourself
an alternative role model for young girls?
Cheshire: I consider myself a religious leader. No, of course
I consider myself a role model, when all that’s out
there for them is this horrible Britney Spears shit-crap.
R&R: Well, you have the day off. What
are you doing later?
SL: Going to an art show and a movie at the
Alamo - a Warhol fest is playing.
Yanni: That could be dreadful.
Cheshire: Oh, that could be awesome!
Yanni: We’re all gonna hang out at
separate places?
Cheshire: …and all be so happy not
to smell each other’s butt holes. This paper is fun!
R&R: Yep, Wendy rocks. And Larry, and
everyone, shit, I love it.
SL: Hey, we picked up a hitchhiker who also
knew Wendy. He says Wendy rocks too! He was coming from jail.
R&R: Imagine that. So you’ll be
back for SXSW. Cool. Where are you playing?
SL: Hopefully Woody will book us at Room
710.
Room
710 staff observed Stinking Lizaveta in the backstage loft
- not partying, but playing chess. "Chess Rock"
it is, then. Look them up on ww.rockdetector.com
for CDs and history.
-Beky Hayes
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Attic
Ted
CD Release for The Bastardized Country Carnival (Pecan Crazy
Records)
Room 710, October 2, 2003
When vocalist/organist, Grady Roper, first described Attic
Ted’s imminent second release, then titled The Screaming
Mimis (now renamed The Bastardized Country Carnival), he said
the result of their second effort would make their already
endearingly bizarre first album sound like a “pop record.”
Which made me wonder… Not only does Bastardized have
the same spooky distortion and eerily oscillating rhythm of
the debut, but it’s actually more polished and refined
than the first. While it may not be as suddenly unique and
stylish as the first, it is just as inimitable, eccentric
and even more adventurous. While “Oh No” and “Bob
Less” possess the same trademark carnie-esque drive
and macabre surrealism, “A Door” rolls with an
almost pop sensibility. “Minor Quickie” and “Never
Fall” tread on the fringes of rock ’n roll. “Years
Ago,” an Alice Cooper cover and one of the last tracks
to be included on the finished album, has a stripped-down
musicality with staggered guitar and a disembodied chorus
giving a markedly different feel from previous songs, representing
a partial evolution from what seems to be the original concept
of the band. It’s one of several songs that feature
lyrics that are a little more lighthearted, with imagery that’s
not as overtly dark as earlier endeavors, such as “Transformer’s,”
‘He was a sugar cube/until he went in the rain/he melted
away/and now he walks with a cane.’
There was sadness in the first album that seems to have been
replaced by a more blithe and almost silly ingredient. “Transformer,”
along with “Attic Ted” and “Arachniphobia”
[sic], are the strongest, most evolved tracks on the new album,
standing upright as well-adapted little creatures, fusions
of the Attic Ted of the last album, and elements of the band’s
new direction.
The show, of course, rocked. Attic Ted played the new songs,
but they also included crowd pleasers like “Trumpet”
and “Sparrow Camaro,” as well as my personal favorite,
the mournful and distraught “Leonard.” Bill Jeffery,
the newest addition to the group, played a trumpet that was
hard to hear when he wasn’t dancing by, but contributed
well to the overall cosmorama that is Attic Ted. –Benjamin
Reed |
Oh!
Beast/ Yeti
Rm. 710, Mon. Oct. 27th
This show was such an Austin Monday nite
special for me and 25 other people. Yeti is from Ft.Worth.
They’re a trio, git-bass-drums. Their set was unique
because a whole rack of keyboards was left unused due to a
left behind pedal. Honestly, I would have never known and
was only provoked by the thought of another layer of sound.
They played a 3-song set, lasting 20 minutes tops. “Enter
Serpents” and “Strangled by Light” were
the names of some of these. They were aggressive in a Power
Violence way, reminding me of Man is the Bastard’s sparse,
smashing rhythms. We’re talking slowed down progressions
with accents of kick drum and cymbals that would work a punching
bag over. There was some Ginn-styled git work flowing over
this at times that combined to make the music come out both
crazed and purposeful. More than once they busted into full
synched riffs that made me feel as if I were in the court
of the Crimson King.
Yeti pulled from all over the influences reminding
me of the Ruins and then Neurosis’ Pain of Mind. The
drummer operated a loop making machine that would ebb and
flow cyclically, creating a never-ending atmosphere between
the three long play songs in their set. These guys were really
good, interesting, showing some real nice taste. No doubt
they own a Dystopia record too. The three of them sang at
various times which just enhanced the already fat dynamic
happening. Sometimes growling, others full on soul bearing
screams, the Yeti had the speed, the tightness, and the range
to make it good.
I’d like to thank Oh! Beast for allowing
me to write about Frank Zappa. There is a style FZ gets into
when his band is in full swing, syncopated, virgin tight,
playing the most complex maze of polyrythms, then they all
stop, the band members all mumble something different on cue
about the works of Stravinsky, smoking tube socks, or the
mud shark, then they all pop right back into straight faced
high-brow technical prowess. It’s an amazing juxtaposition
of the humor and the skills. And that’s the cross streets
that this Oh! Beast show review begins at. In between the
pig-squeal burps of the Moog, the sliding bass throb, the
rubber strat twang, and the kick-kick snare padlock beat,
the triple falsetto vocal front is charmingly apt. I thought
of Andy Gibb drugged up in the Cucumber Castle “with
a spoon far up his nose”. At times the git played the
vocal melody which is a great duet effect. Often the band
switched instruments and held us at attention with the same
mesmerizing thump of D.W.Sims.
Most important was that this was the “new”
Oh!Beast material. All songs were totally cool. That’s
it. They grabbed me, made me watch, were interesting throughout,
each freaking note; so much that I was not tired when I got
home but rather refreshed. I’m serious too.
They played a cover of “Please Listen to the Sirens”
by Tubeway Army, a sneak peek at their musical Halloween costume.
(Which was very authentic.) As far as alchemy is concerned
these guys make damn good Fool’s gold. And there’s
that intersection again. Just don’t eat the “Yellow
Ice.”
-Kevin
Stack
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