Cole Guerra has crafted a sound that balances on the edge between progressive rock and pop with latest project I Am Casting, a musical entity we have been captivated by since premiering “Clay” last year. Amidst the release of the project’s debut album, we got a few minutes to sit down and dig in with Guerra on everything music. Check it out below!
There was a time when you were studying and performing, were there any points where the focus of your studies intermingled with your song writing?
That period was well before writing any of the songs on Carnival Barkers. The overlap would have occurred primarily during the writing of an album called Scarves & Knives, which I put out under my own name years ago. I don’t believe that the focus of my studies really made its way into contemporaneous songwriting material, though I can look back and recognize that I was, at times, working some psychological stuff out (about myself) through my lyric writing.
On the other hand, my exposure during grad school and beyond to issues central to clinical psychology and social psychology has pretty clearly influenced my lyrics over the past couple years, while writing the tunes on Carnival Barkers.
Does your background in psychology help when writing lyrics?
In general, I’m sure that the psych background funnels me towards certain subject matter, even if I’m not altogether deliberate or conscious about this, and that it then informs the perspective I have on the chosen subjects. The psych background definitely influenced how I approached the material on Carnival Barkers. It was 2016 when I began working on the album, and from the start of lyric-writing I knew my framework was to write a collection of tunes that would observe, from various angles, something about the psychology of the political moment. Most of the songs offer a take on toxic influencers and/or their impact, both on those who ‘buy in’ to the message and those who do not. For example, I think of ‘Wolf’, ‘Charmer’, and ‘Lullaby’ as Pied Piper-like riffs, thematically. I view ‘Helpless’, ‘Muggers’, and ‘Seams’ as fragments of possible responses by those upended and left feeling powerless in the wake of a malignant carnival barker. ‘Flood’ and ‘Window’ are songs about the political exploitation of fear and prejudice.
Carnival Barkers will soon be released, “Flood” was the first single released from your new album. What is the background behind “Flood”?
‘Flood’ was one of the first songs written for Carnival Barkers – it was penned in mid-2016. During the run-up to the election, I was disgusted, like many, by how often Trump negatively framed non-white and non-European populations and made racial and ethnic distinctions increasingly salient. He was explicitly signalling to his political base that they should care about race and ethnicity differences, and that those outside their racial and ethnic ingroups (here’s the social psychology influence I referenced above) were clear threats. In essence, he seemed to have a strategy of stoking and then exploiting people’s fears about those in outgroups. We’ve seen this play out over the past couple years – in, for example, the alarmism about the “Caravan” or with the just-declared “national emergency”. ‘Flood’ tries to get at aspects of this, as does the song ‘Window’.
The video for “Flood” used footage of historical events that ties into the song, of the footage you used which part sums up “Flood” the most?
The juxtaposition of (a) clips from a 1957 promo piece by Redbook magazine that depicted tranquil white suburbia with (b) clips depicting the aggression and hostility of white women and men towards the Little Rock Nine during that same year.
After Scarves & Knives you kind of disappeared, what were you doing in that time?
At the time of releasing Scarves & Knives, and then touring in support of it, I was ‘on leave’ from my clinical psychology program. I had a decision to make after touring – do I finish the degree or commit full-time to music? I was invested in both possible paths and knew I wanted to wrap up the doctoral degree and keep the door open to becoming a practicing psychologist. I re-engaged in the grad program, which was a pretty immersive thing involving dissertation writing and clinical work, followed by an internship and subsequent ‘post-doc’ experience. After that, I jumped into developing my clinical psychology practice. During that stretch, whenever I tried to write music, it just felt kind of painful – like if I couldn’t do it full-on, why bother? Hard to explain, really. I somehow ended up going years without doing anything music-related. Most of that time, I didn’t even touch a guitar or keyboard. It wasn’t until 2016 that I began writing again.
Is there any overall advantage from working primarily from your home studio?
Yes, absolutely, especially as I’ve come to view tracking itself as an important part of my songwriting process – things are pretty iterative at this point, so I benefit from having the ability to easily go in and adjust, rinse, repeat, etc. I guess I could just call what I end up with a ‘demo’ and then go to a full-fledged studio, but the home studio is sufficient for me to obtain most of what I’m after – there are exceptions, and I did leave the home space to record some stuff.
What element of Carnival Barkers are you most proud of and why?
Probably that it feels like an album. There are thematic threads that connect the tunes, as I was describing earlier, and I think there are musical threads that do the same (arrangement choices, tonally coherent). Hopefully, if a listener takes in the full LP in a single gulp, there is a “whole is greater than the sum of its parts” type impact.
You studied piano as a child, how did this set you up musically for your future musical endeavors?
I’m sure that early exposure to an instrument was one of the things that contributed to a love of music, along with extensive music-listening as a young kid. I’m also pretty sure that playing the piano made it easier to learn and play the guitar, which I picked up just after high school. This is conjecture, but maybe the most significant impact of playing an instrument as a young kid was that it introduced me very early on to the idea that one’s experience with music can be that of an active participant.
What was it about Richard Buckner’s Since that captivated you so much?
Just about everything, really. Chord progressions and melodies that grabbed me immediately and then somehow continued to grow on me after a ridiculous amount of spins. The sound itself – dry vocal upfront, immersive + emotional musical beds. The tunes cohere as an album, and yet there is a great amount of variability in song tempos, tone, structure, and length. I usually don’t weigh lyrical content that greatly in my music preferences, but Buckner’s lyrics on Since are just incredible. And lastly, the tunes seemed so specifically him – I didn’t have a clear sense of ‘influences’.
Since also introduced me to the work of producer and bassist JD Foster, who had produced the LP as well as Bucker’s preceding album, Devotion & Doubt. A few years after the release of Since, I invited JD to a show I was playing in NYC – the conversation with JD after that gig eventually led to the making of Scarves & Knives.
Why did it take a text from Ian Schreier to get you making music again, had you not thought of your music before that point?
There was something motivating about re-engaging with people I’d worked on music with in the past – Ian had mixed Scarves & Knives and been involved in some of the recording as well. Also, quite frankly, it was probably that the messages from Ian over a couple months, along with some other input from musicians I respect a lot, helped to build up some lost confidence. The initial communication from Ian led to a couple meetings at the studio where he typically works, and to me taking a plunge on buying some home recording software/hardware – I’d never had any recording gear previously.
When creating music for Carnival Barkers it was the lyrics that came second, what is your usual creative process of writing?
Lyrics have always come relatively late in the process for me. Frankly, as a listener, the music (the chord progression, the melody, the texture/sound/feel, etc.) speaks to me far more than does any lyric. A bad lyric can put me off, but I’ll listen to a great-sounding tune with middling lyrics. A good lyric is like a bonus of sorts, icing on the cake.
Though I’ve always written music before lyrics, the creative process did change quite a bit for Carnival Barkers. Prior to CB, I’d write the progression + melody + lyric while sitting with a guitar or at the piano, and think about arrangement and texture after the song was, in essence, ‘done’. With CB, the home recording setup and software enabled me to write and record percussion (and other) parts in tandem with the keys or guitar, and the rhythm and ‘texture’ tracks ended up influencing my progressions and melodies to a degree I never would have predicted – I really prefer this newer approach. As I start playing with a vocal melody over a progression I’ve already written and recorded, a lyrical idea or theme will sort of emerge – usually a phrase or two grab me and then I shape the remaining lyric accordingly.
Thank you for giving Imperfect Fifth this interview, is there anything you would like to add?
No, other than thanks for expressing interest in the album!
On February 15th, Kalyn Fay released her new 11-track full-length, Good Company, to a patiently waiting bevy of fans. Hailing from Claremore, OK, Kalyn Fay is a of Cherokee descent, and happened to have earned her undergraduate and master’s degrees while consuming herself in songwriting. Her work is incredible, and this new release is no different. We’re thrilled that it’s now out in the world for all of us to enjoy.
Beginning slowly, the title track carries us into a robust and wonderful soundscape, a pace that is reduced again in “Wait for Me”. “Highway Driving” gives us more of that quintessential twang and Fay’s voice gets raspier, which is the truth for “Baby Don’t You Worry” as well, a more bluesy and rich track. “Come Around” continues at this pace, but has more of a an ethereal feel to it than its predecessors, while sixth track “Long Time Coming” almost seems to play with dissonance, with its trudging and melancholic, yet wonderful, instrumentals.
“Oklahoma Hills” has a piece of home in it, “Alright in the End” feels morbid with its title but turns out to be a very comforting and warm song, and “Faint Memory” is perhaps the softest and most Lillith Fair-worthy track, a commentary on how easy it is for time to “play tricks” on you. “Fool’s Heartbreak” sounds more like the southern music that inspired the track itself, soulful in its disposition. “Dressed In White” rounds it all out nicely, alluding to marriage, of course. But we see it as infusing a sense of a freedom in a young woman, whether her father is offering her up for marriage or to live a healthy, independent lifestyle.
Either way, we feel that fullness and that freedom as the last notes hit, a faint smile left on our lips.
Following in our nostalgic-tinged soundscape-leaning pattern, noir pop duo 8MM – Juliette Beavan and Sean Beavan – we hear a little 90s pop woven in with their quintessential sound in “Self-Inflicted Heartache”, the first track off their new released Heart-Shaped Hell. As you may have guessed, the soundscape twists and turns after that, a bit more edge to “Supercrush” before leading into a true pop single with the title track, somehow delivered with an eery twist. “Bring It On” is the most moody of them all, the second half growing powerful with the added male vocals. The pair round it out nicely with “Move With Me” and its accompanying radio edit, slower paced, but filled with emotional range to keep you on a sort of edge regardless.
Stay on edge with Heart-Shaped Hell. It’s a wonderful experience.
As you lean slowly into the gentle and mellifluous soundscape of Jane Willow‘s Onward Still, your mind starts to wander, and wonder what the inspiration for this work of art exactly was. From the first caress of vocals in “Onward Still”, to the last defining, harmonic moments of “Comfort”, this 6-track EP is nothing if not the perfectly watercolored canvas to hang over your blooming ideas and goals and adventures for 2019. “On My Mind” hits you with introspective and intense lyrics, sad strings to really rip into your heart’s deepest cavities. “Nobody Knows” has a strangely poignantly placed feeling of freedom to the delivery of the vocals, subtle yet defining nuances throughout.
“Hannah” brings the pace up, the Dublin-based artist’s most notably uplifting track to the work. “If I Did Love You” is quite the ballad, theatric and haunting in its presence. “Comfort” truly rounds the release out nicely, with a sound that makes you feel as though you’re basking in the glow of the sun on a patio somewhere amongst vineyards. This song itself evokes the title in an effortless and wonderful way, which seems to be the artist’s intention. We’ll be using this as our adult lullaby for a while, and we’re not even remotely ashamed.
Folk pop duo Fox and Bones – comprised of Sarah Vitort and Scott Gilmore – lays the groundwork for a fun, adventure-filled album from the very first lines of Better Land‘s initial track “Little Animal”, which boasts the feeling of a mid-album track, tempo having already had time to build. But this duo hits the ground running with every track, establishing its energy and diction separately than its predecessor. While “Love Me Like a River” brings the album into a deeper soundscape, “Roots” has a soulful anthem feel to it. “Roads” slows everything down exponentially, poetic in that fact, as they focus on the little details of spending life on the road.
“Reckless” sets a very different tone than “Tricky Love”, which happens to be one of our favorite tracks on this collection. The title track brings the tempo back up, definitely a staple on the album. “Strange” takes on ballad form, while “Pin Up” brings more twang to its instrumentals, setting a simple, beautiful tone to it. “Any of it With You” brings the positivity back in, establishing a sense of energy to work hard with what time you have left. Eleventh and final track “Welcome Home” is a head bobber, absolutely your next staple on long road trips as you search “for that spark.”
Pop-punk collective The Travoltas – comprised of Perry Leenhouts, Erik van Vugt, Jochem “Skokie” Weemaes, Wouter “Woody” Verhulst, Michel “Mikk” Meeuwissen, Daan van Hooff, Tim van Doorn – is coming at us hard this holiday season with their self-titled, 14-track full-length. With their quintessential pop/punk sound, the quintet has taken on a 60’s pop flare – much like that of The Oneders – that will get your toes tapping from the very first lines of “I Can’t Say No”, through to the very end of fourteenth track “Thing”. And though “Snowball” clearly nods at the cold weather of the days upon us, the soundscape feels very island-vibey, and we’re all for it. While “Work of Art” continues at a similar clip, “Ghost of Your Love” is slightly darker instrumentally, mirroring its name. They up the jazz factor with “Mail Ya To Australia”, and then get back to a pop/punk, Weezer-y vibe with “If You Could Be the Star”.
Seventh track “Making Out” once again occurs at a pretty quick pace, a notable love song, while “Blame My Baby” slows it down, and has a very Fountains of Wayne feel to it (in only the best ways). “Crying Shame” has a misleadingly upbeat instrumental piece, though the vocals tear through you and evoke the emotion fitting of its title. From the low lows to the very highest of highs, “Tower of Strength” comes next to bring the party levels back up. “I Was Dancing in a Lesbian Bar” and “Did I Lose You at I Love You?” have, perhaps, the most insightful titles, boasting catchy hooks that will easily get trapped in your head. “Hurry up!” has way less energy than you’d expect from its title, but that fact doesn’t detract from its endearing nature in the slightest. The Travoltas round out the album quite well with their quirky, hit single-worthy track “Thing”.
If you aren’t a fan of the band after reading our positive thoughts on their self-titled work, you might try giving it a spin. Actually, do that anyway. It’s quite the experience, and we’re big fans.
Tracklisting
01. I Can’t Say No
02. Snowball
03. Work of Art
04. Ghost of Your Love
05. Mail Ya To Australia
06. If You Could Be The Star
07. Making Out
08. Blame My Baby
09. Crying Shame
10. Tower of Strength
11. I Was Dancing In The Lesbian Bar
12. Did I Lose You At I Love You
13. Hurry Up!
14. Thing
Kansas City, Missouri-based garage rock psych pop band Eggs on Mars – comprised of Brad Smith (vocals, guitars, keys), Justin Longmeyer (bass), and Mason Potter (drums, percussion) – recently released a 10 track album titled Mama Pancake. As absurd and wonderful as the title is – and the name of the band – the album itself is so much more. First track “Sod is Good” is all types of amazing, from the realness of the track’s name to the calming mood that passes over us as we dwell in its slow, mellifluous glory. While “Placeholders” speeds up a bit and gives us a very 60s psych punk vibe, “Many Minds” brings more of a 90s feel to it. “Red Haired Darling” slows it all down a bit, a love song for all of the red headed beauties in our lives.
“Doing Fine” gives off a bit of a melancholic feeling sonically for the first half, and the title isn’t quite convincing if you ask us. It gains momentum, though, and leads pretty nicely into simplified instrumentals with “Not to Regain”. The sentiment given off in the lyrics of “A Song” makes it feel a little more than “just a song”, while “Don’t Listen” speeds it up, giving us something fun to move our hips to. “Prayer for a Troubled Son” continues in that vein, a fun guitar riff to keep us on our toes throughout.
Eggs on Mars rounds out the album with “Meet Me in Hannibal” – Hannibal is a small town in Missouri where Mark Twain grew up, for those of you wondering – and anyone who has been carried away by a long(er) distance relationship can relate. It’s a beautifully bittersweet love song, slowly and carefully concocted to give us starry eyes as the music fades.
Mama Pancake is available now. Keep up with Eggs on Mars here.
One part June Carter sassing Johnny Cash along with two dashes of Itzhak Perlman on a midnight hayride, Mad Crush’s songs contain theatrical, back-and-forth performances between their singing protagonists Joanna Sattin and John Elderkin. Complete with humor and heartbreak, their songs are in fact bright little dramas about fussing, fighting, and occasionally making up—universal truths sprinkled with brand-new magic dust. Below, Elderkin discusses his first musical influences, which are readily apparent upon listening to Mad Crush’s recently-released debut LP.
I have a habit of dismissing great albums on my first listen. I had friends with an advanced copy of Nirvana’s “Nevermind” who freaked out when they heard it, but when I listened, I thought it sucked. Later, I gave it another try and realized I was way wrong. Like the rest of the world, I ate it up. I had a similar reaction to R.E.M.’s first EP, called “Chronic Town.” Friends I respected said that it sounded unlike anything they’d ever heard anywhere. I listened and shrugged. It was different, but what was it? But when I pulled the record out again a few months later, I was flabbergasted. Those guys were speaking my language!
The one time I got it right came before these albums, on my first listen to The Clash’s “London Calling.” I was a teenager but I’d never heard of The Clash, and I bought it because I liked the cover picture of the bass player smashing his guitar on stage. I turned on my record player and by the end of the first song I was jumping up and down on my bed like a maniac. When my younger brother came in to ask what the hell was going on, I pointed to the record player and sure enough, he jumped on the bed, too. The only time I got down was to turn over the sides. I didn’t own a lot of records yet, and afterward I probably assumed that most albums would knock me out this way, that life would be one “London Calling” after another. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t so impressed later with other records that were supposed to bowl me over. Or maybe it’s just that great…
The world has waited since 1997’s RAPT to hear a follow-up from folk singer-songwriter Rebecca Blasband. Having spent some time producing sound design and music for television and film, she clearly has a knack for what works with her audience, a fact evident within the tracks on Here. Rebecca wastes no time, jumping right into gorgeous ballad “Love Is”, getting a little more primal with the percussive instrumentals. The title track seems to slow the pace down a bit, a lot more introspective than its predecessors. While “Walking On Water” is a song you could see yourself singing around a fire with your closest friends, while “Who The Hell is Peter Brown?” might get a little more attention at a karaoke bar. (It’s got an edge to it a crowd can’t deny!)
“Those Happy Days” picks the pace back up of course, quirky and fun in its existence, while “Ghost Song” slows it all down a bit more, getting very real with lines like “Sometimes I think I’m just gonna disappear / Waste away / In thin air.” If you feel a little out of control of your life right now, this track will resonate in its entirety. “Way Of The World” is a slap of reality, while “Gotta Work It Out” reintroduces that edge we fell for earlier. “Target” is soulful, psychedelic and perfection in most situations, though you might want to be careful about playing the beginning of it while driving. “Long Distance Love Affair” rounds it all out in a bittersweet and beautiful way, as mention of a long distance love affair brings a level of melancholy to an already meandering and blues-y song. It’s the perfect end to the album, as it makes us all feel a little detached by the end of it.
Here is available now. Keep up with Rebecca Blasband here.
