Girls (Not) Against Noise: Eula

(As published by the Fairfield County Weekly, October 18, 2007)

New Haven indie rockers Eula take the Acoustic Café stage this Friday as part of what they're calling "An Evening of Noise." And all the bands except one have at least one female member, according to Eula singer Alyse Lamb. "It's all completely selfish," she says. "The show is bands that we like to listen to and like to go see."

Eula, a trio, is a fun, hard-hitting rock band with an eerie twist—Lamb's voice can sound distraught even as the music remains upbeat. She's backed by Jeff Maleri on bass and Nate Rose on drums, and, the weird thing is, as you listen to the EP "Up in Arms," it sounds as though Alyse sings her songs with a permanent smirk on her face.

Smirks are the shit. Sarcasm, satire, not taking yourself too seriously, the whole deal. And Eula agrees. There's an overwhelming feeling of playful anxiety in the music. But no matter how distressed they sound, it's still upbeat. Alyse lets out the sadness through fun riffs, a rockabilly style and a friendly punk feel.

The key is that Eula does a good job of balancing contrasting emotions; this emotional control defines the band as one that, while an "up-and-comer," can lay claim to some songwriting maturity.

You relate to the sadness in their music with a smile as you ride the driving bass line. You like the lovely little torn voice and you love that the music is loud and kick-ass. It's not foolish and it's not exactly dark. You feel it when you watch a love story like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and realize that it's not at all cheesy. I'm not saying Eula is the musical equivalent of the visual masterpiece that is Eternal Sunshine, but their ability to mash the eerie with the adorable, sans cheese, is as important as it is impressive

My favorite Eula song is "Rosie the Riveter (Single Barrel)," for which Nate wrote the music and Alyse wrote the lyrics. "I just wanted to think of something that was as ballsy as his riff...I guess," says Alyse. "So I was thinking of guns and shooting and—I don't know." The result is a creepy and noirish surf-rock riff and lyrics that shine a strong spotlight on the strength of women; "Take the path unknown/tread it 'til it's sore/I promise not to make a sound/as she hits the ground/one of these days, she'll learn/she'll learn the hard way/HEY!"

Eula often wonders what it means to be identified as an as "indie rock" band. "It was about independence, and now it's like the cool thing," says Nate. "It's hard to describe some bands without saying indie, and then everyone says 'oh, I don't like to be labeled.' It's cool to be on stage with eight people, switching instruments. But what's next?"

Alyse has a possible answer: "I heard Matchbox 20 is coming out with a new style. I read it on CNN.com."

On Friday Eula will be joined by Saint Bernadette (who'll have a new CD for sale at the show), Electric Bucket, Electrajet and Fay Rey.

Every band but the last has at least one woman in it. "I thought it would be cool to get some girlies up in there," says Alyse.

And yet another installment of FCW's "Bands to Watch"

(As published in the Fairfield Weekly, September 20, 2007)

This year's Grand Band Slam, which we wrote about a couple of weeks ago, brought back a bunch of repeat offenders—Jen Durkin, Mystic Bowie, the Zambonis, Larissa DeLorenzo, Elvis McMan—and not much in the way of new talent. That's cool: We were happy to coddle the winners as much as we could without totally blowing our credibility—but what about the other guys? The just-starting-outers, the we-almost-have-an-albummers. This is where we talk about them. Submit your friend's band (with a picture) for review here and maybe they'll make the cut. The entirely biased and wholly subjective cut, that is.


Delta 9 and the Flo is a psychedelic quintet built on the assumption that what's missing from Life these days is well-written, intricate and improvisational music to dance to. And if they're right, your next stop at a Fairfield Avenue bar this fall will be really freaking groovy. After a short tour earlier this year, with headlining stops at the University of Vermont and Southern New Hampshire University, the Flo has a new drummer and is happy to welcome a kickin' keyboardist into the fold. Along with original songs, Flo takes classic rock gems and adds complex vocals, impressively tasteful lead guitar playing and their jam-band instincts to let the songs expand. Think Miles Davis, Phish and Pink Floyd's "Echoes" and you've got a rough idea of their sound. Check out www.myspace.com/delta9andtheflo.


Dave Grazinski is a one-man banjo-centered project named Monitor and the Merrimac with a focus on the American history that keeps the banjo alive today. Grazinski emphasizes the storytelling aspects of his songs by playing "at almost any location, with or without a public address system, with or without a floor or a roof or walls or electricity." Microphone? What? Just give him a stool and a beer and he'll make you feel like you're siting around a campfire in the Wisconsin wilderness. Bob Dylan did that kind of stuff once. Monitor and the Merrimac is a local American poet with a banjo who's catering to the People's need for something very real, a little "different" and a lot old-fashioned. Grazinski is working on a fully instrumented album, Grandma's Old Couch, with Mates of States' equipment and musicians from Titles—Titles? whodat?—and he'll be playing all around the area while it's being completed.


Titles is a New Haven indie rock band getting ready for their first big tour of the Northeast. And yeah, we're going to celebrate one of our own: Singer/guitarist/heartthrob Brad Amorosino is a graphic artist at the Weekly—and he's a good singer who's a frickin' awesome graphic artist at the Weekly. The music? The teetering bass line on "Wait I Don't Know," paired with slide guitar playing and casual, witty vocals make for an wholly original, minimalist sound. While many indie bands nowadays ride the folk-country wave or do some kind of emo or post-emo thing, Titles ain't having it. They recently played with Aloha, and they've got a seven-inch vinyl out with Mountain Movers' songs on the backside. Titles will play Fairfield County later this fall; their schedule is at www.listentotitles.com, and so are the pictures. Brad: Don't quit your day job just yet!


Young Souljahs is a raucous hip-hop group from Bridgeport (which they've deemed "the Big City of Dreams") and they're trying to put the city on the map. Forget hot dogs and Robert De Niro sightings; these guys are using their YouTube video "Bridgeport Anthem" to remind everyone about Bridgeport's positive attributes—violence and drug-running, namely. If you live anywhere near Bridgeport, check this out. If you don't, check it out. It's kinda priceless. Laugh all you want but don't hate on it, son. They're even gaining followers in the 'burbs with user comments like "Ha! I'm a rich asshole from Fairfield. Messed up shizznazz. Thankyou BPT for all the 40's and glassware. You may hate me but I'm feeling what you guys are up to." The Weekly covers enough rock bands to know that this certainly is an under-represented viewpoint, so we're spreading the good word about Yung Souljahs. You can say that rap is crap all you want, but this kind of confidence and foul language is at least worth a YouTube search.

Slam Lords: Oh no! Skate-punk festival returns to SoNo

(As published by the Fairfield Weekly, September 13, 2007)

If you've got bloody elbows and you love hairy men with guitars, you have an obligation to hit this year's Thurst Music Slamfest. Vendors, food, live music, skater demos, the Sound and free admission—that's what's going on. It doesn't matter your age, just strap on some elbow pads and hop in the minivan. Mom, we're going to Slamfest, ya dig? Here's a rundown of some of the featured bands:

Crash Romeo has basically been on tour since January, and after just getting back from Warped Tour they're writing a new album. They're a pop-punk band from Jersey, they're unexpectedly on a hardcore label (Trustkill) and they have some catchy lyrics, lively riffs and a lot of energy.

Jacobi Wichita is one of the more seasoned bands of the bunch, with a new album on the way and an energetic, original sound that's almost psychedelic. They're a little bit Linkin Park and little bit Mars Volta, but not as epic. They're proud to be their own blues-funk-hip-hop entity.

Vampire for Hire toured with Crash Romeo this year and they're a new pop-punk band from Jersey, too. I expected blood-thrashing metal, but they're more Hot Topic than blood-thirsty. The local teenage girls on MySpace love them and can't wait for the show.

Swallow the Ocean is part soothing guitar, part murderous scream. A perfect example of what can only be explained as a nightmare is "Dancing Upon a Skunk." But that's exactly what their genre is going for. This is not your father's rock, this is serious scary shit.

Saving Echo sounds like a hardcore Lenny Kravitz, with some Guns N Roses attempts thrown in to balance the whole thing out. A melodic high energy show with strong vocals from Kris Keyes is what you get with these guys.

Lost in Ashford is a hardcore band from Ashford, CT and while they don't scream all their lyrics, it's mostly screams. A tight, loud and thick sound. If the skate park doesn't fuck you up, these guys will.

No Less Than Everything is chaotic hardcore meets melodious metal with some intricate and almost tribal drum beats tying it all together. The mix of influences includes Latin jazz—not what you'd expected from hardcore but they tie it together in a loud, distorted package.

Tim Reynolds: Landing Acoustic UFOs in Your Front Yard

(As published in the Fairfield Weekly, September 13, 2007)
It's been about eight years and countless sold-out Tim Reynolds shows since the widely acclaimed Dave and Tim CD Live at Luther College was released and some people still have no idea who that little guy is sitting next to Dave. The one who can make an acoustic guitar sound like a UFO landing in your backyard. They just know Dave has a friend named Tim.

Truth is, Dave Matthews wishes he was Tim Reynolds. In certain circles Reynolds is considered a visionary, a master, a living legend. And if you pick up one of his 15 solo CDs, you'll find yourself right there in those circles.

I've been listening to Reynolds since hearing Luther College in '99 and while my interest in his acoustic style led me to other musicians like Leo Kottke and Keller Williams, I've still never heard anything as true and honest as a Tim Reynolds song. The improvisation, the bizarre intricacies, the emotion (raw)—it's mysterious and beautiful in a way you've always hoped music can be.

Once I found out that he's coming to Fairfield Theater's StageOne on Friday, I needed to talk to him. And in a mind-blowing hour-long phone conversation, we covered topics ranging from inter-dimensional travel to campaigning with Dennis Kucinich in 2004, and from his fan site to his new DVD with Dave Matthews, Live at Radio City Music Hall.



Tim on the new Dave & Tim DVD:
"I watched it at a friend's house last week in full sound, on a huge projection screen. It was actually really overwhelming and I had to leave," he says with a laugh. "But Dave is fucking kickin' on that thing! It really blew me away."

Tim on the guitar:
"I've been doing electric for a while and I did it a few times earlier this year. Mostly I've been playing acoustic, and it complements me really digging writing, and just realizing that you never know enough on any instrument. I just want to learn more."

Tim on the blues:
"Yesterday I started playing the old blues guys again and revisiting some of that. Revisiting and reeducating myself on the way to play one note and make it very subtly different for a long time. Studying a very simple form like blues and then seeing how complex a blues tune by one of the old masters is. If you listen to every little thing they do, it's like, you can't write that shit down. It's so raw and authentic. Like John Hammond, I just think he's the shit. The man can get down. He's just bringin' it. That motherfucker is rockin' like some bands wish they could."

Tim on his fan site, TimReynolds.com:
"It's just a whole different world, I don't even relate to it in a way. Although I really appreciate that people like it."

Tim on inter-dimensional travel:
"I just try to keep it in my head that it's all about the music for me and I should just keep making music. And as I get older, I almost feel like it controls me to be that way. And it almost feels like at some point it happens, and I'm in outer space and I'm flying into this what-music-is dimension that's on earth, but it's also in other dimensions simultaneously that you really can't even put into words, but you can put it into music.

"I think there's inter-dimensional traveling because physics demands it in a way, and I feel that through music that's real. I don't really go for the aliens hanging out and visiting us. I think there's inter-dimensional consciousness visiting us. But the whole Roswell thing is a totally different story."

Tim on meditation:
"When you're breathing quiet and you quiet your mind, once you can really do that for even five seconds, [it's] a totally different dimension that's completely ongoing, everywhere all the time. It's like musical inspiration; it's just waiting for us to tap into. As I get older, that sense of truth, you can't even put certain things into words or reason and I think it just comes out in music, I just give myself to that.

Tim on the '08 presidential election:
He started to laugh. "I'm gonna say 'fuck' a lot. I'm still in a dark, black widow mode from the last election.

"What [Dennis] Kucinich did [in '04] was brave and I still think he's the shit and he should be president. After going all over the country seeing how things are in the country, the whole system—media, government—they're so fixed on image and anti-substance. Something is going to have to unite us that isn't based on fear, because our country is really a giant ego of fear.

"Part of me wants to get wild with [campaigning with Kucinich again], but part of me just feels like the whole government system needs to blow its fascist wad and get over itself. Maybe Bush will be the first one to wake up and say, 'This is bullshit, I ain't workin' for you guys anymore.'"

Eat Impeach: Protesters descend on a Stamford restaurant to call on Nancy Pelosi to support articles of impeachment against Bush and Cheney.

(As printed in the Fairfield Weekly, August 16, 2007)

Members of the Weston, Westport and Stamford Impeachment Committees gathered on Thursday to call for Bush and Cheney's head in front of Stamford's Il Falco restaurant.

Inside, House Speaker and impeachment-opposer Nancy Pelosi was in attendance for a Chris Murphy fund-raiser; according to those leaving the lunch, Pelosi spoke about uniting the Democrats and ending the War in Iraq, and mentioned nothing about impeachment.

The protesters were itching to get the message across to anyone who'd listen. Richard Duffee, a retired lawyer and spokesman for the trio of local impeachment committees, wrote a letter he wanted to give to Pelosi with a petition signed by 650 pro-impeachment locals. His letter refers to the pair as as "domestic enemies of the Constitution" with "no signs of reforming themselves."

"[w]e can't get our troops out of Iraq without impeachment," he said, "because Bush and Cheney are too intimidating in Washington and they're too unresponsive."

Duffee had a message, a big bushy beard and in his hands, a copy of the Constitution printed on parchment. He spoke of hypocrisy in the government and referenced the Geneva Convention and the Nuremburg Laws as evidence of the need to remove Bush from his post. "It's standard Fascist stuff," he claimed.

Sal Liccione, a friend of Murphy's and head of Dennis Kucinich's presidential campaign in the state, was able to hand the letter to Rep. Murphy inside the restaurant. "If you can't listen to grass-roots messages like this," he said, "then what can you do?"

Liccione said 57 percent of Americans want to impeach Bush and he reported that 18 members of the House (but not Murphy) have already signed Kucinich's House Resolution 333, which on Congress to impeach Bush-Cheney.

A teenaged boy walked by; one of the older protesters asked him if he liked the Rolling Stones (the boy was wearing a Stones t-shirt). He said yes, and kept walking.

"What about Bush?" someone yelled.

"I hate him!" the boy yelled back.

A sigh of generational relief. "Looks like we've got the upper-middle class vote," said John Iles, 71, of Redding.

"I'm just sick of this whole damn thing," Mary Maynard said with a laugh. She was holding a sign that simply said Enough. She was waving, smiling and throwing out thumbs-up to every car that drove by, hoping for some feedback. Many passersby ignored all attempts at eye-contact, but most waved or threw back a thumbs-up. There were honking cars, honking buses and clapping families across the street.

Among the anti-impeachers who came by was Gregory Lodato, a thirtysomething Republican member of the Stamford Board of Representatives, who said, "The debate has gotten too polarized and now people want to impeach. It's ridiculous."

Once the protesters heard of his he support for the war, they jumped all over him, calling him un-American. In response, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Lodato told the crowd that he was Native American. The crowd asked what tribe he was from; he laughed the question off. "Look up the word 'native' in the dictionary," he said. A long, polarized argument about heritage and ancestry followed until someone said, "you're all missing the point." Lodato agreed and eventually said, "It is not our place to be telling the Speaker of the House to do her job."

At one point the wonderfully Italian owner of Il Falco, Vincenzo Cordaro, stepped out to greet the crowd and he happily shared his views. "I don't think we can impeach him today," he said with a laugh, "but I think this is great. This is a great country."