Category: Features

Ali Angel Creates Infectious Vibe by Capturing, Blending Generations

~ Carl Lawrence Knauf ~ Leave a comment

“Precious, the look upon your face, I wish I could frame it, you watch me dancing in the crowd, laughing way too loud, but you’re too sweet to ever call me out.”
-Ali Angel, “Loving You Lately”

EXT: SUBURBAN HOME – DAY

Bubbles drift toward the clear blue sky above a circle of parents and toddlers. The gathering claps and sings along to a female guitarist strumming away on her acoustic, swaying back and forth while sitting cross-legged on plush green grass. The adults move the children’s arms like puppets as giggles and smiles fill a fenced backyard in the confines of suburbia.

EXT: BEACH – NIGHT

The slow climb of the tide pushes against the sand before sliding back into the Pacific. Sparks float slowly yet uncontrollably to join the endless dots that speckle the black blanket above. The same guitarist, shifting her tone, plays a tune as folks pause their casual conversations and toast their drinks as they enjoy a pseudo concert around a bonfire. 

Ali Angel is that versatile performer from both scenes. The Los Angeles-based singer-songwriter is a fresh talent and brings along a soulful perspective. Her voice is pure and comforting and her sound blends generational roots.

“There’s always something new, there’s always something changing, I’m always evolving. … I want to be as real as I can always,” Angel said. “I’m on the side of looking at the glass half-full and getting the vibe out.”

From Al Green to Sheryl Crow to Sturgill Simpson, Angel’s influences are apparent in her music. The folksy rhythms combined with the use of brass and solid structure provide listeners with not only a great sound but an undeniably groovy vibe.

Angel’s journey is spelled out for the audience through her notes and her words.

“Tell me that a good time’s coming.”

Angel is a product of her surroundings and luckily for her, she grew up and lived in some of the best American music scenes. New Orleans provided her with a history of jazz and brass; Nashville gave her a course on twang and rhythm, and Los Angeles brought everything together through experimentation, ambiance and attitude.

Ali Angel (Courtesy of Otter PR)

After working a life in retail, Angel found a chance opportunity to headline “mommy and me” music classes, which she has continued doing so for two years and counting. The strums, drums and sing-a-longs, the parachutes and bubbles all tend to become a part of the artist as a whole. She’s capable of transposing her outlook on life between age groups and genres to make each listener have a good time.

Being able to play music during the day and also have the flexibility to work on her original material has been perfect for crafting her sound and what genre she satisfies.

“It’s like the retro-soul-pop world … I love all of that music and I try to get my sound to fit in with that world,” she said.

Outside of retro-soul-pop, there is also some country twang present along with indie and classic rock and Americana. She’s able to display her versatility vocally and musically with seemingly no effort or straying from distinction. She’s taking the ’60s and ’70s and blending that generation’s sound with the strong female voice of the ‘90s, combining revolutions in a time when everything is coming back full circle – as is the case with music every 30 years (give or take).  

“I love the ‘70s, the liberation … just like taking independence and singing about topics that weren’t necessarily in the mainstream but doing it in creative ways and empowering ways. I love all of that. I also love the style, the aesthetics … I’m a huge vintage fan.”

Angel admitted her mother and father served as great musical influences with the songs they introduced her to as a child, and her vast knowledge and exposure to music guides her abilities. From The Dip to Spoon to Margo Price to Elton John to The Beatles to The Eagles to The Chicks to No Doubt to Jack Johnson and on and on, she has a plethora of inspirations. Yet, it always comes back to the scene. 

“And (s)he needs to be free, won’t somebody please, come and see about me.”

Los Angeles is a melting pot of musicians and other artists. It has always been a place to try and make it, or at least fake it until opportunities present themselves. Angel doesn’t view it as oversaturated competition, but rather a community, which serves as a benefit.

“Being from LA, it’s super lucky and helpful because you just know so many people who know so many people,” she explained. “Just putting myself out there and getting different contacts and writing with different people and just saying yes to everything.”

Ali Angel (Courtesy of Ali Angel)

She was able to connect with 606 Studio engineer Oliver Roman through a family friend. After an instant bond of musical tastes, Roman offered the support of his band Jaw Talk, and then an act was formed and has blossomed since. 

“I am most impressed by her dedication to learning and perfecting her skills as a writer, artist and musician,” Roman said. “Some artists are very private about their creative process, but Ali is always excited to hear something.”

He added, “Ali always comes in with new and fresh ideas. … I like the music we make together and I think other people will too.”

Though the pandemic has presented obstacles, as it has for all artists, Angel and Roman were able to overcome uncontrollable communication issues and keep recording until the music was finished.

“If we have to, I‘ll try, I think I like the slower climb.”

Using life situations, Angel tries to record every chance she gets when the idea is fresh, but also sometimes writes without intention. With good lyrics and great rhythm, there’s a solid balance of which holds more weight from song to song. The passion shifts depending on the emotional tone or tendencies, creating a full catalog, which is vital for any artist.

Angel released her debut single “Play Pretend” last year and the track defined her music right from the beginning. It not only captures her sound but her general outlook and vibe as well.

The song builds up nicely in each verse with flowing production elements that fit the brief vocal breaks, and the addition of soft chimes and whistles transitioning out of the brass background and into the slightly fuller chorus is a good complement. The key to a song with a beat like this is to keep it in motion and Angel executes this exceptionally. The listener can easily get lost in the music and the trance is only broken when the track ends.  

Her next release was a cover of Green’s “I’m A Ram.” Angel’s version dropped weeks ago. There are differences, however, so it’s not a straight cover which is refreshing. It’s also not a slower cover of a song that should never drastically lose tempo (in this specific case) for the sake of an artsy rendition – which has been trending for too long. Though releasing a cover early in a songwriter’s career can be risky, Angel didn’t offer a carbon copy like some artists do, and it worked because it fits her sound and her influences.

Ali Angel (Courtesy of Otter PR)

“It wasn’t really super intentional. I love Al Green and this is one of my favorite songs by him … and one day we kind of were just like you know what, it would be really fun and easy, we already have the whole thing down, to record a version of this. … It’s kind of a cool way to do a lesser known song from a legend and give it a new breath of fresh air.”

Green’s original has a more prominent brass presence, but Angel replaces those loud distinct notes found in the verses with slide guitar. Yet, the song doesn’t lose anything, and that is partially due to what fans have come to expect from her after her previous release. She obviously has no problem using brass but shows her versatility by not relying on it. The other difference is in the vocals. Green used his sharp vocal cuts and playful groans to jam with the long outro, but Angel takes the opportunity to showcase her range and ability to hit notes with ease.

“Extra Wild” was released on March 4. It’s clean, catchy, and all the small elements of the production blend together. The listener gets that great brass addition again, with a smooth and simple bass line that stands out, and there even – and this may be my ears playing tricks on me – seems to be a wave simulation subtly pulsing in the background. The highlight, however, is the sexy saxophone solo that emerges to keep the groove steady through the rest of the track.

Once again, Angel keeps the beat in motion, and the audience has no choice but to relax and enjoy the chill vibe.

“I’ve always wanted to do music that I Iove. … I feel like most successful artists in the past haven’t made music they thought people wanted to hear so they just wanted to make the music they wanted to make. I feel there is space for every kind of sound.”

Angel has certainly captured her own sound and the music translates to a broad audience. Her next release, “Middle Name,” will drop on April 8.

Kate Vargas Shines with “Rumpumpo” but Keeps the Darkness Close

~ Carl Lawrence Knauf ~ Leave a comment

“My drunk and disorderly Avenue B, you feel cold and everlasting, I keep coming back on account of my head, on account of my bad design.”
-Kate Vargas, “Mighty Fire”

The room should’ve had a haunting cloud of smoke resting heavily above the stage and crowd. The spotlight trapping the dust in the dimness would have to do. Kate Vargas smiled as she flicked her long colored nails against the strings of her acoustic, admiring the non-traditional clashes and brushes of her drummer’s small set of random extensions. Her sultry rasp bounced off the old concrete walls, echoing the darkness from within that she needed to share.

Kate Vargas has emerged as a major player in the alternative/singer-songwriter scene. With the support of a small ensemble of talented and established musicians such as Eric McFadden, the creativity behind her sound and the uniqueness of her vocals have fetched great accolades and some flattering comparisons to the likes of Tom Waits, Fiona Apple and Lana Del Rey.

Yet, they are them and she is her. Vargas digs deep into her past to converse with demons and make her lyrics personal and emotional while maintaining relatability to her listeners. Her approach is pure, dabbling with and revitalizing instruments found in heaps of uselessness and fortifying the deep imagery of her past and present.

Vargas said, “What I really want to do is just write songs and survive, and I’m doing that.”

She’s dark. She’s fun. She’s undeniably herself, which is something fresh and needed in the music world.

“I have pushed and shoved through life and love, just to stay afloat.”

Corrales, New Mexico is a small pseudo-rural cluster that borders Albuquerque, an escape from everything but within a tumbleweed’s roll of the chaos that hovers around. The eclectic villagers have clear views of the mountains rising far above and beyond the lush trees of the Bosque to the east and desert grounds sloping upward to hold the top of orange and purple sunsets to the west. It’s unlike anywhere else.

Kate Vargas

“It’s an artist and farmer village,” Vargas said of Corrales. “They have a pet parade and people will walk their pets down the road and sometimes dress them up, and there are llamas, and donkeys, and emus, and all kinds of things, and whoever wins is elected mayor for the day. That really sums up the vibe.”

Within the diverse beauty that each individual contributes to the village, Vargas embraced the arts and the scene that her personal boundaries would allow. She was, and still is, a classically-trained flautist. There was a fire inside that needed to be released, however, one of independent expression. It wasn’t a dislike of the flute that drove her to the guitar, it was her love for all music and determination to find the correct outlet. From the village’s studio where she learned to be a musician from Darryl Dominguez to community recitals showcasing her original material to Albuquerque’s Outpost Performance Space, Vargas had the resources to follow her passion.

“I had these adults in my life who were very supportive with what I was doing musically. [Darryl] really encouraged my writing, encouraged me to play a song that I had written at a recital. It really didn’t occur to me to do that.”   

However, the raw juvenile mind can be a dangerous seductress. The support wasn’t enough; she needed a way out from something. One such break booked her a trip to a boarding facility out of state as a teenager.

“You can’t get lower than the ground, but you can roll around for a long time.”

Vargas spent part of her adolescent life in Utah, away from her family in an attempt to curb her wild side, erase her days as a troublemaker. The temptation of vices was too strong as she constantly searched for an escape. Through her early obsession with Harry Houdini, it proved there was something that had troubled her for some time.  

She explained, “There was like a rumbling, a deep rumbling. We all have stuff growing up, and it just seemed like an easier way to not have to look at it or deal with it. None of us really want to be uncomfortable or face things that don’t feel good. It’s hard being a human, especially when you’re growing up, learning what it is to be alive.”   

Her upbringing, influences and mind attribute to her songwriting, but it was music that served as her life raft while the demons clawed and dragged her below the surface. She was moving too fast like a bullet train teetering on the edge of worn cracked rails, spiraling, drowning in doom, giving into the darkness she had become accustomed to relying on.

She’s now 10 years sober and counting.

“I remember that moment, it’s something I kind of have to remember. I had this real moment of clarity. I just saw myself as this kid growing up and where I imagined myself, and then I had let that kid down. I was actively harming myself and hurting the people in my life just because I wasn’t present. That was the big motivator.”

Though there was an unexplainable issue, the solution was always present. Reaching an epiphany, or multiple epiphanies at that, is important for an artist to accomplish. Vargas has roots as well as deep-seated psychological inspirations, negative and positive, she can access, whether consciously or not, to help her create. It comes out through her stories and poetry in songs about religion, addiction, relationships and just general musings of life. She’s not only a creator but a listener and absorber of stories, which helps her relate to audiences. Accepting and overcoming turmoil can be therapeutic for everyone.

“One day you will understand, the things we cherish most, we’ve got to hold them close, keep them locked away.”

A variety of contrasts have emerged from fans and critics, but that only supports the uniqueness of Vargas because it’s a diverse group of artists. McFadden, who is featured on Vargas’ 2021 album Rumpumpo, has worked with many amazing musicians and writers in his career that has spanned decades and revels in her matchlessness.

“Kate is pretty high up there,” McFadden compared Vargas’ abilities to other greats. “She’d have to be in the top two or three songwriters that I’ve ever had the privilege of working with. I think she’s one of the best songwriters of her generation.”    

Kate Vargas and Eric McFadden

McFadden, who also spent a good portion of his life in New Mexico, has toured with the likes of George Clinton and Eric Burdon and collaborated with artists ranging from Bo Diddly to Les Claypool to Pat McDonald among many other famed musicians and writers. The guitarist also has an extensive solo collection that he continues to build.

The New Mexico connection isn’t what brought McFadden and Vargas together at first, but it certainly helped strengthen their bond quicker. The two met at the Steel Bridge Songfest in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin. It wasn’t until their third festival together that they finally collaborated on a song.

“I was really taken by her,” McFadden said, “I thought, wow, this is brilliant. Her whole presence, and the lyrics, and her voice. There’s a lot to her creatively, a lot to her personally, emotionally; there’s a lot to know. She runs deep.”

Vargas’ ability to tell a story in minutes is a talent, just like for any singer-songwriter. To put it in perspective, authors claim that 100,000 words still isn’t enough to completely tell a story, but musicians only have around four minutes to convey their tale. No word is wasted, but when complemented with a musical virtuoso such as McFadden, it adds that other element to the story. Take classical music, for example. There are no lyrics, but a tale can still be heard within the notes.

“I’m learning a lot about writing and growing as a songwriter myself just from being in such close proximity to her. She’s honest and she’s authentic, but she’s also brilliant, she has great insight.”

Together, McFadden and Vargas mesh extremely well. During the pandemic, they started live streaming jam sessions and discussions on their show “Live From The Red Couch.” His invaluable industry experience, her vast musical knowledge and both their immense talent have created something special. The pair have perfected Vargas’ sound, and their passion and exceptional songwriting ability are on full display in her music.

“Backbone bless my weary knees, communion in the dust and leaves, wash my body and let it go.”

Vargas released her first three albums as an independent artist. It has become a strategy of many creators of late, and if they possess the perfect combination of uniqueness and quality, then they will be discovered. Her style has been labeled as dreampop, dusty folk and junkyard blues, but to bring simplicity to all the sub-genres that seem to appear with each new act that becomes popular, Vargas is a folk singer-songwriter.

Now, to contradict the above, she also has a southern gothic sound present that you find from artists such as Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Parker Millsap and Grace Potter. She captures the topics, deep lyrics and catchy bluesy rhythms, but adds her irreplaceable vocals. Though comparisons are the best way for the industry to describe an artist, especially an emerging one, Vargas truly constructs a range of elements that make her authentic.

This process, this genuineness and creativity, charmed Bandaloop Records founder Bill Hutchinson. He started his company in 1998 with the goal to seek out great lyricists, melodic composers and live performers, giving unknown artists an opportunity to showcase their talents to more audiences.

After listening to musicians slated to perform at AmericanaFest in Nashville, he came across Vargas during his scouting and knew he had to talk to her immediately, even before seeing her perform.    

Kate Vargas

Hutchinson said, “Kate stopped me in my tracks. Then there was her distinctive voice. She had everything I was looking for. Songs, great lyrics, a great live show, a winning personality, and the desire to put in the work necessary to get ahead.”

Hutchinson praised the amount of energy she has in the studio, and that is shown through her passionate lyrics and artistic composition. Her drive, focus and hands-on involvement during recording have proven her dedication to her craft, and she set the tone early for how far she wants to grow in the industry.

“Kate’s just getting started and, really, there’s no limit to what she can accomplish,” Hutchinson expressed.

The major outlets and big names have taken notice, and her music is rightfully raved within many circles—even when it comes to lowly independent journalists. There’s a certain respect due.

“It’s a chronic, a hypnotic kind of aching.”

The pandemic was rough on Vargas. Any artist knows that their mind is in desperate need to be occupied and spending too much time with their thoughts can be detrimental. She found herself in Los Angeles with her hands on Jackson Browne’s guitar and her mind on Newton’s first law.

Her constant motion helped guide the release of her label debut with Bandaloop Records, Rumpumpo, this year. It is her first album in three years, fourth overall, and the intention was simply to provide audiences with good, well-executed art. Rumpumpo gives listeners everything they need to know about Vargas in 11 songs—if they are willing and ready.

McFadden said of Rumpumpo, “Kate’s album is a gem. Anyone that stumbles upon Kate’s latest record is like finding a buried treasure.”

The title track not only displays her distinct sound and the creativity involved but how open she is about vices and addiction and the ability to tell a story, almost masking the depth of the words with a whimsical beat that doesn’t fit the lyrical content. That is on purpose and it’s very difficult for musicians to achieve. It eases the heaviness in a way so the listener can withstand processing each little bit, lyrically and musically, without being deterred. In addition, around the 2:30 mark, a Spanish-influenced solo is inserted into the jazzy, gypsy-like beat that on the surface doesn’t make sense, but strangely fits. Her influences, past and style are all on display. Maybe the listener doesn’t actually need 11 songs.

Luckily for them, there are. “Honeydipper” showcases her flexibility as a vocalist. The rasping isn’t an act but can be contained, and there’s a hint of southern twang that comes out at times. “Left Shoe” continues her ability to keep an infectious beat, and then she slows things down with “Everything Forever,” the first ballad on the album.      

“After the song is done, it’s exciting,” Vargas said about the writing process. “I said something that I’ve wanted to say or I expressed this thing in a way that feels really true to me. It’s really like a birthing. It can take anywhere from, for me, a couple days to a couple years.”  

She wants to get to the heart of each song while in the studio, which helps create an experience with each track and album. Structure and balance are vital to both. Vargas is able to capture the essence of her own music and give listeners something of everything. “Animal” and “Split 3 Times” bring back to the toe-tapping melodies and thought-provoking lyrics, but then the overlooked hit of the album emerges.

“Someday” is a seemingly basic slower track, but it’s the subtle build-up throughout that enchants the listener. Also, the lyrics aren’t overpowered by tempo or rhythm, allowing them to absorb the message clearer. If there was ever a song to either wander a dusty trail as the sun curves from horizon to horizon or sit in a rocking chair on a front porch and stare up at the clear stars while pondering life between long blinks, this would be a contender.    

“Church of the Misdirection” and “Glorieta to the Holy Place” sandwich the descriptive track “Lighter” on the listing, but the two religion-based songs have drawn attention—especially from New Mexicans. Vargas dives deep into the memories of her childhood and the role Catholicism played during her upbringing, using that southern gothic sound that complements the topic flawlessly. Though it’s been concentrated on in regard to Rumpumpo, Vargas has done this before, even back on her first album in 2014, Down to My Soul, with the track “Sisters of Loretto.”

Kate Vargas

This is something that makes Vargas special. Unintentionally, she immerses listeners in a situation from a child’s perspective, which is to be considered innocent, to try to make sense of life aspects that are confusing then and now. On the contrary, when it comes to her time as a teenager and the dark years that followed, she uses her experiences to create stories and provide clarity and hope.

Rumpumpo ends with “Like Apollo” which sums up everything the listener just experienced with a bluesy rock conclusion to this specific part of Vargas’ journey. And it’s left with an open ending like any good series.

Vargas has evolved without abandoning her sound. However, nothing sounds exactly the same which some acts fall victim to. The subtle progression within one’s own catalog is an art in itself.

After Down to My Soul, Vargas released Strangeclaw in 2016 and For the Wolfish & Wandering in 2018 which includes her most popular song, “7 Inches.” Each album contains a fitting first track, especially “Roll Around” off For the Wolfish & Wandering. It possesses the same personal tone as the title track off her debut back in 2014.

This proves her commitment to her sound and lyrical intention, but she also is not only influenced by her experiences but time periods, and also by the changeability of emotion. “The Truth About the Heart” has a ‘90’s rock feel all over it, and “November” is a prime example of her ability to capture the essence of a slow emotional song. Both tracks can also be found on For The Wolfish & Wandering.

No matter which point a new listener starts their journey into Vargas’ catalog, they will receive everything she’s about.

“There was a time that now I can hardly remember.”       

Vargas wrote about her future in her essay “Self-Help is an Oxymoron” in Atwood Magazine, explaining that her inability to meet her potential is “a temporary state that’s lasted my whole life thus far” before promoting confidence to overcome her back-and-forth thoughts.

What a fantastic saying. Perhaps this must be said because it eases the battle with her ego. An ego doesn’t always boast conceitedness but can also express negative feelings toward oneself because of failure to meet what the ego believes is the bar. She has been open about her feelings and issues, even away from the stage, but no matter the internal debate, the outside world recognizes her impending success.

McFadden added, “Kate is an artist who I think will have longevity and keep rising because of her talent. She’s the real deal.” 

Vargas is an enigma in a sense when it comes to the way she writes. Her music is a necessity, not just for her fans, but for herself. This is in no way a professional psychological analysis, but how she changes perspective to drive home a point, whether intentional or unintentional, is interesting. The confusion she addresses about religion from the pure mind of a child, the damaging vices she battles in the midst of teenage angst, and the reflection on the past that only an adult who has found clarity can offer are all present in her lyrics at some point—and there’s a lot in between as well.

Vargas said, “When I was on the path of total self-destruction, I wasn’t writing that much, and when I was, I wasn’t writing the way that I wanted to. Nothing really felt true to me. I was not doing what I was meant to do, I wasn’t doing it at all, and now I am, and that feels right where I want to be. I just want to survive.” 

Her darkness, her eclectic perspective and her passion for her craft combine to create something utterly distinctive and of the utmost quality. Music: the answer was inside all along for Vargas. She has shared her solution and her calling, and will do so for a very long time to come.

John Thompson was a Legend who just Happened to Coach Basketball

was
~ Carl Lawrence Knauf ~ Leave a comment

“In a world that has decided that it’s going to lose it’ mind, be more kind, my friends, try to be more kind.”
-Frank Turner, “Be More Kind”

I was born in Georgetown Hospital. This small, cone-headed, jaundice-riddled person entered a world that was damaged. Society, as it remains, was just as confused as a newborn, but certain figures were bigger than the world, larger than society itself in a sense. Georgetown University’s old head men’s college basketball coach John Thompson was a trailblazer, and his contributions off the basketball court were what made him legendary. 

“Real power is defined by the capacity to think and excel in various situations.”

p. 2

I was just an infant staring at flickering lights when the Georgetown Hoyas hit their prime as a dominant college basketball program. Four family members are alums, so I was born into adoration for the university. Though I have lived in four other states, one for much longer than the others, I still consider D.C. as my hometown. And that’s partially due to the impactful history that constantly surrounds the area.

Though John Thompson (1941-2020) wasn’t a politician, he had more of a presence in a city run by glorified salesmen and –women—a difference maker among people who should have been making a difference. Basketball was an escape for him, and after a great college career at Providence and a professional stint backing up Bill Russell on the Boston Celtics, Thompson returned to his hometown to form the most important aspect of his career: change. I Came As A Shadow isn’t just an autobiography, it’s a message.

Thompson passed away just days before his 79th birthday. The book was released four months after his death. We finally got to know the man behind the legend when he was no longer able to defend his actions. After reading I Came As A Shadow, there was no criticism to refute. He left the world with everything on the table, and it’s accepted as is. 

“As a person of some significance, I have two ways to make somebody else important. I can make them my friend, or I can make them my enemy.”

p. 116

We are in a sensitive time. The public has become more vocal about issues, especially when it comes to civil rights. Of course, technology and modern platforms have allowed expression to over-saturate the world, which has provided both positive and negative reactions. The argument for either is for another time and another person. This discussion is about how Thompson altered the outlook of society in various aspects.

Born into uncontrollably modest conditions, the famed coach explained how, at that time, it was normal. As a persecuted youth, his mindset began to shift, and realized that, though a very ugly truth, the color of your skin shouldn’t depict how a person is treated. He persevered through patience and expressing himself when the time was right. It could be argued that every situation warranted an opinion then, but practical awareness was wisely exercised. If his emotions overtook him every time racism was exposed, like revolutionaries do in the modern era, the opportunity to change the world would have been taken away much earlier than ever being presented.    

Each generation has its own struggle, and many representatives from respective eras turn that into a competition that has no victor. But with each struggle comes a strategy to promote progression. The point of an autobiography is not only to educate and tell a story, it’s to provide a relation for an audience to discover, process and eventually further the conversation. It gives us meaning beyond the author/subject. It gives us perspective.  

 “A great player is not great because he’s rational. He’s great because he’s irrational.”

p. 263

Sports are occasionally demeaned by those who show no interest in the athletic arts. It’s a fair assumption at times; everyone tends to write off interests that they have little knowledge or understanding of.

I Came as a Shadow gives readers a behind-the-scenes experience of Thompson’s life. The purpose of the autobiography is to teach, and that was Thompson’s purpose. The work is chronological; it begins with his childhood which sets the tone of perseverance and perspective. Those first 13 pages, combined with what we’re witnessing in other parts of the world at this moment, should make someone think, “Is my life really that bad?”

Hardship is relative and should be respected, however. Basketball became a platform for Thompson and it led to vital relationships to his development as a man. This is the how the autobiography’s structure coincides evolution three-fold. Thompson’s evolution under the guidance of people like Red Auerbach and Dean Smith, his player’s evolution under his tutelage as a coach and father figure, and then society’s evolution from the stances his presence demanded and executed.

It wasn’t just the major names that shaped Thompson, but the minor characters he encountered in life, and through those experiences, he was able to pass along his knowledge to the youth. He always took chances because, as a black man in the time that he lived, he had to. There was no waiting around for change; sacrifices had to be made, decisions had to be calculated and concrete, and failure had to be accepted and used.

His experiences at Georgetown and his influence beyond the university were massive. The Big East, D.C., the black community and other minorities, women and children, the nation and his players all benefited from the chances he took. When he spoke of Patrick Ewing, Alonzo Mourning, Dikembe Moutombo and Allen Iverson, he wasn’t just talking about their freakish skill and impact on the court, he was discussing their journey to become the men they did and earning their success as a person not a player. Thompson was more proud of the advancment of the man not the athlete.

For example, when reminiscing about Reggie Williams, Thompson explained, “But what happened to Reggie is part of the value and beauty of sports. It exposes you to things that will happen in the rest of your life” (p. 180).

Iverson has mentioned more than once that Thompson saved his life, and when looking at the Hall-of-Fame guard’s past, the accolade can be viewed figuratively and literally. Sports mean a whole lot to a whole lot of people, and if someone looks beyond the game, they will understand the vast importance of athletics.

“I Believe that genius borrows nobly.”           

p. 129

I Came As a Shadow is an important book everyone should read because it’s historical, will educate, and most importantly, provide perspective. Though Jesse Washington is an esteemed and excellent writer and journalist, he took on the role of listener and consultant. The book is written as if the reader is having a conversation—or rather listening to a monologue—with Thompson; the audience experiences his syntax and context, and if familiar with the man’s public image, can imagine his monotone drawl and visualize his poised mannerisms. This is what Thompson wanted. His way, his voice, just sit there and listen, whether that’s Washington, me, you, or anybody.

Washington wrote in his preface, “Coach Thompson made no small talk when I arrived; there was no conversational layup line to warm up for the writing of his autobiography. He started in a full-court press, flooding my recorder with a wide range of stories. His gaze was penetrating, challenging, and occasionally amused by all the things I did not yet understand” (p. xi).

Even how much Thompson was in the limelight, the book exposed a private side that only some of his closest peers were aware existed. No one really understood. Though his involvement in certain civil rights movements and black progression was well-known, the level of influence and impact was surprising across a plethora of spheres. He was a leader, and it wasn’t because he was a coach, it’s because it became clear he was a massive figure in promoting equality and societal development in areas such as equal rights and opportunities, extreme poverty, education and business.

Readers shouldn’t view this as a sports book. Yes, Thompson coached basketball, and yes, Washington is a sportswriter, but like the subject himself, the book is bigger than the category. Washington is a great journalist who just happens to write about sports. Thompson was a trailblazer, a mentor, a legend who just happened to coach basketball. His autobiography is about human affairs, the waxes and wanes of life, altering the future of society that just happens to be in the sports section of a bookstore.

Thank you for everything, John Thompson. Rest in peace.

Ivory Lake Glistens on the Surface, but the Darkness Runs Deep

~ Carl Lawrence Knauf ~ Leave a comment

“Blue thumbs and hearts, put them in a line and sniff them all up, the new cocaine without the shame.”
-Ivory Lake, “My Phone”

The embedded screams of abuse remain stationed in his memory as Josh Watts bashes sticks and hammers pedals against the plastic skin that surrounds him. A sound that was once absorbed in the womb to be rediscovered 14 years later through the pulsing rhythmic influence of Lars Urlich has now consumed his limbs as an adult. He was lost but found sanctity in applause.   

Watts is all of Ivory Lake. The talented young musician composes for and creates on each instrument during production of his original material. For live shows, he has assembled a grouping from the deep talent pools England and Spain have to offer that embodies chemistry like only musicians can. His drive and the obstacles he has had to overcome have formed a budding artist in the alternative/indie pop scene.

Labels, however, are meant for industry, and occasionally the mood of the sound overpowers the meaning of the lyrics. With influences that range from the Beach Boys to Metallica, Watts has accomplished a rare blend of style that has the possibility of broadening his listeners.

“To be able to give people some kind of meaning would be an amazing place to be,” Watts said.

He has the platform to showcase his abilities and now he yearns to share meaning with new audiences. He needs to share his story to satisfy an understandably involved, somewhat damaged mind.

“They’ll never remember, they might just remember.”

Ivory Lake is a beautiful backcountry part of the Waitaha River in the west coast region of New Zealand. The water is surrounded by mountains, like an exclusive spring reward for only the most devoted of campers and hikers. It’s somewhere Watts had never heard of before, but a glowing rippling pool one evening ignited his imagination as he visualized elephant tusks stabbing the water. Capturing inspiration is part of his creative process.

With English and Jamaican heritage running through his veins, Watts spent a majority of his childhood in Crookes outside of Sheffield, England—and his father spent the majority of Watts’ childhood in prison. His mother, on the other hand, was a musician and played in a band with her sister. Treacle was an all-female melodic rock band, and Watts’ mother managed the drums and provided vocals—something that was obviously passed down.

Josh Watts

Watts recalled, “I can always remember the sound of them rehearsing in my grandparents’ cellar. After they were finished and my mom would let me have a bash on her drum kit, that was always the best bit for me.”

That beat, that sound that resonated upward through the floorboards, whether performed on an amplifier or streamed out of speakers, wasn’t just meant to influence, but rather drown out the issues young children should never be exposed to. Watts, along with his brother and sister, were forced beyond their control to listen to the vulgar words and witness the physical assault of domestic violence.

“We could always hear what was going on. We weren’t physically abused, it was more psychological. You have to understand the effect that seeing the person you love most getting their head slammed into a flight of stairs has on a young child; it’s something I relive almost daily. I know the victim is my mother, and I can’t speak to her experience, only mine and being five years old and frozen at the top of the stairs, unable to help or move or even speak. It’s the absolute worst feeling I have ever felt and I regret not being able to help to this day, even though I know I couldn’t have if I tried.”   

Though memories struggle to exit, forms of relief have the ability to enter the mind. Music has been an outlet for Watts in order to curb the anger and release his thoughts. It has reduced the pressure of recollection and given direction to simmering uncertainty.

“You expected the pain, but you didn’t expect to feel like this.”

Pain can be an enhancer when it comes to lyrical composition, but also a hindrance to expansion if not blended into the sound correctly. Another obstacle Watts has had to overcome is the fact that he is dyslexic.

During grade school, he began struggling with core subjects such as literature and math; it was frustrating to make sense of what others seemed to solve with ease. He was an outsider without an answer until being formally diagnosed at 12, a year after moving to Spain with his mother and siblings.

The relocation was needed after the violence had become too much to deal with and his struggle in the classroom were just an added obstruction at an important developmental phase of life. Just like his mother rightfully fleeing from the abuse, Watts had to address his disorder to pursue his dreams as a composer. 

“It’s like there’s a jigsaw puzzle in my head but none of the pieces look like they fit,” Watts shared. “My songs still have the meta narrative, but then there might be references to 12 completely unrelated stories that only I know about in there—which I think can help open the songs to the listener’s own perspective.”

His songwriting has found a home in alternative/indie pop, which helps tremendously with a jumbled mind. The style is experimental at times, and if properly contained, albeit contradictory liberal, the blend of sound and voice has the ability to branch out from the norm without straying from structure and theory. Occasionally, a listener will be entranced by the standard poppy cadence, chord progression and major-key positive emotions and fail to process the darkness of the words. On the contrary, if revealed by the ear, the lyrics may be more accepted with a broader emotional response. It’s different than falling victim to complete sadness through minor bleak signatures and depressing stories—which there’s a time and place for when sought. In a sense, and this is by no means a professional analysis, the blend of different styles and themes is a form of stabilizing an unrelated unbalance.     

Watts’ music could also be derived from a subconscious connection to his mother’s ‘90’s melodies. They both had to overcome obstacles and found hope and promise of new beginnings at the same time. In addition, music has the tendency to repeat itself every thirty years, not necessarily the sound, but the resemblance, attitude and meaning. Perhaps it’s the generational bond between parent and child that creates these era revolutions, or perhaps it’s the shared influences of adult and youth listeners under the same roof.  

“You couldn’t help the ones you loved, but now you learned that love is hard.”

Watts saw his first concert when he was 14, which happened to be Metallica during their World Magnetic Tour. Metallica didn’t truly find mainstream success until the early-‘90s when Watts was exposed to not just his mother’s music, but other artists of the time.

Along with the heavy metal idols, Queensryche didn’t find mainstream success until around the same time in the late-80s—though their foundation happened in the late-70s. Their records were successful enough the decade between to keep afloat before becoming an act that still tours to this day. Yet, along with Metallica, the band found prominent radio success in the early-90s.

Ex-lead singer Geoff Tate was an important part of Queensryche’s earlier success, but has since sought solo endeavors. Enter influence and opportunity for Watts. The drummer was selected to play for Tate’s band during the singer’s 2019 tour. Watts performed over 100 shows in 26 countries in just six months.

Watts (drummer) on tour with Geoff Tate’s band.

Tate said of Watts, “He’s a talented singer and songwriter as well as an incredibly solid drummer. He’s been able to play all the Queensryche material so well, and that’s serious stuff for a drummer.”

Landing a spot on Tate’s act was vital for Watts’ exposure to not only the industry but the experience of a major tour and performance fresh into his songwriting—even before releasing any material. He was able to bond with other artists and build a strong network by relying on his personality and skill. He benefited from staying true to himself.

“Josh Watts is so easygoing and such a pleasure to work with,” Tate added. “He’s all about the music all the time.”

Through inspiration, influence and first-hand knowledge, Watts has received a better understanding of sound and structure which has led to the construction of quality songs.  

“I wanted to sleep, my head wouldn’t let me, I thought about the way you see me, and why don’t you hate me.”

Though his influences could be traced back to ‘80’s and ‘90’s metal, his sound varies from the heavy distortion and monotone vocals of the high-octane genre. Yet, the deep dark lyrical themes remain. Enter inspiration. And don’t forget the underrated alternative melodies of the ‘90s and ‘00s which was found in Treacle’s sound. Though Watts has difficulty listening to songs that were meant to drown out the abuse to this day, inspiration was maintained.

Besides the connection, the words and hints of past melody, Watts has been able to use his modern influences to shape his style. Artists such as the 1975, Tame Impala, Father John Misty and Phoebe Bridgers have all served as inspirations on his path to crafting his idiosyncratic alt pop craft.

Watts explained, “Although the music I write is on the lighter side of things, a lot of my lyrics could be classified as heavy in a way. Light, fun and interesting with darker subject matter.”

There is a complex method to the madness. Humble enough to not claim expertise on any one instrument, Watts considers himself competent enough to write and play the drums, piano, guitar and bass. He’s a dedicated father to two small children, so the free gaps in the day are meant for practice and creation whenever presented. Therefore, a majority of his composition comes while alone in the dark hours of the evening. He is, however, unapologetically and undeniably himself during his practice, and also understands that in an ever-changing world, there’s always room for growth, and adaptation is necessary to survive genre and personal shifts. Change is inevitable and can affect the whole process from draft to final cut, and an artist must be open to critique and alterations that produce the best track possible.

Writing alone can only take an artist so far. Currently, Watts works with The Animal Farm records in London and producers Mat and Ville Leppanen (Alien Feelings, Alex Goupil, Seprona), and he recognizes the great contributions of the company, including maintaining an assembly to his songs when the drafts can be all over the place.

The Leppanen brothers said of Watts, “We’ve found it very motivating to work with Josh because he’s a talented, skillful and versatile musician with great work ethic. It’s always a pleasure to work with people like that.”

Josh Watts

Watts touched on composing, “I don’t really have any structure to my writing, and my lyrics can be complicated, putting them together in my own dyslexic way. I like it that way because it leaves a little wiggle room for the listener’s interpretation, and I think in music that is a huge part of what makes people feel connected to the song.”

Ivory Lake has three songs out now and commitment to the craft can be found in each one.

“Nothing here is physical to you.”

The COVID-19 pandemic was bittersweet for Watts, as it was for others. Many people suffered tremendously dealing with various forms of loss, but it also offered perspective. Watts used his unexpected free time to first spend quality time with his family, but also find himself as an artist and experiment as a songwriter, mastering his craft.

In 2021, Ivory Lake released three singles, “Pillows,” “Lazy” and “My Phone.” The debut EP features “Pillows” as the title track, and the song is a great example of what Watts is going for with his sound. Structurally, it’s fantastic. A high-octave, slow-tempo soft piano intro transitions into Watts’ indulgent melodic vocals and strumming of an acoustic guitar. The build-up is what is key here, though soft, about a minute in, the listener experiences that familiar indie pop piano chord progression found in bands like Jukebox the Ghost. The song is then in full compilation as the verse flows into the chorus.          

“I’m most proud of ‘Pillows,’ Watts admitted. “It’s the song that took me the longest to write and it really came together in a beautiful way.”

Musically, the song is beautiful, but lyrically, it’s deceptive. The theme is the effect domestic violence has on children who witness the assault; it’s a very personal song to Watts. The key, tone and tempo all promote joy, but the theme of the words is dark. The listener is experiencing a moment; not the violence itself, but the mental consequence that affects others. The sound is purposely meant to soothe the situation, almost saying it will be “all right.” With the decreasing dynamics of the bridge vocals and the comforting brief guitar solo that follows, it’s like the audience is under the pillow as well. The music stands for avoidance and misdirection while the lyrics serve as a reminder that the memory is always present, with hope to primarily be dormant. The structure of the song is the in-and-out of a traumatic situation. The coda then matches that lovely intro.

“Lazy” begins with a similar cadence, now cementing part of Ivory Lake’s style. The light intro rhythm becomes the verse, and then there’s a nice pick-up in vocal and musical timbre during the pre-chorus. The transition into the chorus flows perfectly, and the additional elements during the shift out of the chorus and into the second verse are done well. The theme of the song is depression and the vicious cycle the mind gets trapped in, consuming a person with the lack of motivation. However, the tone and tempo of the music and Watts’ vocals capture the mood of attempting to lift out of the state. Yet, the character apologetically succumbs to depression though the will to rise is there, but just can’t be found. The words are the disorder; the music is the cure yet to be discovered.

The last single, “My Phone,” shows Ivory Lake’s versatility, primarily in sound and tempo. It also displays Watts’ ability to flawlessly construct a pop song. “Pillows” may be Watts’ favorite song, but “My Phone” is an absolute hit. In each part of the track’s structure, the elements provide catchiness among the subtle differences. This is a record that could be played in a variety of settings. Lyrically, it’s fantastic. The words are relevant to modern society and relationships and how technology has consumed many, and could potentially replace the most human of emotions and traits. The “happy” beat masks a different trouble, not one of personal adversity or obstacles, but rather the problems society is creating for itself.

Even though Ivory Lake has a catalog of just three songs, future releases should be greatly anticipated by listeners.    

“Don’t tell me just how it ends when I don’t know where to begin.”

Watts has the ability to take Ivory Lake far in the industry. He is an excellent musician, a great songwriter, and already has major performance and touring experience serving as the drummer for Tate. 

“I have listened to and enjoyed his solo material,” Tate shared about Watts. “I see nothing but success for him in the future.”

The multi-talented singer-songwriter realizes the effort that must be put toward his goals. His dedication is proven, his abilities have been showcased, but he also understands that balance is a necessity. Luckily for Watts, music also serves as a form of decompression, a relief from his anxiety.

Josh Watts

“I have a very busy mind that often evolves into panic attacks,” Watts confessed. “So when I’m creating something, it’s the only time I can really feel my mind go quiet and go into auto pilot.”

That, and his love for exotic animals. From years spent watching Steve Irwin and David Attenborough as a child, Watts began collecting unusual species. Iguanas, tortoises, terrapins, snakes, leopard geckos, salamanders, tropical fish and tarantulas among many others were always of the utmost interest to him. Witnessing the beauty and magic of the life cycle became a side passion, a different avenue to channel his emotions and thoughts.

We all have our idiosyncrasies that lead to ascertaining some idea of significance, and whatever Watts is doing, it’s working. His overall approach to life is admirable, maintaining a warm heart though a product of a troubled past and damaged mind beyond his control, and making sure his children are never exposed to the same issues. The perseverance to overcome and find meaning in art, discovering splendor in the darkness, and recognizing that deep-seated gloom is always present have shaped his sound and personality. Watts’ life created Ivory Lake. His creation has no ceiling.

“My drive comes from self-loathing and not believing I’m good enough, it just makes me try harder and put in the hours. I can only really hope to sprinkle a little bit of who I am as a person into the genre and watch it unfold from there,” Watts said. “There is no telling where it will go but I’m excited to find out.”

He has done his best, he has tried, and listeners are rewarded for that. This is only the beginning, and we all have been given perspective to reflect upon through Ivory Lake’s music and Josh Watts’ story.

Derek Raymond’s Revolutionary Factory Series went too far, and that’s Exactly What was Needed

~ Carl Lawrence Knauf ~ Leave a comment

“It seems that all that was good has died, And is decaying in me.”
-Disturbed, “Down with the Sickness”

Hardboiled crime is a special genre. Derek Raymond, the founder of British Noir, took it to a whole new level with his Factory series. Nothing was like it before, and nothing has been like it since. It also includes the design of one of the most heinous fictional crimes in the history of all entertainment.

“After all, hatred of a person is a form of interest in him, and I repay that interest with curiosity.”

He Died With His Eyes Open, p. 198

Raymond, born Robert William Arthur Cook, created a simple character in the Factory series: an unnamed sergeant. This man, the one the reader knows as Noir’s classic unlikable protagonist, works for the A14 division of London’s Metropolitan Police. Or, as the branch is also known as, the Department of Unexplained Deaths.

The author sets the stage in development, but its simplicity is genius. Raymond gives us a man with no name who handles grotesque murders with no apparent motive, suspect, worthy victim or sufficient evidence. The nameless can’t be explained just like the deaths he is assigned—a perfect love affair between character and cause. It also subtly alludes to the fact, through crime as a metaphor, that persons of power and popularity chose prestige, like picking the most athletic kid on the playground first while leaving the ugly scraps for the less important who dwell in lower, unclaimed societal statuses.    

The series begins with He Died With His Eyes Open (1984). This not only remains the best title of the grouping, but perhaps one of the best hardboiled crime books ever written. It changed the genre by inserting philosophical thought into a style that was normally structured for fast-paced entertainment with little depth. However, it didn’t stray from the standard characteristics of the literary category which is fascinating. It still gave readers mystery, bleakness, wit and sharp tongues, but added the element of furthering the discussion after the last page. It made readers think.

The remaining titles in the five-book series include, in order: The Devil’s Home on Leave (1985), How the Dead Live (1986), I Was Dora Suarez (1990) and Dead Man Upright (1993).

One aspect of the series is that the crimes, though all gruesome, progressively get worse or stranger. Nothing will ever compare to what happened in I Was Dora Suarez, however. 

“I go where the ghosts are, I go where the evil is.”

The Devil’s Home on Leave, p. 30

Raymond’s narrative goes deep below the surface of just a shocking crime and the path to resolution and closure. There, in fact, is no closure after each respective case file is sealed because the crimes are parallel with the unnamed sergeant’s, as well as the suspects’ he pursues, thoughts on society.

In his personal life, Raymond made it public that he did not particularly fit in with the upper crust he was thrust upon from birth. He challenged his upbringing constantly, and his escape became writing. With the passion he wrote with and the topics he brought to light through controversial creativity, he established a signature dialogue. Whether said dialogue was portrayed as negative or positive is a rather moot point because if an author can form a discussion without being involved, then they have produced something impactful.

Raymond’s literary work focuses on the ugliness of society. The platform and genre he chose was a perfect foundation because it reached an audience and demographic that was ripe for unexpected influence; it put readers in an urban landscape, immersing them on the streets where many found an either direct or indirect relation. An interaction they were accustomed to or wanted to understand on another level.

Anna Pasolini, contributing author of Serial Crime Fiction (2015) wrote, “The five novels included in the Factory series encompass the core issues in Raymond’s literary and political project: a representation of the margins of society and of its evils aimed at uncovering and overthrowing the power relations embedded beneath its apparently plain surface” (p. 144).

The author’s transition from crime to crime increased the severity of his underlying message beneath the prose. It’s as if readers experienced Raymond’s transformation from frustration to absolute disgust. It wasn’t expected, but it was needed and welcomed; it was a literary fit decades in the making. Yet, even among readers who aren’t fazed by the most shocking illustrations, the descriptions of the unimaginable acts—details that may question Raymond’s overall sanity and own sociopathic nature—in I Was Dora Suarez and Dead Man Upright may have gone too far.

Still, it was needed and welcomed.

“Reality is to be questioned, not accepted. Matter dangles on a rail, drawn and dark like a curtain or an overdraft. Our state is an unending crises and the invisible, crammed with errors, crashes through us.”

How the Dead Live, p. 189

The controversial crimes in the last two novels of the series are unsettling, the most disturbing on display in I Was Dora Suarez. It wasn’t necessarily the crime itself, though ghastly beyond the imagination; it was the whole process of the performance. The victim was dismembered and her open wounds were violated, but the multiple forms of defecation by the assailant and his masochistic self-mutilation was what left chills. Somehow, halfway through the book, it got worse during an autopsy, and the final scene brought back the bumps. To put it in perspective, if this was ever made into a modern film, or even adapted to a case for crime television, the crime couldn’t be shown or even spoke of without a non-pornographic rating above “R” or “TV-MA.”

However, the unimaginable, yet strangely outstanding criminal concept behind the act, was where Raymond’s creativity shined. It was amazing this was never conjured before. Perhaps there are better word choices than the accolades, if taken in such a way, for the storyline, but it’s not the situation that deserves praise, it’s the fact that it was created, used and presented as a viable disgusting possibility during this time period, and actually captured a major issue that was trending in society.

With the addition of the crime(s) in Dead Man Upright, Raymond’s imagination must be addressed. He was not a sociopathic person as some could assume just from reading his words. He was quite colorful and emotional, on the contrary. I Was Dora Suarez broke the author; the book was a difficult burden, but a task he had to complete, only to realize what he had done after the fact. His reaction to his own work, his empathetic behavior to a fictional situation proves he was not sociopathic.

He said in his memoir, The Hidden Files (1992), “I know I wondered half way through Suarez if I would get through—I mean, if my reason would get through. For the trouble with an experience like Suarez is that you become what you’re writing” (p. 133).

The plot changed him and it was apparent in his shift of writing, even the shift of the unnamed sergeant’s life.

“Each to me, even some killers, have been men or women deprived of any reason for going on—children even, sometimes—and one bright desperate day they awake and say to themselves, ‘I’ll end it,’ and they write themselves off in one single stroke of negative, savage joy, since there was nobody to meet them at the station.”

I Was Dora Suarez, pp. 129-130

Each novel, or “black novel” as they have earned the moniker, in the Factory Series offers something unique and addresses different aspects of society and mentality.

He Died With His Eyes Open helps us understand the unnamed sergeant and his bleak outlook on life. This is most apparent has he absorbs the recordings left behind by the bludgeoned victim and relates to the viewpoint. The reader gets a feel for not only the character’s personality, but also the true setting and issues revolving around that time in London. This is the best title in the series because, and I will repeat, it brought philosophical thought into hardboiled crime.

The Devil’s Home on Leave delves deeper into mental health; though it was a theme throughout the series, this was more specific and involved post-traumatic stress and literal and figurative forms of addiction. It also involved power and status. A deranged hitman has been done and will continue to be done in the genre, but the metaphor for how the crook was used and by whom, his techniques and backstory are a direct reflection on societal standing and trauma. For reference, Raymond, as Cook, was a corporal in the National Service. Though good, this title is the fifth best in the series.

How the Dead Live gives the reader love in a loveless world. The story almost didn’t fit, but after the reader processes the message, it almost fits too well. There is love and beauty in death, there is devotion in the most disturbing of ways. Also, this is where the reader gains more insight into the personality and life of the unnamed sergeant. He is being developed with more understanding of reason and humanizing the otherwise overlooked lowlifes and unwittingly banished now-reclusive ex-socialites, showing admiration for the enemy. He gave life to people through death. An underrated title, this is the third best in the series.

I Was Dora Suarez pushed the limits of everything. There isn’t much more to be said that hasn’t been mentioned. The book was repulsive to the point where Raymond’s publisher at the time vomited over his desk while reading the draft and immediately told him to take the work elsewhere. Yet, the underlying message was that of societal contamination in a variety of aspects. What the book did give us is even more depth to the unnamed sergeant; it gave him deep sympathy and meaning to his own life. It gave him a reason for redemption not only for the victim, but to fill the voids and pain present from the demons and memory he personally possessed. Despite the criticism, this is the second best title in the series, and not because of the shocking crime.

Dead Man Upright gave the reader what has been overdone: a look into the psyche of a serial killer. It also, and somewhat expectedly, used a snuff film as evidence—which is why it’s the second most disturbing of the series’ acts. It wasn’t the first work to examine the mind of an unhinged psychopath, and it probably has been more overdone since and not before, but it was different and extensive for the genre. The intention of the book, however, may not have been to just provide a form of entertainment, but rather closure to the mystery that was the unnamed sergeant. It gave answers; it gave readers deeper looks into reoccurring characters, or for the main character, relationships and significance in the world. The ultimate summary in metaphor: the killer was society and the unnamed sergeant was the counter thought. The title was the fourth best in the series, but vital to the masterpiece as a whole.

Raymond explained, “A special mood is necessary to make language plastic enough to convey such experience exactly; experience so devastatingly simple that, like love, it verges on the indescribable. Nearly every attempt to convey it can really only be described as another endless series of attempts since we cannot describe what we are not yet in a position to know—and yet it is the black novel’s absolute duty to express it. T.S. Eliot, I think, got closest to describing the nature of this challenge when he wrote (I paraphrase): It is not necessary to die to describe death” (p. 144).

He later added, “Nothing else much matters once you have achieved the hardest thing, which is to act out of conviction. Even if you have been beaten by evil, in the bitterness of the defeat the battle has left a trace for the others, and you can go feeling clean. I recognise that I am a minor writer; but this does not affect the depth of my convictions” (p. 287).

Perhaps, then, it wasn’t the murders that were most disturbing and needed closure; it was the times. Readers followed the journey of an unnamed sergeant; they followed a needed counter belief combating a damaged society.                 

“But I don’t believe I am the disaster—I think I’m just a reminder that people are living in one.”

Dead Man Upright, p. 20

I must first state that I do not recommend Raymond’s work for every reader. I know many aren’t affected by this style of writing or imagination, but then again, nothing like this has been read. If your advantageous enough, your curiosity may be met with delight, but the scenery does come with a warning label. The series is not for the squeamish; it’s certainly not for everyone. It is, however, a fascinating work of literature.

The Factory series was needed. Not because of the gruesome crimes, shock value, sharp wit or superb writing, but because of the philosophical understanding, in the mind of the author, that paralleled the issues society faced during that era. It enhanced the hardboiled crime genre, made it more academic in a sense, instead of just offering raunchy entertainment with enough bleakness to satisfy but not continue a reader’s thought.

Raymond wrote in How the Dead Live, “I’m afraid even those of us who have never committed murder are nevertheless guilty of it because we enjoy death at second hand, just as we enjoy watching a thriller on television. After all, what’s the use of a newspaper to the general public if there’s not a single good murder in it?” (pp. 2-3).

Murder and crime surround us in various mediums, in fantasy and reality. We’re victims without an escape other than avoidance, which is sometimes too tall of a task. Raymond made hardboiled crime meaningful, thought-provoking and relevant, and blended our separate fears into bittersweet grotesqueness. The Factory series is tragically beautiful and there’s nothing else like it.

New Mexico United’s Home Opener was a Victory for all New Mexicans

~ Carl Lawrence Knauf ~ 1 Comment

After 574 days, it was time. On May 15, New Mexico United played a game at Rio Grande Credit Union Field at Isotopes Park in front of 8,657 wild fans—the largest attendance of any USL Championship game this season. United earned their first victory of the 2021 campaign by defeating Austin Bold FC 3-1.

Tailgaters gathered early and propped up cornhole boards and popped up mini goals on the small strips of grass next to the parking lot. As the smoke lifted from grills and cups filled from growler pours, blissful fans blared music and tossed bags while children mimicked their favorite United stars. Black and yellow tops and replica kits filled the spaces between cars until the swarm of fans migrated toward the stadium to claim seats well before the first whistle.

Supporters pressed against each other as they entered through the gates when access was first granted. Face coverings were mostly donned and social distancing was a mere suggestion as The Curse packed the section behind the south goal. With the CDC relaxing their health recommendations days before the game, the inevitable was accepted rather than considered a violation. Horns resonated, drums pounded, flags waved and chants echoed through the concourse as the anticipation grew.

NMU’s Austin Yearwood applauds the fans as the team is welcomed onto the field.

“It’s been a long time coming,” United defender Kalen Ryden said. “I kind of just took a moment, as we came out for warmups I paused, and I just stood on top of the 18 and did a 360 look around, panorama, and just soaked it all in. It was a beautiful moment.”

The Game

The players were just as eager. United (1-1-1) moved a tad quickly in the first 10 minutes of play and had trouble maintaining possession and constructing quality scoring chances. Then it happened. Sergio Rivas, fittingly an Albuquerque native and playing in his first game for United, buried a header off a cross from Harry Swartz in the 18th minute. The crowd went berserk.

Rivas shared, “Being able to perform in front of my people, my city, it’s truly a blessing. It was one of the moments when I scored and you just don’t feel anything. You’re just floating; it was an amazing moment. I’m just happy to be able do this for my city, my hometown.”

NMU players celebrate Sergio Rivas’ first half goal.

The remainder of the first half provided solid defense and minimal scoring opportunities for both sides. Austin (0-0-1) immediately increased the pace a minute into the second half as substitute Nick Hinds placed the equalizer in the bottom corner of the net. United upped the pressure from that point on.

Brian Brown, just moments after coming in for Devon Sandoval, chipped Austin goalkeeper Hugo Fauroux to give United a 2-1 lead in the 61st minute. It was also Brown’s first tally as a member of United.

Five minutes later, Amando Moreno headed in United’s third goal off an Andrew Tinari cross, extending the lead. Behind the excitement and joy of the fan base, the team’s energy was constant as they fended off the attacks and chipiness of a desperate Austin side.

“Knowing that we were playing at home, our first game here, we were just excited,” Moreno explained. “We were aggressive the whole time. We were hungry.”

The Return

United’s return was great, but their victory was golden. After the team captured the state’s heart in 2018, the momentum of their inaugural season never subsided.

The timeline of professional sports has been a great gauge of progression through the pandemic. First, sports were cancelled. Shortly after, European soccer, golf and NASCAR decided to compete with no fan access. Then the NHL and NBA created bubbles and gave us champions. The World Series was hosted by a neutral site with minimal attendance, as was the College Football Playoff. The NFL completed a full season and college basketball gifted us a version of March Madness. Finally, we started seeing more fans on a consistent basis sprinkle baseball stands and gradually fill other stadiums more and more.

The Curse packs the section behind the south goal.

Now, New Mexico was able to contribute to the triumphant and hope-filled full return of sports. These fans, just like the players, yearned for a return to normal. Seeing United win at home while New Mexicans rubbed shoulders, toasted drinks and cheered ecstatically together, is exactly that: normal. Welcome home. Welcome back.

Head coach Troy Lesesne simply stated of the opener, “I would describe tonight’s experience as ineffable.”

United travels to play the Colorado Springs Switchbacks tonight (May 21), and will host Loudoun United FC on May 29.

My Struggle is Our Struggle

~ Carl Lawrence Knauf ~ 1 Comment

“Seems like in death, we all become our perfect self.”
-Stereomud, “Perfect Self”

I finished My Struggle by Karl Ove Knausgaard. It was exhausting. It was an accomplishment.

At the end of the sixth book, the Norwegian author stated, “I am no longer a writer” (p. 1052).

I am no longer an ordinary reader.

“We can strip down reality, layer by layer, and never reach its core, for what the last layer covers over is the most unreal of all, the greatest fiction of them all, the true nature of things.”

p. 1012

My Struggle, or Min Kamp, should not be confused or compared to the most recognized European work with the same title, Mein Kampf. Knausgaard’s struggle has nothing to do with Adolf Hitler’s struggle from a philosophical aspect, so you’re able to continue at your leisure. Phew.

There are, however, two curious similarities. First, the style must be addressed. They are both autobiographical. Second, the key antagonist, if we were to classify a real-life character as such, is the father.

The controversy surrounding the book isn’t in its title, but rather the full disclosure of the author throughout the text, and the inclusion of his family and friends as the cast. Knausgaard’s My Struggle is a series of six volumes forming one immense piece of work. The books were published in Norway from 2009-2011, and have been translated into 35 languages. More than half a million copies of the 3,600-page novel have been sold in Norway alone.

In 2012, the books began to appear in English and each volume was released in year increments. By 2018, the sixth and final installment was made available and I instantly purchased my hardback copy. However, with grad school set to begin in 2019, and with the looming combination of academic text and heavy autobiographical philosophy, I decided to pause my reading of the latter.

Two winters and a global pandemic later, I started the end of this specific literary journey. It took me nearly three months to complete My Struggle Book Six, but the eagerness was worth the overwhelming distraction, the sometimes dreadful anxiety was relieved with small situational climaxes, and the closure, well, it will always remain a thought.

“All generations live their lives as if they were the first, gathering experiences, progressing onward through the years, and as insights accumulate, meaning diminishes, or if it doesn’t diminish, it at least becomes less self-evident.”

p. 32

Though the struggle the reader absorbs is Knausgaard’s, there is relation in the prose. Not specifically or literally per se, but rather one’s comparison to the stressors of daily life and how an upbringing shapes an individual.

Whenever I read a volume, timing was everything, and I was enthralled from the beginning. It seemed to move with my life, or at least the lasting memories, current idiosyncrasies and future perspectives. For example, in book six, my wife and I had just been discussing what traveling with two children would be like after we are comfortable battling the tail end of the pandemic, and, sure enough, the section I read the next day involved Knausgaard, his wife at the time, Linda, and their children navigating through an airport.

That, however, is just coincidentally anecdotal. But such is life. Major similarities include the dialectal closeness of our names, the fact that we are both authors (one being much better than the other), we are both fans of soccer and have both broken our collarbones playing the sport. Not to mention our obsession with music, the minuscule and immense aspirations of adolescence, complete existentialism and death.

Perhaps the reason I latched on to Knausgaard’s journey was because I was always given a fitting line at the perfect time. Or perhaps I see a common bond through my own literary fiction—or my own life.    

“As a stylistic device in literature, a particular filter through which the world is viewed, beauty lends hope to the hopeless, worth to the worthless, meaning to the meaningless.”

pp. 174-175

I’m more of an author than a reader, and that has nothing to do with desire and motivation, but rather time. I am one who is always battling time. Therefore, I know what genres I’m genuinely drawn toward. Autobiographies are one of said genres.

My Struggle has been labeled as autobiographical fiction. This is part of the names used and perhaps the jumbled memories of the author. However, it’s not a fantasy, everything is based on Knausgaard’s life as he remembers it. If you can find me a person who says they remember every precise detail of their life, then you have found me a liar.

In episode six (how delightfully accidental) of the television series Clarice, a therapist says to the mentally-damaged young FBI agent, “Everything is tinged with experience.”

In other words, experience may slightly alter fact because it can tend to be viewed subjectively. That raises the question: Is anything truly an autobiography then? Which also raises another question: Is most literary fiction autobiographical? Authors tend to take situations from real life and insert it into their prose when the genre calls for it. However, it’s safe to say the answers to both are yes and no.

That didn’t clear anything up.

Knausgaard’s style can be maddening to some readers. Some become exasperated with the excessive use of minute details, but there is valid reasoning to such confidence in filler and fluff. The strange double standard is that over-describing is allowed in some genres and not others. I’ve heard readers complain about autobiographies or literary fiction having too much detail, but then they love epic fantasy. Each involves a world you nothing about and yearn to discover, so why should it be stereotyped, and therefore only permissible in one genre or the other? Writing is writing. Creativity is creativity.

As an author, I believe that every single word matters to a story, and you must love every word or it doesn’t belong. In a discussion I had with esteemed novelist Leslie Epstein, he said, “About cutting, you can be ruthless. Look closely at the passages you love the most; the reason you love them may be because, like one’s favorite child, they are the weakest. Out they go! Just make sure the storyline is clear and that reader will never be confused.”

Epstein also shared a quote from Rudyard Kipling, “It’s like poking a fire, no one knows you have done it but when people enter the room the flames are burning so much more brightly.”

Sometimes the fire is a bonfire, or a massive blaze consuming a city in the case of My Struggle. Every word is needed, and it is intimate to the author no matter what Knausgaard claims.

“To be seen is vital, but not to be seen is vital, too. Nothing feels more perilous to us than to be exposed to the attention and gaze of others.”   

p. 412

Book six is a different animal than books one through five. Knausgaard’s life was on full display in the prior volumes and it led readers to this point—the point of publication and revelation. We followed him through his adolescent years, adulthood, childhood, the various phases of fresh independence when life’s complexity is commonly exaggerated—which continues until maturity settles the fire.

Readers know everything about Knausgaard, from his reliance on cigarettes and coffee to the daily paths he strolls and the views he observes to even the most personal and intimate details of his life such as how successful his bathroom breaks and battles with sexual desire are. We become him, but he is us.

The main difference between books one through five and six is he was a nobody, just like us, and now he is writing as a somebody, unlike us. Yet, though that would seemingly eradicate this bond that had been formed between reader and author, person and person, Knausgaard’s style keeps him exactly as we know him in book six: human.

This is why the finite details are so important and should not be considered fluff or filler. He must prove that he isn’t an esteemed author, but rather just a man. It’s almost as if he is guilty, as if he abandoned humility, and us in the process, and must maintain and prove his worth as an everyday person. It would be daring to call it Christ-like, but wrong to leave that comparison out.

This is also something Knausgaard is used to doing: self-modulation. Strangely enough, and to counter my own point, self-modulation is actually the opposite of how people view their lives in the modern era of being “social.”

That is beside the point, however. The middle section of book six is where we find an unnecessary exaggeration by Knausgaard to prove said worth. We experience his love of literary analysis first-hand, which is greatly appreciated. As he works us through Proust, Joyce, Kafka, Hamsun, Mann, Faulkner, Dostoevsky and Dante, and inserts Hamlet and Don Quixote comparisons wherever he can, we delve more into not only his life in the literary world, but his passion.

Yet, he still downplays his importance in that very world by stating, “This is the novel’s basic constraint, chained as it is to life in the social domain, the way people are to each other, and the minute the novel departs from that human world and ventures into the nonhuman or the beyond-human of the divine, it dies.

Music can express it, and painting too, since their forms are wordless, their language another and nameless, as removed from the ‘I’ that employs it and the ‘I’ that perceives it as figures in a mathematical formula. Reading a novel after having listened to Bach’s cello suites is like leaving a sunset to descend into a cellar. The novel is the form of the small life, and when it’s not it is because it’s being deceitful and is no true novel at all, since no ‘I’ exists that isn’t small too” (pp. 425-426).

He’s implying that he is small life. Then, he takes something he isn’t strong at, analyzing poetry, and dissects the importance of individual entities in a a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke, which leads to another analysis of a Paul Celan work which transitions the word “ash” from literary line to tragic representation—which then leads the reader to the most controversial part of the entire six-book journey: Hitler and the Holocaust.

Yes, Knausgaard analyzes and picks apart Mein Kampf, but not only the words, but rather the life of the author.

He said of the work, “I usually always sniff the books I buy, the new ones as well as the old, putting my nose to the pages and breathing in their smell because I associated that smell, and the smell of old books in particular, with something good, that element of childhood that was unconditionally pleasurable. The adventure, the abandoning oneself to other worlds. But I could not do that with Mein Kampf. The book was evil, in some indefinable way.

Hitler’s book is no longer literature. What later happened, what he later did, the axioms of which are meticulously laid out in that book, is such that it transforms the literature into something evil. Hitler’s Mein Kampf is literature’s only unmentionable work” (p. 493).

It was a heavy experience for there were excerpts shared and history remembered. It went on for 353 pages and felt like an academic text. As Knausgaard searched for the meaning of evil, “you” and “I,” he wasn’t necessarily providing us with his exceptional analytical talents, but rather his defense. In his analysis of “I,” he is the literal and figurative “I” in every form. He needed to prove to himself, not us, that he could review and understand poetry; he needed to prove to himself, not us, that there’s no ideological similarity between Min Kamp and Mein Kampf; he needed to prove to himself, not us, that his novel, his glorious accomplishment, was truly relevant and remained chained to life in the social domain.

He needed to prove to himself, not us, that he’s just a man living his life.

And that’s why this book is beloved. He is us.

“And writing was such a fragile thing. It wasn’t hard to write well, but it was hard to make writing that was alive, writing that could pry open the world and draw it together in one and the same movement.”

p. 123

What is on the surface, a simple tale about a life that not many people would consider fascinating, is somewhat what My Struggle can be considered even after dedicating your time, part of your life to his 3,600 pages.

I always remember when I ordered the fourth volume from Barnes & Noble. The woman who was checking me out said with sarcasm on full display with no intention to be hidden, “Still going on about his struggle I see.”

Reference my aforementioned counter-point.

These unnecessary exaggerations to prove one’s worth aren’t actually a counter-point, you see. We all self-modulate below the book cover. It’s life. Knausgaard is infected with self-doubt from an insignificant being to the limelight and spent anxious years writing a book about him and his father.

There’s not much to analyze because of the way My Struggle is written. Knausgaard puts everything out there for the world to absorb—attempting to make analysis almost impermissible—similar to what we experience on social networking, but in single form. In the “I” form. He is constantly on the defense, guarded, vulnerable, as if he was on trial as we all seem to be.

My Struggle is needed. It’s brilliant because it’s human. Yes, it was about the “I” but it became “us.” What Knausgaard did for himself, what he did for the world, is greatly appreciated and will go down as one of the most significant pieces of literature in our history.

Thank you, Karl Ove Knausgaard.

Tarah Who? Looks to Shift the Narrative

~ Carl Lawrence Knauf ~ 1 Comment

“Let me be your mentor.”
-Tarah Who?, “Manners”

She took the stage; stories permanently etched from wrist to neck, her hair shaved on one side with the rest parted, allowing the opposite full strands to dangle and wildly match the energetic performance. By the end, red had stained her guitar strings and dripped to the floor from her fingertips, the strobe spotlighting the blood through the haze. For Tarah G. Carpenter, music is in her, and she’s fine exposing her passion.

Tarah Who?. It’s not a question that needs to be answered. Tarah Who? is a rising statement in the progressive punk/grunge scene. However, the duo of Carpenter and Coralie “Coco” Herve is prepared to become a brand whether the world is ready or not. 

They are an independent band. Though the industry has been over-saturated with amateur acts for quite some time, Tarah Who? has built a solid following the last half-decade. Yet, their end game isn’t necessarily overwhelming stardom, but rather motivating others to push through the obstacles that make sustainability difficult in the music industry—and having fun throughout the process.

Carpenter said, “I hope to inspire women to play and dare to do what they want to do, and everyone as a matter of fact, regardless of their sexuality, religion, race, etc. My end game is: if WE can do it, EVERYONE can.”

Though people have fought mightily for progression, female lead singers in rock music still must overcome hindrances that delay recognition and relevance.

Herve explained, “I don’t understand that in 2021 there is still this thinking. The best will be for artists to be respected for their art and not because they are a man or a woman.”

Tarah Who? has not only showcased their talents, but has proven their value, and are leading a new charge to shift the narrative.     

“There’s no going back, once you’ve made your choice.”

Carpenter was born in France. Many, especially visitors who have only experienced the country through stories, view the culture as romantic in a sense. Their musical tastes are deep and moving, and many French audiences expect poetic lyrics and masterful production from classical to pop. At 14, Carpenter decided to self-teach herself the drums. At the time, it wasn’t common for a lady to be aggressively slamming sticks against cymbals, snares and toms.

“I remember when my dad said that it was not an instrument for girls. I didn’t take it as a rebellion but more like ‘I don’t care I still want to do it’,” Carpenter said.

Even the drum teacher at a music school in Paris brushed away her aspirations based solely on assumption. Little did they know, Carpenter had already been practicing over tracks and playing in a band. It wasn’t the norm, it was too different, and it had been that way for quite some time.

“I found out a year ago or so that my mom had always wanted to learn how to play the drums, but my mom was born in 1943, so for her time it was really not something girls, women did. Especially after the war.”

The norm had been challenged.

Photo courtesy of Maria Quintana

Though she was an experienced stateside traveler since she was 10, Carpenter moved to the United States as an exchange student at 15. Positioned in Kentucky, she fell in love with America, though she had always been drawn to the culture. Her English teacher in France would praise her grasp of the English language. After earning her baccalaureate, she saved all her money and headed way west at 21 with just a guitar strapped around her shoulder and one piece of luggage in tow.

It was just years before she was learning to break musical barriers on the drums, and now she had thrown herself into a sea of intimidation and dreamers. She was in Los Angeles. With no plan or contacts and little money, she landed in Koreatown, and she knew her voice had to become louder than all the screamers.

“Tell me what you see, and I’ll tell you how I see you.”

A writer needs to be knowledgeable in a variety of industry and societal aspects. They don’t just understand their genre and instrument, they understand music as a whole. They don’t just understand their experiences, they understand the issues that affect their surroundings and beyond. They find a relation in human behavior through past actions and modern affairs. They’re capable of processing an obscene amount of content, and using the information to produce something to share with the world they are emotionally embedded in.

They also need to be able to rock out.

As Tarah Who? was first being formed, another French-native  moved to Los Angeles. Herve came to the states from Brittany, France, but her and Carpenter’s similarities and bond didn’t just stop at language and culture. She was a drummer since 10 and a well-versed music lover. After Coco graduated from the Musicians Institute in 2018, it was time for the duo to define and perfect their sound and start their legacy.

Music has the tendency to repeat itself every three decades. This doesn’t necessarily mean the sound is the same, but rather the style and attitude. The ‘60s and ‘90s brought us great rock, boy bands, and emotion; the ‘70s and ‘00s also gave the world great rock, disco and dance and high energy; the ‘80s and ‘10s spread pop throughout every genre, fantastic experimentation and some strange fashion choices. The ‘20s will give us yet another rock revolution.

In the ‘60s and ‘90s, societal conflict led to progressive voices rising from every form of status, and the start of the ‘20s have been no different, maybe even more demanding in that sense thus far. Also, perhaps these chance comparisons are subconsciously due to the generational bonds we have with our parents, or perhaps, on a less complex psychological note, we’re just in need or nostalgic influence. Fans get that with Tarah Who?.

“I have never written a song just to write a song,” Carpenter shared.

Does this signify the return of the quality album in the industry, something that has vanished since probably the ‘00s in rock music? As a ‘90’s teen, a CD was something of value, and every last track was part of that experience. In the modern world of digital downloads, all a band needs is a hit or two, and maybe land the audio for a commercial.

Both Carpenter and Herve have deep-seeded roots in “older” rock. From strong female-led ‘90’s acts such as Alanis Morissette, Bikini Kill, Björk, The Cranberries, The Distillers, Garbage and Sonic Youth to classics rockers like Bon Jovi, Heart, Joan Jett and Journey, the women of Tarah Who? have a superior catalog of influence.

Her love for these artists, and her drive, allowed Carpenter to enter the industry and a valuable network.       

“We can be ourselves and feel what’s it like to be free and happy.”

Jason Orme was, and still is, an established guitarist from the ‘90s on. He served as Morrisette’s guitarist, and provided support for other strong female artists such as Sarah McLachlan, Natasha Bedingfield, Michelle Branch, Idina Menzel and Kelly Clarkson. He has since added production to his credits.

Orme first met Carpenter when she was a teenager. He was on tour with Morrisette and they were playing a show in Paris. Carpenter attended the concert and was able to linger enough after the show to have a conversation with Orme. They would connect each time France was a tour stop, and after Carpenter moved to Los Angeles, their contact became more frequent. It wasn’t until 10 years after they met that Orme began to truly hear what Carpenter had to offer, and with production now a part of his resume, the timing worked out perfectly. 

Orme said of their relationship, “It just kind of developed over time. She’s really got a voice, and she has something to say.” 

Carpenter fits in well with the role of a strong female voice who has the ability to reach an audience. Orme has always respected her work ethic and independence, and it’s partially why he was excited to work with her and Herve.

“I have a lot of respect for her because I think she really sticks to her gut feeling on things. If it doesn’t feel right in her gut, and if she’s not representing herself in a way that she really wants to, then she doesn’t do it.”

Though Tarah Who? is in a good position when it comes to their genre, they still face an uphill battle. They have their sound, they have an audience, but now there is a call for broader respect.

“We are surrounded by no one at all just because of my gender.”

Progressive punk, grunge, hard rock and other closely-related genres have one thing in common: they are male-dominated. Yet, female-led acts such as Evanescence, Flyleaf, Halestorm, Lucina Coil and The Pretty Reckless have been able to maintain successful careers in the mainstream rock world. Not to mention the previously aforementioned acts dominated the ‘70s-‘10s. The industry isn’t necessarily the issue, though.

Gender norms aren’t something that musical artists themselves live by, but rather audiences and listeners tend to be more focused on what is standard. 

Carpenter said, “We had an interview with a French radio show not too long ago and there seems to be, still, an issue with female artists playing rock, metal, etc. Here in L.A., I feel that women, in general, are able to express themselves more in whatever area they are in. It is very refreshing.”

Cultural differences and mindsets are important to consider for international acts, and when placed in the right scene, it enables any musician with more opportunity and to be taken more seriously. And though the artist shares a common ideology with their colleagues, ignorance and sometimes strategy can delay progression.

Orme added, “I think women are held to a different standard sometimes than men. That’s something they still have to fight.”

Photo courtesy of Maria Quintana

There is also the danger that comes along with being a female in not only a male-dominated genre, but in front of male-dominated audiences. Precautions need to be taken, and there have been instances where both Carpenter and Herve have felt uncomfortable, even at risk from persistent vulgar drunks.

“We usually are able to either calm them down or they get kicked out,” Carpenter explained. “We as artists can’t really get into it since it is also our show on the line.”

It is a difficult balance. Carpenter and Herve, who tour alone most times, must be careful of not only the information they provide, but from any sort of physical altercation or theft. On the other hand, they also have a name to keep and a brand to promote. The duo does it the right way: through their music and onstage presence. They don’t need shock value or degrading sexiness to prove they belong or draw an audience in, and most spectators appreciate the genuine act. 

“Trying to write this without letting a tear go.”

In 2014, Tarah Who? released their debut album, Little Out There. It screamed progressive punk and grunge with loud rhythm, low riffs and heavy distortion and Carpenter’s signature blunt lyrics.

Carpenter admitted of her style, “I am not good at making up stories or using metaphors. When I write I have this burst of emotions, and I am about to explode. Well, I actually do end up in tears of anger or sadness. For a few minutes, I am just writing and writing until my hand hurts and almost until the dark cloud is gone. I feel like I can breathe again.”

Her methods are full of emotion and energy, but nothing is ever forced. Everything is developed with thought. After Little Out There, Tarah Who? released three EPs, Federal Circle of Shame (2016), Half Middle Child Syndrome (2017) and 64 Women (2020). Recently, a slew of singles have been available for streaming, including their latest release on Feb. 16, “Manners.”

Though many of Tarah Who?’s songs contain aggressive riffs, anger and sadness, like “Copycat,” “Pantomath” and “Swallow That Pill,” the band does showcase versatility. “Human To Be” slows the tempo and promotes acceptance and hope within personal frustration, and “Hurt,” “14 Months” and “In A Rush” bring a deeper, softer musical touch to their cadence.

Tarah Who? has shifted their sound a tad. Little Out There had more of a standard ‘90’s rock feel, especially on tracks such as “Rainy Day” and “Too Much Thinking.” The best thing about the album, however, is full balance. It’s loud, heavy, up-tempo, but can shift and transition into melodious ballad songs like “Here All Ears” without any abrupt choppiness. In music, or at least in the past, it’s not just about inner-song structure, but album structure as well.

Releasing singles and EPs are a newer strategy recycled from decades ago. It works on many levels, especially for independent bands. However, Tarah Who? has proven they can write an album, and another full release like Little Out There, not necessarily a retreat to the sound, but rather the structure, may push them further into the scene—and even more so in the community.   

“Ready to get you to be so kind.”

The EP title 64 Women isn’t just some random grouping of females; it has significance. On Nov. 19, 2014, 64 women were detained at an immigration detention center in downtown Los Angeles. Carpenter and Herve also reference the Manchester bombing at Ariana Grande’s concert on May 22, 2017 in the track “Numb Killer.” Through the hard riffs, the punk-grunge sound and attitude, there are important messages connected to Tarah Who?’s music. Carpenter sings about accepting yourself, loving one another despite our physical and ideological differences, and affairs that affect society as a whole.

Tarah Who? can possibly be an influencer—an important one, that is, not the pointless millionaires on social media. Fame isn’t a primary aspiration because there are drawbacks to that level of status. It’s sometimes just about developing a core audience in order to make a living and keep doing what an artist loves to do. That happens on and off the stage.

Carpenter said, “I think that it is the responsibility of any influencers, musician or not, to inspire others in what you believe is right. If you are able to make an impact on someone, you should try to make a good impact. For instance, voting, Black Lives Matter, etc.”

One such cause in Carpenter’s heart is the LGBTQ+ community. “For communities like the LGBTQ+, the way I am making an impact is by not hiding, nor do I need to mention it on every post. The way I see it is that if I want the LGBTQ+ to be ‘normalized’ (because I think it is normal in the first place) is just to be. Do your thing.”

Photo courtesy of Maria Quintana

She lives her life as she chooses, and if she receives any flack for her style or preferences, she realizes that sometimes reaction is useless. It’s regression in a way. When issues are brought to light, and norms are challenged, it’s about progression, and the petty arguments only hinder our development as a society.

Orme added to Carpenter’s plight, “The thing that always impresses me about her is her drive. I think Tarah can keep moving forward and do what she wants, but she’s putting in the work of probably 20 people.”   

What’s most impressive is that Tarah Who? remains an independent band, which comes with freedom. However, there are the financial uncertainties and the stresses of booking gigs and managing tour logistics. Yet, one of the main issues an unsigned artist faces is being taken seriously. Tarah Who? works just as hard, or even harder, than other acts in the industry; they don’t sit around and wait for opportunities to be presented.

Orme said, “In my experience they are some of the hardest working musicians I’ve ever met. Tarah is so dedicated and their story is deep and touches on so many facets of what it takes to be an artist and remain true to what you want to put out into the world.”

Tarah Who? just wants to be heard. 

“Don’t be scared to open up ‘cause we’re just lost souls.”

Tarah Who? has a great opportunity to lead a new charge of female empowerment, as well as being an influential act for young musicians. It’s the story you always hear about, but one in which the ending still needs to be written. Carpenter and Herve can be more than a talented rock duo, they can be an industry symbol of perseverance and progression.

Herve simply said, “I hope we can, as humans and with our music, make the world better. I know it’s cliché, but that’s what I’m hoping for.”

Tarah Who? is doing exactly that. Cliché or not, that’s something we can all aspire to achieve with our respective passions and talents. You just have to go for it whether the world is ready or not.

Carpenter added, “We want an open-minded audience.”

And that Tarah Who? audience is set to grow.

Featured image courtesy of Maria Quintana