SQUARE ROOT OF MARGARET -- an interview with Jason 33 1/3

Endless rotation

Square Root of Margaret screams in library-voices

Completely incognito — Four-fifths of Ontario’s Square Root of Margaret find the perfect way to avoid unwelcome attention

The party house. Every old neighbourhood has one. Skateboard ramp ascending the front porch, flags instead of curtains, anatomically correct garden gnomes strutting their stuff in an overgrown yard. For the southern Ontario town of Chatham, a.k.a. The Maple City, that particular residence was known as The Briscotech. Its requisite resident house band — Square Root of Margaret.    

  “There was lots of LSD going on at the time,” explains keyboardist Jason 33 1/3. “The guys chose the band’s name by going into a room in The Briscotech that was known as the library. They began randomly opening books and pointing to words. The idea was to find a combination of words with no linear meaning. You could call it a surrealist statement. Other names that came up were Big Daddy Carnie and the Thumbsaws, and Bloated Policewoman.” 

Thankfully that one didn’t stick. Collaborating and creating infectiously good music in a non-linear fashion, Jason and guitarist Po Kadot, along with the house’s namesake rhythm guitarist Joshua Brisco, bassist Easy Reissner and drummer Todd Clark, have amassed an impressive body of work since the band’s inception. From their mind-bending early Outer Space(s) and Casual Man-Slayer EPs to their more recent LPs, Levitation Days and Cloud Nine Revisited, Margaret have displayed an uncanny knack for combining harmony and whimsy. Self-proclaimed “soldiers of misfortune,” the group has weathered an unfortunate era marked by venue closures, studio fires and a record label that crumbled, taking one of their best releases, the brilliant yet ill-fated Endless Rotation, with it.     

“The history of this band goes back to the beginning of time,” explains Jason, a two-year veteran of the long running troupe. “Po Kadot started the band as an instrumental trio back in high school. I know the term ‘musical genius’ gets bandied about a lot, but he honestly is one. He can literally pick up any instrument and moments later he’s working on a melody. We recorded one of our early songs, “Crisis in Space,” within 10 to 15 minutes of Po picking up an autoharp for the first time. Funnily enough, our guitarist, Joshua, lived in The Briscotech, too, and taught himself to play his instrument by listening to (the band) jamming out in his basement. One day he just came downstairs and asked to join.”    

Rotating on an axis of unbridled musical talent and unexpectedly auspicious coincidences, Square Root of Margaret continue to pursue the ideal of creating genuinely unique and enjoyable music that is at the same time deeply personal and widely accessible.   

“We exist in our own world, one we have created out of cultural necessity. The Briscotech is gone, but our new residence, The House of Bleen, continues to be a communal existence, ” Jason elaborates. 

“For a while there, Square Root of Margaret had stopped playing live and focused on making music. It wasn’t long before Po had accumulated over 100 songs. We selected 13 to make up the new album Teragram Photeur. Having our own recording and rehearsal space in-house has influenced the sound and feel of our albums. An interesting pattern developed where Po would wake up, go downstairs and record music inspired by his dreams. We consider ourselves thoughtful individuals and we believe that, within reason, we can do anything. As long as we have warmth, food and shelter and it doesn’t hurt anyone, we intend to customize our existence to suit our needs and perceptions. We like to mix and match concepts in our songs; they’re whimsical, abstract and only limited by our imaginations.”

Published September 6, 2007  by Christine Leonard

EDGAR WINTER -- an interview with Edgar Winter by Christine Leonard

Just orbiting this planet...

Edgar Winter comes full circle

Distilling a complex musical genre like the blues down into its most basic black-and-white constituents is a mighty tall order for any artist, but for Edgar Winter, who was raised on a steady diet of the stuff, nothing could be simpler. Having benefited early on from the tutelage of his musically inclined parents, Winter began performing with his much idolized brother, legendary slide blues guitarist Johnny Winter, at a tender age. Never content with settling into a specific style of music, Winter soon moved beyond his homegrown country-blues background and began to explore other musical worlds including jazz, classical and rock ’n’ roll.

Eventually mastering the alto saxophone and piano, Winter’s willingness to push the envelope led him to form The Edgar Winter Group in 1972, along with renowned songwriters and players Rick Derringer, Dan Hartman, Ronnie Montrose and Chuck Ruff. By January 1973, Winter’s unique combination of R & B and synthesizer rock won over critics and mainstream audiences alike with the release of the band’s most successful album to date, They Only Come Out at Night, which featured the electric keyboard juggernaut “Frankenstein” and the feel-good epic “Free Ride.”

Some 35 years later, Winter is still actively composing, performing and recording and continues to bring the blues into the future.

    “I have a lot of fun doing what I do,“ Winter says of his long-running career. “I still enjoy it as much as I did when I was a little kid playing ukulele with my brother Johnny and listening to the Everly Brothers. My dad showed us our first chord; he played guitar and banjo, and sang in a barbershop quartet and in the church choir. He also played the alto sax and performed with a swing band back in the day. Mom played classical, too, so good music was always a part of growing up. I think that’s part of the reason I try to broaden people’s musical horizons.”

   Looking to the horizons — and indeed the heavens — for inspiration, Winter is a noted Scientologist who is well-known in Hollywood, where he currently resides, for his work as a soundtrack composer. His arrangements have been featured in numerous film and television productions including The Simpsons, Wayne’s World 2, Netherworld, Invincible, Tupac Resurrection, Queer as Folk and the movie adaptation of L. Ron Hubbard’s Mission Earth (Hubbard left explicit guidelines regarding the score to accompany the inevitable adaptation of his magnum opus). The fact that both Edgar and Johnny Winter carry the genetic distinction of albinism only adds to their mystique.

While Johnny shirks from interviews, tending to let his amazing slide guitar-playing take the spotlight (Jimi Hendrix once approached him for lessons), Edgar has come to embrace his public persona. He even hosts a congenial website (www.edgarwinter.com) where he repeatedly thanks his fans and invites them to shed their preconceived musical preferences and experience his sound with open minds and ears.

    “It is really senseless to have all these musical prejudices,” Winter explains of his philosophical approach to his craft. “All music is beautiful and all styles have their own validity and are continually evolving and merging together. The one common thread between them is the blues. I’m thought of as a rocker, but I also play jazz, classical, blues, ragtime, Dixie and more. People think the blues has already happened and is over with, but I believe it still continues to have an influence on the pop music of today. The same can be said of jazz. That’s what my album, Jazzin’ the Blues, is all about.”

    One of the many perks of having been a major name in the recording industry for so long is the pull that Winter has when it comes to putting together a wish list of artists to appear on the forthcoming Rockin’ the Blues. Everyone from Slash to Clint Black has been assigned a seat in Winter’s blues-rock arena. Winter intends to let the record develop in a natural “organic” manner, one that will ensure that things are done with what he describes as a feeling of “rightness.”

    “I’m a musical rebel in the sense that I never want to be categorized,” says Winter. “I think it has hurt music, to an extent, that record companies are so insistent on defining artists by style to make it easier to target their market audience. I really feel that things were better back in the ’70s. There was an open attitude (amongst musicians) of freedom and playing music they believed in. Bands actually went into the studio with two or three songs and created the rest of the album in the studio. There was a magic and immediacy to the process, as opposed to the control presently exerted by record companies that want demos of everything in advance. Today, it’s more about business than art. Rock, jazz, blues; I’m just glad to have trained in so many different theatres. It makes for a really interesting, fun, high-energy show.”

Originally published in FFWD Magazine, August 23, 2007  by Christine Leonard

MBP // MARK BIRTLES PROJECT -- an interview with Blake Betteridge by Christine Leonard-Cripps

Let’s get physical

MBP stages a pants-off dance-off

We'll be in the basement, Dad — the Mark Birtles Project wants to put the wreck in your room. 

For some artists, it’s the moment of truth. For others, it’s the pinnacle of their career and the realization of their lifetime aspirations. For Blake Betteridge, guitarist and keyboardist for Edmonton’s high-intensity rock ’n’ roll juggernaut, Mark Birtles Project, walking into an HMV and seeing his new album available for purchase is a quirky novelty. Hitting the shelves July 24, ART Crime is the group’s third recording in five years, but unlike the EPs it follows, the new album offers a full-length glimpse into the world of these hassle-free hipsters who refuse to take themselves too seriously.

    “It was cool seeing our CD at HMV,” says Blake Betteridge “I like the idea that it’s available on such a wide scale. Before it used to be that when we put together an album, we’d write the songs, then pay for them to be recorded. Then only a few people would get to hear it if they we able to come out to our shows, or get to the small cool record stores to buy a copy. It’s weird, now that we’re in mall stores it makes things official. It makes it legit. Of course, it also adds more pressure, because we’re very conscious of the fact that money is being spent and people are counting on us to fulfill our end by touring and playing and recording great music. The upside is all of the opportunities that are coming our way, and higher exposure for our CD. Masterpieces of art belong in a museum for the public to enjoy and appreciate, not just in someone’s private collection. That’s a true art crime.”

    As the lyric to one of the band’s ringtone-worthy songs goes, “it’s alright to feel nice.” And feel nice they do, largely because of the fact that the Mark Birtles Project takes their musical motivation from the positive side of rocking out. Betteridge, along with the band’s lead singer Mark Raymond, guitarist Brian Birtles, and drummer Sean Taylor (bassist Steve P. will be joining MBP for this tour) extend this sense of spiritual levity and resilience to their name, which is an homage of sorts to Brian’s father Mark Birtles. Talk about the ultimate teenage rebellion; naming your rock ’n’ roll band after the parent that ordered you to “turn it down” in your reckless youth!

Hovering halfway between a tongue-in-cheek poke at themselves and a heartfelt tribute, MBP’s unlikely moniker is an apt metaphor for the band’s unconventional approach to their material. Hashing out angst and blowing off excess energy with every lick, the lads throw themselves into one sonic smash-up after another, without any sign of hesitation or fatigue. Pouring on old school rock rhythms infused with a heavy-handed blues influence, MBP heats up the stage with a style that simultaneously channels elements of Jon Spencer and Eric Burdon in one tail-shaking bundle.

    “We believe in playing as hard as we can,” Betteridge explains. “We have a policy of not practicing unless we’re together. It’s about not thinking and just doing. It’s the same when we’re on stage. Pants will come off, things will happen. That’s how I wound up playing half of our Winnipeg show while naked.”

    Not afraid of getting physical, Betteridge and company trade in emo shoegazing for extreme ginch-gazing as they shed their clothing and inhibitions with equal aplomb. Stripped down to their bare essentials, it’s easy to see that Mark Birtles Project play every gig like it’s their last. And, given the unpredictable nature of their spastic melodies and explosive on-stage antics, it is entirely possible that any given show one or more Project members may succumb to a performance-related calamity.

    “One of the last times we performed live, our singer jumped off a PA onto my electric piano and smashed the legs out from under it!” Betteridge recalls fondly. “I guess it was a special moment, although I was kinda bummed that my keyboard never sounded the same again. We’ve just gotta do what we’ve gotta do. That’s our mantra. When we perform live, we try to leave it all out there. You shouldn’t leave that stage unless your panting and crawling or being helped off.“

Originally published August 2, 2007 in FFWD Magazine  by Christine Leonard

 

THE A-TEAM OF CALGARY, ALBERTA -- an interview with Pat Downing by Christine Leonard-Cripps

Zen and the art of rocking out

Calgary's A Team mix far-out philosophy with balls-out rock

According to Nietzsche, when you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you. Standing on the outer edge of the universe and daring to gaze beyond its boundaries, Calgary-based hip hop-meets-hard-rock dynamos A Team take paradoxical philosophizing to a whole new level.

    “There are five outer zones of existence,” guitarist and vocalist Pat Downing explains. “Sphere, cube, pyramid, blob and exit shell. Exit shell is where the edge of the universe starts. It’s like we’re a bird inside a giant worm and we’re so happy to be gorging on worm all around us that we don’t realize we’re being digested. The same thing goes on between us and our audience. It’s beautiful.”

    After a lengthy absence from the local rock ’n’ roll scene, a newly streamlined A Team emerged from their jam space (which they amicably share with local punksters The Motherfuckers) in the basement of the Castle Pub to reclaim their title as Calgary’s favourite band named after a popular ’80s TV show. Stepping back in front of the mic, Downing (ex The Dudes) and fellow founding team member Andy Sparacino (Tron from Fubar) began a journey that would see a multi-EP project originally known as the Pegasus Evolution series morph into a full-length album appropriately titled The Rebirth of Rock Therapy. Not only does their new album mark their first release in seven years, it also showcases the duo’s eerily intuitive metaphysical connection. Even more impressive than their ability to collaborate on a subliminal level is the sheer audacity with which Downing and Sparacino face the self-exposure that comes from stripping an ensemble cast down to a skeleton crew of players.

    “We trimmed the fat and did away with a lot of the things we’d always relied on.” Downing says. “In live performances, we are capable of operating as a two-man act. We work it by filling in the sound with wacky drum machines and keyboards. Right now, though, we’re performing as a four-piece with Peter Moersch on bass and Visar Dukadjini on drums. When we work together, we’re a full-on rock. As a band, you build yourself a paradigm and you don’t have to speak. We just feel our way around, moving between temporal phases. It all goes back to spheres in an infinitely large universe. We use the finite to expand the infinite. It’s all rock and roll.”

    Mixing up moustaches and flowers, as they put it, the group that brought you the infamous “Labatt, Labatt, Labatt Wildcat” song continues to employ the same glee-versus-terror formula that has made them such a sensation. Like their previous release, Non Merci: Situations in the Key of Sound 1994-1999, The Rebirth of Rock Therapy integrates seemingly divergent aspects of rap and rock into one power primordial force. Silver-tongued wordplay and raw guitar gallops pay tribute to the glory of early Wu-Tang Clan and the ejaculatory rapture of Ween back in their God Ween Satan days. Leaving heartaches and earaches in their wake, A Team are accomplished experts at what they do; pumping out heavy-handed, head-nodding rhythms laced with cathartic lyrics, all amplified and enhanced by a magnanimous onstage presence.

    “It’s all in the name of entertainment,” says Downing. “Putting smiles on people’s faces and getting them to think about hugs and high fives. Having been around since 1994, we have a lot of original songs to choose from, so we’re known for playing for three hours at a time without doing any covers. Yeah, we get way out on the shell.”

Connect with and listen to Calgary's A Team on MySpace

Originally published in FFWD Magazine August 9, 2007  by Christine Leonard

GRANDFATHER FIRE AND THE HOLY MORNING -- an interview with BT Fraser by Christine Leonard-Cripps

Walking the line

Grandfather Fire and the Holy Morning glow from dusk till dawn

They don't need no stinkin' water — Calgary's Grandfather Fire and the Holy Morning

Taking their name from a mysterious ancient ritual practiced by the Huichol Aztec Indians of Southern Mexico, Calgary’s Grandfather Fire and the Holy Morning aim to take the alt-rock experience to ecstatic new heights.

    Gleaning the concept of a peyote-fuelled vision quest from an Access Network documentary they stumbled across during an episode of collective boredom, lead singer-guitarist BT Fraser and his fellow peyoteros — Rich Friesen, Pete Glimm, Jzero Shuurman and Markus Overland — felt a strange affinity for the ceremony, meant to induce an enlightened state. Perhaps this spurred the band (known as Red Not Evil in its previous incarnation) into making a spiritual retreat of their own, as they withdrew to a secluded cabin in the woods to find the desired environment in which to record their self-titled debut.

    “It’s a very organic sound,” says BT Fraser of Grandfather Fire’s unique rock-meets-roots musical style. “We prefer to take an honest approach to our work. What’s the point of doing it if you’re just manufacturing something? Our music is a reflection of who we are and we wanted that to come across on our album.

    “We took off to a cabin that my dad built near Fernie, B.C. and spent four days recording live off the floor, then came back to Calgary to mix and produce it. We took a few liberties with the editing, but we don’t abuse it. We like to keep it pretty clean while maintaining the free-flowing aspect that we had during recording. The all-natural reverb of the cabin remains and that’s what gives the tracks such lush tones.”

    Overlaying tweaky guitar runs and bass notes that drop like bottomless pits, Grandfather Fire approach each of their cathartic compositions with equally distributed portions of humour and urgency. From heart-pounding tracks like “Redeye Reduction” to the resonating irony of “Meathook the Vegetarian,” Grandfather Fire’s desire to provoke a reaction extends beyond the group’s hard-to-recall moniker to their creative bent, which demands that a certain level of ambiguity and unpredictability be injected into each of their arrangements.

    “Like the name of our band, our music requires a closer look and some careful listening,” explains Fraser. “It may not be something that sticks with you the first few times you hear it. We definitely go for a big sound, it’s not all on the surface. There’s stuff going on that’s beyond pop. In our experience, grandfathers are these silent, stoic figures who are not necessarily trying to be the center of attention but are the quiet thinkers who say the right thing at the right time. That is somewhat how we approach things. Lyrically we emphasize a personal abstract rather than trying to hammer something home. We use words to build and hint at the shadow of an idea as opposed to getting too preachy. Although, I love making people uncomfortable.”

    Simultaneously challenging musical convention and their listening audience, Fraser and company bring all their creative fury to bear whenever they appear live. The five band members (really a rag-tag crew from a handful of other bands such as Gutterawl, Brittle Siren and Lucid 44) are in a constant state of flux, moving adeptly from instrument to instrument all the while sharing vocal duties. According to Fraser, this highly successful onstage chemistry comes from a shared aesthetic among musicians, one that venerates the cultural trappings of the past even as it ultimately moulds and shapes that which is yet to come. Further aligning themselves as raconteurs of the mystic realm, Grandfather Fire and the Holy Morning encourage fans to submit their dreams and good vibrations for interpretation via the band’s official website, www.grandfatherfire.com.

Originally published in FFWD Magazine July 19, 2007  by Christine Leonard

Lamb of God takes it all in with Sacrament

Baaaaaad to the bone Lamb of God defines American death metal by Christine Leonard December 14, 2006 Metalcore comes in many shapes and sizes but when you’re talking about Virginia’s nihilistic quintet, Lamb of God (L.O.G.), things couldn’t be any less cute and fluffy. Building their own vicious empire, these malevolent thrashers arose from the putrefied ashes of the band known as Burn the Priest. Eschewing their all-too-obvious moniker in favour of the curlicued creature biblically associated with Jesus Christ, they have gone on to achieve far greater heights than even they could have imagined. Founding member Chris Adler took a break from the band’s demanding tour schedule to share his insights and experiences as chief percussionist for L.O.G. "Our bass player John Campbell and I are the ones who started the band back in the day," Adler fondly recalls. "My brother Will is our main guitar guy and he’s always bringing in new guitar riffs for me to try out. I then have the advantage of taking my time and thinking about the perfect drum beats to go with his melodies. We don’t want to sound like your average Joes, but then again we’re not reinventing the genre or anything. We just want to create something genuinely unique. My part is to decide where my body’s going to be in the piece – where I want my limbs to fall amongst the guitar and vocals." Stepping out of the ordinary and finding new vistas to conquer has given Lamb of God the freedom to further explore their sound and to flesh out their take on American death metal. Looking back at a discography that encompasses releases such as Ashes of the Wake, As the Palace Burns and New American Gospel, the band is thrilled by the reception given to their DVD debut Killadelphia (Live), that gave many fans their first glimpse of L.O.G. in action. Since then the Atkins brothers along with fellow band members – guitarist Mark Morton and acid-throated howler Randy Blythe – have returned to the studio to hammer out their latest album Sacrament with the help of producer Machine (King Crimson, White Zombie, Godflesh). "Sacrament is not as progressive as it could have been, but by the same token we’re not trying to perpetuate the notion that we’re a partying groove metal kind of affair," Adler explains of their meticulous approach to the recording process. "Our goal was to select songs that include a variety of styles and to showcase our potential in the best light possible. There was a lot of pressure to do something we haven’t done before. Our previous albums have typically been dark and depressing, creepy and strange. We’ve done our best to break away from the two-and-half-minute formula; every song has a different vibe to it."

FEAR FACTORY - Interview with Burton Bell by Christine Leonard-Cripps

Don’t fear the reaper

Fear Factory remanufactures death metal

Churning out alt-metal thrash for over a decade-and-a-half, Fear Factory has earned legendary status among the myriad of industrial bands that emerged in the early ’90s. Founding member and vocalist Burton C. Bell was fresh from his days with Hate Face when he crossed paths with percussionist Raymond Herrera in Los Angeles. The two formed the band’s earliest incarnation under the name Ulceration. They quickly joined the lineup of a compilation entitled L.A. Death Metal and soon thereafter found themselves signed to Roadrunner Records.

Inspired to broaden their horizons the newly formed (and appropriately renamed) Fear Factory began experimenting with remixing techniques and adding new instruments, producers and players to their roster on a regular basis. By 1998 they had released an impressive array of albums including Soul of a New Machine, Fear is the Mind Killer, Demanufacture, Remanufacture (Cloning Technology), and Obsolete, and had established themselves as a force to be reckoned with.

Pioneering a new industrial genre and taking the hardcore scene by storm, Fear Factory continued to push the envelope with a unique esthetic that layers techno-oriented augmentation on top of classic hardcore metal. Dabbling with elaborate remixes of everything from Gary Newman’s "Cars," U2’s "I Will Follow" and Nirvana’s "School," Fear Factory have proven that they are comfortable enough in their own skins to step outside the box and create musical arrangements that appeal to their senses on all levels.

"When people ask what our influences are, I just tell them to look at the songs we’ve covered over the years," explains Bell of the band’s eclectic musical tastes. "It doesn’t matter what genre a piece comes from, we just have fun with it while trying to keep it recognizable. Our music is directed towards people who like everything from hardcore to industrial to new wave to pop."

This past fall Roadrunner Records released a Best of Fear Factory CD that has rekindled interest in the band’s oeuvre and recruited new adherents across the metal scene. By tying together such diverse elements into one intellectually stimulating and physically exhilarating package, Burton and Herrera have seemingly struck upon an inexhaustible well of musical inspiration that has proven to be a veritable fountain of youth. Backed by guitarist Christian Olde Wolbers and Strapping Young Lad bassist Byron Stroud, the group is eager to reconnect with its fanbase and re-establish their presence on the world stage.

"It’s almost overwhelming playing in front of an audience again. We’re revisiting material we haven’t dragged out in 10 years, but people seem to be pretty happy with the results. We usually focus on picking our heavier material, including a couple of tunes we haven’t performed live since 1994. It’s a real trip back to the rack, so to speak," says Bell.

"With our more recent albums like Digimortal, Archetype, and our latest release Transgression, I think one can perceive how our sound has subtly evolved on its own over time – there was certainly nothing deliberate about it."

Accustomed to touring with massive, million dollar productions such as Ozzfest and the inaugural Gigantour, Bell confirms that he is very much looking forward to engaging audiences on a more intimate basis. Hitting the highways with the Machines of War tour along with fellow headbangers Decapitated, Hypocrisy and Suffocation, Fear Factory is more than ready to assume its rightful place as the headlining act in the company of highly capable and compatible peers.

"I think that there are up-and-coming bands out there who represent our genre, but industrial music is not really getting much notice these days," says Bell of the current state of things. "Bands like Ministry and KMFDM are still around, but they’re on the backburner. Young bands that have evolved from the Swans, Einsturzende, Skinny Puppy and Nine Inch Nails are so hard to search out, they’re pretty much invisible and nobody has really made a dent in the scene.

"Basically, I’d have to say that industrial music hasn’t moved forward yet. I think someone needs to step up and take it all the way back to what it was originally about – rhythm and discordant cacophony."


by Christine Leonard

Originally published in FFWD Magazine December, 2006