Air

It’s just a way for us to breathe, and to have new ideas, and a new way of seeing music.

story by Spencer Lokken
photo by Claude Gassian

The last time you had vivid memories of a pleasant dream, do you remember what sort of musical score accompanied your subconscious adventures? Probably not, but if in the future you are somehow able to program your brain with an mp3-style play list before drifting off to that other world, be sure to include some numbers by the hypnotizing French duo, Air. After all, the imaginative elegance of their music is far more meaningful in the bedroom than on the dance floor.

Jean-Benoit Dunckel and Nicolas Godin of Air create what some might define as well-arranged, extremely sophisticated elevator music. The two men grew up in Versailles, yet didn’t actually meet until they enrolled in the same college. They started recording as Air in 1995 and gained popularity in the clubbing community by releasing singles on the ‘Mo Wax and Source labels. It turns out, however, that the band would eventually appeal to a much wider audience than the young weekend warriors on the nightclub scene.

Air simply had very little in common with artists like fellow countrymen Daft Punk, whose cosmic pop was starting to infiltrate dance clubs Stateside. Air’s debut album, 1998′s Moon Safari, is a collection of uplifting synth-fueled pop that was met with praise by critics worldwide. Contrary to popular belief, they played all of their own instruments and succeeded in tapping into an overall sound that was both laid-back and compelling. This was a rare combination for downtempo electronic music at the time, and just prior to the ludicrous “chill out” compilation craze pushed by corporate clubbing giants overseas. Moon Safari is perfect background music, yet far too captivating to be heard while in the dentist’s chair. In fact, the immense popularity of the album is probably a Muzak executive’s worst nightmare.

Not the type of artists interested in repeating themselves, Dunckel and Godin then constructed the soundtrack to Sofia Coppola’s directorial debut, The Virgin Suicides. The film perfectly captured the complexities of adolescence and would not have caused such a hefty emotional impact on its viewers had Air not provided the story with their haunting sonic goodness. They showed a much darker side to their art this time around, and die hard Safari fans were let in on the secret of the band’s versatility.

In addition to being exceptionally talented at a plethora of creative roles, the pair are adamant about maintaining a certain level of simplicity and purity in their music. The second studio album, 10,000 Hertz Legend, could very well have been a self-assessed exam for the two to explore those limits. It contained impressive collaborations with esteemed musicians like Beck, yet the album as a whole felt a tad scattered and Air’s true talents were overshadowed by broad strokes of experimentation. Dunckel and Godin themselves have admitted that they too think it’s strange – claiming that 10,000 Hertz was somewhat of a research project.

The band went back to its roots on the dazzling new Air album, Talkie Walkie. It hit shelves in January and gives longtime fans everything they’ve been waiting for and more. With this release, we see the two perfect their signature sound as well as hint to what the future may bring from them. The LP’s ten tracks flow together seamlessly, yet are just as magical on their own. It seems this is far too seldom a notion in contemporary pop, and it could very well be the band’s affinity for classical music that caused such an occurrence.
Songs like “Cherry Blossom Girl” and “Biological” bring back those lost feelings of having your first crush, while stand out “Surfing on a Rocket” is the kind of masterpiece that will make you smile uncontrollably on the worst of days. The goal of the album was essentially to create a pure collection of love songs, a difficult feat considering the overwhelming amount of sappy ballads that currently litter our airwaves. The two ditched the habit of inviting guest vocalists into the studio, and that decision paid off for them in a major way. Not only does their live instrumentation shine through, but Dunckel and Godin also prove that they are fully capable of handling all the vocals themselves.

Air received guidance from Radiohead super producer Nigel Godrich, and the timing to bring in such an accomplished outsider’s wisdom couldn’t have been more perfect. It seems as if Godrich gave the two men the confidence they needed in the booth and we, the fans, are thankful to him for that.

When Chicago Innerview got a chance to speak with shy guy Jean-Benoit Dunckel, it was just before Air’s tour was to begin. After what was sure to have been a hectic week of press and interviews, he came across over the phone the same way the group does through your speakers: intelligent, relaxed, and refined.

When asked about the live show and the difference we may see as a result of their new approach to recording, Dunckel jokingly admitted that, “In the studio we do what we want. On stage we do what we can.” He told me that the stage performance is based on emotion – where it’s important for everyone to share a certain energy. He further commented that “the main objective is to sing well and to do something understandable.”
In this instance, by “understandable” he means one’s ability to decipher the words, not the message. You see, the two have incredibly thick French accents, and Dunckel let me know that even if they lived in the States for the rest of their days, the accents would most likely never subside. I personally think they add to the enigmatic group’s allure, so other than the painstaking process of transcribing our interview, you’ll hear no complaints out of me. I can only imagine what he thought of my accent after living in the Midwest my entire life. C’est la vie, I suppose.

There’s an amazing track on the new album called “Mike Mills” (a longtime friend and director of a handful of Air’s videos) where the listener is mesmerized by the string arrangement and an eerily trenchant, yet repetitive piano solo. The song sounds simple enough, but therein lies the beauty of groups like Air. Much like the very name Dunckel and Godin chose to record under, with this tune, everything is not always as transparent as it seems. When you break down each section of the piece, you realize the way they (along with Serge Gainsbourg collaborator Michel Colombier) have constructed it is sheer genius.

I asked Dunckel about a part in Mills’ excellent 1998 documentary on Air called Eating, Sleeping, Waiting, and Playing. In this particular scene, the cameraman captures a moment where one of the musicians on tour with the band at the time comments on Air’s seemingly effortless ability to profoundly affect people with harmony. Musicians across the globe devote their entire lives to achieve such a success (with an all too familiar outcome), and I was curious to find out if Dunckel had any secrets he was willing to reveal. Without hesitation, he told me that they have absolutely no rules in their creative process of structuring a song and that, “In music, anything is possible. There’s always something new in the recording of each song…The main idea is coming from the process of recording.”

It’s this type of concept I wish more labels were willing to embrace. Air currently records on the stellar Astralwerks, where they (along with a slew of other top-notch artists) seem free to explore their creativity. Dunckel is right, anything is possible in music, and I’m afraid more and more aspiring musicians feel as if they have to conform to some sort of set formula in order to achieve success. (“American Idol”, anyone?)

I wondered what other music Dunckel thought Air fans listened to and additionally, who has influenced the band’s sound over the years. “I don’t know why, but I know that Air fans know a little bit about music,” he said. “They know many, many bands…that’s why everything we do, we try to think about our fans. They’re the base. For us, in the beginning it was David Bowie and the Beatles. Nicolas was really inspired by Funkadelic and bands like that. And I think, also, the main influence is classical music. In terms of arrangement, classical music offers really, really high level compositions. It’s just a way for us to breathe, and to have new ideas, and a new way of seeing music.”

Every project Air is a part of is a reaction to their previous body of work. Dunckel’s admission that they create their music to cure themselves and that it’s a form of “medicine” is a testament to that. The final track on the new album is the stunning “Alone in Kyoto”. It was used to help audiences get inside the heads of the two main characters in everyone’s favorite film of last year, Lost in Translation. We can only dream of what Air will pluck out of the sky next.

Air will play at the Riviera April 20.

Blonde Redhead

It’s good to change.

story by Michelle C. Liffick
photo by Josh Rothstein

Blonde Redhead is composed of twin brothers Simone (drums) and Amedeo Pace (guitars, vocals), along with Kazu Makino (vocals, guitars), who met at an Italian restaurant in New York City in 1993. Their name comes from a song by New York no-wavers DNA. The Pace brothers were educated at the Berklee School of Music in Boston and moved to NYC after finishing school to, in essence, forget all of the formal stuff they learned and do their own thing. Makino was formerly an art student.

BR has made many records in the years since they met, including their most successful effort, Melody of Certain Damaged Lemons (Touch & Go, 2000). Between the time that BR made Melody and their new 2004 release, Makino was injured in a horseback riding incident and the band unfortunately had to take some time off. The music that BR puts out has been placed in many rock critic files – experimental rock, art-rock, avant-rock, etc.

For me, they don’t necessarily fit into any one genre. In my opinion, the only description that seems to hold true is “haunting.” Their sound can be deceptively soft. On the other hand, at times, their music drives itself into passionate, seemingly repressed frenzies. It’s not weird or odd. It’s not hot or cold. It’s just, well…different…and lovely. And, fortunately, BR now has recently released the latest edition of their sound into the world with Misery is a Butterfly (4AD, 2004).

I’ll admit, I’ve not yet picked up the new record. BUT, I will eventually buy it – and, more likely sooner than later. I’m just a bit low on cash right now. However, I was checking out the free poster bin in a local record store when I realized the music playing in the store was both lovely, haunting, melancholy, and strangely familiar. And before I could stop myself, in true to High Fidelity-esque record-store-cliché style, I found myself asking one of the poor clerks, “Is this the new Blonde Redhead record?” And, of course, it was.

Chicago Innerview caught up with Blonde Redhead’s Simone Pace recently, on the day before he left to go on tour in the U.S.

Blonde Redhead recently left Touch & Go and signed on with 4AD, Pace told us. 4AD had expressed interest and eventually sent one of their reps to the studio to visit while Blonde Redhead was finishing up Misery. According to Pace, the guy was just “really, really nice” and they “cooked dinner for him.” BR did three records on Touch & Go and thought, “It’s good to change.” Also, Pace shared that, “We wanted to own our own record and we wanted to license it and that’s not Touch & Go’s policy to do that.”

So, for Misery, the three of them “advanced the money ourselves” and got to make “decisions not based on the budget,” but what they considered to be right for the record. For 2000′s Melody, BR was happy to get to spend three weeks in the studio. The making of Misery took longer. “We did three weeks of basic tracks and then we did two weeks of mixing and recording bass and strings…almost five weeks.” And, again, Guy Picciotto (think Fugazi – with whom Blonde Redhead toured in the late 1990s) was the producer.

“Every record is a big change, I think,” Pace says. “I think you always try to make each record different and to do the most that you can…that dictates to what extent the record is gonna be different. And I think for this record, we really wanted to pay attention to more of the details and more of the orchestration…and to complete some of the things we didn’t complete [with other records].” So, with Misery, the change is attributable to “allowing ourselves to do things that we didn’t do before.”

BR began their 6-week long tour of the U.S. in support of Misery during March. After playing the U.S., they head to Europe, to Japan, and, finally, to Australia.

Blonde Redhead will play with the Secret Machines at the Abbey Pub April 2 and 3.

Enon

I don’t think that everyone feels one way every single day…Sometimes I think that most people probably also feel kind of psychotic, and I think those colors should be allowed to be seen. It’s not necessarily about being eclectic; it’s just that you don’t feel the same all the time, so why should your music?

story by Michelle C. Liffick
photo by Brad Miller

A great buddy of mine always has his ear to the ground as far as what’s good in indie rock and, for years, he’s been singing (often drunk off his ass and off key, but always passionately) the praises of Enon. Because of this slurred but well-informed song, over the last few years I’ve seen Enon play several times in Chicago – at the Fireside Bowl, at the Empty Bottle, and with Interpol last summer at a festival on Sheffield. And I still trust my buddy’s taste. In fact, I might trust it more.

John Schmersal started Enon with Rick Lee and Steve Calhoon (both of NYC’s Skeleton Key), not long after Schmersal decided it was time to leave his Midwestern roots for New York City (he’s from Dayton, Ohio, and lived for a bit in Kentucky). Today, Enon is still a 3-piece and consists of Schmersal (guitar, bass, keys, vocal), Toko Yasuda (vocals, bass, keys), and Matt Schulz (drums). And, yes, they all have a past – including Schmersal’s with Brainiac, Yasuda’s with Blonde Redhead and The Lapse, and Schulz’s with The Lab Partners.

Over the last few years, as Enon’s albums caught the attention of critics and fans, attempts to place this band in a genre have yielded the following descriptions of its sound: new-wave, no-wave, electroshock, synth-funk, and art rock. Some of the influences attributed to Enon by critics include Tom Tom Club, Love, early Cure, Japanese pop and punk, Superchunk, the Kinks, Thomas Dolby, Joe Jackson, Black Sabbath, and, of course, Brainiac.

Recently, Chicago Innerview had the opportunity to talk to John Schmersal in New York via telephone.

Though he doesn’t particularly recall being a big fan, Schmersal said that, “My parents told me I liked Neil Diamond a lot when I was younger.” He saw him playing “Coming to America” on cable television once while on tour and “the whole crowd was really insane…like a rallying cry …almost political.”

According to Schmersal (and their tour schedule), “we tour a lot.” Also, in an effort to remain independent, “we pay on a van every month,” and, yes, he has to work other jobs to pay the rent, etc., in NYC. “I had a bunch of different regular [jobs]…I had a really incredible music job for awhile [working] for a company developing music for cartoons and then selling them to bigger companies.” Lately, according to Schmersal, “It’s been impossible to find part-time gigs here.” Luckily, “I’ve done a lot of musical jobs here too – in reality I find it hard to see myself doing anything else.”

According to Schmersal, “It’s kind of, for me, way more important to have longevity and to be able to do things the way we want to do them rather than make it big and be super high-profile.” Schmersal has observed that music is often, sadly, marketed such that what’s popular is “the flavor of the month.” And, kidding, he says “I blame the British.” As a way of explaining, he tells us “the British are known for sensationalizing and then trashing later.”

Schmersal is not complaining. He makes a concerted effort to avoid the cliché of the guy in the band talking about “the trouble with the music business” and he avoids the discussion about “good and evil as far as the corporate world goes [because] it’s a futile argument.” But, he explains, “being on a large label is a consequence…it’s a gamble.” For some artists, the big label is the right place to be because those guys will do stuff for people who “won’t do stuff for themselves.”

Enon would rather continue to do its own thing working with labels like Touch & Go. “Luckily we don’t have that stuff with Touch & Go.” The members of Enon still flyer for their shows. “We’re kind of a DIY canvassing circuit,” Schmersal says. “It’s always really important to maintain that kind of stuff…and to be with the people.” This is why, when Enon tours, “we’ll do in-stores if there’s not an all ages club.”

As modest as this guy from Dayton is, it’s quite clear that the work is paying off. The first release under the Enon moniker was 2000′s Believo! (See Thru Broadcasting). Pitchfork gave it an 8.0. Then, after Schmersal got together with Yasuda and Schulz, Enon released High Society (Touch & Go) in 2002. High Society has been called “a dance record for the hooded sweatshirt crowd” – and I think this is a pretty descent description. Pitchfork gave High Society an 8.8.

Enon’s most recent release is Hocus Pocus (Touch & Go, 2003). The tracks are, like those on High Society, widely diverse. One critic basically said it’s not for the patient listener. Other reviewers have complimented the record, stating that many of the tracks would easily stand out even amongst High Society’s gems.

Schmersal once told a reporter this, which I think sums up Enon quite nicely: “I don’t think that everyone feels one way every single day…Sometimes I think that most people probably also feel kind of psychotic, and I think those colors should be allowed to be seen. It’s not necessarily about being eclectic; it’s just that you don’t feel the same all the time, so why should your music?”

Enon will play with Pinback and Make Believe at the Logan Square Auditorium April 17.

Fareed Haque & Goran Ivanovic

In America, everybody is from someplace else anyway, so I believe there is a big future for this type of music.

story by David Witter
photo by Soren McCarty / www.musicimagery.com

To many music fans, the term “crossroads” refers to two country roads in Mississippi where Robert Johnson allegedly met the devil and learned the blues. But for Goran Ivanovic and Fareed Haque, the “crossroads” is Macedonia, a region in what was formerly Yugoslavia.

The Chicago guitar duo believes that this mountainous area best represents the place where the atonal scales of India, the gypsy and folk music of Eastern Europe, the Flamenco guitar of Spain and the rhythms of Turkey and North Africa have been joined to create a musical tapestry. Sewn from the strings of two master classical/jazz guitarists, this tapestry is ripe with images of slow burning fires and gypsy caravans traveling across the mountains.

“The area of Macedonia and the Balkans has been lived in, conquered or occupied by peoples and armies ranging from Russians, Turks, The Mongols, Barbarians and the Gypsies, who originally made their way from India and Persia,” Haque told Chicago Innerview. “But it is also an area of great culture, influenced by the classical music and culture of Germany, Austria, Italy, Russia, and other European nations. So it is from this melting pot that we try and draw this great musical blend.”

Aptly titled Seven Boats, the second CD from these Chicagoans/world citizens brings together musical elements from all seven continents. But in this era where almost everyone can access music, culture and art from Rimini to Rogers Park with one click of a mouse, Seven Boats is drawn from what may be several lifetimes of musical and life experience on the part of Ivanovic and Haque.

The more established of the duo, Haque is recognized by musicians and critics alike for combining sound-barrier breaking speed with precise combinations of notes and tones that seem to exceed the limits of that small wooden box. Born in l963 to a Pakistani father and a Chilean mother, Haque has also enjoyed extensive stays in Spain, France, Iran, Pakistan, and Chile.

Listening to him play, you can somehow hear faint beats, cries, and nuances from these far away countries in each echoing tremolo. This background, combined with solid schooling in jumping jazz, helped Haque quickly gain a local reputation at Chicago clubs like The Green Mill in the early 1980s. Almost as fast as a scale in 11/8 time, he was then recruited to play and record with the likes of Dave Holland, Sting, Arturo Sandoval, Paquito D’ Rivera, Joe Henderson, Ramsey Lewis, and Joe Zawinul. It was while touring with the Weather Report co-founder and jazz legend that Haque was smitten by the gypsy bug.

“I was touring Europe with Joe Zawinul when we came across a troupe of gypsies,” Haque says. “They were playing this incredible guitar and so I stopped and we started jamming. Whether they are young or old, the gypsies play music 24/7.”

While Haque discovered the music of Eastern Europe, one solo from this fiery bearded Balkan tells you that Ivanovic was born into it. The son of Serbian and Serbo-Croatian parents, Ivanovic discovered guitar at the age of nine. “I grew up listening to Macedonian folk music, the music of the gypsies, off scales from India as well as, of course, classical and popular music and some jazz,” Ivanovic says.

But when Ivanovic talks about playing “Balkan Blues”, he isn’t simply coining an astute alliteration. In 1990, civil war in Yugoslavia sent his world literally crashing down. At 12 he was separated from his parents, who deemed that his life would be safer and his talents better developed at the Mozarteum in Salzburg, Austria. After studying classical guitar, Ivanovic emigrated to the United States. Here he was re-united with his parents, and later met Haque.

“I first met Goran [Ivanovic] as a student who wanted to learn about jazz,” Haque says. “But we ended up playing together and his style of music and playing was so cool that I went from helping to arrange a few tunes to eventually teaming up with him for what became our first album.”

The CD, titled Macedonian Blues, Laments and Dances, was released in 2002 by Proteus Entertainment. Through its musical demeanor and tone, it eschewed the popular myths and stereotypes of the gypsies: men smashing glasses against the wall and beautiful girls dancing seductively in the firelight. Instead, the duo’s slow, ringing notes on songs like “The Saddest of All” and “Macedonian Girl” paint a picture of generations of weary refugees journeying across moonlit mountains. Other songs, like “Romantico”, take a slight cue from Gypsy jazz founder Django Reinhardt. Once again, the tolling chords and beautiful lines seem to paint a musical picture of a Parisian café – not in full swing – but near dawn, after all the customers have left.

The critical and commercial response to the disk was enough that the duo will be releasing a follow up disk at their April appearance at The HotHouse.

“The first record had a couple of real good tunes, and it turned out to be one of Fareed’s best sellers,” Ivanovic said. “So we felt the urge to come up with a second CD, which I think will be even better than the first because we have learned more about playing with each other.”

Unlike more familiar groups such as the Gypsy Kings, who combine “gypsy sounds” with rocking 4/4 beats and a standard rhythm section, Haque and Ivanovic’s Seven Boats is all acoustic guitar. It also features songs in 7/8, 5/8, and 11/8 time, sequences not familiar to many Americans. But the duo believes that listeners are ready for these more pure sounds, and that world music/gypsy jazz is a genre ripe for musical ears.

“Now you can hear music from all over the world via the Internet, so musical borders are continually being broken,” Ivanovic says. “In America, everybody is from someplace else anyway, so I believe there is a big future for this type of music.”

Fareed Haque & Goran Ivanovic will play at HotHouse April 4. Haque will also play with Funkadesi at the Double Door April 9.