Tritone, 2/12

Tritone was insane last night. We've never had so many people there on a Thursday night, and I don't think it would have been possible to fit more in. Hugs and kisses for everybody. We broke some other records too, like number of new tunes debuted at a single show. A few times every Tritone, we try to play music that we haven't played in public. Sometimes, it's music that we've never played together as a band. The amount of shouting and pointing ("the bridge!!! go to the f-in' bridge!!!") definitely increases during those moments, but we've got to feel out our new tunes live. Audience feedback is huge. If people stop moving, or begin deserting us, well, we know that something's not working. But many times, we've gotten a warm reaction and felt very affirmed. So thanks. We're listening to your listening.

The reason why we debuted so many new tunes and arrangements is because we're going into a studio on Sunday - two music industry majors from Drexel, Jeff and Emil, are recording WPO as part of their senior project. For us, it means an oppurtunity to record some of our new material, so we're gonna record these: 'Cala Daichovo' - a classic Romanian song called Calasul, which is typically played by cimbalom and fiddles, but which I (Gregg) arranged in a 9/8 rhythm called daichovo; I also alterred the harmony. 'Ileana' - a Romanian song we learned from Romica Puceanu; it'll be a duet for Petia and Jack to sing. 'Az Ti' - a Bulgarian song which I've also arranged. And then we'll try out some new tunes - Larry Tofts' 'Sedam Lavavu,' which is an odd circus romp in 7/8, and Brendan Cooney's 'John Petit's Big Dinner.' And hopefully we'll have enough time to plough through some other tunes we've been enjoying playing lately.

Thanks to everyone who came out last night and made the evening so fun and amazing. Thanks for bearing with us as we tried out some of the new tunes. We hope to see everyone on Feb. 27th at Rotunda. Info on that coming soon.

Day Trottin' Along

About 10 days ago, we were contacted by Daytrotter, a very unique music blog. Usually, bands passing through Illinois stop by their studio and do a quick, 4-song 2 hour recording session. The sound is live and loose, and they encourage bands to record new material, even some still in-process stuff. Sean of Daytrotter told us that were setting up shop at Miner St. Studios (Fishtown) in Philly for 2 days, and recording as many bands as possible; many Philly bands, including our friends Buried Beds, were represented, and bands travelled into town from NY and other places for the oppurtunity. Nick Krill, of Spinto Band, was the engineer.

We arrived yesterday, Thursday, at 3:30 to set up, and were told that we had between 4 and 6 to record. But at 3:30 another band was still playing, and they didn't end until 4:45. So we rushed up into the studio, a nice large room with vaulted ceilings and rich natural accoustics. We set up in a big circle, everyone in the same room ('WPO,' by contrast was recorded with each section of the band isolated, and it wasn't all recorded live), even the drums -me on some rattley Frankenstein kit and Jack on tapan - and Maura on violin. Nick wanted a natural room sound, so he didn't use many mics. We ended up adding a few for technical reasons, but anyhow.

We started recording around 5:30. Elliott had a gig at 6, so we only had his firepower for 30 minutes, and everyone else had to be out by 6:30, so we had essentially one hour to record 4 songs. That's incredibly rushed. But we're kind of used to that. We recorded 'WPO' in absolutely record time - 3 sessions, less than 12 hours total recording time. It's always nice to stop, fix mistakes, and experiment a few different ways with tunes - in a studio, everything is different - but then we've never known this luxury.

We started off with 'Ways Out,' a new tune of mine that's based on traditional gankino rhythm that's most popular in Macedonia (1-2-1--1-2-). Click here to watch/hear a gankino. It's become one of my favorite rhythms, and with 'Ways Out,' I wrote something that departs harmonically from tradition, but you can dance gankino along to it and it totally works. We also recorded my 'Minor Major Threat,' a punk rock kolo - the title is a tribute to Minor Threat, one of my favorite bands of all time, and it's also a reference to the scale the song is based on - the diminshed scale.

We also recorded 'Zhokul,' a Jewish song from Moldavia. I learned it by playing in the German Goldenshteyn band at the 2007 Montreal Jazz Fest. It's not the most interesting melody, but the accents in the melody make it groove, and awhile back I arranged it with a sa-sa beat, originally the Cuss Cuss riddim bass line, and some James Brown hits on the C section, and it's been a fun one for us to play for awhile now. And we wrapped the session with Saraiman, a classic Romanian song that Jack sings, which we've recently began playing with full brass band. Dawn played recorder actually in the studio, and we arranged it really quickly on the spot.

Kudos goes to Jim Parker, our new sousaphonic soul. I first met Jim in fall of 2007; we were both hired to play in the on-stage klezmer band for Frank London's musical, 'A Night in the Old Marketplace' (along with accordionist Lidia Kaminska and guitarist Skip Heller). He's a great player and a great guy. He did an amazing job sitting in with us at the January Tritone show and at sight-reading some difficult music yesterday. The Lord giveth, then taketh away, and then he giveth back with interest!

Lastly, is anyone going up to Goldenfest this weekend? If you like this music, it's absolutely the annual Balkan music bash you must check out! We played last year, but we're not playing this year, unfortunately - though I'll likely sit-in with Romashka. We hope to see you there!

2009

Hooray 2009, we're glad we're here! We're glad you're here too!

WPO kicked off 2009 at the Electric Factory opening for Gogol Bordello and it simply fucking rocked - there's no better way to explain it. Before we took the stage, a joyous energy was tangible in the house, circulating all around, and the house was packed. We had arrived early, had a rehearsal (not something we do very often), ate a good meal (we do this often), and then waited around to take the stage. This was our first big rock show, and really first rock show since our appearance at Danger Danger in early 2007, so we weren't sure if a rock crowd would like us. When we finally climbed up the stairs and took the stage, the roar coming from the floor below and the balcony above put a huge charge in us.

We let Elliott start us off with some horn calls before we all crashed in with the Prelude. Our brass section was bigger on this night - Larry Toft wasn't there, but filling his size 14 shoes were Dan Blacksberg and Rachel Lemisch, both excellent klezmer trombonists with roots in Philly. We played 'I Don't Believe!' first, as it tends to set the tone - it shifts from a heavy metal funk groove to a cocek and ends with a blast beat polka. We weren't sure punk rock kids would dig a band that didn't have guitars, stage theatrics, or a snarling front man, so we packed our set with the hardest-hitting tunes we have. We played some tunes from our album, 'Out of the Fly Bottle' and 'Epstein.' Another guest on the gig, harmonica virtuouso Jason Rosenblatt, from Montreal and the band Shtreiml, took an amazing solo on Epstein (this guy is a deep musician and we wish he wasn't moving back to Canada). We also played some new jams, like 'Zhokul' and 'Minor Major Threat.' After 45 minutes, WPO is usually just getting warmed up and ready to play a few hours more, but on this night we had to stop early and put off the 2nd and 3rd sets until the afterparty.

The rest of the night was awesome. Some of us met up with friends in the audience, while others got smashed at the backstage party. The midnight mummers, most of whom we know from around town - many artists, some musicians, some simply hip brothers and sisters - had a room with a keg of Yuengling and made a very raucous theatrical party back there, with children dancing on pool tables, having snowball fights with confetti, and playing tag amidst the chaos. (Kids have a way of becoming the life of the party, and they're always the coolest ones - why is that?) It was for me like a New Year's house party in West Philly, except that we were behind a stage that Gogol Bordello was playing on, and occasionally two dancing girls would run past us and then run past us again but with different clothes the second time.

Most of us dug Gogol Bordello's set. The tunes are catchy and anthemic, and the energy is amazing. I wish the accordion and fiddle players had more room to stretch out and play, because they're bad motherfuckers. Their attempts at reggae and funk didn't groove very hard - I'd take Fugazi's bass and drums any day. But Eugene certainly covered it well with his 'wild and crazy guy' routine (the champagne bottles exploding like fireworks, the knocking-everything-over routine that he must have learned from my cat), the dancing girls, and the coordinated band stepping routines. Clearly, the show isn't in the songs. GB spent like 1/4 of their time playing songs, 1/4 dancing around to dance loops, and the other 1/2 was fascinating: they'd just hit the final chord and hold it for an eternity, getting louder, softer, louder, softer, with the guitarist noodling a bit and then the fiddle, the whole band sound swirling and psychadelic, and all the while, Eugene would be performing some act (like pouring bottles of wine into a red bucket) and the girls would be going through a series of poses. It's a good shtick, but we weird. The GB dancers seemed just a version of canned laughter (see Zizek about this, around 17 minutes), and it just felt fake and unpunk, to me. The content and message were dwarfed by the theater. For me, punk rock is Fugazi and the Discord scene, and also the Clash, Buzzcocks, Wire, Slits (disclosure: I play in Ari Up's band), DK, Sonic Youth, and so on. Punk is about the song, message, live nerve, and one's authentic attitude - indeed, the ethos is to be genuine, self-reliant, and honest. Society is a lie, a corporate-created system of manipulation; frighteningly, I'm not sure which side Gogol Bordello is on. John Lydon says it pretty will in this interview (about half-way through it gets good).

To reconnect with our roots, we left Electric Factory around 1:30 am and headed to West Philly, to a warehouse on 50th and Beaumont. Not everyone made it, so we switched instruments around and then invited people to sit-in and jam with us. Dan Blacksberg ended up playing electric bass most the night, with Dawn, Larry, and Elliott jamming out. I played a drumset without a kick pedal, Jack played bass drum. It didn't smell good down there - mold and B.O., but it felt great. Towards the end of the night, when some people were passing out and the others were dragging themselves around (it wasn't as lively a party as we were expecting), I asked if someone had a song they wanted to sing. Some shit-faced guy said he wanted to sing 'Old Man River,' so we did it. It was unbelievable that we pulled it off, and just unbelievable that it happened at all. For me, that guy's performance was the highlight of the afterparty, but I have a strange sense of humor.

Since then, we played another awesome party, one of the best yet, at Tritone on Jan. 8. Before that we played Time (12th and Sansom) with a fusion quintet on the first friday, which we'll be doing quasi-regularly from now on. And last Sunday, while the Eagles crushed the Giants in the Meadowlands, WPO played our concert with Camerata Philadelphia. That was a blast. The Camerata players are incredible and played our tunes so well. Gabor Kari sang 'Fall' with us, and it sounded very classical. It was generally over-the-top and totally funny, at least to me. We hope to collaborate with more orchestras in the future. Speaking of punk rock...

Camerata featuring West Philadelphia Orchestra

WPO will more an orchestra than ever when we collaborate with Steve Framil's Camerata Chamber Orchestra on Sunday, January 11th, at 3 pm at West Catholic High School's auditorium (45th and Chestnut St. in W. Philly). This concert features Camerata performing works of Tchaikovsky, and then WPO will join them to perform 5 original tunes in full orchestration - Gregg’s Hora, Other Gods, What Innocence and What Surprise, Fall, and Gregg’s new gankino. The lush orchestrations, prepared by Gregg and Brendan, transform these tunes, adding drama, movement, and excitement. It'll be the biggest WPO sound to date. We'll also play some traditional tunes by ourselves.

With any luck, we'd like to continue working with other orchestras to present this type of collaborative concert all over the place. An essential part of the WPO sound is the string section. With Camerata, we'll have an additional 3 first violins, 3 second violins, 2 violas, 2 cellos, and a contrabass to work with. And with such an expanded instrumentation, we have so many more options - more colors, textures, and so forth. Given these possibilities, we have the potential to transform WPO tunes completely.

The author is especially excited to hear his Gregg’s Hora, which was composed originally for Klez Dispensers, performed by WPO and Camerata. It begins as a zhok, a traditional Jewish dance, with a delicate, lilting melody played by the clarinet. But this is offset by a highly chromatic section, in which Elliott Levin will perform a swirling solo at the end of the piece. Nothing Left, recorded on 'WPO,' will sound more like it was originally intended to be performed, with the string ensemble alternating with the brass section. And we're happy to introduce a new singer, Gabor, who will perform the vocal on Cooney's 'Fall.'

Remembering show #1 - 10/30/06

On the occasion of the 2nd anniversary of our first performance, I'd like to recount that night when it began. It was a special night for many reasons, and though our playing wasn't so sharp, the tone and feel of the band was set that night.

The hardest part of starting a band is finding interested and dedicated people. For a few months, I told everyone I knew that I was starting a group and looking for musicians. I knew Janos from Fiume, a local hang in W. Philly; one night, he told me that he played violin in conservatory in Hungary, but hadn't touched it in about 10 years.  I met Jack outside a concert; he overheard me talking with Josh Marcus about setting up a Balkan music band, and asked, 'do you need a bass player?'  And then one night at rehearsal he said, 'I'd like to sing this song,' Geaba Mai Ma Duc Acasa, 'and I've learned the Romanian.' Then he made a hair-raising sound with his voice (the first I'd ever heard him sing), and that was it, he was our singer. 


Kimbal Brown started coming to my Wednesday jazz gig at Fiume regularly. He had a unique melodic approach on the trumpet, was a great drinking mate - by 'good drinking mate' I mean someone who encourages you to drink unreasonable amounts - and we quickly became good friends.  Brendan Cooney and I lived together in a large West Philly house with other musicians/artists.  As the first rehearsal came together on the porch, I suggested to Brendan, who was practicing piano at the moment, that he grab his banjo and jam with us. He did, and was intrigued enough by the music to figure out how to adapt cimbalom parts for the banjo. He could also play trombone a bit, which he did on some early gigs to cover the bass parts. Drinking one night, at Fiume again, Brendan and I sat down to share a table with Jacob Mitas. Somehow our conversations merged, and we talked for hours about musical performance across the world that involved self-flagellation and other forms of masochism. Then he said he'd like to try to play viola with us.

As for Amnon, he was a guitarist I knew from the jazz scene, but I didn't know him well. He was obviously a good musician and a unique guy, but who knew that he could barely play accordion too?  And I really can't remember how we met Ian, who played a little Croatian guitar. Again, I think it was a mutual friend. Ian played with us only a few months.

So this was the band for the first gig - probably the most accidental assortment of musicians in any band I've played with.  Local punk imprasario John Emory booked the show, and put us on last after a few punk bands. The Avant Gentleman's Lodge was homebase for our good friends, Make a Rising, and back then, those guys would have ridiculous seasonal parties and concerts. We decided to march to the gig and really make a statement, saying what we weren't sure. Jack played bass drum (one can't march with an upright bass) and Cooney covered the bass on trombone. Some friends met us on the porch, and as we processed through W. Philly, some people who heard us jumped into the little mob following the little band. For about 30 minutes we marched, all of us wearing suits and various masks and hats. We didn't really know what we were doing.

Marching and playing through the neighborhood was exciting and joyous; it felt bold, assertive, and like a beginning somehow.  At the lodge, we hung out and partied upstairs. We danced, drank beers, caroused, and just joked and laughed about stuff. I was nervous about how we'd play, and so we rehearsed a few tunes too.  Then we took the stage and blasted our way through 45 minutes of music. The show went off ok. That night we played a few tunes that are still our favorites to play now: Saraiman, Burkan Cocek, Manea cu Voca, etc.



The photos here are by Ana Calleja, who was couchsurfing with us from Spain.  They brought energy and fun to the procession, mixed strong drinks, and helped spark the dancing. Several other good friends were there too, including Beth Nixon, who first got us involved with Spiral Q, and Ashley Deekus, who nows plays percussion with us occasionally. Not all the pieces were in place, but the feeling - the good cheer, the heart - certainly were.