Sound Stories & Interviews

Bluegrass is only skin deep. Tony Furtado very well might seem like a perfectionist upon first inspection. But that might not be completely accurate. First he's not a jerk. Invariably, perfectionists are jerks, mostly by necessity. Striving for perfection just has that effect on people. Perhaps it's more accurate to just say that Furtado really cares about his music.
 
Furtado is packing his bags for a trip to Boston when I catch up with him on a Friday afternoon and he's telling me about the plans for his new record, which is the reason he's heading across the country from his home in Portland. About a year and a half ago, Furtado released Thirteen, his 13th record featuring 13 songs (not a coincidence) and while the CD enjoyed a favorable response, he nonetheless had some reservations about the product. And this is where the hints of perfectionism come through - only to be quickly and casually quelled by an air of realism that seems to have been shaped by Furtado's lengthy recording career.
"In the end you just have to let it go. Everyone around me is like 'this is great!' so you have to kind of be like, 'cool,' and let it go," Furtado says.

DBT is coming to ouR house. Can I get a hell, yeah!When your Alabama/Georgia-based band features a three-guitar attack and you have two albums with the word "South" in the title and a third with the word Alabama in it, it's sort of hard to escape the Southern Rock label.
 
In the case of the Drive-by Truckers, it may be well earned. But it's a little unfortunate because the band, which makes an unexpected stop in Bend next week, has pretty much transcended the Southern Rock genre, bearing little resemblance to previous torch bearers like Molly Hatchet and Lynyrd Skynyrd. You won't find any cliché two-guitar harmonies on Truckers albums or in its shows. There are no cowboy hats and giant belt buckles; no Stars and Bars on the band's tee shirts.
While the band often wears its Southern pride on its sleeve, it's an aching pride. At their best, the band's songwriters - at least five different writers have contributed songs to band's studio albums over the years - explore themes that resonate well beyond the South. The band's songs, which are defined by their storybook narratives, tend to focus on ordinary people whose lives fall apart by violence, drug abuse, sickness, death and poverty.

Nylon is always in style
David Bowie and Dennis Rodman face new extra-terrestrial competition in the form of Taboo (guitar), Intellijamus (bass), Otto E. Roticize (drums) and their adopted father Dr. Wonder Bred (keys) of Seattle's Super Sonic Soul Pimps.
According to the band's Website (which we take as gospel, as we do all Websites), the three "humaliens" were adopted by Dr. Bred after the death of their pimp father in the heat of "cruel alien passion" with the triplet's alien mother. The three hybrid triplets and their adopted mad scientist father have managed to keep under government radar long enough to release three CDs and gather quite the following of fans.
While their ancestral planet is unnamed, it's probably somewhere near whatever galaxy Parliament and George Clinton hail from. Super Sonic Soul Pimps spin out a blend of funk, rock and even some metal-sounding songs that are unlike anything you've ever heard. From weird Axl Rose-style screams and Beavis and Butt-head voices to funked out guitar riffs and beats, SSSP never fails to surprise their human listener. And they do it all in skin-tight leotards because whatever planet they're from they clearly believe that spandex is a right not a privilege.

Jah Man!On a freezing cold Friday night on the last day of November, my friend and I throw back our margaritas, bundle up and head out into the snow to make our way to Armadillo's Burritos in Keene, New Hampshire to see a band called Roots of Creation. Even though we get there early, the bar is already filled and the beer line goes almost to the door. I'm skeptical about the band, but by the second song, I'm sold. Roots of Creation has that sort of effect on people. Seven months and one cross-country move from Vermont to Bend later, it seems like the band has followed me across the continent for two Central Oregon shows.
The New Hampshire reggae-fueled jam band is set to light up Les Schwab Amphitheater this Sunday for a free Summer Sundays gig, then return just a week later to play the Bite of Bend. The band has perfected a mix of intelligent lyrics (think a less political Rage Against The Machine) and a laid-back reggae feel (similar to Sublime) but no two songs are exactly alike. Whether it's the infectious pop tune "That's How Strong My Love Is," the smooth Marley-esque crooning about utopian society in "Babylon" or straight-up guitar-driven rock jam in "(A) Peace, Love and Music," this band keeps the listener interested. And just when you think you might have their sound pigeonholed they burst out with a soul-infused "Breathe It > Exhale" and "Made for Me," a quiet little rock song with a tinge of twangy country guitar. The band, which cites everyone from Sublime to Paul McCartney and Operation Ivy as influences, manages to tie everything into a cohesive unit with consistent vocals and beats.

Okay, so which one is the devil?The Devil Makes Three is used to inspiring confusion. When the Davis, California-based trio played one of the last shows at the Grove about a year ago, there were a lot of people excitedly talking about the "bluegrass band" playing that night.
But as guitarist and lead singer Pete Bernhard, as well as anyone who's ever seen the drummer-less, almost acoustic trio knows, The Devil Makes Three is not bluegrass at all.
"Most of the time when people see the stand up bass, they immediately think bluegrass. But that's not what we do," Bernhard says.
To explain the Devil Makes Three conundrum, let's propose a hypothetical scenario. You're at a wedding reception where you know hardly anyone, so you spend a considerable amount of time strolling through the buffet line where you see what appears to be a platter of burritos. The tortillas are rolled with the ends tucked in, adhering to proper burrito folding prototype and they're warm to the touch, just how you like your burritos. So you, as a casual burrito enthusiast, excitedly bite into the tortilla, only to find that this isn't a burrito at all, but rather some sort of spinach, turkey and cream cheese wrap. You're disappointed because you wanted a burrito, but you eat it, not wanting to be seen spitting fake burrito into the garbage can. But as you eat, you realize that you like spinach, turkey and cream cheese wraps and proceed to devour the remainder of the platter in a display of unbridled gluttony.