Micah Blue Smaldone
Micah Blue Smaldone
Micah Blue Smaldone has a story that in many ways mirrors my own. Growing up in the pleasant (but less-than-stimulating) atmosphere of a quiet New England town, Smaldone found his salvation in skateboarding and punk rock.... Sounds familiar!
Kennebunk, Maine, lit some kind of fire under Smaldone, and the road ever since has been long and winding, indeed. He went from being a founding member of the snappy and provocative punk group the Pinkerton Thugs, to producing a series of beguiling, mostly acoustic solo records that almost exist out of time: His phrases, both vocal and musical, are consistently poetic and graceful.
“The beauty of music-making is that there is always somewhere new to go, but it’s also important to remember that we all came from somewhere.”
After 20 years of continuous touring, Smaldone credits his approach to neither his hometown nor his current digs, where he builds excellent amplifiers under the moniker Arkham Sound in South Portland, Maine. Rather, he says, “The strongest memories are the ones where I felt that I was part of a moment that called upon everyone present. A performer is only part of the equation. Scenes, movements, even just circles of friends who are all feeling something together at a certain time, place, era, stage of life—for me that’s what gives urgency to a musical experience. I am so lucky to have felt that so many times already in my life.”
Micah has reconnected with his roots in a big way in the last couple years, forming the rock trio Wake in Fright and releasing a new eponymous album that offers a set of confident, Clash-inspired tunes that might just get you back in the pit!
Charlie Rauh
Photo by Andrew Golledge
Charlie Rauh didn’t just take the road less traveled; he cut his own very unique path. Growing up in the South, first in Huntsville, Alabama, and then Herndon, Virginia, Rauh began forming his musical personality in the gathering clouds.
“I remember the scent in the air before the intense storms we would get, and the shade of green the sky turned before a tornado. I didn’t play an instrument at this time in my life, but the atmospheric elements of the environment had a massive emotional impact on me.” Nature’s push and pull are all over Rauh’s playing, which centers around a measured, intimate, fingerpicked style that is truly his own. I still have the business card that he gave me when we first met, and the tagline still puts a smile on my face: “Charlie Rauh—Won’t Play Loud. Can’t Play Fast.”
Rauh is now an in-demand session player in his current home of New York City, and recently participated in a first-of-its-kind residency at the Louisiana State University School of Veterinary Medicine. “I was brought in based on my solo guitar work, with the directive of translating the intention of interspecies wellness through my music. The experience was completely life-changing for me, and the music I composed for solo acoustic guitar and 6-piece choir would become my album, Theoria. In addition to performing the music live, I have been presenting guest lectures on the process as well as publishing written pieces and lessons on the process I used to create it. The way I think about music has been deeply impacted by my time spent with the animals and doctors I worked with.”Rosali
Photo by Jamie Davis
I first became aware of Rosali when she released her excellent second album Trouble Anyway in 2018. This year, her ascension continues with Bite Down, her Merge Records debut. The album is full of masterful melodies, rollicking alt-country backing, and no small amount of artsy, homespun guitar goodness. Originally hailing from Michigan, Rosali considers Philadelphia to be her hometown: “I spent 12 years there—my formative adult years. The scene was cross-genre, tough—in a good way—and psychedelic. So many intelligent players, intricate and also bone-headed. I think there was a beautiful mix of approaches and appreciation for one another, at least in the early days. I think of Jack Rose and Meg Baird, Mary Lattimore, Weyes Blood. I went to a lot of noise and DIY shows in West Philly. Not to mention the energy of the city itself. Just rough and raw and very real. It toughened up this midwestern girl in an invaluable way. I owe a lot to that place.”
James Elkington and Nathan Salsburg
Photo by Joan Shelley
Of all the musicians I spoke to for this column, James Elkington and Nathan Salsburg have probably logged the most miles. Elkington grew up in the English village of Chorleywood, about an hour outside of London, while Salsburg spent his youth in Louisville, Kentucky. To date, the pair have produced three outstanding records of guitar duets (their latest, All Gist, is out now), and have also collaborated on several albums for Joan Shelley, a top-tier singer-songwriter who happens to be married to Salsburg.
Despite musical excursions in and out of London from the age of 16, Elkington’s imagination was truly captured by the Chicago scene of the early 2000s, with bands like Gastr del Sol and Tortoise being his guiding lights.
“I had got it into my head that Chicago was a musical wonderland where everyone played on each other’s records and labels really supported each other, and when I came here that turned out to be sort of true.” Indie music in Chicago is historically known for being some shade of “post”—post rock, post hardcore, etc.—but Elkington’s expansive playing takes in the past, present, and future. He can effortlessly conjure contrapuntal folk baroque, fuzzy, abstract expressionism, and pretty much everything in between! Elkington carries the musical influences of his place of origin, as well as those from his current home, with equal aplomb.
The connection that Elkington found with Nathan Salsburg is of a rare and wonderful kind. Like Elkington, Salsburg is something of a musical polymath. He came up in the vibrant punk and post-rock scene of ’80s and ’90s Louisville, where bands like Slint, Rodan, and Squirrel Bait were redefining rock for a new generation. All the while, Salsburg was absorbing the Bob Dylan, Mississippi John Hurt, and Dave Van Ronk records played by his parents. After stints in a handful of local bands and a few years in New York City, Salsburg returned to Louisville with “a desire to make music with focus, rigor, thoughtfulness, and peace of mind.” He developed a highly melodic and animated fingerpicking style that has put him at the top of his class in the world of guitar soli.
But if one guitar is great, can’t two be greater? Enter Elkington, and a wonderful partnership was born. Not since John Renbourn and Stefan Grossman have two players cooked up such a heady brew of English and American folk-guitar concepts, and the transcribers of the future will surely be scratching their heads trying to untangle Elkington and Salsburg’s playful, harmonically dense lines.
Whether we realize it or not, the places we are from, the places where we are, and the places that we’re going play a huge role in the music we make. We can even look at our individual journeys like we might look at the structure of a song. Is your hometown the intro, the overture, or is it actually the theme that runs through the whole piece? Is your song carefully composed, or are there a few extended improvised sections? How different will the ending be from the beginning? To paraphrase author Jon Kabat-Zinn, “Wherever we go, there we are.”
The faces of Failure: Kellii Scott, Greg Edwards, Ken Andrews.
But getting here wasn’t smooth sailing. The blissful ignorance that Andrews and Edwards say brought Failure success in the ’90s is also what nearly destroyed them. “So much of what I did on guitar on that first album, I had no idea what I was doing,” says Andrews. “That brought something different to it.” Edwards agrees, adding, “We discovered as it went.”
While that approach opened the doors to creativity, it also brought frustration. “We knew when we were making Comfort that it wasn’t turning out the way we hoped,” Andrews relates. “Even on Magnified, there was this feeling of, ‘Dude, did we nail that? I’m not really sure.’ Case in point, the label actually wanted to release the demos for Magnified, as opposed to what we turned in as the finished thing. It was a struggle finding what our sound was until we took the reins for Fantastic Planet.”
Failure - Headstand - Music Video
Even on that self-produced album, which Edwards describes as “really spread out” and eclectic, the band was searching. He explains, “When I demoed the idea for‘Blank’ or ‘The Nurse Who Loved Me,’ I remember thinking, ‘These can’t be Failure songs.’ But they became staple Failure songs!”
Things soon came undone, and in 1997, at the height of their career,Failure broke up. Instead of headlining shows with their crushing space riffs, the guys moved on to other bands and projects, which for Andrews included some A-list pop studio credits with Nine Inch Nails, Paramore, Andrew W.K., and Tenacious D. Though they were staying busy, the fans were left without until 2013, when Andrews, Edwards, and Scott announced their reunion.
Far from a ’90s nostalgia trip, Andrews says the band wanted their return to be more intentional: “When we rebooted, and once we realized that the Failure sound is unique to these brains, it became more of a consideration of, ‘If we’re going to make music together, what kind of music is it going to be?’” Their subsequent albums The Heart Is a Monster and In the Future Your Body Will Be the Furthest Thing from Your Mind proved as vital, creative, and driven as ever.
"Even if we hadn't done what we did in the '90s, I still feel like what we're doing now is cool." —Ken Andrews
Now, on Wild Type Droid, Failure sound like a robust and streamlined machine with a renewed focus, incorporating new tones alongside their signature mammoth riffs, cosmic themes, and dissonant harmonies. That’s due at least in part to a fresh and in-the-moment recording approach. “In the Future was written by forcing the songs into being,” says Edwards. “With this new process, we committed to going into a room together for a month and recording—four or five days a week, and five, six hours a day—everything we played. It was very organic.”
Hours upon hours of jamming and creatively searching for new ideas did take a toll. Andrews says that process informed the sound of the album, calling it “a conscious decision to enter this mode of only improvising and not putting on the songwriter hat. That was a unique decision that I think paid off because it gave us this huge well of material. You can’t recreate that in a songwriting workshop studio thing. It’s that intangible randomness that happens when you have three brains working at the same time.”
TIDBIT: The songs on Wild Type Droid were written in long, jam-style sessions—a first for the band. That approach, along with the addition of a baritone guitar and Bass VI, encouraged new ideas and sounds.
And while it lead to exhaustion in the studio, Edwards sees that as an asset and likens it to “Kubrick’s theory of doing way too many takes. You exhaust the actor, and after you go through all the terrible takes, all of a sudden, you transcended into another state of consciousness, and interesting stuff starts happening.”
With both guitarists playing equal shares of guitar and bass, how do the songs begin? It’s as simple as one of them picking up an instrument. “I would see an instrument that I hadn’t played yet, grab it, then start making noise,” said Edwards. “Kellii would start playing a beat, and then all of a sudden, we’d be into something.”
With that in mind, Andrews introduced two new pieces of gear, hoping they would be inspiring. He was right, and Edwards quickly took to one of them: a Danelectro baritone. “This was my first experience playing baritone,” he says. “And because it’s what I always do, a lot of my baritone parts are way up on the neck. It had a different quality than anything I’d heard from a guitar. ‘Long Division’ is a good example.”
Failure's Gear
Ken Andrews, seen here with a Les Paul, has accumulated top-level studio credits through the years, working with artists such as Nine Inch Nails and Tenacious D.
Photo by Debi Del Grande
Guitars
- Danelectro baritone
- Squier Bass VI
- 1976 Gibson Les Paul
- Gibson Explorer
- Fender Jazzmaster
- Vintage Gibson LG-1
Amps & Effects
- Fractal Audio Axe-Fx III
Strings & Picks
- Ernie Ball Power Slinky Bass (.040–.-95)
- Ernie Ball Baritone Slinky (.013–.072)
- Ernie Ball Burly Slinky (.008—.038)
- Dunlop Tortex .60 mm, .73 mm, .88 mm
Andrews’ other new addition was a Squier Bass VI. Failure has always placed bass front-and-center, driving their music with grinding tones and low-octave chords, so the Bass VI was an easy fit. “We’ve been playing chords on 4-string bass for a very long time,” says Andrews, “but I found that when I was playing the Bass VI it’s a different quality. You can hear it on ‘Submarines’ and ‘Long Division.’”
Although there are appearances by a Jazzmaster, a new Gibson Explorer, and Andrews’ 1976 Les Paul, the Danelectro and the Bass VI defined the album. Failure’s other secret weapon was their trusty Fractal Audio Axe-Fx IIIs. “We were using presets and scenes from previous songs, from previous albums, even ’90s songs. And I’ve been using the Fractal since 2014, so I’m quite familiar with the unit,” says Andrews. “If I had recorded a DI track during writing, I could completely reconstruct the sound, hearing it in context with the final vocals at the end. There were several songs where, literally, I was playing back DI bass and DI guitar while essentially mixing them on the Fractal.”
The refined sounds of Wild Type Droid’s woven tapestry of guitar and bass are a reminder that the Failure guitarists also geek out on production techniques. Reminiscing about the band’s early years, Andrews says, “I remember having long discussions [with Edwards] about production, more than individual riffs and parts. We were very aware of how impactful production can be on establishing an emotional mood that you get from listening to music. It became an obsession, in a way.”
“So much of what I did on guitar on that first album, I had no idea what I was doing. That brought something different to it.”—Ken Andrews
That obsession pays off throughout Wild Type Droid, helping the album sound meticulously crafted while never losing Failure’s raw, straightforward character. Songs like “Headstand” and “Bad Translation” take the best of Fantastic Planet’s power, dissonance, and pop sensibilities, and amplify them. Andrews and Edwards chalk that up to their creative connection, strengthened by decades of making music together.
“Everything was very much about listening to the other person and saying, ‘What can I play that’s not stepping on that?’” says Edwards. “That’s a product of an evolving sensibility within the band members over many years,” Andrews continues. “We’re looking now at the challenge of complementing things, as opposed to doubling and strengthening things.”
Failure’s albums sound better than ever, they still have a loyal fan base, and their new release is a musical success, but the 6-string duo are quick to mention how hard survival has been in the music industry. “In the ’90s, being signed was the biggest factor in what we were doing at any given time,” says Andrews. “And if you weren’t signed in the ’90s, you weren’t taken seriously,” chimes in Edwards.
In the studio working on Wild Type Droid, Greg Edwards lays down a track with a vintage Gibson LG-1.
Photo by Priscilla Scott
But Andrews points out that being on labels had its share of problems. “We were basically on their schedule,” he says. “We couldn’t release the record if they didn’t want to do it, we couldn’t tour, we couldn’t do anything. It was all about promoting our band within our own label to get them to pay attention and do stuff for us.”
Today, that business model is dead, and most record labels have all but given up on album sales as a major revenue stream. “It’s crazy when you think about how much it changed from 2005 to 2012, and then from 2012-ish to now,” says Edwards.
“It was a whole different thing,” agrees Andrews. “I remember when record companies started sniffing around our shows. I went to the bookstore and got Donald Passman’s book about the business of music [All You Need To Know About the Music Business]. In that book, the first thing he says is, ‘Do not try to force yourself into the public eye or into the music business. You have to be invited in,’ which sounds kind of crazy in 2022. What’s even left to invite you into?”
“It’s like Kubrick’s theory of doing way too many takes. You exhaust the actor and after you go through all the terrible takes all of a sudden you transcended into another state of consciousness, and interesting stuff starts happening.”—Greg Edwards
Today’s uneasy music industry is all about streaming services, and Spotify sits comfortably at the top. But they’ve seen a steady trickle of artists challenging their platform or, as Neil Young did very publicly, abandoning the service altogether. Recently, Failure announced their decision to do the same. Though the day’s politics played a role, the band said it was inevitable and a long time coming. And since most artists don’t make much from Spotify streams anyway, leaving the platform wasn’t a major financial setback.
“Spotify, in some sense, is the streaming arm of whatever you want to call the major-label world,” says Andrews. “But it’s completely flipped on its head. It’s all about aggregating the most content possible and paying the lowest possible for individual streams. If you really game it out, how does Spotify exist past another 10 years? Eventually, musicians won’t want to use a service that doesn’t give anything back to them. That’s what happened to us.”
Andrews says Failure is in a better place now than during their first go-round. “I’m enjoying the process way more than I did in the ’90s. Even if we hadn’t done what we did in the ’90s, I still feel like what we’re doing now is cool. Why would you stop doing something when you feel like you’re getting more appreciation for it? I feel like we’re this independent, little business that happens to be a band. And we’re surviving.”
Failure - Another Space Song (Live on KEXP)
Greg Edwards’ clear, chime-y arpeggios float over the mesmeric groove created by Ken Andrews’ growling bass line and Kellii Scott’s repetitive kit work in this 2015 version of “Another Space Song” from Fantastic Planet.
Shiner sprouted from the fertile, black-dirt underground rock scene of the Midwest. Cofounded by guitarist/vocalist Allen Epley in 1992, the band toured with contemporaries Sunny Day Real Estate, Chore, Jawbox, Season to Risk, the Jesus Lizard, and Girls Against Boys, recorded with Shellac’s Steve Albini, and released four albums between 1996 and 2001. Injections of new blood for 1997’s Lula Divina (bassist Paul Malinowski) and 2000’s Starless (Josh Newton on keyboards/guitars and Jason Gerken on drums) helped carve fresh ground and broaden their sound.
Shiner’s sweet spot lives among the smoldering soundscapes that brood, blossom, and bolster their cannonball core. The Egg, from 2001, was a crowning achievement—the early career apex of the band’s evolution from noisy dissonance and powder-keg rock to mosaic, prog-like orchestrations that were equally brutal and beautiful. And after nearly two years of touring behind The Egg, the quartet split up in 2003.
Over the next 15 years, Shiner reunited for special one-off appearances and very short tours. And with the help of the internet and streaming services, their low-key, dormant profile was elevated. Finally, in 2020, Shiner came back to the table with Schadenfreude–a shockingly logical evolution from and continuation of The Egg’s sonic flavor. The album has the lyrical earworms, head-nodding rhythms, gut-punch oomph, and palette-cleansing space travel you’d expect from a band that said goodbye with the jewel “The Simple Truth.”
Ahead of Shiner’s show at Nashville’s DIY arts collective, Drkmttr, PG hopped onstage to dissect the current setups of Epley and Malinowski. Epley details how a lunch-break pawnshop visit landed a remarkable Hohner T for under $100. Malinowski reveals the unique tuning (and demonstrates the monkey-grip it requires to play) that allows his setup to charge like a rhino. And both walk us through their practical-but-powerful pedalboards.
(Unfortunately, renowned gearhead, resident of Pudgemont County, and a regular at the Chug Suckle, Josh Newton, was not on this run as he was tech’ing for Kings of Leon. Spotlights’ Mario Quintero played the role of Newton for this batch of shows, and we featured his setup—along with wife/Spotlights bassist Sarah Quintero’s rig—back in 2021.)
Brought to you by D’Addario Nexxus 360 Rechargeable Tuner.
A “Trashy Toy Tele” Becomes the One
If you’ve seen Shiner and Allen Epley, you’ve seen this T-style that’s been to hell and back. Epley’s live staple is a Hohner HG-428N—a Japan-made copy of a Fender Telecaster Deluxe. While Epley has owned the instrument for 30-plus years, he contends that its abuse was dished out prior to scoring this prize at Sol’s Pawn in Kansas City, Kansas. Shiner bassist and extreme bottom feeder Paul Malinowski did the wheeling and dealing and helped Epley land it for under $100. It’s been overhauled several times, to keep it running strong, but Epley feels this one provides a live tone that’s unmatched by anything he owns and adds to Shiner’s sting. He goes with Dunlop Performance+ strings (.011–.050) and is locked into D-standard tuning.
Blacktop Backup
If anything haywire happens to the Hohner, Epley has this Fender Blacktop Jazzmaster HS that was picked from Chris Metcalf, who plays drums in Allen’s other band, the Life and Times. It’s been upgraded with a Staytrem bridge by fellow Shiner bandmate and tech extraordinaire Josh Newton.
Mind the Gap
The solid, stratified sound of Shiner starts with Epley’s stereo setup. The first part of the potent platform is his 1997 Vox AC30 Top Boost reissue that he bought brand new. He loves how it sits in the mix and “fills the gaps in the middle” like double-meat in a club sandwich.
Tommy's Hiwatt?
Surrounding and supplementing the Vox’s mid-focused heft is the above 1971 Hiwatt Custom 100 that chimes in with glassy highs and plenty of low-end heft. He plucked this gem from fellow KC rocker Duane Trower of Season to Risk for $500 cash and a lesser amp. (Epley clearly won that trade.) During the Rundown, he semi-confidently asserts that the head was used for the touring production of the Who’s rock opera Tommy. He uses it with guitar and bass, and it’s been souped-up by turning the normal volume control into a throttle for the pre-gain, giving the amp more grind and growl. The Custom 100 hits a 2x12 cab (procured by Josh Newton) that has a pair of 35-watt speakers.
Allen’s Arsenal
The first two parts of Epley’s pedalboard start on the floor. The TC Helicon Harmony Singer integrates with his guitar—reading whether the chord he’s playing is major or minor—and then accompanies his vocals with a predetermined harmony either above or below his singing key. Next in line on the floor is the Ernie Ball 6166 Mono Volume Pedal. After that is a double dose of dirt compliments of MXR: a Super Badass Distortion and Micro Amp+. Following those is an Electro-Harmonix Micro POG that Epley calls a “kaleidoscope of sound.” A MXR M300 Reverb provides plenty of canyon far and wide, while the Line 6 DL4 spreads Epley’s tone to both amps for stereo delay. A Boss TU-2 Chromatic Tuner keeps his guitars in check and a MXR ISO-Brick M238 powers the pedals.
Paul’s Project P
This P bass started its life as a ’90s MIM Squier model. The only thing stock on the entire instrument is the body. It has a new pickguard, enhanced electronics, a custom-wound pickup from Fountain City Guitarworks (Kansas City), a NOS Kramer Schaller bridge from the ’80s, and a custom neck finished and fine-tuned by KC producer/luthier Justin Mantooth. The secret sauce to Paul Malinowski’s setup and rhino-charging tone has nothing to do with gear, but rather the unison tuning (C-G-C-C) that he employs for most of Shiner’s songs. He hammers away on Dunlop strings (.050–.110) with Dunlop Tortex .73 mm picks (yellow).
A Blast From the Past
Prior to bringing the project P into the mix, Paul would rely on this 1983 Fender Elite Precision Bass II. As with a lot of instruments made in the ’80s, there was some serious innovation on deck. Fender’s high-end attempt at an active bass features noise-cancelling, split-coil passive pickups (Paul mentions the bridge pickup is thin sounding and never stood a chance in Shiner), an active preamp that boosts output and improves control operation, and a Bi-Flex truss rod (allowing adjustments in both directions). This one often rides in D-standard tuning (D-G-C-F). Paul feels this instrument has “a little more throat to it” than the Squier P. And a big reason this Elite looks anything but is because Paul shredded away its finish when he played with flexible copper picks for years.
Pulverizing With Peavey
During Shiner’s initial run, Malinowski pumped his Ps through a Mesa/Boogie 400+ and 2x15 cab. After the band stopped touring, he sold the rig to a friend. On the lookout for a new setup, he found luck with this Peavey Classic 400 that he scooped for $50 from the Musician’s Friend scratch-and-dent warehouse in Kansas City. The fault was resolved with a fresh fuse cap. The 400-watt bruiser runs off 14 tubes (eight 6550s, five 12AX7s, and one 12AT7). Malinowski lives in the crunch channel.
Ranger Rock Ready for Duty
This custom-made Ranger 2x15 was built by fellow Kansas City dweller Scott Reed. The design removed the industrial vibes of the ported Mesa Diesel cab he previously used for an heirloom furniture look. It does have a pair of EV15L drivers in it, too.
Malinowski’s Mass Distortion
The signal from the P goes into the Ernie Ball VP Jr that feeds the Boss TU-2 Chromatic Tuner. The first two tone ticklers are both always on. The Boss GEB-7 Bass Equalizer simply slides out the 500k frequency and the Maxon OD808 Overdrive reissue aggressively agitates the Classic 400. When Pete needs to restrain his buffalo bass tone, he pulls back the volume or changes his playing dynamics. The MXR EVH Phase 90 gets used along with an EBow. The DigiTech Bass Whammy gets used with the EBow and phaser, but is also engaged (in the low-octave setting) when he’s playing riffs on just the unison high strings to thicken everything up. The Boss MT-2 Metal Zone gets center stage for the Starless song “Giant’s Chair” or anytime he wants to ride the feedback bull. The MXR Tremolo has its moment during the intro of “Giant’s Chair” (joining the MT-2 to create a buzzsaw super chop). And the TC Electronic Flashback dazzles and delays in spacy sections.