Typhoon, Lady Lamb the Beekeeper

Manic Productions Presents:

Typhoon

Lady Lamb the Beekeeper

Wild Ones

Tue, March 25, 2014

Doors: 7:00 pm / Show: 8:00 pm

The Ballroom at The Outer Space

Hamden, CT

$13.00 - $15.00

Tickets Available at the Door

This event is 21 and over

Typhoon
Typhoon
Dear Reader,

I don't remember much, but I remember this one thing with clarity.

I was in the backyard looking up at my father; he was bent over raking leaves, explaining to me over his shoulder what it meant to be a good man–to keep your word and do the work you set out to do. I was a child then and the words were a mystery, having little conception of what kind of man I would be, what sort of work I would do or how I would set about doing it. A few years later, as all my friends were entering adolescence, I got sick. Mine was puberty with a vengeance.

In my last letter I made mention of my illness. Since then I have been asked about it often and feel I should elaborate on its significance. The illness itself offers a tempting narrative hook, but while it is romantic to dwell on the individual suffering, what matters is the universal implication: Once on the other side one finds that there are no sides, that there exists no great partition between sickness and health, only various stages of dying and various ways of surviving that death.

This discovery had on me the effect of leveling all logical binaries to be replaced by ambivalence–not only could I not tell the difference between sickness and heath, but had further difficulty telling friends from enemies, progress from regress, love from resentment, sometimes even women from men. I realized that if I were to accomplish anything it would be to recover some kind of meaning in what my friend Zach Schomburg called the Wild Meaninglessness. You can consider it one very bewildered man's attempt to explain the universe, to himself, in the language of bewilderment.

I had a lot of help. Without my friends in typhoon this music would have never reached your ears. It is thanks to them that these songs are songs and not just a bunch of quasi-apocalyptic ramblings. We recorded them on a farm in Happy Valley, OR while we lived there for a short, utopian six weeks in the spring and summer of 2012. The record is a collection of seminal life moments, in more or less chronological order, glimpsed backwards in the pale light of certain death, brought to life by a remarkable group of people who hold as I do that the work is somehow important.

When we started working on White Lighter, I had reason to believe that it would be the last thing I ever did.

It is now six months since we finished. I'm still here and there's still work to be done.

k.r.m. 6.21.2013
Lady Lamb the Beekeeper
Lady Lamb the Beekeeper
To many, Lady Lamb is an enigma. Her songs are at once intimate and unbridled– both deeply personal and existentially contemplative. Aly Spaltro is a fearless performer who can command a pitch black stage with nothing more than her voice. Yet, when the band bursts in and the lights come up, what began as a demonstration of restraint shifts seamlessly into an emphatic snarl. On her newest work, After, Spaltro explores dualities further – giving equal attention to both the internal and external, the before and after. Her most palpable fears and memories are on display here, with a familiar vulnerability even more direct than her last effort. After boasts driving rhythms, bold melodies, candid lyricism, and a growling sonic stamp that is all her own.

Spaltro’s formative years were full of change – moving houses, cities, and countries every three years until she landed in her family’s home state of Maine. It was here that Spaltro found her voice among thousands of films at Bart & Greg’s DVD Explosion, an independent rental store in the small coastal town of Brunswick. During the day Spaltro would rent movies to the locals. At night she would lock up, pull out her 8-track recorder, and create songs completely uninhibited by musical conventions, learning to play and sing as she hit record. These creations brought forth nearly one hundred recordings, twelve of which were carefully curated and fully realized on her 2013 full-length studio debut Ripely Pine (released on Ba Da Bing! Records). Ripely Pine garnered praise for its lyrical intricacies, emotive vocals, and often unpredictable musicality, introducing Spaltro as a formidable new artist.

In between tours, Spaltro returned home, focusing with laser-like intent on writing, arranging, and demoing the songs on After. These new works – which found Spaltro co-producing with her Ripely Pine partner Nadim Issa at his Brooklyn studio, Let ‘Em In – are sonically vibrant, with an assertive use of grit and brightness. Thematically, they provide direct insight into Spaltro’s rumination on mortality, family, friendships, and leaving home.

There are many songs on After that explore themes of a much larger scale. In “Heretic” Spaltro sings of a childhood UFO sighting in Arizona. In “Batter” she dies in a plane crash, while in “Spat Out Spit” she questions whether she was even born at all. Alternatively, in “Billions of Eyes” Spaltro can “only see into her suitcase,” her mind simultaneously present and wandering as she “gnaws [her] way back home.” The tender and sparse “Ten” delves into her mother’s childhood diary, giving the listener a clear view throughout into some of Spaltro’s warmest memories of her loved ones. Ripely Pine was marked by an undeniable passion and confidence, but where it sometimes lacked in personal narrative and directness is where After shines. The last line on After encompasses the self-assurance of the work as a whole, stating “I know where I come from.” This theme is a constant throughout After, as Spaltro seeks to allow the listener to move in closer than ever before, to reflect on the past with grace, and envision the future with fervor. Spaltro invites us to contemplate the dualities that make us human, encouraging the celebration of both fear and love: internally and externally, before and after.
Wild Ones
Wild Ones
In late 2012, Wild Ones was on the verge of collapse. Guitarist Clayton Knapp had blown out an eardrum, the band's original drummer left the group and his replacement, Seve Sheldon, was in the hospital with a punctured lung, practicing songs on a drum pad with a tube sticking out of his chest. The band's members had funneled all of their money into a debut record, Keep It Safe, that had taken a year to write and nine months to record and mix. Fans and followers began to wonder if that record would ever see the light of day. It was make-or-break time. Wild Ones made. Instead of folding in the face of financial drama, injuries and personnel changes, Wild Ones took a deep breath and adjusted to its new surroundings. This band is used to adjusting. Since its formation in 2010, Wild Ones has insisted on operating as a DIY collective. The band recorded and mixed its debut as a group (with help from engineer David Pollock). Sometimes considering each members' opinion meant endless revisits and tweaks to the album's tracks. The process was time-consuming, but it was also worth it. "That was a reaction to the bands we had been in before," says lead vocalist Danielle Sullivan. "This band was born out of our desire to have a democratic, all-inclusive music-making process." Going it alone—even the artwork on Keep It Safe was created by Wild Ones keyboardist Thomas Himes—comes with its fair share of challenges. Most of Wild Ones' debut was recorded in a two-story East Portland warehouse rehearsal space, where the band was surrounded on all sides by rock acts like Quasi and the Thermals. Wild Ones would get to their practice space around 8 am to record, often grabbing quick takes between thunderous drum solos from down the hall. "Somewhere on the record, if you listen close enough, you can probably hear the metal band next door," Himes says. "When we went in that room in March, it was raining," says Knapp. "When we finished recording in October, it was raining." Keep It Safe, the album that finally emerged after well over a year of gestation, is bigger than the sum of its meticulously gathered parts. Even now, the band's sound continues to evolve. Wild Ones' members come from vastly disparate musical backgrounds—guitarist Nick Vicario was a Portland punk icon long before he turned 18; bassist Max Stein is a classical composer—and all of their experiences inform pop music that is influenced by everything from german techno to American R&B. These are sounds that don't usually come packaged together, but in the able hands of Wild Ones, they seem like a perfectly natural fit.
Venue Information:
The Ballroom at The Outer Space
295 Treadwell Street
Building G
Hamden, CT, 06514