SQUEEZING OUT SPARKS: A SOUTHERN POET SINGS FOR HER NEW YORK CITY SUPPER

 

This feature appeared on Huffington Post New York, October 2014 

“See her dark tan…those double-d implants…the sharp tip of her high-heels…it’s a drill bit! Her poppa put Penthouse parameters around what’s pretty…early and often. Splay legged women, laid back laughing…lipstick thick enough to paint the town…”Minton Sparks “Gold Digger”

She refers to herself as a “speaker –songwriter.” Where to begin with the genre defying Minton Sparks: poet, storyteller, singer, comedienne, educator, writer, activist, essayist, philosopher, painter, performance artist? If you are new to her artistry as I am, then I highly recommend Minton’s latest album, suitably entitled Gold Digger, which is out now, coupled with any one of the numerous performance vignettes which are in circulation on the video platform of your choice, or conveniently archived on www.mintonsparks.com.

Akin to such great American muso-wordsmiths as Tom Waits, Mos Def, Gil Scott-Heron, and Henry Rollins to cite a simpatico few, Ms. Sparks holds a curved mirror to society. “I love comparison to those artists…especially Tom Waits and Mos Def. Many wonderful songs need no words, and many wonderful poems are musical enough in and of themselves. I try to goose both genres by spending lots of time on each word, and then hoping for the music to deepen the emotion of the piece.”

Sparks’ looking-glass is decidedly Southern in a manner which is oft stereo-typed – yet emerges as universal.  Ms. Sparks’ distinctive appearance, delivery and overall aura are that of a semi-poor white middle-aged small-town Dixie chick. She is usually adorned in a budget floral dress, tatty high-heels, and an elegantly weathered purse dangling from the crook of her elbow. But don’t let that fool you.

The southern fried character of Minton Sparks minces no words as her drawling, deceptively intricate libretto runs the gamut of awkward family secrets, romantic yearnings, un-neighborly gossip, spiteful ruminations on lovers and other strangers, abject jealousy, unrequited and hitherto undisclosed passion, stinging social commentary, and topics that many of the so-called The Real Housewives dare not knowingly address with such depth and clarity.

Nevertheless, the decidedly Northeast hipsters in the uber-hipster East Village venue wherein I first witnessed Minton saw themselves in her outrageously understated over-the-top character portraits as evidenced by their nervous, albeit jaw- dropping laughter.  Big Apple dwellers are notorious for their superiority complex: but not so in the presence of Minton who speaks truth to power and vice versa.  Sparks could be your alcoholic aunt from Brooklyn; your boorish mother-in-law from the Upper East Side; your closeted sister who lives on the North Shore of Long Island with her rich, unsuspecting dentist husband; your nymphomaniac ex-girlfriend who moved back to Staten Island; your spinster co-worker from Astoria for whom you fetishlike fantasize over… all rendered in an infectious, irritable, and irresistible twang.

“I’m not exactly sure how I use my Southern accent…how does one use a mother tongue? It’s unconsciously bent by the land. One thing I am aware of however is how rich the language is in this part of the country in the face of an ‘ever vanilla-ing” population. For example, I remember my grandmother saying ‘if that’s not true I’ll walk into the Mississippi ‘til my hat floats! One of the reasons I love good literature is that a well told story, say, set in South Africa, or Ireland reaches through the page and moves me from afar. I can hear where the characters live in the harmonies between the words… I think people who enjoy being challenged by a story wherever they live, will respond to this performance.”

Though her new album is a full-on band project, Minton’s musical foil in concert was the solo guitar of John “JJ” Jackson, who has also collaborated with Bob Dylan (1991-97), Shelby Lynne, and Lucinda Williams among others. Jackson has been at Sparks’ side for over eight years and their interplay, which is given to the moment, is nothing short of astounding. Jackson punctuates Sparks’ every move – from her chicken strut to her sultry saunter towards her audience, to the occasional stagger – with motifs that quote jazz, blues, folk, country, rhythm and blues, and every permutation thereof.

When Minton is not officially on public display, she hosts writing and performance workshops (she is the founder of the Nashville Writing and Performance Institute and “Create Your Story” at universities and professional organizations countrywide), she creates art-poem cards and prints, and authors books – Desperate Ransom: Setting Her Family Free (2007) and White Lightening (2008), among other endeavors. She has distinguished herself at the esteemed Jonesborough National Storytelling Festival and the American Songbook Series at Lincoln Center. Sparks’ recorded canon, which spans five albums, is also quite impressive and includes contributions from Waylon Jennings, Keb Mo, and Chris Thile among others.

“I see people in tears all the time…last night in Augusta a woman came up to me and said ‘did we grow up together? You have no idea how much this show meant to me and my husband…I tried to tell him about my family life, but this told him more than I’ve been able to…”

Perhaps Broadway will beckon for this Southern bellwether?

EDWARD ROGERS: ROCK ‘N ROLL NEVER FORGETS IN NEW YORK CITY

 

This feature appeared on Huffington Post New York, July 2014

"As this album was coming together it became apparent to me that it had a 1970s theme to it... when I learned that Kevin Ayers passed away I got a hold of some of the last words he'd written which were 'you don't shine if you don't burn...' After that, the entire process of making KAYE fell into place. Like a puzzle..."

To coin an angular phrase worthy of the above referenced legend, Edward Rogers is New York City rock 'n' roll's "Ayers apparent."

For many of us, to traverse the streets of New York City in the present tense, especially in singer -- songwriter Edward Rogers' lower Manhattan Astor Place neighborhood, is to dance among the ghosts of artists priced out of the environs, the soulless steel and glass structures wherein romantic tenements rued; the rock clubs, mom and pop establishments and record shops replaced by telecommunications outlets and pricey boutiques. To be a rock 'n' roll practitioner in this strange place is to be an iconoclast and a dreamer -- like Edward Rogers, and his mentor, Kevin Ayers.

For those of you, and there are understandably many, who are unaware of the life and work of Kevin Ayers, he was among the most significant British pop experimental recording artists who emerged from rock's hallowed Canterbury Scene which flourished in the late 1960s-70s. An eccentric, prolific enigma, Mr. Ayers was a founding member of Soft Machine, and collaborator with a who's who list of icons you may have heard of: Brian Eno, John Cale, Phil Manzanera, and Mike Oldfield -- among scores of others whom I'm sure my readers will admonish me for not citing. Ayers' imprint on indie and mainstream rock artists of the past twenty years is indelible -- yet fame was not in the cards for Kevin - not that I think he cared much.

Edward Rogers was born in Birmingham, England. His parents pulled up stakes, and Edward, and migrated to the United States just as the British rock world was undergoing a historic transformation with Jeff Beck, The Who, Cream, PP Arnold, The Nice, Manfred Mann -- all of whom Edward saw on brief summer trips back to his homeland. "It was the worse time ever" recalls Rogers "everything was happening in the UK! And I was in Rhode Island, of all bloody places." However there were perks to being a Brummie in America. "I didn't realize that having slightly longer hair would have such a strong impression -- especially on the ladies! They constantly inquired if I knew John, or George, or Ringo, or Paul. It brought me out of a shell, though the bad news was that I became a threat to the jocks and the straight-laced establishment."

Luckily for Edward his family eventually moved a bit south to New York City at the dawn of the punk revolution. When a rocker approached him and declared "you're going to be a drummer in my band" his life changed. Rogers gladly tossed aside his well-paying law firm job "which financed my velvets and satins, and then some. From then on I copied everything Clem Burke (Blondie) did!" Behind the kit with such bands as the Overnights and Route 66, Edward revels in telling war stories of early, raucous gigs with the Smithereens, beating out the Stray Cats at a Long Island Battle of the Bands contest, and his shock at gazing out into the audience of the legendary Kenny's Castaways on Bleeker Street (which is now a sports bar) one bleary evening only to realize that Mick Jagger and Al Pacino were fixated on him.

Though an accident essentially ended his career as a drummer, Edward was reborn as a singer -- which is his natural habitat -- Rogers belongs under the spotlight, not behind it. As was his fate, Edward met the right people at the right time while he "never worked and studied so hard in my life" to become a vocalist. He served a musical conductor for a bona fide (and thankfully still functioning) New York City rock institution -- The Losers Lounge -- founded by Joe McGinty (Psychedelic Furs, Kevin Ayers, Ryan Adams, Martha Wainwright, among others) which is a loose assemblage of musicians who tribute iconic artists ranging from Neil Diamond to The Cure. After his bravura performance of The Zombies "I Love You," fellow Lounge performer Pierce Turner hugged him and pronounced "now you are a singer -- now you are one of us!"

Turner's proclamation was seconded when Edward passed an audition before his heroes Tony Visconti (David Bowie, T. Rex), Clem Burke, and Tony Shanahan (Patti Smith Group), among others for a Marc Bolan and T. Rex tribute. "When Tony looked at me in the eye and said 'you're in mate' I delved deeper into my singing lessons." Edward's progression as songwriter arrived at the chance meeting of George Usher (The Decoys, Beat Rodeo, The Bongos, House of Usher) with whom he still collaborates.

In addition to two highly acclaimed albums as a member of the Bedsit Poets with Amanda Thorpe and Mac Randall (The Summer That Changed, Rendezvous), Rogers' solo cannon is quite impressive. Sunday Fables (2004), You Haven't Been Where I've Been (2008) displayed promise aplenty. Yet Rogers' engaging Sparkle Lane (2010) collection, which drew inspiration from his Birmingham cultural and familial roots and emigration to the USA, and the glam moxie of Porcelain (2011) which was fueled by the artist's love, surrender, and devotion to all things early 1970s Brit rock - is the stuff of observational genius in the tradition of Ray Davies, Ian Hunter, and Colin Blunstone -- the latter two of whom are now Edward's beloved colleagues. "Music has been wonderful to me -- the people who I was fans of are now friends of mine."

To converse with Edward about his new album KAYE is to witness a man on a mission. "I dedicated this album to Kevin Ayers because he is one of those people who have not received his just rewards. Some of it was his own fault," Edward continues, "he certainly had a self-destructive aspect to his personality and life. Still, he was one of the great songwriters of his generation with an amazing body of work -- he deserves to be out there!"

Produced by Don Piper, whom Edward reveals "pointed me in the right direction nine out of ten times," the assemblage of musicians on KAYE created the perfect storm to bring Rogers' vision to fruition. KAYE is a fierce song-cycle with tender moments tempered by sonic outbursts which ebb and flow from track to track. Much praise must be afforded Rogers' cadre of co-players: guitarists Piper, James Mastro (Ian Hunter, Bongos) Pete Kennedy (The Kennedys) Don Fleming (Velvet Monkeys); bassist Sal Maida (Roxy Music); keyboardist Joe McGinty, and cameos by George Olson on trumpet, and legendary downtown fashion denizen backing-vocalists Tish & Snooky, among others.

"Street Fashion" evokes the trashy art-rock stuff of bassist Maida's former ensemble. As is the duty of many an artist, Rogers spits out truth to power in the scathing "What's Happened to the News Today" -- to which Edward lectures to this writer "where do the Kardashians even merit a mention in my life!" Says Edward of the track "My Street" -- "I wanted to write a song like Ray Davies -- I was thinking 'Dead End Street' as I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life on Edgewater Road in Birmingham - many of my friends did." The maddest cut on KAYE stems from a late night jam which was edited from 28:00 to 8:00 entitled "Peter Pan's Dream" wherein McGinty, Mastro, and Maida tear into a bitches brew of angular counter-melodies as Rogers croons melancholy over the mayhem -- "we cut it thinking how would Kevin Ayers would sound if he were alive today."

Edward's rendition of Kevin Ayers' "After the Show" remains faithful to the original -- as it should be -- though Mr. Ayers would have welcomed Tish & Snooky's backing vocal support which quotes the legendary Thunderthighs (Lou Reed's "Walk on the Wild Side," Mott the Hoople's "Roll Away the Stone") in spirit and execution. The title track, with its waltz groove, intones Ayers' dying mantra "you don't shine if you don't burn... you don't shine if you don't burn" -- a lesson rock 'n' roll singer Edward Rogers imparts to all of us by way of Kevin Ayers throughout KAYE.

KAYE by Edward Rogers is out now on ZIP Records.

MEET THE NEW KING OF NEW YORK: KENYON PHILLIPS

By Tom Semioli

This feature appeared on Huffington Post New York, April 2014

Lou Reed is dead; long live the new King of New York: Kenyon Phillips.

When dear Lou left this mortal coil last October, a pall settled over "our" New York -- which includes the boroughs, New Jersey, Long Island and geographical pockets throughout America and around the world that are "New York" in soul, spirit, and the bard's beloved "chi" energy-force. Our rock 'n' roll poet laureate was gone. Fear not, I will refrain from adding to the host of hosannas to Lou and his importance to the silent strain of all "New Yorkers" who recognize that cool can never be co-opted at a CBGB contemporary menswear designer outlet or the like. We know who we are and what Lou meant to us. Now we have a reason to stop mourning.

I first met Kenyon Phillips in the early 21st Century, when Lou's career as a recording artist was slowing down considerably -- especially for those of us who treasure the era wherein one or two releases from rock and jazz musicians was the norm. Phillips was commandeering a band which performed under the name of Unisex Salon. They reminded me of the Velvet Underground; noisy yet melodic, sensuous but always sardonic, frightfully real yet comfortably surreal, modern but mindful of their influences, and always proud of the manner in which they portrayed the gorgeous in the grotesque. Akin to the Underground, Salon had a small but fervent following. They were outsiders in a city that was rapidly being swallowed by insiders.

Kenyon brought me on board to be band's publicist -- an easy job as they were beautiful to look at -- though brutal in their execution. Like Lou's Underground, Salon's media reviews were not always positive. Nonetheless hipsters, dilettantes, kinky Wall Street executives, porn actresses, cable TV divas, and downtown frat boys walked on the wild side to see and hear them. After much prodding from Mr. Phillips, I emerged from musical retirement to become the band's bassist. Our first gig was opening for Lou Reed and several other local luminaries of a bygone era, including Garland Jeffreys and Syl Sylvain, for a benefit at the Bowery Ballroom. Of course, we hung backstage to meet Lou. We expected the worst -- Lou's volatile personality was well documented. Not on that starry, starry night. The King of New York loved his subjects! Lou gazed at Kenyon the way people used to gaze at Lou -- with equal measures of disbelief, admiration, and fascination. When Lou jovially agreed to be in a photograph with us -- a verboten idea to begin with as Lou never, ever, ever took requests or hardly posed in pictures - I knew the torch had been passed -- or perhaps dropped -- onto Kenyon's lap -- flames notwithstanding.

After a year of gigs that were more like "happenings" ala Andy Warhol's Plastic Exploding Inevitable than musical performances - although the music was phenomenal -- I departed the Salon. They had their crack at the mainstream soon after by way of a network reality show appearance - however Kenyon and his troupe were too far ahead of their time for any American demographic. Even the show's host, Tommy Hilfiger, who has a yen for rockers, was baffled by Kenyon. Shades of Lou!

Time marched on and Kenyon's artistry evolved -- he formed another remarkable band Roma! He composed and produced songs for Amy Poehler, Joey Arias, Raven O., and Sherry Vine. You've seen Kenyon's dancing silhouette in campaigns for Apple iPod. You've heard his compositions on network and cable TV -- Showtime's Shameless, CBS Eleventh Hour, MTV's Teen Cribs, and Nickelodeon's The Mighty B!among others. Kenyon's current genre defying ensemble The Ladies In Waiting have found a home at Joe's Pub deep among the luxury condos and chic boutiques of Lower Manhattan. His debut solo EP, Fire in the Hole, sounds like nothing and everything you've heard before.

The new King's latest endeavor is The Life + Death of Kenyon Phillips -- a dreamlike autobiographical rock opera. Like most great works, its genesis was simple: a few of Phillips' artistically astute colleagues urged him to expand his patented rock cabaret format to a full-fledged piece about himself. Recalls Phillips "it struck me as narcissistic, self-indulgent, and intriguing - I loved it!"

Phillips found his template after viewing the film Lola Montes -- a 1950s release directed by Max Ophuls which portrays the romantically and politically tumultuous life of the 19th Century courtesan who bedded, according to an impressed Phillips, Chopin, Liszt, Wagner, and the King of Bavaria. Her story is told by way of a series of flashbacks in which the subject assumes the guise of a circus performer -- and a ringmaster acts as narrator. In Life and Death, Phillips assumes both aforementioned roles with the ringmaster serving as Kenyon's agitated alter ego.

The opera commences with the Kenyon's accidental conception and his graphically Monty Python-esque re-enacted birth, and follows through with various childhood traumas, adolescent sexual dalliances and fantasies, therapy sessions (helmed by Michael Musto, no less), his migration to New York, 9/11, his artistic triumphs and failures, and other incidents; some true, others not so much. "My intention was to create something original -- even though there is nothing new under the sun. This project comes from a desire to take the traditional one-man show idea of 'here's my life story -- and throw a grenade at it."

The world premiere of The Life + Death of Kenyon Philips will take place at Joe's Pub in New York City on May 2, 2014.

The King is dead. Long live the new King of New York.