The Whigs, Deap Vally – Tickets – The Riot Room – Kansas City, MO – June 5th, 2013

The Whigs, Deap Vally

96.5 The Buzz Presents

The Whigs

Deap Vally

Not A Planet

Wed, June 5, 2013

7:30 pm

The Riot Room

Kansas City, MO

$9.65 - $12.00

This event is 21 and over

The Whigs
The Whigs
For their fifth album, the Athens-bred/Nashville-based power trio the Whigs wanted to find the exact midpoint between raw and rehearsed. After more than a decade together-during which they've released four critically lauded studio albums and toured constantly as either headliners or openers for the likes of the Drive-By Truckers, Kings of Leon, and MGMT-the three members all agreed that they wanted to flex their muscles a bit: write some good songs, get them down as tight as possible, hit , and tear shit up.

Says Parker Gispert (guitar/vocals): "We wanted to record quickly, and we wanted to record live. That meant we weren't going to write a bunch of songs that relied on a horn line or any outside instrumentation. That guided the composition of the songs and informed how we approached recording them."

For months the trio hammered these songs into shape at their Nashville practice space, united in a shared mission: to perform these songs with as much energy and excitement as possible, to expertly navigate every tricky tempo change, taut groove, spacy tangent, and ebullient hook. Their infamously raucous live show was never far from their minds. "Our practice space actually has about a foot-high stage," says Julian Dorio (drums), "and we set up like we're playing a show. We know we're going to spend a lot of time on the road touring, so it's always more fun to write something that's going to sound exciting live."

In the fall of 2013, the trio headed west to record with Jim Scott at his PLYRZ Studio in Valencia, California, about thirty miles northwest of Los Angeles. Scott has helmed albums by Tom Petty, Wilco, and Matthew Sweet, among many others, and his experience proved invaluable: "Guys like Jim have made hundreds of records and they've seen bands do the same stuff," says Gispert. "He's seen bands make mistakes and he's seen bands capture some really great material. I felt very comfortable in his hands."

Driven by Dorio's pummeling drums and Gispert's desperate vocals, the punchy "Asking Strangers for Directions" in particular benefitted from Scott's input. Recalls Dorio: "We played it for him and he scratched his head and said, 'Why don't you take the second part and put it after the third part?' It sent us for a loop. It felt backwards and upside-down, but we trusted Jim. We kept working on it, and now I can't imagine it any other way."

With Scott in their corner, the Whigs worked hard to make sure these songs didn't sound worked over. Rather than track each instrument individually, the band captured most of the
songs in first or second takes, playing together live in the studio. Or, as the case may be, just outside the studio. Bypassing the studio proper, they set up shop in the hangout area at PLYRZ: a cavernous room where most artists spend their time eating, listening to records, goofing off, and just chilling out. For the Whigs, however, it became their creative headquarters.

"It has a real clubhouse vibe," says Tim Deaux (bass). "Jim's quite the collector of artwork and memorabilia. He's got neon signs and weird posters and tied-dyed tapestries hanging on the walls. There's a motorcycle in one corner, and there's a Dolly Parton pinball machine." In addition to amps, keyboards, and guitars galore, there is also an elaborate stereo system next to Scott's sprawling vinyl collection-a veritable rock history at the Whigs' fingertips.

And then there's Scott himself, who acted the part of both producer and professor. He regaled the trio with industry war stories, and they soaked up everything. Recalls Gispert: "It's an invaluable reference to work with someone who's recorded artists that have influenced us. If we want to know how they got a particular sound, we can simply ask."

PLYRZ proved inspirational for the Whigs, who channeled Scott's experience as well as his catchall decorative scheme into wildly diverse rock songs that veer abruptly in unexpected directions and channel a dizzying range of influences-often in the same song. "She Is Everywhere" begins as an improbably spry pop-rock song, with a bouncy guitar jangle that evokes L.A.'s Paisley Underground. When the chorus comes around, the tempo slows precipitously and the song settles into a sludge-riff that recalls a time when "Iron Man" still walked the earth. Likewise, "Friday Night" mixes Motörhead momentum with one of the band's catchiest pop hooks, while the martial stomp of "The Particular"-one of the album's headiest and most hyperactive tracks-is punctuated by the band's excitable shouts of "HEY!"

"I feel like we're pulling from a big pool of influences," says Gispert. "We're drawing from different eras and different styles that we haven't really explored on previous albums, and we're trying to incorporate them into a sound that is still the Whigs." Modern Creation is packed with playful allusions to rock's past, yet the band isn't playing to their record collection. Rather, these new songs digest a range of influences and spit them back out as something new, exciting, and idiosyncratic.

In other words, they're working hard to show their range as a power trio, both in the studio and (when they hit the road this spring) on stage. That may be the secret to the Whigs' longevity: Being a power trio means every member has to pull his own weight. "Nobody can lurk or hang back," says Dorio.
"Everybody has to be contributing or else it's going to fall completely flat. You can't have a weak link. This is the rawest rock record we've made so far. It's the truest representation of the band."
Deap Vally
Deap Vally
“I think people could look at us and make one assumption, and then when they see us play, that assumption will be shattered,” says Julie Edwards, Deap Vally’s drummer. “And that’s the beauty of it.”

Indeed there are plenty of assumptions to make about a female duo who on the surface of things are all wild hair, short shorts and lip-curling attitude. But this would not prepare for the sheer hurtling power of their music; the kind of inextinguishable ferocity that cannot be faked or fluked or phoneyed, that can only be hauled up from the guts.

Edwards met her bandmate and co-conspirator Lindsey Troy in the unlikely environs of a crochet class in Los Angeles’s Atwater Village. Edwards was teaching; Troy her new student. “Lindsey learned crochet really fast,” Edwards recalls, “she had good eye-hand co-ordination which was a good sign. But while we crocheted we bonded, and talked about our struggles as artists – how frustrated we were.”

At the time, Edwards was in another duo, the Pity Party, while Troy was performing solo, each somehow orbiting one another as they played different circuits in LA. Both felt unsatisfied — Troy quietly plotting her solo world domination, while Edwards, feeling burnt-out, was contemplating a return to college to study psychology. But following that first fateful meeting their plans began to shift.
We kind of stalked each other online after that a little bit,” is how Edwards explains it. “I was really impressed by her,” adds Troy. “I thought she was really cool. You know, like Cool with a capital C.”

The idea of jamming together seemed a natural one, and at that first session Edwards brought in a bassist friend to make up a three-piece all-female band they jokingly named God’s Cuntry. But with the bassist away on tour thereafter it was just Edwards and Troy — a guitar and a drumkit and two wild voices.

“I knew before we even went in to that first jam it would be special,” says Troy. “I could feel it. And I was happy being a two-piece. A big part of Deap Vally is that there are limitations, and we enjoy those limitations, but at the same time within those confines having no limitations. We like to push boundaries.”

It is when they play that they say they feel freest — ignited by the roar and the pure physicality of it. “I have always wanted to make heavy music,” says Edwards. They speak of their soul and gospel and punk influences, of R’n’B vocal melodies and Blues riffs meeting “powerful dark dissonant Sabbath-esque chord progressions and the spirit of rock ‘n’ roll.” They talk of the “heavy” sensation of fingers stumbling on a new riff, arms beating drum-skins. “It’s just a great release,” says Edwards. “It’s very freeing.”

They first played live in the spring of 2011, first at the Silverlake Lounge and then at the Hotel Café, where Marilyn Manson pushed his way to the front row and heckled them as they took to the stage. After the show the first thing he said to them was, “Can I be your groupie?”

That so many eyes and so much attention lingers on their bodies and their attire does not ruffle them. "Sex is a big part of the spirit of rock ‘n’ roll," says Troy. Look at all the great rockers, the power they had over the crowd. Sexuality is power, and we don’t want to be a neutered band; we like embracing our sexuality. It’s a part of our music, and being women is a big part of it, our lyrics are very much from our experience. We’re very much women.”

Certainly many of the songs on this record are from a powerfully female perspective — from dealing with sleazy men in Creep Life to the glorious two-fingered defiance of Gonna Make My Own Money. “That song is kind of literal,” admits Troy. “My Dad was always saying ‘You’re gonna have to marry a rich man!’” Edwards nods. “And my Dad would be like ’When are you going to meet a nice dentist?’” It is a song, Troy explains, that is about “people underestimating your ability to do things as women and feeling like ‘fuck you I’m going to do this and prove you all wrong!’ It’s that spirit of independence and achievement.”

But there are gentler songs here too, songs about relationship dynamics and heartbreak, as well as a number called Procreate, which was, Edwards elaborates, “an idea Lindsey had, about wanting a guy so much that you want to have their baby. That weird lust that exists, and which I totally relate to, but a lot of people don’t write about, because maybe writing about babies is kind of weird. A man wouldn’t write that song, and if they did it would be a little bit different. It would be more like ‘I wanna knock you up so you stay home and you’re mine forever.’”

They were drawn to each other, they say, by a mutual unapologeticness, by the fact that they are both, by their own definition, socially aggressive women. “I was always very drawn to female performers who were very loud and outspoken and flamboyant,” says Troy. “And I feel like with Deap Vally we are unstoppable – we are so driven, full throttle, it’s undeniable. We really believe in what we represent as a band. And what we represent I feel is like post-post-post feminism.”

By their nature, they say, what they do is political — “In that we’re women,” Troy says, “and we play this type of heavy rock music, not afraid to let it all hang out,” she says proudly. Edwards adds, “So many women masculinise themselves and play their femininity down, and something Lindsey and I felt is that we have never wanted to do that. I’ve been playing drums in tiny shorts for as long as I’ve been playing drums.”

Certainly, short shorts and their breed of visceral, heart-churning rock ‘n’ roll is quite an arresting combination. “I don’t know what image of femininity we’re trying to fulfill,” Edwards says, “and maybe we’re creating a new one: we’re badass but we’re not mean-spirited and angry. We just really, really love heavy music.”

“We believe,” says Troy, “in bringing truly live music back.” Edwards nods. “And we believe in the rock ‘n’ roll revolution, bringing guitar-based rock ‘n’ roll back to the mainstream. We love Led Zeppelin —they’re our heroes. Because that’s a band that played stadiums, didn’t have a safety net of a pre-recorded back-up tape, they didn’t record to a click, and they were really, really sexy and really commanding. And why can’t that happen again? “

Deap Vally’s Debut Album will be released in 2013.

Indeed there are plenty of assumptions to make about a female duo who on the surface of things are all wild hair, short shorts and lip-curling attitude. But this would not prepare for the sheer hurtling power of their music; the kind of inextinguishable ferocity that cannot be faked or fluked or phoneyed, that can only be hauled up from the guts.

Edwards met her bandmate and co-conspirator Lindsey Troy in the unlikely environs of a crochet class in Los Angeles's Atwater Village. Edwards was teaching; Troy her new student. "Lindsey learned crochet really fast," Edwards recalls, "she had good eye-hand co-ordination which was a good sign. But while we crocheted we bonded, and talked about our struggles as artists – how frustrated we were."

At the time, Edwards was in another duo, the Pity Party, while Troy was performing solo, each somehow orbiting one another as they played different circuits in LA. Both felt unsatisfied — Troy quietly plotting her solo world domination, while Edwards, feeling burnt-out, was contemplating a return to college to study psychology. But following that first fateful meeting their plans began to shift.
We kind of stalked each other online after that a little bit," is how Edwards explains it. "I was really impressed by her," adds Troy. "I thought she was really cool. You know, like Cool with a capital C."

The idea of jamming together seemed a natural one, and at that first session Edwards brought in a bassist friend to make up a three-piece all-female band they jokingly named God's Cuntry. But with the bassist away on tour thereafter it was just Edwards and Troy — a guitar and a drumkit and two wild voices.

"I knew before we even went in to that first jam it would be special," says Troy. "I could feel it. And I was happy being a two-piece. A big part of Deap Vally is that there are limitations, and we enjoy those limitations, but at the same time within those confines having no limitations. We like to push boundaries."

It is when they play that they say they feel freest — ignited by the roar and the pure physicality of it. "I have always wanted to make heavy music," says Edwards. They speak of their soul and gospel and punk influences, of R'n'B vocal melodies and Blues riffs meeting "powerful dark dissonant Sabbath-esque chord progressions and the spirit of rock 'n' roll." They talk of the "heavy" sensation of fingers stumbling on a new riff, arms beating drum-skins. "It's just a great release," says Edwards. "It's very freeing."

They first played live in the spring of 2011, first at the Silverlake Lounge and then at the Hotel Café, where Marilyn Manson pushed his way to the front row and heckled them as they took to the stage. After the show the first thing he said to them was, "Can I be your groupie?"

That so many eyes and so much attention lingers on their bodies and their attire does not ruffle them. "Sex is a big part of the spirit of rock 'n' roll," says Troy. Look at all the great rockers, the power they had over the crowd. Sexuality is power, and we don't want to be a neutered band; we like embracing our sexuality. It's a part of our music, and being women is a big part of it, our lyrics are very much from our experience. We're very much women."

Certainly many of the songs on this record are from a powerfully female perspective — from dealing with sleazy men in Creep Life to the glorious two-fingered defiance of Gonna Make My Own Money. "That song is kind of literal," admits Troy. "My Dad was always saying 'You're gonna have to marry a rich man!'" Edwards nods. "And my Dad would be like 'When are you going to meet a nice dentist?'" It is a song, Troy explains, that is about "people underestimating your ability to do things as women and feeling like 'fuck you I'm going to do this and prove you all wrong!' It's that spirit of independence and achievement."

But there are gentler songs here too, songs about relationship dynamics and heartbreak, as well as a number called Procreate, which was, Edwards elaborates, "an idea Lindsey had, about wanting a guy so much that you want to have their baby. That weird lust that exists, and which I totally relate to, but a lot of people don't write about, because maybe writing about babies is kind of weird. A man wouldn't write that song, and if they did it would be a little bit different. It would be more like 'I wanna knock you up so you stay home and you're mine forever.'"

They were drawn to each other, they say, by a mutual unapologeticness, by the fact that they are both, by their own definition, socially aggressive women. "I was always very drawn to female performers who were very loud and outspoken and flamboyant," says Troy. "And I feel like with Deap Vally we are unstoppable – we are so driven, full throttle, it's undeniable. We really believe in what we represent as a band. And what we represent I feel is like post-post-post feminism."

By their nature, they say, what they do is political — "In that we're women," Troy says, "and we play this type of heavy rock music, not afraid to let it all hang out," she says proudly. Edwards adds, "So many women masculinise themselves and play their femininity down, and something Lindsey and I felt is that we have never wanted to do that. I've been playing drums in tiny shorts for as long as I've been playing drums."

Certainly, short shorts and their breed of visceral, heart-churning rock 'n' roll is quite an arresting combination. "I don't know what image of femininity we're trying to fulfill," Edwards says, "and maybe we're creating a new one: we're badass but we're not mean-spirited and angry. We just really, really love heavy music."

"We believe," says Troy, "in bringing truly live music back." Edwards nods. "And we believe in the rock 'n' roll revolution, bringing guitar-based rock 'n' roll back to the mainstream. We love Led Zeppelin —they're our heroes. Because that's a band that played stadiums, didn't have a safety net of a pre-recorded back-up tape, they didn't record to a click, and they were really, really sexy and really commanding. And why can't that happen again? "
Not A Planet
Not A Planet
“...Step into the cage, the spectacle, the few, the proud, the strange...” writes Nathan Corsi, the guitarist, singer, and wordsmith of Not A Planet. Corsi’s carefully crafted and emotionally charged lyrics sync perfectly with the swirling harmonies sung by Liam Sumnicht (drums) and Bill Sturges (bass). The songs unabashedly culminate in a blend of 60’s pop, east coast indie and the blues of the north.
An Akron, Ohio native, Corsi’s musical tastes and influences grew in the same fertile soil that reaped rock and roll innovators like the James Gang, Devo, the Pretenders and the Black Keys. Moving to Kansas City, by way of New York, Corsi met local music-enthusiast poster child and 96.5 the Buzz radio personality, Liam Sumnicht in 2010. With their powers combined, they immediately booked their first tour while Sumnicht simultaneously navigated Corsi throughout the KC music scene.
Extensive touring to the east coast and back in the belly of their (t)rusty van, “Trudy”, Corsi and Sumnicht were accompanied by various and sundry bass players while their bond as bandmates and fellow artists grew stronger. Ripe and ready for a permanent solution, in the winter of 2012, they welcomed a bundle of joy, William “Pretty-Boy” Sturges, with open arms. William’s unmatched joie de vivre made him a natural fit for NAP. A skillful stylist, Sturges’ bass became the glue that bound Not A Planet’s signature sound. Their first release, the NAP Sack EP, was seven tracks gleaned from a scrapped full-length recording. Latecomer, Sturges’ bass tracks were overdubbed, and the songs remixed by Producer Michael Stout of the Beautiful Bodies.
The joy of connection and creating original, honest art compels the trio to bring a dreamscape collaborative to their audience. Once again working alongside Stout, the Not a Planet debut LP, “The Few, The Proud, The Strange” explores life, love, grief and the powerful visions of our collective nocturnal dream world.
Pleased as punch to have been in the top five nominated for “best indie rock song in 2012” by the Independent Music Awards for their song, Turn Me On (NAP Sack EP), Not A Planet has shared the stage with amazing bands like ZZ Ward, Seawolf, Free Energy, Grizzly Bear, Joy Formidable, Maps and Atlases, Bright Light Social Hour, Ha Ha Tonka, The Dirty Heads, Flogging Molly and Antennas Up.
GENRE: Indie Rock
MEMBERS: Nathan Corsi, Guitar/Vocals
Liam Sumnicht, Drums/Harmony Vocals
William Sturges/Bass Guitar/Harmony Vocals
Venue Information:
The Riot Room
4048 Broadway
Kansas City, MO, 64111
http://www.theriotroom.com/
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One Response to The Whigs, Deap Vally – Tickets – The Riot Room – Kansas City, MO – June 5th, 2013

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