Sometimes Getting Lost Is Where We Best Discover Who We Are (Flat Black Studio)

Often, getting lost is the best way to find oneself, and while I am not sure if that plays a motivating role in the acts that come through Flat Black studio, it's a message I have long committed to in a personal sense, and one I feel can be fully applied to this little slice of Midwestern magic resting just north of Lone Tree. If you had any doubt of the rural placement of one of Iowa's most widely known studios, the name of the town its address falls within should be more than a giveaway. As an artist myself, I have long embraced the undeniable benefits that come as a result of pulling oneself away from everyday distractions. It refreshes creativity, and these monthly features have shown that there's significance in the ability to seclude oneself in spaces where all focus can be applied to the creative process free from the static clutter of daily life.

Greeting me at the door of this repurposed barn was Luke Tweedy, the owner, operator, and mastermind behind Flatblack. Luke has had his hands in many things around the Iowa City scene, as is more than apparent in the interview below, and it’d be difficult to find a local music lover that hasn’t crossed his path in some sense. As an artist that often has an overwhelming amount of projects in my pocket as well, I always have a great amount of admiration for creatives with a similar level of passion and persistence. Sometimes it’s a choice, other times it feels one would cease to exist without access to an expressive outlet.

This was my first trip to the rural recording studio, and if you are not a musician, or someone that has attended Grey Area Festival in the past, it's likely you have never found yourself wandering the grounds Flatblack is so aptly placed upon. However, even if you never find yourself standing behind or within the walls of Flat Black, the likelihood you have watched a band, or heard an album recorded here, is extremely high. As a person that has seen and shot countless Midwestern bands, I found myself ogling the wall of records produced here which filled the kitchen space, imagining the sounds of some of my favorite Iowa acts filling the upstairs floor I now found my feet standing upon. Two albums that initially caught my attention were one's from William Elliott Whitmore and Elizabeth Moen, both of which are common fixtures in, and well beyond the Iowa scene. While Whitmore is far from a new name in this scene, I first saw Moen in 2017 and on a national level, she is rising fast. Which if you’ve seen her is more than understandable. Speaking of Whitmore, he has also worked with Luke and Flat Black on other projects he is/was a part of, including one of my favorite Iowa-based acts from recent years, Middle Western.

I know a lot of friends that have albums in their collections that I saw gracing the walls of the studio, and you can definitely give some thanks to Luke for just how great those sound, and the enjoyment that has resulted from listening to them. I think it's easy being an artist from the midwest, and specifically, Iowa, to feel lost, or looked down upon for being outside the normal spaces of "artistic admiration" but places like Flatblack, and creatives like Luke, make me proud to be an Iowan artist, and you can tell Luke takes pride in the local scene in ways we all wish more people would. Artists helping artists is what helps keep us all afloat, and knowing how many lives have crossed paths on this little cut of Iowa countryside thanks to creative passion and artistic expression is a truly beautiful thing.

Matthew: How did you get into the music studio business? Were you (are you still) playing in any local bands in the area, or does your interest focus mostly in music production and not creating the music, so to speak?

Luke: My journey started by being a huge music fan, and although it is cliche to say, of all genres. If it was music related, I wanted to be a part of it. I used to manage Iowa City's "Record Collector", I've been in several bands, from ft(the Shadow Government) to Sinner Frenz, I have a record label (Long Play Records) I co-own with William Elliott Whitmore, a screen printing shop (White Rabbit) I co-own with my wife, doing band merch like T-shirts and posters, and I run a mini-festival outside the studio known as Grey Area. I've also designed record covers, dozens of show posters and a couple of t-shirts as well, I even built the stage in Iowa City's 'Trumpet Blossom Cafe', and put together a PA for the owner Katy, and Lagunitas (Chicago). I just want to be involved wherever I can fit in.

Matthew: Are there any specific genres or artists you've really enjoyed working with throughout your career, why so? Is there any specific style of music/musician that you believe your studio/production style excels at?

Luke: My favorite genre is records that get heard. I work on 1 or more records every week, and this is beyond a full-time job for me. I do Americana, grindcore, hip-hop, punk, experimental, country, rock and so much more. I'd say I work on between 50 and 60 records a year, and have for well over a decade. Some of the LPs I make become some of my favorite records as a music fan, but many of those not too many other people get to hear after they leave this place. For some people writing the music is the hardest part, and for others it's the easiest. It's the self-promotion, booking shows, or running social media accounts that is brutal. Even if you are good at all these things, there is no guarantee people will hear it. Luck is a huge part of the equation.

As far as excelling at a style of production, I tell every single band that comes in here,"I want to make the record you want, in the way you want to make it..." So that means things are always changing, and even if I feel like certain things don't work as well, or the record might benefit from another recording style, I will suggest it, but ultimately I want the band to decide. I also specifically tell bands to produce themselves and let me be the engineer. So many records get made in 3 or 4 days, that I have not even truly learned the songs before the band has already left the property, finished record in hand.

Matthew: For the artist, what is the best way for them to make sure their track is recorded and produced to the best quality when they come in for a session? Of course time/costs can play a major role, outside of practicing/having songs dialed in, are there any suggestions you have for an artist in preparation for time in the studio?

Luke: Practicing for sure, having clear goals and vision, and making sure any choices that need to be made as a band have either been made already or can be made through quick and civilized discussion. When it comes time to mix the songs, give as much time as possible, and have realistic expectations. I cannot tell you the number of records I have mixed in a day, or even part of a day. You'll end up with a record that sounds like that. Lastly, leave ego at the door, and make every choice on what is best for the song.

Matthew: Flat Black is clearly one of the most established and legendary Iowa recording studios currently operating. It may be a bit vague, but with an ever-increasing shift towards a more digital/immediate world, are there any major changes you've seen in the music scene, at least in relation to the recording process or how the average musician approaches the recording process since you began?

Luke: First of all, thank you so much for the kind words. It is hard to pull the camera back and see yourself through the eyes of another, so your statement is humbling and heartwarming at the same time. People know a lot more coming in these days. They all have seen youtube videos of the way this artist or that one does things, know some key brands and terms (like Neumann or compression), and they will have seen a lot more music documentaries. Almost every single artist has recorded themselves on GarageBand, Audacity or Ableton, and understands the basics. This is good and bad. Being a guy with hundreds and hundreds of records under my belt, I have had the opportunity to make a lot of the mistakes and see a lot of the pitfalls of certain approaches. Being too rigid, and not having a fluid, go-with-the-flow attitude, will always cause problems. Take your time, as the song, once released, will be around forever. Quality sometimes takes a bit of time, so enjoy the process.

Matthew: Let’s settle the debate: Which is the best digital audio workstation(daw)? If you don’t feel there is but a workstation to deem the best, is there one you like to use in particular? What is the most beneficial aspect of using this DAW?

Luke: There are a million factors to consider, but personally, I use 'ProTools', for a few reasons. The first, it's the DAW I learned on, and am too heavily invested to change course now. Secondly, in today's recording world, you have to be ready and willing to have projects span multiple studios. Most truly professional studios are using ProTools, so file transfer and getting up and running is a breeze. That said, most DAW's are pretty great these days. The 1's and 0's are all the same, so if you put good audio in, know what you are doing, and have decent enough converters, you will get good audio out. I say use what makes sense to you, what's comfy, and logical, and don't get hung up on brands, or the ideas of another engineer or studio. If you can make great tunes on audacity, or GarageBand, go for it. I never care what gets you to a sound, just the sound.

Matthew: With so much technology involved, what are your favorite pieces of gear made available to artists that use your studio? Are there any pieces of gear that make your studio even more unique and/or help the studio stand out?

Luke: Every studio is different. It is that engineer's vision, within their budget. My vision was a studio in the country, isolated from the noise, and temptations that go along with being within a city. I have 10 acres of wooded land, fire pits, grills, a pond with a beach, places to crash, and 24-hour operation. When I leave, bands can experiment and practice. Try different pedals, amps, and instruments. My best piece of equipment is the space itself.

Matthew: What are some of the biggest hurdles you’ve faced as a music studio, either anticipated or otherwise, and what did you do to overcome these temporary blocks?

Luke: The hours. I work almost every weekend. My days off are nobody else's. I don't have a 401K, or PTO, or sick or vacation days. My 8-hour days are not the same as others. I am in the studio an hour before the band arrives to prep, and an hour after they leave to clean up, and shut everything down. Also, their 8 hours always goes longer than 8. The way I overcome it is, by trying to work reasonable hours on the days I do work, scheduling activities on my days off, and having a firm understanding of how incredibly lucky I am to be in this position and not be digging ditches, or scrubbing toilets (no shade, as those are honorable jobs, but very tough work. Much tougher than working weekends, and no PTO). I know I'm lucky, and I am thankful for it daily.

Matthew: In addition to the recording side of Flat Black, you also host the Grey Area Festival. which showcases bands that you’ve worked with. Was this an idea you all tossed around for a while before it came to fruition, or was it something one of the musicians suggested? What are the biggest benefits/struggles with that side of the music scene compared to the production side?

Luke: Grey Area is a way for me to bring attention to the studio while highlighting some of the artists who work here. It is not a money-making event, as I try and pay the bands fairly, and donate a portion to various charities. After expenses, I call it a labor of love. Music in a rural setting, with excellent sound, and a positive, supportive, and accepting crowd is a fantastic feeling. It is different from city concerts, either indoors, or out. We have a couple of stages, one in the open air, and one in the woods, facing a fire pit. I feel like it is a truly unique, Iowa experience. It's the type of show, and setting I always wanted to see music in, and since it didn't exist, I willed it into being.

Matthew: In closing, what music/musicians have you been hooked on recently? And are there any local artists you’ve worked with that we should be on the lookout for/more people should know?

Luke: I am currently going through a bunch of Dolby Atmos mixes and trying to decide where I fall on that technology, and if it will be a good fit for this place or not. That means I am temporarily moving away from the small and obscure artists I would normally listen to in order to hear what sounds are being made by large artists, with big budgets, to see if that is something I could to bring to this area. That said, this week I bought the newest Horse Lords release and the latest Killer Mike LP as well. As far as stuff I have recorded that people should watch out for: all of it. Everybody has different tastes. I say, just go and support what type of music locally that you are into. If you listen to thrash, Americana, grindcore, country, hip-hop, pop, or weirdo stuff, there are Midwesterners doing it at a high level, and they need your support. It's a win-win when more of the public supports the arts.

Beyond the QC and Behind an Unassuming Bookcase A Modern Multimedia Experience Awaits. (Charm Media Group)

As someone that is about as far from a music/sound engineer as possible, it's easy for me to recognize the unique facets of the various spaces I have been lucky enough to explore and expose through these monthly features, or perhaps it's more that I discover details my naivety allows me to deem more unique than others may. Though, with that being said, and considering each place has it's own undeniable style and atmosphere, Charm Media Group (and owners Travis and Rob) surprised me in ways that further backed-up their expressed goal of bringing something new to the area. Something that while increasingly common/popular in California, which is partially where the idea blossomed, as Rob, one of Charm Media's ownersrecently found himself returning back to the QCA after living in The Golden State, has yet to catch on in the Midwest. Of course we all know how it takes some time for the influence of the coasts to infiltrate the Midwest, and Charm feels like they have their finger on something that could become a lot more desirabeable in the area; an immersive, all in-house operation of sorts.

As I arrived there was nothing about this home, planted in a very average Geneseo neighborhood, that would cause one to expect it to house what I was about to experience. As the name suggests Charm extends itself far beyond a studio where a band would come in for a day or weekend of tracking. They provide an expansive, yet very inclusive, offering where bands quite literally live within the home, at times for upwards of 90 days to focus on writing, creating, and completing enough work to comprise an album. This approach allows a retreat, where musicians can take the time and space necessary to work on old and new ideas alike without feeling rushed. It is a space where one can work on a new track, and in between takes relax in the lounge area of the basement while listening back to tracks through a state of the art sound system wired in the space beneath the main level's floor. Speakers lying flush with the ceiling, in addition to a few built into the wall, provide a full Dolby sound system ideal for hearing playback of what you've been working on.

After initially taking in the space, I turned away from the large television screen where video playbacks can be watched, video being yet another thing offered by Charm Media, and was informed I would probably want to shoot a photo of this unassuming bookcase splitting the space between the basement entrance and the bar which filled one corner of the room. As soon as I got the shots I needed this unexpectedly hinged shelf revelaed itself to be the access point to the heart of the studio operation and vocal booth. Adding even more depth to the room and studio space as a whole.

Charm Media may feel a bit off the beaten path, and as someone that grew up in the QC, I could count on one hand the amount of times I have ventured to Geneseo. However being off the normal path is a major part of their appeal, and I contend you to find another studio locally providing this level of immersion. One that offers musical production work, a place to stay/live while expanding one's expression, as well as providing videography and photography where requested. They even recently created a film, "Everything Fun To Do In Aledo" (Keep checking their social media for updates related to this film). Considering that both these guys are musicians in ther own right, there's no shortage of creative dexterity to be found here.

Matthew: How did you get into the music studio business? Were you (are you still) playing in any local bands in the area, or does your interest focus mostly in music production and not creating the music, so to speak?

Travis: When I was 16 I helped create a band called The Dawn Retreat and we landed a deal where we got to work with this artist development group. When we started that process we got to work out of an industry standard studio in Dublin, OH and it was the most crazy experience to me at the time. I instantly fell in love with recording and the art behind it all. Locally I have played in bands such as The Dawn Retreat, The New Classics, SH!, Dear Divine and Hello Ramona. I mostly just record now, but this summer The Dawn Retreat will be releasing a new album along with a series of music videos with a release show on June 30th 2023.

Rob: I was born into the music industry. My father and much of my family are all musicians. I started playing music at age 7 performing at school and other events starting with a harmonica. I then moved on to guitar and other stringed instruments. I was offered deals as an understudy and performance arts by the age of 9. However, my parents weren’t as open minded at the time for me to involve myself to that degree. I had formed and performed in several local bands in my early teenage years, ultimately ending up with a deal to move to california with one of my bands “Circle 7”. “Circle 7” had moderate success until the lead singer had to relocate back to family for medical purposes. My next band “Star Off Machine” had great success starting on the west coast and then multiple tours across the states. I studied at LARS in Los Angeles for a period of time in between changeups and then started producing music while touring or on break into my mid 20’s.

Matthew: Are there any specific genres or artists you've really enjoyed working with throughout your career, why so? Is there any specific style of music/musician that you believe your studio/production style excels at?

Travis: Honestly I love working with pop/rock or indie rock bands the most. Recently we have been working with a lot of local rappers and I have really enjoyed that experience. During those sessions, I really get the chance to focus mostly on the vocals, and it's always fun trying to create ideas that make certain parts stand out within the track. It's kind of insane how much talent is here in the QCA. Everyone we have worked with is talented and we love trying to bring out the best in each artist we work with.

Rob: I have a special place in my heart for rock/hard rock music, however, I have been open to all genres of music since sitting in a studio environment. Agreeing with Travis on enjoying the opportunity to work with rap artists and focus on post production heavily while living in the midwest has been especially fun because I feel there aren't many other outlets that do this type of post production work to industry standards in their respective fields. Having the ability to work with artists who haven't had a chance to work in larger studios really makes the hours tick by quickly. It’s a lot of fun. When we started this studio flow, I had gone through multiple partnerships locally with little success due to burglary and unprofessional behavior. After landing the “Ghost Town” project for “In The Flesh” I met Travis and we got along very well. I am very proud of that record.

Matthew: For the artist, what is the best way for them to make sure their track is recorded and produced to the best quality when they come in for a session? Of course time/costs can play a major role, outside of practicing/having songs dialed in, are there any suggestions you have for an artist in preparation for time in the studio?

Travis: The best advice I give to prepare a client for a session is to understand demo-titus. Always be open minded in the studio when bringing everything together. Sure demo tracks are great at capturing the idea of the song and sometimes you lay something down that can't be recreated which is always a good idea to make sure you at least get clean recorded tracks when recording demos just in case you end up using it in the final version. Have an open mind, know your song (structure, BPM, keys, tempo changes) and have fun with it.

Rob: I strongly agree with Travis on this. The QCA is an interesting area to produce in. Most new clients have not been exposed to larger studio life, and I feel we bring that expertise to these artists at a fraction of the price.

Matthew: Let’s settle the debate: Which is the best digital audio workstation(daw)? If you don't feel there is but a workstation to deem the best, is there one you like to use in particular? What is the most beneficial aspect of using this DAW?

Travis: I have used almost every DAW out there. I started with Magix and then stepped up to Sonar and then upgraded to Pro Tools. After a few years of using PT I switched to Logic and that was my main DAW for quite some time. I tried learning every DAW as much as possible so I could be well diverse in any setup. If you are on a budget Reaper works well. It is very custom and there are several engineers out there that swear by it. Recently in the past 3-4 years I have been using Studio One and after working with this DAW and learning a lot about it I would have to say it's the best DAW out there. Everything that comes out of CHARM is recorded with Studio One.

Rob: I studied video editing and effects before studying music, so my first recording DAW was Adobe. After using nearly every PRO audio DAW the majority of the industry uses, I settled on Studio One. Working with people at Activision/Blizzard Entertainment, I learned that the most favorable and flexible DAW was Studio One as they predicted many many years ago. You have to listen to the nerds in the trenches sometimes!

Matthew: With so much technology involved, what are your favorite pieces of gear made available to artists that use your studio? Are there any pieces of gear that make your studio even more unique and/or help the studio stand out?

Travis: We are a modern day studio so we have a really nice digital setup over analog. We can get our hands on pretty much anything and everything if needed. I am a really big fan of our AKG C214 mic, it's one of my favorite mics I have ever used. We also have a nice collection of some really nice guitars. PRS, Gibson, Fender, Epiphione, Martin. Although we do most tracking in the box for guitars we still have a few nice amps at the studio that can be used as well. Mesa so, 4x12 cab, Bogner 2x12, Blackstar. In general I really like our control room setup. We have a nice Presonus live mixing board with Adams speakers paired with a JBL and Adam sub and our room is acoustically treated to perfection. Mixing and Mastering in our control room is one of the best in the area.

Rob: I’m agreeing with Travis again on this point. If we don’t have what is needed for a session, we can get a hold of the gear as needed asap. Otherwise, we haven’t had any issues thus far. We do tend to stay in the digital realm for the most part, but we also have some of the finest analog gear as well.

Matthew: We know artists will always attempt to make audio recordings in their own home? Are these recordings something you can traditionally/commonly work with? If so, what's the best way for them to do so? If not what causes the biggest issue with home recordings?

Travis: I am always a fan of recording demos or any pre-production work. It gives me a great chance to listen to what has already been created to come up with stronger ideas or help find the vibe so I am able to deliver the sound the artist is going for. When bringing material to the studio it is also nice to have a dedicated engineer and producer during the session. I have recorded many times with other studios when I was performing in my band and even though I knew how to record, mix and edit it was super nice having someone else do that work while I got to focus more on the writing side of things. I know a lot of artists can record out of their bedrooms now and almost achieve the sound they are going for but like I said it's better to go somewhere to a place you feel comfortable and have a team that you can trust to work on your project. It's less of a workload for yourself and you'll have a team of professionals working on your project.

Rob: There is almost always room for improvement over someone who recorded in a bedroom budget studio. However, sometimes a phrase or riff can’t be completely redesigned with the same magic for whatever reason. If there is gold in the demo, we will utilize it.

Matthew: What are some of the biggest hurdles you've faced as a music studio, either anticipated or otherwise, and what did you do to overcome these temporary blocks?

The hardest thing is mostly just staying on top of everything in a timely manner. We are a busy studio and we have a lot of clients that we work with. Keeping track of each project with their due dates and releases is sometimes challenging. When we started getting busy we decided to start building a team so we can delegate the workload and make sure we can deliver every single time. Keeping the client/artist motivated and focused is another hurdle at times. Creating art can be tiring and can have take a toll on you and artists like to bring themselves down about what they put out so we are good at encouraging the artist and keeping them focused during the session so they are happy with the end product. Also, there are some very talented people we work with that could reach so many more ears and eyes that deserve to share their message with the world. It’s not always in the budget, but we will do our best with industry contacts to try and help as much as possible.

Matthew: In closing, what music/musicians have you been hooked on recently? And are there any local artists you've worked with that we should be on the lookout for/more people should know?

Travis: I am a fan of Caleb Shomo of Beartooth. I have always followed him, even when he was with Attack Attack. I have seen him play a few times. He also records, and is an inspiration to me with life as well as on the music side of things. I can't narrow down any local artist but I can tell you Threezus, Mitchell T, Revo and Sirified helped me get back in the game with recording again. I took a few years off and those groups of guys made me fall back in love with it again. I will always appreciate them.

Rob: Travis has listed many of the emerging artists that we both agree upon here in the QCA. There are some other studios and artists that we work with across the country such as Razatti in Maryland. We bounce work back and forth to create some really great songs with various artists depending on genre, most of which do very well in the public eye/ear. We have a lot in the hopper and are looking forward to mastering these projects for the masses to hear.

Between Prophets, Prohibition, and Present-Day: Skylark Establishes an Aesthetic in Rock Island

Located along the one-way rush of 7th Ave in Rock Island, only a couple blocks from the Moline border, lies an old building that began as a church in the late 19th century, living several non-secular based roles, before once more becoming a place of worship prior to being taken over by the current operators, Skylark. As a photographer, I have always found myself drawn to the architecture of these spaces more than what was being preached about beyond the stained glass windows, and arching walls. The stained glass still situated within the walls brought on thoughts of where this building began, as fragments of color were painting themselves across the floor and onto the occupants of the space as the sun began settling down for the day. The sounds filling this place possess an undeniable passion, but the praise is now placed on personal creation over exterior exaltation. Skylark may have adjusted the building in ways seemingly foreign to past parishioners, however as those previous occupants saw the church, Skylark has become a true outlet, almost a beacon of the community. Extending beyond the recording scene, Skylark can be rented out as an event space, seeing "flea markets", shows from both local and nationally touring acts, various art/comedy events, as well as private parties on a weekly basis, it is the recording studio side that brought me here for my first visit and was what originally brought Skylark to my attention well before the thought of creating monthly studio features was developed.

While the schedule at Skylark, and what is unfolding within these walls, is everchanging, a quick look at their event calendar makes it clear that slowing down isn't really in their future. As an artist, I know how important staying busy can be, especially when attempting to keep progressing, and from my experience the creative scene tends to be an active one, seldom ceasing its motion. This active energy was more than present when I arrived to shoot around the studio. I walked into one session finishing up tracking direct from within the room where the mixing console and "production team" are housed, while concurrently the guys from Michael Moncada and Whiskey High were already setting up and running through takes as Justin Farley and a pair of assistants helped get everything plugged in and ready to record the full band "live" in the open space where crowds gather to watch shows; the same space which once would have housed the church's congregation, or bar-goers after a shift at International Harvester. I moved around capturing the scene while the band got their sound dialed in, a drone weaved through the rooms getting video of the event, and a musician leaving the first session of the evening stopped in to hug and say hello to a friend in Whiskey High. It was a true intertwining of the arts convened, even if only momentarily, in this one room in Rock Island.

This building holds more stories than one could fit into a single lifetime, but it's clear that Skylark, and all those involved with this studio/space are making their mark and making sure the history held in this "house of worship" continues to be built upon well into the 21st century.

Matthew: How did you get into the music studio business? Were you (are you still) playing in any local bands in the area, or does your interest focus mostly on music production and not creating the music, so to speak?

Justin Farley/Skylark: I've always been a musician first. I started playing piano at age 3, then I was in school band 4th-12th grade (clarinet, 2 saxophones, drum line). I also picked up guitar/bass and a drum set around freshman year. After high school, I played in local bands eventually ending up in LA. After the band fizzled, I went to the Los Angeles Recording School. I finished the program and interned at a few studios and venues. A few years later I moved back to the QC and started running live sound while I built my studio. I started mixing shows at Ribco and then was the 1st sound engineer at Redstone Room and did all the shows for the first 6 years. After that, I was the primary engineer at Rascals for a few years. Every couple of years I'll fill in with a band on drums, but I’m always making dumb riffs on guitar during my downtime. Mostly it's just working on my engineering skills.

Matthew: Are there any specific genres or artists you've really enjoyed working with throughout your career, why so? Is there any specific style of music/musician that you believe your studio/production style excels at?

Justin: I am not a specialist in any single one; I can record and produce all genres. I attribute this to my musical background and all of the diverse acts that I've run sound for. There's not an instrument or genre I haven't worked with multiple times. In our little market, I believe that's been key to getting work. Some days it's blues, then Mexican folk music, then metal, then producing a radio/tv commercial or doing voice-overwork for a show like American Pickers. I've watched a lot of studios come and go since I opened up in 2007 and the common reason for them closing is not enough work in their particular genre of specialty.

Matthew: That’s a great point. It’s important for all artists to be able to work across several genres/facets of their particular medium. Speaking of the artist, what is the best way for them to make sure their track is recorded and produced to the best quality when they come in for a session? Of course time/costs can play a major role, outside of practicing/having songs dialed in, are there any suggestions you have for an artist in preparation for time in the studio?

Justin: Trick question because the answer is definitely practice. Other than that, it's making sure your instrument is studio ready. New strings, new drum heads, etc. if you're singing, maybe don't go to karaoke until the bar closes the night before a session.

Matthew: Let’s settle the debate: Which is the best digital audio workstation(daw)? If you don't feel there is but a workstation to deem the best, is there one you like to use in particular? What is the most beneficial aspect of using this DAW?

Justin: That's like asking which language is better. All DAWs have the same functions anymore. It's whichever one you're fluent on. My suggestion would be to pick a top 3 DAW and stick with it. It takes years to master one, but once you do it is easier to pick up others. I'm a Pro Tools user but I don't think it's an advantage or disadvantage. I've heard amazing music come from all DAWs.

Matthew: With so much technology involved, what are your favorite pieces of gear made available to artists that use your studio? Are there any pieces of gear that make your studio even more unique and/or help the studio stand out?

Justin: My best pieces of gear are my ears. With good and well-trained ears you can work on anything. Back in the day before everyone had computers and access to plugins, a studio could boast a specific Mic or piece of rack gear but anymore the field is mostly leveled in that way. Experience and ears are my tools. Having a badass room to record in helps a ton.

Matthew: That makes a lot of sense, and I am sure the space itself helps, as it’s one of the most unique studios I’ve ever stepped into. We know artists will always attempt to make audio recordings in their own homes. Are these recordings something you can traditionally/commonly work with? If so, what's the best way for them to do so? If not what causes the biggest issue with home recordings?

Justin: That's the new wave. I get a lot of clients coming in just to get drums recorded because they record vocals and guitars at home. I'm here for it. I get excited when guys come in with pre recorded tracks and skeletons of their songs. It means they already have a vision for the final product and know what they need. Also to me, it means they care just a little more than the next guys.

Matthew: What are some of the biggest hurdles you've faced as a music studio, either anticipated or otherwise, and what did you do to overcome these temporary blocks?

Justin: I moved out of my small office-sized studio and got into this beautiful old church in rock island 60 days before Covid happened. I had a lot of projects and concerts booked and then it was full stop until February of 2022. By far the hardest thing the studio has gone through. I even had a break-in and lost some equipment over lockdown. Luckily they didn't steal my ears or experience.

Matthew: In closing, what music/musicians have you been hooked on recently? And are there any local artists you've worked with that we should be on the lookout for/more people should know?

Justin: I'm that guy that actually listens to everything. If I've been working on funk or metal all day, then I'm listening to classical music at home. If I'm doing Americana or blues in the studio all day, I'm listening to rap or EDM at home. So I'm into whatever is the polar opposite of what I’ve been doing at work all day. The common denominator is talented musicians. I learned long ago running sound that even if you don't (yet) like the genre you're working on, you might find that the bass player is killer or the drummer is a stud. I like listening to stuff that sounds too hard for me to play. I can move around and jam on many different instruments, so when I listen to music I instinctively put myself in the bass player's shoes. Then I'll imagine I'm the drummer and so on. I've always done this since I was a kid staying up to watch a band on SNL. What I really love is when I hear or see someone do stuff that I could never do and my soul just explodes with excitement and happiness.

An Interview with Robert Siegwarth of Codfish Hollow and Ace Radio & TV

This month's feature takes us a bit out of the QCA, and while the location is a bit of a drive North from "Quad Cities Proper", the driving force behind this studio, Robert Siegwarth certainly plays a major role in the music scene of this area, as well as helping represent Iowa music/musicians/venues in the process. Robert runs sound at Codfish Hollow, which is where our paths first crossed years ago. Codfish is a magical space that rests just outside of Maquoketa, a town still known for its underground caverns which is quickly becoming known nationwide for being home to a venue/music that has become anything but underground. Codfish has grown into a legendary venue in the sense that there's not another space that can really match the feeling this venue brings on, a freedom of sorts seldom experienced in the "normal world" that keeps bringing everyone back for more. If you've ever been within the walls of that barn, or absorbed the sounds of a show from the comfort of the hill that expands just beyond the barn's main entrance, you have most certainly heard (if not felt) some of the sound work Robert can claim responsibility for. In addition to running sound, he also records many of the performances, some of which can be heard on IPR.

Many of the people that help Codfish operate are unsurprisingly creative, from painters and musicans, to masters in the ways of gardening/agriculture, and this creative nature is clear when I arrived at Robert's, a complex of sorts nestled about 10 miles North of Maquoketa in a valley called Otter Creek that is more of a title than a town. Upon arrival I was greeted by a welcome committee of dogs, which should be more common with music studios. When entering the large garage space attached to his home the first thing to catch my attention was a light blue '65 Impala Convertible, and Robert informed me of his love for restoring old cars, which was made clear when he gave further details on originally rescuing this now impeccable Impala from a junkyard for $30. The car world kind of took over when he was young, and I can understand why. And though it put his musical/production endeavors a bit on the back burner he knew he wanted to build his studio, and I am glad he did, because it's a beautiful space. As someone that always stretches his creative muscle across several mediums I more than understand how difficult it can be to keep all personal outlets equally "present."

This life makes it so easy to rush things, be it a conversation or an artistic dream, and sometimes patience pays off the most in the end. I think this gradual studio development is fitting for the space, as Robert's home is certainly off the beaten path and I believe such a removal from the rush of the everyday is great for creation. The surroundings are calm and inviting, mirroring the studio space itself, and while it is "out there" there aren't many studios where one could record a take in the vocal booth and then in a matter of seconds find themselves relaxing outside next to a firepit overlooking the woods, plotting the next take. This studio may be just establishing itself, but it really doesn't feel as such, and after getting to hear snippets of sessions recorded there I was finding myself wanting to jump behind the studio's kit and record a few tracks myself.

Matthew: How did you get into the music studio business? Were you (are you still) playing in any local bands in the area, or does your interest focus mostly in music production and not creating the music, so to speak?

Robert: It was kind of a natural progression from my live work. I’ve always been interested in playing, but have rarely taken the time to practice to get good at it, so the technical aspects of music production are a better fit for me. Ever since I built my house – starting 20 years ago – I’ve always had my basement space envisioned as a studio. I’ve finally taken the time to make that happen. Along with that, I’m actually setting aside time to practice too!

Matthew: Are there any specific genres or artists you've really enjoyed working with throughout your career, why so? Is there any specific style of music/musician that you believe your studio/production style excels at?

Robert: I really have an open palette of musical interests, so I like to mix it up a bit. Doing sound production at Codfish Hollow has given me the opportunity to work with all kinds of musical styles. I enjoy the purity of mostly acoustic instruments and the challenges of getting the most natural sounding results, but also really like a full rock band, as it gives me a lot of stuff to work with. I put a lot of work into the production space in the studio, so I’d say my favorite thing to do is record the live sessions I do and produce those. There is just so much energy that can’t be captured in a normal studio setting, and I don’t think there is anything better than a well produced live set to capture that.

Matthew: For the artist, what is the best way for them to make sure their track is recorded and produced to the best quality when they come in for a session? Of course time/costs can play a major role, outside of practicing/having songs dialed in, are there any suggestions you have for an artist in preparation for time in the studio?

Robert: I’d definitely have to reinforce the practice part for sure. Beyond that, you should make notes about what you’d like to accomplish, and make sure you have everything along to make that happen. Make sure all your gear is ready to go, so you aren’t wasting time messing with your stuff during your session.

Matthew: Let’s settle the debate: Which is the best digital audio workstation(daw)? If you don't feel there is but a workstation to deem the best, is there one you like to use in particular? What is the most beneficial aspect of using this DAW?

Robert: I’ve used a few, but for me PreSonus StudioOne is the clear choice for me. It is just as powerful and feature packed as the popular Pro Tools, but much easier to use. Since most all my sound gear is PreSonus, it integrates perfectly. There are so many great plug-ins, loops and sounds that come with this software, I rarely have to purchase anything extra, plus they are constantly improving and adding features. A lot of the artists I work with also use StudioOne, so it makes it really convenient to collaborate on the production.

Matthew: With so much technology involved, what are your favorite pieces of gear made available to artists that use your studio? Are there any pieces of gear that make your studio even more unique and/or help the studio stand out?

Robert: I really like the network structure of my recording interface. It makes it super easy to put an artist or gear anywhere I want to get the right sound. I can literally use my entire house and shop as part of the studio. It also allows everyone in the group to easily dial in their own individual headphone mix right on their phone or tablet.

Matthew: We know artists will always attempt to make audio recordings in their own home? Are these recordings something you can traditionally/commonly work with? If so, what's the best way for them to do so? If not what causes the biggest issue with home recordings?

Robert: I have a lot of artists send me home recorded tracks. Background noise is probably the biggest issue, so make sure all your appliances are off and turn off the heat or A/C while you record. Make sure you use a good quality mic that works with your voice or instrument, and be aware of your surroundings so the room doesn’t add any unwanted resonant frequencies or reflections to the recording.

Matthew: What are some of the biggest hurdles you've faced as a music studio, either anticipated or otherwise, and what did you do to overcome these temporary blocks?

Robert: As I’m just getting started with my studio endeavor, the biggest issue is just getting the word out that I’m here. Beyond that, it’s making sure I have the right gear for a particular artist or group. I’ve built up a pretty nice selection of microphones to be able to offer a lot of alternatives to suit just about anything that comes in

Matthew: In closing, what music/musicians have you been hooked on recently? And are there any local artists you've worked with that we should be on the lookout for/more people should know?

Robert: Some of my current favorites I’d love to work with either live or otherwise: JD McPherson, Old 97s, Southern Culture On The Skids, The Shins, Nick Shoulders.

Bands that I’ve had the pleasure to work with, that everyone should know: SUSTO, The Artisanals, The Lone Bellow, Devochka, Jeremy Pinnell, Future Islands.

Some outstanding regional acts: Flash In A Pan, Them Coulee Boys, Joseph Huber, Good Morning Bedlam, Way Down Wanderers, The Last Revel, Miles Nielsen & The Rusted Hearts.

An interview with Murray Lee from Modern Myth Studios

The East Village of Davenport looked a little less lively on a hazy Saturday morning as the rain struggled to decide if it would keep falling or simply hang above, haunting the city all afternoon. The spirits provided the night prior had all dried up while I made my way past the baseball fields and businesses newly in transition. Nestled in the neighborhoods northeast of the main 11th St stretch, before the Avenue winds and races up the hill rests Modern Myth. Just steps from Eastern, Modern Myth appears unique in comparison to the more modern houses along this street; homes within which they wish they could create the magic that has repeatedly unfurled within these walls.

Modern Myth is the braindchild of Murray Lee Rice, someone I have known since we were both teenagers. If you have any involvement in the local music scene and/or Common Chord, you have almost certainly seen and heard him on stage. He has become a fixture in the local scene, being a major part of several acts, including Rude Punch, and Logan Springer & The Wonderfully Wild, in addtion to creating and recording his own profound musical concepts, under the name Murray Lee and The Sons of Hades; a group that was featured as part of the 2021 edition of Alternating Currents. Even before delving into his studio, and the aspects of his approach to recording, it's clear Murray has a deep commitment to music, songwriting, and the process of building expression from the ground up. When entering the room, it feels welcoming, and while it is houses a variety of instruments one would expect to see in a studio there are also shelves of books and several cameras sitting around the space, showcasing Murray’s appreciation of a myriad of artistic mediums. In addition to the interview I left the studio with a new short story to read, gifted from Murray, a reminder of the importance of friends (and individuals) and that so openly share with the others the art which they define as inspiration.

Matthew: How did you get into the music studio business? Were you (are you still) playing in any local bands in the area, or does your interest focus mostly in music production and not creating the music, so to speak?

Murray/Modern Myth: Lack of money. I’m a musician before an engineer and I needed a space to put down my ideas. I never had enough money (and still don’t) to go into a studio and start tracking so like a lot of people these days, I started doing it myself. Being more on the musician side of things, my studio is more of a pre-production space; a place for a band to put down their ideas, rehearse and get some good demos before they head into a more expensive studio.

Matthew: Are there any specific genres or artists you've really enjoyed working with throughout your career, why so? Is there any specific style of music/musician that you believe your studio/production style excels at?

Murray/Modern Myth: One of my first customers at the studio was the Avey Grouws Band and they utilized the space exactly how I’m trying to sell it. They came in with some song ideas, did some woodshedding, rehearsed diligently, knocked out a lot of demos, and then went down to Nashville and recorded a Billboard topping album with a Grammy award winning producer. That perfectly encapsulates how I envision my role in the music making process.

Matthew: For the artist, what is the best way for them to make sure their track is recorded and produced to the best quality when they come in for a session? Of course time/costs can play a major role, outside of practicing/having songs dialed in, are there any suggestions you have for an artist in preparation for time in the studio?

Murray/Modern Myth: If at all possible, play the songs out live as much as you can before recording them. Recording a take, no matter what instrument, is recording a performance and playing a song in front of an audience can and should inform your performance in the studio. There’s a great story from one of David Bowie’s engineers that I'll try and paraphrase. He said Bowie would do his vocals in one take. He’d get in the vocal booth “in-character” and just perform the hell out of the song like he was singing in front of a sold out crowd.

Matthew: Let’s settle the debate: Which is the best digital audio workstation(daw)? If you don't feel there is but a workstation to deem the best, is there one you like to use in particular? What is the most beneficial aspect of using this DAW?

Murray/Modern Myth: Oh man, I’ll be upfront about this one, they all sound the same, and it really doesn’t matter. I use Ableton because I only had to pay for it once. If anyone is in the market for a DAW, just pick one and learn it. If you’re a musician or a band looking for a studio, it doesn’t matter what they use, as long as they’re proficient and have a good workflow, it doesn’t matter. To me Tape vs. Digital is even becoming a dull debate. Songwriting is more important than any of that. People are more willing to listen to a good song recorded poorly than a bad song recorded in a multi-million dollar studio. I will say though, if your heart is set on tape, you better book some rehearsal time at my space before your session.

Matthew: With so much technology involved, what are your favorite pieces of gear made available to artists that use your studio? Are there any pieces of gear that make your studio even more unique and/or help the studio stand out?

Murray/Modern Myth: Being on the production side of things, I have a lot of sounds available. A lot of them are digital, like emulations of every synth you can think of, or whole string sections, but they really come in handy during that writing/experimentation phase. What would this song sound like with a violin, or a minimoog, or a mellotron? Let's find out real quick.

Matthew: We know artists will always attempt to make audio recordings in their own home? Are these recordings something you can traditionally/commonly work with? If so, what's the best way for them to do so? If not what causes the biggest issue with home recordings?

Murray/Modern Myth: If you want to do it yourself, the first thing you should work on is the sound straight from the microphone. Learn what sound treatment is and how it works, treat your space, and use good microphones. The part about microphones may seem subjective but I’ve learned that it’s kind of a hard truth, you just need good microphones and honestly the price is a good indicator of how good the microphone will be.Trust me, I’ve used every microphone in the $300-600 price range, and while there are some good ones, a lot of times they just don’t cut it. So knowing that you have to ask yourself, do I want to spend a minimum of $3,000 dollars on a microphone and another $2000 to treat the space, just so I can say I recorded it myself, or take a third of and do a full album at a local studio. If you want to be an engineer go for it, if you’re a musician just let the engineers track it at their place.

Matthew: What are some of the biggest hurdles you've faced as a music studio, either anticipated or otherwise, and what did you do to overcome these temporary blocks?

Murray/Modern Myth: I am just the worst at promoting myself and the space. I don’t really use social media anymore to make matters worse, but luckily there’s publications like the Matthew that are very proactive in their outreach and inclusion. Otherwise, my work at the studio is pretty laid back and low-key.

Matthew: In closing, what music/musicians have you been hooked on recently? And are there any local artists you've worked with that we should be on the lookout for/more people should know?

Murray/Modern Myth: Andy Shauf just put out a new album that I’ve been digging on. His albums always have such great production value. For local artists, I’ve been trying to get JD Aguilera in again and eventually into a bigger studio. He’s got some great originals that need to be recorded. Make sure to tag him in this, maybe that’ll get the ball rollin’.

An interview with Pat Stolley from Future AppleTree Studio

The Quad Cities is, at its core, a crossroads for music. Along both sides of the muddy Mississippi, which splits our co-op community, you can find live music every night of the week, and often, more shows than you could hope to attend without cloning yourself. Growing up in the Quad Cities there were plenty of small local DIY shows to weekly, and of course we had The Mark, but the mid-level acts we are now so used to seeing come through our area drove right on by while headed to Chicago, Omaha, Minneapolis, or another larger market. In 2006 this began to change thanks to Daytrotter, which Pat played a major role in, recording bands in his Rock Island studio, a studio known as FutureAppletree. Utilizing a completely analog setup with minimal editing Daytrotter and Futureappletree quickly garnered national attention, winning Billboard.com’s Music Blog of the Year in 2007. While Pat has cut back on with his recordings, focusing on a few local acts, as well as adding the low end as bassist for the amazing QC band Running Man, his contributions to the local scene on a regional and national level must not be denied or ignored.

Matthew: How did you get into the music studio business? Were you (are you still) playing in any  local  bands  in  the  area,  or  does  your  interest  focus  mostly  in  music  production  and not creating the music, so to speak?  

Pat: I got into the business by being the guy who had the recorder, really.  And I like recording.  I had various setups. 4 tracks, 8 tracks,  adat, etc. I was playing in a couple indie rock bands …otis and then the multiple cat.  I now play bass in a band called running  man. I'd say I'm more interested in playing music and working on electronics  these days. 

Matthew: Are there any specific genres or artists you've really enjoyed working with throughout your career, why so? Is there any specific style of music/musician that you believe your studio/production style excels at? 

Pat: I'm more into odd stuff, off kilter rock  and folk. I  worked for  daytrotter the entire time they were  around  so  lots  of  different  genres.  I've always liked off the wall twisted  kind of  things,  all over the place.  I'd  say  I'm best at lighter quirky kinds of rock and folk

Matthew: For the artist, what is the best way for them to make sure their track is  recorded and produced to the best quality  when they come in for a session? Of course time/costs can play a major  role, outside of practicing/having songs dialed in, are there any  suggestions you have for an artist  in preparation for time in the  studio? 

Pat: Have  reasonable  expectations  and  be  ready  to  describe  what you'd want in the end. Cost is always a factor.  Most of the things I gravitate toward are younger bands who have no money, so  they end up not being able to spend time on things. I need to pay the bills so I need to charge, but  it  feels  funny  because  these  people are not earning a lot. 

As far as preparation I'd double down on what was already there…practice.  I'm all analog, or 95%, so performance  is everything. We can punch in and edit a bit, but you just have to be ready to play. 

Matthew: Let’s settle the debate: Which is the best digital audio workstation(daw)? If you  don't  feel there is but a workstation to deem the best, is there one you like to use in particular? What is the most beneficial aspect of using this DAW? 

Pat: If I use a daw I use Reaper.  It's the only one I've ever kind of  liked. It's really easy.  I had pro tools and hated it.  I used cubase a while and it was ok. I use Reaper like it's a tape  recorder.  I use the tape mode. No saving layers.  Like I said I'm 95% analog.  

16 track 2", 

8 track 1", 

¼" and ½" mix down decks.  

I'm working on a ½" ampex 4 track.  

Computers sound fine but I like the analog workflow. 

Matthew: With so much technology involved, what are your favorite pieces of gear made available to artists that use your studio? Are there any pieces of gear that make your studio even more unique and/or help the studio stand out? 

Pat: I really like my old Urei 1176 units and my Neumann u47 fet mic.  I have several tube limiters and the like.  I like tape delays  and ribbon mics.  I have a lot of old synths and amps and guitars and pedals.  I like older things.  I'm not sure most people really get what  it all is. I've had to explain what stereo vs mono is to clients. 

Matthew: We know artists will always attempt to make audio recordings in their own home? Are these recordings something you can  traditionally/commonly work with?  If so, what's the best way for them to do so? If not what causes the biggest issue with home recordings? 

Pat: I think home recording is great.  I've done some mixing of things people recorded and Ilike doing that.  It saves time and money.  I think it's fun to  mix stuff that was recorded less than perfect…it gives it character.  It just has to align with expectations.   I think  artists should just record what they want, how they want, and not worry about it. The only big issues can be noise and some phase problems. 

Matthew: What are some of the biggest hurdles you've faced as a music studio, either anticipated or otherwise, and what did you do to overcome these temporary blocks? 

Pat: Well, I'm kind of not doing much recording anymore since covid, and that's fine.  Hurdles would be matching the artists drive with my ability to stay energized.  Artists are really hot to work and tend to forget I need a break, especially when doing overdubs.   Each band member rests and then is pumped up, but I've been working the whole time.  They don't get how grueling it is.  When I look at having 3-7 days in studio I get really crabby.  

When we get to work I feel better, but it's still a big shift from my normal life which is do  what I want when i want. Coffee helps, and just insisting on a schedule that includes breaks and down time.  

Another hurdle is watching bands make the same mistakes over and over. They don't see  what they're doing but I do. They make choices that don't serve the project and it suffers as a result.  They don't take chances.  They second guess and overthink. It gets boring to me and is part of the reason I stepped back from working.   I'm not sure how to overcome that except to have a producer,  and that just doesn't happen  much anymore. 

Matthew: In closing, what music/musicians have you been hooked on recently? And are there any local artists you've worked with that we should be on the lookout for/more people should know? 

Pat: I like the bands I work with Subatlantic and The Velies. They're local.   Both like to work together and try new things.   As far as bands at  large, there are quite a few.  I really like Rolling Blackouts cf, Parquet Courts, Tiny Ruins, Hot Chip, (as well as) lots of mellow female folk  like Weyes Blood etc.  I'm not into any rap or country or new metal. 

Codfish Conversations #9: Charlie Parr

Charlie Parr is no stranger to playing in barns, long before he first came to Codfish years ago. Given his history, growing up in the Midwest playing Folk/Americana music inspired by the Blue-Collar cities and citizens he was surrounded by, such a fact seems fitting. His songs echo the stories of these individuals, and you can feel the passion he carries for these people and places, along with the life that they live…the life he lives as well, even at times if only vicariously through the eyes of those hearty individuals that help supply the heartbeat for his songs. Charlie is a very interesting, easy-to-talk-to person, and I had the chance to sit down with him while his tea steeped and a trio of farm dogs passed by, distracting both of us at times from the questions hanging in the air. We spoke about what originally sparked his love for music in Austin, Minnesota, to his adoration of folk art and artist Bill Traylor, and there’s even a random Prince story thrown in, because if you were that involved in the Minneapolis music scene in the 80’s you’ve got at least one good Prince story.

Matthew: Okay. Let's just as an introduction for people who aren't familiar with you, who are you. how long have you been playing and where do you call home?

Charlie: Sure. My name is Charlie Parr. I've been playing, well I've been playing shows since the late 80s. I've been playing professionally, since 2001. I haven't had a job since then.

Matthew: Okay. As a professional artist myself, I know sometimes that there's just not another option. But what originally got you into making music and then trying to pursue it in a professional sense?

Charlie: Well, I mean, I think it's partially the usual thing. When I was a kid, I became obsessed, and I played all the time. That's all I wanted to do. I dropped out of high school because that's all I thought about…practicing. It became hard to hold a job. You know and I had a couple of good jobs, and I was working and stuff, and I didn't really think about making music a career. I never really did that. I just thought, I just like doing this.

Matthew: It wasn't the goal necessarily.

Charlie: It wasn't really the goal. And when my son was born and learning about how expensive daycare was, you know, I stopped working my day job so I could take care of him.

Matthew: Yeah, that makes sense.

Charlie: And I went on hiatus, which I'm still on, I guess, technically, but, you know, I was gigging and it was going well. Eventually he starts school, and, you know, I started playing more and more and more and then thought, well, I'll just do this because I was keeping my nose above the water, and I still am.

Matthew: Nice. That's always good.

Charlie: Yeah.

Matthew: I do a lot of photo work and I've shown a lot of my stuff in Minnesota, so I've always found a lot of like a lot of inspiration there and always kind of felt like it gets underappreciated with a lot of like being seen as a big art scene. What has inspired you about your roots from Minnesota? Or continues to inspire you about them?

Charlie: That's a big question, and Minnesota is such a big place. I grew up in the south-central portion in Austin, Minnesota. Looks like Iowa.

Matthew: I’ve definitely been through there.

Charlie: So it's all farms. My family, if they didn't work in the packing house, they were farmers. You know, labor. The labor union was kind of our church when I was a kid, and it was inspiring, you know?

Matthew: Yeah, I’m sure

Charlie: Music is a huge part of the labor movement. And so my dad and my mother knew those songs backwards and forwards and played records in the house all the time. So I grew up hearing a lot of those voices.

Matthew: That's great.

Charlie: Then moving north, you know, Duluth has its own you know, it's a different set of industries, but it's industry nonetheless. And I found that to be inspiring. I find the lives of folks just working a job and getting along, I find that to be inspiring.

Matthew: Yeah, it definitely shows through your music.

Charlie: So I've never lived anywhere else. I've traveled a lot. I've been, you know, in what, 25 countries and all over the United States. I've never really had the urge to live anywhere else. I love visiting places, but I like living where I live. 

Matthew: That kind of answers one of my next questions. A lot of Minnesota-based musicians play here. And speaking of Austin, Gear Daddies were just here, so we talked a little about Austin with them. Who are some of your favorite Minnesota-based musicians, you know, past or present?

Charlie: Another giant question. So Billy Dankert from the Gear Daddies has been my friend since preschool.

Matthew: Wow.

Charlie: And I'm still friends with him. We've never not been friends.

Matthew: That's really cool.

Charlie: We still play music together on a rare occasion. You know, the Gear Daddies were our hometown heroes, and Austin was a weird place. Because you were either, you know, a gearhead, you were into cars, you were a jock, and you played football, or you were one of these weirdos like me, and music was their thing. Then when I moved to Minneapolis I was a kid, you know, I dropped out of high school. I just moved to Minneapolis, and I was shocked because music was everywhere in the 80s.

Matthew: Yeah. Especially then.

Charlie: Early on, I was downtown and back then the drinking age was younger, so I could be drinking. I was watching a jazz band play downtown at the Fine Line, and at some point Prince walks in and gets on stage and plays. I was flabbergasted. And he's amazing, of course he was incredible. You know every week at that time I would see Spider John Koerner play. I'd see Dave Ray and Tony Glover play. Willie Murphy. I went to see The Replacements. I saw Husker Du all the time. I went deaf seeing Husker Du. You know, a lot of bands that didn't really make it that big, like the Cows. I saw those guys all the time. And muskellunge. I saw music all the time. And I was a permanent fixture on the Gear Daddy guest list. So I saw music almost every night of the week.

Matthew: Playing great music.

Charlie: I was paying $60 a month to live in a rooming house on the West Bank. I could make that busking so I didn't have a job. I didn't need a job. All I did was practice the guitar, go see music, read books, you know, figure out what I could find for free for food, you know, for years. So it was amazing. And as far as a list of, like, musicians that I love, I don't even know where to start. You know, Spider John is probably near the top of the list, but so is Paul Westerberg..

Matthew: So a wide mix. When it comes to songwriting, I mean, obviously you've spent decades writing songs. Do you spend a lot of time sitting down intending to write songs, or is it more that they kind of come organically?

Charlie: Yeah, I let them come organically. I used to try to write songs and I didn't find it to be possible for me.

Matthew: Yeah, I write and I'm not a fan of forcing anything. 

Charlie: I could force myself to write a song, and it's terrible, and I can see it. I can see how I forced it, you know. And then other times, a song will show up and I'll be prepared to receive it, as they say. And I write it down and I think this isn't even me. You know, I think Tom Waits was right. It's a thing that comes, and if you're ready for it and you're able to access it, you can have it. And if you're not, it'll go on and find the next person who's ready for it. I think that's true.

Matthew: I agree.

Charlie: Because that's how it feels to me. So now I just let myself be receptive. And when I feel like, oh, I can tell there's something there. I get ready.

Matthew: Yeah. And take advantage of it then.

Charlie: Exactly.

Matthew: I've seen you perform several times. Always just you as a solo act. I know on your most recent album, you have a pretty good backing band with you. Do you. I mean, I'm sure you've done a lot more of the solo stuff. Do you have a preference, and what shifts when you're playing with a full band as opposed to by yourself?

Charlie: I prefer playing solo. My guitar heroes are all solo guitarists. You know, John and the first generation of recorded guitarists like Charley Patton. You know, these guys, you don't hear him with a band. That's that's the music that I find the most inspiring to what I do. So that's what I like to do, but that being said you know, playing with people who are like, sympathetic is a really unique experience that I love. Creating music with someone else is about as close as you're going to get to being intimate with them. It is an intimate relationship

Matthew: It’s a serious connection.

Charlie: It's a serious connection if you're both in that same place, and if you're not, it won't work. You can't do it. And I love that feeling. I don't really seek it out much because I really love just being able to drive my car, you know, and do whatever I want.  You know maybe the guitar is not really in tune, but it doesn't matter because I'm by myself

Matthew: So there's a reason Codfish has so many returning artists and obviously the kind of music you make, and what inspires you, I think is perfect for a place like this. What was your first, reaction when you first played here, and what makes it stand out from other places other than it just being a barn?

Charlie: I’ve played in so many barns. I love playing in places like this, and when I first came here, I felt immediately comfortable. I have played in a lot of barns, but I think music, and probably art in general, is kind of at its best when it's in a space like this that is already an art piece very much already This wasn't created to do this.

Matthew: No, not at all. You know, they were pretty reluctant to do it at the start from what I heard too.

Charlie: So it's being repurposed, but it's already a piece of art, you know, and a lot of places, like new places that I play, they don't feel like that. They feel like, okay, this was created specifically for us to do this in. It’s like a very clean container, and the art is fine because the art is the focus and the clean container doesn't infect it. But I miss playing in a place like this where you get infected with the container, and I like that feeling because that adds to what I'm doing. I play differently when I play in places like this

Matthew:  I would imagine so. I think the crowds respond differently in a place like this too.

Charlie: I think so, and it's a good difference.

Matthew: Very much so. Obviously you do more guitar than any other instrument. But you also play banjo. Do you lean more towards a guitar? And when you do the banjo, is it more because you feel a song calls for it?

Charlie: Well, I don't play banjo anymore. In 2009 I was diagnosed with focal dystonia, which is a brain disorder that effectively stopped me from using my right hand until eventually the doctor said, stop playing the guitar…and I can't. So I was able to relearn how to play the guitar. Banjo never came back.

Matthew: Okay. Yeah.

Charlie: The banjo is a totally different thing. Definitely, and holding my hand, even holding my hand in the way that I would hold it to play the banjo is painful. So I miss playing the banjo. I kept it for a long time thinking that someday it'll come back and I'll pick it up, but it broke my heart. You know, it hurt. And so finally, I met this young woman who's a freight train hopper. She had jumped off a train and broke her banjo in half. So I gave her mine, and I thought that was right. 

Matthew: That’s a great continuation of an instrument.

Charlie: So I kind of doubled down on the guitar, and now that I'm comfortable with the way I can play, it's good, and I don't think too much about those other times.

Matthew: Yeah. That's really good. Okay. This might be a hard one too. What's the best piece of advice you've ever gotten from another musician, or that you would give to an aspiring musician?

Charlie: I think the best piece, and I didn't get this advice specifically. Sonny Rollins said this. Keep your karma clean. I think that's good advice for everybody.

Matthew: Oh, yeah.

Charlie: But I think about it in this world, you know, where like, if I'm on tour and I'm out for, if I'm in Europe, I'm in Europe for six weeks or in Australia for two months at a time, you know, it's a big chunk of time and you're just like one place, the next place, the next place, the next place. You never stop. And so if you if you start to kind of act badly in the midst of that, you'll feel it a hundredfold.

Matthew: Oh, yeah.

Charlie: Being mindful, and kind of treating every moment with gratitude is extremely important to me. So a lot of young musicians I talk to I always tell them that. Do your best, but be grateful every day. Be grateful and start with the simple things. You know, when you wake up and you draw that big breath, that's your first point of gratitude. You can play your instrument even if you don't have a gig. You can play an instrument that is another one, you know. Just do that. Sink into this idea of being grateful for stuff. And it goes a long, long way.

Matthew: Especially with the simple things, because those are the ones that are going to come back every day.

Charlie: The most important ones. You know, you take your breath for granted, but when you stop breathing you notice.

Matthew: What are you passionate about outside of the world of music?

Charlie: Well, a lot of stuff. I'm a big reader. I love art. My partner and I collect art especially folk art. Yeah. Love folk art. Bill Traylor is my guy. 

Matthew: I don’t think I'm familiar with him.

Charlie: Bill Traylor. So in the 30s maybe Bill Traylor was homeless in Birmingham, Alabama. And he'd go through the garbage and he'd find  shirt cardboards. Shirts used to come with a cardboard.

Matthew: Okay. Yeah, yeah.

Charlie: He would take those out of the garbage and he'd draw on them.

Matthew: Interesting. That would be his canvas.

Charlie: Yeah. And then, of course, he would just throw them away because, you know he was homeless at the time. They also thought he probably had mental health issues. Those drawings are absolutely stunning. They’re simple and they're not. To me, they epitomize folk art.

Matthew: It sounds like they would.

Charlie: They're amazing. So eventually, some guy who like, walks to work every day and sees this guy started grabbing those out of the garbage. And he would start collecting shirt cardboards and give them to Bill, and sometimes he would bring him art supplies. They became friends, and he amassed this massive collection of Bill's work. Bill dies, and this guy has all this stuff and just kind of forgets about it. Well, eventually, he realizes what he has and starts telling the world about Bill Traylor. At the Intuit Gallery in Chicago they have original shirt cardboards from Bill Traylor.

Matthew: That's really cool.

Charlie: I go there every once in a while just to look. You know, if you like art, you see the actual thing.

Matthew: Yeah, it's a totally different experience.

Charlie: It is. It's like I didn't expect that. I'm like, my God it kind of hurts, you know? I got a print of one of these cardboards and I have it framed on my wall. It's my favorite one. It's this giant dog with this little tiny guy wearing a top hat with a leash attached to this giant dog.

Matthew:  Nice.

Charlie: Yeah I love that. You know, I have kids. I'm very invested in their lives. 

Matthew: Of course

Charlie: I've got a dog that I love. My partner and I do a lot of stuff together, you know? We bought a house together, so we do some gardening. And I just I like being outside. I like going for walks.

Matthew: Is this the same dog that inspired the music a couple of records ago.

Charlie: No, this is a different one. This one is only two years old. But yeah, I kind of want to be passionate about life in general.

Matthew: Yeah.

Charlie: You know I don't do a lot of internetting.

Matthew: I'm sure that helps.

Charlie: I have a manager, which is bittersweet. I love him, and he's kind of saved my career because I don't pay attention. And he does all the internetting. So I don't look at social media I don't really pay attention. I don't have a television. I read a lot of books.

Matthew: I’m sure that's really good for the mental health to detach a little bit from it.

Charlie: I have severe anxiety disorder and clinical depression.

Matthew: I can fully relate to that.

Charlie: I do DBT religiously and I'm not religious, but about that I am about. I do a lot of mindfulness exercises, and I do walking meditation every day because I can't sit and meditate. It doesn't work.

Matthew: Yeah, I've tried too. It doesn't work.

Charlie: Walking meditation. You know, Nan Han wrote this beautiful little piece on walking meditation and taught me a ton. And I do that every day. And then my guitar practices are like three parts, you know, the learning part, the practicing part, and then the meditative part. So, all that stuff is important. 

Matthew: That's great. All right, last question. I know that you released the album Little Sun last year. Have you been working on anything new or do you have anything planned moving forward?

Charlie: Lots of stuff. I feel really nice right now. The new record is done. I just I haven't recorded it yet, but the writing part is done, and it's going really well. Then I'm working on another book, but this probably won't be stories. I think it's going to end up being, like, a long piece. The way it's going so far, I've got it all outlined and I'm like, this is longer than everything else so far because I like writing short stories. But this is a lot longer than that, so we'll see where it goes. I'm doing that, a,nd then, you know, I'm booked halfway through the next year.

Matthew: Oh, great.

Charlie: Including a six week run through Europe again. So I've got work coming up. I feel pretty creative in my mind. 

Matthew: That's great, and after doing it for so long I'm sure there's lulls where it's tough to find that.

Charlie: Yeah, but even then, I know enough to just let it go and it'll show up, and if it doesn't show up, it's not supposed to show up. I don't want to make stuff that I'm not happy or proud of. So I'm not forcing it. I've got a lot to do. I'm a senior citizen I'm content with my life. I'm satisfied, you know. And if I can't create anything else, I'm perfectly happy to go for walks and mow the grass or, you know, sit and poke at the guitar. It's all good.

Matthew: Yeah, definitely. That’s awesome. Like you said, it's all stuff to be grateful for.

Charlie: Yeah. And, you know, when I get older I'd like to learn how to paint pictures like Bill Traylor. 

Matthew: Well, yeah, that's all I had. But that was great. I really appreciate it.

Charlie: Well thank you I appreciate that. 

Codfish Conversations #8: Gear Daddies

It’s become a common saying among the volunteers and “regulars” at Codfish Hollow that you should come out to a show, even if you aren’t familiar with the band. Last year, when The Gear Daddies made the debut at the barn, I was in that exact situation, attending a sold-out show with a band that was new to me, although they are veterans of a Minneapolis scene full of heavy-hitters. I mean, they don’t just put your name on a star outside First Avenue if you haven’t proven yourself as a musician. When I heard they were returning this season, the name was no longer new to me, and I knew it was again going to be a show with a packed-in crowd, boisterous in the best sense of the word. It’s impressive to see a band with 4 decades of experience where all 4 original members are still sharing the stage together. Sitting down with all four members made for an enjoyable interview, in spite of it being conducted in a rather ridiculous location backstage. Unfortunately, the interview was conducted while opening band, Box 10, was already on stage, and since there wasn’t a good space to fully escape the sound of them performing, the audio isn’t top notch, but I have chosen to include it, at least for now. It was difficult and time-consuming simply transcribing the interview below from the recording, and I originally was going to leave it off of this, but after listening back, while it could seem too raw, I believe it captures the energy of Codfish, so I’m going to lean into it.

Matthew: Okay, so just with an introduction for people that aren't familiar. Who are you guys? How long have you been playing together? And where do you call home?

Martin: Well, we're The Gear Daddies. Been playing for 40 years

Nick: With the same four guys. 

Matthew: That's impressive. 

Martin: And Nick and I have been playing together for 47 years.

Matthew: And you guys are from the Minneapolis area?

Martin: We're all from Austin, Minnesota, but we all settled in the Twin Cities.

Nick: Martin lives in Mexico now. 

Randy: I’ve been to Mexico!

Billy: I’ve been to Martin’s House!

Matthew: Oh, nice. What originally got you guys into music? Like was there any other option?

Nick: Chicks!

Martin: We all came to it different ways

Billy: I just listened to music and wanted to play the drums.

Martin: And Randy basically still isn't a musician. He just kind of hangs out. So I was just listening to this podcast called The History of Rock in 500 songs, and the guy was talking about the phenomenon that it was well known that if you interviewed any of the Beatles individually, you got a really great, thoughtful interview. And anytime you put all the Beatles together, you got the worst, like shit, so this is the exact same thing. We kind of speak a different language. 

Matthew: With my photography, I've done a lot of stuff in Minneapolis and in that area, like more something than Iowa, so I think it's a kind of a slept on area, as far as, like, art and what inspires you about that area, what motivated you about that area growing up 

Nick It was progressive.

Billy: It was like the closest big city,

Martin: We all landed there in Minneapolis. It was about the best time you could have been in the Twin Cities. Late 80s, early 90s. The music scene was just crazy, and we kind of rode the coattails of a really cool scene.

Matthew: There's actually a lot of Minnesota bands that come through Codfish. Are there any Minnesota bands that really stand out for you guys, maybe that you grew up playing with? 

Nick: Jayhawks.

Matthew: Yeah they were just here recently

Nick: Bob Mould was just here

Martin: Bob Mould was here???

Matthew: Yeah that was an amazing show.

Martin: So we toured with Bob. 

Billy: And of course love Huker Du

Martin: The Replacements. Soul Asylum

Billy: Run, Rusty, Run I think they should be named. Even though they weren’t as big as those other bands.

Martin: They were my favorite band of that era, and they are still great

Randy: The Suburbs

Matthew: Okay, this is kind of a dumb question, but one of your guys' most popular songs appeared in a couple movies that I grew up watching. After that song did you guys get requests to ride on Zambonis?

Nick: All the time.

Martin: I've got many, many requests, and I have yet to do it. I have no interest in doing it. I It’s just a song. God, I don't know, but I think I wrote it as one of our inside jokes. Like these guys would think it was funny… they didn't. It just kind of caught on as a little inside joke with our fans, and it was never meant to be on an album.

Randy: I remember you just brought that song in and we recorded it right away. And then we slapped it on the end of the album without naming it.

Martin: Yeah, well, that was because Bob, Polygram wanted it on the album, album. And I was like, No, it's not gonna be on the album, album. So that was kind of the compromise that it was a hidden track.

Matthew: When it comes to songwriting. Do you guys spend, I mean, obviously, with that one, it seems like it kind of just came together. Do you spend a lot of time sitting down and coming up with songs, or does it kind of come organically?

Nick: The writers write them on their own and just kind of bring them to the band, and we work through them a little bit, but for the most part, they have it figured out. That’s Martin and Billy

Martin: I don’t know about you some of my songs happen in under an hour. And some, like one of the songs off the last album, goes back to high school. A big piece of what ended up being a song was something I wrote in high school and brought back and resurrected

Billy: I have something similar when I do solo stuff. I had a song that I finished in 2015, and the chorus was from like 1989 and it had just been sitting around and I didn’t know what to do with it.

Martin: Yeah, it's like, for me, some songs end up being almost forensic, like I go through old lyrics and I'm like, Hey, that one's not bad. I forgot about that one, and then build it out and build out a song.

Billy: I have like 200 notes on my phone, musical notes and maybe 3 have become songs. 

Martin: Yeah, mine are all still on well, my lyrics are all on paper. Stacks of paper. I used to carry the dictaphone, but I had to keep it on my bedstand, because I get an idea that I'm sure was brilliant and had to be right there, and had to get it. And I'd love to put out a compilation of some of those ideas that I thought were like, brilliant in the middle of the night and jumped up and got it on there. It's like, Oh, Jesus!

Matthew: Since I've never spoken to an artist that has gotten a star on the wall, and what's it like getting that honor to have a star at First Avenue?

Billy: It’s awesome.

Martin: It’s really cool.

Matthew: How far into your career did that happen? 

Nick: 1992…91. We were on it in the first making of it, and it’s been there ever since.

Matthew: That’s really cool. What's the best piece of advice you've ever received from another musician or that you would give to an up and coming musician?

Billy: As a drummer? I actually had, it was specific to me, but it would be good advice, I guess, for any drummer. Let the singer sing. I used to be wailing on the drums when I was young. I was given that advice and it really changed things

Nick: My advice is play a simple part well, rather than play a hard part not well.

Matthew: That’s good advice for art in general

Randy: And from my perspective, with pedal steel especially, it's just to enhance the vocalist. You try not to step on the toes 

Martin: For me, I’d just say stay away from this god-forsaken business

Nick: It’s a disease!

Martin: Feed your family!

Matthew: Are there any bands or musicians, you’ve been listening to that might be surprising to people, that that's what you're into?

Martin: I don't know about you guys, but if you put my iPhone  on shuffle, people would be like, What the fuck? It's confusing. Because I seriously love bubble gum. I love Taylor Swift. I love Miley Cyrus. I love Jason Isbell and Leonard Cohen. I love I mean, honestly it’s so all over the place. 

Billy: Honestly Randy and Renee just got in my car and I had Sade on. And they said they didn’t picture me as a Sade guy. She is great. 

Randy: I made Billy play the song twice. (Mimics “Smooth Operator”)

Martin: Oh No! I always say there's no good or bad music. It’s music you like, or music you don’t like. Period. That's music I don't like. 

Randy: You don’t like that song? This swore I heard you humming it.

Matthew: The last one, there's a reason that so many returning artists come back to codfish. What was your first impression of it, and makes it stand out so much from other venues?

Nick: I mean look at it…well I mean I know people listening can’t see it.

Billy: It’s surprising how far out in the sticks it is. You’re in all these corn fields, and then there’s just this amazing concert venue. 

Martin: It’s just a different energy here. The people are so fantastic.

Billy: It’s really a labor of love.

Martin: They treat the artists so respectfully.

Billy: It kind of goes back to the old hippy days. 

Martin: It’s a gem. It really is. A secret little gem…well not so secret anymore. It’s getting out there.  Even last year, when we tell people we’re doing it and they were like, What is that? And between last year and this year, a lot more people were aware of it. 

Billy: Yeah I tell people about it all the time.

Martin: Well we played here, and then all of the sudden it just exploded. Everyone wanted to play here

Nick: Yeah, it’s because of us.

Matthew: Oh Yeah, that’s what I’ve been hearing from all the bands

Martin: We put this place on the map. They owe us.

Nick: Kidding by the way.

Matthew: That's all my questions. So I appreciate you guys doing this. It means a lot.

All: Thank you

Codfish Conversations #7 Adam Turla - Murder By Death

When the shows for the 2025 Codfish season started getting announced I was thrilled to see Murder By Death on that list, however this year’s show announcement was a bit more bittersweet than the past 2 shows they’ve played here as it was going to be a stop on their farewell tour. After over two decades as a band, Murder By Death was finally calling it quits. While they played their first show in 2000, it wasn’t until 2005 when the song, “Until Morale Improves, The Beatings Will Continue” showed up on the third installment of Atticus’ Dragging The Lake compilation that I would be aware of this Indiana group. The song was released a few years prior on the band’s second full-length album, Who Will Survive and What Will Be Left of Them, which was released by Eyeball Records, an indie label partly owned by Geoff Rickley of Thursday, that has put out some of my favorite post-hardcore/mathcore albums of the early-late 2000’s. It’s also incredibly fitting that this song, which first exposed me to Murder By Death, also featured Iowa native William Elliott Whitmore, who was the first musician I interviewed for these Codfish Conversations in May. 

I first saw Murder By Death in Iowa City, at a building that was temporarily known as The Picador, but is best known as Gabe’s. This venue was a catalyst of sorts for myself, the space where I saw my first punk show with a touring band on my 16th birthday, and a venue I still get excited to revisit. That late night, well over a decade removed from the present, saw the “spooky western” sounds of Murder By Death chased with shots of whiskey, and while the final show didn’t feature the burn of bourbon, at least for this barn attendee, the late-July heat provided more than enough warmth for the Codfish crowd to say goodbye to these Midwestern musicians. Though, thanks to the Q&A segment prior to their performance, I have it on good authority that they will be making yet another return to the Hollow in the coming years. 

The night came to a close with the final note of “Alas”, while Adam Turla crooned out the final line, “Alas I must go”, and with a final bow, the houselights kicked on, and the barn began to empty out. The crowd once again began to converse with one another as they made their way beyond the bubble machines still kicking out their soapy celebrations into the star-laden sky. Yet before this final bow, before the first note of the night in fact, Adam Turla sat down with me to discuss everything from his cinematic approach to songwriting to 90’s sensation, Björk. 

(The beginning of this is a bit different than the past interviews, as my phone decided not to record the first two questions, which were then somewhat-briefly revisited to make sure we still got the necessary information recorded. Thanks to Adam for agreeing to this interview, fitting it in before the band answered even more questions from the crowd, and working with the little hiccup at the beginning.  This is all a learning process, but it’s been great getting to connect with some artists I have long enjoyed in this way.)

Matthew: Let’s start off with an introduction, which seems odd on a farewell tour,  but not all listeners are familiar. Who you are? How long have you been playing, and where do you call home? 

Adam: Well, I'll just go back. So I live in Louisville. My name is Adam. I sing and play guitar. Started the band…I started making music with one of the members in late ‘99, and then we played our first show in April 2000 and that was in Bloomington, Indiana. 

Matthew: As a professional artist myself, I understand that sometimes the answer is simply that there was no other choice, but why did you become a musician? What or who originally got you interested in music?

Adam: I started playing, because my buddy started playing guitar, and I got a $20 garage sale guitar that I started learning on, and we would just play, like, Nirvana songs and just try to figure out how to make it work, yeah. And then I started this band four and a half years later when I was 18. 

Matthew: Okay, awesome. Like we said, doing it your whole adult life up to this point, yeah. So How would you describe the sound you make? 

Adam:  So when somebody asks, it's usually in some sort of, like, at the bank, or, like, you know, some situation where somebody is like, what is this? It’s like, it's a rock band. And I always say something like, it's not as scary as it sounds, right? Well, what kind of music is it? And you have to say something. And so years ago, I settled on, I say spooky Western. I think it's like, it's not what I set out to do, but it at least evokes something that is close enough to what not all, but a lot of our songs are. 

Matthew: Yeah, I've definitely described you guys as, like, Gothic Western

Adam: If it's somebody who's, like, my age or younger, I usually just say indie, because that's like, when we started, we're whatever, we're an indie band. We were scene kids, when we were teenagers, like, we were very in the indie scene but now indie music hasn't existed since basically the internet. So it's like, it's just not the same, like, the culture of the scene is kind of gone. When Spotify exists, it's just not the same. It's used now to describe, a style, an affectation. Not a DIY lifestyle. So now I don't say it as much, but the funny thing is that we're actually like, musically and philosophically in the way we operate, we actually are a very indie band, DIY, or whatever. Which is funny, because, I did not think that we were such an outlier when we started, but we just kind of, there's just not many people doing it the way we do it. 

Murder By Death at 80/35 in 2019

Matthew: Where do you find inspiration for your music? Has that inspiration changed as you’ve grown?

Adam: Movie and literature have always played a really big part in the way that I think about songs, because the way that I write songs is that I try to set scenes and have the music and the lyrics express what you would have expressed through different devices, you know, whether it was like painting or, you know, a movie. And so, when we're working on a song, I'll talk with the group, and I'll be like, this is the mood. These are like keywords. This is what we're trying to evoke. This is what I'm trying to communicate…like a storyboard. And so we think of things, I think a little differently when we write too, because we have such a cinematic approach to the songs. When I started hearing people, maybe, like, 20 years ago, say, “The Hook” a lot, I was just like, kill me. The idea of writing a song to write a hook, it's just such a consumer, capitalist way to think about making something, and you should be making a song because you were inspired, you had an idea that you wanted to try to flesh out, and you want to communicate it. But I think it just shows that when people say that, I immediately distrust them as a creator. Because your goals are very different….I was about to say I don't judge them, but it sounds like I'm judging them, and maybe I am a little bit. I don't think that people shouldn't be able to make music like that, but I do think that there is a distinction… I think you're going to end up with very different results depending on the reasons and the way that you craft your art. And every once in a while, though somebody's good at like, all of it. I mean, we played First Avenue last night, and it's like, well, Prince could both be an artist and craft a pop song, so it's like, if you're really on that level, good for you, right? If you can be both. David Bowie is an example. It's like, well, but some people got it all

Matthew: Yeah, lucky them

Adam: And us, for getting to listen

Matthew: This certainly isn’t your first time here, and there’s a reason so many people return. What keeps you returning here and helps it stand out from other venues, beyond the obvious fact that it’s a barn?

Adam:  It's the heart. You know, we were just talking about this. So today is the last day of a five week tour. We're going home tomorrow. We'll leave early in the morning and drive home and I don't book, but I plan the tours. So I decide where we're playing, you know what the route is, and everything. I wanted to end this leg here because I knew that we were going to be really tired, we were pretty tired going up on stage last night. We're right at the end, but not quite done. I knew that this would give everybody a boost, because we love it, and the vibe in there's fun, the audience is fun. Everybody hosting and working is here to have a good time. Sarah and I go to the drive-in a lot when we're home. We love the drive-ins

Matthew: Yeah there’s one about 5 miles from here.

Adam: And this has drive-in vibes, like, in the sense that, it's not about the money, it's about the community, and the spirit of it.

Matthew: Yeah, the passion for what you're doing, 

Adam: Yeah. And so, you know, I think that it's just got heart. I think those are the things that, especially in our highly commercial and awful times that we live in, I think that anything with heart or earnestness, that's just putting yourself out there, I'm like, preserve that.

Adam Turla at Codfish Hollow 2025

Matthew: So obviously, after two decades, I'm sure this wasn't easy bringing this to a close, Had this been a long-time decision, and does a tour feel different? I mean, obviously…How does the tour feel different? 

Adam:  We decided during the pandemic that we needed to have a plan, because it just really caught us with our pants down. And, you know, there's no protections for artists in this country. We couldn't get unemployment, even though our business generates millions and millions of dollars of sales tax, tax credit money, you know, the restaurants and the hotels near the venues, all the ticketing fees, it's millions of dollars. And like, that is not acknowledged in any way as employment. Us and all musicians are driving economies in a large way and supporting the infrastructure around the venues, the idea that, I couldn't get unemployment was such a slap in the face. I remember thinking we're just like, suddenly in debt, because if we had to go home from the tour.

Matthew: Were you guys in the middle of touring when it happened?

Adam: We were out in the middle of the biggest tour we'd ever been on, and it was just fucked. And so, short version is we said, you know what, I think it's time to re-examine. So we decided to just do less shows every year, but then in 2025 to do a farewell knowing that things could possibly change. You know, it's like we're not independently wealthy, we needed it to go right. But this year has been going great, and the tour's so good that Sarah and I are joking, like, man, if it was this good every night, like, every night has been outstanding. If it was this good all the time it might be easier, because we've been able to have more help on this tour. Like, we've got an extra vehicle, extra people out. It's just easier than it's been. I mean, we still all got sick, and like, you know, we're run down, and yeah, we're not home. We keep laughing, we're like, it's a trick because it's so good. We know it's a trick because it's only this good because we're saying goodbye. So we know that, but the truth is that we are continuing to do our cave shows every year (in Pelham, TN), which is an annual meetup we do. And so we're gonna do that one weekend every year as a meet up for a way that we can hang out together, make some art, and entertain some people.

Murder By Death answering questions during a Q&A at Codfish Hollow

Matthew: Going more into the farewell tour. Has there been more time put into constructing the set list every night? Are you getting into more deep cuts that you normally haven't played? 

It's a mixture. Because, that's my job, and it was brutal trying to craft the set, because it's a 25-year career. Probably like 150 original songs at least. And I kept going back and forth, but what I decided to do is when we announced the tour, I just looked at all the posts, and anytime someone was, like, play this song here, I made a note, and then I just tried to, take that into account, and, all the requests, I actually, notated them. I certainly am not doing them all. And there are songs that we just can't do anymore because it's just not the right like, no one, is asking for it but this one person. So you're giving up another song that 20 people asked for, but there are a couple of times where I was like, Okay, we'll do this one, just to do it. We’ve played a lot of different tunes. Some are deeper cuts. There are the obvious ones that, like you, just got to play. You start to realize, man, they really want to hear that song every night. It's an honor. Even though we play this one all the time, it's still an honor for people to want it.

Matthew: What's the best piece of advice you've ever received from another musician or that you would give to any up-and-coming musicians?

Adam: I mean, the advice that I would give is easier, which is that I tell people, there's a culture of being like, too cool to talk about the money in this industry, and I am of the opposite philosophy. Because musicians are chronically taken advantage of. So I tell people, suck it up, learn how to run a business. Learn how to run your business. Figure out what matters to you and what your ethics and values are, and run your business the way that you expect other businesses you might support to run them. If you understand what your most popular shirt is, then you'll know to keep that one in stock. And if you understand what your expectations are per show, then you know you won't be disappointed. I go into every night knowing what the fuck is happening, and it helps me set expectations and also set goals. It helps me set goals for my bandmates. Because if you're a leader, if you're the person who's in charge, you have obligations to your people you work with, that work for you, or with you, and so in order to do a good job, you just have to learn how to run the business, because otherwise it's gonna get frittered away, because it's very easy, because everybody's taking a cut before the band gets paid.

Matthew: Are there any bands or musicians you've been listening to that you think would surprise people or that you think people should know more about?

Adam: I have not listened to any music on this tour because we just hear in the venues it all the time. One of the musicians that I listen to a lot that sometimes surprises people is I love Bjork. That's one that’s a big inspiration. Often when I'm writing I’m thinking about how she writes. So I don't use it all the time, but it's worked its way lyrically or melodically into the music. So that's probably the best answer. 

Matthew: Okay. And then finally, I know you kind of mentioned that there'll still be the yearly shows. Are there any other plans for music

Adam:  No, the goal is to not have any plans like that, but if I have time, then that'll be great. The goal is to not have every minute of my life mapped out infinitely.

Matthew: After 25 years I’m sure that’s like a vacation almost.

Adam: Yeah. I've always known what the next thing is. Like the longest period there's ever been until the next completely life encompassing thing is three months. And you would get home from a thing and you'd have three months off, but you know that 90 days later you're fucked. Whatever normalcy you achieved in those three months is disrupted again. 

Matthew: Yeah it's enough to get you back into a groove. 

Adam: Yeah so you got to learn to live with the whole change and be flexible, but also, you know that's not a long time, 90 days, and to have never had something else, it’s kind of wild. So I'm looking forward to the new experience. 

Matthew: All right. Awesom3 Well, that's all I had, but I appreciate you again doing this. 

Adam: Yeah, no problem. Good questions. 

Matthew: Thank you.

Codfish Conversations #6 Jeni Grouws from The Avey Grouws Band

Growing up, for the majority of my life, within the confines of the Quad Cities, I’ve seen several acts, including many friends, take their passion to bigger stages from coast to coast. As an artist that continues to showcase work outside of this area, I know the excitement that comes from not only experiencing this directly, but also seeing other skilled and passionate people take their expression beyond what they originally perceived. I was taught during the early years of my endeavor into the world of art that you mustn’t view the accomplishments of others as taking away from what you’ve accomplished, or still are hoping to accomplish. Not only is there plenty of space for all of us to breathe, but you’d be foolish to think that this world could use less creative expression. Now I won’t pretend as though this section of “fly-over” country is commonly seen as a beacon of art, in any capacity, and I know over 2 decades now, my relationship with the scene has ebbed and flowed, but when you take an outsider's view, you begin to appreciate it a little more.

I have seen street punks get record deals from their idols, friends in hardcore bands tour across Europe, and now have heard tales of Buddy Guy choosing to share the stage for nearly half an hour with a Roots Rock band, all three from the same cluster of cities, straddling the shores where the Mississippi turns momentarily West. While gracing the stage at Codfish isn’t quite as comparable as the three aforementioned situations, it has still come to be a sort of rites of passage for local musicians. Nearly every local band I’ve interviewed has put the barn at the top of their list of stages they hope to stand on one day, and while I have seen quite a few local acts open shows in the Hollow, it was surprising when shows were getting announced to find out that Avey Grouws would be making their debut at the barn this season. It’d be tough to be involved at all in the local scene without being familiar with this group, but near impossible to not have crossed paths with at least one member. They have been involved with some of the biggest acts in the QC as well as providing hands-on support and guidance for new and aspiring musicians. 

While the weather provided a blistering setting for their first performance, Avey Grouws matched that intensity, engaging the crowd in ways I wish all openers I see could do. Though that also speaks for the crowds that convene in this eastern-Iowa barn, and just how long people have been waiting for Avey Grouws to share their sounds from the Codfish stage. While the weather delayed my arrival at the barn, and I wasn’t able to do this interview in-person, Jeni Grouws was gracious enough to record her responses to my questions, and yet again I am happily surprised by, and thankful for, the time and effort others put in to help me make these Codfish Conversations happen.

Matthew: Let’s start off with an introduction for those who aren’t familiar. Who you are, how long have you been playing, and where do you call home?

Jeni: Oh, hey, so I decided to record the answers because it's crazy sometimes trying to type while I'm riding here in the van. But yeah. So the Avey Grouws band has been together since January 2017 and most everybody in the band is from the Quad Cities, on the Iowa side. I have been living in Decorah, Iowa, up in northeast Iowa, for the last 20 years, and I'm currently doing a residency for songwriting at the Music House in Omaha, Nebraska. So I've been there since September.

I'm Jeni Grouws. Chris Avey is lead guitar and does some vocals. Randy Leasman is on the bass, and Bryan West is on the drums. 

Matthew: As a professional artist myself, I understand that sometimes the answer is simply that there was no other choice, but why did you become a musician? What or who originally got you interested in music?

Jeni: How did we become musicians? Well, obviously that answer will be very different for each and every one of us. Most of the guys have been playing professionally. In fact, probably all of them since they were in their late teens or early 20s. I think it's something that they were all just called to do from the beginning. And I would say the same goes for me. Since I was five years old, I knew I wanted to sing and perform and write. I just didn't necessarily find it the most responsible career, or at least that's what I had been told. So I didn't do it for many, many years. I waited a very long time to make it my professional career, but it was worth the wait. It just took a really long time for me to get there. But I think, you know, when it's deep inside you, it's kind of hard to ignore, and eventually it's got to come out somewhere. And eventually it did for me.

Matthew: I've spoken to several QC bands and it seems like Codfish tops every list of places to play. I'm surprised this is your first time playing, but what makes this place so special from a performer's stand point? 

Jeni: As far as Codfish Hollow goes, it is absolutely a venue artists want to play, especially Iowa artists, because we hear about it, we see it, we go to concerts there. It was our first time playing there. And while I'm not entirely certain why, it was really cool after our performance with JD McPherson to have Tiff come up and say, “Oh my gosh. I can't believe it took us this long to get you here. We will definitely have you back.” So that meant a lot, and honestly, maybe it made it even more special, because we got to wait so long to finally make our debut at Codfish. But um, gosh. Why is it so special? I think because there is a feeling and a vibe at Codfish that you can't or it's very rare, I should say, to find anywhere else. I mean, it's from the owners, through the volunteers. Everybody that's a part of Codfish is dedicated to the music and to the people that provide the music and to the people that support the music. It's all about the music. And I think it's hard. It sounds like it shouldn't be hard to find, but it is hard to find these days because finances are a real thing. They get in the way, and people start thinking toward the dollar rather than toward the music. And I think it's been really cool to see what Codfish Hollow does with their artists. From an artist's perspective, I mean, we were treated like kings and a queen. It was pretty cool, but it goes beyond that. It's the respect and the excitement, the enthusiasm, the encouragement that everyone that's at Codfish Hollow brings to the day and to the artists that are there. So I just have to say thank you. And I know everybody in the band would say the same thing. It was magical. I literally can't wait to get back.

Matthew: The blues have a long history in the QC. Did that make it a natural choice when you were finding your own sound? Did you ever play in groups outside of the world of blues/blues rock?  

Jeni: Yeah, the Quad Cities does have a long history of the blues, you know, being right on the Mississippi River that music was taken up and down that river for decades and decades and decades, and it was brought from the South, obviously, where the blues was born. And I think it's natural that those sounds, and those stylings, and those feelings really made an impression on the folks that heard it as it came further North, and then it started to blend. It started to blend in with all of the other forms of American music. And so you have people, I mean, we're a bunch of Midwesterners playing blues rock, and I get that it can be maybe a little unexpected, but we actually have tended to call ourselves roots rock because we want to be very respectful of the natural history of the blues, the origins of the blues. It's not originally ours. It's just something we admire and respect and take as inspiration for the music that we make now as a roots rock band. We are clearly very heavily blues-influenced, but you'll also hear rock. You'll also hear country, which is sort of what I grew up listening to. You'll hear soul. You'll hear funk. There's a little bit of all of those sounds in what we put together. I mean, it's a natural progression for us as a band to take all of our backgrounds and pull them together and make music that is us. It is Avey Grouws band, but it is definitely informed by the music that came before. And the Quad Cities has just been a really cool petri dish of different sounds of music that have come up and down the Mississippi River over the years.

Matthew: You all have serious roots locally, being in different bands and/or helping teach the youth locally, so I think you have a good grasp on the scene. What do you feel are the strengths of this scene? Do you think it's in a better spot than it was when you were younger?

Jeni: You know, I might have a different perspective on it, because I did not grow up in the Quad Cities. I didn't even step foot into the Quad Cities music scene until 2015 when I went to a blues jam, because I was in the Quad Cities to speak at Augustana, excuse me, St Ambrose College, and I was supposed to talk about radio. I got there, and the night before, I was at a hotel, and I thought, well, there's got to be music somewhere. I hear the Quad Cities has good music, and I found a blues jam, and I jumped in, and that's when I met all of the guys in the band. So it was a very lucky moment for me, fortuitous, I think, for all of us, maybe, but that's kind of an indicator of what the music scene is like in the Quad Cities. You know, the guys can tell you what it was like when they were younger. I don't know, because I didn't grow up there, but I do hear, I hear people, you know, talking bad about their own scene. But honestly, I think that's pretty natural. I think people are highly critical of the scene within which, you know, they're enmeshed every single day. So people will talk about the scene in Nashville, they'll talk about the scene in Los Angeles. You know, we're in the Quad Cities, and I think the folks that grew up there are annoyed by some things and they know the institutional knowledge of the town and the scene. So it's maybe easy to get annoyed with…whatever. I do think it's pretty natural. But also, as an outsider to the Quad Cities music scene, I have to say that I think it's a pretty spectacular and thriving scene. I think there's so much music happening on any given night. There is so much encouragement for young people to be a part of music. There is so much enthusiasm for the new sounds and textures and emotions that different artists bring to the stage. Whether it's a cover band or an original music band, it's really exciting to be maybe a slight outsider on the music scene and to see all the things happening. And yes, people can complain if they like. In fact, I think when you're in the middle of something, it's good to have complaints. It's what helps grow something stronger and better, right? But I think as an outsider, I would say the Quad Cities folks are pretty lucky.

Matthew: Where do you draw inspiration from, both musically and outside of the world or music?  Has that inspiration changed as you’ve grown, both personally and musically?

Jeni: I know when I'm writing a song, the world around me is a natural part of what I'm writing about. It might be something that is directly related to me, or something that I'm seeing happen in the world, or to people that I love. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's heartbreaking. I guess for me, the idea of art in general is to move, inspire, teach, heal, question, all of those things. It can be pretty, and when it's pretty, it's such a beautiful thing. But it isn't always pretty. Life isn't always pretty. Therefore, music isn't always pretty. It's an opportunity for me, as a songwriter, anyway, to be able to speak on the things that are sitting in my heart or in my mind….You asked if it's changed for me. Although the world has changed, I've grown. I'm an older person than I was when I wrote my first song. I'm a different person than I was when I wrote my first song. So absolutely, and you know, any songwriter will tell you that it's a healing thing to be able to write those feelings that sit inside. So as someone who has gone through breakups, divorce, love, new love. That's just on a personal level, and then looking at children and seeing them grow and become their own beings, their own people, that kind of just makes you sit in awe of what they're doing and accomplishing., to looking at the world, and seeing the beauty in it, and then seeing the pain and the sorrow and the heartbreak in it. It's all of that that ends up in the music, and I hate to say that we have a duty, but we kind of do. For those of us that are creatives, it doesn't have to be something that we put onto an album. It doesn't, but we do have a duty to use our talents, our inspirations, to write what we see about the world around us. So yeah, I feel pretty lucky to be a songwriter, honestly, and I think you'll hear that in our music when we come together, and I'm speaking mostly lyrically. But of course, what the songs sound like melodically inform the feelings that are being put into the lyrics, and that's why it's so cool to be able to have really talented, feeling, thinking, thoughtful people that you're making music with, because they get it, and we try to find the right way together for a song to really come alive and go out into the world. 

Matthew: When it comes to songwriting, do you spend a lot of time sitting down intending to write or does it tend to happen more organically?

Jeni: As for writing, I do sit down to write. I try to do it multiple times a day. It doesn't always work, but I find that the best songs come out when I don't mean to write, like they just pop up, and sometimes it's annoying because I got stuff to do. In fact, I'll be honest with you, the times that I write the best and most focused are when I have other things I'm supposed to be doing. Writing for me is an incredible procrastination tool. So like when I'm trying to avoid getting other work done, it's a really great thing to be able to sit down and write a song instead. What's wild is it can come at any time of the day. I've written songs at four in the morning when I couldn't sleep. I've written songs at nine in the morning when I got up from having a good night's sleep. I've written songs at lunch when I was supposed to be doing the dishes, and I didn't feel like doing them anymore. You know, it's just, I think you have to let inspiration come because life is busy. Life is chaotic. It's hard to find time to make these things happen, and so you make it happen when you can. And I do think that's really important to find those times and spaces to make them and to allow for them to happen.

Matthew: You've played from Vegas to the East Coast down to Florida, and so many places in between.  I love seeing a local act tour and get some shine. During these travels are there any musicians or idols you've crossed paths with or gotten to work with that you wouldn't have expected?

Jeni: Yeah, we've played the Big Blues Bender in Vegas with Keb Mo, and Shemekia Copeland, and Jimmy Vaughn, and it was a really, really amazing experience. We've done festivals on the East Coast, out in Massachusetts. We've toured to Florida a lot, I think five times now. And honestly, we love getting to tour. It's harder to do financially, but we love those opportunities, and we take them whenever we can. But people that you asked about, people we've played with, the highlight, there's probably two. One was opening for Walter Trout after COVID at the Adler Theater in Davenport. That was an amazing experience. That was something that we were pretty excited to be able to have happen for us, especially when we hadn't, at that moment, been opening for anybody, not of that level. So we were grateful that Walter had us and that the Adler had us. Then this past year, we played Buddy Guy's Legends in Chicago, which is exciting in and of itself, but Buddy Guy got on stage with us, which he is known to do. But we did hear from people that he tends to get up like five, sometimes 10 minutes. The man stayed up with us for 22 minutes. And if you watch the video, you will see that we had a really good time, and honestly, I cried after it, because I just couldn't believe that Buddy Guy would spend that much time with us. To have a living legend be on the stage while you're playing music with him and what he's been through and what he's seen and what he's done and what it's just, it was wild. It was pretty cool. Yeah, I mean, we've had some great experiences. We've played a backyard party and jammed with Albert Castiglia. That was really cool. I mean, I think I can call him amongst our friends. We've had some great opportunities, and we definitely don't take those moments lightly. We're very excited, but we also know that any artist we get a chance to play with is a pretty cool experience. It's probably one of my favorite things as a musician is getting the chance to just play, to jam, and to make music happen with folks that you wouldn't normally be playing with. So they don't have to be famous; they just have to have a good time. Oh, we did have a fun time where we were running a jam at the Mississippi Valley Blues Festival years ago, and Tab Benoit was there. And everybody knows he likes to have a good time. He hung out, and then he got on the drums with us and played some music. And that was really cool.

Matthew: Are there any other big plans for 2025 that you’d like people to know about?

Jeni: As far as what we have coming up this year, you know, we have stepped down a little bit in that we were going nuts doing as many shows every single weekend of the entire year as we could. You know, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays, usually between three and sometimes five shows a week, and we wore ourselves out, and people miss their families. You know, I get it. So we decided to take a little break. We're just taking certain shows. It's kind of a bummer, because we love playing the bars and the smaller venues where people can just interact with us and have a good time, rather than it being like a stage, but we also realize, if we keep doing that, it makes it less likely that they're going to buy a $40 ticket to go see us on a stage like Codfish Hollow. So we actually think that in the long run, it's a smarter choice for us to be able to grow our music and really focus on what shows, be selective about, what shows we're doing, and where we're performing. So yeah, we've got some we're excited we've got some festivals coming up this summer that we'll be doing. There's talk of working on an album. We've got a lot of irons in the fire at the same time. Everybody has their own separate bands. And our drummer, Bryan, I think he plays with 17 different groups. I don't know how he does it, but it's a busy time for everybody, and we're just happy to be able to be making music and engaging in this life in a really weird, like, I was gonna say real and exciting way, but I said weird, and maybe that's because it is somewhat weird. It is a weird and exciting way. Look Avey Grouws Band is one of the things that I'm most grateful for over the last 10 years, for sure, and I think it's always a surprise to see what's coming next. So we'll let you know if we find out. But I'm not sure we've totally figured it out yet. Go with the flow.

Matthew: Along similar lines, are there bands/musicians you’ve been listening to a lot that you think the world needs to know about, or people would be surprised you’re a fan of?

Jeni: Well, I would be dumb not to say, you know, check out everybody's individual stuff. Bryan West is playing with a bunch of bands. Randy Leasman has a solo career out there. Chris Avey has the. Chris Avey band. You can check that one out. I'm doing my solo stuff. Jeni Grouws music. Jeni Grouws with bands and solo so I think you know, that's music you could definitely check out if you're looking to see the ways in which we're all growing and doing different things.…The biggest thing I want to say is we just really want to say thank you to Codfish Hollow. That was a wildly cool experience, and all of the photographers that were there captured it in such a beautiful way. I mean, it really is this sort of little biome of music. It's the music. It's the band, it's the music lovers, it's the photographers, it's the tech folks, it's the merch folks. It's the owners that feed us and care for us. It's the dogs that keep us smiling because they're wanting a good pet and a piece of cheese backstage, like it's all of those things together that make a music experience like Codfish Hollow so special, and so we just want to say thank you again for having us, and man, we can't wait to get back.

Codfish Conversations #5: Keller Williams

Keller Williams has well-established himself in the bluegrass/jam band scene, and for good reason. The native Virginian virtuoso has been playing for over a half century. While he performs solo, and with a wide variety of musicians, the tour that brought him through Codfish Hollow in late June was a unique one to say the least. Billed as DeadPettyKellerGrass, Williams and a trio of other musicians play some of your favorite Grateful Dead, Tom Petty, and original Keller tunes with a bluegrass spin. While many of these songs are classics that I grew up listening to in my childhood home as the rhythm spilled from my parents’ stereo system, a stereo system which I was more than aware I was not allowed to play with, the arrangements this 4-piece bluegrass ensemble constructed brought a new life to songs I’ve heard dozens upon dozens of times. The atmosphere was hanging heavy in the hollow that night, and you could see the sweat falling from the limbs of the men on stage as they cut through their 2 sets, but that didn’t keep the crowds from moving and singing along to songs, I assume many also connect back to simpler times. I had the honor of sitting down with Keller just before he took the stage at Codfish for the first time to delve into everything from hockey stick guitars to Hee-Haw and R.E.M.

M: So, just a simple introduction to begin with. Who are you? Where do you call home, and how long have you been playing? 

K: My name is Keller Williams. Fredericksburg, Virginia is where I call home, and I've been playing for 52 years. 

M: As an artist myself, I know that sometimes there's not really an answer besides there's no other choice. But what initially got you into playing music?

Well, I'd have to say it was show on television called Hee Haw and it contained some gentlemen by the name of Buck Owens and Roy Clark, and they're picking and grinning. And I was, like, three, and I talked my parents into buying me a guitar, and then I just started pretending to play, you know, when I was three, and that was on this guitar that they got from, you know, Nickels.

And then that guitar kind of went to a hockey stick because it looked more like an electric and then I would take a piece of twine and make the strap on the hockey stick. I would leave a longer tail of twine to replicate the cable. And so skip ahead about seven years, I went to a class, I guess I was 10, and realized that I wasn't gonna make it in regular classes. A friend ended up showing me songs. And I think one of the first songs I ever played was Driver Eight, which is by REM. And there's a beautiful truck here with the driver eight on the license plate. 

M: REM is about the top level band for Tiff for sure. 

K: Oh, yeah. 

M: I think that if she could get any band out here, that would be it. A couple of the members that play in The Baseball Project have played out here. 

K: Oh, that's awesome. That's fantastic.

M: I've seen you perform in the past, both solo and with a backingband. Do you have a preference between the two?

K: The solo thing is, I call my day job, you know, I'm probably most comfortable with that. But at the end of the day, doing a project like this that bounces around from Grateful Dead to Tom Petty, and my songs then repeat. You know, it's like, that's what this gig is. And it's just an undeniable amount of fun that happens when we take liberties, just music and time together and, so I think the the idea from the beginning was always to play with humans, always be in a band. And then, by necessity, when it started it was a solo thing, and then it started to work, and I said you know, why fix it if it's not broken. So then once I was able to afford humans, I did, and I'm very lucky to be able to not have just one thing and get stagnant and have relationships go bad. It's better to have a couple really great groups you're with and do a couple shows, you know, a bunch of weekends every year, but, you know, keep the separation. It's always super special when it comes back together.

M: So do you think with a show like this, do you feel like you have more freedom to explore when you're playing?

K: Yes, absolutely. The solo stuff, you know, I can set up a loop and stuff, and I could go, Yeah, I can go there. But with, you know, with humans, there's a group consciousness that we can get into as a four-piece without drums. It's really quite interesting. And improvising, It's like what I do solo, you know, there's improvising involved, but it's not real improvising. Whereas, with this it's like a conversation, you're listening, and then you're putting in your ideas, and it goes with the conversation and moves and flows, and you can't really do that solo, you know.

M: Obviously, Codfish is unique, just in the fact that it's a barn next to a cow pasture. But what else makes it stand out? What was your initial impression of it? 

K: Well, first of all, just coming up on a barn and walking into it with like, three rows of speakers being the main in the front, and then, you know, 20 feet back that delay, and then there's more back from that. You go outside and it's just a beautiful thing to have a place really take the sound seriously. And with the amount of people that have played here, and I had no idea really about this place until this gig was booked. And I think I get so excited to find gems like this and see so many of my heroes that have played here. 

M: So outside of music, what inspires you on a daily basis, and has that inspiration changed as you've grown as a musician? 

K: Well, I mean, what inspires me is really keeping my surrounding folks happy. I live two different lives, so it's a very unrealistic life on the weekend, and then it's impossible for that not to carry over. And usually I'm gone from Thursday to Sunday, usually home like Sunday night to Thursday morning. And it's really, really easy to let the weekend seep into the week. And it's, it's a tricky, tricky line you gotta cross. And my kids now are 17 and 20, so you know, I don't think there's any going back now, the damage has been done.

M: When it comes to writing a song, do you do a lot of sitting down and trying to come up with stuff, or does it usually come organically? 

K: All the songs that I play all the time are ones that were written a long time ago that came organically. And then there's some songs that are what I call a self-imposed writing assignment, Because it's difficult to you know, I've been married for 27 years, and I've got dozens of songs about my wife. I love the shit out of her. But I don't know, the past three or four love songs I've written are great, and they're on a record, and they're fantastic, and I'm really proud of them, but I could never play them live. I wouldn't know them. I don't know the words. I just don't learn. So I write them and I record them, and unless they really hit me, I don't have any want or need to play them for some reason. And then they just go away. 

M: Yeah, at least you have it recorded. Are there any bands or musicians you've been listening to that might be a surprise to people that you listen to? 

K: Well, sure, let's start with surprise chef. They're a band out of Australia, instrumental. The Heliocentrics is another band that's reminiscent of like Medeski, Martin and Wood. Kind of super psychedelic trio with guitar and upright bass and it’s groovy. I love all kinds of dub reggae, like old school dub reggae. There's one I was thinking about the other day that I was trying to remember, if I ever got asked this question..The Hill Benders. That's what it is. I've been listening to a lot of The Hill Benders lately. Just definitely check them out. 

M: Yeah, those are all three bands I haven't heard of. So good to have new ones. In closing, I know you're doing this tour? Are there any other big plans for this year that you have coming up?

K: Next week I'm playing with The Keels for a show with Larry and Jenny Keel, friends of mine that I got a couple records with and haven't played with at all this year. So that'll be fun. Looking forward to that. I really like the fall months. You know, I really, I really like when it gets out of the summer. But, yeah Bender Jamboree in Las Vegas. I'm looking forward to that, and then I'm looking forward to the red eye out of Vegas that night, not waking up in Vegas. It's kind of cool. I've never done that, and I'm excited. I think it's going to be awesome. 

M: Well, that's all my questions. Thank you very much. I appreciate it 

K: My pleasure. You're welcome.

Codfish Conversations #4: Paul Janeway of St. Paul and The Broken Bones

A decade ago I was approached and asked if I’d be interested in covering the inaugural Hinterland Music Festival. TV on The Radio was playing, and that’s honestly all I needed to make my decision. It was my first time ever going to a festival alone, which would soon become a trend in my life, and actually was a huge motivator in regaining my confidence. I was broke beyond belief, retreating to my car between bands to replenish with the few snacks I brought along, and regulate my body temperature as the sun was unforgiving and a photo pit constructed of concrete played no positive role. I had no place to stay, and would be making the 3-hour return trip home soon after the final headliner took the stage. I look back fondly on this weekend, when I was just beginning to live out a photojournalistic dream I had originally drawn up as a teenager. A dream I am still chasing, or living, as sometimes the lines between those two begin to blend. Life is a chase more than a race, for we are out here attempting to better ourselves, not to beat others. Though I digress.

Back to that summer heat, and a stage nestled at the base of two hills that would soon become the bane of my weekend. While there were several names on the bill that I had known for years, many of the acts I was naïve to before this weekend. However, many I would not only come to love, but they and I would cross paths again, often at Codfish Hollow. I was introduced to acts like Justin Townes Earle, Future Islands, Joe Pug, Lucius, and St. Paul and The Broken Bones. The latter being the focus for this interview. This 8-piece powerhouse played Saturday afternoon, during one of the hottest points of the weekend. They came to the stage, dressed to the nines, and I can still recall lead singer, Paul Janeway, saying between songs, as he sweat through his suit, “Oh we’re from Alabama. This isn’t hot.” 

It’s only fitting that when I finally have the chance to see them again, it’s during another Iowa heatwave. However, the welcome walls of the Codfish Hollow Barn provide a comfort I didn’t quite find all those years ago, where St. Paul and The Broken Bones got the crowd dancing with their infectious blend of soul, only a matter of miles from the covered bridges of an Iowa county that once made it on movie marquees. I had the wonderful opportunity to sit down with Paul this past week for a quick conversation before they put on an absolute clinic of a show for a sold-out crowd at the best venue in the Midwest. This show will go down as a top-3 performance for the 2025 season at Codfish, and if you missed it, I truly feel bad for you. If these guys come anywhere near you, you’d be wise not to miss the show, it’s an experience you won’t soon forget.  

P: How you doing? 

M: I'm pretty good, trying to survive this heat. 

P: Do you live in the area? 

M: Pretty close.. I'm from the Quad Cities originally, but I probably live about 20 miles from here now. 

P: What's in the Quad Cities?

M: Davenport and Bettendorf, and it's like 15 different actual cities. So first, just an introduction. Who are you? How long have you been playing, and where do you call home?

P: My name is Paul Janeway. I'm the singer in the band (St Paul and The Broken Bones) This band has existed for 13 years at this point, and my home, I live in Birmingham, Alabama. 

M: What originally got you into music? I know sometimes there's nota good answer other than like, there's not really another option.

P: I grew up in rural Alabama. I grew up singing in church. My first solo was when I was four years old. It was kind of a fun church, I guess, is the best way, right? 

M: Sounds like it 

P: Like more charismatic, speaking in tongues, a little bit. Went through phases, but, um, yeah. So that kind of thing, and I grew up singing. And my mom plays piano. And, yeah.

M: So like, a lifelong kind of family thing. Does that religious background play into the current music at all? 

P: Yeah, I think, to a degree, I guess. I mean, we're definitely not a religious band by any stretch, but I think it definitely plays a role in the performance. You know how to read an audience. Kind of performing with, like, all the, all that you have within you is definitely kind of a more church thing to do

Hinterland 2015

M: Yeah, and I saw you guys, it's been 10 years now at the first Hinterland Festival, and the performance blew me away. 

P: Was that the one where they had to change the location?

M: Yeah. They just do it at that location ever since. Okay, what inspires you on a daily basis, and has that inspiration changed as you've grown? 

P: Good question. What inspires me every day? I think part of it, you know, I'm a perpetual motion person, so just finding little things, little goals. I think for me there's, there is kind of a spiritual nature to things like being a decent person. Yeah, you know, you know what I mean? Doing good acts, not being motivated by ego. And then obviously I have, I have a young daughter, and my wife, so definitely inspiring and trying to be a better person. And then money,

M: Of course. Well that's a given. When it comes to songwriting, either by yourself or with the band, do you guys do a lot of sitting down and hashing things out, or is it kind of an organic process? 

P: We've kind of done it many ways. We're pretty agnostic in the way we write. With some stuff, I mean we've been working on a new record. We wrote a lot of that in a studio with us playing. And then the first record was definitely written, but just me and Jesse (t And we’ve done the bedroom demo thing, and we've kind of done it all sorts of different ways. 

M: This is your guys' first time here, right? Oh, yes, What's your initial impression of it? Like, obviously, it's cow pasture, but, what makes it stand out other than that? 

P: Yeah, I mean we smell that. So when we, you know, you start talking about routing for tours and stuff. One was like, Oh, well, do we want to play Iowa City and our agent was like, Hey, there is this place. You know, if you don't want to do it, that's fine, but there is a place. It's kind of a barn in the middle of nowhere. And the moment I saw the first photo, I was like, Absolutely,

M: Yeah. It's usually, it seems like it's a harder sell for people until they see it, or they get here then everyone’s totally in. 

P: Oh yeah, for me, like, you know, we've been doing this for a little bit, so I like doing something unique. Now, granted, I was like, is anybody gonna buy any tickets? Like, how does this even work? I mean, it ended up selling out really quick. 
M: Yeah, there's good support out here for sure

P: Yeah. It was a good, positive thing. But I honestly, we kind of had something like the backstage and everything, something fairly similar in Birmingham called Bottle Tree Cafe, and it was a 200-cap room, and, like this, kind of the way this backstage is, it wasn't a barn, which is way cooler. It was just like a normal music venue, but the way, hospitality, everything, it seems like everybody's kind of full-in. And I've actually really loved it. We've actually been looking forward to this show. 

M: That's great

P: Yeah, because it is unique. It's like you never know it, but it is completely unique.

M: Definitely and I think your guys' sound is very fitting for it

P: Yeah, yeah, it could be a really fun time

M: Let's see. What's the best piece of advice you've received from another musician, or any that you would give to an aspiring musician?

P: Um, golly. Best piece of advice. Gonna name drop here. Elton John told me not to sell my publishing.

M: I mean, not bad advice. 

P: For me, it's like, don't lose yourself and, be yourself. I know that's cliche, all of that stuff, but it's like, you know, don't try to chase the dragon of trying to be something you're not. Or, like, I think especially in the age of the internet, you've got to hustle. You've got to work. It is hard work, but in the age of the internet, like, if you have personality and you have a thing, and you are you, you'll find an audience. It's a different time. You know, there used to be a lot of gatekeepers, and there's not that many gatekeepers. It's a harder thing to do now. 

M: Okay, you did mention how long you guys have been playing. You've played kind of every spot. Are there any venues you haven't played that you guys are still really hoping for?

P: Never done Red Rocks. 

M: That surprises me. 

P: Yeah, we never did. We have a weird thing where we've been offered to open up, or be strong support. I've had an experience in my life where we've opened up to places I've always wanted to play, and it's a good experience. It's just not your experience. So I've never seen Red Rocks or any show there. I want my first eyeballs to be when we had a headline show there. 

M: I've been there once, and it was for a podcast. So it wasn't even music

P: Yeah, not as fun, I would think.

M: It was different. I guess, in closing, you said you guys have been working on a new album. Is there anything else big in the plans for 2025

P: I mean, we're touring, you know, hopefully new music. We're actually going to play a lot of new songs tonight. So we'll see how it goes, we've been kind of using this as road testing and see what's working, what's not working.

M: Have you been getting good responses from them?

P: So far it's been really great. You know, we've done two different records, very different from what people kind of know us for. And so it's been interesting to see how these go, because I think people have been responding really well. 

M: That's great Well, that's all I had. 

P: Oh, okay, great. Easy enough.

M: For sure. Thanks for doing it, though. 

P: No problem at all. 

M: It’s a new running thing we're doing this summer. 

P: I love it. Yeah, I was like, I mean, not really doing anything, I'm listening to an audio book. That's about it. 

M: What are you listening to? 

P: James. Have you heard about this book? Like it's from the slave in Huckleberry Finn's point of view, and they tell his story

M: Interesting. No, I've not heard about thae

Hinterland 2015

P: Yeah it won a Pulitzer Prize. I mean, it's not a like a happy book. 

M: Well, yeah, I would expect not

P: But it is really good. So I'm about, I've got like, an hour of listening, and then I'm done with it.

M: I've been looking for new books. So I might have to check that out.

P: I just finished Demon Copperhead. Have you ever read that one?

M: I have not

P: Oh Man! 

M: I'm really out of the loop.

P:  That's a great one.

M: Awesome. Well, thank you again. 

P: It was a pleasure. 

Codfish Conversations #3: Anthony Worden (and the Illiterati)

Anthony Worden is a name you should know, and somehow before this past weekend at Codfish Hollow I was somehow not familiar with the Iowa-City based musician that made his debut at the barn, where he and his band, The Illiterati, absolutely blew the doors off the place. I had been hearing murmurs of this upcoming show, so the excitement had established itself, and I knew it was going to be one I didn’t want to miss. Taking the middle spot of a 3-band bill, in the middle of a 4-day heat advisory, this 5-piece from Eastern Iowa had people dancing from front stage all the way around the back of the barn, where I happily watched a group of volunteers moving their feet along with the music until the final note. These volunteers are no strangers to live music, and it’s always a treat to see them lose themselves in the soundscape. Codfish Hollow never disappoints, heatwave be damned!  

The Audio this week is a bit different, as I wasn’t able to conduct the interview in person, Anthony recorded the audio portion on his own so the flow is a little different, and you won’t hear my voice, but I have a feeling people enjoy the audio option as opposed to reading the text, so I wanted to include it here.

Matthew: Let’s start off with an introduction for those who aren’t familiar. Who you are, how long have you been playing, and where do you call home?  

Anthony: My name is Anthony Warden, and I have a band called The illiterati. I’ve been doing this project since 2017. In that time, I've released five studio albums and one live album that we just put out in May. And I live in Iowa City, but I'm originally from Cedar Rapids. 

Matthew: As a professional artist myself, I understand that sometimes the answer is simply that there was no other choice, but why did you become a musician? What or who originally got you interested in music?

Anthony: I think I became a musician because I got really into the game Guitar Hero when I was a kid. That was the thing, and then my brother started taking bass lessons from a guy who lived in our neighborhood. I saved up some money from lawn mowing and got a Stratocaster and started taking lessons from him. This old rocker guy. His name is Brooke Hoover. He also plays and is the founder of this, of the surf band, the Surf Zombies. So I say he got me interested in music. But my parents, you know, like so many other people, had a cool CD collection, not like crazy cool, but they had, the Beatles and The Stones and I guess I remember just really getting into the White Album and Abbey Road and transferring those CDs to my iPod and listening to a lot of those. So I guess that's kind of how I got into it. And then other people along the way, like my friend Tim, would show me, Radiohead, and CDs from the 90s. And once you kind of get into those bigger bands, it kind of launches your other interests.

Matthew: What inspires you on a daily basis, and specifically, where do you draw inspiration from, both musically and outside of the world or music? 

Anthony: What inspires me? I guess, records, typically. I'm always listening to different stuff. I'm always trying to find things that get me excited, you know. You know, I’m not like, way old. I'm 33. So I've been doing it a while. You know, I've been playing guitar for like, 20 years, and sometimes it's hard to get that inspiration back. You know, I'm an electrician and in another band, so it's hard to find the time, and you've already heard a lot of stuff. You see a million bands, you've played a lot of shows, but I think just records and people showing me music, like someone just showed me the band The Droids from the UK, like a 77 era, first wave punk band, or even, like the band Death, the song Crystal Mountain. My friend Servo showed those bands to me, and I just was blown away totally by them, and so I think it's other people showing me records, maybe knowing my taste Or just going on YouTube, and trying to find some old videos or stuff that may not be available on streaming that I heard before. 

Matthew: Has that inspiration changed as you’ve grown, both personally and musically?

Anthony: I guess I kind of answered that, but yeah, I think you just go deeper, trying more things, trying to get better as a songwriter. You know, try to learn a little bit along the way. Learn how the studio works. Learn how to emulate some of your favorite writers. Kind of study their songs and try to bring that into your own stuff.

Matthew: When it comes to songwriting, do you spend a lot of time sitting down intending to write or does it tend to happen more organically?

Anthony: These days? Yeah, I just don't have as much time. I'm in a band called God's hands, and it's like a punk, punk type band, kind of post punk, and I can, sit down and just set a beat and you know, make a bunch of demos, just anything that comes to mind.

With my music, which you know can be a bit more complicated. It usually just kind of comes organically. I'm just sitting up with a guitar or, typically on a Saturday mornings, have a cup of coffee. My brain is kind of free to do whatever. I'm not worried about anything on Saturday mornings, I'm just kind of enjoying the freedom, and usually something comes out of those sessions. But yeah, over the past few years, it's been hard to write. As I get older, you have more responsibilities, spending time with your friends and your girlfriend and your family and all the work stuff too. So the I would say it comes in a lot of ways, jamming, but mostly just sitting down in my studio and trying to get something going. 

Matthew: I know you have deep roots in Iowa City. Growing up in the QC, Iowa City was where I really discovered so much music/art that formed my lifelong tastes. What is your favorite aspect of the area, music or otherwise?

Anthony: yeah, so I when I graduated high school, I went to a college in Dubuque for one year, and then I pretty much knew I had to get out of there and go to Iowa City, because I knew that there was more music in Iowa City. When I was in high school, to go to like the Mission Creek festival. I just heard of bands being here. So that's kind of what drew me at first. It was, you know, like, I didn't really know anybody who played music here, so it took a long time to meet people and get into the music scene. But, you know, eventually it happened. And I think, yeah, just if you're gonna live in Iowa, and I don't know, I don't want to say that, I guess, but it seems like Iowa City is one of the most fertile grounds for art. I'd say, as far as there being a history of people who come here to be in a more accepting environment for art. Like anything it has changed over the years. It's not as affordable to live here compared to pretty much anywhere else. There's pretty much no affordable housing in Iowa City for for up and coming artists. So it's kind of tough. But yeah, I mean, I played a lot at Gabes, played a lot of shows there. Trumpet Blossom is great. But, yeah, there's a lot of cool people. The punk scene here has always been a thing. There's always been people coming in and out, but it's kind of still going pretty strong. A lot of aspects to this area, you know, long running record store, too, is really important for a town, like Record Collector.

Matthew: I saw you've created music both as Andrew Worden and with your group The Illiterati. Do you approach the music/sound differently when working with the band as opposed to doing it individually?

Anthony: I guess so. Well, it kind of goes like this. I write a lot of the songs, and I collaborate. I write the songs, or get a very good idea of what I want for the song, and then bring the band in, and then we flush out the arrangement. So the Illiterati is kind of just the name for the people that would be playing behind me. I probably have had like 20 members of my band. This is one of those things where people come in and out. People move. People want to focus more on their individual bands. So the Illiterati is less of like a formed unit that has stayed really consistent over the years, and more of a rotating cast of characters that I kind of asked to join.

Because there's been people that have been in the band for you know, five years, and then move, and some people are in it for a year or two, or less, but, yeah, the people I had at the Codfish show. Was Avery on keys, Aaron Knight on the drums, Lucas on bass, and Joe Shanks on piano. Avery lives in Chicago. They played with me for like five years, and they were in town for a few weeks, so I just asked them if they wanted to play. Joe is actually moving to Chicago in like three weeks, and he's been playing with me for a year and a half. Aaron played with me for like, four years, but then he left to focus more on his other bands. But sometimes I'll ask him to play gigs, and when my drummer's out on tour, he's always down. Lucas has probably been the longest member. He's been with me on and off for something like five or six years. 

Matthew: I know your recent release, was inspired by loss and major life shifts. I think it’s important to use art as an outlet for these moments, has addressing those things in song helped you process and move through the moment? Almost in a therapeutic sense

Anthony: Yeah, totally. I think it was less about lyrically talking about a major life shift, those definitely inspire lyrics and give you something actually real to write about. But it was more the process of of working on art, like something to do and focus on during those moments. So yeah, I think playing with the band, hanging out with them, writing and developing the songs for that album, spending time at Flat Black studios, mixing it with Avery, those were all things that really were positive things for me. And the story of the making was kind of being bummed out, but having something to focus on during that tough time.

Matthew: There’s a reason Codfish has so many returning artists. What was your initial impression of this place and what makes it stand out from other venues, beyond the obvious fact it’s a barn next to a cow pasture?

Anthony: I mean, it was beautiful. It ranks number one by far for places that I've played. I think that was due to mainly the staff being so welcoming, so understanding, so positive, and being absolutely great hosts. I mean, Curt, it was like, you know, I never experienced a show runner like that. Just a really nice guy. I sat down next to him, and he just was like, ‘How are you feeling? And I'm like, I'm feeling good. You know, we want to play good because, you know, we're playing with Night Moves, and they're one of my favorite bands from the Midwest, or one of my favorite bands making music, and you're nervous, you want to play a good show in front of those guys. You don't want to shit the bed in front of one of your favorite bands. I kind of described it to my girlfriend the other day, like, I want the crowd to have a good time, but their opinion of how good we did doesn't matter anything compared to how, you know, what Night Moves would have said about our set. You know, I kind of want to impress them, so I put a lot of pressure on myself to play a good show, to have my band ready to go. And Curt was just like, “Hey, you're gonna kill it. We know you're good, you're gonna be great.” And it's just like, Wow, thank you, man. And not to mention, Tiff. Tiff is so nice, and she's so generous in letting this space be used for people to come together of all different beliefs. I mean, we know what it is like. Iowa is a conservative state and it's not the most welcoming place anymore for people who don't match the status quo, I guess, in a lot of ways. And you go there and you see rainbow flags, you see a lot of things that would make it a comfortable space for all people. And I don't know I'm so interested in the things that bring us together, people of all different beliefs, shapes and sizes, and music is one of those things. And it's really cool down the middle of this cornfield outside of Maquoketa there's a place where people can come and celebrate each other and music and all that. I think it's really important and a really great thing. And a thing that you don't see too much in this state, you don't see it at all. It's the only place like it. So, yeah, wonderful. I would come back in a heartbeat. 

Matthew: What’s the best piece of advice you’ve received from another musician? Is there any insight/advice you’d give to aspiring musicians, or even possibly to your younger self? 

Anthony: You know, I was thinking about this today after reading this, and I can't really remember any advice that I've received from another musician. It's just been like, I don't know stuff about recording or guitar playing, and that stuff is something that's kind of boring. Any inside advice I’d give to aspiring musicians? I guess just treat everybody with kindness. Make it fun. Make it fun if you're a band leader, make it fun for the people in your band. Lead with kindness. Anything I’d say to my younger self? You know, there's a million things you could tell your younger self, like you should have done this, you should have done that. Hey, do this. But I am where I am now, and it's not too bad of a place. You know, I'm able to play music at a place like Codfish for wonderful people. That's a pretty good place to be. 

Matthew: Is there a band/musician you’ve been listening to a lot that you think the world needs to know about, or people would be surprised you’re a fan of?

Anthony: Maybe people wouldn't think that I would be into the band Death, but they're very good, like the Steely Dan of death metal. The Records we covered,  a song of theirs Starry Eyes. I think it is a great song. Not many people know about it. Not many people know about The Records. They have a live album. Play Live in Evanston, it's really incredible, if you're into rock music. But yeah, Death- Crystal Mountain. Great album.

Matthew: In closing, what else do you have on the horizon for 2025/what would you like readers to know about? 

Anthony: Not much of 2025. September 19th we're playing Iowa City’s downtown concert series. Probably just writing more music. We'll probably pick up some more shows in the fall, but we'll just see . We'll keep rocking, keep writing, and keep keeping on. So anyway, thank you. 

Codfish Conversations #2: Two Runner

Matthew: Okay, so we'll do this as quick as possible.

Emily: No problem. Okay, wait, can I interview you?

Matthew: If you'd like.

Emily: Where are you from originally? 

Matthew: I'm from Davenport, the Quad Cities, but I live closer to Maquoketa now.

Emily: And you do photography, like, as your main thing?

Matthew: Yeah, pretty much. I do a lot of, like, Art Gallery stuff and shows more so than this.

Emily: But that's cool. 

Paige: Can I ask you one more question? In Davenport, there was that, like, what was it, where people will come and record

Matthew: Daytrotter. Raccoon Motel is kind of keeping that alive, like it's still Sean Moeller doing it. But it's different, for sure. Okay, so just introductions. Who are you? Where are you from? and How long have you been playing? 

Emily: We are Two Runner we're from Nevada City, California. We are a duo. And we are Emily Rose and Paige Anderson. And we both grew up in our tiny town in Nevada City. There’s about 3000 people that live there in this mining town.

Matthew: Northern California? 

Paige: Yeah. 

Matthew: As an artist myself, I know sometimes there's not really an answer to it, other than you didn't have any other thing you wanted to do. But what got you into music originally?

Emily: I feel like that's exactly what happened to both of us, we kind of both saw a really clear path, like separately of each other, and both really pursued that path. When we finally did meet, because we didn't know each other for a really long time in this tiny town, and when we finally did meet, it was pretty clear that that was this common goal between us, and so that works really,  really well, especially when you're in a band together, when you're living together in a van, and when you're actually a business together. So on all fronts, it actually really helps that the goal is, like, pretty clear.

Matthew: What inspires you on a daily basis, either musically or outside of music?

Emily: Oh, let's see all sorts of things. Life

Paige: Truly, life, that's my only answer

Matthew: So is a lot of your stuff actually autobiographical?

Paige: All of it is pretty much, yeah.

Emily: Paige is the songwriter of the group, the sole songwriter

Matthew: When it comes to songwriting, do you actually, do you spend more time intending to, sit down and come up with stuff, or is it more it comes organically?

Paige: it depends, um, like, for this most recent record, I knew that I had to write a bunch of stuff, and so I would force myself to sit down, because it's hard to write when we're on tour. Yeah, I, like, have no space for it in my brain or anything. Yes, I have to be really like private to myself and tuned in.

Emily: No Time away from Emily. No, it's true, though. It's true.

Paige: Literally, anybody. I have to isolate myself if I'm writing songs, yeah. Like, it's a really intense process for me, and I'll go through so many emotional waves while I'm writing to where it's like, oh shit, this is a really sad song, and I'm really depressed, like, all day long, and it's a very, like, raw experience to, curate a song out of your brain and experiences and body. But then when I'm done with that, I'll come to Emily and we'll, like, Emily will work on the musical aspect of it, and we'll come together and, like, build this beautiful thing. That's like, I just love it so much. I love it.

Matthew: I think it shows while you guys are playing, like, last year, when you played, there were a lot of comments afterwards where it was like, I mean, everybody gets into it here, but, you really seemed like you were having fun. 

Emily: Oh yeah. Totally we do every time, and if we're not, then something is gravely wrong

Matthew: When it comes to codfish, what I mean? Obviously it's a barn in the middle of nowhere. But what else makes it stand out from other venues or places that you play?

Emily: This feels a lot like where we both grew up in that tiny town in northern California where people are free spirits, and it just happened that way. You know, everybody just started like that, and kind of became that. It's kind of a lot of the origination of, like the original, Grateful Dead, old hippies that lived there and have always been there. So we grew up around that like just no inhibitions. So when we come to a place like this, in a place where maybe your outside perspective is that it's not this, yeah, you are shocked. You are shocked into oblivion, but it feels so good, because this feels like home to us. Yeah this place is really, really special, and we felt that from the moment that we got here last time. And so it's like a place that we, like, really looked forward to.

Matthew: I'm sure, definitely a different spot, I mean, compared to where I'm sure you're playing venues normally

Emily: Yeah. And we are country bumpkins. So this is like, very, very, very, perfect. Yeah.

Matthew: What's the best piece of advice you've ever received from another musician or that you give to a musician?

Paige: Gillian Welch once told me that this is a hard journey, but if you love it it'll fulfill your life. And that's stuck with me. That changed my whole entire I was like, “I'm doing music.”  Yeah, I don't know. What about you?

Emily: From the flip side of that, I am a music teacher, and my favorite students to teach are kids and like, very beginner adults or kids, whatever. And I think what I love to tell them is just that there are no rules. There are no rules. Yeah, yeah. It doesn't matter. Just do what you do, what feels good. That's what is right. 

Matthew: Good Answer. What new bands or musicians have you been listening to that you think people need to know about? 

Paige: I’m such a nerd about this..such a dweeb about this. Okay, first of all, Watch House has a new album that is just beautiful, like when you really get into it and really listen to it, it's just, it's a freaking masterpiece. But also, there's this band called Haute and Freddy, like, haute couture and Freddie. And they're a synth pop band, like, very reminiscent of, like, 80’s synth pop like Gary Neuman pipeline straight to 2025, freaking amazing. They have probably four songs out right now, and they're blowing up, and they’re somebody to look out for. It's so not our type of music, but it's so hype. It's so good.

Matthew: Other than, I mean, codfish is obviously a place. Are there any other venues that you guys haven't played that would be like the top of the list of where you want to go? 

Both: Red Rocks

Paige: Yeah. I mean, obviously, because Emily and I are such nature people, and just the aspect of like, being in a rock formation, playing to a huge crowd is, like, really beautiful to both of us. 

Emily: It'd be really fun, because we're a little bit unhinged on stage. It would be really fun to be like, kind of unhinged at Red Rocks. I think that would be sick.

Matthew: Kind of similar. If you could play with any other musician, who would you choose?

Paige: I feel like we've played with everybody that we want to play with, except, like, I mean, yeah, Gillian Welch, David Rawlings, but they, announced that they don't have openers So, but it'd be really cool to play with them someday. 

Emily: “Hint Hint”

Paige: Yeah, I don't know there's so many amazing people that we look up to, but we're so lucky that we've been able to tour with a lot of our heroes. And Emily and I both wake up every day and have so much gratitude for the life that we're living. And, yeah, it's so amazing. We're so grateful.

Matthew: All right, last question. What else do you have planned for this year? Like, anything that you want people to know about?

Paige: Let's see, we're finishing this tour with WatchHouse, and then we have another tour with them in August. It'll be more East Coast. We're playing, Red Butte Garden in Salt Lake City with Elephant Revival. 

Matthew: Oh, cool, yeah, they were here last year

Emily: We played that! So they're a dream band to play with also, but, um, yeah, Red Butte, Red Rocks, like, that's pretty, that's close, right? 

Paige: Oh yeah, we're finishing our new album, our new full-length album. 

Emily: Europe. 

Paige: Oh yeah, we're going to Europe for the first time

Matthew: That's exciting

Paige: With Alela Diane, who is also from Nevada City. She was born and raised in Nevada City, and she moved to Portland, Oregon, but she's really big in the folk scene, and she's doing a European tour, and invited us on and we’re so excited.

Emily: It’s our first time!

Codfish Conversations #1: William Elliott Whitmore

Matthew:  All right, so first of all, just an introduction, how long have you been playing, where do you call home?

William: I've been playing now for about 27 years, and I live in Lee County, Iowa, which is the southeastern tip of Iowa, where the Mississippi River meets the Des Moines River. It's that little southeastern tip. That's where I call home.

M: What originally got you into music, and was the guitar and banjo, where it all started, or was there a different instrument first?

W: I started on guitar, acoustic guitar. I come from a kind of a musical family, my dad played the guitar, my grandpa played the guitar, my grandpa also played the banjo, and so there were just instruments around. So I was lucky in that sense, and we were always playing music on the stereo. My folks would spin records on one of those home console record players that was like a piece of furniture in your house, a whole console, and we'd spin records on it. My folks were big fans of country music, and stuff like Charlie Pride, Dolly Parton, and Johnny Cash.

M: Yeah, that kind of shows through, I can see that.

W: We were listening to a lot of that in the house, and there were just instruments around. So I got into it kind of organically like that, and I was writing too, even as a kid, I liked to make up little stories, and I had an old typewriter that my mom had given me, that still had some ribbon left that worked in it, and I would type little stories and poems and stuff on it. So I always liked to do that, and then, yeah, there were guitars and banjos around, but the banjo came later after the guitar, but yeah, it kind of just happened in an organic way.

M: Being from Iowa, and growing up around here, other than the obvious family aspect, what has kept you here? Was there ever a dream of going somewhere more outside the Midwest, as a permanent kind of thing?

W: I probably dreamt of that when I was real little. I grew up on a farm. I still live on the same farm that I grew up on.

M: Oh, that's really cool.

W: I'm lucky like that, and a lot happened to make it that way, but that's just how it ended up. But probably as a kid, I wanted to live in California or something, because I would read Thrasher magazine and dream of being able to go skateboarding all year round with no snow.

M: I understand that for sure.

W: So when you're little and you kind of don't know what your priorities are yet, it's stuff like that. And movies, you know, like movies set in Los Angeles, I just think, oh, that looks so much fun. So there was probably a short period of that, but then it didn't take long to realize that Iowa is where I wanted to live, but I'm lucky because I get to travel a lot. I didn't know that this was going to be my life, necessarily. Like in high school I didn't know that I'd be traveling for a living.  I always liked to run around and see new places, but I always wanted to end up back here. So I can kind of scratch that itch a little bit. I got family members that have barely ever left Iowa. That's how they like it, and they don't understand what I do or why I would ever want to go to New York City or Paris or Australia or whatever. And that's cool too, but I always had that itch to move around. As far as living somewhere, I would never want to live anywhere else. It's where all my family is. It's where I'm used to. I was never running away from anything. I have friends that had things to run away from. Maybe bad family situations or whatever it may be, and now live in Chicago and all over the world in different places. I didn't have the things to run from as much so I really love living in Iowa. It's also cheap to live here. So people ask How do I make a living as a musician or whatever and I'm like, first of all, I don't have a band or a crew or anything to pay, and also I live in Iowa, where it's pretty reasonable to live. But I don't know how my buddies who live in Brooklyn or somewhere could ever make a living being an artist at all.

M: I had some friends in the Bay Area, and it was just a struggle the whole time.

W: I spent some time out in Oakland and San Francisco and the only way you could do it is if you had 10 of you in a warehouse or whatever, and the warehouses kind of went away after that big fire. The Ghost Ship Fire. I lived in one of those warehouses where there's like 20 of you, and you might have a mattress in some corner and pay a couple hundred bucks to have a mattress in the corner and man, I loved it. There’s a lot of different ways to live this crazy life, but I am where I want to be for sure.

M: I've been lucky enough to see you with Middlewestern a handful of times. What's the shift like being with a band on stage as opposed to just being solo? Do you like that sort of change?

W: I do. We haven't played together in a couple of years, but those guys are some of my best friends, and the reason we started that band is because we all play in other bands and have other things happening. It was an excuse to get together, hang out and make music. And I love it because it fulfills something that I don't get by myself on stage, which is you can look over at your buddy and have a laugh or just get a groove going and have a vibe that you're creating something bigger than yourself. You can look at each other on stage and sort of just trip out on what you're making together. And those guys are all great musicians. I was the weakest link, musically.  I would just trip out and watch these great guitar players, and I’d almost forget that I was in the band. So when bands are working and clicking on all cylinders, I get why people do it because you can create something that's different than yourself. But I wouldn't want to do that all the time because there's something about what I do just by myself that I like too. I can sort of change it anytime I want. I can make it faster, slower, change the key, change the song in the middle if I want, change the set list, do anything like that. You can't do that with a band. Unless you're Bob Dylan, who would just change the key on a whim, you know, and the band better just follow along because he's going to change it.  So it's cool to have both, but I like being nimble like that.

M: This isn't your first time at Codfish. Other than the fact that it's obviously a barn in a cow pasture. What makes it stand out from other venues?

W: Tiffany and Curt and everyone, all the volunteers that run this place, they should all write a book on how to run a venue and everyone should read it. I've told those guys that it's just that they put a personal touch to it that you don't see anywhere else. They're also able to. Not every venue is able to do that. What they've built here is something very organic that they can grow and change on their own terms. They're not beholden to Hard Rock Cafe or like,  House of Blues. These chains, where the orders are from on high. I've played everywhere from the tiniest hole in the wall to Carnegie Hall, literally, and everywhere between, and this is one of the most special venues in the world. It's because they put that personal care into it. That's like back breakingly hard for them, and I hope bands that come here know all the work that has been put into this. It's not just them. It's a whole team of volunteers, and it's super hard, and it's a real labor of love. So I understand why not every venue is able to do it. If you're just in some city and you're, the Mohawk in Buffalo or whatever. That is a punk rock club that's its own thing, and of course, you don't come there expecting the same kind of treatment. And that's cool. I like that. There are all sorts of different venues and places to be. This one is just special. When they have shows in seasons like this, it's nice out. There's green spaces for you to hang out. For those that have never been here or can't see, it's just this beautiful little farm and a holler, and the people that live here, it's been in their family for generations, and I just love it so much. So it's just a very special place, and it's because of the people they've had. Other people try to say, Hey, we have an old barn. How do we put on shows like you guys do? You can't do it, unless you're ready to put in every second of work and every hour of back-breaking labor, and it's just not for the faint of heart. It takes a certain constitution to do this. So it's the people that make it what it is

M: To shift a little bit. Who are your biggest inspirations currently? Are there any musicians that you think a lot more people need to hear about it?

W: So what I've been listening to lately is a lot, of like, weird hardcore music. I don't know if you've ever heard of Scowl.

M: I've heard of, but never listened to.

W: Scowl is great. There's a band called Gel that’s really great. There's a band called Mannequin Pussy.

M: They were just in Iowa City.

W: Yeah, for Mission Creek. Wish I was there. They were on a different night than me. They're doing really interesting things. There's just this great, kind of weird, hard post-post-punk. You know, they're just doing their own thing. There's this great band called Zulu. These youngsters are coming up and doing this great hard, melodic, beautiful, weird, angular music. I was also struck recently by all the artists that I kind of grew up with that are still kicking ass, like, the newest Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds album was really good.

M: I didn't know he had new stuff.

W: Oh, he's consistently been putting out records since forever, and they're always good. Their new album is called Wild God. Kim Deal from the Breeders. Her solo album that came out just last year is awesome. Bob Mold.

M: Yeah he just played here, it was so good

W: Yeah, his new record is really good. There's others that aren’t coming to my mind right now. But just these Titans of music that have been around for a long time still making killer stuff.

M: So two more. What's the biggest piece, or the best piece of advice, that you've received from another musician, and is there any advice you'd give to your younger self?

W: The best piece of advice was from my friend Smelly, who sings in a country band called Red Meat. They live in the Bay Area. They're from Iowa, but they've been out in the Bay Area for a long time. Great country band. But my friend Smelly, he's always been a little bit of a mentor to me. When I was first starting to play shows, he said, Hey, man, you're not singing into the microphone. You got to sing into the microphone. Now that seems like a simple thing. But I close my eyes when I play. It started off as being mortified and nerves. I just closed my eyes and kind of pretended I was alone or whatever. Now I just do it out of habit. I closed my eyes so I would lose track of where the microphone was. He's like, dude, no one can hear you. The mic's over here, and you're singing over here. So it's really nuts and bolts, like literally singing into the microphone. It's such a silly thing. But he's like, let your mustache touch it almost. So to this day, and that's been like 25 years ago he gave me that advice, it's because of him that I let my mustache touch it. That way I know where it is. So that's a piece of simple advice.

Then what I could tell my younger self. That's such a good one. That's a really good one. What would you tell yourself? Just have fun. Don't worry.

M: I’ve had quite a few interviews with musicians, and that's what a lot of them say.

W: Just let go of what you think you should be doing. Where you should be, and who you think you should be. This goes for anyone no matter what your line of work is. A little bit of healthy anxiety is all right. If that fuels your fire, to go, okay, I need to do better. I wasn't my best self last night, maybe I could do a little better tomorrow or whatever, there's a healthy amount of that. But mostly, I think we could just let go of all that stuff. Be yourself, and have fun. Now I'm talking specifically about music again as a job. Have fun, and just enjoy it. Don't worry about the next thing. Have goals for sure. And I think you need to have those goals to drive you forward. I like that in my life. I like steps and goals, but don't worry about it. 

And that's interesting that a lot of people say that. Because it's the old thing of like, what were you worried about 10 years ago? Or what were you worried about last year? Now, this is besides big picture things, political things. I'm worried about a lot in the world. It's not to say there aren't things to worry about. There are, and we need to keep fighting the good fight. But I'm saying in your personal life, something that was causing me anxiety a year ago, like Oh, did I say a weird thing to someone at a party? Did they take that the wrong way? What happened in a year? Nothing. You're fine. So in a year from now, what will you look back on and go, why was I worried about that? So I try to heed that because I'll chew on a negative thought until it's just nothing.

Mark Twain called it the devil's racetrack; it's just a loop, and usually it's at three in the morning. You know, you wake up and then some bad negative loop…the devil's racetrack. So to get off the devil's racetrack and just enjoy a lot of it. I would tell my younger self just to lighten up. Don't worry about it. And, uh, invest. Invest Dammit.

M: Finally, what do you have planned for 2025? Is there anything big that you're excited about?

W: Let's see. I don't have any new material coming out. I've got tours coming up, and I always look forward to more shows. I’ll speak career-wise for a second. I found this old CD, the demos of my very first album, which came out in 2003, that I forgot I even had. It was some demos I did in the studio. I'd never been in a real recording studio or anything. It was in Chicago, and we just demoed some stuff out with no band or anything. It was just kind of me. We drank a few beers, and I would just demo the stuff out for the guy that was going to record, and he made a CD of it back in the day, and I just found it. I was listening to them and I thought, man, these are kind of cool, maybe I'll release these. So I'm going to press them on vinyl. It's the first record, called “Hymns for the Hopeless.” So it's the Hymns for the Hopeless demos. I'm going to release that on vinyl. I'm kind of excited for people to hear that. So that'll be something cool. And then yeah, my daughter will be taking swim lessons. That's not, you know, it's not cosmically big, but big in my life. She'll have some swim lessons this summer and then start kindergarten in the fall. So there are those family things that are these milestones. But yeah, there's no seismic shift happening, just some kind of cool things to look forward to. 

M: Awesome, well, thank you again. I appreciate it.

W: Yeah, Matt, thanks, appreciate you.

Why Must We Insist Upon Identifying Every Means of Pure Illumination?

I was watching the rising full moon

Searching for answers in the outline of a previous muse

I had something more clever to say

But I lost my words

Perhaps they lost me

I am no longer sure which way the connection circulates

It's as though my circuits have been buried in the foundations of stronger surfaces

The great withdrawal pulls down with the gravity of lesser descriptions

I swallow too deeply for the fact that my mouth is full of nothing but broken teeth

They will build up the scar tissue of a throat already insufficent

They will find their resting place

The fragments of a smile stuck within an organ that feels anything but vital

Is this digestion?

My mouth has become a wasteland and my body insists on impressing that upon others

Welcome to the Midwest

Welcome to guilt by association

I find envy in the zealots that steal Sundays from the sun

Not for the sake of some promised longevity, for I am not built for eternity

Hell, I can barely function enough to survive the idea of immediacy

I push down the plunger and bring life back to these bones

Chasing the remaining reminders of a heart attack that likely hasn't occurred

Or has yet to occur

Depending upon the time you find discernment within my vaguely specific observations

I chase my sight from a digital window to the wild which rises outside the security I could collapse if my recently destroyed passion was truly reborn in passion for destruction

I daydream of arson.

Because we both know if I burn this place to the ground at least it would provide some heat

The landlocked lovers dream of the sea, trading tides for the rise of windswept fields

Salt coats my outline as the winter infiltrates my mind

I am a road far too travelled, without a thought of the composites required to keep the vehicle in motion

I am a postcard decades removed

You find me in the boxes ignored 3 moves over

You pull my memory from the frames, beyond the stale scent of mildew and lost years

Children grew in those times, though my words speak nothing of their incongruence

We are running late for a party we've yet to uninvite ourselves from

I'm watching the bodies dancing within the curtains of a home I cannot claim

Like silhouettes

Like ghosts of a past I will always exist within, as will you.

We force ourselves out of such beautiful breathing patterns as we chase greener expanses

Though we appear to have forgotten that the tone of growth requires liquid saturation to produce the saturated hues we innately desire.

Why should we even be searching for well covered ground?

Wouldn't it be more admirable if we surrounded ourselves with space yet to grow?

To locate not only a space which longs for the progress we daydream of but one which supplies us the ability to produce, and perceive the beauty we are truly responsible for.

Too often we choose to find our repose within the boundaries birthed from the hands of others.

I have no desire to move from something I helped build into falsely absorbing and obsessing over the grounds I never placed a foot upon.

Of course this is not to say I don't understand the significance of other's beauty, or in that understanding that such beauty can erupt amid the same fields that sucked us dry all those humid nights we drowned ourselves in fluids but failed finding any tangible refreshment.

Fill the tables with inclusion

Forgetting that there's a fracture which I can pinpoint in any photo sent my way

Where induced inclusion begins to work in reverse.

We reach such resounding heights, overlooking the fact that one step beyond the peak is an introduction to descent.

We cannot stay on high

Though we must not allow peaks to define our beings

We must not allow, also, the reaction which results from involuntary depletion to do the same.

Digression leads one far from the means of memory

The peeling edges of a card peels back the days

Kitschy coins, coined inside jokes, inside an image I can now only experience in my head

Nicknames, and welcome signs I saw while the world slept in the passenger seat

All held within the sea stretched between the corners of an attraction we overlooked

Existence flips, as the northern wind pushes the summer down below the delineation of cancer.

It separates skin from roadside attractions pristine due to lack of elemental exposure

We see ourselves within these interjections of interstate travel

We are petrified without national recognition.

Fossils yet to truly expire.

Postcards folded into failing envelopes

Reminders of spaces I never shared

We turn over the page, to find a message more fitting with each passing pixel

"I wish I was there."

-Matthew 08/2022

Short Morning Musings on the balance between artistic photography and photography for documentation purposes.

...When I first got into photography on a serious level I was taught how towards the beginning there was a serious battle between the group of individuals that saw this as a means for truly creative artistic expression, and those which saw the camera merely as a tool for the sake of documentation, utilized for scientific means as well as by painters looking to have a physical aid when constructing their masterpieces without being directly in the company of the subject they were re-imagining. For years there was this undeniable division which kept burning between these two worlds, as many swore the camera could never be seen as a true artistic medium, at least not in the same vein as painting/sculpture. Eventually there came a realization, through the assistance of persistent masters, that true creative/aesthetically appealing modes of expression could come from this medium and we cannot deny its rightful place in the artistic world.

Decades then transpired, and while the development of more affordable/accessible cameras, with less reliance on the operator to capture imagery, brought this medium into every home casually scarring the suburban landscape, there was a very clear line between the contemporary minds creating pieces worthy of hanging in the (at times falsely) hollowed hallways of the greatest galleries, and the point-and-shoot master capturing the fuzz of a child's birthday for the sake of saving that moment in a well-placed album we'll revisit in more somber times. I got older and more involved, and the misguided minds and hands of teenage inclusion saw those I shared the darkroom with fall away as they could no longer feign interest in photography beyond the exaggerated mirroring of oneself, which new technology made so immediately available.

Then the technology advanced far beyond the development of the majority of the minds/bodies which now surround us like some pre-mature graveyard, and soon those that lost interest when user error was more impactful, fell back "in love" with the elegant pastime of purchasing a perspective. Because while it's never universal, there's a way which those that lack persistence stay consistent in such an approach, and sometimes technology will turn things in their favor if they simply hold-off long enough.

So we arrive here, where the average individual possesses a level of authentic vision which falls somewhere between color-by-number ethics and the latest pyramid scheme helping stay-at-home moms stay at home. Where we are left to recognize the cycle which we have been suspended within. Where the rising tide of technological development brings back a true division between that which is genuinely art and that which is merely documentation. This is not to debate or compare the worth of these two seemingly opposing sides of the same intangible coin, rather to show that some of us truly feel as if we aren't in this to simply showcase the beauty of mirrored recreation. We aren't looking to make an easily digested depiction which is indistinguishable from the depictions others claim ownership of. For some, this medium quite literally helped keep guns in drawers when they could so easily have received welcome invitation within the rented coffins we once called home. For some it's not about showcasing easily disguised beauty. For some it goes far deeper than finding new ways to expand upon narcissism.

Now I'm well aware there's likely some major flaws in my approach, but sometimes it feels as though I too must defend the true meaning (as I see it) much the same as those individuals I admired for being so passionate about the medium decades before I took a single breath. Perhaps I'm wrong, but I'll forever put my faith in the "mantra" that not all photographers are artists and not all observers are exceptions to that which they openly observe.

For I Am The Siren More Than I Am The Song

...This morning we woke to a blanket of snow covering a slumbering city, or I should say some of us awoke. That snow filled the transition from night to day, but the darkness flooded in long before a single pixel found itself resting along a motionless motor. The snow seems fitting given the time of year, as the tears we've been holding down can no longer be restrained and they have begun to freeze in piles at our feet. And we'll hear claims of the purity such a lack of color represents, but there's none of that to be discovered here. There's nothing comforting about having our breath pulled out from beneath us, because the warmth will surely escape and we'll be left inhaling the frigid cover of a world in slow-motion. Our lungs will fill but I'm not sure they possess an ability to expel that recycled air back into this room. For we pulled in your final scent and are now committing too passionately to the art of holding our breath. We border upon suffocation, but somehow the edge is welcoming. Perhaps sometimes it's good to instill fear within ourselves of ourselves for the sake of recognizing the limits our bodies can withstand. Though those limits are echoing so loudly off these canyon walls which are nothing more than a suburban hallway, however this is the natural world we've grown to accept as our own. The world which convinced us that domestication could appear so wild. I'm not certain where closure comes, but I've been spending my morning attempting to best pinpoint where a circle comes to an end, and while I can pick apart the scars that may stand as defining factors of this division, there's nothing stating that such linework dictates points of weakness. For often the strength recognized in those we've lost is required to help carry so many broken individuals through those moments of absence that will linger far beyond the vast vacancy of a winter straddling the separation of a man-made calendar that keeps filling up with anniversaries we have no desire to celebrate.

Now I can taste the blood filling the space behind my teeth, as a reserved smile of knives digs deep into my jaw to present some level of release, but we've been so focused on that which is pulled out beneath the doorways of these homes that have become nothing more than spaces to house all the demons we convinced ourselves we wouldn't need to converse with so quickly. So I'm stuck revisiting the idea that I'd pull my limbs from their sockets if it would somehow remove from those much stronger than myself the fevers which keep them awake through these days of waning light and reorganized existence. How bittersweet the way the weather patterns appear to mimic the way the human form seems to rush between various planes of understanding. How fleeting we can all become within moments that stand still, within an existence we experience in sequence but recall primarily through stills. We long to bury our bodies within the lasting labor of those classic films, but resolution discovered isn't some idealized storyline. It's a battle reminiscent of those our grandparents outlined within the walls of a home we're all still trying to return to. Oh the warmth of the past, if only we could trade these chills for the comfort of days that feel so close. Days we feel we could reinstate in spite of the fact that we've bent all of our fingers to the backs of our hands, and broken bones aren't much when it comes to carrying the weight of the world. A world that will endlessly refuse to wait for your approval to keep pushing on, to keep presenting to you admirable progression through unshakable heartbreak. In these moments we will begin to discover the way such hours of suffocation births within us a serious desire for destruction, as passion revoked is often reorganized as a real passion for destruction, but we don't desire to pull others beneath the rising tides. So we reserve that destruction for ourselves, inhaling currents for the sake of feeling truly organic motion, swallowing everything we need besides personal solace. Because it's always been easier to push myself below the promising peaks of the waves, to allow the salt to coat my throat until I am nothing more than a mortal lighthouse, a beacon standing to remind you where the edge is drawn, to remind the point where the consoling repose of the open ocean is replaced by the silent threat of submerged mountains showcasing the promise of pinnacles while concealing the valleys necessary to project such heights above the submersion we chemically combat with each new sunrise. For I am the siren more than the song.

And I wish I spoke with more frequency of topics that focus on the radiant points of existence, but it's hard to not feel stationary when the winds have been cut off like the sentences I've filled so many notebooks with. Ideas come to a close, and thoughts find a point of finality, and if life is essentially an abstract series of thoughts that exist separately yet are inexplicably and undeniably connected via wires we pay others to attempt to comprehend, then life too will find a point of completion, and we must embrace this point. We must learn to embrace the beauty of closure even when our palms are burnt by the handles of doors holding up the thresholds we'll never fully pass through.

For while an open, or otherwise unfinished book, presents an immense level of intrigue, we tend to fill the forthcoming pages with details we personally construct, and life isn't meant to be lived in such a manor. Because when we find ourselves too ingrained within organizing the details of a subjectivity exterior to ours we fail to find that fulfillment within our own self-dictated details. So learn to admire the possibilities that align themselves within the absent pages of what is yet to come, but don't fret when you find yourself face to face with the final mark of punctuation. Because while the details may be momentarily concealed from their surroundings, we have an ability to absorb and expand in such fascinating ways, and such tendencies allow even the oldest stories to stay alive in a sense I can't quite understand. Though this fact is no different from any other attempt I've taken to define what that odd balance feels like between being and feeling alive.

The frost seems so much heavier now, how it hangs in my chest through each initial inhalation I pull in as I escape the confines of home and immerse myself in an ever thinning atmosphere. And there will always be those that paint such pretty pictures of the point where the air ends and somehow reforms itself into something a little more solid, but I don't think the air ever ends, rather it simply gets thinner until we no longer possess the ability to differentiate between our own being and the space that being is suspended within. We have yet to reach such heights, however I'm not sure height is the correct means of measurement. For we place so much above ourselves and it causes us to question our worth a bit too passionately. Because there are gaps here which will never be erased, like a bridge burnt to the ground for the sake of reminding us that rushing waves and raging flames often echo just the same. But gaps allow the light to spill into our overly-diagnosed seclusion, and this light will mend us with gold, not for the sake of removing the reminders of where it all fell apart, but to accentuate this scorched earth with a beauty and strength representative of the being which involuntarily caused us to lose grip in that moment that filled the floor with the scattered pieces of what once was whole.

So this year we shall cancel the holidays, and we'll gather the same weekend within hallways pulsing with so many people it'll be impossible not to notice the emptiness, however whether that emptiness exists within us and is being impressed upon our surroundings, or vice versa, is yet to be determined. And I don't believe in ghosts but I feel like one all the same, as I pull teeth out through my sleep, broken like the windows filling the fractioned walls holding up the industrialized side of town that represents my lungs with each heaving hour. These are the moments where we question if we're actually lost or simply have lost any desire to be unearthed from the frozen ground we buried ourselves beneath hoping this unnatural rise in mercury would reorganize the frost into a lake that could swallow us whole. Because we still aren't convinced that if we are truly fluid beings we can't simply submerge ourselves to the point that we become one with the waves. Though perhaps we've been dreaming a bit too feverishly about anything that could carry us from here. Perhaps such thoughts connected to lofty dreams of evaporation is what has me drawing up plans for diving from the depths of the bridges in my hometown, filling amateur postcards with their oncoming absence.

So we shall remember you as a time. As a light. As the light which falls in those magic moments where the sky becomes a painting and we truly understand the undeniable beauty that results from such a resilient entity pushing itself through layers of resistant atmosphere. Because the midday sun coats the city in an even glow, but that light only accentuates the shadows which really hold our attention. For without the resistance of a day racing around to greet the tropics, and without the glory we recognize within the final breath being pulled free from the sails, the sun is nothing more than a hole in a sky we've spent these recent days dreaming of tearing apart.

This need for expression is so strange, for we push the morning fog from our throats and then attempt to document that escaping breath before it simply becomes one with the rising sky. And we run circles round our heads as we interpret the unfurling nature of that which ebbs and flows outside our beings and valiantly venture to find a correlation between that and the flashes within our minds that we've learned to transmit from mere concept to connective actuality. For I do not desire to be the blood pulsing through your veins as much as I long to be the means of carrying that blood and allowing it access to areas previously unnoticed in spite of a continual existence. Because I'm nothing more than a being that strives to explain himself through showcasing the way my actions relate to the actions of existing factions of subjectivity which you already feel you have a grasp on. So we find ourselves surrounded by rooms we don't visit much, enveloped in the stale blue tones of a morning yet to greet the sun. And it will cause us to question whether this darkness signifies that we still have yet to let go of the night before, but the sun need not fill the sky to supply the radiance needed to turn night to day. These moments seem to redistribute strength, but I'm only pulling my fingertips free from my hands for the sake of keeping distance from discernibility. Nails now pushing through the defining line where the flesh begins, but my joints have turned to open wounds and arthritis is beginning to overtake any semblance of personal plasticity. However I'm learning this may be a genetic trait, or some form of adopted habit that those near me picked up in their own past and we now address as some long time familial commitment.

Last night the sky was bruised, but I failed being able to determine if this was a reaction to a new wound or old wounds finally pulling some level of healing to the surface even if only for the sake of showcasing that not all diseases push us through the floor. Now silence is spilling across state lines as it fills all that surrounds me while finding no place within me to rest. Rest is so fickle, for even when I close my eyes I'm unable to pull myself completely free from the confines of a recent reality we will surely revisit once the months begin to pull the heat from the ground and the sun will rise only to illuminate our breath, to showcase our increasing chills with each exposed expulsion of air. Though this year we set the sky on fire. And while we avoided the holidays I was reminded of a past placement perched so purposefully in that frame, but I can't recall who was coloring more outside the lines. We develop connections at a distance and fail to fully act upon that which wires us together, for at times we associate too greatly with the confines of a shared name and we adapt an inability to better access the fact that there would be a means for coming together even without such involuntary traits claiming ownership of our existence.

Now we spend hours speaking words we mean but don't really think of before we let them fall from our throat onto this overly-tread, uninviting carpet that seems to stretch all the way to the ceiling. We'll illuminate this unorganized alphabet as though these rooms aren't only holding the overflow, and we'll keep our back to the crowd as we are the offspring of a generation that learned if you keep your eyes on your demons they cannot come down to pull perspective from the base of your spine. So I find myself in the winter attempting to become one with the absent scenes of empty trees surrounding the skeletal remains of jagged reflections that market the spent breath of industrialized ghosts. Though in these days they pull the relics from my chest for the sake of bringing life back to these temporarily dormant means of inhalation, and I don't have the wherewithal to withstand the oncoming new year winds without the slightest excuse for ornamentation. I've lost the ability to decipher what day it is anymore, for the end of the week is dressed as though it is the bringer of introductions, but it's so skilled at closure it only exaggerates the panic we feel rising in our throats when lost in the purgatory of extended removal.

And I've been so uncertain in my uncertainty in these recent days of record warmth where I still felt chills so deep it made me readdress the space which I possess/disrupt all the same. Because it's so difficult to discover a point where I find comfort in completion. For I fear that such a means of closure will keep me from revisiting this momentum when calendar days shift slightly to match motion with the moon. However I have this peculiar infatuation with the songs which close out all these albums I periodically forget, and such an adoration for the final note, and the beauty that is a caterwaul of sorts fading into the static of silence never ceases me from finding a desire to come back to that initial melody which builds in the first few seconds until falling back to that moment of static. That moment where the silence envelops us and allows our minds to move with a swiftness we'll continually curse for it becomes increasingly apparent, in those moments that the most seductive inspiration arrives, that it tends to come at a rate we cannot fully encapsulate. For the mind moves much faster than our hands ever could match, much as the destruction that falls from the hand of man fails to even compare to the deterioration which fills one's dreams regardless of the time of day one is connected to. Though we must not forget that such drastic desires for destruction can be matched with a compassion so direct it's illegal in several countries. We must not forget that we have a purpose beyond ourselves. While we will watch those we love and abhor fall victim to time, as those that love us will do the same, in the moment we will fight back an inevitable breakdown and tear the tongues from the mouth's of those disengaged hymns for the sake of singing songs of triumph. For the melodies which we share will refuse to focus upon the final place of rest and rather the explosion of passion which eventually led to this splintered excuse for sanctuary perched so perfectly within sight of a childhood we grow further from each day.

(And moments of major loss always create this space where for a moment I find myself immensely envious of those that commit to any real form of religious faction. Not because I personally desire any savior outside myself, my family, my friends, and those that cross over the lines of imaginary division, because I've been down that road and it's surely not for me, but because I envy the comfort they can curate/locate knowing whatever it is they lost will once again be found. Because they hold steadfast to promises of an afterlife, to beliefs that we will end up in a better space, but I fail to find, through a means of removal, any true reason to feel as if where we now reside is nothing more than a waiting room for something greater. If we were all truly just awaiting something greater, some massive eternity where all that has been continues on in some similar sense, then I fail to understand the true significance behind this reality we're all suspended within. For in my opinion, there's little significance that I derive from anything deemed universal/unending. Besides, if by chance there is no true eternity we all share in free from the blemishes of modern existence, doesn't that just make this conscious reality far more important, doesn't it make these interactions that much deeper? When we were children we we're taught that all dogs go to heaven, but what's to say that this heaven is not represented by the space they currently reside within and share with us in a very tangible sense? What's to say we must hold out for the beauty of longevity when we can create ideas that possess a similar longevity/level of beauty in our present existence? Think of all you have in life, the lovers, the leaders, the left behind. Think of all the art, and music, and true beauty we get to immerse ourselves in, and think of how easily your consciousness could have fallen somewhere else along the timeline, somewhere far less fitting. And if a faith-based fate is not responsible for bringing this all together, does that not make all of this immeasurably more endearing? I have no desire to negate someone's chosen beliefs, and I'm not intending to challenge them, but if all of this is truly the result of reactions to organic actions unfolding for centuries, then I believe that is far more alluring/intriguing than anything any book could attempt to define. But this really isn't supposed to be connected to religion, or so focused on it, and I will never desire to fall in line with these factions of faith, but sometimes I just wish I could pull out pieces from it for the sake of finding some solace in sections of existence occupied by an absence even I don't welcome. Then again, I know if I did find myself in such a position than I would likely start to lose grip on the true level to which I should embrace the connections I've discovered/built within this confusing suspension, and that's nothing I need, for I have issues with personal withdrawal as it is. Now I know nothing is experienced universally and so our perspectives will vary, and I appreciate that, so please don't see my shared views as an attempt to take anything away from yours, for I'm simply attempting to sort my thoughts through a caterwauling morning. Turn away from the TV today Ignore the proceedings of politicians that don't care about you Create art Create love Create connection that does not rely on shared disgust to stay afloat Put yourself out there in ways you fear and dream of much the same Be vulnerable Be present Just Be Because sometimes that's a lot harder to do than we'd be led to believe. I'd like to take this final moment to just say how much I truly do adore having the ability to share in all of this confusion with so many, even when my mind/mouth doesn't transmit that, and if you take anything from this, please just give all your love as purely as possible, because you need it, and we need it, and the world needs it.)

Abstract Conceptual Photography Comes to Wartburg (Published 11-06-2017)

Abstract Conceptual Photography Comes to Wartburg

WILLCOONRADT STAFF WRITER

william.coonradt@wartburg.edu

The viewer should be able to interpret abstract artwork however they please, artist Matthew Terry

said.

The Wartburg College Art Gallery hosted Terry on Nov. 3. The exhibit features his abstract conceptual photography stretching back to late 2013 to early 2014. “I enjoy the process of doing all the hand-held images, I just like how hands on it is and how detailed it makes me have to become,” Terry said.

Terry enjoys this style of art due to the nature of abstract artwork. He said when the art is presented, the viewer then has the opportunity to come in and interpret it however they please. “I try to find scenes where you can see a clear difference between the original shot and the present day,” Terry said. “I try to let a couple months pass but sometimes it’s a couple years.”

As a regionally based photographer, a lot of Terry’s photos are recognizable to the students and faculty of Wartburg, Gallery Director and Exhibitions Manager Johanna Kramer-Weston said. “He’s a young up and coming artist,” Kramer-Weston said. “I am excited to give him this opportunity.”

“Keep yourself persistent,” Terry said. “There will be ups and downs and points where you completely question what you’re doing.” “Once you keep yourself passionate about what you’re doing and when you can get past those low points when the higher points come around it’s a lot more impactful,” Terry said. Terry can typically be found doing two to four exhibits each year.

An Interview With The Artist (Interviewed by Eboni Fields)

An Interview With The Artist (Interviewed by Eboni Fields a Fine Art Photography Major at the Savannah College of Art and Design)

1. Was photography your first career choice growing up?

I wouldn't say it was my initial goal, as I feel like everyone has various dreams/career goals at a young age that are never too serious. With that said, I was introduced to 35mm Film Photography when I was a sophomore in high school, and after a semester in the dark room I was hooked. After that I had toyed occasionally with going into Literature/Journalism, but photography was always the main goal/commitment.

2. Are all of your photographs taken in Iowa? If not, where else?

They certainly are not. The area I live at in Iowa, referred to as The Quad Cities, sits is along the Mississippi River and is made up of cities both on the Iowa and Illinois side of the river. So while I do live in Davenport (Iowa), I spend a lot of time in Illinois shooting as well. I also have created work from trips to Minnesota, Wisconsin, and California, but those images don't make up the majority of my work/current projects.

3. Can you tell me about any current projects you are working on?

Well I currently have 3 major projects that I work on and exhibit, outside of my minimalist street photography pieces, which don't tend to fall into a particular project.

A. "Revisiting Past Exposures" is my longest running project and it was developed while I was a Junior in college, eventually becoming my Senior project and my most widely exhibited work. This project involves printing out old photos I've shot, then revisiting the location and attempting to line up the original print with the current scene. This is done as a way to document the passage of time, the comparison between the past/present, showcasing the way the mind creates an image of a place/time in your mind and sometimes revisiting that allows you to see how the past and present may not align as smoothly as you once thought.

B. "In The Waiting Room (Somewhere Between Clarified Well-Being and Cognitive Dissonance)." This is my most recent project, but also the one that hits closest to home. This project revolves around the abstracts of dealing with various forms of mental health/mental illness. This is something that long influenced my expression and need to express myself in the beginning, so I wanted to use my art as a way to connect to individuals dealing with similar issues, as a result helping all involved feel a little less alone/disconnected, and hopefully helping to remove some of the stigma tied to such issues.

C. My final project, "Reconstructing The Rise of Asymmetrical Skylines" is my most abstract/non-traditional project, as I've long tried to avoid as much post-production as possible in my work. This project focuses on abandoned buildings, or various forms of architecture, either mid-destruction or mid-construction, and then through some editing/mirroring in Photoshop I create symmetrical pieces akin to a Rorschach blot test. Through this I aim to create a continuity and flow from segments of society that seems discarded/in a state of disarray.

4. I noticed on your website that you shoot in both black&white and color, do you have preference? why not just one or the other?

Without question I have a stronger preference towards B&W, and for the first few years of my photography I worked only in B&W. I was really drawn to the contrast of black and white imagery, and felt color was more of a distraction than anything else. It actually wasn't until I was required to take a color photography course in college that I began to embrace color work. That being said I still find myself more drawn to black and white pieces, though I am very drawn to blues and have a strong affinity for color work that prominently features primary color schemes.

5.What is your thought process through your projects?

I think that was outlined pretty well when explaining my projects, but it changes based on the project. I've gotten really good at pre-planning my shots for weeks or months before hand, however when I get out and shoot there's almost a subconscious second nature that takes over and I often find myself looking back over images afterwards almost unaware in the moment exactly what I captured, if that makes sense. I'm more than aware of what I'm attempting to create, but in the moment there's not always an aggressive level of focus. I find too much pressure placed in the moment makes for less organic imagery.

6. Which photographers influence you?

If I had to pick my biggest influence overall it would undoubtedly be Kenneth Josephson. Though I am also a major fan of Michael Kenna, Francesca Woodman, Andres Gursky and Robert Capa. Josephson's influence is clear, and his ties to the Chicago/Midwestern photo scene has always drawn me to his work. While Francesca Woodman has been a major influence on my more recent works revolving around Mental Health, though I've studied her work for years.

I also find a lot of inspiration from Minimalism and Street Photography, but I wouldn't pin that down to a single artist as much as the movement as a whole.

7. What technology do you use? software/cameras/etc.

I've only ever owned Canon cameras, and from my first days in film photography they are what I've always worked with. Currently when shooting digitally I primarily shoot with a Canon 60D, though I may be upgrading next year. I do work with film photography still, and when I do I tend to use a Canon AE-1. I also have a mixture of Canon lenses. As far as software I use Photoshop, and occasionally Lightroom/Bridge. I try to do as little post-production as possible when working with (most of) my projects.

8. Have you ever been "stuck" not knowing where to go or what to do next? If so, how did you get "unstuck"?

I have been stuck on several occasions, and I feel it's a very common experience in the art world. Motivation is seldom universal, and sometimes it doesn't arrive during the most opportune times. For me I have found it's beneficial to have several projects to focus on. Having multiple outlets allows me to not feel so discouraged when I come to a roadblock with one of my projects, as I know I can leave it for a bit and return to it refreshed. Though I know not all people operate as such, having a desire, if not need, to have their hands in many separate ideas simultaneously. I also find it to be helpful to just grab my camera and wander, seeing what I can find. When I started shooting 15 years ago that was what I was always doing, so it's almost a way of getting back to where it all began and that tends to reinvigorate me.

9. What keeps you motivated?

Simply put a need and desire for progress, a need/desire to connect with others, and proving to myself that I can stay persistent and go beyond any previous personally-constructed limitations/doubts. Coming from Iowa, an area about as removed from the world of Fine Art as one can be, I've always felt like I had something to prove or fight against. Showcasing the artistic beauty and expressive authenticity that can grow from seemingly vacant areas, and using my art as a way to be the voice/vision I needed in my youth also help keep me motivated and moving forward.

10. What are your top goals as a fine art photographer?

I've actually surpassed a lot of my goals I set for myself in my college years, but at this point my major goal is to be able to exhibit my work on a level where I no longer have to work a day job in addition to my fine art career. I am currently working in a photographic position, so it could be worse, but to "quit the day job" to focus only on my art I think is the big tangible goal.

My other continual goal, in a perceptually-based sense, is to showcase imagery which evokes a level of detachment subtle enough for most people to connect with and through that connection prove on a perceptual level just how related we actually are.