Crushing Krisis

The Newest Oldest Blog In New Zealand

Archives for May 2008

Arcati Crisis, Live @ Saxbys

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On Friday Gina and I ventured out to Abington for Arcati Crisis‘s second outing as headliners at a Saxbys Coffee.

We arrived with a car full of equipment (and Elise) at 7:00 p.m. on the nose to be greeted with a modern, comfortable shop in the capable hands of manager Matthew and barista extraordinaire Becca. Saxbys Abington is located in its own lot, adjoining a Peace A Pizza, which is fourth on my list of consistently favorite pizza, behind La Rosa, Franco & Luigi’s, and – improbably – Powelton.

(Somehow I did not come home with a pizza, possibly owing to knowing how stuffed I would become at the impending Sunday wedding.)

As we briefed Matthew and Becca on our own extensive barista experience they let us move all manner of comfy chairs and high-end stereo equipment to accommodate our PA system and microphones, to only slightly curious stares from the existing patrons. We were tickled to see that Matthew had made a special “music at Saxbys” advertising mat with our promo shot on it, and he further won his way into our hearts by plying us with free caffeinated beverages.

Without describing each minute detail of our set, I can summarize the night thusly:

(1) Arcati Crisis rehearse in an informal, chatty manner (even in the midst of playing songs), so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that we deliver some of our best performances in the same fashion.

(2) We are much better at playing cover songs than we give ourselves credit for, as long as we count them in correctly.

Over the course of our mammoth 90-minutes of play time we turned in some surprisingly great takes of our own songs, especially our oldies: a very controlled “Real End” and a randomly awesome “Under My Skin.” I also think we nailed our catchiest trio – “What’ll I Say,” “Hyperbole,” and “Fisher Price.”

As for covers, “In My Life” was made all the more lovely for the fact that we had only ever sung it together once before, and “With or Without You” is a testament to how far we’ve come vocally since we last performed it together – in 2001. And, we finally debuted “High and Dry,” after over a year of playing it at rehearsals.

Despite the beautiful weather the shop never entirely filled up, but we played to a fun range of people, including a foursome having a spirited informal meeting, a family passing through after karate practice, and a charming trio of teen girls who actually requested The Beatles, of all things.

(The latter were so nice that I may have promised to learn a Jonas Brothers song for them for our next appearance in June.)

It was altogether a wonderful gigging experience – gracious hosts in a charming shop, us seamlessly running our own sound, and a curious blend of customers who each needed individual charming in order to stick around for more of our set.

We’re looking forward to our return on Friday, June 27, bolstered by our dear friend and top-notch support act Lindsay Wilhelmi.

I, only half-jokingly, have threatened to subsequently engage in a national Saxbys tour in tribute to Hedwig’s run of Bilgewater Restaurants in the film of Angry Inch. We might just start with playing in some of their other local locales, such as a brand new Temple University shop.

Lineup and links for There’s a Stage on My Lawn!

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If you are free on Saturday between 2 p.m. and 11 p.m. I hope you’ll be at There’s a Stage on My Lawn! in Yardley, PA, presented by Lyndzapalooza. And, if you can’t come I encourage you to to pass the word along to another music lover in your life.

There’s a Stage on My Lawn features fourteen amazing, independent, local artists. They’ve all been busting their asses for the past year to rock better and harder than ever before … evolving from coffee shops to open mics to underbills to featured shows.

I’m honestly a fan of our entire bill – I’m still not sure how we got so lucky as to gather them all in one place, but I promise you that the opportunity to see them all together is fleeting. And, it’s certainly not going to happen again for just $12.

I am as proud as I can possibly be to be an organizer of and an artist in this amazing event. It’s going to be good, and it’s going to be fun, and I wish every local music fan could be a part of it. Check out the music of our artists below, and then head to TicketLeap for more info & pre-sale or reserved tickets.

Geoff Ednie – Former acapella staple plays a mix of crowd-pleasing covers and originals influenced by the Beatles, Alice in Chains, and Phish.

Bevin Caulfield – Smokey-voiced darling of rooms like Tin Angel and The Fire. Lots of classic soul influences make her stand out in a crowd. (Watch)

Arcati Crisis – My band! Harmony-filled boy/girl acoustic pop from a pair of life-long best friends. Sounds like Rilo Kiley crossed with the Indigo Girls. (Listen) (Watch)

Old Man Cactus – A great band we shared the bill with at Tin Angel. Inspired by a who’s who of 70s singer-songwriters, they come off like an acoustic, bluesy version of Maroon 5. (Watch solo)

Brian Flannagan – A surprisingly gentle, folky sound from this former producer and drummer.

Lindsay Wilhelmi – LP’s founder writes unshakably catchy original tunes, and plays covers from Jewel, the Recipe, and 4 Non Blondes.

Ben Guez – Golden-throated classical singer dissects songs from unlikely sources, like classic rock, or even the Pixies, and also slips in his own infectious originals.

John Glaubitz – Original, solo modern-rock from an accomplished guitar player. A one-man Warped tour. (Listen)

Enter the Rooms – This band is hot. Incredible local alternative rockers can grab your attention acoustic or electric. A riffier Coldplay? Not sure, but they never disappoint. (Music Video)

Jesse Schurr – Tiny, local yoga instructor typically fronts an acoustic funk four-piece, but will play stripped down versions of her rhythmic tunes for us. (Watch)

Irene Molloy – Lilting, country-tinged folk-pop that would be right at home on XPN, from the star of TV sitcoms Grosse Point and Andy Richter Controls the Universe.

Da 1 – Solo MC/songwriter describes his primary influences as Jimi Hendrix and Jay-Z, and lives up the to hype with his guitar shredding and vocal hooks. (Watch)

Just Like Me – Young band from Temple plays engaging, challenging rock music. Some hear a Radiohead/Tool influence, but others cite Pink Floyd. Either way, a great band. (Listen)

Dante Bucci – Hypnotic original compositions on the hang drum, a bell-like percussion instrument. You’ve never seen anything like it! (Watch/Listen)

A Stage On Our Lawn, pt. 4

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It’s our first meeting in January, and Lyndzapalooza (LP) is stuck in a bind.

We had thrown an event the third Saturday of every May for five years, and we already spread the word that people should expect a sixth edition. But, as we sadly informed the sales rep at our awesome potential location, we simply didn’t have enough lead-time to raise the cash or audience support to head out to a farm,

Even if we didn’t throw an event on a farm, we had to throw something. We couldn’t afford to forfeite our established festival date – we’d run the risk of losing whatever brand value and tradition we had built to-date.

We couldn’t just throw a Spring Mixer – it would seem like a letdown after last year’s huge spring event. At the same time, we couldn’t just go back to the same-old house party – not just because we actually had a business model now, but because we promised everyone (ourselves included) that we would evolve.

So: bigger than a mixer, smaller than a farm festival, and fundamentally different than our previous spring concerts.

What would that be, exactly?

We mulled and brainstormed, poked and prodded, but ultimately it was Lindsay who came up with the answer.

So, I was thinking, if we’re doing it in Yardley again we should have an actual stage – like, build a stage – so that it feels more like a real music festival. And then I thought, you could just walk out of the house and say, “hey, there’s a stage on my lawn!” So. why don’t we just call it “There’s a Stage on My Lawn!”?

Or, something like that.

As soon as the event was named we compiled our dream-list of artists and Dante started reaching out to them to see if they could play.

We nailed down two bands to anchor the lineup – the universally-adored Jesse Schurr Band and Radiohead v. Tool young rockers Just Like Me. From there we filled out the rest of the set with some local songwriters breaking through at local venues and radio (Bevin Caulfield and Irene Molloy), a handful of our favorite open mic acts (Da1 and Brian Flannagan), some emerging voices on the scene (Ben Guez and our founder Lindsay Wilhelmi), as well as some perennial favorites like our friends Jon Glaubitz and Geoff Ednie, the hypnotic hang drumming of Dante Bucci, and good ol’ harmony-laden Arcati Crisis – all tied together by the talents of improv comedy veteran Matt Lydon as emcee.

With a title and a lineup in place the other details came together with alarming efficiency, including a list of firsts for our event: official staff t-shirts; volunteers with specific assignments; full-day photo and video coverage; grilled food for sale; a constructed stage complete with scrim; a professional light hang; and independent vendors, including body-painting and airbrushing from our amazingly talented friend Jennifer Vessels.

Lindsay and I marveled to each other that we had six other pairs of hands to assist in our traditional duties, and how it freed us to go above and beyond what we had done in past years. Lindsay had the opportunity to design a beautifully detailed logo, and I spent weeks writing copy for our various websites and interviewing our artists.

But, well, you know what they say about the best laid plans. Just Like Me had a time restriction that kept them segregated to the first half of the schedule, and Jesse Schurr would be appearing sans band due to schedule conflicts. Suddenly it was anchors-away for our lineup, and we were afraid the lack of bands would be disappointing to our audience.

In past years this sort of thing would completely railroad us, but here we were prepared. We had already put out early feelers to two of my absolutely favorite local bands – Enter the Rooms and Old Man Cactus – and it took only a week to secure them both. In that same week Just Like Me eliminated their time crunch, leaving us with an intensely packed lineup of amazing music.

That brings us to present day. The festival kicks off in exactly 36-hours, and I am a wired blend of enthusiasm and anxiety. We’ve done five festivals, three open mics, and a mixer, but this is the first time the full force of our organization and branding is on the line.

Success isn’t too far from our grasp. We are featuring fourteen amazing artists, and even if they each only bring a handful of audience members we’ll have quite a crowd when you also include general fans, perennial guests, plus volunteers and directors.

It isn’t hard to imagine us topping a hundred attendees, and we’d all be thrilled to see that happen – thrilled for the exposure for our artists, thrilled for the support, and thrilled that we are that much closer to the farm festival we’re so eager to throw in 2009.

That’s the story of Lyndzapalooza’s There’s a Stage on My Lawn! Hopefully I’ve given you some insight into how much behind-the-scenes work has gone into our sixth annual festival, although I can’t approach detailing all of the personal effort that each of our directors and volunteers have put into the planning of the event.

If you’re in Philadelphia on Saturday you should come to our festival. You can purchase or reserve tickets on the web at TicketLeap, or just grab driving directions and pay at the door. The closest train station is the R3 Yardley stop, which is three miles from the festival. If you’re stuck for a ride please leave a comment and I’ll find a way to get you to us.

I’ll be back with one more post with links to the music of everyone on our lineup. But, if I’m going to be using power-tools in eight hours I should probably get some sleep.

A Stage On Our Lawn, pt. 3

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Fall 2007. Lyndzapalooza (LP) had a survey of audience preferences, and we had a mission statement.

Both seemed like tremendous accomplishments as we toiled at them, but they were dwarfed by our next task: building a bigger, better music festival.

First we needed to find a place to host it.

As with many of our problems, it started out seeming relatively benign. We needed a big, open, outdoor space that could host an all day concert. Surely we could drive out of the city and ask any farm on the block to host us.

Right?

If you said yes, you would be exactly naive as I was last fall.

An outdoor concert venue needs to want to be visited by a bunch of music-loving strangers. It must have ample and accessible electricity, and either an existing stage infrastructure or a willingness to have one built.

Those are just the basics. What about lighting? Bathrooms? Parking? Security? Alcohol? Trash disposal?

I can’t take an iota of credit for this step in our development – it was lead by a phalanx of our most people-persons: Lindsay, Amanda and Jem, and my partner in Arcati Crisis, Gina.

First, They developed criteria for a venue – everything from price to sound ordinances, from capacity to garbage disposal. Next, they wrote a script for their outreach calls. Then they compiled an exhaustive list of possible venues, sometimes drawing from the experiences of other local festivals. Finally, they started making calls.

It was at this point we started to learn something special about music promotions at a local level – something that stood in complete opposition to our team of directors: there are very few Type A personalities doing this sort of thing. Not a lot of call-backers, list-makers, and go-getters, aside from the eight of us.

As my anecdotal example, I witnessed Gina conduct a 20-minute phone call with one venue, most of which was comprised of an argument about the ideal number of bands to feature on a bill for a one day festival, during which her counterpart on the other side of the line may have smoked an entire joint. Possibly two.

In the midst of lacking follow-ups and incomprehensible burnouts we finally found one farm where someone had their shit together and, as luck would have it, the farm itself was awesome. An appropriate size for our event, multiple stages, places to camp, and a snack shack. Lindsay put together an animated (literally) presentation to show all of the capabilities of the site.

Here we hit upon an issue.

Even in conversations with the burnouts we established early on that booking a farm would cost somewhere in the area of $2000, and that didn’t include any associated costs, like mixing equipment, lighting, and garbage disposal.

We were trying to evolve from a backyard party with under a hundred guests to a huge musical festival, but we’d have to charge 100 guests more than $30 a ticket just to break even. It’s a steal for eight or more hours of live music, but it’s a lot to ask after five years of being a house party with kegs and a donation jar.

As we mulled that over we managed to reach a decision point on another aspect of our evolution: we realized that we definitely wanted to become a non-profit organization.

We were eight people holding regular meetings, collecting dues, and planning events. We needed some sort of business model, and not one of us seemed to feel that a commercial one would fit. It was clear that we were in this for the love of music and the development of the community, and becoming recognized as a non-profit organization had the added bonuses of allowing us to collect donations in a legitimate, tax-exempt way, and minimizing our own personal legal and financial risks.

As if the farm price tag wasn’t daunting enough, the non-profit angle increased our need to fundraise … the state and federal process involves lots of fun paperwork and official seals, many of which cost money, and all of which benefit from oversight by actual legal counsel.

Our twin problems of raising cash and drumming up audience support intersected at a common solution – we needed to present more “off-season” events. They would help us build capital, and also reel in a regular (and hopefully increasing) audience.

Just like that we conceived of Winter Mixer, a low-key show with five bands, wine, and cheese. The goal? Spend hardly any money, present awesome bands, and reel in new audience members.

We planned the show stealthily in less than two months, an it was a great success. We made over and above the profits we were aiming for, which was cause for celebration in the short term. Yet, the farm was still outside of our reach, both budgetarily and promotionally.

What were we to do?

I have at least one more chapter of this story for you, which I hope I have the time to squeak out before I head to Yardley to help build our stage. Until then, you can purchase or reserve tickets on the web at TicketLeap. If you like independent songwriters and bands you’ll definitely love There’s a Stage on My Lawn!

After these messages…

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Today I woke up early so I could go to work early so I could get stuff done early so I could go to a press check and, ultimately, leave early.

After said early departure I engaged in a four-mile marathon walk past and through every hip men’s clothing shop in the entirety of center city Philadelphia, in search of my Lyndzapalooza outfit.

This is a time-honored tradition stretching back to 2003, when I wore my brand new orange sneakers to the first event and got them hopelessly dingy climbing up and down from our stage AKA neighbor’s elevated backyard.

Anywho, the trek, it was long. Every store is selling the same ugly men’s clothing right now, except for Diesel, which is selling fucking uglier men’s clothing. What I really wanted was a Flash t-shirt … well, no, what I really wanted was a Cheetara shirt and a Wonder Woman shirt, but in the midst of writing like 20k unique words over the past month I forgot to order them, which initiated this whole sad hunt. Eventually I found what could be my new favorite piece of clothing (only, mine is green).

Late in the game I dragged my ass the length of South Street, now quite sweating underneath my favorite suit, and increasingly parched. I bypassed mucho de Starbucks to hit one of my few favorite indie coffee shops, Java Company, on 4th and South.

As I ordered my iced soy chai latte (one of my few truly yuppie vices) I overhead a conversation:

“Rip Torn?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he was in Clue

And, now, make sure you are picturing this correctly. I am at my most corporate, in my best suit, and also sweating to death and in running shoes trailing shopping bags, and I whip my head around and say the following:

“Um, are you talking about Clue, the movie? Because Rip Torn is not in Clue. Clue starred Martin Mull as Colonel Mustard, Christopher Lloyd as Professor Plum, Michael McKean as Mr. Green, Leslie Ann Warren as Ms. Scarlet, Madeline Kahn as Mrs. White, Eileen Brennan as Ms. Peacock, Colleen Camp as Yvette, and Lee Ving as Mr. Body.”

(Actually, it took me one or two tries to get it all out in a string, because I was getting the McKean’s name tangled, and also because I kept getting distracted by 20 ounces of iced chai latte sitting in front of me, but that was the gist of it.)

Absolutely dumbfounded at my sudden outburst, one of the men from the original conversation replied.

“And Tim Curry.”

“Yes,” I acknowledged, exasperated that he even felt the need to point this out, “and featuring Tim Curry, also as Mr. Body.”

At this point the entire coffee shop, and some children outside, are all staring at me.

“It’s my favorite movie.”

The men stared back at me, their dumbfounded faces slowly melting into a wash of pity and revulsion in reaction to my savant-like obsession with the film.

“Um, yeah. Funny how it’s a movie, but it’s a board game.”

“Yeah, my brother loved that board game. We watched it, like, a dozen times.”

“I’m going to go in the back and look it up on IMDB. I think Rip Torn was in it.”

“Yeah, I think he was.”

I turned, finally, to retrieve my drink, and received a conspiratorial wink from my barista.

“I love that movie. I thought it was so funny when I was a kid, and now when I see it I catch all these different jokes.”

Sensing she was on my side I chose not to delve into a treatise on the obliquely scatological and intensely political humor of the film.

“Yeah, it’s actually pretty subversive.”

Now completely dehydrated and about to crumble into a dusty mix of my constituent non-H20 molecules, I paid for my drink and left.

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And that is why it is after 1 a.m. and my heart is beating about as fast as a hamster’s.

A Stage On Our Lawn, pt. 2

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Let’s see, where did we leave off?

It’s August, 2007. Lyndzapalooza (LP) has a Board of Directors, a to-do list over a hundred lines long, and isn’t planning on having another festival for nine months.

It was a strange position to be in – all of this person-power, tons of bright ideas, and nothing tangible on the horizon for an entire pregnancy worth of time.

Yet, if we really wanted to evolve, LP had to be about more than just the tangible. We started three parallel initiatives that would help us understand our roles and what we were trying to accomplish as an organization.

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The first task – a communications survey – was primarily my job.

It sounds like such a dorky task, and… well… if you’re not me maybe it is dorky. But, it was also crucially important, because in our post-mortem we realized that we didn’t know all that much about the LP audience, other than that they liked music.

What sort of music did they like? How frequently did they go out to see it? Did they enjoy Lyndzapalooza, or just come out of some sense of duty?

I spent a month working with the Board to devise a incisive list of questions that participants could whiz through in twelve minutes or less. I did a competitive analysis of survey services. I coded all of the answers so Lindsay could make groovy charts out of them.

We learned a lot about our audience. They wanted even more genres of music – especially classic rock! They liked to buy drinks and t-shirts, but they were mostly interested in music. And, they were open to coming to more than one of our shows every year.

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The second task we undertook together, because it was about defining LP and defining ourselves: we needed a mission statement, and job titles!

A mission statement was of key importance to us. “Lyndzapalooza” had always been synonymous with “birthday party,” even though it was really only that for the first year or two of its life. Yet, even at the Evolve festival we kept hearing “happy birthday Lindsay” from the bands – even bands who were new to the festival! We needed to attached a firm definition to the evolved LP, or else it would always just be a birthday party.

After some deliberation we arrived – quite unanimously – at the following

Lyndzapalooza celebrates diverse music, creative community, and equal-opportunity expression.

It’s not a typical mission statement, I suppose. It doesn’t come right out and say “presenting new music to audiences.” But, LP has never really been just that. It’s been about bringing together a staggeringly wide range of musicians and fans together to enjoy music. And I think the statement definitely says that.

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The third task was planning our first farm-based music festival, and tomorrow I’ll tell you how we got from there to having a stage on our lawn, rather in in our cornfield.

Until then, you can purchase or reserve tickets on the web at TicketLeap. And, trust me, you’re never going to get a chance to see these fourteen artists on a single lawn ever again.