Over the past few weeks, I've shared quite a bit of upbeat, groove-oriented music. Even the marginally somber entry for September 11th from artists Mike Ladd and Vijay Iyer contained a fair share of playfulness, syncopated vocal phrasing, and subtle but palpable beats and grooves.
Being lulled by musical bliss into a shiny happy mood left me ill-prepared for my immersion in a melancholic, heart-achy gem from my past, and how this LP would affect my demeanor over the several days following its 'excavation.' Legato Grace's self-released LP 'Welcome to Pleasantville' is a record that holds personal significance. The artists who made the work were acquaintances of mine and, though the connection was brief, our fleeting acquaintanceship came at an extremely turbulent, vividly 'hazy,' and altogether exhilarating time in my life.
For me, the album and the principal artists who made it would forever be connected to the Victoria Arms Apartments on South Hobart Ave in the Koreatown neighborhood of L.A. The time was 1999, and I had just moved to Koreatown myself, to a historical landmark called the Evanston Apartments on Kenmore Ave, directly across from the erstwhile Ambassador Hotel, former home of the Rat Pack's Cocoanut Grove Nightclub, and the scene of Robert F. Kennedy's 1968 assassination. The Evanston is about a 15-20 minute walk from the Victoria Arms. And despite the relatively roughshod nature of Koreatown circa 1999 (moderate levels of gang activity, random crime, etc), I customarily made the urban hike, usually after dark, over to Victoria Arms to hang with my actor buddy, Craig Cray.
Cray was fond of calling the rundown, 1920s-30s era 5-floor apartment building, a type that is so common in K-Town, 'Chelsea West,' after the notorious Chelsea Hotel in New York, for its similarly eclectic, artsy, and somewhat volatile collection of characters who resided there. Believe me, it was an apt characterization. Many a late night/early morning was spent on the Victoria rooftop, which was technically closed to all roof traffic at all times, resident and guest alike. Haphazard, ramshackle, spontaneous, ragtag congregations of neighborhood stragglers, hardscrabble residents, and their sometimes shady guests were not uncommon. Political arguments were had, voices were raised, music was played, liquids were imbibed, and altercations were narrowly averted.
The gallery of characters included fast-talking Boston Bukowski Bob and his dysfunctional relationship with his sometime-buddy, Richard the Raging Basque; Irish Allie and his Dublin crew; Rolando the Latino; Jonesy the Painter and Busty Bartendress, Paul Sanchez the Roving Reporter, Craig Cray, and yours truly. Most of these cats were either Victoria Arms residents, or guests of the denizens of the notably melodramatic 5th floor.
The Victoria Arms was very aptly named. It did feel like an armed camp at times! So many adversarial and belligerent situations, bordering on outlaw--it's a miracle no one ended up in the clink, or worse. I can assure you that the picture you see below is NOT how I remember it; in fact, it was sold some years back, sanitized, and the name changed to the completely non-combative, antiseptic blandness now known as the 'Victoria Apartments.' Ah, the march of progress!
Canadians Steven Dall and Cheryl Genyk, whom I came to know ever-so-briefly as the duo behind Legato Grace, lived together on that same notorious 5th Floor. In all, I must have met Cheri only once or twice, and Steve perhaps 4-5 times. I happened to hang out on that very same rooftop with Steve, maybe even once during daylight hours, to share a beer during a chance encounter. Steve and Cray and I also chilled in Cray's apartment a couple of times, drinking beers and musing on life in L.A., but mostly, bullshitting about music. Steve had just self-released the Legato Grace LP and was playing gigs in L.A. and the surrounding area to support its launch, and his and Cheri's broader aspirations as viable recording and performing artists.
I remember Steve giving Cray a handful of CDs to distribute. I had been a bit too polite in front of Steve to suggest I take one home for a listen. Farewells were given. The chill session ended, unceremoniously.
A few weeks later, upon my return to 527 S. Hobart, I learned from Cray that Steve and Cheri had shoved off for New York, L.A. firmly in their rear view mirror. I hoped their move would be all that they dreamed, but had my skepticism, upon hearing from Cray that the two were undergoing serious 'relationship challenges.' It sounded dire, at best. Yet could they still attain musical nirvana and retain their musical partnership amidst the romantic turmoil, à la Fleetwood Mac perhaps?
For years, I had no answers to that question. What I did have were two copies of 'Welcome to Pleasantville,' that Cray had given to me right after Steve and Cheri left. I kept one for myself and ended up giving the other to a fellow musician friend of mine. I listened to that LP quite often over the following year or so, and then, gradually, it faded to the nether recesses of my CD flip book. Remember those?
Circa 2007, I reached deep into my CD archives and uploaded the CD to my shiny new MacBook and companion iPod. I scoured Myspace looking for what musical fate and/or fortune had brought Steve and Cheri, but to no avail. They were nowhere to be found in cyberspace. In addition, Cray had long since lost all touch with them.
'Welcome to Pleasantville' is now ensconced in my iTunes folder, but has rarely graced my playlist in recent years. I've been far more immersed in electronica, rock, jazz, and other musical styles and moods than in the more rootsy, pastoral, confessional of the singer-songwriter set, though I still count that sound as a solid foundation of my own musical fabric since childhood.
Being lulled by musical bliss into a shiny happy mood left me ill-prepared for my immersion in a melancholic, heart-achy gem from my past, and how this LP would affect my demeanor over the several days following its 'excavation.' Legato Grace's self-released LP 'Welcome to Pleasantville' is a record that holds personal significance. The artists who made the work were acquaintances of mine and, though the connection was brief, our fleeting acquaintanceship came at an extremely turbulent, vividly 'hazy,' and altogether exhilarating time in my life.
For me, the album and the principal artists who made it would forever be connected to the Victoria Arms Apartments on South Hobart Ave in the Koreatown neighborhood of L.A. The time was 1999, and I had just moved to Koreatown myself, to a historical landmark called the Evanston Apartments on Kenmore Ave, directly across from the erstwhile Ambassador Hotel, former home of the Rat Pack's Cocoanut Grove Nightclub, and the scene of Robert F. Kennedy's 1968 assassination. The Evanston is about a 15-20 minute walk from the Victoria Arms. And despite the relatively roughshod nature of Koreatown circa 1999 (moderate levels of gang activity, random crime, etc), I customarily made the urban hike, usually after dark, over to Victoria Arms to hang with my actor buddy, Craig Cray.
Cray was fond of calling the rundown, 1920s-30s era 5-floor apartment building, a type that is so common in K-Town, 'Chelsea West,' after the notorious Chelsea Hotel in New York, for its similarly eclectic, artsy, and somewhat volatile collection of characters who resided there. Believe me, it was an apt characterization. Many a late night/early morning was spent on the Victoria rooftop, which was technically closed to all roof traffic at all times, resident and guest alike. Haphazard, ramshackle, spontaneous, ragtag congregations of neighborhood stragglers, hardscrabble residents, and their sometimes shady guests were not uncommon. Political arguments were had, voices were raised, music was played, liquids were imbibed, and altercations were narrowly averted.
The gallery of characters included fast-talking Boston Bukowski Bob and his dysfunctional relationship with his sometime-buddy, Richard the Raging Basque; Irish Allie and his Dublin crew; Rolando the Latino; Jonesy the Painter and Busty Bartendress, Paul Sanchez the Roving Reporter, Craig Cray, and yours truly. Most of these cats were either Victoria Arms residents, or guests of the denizens of the notably melodramatic 5th floor.
The Victoria Arms was very aptly named. It did feel like an armed camp at times! So many adversarial and belligerent situations, bordering on outlaw--it's a miracle no one ended up in the clink, or worse. I can assure you that the picture you see below is NOT how I remember it; in fact, it was sold some years back, sanitized, and the name changed to the completely non-combative, antiseptic blandness now known as the 'Victoria Apartments.' Ah, the march of progress!
Canadians Steven Dall and Cheryl Genyk, whom I came to know ever-so-briefly as the duo behind Legato Grace, lived together on that same notorious 5th Floor. In all, I must have met Cheri only once or twice, and Steve perhaps 4-5 times. I happened to hang out on that very same rooftop with Steve, maybe even once during daylight hours, to share a beer during a chance encounter. Steve and Cray and I also chilled in Cray's apartment a couple of times, drinking beers and musing on life in L.A., but mostly, bullshitting about music. Steve had just self-released the Legato Grace LP and was playing gigs in L.A. and the surrounding area to support its launch, and his and Cheri's broader aspirations as viable recording and performing artists.
I remember Steve giving Cray a handful of CDs to distribute. I had been a bit too polite in front of Steve to suggest I take one home for a listen. Farewells were given. The chill session ended, unceremoniously.
A few weeks later, upon my return to 527 S. Hobart, I learned from Cray that Steve and Cheri had shoved off for New York, L.A. firmly in their rear view mirror. I hoped their move would be all that they dreamed, but had my skepticism, upon hearing from Cray that the two were undergoing serious 'relationship challenges.' It sounded dire, at best. Yet could they still attain musical nirvana and retain their musical partnership amidst the romantic turmoil, à la Fleetwood Mac perhaps?
For years, I had no answers to that question. What I did have were two copies of 'Welcome to Pleasantville,' that Cray had given to me right after Steve and Cheri left. I kept one for myself and ended up giving the other to a fellow musician friend of mine. I listened to that LP quite often over the following year or so, and then, gradually, it faded to the nether recesses of my CD flip book. Remember those?
Circa 2007, I reached deep into my CD archives and uploaded the CD to my shiny new MacBook and companion iPod. I scoured Myspace looking for what musical fate and/or fortune had brought Steve and Cheri, but to no avail. They were nowhere to be found in cyberspace. In addition, Cray had long since lost all touch with them.
'Welcome to Pleasantville' is now ensconced in my iTunes folder, but has rarely graced my playlist in recent years. I've been far more immersed in electronica, rock, jazz, and other musical styles and moods than in the more rootsy, pastoral, confessional of the singer-songwriter set, though I still count that sound as a solid foundation of my own musical fabric since childhood.
Well, that was the end of the story. Until I decided to launch this blog, and in the course of doing so, I came across Legato Grace again while scrolling through the 'L's' in my iTunes, just a few weeks ago.
I gave the album a full listen. And I listened again. And again. And while I was listening, I began revisiting the interwebs for any sign of Steve and Cheri. Cheri...not so much. Still, not a trace of what became of her musical pursuits. I would reckon she got hitched and might still be recording and performing under another name?
As for Steve, well, this time I was in luck. There's blog chatter out there of some musical performances in Ottawa back in 2005. And it seems that in 2008, he was performing as Steven Dall and the Silver Foxes. There's a nice little 6 minute YouTube video of song clips from a show, or series of shows that they did. I'll attach the video at the end of the post, so as not to distract from the order at hand, my long delayed discussion of 'Welcome to Pleasantville.' Here's a teaser photo for ya in the meantime.
I also found a lengthy, one hour-plus YouTube video of Steve in a recent Hamilton, Ontario Podcast discussing his musical life story/odyssey (see link at the end of this post). I won't give it away, for those inquiring minds intent on scouring the 75 minute-plus video for the gems contained therein. It's akin to prematurely sharing the 'where are they now?' montage typically presented just before or during closing credits of countless films!
So, finally on to 'Welcome to Pleasantville,' which was recorded primarily in Ottawa, with secondary recording, mixing, and mastering in New York. Much like an actor studying 'The Method,' (think Beatty, Brando, DeNiro, Hoffman, Nicholson, Pacino, Streep), my immersion in the LP began to affect my disposition. Deeply so, in fact. It's not surprising, considering the depth of emotion conveyed in the music and the personal, bare nature of the songwriting, which is all credited to Dall. There's an overarching feel of melancholy, an intense sadness and sentimentality that pervades the album, balanced by the sheer beauty and majesty of Cheri Genyk's voice. Her voice is such an evocative instrument, full of yearning and desire. Whether the album is, collectively, or by the virtue of its individual tracks, one of pervasive pain and suffering or hope and joy, is up to the listener to decide. I felt both equally. I hear the layers of beauty in Genyk and Dall's harmonizing, Cheri's smooth and soaring voice against Steve's gruff, sandpaper lows and vulnerable, voice-breaks as he reaches for his emotional highs. When it is on, (like in Steve's solo vocal on 'Small Town'), it's truly moving and beautiful. When it's not, like on Dall's solo vocal track 'Thoroughfare Blues' which closes the album, it can be an excessively shaky, reedy, and unpleasantly off key vocal experience. But Dall, who as I remember him had (and from recent video, I see, still has) a wry, mordant wit and no-bullshit bluntness, would probably be the first to admit his shortcomings, without too much recrimination. As proof, you can even hear some of his disapproving studio chatter in between songs. What's great about this artist is that he doesn't take himself so bloody seriously!
From a production and instrumental standpoint, it's got some very fluid, shimmering, and resonant electric, lap-steel, dobro, and slide guitar work (from Fred Guignon and Mike Tate), with lots of bendy notes and sustained tonality, just the right amount of echo/reverb, and showcasing some rootsy motifs that really create an intimate, introspective, and at times impressionistic ambience. As a sense of place, the songs often transported me to rolling plains, the mountains of the West, and late night, seedy small town hangouts and dark secret, slightly sinister hideaways. True to character, I was particularly drawn to the latter!
Songs like 'T.S.E. Cowboy,' and 'Ether Masks' are two of my favorites on the LP. They both perfect that dark, dangerous moodiness. 'Ether Masks' begins quietly with a haunting, lonely vibe, and then builds to a cacophonous vocal chorus, accompanied by dirty, fuzzy, almost heavy guitar work. The questing 'T.S.E. Cowboy' is full of propulsive guitar and upbeat drumming, Genyk's soaring, urgent vocals, and brilliantly punctuated by Dall's lone sly, swaggering line of verse,
'I'm a shy boy, new to this range, and I don't wanna lose at these new cowboy games'
1. T.S.E. Cowboy
2. Ether Masks
Sadly, another uptempo song that promised to be one of the LP's grooviest, the scatty, Dylan-esque 'American Joy,' is virtually derailed by an inexcusably tinny and flaccid drum machine and slightly grating harmonica work. It makes you hope that budgetary production constraints are what rendered that song incomplete.
3. American Joy
There's plenty more to enjoy on this LP. From the gorgeous, elegiac, country-inflected ballad 'Savage Hunter,' to the dreamy, percussionless title track and opener, 'Welcome to Pleasantville,' Legato Grace perfectly mixes Genyk's alternating delicate/power vocals with Dall's tasteful harmonies, adept acoustic fingerpicking, and nuanced strumming. 'Mama, the Thieves, and I' has a great balance of Genyk's vocal storytelling, Dall's harmonies, and solid band backing. 'October' is another achy ballad in the vein of 'Savage Hunter,' but somewhat less catchy and layered.
4. Savage Hunter
5. Welcome to Pleasantville
6. Mama, the Thieves, and I
7. Small Town
8. October
9. Thoroughfare Blues
With 'Welcome to Pleasantville,' Steven Dall has lyrically painted a dark, brooding, melodrama much like that which seemed to unfold daily (and nightly) at Victoria Arms all those years ago. And he's brilliantly infused his palette with vibrant, nuanced accents and colors that ultimately evoke reflection, heartache, pain, healing, hope, and salvation. The story of where we've been and where we long to be.
Thanks again, Steve, for a true work of fluidly connected, beautiful music. Legato Grace indeed.
SPOILER ALERT! So as of this writing, Steven Dall (who ironically is also an actual painter) has spent the last seven years or so making his mark in Nashville, where he's been honing his songwriting skills as a professional wordsmith immersed in the country music industry, working with such legendary songwriters as Roger Cook, and penning tunes for the likes of the Oak Ridge Boys. He currently divides his time between Hamilton, Ontario and Nashville. Enjoy the videos!
I gave the album a full listen. And I listened again. And again. And while I was listening, I began revisiting the interwebs for any sign of Steve and Cheri. Cheri...not so much. Still, not a trace of what became of her musical pursuits. I would reckon she got hitched and might still be recording and performing under another name?
As for Steve, well, this time I was in luck. There's blog chatter out there of some musical performances in Ottawa back in 2005. And it seems that in 2008, he was performing as Steven Dall and the Silver Foxes. There's a nice little 6 minute YouTube video of song clips from a show, or series of shows that they did. I'll attach the video at the end of the post, so as not to distract from the order at hand, my long delayed discussion of 'Welcome to Pleasantville.' Here's a teaser photo for ya in the meantime.
I also found a lengthy, one hour-plus YouTube video of Steve in a recent Hamilton, Ontario Podcast discussing his musical life story/odyssey (see link at the end of this post). I won't give it away, for those inquiring minds intent on scouring the 75 minute-plus video for the gems contained therein. It's akin to prematurely sharing the 'where are they now?' montage typically presented just before or during closing credits of countless films!
So, finally on to 'Welcome to Pleasantville,' which was recorded primarily in Ottawa, with secondary recording, mixing, and mastering in New York. Much like an actor studying 'The Method,' (think Beatty, Brando, DeNiro, Hoffman, Nicholson, Pacino, Streep), my immersion in the LP began to affect my disposition. Deeply so, in fact. It's not surprising, considering the depth of emotion conveyed in the music and the personal, bare nature of the songwriting, which is all credited to Dall. There's an overarching feel of melancholy, an intense sadness and sentimentality that pervades the album, balanced by the sheer beauty and majesty of Cheri Genyk's voice. Her voice is such an evocative instrument, full of yearning and desire. Whether the album is, collectively, or by the virtue of its individual tracks, one of pervasive pain and suffering or hope and joy, is up to the listener to decide. I felt both equally. I hear the layers of beauty in Genyk and Dall's harmonizing, Cheri's smooth and soaring voice against Steve's gruff, sandpaper lows and vulnerable, voice-breaks as he reaches for his emotional highs. When it is on, (like in Steve's solo vocal on 'Small Town'), it's truly moving and beautiful. When it's not, like on Dall's solo vocal track 'Thoroughfare Blues' which closes the album, it can be an excessively shaky, reedy, and unpleasantly off key vocal experience. But Dall, who as I remember him had (and from recent video, I see, still has) a wry, mordant wit and no-bullshit bluntness, would probably be the first to admit his shortcomings, without too much recrimination. As proof, you can even hear some of his disapproving studio chatter in between songs. What's great about this artist is that he doesn't take himself so bloody seriously!
From a production and instrumental standpoint, it's got some very fluid, shimmering, and resonant electric, lap-steel, dobro, and slide guitar work (from Fred Guignon and Mike Tate), with lots of bendy notes and sustained tonality, just the right amount of echo/reverb, and showcasing some rootsy motifs that really create an intimate, introspective, and at times impressionistic ambience. As a sense of place, the songs often transported me to rolling plains, the mountains of the West, and late night, seedy small town hangouts and dark secret, slightly sinister hideaways. True to character, I was particularly drawn to the latter!
Songs like 'T.S.E. Cowboy,' and 'Ether Masks' are two of my favorites on the LP. They both perfect that dark, dangerous moodiness. 'Ether Masks' begins quietly with a haunting, lonely vibe, and then builds to a cacophonous vocal chorus, accompanied by dirty, fuzzy, almost heavy guitar work. The questing 'T.S.E. Cowboy' is full of propulsive guitar and upbeat drumming, Genyk's soaring, urgent vocals, and brilliantly punctuated by Dall's lone sly, swaggering line of verse,
'I'm a shy boy, new to this range, and I don't wanna lose at these new cowboy games'
1. T.S.E. Cowboy
2. Ether Masks
Sadly, another uptempo song that promised to be one of the LP's grooviest, the scatty, Dylan-esque 'American Joy,' is virtually derailed by an inexcusably tinny and flaccid drum machine and slightly grating harmonica work. It makes you hope that budgetary production constraints are what rendered that song incomplete.
3. American Joy
There's plenty more to enjoy on this LP. From the gorgeous, elegiac, country-inflected ballad 'Savage Hunter,' to the dreamy, percussionless title track and opener, 'Welcome to Pleasantville,' Legato Grace perfectly mixes Genyk's alternating delicate/power vocals with Dall's tasteful harmonies, adept acoustic fingerpicking, and nuanced strumming. 'Mama, the Thieves, and I' has a great balance of Genyk's vocal storytelling, Dall's harmonies, and solid band backing. 'October' is another achy ballad in the vein of 'Savage Hunter,' but somewhat less catchy and layered.
4. Savage Hunter
5. Welcome to Pleasantville
6. Mama, the Thieves, and I
7. Small Town
8. October
9. Thoroughfare Blues
With 'Welcome to Pleasantville,' Steven Dall has lyrically painted a dark, brooding, melodrama much like that which seemed to unfold daily (and nightly) at Victoria Arms all those years ago. And he's brilliantly infused his palette with vibrant, nuanced accents and colors that ultimately evoke reflection, heartache, pain, healing, hope, and salvation. The story of where we've been and where we long to be.
Thanks again, Steve, for a true work of fluidly connected, beautiful music. Legato Grace indeed.
SPOILER ALERT! So as of this writing, Steven Dall (who ironically is also an actual painter) has spent the last seven years or so making his mark in Nashville, where he's been honing his songwriting skills as a professional wordsmith immersed in the country music industry, working with such legendary songwriters as Roger Cook, and penning tunes for the likes of the Oak Ridge Boys. He currently divides his time between Hamilton, Ontario and Nashville. Enjoy the videos!
No comments:
Post a Comment