Patrick Sisson - Writer, Journalist, Cultural Documentarian, Music Lover

PATRICK SISSON

Portfolio

Getting to Know Rainbo Club Through Its Regulars

Article/Interview
Eater.com
October 2012
Link

GavinMorrison-Ken-Ellis

There are neighborhood bars—somewhere you don’t have to work to get a seat or the bartender’s attention, a dive that you like in a non-ironic way. And then there are bars that define a neighborhood. While the personality of Wicker Park seems malleable, as aspiring hotspots dilute the bohemian character that brought the area attention, it’s probably a safe bet that the role of local fixture will be played by the Rainbo Club, a shot-and-a-beer saloon on Damen at Division, for the foreseeable future.

Rainbo’s current incarnation started in October 1985. After past lives as both a polka bar and a watering hole in the Wicker Park of author Nelson Algren, the building was bought that year by Dee Taira and her partner, Gavin Morrison. The sprawling wooden bar, small white stage and red-vinyl booths have been maintained pretty much as purchased.

What changed was the clientele and staff, increasingly more artsy by demographics—as the ethnically diverse neighborhood became populated by artists, musicians and hipsters, and spots like the now-shuttered café Urbis Orbis—and by design, as ownership made it a point to support those artists with jobs and use the Rainbo’s walls as gallery space. In ’90s, the bar was a scene, a frequent hangout for local rock bands and musicians such as Urge Overkill, Tortoise and Liz Phair (the famous Exile in Guyville cover was taken in the Rainbo’s photo booth), and a fixture in the area’s social life. Here to tell the bar’s story are Taira, Phair and some key players from over the years.
Read more…

Getting to Know Miller’s Pub Through its Regulars

Article/Interview
Eater.com
June 2012
Link

Millers-Pub-original

In a city of divided loyalties, a bar that counted both Cubs announcer Harry Caray and White Sox owner Bill Veeck as regulars must be on to something. Miller’s Pub, a longtime Loop fixture at 134 S. Wabash, has the warm patina of Old Chicago, with a wooden bar worn like a pilgrim’s idol, celeb snapshots everywhere and street signs from the intersections of Wrigley, Comiskey and the old Chicago Stadium on its walls. It speaks to the cross-section of patrons the bar attracts. Though, for those baseball fans keeping score, the technically south side bar and restaurant does dedicate the end of the bar to the memory of Mr. Veeck.

The bar’s location and late hours — favorable for the Loop business crowd, guests and celebs staying at the Palmer House, and downtown theater goers — proved fortuitous. The brothers expanded and opened two additional businesses downtown, Wabash Inn and Vannie’s. When a fire in 1989 caused smoke damage to the original Miller’s location, the brothers moved the bar to Vannie’s, which is now where the flagship business resides. Currently, Andy Gallios, Vannie’s son, as well as his cousin, Aris Gallios, run the business. Here to tell the story are Vannie Gallios, the only surviving brother, and some key players from over the years.
Read more…

Getting to Know the Hopleaf Through its Regulars

Article/Interview
Eater.com
April 2012
Link

Hopleaf-exterior-500
Photo by Grant Kessler

For many Chicagoans, their love affair with Belgian beer was first consummated at the Hopleaf, the Andersonville beer mecca started by husband-and-wife owners Michael Roper and Louise Molnar. Named after a brew from Malta, the origin of those red hopleaf signs decorating the bar, this Far North Side venue has introduced drinkers to microbrews, rare imports and, somewhat more recently, Belgian-inspired food, for two decades. Frequently praised as one of the country’s foremost beer bars, the Hopleaf is close to revealing an expansion, which will bring total indoor seating to about 275.

But at the beginning, things were a bit more modest. Roper moved to Chicago in 1982 from Detroit after his previous bar, the New Miami, was firebombed. He worked a variety of jobs and bar shifts, always looking for the chance to run a bar again. It came in 1991 when Clark-Foster Liquors (also known as Hans’) became available. Located on the eponymous corner of the Swedish neighborhood, the bar was previously owned by Hans Gottling, a neighborhood fixture who supposedly introduced the area to glogg. It was a fixer-upper; a lot of work happened before the first iteration of the Hopleaf opened in November 1992. Here to tell the story are Roper and some key players from over the years.
Read more…

Event Horizon: Interview with Michael Rother of Neu!

Feature
Wax Poetics
Issue 48
Link

i48-Cover-300x428

Always honored to have a piece in Wax Poetics. My interview with Michael Rother is in the latest issue — buy it where they still sell printed materials now.

Famous chefs’ first jobs: Before they earned Michelin Stars or hosted TV shows, here’s how 11 famous food personalities kicked off their culinary careers

Article
Metromix
January 2011
Link

guyfieri

Whether it’s fast-food purgatory or a brainless post on the retail frontlines, your first job tends to be a not-so-glamorous introduction to the working world. While the source of your first paycheck probably isn’t occupying prime space on your resume, for some it’s an unlikely start on a winding career path, especially if it’s your passion. For many of the biggest chefs in the country, their first kitchen jobs got them hooked. Whether it was through entrepreneurial endeavors, such as Guy Fieri’s childhood pretzel stand (pictured), or by accident, here are the stories of how 11 culinary superstars entered the ring.

Paula Deen

The doyenne of Southern food is known for her satisfying home cooking, so it’s not shocking she discovered her calling serving up simple, straightforward meals to the public. Before she started her famous restaurant, The Lady and Sons in Savannah, Ga., Deen ran the Bag Lady delivery service in town with her two sons, Jamie and Bobby. She’d prepare brown-bag meals with dishes like chicken salad and include muffins and cookies. Her sons would then sell them all around downtown.

Tom Colicchio

The “Top Chef” judge and Craft owner recently impressed contestants during a Quickfire challenge on the cooking reality show, completing a full dish in under nine minutes. It was a none-too-subtle reminder of Colicchio’s well-honed skills, which he began to develop working around his hometown of Elizabeth, N.J. In addition to helping out his uncle, who sold fruits and vegetables, he also worked as a short-order snack-bar cook at the Gran Centurion swim club. According to the book “Super Chef,” he was getting paid $250 a week under the table to work the stove and whip up dishes like grilled cheese and grilled sausages. It’s a long way from the premium cuts of meat so artfully served at his high-end restaurants, which include Colicchio & Sons and the recently opened Riverpark.
Read more…

Meet Jabber Jury Founders Kevin Wielgus and Angelo Rago: GAVEL NOT INCLUDED: Introducing a virtual tribunal where you can weigh in sans summons

Article
Chicago Magazine
January 2011
Link

Jabber-Jury-Kevin-Wielgus-Angelo-Rago

It’s fitting that a website about arguments emerged from one.

In the fall of 2009, the Chicago tech entrepreneurs Kevin Wielgus and Angelo Rago were at the Improv in Schaumburg when Rago’s then-girlfriend, whom he’d been dating for only a few weeks, received a phone call: Her parents were headed to the hospital. She rushed off; he stayed for the show.

At a bar later that night, Rago began receiving angry text messages: He was insensitive; his true colors were showing. Rago was amused. His girlfriend’s father had a bad case of hemorrhoids—hardly life threatening. Rago knew she was telling friends about how terrible he was, but from where he was sitting, he was in the right. Wielgus concurred. “I bet everyone in here would agree with you,” Rago remembers him saying. They then told the story to a crowd of fellow patrons, observing how the general opinion shifted as details emerged.

The situation inspired the duo to create Jabber Jury, an online courtroom that draws from such pop culture concepts as TV’s Tosh.0 and The People’s Court. They call the model “conflictainment.” Both parties in an argument—anything from husband-wife bickering to whether a friend dresses inappropriately—submit videos explaining their sides. The videos, uploaded to Jabber Jury’s proprietary system, form the basis of a case, and each party can add rebuttals and invite witnesses to submit video testimony. Registered users can leave comments, spread the case via social media, and vote on the outcome.

“We’ve all been guilty of being the voyeur and listening in on a couple at the next table,” says Wielgus.
Read more…

Gang Signs: Post-punk legends Gang of Four revisit old principles and crank up the transistor amps on Content

Feature
EQ
January 2011
Link

gangoffour_img02_hires

Last October, Gang of Four guitarist and producer Andy Gill delivered a lecture on recording to students at the Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts. The influential post-punk guitarist wasn’t afraid to be self-effacing: He played one of his band’s lesser-known songs, an early ’90s cover of Bob Marley’s “Soul Rebel,” and asked students to tell him what was wrong. He waited until one said it sounded like “catwalk music” before he agreed.

“[Complex production] can sound amazing, and the programming can be fantastic,” says Gill, “but to me, it’s falling in love with the samples and MIDI programming and forgetting what you’re about. It’s not Gang of Four music. It could be great for something else.”

Content, which Gill recorded over the past two years at his own Beauchamp Studio in Central London, is a return to form—aggressive, prickly, and muscular. Gill worked over song ideas with founding member and vocalist Jon King, perfecting tight, rhythmic arrangements before bringing on newer members Thomas McNeice (bass) and Mark Heaney (drums) for recording.

“One of the beauties of guitar/bass/drums is you have a lot of space,” says Gill. “More traditional pop music has this hierarchical, pyramid structure, with lead vocals on top, guitar below it, and then keyboards and backing vocals, all meant to support the lead vocals. One of the things Gang of Four did was put everything side by side. It all worked together and created a rhythmic network, which fed into our aesthetic ideas.”
Read more…

Young and the Restless: With their sophisticated second album, Chicago rock upstarts Smith Westerns prove they’re all grown up

Interview
Nylon Guys
December/January

Dye-It-Blonde-320x320

It’s early in the afternoon and Cullen Omori is sitting behind a small table at Intelligentsia, a coffee shop in Chicago’s Loop business district, sipping a cup of black coffee and occasionally brushing back his long, dark hair like Mitch Kramer from Dazed and Confused. His bandmates in Smith Westerns— his brother, bassist Cameron, and guitarist Max Kakacek—are driving around in their white tour van; they couldn’t find parking downtown, so they just dropped their frontman off to do the interview solo.

The kids, it seems, are all right. But once you listen to Smith Western’s sophisticated sophomore album, Dye it Blonde, a blazing set of fuzzed-out, tightly wound guitar pop inspired by everything from Zeppelin and Big Star to Suede, you’ll have trouble referring to them as kids. They’re understandably sick of hearing it. Sure, the guys released their self-titled debut in 2009 when they were still in high school, and, yes, they still crash at their parents’ when they’re not touring, and, no, they can’t legally order drinks. But take in Omori’s soaring, wistful lyrics (“I want to grow old before I grow up,” on “All Die Young”) or hear him talk about life on the road, surrounded by examples of arrested development, and a more experienced voice emerges.

“The idea of the lyrics on Dye it Blonde is about wanting, whether certain things are attainable or not,” says the 20-year-old. “I want this, I want that. It doesn’t get me off to write redemption or drug songs. I feel like those are played out. If you like to get fucked up, that’s your business—you don’t have to write every song about it. The lyrics here talk about romanticism. A lot of other bands write about how great it is to be young. But I’ve done all these romanticized things. It’s not that great. Is it going to get better?”
Read more…

Out of the Lab: Stereolab chanteuse Laetitia Sadier aims for indie-pop simplicity in her debut solo effort, The Trip

Feature
EQ Magazine
December 2010
Link

dc440ph06_nr(1)

A bedrock element of Stereolab’s continental cool, Laetitia Sadier’s voice is unmistakable. Hearing its breadth of variation on The Trip, from the “grey disco” of her “Un Soir, Un Chien” cover to the languid “Natural Child,” reveals the depth and fluidity that can be uncovered in a new context. For her first solo album, Sadier experimented with a new setting while keeping a foot anchored on comfortable ground, splitting recording time between Emmanuel Mario in the UK, who worked with her group Monade, and lo-fi singer/songwriter Richard Swift, who opened for Stereolab’s last U.S. tour and works out of his Portland studio.

“I wanted to have a new sound and come across something different,” says Sadier. “I was looking forward to working with Richard because we had never worked together before, so that gave me scope to learn something new. But I didn’t really have a specific preconceived idea. I wanted to be surprised! And I was, working with Richard.”

With a philosophy that aims to “take photographs rather than make a painting,” Swift set up his studio as a spontaneous, low pressure environment. Swift, who played drums and guitar on many tracks, Sadier, and other contributors to the Portland sessions worked together in one open room, without talkback. Directness and simplicity were key; only about a dozen tracks were used for each song, and while Swift admits there’s some ear candy on the record, the team was more focused on stripping back and streamlining. Synthetic pulses and film score atmospheres coexisted without crowding out the music.

“It’s a really loose recording situation,” says Swift. “Half the time we’re actually listening to records [Tom Tom Club was a favorite], talking and hanging out. I’ve always felt you need to create an environment where the clock isn’t ticking, it’s loose, and you can work where you want to. I’ve always gotten the best results that way, rather than hammering it over take after take and working yourself half to death.”
Read more…

Bruce Haack: Farad

Review
Pitchfork
December 3, 2010
Link
7.1

farad200

Reissue releases usually oversell the now-clichéd story of a misunderstood musical genius. Farad, Stones Throw’s retrospective of electronic music eccentric Bruce Haack, does peddle that tale to a certain degree, much like the 2004 documentary Haack: The King of Techno. But the real pleasure of the disc, covering music released during the later part of his career from 1970-82, is that it doesn’t try too hard to define Haack’s compositions and philosophy or spend extensive time wondering, “What if?” It instead exposes the raw components of his odd career, an improbable, colorful circuit board resembling the wiring to some Rube Goldberg device.

A musical prodigy from a Canadian mining town, Haack was all-encompassing in his approach. He had composed far-out children’s music and pop songs, experimented with classical/synthesizer hybrids, and hand-crafted a studio’s worth of electronic instruments (including a proto-vocoder, Farad, named after inventor Michael Faraday) by the end of the ’60s. Few can claim to have demoed electronic instruments for Fred Rogers and written a song covered by Beck (“Funky Little Song”, not included on this album). But his scattered biography goes a long way toward explaining the playful weirdness and the philosophical underpinnings that made Haack so refreshing. Even on his psychedelic excursions or the stone cold electro funk of “Stand Up Lazarus,” there’s a sense of wonder and play, and he doesn’t stay perpetually plugged-in, letting folk and country twang find its way into his music.

The tone of his tracks veered from suspended, bubbly escapes (“Rain of Earth”) and silly sing-alongs (“Maybe This Song”) to a Kraftwerk-worthy electro jam with a pre-Def Jam Russell Simmons (1982’s “Party Machine”) or the Byrds-like tinge of “National Anthem to the Moon,” one of a handful of tracks on the comp taken from his 1970 album The Electric Lucifer. Haack took to the vocoder like Jim Henson took to felt, imitating a guttural monster on “Noon Day Sun” and bending his voice into that of a cheesy lovelorn cyborg on “Rita”. On the jaunty, “Electric to Me Turn,” Haack gets philosophical over steam organ synths, declaring, “Electric to me turn this night/ Reflecting universal light/ All I knew that should be true/ Is reality in you.” Hindsight may render some of these tracks a bit silly or indulgent, but this patchwork of music showcases a true believer and a talent that deserves recognition among his early synthesizer peers.

Older Posts
Newer Posts
© 2025 PATRICK SISSON | Writer and reporter