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

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Review
Playboy.com
May 2005
Rating: Three of Four Bunnyheads

gorillaz-demon-days

It’s a bad sign for a politician when animated monkeys dis your war record. That’s the state Dubya finds himself in with the release of Demon Days, the latest album from the virtual hip-hop collective Gorillaz. On the smoldering track “Dirty Harry” — which starts out as a demented Donkey Kong theme song and builds into a roller coaster of angry rapping — guest vocalist Bootie Brown raps from the point of view of a soldier in Iraq and declares “The war is over / So said the speaker with the flight suit on / Maybe to him I’m just a pawn.” An anti-war missive may seem oddly serious and preachy from this cartoon crew — which is a front for Brit-pop icon Damon Albarn, mash-up maestro Danger Mouse and a host of collaborators — but it actually fits in perfectly with the gloomy tone of Demon Days. The lyrics border on apocalyptic, Albarn’s slacker delivery is dead on and many of the numerous guest spots are equally effective. MF Doom spits lick rhymes on the shuffling “November Has Come,” De La Soul delivers a haughty performance on the otherwise breezy “Feel Good Inc.” and the opposing sounds of booming British rapper Roots Manuva and angelic chanteuse Martina Topley Bird compliment the dramatic “All Alone.” It’s an eclectic album filled with dance grooves, guitar dirges and the work of two separate choirs, but Danger Mouse manages to corral is all together with futuristic grooves, theatrical flourishes and impeccable production.

Feature
DiningOut Chicago
Spring/Summer 2005

agave

Long considered a cheap shot that can lead to salacious behavior, tequila has earned a bad rap. Misconceptions about the spirit abound, all contributing to its unfounded reputation as a foul-tasting “cactus juice” only fit for college parties. In reality, tequila is a refined, complex spirit. And the true story of tequila is more interesting than any barroom myth.

Tequila is one of more than 30 drinks made from the fermented juice of agave plants, some of which have been around since at least 200 B.C. Carlos Alferez, a managing partner at Frontera Grill, says, “It’s made in a totally different way, with a different plant. There’s no other spirit like it.” And Geno Behena, the executive chef of Chilpancingo, calls it the “spirit of Mexico.”

In 1795, the King of Spain granted José Marí a Guadalupe Cuervo the first government license to make the drink, signifying the beginning of large-scale production and government involvement in the making of Mexico’s most prized spirit. This era also marked the emergence of 100 percent blue agave tequila, the pinnacle of agave cultivation. As production grew and various distilleries refined their methods, they discovered that the juice of the blue agave plant produced the best liquor. Soon, 100 percent blue agave tequila, a smooth drink best sipped slowly, became the standard for production.

Making tequila is a delicate art, and anybody making the drink must comply with a long set of regulations imposed by the Mexican government – and by nature. The blue agave plant takes eight to twelve years to mature, and in order to produce and liter of tequila, a distiller needs fifteen pounds of piña (the center of the blue agave plant) that are steamed in furnaces for 20-36 hours, pressed, collected, fermented and distilled twice. By law, tequila must posses no less than 38 percent alcohol by volume.
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Feature
Chicago Tribune
June 10, 2005

album-gimme-fiction

When Spoon singer-songwriter Britt Daniels began writing songs for the band’s latest album “Gimme Fiction,” he was already focused on the end. As in The End. “I was thinking about the apocalypse,” he said. “There are a lot of people in Texas and in the Bible Belt who believe in it. They have this approach that it’s going to happen in our lifetimes anyway, so why even try to preserve the environment and work towards peace?”

Those are depressing thoughts from a musician whose band has anything but dark days ahead. Unceremoniously dropped from Elektra Records just a few weeks after releasing “A Series of Sneaks” in 1998, Spoon rebounded, signing with Merge Records and releasing a string of critically-lauded rock albums a few years later. Now, as Spoon embarks on a nationwide tour supporting its anticipated new album, the band has become much more than a Wilco-esque comeback story. It’s now an established group making music on its own terms.

Recorded between July and September last year, “Gimme Fiction” has the same stark, stripped-down sound and vague, semi-autobiographical lyrics that made the band’s last two albums, 2001’s “Girls Can Tell” and 2002’s “Kill the Moonlight” so popular. Streamlined arrangements of piano, bass, guitar and drums barrel ahead on the album’s 11 tracks. Daniels, the main songwriter, Jim Eno, his primary collaborator and drummer, and engineer Mike McCarthy (who worked on the last three albums) once again distill pop music to its basics, removing impurities to deliver a more potent punch.

“Britt’s told me many times that Jim and his’ goal is to write the perfect three-minute pop song,” said Martin Hall, Merge Record’s publicity director.
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Movie Review
Playboy.com
June 2005

BatmanBegins

Reconceiving Batman requires radical thinking, and Memento director Christopher Nolan takes a revolutionary, and revelatory, approach with Batman Begins. Waking from a recurring flashback of his childhood fall down a bat-filled well, Gotham’s most famous son Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) finds himself in a place many of us would consider a worse nightmare: a cell in a Chinese prison. But the wealthy playboy didn’t get caught at the wrong end of a Midnight Express-style vacation drug bust – he chose to be there. Racked with guilt and anger after witnessing his parents’ murders as a child, Wayne set out to travel the world in an attempt to understand the criminal mind, only to end up incarcerated. He finds salvation in Henri Ducard (Liam Neeson), an eccentric who brings the wayward Wayne out of prison and into the fold of secretive warriors who train him to confront fear and fight evil. Ready to kick ass, Wayne returns to Gotham and creates his alter-ego: Batman. As is usually the case with superheroes, his timing is impeccable – a madman is about to poison the city’s water supply with a hallucinogenic drug.

By focusing on the complex emotions seething beneath the surface, Batman Begins provides a gripping exposition of the Batman myth. Bale gives an intense, nuanced performance as the Dark Knight, invigorating a role that has grown stale (or disasterous, depending on how much you hated Joel Schumacher’s Batman & Robin). Bale’s version of Batman wakes up bruised and battered but immediately does push-ups. This is likely a nod to Bale’s American Psycho regimen, but it’s also a telling portrait of a man fighting with missionary zeal. The supporting cast is also excellent. Loyal butler Alfred (Michael Caine) helps reclaim Wayne Manor, reclusive inventor Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman) arms Batman to the teeth and friend Rachel Dawes (Katie Holmes) helps Wayne find his moral center. The fantastical feel of Tim Burton’s first two Batman flicks is absent from Batman Begins. This new movie, a steely meditation on the meaning of revenge and justice that’s as dark as it is dashing, presents a more complex hero struggling to find his place.

Feature
URB
May 2005

mixtape1

Sonic Youth guitarist Thurston Moore remembers endlessly listening to a homemade tape filled with his favorite hardcore songs. He recalls touring the country during the ’80s in a van with a monstrous, sticker-stained boom box blasting tunes. And he still treasures the mix tapes bestowed by older and wiser friends and music fans, gateway drugs leading towards better musical highs. Moore’s warm and fuzzy memories revolving around certain tapes prove the point he’s trying to make with Mix Tape (Universe), his chronicle of cassette culture: it’s all about sharing music.

“I think we should concentrate on the whole love and ego aspect of people giving tapes to each other,” he says.

Moore became involved withMix Tape after Eva Prinz, an editor at Rizzoli Publishing, approached him about editing the book. Intrigued by the project, Moore decided to take a non-academic look at the history of cassettes and instead focused on personal relationships. Moore’s methodology was straightforward — send out an email solicitation to all the names in his address book and see what came back.

Moore’s friends in the art and music world responded by describing their favorite tapes, but sadly, few still had possession of their plastic pieces of history. Those who still had their treasured cassettes sent in photos of the elaborately designed cases and contributed short essays. Much like the tapes themselves, these essays capture a time or a relationship. Jim O’Rourke’s piece talks about a mix tape he meticulously recorded for a girl that was compromised by a single poor track selection. Photographer Glen E. Friedman’s tape, Oral Surgery Disasters, was a “gnarly mix” of continuous, loud music meant to drown out a particularly painful dental procedure.

Moore cobbled together the beguiling and beautiful submissions into loose thematic sections — perfect form for a mix tape artists — and penned an introduction.

“I definitely wanted it to be more personalized, so I tried to write in a way that it was like a fanzine, but hardbound and put out by a major publisher,” said Moore.

Moore believes that the rise of indie music and the development of cassette tapes are related phenomena — it all boils down to sharing music, he says. Tapes laid the groundwork for an open exchange of music, something radically accelerated by today’s digital technology.

“During the whole CBGB’s era,” he says, “Everybody knew each other and you knew that some people were talking about is outside of the community. Now [with digital downloading], the whole world is invited to the party.”

But that’s not the only cultural shift that speaks to the lasting influence of cassette culture.

“iPods are an extension of cassette culture,” he says. “It’s people taking matter into their own hands to create their own products. You can just create your own jukebox that holds thousands of songs.”

And despite the fact that the use of digital equipment has far outpaced the use of vintage analog gear, Moore feels cassettes will never go away.

“Records haven’t gone away,” he says. “They’re kind of boutique at this point. I always think there’s going to be some vintage hipness to the cassette. Their immediacy will never be denied.”

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Time Out Chicago
May 2005

MOdill

Hip hop thrives on the excitement of visceral, spur-of-the-moment freestyle rapping—but few groups improvise a whole set the way locals Modill did at the Empty Bottle in May opening for DJ Spooky. When showtime arrived and a guest MC never showed up—making the set list and the vinyl in DJ K-Kruz’s record crate worthless—Modill still managed to deliver a solid set, with K-Kruz scratching new songs into existence and rapper Racecar dutifully following his lead.

It’s a feat the North Side duo is built to do. Racecar has a smooth, focused and flexible delivery that exhibits a visceral, spur-of-the-moment freestyle rapping Dan the Automator-type drawl, and K-Kruz, who was previously a drummer in some short-lived local funk groups, relentlessly remixes each track he touches, cobbling together broken beats and spacey samples. It all adds up to a flowing, futuristic sound—imagine a toned-down version of Antipop Consortium.

The duo’s creative restlessness places it in other good company alongside many other up-and-coming North Side hip hop artists, like Single Minded Pros and Chester Copperpot. K-Kruz has already produced tracks for the relentless rapper Diverse and Modill has also worked with crosstown Chicago rappers like Longshot and Thaione Davis. On Friday 8, Modill (opening for Detroit MC and Eminem favorite Royce Da 5’9” and Chicagoan Psalm One, among others) should preview tracks from its forthcoming full-length debut, Midnight Green. It’s a shame this hip hop showcase is stuffed into the smokey Abbey Pub, because the jazzy, shuffling beats dropped by this crew would set a sublime mood at any early evening block party.

Feature
Time Out Chicago
April 2005

anthony shake shakir

“Sometimes, I feel like the invisible man of Detroit techno,” says Anthony “Shake” Shakir. Being in the right place and being connected can make all the difference. But sometimes, even those big breaks aren’t enough.

Working during the ’80s in the studio of dance music icon Derrick May (who was appropriately nicknamed the Innovator), Shakir was definitely in the mythical right-place-at-the-right-time. Shakir, a techno producer and DJ, also has ties to nearly every big name in Detroit techno, but things have hardly worked out like a dream. To most of techno’s American fans, he doesn’t exist. In fact, his Sonotheque gig on Friday at the Going Forward in Reverse night will be his Chicago debut.

Born in Detroit in 1966, Shakir, a self-described shy child, was never comfortable in crowds. But he always found solace in music. “I ave pictures of myself playing with records when I was two,” he says. “I’ve been listening to records all my life.” A fan of an eclectic array of sounds from Thomas Dolby to Parliament, Shakir was drawn to radio mix shows as a kid. He learned the basics of deejaying in high school by messing around with a friend’s turntables and mixer. While studying communications at Western Michigan University form ’84 to ’89, he occupied himself with record collecting and playing frat parties.
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Music Review
Playboy.com
January 2005

run the road

In any class covering hip-hop history, the prof will undoubtedly devote much of the semester to Bronx B-boys and L.A. gang members. But Run the Road, a British rap compilation hitting U.S. shores this month, may be the most cogent argument yet that overseas artists aren’t merely copying U.S. styles and stories; they’re creating their own hip-hop hybrids. Much as the genre’s original mad scientists stitched together funk, soul, reggae and Latin music into something new, the producers of these tracks have create d anew stylistic fusion. the claustrophobic synth sounds of drum ‘n’ bass, jungle’s dark rhythms and reggae’s sound clash cadences are used to augment traditional hip-hop production, coming together in a gritty, sharp style called grime. The crunchy, washed-out synths on “Destruction VIP” and the stuttering beats on “Unorthodox Daughters” are good examples. Spitting gritty tales of East London life, the English rappers demonstrate that hip-hop’s cultural references and tales of gunplay, gangs and girls are easily adopted across the pond. But the English MCs have their own swagger. Roll Deep delivers a feel-good anthem about lifting himself out of the ghetto on “Let It Out,” proclaiming that “if you’re patient/we can all get out of here.” And on one of his tracks, “P’s and Q’s,” the slick rapper Kano poses a question: “I’m too deep/how can Kano stay underground?” That’s a question all these artists should ask.

Feature
Chicago Tribune
November 2004

thewilltodeath

Anthony Kiedis, singer for the multiplatinum funk-rock Red Hot Chili Peppers, released his epic autobiography, “Scar Tissue,” this week. It’s full of the type of wild stories — watching his father deal coke to a football player as a kid, trading in a guitar signed by all of the Rolling Stones for a bit of heroin during a bender — that one would expect from a member of one of the world’s biggest and baddest bands.

It’s also the bold move you would expect from the charismatic frontman of a band. But while the book reinforces Kiedis’ status as the alpha member of the group, another Chili Pepper, the shy, introspective guitarist John Frusciante, is quietly realizing an ambitious solo project. Frusciante is releasing a series of six solo albums in six months that showcases his incredible fluency with the guitar.

“I feel strongly about this music, and I think there will always be people who discover it and get something out of it,” Frusciante said. “I care about leaving a legacy of work. I am definitely not doing it the smart way if my goal was to sell records.”

Frusciante has always written and recorded his own music, but it wasn’t until last December, when the Chili Peppers were taking a break, that he felt he had the vision and understanding necessary to make his own album. Embarking on a flurry of recording sessions that ended in May, the guitarist and a rotating cast of collaborators created an eclectic body of work to be released on the Record Collection label.

“People will be amazed that this much stuff is coming out from somebody who’s playing with a major band,” said Joe Lally, a bassist with Fugazi who contributed to the project.

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Concert Review
Chicago Tribune
November 2004

5255-mmfood

Though many rappers rely on flashy diamonds and street credibility to get attention, underground rap kingpin Daniel Dumile needed just a mike and a metal mask to rock the Abbey Pub Monday night.

Performing as the mysterious MF Doom, a character named after a Marvel comic book antagonist, Dumile opened the “MM…Food” album-release tour with a buffet of beats from his stories career.

As his deejay teased the crowd and asked if they were hungry for some food, the stage lights went down and Doom made a commanding entrance. Strutting in the shadows, he opened the show with tracks from his new album, including the beat box jam “Hoe Cakes” and the Madlib-produced “One Beer.” As he flexed all over the stage, stray light bounced off his metal mask.

But things were just getting started for the masked marauder. After he introduced his crew, including the affable hype man Big Ben the Klingon, Doom started reaching into his back catalog, and the crowd exploded. Covering tracks from his albums “Madvillainy” and “Operation Doomsday,” Doom was in his element, laying down clever couplets such as “Slip like Freudian/Your first and last step to playin’ yourself like an accordion” over the jazzy beats of “Accordion.” At a time when rappers strive to cultivate a thuggish facade complete with plenty of bling, Doom’s lyrical dexterity and exaggerated, comic book persona mocks those rappers while simultaneously beating them at their own game.

Earlier in the evening, the opening acts energized the crowd with slick wordplay and soulful beats. Taking a page from Jean Grae’s book, laid-back female rapper Psalm One opened the night with focused, solid storytelling. Next was Brother Ali, an albino rapper who towered over the stage and exhibited a rapid-fire delivery. Still, his uplifting lyrics and warm stage presence showed him to be more of a hip-hop teddy bear.

But Doom owned the evening, playing the crowd perfectly. His enthusiasm and brisk flow were contagious, but his best move was disappearing offstage a few times during his set. It elicited rowdy cheers from a hyped-up crowd. When he walked off stage, deafening chants of “Doom!” followed him, demonstrating that the crowd definitely wanted seconds.