Tag Archives: music

In the Mood

November 24, 2017 by
Photography by Bill Si

When Omaha transplant and burgeoning singer/rapper Ria Gold first heard Aaliyah’s posthumous album, 2002’s I Care 4 U, she was hooked. The Toledo, Ohio, native was so entranced by it, she played it start-to-finish countless times. The late R&B/pop sensation was the first artist Gold felt truly connected to; however, her musical tastes go way deeper. Gold is moved more by rhythm than anything else.

“Everyone around me listened to alternative music,” Gold explains. “That led me to listening to rock, R&B, anything alternative, and everything in between. I also have a very eclectic soul, so a tune that catches my soul is a good tune to me.”

From Destiny’s Child and Avril Lavigne to Alicia Keys and Paramore, Gold has drawn from a variety of diverse influences for as long as she can remember. Around age 13, Gold realized she wanted to pursue music, but she started off slowly.

“I started taking songwriting more serious at the age of 9,” she says. “But I wasn’t thinking about any certain path at that age.”

In 2010, Gold finally performed live for the first time at Sokol Auditorium, an event she’ll never forget. At the time, she was only 15 years old.

“Oh my gosh,” she says with a sense of awe. “Luckily, I performed a song I had written with a friend. He helped me feel comfortable on stage for the first time. I was just as excited as I was nervous, but I looked cute and I didn’t mess up, so that was good.”

Fast-forward to 2017 and Gold, now 23, has graced multiple stages. In 2016, she won her first battle rap tournament at Soho Lounge and is currently preparing to enter her second one at Club Vibe.

She just wrapped up an inaugural performance at Femme Fest, and is working on her aptly titled EP trilogy — Moodring Pt. 1, Moodring Pt. 2 and Moodring Pt. 3. The project, which she plans to release in 2018, is a glimpse into her sometimes tumultuous love life.

“I’m really excited to share it because it displays all the emotions I’ve gone through dealing with my last breakup and going into my current relationship,” she explains. “It’ll take you through some ups and downs for sure, and that’s why I chose the title Moodring.”

Fans of Gold have described her vocal style as a mix between singing and rapping, or what she describes as “something like a melodic poet.”

“That’s why I feel so naturally connected to both,” she says.

When she’s not working on music, Gold stays busy working at her friend Imagine Uhlenbrock’s shop in North Omaha, Hand of Gold Beauty Room, where she primarily works as a freelance makeup artist.

“I was there to assist in doing the simpler, less intricate designs such as solid color manicures and pedicures, and chrome,” she says. “Now, I go in every once in a while to help keep the maintenance of the store up. I may take a client or two, depending on how creative I’m feeling that day.”

Considering it’s not full-time work, it’s a job that seems to fit in with her musical endeavors and constantly fluctuating schedule. It also helps keep her connected to the seemingly endless creative minds in the Omaha scene.

“I think Omaha has a great music community,” she says. “There is a crazy amount of talent here in all genres, and the collaborations that are formed from the artists in our city never cease to amaze me. We’ve got some hidden gems and some culture behind us.”

As Gold continues cultivating her own talent, she’s settled on a few pre-show rituals. Before getting ready for a performance, Gold does a little “pre-gaming,” which usually involves some liquor and lots of practice. She normally begins every show with the line, “Hey everyone, I’m a little faded.”

“I usually have a few shots before I go on stage,” she admits. “For the most part, I will get my set together a few hours before a show. I like to choose the music I’m performing based off of my most current mood. I still rehearse my own music when getting ready for a show. I never want to forget lines or blank in front of a crowd, so rehearsal is key.”

From solo tracks like “Really Wanna” to her collaborative work on “Good Good” with fellow musician Justin Carlisle, Gold oozes an air of confidence and a touch of sensuality. It’s allowed her to stand out among the vast sea of aspiring artists, especially online, where it’s easy to get lost in the sheer number of musicians.

“The internet is the constant positive for up and coming artists,” she says. “It gives us a way to broadcast our talents with no boundaries or regulations. It’s raw and easily accessible for the world to see. Anyone can break through or ‘shine’ in a crowd of artists, as long as they are being unique, authentic, and true to their craft.”

Listen to Ria Gold’s music on Soundcloud: soundcloud.com/1goldieworld

This article was printed in the November/December 2017 edition of Encounter.

Blood Cow

November 17, 2017 by

Ozzy Osbourne bites heads off bats.The Red Hot Chili Peppers perform in the buff. Bloodcow gets kicked out of small, sleepy towns.

Although they’re a local act, this five-member band isn’t afraid to rock out and party like the pros. So much so, they were once escorted by police out of Oshkosh, Wisconsin—and forbidden to ever return.

“We went to a motel after a show, partied all night like usual, but this time things got real weird real quick,” says vocalist Matt Owen. “By 6 a.m., we had police at our door.”

But is a rock band even a rock band if they haven’t been kicked out of at least one town? Hijinks and antics aside, this group has worked for their right to a good time.

Over the course of Bloodcow’s 17-year history, the band has won three Omaha Arts and Entertainment Awards and released four full-length albums.

“One thing that has always rang true with us is that we were never looking to make a career out of music,” Owen says. “We were more into the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle than making money.”

Flash back to 2000, a time when metal rock began to teeter away from focusing on fun and music toward somber theatrics. Bloodcow formed as the antithesis of acts like Slipknot and Korn, a figurative middle finger intended to take the genre back to the partying ways of yesteryear. The original members had one goal: to make people uncomfortable. Performing live donning just underwear and writing music that opposed the Bush administration followed.

While Owen and guitarist Josh Lamb are the only original members left, all current musicians have a shared history of attending Abraham Lincoln High School in Council Bluffs. Their current lineup comprises Owen, Lamb, guitarist J.J. Bonar, bassist Josh McDowell, and drummer David Collins.

“What drew me to the band was their raw energy during live shows,” Collins says. “I was jealous of that intensity and attitude. When they asked if I wanted to be a part of it, I couldn’t say no.”

With the shuffle of members, the band’s sound has developed into “a jambalaya of pop, rock, and [psychedelic] music,” according to Lamb. The production value of each album has increased in quality, and their latest LP—Crystals & Lasers, released in 2015—acts as a thematic cocktail of social satire and sci-fi mixed with a healthy dose of humor.

Due to their unique sound and even more unique subject matter, Bloodcow has found both local and regional success touring. Performing at venues such as The Waiting Room and Slowdown has built their credibility in the metro, while tours across America have resulted in firework fights in Alabama, countless moonshine shots consumed, and many nights sleeping in their van or strangers’ homes.

“Anytime we’re together, it’s a blast,” Bonar says. “So is performing live and seeing the reactions from first-time listeners.”

While the band is enjoying a hiatus from active gigging, they still play occasional shows around town, and they continue getting together for regular jam sessions—if for no other reason than to party like the rock stars they are.

“Success for us is all about being able to play kick-ass music while remaining the closest of friends,” McDowell says.

Visit bloodcow.com for more information.

This article was printed in the November/December 2017 issue of Omaha Magazine.

With A Beard and a Smile

October 23, 2017 by
Photography by Bill Sitzmann

Walking into Lookout Lounge is a different experience than entering other music venues around Omaha. Admittedly, it feels a little strange driving into a business plaza just south of 72nd and Dodge streets for a punk show. But what distinguishes Lookout (formerly The Hideout) is more than just location. It is the bearded man sitting at the entryway, checking IDs and working on his laptop, that sets this venue apart.

Raised in Copperas Cove, Texas, Kyle Fertwagner knew from a young age that his destiny lay in music. At 6 years old, he was mesmerized by blues concerts in nearby Austin. “Those experiences are ingrained in my memory. There were thousands of people out there enjoying music, sharing that common bond of whatever that music meant to them.”

By the time he moved to Omaha at age 15, he and his younger brother, Keith, were playing together in punk bands. They got their start at The Cog Factory. Like many area music fans, Kyle is eager to share fond memories of that nonprofit venue, which closed in 2002. “That was our stomping grounds,” he says. “That’s where I basically grew up as a musician, as a punk rocker, as a person.” Before their first show at The Cog Factory, Fertwagner recalls that the owners greeted the band and “it just immediately felt like home.”

Recreating that welcoming DIY vibe is what drove him to quit his job as general manager of a local restaurant and take over The Hideout in 2015. Keith had already learned how to work sound systems, and Kyle had learned how to run a business from years in the restaurant industry.

With “a little TLC” and a lot of elbow grease, the brothers made the place their own. Kyle proudly showcases a sign from the original Cog Factory over the pool table. Next to it is the hand-painted mural featuring the venue’s name and the radio tower logo that has become an Omaha icon. Endless layers of screen-printed posters paper Lookout’s walls, and concert-goers have enthusiastically decorated the bathrooms with a vibrant collection of friendly graffiti.

Kyle describes himself as “owner/operator,” but upon attending a show at his venue it is immediately apparent that he does much more than the typical owner. Besides personally welcoming patrons into shows and tending bar, he works the lights and often shadows his brother on sound. But before any of that can happen, “it starts with the band.”

When asked about his work with local promoters and artists, Kyle can’t quite hold back a grin. Lookout is known around Omaha as a starting point for bands that have never played in public before. Its owner is the main reason for this reputation. His voice softens when asked about his role in helping young local artists get their music off the ground: “I think it’s important when you’re first starting out to have a venue you can call home.” This determination to give back to the music community makes Lookout special.

Kyle’s unique philosophy on booking shows is “to not try to take everything on ourselves.” This means more cooperation between venue staff, bands, and promoters. “It’s a team effort.” The additional networking and communication is more work, but well worth it.

From his days in small punk bands growing up, he knows the obstacles and struggles of getting a band onstage. This knowledge helps him guide others through the process.“We try to use our experience to help younger bands grow,” Kyle says. “That’s good for everybody.” He is always happy to reach out to local promoters and say “we’d love to work with you.”

When Kyle works to foster those relationships to put a show together, that’s when the energy of the DIY venue is created. “It’s ‘Alright, cool, we did it, we sold the place out!’ Instead of ‘I sold the place out.’ It’s more of an ‘us’ thing.” Shows that are assembled with teamwork are more rewarding for the band, everyone behind the scenes, and the audience. Those packed concerts are a staple of Lookout’s imprint on the musical community.

After taking care of the band, Kyle’s next focus is his role as head of security. At any show, he can be seen roaming around the audience, keeping out a watchful eye for any sign of trouble. He accepts personal responsibility in creating a positive energy at Lookout, and takes the security of the audience very seriously: “People shouldn’t feel unwelcome here for any reason.”

In order to ensure that everyone feels welcome, anyone exhibiting abusive behavior of any kind will be personally warned and, if need be, escorted out by Kyle himself. He is quick to explain, “Anything that happens here I take to be a personal reflection on me.”

Visit lookoutomaha.com for more information.

This article was printed in the September/October 2017 edition of Encounter Magazine.

Kyle Fertwagner

Bien Fang goes Rock-A-Bye?

September 19, 2017 by
Photography by Bill Sitzmann

Rachel Tomlinson Dick’s pregnant belly moves her Fender Jazzmaster guitar sidesaddle. Head-banging, her short brown hair slaps the mom-to-be’s face while fingers fly over guitar strings at an April 28 show. Her co-writing and vocal partner, Katherine Courtney Morrow, jams next to her on a Fender Mustang bass. Morrow sings and sways in jeans, a black T-shirt, and a baseball hat. Nate Luginbill adds his own flair on drums with an understated head nod as his sticks slam along with the beat, not really aware of his surroundings as he tunes into the rhythm.

The trio combines forces in the grungy, stoner-metal band Bien Fang.

“We get all sticky when we talk about our genre,” Luginbill says.

The band came together two years ago when Tomlinson Dick was asked to do a solo Nirvana cover show. She wanted to add in bass and drums, so she asked Luginbill and Morrow to join her. Everything just clicked. 

“It is the smoothest songwriting process,” Luginbill says.

Morrow or Tomlinson Dick will bring in a riff or some lines. The group collaborates and contributes until it works, like putting the finishing pieces of a puzzle together. Tomlinson Dick says it is all about having conversations through music. Their first six-song EP release, Garbage Island, is a mixture of sarcastic vocals, distorted guitars, and heavy drum riffs. Rather than angst-filled lyrics, many of the songs are unusually uplifting. 

Morrow’s songwriting deals with body agency, or being in control of one’s choices, and not letting other people take advantage. “Push” explores the idea that when someone is shoved into the deep end, “I’ll scream like this.” She was once terrified to step on stage and sing, but gained confidence with Bien Fang. Morrow, 29, picked up her first bass just a few short years ago.

“Now I can have a good time,” Morrow says. “I’m happy to do it for others or for myself now.”

Tomlinson Dick, a sexual assault survivor, writes about real traumatic experiences. Leading with a murky guitar and a slower tempo, “Real Bad Man” is all about taking back power and healing with fierce lyrics like, “You can’t wash your hands clean of what they did to me.” She hopes her message will help other young women. Bien Fang has spread the word at such events as Rock Against Rape Culture: A Benefit for Voices of Hope. 

“The element of playing shows is connecting with other people,” Tomlinson Dick believes.

Tomlinson Dick once hustled for other people’s approval, picking up her first guitar when she was a freshman in high school. Now that she is older, her perspective has changed. She has something to say and “whether people like it or not doesn’t matter.” It was difficult at first for a woman in a male-dominated bratty punk world. Tomlinson Dick felt she had to nail each performance for all women. This impractical pressure was short-lived. She realized imperfection is messy and normal.

Luginbill, 27, isn’t intimidated spending time with two strong women and balances it by shredding guitar in his all-male punk band, Bogusman. He started his musical career at 15 years old when he “got in with the wrong crowd.” He traded his two South Park dolls for a Terminator guitar with a built-in amp and two nine-volt batteries. After a little web-searching, he learned Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water.” Drumming came later, after tinkering on his friend’s kit after sets.

Whether it is at the 1867 bar in Lincoln or O’Leaver’s in Omaha, Bien Fang tries to gig at least two times a month. But they have been on pause recently. 

Tomlinson Dick, 30, gave birth on June 11 to a daughter, Tomlinson “Linny” Thunder Darlington. Tomlinson Dick looks every bit the rocker-mom as she cradles her newborn: tattoos (including a skull which covers one entire knee), a nose ring, and old-fashioned cat glasses. 

Will Linny pull a Yoko Ono?

“Stefan didn’t break up the band, so why would a baby be much different?” Luginbill asks.

“Yeah, and Stefan is pretty needy,” Tomlinson Dick agrees.

Stefan, her black cat, glances up from his cardboard box.

Tomlinson Dick feared she would have to give up everything as a mother-to-be. She performed her last show when she was eight months pregnant, and she created a zine, “Moms in Bands,” for the Omaha Zine Fest to encourage herself before the big due date.

“Music brings wonderful people into your life,” Tomlinson Dick adds.

Corin Tucker, a vocalist and guitarist for Sleater-Kinney, relates to the struggle of being a musical mother.

“I don’t think men who are fathers in bands are being asked the responsibility questions about touring with kids—up until recently,” Tucker says (quoted in the zine). 

Tomlinson Dick has a very encouraging partner and bandmates who remind her she can still be a complete person as a mother. The group planned to head back into practice in late summer.

“When you love the music, sweating it out is so worth it,” Tomlinson Dick says.

Visit facebook.com/bienfangband for more information.

This article was printed in the September/October 2017 edition of Omaha Magazine.

From left: Rachel Tomlinson Dick (with baby Linny), Katherine Courtney Morrow, and Nate Luginbill

Have Marcey

September 14, 2017 by
Photography by Scott Drickey

When North Omaha native Marcey Yates talks about music, his face lights up and it’s as if everything makes sense in his world. From conversations swirling around hip-hop to his wild tales of past encounters with various artists, the 31-year-old lives and breathes his passion for music—and it all started at church.

Yates grew up on 49th and Fort streets, just north of Ames Avenue, where religion played an integral role in his community. The young Yates would often spend time with grandparents, who lived on 19th and Sprague streets, not too far from the home he shared with his mother and father. His grandfather was a pastor at the Church of God and Christ, and would routinely take him to service, where Yates started singing.

“I would say religion was big in my family and the black community,” Yates says. “It was definitely passed on through generations. Church got me into music on both sides of family, and it kept me in church until I was in high school. I sang in the choir.”

After graduating from Benson High School in 2003, he went on to take a few classes at the University of Nebraska-Omaha before leaving for Arizona, where he enrolled at the Conservatory School of Recording Arts and Sciences. By this time, his older brother Jeff had already introduced him to underground hip-hop and artists like Mobb Deep, Wu-Tang Clan, Slum Village, Jay-Z, and Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. He felt it was time to learn how to make his own signature style of music and establish himself as a credible MC/producer.

“I wanted to focus more on the tech side of music and the other side of the industry,” he explains. “I learned how to make this a business and not just be a rapper. I was able to get a lot practice working on my skill and style doing shows. I got turned down in Arizona, but I had some great experiences. I met Canibus [rapper], who told me about his beef with LL Cool J, and once I was with Method Man passing around a joint in the VIP section.”

Shortly after, the self-proclaimed hip-hop head relocated back to Omaha in 2012. Since then has put much of his energy into the hip-hop collective Raleigh Science Project, which he founded in 2009.

“I established the Raleigh Science Project after my last son [Raleigh] was born,” he explains. “It started as my imprint for my music, but I expanded into a collective after bringing artists on board who shared my vision on hard work and good music. [We had] a focus on building up the hip-hop scene in a positive light, so I wanted to strip the negative vibe associated with hip-hop in my community. That means consistency, quality, showmanship, and being professional.”

The father of three is currently working on the annual New Generation Music Festival—now in its second year—an all-inclusive concert that promotes community awareness, drives traffic and support to other local nonprofits, and provides a platform to retain local talent.

“Our mission is to provide a world-class music festival that promotes inclusion and provides economic opportunities for local businesses, organizations and artists,” he says. “We want to cultivate local talent and artistry as a means to a more secure and sustainable economy in the urban core communities. There are so many resources out here that the people don’t know about because information isn’t made readily available
to everyone.”

Aside from the festival, which is scheduled for Sept. 16 at Aksarben’s Stinson Park, the busy creative is working on a documentary about the life and times of Marcey Yates, a solo EP, a mixtape series titled Chicken Soup, and the Flamboyant Gods II project with local rapper Mars Black.

“I’m constantly working on a new project,” he says. “I want to be one of the hardest-working guys in
the industry.

“Music is the only freedom that is really free,” he continues. “There are no rules to making music. It’s total creativity and a space you can go to anytime. Music is your life soundtrack for every genre in your life—from comedy to drama to suspense. When I get depressed or really bugged out, I create music to pull myself out of the sunken place. Everyone should have a creative hobby or passion because what is important to you, you will cherish and be passionate about.”

Visit op2mus.bandcamp.com to hear Yates’ work.

Lunch With Buffett

August 13, 2017 by
Photography by Bill Sitzmann

With food-inspired songs such as “Charleston’s,” “Medium Rare,” and the album’s title track, the duo displays a penchant for sweet-sounding beats and aspirations to dine with Omaha’s most affluent resident, Warren Buffett.

They speculate that arranging lunch with the local billionaire would be easier than getting airplay on local radio stations.

“We want to be heard,” Big Tate says. “The radio DJ abides by guidelines that [forbid] touching the streets. They are afraid to challenge the norm.”

“Radio is stagnant,” Absolut-P adds. “It isn’t as influential as it once was. If we want to make an impact, we’d be better off putting together a lunch with Warren Buffett and creating a buzz from that.”

Or maybe just make up a song about having lunch with Buffett.

Big Tate

That sort of creative thinking would be the driving force behind Absolut-P (aka Stevin Taylor) and Big Tate (aka James Buckley) collaborating on the album.

The idea came from another friend’s fateful encounter with Buffett at a now-closed Omaha steakhouse known to be one of Buffett’s favorite local restaurants.

“A friend of mine happened to be eating at Piccolo Pete’s when she called to tell me that Warren Buffett and Bill Gates were sitting across from her,” Big Tate recalls. “I told her that I needed her to get a picture of them by any means. I’m always thinking of ways to promote our music with imagery and catchy choruses. I was sure that I could come up with a song for that image.”

Big Tate was familiar with Buffett’s history of auctioning off a “power lunch” for charity. In 2016, an anonymous bidder paid $3,456,789 for the experience, with the money going to benefit the Glide Foundation, a San Francisco nonprofit dedicated to helping homeless and underprivileged residents.

For months, Big Tate continued to stew over his idea. Later in 2016, he partnered with local producer Absolut-P (the P stands for “Perfection”), and they were able to create an infectious melody.

The song’s music video even featured a faux cameo by Buffett (thanks to a cut-out photograph of the billionaire’s face pasted over one of their friends).

They consider it an homage to the wealthy hometown hero.

“We’re from the north side of Omaha, and you don’t see those types of people on the north side,” Big Tate explains. “Other than Bud Crawford, it’s hard to relate to anyone on such a big stage. It’s good to look up to self-made men.”

Absolut-P

“As independent artists, Warren Buffett’s entrepreneurial spirit gives us a sense of self-pride,” Absolut-P says. “He shows us that by investing in ourselves we can reap big rewards.” 

One such investment involved professional mastering for the album by Rick Carson at Make Believe Studios. Absolut-P and Big Tate hope the song resonates with fans of hip-hop, Omaha, and Buffett alike. They released the album Dec. 31, 2016 (with a parental advisory warning for explicit content).

“The album-making process was so organic,” says Big Tate, explaining that hip-hop works best when pursued in a natural, fun way. “We just made songs about what we like; everyone likes to eat at a nice restaurant and order a good prime rib. That made us think of Charleston’s; they have some of the best steaks in Omaha. I like my steak well-done, but I’ve heard that they are very good medium-rare.”

When asked where they would like to take Buffett for lunch, both agree that Time Out Foods or The Taste’s of Soul Cafe would be a good place to accommodate them.

“I’m sure Warren Buffett is used to eating at the finest establishments,” Absolut-P says. “I’d want to give him a taste of our roots with some good food for the soul.”

Find Big Tate on Twitter at @BigTate402 and Absolut-P at @IAmAbsolutP. Both musicians frequently release new songs on social media. Their respective Soundcloud accounts are soundcloud.com/big-tate and soundcloud.com/absolut-p. Lunch with Buffett is available on iTunes, Spotify, Tidal, Spinrilla, Google Play, and YouTube. Copies are sold at Homer’s in downtown Omaha.

This article appears in the July/August 2017 edition of Omaha Magazine.

*Editor’s note: The printed edition misspelled Taylor’s first name as Steven.

Digital Daredevils

June 15, 2017 by
Photography by Bill Sitzmann

The masterminds behind Omaha band Glow in the Dark—Lawrence Deal and Aaron Gum—have always had an affinity towards musical instruments and toys. Since they were young, Deal and Gum surrounded themselves with a variety of ways to create sound, which consequently led to their obsession with electronic music. While the passion for it was easier to harness, coming up with a proper band name took more of an effort.

“It was really difficult to settle on something because it is important to have a name that really captures what you’re going for,” Deal explains. “I think Glow in the Dark does a great job of that because it has some elements of nostalgia, but also has some duality between light and dark. That sort of captures our musical style.”

“A band name becomes part [of] your identity,” Gum adds. “It can inform artistic choices beyond the music.”

Gum and Deal loved the contrast of something lighting up and coming alive in the dark. Gum, in particular, was drawn to glowing monster models/kits from the 1960s, and the name tied into some of the electronic instruments they use to create their music. From the sea of blinking LED lights on the modular synthesizers to the LCD screens of their vintage drum machines, light plays a starring role in what they do.

“It’s synth-based, so it’s definitely an electronic act,” Deal says. “However, it’s not just your typical ‘press play’ DJ act. Aaron plays all of the parts organically, and we use drum machines in the same manner.”

“It’s easy for some people to write off synth-based music as ’80s or modern electronic music as whatever latest sub-genre is popular at the moment,” Gum adds. “It’s OK to draw inspiration from your influences, but important to develop your own style.”

With its heavy synth sound and explosive melodies, Glow in the Dark earned an opening slot for famed ‘80s actor Corey Feldman’s group, Corey Feldman and The Angels, at Maloney’s Irish Pub, which drew a huge crowd due to Feldman’s bizarre behavior during a performance on the Today show in September 2016. The gig was the catalyst for getting their live show together, which they admit wasn’t exactly figured out yet. Up until this point, they had only been a studio act.

“We had barely talked about how we would go about performing any of [the music] live until news broke that Corey Feldman would soon be coming to town,” Gum explains. “Suddenly it was a real thing. This project that we had been slowly chipping away at in between our other projects had its first real live show, and we had two months to figure out how to transition a studio project into a live show. We discussed bringing in some friends to play parts, or even add parts, but eventually we kept it simple with just the two of us.”

Despite several hiccups, including Feldman running three hours late, their inability to set up their equipment ahead of time and countless last-minute changes, they managed to pull off the set, which Gum believes is a testament to the importance of being able to improvise and adapt to the situation as it develops.

“The crowd seemed to enjoy us,” Gum says. “It wasn’t your typical Omaha show crowd. A lot of these people are at this show only to see Corey, so that’s cool to be able to entertain them.”

Although Glow in the Dark is in its infant stages, it’s quickly gaining its footing due to Gum and Deal’s extensive experience in the musical realm. Despite the industry’s competitive nature, they’re clearly up for the challenge.

“We have both played music for most of our lives and probably wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves if we didn’t,” Deal says. “We don’t really concern ourselves with how oversaturated it can be, we just focus on making the best music that we can for ourselves.”

For now, Glow in the Dark is putting the final touches on its seminal full-length album and sending its latest video, “Digital Lust,” into the web stratosphere, so there will be more from the duo in the near future.

“For me, this is probably the project that I have been the most proud of to date,” Deal says. “It’s a group where I feel that I can really express myself, and we don’t put a lot of rules or limitations on each other. That is very refreshing.

“Making music is very special to me,” he adds. “It has the ability to really touch people, and that is a powerful thing. Even if it doesn’t, expressing yourself with music is a very positive outlet. I think everyone needs that in some regard.”

Visit facebook.com/glowglowdarkdark for more information.

This article appears in the July/August 2017 edition of Encounter.

Required Listening

June 11, 2017 by
Photography by Bill Sitzmann

For years, Chelsea Balzer and Matt Walker ran in the same circles, but somehow didn’t cross paths until Balzer joined the art performance group aetherplough in 2010 and was suddenly thrust into a musical relationship with Walker. Their undeniable compatibility was too much to ignore, and the duo soon formed their own outfit—Vital Organs—a band that fosters Walker’s unquenchable thirst for bold melodies and cinematic qualities, but is danceable at the same time. 

“Back in the day, I was exclusively into hard rock music,” Walker says. “In recent years, I had been dying to write something that made me want to dance.”

Balzer, on the other hand, gravitated toward country artists like Reba McEntire and early LeAnn Rimes because of her father, a loyal country music fan. 

“I would perform for our neighbors and their friends, which I think helped me develop that frontwoman identity from early on,” Balzer says. “But once I hit middle school, I was pretty into Alanis Morissette and Fiona Apple, and then soon after I got into stuff like Nine Inch Nails, P.J. Harvey, and The Cure. I’ve always loved vocalists who are brave and provocative—from Christina Aguilera to Zach de la Rocha.” 

Fortunately, Vital Organs isn’t their first endeavor, as aetherplough thoroughly prepared them for what they would do in the future. The collective was built on collaborative creativity and taught them how to compromise.

“It always felt a little like we had no idea what we were doing at the beginning of a project,” Walker says. “As more people threw in their ideas and questions, it would start to take on a life of its own, and suddenly you’re rehearsing a full piece that you all helped bring into being. It was magical.

“I would say our whole philosophy for creating and collaborating is informed by that experience,” he continues. “aetherplough taught us to say, ‘Yes,’ to go all in, to be flexible, and also to listen to each other in a dasdrtist, and I’m so grateful to have been encouraged to play and explore in that community.”

“I personally feel that it taught me to think of all art and performance as ritual that has the power to change its players,” Balzer adds. 

Officially established in 2015, Vital Organs dove right in and pulled from Omaha’s rich musical community, including Make Believe Recordings’ CEO/engineer Rick Carson. The Grammy Award-nominated producer worked on the group’s debut album, The Hysterical Hunger, a decision they didn’t hesitate to make once they fully realized Carson’s “rare combination of expertise, intuition, and top-notch gear.” The album itself gave Balzer and Walker opportunities to explore feminist ideals and the theme of honoring inner desires. 

“We were both going through some real loss, and we needed to rediscover some kind of inner guidance toward true north,” Balzer explains. “For us, that feels like a hunger. We liked the idea of reclaiming the word ‘hysteria,’ which has previously been used as a weapon against women and as a form of gaslighting, but ultimately implies that emotion itself is untrustworthy and that giving yourself over to an experience is dangerous and even insane. We feel that this message is really prevalent in society today and continues to cause harm. We wanted the album to be a way of proclaiming to ourselves and others that we are taking the leap and giving in to that hunger.” 

Drawn to synthesizers and soaring melodies, Vital Organs is actively honing in on its distinctive sound. However, they’re admittedly still trying to figure out how to navigate the rough waters as an indie band. 

“It’s a lot of work and also a lot of head-scratching,” Walker says. “We have been both discouraged and really honored by the process of getting our work ‘out there.’ Some aspects of it are much harder than we anticipated, and yet there are these people who seem to appear from thin air and develop this relationship with your music, and really want to help you succeed. That has been a beautiful experience.”

Vital Organs plans on hitting the road this summer, despite Balzer being in grad school in Boston and Walker busy working at Omaha Children’s Museum. They managed to carve out a few weeks to play some new cities and share the bill with other bands. 

“We know that the music will always mean something different to us than it means to others,” Walker says. “Every song reflects a time in our lives and a message we felt we needed to express. At the same time, we hear the songs and sort of forget that we wrote them. There is a kind of energetic release that comes from finishing songs and letting them exist in the world. It feels simultaneously intimate and mysterious.” 

facebook.com/vitalorgansband

This article was printed in the May/June 2017 edition of Encounter.

 

Pitch Poet

June 8, 2017 by
Photography by Bill Sitzmann

She sets up on a bustling Old Market corner. The footpaths jostle with tourists and locals doing their weekend shopping, dining,
and sightseeing.

Jocelyn Muhammad pulls the acoustic guitar slung over her back then slowly strums a chord that rings throughout the heart of the old-timey business district.

She massages sweet melodies from her guitar, but it’s not until the baby-faced, curly-haired 19-year-old songstress adds her silvery vocals that passersby stop to admire her. No one could escape her charm.

“I want to feel the breeze through my hair, through my hair,” she sings. “I want to go somewhere. I want to be someone. I want to fall in love just like everybody else.”

Muhammad’s voice flows freely at her top notes, pleasantly vibrating eardrums. She’s a showstopper—and a guitar-wielding poet of sorts.

A young musician relatively new to Omaha’s music scene, Muhammad’s voice has a textured, lived-in quality. Perhaps that’s her appeal. Caught off guard, spectators pause to hear her old-soul poetic lyrics and heart-on-her-sleeve folkie romantic songs, which are totally unexpected from such a young, jovial person.

Muhammad is a promising singer-songwriter who has already attracted an incredibly large social media following and the attention of the music industry.

A live, buzzworthy video snippet of her song “Just Like Everybody Else” recently went viral to the tune of almost 5 million plays on YouTube, even before the studio version was released in November. The 23-second clip, filmed on a few cellphone cameras, features Muhammad belting out the chorus of her song.

Taken aback, she was surprised her song reached people from as far away as Russia. It was a humbling experience, says the recent Millard South graduate. In fact, one fan wrote a song in
honor of her.

Songwriting is such an intimate practice and the truest form of flattery, she says. “It’s the idea of singing a song that you wrote about someone. The way they make you feel. And you get to put it to a melody and add words.”

Social-media savvy Muhammad stays connected with her fans through her music blog (jocelynmusic.com), YouTube, Snapchat, and Twitter. She documents her musical journey, taking fans along the quirky moments in studio sessions to interviews with the media.

Aside from hearing her from-the-heart work on Old Market street corners, fans catch her at open mic nights around town. She sings a mix of original melodies and covers about love and loss, loneliness and desperation, and pleas to find her soul mate. Under her musical belt, per se, she’s performed at open mic sessions at the legendary Whisky a Go Go in L.A. and the Bluebird Cafe in Nashville. She plans to return to L.A. this summer to finish piecing together her first record.

Muhammad got her music start at age 14. Though she participated in school choir, her happenstance of guitar picking came later when she rescued a black Indiana acoustic guitar dubbed “Black Bastard” from the flames of a friend’s bonfire.

She took it home and cleaned it up. She studied her favorite British singer-songwriter Ed Sheeran’s likes and dislikes. His musical preferences and tendencies influenced her own.

A friend taught her the fundamentals of guitar strumming—how to play a G on Cadd9 chord. Two weeks later, she wrote her first song, “Burn It Down.”

She couldn’t bottle up her newfound love for songwriting and guitar playing. So, she packed up her guitar and headed for the Old Market.

A few months later, she says she was introduced to Aly Peeler, who, at the time, was in charge of an open mic night for the then-Side Door lounge. Soon after, she met her current manager, Jeff McClain of Midlands Music Group, who offered her a placement in the group’s free mentoring program for budding musicians.

Muhammad is grateful that she has Peeler and McClain as soundboards to help her polish her melodies and lyrics. Still honing her skills, she says she owes Peeler and McClain for helping develop her talent through many lessons and repetitive exercises, which prepared her to perform live.

“I’m not going to let a melody be just a melody,” she says. “It has to be the right one. I’m practicing constantly…working to get better.”

When she’s performing on stage, Muhammad says, “It’s just me. It’s just me there, singing to you. There’s nothing else … no one else. Just me and you. And, I’m singing.”

Muhammad has been nominated three times for Omaha Entertainment and Arts Awards’ best singer-songwriter, but has yet to take home the hardware.

“I’m, like, the youngest artist there…so that’s really cool,” she says. “I’m still working on winning though. I’ll get there someday, but it’s cool just to be nominated.” 

jocelynmusic.com

This article was printed in the May/June 2017 edition of Encounter.

Mr. & Mrs. Fink

June 1, 2017 by
Photography by Bill Sitzmann

The evolution of CLOSENESS was quite literally a matter of the heart—not in a cheesy, romantic musing type of way, but the actual blood-pumping, life-sustaining muscular organ. Husband-wife duo Orenda Fink (Azure Ray) and Todd Fink (The Faint) are the masterminds behind the electro-dream-pop project. The couple say they always wanted to merge musical styles, but they could never quite find the time. Todd was touring in support of The Faint’s last album, Doom Abuse, and Orenda was involved in her solo work. As fate would have it, a frightening medical emergency involving Orenda’s heart temporarily brought everything to a screeching halt. In November 2015, she went under the knife to repair a birth defect that was
originally misdiagnosed.

“I had it my whole life, but never knew how dangerous it was,” Orenda admits. “They couldn’t believe I was still alive [laughs]. With my condition, I had a bunch of extra electrical pathways on my heart that were not supposed to be there. They had to get rid of them.”

“We realized there was no better time to do this,” Todd adds. “If we were going to do it, we had to do it now. After her surgery, everything became more urgent.”

Todd and Orenda have been a unit for more than 15 years, and it just so happens both are incredibly talented musicians in their own right. It was because of this shared love and compassion for one another that Orenda finally took her arrhythmia seriously. 

“I’ve had episodes my whole life,” she says. “A couple of weeks before I was diagnosed, my heart went into an abnormal rhythm. Normally, it would kick back in, but this time it just stayed. I was just so used to it that I was traveling, smoking cigarettes, hanging out with friends—but Todd was like, ‘Um, you need to go to the doctor immediately [laughs].’”

Orenda flew back to Omaha and went straight to the doctor. Two-and-a-half weeks later, the Georgia native was having heart surgery, which was the first time she’d ever had any kind of surgical procedure. What was supposed to be a three-hour event turned into 12 hours, but thankfully she pulled through. 

“Your heart is such an immediate thing—it has to be going,” she says with a hint of sarcasm. “It made us kind of realize how precious and fragile life is, I guess.” 

Back at home, she sunk into a depression, which can be common for heart patients. 

“When you are faced with your own mortality so intensely, you get depressed,” she says. 

Still recuperating in sweatpants and socks, CLOSENESS took its initial steps and Orenda quickly found solace in making music with her husband. 

“We started the band almost immediately,” she says. “It was cathartic. Something about that experience [surgery] made me realize now there were no more excuses not to do it.” 

On March 10, CLOSENESS unveiled its debut EP, Personality Therapy, and had its album release party later that night at Omaha’s beloved hole-in-the wall O’Leaver’s, where Todd and Orenda played to a packed house. Naturally, the Omaha music community came out in droves to support one of their own. Shortly after, the duo hit the road for Austin’s annual South by Southwest (SXSW) music festival and continued their road trip to New York City, something they’ve wanted to do for years. 

“We’re looking to tour as much as possible,” Todd explains. “It’s part of why we wanted to do a band with just the two of us—to be able to make kind of, like, a vacation out of it, where it’s just the two of us together, and we’re able to drive around in our car. It’s not like working. We don’t have to be away from each other to do what we’re doing. I am really looking forward to that aspect.” 

While traveling with other people has its merits, it also has its challenges. Oftentimes, the vastly different personalities can throw a wrench in the process, but for the Finks, it makes more sense. 

“We’ve been together for so long that our tastes have melded,” she says. “From what we like to do to where we like to eat—we just know each other. That’s one of the hardest parts about being on the road with other people—always having to compromise. This seems like a dream scenario.” 

Being a quintessential “rock-star couple,” however, didn’t always come easy. In the beginning, like all relationships, there were some hiccups, but it was nothing they couldn’t work through. 

“He got in trouble in the beginning years,” she jokes. “Not like cheating or anything, but figuring out what a married man can do—like he couldn’t go skinny-dipping with girls on tour anymore [laughs].”

“I thought the ocean was huge [laughs],” he replies. “You don’t get a manual when you get married. You don’t know exactly where the line is.” 

One big lesson they learned, however, is to not get caught up in the minutiae of everyday life. 

“Pick your battles,” Orenda says. “You have to keep the greatest good of the relationship as the highest priority. Everyone slips on that in any relationship. If you’re in a really intense working relationship together, you’re going to have friction. It’s figuring out how to deal with that friction. You want the outcome to be forgiveness and loving each other. If you slip up, remember that’s the ultimate goal.” 

“Winning an argument really isn’t worth anything,” Todd adds. “The goal isn’t to win. It’s to get back to a place of love.”

facebook.com/closenessmusic

This article was printed in the May/June 2017 edition of Encounter.