Big Daddy Love Feature- Virginian Pilot

To say that the modern folk-rock revival has taken over the nation's airwaves would be an understatement.

Just try scanning the radio dial without the tuner landing on a foot-stomping, banjo-driven ditty.
That's good news for Big Daddy Love, a North Carolina quintet that boasts a sound the members have dubbed "Appalachian Rock."

"Imagine if Led Zeppelin had grown up on a dairy farm in the mountains," joked the band's banjo player, Brian Swenk. "That's one of the ways we like to describe our vibe."
It's a clever descriptor.

More important for the musicians, however, is the time they live in. As the saying goes, timing is everything, and right now it's cool to be a folksy rock band.

From recent Grammy winners Mumford & Sons to indie-folk hipsters the Avett Brothers, down-home rambling has never been cooler. But make no mistake: Big Daddy Love isn't simply chasing a trend. The band comes by its musical pedigree honestly.

"We didn't live anywhere near a big city," Swenk said of growing up in Sparta, N.C., a small town in the Appalachians, about 10 miles from the Virginia border. "In the mountains, playing music is a way to get together and be social."

The terrain also inspired a deep affinity for nature.

"There's a lot of mountain and river imagery in our lyrics," Swenk said. "Growing up in Appalachia, you're really in tune with the environment. When you turn 16 and can drive, everybody would meet by the river to just hang out and play."

Those teenage jam sessions featured everything from North Carolina bluegrass to the music of the South's favorite sons, the Allman Brothers. It's a repertoire that informed the band's inventive mash-up of musical genres.

"We really think we're on to something good," Swenk said. "Somehow we've been able to mix bluegrass and Southern rock and make it work."

Big Daddy Love, which plays The Jewish Mother Backstage in Norfolk on Saturday, first made waves at FloydFest, an annual music festival held near Floyd, Va., in the Blue Ridge Mountains. In 2010, the group beat out approximately 30 other acts to win the festival's new-band showcase. "That was a real game-changer for us," Swenk said. "It put us on a whole new level and created some new opportunities."

One such break was an invitation to open a home-state gig for Willie Nelson last summer.
"Halfway through our set, the crowd was on their feet and dancing, which was an amazing experience," Swenk said.

Now based in Winston-Salem, N.C., Big Daddy Love released its debut album, "To the Mountain," in 2010 and "Let it Grow" the following year. Next up is a live CD/DVD slated for release next month.

"We are really excited about the video," Swenk said. "We got some neat footage with a camera that was attached to the headstock of the banjo and electric guitar so we were able to capture some close-up shots of some furiously fast flying fingers."

Tight musicianship aside, Swenk seems most proud of Big Daddy Love's following, which rivals that of a jam band when it comes to devotion.

"Some of our fans wanted us to make a video, so they hosted a party and raised almost a thousand dollars. That's how we were able to make this DVD. We get to know our fans as good friends and try not to keep some type of wall between us and them. I think they really respond to that."

Preservation Hall Jazz Band-Virginian Pilot Feature

Ben Jaffe wants people to know a few things about his hometown.

"For too long, people have portrayed New Orleans as this fool's playground of Bourbon Street, beer and beads," he said. "New Orleans is church on Sunday and red beans and rice on Monday. It's playing music with your friends and staying up all night to watch the sun rise."

Forgive Jaffe if he sounds like an ad by the Louisiana city's visitors bureau.

The guy has passion for his hometown, and the art that has made New Orleans one of the most distinct cities in America.

But even though he was born to the son of the founders of the Preservation Hall Jazz Band and raised in the French Quarter of the Big Easy, Jaffe didn't quite "get" New Orleans until he was mature enough to appreciate it.

"This city has a real identity, and it wasn't until I was older and had traveled the world a bit before I fully understood just how unique my neighborhood is," he said.

Now, as creative director and tuba player of Preservation Hall Jazz Band, Jaffe's passion is to carry on the mission his parents established more than five decades ago: to nurture and perpetuate the art form of New Orleans jazz.

The group, which plays the Attucks Theatre in Norfolk on Sunday night, derives its name from Preservation Hall, the vintage Crescent City music venue founded by Jaffe's parents in 1961.
The band, a vital link to the beginnings of this uniquely American music, celebrated its 50th anniversary last year.

"The fact that you can trace the bloodline of our membership all the way back to the early days of jazz is just so special," Jaffe, 42, said.

Many of the group's charter members performed and recorded with such jazz pioneers as Louis Armstrong, Jelly Roll Morton and Buddy Bolden.

Through the inevitable lineup changes that come with any long-running organization, the Preservation Hall Jazz Band continues to represent the indigenous music of New Orleans.

"This band embodies all of the things that make our city so distinctive," Jaffe said. "It's so important to me that we continue to embrace that."

Even so, he knows that cultural traditions evolve over time.

"I think it's important to acknowledge that the Preservation Hall Jazz Band does not live in a bubble," he said. "We are a living and breathing institution. You have to keep moving forward, otherwise you become stagnant."

To that end, the seven- piece band is gladly embracing the 21st century. "We are not interested in being a museum piece," Jaffe said.

By collaborating with an array of contemporary artists, the musician works to introduce more people to the rich musical tradition of New Orleans jazz.

In 2010, the group recorded with bluegrass great Del McCoury and indie rocker Ani DiFranco on the record, "Preservation."
Two months ago, the rock group The Black Keys invited the Preservation Hall Jazz Band to perform the Keys' hit song "Lonely Boy" during the Grammy Awards show broadcast.

The Preservation Hall Jazz Band's latest alliance is with Jim James, frontman for the experimental rock act My Morning Jacket.

"He also played on our 'Preservation' album, and we became good friends," Jaffe said. "Now he's co-producing our new record."

The disc, which is slated for a summer release, will be the band's first album of all original material in its long history.

"Right now, we're focused on our next 50 years," Jaffe said. "We want to expose as many people to the music as possible, and if we have to go out there and do it one person at a time, by God, that's what we're going to do."

Sex Pistols' Glen Matlock Feature-Virginian Pilot

Glen Matlock was just 19 when he became one of the four most notorious people in England.

That was in 1975 when Matlock was a founding member and bassist in the Sex Pistols, the seminal British punk band.

While frontman Johnny Rotten was the face and voice of the insolent band, Matlock was the chief architect behind the punk rock classic "Anarchy in the U.K." and the sneering anti-monarchy anthem, "God Save the Queen." Both songs made the Sex Pistols public enemies to much of the English isles.

Even though Matlock provided the melody and lyrics for 10 of the 12 tracks on the band's groundbreaking album "Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols," he was eventually replaced by Rotten's best mate, Sid Vicious. Rumor has it Matlock got sacked for being a Beatles fan. It makes for a good myth, but in his 1990 autobiography, "I was a Teenage Sex Pistol," Matlock wrote that he left the band in 1977 of his own volition.

The musician went on to form the new wave pop band The Rich Kids, toured with American punk icon Iggy Pop and rejoined the Sex Pistols for various reunion tours between 1996 and 2008.

He's mellowed a bit since. On Friday, Matlock, 56, brings his Acoustic Anarchy tour to The Jewish Mother in Virginia Beach. He'll be joined by former New York Dolls guitarist Sylvain Sylvain, who was added to the bill after Tommy Ramone had to cancel.

During a recent phone conversation from his home in London, the musician talked about his punk past and the appeal of going unplugged. With his gruff cockney accent, he's not the easiest guy to understand, but here are a few of the highlights we were able to decipher.

The Filthy Lucre
"It's a laugh that the media said we were selling out when we reunited. Could we have done five tours if people weren't buying tickets? So if the chance comes along and we get offered some good money, why not do it? You might as well give people what they want.
"People hang on to the Sex Pistols, all their memories, hang-ups, relationships, lots of things, I suppose. But it's never going to be the same as when we started out... because the socio-economic political climate is different now. It was a product of the time.
"I am proud of what the Sex Pistols achieved and always will, but whatever we all do individually will always be measured against that. It was such a big deal that nothing is ever going to eclipse that."

Sid & Glen
"The era of the Sex Pistols was a very intense period, and when John started getting in the magazines it upset the power balance and it all fell apart. I was sick of it.
"People think I hated Sid, but it's not true. We weren't the best of chums, but we were neighbors and we used to go drinking now and then. We even did a one-off show just to prove that we weren't enemies. We called it The Vicious White Kids.
"The thing with Sid is that he was a really good rock 'n' roll singer. I mean he certainly had something going for him, he just wasn't a bass player. He was atrocious. But as a frontman for a punk band, he would have been very good."

Punk goes acoustic
"I consider myself to be a songwriter above all else; that's my art form. It's like being a carpenter. If you're a carpenter, sometimes you need a chisel and sometimes you need a mallet to get to the final result. That's kind of what I'm doing when I write a song, and it all starts on the acoustic guitar.
"I think the audience gets more out of a performer with an acoustic show. There's no hiding behind all that noise and equipment. It's actually much more nerve-wracking to do an acoustic show, but that's why I do it. It's an occasion to get in the ring, so to speak. I've done this kind of tour a few times now, and I keep getting asked back, so people must like it, or maybe they're just manic."
Anarchy in the AARP

"I know my audience is a bit older now. The thing I like to do these days is to have a laugh instead of going on about politics. I don't ever write out a set list because I just want to go with what the crowd is getting off on. Some of the people that have grown up with me don't necessarily want to come to something that is going to bring them down. I'm just having fun. I've got nothing to prove at this point."

Dropkick Murphys Feature-Virginian Pilot Newspaper

For 17 years now, the Dropkick Murphys have drawn inspiration from the blue-collar streets of Boston to create raucous anthems with a mix of merriment and mayhem.

The seven-piece band, which plays Wednesday at The NorVa in Norfolk, recently released the record "Signed and Sealed in Blood," which doesn't stray far from the punk-rock energy and folksy Irish spirit that fueled the group's familiar and rousing Irish rock anthem "I'm Shipping Up to Boston."

Since being released on the band's 2005 album "The Warrior's Code," the song, featuring lyrics from a Woody Guthrie poem, has become an integral part of the cultural lexicon. It provided the soundtrack to the Boston Red Sox's 2007 World Series championship season and was prominently featured in Martin Scorsese's 2006 Academy Award-winning Irish mob drama, "The Departed" - as well as playing in various commercials, video games and even an episode of "The Simpsons."
During a recent phone conversation, bassist and founding member Ken Casey was game to share a few stories about the Dropkick Murphys' signature song, from its Guthrie connection to why the band became more selective about licensing it.'

Bound for Glory

Woody Guthrie's daughter Nora was turned on to us by her son. He told her that we would be a good fit to record some of Woody's lyrics, so she invited us to look through his archives.
There were thousands of pages of lyrics that were never put to music. All of his papers are on microfilm now, but I was one of the last people to touch the actual pieces of paper they were written on. I had to sit in a special climate-controlled room and wear these white gloves.
It was really cool reading through all of these pages of, oftentimes, deep, mind-boggling lyrics. Then I stumbled upon "I'm Shipping Up to Boston," which has all of four lines, but I thought it showed a more lighthearted side to Woody.

the Boston Red Sox are world champs again!

Jonathan Papelbon, the Sox closer, used to come into the game with (the song) "Wild Thing" from that Charlie Sheen movie ("Major League"). A local DJ didn't like that song, so he conducted a poll for people to pick a new song for him to use. Ninety-eight percent picked "I'm Shipping Up to Boston." Someone played it for Papelbon and he liked it, so he made the switch.
The funny thing is the Red Sox have asked us to be involved twice. In 2004, we did the song "Tessie," which they still play at Fenway when the Sox win. So we were involved in 2004 and 2007 (World Series championship years). They haven't called us since. I'm not saying anything, but we're 2 for 2 in 90 years so they might want to rethink that.

the Oscar goes to...

I had a lot of friends who had bit parts in "The Departed" when it was shooting in Boston. They were all telling us, "I'm gonna get your music in the movie." Right before it was in final edit, we got a call from Scorsese, and he told us he loved the song and wanted to use it in the movie.
Turns out he heard the song because his musical director, Robbie Robertson from the Band, played it for him, but of course all my friends tried to take credit for it.
Scorsese was really nice to us. He let us use a lot of raw footage from the movie to make our music video, and we got to go to the premiere in Boston. When the song came on, it really stood out. I almost fell over in my chair.

ending the overkill

We're being a little bit more picky about licensing the song now because everyone and their mother is making a movie or a show about Boston. Now everyone's starting in with the reality shows. Wait till you see this new show "Wicked Single" on VH-1. It's premiering on St. Patrick's Day. The producers asked us if they could use the song, and we said no because the show is horrible. It makes the "Jersey Shore" people seem classy.

C.J. Chenier Feature-Virginian Pilot

C.J. Chenier doesn't get it.

"I can't understand why the music industry doesn't take zydeco music seriously," said the musician during an early-morning phone call from his home in Houston.

In case you're wondering, Chenier is a zydeco musician, specializing in the accordion.
Just the night before, Chenier and his Red Hot Louisiana Band had performed their feel-good, accordion-driven music to a raucous, sold-out audience.

"You see shoes flying off and 8-year-olds dancing with 80-year-olds," said Chenier, 55, of a typical gig.

It's all the more reason to wonder why zydeco hardly manages a blip on the pop culture radar outside of Mardi Gras season.

"I don't understand why it's so low on the totem pole as far as the business end goes," Chenier said. "They should be promoting it more because people love this kind of music."

Born in the bayous of Louisiana, the genre may not be a mainstream regular, but, with a rhythm and style that can get a crowd jumping like crawfish in a pot of boiling water, it certainly has a substantial following.

"I call it happy-feet music," said Chenier, who plays the Corner Pocket in Williamsburg on Saturday. "You don't ever see a sad person at a zydeco party."

Chenier's father, Clifton, was known as "The King of Zydeco." Chenier didn't plan to follow in his father's footsteps. Growing up, he played the saxophone and listened to funk music. He earned a music scholarship to Texas Southern University, but his academic career was short-lived.

"I was the type of guy who needed my mama to wake me up for school," Chenier confessed. "I missed all my morning classes because I was in the band and we had to practice from 5 at night until 2 in the morning. I was not doing all that well, so I decided to leave."

Chenier was working on an oil rig when his father called him with a more enticing job offer.
"My daddy asked me to play the saxophone in his band, so I decided to go on the road," he said.
That first tour proved to be significant for the younger Chenier.

"It was life-changing," he said. "The whole world opened up to me. I had never been anywhere but the South. I never even left Texas except for a couple trips to visit relatives in Louisiana."
By 1985, Clifton Chenier's health was in decline. He could no longer manage his 40-pound accordion, so his son took up the squeezebox. After Clifton passed away, C.J. assumed leadership of the Red Hot Louisiana Band.

The group, now widely considered to be the reigning kings of zydeco, was nominated for a Grammy for its latest release, 2011's "Can't Sit Down." The disc includes covers of music by artists you wouldn't expect to hear in zydeco mode, like alternative king Tom Waits and funk legend Curtis Mayfield.

"No matter what type of song it is, I can zydecorize it," Chenier laughed. "The thing that made me fall in love with this music is that you don't think about it, you just feel it."
Chenier wants his audience to embrace that carefree philosophy, especially on the dance floor.
"I'll tell you the truth, when I'm onstage I hope that people don't start two-stepping," he said of the popular country and western dance.

Is that because the steps involve more head than heart?

"That's it exactly," Chenier said. "When people two-step, they feel like they have to figure out how to do it right. If people are just learning, I have to adjust my playing to make sure they can count their steps. I want people to just let go. I promise you we will all have a lot more fun."

Sixpence None The Richer Feature-Virginian Pilot

If you made your sweetie a mix tape/CD in the late '90s, chances are the playlist included "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None the Richer.
The sugary audio valentine, featured on the pop rock band's 1997 self-titled release, was an inescapable radio hit in the back half of that decade; and was featured in the TV teen drama "Dawson's Creek" as well as being the theme song for the romantic comedy film "She's All That."

So, what's it like to be the voice that launched a million high school romances?

"It's a bit of a double-edged sword," said Leigh Nash, the woman who sang the track. "It's an adorable song, but it's kind of taken on a life of its own. So it's sort of become this albatross."

Ironically, the band's best known tune almost missed the cut on the album.

"Matt didn't even want it to be on that record," Nash said of her partner, guitarist Matt Slocum. "The song didn't really fit with the rest of that album, but the label insisted for what became pretty obvious reasons."

Despite worries over being perceived as one-hit wonders, Nash says she understands the pop culture relevance of "Kiss Me."

"It's wonderful that the song still means something to people. We're certainly not embarrassed by it."
And it's not like Sixpence None the Richer vanished from the radio charts after its first monster hit.
The group, which plays The Attucks Theatre in Norfolk on Friday, went on to record such candy-coated pop favorites as "There She Goes" and "Breathe Your Name."

There's every reason to believe the hits would have kept coming had Sixpence None the Richer not decided to call it quits in 2004.

By then, Nash and Slocum were ready to move on. The pair started the band as teenagers, and young adulthood brought new priorities. Slocum's wife was pregnant with their first child; Nash was newly married. It felt right for them to take some time to focus on their family lives.

Four years later, Sixpence None the Richer's two central figures reunited for a Christmas album, and in 2011, Nash, a devout Christian, released a solo album, "Hymns and Sacred Songs." Although spiritually fulfilled, Nash still felt a void.

"I missed the camaraderie," she said of working with Slocum. So last year, the longtime friends released "Lost in Transition," their first new album of original material in 10 years.

"I think it's very pure," Nash said of the duo's musical connection. "There's something interesting about the way his writing and my voice mix together. We both consider it a gift that we happened to grow up in the same town. We formed a partnership as kids, and now we're in our 30s and we're still making music."

Still, Sixpence None the Richer's second act isn't without its challenges.

"I've gotten discouraged about what I do for a living plenty of times," Nash said. "I didn't go to college, because I was on the road or making records. It's hard to make a living at this, so it's a financial issue, not because it's so hard being a musician."

Even so, Nash believes payment isn't always monetary.

"I had a woman tell me her brother had not been out of the house in years. I'm not sure what his issue was, but he came to our show. She was tearing up when she told me. It was pretty overwhelming," Nash said. "Just recently I had a father come up to me after a show with his two girls. He said, 'I want you to know that your music has been the soundtrack to my daughters' lives.' Those kids have been listening to my music since they wore born. That's an incredible feeling."

Churchill Feature-Virginian Pilot Newspaper

It might be easy to assume that a young band getting airplay on alternative radio would display a healthy dose of hipster swagger.

Not with Churchill.

"We aren't very cool," laughed the band's singer and guitarist, Tim Bruns. "Actually, our goal is to not be hip at all. The last thing we want to do is get caught up in any kind of trend. We want to make music you can still listen to 20 years from now."

Despite Bruns' modesty, it's tempting to argue for Churchill's hip appeal.

With its unique hybrid of folk, rock and pop, the band is part of a Denver, Colo., music scene that's becoming increasingly cool and relevant to the national stage.

As proteges of fellow Mile High City act The Fray, Churchill consistently sells out shows in its hometown, and its song "Change," was recently named a "Single of the Week" on iTunes. And like another fellow Denver act, The Lumineers, Churchill blends contemporary pop appeal into songs crafted by folk and old-timey instrumentation. And, like its Denver band peers, Churchill is reaping some radio play with the style.

"We just played in Tennessee, and someone came up to us and said they had just heard 'Change' on the radio," Bruns said. "It's weird, but also awesome, that our music is being played in all these different cities."

That happens when your sound has been favorably compared to the current folk rock king, Mumford & Sons.

"We don't think of ourselves as really similar, but we're certainly not offended if someone else does," Bruns laughed. "I saw Mumford & Sons last summer, and it was an incredible show. I left just ready to take on the world. That's what we want to do: leave people pumped up and hopeful."

Bolstered by the male/female vocal interplay of Bruns and Bethany Kelly, Churchill is actually more reminiscent of a classic rock band formed decades ago.

"We are big Fleetwood Mac fans," Bruns said. "They are probably our biggest influence. 'Rumours' is our all-time favorite record."

In fact, Churchill, which plays The Jewish Mother in Norfolk this Friday, often manages to bring down the house with its mandolin-fueled version of Fleetwood Mac's hit "Go Your Own Way."
Churchill's reputation for high-energy, charismatic performances has been a work in progress. When the quintet first emerged on the Denver scene in 2009, it wasn't as comfortable onstage, and it showed.
 One negative review in particular compelled the band to step up its game.

"It wasn't very flattering," Bruns said of the critique. "Since then, we've put in a lot of work on our live shows."

From Michael Morter's show-stopping instrumental dexterity on the mandolin, to band-led crowd singalongs, Churchill aims for an interactive performance.

"Personally, I don't have a lot of fun at a show if I feel like I'm watching a presentation," Bruns said. "I want to feel like I'm a part of it."

Churchill is putting the finishing touches on its first full-length major label album, slated for release in late spring. If the band has its way, the record will find its audience, but it would be just fine if it doesn't become a monster hit.

"We want to keep growing as a band, and that takes time," Bruns said. "I think if you're willing to be patient, it's usually better than trying to blow up right away."