Archive for the ‘We Heart…’ Category

Brigid Dawson of Thee Oh Sees

Monday, March 12th, 2012

Brigid Dawson of Thee Oh Sees on garage rock, throwing TVs out windows, being comfortable with herself and not being allowed in the green room

Words: Sasha Hecht
Photos: Jody Rogac

Sitting in a divey Greenwich Village pub across the street from Le Poisson Rouge, where her esteemed garage rock band will take the stage in just a little over an hour, Brigid Dawson is taking sips from a glass of house red wine. She smiles welcomingly, considers each question carefully, and a responds in a mellifluous, gentle tone. Her gaze is unwavering, but never uncomfortably so; rather, it is inviting and, at times, vulnerable. It is almost impossible to believe that the poised, mild-mannered woman is the same one known to incite such feverish mayhem, crowds-turned-manic-mosh-pits leave nothing but destruction and half their body weight’s worth of sweat in their wake. As keyboardist, backing vocalist of Thee Oh Sees, Dawson is one of an increasing number of women redefining the notion of primal, gritty rock as “boys’ club.”

Originally founded as a way for John Dwyer to release his solo experimental recordings, today, Thee Oh Sees is one of the most prolific and innovative garage bands in a genre that is quickly becoming overwrought with cliché. With 13 celebrated full-length releases under their belt (two in the past 12 months) and having demolished crowds from condemned warehouses to cruiseliners, Dwyer, Dawson and company are undoubtedly some of the hardest working, hardest rocking artists in the business, with exuberance and enthusiasm to spare.

We caught up with Brigid before an NYC show to discuss what it’s like being a female musician in a scene often monopolized by machismo.

Garage rock is generally a bit of a “boys’ club” for the most part. Being a woman in the lo-fi, ostensibly “hard partying” scene, is it really as chock full of testosterone as it seems to be? Bros being bros, throwing each other around, getting bloody….

I have to say that most male musicians I know are really open-minded about women being creative and strong-minded and just fucking making music alongside them. Honestly, that’s all I really care about; that’s the most important thing. As long as nobody is trespassing on your freedoms, it’s fine. Of course they’re going to be looking at girls, of course they’re going to be talking tons of shit, of course they’re going to be constantly touching each other’s penises and all of that stupid shit, and that’s fine. That’s what guys do. We, women have our own silly shit that we do. When I was younger, it wasn’t like that, but now I feel like all the guys I know are pretty open-minded. They’re not saying shit like “Women can’t play guitar. Women are terrible musicians.” They’re willing to give everyone a fair chance.

Do you think that’s a result of a changing environment in the music scene or do you think that you just sought out musicians who were accepting in that way?

I don’t really know, because all I know is the musicians I play around. I don’t know what it’s like in other scenes. I would imagine a lot of it has to do with things slowly changing as we all grow up—more and more women playing instruments and being good musicians and being unafraid. Slowly, that changes the dynamic. Most guys I know want to have maybe one girl in the band. I don’t know why. Maybe because they think the dynamic is nicer?

There’s definitely an appeal to a garage rock band with a woman who can go out and hang just as tough as the boys. It adds a whole new level of fearlessness that defies certain standards.

Yeah, I mean, [female musicians] do have a good history for that; we have our Moe Tuckers and our Alice Coltranes. There are a million different women going way back and they could all hang with the boys—though it’s bullshit that we even phrase it that way. That just means that you then have to talk about what it means to be feminine and what it means to be male…

I’m glad that you mentioned that! I was originally going to ask you “Do you ever feel like you have to keep up with the boys?,” but then I thought, “Why isn’t it that the boys have to keep up with you? Why is there this stigma that the guys are going to go out and get crazy and have all the fun and the girl is going to be struggling to hang in there?”

I think that there are certain ways that we’re raised in society that marks us out as different, for sure. The way I was raised, I was taught to be a good girl, take care of my brothers, and put my brothers’ needs before my own. I didn’t come from a traditional family at all, but that’s how I was raised: to help my mum. A lot of women grow up with that. It’s probably different for younger women now, though—there’s less of that. I hate that there’s this separation though. There are guys that I know who act much more prima donna –i.e. what the world says would be the “woman’s role”—than a lot of the women I know in bands who are sometimes total troopers and stoic people who just do their job fairly humbly and happily.

What’s it like to tour with a group of boys?

Aside from all the personal comforts that any person would miss on tour, I miss my girlfriends. I really am the only girl almost every place that we go and you definitely feel like the odd man out. I’ve noticed that I’ve fallen into a more “male” way of talking to people, as opposed to the way I speak to my girlfriends on the phone.

I guess you’ve gotten to a point, professionally, where it would be completely inappropriate for any person working at a venue or in the industry to treat you this way, but was there any point in your career when people in music were outright discriminatory because you’re a woman? Like, “Okay, little girl. Leave this up to us…”

Jesus, well, when I was first in bands when I was 20, every single soundman, and this is across the board, was a total fucking cunt. They would never listen to you and they would do your sound however they wanted to hear it. I must say, now it’s different though, even in the time I’ve been in the business. I mean, I still get stopped going into the greenroom with the boys by security who are like, “Umm it’s just the band right now.” “I’m in the band. I know I look hella old, but you’ve just got to let me in. I know I’m not what most people expect a woman in a band to look like, but let me in, my friend.” [Laughs.] It’s silly shit like that that still happens, but that doesn’t really bum me out too much. It’s funnier now than anything. I’m super lucky, because I’m a side-man in this band, and I’m really content with that, so I don’t have to take too many things personally.

You played with bands before Thee Oh Sees. What kind of music were you playing then? What kind of music did you listen to growing up?

When I was growing up, I had a really great group of friends who were all record collectors. It was really amazing old stuff like rocksteady and soul and oi and punk rock, but me, I was secretly sneaking away to the record store and collecting all of these blues and jazz records. That’s what I really loved. I remember saving up all summer to buy a ticket to see Ella Fitzgerald when I was 15. I think singers tend to have a pretty wide-open taste in music, so I never felt like I was locked down to one particular scene.

Speaking of vocalists, John’s vocals tend to be gritty and raw, whereas yours have been described as the “silver lining.” What other ways, going back to the idea of being a woman in garage rock, do you think that your female influence offsets or balances potentially overpowering testosterone levels, be it in songwriting, touring, fan interaction, or just downtime?

I think it makes it easier for us to get hotels in the middle of the night. [Laughs.]

I know that [frontman] John [Dwyer] originally started writing [Thee Oh Sees] as a solo project. What’s it like joining something that’s already sort of established? Do you ever feel like you’re an artist featured on his songs?

I guess I felt that way a bit at first. I listened to his music and thought, “I’m super, super lucky to get to play music with this person.” And then now, after six years of being in the band, I feel more invested in it–more that it’s a project that belongs to all of us. Although John is totally the fire, I do feel like, if you took away any of the pieces, it would change it irrevocably.

So how did you get involved originally? Were you a fan of his music?

No, I actually made him coffee at a coffee shop I worked at. I had been living in London for a long time and had just moved from England to hopefully start playing music in San Francisco with people I really liked that I was really proud of. It was a total pipedream, but I thought it would be easier in San Francisco than in London, which is such a huge scene. So I ended up making coffee for John every morning and just talking. He was really a funny guy, made me laugh all the time.

Was there ever any romantic interest there?

Never. We can’t really do that in bands. I did it once when I was younger and when I wanted to split up with the guy, I had to leave the band. That was my big learning experience. Never again. I love John like a brother.

I can imagine, especially at this point. Plus, I feel like being creative with someone is such a vulnerable experience that, in order to trust each other creatively, there has to be an unconditional support and love for one another.

I have friends who are married and are definitely a couple and they play music together and it does really work. But they almost have their own isolated unit. It doesn’t work for everyone.

Yeah, look at Sonic Youth.

Or ABBA!

That’s probably the first time anyone’s ever name-dropped ABBA in a garage rock interview. Speaking of relationships, Ellen Campesinos of Los Campesinos recently wrote an article lamenting the fact that women in indie rock don’t get laid—Men have all these women throwing themselves at them, whereas women musicians don’t really get that. What is it like being a woman in indie rock, in terms of the way your fans interact with you?

I think that probably has less to do with being a woman or a man and has more to do with just the kind of person you are. I would imagine if I were on tour and really wanted to come home with a different person every night, I could probably work it out, but I don’t. I’m not interested in that. Sadly and cheesily, I’d like to fall in love, and that just doesn’t happen in that situation at all. I guess what I’m stoked about is just that I get to play music every night. I do have to say that I can see how girls act with the boys, though. For a while, it made me really bummed out. Like, “Really? Do you have no dignity?” It was just a little bit shameless, and guys are just not like that. Guys will sometimes talk to me, and if they do, it’s friendly. It’s never the hard pick-up or anything.

I mean, your visceral stage presence can definitely come off as intimidating, but most people wouldn’t expect you to be so sweet…

I guess. I just don’t know what garage rockers are really supposed to be like. All you can ever do—every one of us in our lives—is carry ourselves in a way that we think is right. I have no problem being a bitch when the occasion calls for it, but it rarely does. I’d rather enjoy the life that I’m living than put on a show. I was already too old for that when I started doing this. I already know who I am, and it’s really relieving.

Was there ever a moment when you stopped and looked at yourself and said “That was…really fucking rock and roll. This—what I’m doing—is rock and roll”?

I’ve definitely had some “rock and roll moments.” Maybe some of them I can’t say in a magazine. I dunno…I’ve thrown a TV out of a window before…[Laughs] It’s funny, because I look at myself and say “I should have been doing this shit in my 20’s and I’m doing it now.”

Thee Oh Sees’ latest release, Carrion Crawler/The Dream, is out now.

Pamela Love Gets Real

Monday, September 19th, 2011

From collaging to “rave days” to having Anna Wintour as a supporter, Pamela Love tell us how she made it big

Words: Mish Way
Photos: Jody Rogac

New York-based jewelry designer, Pamela Love is used to people asking if her name is real. Besides being in an industry where people often kick their run-of-the-mill last names for something a bit more memorable, the name “Love” has been appropriated by rock stars and strippers alike. But this Love was born Love. “It was really embarrassing growing up,” the 29-year-old, big-haired brunette tells me. “And people always assume it is fake. I don’t want to be one of those jack-asses with a fake name.” But “jack-ass” with a fake anything, Love is not. In the last four years, Love has built her own jewelry empire drawing praise from Anna Wintour, huge magazines like Elle and celebrities including her musical heroine, Royal Trux vocalist and 90 style icon, Jennifer Herrema. She has collaborated with fashion big wigs Zac Posen, Yigal Azrouel, Marchesa, Frank Tell, designed pieces for the popular series, True Blood and was the first American designer to team up with Britain’s Top Shop. The list goes on and rightfully so, because Love’s work is remarkably distinguishable–most famous for her eccentric, dark collections featuring bird skulls, talons, claws and anything associated with natural decomposition.

Walking into Love’s Chelsea studio in Manhattan, you are immediately tossed into the chaos. Young jewelers in smocks and gloves work away at the latest pieces of Love’s collection while mechanical buzzes from the machines fill the room. Downstairs, a team of young, professional women and men dressed in everything from blousey button-ups to ripped flannel, toil at computers mastering Love’s brand. The air is filled with the clutter of voices and Love seems right at home. The Queen Bee buzzing over her colony. As Love shows me around, she apologies profusely for the madness. Her label has been nominated for the C.F.D.A. Vogue Fashion Fund Award and her bees are busy making sure things are prepared. Suddenly, Love notices me gawking at the larger-than-life-size poster of her and “it-girl,” Alexa Chung on the wall. She sighs and quickly takes note of my stare. “It was a present,” she explains sheepishly with a charming grin. “I feel a little weird having my face on the wall.”

Love was born in New York City, but spent her youth bouncing through out South Florida from Orlando to Miami to Gainesville—which inspired some pieces in one of her collections, the “Miami-rave days” as she jokingly calls it. As a child, Love was a self-proclaimed “weirdo” always drawing, painting or collaging anything she could get her hands on. “I collaged chairs in my room. I collaged my Doc Martins. I had this briefcase that I carried around, I collaged that. Everything I owned was deco-collaged with magazines and then varnished. I still have my Doc Martins. One of the shoes is totally in tact and the other one is all peeling off.”

After her Florida days, Love moved back to New York City to pursue an education in art. She enrolled at the New York University Tisch Film School but like lots of young students getting degrees realized that was not what she wanted to be doing. “I wasn’t particularly interested in what went into making a moving image,” Love remembers. “But I was very interested in what went into making a still image.” After graduation, Love was lost and worn out from the rigorous work that seemed to be leading nowhere. She ended up working at a vintage store and apprenticing for the critically acclaimed artist, Francesco Clemente, who rekindled a spark in her creativity. She started styling for small publications in New York City, but Love always had trouble finding accessories she liked for shoots, so, like the self-starter she is, she started making her own. “The people I was working for were really into the jewelry I was making and one thing led to another,” she explains. “I loved [making jewelry] but I didn’t know the first thing about it.” So, she got her feet wet. Love chased down friends who were jewelry designers and asked them for help. She read books. She even found a job apprenticing for jewelers in the Diamond District in exchange for training. “A lot it was self-teaching and a lot was experimentation,” she reflects. “I didn’t know much but I was working with such experienced people I felt like I was in good hands.” Love devoted herself to her new craft and the rest fell into place. “Once I let go of all the other things, took the risk, [my line] took off.”

Nowadays, Love is no longer conducting a three-man operation. Her business has become larger than she ever dreamed and this presents ethical challenges or the pressure to mass manufacture overseas, but Love is thoroughly against it. “It’s something I will never do,” she assures me in a strict, passionate tone. What’s the answer then? “We hire more people. We get a bigger studio to accommodate more jewelers. We can respond to the increase in quantity, but our prices will not decrease like they would if we went over seas.” She pauses for a moment and her tone relaxes. “These pieces are supposed to be special and cared for. I hope that my customer understands my politics of design.”

For Love, jewelry has a deeper meaning than any other adornment or apparel. “Historically, people were putting jewelry on their bodies before clothing,” Love carefully lectures. “It’s a source of communication. Jewelry is like a tattoo or something, you don’t take it off. It becomes a part of your identity. It has that special power.” That is why she pays so much attention to the details, each piece carrying the signature Love-style of contrast, playing with the friction between oppositions.

But whether it’s pragmatic decisions or historical details, Love does her research. When creating a collection inspired by Native American traditions, Love traveled to residences in Arizona to research the origins of the jewelry she was inspired by and also worked with an organization for Native American teenagers that encouraged them to further in the arts. “I try to explore things very thoroughly and respect my references. You know when people make “punk” things but it’s clear they have never been to a punk show in their life? If you’re going to make a comment on something you should understand what you are commenting on.” She sighs and chuckles a little at herself. “I want to be the real thing.”

Louise Burns: A Pop Princess Reborn

Monday, March 28th, 2011

By: Mish Way
Photos: Michelle Ford

While most girls spend their youth in science class, soccer practice and idolizing stars, Louise Burns spent hers as one of these pop stars.

At eleven years old singer songwriter Louise Burns co-founded the all-girl pop band Lillix as the group’s bassist and vocalist. At fifteen Lillix was signed to Maverick records, the band members were relocated from their tiny hometown of Cranbrook B.C. to Los Angeles CA, where they started making their debut album. Being an after-school self-taught basement band who had previously written all their own songs, the major label whirlwind was a shock. “In our naive little heads we thought we already had hit singles,” laughs Louise.

Maverick execs brought on big talent for the young girls. They hired Avril Lavigne’s writing team to work on the Lillix album–Linda Perry (who wrote for Courtney Love, Christina Aguilera and Pink) and Glen Ballard (the genius behind Alanis Morrisette’s Jagged Little Pill). Essentially, they manufactured a “sellable” pop image for Lillix and even told the girls to lose weight before their debut album Falling Uphill was released in 2003. “What were we going to do? Go back to high school with our tails between our legs?”

Suddenly, Louise was on MTV seventeen times a day. She was recording at the famous Cherokee Studios on Sunset Boulevard where Motley Crue, David Bowie and Frank Sinatra all composed. She had Elliott Smith sit on her studio session, was hit on by Anthony Kiedis, became close with Madonna (Maverick’s mother hen), made a music video with Lindsay Lohan and jammed with Hole’s legendary drummer Patti Schemel. She was turning into a big deal and she had barely passed puberty.

But when Louise turned twenty, she quit the band and dropped out of the mainstream music world—an attempt to find herself without Lillix. “Time changes. Culture changes,” Louise says with a hint of sour self-reflection. “By the time you actually cultivate and create a star, people are onto the next thing.”

She played bass for the all-female rock group The Blue Violets achieving small successes on tours through North America and China, worked odd jobs like assistant managing a practice space and delivering equipment to the sets of music videos for washed-up rockers like Lover Boy. She tried different musical styles from shoe gaze to punk. She felt like a wannabe.

“That was a dark time,” Louise explains. “I was asking myself lots of questions while doing all these in between jobs and listening to, like, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. I felt bad about myself.”

After years of battling with her music identity Louise has completed her first solo album. Mellow Drama, which debuts on Light Organ Records on April 5th. “I just assumed because of my past experience with Lillix that people would judge me for writing pop music,” Louise admits. “Maybe people will think that I’m just some mediocre person trying to get a hit on the radio? It took me a long time to get over this but I have come to terms with the fact that I am a pop writer. You have to have a true love for your art and belief in your craft or else no listener is going to believe you.”

But after one listen to Mellow Drama, it’s easy to believe Louise. Songs like “What Do You Wanna Do?” and “Paper Cup” force you to tap along while moodier ballads like “Clean” and “Teen Angst” flutter through the room with questionable lyrical weight. The unlikely stand-out track is “Island Vacation” which begins bare-bones showcasing Louise’s incredible vocal dexterity and wise approach to melody construction. More importantly and personally, Mellow Drama is a conquest of the lack of control Louise has experienced her whole career so far.

“[This record is] a reflection of my early twenties and my transition back into normal-hood,” explains Louise in a voice that is both self-aware and slightly weary. “I had to really figure myself out and learn what kind of sound I wanted to represent to the world. I had to go through a lot of weird personal stuff before I could make this record.”

Louise talks about sound men and promoters. How they assumed she didn’t know how to use her gear. That most of the time she would just watch them toil with the technical problem on her amp pre-show, unplugging and re-plugging chords while she just sat back and watched. When they gave up, she would simply fix it herself. “[Sexism] was a catch 22 back then because I was both young and female and therefore not even a legitimate musician or person for that matter.”

“I had one promoter come up to me after a show and say, “Wow. You looked really good up there.” And I thought, ‘I can’t even respond to you. What does that mean? I didn’t play good but I looked good?’ I know I’m better than most male bass players because I have been playing longer so by default I am better. Don’t tell me that I look good when I know I am an excellent bass player.”

Louise chuckles a bit at her obvious confidence. “No one in my current friend circle has ever judge me for being a female musician,” she says. “I’m very happy with my music now. I feel comfortable.” She seems genuinely excited about her current position so far away from the mainstream pop world that raised her.

Mayer Hawthorne Makes Love

Monday, September 20th, 2010

Interview: Hana May
Photos: Kenza Chaouai

About to embark on a tour of the US, we take you to where Mayer Hawthorne was first. hearty magazine presents Mayer Hawthorne’s Firsts mixed by DJ Lady Sha. We all remember our first kiss, but what song will take you back there? Download the mixtape for free here.

With his Motown-inspired sound and wholesome, romantic lyrics, Mayer Hawthorne will transport you to a time of teenagdom past. It’s 1964, you’re cruising around in an Oldsmobile 442, and you can feel it coming–you’re about to have your first kiss. You’re at a school dance, scanning the room, ready to grab a partner and start jiving. Your family has sat down to dinner–Spam casserole–and your daddy decrees you are not allowed to date that boy from the wrong side of the tracks. 
Born and raised in Ann Arbor, Michigan–just outside of Detroit, the home of Motown–channeling this sound came naturally to Hawthorne. He also spent a lot of time driving around in his father’s car, listening to jazz and Motown. And while Hawthorne has neither the syrupy voice of Marvin Gaye nor the smoky chops of Teddy Pendergrass, he’ll whisk you away with his modern take on their classic sound.

As a teen, Hawthorne was a self-proclaimed over-achiever. “I did really well in school. I was really into music. I played in bands–punk bands and rock and funk,” he says. “Then I got really into hip hop when I was in high school, and I started DJing.” 
 
He formed two rap groups, Athletic Mic League and Now On, and the latter of the two took him to Los Angeles, where he lives now. “It was hard to make a living out of Detroit; there’s a lot of amazingly talented musicians out there,” Hawthorne says. “But very few of them are making a living out in Detroit.” That said, he still carries a torch for his hometown. “Besides my family, who all still live there, I miss the record stores and the food” he says. “I miss Lafayette Coney Island. I miss chili dogs. You can’t get a good chili dog in L.A.”

Despite his newfound proximity to Hollywood and all of its chili-dog-deficient glitz and glamour, things didn’t go as planned for Hawthorne and Now On. Around this time, though, Hawthorne met the person who would change his path. “When I ran into Peanut Butter Wolf, Stones Throw [Records] was already very established as a hip hop label. And he was trying to move in a new direction, so he wasn’t interested in hip hop, but he did really like some of these weird old soul demos I did in my bedroom.” 
 
Peanut Butter Wolf–who founded Stones Throw in 1996–asked Hawthorne to create a whole album of the weird old soul demo stuff he had made for fun. “So I did it,” Hawthorne says. “But none of us had any idea that it would explode like this.”

Hawthorne’s “A Strange Arrangement” LP led to touring all over the United States and Europe, selling out locations like Webster Hall in New York, and garnering attention from the likes of Ghostface Killah, who says Hawthorne’s music is fire, and Rolling Stone magazine, which called Hawthorne’s soul collection “jaw-dropping.”

Marketing tactics such as pressing Hawthorne’s “Just Ain’t Gonna Work Out” single as a 7-inch red heart-shaped record didn’t hurt, either. Even his press shots play on the retro romantic sensibility; in one, Hawthorne is surrounded by hearts; in another, he wears a vintage red suit and is seated behind a piano. Hawthrone has also produced videos for tracks like “I Wish It Would Rain” and “Your Easy Lovin’ Ain’t Pleasin’ Nothin.” His outputs suggests it’s all love, all the time, but is Hawthorne really the consummate lover? “I would say I’m a romantic guy, but at the same time, I’m also a very realistic person. I definitely live in the real world. There’s a certain level of romance that is only in movies.”

He definitely loves his label. Stones Throw is notably supportive of creativity and they essentially let him do whatever he wants, he says–which may be why Hawthorne is working on a variety of projects, from a new-age album with producer 14KT to a boogie funk album to a pop vocal record with his friend Sam Beaubien, who is “going to be arranging and conducting sort of Sinatra style–Michael Bublé, if you will, but cooler.”

And while a lot of artists are having problems with their labels these days, Hawthorne respects his. “Stones Throw puts out music they just generally love, and they don’t sweat it that hard, whether they think it’s going to sell a million copies. I think that’s why they’re so successful.” He also admires his label mates’ work. “James Pants is one of my favorites. Dam Funk is incredible. Obviously Mad Lib is a legend at this point. And Guilty Simpson, that’s my homie from Detroit.”

In the ’60s, Motown music brought people together, regardless of age or skin color. Influenced by the past as well as the present, Hawthorne hopes his music has a similar effect. “Definitely people my parents’ age have a completely different reference point for it, but I think it affects people different ways, regardless of age, and the proof is in the pudding.”

Hawthorne’s shows attract a range of fans. “We have hipsters and grandparents and hip hop heads and indie rock kids, and they’re all jamming to the same tunes.” It really is all about the love.

Pink Dollaz

Monday, April 12th, 2010

Photos: Kenza Chaouai
Interview: Mish Way

After being whisked away in a Hummer from a crowd of screaming fans at a show in Compton, the all girl L.A. hip hop group Pink Dollaz, met us for their photoshoot in Silverlake, California. During the shoot a man pulled up in his car desperately trying to get the girls to take his CD. The girls giggled, took the disc and brushed off this awkward swoop of fame by joking amongst themselves, posing for the clicking camera while sipping on their sodas. It was a day that has become typical for Pink Dollaz–concert, photoshoot, fending off fans–but being a superstar is a hard thing to grasp when you are still in high school.

The opening seconds of Pink Dollaz Jerkin’ hit, “Ball Game” is their twist on the baseball sing-along “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” The goofy sportsman melody is sung in a choir of mutilated, baby-girl Chipmunk voices: “Take me out to the hair shop/take me out to the mall/buy me some diamonds and Gucci bags/if you don’t I’ll never come back…” Then, the beat kicks in and the five ladies of L.A’s youngest female hip hop group, Pink Dollaz–Nilla, Reese, CeCe, Cammy B and Mocha–get going, rapping their way through razor-sharp jargon littered with references to sex, brands and boys. Imagine Salt n’ Pepper, but younger, fresher and as charmingly self-aware as any indie darling (and without the irksome affected naivete).

The ladies of Pink Dollaz grew up together in Inglewood, California, which is home to the latest underground rap scene called Jerkin’. Since the movement started at Hamilton High School last year, Jerkin’ has blown up to an international level catching the attention of major record labels such as Warner Brothers and Interscope and more importantly, transforming a generation of inner city L.A. youth, into skinny jean loving, “Tippy Toe” dancing, rapping, self-made hip hop artists, propelling them away from gang life. But, just like any underground movement, Jerkin’ risks the commodification of the dreaded industry. In the beginning, these were just a bunch of high school kids who DIY’ed their way into a new breed of song and dance through the viral, infectious ways of YouTube and MySpace. Now, many have embraced the open arms of major label success–Ranger$, New Boyz, The Bangz–while the Pink Dollaz or the “Queens of the Jerk Music Scene” remain unsigned, despite the 2.5 million MySpace hits, sold out concerts and ever-growing fan base. But Universal is interested. The world is interested and Pink Dollaz are not weary of the rapid mainstream success they have endured. In fact, they think they are exactly what the industry needs.

“First off, there aren’t a lot of girls in the industry at the moment,” says Pink Dollaz member, CeCe who–along with the other members of the group–is now home schooled due to her careers high demands. “Our whole point was to start a girl movement, you know? [Society] labels everything–it’s a man’s world and all that–but rapping is just rapping regardless of gender or race. Do not discriminate.”

In the last year, Pink Dollaz have collaborated with M.I.A, The Bangz, Diplo and most recently, New York dance-punk outfit, The Liars. Since the beginning they have released their own music videos and produced their own tracks (their early tracks were co-produced with the help of fellow P.E. student and Jerkin’ head master, J-Hawk). They have a new mix tape along with four new singles scheduled to be released this month. They are still only 17 and 18-years old.

Lightening quick success aside, what sets Pink Dollaz apart is their attitudes about femininity, which becomes evident through their brazen, tell-all lyrics. Besides rapping about fame, cash, sex and independence, Pink Dollaz go deeper (literally), especially in tracks like ‘Tasty’–a song dedicated to a girl getting hers and getting off. Some might write-off this sexual chitter-chatter as trite or unnecessarily explicit, but that would be missing the point because beneath the initial shock-value, Pink Dollaz are re-claiming female sexuality. At a time where most young girls in North America are being told to shut their legs, shut up and denied access to the resources to develop a healthy sexuality, Pink Dollaz call attention to the reality of female sexual pleasure.

Everything Kiely Williams is doing wrong, Pink Dollaz are doing right.

“We’re the voice of the women,” asserts CeCe speaking on be-half of the group. “So much of this world is sugar-coated and we came out raw, just spitting to what people are really thinking about and because of that everybody is like, ‘Yeah, the girls wanna go hard on the boys now.’ We declare our sexuality as women because we are often over looked and underestimated as women. Pink Dollaz are here to prove woman can do whatever the guys can, if not better.”

Rapping a lot about sex in their earlier tracks, Pink Dollaz have evolved onto different themes. They are, after all, teenage girls which means the battle between culture, perspective and self is a continuous evolution. Pink Dollaz think that rapping strictly about sex limited them to “only saying the things the guys say about the girls” since then, they have molded their lyrical game to new levels. It’s this kind of sharp perception that makes Pink Dollaz unstoppable.

The “magic” happens when they write together. The first few Pink Dollaz tracks were written while the girls (who have been good friends for years) were just hanging out on the weekends. “We finally put our minds together and decided to make one song, J-Hawk [the producer] he was going to our school at the time and he helped us make our first song,” says CeCe. “All the girls came to my house, we had a slumber party and we wrote ‘Never Hungry’ and we went to [his] studio the next day. J-Hawk heard our lyrics and he really liked it but he wanted to do ‘Tasty’ first because he had a beat he’d never used and he wanted to it be used on us. We went crazy over it. So, we did ‘Tasty’ first, then ‘Never Hungry’ the same day, came up with our name, Pink Dollaz and then…we just sky rocketed.”

As far as inspiration goes, CeCe tells me she has deep respect for old hip hop legends like Biggie Smalls and Tupac, “[Their music] it soothed me, rocked me. They speak real.” But her number one influence is Michael Jackson. When he passed away, she and Cammy B went to UCLA hospital to pay their respects and take in the madness. Besides admiring his music and energy during performance, CeCe–who describes Melrose Avenue as her “best friend”–likes to employ M.J.’s look into her personal style. “A lot of the time when I perform I’ll come back and do an old school Michael Jackson look with the vest, glasses – I love glasses, that’s my favourite look – then I’ll mix it up with some cowboy boots… I am very bold.”

Pink Dollaz energy in their live shows is summoned from their childhood dreams of being in the spotlight. Cammy B tells me her heart was always in the entertainment business, she has always wanted “to be that person on TV”

“In the beginning, I just wanted to go on stage and rap,” she says. “Now that we have developed fans, I really focus on bringing myself, how I feel in that moment, I go hard. When we’re on stage we want to be known for killin’ it. Beyonce kills hers, but we want to do it in our own way. A way no one has done it before.”

Pink Dollaz exude an undeniable positivity that can only be found in fresh, emerging artists who haven’t been jaded by the industry yet. They tell me they don’t worry about the haters, “because they are our fans in disguise” and one can do anything she puts her mind to. It’s a blind optimism that comes from riding high so young and hopefully it won’t fade as the Pink Dollaz grow up into full-blown super stars.

“I stay humble,” Cece says. The line may be hackneyed but her tone–almost breaking with a swell of sincerity–makes it clear she really means it. “Regardless of what is going on around me, whatever could mess me up in the head, I just try to relax and stay calm.”

“I keep telling myself, I’m not there yet,” adds Cammy B. “[We] got more work to do. I just tell myself that I got to keep working harder.”

Flying Lotus

Monday, January 25th, 2010

For your listening pleasure. Mood music to read the feature with if you will. We got the exclusive release on FlyLo’s new track featuring Jose James, Black Magic. Something we have supported in the past, including making a hearty Black Magic Woman tank.

Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

Black Magic ft. Jose James
Photos: Kenza
Interview: Hana May

Everyone has heard the sounds of DJ and producer Flying Lotus. If you slept through his ridiculously well reviewed 2008 album Los Angeles, then you’ve at least heard his catchy, ambient stylings segue between episodes of Adult Swim cartoons. But the only way to really hear Flying Lotus’ music is to catch his show. After all, FlyLo, as he is known by fans, incorporates new material into time-tested favorites when he plays. “It’s so fun to present these ideas and surprise [myself and the crowd],” Flying Lotus says. “Wow, I didn’t know you could flip this thing like this to make it sound like that.” Plus, a FlyLo show is a physical experience. Forgetting his inhibitions when he steps behind the decks, FlyLo moves his whole body along with his beats. “I’m not one of those kinds of dudes that’s like too cool, I still like to have fun when I go out. I’m a fan of music.”

Born in The Valley as Steven Ellison, and raised by a single mother in Winnetka CA, a district in the San Fernando Valley region, Ellison was an only child until he was 10.  “I always felt out of place where I grew up,” he says of the primarily Latino suburb. With no siblings to play with and having trouble relating to kids in his neighborhood, Ellison was a bit of a self-described loner. He kept himself entertained with hours of Nintendo–a life-long obsession whose primitive electronic sounds would eventually haunt his music like a Pac-Man ghost .

After high school, Ellison was adrift. Wanting, a post-secondary education, he tried going to the New York Film Academy in The Big Apple, but couldn’t get with the pace. New Yorkers freak him out. He also took a stab at film for a bit, but found there were too many people involved in the process of producing a work. Finally Ellison found his music. His mom encouraged him to send some of his beats to Adult Swim, an adult-oriented cable television network that features primarily cartoons. They used FlyLo’s music on promos for The Boondocks, a cult hit and political cartoon. This is where he began to turn his hobby into a livelihood.

A well-established underground favorite, FlyLo is starting to make a splash in bigger circles. He lives in L.A., plays shows globally, runs his Brainfeeder record label, and is never without a box set of Ren and Stimpy DVDs (his favorite cartoon). He’s starting to produce for others, but is selective about the artists he’ll work with. “I just want to work with people that are trying to do good and send out good vibrations on this earth,” Flying Lotus explains. “Seriously, there are enough negative forces out there.” This spring Flying Lotus will continue to spread the positive vibes with his latest album, Cosmogramma, on Warp records.

The name, Flying Lotus, comes from his ideal superpower. “When I was a kid I would always bother people about super heroes and I was like, ‘Ok if you could have any superpower in the creation of comic books what would you have, x-ray vision, you could be like invisible, what would you do?’ I wanted to fly. That’s it. That’s all.” He believes a good song can give you that flight sensation. We caught up with Flying Lotus to talk about fan collaboration, video games, the end of the East Coast-West Coast divide, how indie rock is destroying the universe, and 50 Cent.

What’s it like living in Winnetka?

It’s really interesting it’s a crazy mix pot of people. I grew up in a mostly Mexican neighborhood. I definitely saw California through a different perspective—in a good way. And I think being around all different kinds of people around helped shape me. I don’t know too many artists coming out of The Valley; it’s like Wal-Mart Land. But its really hood too, so it’s strange.

And you have to drive everywhere?

Yeah, just like anywhere else in LA.

That’s so crazy to me.

You in New York?

Yeah, so I walk or take the train.

It’s weird I always find myself freaked out by New Yorkers.

Why do they freak you out?

I can understand  why someone would want to live in New York, but it’s definitely a different kind of person.

It seems producers are starting to have more important live element to their careers, more live shows and touring. Why do you think is happening now?

For one, we have the technology that’s available to us and that plays a huge role in it. Also it’s so fun to present these ideas and surprise ourselves. ‘Wow, I didn’t know you flip this thing like this to make it sound like that.’ So it’s almost part of the studio process now.

Your mom encouraged you to send your beats to the Adult Swim TV Network. They ended up being used as a promo for The Boondocks, which is pretty cool. Where else is it being used?

They’re all over. I mean every night they play at least one or two. It’s a funny way to start a conversation because a lot of young people are tuning into that stuff.

Were you super excited about that?

I’m still super excited. I’m still super surprised because I don’t really watch much TV and when I do watch, it’s usually that, but I’ll just be chilling and I’ll be like, ‘Damn I gave them that song!’ Or ‘The way the looped that was weird.’ It’s very strange when I’ve got friends over.

What’s your favorite cartoon?

Ren and Stimpy.

You’ve spoken about coming from a Nintendo generation. Where does your obsession with video games spawn from?

Just being alone. For a long time I was an only child, I didn’t have another sibling around, ’til I was about 10, so it was just me and my mom. And my mom was just trying to be a young woman and just have fun. I spent a lot of time by myself playing Nintendo. So all those songs they just loop over and over and over again. I’m trying to wean myself off of that stuff just because it’s almost become sort of a subgenre, a niche thing and I’m not really interested in that.

What do you mean?

It’s becoming a trend and I didn’t really set out to do trend music or fad music, I’m just trying to make music.

If you could create a video game what would it entail?

If I could make a video game, wow. If you would have asked me that question when I was 11, I would have been over the moon. That’s a pretty deep question you’re asking me.

[Laughs.] There must be something you’ve thought of before.

I’ve always wanted to make a video game where you were a guy from a horror movie, like Michael Myers, where you were actually the killer and it was up to you to like lock the house down. You’re in the house and there’s six kids in the house and you have to kill all the kids and they can’t escape.

That’s dark.

It’s pretty fucked up. But it adds to that whole Grand Theft Auto thing, for once you get to become the slasher. You can’t run you have to creep slowly. So you have to like set up everything and lure people into certain rooms so they’ll stay there. You can’t go through the front door you have to like go around the side.

What’s your opinion on the thought that video games are killing kids ability to interact?

I’m a victim of it. Since I’ve been using a computer, I don’t read as much and I don’t have as much time for stuff as I did before. If I can’t get my information in 5 seconds, I’m like, ‘Meh.’ Even with YouTube I’m like, ‘Ah man, I gotta watch this, how long is this video?’

Oh its over 3 minutes? Never mind.

[Laughs.] Is there some funny-faced kid cause if it’s not man, I don’t know. It’s getting bad but you know that’s what happens, were supposed to get so advanced that we lapse or something.

You’re very physical when you DJ. Where does that come from?

I’m just having fun. Getting into it. I’m not one of those kind of dudes that’s like too cool, I still like to have fun when I go out. I’m a fan of music, so I’m still going to engage. And you know again it’s so fun for me to be up there you know pushing all these buttons. It’s like choose your own adventure. I could be on one thing and just go to something else. It’s almost like a video game in itself. [Laughs.] I don’t want to get too geeky on you.

Do you have a production routine?

There’s no routine really I just need to make sure I got weed and blunts and a bottle of water. You know that’s it and there’s never really like, ‘I’m going to make a tune now’ [In a stuck up voice.].

How does the West Coast production scene differ from the East Coast?

Now, I think about in terms of kids from the U.S. and kids from Europe. I think things are blending so much that for me the electronic thing isn’t really popping off as much as it should be in New York. I don’t really see much of a community thing going on over there. With indie rock though, y’all are fucking destroying the universe—the rock shit is really popping off over there, that’s dope. But as far as the sonic electronic scene I feel like kids from The States, do it different than kids in Europe.

What would you say the main differences are?

I feel like in Europe, they definitely tend to make music a lot harder. Everything’s a little bit more like, “grab you by the balls” where people in The States tend to give you more melody, trying to make it more musical I guess like “the club” is so much more serious in Europe and I think people keep that in mind when they’re producing like, ‘I’m going to make a tune that’s going to kill the room.’ Back here it’s more like, ‘I’m going to make a tune that’s going to be great for my walk to the subway.’

Are you producing for other people?

I’m trying to extend my reach a little bit—trying to work with other folks. But I do feel like my productions are like little children. I don’t wanna leave my kids with the wrong folks. Also I’m really concerned with vocals sometimes they give me stuff and its like, ‘I wasn’t even on this tip when I was making this tune.’ Which is sometimes great, but a lot of times I find it to be really negative and dark. I don’t really want my music going in that direction. Like even if it sounds like it’s that, there is more to it. I don’t want all that killing people and shit in my music.

That sounds pretty dark.

Well you know it’s kind of accepted now.

You think it is?

Yeah pretty much. Everyone loves 50 Cent, everyone is on that shit, that shit’s dark. Like a lot of the lyrics that I hear in hip hop are negative, that’s just the truth. I just want to work with people that are trying to do good and send out good vibrations on this earth. Seriously, there are enough negative forces out there. Even if they’re not killing people its juts like people who are making music that like kills culture and killing art and the idea of art and the idea of progression. All that shit is death.

Totally or it’s like music that’s being made for it not to be music but for it to make or push a certain star.

That shits been so weird too. And the way people you’ve probably seen the way people talk on Twitter. Have you found that you might have liked someone’s music and the you started following them on Twitter and your like you know what actually this guy is kind of a douche bag.

I feel like that about friends.

Twitter is weird. Like the good morning Twitter. Ech, like don’t do that man.  Not everybody deserves a good morning I’m sorry. Some people should just not be acknowledged today.

Where’s your heart at?

My heart is in the lab right now and I’m just trying to find the thing that everybody’s been searching for. You know people truly seeking the message, the music, the vibrations and I’m on a quest now more than ever.

Related Posts with Thumbnails