Toad the Wet Sprocket Interview

By Doktor John

Modern rock. Alternative rock. Indie Rock. No band epitomizes those terms or is a better representative of the breakaway style of music that spanned the two decades which straddle the year 2000.
Starting out in the 80s as a high school garage band in the Santa Barbara area, Toad the Wet Sprocket was aiming for nothing more than “open-mic” success. Yet in the early 90s, Toad climbed from the obscure college music scene into the mainstream.
Independent and aided by ASCAP (The American Society of Composers Authors and Publishers) they produced two albums, Bread and Circus and Pale. Eventually signing with Columbia, Toad reached an early pinnacle, scoring two platinum albums, Fear and Dulcinea and placed songs on such notable movie soundtracks as “So I Married an Axe-Murderer” and onto the TV soundtracks of “Friends” and “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”
Splashy guitars, letter-perfect arrangements and Glen Phillips’ plaintive vocals impart a unique, melancholy sound that is somewhere between heavy and soft-rock, driving such unforgettable singles as “Walk on the Ocean” and “Fall Down.”
Oh, and the wildly incongruous name, Toad the Wet Sprocket, was chosen from an absurdist Monty Python skit.

I caught Glen Phillips on the phone this March and found him a thoughtful person, mild-mannered and intellectual, but with understandably unsettled feelings about the future prospects for musicians.

It’s my understanding that you established Toad in 1986

Right around that time, although Todd and I had been playing and writing songs, together maybe from 1985

When you were only—how old were you?

We were in high school. I was a freshman, they were seniors, in a regular public high school.

Now the other members of the group, Todd, Dean and Randy, how were the four of you acquainted?

They all knew each other growing up. Some of the guys, they went to the same church. Todd had the guitar.

You studied music in school?

Apart from being in choirs, no. I got fired by my guitar teacher because I wasn’t any good at following directions. It was just your average band formed by high-schoolers who got together to play, practicing in garages and we called it a band.

How did it transform into a serious music group?

This was one club around town, called “The Shack”, close to where we lived, which helped, because my dad would drive me there
The guy who ran it didn’t want to pay any performance rights to ASCAP, so you weren’t allowed to play covers there. At every other club you had to do covers, but we were at the one club where you had to do originals. So we started writing a lot early on and so developed those skills just out of necessity. In that sense we were very lucky.

Who actually writes Toad’s songs?

It depends. I write some of the songs. Todd and I write some together. He might come in with music and I might add a part. Since we broke up Todd and Dean have kind of become a writing team. Sometimes I just kind of finish things up after they’ve written a song.

While on the subject of creativity, what were your influences? Where does your unique sound come from?

I have no idea. In those days we were listening to everything, including, certainly, the Beatles. In high school I was really into Rush. Before that, in grade school I was into disco. When we started Toad I’d gotten into metal and into punk.

Can you name any other artists or groups that you were listening to when it dawned on you that you had the wherewithal to create your own stuff?

Todd really turned me on to post-punk bands like Husker Du and the Replacements, a little of Elvis Costello. Basically a lot of stuff with that punk energy but with a much more literate bent.

In those days there was a genre that preceded the term “alternative rock” and it was “College Radio.” How did you and the group relate to that genre, if you recognize it as such?

At that time, Nirvana, and with it the term “alternative,” had not yet broken onto the scene, but what had been college radio was starting to enter the mainstream. I could see that my private stash of music had suddenly become public.

You guys really hit it big in the 90s. Were you shooting for that level of success and recognition in the music world?

No. I kind of knew early on what I wanted and it was not to get into anything competitive, into self-promotion or selling myself in any sense. I had a drama teacher and I saw that he became a teacher because he loved teaching and the theater. He didn’t want to be a salesman for himself and summon all that ego and the drive of pursuing whatever it is that pushes people.

You used him as a role model?

Yeah, so I just was playing music for whatever, but I just wanted to go to school, go to college and then become a teacher.

In what? Music?

Yeah, that or even social sciences. I thought I might go into cultural anthropology. That side of things really moved me.
And so, we had the band, and the first two records were made completely independently, and we put them out in town, and we had a lot of fun playing and we assumed that like a summer it would end I was moving up to San Francisco to go to college and the band was going to break up.
But what happened was there was this friend of a friend, Nick, from ASCAP who liked our tapes. I didn’t even know him at the time. He was dubbing copies of our tapes in his office and sending them off to record companies. And then I got signed when I was 18.

He apparently had good musical taste. He knew that it was good stuff!

Yeah and that’s the great thing about ASCAP. It’s a great organization and they really help. We would never have had the drive or ambition on our own without them.
Just as an aside, when we broke up, I had to suddenly manifest that drive, and I’ve been really bad at it!

So who in the band is then responsible for pushing the success of Toad?

We all have an artistic drive, or ambition for our music, and we’ve been lucky that it has gotten us as far as it has, because none of us is very good at the business part of it.

That attitude of “take us as we are” is evident in the music.

Sometimes our sound is embarrassingly earnest. (laughs)
In a way that’s why we have our audience, because when we came out people were competing so hard to be “heavy.” When we first started to get play on the radio it would be next to Hole or Green Day or Henry Rollins. It’s like we were making music for nerds when it wasn’t fashionable to be a nerd.

Toad has a couple of platinum albums and is featured on movie and TV soundtracks but somehow remains just below the mainstream radar. What’s that like?

I suppose it’s nice that way. On the other hand, everybody would like to be a little more successful. But when we were more recognizable, it used to make me nervous. But a little notoriety goes with success. When I went independent and solo—and so I was less well known— I felt like I had to always audition for my job.

What form of success would you really like?

Stability. Like having the same management for more than just one album. I’m not counting on labels anymore, because that’s to a large degree gone. And I no, I won’t waste my time being bitter. I guess I just want to be able to make a living making music I’m proud of. I’m not young and I’m not without responsibilities anymore.

Doesn’t everybody want to be a rock star?

I think wanting to be a rock a star is one of the lamest, lowest desires in the world. I really don’t get kids wanting to be famous for fame itself. There are people— nobodies, really, like the Kardashians—who are famous just for being famous.

You mentioned responsibilities. You have kids?

Yes, three.

And based on your knowledge of the field, would you advise them— if they have the aptitude—to go into music?

I would advise them to follow their passion. But, no, I wouldn’t advise them to go into music as a career. They work at gymnastics, my kids—on the trapeze and such—and they learn from it that you need to work harder at whatever you want to excel at.

What’s your take on the future of the recording industry?

Humans been making music longer than we’ve been talking, and record companies are based on very recent technology when you look at it in terms of human history. I just feel that the recording industry is just a weird technological blip. People made music and people listened to music long before there was a music industry. At this point musicians can’t be monetized in the same way that they have been.

It’s a different world.

People will still make music. People will still want to hear music. We need to figure out new ways of how we distribute it and how make a living out of it.

So what’s the solution as you see it?

People are going to have to go back to seeing themselves as patrons of the arts. It’s not about album sales anymore. You can’t make a living selling records.
Maybe fans with a sense of stewardship will form collectives. There’s this concept of a “home concert community.”
Some are coming to realize that people nowadays are basically stealing music. Musicians have still got to eat. Maybe artists are going to have to live on the proceeds of live performances. We’ve done our share, sometimes performing at a hundred live shows in a year. Keep in mind that this isn’t Canada or Scandinavia where the government issues grants to performing artists.

Finally, let’s talk about more mundane and imminent issues. When will Toad the Wet Sprocket go on tour?

We’re just about to start a nationwide tour. We’ll be in New York at Irving Plaza on April 7.

What’s going to be on the playlist?

There will be a lot of the familiar stuff that is known and that people want to hear, but since last year we started writing again as a band. There’ll be a couple of new songs, and a couple of songs off of the solo records.

Is the new material intended to go into a new album? Is an album in the works?

We’re really early in the writing process and won’t likely even start recording for a new album until next year.

Who do you like that’s out there now?

There’re still great artists out there in the mainstream. I think of Mumford & Son, Death Cab for Cutie, Arcade Fire and MGMT.

And the future for Toad the Wet Sprocket?

Creatively, at this time, we’re at a high point.

It’s been great catching your insights on these things.

Thanks.

Social Distortion/ Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes/ Epitaph

By Doktor John

This newest album by the resurgent ‘80s “punktry” group Social Distortion comes in two versions, regular and deluxe, the former containing eleven and the latter 14 songs.

Times and styles change, and bands themselves evolve. Frontman Mike Ness has forged a solo career of late, and this album reflects his delving heavily into what he calls “roots” music, mostly good ol’ country and western with an added element of blues.

A lightening-fast, two minute instrumental overture titled “Road Zombie” starts the set with twangy guitar showmanship followed by bluesy, autobiographical “California (Hustle and Flow).”

“Gimme the Sweet and Low,” “Diamond In the Rough” and “Far Side of Nowhere” are each in the melodious country-rock style into which Ness lately crosses over.

“Machine Gun Blues” rises to a symphonic level, with retro-themed lyrics and a cinematic narrative. “Bakersfield” is a six-minute magnum opus in the form of a lament for a faraway gal containing a Johnny Cash-style, spoken-word confession of obsessive desire for her company.

“Alone and Forsaken” is a minor-key, dark Gothic poem in the “cemetery-and-western” mode that is just beneath the surface of much of Ness’s works.

“Can’t Take It With You,” a clichéd piece of pseudo-gospel nonsense, far below the musical standards of the group, should not have been included in this album. Otherwise the rest are great retrospective of the rockabilly lifestyle — utterly sincere, with equal doses of regret, honesty and the personal tenacity characteristic of Ness’s late, autobiographical works.

Rating A

In a word: True to form

October 29, 2010 saw the Annual New Dark Age Halloween Costume Festival at The Cathedral, hosted by Marzena & Doktor John
Speaking of Doktor John, here’s the Teutonic Knight himself sans helmet while sampling Bailey’s Irish creme.

Here we see three puppies, one of whom is believed to be hiding yet a fourth under her costume!

And the beautiful hostess posing with the Vampire Family

Terry and Lee made a pretty sight!

Christopher seems tame here in the warm embrace of Ania Rogalski. Wouldn’t we all !!!

The handsome and fearless Ian Michael Hughes appears here as an animal trainer!

Bride of Dracula Tina with Monk Joe Vance and Gypsy Ann Marie

Dennis sampling the spread prepared by the tireless Marzena

Here’s the ever beautiful, ever frightening Laura Drager

And in her full magnificence

Talk about frightening! Nancy (nee Guzzo) menaced the crowd as herself!

Christopher Ambrose continued menacing the crowd with his sword

Joe Syverson appears in drag in red cap, on the right of picture.

Later, Joe Syverson re-appeared as the mysterious “Joe S”

Buzz Lightyear settled down to chasing laser lights that swam around the Cathedral

Then there’s the orthopedic chief resident as a tooth, accompanied by his own personal tooth fairy, appropriately a dental surgeon subspecialist in real life!

Athletes to the bone, Ellen and Matt came as…athletes!

One of many vampires, Josep Pla and the luscious Laura Drager

No party is complete without its complement of cuties, in this case, Doria and the most beautiful Goth-Chick title-holder, Lisa!

Doria seen in the center here. New-comer to Doktor John events, and likely to be seen at all future events

We always enjoy having Mike Attilio and Rachel

And my favorite late-comer cousin and his friends, Atom Syvo!

The Sons of Dracula!

The Bronze Serpent Column of Istanbul

A 25-foot high, 2500 year-old bronze column sits in the middle of Istanbul (formerly Constantinople) representing the oldest surviving Greco-Roman artifact in the world. It originally had a trio of snake heads at the top, serving as a tripod for a golden sacrificial platter, and was created for ceremonies celebrating the turning away of the Persian invasions under Xerxes by the Greek alliance of city-states in 478 BC.

The Emperor Constantine had it moved from the famous temple to Apollo at Delphi (remember the famous “Oracle at Delphi?”) to his capital city, Constantinople where it now stands. Constantinople, of course, became Istanbul under the Ottoman Turkish Empire.

At the end of the 17th Century, it was vandalized by Christian invaders from the West, leaving the column, but without the snake heads.

After viewing the stunning column, Marzena and I hunted down the one remaining snake head kept at the Archeological Museum in Istanbul and took these pictures during our vacation in Turkey last year.

In honor of this magnificent monument, I sculpted the 12″ model replica shown below on the weekend of August 13 and 14, 2010.

This painting was completed August 2010, and represents a scene at an outdoor restaurant adjacent to the spectacular Fairmont Chateau Frontenac Hotel, and is based upon several photos shot during lunch.

View of Paterson’s Historic Passaic River Falls
Acrylic on Canvas Board
34″ X 24″

At long, long last, the painting that has sat neglected on my easel for perhaps a year, now completed this day. Prints may become available in the near future.

The National/ Radio City
June 16, 2010
By Doktor John
New York

Few events are as disappointing to a music-fan as a poor performance by a favorite band. In the past few years, The National has been catapulting from Cincinnati obscurity to Brooklyn hipster notoriety to national (no pun intended) renown on a perfect mix of clever melodies, offbeat rhythms and poetic, self-effacing lyrics delivered by frontman Matt Berninger’s velvety, understated baritone.

This night, besides Beringer, there were one or two alternating backup vocalists, a couple of keyboards, guitar, drums, bass and a brass duo with trumpet (or such) and trombone. They played favorites like Secret Meeting, off the album Alligator and Squalor Victoria off Boxer; plus plenty from their latest release, High Violet, such as Bloodbuzz Ohio, Anyone’s Ghost, Afraid of Anyone and Conversation 16.

Their live performances, two of which I previously had the pleasure to attend, have provided joyous, transcendent moments of musical rapture. Why did this all fail to happen this night?

Radio City’s performance by The National went wrong, very wrong in every particular. Something about this grand, imposing venue must have provoked an insanely inappropriate intent to overstatement and bombast, the last things one wanted to hear from The National. Instead of singing in his inimitable, warm style, Berninger screamed his words, discarding all the musicality of his lyrics. His soft baritone was transformed into harsh barking.

The National usually employs touches of brass for neat, limited color accents to the songs, but here a trumpet and a trombone blasted prolonged, piercing cries over and in opposition to the melody. The bass drum and bass guitar were so disproportionately loud and thunderously deep that the audiences’ chest cavities shook, even way up in the second and third mezzanines. The people in front of me were holding their fingers in their ears to shield against the criminally painful highs with which the sound team assaulted us.

The only song in their repertoire for which this kind of chaotic, noisy approach actually worked was the hard-rocking Abel, which we heard as we exited early from the show, disappointed at being unable to enjoy the performance but still convinced that The National is one of the best bands to come along in the new millennium.

CD Review
The Night’s Last Tomorrow
Mark Sinnis

This is the third CD released by the frontman for Cemetery-and-Western band, Ninth House, and it is rich with both new material and mature, acoustic reinterpretations of older songs, often featuring brave and innovative instrumentation to accompany Mark’s bitter-sweet, chocolatey vocals. Some songs have appeared on Sinnis’s two prior solo albums and Ninth House recordings. Mark hasn’t dropped his unwavering focus on death and how awareness of it causes us to see life’s experiences in a certain light.

The opening track, “The Night’s Last Tomorrow” epitomizes this concept, and reaches heights of languid sadness thanks to the moody lap-steel guitar of bluesman, Lenny Molotov.

“15 Miles to Hell’s Gate” has a more frustrated, angry tone, whereas “Your Past May Come Back” is surprisingly upbeat and showcases Marks’s amazing, mellifluous vocals.

The “western” in “Cemetery-and-Western” is evident in “Fallible Friend.” My own particular favorite, “Follow the Line” is a dark, Ninth House treatise about suicidal-drunkenness that is incredibly melodious, even in this relatively light, accordion-accompanied version.

Other tracks include new originals as well as acoustic tributes to the Sisters of Mercy, stripped down versions of songs by Sinnis’s old band, The Apostates, pieces with names like “Skeletons” and “Scars,” plus a New Orleans-flavored Louie Armstrong cover and Billy Holiday’s “Gloomy Sunday.” The album ends appropriately with a country gospel death-march.

Sinnis’s style is a blending of folk-rock and traditional country, western, gospel and blues that is sure to please as well as fascinate music lovers of every stripe..

I recently had the privilege to make the acquaintance of a true Renaissance Man, retired professor of Physiatry (that’s Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation), John DiTunno, M.D.

Dr. DiTunno is an amateur sculptor who has, among his many artistic accomplishments, re-interpreted Andrew Wyeth’s famous painting, “Christina’s World”, bestowing upon it a higher-still level of immortality by actualizing the image in stone!

Here we see his sculpture,“Christina,” and below it, Wyeth’s masterpiece, “Christina’s World.”

As we know, Wyeth’s painting portrays a handicapped lady who was renowned in her small world for having borne and in significant measure surmounted a physical disability both courageously and with dignity.

Just as John DiTunno, a physician who spent his life helping the disabled to overcome their physical limitations was inspired by Wyeth, so too a colleague of his—another professor of Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation, Margaret Stineman, M.D.—was inspired to pen this beautiful poem in homage to John’s creation!

Tim Burton at the Museum of Modern Art
Nov 2009 – April 2010
New York
By Doktor John

Surrealist and multi-media artist Tim Burton is the subject of a major exhibition at New York Citys MoMA that must be seen by everyone interested in pop culture. Attendance is overwhelming and it requires reservations well in advance. One of the first things one notices is the enormous body of work that he has churned out over the years. Known mainly for motion pictures like Mars Attacks and Batman which feature his eccentric design style, Burton is revealed to be an amazingly prolific and gifted in ink and in paint, on paper and on canvas, since very early in his life. Just as his movies seem to want to bridge the gap between child-like innocence and true horror, so too his witty and light-hearted drawings are filled with fantasy creatures that have dislocated eyeballs and with predatory clowns menacing with pointy teeth. Some of these have been translated by sculptors into jaw-dropping constructions and assemblages.

The lightly-colored pen-and-ink drawings include recognizable personalities such as Joey Ramone, Vincent Price and Alice Cooper. Others are anonymous humans with distorted body parts, aggressive toys or nightmarish yet comical fantasy-creatures. They are typically composed of weirdly proportioned, wiggly shapes that might have been drawn by Aubrey Beardsley intoxicated with absinthe, or by Edward Gorey if he executed them with his left hand. Many are hilarious visual puns. One entitled Tongue-twister displays a creature maliciously twisting a mans tongue as if wringing out a wash rag.

More than 700 pieces are on exhibit and include concept drawings for the characters in his movies, recognizable iconic mannequins, costumes and statuettes from both his animated and his live-action films. Among them are Catwomans costume, a life-sized effigy of Edward Scissorhands, and numerous statuettes representing the various creatures in the stop-action movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas.

The monstrous, threatening Jack O Lantern from Nightmare hovers ten feet above the milling crowd of spectators and a crude ape-head with wooden-branch antlers from Planet of the Apes is mounted high on a wall evoking the feeling of strange otherworldliness.

This exhibition tells us much about post-modern culture, about ourselves and about the creative process. Tim Burton has spent a lifetime arduously and playfully exploring the borderland between the naive fun and the malignant fears of childhood which continue to haunt us well into adulthood.

This is the full page article as it appears in The Aquarian, unfortunately too small to read in its reduced form, here. The text is above the image in legible form.