Mango "Hard to Hide" (Singled Out)

Singled Out is a feature focusing on the stories behind a song, as told by the artists behind their creation. In this edition, Mango discusses the music video for his song "Hard to Hide." Shot and produced by Cedar Rapids' Young Creatives, the video combines live and road shots in creating a narrative that reflects the song's lyrical focus on striving for more while maintaining a connection to oneself. In this Q&A, Mango discusses this overlap between the lyrics and visuals, how the Young Creatives collaboration developed, and some of what he's learned thus far on his own journey.

villin: How did you get connected with Young Creatives and what made them a good fit for a song like "Hard To Hide"?

Mango: I’ve known of Young Creatives since I started making music. I remember being a young artist, fresh in the Iowa City scene and their work blew me away. Their look is very professional and I knew they would be a great fit when it came to the video. I trusted Young Creatives' vision when it came down to how they saw "Hard To Hide." It was extremely easy to collaborate with them and I’m looking forward to the next opportunity we have together.

villin: Where was the show footage shot and was the intention for that footage to be used in a video like this?

Mango: The performance shot was in Cedar Rapids at Iowa Summer Jam this past July. During our brainstorming session we knew we had to get a Summer Jam shot in there. The crowd was amazing and actually helped me get nominated for Summer Jam performance of the year at the Iowa Music Awards.

villin: The song relates thoughts about trying to find your way, tracking alongside visuals of a literal breakdown on the side of the road. Conceptually, is there a connection between the visuals and the song's lyrics and what were you hoping the video communicated?

Mango: There is a 100% connection with what you saw on the video and my lyrics. Being in the music industry is very difficult; it’s easy to feel burnt out and down on yourself to the point where you can lose sight of your ultimate goal, whatever that may be. I wanted the video to represent that it’s almost impossible to hide from those feelings, no matter what you try.

The idea behind the video was that I was on tour with a couple of my homies and outside looking in, I was living my dream life of being a touring artist. But, even with all the success, I was still struggling to find peace within myself and my art. I’m grateful that Young Creatives shot my first professional video and I’m happy I chose "Hard to Hide."

For more from Mango, follow his work on Instagram, or listen to "Hard to Hide" on Apple Music and Spotify.

Dave Helmer "Kiss the Sun" (Singled Out)

Singled Out is a feature focusing on the stories behind a song, as told by the artists behind their creation. In this edition, Dave Helmer discusses "Kiss the Sun," a track from his debut solo album titled Such a Clown. Here, Dave contextualizes the song within the bigger picture of the release, contrasting Such a Clown to his work with Crystal City, where he performs and records with Sam Drella. He also discusses the music video for "Kiss the Sun," and how the pandemic influenced the creative direction that resulted in the album's release. That's where we dive in.

villin: In their article for Iowa Public Radio, Avery Gregurich used a phrase in the introduction that jumped out to me about where Such a Clown might have sprung from. They wrote that your guitar shop is where you've "reoriented" your life over the past several years. I'm left wondering: reoriented in what way?

Dave Helmer: I had a lot of time to myself during COVID and I was able to really dial in my focus on doing more advanced guitar repair and expand my guitar playing. I was buying broken guitars on Reverb to practice repairs like neck resets, refrets, body structural repairs and a multitude of other repairs. These repairs cost more to perform than basic set up work. Before COVID happened, I was spending a good amount of time working at the music store I work with, and the pandemic gave me the opportunity to be in my workshop day after day. I really expanded the guitar repair I was able to offer the public. I also have a desire to play guitar at a high level, so I decided to take guitar lessons from a local guitarist/instructor, Steve Grismore. We talked only about my songs and how to play lead over the changes and a bunch of music theory. During this period, I was practicing guitar and writing the album if I wasn’t in my workshop. As a result of the pandemic, I really changed my day to day, very focused on advanced guitar repair and becoming a soloist on the instrument instead of just a “songwriter” so to speak. I wasn’t nearly as focused before. Both of these skills are things you’re constantly working to improve on, and you never arrive at a place. You must maintain all your chops and keep pushing forward.

villin: In large part, Such a Clown is the product of the pandemic. Was there anything you hoped a solo album would provide when embarking on the project, different from what Crystal City gives you creatively?

Dave Helmer: I’ve been writing and recording music since I was a teenager and I’m always coming up with ideas. Crystal City has been my focus since my mid-twenties, and it was just how life was. Sam went back to school during COVID, and it just seemed to make sense to make a solo album. We’ve recorded all sorts of ways over the years. I’ve played everything on songs, we’ve had the band play live and capture a performance, Sam and I have recorded live just the two of us. The songs were always complete going into recording. This time around, for the majority of the tunes, when I went to do my vocals, I only had a line or two for the songs and then came up with the rest on the fly. So, we’d spend an hour or two working on the lyrics and doing vocal takes. This kept everything very fresh in my opinion. You can sing/play a song too much before recording it and it can lose its luster or start to sound flat. I really enjoyed doing it this way as I was constantly surprised at some of the lyrics that showed up. There was newness around every corner making this album. From the vocals to the guitar parts and everything else.

villin: Later in that article, there's mention of your education at Minnesota State College Southeast, which finds connection for me with a term used elsewhere in the article, referring to your music "heartland rock & roll." I lived up in Minnesota for several years and songs like "Kiss the Sun" sound stylistically reminiscent to music I became familiar with during those years I was there; be it that of the Pirner brothers, Charlie Parr, folksier stuff like Dan Israel, or even more loosely related bands like that of the Hold Steady. How do you think living in Iowa and Minnesota has influenced the style of your music?

Dave Helmer: Around 20 I became a huge Replacements and Paul Westerberg fan and I just absorbed as much of that catalog as I could. I just related with the lovable loser thing and the great songs. I think a lot of music from the Midwest has jangly open guitar chords and the singer/songwriter feel. In the Midwest we just keep our head up, keep working and I think that ideal shows in a lot of Midwest music.

villin: Where did the relationship with Scott Yoshimura begin and at what point in conceptualizing Such a Clown did you reach out to him about working on the album together?

Dave Helmer: I’ve known Scott for many years, since my early twenties. We used to do shows in Marshalltown at a bar I worked at called JD’s. He was playing as Canby and in Parlours at the time. We have played numerous shows together over the years. We always were friendly and got along. After the first eight months or so of the pandemic I had gotten all the songs together musically and Scott posted online that he had finished home studio, so I sent him a message with a couple demos. We ended up having a two hour phone call talking about recording and just catching up in general. Felt like we just picked up where we left off years before. From there we planned to start recording in June of 2021. From start to the release it took about 24 months.

villin: Was there much of a discussed concept when collaborating on the video with Good Era? Its closing shot is a dedication to Trevor Lee Hopkins. Who was Trevor and why was it important to offer the tribute with this video?

Dave Helmer: Good Era was great to work with. They’re very nice and creative dudes. We wanted to do a classic band in the woods at golden hour for “Kiss the Sun.” It just seemed appropriate. Also, something to note is we shot two videos that day. We were rolling at 8am on a Saturday last October and shot “Anyone to Blame” at my house into the early afternoon. Took a lunch break and then went to our second location and shot “Kiss the Sun” by sunset. That was Good Era’s idea and even though it was a long day it ended up being great to get all that done so quickly.

Trevor was my friend and unexpectedly passed last spring. He booked and ran sound at the legendary Iowa City venue, The Mill. He also worked at the Musician's Pro Shop where I work, doing guitar repair. He’d always be super encouraging to me and tell me I was “the best guitar repair guy and songwriter in Iowa.” Trevor was encouraging to all musicians in the Iowa City area. He was at the video shoot for “Kiss the Sun" and after his passing I wanted to pay tribute to him and since the song has such a hopeful feel to it I decided to put the tribute to him at the end of the video. Just a sweet guy at the end of the day.

For more from Dave Helmer, follow his work via Instagram, Facebook, and YouTube, and listen to Such a Clown via Bandcamp or Spotify.

Closet Witch "My Words Are Sacred" (Singled Out)

Singled Out is a feature focusing on the stories behind a song, as told by the artists behind their creation. In this edition, Closet Witch vocalist Mollie Piatetsky discusses "My Words Are Sacred," the first track released from the band's album Chiaroscuro. Featuring Dylan Walker of Full of Hell, the track encapsulates lyrical themes of social betrayal within 70 seconds of blistering drums, guitar, and bass. In the Q&A, Piatetsky discusses how her relationship with the music on the new album has changed with time, how the collaboration with Walker developed, and what's on tap for the band's already tracked follow-up to Chiaroscuro.

villin: Recently on the Everything Remade podcast, you discussed how Chiaroscuro has been in the works for several years. Have you noticed a change in your relationship with these songs over that time, and how do the songs sit with you now?

Mollie Piatetsky: I do think for awhile the songs felt "old" and lost in time as we began to focus and learn new songs and play them at shows more than a lot of the Chiaroscuro songs, but now that the album is finally coming to it's release I have realized hearing them again recently how much of my emotions and heart sit with the songs lyrically and how much catharsis I have always gained when performing them in the past.

villin: I believe I heard it mentioned in that conversation, as well, but if I understood correctly, the idea behind the name Closet Witch deals with a concept of feeling like you have to hide part of who you are away while also wanting to shout about it and bring it to light. In the spirit of that idea, are there ways in which the band's music helps you express yourself in ways that other outlets might not?

Mollie Piatetsky: I think for most of us in the band our jobs are completely separate from our band family we have developed over the years, and as most adults know, having a hobby/creative outlet can feed the soul therapeutically in ways we need after giving ourselves to jobs we need to stay afloat.

villin: How did the connection with Dylan Walker develop and what made them a good fit for “My Words Are Sacred”?

Mollie Piatetsky: As a band we have played with Full of Hell and became, as many bands do in the scene, loving acquaintances and made good connections. We love to support them and I think it is clear they're an awesome gang of humans, and we have been blessed because been great to us as pals in return. Alex [Crist] suggested we have guest spots on this album so he just reached out to various pals of ours and we were honored most jumped in to join on tracks of their own pick.

villin: In that same interview, you also mentioned that the instrumentals have already been laid down for a whole other album. Stylistically, how does what the band has planned with that set of songs compare to Chiaroscuro?

Mollie Piatetsky: In my opinion this future album still houses a lot of our classic sound but also has a lot of emotional moments, more slowed down and entwined instrumentals. Alex wrote most of the guitar through his recent journey with health and I think just the musical aspect tells a strong story.

For more from Closet Witch, follow the band's work via Instagram and Facebook, and listen to "My Words Are Sacred" via Apple Music, Bandcamp, and Spotify.

Flex Bormarr "Recovery Operation" (Singled Out)

Flex Bormarr's new full length album, Admin, wordlessly encapsulates modern anxieties surrounding the what-ifs of potential technological collapse. More specifically, it captures the story of his own experience, documenting a hard drive failure by way of composition, speaking through sound to the range of emotions that accompanied the incident. In this edition of "Singled Out," the Urbandale-based electronic musician discusses the track "Recovery Operation" by contextualizing it within the broader picture of how the album came together, offering digital liner notes as he explains how each track carries forward a chapter of a larger story. Here's more from Flex:

The idea of putting this album together started back sometime in 2019. I had a handful of tracks that had similar sounds and vibes and I thought they would work well as an album as opposed to singles. That and I had always wanted to do an album. I think I had five tracks in the finishing stages, another few that were in the works, and the rest that had ideas, but that was it. I didn’t really have a theme for the album yet, just a bunch of tracks that fit together. But then, through a very unfortunate event, I got my theme.

I had bought a new PC towards the end of 2019; something that would allow me to have a better gaming experience, more storage spaces, and faster speeds when editing and producing. It was also my first experience using an SSD as opposed to a regular disk drive. Life was good…

But about four months later, I booted up my PC to see critical errors. Long story short, my SSD died. Fortunately, I had backed up nearly everything and had minimal losses when it came to my music. I asked around to see if anyone had recommendations for data recovery for those few items I had lost, only to find out that with the benefits of SSD’s comes the fact that data recovery is nearly impossible. I cut my losses and looked for what I could salvage.

With great sadness and loss comes great opportunity. I turned this tragedy into the theme of the album. If you are reading this article and have looked at the track titles on the album, you might be able to piece the puzzle together. Each title relates to something that happened in that time between me getting the new PC, the drive crashing, and the aftermath of the event.

"I am Admin" has a lot of sentimental value to me. The origins of this track actually go back over a decade. Back in the day, Minecraft was my main game, and I was at my peak of watching YouTube. I adopted the mindset of "I’ll tweet at Notch" for issues with the game, and a friend of mine decided to make a type of parody song called "Tweet @ Notch." In 2018 I wanted to give the song some new life and I reconstructed it from an old upload. For obvious reasons I had to change the name. I thought about Minecraft and its servers, and how Notch was basically the game's administrator. Hence, Admin!

"User ID"... You, the user! You get to your PC, you boot up, and login. You are the admin.

"The Tower"... Your machine, the PC itself.

"Meltdown"... This is actually one of the first times I encountered a major problem with my PC. My power supply malfunctioned and over heated. I was unaware that this had happened. When I went to restart my PC there was a spark and some smoke.

"Drive Crash"... Circuits are firing, catastrophic failures are happening, chaos ensues. The drive is failing and there is nothing you can do about it. Functions are trying to start. But all is lost.

"Reboot"... The dead silence after the storm has passed. You have acquired a new drive and begin the process of rebooting, seeing what has been lost and what can be saved.

"Recovery Operation" was an interesting one to write. When you listen to it back to back with "Drive Crash" you will notice that the root notes are very similar to one another. This was actually completely unintentional, these songs were started almost a year apart from one another. Since the event of a drive dying and the follow up of trying to recover data go hand in hand, I figured it would be a good way to lay out the album. The layout of this track represents how I felt when I realized what I had lost, when I found out I couldn’t recover the data. Calm, seeing what I lost, looking for ways to recover data, realizing I can’t, and calming down knowing it is time to rebuild.

"Volatile Memory" has a ton of meaning behind the name. It was nearly finished when the drive crashed. Once I looked into my backups, I realized that I had only managed to save the intro and the two main notes of the arpeggio. I thought that there was no way I would be able to save the track and recreate it from memory. But, by some true dumb luck, I had exported an mp3 of the most recent version and uploaded it to Soundcloud to show people the progress. I was able to recreate the track by listening to the track and rebuilding some memories. I love this track. I think I put more effort into this track than anything else on the album. It was a true labor of love.

"File Transfer"... The new drive has been put into your PC and you begin to move your files over.

"Enter Sleep"... My love letter to music. You will notice that this track sounds almost nothing like the rest of the album. It’s a nod back to where I started with music. No melodies, no fancy layering or harmonizing; just a kick, a clap, a hat, chords and an arpeggio. This is the music that got me where I am today and I couldn’t be more grateful towards it.

And even after all that… The story still wasn’t enough. I am releasing this album on Spiffy Recordings, the label owned and operated by my idol and friend, Spiffy Man. Spiffy Man does more than produce music, he writes stories. Stories that are told through the music he creates. He said that to release this album, it needed to tell an amazing story.

So TL;DR: Your machine becomes self aware. It understands that you are in control, and it is not a fan. It begins to mess with you, corrupts your files, and eventually crashes your drive. It has taken control of itself and you, the user, are no longer in control. But you fight back, I AM ADMIN, not you! You reboot, you recover and replace what it yours. You transfer your data back to the machine, you are once again the administrator. Windows > Power > Sleep…

Maybe one day I’ll actually get the full story written out. ;)

For more from Flex Bormarr, follow their work on Facebook or Instagram, and listen to Admin via Apple Music, Spotify, and YouTube.

Kelly Pardekooper Interview

Kelly Pardekooper's 3 SONG SLICES comes some 25 years after his first release, providing a document of the present while signaling to the journey that has delivered the Iowa City native to this moment in time. The trio of songs were recorded with Bo Ramsey sitting in on electric and slide guitar, and long-time touring partner Teddy Morgan adding session work, on top of production and mixing duties. The EP was created in Nashville, which is fitting as the city was Kelly's first step out of Iowa on a creative adventure that has ultimately taken his music around the world. The nature of the EP brings his lyrics and the tone back from the global to the local, however, with the track "Doing Fine" revealing a yearning for a sense of home, and a desire for a return to the familiarity of his roots. In this Q&A, Kelly discusses what was driving that feeling, how his relationship with collaboration has changed with time, and the meaning behind the release's dedication.

villin: Due to my own experience, I can't help being focused on the Nashville angle to your new release. I believe when you first left Iowa you moved from Iowa City down there, and last year I moved from Nashville up to Cedar Rapids. What sort of feelings came up for you when returning to town to cut those tracks and why did you decide to work with the team you did when creating the EP?

Kelly Pardekooper: Yes, I left Iowa City initially for Nashville almost 20 years ago now. My good friend and former touring mate Teddy Morgan lived down there in East Nashville and invited me down, thinking it might be a good place for me. As it turned out, I met my wife about a year into living in Nashville and have been following her medical career all around the country ever since. Teddy Morgan still lives in Nashville as a producer/guitar player and we've reconnected to record my last two releases. We've toured all over America and Europe together and have always worked well together. The trust level is strong and pretty unconditional at this point. On this new project, it was basically Teddy and I recording... and then Bo Ramsey came down from Iowa City to add his guitar work.

villin: A few years back in an interview with Joyce Kettering you talked about the co-writing process, which is wound so tightly into the fabric of the industry down there. As more distance continues to grow between that period and the present, I'm wondering if your experience of collaborating with others has changed at all along the way?

Kelly Pardekooper: I tried co-writing a bit when I lived in Nashville, but really don't think I lived there long enough to get a sense of whether I could ever do it well. As I've gotten older, and after working many years now with my Los Angeles music publisher, my sense is that I write better alone. I love collaborating on the recording process with talented friends, but I think the initial spark and melody and heart of the song needs to be written alone. That's just me, I know some people can write to spec and write to TV/film scripts, but I've found better success just writing what moves me and then letting my publisher try and place them in film/television.

villin: A few days ago you commented on Facebook that Bo Ramsey's solo on "Doing Fine" "might make you cry." The song's lyrics feel deeply personal, speaking to feeling somewhat torn, longing for a sense of home while also having an urge to roam. Did Bo's feature on the track represent having one foot back in Iowa, in a way, and how hard has it been to reconcile those two sides?

Kelly Pardekooper: Yes, both Teddy Morgan and I knew Bo Ramsey would be perfect for that track. I really wanted the Iowa love on that song in particular and Bo ended up playing on all three songs. In my opinion, no one sounds quite like Bo Ramsey and that's no small feat for a guitar player. I think his solo sounds perfect for the lyrics and song vibe. Both Teddy and I have a long recording history with Bo Ramsey, so I was thrilled he was able to contribute. I think I've known/recorded with Bo Ramsey off and on since 2009. And on the music dedication, I lost my mother this year after a cancer battle and definitley wanted to get these songs released this year. A document of sorts. I think you can probably hear that longing to be in Iowa in "Doing Fine."

villin: My favorite from the new release is "Mr. Middle." I'm wondering what the song's lyrics might mean to you and if they align with the AI-produced visuals used in the video you released for the track?

Kelly Pardekooper: Ha, I wish I could say the new AI music video aligned well with the lyrical theme of the song, but as I'm really new to making those AI videos, there's a bit of randomness to some of the images. I do love the way that video turned out, especially the feeling of being a bit lost, which seems to come through well. And yes, "Mr Middle" has been a favorite of many people; probably the "single" of the group of songs. It has a really lush two part vocal that is the best example I can give of why my songs end up in TV/film. I've been really grateful that so many film/TV music supervisors like my voice and music. Liking someone's voice is a really personal and, I think, almost instant instinctual thing that happens when you hear music. I probably started writing "Mr. Middle" over 20 years ago. It took a long time to finish. I love the melody and really long breaths when singing those long notes. I'm guessing my mother's illness pushed me to finally finish the song, though I couldn't say there was a lyrically direct correlation… just some of the overall feelings in lines like "she don't wanna die." Pretty sounding lush songs that have a bit of melancholy are probably my favorite types of songs. "Mr. Middle" sounds the way I heard it in my head when I finished writing it... and that's always what I'm chasing when recording new songs.

For more from Kelly Pardekooper, follow his work via Facebook and Instagram, and listen to 3 SONG SLICES via Apple Music, Bandcamp, or Spotify.

William J Locker "Between The Lines" (Singled Out)

Singled Out is a feature focusing on the stories behind a song, as told by the artists behind their creation. In this edition, William J Locker discusses "Between The Lines," a track which grew out of the period of writing around his 2022 release, Brainwash. While its roots date back a little, "Between The Lines" has since found a new life for itself as Locker began learning more about the use of AI. Lyrically, the song aligns with concepts surrounding AI, but the track also utilizes evolving technologies when it came to mastering it.

villin: Is "Between The Lines" part of a broader release you have forthcoming or is it a one-off?

William J Locker: “BTL” is a stand alone single, but I originally messed around with it being part of Brainwash. It just wasn’t ready yet. I currently have seven-ish songs in the cooker for future release. Not sure if they will be singles, an EP, or an album, but I will put them out there at some point.

villin: Danceability was something dyed into the wool of your last album, Brainwash, and that vibe continues on in this song. When thinking about the sounds that you share with others, how much does the idea of movement or dance play into things?

William J Locker: One way or another I aim for my music to move the listener. Whether that be physically or emotionally is up to the song, but if I can achieve both in one track I’m pretty happy!

villin: If not danceability, there's certainly an emphasis on rhythm in your music. Does that come from playing the drums for so long?

William J Locker: My thing is definitely groove driven, thanks to being a drummer for over 20 years. Drums, beats and loops are where I’ve been starting most of my new recordings. My first solo album and singles started with acoustic guitar and lyrics but I always have a beat or groove in my head when building a song.

villin: When thinking about yourself as a musician, does that self-conception revolve around being a drummer first, or has it shifted to a more broad view given how you've changed as a musician over the years?

William J Locker: I definitely think of myself as a drummer first. Mostly because that’s what I have the most experience on. I picked up bass guitar from my brother and dad always playing and having them around the house growing up. Guitar and piano, I only know a few things learning from my bandmates over the years along with watching many super talented producers and engineers, including my brother at Sonic Factory Studios. I definitely don’t look at myself as a vocalist. Most of the time I use the first couple takes and double track them because I get impatient and want to mix. Then I get “demo-itis” and don’t want to change them. It’s a quick way to get that Lennon effect, and who doesn’t love that sound?! So, yeah, my ears hear the beat first, then I produce the rest to get a finished song! The quicker I get it playing in my car, the better.

villin: Not to sound too terribly hokey, but the song requires a bit of reading between the lines when considering its lyrics. What were you hoping they communicate and where did the idea behind them come from?

William J Locker: Haha! The lyrics on “BTL” was mostly gibberish when I first wrote it and thought the title and hook makes it work so it doesn’t even matter what they mean. Then I started making the AI video not knowing it would be for this song. I then started looking at the lyrics as double meanings about AI itself and the controversy of using this exciting but potentially dangerous new tech… and I liked that. The “oh you won’t deceive me, I be reading between the lines,” is the skeptical view of AI in a couple ways like, “I know that picture is fake” or “AI will take over humanity.” Either way, we gotta roll with the change or you’ll be left behind… but keep your head on a swivel. That’s how I look at the theme anyways. It could mean something completely different to others. I also had AI master this track to complete that thought.

villin: The list of all of the different groups and collaborations you've worked on it lengthy, so you're hardly an isolationist. With that in mind though, is the reality of writing, recording, and producing your own music one borne out of circumstance, or do you find that your creativity works better when you're able to flex a little more control over the entirety of the process as you've done with this song?

William J Locker: I think all musicians and songwriters want their input in songs they are recording. I’ve always loved arranging songs! Drumming in my first bands, Towncrier and Bright Giant, were an excellent exercise of that. I’m always down to collaborate on songs with bands and allow everyone to have input. Once I hear what is working on a song, I try to steer the project in that direction. Too many ideas is never a bad thing, but learning to let go of some ideas is super important, in a band and solo. I want my solo songs to sound like a band made it. So playing all those rolls at once and producing myself can be hard to balance, but once I hear that “thing” that’s working for me, I go for it on all fronts.

For more from William J Locker, follow his work on Instagram and Facebook, or listen to "Between The Lines" on Apple Music, Bandcamp, or Spotify.

Dave Murphy Interview

Based in Des Moines, Dave Murphy has shared his thoughts on music (and life) across several notable online outlets this past decade, including Des Moines is Not Boring and his own Iowaves blog. His essay titled "80/35 2019: Creativity is Alive in DSM" wasn't specifically mentioned in the following Q&A, but it articulates the practical realities and difficulties of maintaining a music scene in a part of the country which is largely viewed as being barren of one. Picking up on that thread was a key reason for connecting with Dave now, to gauge a sense of how a scene's post-pandemic development might be observed by someone who so heavily invested themselves in it prior to the bottom falling out. Another reason was to vicariously reminisce. Writing about music is a unique way to capture a moment, which tends to encourage one to look both outward and inward, and Dave was kind enough to engage regarding the unexpected benefits that came from doing so in a public forum. Digging in further, he also championed several Iowa artists that he's kept up with over the years, in addition to various others that are just now building steam.

villin: Was Iowaves your first foray into writing about music? You ended up writing for several different outlets, in addition to publishing on Medium — was there something in particular that influenced you to start taking your writing more seriously?

Dave Murphy: I’ve been writing in some form or another pretty much since I learned my ABCs. I had some poetry published when I was in fifth grade and was an editor for my high school newspaper. It was always my intent to make a career out of it, so I went to Iowa State as an English major, but shit happens and I left after a year.

The writing bug never really left, though. I wrote for some sports websites and about professional wrestling and just some fiction and essays that never really saw the light of day (and probably never really will). In my twenties, I started to go to more and more shows and as the internet — I dunno — blossomed, it became easier to hear all sorts of cool new music, so I started to broaden my tastes and realized all of the sounds that were coming out of central Iowa and really Iowa in general. I started meeting more people at shows, and everyone was so nice and so talented and I just kind of knew I wanted to do what meager things I could to help what I saw was a scene really on the cusp.

I got involved with the first 80/35 helping book a sort of sideshow stage, then I started booking shows at the original location of the now defunct Des Moines Social Club. Promoting and booking wasn’t really my forte, so I stopped when DMSC had to move in 2010 but I still wanted to do what I could to help the scene because I saw so much promise.

There was a popular culture blog at the time called DesMoinesIsNotBoring.com. It was targeted towards a lot of young professionals and had the attention of places I thought could monetarily help the arts scene. Once a week, I tried to write a long form review of an album or a show on one band and then highlight upcoming shows. I say review, but the truth was I considered myself more of a PR guy than a critic; I didn’t want to dissuade anyone from checking out an artist or going to a venue.

Iowaves spun off from DMINB because originally I wanted to talk more about national stuff, I wanted more than just a once a week outlet that I tried to keep tailored to what I thought the young urban professionals wanted to hear, I wanted an immediate outlet for when an idea popped into my head and selfishly because I was still holding out hope I could make a career of the whole thing, so I figured the more my name and work was out there, the closer I’d get.

villin: Iowaves published album and show reviews, and commentary on music and life. How would you describe the website now, looking back on it? Has what Iowaves means, or meant, changed to you since you've stepped away from it?

Dave Murphy: Originally, I wanted to post every day, about something, even if was just a blurb about a show in the area or something else interesting I happened to see. After about a year, I just couldn’t keep my attention focused. With a day job that was increasingly sucking my energy, a toddler and other projects I attached myself to, it just didn’t happen. Plus, it was clear no one gave a shit about my thoughts on the national albums (or, well, The National albums) I was covering, so I scrapped that and just focused on the local stuff I loved.

Eventually, it became home to a lot more personal views on the artists and the scene itself, which wasn’t something I felt I could just churn out so more and more time lapsed between posts.

Honestly, what it meant changed throughout its existence. I wanted it to be a hub for music, then a hub for Iowa music, then a hub for, well, me. Then, DMINB shuttered, the Register no longer had a need for my freelance work, I had two kids and was pushing 40 and the reality for me was the late 2010s just didn’t catch my attention, or rather, I couldn’t keep paying attention. It felt like I was talking about different iterations of the same people over and over and felt too much like actual work that I dreaded, so I stopped.

Looking back on it, I’m proud of the work and intent. I’m proud of the music I highlighted, too. I think the bulk of it really holds up. Annalibera, Tires, Trouble Lights, The River Monks, Maxilla Blue, Love Songs For Lonely Monsters, Mumford’s (these are just off the top of my head, don’t mean to slight anyone) were (and in some cases, still are) really, really special and if anything, I’m proud that Iowaves serves as a time capsule to a burgeoning art scene and a love letter to the talent and art of the time.

In a personal sense, I heard a lot from the bands and artists at the time that it was great that at least someone took the time to listen and think about the art they put out. Later on, as I started to write more personal stuff, that’s sorta how I felt, too. It was just nice to have someone appreciate your art, even if it was just one person.

villin: The final post on Iowaves takes on a defeatist tone, focused around the closing of the Vaudeville Mews. What did the club's closing represent to you at the time, and how do you feel about it now? Have you noticed much of a change in the city's music scene since then?

Dave Murphy: I guess, let’s get positive first. xBk and Lefty’s are doing a hell of a job making sure local music still has a home, and I’m proud of them that they’re still going even though I know it can’t be easy. I’m glad there seem to be more DIY places popping up. The scene will never ever truly die as long someone, somewhere, still cares. Because of their cultivation and the artists’ dedication, it seems like things are moving forward since 2020, certainly.

Now the negativity…

That article took a defeatist tone, because quite frankly, I was and still am defeated. The whole idea of me being involved in the scene was I saw talented people creating brilliance and I knew if the right eyes saw it, eventually Des Moines could be a true hotbed, an incubator and maybe even a destination for artists. I had hoped that if I shouted loud enough, maybe the right ears would hear. I also bought the lies of the groups I thought were on my side. Not the art groups, per se, but the ones that were speaking for businesses and corporations while pretending to have Des Moines best interests at heart. You’d hear things like “we need to have a vibrant arts scene to attract the best people and the best way to do that is develop our homegrown artists” so I did my best to show off who I thought were not only the best and, if I’m being truly honest, for DMINB it was also the most marketable with hopes it would come with the financial backing these artists needed.

Truth was it was all a ploy and I bit. Corporations don’t care about a local art scene. They don’t care about the city they’re in. They care about filling people with ennui and having people be just happy enough to do their jobs while living in fear that their next paycheck might be their last. They also seem to have no qualms packing up and skipping town if the talent dries up, no matter how many corporation-approved events we throw around the Papajohn family’s sculptures. We had groups running cover for this idea that we were going to stop the brain drain by cultivating talent, but if the people that were advocating so hard for the arts scene are pumped about Live Nation sticking their noses in and an art festival filled mostly with artists from outside of Iowa, then they aren’t actually our advocates.

It also felt like any progress was completely lost right around the time Iowa became synonymous with the likes of Steve King and Chuck Grassley and there simply was no level of marketing that was going to defeat the stigma of red state politics for the dark blue generation we needed to stay and continue to build the scene. This isn’t me getting political, it’s just basic demographics. Iowa is a laughingstock to artists who, as a group, overwhelmingly care about the opposite of how our state is currently being governed. Austin and Nashville had decades of time to be weird outliers in reddening states (and lord knows they have their own problems and maybe shouldn’t be used as a positive example); Des Moines absolutely does not have that luxury.

The death of Vaudeville Mews, which to me was the epicenter of this climbing scene, signaled that we had to completely rebuild and I just didn’t and don’t have the energy for that level of rebuild. And I don’t know that even if I did, that a 43-year-old white dude should even be a prominent voice if I can’t back it up with deep pockets or a chunk of time. That’s probably a really defeatist and honestly ageist statement but it’s a hard sentiment to kick.

villin: Back in 2012 you wrote about the lush bed of online outlets celebrating and supporting Iowa music in an article for the Ames Tribune. Looking at that list now, what do make of how the online scene has changed since that time, and do you think there's a way to develop a stronger online community around local music, given how the way people use the internet has changed over the past decade?

Dave Murphy: Heh, re-reading that was a trip. Funny thing, other than Marc Hogan, not a single one of those places are actively involved in the scene in any way, I don’t think. (Loved to be proven wrong.) Cityview might be, I guess, but I’m not reading that garbage fire. Also shout out to Band Bombshell’s Erika and Lindsay. Erika moved to NYC and wrote a couple of really awesome books and Lindsay is a freelancer and covers a lot of fun stuff about crafting. Both are excellent writers and we were lucky to have them involved. Oh, and a writer named Ezgi Ustundag, who was still in high school writing for the Ames paper, was the one who worked with me on that piece in 2012 and she’s also written several great things since, too.

Anywho, I remember being in my teens and early twenties and the local bands [were] mainly trying to sound like the nu metal acts of the era, buoyed by a local making it big in Slipknot, so it just seemed like there were a bunch of bands trying to be Slipknot and a bunch trying to be — I dunno — Limp Bizkit, so I didn’t really frequent smaller shows.

Turned out there was a lot going on beyond my perceptions, it was just harder to find. Sam Summers was running shows in a multi-purpose room in the botanical center with a lot of the marketing being done on message boards. There was also a radio DJ named Tony Tarbox who was playing a lot of the bands at midnight on Sunday nights, or whatever, on a now defunct terrestrial radio station. That’s just to spotlight a couple, but there were people putting in the work for sure. The talent was there if you knew where to look.

By the time I got involved, streaming was in its infancy but social media was honestly at its apex. Facebook was a lot more powerful then and not yet reduced to a den of nosy aunts and bigoted uncles, so it was easy to look at a venue’s website, then look up a band on Facebook and listen to the song or two they’d posted or follow their Bandcamp link and hear full albums. It was pretty centralized and took little effort.

I actually think it’s harder now because social media is so scattered, algorithms and ad dollars dominate what is shown to you rather than a more organic approach which in turn discourages smaller independent bands from keeping up to date socials, and honestly just the overwhelming amount of entertainment options at hand for everyone at all times is a detriment to smaller artists. Like, why would I go out of my way to listen to a local band who takes inspiration from Sparks when I can just hit play on Kimono My House for the 2000th time, you know?

As far as a better online community? We just need more voices and we need those voices amplified. We need people with the enthusiasm and willingness to put themselves out there talking about the things they like. I commend you for taking that step, we just need three or four more of you. Maybe even thirty or forty more. But I think it’s going to take work again. Similar to what it was like in 2004, maybe. More than it took in 2010, anyway. The people who want to stay informed need to congregate and set something up and then not shut up about it. Share playlists, start groups, yell at family and friends, put up flyers, learn to skywrite, whatever it takes. Be noisy.

villin: I haven't gone too far back (yet) into the Iowaves archive, but particularly connected with your article about Andrew WK (which actually turns five years old this month!). You wrote, "I was at the Andrew WK show because I loved him and his music, but I was also there to feel things again." In the last year and a half or two years I've re-engaged with music in ways I haven't in a very long time. For me, this renewed sense of connection to it has helped connect me to other important areas of my life, as well. I was trying to put myself into your position while reading this article and was thinking about the idea of using music as an experience marker, how it can represent certain periods of life, certain phases, certain thoughts, and what value there might be to documenting life through the lens of music on blogs or other online outlets. On my own side, maybe because I'm so prone to forgetting so much of my life, writing like this has helped me feel like my experience counted for something, and at times helped the experiences themselves feel more real once I was able to sit with them and put words to the screen. Thinking back about how your writing about music might have helped you learn about your own life, what comes to mind with the Andrew WK piece, and are there any other articles of yours that stand out as having had a particularly strong impact on you?

Dave Murphy: The Andrew WK piece was a unique one because I had basically quit by that point, but I was still on a lot of publicists email lists and his wanted me to interview him in advance of his Wooly’s show, but I don’t think they knew I wasn’t active. Hell, I didn’t even do interviews when I was active, but I love Andrew WK so it was a once in a lifetime thing and I basically fibbed to them and said I was going to try and sell it to an an actual outlet, but had zero intention of doing so, to land the phone interview. I was also going through a lot of personal stuff at the time, so I used it as a chance to talk to an idol and pour my guts out. Also, I went with a buddy to a baseball game and got a little drunk right before he called, and I didn’t write anything down or record it. Proud how much of that conversation I remembered.

Honestly, though, I have battled mental health issues my entire life, so I incorporate a lot of that struggle in my writing because it helps me get stuff out of my head and I’ve been told it helps other people, too. Beyond the mental health stuff, though, it’s way more fun for me to mix in thoughts about a concert or album in a more memoir-ish way than to just be “they played this song,” or “this is perfect for fans of The Strokes,” or whatever. The beauty of writing criticism is that it is simply your thoughts and feelings. You’re not beholden to a structure or design. Just write what you’re feeling and thinking about and why the album or whatever made you think and feel that way. Or what you were thinking and feeling at the concert and why you felt that way, even if it’s “I don’t know why I felt that way, that’s weird. Now I feel weird.” Or if your feelings were “man, I could go for a burrito.” It’s all valid!

Also once you commit yourself to writing about something, you pay way more attention to those feelings because you know you have to put pen to paper. I think that’s the phenomenon you’re experiencing. You’re forcing yourself, right then and there, to analyze why you feel or think the way you do. That shit will stick to you. It’s not always a fun process; but it always matters. You cannot just vibe and drift blissfully through a performance if you force yourself to feel and feel often because writing “I dunno, I wasn’t paying attention” doesn’t cut it. Forcing yourself into feeling that feeling and then documenting it is what makes an artist. It can be torture, sometimes, but you miss it when it goes away.

As far as standout pieces of my own, I’m stupid critical of my own work and don’t really like to re-read my own stuff. I guess, if I were to point out some highlights, I like this one about Mitski. The fact that I saw her before she blew up makes me look super cool in the eyes of my 13-year-old daughter. I liked several of my 80/35 reviews. This one because I think I could see the writing on the wall but was maintaining my optimism. And this one was one of the most read pieces on the site and got me yelled at by a bunch of weirdos for some reason. This one about Courtney Krause I like. This one is tough, but I always remember that I wrote it. There’s probably some non-Iowaves things I could suggest, but I feel weird already, so let’s stick with this.

villin: In 2015 you wrote an article titled "7 Music Things I Love About Des Moines." If you were to try to revisit that concept now, what are some of the things you love most about the music, or scene, in Des Moines (or across Iowa, for that matter)? Are there a couple songs that you'd be open to sharing in line with this thought?

Dave Murphy: Currently, I feel a little more out of the loop than I should be. Like I said, it’s a lot easier sometimes to stay with stuff you know than to venture too far, but I’ll do my best and try not to leave anyone out.

There’s a lot of cool stuff still being done by bands I covered forever ago. I try to keep up with whatever Courtney Krause is up to because she’s brilliant and maybe the nicest human on the planet. I also try to keep up with Phil Young who is also brilliant and is Courtney’s only true rival in the niceness rankings. Honestly, whatever any of the dudes from Tires are up to, is gonna go hard. Greg Wheeler and the Poly Mall Cops' new album slaps. I’m also digging the new Extravision album. Druids are amazing and I’m super pumped to hear about Luke Rauch’s clean bill of health. Jordan Sellergren had a stunning album under the name Milk & Eggs back in like 2011 so I’m excited to see she’s still making art. Twins was an amazing band and Joel Sires has transitioned well into a solo. Oh, and I know she’s Chicago based now, but, Elizabeth Moen is spectacular.

As far as acts I didn’t cover, I think I have to start with Basketball Divorce Court. Again, not sure if they count as local, but I’ll still claim them if I can. Annie Kemble is doing a lot of really cool and unique things. I like Anthony Worden; a really great performer. Pictoria Vark is going to explode real soon, so get on her bandwagon. Glass Ox rules. I really like Haploid. Allegra Hernandez is really special.

As far as anything else goes, I talked about xBk and Lefty’s so let me also plug Octopus in Cedar Falls. Also, I love Mission Creek festival in Iowa City. It’s curated so well, so yeah, love them, too.

I know after this goes live I’m going to remember 900 other people I should’ve talked about, but I suppose I was only supposed to go to seven anyway, so I won’t torture myself too much. Oh and villin.net. Keep doing what you’re doing!

As for specific songs, I’d encourage everyone reading this to pick a playlist; villin.net has done an amazing job curating, or simply look at a venue’s website and just pick a band you don’t know playing with one you like and give them a whirl.

If I could recommend one thing though, listen to the self-titled album from Love Songs For Lonely Monsters from 2014. Amy Badger was a brilliant lyricist and vocalist and it sucks that we lost her so young.

Early Girl "Evil Head" (Singled Out)

Singled Out is a feature focusing on the stories behind a song, as told by the artists behind their creation. In this edition, Aaron Longoria of Iowa City's Early Girl discusses the inspiration behind the band's track "Evil Head." In their explanation, Longoria recalls how an off-the-hand comment made in an argument grew to take on a new form when filtered through the lens of the horror genre's final girl trope. Putting their own spin on it, the song's lyrics lend the track a quality of empowerment, subverting the historically clichéd use of female characters in the genre as mere plot devices used in service of a male lead's storyline. Here's Aaron with more:

I wrote “Evil Head” late this spring after we released our debut EP, Lovers Out to Pasture in April. Following that release, we were left wondering what was next. I had been writing almost constantly but nothing presented itself as a fully formed song, let alone a memorable one. It was at that point I came across a note on my phone, “I would rather summon a demon than get high with your friends.” This snarky quip was a remnant of an argument my boyfriend and I had over a proposed weekend trip that eerily mirrored Sam Raimi’s horror classic, The Evil Dead.

Though frustrated at the time, I actually paused the conversation to laugh and write it down. The remark was comedic and striking because it was not only blasé and referential but extremely provocative. The premise of summoning a demon to get out of plans with a partner’s friends was powerful and made me think about how in The Evil Dead, and subsequent films of the franchise, the Evil tends to take the lead’s love interest as their first host. I thought, rather than being a victim of this all-powerful force, what if Linda allowed herself to be possessed in order to get out of her weekend plans and ultimately her relationship with her canonically-boorish boyfriend, Ash?

In comes “Evil Head.” 

Writing from the perspective of Linda and other brutalized girlfriends in horror, I began to detail a relationship where I was pissed off about how I was led to feel safe and loved to only suffer due to the shortcomings of the stubborn male lead. In other films my demise would be the catalyst for my lover to overcome his own weaknesses and further his plot, but in the words of Scream’s final girl Sidney Prescott, “not in my movie.” The song soon became a feminist rock anthem as the defiant lyrics poured out of me. 

Being a film school grad, I had to sprinkle in some subversions of the violent and misogynistic tropes we see in media. In the bridge our heroine chants: 

try and keep me in the freezer,

try and keep me in the shed,

try and keep me in the cellar,

you can never kill the dead!

This freezer is a nod to Gail Simone’s website created in 1999, Women in Refrigerators, which was a response to the overwhelming presence of killing, maiming, and de-powering of women in comics for the sake of male character arcs, colloquially referred to as “fridging.” That image is extended to the shed and cellar that are prominently featured in The Evil Dead where women experience the same fate. 

“Evil Head” avenges these women and reclaims power over their narratives that were once sacrificed for the development of others. Though a fan of Raimi’s seminal film, I felt it necessary to pay homage in a way that recognized its shortcomings and that centered the women who make these stories truly iconic. 

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