Column: Gordon Raphael #23 - March 2005
By: Gordon Raphael
I snuck around the back of the house. I have to write about this! Past the swimming-pool, the old stone statue of Poseidon riding on gothic dolphins. The sun has only just now chased away the stars - millions of them: out of the sky, and what were grey, changing shapes now reveal themselves as a gorgeous mountain. Outrageous flowers laughing about a thousand shades of colour that only they know about, stare at me as I write this stuff. I should be asleep, and a lot of myself tells me that I am - but I had the same feeling when I arrived here in the black of night - starry fields above - last night, probably a mere few hours ago, but sleep could not compete with the replenishment dancing in the air here at this Mexican villa in the small town called Tapoztlan, world-renowned for its 'good vibes and UFO sightings'.
Tapoztlan is where Paco, my charming host and his lovely ladyfriend Marianna have taken me to collect my aura and prepare for some epic recording sessions in Mexico city with Fobia, a huge band of rockers that has been ruling this country for about eleven years - since they were kids, in fact.
One lifetime ago (20 hours?), I left my new apartment in Kreuzberg, Berlin and took a cab, two planes and one day to change channels, big-time. I moved to Berlin in February 2005 after simultaneously being asked by Julian to leave The Strokes #3 in the capable hands of producer David Khane, and being sent a QuickTime video of a spacious, empty seven-room apartment in the same apartment as my best friends in Berlin: Moses Schneider and Susie Van Der Meer.
Moses is a producer's producer - more like an Einstein and a Beethoven rolled into one, and Susie is a singer - star from a distant galaxy. Both of them are very special, and I was overjoyed to be invited to live in their circle of creativity and music there in the Kreuzberg neighborhood.
I split from the Donald Trump apartment building in Manhattan that The Strokes had procured for me, and bee-lined straight to Mexico (my first time ever here) 'round January 13th 2005 to begin initial recordings with FOBIA. We worked in a studio whose walls were made of black volcanic lava, a porous stone found everywhere in Mexico City, and one that makes a hell of a din when rock drums and guitars are played at super-hi volume levels. The sounds bouncing off of those volcanic walls made a roar, a naturally f**ked-up noise like the inner flames of Earth herself. (I didn't even need to use compressors or distressors, cuz the walls took care of that, naturally).
I had never heard or met Fobia before, but had met their singer Leonardo DeLozanne (a legend in the hearts of the women of Mexico) once in NYC. I had him over for dinner in London last year and he then began the idea that we could work together. Even though I had never heard them, I thought it was a wise idea to experience Mexico and some 70 degree Fahrenheit weather in January, complete with sunshine galore and tons of flowers - just as the arctic hell winds and face-numbing snows were about to assault New York.
As my luck would have it (yes, these past few years have made me reassess my luck; she's doing very well in these, my 'golden years'!), Fobia truly rocked. Their video was the first thing I saw when I flipped on my hotel TV - always a good sign, 'Serendipity' for breakfast, anyone?
I produced three songs with them and they were cool-as-shiza. The drummer Jay and the guitarist Paco are easily some of the best musicians I have ever met or seen. True shining stars with mega-original ideas and the authority to pull them off. The songs had a Mexican Lou Reed/Iggy Pop vibe to them, and I even got to add some outer-space keyboards by playing my ARP Odyssey (now getting regular requests for those sounds... after all these years).
Jesus Christ, the sun just really poked up over the sparkling trees and now it's so sunny and bright that my pen is casting freaky shadows on this page; I can barely write, and since a suntan would clash horribly with my 'Seattle-goth-thing' I had better move into the cool shade and continue this story... OK, I'll just grab this beach chair and pull it over to the corner, near the pool and by this trippy statue of two naked mermaids holding each other whilst staring crazily into space, presumably at Jupiter. My gosh, they have enormous stone breasts and very well-defined nipples.
Anyways, I had to rush off to London after Mexico City, stopping only briefly in Miami Beach - a totally un-goth town I never thought I'd visit, but I met this super-sexy Argentinean girl named Amira in NYC, and she invited me down. I couldn't resist, so I saw her there in Miami Beach, and collected a ton of weird stickers and patches (Twinkie the Kid, Count Chocula, Charlie Brown, decadent vampire women riding in hot rods and licking popsicles... stuff like that to decorate my guitar cases and keyboards). I also got some more Indian shirts and necklaces to add to my collection, and tacky stuff with which to decorate my Berlin apartment.
In London, I hooked up with the amazing vocalist Skin and her band (see my previous rockfeedback article about her, please!) and we made a cool song for a French movie called 'Empire of the Wolves'. We had another fantastic time on that one, and even had an hour off to go shopping at Brick Lane's Sunday afternoon Flea Market, where I scored heavily with a slightly used-looking, life-sized tapestry of Pamela Anderson Lee and 'Baywatch' scenes, as well as a gaudy Versace shirt with Roman Godheads all over it... Both of these shall scare my friends, and impress my newfound enemies.
As soon as I landed in the Kreuzberg neighborhood of Berlin, I went to work with Moses on a band called Spitting Off Tall Buildings. They are a killer, aggressive melodic punk-rock group, doing a style of music that many try, and most fail at miserably. The young and quite beautiful singer - Jana Pollaske and her guitarist Paule that is at once very rough, yet highly appealing; catchy as hell, really.
My job in the team is to do 'vocal security', making sure the lyrics and vocal clarity is absolutely right on. Many Berlin bands sing in German, but some like to do it in English, even though it's their second language, and that's where my mostly American, but partly British ears come in. Plus, I have heard some lyrics and written quite a few myself.
The band we worked on last year called The Beatsteaks in Germany went on to massive popularity and were even voted MTV's band of the year there... Let's hear it for 'vocal security' and Moses Schneider's jawdropping production values... Herr Schneider was heavily trained at Hansa-By-The Wall, the legendary studio that Bowie and Iggy worked in when they changed the world's consciousness a million times over.
Spitting Off Tall buildings has now made an album that sounds simply perfect, and should have no trouble taking over the world this year and next. I know the USA would love to hear a band and record this good. Incidentally, there is a powerful team forming in Berlin now - Moses, Benson and Torsten: the original German Transporterraum gang, supplemented by me in some 'mostly for the vibe' way, and now here comes Michael Illbert, a world class top mixing engineer and producer, fresh from Sweden and Denmark where he launched The Hives and Hellacopters among many, many others. Michael has mixed the Spitting album, and seems happy to work closely with the reckoning force that is Moses Schneider. Mr Illbert, meanwhile, has gotten himself a stunning new studio, as of last week, atop a fabulous building in Berlin overlooking the river, Alexanderplatz Tower, downtown Berlin and the former Wall, that is now heavily decorated in day-glo psychedelic graffiti. Many bands/projects will be following us there and the sound quality and party atmosphere will always be extraordinarily high. I feel lucky to be involved with this sprouting scene, for sure.
After the Spitting Off Tall Buildings album, I spent a few weeks working on the decor and ambiance of my gigantic massive apartment (by New York and London standards, certainly). It has seven rooms with 12-foot ceilings, overlooking a cool street lined with trees, and there are many excellent places to eat and drink and ingest espresso things right downstairs. It's next to a really endless park, and I get to ride my new red bicycle everywhere very easily.
I went berserk two times while fixing my place up: once on German eBay where I discovered three complete sets of old 1960's and 70's stereo gear for my vinyl room, the music studio room, and the room with the typewriter in it. These things are in flawless condition all shiny silver, with glowing hot valves (tubes) inside and a sound for listening to music that modern equipment has just plain lost sight of. The speakers themselves are obscenely big Pioneers and JBL studio monitors, and I am happy and surprised I haven't gotten evicted yet.
The second round of sheer insanity happened when a man named Stephan opened an antique furniture shop on my bike route to the Transporterraum studio. I went in, mesmerized by a single white plastic desk, like 'Clockwork Orange' stylee, and left with, you guessed it, half the shop. I scored a 1960's Braun coffee grinder, mirrors, designer lamps from Italy and Copenhagen, another space age stereo system (that makes four) that looks like the ones on 2001, a Seventies dream of the future. Stephan liked meeting me and was delighted in telling in-depth stories about each piece, and clock and table; a history of the designers and the endangered wood (Pallasander) that made the table look so cool. OK, so now my apartment is finished, the disco-ball and black-light were the last touches in the 'Vinyl Room'. As soon as it was completed, I left town.
I went to Ireland to commune with Folk-Rock poet, legend Roy Harper. Check your Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd history for references to this unique and prolific musician. He lives in a serious old mansion overlooking the endless green hills and big foreboding skies of Cork County. Roy and Tracy have only trees and some big cows as their closest neighbors, and he spends his time distributing his records (thirty-four different albums so far, and new ones on the way), his new book, which is a pictorial and lyrical masterpiece, and preparing to make live shows in Ireland and the UK. He started on the scene in 1965 with the likes of Paul Simon and Al Stewart performing in London. At one point, his live band consisted of Keith Moon on drums, John Bonham and Jimmy Page on guitar and himself. This was at the height of the 'backing band's individual fame and popularity. Geeez.
Roy and I did a very fun four-day interview of each other for publication in 'Mojo' magazine, as a way to know each other better - revealing hidden truths to the world and ourselves. The man has many outstanding stories to tell, the kind that made even me shut up and listen cuz they were so fascinating. My favorite album of his is called 'Flashes From The Archives Of Oblivion', and features a song I first heard Liz Frazier from the Cocteau Twins sing on the first This Mortal Coil album. The song is called 'Another Day', and it led me straight to Roy Harper, whose own version is one of the deepest, most beautiful things I have ever heard.
One last thing, as I now sit in the Estudio 19 in Mexico City producing today bass-guitar tracks with Fobia. My friends from London, Demeter played their electro-rock at a massive party in Berlin, at a studio complex built by a Bauhaus architect for the German Communist Government (GDR) to record its radio plays and music in the old days. Two famous studios, Saal Fier, and Planet Roc operate there now. Hundreds of people were at this party, and thirty bands performed on eight stages. Even the wooden floors are a triumph of art and design there, let alone the myriad hallways or huge orchestra recording room complete with wooden pipe organ. Everywhere you look there is a classic view, almost like a very fancy hallucination (that's a good thing). It's like a city of sound - outside the snow was falling in the forest by a river, and the white flakes were turning pink and baby-blue under the spell of carefully placed spotlights. Like being inside of Jean Cocteau's greatest movie, it was. Albert Hammond's girlfriend Katherine has a band called The Pierces with her sister, and they played a great set there too. Demeter rocked that night.
I also have to say I fell in love with two Berlin based bands that night at the big psychic party, to the point of distraction. The first was called Husky Stash, featuring Nicole singing and screaming perfectly, as Holger, her guitarist demonstrated amazing punk-rock guitar stylee using only a Gibson Firebird and a Fender twin amp to hurt us with. I wish to work with this band, and have already gone to the 8mm club in Prenzlauerberg with them to ask if I could. Husky Stash has the modern equivalent to what the Banshees were exploring in the late 70's before the advent of MIDI keyboards.
I end this report with the second band I discovered the night of the big Planet Roc party. They are called Super 700, and I suggest you say this name over and over to yourself unless you want to be late for one of the most stunning and futuristic bands I have heard in years. Their un-earthly yet natural singer is called Ebadet, who - along with her twin sisters - fronts this totally new-sounding group. The three sisters blend their voices in a magical, almost unbelievable way, while the keyboards, drums, bass and guitar perform high-level tricks and create a rolling power similar to if the early Talking Heads were actually born and raised in an African tribe. It's body rocking atmospheric music to hypnotize the ears, and the skill level of the musicianship, songwriting and singing is probably just a bit unfair to those of us mere mortals. I can't say enough good things about Super 700 (go on, say it three more times) and I pray that I can record with them when I get back home to Berlin.
Ciao, see you in London, March 31st - April 20th... yes?
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