Download: Nino Moschella “What U Do 2 Me”

(off Boom Shadow out now on Ubiquity Records)

Nino Moschella started out four-tracking funk-soul that sounded like Sly and Shuggie and Stevie in a mountain shack at midnight and exploded into fidelity once he visited the wider world. His newest Boomshadow is out now on Ubiquity. This interview by Daiana Feuer.

If you were to make a soundtrack for a ’70s crime movie like Superfly or Jackie Brown, who do you want cast in it?
I would make a crime movie that has the Muppets in it. That would be cool. Maybe not Kermit and Miss Piggy but I want to make a gangster crime movie with all Jim Henson-type muppets. That would be silly.
You sort of have an accent from the East Coast.
My dad is from the Bronx. I’m born and raised in California. A lot of people say my accent sounds East Coast. It’s my dad for sure. And my mom’s from Minnesota. My dad’s overbearing. Not really, but he’s very influential, and I guess it comes out. I’m from Cali though. I love it here. I don’t think I’ll ever move. Are you from California?
Florida!
Oh, my grandfolks moved there when they got old. It’s hot and humid. I mean, it’s hot in Fresno—gets 110. But it’s dry heat. When we go to Florida in the middle of the summer, it’s humid and terrible. Man, and big old cockroaches. They’re humongous. Tropical bugs. I couldn’t stand the humidity. You’re always wet.
What kind of bugs are common in Oakland?
No cockroaches. We have mice and flies. I haven’t seen a cockroach. We had mice for a minute but they’re gone now—luckily. I put out some traps. We were expecting our two mice to multiply but they are gone.
It only takes mice two or three weeks to spring babies. In fact, rodents are the most successful mammal on the planet. I guess they didn’t like our house.
Who is the baby chanting on your song ‘I Love Myself?’
That’s my daughter, Stella. Me and my wife and her were in my home studio where I finished the album. Stella was playing the drums. She likes to have a microphone and hear her voice through the speakers. We were asking her questions: ‘What’s your dog’s name? Who are your friends? What do you love?’ That was how the vocals came about. She was like, ‘I love myself! I love the people!’ It was one of those happy accidents that came out. It’s a spoken-word Stella piece. She’s super musical. She’s going to be four in August.
You seem interested in doing things a little bit out of the box. ‘Ok, I am going to stick a song with my baby in between all these funky tracks…’
I am not trying to do anything that is status quo. There’s no point. If I don’t feel like it’s moving things forward, then it’s not worthwhile. Mainstream music might be satisfied with mediocrity and stuff, but for me, if it doesn’t challenge me, then naturally by extension it’s not a challenge. It’s got to perk my ears. But at the same time, I’m not doing it to be like, ‘This song is this type of song and it fits in this type of category and so on.’ When I put a collection of music together, one of my goals is to personally express something I think is fresh. That also lends itself to a flow. The stuff that comes naturally and easily most times is the stuff that is exciting and fresh and new and unexpected. It doesn’t come from a lot of struggle and laboring over it. The stuff you over-think and deliberate is the stuff that can fit into a box—because you have those constraints. Freedom allows you to do things that are fresh as opposed to doing things that have already been done.
Your stuff isn’t hard to take in. It’s digestible but I can pick out the little details happening at once.
I don’t want to create music that’s just heady. ‘Oh my gosh, this is so complicated and out there that it’s inaccessible.’ One of the goals is to make music that you can listen to easily and you don’t have to go to that place where you’re totally listening to every little thing. But if you want to delve into it, it’s there. That’s the challenge as a music maker. Off the bat you don’t have to get theoretical about it to dig, but you want to create something long-lasting so people can come back and hear something new. The music that I love the most is the stuff that originally just struck me and made me feel good. It gives me an emotion or something I can relate to. What I come back to are the intricacies and that brings up feelings too. That’s the beauty of art in general. It’s not a one-shot thing. It’s not just, ‘Alright, listen to this, put it down, you’re done with it.’ I think as a culture in time, that’s naturally what we’re doing. We get something, put it down, and it’s disposable. Good music isn’t supposed to be disposable.
What’s a record you’ve held onto since forever?
There’s so many! That’s a beautiful thing. There’s so much good music and it continues being created. The first record my mom bought me was Kind Of Blue by Miles Davis. She bought it for me when I was ten. I listen to that weekly to this day. That’s the best selling jazz record of all time. Thriller, you know—speaking of which, Michael Jackson was the first musician and entertainer that I consciously said, ‘Oh man, I want to do this. I want to dance.’ I was in grade school, and popping and breaking was huge. I heard Michael and I was like, ‘I wanna pop. I want to sing.’ He was an icon. David Bowie, later, Prince. My mom got me the red Thriller jacket. It wasn’t actual leather—that shit ended up falling apart.
Your mom seems pretty cool.
She was totally cool. When I was maybe eleven or twelve, my mom took me—a kid—to Purple Rain, which was very controversial when it came out. It was like, ‘Do you know what this movie is about?’ Prince and Michael Jackson and Stevie Wonder—and Etta James was a huge influence. This was just the music that was in my house. Along with Bob Dylan and Joni Mitchell and Jimi Hendrix and Coltrane and Miles and Dizzy Gillespie and Charles Mingus. My folks were into this stuff. My dad is a musician. They met in Greenwich Village. My dad was a performer at the same time when bop was in the Village. They were seeing Coltrane and Miles. Coltrane kissed my mother’s hand. Bop was huge and folk was huge in their world. That’s what they were digging. It was all going down in the same places. There was a club called the Bitter End that my dad was playing at, and Nina Simone was playing there, and at the same time Bob Dylan was playing there. Music wasn’t, ‘This is folk and this is jazz, and that’s where this goes and that goes there.’ It was all in the same club and area and thriving. Luckily that influence of my folks was accessible to me growing up. I feel blessed for that.
Did your parents give you any advice on what music is all about?
What I’ve learned is that music is about communication. Music is about expressing yourself. My dad didn’t want me to be in the music business. It wasn’t until I started making my own records and putting my stuff on the forefront and him being able to hear it, and that was just a handful of years ago. This was after I became a man—he was like, ‘Alright, you really want to do this? OK, I’m proud of you.’ He always supported me playing music for the sake of playing music but it was clear he didn’t want me to make a living at it because it’s such a hard thing. Very few people actually make it and many of them at the end of it lose everything. It’s not something you get into because you want to make money and be successful. You get into it because you have to. You will do this regardless of what’s happening around you. He knew it was a hard life because he went through it. I mean—now he is a school teacher. He still gigs but he was doing music as a living for twenty years and it was really hard to feed his family. He didn’t want me to live that life. But he realizes I understand that it’s up and down and it’s for the love of it.
Not everyone can articulate their life’s meaning that way.
It’s taken time. When I was a teenager, my idea was, ‘I wanna be famous.’ The important things with time become clear. I know for sure regardless of all the other stuff that exists in this business, I do my thing. I know it’s crucial to my existence to write songs, record them, perform them. That is the stability in it all. Nobody has control of that except for me. Nobody can tell me whether I can do that or not. Regardless of success—and maybe I am not a huge success. This is an underground thing after all. It doesn’t matter. The important thing is you stay focused on the point of it and the point of it is to express it and get it out, and if that’s to 100 people in your immediate community or to a million people globally—the point is that it has to be created for me to feel good about myself and to feel like I’m contributing to the world. I got to make music and that’s how it is. It’s still hard and all that other shit and you can’t ignore that, but when it’s all said and done, I know why I’m doing this. Sorry—this has gotten heavy.

L.A. RECORD PRESENTS NINO MOSCHELLA WITH CHIN CHIN AND ARMEN NALBANDIAN PLUS DJs ON FRI., JULY 31, AT THE DAKOTA LOUNGE, 1026 WILSHIRE BLVD., SANTA MONICA. 7 PM / $10 / 21+. DAKOTALOUNGE.COM. NINO MOSCHELLA’S BOOMSHADOW IS OUT NOW ON UBIQUITY. VISIT NINO MOSCHELLA AT NINOMOSCHELLA.COM OR MYSPACE.COM/NINOMOSCHELLA.

Download: The Veils “Three Sisters”

(from Sun Gangs out now on Rough Trade)

American rock critics, after their oft-coldblooded fashion, took note of the battered heart of frontman Finn Andrews—son of XTC keyboardist Barry Andrews—since The Runaway Found first blipped the indie radar back in 2004. The Veils have undergone significant line-up shifts, but the band’s impressive energy and Finn’s ever-maturing lyrics and magniloquent vocals pay off superbly on Sun Gang, their third album now out on Rough Trade. In this interview by Ron Garmon, Finn gives up a glimpse of characteristic romanticism while putting discreet end to some rumors.

You stayed for a spell in the Flaming Lips’ hometown of Norman, OK. Tell us about that.
Finn Andrews (singer/songwriter): We slept in a classic car garage most of the time. That town is strange. We were all pretty curious about the Bible Belt and that stuff and we met a lot of really interesting people. The police followed us and raided the place a couple of times. I think we stuck out a little. That was in an interesting period. We were literally swamped and didn’t know where we were at any point. We would return there in between touring and that was our first encounter with America, really. We literally did not know where we were after a while. We didn’t know if it was east or west or in the middle or down the bottom or near the top. I found it really interesting, for we knew we’d stick out a bit and people in England talk about the Bible Belt and all that. I didn’t know what to expect, but we had a lot of fun. It was about three months on and off and we’d leave and drive either to L.A. or New York to do a show and do more shows on the way back.
The crits are talking up Sun Gang as a difficult listen, but the melodies are certainly spare and sweet enough for popular consumption, with just the right amount of heart revealed in each one. This is rocket science?
Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? Everyone has a different palate.
‘Scarecrow’ implies an emotional transformation. Tell us about ‘not being made for these times.’
The record is still kind of coming into focus for me a little bit. There’s a lag time and I’ve begun to think on it and I still think I’m going through it. I just hate having spent the majority of my young life in a decade known as ‘the noughties.’ That makes me want to puke. That might be a kind of pretentious answer.
One gets an impression of a kind of record kept or a scrapbook of an interior state.
I love writing and it feels like everything all at once. I was never very good at keeping a diary and I’ve tried getting up at night to write my dreams down and you feel like a wanker. It’s kind of all those things all at once.
Since critics are scrabbling to get a handle on Sun Gang’s place in the Veils’ evolution, why not tell us its place yourself?
I think we’re probably in the ‘land invertebrates’ stage’—awaiting ‘social insects’ and mass extinction. It’s hard to predict what will happen next.
What was it like working with Graham Sutton as a producer?
It was good. That record kind of came at the end of a pretty relentless period. We’d been on the road for a very long time and finally fell off the road and into this weird little wooden chamber of a studio in West London. All my memories of that period are red. We kind of needed someone to pull us together and he was very encouraging.
I imagine at that point most of the band activity was comprised of staring off into space.
There was a lot of that, yeah. We always thought it was a real privilege to make records and that kind of slapped us around a bit. I was kind of hesitating going back into the studio until we could do it right and that time felt just perfect.
The album comes to a kind of ringing emotional climax with ‘Larkspur,’ the penultimate track. Did Sun Gang have a kind of formal structure going in or did the shape come later?
I always thought that song should be where it was on the track listing. That’s a strange song. We’d never played it before we recorded it and we did it in one take. That’s very precious to us. I’d only written one line lyrically before we went in. I kind of told everyone I’d had this song and wanted to play and record it once and that’s what happens. It is as it was.
Drummer Henning Dietz has left for good?
Yes, he just left after the show in Berlin two weeks ago and a new friend is filling that out.
Have you ever played Spaceland before?
Yeah. We played there on our first tour. I think that was the last show for our keyboard player as well.
One Veil comes off after another.
Yeah. It’s like revolving Doors.
Address the rumors you were being courted as a solo act.
I dunno what people are thinking. It’s nice to be talked about.
It’s not surprising, being the kind of offer that was dangled before, say, Jim Morrison.
No, I wouldn’t want to give this up at this point. We’re a band and I wouldn’t want to run away from that now.
How do you like the title ‘21st Century Romantic?’
As what?
As a title. Try it on for a while.
Whatever makes them smile.

THE VEILS WITH FOREIGN BORN AND OTHER GIRLS ON TUE., JULY 14, AT DETROIT BAR, 843 W. 19TH ST., COSTA MESA. 9 PM / $12 / 21+. DETROITBAR.COM. AND WITH LUKE TOP AND OTHER GIRLS ON WED., JULY 15, AT SPACELAND, 1717 SILVERLAKE BLVD., SILVERLAKE. 8:30 PM / $12-$14 / 21+. CLUBSPACELAND.COM. THE VEILS’ SUN GANG IS OUT NOW ON ROUGH TRADE. VISIT THE VEILS AT THEVEILS.COM OR MYSPACE.COM/THEVEILS.

Stream: The Heptones “Book Of Rules”

The Heptones’ Leroy Sibbles touched more than the majority of Studio One’s hit songs, whether in his own band or as the obfuscated group of studio musicians known variously as Sound Dimension or the Soul Investigators or as the man who played the bass on classics by the Abyssinians or Dennis Brown. He will be leading the Lions at Dub Club. This interview by Chris Ziegler.

When was the last time you visited L.A.?
Leroy Sibbles (bass/vocals): A long time man, a long time.
Did you get to visit Disneyland?
I’ve never been.
Do you want to go?
Oh yeah, man—any invitation—I’ll take you up, man! I want to go.
Is it true that the first time you ever met Toots of later Maytals fame he tried to sell you weed around the corner?
No, it’s not like that. He asked me to go buy a gram of weed for him—the other way around!
What was it like first meeting people like Toots and Jackie Mittoo and the Abyssianians and all the people who’d all becomes very famous later?
It was exciting ‘cause when you are young almost everything is exciting and new. After you grow up then you got to find stuff to really create new interest because you’ve seen it all. But growing up, everything is of high interest and plays a special part in your development, you know?
What’s the first moment in your musical career where you couldn’t believe what was happening to you?
It was the first time I heard my voice on the radio. The very first time. I was running around—I ran through Trench Town. I was like, ‘Hey, listen to that—that’s me there!’ That was the most exciting day of my life. Even to this day, nothing has ever topped that.
At Studio One, who was the best musician to spend an entire day with in the studio?
In the beginning, the most important person in the music at Studio One when I got there—the most important to me—was Jackie Mittoo. Oh yeah, he was super fantastic, man.
Didn’t he used to play two keyboards at once?
I forgot that he did that! He would do three things. A piano in one hand. A piano on the left hand and on the right hand he would be playing the melody of the song and on the foot pedal he would be playing the bass.
What kind of things did he teach you?
Almost like everything. Just being next to these guys and hearing them and watching them do their thing was a learning experience.
You were in the Studio One house band for so long—what songs do people know that you played on?
Oh yeah, man. We can start with ‘Satta Massa Ganna.’ ‘Declaration of Rights’ and ‘Pass The Dutchie’—that was originally another one called ‘Full Up.’ I did ‘Queen of the Minstrels.’ There was a group called the Mad Lads—they did a song called ‘Ten To One.’ All throughout the studio, I was recording for people who were out there on the streets. ‘Drifter,’ that was another big song. There’s so much songs, man—‘Freedom Blues.’ ‘Nanny Goat.’
How fast were you doing this?
Five songs per day. Every day—Monday to Friday. We had a lot of songs in there!
Did you get any credit?
No credit. I would say at least 60 to 65% of Studio One hit songs are mine. Albums too! Each album—remember No Man Is An Island by Dennis Brown? That’s one of the biggest. I played on that whole album. I played on John Holt’s Rob And Cheat You album. And a lot of the arrangements are mine. I was self taught. And I learned a lot from being around the studio there. I have a musical ear. I would say I’m born with that gift. If I hear something, I can figure music around it.
Would the musicians ever resist since you were so young?
After they saw what I could do, no. I think being the lead singer and lead arranger and vocalist they knew I had the talent. I was chosen by Jackie Mittoo. He picked me to come play this. I was 17 or 18—somewhere around there. They were all young guys—we were in the same age group. Fil Callendar on drums, Robbie Lyn on keyboards… After Jackie left, we were the guys left doing the stuff in the studio and they all looked up to me. I was the real roots guy down there. They were all midtown or uptown—I was the real roots guy, so I had the ideas. Because when Jackie Mittoo left—he was the arranger—and they went for Ernest Ranglin, and Ernest Ranglin came with jazz. It wasn’t roots—wasn’t what they were looking for! And they went for another guy Richard Ace—another jazz oriented kind of person and they couldn’t do it.
So they came to you?
I started laying some tracks for myself—for the Heptones. Earlier songs like ‘I Shall Be Released’ and another one that I did—‘Sweet Talking.’ No one really went and said, ‘Well, want you to do this.’ But I found myself in there at the controller picking the singers at the audition process and then Monday through Friday I would be there recording these people.
People off the street like you used to be?
People off the street would come in on Sunday and we’d listen to them and we’d lay something down if they had something going. Cornell Campbell, the Mad Lads—when I hear them I was like, ‘Yep, these are guys I want to work with.’ People like Burning Spear. They’d all come—right in the yard of the studio grounds!
How did you break it to them if it wasn’t going to work?
I tell them the truth. If I think you have something but you need to work on it some more. Or maybe the songs are good but they aren’t what we’re looking for so go write some other songs and come back. When Coxsone used to do auditions, he would hear some guy that he didn’t like and he would say, ‘Come back in six years time.’ Six years. You know he’s telling them don’t come back, you know. ‘Seven years!’
How did you know what you were looking for?
You could hear the guys who would. You got the ear for this thing. When the guy was approaching you, you knew it right away, man. There’s no easy answer. But if they have consistency and if they have the writing, you know—if it was what’s happening with the times, if they come with that, then that’s it. If he’s performing while he’s singing. If he was singing on four or five songs. Because there would be guys with only one song. And if he can’t sing another song, maybe he can’t fill that writing gap.
Who was somebody that you always wanted to work with that you never got a chance to?
Back then—it’s been a long time now. Back then I being a bass man, we used to do harmonies. We used to be covering so much material in the music, you know? I was arranging, writing, doing the horns—arranging the way the song should move. The only part that wasn’t so nice was not being able to get paid for what I was doing. Even getting recognized—even recognition because when these albums on the jacket, Coxsone would not put who the arranger was, or put himself sometimes. We the musicians should be getting credit. We should be the ones getting reimbursed. But no one told us the right way to go about this. It’s all messed up. I’ve been getting a small amount of royalty from the Island Record deal that we did. Yeah, right now with Atlantic, I’m still paid royalty. Every now and then I get a check and I’m grateful.
When you recorded with Lee Perry, he was wearing an astronaut suit—is that true?
A lie, man. He was so weird he could have wear it but he didn’t when I was around.

THE HEPTONES BACKED BY THE LIONS ON WED., JUNE 24, AT DUB CLUB AT THE ECHOPLEX, 1154 GLENDALE BLVD., ECHO PARK. 9PM / $10-$15 / 18+. ATTHEECHO.COM. LEROY SIBBLES AND THE LIONS WILL RELEASE THE ‘PICTURE’ 45 SOON. VISIT LEROY SIBBLES AT LEROYSIBBLES.COM, THE HEPTONES.COM OR MYSPACE.COM/THEHEPTONES.