PART I: INTRODUCTION/EXPLANATORY
SCREED
Let me be straight with you: if you’ve come here looking for
anything resembling journalistic impartiality, just turn the page.
Now that that’s been said, welcome to the Ann Arbor Paper’s
new local music column. We’ve got a lot to talk about, but
first I’d like to extrapolate on the above statement.
I’ve lived in Ann Arbor for most of my adult life, and in
this time, I’ve come to love it dearly. Our local music community
has always been a big reason for that: there’s a constant
magic in the air, even (especially?) at those dubiously legal shows
in living rooms and basements that only five people show up to,
and this town has an amazing group of people that just bum around,
take it all in, or at best, participate.
So, this column is technically about music, but when it comes right
down to it, it’s really about the community that comes along
with it... a community I’m interested in writing about because
I happen to be PART of it. I go to as many shows as I can, and I’m
usually at the same party everyone else ends up at after the show.
I’m in the bar talking to or about local musicians; I’m
on the radio every week spinning local music (I play shows as a
musician, as well, but I shan’t sink to tawdry self-promotion
here).
Being around all that, it makes sense that many of my favorite people
in this town are also some of my favorite musicians. With that in
mind, go ahead and say that I’m just writing a column about
my friends. You won’t really be wrong. What one misses with
that mentality, though, is that I’ve spent the last few years
making friends with people that often make INCREDIBLE FUCKING MUSIC,
just as worthy of your attention as anything else out there, if
not more so. The best part? It’s happening right here, right
now. Give me bitter shit about all this if you want, call me a “hipster,”
whatever... I’m an adult, I can take it. Y’know, though,
I didn’t know anything about any of this when I came here,
but instead of complaining, I went out and found out about it. You
can do just the same; I’m just here to help.
PART II: PROFILE- CHARLIE SLICK
Lately, I’ve been having this same basic exchange a lot:
SOME DUDE: Hey, have you seen Charlie Slick?
ME: Yeah, I know Chuck.
SOME DUDE: Man... that dude is outRAGEous.
Well, word was bound to get around eventually . . . when Charlie
Slick performs, one is hard put to ignore him. Slick is a rather
average-looking guy in his early 20s. He doesn’t drink, or
do drugs. He’s typically reserved in conversation. Yet, he
proceeds to steal almost any show he plays, without the help of
a backing band.
How does he do it? Well, it’s pretty similar to how our own
Andrew WK started stealing shows some years back: pre-recorded backing
tracks, wild dance moves, and catchy choruses, with a touch of bubble
machine and strobe lights for good measure. Where they differ is
in the music itself: whereas Andrew WK draws influence from the
overblown anthems of Twisted Sister, Quiet Riot, etc., Charlie Slick
is more a descendent of synth pop pioneers like Soft Cell and Thomas
Dolby.
Despite his overt influences, though, Slick bristles at the thought
of being viewed as a “retro” act. He’s not interested
in living in the past; he’d rather drag the synthesizer out
of the 1980s and into the 21st century, if for no other reason than
that he’s grown weary of guitars. “I’m just real
tired of the guitar... I’m just sick of hearing it,”
Slick states, a toned-down version of his onstage anti-guitar tirades.
“I hate it in the way that some people hate country music...
(I just) hate what most people do when they’re using the guitar.”
This attitude has drawn occasional heckles, but it has also drawn
a devoted following, including a significant amount of high school
kids. “It’s hard for (people my age) to get into it,
because they think I’m making a big joke, but really it’s
serious,” he says, trying to explain his appeal to the younger
set. “Younger people aren’t trying to be ‘cool’
as much. They can get into it when I‘m telling everyone to
dance, and shooting bubbles, and throwing confetti at people. They
don’t want to just stand and stare at me”.
Lately, more and more people have been getting into Slick’s
act, but some nights he still encounters stares and crossed arms,
giving him the appearance of a man on a very lonely holy mission.
He has his reasons for flying solo, though: “I’ll always
be at my show. I’ll always be ready to play. I’ll always
be well-practiced. Everything I want to do, I can do, musically.
There’s no arguing, it’s straight up what I want. It’s
my dream.”
Charlie Slick plays frequently about town; go to www.charlieslick.com
for details. His new album, Pass The Time Machine, is due out soon.
PART III: FULL DISCLOSURE
Charlie Slick also plays in The Big Good, a great band that I tried
to join, but failed... well, I might still be their official tambourine
player.
PART IV: BITS and PIECES
—Kelly Jean Caldwell’s new EP, Lobo, is out
now on We’re Twins Records (weretwins.com). It doesn’t
quite match the shambolic beauty of her last LP, Banner Of A
Hundred Hearts, which came out earlier this year on Ypsilanti
Records, but truth be told, little does. Still, this is well worth
picking up, as Ms. Caldwell’s simple, beautiful work in the
last couple years has been about as galvanizing to this city’s
young singer/songwriters as The Ramones were to ‘70s punk.
A bold statement? See for yourself.
—NEXT MONTH: The Descent Of The Holy Ghost Church, a local
supergroup who, if they continue at their as-yet-rapid clip, will
soon be your new favorite band. Again with the bold statements!
Email Dustin Krcatovich at partyends@annarborpaper.com
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