David Wax Museum, Darlingside
Johnny Brenda's
04/09/2016 07:30 PM EDT
$16.00
buy tickets
Supporting Acts: Haroula Rose
David Wax Museum
"Suz and I started this band as friends," says David Wax, "but now we’re married and
have a child and have our family on the road with us. The stakes are different."
Those stakes are what lie at the heart of David Wax Museum's fourth and boldest
studio album to date, Guesthouse (to be released October 16 on Thirty Tigers). It's the
sound of a band reconciling the accountability of marriage and parenthood with the
uncertainty and challenges of life on the road; of coming to terms with the limitations
of the "folk" tag that launched their career and pushing past it into uncharted musical
territory; of reimagining their entire approach in the studio to capture the magic and
the bliss of their live show. In typical David Wax Museum fashion, the songs on
Guesthouse are simplistic and sophisticated, elegant and plainspoken all at once.
Rather than succumbing to the weight of the newfound responsibilities that landed on
their doorstep, the band has leaned into the challenges to capture a brilliant portrait
of the messy beauty of it all.
The roots of David Wax Museum stretch back nearly a decade, and all the way from
New England to Mexico. As a student at Harvard, Wax began traveling south of the
border to study and immerse himself in the country's traditional music and culture.
Back in Boston, he met fiddler/singer Suz Slezak, whose love of traditional American
and Irish folk music fused with Wax's Mexo-Americana into a singular, energetic blend
that captivated audiences and critics alike. Their 2010 breakout performance at the
Newport Folk Festival made them the most talked-about band of the weekend, with
NPR hailing them as "pure, irresistible joy." They released a trio of albums that earned
escalating raves everywhere from SPIN and Entertainment Weekly (who described
them as sounding "like Andrew Bird with a Mexican folk bent") to the New York Times
and The Guardian (which dubbed the music "global crossover at its best"). They earned
an invitation to return to Newport, this time on the main stage, as well as dates
supporting The Avett Brothers, The Carolina Chocolate Drops, Buena Vista Social Club,
and more.
It was on the road over these past few years as the band and audiences grew, though,
that Wax could feel their exuberant live show evolving beyond its formative roots.
"I felt empowered to start the band because of my time in Mexico studying folk music,"
Wax explains. "In Boston, the term 'Americana' or 'folk' was just this catchall to
describe what everyone was doing. It was helpful to use that to talk about our music
at first, but we've found that our hearts feel most shaken, and the band fires on all
cylinders, when we're putting on a rock show. What we've tried to retain about our
folk origins is the warm sound of people playing acoustic instruments together in a
room. But, by embracing more of an indie rock approach, we've colored this record
with synthesizers, layers of percussion, and adventurous sonic processing. The mental
shift of it helped us feel like we could do anything we wanted. There were no rules
that we had to follow in terms of what was 'authentic.'"
Part of the inspiration for the shift was the presence of guitarist and producer Josh
Kaufman, who sat in with the band on tour and added new sounds and textures that
the they'd never experimented with before. When it came time to record Guesthouse,
the band knew he had to helm it in the studio.
"The songs entered this Technicolor, 3D world with Josh," explains Wax. "Aside from
his contributions to the arrangements, he really wanted us all to be in a room playing
the music together live so that the groove would be central. We brought in two other
drummers, and there was a real focus on having as much percussion happening at the
same time as possible. We gravitate towards that naturally because of the Mexican
influences, all of the syncopations and 6/8 dance rhythms and the energy that that
gives us, but we really embraced it this time around."
That emphasis on groove sucks you in from the opening seconds of the kickoff track,
"Every Time Katie," a whispered come-on that roils and pulses like an anxious
heartbeat and features gorgeous call and response vocals from David and Suz. It's
followed by "Dark Night Of The Heart," which pushes the sonic envelope further than
any previous David Wax Museum track, blending chamber strings, psychedelic vocal
filters, explosive drums, and swirling synthesizers.
Written partially in Mexico and partially in western Massachusetts, the lyrics on
Guesthouse find Wax writing with more direct, personal honesty than ever before.
"I had felt really reluctant to talk about personal stuff in the past," says Wax. "I was
writing personally, but there were lots of things I was obfuscating or filtering through
a character to protect myself from putting too much out there. But it got to a point
where it was taking a lot more energy than it was worth to maintain that privacy.
When we had our daughter, Calliope, it felt like this sudden release because talking
and singing about our lives was becoming more and more integral to what we were
doing as artists and who we were as people."
The title track, which draws on several traditional Mexican songs for musical
inspiration, is a tongue-in-cheek reflection on the life of a traveling musician hunting
for a free place to crash, while "Lose Touch With The World" faces down the reality
of living a life far removed from that of your friends and family, and “Young Man” is
an earnest musing on growing older.
"It's about being a parent and coming to terms with what your ambition is," explains
Wax. "What part of that is essential to who you are, and what part can you let go of?
We have to check in with ourselves and ask what we're doing and why we're doing it
more often now because we're not just us putting ourselves through the mental and
physical sacrifices of touring anymore," he continues. "Now Calliope is going through it
with us, and Suz's dad and my cousin Jordan are going through it with us on the road.
And because we're constantly checking and making sure we're doing this for the right
reasons, that we feel honest in our hearts about it, I think that's brought new life to
what we're doing and a new energy and a new level of commitment."
It's a sentiment brought beautifully to life on "Everything Changes," as Wax and Slezak
sing, "Everything changes / when two becomes three." The song was written in
response to all of the good-natured warnings about what having a child would mean
for the couple, the freedom and sleep and sanity they might lose out on. Instead, they
choose to focus on everything they've gained: a beautiful daughter, a stronger bond
with their families and fans than ever before, and without a doubt, the most exciting
album of their career. For David Wax Museum, the stakes may be higher, but that just
means the rewards are even bigger.
Darlingside
“Pesticide is used to kill pests. Fratricide is when you kill your brother,” explains Darlingside’s
Dave Senft. “A former teacher of ours used to say ‘kill your darlings,’ which is to say, if you fall in
love with something you’ve written you should cross it out. We like that idea and we thought a
good name for it might be ‘darlingcide’, but we changed the ‘c’ to an ‘s’ because we’re not super
into death.” The naming of the band reflects the arch humor, cryptic wordplay, and playful banter
that the four close friends share on and off stage—but the music Darlingside plays is serious,
cinematic, and deeply moving.
On Birds Say, the Massachusetts-based quartet’s wide-open arrangements are marked by the
skillful vocal interplay of the four singers. When bassist Dave Senft, guitarist and banjo player
Don Mitchell, classical violinist and folk mandolinist Auyon Mukharji, and cellist and guitar picker
Harris Paseltiner gather around a single microphone and let their richly-textured voices loose,
they splash their melodies with a sunny melancholy that brings their lyrics to vibrant life. Subtle
musical shadings take cues from 60s folk, chamber pop, bluegrass, classical music, and modern
indie rock, while aching harmonies are complemented by tones from the harmonium, frailing
banjo, 12-string electric guitar, Wurlitzer, auto-chord organ, and grand piano. The result is a
collection of quietly passionate songs that defy easy categorization.
“Each song and set of lyrics are created by all of us together, a sort of ‘group stream-of-
consciousness,’” Harris says. “So we moved away from a single lead vocalist and started
gravitating towards singing in unison, passing the melody around, or harmonizing in four parts
through an entire song.” Live and on record, they present a unified voice by clustering around a
single condenser microphone and blending their voices in the room before they hit the mic.
Darlingside assembled the songs that make up Birds Say over the past three years in their
kitchens and living rooms, on cabin retreats, and while visiting each other’s childhood homes.
They recorded at Dimension Sound Studios in Boston with engineer and co-producer Dan
Cardinal during the city’s snowiest month in history, the streets empty due to travel bans.
Sparse notes from banjo, acoustic guitar, violin and grand piano punctuate the solemn “White
Horses,” in keeping with the song’s themes of haunting nostalgia and bleak winter inertia.
“Looking for a trace of our orchard underground / Growing in the basements beneath a brand
new town,” Harris sings delicately while the others support him with high, mournful harmonies.
Auyon, Dave, and Harris sing in unison to begin “The God of Loss,” a song that laments the
inevitable clash of the narrator’s familial, cultural, and romantic loyalties. Auyon’s somber fiddle
and the unadorned arrangement recall the isolated wail of an old Appalachian folk song,
transplanted into a bed of churning guitars. “Harrison Ford” rides lightheartedly on an echoing
hand percussion loop, goosed along by Don’s chattering banjo as he sings a lyric full of complex
internal rhymes in a style that’s part vocalese, part sideshow spiel. The ensemble supplies bursts
of fractured harmonies that mirror the action of the swordfight the speaker is having with a man
who may, or may not, be Harrison Ford.
The title track “Birds Say” is a vocal tour de force, with layered nylon-string guitars, violin, and
cello underpinning 12 multi-tracked voices that fill the sonic space with rich overtones and
intertwining harmonies as they muse on the mysteries of communication and interconnection.
Brittle synthesizer-like sounds from Auyon’s mandolin seamlessly mesh with acoustic and 12-
string Danelectro guitars for the folk rock groove of “Go Back.” The arresting a cappella intro
features all four voices lifted in harmonies that recall CSNY (Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young). The
propulsive music shifts under the vocalists, fervent as they attempt to untie the knots that
connect past and future.
“We wrote this record thinking about our childhoods, our transition into adulthood together, and
the complexities of life that we all have to grapple with now,” Don says. Lyrically and musically,
the band will follow a song wherever it takes them. “We don’t really think about genre,” Auyon
observes. “We don’t see any limits except ‘no jazz,’ because none of us know how to play it.”
And yet the band’s close harmonies and carefully crafted arrangements do occasionally spill into
loose free-form outros, surreal dream spaces, and textural experimentation. “We started dipping
into some psychedelic sounds with Dan,” says Harris, “re-amping our group vocals through a
rotating organ speaker to give them a melting, wavering Doppler effect, or pushing an instrument
through an Echoplex tape delay, which can make an acoustic guitar sound like a spaceship
taking off.” Amid unexpected soundscapes, the songs remain familiar, looking backward and
forward at the same time.
The members of Darlingside met at Williams College in western Massachusetts. “Auyon and I
were paired as freshman year roommates,” Dave recalls. “We fought often, but we spent so
much time together that we very quickly became like brothers.” They joined a singing group with
Don, and Harris joined the same group two years later. From there, the four bonded over a
shared interest in songwriting, despite a diversity of musical backgrounds and performance
styles including chamber music, choral singing, Celtic session playing, and street busking. As
soon as Harris, the youngest, graduated, the friends moved into a house on the Connecticut
River in Hadley, MA. “We had ‘family dinners’ almost every night,” says Dave, “rotating cooking
for one another, and we spent a lot of our free time out on a dilapidated houseboat that we called
the ‘Shack Raft.’”
Darlingside first toured as a five-piece indie rock band with drums, but finding the right delicate
balance of voices and instruments was a challenge early on. Then, in 2013, the band parted
ways with their long-time friend and drummer. “In our first few shows without Sam, we felt
naked,” says Auyon. Listening to the current quartet, you can hear fingers on strings, breathing
in the singing, squeaks and pumps from a harmonium. The band now performs the songs the
same way they practice and write them—seeing them live is like sitting in their living room. There
are still vestiges of the rock format: electric guitar fuzz and ambient feedback creep into
otherwise acoustic arrangements. But in the new format, voices and melody have shifted to the
forefront—a shift that has become important to the band. Harris explains, “we try to write songs
that exist out of the context we set them into, songs that can just be sung.”
After six years of playing together and a decade-plus of knowing each other, the band’s
collaborative process has evolved side by side with their friendships. “We’ve become intimate
with each other’s childhoods, families, fears, goals, insecurities and body odors,” Auyon notes.
“That kind of closeness is typically limited to romantic relationships. It’s gotten to the point where
we often mistake each other’s stories and memories for our own.” Birds Say is a patchwork of
the artistic and personal visions of four equal songwriters—a mashup of their individual and
collective experiences and dreams. “The process is so entangled,” Don says, “I sometimes can’t
remember what I wrote, or what anyone else wrote. We don’t consider a song finished until we’re
all satisfied with it. It may not be the fastest process, but we know that when we all agree on
something, it’ll sound like us.”
Venue Information
Johnny Brenda's
1201 N. Frankford Ave
Philadelphia, PA 19125
http://www.johnnybrendas.com/