by Brad Rose

It came from three different directions at once. First, my grandfather is a very good singer of traditional Dine' (Navajo) songs. This music was always around when I was growing up and is definitely responsible for sparking the initial interest. Also early on, I was fortunate that a woman named Dawn Chambers had taken it upon herself to teach my sister and I the piano. After our teacher invited us to her own performances, I found out that this woman was a composer and was involved in all kinds of weird soundings and happenings. Thirdly, most rural towns seem to have a strong Metal scene and I can't help but believe that this has influenced the noisier parts of my music in some way. When I was older and moved to Albuquerque, it was my intention to form some kind of loud band, but could only find the worst players with the worst gear on Earth. And that sound has since become a preference.

I am excited by artists who choose to represent their home region (and not another's) in their work. I believe that this can be done no matter how loud or quiet or ugly your music might be.

There is an unbelievable amount of original music being made in New Mexico, though don't confuse it with anything you would see in the rock-and-roll bar. It is too many times to count where I have met a musician-transplant who has moved to New Mexico from a larger city or different country and has not bothered to investigate the musical history of their new home. (Someone should explain to me why there is a large number of Balinese gamelan players here...huh??) Recently though, I am seeing that more musicians are making attempts to discover the musics of rural America, but I believe that it is too early to gauge if it is a genuine interest.

Regarding experimental music, the climate in New Mexico and Arizona is increasingly positive; in the past there was always a lack of venues and audience. In larger cities, one might not be afraid to play a 2-hour drone set. In the desert, you'd better set up a chicken wire fence around your rig if you're going to pull that off.

solo: Most of the work I do under my real name is either in the realm of experimental noise, noise songs, OR are chamber works I have written for “classical” instruments and ensembles. The former usually involves the use of homemade microphones and bastard electronics/instruments. The latter rarely uses anything other than the players and their instruments (in other words, I don't like to use electronic effects/sounds in the chamber pieces.)

KILT (sometimes called Dead Wolf Black) West Coast noise trio with Bob Bellerue (Redglaer) and Sandor Finta (Harassor). I use the same type of altered instruments as my solo tunes.

Dog Shit Taco L.A. very large band of “classical” musicians but the sound is like some kind of noise-metal, led by Stane Hubert (Bavab Bavab). Many in the group made their own instruments (acoustic or electr[on]ic). I played affected bass and occasional piano. Some very good players from the L.A. new-music scene have played in DST at one time or another.

Christ with Braces L.A. large group improv noise that I formed with Stane Hubert.

Xicana Machete L.A. very short-lived group that I formed/led. Basically, it was 2 pop bands that played separate songs that I wrote simultaneously.)

Modernativensemble This has been a work in progress, but has been going on for a dozen years or so. It is another group I have always been trying to form, this time with all American Indian performers, but between you and I it has been a challenge to find the right people to stoop to the wrong sounds. We also sing traditional songs.

Black Drink current and new recording project with Tom Hohmann (USAisaMonster) and Barbara Schauwecker (Animental). We have a tape coming out as soon as Tom dubs them.

Cobra//group (a.k.a. Death Convention Singers or Dirty Birdies) is based out of NM and is really three groups in one. Originally, the main group came together because there was much interest among some (rock, classical, mariachi, etc.) musicians in Albuquerque toward realizing the works of avant-garde composers (Cage, J. Zorn (group is named after COBRA game), C. Cardew, George Brecht). I had gathered these musicians together for the purpose of performing these pieces, but we only went so far with that.

What has come to happen is that is that we began to write pieces or situations or songs for each other. It has really evolved to a large band, perhaps 15 or so regularly revolving players from various musical backgrounds, spread out across the Southwest. Some members of this group include Jessica Billey (The Mekons), Ken Cornell (Alchemical Burn) and Gameboybanjo player Bud Melvin.

Recently, the personnel and interests of the group have grown to a point where we will eventually split the band into two. The Death Convention Singers being the part that is almost like a song-writing-type band whereas the Dirty Birdies are picking up the experiments where the original group is leaving off.

Still, with the larger collective group, we are very dedicated to the region in which we find ourselves. We hope that we are following the strong musical tradition of the Southwest, despite our volume and tunings.

OTHER PROJECTS:
CANOE/NACAP: A good part of my year has me going to various reservations in the country and teaching young Native musicians how to make experimental music. They are to learn music notation, but that is about all the "Classical music" history they can expect. Sometimes there is no time for them to learn the notation or we are lacking chamber musicians in the region. If they own an electric guitar (but no amp) and an old boombox, we find a way to write for what we have. Other Americana.

Sicksicksick: My micro-label for the low-brow experimental music of the Southwest.

I suppose that I am drawn to music where the artist at least attempts some display of authenticity toward or at least acknowledgment of the lineage that got them there. Trends never do go away, and these days there is much romantic following toward an imaginary American past, while there are much more (other) stories to be told, without irony. A potential of great variety, but still identifiably American music, exists and is waiting to be made.

One example is a band called Spirit Bears who are from the deepest parts of Yup'ik Alaska. When I first heard their recording I thought that they mic'ed a whale. When I saw them live I heard other things: what little I know of Yup'ik music I could hear in their songs. Though, it is not necessary for them to quote their regional music. It just comes out and new instrumentation was exploited to aid it.

The sound artists Leticia Castaneda and Albert Ortega also present a regional aesthetic in their work; it is noticeable to me that they are telling a different story than other native Los “Angelenos”. To me, they show care in being these representatives. Technically, the use of field recordings and visual art could be used to celebrate such regionalism, but sometimes it is merely their presence that tells you when an artist has a good relationship with their home.

Shows can be infrequent in Dine'tah (Navajo Nation) so it is best to do the noisiest stuff at a metal show. Metalheads out there go crazy for this more than the ones in the cities do; I am usually invited to play a few shows a year out there. What is nice is that in my hometown, the elders have been really supportive of what I do, and I honestly believe that they are thinking: "At least it's not rap."

But seriously, my hope is that my ongoing learning of traditional music is showing up in the right place inside my music.

What I have to be careful of, and has been my concern, is when I teach younger ones about chamber music. Again, the history of European music has no place in my teachings out there. It is solely about how to use these old instruments for their new needs and should not be looked at as the other way around.

I moved out to the West Coast at the early part of the decade for graduate studies in composition at CalArts. It was my intention to follow a course of learning in chamber composition and my specific reason for going there was to study with James Tenney (R.I.P.). When I arrived there, I soon realized that the place is basically 1000 crazy people trapped in a four-story subterranean building. It was there that I met Bob Bellerue where he was building mixers or writing software or something like that and making very loud solo music as well. We later embarked on some West Coast tours of our solo projects and eventually started KILT as a duo.

Los Angeles has a very collaborative and overlapping experimental music community where you will inevitably end up in a project with those who you see at every show that you attend. Sandor had already played dozens of other loud “bands” in town so it was appropriate that we turned this duo into three. I believe, though I may be wrong, that our intention is not necessarily noise; I'm realizing more and more that we three share an unconscious interest in wind instruments because they keep creeping their way into the music. What I mean is that the use of horns and flutes and whistles is equally important to us as our “bastardized” electronic devices.

Aside from finding excuses to party at inappropriate times, we just had a great time being down south in the winter.

Memphis and Denton stand out to me: nice as hell people in the former, speaker-huggers in the latter. Denver is always a crazy time. No one should ever skip that city. I'd have to say this time out we had the most surreal continuous 13 hours hanging out with MC Trachiotomy down in New Orleans. He never sleeps, he played the show too and it was like his set never ended.

This one came from all 4 sides at once. First, much of what Cobra//group does is based in local anonymity and by that I mean internally. In live situations, we are sometimes uncertain of which members will be playing the show until we're on. Recording-wise, we often will trade files with each other over distance, pastiching our tracks that way. Most of us are working musicians and have many things on many plates, so it has worked out for this project where we are okay with being interchangeable and set ourselves up in different combinations because we know each other (aurally) so well. The second reason we recorded in total darkness was to battle shyness and expected roles. Similarly thirdly, to avoid improvisational etiquette and routines and ruts of form that large improv groups find themselves in. Lastly, the darkness aided our ongoing experiments in superstition-feedback, EVP, and other no-nos.

Our first full-length was titled “Locas” because we hoped to instigate some kind of chola fight in there. Our first recording session for this second disc took place at a house near a ditch in a little village called Corrales. The story around these parts is of a woman who drowns her kids and becomes a witch so we had to name this one “Brujas”.

This year will be the fifth year that I have taught the NACAP program (CANOE is a newer similar endeavor). The program has been successful and well-received in the communities. I suppose the hardest part is a problem that is happening everywhere today. Music and arts classes are being cut in high school, so of course there seems to be less students each year who have the skills or interest needed to set about composing in this format. What is amazing is that on most reservations about 80% of the kids play guitar. No joke. It's the water.

Another challenge is helping each student go about finding the individual music that they are intended to make. The sum of all of the music that they have ever heard, at least as a starting point. Most of these students initial pieces turn out to be this hyper-baroque/metal-crazy-hesher-string-music. While this is great, it is hard to hear 30 of them in a week. Definitely, part of the solution is a re-acquaintance with the appropriate traditional music .

I've got three of them if that's ok:
Acre “A Shield of Air, Born of Light”
Tim Archambault “Algonquin Flute Songs” (recorded for the Smithsonian)
Eiliyas sampler CD-R

There is a new underground railroad zig-zagging between L.A. and Tulsa. Keep it low.

Donkey pic by Wild Don Lewis