Never in a million years did I expect that a shade over forty-eight hours in Louisville would have such a profound effect on me. A sudden rush of emotion has swept over me as I prepare to depart this cordial and beautiful place. But, tomorrow is another day, and tomorrow I will be making my way toward Chicago, where I have interviews lined up with Tim Midgett (Silkworm), Jeff Mueller (Shipping News/June of 44), Mark Bartak (Quatre Tete), and Trevor Debrauw (Pelican) over the course of the next three days.
Woke up on the floor of Brooke’s pad (Brooke’s wall art pictured here; “common room” pictured here; fridge pictured here), a sleeping bag beneath me, her blanket draped over me, a cold chill coursing through my veins. I turned the air conditioning on and set it way too low. Last night I dreamt I was working in a record store and Mark Prindle entered and engaged me in conversation. As I left the store I made my way through a children’s playground where I was propositioned by a prostitute. For all of you psychology majors, now’s the time to put your Freud hats on and analyze these visions of mine.
Took a shower in the coldest damned shower I’ve ever had the displeasure of experiencing. I guess the hot water has been shut off already. Put on comfortable clothes, sat on the front porch eating a bagel, drinking some water, and watching the University of Louisville in the distance. Then I made my way to Highland Coffee on Fourth Street to meet Stephen George, music editor of the Louisville Eccentric Observer.
He walked in, preternaturally thin and fitting the stylistic aesthetic of the “indie kid”, holding a copy of Don Delillo’s White Noise. Right away I knew it was him. I told him how amazing that book was and we talked about novels for a few minutes before my totally random line of questioning began. For the record, I’m going into most of these interviews cold (that is, lacking any written out questions) because I don’t want to miss a potential new avenue of discussion because I’m waiting for a pause to ask my next question. He told me about growing up in the area and playing music in high school with friends. When he was 15, a relative asked him what he was doing for the summer, to which Stephen responded “playing music, all the time.” Despite having his heart set on a life of musicianship, his mother responded, “he’s going to be a music writer…. Mother knows best.” Stephen’s first gig was with a band called The National Acrobat, a group that recorded about 4 EPs and played about 170 shows across the country, only to disband with the prospect of a publishing deal and a European tour waiting for them on the table. From there he played with The Slow Suicide, and eventually with IRINA and Lords, all of which have left some mark on the Louisville music scene. When he turned 21, he started freelancing for LEO and another glossy East-End magazine, and after a several-thousand-word expose on coal mining in Western Kentucky, “they [LEO] figured, ‘hey- this kid is capable,'” and he was offered a job. As for Louisville, he stated that he and his friends love to refer to it as “the golden handcuffs,” because the cost of living is so insanely cheap and the ease in which people can become immersed in the culture of the art and music scenes is remarkable. He called it a town trying to act like a big city. He stressed the different facets of the music that has emerged from this area, as well. Despite the national press picking up mostly on the early 90’s indie/post-rock movement, Louisville’s musical past is as rich as anywhere in the country. Some historians argue that the pre-cursor to Dixieland jazz was a style reared in Louisville. We talked for over an hour, and then we walked down to the LEO office where he introduced me to the paper’s editor and gave me a serious load of back-issues to use in my book. Then I sat in front of a water fountain on Fourth Street taking calls from LA and Chicago and NJ.
Next I drove to a where Tim Furnish of Crain lives with his family. I parked in his driveway and rung the doorbell. I thanked him and told him I hope I wasn’t imposing, and he told me not to worry, he was just upstairs working. He’s been freelancing as of late, working out of his house. We went up to his attic, which is a small studio with a nice computer, some pre-amps and a lot of amplifiers, effects and a drum kit. I sat in a swivel chair and he pulled up another one. We sat for about forty minutes talking about Cerebellum, Crain and his post-Crain life. Despite my desire not to ask questions about the formation of bands or the history of bands, it seemed like he was more comfortable answering these questions than the broad, general questions about growing up in Louisville and comparing it to other cities. Tim was generally soft spoken and gave immediate responses to questions. On some of the more open-ended ones, he took a lot of time thinking out his answers, which were also quite brief. This was the lone interview I recorded, I’ll transcribe it soon.
My final meeting of the day was with JK McKnight at Cumberland Brews (not my photo) on Bardstown Road. I met him on the street, he was welcoming and we grabbed a table and spoke for over 90-minutes before I realized I had to go. In fact, it seemed like he wasn’t really interested in letting me depart. He took me down the street to Why Louisville? to meet Jason and Will and Dennis, who are all connected in some obscure way I hardly remember. I think they started the Lebowski Fest, which has gone to various cities across the United States and is undeniably awesome. JK is a songwriter and a promoter, he just finished playing Summerfest in Milwaukee, and is right now focusing his attention on Forecastle, a grassroots festival in Louisville that he birthed and has been overseeing for the past four years. Most of our conversation revolved around the process of putting on such a huge show, how said show has changed and expanded through the years, and where he hopes to take it from here. We spoke a lot about progressive politics and the huge role that activism plays in the festival. He described Louisville as the democratic island in a sea of conservatism. His main objective seems to be to expand Forecastle into a regional and eventually a national festival, all while retaining activism as the centerpiece. Despite having some corporate sponsorship, he’s trying to make sure that in the future, vendors use environmentally safe cups and containers, that flyers are printed on recyclable paper, and generally making sure every aspect of Forecastle is grounded in these beliefs. Otherwise, you’ll end up with something like the Vans Warped Tour or Bonaroo, where the message is lost in the music. JK was also immensely gregarious and friendly, we spoke a ton about the amazing artwork all over the city, and how Louisville is actually more renowned at the moment for it’s artwork than it is for it’s music. He also commented how this popularity comes in cycles. Sometimes local writers garner national attention, sometimes artists, and sometimes musicians. Still, they all come together to create a stunning portrait of a very artistically aware city. For a city that, until maybe 15 years ago consisted of a giant hole in the ground, Louisville continues to draw in new, fascinating souls, while managing to retain those who grew up in the area. Like Stephen, JK made reference to the pride that all the city’s natives have for their home, and–unlike many other places he’s lived and seen–they’re entirely committed to promoting the arts. On the first Friday of each month the city sponsors gallery hops down Market Street, and on the last Friday of each month they hop down Frankfurt. We wrapped our conversation by talking about his future plans and mine as well, and promised to send news one another’s way. He gave me about 20 subway-sized Forecastle posters to take on the road with me. Right now I have no idea what to do with them and they’re taking up almost my entire trunk.
I came back to Brooke’s to find her sitting on the porch. I apologized for my lateness and told her I was treating her to dinner for being such a good sport and taking care of a stranger with no friends in town. We went to a little place–I can’t remember the name– ate and chatted about our respective days, life, and all that. She even got me to taste some weird cucumber and tofu dish that absolutely sickened me to look at (hey, you don’t get to be this thin eating healthy. in fact, you don’t get to be this thin by eating).
After she dropped me off I drove up to Bardstown again to get a drink with the local crowd and soak in the atmosphere one more time before leaving. As I parked on a street called Atila, I rounded the corner and literally tripped over Will FUCKING Oldham. He was walking with a woman and I must’ve paused dead in my tracks and said, “…Hey…Will…” to which he smiled, nodded, and said “Hey, man.” I think I was too starstruck to say anything further. I turned around to chase after him and mention how we’d e-mailed once or twice and the book idea, but I hesitated for too long and they were soon out of sight. I randomly bumped into JK again, who was driving around handing out Forecastle’s after party passes. Maybe a half hour later, I got in my car and headed home. Here I lay. Sore and tired. Here I sleep. Tomorrow I leave.
Chicago.
