Tag: Portland maine

  • Chico States at The Apohadion Theater June 8th

    Flyer for Lily Seabird, Hemlock, The Clearwater Swimmers, and Chico States at The Apohadion Theater in Portland, Maine on June 8th at 7pm, $10 cover. Flyer features a reservoir of water reflecting clouds and a windmill in a blue western sky. The text was created on burnt paper; three matches and a few hand-drawn butterflies sit three-dimensionally upon the picture's surface.

    I’m excited to share that Chico States will be playing with a great lineup on June 8th at The Apohadion Theater in Portland. It also happens to be the birthday of our bandleader Joe Barresi. We’ve played with The Clearwater Swimmers before, at Oxbow. And we’ve also played with Lily Seabird, in a way…

    Last winter we traveled to Burlington, VT for a house show with Greg Freeman, Jes, and Vega. Little did I know that the two friends Greg asked to join him were Francie Medosch, of Florry, and Lily Seabird. Each played some of their own songs and they were so good! When Medosch played, I thought, “This person definitely has something and could do a lot if she feels like it.” I found out later from Joe that she definitely does do a lot, in this great band Florry. It was a naive way to see them all for the first time, only realizing later that they’re hustling so hard out in the world.

    My favorite thing was sitting in a big recliner with a few beers and listening to an hour of Beatles songs, perfectly played on a piano, by a group of partygoers with inordinate grace. Lily kind of ran the piano and I’ve since learned that she also does her own songs very damn well. She put on Trash Mountain on Lame-O Records in April. Joe also informed me that the house itself was called Trash Mountain, so I feel lucky to have participated. Anyway, we’re very grateful to play in this show! It’s at 7pm and the cover is $10. Would love to see you there.

  • En chantant Mama You Been On My Mind de Bob Dylan dans le froid avec guitare slide

    Peu de temps après je suis arrivé dans le Maine, j’ai crée une série s’appelle des « Karaokes », des chansons folks avec vidéo qui incluent Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Raw Honey, et moi-même. J’ai enregistré chaque chanson, assez vite, et l’écouté en train de chanter silencieusement devant mon MacBook. J’aimais bien cette forme et j’en ferais peut-être d’autres. Une des façons en commun entre les enregistrements: un sac de riz pour des percussions simples.

    English:

    Not long after I arrived in Maine, I created a series called “Karaokes,” folk songs with video that include Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Raw Honey, and myself. I recorded each song, fairly quickly, and listened to it while singing silently in front of my MacBook. I liked this form and maybe I’ll make some others. Of the aspects in common between the recordings: a bag of rice for simple percussion.

  • Essai: “I gripped it under my sweat”

    Alex Silver, Scarborough, Maine, November 25, 2024

    This recording actually comes from the discard folder. I wanted to get started with “essais,” or attempts, but when I went back to find something I had in mind, I found this better. I understand why I’d remembered the other: it has clearer dynamics, deft(er) movement between phrases, ties together more rationally. In my notes, I’d written that the words had a strong narrative pull. I didn’t feel that tonight.

    Maybe I’m just tender today, but what appeals to me is the softness of the lyrics and the frail run in the singing at the end. I sang:

    I slipped it
    Like a note in your pocket
    I gripped it
    Under my sweat

    And I meant it
    And I meant it
    And I m-ea-nt it
    Until I bent

    I’m not ready to lay out my goals for these improvisations, but I will when I’m feeling more analytical. I’ll simply say that I’m contending with having many phrases, rhythms, hand-movements—in other words, sonic meanings—at my disposal, but fewer words to make emerge. The singing feels the most tenuous and even sometimes dull. Words are so bound to communicative meaning and more difficult to make fit.

  • Singing Neil Young’s “Razor Love” in a cloistered apartment in Maine

    When I first moved to Maine, it was the tail-end of the pandemic, January 2021, and the little bedroom I made inside an otherwise disheveled apartment was a strange refuge. I only lived there 8 months, but there was a certain peace to the room and it was possible to cross a lot of mental distance in the 10×10 space. I’d go from the room to the kitchen, to the porch to the neighborhoods, and that little corridor of movement was where a lot of things started, including l-o-v-e.

    As spring neared, I was recording things very offhand, just spurts of “feeling like it,” but they were turning out well. I’d add slide guitar accompaniment, drop a bag of white rice on the table for percussion, and a day later lip-sync and record my face on the laptop. These mini-projects felt more me than previous visuals, and more expressive than I’d felt with traditional songs in quite a while. I shared them on social media, especially in anticipation of releasing Raw Honey’s Riverbed album (see “Attic Stairs.“)

    I captioned them “Saturday night karaoke” or similar, so now I’m calling it a karaoke series. Here’s another one going up on the Big Web today.

  • 2024 in-person: Show posters from a busy Chico States year

    2024 was a busy year for Chico States, and a fun one. It felt like rather than practice the steps of a dance, we mostly just danced. To celebrate that momentum, I thought I’d archive show posters I can find from the past twelve months.

    This year was also the first that I played an improvisational set of the No Guide: Sketches sort. As Joe put it: “We were like, Alex is sending it in this bar.” What a compliment! (Stay tuned for a future article questioning why concerts are also parties…). Something started cracking open in doing that show that gave me a sense of safety/abandon for publicly creating things like this blog.

    Essentially, the Hi-Fidelity “set” used the style of context-based music I’ve worked the hardest on for over 10 years. Yet it was still a precarious experiment. I hand-wrote a subset of lyrics that have continually resurfaced over that time, in an indiscriminate scroll, and handed them out to the audience. The idea (which comes from teaching children) was to pre-expose the audience to the material so that words meant more when they heard them sung.

    In 2025, we’re hoping to do a tour and who knows what summer will bring. Joe et al. are busy finishing up the new Chico States record, which I believe I’m allowed to say will be called I Saw A Galloping Horse Cover No Ground. Stay tuned for a release show. Happy New Year!