Buscar:ross j farrar

Cleaning Out The Empty Administration Building ist Ross Farrars neuestes Werk aus rohem, gesprochenem Wort und experimentellem Sounddesign, hier präsentiert unter dem Namen R.J.F.. Der Frontmann der amerikanischen Bands Ceremony und SPICE begann dieses Soloprojekt zunächst als persönliche Herausforderung: Songs von Grund auf selbst zu schreiben, sich mit Instrumenten vertraut zu machen und dabei zugleich sein Unterbewusstsein freizulegen. Dabei ging es weniger um musikalische Virtuosität als um Verletzlichkeit - darum, etwas Ehrliches aus einem ungeschützten, unbearbeiteten, unpolierten Moment zu ziehen, kompromisslos amateurhaft und rein.Diese Sammlung zeigt Farrar im offenen, poetischen Dialog: mit Drumloops und gefundenen Klängen, durchbrochen von Gitarren, Bass und Tasteninstrumenten. Nach über zwanzig Jahren in der vertrauten wie chaotischen Welt von Band-Kollaborationen, legt Farrar all das ab - als Experiment. Das Ergebnis ist unverwechselbar und bewegend.Farrars Punk-Pathos ist in Spuren vorhanden, doch seine deutlichsten Einflüsse stammen von repetitiven Musikformen: Drone, No-Wave, Avant-Jazz und darüber hinaus. Seine nüchternen Texte erinnern an Lou Reed, Rowland S. Howard und andere große Exzentriker. Farrars Texte kreisen um Liebe, Sucht, Vaterschaft und das Leben in der heutigen Welt. ,Ich wollte Bilder schaffen, die die Menschen klar vor sich sehen können", sagt er. Farrar unterrichtete früher Schreiben und Literatur - und wendet hier ein einfaches Prinzip an, das er auch seinen Schülern mitgab: Nicht zu viel nachdenken. ,Ich habe mir einfach gesagt: Diese Songs sollen Spaß machen. Sie sollen nicht stressig sein. Zwei, drei Takes aufnehmen und dann gut ist. Nicht über jedes Geräusch den Kopf zerbrechen. Mach einfach das, was natürlich aus dir herauskommt - und wenn es sich gut anfühlt, dann nimm es."Aus hunderten freier Songs, die Farrar in den letzten Jahren mit geliehenem Equipment aufgenommen hat, kristallisierte sich dieses Album langsam heraus. ,Es kam einfach immer wieder."Der Ton von Cleaning scheint die Zeit zu verbiegen, versetzt die Hörer in eine Art Gang voller Songs, bei denen jede Tür in einen neuen Raum führt - Räume, die oft auf unheimliche Weise vertraut wirken. Der gurgelnde Bass des Openers ,Advance" taucht auch in anderen Stücken wieder auf, etwa im gespenstischen ,Ovidian", benannt nach Ovids Metamorphosen, in dem Farrar über das Wunder der Veränderung sinniert - begleitet von fernen Glockenklängen. Instrumentalstücke wie ,Gravity Hill" - ein Flattern aus Synth-Brummen und statischem Rauschen - oder ,Frogs", mit Saiteninstrumenten und perkussivem Topfschlagen, wirken wie tranceartige Zwischenspiele und verstärken die Wirkung der Texte drumherum.,Exile" blickt zurück auf Verluste, die sich nicht mehr reparieren lassen: ,So much of your heart caught in my exile", singt Farrar mit sanfter Resignation - über einer einsamen Klaviermelodie und schlingernden Gitarrenakkorden. Es ist das strukturierteste Stück der Sammlung und erinnert daran, dass Farrar ein Gespür für melodische Linien besitzt.Das Album endet mit ,Traveling Light From Afar", deutlich schneller als alle vorherigen Songs. Hier, über einem stoischen Motorik-Beat, spricht Farrar das zentrale Thema des Projekts direkt an:,I've been so young in my old age / Selfish & self-pitying / But that's just narcissism - man."Genau dieser Balanceakt - zwischen schonungsloser Selbstbefragung und der Klarheit, die mit dem Älterwerden kommt - schafft Raum für Entwicklung. Farrar leert das Gebäude - Zeile für Zeile.

Cleaning Out The Empty Administration Building ist Ross Farrars neuestes Werk aus rohem, gesprochenem Wort und experimentellem Sounddesign, hier präsentiert unter dem Namen R.J.F.. Der Frontmann der amerikanischen Bands Ceremony und SPICE begann dieses Soloprojekt zunächst als persönliche Herausforderung: Songs von Grund auf selbst zu schreiben, sich mit Instrumenten vertraut zu machen und dabei zugleich sein Unterbewusstsein freizulegen. Dabei ging es weniger um musikalische Virtuosität als um Verletzlichkeit - darum, etwas Ehrliches aus einem ungeschützten, unbearbeiteten, unpolierten Moment zu ziehen, kompromisslos amateurhaft und rein.Diese Sammlung zeigt Farrar im offenen, poetischen Dialog: mit Drumloops und gefundenen Klängen, durchbrochen von Gitarren, Bass und Tasteninstrumenten. Nach über zwanzig Jahren in der vertrauten wie chaotischen Welt von Band-Kollaborationen, legt Farrar all das ab - als Experiment. Das Ergebnis ist unverwechselbar und bewegend.Farrars Punk-Pathos ist in Spuren vorhanden, doch seine deutlichsten Einflüsse stammen von repetitiven Musikformen: Drone, No-Wave, Avant-Jazz und darüber hinaus. Seine nüchternen Texte erinnern an Lou Reed, Rowland S. Howard und andere große Exzentriker. Farrars Texte kreisen um Liebe, Sucht, Vaterschaft und das Leben in der heutigen Welt. ,Ich wollte Bilder schaffen, die die Menschen klar vor sich sehen können", sagt er. Farrar unterrichtete früher Schreiben und Literatur - und wendet hier ein einfaches Prinzip an, das er auch seinen Schülern mitgab: Nicht zu viel nachdenken. ,Ich habe mir einfach gesagt: Diese Songs sollen Spaß machen. Sie sollen nicht stressig sein. Zwei, drei Takes aufnehmen und dann gut ist. Nicht über jedes Geräusch den Kopf zerbrechen. Mach einfach das, was natürlich aus dir herauskommt - und wenn es sich gut anfühlt, dann nimm es."Aus hunderten freier Songs, die Farrar in den letzten Jahren mit geliehenem Equipment aufgenommen hat, kristallisierte sich dieses Album langsam heraus. ,Es kam einfach immer wieder."Der Ton von Cleaning scheint die Zeit zu verbiegen, versetzt die Hörer in eine Art Gang voller Songs, bei denen jede Tür in einen neuen Raum führt - Räume, die oft auf unheimliche Weise vertraut wirken. Der gurgelnde Bass des Openers ,Advance" taucht auch in anderen Stücken wieder auf, etwa im gespenstischen ,Ovidian", benannt nach Ovids Metamorphosen, in dem Farrar über das Wunder der Veränderung sinniert - begleitet von fernen Glockenklängen. Instrumentalstücke wie ,Gravity Hill" - ein Flattern aus Synth-Brummen und statischem Rauschen - oder ,Frogs", mit Saiteninstrumenten und perkussivem Topfschlagen, wirken wie tranceartige Zwischenspiele und verstärken die Wirkung der Texte drumherum.,Exile" blickt zurück auf Verluste, die sich nicht mehr reparieren lassen: ,So much of your heart caught in my exile", singt Farrar mit sanfter Resignation - über einer einsamen Klaviermelodie und schlingernden Gitarrenakkorden. Es ist das strukturierteste Stück der Sammlung und erinnert daran, dass Farrar ein Gespür für melodische Linien besitzt.Das Album endet mit ,Traveling Light From Afar", deutlich schneller als alle vorherigen Songs. Hier, über einem stoischen Motorik-Beat, spricht Farrar das zentrale Thema des Projekts direkt an:,I've been so young in my old age / Selfish & self-pitying / But that's just narcissism - man."Genau dieser Balanceakt - zwischen schonungsloser Selbstbefragung und der Klarheit, die mit dem Älterwerden kommt - schafft Raum für Entwicklung. Farrar leert das Gebäude - Zeile für Zeile.

“Do you still believe it?” John Ross asks that question after journeying through the wreckage. The genesis of Dulling The Horns goes back to late 2022, when Ross began workshopping new material during soundcheck on the ILYSM tour. Last summer, Wild Pink decamped to western Massachusetts to reunite with engineer Justin Pizzoferrato. Ross decided to record Dulling The Horns live in the room, in an effort to capture Wild Pink’s onstage style — rawer, grainier. Gone are the glimmering atmospherics and studio affectations of recent Wild Pink outings. Instead, Ross’ voice is haggard against the humid distortion coating every song. “I wanted to make economical songs,” Ross explains. “Music that is very much at its core three or four people rocking.” If before, Wild Pink took notes from Springsteen and Petty, they’ve now entered their Crazy Horse era. On Dulling The Horns, you can hear him rediscovering the fire in real time. Tropes discarded along the roadside, songs pulled from the formative DNA of rock music, all filtered through years of messy fog. “There is no answer to these problems,” Ross says, having eventually yielded. But as far Dulling The Horns is concerned, there’s at least one path forward: Burn it all away, and keep moving. The album was mixed by Alex Farrar in Asheville NC, mastered by Greg Obis in Chicago, IL and is out in October on Fire Talk.

“Do you still believe it?” John Ross asks that question after journeying through the wreckage. The genesis of Dulling The Horns goes back to late 2022, when Ross began workshopping new material during soundcheck on the ILYSM tour. Last summer, Wild Pink decamped to western Massachusetts to reunite with engineer Justin Pizzoferrato. Ross decided to record Dulling The Horns live in the room, in an effort to capture Wild Pink’s onstage style — rawer, grainier. Gone are the glimmering atmospherics and studio affectations of recent Wild Pink outings. Instead, Ross’ voice is haggard against the humid distortion coating every song. “I wanted to make economical songs,” Ross explains. “Music that is very much at its core three or four people rocking.” If before, Wild Pink took notes from Springsteen and Petty, they’ve now entered their Crazy Horse era. On Dulling The Horns, you can hear him rediscovering the fire in real time. Tropes discarded along the roadside, songs pulled from the formative DNA of rock music, all filtered through years of messy fog. “There is no answer to these problems,” Ross says, having eventually yielded. But as far Dulling The Horns is concerned, there’s at least one path forward: Burn it all away, and keep moving. The album was mixed by Alex Farrar in Asheville NC, mastered by Greg Obis in Chicago, IL and is out in October on Fire Talk.

“Do you still believe it?” John Ross asks that question after journeying through the wreckage. The genesis of Dulling The Horns goes back to late 2022, when Ross began workshopping new material during soundcheck on the ILYSM tour. Last summer, Wild Pink decamped to western Massachusetts to reunite with engineer Justin Pizzoferrato. Ross decided to record Dulling The Horns live in the room, in an effort to capture Wild Pink’s onstage style — rawer, grainier. Gone are the glimmering atmospherics and studio affectations of recent Wild Pink outings. Instead, Ross’ voice is haggard against the humid distortion coating every song. “I wanted to make economical songs,” Ross explains. “Music that is very much at its core three or four people rocking.” If before, Wild Pink took notes from Springsteen and Petty, they’ve now entered their Crazy Horse era. On Dulling The Horns, you can hear him rediscovering the fire in real time. Tropes discarded along the roadside, songs pulled from the formative DNA of rock music, all filtered through years of messy fog. “There is no answer to these problems,” Ross says, having eventually yielded. But as far Dulling The Horns is concerned, there’s at least one path forward: Burn it all away, and keep moving. The album was mixed by Alex Farrar in Asheville NC, mastered by Greg Obis in Chicago, IL and is out in October on Fire Talk.

As a collective thought, Spice's Self-Titled debut album offers a deliberate isolation of pain as interpreted through different vehicles. Less than 30-minutes in length, the record diverts from a singular mood, tempo, or delivery, instead focusing on orchestrating emotional drain as single impulses_fast, slow, driving, simple, and layered_that coalesce in their machinations. At its core, Spice's SelfTitled album is wired together by brawny and brittle guitars, lock-groove rhythms, and vocals announce each moment and mood. Formed in 2018 and based across California, each members' roots are in the North Bay of San Francisco. Comprised of Ross Farrar (vocals) and Jake Casarotti (drums), both of Ceremony, along with Cody Sullivan (bass), Ian Simpson (guitar), and Victoria Skudlarek (violin), Spice's sound pulls from the sense of melody and drive inherent to Bay Area pedigree, peppered with modernity and awash with an anthemic haze. The hook is in the connection as much as melody, with each song building its inner narrative and exploration of affliction. Traversing guitar-driven indie-pop and call-to-action impulse, Spice balances their urgency by interspersing violin melodies and layers, creating depth without oversaturating the heart of each song. Building complexity with laser focus, Spice shares the authoritative drive of Jawbreaker, J Church, The Horrors, and Fugazi, set in their own world of unrest. The treatment of each song is a statement that informs the whole - anecdotes that can bleed slowly or swirl quickly. In a sense, the Self-Titled album itself is an entire song, with each track becoming the verses, choruses, and interludes that narrate its intent. Ending with the final track they workshopped for the album titled "I Don't Wanna Die in New York," the album ends with a punch before winding back into meditation. Honed over late nights at Panda Studios in Fremont, California with producer Sam Pura (Basement, The Story So Far, Self Defense Family), Spice spent hours tweaking it until it became a little world formed by what they refer to as "the power of groupthink." Sprinkled with field recordings_audio snapshots from the member's every-day-lives_the record offers an intimate twist that builds on its theme of a single thread that connects everything with continuity, making it a single organism with as many depths as questions.

As a collective thought, Spice's Self-Titled debut album offers a deliberate isolation of pain as interpreted through different vehicles. Less than 30-minutes in length, the record diverts from a singular mood, tempo, or delivery, instead focusing on orchestrating emotional drain as single impulses_fast, slow, driving, simple, and layered_that coalesce in their machinations. At its core, Spice's SelfTitled album is wired together by brawny and brittle guitars, lock-groove rhythms, and vocals announce each moment and mood. Formed in 2018 and based across California, each members' roots are in the North Bay of San Francisco. Comprised of Ross Farrar (vocals) and Jake Casarotti (drums), both of Ceremony, along with Cody Sullivan (bass), Ian Simpson (guitar), and Victoria Skudlarek (violin), Spice's sound pulls from the sense of melody and drive inherent to Bay Area pedigree, peppered with modernity and awash with an anthemic haze. The hook is in the connection as much as melody, with each song building its inner narrative and exploration of affliction. Traversing guitar-driven indie-pop and call-to-action impulse, Spice balances their urgency by interspersing violin melodies and layers, creating depth without oversaturating the heart of each song. Building complexity with laser focus, Spice shares the authoritative drive of Jawbreaker, J Church, The Horrors, and Fugazi, set in their own world of unrest. The treatment of each song is a statement that informs the whole - anecdotes that can bleed slowly or swirl quickly. In a sense, the Self-Titled album itself is an entire song, with each track becoming the verses, choruses, and interludes that narrate its intent. Ending with the final track they workshopped for the album titled "I Don't Wanna Die in New York," the album ends with a punch before winding back into meditation. Honed over late nights at Panda Studios in Fremont, California with producer Sam Pura (Basement, The Story So Far, Self Defense Family), Spice spent hours tweaking it until it became a little world formed by what they refer to as "the power of groupthink." Sprinkled with field recordings_audio snapshots from the member's every-day-lives_the record offers an intimate twist that builds on its theme of a single thread that connects everything with continuity, making it a single organism with as many depths as questions.

The second LP by California rock n roll unit SPICE expands their palette of damaged anthems and addiction poetics with a more bristling, visceral sound, distilled from years in the trenches of bands, break-ups, and breakdowns. Singer Ross Farrar explains their chemistry succinctly: "We all got in a room and this is what came out." Viv is named for a precursor project of bassist Cody Sullivan and violinist Victoria Skudlarek, but also alludes to broader notions of vividness, sonic, visual, and otherwise. Engineered by Jack Shirley and mixed/mastered by Sam Pura in Oakland, the mix achieves that rare balance of every element being elevated but distinct, with voices, strings, and drums each given space to blaze parallel paths. Opener "Recovery" captures SPICE at their stormy, weathered best, booming drums and East Bay riffs skidding out in a rockslide of rapture, regret, and bruised melody ("You sacrifice perfect days to laugh through the night / you have to get out of bed / and it's hard / and it's hard / it's so hard to admit"), peaking in Ian Simpson's poignant single-note vibrato guitar solo; Farrar agrees: "The guitar says what we cannot." Other tracks embrace the group's shredded pop potential ("Any Day Now," "Dining Out," "Live Scene") and their speedway ripper mode ("Threnody"), with detours into oblique instrumentals ("Melody Drive") and orchestral balladeering ("Ashes In The Birdbath"). But what unites and ignites these songs across different energies and arrangements is their specific sense of emotion. Rawness refined into reckonings, approaching truth, born of cold mornings, bad luck, and too many wrong turns. Waking up where you're not supposed to be, living a life you don't recognize. The album ends with no end to its narrative, still fighting, still slipping. Farrar calls "Climbing Down The Ladder" a "relapse song - telling people you're okay but you're still fucking up." Heartbeat drums march under heartbroken guitars in an elegant downward spiral of defeat, delusion, and desperate hope, dreamed more than believed: "I said it was the last time / but I was up so high / 100 miles / 1000 miles / no me in sight / I saw into the next life / I wasn't dead / I felt so vivid in the next life."

The second LP by California rock n roll unit SPICE expands their palette of damaged anthems and addiction poetics with a more bristling, visceral sound, distilled from years in the trenches of bands, break-ups, and breakdowns. Singer Ross Farrar explains their chemistry succinctly: "We all got in a room and this is what came out." Viv is named for a precursor project of bassist Cody Sullivan and violinist Victoria Skudlarek, but also alludes to broader notions of vividness, sonic, visual, and otherwise. Engineered by Jack Shirley and mixed/mastered by Sam Pura in Oakland, the mix achieves that rare balance of every element being elevated but distinct, with voices, strings, and drums each given space to blaze parallel paths. Opener "Recovery" captures SPICE at their stormy, weathered best, booming drums and East Bay riffs skidding out in a rockslide of rapture, regret, and bruised melody ("You sacrifice perfect days to laugh through the night / you have to get out of bed / and it's hard / and it's hard / it's so hard to admit"), peaking in Ian Simpson's poignant single-note vibrato guitar solo; Farrar agrees: "The guitar says what we cannot." Other tracks embrace the group's shredded pop potential ("Any Day Now," "Dining Out," "Live Scene") and their speedway ripper mode ("Threnody"), with detours into oblique instrumentals ("Melody Drive") and orchestral balladeering ("Ashes In The Birdbath"). But what unites and ignites these songs across different energies and arrangements is their specific sense of emotion. Rawness refined into reckonings, approaching truth, born of cold mornings, bad luck, and too many wrong turns. Waking up where you're not supposed to be, living a life you don't recognize. The album ends with no end to its narrative, still fighting, still slipping. Farrar calls "Climbing Down The Ladder" a "relapse song - telling people you're okay but you're still fucking up." Heartbeat drums march under heartbroken guitars in an elegant downward spiral of defeat, delusion, and desperate hope, dreamed more than believed: "I said it was the last time / but I was up so high / 100 miles / 1000 miles / no me in sight / I saw into the next life / I wasn't dead / I felt so vivid in the next life."