Wayne Flask: The Music Papers

The Bad Seed - 06

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 18:06:00 +0000

Mistletoe and whine. Not-so-poignant letter to Santa.

Tales from Troubled Truths

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 17:57:00 +0000

Coffee with No Bling Show's Jon Mallia and the soundtrack to our own jilted generation.

The Bad Seed - 05

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 10:45:00 +0000

The Charlene Victoria Mula phenomenon and abject mediocrity in local TV stations. Sit back.

The Great Beyond

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 10:40:00 +0000

The old friend, the big visionary. Interview with Niki Gravino, Manic October 2009.

The Bad Seed - 04

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 12:28:00 +0000

Stardom goes sour, more so here in Malta. Please, save the critics' category. Read my musings here.

Rock Werchter, Baby

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 12:24:00 +0000

Dear diary, we travelled, sweated, ate junk and got inches close to our idols. Rock Werchter 2009 through my dreamy eyes: read it here.

The Bad Seed - 03

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 22:22:00 +0000

Bad Seed takes a walk down Therapy? lane.

The Mother Tongue and the Thorn in its Side

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 22:18:00 +0000

Music, xenophobia, village life, and gum injections in this long interview with Brikkuni. More tea, vicar?

The Bad Seed - 02

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 18:49:00 +0000

In the second scribble (Manic Magazine, April 2009) the Eurosong festival and the Kate Moss inspired army of bloggers come under scrutiny.

The Rifffs Interview

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 18:02:00 +0000

The Rifffs interviewed for Manic! Magazine, Sunday 8th February 2009.

The Bad Seed - 01

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 17:57:00 +0000

My new bi-monthly column on Manic! magazine, The Bad Seed (tribute to Nick Cave) debuts with a take on the 2008 Music Awards.

Forget Your Certainties

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Fri, 24 Oct 2008 08:48:00 +0000

The short version of the interview with the indomitable Niki Gravino (Maltanow, 12th October) can be digested here.

We should have the long version up soon too.

More tea, vicar?

Hannibal's Children

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 09:55:00 +0000

Rough Trade goes African. Read about it here.

Story of a Charming Man

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 18:31:00 +0000

The third feature from the Maltanow's Rough Trade Series brings you DJ Bob Pisani, his music, overcoats and cartoons. (10 August 2008).

Dig it here.

Fortunes Untold

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 21:18:00 +0000

The second feature from the Maltanow's Rough Trade Series brings you Ira Losco and a pack of tarot cards. (13 July 2008).

Dig it here.

Renegades of Plonk

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 17:13:00 +0000

The first feature from the Maltanow's Rough Trade Series, featuring Mathematikal (15 June 2008).

Read it here.

Happy Birthday Winter Moods

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Sat, 13 Oct 2007 11:06:00 +0000

Happy Birthday Winter Moods

Ivan Grech shares anecdotes and secrets of 20 years of Winter Moods with Wayne Flask

The grey hairs have almost run riot, although, admittedly, the dreaded process of hair loss has never threatened Ivan Grech. Nor has his age. His burly, 1m90 figure scoffs the myth of the skinny modern age rockstar; his eyes ooze confidence and his voice, borne with the stress of four studio albums and twenty years of Winter Moods, sounds as reassuring as ever.

That same voice is one of Winter Moods’ unique trademarks, starring from their early ‘Marillion’ years to the open spaces of Morning Ale, then to the arty class of Butterfly House and, finally, to the sentimental overtones of Ordinary Men.

By and large, twenty years have gone by and Winter Moods’ heart is still firmly rooted in the urbane ambience of the Cottonera that raised them and shaped their lives. Twenty years on, they are still doing what they like most, and once the tools of the trade have evolved, their sound has become clearer, with enough degrees of verve to leave an indelible effect on their music.

* * *

It is uncharacteristically sunny in Gozo, considering that Winter Moods have the mysterious power of the rainmaker that has accompanied them wherever they went. It’s Sunday morning and I am quietly penning my questions on the rocky hills to the right of Xlendi bay. My hands smell of salt. There is hardly a noise, hardly a movement. Soon enough, though, I have to be on my way to meet them: PR at 1 will see them have an informal lunch with radio competition winners.

The WM entourage has woken up to a slow morning. There are a few complaints about headaches, eyes are a bit heavy and throats are slightly sore. That night, at the XS Club, the best Winter Moods show in a long time was a fitting tribute to their twentieth anniversary. Seamless, from start to finish, they carried the audience with them through their meandering journey in history and emotions, with a new refined set that has brought them a few more joys.

I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that most of the thousand or so who crowded XS got goosebumps during their rousing performance, a show that included their everlasting Sarah and an unplugged version of Xemx among the highlights. It was, of course, an experiment that worked and, undoubtedly, one of the most convincing Winter Moods of the last few years.

All this talk of years prompts me to point out to Ivan that no one is getting any younger.

“Musically we are definitely still very young, and I feel the same about myself. I’m still a bit of a kid within, I’m always fooling around, and so are the others,” says Ivan. “Since we started recording thirteen years ago we’ve matured a lot, and we’ve done so together. Although we’ve had lineup changes, I think the main factor that has kept us together was our friendship.”

Interesting. Is their friendship so personal, enough to help out, say, with the occasional flat tyre?

“Yes, very much so. Our families are good friends with each other. We’re like brothers. Up until a few years ago I used to meet the guys every single day and to this day I see them more often than my relatives. Our partners are very supportive also. They knew that music was an important part of our lives and that we couldn’t live without it. I mean, it’s not easy, considering that Joseph has three children, and we really admire him because he manages to find time for everything.”

Twenty years ago it was a completely different story than today. Ivan is pleased to take a quick jog down memory lane to recount the early days of Winter Moods when their affections for prog-rock took up most of their time.

He grew up in a family of music connoisseurs. “My brother Alex was in the band club, Norman was a fan of Genesis, Asia, Pink Floyd, Joven was into Led Zeppelin, Queen and Deep Purple, and my sisters Josette and Edmea had other tastes altogether. My mother, too, made sure to keep me in touch with music. In the midst of all this ‘cocktail’ I was exposed to a number of different styles – and Winter Moods was a balance between the creative and the commercial.”

“The first Winter Moods was Joe and Steve [Caruana Smith]. Etienne [Robinich] was a sound technician at first and the singer was a guy called Jesmond Attard. This is around the end of 1986. They had already played in Maltasajf of 1984 as Shades of Darkness, and they also used to play the occasional wedding.” (Steve once had the misfortune of fainting during a reception and collapsed onto the drums). “Etienne eventually took over the keyboards from Arthur Stanicic, with whom I had never got on really well.”

The first Winter Moods also included James Vella on drums, and the band would record their eponymous debut album in 1995, shortly before the arrival of Melvin Caruana on guitars.

The six piece remained unaltered until November last year, when Steve left the band for personal reasons. “The first repercussion was personal, we loved Steve and we’ve always had a great time with him. The second repercussion was on the music. The songs on the album were recorded with two guitarists and we had to find a way of playing them live with only one. We had to resort to technology and the use of loops. Melvin worked really hard to adapt but I never doubted he would do an excellent job. Our live act sounds raw in comparison, and we’ve become tighter as a whole even though we lost out on a great guitarist.”

“We tried to convince Steve to stay on but he simply had no time. He couldn’t attend rehearsals and that for us was the biggest setback. He had lost a lot of commitment to the band, and he was getting a bit lazy too. I’m sorry he’s no longer with us because he was a great, great guy to have on board. I am thinking of having him back for a couple of songs at the next gig.”

And, as we talk of lineup changes, here’s the little-known story of another, particular birthday party.

* * *

Two years ago, John Bundy’s A3FM was still broadcasting strong from the 101.8FM frequency. Winter Moods were the main act of the first birthday party.

A few hours before the show, the band is getting ready at Etienne’s apartment. The host is busy preparing our Spaghetti Bolognese. There is something missing though, a strange lack of buzz in the air. Etienne chides Steve again for smoking in the kitchen, but that, from the whole evening, is the loudest note he will strike.

After the show the atmosphere is more relaxed. Noise levels are much louder, some booze is flowing, and in a corner of the Blues Room Ivan is whispering in Joe’s ear: You can’t leave this band. This is what you’ve started, you can’t go now that you’ve reached everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And Joe understood perfectly what those words meant.

“At one point Joseph was going to quit altogether. If he left it would have been a big blow for me. He’s our devil’s advocate. He questions a lot – he questions the band in a constructive manner. He always pushes the limit, and what we think is the top is never enough for him. Ultimately the one that keeps us all together. It has been like that since we were younger. I have a very special relationship with him.”

Ivan also revealed that around the same time James was about to leave the band too, and that replacements were already lined up. They were never called for the first rehearsal.

* * *

Soft keyboard and guitar noises are arriving from the stage of the XS Club. We are halfway through the show, there is an eerie hush in the venue. The interlude slowly fades into the introduction to Marigold, probably the shiniest gem in Ordinary Men with its elaborate, sleek, heart-rending moments, as close to perfection as they could get. A thousand voices sang along, word by word, enchanted.

The pressures and jolts of being a class act are long forgotten now. They are shaping their intricate tapestry, weaving emotions and notes. Ivan is at one with the crowd, and so are the usually detached Melvin and Joe. “I started to attach myself to Gozo after the death of my father, who hailed from Ghajnsielem. There’s this sort of bond with the Gozitans, and some will remember the great show we’ve had over here on New Year’s Eve.”

Thankfully, they have elaborated on their set, becoming more involved with their audience as a whole, adding the acoustic set and taking a few hints from the occasional DVD. Luckily, it doesn’t stop there, as fans will be able to catch the band at the Valletta Waterfront on the 30^th April.

Ivan describes it as ‘The Big One’. “It will be great. Everything will be set up the way we like it, and many people who have missed us at nightclubs will be able to see one of our shows in a completely different setting. There will even be a ferry service from Cottonera to Valletta.”

* * *

Winter Moods have, fortunately, not resorted to the outmoded gimmick of the encore. The music is over. The lights have gone down. It’s three in the morning, and perhaps at their age they shouldn’t be up so late. But, thank God, they’re doing what they know best: ageing with grace.

Wayne Flask

April 2007

The Long Interview, Vol 2

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Sat, 13 Oct 2007 11:04:00 +0000

The Long Interview, Vol 2

Wayne Flask’s second long chat with Ray Mercieca and The Characters

It’s a quiet, uneventful Tuesday night. Last week, fireworks from the other side of Balluta rocked the buildings and set off scores of car alarms. Tonight, however, the low volume bluesy atmosphere of what is, ostensibly, a Steve Urpani playlist, is a more welcome company.

Steve knows what his guests would like for their second round of drinks. They are known faces around here, their voices familiar, their mannerisms easily recognisable. The telly is showing Arsenal play in the third round of the Champions League qualifying against Sparta Prague.

Ray Mercieca swivels on his tool, his trademark baseball cap pointing upwards towards the box. “What’s the score?”

“One-nil.”

“Nah… Walcott? I don’t like Walcott. He’s overrated…”

Everybody has opinions. Ray Mercieca is certainly not the man to hide them behind his little finger, and he will never stop from telling you precisely what he thinks. You ask him the most basic of questions and he’ll give you the most detailed of replies, forgetting nothing, leaving no stone unturned. His charisma, English accent and occasional ‘f’ word, make him one of my favourite interviewees. And, when he talks, you listen, and find it very hard to look away from the quasi-idealistic gleam that lights his eyes.

Gino Micallef and Antoine Griscti, Gaggu for friends, are the other two fifths of The Characters sipping their whiskies at Muddy Waters. After all this time, I’m sitting with the band I thought I’d never see again, as if it were too good to be true.

We’re generations apart, I’m still a fan, they are still pumping energy into their music. Catch one of their concerts, anywhere, and you’ll see that a long hibernation – pause, as they will say – hasn’t got any rust settling into their joints.

Muddy Waters was the place where Steve Urpani set the ball rolling again, after a long time. Ray had just reunited the Rifffs after releasing some of his own solo material.

“With the Rifffs it happened because Rayvin was in Malta at the time, so we… took the opportunity. The Characters was a different story though. I was playing an acoustic set up there (nodding to the diminutive stage) and these two next to me… they conned me!” he laughs. “The magic, the energy, they were still there, after we played we knew we could still have it all.”

Sitting next to the singer, Gino Micallef is relishing the return of his bass swinging days. “We really enjoyed playing together that night. I think was the right time to get together again and start working on bringing The Characters back.”

A slight hangover is in the air, but Ray’s freewheel is working alright. He explains why this long awaited reunion, in 2007, was so simple. And he had the right motives, too.

“I was writing music that was somehow Characters’ music, because that vision was always there. To be honest, I was not at all happy with all the s**t that was going on in Malta, and a lot of people were sitting inside at as well. So I said as long as we have something to say, we try and do it, and Gaggu made it very clear that we don’t play anything unless it is of pure quality and not too commercial, and we all felt the same way.”

“Me, personally, whatever I was seeing [in the local scene] was lazy, no excitement, it was just as if too many people were listening to an album and copying it, making it their own.”

Would you dare accuse someone like Ray of being old, of trying to resurrect a myth that should have been left alone?

“It wasn’t time to move on, no. At the gigs I could see all the energy in the audience and I hadn’t seen something like that for years. But at the end of the day The Characters have always been about that, and I’m sure a lot of people wanted to see us [play live] again, even the old songs. Maybe they were a bit shell-shocked when they heard the new songs, but we believe the music is good fun.”

With Adam Bonello on guitars and Antoine Faure on keyboards to complete the lineup, they set on writing new music, releasing So Alive in what was a relatively busy summer. A song that embodies their spirit, the Characters magic that never really vanished, opening with trademark melodic guitars and Ray’s You’ve got to say what you want. Not quite in the mould of their older classics, though, the new Characters have polished themselves a bit more. Sign of their ageing nicely, perhaps?

Says Gino: “After a few rehearsals we already had the new songs sorted. It’s such fun, it’s like we never stopped. I mean, we’ve played with other musicians and bands, but being onstage as The Characters – it’s special!”

“We were perhaps a bit more ear friendly then, now we are back in a different manner, with a bit more vengeance in our music,” says Gaggu.

“So Alive is a bit similar to what we were doing before we stopped. We still have that thing about us, but the next single will be completely different. Just wait and see that…” says Ray. Should I bet?

I caught The Characters’ for the first time after their reunion at Valletta, where they played as a supporting act for The Wailers. They played with renewed vigour, probably just having some serious fun, surprising some of the audience with the way their classics were sounding.

“We never decided to re-arrange the old songs, I’d say it just happened. Probably it’s the way we’re playing nowadays, or else we must have forgotten what we were playing and we just thought this should be the right way. You can play those songs in any way, and people would still want to hear them, so, why not?”

“I mean, I’m having a lot of fun playing, Ray is writing some fantastic music like he’s never done before. It’s like we’ve found the right groove,” enthuses Gino.

Ask them what their aims are, when they intend to release so and so, what they are planning long-term, and Ray will cut you short with a curt reply: “As long as we have something to say and we’re still relevant – and as long as we have the energy to live up to it.”

“We can push or force ourselves to do things, but we’d run the risk of becoming boring after a couple of years. It wasn’t that we were boring in the 1990’s, but at the time we had a few issues, personal ones especially, that we had to iron out. Those times are over now, and we’re back with better music, that is in a way easier to express in front of the audience,” says Gino.

“Gaggu was the one who always wanted the Characters to be a non-commercial band, and when I was doing music for the Rifffs I often asked myself, at the back of my mind, what Gaggu would say about it.”

After some years apart, they have matured on the personal level as well.

“Today we are five people who have a tremendous respect for each other, and we’ll have no clashes over our music, so it will have its freedom, we’ll let it decide and do the talking for us. That’s the greatest thing we’ve achieved. We discovered things about us musically and personally that we never knew before, maybe because we were younger.”

“We had a lot of pressure to do things. People expected a lot from us. And we also had a lot of clashes then, now we have learnt the lessons and we’ve become more patient with each other,” adds Gaggu.

Yet, added to all this, there was another incident that caused The Characters to split. Ray admits it was a particularly bad time for him.

“It took us long to get over Mike’s [Williams] death. Speaking for myself, it took me a hell of a lot of time. It wasn’t easy, he was a guy who was always part of the family.”

Steve reappears from behind the bar, this must be the third round. Or is it the fourth?

I ask them about the local music scene and the reception they got from the radios. Ray cannot really complain, but he does have some words to say about this:

“The media has become so commercialised, but that’s because they have to survive. At least they still play local acts, who maybe get more airplay if they’re sponsored by some big name or other. We don’t have anyone to sponsor us for airplay but we still get backing from various radio stations.”

“Unless you are within those certain guidelines which they have laid down, you don’t get played. [Turns to Gaggu] – You don’t agree with me?”

“Yes, of course I agree. If you are too awkward or alternative, without those catchy commercial tunes, you don’t get much of a chance to be heard on air. It’s about being clever enough to find a sound in between.”

“With the Rifffs it was hard to get airplay, and I think much of the interest came thanks to the audience and its SMS’s,” said Ray.

“Foreign DJ’s have come here and have no history of Malta and of what used to happen here 30 years ago when there was nothing here, only one national radio station and one TV station, and dictate what should or should not be played on local radio when they’re not locals themselves. They should not turn their noses up to anything local when they don’t understand how hard it is for local musicians to buy instruments and get in the recording studio… there’s no industry here, end of story.”

He’s not talking to me in my mother tongue, but I need not point this out to him.

“Maybe, yes, I am an English immigrant and you can tell me I’ve no right to say this. Well, I am half-Maltese, I’ve got Maltese blood. I haven’t come from Canada two years ago with my family in tow and decided that Malta should become Canadian, or Australian, or English or French. I don’t agree with that. You have to accept the culture of the Maltese, and respect the values of those who have been pioneering the scene, and give them courage, and faith, to try something new.”

His favourite up and coming band: Drive.

“They’re a bunch of great kids. I look forward to see them write and experiment more with their own music.”

“Then Subculture, it’s really great to have Woody and Bahri around, perhaps there should be a DJ who is ready to play their songs and that kind of music. The audience should have the final say whether they want to hear more of that or not, instead of DJ’s who play the same music 23 times a day. There should be a DJ who can watch out for new talent. I mean… they even tried to shut Brian Micallef down, you know, he’s our equivalent of John Peel, and if John Peel weren’t around there would be no U2 today…”

* * *

The second long interview in three years is over. We stop talking about the Characters now, resorting to more mundane topics.

“Are you okay, boy? You’re a bit too quiet,” says Ray, throwing an arm around my shoulder.

I smile, and point to the telly. Arsenal are finishing off Sparta, 3-0, and Walcott is the only Gunner to pick up a yellow.

Wayne Flask

September 2007

Telling Her Stories

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Sat, 16 Dec 2006 14:04:00 +0000

Howard turns away from the sound console in front of him, fidgets something quickly on his phone, and starts his briefing. “Ira will be on stage around 10.30 sharp…”

I look at him, almost amused.

“It’s either around 10.30, or 10.30 sharp,” I quip.

“You know what I mean…” he answers with a half-smile.

I nodded, not quite knowing whether my bearing should be the “around 10.30” or the “10.30 sharp”

* * *

The hush that descended onto the audience at Axis discotheque was surreal, almost unbearable. Low lights, a stage packed with instruments and strictly no electric guitars. The monitors above the stage turn again to that classy black and white movie caption, but there’s no subtitles to a 1920’s movie, just the title “Love Song.”

It’s not what you’d associate with Ira Losco or any of her pop-star, rock-chick, queen-of-the-stage routine; no, this is something more definite, concrete, almost ceremonious, yet never a tad theatrical.

What a treat. The next song of her unplugged set is her seamless, breathtaking version of one of The Cure’s masterpieces.

“However far away, I will always… love you…”.

You could almost feel her, harnessing tons of talent and attitude, craftily controlling her emotions, mesmerising those in front of her. Probably, Robert Smith would have loved it too, enough to make him forget about his bad hair days.

* * *

Accident Prone and Ira’s third album, Unmasked, are only distant cousins, but the blood link is still there. Accident Prone fired well-thought and gritty pop rock in all directions, a development on Someone Else, an Ira Losco without intricacies but with a lot of energy and flair to offer. Two albums that couldn’t have gone wrong, especially since they are what Ira does best, and, more importantly, what she enjoys doing most.

Unmasked, on the other hand, is an Ira Losco entrenched in thought, probably in a cold winter night when there’s nothing on TV and pen and paper are best mates. She’s not just turning away from everything she’s done before. She’s not shunning her pop life.

It’s more about taking a deep look at herself, looking for her more intimate side, and producing this unplugged album with the same polish, but with more introspect, than its two predecessors. Unmasked sways between Ira’s infatuations, the ones you’d find in the locked bottom drawer: Camden Town, The Cure and the underestimated 1980’s (she definitely sees nothing kitsch in Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time) and – herself, or rather, her pop Doppelganger.

This new ten track piece, forty minutes in all, includes unplugged versions of her own hit singles from the previous two albums. There is none of that sort of self reverence that shrouds most artists when they release an unplugged or live album, and there’s nothing to indicate pushiness from the record label either; it could just be Ira playing covers, but for all she’d care, this one has come straight out of her heart.

* * *

Her album is not even a week old, and she’s already engaged in the next one: the Bay Music Awards. Her schedule must be pretty tight, of late. A few days before the launch she was flat out finalising the invite lists for the big date. Energetic, and not the one to heap hassles onto unsuspecting lieutenants, Ira got down to the job. No inflated egos, no delusions of grandeur.

I find her in the Eden Arena, sitting quietly with other artists. Joseph Armani is fidgeting with his laptop; Ivan Filletti is sitting, hands crossed, next to a DJ from Bay, while Lincoln Spiteri of Screamdaisy is asking why me and my light blue tie look like we’ve just arrived from school.

“Don’t let him hassle you,” Terry Farrugia of Bay proffers Ira some fatherly advice.

Sitting in a secluded corner, next to the steps leading to the gym, it’s question time again. So, what’s hurry to record a new album, just a year after Accident Prone? Surely, it wasn’t the kind of album you’d forget easily in a short time, no?

“That was the same question I asked Howard [Keith, Ira’s manager] when he had suggested I should do an unplugged album. It was an especially good suggestion, however, and the positive reactions we got after the Katie Melua performances helped us quite a bit in taking this decision. Vocally I felt a lot more uninhibited – although I enjoy it a lot when I play with the band, but I believe my vocals can give more in an unplugged. Besides that, I was writing some songs for the next album and somehow these sounded better in their acoustic versions.”

Is it more like a pressure-drop EP than an album? Is Unmasked a stepping stone towards Ira’s next album, maybe a way to keep fans happy?

“I am quite aware that’s a dodgy thing to do. In Malta it’s easy to reach a saturation point within a short time. It’s like a double edged sword, because when you’re away too long you tend to lose momentum, and when you’re always in sight you risk overdoing it.”

“However, even though I love Accident Prone to bits, I am even more passionate about this album [Unmasked] because I feel I’ve matured that little bit more, especially in my song writing.”

She describes Unmasked as introvert, yet more mature. “It came at a time where I felt I had to write. I had a lot of emotions bottled up inside me and the songs that came out were really appropriate for this album. It is much more honest than the other albums.”

“I see it as a step forward. But don’t get me wrong – I enjoy playing with the band and it’s a thrill to hear the electric guitars. I like to move around the stage, doing a full-blast show. But performing unplugged is more of a challenge, it’s much harder.”

Work on compiling the songs started in September, but there were already a couple of tracks penned down for a third studio album.

“I had written one of these songs a year ago before Accident Prone came out. Howard was mixing the album, I had had enough because I was tired, and went to watch VH1. There was Top 40 Live Performances on and it kind of inspired me Arms of the Ones was written just after that.”

She’s not too different from the Ira I had spoken to when I interviewed her after Someone Else. Her gestures have stayed the same, so have her tones, her energy. But, looks aside, she has matured; vigorous like before, yet maybe brighter, older without taking the gloss off her performances. Has Katie Melua played a big role in this?

“Well – when we chose to cover a Cure song it didn’t cross my mind that Katie Melua had done so too [with Just Like Heaven in her 2005 album Piece by Piece]. We basically chose The Cure because Howard and I both like them a lot. But, yes, after watching Katie Melua live I can tell you she’s incredible and she’s amazing vocally. I’ve never heard anyone singing so in tune, it’s like she’s playback. She’s amazing.” Her eyes brighten up again when she describes the artist she supported on her tour.

“I admire her at how talented she is and at how honest she is. I am not infatuated with her but I appreciate her music a lot. No, I wouldn’t list her as someone I wrote music because of – though she did have an inspiration. We’re very different from each other too. She’s a totally different person to me, with a very different background and I don’t think that lifestyle really appeals to me.”

Tranquillity is about to be shattered. The mikes are being plugged inside the arena and a loud unwanted buzz interrupts Ira’s train of thought.

Oh yes – Howard. He’s a hard driver in the studio, nonetheless someone who has tons of faith in Ira and is ready to push her to a new limit each time. In that, artist and manager share the ambition of doing better each time.

“Howard sometimes manages to drive me to tears. It’s because everyone thinks they’ve done their best, but he always finds room for improvement. This album is part of my learning curve. I’m still very ambitious and ready to learn, and it encourages me to see where I can push myself.

Ira gets the call, it’s time to prepare the set for the BMA’s. Her not-so-easy pop star life knows no routine, no early hours, and no slacking.

* * *

It’s 1am. I have just finished my set at Axis. Ira’s work at her own party is not over yet. She is still shaking hands with sponsors, fans, relatives and the like. What time will she make it home?

I would say around 3am, sharp.

www.wayneflask.com [don't expect - suggest]

blogspot

Little Earthquakes?

noreply@blogger.com (Wayne) — Thu, 27 May 2004 13:10:00 +0000

Confident, almost being full of himself. It’s a fact and he knows it. Is he another run of the mill self-appointed last-of-the-rockstars pumped with hot air? Not really, no.

That Niki Gravino is a good musician is undisputable, and that’s something he’s aware of. ‘Good musician’ is an understatement, of course, for Niki’s transformation into an all rounder – producer, singer, guitarist and arranger to mention a few – places him onto one rare pedestal in the Maltese music scene. He has worked hard for this completeness, spending long nights up in his own digging away at mids in Foreface Studios, or in his bedroom reading philosophy, sometimes even forgetting to dine. And, almost suddenly, it was time to launch the new Niki Gravino, and the CD single Vitamins and Eyecream. I thought the guy was taking it too far – doing the launch at MITP in Valletta following a couple of glam/art rock photoshoots and more promo material on the same lines. I was, in the most honest sense, really sceptical of whether this blessed launch party could work out as everyone wanted.

Having worked with Niki for a good three years during my management of SKyN, I knew the guy was ambitious, and ambition can work both ways. SKyN was something else – technically superb yet less colourful, sometimes turning itself into a conflict of hardheads which would nonetheless resolve itself in one way or another without aftershocks. It was a unique band; in its resolve, its grind, its power when things went right, its abrasiveness, and its friendship.

How it all changed in these six months, I thought to myself as I walked into the squalor of an ever-desert 9pm Valletta. From me hugging the band goodbye to Niki about to embrace his brave new world, a leap into the dark which I believed he was doing all too quickly in pure, unmitigated Gravino-style.

But as I entered the main hall at MITP my doubts vanished among the dense dark cloud of incense accompanying the around three hundred of audience – most of them paying for the launch party of someone they had barely heard of before.

Forget the name launch party, please. First, the surroundings were elegantly gruesome, fitting perfectly to the new concept Gravino was launching. It looked like those goth bars which police serials or B-movies often stereotype (invariably, in both Nash Bridges and CSI: Miami the good ones descend into this underworld to make polite questions and collect clues or else to clean it from evil). It was an elegantly planned atmospheric, as were the Aleateia actors dressed and painted in semi-demonical, accompanying the music through their dancing or mingling with the audience (resulting in a few frights too).

Intro with violins, crystal-clear sound (Joe Genovese, who if not?) suggestive low-key lighting and well placed spots and scanners swirling around, the show kicked off causing a hush to descend among the audience. Gravino himself appeared onstage for the first track, Fingers, sending the audience wild. It looked as if he was launching his third album.

I had often likened Niki to Dave Navarro of Jane’s Addiction, particularly for his posture on the guitar and his hairdo. But today he came across as a living reincarnation of Prince, dressed emphatically and donning makeup. So he strutted along the stage during his five-track performance, wriggling and swaying around with half the mike stand in a manner akin to JA’s singer, Perry Farrell.

Musically he was very far away from Messrs Farrell and Navarro. Owing Niki a window of knowledge on the masters of electronica in the eighties, I could easily detect the sounds of darker Depeche Mode, the lightweight chording typical of Duran Duran, with the spectre of Nine Inch Nails creeping slowly into the music.

The live performance was sublime, everything smoothly in place without a single twitch by any of the performers. Following Fingers and Like Feathers, the show went on with an extended version of NIN’s Hurt and an electronised yet watered down version of Cult’s Rain. And then, of course, came the title-track of his CD single, Vitamins and Eyecream, before the all too deserved encore. It only took around one hour, a theatrical that concluded itself with bows, applauses, thanks, hugs, and Madame Marie’s conclusion in perfect French (which very few people understood, and even less worried about).

Less than a week after the launch it’s me and Niki sitting at a table again. But while usually it would be the two of us kidding each other after the Monday 5-a-side footie (mostly about bad dribbles or a couple of shots which ended in the parking) in front of a beer, today it’s question time and a coffee.

My first question is whether he is concerned about writing music for the masses or art for himself. “I try to strike a balance basically. After all, I believe strongly that art is not the artist’s stage; art starts to exist in an interaction between the artist and the appreciator. Art isn’t my music, or the appreciator’s feeling, but an interaction between the two. And I believe that this strange art that no-one can understand is stronger than that other art which exists only through a recipe where the audience’s psychology is studied so that the artist gives them what they want…” Translate the last sentence into his distaste for Nickelback or Papa Roach.

Over five thousand flyers have been distributed around Malta bearing Niki’s face and his intention to launch Vitamins & Eyecream. And most of those who received them probably asked their pal “who is Niki Gravino?”

I am asking him the same question, but although the wording is similar, I am probing something deeper, completely different from the music.

“Niki Gravino is someone who avoids knowing how to answer that question,” he says.

“Do you see two different Niki Gravino’s?”

“I don’t see two Niki Gravino’s. I see a lot of people – or rather characters in a play. Not a character as a personality but a character as an actor. For example, if I’m dining out I don’t feel like destroying the guitar like I would like to do onstage… If I’m on a stage it’s different than dining out.”

“Vitamins and Eyecream is a metaphor towards something real. But I prefer not to speak about that in a direct manner, I’d rather people interpret my lyrics the way they would like to, and understand or hurt them in their own way. To give a little hint I could say that it’s a song where I intend to make fun of myself through sarcasm.”

“Normally I don’t decide to write something and start writing it. It comes by itself, and since I’m writing my music directly in the studio, it is oriented around the sounds I’m writing. Generally the meaning of the words comes out of something, somewhere I don’t know; and it always makes sense. But I never know the meaning before the project is finished. The sound of the lyrics is ultimately more important to me than their meaning.”

Looking at his whole persona, Niki could easily be added to the list of eighties revival aficionados that are currently filling the airwaves. Yet the word eighties is too encompassing to define a genre, particularly his genre; the eighties we are talking about, for clarity’s sake, is neither Van Halen nor Alice Cooper nor Bananarama nor Toc Toc; we are talking about Depeche Mode’s dramatisation process and the similar yet failed Duran Duran attempt at the above. Not the cheese counter, if you know what I mean.

“I am actually capitalising on the return of the eighties that is, in a way, already past it. However, at the same time as capitalising on it I try to escape from being another product. Musically, I’m bred in the eighties, but funnily enough I didn’t get the influences of my music from there. I used to listen to, say, bands like Whitesnake, Europe… Bon Jovi… however those bands are the only thing from the eighties that I don’t use,” he says with a laugh. “I have never listened to a whole album – save for Depeche Mode – of any electronica project.”

His mobile phone momentarily interrupts the discussion. I complement him on a coffee that, at half eight in the evening tasted like manna, and we continue with the discussion.

“As I was saying, the electronic influences that people can discern from my music are due to the fact that that music has been at heart without me actually being a big follower.”

Mr Narcissus Gravino would be a name for him, perhaps? “Niki Gravino as a project is all about one particular artist, first and foremost. It’s a man who writes music on his own and has everything under his control so, yes, you can take that as narcissism. It is also a question of the listener meeting not with a chance factor in a band, but with the exact expression as intended by the artist. He is meeting the artist not in flesh but through the mediation of music.”

On SKyN: “I would like the band to continue, but ultimately I’m the person who is holding it back. My time is completely concentrated on this project and I can’t even hold a job if I wanted to. But I think that SKyN was – and can still be – a school for me. I have played with great musicians and they’re fantastic friends too. However, I don’t think I can give what I gave in the past, nor do I think that any of the others can. But I still wish this project could keep rolling.”

Vitamins and Eyecream may be a not-so-mainstream project, but the radios are giving it due attention. Two reasons work in favour of Niki here: first, the music’s production is superb (save a little low volume on the vocals) and, secondly, the polished rashness of Like Feathers and Fingers steer well into the mainstream territory whose borders are increasingly looking blurred.

And, remembering my positive surprise at the launch party, I allowed myself a wry smile when Niki Gravino told me he’s never really watched Perry Farrell. A showman like that who is neither Robert Plant nor Axl Rose, nor Iggy Pop nor Perry Farrell has a good ton of guts to work with. Stage presence in front of the mirror? It works miracles, try it.

Do place your bets on him, though don’t get too carried away. If he gets the opportunity to pack up and leave, Niki won’t be waiting twice for that (“nothing will stand in its way”) and he’s already rolled up his sleeves.

He did do more than just a few ripples, this good old in-Niki. Times change of course, and the next step could be him doing a few more little earthquakes. Keep the faith.