We’re playing another show.
Dive bar in excelsis - The Cinema Bar. 3967 Sepulveda (between Venice and Washington). 5th November (a date that has far more significance in England than it ever could here in the U.S.)
Come, do.
The Charlie Horse EP by Dylan Trees will be released from its stable on OCTOBER 6th at the HOTEL CAFE in Hollywood.
Dylan Trees will be playing at 8pm sharp.
Hope to see you there.
Some video footage of us from the Swing House party, courtesy of Vimby. We think this might be the first time we’ve been captured on film. We’re on at 1:12 (after the rocking Astra Heights).
The last two weeks have been behemoths. We played three shows, found a new drummer, recorded, mixed, and celebrated Jeremy’s birthday.
The first show was one of those duties every new band has to perform - 11.30pm on a Monday. If it’s good enough for The Replacements…
The Replacements returned to New York in June 1983, playing at CBGB. The gig was a failure; the band were almost refused entry, Bob Stinson was thrown out as soon as he walked in the door, and The Replacements were the last of five bands, which meant they played in the early morning on a Monday night. [from Wikipedia]
Despite the time, it was a pretty good show. A small but attentive crowd stuck around to hear us play. The Derby is a big venue for us (big enough for the dance scene from Swingers, too big for us). The sound, though nice and swampy and warm, didn’t quite make it up to the rafters.
That Friday we played Live at the Lounge in Hermosa Beach. Not our usual crowd, but it was a very enjoyable show. The Bowmans came and played as well - nice to have some Mother West label mates on the bill. It’s a cool and somewhat Lynchian set up. A comedian comes on in front of a golden curtain. He tells a few off-colour jokes. The curtain rises and the band plays three songs. We thought it would be funny to strike a pose before the curtain rose (it wasn’t, it was weird). We also thought it would be weird to wave to the crowd as the curtain came back down (it wasn’t, it was funny). Still, nice dinner crowd who were very polite and only a bit confused by a vaguely psychedelic band fronted by an Englishman playing sinister introspective folk songs while they ate their peach cobblers.
The grand finale was the Deli Magazine launch party at Swing House studio in West Hollywood. It was a good show, and a smooth party. The audience seemed pretty engaged (perhaps noticeably more so than usual because of the bright ambient lights in the room - a bit like playing in a classroom. Pay attention at the back). Rob and his girlfriend Sara surprised Jeremy, and the audience, with a tray of cupcakes and candles to blow out for his birthday (which was three days earlier). This show felt like the end of the beginning for us. For the first time we really held people’s attention and had some nice comments afterwards. It is literally the end of one era, as Chelsey is leaving to live in San Francisco. Thankfully lovely Heather is ready to step up and sit down on drums.
We’re going to spend the next few weeks writing and practicing. Watch this space for occasional low-key shows, before we play out again in earnest from September with new drummer, new songs, and new shoes.
Our friend Ben spotted this on London’s South Bank. It’s brilliant. Thanks for the picture, Ben.
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The week started auspiciously with a sublime Fleet Foxes show at Spaceland. It’s nice to see a band at the height of their powers - relaxed and vibing with each other. I hope they can sustain the magic, even when they start playing venues too large to chat to the audience at the side of the stage between songs.
And the week ended well. Jeremy and Jodi met up with the Bowmans for a stroll around Venice Beach. The freaks were out in force. We bought joss sticks, drank brown cows, and the Bowmans told tales of their neverending tour (including their time in London, where they met up with friends of Dylan Trees: Erica and Kasms and others). The Bowmans are playing every Wednesday in July at the Hotel Cafe, including a show with Kristin Hersh on July 9th. Are we alone in finding this really exciting?
A lot of the weekend was spent listening to Judee Sill. Hearing her sing is like seeing a light at the end of the collapsed mine tunnel. Or perhaps the collapsed mine tunnel at the end of the light.
We’re in full rehearsal mode for the upcoming Dylan Trees shows. Hope to see you at some of them. On Sunday we spent the afternoon in West LA Studios. We’ve thus far relied on Rob’s apartment for practice. But we thought the rehearsal room would give us some good practice with mics etc. In particular it’s a good warm up for the Swinghouse show, when we are literally performing in a rehearsal studio. It worked well, especially after (producer and Mother West svengali) Charles arrived and tweaked the EQ and reverb. By the end we had a wonderful wash of reverb, and with the lights dimmed it was very atmospheric. We recorded it on Jeremy’s laptop, but the levels were way too high and it all came out as a distorted crunch. Not in a good way.
So that was the week that was. A week of bearded foxes and female singer-songwriters, and all the better for it. See you at The Derby next Monday, we hope. On stage 10.30pm.
Bit of an administrative week for us. Chelsey was up in San Francisco trying to find somewhere to live when she goes up there to study, taking her sweet temperament and elegant drumming with her (more on this later). Jodi was in Florida catching up with the family. This left the rest of us to work on another intro to another song. This has a load of chords, soaring lap steel, and some manic rhythms. Sort of sounds like Syd Barrett playing Iron Maiden. Sort of.
So as Chelsey leaves for a new life up the coast, Dylan Trees is searching for a new drummer. We’ve got a couple of options right now, but still looking. If you’re interested in trying out get in touch: dylantrees@mac.com
Experience isn’t important. Rhythm is.
The only other news this week is the almost continual revolving of the Fleet Foxes album on the Crosley. It’s a stunner. Waves of tremulous chiming guitars and chord progressions that rise and spin and rise. The soundtrack to summer’s cauldron.
Three things happened this week with no apparent connection, yet on some mystical level interrelated.
Firstly we added a long coda to our new song which stretches Rob’s banjo skills to but not beyond their limits. It’s becoming a sprawling country mod folk epic that might no longer fit its working title (”Chickens”). A sort of bluegrass Stairway to Heaven (which would be funnier had Dolly Parton not recorded an actual bluegrass Stairway). We’re hoping to premiere it at the Derby show on July 14th, after which Jodi’s whistling prowess is likely to be the talk of Los Feliz.
Secondly, Jeremy’s Crosley arrived. So his house is full of the crackly sounds of Sonny Rollins and Waylon Jennings.
Finally, and bestily, Charles persuaded the wonderful Probyn Gregory to overlay some horn melody parts over the Charlie Horse tracks. He arrived at Charles’ house armed with a trumpet, flugelhorn, french horn, and melodica.
Probyn has played in Brian Wilson’s band for the past nine years. This excited us no end, and between takes Jeremy demanded anecdotes about the stunning London shows he’d seen (premiere of Smile at the RFH, the Queen’s Jubilee at the palace). Despite this distraction, the recordings turned out great, giving everything a woozy psychedelic vibe. Somewhere between Atom Heart Mother and Herb Alpert. Not sure how we’re going to use them yet, but I hope they’ll be available to hear soon.
So there it is. The mystical trinity of banjo, vinyl, and flugelhorn. It has summoned a heat wave of epic intensity in L.A. We’re all off to the beach to strip off and frolic in the surf with the grunions.
In an attempt to introduce some sort of structure to this blog, and inspired by the inimitable Ken Stringfellow, we’re going to be posting weekly updates on the occasionally interesting life and times of Dylan Trees.
This week was a milestone. We played our first official show. Our first unofficial show was a month ago on a porch in Hermosa Beach, to a kind crowd of close friends (and a bemused crowd of passing Hermosa beach-goers - not our usual scene). But this time we played the weirdly wonderful Genghis Cohen in West Hollywood.
The run up to this was frankly a scramble. Jeremy was hospitalized with food poisoning a fortnight before the show, throwing our rehearsal schedule. But we’ve been practicing these songs for long enough that they’re becoming second nature. Chelsey even started flying solo without her mysterious book of drum annotations (whose runes will throw up some interesting challenges for archaeologists if unearthed in a couple of thousand years).
The show itself seemed to go well. We’re still getting used to the challenges presented by monitors. And microphones. And an audience. And in this case an entire Chinese restaurant of diners just behind the audience. But we eased into it and by the end it felt confident and tight. A totally under-rehearsed 11th hour tribute to Bo Diddley worked OK (though announcing a tribute to the passing of a legend, followed by the intro to ‘Hey Bo Diddley’ on an acoustic, led some to believe that George Michael had died. George Michael is not dead. Dylan Trees is not likely to be covering ‘Faith’, even if he was. ‘Everything She Wants’, maybe). It certainly wasn’t as rousing as the version at the great man’s funeral.
After the show we had beer at Genghis Cohen, gin at the Dime, and tequila at Tom Bergins. This mystical journey led us to our friend Tom’s apartment, and we danced to Tom’s definitive collection of easy listening Beatles’ covers. The brassy swinging version of ‘Hey Jude’ was a corker. It had Jodi literally climbing the walls with glee.
Sunday was hanging over with Doctor Who (’The Library’ two-parter. Fantastic.), and Jeremy introduced Rob to the boundless delights of ‘Look Around You’ via YouTube.
This week also saw us finalize the artwork for the Charlie Horse EP (released on Mother West sometime next month). Brazilian art director supremo Rodrigo Butori has turned Erica’s wonderful horse image into a glorious explosion of soft colours. It’s worked out really well. Dylan Trees are forever in debt to Rodrigo and Erica. We salute you.
Print this out for a glorious $2 discount. Dylan Trees: cheap date.
