COVID-ERA MUSIC
Connecticut artists making tunes from stay-at-home anthems to roof-raising rock
They may not be able to play out live much, but local musicians have kept busy in the COVID era. Some have made fresh music in the moment, responding to events of the day. Others have used the shutdown downtime as an opportunity to finish up long-dormant projects.
Isolation and navel-gazing apparently hasn’t stopped bands like the Balkun Brothers from writing stadium-ready riffheavy hard-rock work-outs.
Some bands have used the pandemic for inspiration, like The Bargain, which sings “Never had so much time on my hands in my whole adult life.”
This reckoning of a dozen or so recent releases got an assist from the hosts of two of the state’s longest-running and most popular local music radio shows: Rick Allison and Frank Critelli of WPLR’s Sunday night staple “Local Bands,” who chimed in with some of their current faves. Critelli is also among the music acts, with his new band The Bargain.
You’ll recognize some familiar faces (some with even longer facial hair now), but there are also some welcome newcomers. Rick Allison notes that producer/musician Sam Carlson “has been a busy lad,” with numerous producing credits (including the three-album local-music compilation “Waiting for the Sunrise”) as well as an EP from his own S.G. Carlson and the Tines. DeRosa, who runs the Thin Man music label in Meriden, is high on The Bargain, Shady Street Allstars and Balkun Brothers; those three acts alone demonstrate the breadth of great local music that
emanates from Connecticut.
The web addresses listed are in most cases the bands’ home websites. The music itself can mostly be found on bandcamp. com (which in many cases lets you name your own price when purchasing), with a few bands also found on places like Apple Music and Spotify.
The Alex Butter Field, “Psychedelipop” (seven songs) and “Popsychle” (six songs), thealexbutterfield.bandcamp.com. This decades-old band’s name is a nod to the Nixon aide who hipped the world to the existence of a secret taping system in the White House. It’s a side project of Hank Hoffman, whose main band is Happy Ending and who is also the exec
utive director of the Best Video Film and Cultural Center in Hamden. These recordings, spread over two albums, were largely made in the early 2000s, with acclaimed Hartford-based indie pop producer Mike Deming. It’s a feast of unexpected instruments and aural surprises, swirling around solid melodies and Hoffman’s pleasant vocals. The brightness of the sound is beautifully upset by some dark sentiments in some of the lyrics, as in “Jesus Never Came Back” or “I Followed a Shadow” (“or was that a shadow following me?”).
Among the Acres, “Dreamcatcher” (10-song album, amongtheacres.com). Firm alt-folk with some U2esque flourishes on the opening number “Home.” The title song is a wistful, steadily strummed lament. Elsewhere, the band gets bluesy and swirly.
Balkun Brothers, “Here Comes the
End of the World” (7-songs, balkunbrothers.com). A seasoned rock band of infinite gallumphing grace, given added indie oomph by legendary Chicago-based producer Steve Albini. A monster amalgam of hard rock, funk, a little speed metal, a dash of prog, even a touch of Queen. The songs (“Traumatized,” “Death by Bear,” “Tommy Gun Shuffle”) can be gloomy but the Balkun Brothers sound is a raging fire in the darkness.
The Bargain, “In Line for the Medicine” (four songs, thebargain.bandcamp.com). New Depression trio of well-established singer/songwriters Frank Critelli, Shandy Lawson and Mike “Muddy” Rivers. A fine folk take on current crises, and what they might remind us of. “Who would have thought,” Critelli sings, scanning the syllables adroitly, “that after such an easy winter we’d be in this predicament?” Tough sentiments, warmly played.
S.G. Carlson and the Tines, “The Enemy is Listening” (four songs, freeasbirdsrecords.bandcamp.com). Tough yet sensitive observations in alt-rock mode. Carlson’s purposefully rough voice are complimented on “White Sedan/Red Earth” by Katherine von Ancken.
Mild Monk, “Pocket Comforts” (nine songs, mildmonk.bandcamp.com). Now based in San José, West Hartford native Henry Stein made this eclectic, spiritual beat tape over a quarantined visit to his family Connecticut. It’s soulful, affirmative,
destroyed was truly beautiful. The workshops, film screenings, music videos, yoga and dance classes, bathing Neil in Mountain Dew... it was all a part of our mission to provide accessible space and resources to creators. You all helped us realize that a room is a vessel. We felt like we could make any dream a reality there. Thank you for helping us transform it into what it became.”
The same despair is articulated on Facebook by Mac 650 s Matt Banta, who found himself blindsided in June when his landlord unexpectedly terminated his lease: “No one could see this coming, there’s no text book or mentor to prepare me for this time in history.
... We booked bands from around the world, strangers became family and I’ve never been happier than in this room with all of you.”
Perhaps the longestlived club among the many that have succumbed in the past eight months is
The Acoustic in the Black Rock section of Bridgeport, which announced on its Facebook page in
May that “due the cost of
Among the art that has graced the walls of the Mac 650 gallery and performance space in Middletown: a multitude of portraits by Abby Carter of those who used the Vincent de Paul Soup Kitchen in Middletown. Small venues are closing throughout the state during the pandemic, leading to a profound cultural loss in those communities.
overhead and the uncertainty of what business will look like for us we simply cannot continue to sustain our business and location any longer.” The Acoustic, which had a capacity of around 100, hosted important acts when they were just starting out, including John Mayer, Big Something and Goose.
The importance of these venues in helping move some bands from local to regional to national and
international success can not be understated. But the bands that are fine with just playing a sympathetic room in their hometown are just as important. A local club supports the local music scene.
Rich Martin, who runs The Telegraph record shop in New London, has been a part of that city’s music scene for decades. He’s been in a host of bands, and in the ‘90s and ‘00s he ran a couple of clubs: Tempo
rary Autonomous Zone and Secret Theatre. For the past few years, until the shutdown, Martin was the booking agent for one of the state’s most prestigious jazz rooms, the 80-seat Side Door Jazz Club at the Old Lyme Inn, which has not yet announced its plans to reopen.
“These places are essential for the development of a community,” Martin says. “It’s friendship, relationships — whole creative communities come out of that. There should be real concern over what might happen if they don’t come back. It’s not just about punk music, or hip-hop music, it’s about visual arts, writing and everything else. I’ve benefited from running them, and I’m benefiting from them being there.
“These spaces are part of a different kind of arts community, which has a connectivity between past, present and future. You know there’s this history there, which empowers you, plus you can add to it.
Laura Saunders, a child and adolescent psychologist at Hartford HealthCare, notes that these clubs are a critical gathering space for teens and young adults. “Adolescence is about identity development: What’s important to me? What do I like to do? What are my values? Should I reject my parents’ values? Formative youth experiences happen at these places. Having shared experiences with friends is absolutely critical. Losing these experiences affects kids’ motivation and can change their lives. It’s where identity formation takes place. How can you build an interest if you don’t have an opportunity to explore?”
In the past, small performance venues died and sprung up again with regularity. In the current climate, it’s not a given that small clubs or house shows will be back any time soon, and perhaps never again in the numbers they once were. Saunders says that worries those in the mental health field.
“It will take a long time for these open-ended venues to not be suspect,” says Saunders. “It’s not about opening a community space anymore. It’s about safety. There are things we never thought about before. As we move out of this pandemic, it will take a lot of effort to recreate these experiences for young adults.
Martin says the venues and the communities they foster are too valuable to let go.
“To lose these little places, scattered in the side streets of these small cities, is scary. That’s why some of us are already beginning to rally the troops, even though it’s too soon. Let’s think about the future. Hopefully we’ll soon be engaged again, so magic happens.”