Drummer @ Pilot Light, Knoxville, October 15 by Andrew Clayman Published in The Metro Pulse, October 2009
Paired up on tour with their chums and labelmates Royal Bangs, Drummer is a new five-piece Akron, Ohio, collective comprised entirely, as you might have guessed, of drummers looking to spread their wings outside the kit. It’s no criticism of the band’s music to say that their bass player—Black Keys drummer and Audio Eagle label head Pat Carney—is the main reason for the quick buzz they’ve generated around their debut CD, Feel Good Together. But fans expecting to hear a Black Keys sort of sound (as Dan Auerbach generally provided on his recent solo album) will be in for quite the surprise here.
Carney, Steve Clements (keyboard, vocals), Jon Finley (guitar, vocals), Jamie Stillman (guitar), and Gregory Boyd (the one stuck with the drums)—all veterans of the Northeast Ohio music scene—are no slouches at their new instruments, but their tastes are clearly rooted more in ’70s power-pop and ’90s indie rock than Zeppelin-esque blues. The results, while not earth-shatteringly original, tap into a distinctly Midwestern everyman brand of alt-rock as best exemplified in the past by the likes of Dayton’s Guided by Voices. Other obvious indie touchstones include Built to Spill, Pavement, and a dash of the Replacements, but these drummers throw enough curveballs (such as the occasional dueling synthesizer) to keep things interesting and upbeat.
All in all, Drummer appears to be a side project with some staying power, and a tag-team bill with Royal Bangs pretty much makes this a must-see show.
Dan Auerbach Keep It Hid Nonesuch Apparently, “going solo” can now mean doubling the size of your band. If you’re Dan Auerbach of the Black Keys, anyway, it makes sense. Keep It Hid is Auerbach ‘s first solo effort, and unlike the typical stripped down, rocker side-project, it actually offers its artist a chance for expansion, escaping the sometimes limited framework of his other band’s guitar-drums equation. Accordingly, Keep It Hid doesn’t sound like a Black Keys record, but it also doesn’t leave one reason to worry about drummer Pat Carney becoming Andrew Ridgeley. Auerbach might be spreading his wings here, but he’s not flying away from Akron, Ohio.
After misleading the listener a bit with some folk-acoustic meandering (“Trouble Weighs a Ton”), Auerbach quickly plugs the electric in—as well as an Iron Butterfly organ—for the psychedelically juicy “I Want Some More.” Song titles and lyrics have never been the man’s strong suit, so nothing new there, but Keep It Hid definitely keeps one’s interest from that point on. “Whispered Words” kind of sounds like a lost CCR basement recording, and “When the Night Comes” has a sweetness and fragility to it that Auerbach rarely ever hinted at on any of the Black Keys’ more macho, fuzz-blues ballads. If there is one thing in tact from Dan’s better known band, however, it’s the perfect imperfection that only a makeshift Akron studio like this one can duplicate.
It’s a skin-singeing 95 degrees in Chicago, but Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney are cooler than a couple of Fonzies in a cryogenic freeze. Their contorted faces are part of the city skyline, projected on Jumbotrons and looking out across a sea of twenty-thousand shirtless worshippers. This is Lollapalooza, and the Black Keys are certifiable rock gods.
Speaking to Auerbach via telephone a few weeks after this epic performance, however, I don’t exactly pick up on any Bono-like sense of self-divinity. The Black Keys’ singer/guitarist has the TV on in the background, and he’s talking about his favorite restaurants in the band’s hometown of Akron, Ohio.
“There’s a Korean place called Seoul Garden that I really like,” he says. “It’s family operated. I would say they’re a bit like the Black Keys of Korean restaurants-- very DIY.”
In fairness, Auerbach’s tangent on local eateries is merely a response to my confession that I, too, am a man from the land of Akron-- “The Rubber City.” It’s this shared Midwestern experience, in fact, that I initially hoped would open the doors to a deeper understanding of the Black Keys’ modest and minimalist rock philosophy. But when I ask Auerbach why he and Carney (drums) have chosen to keep their homebase in our hometown, he doesn’t deliver the romanticized response I was angling for.
“Sometimes I’m not sure why we’re still in Akron, honestly,” he mumbles. “The quality of life isn’t so great. It’s weird, though, because we’re kind of stuck here. It’s like there’s an invisible chain around our ankles.”
Auerbach is actually expressing a rather common sentiment among Akronties— an irrational devotion born out of consistent disappointment. This might explain why the Keys have become Akron’s greatest musical ambassadors since the city’s late ‘70s glory days, when New Wave pioneers like DEVO, Chrissie Hynde, and the Waitresses all flew the Rubber City flag. Auerbach and Carney even attended the same high school as many of those artists. Separated by a generation, though, the Black Keys never saw an open invitation to carry any torches.
“I never thought about it when I was a kid,” Auerbach says. “I mean, the school doesn’t really show any love for any of the musicians who’ve come out of there. There’s a bunch of people on the Firestone High School Wall of Fame, and I don’t know if I’ve heard of any of them. It’s a shame, but you know, that’s what happens.”
It remains to be seen what sort of local legacy Auerbach and Carney will leave behind. But thus far, they’ve done at least one thing that their successful Firestone predecessors didn’t—they’ve stayed in town. The duo’s first four LPs, in fact, were all recorded in Carney’s makeshift basement studio in Akron. And even as their amped-up take on fuzz-garage-blues has elbowed its way into TV, films, and sold-out shows around the world, the Black Keys have remained seemingly unfazed—unwilling to develop any swagger after ten years of humble aspirations and hard work.
“We definitely worked our asses off,” Auerbach says, “As you know, in those early days of touring, it was pretty miserable, and we weren’t making any money. But, over time, slowly but surely, things got steadier and sort of took off.
“Now we’re just trying to keep our heads above water, I guess. We’re doing the doggy paddle in the midst of this surreal thing that’s happening. It’s really strange. We never thought any of this would happen. And now every other day, something else is put on our plate that kind of blows our minds.”
Some days, it’s playing in front of a massive crowd at Lollapalooza. Other days, it’s teaming up with the world’s hottest producer. For the Keys’ latest album, Attack & Release, they decided to abandon the basement and work in a “real” studio with new pal Brian Burton, aka Danger Mouse. It was Burton who helped shake the rust off the band’s minimalist guitar and drums formula, adding some depth and nuance to standout tracks like “I Got Mine” and “Strange Times.” The result was the Black Keys’ highest charting effort yet-- #14 on the Billboard Hot 100.
“Brian told us, ‘I’ve got a lot of tricks that you guys could learn, and I really want to learn stuff from you guys.’ It was sort of an unexpected but great thing to hear—that level of mutual respect. And I definitely learned a bunch of things from being in the studio with him.”
Burton’s influence will likely play a role in the next Keys’ project, whether it’s recorded in Akron or another place not too metaphorically far away.
“Right now, it’s like there are no rules or boundaries out there for us,” Auerbach says. “We can kind of do whatever we want. And I think that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
Straight Outta Akron The Black Keys Keep Their Feet Planted in Ohio By Andrew Clayman Published in The Metro Pulse, September 2008
I was born and raised in Akron, Ohio. It’s not so much a badge of honor as it is a battle scar, but it comes with a sense of pride just the same. Like any good Akronite, I also have an embarrassingly encyclopedic knowledge of every halfway famous individual that ever cut their teeth in my hometown—whether it be LeBron James, the DEVO members who went to high school with my dad, that Angie Everhart chick, or a couple of scruffy, modern day blues-rock champs named Dan and Patrick.
No two dudes—and they are dudes—have ever served as more appropriate Akron ambassadors than the Black Keys. Storming out of the same Firestone High School that produced Pretenders frontwoman Chrissie Hynde, the Waitresses, and part of the aforementioned DEVO, guitarist/vocalist Dan Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney have taken on the Akron rock mantle for the next generation. And they’ve done so to the tune of enormous international success, with their fuzz-heavy riffs and pounding toms regularly heard in films, TV ads, and at sold-out shows around the globe. Their current album, Attack & Release, has been the band’s biggest success yet, reaching #14 on the Billboard charts and drawing wide critical acclaim. If there’s still any mystery about Dan and Patrick from the perspective of the outsider, it would probably concern why both men have elected to keep their operations in hum drum Northeast Ohio, when grander metropolises would surely welcome them.
“Sometimes I’m not sure why we’re still in Akron, honestly,” Auerbach says, delivering something less than the romanticized explanation I was hoping for. “The quality of life is not so great in most respects. I don’t know. It’s weird, because we’re kind of stuck here. There’s an invisible chain around our ankles.”
This is the strange dynamic of dissatisfaction and devotion that you’ll hear from a lot of Akronites, and a fair share of Knoxvillians, for that matter. In fact, Akron and Knoxville are sister cities in a way, with relatable populations, work ethics, and music scenes (Knoxville’s Royal Bangs, for example, have signed with Pat Carney’s Audio Eagle record label). Neither town would be mistaken for L.A., New York, or even Cincinnati, but as the Black Keys prove, unique artists often come from unique places.
“Well, we also had to work our asses off,” Auerbach says. “As you know, in those early days of touring, it was pretty miserable. We weren’t making any money-- awful meals at rest areas. So, you know, we did that kind of stuff, and slowly but surely, things got more steady and sort of took off.
“Now we’re just trying to keep our heads above water, I guess. We’re doing the doggie paddle in the midst of this surreal thing that’s happening. It’s really strange. We never thought any of this would happen. And now every other day, something else is put on our plate that kind of blows our minds.”
Cases in point: playing in front of 30,000 people at Lollapalooza, opening for the likes of Beck and Radiohead, or having their new record produced by pop’s current go-to-guy, Brian Burton, aka Danger Mouse.
“We really wanted to experiment on this record-- use a lot of different instruments,” Auerbach says. “But we weren’t even considering having a producer until we started working with Brian on the Ike thing (a project with Ike Turner that wasn’t completed before his death). And we got along with him so well and had so much in common that it just made sense, and we jumped on it.”
With the influence of Burton, Attack & Release shook the Black Keys out of the comfort zone of 2006’s Magic Potion and bolstered their garage-rock Zeppelin approach with some much needed left turns and special effects.
“Yeah, Brian told us, ‘I’ve got a lot of tricks that you guys could learn, and I really want to learn stuff from you guys.’ It was sort of an unexpected but great thing to hear— that level of mutual respect. And I definitely learned a bunch of things from being in the studio with him—and from just from being in a real studio for the first time.”
Real studios aside, the Black Keys haven’t lost any of the DIY spirit or Midwestern modesty they developed during a decade of making records in a basement in Akron. As for whether that makes them better Akron ambassadors than basketball’s King James, Auerbach chooses the diplomatic approach.
“I think that we probably promote Akron more than LeBron James does. But who knows? Let’s just say we’re tied.”
Houseguest Music from the Mutual Chums of the Black Keys & Royal Bangs By Andrew Clayman Published in The Knoxville Voice, June 2008 Regardless of what the name might suggest, Houseguest is not a band interested in being anybody’s Kato Kaelin. Even in their hometown of Akron, Ohio, where singer Ted Mallison helps run a record label with longtime friend and Black Keys drummer Pat Carney, there is zero pandering to the fans of popular fuzzed-out, blues-rock duos. Instead, Houseguest is a quintet quite content with its own wholly unique pop sound, running the gamut from XTC to GBV and quite a few random influences in between.
“That’s what makes songwriting so interesting with this band,” Mallison says. “We all have very different tastes. I think a lot of bands form based on a shared idea of what music they all like, but we really didn’t do that. As a group, we don’t even really work that well together,” he laughs. “It’s hard. Each of us wanted to have a certain kind of band, but we wound up together because we’ve been friends for so long, and it just made the most sense. Our ideas clash a lot, but what comes out is pretty cool, I think.”
The initial seeds for Houseguest were planted in Akron’s own musician factory, Firestone High School, in the late ‘90s. A generation removed from producing the likes of Chrissie Hynde and Devo, Firestone cranked out a few more winners for the new century, including singer/songwriter Joseph Arthur and a couple of noisemakers by the names of Patrick Carney and Dan Auerbach (the Black Keys). The friends who would later become Houseguest were in the midst of this Akron renaissance, as well.
“Yeah, we all went to high school together,” Mallison says. “We were in a bunch of different bands, too. I was in a band with Pat (Carney) when I was in ninth grade. Houseguest actually started out as mainly just our bass player Gabe (Schray) writing some songs with (guitarist) Dave (Whited). Eventually, Dave Rich and I joined on, and everyone started to contribute more and more.”
Since those first gigs in 2002, Houseguest has seen the high and lows of the music business swirl around them. The tragic death of bandmember Stephen Caynon inspired the band to stay together after a near breakup in 2003, and the improbable success of their Black Keys comrades provided a whole new perspective on music as an economically viable career choice.
“Most of what happened with the Black Keys was totally unexpected,” Mallison says. “I mean, that band had only existed for a couple months when they got their first record deal-- which was kind of a fluke. Everyone was just like, ‘how did that happen?!’ And then all of the sudden they got this review in Rolling Stone and they’re going on tour with Sleater-Kinney! That just doesn’t happen. And obviously, that was never the path I expected Houseguest to take.”
Fortunately, the Keys have remained loyal to their hometown and their old friends. When Carney decided to start Audio Eagle Records, he asked Mallison to join him as the label’s Director of Operations. Houseguest also became one of Audio Eagle’s first signings, with their well received record High Strangeness hitting shelves in 2006.
“As far as Audio Eagle goes, it’s been a real positive experience,” Mallison says. “Pat’s hope was to use his notoriety to help boost up bands he likes—the Royal Bangs, for example.”
So, how did one of Knoxville’s most promising bands, Royal Bangs, wind up on an upstart Akron label? Turns out Houseguest had a hand in that, as well.
“Knoxville is one of the cities that we’ve been playing for a long time,” says Mallison, noting that Houseguest drummer Stephen Clements is a UT alum. “During a show a while back, I met Chris (Rusk) from Royal Bangs and liked what I heard from them. Then, when Audio Eagle got started, they actually friended us on Myspace, and when Pat stumbled upon them, he immediately told me he really liked it and wanted to put it out. And I agreed. Their record is really good, they’re good live, and they’re funny guys. We’ve got high hopes for them.”
Mallison also has high hopes for Houseguest’s next album, of course, which is due out this fall. It’ll supposedly be a mellower affair than the band’s usual high energy, humor laced, New-Wave-post-punk sound.
“I think I’m more serious about it now than when I started,” Mallison says. “I didn’t even plan on being in a band. I thought it was fun, but it wasn’t really what I wanted to do. But now I really want to try and make a serious go of it. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out.”
Drummer 
