At this point, Israeli singer/songwriter Idan Raichel has accomplished a tremendous amount of music. To be honest with my readers, his stint as a solo pianist didn’t do it for me. I found his songs too long and stunted by lack of a functional hook. That, of course, was just my take. And Idan did need a break from his band and needed to try something new.
But for And If You Will Come To Me (Cumbancha, 2019), Raichel tunes into his pop music sensibility while offering his most eclectic set of songs- which, for him, means quite eclectic. Usually intent on integrating the Middle East sounds ingrained in him, he still manages to go around the world, from Cuba to Euro clubs, to the desert. The album is laced with synth drums offering fat and propulsive patterns, along with layered whirs and whizzes that have come to be absolute necessities in pop music. Clearly, I have some opinions about the need for them, but some musicians, like Raichel, have the ability to use them tastefully.
In the beginning, “Galgal Mistovev (Spinning Wheel)” has a classic Middle Eastern pop quality to it, a kind intro to the album that will be, from this point onward, be zinging in a million directions. Soon following, “Ahava Ka’zo (A Love Like This)”, featuring Zehava Ben, is pretty in execution, if not cliche in structure. The title track (“Ve’Eem Tavo’ee Elay” in Hebrew) typifies his sound, his voice yearning and tempered, lavishly crawling over the chorus. Then, as the album reaches apex, we get a string of excellent songs. “La Eternidad Se Perdio (The Eternity That Was Lost)” integrates Cuban flare perfectly, including swirling horns. The sound is uncharacteristic of Raichel, but done here so well.
Three songs make the album most worth a listen, however. “Imidiwanine (My Friends)” features musical megathon Bombino. It’s a thumping, dance-ready, piece of art. It barely wanders from a strict club beat and guitar lick, but instead uses instrumental breakdowns and volume to alter intensity.
Secondly, “Beresheet (In The Beginning)” draws on Indian tabla and strings. Fans of Trevor Hall’s newer sound stylings will gush over this song, which builds and collapses like dark, frothy ocean waves. It’s really catchy and rich.
Finally, “Ketero (Let’s Meet)” features Idan’s band The Idan Raichel Project. The blistering horns, funky guitar, and roaring tempo make this the album’s most digestible song, one more keen on feel than sound, one that crosses over the pop boundary most fluidly.
My honest assessment of AIYWCTM is that it’s messy. Idan intentionally allowed himself to record what felt right in the moment, to be playful. The album is a restorative rekindling of his romance with music. Because the songs are so different from one another, it feels like a compilation without a theme. Still, it’s probably my favorite album he’s made. We didn’t talk too much about the lyrics, but the CD version of the album comes with the words translated into English. Idan tackles politics, love, and growth poetically, calling on raw emotion and intense interpersonal conflicts.
By my count, Joy To The World is Putumayo’s seventh Christmas collection.
Is this capitalizing on a consumerist holiday- or is it an understanding that Christmas songs are ubiquitous in cultivating a type of self-reflection and serenity? I actually believe the latter because Putumayo, well known for its thematic compilations, has taken us around the world for over two decades, and at this point it’s safe to assume whatever release carries its stamp will be quality.
Joy To The World is a bit of a wild card, however. The theme is much more lax than some of the other collections have been, leaving room among these 10 songs to span whatever works. The album’s slogan is, “Celebrate the season with holiday favorites from around the world,” but half of the songs are from the USA, so this is something of a false statement. The songs, however, cover lots of genre territory, even the stateside ones.
A highlight is Nossa Bossa Nova’s “The First Noel”, which is classy in execution, sung in Brazilian by the incomparable Teresa Levy. The song’s melody is so iconic that the bossa nova twists create a lovely rendition. As this song starts the album, the tone is set: laid back and moderate tempo will abound from here on out.
“Noel Avec Toi” is also also splendid, brought to you by Frederick De Grandpre, who wrote new lyrics to the tune of “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas”. The jazz standard transcription is sincere. A few other songs lean into this mode, including Marina del Gaudio’s “Bianco Natale”, Italian for “White Christmas.” The jazzy version, lush with instrumentation worthy of a gondola ride, is simple but effective. Ines Pupo and Goncalo Pratas stay on the bandwagon, this time taking us to Portugal with an original by the duo who were made famous through their children’s songs and books. Naturally, this song has a lightness and childlike innocence, but that aside, it’s a beautiful and Christmas song.
A bit out of place, “Frosty The Snowman”, performed by The Mighty Diamonds, offers a very roots reggae version of the snowy classic- a juxtaposition that’s lighthearted fun. The Mighty Diamonds are Jamaican legends, and the vocal performance is perfection, even when it vastly disrupts the flow of the album up to this point.
In fact, the album only suffers from two songs. Lynn August’s Zydeco styling on “Christmas By The Barbecue” is well done (pun intended), but the song is just too drawn out and long. Following the Blues lyrical formation that Zydeco oft uses, the song seems kind of fake and forced- even though the accordion is done extremely well. It’s not a terrible song, just not the best. And similarly, Leon Redbone successfully transports us to Hawaii for “Christmas Island”, and the lyrics to this original are exceptional, but it only has two verses, which it recycles repeatedly for three and a half minutes, and the song fumbles, in need of more substance.
Regardless, in a season that has many songs but a finite number found on the radio and over mall loudspeakers, Putumayo offers interesting versions of classics and tasty originals, and Joy To The World has a steady pace, and the type of magic one would hope a Christmas album would be imbued with. This album is a joy.
Have you heard Sarazino yet? He’s a mystical mix of genres: reggae, hip-hop, West African, and Pop- just to name a few. Like his other albums, Mama Funny Day [Cumbancha, 2018] is rich with guest stars from around the globe. As a producer, Sarazino dives into the production of his own music, having developed a studio-rich blend of instruments that fills every corner of your speakers. His music is often political, sometimes sensual or spiritual, and always upbeat and fast-paced. He sings in French, Spanish, and English.
So, if you haven’t heard him yet, now’s the time to start.
The title track, soaking in French swagger, fires densely over hearty low-end piano (a Sarazino staple). To translate: “It’s all about you, dear… It’s not really a party if you’re not well.” In fact, Sarazino has no trouble telling it like it is. On the beautiful “Frente Latina” he barks, “Listen/Anything is possible/ Life can spin you around… The world is part of a cult/ living through a bloody war.” And on the psychedelic “Jenjay” he offers, “Nobody perceives my absence/ but they do control my presence.”
One of the best tracks, “Go Johnny”, is a very modern reggae blast with sizzling synth. “Yes, go, go/ the road is ahead,” Sarazino zings, but the impact is really in the instrumentation. Put on your headphones and crank the volume. The layers of sounds swirl elegantly. “En Zion” is the same level, both in awesomeness as well as musical headiness.
Stylistically, “Berrani” is a weak song to end on. The Middle Eastern flare is interesting, but not as accessible as the other songs. Better to have ended on “Lucky Day”, a deeply political track, where, in English, Sarazino hucks, “Everybody is afraid/ everybody wants a gun.”
Yet, the drawback to Sarazino is, ironically, his consistency. He too easily found a formula, and as robust as the songs are, his go-to plot line is as follows: launch in with a fat beat and strew instruments delicately over this, then hit with two verses and two choruses, and then the guest performer comes in before the final chorus. It’s a pop equation that is near-perfect, (that’s why pop uses it), but this often leaves Sarazino’s albums to feel long and repetitive. Along with guests Toots Hibbert and Albert Watson, Sarazino whips up a tantalizing anthem on “People”, and he offers a blistering cumbia with “La Cumbia Mala”, so it’s not any one song, it’s the album totaled up. Mama Funny Day suffers because of this, and he would benefit from introducing variety, like acoustic songs, slower songs, or songs that change up the voice of tone.
But the quality of care is clear across Mama Funny Day, as well as Sarazino staying relevant more than a decade into his career, makes for an excellent example of music from the four corners of the earth synthesizing, especially within the framework of socially conscious lyrics. It’s fun, rowdy, and heavy music for the modern age. I have deep respect and love for Sarazino.
Alific has been around. He’s lived in several major U.S. cities, and through that has been exposed to myriad sounds of influence, beginning with his time as bassist in Stick Figure. Then he absorbed the DJ scene. After playing keys for The Movement for a while, he set out on his own again. Two years after Pacific, Alific unleashes Electric Radio.
What is this album? Let’s qualify it as DJ music. The use of the studio is effervescent throughout these 14 tracks. But the music is really steeped in reggae, as well as hip-hop. The melting of these genres has been done time and time again, but Alific is so seamless that he’s, in a way, built his own unique sound. The electronic vibe is upbeat, ethereal, and glitzy, reminiscent of Lemon Jelly. But the crux of Electric Radio is the soulfulness combined with fun.
“Bulletproof” conveys this perfectly. Vinyl scratches sneak in under slide guitar, dub style horns, and a fat snare and kick beat. The ending, with vocal synths echoing over an ever growing silence, marks Alific’s use of mixing. Then, songs like “Dawn of The Kessel Run” (does anyone know the reference?), are tighter. In many ways, it’s SoCal vibes, but the number of instruments and their placement in layers, throws in a modern dub style. “Desert Drifter” sounds like Spy From Cairo, drenched in Middle Eastern flare. “Dubbers” is more restrained, but still polished. As per the name, it settles into a meditative groove while splintering horns dance around over it.
The instrumentals are definitely better than the songs with vocals, simply because Alific’s mastery is in compositions, not his voice. But his love of hip-hop and his positive messages, often centered around a short narrative of some kind, work well for what he’s doing here- the best of which is “Soul DJ”. “You can’t kill the vibe so strong/ If it feels this good/ it can’t be wrong… If you don’t know the words/ just hum along… Singing ooh-la-la-la.” I’ve critiqued this kind of lyricism before, but for Alific the old school rapping style matches the fun, exploratory energy of Electric Radio overall.
Really, this album contains no categorically bad songs. The invitation to dance, sing along, and blast the bass loudly is evident at ever juncture. A tuned in ear can pay attention to how much care has gone in to tweaking and mixing these sounds, many of them performed by Alific himself. You don’t have to like reggae to like this album, but if you do, you’ll note the Stick Figure and The Movement influences (especially on “Wilmington Jam”, featuring J Smiles from The Movement). Then again, perhaps it’s a bidirectional affect. I’m sure Alific, with all his skill, has expanded the horizons of those he’s played with. For now, though, Electric Radio is his own, an interesting, funky, upbeat party album. Who could say no to that?
Fiji had always been a lovers rock mystic, and as I never much cared for the subgenre, I never got into the Polynesian soul-man who was born in Fiji and moved to Hawaii (hence his name). For various reasons, I’ve now come into contact with lovers rock with an open ear. So, listening through the epic Collection: 50th State Of Mind I realized what I’d been missing. And clearly, what Fiji mapped out artists like J Boog and The Green have followed.
Now, Fiji does suffer from love song cliché, and several songs out of 50 fall to the wayside- cheesy, corny, ridiculous lyrics over uninspired and sparse reggae instrumentation. In these moments, the only thing that saves the songs are Fiji’s incredible, impeccable voice, as on “Riddim of Life”, where he suggests, “I start to think/ if we only knew/ making love is like a honeydew.” Oh, seriously?
That being said, we have a lot of songs to work with here. Two discs’ worth of unreleased singles, hits, and more, this collection is able to span a career and an amazing amount of talent. All the songs hang on tight musical precision, even when the love song lyrics get in the way. Take “Sweet Darlin’”, “Did You Know”, and “Come On Over”. All these songs are sexy, sexy tracks. Close your eyes and you can see the island winds tussling the silk curtains on the veranda overlooking the evening ocean. He really paints a picture.
Disc II reserves space for the more political and spiritual side of Fij. On “Warrior of Love”- a fantastic track- he croons, “The people need a little love sometimes… It’s the kind that one would share brother to brother.” Then, on “Rise and Stand” Fiji offers one of his most roots reggae songs: “We are fighting for our rights now/ because there’s too much corruption in the world today.” It’s heady and fierce. “We Don’t Roll” packs a punch and is one of my favorites on the album: “We don’t roll with backbiters.”
Plus, songs like “Smokin Session”, “Why You”, “Inemlament”, and “Stone Cold” are classics.
So many of the songs contain perfectly constructed vocal harmonies, Fiji’s rollicking baritone, and a groove that’s too succinct to ignore. Also, sometimes props must be given to the masters, and some people build careers on love songs because they’re great at making them, not because they’re doing something original. Fiji is a master, down to the last of all the songs, “Satisfied”. He simply breathes: “Breakfast in bed with champagne/ You’re the reason why/ making love is a beautiful thing.”
Yuck. Only, he owns it. And I find myself hearing the songs of Collection: 50th State Of Mind replaying in my head. I find myself rushing to the stereo to put on a groove that’s been itching me all day. So, there’s something timeless and awesome about Fiji and about this collection. Don’t be afraid to fall in deep.
Some contemporary reggae has balanced respect for the old school while sculpting the elements into a sleek, 21st century sound. Others have started here and infused the music with anything from R&B to rap. Others seem passionate about the melodies and vocal harmonies reggae introduced and highlighted since its infancy and don’t break the mold. For Peace Band dances in this latter space, and their latest, Always Love (Rootfire Collective, 2018), is steadfast in approach and execution, making for something that is at once beautiful and, at times, lackluster.
Hailing from Guam, this quartet is dropping their second LP four years after their first, enough time for some touring, meeting many in the industry, and being inspired throughout it all. First and foremost, the band pays attention to their instrumentation. They don’t seem concerned with paving new sonic roads, and save for the well-utilized strings on “Chance To Grow”, the guitar melodies are more textural than exciting, and overall the music is steeped in minor keys and ballad-like compositions. No anthems or party songs here.
Unfortunately, the love songs fall victim to Lovers Rock cliché. “Be Alright” is especially uninspired. I favor “Rarest Flower”, steeped in a sexy pocket groove, but the chorus “My life belongs to you” is a pretty heavy thought when you really think about it, suggesting that the band considers how they sing it more important than what they sing. “Secret Recipe” is wicked fun, fast-paced in delivery and catchy in execution. But lyrics like, “Touching everything/ to create some peace and harmony”is trite, as is, “Turn around and fill my cup.”
Then there are the songs falling in the middle somewhere. “Got To Try”, “Chatty Mouth”, and “Judgment Day” are all good,groovy vibes, but they are also nothing especially For Peace Band. They could have been written by anybody.
One of the album’s best, “Move Out Of Babylon”, has an intensity and spiritual warrior quality, drenched in a simple, heavy bassline. “Kidnapping children on the side of the road/ Thieves in the night coming through the window,” and the verses are some of the best on the album. “Jah Guide” is also richly plated and served hot: “We’re making a commitment/ inspired by each thing we do… It’s time to show the world how we love/ and not lose patience planting the seed.” Boom. Plus, the slinky chorus, “G-U-I-D-E”, spelled out just like that, is different and fun.
Always Love sounds contemporary- thematically and in production- and as a sign of the times it’s a well-tuned, conscious, meditative set of tracks from a talented band, and even though this review may have been critical, overall, I really enjoy this album and recommend it for roots reggae fans.
The issue with the folk revival is that we as listeners- since about 2009- have become saturated with artists. Beyond that, the style allows for a large amount of leniency in what constitutes “good” or “listenable”: Throw some open chords, an easy bass line, and some vocal harmonies into the pot and it’s pretty easy to bob your head to. This has made me weary of new folk artists, as there are many of them not saying much at all.
Jamil Apostol, however, has something fresh, that sort of musician who hops trains, sleeps a night in a field somewhere, and is just as happy playing to three people in a living as to a stadium- perhaps more so.
Does anyone remember Medicine For The People’s first album, On The Verge? Few contemporary fans probably do, but Nahko and crew started out with a lo-fi album robustly integrating a lot of spirit into some Appalachian-style instrumentation, replete with trumpet. I don’t think Off The Beaten Path foretells Jamil hitting Nahko highs, but I would say that there are parallels. I would also say that, as far as Americana goes, this album is better than many, even some large name acts.
Overall, I’m not the biggest fan of this kind of music. Not that I don’t appreciate it, but it sort of slips below my radar rather easily, so I took my time with Apostol’s work. “My Red White Blues” wins best track award. It’s political, no doubt about that. “Why would you ask for change/ when you can have a bill?” he asks. “Reload, replenish/ pop!/ One shot kills.” It’s just him and his guitar. The song would make Woody Guthrie proud, just a fierce, vocal performance.
“Homeless Romantic” is similar, lyrics rocketing forth over minimal instrumentation, and just as political. “Full Beaver Moon” adds pretty harmonica over finger-picked guitar and Jamil’s distinct alto dings, “Creatures of habit are at it again… As the dove sings her song.” It’s just vague enough to drum up myriad imagery. He often does this, mixing narrative with introspection.
The title track begins with eerie banjo and Jamil offering, “Started as a dream… All the leaves are falling/ into different directions.” The song discusses life and death. Had he added grandiose strings and fiery percussion, this would sound like a Sujan Stevens B-side.
But part of what makes Off The Beaten Path fancy-free is its sparsity and articulated use of instruments, as well as Jamil knowing his voice well, throwing it around at ideal points. The songs have a lot of heart, and even when the content is heavy the melodies are light, (take the sing-a-long aspect of “Open Ticket Ride”). Taking something classic, something traditional, and adding enough pizzazz to make it unique is quite a task. Fans of this “scene” will enjoy Jamil’s talent and the execution of this lively, colorful album.
For Peace Band has been working hard since their inception. “RJ” Pereira (guitar and vocals), Freddy Boradllo (drums and vocals), Jacob Iosia (keyboards and vocals), and Danton Cruz (bass) hail from Guam, although their sound is steeped in both roots reggae and progressive styles from Hawaii and SoCal. For the ninth annual California Roots Festival in Monterey, CA, For Peace Band took the stage alongside Cali natives Iya Terra for the Saturday night after party.
The following day, a steadily warming Pacific coast afternoon stretches over the Monterey Fairgrounds as I meet up with Chris Santos, the band’s tour manager, RJ, and Freddy. The three greet me graciously. They carry calmness, focus, and politeness as we sit to talk about the timing of their performance, just before the July 27th release of their album, Always Love, drops.
Did you play anywhere else here at Cali Roots, other than the after party?
RJ: Well, we did that acoustic jam session at the Rootfire tent. That was new for us. We don’t do acoustic too much.
Freddy: We try and do that at home, more acoustic.
Do you live near each other back home?
RJ: Oh yeah! We all live, like ten minutes from one another.
I love this festival, to hear about new people or finally see bands I’ve heard about, like you.
RJ: Like, “Who’s that guy? What’s his name again? Xiuhtezcatl?” [Laughs]
Freddy: I liked seeing Atmosphere and Chronixx.
So, you’ve been here all weekend?
RJ: Since Thursday.
Chris: This is right where we want to be.
Freddy: The biggest fest I ever went to. Like, wait: there’s all my favorite artists here, like- in one day? [Laughs]
Chris: It’s been a long time coming that a Guam band performed here. This is, like, a right of passage.
When does your new album come out?
Chris: July 27th.
RJ: We released “Rarest Flower”. What did you think of that track?
I liked it. It had a lot of space in it. It reminded me of-
RJ: Like, Roots Radics. Like, pop and smooth.
Oh, wow. Yeah! I was thinking the Sierra Leone Refugee All Stars.
RJ: Who?
They play a lot of African and reggae style stuff. I can hear similarities.
RJ: We wanted to do it like Gregory Isaacs, like “Cool Ruler”, which is so pocket.
He understood sparsity.
RJ: Oh yeah. Like Arise Roots a little too.
Yeah!
Freddy: We’re doing a tour with them, too! [Laughs]
Your new record is being released by the Rootsfire Cooperative record label. How did you get hooked up with Rootfire?
RJ: Reid [Foster] was generous with the opportunity.
How did you meet Reid?
Freddy: Steve Donovan.
Chris: The way it all happened was, we met Donovan in Denver at a couple of shows, and while we were kicking back, he came to talk to us. The first conversation was just, like, “Yeah, you guys are good.” Then, the next tour with The Expanders, and we’re back in Denver. He shows up again. He said he saw us on an Instagram story. He wanted to see what we could do together. And then through them we met Rootfire and Reid Foster. We ended up having a killer conversation with [Reid], getting inspired.
Those connections are what this is all about.
Chris: When we come out here we’re able to link to cool and new people.
RJ: Bands we haven’t seen in a long time.
When did you start coming to the U.S. to start touring?
Freddy: 2015.
Chris: Our first tour in Hawaii.
RJ: Then we came up here with Josh [Heinrichs].
Freddy: There were two tours. The first one was with Fortunate Youth, not Josh.
Chris: Hmm…
RJ: Hmm…
[Laughs] A lot of touring, hunh?
Chris: It’s been three years and six tours. Really, a shout out to Fortunate Youth. They were the ones who really helped us out, believing in us.
RJ: Even touring in general, they showed us the ropes. We met a lot of people through them. We were ironically fans of each other. [Laughs]
Chris: I mean, for me, it’s like, when we were in New York and people were singing the lyrics.
Freddy: I stopped singing and they were there singing!
What’s the reggae scene like in Guam?
RJ: It’s rough, man. There is a lot of talent. The love for reggae music is there. But as for writing your own stuff, no. There’s more of a jam sesh, like backyard stuff.
Freddy: There’s a few bands out there.
Chris: There are a lot of musicians, but we’re the first ones to do it right for reggae. And that’s all because of R.J. and Freddy. Because of this, we’ve gotten to work with so many people who look out for us.
RJ: And they all believe in us! That’s the motivation, really! Like, “We just got here,” and they’re like, “Cool! Let’s go!” [Laughs]
Fast, heavy, and fun. These are words that describe a Tropidelic set. The band comes from Ohio, but the influences are very west coastal, pulling on the punk, reggae, and hip-hop legends such as 311 and Dirty Heads, bringing their own style with them.
For the ninth annual Cali Roots festival, Tropidelic was the opening band, (the first of 35 acts!). This is a bold undertaking for the band, who has been around for a while now, but are just beginning to tour hard and make themselves known. On stage, their energy is explosive, ricocheting between genres, engaging the audience, and beautifully mixing heavy music with lightheartedness.
As it turns out, they are also incredibly kind and gracious human beings. I was lucky enough to sit down with lead guitarist Bobby Chronic and lead singer Matt Roads (who goes by Roads). The following is a little history of the band and a little taste of their appeal:
You started everything off here at Cali Roots.
Bobby Chronic: It was a hell of an honor.
Matt Roads: Our thing is to give it all we have in terms of energy.
And you’re from Cleveland. What’s the scene like in Cleveland?
Roads: You’re looking at it [Laughs] It started for us as, “Let’s do something different,” because there’s not a lot of that going on. The jam band scene is big, like in the northeast. But in terms of reggae, not a whole lot going on. We’ve been lucky enough to forefront the scene.
Bobby: We have a lot of friends on the east coast, too, the wider you get, there’s a lot of good people.
Do you have a favorite place to play in Ohio?
Roads: Grog Shop is our home base, in our neighborhood.
Bobby: It’s an old punk bar kind of place.
Do you tour a lot?
Bobby: All the time. We’ll be out, maybe, 200 days this year.
I noticed the LAW Records and Passafire shirts on stage. Are you connected with them?
Roads: We’re on LAW Records, which is Pepper’s label. And we’re just fans of Passafire. We’d love to tour with them.
I think the sounds like a good match up.
Roads: Us too! [Laughs] I’ve listened to Passafire since I went to college, and the Submersible record did some shit to me. It’s amazing.
Yeah, like them, I think labeling your music is hard. It’s all over the place, but in a consistent way.
Bobby: I think that’s one of the best compliments we’ve gotten.
Roads: Thanks, man.
Bobby: It’s been a process over the last five or six years, kind of nailing down the eclectic individuality and putting together into one cohesive sound.
Did people come from different musical backgrounds?
Bobby: I used to go watch local shows when I was fresh out of high school. It snowballed, me being around enough and people being like, “We need a guitarist,” and I’m like, “Hell yeah! I need a band!” [Laughs]
You have a really dynamic style.
Bobby: It’s the only thing I’m good at. [Laughs]
Roads: The scene we have is tight knit, so you make connections quickly, too.
That’s how I feel here at this festival, and the audience has a lot of personal connections to the musicians.
Bobby: It’s badass.
Roads: We haven’t been out here much; hoping to get our feet wet. We just did San Diego. We’ll be playing Huntington Beach, and then coming out here on the Ballyhoo! tour. We got a splinter van and did a week or so in Colorado, playing with Wookiefoot. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them.
Only by name.
Bobby: They’re awesome.
Roads: They’re kind of like us, in the sense that it’s hip-hop, jam, reggae… but all very positive. They have a die hard fan base. They’re mostly in the midwest, from Minneapolis.
Bobby: Super cultured band. They switch costumes. They have a whole show.
Roads: A Pfunk sort of show.
Are you able to see other music?
Bobby: We’re leaving late tomorrow afternoon, to get to the next gig.
Roads: I’m psyched for Atmosphere tonight. 311 is one of our all time favorite bands too.
Anything you want to readers to know about?
Roads: Connect on our socials. It’s all about Spotify now.
Bobby: Spotfy is convenient, so organized and easy to find what you’re looking for.
They don’t pay, though, do they?
Roads: They do… It’s something like 1500 plays equals the same amount as a download. It’s a different world; Spotify has a strong control on the market.
Bobby: So different from when we were kids. Like, you could buy CDs or give your mom’s computer a virus because you’re downloading something. [Laughs]
Back in 2016 two friends of mine, Seth Herman and Curtis Bergesen, sent me an album from their newest addition to the Rootfire family, Hirie. I’d heard “Sensi Boy’ before and loved the hook, but was unsure about her overall. That was ignorance. I’ve since become a fan to the singer who claims Hawaii as her home, but who has lived all over the world. Her mix of cultures and ethnicity, accentuated by her charisma and undeniable physical beauty, makes her a powerful force in reggae music.
This interview was a long time coming. She’s as fun, soulful, and courageous in real life as she seems in her songs, and I’m grateful to present some of her story here:
JP: I feel like you’re a Cali Roots institution, a very busy and active person here.
Hirie: I feel like this is the mecca of what we have, so you have to milk that as much as possible. I love Cali Roots.
JP: I was here three years ago and you were interviewing everyone.
Hirie: Oh, that year? Oh wow, it’s way different in here. I was interviewing Trevor Hall. It was orange in here.
JP: My first interview here was Trevor Hall, and I was out of it, and he’s so chill that we had a few minutes of just chilling.
Hirie: I interviewed him here right when he had to shave his head. He’s super vegan, I guess. You can’t bring meat on his bus. That’s really cool. But I love meat. My daughter came up to me the other day and she was like, “You know, Mom, I feel bad for eating animals sometimes… But they taste so good!” I was like, “It is tough. Bacon!” I’ve been getting into veggies lately. I never had veggies as a kid. I’m trying things for the first time, three years eating vegetables.
JP: What’s your favorite veggie?
Hirie: I love brussel sprouts, fried, with pancetta, you know, bacon. I love cooking. Broccolini is cool. I’m learning how much easier it is to eat than broccoli. My husband steams [broccoli] with sesame oil and salt, like Asian style. It’s dank. Ooh. New one: Fennel. He broils it with olive oil, balsamic, salt, and vinegar. He bakes it until it’s crispy.
JP: When you’re cookbook comes out we’ll look for the fennel recipe.
Hirie: I am making a cookbook! I do a lot of food posts. I love cooking. My husband and I are taking it on as a couples project. Having grown up everywhere, it’s a clusterfuck, like my father’s Shepard’s pie, or ausobuco from Italy… If I’m home I’ll cook all three meals. I don’t cut corners. I start from scratch. It’s nice to be home for that.
JP: Are you home a lot? You’ve been pushing hard these past few years.
Hirie: We slept in our apartment I think 20 days out of 2018. Before we found this place we were homeless because of that reason, like, “We’re not paying rent!” When we came home we crashed at our friends’ places, but that got old because you get home from tour and you’re still living out of a suitcase. For a year and a half! My daughter had no toys. We’d go to the storage unit and she’d try to milk it as much as possible. She loved it; she forgot. It was a luxury to play with toys.
JP: You wrote a song for your daughter.
Hirie: She’s around, with my dad. They only thing missing here was that they were going to do a daycare for the parents, but they didn’t.
JP: You’ve performed here quite often at this festival.
Hirie: It’s been five years in a row.
JP: Wait, did you play here three years ago?
Hirie: I did. I did five years in a row, but the after party, or the acoustic pop-up, or like the acoustic Bowl. Even when they don’t invite us, I email them and say, “If you need anything, we’re available.” Because, you know, this is it! If you’re here, it means something.
JP: The guest appearances so far have been amazing, even people who aren’t performing.
Hirie: I’ve never seen 311, either!
JP: Anyone else throughout the years that you’d never gotten to see before this festival?
Hirie: Tash Sultana. I’ve been dying to see her play. And her girlfriend was a fan of ours before she even met Tash, and so it all came full circle. I thought that was really cool.
JP: I want to thank you for bringing Nattali Rize out.
Hirie: She’s become, like, a friend! That’s the good thing about touring.
JP: She’s on your record [Wandering Soul], too.
Hirie: But I didn’t even know her when she was on my record. I just really wanted a chick! I had some names, but she was the most unique, so when I asked her she was down. So it was a pre-tour friendship.
JP: I love that you represent the feminine power in this scene.
Hirie: We’re very lucky.
JP: I was thinking about that for you. You could easily go total pop and reach a larger audience, but you’re sticking with reggae.
Hirie: I can remember those being some of the words in the review that you did [of Wandering Soul], like, “She could easily be this!” As a bucket list goal, it would be to have a song that crossed into mainstream and people would be like, “Damn!” You know when MAGIC! did “Rude”, but their problem was they came out with a major hit, but then the rest of their music was… They don’t know what they’re doing- a mixture. So, they never fit into the reggae community and the pop community only knew them for one reggae song. What I would love to do is be reggae and have one song that crossed, and then people say it’s dope and want to come listen to reggae music.
JP: That’s how I feel about Brandi Carlile.
Hirie: Oh yeah: “All of these lines that cross my face!” She’s got that song “Shadow On The Wall”. She’s hella rock.
JP: What are you into other than reggae?
Hirie: I grew up with a lot of Gypsy Kings, and Enya, and Norah Jones. I lived in Italy, so a lot of Andrea Bocelli and Pavarotti. I love it all; that’s why we’re such a clusterfuck on stage.
JP: I love your band.
Hirie: They’re good players. They come from the weirdest backgrounds: metal, jazz, funk, and church… Now we’re learning to tone down and have moments, versus being like, bang bang bang! Throw out all the cards right away, which I love! But we’re learning to pull back.
JP: Who have you learned from over the years?
Hirie: So many bands, obviously. Tribal Seeds, the way of their energy, the way the musicians amplify the set, and the heavy rock side I love. And Slightly Stoopid are a jam band, good at improvising, and putting a lot of effort into something but having it come out like butter. Or even Pato Banton. We copy his dance moves a lot. His show is so tight.
JP: Alpha Blondy made me wicked happy this year.
Hirie: I haven’t scene Alpha Blondy before, but Stick Figure does a cover of “Cocody Rock”, and I get to sing “What’s Going On” [by the Four None Blondes] in there because it’s the same riddim. It’s so cool! Closer To The Sun, we’ll be there this year.
JP: I was just talking about that festival.
Hirie: So, you know Seth [Herman] and Curtis [Bergesen]?
JP: I met Curtis first. He was touring with Giant Panda Guerilla Dub Squad. I just met the band at a show.
Hirie: He’s cool. We didn’t have have a great start. It was the dumbest thing ever: I’d never met him and he’s so tall and intimidating. I was at the first Cali Roots and these fans came up and said, “Can we get a picture with you?” So I was like, “Excuse me; will you take a picture?” And I didn’t realize he was in a conversation, and I was just trying to grab the closest person. And he was like, “I’m sorry. Let me stop my conversation right now to take your picture. Please, smile.” He was such a dick. [Laughs] And I was like, “The fans!” It doesn’t even matter about me, but don’t make them feel bad. Then I told my husband, and he told Seth, and Seth told Curtis, and I was so embarrassed. It was the worst tattle tale. He had to apologize and he said, “That’s just who I am.” I said, “You’re an asshole.” Then we became the best of friends! I love his new collage page. I forget that it’s him. I see it and think, “Sick!”
JP: When you get asked on stage, do you freestyle?
Sometimes.
JP: Are you good at it?
Hirie: No. It’s so scary. Yesterday, Fortunate Youth asked me to jump on their set and said, “Sing Gonzo’s part on ‘Sweet Love’,” and I was like, “Yeah!” Then I had to fucking run and find reception because I had no reception and couldn’t find the lyrics or watch the video on YouTube. I was five songs away from having to sing it, and am in the production office borrowing an iPad, recording the video onto my phone and writing it on my hand. Then I’m at the Bowl, singing the song for the first time!
JP: [Laughs] I love Fortunate Youth.
Hirie: I learned a lot from them. They don’t take anything too seriously and that really allows the audience to feel comfortable. It’s usually a shit show, in a good way, on tour with them. I crawl onto stage after being blackout drunk, like two songs before my feature. And then Dan [Kelly] is just like, “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” like, way too comfortable. Do you notice that about him? He’s got that look to him. You know his story with Fortunate Youth? He was a plumber, and he’d go to open mics and they were already a band. They saw him and said, “Do you want to join and sing?” I think it was a side thing for him at first. And he was in his 30s. He never thought it’d be like it is now. He’s got two daughters and most of the songs are about them, so when you pick at his songs… Some of the words are just too much for me. His music is strong willed.
JP: I appreciate that the scene is big and supportive. I love coming from the east coast and seeing what it’s like out here.
Hirie: [Sigh] The musicians that come out of the east coast are superior in a way because everyone is so trained and has a great ear. Out here it’s hooky and catchy, but can be sloppy. You can hear the difference between the east and west. The west gets a lot more attention and it’s more of a party scene and everyone is really open. On the east coast it’s niche, but refined: John Brown’s Body, Giant Panda, The Hip Abduction…
JP: What’s it like for you to walk out on stage and see so many people?
Hirie: It’s overwhelming, for sure. There’s so much pressure. You want to put in everything you can.
JP: I play at a local cafe and when there are eight people there I think, “There are too many people here!”
Hirie: Those can be way more intimidating because here you can’t stare at one face, but in a crowd of eight you’re really dissecting their emotions, like, “He’s not watching!” You start to worry. I love that, though.
JP: And here at Cali Roots you’re on all the time.
Hirie: It’s a good thing. It’s in my nature to seek out conversation. I notice how much harder it is than it used to be to just flow through and hang out with friends at a festival like this. I can’t walk from point A to point B… But reggae is different, so loving. Like, Tash being able to say, “If any of you are homophobic, get the fuck out of here.” To be able to say that now and not hear “Boo!” and nothing is thrown… And we had E-40 and Atmosphere.
JP: I’d never seen him live.
Hirie: I remember Zion I one year killing it. I like that they mix hip-hop with reggae; they go good together. Hip-hop is so conscious- at least, old school hip-hop. Tash’s biggest song is reggae. A lot of pop artists come out with a reggae song that smashes. So, it’s like, “Fuck! Why can’t a reggae artist smash a song and be pop for a minute!”
JP: What’s it like on your end, coming to this festival?
Hirie: Oh, man. Production is always nice! We get lucky with good vibes. So, going to a super dark place from where we are right now, there was one point yesterday that somebody was talking to me, looking a little wonky. They reached into their bag for their cellphone or something, but with everything going on I stepped back thinking, “This is it!” Because as a musician you’re constantly in the face of potential danger these days. The statistics say more students have died from gunshots than anybody in the military this year. There are more child fatalities in schools than the war! The student reached in and it was his phone, but I had that feeling in my gut. I thought, “What a shitty world to live in. Do I run? Do I charge?”
JP: You’ve got quite the fan base. Do you have any creepy fans?
Hirie: I mean, maybe, but not really, nothing I’m worried about.
JP: You put out a new single, “Sun and Shine”, with a cool music video, with Nahko in it. Are you two friends?
Hirie: We’re of the same Filipino bloodline. He’s been here. I missed it! He’s awkward too. He’s good at breaking the ice and helping awkward moments. I’ve seen him in the middle of a conversation start picking his nose.
JP: Getting into your music spoke to me because we come from such different backgrounds, but some of music resonates on a deep level.
Hirie: This one painter told me that when he paints it’s not even him; he doesn’t know what he’s painting. The strokes just come out. He said he never had any plans for what he was about to paint. I feel like when I write songs. I don’t think about what I’m writing, I just put it down. Then I read it back later and go, “Damn… That’s not me! I would have never said that!” You have to flow and not expect anything.
JP: What was the first song you wrote?
Hirie: Ever? It was called “A Place For You In My Heart” [Laughs] It was real cheese. Still my dad’s favorite.
JP: When you started singing, was it reggae music?
Hirie: I always thought I’d do more alternative, like Michelle Branch and Paramore, and Evanencese. But I always wrote with a skank. I love reggae.
Freddy: The biggest fest I ever went to. Like, wait: there’s all my favorite artists here, like- in one day? 
Roads: Us too! [Laughs] I’ve listened to Passafire since I went to college, and the Submersible record did some shit to me. It’s amazing.
Bobby: Super cultured band. They switch costumes. They have a whole show.
Hirie: He’s cool. We didn’t have have a great start. It was the dumbest thing ever: I’d never met him and he’s so tall and intimidating. I was at the first Cali Roots and these fans came up and said, “Can we get a picture with you?” So I was like, “Excuse me; will you take a picture?” And I didn’t realize he was in a conversation, and I was just trying to grab the closest person. And he was like, “I’m sorry. Let me stop my conversation right now to take your picture. Please, smile.” He was such a dick. [Laughs] And I was like, “The fans!” It doesn’t even matter about me, but don’t make them feel bad. Then I told my husband, and he told Seth, and Seth told Curtis, and I was so embarrassed. It was the worst tattle tale. He had to apologize and he said, “That’s just who I am.” I said, “You’re an asshole.” Then we became the best of friends! I love his new collage page. I forget that it’s him. I see it and think, “Sick!” 
before my feature. And then Dan [Kelly] is just like, “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” like, way too comfortable. Do you notice that about him? He’s got that look to him. You know his story with Fortunate Youth? He was a plumber, and he’d go to open mics and they were already a band. They saw him and said, “Do you want to join and sing?” I think it was a side thing for him at first. And he was in his 30s. He never thought it’d be like it is now. He’s got two daughters and most of the songs are about them, so when you pick at his songs… Some of the words are just too much for me. His music is strong willed.
for their cellphone or something, but with everything going on I stepped back thinking, “This is it!” Because as a musician you’re constantly in the face of potential danger these days. The statistics say more students have died from gunshots than anybody in the military this year. There are more child fatalities in schools than the war! The student reached in and it was his phone, but I had that feeling in my gut. I thought, “What a shitty world to live in. Do I run? Do I charge?” 
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