Australia has been quiet lately. As far as rock & roll is concerned, the land down under has nearly become a forgotten continent to stateside fans, with only native sons Silverchair having made a substantial dent in the Billboard charts in the mid-’90s. Even the much-hailed Powderfinger couldn’t build a large fanbase in America. Considering how popular Australian acts were in the U.S. during the ’80s – everyone from Rick Springfield to Men at Work to INXS – it’s unfortunate to see so much talent from there now overlooked. One of them is singer/songwriter Adrian Rosenfeldt, whose blue-collar retro rock is reminiscent of Lou Reed and his contemporaries.

Alison Murphy: Your music rings like a nostalgic echo of pub rockers of the late ’70s – Elvis Costello and Graham Parker easily come to mind. How did your style come about?

Adrian Rosenfeldt: Playing in pubs in Melbourne for too long. My hearing is pretty shot. The sound of someone playing the drums feels like a cantankerous giant smashing plates on my head. This has forced me to capture the energy and feel of the live performance, without actually playing with a full band. Before I recorded White Man I played a lot of acoustic gigs. I then recorded the songs live with just vocals and guitar. It was all done pretty quickly. I carried the same line of thinking over to the overdubs. One or two takes and that’s it. And I think you can hear and feel that; an organ comes in here, a bass line appears there. But the
main criteria in writing a song was, “Is it catchy?” And “Why have only one decent hook when you can have three?” Obviously the young Elvis Costello saw the importance of this; that is before he got
aboard Sting’s jazz/lute/”I am a serious artist” slumbering train.

Murphy: How long have you been a musician? In the beginning, were you already striving for the sound you have on White Man?

Rosenfeldt: In 1987 I was fifteen years old when I played my first gig with my band, Waxing The Sun. We played what you could call the Woodstock of North Balwyn in my parents’ back park. If you haven’t heard of North Balwyn you are not alone. We used about ten extension cords to run electricity out to the park. It was Saturday afternoon, and the crowd was a little on the small side, mainly women and children. Actually,
there were a lot of older women there: women on the pension. And there were quite a few dogs running around. But it was a good vibe, and I think the music went down well with the people who were passing
through. It was a little raw, but it certainly wasn’t punk. Some people stayed and watched for a while. There were swings and things. Because of my hearing problems, for the first three solo releases after Waxing The Sun I used a lot of acoustic instruments, especially cello, piano and guitar. So White Man was a return to what I used to do with the band in some ways, except this time i am playing all the instruments on my own. After doing the acoustic stuff it was good to get some swing back into the music, and to get things punchy again. But you might have noticed that the sound is still pretty sparse. I think people are sick of being beaten over the head with a hedgerow of distorted guitars.

Murphy: What is the story behind “Dirty Daze”?

Rosenfeldt: It sounds a bit sinister, doesn’t it? I would say loving and sinister. It’s a love song after all. In Australia recently there have been a lot of articles in the papers about teachers who have gone astray.
It’s the same story every time. A male teacher in his thirties gets involved with a precocious 16 or 17-year-old female pupil, their relationship becomes public, he loses his job, his family and wife are appalled, and everyone wonders why he did it. The teacher becomes a social pariah. I am not condoning it. There is a trust
between a teacher and a pupil that should never be abused. But young girls can be so provocative, and some responsible men can have moments of weakness. “Dirty Daze” is from the viewpoint of one of these
teachers. He fantasizes about a relationship outside of space and time, where there are no outraged bystanders. “I’ll take to you my grand estate and at every ball we’ll make them wait.” This is his dream. To be somewhere like the Russian aristocracy in the 19th century, where someone like Count Leo Tolstoy could marry a 15-year-old and no one would bat an eyelid.

Murphy: You’re from Australia, once a musical hotbed in the ’80s. What is the rock & roll scene like there now?

Rosenfeldt: Melbourne is and has always been great for live music. There are heaps of places to play. So many cafés and bars have a set up for small bands or acoustic artists – which is good for me. And there are still plenty of venues for bands playing original music. But the problem is that we have lost the freak element. There are too many good-looking guys and girls who are as compelling as wallpaper blowing in a tepid breeze. The lead singers of the late seventies and early ’80s had that Australian convict outsider mentality; that has all but been lost. Think of Peter Garrett, Jimmy Barnes, Bon Scott, Chrissie Amphlett, and Angry Anderson. Not attractive looking people. And they could never be called cool. They were as rough as the Australian landscape and absolutely mesmerizing to watch. You just don’t see something like Peter Garrett’s dance anymore. And this is a great pity.

Murphy: I once read that playing bars was tough in Australia. If you didn’t kick ass, the crowd would tear you down from the stage. Is this an exaggeration or is there an element of truth in it?

Rosenfeldt: Well, I think playing live is tough anywhere. I lived in London for two years and didn?t find it too different. What I think is a good thing in Australia, is that the audience will not accept pretentiousness. That is probably why Nick Cave had to go overseas to be respected. From what I have seen elsewhere, audiences are much more open to musicians having a bit of a wank on stage. But in Australia you have to deliver the raw goods. That’s why bands like AC/DC, Midnight Oil, and Cold Chisel were so toxic. They had to be. No one’s
particularly interested in your grandiose vision, or your latest concept. If the music doesn’t hit you in the belly and the spine, forget it. And isn’t that what rock & roll is all about? On White Man you could say that my raison d’etre is to give the belly and the spine a good seeing to.

http://www.adrianrosenfeldt.com

The Crossroads Band/Crossroads

The Crossroads Band make it look easy, concocting a stirring brew of steak-house blues and red-state Americana, then giving it a classic-rock finish. This is the type of back-to-the-roots acts you used to find on the FM band during the glory days of AOR radio, kindred spirits of Poco and the Eagles but with a yen for Robert Johnson and B.B. King. The blues side of the Crossroads Band originates mostly from the scorching leads of guitarist Ben Ribble. On “Free Man” and “Stranded,” Ribble strangles his axe with intoxicating solos. His riffs are clean yet fiesty.

Often groups such as this make the mistake of cooking their goodies too raw or adding too much sauce to the mix. The Crossroads Band have found the center, showing us how they can stomp the floor with your ass but keeping the tunes as melodic and hook-filled as they can be. The Stevie Ray Vaughan-like “You Broke Me” is among the highlights, beer-soaked blues at its most cathartic and transcendent. Tony Merando has a voice that is smoother and more attractive than what you normally expect from this genre. On “Time Slips Away,” Merando has us completely moved, making our hearts tap this time and not just our feet.

http://www.crossrdsband.com

Yves Villeneuve/The Chorus Man

From the brief Jim Morrison-ish spoken-word intro to The Chorus Man, you can anticipate a more downbeat record, which is exactly what singer/songwriter Yves Villeneuve delivers here. With a husky, enigmatic voice recalling Michael Stipe of R.E.M.’s early days, Villeneuve prepares us for a snowy winter with a selection of moody, sometimes bitter tunes. The brooding psychedelia of “See River Flow (North)” reverberates with the ominous melodrama of Thin White Rope. “You treat me like dog dirt,” Villeneuve spits on “Down On Two Knees” as ragged riffs scrape the walls.

Sonically Villeneuve takes a mostly minimalist approach as his guitars and vocals push the songs forward; there’s plenty of repetition in the lyrics and notes as well. But the hooks do stick even though the venom and sense of despair might be overwhelming to some. This is not happy, pretty-boy stuff; Villeneuve walks on the same bleak corners as the Doors once did, tying together a bracing match of blues and indie rock.

http://www.yvesvilleneuve.com

Country musician Angela Siracusa has a sweet, unforgettable voice that is hard to forget. Her latest album Drawn to the Flame includes a variety of songs about remembering a past love and reminiscing about the memories permanently etched in one’s mind. In “Train Ride,” we can hear a sense of longing from a past loved one, and her delightful vocal and musical gifts. Listening to Siracusa’s songs, we can see her listening to her heart, writing her songs, and contemplating on her newest masterpiece. The cover of “Call Me,” originally by Blondie, is a refreshing song to listen to by Siracusa. We can see that she is a multi-talented musician who can sing more than one style of music; she has definitely made this song her own. Along with many in her album, Siracusa is a musician that is shaking up country music.

Catherine Spencer: Your music reveals the influence of old and new country. Which of the two do you feel more of a connection with?

Angela Siracusa: There is nothing like the traditional greats. I see it like this, the old is the root and the new is the fruit. With that being said, I feel a connection with both old and new. My creativity and ability to turn old into new and make it my own, is what I think I’ve done and it is what I love to do.

Spencer: Do you feel that country music has become increasingly focused on the physical attractiveness of its artists than in previous decades?

Siracusa: Being physically attractive has always been a part of marketing any artist. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder so what I think is an ideal body or face may be completely different from the person down the street. Although it seems being good-looking has become far too important in modern country music. I feel that music itself and personality will always prevail in the end, despite image. I don’t buy music because I like the way someone looks; I buy music because I like the way it sounds! The eye candy is not offensive as long as the music is good.

Spencer: What was it like opening for Sammy Kershaw?

Siracusa: The venue, staging, and lighting were top-notch and so was the treatment for us opening acts. Sammy was gracious and took time to meet us all. It was a successful evening of meet and greet.  Sammy’s fiddle player, Paul Kramer, will be joining me on The Billy Block Show in Nashville.

Spencer: You have a slick music video, a sharp website, and a professionally produced and packaged CD. Do you think there is even a need for a record label at this point for driven independent artists such as yourself?

Siracusa: The one aspect of being signed to a label that I’d love to benefit from is their superior distribution abilities. Unfortunately, most labels don’t support tours like they used to so other than the distribution, I’ll keep with the indie until the opportunity arises.

Spencer: You were a winner at the 2008 Niagara Music Awards. What advice would you give to younger country artists who are trying to accomplish feats such as that?

Siracusa: Take advantage of the internet and it’s swift ability to enter contests and sign up for festivals and concerts. Through Sonic Bids for example, I have been able to achieve efficient means of getting my EPK out to promoters. My Space has been my main source of networking power and Facebook is used for my immediate networking. It’s how I reach my fans even though I’m not performing in their city. I come to them via the Internet. It’s awesome. Just yesterday I found out through Sonic Bids that I have been nominated for the 2008 Ontario Independent Music Awards, held in Toronto on October 16th. Wish me luck!

http://www.angelasiracusa.com

Bob Petrocelli’s catchy tunes bring one alive. His head-bopping tune “Blues-Blues” creates an aura of happiness and content. As honest as he sounds singing, he is even more honest with the way he plays his instrument. In his song “Get a Grip (Part 1),” it is clear that he wants you to get a grip of his style and of yourself at the same time: “get a grip of yourself, oh, whoa, whoa, whoa!” His album also has “Get a Grip (Part 2),” where he lays it down for you music-wise and does not let you let go of getting a grip of who he is
as an artist and of yourself. It’s a good thing we have Petrocelli to rely on when we are having a crappy, cloudy day at work. He brings us hope that we need to just get a grip and relax.

Catherine Spencer: Knowing that you have an extensive background in both roots and blues, who was your biggest inspiration?

Bob Petrocelli: I really don’t think I can say there was any one “biggest” inspiration.  I was a little kid when rock & roll first hit back in the ’50s and just kind of absorbed all the new sounds I was hearing.  I always gravitated toward the more bluesy-sounding artists, the New Orleans sound, stuff like that.  Later on I started listening to Chicago and Delta Blues, then jazzier stuff, funk, some singer/songwriter.  I guess you’d have to call me a musical sponge.  Mostly these days I listen to older blues and R&B stuff.

Spencer: There seems to be a story behind “Hey Shellena.” Do you mind telling us?

Petrocelli: Some of my songs are autobiographical and some are fiction.  Before I went back to playing music full time a few years ago, I worked a day job for some time.  I had a staff member reporting to me named Shellena which I thought was a great “blues” name.  I asked and received her permission to use her name in a song.  All the rest is pure fiction.  She’s not mean at all – a real sweetheart of a person.   I just wanted to write a good time uptempo tune.

Spencer: When listening to “Gulf Coast Blues,” I can feel that there is a difference in the song’s aura as being a little bit mellower. What were you going through as a musician during the time you wrote this song?

Petrocelli: “Gulf Coast Blues” is a totally different story.  I received a visit a couple months after Hurricane Katrina from a bluesman I had worked with a couple years prior to that.  He had been living in New Orleans when the hurricane hit and wound up trapped in the Superdome.  He was then bused to Houston and finally to Los Angeles.  Beyond that, I’ve been influenced by the unique musical and cultural heritage of the city of New Orleans and have visited the city many times.  So I guess the song is a combination of elements of the story told to me by my friend and my feelings about the losses to the city which has been one of the chief sources of American music for the last century or more.  

Spencer: Growing up, every musician has one person that has greatly impacted their life one way or another. Who is yours and why?

Petrocelli: I suppose there have been a number of people who have had a major impact on my life at various times.  On a musical level I’d have to say it was discovering the music of John Coltrane.  The first piece of his I ever heard was “Spiritual,” and it really changed my way of hearing and thinking about music.  It was as if his soul was directly piped through the saxophone.  The effect was pure emotion.  It was also freedom and discipline at the same time in terms of technique and the way the band played.  There really is a spirituality to his music. I’ve been working on absorbing these lessons for years.

Spencer: “Lady With a Plan” is an honest song. Do you think every woman would agree with your lyrics and why?

Petrocelli: Lyrics are a funny thing in a way.  Everyone draws out different interpretations of what they hear.  I don’t think it’s really a question of agreeing with my lyrics or not.  I was trying to create another uptempo fun song here.  The subject matter is somewhat obscure here, though.  While I can see that it might be seen as a description of a woman’s coquettish behavior, it’s really the story of a woman tending bar in NYC who has an immigration problem and resorts to a marriage of convenience to solve the problem.  It’s based on the true story of a friend of mine.  It’s not exactly your everyday jump tune but these songs take on a life of their own during the writing process and I let them go where they take me.

http://www.bobpetrocelli.com

Inspiration can originate from anywhere. In the case of singer/songwriter Don Arbor, his album Salam Pax (Peace) was named after an Iraqi blogger who wrote detailed accounts of the death and destruction around him. Arbor wrote the title track about him, taking no political sides except for the humanitarian viewpoint of war being wrong. The video for the song will be shown at the Berkeley Film and Video Festival on September 27th. Arbor sat down with Hellhound On My Trail to discuss his art and politics.

Carson James: Your voice takes me back to the late ’60s and early ’70s without consciously aping any artists from that period. Did you always sing this way or did it ripen with age?

Don Arbor: I grew up with music all around me. Both my parents had great, melodic, pure singing voices. I know that was a big influence on how I hear music and the way I sing. One of my favorite singers of all time is Roy Orbison. I wouldn’t say I try to sing like him, but he’s definitely an influence. But then again, I also like David Byrne, Bob Marley, and Chris Brown. And so many others who no doubt have filtered into my own singing in ways I couldn’t explain.

James: How did you discover the Iraqi blogger Salam Pax?

Arbor: I discovered Salam Pax while following the news online about the inevitable invasion of Iraq in 2003. It was a time of great sadness and frustration for me. I felt strongly, then and now, that the invasion was a tragic mistake based on weapons of mass deception, and a preconceived plan rather than any threat to our country. It was so hard to find common ground about these thoughts; the government and the media were beating the war drums constantly. When I read Salam Pax’ stories, I felt like I had found an authentic voice that cut through the white noise of the media and told me what was really going on. Salam Pax’ insight, courage and ironic humor were very important to me. It felt like I was reading something a friend or neighbor could have written.

James: What song on the album is most personal to you and why?

Arbor: “Salam Pax (Peace)” is the most personal song for me because it somehow manages to convey both my emotional and intellectual reactions to the insanity of war at the same time. “I Let It Go” is also a very personal song, but in a much different way.

James: “Salam Pax (Peace)” has been chosen to appear at the Berkeley Film and Video Festival. Have you ever considered entering the world of movies?

Arbor: I’ve always liked the movies, but I’ve never really considered entering that world in a serious way. I plan to stick with music and songwriting. I’m not ruling out making more videos in the future, but I don’t have any particular plans to do that. It would depend on having a song that would benefit from a visual presentation, rather than doing a video for its own sake.

James: How do you feel about the upcoming presidential election? Will your views on the Iraq War play the most important role in deciding who to vote for?

Arbor: I think that Barack Obama is a very different person and politician from those who have come before. Obama would bring respectability and vision that have been sorely lacking in Washington. The McCain campaign has been a depressing rehash of the same tactics that George W. Bush and Karl Rove used. It is certainly important to me that Obama saw the mistake of invading Iraq. There are other, equally important reasons why I support him, like changing the course of global warming and ending our excessive use of fossil fuels; fairness to working people; and Obama’s ability to listen to others and to seek synthesis rather than division. These are the hallmarks of what we need, as a people and as a planet, in the 21st century.

http://www.donarbor.com

Dianna Cristaldi/Dianna Cristaldi

Singer/songwriter Dianna Cristaldi sings of love, death, God, and war without softening the sharp edges of biting reality. This was once the spirit of country music, conveying messages and telling everyday stories without worrying about bringing people down. It’s not that Cristaldi’s songs are depressing; it’s just that they’re not shallow escapist fare or Nashville fluff. In “Open Hand,” Cristaldi reaches out to God, but a happy ending has yet to be found (“As I try to forget/The sorrow and the loneliness”). Mixed emotions abound on this record. “I’ve Got Nothing Left” seemed like a romantic confessional at first, but it’s actually about a break-up (“You’ve left the shore to walk among trees”), one that nevertheless doesn’t have her regretting about being in the relationship even though her feelings have run dry.

On “What Can I Do” and the devilishly attractive “Temptations,” Cristaldi wrestles with the blues but much of the LP falls into Americana territory. However, despite the country seasonings this is far from modern Nashville fodder. The lush strings of “I’ve Got Nothing Left” are probably too beautiful for radio, sounding breathtakingly gorgeous within the context of the album.

http://www.diannamusic.com

Side F/X/Contradictions

Side F/X is not a blues band; however, bluesy riffs abound as on “Her Escape” and “The Way You Look at Me.” Side F/X is not a reggae group; nevertheless, you can hear reggae rhythms in “My Hero.” Side F/X is not country, but there’s enough twang on “Life’s Mystery” to interest Nashville suits. Contradictions, then? Side F/X are full of them. And, to put it bluntly, thank them for injecting some originality and rebellious style-busting on their new album.

Vocalist Kim Cameron avoids the cliches of a woman leading a rock & roll band. In the post-emo underground landscape, you’d expect her to be belting distortion-washed anguish in our ears to prove how tough she was. But that’s not the case. Instead, Cameron is incredibly versatile, opting for Martha Davis-ish melancholia on “Shattered,” Norah Jones-esque soulfulness on “Come a Little Closer,” and Karen Carpenter-like fragility on “Life’s Mystery.” Although Cameron has a commanding presence, she doesn’t eclipse the electric charge of her fellow musicians as scorching guitars rip through “Won’t Break Down” and “The Way You Look at Me” and pulsating bass gives “Scattered” a knock-out punch to the chin. 

http://www.sidefxband.net

San Francisco-based singer/songwriter Frances Ancheta belongs to the post-Generation X side of the acoustic-pop coin, absorbing the influence of not only traditional folk music but the edgy British college rock of the mid-to-late ’80s. These influences inform her approach on her debut album, Now We’re Here, which marries the coffeehouse calmness of folk with the brittle emotions of classic alternative music.

Carson James: While acoustic, I wouldn’t necessarily classify your sound as folk. How would you describe it?

Frances Ancheta: It’s interesting that you say that because I feel exactly the same way. For the longest time I had difficulty in describing my sound because I feel I draw from so many different influences. I couldn’t feel comfortable in describing my music as just folk. After thinking about it and hearing other people’s spontaneous descriptions of my music, I would say “acoustic-driven tropical new wave/alternative/folk pop rock.” 

James: When did you learn how to play guitar? Who taught you?

Ancheta: I first learned how to play the guitar at age 10. I was drawn to my dad’s guitar after taking a few years of piano lessons. My dad showed me basic chords when I was young, but basically I first taught myself using my dad’s guitar book, then later learned chords and riffs of my favorite rock stars by ear and by tablature. A musical milestone for me was when I first took a community college classical guitar class 12 years ago. Professor Charles Ferguson forever altered the way I looked at the acoustic guitar; as a former pianist himself he helped me understand the guitar in the way I understood the piano. A light bulb went off in my head, and I was able to understand note reading, arranging, fingerstyle patterns/techniques, and dynamics with guitar. I came to appreciate all the subtleties and power the guitar had to offer.

James: Your songs feel very personal. Are they true to experiences that you’ve had?

Ancheta: Yes, they definitely are. A few of the songs are based on real-life experiences I’ve had with relationships, observations/perceptions about people, and my own life direction and self-worth. Some of the songs were written while working on the CD; others were written at least five years before I started on the CD project. Some of the songs on the CD directly refer to these things. Other songs are based on imaginary issues and situations where I try to understand what someone else might be thinking or feeling. This is especially true with several of the CD songs that I originally wrote for a friend’s movie based on my interpretations of the characters in his screenplay. Unfortunately his movie was never completed, but I still have these songs.

James: How has your style evolved since you started?

Ancheta: My style has evolved in different ways. As a child and pre-teen I really loved pop, old school R&B, New Wave, and alternative rock, especially groups like the Cure, the Smiths, Echo & the Bunnymen, New Order, R.E.M., and Crowded House to name a few. During my later teens and college years, I wasn’t impressed with the latest groups at the time (except for Radiohead, Frente!, and the Sundays) so I turned to jazz, old standards, and world music including The Gipsy Kings/flamenco artists, and reggae. In my twenties I really explored classical/flamenco guitarists, singer/songwriters like Nick Drake, Jeff Buckley, Eva Cassidy, and Hawaiian music. I think that over the years my style has incorporated all of these influences, but I’ve come to appreciate the possibilities of melody, texture, rhythms, and harmonies in scaled back, unplugged/acoustic sounds. 

James: Do you find comfort in singing about sadness?

Ancheta: I don’t think it’s specifically sadness that I find comfort in singing about. Writing songs about my whole range of thoughts and emotions, including sadness, was a very comforting process for me. I think what I found most comforting was the ability to express through music my full range of thoughts and emotions, yet at the same time come to a resolution of hope and acceptance with myself. I think different people I’ve talked to who listened to the CD pick up on that, and they find that it has also helped them achieve some peace, inspiration, and comfort as well. Hey, if my music can help people, then great! That’s a really rewarding and unexpected perk that I’m totally cool with.

http://www.myspace.com/francesancheta