MUSIC & NIGHTLIFE

[December 4th, 2002] PREVIEW
Is That Freedom Rock, Man?
Caleb Klauder revels in his independence.

When Caleb Klauder released his solo album, Caleb Klauder Sings Out!, the general reaction was basically: "Whoa! This is that guy from Calobo? Who knew?"

As in, who knew a member of the epidemically popular but critically scorned jam band (or roots-rock collective, depending on your point of view) Calobo could release an album that wasn't remotely hippie-ish, didn't suck at all--was, in fact, pretty damn good?

The reaction certainly didn't accord Calobo much respect for its years of ceaseless touring, impressive independent sales and meaty fanbase. "I thought it was a little rude," Klauder says. "Everyone in the band could've done the same thing."

Maybe. There was that David Andrews record. Still, in its mid-'90s salad days, Calobo seemed like a committee project, a music factory primarily serving kids in western college towns. Klauder's emergence as a muscular individual voice--in the Steve Earle main vein of hearty, icon-smashing country, with folk, traditional and bar-rock touches--makes you wonder how long he chafed at the bit.

"There were a lot of things that were frustrating about Calobo," he says. "It became sort of like this machine." Constant touring put a regular salary in every member's pocket, but the merciless schedule--and the number of creative voices vying for traction in the seven-piece--also meant the music tended to get, by Klauder's admission, "watered down."

"We were really cut off from any local scene," he adds. This disconnect would turn into an advantage later. When the machine ground to a halt and Klauder set out on his own, he found himself working with a blank slate.

The Caleb Klauder Band includes fellow Calobo alum Jenny Conlee on keyboards; she and Klauder met while going to school in Corvallis and have played music together for about 10 years. Bassist Jesse Emerson attracted Klauder's attention when he played with the Flatirons a few years back. Klauder says that after hearing some of his songs, Emerson said, "We gotta get a rock guitar player!" So they got ubiquitous local guitarist Lewi Longmire, and Chris Hutton rounds out the lineup on drums.

"Everybody plays in at least one other band," Klauder says, except Longmire, who plays in a dozen. This is good for transcending cliques and scenes, but it makes scheduling a little complicated. "I went from Calobo, kind of being the passive-aggressive band leader, to being the guy who manages everything. It's a challenge to make people feel comfortable. I also have this fear that I might want to, you know, quit for a year or something. If you did that in Calobo, you'd pull the rug out from under them."

While his full band re-creates the richness of the Luther Russell-produced album, Klauder also plays sparer versions of the songs either solo or with a trio (Klauder, Emerson and Conlee), and mandolin in the old-time Foghorn String Band.

"I like having a band," he says, "but I want to experiment with other things. I don't want to be cornered in the old-time scene, I don't want to be cornered in the Calobo scene, I don't want to be cornered in the LaurelThirst scene. I don't want to be cornered in any of it. I'm totally into bridging it all."

With his new solo identity putting down solid roots, Klauder plans to go heavier on the traditional music for his next album, maybe even record it in the living room of his cozy little Northeast Portland house, where he lives with his 6-year-old kid, two goats (Burt and Pancho) and a handful of chickens. He likes Sings Out and loved working with Luther Russell, but he's also excited about the chance to make the album he would've made two years ago if Luther hadn't come along.

That said, the follow-up isn't exactly in sight yet. Not everyone has to be prolific. Klauder seems pretty comfortable with the idea that he simply works more slowly than some of his fellow Portland songwriters.

"I'm just trying to be patient. It always comes back around. I'm resigned to having a big cycle," he says, drawing a giant hoop in the air. "When the time's right, I'll know." Becky Ohlsen

Caleb Klauder plays Friday, Dec. 6, at White Eagle, 836 N Russell St., 282-6810. The Old Joe Clarks also appear.
9:30 pm. $6. 21+.

Askance and Askew
Tracker gets lost on a road less traveled.

You're in the desert, driving. Something breezy, expansive and warm floats out of the stereo: whispered vocals, murmuring tremolo guitars, skewed antique sounds and stumbling Tin Pan Alley folly. The perfect sound, in strange ways, for the landscape around you.

"I'm attracted to the idea of creating music that allows the listener to think visually about something," says John Askew, Portland recording ace and mastermind behind the band Tracker. "I hope people would put on a Tracker record while driving out to Bend or something--to accompany the experience."

Desert spaces occupy the cover of Tracker's new record, Polk--and its mindset. The 12-song CD on Askew's own Film Guerrero label, which he operates out of his basement, adds a heaping portion of Giant Sand songwriter Howe Gelb's comic tone and the screwy pop songwriting of Camper Van Beethoven to Askew's cinematic meditations.

Askew writes, records, sings and plays many of the instruments on Tracker's releases, with a little help from his friends. As a recording engineer at the popular mid-fi studio Type Foundry, Askew can devote his spare time to recording his own efforts. The studio work also gives him an unfair recruiting advantage.

Although Askew holds the reins every step of the way as songwriter, producer and record-label honcho, Tracker is definitely a band, filled with talented musicians culled from other bands. The current lineup features Michael Schorr of Death Cab for Cutie on drums, A.C. Cotton bassist Todd Corbett ,and the Decemberists' Chris Funk on guitar and pedal steel.

This free-'n'-easy partner swapping might be an organizational nightmare for Askew, but he accepts the limitations of availability as part of the band's aesthetic. "Circumstance has been a big part of Tracker," he says.

Throughout the course of Tracker's two albums, compilation recordings and various tours, the lineup has seen a revolving-door rotation of members. Perhaps the advantage to such an organic and pragmatic approach to music is that it makes the songs' sensory experiences more important than the performers. And that's just the way the Tracker auteur likes it. Dave Clifford

Tracker plays Saturday, Dec. 7, at Satyricon, 125 NW 6th Ave., 243-2380. Richmond Fontaine and Fernando also appear. 10 pm. Cover. 21+.

SPECIAL INTERACTIVE EDITION
HISS and VINEGAR

THE DOLOMITES VS. AMERICA

From a "tour report" by Portland gypsy-freaks The Dolomites:

"This last 6 weeks has definitely brought life in perspective in a million different avenues of both reckless and consequential happiness, sadness, and madness...from...pimp midgets in Chicago...to setting a Guinness Book of World Records [record] for 39 lbs. of chicken cooked on stage in 90 minutes at Clemson University, to the Brooklyn warehouses, to camping in the East Village, to a dramatical near fist-fight with an overly drunk and blacking out member in Detroit... to train-yard romances and recording adventures in box cars...to the 9th Ward brass band march in New Orleans...it all seems like a breeze from here."

MELODY! GET YR AZZ IN HERE!

We're all for ninja attacks on the three-chord pop format. But after gettin' wrecked by the splintered experimental classical of Seattle's Degenerate Art Ensemble and the second night of two-night weirdfest Arctics (at Blackbird and Disjecta, respectively), we were g'damn ready for something resembling a song. AND WE ARE NOT ASHAMED. DAE was pretty amazing, "like Naked City lite," in the estimation of one knowledgeable onlooker. The brief, jazzish solo turn by 31 Knots guitarist Joe Haege was an Arctics highlight--lawdy, that boy can really play!

FACIAL HORROR

It is disturbing to note that many males in the local rock orbit seem to be growing beards for winter. Yo, Frodo, you're giving us the creeps!

GUITARIST FOR "WORLD'S GREATEST JAZZ TRIO" SOUNDS OFF...

Verbatim from voice mail:

"Hi, this Billy Hagen from the Dave Fleschner Trio. I heard a review you guys wrote about us in the paper. Not good. Don't be writing shit that's bullshit. This is the world's greatest jazz trio. Yeah, we're pissed off. Anyway, fuck you. Don't you even come to our gig or anything like this. Yeah, I'm fuckin' mad. My number is XXX-XXXX. Excuse my language. You know, it's people like you, man. Fuck you, y'know. Anyway, I'm sorry...but, not good. Not good. Come see our show Friday night. Don't you ever talk about Dave Fleschner like this."

...AND YET ANOTHER SATISFIED READER OPERATES HIS/HER KEYBOARD

From electronic mail:

"Dear H and V--Motherfucker! You call the Scene Creamers predictable, kitsch, indie.. blah blah... yet you fucking have axl rose, trent lott, eminem, j-lo together in your dull ass column...please please can you tell me more about Everclear? Your column should be featured on Entertainment tonight w Mary Hart...more like shit-stained vomit & vineger [sic], FUCK!"

ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE

Our inquiring and articulate readership will be disappointed to learn there's not a lot to report regarding Art Alexakis and those other two guys right now. Heroic Oregon rockers Everclear do have shows in Dallas and West Palm Beach this week, and Art's gearing up for a spring solo tour. "I want to go out and see the faces of our fans in an intimate environment," says Alexakis, via the band's website. "Just me and my guitars." Go, intimacy! We'll be sure to pass on updates as information develops.

Holla back: hiss@wweek.com.