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Tamarie T and Thee Elektra Kumpany

                First and foremost, I love the energy Tamarie brings to this interview. There are moments of bare sincerity which speak to me meaningfully as a fellow musician and bandleader and I wanted to share my thoughts. I was unable to check out the show on Frenchmen he recently hosted, but I hear it was out of sight. Please consider listening to the full interview on the Neworleansmusicians.com Podcast. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy. Here is a brief bio summary of Tamarie for anyone who missed the podcast.

                Tamarie T is an artist born in Inglewood, Chicago who has recently moved to New Orleans to continue his artistic career and bring his signature funk vibrations into the musical melting pot of the city.  Continuing in the tradition of early funkateers, Tamarie performs with a full ensemble complete with rhythm section, horns, vocalists and even dancers. His early career, which included covering the music of powerhouse artists such as Prince, eventually led to a role as a booking manager at Chicago’s Underground Wonder Bar. During these early years, he was able to establish a network of musicians (both peers and mentors), as well as begin to develop what would become a signature musical styling and dynamic stage presence. Tamarie calls his music “Exotic Funk”.  Let’s dig in.

                What is exotic funk? On an immediately relatable level to many musicians, exotic funk is the opposite of “everything”. Tamarie details a discussion wherein he was cautioned against saying the band plays everything. Personally, I have received similar advice from many of my mentors over the years. I have been a bandleader for over fifteen years, and I have changed styles and tastes in various ways. As the years go by, material from previous phases begins to accumulate and decisions must be made about the direction of the group musically and from a marketing perspective. Many artists find themselves in between established “genres” and must choose the lesser of two evils when deciding how to file paperwork on streaming platforms, etc. I tip my hat to Tamarie for putting boots to the pavement and taking on long-form interviews like this in order to be clear and descriptive.

                Tamarie paved his own way toward expression. He describes his career ascent from self-promoting on Craigslist as a “frontman extraoridinaire” to developing his musical and industry chops by reaffirming his constant desire to find his own sound. Tamarie speaks about “assuming the roles of our elders” as he describes the foundation and reformations of his ensemble. Again, I would encourage anyone reading this to give a listen to the full interview, especially if you yourself are at a transitional point in your career where you are looking to expand beyond covering other people’s tunes. I personally continue to perform occasionally with cover groups, but when I perform solo or with my band, I choose to do exclusively original music. This is a transition I was only personally willing to commit to after the pandemic, but this portion of the interview was especially compelling for me as a listener.

                Venturing into a personal aside, I also found it relatable when Tamarie spoke about various elements of sacrifice that are sometimes required to be a musician. And doubly so if you choose to forge your own path. As with most things in life, the factors at play will not be identical between any two people on this planet when it comes to major decision making. This topic, that is- the sacrifices musicians make to purse the lifestyle which suits them, could be the subject of a novel on its own. For the time being I intend to leave the subject alone, but perhaps will write a separate opinion piece to take a closer look at the matter in general.

                For now, let’s talk about New Orleans. It is a visceral city in which to be a musician and there is enough excitement generated per day to power a small-town power grid. For many, the first performances in the city are absolutely electrifying and can generate enough mental momentum to make you feel like you can conquer the world. This certainly seems to be the case with Tamarie, and I hope to see his career continue to grow during his time in the city. There are likely enough articles out about the potential roadblocks and the pitfalls which lay about, so let’s instead take a tangent.

Tamarie mentions the lack of response by various venues to his email requests to schedule a performance date, which is something I believe most musicians can empathize with in one way or another. There are, of course, some band leaders (the names change, the game doesn’t) who will prey on new-to-town musicians and there are always suspicions that venues may not be paying what is owed. But beyond the surface-level (and unsolicited) cautionary tales any local musician could share, and to avoid potential slander, I would like to use this article to encourage Tamarie and others to continue pushing for opportunities to perform (for money) their original music.

He describes his first performance in the city with local musician Sierra Green. I have personally had the pleasure of working with Sierra Green numerous times and I am vicariously thrilled for Tamarie to be introduced to such a business-minded (and bullshit-avoidant), charismatic and knowledgeable veteran of the scene. Anyone who has heard Sierra knows she possesses an incredible voice and a powerful stage presence. Certainly, a potentially exciting pairing for as vibrant of an artist as Tamarie. He also mentions trombonist and band member Maurice Cade, another New Orleans transplant born in Chicago. Maurice, in addition to performing with Tamarie and Sierra, is the trombonist in my horn section, The KB Horns. Maurice’s playing was recently featured at the Blues Music Awards in Memphis where The KB Horns accompanied blues guitarist Kenny Neal. All that to say, I believe Tamarie has found himself in exemplary company when it comes to fabulous musicians with earnest intention.  

Returning to the interview, Tamarie makes an aside about “assuming the roles of our mentors” which I found quite compelling. As the years pass, we do inevitably find ourselves in a position wherein we must take the mantle from whoever paved the way for us. Although we may never get an opportunity to inherit a legacy show or even meet our musical icons, I believe Tamarie is right in pointing out that we must appreciate the mentors who shaped our early years and we must express that gratitude to them in whatever way we can. Tamarie talks about the eventual reformations of his ensemble which led to staffing decisions that excluded long-time band members. He spends some time on this point, elaborating on the delicacy of the situation and the process by which bands transition to new membership while still showing respect for the members who are not chosen to represent the current trajectory. Having been a bandleader for over a decade, I relate to this deeply because sometimes the decisions can be absolutely gut-wrenching. It takes a certain type of person to balance the role of a business manager and that of the artist. Music is very often emotionally involved work, and I appreciate that Tamarie took the time in the interview to speak on the necessity of being considerate to those who must be let go in a transition. Life is hard enough; we must be nice to each other.

Coming to a final quote, Tamarie speaks about an interaction with Sierra Green where he was told to “not be humble”. Now we are playing with fire, and I love it! There is always a necessity for respect and decorum, relative of course to the situation, but there is a sound truth in the sentiment that the meek will not inherit the stage in New Orleans. I think there is a sound logic within this idea, and I want to point out again that this interview in its entirety goes into great detail about this point (I don’t want to see anyone taking this out of context). I personally relate to and agree with the sentiment, and I believe it goes without saying that in the context of all other topics discussed in the interview Tamarie shows a consistent empathy and compassion for his core band as well as temporary hires. Disclaimers aside, holy shit what a good thing this is to hear early on in your New Orleans journey.

This is a fiercely competitive gig market, with a lot of room for sidemen and fill-ins. But there are only so many stages and so many tourists to entertain on a given day. Until the point in your career where you are selling tickets with your name on them to pay your bills, being a bandleader in a tip-driven economy is no small undertaking. Recruiting band members who will make themselves available to you to take a chance on original music in a cover-dominated environment can be tricky, and Tamarie points out that even once you clear that hurdle the musicians will likely be involved in several other projects simultaneously. Scheduling rehearsal can be a nightmare, and commitments can often be quickly severed when the prospect of higher-paying work is introduced. It is not an easy task, and can be complicated even still by the lack of response by bigger name venues. Speaking from experience, it can be exhausting.

I encourage Tamarie, and anyone else looking to present their original music, to pursue this goal to the fullest extent possible. Tamarie, you are in good company (Kumpany?) and I wish you nothing but success. Don’t let the bullshit wear you down, and do what you can to stay true to your vision. I don’t believe there is any dishonor in taking pickup cover work if it helps keep things moving, and there are lots of places beyond tourist-populated clubs to perform. Big crowds are nice, but it’s hard to retain people’s attention and even harder to make fans who seek you out independently. I wish you success, and I am looking forward to meeting you out on the scene!

I’ll say this, nobody is going to see you as anything but yourself in New Orleans as long as you put it out there. Shine on!

Author: Kasey Ball

For: Neworleansmusicians.com

About the author:

Kasey Ball is a Louisiana born composer/arranger, multi-instrumentalist and producer. He is a 15-year veteran of the Louisiana music scene and bandleader of KB & the Backbeat.

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David Trahan

In mid-January of this year, I was joined on one of my new podcasts by the proprietor of NewOrleansMusicians.com. We met originally on the Mississippi River in a previous life and time under considerably different circumstances. I wouldn’t call it a chance encounter as it was our respective day jobs that brought us together that morning, but it was, without question, an intriguing introduction. He wasn’t like any other I’d met in his position. Little did I know the complexities of the man standing before me.

The opportunity to observe and study David’s mind in action was one with which I’d been eager to embrace. I wanted to know what made him tick. There was an odd connection that morning on the river. I most certainly had a sincere interest in his intended topic of discussion for our podcast visit, but also very much in the side of him that he seemed to be low-key deliberately keeping separate from his web presence. I appreciated his candor and participation in my podcast project, and owed him the very same respect he’d shown me, though our very first moment meeting would have suggested no such thing. 

I was working for one of the largest towboat and barge companies in the country, and his employer was no slouch either. They were a contractor for us. I’d boarded the vessel at an opportune time where I got to spend time with back watch first. Back watch had the characters (I thought). Some of those guys preferred it. It was such a different pace of life out there.  I could feel it in the air in the wheelhouse that morning.  A certain choking silence intruded as he came back up for his next six-hour watch.  A flurry of perceived thoughts resounded across the space between us and in that glare that stared at me as he came up those steep, wooden stairs…

“You mother fucker. I haven’t had coffee yet. Who the fuck is this guy? Why is he in my wheelhouse?”

And then the other pilot chuckled his way back downstairs.  I may have fabricated these thoughts in my recollection and retelling here, but anyway, I digress.  I paused for a moment when he first appeared before me. I blinked myself into quiet and regained my composure. This guy was different.  He was distracted by a pointless distraction, but I was really only there to make money.  I had a household to support.  I’d been visiting boats to help coach pilots on a new computer system every other week for a while by then.  David didn’t really need my help in the system. A few pleasantries and minor questions about the new system precluded a much deeper and more engaging conversation.

It turned out that our mutual misconceptions were forgotten when the coffee pot began dripping behind him. I kept in touch deliberately over time. He wanted to promote his project on my new podcast, and his passion for this website I hadn’t heard of was clearly evident and on display. I didn’t much follow the music scene these days, but I was, indeed, from just outside News Orleans.

My podcast projects document the lives of my guests from a broad array of origins and journeys through life. I’d kept in touch with David over the few short years since we’d first met, and often discussed the side projects upon which we’d both been so feverishly working on our time off. In one of the more recent of those conversations, he shared the story of a passion project of his to develop a service for the local music industry in The Big Easy that had been in production for many years, lingering forever in the back of his mind.

‘I sat back in quiet awe as I studied the backdrop before which he sat looking toward me. His studio mic reached out from left to right on screen and sat ready at his chin. He’d done this before. I knew this should be a good one.’

The conversation began as they all did, and I learned we grew up in the same area of southeast Louisiana just outside New Orleans, but we did so a decade apart.  It was a different world.  He was in my older brother’s generation, but some sort of trust had somehow developed between us over time. There was an unspoken acknowledgement of mutual respect, understanding and comprehension, but from when he had first left home to the time I met him, our lives couldn’t have been more divergent.  

His journey through life began as most others do. He showed up one day in 1976 and developed a love and appreciation for music at a very early age. Gifted in school, but drawn more to life in the streets, he found himself traveling aimlessly down the wrong path.  Disenchanted and distracted, he didn’t even finish college. Working odd jobs between and after classes wasn’t cutting it, nor were the jobs he’d been able to secure in the interim after cutting ties with his tertiary education.

The need and desire for disposable income and a happenstance job listing led him to a career entirely unrelated to music. It provided a path and direction out of trouble and well offshore.  Amidst a developing career in an industry to which he’d had little to no exposure previously, an opportunity arose for him to acquire the full rights and ownership of a website project he believed in. He endeavored to secure a web presence and acquired every available domain he could that may pertain to his new project.

His respect for the industry in which he worked professionally, and the knowledgebase upon which he drew on the job, led naturally to the drive and ambition that structured his pursuit of the passion project he sought to develop online when he was at home. It had become an obsession. With a growing family and an already demanding career, NewOrleansMusicians.com had not fallen by the wayside. It remained at top of mind for him no matter where he was or what he was doing.

What began as a networking tool for local bands, the website, NewOrleansBands.net, had grown organically to about 300 bands in its original configuration. The website was hosted out of town, so it remained online through Hurricane Katrina in late 2005, and kept local bands in touch with one another. David’s intended acquisition was delayed due to his job offshore, but in all of his spare time, he was drawing out by hand every page he’d imagined for the website he sought to own.  

The challenges of web development at that time were obstacles preventing his dream.  He persisted nonetheless. In 2021, after years of spending money to maintain an excessive amount of owned domain names that tied directly to his website, he was spurred by a wife that had seen and heard enough about it.  Since then, he found and hired a programmer to deliver the dream he’d envisioned. While he hasn’t yet realized the grand design, he’s moved it every month toward the finish line.  If you’re a band anywhere in the state of Louisiana, or a part of any supporting service for the entertainment industry, check out NewOrleansMusicians.com.  

Grow together.  Geaux together.

We touch on his wife and family after he paints the dreamscape of his website.  Then, from rebuilding a ’76 Chevy to tinkering on the piano, the website still outshined the rest. There was a certainty about him, a dreaminess, a gleaming eye. He knew he wouldn’t be where he was without the nudge of the support system that awaited him at home for ten days at a time on repeat seemingly forever.

“Here I am all grown up, Tim,” he’d finished with a laugh.

“I’m watching it live,” I responded.

You can expect two podcasts, at least four videos, and two articles every month on the site. And he hosts interviews to find and develop worthwhile content for the page. Musicians that join his site get immediate podcast and playlist placement, Youtube features, and promotional assistance all for free. And they can use his site to network, buy/ sell gear, read articles about Louisiana’s music scene, and experience music and videos from Louisiana’s scene. This man means it. He’s chasing the dream. Hop on that train before it leaves the station.

Anyway… All that to say, “Cheers, David.”

I find it difficult to comprehend the passion and commitment David demonstrates with NewOrleansMusicians.com. The schedule, agenda, and deadlines that he upholds for this thing are untenable to me. If I was nearly half as passionate about my own podcasts, I could probably make a career out of it. But I had the same concerns about financial security, the same reasons he maintained his day job, the same uncertainty that plagues any dream. David needs a better work schedule though. I’d like to start a petition…

Author: Tim Tregle

For Neworleansmusicians.com

Please check out my work.

“The Living History Collection” on YouTube. 

www.youtube.com/@WhereYatStudiosLLC

On Spotify, Google, Apple, and Amazon…

Between the Levees and Getting to Know You – Where Y’at Studios, LLC

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Fuel the Funeral Entertainment

In Louisiana, thirty-seven miles from the Gulf of Mexico, lies the town of Cut Off, the place where Hunter Bruce was born and raised. At that time (and still to this day), it was the type of place with nothing to do. You could find Hunter with friends hanging out in the parking lots of Sonic or Wal-mart. And the music scene… well it didn’t exist there. Experience with music for him at that time was whatever played on the radio. Streaming could only be found on Pandora and music in his household wasn’t a focal point. It wasn’t until Hunter graduated high school and moved away that he got to actually see live music. His first experience was on a grand scale and it would change his life forever.

On June 27th, 2016 the Warped Tour made its stop in New Orleans. And Hunter was one of the thousands in attendance. With most of his friends off to the military, he went to this event alone, and would spend most of that day at the smaller Full Sail University Stage. He affectionately recalls, “I saw Bad Seed Rising, incredible. I wish they would’ve never broken up. I saw Palaye Royal. No one knew who these guys were. There was like twenty people standing in front of that stage with me. Now these guys are touring the world and that’s so awesome to see.” He was later spotted and stopped by the guitarist for Palaye Royal, who signed and gave him a CD, thanking him for coming to their performance. He still has that CD to this day. And he’s kept a record of all the bands he’s seen over the years. Later that same year Islander, whom he was unfamiliar with, would headline at The Varsity Theater in Baton Rouge. He remembered Bad Seed Rising from the Warped Tour, and they were on the bill along with local supporting band Ventruss. That night, he became a fan of Ventruss and would see them countless times in the future. “The guys from Ventruss came, ‘aw dude thank you so much for being here’, you know, shook my hand. ‘Oh man we really appreciate it.’ And whenever that kind of stuff happens, you start realizing; man, this is really a tight knit community. You know, it feels genuine. They’re not just trying to sell me a CD or something. They actually appreciate you being here. That’s a really cool feeling.”

I can’t help but draw attention to the idea that, just like Hunter came away with a good feeling from his interaction with the band, the bands exist in that moment on stage drawing their feeling from the crowd. When the energy and excitement is projected from those in attendance, they witness a better performance. For many, these shows also become a new source of friendships. Regular attendees recognize one another from previous shows and began to strike up conversations among one another. And speaking from personal experience, I can say that a band grows in their appeal once you have some sort of personal vestment in them. Gaining friends with mutual interests, meeting members of the band that just blew you away on stage, and perhaps coming away from a show with a memento of some sort all make people feel connected and a part of something greater and more relative. These experiences also help to quell the overwhelming nature of today’s uber-convenient paths to new music. We have the world at our fingertips when it comes to new music. But there’s just so many options that make all too easy to get lost. Indie bands in Louisiana, for instance, often times get drowned out by all the other music with which they have to contend globally. Neworleansmusicians.com has focused on the niche of Louisiana bands, in part, for that reason. Bands who join our site intermingle pools of fans, helping to lift one another up. Likewise, when a booking agent does their job well, you can show up because you recognize one of the bands on the bill, and walk away gaining interest in new ones. In his present-day capacity as an entertainment company owner, Hunter recognizes and has been able to lend his services to bands in the Gulf Coast region, an area that he paused to recognize in this interview as rich with new talent. This is a pleasant surprise, given the havoc that Covid wreaked on the live music community as a whole.

“There was a lot of bands that broke up, which is unfortunate. There’s a lot of bands that took that time and said, well we can’t perform right now. But we can write. We can go to the studio. We can record. We can really spend this time honing our craft and come out swinging. And I think once the lockdown stopped and people came back, you could really see who spent those two years just kind of sitting around waiting, and who spent those two years still diligently trying to hone their craft.” As anyone can tell by now, Hunter remained an attentive understudy of the local music scene throughout. From his break out from Cut Off, to a stint in Houma, to finally settling in Folsom, Louisiana, that list of bands he’d seen grew to over 300. And all of these places were and still are rather obscure when it comes to hotbeds of music activity. He was constantly driving out to see these bands play. So, when a new venue, the Hideaway Den & Arcade opened up near him in Folsom, he was elated to attend their first rock show. Pious, Thornprick, and Dead Machine Theory were on the bill. The venue was pleased with the turnout and Hunter, well he saw opportunity. He approached the owner about booking another rock show and they accepted. On the bill was Acala from Covington, 4Mag Nitrous out of Baton Rouge, and Dead Savage from Hammond. The three fit well and, barring the fact that he accidently booked it on his wedding anniversary, the show was a success. “From that show, we’ve expanded so much. We built out the stage. We brought in an in-house sound tech with a full sound rig. They’re looking to do more and more. Whenever they first opened up, they were like man, we want to be the Southport Hall of the north shore in the sense that we want to offer a wide array of entertainment.” In the past, many places in the north shore area have been accustomed to the safety of cover bands. Every so often a local act performs. But Hunter hopes to see more original talent performing in the area. And he hopes The Hideaway, where he has become the main talent buyer, sets the standard. His intention is to strategically mix local bands with regional, national, more widely recognized names. Shortly after approaching and booking his first show at The Hideaway, Hunter approached about twenty venues between Slidell and Hammond with the interest of booking shows. “I went to these places. You know, here’s my business card. I understand you don’t know me from Adam. But, you know, give me a chance. Let’s see what we can do. Everywhere turned their nose at me; slammed the door in my face. They didn’t want to work with me. I get it, you know. You don’t know who I am and a lot of these places, they have their in-house people already. But after that, I’m like alright I guess I’m all in on this place (The Hideaway). And I’ve been all in with them ever since. And I don’t regret it man, I never looked back. And I think now if one of these places that originally turned their nose to me came back and said, oh man we’ve been seeing what you’re doing for this place, maybe we can do something, I’d probably tell them no. They take really good care of me here. I’m all in over here.”

Reflecting on his start, Hunter couldn’t remember the last time he did something that brought him so much joy. From booking the bands, to doing the fliers, to the online promotion, he fell in love. He became a true believer in the old adage “Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life.” So, unbeknownst to most, during his days booking, he spent four months registering, recruiting, and building his own roster. By its proper name, Fuel the Funeral Entertainment is now a booking agency with a list of developmental and promotional services, some of which include EPK one sheets, public relations, advertising, and website creation. Through dedication and diligence, Hunter hopes to bring to these bands what they have brought to him, loyalty. “There’s a lot of nights where you’re working until two or three in the morning.  behind the computer making sure that it’s done the right way. I don’t want to approach these bands and say hey, let me give you booking representation if I don’t know what I’m doing, you know? There’re enough thieves out there. I don’t want to be another one of them. And that’s what really lead me to starting this venture.” Before he began the process of forming this LLC, before he even had the idea, he was hired by an up-and-coming artist management firm that wanted to expand into booking. Though initially excited about the opportunity, upon working for the firm he began to notice business practices that he would only describe as a little less than reputable. “We’re taking these bands’ money and we’re not doing much for them. How are we justifying this? I just took a big step back and I’m like, I don’t want to do this. This feels wrong.” And just as one experience inspired him to book for The Hideaway, his experience with this company prompted him to forge his own path.

Since its inception, Fuel the Funeral Entertainment has been focused on transparency. The contracts come with personal advice from Hunter himself advising recipients to bring the documents to an entertainment lawyer. And I wouldn’t be surprised if honesty is the best bait out there these days. He’s been in discussions with bands that he’s had to turn away. Though he has confidence in his future ability to become more adept at the art, if what they’re seeking is outside of his level of current experience, he’s not above informing them. During our discussion, he stressed the importance of knowing one’s limitations and not embellishing upon them. This, coupled with his humility and true appreciation for what bands bring left a lasting impression that tells me his candor in business will take him far. You can view their list of services and submit works for review on the contact form at Fuelthefuneralentertainment.com.  

Author: David Trahan

Neworleansmusicians.com

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Matt Rhombus of Totem

For Matt, the Big Bang occurred at the age of eight when he encountered a family member’s extensive music collection. From this single point in time, his melodic universe began with cosmic bodies like Korn, System of a Down, Slipknot, Weezer, and Alice in Chains. Ever expanding, his exploration has landed him in a galaxy filled with sludge, punk, and rock-and-roll. Bass-heavy grooves have charted his path on this journey and, over time, have become the dominant, more prevalent point of recognition for his vessel of worship known as Totem. While music itself was always at the core of his attraction, camaraderie surely enhanced his gravitation. Like many of us that play, we are inexplicably drawn to an instrument at an early age. And suddenly, the arduous task of finding ourselves as human beings is compounded with finding a sense of musical identity. For those of you that don’t play an instrument, I would liken finding one’s musical identity to getting your first apartment. You don’t have much to do it with. Still, you gather everything you have that you think you will need, and some of what expresses who you are, to establish yourself in this “new” life. Only you’re not sure exactly where you want to live, what you want it to look like, or what you can afford. I have always admired true musicians because not only do they face this head-on at a time in life when they are still unsure of themselves. But they do it out in the open, in front of everyone. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the court of public opinion can be bitter.

Unbeknownst to Matt, he was mentally preparing himself for this quest just two years after honestly encountering music for the first time. He found himself doodling band names on his binders while in class. And at thirteen, to some degree, it had manifested itself physically. His hair was spiked and his jeans had chains hanging from them. Soon his friends would be discussing the idea of starting their own band. He knew several guitar players and a drummer. So, he settled upon bass as his contribution to the endeavor. “I think it was like, a Crescent or something. I remember cracking that thing open on Christmas Eve. And it was just a little beginner bass. But man, I wore that thing out.” At that time, Matt knew the cost of a bass guitar. While he gave it a shot, he was almost sure he wouldn’t be lucky enough to get one. But in due time, he would come to know the value. And while he did dabble in rhythm guitar and drums over the years, he always stuck by his bass. Looking back, he affirms the experimentations became useful tools within his narrative. Because of them, if need be, he can pick up or sit behind either and play.

“Getting better at bass… I think that I actually haven’t progressed, like technically speaking, at playing bass. Like, I don’t think I’m an amazing bass player by any means. But I use the bass as kind of a tool to help me write songs. That’s been the struggle of my past ten years, trying to find my place in the New Orleans music scene in general. Being in one band, being in another band, I’ve decided that I’m not going to put my talent up to somebody else anymore. I’m going to spearhead everything. And that’s why our band right now, Totem, is very bass-heavy and very bass-driven.” Modesty would definitely be Matt’s namesake. And his tendency to cite things like tremolos from Steve Harris and other technical players in the field has perhaps contributed to this mental conflict within him. But his niche and true appreciation for the craft lies within getting into a groove and holding things down to propel the song. Pitting one musician’s take on things against another is misleading. But inside the minds of many musicians, this is sometimes an eternal conflict. Doubting one’s self is by its very nature, misleading. And there came a point in time where this combined with being kicked out of a band had Matt stuffing his gear into a closet and shutting the door. He credits his long-time friend and drummer, Gage Breaux, with forcing him to leave the questions behind and return to the things he loved about the art. Their bond and Matt’s second coming further cemented Totem in the rhythmic, bass-lavish landscape that has become their signature sound.

Sparking an alternate creative direction in Totem with a new guitarist, Max Bonnet, has aided Matt in dusting off the difficulties within him. And intentionally not sticking to one particular genre keeps things fresh. As he pointed out, Boris, The Melvins, and Neurosis have always been bands that inspired him in this vein. Max brings with him a penchant for the shoegaze genre. Which should bring about a balancing effect when paired with Totem’s already established driving bass and drum elements. “Max is like refined energy. And he knows how to put the right dynamics on certain strums and he has more technique. He’s got something going on with him. He’s got this shoegaze background. I don’t know, he was obsessed with shoegaze for a while. He’s got some pretty shit that is really going to help us open up a new door to the psyche-rock domain.” In the past, Totem has been a trio where the bass basically commandeered the responsibility normally taken up by the rhythm guitar; keeping pace in the groove and moving things along a plane. Their drummer, Gage, would reinforce this, adding highlights and directing the change-ups. In the future, much of that will remain the same. But this recent addition will accentuate those priorities while also pulling the direction into question. Totem’s recent EP, For What It’s Worth, can be found on Spotify, Apple Music, and Bandcamp. And it will come to be a pivotal sonic example from the band. Because moving forward, a unique dimension via Max Bonnet will emerge. The newly minted trio is in the midst of writing several songs to add to their EP in preparation for their upcoming album. And in true Totem spirit, it will be exploratory, possessing artifacts of both prior artistic endeavors and future direction.