The #Tweetcore Radio Hour, Episode 6

Here’s the latest edition of The #Tweetcore Radio Hour… This week’s episode features some spoken-word flash fiction by Charles Holdefer, an interview with Scoopski, and music by The Star Cumbles, Bees!, The Hollow Truths, Unlucky Mammals, Orchid Mantis, The Wends, Won’t Say Rabbit, Fendahlene, Electric Looking Glass, Eric Linden, and Scoopski!

I Love the Classics: A Conversation with Alex Genadinik

Alex Genadinik is a singer-songwriter who lives in the vicinity of Hoboken, New Jersey. As his website notes, Alex’s songs are written to “make you think about life,” and his musical influences include some you might expect—like Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, and Neil Young—and some you might bit even be familiar with—like 20th-century Russian poet-songwriters Bulat Okudzhava and Vladimir Vysotsky. A quick glance at his YouTube page makes one thing clear: Alex loves fine art in all of its forms, and his songs touch on topics like Johannes Vermeer’s painting Girl With A Pearl Earring and Michelangelo’s The Creation of Adam.

You have some interesting musical influences. Can you say more about Bulat Okudzhava and Vladimir Vysotsky? How would you describe their music? How did you learn about them? What is it about their music that touches you?

Since it’s 2022 and some of my poetry and music influences are from what was the Soviet Union, I should say that I was born in Ukraine. But I liked these artists long before the events of 2022. Furthermore, if they were alive today, they would be some of the most vocal voices against the likes of Putin.

I would think of Bulat Okudzhava as the Bob Dylan of the Soviet Union, and Vladimir Vysotsky as Johnny Cash of the Soviet Union because of his harsher musical tones. Okudzhava was active a little earlier, and Vysotsky often mentioned him as his inspiration.

Soviet singer-songwriters put a heavy focus on the quality of their poetry. Their poetry was humane, real, wise, and brave. It was brave because many poets literally went to jail for saying the wrong things about the government. But my inspiration with their music wasn’t because of politics, but rather the humanity in their poetry.

How does their music complement the likes of Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, and Neil Young, particularly in the context of your music?

I look at Bob Dylan’s poetry as in large part having political and social commentary. And Leonard Cohen has much less of that, and more focus on love, life, and the humanity of it all. Of course, Dylan has that too, but a lot of Dylan’s work focuses on social class issues.

Something similar can also be said about Bulat Okudzhava and Vladimir Vysotsky. They oscillate between love, life, and politics. To learn more about the work of Bulat Okudzhava in a way that’s accessible to English speakers, here is a page of where I put together translations and covers of Bulat Okudzhava’s music into English with my commentary: Bulat Okudzhava Poems And Songs In English.

What do you like about Dylan, Cohen, and Young, and what are some ways that their influence shows up in your music?

In simple terms, I love music that gives “the feels.” In ancient Greek terms, it would be music that gives a catharsis.

The topics I often gravitate to aren’t political, but humane. It’s a great experience when I can identify my own experiences in something an artist is describing, especially when that artist offers a unique perspective, especially when it’s in a beautiful song.

Clearly you have an interest in what many regard as classic paintings. Why is this a topic that appeals to you? What do you see as the relationship between painting and music?

I find most art mediums enriching: music, visual arts, theater, etc. It’s actually a coincidence that my music focuses heavily on paintings. Or maybe I didn’t realize how the imagery in these paintings affected me.

Especially the song about repainting the Birth of Adam by Michelangelo – the original painting has such strong imagery that I guess it lived in my mind much more than I realized. For reference, here is that song:

In the song about The Girl With The Pearl Earring, the opening line of the song is “I passed a painting as if dreaming. It was The Girl With The Pearl Earring.” It’s actually true. When I was young, I had a boring job at a dormitory of an art college. They had a copy of the painting of The Girl With A Pearl Earring on the wall. The first time I walked by that painting, I had to do a double take. That girl made a tremendous impression on me. Her beauty was really something else, and the lightning-bolt-strike of that experience stuck with me. For reference, here is that song:

Do you do any painting yourself?

I was always horrible at drawing. So, no. I am just a fan.

Shakespeare and Beethoven also make their way into your music. Can you say a little bit about that?

Just like the visual arts, I love the classics both in music and literature. Both Shakespeare and Beethoven are so enriching, so it only makes sense that I’d riff off and build on top of their work. They are both inspirations.

It seems like you have a vested interest in preserving the past—or at least memorializing it in your songs. Is that fair to say? What accounts for your love of history?

I think it’s natural to do that. All the paintings, classical music, and writing we discussed so far have been so enriching to my inner life. Life would be many levels emptier and worse without them.

It’s probably accurate to look at it less in terms of me preserving history, and it’s probably more accurate to look at it with appreciation to them for doing the work that they did. They left tremendous gifts to humanity.

And, of course, if you are active in any field, it only makes sense to learn about the great people in your field who came before you. Not doing that is probably called ignorance. So in my mind, I am not doing anything too out of the ordinary.

Of course, none of this is to say that your music is stuck in the past. How do the works inspire your music translate to modern experiences?

I guess my feeling is that the deep human experiences are universal, whether it’s the touch in Michelangelo’s paintings or Shakespeare’s ideas about love. They don’t get outdated through time, and are still relatable.

But if you ask younger people, they will likely frown on the fact that I don’t talk about the same things that Drake does. So perhaps, I am a little outdated (let’s say rustic) in my tastes.

The New York City skyline features prominently in your video for “Nobleman.” Is there a “New York influence” on your music?

I just happen to live in an area where there is a nice view of Manhattan, so I chose that background for the video because frankly I am not great at creating music videos. The song itself is a translation and a partial re-write of one of Okudzhava’s songs. The song has nothing about actual New York.

Although New York can use a little bit of the hopeless romantic. It prides itself on being so tough that a little vulnerability would be welcome.

What are your plans for the future?

I plan to re-release a few of my older songs with better vocal performances, more interesting musical arrangements, and more interesting production.

I am also currently writing a song that riffs off a topic from a Socratic Dialog in which the question “What is beauty?” is explored. The Socratic dialog doesn’t provide a definitive answer to that question, so I try to do that in this song. My definition to “what is beauty?” is “something is beautiful if it inspires” which is perhaps also fittingly vague. The song will likely be released around December 2022 or January 2023. It will be released on my website and my new YouTube channel onto which I plan to post my upcoming music.

Thanks for taking the time to talk to me!

The Star Crumbles: Beyond the Music

As you likely know, I’m in a band called the Star Crumbles, which consists of me and my friend Brian Lambert. As you also likely know, we have an album coming out on October 7. It was supposed to come out today, but for various reasons, some of which may or may not be alluded to in the following documentary, it had to be delayed just a little bit. The album, by the way, is called The Ghost of Dancing Slow. You can hear snippets of it in the background of said documentary.

Said documentary.

Personally, I want to thank everyone who helped out with this project. It all started when Brian came up to Philadelphia to see the Liberty Bell. It was a hot day, and the line to see the ol’ Bell was long, so I just showed it to him through a window in the building where they keep it. Then I showed him Independence Hall, which is conveniently located across the street from the Liberty Bell.

Amateur historian that I am, I mentioned to Brian that it was pretty perspicacious of them — whoever “they” were — to name the building Independence Hall. I mean, they could have named it anything. Carpenters’ Hall, for example. But, no. Someone, somewhere just knew that something big, something signaling independence would take place in that building, so…

Of course, Brian wasn’t having any of it, so he said something like, “What if we told the story of the Star Crumbles?”

And I said, “Like in a documentary?”

And he said, “That would be cool.”

And I said, “Like these guys should have done.”

I jerked a dismissive thumb over my shoulder to indicate Independence Hall. Why they hadn’t thought to have a camera crew on hand while they made history is beyond me. The looks on all the faces at that tragi-comic moment when the Liberty Bell cracked the first time they rang it would have been priceless! And then when they fixed it and it cracked a second time? Talk about a metaphor!

But that’s neither here nor there. What’s both here and there is me (here) and all of the amazing people who helped with this documentary (there). Also worth noting: If you’re one of them, my “here” is your “there” and vice-versa. Point being that I have a lot of people to thank!

The first person you see in the documentary is Miceal O’Donnell. Miceal (it’s pronunced ME-hall, by the way) and I were roommates in college. We were actually in a band together for a short time. The band was called Animal Boy after the Ramones album. We used to talk about making movies, and that’s what Miceal went on to do. Which explains why his scenes are shot so expertly–and how he slips so naturally into the character of a guy who has better things to do than to talk about the Star Crumbles. Plus his use of props is funny, especially the potato chips he’s eating. It really adds dimension to his character. If you get a chance, check out Miceal’s YouTube channel, especially his explication of the difference between a roof and a ceiling:

Next you see Greg Dorchak. I love the way he says “The Star… Crumbles?” as if dredging up a long-lost memory or trying to recall an important detail from an alternate timeline where things played out differently. Getting Greg involved with the project was pure luck. His broth Frank (more on him later) recommended that I reach out to him. Turns out that Greg, like Miceal, knows what he’s doing when it comes to making a film. He’s both starred in and made a few, including Kopy Kings. He’s also the author of a book called How to Pull a Movie Out of Your Ass: Realistic expectations for the first time filmmaker with no budget to speak of. More to the point, the guy’s just hilarious. Listen, for example, to his exquisite timing when he mentions the “considerably smaller vault” where the Star Crumblles’ master tapes are allegedly stored!

The only person from the film that I’ve known longer than Miceal O’Donnell is Timothy Simmons, whom I’ve always known as “Tim” and only recently learned that he prefers “Timothy.” We’ve been friends since high school, probably 1988 or 1989, and in all that time, he never once said, “Hey, you know something? I kind of prefer Timothy.” Which says a lot about the guy. What also says a lot about the guy is that he came to my house under the pretense of playing some music together, but then I roped him into riffing on his memories of the Star Crumbles. And it was a reasonable pretense, as Tim and I have recorded a couple of albums together as Simmons and Schuster. His solo material is also pretty amazing, so check it out here:

I’ve also known the aforementioned FP Dorchak for a quite a while. We became friends back when I was doing a lot more writing (and a lot less music), and I was reviewing books on my Small Press Reviews blog. I used to review a lot of books on that blog, and 99% of the time, my experience was that writers would hound me to review their books and then pretend that I didn’t exist after I’d given them what they wanted. But not Frank. He was one of the very few people who kept in touch and would drop me a line just to see how things were going. (There are some others, of course, and if you’re one of them and reading this, I know you know who you are, so thanks!) Anyway, Frank’s fiction always has a bit of a supernatural twist to it, so I knew he’d be up for the Star Crumbles project. I love that line, “Let’s see… It was the eighties… Cheap hotels…” Check out his books here:

Then there’s Mike Mosley. I love that he adds some bitterness to the proceedings, and the idea that he used to be in the band (and that it was called Mosley Crumbles) is priceless. Then again, he’s really a great songwriter, so his claim that if not for him, there would be no Star Crumbles isn’t as far-fetched as it may seem. Brian and I actually recorded a song of his called “Cool Down” and are including it on The Ghost of Dancing Slow. He’s recorded under a couple of names, including Junior Mozley and Jr. Moz Collective, and he’s also worked with Brian on a few tracks like “Three Hours” and “World War Me.” All good stuff!

Jeffrey Brower gives the documentary a fun narrative thread, describing his journey from being a young criminal on the lam to becoming part of the Star Crumbles management team after stumbling upon the band at what he took to be an abandoned gas station (but which turned out to be a secret biker bar). Again, I’m amazed at the imagination of his storytelling–the characters, the incidents, the weird twists, the unexpected appearance of Robbie Krieger of the Doors! Brian and I are friends with Jeffrey on Twitter, where he posts about life as a retiree with twin daughters who are tearing it up as burgeoning rock musicians. Brian actually dropped in at Jeffrey’s birthday party this summer and met some of Jeffrey’s cool guests like Tommy Stinson of the Replacements.

Stinson, Brower, and Lambert. Now there’s a band I’d pay to see!

Another cool person I know from my college days — and actually a little before that; we were both counselors at the same day camp! — is Eileen O’Donnell. As you might have guessed, especially if you clicked on some of the links above, Eileen and Miceal are married, and Eileen is a filmmaker as well. There’s a wistfulness in the way Eileen delivers her lines, as if she’s really remember the heyday of the Star Crumbles, and I was especially impressed with the way she interpolated the history of the Violent Femmes onto the Star Crumbles. It’s the kind of behind-the-music history that only hardcore rock and roll fans know. But what really takes the cake for me is Eileen’s performance of “This Side of the Grave” about halfway through film. That’s actually a song I wrote and performed when I was making ersatz Violent Femmes music back in the 90s! Also worth noting: Eileen is an excellent sculptor. Check out her work here:

I also have to say that we were incredibly fortunate to get Jeff Archuleta on board with the project. I’ve been reading Jeff’s Eclectic Music Lover blog for years now, and as the name of the blog might suggest, I’ve come to rely on it to learn about a wide range of music. The cool thing about Jeff’s blog is that he talks about music from independent artists in the same breath as music from “big” names, and it’s common for his weekly Top 30 lists to include music from bands at both ends of the spectrum — and everything in between! As far as the documentary goes, I love that we have a real music writer commenting on our music; it lends a bit of credence to our story. “Truth,” of course, is another story! Jeff’s wild tale of his one encounter with the Star Crumbles is golden!

Just as Jeff’s clips give the documentary some credence, Mikey J‘s clips give the documentary a noirish feel. Mikey J is one of a handful of indie musicians I got to know when I was helping out with the Lights and Lines Album Writing Competition, and his song “Little Dragon Girl” won him an award for best single. When we chatted back in July, he told me that the song was dedicated to his wife, Ella, and that they live in Shanghai, which (at least in part) explains how he managed to see the Star Crumbles at Harley’s bar!

One of the first bands I found when I started looking for indie music on Twitter was The La La Lettes. Their albums reminded me of a mix of Frank Zappa, the Residents, Bob Dylan’s Basement Tapes and the Beach Boys’ Party album. Little did I realize when I first heard them that The La La Lettes were, for the most part, the work of one man, Chris Triggs, of Colwyn Bay, Wales. I love the way Chris weaves the details of his own life story into the story of the Star Crumbles — and when it all builds toward a crushing anticlimax, the look on his face is perfect. As with everyone involved in the project, Chris’s comic timing is impeccable, and I love the way he delivers the line about our “John Taylor haircuts.”

It came as no surprise to me when Øyvind Berge of Todd and Karen was the first person to respond to my request for footage. He’s seriously on top of things when it comes to music — not just in terms of promoting his own, but also in terms of sharing information with the wider indie music #Tweetcore community and curating great Spotify Playlists, like Beatleesque Brill Pop. The clips he gave me were perfect — equal parts Monty Python and This Is Spinal Tap. The line about the Morris Dancers really made me laugh, and I didn’t even know what Morris Dancers were at the time! But then I did some digging and found some footage to add to the documentary just in case anyone else was curious. Needless to say, I’m really looking forward to the forthcoming Todd and Karen EP, Approximately Here for a Bit.

When I reached out to the artist formerly (and currently) known as Ziggy about being in the documentary, she had two stipulations: she would not say a word, and Laini Colman had to appear in any scenes that featured her. Which turned out to be perfect, because Ziggy is a dog, and Laini was next on my list of people to contact, as I’ve been a big fan of her music for years. We first chatted in 2017 when she released her debut album, and then again earlier this year to discuss the release of her latest album, Racka Shacka. Back when I was still on Facebook, Laini’s page — Laini’s Beach Shack — was one of the few places I could go to get a real sense of musical community, and it was all Laini’s doing. So I really love that Laini’s fondest memories of the Star Crumbles are of their tour with her band The Beach Shackers!

Finally, I was excited to have Traci Law involved with the documentary as well! If she looks familiar, maybe you’ve seen her in the web series Morbid Curiosity and Compelling Women or you caught a glimpse of her in Silver Linings Playbook. She’s one of those actresses who’s shown up everywhere, and she’s recently been branching out into voice acting. Of course, it’s her work on Morbid Curiosity and interest in the paranormal more broadly that made me think Traci would be perfect for Beyond the Music, and when I asked her to suggest that Brian and I might be vampires, she was on it! An amazing photographer, Traci is also the author of the book Enchanted Britain.

I really feel fortunate to have so many friends who were willing to help me and Brian out with this project! It means the world to me that people I’ve known from so many parts of my life pitched in. Not only that, but I’m seriously amazed at everyone’s talent, and I love how everyone’s tales of meeting or seeing or performing with the Star Crumbles complement each other perfectly. I could go on and on about how much you all mean to me, but I’m heading out for my COVID booster, so let me leave it at this:

Thank you.