This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2013/jul/10/stepkids-standing-on-the-shoulders-of-passion

The article has changed 2 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
The Stepkids: 'We're standing on the shoulders of passion' The Stepkids: 'We're standing on the shoulders of passion'
(2 months later)
"All our dads were musicians," says Tim Walsh, drummer, singer, songwriter and one third of remarkable Connecticut pop-funk polymaths the Stepkids. "Jeff [Gitelman, guitarist/singer]'s dad played fiddle in a wedding band; Dan [Edinberg, keyboards/singer]'s dad was a jazz pianist, my dad played in a wedding band for 20 years. They had day jobs – engineers, psychologists. So it was a side-thing for them, a performance of passion. In their eyes, hopefully, we're standing on the shoulders of that passion.""All our dads were musicians," says Tim Walsh, drummer, singer, songwriter and one third of remarkable Connecticut pop-funk polymaths the Stepkids. "Jeff [Gitelman, guitarist/singer]'s dad played fiddle in a wedding band; Dan [Edinberg, keyboards/singer]'s dad was a jazz pianist, my dad played in a wedding band for 20 years. They had day jobs – engineers, psychologists. So it was a side-thing for them, a performance of passion. In their eyes, hopefully, we're standing on the shoulders of that passion."
Buy it fromBuy it from
Like their fathers, the trio started out as sidemen, meeting on the fertile jazz scene of their native New Haven, Connecticut. But they had grander visions, ambitions that see fruition in their masterpiece second album, Troubadour. "Every musician gets to the point where they want to compose, not just perform," says Walsh. "Composing songs meant we'd be paving our own roadway ourselves."Like their fathers, the trio started out as sidemen, meeting on the fertile jazz scene of their native New Haven, Connecticut. But they had grander visions, ambitions that see fruition in their masterpiece second album, Troubadour. "Every musician gets to the point where they want to compose, not just perform," says Walsh. "Composing songs meant we'd be paving our own roadway ourselves."
They first began playing together in 2007, but Gitelman's subsequent two-year stint as touring guitarist for Alicia Keys (also playing for Lauryn Hill and Bobby Brown en route) placed the project on pause. Upon his return, they collaborated with some local musicians on an album, but found themselves more enthused by tracks they were recording as a trio in their downtime. "That music became the Stepkids," Walsh grins. "We were our own side-project."They first began playing together in 2007, but Gitelman's subsequent two-year stint as touring guitarist for Alicia Keys (also playing for Lauryn Hill and Bobby Brown en route) placed the project on pause. Upon his return, they collaborated with some local musicians on an album, but found themselves more enthused by tracks they were recording as a trio in their downtime. "That music became the Stepkids," Walsh grins. "We were our own side-project."
The songs that became their eponymous debut album – a lo-fi riot of Norman Whitfield funkadelia and George Clinton-esque pop perversity that the Guardian's Paul Lester described as "doing for 70s soul and funk what Ariel Pink did for 80s MTV pop" – found their way into the hands of Peanut Butter Wolf, DJ and honcho of San Francisco sui-generis hip-hop imprint Stones Throw (home to rap visionaries Madlib, J Dilla and Dam Funk), who immediately signed the group. "The sounds we had on that record were a perfect fit with Stones Throw," says Walsh. "A lot of crate-diggers were looking for old records that sounded like ours, so it made sense."The songs that became their eponymous debut album – a lo-fi riot of Norman Whitfield funkadelia and George Clinton-esque pop perversity that the Guardian's Paul Lester described as "doing for 70s soul and funk what Ariel Pink did for 80s MTV pop" – found their way into the hands of Peanut Butter Wolf, DJ and honcho of San Francisco sui-generis hip-hop imprint Stones Throw (home to rap visionaries Madlib, J Dilla and Dam Funk), who immediately signed the group. "The sounds we had on that record were a perfect fit with Stones Throw," says Walsh. "A lot of crate-diggers were looking for old records that sounded like ours, so it made sense."
Charming though that debut was, its follow-up is as momentous a step forward as when Dorothy left monochrome Kansas for Technicolor Oz, adding effervescent psychedelia, neon 80s electro-soul, the smoothest of pop and sweetest of jazz to the Stepkids' palette. The songs of Troubadour might recall Steely Dan, Hall & Oates, the Rotary Connection, ELO, Jam & Lewis, George Benson, and Cole Porter as harmonised by the Beach Boys, all in a blissful three minutes or so – crucially, the group harvest fine pop from their influences, making sublime sense of their eclectic array of melody and groove.Charming though that debut was, its follow-up is as momentous a step forward as when Dorothy left monochrome Kansas for Technicolor Oz, adding effervescent psychedelia, neon 80s electro-soul, the smoothest of pop and sweetest of jazz to the Stepkids' palette. The songs of Troubadour might recall Steely Dan, Hall & Oates, the Rotary Connection, ELO, Jam & Lewis, George Benson, and Cole Porter as harmonised by the Beach Boys, all in a blissful three minutes or so – crucially, the group harvest fine pop from their influences, making sublime sense of their eclectic array of melody and groove.
"If you hear any familiar element in the album, there's a chance we were influenced by it," admits Walsh. "Between the three of us, we have a diverse shared catalogue of things we love. Sometimes we'll find ourselves playing a Silver Apples record, then a Rick James record, and then the James Blake record, and there'll be some thread running through all three that will contribute to how we create a song. There's no limits, no borders to it.""If you hear any familiar element in the album, there's a chance we were influenced by it," admits Walsh. "Between the three of us, we have a diverse shared catalogue of things we love. Sometimes we'll find ourselves playing a Silver Apples record, then a Rick James record, and then the James Blake record, and there'll be some thread running through all three that will contribute to how we create a song. There's no limits, no borders to it."
The album is also a concept piece, opening with the words "Once upon a time, in Connecticut …", before unfurling a suite of songs Walsh describes as "pretty autobiographical," penned from the perspective of "facing the trials and tribulations of the 21st century experience of making music".The album is also a concept piece, opening with the words "Once upon a time, in Connecticut …", before unfurling a suite of songs Walsh describes as "pretty autobiographical," penned from the perspective of "facing the trials and tribulations of the 21st century experience of making music".
But Troubadour is no inaccessible self-indulgence, the album's plotline of struggling and hoping in the entertainment industry yielding dramas and wisdoms that translate widely, from The Lottery's tale of fates beholden to chance and of being "Just an actor in someone else's show", to Bitter Bug's parable of on-the-road excess and its broken plea for "a shoulder/ Cos this world is getting colder", to Memoirs of Gray's deliriously harmonised observation that "Dreams make the waking life bearable".But Troubadour is no inaccessible self-indulgence, the album's plotline of struggling and hoping in the entertainment industry yielding dramas and wisdoms that translate widely, from The Lottery's tale of fates beholden to chance and of being "Just an actor in someone else's show", to Bitter Bug's parable of on-the-road excess and its broken plea for "a shoulder/ Cos this world is getting colder", to Memoirs of Gray's deliriously harmonised observation that "Dreams make the waking life bearable".
"It's about our struggle," Walsh admits, "but these issues and concepts are relatable. You'll find parallels even if you're not a musician, if you're a lawyer, or you work in a store, or you're camped out in the desert. Like, you don't have to live in the forest to appreciate Henry David Thoreau's Walden.""It's about our struggle," Walsh admits, "but these issues and concepts are relatable. You'll find parallels even if you're not a musician, if you're a lawyer, or you work in a store, or you're camped out in the desert. Like, you don't have to live in the forest to appreciate Henry David Thoreau's Walden."
Our editors' picks for the day's top news and commentary delivered to your inbox each morning.