The Foghorns Go To the Stars on the Wings of a Pig and Bring Back a Gem That's Both Substantial and Listenable
Foghorns' absurdly titled LP opens with an ominous thud on the piano, a desperate strum on the guitar, and the repeated moaning of "Please, don't you leave me now." You can hear drums, faintly, rustling and stirring in the background, intended to be felt more than heard. Halfway through opener, "Please Don't Leave," an accordion enters the gentle country melee.
For 45 minutes, Pig scarcely rises above a simmer. Songs run together, and there's faint textural and tempo distinction between the album's 10 tracks. The Foghorns aren't reaching for new ground, but are comfortable being themselves, well insides the plucky intersection of saloon-ready twang and urban folk. This should be blasé, repetitive, and numbingly obnoxious. But it's not.
Its effortless, cool demeanor blunts any hint of redundancy. Pig is one of the most substantially listenable local albums of the year; easy to access, and hard to put down. It's soothing and comforting in the right ways, without being excessive or cheap. Its subtleties - hints of organ and accordion -- are smooth, but smart. Easy listening doesn't have to mean easily forgotten. CK (Chris Kornelius)
The Foghorns – To the Stars on the Wings of a Pig
(2011, Knick Knack Records)
Count this review as anotherin a long line of conflicts of interest here at the Blog ‘o Wax.The Foghorns are a Seattle by-way-of-Wisconsin outfit led by one Bart Cameron, who happens to write for this fair site and be an all-around good egg. Cameron’s Foghorns, from a distance, play traditional American music – touching upon country, folk, and even gospel with notable skill, taste and restraint. Get a little closer and the songs on To the Stars on the Wings of a Pig, the band’s latest LP, reveal themselves to be funny, bitter little laments about the hell that is other people and, quite frankly, ourselves. Despite the context clues of traditional instrumentation and standard folk song structures, the Foghorns craft savvy, biting reproaches more in line with Dylan’s “Positively Fourth Street” or Lou Reed’s Sally Can’t Dance than a knee-slapping hootenanny. “Je Deteste” combines a smattering of French lyrics with a dusting of honest creepiness via lines like “little girls, oh how they do confess/and when they do they whisper/ so they keep you guessing.” “More Than Jesus” is a jaded homage to carnal delights while “Wedding Bells” teeters between a lovelorn lament and a callow kiss-off. “We Could Never Be Friends” expresses a delicate, refined sense of resignation. It’s a mature, satisfying bummer of a song containing the best line on an album full of good ones: “Well I been to your parties/the only truth at your parties/comes when the party ends.”
The Foghorns’ songs are thoroughly American songs about disappointment, screwing, being shallow and finding some kind of peace with being flawed. To the Stars on the Wings of a Pig is a quietly stunning piece of work and, on beautiful blue vinyl, an album worth having on hand for whenever the mood strikes. The Foghorns will be playing an early (like dinnertime early) show at the Comet this coming Sunday, September 25th.
(Tractor) Seattle-by-way-of-Iceland country-rock combo the Foghorns
(who are signed on Wisconsin label Beefy Beef Records to make things
even more geographically confusing) are, to put it mildly, a band with
catholic tastes. They've stocked their repertoire with a couple of
traditional waltzes that sound like something the Smithsonian recorded
in Appalachia in the 1950s, but they can also let go with a Black
Lips–style stomper when they're ready to rock. One song, "Old Bachelors
in Cleveland," twangs like a country song, but sashays with an
honest-to-God hula beat. The Foghorns could very well be the local band
with the biggest arsenal of genres in their pocket, and they're
definitely the best country band in Seattle that can also whip up a
catchy synthesizer riff at a moment's notice. PAUL CONSTANT
Like a modern-day Woody Guthrie, Foghorns frontman Bart Cameron has
traveled all over this wide world, singing folk songs while meandering
ever westward toward the region to which the folk music he plays can
trace its roots. Last year, Cameron came to Seattle, added a couple
locals to the band’s roster and wasted no time putting out a fifth
album on weensy Wisconsin label Beefy Beef Records. The Foghorns’
recorded incarnation features minimalist, introspective strumming,
judicious use of twang and a languid pace. New Foghorn Katie Quigley
serves as Bart Cameron’s vocal echo, which lends a ghostly, somber feel
to the music, doubling the emotional wallop of Cameron’s lovelorn
lyrics. But this isn’t happy-go-lucky jug band music; by and large,
these are woeful songs about the hard times. It makes sense, then, that
Cameron tends to favor locales where the winters are dark, damp and
cruel. His is not music to dance to. His is the kind of music you put
on at the end of the party, just as the last few people are stumbling
out the door, someone’s puking from accidentally drinking a big gulp
from a can filled with cigarette butts, and you’re the last person up
but can’t go to bed because your most lascivious friend is getting laid
in your room…even though it’s your birthday. Sometimes, there’s nothing
but the music to comfort you – and that’s why bands like this are so
very necessary. With Product of Mexico, Proud Wonderful Me. SARA
BRICKNER
Every Monday through Friday, we deliver a different song as part our Song of the Day podcast subscription.
This podcast features exclusive KEXP in-studio performances, unreleased
songs, and recordings from independent artists that our DJs think you
should hear. Each and every Friday we offer songs by local artists.
Today’s featured selection, chosen by Afternoon Show Host Kevin Cole,
is “Old Bachelors in Cleveland” by The Foghorns from their album A Diamond As Big As The Motel 6 available on Beefy Beef Records.
This week DJ Kevin Cole has taken us on a musical journey that has
spanned not only several genres but also the globe. Today’s artist has
done that as well. The Foghorns are the brainchild of Bart Cameron who
originally hailed from Wisconsin and formed the band as an outlet to
play bluegrass/rock music before moving to Brooklyn, NY, where he
performed with members of the Cobble Hillbillies. As if that wasn’t
enough, after receiving the prestigious Fulbright Scholarship, Cameron
packed his trunks once again, this time for Iceland. There in addition
to his studies, he spent a few years touring the country (often only
with a bucket player as accompaniment) and playing music festivals
including the Iceland Airwaves music festival. Cameron and the rest of
the touring band now reside in the Emerald City and bring us their
fifth studio release from the Wisconsin-based label Beefy Beef Records
(where according to their website, “so much is at steak”). Today’s song
“Old Bachelors in Cleveland” is in a similar vein as fellow Seattlites
The Duchess & The Duke (folkadelic) but still maintains its
bluegrass roots and instrumentation (namely the slide guitar). The
lyrics, laden with melancholy and the harmonies of Cameron and vocalist
Katie Quigley invite listeners to continue that journey Bart Cameron
started so long ago.
You can catch The Foghorns at the Blue Moon on November 13th and a few other places around town. Check out their MySpace page
for dates. There’s plenty of videographic evidence of The Foghorns
various incarnations between Seattle, Brooklyn and Iceland and their YouTube channel. Here’s a version of “Sleepy Waltz” recorded at the Tractor Tavern just three days ago!
There’s a growing number of country-based folk bands appearing
throughout the Seattle area and the latest to warrant your attention is
the male/female duo The Foghorns. This week they released their new record, A Diamond As Big As The Motel 6, on Beefy Beef Records.
Their home may be Seattle, but they’re not strangers to the world,
having resided everywhere from Ireland to Wisconsin to Brooklyn.
The Foghorns’ old-time country-folk is filled with emotive verse,
lovable in all its harmony, and the perfect lament for the wanderer.
Songs like “Not Every Horse” are ripe with emotion, while others like
“Rose” and “Old Bachelors In Cleveland” are just plain excellent.
“Brooklyn Bridge” even pulls out pop keyboard riffs and jangle guitar!
These tunes easily place The Foghorns in company with The Banyans for the best new Seattle folk band of the year.
Next week The Foghorns exit the state of Washington for a tour across the country in support of A Diamond As Big As The Motel 6,
hitting some favorites, including Moscow (ID), Minneapolis, Omaha, and
Eugene along the way. For a full list of dates, head over to The Foghorns on MySpace.
From the Weekly Volcano
September 02, 2009
Foghorns celebrate CD at the Jive
MATT DRISCOLL: THE FOGHORNS TALK … AND TALK AND TALK >>>
Earlier this week, in preparation for their CD release show this Friday
at Bob’s Java Jive in Tacoma, I got a chance to correspond — via e-mail
— with Bart Cameron and Katie Quigley of The Foghorns
— a band self described as “mavericks of anti-folk.” Seriously good —
both live, and in interview, as I found out — The Foghorns are a band
you don’t want to miss — meshing non-boring folk with Icelandic roots,
a dab of punk ethos and a spritz of Wisconsin charm to create one of
the most buzz-worthy bands that’s hit town in some time.
Here’s how it went. …
WEEKLY VOLCANO: Take a minute to explain the progression of
this band. Wisconsin, to Iceland, to Seattle — it's been covered, but
still, it's of interest. How did you get to where you are today, and
did you envision this when you started? How heavy is the Icelandic
influence, and how does that show up in the music? What's one thing
about Iceland everyone should know? How about Wisconsin?
KATIE QUIGLEY:
Well, I think only Bart really knows … and I think he likes it that
way. Everyone in the band knows bits and pieces of the story ...
probably not the same bits. I mean, we all know the gist: Bart moved
back to Wisconsin after a rough time in New York, met up with the
Firchow boys and wrote some songs. Then he moved back to New York and
played those songs with a bunch of Brooklyn bluegrassers (now known as
the Jones Street Boys) and at some point thereafter he landed a
Fulbright and moved to Iceland, where he played for three years —
getting electrocuted and playing with a bucket player (just like it
sounds) — who eventually became the first foreign-born member of
Icelandic Parliament, before moving to Seattle and meeting Rich and I.
I might know more here and there, but it really doesn't matter. What
is, is what Bart has managed to do by only really providing these
bullet points in the plot: he's allowed each musician, and even every
listener, to fill in the pieces by themselves. I can't speak for anyone
other than myself, but this has allowed me to almost romanticize the
"story" of The Foghorns ... and in turn, the songs themselves: Maybe
Bart was a hitman and "Rose" was his partner. Maybe it was really him
in "North Dakota" who said, "Help me God." Maybe he just sat on the
couch for a year after having his heart broken and dreamt up these
stories ... Either way, he lets you decide. And as a musician helping
tell these stories, whatever I believe becomes another element ... I
become another character in his "novel" and for the "reader" there is
yet another possibility of the truth.
I can't speak to how
directly the songs are influenced by Bart's time in Iceland, but I can
only imagine that they would be. Otherwise, we have two Icelandic
members ... which absolutely influence the songs ... I'm not sure I
could pinpoint how or what they do that is particularly "Icelandic" but
I'm sure if the right person was looking ... they'd find it.
One
thing everyone should know about Iceland: Icelanders aren't "cute."
They eat whale and puffin and rotten shark and sheep face. When you
(you sad, sad American) have managed to become intoxicated and reach
for the nearest glass of water … they mix vodka, water and a vitamin
fizz until you've sobered up and are prepared to continue. And if a
sheep rolls down a hill, they kill it and have it for dinner. Perhaps
you've seen Björk and you think they all wander around in swan dresses
and speak in sugary-sweet Icelandic accents ... but to assume all
Icelanders are the same, would be a big mistake. (P.S. it’s pronounced
B-YUR-K … I think)
I don't know too much about Wisconsin myself,
but I know the Midwest in general has heavily influenced Bart's
songwriting, this album in particular.
BART CAMERON: I don't tell these stories because
they're awkward. All of it has been intense as it went along, but it's
hard to summarize. Here's the history, leaving out some personal stuff.
I'm from Wisconsin and played punk music for six years there. A
couple years later, I'm living in New York, the attacks happen,
personal stuff goes wrong, and I decide to go to Wisconsin, (I didn't
move — I visited for a five days) find my old band mates, and write
some songs that might be important to me.
Mainly, one guy
showed up, this brilliant mathematician and composer, and we took
baroque songs and made them into country punk. I brought my CD back to
New York City, gave it to my friends. About two weeks later, I had all
these bluegrass kids say they'd help me put on live shows. Bluegrass
and punk in New York are closely related (CBGB's stands for country
bluegrass and blues). Anyway, that worked. These incredible bluegrass
musicians started playing, they later formed Jones Street Boys and
Kings County Strings. And I'd get up and sing these folkish songs.
I
think we were somewhat of a curiosity. And I think maybe playing in
front of those musicians, you could fart into a trumpet and sound good.
I
had a policy that we'd only make 200 of every CD we released. We'd be a
strange Brooklyn phenomenon. I thought that if I did maybe 10 CDs, I'd
be writing pretty decent songs at the end of it.
Then I moved to Iceland on a Fulbright Fellowship.
There's
a ton of ways Iceland reshaped the Foghorns. The loneliness of moving
to a country where you know no one, don't know the language, and are
living in a basement writing a novel for a year.
But direct
influence came when I worked as a journalist and music critic and then
editor of the Reykjavik Grapevine. With that job, I interviewed
hundreds of musicians, and listened to thousands of CDs.
For some of these interviews with Icelandic musicians, we'd actually end up talking for days. When Sigur Ros released Takk,
they invited me to their studio, for example, to preview it. Kjartan
explained to me how to play the glockenspeil. Jonsi and I debated
lyrics and vocals in pop music. The band Singapore Sling, their
songwriter showed me how he wrote, why he wrote. Benni Hemm Hemm did
the same. The songwriter from mum, he ended up being a neighbor, and we
talked about songwriting for a day. Mugison has some amazing thoughts
on this stuff.
Every musician in Iceland had one thing in
common: they all believed in the mantra “Don't think it, play it.” They
all felt you had to assume anything was possible in your music.
I
still talk with those guys about songwriting a lot. They're very aware
of their decisions, of being expressive in their music.
Without their help, it would have taken me another 10 years to get to this album.
One thing about Iceland: art has helped them get through a lot.
One
thing about Wisconsin: Wisconsin is content to be its own entity —
everyone from Wisconsin feels they have something at stake in the
community, and those of us who left, like me, feel shame for abandoning
it.
VOLCANO: Who's in the band and why does it work?
QUIGLEY:
Currently, The Foghorns are Bart Cameron (primary songwriter, lead
vocals, guitar and harmonica), Rich Quigley (slide guitar and organ),
Bára Sigurjónsdóttir (tuba and bass), Kristján Oli Pétursson, "Kopur"
(drums) and myself, Katie Quigley (vocals). This current group works
for many reasons, but probably none so significant as simply the
technical skill each musician brings to the group. The talent allows
for improvisation and a sense of ease, or maybe one of reassurance ...
especially playing live — if something changes, everyone is right
there, capable of changing as well. That alone is great, but paired
with an openness we all share, to reinterpreting songs, and perhaps one
of the most brilliant things about Bart's songwriting: the malleability
his songs possess, we whittle and form each song into its best possible
version ... and the best part, it's never-ending ... I think as long as
we play together, even if we never played anything new, these songs
would continue to change and develop, to the point a person who hadn't
heard them for some time, might not recognize them as the same.
CAMERON:
Yeah. Katie says it better than I can. The band works, because the band
is not me. I seek out personalities who understand the point of the
songs, and make them their own. Nobody plays the songs as they're
written.
VOLCANO: Have you made decisions in your life
specifically with the band in mind, or have the twists and turns of
life simply dictated what the band has become? If this were a high
school history textbook, what key events would you say led you to this
point?
CAMERON: Decisions ... I have made
sacrifices for the band. I've quit good jobs, and those kinds of
things. But I've also deflated the band, made things more difficult. We
got going in Brooklyn, and I moved for academic and personal reasons.
We got going in Iceland, really got going, and I moved so my girlfriend
could get a Master's degree at UW. And I moved to Seattle, which is not
a good town to play music in.
Then again, those moves were somewhat with the band in mind. I've never wanted to get stagnant. Personally or artistically.
High school highlights for getting to this point are extremely difficult:
9/11 (I wonder if every high school highlight starts with that)
Me leaving Brooklyn for Iceland
Iceland Airwaves 2005, where we played a great stage and experienced “buzz”
Our 2006 tour of the U.S. (smaller band, but Kristjan was there)
And me joining Blue, Pig then stealing Rich and Katie Quigley
Our Hollow Earth Radio broadcast in 2008.
VOLCANO: Talk a little about Diamonds as Big as the Motel 6?
It sounds like it was a long time in the making (if I'm not mistaken).
Take me through a little journey of the creative process. Did you have
a goal in mind when you started, or did it just turn out how it turned
out? Have you had time to digest it yet, and are you satisfied with
what you came up with?
CAMERON: I had a
concept, this particular concept, for about five years. I did a popular
album in Iceland called So Sober. It had these brutal angry drinking
songs all focused on Iceland with lyrics like “this is a bad place to
be sober and awake.” I wanted to one day do something more focused and
composed about the decisions you make when you're grown up, the
compromises you make.
I wanted an album like a short story
collection along the lines of the Anderson book Winesburg, Ohio. And I
wanted a full, live band sound, not the bedroom recording style.
I
recorded all the songs ... quite a few times. Mostly on a four track
player where I'd play all the instruments. I did that for two years.
Then I pulled this band in, mostly members of Blue, Pig.
We
did a live show in my basement for friends and recorded that — about
half the tracks are from that. We recorded another three with the band
live, then going back and adding vocals. Then we used a track from the
four track, and a track from when I first was hanging out with Rich,
and he recorded me with a guitar in his basement.
I believe
most songs on the album were recorded, sometimes in different keys,
about a dozen times. And five songs I wrote for the album were cut.
This
is everything I could do with songwriting. When I listen to it, though
... I thought this would be our ultimate accomplishment. This would be
something that after 15 years of playing music, I'd have a pinnacle.
But it really sounds to me like more of a beginning than anything. That
surprises me.
[Bob’s Java Jive, Foghorns CD release show with Former
Foxes, The Variety Hour, Phantom Fireworks, Friday, Sept. 4, 8 p.m.,
2102 S. Tacoma Way, Tacoma, 253.475.9843]
Racine,
Wis., native Bart Cameron's band The Foghorns has certainly dragged his
songs through some odd journeys. Cameron first formed the group after
moving to Reykjavik, Iceland, to work as a journalist. After playing
around Iceland and even touring the States, Cameron moved to Seattle,
re-formed the band, and kept writing country- and folk-influenced songs
marked by numerous benders, freezes, thaws, and layovers, but with a
modest, even self-deprecating finish. Having introduced a new hometown
to its wry charms, the band's out on tour behind a new disc, the
wonderfully titled A Diamond As Big As The Motel 6.
From The Edinburgh List
The Foghorns - Henry's Cellar Bar, Edinburgh, Wed 5 Aug 2009
There’s something dark at the melancholy heart of lead Foghorn Bart
Cameron’s country-tinged missives of loves past, present and possible.
On a low-key two-date Scottish stopover in a stripped-back duo format,
some-time Reykjavik resident Cameron’s downbeat demeanour is offset by
the honeyed counterpoint of co-vocalist Katie Quigley in a short set of
gentle heartbreak. Standing side by side, Cameron in vintage suit,
Quigley swaying with hands in print frock pockets, and with only their
voices and an acoustic guitar for company, a doleful harmonica sets the
tone, with most songs drawn from this year’s Beefy Beefy Records
release, ‘A Diamond As Big As The Motel Six.’
Cameron’s milieu is
old-time booze-soaked laments deep-fried with dust-bowl languor. The
delivery is as contrary to the band name as possible, with only the
throwaway rites-of-passage boogie of ‘Brooklyn Bridge,’ when the're
joined by Iceland's own Benni Hemm Hemm on drums, coming close to
bottle-smashing clatter. Cynicism and idealism step out together on
‘Old Bachelors in Cleveland,’ a gentle sneer at aging singletons
once
the narrator’s own true love has come calling. This was presumably
written before the adulterous smooch of ‘Sleepy Waltz,’ which, like a
Raymond Carver miniature set to a slowed-down n’ woozy melody from The
Velvet Underground’s ‘I’m Sticking With You’, shuffles through its
after-hours liaison with a set of conflicting emotions that are as
bittersweet as they are unrepentant in a swoonalong song worth staying
out late for.
The Foghorns and Benni Hemm Hemm play Pivo Pivo, Glasgow, Thu 6 Aug
From The Reykjavik Grapevine, Reykjavik, Iceland
Sometimes you just want to kick back with a beer and listen to some
high quality tunes without all the bullshit. The Foghorns have it
covered with their folky jams. The band – a beloved mainstay on the
Reykjavík scene a couple of years back, until they relocated to the US
of A – are making their return to Reykjavik to celebrate the release of
their fifth album, A Diamond As Big As the Motel 6, written and
recorded in the American Northwest. The Foghorns are a tried and tested
live band, their melodies are sweet and the accompanying lyrics (by
former Grapevine editor-slash-legend Bart Cameron) make the mix one not
to be missed.
Also performing at the show is the one and only Benni Hemm Hemm, who
has long since ensured his status as one of Iceland’s favourite
musicians. The show will be held at Grand Rokk, July 29th, at 9 p.m.
Sit back and enjoy the music – this night is not to be missed.
The Foghorns, a band from Seattle with midwestern roots and
an Icelandic influence, will be playing Bob’s Java Jive again tonight. We
mentioned these guys before and we heard good things about the show from
you. Plus, we like the poster.
From Spew, The Weekly Volcano's blog, Tacoma Washington
5 Things To Do: Wednesday
MICHAEL SWAN:
WEDNESDAY, MAY 20, 2009 >>>
1. The
Foghorns’ music is a lot like their story: messy, weird and utterly
captivating. Their songs rattle and ramble like good tavern tales. They
beget more questions than answers. And you always want another round. Check
them out tonight atBob’s Java
Jive with Vacant Stairs and The Upperhand.
Wednesday, May 20
The more I learn about Seattle’s self-described “mavericks of anti-folk,” The
Foghorns, the less I seem to know. And the more I want to learn. And the harder
this article becomes to write.
I should have never interviewed Foghorns frontman and founder Bart Cameron.
Everything I needed for a boilerplate riff was right there on their MySpace
page: good tunes, a fun bio, even some tasty quotes. (My favorite: “If Bob Dylan
recorded a Philip Roth novel with Crazy Horse as a backup band, that would be an
enormous influence.”) But no, I had to peer into the soul of The Foghorns. I had
to know: What-makes-you-tick?
So I met Bart Cameron at The Red Hot for beers, and now I’m just confused. How
do you tell the story, in 325 words, of a band that started in Wisconsin, and
then shifted to Brooklyn, and then Iceland (Cameron scored a Fulbright to study
there), and then back to Wisconsin, and finally to Seattle? Oh, and then there’s
the part about how Cameron was underground on the subway — under Ground Zero,
that is — when the World Trade Center fell. And don’t forget the time he was
electrocuted onstage at a festival because the third-place contestant from
Icelandic Idol had spilled a bunch of water and Cameron’s shoes had holes in
them because he was poor as hell, so when he stepped up to the microphone …
bzzzzzzzzz! And was that in Reykjavik or Keflavik? And which one did you call
“The Detroit of Iceland?” And was that with the full lineup, or just you and the
bucket player? And what kind of bucket are we talking? Plastic? Metal? About how
big?
The Foghorns’ music is a lot like their story: messy, weird and utterly
captivating. Whether it’s just Cameron and a bucket man or the current ensemble
of five, their songs rattle and ramble like good tavern tales. They beget more
questions than answers. And you always want another round. — Mark Thomas Deming
[Bob’s Java Jive, with Vacant Stairs, The Upperhand, Wednesday,
May 20, 8 p.m.. $3, 2102 S. Tacoma Way, Tacoma, 253.475.9843]
In
the middle of some frozen nowhere, a man is warming up his poor raggedy
ass in a cabin, sipping whiskey and dreaming of home. He'd probably feel a
lot better if he could hear The
Foghorns, a band that recorded much of its album
New Low after a wearying trip from its Reykjavik base to
Brooklyn. Wisconsin native Bart Cameron and his Icelandic pals play
bluesy, folky tunes that make reliable companions in the middle of this
shitball winter. It's the kind of music that tired people play best, and
these folks were indeed pretty worn out by the time they started their set
Thursday night at Cafe Zoma, a cozy
coffee shop/venue here in Madison. Australian violinist Marisa Allen, who
has a project called
Bremen Town Musician, brings yet another welcome layer of melody and
warmth to the band's current U.S.tour.
Bart's got plenty of stories about his move overseas, and told some in an
interview for our local edition of
The A.V. Club. However, the song
"Golden Ghosts" (MP3) tells it much better. That version is from
Olympus, a free recording of the band's going-away show in Reykjavik
last year.
The Foghorns to blow sounds of ironic folk rock at the Reptile Palace
by Megan Sheridan, of the Advance Titan
Issue: Thursday, February 08, 2007
Added: 2/7/2007 11:16:55 PM
The Foghorns are smart, talented and hard working, but they do not in any way
take themselves too seriously.
“People try to take us seriously, and it gets depressing quick,” said Bart
Cameron of The Foghorns. “I know serious. I’m a friggin Fulbright Scholar.
Serious is a waste of time and, most importantly, a waste of good music.”
“Just ‘cause you’re serious doesn’t mean you’re good,” said Marissa Allen,
violinist for The Foghorns.
The Foghorns formed in 2002 with Cameron and brothers Steven and Kevin Firchow,
and has had a rotating lineup ever since. Cameron and Steven Firchow began
recording Foghorn music in Wisconsin and, according to their bio, Kevin Firchow
joined once he found out they were using his drum set.
“The Foghorns was the name of my recording projects that I did with Racine,
Wisconsin friends. I always asked musician friends wherever I lived to help,”
Cameron said.
In 2003, Cameron moved to Iceland and began working for the Reykjavík Grapevine,
an English language newspaper that provides information for visitors.
“I was in Iceland playing Foghorns music, and I toured with a band called Touch
that just started jumping on stage. And it suddenly made a lot more sense,”
Cameron said. “With Boddi and Kopur, I realized we actually had a band, and then
we asked Marisa to join in, and we were stunned that this worked.”
The Foghorns currently consist of Cameron on guitar, vocals and harmonica;
Boduar “Boddi” Reynisson on bass and vocals; Kristjan “Kopur” Petursson on
drums; and Allen on violin. The Foghorns consider Iceland to be their home base
although Cameron now lives in Seattle and Allen resides in Australia.
“Iceland is our home, as a band. Reykjavik and especially Isafjordur in Northern
Iceland have been incredible to us,” Cameron said.
Since 2002, The Foghorns have released four albums on indie label Beefy Beef
Records.
“We made a Foghorns record and we thought we’d give it out, but we went through
300 copies in a couple weeks and realized we could sell them. I really hate
selling things, and, at the time, I was teaching English and selling short
stories and it just seemed like a bad idea to get distracted, so these friends
from Wisconsin offered to help,” Cameron said of Beefy Beef Records.
The Foghorns recently released “New Low” which was listed in the top 30
Icelandic albums of 2006 by the Reykjavik Grapevine. Their music is a
combination of folk, blues and rock and is described by them on MySpace as “A
Wisconsin pool hall. Or a Sunday morning Reykjavík hangover just after your
first piece of bacon.”
Playing live shows is one of the things that The Foghorns both enjoy and pride
themselves upon. At times, their live shows have consisted of a full band, a
single person or two people with a guitar and a bucket.
“We once toured Iceland on a bucket and acoustic guitar, and it worked because
we refused to stop practicing and playing until it was something worth seeing,”
Cameron said.
They admit, however, that playing in the United States is far easier than
Iceland because of the language barrier.
“Brooklyn and Madison, Wisconsin are great, and as a songwriter, it’s a little
easier performing for people who understand English easily—I didn’t realize the
songs were funny until I played in Madison and they wouldn’t stop laughing and
let me play the second verse of ‘So Sober,’” Cameron said.
Shows in Iceland end up with a little different response from the crowd.
“In Iceland, people don’t start laughing until half an hour after the show is
over,” Reynisson said.
Regardless of what they play, or where, The Foghorns promise a good show.
“You should expect to see a band playing their guts out. We’ll do it with
anything we have, everything we have,” Cameron said.
The Foghorns will play at The Reptile Palace Friday Feb. 9 at 10 p.m. with
Machine Gun Joe. The show in Oshkosh was booked not by chance because Cameron
enjoyed the venue and some of the bands that played there.
“I was in the Midwest interviewing Garrison Keillor, and I went to The Reptile
Palace and saw Machine Gun Joe, and I thought it was the goofiest, most
beautiful, most Wisconsin thing I’d ever seen. I knew if I ever had a chance,
I’d go to that bar, and play with that band. This Oshkosh gig is the reward of
the tour, it’s our chance to really have fun and enjoy ourselves,” Cameron said.
The band urges UW-Oshkosh students to come out and see the show because not only
are they talented musicians, they’re good looking.
“We’re beautiful,” Reynisson said.
“It’s true. He’s Icelandic and beautiful. I’m from Wisconsin, so you can see me
cause I write songs that will get you through winter,” Cameron said. “This album
we’re touring on, it’s about life in a pretty difficult place, and I think it
reminds you of how beautiful and sad the struggle is.”
“Bart, you won’t make it on your music. It’s gonna be your looks,” Reynisson
replied.
The song performed in the video clip, "So Sober," can be found in another
live version on The Foghorns' 2006 release New Low. The album's liner
notes provide a brief history of the group:
Bart played the Foghorns in the New York bluegrass community from
2002-2003. Then came the Iceland bucket experiment. The success of the
bucket experiment, and the limited release album, So Sober, led to
the new Foghorns four-piece band. That band recorded a double album
throughout the United States and Iceland, and released it in October 2006 in
Iceland after a series of performances at the Iceland Airwaves festival.
There are also video clips for two other songs performed by The Foghorns in
town. One features the groupplaying "Lullaby,"
and the other focuses on the end of the concert when theyperform "Wake Up."
More information about the band can be found in anarticle
published by the UW-Oshkosh Advance-Titan, and in a
profile provided by the Iceland Airwaves festival. More of the music is
available for listening on the band'sMySpace page.
If you're traveling to Iceland, one good place to see if The Foghorns are
playing is The Reykjavik Grapevine,
an English-language alternative-format magazine published 18 times a year.
Cameron edited the publication before turning more of his attention to music.
Lineup: Bart Cameron,
vocals/guitar/harmonica; Bodvar Reynisson, bass/vocals; Kristjan Oli Petersson,
drums; Marisa Allen, violin.
Genre: Icelandic folk
rock.
Web site: thefoghorns.com
or myspace.com/thefoghorns.
Formed: Right after the
events of Sept. 11.
Signature sound: Hard to
nail down, but vocalist Cameron says the closest he can decipher is "if Bob
Dylan did punk." Then there is the incessant, driving beat of a drummer who
"keeps going and going," so fans know there's just no standing still.
"It's definitely not
something (where) you sit there and stare and go 'oh my God, that guy's
brilliant.' You have to move with the music," Cameron, 30, says.
Vision in the Fog: When
the band began, Racine-native Cameron (now based in Seattle) says it served as
an outlet for expression, wrapped around what happened on Sept. 11. After
putting out some CDs, it suddenly became a success.
On the road now, "we just
try to present something as honest as possible. We sing in a way we're not
hiding anything," Cameron said. "We strip everything down to try to talk to the
audience."
Icelandic influence: Going
to school at UW-Madison years back, Cameron quips that a slip-up in class
schedules led him to take Icelandic Literature, and later, he applied for an
Albright Fellowship to finish a novel in Iceland. That's where he started
throwing parties with another musician, a guy who'd hit a bucket while Cameron
played guitar.
"I started getting invited
to go out. I was playing all over Iceland with this guy beating a bucket," he
remembered with a laugh. Soon he found a full band lineup, and The Foghorns
played bigger festivals, including a 13-hour concert where the bucket
resurfaced.
In their iPods: When
they've got down time on their American tour, The Foghorns posse plugs into a
vast spectrum of influential Icelandic, mainstream and indie artists. Groups
like The Black Keys, T Model Ford and Benni Hemm Hemm rock their headphones.
Then there are acts like Sigur Ros, Bjork, The Killers and Ben Kweller.
See them: Friday at 10
p.m., at The Reptile Palace, 141 High Ave. in Oshkosh, with band Machine Gun
Joe. No cover. Fans also will be able to get a copy of the new album, "New Low."
Why you better be there:
"The music's pretty (darn) good … it's actually, like, a band that you can
probably relate to," Cameron says. And, The Foghorns firmly believe in earning
their audience. "We try to play places where we will really surprise a crowd,
and get a 'oh, they're actually good' moment."
Published in:
Issue 18 on Friday, December 01, 2006
The Foghorns have been pretty active in the music scene the
past couple of years, playing numerous shows but never drawing a big crowd. The
brainchild of former Grapevine editor, Bart Cameron, this release was partly
recorded live in Reykjavík and partly in some (I imagine) seedy locations in
Brooklyn and Wisconsin. The sound is rough and lo-fi but perfectly fitting the
Bruce Springsteen folk-punk rock (think Nebraska, not Born To Run). Lyrically
it’s an album of sorrow, sadness and longing – the bitterness shines through. It
sounds honest and raw with a feeling of intensity; as if the band has a point to
make and really, really wants the listener to get it; as if they care about
their work, getting the music out just to get it out and not because they think
it will make them lots of money. It won’t. So throw all the money you can spare
at them because this is a fucking great CD.
Some news from
Iceland now. Or from USA via Iceland. Bart Cameron and Paul Nikolov are the
prolific editors of an english languagenewspaper in Iceland, about Iceland and Icelanders, the target group
being tourists, but equally read and enjoyed by locals as well. They also happen
to beThe Foghorns, an interesting, lo-fi duo consisting of Bart's singing
and guitaring, and Paul's appalling yet strangely enjoyable banging on an
enormous steel bucket, thus providing what might be called a beat of some sorts.
Now I haven't seen them play in a while, but I've heard they've expanded their
live set, indeed it seems the band has up to 8 members currently.
Here's what they
have to say about themselves:
From Brooklyn, Bart
went home to Racine Wisconsin and put together the first Foghorns album in
summer 2002. Another one came along in 2003, with Bart beginning to scrounge
Brooklyn for live musicians. With his move to Iceland, he found new sounds. The
Foghorns now often feature a bucket, flat-picking guitar and harmonica. In 2004,
the Icelandic version of the Foghorns released So Sober, and they have since
played regularly throughout Iceland. 2006 will see the release of another
Wisconsin album, New Low, a re-release of So Sober with live tracks, and quite
possibly, a new Iceland album. All albums are limited in distribution. On sale
at 12 Tonar, Smekkleysa or Naked Ape or the live shows.
You might wanna
check out theirofficial home page, theirmyspace page or begin by downloading a few tracks to have a nibble.
And read theirmagazine while listening.
Airwaves / Grand Rokk, 19 October 2005:While
they were setting up their equipment, I checked the festival guidebook to find
out where The Foghorns originated. Sadly, all the guidebook could tell me was
“Respect the bucket”. As it turned out, those three words spoke volumes.
I’m not a fan of country music – it’s rare for me to enjoy a harmonica – but
something I was discovering was that Icelandic musicians have a habit of
twisting genres into their own Icelandic style.
As it turns out, although The Foghorns are based in Iceland, they are also
based in Minnesota, USA. Therefore, all I can suspect is that the music is
entertaining because it sounds like a humorous version of Bob Dylan. Stand out
lyrics are “This is a bad place to be sober … and awake”, and “I’m a filthy old
man you date ‘cause you got nothing better to do.”
What
is most important about The Foghorns is that I mention the performance given by
the drummer during their set at Airwaves. For the first song or two, we watched
the drummer slowly setting up his kit – the percussion meanwhile being provided
by “Das Bucket”, a man and a large washbucket. Then he looked like he was about
to do something. Close to the microphone, this enormous viking of a man daintily
held a triangle in his left hand. In his right hand he brandished the beater
while a look of concentration crossed his brow. The air was thick with
anticipation as the song being played at the front of stage seemed to blur out
of existence. All eyes focussed on the hairy man about to make a sound so
delicate it would seem to absurdly contrast against his enormous frame. Then he
put his triangle and beater away without doing anything at all. We were puzzled.
Then later in the song he lifted it to the microphone again, waited, then
returned it to its place on his lap. This happened for the rest of the set. Our
silent drummer lifting and lowering his triangle while sitting behind his
equally silent drum kit. I had another act to race off and see, but if it wasn’t
for this drummer, I’d have been there on time. Instead I waited through three
more songs waiting to see him deny the tiny triangle its sole reason for
existing. I’m told he did play the drums for the last song in The Foghorns’ set
but, for me, that could ruin the spectacle.
In my personal opinion, The Foghorns at once provided the most frustrating
and yet exciting show of Airwaves’ opening night. Not because of what they did
but because of what they did not.
The Foghorns
It’s a long way from Wisconsin to Iceland, yet with frontman Bart
Cameron editing the Reykjavik Grapevine, The Foghorns have been
racking up the air miles points since they made the move to
Reykjavik in 2003. A dynamic band to say the least, The Foghorns
have repeatedly demonstrated their adaptability. Not for them a
cowardly fear of change. Nope, with origins in punk, melodic rock
and the Icelandic studio scene, The Foghorns have proven their
versatility in every atmosphere. Back when they played in Brooklyn
before moving to Iceland, The Foghorns used six-piece bluegrass band
The Cobble Hillbillies as an orchestra. In Iceland, in more keeping
with their surrounding they have used a bucket player who goes by
the stage name Das Bucket. As you do. Innovative, witty and always
fun, the Foghorns blast through all the stormy change that comes
their way.
[MM]
MUSIC PREVIEWSListen to BigTime 4Play
tracks (up to four times each) via your Windows Media Player. Just
click on the track name below. For details on how BigTime 4Play
works and what you need to use it, clickhere.
• 4Play: Foghorns - Go
My Number Zerohere • 4Play: Foghorns
- Puppies Crowdhere
On Wednesday (the opening night), only four of the six Festival venues hosted
shows, which made choosing bands ultra easy and allowed some extra leeway to
learn the ins and outs of Reykjavik's 101 area. I decided to spend a majority of
the night at a pub called Grand Rokk, where I was pleasantly surprised by most
of what I saw from an almost all-Icelandic lineup. The opening act had a killer
name, Vaginas, but their sloppy Rock and Roll sound didn't do the name justice.
The next act up was a group of young Icelanders by the name of Benny Crespo's
Gang that had the tight sound and drumming of Demure-era Engine Down and
combined that quite nicely with a dancy keyboard riff or two and male/female
trade-off vocals.
The Foghorns followed up next with an equally impressive set, although the
musical differences between the two acts couldn't have been greater. Where the
Gang went for noisy rock and aggression, the Foghorns were a Dylan-esque
singer/songwriter by the name of Bart Cameron being backed up by a percussionist
playing a steel bucket. The members of the Foghorns are Americans that live in
Reykjavik,
and just happen to run the alternative English weekly, Grapevine, but I didn't
know these facts while watching them and they were listed in the Airwaves
magazine as an Icelandic band so the singer's American accent was more than a
little jarring.
...and so we shuffle along in the painful cold to host the opening night of the
festival, expecting a collection of delicate Icelandic singsong bands. Grand
Rokk is the venue for the evening,
Iceland's
answer to the
Dublin
Castle
in terms of lack of ventilation and space. Old men cower by the one armed
bandits in the downstairs, whilst the kids upstairs thaw out with a few swift
whiskeys. Climbing the stairs, we're greeted by a dose of Irish Pogue skiffle
delivered by 'The Foghorns', who with more pots, pans and buckets they could
make the Mystery Jets jealous. Following them are Vax (pictured above), a
band who's front man has vocal chords that have been dragged down a
cheese-grater. With this distinctly Irish start to the night, it feels a million
miles away from the preconceptions of Icelandic culture. The queue goes round
the block, and it quickly becomes apparent that it will definitely not be a
quiet Wednesday night.
TELL US A LITTLE BIT ABOUT YOURSELF/YOUR BAND? "A collective based around Bart Cameron, the Foghorns rock (that is
rockabilly mixed with country and folk). When Bart moved to Iceland, the
band got weirder, with a new lineup, including bucket players, violinists,
various oddballs. Lyrics are supposed to be a feature..Bart wrote and taught
fiction and poetry in Brooklyn
before Iceland happened. But the Icelanders in the band are good and have made
the music genuinely musical."
WHAT CAN WE EXPECT FROM YOU AT AIRWAVES? "We´re coming home to Iceland, we´re releasing our new album. You can expect
an end-of-the-world show: we´re playing for our friends one last time before
setting out on US tours."
WHAT DO YOU PLAN ON SEEING AT THIS YEARS FESTIVAL? ANY FAVORITES? "Absolute favorites are Icelanders Benni Hemm Hemm, Skakkamanage, Reykjavik!,
I Adapt, My Summer as a Salvation Soldier, Dyrdin, Mugison, Lay Low and the Nine
Elevens, all better bands than are playing anywhere in the world. As The
Foghorns are leaving Iceland and
we have to watch a bunch of hacks imitate their favourite lo-fi bands off of
Pitchfork, we´re looking forward to seeing real music. For foreign bands,
Brazilian Girls have an amazing lead singer, Walter Meego have a good vibe, and
I´d like to see Nico Muhly and The Cribs. Still, if you´re an Icelandic band,
this is a chance to support your friends, so I doubt I..ll get out to the
foreign shows."
ASSUMING YOU HAVE ATTENDED THE FESTIVAL, WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE AIRWAVES
MOMENTS? "I´ve attended often. Kira Kira and Eberg put on great shows a three years
ago, both were weird, charming, and not very well-attended, so you lost the
lame-ass festival feel and got instead a circus side show.. that´s the best part
of Airwaves, the organizers put great bands on at the same time as they have the
big name iPod draws. Two years ago, I Adapt and Æla rocked out a small stage at
Grand Rokk to absolute mayhem. I also enjoyed it when we got to play an outdoor
concert, last year, in 0 degree weather, for our fans who couldn´t get into our
show. A bunch of high school kids and Lithuanian soldiers started dancing with
us. It felt like the real population of Reykjavik
was finally getting to have fun at their own festival."
DOES A COMPLETE AIRWAVES EXPERIENCE INVOLVE GENERAL DRINKING AND DEBAUCHERY? "Not for me. Why drink when pleasant things are going on? Drinking is for
funerals or growing up in the Midwest, or
interviewing actors (I´m a journalist by day). No, if I see drunks and idiots
trying to hump people..s legs, and they..re at the festival, and they..re often
Australian, I just leave and find a different stage. My suggestion is find the
drunk idiots, find the industry assholes, and walk the other direction, and
you..ll have a great time."
ANY FINAL WORDS? "Forget your iPod, forget the guide, forget the lines. Walk around randomly,
experience Reykjavik,
and go to the stages that aren´t crowded. See an amazing set by a band you don´t
know and will never be able to see again. You can either go to a festival trying
to find out what..s going to be in NME or on the radio, or you can actually
experience it. These people who only listen to what hack journalists describe
badly remind me of Midwestern jocks I knew who only dated women that their
friends had slept with and reviewed well. Oh crap, that..s a weird sentence."
The Foghorns – To the Stars on the Wings of a Pig
Like a modern-day Woody Guthrie, Foghorns frontman Bart Cameron has
traveled all over this wide world, singing folk songs while meandering
ever westward toward the region to which the folk music he plays can
trace its roots. Last year, Cameron came to Seattle, added a couple
locals to the band’s roster and wasted no time putting out a fifth
album on weensy Wisconsin label Beefy Beef Records. The Foghorns’
recorded incarnation features minimalist, introspective strumming,
judicious use of twang and a languid pace. New Foghorn Katie Quigley
serves as Bart Cameron’s vocal echo, which lends a ghostly, somber feel
to the music, doubling the emotional wallop of Cameron’s lovelorn
lyrics. But this isn’t happy-go-lucky jug band music; by and large,
these are woeful songs about the hard times. It makes sense, then, that
Cameron tends to favor locales where the winters are dark, damp and
cruel. His is not music to dance to. His is the kind of music you put
on at the end of the party, just as the last few people are stumbling
out the door, someone’s puking from accidentally drinking a big gulp
from a can filled with cigarette butts, and you’re the last person up
but can’t go to bed because your most lascivious friend is getting laid
in your room…even though it’s your birthday. Sometimes, there’s nothing
but the music to comfort you – and that’s why bands like this are so
very necessary. With Product of Mexico, Proud Wonderful Me. SARA
BRICKNER
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Sometimes you just want to kick back with a beer and listen to some
high quality tunes without all the bullshit. The Foghorns have it
covered with their folky jams. The band – a beloved mainstay on the
Reykjavík scene a couple of years back, until they relocated to the US
of A – are making their return to Reykjavik to celebrate the release of
their fifth album, A Diamond As Big As the Motel 6, written and
recorded in the American Northwest. The Foghorns are a tried and tested
live band, their melodies are sweet and the accompanying lyrics (by
former Grapevine editor-slash-legend Bart Cameron) make the mix one not
to be missed. 
