Stephen Buono and Split/Red find their voice and get serious.
Please note: This article is published as an archive copy from Philadelphia City Paper. My City Paper is not affiliated with Philadelphia City Paper. Philadelphia City Paper was an alternative weekly newspaper in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The last edition was published on October 8, 2015.
With mushroom cloud hair and dapper dress sense, Stephen Buono is one of Philly's most recognizable music figures.
With mushroom cloud hair and dapper dress sense, Stephen Buono is one of Philly’s most recognizable music figures. When he doesn’t have a guitar in his hands, Buono is usually wearing his publicist’s hat — for Ars Nova Workshop’s events and the avant-jazz arm of Fully Altered Media. Right now, it’s his new ensemble, Split/Red, that’s making waves for Buono, co-guitarist Travis Woodson, bassist Matt Engle, drummer Ricardo Lagomasino and singer Nebadon Adams. On Serious Heft (New Atlantis), Split/Red’s debut full-length, they do some mean hardcore: crisp, vintage Minutemen/Fugazi riffs, wonky solos, political lyrics and a punk-funk/free jazz edge. Rolling Stone named them a 2014 New Artist You Need to Know, just in time for Serious Heft’s release gig, and, sadly, Buono’s going-away party, as he’s moving to Chicago for two years. “My sweetheart is getting her master’s there.”
City Paper: What does it mean to make and publicize music?
Steve Buono: I’m not comfortable replying to publicist questions. The two have nothing to do with each other. When I’m writing music, my day job does not inform it at all. Regarding publicity, it’s a struggle 75 percent of the time. There are great new musicians and records, but so few outlets, and it’s rare that a journalist will cover an unknown, or someone who is high profile, a legend or a young lion. Ya dig?
CP: I’ve heard you do jazz, blues and skronk in local bands. How’d you arrive at Fugazi/Minutemen-like hardcore for Split/Red?
SB: The “type” of music we do is a mistake. I didn’t set out to do music that sounded punk. I wasn’t someone that listened to much rock or “white” music. Growing up, I was obsessed with Public Enemy, militant rap and whatever was on Yo! MTV Raps. I discovered Bob Marley which totally flipped me out. Neither were heavy on the guitar thing. In college I tripped out on Delta blues, jazz, some Indian music. I started messing with guitar after college, but I didn’t take it too serious until my late 20s. I wanted to play music like Ayler, Coltrane or Grant Green, but when I tried, I failed. Nor had I played with a drummer. I met Jim Coughlin, and we played as a duo, and just raged with me trying to sound like Grant Green. What I did sounded horrible, but I committed to it. Then someone said I should check out the Minutemen. I could not get into it at all, but later checked it again and paid attention to the lyrics. My mind was blown. Their text was political, hilarious, beyond me, and with a bassist sounding like a punk Jamaaladeen Tacuma.
CP: There’s heavy riffology on Serious Heft.
SB: I have favorite guitarists — Bob Quine, Curtis Mayfield, D Boon, Mississippi John Hurt, Ribot, Frisell, Nels — but they are mostly virtuosi, and I don’t have the chops to replicate their brilliance. Our guitarist, Travis Woodson, is a beast, not to mention being a brilliant conceptualist.
CP: Was it hard finding a vocalist and lyricist? Was there a set of messages that you hoped to convey?
SB: We’ve had four singers. Finding the one has been hard. I love Aretha, Carla Bozulich and Victor Jara, but that doesn’t mean it will work with music I write. … In terms of the lyrical message, I rarely give tips. I write the songs, and name it according to something I am reading, or thinking. “Road to Aguilares” was a rare case where I asked [Nebadon Adams] to check this documentary on Rutilio Grande, which he did, and the lyrics reflect that. Neb reads and pays attention to the news, and is a deeper thinker than me, so I let him take care of it.
CP: What’s Split/Red’s credo?
SB: That’s an intense question. We’re all pretty intense about music, but when we get together, we are pretty lighthearted. Travis is hilarious, and I could listen to his imitations and commentary for hours. Personally, I don’t think about music that deeply. I just do it. I get way inside my head about things in my life, or the pain of others, but I’m not super-deep about my concepts. I am a fanboy, and spend time thinking about how amazing the music of others is, not my own stuff. I think [about] Violeta Para, Charlie Haden and Eyvind Kang a lot. Maybe I should be reflecting more on my own output.
Sun., Nov. 2, 8:30 p.m., $10, with the Bad Doctors and Blowdryer, Johnny Brenda’s, 1201 N. Frankford Ave., 215-739-9684, johnnybrendas.com.
