Virginia Russo Joins Saul Seibert for Artists Showing Artists THIS THURSDAY


For the first installation of the Jasper Project’s Artists Showing Artists series taking place this Thursday night at 7 at The Living Room, Saul Seibert chose Artist Virginia Russo as one of the artists he would like to feature. 

Kara Virginia Russo is a visual and performance artist who grew up in the tiny lake towns of 1980's central Florida, before moving north and earning a BFA from Converse College in Spartanburg, SC. After living for a while in both Asia and Europe, she returned to settle with her husband and two children in South Carolina, where she splits her time as an artist between Columbia and Greenville. Her work has been shown in solo and group exhibitions from Charleston to Asheville.  

Most recently, she collaborated on Zion: a Composition by Saul Seibert, contributing album art, projection visuals, merchandise design and creation, and live ritual based performance art.



According to Russo, “My job as an artist is primarily to SEE, and only secondarily to communicate what I see. In expressing what is unseen (both within and without), I have found it helpful to use the visual language of an inner world I think of simply as The Planet. I like to explore the tension of navigating the wild terrain of the unseen from the safety of the imaginary. Think of my work as paintings, photographs, and explorer’s notes from a place you’ve never been, but one which feels immediately familiar.

“My pieces are built of layers upon layers of wet in wet watercolor and ink, relying on long experience to predict what the unleashed media might do, while staying open to surprise. Over the wet media (or occasionally under), I layer pencil, oil and chalk pastel, collage, and embroidery. I think of the wet media as attempts to paint mystery, and the dry media as attempts to expound and interpret to myself what I have painted, like notes in the margin of a well-loved book.” 

Russo continues, “My collaboration with Saul on Zion happened one day while he was looking at some of my recent work. I remember him sending me a message in response to some pieces that read simply, "I know this place."  I felt the same way the first time I heard the beginnings of the music. The work we've done together has been based on that ever since. We are artistically walking the same landscape. I see my role as simply making visible what is already there inside the music. When I listen to Zion, I'm transported to this place that is unique to Zion but is set in some other corner of my own imaginary world that all my work comes from. I can walk around, explore, see the features of this world, and then come back and paint it. The performance art is the same, I use the body as an instrument to convey visually the emotions and narrative of the piece in real time for the audience at live shows. I contribute all visual art for the project, from designing and hand printing the shirts, to the album art, to the bank of film that Ash Lennox, who does our live visual sets, pulls from. It's an incredible piece of music, and I still can't believe I get to collaborate on it. The musicians are phenomenal, I'm blown away every single time they play it.  

“Zion as a project was more or less part of my life as an artist for two years, from the very beginning of the project. It provided the steady thread all through an overseas move back to America, and all the transition that came with it. Zion stayed the same, I think the project kept me sane.  

“When the collaboration began, I had only been making art again for a year after a decade long hiatus. Zion provided the framework I needed to find my voice and confidence. I would ask Saul his opinion, and he would just say that he trusted me completely. I had complete artistic freedom, which was intimidating at first, but challenged me to grow as an artist in ways I'm grateful for. I grew into the project, in a sense. Every now and then, Saul would say something like "wouldn't it be cool if..." and I knew I was about to learn to do something I didn't think I could do. I picked up whole skill sets I had never tried before, ranging from stop motion, to illustration, to block printing. Saul had such confidence in my abilities, anything seemed possible. On top of that, Columbia has welcomed me into the creative community, and I can't imagine making art without all this support.” 

Join Jasper on Thursday night as we facilitate Rebekah Corbett’s project, Artists Showing Artists with Saul Seibert. Saul has invited poet-songwriters, Alyssa Stewart, and NoN (Keith Smyly), as well as his band King Saul and the Heretics. Art will be on display and available for sale by Virginia Russo, Adam Corbett, and Emily Moffitt. 

Tickets are $12 in advance and $15 at the door. 

The Living Room, 6729 Two Notch Road #70, Columbia, SC, 29223

Tickets

jasperproject.org/artists-showing-artists/tickets


Refillable Jasper cups for beer and wine will be available for $10 as well as hotdogs and a selection of baked goods. 

All proceeds go toward supporting the Jasper Project’s mission.

THE BEAT: My Favorite Music of 2022 by Kevin Oliver

The following is a list of my favorite music released by Columbia, South Carolina artists in 2022. It is woefully incomplete, as there were many other artists and albums I enjoyed this year, but these are the ones that have really made a home in my head for the foreseeable future. 

 

1. Saul Seibert, etc., Zion: A Composition

An extremely ambitious multimedia project is probably impossible to fully appreciate in just its audio form, but the three movements that comprise Zion are at least enjoyable that way, if not as mind-blowing as the full three-dimensional live experience. The ebb and flow of the various parts, instruments, and their arrangement throughout create a psychedelic space in which a listener can exist however they choose–passive acceptance, interactive challenge, or somewhere in between. 

Music | Zion. A Composition. (bandcamp.com) 

 

2. Lang Owen, She's My Memory

It’s not hyperbole to say that Columbia hasn’t ever produced a songwriter quite like Lang Owen before; his combination of 70’s singer-songwriter style and an incisive, observational writing technique would be rare anywhere these days. The songs here are his best so far and defy a simple paragraph explanation–so do me a favor, go listen and let them speak to you, too. To paraphrase “The Long Way,” he’ll take you the long way and then bring you back another. 

She's My Memory | Lang Owen (bandcamp.com)

 

3. EZ Shakes, Everything Changes

An Americana powerhouse of a band over their two full length releases, on this brief three-song EP, EZ Shakes announced their transition into a sonically more rock ‘n’ roll soundscape. The Velvets-meets-Neil Young feel of “Damn Fools” is driven by the most addictive two-note bass line ever, courtesy bassist Jim Taylor, while singer and bandleader Zach Seibert stretches his vocal instrument on “Waiting on the Bubble To Pop,” a Wilco-esque slice of sublime, chiming tunefulness that shifts gears effortlessly. It’s a cliche to say it, but the worst thing about this release is that at three songs, it’s way too damn short. 

▶︎ Everything Changes | E.Z. Shakes (bandcamp.com) 

4. Numbtongue, Phantom Limbs

Bobby Hatfield has been turning heads and ears with drama-filled rock since his days with The Sea Wolf Mutiny. As Numbtongue, his musical vision has only expanded, eschewing the limitations of a traditional ‘band’ with a combination of acoustic and synthetic sounds. On this new album, the arrangements are next level, with multiple themes threaded throughout and even the smallest elements adding texture and finesse to the songs. There are traces of everything from Radiohead to Tyler the Creator here arranged in chasms of genre and style that Hatfield not only manages to cross but bind together in a way that somehow makes perfect sense.

▶︎ Phantom Limbs | numbtongue (bandcamp.com)  

5. Brandy and the Butcher, Lucky Foot

There are female singers, and then there are frontwomen. Liz Hale is the latter, a blast-your-face-off vocalist who’s all attitude, all the time. The band has no choice but to keep up with her energy level, and they succeed handily here, diving headlong into a bracing set of songs that evoke all the great punk and rock raconteurs, from The Stooges and MC5 to The Cramps and X. 

▶︎ Lucky Foot | Brandy and the Butcher (bandcamp.com) 

6. Candy Coffins, Once Do It With Feeling 

Jame Lathren has a fondness for 80s goth-rock and the dramatic flair of David Bowie, and that comes through loud and clear on the darkly rendered songs here as he snarls and sneers. The delay effects from former Bachelors Of Art guitarist Tom Alewine don’t hurt in setting the proper mood, either. But it is Lathren’s songwriting that lifts this above being a simple genre exercise and into classic songcraft as he details the rise and fall of a relationship over the course of ten songs. 

 Candy Coffins (bandcamp.com)  

7. Moses Andrews, Exodus Pt II

Confessional songwriting is a genre unto itself, but Moses Andrews puts himself out there in ways not often heard with this collection. Contributing bass, drums, organ, synth, and vocals along with a supporting cast of locals such as Cecil Decker and Sean Thomson, Andrews touches on hip-hop, country, pop, and indie rock sounds in the process of illustrating the world through his own experiences with others. The mirror he’s holding up here is uncomfortable, but entirely accurate and needed. 

▶︎ Exodus Pt. II | Moses Andrews III (bandcamp.com)

 

8. Rex Darling, Living Room Diaries

One of the more adventurous live acts to surface in Columbia in recent years, this recorded effort delivers on that promise with atmospheric, exotic pop music that packs a surprising punch. There are traces of cabaret jazz and more than a little Amy Winehouse in vocalist Catherine Hunsinger’s style, while the guitar work of John Vail introduces jam rock and 70s fusion into the improbable mix. All that, and the songs are playful, inventive, and catchy as hell. 

https://open.spotify.com/album/2mfp1JvgUm5jguQeEXMBI2?si=TNuD1sLzQqCJyT5fwihboQ 

 

9. Todd Mathis and Clayton Mathis, Home

Siblings have made some great music together, but this is no sibling harmony album. Instead, these are the brothers who sit on their dad’s back porch reminiscing about all the shit they did to each other as kids. Steeped in family ties, this is some of Todd’s most endearing and accessible work.

Home | Todd Mathis, Clayton Mathis | Todd Mathis (bandcamp.com) 

10. Hillmouse, See You In The Car 

Tyler Gordon’s current musical vehicle is transporting a nicely done batch of new songs here, the kind of timeless melodies that evokes everyone from Tommy Keene to Ed Sheeran–a wide range, to be sure. His world-weary vocal delivery stops the proceedings from skidding into saccharine-sweet territory, instead parking Hillmouse in a post-emo lethargic swoon. 

▶︎ See You In The Car | Hillmouse (bandcamp.com)

 

REVIEW: CMA's Baker and Baker present Zion. A Composition by Saul Seibert

Zion. A Composition

Live at Columbia Museum of Art

Thursday, Nov 17th, 2022

Baker & Baker Series

by Kevin Oliver

An ambitious instrumental and visual art piece conceptualized by Saul Seibert with help from artist Virginia Russo, multimedia from Ash Lennox, and a cast of fellow musicians, Zion. A Composition came alive in multiple dimensions on Thursday evening at the Columbia Museum of Art, as part of their ongoing Baker & Baker concert series. 

Seibert opened the evening with a short explanation of the story behind the composition, and as he told the family background in front of multiple members of his own family in the audience, the anticipation in the audience built. The delineation of the three acts: The Diaspora, The Sojourn, and The Ascent, was a useful glossary of sorts for the crowd to reference, but as the piece unfolded, there was no visual division on screen or stage to indicate when one movement ended and a new one began. As such, at several lulls in the program audience members interjected applause and exclamations, seemingly unsure if something was ending or maybe just overwhelmed with appreciation of what had just transpired in a concluded segment.  

With two of the three movements already released for a while prior to this live performance, and the third just completed, it was still a much different experience watching the musicians perform the entire piece live. Left to right, they filled the CMA stage: Seibert’s older brother Zach Seibert (E.Z. Shakes) sat quietly cooking up some sinister electric guitar tones, Marshall Brown contributed keyboard swirls of varying tone and intensity, Kevin Brewer held down the beats even as they came and went throughout, Darren Woodlief, also seated, provided a solid bass presence that asserted itself fully in the final movement. Sean Thomson was the musical wizard of the night, starting on spooky, sensual sitar and moving to steel guitar and some wicked electrified mandolin. Seibert himself stood center stage, hollow body guitar in hand throughout, the ringleader of this spiritual, musical circus troupe.  

Every musical composition has an arc, that up-down movement that gives it an interesting story to tell. Zion’s first movement, Diaspora, came through as a slow-building bundle of potentialities, with the audience a bit on edge, unsure of where it might be headed, perhaps. The preshow preface alluded to one beginning to rid themselves of preconceived ideologies, attitudes, and casting those things out, and the music reflected such a sweeping task. Thomson’s sitar was prominent through the early passages, giving this portion a raga-like intonation that allowed listeners to settle into the aural universe of Zion.  

As the middle section opened up, the music soared, searching for those times of sojourn, as the movement’s title suggests–those places of rest, as one searches for home. At times the band resembled arena rockers on an extended jam, bluesy and blustery and supremely confident. In these sections, the drumming and the guitars evoked the percussive jazz plains of Steve Tibbetts’ 1980s work, or a more democratic take on the guitar orchestras of Rhys Chatham. In between those searing, searching sections the dynamic shifted to hushed tones, leaving sometimes a single instrument moaning, or clicking along softly as the band reloaded for the next swell like a surfer coiling his muscles for the next wave. 

It is in its final movement, however, that Zion finds, well, Zion. The Ascent is a lumbering leviathan of a groove, somewhere between Soundgarden-level grunge and the groaning Krautrock grooves of Can or Neu!, just a beast of a display anchored by Woodlief’s mammoth bass riffing. Again, however, there are interludes, lulls in the action. Life isn’t all one trajectory, after all, and neither is the ascent to Zion, musically speaking. The mountain does eventually get conquered, and in conclusion the music doesn’t so much fade away as plant itself on the peak and say “done.”  

Visually, artist Virginia Russo’s live painting/art added a facet to the proceedings that didn’t have to be there, but the performance was richer and fuller for it. As the band’s musical arc proceeded to rise and fall, so did Russo at the front of the stage, clad in black with a rolled out white canvas in front of her. She proceeded to paint over the entire canvas with her hands, no brushes, and then pick up the fully paint-saturated canvas and cut it into long, increasingly narrow strips. Those, she then rolled up before pulling them back apart, one ripped square at a time. The squares were then arranged on a new, clean white canvas to make a totally different piece of art. It was a perfect visual analogy for the thematic elements of the musical composition and served to reinforce those themes as the audience both listened and watched the proceedings.  

Other parts of her artwork for Zion were projected throughout as sometimes moving images on two large screens behind the musicians, lending a psychedelia gauziness to the already evocative visuals. 

Overall, I’d call this a nearly unqualified success, to write and perform such a challenging piece of multimedia art here in Columbia. I’m not sure I’ve seen anything quite like it locally, and Seibert’s prior resume as a garage rock raconteur certainly wouldn’t have hinted at the possibility of something like this coming forth. Going in, Seibert told me himself that there would be very, very limited live performances of this project, and I understand why–the preparation and commitment of all the participants was fully on display for this one.

Saul Seibert invites Columbia’s artists to trade in their cool kid membership.

Don't let the bastards get you down. Imposter syndrome is real. Keep healing, growing, and fighting regardless.” 

 
 

Saul Seibert, frontman of former band Boo Hag, and creator of the four-part artistic experience, Zion, has become a surprisingly positive and encouraging force in Columbia art’s scene. His newest band, King Saul and The Heretics, released their first single “Grow”, on September 2nd along with a video that features a number of well-known Columbia faces. Read what Saul had to say about his new band, playing music sober and the Columbia arts scene. 

JASPER: What spurred King Saul and The Heretics? How did the band come together? 

SEIBERT: King Saul and The Heretics is basically a catch all for anything I have written to date, or I am currently writing… outside of Zion. I asked players I've worked with in the past and a few I have respected and wanted to work with to help fill out the songs and contribute their creativity to the arrangements.

I am cataloging notebooks of songs and writing new material a little here and there.

 

JASPER: Who all is in the band and how do y'all work together?

SEIBERT: Sean Thomson is on keys and is a multi-instrumentalist. He is producing and recording the music. Andrew Collins is on guitar, Hot Tub John is on bass, Kevin Brewer is on drums, and Adam Colbert is on sax and a contributing visual artist. I sing and play guitar. 

Everyone is given freedom to build structure around the songs and write their own parts. I'm very fortunate to be welcomed into such a talented group of creators.

 

JASPER: How would you describe your sound?

SEIBERT: It's a mess. I honestly don't know.

 

JASPER: What inspired your single "Grow"? 

SEIBERT: Grow was written about two years ago. It was directed at my brother. I had recently gotten clean from cocaine and heroin and was looking at kicking booze. I went out into the woods for a few weeks alone and wrote the song. It sat in a notebook until recently. Its meaning is on the surface and remains the same: 

Don't let the bastards get you down. Imposter syndrome is real. Keep healing, growing, and fighting regardless. 

Zach and Darren Woodlief sat with me and brought me back to life. I owe them everything.

 

JASPER: What about the video for “Grow”?

SEIBERT: The video is an invitation to the broader community to leave the scene and cool kid culture, turn in your membership and start building real relationships that are healthy mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Don't posture. Produce growth.

 

JASPER: What do you want most for Columbia, and what changes would you like to see?

SEIBERT: I want Columbia to be known for its artistic infrastructure. Columbia has some of the best bands and performing artists in the south… period. Let's throw some light on them and let them shine! I use the term Cola Centric when talking about the city because we are unique.

You have more diversity than a lot of cities in SC. We could always do a better job at highlighting our cultural diversity and celebrating the variations of this.

My personal take is simple. The NY and LA art and music "scene" didn't just happen. It was built very intentionally …and not with a lot of the advantages of technology that we have today. Seattle in the 90s didn't just accidentally happen. We build the art culture we want and in turn get the art culture we deserve.

 

JASPER: What does your writing process look like? 

SEIBERT: It looks and feels like fucking hell.

 

JASPER: How has your sobriety impacted your music and creative process?

SEIBERT: I don't remember much about the previous decade. I don't know how it's impacted my process. I think it's possible I'm a better player and more honest of a writer. I would assume I'm easier to work with. Sobriety has only improved my production.

 

JASPER: When do you know something is done?

SEIBERT: I have never experienced this feeling. I imagine it must feel good.

 

JASPER: What advice would you like to give other creatives?

SEIBERT: Fuck pride. You are not famous or special. When you truly don't care what people think, you become a dangerous creator. It's my hope they are blessed enough to be truly cursed so that something absolutely beautiful can be brought into existence and speak and maybe even benefit the larger community. Fuck pride. Break rules.

 

JASPER: If each project you've been a part of was a living thing what would they be and why?

SEIBERT: They would all be buffalo.

You can see King Saul and the Heretics play their first show, Thursday, September 15th from 8-11pm at Uncle Festers with The Water Kickers, and Free Weed. See the Facebook event for more details.

THE BEAT: Kevin Oliver Reviews Sean Thomson's Self-Released Jank Volta

Columbia musician Sean Thomson first came to local music fans attention as half of the indie folk duo Post-Timey String Band, and he’s played in The Restoration, Marshall Brown, and the Rare Birds, and more including the upcoming “Zion” project from Saul Seibert. Then there’s the simultaneous stream of lo-fi mostly instrumental albums full of odd instrumentation and sounds, including several where he managed to acquit himself quite well on sitar, even. On this new collection of instrumental compositions, Thomson incorporates traces of all of those prior endeavors while crafting something meditative, intricate, and inventive. 

Even the song titles are creative and fun–with no lyrics, one can presumably name a tune anything, and Thomson manages to come up with delightfully playful names for all eight compositions here, some of which even have at least a tangential relationship to how they sound. “Large Indian Beer,” for example, incorporates some heavy sitar into its stomp-and-drone, while “Never Take a Sitar to Maxwell Street” answers the question of what Jimi Hendrix might have sounded like playing sitar.  

Occasionally Thomson gets serious, as on his version of Blind Blake’s “Sweet Papa Lowdown,” or on a nasty, fuzzed out guitar, or the sunny, island-vibe gone Ventures surf rock of the title track (featuring Jeff Gregory of The Runout on manic congas). More often, he’s enjoying creating brief musical worlds that manage to collide wholly different eras of music in under a couple of minutes. “Fungus,” for example, vacillates between Beatlesque chording and some unsettling electronica.  

The closing track has both the silliest title and the funkiest, slinky feel. “Yanni (heart) NASCAR” doesn’t seem to have anything to do with either cultural phenomenon, but the funk bassline and disco gone wrong atmosphere are undeniably catchy. As the tune slowly grinds to a stop like it just ran out of gas, all I want is to take it back out on the dance floor for another lap or two, along with the rest of this thoroughly entertaining album.

May The Flowers Fall At Your Feet By Saul Seibert

This is what I said in the doctors’ office before everything went to shit. 

"If I were able to go back and talk to the person I was then.... when it all started, we wouldn't be working through how it's all gone and why I am here...where I am, with you, in this fucking room, asking me these stupid, hypothetical questions that lead me to what ifs and guilt and regret!"

I scratched at a week-old track mark and noticed my left shoe was untied.

I was insulted and defensive…. just like a Narcissist. Two weeks later everything went to shit. The pandemic hit and everyone got pregnant, divorced, or died.

Eventually I started listening to my therapist and two years later I have finally begun to talk myself. 

The irony is that you have to talk to yourself to get healthy or better or find peace. I'd like to talk to you about it and I'd like to listen to you about it......so we can see each other honestly, with transparency......in the right light….with love……as it should be.

A few weeks ago, I was able to attend a few performances by some up and coming younger artists doing a short regional tour. There was so much talent on the stage.  

Every night the energy was electric. 

They were all so beautiful. 

They were buzzing and brilliant and they were superstars and I loved them.  

They wanted loved. 

I worshipped them. I adored them and their youth. 

I yelled at them like an old, dumb, proud parent. 

My heart was full. 

They stood strong on stage and owned the space....hiding themselves and then exposing themselves....so cool and so vulnerable. 

They poured out like the Passion and shoved their blood and guts into my face. 

The movement, the music, this ancient art was shed for us, for you and for me! 

Each creator a craftsman, perfect in their nuances. 

I was voyeuristic while they were being crucified, died, and would rise again....every night....for us......for you, and for me and on the third day of the tour I recognized these saviors as myself and I cried in their faces........these future creators. 

It was beautiful. 

It was pure and toxic. 

It was heaven on earth. 

It was perfect and it is broken.

 

This is the absurdity. 

There is an absurdity to it all and here is the conversation I would have had with myself eight years ago. 

“The lights. Beware of the lights. They are beautiful but beware. The lights are violent and will pick a fight with anything that is perceived as a threat or competes with its illumination.... of you. The flowers will fall at your feet and valuable things can get left behind in the promise of potential future illuminations…….and more flowers and more lights. These illuminations will present options and the options are infinite and the infinite options that the illumination has enlightened you to promise to provide a pleasurable feast for you...to feast on.....forever.”

 

Here is the abridged version. 

“There will never be enough.

There will always be more. 

It will end."

 

Learn what it means to say,  

“This is my portion. 

It is enough and I am grateful.”

 

If I could go back and talk to myself (which I have) I would tell myself to try not to take myself too seriously and to know what matters and that, ultimately, the lights don't matter but they will show you who and what you truly are ...and that matters. 

 

 

For almost eight years I've been telling bars and clubs to please avoid using strobe lights during my shows.  

This is due to my Epilepsy. 

It triggers seizures. 

Last week while playing one of our last shows....the lights slapped me in the face.

It felt like I had been struck by a bolt of lightning. 

I collapsed on stage in the middle of a performance and had a seizure in front of not a few people. 

It’s never pretty.  

There’s piss and blood and slobber and I cry and contort  and convulse and crumble into myself a thousand times over.  

I am emptied and it hurts everywhere because now everyone knows I'm just another meat sack like them.  

I recall dragging my fingers across a sweety piece of wood strung with steal trying to find sounds that made people move while I was quaking inside and singing with a marbled mouth and blurry vision. 

The lights.

Those goddamn lights.

 

 

The next day I woke up bruised and sore and confused and grateful. 

I began to talk to myself…….my present self and my future self. 

I said these words, 

"This is my portion, and it is enough. I will live in light of that freedom right now, today."

 

This is what I said.

This is what I would say now to you my dear friend.

 

May the flowers fall at your feet. It is good to be celebrated but then 

Pick them up, smell them, breath it in deep……. and then throw them at a yonder stage and remember that this moment  is your  portion, and it is enough." 

Saul Seibert on Jealousy

As Kyle Petersen described him in a 2018 profile he wrote on Saul Seibert and his older brother Zach Seibert for Jasper Magazine, “… Saul is a consummate frontman, with a steady intensity that crackles with a voodoo-like mysticism punctuated by unfettered, anxious hollers that bring to mind the most wiry aspects of early post-punk.”

greeneyedjealousy.jpg

It’s hard enough being an artist and dealing with the difficulties the outside world sends your way — money problems, relationship challenges, and the general drama of daily life as a human — but when you add in all the internal battles specific to being an artist, a person whose job is basically interpreting life, processing feelings, and sharing it with the world, it can get seriously rough.

Saul Seibert has been at this battle for a while now. The 44-year-old musician and, let’s-face-it, philosopher, has become one of the Columbia music scene’s leaders, of late, cranking out stellar albums and hard-hitting performances alongside Scott Tempo in the band, Boo Hag.

This morning on social media, Seibert shared his take on dealing with one of the demons most of us don’t even want to admit we have caged up in the back room of our minds — Jealousy. Jasper was moved and asked Seibert if we could wrap his words of wisdom up in a tidy little package and share them with our readers.

He graciously agreed, and here you have it.

Competition motivated by jealousy can often be the Achilles heel of any artist or progressive movement and it's ugly. Guard your heart from such an insidious seduction. Here are a few things you can do to avoid such a pitfall.

1. Posture yourself in such a way so as to learn from those who have gone before you and ask questions.

2. Don't trust all your judgments and seek out council from your peers and other proven people in the art community.

3. Don't pretend. People are smart and can spot a poser.

4. It's ok to be an asshole, (the industry will make you one and that's ok) … just don't be a dick. There's no excuse for that.

5. Apologize and ask for forgiveness.

6. Fail. It's good to fail.

7. Sometimes the critics are right and sometimes they are wrong … either way they are in general paid to write about what you do. Take it on the chin and put it in box under the bed. Remember they can't do what you do.

8. Build relationships with younger players and performers and model the movement you want.

9. Look up the definition of "Service".

10. You are dying. Remember that. In general, that can kill a jealous mood.

Saul Seibert and his beautiful mom, Brenda Seibert. “She taught this outlaw kindness.” — Saul Seibert

Saul Seibert and his beautiful mom, Brenda Seibert.

“She taught this outlaw kindness.” — Saul Seibert

Ony's Bands - Boo Hag

boo-hag Ony Ratsimbaharison is a local musician, writer, and blogger and member of the band fk. mt. Jasper asked Ony to write a regular feature profiling local bands -- getting at what they're doing, why they're doing it, and how it's going. If you'd like to see your band profiled in What Jasper Said, send Ony a message at JasperProjectColumbia@gmail.com with the word ONY in the subject heading and she'll, you know, take it under consideration.

Ony's first few bands are a half dozen talented groups who will be working with the Jasper & Muddy Ford Press franchises over the next few weeks by playing at in-house sponsored events. Boo Hag, Los Perdidos, and Jackson Spells are all performing next Sunday at Tapp's Arts Center (7 pm) for the launch party for Tommy Bishop's new book, The Incredibly Strange ABCs. Here's a look at Boo Hag, by Ony.

[embed]http://jaspercolumbia.net/blog/?p=8432http://[/embed]

Boo Hag, which formed in June 2015, is a local hard rock band consisting of drummer Scotty Tempo and guitarist and songwriter Saul Seibert. Their latest self-titled album, which came out July 30 of this year, is a collection of macabre-influenced psychedelic songs, with song titles like “Monster,” “Hokus Pokus,” and “Crypt Keeper,” just to name a few.

Their interest in the macabre and horrific is evident in their name, which is derived from a Gullah legend. A Boo Hag is a mythical creature of the Gullah culture that, according to folklore, is masked in a person’s skin, which it sheds at night to ride living victims in their sleep, draining them of their energy. Their music aims to evoke the spirit of this myth through concepts like ritual and horror.

Seibert recently moved to Columbia and is from New Orleans, where, he says, a lot of his musical influence comes from. “Plain and simple we are kick-you-in –the-teeth, kerosene-driven, lightning-in-a-bottle rock and roll,” he states. Their writing process is somewhat unique and specific, which Seibert informs us of in the following excerpt from an interview.

Boo Hag will be performing alongside local psych-rockers Jackson Spells and surf rock band Los Perdidos on Sunday September 18 at Tapp’s Arts Center for the book launch of The Incredibly Strange ABCs by cartoonist Tommy Bishop.

art by Tommy Bishop


Six Qs for Boo Hag

Can you describe what your music is like? Boo Hag dabbles with the macabre and psychedelic aspects of rock n roll. We are loud, hard, dangerous, and serious. Boo Hag doesn't really come with a lot of bells and whistles… We do what we know to do.

What are your songs typically about? Some of the songs are simple and straight forward and not overly complicated… but most of the songs take on a narrative approach, and deal with a range of social issues and/or personal struggles.

What is your songwriting process like? I usually hide. I engage in ritual. I get up at 3:30-4 am every day to meditate and then write music or do personal journaling for a few hours every day. I also smoke copious amount of marijuana and walk my dog in the woods. After I have completed a song, I record it and send it to Scotty to listen to. We play through it a few times during practice and then move on. We let songs breathe and rest, and then when they are ready to be played again, we work on them. Scotty gets me in a way a lot of players don't and when you have that as a writer, you don't really fuck with it too much. He plays an equal part in the music of Boo Hag and a powerhouse. He is also my friend.

Who/what are some of your main musical influences? New Orleans jazz and Memphis Blues... What else really matters in the end?

What is your overall philosophy as a band, if you have one? As a band, I believe our philosophy is to simply create and have fun doing what we love doing. We are a live act and that is where we thrive. In the end, we just want people to celebrate the music with us.

What is your vision for the band/the band’s future? We will see what happens. We have no intention of slowing down, we’re both driven people.