Anthony Walker's Blog

Anthony Fiumano and The Medicine Chest
CD Release Live @ The Saint,
July 26,2008

I can remember first meeting Anthony Fiumano a few years back and recall being somewhat intrigued by the gangly kid with sunglasses, cigarette, and the big Martin guitar.I had once been quoted here as saying that Fiumano was "poised to take his genre to its own gritty level" and while that's sounds kind of highfalutin', I think that call was pretty accurate, as he has come so far as both a writer and a performer. And part of that journey has been to transition into a band endeavor as many soloists eventually do.


Early formations were a test run of sorts and you could tell he was searching, trying to put it all together in a non-conformist way. That isn't easy to do, believe me, just because you have drums, bass and guitar up there behind you doesn't mean that it's going to be a good representation of who you are. It takes lots of determination, practice and forethought to pull it off right. Especially when everyone seems to prefer the performer as a solo. But for this Saturday night record release, Fiumano was ready and so were his top-notch Medicine men.


The Medicine Chest is made up of some of my favorite musicians in the area. Guys like Tommy Strazza, who can lay back behind Anthony's vocal or tear it right out of the floor Tele style and Eric Safka on The B3. What can you say about Safka? Every band that sees him onstage has to have a B3 guy in the group after that, it's just the way it is. He's responsible for backing many of the top groups in New Jersey.It's just a matter of time before Eric is on the big stage. I hadn't met bassist Mike Parker or drummer Eric Novod, but they both rounded out this highly capable band with style.


Watching Fiumano with this band was sort of like watching someone ride a rodeo bull. Watching him lead his band through a solid set had me laughing out loud and saying "All right Anthony!" Fiumano might look like a kid, but he possesses the aura of someone who's been up there for 20 years. The release of his new album When Strangers Say Hello introduces Fiumano's new live sound in a forceful direction while still retaining some of his acoustic signatures that got him noticed in the first place.


"When Strangers Say Hello" is a solid intro to the Medicine Chest. Produced by Jerry Collier, the record is smartly done and features some older stuff as well as new tunes with this current band. Great additional steel man Bob Egan (Wilco, Freakwater and Blue Rodeo) tracked on one of my favorite cuts titled, "The Year Of the Flood.
" Egan's ethereal groans of cold rolled steel support Fiumano's plaintive vocals and bell clear acoustics with a solid arm as Fiumano paints his picture of hard times in a non-forgiving scenario of worldly existence.


Another favorite of mine is one of Fiumano's older tunes, "Queen Of Diamonds." A laid back folkie waltz in the traditional vein of Tweedy or Young, it pulses along with sun drenched harmonicas and one of the toniest guitar leads I've heard in a while, courtesy of a guy named Marty O'Kane, a guitarist I don't know but intend to meet soon. Another highlight on the record is the aptly named "Myths And Strings" which uses call and response vocals and shimmering truck stop guitars to lead the band into the fray, kicking in with a rock cacophony in the vein of Soul Coughing with Fiumano's vocal taking on a Billy Corgan-ish nuance and bringing him to a very different corner of the ring than he's been accustomed to in the past.


"Darlene," a solo number, somber and clever, with the line "You've read so many books you only dream in ink," which is classic Fiumano in this "get away" love song hit."Restless" is another great tune that reminds me of good-era Tom Petty, with its guitar vamped verses and roughly hewn vocal wails, Fiumano gets his point across and shows us all that while this may indeed be a big, big band, he's in control and on a roll. There are many other great songs on this disc and I can only say go get one. You'll be glad you did.


I have been quoted by Anthony in the past, and I hope he uses this next one too because it's an accurate statement. Fiumano and The Medicine Chest manage to control several compositional styles and still retain the original essence of his folk beginnings, and that ability has paid off in the form of packed rooms and pillaged CD racks throughout New Jersey. Nice job Anthony. I also want to mention opening act The New Rick Barry's who were exceptional. I look forward to hearing more from Rick as he steps into a whole new set of great tunes and with a tour on his horizon.

For further information head on over to myspace. com/anthonyfiumano.


- John Pfeiffer

So, I recently did an interview with Joeseph Hannan of The Signal, and he published an article in the latest edition. So check the article out here at:

http://media.www.signal-online.net/media/storage/paper771/news/2007/08/29/Entertainment/Fiumano.Summons.Folk.Legends.On.Debut-2941041.shtml

They couldn't print the interview in its entirety, however, you'd like, you can read the unabridged version of the interview the article was based on right here:

Growing up, I was immersed in music as far back as I can remember. My father was always in bands and they'd be practicing in the basement and I'd be sitting on the steps, taking it all in, kind of amazed of how it all came together. There was always music playing, always instruments around.

Also going to church as a little kid. The church we went to had live gospel music, with a whole band playing right next to me. I can remember being three years old, sitting there with a toy guitar in church and playing along with the band, I thought I was part of it, I wasn't there for any kind of message, I was there to jam.

I started to write songs a few years ago. I already knew my way around the guitar a bit, so it just came as an extention of my playing. After I had written a few songs, I started playing them for peple, mostly at my high school or at friends' houses. At that point I had no intentions of ever becoming a singer because I couldn't even carry a tune. But I liked singing my own songs, so in a way I was forced to figure out how my voice works.

My creative process is to kind of not have one. Writing songs is something that just happens to me. You listen to a lot of writers talk about their process and some of them talk about just grabbing a lyric or melody out of the air. It's almost as if you're a big antennae that's waiting to get hit by a signal. Sometimes it happens and sometimes it doesn't, and when it does, sometimes it feels right, and sometimes it doesn't. My songs are the ones that just felt right to me. That's not to say that I don't get inspired by something, or that my songs are completely non-topical, but my inspiration is more subliminal. I'll finish a song, read it over, and go "Oh, yea, this song is about this or that."

A song like "The Year of the Flood," I wrote in about ten minutes. Others I had to put down for a while and come back to, they just took longer to take shape. Some writers have a very different method. They're trying to get to the chorus before the track gets to the 0:30 mark, or they're working with a formula and slaving over a hook or bridge. I don't really get too caught up in that kind of thing, I think it's obvious if someome listens to my music. A lot of the songs don't even have choruses. Some of them are six or seven minutes long. I write a song, and if I like it, it's done.

The songs are minimalistic, but at the same time, it can be unbelievably complex. That's one of the things that first drew me into playing folk music. It's organic and pure and just feels important to me. It's something that's been around a lot longer than me, and while I don't consider myself a folk musician, there is a folk component to what I do. I never really thought about whether or not it's more or less restrictive than other genres from a creative standpoint. I don't find it any easier or harder to write a folk song than a rock song or some other genre.

I don't think you can really debate the timelessness of folk music. It's been around for so long. When you listen to folk music, a lot of it feels timeless, but I don't think that's unique to folk music, I think just about any kind of music, and any kind of art, can be timeless. That's why we talk about dead musicians in the present tense.

I do draw a lot of inspiration from the music of the 60's and 70's. It was a great time for music, and if it wasn't, people wouldn't still be listening to it. Kids are picking up Beatles and Pink Floyd records every day. There were less "regulations" back then, and I think artists in general felt a little less pressure on having immediate success. So their music was more honest and lasting.

Now, record companies and the music business in general are spending a lot less time and money nurturing the artists and will dispose of them quicker and it shows in the music. The musicians themesleves have been caught up in the rush to make that "quarter profit." That's not to say there's not good music coming out now. Great songs are written every day, but you have to know where to look to find it.

The people that inspire me are the people that are making honest music, outside of any restrictions. Growing up, Led Zeppelin, The Who, The Beatles, Hendrix, The Stones, and all those classics, all made me want to pick the guitar up, then once I did I fell in love with the Blues. I'd play along with Muddy Waters albums. Then I started listening to a lot of folk-based music. I've kind of gone through this chronologically backwards progression, but it's cumulative, I never got into something new and stopped listening to what I loved. My music collection has taken on a life of its own. I love the blues and old country music, R&B, classic rock, modern rock, some jazz, you name it. This has all made me appreciate where things are coming from, you can see the way music has evolved and then it makes it easier for me to place where I fit in.

It's funny that you mention the "Sky Blue Sky" record because it's in my CD player right now. Wilco is one of those special bands that don't really come around too often. Like all the really great bands of the past, they were never afraid of reinventing themselves and that's what keeps things interesting from album to album. Jeff Tweedy is a first-class songwriter, and of course that's at the heart of what they do, but musically there really aren't two Wilco records that sound the same. Sonically, they've been considered experimental and cutting edge, but at the same time they've put out two albums of Woody Guthrie songs. They're not afraid of following their own inner-direction. In a way they've beaten the system, because unlike a lot of other bands that have been around a long time, they haven't made any concessions. Not to mention, I've had the pleasure of seeing them live a few times as well, and they're just an incredible live act, so they embody a lot of my aspirations, even beyond the record making.

I think it's important to reinvent your music, but I also feel like it's important not to force that reinvention. It has to be a natural progression. The record that I'm making now is in a way a comprehensive look at where I am now. There's folk songs of corse, but there's also a few hard rockers on there. And just as the new Wilco album is tinged with jazz in some spots, some of the songs on my record are tinged with country, R&B, blues, psychedelia, etc. I've always experimented in multiple genres because my tastes were never one-sided, so most of the different music I love is represented somehow in my own.

My lyrics are an extention of my songwring. I think when people first hear my music, the lyrics are one of the first things to grab them. Sometimes I do get a certain inspiration and write a song about something. Sometimes I just scribble and they come out cohesively. Most of the time, it just happens. It's not a thinking process for me. The thinking process begins after I write something and I'm trying to understand what just happened.

In this reflection, I find that a lot of my songs deal with luck and life. I write about rejection and acceptance. I write about paranoia and perserverance. I sing about my friends, family, aquantences, and strangers. I'm inspired by the passion and the fear that I see in the world and this terrible war. The haves and the have-nots. The information and the disinformation. The rubberneckers and the restless. The things that we all see everyday. I just feel the need to write about it.

"When Strangers Say Hello," is a very unplanned record. A lot of bands really spend a lot of time mapping a record out before they record, and that was never my approach. When I play with my band live or when I'm writing a song, I have a very "let's just play and take it from there" attitude. I didn't really see a good reason why I should have a different approach in the studio. What it comes down to is that I play music, and regardless of whether the microphone is going to a P.A. system or it's going on tape, I'm playing it more or less the same way. Bands used to record like that all the time and that practice has kind of fallen out of favor in a sense, but for me, I felt like that was the right way to make this record.

I'm making this record with my band in an intimate basement-studio. Jerry Collier was cool enough to let us come in and use his place to make the record. This is the first real record I've ever made, and it's been a real learning experience. I'm used to a live atmosphere, and in that kind of setting, there's an energy between me and my audience. Even if it's not a big crowd, I put a certain amount of energy out there, and they give it back. It becomes a ping-pong game. I'm used to that always being there, and in a recording studio, that is obviously absent. So, in a way, that's a challenge for me because the audience that I'm playing for is probably miles and months away.

I'm hoping that when this record comes out, it's an honest depiction of what I can do live, because at the end of the day, I'm really a live performer. There's not going to be a whole lot of bells and whistles, it's just the songs the way that I hear them in my head. It's easy to get a little carried away with all of the technology available, but I've avoided that and I'm confident that this is the most honest record I can make. I think people are going to hear that and I think they're going to recognize it.

In the past, I've had experiences playing with a band and without one. They're basically the same, but the nuances of each are very different. You are definitly more exposed in a solo performance. There's no noise to hide behind, every mistake is obvious, and at first, you do feel the pressure of "carrying the show" all by yourself. However, you can connect with your audience in a way that you can't with a rock outfit behind you. The lyrics come across better, and people get to hear the songs the way that I wrote them. In a way, you're more free to take the songs someplace else.

When you're playing with a band, you can't get to carried away, because you have to play together, you can't throw in an extra chorus or change the tempo out of nowhere, or anything like that. However, you're in a position where you're playing with a group of people who you can bounce off of musically. This kind of opens the songs up and you can take them to the next level. It's a very different energy, onstage and with the audience.

What it comes down to is that when I'm playing solo, there's more of a performer-crowd dialogue and when I'm playing with a band there's more of an on-stage dialogue. Both can be beneficial and both can be negative, it depends on how you use them. I don't really have a strong preference, it kind of depends on my mood.

I've been playing solo for the last year or so and have recently been in a position where I could form the band that I wanted. I don't look at them as a backing band, because I don't place myself ahead of them. My band, The Medicine Chest, consists of members of other bands that I admire and have always wanted to play with. Some of them are old friends and some of them are new friends.

What I look for is people that are at that next level of musicianship but know that the most important thing is to get the song across. I'm a songwriter, so of course, I'm looking for people who are going to play for the song, but at the same time, I think musicianship is important. I can honestly say that my role in this band is as a singer and a songwriter, as far as musicianship goes, these guys take my visions and make them a reality. Playing with them makes me play and sing better and it makes me want to write better. Right now my band consists of Chris Smith from The Chilling Details, one of my favorite Jersey bands. Eric Novod, who's played with many bands in the past, is on drums. Mike Parker, my bass player, has been playing with me since we were in high school. And Eric Safka, from Paperback Radio, has been playing Hammond Organ with us, and he's one of the most talented musicians I know. They're all really easy to play with. I think most songwriters make the mistake of going for "the backing band." That's a valid approach, but I always want my band to play with me, not for me. That's how The Medicine Chest works.

It seems to me like the New Jersey music scene is both dynamic and inspired. With bands/acts like The Gay Blades, April Smith, Readymade Breakup, The Molotov Cocktails, Val Emmich (the list goes on)…it seems like the Jersey scene is on the verge of musical supremacy. Where do you see yourself in the context of these acts and the New Jersey scene? Do you feel as though there's something about the state that lends itself toward great music? What are some of the challenges particular to the local scene?

Well, the bands that you've mentioned are some of my favorites. I think some of them have names that the whole country will be hearing in the future. I've done shows with all of them and feel priviledged to have shared the stage with some of them. I think there's something special happening in New Jersey musically, especially in the Asbury Park/New Brunswick scenes. However, not taking anything away from New Jersey, this is where we live, and this is where we see the local talent. I think people all over the country see their own local talent and think it's special. And it is. There's great "underground" music happening everywhere and it's important that, whereever you are, a person should go out and support the musicians in their community, regardless of whether they're a musician or not. Every person has the option of going out to a club where there's a CD playing or to a club where a band is playing. Go and support the band! It's not a chore and it's not a favor. Find a band you dig and support them as much as you can. You're going to have fun, and at the same time you're enriching our collective culture.

When I started playing music, I was focused on playing my own music and trying to get as many people as possible to hear it. Of course, I'm still doing that, however, I now realize that this thing is bigger than myself. There's many talented musicians and songwriters doing the same thing. So that's where I fit in. I'm a contemporary of these artists, but also an advid supporter.

This particular scene of New Jersey faces the challenge of being in one of the most densely populated regions of the world. Furthermore, the local scene is so dense that there's multiple music scenes within New Jersey and New York, and a musician needs to focus on becoming a part of all of them. A band in Idaho doesn't exactly face this challenge. There's less going on in certain areas of the country, so if you're band has a gig at a local bar, that may be the only thing going on within a twenty mile radius that night. Here, musicians really have to work to make sure that people are going to see them because there may be three or four other things going on that night on the same block.

There's no doubt about it, being a musician is not always glamourous. Thanks to our media, it's often portrayed as a party lifestyle. In a way it is, but I've also played shows and had to sleep in the back seat of my car all night. It's no Ritz.

If you want to be a musician for a living, you have to work for it, just like anything else. I can speak for any serious musician when I say that this is what I want to do for the rest of my life. And regardless of my situation I always will make music, however, it takes a lot to make music at a level where you don't have to also have the dreaded day job. You're constantly encountering unsympathetic cut-throat club owners, abyssmal financial situations, long hours, and a multitude of other problems that most people wouldn't put up with. But then again, most people aren't as passionate for what they do. So we all deal with it.

And to the aspiring songwriter. As cliche as it sounds, everyone needs to simply be themselves. Even an undiscerning audience will be able to tell if you're trying to be something you're not, and that's the kiss of death for a musician. Don't worry about what people will think. If you like it, someone else out there will as well. If you put your soul into your music and you change it to sound like someone else or because you have a bad experience then why are you doing it in the first place? You also have to have a tough skin. You're going to have good nights and you're going to have bad nights. Everybody does, even the best, and we all get hung up on it, but you still do you're thing. I'm not one to really be giving advice, but if you really love it, you won't need any, because you'll keep doing it, and you'll learn it all on your own.