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Rock Is Dead, Let It Die

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*This article originally appeared in RVA Mag #36, on the streets now at all your favorite spots. It’s a special contribution from Nate Newton, a member of the bands Converge, Doomriders, and Old Man Gloom.

Rock and roll is dead. Each and every one of you need to hear this: you, the “real” fans of “real” music. Because, let’s be honest — it’s all about you.

You, who cannot believe these kids today and their awful taste in music — music you are not willing to understand. You, who “cannot stand this EDM shit.” You, who can’t stand all of this ineffectual “indie-rock bullshit.” You, who don’t get modern rap and hip-hop. You, who think this year’s lineup at Coachella (or any other festival) is “shit.” You, who constantly wonder where all of today’s rock and roll heroes are living, and where the rock and roll lifestyle migrated (hint: they’re rappers). You, who distinguish yourself in the wild with your natural bluster of, “There’s no good music anymore.”

Rest assured, I was once you.

Envision in our future a vast island of garbage, floating aimlessly in a dead ocean. Not one of trash, waste, and rubbish. No, this island of garbage will be built with vinyl copies of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours, made over and over for record store day, year in and year out — because the eight million copies already in circulation throughout America are somehow not enough. This island will stay afloat through remastering, remixing, repackaging, rehashing, and re-releasing every re-forgotten classic of utmost importance to the Baby Boomers and Gen X’ers.

Why? Because for them, there will always be an inherent need to buy the same album, over and over, for the next 50 years. Never exploring, never recognizing that the vast musical frontier is generational, and that every generation makes new music for their time. Instead we cling to a vast Pangea, whose bedrock is made of millions of Beatles anthologies and Led Zeppelin box sets. And on this supercontinent are mountains built by the Best of Chicago, and snow-capped with every useless copy of Whipped Cream and Other Delights by Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass.

This musical wasteland will always be adrift, like a massive, rudderless ghost-ship set to sea by the rock gods of our elders’ wonder years. Their gods can never be replaced. Should they be, the replacements know that they, too, may very well be replaced. So the mantra of “there’s no good music anymore” marches on, and with it, the generation of music fans who will always know best. The ones who still want you to know that The Who sang “Long Live Rock.” The kids are alright — didn’t you know?

In the end, the younger generation — the ones whose work you hate — are the ones driving creativity in 2019. They don’t care about your rock and roll; they’re worried about an uninhabitable planet, worried about affording a house one day, worried about crowdfunding their medical bills. They are definitely not interested in being told which rock and roll altar they need to kneel to. They’re on to the next thing, and thank fuck for that. They don’t need your old rock gods. It is time for them to make their own, and it’s time for us to make space. Nurture their creativity.

The island needs to be set adrift. Let the birds shit on it. Let the seeds be fertilized and sprout new musical life; a musical life we won’t understand. It’s time we let the island become an unrecognizable paradise.

The kids are alright… they always will be. Let rock and roll finally die.

Do. Not. Fucking. Resuscitate.

Photo by Rama, licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia

Music Sponsored By Graduate Richmond

Richmond’s Local Business Find Ways To Thrive In a Big-Box World

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*This article originally appeared in RVA Mag #36, on the streets now at all your favorite spots.

We live in a convenience-based society. Between Amazon Prime shipping various household needs straight to our doors, and food apps like DoorDash and UberEats keeping us well-fed without leaving the couch, it’s become more convenient than ever to satisfy all our needs online. As city dwellers, we want life to be easier, cheaper, and more convenient — and multinational corporations have become very skilled in fulfilling those desires.

But part of what makes Richmond so special to its natives, and to the consistent string of expats who flock to our streets, is the plethora of unique local businesses thriving in the city’s locally-oriented business districts. There is something for almost everyone here: from costume supplies at Premiere Costumes to used video games at Bits and Pixels, and comic books at Velocity Comics. Richmond’s merchants know how to do local business right; more importantly, the city’s residents do what they can to keep them alive. If Amazon is Goliath, neighborhoods like Carytown are our David.

Despite the looming outsourced shadow of big-box giants, local business tends to do pretty well in the city. While there is no such thing as an average day for any small business owner, there are still more ups than downs to owning an independent business, having no corporate man in the sky telling you what you can and can’t do with your store.

“There is no wrong way of doing things,” said Vinyl Conflict owner Bobby Egger. “If you get a wild idea that makes no sense to anyone but you, you can just go ahead and do it. I’ve come up with some of my best [and some of] my worst ideas that way.”

“We are controlled locally, so we can order the books that we want,” said Chop Suey Books owner Ward Tefft. “We can plan events and do things that are not middle-of-the-road. We take stands on things for social justice, which we’re happy to have the opportunity to do, and not [try to] please everybody, which corporate does. We don’t try to offend, but we don’t shy away from offending someone who doesn’t support social justice issues.”

World Of Mirth owner Thea Brown also appreciates the opportunity to more-readily support her community. Last, year the store hosted a donation drive to gather toilet paper for Richmond Public Schools. During the government shutdown earlier this year, World of Mirth worked to help furloughed federal employees give gifts to their children with January and February birthdays.

Sometimes reasons for local businesses to be cheerful come from unlikely places. One of those came for World Of Mirth when international toy giant Toys R Us closed all of its U.S. stores — this provided a small, but welcome, bump in new customers.

“At first, we had an influx of customers that thought Toys R Us was the only toy store,” said Brown. “That was kind of interesting. [Customers also noticed] ‘Wow, you’re really nice here!’ Well, of course — we want you to come back.”

Books and music have been tricky businesses since the advent of the internet, with electronic versions of both becoming more accessible to consumers with each passing year. Even for customers who are loyal to physical media, corporate giants like Barnes and Noble can offer discounts that make it hard for local stores to compete. Nonetheless, Vinyl Conflict’s Egger sees the internet as good for business.

“We’re able to use the idea of social media to drive customers into our store,” said Egger. “When we get new product, people are able to see on the internet what we have before they come in the store. People are able to see before they come up from Fredericksburg or Virginia Beach. It’s really awesome that people want to take the time to do that.”

Indeed, business-based tourism helps support the city as a whole. And it definitely is a thing.

“We’ve had people here on vacation from New York [because] someone has told them ‘You need to go to Carytown. They have these shops,’” said Brown. “I think a thing that people tend to overlook is that local businesses make a city special. They make it really unique, and people will go to those cities because they’ve heard X amount of shops exist.”

“Essentially, you’re allowing people who are creative to bring a service to the city,” added Egger. “People really like supporting local business. I think the fact that the city isn’t massive keeps it really special. Everyone knows everyone by two degrees.”

This was shown in dramatic fashion in 2018, when national grocery store Publix took over the former Ukrops/Martins grocery store in Carytown’s Richmond Shopping Center. As part of the strip mall’s planned redevelopment, shopping center owner Regency Centers evicted over a dozen local businesses, forcing longtime tenants like the Aquarian Bookstore and Carytown Burgers and Fries to find new homes. The response from city residents was not very happy, by any means.

“We don’t like it when big companies uproot small businesses,” said Brown. Whether the disapproval will carry over to Publix once it opens in 2020 remains to be seen.

“I think it’s going to be a mixed bag,” Brown said. “There will be people who don’t care, there will be new students who won’t even know that was an issue, and then there will be some people who will choose to not shop there.”

Supporting local business doesn’t just help keep people’s dreams alive, it also keeps money in the community and gives our city a more distinct flavor. And nothing can replace the experience of walking into a unique store and finding things you can’t find anywhere else.

“If you don’t support and you just shop online, eventually the small stores will close,” Tefft said. “We can’t pitch battles against Goliath. So instead of fighting the David’s battle, we fight to make our business the best it can be, and live the best life we can live.”

“Keep Richmond Weird,” Brown concluded.

Doin’ It For Real: A Conversation With Segga Spiccoli

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*This article originally appeared in RVA Mag #36, on the streets now at all your favorite spots.

Segga Spiccoli is only in his mid-20s, but he’s been a visible and productive member of the Richmond hip-hop community for quite a while now. I got a chance to sit down with the East End rapper shortly after the release of his latest project, The Skinny V Tape, which dropped in the fourth quarter of 2018. We discussed The Life Company collective project — of which he is a core member — and his Green and Gold Label. We were then joined by fellow Life Company member and sought-after Richmond producer Bandolero, who produced almost all of the tracks on The Skinny V Tape. We started out by discussing that very release.

Tell me about The Skinny V Tape.

Segga Spiccoli: We’ve been working on it for a while now. Some songs we had in the cut — Bandolero produced like six, six out of the eight. But Skinny V Tape is basically everything that I’ve been thinking about, everything that I’ve been going through for the last year and a half. This feels like the most complete body of work that I’ve put out so far, and I was super proud of that, because I got a chance to say everything I wanted to say. Get it off my chest and have people have a better understanding of me as an artist, you know what I’m saying?

Who is Segga Spiccoli?

Segga Spiccoli: I’m just an East End nigga. You feel what I’m saying? Like, I’m humble and down to earth, I’m laid back, and I think that is reflected in the music, honestly. I feel I give a great description of where I came from in the city, and I give a great description of how I look at the city. People always say to me, like if they ain’t never been to Richmond before, listening to my music gives them a description of the city even if they never come to it. I think about it because when I used to listen to Snoop, or I used to listen to UGK, or 8 Ball and MJG… wherever they was at, whether it was Memphis — Orange Mound or wherever it was — or Port Arthur, Texas, or whatever. I felt like I was there and I knew what was going on. So I just wanted my music to be the same way for this city. For Richmond.

I remember first seeing a video of yours a few years ago and it had the label of the The Life Company at the beginning. Now I have noticed that it has shifted to the Green and Gold Label. Was there a change?

Segga Spiccoli: It’s still The Life Company, its TLC/Green and Gold. We started The Life Company just on some independent shit. The “LIFE” in The Life Company statement is Living Independent For Ever. That’s the umbrella of everything; Green and Gold is just the set. The Life Company is going to live forever though. Life. We might not be pushing it as much as we used to, but it’s still gonna reflect in Green and Gold. And we still gonna keep the clean visuals — shout out to Flexico.

How many are with Green and Gold?

Segga Spiccoli: It’s five of us. Me, Bandolero, Young Flexico, A6, and Wayne. It’s us, and we’ve been moving together for a minute, know what I’m saying? Bando came in like three years ago. Flexico, me, Wayne, and Nard, we have known each other for damn near ten years. This Green and Gold is serious, we’re worried about us. We doin’ us, we don’t have time for the bullshit. We’re trying to prosper.

[At this point, Bandolero joined in to explain how he joined the crew, and their vision for the future of Green And Gold.]

Bandolero:  I didn’t even really get involved until me and Segga had a conversation one night outside of Gallery 5. With young motherfuckers in general — like, we’re all around 24, 25, so we’re not teenagers but we young. But we didn’t see a lot of organized young guys making moves, know what I’m saying? And that was our thing: we got to pick up that slack for the next generation, to be something that people can look at and be like, “Oh, they actually doing it.” Originally when I came in, I asked to be in Life Company, but when we started pushing the music as a collective with all of us, we figured that we’d make Green and Gold the label. That’s our Death Row Records. Know what I’m saying? That’s our artistic outlet.

Now that we are in 2019 and with the buzz of Skinny V, What’s next for the Green and Gold Label?

Segga Spiccoli: My new project, On the Eastside: Side B. Flexico is working on his album, that shit’s done, it’s in the stash. He’s working on all his shit to make it perfect. Like I said, I’m working on On The Eastside: Side B, keep going with that series [which began with On The Eastside: Side A, released in 2017]. Bando and I have two songs in so far.

Bandolero: But I mean, for real — 2019 should be a really good year. We’re picking up a lot of pace on putting ourselves strategically. That’s the other thing is, like, you’ll see a lot of motherfuckers out here doing shows. That ain’t worth shit. And that’s not to take away from anybody’s performance or anything like that, but at the end of the day, we’re not gonna hop on a bill with 30 other motherfuckers just so you can hear five minutes of me and forget about it. You know what I’m saying? We want to get on the stage with people we fuck with, we’re gonna make moves with, promoters that we fuck with. We’re not going to do all this weird shit; nine times out of ten, we gonna be trying to do the shit ourselves.

Photos by Branden Wilson

Music Sponsored By Graduate Richmond

Welcome to the Dark and Beautiful World of Abigail Larson

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*This article originally appeared in RVA Mag #36, on the streets now at all your favorite spots.

The work of illustrator and artist Abigail Larson is what you’d get if you mixed Neil Gaiman and Mary Shelley together with a mystical, wonderful paint brush. From paintings to comic book covers — and even a tarot deck, currently in the works — Larson has covered a variety of media with her beautiful, darkly-romantic style.

She describes herself, and her work, in five very succinct words: “Strange, macabre, romantic, whimsical, imaginative.”

The arts have been in Larson’s blood since she was a small child. Originally, she dreamt big plans of becoming a world-renowned opera singer or a member of a circus, but crippling stage fright thwarted those ideas before they could come to fruition. We may never know what Larson’s version of The Greatest Showman would have been, but today, she could draw or paint a version of it for us. She’s had a great deal of success since turning to a less anxiety-inducing medium — fine art.

“I was always an artsy kid, but it wasn’t until high school that I realized illustration could be a career path for me,” said Larson. “I fell in love with the works of classical illustrators like Arthur Rackham and Harry Clarke, and I tailored my portfolio to book-illustration specifically. While getting my BFA at VCU, I built a website and started using social media to promote my work.”

It took quite a long time before Larson started getting work, but she remained busy with competitions and joining gallery shows whenever able. Two of her first showings appropriately took place at a few of Richmond’s artistic landmarks: The Poe Museum and Gallery 5.

It’s difficult to support yourself in the arts, and many artists fall victim to burnout and depression. Larson was no exception: looking back, she points to the strong storytelling aspect of illustration as one of the things that kept her motivated.

“That’s really the heart of illustration — telling a story through art,” said Larson. “I really love that creative process, but I especially love sharing my work online for others to see and enjoy.”

Larson’s style and aesthetic is very much reminiscent of romantic-Victorian (ultimately, gothic) styles. She has always been drawn to this approach, and its influence throughout her life has seeped deeply into her work. Even in her childhood, reading stories by authors like Mary Shelley, Edgar Allan Poe, and Charlotte Bronte, a macabre worldview has always attracted her, even if she isn’t sure why.

“I’ve never really been able to pinpoint what it is about the macabre and the gothic that I love so much,” said Larson. “I think the quiet, creeping, dark romanticism has always appealed to me. I felt very comfortable with that world, and eventually brought it into my artwork.”

Just one glance at Larson’s resume is sufficient to see that she stays busy. Her work is as extensive as it is diverse, and she keeps a full schedule of projects at all times.

Because of this, Larson admits she’s turned down projects due to time constraints. It’s pure professionalism that motivates her at times like this; for her, turning down a project is a way to avoid biting off more than she can chew, so to speak. That way, she can maintain focus on the project at hand.

However, there is one dream collaboration she’d probably make time for.

“I’d love to work with a major studio on a feature film,” said Larson. “I think it’d be fun to design characters for a huge project in film or animation.”

Ask any artist what their favorite project of all time is, and they will probably tell you “the one I just did.” Larson is no different.

“I love everything I’m working on while I’m working on it, and when the next project comes, I get wrapped up in that,” said Larson. “My favorite project to date is the Dark Wood tarot deck I’m working on with Sasha Graham, for Llewellyn Worldwide. It’s my biggest project to-date, but it’s definitely the most fun.”

Naturally, a unique tarot deck falls right into Larson’s wheelhouse. Another very apropos recent project of hers was to illustrate a story by pioneering-horror author H.P. Lovecraft. In 2016, Larson’s literary agent helped her pitch the project of a lifetime: creating an illustrated edition of Lovecraft’s The Cats of Ulthar. The resulting hardcover book was widely-acclaimed by fans of Larson and Lovecraft alike.

“It was a pretty fast-paced project, but the publisher was incredible to work with, and it was a lot of fun,” she said.

As mentioned, Larson tends to keep her hands in many different forms of media, one being a consistent array of comic book covers. She’s illustrated covers for series like Edward Scissorhands, Assassin’s Creed, and Penny Dreadful, and is currently working with DC and Vertigo on a project for the Sandman Universe. But she can’t tell us too much about it just yet: only that a few issues will be out “relatively soon.”

This, of course, begs a question: can fans expect to see an original comic series of her own in the future? Just maybe?

“I’m working on my own gothic retellings of classic fairytales, and I’m planning to release them in graphic novel form,” said Larson. “That’s a long way off, but it’s in the works.”

Larson originally came to Richmond for the acclaimed VCU art school; specifically, for their illustration program, which was recommended by several alumni she knew. Despite her confidence in her drawing abilities, she felt the university experience would help her evolve — not only in her skills, but in her sensibilities as an artist — in ways that working on her own couldn’t.

“I got the full university experience,” said Larson. “I took classes in science, history, math, and literature. In art school, I was able to learn not just how to draw, but to really understand art in all mediums. I studied photography, sculpture, painting, graphic design, etc. which have all helped give me a more solid foundation while developing my own style.”

She added that one of her first official gigs when she lived in Richmond was for the city’s  Zombie Walk, designing their posters. Since graduating with her Bachelor of Fine Arts at VCU, Larson has relocated to Italy, where she now lives with her husband; and even though she’s far from the city, she still designs work for Richmond’s beloved annual event.

Larson is open about the fact that she looks to many people for inspiration in her work. From various artists she follows on social media to the prince of horror himself, Mr. Vincent Price, she keeps her list of inspirations endless.

But just like anyone else, Larson occasionally hits a creative roadblock. Her biggest tip for other artists, though, is just to take a step back.

“I like to switch gears when I get stuck,” said Larson. “I listen to music, find a new show or movie to watch, take a break and go out, visit a museum, read a book — things like that. I hit an art block a couple times a year, and usually all I need to do to get back on track is step away from my work for a little while.”

When you’re a creative person of any kind — whether in visual art, writing, theater, photography, or any other artistic discipline — the hardest part of the game is always the same: finding a way to sustain yourself solely through your work. It’s an arduous process that takes a long time and a lot of work… and that’s if it ever happens for you at all.

For Larson, it was no different. Among the jobs she held while perfecting her art, she lists working retail in a lingerie store, and teaching children’s art classes (all while freelancing in her spare time, making sure the bills were paid). No matter how difficult the path she walked, though, Larson never gave up. She advises today’s struggling artists not to get discouraged if they don’t land the job they want right away.

“Learn, experiment, and your style will develop naturally,” said Larson. “Create artwork you enjoy, post your work regularly on social media, and jobs will start coming in.”

Even in her position today, as a successful artist self-supported with her work, Larson admits that there are still challenges.

“Keeping the momentum can be a battle sometimes,” she said. “For so many artists, jobs all pour in at once, or there’s nothing coming in at all. But having a personal project to keep you occupied during the slow periods will help keep you motivated.”

Despite moving on to live an ocean away, Larson’s time in the River City stays with her — and she maintains that it still influences her. Even if it’s just a small detail hidden in the background, the city is still present in her work.

“My time in Richmond and at VCU was a turning point in my life,” said Larson. “I was on my own, living in a new city, making new friends, building my portfolio, and taking my first steps into my career as an artist. Sometimes a certain headstone from Hollywood Cemetery or the landscape of Belle Isle might show up in one of my illustrations… and of course, I still carry all the skills I learned at VCU with me to this day.”

abigaillarson.com

Whitesburg, Kentucky

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*This article originally appeared in RVA Mag #36, on the streets now at all your favorite spots.

After being on the road for more than a week, Nickelus F and I left Chicago for the midwest leg of our tour and headed south to its final shows. After a short stop in Lexington, Kentucky for a pop-up show, the next day we found ourselves riding through the hills of eastern Kentucky, headed to a small city called Whitesburg: population around 2,000. Surprisingly, when the tour was first organized, this small Kentucky town was the first city to book Nick and I. Having never been to Kentucky for anything — let alone music, let alone hip-hop — I knew the tour stop was going to prove interesting.

Watching the country roll through hills and windy roads, I kept wondering why people would choose to live in such a rural area. The closer we came to Whitesburg, the more I realized that normal city attributes like neighborhoods, shopping centers, restaurants, and gas stations seemed to disappear and reappear like mirages — harbingers of civilizations.

This was offset by small houses dotting the countryside; in one of the valleys, we even found a Lee’s Famous Fried Chicken. I came to the conclusion that during our tour through the heart of America, I had finally reached the place that had triple bypass surgery. This place has been here long before me and Nick, and it will be here long after we depart. Maybe when everything goes up in smoke, Whitesburg will still be standing, among the rest of the small-popping cities of America.

With almost no cell service, I began to look up Whitesburg. I learned that, of its population of less than 2,000 people, only one percent of that population was black. Yet, apparently, it was one of the most progressive towns in this all-red State.

Smiles.

As if being in a city with virtually zero black people wouldn’t be interesting enough, our road manager decided to pull over at a local grocery store as we entered it. Wanting to see what type of time this city was on, Nick and I hopped out of the van, Nick pulling up in his dark sunglasses. None of us were prepared for what happened next.

Photo by Michael Millions

But first, let’s set the scene. Two black hip-hop artists from Richmond, Virginia, with long hair and nice clothes, just pulled into Whitesburg, Kentucky and walked into a very busy local grocery store with our black-haired, tattoo-sporting tour manager, Phil Shive.

Know that scene in the movie when the record scratches, stops, and everyone turns to look? That happened. So quiet did the grocery store get, we could actually hear the generic music playing in the background, mixed with the sound of the sliding doors opening and closing — a weird silence for that many people at midday.

Following Phil to the beer aisle, we noticed customers had stopped their transactions to look in our direction. In the beer aisle, one employee stopped mid-motion as he placed a box on a shelf; everyone in the store was still frozen in place. As we made our way to the registers, all the eyes still looked back at us. I could see their faces from where we were standing. The feeling was so crazy that I actually burst out laughing, and bent over to hide my reaction. I heard Nick mumble, “Shit’s crazy around here, yo.”

Our check-out clerk tried to act as normal as possible, but it was clear she had never seen black people in her life before. I didn’t sense danger, and these people were not racist — they’d just never seen so much color in their small town. We might have been just as rare as the Fugate Family of Kentucky, who had indigo blue skin due to genetics. This was probably one of the most awkward five to seven minutes of my life — like the Fugates, I felt like I had blue skin (and horns coming out of my head).

Walking back to the van, I think we almost caused a couple of parking lot accidents due to people rubbernecking our accidental trip to this store. Safely back in the van, we cracked up about the whole experience, but this made us even more excited to see what the show would be like.

Photo by Landon Shroder

Ten minutes later, we pulled up and parked on a block that happened to be the city’s downtown, maybe one or two city blocks long by Richmond standards. Phil blurted out, “Welcome to Downtown Whitesburg! The city that has earned its name today!”

Our host, Tom Sexton — co-host of the Appalachian’s best-rated show, The Trillbilly Worker’s Party podcast — had a real fly spot: walls full of classic hip-hop posters, interesting books on his coffee table, movies. I noticed he had a big poster of Dr. Cornel West, one of America’s most prestigious black academics, on the wall leading to the bedrooms. In this moment, I instantly understood what they meant when they said Whitesburg was progressive. Maybe, I thought, this city would be behind the rest of us. But, nope, the rumors were spot on. For me, it was like visiting one of America’s lost cities. One that had never lost track of the world.

I rolled a joint, and they walked us over to the building beside theirs where we would be staying. A couple doors down from our loft was the show venue, Summit On Main. We actually stopped there (and took five fireball shots) when we first pulled up to scope the venue.

Talking with Tom, it was apparent that he was a well-respected person in the community, and he was excited for us to perform. This was more than just a random show for him. We heard there was a record store at the end of the block, and I thought it was strange that a town this size even had a record store. We finished our joint and walked over there. On the way, we saw big posters for our show in all the store fronts. “Yo, tonight’s gonna be fire yo, watch,” said Nick, nodding and smiling.

We walked into the record store, Roundabout Music Company. One of the owners, Ben Spangler, was playing some old Wu-Tang records, along with some other deep-underground hip-hop records. Lacy Hale, the other owner, is a painter, and one side of the store was filled with bins of art supplies and paintings. Nick broke the ice by asking about some records. He ended up buying a few albums.

We observed looks of slight confusion on both of their faces before we told them we were in town for the show at Summit. Then it clicked; we were the artists on the bill, and we were headlining this diverse bill in their city.

After leaving the store, Nick and I took some random pictures and kicked it until show time.

Photo by Landon Shroder

Naps are essential on tour, and sometimes they slow you down. We got to the venue a bit late and started setting up our merch tables. A short time later, we started meeting a bunch of locals attending the show. There were only two other black people there — a grand total of four, including Nick and myself. In Whitesville, we shared the stage with Lee Bains III & the Glory Fires and a few others.

When it was time for me to go on, the whole crowd, previously spread out around the venue, pack into the front for our sets. I still couldn’t understand what connected Whitesburg to hip-hop, but it was clear, at least in that moment, that the music was bringing their town together. Of course, playing locations like Brooklyn, Philly, or Boston are super cool, but the most amazing part of tour is to have such a rare cultural experience in a new city.

Sometimes it’s not about about the big cities with lights, but the small ones in the shadows of the country; these rare, remote places that give you a glimpse of a better America — not the one you expect when you recall the history. I wonder how many other hidden places around the country sit under the radar like this. And, hopefully, to more artists: consider Whitesburg the next time you sit down to plan a tour.

Top photo by Michael Millions

Music Sponsored By Graduate Richmond

Indie Film Last Call Finds the ‘Twilight Zone’ In the Richmond Bar Scene

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*This article originally appeared in RVA Mag #36, on the streets now at all your favorite spots.

With a mashup of local idols as its actors and musicians, Richmond-produced indie film Last Call is a River City dream. Spearheaded by Richmond-based production team Aisthesis Productions, the film tells the story of a bartender who endures a tragic quest one night without ever leaving the bar — also named Last Call. The feature-length film was shot over the course of nine months, and its “Twilight Zone-Esque” mood depicts, according to director Tim Moehring, “a relatable theme of regret and what we can do to change our lives.”

Not only was Last Call filmed in Richmond, every aspect of its soundtrack has Richmond connections as well. The soundtrack was assembled by local musician Coldon Martin (Positive No), and features other Richmond acts Mekong Xpress, Sports Bar, and Tim Barry. Local thrash heroes Municipal Waste even grace the film with a live performance.

As a local crew with Richmond roots, it was important to Aisthesis to produce a locally-oriented film. To that end, Last Call’s action was filmed inside a popular Richmond hotspot, The Answer Brewpub. Situated on Broad Street in Richmond’s West End, the bar is renowned by locals and national beer enthusiasts alike. The reason for choosing it for the film was simple. “We wanted the bar to be believable, a bar everyone would go to,” said producer Monica Moehring.

The Moehrings were both born and raised in Richmond, and continue to base their work here. “I’m lucky that my partner in life is also my partner in art,” said Tim Moehring. “Whether we’re writing together or discussing production details, we share an artist’s vision and the insane energy it takes to actually do it. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Together, Tim and Monica Moehring lead Aisthesis Productions. However, the company is firmly a group effort; throughout the process of filming, the couple strove to account for each worker’s viewpoint on the results. Understanding that filmmakers tend to butt heads within the industry, the Moehrings want to be sure they do their work surrounded by those they get along with.

For that reason, it’s no surprise that the Aisthesis team consists of the couple’s friends — an extra-localized situation that helps create a friendly and inclusive atmosphere within the production team.

When putting Last Call together, the creators weren’t interested in playing it safe. “For all of the production design and detail we wanted the audience to ‘feel’ things with us, from arousal to nausea,” said Monica Moehring. “The music, the lights, the acting, and everything had to feed into that.”

For Tim Moehring, pacing was of particular importance. Throughout, he strove to make sure that the story unfolded in a manner that would create the mood and tempo he wanted the film to have. For Monica Moehring, this sometimes meant obeying the classic literary advice from William Faulkner: kill your darlings. “The playwright in me is long-winded,” she said. “I think there was more heartbreak in the writer’s room than the editing room.”

To cast the film, the Moehrings turned to local actors that have been working with Aisthesis for years. Indeed, the film was written for the actors who were eventually cast. “Lines are crafted for the specific talent we’ve chosen,” said Monica Moehring. Lee Reynolds plays the bartender in Last Call, a complex character who devolves on screen as the story unravels. According to Tim Moehring, Reynolds “gave us 110%. He truly gave his blood, sweat, and tears bringing this character to life.”

In its Twilight Zone state-of-mind, Last Call largely derives its mood from the 1950’s TV show, suspended somewhere between reality and fantasy. The classic series is best known for its unforgettable shocking moments, but beneath the obvious elements of weird fantasy and horror lies an unexpected, but important, moral vision; one that’s given weight by the series’ particular approach to cinematography. The Moehrings worked to achieve a similar cinematic effect through close collaboration with director of photography Doug Bischoff, who Tim Moehring calls “a master of his craft.” Explaining the atmosphere they sought, Tim Moehring said, “We wanted to transport the audience into another world with this movie — the world of Jason, the bartender who has always been the life of the party.”

Even low-budget independent films take tons of effort and funding to create, and Last Call is no exception. “A film doesn’t just fall into your lap,” said Tim Moehring. “There are a lot of moving pieces and preparation is the key. Luckily we had people like Will Towles and Saskia Price making sure all the moving pieces kept moving! We didn’t settle on any details, and that didn’t come easy. It meant rehearsals, and rewrites, and hours of production meetings.”

“When you’re watching a movie, you’re seeing the puzzle completed,” said Monica Moehring. “You’re not seeing the ten million pieces that had to be put together.”

As yet, Last Call has no set release date; however, its trailer is viewable on YouTube. It’s sure to get local film, music, and craft beer fans chomping at the bit.

Photos by Glenn Cocoa