Stateside & Live Nation Present
Shakey Graves Was Here
September 28, 2021
(Doors: 7:00 pm )
Ages 13 and Up
Advance Price: $30 + fees / Day of Show Price: $35 + fees
Please Note: There is a delivery delay in place through 09/25/2021. No tickets will be sent out prior to 09/25/2021.
This event is 13+ (12 & under admitted with parent/legal guardian)
The prehistory of Shakey Graves exists in two overstuffed folders. Inside them, artifacts document an immense era of anonymous DIY creativity, from 2007 through 2010 - the three years before Roll The Bones came out and changed his life. There are stencils, lyrics, drawings, prototypes for concert posters, and even a zine. The latter, which Graves - aka Alejandro Rose-Garcia - wrote and illustrated, tells the tale of a once-courageous, now retired mouse who must journey to the moon to save his sweetheart. At the time, he envisioned the photocopied storybook as a potential vessel for releasing his music. “There was a lot of conceptualizing going on - trying to figure out what I wanted stuff to look like, sound like, and be like,” Rose-Garcia recalls, shuffling through the physical files on his second-story deck in South Austin. “And, honestly, a lot of trying to keep myself from going crazy.” In this lode of unreleased ephemera, CD-Rs are the most bountiful element. There are dozens of burned discs with widely varying track lists, loosely resembling what would become the Austin native’s 2011 breakout debut Roll the Bones. For Rose-Garcia, who’s long loved the incongruous art form of sequencing strange mixtapes for friends, his own record was subject to change every time he burned a disc for somebody. Consistency didn’t matter, he asserts, because there was no demand or expectations. Thus Roll the Bones was by no means a Big Bang creation story, rather a years long process of metamorphosis where literally hundreds of tracks were winnowed down into ten. As the album took shape, he began manufacturing one-off editions of the CD, stapled to self-destruct in brown paper, with black and white photographs glued upon them, and an ink pen marking of the artist's enduring logo: a skull struck by an arrow. “I liked that if they were opened, you couldn’t close them again,” he smiles. “Sometimes I’d spray paint the CD so they looked good and people would stick them in their car stereo and it would fuse in and never come out. They’d tell me, ‘You’re lucky I like this record because it’s the last one I’ll ever be able to listen to in my car.’” In the shadows self-doubt that surrounds any artists first record, Rose-Garcia had a fantasy: he releases Roll the Bones, only ten people hear it, it’s rediscovered a decade later by Numero Group, hailed as before-its-time, and finds an audience as a lost treasure. He still plays that scenario through his mind like an alternative reality. Of course, that’s far from what actually materialized. Roll the Bones was released on the first day of 2011 without a lick of promotion advancing it. It was simply thrust into the world as a decapod of perplexingly memorable, narrative-wrapped songs with a mysterious cover and no information about the artist… only available on the relatively new platform of Bandcamp. That year, an editor at Bandcamp made it a featured album for a month and from there it stayed in the website’s top selling folk albums evermore. The record has since seen well over 100,000 units sold - even while being available for free download. In the “Supported By” section of the Roll the Bones Bandcamp page, you can endlessly click “more” and squares of avatars will keep showing up until you grow tired and stop.“If you discover something for yourself, it will always hold more water because it’s tied to memory and coincidence,” Rose-Garcia reasons as to why he never pushed Roll the Bones onto a wider marketplace. “It gives you a sense of ownership as a listener.” Now fans can obtain Roll the Bones as their own physical artifact. Through Dualtone Records, Shakey Graves will release a Ten Year Special Edition double LP with a black and gold foil re-arting of the taxidermied cow head cover. Separate iterations, hitting record collections on April 2, offer the 180g vinyl in a black and gold combination or two marbled “galaxy gold” discs. The lovingly assembled packaging includes handwritten deep explanations of every song, offset with original photography. Along with its deluxe vinyl emergence, Roll the Bones today becomes available through all digital service providers - Spotify, Apple Music, YouTube, et all. For the last decade, the songs have lived exclusively on Bandcamp. This full-spectrum digital release arrives concurrent with Shakey Graves Day, which was minted on February 9, 2012 by Austin Mayor Steve Adler. Year one, Rose-Garcia spent what he calls his “alter ego’s birthday,” as an excuse to go play laser tag. Ever since, he’s used it as an occasion to stage intimate pop-up shows and open up the attics of his discography - making all of his albums, plus hundreds of unheard songs temporarily available for free. “I’ve used Shakey Graves Day as a challenge to myself,” he assesses. “I make so many random songs throughout the year that I either forget about or I’m too nervous to put on an album and it becomes a clearinghouse for that. It surprises me when people tell me that something released that day is their favorite of my stuff. In a larger sense, it builds off what I initially did with Roll the Bones - which is give it away for free.” Accompanying Roll the Bones anniversary pressing are 15 additional tracks comprising an Odds + Ends LP, which stands as an essential document of Grave’s early era. Highlights include the mandolin imbued “Chinatown,” which sounds like it could be dubbed off a 1930’s silver screen soundtrack, and “Saving Face” - a seminal version of what would become Roll the Bones title cut. The crown jewel, however, may be a the first ever proper recording of the trifling love song “Late July,” a version that’s drastically different than the live rendition that’s racked 14 million views on YouTube. Prepping Roll the Bones thoughtful 2021 edition gave Rose-Garcia an opportunity to take a new look at the person. “I hear someone who felt really trapped,” he reveals. “In a lot of ways it was a breakup record. My first serious relationship had fallen apart and I was wanting to break up with my life - run away, be transient, and figure out who I was in the world. I can hear myself blaming the girl and trying to support myself, like maybe it’s okay to be dirty and crazy and have blinders on. Then, at the end, everything’s zooming back in and I’m saying ‘I guess I just got hurt and I’m in a bit of pain and, you know, it’s going to be okay.’” Claiming he’s “further confused” listeners with each release, Rose-Garcia believes this purge of early output will provide some needed framing for his discography. It’s his genesis story, before he had the studio time to make the shiny And the War Came or the full-band cohesion to make the painstakingly dense Can’t Wake Up. To him, it’s a scrappy effort, but the most intentional work he’s ever produced - and, a decade later, he wouldn’t change a thing. “It’s a record that sounds like my years of exploration and influence, funneled through my abilities at the time - and it all became something bigger,” he muses. “If you would’ve offered to me: ‘Let's do exactly what you want, right now” Roll the Bones wouldn’t have come out like this… and I’m happy that’s the case. Total control is an unhealthy myth, it leaves out the emotional side of how all the accidents come together. This record’s a period of time smashed into a single product and, in my own heart, it’s a moral compass: to always get back to feeling like this about the songs I make.”
With her spellbinding voice and time-bending sensibilities, Sierra Ferrell makes music that's as fantastically vagabond as the artist herself. Growing up in small-town West Virginia, the singer/songwriter/multi-instrumentalist left home in her early 20s to journey across the country with a troupe of nomadic musicians, playing everywhere from truck stops to alleyways to freight-train boxcars speeding down the railroad tracks. After years of living in her van and busking on the streets of New Orleans and Seattle, she moved to Nashville and soon landed a deal with Rounder Records on the strength of her magnetic live show. Now, on her highly anticipated label debut Long Time Coming, Ferrell shares a dozen songs beautifully unbound by genre or era, instantly transporting her audience to an infinitely more enchanted world.
Co-produced by Stu Hibberd and 10-time Grammy Award-winner Gary Paczosa (Alison Krauss, Dolly Parton, Gillian Welch), Long Time Coming embodies a delicate eclecticism fitting for a musician who utterly defies categorization. "I want my music to be like my mind is -- all over the place," says Ferrell, who recorded the album at Southern Ground and Minutia studios in Nashville. "I listen to everything from bluegrass to techno to goth metal, and it all inspires me in different ways that I try to incorporate into my songs and make people really feel something." In sculpting the album's chameleonic sound, Ferrell joined forces with a knockout lineup of guest musicians (including Jerry Douglas, Tim O'Brien, Chris Scruggs, Sarah Jarosz, Billy Strings, and Dennis Crouch), adding entirely new texture to each of her gracefully crafted and undeniably heartfelt songs.
Sprung from her self-described "country heart but a jazz mind," Long Time Coming opens on the unearthly reverie of "The Sea," a haunting and hypnotic tale of scorned love. Its bewitching arrangement is adorned with sublime details like Ferrell's tender toy-piano melodies and Scruggs's woozy steel-guitar work. In a striking sonic shift emblematic of the whole album, Ferrell then veers into the galloping beat and classic bluegrass storytelling of "Jeremiah," a heavy-hearted but sweetly hopeful romp featuring Jarosz on banjo and octave mandolin. Another impossibly charming bluegrass gem, "Bells of Every Chapel" sustains that wistful mood as Ferrell muses on the exquisite pain of "loving someone unconditionally with all your heart, but they don't receive your love the way you want them to." Graced with Strings's nimble acoustic-guitar work and the heavenly harmonies of O'Brien and Julie Lee, "Bells of Every Chapel" reaches its breathtaking crescendo as Ferrell belts out the song's closing lyrics, effectively twisting that heartache into something strangely glorious.
One of the most enthralling moments on Long Time Coming, "Far Away Across the Sea" finds Ferrell serenading her tragically distant beloved, channeling the track's ardent longing in wildly cascading guitar lines and the fiery trumpet work of Nadje Noordhuis. "Since I'm singing about the ocean in that song, I wanted it to have a calypso vibe -- but then there's also a bit of a tango feel to it, and some Spanish influence too," Ferrell points out. Noting that she first became fascinated with island music while touring with blues singer/songwriter C.W. Stoneking, Ferrell also infuses an element of calypso into "Why'd Ya Do It" -- a beguiling and bittersweet lament whose lyrics perform a sort of poetic love spell ("My love for you's a deep blue ocean, baby/I just wanna swim inside").
In her elegant blurring of musical boundaries, Ferrell brought her vast imagination to the reworking of two signature fan favorites, including "In Dreams" -- a song previously glimpsed in a viral video that's now amassed nearly four million views on YouTube. A bold departure from the rugged simplicity of that rendition, the album version of "In Dreams" unfolds with an unbridled splendor that wholly intensifies the impact of Ferrell's outpouring. Meanwhile, in reimagining the self-reflective "Made Like That," Ferrell introduces unexpected flourishes like loping percussion and luminous piano tones, ultimately building an even more immersive atmosphere around the song's softly devastating confession. "When I wrote 'Made Like That,' I was thinking about where I am now compared to what my life was like in West Virginia," she says. "It was hell for me to be stuck in a small town, but I got out and finally realized what the world had to offer. Now I'm here, and I'm so much healthier and happier."
Despite its endless wandering into new sonic terrain, Long Time Coming is indelibly rooted in Ferrell's ravishing vocal presence, revealing her extraordinary ability to draw enormous feeling from just one single note. A lifelong singer, she got her start performing covers in a local bar at the young age of seven. "There was this little dead-end bar nearby that my mom and I would go hang out at during the day, and I'd get up and sing Shania Twain songs," she recalls. "There'd be hardly anyone in there, so I'd have free rein of the place." Later on, while living in a trailer park, Ferrell had a chance encounter that would soon turn out to be life-changing. "I met all these homeless kids who were traveling all over the place and playing amazing old songs, and I wanted to be a part of that," says Ferrell. "The music they were making was so honest, so pure. It seemed important to bring that kind of music back, and it's been with me ever since." Though her years of traveling proved immensely formative, Ferrell eventually settled in Nashville in her late 20s. Soon after her arrival, she began taking the stage at major festivals like The Avett Brothers at the Beach, AmericanaFest, and Out on The Weekend and touring with the likes of Parker Millsap and Charley Crockett, immediately captivating crowds with her joyful and spirited live set.
A consummate musician's musician, Ferrell found an easy camaraderie with the many luminaries who accompanied her on Long Time Coming. To that end, her most cherished moments in the album's production include the recording of the soul-stirring choir-like harmonies of "West Virginia Waltz," as well as Rory Hoffman's impromptu whistling on "Bells of Every Chapel." ("Rory's got one heck of a whistle on him," she marvels). At the same time, the making of Long Time Coming fully affirmed her affinity for lifers like Strings. "Billy's in it for the music, which is something we have in common," she says. "We're just gonna keep playing till we're not on this Earth anymore."
While the wayward sound of Long Time Coming is in many ways a perfect echo of Ferrell's free-spirited nature, there's also a much deeper intention at play: a desire to expand her listeners' capacity for wonder, so that they might uncover some enchantment in their own lives. "A lot of us are taught to wake up, go to work, make money, eat, sleep, rinse, repeat," says Ferrell. "It's so easy to get caught up in that nine-to-five routine, and end up numb and dulled-down to everything. I want my music to help people break away from that -- to get lost in their imagination, and start seeing how magical the world can be if you just pay attention."