The Jodie Manross Band gets ready to go boom
by Joe Tarr
When the Jodie Manross Band released its first album, Still, in 1999, the group's rise on the Knoxville music scene had seemed quite meteoric.
Although singer Jodie Manross and guitarist Laith Keilany had been playing together for a while, they weren't really a band per se. Adding Nathan Barrett on percussion and Andre Hayter on bass, the group formed while they were recording Still with the intention of giving the songs a bit more oomph. The chemistry within the group was undeniable—with Manross' booming voice and the group's energetic playing and eclectic instrumentation—and they quickly made a name for themselves.
For the past couple of years, however, there's been a certain nagging question that fans keep asking: When are you going to record again?
In truth, the group's follow-up has been 14 months in the making. Started in June 2001, the band expected to have it finished the following October. Well, they got the month right.
There was no one thing that stalled the project. Between touring and their day jobs, the group found recording more involved than they realized. They recorded the album themselves, with Hayter serving as producer and engineer and his home as recording studio, so there was a bit of a learning curve. "The poor guy couldn't sit down in his house," Keilany says. "We had wires and equipment all over the place."
Once they started putting the songs on tape, they found themselves re-writing and making changes. The vocal cuts proved particularly troublesome. "I have the equivalent of stage fright in the studio," Manross admits.
Part of the problem is she's a particularly harsh judge of her own performance. But it's also the sterility of the setting—she prefers singing live when she can feed off the energy of the audience. Also, there's the frightening prospect of making a permanent record of her voice.
Sitting in a house that Keilany, Barrett, and Hayter have just moved into, the group teases Manross about her fussy perfectionist tendencies, but they also jump to her defense.
"When you're playing live and you make a mistake, it goes away. But when you're recording, they're always there," Hayter says.
The resulting record—Going Somewhere Soon—is well worth the wait. "It's finally representative of the sounds we hear when we play," Barrett says.
The production is sharp and crisp. The band is tight and deftly handles the spectrum of styles. There's a heavy world music influence, accented with djembe and oud. At times, they'll hit a groove and ride it, the way a jam band would. Sometimes, the songs stick to a simpler folk or rock song structure.
Manross' agonizing has also paid off. As usual her vocals are the center of the music. Her singing shows varying shades of emotion, including mournfulness, desparation and jubliance. The a cappella Gospel tune "Ain't That Good News" is followed by the brooding blues number "Given" (which includes some fantastic guitar work by Keilany).
"My voice has changed some. It's lower, more bluesy. I experiment more," she says. "The more smoky bars I play in, the more bluesy I get."
The 15 tracks clock in at more than an hour. Hardcore fans will recognize most of the songs, since they've been part of the group's live repertoire for a while. "It's long, we know. One reason is that it's been so long since our last one and people keep asking when's the next one coming out."
The band hopes the CD will better showcase what they sound like. The group often gets the sexistly pigeonholed as female folk, especially by potential booking agents.
"The singer-songwriter folk label is a complement to me, but it is the kiss of death for a venue. Then I call and they hear my talking voice and are like, 'Oh, are you like Jewel?'" says Manross, referring to her deceptively diminutive speaking voice. "There's three guys in the band. I'm the only girl. I'm influenced by men. I never expected to get treated like this."
The band is thinking about getting a manager to help do the tedious business stuff that they find so draining. And they'd like to eventually be able to give up their day jobs and focus on music. But, they don't necessarily aim for major label success—like many bands, they're suspicious of the majors.
When friend John Mayer told them last year he had been signed to a major label, Manross' first reaction was sympathy. "The first thing I wanted to say was, 'Are you OK with that? I'm so sorry.'" Mayer has done quite well since then, but the fear is real.
"We've seen so many bands go that route and get destroyed," Hayter says.
With the album finally finished, for now the band just wants to concentrate on writing new songs.
"We've put everything creative on the back burner for this album and playing shows," Barrett says. "We're about to explode, mostly out of necessity."
October 10, 2002 * Vol. 12, No. 41
© 2002 Metro Pulse
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