Touch me I'm late.

Mudhoney @ Emo's. © Ryan Schierling

I never really had the opportunity to shoot Mudhoney when we lived in Seattle. I was ten years late on the grunge-fest, O.G. Charles Peterson-era, grainy, gritty Sub Pop love-in that spawned so many amazing photographs. I was shooting burgeoning indie-rock and figuratively, I figured I'd rather just let old dogs lie. Anyway, Charles already did those photos far more beautifully than anyone else could, fifty times over.

But it was always buried in the back of my brain.

My first experience with Mudhoney was in 1990 as a teen in Emporia, Kansas. My friend Gary had the self-titled Mudhoney cassette, and "Flat Out Fucked" ruptured the speakers in his beat-to-shit black Subaru on our way to school in the mornings. More than 20 years later, he'd never seen them either.

Last year, Gary was willing to fly all of us from Austin to Seattle to see Mudhoney play at The Crocodile, but it just didn't work out. So when I saw tour dates for late 2011 in Austin, I let him know, and I bought tickets.

The prominent "No Professional Photography without a Photo Pass" signs and big bouncers had me a little flummoxed at first (because I didn't even think to arrange for a photo pass), but a few beers and the realization that no one makes a professional living at live music photography anymore bolstered my spirits. I mean, I did this for a long, long time in Seattle, and if you want to throw me out for pointing a big camera at Mudhoney, then go right ahead – the Tacos El Rey truck is out there, so it's like tossing Brer Rabbit into the briar patch.

Mark Arm and Mudhoney put on an amazing show, and all I can say is... better late than never. 

JV.

Take a deep breath, close your eyes. © Ryan Schierling

Turn around, relax. © Ryan Schierling

John Vanderslice.

JV @ Mohawk - Austin, Texas. © Ryan Schierling

Nobody move, or the mandolin gets it.

Mick Chegwidden, the most talented stringed-instrument player I've ever known. © Ryan Schierling

In hindsight, suede loafers in the pit was a bad idea.

Kataklysm @ Emo's. © Ryan Schierling

In my defense, however, I was there to shoot a local rockabilly-roots-punk band on the indoor stage. Afterward, J and I curiously wandered over to the much louder outdoor stage, where Canadian death metal band Kataklysm and German thrash metal band Kreator were rupturing eardrums.

I spent the rest of the evening in the mosh pit, finding life, trying to stay alive.

Kane Hodder is Fucking Dead*

Kane Hodder @ Hell's Kitchen, Tacoma, WA. © Ryan Schierling

*from Kane Hodder

The first time I saw the band Kane Hodder was in 2004 at Graceland (now El Corazon) in Seattle. I was on assignment for The Stranger, and it was a weird, Wednesday night early show. The venue was empty. I'd never heard any of their music, and had no idea what to expect, but at least I had an uninterrupted run of the entire front of the stage to shoot from.

When lead singer Andrew Moore launched into "Aboard The Leper Colony" with the scraping staccato "I'm gonna give it to ya, I'm gonna give it to ya, I'm gonna give it to ya bang bang bang bang..." I lowered my camera and stood there front and centerstage, dumbfounded. Why hadn't I heard of these guys before? The next 30 minutes were – sonically – a three-way fistfight between a pretentious boys' school choir soprano channeling Queen, a melodic pop-punk boy band built for straight-up hit-radio and a baker's dozen metal guitarists (+1 furious pigeon-toed post-hardcore vocalist spewing napalm) driving a burning steamroller over everything you hold dear.

(Take a deep breath).

Visually, Kane Hodder were equally stunning.

That night, Moore, and everyone else in the band, played like the room was packed, lubricated and writhing. At subsequent shows, when the house really was jammed to the rafters with spastic, sweating, gyrating fans, they'd give that much more. It was utterly exhausting watching them, but always a pleasure to shoot over the years.

Sadly, after seven years together, Kane Hodder is calling it a day. Moore, Eric Christianson, Charley Potter, Jerome Sauer and Aaron Yost (along with KH1.0 members Jeremy White and Nick Cates) will play a final performance at El Corazon this Saturday night. Joining them are friends Schoolyard Heroes, who are also playing their last show. These Arms Are Snakes and Sirens Sister round out the bill.

If you're in Seattle, and can still get tickets, I can't recommend this show enough.

Kane Hodder. (L-R) Jerome Sauer, Charley Potter, Andrew Moore, Aaron Yost, Eric Christianson. © Ryan Schierling

It's enough to make a man blush (or, the power of positive press).

Corey Passons and Aaron Starkey of Spanish For 100. Wichita, KS. © Ryan Schierling

"Local band Spanish for 100 is celebrating the release of their third record, Jezebel, tonight at the High Dive. Don't be fooled by the Merle Haggard, Fugazi and Uriah Heap references peppering their MySpace page; this is celestial-minded, agit-pop with an Americana undercurrent...not that this is a bad thing (though if anyone could sound like Fugazi, Uriah Heap and Haggard all at the same time, I'd be hella impressed). Reliably rambunctious classic rockers Shim are also on the bill, and cover charge will set you back a mere $7.

Strangely enough, the primary reason this show is on my radar is because of my current obsession with photographer Ryan Schierling's visual documentation of the band's 2007 and 2008 summer tours. Go Away, Come Home is quite possibly the most uniquely moving collection of photographs I've ever seen of a band on the road. Schierling's eye is extraordinary in its affection for seemingly mundane details (how he makes a pickle on a truck stop diner plate utterly compelling is far beyond the grasp of my corpus callosum). The images, like the one above of Spanish For 100 guitarist Aaron Starkey and vocalist Corey Passons sitting outside a Wichita, Kansas laundry mat, are terribly romantic without feeling contrived. Sadly, Schierling is leaving Seattle for the sunnier pastures of Austin, Texas, but he's making Spanish For 100's record release his final Seattle rock show before he ditches us. Come down and tell him how awesome he is – or at least pick up your own copy of Go Away over here."

– by Hannah Levin, from Seattle Weekly, October 23, 2009

Go away, come home.

Spanish For 100 @ Nectar, 9.03.09. Seattle, WA © Ryan Schierling

I stopped shooting live music in Seattle, for all intents and purposes, in 2005.

There was no money in it. My lungs had suffered innumerable cigarettes, my liver endured endless drink tickets, my tender tympanic membranes had been terminally torched by tinnitus. I loved the music, but showing up hours before a set and battling crowds was becoming more and more exhausting. I found myself having to justify access to bands, or labels, or explaining myself to door security when I showed up with a fat black bag of camera gear, even though I had photo passes.

And so, after five years – as much as I loved and had ties to burgeoning Seattle indie rock – I took one giant step away from the scene.

In 2007, I was contacted by local band Spanish For 100 to shoot some promotional photos. I'd never met them, didn't know what they sounded like, and had no idea what they were looking to get out of their promo shots. We met, talked about it, and a few months later, scheduled two shoots.

After the photos, as we were leaving, Aaron Starkey laughed and said "Hey, you know what, you should come on tour with us and shoot photos." I couldn't tell if he was joking, and everyone else had chuckled, so I didn't think too much more about it.

A few weeks later, I gave Aaron a call. I mentioned that I had some down time right around their summer tour schedule, and if they wanted me to come along and document the whole "tour experience," I could.

Three years and two summer tours later, I've spent more than six weeks on the road with Spanish For 100. They have become my favorite local band, and they've also become great friends.

They kicked off their west coast tour with an incredible show at Nectar in Seattle last night, and pointed their tour bus Horchata south today. Unfortunately, I'm not able to be with them this time out.

I will miss shooting on the road, the strangers met at hole-in-the-wall bars on nights off, and the odd things that tend to happen when you're out of your hometown comfort zone (and by the end of tour, most likely half out of your mind). I will miss the familiar truck stops and unfamiliar diners, and I'll even miss the red fold-out bench seat in Horchata that became my home away from home.

I will miss Aaron, Corey, Ross and Chris, and I will miss hearing one of my favorite bands – period – play live nearly every night of the week.

If you're able to make it to a show, do it. You might just find you've got a new favorite band.

9.03.09 ~ Nectar - Seattle, WA

9.04.09 ~ The Woods - Portland, OR

9.09.09 ~ Hotel Utah - San Franciso, CA

9.10.09 ~ Audie's Olympic - Fresno, CA

9.11.09 ~ Mr. T's Bowl - Los Angeles, CA

9.12.09 ~ Divebar - Las Vegas, NV

9.13.09 ~ Mojo Underground - Saint George, UT

9.14.09 ~ 5 Monkeys - Salt Lake City, UT

9.15.09 ~ Visual Arts Collective - Garden City, ID (Boise)

A deeper shade of Blue.

From Seattle Weekly, art © 2009 Adam Garcia

I got a nice email from Philadelphia artist Adam Garcia last week, after he was commissioned to do an illustration of local hip hop group Blue Scholars. He chose to base the image on a photograph I took of Geo and Sabzi in 2005, and wanted to make sure I knew about it, and if I'd like to be credited for the source material. I was a little shocked, and completely delighted, because I've had images appropriated and altered in the past with no contact or permissions given. Needless to say, I gave him two big thumbs up, and the art turned out fantastic.

Blue Scholars, 2005. © Ryan Schierling

I never really did like the word capture.

Photograph © William Anthony. Tearsheet via Seattle Metropolitan.

I was cleaning out my desk and found this section cut from the contributor pages of Seattle Metropolitan magazine last year. The gaff tape mustache shot was when I was assisting WmA on an Alaska Airlines shoot, the text (at least the portion in quotations) comes from reading too many serious contributor columns with too many serious photographers who are far too serious about pushing the button.

The 2008 article chronicled the history of Sub Pop Records. The below photographs of Jimmy and Ben were unpublished outtakes from the aforementioned 2005 SubPop shoot when they picked up their gold album for Give Up.

Jimmy Tamborello and Ben Gibbard - April 2005. © Ryan Schierling

Gibbard, protective. 2005 © Ryan Schierling

Bend Question #8.

Fugazi @ The Outhouse - Lawrence, Kansas. 1989. © Ryan Schierling

Andy Jenkins over at bendpress.com was kind enough to include me in his latest volley of "Bend Questions," along with Mark Whiteley, Ed Templeton, Mike Carroll, Daniel Field and Chris Sprouls. The question this time around was "How important is music to you and how does it inform your life?"

Slipknot.

Outtakes - Slipknot DJ Sid Wilson; Slipknot crowd at White River Amphitheater. ©Ryan Schierling

I spent the day at the Mayhem Festival at White River Amphitheater, getting some specific photographs for Mackie Designs, Inc., an audio gear manufacturer based in Woodinville, Washington. Sid Wilson, turntablist for Grammy award winner Slipknot, uses Mackie mixers and loudspeakers, and has a tricked-out RV that functions as a rolling platform for getting his own music - as DJ Starscream - to the masses. The back panel drops, the Mackie gear comes out and Sid drops the needle. It's an instant party.

Many thanks to Shaunna at Mackie, and Sid Wilson and everyone from the Slipknot crew that made the long, hot day a pleasure.

Subterranean Pop.

Sub Pop cofounder Jonathan Poneman, for Seattle Metropolitan magazine, July 2008. 

©Ryan Schierling

I remember listening to Mudhoney's self-titled album (on cassette), in Emporia, Kansas, in late '89, thanks to my friend Gary and his definitively progressive taste in music. Everyone else was listening to Guns N' Roses, Tone Loc and whatever Whitesnake / White Lion / Great White song was popular at the moment. Little did I know that nearly 20 years later, I'd be living in Seattle, Sub Pop would be going stronger than ever, and Mudhoney would still be touring.

Go figure.

MTB.

©Ryan Schierling

My shot of Minus The Bear finally ran in URB magazine. What was that, three months ago?

*Update - And the invoice was finally paid, some nine months later!