
September 2005 Feature
Monthly Partnership with Block Magazine
Feature Article by Cameron Brindise
Photos by Shannon McDowell
With no great battle, we can find grace: bars of gold from lumps of led, kingdoms from dirt, lovers from libertines, ease from song. We are all the old man in the sea, searching, searching. How The Creaky Boards find you is simple: like a brief affair ends a sluggish heart, The Boards excite.
With sympathy for the devil in a chapel
in Michigan, a high school battle of the bands and the late Pierson
Spec and The True Blue Dudes, The Creaky Boards came together and
together they shine. Andrew Hoepfner (piano & vocals), Shane Tomas
(bass), Steve Seck (accordion) and Ended Mike (drums) deliver simple
pop tunes with their own slant, not tiring from too much, too much.
Dressed up in song you become Brian Wilson in a chateau in France,
an international cabaret singer with charm, Paul McCartney with
champagne spraying from the ceiling or an old man sitting with rum
at a southern saloon. The possibilities are endless. "People always
think we are ironic but I never try to be ironic, I try to be honest," belts Andrew.
"I'm living just for the moment," says Andrew,
the man behind the madness, the lab rat, the existentialist. And
he has to. After carrying and playing his keyboard constantly for
a year, "Broken hands," is what he called it. "I
ended up ruining my hands completely. It feels like burning and
numbness and stinging and pain, especially when I play the piano," Andrew continues. But the doctors and the sensations don't stop
him; his fingers still twinkle up and down the keys like fireflies.
No one has diagnosed him, no cure has been had. Searching, searching.
The so-called crazy artist theme died for The Creaky Boards with
Andrew's hands and the general motion of getting older. "I
was trying to be crazy a year ago but then I realized sometimes
you push yourself too far," Andrew reflects. Louie Armstrong
lived in a shack with no shoes hustling pennies at the docks but
nobody really does this anymore. Bands talk about heartache and
no cash in their pockets, then get off stage, kiss their girlfriends,
get a bag, and go drink their contradictions away at a bar. "It’s
almost a myth now," Andrew states.
Coming from the suburbs of Detroit, these men saw "rock stars,"
heroine chic, dirty, raunchy, leather wearing, crotch grabbing,
bloody "rock stars." But somehow The Creaky Boards avoided
the hound dogs and found collared shirts and indie rock. Detroit
summed up: "There are three clubs that indie bands play at,
a college section that white people cling to, a vast wasteland of
boarded up buildings and on the outskirts, suburbs,” Andrew
describes. There's also those old car companies, enough homeless
to starve the city and industrial muck. Thank goodness the boys
came here.
When establishing themselves in New York, The Creaky Boards tend
to favor The Sidewalk Cafe and Laila Lounge, quiet simple places
that provide the background for their honky-tonk pop music. With
an affection for thrift store record shopping and The Beach Boys,
The Boards "let their sound develop naturally," says Shane.
"I am just trying to express how I feel and make a beautiful
sound," Andrew follows. And what they write about is classic:
"Mostly love songs, songs about the joy of love and the pain
of love. Songs about different locations and the inspiration that
comes from those locations. Songs about sadness and loneliness,
sentimental songs."
The Creaky Boards debut record, "Where's the Sunshine,"
was released September 29, in conjunction with a show at Galapagos.
The record upholds their excitement with songs like, “I Love
My Girl Because She Loves The Birds" and "Do You Only
Love Me When I'm Down?" With The Boards attitude towards new
music, they hold a calm reserve about their record. "There's
a strange thing going on. People are really content with the music
that is out there and nobody is coming up with anything new right
now. They don't need anything more, they have all the greatest hits,"
Andrew declares. "Everything they say is gonna be the next
big thing ends up being boring," says Steve. "It's not
like Dylan or the so-called 'Dylan Boom'."
Give ‘em a listen. Stop all the searching, searching.
http://www.creakyboards.com.
Articles presented with permission from Block
Magazine and can be found in their monthly section of Uproar.
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