The songs of FELL MUSIC are themes of love lost and found, experience and worldly adventure from the high street to the low, and pure protest – against war, injustice, inequality. Fell Music is social commentary bled into song from the page of todays culture.
“Equal rights and justice for all, that’s my beat. War is a lie. Politics and politicians play a money game for a money grab. Television and Madison Ave. are vacum’s built to sustain passivity and subtract life and imagination from those they attract. The real world is somewhere else. I figured out early on that Vietnam was a calculated and cold-blooded propaganda campaign built on media cooperation and most of all built on fear…fear of the VC, fear of communism, fear of the unknown. So yea, my writing and songs have to do with a world of hearts and bones, love and loss, a through the looking glass view from the here to beyond, an awakening and an enlightenment.” DL
Here’s a track from ‘that side’ of Fell Music, titled WAR ETERNAL:
FELL MUSIC – WAR ETERNAL
DOUG LEWIS of FELL MUSIC
The four-album Fell Music project was recorded at Lotek Studios, Mar Vista, CA from 1994-2007. Produced by Arthur Barrow and Doug Lewis, the original seven albums were edited into a four-album project now hosted by Bandcamp, the independent music hosting site. The Fell Music project sets the tone for other music projects and collaborations by Doug Lewis, whose propensity for ‘bringing in the neighborhood’ is evident in Fell Music and remains a strong theme of his later work, including The Cheeters, Venice Arts Club Music, New White Trash and Gunter Vile.
M.D. BAER: Fell Music is both similar and unlike your other projects, similar in that it is a large body of work, and also how it brings in a group of contributors to the project, many of whom are not trained musicians, or musicians at all. Also, the sound is more produced, yet not as intimate as your later work. Can you trace the beginnings of Fell Music and it’s evolvement into your later projects?
LEWIS: My first experiences recording sound were with Jim Lewis – Col. Jim Lewis – my dad. Jim had a thing for audio, mostly tinkering, but did a lot of reel to reel recording of Jazz music, also Hawaiian, which is where I grew up (Hawaii) until I was ten. He also had a decent stereo system; late sixties and seventies stereo systems were rocking – big home speakers, a MacKintosh turntable and an analog receiver that weighed a ton. Back then, music sounded really good through his system, especially the Jazz and the Hawaiian.
M.D. BEAR: That’s a long way from rock and roll…
LEWIS: Rock & Roll was around my corner, that’s for sure. After Jim retired from the Army he moved us to San Francisco, Marin County exactly. Summer Of Love, June of 1967. His dream was to become a television news broadcaster, or work in radio, which he fulfilled. He had a real passion for speaking, using his voice. He had maybe the lowest voice ever, not gravely or smoke-filled, but low in a smooth and pleasantly resonant way…I wouldn’t know another voice to compare it to. Lee Marvin had a low voice which always caught me off guard, but nowhere near Jim’s tenor.
M.D. BAER: And the music?
LEWIS: Went from Jim’s turntable collection to San Fran street scene in full bloom. SF was the place, that’s for sure, and at the same time Marin was a hotbed of psychedelic activity. I was young, but still, the times were groovy. And so was the music. I became radicalized by the experience, caught a glimpse of the power of Love, and witnessed a revolution of sorts. I was enough in the cycle of its movement to have been influenced, probably profoundly. From there, it was a quick series of lefts and rights to GO! by John Clellon Holmes, then Kerouac,Ginsberg, Burroughs, Paul Bowles, the lot. I self-educated, developed an urge for self-expression, let the words of Whitman, Neruda,, Crane and Proust fall into place. Around that same time I had an older friend, kind of a big brother named Ralph Robinson. Ralph was in the Air Force, stationed at Travis, and he would take me out on backpacking trips through the Sierras. Shaw said that thirteen is the age when the ‘passions bloom’…or they don’t. He was referring to art, poetry, color, nature both natural and human. This aligns perfectly with my story. At that age I lived through a dynamic consequence of events, the San Fran revolution, Vietnam, available literature and a viseral experience with nature and the road. I began to seek adventure, saw myself as a poetic adventurer, read Ulysseus and felt the poetic urge to write, travel, explore.
M.D. BAER: You’ve certainly done all of that. When did you begin playing guitar?
LEWIS: I was singing in bands before I ever began playing the guitar. It wasn’t until my second move to L.A. that I picked up the guitar, when I was twenty-two or twenty-three. Until then, everything I had written was in verse and books of poetic rambling, a lot of which would eventually be transformed into lyrics for songs, first with a band called The Ducks, then into the Fell Music project. For me, playing the guitar was always only a means to an end. No one would ever credit me with being a great musician because I’m not. And I’m a lot worse for wear after losing the left ring finger on my left hand. But I did always seek out a decent player, someone to collaborate with. I went through a few transformations before settling into a way of working that produced Fell Music.
M.D. BAER: Which was?
LEWIS: BY the time I met Arthur Barrow and Lotek Studios, I was immersed in writing with the guitar. In fact, the first recordings I made with Arthur was with a bass player and a mandolin player, Jay Clark and Dorit Yaffe. These were songs the three of us had been playing around town in the coffeehouses, open mic’s, etc. That was in 1994. I lost my finger in March of 1995 and didn’t begin again with Arthur until 1996. We completed, Crudland, the first Fell Music album, in 1997.
M.D. BAER: How did you meet Arthur Barrow?
LEWIS: Through Jamie Cohen. Jamie was a well known music A&R guy who eventually dropped out to pursue his art. I met Jamie in the early 80’s, at a under-the-underground club on the Sunset Strip called AT SUNSET. I was one of the founders of At Sunset, and early on we ‘hired’ Jamie to DJ on occasion. But Jamie and I didn’t become close until we lived around the corner from each other in Venice, around 1992. From then on we became real close buddies and great friends. Jamie led me to Arthur and eventually Jamie and I recorded 66 songs together with Andy Kravitz on a project we named The Cheeters, from June, 2006 to the end of August, 2008. Jamie was also a big contributor to the Venice Arts Club Music project. Jamie passed away Sept. 11, 2008.
Basically, from Arthur Barrow, I learned how to make music, how to tune in to sound, how to listen and how to record. One benefit from losing the finger was that I didn’t have to beat myself up over not being able to play the guitar well. With Arthur, all he has to do is to hear it once and he’s got it. Arthur was Frank Zappa’s bass player for years, but he was also what Frank called his Clonemiester, in that, being a multi-instrumentalist, Arthur was able to orchestrate Frank’s music for the rest of the band. So our process was that I would come in with an idea, usually fairly flushed out in terms of song and chord structure. We recorded the idea, usually a guitar to a click track, then build the song from there. My original guitar track would occasionally make it to the finished song, though often we would replace it with a stronger Arthur Barrow version. Arthur is also an amazing guitar player and a whiz on the organ, so we would pile on his talents to build songs then bring other talent in to record drums, background vocals, mandolin, whatever. Robert Williams, ex-drummer for Capt. Beefheart, was a big contributor, he played drums and percussion on a lot of the songs.
M.D. BAER: Two strong themes emerge from Fell Music, that of love/romance/unrequited love and the themes of social-commentary, protest. It’s pretty much an even split, not only with the Fell Music stuff, but throughout your catalog including The Cheeters, Venice Arts Club Music and especially the New White Trash with author and activist, Michael C. Ruppert.
LEWIS: I mean, what else is there? Equal rights and justice for all, that’s my beat. War is a lie. Politics and politicians play a money game for a money grab. Television and Madison Ave. are vacum’s built to sustain passivity and subtract life and imagination from those they attract. The real world is somewhere else. I figured out early on that Vietnam was a calculated and cold-blooded propaganda campaign built on media cooperation and most of all built on fear…fear of the VC, fear of communism, fear of the unknown. So yea, my writing and songs have to do with a world of hearts and bones, love and loss, a through the looking glass view from the here to beyond, an awakening and an enlightenment.
M.D. BAER: Several of the Fell Music tracks, songs like WAR CREEP, WAR ETERNAL, MORE WAR NOW, SAY NO MORE, have choruses sung by children. You give credit as the ‘Venice Children’s Choir’. Why the kids?
LEWIS: Because they were available and because having the voices of children lends a certain irony to the subject of war and to the act of protest.
M.D. BAER: Your history of working with Kristen Vigard begins with Fell Music.
LEWIS: Yes. When Kristen and I met in the early 80’s, she was part of the NY art and music scene, as a performer and a catalyst. She came to L.A. and we met At Sunset. She sings a lot of backgrounds of the Fell Music project, and we collaborated on several songs including TIDE GOES IN, TIDE GOES OUT, also SUNCAT. There are others.
M.D. BAER: There are seven Fell Music albums and you’ve made only four available on the Bandcamp site?
LEWIS: Three of the four albums available on Bandcamp are compilations pulled from the complete body of work. The fourth – Fell Music FOUR – is the complete last album Arthur and I recorded together. FOUR is its own thing in that it chronicles my dance with cancer during that period of 2006-2007.
M.D. BAER: GROOVING WITH THE ARCHETYPES is an article written by Bud Theisen about you and the Venice Arts Club. This story, about music and healing, is pretty compelling. A reader would discover how this was not your first dance?
LEWIS: The reader would discover how in February of 2003 I was diagnosed with a malignant sarcoma and given six months to live, max. A similar recurrence and diagnosis came around again in mid-2006.
M.D. BAER: Similar but the same?
LEWIS: The same but different. There is that same echoey quality to the news itself. Like someone shouting out the diagnosis to your through a megaphone from very far away. But they are not shouting, the voice whispers but the echo builds and the force of the resonance, when the vibration hits, is dangerous and can kill. You have to remain standing, take the blowback with the stagger and stare down the light. I have a particular point of reference, and the imagery of that reference is of a horse. A tall horse, standing somewhere, maybe in a field or a battleground, I can’t tell, and where doesn’t matter, nor does ‘why’. The horse towers above me and takes up the frame. And it’s always been my duty to get myself up and on the horse. ON Fell FOUR, the song XYZ is my dealings with it all though all the songs on FOUR are tied to the themes of recovery and alternative levels of healing.
M.D. BAER: Well, thanks for sharing.
LEWIS: Alright. Thank you.
Hammond Organ at Lotek Studios. Image/Patricia DeLaRosa
Fell Music Original Artwork. Image/Patricia DeLaRosa
Robert Williams at Lotek Studios
Doug Lewis at Lotek Studios. Image/Cara Tompkins
Lotek Studios is owned and operated by ex-Zappa bass player, ‘Clonemeister’, and music legend, Arthur Barrow, and is a mecca for L.A. recording artists seeking quality sound production engineered and produced in the lo-key, no rush, uber-eclectic environment of Barrow’s spaceship he calls Lotek Studios.
Lotek began life as a classic Los Angeles bungalow/cottage. Located south of downtown Los Angeles, the bungalow was trailered away to make room for the landing of the then new L.A. Coliseum. Barrow launched his studio in 1983. Eclectic is a fitting description for Lotek studios. Even the arrival is offbeat – via an unpaved Mar Vista/Venice back alley through a pleasantly overgrown compound and up a back porch to the studio then into the control room. Barrow will offer you coffee, ask you to smoke outside, fire up the master switch and get down to the business of making music.
Barrow’s skills as a multi-instrumentalist musician, engineer, programmer and producer are evident by a glance at his catalogue. Zappa, The Doors, Robby Kreiger, Berlin, Joe Cocker, Diana Ross, Nina Hagen, Janet Jackson, Oingo Boingo, Billy Idol, Giorgio Moroder. Some of his many film credits include work on Top Gun, Scarface, The Doors, Breakfast Club. Barrow also composes music for classic silent films, including: The Cameraman with Buster Keaton, The Torrent featuring Greta Garbo, and The Boob, starring Joan Crawford. His self-published albums feature rich, complex and melodic compositions with a sound perfectly tailored to the Now.
If you’re a musician, an invitation to one of Arthur’s jams can be hard to come by. His guest list is an elite mix, usually Tommy Mars on Hammond organ, Rhodes piano, Rogers synth and vocals. Then there’s either Vinnie Colaiuta, Tom Brechtlein or Andy Kravitz on drums. Brass includes Larry Klimas with Bruce and Walt Fowler. On guitar is Robby Krieger or Warren Cucurullo, while Barrow handles bass. The several incarnations born out of these collaborations include Banned From Utopia, The Mar Vista Philharmonic, Theoretical 5.
The music hardly rests in Kristen Vigard. She’s always bopping and singing, talking a profound stream, reciting and recalling fact and fiction in a dizzy blur, tapping a beat, restoring order or creating chaos, sometimes all at once and usually in double speed.
As a child performer, Kristen was on Broadway in the original production of ‘Annie’. In her teens and twenties, Kristen played Moran Richards on the popular daytime soap, The Guiding Light. Then there was a calling and a move to Paris to sing in clubs and busk the streets. New York was next, then Los Angeles to record her first album, backed by Jamie Cohen at Private Music.
Kristen first met Doug Lewis of Fell Music in 1982, at the L.A. happening, AT SUNSET. Located on the Sunset Strip at 8907 Sunset Blvd., Lewis was one of six core members At Sunset, an idea launched by media artist Jim Budman to, by word of mouth, “open the (back) door and see what happens”. What happened was that word spread, virally speaking, from the six members (Budman, Lewis, Mark Brooks, Dan Millington, Adam Linter and Dana McDonald) and out into an ever-expanding network. The result, in short time, was the evolution to a ‘multi-functional, omni-sexual, relatively civilized space where anything could, and usually did happen’.
AT SUNSET 1981-84
At Sunset occupied the former Sneaky Pete’s restaurant, a former hipster hangout on the Sunset Strip. The policy was backdoor only, down a long series of steps which adjoined and shared a common wall with the Whiskey A-Go-Go. Once at the door, if you were either on the guest list or were invited in, you paid a twenty dollar ‘donation’. Once in, there were no rules, so to speak, but especially in terms of the interior space – all was accessible.
Budman’s brother, Michael, owner of Roots sportswear, was living in Paris and had begun a monthly fashion/culture magazine called ‘Passion’, published in English for international distribution. After an ad was placed for At Sunset featuring only the logo (a John Van Hammersfeld litho) and address, word got out and the celebs arrived.
The surreal aspect of At Sunset was apparent inside through the actions of those guests who realized the loose aspect of the environment. You could walk into and through the kitchen, into the walk-in cold-box. Or you could walk behind the bar and serve beer, wine and sake to fellow patrons. A large adjacent room served as the dance floor/stage area, then up a set of steps to two more private rooms, where interviews would be filmed, lines could be drawn, lights could be dimmed…
Outside on the Sunset Strip an equally dynamic scene was in full swing – Punks, Mods, Rockers, Funksters and Ska’s mixed with Hollywood translife at the corner of Sunset and San Vicente. At Sunset added the gay and the straight, the young and the old, the Valley, Downtown, Malibu, Venice, and the celebs. On any given late night would be Tim Leary or Truman Capote or George Carlin behind the bar slinging drinks to a crowd rocking to a DJ spinning Tainted Love by Soft Cell, or The Untouchables in the next room spreading the live vibe.
In late 1984, exhausted by three years of nightlife, Budman, Lewis and the rest of the At Sunset crew closed the doors and the party was over.
A decade later, Jamie Cohen was riding his bike near his house on Electric Ave. in Venice when he spotted Doug Lewis walking his dog. Turns out they lived a block from each other. Jamie Cohen was a legendary A&R man, who had signed Kristen to her first recording contract. Cohen also played a key early role At Sunset, setting up and spinning records for the dance crowd, and bringing in the music industry alumni, including Clive Davis.
It was Cohen who introduced Lewis to Arthur Barrow, which in turn led to the production of Fell Music, featuring Lewis, Cohen, Kristen Vigard, Robert Williams, Barrow, and others. The seven albums that make up Fell Music were recorded at Lotek Studios from 1994-2006.
TIDE GOES IN, TIDE GOES OUT
Tide Goes In, Tide Goes Out is written by Doug Lewis and performed by Kristen Vigard. The spanish guitar was added by Jorge, a player Cohen and Lewis found at La Cabana, a popular Venice eatery. Other musical performers include Lewis on guitar, Arthur Barrow on bass, guitar and organ, Robert Williams on drums. Mastered by Bob Stone RIP. The song was originally released on Fell Music, Volume 6, titled ‘The New Dystopia’. It is currently available from the Fell Music Bandcamp site, on The Best of Fell Music, Volume 1.
The Serge @ Lotek Studios. Image/Cara Tompkins
Lotek Studios & Tommy Mars. Image/Cara Tompkins
Doug Lewis at the Lotek board. Image/Cara Tompkins
At Sunset, Details Magazine
Feb 28, 2012
ARTHUR BARROW is the ultimate hipster – smart, funny, honest, well-read and an all around civilized person and nice guy. Arthur’s musical talent is legendary, but the man is more than his musical accomplishments.
Through a mutual friend, Jamie Cohen, I was introduced to Arthur in September of 1994. I had been writing songs and playing music since the early 80’s, but had never made an album. We got together that year and spent a few days recording at his studio – LOTEK – in Mar Vista, CA. Those early recordings became the foundation for a series of releases I eventually put out under Fell Music.
Previous recording experiences of mine had ended badly. In one instance, my music partner, Bryan Englund, the son of Cloris Leachman, died of a drug overdose in a NYC YMCA just days before we were to begin recording at the studio of his brother, George. Other musically related opportunities and instances proved equally fruitless. Back then, and without any of the home studio gear available today, making an album began to seem like an impossible task, so I gave up on the dream, went back to fishing, made a few more turns around the globe, got married, had kids and went to work in the L.A. film biz. I continued writing, playing and occasionally performing in local L.A. coffehouses, though the idea of recording had lost it’s appeal.
After going over the material recorded with Arthur, I recognized an opportunity to not only to make a record, but to do it with someone who was a master at his craft and did his work without pretense, ego, or any of the usual suspects that can and do get in the way of the creative process. I contacted Arthur in March of ’95 and he agreed that we would begin going through the original material, fashioning those 30+ ideas into something that resembled a cohesive whole.
A week later, on the set of Michael Jackson’s SCREAM video, I chopped off a big chunk of my left ring finger, arguably the most important finger for a (right-handed) guitarist. So I figured that was it. No more music and song, no more guitars. I stored them in the garage, locked the door and walked away. It was Arthur Barrow and Jamie Cohen who brought me back to life, musically speaking.
I’m no stranger to pain; I’ve broken lots of bones, and over the past 8 years I’ve undergone 14 cancer-related operations (having been told twice in the past 8 years I had 6 months to live). But an amputated finger is different; grated off by the gnarly teeth of a skill saw, what was left of my mangled finger was a bloody mess, literally. A few months on the mend I came home from work and found my acoustic guitar on a stand by the side of my desk in the spare bedroom my wife Jane and I used as an office. Jamie had pulled it out of the garage, dusted it off, and tuned it up. The touch of the steel strings over the raw nerve of my amputation was bone-throbbingly painful. Seriously. Made me take up smoking. Cigarettes. Again.
Jamie encouraged me, then after a while insisted I get back in with Arthur. So I called and we did. Since then I’ve been blessed with enough luck to hang out and make music and good cheer with Arthur Barrow. Riding with Arthur on the musical side of life has been an experience and an education, a real journey into both the art of music-making and the heart of friendship.
His studio, Lotek, is like a spaceship in the form of an old house trailered away from the site where the L.A. Coliseum landed. Arthur is not just a bass player, not just Frank Zappa’s bass player or Clonemeister, he plays a mean guitar, his first love growing up in a musical family in San Antonio, Texas, with a father who played church organ on Sundays (one of Arthur’s many fine religions is to bike every morning from his house to his studio and for two hours sit at his fathers Hammond organ to play pieces by Bach, Chopin, and Stravinsky – his musical hero.
Years later, when I had learned plenty from Arthur at Lotek about recording and from my setup in my home studio, Arthur would invite me over to sit in and monitor the mix board during jams and rehearsals with his friends and band members. Guys like Tommy Mars, Vinnie Colaiuta, Larry Klimas, Robby Krieger, the Fowler brothers, Warren Cuccurullo, Tom Brechtlein, and always the spirit of Frank Zappa. Hearing these guys play live in a 20×20 foot room is a high experience, an awareness of a higher language.
Later, after both our families bought houses and settled two blocks from each other in the same Mar Vista, CA neighborhood, and when I had some rough goings dancing with cancer, Arthur would be there, always, with a ride to or from the hospital, soup from his wife, Randi Barrow, an offer to walk the dogs. Arthur and I made it through the Bush years with a shared suspicion and the feeling of a turning, and I made it through my knockout bouts with cancer by having Arthur in that circle of friends I would turn to time and time again for support and love. Big love for you, Arthur Barrow, and Happy Birthday!
Arthur, through the glass, playing bass. Image/Cara Tompkins
Lotek Studios Control Room. Image/Cara Tompkins
The Lounge at Lotek. Image/Cara Tompkins