Talk The Talk: Andrew Chalfen of The Trolleyvox
Andrew Chalfen (pictured at far right) was laying the groundwork for this city’s grand indie-rock kingdom when you were in short pants, bub, and he still kinda looks like he’s 17. Not bad, right? In the late ’80s and early ’90s, Chalfen was the brains behind the late, great Wishniaks ‚Äî one of the bands that the Khyber cut its teeth on back in the day, when Second Street wan’t even a gleam in South Jersey’s eye. (Full disclosure: Yours truly, Joey Sweeney, roadied for the Wishniaks back in the day, before convincing Chalfen to join me in my own musical endeavors through 1995.) In the meantime, Chalfen has played with loads of folks, but his standing “solo” project has been The Trolleyvox, in which singer Beth Filla has, for the last bunch of years, sang many of Chalfen’s brittle, sunbursty rock tunes. The new Trolleyvox album, The Trolleyvox Present The Karaoke Meltdowns, is just out, and the band plays a record release show tonight at the North Star Bar with BC Camplight and The Novenas.
After the jump, Andrew talks about indie Philly of yore, and The Magnificent Now. Plus, an mp3 from the new Trolleyvox record.
Andrew, what was better: Indie life in Philly circa 1988, when there was essentially nothing, or indie life in Philly circa now, where the city is essentially the young rocker’s oyster?
You answer your own question, there. Not to sound all boosterish, but it really is an amazing time right now in Philly for indiedom–the perfect storm of post-college youthquake influx, community involvement, relatively inexpensive housing/rents, geography, hype, connectivity, interested audience, lots of clubs to play at, decent studios to record at, you name it. With the internet and affordable quality consumer recording gear, it’s much more like the workers control the means of production, if you will. You don’t have to suck up to the Man as much.
1988 was a bit of a psychic and cultural trough for Philly in its post Move-bombing, crack-filled, brain-drained, provincial ostrich-view. A band could play at Dobb’s or Bacchanal. Really, that was it until the Khyber really got its indie rock on in ‘89-’90. For the few indie bands that were around (like my old band the Wishniaks), it was an uphill struggle against the inbred cabal of the Cabaret clubs and the WMMR/WYSP mindset that indie (then cringe-inducingly labeled”college rock”) was there to be ignored or at least ghetto-ized as much as possible. Still, it was cool to be part of a small group of bands who wanted to do something different than just follow the Hooters/Robert Hazard template. It’s possible that getting noticed back then was easier because there were just a whole lot less bands than there are now. Maybe. Tom Moon of the Inky would come down to Bacchanal with a photographer and two days later there’d be a photo of us and Sky Grits or Nixon’s Head or Baby Flamehad in the paper. But that kind of thing was more the exception than the rule. It’s fun to get nostalgic about the scene then, but it’s a bit like getting nostalgic about that crappy West Philly apartment you had so much fun in when you were 22. I will say that audiences danced all the time at shows. That seemed to have mysteriously stopped around 1988. Someone should do some research on that.
Word. I ask all this, of course, because as you mention, you were in The Wishniaks, who I personally trace back as being one of the first Philly Amerindie (god, that word, that word) bands, and because a lot of the things that rang true about that band are also what rings true in The Trolleyvox. Draw the arc for the people. Tell ‘em what it’s all about.
Well, in the Venn diagram of my mind, there’s a flame of sound that I’m drawn to, moth-like, and it pretty much sounds like if there was one song that sounded like “She Said She Said”, “Eight Miles High”, “Unsatisfied”, “Pink Moon”, “Pink Frost”, “See Emily Play” and, well, I could go on. If one actually achieved that sound, one would simultaneously be burnt to a crisp and reach a nirvana-like state. For better or worse, the reality of creating such a state in a recording (never mind playing live) is probably remote at best. I do think each Trolleyvox release gets a bit closer and closer, though like the expanding universe, one never quite gets there, but the journey is probably just as interesting. And that’s about the intersection of longing, ambition, ability, who’s on your team, batting order, mystery, dumb luck, and, quite frankly, ill-advised stubborness–just refusing to stop this rock band nonsense.
Anyway, the Wishniaks were the first band I was in, and it was where I learned to play and write songs and lyrics and tried to live up to/mimic the image I had of my rock heroes like Townshend, Westerberg, Buck, Hitchcock, et al). Looking back on it is a bit like looking at a photo album of baby pictures, braces, zits, Halloween costumes, prom shots, etc with your friends laughing and pointing over your shoulder. For a few folks, allegedly, we actually caused them to pick up instruments and start bands, which is a frightening and humbling thought (I’m looking at you, Bret Tobias). The Trolleyvox is the beneficiary of all that trial and error in the Wishniaks, in youth, in romanticism of rock and, well, romance, really in all that life and playing experience. God, pull me up that rocking chair. The roots are similar, though in the Trolleyvox we like to mix it up with quieter, non-rock sounds, too, Yo La Tengo-style. Now there’s a good template for a maturing band. Mainly, the sound of the Trolleyvox is a lot closer to reproducing the sound of the songs in my head, which, when one boils it down, is my compulsion numero uno. That, and the sickening vertigo caused by imagining doing anything else with my life. Wow, I don’t think I answered your question very well.
That’s quite alright, it’s close enough for blog. It seems like the new album, The Trolleyvox Present The Karaoke Meltdowns, seems to be the pinnacle of everything you’re talking about here. How long was this one in the offing?
Thanks for that pinnacle. I’m still too close to it to tell. It was certainly the “difficult third record” to make. Took like 3-4 years, really. We recorded half of it with Adam Lasus up at Fireproof when it was still in Brooklyn, then ran out of money to finish, then various band members had too much going on to keep up with the band, so things kind of stalled. Then out of the blue my pal Jim moved back from California and started a label and basically rescued us and the record. Much snaps to him. So we finished it up at Miner Street with McTear and Morrissey, with Adam and I mixing the whole thing in LA. 3 different drummers, too. It was very crazy and seat-of-the-pants logistically. Came out
great, though. We also recorded and mixed an ep’s worth of material with Brian and Amy, which will come out this winter sometime as part of a gatefold double ep thing with a mellow acoustic ep/album which we’re currently recording with Chris Unrath. Kind of the floodgates bursting.
So who’s in the band now?
Beth Filla, of course, on lead vocal, Owen Lippincott Biddle on bass, and Greg Millward on drum kit, me on guitar. Greg’s wife is expecting to give birth any second now, so Ken Buono, our loyal long-time drummer-when-he-can, might jump in at the last minute! Owen’s been playing with the Roots studio band, so he’s up on all the latest jive idioms. Beth is opening a yoga studio in Collingswood. She’s going to bust some yoga moves from stage tonight.
For that last reason and more, tonight’s bill is pretty magical in terms of the talent that’s going to be amassed on that stage. Any surprises in store?
Yes, it’s really a pop band trifecta with the Novenas and BC Camplight. It’ll be the first time that all four drummers who have played on Trolleyvox songs will be in one room together (Pat Berkerey drums for the Novenas, Bret Tobias for BC Camplight). I’m hoping for some sort of planetary alignment magic. Or at least a killer photo-op.
I have a feeling you’re gonna get just that, my friend. Mazel tov on the new record, and hey, how about some of it right now?
