Official Forum Recording Artist?
02-05-2003, 05:09 AM
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Official Forum Recording Artist?
I don't know anything about him, but after reading the article in today's Washington Post about Cody ChestnuTT (that's the way he spells it!), it looks like we may have the official forum recording artist.<ul><li><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A26885-2003Feb4.html">http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A26885-2003Feb4.html</a</li></ul>
02-05-2003, 05:40 AM
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We already have one of those . . . Joel aka GuilTTy already has multiple songs out. :)
Can you copy and paste the article as you need to sign up for the Washington Post in order to read the site.
02-05-2003, 06:55 AM
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Here it is
The Quirky Charms of Singer Cody ChesnuTT
By David Segal
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, February 5, 2003; Page C01
Cody ChesnuTT has so much artistic bravado that he often comes off like a lunatic. It takes zany nerve to proselytize for minutes on end to a crowd that is expecting an R&B concert. It takes nutso courage to invite audience members onstage to ramble about anything on their minds. You have to be a little loopy to point your guitar at a fan, strum a single chord and whisper, "That was for you. Did you get that?"
ChesnuTT did all that and a lot more at the Birchmere on Monday night. It was one of those concerts with the sublime and all-too-rare feel of an improvised evening that could either flounder or fly, sink to fiasco or rise to the status of an Event. When the show ended -- with ChesnuTT singing "I Look Good in Leather" amid fans dancing around him and the microphone he had dragged into the middle of the room -- there was no doubt. This was an Event.
Who is this man who flouts the laws of English capitalization? ChesnuTT grew up in Atlanta and moved to Los Angeles, where he and his band, the Crosswalk, were signed and later dumped by Hollywood Records. Without a record deal, ChesnuTT's band mates "abandoned him like rats on a sinking ship," as it's put on his Web site.
He retreated to his bedroom with a four-track machine, some instruments and a set of headphones and recorded a 36-song, 100-minute, two-disc debut album, which was released in October. It's an all-Cody production: He sang nearly all the songs, played nearly all the instruments and then engineered and mixed the results. Without irony he called it "The Headphone Masterpiece," and if you'd like to buy a copy, don't bother heading to Tower. ChesnuTT started his own label, Ready Set Go!, to distribute the album, which means you'll probably have to hit the Internet to buy it. About 10,000 copies have been sold so far.
The "Masterpiece" in the title is a stretch; the album's canned beats and Casio solos get a little tiring and give it the feel of a promising first draft. But you hear an ambitious and utterly assured songwriter who has soaked up everything from '60s soul and R&B to Brit-pop, psychedelia, blues and gospel. A few labels have asked ChesnuTT to re-record these songs, in a real studio, with a real band. He has flatly refused.
His show Monday made you wish he'd change his mind. In concert, ChesnuTT and his very nimble backup musicians -- Craig Waters on drums and Aaron Ebenspurger on bass -- stroked the songs of "Headphone" into vivid color. In its basic composition (charismatic black guitar player, pair of bushy-haired white guys handling rhythm), the band resembles the Jimi Hendrix Experience, although ChesnuTT's greatest sartorial influence is Sly Stone, and he's no pyrotechnician with his instrument.
He's a strummer, with a voice that recalls Prince and Terence Trent D'Arby. On "Can't Get No Better" he was the glowing lover, crooning, "You forever turn me on." On "The Most Beautiful Shame" he tried to forestall the demise of a relationship with some wistful pleading: "You know who you are / A piece of my heart would be missing / If you let my kissing stop."
On Monday, the preacher in ChesnuTT got nearly as much floor time as the sweet-talker. His gospel is Christian, but looser and flakier than what you hear at the typical Sunday service. "I give these vibes to you so you can pass it on to the next person," he said. "Teach, teach, teach." He's a fan of the randomly inserted aphorism. "No lie can live forever," he announced at one point. "If you've already got the victim, you've already got the victory. Jesus."
He has faith, too, in his own music. "I still learn about myself listening to it," he said, referring to "Headphone." "It's a miracle," he added. "People tell me, 'You made the soundtrack of my life.' "
Toward the end of the show, ChesnuTT asked if there were any poets in the house. There were two, it turned out. The band vamped quietly as a sultry woman identified as Sister Ashley recited an erotic poem ("You move me" was the refrain). Then came Indigo Rose, a dreadlocked guy who threw a funky conniption instead of worrying too much about meter. At one point he was on his back with the microphone stand between his legs, an act of exhibitionism so gratuitous and inane that it worked.
Both performers were strong enough to seem like plants, but ChesnuTT probably lacks the cunning for that sort of hucksterism. He's just crazy enough to believe that his music really is a miracle rather than a commodity he ought to be selling in bulk. A few dozen fans lined up at the merchandise table after the show, but most of them left empty-handed. It seemed an apt ending to a two-hour show with so many genuine surprises: ChesnuTT just hadn't brought enough copies for everyone.
© 2003 The Washington Post Company
By David Segal
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, February 5, 2003; Page C01
Cody ChesnuTT has so much artistic bravado that he often comes off like a lunatic. It takes zany nerve to proselytize for minutes on end to a crowd that is expecting an R&B concert. It takes nutso courage to invite audience members onstage to ramble about anything on their minds. You have to be a little loopy to point your guitar at a fan, strum a single chord and whisper, "That was for you. Did you get that?"
ChesnuTT did all that and a lot more at the Birchmere on Monday night. It was one of those concerts with the sublime and all-too-rare feel of an improvised evening that could either flounder or fly, sink to fiasco or rise to the status of an Event. When the show ended -- with ChesnuTT singing "I Look Good in Leather" amid fans dancing around him and the microphone he had dragged into the middle of the room -- there was no doubt. This was an Event.
Who is this man who flouts the laws of English capitalization? ChesnuTT grew up in Atlanta and moved to Los Angeles, where he and his band, the Crosswalk, were signed and later dumped by Hollywood Records. Without a record deal, ChesnuTT's band mates "abandoned him like rats on a sinking ship," as it's put on his Web site.
He retreated to his bedroom with a four-track machine, some instruments and a set of headphones and recorded a 36-song, 100-minute, two-disc debut album, which was released in October. It's an all-Cody production: He sang nearly all the songs, played nearly all the instruments and then engineered and mixed the results. Without irony he called it "The Headphone Masterpiece," and if you'd like to buy a copy, don't bother heading to Tower. ChesnuTT started his own label, Ready Set Go!, to distribute the album, which means you'll probably have to hit the Internet to buy it. About 10,000 copies have been sold so far.
The "Masterpiece" in the title is a stretch; the album's canned beats and Casio solos get a little tiring and give it the feel of a promising first draft. But you hear an ambitious and utterly assured songwriter who has soaked up everything from '60s soul and R&B to Brit-pop, psychedelia, blues and gospel. A few labels have asked ChesnuTT to re-record these songs, in a real studio, with a real band. He has flatly refused.
His show Monday made you wish he'd change his mind. In concert, ChesnuTT and his very nimble backup musicians -- Craig Waters on drums and Aaron Ebenspurger on bass -- stroked the songs of "Headphone" into vivid color. In its basic composition (charismatic black guitar player, pair of bushy-haired white guys handling rhythm), the band resembles the Jimi Hendrix Experience, although ChesnuTT's greatest sartorial influence is Sly Stone, and he's no pyrotechnician with his instrument.
He's a strummer, with a voice that recalls Prince and Terence Trent D'Arby. On "Can't Get No Better" he was the glowing lover, crooning, "You forever turn me on." On "The Most Beautiful Shame" he tried to forestall the demise of a relationship with some wistful pleading: "You know who you are / A piece of my heart would be missing / If you let my kissing stop."
On Monday, the preacher in ChesnuTT got nearly as much floor time as the sweet-talker. His gospel is Christian, but looser and flakier than what you hear at the typical Sunday service. "I give these vibes to you so you can pass it on to the next person," he said. "Teach, teach, teach." He's a fan of the randomly inserted aphorism. "No lie can live forever," he announced at one point. "If you've already got the victim, you've already got the victory. Jesus."
He has faith, too, in his own music. "I still learn about myself listening to it," he said, referring to "Headphone." "It's a miracle," he added. "People tell me, 'You made the soundtrack of my life.' "
Toward the end of the show, ChesnuTT asked if there were any poets in the house. There were two, it turned out. The band vamped quietly as a sultry woman identified as Sister Ashley recited an erotic poem ("You move me" was the refrain). Then came Indigo Rose, a dreadlocked guy who threw a funky conniption instead of worrying too much about meter. At one point he was on his back with the microphone stand between his legs, an act of exhibitionism so gratuitous and inane that it worked.
Both performers were strong enough to seem like plants, but ChesnuTT probably lacks the cunning for that sort of hucksterism. He's just crazy enough to believe that his music really is a miracle rather than a commodity he ought to be selling in bulk. A few dozen fans lined up at the merchandise table after the show, but most of them left empty-handed. It seemed an apt ending to a two-hour show with so many genuine surprises: ChesnuTT just hadn't brought enough copies for everyone.
© 2003 The Washington Post Company
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