Berry

Editor's note: Samantha Crain is a great local musician in her own right... definitely among the best singer/songwriters in the state. When she messaged me about interviewing the band, Berry, I thought it might be interesting to let her take over as the interviewee. My instincts served me well, and she delivered interview with an intamacy that's most likely only found among touring companions.

My relationship with the band, Berry, started with an Altoid can... sort of. The first time I met Joey Lemon, Paul Goodenough, and Matt Aufrecht, they had just finished playing a show at the Contemporary Music Center on Martha's Vineyard, and I was trying to recover from a shock and awe. There was a ghost in Joey's voice, a processed demon in Paul's drumming, and a vampire coming up from the coffin of Matt's piano case, but the Holy Spirit was exorcising them all into a heavenly choir of rock 'n roll angels.

The melodies were there, and they were strong, but just as you'd prepare to sit in and wiggle down into the song, they'd change it up with a noisy fuzz or a dissonant shout. The music I had just heard was undeniably unconventional, but these three guys were different, too. And that’s where the Altoid can comes in....Matt had turned an Altoid tin into a headlamp, and it flashed in all it's oddball glory, as he pounded on his Yamaha CP70 Electric Grand Piano. Joey, the guitarist, pointed to his headlamp (store-bought, unlike the one Matt wore) and explained that they were trying to find a gimmick. Their banter was playful, their presentation was inviting and humble, their songs were pensive, and then communal, and then intoxicated. They were everything I’d ever wanted in a band but had never found.

Now, two years later, I'm on the phone with Joey, Matt, and Paul recalling that night, trying to dig to the bottom of their creative well, and sharing a fair number of laughs too.

SC: Were you serious about wanting to have a gimmick, or was that a joke?

Joey: It was a joke, but it was also a solid attempt at a gimmick.

Matt: That's the ridiculous part, though. We told everyone we were trying to find a gimmick, so it doesn't really make much sense to tell people your gimmick.

SC: What do you think about bands with gimmicks?

Joey: I think if that gimmick is a hot female, then it's awesome.
Matt: Is there a difference between a gimmick and a shtick?

Paul: The thing about a good gimmick is that you have to pass it off as not being a gimmick.

Joey: I think gimmicks are cool, if they're done well.

I start talking to the guys about their recent move to Chicago from Greenville, IL and the huge amount of recording they've done recently (three EPs in about the same amount of months). They've made each of the new EPs (Floundering, Advent, and Recovery) available on their web site for free download (www.berrymeme.com).

SC: So, why so many EPs in such a short amount of time?

Matt: Because it's easier than touring. You don't get to play video games on tour.

Joey: Yeah, and because we all had to get jobs when we moved to Chicago, we knew we'd be working a lot. We still wanted to be productive as musicians, and we're all living together so we thought it'd be a good time and opportunity to record a bunch.

SC: When are you recording these if you're working so much? Do you record your individual parts at different times when it's convenient for you or are you all together when you record?

Matt: We try to be in the same room as much as possible and then whatever we don't get done, we'll finish individually.

Joey: Usually we try to get everyone together one day a week and do it then.

SC: Has Chicago proved to be a good move for you in terms of inspiration? Would you say it's different or better than working and living in Greenville?

Matt: Well it's different. It's a totally different set of Berry rules, different parameters. We've never all lived together this closely before...

Joey: We're all busier now because of work. We have less time, but we get more done. It's a different reality. It's not necessarily better.
Matt: I'd say its better.

Paul: We really focus here on the music because there's less time. In Greenville, we had all the time in the world, so we took studio time for granted. We'd go in and record like 17 guitar tracks, and realize we didn't really get much done. Here in Chicago, we're just trying to trim the excess, get the process down, and churn out music. Really milk it.

I tell them that I’ve noticed that a lot of my friends who are musicians don't listen to any music while they are writing or recording. They don't want their product to sound like whatever they are listening to at the time. Now, I've spent months on the road with this band (My first tours were opening for Joey's solo tour and, then, Berry) and I saw Joey and Paul writing every day but there was hardly any estrangement from music in the van. (I seem to recall a lot of Make Believe, U2, Akron - Sophie Zine

Editor's note: Samantha Crain is a great local musician in her own right... definitely among the best singer/songwriters in the state. When she messaged me about interviewing the band, Berry, I thought it might be interesting to let her take over as the interviewee. My instincts served me well, and she delivered interview with an intamacy that's most likely only found among touring companions.

My relationship with the band, Berry, started with an Altoid can... sort of. The first time I met Joey Lemon, Paul Goodenough, and Matt Aufrecht, they had just finished playing a show at the Contemporary Music Center on Martha's Vineyard, and I was trying to recover from a shock and awe. There was a ghost in Joey's voice, a processed demon in Paul's drumming, and a vampire coming up from the coffin of Matt's piano case, but the Holy Spirit was exorcising them all into a heavenly choir of rock 'n roll angels.

The melodies were there, and they were strong, but just as you'd prepare to sit in and wiggle down into the song, they'd change it up with a noisy fuzz or a dissonant shout. The music I had just heard was undeniably unconventional, but these three guys were different, too. And that’s where the Altoid can comes in....Matt had turned an Altoid tin into a headlamp, and it flashed in all it's oddball glory, as he pounded on his Yamaha CP70 Electric Grand Piano. Joey, the guitarist, pointed to his headlamp (store-bought, unlike the one Matt wore) and explained that they were trying to find a gimmick. Their banter was playful, their presentation was inviting and humble, their songs were pensive, and then communal, and then intoxicated. They were everything I’d ever wanted in a band but had never found.

Now, two years later, I'm on the phone with Joey, Matt, and Paul recalling that night, trying to dig to the bottom of their creative well, and sharing a fair number of laughs too.

SC: Were you serious about wanting to have a gimmick, or was that a joke?

Joey: It was a joke, but it was also a solid attempt at a gimmick.

Matt: That's the ridiculous part, though. We told everyone we were trying to find a gimmick, so it doesn't really make much sense to tell people your gimmick.

SC: What do you think about bands with gimmicks?

Joey: I think if that gimmick is a hot female, then it's awesome.
Matt: Is there a difference between a gimmick and a shtick?

Paul: The thing about a good gimmick is that you have to pass it off as not being a gimmick.

Joey: I think gimmicks are cool, if they're done well.

I start talking to the guys about their recent move to Chicago from Greenville, IL and the huge amount of recording they've done recently (three EPs in about the same amount of months). They've made each of the new EPs (Floundering, Advent, and Recovery) available on their web site for free download (www.berrymeme.com).

SC: So, why so many EPs in such a short amount of time?

Matt: Because it's easier than touring. You don't get to play video games on tour.

Joey: Yeah, and because we all had to get jobs when we moved to Chicago, we knew we'd be working a lot. We still wanted to be productive as musicians, and we're all living together so we thought it'd be a good time and opportunity to record a bunch.

SC: When are you recording these if you're working so much? Do you record your individual parts at different times when it's convenient for you or are you all together when you record?

Matt: We try to be in the same room as much as possible and then whatever we don't get done, we'll finish individually.

Joey: Usually we try to get everyone together one day a week and do it then.

SC: Has Chicago proved to be a good move for you in terms of inspiration? Would you say it's different or better than working and living in Greenville?

Matt: Well it's different. It's a totally different set of Berry rules, different parameters. We've never all lived together this closely before...

Joey: We're all busier now because of work. We have less time, but we get more done. It's a different reality. It's not necessarily better.
Matt: I'd say its better.

Paul: We really focus here on the music because there's less time. In Greenville, we had all the time in the world, so we took studio time for granted. We'd go in and record like 17 guitar tracks, and realize we didn't really get much done. Here in Chicago, we're just trying to trim the excess, get the process down, and churn out music. Really milk it.

I tell them that I’ve noticed that a lot of my friends who are musicians don't listen to any music while they are writing or recording. They don't want their product to sound like whatever they are listening to at the time. Now, I've spent months on the road with this band (My first tours were opening for Joey's solo tour and, then, Berry) and I saw Joey and Paul writing every day but there was hardly any estrangement from music in the van. (I seem to recall a lot of Make Believe, U2, Akron - Sophie Zine

While Texas-based indie label Right Place Records released Berry's 2005 crit-hit full-length Marriage (the label has plans to release their next full-length in January 2008) drummer Paul Goodenough says there's a good chance the band's upcoming February ‘07 six-song EP, tentatively titled Empathy (The Me Me Me EP), "will be a good, old-fashioned DIY effort."

The band's change in production technique on Empathy (favoring Pro Tools over two-inch analog tape) and new lineup (Kit Hamon replaced bassist Sam Campbell in April, a split Goodenough calls "heartbreaking—but we're still friends") will showcase a "more guitar-driven" sound than did Marriage. "Sonically, I think of Marriage as a subtle, nuanced record. It sounds hazy to me now, like the songs are being played behind a curtain, or at the other end of a big auditorium." The sounds on Empathy are "much clearer, brighter, maybe even harsh at times. We all experimented with new guitar and noise tones, more screeching distortion."

The two releases are similar in that they both fit specific themes. "Marriage dealt with a crumbling relationship and all of the depression, resignation, and quiet hope that consumes you in that situation. Most of the writing on Empathy is coming out of [singer/guitarist Joey Lemon's] first year of a Masters in Counseling program."

This focus on counseling helped cohere the new lineup. "All of the songs try in one way or another to explore someone else's point of view," Goodenough says. "And I think that translated into a greater willingness to listen to each other as a band and try new ideas."

After a year of travel, promoting Marriage with tours of both coasts and one-off festival showcases—a Wall of Sound festival bill in Fort Worth, Texas, with Okkervil River, Low, and Octopus Project was a high point—the St. Louis/Greenville, Ill.–based quartet (also featuring keyboardist Matt Aufrecht) is contemplating a more permanent relocation in the spring. According to Goodenough, the move stems from a need to "kick our own asses out of the comfort zone. We all feel like we're in a rut and that a new place would be really great for everybody."

He continues with the same familiar logic that has hastened the departure of dozens of ambitious St. Louis bands before them: "Not to knock St. Louis, but there are some amazing scenes out there—Kansas City, San Francisco, Norman, Boston—and I think that St. Louis is missing out on a lot of great bands because for whatever reason people here just don't go to shows. I mean, why can't a great room like Radio Cherokee stay open? Why does a venue close every month? It's just not a place to make a living as a rock musician."

Catch St. Louis' other Berry in town while you can as they hit Off Broadway on December 14 with friends Black Tie Dynasty from Fort Worth, Texas. Just don't ask them to do the duck walk. | Brian McClelland - Playback St. Louis

While Texas-based indie label Right Place Records released Berry's 2005 crit-hit full-length Marriage (the label has plans to release their next full-length in January 2008) drummer Paul Goodenough says there's a good chance the band's upcoming February ‘07 six-song EP, tentatively titled Empathy (The Me Me Me EP), "will be a good, old-fashioned DIY effort."

The band's change in production technique on Empathy (favoring Pro Tools over two-inch analog tape) and new lineup (Kit Hamon replaced bassist Sam Campbell in April, a split Goodenough calls "heartbreaking—but we're still friends") will showcase a "more guitar-driven" sound than did Marriage. "Sonically, I think of Marriage as a subtle, nuanced record. It sounds hazy to me now, like the songs are being played behind a curtain, or at the other end of a big auditorium." The sounds on Empathy are "much clearer, brighter, maybe even harsh at times. We all experimented with new guitar and noise tones, more screeching distortion."

The two releases are similar in that they both fit specific themes. "Marriage dealt with a crumbling relationship and all of the depression, resignation, and quiet hope that consumes you in that situation. Most of the writing on Empathy is coming out of [singer/guitarist Joey Lemon's] first year of a Masters in Counseling program."

This focus on counseling helped cohere the new lineup. "All of the songs try in one way or another to explore someone else's point of view," Goodenough says. "And I think that translated into a greater willingness to listen to each other as a band and try new ideas."

After a year of travel, promoting Marriage with tours of both coasts and one-off festival showcases—a Wall of Sound festival bill in Fort Worth, Texas, with Okkervil River, Low, and Octopus Project was a high point—the St. Louis/Greenville, Ill.–based quartet (also featuring keyboardist Matt Aufrecht) is contemplating a more permanent relocation in the spring. According to Goodenough, the move stems from a need to "kick our own asses out of the comfort zone. We all feel like we're in a rut and that a new place would be really great for everybody."

He continues with the same familiar logic that has hastened the departure of dozens of ambitious St. Louis bands before them: "Not to knock St. Louis, but there are some amazing scenes out there—Kansas City, San Francisco, Norman, Boston—and I think that St. Louis is missing out on a lot of great bands because for whatever reason people here just don't go to shows. I mean, why can't a great room like Radio Cherokee stay open? Why does a venue close every month? It's just not a place to make a living as a rock musician."

Catch St. Louis' other Berry in town while you can as they hit Off Broadway on December 14 with friends Black Tie Dynasty from Fort Worth, Texas. Just don't ask them to do the duck walk. | Brian McClelland - Playback St. Louis

About a year ago now, I saw Berry play in a tiny club in the less posh section of downtown Indianapolis. They were the fourth band on the bill, following a garage band who were blandly competent, a band attempting to ape Radiohead as absolutely as possible, right down to the floppy-haired guitarist, and a guy who started his set by bringing out a television and an easy chair, then proceeding to do nothing with them. They sat beside him as he banged away on a piano and sang some of the worst crap I've ever heard. By the time he finished, it was nearly 1 am, and the club, brand new and alcohol free, was empy except for me, six people, and the first band. Berry took the stage.

Before they began, singer Joey Lemon took a brief moment to thank the band who stayed and berate the ones who didn't. I half expected them to skip their set entirely, but they didn't. Instead, they played a few songs off the album they were touring behind, last year's fantastic Marriage, and annouced that, since the people who stayed were clearly devoted fans, they were going to play their upcoming EP in its entirety. Which they proceeded to do with aplomb.

So why is this story relevant, besides that fact that it and this review both involved Empathy? Well, both the show and the EP embody a lot of the same characteristics. Anger, frustration, cruelly apt sarcastic asides, and slightly-more-than-infrequent avant-garde detours. Watching the band play Empathy in a frustrated state was sort of like watching someone sing YMCA in a public shower: revealing, disturbing, and not always entirely pleasant, which is not to say that Empathy is a weak record.

In fact, the EP is fairly strong, although the overall feel is much more abstract than the artsy but significantly more accessible Marriage. While 'There Are Several' had its share of noise, it also had a chorus that crawled inside your head and wouldn't crawl out. The closest Empathy ever gets to a singalong chorus are the opening lines of 'Courtney Luv's refrain, “Jesus Christ, the cops are coming after us.” That's about it for anthemic. 'Courtney Luv' deserves more than a cursory mention because it gathers all the divergent aspects of the record and the band itself into one tight-knit little package. Starting off sounding like a drunken jazz band, the song falls into a nice chorus groove before sliding effortlessly into the remarkably loud, angry chorus. The song ends with two or three minutes of extremely bombastic noise that grows more and more chaotic, with crashing piano, rattling cymbals, and guitars that probably had to be retuned afterwards. Interesting fact: Courtney Love (the real one) has a song called 'Berry'.

'Dirty' is the only song that doesn't work particularly well, probably because, in addition to not being particularly catchy, it's the least interesting song musically, despite a werid time signature that I still can't put my finger on. 'Ecstacy' succeeds as a slow jam, despite proving an adage I've always held, namely that no song is ever really improved by the phrase “fucking shithole.” '22.50 An Hour' and 'Protesty' are tight jams, and 'Frantic Fly' round out the EP in a surprisingly pleasant fashion, sounding more like Keane or (insert other, more flattering band here) than Sonic Youh.

So overall, Empathy is a lot weirder and more aggressive than Marriage, and it might be offputting to some listeners. It was even a little difficult for me at first, until I put myself back in the little club at 1 am. It was just a little easier to empathize that way.

7.7

Brent Waggoner - Firesideometer.com

About a year ago now, I saw Berry play in a tiny club in the less posh section of downtown Indianapolis. They were the fourth band on the bill, following a garage band who were blandly competent, a band attempting to ape Radiohead as absolutely as possible, right down to the floppy-haired guitarist, and a guy who started his set by bringing out a television and an easy chair, then proceeding to do nothing with them. They sat beside him as he banged away on a piano and sang some of the worst crap I've ever heard. By the time he finished, it was nearly 1 am, and the club, brand new and alcohol free, was empy except for me, six people, and the first band. Berry took the stage.

Before they began, singer Joey Lemon took a brief moment to thank the band who stayed and berate the ones who didn't. I half expected them to skip their set entirely, but they didn't. Instead, they played a few songs off the album they were touring behind, last year's fantastic Marriage, and annouced that, since the people who stayed were clearly devoted fans, they were going to play their upcoming EP in its entirety. Which they proceeded to do with aplomb.

So why is this story relevant, besides that fact that it and this review both involved Empathy? Well, both the show and the EP embody a lot of the same characteristics. Anger, frustration, cruelly apt sarcastic asides, and slightly-more-than-infrequent avant-garde detours. Watching the band play Empathy in a frustrated state was sort of like watching someone sing YMCA in a public shower: revealing, disturbing, and not always entirely pleasant, which is not to say that Empathy is a weak record.

In fact, the EP is fairly strong, although the overall feel is much more abstract than the artsy but significantly more accessible Marriage. While 'There Are Several' had its share of noise, it also had a chorus that crawled inside your head and wouldn't crawl out. The closest Empathy ever gets to a singalong chorus are the opening lines of 'Courtney Luv's refrain, “Jesus Christ, the cops are coming after us.” That's about it for anthemic. 'Courtney Luv' deserves more than a cursory mention because it gathers all the divergent aspects of the record and the band itself into one tight-knit little package. Starting off sounding like a drunken jazz band, the song falls into a nice chorus groove before sliding effortlessly into the remarkably loud, angry chorus. The song ends with two or three minutes of extremely bombastic noise that grows more and more chaotic, with crashing piano, rattling cymbals, and guitars that probably had to be retuned afterwards. Interesting fact: Courtney Love (the real one) has a song called 'Berry'.

'Dirty' is the only song that doesn't work particularly well, probably because, in addition to not being particularly catchy, it's the least interesting song musically, despite a werid time signature that I still can't put my finger on. 'Ecstacy' succeeds as a slow jam, despite proving an adage I've always held, namely that no song is ever really improved by the phrase “fucking shithole.” '22.50 An Hour' and 'Protesty' are tight jams, and 'Frantic Fly' round out the EP in a surprisingly pleasant fashion, sounding more like Keane or (insert other, more flattering band here) than Sonic Youh.

So overall, Empathy is a lot weirder and more aggressive than Marriage, and it might be offputting to some listeners. It was even a little difficult for me at first, until I put myself back in the little club at 1 am. It was just a little easier to empathize that way.

7.7

Brent Waggoner - Firesideometer.com

Life is noisy. This morning, I awoke to my 'Stairway to Heaven' ringtone. Before I even got out of bed, I heard cars speeding by, a redneck with a glass-pack revving up his pimped-out Civic, and someone stomping up the stairs. By the time I got to work, I'd been assaulted by rumbling trains, screaming illegals, idiot DJs, and nearly the entire radio catalog of the Black Eyed Peas. Everyday living, for better or worse, isn't a nice, well-mannered affair. It's an auditory battleground, where sounds both grating and haunting battle for the ears of their captive audience.

Berry knows this, and, drawing on the same canvas as Sonic Youth and Brian Eno, they've assimilated the hectic cacophony of the daily grind into their music. Marriage is an album where sugary, Death Cab melodicism sits disconcertingly alongside spitting showers, fragmented tape loops, and sped-up symphonies. Guitars switch from whispers to crashes in seconds, Built to Spill turns to found sound collages, and the band switches from full on arena rock to emo-earnest balladry in the switch of a chord.

Tape hiss introduces 'Dreams Bleed,' and vocalist Joey Lemon entreats the listener to '”Come on and see / a heart break slowly,” a common lyrical trope that would seem cliched if it didn't sound like he was singing it mournfully during his morning shower. The washroom reverb and intimate vocalizing refresh the well-worm sentiment, and when the track bleeds into the driving, chaotic 'Middle Man,' it sounds like Berry has had their morning coffee and are ready to rock. 'Broken Machine' ups the ante on melody, moving from noisy soundscapes to upbeat indie pop, until the end when the band can't resist injecting a bit of bedlam into the proceedings before winding it down, perhaps deciding that simply telling the listener that the machine is broken just won't do. Show me, and I remember, and it works.

However, it is on 'There Are Several' that the disparate elements of Berry's sound sit most comfortably side-by-side. “The night was only / A long flight of endurance / I take a blow, then give one / Oh, blessed assurance,” croons Lemon over top of a solitary plucked guitar. As he repeats the pre-chorus refrain, life goes on behind him. Water runs, voices break in, pool balls clack together, and it resolves into the album's most cathartic chorus, “There are several hours of push and shove / I bury my head in your love / I've taken so much / I never get enough.” Soft and desperate, experimental and tuneful, awkward and at ease, 'There Are Several' blends everyday discomfiture into a harmonic tapestry of conflicting sounds and sensibilities.

The album's pace picks back up for 'Kitchen' and slows again for the largely acoustic 'Tracing.' The album follows this pattern of heavy song/soft song throughout, but that's not to say the sound is homogeneous. Each song sounds like it belongs, but repeated listens bring out previously unheard nuances. The pleasantly atonal piano plinks on 'Broken Machine,' the subtle sublimity of 'Praise the Lord's harmonies, the Radiohead-esque guitar break from 'Kitchen,' combine to give this album its unique sound. Singularity through symbiosis, personality through patchwork, Marriage is a photograph of the day to day as told by the aural watercolors that paint its landscapes.

'Foreign Lover' closes the album with 6 or 7 minutes of mostly incomprehensible noise, held together only by the metronome drums and assiduous drumbeat, a fever dream following a day in the trenches. Cellphones ring, water continues to run, choirs sing, and it seems like the perfect way to consummate Berry's Marriage. - Firesidometer.com

Life is noisy. This morning, I awoke to my 'Stairway to Heaven' ringtone. Before I even got out of bed, I heard cars speeding by, a redneck with a glass-pack revving up his pimped-out Civic, and someone stomping up the stairs. By the time I got to work, I'd been assaulted by rumbling trains, screaming illegals, idiot DJs, and nearly the entire radio catalog of the Black Eyed Peas. Everyday living, for better or worse, isn't a nice, well-mannered affair. It's an auditory battleground, where sounds both grating and haunting battle for the ears of their captive audience.

Berry knows this, and, drawing on the same canvas as Sonic Youth and Brian Eno, they've assimilated the hectic cacophony of the daily grind into their music. Marriage is an album where sugary, Death Cab melodicism sits disconcertingly alongside spitting showers, fragmented tape loops, and sped-up symphonies. Guitars switch from whispers to crashes in seconds, Built to Spill turns to found sound collages, and the band switches from full on arena rock to emo-earnest balladry in the switch of a chord.

Tape hiss introduces 'Dreams Bleed,' and vocalist Joey Lemon entreats the listener to '”Come on and see / a heart break slowly,” a common lyrical trope that would seem cliched if it didn't sound like he was singing it mournfully during his morning shower. The washroom reverb and intimate vocalizing refresh the well-worm sentiment, and when the track bleeds into the driving, chaotic 'Middle Man,' it sounds like Berry has had their morning coffee and are ready to rock. 'Broken Machine' ups the ante on melody, moving from noisy soundscapes to upbeat indie pop, until the end when the band can't resist injecting a bit of bedlam into the proceedings before winding it down, perhaps deciding that simply telling the listener that the machine is broken just won't do. Show me, and I remember, and it works.

However, it is on 'There Are Several' that the disparate elements of Berry's sound sit most comfortably side-by-side. “The night was only / A long flight of endurance / I take a blow, then give one / Oh, blessed assurance,” croons Lemon over top of a solitary plucked guitar. As he repeats the pre-chorus refrain, life goes on behind him. Water runs, voices break in, pool balls clack together, and it resolves into the album's most cathartic chorus, “There are several hours of push and shove / I bury my head in your love / I've taken so much / I never get enough.” Soft and desperate, experimental and tuneful, awkward and at ease, 'There Are Several' blends everyday discomfiture into a harmonic tapestry of conflicting sounds and sensibilities.

The album's pace picks back up for 'Kitchen' and slows again for the largely acoustic 'Tracing.' The album follows this pattern of heavy song/soft song throughout, but that's not to say the sound is homogeneous. Each song sounds like it belongs, but repeated listens bring out previously unheard nuances. The pleasantly atonal piano plinks on 'Broken Machine,' the subtle sublimity of 'Praise the Lord's harmonies, the Radiohead-esque guitar break from 'Kitchen,' combine to give this album its unique sound. Singularity through symbiosis, personality through patchwork, Marriage is a photograph of the day to day as told by the aural watercolors that paint its landscapes.

'Foreign Lover' closes the album with 6 or 7 minutes of mostly incomprehensible noise, held together only by the metronome drums and assiduous drumbeat, a fever dream following a day in the trenches. Cellphones ring, water continues to run, choirs sing, and it seems like the perfect way to consummate Berry's Marriage. - Firesidometer.com

Like legendary shoegazing post-rockers Hum, Berry hails from the middle of Illinois (Greenville, specifically) and makes expansive songs that, at their best, sound bigger than the sum of their parts. On the six-song EP Empathy (which follows last year's full-length, Marriage), the quartet adds some muscle and grit to its fractured brand of dream-pop. Many of these songs toy with time signatures and employ stuttering rhythms, and the band never shies away from a chance to utterly destroy a song's structure. Lyrically, several of these songs toe the line between sexual attraction and repulsion: "$22.50/Hour" sings of a "second-hand part-time lover" (take that, Stevie Wonder!), while the next track, "Dirty," sounds like a filthy after-hours seduction on a bed of guitar squalls.

The musicians in Berry know how to wrestle rickety distortion from their guitars, but they often use keyboards as a stabilizing force. The barroom piano that holds down "Courtney Luv" adds an almost classic-pop feel to the song's multiple movements, while the final track, "Frantic Fly," is a culmination of Berry's best traits: fat piano chords bookend the track, a mini organ fugue sneaks its way into the bridge, and the tempo is steady enough for singer Joey Lemon to build momentum and shoot for the stars on a vapor trail of fuzzy feedback. - Riverfront Times

Like legendary shoegazing post-rockers Hum, Berry hails from the middle of Illinois (Greenville, specifically) and makes expansive songs that, at their best, sound bigger than the sum of their parts. On the six-song EP Empathy (which follows last year's full-length, Marriage), the quartet adds some muscle and grit to its fractured brand of dream-pop. Many of these songs toy with time signatures and employ stuttering rhythms, and the band never shies away from a chance to utterly destroy a song's structure. Lyrically, several of these songs toe the line between sexual attraction and repulsion: "$22.50/Hour" sings of a "second-hand part-time lover" (take that, Stevie Wonder!), while the next track, "Dirty," sounds like a filthy after-hours seduction on a bed of guitar squalls.

The musicians in Berry know how to wrestle rickety distortion from their guitars, but they often use keyboards as a stabilizing force. The barroom piano that holds down "Courtney Luv" adds an almost classic-pop feel to the song's multiple movements, while the final track, "Frantic Fly," is a culmination of Berry's best traits: fat piano chords bookend the track, a mini organ fugue sneaks its way into the bridge, and the tempo is steady enough for singer Joey Lemon to build momentum and shoot for the stars on a vapor trail of fuzzy feedback. - Riverfront Times

Barefoot and quiet, the Illinois natives berry took the stage tonight at relative theory records, modestly introducing themselves and misleading everyone in attendance away from the explosion of sound that would soon follow. The melodic mix of noise and indie rock that the group brought to the stage was a treat rarely received in this area. They contain the ability to produce controlled ruckus that is capable of not only being structured, but also wonderful to listen to.

I was able to sit down with them outside the record store shortly after their set for an informal interview, that proved to be a genuine enounter with a band that was equally as interested in the local music scene as I was in them. The band berry has been together for about 4 years, and has “been through about 15 members” since they began, tells lead singer Joey Lemmon. Hailing from Greenville Illinois, this quartet is now made up of: singer/guitarist Joey Lemmon, Drummer Paul Goodenough (real name), Bassist Kit Hamon, and Matt Aufrecht who primarily plays piano but whose instruments range from the tambourine to his own piano stool. This was easily one of the most unique performances I have ever seen, capping off the set with a mind-blowing version of the song ‘There are Several’ that had each member of the band frantic with noise coming from the most unlikely of places, such as bassist Kit Hamon playing with what looked like a mr. spell, and Matt Aufrecht with as I mentioned before, the squeaking of his own piano stool with some effects added.
The bands influences range from Sonic Youth to U2, im told, but when I asked them what influenced the music besides other bands is when they really opened up. “Sounds… relationships …higher beings,” says Joey Lemmon. The band went on to say that spirituality is a big part of why they do what they do, “A search for meaning, or purpose,” as they put it. The only two original members still part of the band are Joey and Paul, who told me the reasons behind deciding to play music for a living were as simple as wanting to do what they love and make a job out of it, a luxury that many of us will never have.
Currently the band is singed to Right Place Records (http://rightplace.tv/) out of Texas, where the band plans to stay for 4 full lengths or “As long as they’ll have us”. Their first full length titled Marriage, is ten tracks of honest vulnerability and personal emotion coming through to anyone that will take the time to show interest in their lives. With modern influences such as Animal Collective, Dave Bazan, and Band of Horses, this album is a good choice for fans or casual listeners of any of those artists.
This relatively young (23-25) band is on the right track to making a name for themselves. Looking the way that true hardworking bands should (tired, unkempt, and drinking a lot of coffee) you can find them traveling to Ohio as of now, but be on the lookout for future shows in this area (or in whatever area you may be reading this from). If you were at tonight’s show I congratulate you, if not I hope that you make it a point to find them in the future, and get yours hands on the album Marriage. Expect (more) great things from this band. - Relative Theory Records

Barefoot and quiet, the Illinois natives berry took the stage tonight at relative theory records, modestly introducing themselves and misleading everyone in attendance away from the explosion of sound that would soon follow. The melodic mix of noise and indie rock that the group brought to the stage was a treat rarely received in this area. They contain the ability to produce controlled ruckus that is capable of not only being structured, but also wonderful to listen to.

I was able to sit down with them outside the record store shortly after their set for an informal interview, that proved to be a genuine enounter with a band that was equally as interested in the local music scene as I was in them. The band berry has been together for about 4 years, and has “been through about 15 members” since they began, tells lead singer Joey Lemmon. Hailing from Greenville Illinois, this quartet is now made up of: singer/guitarist Joey Lemmon, Drummer Paul Goodenough (real name), Bassist Kit Hamon, and Matt Aufrecht who primarily plays piano but whose instruments range from the tambourine to his own piano stool. This was easily one of the most unique performances I have ever seen, capping off the set with a mind-blowing version of the song ‘There are Several’ that had each member of the band frantic with noise coming from the most unlikely of places, such as bassist Kit Hamon playing with what looked like a mr. spell, and Matt Aufrecht with as I mentioned before, the squeaking of his own piano stool with some effects added.
The bands influences range from Sonic Youth to U2, im told, but when I asked them what influenced the music besides other bands is when they really opened up. “Sounds… relationships …higher beings,” says Joey Lemmon. The band went on to say that spirituality is a big part of why they do what they do, “A search for meaning, or purpose,” as they put it. The only two original members still part of the band are Joey and Paul, who told me the reasons behind deciding to play music for a living were as simple as wanting to do what they love and make a job out of it, a luxury that many of us will never have.
Currently the band is singed to Right Place Records (http://rightplace.tv/) out of Texas, where the band plans to stay for 4 full lengths or “As long as they’ll have us”. Their first full length titled Marriage, is ten tracks of honest vulnerability and personal emotion coming through to anyone that will take the time to show interest in their lives. With modern influences such as Animal Collective, Dave Bazan, and Band of Horses, this album is a good choice for fans or casual listeners of any of those artists.
This relatively young (23-25) band is on the right track to making a name for themselves. Looking the way that true hardworking bands should (tired, unkempt, and drinking a lot of coffee) you can find them traveling to Ohio as of now, but be on the lookout for future shows in this area (or in whatever area you may be reading this from). If you were at tonight’s show I congratulate you, if not I hope that you make it a point to find them in the future, and get yours hands on the album Marriage. Expect (more) great things from this band. - Relative Theory Records

When Greenville, Ill., quartet Berry lists The Beatles as one of their influences, they must be referring to the White Album–era experimentation, as videnced by the several-minute, “Revolution 9”–ish noise collage that brings their debut full-length, Marriage, to its cacophonous end. It manages to work, although the song ends a few minutes after the song ends, if you get my drift, which feels a bit indulgent in a look-we’re-making-serious-art-here kind of way. Ballsy experimentation like this runs throughout the album, with four lo-fi recordings—sparse arrangements recorded live in a Greenville College dorm bathroom, directly to a two-track tape machine singer/guitarist Joey Lemon bought for $30 on eBay—mixed with more polished studio tracks. The album’s opener, “Dreams Bleed,” is one of these primitive bathroom recordings, consisting of nothing more than a quiet voice, a delicately picked acoustic guitar, and a few scattered (and oftentimes abrupt) banging noises—sounding like Lemon might have recorded the song at his kitchen table while his wife did the dishes (perhaps grudgingly) nearby. When you release a heartbreakingly sad record titled Marriage, this image seems fitting. And when most bands today are front-loading CDs with their most accessible stuff, frightened of an audience with little attention span and an itchy “eject” finger, this kind of sequencing is a daring move.

Skipping back and forth between these two recording styles certainly adds some diversity; but the songs from the bathroom recordings are so strong that one can’t help feeling that they’re underserved by their lo-fi presentation. Because, make no mistake, these songs are thoughtful, well crafted, and surprising in the best way—filled with serpentine arrangements, deliciously enigmatic lyrics, and gorgeously fragile melodies. And the low-key “Dreams Bleed” provides an exciting transition to the next track, “Middle Man,” which kicks in with a fully realized studio production, and the band firing on all cylinders.

And what a band. The first thing that knocks you out when you see Berry live is just how competent each member is on their respective instrument. And it’s refreshing that, although these guys have chops to spare—most notably drummer Paul Goodenough, whose ability to casually shuffle between time signatures borders on sublime—they’re mature enough as musicians to know that while kick-ass solos get old, kick-ass songs are forever. None of Marriage’s ten tracks are marred with overplaying, or settle into a standard groove or familiar pattern. Adept at shifting a song’s meter or rhythm on a dime while keeping the arrangement a cohesive whole, this is a band more focused on supporting their singer’s soaring voice than wanking on their own. And while the mix of Lemon’s ethereal vocals and complex, sometimes prickly arrangements may draw comparisons to late-era Radiohead, the band fits more comfortably next to Grandaddy (minus the spacey keyboards) and one of their stated influences, Pedro the Lion, without sounding derivative or forced. - Playback St. Louis

When Greenville, Ill., quartet Berry lists The Beatles as one of their influences, they must be referring to the White Album–era experimentation, as videnced by the several-minute, “Revolution 9”–ish noise collage that brings their debut full-length, Marriage, to its cacophonous end. It manages to work, although the song ends a few minutes after the song ends, if you get my drift, which feels a bit indulgent in a look-we’re-making-serious-art-here kind of way. Ballsy experimentation like this runs throughout the album, with four lo-fi recordings—sparse arrangements recorded live in a Greenville College dorm bathroom, directly to a two-track tape machine singer/guitarist Joey Lemon bought for $30 on eBay—mixed with more polished studio tracks. The album’s opener, “Dreams Bleed,” is one of these primitive bathroom recordings, consisting of nothing more than a quiet voice, a delicately picked acoustic guitar, and a few scattered (and oftentimes abrupt) banging noises—sounding like Lemon might have recorded the song at his kitchen table while his wife did the dishes (perhaps grudgingly) nearby. When you release a heartbreakingly sad record titled Marriage, this image seems fitting. And when most bands today are front-loading CDs with their most accessible stuff, frightened of an audience with little attention span and an itchy “eject” finger, this kind of sequencing is a daring move.

Skipping back and forth between these two recording styles certainly adds some diversity; but the songs from the bathroom recordings are so strong that one can’t help feeling that they’re underserved by their lo-fi presentation. Because, make no mistake, these songs are thoughtful, well crafted, and surprising in the best way—filled with serpentine arrangements, deliciously enigmatic lyrics, and gorgeously fragile melodies. And the low-key “Dreams Bleed” provides an exciting transition to the next track, “Middle Man,” which kicks in with a fully realized studio production, and the band firing on all cylinders.

And what a band. The first thing that knocks you out when you see Berry live is just how competent each member is on their respective instrument. And it’s refreshing that, although these guys have chops to spare—most notably drummer Paul Goodenough, whose ability to casually shuffle between time signatures borders on sublime—they’re mature enough as musicians to know that while kick-ass solos get old, kick-ass songs are forever. None of Marriage’s ten tracks are marred with overplaying, or settle into a standard groove or familiar pattern. Adept at shifting a song’s meter or rhythm on a dime while keeping the arrangement a cohesive whole, this is a band more focused on supporting their singer’s soaring voice than wanking on their own. And while the mix of Lemon’s ethereal vocals and complex, sometimes prickly arrangements may draw comparisons to late-era Radiohead, the band fits more comfortably next to Grandaddy (minus the spacey keyboards) and one of their stated influences, Pedro the Lion, without sounding derivative or forced. - Playback St. Louis

Marriage
Amplifier Magazine

Berry is every bit as interested in evoking an atmosphere as creating an actual musical soundtrack. After a pair of similarly toned and themed EPs (2003’s Sunday Morning Breakfast and 2004’s The Manor), the St. Louis quartet returns with their debut full length, Marriage, an album that perfectly displays the band’s broad stylistic range and shifting sonic palette. On some tracks, Berry approximates the more experimental moments from Witco’s recent output, from the DIY acoustic urbane Americana balladry of “Dreams Bleed” to the gentle electric screed of “Silver Rose” and the dirge-like descending noise collage of “Foreign Lover.” Elsewhere, Berry makes like a tribute to Crazy Horse on “Middle Man,” sways with R.E.M.’s laconic urgency on “Broken Machine,” and gets a little Death Cabby on “Tick Tock.” The common element to it all is Berry’s commitment to making sure something fascinating is always cooking in the spaces between the music. - Amplifier Magazine

Marriage
Amplifier Magazine

Berry is every bit as interested in evoking an atmosphere as creating an actual musical soundtrack. After a pair of similarly toned and themed EPs (2003’s Sunday Morning Breakfast and 2004’s The Manor), the St. Louis quartet returns with their debut full length, Marriage, an album that perfectly displays the band’s broad stylistic range and shifting sonic palette. On some tracks, Berry approximates the more experimental moments from Witco’s recent output, from the DIY acoustic urbane Americana balladry of “Dreams Bleed” to the gentle electric screed of “Silver Rose” and the dirge-like descending noise collage of “Foreign Lover.” Elsewhere, Berry makes like a tribute to Crazy Horse on “Middle Man,” sways with R.E.M.’s laconic urgency on “Broken Machine,” and gets a little Death Cabby on “Tick Tock.” The common element to it all is Berry’s commitment to making sure something fascinating is always cooking in the spaces between the music. - Amplifier Magazine