The Ashleys

If you think about it, we're living in a time and in a city where you can actually go out and see six decades' worth, or more, of Detroit music performed live by the original performers. Things happen to be aligned in such a way that kids in need of a Detroit-style music education can actually get one in the flesh, with a beer in hand. (You can start in the 1940s and '50s jazz and blues with Alberta Adams and Alma Smith, cap it with rising stars such as Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. or Danny Brown.)

And think about this: Detroit is one of few places in the Western world where, for the most part, it's perfectly acceptable for a musician to age, where old cats are respected, revered even, by the kids with instruments coming up.

It's that overall mind-set that helps career resurrections in these parts, which often equals hipster gold: Look to local godheads such as Rodriguez, Death, Andre Williams, Dennis Coffey, Black Merda, Melvin Davis, Johnnie Bassett, Nathaniel Mayer (RIP), the Rockets and even Bettye LaVette, and lots of others, for that dictum. A few aforementioned got their livelihood jump-started from young and respectful Detroit musicians, who backed them on stage or produced their albums, such as Matt Smith, Jeff Meier, Dave Shettler and others.

Because this town doesn't exactly worship youth it flies in the face of the fleeting tastes in the mainstream. That's a beauty of Detroit.

The city's riotous history has shown us how great art rises from burning buildings and wretched, and how scary times can produce incredible soundtracks.

Detroit is a historic anomaly like New Orleans or Memphis in that it upholds traditions of music regionalism — which is a kind of authenticity — and that informs our contemporary music.

So for a town that appears to be dying on the vine, the music only expands. For example, between emcees and DJs such as, say, Phat Kat, Dez Andres, Derrick May, HouseShoes, Elzhi and Invincible, it'd be difficult to tally the '60s soul and gospel song — from the tiny labels that dotted Detroit like dirty laundromats — that inform their styles.

Jaye Thomas of dance-indie trio the Rogue Satellites agrees. "While I doubt that most of our greats from the '50s and '60s are contributing much in the way of new work, each has a relevant legacy," he says. All the new music worthy of your ear is informed by those legacies. Detroit artists with respect for their roots and an eye on the future have a tremendous well to draw from. I think Iggy Pop will be a vivacious gyrating maniac well past his autopsy!"

What's fascinating is the city's class of newer artists aren't, for the most part, rooted or limited to one particular genre and would excel on any mixed bill, country, jazz, hip hop, blues, jazz, pop, metal, folk, punk, electronic, whatever. Not that we'd ever see it, but Internet hip-hop star Danny Brown could easily split a bill with electro-popsters Lettercamp. And who couldn't share a stage with alt-country's Whitey Morgan & the 78's?

Tom Bahorski of the Ashleys, a new rock 'n' roll band with a decidedly garage spirit, digs Detroit for that very reason. "What separates Detroit from other towns and 'scenes' is how consistently diverse and consistently amazing the art that pours out of here has been for over half a century," Bahorski says. "There's something in the water. I was once told it was mercury. A little mercury never hurt anyone."

Lettercamp lass Liz Wittman sees the authenticity in the city's soundscape, and says the new breed of Detroit musician has all but abandoned any dreams of mainstream adulation.

"In the grand scheme of things, Detroit is not the first city that labels and the like are looking to for their next big payday (even though it should be)," Wittman says. "And I believe Detroit artists know that, and so what you end up getting from a Detroit artist is honesty and an authentic approach to creativity. We don't write songs and play shows with the expectation that we will be rich and famous. We play because it's who we are. That in itself breeds longevity and the perseverance to see it through. I think that is why you see Detroit artists from the '70s and so on still present today and still with an audience. In the long run, I believe honesty is what keeps people's interest and gives them something they can relate to. And really, that is what you are gonna get from Detroit musicians."

Of course, it ain't perfect here, and we've our fair share of assholes. Some digging reveals that Detroit burns bright when city lights are low, and there's lots of beauty here, musical or otherwise. Those who've lived elsewhere know the score that we are luckier than we know. For my part, reviewing music in England, L.A. and New York isn't nearly as thrilling as it is here; for one, because there isn't nearly as much talent.

Local indie mainstay Ryan Allen sees the area's history as a double-edged sword: "I have mixed feelings about this," he says. "When you see Iggy's weird, baseball glove of a body writhing around on the American Idol stage, it's hard not to think of it as a bit comical and almost embarrassing. On the flip, it's pretty awesome to watch a sixtysomething Iggy Pop writhe around on the American Idol stage and still be able to freak everybody out. No matter what you think, music is in his blood, and it's in the blood of all the other legendary pillars of Detroit rock 'n' roll. Should they hang it up? Well, nobody — and myself for that matter — wants to be the aging hipster. But the more I think about it, it seems as often as the kids get it right, sometimes, they seem to get it wrong. A little rust and wear on people is actually pretty attractive to me, and the new batch could learn a thing or two from the old guard. Detroit, right now, seems to be meeting the eternal 'old versus young' discussion somewhere in the middle, and thirtysomethings like myself can simultaneously feel old and out of touch, as well as fresh and new, just by comparison alone. Regardless, music streams through the bloodlines of this town — young or old — and most of us just can't help it. We've just gotta play — whether we actually fit into our skinny jeans, or are just trying to. As long as you're not dead in the ground, nothing else should stop you."

With this weekly City Slang column — along with daily music blogging at blogs.metroimes.com — my aim will be to document the oddballs, geniuses, workhorses and the dipshits who inhabit and recharge this incredible musical landscape No genre or era shall go untouched.

This is your city, so feel free to send in your kudos, quips and rants. We look forward to it. - Metrotimes

So we've got a lot of bands in this town; that's not news (it's a headline as overcooked as some of these waffles). I'm having brunch with eight Detroit bands. It doesn't take long for the White Stripes' name to come up, but, we quickly raise our Bloody Mary's in some audacious impromptu séance. It's 2011 and though we admit at the onset that it's ludicrous, especially with the Internet fluctuating buzz bands on kaleidoscope conveyor belts, to think any writer or magazine can incontrovertibly say, "Yes, this is it," we still can't deny a certain energy in the air. And, hey, there's an old cliché that rock 'n' roll is saved every 10 years or so.

A dozen musicians from eight different bands cluster in the kitchen of singer/songwriter Jesse Shepherd Bates, (who leads or contributes to four other bands), and we all sleepily congregate and converse, our mustering refracts any likely scenario where these bands would be anxiously tuning themselves up to trade sets on a loud stage. But it's 11:30 a.m., ... not p.m. and instead of swilling Genuine Draft, we're sipping organic fair trade coffee.

And of course, we're scarfing Bates' renowned waffles. Eventually, Frank Woodman (fire-topped dad rocker) saunters in swathed in a purple fuzzy bathrobe, with donuts, with drummer Max Daley in tow. Bates' kitchen has become tantamount to the local rock scene's underground Sunday diner. And breakfast usually leads to soundboarding ideas and inevitable collaborations.

"I think people are tired of not being friends ..." Deadbeat Beat singer/guitarist Alex Glendening posits.

The occasion: Pewter Cub, FUR, Lightning Love, Woodman, The Kickstand Band, The Ashleys, The Deadbeat Beat, The Satin Peaches, The HandGrenades, Phantasmagoria and Jesse & the Gnome are performing one epic show.

Ostensibly, it's for Bates' 24th birthday, but it's also a sample/showcase, not just of the current local rock lightning rods, but their unique sensibility. Paring back competitiveness, Pewter Cub's singer/guitarist Regan Patricia Lorie said, and instead incanting: "... the sincerity and quality of the people in this scene and the music itself automatically eliminates the need for one-upmanship."

"That's why they had backlash," Woodman, a decades-long supporter/attendee of local music, said of days from 10-years' prior, that of the music-press mangled "garage explosion." "But, I could never imagine there being backlash with these bands."

Bates suggests the "White Stripes-effect." "This whole competitive boom or whatever happened then because the impression was, 'Oh, shit, people are gonna be paying attention, we've got this shot! So, everybody started competing with each other. Then ... we figured out: 'Oh, wait, that shot's probably not gonna happen ... so, maybe, let's just actually support each other and ..."

Woodman: "I think there's a lot of joy in playing." Lorie: "And we're all just really digging each other's bands." Bates: "... and it's all just really fun and it's positive!"

Asked what they get (and give each other) in their ricocheting roles of performing/supporting each other's live shows ... Nuccilli: "I think ... 'I need to write songs as good as Allison' (of Kickstand Band)." Woodman: "The youthful energy helps ... I think we all want to shine in our own way, that's not a bad thing. As much as we love each other I think when we play together there's that air of, 'I gotta bring my A-game cuz I know they're gonna bring their's.'"

When or how can a scene become more ...?

Glendening: "I think if you're gonna have a 'scene,' or anything like that, you're too close to it if you're in it. You could never see it, that's something that happens in retrospect – always. A community, though, can be built in real time, but ..." Nuccilli: "You can't try to build a scene." Glendening: "That's something you have no control over, really, except what you put into it."

Bates: "I think everybody should say: 'Fuck all the rules.' Everybody's always talking about, 'Don't play more than two shows in a month or people won't come out ... don't play with the same band twice ... you might not make as much money ...' It's not about that, we're all at the point where we've realized that we need side-jobs or day jobs if we're gonna consider this, music, as are main non-paying job ... it's not about money. It's about playing and experiencing each other, not as fans, but as listeners ... and being an active listener."

NEWS: the Ashleys have "gotten louder," in 18 months of performing their two-man garage rock tumble and will be releasing a self-titled debut EP in May. April 6 is also singer/guitarist Tom Bahorski's birthday.

The Deadbeat Beat have finished an album with producer Matthew Smith, out soon on cassette (via Gold Tapes). They're working on a split 7-inch single with Ann Arbor's Secret Twins (recorded with Kickstand Band singer/guitarist Gordon Smith). Their guitarist is also starting his own label. Kickstand Band are currently wrapping up their own 7-inch single to be released later this year. They're hoping to tour asap. FUR, likewise, are wrapping up new material and are "talking about doing" a 7-inch single soon.

Woodman are piecing together material for a forthcoming album of sorts ... Frank said he hopes to solidify a recording appointment with budding engineer and Lightning Love guitarist, Ben Collins.

Pewter Cub, also, will have a 7-inch single soon, complimenting their EP (released last October), while they look forward to plotting future "mini-tours" with Pink Lightning.

Bates said the Satin Peaches "are at a turning point," but also have a 7-inch single ready. His other band The Gnome also has a single ready. Bates is working on a rap project while Peaches' Morris records songs with Collins.

Lightning Love are wrapping up their second LP. The HandGrenades put out their Three Cheers for the Wonder Years EP last January. Phantasmagoria are putting out a single on FiveThreeDialTone this May. - Real Detroit Weekly

Oh, the Ashleys? You don't know? Duderino, this noisy-as-fuck, tin-lidded two-piece has been working crowds into sweat frenzies for a year. Why stop now? Free pot, that's why. But God knows good bud costs. And so do good tunes. - Metrotimes

The Ashleys Handsome Tom-guitar, vocals; Dreamy Steve-drums, vocals

Blowout's big on your wanting to hear bands you've yet to. You've heard of them, but haven't had the pleasure. Well, performing aural service just for you are the Ashleys — also known as "that one band I keep hearing about." And yes, these lo-fi revivalists are indeed another duo.


What song of yours would you want played as the credits of a film. What's that film and why would it work?

Tom: "In My Sights" set to the opening credits of Vanishing Point, the 1971 original. It syncs up great with the trailer, with car chases, babes and a complete disregard for human life. I'm pretty sure that's what we're known for. That and our quilt collection.

Steve: I think "Barney (Put the Gun Down)" would work great for the beginning of The Lion King. It's got car chases, babes and a complete disregard for human life.

What's your best city slogan for Hamtramck in 2011?

Hamtramck: Great Potatoes. Tasty Destinations.

Which Detroit music legend would you add to your group, and why?

Tom: Tito Jackson. I'm sure he's available and could use the work. Or Jackie Wilson. I've been skating by on my handsomeness for way too long.

Steve: Miss Aretha Franklin could really class up our act.

Who's the best artist/band (other than yours) playing Blowout?

Tom: I'm going to give it to JSB Squad

Steve: Beekeepers — a truly wicked band.

What Blowout bar bathroom is best for a hasty drunken tryst?

The Painted Lady; it has that danger factor. - Metrotimes

My story about how I dsicovered The Ashleys is this. After I interviewed Kory Kopchick of the band Citizen Smile for Real Detroit Weekly, me and him quickly became friends and I would continue to see him out at a lot of shows whether or not he was playing at them (support!). Kory would always tell me about other bands he likes around Detroit, and The Ashleys were one of them. Actually, the members of Citizen Smile and The Ashleys are all good friends – the play a lot of shows together. Well, Kory was always telling me how great The Ashleys are.

Finally, at this year’s Metro Times Blowout, I got to see The Ashleys perform and I was instantly amazed. The duo of Tom Bahorski (vocals and guitar) and Steve Olshove (drums) seem to put the fun back into all this music stuff. Bahorski is up there donning beads, sunglasses, and a goofy shirt shredding on his guitar. The drumming from Olshove is something wild and crazy, but nothing short of infectious. The Ashleys are serious about not being serious, and that makes them seriously serious. Nothing pretentious here, its like partying with your buddies drinking some brews.

Their Blowout performance made me want to investigate the band more, where I would eventually land on their Bandcamp page for their debut EP Can’t Take It. I dropped the three bucks for the EP, and was even more amazed by their recorded material. Eventually talking with Bahorski, I was actually the first person to buy the EP off there so they were assured their Paypal account was working properly. He would end up buying me a drink at the Magic Stick in return.


Can’t Take It is an impressive debut effort from The Ashleys. It captures the amazing youth energy of the Detroit indie rock scene happening today. Specifically, I see The Ashleys’ sound reminiscent of the more harder, blues-driven Whites Stripes material, but with more of a Beastie Boys Check Your Head sort of attitude. Songs like “In My Sights” or “Joanna” are catchy, like the type of songs that could be played in movies. The Ashleys are a soundtrack for harmless and young tomfoolery. - The Loop Detroit

I think a measured amount of recklessness is a necessity for wellness, - both mental and physical.

Sweeping, sublime works of beauty and grace certainly have their place, and we all gnosh, now and again, on the guilty pleasures of pristine, sun-soaked patchworks of pretty, poppy, pirouets. But, I feel imbalanced if I go very long without being properly shaken up. Times like those: I go to Detroit duo, the Ashleys - tightly wound rhythms and maelstrom guitars, churned out in rubbery, blues-inflected roars and fuzzed out vocals blurting and howling out monosyllabic taunts. Essentially: the essence of what many perceive as "garage rock..." Whether that's a lingering ghost or a hot-button topic in this town is for another day's debate...

Tom shrugs. "(It)'s hastily put together, but...the songs are like us."

The Ashleys' singer/guitarist goes on about their debut EP: "It's a good representation of where we are and I think it shows our songwriting capabilities and promise of what's to come."

Their penchant for facetiousness is never far, though, as drummer Steve assures explosions of "pure awesomeness in your face" to describe their live presentation.
Also: "pure...sexual...raw...energy..."

"Volume," Tom nods, folloiwng up, "pagaentry...sheer sex."

The Ashleys are the most punctual band I've ever encountered. Not just on-time, they were early. I felt tardy even though I, myself, was one-minute early for our interview--let the record show.

There they were, somewhat rail-framed, dirty-blonde tussled tops with shadows at their young jaw lines, chatting casually together, settled at the rickety cafe table and adding a few pinches' worth of calories to their self-proclaimed-pocket-lint-scrounging daily diets by toasting mugs of coffee and stirring in plenty of their signature sarcasm-spiked charm between sips.

Being cousins, Tom Bahorski and Steve Olshove share resemblances, both in physical appearance and conversational mannerisms. "It's in the eyes," Olshove quips, "and our mirthful smiles...our smirks..." But obviously, their kinship goes deeper than blood and the forthcoming Can't Take It EP is a fine representation of their musical bond. Fine, loud and fast. The EP - recorded at Jim Diamond's Ghetto Recorders - gets a proper unveiling, May 7th at the Belmont.

Between their intermitten spin-offs onto inside-joke jiving tangents, ripe with pop-culture references and warped by various screwball/surrealist reflections, they shared a bit about their band, The Ashleys, and their music...

"We started as a two-piece 'cuz we couldn't find anyone else to play with us," Bahorski said. The pair have been "jamming," working out songs together in basements for almost 10 years now.

They "rocked numerous projects" in said-basement, inviting a revolving cast of defacto third members to join veritable one-night-only recording sessions, documented with audacious band names like The Ledgemen or Working Class Stiff's, stringing together entire album's worth of 2-minute tracks of slamming, slopping, fits forged in the heat of the moment.

"Always us-two and some bass player..." Bahorski shrugged, "like Spinal Tap."

It was about two years ago when Olshove implored his cousin that they should finally get serious and start "a real band" one that plays "real" shows. "I said I was 'in,'" Bahorski recalls his response, "as long as you do all the work, find us a singer and a bassist."

But here we are, today, finding Bahorski as both the lead singer (if somewhat reluctantly) and the bass player (if somewhat indirectly or unnoticeably). If you go to an Ashley's show and close your eyes, you'll think it's a quartet. You also might then get smacked in the face by a venturing-Tom's guitar neck, so don't keep them closed for long... In any case, the four-armed-cousins haul three separate amps with them from stage to stage, facilitating Bahorski's subtly inventive patch work splitting his guitar's sound through multiple amps (thanks to his bemusing octave pedals, bolstered by a digi-tech whammy upgrade).

"That's what it is," Olshove said, "him with a digi-tech whammy, playing bass guitar and whatever else, simultaneously, and then me...going crazy."

"We don't do well with metronomes," Bahroski said, "(Steve)'s got some of the wackiest rhythm. That's the benefit of having just two people, if one of us screws up...then...yes, half the band has screwed up, but we can come back really fast."

"We always seem to recoup," Olshove said.

On their songwriting process-- Bahorski: "(Steve) comes up with a lot of ideas, I don't like them. Then I come up with a lot of ideas...and Steve doens't like them. Then, we end up doing the same songs again."

Olshove: "That's how we end up getting better material, being our own harshest critics. We call the other one out if it sounds like shit."

Bahorski: "Or the other person just starts ignoring the other's song... Usually the best stuff happens when we switch, when Steve writes on guitar and I'm on drums. See, I can tell him what I don't like because he won't get mad...He'll huff and puff. It don't matter. The next time he'll come up with an awesome song and then the next time we'll play that..." So goes the advantage of dealing with family. Family-band-members will often tend to be much more forgiving...

Asked, finally, to surmise their live presentation: "It's like a constant ending," Bahorski said, all too ready to conjure cinematic visuals. Like the Death Star blowing up on-repeat...for each song. "It's one big finale. Some people have the strong opening and then slow it down. This one is just the whole time..."

"It's like Vanishing Point," Olshove says. "It's one big car chase...but then at the end, it blows up finally."

Bahorski: "And then you wanna watch it again." - Deep Cutz

If there’s one new release that everyone in Detroit should own, it’s the Ashleys’ debut CD Can’t Take It (self-released). The duo has been honing their live set to the point where, by the time they stepped into Ghetto Records to record with Jim Diamond, they were on top of their game. Every one of these seven songs is amazing; dirty, sonic, garage mayhem performed with passion and power. Can’t Take It isn’t just the best release this month; it’s one of the best of the year so far. - Metrotimes

From Bantam Rooster to the White Stripes and, more recently, the Jehovah's Witness Protection Program, even Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr., or the Thornbills, the rock 'n' roll two-piece has become less a novelty and more an acceptable band format in these parts. Whether it be the simplistic garage-blues attack of the Stripes or the Rooster, or the loop-filled approach of JWPP, or the popist mash-up of DEJJ, or the psyche-folk of the Thornbills, the rock duo has evolved in the Motor City since the days of the Flat Duo Jets, or such earlier acts as old T. Rex or even Simon and Garfunkel.

The Warren-based Ashleys are the latest pairing ready to buck conventional thinking when it comes to what two musicians are capable of.

Tom Bahorski (vocals and guitar) and Steve Olshove (drums) are cousins who've been playing music together for as long as they've been playing music — since middle school, actually. They played with Kory Kopchick and another guy called James Brown, now of Citizen Smile, and for a while in a band called Amidon's Army (after a substitute teacher's name and Elvis Costello's "Oliver's Army") without making impact. When that group simply withered, the cousins went "duo."

Over beers at a Ferndale bar, the Ashleys come clean about their whole two-piece thing, which is completely independent of the current two-piece phenomenon.

"A year and a half ago, we started playing shows because we couldn't find any other members," Olshove says. "I really wanted to get a band going, so we decided to do it as a two-piece. It was like Spinal Tap, where all the drummers die ... we had that same thing with bass players. Except they didn't die. They were just lame or not good enough or they kinda disappeared. That's basically why we're a two-piece. We couldn't find anyone that fit in with us."

It's true, fitting in is a matter of taste. The boys sport appropriate rock 'n' roll 'tudes, like a socially awkward Pete Doherty or an ADD Gallagher brother. Both are rather twitchy and nervous, very self-deprecating — but with that all-important air of arrogance.

They agree that their sound is very "Detroit," meaning it's dirty and rough but ultimately charming. "That's very fair," Olshove says. "We want to be loud and obnoxious. We want to force people to listen to us. We're like sex in a Dumpster. Dirty but kinda romantic, or at least, romantic as long as the Dumpster sex is with someone you love."

"I don't actually know what we sound like," Bahorski adds. "Simple, but not hyper-simplistic. We're not minimalist. We used to call it 'caveman rock,' just banging on drums and riffing away. Two notes. We've talked about using loops, but I don't think we're good enough to keep time with a loop. We tend to speed up and slow down as needed."

After years of writing and playing together, and developing their gloriously messy style, the Ashleys have an abundance of songs written and demos recorded, and they're gearing up to record their debut EP in the new year.

"Hopefully, by spring of 2011, we'll have an EP," Bahorski says. "It all comes down to cost. ... We're gonna record it in two days, so we'll see what we've got. It might be another disaster."

One must wonder, when considering that, much like the Ramones, neither Ashley is actually called Ashley.

"There's a bar in Ann Arbor called Ashley's," the frontman says, grinning. "When I was going to school, at the University of Michigan, I used to get drunk there. Steve suggested that we should come up with a name like the Smiths, that's like a name. As I was walking out of the bar one day. ..."

Putting Morrissey references aside, how much racket can two people really make? Truth be told, they've been giving PA systems around metro Detroit a real bashing since forming a year and a half ago.

"You can actually make a lot of noise with just one person, like that scene in This Is Spinal Tap, where he's playing the solo and kicking the violin," Bahorski says.

"You can make as much noise as the PA system can put out," Ashley Olshove adds.

True to honest Detroit rock 'n' rollers, the Ashleys are eager to point out that they are well aware of the masters who came before them. Respect is there.

"There are a lot more poppy groups now," Bahorski says. "I'm not sure how much they look up to bands like the MC5. Everybody likes the MC5 and the Stooges, but I think people are specifically trying to do something different. I don't know how much. I can only speak for myself. I think everybody has a sense of the musical history of the city. Whether everybody looks up to those guys is up in the air, I guess."

The two Ashleys are looking forward to what should be a fairly respectable 2011 "We'll have something recorded for people to purchase, I hope," Bahorski says. "We might play a gig in Philadelphia because someone offered us a place to crash there; we can see the place where they make the cream cheese. We'd really like to play the Blowout; last year we missed the application deadline by a day — we've already put in the application this year."

"I'd be happy if a fan came who we don't know," Olshove says — with no irony. "They know of the Ashleys, but we don't know them personally. They just came to see us. That would be great. Just one is all I ask."

Maybe they need a gimmick to be heard, to earn a fan or two?

"I'm going to play naked," Olshove says, deadpan. "I'll tuck my wiener in and do the Silence of the Lambs thing, playing the drums."

Bahorski's expectations are far less lofty.

"I'll be wearing a new shirt." - Metrotimes