Calexico - Biography
Calexico is in many respects the quintessential American rock band for the new millennium, because of — rather than in spite of -- their international flavors. Calling the sun-baked desert city Tucson home, and just a short hop from the Mexican border, few bands reflect their climatic and cultural surroundings as thoroughly, or pleasingly, as Calexico. The cross-border mix of Latin beats and instrumentation, twangy country, surf guitar, desert-noir and indie rock is plenty beguiling already, but Calexico also incorporates Portuguese fados, Parisian waltzes, Afro-Peruvian and Native American beats, modal jazz, Balkan accents, impressionistic classical, and virtually anything else that slips into their musical melting pot.
The two principal Calexicans first met in 1990 in Los Angeles, where multi-instrumentalist and singer Joey Burns had worked at SST Records and studied classical bass at UC Irvine, and John Convertino was based while playing with Howe Gelb’s quirky Giant Sand conglomerate. Burns officially joined Gelb’s outfit in 1991, anchoring the bass position. In 1994, Convertino and Burns moved to Tucson, Gelb’s home-town, finding they shared an affinity for collecting -- and learning -- vintage instruments. They built their own studio, and during breaks from Giant Sand, began recording their own ideas and developing what would become the Calexico style. They also worked as the rhythm section for the 1995 debut of Bill Elm’s pedal steel-happy Friends of Dean Martinez, The Shadow of Your Smile (Sub Pop Records).
Keeping pace with (or just time for) the esoteric Gelb marked Convertino and Burns as superior and versatile musicians, and after leaving Elm’s outfit in 1996 they soon became a sought-after rhythm section for an eclectic roster, including: the French act Amor Belhom Duo, Richard Buckner, Vic Chestnutt, Michael Hurley, Bill Janowitz, Barbara Manning, OP8 (featuring Lisa Germano), Victoria Williams, Steve Wynn. That spirit of collaboration broadened the duo’s own palette, and would remain a constant element in their musical growth even when Calexico became a full-time venture; they would later partner up with chanteuse Neko Case, Swede singer Nicolai Dunger, Nortec Collective's Panoptica, and Iron & Wine, among others.
The 1996 release of Spoke, first on a German label, then a year later in the US on Chicago’s Touch & Go imprint, Quarterstick, marks the band’s official beginnings. Featuring 19 songs and instrumental snippets (two less than half-a-minute long), the record is clearly the product of a work-in-progress, though the stately and melancholic “Wash” became a staple in the band’s live show for years after. At this stage, however, Burns is tentative and lacks range at the mic, and his strummed steel-string guitar lacks the finesse that would soon characterize his nylon-stringed flourishes and electric guitar experiments. Spoke’s most evocative cuts are instrumentals like “Stinging Nettle” and “Paper Route,” built mostly on vibes, cello, and trap and brushes. These cinematic mood pieces conjure late-night, rolled-down-window rides through barren desert landscapes and star-filled skies, a setting the band would return to with increasing success.
Those vaguely menacing but melodic instrumentals form the backbone of the band’s coming-of-age record, 1997’s The Black Light (Quarterstick). Featuring a striking cover by Latino artist and former SST Records graphic designer Victor Gastelum (who became synonymous with the band’s records), the band’s genius stroke on The Black Light was the addition of music styles from south of the border. While others had adopted some of these elements, most notably the Tex Mex crowd, Calexico’s open-border policy incorporates several Latino sounds at once, from weepy rancheras and Norteno rave-ups to slinky cumbias and trumpet-fueled mariachi parties, especially during their occasional live gigs with Tucson’s Mariachi Luz de Luna.
More importantly, they blend them all seamlessly with their desert-noir soundscapes, more fully developed twang, and surf guitar accents, creating an astonishing hybrid. From the opening cut, “Gypsy’s Curse,” it’s obvious Calexico has found its sonic voice, and become fully confident in the discovery. Burns tosses off glittering reverb glissandos on his electric and flamenco-like runs on the nylon as though some neophyte had taken his place on Spoke. Convertino, one of the most musical drummers in rock, adds the warmth of a Left Bank accordion to the break, while the vibes, glockenspiel, cello, and piano add a haunting patina to what was previously unheard of: a gypsy-surf-spaghetti Western-chanson mash-up. As openers go, it’s a doozy, introducing — in a coherent whole -- bits and pieces of almost everything that follows.
“Minas de Cobre (For Better Metal),” homage to Ennio Morriccone, adds the trumpet blasts that became part of the band’s signature sound, which included the lonesome-sounding, high-desert pedal steel of “Over the Shoulder.” Brief cuts like “Sprawl” and “Where Water Flow” break the narrative up with eerie but evocative interludes, built primarily on spooky vibes and cello swells, while “Chach” and “Fake Fur” use the plucked upright bass, shakers, marimbas and other percussion to create hallucinogenic ceremonial dances. “Sideshow” is a Tom Waits-like accordion-and-strings carnival ride, and “Old Man Waltz” could have been imported from a Left Bank café — all together it creates a rich tapestry where the stitching goes unnoticed.
Burns sings on just seven of the 17 tracks, but his vocals sound far more confident even within his limited range, and are pushed much higher in the mix. The songwriting is sharper and the lack of verse-verse-chorus boilerplate intentional here (vs. Spoke, where it felt forced), as the record, while not a concept album, charts the lifelong course of a cursed outlaw.
But what really anchors the record — and the band’s live shows, which up to this point often featured just Burns on guitar and Convertino on drums — is the second-nature interplay between the two. Like two finely tuned jazz musicians, they mesh innately; Convertino’s minimalistic drum-kit belying his wide range of subtle brush-strokes, Art Blakey power-press rolls, and impeccable timing, while Burns’ multi-instrumental skills provide spot-on organic accents.
For the band’s 1998 European tour, however, they recruited what would later become their full line-up, adding fellow Tucson-ite Jacob Valenzuela on trumpet, bassist Volker Zander, Martin Wenk on trumpet/vibes/guitar, and Lambchop member Paul Niehaus on pedal steel. Translating The Black Light into part border-style dance party/part experimental rock show won Calexico a much bigger audience in Europe, where they played festivals rather than the bars or small rock clubs they did at home.
The expanded line-up also provided new directions to go in, which the band promptly did with 2000’s Hot Rail (Quarterstick). Criticized by the shortsighted for being too jazzy, the record actually further burnishes the band’s Southwestern/border music chops on “El Picador” (which should accompany bullfights), “Muleta” and “Tres Avisos,” but adds Miles Davis-like modal touches as well, particularly on the record’s centerpiece, the eight-minute epic “Fade” (which they would play at the prestigious North Sea Jazz Festival the following year). The prolific Convertino and Burns had also recently recorded one of their many strong tour-only discs, Travelall (Our Soil, Our Strength), with members of the Chicago Underground Duo/Trio and Brokeback, and that more experimental side of Calexico shows up on interludes like “Ritual Road Map,” “Midtown,” and the found sound railroad noises of the disc-closing title track.
Even when the band plays it relatively straight, they’ve added depth: synth strings supplement the melancholy of “Drenched,” and pedal steel gives the dusky “Service & Repair” its lonely twang while Burns sings of urban sprawl (a common theme). The overlapping voices, guitars and vibes on the outro to the spooky “Sonic Wind” — one of their best moments, and augmented live by Valenzuela’s scintillating muted trumpet — made that song a concert staple for years. Hot Rail may not vibrate with the raw excitement of The Black Light’s self-discovery, but its charms tend to unfurl with multiple listens because of its depth; to overlook it is to short-change its importance in the band’s development.
Two solid years of touring through Europe and the Americas followed, during which Calexico solidified their line-up and fan-base, creating an exotic and international-flavored rawk show in the process. They also released the seven-song EP, Even My Sure Things Fall Through (Quarterstick), which included their popular and gig-closing rave-up at the time, “Crystal Frontier.” Their critical profile was growing as well, and music magazines like Paste and Harp began writing longer features on the band to preview their next record, 2003’s Feast of Wire (Quarterstick). And for the first time, the band went into their Wavelab studio in Tucson with their full complement of players.
They emerged with a record that was even broader, sonically. The band added electronic touches here and there, most noticeably on the Latin Playboys-like "Attack El Robot! Attack!," and augmented their jazz repertoire with a Gil Evans/Charles Mingus-influenced number, "Crumble." This time the strings were real, with the Tucson Symphony Orchestra contributing to the Morricone-flavored "Close Behind.” They also recorded their first straightforward indie rock song, "Not Even Stevie Nicks.”
Other tunes on Feast of Wire suggested more traditional Calexico fare, both thematically and sonically. "Quattro (World Drifts In)" depicted the inevitable demise of the Tarahumara, a native Indian tribe of the Sierra Madres Occidental range in Mexico whose unique culture—and lives—are threatened by drug trafficking. The song begins with a foreboding guitar riff, augmented by a Native American drum beat and maracas, and a percussive deadened-string strum on an acoustic. Various electric guitars then add layers of call-and-response lines on the simple five-note repetition; trumpets and pedal steel join the controlled chaos, bemoaning the unfolding tragedy that Burns recounts in his wistful tone.
The theme of the opening cut, "Sunken Waltz," is again urban sprawl, as well as the coming southwestern water crises—a traditional topic for a band whose motto, "Our Soil, Our Strength," also serves as their own label imprint. Burns even alludes to Mike Davis’ underground history of Los Angeles, City of Quartz, in a typical Calexico narrative about a character who, Thoreau-like, heads back into nature to escape the urban madness, often while civilization is getting hammered by some cataclysmic event; in this case, ironically, a flood.
The often brutal cruelty that characterizes the lives of illegal immigrants is another topic Calexico often explored, most notable previously on "Crystal Frontier.” Another cut, "Across the Wire" was inspired by Luis Urrea’s book of the same title, and musically, by Burns’ immersion in a recorded anthology of Mexican folk music. On a lighter and slinkier note, the banda-flavored "Güero Canelo" celebrates a Tucson eatery while a Casio synthesizer, baritone guitar and low-rider bass-thump captures the city’s cross-cultural vibe.
This being Calexico, of course, a handful of sultry instrumentals tie everything together, serving as segues, emotional rest stops, or picturesque vignettes. "Pepita" suggests more Native American influences, "Dub Latina" combines modern electronic and traditional salsa touches, and the minimalist sketch, "The Book & the Canal" (later used as the title for their 2005 tour-only CD), hints at classical pianist Erik Satie (a previous influence) and jazz giants Art Tatum and Bud Powell.
But Feast of Wire marks the point where Calexico began undergoing subtle, but fundamental, changes. At some point after the record’s release, Burns and Convertino told Gelb they could no longer play their role as rhythm section in Giant Sand, something they’d managed to juggle along with their Calexico duties until then. Gelb later accused Burns of staying in Giant Sand just long enough to ensure that Convertino would go with him, and the mood turned rancorous and sour. As for Calexico, Feast of Wire charted the band for the first time, resulting in bigger gigs in the States. A follow-up EP, Convict Pool (2004 Quarterstick), featured a popular re-working of Love’s “Alone Again Or,” a song seemingly made for Calexico, whose live shows and tour EPs indulged their covers’ fix. A live DVD capturing the band in full flight at a full-house performance with Mariachi Luz de Luna in London -- World Drifts In: Live at the Barbican (Quarterstick)-- also appeared in 2004.
The next year, Overcoat Records’ Howard Greynolds, who had engineered a successful Tortoise and Bonnie Prince Billy collaboration the year before, got Iron & Wine and Calexico together in the latter’s Tucson studio for the EP, In the Reins (Overcoat Records). The seven songs were written by Iron & Wine's Sam Beam, but the music tilted more toward Calexico, and a subsequent joint tour — which included an appearance on The Late Show with David Letterman — found fans from both bands’ increasing the other’s ranks.
But another change in musical direction — or, more accurately, the direction of the change itself — on 2006’s Garden Ruin (Quarterstick) came as a surprise to many long-time fans. The truth however, was that most of the indie rock, folk and twang accents that characterized almost all of the record’s 11 cuts had been in Calexico’s kit bag all along. They had simply been overshadowed by the exotic international accents the band had deployed so skillfully, and with such great success.
The first sign that things had changed is the absence of Gastelum artwork on the cover for the first time on any non-tour only Calexico release since Spoke. Musically, Burns is center-stage, having traded his nylon strings for acoustic steel, and opting for far more intimate, personal narratives. That’s not all: for starters, there are no instrumental interludes; the signature trumpet blasts have also all but vanished (check their reduced role on “Cruel”); most of the international accents have been repatriated (“Roka” and the French-language “Nom de Plume” being the exceptions); the spooky desert vibes are mostly replaced by warmer glockenspiel tones (“Panic Open String”); and the band’s late-night exotic sounds have largely been supplanted by wistful indie pop (“Bisbee Blue,” “Lucky Dime”) or nerve-wracked indie rock, where the chaos and fear of the Bush years emerges in frenetic, cathartic crescendos (“Letter to Bowie Knife,” “Deep Down,” and disc-closer “All Systems Red”).
It’s a safe bet that even fans who really dug Garden Ruin also missed the cross-cultural melting pot of Calexico’s previous work. And there were some who just didn’t like it all. So when 2007’s all-instrumental, tour-only Tool Box appeared, full of old school experimental interludes and international flavors, some wondered: Were Burns and Convertino, who played everything on it, telling long-time fans they still had those weapons at their disposal? Or were they simply clearing out what was left in farewell to an era?
