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By Heather Carnes • hcarnes@mscd.edu

� e age of 13 holds so many evils. I remember a large amount of screaming, slight swearing, and a big middle � nger to the expectations of religious society.

But it wasn’t me doing these things.� e Used were my � rst “you’ve gotta

hear this” music group. � e � rst and only Mormon musicians that I actually wanted to listen to. I was in eighth grade when I � rst heard � e Used’s self-titled album, released in 2002, and I was forever changed.

� e band originates from Orem, Utah — a part of the Mormon Motherland of America. � e “promised land” of “my people.” But I wouldn’t have guessed this if it hadn’t been for the music video for “� e Taste of Ink,” when I saw an actress portraying the guitarist’s mother wearing a Bringham Young University T-shirt. My guess was con� rmed once more when I saw the same band member � ash the hand sign for “� e Mormon Word” in the video for “A Box of Sharp Objects.”

� e music, the videos, the band — it all changed my perception of life.

I never found myself able to � t into the norms of Mormon living. My entire life, I’ve loved the smell and taste of co� ee, since I was young I’ve craved the idea of getting piercings and tattoos and I’ve always told

myself I would never marry in the temple because I don’t want to deny anyone entry to the ceremony.

I was convinced all these things meant I was hell-bound.

� e music told me otherwise. Listening to it felt like a sin at the beginning, but soon I found other people, other Mormons, lov-ing the same songs.

My interests and disinterests in life did not make me a bad person. I was 13, how evil could I be? What I thought was evil I now know is common sense — I shouldn’t be practicing a religion I don’t believe in.

So I transferred my faith into � e Used and I have yet to be let down. It’s been seven years of dedication that remains as strong as it was in the beginning. I will admit, there have been a few songs that have le� me disappointed, but they always � nd a way to make it up to me.

� eir most recent album, Artwork, was released in August of 2009. It was the sum-mer a� er my high school graduation, and it promised me my � rst concert experience with � e Used. � e concert was incredible. � e band stayed true to its die-hard fans and played a song from nearly every one of its albums, including all of my favorites from the self-titled collection that � rst drew

me in.� at summer concert was the grand

� nale of my adolescence as I was preparing for life’s next big step: college. � at was two years ago; I still get goose bumps think-

ing about all that electricity coming o� the stage. I grew up (and fell in love) with � e Used, and I will continue to grow with them.

Put your faith in this album. Photo courtesy of The Used

ON THE RECORD

Reawakening to The Used

14 • August 25, 2011 AudioFiles TheMetropolitan

TheMetropolitan AudioFiles  September 8, 2011  •  11

Wesley Reyna • wreyna1@mscd.edu

In my 19th year, Ryan Adams’ Rock N Roll sat in the tray of my five-disc changer for a few weeks after I purchased a used copy of it from a local record store.

One night, I found myself listening to music, alone, in my first apartment. Most of my roommates had moved out. It was a strange time for me. My feelings swayed between a proud independence and a humbling loneliness. An album by my then all-time favorite band, Squad Five-0, played all the way through before my cheap, off brand stereo began changing discs.

Looking back, this stereo seemed like it was the only thing that was ushering my teen years out the front door, like old friends whose stories and favorite songs had been heard and played too many times. At the same time, this stereo let some new and exciting acquaintances in with a clamour.

And, as Rock N Roll played out once again that night, I felt like one of those “new friends” was slinking in once again. It was Ryan Adams. He was a few years older, seemingly cooler and familiar with the unexplainable sadness that comes with growing up.

Then, halfway through the album, the fifth song, “So Alive,” came spinning from

the speakers like a couple dancing across my apartment floor, unaware of anything else in the room, etching their deliberate path, step-by-step, in my mind. That musi-cal etching has remained there ever since. All of a sudden the alternating feelings of proud independence and humbling loneli-ness didn’t baffle me anymore.

The song says it perfectly, though Adams’ lyrics alone couldn’t possibly give you the complete feeling of listening to it. As Adams emotes, “If this is how I feel, then nothing now is true. And nothing now can ever be, taken away from you. Sinking in the past, the things that shouldn’t last. Just put to bed and stand beside me, stand beside me. Always on your side, I’m on your side, and so alive it isn’t real.”

The record continues on a winding road. The tone of each track varies from euphoric to condescending, from spiteful to self-aware. Ryan Adams sounds like a man who is living out the excess of his own rock ’n‘ roll lifestyle to the soundtrack of his own, dizzying creation. The hard partying and drug-abusing imagery of “Note To Self: Don’t Die” leads into the sobering morning light of the slow, softly sung, sparse piano track deceivingly labeled “Rock N Roll”. 

To say that the album Rock N Roll by Ryan Adams changed my life would be inadequate. This album came along at the perfect moment, grabbed me by the hair

and, unexpectedly, dragged me into the dirty, loud, love-filled but heartbreaking rock club that is now my twenties. 

Ryan Adams understands growing up and Rock N Roll. Photo courtesy of Ryan Adams

on the ReCoRd

The Rock N Roll lifestyle

eaR on auRaRia

Marcus Tallitsch of Orphans

TS: You’re a Metro student, correct?MT: Yup.TS: What do you go to school for?MT: I was originally a computer science major; when I finished my math [credits], I decided I didn’t want to do this for the rest of my life and switched to political science, and this will be my last year as such.TS: What band are you in now?MT: Orphans.TS: What other local projects have you been a part of?MT: I’ve been in Solar Bear for about five years, but that’s coming to an end because [the guitarist] Marshall is playing in 3OH!3 and moving to Los Angeles. Before that, I was in April Morning Massacre and before that, I did a brief stint in Drop Dead Gor-geous. TS: So you’re pretty experienced in playing music locally. Would you say it’s difficult?MT: It’s, like, the most fun and the most dif-ficult thing you can do.TS: Why do you stay so involved in it?MT: It’s fun. It’s free expression, you know? [And], someone has got to do it.TS: How would you describe your new proj-ect, Orphans?

MT: Post-hardcore, I guess … just a lot of influences. [With] easy-to-sink-your-teeth-into melodies [and] really aggressive vocals, because that’s the platform I like to use.TS: How long has Orphans been around?MT: We started in mid-January. Marshall [of Solar Bear] gave me a call and let me know that he was going to be on tour with 3OH!3 for the next five months. So, we put Solar Bear on the back burner. Then the drummer for Solar Bear [and] Ben from Ghosts of Glaciers got me in touch with everybody. None of us were really doing anything, so we got together and practiced, not thinking it would go anywhere. All of a sudden it just flowed together really easily. We pretty much wrote these songs over the span of a month and a half and had new ideas every practice. It’s really cool because everyone is coming from the same place; everybody has the same vibe and brings something to the table. It’s cohesive.TS: Are you looking to start any other new projects?MT: Kind of. I’m trying to get a permanent spot in Party Hard after I played synth at their last show. Mostly, I just [performed] stage-dives and I was really good at it. Ap-

parently, my new name is “Karate Pants.”TS: Karate Pants?MT: Yeah, it was the pants I was wearing. I got really drunk and was like, “Watch out!” and started doing spin kicks. Good times … I love our scene right now, its so much better than it was a year ago.TS: How so?MT: Everyone just got so disillusioned. Everyone thought that the only way you could make it out here was to buy in and make some kind of pop thing, which I’m not against. I love great pop music.TS: Do you have any advice for someone try-ing to come up in the scene?MT: Just get out and play — don’t buy in to all this bullshit. My whole [ethic] is “do

what you want to do.” Making it in music is a state of mind. Make it so you love it and so other people can follow it. I know its cliché or whatever, but if it was ever possible, now is the time. Do what you’re going to do, regardless.

Interview by Thomas Stipe • bstipe@mscd.edu

Metro student, Marcus Tallitsch, shreds in Orphans. Photo by Thomas Stipe • bstipe@mscd.edu

Over the past few years, the heavier side of Denver’s music scene has gone through some definite ups and downs; from venues closing and reopening elsewhere to bands disbanding and reforming into a slew of newer, better projects. But few know these ups and downs as well as local musician, and Metro student, Marcus Tallitsch. In our new feature, “Ear on Auraria,” The Metropolitan spoke with Tallitsch about his varying roles in different local bands, as well as his main project, Orphans.

AudioFiles10 December 8, 2011 TheMetropolitan

Sounding off

The evolving songs of Leftmore

Interview by Nikki Work • nwork@mscd.edu

In late 2001, Joe Ziegler got serious with his songwriting in Leftmore. Really serious.Photo courtesy of Joe Ziegler

In the dorms of the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs, Joe Ziegler found musical inspiration from the people, the beer, his friends and, basically, the whole college experience. By December 2004, Ziegler founded Leftmore with Matt Shaw and the duo released their first album, 7 Reasons to Leave, in 2007. Leftmore’s most recent album, For Every Tree, a Seed, was released in September 2010 as a solo effort from Ziegler after Shaw moved on to other projects. The Metropolitan spoke to Ziegler about the loss of Shaw, touring and his heartfelt brand of acoustic-guitar-driven indie rock.

NW: How would you describe your sound?JZ: I haven’t come up with the “right” way to describe my music, but here’s a bit of a red herring: I have worked to create honest rep-resentations of my emotions through song. In many cases, I’ve found a way to take a negative emotion and create something posi-tive with it, which you could say is a goal of my music and even a personal goal of mine. NW: Are you ready for your Dec. 8 show at The Black Sheep?JZ: I’m feeling pretty good about the show. I am friends with each of the bands [sup-porting me], and can’t wait to be down in the Springs. Sometimes, I’ll be at a show I’m playing, thinking, “This is so fun, I can’t believe they let me in for free!” Then I real-ize I’m supposed to go on in 10 minutes and I haven’t written a set-list [laughs]. NW: How did Leftmore start? JZ: “Leftmore” was born from a misheard New Year’s Resolution. Our friend said he wanted to “lift more,” and while every-one else at the party heard him correctly, Matt [Shaw] and I turned to each other

asking, “Did he just say he wants to go left more? What a weird resolution.” The name [started] to take on various meanings; [it was] always personal to us. Matt played with Leftmore until September of 2009 [then] our friend, Chris, drummed for the eight months leading up to Matt’s departure. I personally started playing in 2001 or 2002, just messing around here and there. My friend and I wrote a handful of songs, but I never seriously focused on music until Leftmore started. If there was a driving fac-tor, it was that I struggled otherwise to deal with the day-to-day emotion and recurrent heartbreak I seemed to find regularly. Once I started seriously writing songs, I began to understand songwriting as a creative outlet that I could almost trap negative emotion in. NW: How did your last tour go?JZ: The last tour went well! I had a wonder-ful time, got to see much of the country. I played 40 shows between Sept. 30 and Nov. 19, so I stayed busy, but it was a good brand of busy. Touring can be a “great unknown.” — from the couches you sleep on to how

many people will be at the coffee shop show you’re playing 1500 miles from home. NW: Do you prefer playing coffee shops or large concert halls?JZ: I love playing all kinds of places. There are things that an unplugged coffee-shop set provides that a loud bar or venue can’t. There are things that music venues and bars provide that a coffee shop could never [give]. Venues are great because you have a better chance of bringing out a crowd, but it’s never about the numbers for me at heart. NW: You’re known for not wearing shoes when you play. What’s the story behind that? JZ: I think taking our shoes off became a habit at the house parties we would play. They weren’t shows, necessarily, but the guitars would come out at some point after the booze had, so we were already shoeless and comfy. Now, I pretty much always play without shoes - even when the stage I’m on [is ruined by] used gum, spilt beer and who-knows-what-else.

NW: What’s coming next from you?JZ: I’m in a songwriting contest right now — which could shape early 2012 in an unfore-seeable way — and it more or less requires me to hold tight. I have written eight to 10 songs since the last release, but will continue writing until I’m confident that the next album is ready. NW: Where do you want your music to take you after 2012?JZ: I want to be able to sustain a career as a musician, definitely. I can’t imagine having a more fulfilling occupation and whether or not it’s “what I was meant to do,” I feel like it’s where my heart is. The more people I encounter and share my passion for life with, the better.

Leftmore7:30 p.m., Dec. 8 @ The Black Sheep, $7

Nathalia Velez • nvelez@mscd.edu

Many self-proclaimed music aficionados like Nirvana for the wrong reasons — they think wearing a T-shirt commemorating the late, great Kurt Cobain turns them into cool outcasts. In my eyes, the real Nirvana fans are the ones who lived through increasingly cliché teenage angst and survived, thanks to Cobain-fueled catharsis.

I wasn’t fortunate enough to be a teen-ager during Nirvana’s prime, but I think dis-covering them almost a decade after has it’s own appeal. In Utero was not exactly their most acclaimed album when it was released, but it was my vice of choice during times of young confusion.

My teenage rebellion didn’t stem from strict parents or anti-school anarchy. I grew up in Venezuela, a country that has been slowly falling apart at the hands of Hugo Chavez since 1999. Today, we are seeing how this country’s disintegration will shape future generations.

Many middle-class families, like mine, feel scammed by the government when they are faced with constant relocations and a lack of basic necessities such as electricity or milk.

Just before I started high school, my fam-ily was forced to relocate from the big city to a small coastal town. The big move was the result of a countrywide strike against the government, after which big company branches were shut down.

This was the time when I discovered Nir-vana, the band that got me through the pres-sure of leaving everything I knew behind and starting a new life. Distorted guitars, courtesy of a dirty-haired misanthropist, were exactly what I needed.

One of the few perks of moving is you can decide who you’ll become next. At age 13, this was very clear to me, I was going to be as “against-the-grain” as any teenager can be.

I didn’t want the compiled pop tunes of Incesticide, but I wasn’t ready for the gritty dissonance of Bleach, so Nirvana’s final mas-terpiece, In Utero, was the happy middle-ground for me.

It later positively defined my high-school years, because, who knows how I would have turned out without Kurt’s guidance?

It may not be a good lesson, but Cobain taught me to shy away from attention and

reject it when it comes. That’s how I tell the true fans from the T-shirt exhibitionists — we don’t want to be seen and defined as “grunge,” we’d rather just sulk in a corner.

Almost a decade later, In Utero is still with me on the journey, “out of the ground, into the sky.” As I’ve grown, this album has grown with me and every time I listen to it I feel one step closer to deciphering Cobain’s wonderfully misunderstood mind.

Ultimate alt-rockers, Nirvana, helped listeners rebel and subsuquently provided fashion tips.Photo courtesy of Nirvana

on the record

Nirvana sparks early rebellion