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Todd Steed and the Suns of Phere
Knoxville Tells
Disgraceland Records
By William Michael Smith
 When I was young
I learned all I needed to know
From watching the Andy Griffith Show
Except for a few overseas teaching gigs, Todd Steed has spent
his life in Knoxville, Tennessee, much of it in and around the
University of Tennessee. Obviously if he didn't like the place
he'd be living in Ames, Iowa or Midland, Texas or up on Ruby
Ridge in Idaho. But as we all know, familiarity can breed contempt.
Steed's latest project is a tell-all expose on his hometown.
Take tabloids like The Enquirer and mix them with magazines
like Connoisseur, People and a Zagat tour guide and one
begins to grasp the boundaries of Steed's broad behind-the-scenes
vision of his hometown. On Knoxville Tells, Steed checks
off local landmarks, celebrities, and scandals while detailing
bitter losses (the local brewery) and minor personal social failures
(a marriage proposal fails to materialize at the Tennessee-Florida
game when the Vols choke and so does Steed). Steed knows where
the skeletons are buried, even those where he did some of the
shoveling or where he was at least a pallbearer.
This one-horsepower town finally got me down
In a holding pattern kinda like the rings of Saturn
Round and round, spaced up spaced down
Steed may not have any hit records in his voluminous catalog,
but the extensive list of players on Knoxville Tells reads
like a Who's Who of the local music scene and should be seen
as a mark of the respect Steed has in the Knoxville roots music
community -- 'cause I guarantee you the independent sumbitch
didn't pay any of 'em to play nor did they ask for pay. This
is a labor of love in the truest sense of the independent record.
Steed even manages to reassemble Knoxville's legendary ensemble,
The V-Roys, on one track. Other partners in crime include songwriter-poet-playwright
R.B. Morris, French Broads' guitarist/songwriter John Baker,
well-traveled guitarist and professor Hector Qirko, Apelife bassist
Ed Richardson, "Smokin'"
Dave Nichols, indy rock guitarslinger Tim Lee, Judybat/Geisha
Peg Hambright, and Taoist Cowboy Scott Carpenter (Mr. Hambright).
A typical chaotic, anarchic Knoxville production, a catch as
catch can thing, Steed just let the songs evolve as this haphazard
cast passed by his living room and back porch to philosophize,
theorize, smoke dope, drink beer, sip whiskey, and do a bit of
recording if the mood struck. The result is something between
a patchwork quilt and a piece of folk art.
"One night I thought John Baker was coming by to add
some mandolin, but he showed up instead with his dobro. That's
kinda how the whole project came together. It was very Knoxvillean."
Steed says 'Knoxvillean' with all the mystery of 'Machiavellian.'
Beside Steed's humorous satirical bent, the one constant throughout
is Jeff Bills, former V-Roys drummer and now president of Lynn
Point Records -- when he isn't toiling for Knox County. Bills
didn't grow up in Knoxville, but he got there as soon as he could.
The former Swami and Steed are on the same page throughout the
album no matter the musical style. And the album definitely ranges
far and wide stylistically, from the strummy Appalachian acoustic
innocence of "Smokey Mountain Dip" (an ode to camping
out and skinny-dipping) to Zappa-esque pieces (Zappa's presence
is never far beneath the surface in any Steed project) like "The
World's Unfair (Since 1982)" to "Tenncare Buzz,"
which channels Keith Richards' music and personal habits.
Don't eat dope
I don't smoke LSD
I gots an uncle on that disability
He don't work, I ain't sure what he does
I know he's got hisself a Tenncare buzz
I love my Tenncare buzz
Steed has any number of tracks on other projects with his
other bands that have celebrated Knoxville and the city's ability
to withstand rapid change, but his cynical "East Town Mall"
will cut the city fathers to the core -- if they ever hear it.
And "Shutdown State," a rocking commentary on the state's
complete shutdown during a recent budget crisis, is no glowing
testimonial to the powers-that-be ("my kids don't need school
/ as much as these fools / who speak for you and me"). His
takeoff on a bluegrass classic in "New Knoxville Girl"
is a typical Steed exercise in word play, interpolation of musical
ideas, and casual insight that proves both amusing and pointed.
The highlight of the album is a Southern beat R.B. Morris
spoken-word piece with a freeform avant garde jazz score by Steed
that allows Bills plenty of space to show the breadth of his
technique. "Sunrise Over Ft. Sanders" is a hepcat ode
to the hungover bohemian crowd that is the human backdrop for
and daily bread of these musicians' lives.
A quick check around the fort shows everyone survived
But only the very generous definition of survived applies
Still in briefs debriefing begins, the wounded flopping about
Who carried him, who dropped her, who was picked up
Mistakes were made, sir
Steed closes with "The Sounds of This Town," another
innovative folky cacophony notable for its found sounds and deliberate
oddities, like the sound of Scott Miller typing on a manual typewriter,
Randall Brown and John Tilson's "forced conversation,"
Jeff Bull's "organized confusion sample," and Mingus
De La Mancha's "dog tag percussion."
Knoxville Tells is one part artwork extraordinaire,
one part vanity project, one part musical anthropology, one part
kindergarten play time at Steed's house, one part a visit to
the pathologist's office. Some of it is catty, some of it is
biting, but much of it is pleasingly wistful and humanely decent.
In the final analysis, despite its limiting factors (how many
people could find Knoxville on a map in five minutes much less
want to listen to 16 tracks on the subject?), like all of Steed's
recordings, for the serious listener who is searching for something
stimulating, smart, musically poetic, and utterly bohemian in
spirit, Knoxville Tells fills that bill to a Tee. If you
buy it and absorb it, don't be surprised to find yourself humming
"I love my Tenncare buzz" or "Thank God for North
Knoxville" on your way to work one morning, even if you
work in Muncie, Indiana or Spokane, Washington.
www.disgraceland.com
or www.apeville.com
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