The latest phase of draconian gentrification (that a year
ago banned BBQs by Lake Merritt, for instance) can applaud itself on its latest
casualty: The Creamery Studio on San Pablo Street in Oakland. The live/work studio was given its eviction
notice on May 26, 2015 (in the midst of Oakland’s toothless 90 day
rent-increase moratorium) with only five (5) days to vacate and (hopefully)
relocate (the Memorial Day weekend at that). The new landlord, the ironically
named “Art Music Center, LLC,” cares about the art and music of this city about
as much as the mayor’s “affordable housing” initiatives care about affordable
housing. The future of a new location is uncertain at the very least….
At the Creamery, Greg Ashley has been producing high quality
analog recordings at affordable rates for the last decade, in addition to his
own amazingly prolific and eclectic output under his own name, and as “sideman”
in several other ensembles. Greg’s body of work at the very least goes toe to toe (or
nose to nose) with the work of the legendary 90s indie-rock band I suppose I am
still most known for in music (and even poetry) circles (and as a producer and
advocate of analog recording, he is as distinctive and fun to work with as
Steve Albini). I've worked at more expensive (and more "state of the art") studios, and The Creamery was better than all of them. Greg provided a much-needed service to the community, and was
able to eke out a living as a musician/producer in an era where that is
becoming increasingly impossible (unless one is willing to relocate to LA or
Nashville, and sell one’s soul to the corporate conglomerates).
I’ve always admired the fact that Greg was fiercely loyal to
a local community. When he was an up-and-coming star during the garage/psych
craze circa 2004—2006, and appeared on the cover of local weeklies, he could’ve
done what so many do with that cache:
relocate to LA, but he stayed. I also admire his forward-looking, yet
down-to-earth, creative restlessness. Unlike most who operate in the
commodity-driven “music biz,” Greg does not waste time looking back on his body
of work; as soon as he completes one project, it’s on to the next. Yet, it’s
exceedingly difficult to look forward in times like these; when you put your
life, your sweat and toll in a place being taken away from you, eviction can
enable what some would call an “identity crisis.”
Anyway, last night, as several of his friends and
collaborators took a break from packing Greg’s equipment to sit around and
listen to music for one final bittersweet “wrap party” (if it may be called a
party) before doomsday, it was hard not to be haunted by the ghosts of the
amazing recordings that have been produced here. Without telling us, one of
Greg’s friends decided to put on some of his music. She started with “Black
Rabbit” by Brian Glaze (ex-Brian Jonestown Massacre), one of the first
recordings Greg made here back in 2006, on which I played piano. Regardless of
my own bit part in the creation of this song, I found myself haunted by its
beauty, and sunk into my “own head,” and tears began to flow. I finally got it
together enough to say, “this is my favorite Brian Glaze song,” and Jess
Hartlaub (who had put it on) said, “mine too.” I was surprised she even knew that song, since after releasing
those albums on Birdman, Brian has largely dropped out of the scene. (link to the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-r5kiZnpQdg
But I thought back to those days—circa 2004-2008—when Brian
was around, and I remember when he was interviewed on the, alas, too
short-lived Open Source Radio Station,
KYCY 1510-AM as they played this song. It was the first time I had ever
heard my own playing on AM radio (as opposed to FM college radio), and I
realized how Greg’s productions sound even better on AM radio than on FM radio.
Glaze’s “Black Rabbit” was one of the first songs I recorded
with Greg. Between 2006 and 2011, I sessioned on many more: though I got to
work with some of the more famous acts Greg brought in (King Khan, Christian
Bland of The Black Angels, Kimberly Morrison of The Duchess and The Duke), I am
even more proud of the work we did by lesser-known women-lead acts such as Flowers
and Bulls, Babycakes and the upcoming Janaysa Bonet Lambert. Hell, we even got
to record some of my own “studio experiments” that I suppose could be called
“original compositions.”
Greg is a great collaborator, and would often play several
instruments on the songs he recorded and produced. When he decided to record a
cover of Leonard Cohen’s Death Of A
Lady’s Man album, I favorably contrasted his production work with
Spector’s. Spector’s got his “wall of sound,” but Greg trimmed the fat and
created a painted garden of sound.
Yet aside from the professional accolades and “kudos” I
could make about Greg’s work (on Linked In, perhaps? It would take many more
pages to do justice to in writing), I also must thank him and the Creamery
Studio on a very personal level. He was always there for me. He may not even
know it, but he helped me regain a sense of creative purpose during a very
difficult time in my life after I had become a cripple and the (white) poetic
publishing establishment had largely abandoned my work for crossing a dangerous
line into anti-elitism. Greg made me feel more at home in the recording studio
in ways that almost made up for the fact that I couldn’t dance anymore, and
performing live with bands became more difficult. I am eternally grateful for
Greg Ashley’s faith in me as a session musician and collaborator…..even if-- thanks
to greedy music-hating landlords, we don’t get to record again.
The future is uncertain….and Greg may leave us (“to liberty
not banishment”—Shakespeare might say)—to return to his native Texas (“the
friendliest people that I’ve ever seen” as Jerry Jeff Walker might sing). If
so, it will be their gain, and hopefully they’ll treat him better than Oakland
did. But whether The New Oakland knows it or not, it is our loss. Unless, of
course, you believe that expensive restaurants are ushering in an arts
renaissance in this town that more than makes up for the galleries, performance
spaces and live/work places being driven out.
Chris Stroffolino, 5-28-16