At any given moment, numerous Berklee students are spending time online on social networking sites counting friends we may or may not know, spying on our ex’s, and doing quizzes that seek to define what residual humanity we have left in this digital generation.

MySpace started the damage for me. When I got tired of fake beautiful women spamming me, I ‘grew up’ and started using Facebook to maintain my connections. After several upgrades, Facebook finally settled on a format that delivers not just to the college kids it was initially meant for, but to the general public—and advertisers.

These sites started a revolution in the way people make resumes, interact, and even date. But what makes us choose where to congregate? It’s only natural for each group of people to want to find a unique place to exchange ideas, get to know each other, and build personality. All of my friends in elementary school hung out at the skating rink every week, and each clique in high school designated an area on campus to eat lunch every day for four years; with the internet opening up a whole world of information to our fingertips, MySpace is our skating rink and Facebook is our lunchtime pow-wow. But which site will be the next bar where everyone knows our name? I guess it depends on what we are looking for in these websites.

Recently, the Groove office was visited by the creator of a brand spanking–new networking site: Corkizon. The Berklee alumnus wanted to pitch his idea to his alma mater. I dutifully set up an account and spent a couple of weeks using the site to compare it to the more established social networks. Corkizon aims to be a network for talented individuals including musicians, artists, filmmakers and even athletes. According to the site’s credo, it is “a resource to share your talent with the world around you. A place to showcase your work and be discovered by it. Instead of focusing entirely on the content, we showcase the creator of the content”. They continue, “The Internet today is growing unimaginably with new users from around the world publishing content each second of the day [...] Corkizon focuses on the person behind the content, and allows that person to show their products and talents to the world. We’re showcasing people and connecting them via their talents”.

While this is a noble goal, it sounds a bit like a place where I set up shop not too long ago: Berkleemusic.com. Berkleemusic.com is a site where all Berklee kids, teachers, and alumni can hang out, trade ideas and find work. I like the site a lot, not only because it’s sponsored by my school, but because there my accolades are working toward something other than online popularity. Facebook keeps track of all the loved ones I left behind. Twitter lets the world know every inconsistent thought to cross my mind. And MySpace—well,  MySpace still exists for something, I guess. So what does Corkizon bring to the table? What could it possibly give to the world that all these sites don’t already cover?

Upon setting up my account I noticed the similarities to the sites that inspired Corkizon. The home page shows a user’s clients at the bottom, much like Berkleemusic.com, and the notifications tool bar is ripped right from the front page of Facebook. Corkizon has some unique features as well, such as profiles that are customizable in a limited way. Instead of apps, games, and banners, Corkizon focuses on professionals and cuts to the chase with biography, broadcast information, and personal information among the optional widgets for your page. Each profile can also be rated, but I am still trying to decide whether that is a good thing or a bad thing for artists. These aren’t iTunes songs, they’re online representations of real people with real dreams; would you want your talents to be given two out of five stars? However, I did find one button very cool, the donation button. In true musician fashion, you can set up a PayPal account and people can donate money directly to your cause with a click of the mouse.

After spending some time on the site, I am still a bit indifferent to this budding social network. It has all the necessary tools to portray professional information well, with enough extras to keep users interested. The key to this type of website is gaining attention and finding enough users to make the site useful. Facebook reeled in the college kids; MySpace put media in your face; Livejournal connected people through deep intellectual thoughts and feelings; Berkleemusic.com aired our musical abilities. What will Corkizon do for you? The beautiful part about this website is that it is just beginning. It has seen the capabilities and setbacks of previously popular sites and strives to bring some elegance to the table. But the website can’t do it alone; it needs your participation to add spice to the mix. Corkizon is currently open to students and alumni of Berklee, Emerson, and Full Sail University, so head over and create an account. I don’t know if Corkizon will be the next Facebook, but you might end up a part of the next big thing in social networking online. It’s worth a shot to see what they have to offer and support a Berklee graduate, and we musicians can always use a little more exposure.

Corkizon.com

By Jehad Choate
Staff Writer

“I don’t play the bass, I play music”

Victor Wooten is a household name to anyone who even knows what a bass might be. On Thursday July 1, Mr. Wooten presented a clinic at Daddy’s Junky Music across from Berklee. As a guitarist, it’s normally not in my interest to visit a clinic and listen to crazy slap solos for an hour, but I did it anyway because of Victor Wooten’s book “The Music Lesson.” My roommate showed me this book last year when I was suffering from an imbalance in my life. I am a self-taught musician who played brass in high school band as I tried to find my niche, but it was not until I learned how to express myself through guitar that I became a real musician in my own eyes. When I got to Berklee, I constantly battled with the separation between the emotional connection to what I play and the technical crap I am forced to cover in proficiencies and labs. Victor’s book saved my life. It covered concepts in music that few teachers ever really emphasize. His clinic yesterday afternoon was a physical representation of all the inspiring lessons he taught me through his book.

The first fifteen minutes of his clinic involved an amazing display of musical prowess on Mr. Wooten’s behalf. He got up there by himself and managed to manipulate his bass to sound like an orchestra of instruments. There were points when I couldn’t even tell the difference between him and a string quartet. When he finished, he mentioned his sponsorship with Hartke and then the lesson began. Victor told us that coming to this clinic was a great opportunity for all musicians to grow, and that he would be covering ideas that the audience and our teachers may not agree with. He encouraged us to treat his lessons like a spice to be added into the mix.”

The first thing he talked about was the definition of music, which he happily  called a language.  “I don’t play the bass, I play music,” he said as he pointed a microphone to his bass. He laughed, “I don’t hear any music coming from this!” He conveyed that music is something that begins inside the musician. It is emotional, and it plays with the tension and release of how we feel in one moment in time. The instrument is a tool to help get this idea across. He expressed the irony in the differences between how people learn languages and how they learn music. When learning to speak no one is told what is right and wrong or called a beginner, and by age two most people know how to speak. Yet when musicians begin to learn music, it is taught in a completely different manner, which in Mr. Wooten’s opinion is why some musicians take ten or twenty years to feel as though they are getting anything right.

Photo: Victor Paugh

Victor showed us how to speak through our instruments with full awareness of space and dynamics, without ever once stating that he was right or that this was the only way to go about doing anything. He expressed the power of confidence and groove and how both guide even the most wrong notes a person can play into sounding right. When one observer asked him for advice on improvising, the only scale he mentioned for us to learn was the chromatic scale. Then he proved how groove could emphasize a solo by playing a sick solo while avoiding the chord tones. It sounded right! He even rode a non–chord tone on a strong beat, and the groove he played made it feel natural.

The best part of the clinic was Mr. Wooten’s willingness to ask questions to the audience, because he believed that this was a moment when both the student and the teacher could learn from each other. He had a couple people play for him while he sat in the crowd and observed, and welcomed any conflicting ideas people had with his concepts. I didn’t need to be a bass player to take what had to say to heart.

Unfortunately, I had to leave early to go to my private lesson that day. Upon entering my teacher’s classroom, I had a great sense of confidence in what I played. It wasn’t because I practice an hour a day every day, because I don’t. It wasn’t because I got to see Victor Wooten tear up an intense version of “Norwegian Wood”. It was because for that hour and a half, in that small local music store, I was reminded of why I play. Everything we ever needed to know is already inside us; rather than teaching us how to play, he was showing us what we tend to forget when we get wrapped up in the less expressive moments of our musical lives. My teacher told me I played better after attending the clinic than I had in the previous four semesters he’s had with me. Thanks Victor.

by Zac Taylor (‘10)
Contributing Writer

If you stroll by Wally’s on Massachusetts Avenue and hear original music coming out of the doorway instead of “Giant Steps”, you might be lucky enough to hear the jazzy-cool stylings of Rachel Borovik. Borovik, who released her debut record last month at this world-renowned jazz club, is part 50’s lounge singer and part R&B radio starlet, with some neo-soul to wash it down.

Untangled, Rachel Borovik’s first full-length offering to the world, is a strong album. On the surface it harkens back to the female songstresses of the 90s like Linda Perry, Joan Osborne, or even early Sheryl Crow with feel-good hooks and poise. But when you listen a little closer, a modern jazz nouveau edge is revealed, not unlike Corinne Bailey Rae or Alicia Keys.

The beef of the instrumentation comes from Tom Kain’s tasteful keys, Rhodes, and organ playing. He leaves space, embellishes the dynamic with subtle textures, and knows when to let it all hang out. Mark Hadley’s guitar playing follows suit. His picking and strumming are always in service of the songs, but he lets it rip when necessary, adding a nasty solo to “Unsatisfied.” Meanwhile, bassist Bryan Percivall and drummer Ricardo White lay down grooves that would make both Norah Jones and Prince quite pleased.

Riding on top of the solid instrumentals, Rachel’s voice is the face of the sound. She’s not afraid to lay down some old school scatting, such as in the opening bars of “Middle Ground.”

The album’s standout track is “How To Be A Woman.” The vocals shine as the age-old story of Adam and Eve is funked out and re-harmonized to the ear’s delight.

Untangled came to life at Flying Dutchman Studio. The production has a touch of edgy R&B flavor, which comes as no surprise, as it was produced by Owen Ross of Re-Up. Mixed by Berklee faculty Rich Mendelson and mastered by former Berklee professor Tom Carr, the sound has a radio-ready sheen that is crucial for a young artist starting out.

“My plans for future are to be able to support myself doing what I love most: connecting with others through music,” Borovik says. “I am open to wherever being able to do that takes me.”

At 20 years old, Rachel Borovik is taking her music very seriously; you should too.

For more on Rachel Borovik and her upcoming shows, visit her website: www.myspace.com/rachelboro. Catch her Friday July 2 at Cafe Luna, Cambridge.

by Zac Taylor (‘10)
Contributing Writer

Jared Salvatore Band,  The Neighbors

Hard Rock Café, Boston

May 14, 2010

On a Friday night in Faneuil Hall, past all the tough-guy jock bars and Red Sox fanatics, there was some artful rock and roll happening at the Hard Rock Café. Recent Berklee graduate Jared Salvatore and his band took the stage in front of a three-quarters full room and attained the timbre and richness of a fully-produced pop production. You have to credit the sound guy to some extent, but this band was tight.

Sporting white-rimmed shades and a tie, Salvatore and co. got the crowd moving with pop gems like “Designer Girl” and “Crash Test.” Mark Johnson added tasteful Telecaster textures, while bassist Dave Huddleston and drummer Ben Atkind kept the grooves solid and tight.  A nasty cover of “Use Me” by Bill Withers was a highlight of the set, but Salvatore’s sharp, clever tunes stole the show.

The Neighbors followed Salvatore with their signature mix of Green-Day-meets-Mars-Volta smart rock. Actual neighbors they are anything but; Rossiter lives in New York City while Cadrin and Crepeault reside in the Bay State. The trio nevertheless sparkles with undeniable musicianship and chemistry. Lead singer/guitarist Tom Cadrin seemingly juggles rhythm and lead guitar parts simultaneously, supported by Berklee alumnus Alex Rossiter on bass and David Crepeault on drums. They brought up Myles Reeves to help them out with an N.E.R.D. cover and kept the energy high throughout the set. The Neighbors are currently recording their new EP Nothing is Hidden at Zing Studios to be released this fall.

Jared Salvatore

The Neighbors

By Andrew Slotnick
Managing Editor

Kevin Harris Project

CD Release Show: Chapters

Scullers Jazz Club

May 12, 2010 8:00 p.m.

Performers: Kevin Harris, Kendall Eddy, Steve Langone, Rick DiMuzio

The Kevin Harris Project carried a full room on a bumpy ride through exciting, emotional, and technically challenging music at Scullers Wednesday night to celebrate the release of Chapters. The set opened with solo stride piano by bandleader Kevin Harris, an educator and performer with a master’s degree in jazz performance from New England Conservatory. Steve Langone added hand percussion to the mix as he took his place at the drums for a lively vamp before bassist Kendall Eddy increased the group to a trio. Following Harris’ smiling and laughing lead the three musicians performed “Rumba for Mary Ann”, which weaved its way between time signatures and referenced the standard “A-Train” before slowing to a stop. Rick DiMuzio left his spot offstage to round out the quartet on tenor saxophone, and the four played their first simultaneous notes in “Buy  Ya Books”.

Throughout the night Mr. Harris looked at home on the piano and exhibited the joy of a musician in his element. DiMuzio had a dark tone and monstrous chops that he used sparingly, focusing on melody and floating above the busy world of the rhythm section. Standing taller than his upright bass’ headstock, Kendall Eddy held down the time flawlessly despite both planned and improvised groove and feel changes, leaving plenty of room for the drummer to play melodically. Langone controlled the group’s dynamics with brushes and a beater for ballads and explosive hits during louder tunes.

Despite a tremendous amount of creative energy and technical ability, the band rarely settled into the pocket; ballads had consistent time-feel but the faster songs were not very straight-ahead. When given the chance, however, the band grooved tightly.

Kevin Harris communicated with the audience continually and displayed an easygoing, friendly, and sincere manner between songs. Shout-outs to family and friends in attendance and tributes to Harris’ aunt and mother revealed a sentimental side to his character and playing.

The set finished with strong tunes: an uptempo rendition of John Coltrane’s “Countdown” with a simmering bass intro, followed by a mind-boggling playthrough of “Moose the Mooche” with five beats per measure instead of four. Harris announced his last song by suggesting the “formalities” of an encore be skipped and launched into “Freedom Doxology”, a display of raw emotion by saxophone and piano. After an appreciative round of applause the band left the stage and Harris stopped to shake hands with an enthusiastic youngster. The musicians remained accessible to audience members after the show before preparing for their second performance at 10:00 p.m.

The Kevin Harris Project will be performing again at the Cambridge River Festival June 5 from 2:00 to 3:00 p.m. 

Chapters was released May 12, 2010. It can be purchased through Itunes and Nimbit.

Chapters Track Listing:
1. “Nellie Jones (My Grandmother)”
2. “The Americas”
3. “Rumba for Mary Ann”
4. “Trinkle Tinkle”
5. “Happy Tears”
6. “Moose the Mooche”
7. “Countdown”
8.” Childhood”
9. “Buy Ya Books”
10. “Journeys End ”

Kevin Harris’ Homepage
Scullers Jazz Club

By Zac Taylor
Managing Editor

Photo by Conor Doherty.

You hear her voice and you go: man! You see her photo and you go: huh? It’s a common occurrence for Merrily James , a slender girl with a gigantic voice, who could give Jill Scott a run for her money.

Produced by Darren McGrath, the soulful tunes on Words for Everything are supported by an all-star cast of musicians:  Jake Cohen on drums and Claire Finley on bass laying down dynamic grooves; Randy Runyon on guitar, Dane Farnsworth on keys providing tasty R&B-infused textures; and a host of horns, strings, and backup singers that give all of the songs a lovely listenability.

Perhaps the most easily accessible of the six tunes, “Braver than Blue” could easily be a track on the next Joss Stone CD, minus the accent. A childlike glockenspiel bounces on top of a smoky Wurlitzer as James comes in, “Remember that time we kissed on your front steps?” The chorus explodes with horns and “ahhs” that bury into your brain upon first listen.

In “Street with No Name” a tasteful piano welds together with a heart-rendering string section make certain lyrics like “So you take your faith and you throw it out on the wet ground/Just when you think that love’s keeping you warm, it burns you alive” hit you right in the kisser.

The record takes a bluesy turn on the next track, “Long, Long time.” Saucy organ licks and rhythmic feel changes between the verse and chorus show that James has been taking her gospel vitamins and listening to plenty of Ray Charles; it also illustrates that her songwriting is easily as impressive and mature as her powerful voice.

You can hear James belt it out this Friday night at the Agganis Area for Berklee’s Commencement. 

By Ann Driscoll
Associate Editor

If you wanted to create an indie rock darling in a cynical laboratory, your Frankenstein creation would have cool beards, lots of reverb, gimmicky instrumentation, and mediocre songs. It’d probably have the word “bear” “rabbit” or “fox” in the band name. Heck, just call it Frankenstein Bear.

Zac Taylor is the antidote to indie-rock’s substantive bankruptcy. A clean-cut Georgia boy, his debut LP, Salesman is straightforward guitar-driven pop/rock. No cut corners. Just expertly written songs with simple, effective production courtesy of Ben Gebert (one half of NINI+BEN). This is a record for people craving meat-and-potatoes rock: great melodies, witty lyrics, chord progressions that take unexpected but logical turns.

Taylor’s music is steeped in great music from the past but not as a gimmicky stylistic pastiche. The pop music vernacular in which he writes just so happens to be mainstream and accessible, as pioneered and perfected by idols like The Beatles, Nirvana, and Ryan Adams.

Throughout, Taylor remains his own man. “Cold Light of Day” demonstrates a unique melodic sensibility during the verses as well as a passionate vocal performance from Taylor, who has increasingly come into his own as a vocalist.

Taylor’s lyrics boldly explore his own rock star ambitions. On opener, “Know My Name” acknowledges the blue collar humdrum of struggling to make it in the ‘biz. “I guess this means that I won’t get a severance check/I’ll have to go/Take out some loans and drill my bones for marrow just to pay my rent.” The chorus then gives way to optimism, “When I leave this place/Everyone here will know my name.”

In the vividly imagined and somewhat theatrical world of Salesman, rents are expensive, blue jeans are tight, and casual sex has replaced real romance. “If she can hear my catcall/Through a foot of drywall/I might not end up sleeping on the floor,” he croons on charming ditty, “Spend the Night with Hannah.” Taylor lets his theatrical imagination run wild in “The Getaway” – a Bonnie and Clyde tale about bank robbery with a Hall & Oates groove.

At times, Salesman a bit oversells Taylor’s sense of his own iconography as a rock musician. On “NYC ASAP,” he whispers “Fast love/Fast life/Fast money” over 80’s-sounding sexy guitar swells as if he were the protagonist of a Bret Easton Ellis novel. On tracks like “Sleeping in the Car” Taylor’s self-deprecating humor deflates the pseudo-glamor of his subject matter.

The standout track, “Go If You Must” is a boppy tune that sounds a bit like Elliott Smith on Prozac.  It’s also one of the few songs that showcase Taylor’s emotional vulnerability. He’s singing from the heart, and that’s something worth selling and buying.

The CD Release Show is this Thursday night at Cafe 939. Kris Roche and Nini+Ben open. Everyone in attendance will get a free copy of Salesman.

My Fake Funeral performing at SXSW in Austin, TX.

By Zac Taylor
Managing Editor

Heavy Rotations’ number one zombie flick aficionado has dropped her name in favor of a more fitting, group-oriented moniker. Ann Driscoll has renamed her solo project My Fake Funeral, derived from the name of a one-act musical theater piece she penned last year. The band still features the same cast of topnotch musicians: Bruno Esrubilsky on drums, Dabbo Caucci on bass, and Justin Hancock on guitar.

MFF broke in their new name last Saturday, April 17 at Church. The crowd danced and sang along with Driscoll and the boys; imagine In Utero-era Nirvana fronted by Fiona Apple with an orange Grestch guitar. The quartet is still tight from a number of SXSW showcases, and are currently compiling material for a record sometime this summer.

Also the front person for all-girl dance rock band Mrs. Danvers, Driscoll’s catalog continues to define itself as dark and edgy content juxtaposed with super-catchy melodies and highly sing-along-able choruses; the tunes “I Wanna Be Your Zombie” and “I Wanna Believe You” perhaps exemplify this delightful contradiction.

You can catch My Fake Funeral this Sunday, May 2 on the roof of 173 Newbury Street at 2pm. Check them out at myspace.com/myfakefuneral.