badlandspdx:

Badlands is please to announce our spring artist-in-residence: John Glouchevitch, who arrived at the beginning of April with his guitars and a handful of songs. In 2011 he self-released two EPs of bedroom recordings which he shared with friends and family, and has come to Portland for two…

I’m producing John’s album. It’s going to be fucking beautiful.

I’ve been bad about updating my Tumblr. Which is unfortunate considering how much awesome stuff has happened for Hip Hatchet in the past month. 

The most notable news is the release of the single ”Sing me a Reprise.” I wrote this guitar part while I was on the road in the winter of 2010-2011. I drove to Portland from New Jersey by myself in late January and the early part of February. Because of the snow and the cold, harsh conditions of the northern United States, I opted to take the southern route on my Journey. My trajectory was Jersey > North Carolina > Atlanta > New Orleans > Austin > LA > SF > Portland.

Everyone I stayed with was super hospitable and showed me a great time, but New Orleans takes the cake for debauchery. After one particularly vicious night with some old friends (who’s exploits and tales make recurring appearances on the album) I remember sitting in my friend David’s house with my guitar on an uncharacteristically cold morning. Hungover, exhausted, and running out of money, I remember asking my friend (also named David) to listen to a new guitar part I’d been working on. It was what would eventually become “Sing me a Reprise.” David liked the guitar part, and said “I can’t wait to hear the words.”

The words for “Sing me a Reprise” are my homage to transition. Topically it seems like a song about losing love…which it is. But it’s much more about relocation, the association of place with certain people, and surrendering the locations where some of the most significant events in my life happened. It’s a sad song. But change is a good thing, and while the tone is somber, the intention is optimistic. 

The full record will be available on April 10th. It’s an immensely personal work and I’m super excited to share it with all of you. Full album art and track listing below.

It’s always nice to see documentation of a performance surface long after it’s happened. It brings back memories, images, smells, and emotions that are hard to retain over a long period of time. Steven from Kitchen Sessions was kind enough to make these quality recordings of the first ever Brewery Sessions.

Also, I know that everyone hates the way that they sound when they talk, but I feel like i should apologize for sounding like such a goober. I’ll just stick to singing from now on.

Philippe Bronchtein - Misdirected Man from Kitchen Sessions on Vimeo.

Untitled from Kitchen Sessions on Vimeo.

thatonesongimh:

Hip Hatchet - Coward’s Luck

We released this single today. The quick and positive response has been very touching. Just wanted to thank tim, alex, and jake, for working so swiftly on this project. I literally decided to record this EP this week and they cleared their schedules and made it happen with me. Hopefully y’all will like the two other tracks tomorrow as well.

Hip Hatchet Coward’s Luck from Hip Hatchet on Vimeo.

bser:

These two weeks ruled so hard, can’t believe it’s over.

badlandspdx:

A few images from Ben Seretan’s two weeks at Badlands. Most of them are from Ben’s iPhone and a few are from Alex’s camera. It was an amazing time for music, friendship, food, drink, and karaoke.  

We can’t wait to show everyone the music we made together. 

There is a big difference between playing through amplification and sitting in a living room with acoustic guitars. In recent shows, Alex and I have been playing our acoustic guitars through our amps. This decision mainly stems from the kind of shows we’ve been able to book, opening slots for louder acts. In an effort to pull our weight in medium sized rooms (often times fairly empty) the amplifiers make it easier to pack a punch.

Here’s the thing. I didn’t start writing folk songs so i could fill rock clubs with amplified acoustic guitars. Frankly, I have no interest in playing live with a traditional backing band, and the recent shows have felt like I’ve had each foot in separate worlds.

Last night, Alex and I played at a living room in Southeast Portland supporting Ryan Sollee from The Builders and the Butchers. No amps, no microphones. This show epitomized what I love about writing songs. Writing a song is an intimate act, and performing a song is the most direct way to share that intimacy. Without any amplification to hide behind I felt like I was able to share the songs the way I intended to share them. Raw seems like a cheap word to use, but it felt more honest than any show we’ve done in recent memory. No bullshit, no contrived banter, no amps, just songs.

Ryan’s set was a nice reminder of why songwriting is really the foundation of any band. The Builders and the Butchers are known for their bombastic ballads, raucous live show, and lyrics that could be lifted from a scene in a Cormac McCarthy novel. Strip away everything except the chords and the words, and the songs suddenly resonated in a new way. Not better or worse, just simpler. The song as a craft pushed to the forefront and all of a sudden my connection to the songs became more immediate.

It’s that immediacy that I’m passionate about. Living room venues are such an amazing place to share songs; the direct connection that they facilitate isn’t found anywhere else. I want to thank Stirling Myles at the Christmas Horse for organizing a night that reminded me why this songwriting thing is important to me in the first place.

Alex and I have known each other a long time. This is a photo that my good friend David Parker took of us while we were day drinking at a bar in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle.

I hate having my picture taken in informal settings. i get very self conscious and fidgety.

Since we were about fifteen years old, Alex and I would talk about playing music together in the Pacific Northwest. Senior year of high school, we regularly skipped class, played NHL 2k6, and made a half-hearted promises to each other about playing shows in Seattle and Portland.

About a month ago we played our first show in Seattle at the sky lark cafe. Being an acoustic duo opening for two rock bands is never an easy task, but it ended up being a pretty damn good time. The sound was good and so was the burger. In my book that’s a successful night.

David sent Alex the picture a few days ago. I saw it and was overcome with a sense of nostalgia and accomplishment. For me this picture is a reminder of where I came from, where I am now, and with whom I’ve traveled the in between. Alex kind of twisted my arm into taking this picture, but i couldn’t be happier that he did.