1 of 2
Courtesy of Geoff Naunheim and Gabe Karabell
2 of 2
Courtesy of Geoff Naunheim and Gabe Karabell
At present, Geoff Naunheim and Gabe Karabell share one workplace and two bands. That kind of proximity and creative relationship means they probably share a few other influences. Cassette tapes, for example: it’s their preferred method of releasing music.
If not rocking a tapedeck yourself, you can hear their combined interests via a pair of bandcamp pages here and here.
Going deeper with this pair of South City music scene staples, we extended them our every-other-weekly series of seven questions and the pair found some downtime to expand on our queries.
Music school? Self-taught? Some variety of both? Or none of the above?
GK: I took lessons in South City with Robin Allen. Robin is an amazing guitarist and music historian and taught me considerably more than I now remember.
GN: I took some lessons in high school from Todd Mosby. He is a great technical guitarist and helped invent a guitar/sitar hybrid. These days he mostly does eastern and jazz fusion, but he turned me onto noisy punk bands like the Butthole Surfers. At various points in my life, I've studied piano and saxophone, but never really stuck with either. I think I still can find middle C on a keyboard. Maybe play a couple of scales.
Regarding your creative habits, are you a night owl or an early bird?
GN: I think we are both generally early people. In the world of St. Louis music, that translates into practicing at 2 or 3 p.m. instead of 10 or 11. On my own, I get my best work done before noon. Anything after that is just noodling.
GK: We both work at a bar, and between working nights, practice and shows, most of our free time falls during the day. I'm a lunk creatively—I only get song ideas when I'm riding my bike or running.
What are the elements that make for an ideal studio/recording experience?
GN: We have tried a variety of things. Initially, with Wild Hex, we just played around with a four track and a room mic in a little space built into the basement of Gabe's apartment: “The Mold Castle.” It was a little rough. Last time around, we spent three Stag-fueled days with Jason Hutto. Jason's set up is certainly unique, but for our purposes it was perfect. He gets the kind of music we are doing and seems invested in it.
I have recorded a little in studios with nice sound proofing and isolation. It is great for getting a good drum sound, but can be expensive. Since Wild Hex and Bad Dates are mostly working with tape and MP3 format, getting a really crisp, clean tone seems silly. And honestly, we don't sound crisp or clean live. We'd be misrepresenting ourselves. However, if someone wanted to front us the money to make a nice clear recording, I'm sure we wouldn't say “no.”
At this point, we don't really have an ideal recording experience. Trying something new is more enjoyable then revisiting what we've already done.
GK: Jason Hutto has a mad scientist's audio lab—recording with him was ideal in part because he's mastered his technique, but especially because he's a blast to work with.
Is it more rewarding to play a technically solid gig to a moderately engaged audience, or to play a loosey-goosey set to a crowd that's clearly "there" with you?
GK: That's a good question with a variety of answers—if you've seen the Bad Dates, our glam band, it's very clear we believe rock ‘n' roll is noisy, wild music. I'm cringing at the phrase “moderately engaged...” Geoff and I have played our share of shows to audiences with firmly crossed arms. Do you want to go into work and have 30 people glaring at you with their arms folded? It's a lot easier to play well when everyone's having a good time.
GN: It can go both ways. When things go wrong, and they often do, it can kill the momentum. There's nothing worse than breaking a string right at the start of the set, and its frustrating screwing up a song you've been practicing for six months. That being said, it is much easier to “get into it” if the audience is responsive.
You're able to wake up tomorrow, magically gifted proficiency on the instrument of your choice, one that you currently don't play. What instrument would that be?
GN: The drums. Drummers are the most sought-after musicians. There aren't enough of them to go around, and even when they suck, they get asked to play in a million bands. It's also probably the most important instrument in the rock n' roll format. Your band is only as good as its drummer. No one says that about guitar players.
GK: I'd like to be able to play piano like Jerry Lee Lewis.
From childhood on, what's the very first song that you played to a point of real, true satisfaction?
GN: “Fire,” by Jimi Hendrix. I wasn't crazy about Hendrix when I was 14, but my guitar teacher insisted. In retrospect, it was a great song for a beginner. There are a lot of important basic techniques involved in learning that song, like bends and pentatonic scales. Stuff that I wouldn't have picked up just learning to play Minor Threat or Ramones.
GK: I remember the first time I heard my dad's vinyl copy of “Johnny B. Goode.” I never thought I'd be able to learn it. Later, when I went to college, my friend Matt (guitarist of Just Die! and Old Flings) told me that I was the person he'd send people to if they wanted to learn Chuck Berry.
Do you believe there are musical "guilty pleasures," or is this an unfair and misused term?
GN: There are certainly different reasons to enjoy music.
GK: I'm glad that your question assumes the latter—why should you feel guilty about something you like? There's nothing wrong with having bad taste—just own up to it.
