When David Lynch was filming his epic adaptation of Frank Herbert’s 1965 science fiction novel Dune, he ran into a snag. The director needed a convincing stand-in for the baliset, the fantastical, futuristic instrument played by troubadour-warrior Gurney Halleck (portrayed by Patrick Stewart). Although the scene in question would ultimately be cut from the theatrical release, during its production the filmmaker eventually found the perfect prop for his out-of-this-world opus: the Chapman Stick.
Invented in 1974 by jazz guitarist Emmett Chapman, the Stick, as it’s also known, comes in 8-, 10-, and 12-string models and looks like the disembodied neck of an oversized guitar. Worn almost vertically in front of its player’s upper body with a shoulder strap and belt hook, the odd contraption appears to hover magically before the musician. But perhaps even more surreal than the sight of someone playing a Stick are the sounds it produces. With its parallel sets of low- and high-register strings, the instrument is played by tapping on its fretboard with the fingers of both hands, making it more comparable to a keyboard than a guitar. This method, together with its stereo amplifier setup and its players’ frequent use of chorus, delay, and other effects, allows for a much wider range of rhythmic and tonal possibilities than those offered by a conventional stringed instrument. The arrangement also lends itself to playing multiple lines at once, and many players, or Stickists, have perfected the technique of performing bass, octave, and melody lines simultaneously.
One of the Stick’s earliest converts—and arguably its most recognized avatar—is Kingston’s Tony Levin. Also a legend on the bass guitar, Levin has performed on over 500 albums by the likes of John Lennon, Paul Simon, Lou Reed, Cher, Pink Floyd, Yes, Buddy Rich, and Alice Cooper. But as a Stickist, he’s most revered for his groundbreaking work with Peter Gabriel and prog-rock juggernaut King Crimson during the 1980s, when he brought his furiously popping and highly timbral lines to bear on such top sellers as the former’s So (1986, Geffen Records) and the latter’s Discipline (1981, Editions EG). Besides the luminaries he’s worked with, one of Levin’s biggest fans is none other than Emmett Chapman himself. “Tony’s really taken the Stick in some unusual directions over the years,” says Chapman. “His playing definitely has a lot of thrills and chills, there’s a lot of a high-speed stuff.”
Based on the above resume, one could safely—and correctly—assume that Levin’s career itself has been filled with thrilling and speedy episodes. Born in Boston in 1946, he started learning upright bass at age 10 and was later in a local youth orchestra that performed at the White House for President John F. Kennedy. After studying at the Eastman School of Music and playing in the Rochester Philharmonic, he began to move away from classical styles to jazz and rock, a shift that in 1970 took him to New York to join keyboardist Don Preston’s band Aha! (no relation to the similary named ’80s synth-pop act A-ha). Quickly ensconcing himself in Manhattan’s busy studio scene, Levin became a much-in-demand session bassist and, after he’d played on Gabriel’s 1977 solo debut, the ex-Genesis singer tapped him for his touring band. It was during his early years with Gabriel that Levin began his ongoing and fruitful relationship with the Stick.
“I had heard that the Chapman Stick was an unusual-sounding instrument with bass capabilities,” says Levin via e-mail during a recent Japanese tour with jazz-rock outfit L’Image. “So I was attracted to the idea right way. And its tapping technique was one I had used on bass, so I wasn’t too out of my element when I first picked it up.” In 1979 Levin appeared on Robert Fripp’s Exposure (Editions EG), which led to the guitarist’s inviting him to join the newly reincarnated King Crimson, a unit he would serve with for over 20 years. Levin had settled in the Hudson Valley the year before Exposure’s release, living in Woodstock for several years before finally moving to Kingston. “[The region has] a nice community of players, plenty of jamming opportunities,” he says. “There are fewer clubs to play in nowadays, but it’s still a great area to live in.”
Another musician—and also one of the rare Stick-playing variety, coincidentally—who was lured to the Catskills is 35-year-old ex-Long Islander Michael Bernier, who had spent time in the area as a child thanks to his father’s managing of world music ensemble Futu Futu and other locally popular groups. Bernier, who arrived in 1998, was classically trained on violin and cello before he began concentrating on drums; he also plays guitar, bass, and piano. “About five years ago I was over at [Woodstock bassist and luthier] Martin Keith’s place, and there was this Chapman Stick, just sitting there,” Bernier remembers. “He wasn’t doing anything with it, so I asked if I could borrow it, just to check it out. Being a drummer, I guess I was also attracted to the Stick because it’s played very percussively, it’s not picked or plucked like a guitar or bass is. Later on, after I’d been playing it for a while and was starting to get pretty good on it, Martin told me, ‘Man, just keep it.’” Under the name Fugue, Bernier began playing with a small band and recorded an instrumental CD on which he performed all the parts. While working a day job at an uptown Kingston restaurant, he sold copies of the homemade disc from a modest display next to the cash register. One customer who bought the album turned out to be Levin, who went to see Fugue play soon after hearing the recording.
“We were playing a gig at the Arts Society of Kingston and I look out and there’s Tony sitting there, which was pretty intimidating, to say the least,” says Bernier. “So I played the set, you know, really nervously, and afterward he came up to me and said that he wanted to ask about lessons. Since Tony is one of my heroes, I was excited that he thought I had potential and of course I said that I’d love take some lessons from him. But then he said, ‘No, I don’t think you understand—I want to take lessons from you.’”
Hold on. Tony Levin, the world’s leading Stick player, the man who pretty much introduced the instrument to popular music, was asking a musician nearly 30 years his junior—and one who had then been playing one for barely two years—to teach him? “Michael has a number of techniques on the Stick that are unique to him,” Levin says. “It was his musicality that first attracted me to his playing, but I wanted to hook up with him to get some tips on how he was getting various sounds.” Bernier mentions that his use of a bow was also something that Levin found intriguing and wanted to learn more about, so the two swapped numbers and were soon meeting regularly to exchange ideas and to jam.
“One day after we’d been playing for a while Tony said, ‘Hey, this sounds almost like a whole band, we just need a drummer. I bet Pat [Mastelloto, King Crimson drummer] would do it!’” recounts Bernier. Levin put in a call to the Texas-based Mastelloto, and before long the three were recording their debut album in Kingston. “Pat and Tony work so fast in the studio,” Bernier says. “It’s just amazing to watch as they catch one new idea after another and work them into the tunes.” The process is amazing to hear, as well, as the release’s intial tracks loudly attest; “Hands” and “Voodoo,” to cite two, are rapid-fire, supremely heavy sonic hailstorms, flurries of busy notes and impossibly funky polyrhythms. Put your head in this threesome’s maelstrom at your own risk—their brand of quickness might just tear it clean off.
The trio’s live premiere was also swift in coming, as Bernier learned when Levin suggested they put a carrot on the end of the, er, stick, by booking a European tour just months after the group’s formation. Using a scheduled appearance at last October’s National Percussion Festival in Poland as an anchor date, the band set up a handful of overseas gigs, along with shows in Woodstock, Kingston, and elsewhere on the East Coast. “[The tour was] great fun, and a thrill in exposing audiences to some music they hadn’t imagined,” Levin says. “We not only have an unusual lineup of instruments, but we also play very hard-edged music, and some compositions go into territories not normally explored. And [Mastelotto’s] electronic drums, in addition to his acoustic kit, give him some wild loops and sounds.”
Despite Levin’s and Mastelloto’s reputation for fleet musicianship, however, Bernier maintains that for him Stick Men’s music isn’t just about speedy prog-rock chops. “I’ve always loved King Crimson, but I’ve never really liked prog in general—I don’t like Rush, Yes, that stuff. Too noodley,” he explains. Although in high school bands he flirted with overly complex styles, which he somewhat derisively refers to as “mathletics,” Bernier found greater inspiration in psychedlic-tinged, so-called shoegazer acts like ’80s college radio staples Lush and My Bloody Valentine. “The shoegazey stuff is much more evocative, I think. [Stick Men] can and does play some pretty technical stuff, but we try to stay away from just noodling. I think that just bores and alienates people.”
Much like the band’s blindlingly fast riffs, Stick Men’s itinerary continues to accelerate, with more European shows in the cards for November and a special tour-only version of the trio’s self-titled debut dropping on Levin’s Papabear label that month (the US edition features a different track listing and is set for release in March), and a January tour with UK neo-prog outfit Porcupine Tree. And since things are just heating up, no doubt there’s even more on the way to talk about.
“Normally there would be,” Levin says from Tokyo. “But I have to catch the bullet train in 15 minutes.”
Stick Men appears in a special tour-only version on Papabear Records in November.
www.myspace.com/stickmensounds.
This article appears in October 2009.
