KULAS

Ex-James singer and songwriter returns to T.O. with second solo album

Betsy Powell - Entertainment Reporter

Five years ago, Michael Kulas left Toronto to join U.K. rock outfit James, touring the world and mixing with some of his biggest rock 'n' roll heroes including Brian Eno, Sinead O'Connor, and Elvis Costello.

And then, late last year, James' singer Tim Booth bowed out, preferring to leave on a high note rather than let the seven-piece outfit "degenerate into an act that's alive to maintain contractual obligations," explains Kulas.

Now, on the heels of a sold-out farewell arena tour in the U.K., the guitarist, singer/songwriter resurfaces in Toronto with his second solo record, Another Small Machine, a self-produced collection of tuneful pop recorded in a seaside cabin in Scotland and released on his own imprint, Interloper.

The title came to him "sitting in the middle of nowhere recording," begins Kulas, who plays Rancho Relaxo (1:00 a.m.) on Saturday night as one of NXNE's closing acts. "I started thinking about my little project, a tiny little machine within the bigger structure which is James and the pop music industry."

Wait a minute. Where's the rock-star attitude one might expect from someone who has played to tens of thousands of people — even if it's true, as he suggests, that a raging ego ("if you catch me on the right day") lurks.

Perhaps, but he still laughs at the uncertainty the "breather" has presented.

"Returning to Canada meant leaving a large part of my life in Britain," he says. "But it was also, after five years, important to return and reconnect with the city I know best in the world."

Clearly, Kulas has a practical side. "Once I knew that James was finished for me, I also knew I've got an album in the can so while I'm home, why don't I just pick up where I left off five years prior?"

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Kulas tends to stick to his own music rather than to reheat James' repertoire

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His debut solo CD, 1994's Mosquito — produced by fellow James member Saul Davies — was released when guys with guitars ruled the roost. Now, despite the teen bubble bursting, the industry, the majors anyway, shows a dismaying reluctance to get behind a male solo artist not peddling saccharin, r 'n' b-flavoured pop.

Despite this, Kulas remains undeterred and pleased with the reception he's received, both with a press and public curious about his transatlantic association. "The crowds have been wonderful in Toronto. I think the James connection has something to do with that. I think the connection from doing Mosquito before I went to the U.K. has a lot to do with that."

With the James association comes expectations. Kulas, however, tends to stick to his own music rather than to reheat James' repertoire, though he did recently play an impromptu, punk version of James' anthem "Sit Down."

For Saturday's show, Kulas has brought some new players on board, because "the original bass player and guitar player were on loan from another band."

For now, he's put the uncertainty aside.

"It's becoming clear now the best thing is to continue performing and writing and see where the next path leads." - TORONTO STAR

Ex-James singer and songwriter returns to T.O. with second solo album

Betsy Powell - Entertainment Reporter

Five years ago, Michael Kulas left Toronto to join U.K. rock outfit James, touring the world and mixing with some of his biggest rock 'n' roll heroes including Brian Eno, Sinead O'Connor, and Elvis Costello.

And then, late last year, James' singer Tim Booth bowed out, preferring to leave on a high note rather than let the seven-piece outfit "degenerate into an act that's alive to maintain contractual obligations," explains Kulas.

Now, on the heels of a sold-out farewell arena tour in the U.K., the guitarist, singer/songwriter resurfaces in Toronto with his second solo record, Another Small Machine, a self-produced collection of tuneful pop recorded in a seaside cabin in Scotland and released on his own imprint, Interloper.

The title came to him "sitting in the middle of nowhere recording," begins Kulas, who plays Rancho Relaxo (1:00 a.m.) on Saturday night as one of NXNE's closing acts. "I started thinking about my little project, a tiny little machine within the bigger structure which is James and the pop music industry."

Wait a minute. Where's the rock-star attitude one might expect from someone who has played to tens of thousands of people — even if it's true, as he suggests, that a raging ego ("if you catch me on the right day") lurks.

Perhaps, but he still laughs at the uncertainty the "breather" has presented.

"Returning to Canada meant leaving a large part of my life in Britain," he says. "But it was also, after five years, important to return and reconnect with the city I know best in the world."

Clearly, Kulas has a practical side. "Once I knew that James was finished for me, I also knew I've got an album in the can so while I'm home, why don't I just pick up where I left off five years prior?"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kulas tends to stick to his own music rather than to reheat James' repertoire

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His debut solo CD, 1994's Mosquito — produced by fellow James member Saul Davies — was released when guys with guitars ruled the roost. Now, despite the teen bubble bursting, the industry, the majors anyway, shows a dismaying reluctance to get behind a male solo artist not peddling saccharin, r 'n' b-flavoured pop.

Despite this, Kulas remains undeterred and pleased with the reception he's received, both with a press and public curious about his transatlantic association. "The crowds have been wonderful in Toronto. I think the James connection has something to do with that. I think the connection from doing Mosquito before I went to the U.K. has a lot to do with that."

With the James association comes expectations. Kulas, however, tends to stick to his own music rather than to reheat James' repertoire, though he did recently play an impromptu, punk version of James' anthem "Sit Down."

For Saturday's show, Kulas has brought some new players on board, because "the original bass player and guitar player were on loan from another band."

For now, he's put the uncertainty aside.

"It's becoming clear now the best thing is to continue performing and writing and see where the next path leads." - TORONTO STAR

Michael Kulas is one of Canada's least-known musical artists on the international stage.

Not that he has been trying to stay quiet - Kulas has been playing guitar for the last five years with the British supergroup James and has only recently decided to bring his talents back home. "It's been very interesting seeing people's reactions here when they find out I play with James," Kulas said recently.

"Because the band itself is sort of on the fringe, not in the mainstream. When I was playing here before James I was never a household name, either, I was always sort of on the fringe too, so the two things went together well."

James never really broke through in North America, though the seven-piece band had several major hits in Europe since its inception in 1983. As a measure of its success, the band's 1998 Best Of. . . album entered U.K. sales charts at No. 1 and stayed in the Top 10 for eight weeks.

"A lot of times people have that reaction of hearing of James from somewhere, the name is in their vocabulary they just can't quite peg what song it is they remember the band by," says Kulas, an amiable, soft-spoken guy, who has clearly picked up just a hint of English accent in his time away.

"A lot of the lack of North American exposure has to do with us not playing here a lot. I've been with the band five years and in that time we've played one show in Toronto."

One the reasons that Kulas is back home in Toronto is the decision by James frontman Tim Booth late last year to leave the band and move on to acting and screenwriting.

"We've just finished another sold out arena tour, and his feeling was that he wants to leave it now on a high while the band is still seen in really good light," says Kulas, 32.

The remaining six members of James are considering staying together, though no final decision has yet been made, Kulas says. In the meantime, he's shopping his independently produced solo album Another Small Machine to record labels in Canada and Britain.

Kulas was absorbed into James in 1997, though the Peterborough, Ont.-born guitarist's relationship with some of its members started earlier. He first met James member Saul Davies, who produced Mosquito in 1994. Two years later he played on Booth's solo album, Booth & The Bad Angel (a collaboration with Twin Peaks composer Angelo Badalamenti).

He was then signed on as a tour guitarist with the band - a week later he was playing with them on Late Night with David Letterman.

Having established himself with a well-known European outfit, it's somewhat surprising that Kulas has returned to his native land. He admits he did learn "a lot of really valuable lessons" touring and writing with James and Kulas can really name drop after hanging out in such elite company, though he does so with some reluctance.

"Brian Eno, Noel and Liam (the Gallagher brothers of Oasis), yeah, I've met a few of the big guys," he says. "It's a different world on tour in the U.K. It's pretty bloody amazing when you think about it."

Even with the James name behind him and the valuable experience of arena tours and festivals in Europe, Kulas felt he had to come home.

"Everyone says that to me, why are you bothering? It just feels like something I have to do," he says.

"Even though I've been away and all over the world, it's still a very important place to me. I'm a Torontonian and my family and very good friends are all here. It's been five years since I've done a show in Canada and released my last record (the independently recorded Mosquito). It's something that I have to do, I have to come home."

Kulas will return to his home near Glasgow this spring and summer to finish up several projects. But once that's done he'll be back to plug his solo recording and to play on much smaller Canadian stages.

"I don't know if (having been in James) makes it easier or harder as a solo artist," he says.

"For me it's still the same kind of thing its always been - you have to get out and perform you have to get your music out there. You have to do a lot of hard work."

Some facts about Michael Kulas:

Born: Peterborough, Ont., 1969

Albums with James: Whiplash (Fontana) 1997, Best Of . . . (Fontana)1998, Millionaires (Mercury1999, Pleased to Meet You (Mercury) 2001

Solo albums: Mosquito (Independent) 1996, Another Small Machine (Independent) 2001
Imperial Cheerleader (Independent) 2006
- The National Post

Michael Kulas is one of Canada's least-known musical artists on the international stage.

Not that he has been trying to stay quiet - Kulas has been playing guitar for the last five years with the British supergroup James and has only recently decided to bring his talents back home. "It's been very interesting seeing people's reactions here when they find out I play with James," Kulas said recently.

"Because the band itself is sort of on the fringe, not in the mainstream. When I was playing here before James I was never a household name, either, I was always sort of on the fringe too, so the two things went together well."

James never really broke through in North America, though the seven-piece band had several major hits in Europe since its inception in 1983. As a measure of its success, the band's 1998 Best Of. . . album entered U.K. sales charts at No. 1 and stayed in the Top 10 for eight weeks.

"A lot of times people have that reaction of hearing of James from somewhere, the name is in their vocabulary they just can't quite peg what song it is they remember the band by," says Kulas, an amiable, soft-spoken guy, who has clearly picked up just a hint of English accent in his time away.

"A lot of the lack of North American exposure has to do with us not playing here a lot. I've been with the band five years and in that time we've played one show in Toronto."

One the reasons that Kulas is back home in Toronto is the decision by James frontman Tim Booth late last year to leave the band and move on to acting and screenwriting.

"We've just finished another sold out arena tour, and his feeling was that he wants to leave it now on a high while the band is still seen in really good light," says Kulas, 32.

The remaining six members of James are considering staying together, though no final decision has yet been made, Kulas says. In the meantime, he's shopping his independently produced solo album Another Small Machine to record labels in Canada and Britain.

Kulas was absorbed into James in 1997, though the Peterborough, Ont.-born guitarist's relationship with some of its members started earlier. He first met James member Saul Davies, who produced Mosquito in 1994. Two years later he played on Booth's solo album, Booth & The Bad Angel (a collaboration with Twin Peaks composer Angelo Badalamenti).

He was then signed on as a tour guitarist with the band - a week later he was playing with them on Late Night with David Letterman.

Having established himself with a well-known European outfit, it's somewhat surprising that Kulas has returned to his native land. He admits he did learn "a lot of really valuable lessons" touring and writing with James and Kulas can really name drop after hanging out in such elite company, though he does so with some reluctance.

"Brian Eno, Noel and Liam (the Gallagher brothers of Oasis), yeah, I've met a few of the big guys," he says. "It's a different world on tour in the U.K. It's pretty bloody amazing when you think about it."

Even with the James name behind him and the valuable experience of arena tours and festivals in Europe, Kulas felt he had to come home.

"Everyone says that to me, why are you bothering? It just feels like something I have to do," he says.

"Even though I've been away and all over the world, it's still a very important place to me. I'm a Torontonian and my family and very good friends are all here. It's been five years since I've done a show in Canada and released my last record (the independently recorded Mosquito). It's something that I have to do, I have to come home."

Kulas will return to his home near Glasgow this spring and summer to finish up several projects. But once that's done he'll be back to plug his solo recording and to play on much smaller Canadian stages.

"I don't know if (having been in James) makes it easier or harder as a solo artist," he says.

"For me it's still the same kind of thing its always been - you have to get out and perform you have to get your music out there. You have to do a lot of hard work."

Some facts about Michael Kulas:

Born: Peterborough, Ont., 1969

Albums with James: Whiplash (Fontana) 1997, Best Of . . . (Fontana)1998, Millionaires (Mercury1999, Pleased to Meet You (Mercury) 2001

Solo albums: Mosquito (Independent) 1996, Another Small Machine (Independent) 2001
Imperial Cheerleader (Independent) 2006
- The National Post

Hitting the big time can be a bummer.That's what Michael Kulas is discovering. Five years ago the Peterborough native's well-received debut, Mosquito, had just dropped and was climbing the indie charts.

Then Kulas fell in with a gang of young Brits better known as college-rock faves James. He signed on as one of the boys in the band and bid farewell to his home and native land.

After half a decade of beer-fogged success, Kulas is back on this side of the pond with a lovely new solo record and a stiff upper lip. In a country notorious for eating its own artists, he's finding it tough to come home again.

"You'd think that, in some sense, a Canadian joining James would've been pretty big news," he chuckles. "But it's been like reappearing after an absence and finding that nobody knew you'd been gone."

When James frontman Tim Booth announced he was leaving during their December tour, most folks -- including Kulas -- assumed the band was folding. Now nobody knows what's up. Kulas is happy about his decision to leave, but won't say much more. Evidently, being in a seven-piece band teaches you diplomacy.

Still, Kulas is having a hard time letting go of his other life. In person, he's more hunky English gentleman than scruffy Canuck indie dude. He has a mongrel British accent and sips red wine and Perrier during our late-afternoon interview. And though you'd assume he'd be set on plugging his new solo work, the conversation keeps turning to his phenomenal experiences as a member of James.

You believe him when, during stories about singin' with Sinead and shooting the shit with Brian Eno, he effuses about his amazing luck.

"Unfortunately," he laughs, "a lot of my experience working with James is hazy. Too many pints of lager. It's sometimes very hard to recollect the fine nuances of my time with them."

Still, he says, he's brought that experience to his new disc, Another Small Machine. Written mostly in a "small hut in Scotland, 10 feet from the sea," the album bears few traces of the generic mid-90s Canadian alterna-rock sound of Kulas's earlier work. He dubs it "transatlantic." It's reflective and elegiac, with some echoes of James's jangly guitar rock, but the sound leans more toward stripped-down Coldplay.

The disc was in the can before Kulas parted ways with his former band, so it seems quite prescient.

"It was written in that headspace of feeling quite small, quite alone," he offers, "not knowing what was going to come next in my own life, my own career."

Who knows what's next for Kulas? He thinks the local scene is ready for a much-needed transfusion -- and after being away for five years, Kulas qualifies as new blood.

"There's a big difference from three years ago, when there was this connection being made between local musicians and new styles of writing songs with different grooves, techno beats, breakbeats, new technology. It was so exciting. Now it just seems like the city needs a kick in the ass" - Now Magazine

Hitting the big time can be a bummer.That's what Michael Kulas is discovering. Five years ago the Peterborough native's well-received debut, Mosquito, had just dropped and was climbing the indie charts.

Then Kulas fell in with a gang of young Brits better known as college-rock faves James. He signed on as one of the boys in the band and bid farewell to his home and native land.

After half a decade of beer-fogged success, Kulas is back on this side of the pond with a lovely new solo record and a stiff upper lip. In a country notorious for eating its own artists, he's finding it tough to come home again.

"You'd think that, in some sense, a Canadian joining James would've been pretty big news," he chuckles. "But it's been like reappearing after an absence and finding that nobody knew you'd been gone."

When James frontman Tim Booth announced he was leaving during their December tour, most folks -- including Kulas -- assumed the band was folding. Now nobody knows what's up. Kulas is happy about his decision to leave, but won't say much more. Evidently, being in a seven-piece band teaches you diplomacy.

Still, Kulas is having a hard time letting go of his other life. In person, he's more hunky English gentleman than scruffy Canuck indie dude. He has a mongrel British accent and sips red wine and Perrier during our late-afternoon interview. And though you'd assume he'd be set on plugging his new solo work, the conversation keeps turning to his phenomenal experiences as a member of James.

You believe him when, during stories about singin' with Sinead and shooting the shit with Brian Eno, he effuses about his amazing luck.

"Unfortunately," he laughs, "a lot of my experience working with James is hazy. Too many pints of lager. It's sometimes very hard to recollect the fine nuances of my time with them."

Still, he says, he's brought that experience to his new disc, Another Small Machine. Written mostly in a "small hut in Scotland, 10 feet from the sea," the album bears few traces of the generic mid-90s Canadian alterna-rock sound of Kulas's earlier work. He dubs it "transatlantic." It's reflective and elegiac, with some echoes of James's jangly guitar rock, but the sound leans more toward stripped-down Coldplay.

The disc was in the can before Kulas parted ways with his former band, so it seems quite prescient.

"It was written in that headspace of feeling quite small, quite alone," he offers, "not knowing what was going to come next in my own life, my own career."

Who knows what's next for Kulas? He thinks the local scene is ready for a much-needed transfusion -- and after being away for five years, Kulas qualifies as new blood.

"There's a big difference from three years ago, when there was this connection being made between local musicians and new styles of writing songs with different grooves, techno beats, breakbeats, new technology. It was so exciting. Now it just seems like the city needs a kick in the ass" - Now Magazine

Sometimes there's a price to be paid for returning to your roots. From playing 15,000-seat arenas to 150-capacity clubs, Michael Kulas has seen his audience become "more selective" since he returned from a five-year stint playing with Britpop heroes James in the U.K. and around the world. There is, however, an important difference -- he's now in charge of his own music.

Sipping on a vodka 'n' cranberry at the Rivoli, Kulas recalls the trauma of his first ever gig, a high school performance in Lakefield (near Peterborough) that featured aspiring vocalist Sebastian Bach. "At the end of the night, he stole my girlfriend. He was the singer, and I was the rhythm guitarist -- not even the lead. It taught me a very, very valuable lesson at a very young age: the flashy people at the front, they're the ones who always get the women. And if they don't have the women, they'll steal the women!"

Kulas is out to solve that problem: after playing rhythm guitar and singing backup for Tim Booth's recently disbanded crew, the Oakville native is back home with his own CD, Another Small Machine, on which he sings -- and plays -- lead. Of course, Toronto isn't exactly skid row, but many have wondered why he would brave our notoriously fickle club scene rather than playing to the converted in Britain.

"If there's nothing really happening," he affirms, "you should try to get something happening. Create an environment. If everybody feels a bit down and continually going on about, 'Well, there's nothing going on here, the music scene's shit,' to me, that's an open licence to actually start going fucking mental here.

"If nothing's going on, no one should give a shit if a bunch of musicians get a collective together, start banging out some cool songs, start playing some great shows -- all of a sudden, that makes it exciting again. Looking at this --" he points to the snowdrifts outside "-- I just see it as another example of an environment that is open to being indulged in."

Much of Kulas' new CD, Another Small Machine, he recorded himself in a less hospitable environment in Scotland's Ayrshire. "We're talking about a place with no phone, no television, no central heating, one propane stove -- it's a 90-year-old cottage with a great view of the sea," he says. "It's eight miles from the nearest town, and there's only one bus that will get you in there per day.

"You have to be able to stand your own company. All you've got to do, really, is sit and drink a lot of wine and see what comes out. And that can be inspiring. There are days when you just think, 'What am I doing here?' The rain is lashing down outside, and the waves are splashing around, and the only way to get warm is by doing something -- making music, turning stuff up really loud -- it's all you've really got."

Thankfully, Another Small Machine isn't as stark an album as its setting would suggest -- it's got some undeniably catchy, anthemic pop tunes. And while they're not as sonically filled out as James' seven-piece jams, Kulas includes the occasional eerie synth pad in a nod to James producer (and fellow backing vocalist) Brian Eno. Not only did the godfather of ambient help develop Kulas' production skills, he also ensured the star power he mingled with would be greater even than what he encountered in rock 'n' roll high school.

Kulas recalls a day a few years back when Eno sent the band off to the pub for the afternoon; when they returned, Eno got Kulas, Tim Booth and Sinéad O'Connor to join arms with him under dim lights and sing a quartet.

"Of course, I'd just had about seven pints," Kulas recounts, "and we're all squished up. We start singing, and I've got my hands behind my back, and I'm squeezing them so tightly because I'm so nervous thinking about the fact that I'm surrounded by Sinéad O'Connor and Brian Eno on the other side of me, and I'm just some hick from fucking Ontario! I'm like, 'What are you actually doing here? Bugger off back to Lakefield!'"

He may be leading his own band now, and proving to be an engaging performer to boot, but you can't take the self-deprecation from the rhythm guitarist -- or the Canadian.

"It was a really wonderful moment," Kulas admits. "It only helped to give me more confidence about so many other things from that point on. I'll always remember thinking, 'You are so out of your league!'" - Eye Magazine

Sometimes there's a price to be paid for returning to your roots. From playing 15,000-seat arenas to 150-capacity clubs, Michael Kulas has seen his audience become "more selective" since he returned from a five-year stint playing with Britpop heroes James in the U.K. and around the world. There is, however, an important difference -- he's now in charge of his own music.

Sipping on a vodka 'n' cranberry at the Rivoli, Kulas recalls the trauma of his first ever gig, a high school performance in Lakefield (near Peterborough) that featured aspiring vocalist Sebastian Bach. "At the end of the night, he stole my girlfriend. He was the singer, and I was the rhythm guitarist -- not even the lead. It taught me a very, very valuable lesson at a very young age: the flashy people at the front, they're the ones who always get the women. And if they don't have the women, they'll steal the women!"

Kulas is out to solve that problem: after playing rhythm guitar and singing backup for Tim Booth's recently disbanded crew, the Oakville native is back home with his own CD, Another Small Machine, on which he sings -- and plays -- lead. Of course, Toronto isn't exactly skid row, but many have wondered why he would brave our notoriously fickle club scene rather than playing to the converted in Britain.

"If there's nothing really happening," he affirms, "you should try to get something happening. Create an environment. If everybody feels a bit down and continually going on about, 'Well, there's nothing going on here, the music scene's shit,' to me, that's an open licence to actually start going fucking mental here.

"If nothing's going on, no one should give a shit if a bunch of musicians get a collective together, start banging out some cool songs, start playing some great shows -- all of a sudden, that makes it exciting again. Looking at this --" he points to the snowdrifts outside "-- I just see it as another example of an environment that is open to being indulged in."

Much of Kulas' new CD, Another Small Machine, he recorded himself in a less hospitable environment in Scotland's Ayrshire. "We're talking about a place with no phone, no television, no central heating, one propane stove -- it's a 90-year-old cottage with a great view of the sea," he says. "It's eight miles from the nearest town, and there's only one bus that will get you in there per day.

"You have to be able to stand your own company. All you've got to do, really, is sit and drink a lot of wine and see what comes out. And that can be inspiring. There are days when you just think, 'What am I doing here?' The rain is lashing down outside, and the waves are splashing around, and the only way to get warm is by doing something -- making music, turning stuff up really loud -- it's all you've really got."

Thankfully, Another Small Machine isn't as stark an album as its setting would suggest -- it's got some undeniably catchy, anthemic pop tunes. And while they're not as sonically filled out as James' seven-piece jams, Kulas includes the occasional eerie synth pad in a nod to James producer (and fellow backing vocalist) Brian Eno. Not only did the godfather of ambient help develop Kulas' production skills, he also ensured the star power he mingled with would be greater even than what he encountered in rock 'n' roll high school.

Kulas recalls a day a few years back when Eno sent the band off to the pub for the afternoon; when they returned, Eno got Kulas, Tim Booth and Sinéad O'Connor to join arms with him under dim lights and sing a quartet.

"Of course, I'd just had about seven pints," Kulas recounts, "and we're all squished up. We start singing, and I've got my hands behind my back, and I'm squeezing them so tightly because I'm so nervous thinking about the fact that I'm surrounded by Sinéad O'Connor and Brian Eno on the other side of me, and I'm just some hick from fucking Ontario! I'm like, 'What are you actually doing here? Bugger off back to Lakefield!'"

He may be leading his own band now, and proving to be an engaging performer to boot, but you can't take the self-deprecation from the rhythm guitarist -- or the Canadian.

"It was a really wonderful moment," Kulas admits. "It only helped to give me more confidence about so many other things from that point on. I'll always remember thinking, 'You are so out of your league!'" - Eye Magazine

There's no question that now is not the brightest time commercially for Brit-pop. Back at the end of 2001, English heroes James, wanting to go out on top, laid their career to rest. They've threatened to return one day in some form, but they'll be without vocalist Tim Booth or, for that matter, Michael Kulas. After five years with James, the Canadian singer and guitarist has decided to devote his time to conquering North America, and the world, with his own material. He's starting by promoting his second solo album, titled — ironically — Another Small Machine.

Recently, Kulas took some time out to sit down at the Rivoli in Toronto and discuss the death of James and the rebirth of his solo career, which was put on hold after his 1995 debut, Mosquito (named by Chart, at the time, as one of the "top 20 independent albums of the year").

"I started thinking about my role within James," Kulas recounts. "Within the big structure of it, you are another part of the whole. You're instrumental only as far as your role demands. And also on another level, when you release an album into the great big world of music, it's just another small machine in the larger machine that is pop culture... It was a record that I felt was really necessary to make, because it had been five years since I'd really done anything. I'd been within the James circle of music, and I felt like [this album] was one area where I was going to be able to at least get something out, or express something of my own, when everything I'd been doing was part of their machine."

Of course, there are worse machines to be part of. In their last U.K. tour, the band was still pulling in large, enthusiastic crowds and supporting their last album, Pleased To Meet Me. While fairly patchy, the disc contains some great, epic tunes with production by Brian Eno. Commercially, however, James had been on something of a downhill slope.

"I came into the band just as Whiplash [1997] was being released," recalls Kulas, "and that record was received fairly well overall and had a few hits in Britain, but a lot of people had such an expectation of James, after Laid [1993], that somehow the album should be of that [same] nature, or of that sound, or maybe set that kind of tone. Anything the band was doing might have been met with some kind of criticism just because everybody looked so highly upon Laid as a piece of work, which I think is really unfair.

"For instance, Millionaires [1999] is an absolutely fabulous record, and it got some of the best write-ups of any James album ever, especially in Britain, and in typical James fashion, that was the one record that was pulled off the shelf by Universal back here. It was only on import... so there's a real injustice there. Conversely, Pleased To Meet You just came out last year and it was picked up by MCA. It's a very strong record in a lot of respects, but maybe wasn't as fully realized as a record like Millionaires for various reasons — time constraints or budgets or what not."

Record companies have rarely been accused of being driven by a concern for quality. But even though Pleased To Meet You may have been less impressive than Millionaires it was still received with something less than general enthusiasm.

"I think it's a really strong record," reflects Kulas, "and when you see that happen, you really don't know what to think. Is it the industry? Is it the buying public? Is it the music that's making people react the way they do? Tim [Booth] is exactly right. He was saying, 'I think we made an amazing record.' And when you think you've made a real contribution and it's met with so little fanfare, it makes you question what it's all about. I think in a lot of ways his decision to leave was based on that: At least we'll leave on a high in a sense, before it moves into some level of chaos where you just don't care about the music you're making any more, where you're just doing it for contractual obligations. At least making that last record, everybody was passionate about it, no matter what the fucking critics said, and that's something I think James has always done: make music for music's sake, and not to fulfill some fucking obligation."

Kulas' experience with James evidently left him with a lot of good memories, and — just as important — a fanbase within the fanbase. On the James fansite, oneofthethree.co.uk, for instance, you can find a concert review written by a fan who arrived early just to be able to stand in front of him. "Yeah, you see!" Kulas laughs. "That's right! They did get the best spot! ...A lot of people in the aftershow would come up and thank me for the records that they had: 'Thanks for the great music. When are you making the next album?' and 'We've been following you since you joined the band.' I've always thought that was really heartening, so I've been interested in keeping in touch with these people, and you definitely get that at some of these shows: A pocket of people who are scr - Chart Attack

Colonized anglophiles will want to circle February 21 on their social calendars.

Not seven years ago local boy made good Michael Kulas was credited with the distinction of being in a band that had one of the top 20 independent albums of the year. This year the ex-James vocalist/percussionist will try to climb back to the top when he releases his second solo record Another Small Machine.

It has been five long years since Kulas has performed in his homeland (he's Canadian, you know), but that will all change on February 21 when he launches his new solo album at The Rivoli in Toronto. Success has been a long road for Kulas. Just when things started falling into place with his first try at a professional band, The Sea, the red carpet was pulled out from under him. After tweaking the band and sacking the lead singer, Kulas moved from Peterborough to Toronto with fellow Sea band mates Marc Paille and Greg Heard to form a new band called Speak.

It was in Toronto that Heard met James' Saul Davies and told him about Speak. Davies became interested in the band, and specifically Kulas. Davies went on to perform with Speak whenever he was in Toronto, and after seeing what Kulas could do, asked him to come to New York to help James' frontman Tim Booth on his solo album.

From there, Booth became a fan of Kulas and asked him to join James as a backing vocalist on their tour to support their 1997 album, Whiplash. The rest, of course, is history. Kulas hasn't offered up any upcoming dates, other than the CD release party at The Rivoli, but he is expected to perform some selected dates across Ontario to promote the new album. Keep your eyes on his official website for more information.
- Chart Attack

There's no question that now is not the brightest time commercially for Brit-pop. Back at the end of 2001, English heroes James, wanting to go out on top, laid their career to rest. They've threatened to return one day in some form, but they'll be without vocalist Tim Booth or, for that matter, Michael Kulas. After five years with James, the Canadian singer and guitarist has decided to devote his time to conquering North America, and the world, with his own material. He's starting by promoting his second solo album, titled — ironically — Another Small Machine.

Recently, Kulas took some time out to sit down at the Rivoli in Toronto and discuss the death of James and the rebirth of his solo career, which was put on hold after his 1995 debut, Mosquito (named by Chart, at the time, as one of the "top 20 independent albums of the year").

"I started thinking about my role within James," Kulas recounts. "Within the big structure of it, you are another part of the whole. You're instrumental only as far as your role demands. And also on another level, when you release an album into the great big world of music, it's just another small machine in the larger machine that is pop culture... It was a record that I felt was really necessary to make, because it had been five years since I'd really done anything. I'd been within the James circle of music, and I felt like [this album] was one area where I was going to be able to at least get something out, or express something of my own, when everything I'd been doing was part of their machine."

Of course, there are worse machines to be part of. In their last U.K. tour, the band was still pulling in large, enthusiastic crowds and supporting their last album, Pleased To Meet Me. While fairly patchy, the disc contains some great, epic tunes with production by Brian Eno. Commercially, however, James had been on something of a downhill slope.

"I came into the band just as Whiplash [1997] was being released," recalls Kulas, "and that record was received fairly well overall and had a few hits in Britain, but a lot of people had such an expectation of James, after Laid [1993], that somehow the album should be of that [same] nature, or of that sound, or maybe set that kind of tone. Anything the band was doing might have been met with some kind of criticism just because everybody looked so highly upon Laid as a piece of work, which I think is really unfair.

"For instance, Millionaires [1999] is an absolutely fabulous record, and it got some of the best write-ups of any James album ever, especially in Britain, and in typical James fashion, that was the one record that was pulled off the shelf by Universal back here. It was only on import... so there's a real injustice there. Conversely, Pleased To Meet You just came out last year and it was picked up by MCA. It's a very strong record in a lot of respects, but maybe wasn't as fully realized as a record like Millionaires for various reasons — time constraints or budgets or what not."

Record companies have rarely been accused of being driven by a concern for quality. But even though Pleased To Meet You may have been less impressive than Millionaires it was still received with something less than general enthusiasm.

"I think it's a really strong record," reflects Kulas, "and when you see that happen, you really don't know what to think. Is it the industry? Is it the buying public? Is it the music that's making people react the way they do? Tim [Booth] is exactly right. He was saying, 'I think we made an amazing record.' And when you think you've made a real contribution and it's met with so little fanfare, it makes you question what it's all about. I think in a lot of ways his decision to leave was based on that: At least we'll leave on a high in a sense, before it moves into some level of chaos where you just don't care about the music you're making any more, where you're just doing it for contractual obligations. At least making that last record, everybody was passionate about it, no matter what the fucking critics said, and that's something I think James has always done: make music for music's sake, and not to fulfill some fucking obligation."

Kulas' experience with James evidently left him with a lot of good memories, and — just as important — a fanbase within the fanbase. On the James fansite, oneofthethree.co.uk, for instance, you can find a concert review written by a fan who arrived early just to be able to stand in front of him. "Yeah, you see!" Kulas laughs. "That's right! They did get the best spot! ...A lot of people in the aftershow would come up and thank me for the records that they had: 'Thanks for the great music. When are you making the next album?' and 'We've been following you since you joined the band.' I've always thought that was really heartening, so I've been interested in keeping in touch with these people, and you definitely get that at some of these shows: A pocket of people who are scr - Chart Attack