Manraygun

Manraygun
Misfortune Telling
Independent

MARY CHRISTA O’KEEFE / marychrista@vueweekly.com

The pair of puns on the cover of this debut full-length from the local veteran music-makers behind Manraygun is by no means a sign of forthcoming hilarity. Rather, they alert listeners to the presence of doubled meanings lurking in the folds of the album’s sadsack tales, a sharp ambiguity that seems to be a universally bemusing gift of age, expressing itself in the sigh of a slide guitar, flourish of percussion or doleful bass line. If there’s one thing Misfortune Telling wears on its sleeve, it’s history: these are songs grounded in vintage rock, early Springsteen to the Clash, idealistic working class rock and its cathartic stories of loss, losers and endurance. Ah, but there’s another sleeve: Manraygun’s sonic tapestry is considerably fattened up by the players’ allegiance to Southwestern roots, served up a little Gothic-style. If you could imagine the breadth, genre promiscuity and easy charm of a hoser Alejandro Escovado with the Handsome Family playing a little back up—that may come close. But there’s a density to Misfortune Telling, a lushness in the recording and in the solemnity of the songwriting, that marks it as more unapologetically expansive and ambitious.
- VUE Weekly

June 14, 2008
Putting punk to pasture
ManRayGun a far cry from founder's noisy origins
By FISH GRIWKOWSKY


Misfortune Telling

Indie

Four out of five

There's an eternally freshened stereotype - ironically passed on from long, long ago - about the former punk being sent out to pasture. It's meant as a dismissal, a discrediting.

But let's consider this for a second: Isn't a pasture one of the nicest places to be? Rolling grasses, vivid scents, shady trees - add a few people freaking out on mushrooms and all of a sudden you have the North Country Fair.

The point is, compared to where Dennis Lenarduzzi came from, and especially the noise he made there, ManRayGun is unarguably pastoral and peaceful.

His personal musical history predates Jerry Jerry and the Sons of Rhythm Orchestra, back to the hazily remembered Malibu Kens.

Everett LaRoi, the band's other main singer, comes from more easy going roots, including Idyl Tea.

Bass player Tom Murray worked in Old Reliable for more years than "alt country" had a name. Silas Grenis - who sings a beautiful, acoustic-backed one-shot called Way of the Sea - drums for punk legends the James T. Kirks.

And Dennis' brother Steve is a relative newborn on the live scene. Suddenly, the pasture is getting crowded, richer and noisier.

I'm having trouble coming up with an Edmonton band with a more diverse musical etymology.

Though it's a fairly relaxed affair, the cleverly-named Misfortune Teller is full of spirit, curious interest in circuses as far as lyrics go, and most importantly vocal unpredictability. I was a huge fan of Idyl Tea back when everyone wore vests and paisley, but LaRoi's songwriting has gone through an impressive seasoning. Less songs about how he feels, more rife with storytelling.

And Dennis's voice is both familiar and great. I keep mentioning Billy Bragg, but there it is.

Getting back to the pasture analogy, which ignores some of the fire here, there is great patience in this album's craftsmanship - best heard on its denouement, a funerary oldie called Here Lies Love. Notes are placed carefully as the affair comes to a close after a number of interesting roots styles and voices.

And, for the record, these guys pump it up and kick ass on a live stage - something you're welcome to see at sweaty Teddy's tonight at the CD release.

If this is the grazing field, I think I'll hang out here for a while. - Edmonton Sun

Manraygun
Twilightspeak EP
(Independent)

Rich with pathos-laden guitars and a nostalgic expression of roots music, Twilightspeak is a poignant introduction to Manraygun's storied introspection. This beautiful seven-song collection pulls you to sunset with tales of fleeting romance in blue collar Alberta and meditations on the heavy weight of self-sung truth. (JL) - Beatroute

Veteran Edmonton roots band keeps it rocking
Manraygun expertly weaves moody lyrics with 'memorable melodies'
 
Peter North
Freelance

Saturday, June 14, 2008

The way Everett LaRoi describes his membership in Manraygun, it's as if the making of the album Misfortune Telling was one of the bonuses, not the primary reason for holding on to his membership in this five-man band.
Composed of five veteran Edmonton-area players, Manraygun is a rootsy rock band whose members have more than paid their dues and who, collectively, could lay out a fairly detailed family tree illustrating a large swath of the last 25 years of our rock 'n' roll scene.
LaRoi tosses off names of venues like the legendary Spartan's Mens Club where he first gigged back in the early '80s, and makes mention of bands like the Malibu Kens and the Dragnets that his guitar-playing bandmate Dennis Lenarduzzi played in during the same era. It was a time when Moe Berg and Mike McDonald were just able to see formative editions of the Pursuit of Happiness and Jr. Gone Wild (respectively) on the horizon. LaRoi also mentions names like Idyl Tea, which he fronted, and Old Reliable, where bassist Tom Murray saw a few of his years flash before his eyes.
Rounding out the Manraygun cast are guitarist Steve Lenarduzzi and drummer/vocalist Silas Grenis. It's this cast that will unveil their 12-song collection tonight at Teddy's, 11361 Jasper Ave.
"It's been hugely fun and this is a swell bunch of guys," states LaRoi.
"There was nothing preconceived about this project. I was looking for side-guy projects and Dennis, who is an exceptional graphic artist, had been away from the scene for a while and wanted back in. He had reams of lyrics, so we started working on some songs."
Before long, LaRoi was presenting some of the material he had ferreted away for a solo disc, and with the help of his aforementioned friends, he started laying a few of them down in his studio.
When not sharing their culinary preferences during these sessions, the musicians would make much headway when it came to documenting the tunes, and with that came the sense that a band was starting to emerge.
"I was reluctant at first, but I started looking around the room and realized what a strong skill set there was with the five of us. I do production, Dennis does graphics; we can do everything in-house."
Once the decision was made to cut a full-length disc, this collection of "driven guys" hunkered down for five weekends, "working long hours, to the point where we'd be frazzled and get into a weird emotional state."
The result is a set where the blinds are sometimes drawn and a dark lyrical wash prevails. Instrumentally, the quintet provides balance via spinning cool harmonic lines across memorable melodies, which has long been LaRoi's strong suit.
The band doesn't so much walk the tightrope between roots rock and alt-country but swing from it, never letting the listener know just exactly where they'll land from one tune to the next.
"I am fond of Steve's tune Blind Boy; it has such a haunting lyric, and Dennis's classic '50s arrangement of Bing Crosby's Here Lies Love takes the song to another place," says LaRoi.
"Tightrope Tapdance happened by accident and we couldn't get it right until Tom told us all to 'just play it like The Stones' and it ended up with this mock Brown Sugar thing."
Tickets for tonight's show at Teddy's are $12 at the door. Manraygun should be onstage by 10:15 for the first of two sets.
Iconic Canadian guitarist dies
Canada lost yet another one of its finest roots musicians this past week when guitarist Red Shea died of pancreatic cancer in Aurora, Ont.
He was best known for his work with Gordon Lightfoot during the singer-songwriter's most prolific period from the mid-'60s through mid-'70s.
Playing lead on early classic Lightfoot material, it was Mr. Shea who produced the lithe lines that ran through pieces such as Ribbon of Darkness, Canadian Railroad Trilogy, Bitter Green and Pussywillows, Cat-Tails.
One of his best recorded moments came when Mr. Shea, with Ry Cooder on mandolin, provided the stunning accompaniment on Lightfoot's Cobwebs and Dust. Mr. Shea left the Lightfoot entourage not long after Sundown made Lightfoot a bona fide superstar in the U.S.
Pulling himself off the road, the guitarist accepted a gig with Ian Tyson and worked on his TV series. By the '80s, Mr. Shea took the bandleader's chair on Tommy Hunter's popular TV show while also playing dates with the Good Brothers. A few years ago Hunter acknowledged that "our show was very fortunate to land a talent like Red. He was just a pleasure to work with and be around."
Laurice Milton "Red" Shea is survived by his wife Lynn and three children. He was 70.
© The Edmonton Journal 2008 - The Edmonton Journal

MANYRAYGUN: GOING DEEPER (VUETUBE)
OLDER AND WISER, MANRAYGUN IS FULL OF SURPRISES
David Berry / david@vueweekly.com

Perhaps the best way to describe Manraygun is that the group doesn't really lend itself to easy interpretations. Any chance of generalization, or of simple slotting, is resisted. Most bands can be reasonably summed up in a genre tag, but the Edmonon quintet is a riddle wrapped in an alt-roots act inside a group of men who happen to like playing and drinking together.

You really need not look any further than the band's makeup. There is a quartet of Edmonton scene veterans, the type of men whose basements house Americana orchestras, but there's also Steve Lenarduzzi, who will casually joke that his only band experience before the group was "campfire." But even among the experienced, good luck trying to find a type. The rhythm section consists of appropriately nomadic lifers—everybody always needs a drummer and a bass player—but their backgrounds share little but sharp dressing and whisky: Tom Murray has plucked basses stand-up and straight for a record's rack worth of alt-country and folk acts, including Old Reliable, while Silas Grenis made his name pounding skins for the punkier likes of the James T. Kirks.


VUETube
The front row is no different: Everett LaRoi is the shaggy blonde tunesmith who spent time employed with the cleaner, crisper likes of Idyl Tea before running into Dennis Lenarduzzi, whose pugilist build and gruff voice point to his history of punk, blues and roots. It's a damn shame "motley crew" is already taken. Although as far as indicative names go, a portmanteaux, something that finds a pointed link between two otherwise unrelated ideas, is highly appropriate.

But as with everything about Manraygun, it doesn't simply end with superficial appearances. There is an attitude that permeates both interaction with the members and their recordings, and it is characteristically hard to pin down. There is, if not a proper darkness, at least a rueful appreciation of the rougher side of life, especially a life lived hard. That is probably the most prevalent theme in the songs, which are filled with tales of men and women dealing with life's hardships, both epic and mundane.

And yet there's a refreshing lightness around the band, more than evident at its recent stop by the Vue studios. Murray splashes whisky into mugs, the only available drinking receptacle, while Dennis takes a satisfied sip and deadpans "Damn, you guys make fine coffee." Steve takes razzing for showing up late, more still when he has to get into his rock-star mode, slipping on a suit jacket. Throughout the session, a witty jibe and a drink are never far off, and even after an hour of repeated takes and subtle adjustments, they give off the impression they'd be happy to play until we clicked off the lights and barred the door.

"I struggle to figure that out myself," says Steve of the band's dual spirit. "I think we're very happy people, truthfully, but I think we understand that in order to be happy, you have to shed your demons a little."


VUETube
And so enters Everything Is Temporary, the band's newest album. The title is as much a salve for the wounded as a reminder that we all must keep moving, an arm around the shoulders that eases your load as it pushes you forward. The album is populated by people who are dealing with their demons, metaphoric and, in at least once instance, quite literal. It's the kind of big-picture subject that can be dealt with by focusing on minute details—broken pictures, yellow ribbons on trees, more whisky—which lends itself to the band's narrative tendencies as songwriters.
"One of the tenets of our band is to be cinematic," explains Dennis, his manner of speaking more restrained and thoughtful than his rough, rambunctious stage presence. "Lyrically, we've kind of fallen into that, too. What's the big-picture story that we're trying to convey with this recording? Sometimes it's very overt and thought-through, but this one is interesting, because it just kind of came through.

"The whole idea of nostalgia, looking back, looking forward, there just seems to be a whole bunch of stories that were about that, reflecting on past experiences and breaking the cycle of the past, using the past as a stepping stone for the future, living in the moment—they were all explorations that came up," he continues. "That's where the title Everything Is Temporary just kind of made sense. It glued all those things together: the little vignettes and the little cinematic short-stories, it made a nice anthology."

Buried inside that explanation is another curio of this thing that is Manraygun. There is a definite feel of loose improvisation surrounding them, even as they play: between takes of one song, Murray and Grenis discuss a mandolin part, and though eventually the whole band will offer a suggestion, it ends with the shrugged confidence of a "Well, play it how you play it. - Vue Weekly

Manraygun
Twilightspeak
Independent
EDEN MUNRO / eden@vueweekly.com

“Prologue,” the short piece that opens Manraygun’s debut EP, Twilightspeak, pushes the listener to the edge of a cliff in a matter of seconds, Silas Grenis’s marching drum prodding them onward while a foreboding bass line from Tom Murray creaks and groans.

It’s a dark beginning to the record, and it leads perfectly into the next track, “Sunday Hymn,” where Everett LaRoi, one half of the band’s vocalist tag team, conjures up a tale that is ripe with details of both places and things. In a couple of lines he covers Nojack, Swan Hills and “those shiny little pills,” and yet nothing is set in stone, leaving room for changing interpretations. One listen to “Sunday Hymn” and the song’s love story rises to the fore, but the next time it might be the unbearable sadness that stands out.

LaRoi alternates the vocals throughout the disc with Dennis Lenarduzzi, but the splitting of the leads thankfully doesn’t result in a schizophrenic personality for the record. The two singers have voices that are noticeably different, with Lenarduzzi’s being slightly deeper and having a touch more of a growl to it than LaRoi’s, but they complement each other well and act as a shared centre for the band. Rather than dulling the effectiveness of the music by splitting the songs into two camps, Lenarduzzi and LaRoi manage to create one world in the lyrics, and then offer two related-but-not-quite-the-same perspectives on that world.
There’s a country feel to the music on Twilightspeak, although calling Manraygun an alt-country band would be to do the group a severe disservice.

Appropriately enough for a group who’s name comes from mashing up the name of visual artist Man Ray and the old stand-by of sci-fi enamoured kids and comicbook guys everywhere, the ray gun, Manraygun turns the roots elements of its music over and over, twisting them so that nothing is as expected. “Sunday Hymn” could be taken as a road song, but it’s no good-time ditty trafficking in old tropes, being more akin to the old trainwreck songs of the early 20th century than a stereotype-filled wanderer’s tale sung by someone who’s never really known the road.

The effect is a series of songs that sound old and worn, as though they’ve been ripped straight from an old and faded sepia-toned photograph. It’s a natural sound, though, with Manraygun avoiding the effort to reach for an air of nostalgia. The subject matter is of today, and the aged music simply serves to give it a backstory.

It would be remiss to talk about this disc without mentioning the musicians who colour the songs in- and outside the lines: Grenis plays the drums and percussion instruments with restraint, holding back at the right moments—on the opening verse of the closing “Epilogue”—slipping quietly back in and hefting the music up to a higher place—again on “Epilogue” as the song draws on. Murray’s bass lines are muscled, supporting the songs without working them over—except when they need to be beaten a bit—and on “Backwoods” he picks up the mandolin for a little backwoods-style mandolin pickin’.

And then there’s Steve Lenarduzzi, who is part of a three-pronged guitar lineup, along with his brother and LaRoi. Together, the guitarists layer their instruments, using both acoustics and electrics. What could have easily turned into a wall-of-sound, though, is instead an often-sparse sonic environment, with the guitars sweeping in and out, paying more attention to playing individual melodies that expand on the songs without simply copying the same part three times over.

Taken as a whole, Twilightspeak seems an ideal title for the EP, suggesting that night is falling quickly, yet much is still left to be said. Whether or not anyone will hear it in the darkness is another question, and one that only the music holds the answer to.

- VUE Weekly

Everything Is Temporarily Nostalgic
Local band, Manraygun, sing praises of alcohol and reminisce about the good ol’ days
Published December 10, 2009 by Thomas Patrick Pringle in Music Feature

Photo Supplied

Manraygun | Nostalgic, much?
Manraygun with Pale Moon Lights
The Artery (9535 Jasper Ave.). $15 at the door, includes the CD. Fri. Dec. 11 (Doors at 9 PM).

Nostalgia is a heavy thing. Local rockers Manraygun confront their memories and the post-post-modern angst associated with nostalgia in their new album: Everything is Temporary, which provides a fascinating commentary on the shallowness of the American Dream. “Nostalgia is a double edged sword,” says songwriter Dennis Lenarduzzi. “It’s a good thing to look back, but it could be something where people get trapped into cycles and [wait] for that intervention.”

That’s exactly where Everything is Temporary gets its legs. Manraygun channels the gritty writing of Charles Bukowski or Raymond Carver into a full sound that makes you wonder what Born in the U.S.A. might look like with a Canadian flag instead of the stars and stripes. While they might tell tales of yore, the band also brings their music to a climax of raucous barroom cheers.

Barroom cheers are familiar sounds to this band, as so many of these songs celebrate booze. “Well, we all enjoy alcohol,” Lenarduzzi laughs. “Part of it is just tapping into the great myth. There’s all the background noise of what we’ve grown up with in terms of our music and poetry, [and] it becomes part of the lexicon of how we express ourselves.”

Alcohol is certainly an expressive force in Everything is Temporary, where the blues-romp “Whiskey Makes a Wise Man Wiser” sings its praises, the excellent “Carousel” asks: “Who could ever raise their glass to a self-made martyr?”

While a couple of these tunes sing the blues of smoky barrooms, Manraygun also manage to fully embrace their punk roots: “Punk for us is a very broad term,” Lenarduzzi says. “It’s a way of being and a way of carrying that torch.” To that end, Lenarduzzi met with British folk-punk legend Billy Bragg while he was in town last month, and the band is taking a lead on Bragg’s “Jail Guitar Doors” initiative. “[It’s] basically program that puts guitars in the hands of inmates and helps inmates with mentoring, so they can express themselves through music. We’re hoping to effect some change, which is what punk is supposed to do.”

Lenarduzzi recalls fondly his days in the Edmonton punk scene, hanging out with The Clash backstage at the Kinsmen Field house, how The Ramones played the loudest show he’s ever seen at the Convention Centre South, or how he was the first to book the Red Hot Chili Peppers and about 15 people showed up. So, what’s his take on why a lot of bands today shy away from telling more hard-hitting stories? “A lot of it seems to be about sound, or rhythm, or being really cool or something,” Lenarduzzi says. “We’ve come to terms with that, we’re of a certain age. Sorry, but I just don’t look good in skinny pants.”

But Manraygun out-punks the American Apparel generation any day. For an album that likes to dwell on the past, Everything is Temporary shows absolutely no regret – and that might be the most punk thing of all: “I’d been involved in music for a long, long time, and I’d stopped for a long, long time. One day I went “what am I doing? I’m not getting any younger.” As for any regrets, Lenarduzzi says, “This band was founded on getting rid of that stuff.”
- See Magazine

What you have to admire about Manraygun’s latest release, Misfortune Telling, is its rustic simplicity. The record is beaten down by wave after wave of emotion, ranging from a lover’s nostalgia to the complete realization of one’s stupidity. But somewhere down within the well-paced guitars and organic undertones exists an unadorned desire to experience all of life’s little hardships. “Mattress Wounds” is a notable track thanks to a catchy melody smothered in fiery vocals. “Tightrope Tapdance” is also worth mentioning — the lyrics can’t help but poke fun at humanity’s often embarrassing circus acts. As Misfortune Telling progresses, it’s clear that the Edmonton-based quintet are smiling quietly at adversity, glad that they’ve got some authentic experiences to compare to an often surreal life. (Independent) Amanda Ash - Exclaim!

What you have to admire about Manraygun’s latest release, Misfortune Telling, is its rustic simplicity. The record is beaten down by wave after wave of emotion, ranging from a lover’s nostalgia to the complete realization of one’s stupidity. But somewhere down within the well-paced guitars and organic undertones exists an unadorned desire to experience all of life’s little hardships. “Mattress Wounds” is a notable track thanks to a catchy melody smothered in fiery vocals. “Tightrope Tapdance” is also worth mentioning — the lyrics can’t help but poke fun at humanity’s often embarrassing circus acts. As Misfortune Telling progresses, it’s clear that the Edmonton-based quintet are smiling quietly at adversity, glad that they’ve got some authentic experiences to compare to an often surreal life. (Independent) Amanda Ash - Exclaim!

Dennis Lenarduzzi isn’t being oversentimental when he calls ManRayGun a band of brothers.

For starters, his actual kid brother Steve is one of the band’s three disparate vocalists, along with Everett LaRoi and Dennis himself. It’s often pointed out before joining this band, Steve’s entire vocal career consisted of campfire singing with beers and friends. And yet it’s no stretch whatsoever that ManRayGun is opening for Corb Lund next Friday at the Edmonton Events Centre.

They come off as solid, inquisitive and seasoned because, well, they actually are, having emerged from at least 20 years of our punk scene, a pop-folk band of some repute named Idyl Tea and the anti-cookie-cutter country environment that owned this place for years. They also come off as one of Edmonton’s truly great bands.

“We push each other,” Lenar-duzzi explains. “There was a lot of pushing on this record. There were a couple times —” Here, he cuts himself off with a laugh.

A chance to see them in tighter quarters presents itself Friday night — a gig at the Blue Chair Café at 9624 76 Ave. In a room so cosy, their presence will be almost overpowering if it’s anything at all like their December show at ARTery in the Quarters district. There, that fine brew of three singers kept things immensely interesting, as Silas Grenis smashed his drums and the ubiquitous Tom Murray made that giant bass sing like an ancient whore.

“We’ve always wanted to be experimental in some ways. We may not appear experimental, externally, but internally we’re switching around instruments, things like that.

“I don’t know how successful we were in making something that’s different sounding,” (P.S., very), “but for us, but we pushed ourselves on the new one.

“Even the genesis of some of the songs — we’d decide we’re not even going to start with drums on this one. Or we’re not even going to have guitar on this song. There were a couple tunes on the album that were started off with an omnichord” — a rhythm and beat device, toy-like, from the ’80s — “or a drum machine on a Hammond organ.

“Specifically there’s a couple tunes on the album that didn’t even exist before we started actually recording — they just came out of being in the studio after we laid down beats and turned into something.”

Part of this fooling around with the unknown exists outside ManRayGun’s parameters. Lenarduzzi: “We’re doing some remixes on some of the tunes now. We talked to a DJ, this dude in Berlin (Phonatic) that does this kind of thing. We also did some collaborations with Ira Lee in Montreal. We’re doing mash-ups with poetry on top of them — I have no idea what’s going to come back from Germany,” he laughs.

Tickets to the 8 p.m. Blue Plate show are a reasonable $12, and you can book yourself a seat by calling 780-989-2861 if you’re the planning type. This’ll be a great show, guaranteed. - Edmonton Sun

Dennis Lenarduzzi isn’t being oversentimental when he calls ManRayGun a band of brothers.

For starters, his actual kid brother Steve is one of the band’s three disparate vocalists, along with Everett LaRoi and Dennis himself. It’s often pointed out before joining this band, Steve’s entire vocal career consisted of campfire singing with beers and friends. And yet it’s no stretch whatsoever that ManRayGun is opening for Corb Lund next Friday at the Edmonton Events Centre.

They come off as solid, inquisitive and seasoned because, well, they actually are, having emerged from at least 20 years of our punk scene, a pop-folk band of some repute named Idyl Tea and the anti-cookie-cutter country environment that owned this place for years. They also come off as one of Edmonton’s truly great bands.

“We push each other,” Lenar-duzzi explains. “There was a lot of pushing on this record. There were a couple times —” Here, he cuts himself off with a laugh.

A chance to see them in tighter quarters presents itself Friday night — a gig at the Blue Chair Café at 9624 76 Ave. In a room so cosy, their presence will be almost overpowering if it’s anything at all like their December show at ARTery in the Quarters district. There, that fine brew of three singers kept things immensely interesting, as Silas Grenis smashed his drums and the ubiquitous Tom Murray made that giant bass sing like an ancient whore.

“We’ve always wanted to be experimental in some ways. We may not appear experimental, externally, but internally we’re switching around instruments, things like that.

“I don’t know how successful we were in making something that’s different sounding,” (P.S., very), “but for us, but we pushed ourselves on the new one.

“Even the genesis of some of the songs — we’d decide we’re not even going to start with drums on this one. Or we’re not even going to have guitar on this song. There were a couple tunes on the album that were started off with an omnichord” — a rhythm and beat device, toy-like, from the ’80s — “or a drum machine on a Hammond organ.

“Specifically there’s a couple tunes on the album that didn’t even exist before we started actually recording — they just came out of being in the studio after we laid down beats and turned into something.”

Part of this fooling around with the unknown exists outside ManRayGun’s parameters. Lenarduzzi: “We’re doing some remixes on some of the tunes now. We talked to a DJ, this dude in Berlin (Phonatic) that does this kind of thing. We also did some collaborations with Ira Lee in Montreal. We’re doing mash-ups with poetry on top of them — I have no idea what’s going to come back from Germany,” he laughs.

Tickets to the 8 p.m. Blue Plate show are a reasonable $12, and you can book yourself a seat by calling 780-989-2861 if you’re the planning type. This’ll be a great show, guaranteed. - Edmonton Sun