Salute to Cedars and Music

By: Karen Wennberg

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March 2, 2008

When I first came to Youngstown, I was excited to have the opportunity of CHOICE when going out on the town.  My teeny hometown had 2 “clubs” for people underage- one played country and cover bands and the other was a meat market dance floor reminiscent of your middle school gymnasium dances, but with much creepier prospects.  So as I said, WOW was I happy to have so many choices when I moved here!  Bars in Youngstown all have their own personality, they cater to certain clientele and have varied atmospheres. Back in the day of the black X-ed hands when smoke still saturated the air, it was Cedars that first grew on me.  7 years later, and it has yet to disappoint.

Cedars is very inviting to those who tend to be socially inept at Other bars (read--here be dorks)  This is not where the ladies go to flaunt their designer clothes, UGGy boots or Coach purses.  There is no raised platform dance floor to put the goods on display for Bud-Light-suckling men to gawk at.  There’s no screeching jukebox, no screens on every surface flashing SPORTS SPORTS SPORTS.  No gaudy pseudo-memorabilia screwed into the wall under direction by some corporate office: you must place the Red Rider rifle next to the poster of John Wayne but to the left of the I Love Lucy chocolate box.

It is in the lacking of these traits that makes Cedars a great bar to go to.  What it DOES have is...art on the walls, a painted cloudy sky ceiling and a corner stage that is constantly occupied by local musicians.

It is the perfect chillaxosphere for the creative minds and oddball personalities of our city. But it’s also not one of those really underground bars where if an outsider walks in, the music scratches to a halt, crickets chirp and everyone turns to stare. No, it’s not standoffish like that.  And although Converse, Village tees and gauged piercings abound, you will not be shunned for coming in wearing a sports jersey.

When Halloween comes around, the costumes show off ingenuity and dark humor, creativity way beyond cliched naughty nurses and school girls.  And of course, there’s always Rocky Horror cross-dressers to be found.  How could anyone disagree with that on Halloween?

 

Art, music. Music and art. Last Saturday was a wonderful example of how Cedars draws all kinds of interesting personalities together.  Journalists, writers, Oakland Theater performers, Mr. Defend Youngstown, art students and alumni, and McDonough Mad about the Arts patrons among countless others gathered for one of the most entertaining concerts I've seen there.

Now I'd like to tell you why the bands were so great, but...there's a problem.  I'm musically inept.  I was born without the music gene.  As someone who can't tell you the difference between a key and a note, it hardly feels right to try to justify in words the greatness that poured into my ears that night.

 Unless! I try this in a universal language: using all the senses. All people have an innate sense of what beauty is, whether visual or audial.  Someone with no background in art can look at a painting and say if they like it or not, just by the feeling it evokes to them. We naturally come up with symbols and metaphors to help us compare seemingly dissimilar subjects. So why not try with music?

So here goes a review by a musically deficient artist, in stream of consciousness form:

Modern Life

Twice as many people as the usual band.  A crowded stage, controlled chaos, activity, synergy.  A mishmash of spices tossed in together for a complex blend. So many people they have to compete to get their voices into the microphones. Brassy instruments like big band? Trumpeting happiness, like watching a parade as a kid!  I want to get up there too and bang on a drum!  Wavering shaky vocals, echoes that get deep in the back of my mind, disconcerting.  A toy tape recorder with puffy stickers and pom poms.  Madman with a maraca shaking violently and sometimes seizurely across the stage and then into the audience.  Engaging the audience, interacting, making them laugh. Jam banding along, it feels so spontaneous and fresh, highlighting one person then transitioning to another and another.  Bizarre and entrancing. Like being at a crowded family dinner with many excited stories being told at once and picking out bits and pieces from everyone, not always understanding it all, but smiling and nodding along anyway!

The Zou

Bias abounds- I have been following their music for a long time and know all the songs (that aren't new) Being able to sing along is a huge bonus to watching, as you get to become a performer along with them. Sound output and input blends and amplifies in my head.  The crowd pulls in together. Each keyboard stroke lights a spark, soon the air is filled with a blanket of twinkling like a starry sky.  Vocals resonate together, explode sometimes with a BANG of the deep bass and drums, setting off a tumbling assortment of notes from everyone. Harsh crashes sting your ears then sweetened with high notes like stealing honey off angry bees.  Rich with sweet and bitter all at once. Getting really loud bellowing out those frustrations exasparated then that peaceful relief.  Deep dark growls on the guitar being drawn from another world, then heightening, scratching little itches with high notes.  Heart thumps along with beats. Warm sunny vocals shine over everyone, even when it scolds and yells, stays full of positive emotion.  Blues and green hues interspersed with shards of shocking black and white. Cold stinging raindrops, distant rumbly thunder, shuddering anticipation of an oncoming storm in the dead heat of summer.

 
Papadosio

Am I at Burning Man? I'm not cool enough for this crowd.  Flowing fabrics, hair, limbs, gyrating.  They have hemp-like hats, dreadlocked hair.  Quick pulsating rhythms, very ravie.  It does have a techno feel, neverending always mutating and evolving sounds, overlapping like waves in the ocean.  It can get overwhelming, but letting yourself get sucked in can be a wild rush. The many dancers, jumpers and swayers in the audience seem to come out of nowhere, taking over the space, waves of body heat, scents, strangeness.  Too shy to get into the movement, hanging back.  Music gets bigger, faster, accumulating and adding to itself layers like a Pollock painting. Electronic beats bouncing, invading my mind, taking over my consciousness until I'm free of other thoughts, can enter a freeflowing peace that invigorates, stimulates until you can't help but move your muscles to the beats, the music pulses the nerves and controls your movements.  Did I say you could take over?  Some easily succomb to the rhythm's dictations, they are very open and relaxed. Fighting for control but that's forcing against the grain just go with it.

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