By Isa Jones
By Mary Willson
By Brian Turk
By Drew AIles
By Taylor Boylston
By Bree Davies
By Emerald O'Brien
"I'm going to land as close to Boston as I can afford to get," says Ciampa, who's been lured by the active folk scene in that city. "There are just a lot more serious folk venues there and lots of good players, which means there's more competition, but it brings respect to the scene."
The pace of East Coast living will likely necessitate some serious adjustment. After all, this is a man who has happily never trained for the rat race. In 1998 he recorded his debut CD, Cut to the Chase: Human Behavior Commentary, in a ten-by-eleven-foot room that housed his bed and clothing as well as his recording equipment, and he supplemented a struggling existence as a working musician by delivering newspapers downtown and doing occasional odd jobs. The possible changes are not lost on the 31-year-old songsmith. "I wonder if the good music is an antidote to the lousy lifestyle of living back there," he says.
Ciampa once served as soundman for the Swallow Hill Music Association, the seat of Denver folk-music activity -- and oddly, the place where he first entertained thoughts of leaving town. "A great majority of traveling songwriter types who came through Swallow Hill live back there somewhere," he explains, "so there must be something to it."
Ciampa is taking a wait-and-see attitude toward the actual date of his departure. He could be gone by as early as this weekend, or he may hang around for the Old-Fashioned Hootenanny hosted by Harry Tuft at Swallow Hill on September 3. Either way, we wish him luck and suggest he bring plenty of music for the road. But that shouldn't be a problem.
Operational guide: Fort Collins may seem an unlikely locale for a music scene, but thanks in large part to the foundation laid by prodigal punks All and the Descendants, it has maintained its status as a music town, if a geographically surprising one. These days, the All/Descendants presence can still be felt in the labors of Owned and Operated Recordings, which formed about two years ago. Though retail and distribution manager Jason Chinnock says those involved "didn't get [their] shit together until this year," a quick roll call reveals that the company is well-armed in the sometimes ugly struggle for survival. Those who both own and operate the label include Bill Stevenson, a former member of All; Joe Carducci, who had a heavy hand in SST records in the Eighties and also runs Provisional Films out of Laramie; and former C/Z Records honcho Joe Young.
All of the Operated folks have been mighty busy lately, as the label recently released Center of the Universe, a compilation including Wretch Like Me, Bill the Welder, Tanger and the Pavers, the new band from former All singer Scott Reynolds. Perhaps sensing a lucky streak, the company has also launched Upland, an offshoot imprint for artists who might not share the rock-and-roll aesthetic of bands on the Operated roster.
"A lot of times when rock-and-roll bands start a label, they sign a lot of bands that all sound the same," says Chinnock. "Upland adds diversity. We had friends doing all kinds of roots music, and we knew there were different areas of roots to explore, but it might not have worked on Owned and Operated."
Upland is getting ready to set its first-born free in the world. In mid-September, a compilation titled White Out on Black Paper will begin making its way to record outlets, spreading the music of Drag the River (featuring John Snodgrass of Armchair Martian and Chad Price from All), Grandpa's Ghost, the straight bluegrass stylings of Stop and Listen, and Spot, some kind of Celtic mutation from the former producer of records for the Minutemen and Hüsker Dü.
According to Chinnock, both labels share goals with other indies in that they see artist development and opportunity as their primary directive. "All of our bands have worked their asses off," he says. "With our label, they are finally getting a little bit of a break, a little bit of a financial backing and tour support and everything. Of course, if we're gonna work for them, they have to work for us, and that means touring. Doing guerrilla warfare sometimes." And though the label is looking out for the little guy, the caliber of its cache allows Owned and Operated to be a tad picky. "People will send us promotional stuff that sounds like the Descendants and All," he says, laughing. "Like, 'Oh, I sound like they used to -- they'll sign me.' But the guys who were actually in those bands don't even sound like that anymore. We're just looking for bands we can get behind, see live and know they're gonna be great."