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Best Kiss - Kristie Stremel

Kristie Stremel | MySpace Music Videos

In the studio recording "Best Kiss" with Scott Cameron, Lloyd Hicks, and Lou Whitney.

Question & answer with Kristie Stremel, musician and activist

Matt Bechtold     Thursday, November 13th, 2008

With a music career spanning 14 years, Kristie Stremel has seen many sides of the music industry. Starting out in the alternative rock band Frogpond, she released two major label albums and played shows with the likes of Everclear.

When Frogpond disbanded in 2000, Kristie started playing with a new band called Exit 159, named for the I-70 off-ramp to her hometown of Hays, Kan.

Kristie has spent the past eight years as a solo musician, and she has also become a prominent activist for gay rights. Her most recent endeavor is continuing her education as a student at the University of Kansas.

Q: How would you describe your music?

A: One of the best quotes I ever read about what my music sounds like is, "If Joan Jett and Tom Petty had a love child." That always made me pretty happy.

Q: What exciting things are happening in your life right now?

A: We're going to be doing two Exit 159 reunion shows. One in Kansas City on Feb. 20, and one here in Lawrence on Feb. 21. I'm also focused on breast cancer right now. My friend, Abigail from the Gaslights, was recently diagnosed and that really hit home. In our little community, a lot of musicians don't have health insurance, so I'm working with some foundations to see how I can help. I'm trying to be less of a taker and be more of a giver.

Q: You went back to school recently. How's that going?

A: Yeah, I decided in 2005 that I was going to get a formal education. So I did two years at community college in Kansas City, and then I enrolled this semester at KU. It's going great. Once I started taking classes and learning, I couldn't stop. I just want to know more and more.

Q: What kind of classes are you taking?

A: Mainly art. I'm working on a visual art education degree. I'm thinking about being an art teacher, which I thought would work out great with being a musician. I could teach and then take the summers off to go tour. If I have to have a "real job," it seems like a good schedule to have.

Q: How does it feel to come back to school as a non-traditional student?

A: I'm glad I did it this way. I'm glad I spent 10 years on the road and played shows and did whatever I wanted to do. Now I'm just so much more focussed and interested in the classes. I'm the nerd. I'm the old lady raising her hand in class.

Q: Has Lawrence been welcoming so far?

A: Of all the places to live in Kansas, this is the best place. It's just so chill. Everyone is relaxed and you can be yourself. Lawrence is the only city in Kansas that has a domestic partnership benefit, and that just shows the progressiveness and equality that Lawrence is trying to show. That's kind of a new thing, and given what's happening in California right now, that's pretty impressive for Kansas. Although it has no legally-binding qualities, it's still a major step in the right direction.

Q: What do you think about California's recent constitutional amendment to ban gay marriage?

A: To see Obama be elected the first African-American president, I was so joyful and tearful and thought it was such progress—only to see the gay rights movement take such a huge step backwards the very next day. It was so conflicting for me. I just couldn't understand it. I have a lot of friends out in California, a lot of actors and musicians, and they're all just flabbergasted that this could even happen. It's a mess out in California. People are protesting like crazy. All these couples have gotten married, and they're wondering what it means for them. They've had their rights taken away.

Q: How did that make you feel?

A: This is what really sucks for me: I pay equal taxes, but don't get equal rights. That's what it really boils down to. If something should happen to somebody's partner, they just don't have the law on their side. They don't have any legal rights. In that respect, Lawrence has made tremendous progress for trying to take steps in the right direction.

Q: How old were you when you came out?

A: I was 19. It was 1994, and I joined Frogpond in 1995.

Q: Was it difficult being from Hays, Kan.?

A: Definitely. But you know, I've found out that there are a lot of gay people in those small towns. I mean there are probably 10 from my small class in Hays that are gay or lesbian.

Q: What made you become more involved in the gay rights movement?

A: I just had to do something. For a long time, I stood on the sidelines. I wanted equal rights, but didn't do anything to help the cause. But for the past three years, I've really gotten tired of reading that someone was murdered for being gay, tired about hearing that kids are committing suicide because they can't deal with it, tired that partners are dying and not getting any compensation because they weren't allowed to get married. I'm tired of it. We all pay equal taxes, but we're second-class citizens as far as I'm concerned until we start getting those rights. It's just about being fair.

Q: What can other people do to get involved?

A: I've recently joined the Kansas Equality Coalition, and they're a great group that's on the lookout for everybody, working for equality for everyone.

I'm Deb Peterson, Continuing Education Guide for About.com, a part of the New York Times Company. I loved your story and blogged about it this morning on my site: http://adulted.about.com/

Kristie is an inspiration to other adults thinking about going back to school for a degree or any other reason. Thanks for sharing your story, Kristie!

Deb Peterson

Listen now to Kristie's podcast. Big thanks to the boys and girls at Lawrence.com!

Click link to listen: Podcast

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By Richard Gintowt (Contact)

Monday, October 8, 2007

Kristie Stremel'spost-secondary education was carried out in barrooms across the country as the touring guitarist for Frogpond. She spent two rollercoaster years with that major-label outfit before founding Exit 159 in 1997 and developing her own songwriting voice: a muscular country-rock amalgam of Joan Jett, Lucinda Williams, Paul Westerberg and The Pretenders. This year, Stremel released "10 Years"—a 14-song retrospective that includes two new songs and re-juiced versions of five tunes from her deep catalog. The album's self-effacing lyrics unveil a singer intent on sharing her journey with the world, so it's no surprise that Stremel was equally candid under our podcast spotlight.

No-fi highlights from the podcast

lawrence.com: So "10 Years" is a summary of 10 years of recordings?

Stremel: It's a compilation of a lot of songs I've written over the years. I woke up one day and realized, "My God—I've been playing music for over 10 years now." I'm still doing it, whereas a lot of people got married and had kids. I'm playing shows and I'm waking up and my neck hurts. I'm like, "Oh yeah, I'm getting older, that's right."

"Best Kiss (online single)" MP3s

• "Best Kiss" (online single)

• More on Kristie Stremel

It's on Stremeltone Records, which I'm guessing is your own thing?

Yeah, just my own, and you know what that means—it's a telephone and a fax machine.

And a fax machine?

Well, you know, gotta keep it real…

There's a reference to Paul Westerberg on the song "Have It All"…

That's my man. I think I ripped the whole song off of Paul Westerberg—all his little tricks and stuff. That was my little nod to one of my favorite songwriters.

Who else is in your Top Five?

I like the classic stuff still, like Tom Petty and Joan Jett and The Pretenders—people who got out there and kept rocking. There's a lot of new stuff out that I like—independent singer/songwriters that I've met while traveling, like Nini Camps out of New York.

"10 Years" MP3s

• "South East"
• "Paper Heart"

• More on Kristie Stremel

I'm guessing that the address in your song "4 South East" has some significance to you.

Yeah. That's a real address in Kansas City.

Care to expound on that a bit?

I hate to call it this, but it was kind of my stalker song. You know—the whole breakup, and you just kind of want to know what they're doing. I was thinking about that apartment that we lived in and all the good and bad times that happened there. I always joke onstage that it's my stalker song, but there was really no restraining order or anything like that.

I'm kind of proud of that song. I think we put it together really well. My producer is Lou Whitney in Springfield, Mo., and he's done a lot of great work. He used to play in a band called The Skeletons and he's recorded everybody that's trampled around Missouri.

National Coming Out Day Concert

• When: Thursday, Oct. 11, 2007, 8 p.m. to 11 p.m.
• Where: Solidarity! Revolutionary Center & Radical Library, 1109 Mass. St., Lawrence
• Cost: $3 - $5
• Age limit: All ages

Full event details

What does "producer" mean to you? How does that work?

That was always a touchy area that I didn't understand in the beginning. In Frogpond, we had Art Alexakis from Everclear produce our record "Count to 10," and I never really knew what that meant. He came in and helped craft the songs. Since I was just a player in Frogpond it didn't really concern me too much. But when I started playing my own music and people wanted to put their little paws on it, it was a struggle to give that to them and listen. But Lou made it really easy and he wasn't going to take anything away from the song that I really wanted.

Where did the song "Paper Dolls" come from?

A lot of people know I drank a lot in Frogpond and Exit 159. Shortly afterwards, I started getting clean. That was a song about the struggle of it and all the relationships that I'd been in: My paper heart loves paper dolls. When you're not feeling good inside and you're not liking yourself, there's no possible way you can like someone else and give them anything.

I like "10 Years" because the songs that I picked out and the new songs I wrote for it feel real honest—I didn't hold back. To me, that's what makes a good songwriter: putting it out there and not being scared of what people think about you. Maybe that song helped somebody else get clean or even just think about it.

Was there any moment that got you over the hump? Anything you can recall as a turning point?

I was really sick and tired of being sick and tired, especially out on the road just feeling like shit all the time. I think everybody kind of bottoms out with whatever kind of stuff they're dealing with, whether it's alcohol or drugs. I think I'd just had enough and I had a lot of people help me get clean. It was shortly after that I realized that I didn't need people to clap for me anymore. I played shows because that's what I did; because the powers that be gave me a gift, and I think everybody should use their gift. I was finally playing shows for myself, and that felt really good.

www.counterpunch.org

March 31 / April 1, 2007

The Rock & Roll of Kristie Stremel

Have You Heard the News?

By DANIEL WOLFF

At first, I thought word hadn't gotten to Kansas City. Which is kind of surprising, given cable and the internet and everything. But judging by Kristie Stremel's new cd, 10 Years, I figured Kansas City hadn't heard that rock&roll doesn't work anymore. Stremel's fourteen songs are built around the old stalwarts: bass, drums and electric guitar. They have these ringing, resilient chords that seem to rise to the sky. And her edgy, needy voice breaks like like a rock&roller.

It starts right on the opening cut, "Shimmer and Glow." The music goes from intimate whisper to growl of desire, while the melody's building to this hard-ass, declarative chorus. No whiff of irony. Instead, a straight forward, crisp, rhythm track with a sweet organ part slipping in to make it danceable. Rock&roll as face-to-face, direct communication: a way of telling someone how you feel.

That day's over, right? I would have said there wasn't a place for such music anymore. It's an outmoded language: another generation's language. The record's produced by Lou Whitney, who also plays bass, and features some lead guitar by D. Clinton Thompson: both veterans of The Morells and The Skeletons, trad Mid-western rock bands. That helps explain the clear and somehow familiar sound of the record. And on the second cut, "Have It All," as Stremel "buckles" in the presence of her lover, she mentions her Westerberg cd. Once she's given a nod to one musical influence, it's easy to spot others. The Replacements, sure, and Chrissie Hynde, Melissa Etheridge and Melencamp: you can play this game right through the cd and might even convince yourself you're gaining insight. But in the end, the music's too passionate for that. It's hell-bent on getting over, and, if it picks up bits and pieces from a thousand hit songs, well, that's the material at hand. "You can have my jeans, my Westerberg cd,// you can have the watch my grandma gave to me// take it all." Who cares about history, about styles and stuff? "I trade it all for you."

It's passion that's the key to 10 Years and, I think, explains why rock&roll still makes sense for Stremel. On "4 South East," she's scared. There's "a bad 80's song on the radio," and she keeps driving by her lover's house without going in. "What am I waiting for?" Note: the song isn't scared. The song has a pop hook you could hang your dress on. And a kind of revved-up power that pushes her to make the move, stop the circling, and "go get the one you love." It's music designed--from lyrics to performance--to give courage. On "Big Dreams," the question of courage--of breaking the cycle and taking action -- spins out into larger issues. She's driving to a job she hates, day after day, and what if that goes on for twenty years? What happens to her big dreams?

Those are rock&roll questions. Oh, people ask them in other idioms, from country to hip-hop, but for a long time rock&roll was the kingdom of big dreams. And to ask what happened to them--guitars ringing in the background--is also to ask what happened to rock&roll. Where'd it go? What happened to the potential you can still hear on the oldies channel? For Stremel, these aren't theoretical questions. It isn't about music going in or out of style. It's more urgent than that. As if she were saying, "What happened to this thing I cared about? I need to know, because I gotta go on from here. I gotta start where it left off. And to do that, I need to understand what happened."

You can hear her asking the question on "Paper Heart," as she punches holes in somebody's sheetrock walls, the sound behind her a mountain--no, avalanche--of guitars. And you can hear it on "Sweet Marie," where she keeps wondering aloud if this is "real"--questioning the bitter-sweetness of the chord changes even as she works her way through them. She knows both what and how she's asking sound almost old-fashioned. Fine. So, what's that mean?

The first time I listened to 10 Years, I got this picture of someone driving one of those long, dead-straight, prairie roads. Missouri corn fields flat and plain to both sides. And in that beautiful monotony, you yearn for the slightest curve, slightest touch. You squeeze the songs on the radio for whatever juice remains; rework the passion of the music out this kind of starved need.

But listening more, I don't think the songs inhabit that regional a landscape. Take "Leap of Faith," with its anthemic buzz guitar. We're in town. There's a little bar scene. People are leaving each other voice mails. Cable and internet do reach here, and they bring the same cultural rat's nest as anywhere else in the country. The streets have the same hard jangle of Burger Kings and dry cleaners. The issue isn't how little is on the horizon, but how much. And the drama is in breaking through that. The leap of faith means crashing that wall of familiar stuff to find each other.

It's as much a musical challenge as an emotional one. Given the basic tools--the same ones that come through the speakers Wal-Mart, or the phone when you're on hold -- how do you find feeling? On "Good to You," Stremel rides toward the big question on a fuzz guitar that rattles behind her. Like shaky hands. Like car keys when you're nervous. Then, when she gets to the main point, she drops everything. "What do I--what do I--what do I -- mean to you?" gets stuttered over just drums. As if she had finally arrived at the core question and had to trust the beat alone to carry her towards the future.

Stremel's not known nationally. She's released 10 Years on her own label available through her website (www.kristiestremel.com.). But now that I've lived with the cd awhile, I can't help but think it's going to be heard. Like the rest of us, Stremel's been told that things are hopeless. That the past, present, and future are disposable. The evidence lies in the litter all around. Yet, she's managed to grab some shards and forge this determined, tuneful, rocking collection. It's only a question of time before the word gets out.

Daniel Wolff is a poet and author of the excellent biography of the great Sam Cooke, You Send Me, as well as the recent collection of Ernest Withers' photographs The Memphis Blues Again. Wolff's Grammy-nominated essay on Sam Cooke and the Soul Stirrers is one of the highlights of CounterPunch's collection on art, music and sex: Serpents in the Garden. Wolff also wrote the text for the collection of Ernest Wither's photographs in Negro League Baseball. His latest book is 4th of July/Asbury Park: A History of the Promised Land (Bloomsbury USA) For the past year, he and director Jonathan Demme have been working on a documentary about post-Katrina New Orleans. He can be reached at: ziwolff@optonline.net