Maimou

Maimou is Juliana Sheffield and Zac Baird, two Texan musicians who found themselves in Venice Beach with a rented four-track tape recorder and strange brew of stuttering beat-machines and orphaned melodies. How this underfunded weekend collaboration- a dalliance of whimsy and desperation, choreography and chaos- became one of the most lusty and fecund bands around- is a tale that will never be told. (at least the same way twice) Juliana had come to L.A. after completing a degree in operatic voice and five-year run in the Austin jazz/swing scene, most notably with 81/2 Souvenirs and a combo she formed with local pianist Kevin Lovejoy called Battery. Pleased to be interpreting some of the finest songs ever written, she began to take more and more pleasure in deconstructing these very tunes- stripping them down to their naked, intrinsic elements, leaving nary a weight-bearing chord. Before long, these journeys failed to completely satisfy, and the singer started building tunes of her own. “The ‘thin air’ aspect of song writing was/is the hardest part. With standards, I knew the ultimate purpose had already been fulfilled, by countless musicians in countless ways. With my first songs, I had to convince myself that I was scavenging for my own lost ideas...” .....When Zac Baird agreed to move to L.A., he was playing with The Hairy Apes, his second project with the inexhaustible Mike Dillon, whose band Billygoat also featured Zac on keyboards. Curious about working in a more “3-minute format, where you have to say everything right the first time...”, he was nonetheless enriched by the years of mind-blowing jams with some of North Texas’ most virtuosic talent. His unique synth-craft and unorthodox use of vintage keyboards has earned him international appreciation. Zac and Juliana were barely acquaintances when they started the “lock-ins” in Venice, the house of an out-of-town neighbor providing the venue. “In the beginning, it was so simple: one keyboard, a four-track with no rewind and a looping machine which had seen better days. I miss those times...” After six months of gathering their often disparate ideas into songs, Maimou was born. Maimou is Greek for chimpanzee. “Doesn’t everyone love monkeys? It is a term of endearment. If I love you, I call you my maimou...”, says Marcos Novak, the Greek professor who lent Zac and Juliana his house for use as a studio. “But no one can say it. It confuses...” laments Juliana. “Just say my moo. Say it three times,” she offers. Within six months, Maimou prospered in clubs all over the L.A. area. An audience was swift in coming and labels soon followed. The band obliged with showcases locally as well as in New York, where at least six major labels had expressed serious interest after hearing a five-song demo. “This was a little overwhelming. We had set our sights on some cool indies, and suddenly we are on Jimmy Iovine’s leather couch looking at John Lennon’s Mellotron.” Zac recalls the experience as “a strange mixture of awe and anxiety...they thought we could sound more like Dido if we tried, or more like Norah Jones if we got the right producer. They suggested we work with Christina Aguilera’s producer...it was all wrong. I wondered if they had really heard our demo...” Juliana adds, “But you know how it is...you want to prove you can work this and win somehow with your music intact- because there are examples of every scenario: the unlikely successes, the surprisingly ignored. We just wanted to make a record and tour...” After months of enthusiastic but fruitless meetings with more labels, Maimou decided to record on their own. “No conclusion, really. We just drifted apart...that’s how they do it now, they leave the door open just enough to eavesdrop...waiting didn’t make sense.” Maimou’s first release, Persephonics was birthed on stolen time and borrowed resources, with many fine musicians donating hours and ideas to the cause. L.A. producer Andy Hay joined the band’s effort, mixing in the wee hours between paying gigs. The product is a unique blend of accidents, recoveries and flawed memories. Why Persephonics? Juliana describes a descent, a transformation, the scars of which can’t be disguised, and the reemergence into an imagined paradise. “I thought that maybe Persephone wrote some songs in hell, and when she came back, no one could understand them. They were jagged and strange in ways that only worked in the Underworld. On Earth, they were atonal grunts and screeches, but were oddly compelling...our CD might be a little like this, if you close your eyes...” Zac, in creating the orchestration for the tracks, has juxtaposed the violence and serenity of this mythical descent- where bone-crushing beats and dense strings alternately disturb and embrace the listener. The songs are undeniably hook-laden with a wily, unsettling conflict between sweetly-delivered melodies and abrasive rhythm tracks. Ranging from twisted, torchy ballads to dense electronica, pure pop to arch rock, “Persephonics” delivers a serpentine journey likely to challenge and seduce. So what would it sound like if Judy Garland sang with Led Zeppelin? Sarah Vaughan with the Doors? Joining Maimou on Persephonics is Texan powerhouse drummer Michael Jerome Moore (Course of Empire, Richard Thompson, Blind Boys of Alabama, to name a few) and L.A. bassist Joseph Karnes (Ben Taylor, Imperial Drag, Merrick). The live Maimou is yet another unexpected element of this tale, rocking harder and longer than one might imagine. This is a real band, improvising and responding to one another in ways few groups do. The SXSW show in 2004 was an exquisitely rowdy affair, sending instruments in flight while the band brutally dismantled and reconstructed a song from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Maimou’s live show is an entirely different monster, from an entirely different myth. Zac explains: ”Even we don’t get it...we are possessed in a way we have never been in the studio. Whatever demons we have as a group, you’ll meet them at the live show!”