Interview: Larkin Grimm
Thursday, November 19th, 2009You’re from Dahlonega, correct?
Yeah, I’m home and I’m sitting here with this huge view of the Appalachian mountains and it’s great and there are church bells singing some Southern hymn. I was born in Memphis and then I lived in Atlanta for 5 or 6 years — Grant Park. My dad was an Appalachian fiddler and he wanted to learn from a teach who lives up here, named Bruce Molsky. We moved here so he could be closer to the fiddle and banjo people.
Does he still play?
Yeah, his name is John Grimm and he’s in a band called the Georgia Potlickers and he has a music store up here called Vintage Music on the Dahlonega square.
Did your interest in music stem from growing up watching your father play?
Definitely, it’s kind of all he does. He’s always worked like 16 hours a day teaching lessons, doing repairs and selling instruments. In the evenings he’s either playing a show himself or working with a recording engineer or sound engineer somewhere. If I was hanging out with my dad it was always at a concert or at his shop. I used to walk home from school and he would give me a nickel to tune all of the guitars in the shop.
He’s really into Eastern music as well — he was a hippie — so he was trying to give me a classical Indian kind of training where you have to spend years tuning an instrument before you can actually play it.
Larkin Grimm plays Variety Playhouse Sat., Nov. 21 with the Mountain Goats and Final Fantasy. $17.50. 9 p.m. 1099 Euclid Ave. 404-524-7354.









White Denim’s Fits wields a dizzying, ADD aesthetic that brims with rhythmic dexterity. By design, nothing stays in one place for too long. “Radio Milk How Can You Stand It” opens with a wash of noise that bursts into rhythms snaking through funk, psychedelia and art-rock terrain. The music careens wildly, crashing against the noise-damaged, Tex-Mex spaz of “El Hard Attack Dcwyw” and the spaced-out dub of “Sex Prayer.” At the half-way point, the group’s meds seem to kick in as “Mirrored and Reverse” settles into a groove that continues its wild directional changes but tames the atmosphere. The group’s execution of such lurching musical bouts is impressive, but the rapid-fire nature of it makes Fits an exercise in difficult listening. (Downtown Music) 3 out of 5 stars.





Duet for Theremin and Lap Steel’s latest offering captures two sprawling masses of improvised drones too harmonious to be called avant-garde and too experimental for stuffy modern classical terms. These sounds are the product of two minds sharing a single headspace and letting the music drive – which is typical of the Atlanta duo. From the onset of the 23:56 minute opener “Live at Eyedrum,” the lines are blurred as each instrument’s respective whines and whirs waver in a dream state. The longer 33:18 minute piece, “Live at Kavarna,” embodies everything the subconscious mind finds appealing when deciphering the beauty in whale songs, haunted house sounds and dog whistles. Here, they collide with the cerebellum in a graceful, slow-motion crash. Put it on and drift away. (Self released) 4 out of 5 stars.


With their self-titled debut, Londoners, The xx drift through a mire of boy-girl, twentysomething sexual and emotional ruminations via sparse atmospheres and occasionally evolved pop melodies that hide mostly in the shadows. But when it comes to the surface in “VCR,” “Crystalised” and “Basic Space,” their simple, economical songwriting soars far beyond their years. Vocalist Jamie Smith coos her regrets, apologies and desires with spaciousness and allure, leaving plenty of room to roam in every song. Romy Croft delivers deep, ethereal guitar lines that fit perfectly, but he has the voice of a breathy gorilla with a mouthful of marbles and he ruins the moment every time he emotes. It’s not enough to kill the record, but in an otherwise perfectly sensual balance he’s hard on the ears. (Young Turks) 4 stars out of 5
More than one member of the band The Sunglasses sports a fading, blue-green, prison-style tattoo of the letters F.I.D. Drummer Ray Fleming wears it on his arm, while the others don them on less visible parts of their bodies. When asked about it, they give each other a shifty look before Fleming sheepishly offers, “It stands for ‘Fuck It Dude.’” While that isn’t necessarily the Atlanta-based band’s philosophy, it’s a credo that drives the brash and arty post-hardcore rhythms of its newly released debut album Bad Happy (Trans Ruin/Dark Wolf Records).
Echo & the Bunnymen’s best songs have always swelled with hopeless romance weighed against distress and an almost creepy sense of longing. The sweeping mood of their groundbreaking early ’80s records has steadily evaporated since their mid-’90s reformation, but concise pop tendencies have grown in its wake. The Fountain isn’t poorly executed, it’s just a bit samey. Ian McCulloch’s dark croon in “Shroud of Turin” and the title track evoke everything that ever made the group so fantastic. And Will Sergeant’s flourishing melodies are equally evocative in “Life of a Thousand Crimes,” the album’s strongest number. But 25 years ago these would have been killer B-sides. As such, The Fountain always take a backseat to such ’80s staples as Crocodiles, Porcupine, and Ocean Rain. (Great American) 3 stars out of 5
