The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
the b-side
Thursday, November 3, 2016 — 3B

 Charli XCX is no newcomer 
to the pop scene, and she’s 
not pulling any punches in 
“After the Afterparty.” Featur-
ing Atlanta-based rapper Lil 
Yachty, the song jumps from 
sickly sweet piano pop song 
to rampant party anthem in 
a matter of seconds. This is 

an unashamed, straight-to-
the-point ode to partying all 
night and not regretting it the 
next morning. Similar in tone 
to Miley Cyrus’s “We Can’t 
Stop” (in fact, both videos are 
directed by Diane Martel), the 
lyrics capture the true essence 
of partying, albeit without the 
most quotable words.
 The chorus is definitely the 
highlight, with repetitions of 
“we’re all in love” — destined 
to be repeated at many a house 
party in the next few months. 
Charli XCX’s voice is near-
flawless for this kind of music; 

the harmonies and overlay-
ing vocals really add to her 
appeal as the best party friend 
that you could want. Even Lil 
Yachty’s verse fits well, and the 
inclusion never seems forced, 
like many rap verses in pop 
songs do.
 References to Rihanna and 
partying all weekend mean 
this song was likely never 
something serious. Charli XCX 
is known for her tongue-in-
cheek electropop, and that’s 
just what you get from this 
high-energy collab.

- MEGAN WILLIAMS

SINGLE REVIEW

A-

“After the Afterparty (feat. Lil 

Yachty)”

Charlie XCX

“Led Zeppelin, ‘The Ocean.’ I 

heard it and I totally freaked out. 
I told my dad I had to play drums. 
He told me I stuck my finger 
right in his chest and said, ‘I’m a 
drummer, man.’ ”

This 
is 
Theo 

Katzman 
— 

drummer, guitarist, 
singer 
and 
2007 

graduate from the 
University’s 
jazz 

program 
— 
best 

known 
around 

Tree Town for his 
work with the funk 
group Vulfpeck and 
former electro-pop 
group, My Dear Disco, currently 
on tour for his next solo album, 
due for release in January. For the 
first time since 2011, Katzman is 
returning to Ann Arbor for a solo 
performance at the Blind Pig this 
Saturday, Nov. 5. 

It has been a swift climb to 

popularity for Katzman, who for 
six years has been collaborating 
with Vulfpeck, while concurrently 
working on his own projects. 
Since graduating, he has been a 
part of the aforementioned My 
Dear Disco, written and produced 
music with the likes of Darren 
Criss and Ann Arbor’s Charlene 
Kaye, released his first solo album 
Heartbreak Hits and collaborated 
on six Vulfpeck projects — four 
EPs and two full-length albums.

Impressive, yes, but even more 

so when considering the broad 
array of genres encompassed 
under all these projects. From 
funk to rock to pop, Katzman has 
covered and mastered it all in his 
written and collaborative work. 
Vulfpeck brings the funk and 
Katzman comes in solo with the 
pop and rock, not to mention a 
moment of Irish-American fusion 
when he toured with The Olllam 
in 2014.

“Nowadays I’m making the 

kind of music I want to make both 
with my solo project and with 
Vulfpeck,” Katzman said. “But my 
thing is more of a rock thing, and 
Vulfpeck is more of a funk thing.”

Originally from Long Island, 

Katzman grew up surrounded 
by music. A professional jazz 
trumpetist, his dad played in the 
studio band during the Johnny 
Carson years at “The Tonight 
Show,” and his grandparents, 
classical musicians, performed 
in orchestras like The Detroit 
Symphony and The Philadelphia 
Orchestra. Music obviously runs 
in his veins, but Katzman insists 
there was nothing forcing him 
into creative arts; he simply found 
himself there by the booming 
progression of John Bonham’s 
groove.

“(Because of my dad) I knew 

it was possible to have a life in 
music. A lot of kids don’t know 
it’s possible, and that makes a big 
difference in whether you take the 
step to try to focus on it,” Katzman 
said.

Katzman formed his first band 

in high school — a little indie 
thing by the name of Lovango. 
They were deep underground, 
too big for Myspace or Bandcamp, 
but not too big for inexplicably 
strange names. From there, he 
entered the University’s Jazz and 
Contemplative Studies program, 
where he contemplated jazz with 
a focus in drums — his weapon of 
choice.

“I was in the Jazz program, and 

I was definitely a lost soul there,” 

Katzman said. “I didn’t feel like 
a jazz player even though I liked 
jazz a lot … I was always kind of 
trying to start a rock band.”

Not exclusively rock, My Dear 

Disco/Ella Riot was a product 
of this pursuit, where Katzman 
played 
with 
future 
Vulfpeck 

members Joe Dart and Joey 

Dosik. 
After 

touring with them 
for three years, 
Katzman 
sought 

his 
own 
solo 

career, beginning 
work on his debut 
album 
Romance 

Without Finance in 
2009 and releasing 
it in 2011. While 
on tour, Katzman 
performed 
with 

Love Massive, a band that also 
included Dart, after releasing 
the first full-length album from 
Vulfpeck that same year.

And with The Beautiful Game, 

Vulfpeck’s second LP, coming out 
only weeks ago, Katzman has once 
again hit the road to promote his 
next solo album after writing and 
producing both albums over the 
course of the last two years. Two 
different sounds at the exact same 
time, but with a similar range 
of artists collaborating — Dart, 
Dosik and Julian Allen, the three 
of whom will be at the Blind Pig, 
along with Woody Goss and Tyler 
Duncan, a producer who recorded 
much of the album at his home 
studio in Ann Arbor. The uniting 
thread between all of these 
absurdly talented artists? Just that 
— absurdity and Ann Arbor.

“It’s sort of like in each different 

project there’s been different 
levels of going back to Ann Arbor,” 
Katzman continued. “It’s a scene. 
Ann Arbor is a great breeding 
ground for the future arties of the 
world.”

So let’s bring on the rock 

now, because despite Vulfpeck’s 
undeniable 
mastery 
of 
funk, 

Katzman’s here to play a rock 
show and give some advice about 
life and the blind chances he takes 
as a multi-instrumentalist in it. 
His next album is “more rock and 
a little heavier” than the acoustic 
lightness of his first; it’s more rock 
‘n’ roll.

“I’m hoping people think (the 

different genres are) interesting 
and not just confusing, but that’s 
the risk you take by just being 
alive,” Katzman said. “People 
project sometimes that they’re 
trying to fit into a particular 
mold because maybe it seems 
like it’s more marketable. But 
our generation will be testing 
the limits of this because we are 
the iTunes generation. We’re the 
kids who grew up listening to 
all different kinds of music, who 
grew up listening to the greatest 
hits.”

And he’s right. In the digital 

age, we have every kind of music 
at our fingertips for the first time 
in history. Not only does this 
give us unbelievable power to 
converge different sounds, but 
it also encourages the testing 
of limits with what can be 
mixed and messed with. There’s 
boundless opportunity to derive 
influence from Funk Brothers 
and Frank Ocean; there are 
endless occasions to match wits 
with James Brown and Jimmy 
Page, as long as there’s something 
to hold the sounds together. For 
Katzman, that something is the 
lyrics.

“What will glue everything 

together is good songwriting. If 
the songs are good it shouldn’t 

matter what the styles are; 
you should be able to pull 
from anywhere in that realm,” 
Katzman said. “Lyrics are my 
favorite 
element 
of 
writing, 

and they’re usually where I get 
my musical ideas. I try to get a 
concept and go from there.”

Maybe that’s why Katzman 

has perfected the pop-rock song. 
Listen to “Backpocket” off of 
Vulfpeck’s Thrill of the Arts, a 
track Katzman wrote, and tell 
me you don’t want to dance. Now 
listen to songs like “Hard Work” 
and “Brooklyn” and tell me you 
don’t want to dance harder. It’s 
not the same funk of the Vulf, but 
it’s the rock Elvis brought when 
he started shaking his hips. It’s 
popular music done right.

“I think quality music is 

becoming very popular based on 
its own merit again,” Katzman 
said. “The independent artists 
movement is finally starting to get 
its own footing with the Internet 
now that streaming is more 
widespread and the technology 
is more readily available to create 
art for everybody. I think good 
music’s coming back.”

This isn’t your Top 40 pop 

that strains the ears with every 
repetitive 
chord 
progression 

after the next. This isn’t your 
New 98.7 radio trash. This is your 
“White Picket Castle” crying self 
who wants to feel those deeply 
buried emotions in the pit of 
your stomach, in your gut; it’s the 
person who wants to shamelessly 
dance to a modern rock song 
without the sub-genres’ smirks 
lingering in your peripheral. 
This is music that makes you 
want to feel expressively and 
unrelentingly.

“I 
want 
people 
to 
feel 

something. I want people to 
feel inspired and moved into 
their 
own 
creative 
power,” 

Katzman said. “I think inspired 
art inspires, and I try to make 
music that emotionally resonates 
with me and try to extrapolate 
real feelings that are human 
whether it’s my own feelings or 
someone else’s and turn that into 
a compelling piece of art. So when 
I play live I really aim to transfer 
that to the audience, the same 
kind of emotion that went into 
making the music.”

And sometimes that feeling 

requires one to sell one’s soul 
to Billy Joel — c’est la vie. But 
no matter the cost, come join 
Katzman, Dosik, Dart and Allen 
in their journey to rock. Try and 
see it as a humanitarian effort or 
a certain kind of charity work.

“Live performance of music 

specifically can bring people 
together; it can bring people in 
better harmony with themselves. 
Not 
that 
I’m 
doing 
it 
for 

humanitarian reasons, I just love 
to rock, I’m a rock dude, and I 
need to play — that’s not the same 
as real charity work. It’s rock n’ 
roll.”

Listen to Dosik sing his soulful 

tunes and witness Joe Dart tug at 
the bass like he’s playing strings 
of a heart as Katzman reminisces 
on his time passing out in the 
green room of the Blind Pig 
after “I-don’t-even-know what 
concert.” Come for the music, 
stay for the living proof that some 
unbelievably talented individuals 
survive to tell their tale of the 
University, even if they lost their 
documented proof.

“I can’t find my diploma, so I 

hope that I don’t actually have to 
present it to anyone,” Katzman 
concluded. “Trust me though, I 
did college.”

ARTIST
PROFILE

IN

NATALIE ZAK

Daily Community Culture Editor

Do you ever think about where 

the loaf of bread you just bought 
comes from? Who grew the wheat 
and grinded it into flour? Where 
was it baked and by whom? If 
you’re like most people, then the 
answer is likely “No.”

In today’s world (the first world 

that is), food is pervasively readily 
available for consumption. We 
don’t necessarily think much 
about where our food comes 
from, because we don’t have to. 
Society has become fixated on and 
structured around the practicality 
and ease of mass consumption. 
We have fast food and cupcake 
vending machines, frozen meals 
and restaurant take out. 

But when asked to recall what 

some of our most meaningful 
experiences around a table are 
with friends or family, we’ll likely 
answer with “eating a meal.” At 
least that’s what the students 
who attended the first of three 
cooking workshops hosted by the 
University of Michigan Hillel’s 
Rabbi Lisa Stella this past Sunday 
would tell you.

Before I go any further, I’d first 

like to say that I’m by no means a 
religious or very spiritual person 
and my intention here isn’t to 
proselytize. I was approached 
with the opportunity to share 
my love of cooking while also 
exploring its connection to my 
cultural roots through Rabbi Lisa’s 
cooking seminar. The seminar 
itself is intended to help students 
interested in hosting others for 
Shabbat meals feel comfortable 
cooking by giving them the tools 
and recipes to create both a meal 
and welcome others into their 
homes, while also exploring Jewish 
studies related to cooking and 
hospitality (for those interested in 
coming to the next session, you can 
sign up here). Shabbat is the weekly 
day of rest, which different Jewish 
families celebrate differently.

I gladly took on this opportunity 

to 
examine 
food 
through 
a 

different lens. After all, I am a food 
writer and examining different 
cultural 
practices 
surrounding 

food is part of the job. And through 
the inextricable link between food 
and culture, I have gained a new 
perspective on not only the way I 

cook and consume food, but also 
the way I share it with others.

In the first session, students 

gathered together to learn a 
challah recipe (a Jewish egg 
bread) and discussed the symbolic 
meaning of bread as sustenance. 
While we kneaded, mixed and 
waited for our bread to bake we 
learned to make a few easy dips 
for the bread (recipes below). We 
roasted a head of garlic, smashed 
chickpeas and combined them 
with tahini and green onions for 
a salad and blended white beans 
with garlic and oil for a creamy 
hummus-like dip (all in under 20 
minutes!).

After our rolls turned golden 

brown in the oven and the kitchen 
was filled with the sweet, rich 
smell of baked bread we sat around 
the dining room table, enjoyed the 
product of our culinary labor and 
discussed some Jewish texts.

I was surprised by what I 

learned. I hadn’t known what to 
expect, considering the last time I 
was exposed to any sort of Jewish 
learning was back when I still 
had braces (at the age of 13, prior 
to my Bat Mitzvah). We began 
by discussing the significance 
of the blessing over challah (or 
the “Hamotzi”) — something 
my mother had instructed me in 
saying at every Shabbat dinner 
when I was younger. I’d never 
considered what the rhythmic 
words actually meant. It was 
just something I had to do before 
eating on Friday nights, a measure 
put in place before I could indulge 
in our meal.

I learned that bread in Judaism 

is a spiritual food. It represents 
our ability to create something 
from nothing to sustain ourselves 
— something we don’t often 
recognize when we purchase 
bread at a bakery without seeing 
the work that went into making 
it. How we get our food now, for 
the most part, is so removed from 
the ways in which it’s grown and 
made, especially if we don’t cook it 
ourselves. This underappreciation 
of food in our society makes us 
forget the precarious balance of 
our position within this world. 
Whether you’re religious or not 
(like myself) there’s great value in 
recognizing that our food comes 
from somewhere and had to be 
made by someone.

Although cooking is one way 

that helps remind us of this labor, 
the simple practice of mindfulness 
when we eat — sharing a meal with 
others, setting apart a time and 
space in our days for a meal or sim-
ply taking a moment to acknowl-
edge and appreciate the food we’re 
eating — helps keep us grounded. 
When we’re able to examine the 
seemingly trivial aspects of our 
day-to-day lives, we’re then able 
to consider phenomena of greater 
importance.

Recipes:
Challah (recipe from notder-

bypie.com)

Makes 2 small loaves or 1 large 

loaf.

½ cup warm water
1 packet (2 ¼ tsp) yeast
1 tsp sugar
3 tbsp sugar
1 tsp salt
3-4 cups flour
1/3 cup vegetable oil
¼ cup water
2 eggs
For brushing:
1 egg
1 tbsp honey (or water)
Directions:
Proof yeast in ½ cup water. Mix 

flour, salt and sugar together. In a 
separate bowl mix together wet 
ingredients: eggs, oil and water.

Add wet ingredients to the yeast 

and stir. Add 2 cups of flour to the 
yeast mixture, mix well, then add 
the remaining flour.

Knead well for about 5-7 

minutes. Cover and let rise 45 
minutes. Braid or knot challah and 
let rise an additional 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 375º F. Brush 

with egg wash and bake for 20-22 
minutes until the top is golden 
brown.

Rav Lisa’s White Bean Dip
1 can of Cannellini beans
1-2 cloves garlic
¼ cup olive oil (plus more for 

drizzling on top)

2 Tbsp water
Salt to taste
½ teaspoon dried thyme (or 

any other herbs you have on hand, 
optional)

Directions:
Pulse together the garlic and oil, 

and about half of the can of beans 
to blend well. Add the remaining 
beans and herbs and blend on low 
for 15 seconds. Add water if needed 
for desired consistency.

Serve with drizzle of olive oil 

and a sprinkle of coarse salt. 

SHIR AVINADAV
Daily Food Columnist

Knead to know — mixing 
spirituality and cooking

Prepping Shabbat dinner with Michigan Hillel’s Rabbi Lisa Stella

FOOD COLUMN

COMMUNITY CULTURE PREVIEW

When God called out to 

Abraham, Abraham responded 
simply, “Here I am,” a response 
that brings equal 
parts clarity and 
confusion. It’s so 
simple 
and 
yet 

provokes questions 
like, “Who is he?” 
and 
“Where 
is 

here?” and “Why is 
he there?”

Those 
words, 

and the mess they 
bear, serve as the title of Jonathan 
Safran Foer’s latest book. It’s the 
first novel in over a decade from 
Foer, who will be at Rackham 
Auditorium on Friday for a 
reading and conversation with the 
director of the Helen Zell Writers 
Program, Douglas Trevor.

“Here I Am” follows the Bloch 

family — most closely, its boys, 
men and almost-men — as the 
family navigates death, divorce 
and bar mitzvahs. “Here I Am” is 
all about the placement of things. 
Physical place, emotional place 
and historical place mix and mess 
with each other.

“There’s a funny way in which a 

book can be an expression of one’s 
emotional place but it can also 
place you emotionally. It works 
in both directions,” Foer said in a 
phone interview. This emotional 
placement, 
he 
continued, 
is 

something he strives for in all his 
work.

“I 
wouldn’t 
say 
they’re 

autobiographical 
or 
cathartic 

or therapeutic, but that they’re 
expressive,” he said in reference 
to his novels.

“Here I Am” is a departure 

from Foer’s earlier work. 11 years 

later, he’s much 
closer to being the 
second-coming 
of Philip Roth his 
critics always said 
he should be.

“When I was 

younger 
I 
was 

more into magi-
cal realism and 
big visuals and 

big voices and now there’s some-
thing about a certain kind of pre-
cision … and dialogue that I like 
more,” Foer said.

His first two novels, “Every-

thing 
is 
Illuminated” 
and 

“Extremely Loud and Incred-
ibly Close,” have a whimsical and 
winding style. “Here I Am” has 
its feet more solidly on the earth; 
it’s grounded and sharply real.

Foer painstakingly paints the 

lives of the Blochs, from their 
“Miele vacuum, Vitamix blender, 
Misono knives” to their con-
sumption of “Freudian amounts 
of sushi.” He creates, through 
these meticulous details, a world 
that is so closely related to the 
present world. A world where the 
bodies of Syrian children wash 
up on beaches and Rihanna lyr-
ics can be a personal ethos.

“I don’t know that I’m any 

better at life than I was before 
I knew anything. Sometimes 

knowing things makes it harder,” 
Foer said in regards to the former 
image. The book grapples with 
the reconciliation of mundane 
tragedies — divorce, getting 
in trouble in Hebrew school, 
the death of an internet avatar 
— against the tragedies of the 
rest of the world. As the main 
character’s marriage unravels 
stateside, 
the 
Middle 
East 

unravels following devastating 
earthquakes hitting Israel and 
the West Bank.

With “Here I Am,” Foer 

creates quite the tangle of 
character and storylines, of ideas 
and questions. But it is not his 
intention to untie the knot their 
lives and issues create.

“I think for me a book is not 

like coming upon a jigsaw puzzle 
in the forest and saying, ‘Oh, 
let’s see if I can put this thing 
together,’” he said. “It’s more like 
coming upon … a leaf or a feather 
in a forest and saying, ‘What is 
this? Where did it come from?’”

The success of the novel, for 

Foer, lies not in its ability to 
answer big questions or solve 
big problems, but in its ability to 
capture him emotionally.

“I 
don’t 
really 
have 
any 

definition of good that I care 
about or even aim myself toward 
other than the book being a kind 
of expression of where I am in 
that period of time emotionally.”

Thus, the answer to the 

questions raised by the book’s 
title easily could be both Foer’s 
dining room in Brooklyn and the 
book itself. 

MADELEINE GAUDIN

Daily Arts Writer

Safran Foer discusses new novel

Zell Writers series to present the acclaimed author at Rackham

Jonathan Safran 

Foer

Friday at 7 p.m.

Rackham 
Auditorium

$12-$32

Theo Katzman 
& Joey Dosik

Saturday at 8 p.m.

The Blind Pig

$15 advance, $17 

day of show

18+

