Spencer Grammer cannot believe how long she went without learning to play an instrument. It was more of an intermittent hobby, but mostly something she enjoyed watching other people do. When an injury caused lasting damage to her right hand, she was encouraged to play the guitar as a form of rehabilitation. Music became her outlet, and collaborating with multi-instrumentalist and songwriter Davis IL became a fully realized project.

Belle and Chain came out of the idea that Grammer was disenchanted by her own name and wanted a music endeavor that stood on its own. Although the project originally started with another collaborator, meeting Davis IL at a party brought forth an opportunity where he later invited her to a cover night to perform “Cry Like a Baby” by The Box Tops. In that performance was a chemistry neither were anticipating.

“She had a good, natural stage presence that a lot of rock and roll musicians don’t really have,” he said. “To be able to tell a story on stage is really important.”

Grammer is an expert in storytelling, from her acting work to her Master’s in Screenwriting. She said she always kept a journal and wrote poetry, which has helped her as a songwriter. She approaches songwriting from the same perspective, noticing how having that background has helped build her artistry.

She found herself along for the ride as Davis IL toured with Barns Courtney and The Struts, where she studied their performances. That tour bus is where they wrote their first song together, the upcoming single, “Laila”. Before they knew it, they were on their own stages as Belle and Chain.

They have spent the better part of the last year perfecting their live show. They’ve tried a glam rock aesthetic, brought an entire horn section on stage, and finally found they prefer a more California western vibe.

They have also learned a lot about themselves while touring the country. Grammer realized that she has been taking more risks in the last year than ever before. She wasn’t sure if anyone would like her music or if she would be any good at it, but she learned that she is more resilient than she gave herself credit for.

“I just really didn’t imagine I’d be on a stage playing music,” she said. “I love to perform; I didn’t know I had the courage to do it in front of people.”

Davis IL learned to be more in the present. He has felt that time has moved so quickly since Belle and Chain started performing, and really wanted to make sure that he was taking in every moment.

“It can be a blur sometimes,” he said. “I think connecting with the crowd helps. We [sell] our own merch after every show so we can connect with them after too. I think that’s good for them and for us; it makes us feel good.”

Even on the nights where they think they messed up every song, there’s an ease on stage between the two of them. Perhaps some of the softer notes don’t come as easily or holding a guitar pick isn’t possible, but they are finding their groove and, more importantly, having a great time.

Their current goal is to release more music. Their first single, “Don’t You Worry Babe”, was the first song Grammer ever wrote and felt like a catchy introduction to the soundscape of what she wanted the project to be. The second single, “Laila”, is what Davis IL calls a sister song to “Don’t You Worry Babe”. They were both recorded at the same time and share a special bond.

Something each song will share is their imagery. Although Grammer admits some skepticism, she first did a tarot reading in New Orleans and found it fascinating that the World card had been pulled. The card represents completion and new beginnings, which also represents “Don’t You Worry Babe”. A recent tarot reading before their show in the Chicagoland area pulled the Three of Swords, symbolizing heartbreak and betrayal - which just so happens to be the story behind “Laila”, and the card she was planning on using for the artwork.

“I think it’s just nice to explore, to ask questions of where you want your life to go,” Grammer said. “Whether you use cards or you use prayer, it’s a very similar act. We don’t take a lot of time to be mindful of what we want to be doing with our lives or if [what] we’re doing is the right path, especially when you’re embarking on a new journey.”

Music may be a new endeavor for Grammer, but she understands its importance. On a personal level, it is a crucial part of her recovery. On a broader scale, it is a connection that can’t be felt anywhere else.

“I will play music whether I do it in front of people or not, but I will play forever,” she said. “It brings me so much peace and joy… I think you should always have music around, even if you’re not playing it. It’s part of our souls.”

When I was 3 years old, I saw a family friend play the violin and I instantly fell in love. I remember watching her thinking that her and her violin were made of magic. I asked my mom if I could take lessons and she said no because we already had a piano, so I could start playing that.

I started piano lessons at age 4 and loved it. Practicing was never a chore but always something I enjoyed. My dad would occasionally play accordion while I played piano and we would jam out songs by The Beatles and The Band.

From a young age I used poetry as a coping mechanism and solace from a pretty hectic childhood. I would spend hours sitting outside writing poems but I never thought to put my words together with music. When I was around 10, I saw a photo of Alanis Morissette sitting at home on her couch with her guitar and a notebook spread out in front of her and a pencil in hand and I thought to myself, ‘wow, I want to do exactly that.’

I started writing music by sitting on my swing outside and just singing songs to myself that I would write in my head. Eventually when I was around 14 I started to get bored of playing classical piano. I started to better understand chord structures and started putting lyrics and piano together.

Once I started writing my own music, it started taking up more and more of my life until it became just about the only thing that drove everything else. Suddenly in my mid 20s I was hit with a need to re-evaluate - did I even really like this thing that I centred my life around? Did I really want to make music, and if so, why? I spent the following few years exploring other art forms and avenues until I coincidentally landed a music teaching job that drew me back. It re- inspired me and I began to write my next album. Seeing kids experience music in the ways I felt as a 3-year-old watching the alchemy of that girl playing her violin brought me back to the core of my love.

All this to say - I am not sure I can place one moment that I knew I wanted to make music, but rather several, and I could ramble on with even more that have inspired and re-inspired me. I hope that perhaps my desire to make music will be a lifelong journey with many, many more moments to come.

 
For six decades, Eve Plumb has graced television screens and stages through commercials, sitcoms, made-for-TV movies, voiceover roles and much more. Her unique experience is chronicled through her recently released memoir, Happiness Included: Jan Brady and Beyond.

Recognized on a global scale as the middle child on the television sitcom The Brady Bunch, her work before, after and during the show is recollected in just over 300 pages. She shares the behind-the-scenes story of her colorful Hollywood career and her off-camera life along the way, complete with photos from her private archives.

Plumb’s storytelling is as visual as the art she creates. Turning a page is as descriptive as watching a home movie. The reader can walk through her childhood home, hear the waves crash near the family’s Malibu cottage and feel the love that her parents had for one another.

It was also heartwarming to read excerpts from letters and planners her parents wrote in and held onto. The meticulous detailing kept by her parents was clearly passed down to their daughter and assisted in her recounting of her childhood.

The attention to detail is, of course, deeply appreciated as she shares her memories of life as Jan Brady. The reader can visualize all six children crammed into a platform at the top of the iconic staircase that actually led to nowhere, or all nine castmates gathered around and learning to needlepoint. Plumb’s recollection of her time on the show is just as wholesome as the actual episodes.

Something that stands out greatly in each chapter is her gratitude. Her parents were the first to instill a sense of deeper understanding, which was further ingrained in her by her television parents. She would recognize the little things that people would do - like her mother giving holiday gifts to the crew or an actress being mindful of everyone’s time. The stories she shared were all valuable life lessons for her and how she wanted to leave a mark on the world.

Even at a young age, she recognized her interest in wanting to do something that could help people. As a child, she didn’t fully understand how sitcoms could make a difference. With only serious roles leading up to The Brady Bunch, it took her a bit to grasp the concept of bringing unserious storylines to people who needed an escape.

During her time on The Brady Bunch, her mother taught her another valuable lesson of saying no. Professionalism was already so deeply established as she had been raised around more adults than children, but standing up for herself and knowing what is best for her is just one of many reasons why her parents were so crucial to her career.

Graphic created by Hard Pass Creative

For those that have covered Wizard World (currently Fan Expo) conventions as a journalist over the last 17 years, there is a pretty good chance that Jerry Milani is the person to thank for their coverage. As a well-respected member of the community, he has dedicated much of his career to finding the best people to share the best stories.

Milani received his degree from Fordham University and immediately launched his career in athletic public relations. After stints at PR firms and universities, he found an opportunity with a new mixed martial arts league called International Fight League. IFL only lasted a few years, but the CEO, Gareb Shamus, was also the CEO for Wizard World, and invited Milani to join the team.

The comic convention started as Wizard Press in 1991, as the publisher for the monthly magazine, Wizard. They expanded into conventions in 1997 after purchasing Chicago Comicon and became the template for creating events that represented all areas of pop culture fandom. Milani had attended Wizard World prior to becoming their public relations manager, representing IFL by bringing the athletes to the convention and setting up a ring right in the middle of Hall A. It became a stepping stone to merge the sport into pop culture.

Even though he wasn’t an entertainment publicist, he found similarities between subjects. He also found himself amongst some of his heroes. The Six Million Dollar Man was one of his favorite television series when he was younger, and one of his first conventions was where he was able to meet one of its stars, Richard Anderson. It felt as though one minute he was watching Batman and The Incredible Hulk and the next minute he was working alongside Adam West and Lou Ferrigno.

He recalls a point in his career where, within a span of 24 hours, he had spoken to Richard Anderson, Lou Ferrigno, Henry Winkler and Adam West to coordinate for an upcoming convention. If anyone would have told his childhood self that one day he would meet his heroes, he would have never believed it.

“I thought to myself, if this were 1978, I would have been the coolest guy in the entire world,” he said. “I still felt, 30 years later, that I was still the coolest guy in the world.”

Part of his routine is determining whether or not an outlet can attend the convention as a member of the press. When it comes to the application process, Milani doesn’t immediately decide based on follower count or circulation, although it is a consideration as he does have to justify his decisions. His deciding factors revolve around topic and influence. Are they familiar with popular culture? Will their audience view this content and want to attend a convention because of it? He also pays attention to frequency of publishing. It may have a larger number of readers, but are they posting consistently?

“There's the element of, yes, is someone going to write a story beforehand and support that particular show. That's important,” he said. “Is it someone who is in that world so the general population who follows or reads that publication has some interest in the pop culture world? The pop culture world is a bigger world than it's ever been, so it doesn't have to mean that they're Star Wars fans or they're fans of a particular genre, but is the typical reader of that publication someone who would be interested in our show?”

He contributes his vetting process to a tennis tournament for his first real client out of college. At the time, he was approving local news anchors from a smaller market. He would learn that they wouldn’t be local news anchors in Palm Springs forever, and in 10 years time, he would have contacts in higher places.

“The next thing I knew, the woman who ran the anchor desk at Channel 6 in Palm Springs was in Milwaukee, and then she was on MSNBC,” he said. “All of a sudden, I've got someone at MSNBC who I know who I helped, who trusts me. Not just that I know them, but they trust that I cared as much about them being the anchor in Palm Springs, whether it was a bigger market or not. You always try to treat folks the right way.”

Being treated the right way is exactly how, after covering Wizard World for a few years with a different publication, I asked Jerry if I could cover the convention with a different outlet - my own. 2017 was the first year Black is the New AP Style covered Wizard World Chicago and spoke to Lou Ferrigno, Barry Bostwick and Loren Lester.

Maintaining working relationships with journalists is only part of his routine. By working with guests of conventions and their teams, he makes sure that every interaction is professional.

View the photo gallery here.

Just four nights before the release of Maya Hawke’s fourth album, MAITREYA CORSO, a sold-out audience wrapped around the Romanesque Revival building that is Chicago’s Thalia Hall. The historic landmark was the ideal stage to share most of these songs for the first time. In fact, Hawke even mentioned that the venue was a dream of hers to play.

“It’s everything I thought it was cracked up to be,” she said.

The intimate evening included Christian Lee Hutson on guitar and Odessa Jorgensen on violin, whose harmonies paired beautifully with Hawke. The trio sat center stage adorned with a vibrant red rug and alongside a handful of acoustic guitars. Instead of a stereotypical grand entrance filled with epic drums and flashing lights, they quietly took their seats before making an important announcement to Chicago locals: Hawke had her first shot of Jeppson's Malört the previous evening.

After comparing the rite of passage to grapefruit and rubber bands, it was clear that the evening would not just include music but also storytelling. Nearly every song from MAITREYA CORSO was performed, although not in track listing order, and accompanied by a behind-the-scenes look into each song’s inspiration. She described the album as a “Love of My Life” to “Dream House” journey, explaining that the first and last tracks of the album are the perfect bookends to an album that was meant to be about work/life balance and turned into an album about falling in love.

In addition to sharing the personal elements of the new songs, she also shared some of the inspiration she found along the way. Creativity sparked from Leonard Cohen’s “How To Speak Poetry”. She wanted to write a song that made her feel the same way she feels about Paul Simon’s “Still Crazy After All These Years”. A line from “Terms of Estrangement” came from Hutson’s therapist. The more she shared, the more the evening shied away from being a conventional live performance.

Earlier in the night she explained her technique for calming her nerves as well as confessed that she was conquering her fear of playing guitar on tour for the first time. The audience gave her an unspoken permission to be as vulnerable as she wished, and in turn she gave them a part of her heart.

The crowd felt that connection. Mobile devices mostly stayed tucked away in pockets and purses. Families familiar with her acting work looked on in awe. Groups of friends shouted back the lyrics of the encore songs, “Luna Moth” and “Thérèse”, from her 2022 album, MOSS. A mother smiled as she watched her young daughter, with glitter-covered cheeks and dip-dyed blue-green hair, experience the magic of her first concert.

It’s clear that Hawke felt that connection too. There was always a hint of a smile, which grew as she sang directly to Hutson. Her most radiant smile took over as she sang the first words of “Thérèse”, as the harmonies of three turned into the harmonies of hundreds.

“Thank you for your joy and interest in listening to new songs,” she said. “I just think you rock.”

When Arden Alexa began writing the songs that would make up her debut album, HOPE YOU’RE WATCHING, there was initially no intention to create an album at all. The intention was focused on what she was writing, and the more songs she wrote, the more she felt something began to take shape.

It was important to her that authenticity be at the forefront of her songwriting. As a self-professed “control freak (in the best way)”, she writes all of her material and stays closely involved in its production to ensure every element supports her overall vision. She said that authenticity unintentionally became a foundational pillar of this album as each song was written as honestly as possible.

“Songwriting for me has always been an outlet, a form of therapy, and each of these songs was just that - an emotion or experience I needed to process,” she said. “As the creative process progressed and the album began taking [shape], I focused even more on maintaining authenticity in hopes of giving the listeners something truly raw and real.”

In a way, her authentic songwriting comes from her theater kid background. The storytelling aspect of theater stuck with her the most, and clearly still impacts her today. The other aspect of theater that she enjoys bringing into her music is the drama. The second track on the album, “BREAK MY HEART”, opens with the line, “I live for the drama, for the fun.” It’s one of her favorite songs she’s written thus far, and gives a nod to her roots.

“Growing up on stage and being influenced by classical music as well as pop artists created a deep love of theatricality in me, a desire to hold nothing back and express everything fully,” she said. “This album has been a true realization of that; a chance for me to let go of any fear and just allow myself to feel, to have fun with every emotion and story.”

Some of her favorite musicians created albums that she can listen to without skipping a track. For Alexa, these master storytellers used carefully crafted melodies, lyrics and motifs across their songs to convey the emotions of their stories. Because of this, she keeps the listener in mind just as much as herself when it comes to her music.

“With every project, even as my sound continues to evolve and change, I strive to express my feelings in a way that immerses the listener and allows them to feel like a part of the story as well,” she said.

Her debut full-length album charts her growth from teenager to young adult. Particularly on the title track, she expresses the biggest lesson she’s learned so far: not letting the opinions of others define her. The song was written at a time where she found herself unwilling to let go of grudges she held towards people who judged her, and by doing so she let them have power over her life. It wasn’t until she was able to let go of those feelings of insecurity that she was able to write the lyrics that would ultimately free herself from trying to please others.

“HOPE YOU’RE WATCHING” held the most emotional weight for Alexa, making the recording process feel long and difficult at certain points. The message behind the song was too important for her not to get every detail, every instrument and every note exactly right. By putting in the time and energy, it ended up becoming one of her favorite songs on the album, and subsequently, the song she is most proud of.

The album as a whole pushed her to be the most vulnerable she’s ever been in the studio, which was exciting and new but also uncomfortable. Thankfully, she had the right people to enjoy the journey with.

“Because of the wonderfully safe and warm environment created by my producers, Simon Jay and Luke Shrestha, I felt comfortable enough to explore new sounds, new feelings and new aspects of my songwriting,” she said.

I don’t think there was one perfectly cinematic moment where I suddenly knew I wanted to make music. It was more like a slow invasion. Music got into everything until it became impossible to separate it from who I was.

In the late 80s, I was obsessed with early hip-hop like Public Enemy, De La Soul, N.W.A and Doug E. Fresh. At the same time, we were smashing out Appetite for Destruction by Guns N’ Roses and getting just as fired up by that. My brother and I would take a boombox down to our den, blast all this music and imagine one day doing something just as powerful ourselves.

Then I went deeper. I got obsessed with The Beatles and The Beach Boys and learned every song I could on guitar and bass. Then Queen got me with Freddie Mercury’s insane vocal power and pure frontman energy. The Red Hot Chili Peppers cracked something open in me. Blood Sugar Sex Magik still feels like one of the greatest albums ever made to me. Then I discovered Soundgarden, Nirvana, punk, grunge, skating, rebellion and that whole beautiful mess of energy and attitude.

Music was never just sound to me. It was the full package. The records, the artwork, the style, the danger, the fashion, the posters, the feeling. I was making zines as a kid, designing tapes and CDs, making posters for live shows, obsessing over the worlds that bands built around their songs. Looking back now, that was the start of everything I still do, whether that’s making music with Bleed Electric or running RIOT, the New York creative agency I built. It all comes from the same place - sound and image hit hardest when they collide.

Music became personal when I learned to play my first song on guitar. It was “Wild Thing” by The Troggs, and it probably took me a couple of weeks as a kid to get it right. Learning guitar is hard. Your fingers hurt, it’s frustrating and that’s where a lot of people quit. I didn’t. Once I got those chords and that rhythm down, something shifted. Music stopped feeling like this magical thing other people did and started feeling like something I could do too.

A lot of it started in my bedroom as a kid. I had the big room in the house, but I also had to share it with my younger brother, so I’d be in there surrounded by possibility: a desk, a ZX Spectrum where we programmed simple music, a stereo with two inputs so we could record clean left-and-right tracks to tape, my dad’s acoustic guitar, instrumentals from B-sides and whatever strange idea we felt like chasing that day. I’d sample voices, play guitar, sing, rap over instrumentals, experiment constantly. That room was my first laboratory.

Even now, that’s how I approach music. It’s one of the reasons Bleed Electric doesn’t feel like a traditional band. For us, it’s never just been about writing songs. It’s about building worlds through sound, visuals, mythology and mood. We recently released our second EP, Let The Invasion Begin, in reverse as part of a bigger idea: rolling the Bleed Electric catalogue out backwards, peeling the story back layer by layer. In the next couple of weeks, we’re also dropping the music video for “Gravity”, which feels right because that track carries a sense of release - breaking free from whatever was holding you down.

That part matters to me. The best music shows people that creativity doesn’t have to stay in one lane. A song can be a feeling, a visual, a philosophy, a film, a statement, a world. That’s how I’ve always approached it. It’s also what I bring into RIOT. Our work as a creative agency is shaped by that same belief that sound is never secondary. Audio changes how people feel. It changes how they remember.

I’ve always related to the world through being an artist.

A while ago, I found an old school project from 1st grade. “When I grow up, I want to study bugs and be an artist.” I’ve found that it’s important for an artist to listen to their inner child.

I chose the double bass as a 12-year-old. To put it simply, I felt a calling towards it. Some along the way have guided me, while others have shamed me for not being x, y or z.

I don’t believe in making anyone feel like they’re not enough. Noble mothers don’t rank or judge their creations. They nurture. There is so much sound to take in as a musician, but along the way, I’ve found the importance of filtering out the noise.

Free improvisation was my greatest teacher and I learned to connect to others through deep listening and making space for all vibrations. I sometimes have a hard time talking to people, but I don’t have any difficulty feeling for them.

My imagination goes to many places and as I’ve gotten older, I’ve indulged deeper darkness and deeper fantasy.

Ironically, I’ve been cruel to myself in the name of music. I forget that there is only love. I’ve learned music transforms suffering into compassion.

There was no single moment in time where I knew I wanted to make music, and sometimes, I don’t want to make music. Sometimes, I hate the music I make. Sometimes, I hate myself.

But I have accepted my role of being a creator and creative. Whenever I have any doubt about “how it’ll go”, I remind myself that I’ll be creating as long as I am alive.

I try to purge the desire to achieve status as much as I can, but the society we live in doesn’t seem to give much of a shit about equity. I recently heard actor Josh Radnor on Rainn Wilson’s podcast talk about the spotlight - not as a prize, but as a tool to expose what’s hidden in the dark. This resonated with me. Maybe art can reflect principles beyond the aesthetic. Maybe we create and collaborate to remind each other to listen and to love.

Pursuing an answer to these questions inspires me to be an artist and make music.

My feature here will end with a cliche, but it doesn’t mean it’s not true: it’s all an ongoing process.

I know my calling and I know who I am.

Keith R.A. DeCandido was a self-proclaimed fantasy nerd before he was born. His parents were fans of science fiction, particularly Star Trek, and passed that admiration down to their son. Before long, he would be immersed in several sci-fi and fantasy series as more than just a fan.

His primary reading material growing up was sci-fi and fantasy novels, with four authors in his rotation: Ursula K. Le Guin, Robert A. Heinlein, P.G. Wodehouse and J.R.R. Tolkien. Their contributions to the genre became inspiration for DeCandido’s own writing career. His first original novel, Dragon Precinct, became a series that has spanned over two decades. He has also published novels in dozens of popular sci-fi and fantasy series including Star Trek, Doctor Who, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Supernatural and many more.

If he wasn’t reading novels, he was engrossed in superhero comics. As early as high school, DeCandido would spend weekends in Manhattan attending comic conventions and adding to his collection. In college he found I-CON, a convention held on college campuses in Long Island. The public access cable television show he co-hosted and co-produced, The Chronic Rift, also attended several conventions to promote the show and interview comic creators.

These days, DeCandido isn’t much of a collector (“I collect debt, like most proper American adults.”) other than collecting an insane amount of writing credits. HIs latest series, Supernatural Crimes Unit: NYPD is an urban fantasy series about a division of the New York Police Department that handles crimes involving magic and monsters. His other series, The Adventures of Bram Gold, was based on his time working for the New York Census Bureau. He spent time visiting areas of his hometown that he never knew existed, which led to deep dives into research that he is still trying to figure out how to write about.

As his writing career progressed, he began attending conventions as an author. He currently does upwards of 20 shows a year, including stops this year at C2E2 and a convention he has attended almost every year since 1988, Dragon Con.

“I’ve given up on such outdated concepts such as sleep,” he joked. “Sleep is for wimps. Happy, well-adjusted wimps, but wimps nonetheless.”

Thanks to his career path, he has had many chances to work with and meet people he admired during his youth, much like convention goers get to do each weekend. One moment in particular stands out to him as equal parts legendary and embarrassing: an interaction with one of his literary idols, Ursula K. Le Guin. He said the one and only time they met he made a total ass out of himself, chuckling as he recalled just how hard he fanned out over her.

Interaction amongst convention goers is something he thoroughly enjoys. When someone walks past his table, recognizing one of the displayed books and stopping in their tracks, he looks forward to the exclamations of “I’ve read this book!” or “I had no idea you’d be here this weekend!” It feels almost like catching up with an old friend.

From high school attendee to literary guest, Keith R.A. DeCandido knows a thing or two about a comic convention. The books that line his table are full of familiar characters, enticing passerby to stop and get to know the author himself. Conversations will be had, books will be purchased; a love for science fiction will be continued.