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Xeno, Hence and Amy at the Cafe of
Love. Extra points if you spot the rod.
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| Live! 9 p.m. Saturday,
February 23, with Dance the Moon, $5. Luna’s
Café, 1414 16th St., 441-3931.
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"I’m
just going to say this and you can do what you want with
it,” Xeno tells the crowd at the True Love Coffeehouse. “They
cured cancer in 1938. It’s true. You can find all this stuff
on the Internet.”
He pulls out a digital recorder and announces that he will
play the miracle cancer-healing frequency. Some people laugh,
while others lean forward in curiosity. However, due to
technical difficulties or an AMA conspiracy, he’s unable to
locate the sample on his recorder. Shrugging, he stuffs it
into his pocket and the band launches into another song.
Afterward, he admits it was probably best that he didn’t
play the sound. “If word got out that Xenophilia cures cancer,
imagine the crowds!”
Xenophilia may not be music’s answer to chemotherapy, but
the band does maintain a curative mission. As explained on its
Internet outpost, xenophilia.com, “Xenophilia
means love of the strange or appreciation of the unusual.
Xenophilia is an antidote to xenophobia--the fear of
foreigners.”
In this spirit, jazz vocalist Amy Anne,
guitarist/singer/Web master Joe “Xeno” Scuderi and bassist
Hence Phillips have fearlessly examined the world’s strangest
mysteries (Who makes crop circles? Did man really land on the
moon? Why do fools fall in love?). Their insights are found on
their debut CD, Café of Love, on a self-titled Web site
that reads like an episode guide for Ripley’s Believe it or
Not, and in an ever-growing catalogue of relentlessly
clever, sing-along melodies. Spanning the reaches of human
experience from the pain of longing for a mate to the trials
of cloning one, Xenophilia vibrates at the intersection of
hilarious, poignant and bizarre.
As hilarious/poignant/bizarre goes unrecognized as a
musical genre, Xenophilia has had to be content with winning a
SAMMIE in the folk-music category two years running. When
asked if they consider themselves a folk act, Hence shakes his
head “No” as Xeno says, “Yes.”
“Folk musicians were the first reporters,” Xeno explains.
“They went from town to town sharing the news, presenting it
in song. That’s what we’re doing.” Witness the lyrics to
“Digging Your Mind”--a catchy little tune about newfound love
and the danger of mercury fillings: If you trust the
nightly news, I’ll give you sand / You can take it home, relax
and stick your head in it / but don’t blame this band / We
tried to tell you / at xenophilia.com / The truth
is out there / Go tell your mom.
Hence characterizes their music as “intellectual pop
with melodic hooks that a 3-year-old can comprehend
immediately.” No idle words these. “I’ve got a 3-year-old and
a 6-year-old. They just groove to it for days. That’s a good
sign.”
Xenophilia’s current incarnation began four years ago when
Amy saw Xeno at a local open-mic night. She was so amused by
his performance that she auditioned for his band that night,
performing Fiona Apple songs in the parking lot. Meanwhile
Hence, an accomplished guitarist and frontman for Hence the
Band, was growing weary of hearing about Xeno’s quest for a
reliable bassist. Hence taught himself the bass to fill the
niche and the rest is mystery ... er, history.
Though Xeno has yet to remove his sunglasses (it’s 10:30
a.m., indoors) and Amy is documenting the entire interview
with a digital camera, the friendly vibe they exude makes it
hard to imagine that the cryptic nature of their songs extends
to their personalities. Until the subject of their drummer is
broached.
Xenophilia’s mystery drummer can be heard on Café of
Love and has a bio on the band’s Web site, but has yet to
be sighted at a live show. When queried on his whereabouts,
Xeno immediately states, “We can’t talk about that.”
Amy offers this explanation: “Our drummer’s always there.
He’s just invisible and plays very quietly. He’s a shape
shifter.”
“Oh, come on!” Xeno protests. “Nobody believes in shape
shifters.”
And they all laugh knowingly.
At this point, the conversation adopts a paranormal tenor.
Xeno produces his digital recorder, quizzing the group about
aliens. Psychic phenomena are discussed, but not before Xeno
reaches over and switches off the reporter’s tape recorder.
The rest of the interview?
We can’t talk about that.
