April 5–12, 2001
music
![]() |
|
|
Stag nation: Ray is hardly alone on her solo debut. | |
Indigo Girl Amy Ray rocks out with a little help from The Butchies.
Surprised that Amy Ray’s gone punk? You shouldn’t be. She’s always been the one who put the rock in the Indigo Girls’ folk-rock. She may have left Emily Saliers home this time, but she’s hardly alone. Her "solo" debut, Stag (Daemon), puts some other friends to work. The Rock*A*Teens, Danielle Howle, Joan Jett, Josephine Wiggs and Kate Schellenbach make appearances; post-Team Dresch rockrgrrls The Butchies join Ray on five of the disc’s tracks and back Ray on her current tour.
You might think the Butchies’ job is to inject some edge into the proceedings. But that’s not how it is at all. Stag is punk from the get-go, with Ray scoffing through "Johnny Rottentail." It hardly matters that the song’s only elements are her voice and mandolin — she nails the spirit.
Ray acknowledges she brought the Butchies on board for their punk background, but gave them more to do when they showed they could handle it. "They have a really particular sound that I wanted," Ray says on the phone, "but they also expanded on that and ended up being able to… morph into all these other sounds that I didn’t know they could do."
"I think we kind of surprised her," explains Butchies bassist Alison Martlew. "We’re pretty good at switching things up and we’re fairly versatile musicians." The Butchies help turn "Laramie" into a transcendent elegy for Matthew Shepard and they give gravity and groove to "Measure of Me," which seriously explores the questions of identity that arise when a lesbian develops a crush on a guy.
More in line with expectations, they rock out on "Lucystoners," which exceeds even the highest hopes of a Ray/Butchies pairing. An indictment of the monolithic, male-identified, mainstream music press, it reserves the big sing-along chorus for the magazine Ray says never gave props to the Indigo Girls: "Janny Wenner, Janny Wenner/ Rolling Stone’s most fearless leader/ Gave the boys what they deserve/ But with the girls he lost his nerve." Like a schoolyard taunt, it’s wicked and true, and it almost bullies you into joining the bashing.
Ray says she sees her influence in the Butchies’ newfound confidence. Singer-guitarist Kaia Wilson agrees. "I would like to… suck up all of [Ray’s] total tough-ass energy," Wilson says. "She’s like so honest, hardworking of a person."
The Butchies’ reputation as a punk band is grounded in their concerts; their albums rock, but are heavier on ballads than their shows would indicate. The trio’s third album, 3 (out April 17 on Mr. Lady), a little groovier than the band’s previous work, continues the tradition.
"It’s pretty moody," drummer Melissa York says. "I think that we’re a pretty moody band." Like the pure love it depicts, "Forget Your Calculus" sparks with passion, then settles into a solid groove that doesn’t quit. Elsewhere, danger and heartache rule. "Not Like Mine" may sound like it’s from a different planet, but it comes from the same place as Bill Withers’ "Ain’t No Sunshine."
Expect the Ray/Butchies’ show to have a high fun factor. For the group’s set without Ray, Wilson says, "We might throw in, like, one ballad, but we like to keep the energy pretty up and we like to be really silly and say silly things." "The set with Amy," explains York, "is very rock ’n’ roll, baby."
For Ray, Stag— inspired by her 1998 touring revue called Suffragette Sessions with Wiggs, Schellenbach, Lisa Germano and Thalia Zedek — has been positive. She says she’d like to do another solo album… but only after a few more Indigo Girls releases. "There’s never going to be anything in my life as intense as the partnership I’ve had with Emily," she says. "We’ve played together for 20 years. And that kind of creativity between two people that just becomes almost instinctual — it’s irreplaceable."
Amy Ray and the Butchies’ performance with Tami Hart on Thu., April 5 at the North Star Bar is sold out.

