Interview by Corey Oldenhuis | Seeds Entertainment
Photo by Patrick Wright | Seeds Entertainment

Seeds sat recently down with multi-faceted music man Lucas Kellison inside his kickass studio sanctuary. The local ambassador of feral funk grants us insight into his dual world of production and performance as we talk industry ins-and-outs, musicianship essentials, back-breaking commitments and the blissful payoffs that make it all worthwhile. Lucas Kellison and the Undisco Kids’ acoustic album “Undisco Wood” will be celebrated at the album release party on the 23rd at Vega.

Seeds: What was it like playing Lincoln Exposed, and what do you have to say about Lincoln’s music scene?

LK: Well, playing it has always been fun. I’ve always kind of played it with different line-ups. I think most people that know me have known that I’ve been sort of incubated since I built this studio [SadSon Studios] in 2010, so I haven’t really been out gigging nearly as much as I used to with original stuff, and so it was pretty exciting to play Lincoln Exposed.

It was really a coming out party for my new group, and I’ve been kind of waiting on this line-up to happen organically, over time [and] to make sure that before I go back into the live scene, I have the band that I want.

That show we did was based on a couple rehearsals. We really haven’t played that much together, and my New Year’s resolution was to practice more. I don’t get excited often, but I’m thrilled about what we’re doing. I’m really excited to not only put this record out, but [to] get involved with the scene again; I feel like an old man visiting it now. [The Lincoln music scene] is growing, man. I was really impressed with the turn out; I was thankful for it.

I feel like there is a new wave of early 20’s crowd that is starting to get a taste for live music again and people playing instruments in front of them, and just having an appreciation for it. And it’s really nice to see that on a cycle. Like, when I into hiding, it kind of felt like bands were going to be extinct, but there’s been all these great things happening this year, like [Josh Hoyer and the] Shadowboxers’ CD release. It is an incredible thing they did at the Bourbon: over 700 showing up for a local show that is all original acts. And then Lincoln Exposed was such a great turn out. I heard they ran out of tickets. So, I think it speaks volumes of this new energy and I think it’s going places. Lincoln is great place to live, but its going to be an amazing place to live if we get a zestful art scene.

Seeds: You are an artist of many projects, for you’re a producer as well as a performing artist. What is it like to be both behind the scenes and out there playing the music?

LK:  I don’t know if I just have career ADD, or just an interest in different fields, but they are two totally separate arts, two totally separate sciences, also, and I love them both for what they are. I don’t think there is a superior one. I think that the skills I built in the studio since I’ve been incubated have been life-changing for me. I love being here, and I’m confident here for what I can do as an engineer and a producer. But at the same time, practicing my ear in the studio has also helped me realize how to orchestrate things so that they fit live performance more simply.

It used to be when I was younger I just had the live music background, it was late-night jam session until you come up with something that’s awesome, and you hopefully record it, or remember it. Now, because I’ve gotten so used to putting stuff in a structured order from a record standpoint–I have to, because time is money– I’m doing the same thing for the band now. So I sort of approach rehearsals like I would produce a project: I show up and I’ve got parts ready, or I’ve got ideas for parts ready, divvy them out as necessary, and then allow creativity in pockets.

Because of that, its happening a lot faster, and I’ve had so much time to think about it that I’m able to articulate it now, as opposed to just doing the same thing every day. When you take a year or two off from performing, and you’re still being creative in the studio, it really helps you understand what you want and how you would go about it live because they are two totally different art forms, both totally legitimate.

Seeds: You have the electric group of the Undisco Kids, and you also have the ‘Undisco Wood’ acoustic album coming out on the 23rd of February. In your early life, what was the impacting musical experience which began your course towards such extensive, creative endeavors?

LK: The earliest memory that I have of really, really enjoying—well, there’s two of them. I was really young when early 90s Michael Jackson was big. There was this phenomena around him, and I really liked his music as a little kid, and I still like it today. That was definitely one of them, and it was unavoidable at that time–you’d see Mike everywhere.

I saw Take 6—I think I was in 6th grade—perform at the Lied Center. They’re an aca pella group, but it’s not like that sing-off style aca pella; these guys were the coolest musicians, and they still are today. I just saw musicality at that age, and phenomenal, flawless singing, and musicianship and arrangements that I was able to recognize as a different level than I what I was used to. Take 6 as a vocal group and as arrangers are still a standard that people have to meet in order for me to take them seriously. They are still impactful, because in many ways I’m trying to get to that level as a parallel artist. Plus, they are the most Grammy nominated group of all-time, so it’s not like I’m the only one who thinks that.

Seeds: What is your expressive goal with your differently flavored bands, and what do feel is the best that each has to offer?

LK: This is the probably the first time in my life as a musician that I don’t have an end-game. I’m relaxed at this point in my life musically because I’m blessed to have experienced so much already. I’m just letting it all happen, man. I’m not worried about what other people are doing. I hope they’re doing great, I hope everybody gets what they need to get, but for me, I just want to work hard. We get so caught up in what everybody else is doing that sometimes we ignore our own craft.

Now, I’m at the point where, if you just do the math, I have the players around me in both acts that are talented enough if we apply ourselves that the result is going to be an excellent presentation. And I think if it is that, who knows where it’s going to go. But it can’t be a bad place. It’s really just more about being prepared and about respecting my audience; I can be better for them. Since I’ve had that mentality, you come to my show, you’re going to be entertained, you’re going to be given the best product in this point and time that I can give you, as opposed to, “Oh, I have gig tonight, I need to review a couple hours before,”—no. I really want to put on complete shows for people.

That mentality has really changed a lot and I think there is a lot of stuff coming my way from an opportunity standpoint. None of it is solidified yet, but there are hints that things are going to get much, much better. So that’s pretty exciting.

Seeds: You consider Parliament Funkadelic to be your heroes. What about the essence of funk do you find so appealing, and what about that group in particular speaks to you?

LK: Man, that’s a huge question. The thing that I love about funk the most is that its not super definable. It’s more of a lifestyle; it’s more of a mentality. It’s like a ‘party Buddhist’ way of looking at the world. The music itself, I think for me, is just…I came up as a bass player–still my number one instrument–and so if you start going in that direction, it’s kind of hard not to keep going.

When I go see live stuff—I can dig other stuff. Like, I can legitimately go to a rock show or a country show and appreciate the art and the work it takes to do all these other great types of music. But funk speaks me to in a totally organic, sonic level. I think ‘sonic level’ is the best way to put it. And think it does too for a lot of people, even if they don’t what they’re listening to is funk, or funky.

Now specifically with P. Funk, I just love the freedom. It’s like controlled chaos, man. I played for them, and what I learned from their dynamics is that there is a serious, unspoken art going on there that really is controlled chaos. It really is happening based on being present with your audience, and knowing what buttons to push and where to push.

There are two camps: you have your P. Funk camp, which is like the psychedelic funk–you never know what’s going to happen at a show, but you always know it’s going to groove. Always. Then you have your other camps that are considered funk bands like the ones that came out of Ohio. You have the Ohio Players, you have Earth, Wind, and Fire, and you all kinds of groups that came out of the Midwest. But that side of it is much more tight, much more clean, sort of from the James Brown background. That side speaks to me, but it doesn’t radiate with me. I love it, but they’re not the thing I aspire to sound like.

P. Funk is—it’s like a tamed demon. It’s so potent, and it’s so raw and so dirty. And that’s why I really like them. It’s really hard to explain.

Seeds: At Lincoln Exposed, producer and R&B talent TJ Sadler introduced you as his best friend. Though that may be a relationship formed way before music, what have you learned from the music industry and how important are the symbiotic relationships and artist collaborations within it?

LK: I’ve learned that the industry is like any other business. It’s frightening to start your own business; it’s frightening to take out a loan and invest money in it. But once you’re in it, you have to work hard, you have to work hard at your craft, just like any other business. What I tell people when I’m producing a record is that I’m not here to sell you a dream, I’m here to make a great record. It’s all I can give you.

Everybody wants to be successful overnight, it’s a business. If you’re in the business, its take a decade or so to establish yourself. So many people get burned out because they expect somebody to see them, and then suddenly, ‘Oh, I’m a superstar.’ That’s not how it works. Look at any field. The overnight success story is a complete myth. Everybody has to work for what they get. If you don’t work for it, and you’re some face of a corporation pop star, you’re not making any money anyway, and your career is going to be two years long and then no one is going to know who are ever again. You won’t have a dime to your name.

For the element that I’m in, it’s like a Mom & Pop store right now, and we’ll expand and we’ll get bigger as we can afford to.

As far as artist cooperation, it depends on what it is. Personally, I think there is entirely too much competition between artists. I think if you claim to be an artist, you should recognize the fact that art judging is for critics. If you’re doing a review of my show, my record, that’s your job, I appreciate that because I’m not going to quote myself. We need to media to label what we do, but we get so caught up in doing it to ourselves,  we forget that if you’re artist you are not supposed to be critiquing other people’s art. You’re supposed to be making art. I really don’t have time to [critique], I really don’t. I’m making music, so who cares? Who cares what other people are making. I mean, I hope they’re making great music, but I don’t care.

Seeds: We’ve already touched on the duality of producing and performing. What would you say is the key intangible necessary for each aspect? What does it take to reach one’s goals in either art?

LK: We get so complex and so expectant. I think being humble is one of them, and not to say I’m humble about my own ability or what I’m capable of doing, but I’m humble in that I don’t expect anything from anybody. Nobody is going to do anything for you in life. You have to work hard. So no matter what field you’re in, if you’re not working hard, what are you doing? That goes for live performing. If you’re a live performing and that’s the thing you hang your hat on, you better be having sweaty rehearsals. And you better have people who are dedicated and on the same page as you.

For me, that’s I’m so excited this naturally morphed into a band at this point. I love everybody I’m playing with and they all get how important rehearsal is. So, again, hard work on that end, and keeping up on your promotion, keeping your branding right—there is a lot of stuff that goes into it. From a production point: just working as hard as you can on a mix, man. I think you have to have a certain amount of empathy. That’s where I have a unique space as a producer is that I came into this as an artist, not as an engineer. I know what it’s like to write a song, have that be your baby, and desperately want to see it come to life.

I’m not one of the producers that try to plug people into my sound—I can’t stand producers that do that. If you come to my studio, I need to know who are and what you want to sound like. What is your sound, and how can we find it? Once we find it, we do our best job as possible, and empathy is what allows me to do that. It’s really, really about making the vision happen. The orgasm of music: you have a great live show which you finish at the end and know you played well and people really dug it–it’s the best feeling. For them and you. Similarly, when I see an emotional reaction of somebody getting the recording they want, and it hits their vision the way they intended it, I’m elated. Both of those things are really cool experiences.

Seeds: You seem to be driven in both of your passions and are always seeking ways to augment your sound, but do you ever catch yourself looking back upon what you’ve accomplished thus far and thinking, ‘Damn, that was pretty cool,’ or ‘Yeah, I’m mighty proud of this,’ etc.?

LK: It’s so funny. This probably goes for musicians, authors, filmographers: it’s really hard to look back at your old work if you’re still writing because you’ve seen it, listened to it, experienced it way so much more than anybody else that its very difficult, unless you take a long break from it, to just listen and enjoy it without picking it apart, having regrets, wishing you had done things differently.

That’s why it’s so hard to take time on a record like this, what I’m putting out, 12 tracks. It’s like 12 out of 40. That’s a four year process. I look back, and I appreciate the journey that I’m on, but I don’t really feel like it’s begun in a lot of ways. It’s almost like looking back at adolescence, like ‘Gosh, that was cool, but I could’ve done it better,’ or ‘Man, I don’t know what I would think if I saw me five or six years ago even.’ Mostly when I look back, its more along the lines of ‘I’ve made these steps towards the improvement of now.’ I’ll probably be an old man before I really look back.

Seeds: Pardon the philosophical change of pace, but in the grand scheme of things, in this broader existence, what role do you think music plays? What exactly is it in a Lucas Kellison definition, and why is it important?

LK: Music is a subset of art. And I think that art is the documentation of the human experience, and so music is very special because we don’t have the gift of the visual artist, or the novelist. We don’t get a lot of words. Therefore, we have to exaggerate the human experience. In other words, we take a story, or we take a movie scene, or whatever, and we have to think of the most exaggerated scene in our heads. And we have three to four minutes to present it in a way that is magical and huge. So our job really is to not only to document the human experience, but to ramp it up and make it way more dramatic than it probably really is, and help to sort of portray huge story lines in a short amount of time.