The Machine’s Pump Volume 19 – #5 – May 2016

Okay. So let me get this straight. The year is 2016, right? I stumbled across a bunch of cut-out polka albums (vinyl) almost 40 years ago, which can seem like yesterday until I start to add up all of the things I’ve experienced since then. I remember feeling so clever, playing polkas in rock clubs. Then realizing how much I didn’t know.

At first, it was okay with me for Brave Combo to be just a crazy, somewhat unclassifiable band, thumbing its nose at stupid rock and roll posturing and pretense. The idea of playing music that the mainstream had labeled incurably square, in typically “hip” environments, was pretty exciting. We couldn’t lose, in a way. If the audience didn’t get it, we could always blame it on their lack of tolerance or imagination and walk away holding our heads high. But 90% of the time they responded the way we hoped they would. They liked it and a lot of them understood that we were trying to make a statement, as well as being “wacky” musicians.

Before we knew it, however, we found ourselves in front of real polka people, who had grown up listening and dancing to sounds that were still pretty foreign and exotic to us. Many of them liked what they heard (we were cluelessly cute, in a way), but we had to do better if the polka festival scene was going to work for us. We didn’t know how important proper tempos were. We didn’t know the difference between Czech-style and Polish-style, not to mention German and Slovenian. We didn’t know that conjunto and Tejano music had European roots. We didn’t know how to tell Honky-style from Push-style. Hell, we didn’t even know Joey Miskulin, Frank Yankovic’s right AND left-hand man, yet. We didn’t know where the hotbeds of all the genres were located. We didn’t know anything about Chicken Scratch (Native American polka) music. But we had to learn all of these things, and about a million more, if we were going to continue to take Brave Combo into the unknown. The perceived “novelty” side would only go so far. I can’t speak for any other members who have been part of the process, but I know, for me, the exploration of polkas nooks and crannies was the only way.

My fascination with the music began a couple of years before the band was born. I was an art student, wondering about Muzak and how organized sound can manipulate people. This led to becoming intrigued by the idea of changing minds about polka, which, by that point in my journey, was a symbol for free-expression and for not being encumbered by unnecessary opinions. Polka was the sound of thinking for yourself. After deciding that a band would be the best way to get my point across, Brave Combo was formed. It’s interesting to think about how the four original members viewed the band and what they each expected from it. I’m pretty sure the motivations and desires were all different.

For me, it was and still is, primarily, an on-going piece of conceptual art, for lack of better terminology. It’s a “what if” taken to ridiculous extremes. Within that context I have always felt comfortable doing whatever we wanted to do. And, at some point, we were compelled to try to capture the essence of polka in as many forms as we could, which became essential for the band to continue. This meant learning how to play Polish music at Polish events, Czech music at Czech events, German music at German events and so on. I knew how much I loved (and/or was obsessed with) polka and had to find out if outsiders like Brave Combo could even be accepted in style-specific situations. This put us on a road that hadn’t been built yet. The challenge was the incentive, but we also really wanted to get to know the amazing musicians that we were using as influences; those who inspired us. This was very important in the big picture and we knew it. We couldn’t be slackers.

We also found out some polka fans would never accept us. Accusations of “ripping off polka” were common, even veiled death threats, but we felt like we were on a mission. Eventually, other polka musicians around the country (Eddie Blazonczyk, Frank Yankovic, Jimmy Sturr and many more) started contacting us and showing up at our concerts, including alternative acts, like Rotondi and Polkacide. A wave of support was building and invitations to perform at serious polka festivals were coming in. I can’t say we were enthusiastically embraced by everyone we’ve encountered, but the door definitely opened; we found ourselves at a Slavic Festival in Kansas City, Czech Festivals in Ennis and West, Texas, the Conjunto Fest in San Antonio, Polish-style festivals, like Polka Fireworks in Pennsylvania, and lots of German Oktoberfests. Then the Grammy nominations and awards happened. Mind-blowing stuff, believe me, but not as mind-blowing as what just happened a month ago, thirty-seven years after Brave Combo played its first notes. I have been inducted into the International Polka Association (IPA) Hall of Fame. This is beyond amazing.

First of all, I’m not sure I deserve it. Frankly, I have charted my path in life rather selfishly. It’s really wonderful that so many people have supported our music and, apparently derived pleasure from it. That’s a great by-product and certainly part of the goal, but I wanted Brave Combo to do just what it’s done, so I could fulfill my dreams. And I have protected it fiercely, to such a degree I’ve often rubbed fellow band mates the wrong way. Reaching for perfection can be hard work and we spend a lot of time in rehearsal making things tight and crisp, working out musical strategies to maximize the impact of the songs. We’re just like Muzak. We use music as crowd control. And I have to be in charge. However, being recognized by the IPA like this puts everything in a whole new light. I am honored, humbled and stunned more than words can express. My studio-quality photo will be hanging next to honest-to-God polka legends. Now I feel more protective of the genre than ever. I guess this makes Brave Combo, in a small way, somewhat responsible for how polka is perceived today. Hmmm. This is almost too much to take in. Maybe it will make sense and seem normal one day. Here are some recent articles from Dallas, Ft. Worth, Denton and my hometown, Texarkana, if you want to read more on the subject.

I’ve been paying too-close-for-comfort attention to the current race for the White House and am astounded by the behavior of “civilized” adult humans. I was actually proud, which is a word I almost never use, of my country when we elected a black man for President. I felt like it showed the rest of the world that we were fulfilling our promise of equality. Then he turned out to be really good at it and has achieved some major accomplishments that are important to me. Everyone in the USA should have been just as proud, but no. The Republicans despised Obama so much the hate poisoned their minds and eroded their values, such that their verbal venom and vomit created Trumpenstein, the babbling orange hot air balloon monster. No substance. No principles. Possibly sociopathic. Definitely narcissistic. The right-wing white supremacists and Christian identity neo-Nazis love him, of course. He’s saying all the things that racist bigots want to hear. You know what I’ve learned? There are two kinds of “Christians” in the United States today. One kind has no fear, is, rather, full of faith in Jesus, happily following his teachings to the best of his/her ability, which boils down to helping and not judging your neighbor. Then there are the Bizarro “Christians,” who are the exact opposite of Jesus and are doing and acting and thinking contrary to what he taught. They are, it seems, absolutely consumed by fear and hate, instead of faith. And act like they never heard of The Golden Rule. These days, when I think about Christians I think about guns and money. Certainly not love and peace. I wonder how many weapons Jesus owned, how much money he had in the bank or how many people he hated? You can fact-check me if you want, but I bet the number was close to zip. Whatever, I’m obviously left-leaning, but I’m also willing to hear what my right-wing friend has to say and find a compromise. I know what’s “right” for me is not necessarily “right” for everyone. Being a vegetarian taught me that a long time ago. Many of my best friends eat meat. I wish they didn’t, but I still enjoy their company and care about them.

By the way, considering I have built a career on celebrating the music immigrants brought to the United States, I’m going to be a little sensitive about some of the things Trumpenstein, in his worldly lack of wisdom, has said. You know what I’m talking about.

I have said enough; probably too much, but I would like to close this Machine’s Pump thanking everyone for all your support over the years. And a special thanks to those of you who believed in me and voted to induct me into the Polka Hall of Fame. I will try to live up to the honor and do my best to not embarrass the IPA too much.

Brave Combo is playing a bunch these days. Check our calendar, come to a show, hear something you never heard before, dance like a euphoric sloth, if you like (not required). Now, “LET’S POLKA!”