They say it takes a village to raise a child. Then what does it take to make a band? A guitarist and a vocalist? A well-connected agent? A full club? An active entourage? For Madison's Buffali, the number is indeterminate. Sitting down to chat with the duo only offers the certainty that making a successful band includes far more participants than those making the music.
It takes a sister who can create some kick-ass cover artwork for the debut album Kerfuffle No. 10 and a friend who can maintain a kick-ass website. It takes the support of WUD Music Committee and consistent airplay on WSUM airwaves. It takes James Brown's funky drummer Clyde Stubblefield calling them "one of the best artists in Wisconsin" and an amazing cover and two-page article from coreweekly.
With such an encouraging base here in Madison, the Buffali's Clare Fehsenfeld and Andrew Yonda are set to extend their support system. Monday marked the embarkation of their first national tour, a two-week jaunt in a small van hitting venues in Michigan, Pennsylvania, New York and Ohio.
"Touring was the next step for a full-time band like us," Andrew explained. "You look at and hear so many bands around Madison and think, 'They could be famous. They could really be something.' But they aren't willing to take that risk. We just had to take the risks."
The Buffali are no strangers to facing those uncertainties, especially as they take on the roles of manager, booking agent, accommodations coordinator and producers, in addition to musician and songwriter. In the two years since its formation — spawned in no small part by the creation of a 10-minute, "bombastic, rap, hip-hop" tune — Clare and Andrew have relied on those uncertainties as learning tools.
"Booking can be hit or miss. You have to be persistent. A lot of times the person booking bands is just an underpaid bartender or someone waiting on other bands," Clare explained. "It took a while to get the system. Then I realized, putting it together, 'Binder, tour info, CD. Oh, I get it.'"
While it can take numerous phone calls, repetitive e-mails for one booking, it took one attempt at contacting the music coordinator of New York City's The Knitting Factory to gain the Buffali time onstage.
"My mom tells her friends, 'My son is playing at the Knitting Factory,' and they know." Andrew chuckled as he elaborated. "They don't ask about us, what the band is called or anything, but where we are playing means something to them." And it might just be best not asking for an explanation of the Buffali's sound. Clare's classification of the tunes on the album was as "quirky … a little dorky. College-indie, I guess. We are not folk. We swear a lot more."
Take one listen to the album. That truth of verbal fierceness manifests itself during the first track. The closing lines of "Yer late again / You are late again / I'm going to kill you / If you're late again / You f-ckin' piece of sh-t" contrast beautifully with the carefully harmonized a cappella opening sounds.
"Yeah, we were banished from that kingdom," Andrew interjected. "We were not folk enough."
As if there was fault in that. The black sheep of the folk family and a conglomerate of jazz, blues, and hip-hop, drenched with lyrical humor, create their own fantastic little kingdom. And this realm is something along the lines of a small-town summer festival. It is carefree and refreshing, perhaps verging on the bizarre, yet completely essential. Summer is not summer, and Madison music is not Madison music, without the Buffali wackiness.
It is a ride on the Ferris wheel. Reflectively poignant in one moment — the cage stopping, poised at the top of its trajectory — are such lines as, "The moment when everything got different all at once / There wasn't any time for yes or no / They couldn't help but fall into the beauty that was there" of the song "True Love." Rushing in the next moment — movement resumes — is the entrance of driving and playful guitars.
It is winding through the House of Mirrors. Some listeners hate seeing the distortions, hearing lyrics that want to mock — "He told us to get off, I said 'Buddy, c'est deja fait.'" Other listeners love the voices that strive to mimic some vein of the blues during "Awful Hot Baby."
Some hate the honesty, others love those lyrics. Some need to get out, others do not want it to end. Either way, Andrew summed it up: "Whether people like us or they don't, we are memorable."
No statement in regard to the Buffali could be more true. Except perhaps that it takes more than two ridiculously motivated and equally talented individuals to make a band. It takes supportive family and friends, a supportive local scene. And hopefully, when Clare and Andrew return to Madison to play the High Noon Dec. 14, they will have tales of the support of a much larger community.
