WRMC 91.1 FM On Rotation

Author: BENJAMIN GOLZE

Friday, May 12, is WRMC's annual spring concert-fest, Sepomana. In seeming anticipation of the event, I received this letter about its origins from a crazy-man/former-WRMC-ringleader Pauls Toutonghi '98, and I decided to run it:



We came up with the word "sepomana" in a Monday-afternoon meeting in February of 1997. My friend, Jeremy Dean, was the one who coined the phrase. We'd been brainstorming - trying to name WRMC's new concert series. After about fifteen minutes of rejected ideas, Jeremy suddenly turned to everyone and said: "Sepomana." It was a little serendipitous. So, "sepomana" is WRMC's word. We made it. we are wordsmiths. Rock n' roll.

The intention with Sepomana was simple: A May concert that would provide an alternative to the annual MCAB major-label love-fest. I mean, how many times can you sit in the Field House and listen to Wyclef Jean?

For the first Sepomana, I booked some on-campus bands, long since dissipated into the ether of the Middlebury College past: Waterpocket Fold, Bujicle, Dorm Damage (for whom I briefly sang). I also booked three independent Burlington bands: Starlight Conspiracy (beautiful melodic rock), Zola Turn (all-female raw rock), and The Fags. The Fags were possibly my favorite band, ever, period.

Their lead singer, Eugene, was an emaciated Ukrainian immigrant whose accent sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a Soviet bathtub. They played a combo of polka and Stooges-style 70s metal, with big, soaring, crunchy power chords and ruminations on drinking and French existentialism. Think: The best Eastern European metal you've ever heard. Then make it twice as raw. Bingo. The bass drum was a picture of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Every time the drummer hit the pedal, the heart beat. Pure awesomeness.

The plan was simple. Start the concert outside. Serve Guiness and Bass black-and-tans, get people drunk, then move the concert inside. And that's pretty much how it worked.

The concert went well. All the acts were introduced by a local Elvis impersonator who we hired for fifty bucks and all the beer he could drink. We did have illegal kegs backstage, for the bands. I got busted removing the last of these kegs at two AM. But then - two days later - my friends helped me break back into security's keg closet and steal the keg back. But that's a totally different story.

We went several thousand dollars over budget. Oops. Charlotte Chase was not happy with WRMC and Pauls Toutonghi, no. But it was worth it. Now, 2006 is the tenth-annual Sepomana. This makes me feel terrifyingly old. But happy. It's rare that something you start endures on a college campus - something which is built around the idea of impermanence (at least in the student body). But that's what makes WRMC unique, I think, and valuable.



All the best from Brooklyn,

Pauls Toutonghi



Here's a quick run-down of the Sepomana 2006 acts, for consumption by the unwashed masses:

The Sixfifteens: This band out of Saratoga Springs, NY, plays a tortured pop-punk that is rife with hooks. For reference, check out a full live set they just posted online at www.thesixfifteens.com.

Tal M. Kline: The dominant half of the pioneering online electronica duo Tranceden, the Israeli Kline is now known for his "jazzy breakbeats, collaged house, and drum'n'bass tunes."

The Books: The New York City-based duo has crafted a unique style out of a huge archive of recorded sound files, mixing it with electronic beats and guitars to create a sound that bridges the gap between electronica and rock/pop. The songs are fascinating and immediately grabbing. Their best work appears on the 2005 album "Lost and Safe," though the earlier two are a sure bet as well. Playing with the Books will be their friend/similar artist Greg Davis.