EVERYTHING WILL BE LOST? (Even this, now, will go.) The album "August" theoretically began 12 years ago when 19-year-old fledgling guitarist and songwriter dubbed Jesse Lee (in homage to the horseback preacher of the same name) first descended into the basement that housed his father's four-track recorder, and began experimenting with his very elementary musical skills. The songs Lazy Dazye and August were the first results of these early efforts, rife with 'mistakes' and an overall endearing sloppiness, but sound in their arrangements (which stand unchanged, incidentally, in their most recent incarnations). Solomon in Chains followed within a couple of years later, though it was never granted a full demoing. All three of these songs were recorded not to satisfaction at least twice by RDX in the first half of the first decade of the 21st century, but now have achieved a status of completion by their inclusion in the current canon. Formed in 2001, Red Door Exchange has created a space for the sonic and spiritual contributions of the four members, while serving as a vehicle for the full realization of the songs being strummed in the private corners of a busy mind. The title "August" refers to yes, the month, but more accurately to the feeling evoked in adolescence during this time of year, one of a bittersweet melacholy, the tang of loss simultaneous with the pleasure of having had, the long stretches of whitish sunlight in northeastern united states, the steady browning and limping of a once lush garden now releasing the final fruits of its bounty, the exodus of excess in a tourism-driven town, the impending collapse of freedom given the imminent return to the prison of an educational system, the sense of closure imposed by seasonal change, that glaring reminder of time passing. A review of "August" at THEHONEYCOMB.COM: We’re pretty psyched that after a three year hiatus, tuneful Easthampton, Massachusetts quartet Red Door Exchange has put their unclassifiable spatial rock back on wax. A warning to those unfamiliar with the erratic nature of this four piece, “August” is not an instant album. Sure, you have opener “Moonshine,” amiable and spunky in an off-kilter jug band meets Apples in Stereo kind of way. But, for the most part, you’ll have to sit with this one and let it sink in. The interlocking guitar licks of “Lost Son’s Rays,” which takes many cues from Built to Spill’s crunchiest stuff, are best left to roam in your mind’s eye for a bit. And, the Leonard Cohen-style drawl of “Archways” is significantly better enjoyed after letting its versus drift you away for a while (like a lackadaisical cubicle daydream.) Give this one a chance to expand on you; sure, it’s a bit challenging, but oh so rewarding. ~ Alex Rendon Selection of an interview with songwriter Jesse Lee Pietroniro by James Heflin, Valley Advocate: Q: How do you explain your music to people? A: I know you're supposed to have some sort of handy, if not witty, response to this question ready to be delivered in any context, and I still haven't come up with anything that great. I know it's important. I want people to buy this record and hear it, so I must be willing to sell it. Recently I've allowed myself to call it "rock music." That seemed so belittling before, but who was I fooling? So inflated that I couldn't call a spade a spade. ... Sometimes I cite the psychotherapeutic implications, for me personally, of the process that leads to the creation of this music, but mostly I keep quiet and evade the question. What I really want is a perfect tag line—that I'll never use. Q: Are you the primary songwriter? What do you tend to find interesting enough to write songs about? A: I am the songwriter. That being said: "All songs on this recording realized in their present actuality by Red Door Exchange in collaboration with Norm Demoura"—that's what the liner notes say. It's sort of a redundant, or obvious, thing to say, maybe. But I wanted to make it clear how I felt about how these two albums came to be. I write the songs, but they don't come "out" in the way that they are without the contributions of everyone involved. In certain cases too, like "Mate for Life," the song is inpired by a rehearsal jam, or even the lyrical content telling a story about the band. & Songs like "The Seven Trumpets" and "Nu Wei" (a play on the concept of wu wei, or "getting out of your own way") are rife with biblical imagery stemming out of my born-again Christian upbringing. The latter focuses on achieving a distance from that and other aspects of my childhood programming. The former is more of a commentary on the process of individuation—I guess that's sort of the same thing. Both served to relax my grip on ideas around hell, salvation, apocalypse and the like. I wonder if the words say this to anyone but myself. ... I wrote about emotional material. It's always been that way. Part of my breakdown was about breaking down what it is that music serves in my life. For me it's a bridge to the emotions. It's no longer about a need for recognition, although that's nice, too. It's a way of accessing and processing the sh*t I carry. It's certainly not the only way. It can't bear all of that weight, that's why I stopped. I had to learn new ways of support. [The full interview is available here: http://www.valleyadvocate.com/article.cfm?aid=10680]