In the case of HammrLöf, it was all about the carbs, baby.
"HammrLöf, I joke, is that we all came together baking bread, and we left as a band," says organizer Adam Carter, who also runs the locally-centric The Way Back Sessions (which is currently on hiatus). "We'd bake bread and cookies. And so this whole philosophy about breaking bread together and being friends and building a band around baking bread came out."
Bread-centric origins aside, there's not too much more we know about HammrLöf. There are the members: Chrome Rhino's Travis Prillaman, Carter's long-time collaborator Jake Sevier, guitarist James Taylor, drummer Spencer Ferrarin (A Casual Divorce), narrator Aaron Jacobson and Jay and Miles Reid (of Prime Society), among others. There's also a handful of songs, like "Ketchup," which hint at an eclectic sound straddling '60s folk and abstract pop. The rest, it seems, is meant to be purposefully obtuse.
"First of all, it's truly a performance art piece," Carter says. "It's something that we (Carter and Sevier) just daydreamed about. Like, 'What if this were to be played out live?' And with everything I've done in the music scene through the many years that I'd like to admit, I didn't just want to go and play a show. And it's like, 'Well, how do you get somebody out to see a band that nobody's ever seen?"
The solution? Organize an event around your make-believe band.
"So it became, 'Well, why don't we build an event around it? Why don't we build a music festival?' And the performance art component came about because we needed to bring in somebody to help us tell the story of this," Carter says. "And that ... transcended into LöFest out of HammrLöf. And, ultimately, the people in the band HammrLöf are all on the inner circle, and they're all people that I personally consider heavy hitters in the scene."
Still, if this whole story needed another wrinkle, Carter was vehement that HammrLöf and LöFest are distinct for key reasons.
"There's a big division between LöFest and HammrLöf," Carter says. "LöFest is the culmination of the celebration of the HammrLöf. That's a different thing. What is HammrLöf?"
Ultimately, the band remain tight-lipped for a reason: It's a better kind of engagement with the audience.
"We've been elusive with the information," Carter says. "A lot of that drove what we wanted to do with the rollout of HammrLöf and why it's been so secure. It should unveil itself at the show. And, hopefully, there'll be a little bit of clarity of what's going on at the end of the night, but I can't promise that."
At least we know Carter's favorite bread, which may offer another, slightly more abstract clue regarding the nature of HammrLöf.
"I'm going to go with an olive loaf," Carter says. "It's the balance of the savory spices with a little bit of the chunky olive."
Even if we don't have a very clear picture about LöFest and HammrLöf, the entire, rather involved ordeal does have some significance. Given the whole "show, not tell vibe," you might guess ideas of media literacy are central to this project. Just perhaps not as obvious as you'd expect.
"I don't want to say that's something lost because I hate to ever be even slightly negative to any other generations, older or younger," Carter says. "We all experience different things in different ways. There has been a struggle in the way people consume things. That might be the product of age or the product of social media. It could be the way we consume things, and needing your information now and needing to completely understand all of it when you walk away from scrolling your phone."
LöFest and HammrLöf, then, are responses geared toward something altogether simpler and direct.
"Was it really a product of being so conscious about people's consumption of social media and the arts? It was much more personal than that. It was much more, 'We want to make a piece of art,'" Carter says. "I think sometimes my experience has been that even when some people say that they want something different, they're not actually speaking the truth. And I find that to be a bit of a challenge when you're trying to do something new."
Carter admits, then, that it's not just about bells and whistles for the sake and instead a kind of creative declaration.
"Look, we're not reinventing the wheel," Carter says. "We're not doing something that hasn't been done. I think that the way we're doing it, and where we're doing it, and how we're doing it on an ultra-local level with not huge pockets."
Emphasizing the local angle is only the beginning. This whole project is about being as genre-curious as possible to get people to check their own assumptions and biases.
"One of my big goals with the show was always to break down musical barriers and be very diverse with the musical offerings because not everybody likes the same music, but not everybody knows why they don't like it," Carter says. "I was hoping that I was bringing in so many different genres that we could examine what we did and didn't like about something and then you could walk away with either your mind being changed or having a better understanding of why you didn't like something."
That core idea goes even deeper still: As someone who has made art for years, Carter wanted to do something big on a very different level. Many genres are one thing, but at the end of the day, a lot of bands work the same way.
"When you're a musician in bands, you have to compromise," Carter says. "You have to be really mindful of everybody else's considerations and what they want out of the time, talents and energy that they're putting into a piece of art. Jake and I felt that we could bring in the right people, that we could say yes to everything and that there was so much talent in the room. And everybody could get their way."
So much of LöFest and HammrLöf, then, are rooted in The Way Back Sessions and Carter's work in a pre- and post-COVID world. It's been a time, it seems, where the group's creative goals seemed more approachable.
"I absolutely can say that LöFest wouldn't exist without The Way Back Sessions, and The Way Back Sessions wouldn't exist without COVID," Carter says. "The Way Back Sessions was a great way to extend the concept, get the message out and continue to play up the, 'Hey, I don't know what's going on, but these guys are over here doing stuff,' and leverage that community on that end to have a built-in audience to say wacky, abstract things to and know that ultimately they were the right people to gain their interest."
Thus, yet another layer or wrinkle emerges. Namely, the "world has come back," says Carter, and that's left live music/entertainment in a bind to find its footing amid a new pecking order.
"In order to remain relevant, you have to be willing and able to change," Carter says. "And as the world came back, we saw, I wouldn't say a downturn, but kind of a slowing down of the relevance or importance of what we were doing in-house. So it took a long time to pivot. Now, how do you go out and gain people's attention? Well, they're not sitting at home on their couch without anything to do like they were. I don't want put on it just another show. I want you to talk into Last Exit Live and go, 'Well, damn, I've been here 100 times and it's never looked or felt like this.'
Carter adds, "From the moment you see the first act and what's going on to the announcements to the unique loaves of bread that are being offered during each individual set to the way the bands are treating this. I just want it to be completely unique and show that you can do something like this on a local level and it not just be a show where some bands came and played."
It's never really about the art or music (even as those remain especially important). Instead, it's the sheer connectivity.
"It's not the music that's the thread. It's the people involved in making the music and the art," Carter says. "It's the community that this wouldn't happen without all of us. Look, everybody is a loaf. You're a loaf. I'm a loaf. And this was...when you get into the gimmick side, it really wasn't developed to be a gimmick to do it. It's not called LöFest just because we put a weird name to a show. It's not just a band. It's not just that we're putting a second stage out there. Ultimately it was like, 'How do we make this inclusive to everybody to get everybody in on the gag?' That was important to set it apart from just another show."
That's why, even before the event proper, Carter and company are considering the future. I made a comparison to the narrative-centric approach and general vibes being very much like Gwar (the monster-themed heavy metal band known for its rotating lineup). Turns out, that was a scarily spot-on observation.
"Ultimately what we've tried to do is build this story to allow it to have a life after this and know we're not going to walk away knowing everything after this show," Carter says. "There should be enough laid out to not only pique curiosity, but for people to be like, 'Crap, I missed that one. I can't miss another one.' What is that going to entail?"
Even if there's no giant Gwar-like worm involved, HammrLöf and LöFest are going to be truly dynamic.
"It also gives us the opportunity to leverage doing other components for the future if we're lucky enough to be able to do it again," Carter says. "And by doing it again, this won't ever happen again. It'll be, 'Well, what does that next one look like?' How does that take shape? But it allows us to continue some of these personalities, some of the characters, some of the story of what's going on and let it evolve and grow. So this is something that could live forever. I would even be so bold as to say that some of us don't exactly know the true story even when we're in the middle of it."
That raises another big question: just how real could HammrLöf truly become?
"HammrLöf existing in the world of a traditional band? I couldn't ever imagine," Carter says. "Nobody's going to be able to get HammrLöf to come play a set at their show. We will release music and even T-shirts and stuff if people want them."
Carter isn't exactly getting ahead of himself (too far, at least), and he's fine with whatever outcome occurs.
"It's fantastical right now because it might still remain obscure if it doesn't happen again," Carter says. "I think that when you see the show, you go, 'OK, I see why this can't happen.' I'm a little bit selfish in the sense that I want to make art the way I make art. Some people like the art I make and some people don't."
Because through all the weirdness and complexity of this project, Carter and his collaborators have one simple goal: make some memories. Those could be good or bad, and what matters is that HammrLöf and LöFest will make their mark with local music fans.
"My big issue right now is that I'm disappointed that I can't be out there to see this thing happen," Carter says. "Whether it's good or bad, whether it is a great thing or it's a complete shit show at the end of the night, I do believe we'll all walk away going, 'Yeah, I remember when I was at LöFest, that crazy thing.'"
LöFest is set for Saturday, Jan.18 at Last Exit Live, 717 S. Central Ave. The fest includes performances by The Color 8, Snailmate, A Casual Divorce and The Saturn III. For tickets and more information, head to lastexitlive.com.
