Jig the Alien
article by Vanelis Rivera | photography by Federico Villaseñor
“I need a prettier sound. It doesn’t sound sharp enough,” insists Asa Stone, lead singer and second guitar of Jig the Alien. Styling grungy jeans, a multicolored plaid shirt, wild-maned Stone pauses, then shoots out, “I’m just not getting enough reverb.” Meanwhile, three instrument-wielding bandmates lock their gaze on Stone, then shift their attention to their instruments.
They’re a Lynyrd Skynyrd-looking bunch with unruly shoulder-length tresses and scruffy facial hair. Amidst the wave of long-haired white boys, resident rapper Joshua “Jerk” Coleman, black cap hiding his finger length black dreads, relaxes against a wall of psychedelic graffiti, swiping through his smartphone, revising his lyrics for the current song. Strings are fidgeted, drum sticks graze drum heads, and finally guitar and bass strings ease into a riff. Stone releases ballad-esque vocals interwoven with sharp strums from his guitar: “Saw it when ya’ stopped. Thought it would mean a lot. Lost my train of thought. Now it’s all I got.” Drum cymbals blast through the delicate melody. The five-headed Jig machine shakes down to an original song and fan-favorite, “When It Stopped.” This time, nonstop.
Each with his own specialty, this rag-tag team resembles a retro-heist ensemble of characters. Titular head honcho Asa takes the lead writing melodies and the music to them. Guitarist Tyler Sean Martin “Sweet Lips Ricky” and drummer Brad McCormick (also members of Astro Motel) are the soft-spoken contemplators– quiet in the streets, but savage on stage. Martin is known for writing and arranging the music alongside Stone. McCormick shows up to play hard, known for jiving melodies between Grant, adding parts to songs, figuring out transitions, and setting the tone to opening parts. The wildcards of this cast are bassist Joshua Grant “Jaugh” (pronounced ‘jaw’), and, most recent member, rapper Coleman. The duo are the erratic eccentrics, of sorts. Grant, swanking the longest locks of the group that tumble down his chest, is a strong contributor of the band’s melodies and also manages their social media accounts. “I guess I have a way with words. I have a weird vocabulary. Inventive captions,” says Grant. Coleman, born and raised in New Orleans and about 70% inked, supplies the strange and wonderful element that inspires audience intrigue– rapid fire raps to phantasmagorical indie rock. There’s nothing else like it anywhere close to here.
The original cast of Jig began with the three amigos of West Ouachita High School– Stone, Martin, and McCormick. Martin talked Stone into playing the guitar because he wanted a singer to jam with. Stone, only familiar with baritone from his junior high school days, picked up the guitar wanting to avoid being a “Rod Stewart up there” or a “Freddie Mercury.” Around 2009, true to the humble beginnings of any band, they practiced at McCormick’s shed, out in the bowels of West Ouachita, at his parents’ house, recalls Stone.
Jam sessions at McCormick’s were a “kind of learning, experimenting with what we could do,” says Stone. By 2011, Stone and Martin returned to Monroe from Ruston and began jamming with mutual friends, one of which named their budding band Fat Pelican. “Not to be confused with the restaurant,” Stone laughs. Fat Pelican began playing at crawfish boils and open mikes. Their gigs quickly escalated with help from their second drummer, who persuaded his bandmate in The Flying Humanoids to play as Fat Pelican’s bassist.
They broke into the scene when a performance at Live Oaks Bar and Ballroom was scheduled during this time; though, at that point, the band had no songs prepared. They managed to write about 10 songs in a month. Stone admits that he and Martin were “scared to death to play anywhere,” but being pushed into the music-savvy sphere is what they’ve been “rolling with” ever since.
Around 2014, they got McCormick back as drummer– the three amigos reunited! “We were writing some new songs. Playing some old Fat Pelican stuff,” Stone says. When Grant, already acquainted with Stone, returned to Monroe from Texas, he was recruited as their new bass player. A resurgence was underway that required a new band name. It happened, recalls Stone, “rolling around” the backroads of Calhoun. Annoyed at overthinking all their ideas, the guys brainstormed established band names like Minus the Bear and Portugal the Man. They landed on wanting “something the something,” says Stone. That’s how the name Jig the Alien materialized. “We laughed at how ridiculous it was,” says Martin, and that’s how they knew that the name would work. It suits Stone’s ode of not taking anything too seriously.
Jig the Alien is producing rare and remarkable cacophonies from the backstreets of Art Alley in downtown Monroe. Stone describes the creation process as “a fine line between trying too hard and not trying.” Their practice space, Sugar Studios, is a reclaimed squatter’s den which was a vast grocery-supply warehouse back in the day, judging by the conveyor belt lining the steps to a platform that leads to a few practice rooms. Three other local bands–Astro Motel, Voodoo Trees, and Boudain– have found sanctuary for their sounds in this seedy space, too. The rickety wood floor acts as a cemetery of cigarette butts, ruptured drum sticks, and empty beer cans, while faint tobacco perfumes dilapidated walls. A fitting home for the band’s grainy, crossbred sounds Stone has designated “Bluesed-alternative-grunge-pop-rock.”
Since their first four-song EP, Alien Pirate Gold (2015), the musicians have developed a keen ear for music editing.
Their most recent EP, Trouble Stops (2017), available on Spotify and iTunes, is a “conscious approach” to their own musical perspectives. “Man. I think that we’re pretty influenced by what we’re listening to more than we realize,” says Stone, referring to underground garage rock bands like Diarrhea Planet, The Weeks, Light Beam Rider, and Fly Golden Eagle. Their influences open “different avenues” for musical engineering. “No Jig song sounds like another Jig song,” informs Coleman. For instance, the outset of “Plywood Cowgirls” from Trouble Stops is “real country” says Coleman. But by the hook, the rhythm gains momentum and half of the song becomes Martin tearing-it-up.
Stone doesn’t have a plan when it comes to his songs, some he considers “pretty nonsensical,” but his intent is to leave the lyrics open to interpretation. Jig prioritizes melody and the delivery of their sound, putting their own “unique spin” on what’s already under the rock and roll sun.
“The music tells you, maybe not what to talk about, but how to talk about it,” says Coleman, particularly about the distinguished build-up exclusive to live music. Coleman has a conversation with the music. He pays attention to what the beats tell him. There’s a level of play in Coleman’s performance. He embraces the mic, losing himself, usually with a giddy grin, as his exploding rhymes ebb through what Grant calls “tangent jams,” when the music takes a life of its own. Coleman’s contribution to “Lemon Puddle,” currently unreleased, is indicative of his attention to cadence. It was also the song that introduced Coleman to the group. Already a fan of hip hop, Stone wanted to infuse the genre into their already hybrid sound. “We wrote that song and thought that a hip hop verse would be cool in the song. That whole song, when we wrote it, had that vibe to it,” says Stone.
Jig is currently “ironing out” 6 new songs, some of which have made it on their live performance setlist. On April 15th, the band joined the Sugar Studios crew in a private concert that benefited the DeSiard Street Homeless Shelter. An enthusiastic crowd of dedicated fans, friends, and family, with phone cameras set on record and bobbing heads, fervently surged the rearranged studio from 3 to 7 p.m. Jig closed the show performing about 7 songs. They finished the show with “Box Boogie,” a song from Trouble Stops ending in a furious crescendo of electric wreckage, which left the crowd howling “Encore!”
“We’re very serious and we’re not serious at all, at the same time. You can’t take yourself too seriously when you’re creating art,” emphasizes Stone. As far as Grant and Coleman are concerned, if it weren’t for Jig, they wouldn’t be involved in the local music scene. “We’re just a bunch of dudes really dedicated to music. Rock and roll isn’t dead,” says Grant. Jig’s motivation has never been to blend in, but, instead, create music that keeps people engaged and inspired. The Jig boys are unapologetically exemplifying that the main element of artistic work is a relentless dedication to unleashing expression. Their musical trajectory is a kaleidoscope of the unexpected. In the Jig practice room, mixed media has met sound and performance, a place where there is never enough reverb.
Follow Jig the Alien on Instagram and/or Facebook. Book them for a show you’ll never forget at [email protected] or Asa Stone’s personal Facebook page. Discover Joshua Coleman’s personal music on Soundcloud. He can be found as Jerk the Robot.