Miami solo musician Xela Zaid evolves as he searches for raw essentialism of music on latest album — a vinyl release
June 6, 2016
Local gem Xela Zaid has long been one of the most innovative musicians working the Miami music scene, from his early career as a singer-songwriter using unique tunings on an acoustic guitar with a microphone shoved into its sound hole to his current experimentation with peddles, radio and abstract noise.
Photo by Gil Bitton
One of South Florida’s greatest contemporary solo musicians still criminally treading water down at the end of the United States to not enough global recognition is Jose Ferrer, a.k.a. Boxwood. The 34-year-old multi-instrumentalist and singer has just self-released his second EP, “Moon Garage.” We covered the release of his first one (Boxwood, a one-man wall of sound, releases “Sun Garden City” EP today). The man with the celestial obsession was casually introduced to me by another local musician, Alex Diaz, who also has been down in Miami, evolving as an artist for even longer (read my 1997 profile on that guy in the Miami New Times here and check out his soundcloud).
I had no idea what to expect of Ferrer’s music, but he was introduced to me by someone I trust. Though some will detect similarities in sound to The Cure, My Bloody Valentine or Radiohead, no one makes music like Boxwood. Though he performs solo, he layers parts, including percussion, guitars and vocals via loop pedals to create a lush, dynamic brand of music all his own. He does it live both on stage and in 
the recording studio. Over an open air dinner at the Vagabond Hotel in Miami, the slight-of-frame musician says, “A lot of the stuff that I come up with is because of the loop pedal. I’ll come up with a part to a song, and then I’ll kind of isolate the rest of a song, and I’ll let that part ring out.”
The flow of a Boxwood song’s construction comes across as strong as it does because Ferrer prefers to follow the resulting music in its hazy swirl of hooks and melodies and not force some strict construct. It seems counter-intuitive for a solo artist who has complete control over his work, but he says he prefers to follow the music almost subconsciously as if he was a one-man jam band. In fact, he would prefer it if all his songs came out blended together. “I’m always thinking that it will be cool if this song went into something else,” he says. “Like the last part of this song can go off, and I’ll see if I can write something to that, like a medley, and then I end up coming up with another song.”
Whereas collaborative musicians in a band jam with each other to create music, Boxwood feeds off inspiration from the looping parts he creates. It’s a process of exploring music that the musician finds liberating for his creative process. “I’ve also tried to play like just whatever and just loop it and then try to fill in the gaps to see what comes out of it, and that’s interesting,” he explains. “When you listen to some songs and then all of a sudden the drums come in not where you’d expect it, and the guitars are doing something that’s cool, so I try to do that not to throw you off but just for myself, and then songs come out of that, and then I change them around.”
Here’s one song he is streaming free on his bandcamp, “Let It.”
But a favorite he won’t give out for free is “Affected,” featuring pummeled drums affected by echo, an incessant buzz of electrified rhythm guitar and a catchy hook that sounds like it was made by an electric slide guitar. In the middle of the song the hook drops and three guitar parts stack up one by one. One is a simple repetitive plucking and the other two are call and response parts with slightly different shimmering effects. Though he speaks a bit low, Ferrer’s singing voice is something else, especially on this number. It’s bold and compliments the range of effects on his instrumentation. He’s not a neat singer, but it comes from a place of potency you will never find while talking to him over dinner. There are whines, growls and slurs that obscure the lyrics, which are sometimes filled with bitterness: “Good morning, here’s another shit storm coming my way, panicking heads, visual shit, audible waste.”
It’s a little scary, but Ferrer is quite an affable fellow in person. He’s also a new dad, having recently had a child with his longtime girlfriend. It’s apt that he plays his music under an abstract moniker because the man is certainly different from the musician.
His exploration of music began at a perfect time: his early teen years. At 14 years old he learned a few chords from a friend and the rest by ear. “I don’t even know the chords I’m playing,” he admits. “I never learned how to play guitar. I just kind of write. I’m not a player.” In fact he adds, “I wouldn’t call myself a painter or a musician or a carpenter. I like to make things.”
He may not call himself any of that, but he studied art at the School of Visual Arts (SVA) in Manhattan, focusing on illustration. So, like any good artist, he contradicts himself a bit. “I did a little bit of everything but mostly oil painting,” he admits.
Like his last release (see images here), he has made the physical version of his new EP a handmade affair. “It’s a wood casing with burlap seams and a random booklet inside taken from school text books,” he explains. “I work with wood at my job all the time. I have access to a shop and liked the idea of having a wooden CD case, with an organic feel and look. Something that was clearly handmade. And also, like the previous EP, no two cd casings are alike. This is probably also the last chance I’ll get to make a CD since they are quickly becoming more and more obsolete.”
Which leads one to think that maybe a vinyl release might be on the horizon. “I would prefer to buy vinyl, if getting music in the physical form,” admits Ferrer, “but Lord knows I can’t afford to press vinyl at the moment. Unique handmade packaging I think makes up for whatever format the music is in.”
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You can read more of my conversation with Boxwood, including more intimate details on how a quiet guy like Ferrer finds such a powerful voice on stage by jumping through the logo of the Broward New Times Music section below. You can also stream another new song off the EP there. The same story that you’ll find after the jump also appears in print in this week’s “Miami New Times” music section:
Boxwood will take the stage in Miami at Will Call this Friday, April 3. Show begins at 10:30 p.m. with special guests Sigh Kicks. There’s no cover charge. Here’s the FB event page. Let us know if you’re going or even if you wish you could go in the comments below.
Radiohead tribute show in Miami, allow me a few words on said band
November 23, 2010
Today, Nov, 23, Churchill’s Pub and Dangerfun will host The Bends: A Radiohead Tribute. Several local bands will take the stage to play their favorite Radiohead tunes. Among them Andy Christ, Lindsaybell, Ian Michael, Rebel, Xela Zaid, boxwood, Triple Gem, Gonzo Danny, Jackie Ransom, Joikels, Johnny OneTwo, BadAss (edit: BadAss has cancelled due to illness, I am told by Churchill’s. Eric Schwartz will fill in) and DJ Saul Good.
The doors open at 8 p.m., and the show begins at 9. Those below drinking age will need to give up $5 to get in, and anyone over 21 is expected to drink. Here’s Xela Zaid’s take on “Paranoid Android,” which I love, only because it sounds so distinctly Xela-esque– only he can make an acoustic guitar sound so luscious and noisy at once, but if any of the songs are going to be as loosely interpreted as this, drink might help:
I might make it out to the show. I do love me some Radiohead. Actually, they have come to be one of my all-time favorite bands but totally by surprise. I never thought I would be a Radiohead completist (as far as songs go– not formats– those people are crazy), but it turns out I have all their albums on vinyl, including the fancy version of In Rainbows pictured below. 
To top it off, I recently completed my new Radiohead collection of deluxe editions (the double CD+DVD versions). I wound up with practically brand new sets of Kid A, Amnesiac and Hail to the Thief at reasonable used prices (just under $20 each thanks to wherehouse.com).
In the wake of these purchases, I had noticed an odd sort of backlash against the band, probably prompted by “Spin Magazine”’s Nov. 9, 2009 cover issue. “16 Rock Myths Debunked.” Well, here was the leading myth by Chris Norris:
Rock Myth No. 1: Radiohead Can Do No Wrong
Reality: Radiohead kinda blow
Now, I shan’t fault him for his view, nor all the others he invited onto his Radiohead haters bandwagon. His key argument is that they put him off because they behave so dang pretentious. I’ll admit the band seems to rationalize every release, looking for a purpose or reason to release an album. “So they’re a band, making records. Why all the newspeak? Does Radiohead’s every move have to be without precedent? Must they define a new music language?” he moans. Look, fine, I’ll go with that. A true artist will know humility and be happy with it. Yet, it does seem Radiohead strain to be vital with each and every release, sometimes quite self-consciously changing up their sound (most especially with Kid A and Amnesiac).
Whatever the rhetoric they may couch their logic for releasing an album, it does nothing to detract from how consistently interesting each of their releases have been since Pablo Honey in 1993. With every release, Radiohead has impressed me, but the band never won me over as a dedicated fan until Amnesiac. Now, don’t misinterpret that. As a college radio DJ, I was there in 1993 when the “Creep” single first made the rounds on college radio and later started appearing on heavy rotation on MTV’s alternative rock show “120 Minutes.” I also caught Radiohead live on Miami Beach opening up for Belly at the intimate Cameo Theater, where I also got Thom Yorke’s and Jonny Greenwood’s autographs*.
But I was a very casual fan then (my passion then was for Stereolab more than Radiohead. Ironically, I’m more interested in what Radiohead is currently doing than Stereolab). I went to their show with Belly only because the college radio station I worked for, Florida International University’s WUFI, then on 540 AM, had free tickets. I remember my date and I screaming “Lurgee” between songs, whenever we had the chance, as that was my favorite track on Pablo Honey. Still, they never played it that night. Even later on, when we clarified by yelling “I feel better,” the song’s opening line, Yorke just responded with “good for you.” Clearly, this is not the kind of guy who likes being told what to do or satisfy any expectations, even back then. After I met him and Greenwood, I asked Greenwood why they didn’t play “Lurgee,” he said, “I don’t why we didn’t play it. We usually do.”
Anyway, back then it was all just a freak encounter. I loved their layers of guitars, which back then sounded like an easier to digest My Bloody Valentine. It was all fun and interesting, but my interest in them was only casual. When it came to bands with layers of guitar noise, I preferred Kitchens of Distinction’s work (a more obscure band, I know, yet they did the lush layers of guitar noise as early as ’89) to Radiohead. Once again, I’m quite over the Kitchens’ now dated sounding work in comparison to Radiohead’s. In the meantime, Yorke became amused by the two pretty Miami girls hanging off him on either arm.
When OK Computer came out, critics began comparing Radiohead with Pink Floyd and Genesis and other prog rock artists of the early 70s. Probably most lazily due to the sound of the Mellotron on “Exit Music (For a Film)” and the lengthy, time-shifting “Paranoid Android,” which became an MTV hit at the time. I thought the Bends had been a strong follow-up to Pablo Honey for sure, and had bought that CD soon after its release. But OK Computer was the first of their albums to totally blow me away and feels like my favorite album.
Then came the two albums almost designed to push away the casual fan: Kid A and Amnesiac. I bought Kid A soon after its release. It was a curious departure as it melded the avant-dance-oriented break beats of Aphex Twin and rock. It wasn’t so much a new sound, as it harvested certain music schemes that came before it (it wasn’t too different from what Moby or even Brian Eno only a few years earlier). It wasn’t a perfect album, as only one song grabbed me immediately: “Morning Bell,” but it would casually grow on me over the years as amazingly atmospheric songs began to take shape like “Everything In Its Right Place” and “How to Disappear Completely.”
Then came a fateful trip on train, crossing the Czech Republic with a class from FIU, during my studies for a Master’s degree. It was an overcast day and the grassy countryside spotted with modest cottages zipped past my window. One student had offered to loan me his CD copy of Amnesiac, which I had not got around to buying, skeptical after Kid A‘s then seeming half-assed quality. Then, “Packt Like Sardines in a Crushed Tin Box” started up on its metallic beat. With my attention on the adventurous development of the song, as I stared out at the passing landscape, my love for Radiohead had solidified.
With every subsequent release, I was there as a fan, even if Hail to the Thief felt a little weak upon first listen. It did grow on me, much as Kid A had. Then came In Rainbows, which I downloaded for free from Radiohead’s website, since they said I could pay whatever I wanted. My experience with their prior albums merited that price. They would have to earn my appreciation and money. However, it only took a few listens before I knew I would pay more than $80 for the aforementioned deluxe version on two 45 rpm vinyl LPs in a hardbound case with fancy abstract art book and a bonus CD of outtakes, along with the CD of the album.
I have no regrets. I dare say In Rainbows, may finally be that Radiohead album that ideally melds their electro tendencies with guitar-oriented rock. It leaves me looking forward for the new album, which I hear they are close to finishing (see Greenwood’s post on their official site here).
*You’ll notice I handed Thom a notepad asking him a couple of questions, as my editor (a not-much-older faculty member) wanted me to write an article about the then rising trend of moshing (the small bits of research thankfully never amounted to anything more than this humorous autograph). It was noisy there in the alleyway outside the club, so I asked him just to fill it out. I saw that he signed it, so I just thought “what the heck” and handed the pad to Jonny, so he might autograph it. I now keep the autographs below the CD tray of my Pablo Honey CD, which I got for a few cents from the BMG club later on.
Haunted by the Holy Terrors
August 24, 2010
Over the weekend I saw Interpol live but was haunted by the Holy Terrors the next morning.
After a way too late night out and barely any video footage to show for it, it was the Holy Terror’s “Cigaretello” that was still stuck in my head when I awoke the following morning. Rob Elba’s screeching “higher, higher, higher and higher” repeated more and more harshly in my mind, like Black Francis in his prime with the Pixies. I wasn’t even hung over, just still high on the buzz of watching the Terrors live again after being long too absent from a local live show (that goes for both me and them).
Even though I missed their regular bass player Wil Trev (out of town on family business, according to his replacement for the night Humbert bassist Tony Landa), a key member had returned to the rhythm section: Interpol’s Sam Fogarino. His sticks slapping the skins like a Gatling Gun, unheard of in the dark droney gloom of the NYC-based Interpol, Fogarino certainly seemed glad to be back home with his old bandmates. Here’s “Turn” as preformed that night, a song that can be found on the band’s 1994 album Lolitaville. Just look at the smile on Sam’s face, and tell me he’s not happy with back on the Churchill’s stage):
The South Florida-based band, originally from Hollywood, rejoined in celebration of their “20th Anniversary” for Interpol’s officially sanctioned after party at Miami’s Churchill’s Hideaway, late Saturday night. I noticed some of Interpol’s key players in attendance (Paul Banks and Daniel Kessler were spotted), though I got too caught up catching up with old faces to even be bothered to chat them up, sorry. As a paid music journalist, my obligations might have felt different, but that night, as an unpaid blogger, I was enjoying drinking it up with old and new friends and doing a little pogoing and body slamming (sorry for kicking you while you were down, Xela Zaid). Besides, the Terrors have been a footnote to Interpol enough times. Let Interpol be the footnote in this post.
Unfortunately the batteries for my camera had died before the show began, another of the pitfalls of being a less self-conscious music blogger versus a prepared, paid music writer. So, no video footage of the Terrors recorded by me exits. However, a search of YouTube revealed several bits captured on video by others, as seen above. Here’s someone else’s video, not HD, but at least complete (though missing Rob’s hilarious intro putting down West Palm Beach). This is “Palm Beach”:
Everyone was in top form that night. Guitarist Dan Hosker is still as precise as ever for a punk rocker. Rob still screams with abandon, damn the health of his throat (good things these reunions are so sporadic). And for no rehearsal, Sam took to the songs like a fish to water. Tony did none too shabby keeping up on bass, too.
Of course, the evening began with Interpol’s last show of their make-up tour with U2, who cancelled their “360 Tour” after Bono needed back surgery, leaving Interpol with nothing else to do but replace tour dates with a club/theater tour (well, they didn’t have to, but thank God they did!). Their final show happened to be in South Florida, and the they took to the stage at the Fillmore in fine form. I was able to catch one complete song while being jostled by girls screaming like they were at a Jonas Brothers show. Here’s “Evil”:
Things were a bit calmer with the opening act, Twin Tigers. I captured them performing “Sexless Love” and another song, which I do not know the title of, but was probably their best song that night– damn catchy:
But the highlight of the night came at Churchill’s with the honest-to-goodness fun of the aged punk rockers in fine form. Still haunted by “Cigaretello,” so here’s the video from back in the day:
Everyone was in top form. Guitarist Dan Hosker is still as precise as ever for a punk rocker. Rob still screams with abandon, damn the health of his throat (good things these reunion are so sporadic). And for no rehearsal, Sam took to the songs like a fish to water.
Of course, the evening began with Interpol’s last show of their make-up tour with U2, who cancelled the “360 Tour” after Bono needed back surgery, leaving Interpol with nothing else to do but replace tour dates with a club/theater tour (well, they didn’t have to, but thank God that did!). Their final show happened to be in South Florida, and the they took to the stage at the Fillmore in fine form. I was able to catch one complete song while being jostled by girls screaming like they were at a Jonas Brothers show. Here’s “Evil”:
Independent Ethos 