Cipriano Ortega

Host Mama Jill:
Our next guest on Colorado Soul Stories is the very soulful Northsider, artist Cipriano Ortega. Cipriano is an original resident of Northwest Denver with deep roots. He and I met during COVID while I searched Instagram for local musicians to play my socially distant outdoor art walk.

At the time, Cipriano accepted my invitation and, unbeknownst to me, debuted his band for the first time in my front yard. Folks were captivated by his unique and original songs. Our conversation is happening just months after the launch of his first album, Lolo House, which was conceived during an artist residency in Breckenridge last summer.

During our conversation, we explore his creative process and how art reflects the artist. We talk about home and how place influences our lives. I was happy to hear he has a lovely relationship with his artist parents—and we revisit a thread that seems to be flowing through these recent podcasts: how art can be a form of activism.

We finished the session with Cipriano sharing a few riffs on his custom-built two-string bass. I left this visit feeling very proud to know this special Colorado artist.

Host Mama Jill:
Hi there! We are at Stewart Street Studios again—you might hear my dog barking in the background, hopefully not! We’re with longtime Northsider Cipriano Ortega, and we’re gonna reminisce a little bit and talk about what’s new—namely, a brand-new album. But first, welcome!

Guest Cipriano:
Thank you. Yeah, happy to be here.

Host Mama Jill:
It’s so good to have you. Cipriano has been at Stewart Street before, back in 2020. Somehow we got connected when I was organizing an outdoor, socially distant COVID art walk in the neighborhood. We were looking for music to play in people’s yards, to cheer everybody up along with the art—and Cipriano brought his band and blew us all away.

Guest Cipriano:
Yeah, that was the first show I think I ever did with the two-string low rock setup.

Host Mama Jill:
Okay!

Guest Cipriano:
Yeah, I remember. In 2020, that’s when it all kind of started—discovering the two-string slide bass through watching The Sopranos. I revisited the show that summer, and I remember—I think it’s season two, episode six—Meadow Soprano is watching MTV and Morphine is on there. They get like a minute of screen time in the show, and then the end credits roll with “Buena” by Morphine.

I had already been toying with the idea of a one-string bass because I figured I could play that. It seemed simple enough. At the time, I was working over near Regis at Sipping and Painting too.

Host Mama Jill:
Oh, I remember!

Guest Cipriano:
And that’s when it all started. So it's been about five years now.

Host Mama Jill:
So five years that you’ve gone from there and just—yeah?

Guest Cipriano:
Yeah. Let’s see—maybe five years and six different basses later.

Host Mama Jill:
Did you build them all?

Guest Cipriano:
I had a big hand in designing and building them. But I want to give a huge shoutout to my close friend—he’s a luthier of 30-plus years, a musician, an alchemist—and a wizard.

Host Mama Jill:
Wow!

Guest Cipriano:
The guitar wizard—Scott Quist. He lives over in Wheat Ridge. I remember bringing him one of my first ever two-string basses. He wasn’t turned off by the idea, for one. And then I started bringing other parts, doing what I could, but I needed more expertise. We became friends, and now I’m actually working on producing two of his albums. He’s recorded over 20 tracks—about two albums’ worth of material.

Host Mama Jill:
So when you say you’re producing, what does that mean?

Guest Cipriano:
For me, in this project with Scott—he laid down all of the tracks himself. He played everything, sang, and recorded it all on a state-of-the-art digital recording interface. That was 23 years ago! Life happened, and the recordings sat. Years ago, I talked to him about helping with production. Now we’re pulling the tracks off and mixing them, exporting from that console into a modern digital setup.

So for me, it's more about archiving and producing in that way—also mixing, panning left and right. Fundamental stuff, but really important to help an artist have their frequencies heard properly.

Host Mama Jill:
Frequencies—yes! I like that.

Guest Cipriano:
Yeah.

Host Mama Jill:
I’m learning a little about that myself.

Guest Cipriano:
That’s how it starts—rudimentary. And it’s always good to revisit it that way too.

Guest Cipriano:
So, yeah... there was that. That’s awful. And then it’s like, okay, now I gotta go up to Breckenridge. And I thought it was some sort of sign.

And then, my dad was scheduled last summer for double knee replacement surgery. I knew I wouldn’t really be around as much as I’d like to be for that, and that was a challenge too—living with that, being separate from it... and yet still so close. I mean, I’m still in Colorado.

Host Mama Jill:
Yeah.

Guest Cipriano:
But I don’t—I don’t drive. At the moment, currently. So I had to depend on other people for transportation, and just being—like I said—about an hour away, but it felt so far.

Host Mama Jill:
Mm-hmm.

Guest Cipriano:
The title of the album is Lolo House. “House and a home” was a huge part of the genre of this album—being in a place. And I like that you said "displaced on purpose," because that’s exactly what it was. I wanted to transport myself somewhere else.

All the albums I admire—that’s what they would do. They’d make makeshift studios and create these iconic albums. The Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin come to mind... and The White Stripes—I believe their second album was recorded in their living room.

Host Mama Jill:
Wow.

Guest Cipriano:
I wanted to have that experience—and I’m really glad I did. But yeah, home, house, and my folks were definitely on my mind. Pretty consistently. It was either me and my music—or reflecting on the people I wasn’t around. It was one of the first summers I was gone for that long—from everyone.

Host Mama Jill:
Right.

Guest Cipriano:
There was an article in Westword—a wonderful article—but a lot of people interpreted it like I was homesick or sad, or that I felt really alone. But I did that on purpose.

Now, this is the second summer—about a year later—and when I look at my parents and spend summer in Denver again, I appreciate it so much more.

Host Mama Jill:
Oh yeah.

Guest Cipriano:
I miss certain aspects of Breckenridge, sure, but now I can come back to Denver and see summer in a different light. It’s a whole new perspective. And I love that—going away and coming back. Revisiting a place. Seeing how you fit into that context.

Host Mama Jill:
Makes you more aware.

Guest Cipriano:
Exactly.

Host Mama Jill:
I write about that a lot. In my book—I left because I thought I needed to. To help myself grow. I didn’t really want to, I don’t think. But I made myself go.

Guest Cipriano:
Sure.

Host Mama Jill:
I was gone for two years. But boy, was I ready to come back.

Guest Cipriano:
Yeah.

Host Mama Jill:
I’m a Colorado person.

Guest Cipriano:
Right. I didn’t think I would get the residency. I didn’t think I was going to get it. Then I got the news in October. And that’s kind of another conversation too—which I’ll respectfully discuss. I had bandmates I was working with before the album, and they’re not on it.

Host Mama Jill:
Okay.

Guest Cipriano:
I had told them about the residency, probably a little less than a year in advance. They seemed eager, but when summer 2024 came around, they weren’t available. So I found myself in this position—do I make a solo album where I’d have to do everything? Which I didn’t want to do.

Luckily, Brett Batterman—who had recorded and worked with us on the EP—he expressed interest in drumming. And he came up. I think just two weekends.

Host Mama Jill:
To your residency?

Guest Cipriano:
Yeah, to lay down the drums. Then we spent the rest of the summer building on that—bass and drums were the foundation. And then came the shift: I thought I was going to make one kind of album with one group, and ended up making something entirely different.

And honestly, I couldn’t be more grateful. Doug Carmichael—an incredible saxophonist—played baritone, tenor, and alto sax on the album. He harmonized with himself. He’s in a Morphine cover band, so he gets that Dana Colley feel—not copying, but channeling the low rock energy.

Then there’s Brett Billings—his brother Brian was a close friend and mentor of mine who passed away. Brett plays harmonica and lap steel on the album. Brian always talked about him, and in the back of my head I thought, “It would be really cool to work with him.”

Host Mama Jill:
Wow.

Guest Cipriano:
He’s an experienced bluesman. Played with bluegrass bands, taught at Swallow Hill, opened for ZZ Top… really seasoned.

And then Cortland Carpenter, an accomplished cellist, played on the track Promise. Aston Lopez, a guitarist and Guitar Center instructor, played on it too.

Everything fell into place naturally. It was a contrast from what I expected, but I had to make executive artistic decisions—and I’m really proud of it.

Host Mama Jill:
It looks snazzy too!

Guest Cipriano:
Yeah! That’s thanks to Todd Pearson—his photography. He came up one weekend. I had the concept drawn out already, and I love working with people who appreciate clear vision. I don’t like wasting anyone’s time. I say, “Here’s what I want,” and then we collaborate.

Collaboration is a beautiful thing when everyone knows their role and is happy to play it. I’m eternally grateful to all of them.

Host Mama Jill:
Sounds great. Do you play out anymore?

Guest Cipriano:
I do. But Doug Carmichael is in like 20 different bands, so he told me after recording, “I had fun, but I can’t commit to playing live.” My other saxophonist wasn’t interested either.

So I’m working with a new baritone player named Garrett. We’re rehearsing to play this album live. First show is June 27th at The Pearl (aka Mercury Café) for a Pride show. Then High Dive on August 21st.

It’s like rebuilding the ship—this album is the blueprint. I tell Garrett and others: you don’t have to play exactly like the players on the album, but you need to understand the feel. It’s more challenging than I realized. It’s not complexity—it’s groove. Once it fits, it sounds like Lolo House. It sounds like low rock. It sounds like me.

Host Mama Jill:
Just like the recording—getting different people together—it’s another challenge. But that feeds into the creative process, right?

Guest Cipriano:
Definitely. It helps you grow. I truly wish everyone the best. We all learned something from each other. Life keeps going. Sometimes people grow apart, sometimes they come back together. I never want to speak in finalities. It’s an ebb and flow.

Host Mama Jill:
Yeah, everybody loves drama…

Guest Cipriano:
[Laughs] I could go into the White Stripes and Black Keys, but I won’t.

Host Mama Jill:
In music—for sure.

Guest Cipriano:
Yeah. But it all worked out. I learned a lot—still do. Every day, something new.

Host Mama Jill:
That keeps our brains fresh. Keeps us younger.

Guest Cipriano:
Absolutely. I believe in humility, striving for the best, and making things you feel good about leaving behind.

Host Mama Jill:
Yes.

Guest Cipriano:
I’ve had to redefine success. For me, if I’m long gone, and someone finds Lolo House on a dusty shelf, pops it into a vintage CD player—I’m alive again.

Host Mama Jill:
Absolutely.

Guest Cipriano:
Like Robert Johnson—when I play him, he’s right there with me. That’s the power of recorded music. You’re etching yourself into time. Your presence remains.

Host Mama Jill:
I love that.

Guest Cipriano:
It’s a frequency—moving through the air. Like a painting, which hangs on a wall—but music? You pick it up, open it, play it. You're physically handling me.

Host Mama Jill:
Exactly. I resurrected my turntable over there—loving going through my old records.

Guest Cipriano:
That’s great.

Host Mama Jill:
For me, success is just having the time and opportunity to make something. And make it how you want to.

Guest Cipriano:
That’s what this debut album taught me. Years of working with different people led to this. And Lolo House is the archival moment that captures it all.

 

Mama Jill:
Mm-hmm. Yeah, for sure. A lot. I mean, how me and my father talk about music production—he's unfamiliar with it. And also my mother as well. I remember she would sometimes get on me 'cause I order things online—music gear—and I'd see a guitar pedal or whatever and I’m like, “I'm gonna get this.”

Cipriano Ortega:
Yeah.

Mama Jill:
And usually, 90% of the time, I know why I’m gonna get it. And sometimes they don’t work, but most of the time they do. But she was kind of getting on me, like, “Son, why are you buying all this stuff?” And I finally explained to her—“Look, it’s like a color on a palette.”

Cipriano Ortega:
Yeah.

Mama Jill:
“This gives me something sonically that I want within a frequency to use.” And I think she finally got it.

Cipriano Ortega:
Okay.

Mama Jill:
And then with my father too—I think he got it as well—the explanation of layers and composition. You know, laying that out and drafting something, then building it up to its final version.

Cipriano Ortega:
It's not just one thing.

Mama Jill:
No, it’s many moving parts.

Cipriano Ortega:
Yeah, and again, I think that’s what theater taught me as well. It’s not just the actors—it’s the script. It’s not just the script—it’s the director. It’s not just the director—it’s the producer. It’s not just the producer—it’s the theater. I mean, I could go on and on and on.

Mama Jill:
Right.

Cipriano Ortega:
It’s a collaborative effort. So understanding that, within making music, makes it a lot more approachable—at least for me. Sometimes it's overwhelming, but most of the time, it's like: okay, what are we gonna do? What microphones are we gonna use? What amps? What guitar? What kind of pickup is in the guitar? Again, it’s all coloration.

Mama Jill:
Mm-hmm. Coloration, yeah. I love it.

So another thing you do is—you produced a play last year. Writing a play—was that a new thing for you?

Cipriano Ortega:
In the sense of actually being given the opportunity to do so—yes. The show, Cheyenne, which was last year in May, actually started off as a college assignment for a drama class I took at Metro in about 2014. I think it was 2014. It was like—write a 10-minute one-act.

And I went through a, well, in my perception at the time, a grueling breakup with this person. So I wrote it about an artist in the ‘90s who's going through a breakup and is also working on a painting, a commission for somebody—and then he kills himself.

Mama Jill:
Oh, of course. (laughing softly)

Cipriano Ortega:
So that was the young 20-year-old version of it. I sat on it for a while, and I’m glad I did. Then I was invited by some local theater folks doing stuff at the Mercury Café—this was probably 2018. They asked, “Do you have anything you’ve worked on?” and I was like, “Well, I’ve got this little script.”

So I developed it further. At that time, my grandfather had recently passed—so I guess actually that would’ve been 2020. I was watching my mother go through her grieving process, watching myself, and seeing my grandfather going through dementia and dying, essentially. So I developed the idea further.

What if it’s about a woman whose father had already passed, and she’s working on a painting with her boyfriend? They’re working on a commission. That was that version.

Then I got the opportunity to put it on through Control Group Productions and Flamboyant Theatre. That was a whole falling out thing, too—but I’m still grateful to that gentleman, regardless of where we stand now.

Mama Jill:
Right.

Cipriano Ortega:
He was still pivotal. And I don't like to ignore people who were part of something even if they're no longer part of it.

Anyway, then the idea evolved again: what if the father isn’t dead—but is dying of dementia?

So then the cast became: Lisa, the art dealer; Rodrigo, the boyfriend; Frank, the father figure; and Cheyenne, the female artist. A cast of four, set in a one-bedroom apartment—not really set in a specific city, it could be anywhere.

I designed Cheyenne as a more established artist. Rodrigo, they’re together, and he’s using her to level up. They’re collaborating on a commission—but there’s a lot of conflict. Artistic differences. They both see identity in art differently. And then Frank—the father—has moments of clarity and moments where he forgets everything.

So that’s how the play came to be. It was a 10-year process.

Mama Jill: And that's a whole nother story as well too, because when I did that, I lost my voice for five years.

Cipriano: Wow.

Mama Jill: Yeah. Physically, living in that kind of lifestyle, it suppressed so much that a physical action that became a handicap happened. Obviously there were other elements to it, but that was the biggest thing — I physically lost my voice 'cause I wasn't voicing how I was feeling.

Cipriano: So once I gained my voice back — and it started in 2014 and it wasn’t until 2019 that I actually could even sing — I always forget about that 'cause I feel so beyond it, but there are still moments where I’m humbled by it. So getting that second chance and being reborn in that way, I think it’s really shown me how and what I want to get out of life as well.

Mama Jill: Which is so important. I'm so glad you got your voice back.

Cipriano: Yeah, me too. That would've been a bummer if I didn't. It was a long process, but I'm really glad to be on the other side of it.

Mama Jill: Did you just work through that yourself, or did you get help?

Cipriano: No, I had a lot of different voice pathologists, did a lot of different scopes, saw a lot of different experts. Then I worked with a couple different voice therapists and physical therapists, and finally relearned how to speak — essentially — and how to reset my neck muscles, my laryngeal muscles, my jaw muscles, and everything within my body to learn how to talk again and sing again, too.

Mama Jill: Mm-hmm. So there's a metaphor there.

Cipriano: Yeah.

Mama Jill: With the physically not being able to sing and being stifled, it sounds like.

Cipriano: Yes, mm-hmm. And what was great about that time period though is that I really got more into production, and namely into guitar tone. So I was like, well, I can't really sing, but I can still play instruments. And I remember, I have this journal from that time, and it’s full of production notes. It’s full of how to record guitar, different tunings, different types of pickups.

So I look to myself — my older self in that time period, or younger self I should say — felt older. And just realizing I was still working. I still had this drive and this desire to make music.

Mama Jill: You needed to.

Cipriano: And I remember promising myself, like if I got through that, I would pursue making music and just be grateful for that opportunity. And again, saying that even now in this moment, I still have to remind myself of that.

Because again — I don't know why I'm going back to The Sopranos — but like, I think it's the end of the fifth season where Tony Soprano gets shot by his aged uncle, and he almost dies. And the writers are so clever because they do this whole thing of like, well, Tony survives, and he's out of the hospital, and he looks to his sister and he says, “Every day is a gift.”

And so he tries to live in that mindset. But again, he’s in the mob and he’s Tony Soprano, right? So life slowly creeps back in and you get back into your rhythms, and you forget you were given a second chance. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that either.

But I saw that, and I finished the show recently, and I was reminded of that — of like, oh, I remember those days. And I miss those days. And I can still bring those days within me.

Mama Jill: Oh yeah.

Cipriano: But again, it’s interesting — I don’t want to lie too much in the victimhood mentality either, because I just don’t like feeling stagnant. Because when I start feeling stagnant is when I have either too much time on my hands or I’m not outputting something.

I live with my folks and I’m around other people who are creative types — they’re always doing something. You know, my dad had his hip replacement surgery a couple weeks back and a couple days after, he was already back to painting.

Mama Jill: Oh, look at that.

Cipriano: Back to working. Because yeah — I don’t know if there’s much else. At least for people like me, and my genes, and my genetics. I don’t mind relaxing. I don’t mind just sitting on the beach in Hawaii sometimes. But I like to work.

Mama Jill: That’s a certain kind of person. I had a horrible accident a couple years ago. I couldn’t walk for five months.

Cipriano: Oh wow.

Mama Jill: And had three operations. So I couldn’t think. All I could do was maybe watch a little TV for three weeks. But my mom would come over — she’s creative as well — and she saw that I was a bit at a loss, you know, because I’m not somebody who likes to just sit around.

Cipriano: Sure, sure.

Mama Jill: And she’s like, “You’ve got to find something to do that you can do.” Right? There’s not so much I could do, but I ended up watercoloring. And that gave me a purpose every day. And thank goodness, you know?

Cipriano: Yeah.

Mama Jill: Not everybody is like that.

Cipriano: Yeah, for sure.

Mama Jill: And on that note, when we were talking about identity — how we see ourselves — it occurred to me when you were speaking that we are kind of different depending on the situation.

Cipriano: Definitely.

Mama Jill: We’re always ourselves, but different things come out in different situations.

Cipriano: Mm-hmm.

Mama Jill: You know? I mean, I have a girlfriend that’s always in charge.

Cipriano: Mm-hmm.

Mama Jill: So I kind of sit back and let her be in charge.

Cipriano: Right.

Mama Jill: Whereas when I’m with my dear husband, I need to be in charge.

Cipriano: Right.

Mama Jill: Because he’s not. And it’s okay.

Cipriano: Mm-hmm.

Mama Jill: And I can do both.

Cipriano: That’s good.

Mama Jill: Each one is fine.

Cipriano: That’s good to know — those different perspectives. And I think, you know, as a writer and in designing characters, it’s good to know how they fit in those narratives. So it’s fascinating to approach life in the same way — using yourself as a character study and giving yourself opportunities to just observe yourself.

And also try not to judge yourself too much. Just be like, oh, that’s interesting — just to see what comes up psychologically for yourself. And certain things you think you may have put on the shelf and you’re okay with… and then they come back, and you’re like, “Oh, I guess I wasn’t okay with that.”

Mama Jill: Right.

Cipriano: So… and just being kind to yourself. I mean, it’s hard for me to be kind to myself at times. I’m a very calculative person. I really take my time on things and I really like to do my research. But it’s hard to do research on life completely when you’re living it.

Mama Jill: Yes, to have all the time you like.

Cipriano: And I think for me too — I am a teacher and a facilitator for a lot of different populations, but the main population I connect with the most is the elderly population. Or, people who have lived longer than I have — that’s how I say it.

And just seeing how they conducted their lives, and live within their worlds and their stories and experiences… they just inform me with their wisdom.

As a child, my closest friends and caretakers were my aunt and my grandmother. They were my first socializing people beyond my parents.

So one of the first things I ever built out of Tinker Toys was a walker.

Mama Jill: Oh!

Cipriano: Because my grandmother had a walker. And I was like, “That’s kind of cool-looking.” Or I built like a little cane — 'cause they had canes and walkers. I was reflecting that.

So I think there’s always been this element of age and death. And I don’t say that in a bad way — it’s just the way it was.

From that point, I studied a lot of Eastern philosophies, and the number one thing that attracted me the most was Japanese bushido — the whole samurai approach of living obsessed with death. How one lives conducts how one dies.

And you know, I have Apache warrior blood on my mother’s side. So finding those nuanced connections and just living with the idea of knowing that you’re going to die every day — for me, that helps me.

Mama Jill: I would assume it reminds you to make the most of it.

Cipriano: Yeah. And for me, making the most of it is being gracious that I have the time and the physical body to make music. So right now, that’s always my number one choice. Cipriano: …sense to me. Like, versus when I—you know, 'cause Morphine is the biggest influence, and The White Stripes, with this band, with my band, and with this album, Lolo House.

And I go back to Morphine because, you know, they were all in Boston. And during the nineties there was a rent freeze.

Mama Jill: Oh.

Cipriano: You know, so people couldn't raise the rent in a certain area. So Mark Sandman of Morphine—the vocalist and two-string slide bassist—had this huge loft. He called it the Hi-n-Dry studio. And it was his apartment, but also a studio. It was a place where people would gather and make music.

Mama Jill: Mm-hmm.

Cipriano: And obviously they didn’t have the internet back then. But my point is—time, I think, and resources were much different back then. And I think that’s where some envy and jealousy happens. 'Cause I wish that was the case for me.

Mama Jill: Mm-hmm.

Cipriano: But I still, obviously, have my own studio and my community as well. But it’s just different—because it’s a different era.

Mama Jill: Well, it’s very expensive. My very first segment was with Joe DeRose—

Cipriano: Mm-hmm.

Mama Jill: Do you know who that is?

Cipriano: Mm-hmm.

Mama Jill: Do you remember hearing about a coffee house called Muddy’s?

Cipriano: Yeah.

Mama Jill: Okay. He was the founder of that place.

Cipriano: Oh wow. Okay. That’s cool.

Mama Jill: When I was in high school—

Cipriano: Wow.

Mama Jill: I would go there because we were welcome. It was just coffee—no alcohol. But he and I chatted about how he was so able to do that because rent was cheap.

Cipriano: Yeah. Right.

Mama Jill: So they could be welcoming to anyone.

Cipriano: Exactly.

Mama Jill: Anyone. And we were kind of being frustrated that there aren’t as many places where you can welcome just about anyone, and they can hang out as long as they want.

Cipriano: Yeah.

Mama Jill: Because the rent's so high. People have got to turn tables.

Cipriano: Mm-hmm. Yeah. Time is money and all that.

Mama Jill: Yeah. But, you know, they had a rent freeze in Boston. Why can’t we do stuff like that?

Cipriano: I don’t know. Maybe it’ll happen, you know?

Mama Jill: Yeah.

Cipriano: Gotta think positive, for sure. But it’s this bigger, more menacing presence—regardless of who or what side you may perceive to be on. The simple fact of the matter is: I think the powers that be—whomever they may be—are just intimidated by the uncontrollable elements of art, and community, and creativity.

Mama Jill: Hmm.

Cipriano: Because I think being creative is an act of revolution in and of itself. You can change people’s perspectives. You can create a music revolution. You can create so much just from making art.

Mama Jill: Yeah.

Cipriano: And I think their response to that is just to make things so impossible—to make community gatherings, or make art, or have the time to even think creatively. 'Cause I see so many people who want to be [creative], but they’re so exhausted from the multiple jobs they’re doing.

Mama Jill: Right.

Cipriano: Not just one job—they’re doing multiple jobs. Including myself. And just at the point of being done with a day, you just want to veg out and watch TV.

Mama Jill: You need time and space to be able to.

Cipriano: Yeah. You need time to cultivate yourself and understand yourself and explore spiritually. They just don’t want to give us that time.

Mama Jill: Yeah. Whoever they are… I know who to blame.

Cipriano: Yeah.

Mama Jill: But that has been a theme. This is my third segment—

Cipriano: Yeah.

Mama Jill: —and talking about different forms of… well, we were talking with Joe about whether we took part in group protests earlier.

Cipriano: Mm-hmm.

Mama Jill: And we both agreed that that wasn’t our thing.

Cipriano: Yeah.

Mama Jill: But that’s not the only way to make a difference.

Cipriano: Yeah.

Mama Jill: Clearly art. Storytelling.

Cipriano: Mm-hmm.

Mama Jill: Having a place where people can come and everybody’s welcome—for civil discourse.

Cipriano: Yeah.

Mama Jill: You know, so at least we can try to still do those things.

Cipriano: Mm-hmm.

Mama Jill: And encourage other people however we can.

Cipriano: Yeah.

Mama Jill: But yeah, it is a bit of a tragedy to lose… I feel like we’re losing character. Charm.

Cipriano: Mm-hmm.

Mama Jill: History.

Cipriano: Mm-hmm. Yeah. For sure. Definitely.

Mama Jill: Um… and then, yeah.

Cipriano: I mean, you look at Detroit and—similar kind of situation as well. I just remember watching an Apple TV interview with Jack White, and he’s going around to all these areas—his original studio or what I think was called The Gold Dollar, it was a bar and venue where The White Stripes played a lot—and it’s all gone too.

Mama Jill: Wow.

Cipriano: So it’s not just here.

Mama Jill: No.

Cipriano: And again, that doesn’t excuse it either way, but like—it’s just part of the industry of capitalism and just living in America and this illusion or desire for progress and development and…

Mama Jill: Well, and I think growing population and whatever. So our population is distracted—

Cipriano: Mm-hmm.

Mama Jill: —perhaps a little bit, with too many ways to get information.

Cipriano: Yeah.

Mama Jill: So to distill it is almost impossible.

Cipriano: Right. And also again—to have the time to distill it.

Mama Jill: Yeah.

Cipriano: The time to step away from whatever you may perceive as your reality. So… yeah. It’s interesting times.

Mama Jill: Very interesting times.

Cipriano: Yeah.

Mama Jill: Wow. I turned it on!

Cipriano: Oh yeah, no worries.

Mama Jill: So we’re listening to Cipriano just messing about…

Cipriano: Yeah.

Mama Jill: How does it sound through the mic? I’m curious.

Cipriano: It sounds really cool to me.

Mama Jill: That’s cool.

Cipriano: Yeah. So I’m still refining this little acoustic guitar, but I bought—this is a Chris—it’s called a Chris guitar. One of my favorite things to do is with my friend Matt Jaramillo. He has a studio just over here—by the chapel, this church.

Mama Jill: Oh, he works at Regis?

Cipriano: Yeah. He’s a security guard there, but he’s also an accomplished drummer and one of my very closest friends. Our “boys night out” is: we go to Bardo, talk music and life and etc., and then we go to the Brass Armadillo.

Mama Jill: Oh!

Cipriano: And some of the drums that you hear on Lolo House are from Brass Armadillo.

Mama Jill: For those who don’t know what that is…

Cipriano: Yeah, go ahead.

Mama Jill: Giant antique store.

Cipriano: Giant antique store. It’s huge. You could get lost in it for days. And so I found this little Chris guitar with its case. I think it was, like, they wanted 200 bucks or something. I was like, I’m not gonna pay 200. And then finally it went down to, like, I think 70—and then it was 15% off that day. So I think I got it for like 40 bucks or something.

Mama Jill: Nice!

Cipriano: So most of the gear I put on this thing is more expensive than the actual guitar. But what’s so great is it had good bones.

Mama Jill: Uh-huh.

Cipriano: And I had a pickup and this different tailpiece from another guitar. And again, thanks to Scott Lofquist, we put this together. And now that’s where it’s at.

And The White Stripes as well too, like the White Stripes, um, you know, I think it's called Little Bird, um, curb My Appetite is a response to that song. And Astro is another song they did on their. Debut album and Jeanie is kind of response for that. And I wrote Jeanie both in the north side, lyrically. Yes.

 

I was walking near, um, north High School, uh, kind of late at night and just saw the street lights and I was walking by the holiday theater and I've done some stuff there. And, um. Just had this idea of, you know, theater lights and all those stuff, and that's where the first lyric came in. Yeah. To my mind of, do you see my name in lights?

 

And it started off as a poem and I recited it as a poem a few times when I would do some open mics with, uh, poetry sharing. And then I was in San Francisco, um, sometime, I can't remember now, and I was with my partner and she, um, was doing a dance residency there. And, uh. We were staying with this woman who's in her nineties, who her husband wrote a song for Janis Joplin.

 

She lives right on Haight Street. She lives literally across the street where Jimi Hendrix's house is. And it's still there. It's still there. They didn't, she, and what's amazing about her is she really likes my music. This 93-year-old woman, she's great. Yeah. Um, but my point is, is like, yeah, I wrote it when I was walking around San Francisco.

 

I really, it just 'cause I wanted to do. Something that was very rudimentary.

 

So that driving force, that's the whole motif pretty much. Right.  

 

Mama Jill: I imagine you walking Yeah. To that music.

 

Cipriano: Well that's the thing, it's, it's amazing that you say that. 'cause like another band that's been very influential for me has been toole. Oh, and Maynard James Keenan and uh, Justin Chancellor Maynard.

 

James Keenan is the singer and lyricist. And Justin Chancellor is the bassist. And all the interviews that I've read and heard from them, they talk about how they write things when they're walking. Oh, you know, so it's funny that you say that. Yeah. I think that's the beauty of the blues for me, is just, you know, this.

 

Just that nice shuffle feel. Shuffle. Yeah. Or just it makes you wanna move, you know? Oh yeah. And I think the biggest compliment for me is when we play out live is. You can't make people dance. Right. You can tell people, good, open, clap your hands, or whatever. And they may for like a couple minutes, but if they really dig it, they're gonna be moving.

 

They can't help it. They can't help it. Right. And I, every time I see people in the audience too, that I'm like, it's the biggest compliments you can give us is that you're moving. I think so.

 

Mama Jill: I, I'm often one of those. People, I'm, I'm sorry. Excuse me. I gotta go dance. Yeah. I'm gonna go totally make a fool of myself.

 

Mm-hmm. Yeah, exactly. Yeah.

 

Mama Jill: So I gotta ask you about Jeanie. I've listened to it a couple times, 'cause I was curious 'cause, uh, in the article in the North Star Yeah. You had said that it, um, it was inspired by your walks. Mm-hmm. Um, so Genie in the lamp light, I mean, is that like a genie?

 

Cipriano: Yeah. I, I really can't give the straight answer to it. Yeah. Because I, I really don't know, because Okay. I also, uh, read Keith Richards, um, biography, and I really like what he says is that, and a col a lot of other musicians, Leonard Cohen, I read his bio, one of his biographies, and I've heard other musicians say it, it's like songs kind of exist.

 

You know, and they live in this ether and they come to you and you either wanna get up at three in the morning to record an idea of it, or you ignore it and it, and it'll move on to someone else. Yeah. So my point is, is like. I don't know where it came from. I think, you know, just, just playing with the elements of light and the limelight and the lamplight and nightlife a lot.

 

I mean the, the number one word in this album, Lolo House, is night. Yeah. Like I remember sitting down, putting on the listing, on the track list and listening to the songs. I'm like, gee, I say night a lot, but that's just where this album is. Are you a person? Yeah, I am. I think. I really like recording or, or playing music when everyone's kind of asleep.

 

And again, that lyricism to genie is that you're all asleep in your beds, right? I'm out howling at the moon. Um, so yeah, just living in the nocturnal life, and I think this sound, you know, this low rock sound is just bluesy and moody and just like. Everybody always says like, it sounds like, you know, a noir comic or mm-hmm.

 

Or black and white, you know. Okay. Smokey. Kind of feel too smokey. Yeah. That is a good description. You know, they say all those things and, and uh, you know, I gotta always tip my hat to my muse and to the towering figure that I hugely respect and always will is Mark Sandman. You know, 'cause he's the one that really showed me like.

 

My instrument, 'cause I'd played guitar and I do play guitar and I played a little piano and studied vocal performance and all that stuff has been, uh, very informative, but nothing beats just playing my two stringing bass. Right. You know, and, and a lot of people like, whoa, are you gonna move on? And, and I, I have a little bit in this album, you know, I have a, I played resonator on, on the Brighter Than the Moon, which a lot of people like that song.

 

And I, I play resonator as well too. And, but again, what I tell a lot of people as well too is like, historically. Um, back in the day, guitars still were very expensive. Mm-hmm. Like Robert Johnson, Robert Johnson, BB King, um, Bo Didley, his, the name Didley is, is, uh, is part of what I'm speaking of. So. They would makeshift guitars.

 

They'd either find little cigar boxes and they'd, you know, find, um, the broom wire, like the wire that's wrapped around a broom. Yeah. They would take that off and that would be the guitar strings. Uh, if they didn't have that as a resource, they would go to like a beam of the house and they would tie up wire onto the that and they'd.

 

Find a little bottle glass slide and make a little makeshift. Diddly bow is what? That scarcity, that creates resourcefulness. That creates creativity. And you know, you hear, you know these people who can really make incredible grooves just with one string. Right, that consistent pulse is and that like desperation of wanting to say something.

 

And sometimes, you know, one string is enough for me. So, yeah, it's a cool looking guitar. Oh, thanks. Yeah, she does a pretty cool bass. So it's cool looking bass. Yeah. I mean it's bass guitar, you know, I mean, like, I I, for people who, I don't wanna go into the whole nuance of like, I play a two string bass, I just tell 'em I play bass.

 

Yeah. But it really is. Its own little beast is a two stringing slide base. And as simple as it is at times, that I feel like on the good days I'm like, oh, it feels really simple and what I'm doing makes sense. And there's days where I'm like, there's a lot of nuance to it because you know, I don't fret my guitar.

 

Yeah. I have to, I place the slide on where the fret mark is uhhuh, but it's also very much by ear. So like I have to make sure, obviously it's in tune, but my intonation is correct because. With fretting a guitar, which there's nothing wrong with that. Right? It's always consistent because the fret is hitting the, the guitar wire is hitting the fret.

 

So, you know, that note is an A. Yeah. Versus this, I obviously know it's gonna be a certain note when I slide to it or press onto it, but it's just a different approach to playing a string instrument. Well, and there we go again. Yeah. Different mm-hmm. Noises and music people can't get Well, and that's the thing is, like for me, I love guitar.

 

I love music. Guitar, guitar, guitar. Mm-hmm. But. I like guitarists that are percussive. I like guitarists that are innovative. They not necessarily are trying to reinvent the wheel, but we can sure as heck try to try to do so. And I really feel that's what Mark Sandman did. Okay. I think I really, you know, um, a lot of people are very protective of Mark Salmon and the Boston sound, and I understand that in the band morphine, but I.

 

Just by default am the next generation of this. Mm-hmm. And I get that some people may see, you know, like this young, you know, in their eyes, kid trying to do what has been done. And that's not the case, right? I mean, yes, it sounds like morphine, but it's more than that. You're creating your own and because, and I, I respect it so much that I want to leave my mark as well too, very respectfully.

 

Yeah. And again, I think that's my martial art practice is like, there's the sensei. Mark Sandman is the sensei. Yeah. And I'm just, uh, one of the disciples. The disciples of a disciple of Sandman. So yeah. And plus what a name like his, his legal real name is Mark Sandman. Yeah. And like he lives in my dream.

 

Certainly. That's cool. And, uh, yeah, it's, it's, it's a very fascinating world to be a part of, and I remember. When I worked on my, one of the first bases I worked on was a replica of his bass, so I play left-handed. So finding left-handed guitars that look cool is very challenging. Yeah. So I meticulously put together a Mark Sandman replica of his bass, and I kid you not, I remember staying up to like two or three in the morning on eBay, just looking for very particular parts, a particular tail piece or bridge that he used or certain tuners.

 

It all fell into place. I remember like night, just night that night like I found the knob and then I found the tuners. Then I found the bridge and I'm like, somebody has to be visiting me. And I swear I still try, like go to these sites and type in the same stuff I looked for. It's been years and I cannot find anything that's close to those parts.

 

So, and oddly enough I don't play it as much as I used to. The replica of his. Because it just has such a weight to it. Mm. Like that he, he purposely, I mean, I think he was a big fan of Prince as well too, and Prince plays that, or did play that, uh, scroll guitar. Yeah. So Sandman played a scroll guitar as well too.

 

And it was funny to go to these different ERs and people who have CNC machines. Have them design these scroll guitars. 'cause it was a multi vx, multi VX premier is the one who designed that look. And, uh, so many other people now have that design because of me. And I'm not saying it like, oh, it's all thanks to me.

 

I'm just saying like, it's crazy that life, this man who found a. This base, there was like 50 bucks in a pawn shop that he was attached to because of how it looked. I fell in love with how it looked, and now other people are accessing that design as well too. So it's just cool to like. Without even trying be a part of something bigger, it's, it's connecting.

 

Yeah. There's a lot of connections there. Exactly. And that's beautiful. Yeah, it is. I mean, I, I think that those are mm-hmm. Beautiful things. Connections. Yeah. I completely agree. Yeah. Mm-hmm.

Mama Jill: Well, we're gonna, um, kind of close out here, but I wanna. Talk about where I will put things on the website where people can access your music mm-hmm.

 

And your art and all those things. You'll, we'll connect on that. Yeah. Yeah. Sounds good. Make sure that people can find out all of your mm-hmm. Creative works. And what if you, um, play a little bit as we close out? Yeah, we can do that. We may have to do multiple takes, but I don't think so, will we? I doubt it.

 

Cipriano: I'll just do the opening track of, uh. From. Lolo house, which is O Coco. So here we go.

 

Oh, Coco.

 

You are so bitter sweet, you rich, dark and deep. You rich, dark and deep. You rich, dark and deep.

 

Rich. Dark and deep.

 

Rich, dark and deep. Rich, dark and deep,

 

rich, dark and deep.

 

Oh,

 

Coco,

 

oh.

 

Oh, Coco.

 

Melt on my tongue.

 

Melt on my tongue.

 

Melt on my tongue.

 

Melt on my tongue.

 

Melt on my tongue.

 

Melt on my tongue.

 

Oh,

 

Coco,

 

oh.

 

Coco Coco co.

 

Co.

 

Mama Jill: Nice.

 

Oh, thanks. Thank you. Yeah, it's uh. It's a funny little song that happened. I, I was talking to somebody and, uh, she was an inspiration and um, then one of my strings broke. On the, the bottom one. The top the, yeah, the bottom string. The high A string. So I wrote it all in the one string and it just came out like that.

 

And, uh, so love for chocolate and uh, okay. And being a brown person and just all those brown is beautiful.

 

Mama Jill: So absolutely. Thanks for being here, Cipriano.

 

Cipriano: Thank you very much. I appreciate it.