Ike Reilly

Rock ‘n’ roll is not about being an outsider; rock ‘n’ roll is about feeling like an outsider. When you spend just about your entire life in Libertyville, Illinois, as Reilly has, you’re supposed to be a worker, not an artist. He harbored no grand scheme to write songs, he wanted to be the characters in songs. So he toiled and survived and when he did write songs, they were escape, expression, exhilaration.

“I was just driving around in my car blasting out my songs for my friends. I can’t figure out why this happened now.” This is his explosive debut album, Salesmen And Racists (Republic/Universal), being released in July 2001, produced by Ed Tinley, Mickey Petraila (Beck, Luscious Jackson, eels), and Reilly.

Filled with edgy, blow-out-the-speakers anthems of love and lust, failure and freedom, Salesmen And Racists is that rare provocative rock ‘n’ roll album with equal measures of celebration and revolution. Just don’t expect Reilly to make a big deal out of it. “I guess the songs are revealing but who gives a shit about me?”

Reilly proves on Salesmen And Racists to be a genuine, original voice, colorful without being contrived. “I’m isolated from any scene. I keep my eyes and ears open and eavesdrop–and then I make up songs.”

At the same time they rock with raw immediacy, from the in-your-face “Last Time” to the Dylanesque collage “Hip Hop Thighs #17,” from the fashion protest “Commie Drives A Nova” to the rallying cry of “Put A Little Love In It,” from the barroom sing-along “My Wasted Friends” to the ’50s-cum-’00s exotica of “Cash Is King,” his songs are extraordinarily well-crafted.

Having previously played in bands, Reilly built a small loft recording studio, one day, he was “halfway screwing around” with a song when Tinley stopped him: “What’s that? You should really write that.” Reilly eventually created demos with Tinley, who also plays guitar, keyboards and bass, and sings background vocals on Salesmen And Racists. In fact, much of the album’s production and vocals are the original demo tracks.

“I like the offhandedness of it. Like the artists who I admire, Bob Dylan, Little Richard, Chuck Berry, The Clash. It’s not slick; it’s brash. That’s rock ‘n’ roll. ”

Those artists also retained a sense of humor in the face of uncertainty, as does Reilly. “I’m confident about singing and playing guitar. But I can barely look at anything else without saying, ‘Fuck , what’s happening here?”

A refreshing, straightforward, anti-confessional songwriter, his songs touch on feelings from here, there and everywhere, mixed with incidents from the past and hopes for the future. The feelings are true, he adds, but the facts are not necessarily about him. “There’s a lot of dishonesty in my songs. It’s not that I’m lying but I’d be a fool to open myself up.”

Today in Libertyville, he still hangs out with the guys he grew up with. “I always wanted to get out of town and I’d listen to music as an escape. In a song you can be anywhere. I stayed here and wrote –and someone found me. I haven’t left anything or anyone behind to go someplace to do this.”

For now though, Reilly is leaving. He and his band (Dave Cottini-drums, Tommy O’Donnel- bass, Phil Karnatz-guitar, Ed Tinley on piano and guitar) are touring small clubs throughout the midwest prior to the release of Salesmen and Racists.