Grunge poet: Classic rock, tanning salons and Mikal Beaton

Nick Hilbourn, Morning News
Published: June 23, 2008

Beat poets had their bongos, their dark turtlenecks, their jazz halls thick with a suffocating cloud of cigarette smoke.
Mikal Beaton has a coffee shop, at least tonight.
His bongos are a six-string guitar and in place of smoke is the lush scent of roasting coffee beans. Dressed in black with slender, black-rimmed glasses, his words are not abstractions against an unfair society, but more like soft dirges about a life lived rough, but lived well.
Beaton is originally from Detroit, where he lived on a steady diet of classic rock.
“I grew up listening to Pink Floyd, Jimi Hendrix,” he said. He even boasts a near-direct musical lineage to Bob Seger through his aunt, Colleen Beaton, who sang on Seger’s 1981 live album “Nine Tonight.”
He picked up the guitar when he was 14. His cousin taught him a few chords, everything else he learned by ear.
But that was in Detroit, he said. “I didn’t do anything musical in Detroit besides practice.”
The music came once he moved to South Carolina, to Florence, in particular.

Grunge nostalgia mixed with a curious iconoclasm
Beaton is a throwback to the sliding grunge rock of the early ’90s and, although his music has its fair share of angst, all of it has the underlying sense of traveling, whether it’s him leaving something behind or someone leaving him behind.
His opening song, “Better Day,” moved like a car through the Florence landscape — images of cars, trees and trains are laid against a steady strumming rhythm. “Better Day” encompasses, like most of his songs, a curious iconoclasm. His soaring vocals seem at odds with his downward spiraling minor chords and fragmented lyrics. It’s certainly not typical of what’s on the modern coffeehouse folk palette, but whether through skill or random luck, many of Beaton’s songs emerge with an ambient, and at times, psychedelic feel.

Entering two different worlds
“Loss of Life and Love” addressed much the same kind of topic, although it was a bit more surreal than “Better Day.” The best part was the guitar work near the end of the song. When he’s at his best, Beaton will saturate the room with his voice and his guitar, both of which carry a pristine sullenness.
Later in the set comes “Electric Burning Sunshine,” which Beaton said is an indictment of blatant materialism and self-infatuation.
“I knew a guy who was always looking at himself, went to tanning salons twice a week. There’s more important things to life,” he said. “Me, personally, I like playing with rocks. I’ve got a garden.”
To listen to his music and to talk to Beaton are to travel to two different worlds. Even between songs, he’ll make a funny quip or crack a smile. The songs, he said, are just an expression of himself and when he grins after a particularly glum song, it’s almost as if he’s saying, “My music is from me, but I am not my music.”

Under covers
Near the end of the night, he delved into several covers. Many a Radiohead fan in the audience tilted their hats to him with his emotional rendition of “High and Dry”. He did two Beatles songs. “Blackbird” was a bit rusty, but heartwarming, especially with his foot providing the percussion for the song. Better was his cover of “Rocky Raccoon,” which was fun and simple. Weezer’s “Island In The Sun” topped off the list quite nicely.
Interestingly, the darker feel of his original songs didn’t carry over into his covers.

Happiness and the ol’ Switcheroo
Why does he gravitate toward the heavier stuff in his songs?
“I tend to write more when things aren’t going so well,” he said. “It’s easier. It’s just in my nature.”
Early on, music was an escape for him, Beaton noted, so he’s not surprised that much of his work gives off a darker feel. But for the listener, it’s somewhat surprising. Especially, if they talk to him during a break. Beaton’s a happy guy, excited to be back making music again, no matter where he happens to be.
Along with his solo act, he’s also playing in a local cover band called The Revolving Doors. The name derives from the group’s shows. After each set, Beaton said, we switch instruments.
Consequently, Beaton can also play drums, bass and keys, although he has a special place reserved for the guitar.
“I’m just trying to express myself ...”
Dressed head-to-toe in black, sporting slender rimmed glasses and shoulder-length hair, Mikal Beaton seems foreign to our time. Occasion-
ally it feels as if he stepped out of a time machine with Pearl Jam playing in his walkman.
All of his songs carry a certain heaviness, but they’re also soaked in tenderness. When he’s finished with his show, that’s what he hopes listeners take away.
“I’m just trying to express myself, not change the world,” he said. “I’ve got thoughts and feelings inside. I hope people can appreciate the experiences (I’ve had). Everyone’s had their troubles, so hopefully they can relate.”