Kweder does it his way

Music Row
By Brian Rademaekers

When it comes to defining the guts and feel behind Philly-style rock ’n’ roll, there’s hardly a better example than Kenn Kweder.
Kweder is fiercely loyal to his hometown, a kind of patron saint to all those who have spent countless nights scrambling around the city’s bars and nightclubs trying to make a buck.
Having recently moved to Port Richmond from Fishtown, the Southwest Philly native has done stints in neighborhoods all over the city during his three-decade music career.
Kweder broke out in 1972 when he splattered the city with a poster that had his name and one word — Folk — paired with the unsettling image of Jack Ruby offing Lee Harvey Oswald. It was a disconcerting billboard that got him blacklisted from some clubs. But it also got a Kweder-buzz humming around Philly and set the tone for his music, a weird blizzard of folk, rock and punk. Implied in the now-infamous image was the notion that there ought to be some level of danger and risk in art and music.
And if there is one thing that can be said about his career, it has been his insistence that things be done the Kweder way. He rocketed into the spotlight of the mid-to-late ’70s rock scene, jamming with the likes of Elvis Costello, Patti Smith and the Ramones.
For a while, big-name recruiters like the Arista label dogged Kweder in an attempt to get him a contract. But those offers, he says, came with the stipulation that he ditch his band, then the Secret Kidds, and come to New York.
Kweder couldn’t do that. Besides, he figured, one concession would just lead to a long list of other creative constraints.
"It was just something I wasn’t going to do, man," says Kweder, 55. "It literally would have killed me."
So Kweder has rolled on, never really giving up control of his own work and direction.
He’s put out a handful of albums, popped up in Rolling Stone magazine, and had his song, The Ballad of Manute Bol, featured in an ESPN documentary about the former 76ers player.
Those are just a few of the strange places the Philly rocker has managed to surface while nurturing a career that has been largely financed by personal funds and gifts and loans from believers. But what is most impressive, perhaps, is his tenacity. Kweder is an enigmatic dynamo, powered by god-knows-what, who has been cranking out music since adolescence, even in the face of seeming futility.
Last year, Kweder quit his 17-year run as a bartender, evoking a kind of seedy, booze-soaked Charles Bukowski existence that stretched on for close to two decades.
"It was great, something I really liked. I got to meet talented people, untalented people, all sorts of real kaleidoscope-type personalities, which is great for songwriting," explains Kweder.
Kweder seems as dedicated as ever to his craft. "I gig about four nights a week, wherever I can, and I’m always talking to people and looking for somewhere else to play," Kweder said.
Musically, his long career has been a whirlwind of styles, changing about as often as the lineup of musicians he plays with. Much of his work is like a schizophrenic mix between Don McLean, Bob Dylan, Daniel Johnston and the Violent Femmes.
The common thread that runs through all the years of recording and bands is Kweder’s surging energy, quirky creativity and masterful vocals.
Finding out where he will be from night to night is bit tricky, but you can subscribe to his e-mail list at kwedersdigest@gmail.com for updates.
If you’re looking to soak up Kweder’s massive body of work, it’s hard to beat Kwederology Volume 1 and Kwederology Volume 2, which highlight 53 tracks from ’72 on.
And even if you haven’t been hanging in rock joints since the 1970s, Kweder and a friend recently went to the trouble of sorting through hundreds of taped performances to release A Million Light Years of Kenn Kweder. The DVD retrospective, available at AKA music, is loaded with great live performances, candid crowd interaction, and some bizarre intoxicated rants.
Pure rock ‘n’ roll folly.
"It’s kind of embarrassing, but also honest, I guess," laughs Kweder. "And a lot of fun." ••

Check it out . . .
Who: Ken Kweder
What: Philly’s patron saint of rock joints.
When: Sunday, Jan. 27, at 8 p.m. at the Tin Angel, Second Street below Market.