Going public with the music
by Jason Phelps

Drawing inspiration from the reggae beats of Hawaii, street artists in Milan and the big city bustle
of Brooklyn, Public Property founder Dave Bess melds his travels into his music.

The lights were turned down low in the bar. As voices murmured, the ticking of drumsticks punctured the air. Then Public Property launched into its set — a full blast of reggae sunshine on a dark fall night.

For the first few songs, the audience members at the Mill, 120 E. Burlington St., remained in their seats. But as each second passed, more people bobbed their heads to the music. Gray-haired mothers clad in Obama gear led wide-eyed daughters to the stage. People around the room closed their eyes in unison with lead singer Dave Bess and let the music take control.

Bess looked perfectly at home at the Mill that evening. He loves nothing more than sharing his music. Mike Tallman, one of Bess’ close musical colleagues and the guitarist for the local band Euforquestra, said, “It’s a lot of work to lead a band, and I think [Bess’] dedication stems from a love of getting in front of people and bringing his music to the masses.”

Iowa City has been Bess’ home base since 2003, but he has traveled down many roads throughout his life. Whether in Hawaii, his birthplace, or the crowded streets of Brooklyn, he uses his travels to strengthen his music. Bess channels the wails of the blues, the grooves of reggae, and the finely honed chorus of a rock song into one blast.

His musical roots extend back to Honolulu, where reggae spilled out of every radio, he said. In 1992, Bess moved across the Atlantic. His mother, an English professor, used a year-long sabbatical to take the family to Florence, Italy. He was a sixth-grader at the time, experiencing a new world and beginning to experiment with guitar. It wasn’t the last time he found himself in Italy.

Back in Honolulu, he picked up the standup bass at Iolani High School. At home, he sneaked into his brother’s room and played his guitar. The only thing that stopped him was the sound of his brother arriving home. Soon enough, he got his own guitar and had no more trouble practicing.

Bess and his family never stayed grounded for long — each summer, they made excursions to Wisconsin at their lodge in Lac du Flambeau. When it came time for college, Bess said he hadn’t visited many schools. But there was one nestled in eastern Iowa that drew his attention — the UI. Besides playing music, he had begun writing while in high school, and the university had one thing many schools didn’t — a reputation as a writer’s paradise. He thought Iowa City was a nice place to develop his writing.

“I really dug the town,” the 27-year-old said, leaning casually into the back of a booth at the Deadwood, 6 S. Dubuque St.

So he decided to come to Iowa and major in English, a decision his father, Ben “Buddy” Bess, fully supported. He’d seen his son’s passion for writing at age 9. He wrote poetry that turned into short stories as he grew.

“As I listen to the songs, I feel like the lyrics are particularly strong and reflect a basic writing talent he has,” said Ben Bess.

But after David Bess’ first year at the UI, he grew restless. He felt his life slipping into a routine plan and decided to embark on adventure. So in 2000, he packed his bags, this time for Brooklyn, where his older brother lived.

“It gave me a sense of freedom — that I could do all right without the middle-class comforts of college and a structured life, even though that is what I returned to,” Bess said.

In between playing guitar and writing stories, he picked up a job with a food-catering business serving the wealthy denizens of the city.

“I worked for a lot of rich cats,” the brown-haired singer said. “It was crazy. I was serving dinner to all these big movie stars, senators, all these famous people.”

After a year working and creating, he returned to Iowa City as a UI sophomore. He thinks his time in New York helped him become more independent and gain a new sense of purpose. He was ready to turn his writing from Brooklyn into songs.

In 2001, Bess formed his first band, the Chasers, an experimental group that played funky, blues pop rock. While he admits the group didn’t shatter any musical boundaries, it was the first time he recorded original songs and started dabbling in reggae.

Before the Chasers’ star could rise, the band dissolved after Bess decided to spend his junior year in Italy, revisiting his youth, living with his girlfriend, and studying Italian. His songwriting picked up there — he kept a journal, jotting down lyrics and crafting his songs.

His interest in another form of music grew in Italy, too.

The scene was a park in Milan. He was playing his guitar, jamming with a group of Americans when a fellow student, Andy Winger of St. Paul, started to get antsy.

As Bess told it, “He kept moving around, saying, ‘Man, I can’t take it anymore,’ and then he busted the most amazing freestyle I’ve ever heard.”

That moment opened his ears to hip-hop and shattered his presumption that rap music had nothing good to say. Winger introduced Bess to such artists as Mos Def and Talib Kweli. He liked the political messages of the music, that it had something to say and a beat to dance with.

Besides writing, he used his time in Italy to get comfortable with audience members by playing weekly concerts in downtown Milan at a bar called Bar Ponte Vecchio. Much of the material he played later became Public Property songs. He played acoustic guitar and brought guests from school, such as Winger, who would freestyle while Bess strummed.

After a year in Italy, Bess returned once again to Iowa City and decided to put together a new band. With buddy Nick Narigon, he stapled fliers around town listing the pair’s musical influences and asking anyone to join. Adam Grosso, a graduate student studying percussion, saw the flier in Voxman Music Building and replied. Grosso was the only musician of the three who had recorded and produced previously. He contributed to Bess’ growth as a musician, teaching him how to record an album and how to bring out the best in their instruments.

Public Property débuted in 2003 at the American Legion Hall in Coralville, where Bess worked as a bartender, performing in front of a crowd of drunken vets.

“You can imagine, we didn’t quite fit in,” Bess said. “All these blue-collar guys were yelling, ‘Play Jimmy Buffet. Play Lynard Skynard.’ ”

At the next show, things went a little smoother. The band came up with the idea to do a Bob Marley tribute concert and pitched the idea to the Yacht Club — in 2004, an Iowa City tradition was born. With a vocal section in tow, the band rocked out in front of 300 people. This started a growing buzz in Iowa City.

The group’s second album, What’s Going Down, was recorded with musicians from Public Property that would later leave to form Euforquestra. Grosso, guitarist Matt Grundstad, and keyboardist Eric Quiner left Public Property for Euforquestra. Bess felt this allowed both bands to focus on the music they wanted to make, and he emerged from the situation with a new sense of creative direction.

He writes his songs by beginning with the music, then moving to the lyrics and later picking up his guitar or ukulele to strum chords. He continues playing chord progressions until he finds one he likes. While playing the progression, he begins humming a melody to match the music. And just because a groove he likes is upbeat doesn’t mean the lyrics will match. Bess is more concerned with what feels right for the music.

“Take ‘Marianne,’ a new song on our album,” he said. “It’s about a Filipino woman who is in an unhappy marriage, but the groove is happy. It just fits. I don’t think you should conform to a certain sound. When you make music, hopefully, you’re surprising yourself as well as surprising others.”

He wants to challenge peoples’ perspectives through his songs and enjoys singing about current troubles with a danceable beat. This is the reason reggae has always played a big part in his life: Its message of social justice inspires him.

“Dave does a great job of crafting songs around important issues in current events,” Tallman said. “It’s a true passion. He’s the sort of person who’s ready to sit down and have an open-minded debate or discussion anytime.”
Bess channeled his years on the road and mixed his musical influences to create Public Property’s new album, Work to Do, which is set to release May 11.

While creating music, he has been busy promoting it, too. As both the band’s booking agent and distributor, Bess is leery of the quick rise and fall of bands that sign with major labels. In his mind, doing it himself is the only way to make sure Public Property’s music remains pure.

“When labels find a band, they say that’s hot shit, and the band is — for a year,” he said.

Instead of employing an army of publicists, he and his band have built a grass-roots machine. They utilize the Internet to stay connected with loyal fans and gain new ones. The fan base Public Property has garnered gives Bess a reason to stay in the Midwest.

Through his travels, he has evolved from an aspiring writer living in Iowa to a bar crooner in Italy and wound up with a destination: frontman for a reggae band. Since 2003, Public Property has given him the best opportunity to grow as an artist. He said he doesn’t see the music he’s made with the band stopping anytime soon, either.

“When people ask us how long we’ll be together, I don’t know,” he said. “Hopefully, we’ll do a reunion tour when we’re 90 and suck ass.”

Public Property, Movement, Break Down

Public Property, Movement, Footprint