Posted: July 25th, 2009 | Author: black swan | Filed under: music | Tags: indie rock, interview, malkmus, music, pavement, rock | 1 Comment »
Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks: Malkmus (in blue shirt) was making literate indie rock before it was cool
Less than 10 years after the 1990s’ melancholy sunset, critical consensus continues to build that Stephen Malkmus and his old band Pavement were one of the most influential rock bands of that entire decade, forging timeless indie-ethos rock from a crucible overflowing with high art/post modern aesthetics, sardonically poetic lyrics and a new genre pastiche wherein “Exile on Main Street” loose-feeling slack rock combined with the steely song craft of one of Malkmus’ favorite bands, The Fall.
Malkmus and his current band The Jicks are currently touring – at their leisure – behind their 2008 release “Real Emotional Trash,” his fourth – and best – post-Pavement solo album.
When I woke up Malkmus at his Portland home for this interview (first published in a super-abridged version in the Austin American-Statesman), he was initially groggy. After a few yawns, the lyrically hyper-literate, ever-ironic songwriter proved to be uncannily happy to expound on his early influences, whether or not Sesame Street’s Elmo inspired a song on “Real Emotional Trash” and how he considered becoming an Austinite after the release of Pavement’s “Terror Twilight.”
Black Swan : First of all I want to thank you for taking time out to do the interview cause I know you’re super-busy. I really appreciate it.
Malkmus: (He replies totally groggy as if he literally just woke up) Yeah. No big.
Black Swan : I got the tape recorder going; so I’m just gonna roll on through (the interview).
I’ve been listening to your music for years and I’ve probably seen a zillion Pavement shows – and your solo shows too – and have enjoyed them all. But some of your recent guitar playing on “Real Emotional Trash” is ridiculously smokin’. Did you start playing when you were five? Or did you come out of the womb playing?
Malkmus: Yeah. Ummm. Let me think. Not really. I played acoustic guitar and stuff before high school. And then I played bass in a punk band. But I always thought that I was going to be a guitar player.
Back in those days, there were people like Greg Ginn and Flipper, the Butthole Surfers and the Meat Puppets who were playing punk music but they were playing it differently. I got to see them in person. And I’d rather be those guys than just the bar chord guy in the Circle Jerks, you know?
So anyway, I was into that, and then over the course of 20 years I’ve just been listening to lots of different stuff. Now I can go ahead and be myself and have a voice on guitar instead of just have it be a backing instrument, you know? (He yawns. He’s still waking up.)
And so, that’s what I’ve been doing.
Black Swan: The way The Jicks do it live…is it a little bit different without a second guitar player?
Malkmus: Well, (Jicks’ multi-instrumentalist) Mike Clark plays guitar sometimes. Depends on the song. Sometimes he plays piano. But yeah, we’ve always had a rhythm guitarist in the live outfit – like Scott (Kannenberg) from Pavement and Mike to fill out the parts that are on the albums.
It sounds like the record, sort of, you know? Mike has room to go off on some of the guitar parts he plays. He doesn’t really play the solos (exactly the same), like (for instance on) “Hopscotch Willie” on the album. But, he’s got his choice to let it go where he wants.
Black Swan: I don’t want the interview to all be about guitar playing. But then again, almost everybody in Austin plays guitar, so I think people will enjoy hearing about it.
Malkmus: (He laughs) Yeah, they have a guitar legacy in Austin. People there love guitars for some reason.
(I spare him the litany of Austin guitarists like Stevie Ray Vaughan, Eric Johnson, Paul Leary, etc…because he obviously is already familiar with Austin’s most notorious guitar players.)
Black Swan: On “Dragonfly Pie,” kinda toward the end of the song, there is something that the guitar does where it almost starts to sound like a keyboard. Is that a pedal that you use live?
Malkmus: That’s just that Ooh Wah pedal that Zvex makes. Yeah, when we did that song we were just thinking of a way to make it less Sabbath-y and (for a way it could) morph into something weirder. So I was adding some electronics on it. Like, there’s some Moog keyboard I played in the other parts of the song…just something to make it so it was not so Queens of the Stone Age, or a Sabbath-type song, you know? The chorus is never like that. But I think that’s what the goal was by treating the guitars and adding these crazy keyboards.
Black Swan: I also wanted to ask you about tunings, and then I promise this will be my last guitar question.
Malkmus: No problem.
Black Swan: I have a friend named Austin Miller that was sitting down trying to play some of your songs, and he was like, “Dude, I can’t, I can’t do it. I think there is some alternate tunings going on that I can’t figure out.”
Malkmus: (yawning) Yeah. On this record, there’s maybe…that first song, “Dragonfly Pie” is a standard one. But I’ve been doing more. I used to be doing a lot of varied (tunings). The “Drop D” is kind of the gateway on (alternate) tunings that most people begin with. I fiddled around with that in a lot of different ways. Tuning some of the lower strings to higher and lower tones. But, there was a lot of tuning the E string to C and the A string to G and variations on that. A lot of the songs are in that tuning this time. But I’ve had a couple of other tunings through the different eras. I’ve kind of settled on that G – playing things in sort of an open G basically – but with the first string tuned to C also, which is my own invention, slightly.
Black Swan: Cool!
Malkmus: That’s probably why (your friend Austin couldn’t figure out how to play some of the songs). I mean…(the alternate tunings) make the songs…you know…and I’m playing chords and some standard things where I’m not really going for a build up of dissonance of the Sonic Youth variety. We’re just going for a way to make things sound not exactly normal as we’ve been through this rock ‘n’ roll (thing) for quite a while.
Black Swan: Yeah the first time I saw you play was opening for Sonic Youth in Austin at Liberty Lunch on Wednesday, September 16, 1992.
Malkmus: Yeah…Isn’t that a restaurant now or something?
Black Swan: Yeah it’s a restaurant and an empty Intel building. So it’s really kind of sad that they paved it to put up an empty computer building where the company never even moved in.
Malkmus: Yeah, that’s bad. That was a nice place. That was like the classic Austin experience – the indoor/outdoor type place. They’ve still got those places, but that one was kind of the perfect size and stuff.
Black Swan: Yeah it had a great vibe.
Malkmus: Yeah. That was a long time ago. Good job.
(The interviewer laughs from the congratulatory compliment on being considered an old-schooler.)
Malkmus: How old were you then? Were you in college?
Black Swan: Yeah I was probably like, 23 or something. Definitely good times.
Malkmus: Yeah.
Black Swan: The song “Baltimore” on “Real Emotional Trash,” it kind sounds like the band is getting to open up, almost like the sections where you’re jamming could have been improvised in practice. Did those sections come about like that? Or were they created after more planned-out demos?
Malkmus: Yeah within reason, the “Baltimore” one, those are all parts. I just made a riff. For the end of the song, it has got a sort of generic riff. I would call it. Slightly generic, in that, I imagine it like a Who song or something. It doesn’t sound like it’s from their really rocking time. And it’s kind of rocking, but obviously not as good as them. But, towards the end we’re just going off in a crazy direction. But that one is (actually) organized.
I’d say that “Elmo Delmo” has some space in it. And the end of it – and some of the middle – wasn’t made up. Except on that take, I don’t think there was any plan on when the song was going to end. On that take (yawns) it just…it was kinda new, so…”
Black Swan: Did the song title “Elmo Delmo” off “Real Emotional Trash” come about from you being a dad now, and you probably having seen a couple of episodes of Sesame Street with “Tickle Me Elmo”?
Malkmus: (laughing) Yeah. I probably said (Elmo Delmo) cause I wouldn’t have said Elmo, but I was just looking for something slightly retarded, in a non-pejorative way, to rhyme there. Something like The Fall would do if they were kind of ganged up, but then unfortunately it was Elmo, you know?
Black Swan: It’s cool though.
Malkmus: Yeah. (Laughing) That’s the way it goes. It’s not that fun to sing anymore, I wish I had changed it. But…you know. I kind of feel dumb singing it now. But that’s what it was at the time.
Black Swan: Well, I know I seen a few shows in the past where you changed the entire words to a couple of songs. You can always do that.
Malkmus: That’s true. I could make up something else to chant there. It’s hard to make something phonetic in those parts. That came out, but I feel a little bit embarrassed sometimes singing “Elmo Delmo.” It is kind of dumb (he laughs again).
(Rallying) But it’s more about the music at that time. By song eight…by song eight you shouldn’t really be listening to the lyrics anymore (he says slightly facetiously). You should be doing your own thing. The music’s just in the background.
Black Swan: Yeah…by that point you should be…you should be inspired…doing your thing…
Malkmus: You’re there…painting, drawing, writing your great screenplay or whatever…inspired by the band (Both interviewer and Malkmus are laughing).
Black Swan: This next question – I tried to research it cause I didn’t want to ask you questions that a zillion people have already asked you – but how did Janet Weiss (Sleater-Kinney, Quasi, Elliott Smith’s touring band) become a Jick?
Malkmus: Well, you’re going to break this to all of Austin, and maybe the world, as the web is the world. She’s friends with (Jicks’ bassist) Joanna Bolme and me from the old, local rockers of Portland. She’s part of the establishment – and Austin obviously has one too, I’m sure. She’s been playing here in a lot of different bands.
I met her in the ‘90s. When Sleater-Kinney broke-up, I thought, “Well Janet’s free, and she’s a free player too,” so it wasn’t very hard. And Joanna plays in her band, Quasi – they took on a bass player about 2 years ago. So, it was like: hop over here on to our stool.
It was pretty natural. And it was good timing and all that. I hadn’t started (playing) with somebody else. It just made sense.
Black Swan: How did you settle in Portland? Obviously a lot of your lyrics talk about California where you grew up. But what drew you to Portland?
Malkmus: I don’t know, you know? Probably you could ask a lot of people from Austin how they ended up there, the ones that aren’t from Texas. Or you could ask a lot of people here that are from Austin, but are moving here now (i.e. Brit Daniel of Spoon).
It just seemed like a nice place at the time. Not trampled over. It seemed kind of like an experimental city in a certain way. And also not a completely homogenized place, you know? Every place has a soul and everything. But from the outside, in Portland there is some variety in the architecture and the businesses and stuff.
And I’m from the West Coast.
(With a resolute sigh while changing gears in his mind) Why I stayed is more a matter of stasis. And once you get up here in the corner, it’s hard to leave, you know?
Black Swan: Had you ever considered moving to Austin?
Malkmus: (enthusiastically) I have before.
Black Swan: Since the two towns have a similar vibe?
Malkmus: Yeah, totally! I have before. (He strikes his most enthusiastic tone of the interview. Now he finally sounds totally awake.)
At the time I moved (to Portland), I thought, “Well a lot of people have moved here.” When I was in my early 30s, I thought it was more collegiate or youthful there (in Austin) in a certain way. And a lot of my friends that have moved to Austin moved there straight out of college, like people are doing here now.
So I thought, “Well, I’m not looking for that right now. I’m looking for something…more mature.” (He says laughing). And I thought, “I’ll go here (to Portland).” And I found out, obviously there are all kinds of people that live in Austin and it’s not only 20 somethings…or “Slackers,” whatever that is. So that’s why I moved and that’s why I came here.
But, it could have been Austin.
And then I thought that maybe it’s too hot there in the summer.
Stephen Malkmus understands the importance of rock music and swimming at night.
Black Swan: No, you were right. It’s ridiculously hot here.
Malkmus: So I wasn’t sure. I know the winter is better (down in Austin). But here, if you like these medium-sized American cities that are kind of liberal, you could have it perfect if you lived in Austin in the winter and here (in Portland) in the summer. You could really work something out there.
Black Swan: Yeah…that’s something to consider doing.
Malkmus: But who really wants to invest that much of their soul in these perfect little cities? I don’t know. Maybe it’s better to live in New York and Hawaii or something for more intense changes, you know?
Black Swan: Well, but there’s that thing about New York. And you’ve lived there so you would know. But when you think about man and the state of nature, and how in a perfect world in the state of nature, you might not have so many people packed into so little space. And you get away from your natural inclinations because you are so disconnected from nature.
Malkmus: That’s true. (He says earnestly) I think it’s weird there. And people do get a little crazy. But they also seem pretty happy, you know? There are people that I know that live in NYC and there is just something…
There’s a lot of cool people and because of all the people, there’s a lot of great people there. Maybe they’re forced to live there, or they like it. I like that about it.
(Changing mental gears again) But I feel cramped, very often, with the kids there (in NYC). We spend some time there and I feel…I get mad at inconvenience and I feel cramped in crappy supermarkets. My bourgeois body can’t take it anymore, my 42-year-old bourgeois body. Once you’ve lived in these places (like Austin and Portland) where you just go down to the local supermarket, where it’s just more casual, you know? I don’t know.
Black Swan: Yeah, I know what you’re saying.
Malkmus: Yeah, but…if you’re loaded with cash, you get your groceries delivered and you take car services everywhere and then your bourgeois body is fine. (Laughs)
Black Swan: “Bourgeois Body.” That is a good prospective title, I think.
Malkmus: (laughs) Yeah.
Black Swan: Hey, I read that you studied History. And I know that History classes and English classes will sometimes overlap. Like you could sign up for an English class, but you could sign up for the same class in the history department.
Malkmus: Um, hmmm.
Black Swan: So I guess what I’m getting at is this: did you also take a lot of English classes?
Malkmus: Not really. No, I didn’t. I just thought I could read on the side. Personally, I didn’t like classic stuff, just from going to high school (and reading it). You know, when they would start doing John Dunne – that’s really boring – or Chaucer. I don’t want to read that. So I thought, “Well I can just read my own fiction books on the side and get my own free education there. I don’t need to go to class for that.”
Black Swan: What about creative writing classes?
Malkmus: Ummmm…no. I never took any of those. I applied for one once and they didn’t accept me because it was kind of limited to get in there. And you had to give a sample. And I think I wrote a sample, but it was really stupid I’m sure, you know? Like it was some conceptual, 2 page, really dumb thing. I can see it now. It wasn’t like…real at all.
Back then in the ‘80s, you were supposed to be real, like maybe you are now. But there wasn’t any George Sanders or anybody like that yet. (He sighs.) You just had to write about what you know…or whatever (laughing).
Black Swan: Yeah…I was an English major at UT here in Austin. And anything that was unique or different, a lot of times they’d just want to squash that creativity right out of people. Well, not every time but sometimes.
Malkmus: Not always, I’m sure. But yeah, if you were at Virginia (back then), it was really a conservative writing department.
Black Swan: Yep. UT Austin was the same.
Malkmus: And you know it was also Raymond Carver time. And Tobias Wolf. And real writers of great prose. And I appreciate that stuff. But at that time I was probably writing something more imaginative and not, you know, it probably wasn’t that good also (laughing).
So I got rejected. I never did that.
There were also plenty of young guys that thought they were writers back then. They were trying to get laid by being writers or whatever.
Black Swan: And where are they now…
Malkmus: And it would work (though). Yeah, this one friend of mine, he went to writers’ school. He was a chef and he could cook Cornish Game Hens. And he was really trying to get the chicks that way. And it was workin’ for him.
(We both laugh.)
They caught on eventually, I’m sure.
Black Swan: He was all like, “Yeah…let me write you some poesy and cook you some Cornish Game Hens.” (I jest through my laughing.)
Malkmus: Yeah…exactly.
Black Swan: OK…I think that’s the last question. Although I should probably ask you – because people are going to be curious – are you going to play any Bob Dylan or Pavement songs?
Malkmus: Ummmm, I don’t think so. (But) if that is going to make more people come to the show…? It’s probably going to be close to sold-out, although Cat Power is playing that same night. So you can ask her. She did a song for that (Todd Haynes’ Bob Dylan biography I’M NOT THERE) too.
I don’t think we’re going to play any of those songs. But, you know, it’s going to be a really phantasmagoric event regardless.
Black Swan: You know, if you played the whole new album start to finish I think people would be happy.
Malkmus: That would be good.
We’ll play a selection of songs. But we don’t do any Pavement jams. And we don’t do any Dylan. We have some other covers we’ve been working up, so…we’ll see if we bring those out. Some of those are screamers and I probably don’t want to lose my voice on the first show of the second leg.
Black Swan: I guess that’s it. But one more aside: “Gangsters and Pranksters.” I don’t know how in the world you came up with that song?
Malkmus: (He laughs) It’s pretty funny.
Black Swan: …Sometimes I’ll be on the floor laughing while I’m listening to it because it’s so sincerely funny.
Malkmus: That one came out good. It was very spur of the moment. Sometimes spur of the moment things are good, and sometimes, you know, they’re “Elmo Delmo,” which is all right…but thanks a lot.
Black Swan: Oh yeah. Thanks again. And thanks for taking time out.
Malkmus: Nice talking to you. And way to be a survivor. Still crazy after all these years. That’s what I say to the people that keep going to shows like I would (if I weren’t touring all the time).
I met some people in Western Massachusetts, a really cute couple. They were older than me and they were like, “We’re here to see the show!” And I’d been running into teenager kids that are just like, “I never saw Pavement” and “You’re my hero!”-type kids, you know?
Black Swan: Yeah…
Malkmus: And then there are (occasionally) these older couples (that come out to shows). I was like, “All right.” These Western-Mass.-kind-of-liberal-people.
Black Swan: Yeah, yeah.
Malkmus: They were almost kind of working class looking people, you know? Or just…normal. Cause people are normal out there.
And I was like, “This is great. You’re real music fans.” You know, I don’t see them very often (he says sighing slightly). (Occasionally) we have these people that you can tell, they like to rock or whatever…still. (laughs)
Black Swan: But that’s cool to have kids coming out that are actually getting into for the first time.
Malkmus: Yeah that’s kind of weird though when something (like Pavement) has a life of its own. Obviously it’s weirder for these baby-boomer icons…when it happens forever…like Jim Morrison or Hendrix or something. I’d never put myself in those categories. But you kind of almost feel like the Velvet Underground or something…when something becomes iconic. That’s kind of funny.
But we need new things for that. And I guess it’s gonna happen for every decade. (Although) you know the ‘80s was hard I guess (since they don’t have an iconic genre defining underground rock band).
Black Swan: I don’t know what’s coming next. But it does seem like the Pavement’s records and legacy have taken on a life of its own. But it’s cool now that you are on the fourth solo records. The Jicks records are getting a life of there own too.
Malkmus: Yeah…well, this time at least. It’s gone hand-in-hand with people wanting to know about Pavement a little bit, and a canonization of Pavement and me – and then about this new album. There seems to be some sort of…whatever its called…where…not synchronicity…but that thing where things are going together. It’s that dumb business term people try for. They bring some guy in and pay him $2000 to come up with the word.
Black Swan: Synergy?
Malkmus: (laughing) Yeah. They pay him $2,000 to say that word, you know…some business coach.
I want to be one of those guys. “We need more synergy.” (he says in mocking jest) “I’m a futurist and we need synergy.”
(After realizing the time) I gotta roll.
Black Swan: Hey good talking to you.
Malkmus: Hey, likewise. I’ll see ya’ in a couple of days.
Black Swan: Cool.
Malkmus: Later man.
Posted: May 4th, 2009 | Author: black swan | Filed under: music | Tags: article, concert, indie pop, indie rock, music | No Comments »
Ben Gibbard rocks his Telecaster at the Austin Music Hall during "The New Year."
If you are familiar with Death Cab for Cutie’s music, then you will understand how ironic and poetically, pathetically apropos it would have been for me to attend their Friday evening concert by myself.
But gentle reader, check the backwards-in-time rub: I’ve seen Death Cab play so many times over the years that I’ve lost count, and the majority of those times I’ve seen them play, I did go by myself. I seem to have a hard time finding a date to go see perhaps the greatest indie pop date band of the late 20th/early 21st century.
It’s always weird watching a band, a band that you really love, go from playing to a handful of people in a dingy indie rock club to playing before 70,000 people at an outdoor festival. You reach a point where you admit to yourself that the band is not yours anymore…and just like the old adage goes, you set them free. Every band wants to be super-popular, so you have to be happy for your favorite band when they win the rock ‘n’ roll lottery.
I’m still trying to recall all the times I’ve seen them…not for you gentle reader, but for my own self…just so I’ll know:
- Lawrence, Kansas at the Bottleneck (Shiner opened)
- Austin at Emo’s (during a SXSW day party…I videotaped this one)
- Ben Gibbard solo at what is now called The Mohawk
- Two nights at Stubb’s during Transatlanticism tour
- A very hot (temperature-wise) show at ACL Fest
- A show at the Backyard (went with my ex-girl)
- Austin Music Hall show on May 1, 2009
My review of their Friday evening concert ran in today’s Austin American-Statesman. It’s very hard for me to write a comprehensive review within a 150 words capsule review. My review today was almost twice as long. I stoped counting at 400 words.
As you read – if you read it – know that I wanted to write twice as much more. I had twice as much more outlined in my head.
Here is a link to my original American-Statesman article; it appears in an altered version below.
(Note: The versions of my articles that appear in this blog are different than versions published in the newspaper as I prefer to avoid copyright issues, even though I would think that my re-publishing of my own articles on my blog would fall under “fair use.” I also sometimes add things that might have been edited out by my editor…or additional words and thoughts that I wish I had added…a la Walt Whitman’s life-long editing of “Leaves of Grass.”)
By V.M. Black | Monday, May 4, 2009, 12:01 PM
Being engaged fits Gibbard like a tailored suit as he appears more svelte than ever.
Seattle, Wash.’s venerable indie-ethos rock band Death Cab for Cutie messed around and busted out their best Austin show in years Friday night at Austin Music Hall.
Between South by Southwest, Austin City Limits Festival and regular album support tour stops, Death Cab has always put on perfunctory performances, but rarely have they been “one of the best shows I’ve ever seen in my life.” Seemed it always took them at least half their set to get warmed up. Once during a two-night-stand at Stubb’s on their “Transatlanticism” tour, they didn’t really begin to gel until their final song.
This time it appeared Death Cab had stepped up all elements of their tour production into a multi-bus, multi-semi-trailer truck affair. The PA’s sound engineering was on point (except in the far back) and the stage lighting was choreographed to accentuate the mood and tenor of the songs, creating displays that highlighted crescendos and emotions.
Another noticeable difference in the band’s performance was the depth of their catalog, allowing them to perform a crushingly emotional song-cycle. Frontman Ben Gibbard has always been a songwriter’s songwriter, and more than 10 years of crafting some of the most beloved melancholy indie-pop in the genre has built the band’s song collection into something deep and overwhelmingly powerful. All those years of touring (with basically the same lineup) has also allowed the band to become tighter than many of their peers. The members of Death Cab for Cutie have matured into consummate rock ‘n’ roll professionals.
Gibbard appeared more svelte than in past shows, performing with a relaxed air of assuredness. Highlights included the Los Angeles send-up “Why’d You Want to Live Here” and the dusted-off gem “Photobooth.” The coup de grace encore was delivered with two of their best songs, “A Movie Script Ending” and “Transatlanticism,” Gibbard’s mellifluous voice pulling at heartstrings like a blustery winter break-up.
Ben Gibbard gets a "Boss" sound out of Fender Telecasters, a unique choice of guitars (a few people will get the pun in here).
Setlist:
The Employment Pages
Your Heart Is An Empty Room
The New Year
Why’d You Want to Live Here
President of What?
Crooked Teeth
Photobooth
Company Calls
Grapevine Fires
I Will Possess Your Heart
I Will Follow You Into The Dark
Title and Registration
Cath
Long Division
The Sound of Settling
Soul Meets Body
Scientist Studies
Encore:
A Diamond and A Tether
A Movie Script Ending
Transatlanticism
Permalink
Posted: April 27th, 2009 | Author: black swan | Filed under: music | Tags: indie rock, interview, music | No Comments »
Death Cab for Cutie in 2009: (from left to right) Nick Harmer, Ben Gibbard, Chris Walla and Jason McGerr. Notice how guitarist and producer Walla looks damn fine in army green.
Death Cab for Cutie spent the last decade slowly and steadily becoming one of the most popular indie-ethos rock bands in the world. Melancholy, lovelorn lyrics, wrapped around vocalist/guitarist/keyboardist Ben Gibbard’s plaintive tenor, infuse their pop melodies, ripping at your heartstrings while rocking the space where your soul meets your body. Their upcoming May 1 show at Austin Music Hall is sold out, a testament to the large and loyal fanbase they’ve built through years of touring. Recently Death Cab’s guitarist and producer Chris Walla spoke with me about an hour after our agreed upon time. He dragged himself out of bed and stood outside while speaking on the phone (perhaps so he didn’t wake the person he was sharing a room with). A thunderstorm began to cover the skies above him. He laughed with excitement like a little kid at the prospect of the storm’s impending fury.
Walla has a reputation for being very candid in interviews, and he didn’t disappoint during this one. He spoke very freely and didn’t stutter to clarify thoughts. His voice is very soft-spoken and it possesses a child-like wonder, constantly surveying all of the most beautiful things in the world.
Semi-recently Walla moved from Seattle to Portland, but he could easily be an Austinite. He owns a studio, he’s a vegetarian, a left-wing activist and he’s become a highly sought after producer as the fidelity of Death Cab records just expands at the same rate as their recording budgets. I’d guess Walla became a millionaire a few years ago, but he possessed the grace of someone that appreciates their position. (To contrast, I semi-recently interviewed Blake Sennett, the guitarist of Rilo Kiley, and Sennett did not possess that same humble graciousness.)
What follows is the unabridged interview transcript. I’ve left in all of my own stammers and false starts. The only thing I edited out were instances where Walla said “sort of”, similar to how people use the word “like” as a pause in order to find the exact way they’d like to phrase something.
This transcript is 2,221 words, and I had to edit it down to 400 words for a version to run in the Austin American-Statesman. Needless to say, the version that will run in the newspaper feels like just a snippet of a longer conversation. If you like Death Cab for Cutie – or if you’d like to read about why John McCain’s use of Twitter is like a death knoll for the micro-blogging site – I think you’ll appreciate the unabridged version presented in its entirety for the first time…right here.
From a recorded telephone conversation/interview on Good Friday, April 10, 2009.
Black Swan: Hi!
Chris Walla: Hi! (He says sincerely, enthusiastically.)
Black Swan: Thanks for taking time-out to do this interview. Where are you guys right now? Have you started the tour?
Walla: We’re six dates in to the tour. Part of the reason (the interview started late) – I was just telling Cath (the Atlantic Records’ publicist that set up the interview) – I thought we were in central time now. The time change and the interview change…sorry about that…I woke up an hour late.
Black Swan: Aw, naw, man. It’s all good.
Walla: We’re in Louisville, Kentucky right now.
Black Swan: Before we speak about the current releases, I’d like to go backwards for a second. There’s info in the Wikipedia page for the band that you were recruited into Death Cab when it became a full time project. I was wondering if that was true.
Walla: (laughing) I…don’t…what does the Wiki page say?
Black Swan: It says that you were recruited into the band.
Walla: (jokingly) Well, it’s on the Internet, so it must be true.
Black Swan: (laughs from me) I’d like to get it from the source…from the horse’s mouth as they say.
Walla: (after a pregnant pause) …I guess.
At this point I knew I had to change my tact very quickly because I could tell he was sizing me up, deducing that this was going to be a mediocre and boring interview.
Black Swan: And even before that, what got you into playing guitar? What inspired that? When did you start playing?
Walla: I’m a bass player by trade. Well, not by trade. By nature I am a bass player. By trade I am a guitar player…that would be a better way to put it. Yeah, this band didn’t need a bass player, so I started playing guitar.
Black Swan: So bass is your first instrument? I didn’t realize that. When did you start playing bass?
Walla: Well, I guess I was about 13 or 14 when I started playing the bass. Yeah, I’ve been playing guitar off and on since I was about 16 or 17. I learned it out of necessity and just sort of feeling like, ‘I should know how to do this.’
Black Swan: I’m curious, did you start off playing bass at home, or did you start playing the upright bass through school orchestra?
Walla: My best friend all through middle school and high school was a guy named Nathan Good. He ended up being the first drummer in Death Cab for Cutie. So I’d been playing with him since I was like 13 or 14. And we were never a proper band together. We always just recorded in…mostly just his parent’s basement.
Black Swan: What town was that?
Walla: That was in the town of Bothell, Washington, which is where I am from.
Black Swan: What year did you first meet Ben?
Walla: I met Ben in 1995, 1996…something like that. We were recording together and doing stuff by the middle of 1996.
Black Swan: Now I’ll fast forward. I was really excited by the new record and how it musically goes to some new places that you guys had never been before. Like with the song “Bigsby Canyon Bridge,” you guys rocked out – of course you guys have rocked many times before – but it feels like something new the way you guys played at the end of that song. How did some of the new stuff you did on that song come about? Did that come out of a jam? Or did the demos sound similar?
Walla: Well, the demos for that song sort of suggested that stuff. Sometimes the demos get translated to the records really literally. And then sometimes we tear them apart completely and they don’t resemble his demos at all by the time they make it to the album. With that song his demo suggested that that’s where it goes, but it definitely wasn’t quite there. It wasn’t doing it. I really like that recording because I feel like it’s one of the few places in our catalog where I think we just turned our brains off completely, and just did something just because it feels good. And you know, it’s a mess. It’s a big, sonic basher in a way. But it’s really, really fun.
Black Swan: Yeah, that (fun) comes through too. And you know that song with the Beach Boys’ Christmas bells, “Pet Sounds” kind of thing? I dug that too for the sheer fact that it was something totally different.
Walla: That song was kind of a throwaway at one point. I guess ‘throwaway’ is a little strong of a word. But it was definitely not an album contender. It had another verse, and it had another chorus to it. And it was just too much for what the song was trying to say. And yet it seems like there are times where playing into how morose a lyric is – and playing into and representing whatever lightness or darkness is happening in the song literally is a good thing to do. And then there are times where we’re doing exactly the opposite and it’s the right thing to do. “You Can Do Better” is much an example of the latter. Lyrically, the song is kind pathetic, like pathos pathetic, not like lame pathetic. Trying to make something that is equally pathetic is non-productive.
Black Swan: That’s when some of the coolest things come out. When the music is one emotion and the lyrics express another emotion. Those kind of moments pull at your soul.
Walla: Yeah. Yeah.
At this point, the inflection on his last affirmation connoted, “Oh, OK. This guy is actually not the boring, run of the mill journalist that I thought he was going to be.”
Black Swan: You guys have been really fearless about taking a stand, whether it was with the Obama campaign or supporting PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals). I think that’s really cool. Bands used to do that in the 1960s, but you don’t see that as much now. What were the fans’ reactions to your supporting the campaign?
Walla: There wasn’t a lot of static this time. There was a lot more static in 2004, with the (John) Kerry campaign when we got involved with that. There’s a time and a place for all that stuff…for the public at large. It’s like with anything, things move in waves. And it’s been well documented that the Obama campaign and its subsequent victory was at least as much cultural phenomenon as much as it was a political campaign. In a lot of ways it has more societal (things) in common with Harry Potter than it does with John Kerry. It’s just something that takes over, for better or for worse.
And there is some blowback happening around that…and the loyal opposition is opposing everything, of course…which is their job…that’s great. But there wasn’t much static from the fans this time. It felt as though we were part of a movement…something that was actually happening…whereas in 2004, it felt as though we were working against the Kerry campaign. Working with the Obama campaign, they were like, ‘Yeah, whatever you guys want to do, come on board.’ And with the Kerry campaign, they were like, ‘Ooooo. Ahhhh. You’ve got ‘Death’ in your name. I don’t know if we can do anything. You’re gonna vote for us, right?’
You couldn’t buy your way into supporting John Kerry for president. It was a really different thing.
Black Swan: I’ve read President Obama has Kanye West and Wilco on his iPod, which makes me think he might have Death Cab on there too. Have you guys heard if he is a fan? Have you met him yet?
Walla: Haven’t met him yet.
Lightning strikes close to Walla and a thunderclap booms across the phone line.
Walla: Aw, Jesus. That’s the lightning in Louisville. Dude that sucks. I’m standing outside. Guess I’m gonna get wet right about now (he says in a sing-song melody). Maybe I won’t get wet. What was the question? Have we met the president?
Have not met him. Have a pretty good idea that he has heard our music at this point. Our songs ended up in some actual official stuff, like the inauguration day CD that the campaign-turned-advocacy committee put together. I don’t know though. I’ve kept in touch with a lot of the people that I worked with on the campaign. And a lot of people from the Chicago office have jobs at the White House now. It’s been really interesting to watch the thing unfold. Pretty awesome actually.
Black Swan: You guys have played in Austin many times. Because of Austin’s similarity to where you live in Portland – and obviously you’ve been all over the world – but is Austin a place you look forward to playing? Does it stand out? Like, you know you’ll be able to find some good vegetarian restaurants…or look forward to seeing like-minded people?
Walla: Yeah, I think for a lot of bands that first start, driving a van across the country, it ends up being ground zero for South by Southwest (SXSW) every year. And thinking about SXSW now sends chills up my spine. Thinking about how…we’re sort of road-weary rock veterans now. We’ve been doing this for 11 years. When I think about how enormously stupid we were in 1998 or 1999, driving 50 hours straight from Bellingham, WA to get to Austin to play SXSW, eating handfuls of trucker speed and whatever else just to get there. And when I think about 600 other bands that are doing exactly the same thing, and then putting them all in the same place…when I think about that it kind of sounds like a nightmare.
Atlantic Records’ publicist: We gotta start wrapping up. (I didn’t know she was still on the line. I suddenly felt a little violated.)
Walla: I’ve got another minute or two. (I was suddenly reassured that the interview was going well and I was engaging Walla in a good way as this would have been his chance to get off the phone and go get breakfast.)
Black Swan: I’ll cut to my last question. (The publicist interrupted my flow, so I stammered for a bit.) Um, well, I actually didn’t want to talk about SXSW, but…how about getting back to Austin…
Walla: (graciously helping me pull my flow back) …I do love Austin. And I feel like I do have a little bit of a connection to it. We got to be pretty good friends with the American Analog Set at one point. I think about staying at Kenny’s (American Analog Set’s vocalist) house when we were down there. It does seem like a navigable home base…and that’s always nice on a tour. Like right now, I’m in Louisville – and I love Louisville. It’s a cool town – but I don’t know Louisville. I don’t understand it. You know, like you said, I don’t know where to get something to eat. I know where the Jimmy John’s is, but that doesn’t count. I know where the thunder and lightning are…
Black Swan: Lastly, I want to ask you about…you guys have always had cool, thoughtful album artwork. And now you guys have cool digital releases like that cool iPhone app. Did that come out of you guys having iPhones and thinking it would be cool to have something like that…or did someone else come up with that?
Walla: Well we all love LPs, and we love CDs slightly less. None of us listen to music or buy music that way…at all. When we’re honest with ourselves, we’ve all given up on the physical transmission of music. Like, an album is something I put on if I happen to be at home, but I’m not even ever at home anymore. So it’s just a logical extension. It’s just a matter of asking the questions like: ‘we’re not listening to music the way that we were when we started, and what are our options for transmission?’
iTunes is the biggest, most obvious corner of that world. But getting away from that and moving into corners beyond there is the next logical thing. By my thinking, Twitter is probably already dead, being that John McCain has a Twitter account…seems like that’s the death wish for anything…getting him involved and excited about it and having him talk about it is the sure way to kill anything good (he says jokingly).
But (seriously), it’s a matter of watching our fans and listening to the people who give us feedback. And too, watching what other band are doing. I mean, I never in a million years would have thought that we’d get to 2009, and Nine Inch Nails would be doing the coolest shit around. It’s incredible. And Trent Reznor is driving all of that. It’s just awesome to watch his whole thing unfold. And he probably has a team of digital snipers that are just working on that stuff all the time. All the geo-caching stuff. He just launched an iPhone app that is like the Nine Inch Nails site.
Black Swan: Thanks for taking time out to speak with us. I’m actually a long time fan, and I’m still a fan, so keep doing what you’re doing.
Walla: Thanks…thanks a lot.
