The Days of Lore

Electric Company

Friday, November 11th, 2011 | musiX, pdX | No Comments

LIVE: Wild Flag and Drew Grow & the Pastor’s Wives at Doug Fir, 11.9.11

Supergroups are never super. Therefore, Wild Flag can’t be considered a supergroup. The former Sleater-Kinney/Minders/Helium members have formed a great American rock band—incredibly fun songs, endless energy—I almost forgot what it’s like to experience a real rock show. Rock ‘n’ roll mythology seems to be what fuels Wild Flag. They unabashedly celebrate it in their songs. They act it out onstage. And I love them all the more for it. So did the sold-out crowd at the Doug Fir, which on this night might as well have been Budokon … save for the fact audience members stood rather than sit and clap politely.

Drew Grow & the Pasture’s Wives led things off with an eclectic, slightly overwrought set of strummy rock jams. The energy was there, but the songs weren’t all that memorable. Then again, I need to be beaten over the head … which is where Wild Flag comes in.

I’ve always thought the best bands were the ones in which you could pick out the individual personalities. And Wild Flag has plenty of it. Former Helium axetress Mary Timony’s controlled guitar lines and (comparatively) prim stage presence were met with Carrie Brownstein’s Joey Ramone hiccup and Jimmy Page-meets-Pete Townshend flash (complete with lots of leg kicks and windmills). Basher Janet Weiss and keyboardist Rebecca Cole make up the concrete-slab rhythm section, and occasionally exchanged wide smiles while providing the bulk of the grrrl-group harmonies.

Musically Wild Flag is somewhere in the neighborhood of Cheap Trick meets Sonic Youth meets The Supremes—gloriously tight and sloppy all at once, compact power-pop songs occasionally giving way to extended noise freakouts (most notably on the terrific “Glass Tambourine”). Wild Flag ran through the entire record, hitting on eternally endearing songs like “Boom” and “Electric Band.” These old-hands tap into the primal innocence and reckless abandon of teen punks with more conviction than any of this week’s hot blog’s yesterday’s news. Probably because this is no act.

It remained that way right on through the encore, which led off seamlessly with The Ramones’ “Judy Is a Punk.” The only lapse of the evening was when Brownstein slipped into Portlandia mode. It seems the ladies of Wild Flag had received coupons for free acupuncture. Brownstein explained how she thought she would have to cancel because of prior plans, only to realize that those prior plans included an acupuncture appointment. “Only in Portland,” she said. I feared Fred Armisen might appear onstage in a dress at any moment. That surely would have been no rock ‘n’ roll fun.

Photo by Mark Lore

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Tags: Carrie Brownstein, Doug Fir, Drew Grow & the Pasture's Wives, Helium, Janet Weiss, live review, Mary Timony, Portland music, Rebecca Cole, Sleater-Kinney, Wild Flag

Home boy, Stephen Malkmus

Thursday, August 25th, 2011 | interviewZ, musiX, pdX | 2 Comments

I was recently asked by Spin Magazine to hang out at Stephen Malkmus’ house and talk to him about random objects that were ineteresting or held some sort of significance to him. I closed the e-mail, changed my underwear and schemed how I would call in sick to my day job in two weeks. “There’s something going around,” I schemed.

I rarely get starstruck these days—only Rhett Miller holds that distinction—but that’s only because he’s so darned good-looking. Malkmus is a pretty handsome fellow, too. And aside from a few more gray hairs, he’s hardly aged. But I wasn’t starstruck—this was more like, “I’m going to hang out with Stephen Malkmus. At his home. What?”

I walked up to his door, which was attached to a very large, very old house in a cluster of other very large, very old houses near a popular park in Portland. His wife, artist Jessica Jackson Hutchins, answered the door. “He’s on his way,” she informed me. The videographer and photographers were already there trying to decide which room had the best light. It was my job to scour the home for quirky trinkets that would lend themselves to even quirkier answers. While the photogs began setting up their elaborate gear, the videographer Aubree and I headed to—where else—the basement.

It was exactly what you would expect: Records, guitars, some recording equipment, old books, genius-at-work clutter. We noted the signed copy of Sterolab’s French Disko on the wall, which Malkmus would later explain: “We did a big, long tour with them in Europe—and at the end we signed records and there were tears and champagne.” Sadly, there were no half-eaten Twinkies I could sell on eBay for a couple hundred bucks. The best part about all this? I was (sort of) casing Stephen Malkmus’ home because that’s what I was supposed to be doing.

Malkmus arrived about 45 minutes later, which doesn’t really qualify as “on his way” (man, he is such a slacker). He was wearing black jeans, a pair of white Adidas and a blue-and-white flannel (yes!) shirt. Atop his head sat a Detroit Pistons cap. Malkmus disappeared into the kitchen, and I could hear him and Jessica chatting, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. It sounded like married-couple talk. He re-emerged and we all introduced ourselves. I think I was the only one who was really familiar with/enjoyed Pavement and/or the Jicks. After some small-talk, Malkmus and I decided to scour the house to find more what-nots and what-have-yous.

We headed back down to the basement. He rummaged through a closet and pulled out a few things, including a small plaster sculpture of his head as a young child. I pointed out the Stereolab record. We made our way back upstairs. His two kids were not there, but the tell-tale signs were: toys, a nook with children’s books, scattered Cheerios on the kitchen floor. Malkmus disappeared upstairs and came back down with a framed photo of his mother as a young girl, a Jamaal Charles Jersey and some tape reels that included demos from Pavement’s Terror Twilight. After we rounded up what we thought were enough “curios” as he called them, we ended up back in the kitchen to talk about the new Jicks record Mirror Traffic and, of course, working with Beck.

“He gave me a call about two and a half years ago and he was just getting started in producing, and he’s like, ‘I’m a producer now, and I’d like to work with you,’ Malkmus explained. “I ran it by the band because we were thinking of ideas, and everyone really wanted to work with a proper producer—I think they were getting tired of the sort of willy-nilly way we were doing it.” Malkmus was making himself breakfast—English style—a fried egg and tomato on toast. Prior to that he had managed to sneak out for a smoke, which truly made it an English breakfast. It looked delicious … the food, not the cigarette.

“We did recording of the basic tracks in five or six days,” he continued. “It was pretty painless, and [Beck] was positive emotionally about everything and pretty mellow like a musician. He said, ‘I might be better at this than judging my own stuff.’ That’s one of the keys, I think, from the standpoint of the band—you want someone who can be like that, that doesn’t want it to be their thing, and can see what’s good about you. I don’t think everyone would be right for it, but he definitely seems to have a talent for it. And I think he’s going to be pretty busy.”

It’s true. Beck’s touches aren’t ham-fisted. Mirror Traffic is far less bombastic than 2008’s Real Emotional Trash, but maintains a warm quality that Malkmus was shooting for. “I didn’t really know what I wanted, I just wanted it to sound good—have a good fidelity that we liked. That’s what I was more worried about—having it sound too digital or modern.” Best of all, Joanna Bolme’s bass is high in the mix—a good thing, as she’s truly a secret weapon (listen to Quasi’s American Gong for proof).

Recording stalled while Malkmus was out for a year on the Pavement cash-grab extravaganza. During that time he was getting antsy, as were the rest of the Jicks. We convened at the kitchen table, where he chatted between bites. (”Sorry I’m eating while we do this.”) The band finished things up this year and released the album’s first single “Senator” back in early June, a song with a memorable chorus that was accidentally timely in the wake of the Anthony Weiner political boner.

“The chorus is just what I sang for the part, and I just made that up—so, I don’t know, that just came from my subconscious,” he explained. “It wasn’t really like shooting fish in a barrel, to tease guys like that, or to be something that would be on The Daily Show.”

The Jicks released Mirror Traffic on August 23, the final album to feature longtime Jick/pal Janet Weiss, who will be focusing most of her attention on Wild Flag. Joggers drummer Jake Morris has joined the lineup, rounded out by Bolme and guitarist-keyboardist Mike Clark. The record is less jammy, filled with well-crafted pop that manages to keep Malkmus’ quirks intact. It might be Malkmus’ best, most Pavement post-Pavement release.

“For me I decided to make it a little more about melody. That could be what I’m better at. I can try to be a big shredder psych-rocker guy, but I’ll let the memorable vocal melodies be the thing you take from the song.”

Jake the photographer came in and told us they were set up and ready to go. I headed toward the bathroom. “Umm, there’s no toilet paper in there, but I can run upstairs and grab some if you need it.” As much as I wanted to tell Stephen Malkmus to grab me some toilet paper, I assured him it was only No. 1. When I entered the living room, he was seated, surrounded by his own artifacts—among them the plaster head, the Charles jersey (a gift from Pavement bandmate Bob Nastanovich) and his diploma from the University of Virginia, where he got involved in college radio and punk rock in a small city in an even smaller red state. (”It was sort of like a mini John Hughes movie—where you would find weirdos and freaks, and you’d be like, ‘Oh, you’re my people,’ amid the uniformity.”)

Malkmus has come a long way since then. He’s come an even longer way since the day his grandmother sculpted a plaster statue of his head. But not much has changed, and that’s a good thing. He’s still mindful of the DIY, punk aesthetic. He still reads poetry from obscure avant-writers like Louis Zukofsky and Tom Clark, who did the cover art for Mirror Traffic. And he still makes interesting music that means a lot to a lot of people. He’s not hip, but he’s not irrelevant either. Throughout the morning Malkmus joked that he’s too old for this or too old for that, or questioned his coolness. I think it’s something he must think about as he eases into middle age.

Of the dozen or so objects we end up talking about, it turns out that one of Malkmus’ most prized is a drawing by Don Van Vliet, aka Captain Beefheart.

“He is an inspirational musical genius,” Malkmus said. He wasn’t smiling, or even smirking when he said this. “You know, he played this really insane music that sounds like outsider music, but it was all planned out. He knew what he was doing, and he still made it sound like it was completely original. To me it’s an inspiration that somebody can be such a weirdo, but also be a calm artist.”

That statement right there speaks volumes. I think Malkmus is going to be around for a while. He’ll definitely continue to be one of the most relevant irrelevant artists of his generation. And he really is a cool dude.

“Senator” - Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks

“Tune Grief” - Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks

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Tags: Beck, Jake Morris, Janet Weiss, Jessica Jackson Hutchins, Joanna Bolme, Matador Records, Mike Clark, Mirror Traffic, Pavement, Spin Magazine, Stephen Malkmus, Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks, Stephen Malkmus interview, Tom Clark

Janet Weiss talks Quasi mojo

Monday, February 22nd, 2010 | interviewZ, musiX, pdX | 1 Comment

The first time I threw on Quasi’s new record American Gong, I thought I was listening to a different band. Not that it doesn’t sound like Quasi, there’s just a certain—if I may borrow a quote from drummer Janet Weiss—”joie de vivre” to the new record.

Quasi is an interesting band in that it’s almost always felt like the side project to the members’ numerous other projects—multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Sam Coomes‘ Elliot Smith collaboration Heatmiser, Sleater-Kinney, and now the Jicks. Not the case here. American Gong might be the strongest, most definitive Quasi record in the band’s 16-year existence, jam-packed with guitars pushed well into the red and drumming that defies … well, everything. It’s also the band’s first record with longtime bassist (and Jick) Joanna Bolme, whose fuzzed-out basslines are solid enough to walk on. If you need more convincing, listen to the entire album here.

American Gong—Quasi’s first on Kill Rock Stars—is out now. And that’s only the beginning. The band is touring Japan, the U.S. and Europe as well as hitting all the totally hot festivals, including SXSW and Sasquatch. A quick glance at the ol’ Quasi planner looks something like this: 2010 = booked solid.

Janet Weiss took some time to talk to The Days of Lore about their new digs at KRS, the beauty of mistakes, and the band’s love of fuzz-bass.

TDoL: This is your first record on Kill Rock Stars … how did that come about?
Janet Weiss: I sent [rough mixes] out to people I knew, Sam sent them out to a couple people he knew. Kill Rock Stars were just really enthusiastic about it, and said they loved the record. Of course, I worked with them for years with Sleater-Kinney. You know, they’re here in Portland now, it was just so obvious and natural. And I love working with a label where the two people in charge are women—strong, decisive, intelligent women.

I interviewed Kathy [Foster] from The Thermals and she said the same thing.
Yeah, I mean that’s important. I come from that background of strong women, and I want to pass along that it’s important to make choices that enable that to continue. You know, try to take bands on tour where there are women performing and try to show people that it doesn’t have to be all guys onstage all the time. You have to let girls see other girls up onstage or they might not have the courage to do it. If some girl wants to go into the business and sees there’s a girl running that label, it’s really inspiring I think. And it’s very important to actively be a part of that.

I’ve been listening to the new album, and it is loud.
[laughs] I guess so, yeah … I suppose it’s only as loud as you turn it up.

It just sounds like it was recorded with the intention of blowing things out …
Yeah, I’d say we were going for a very live, sort of ballsy sound. We wanted to somehow capture what it feels like to be at a live show or be in the room with all of the molecules banging around.

It almost reminds me of the production on The Woods …
Yeah, Dave Fridmann did mix a few of those songs … I think we would love to make a whole record with him. We admire his … just his joie de vivre [laughing]. I think he’s really unafraid to push the sound and make things unusual and strange.

How long did it take to record?
We recorded it in about 10 days. We were ready when we went in; we didn’t have to do very many takes of songs, and the takes that we did do just got better and better as we went along. I feel like a lot of the music I love and that I listen to—music of the ’60s and ’70s—it was all recorded like that. They just went into a studio on tour and made a record, kept the mistakes and moved on. It’s amazing how many mistakes you hear on old records. You don’t hear that anymore—it’s sad. Mistakes can be so gratifying when you’re listening.

Absolutely. That reminds me of a post on Carrie’s [Browstein] blog not too long ago.
I don’t think I read that one … but it’s scary to think of a world where all of our mistakes are being erased when so much of creativity is about that.

Yeah, the human aspect gets wiped out …
It’s our self-loathing … we want to correct everything all the time.

Did you go into the studio with a set group of songs ready?
We knew we had too many songs. We weren’t positive which songs were going to go on the record—we knew what the heavy hitters were, and kinda let the other songs show themselves. So there are a couple extras, there’s a cover. Then there’s the song “The Jig is Up”—[laughing] Joanna and I went out to get burritos and Sam recorded that while we were gone for like a half-hour. He just pulled an acoustic guitar off the wall and recorded that with a few mics. That’s actually one of my favorite songs off the record.

That one’s great. I really like “Black Dogs & Bubbles.”
Oh cool. That’s maybe one of the oldest songs out of the batch. That one’s been around for a little while. I think we just kind of kept it simple on that one. It sort of speaks for itself … you sort of get that Neil Young-y type of vibe at the beginning. We always wanted to make sure that middle part was shocking.

The Beatles’ “I Want You (She’s So Heavy)” came to mind when I heard it …
Yeah, I think I’ve heard that from one other person. That’s great, I’m glad you like that one. It constitutes part of the moody center of the album … as I like to call it, “the moody middle.” It’s funny, because I’m usually pretty involved in the sequencing of most records I’ve played on. This one was pretty easy for some reason; it just sort of made sense. The first song was really obvious and that’s always a big help. On the last Jicks record we didn’t really have a for-certain first song and it made sequencing tough. We got it in the end, but it took a lot more time.

Obviously you’re making a record, but are you ever like, “Do people even listen to full albums anymore?” Does that cross your mind?
It maybe crosses my mind a little more now. I think I’ve always been guilty of top-loading, wanting to put my favorite three songs first. On [American Gong] I feel like the last song is the heart of the record. Kind of like the old days when you’d listen to vinyl—like “When the Levee Breaks,” the last song on Zeppelin IV—the last song wasn’t the single or maybe wasn’t even the catchiest, but it represented the heart of the record. It was what they wanted to leave you with. I don’t really know how people … like do they buy three songs, four songs, one song? I don’t understand that so much, so I just do what I know, which is sequence it as a record and try to put a couple strong, catchy songs up at the top.

Besides being loud, the hooks are definitely still there …
Sam started this project Pink Mountain with some friends in San Francisco … I feel like he got a lot of his weirdo side out with that band, and kind of allowed Quasi—at least the structures of the songs—to be a little more pop-oriented. Although we all are very anti-establishment, and anti-conservative, anti-corporate—we don’t want it to sound like easy listening, we don’t want it to be boring—we want it to represent something free and something that’s not passive. I think to make those pop structures palatable to him as a songwriter we had to turn up the volume a little.

Is there much improvisation involved in the writing?
This was definitely our most collaborative record as far as the writing. Sam came to practice with less structured songs, and just parts that needed to be arranged and organized. And he really let me have a hand in that more, which is something that I did in Sleater-Kinney a lot, and something that I love to do. He’s not used to writing like that; he’s used to writing a song from start to finish. I think Joanna made up so many great basslines that I think define a lot of the songs. I end up humming her basslines more than the vocals or the drums and guitar.

Yeah, there are a couple of basslines that are super fuzzed-out that really stood out.
Well, Sam loves fuzz-bass. [laughing] That is one true statement about Sam Coomes: He loves the fuzz-bass. We’d be working on songs and we’d be like “What does this one need?” and Joanna and I would just laugh and look at each other, “Fuzz-bass!” We know he’s going to say it. That’s the answer for everything. Luckily we like it, too.

You’re about to head out on the road. I take it you like touring …
I’m really into touring, I love touring. Especially these shorter ones, anything under three weeks is totally doable. I mean I like coming home, but I really, really like going out. And I love playing. There’s nothing like playing live, nothing quite like it at all. Gotta keep your chops up.

“Repulsion” - Quasi

“Black Dogs & Bubbles” - Quasi

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Tags: American Gong, Janet Weiss, Joanna Bolme, Kill Rock Stars, Portland music, Quasi, Sam Coomes, Sleater-Kinney, the Jicks