The Days of Lore

2011: The vinyl countdown … and then some

Friday, December 30th, 2011 | musiX, pdX | 1 Comment

Well, hello there. Remember when we used to hang out? Right here? I would tell you about the music I liked. And you’d get me up to speed on everything going on in your life—that new job, your new love interest, or that new zany electro-twee trio from Brooklyn—in the comments section. I miss that.

It’s been a fantastical year for The Days of Lore, filled with all sorts of life-shaping events … ahh hell, here it is in digestible list form:

1. I got married! Yes, married! Me! Married! To a wonderful woman who puts up with all of my quirks. It was an incredible ceremony, and the good times with friends and family lasted for daze. It was one of the most overwhelmingly happy events in my life. And everyone cried, per my plan. I captured the musical portion of it on the official Days of Lore Wedding Mix. Grab your copy here.
2. I also performed my first wedding ceremony, and I think it’s even official.
3. A couple of my good friends brought new little bundles into the world. Both of those little bundles have Willie Nelson onesies.
4. My beloved St. Louis Cardinals miraculously won the World Series.
5. My wife Alexis got a Master’s in teaching and a teaching job … all within four months.

Yes, 2011 was pretty darned swell. That said, TDoL suffered a little amidst all of the excitement, neglected like a Fleet Foxes CD in the stack of life. But I have a couple of goodies to offer before we call 2011 a year. Like this here year-end, rock and roll buffet (minus the all-you-can-eat crab legs).

I should note that I didn’t delve very deep into new music this year, instead spending all waking hours with my head buried in musty vinyl bins (I’m even working on a cologne called “Musty Vinyl Bin”) buying up old country and metal records. This year, instead of a comprehensive list of 2011 releases, I’ve compiled sort of a grab-bag of notable musical this and thats. Hope you enjoy. Here’s looking to 2012 with charged batteries and more good times.

Top five 6 Shows
1. Wild Flag at Doug Fir, 11.9.11
Windmills, leg kicks, noise, all performed with a certain je ne sais quoi—these ladies renewed my faith in rock and roll.
2. Danava at East End, 10.8.11
The best rock band in Portland. Period. Earplugs and diaper recommended.
3. Rush at Sleep Country Amphitheater, 6.28.11
I’ve only recently jumped aboard the Rush train, and finally seeing them live proved once and for all what I’ve known all along: These guys are nerds. And they fucking rule.
4. Deicide at Hawthorne Theatre, 3.5.11
The venue smelled like an 8th grade locker room, and a fight broke out within the first five minutes I arrived. Now that’s a metal show.
5. Ke$ha at Roseland Theatre, 2.16.11
I had no clue what I was getting into here, and I ended up having a blast. Throwaway pop and good ol’-fashioned schlock in the form of human sacrifices and a dancing penis.
6. Zola Jesus at Mississippi Studios, 10.6.11
Less goth and more grandiose than I expected. I felt like I had eaten a Ziploc bag of mushrooms. And Ms. Jesus was very down-to-earth.

Top 5 Albums
1. Koko and the Sweetmeats - Sacrifice
Seattle’s best kept secret is also Seattle’s best band.
2. Unknown Mortal Orchestra - Unknown Mortal Orchestra
I miss the Mint Chicks … but not that much.
3. Old 97’s - The Grand Theatre, Vol. 2
Even better than Vol. 1. So where’s Vol. 3 and 4?
4. Anthrax - Worship Music
Who woulda thought? They bring back Joey Belladonna and release their best album in 20 years.
5. Thee Oh Sees - Carrion Crawler/The Dream
Album number two of 2011 from Jim Dwyer and Co. is numero uno in my book, and number five on the list.

Top five 6 Vinyl Purchases
1. The Saints - Eternally Yours
The gift that keeps on giving.
2. Steve Young - Rock Salt & Nails
Brilliant country gospel featuring Gene Clark and Gram Parsons.
3. Bollywood Bloodbath: The B-Music of the Indian Horror Film Industry
More funky than frightening—the dance-party soundtrack for 2011 and beyond (the grave).
4. Willie Nelson - Phases & Stages
Willie’s best, and I finally snagged it on vinyl.
5. Iron Maiden - Powerslave
I forgot how great this album was, and I played it for weeks at maximum volume. Now my neighbor Earl knows how great this album is, too.
6. Celibate Rifles - The Turgid Miasma of Existence
Australia’s answer to the Sex Pistols (get it?), only noisier and better.

Odds and Ends
Interview: A morning with Stephen Malkmus
I spent a few hours at Mr. Malkmus’ pad for Spin Magazine, talking to him about sports, guitars … oh, and his best solo record to date.

Record Store: Crossroads Music
I spent many an afternoon here this year. Spent many a dollar. Took home many a record. Made many an ill-advised decision. And for that, I love/hate/love it.

Book: Ace Frehley - No Regrets
The Space Ace drank enough booze and did enough blow to kill an adult male rhino, and he lived to tell about it. Guitar Gods never die—they clean up their acts and write rock bios.

TV: Wonder Years on Netflix
After years and years (and years), Kevin Arnold and Winnie Cooper (be still my beating heart) came back into my life, along with the laughter, tears, and the music … even if it’s not Joe Cocker on those opening credits. See you next year, eh?

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Tags: 2011, Ace Frehley, Anthrax, Bollywood Bloodbath, Celibate Rifles, Crossroads Music, Danava, Deicide, Ke$ha, Koko and the Sweetmeats, Old 97's, Rush, Stephen Malkmus, Steve Young, The Saints, The Wonder Years, Thee Oh Sees, Wild Flag, Willie Nelson, year-end list, Zola Jesus

Light Songs

Monday, January 31st, 2011 | musiX, pdX | 3 Comments

LIVE: Old 97’s at the Wonder Ballroom, 1.25.11

“I’m surprised no one’s had a seizure yet.” Old 97’s frontman Rhett Miller delivered a good-natured jab in what ended up being a running joke throughout the night: the Wonder Ballroom’s newly installed stage lights, which were a cross between a KISS concert and a Pink Floyd Laser Spectacular. At one point I thought the mother ship had returned from Abell 3267.

The lights were only a slight distraction from an otherwise typically gritty and sweaty Old 97’s performance. TDoL’s favorite Dallas drawlers are a live band through and through, which might have something to do with their longevity. With the music industry shifting (or collapsing, depending on how you look at it) one thing is clear: If a band wants to make a career of it, you’d better hit the road and play like you mean it … or sell songs to TV commercials. The Old 97’s have wisely done both. Call it survival skills.

OK, it doesn’t hurt that Miller and Co. have almost two decades-worth of sturdy pop gems to pull from, most of which they can crank out on any given night. And tonight’s performance delivered a few surprises, including the excellent “Buick City Complex” from the band’s 2001 Brit Invasion nod Satellite Rides. In fact, the thing I noticed most was how well the Old 97’s poppier material meshed with their twangy stuff. I don’t even like “Murder (Or a Heart Attack).” But the song—peeled from the band’s most polished effort Fight Songs—became a raucous power pop classic on this night. Bassist Murry Hammond divvied up a fair amount of his tunes, including the neo-Cash shuffler “You Were Born to Be In Battle,” “W. TX Teardrops” and the acoustic heartbreaker “Valentine,” one of the band’s greats (I may or may not have teared up a little, just don’t tell anyone). All this is backed by guitarist/secret weapon Ken Bethea and drummer Philip Peeples, who I’m betting has to change his snare head after every show.

The performance was marked by the occasional flubbed note and missed start, but that’s what makes it an Old 97’s show—this is punk rock at heart, and I’d trade in perfection/pretension for energy any day. I’ve also decided that an Old 97’s show is a good place for sociological experiments: The interplay between members who’ve shared the stage for 18 years—the grins, the glares. Not to mention the people who make up an Old 97’s audience: Mustachioed hipsters, leather-clad punks, pearl-button snap aficionados, babysitter payers, babysitters, me, you. All drenched in whiskey, a little Rhett Miller sweat and the Wonder Ballroom’s lighting system, which I’m happy to report did not cause anyone to lose their minds. The Old 97’s took care of that.

Photo by Mark Lore

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Tags: Ken Bethea, live review, Murry Hammond, Old 97's, Philip Peeples, Rhett Miller, Wonder Ballroom

When they was Young 97’s

Tuesday, January 25th, 2011 | musiX, pdX | 1 Comment

In honor of tonight’s Old 97’s performance in Portland I offer you this recently unearthed video for “St. Ignatius” from the band’s raw and rowdy 1994 debut Hitchhike to Rhome. Note that Rhett Miller and Murry Hammond have since swapped hairstyles.

Oh, and stay tuned for TDoL’s full report from the show … also note that I may need a few days to recover.

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Tags: "St Ignatius", Hitchhike to Rhome, Old 97's, Portland

The Days of Lore Best of 2010

Monday, December 20th, 2010 | musiX, pdX | 6 Comments

Wait, weren’t we just here? Like, in 2009? As I hinted at in last year’s TDoL year-end extravaganza, making these lists is always a tug-of-war between what feels good and what actually is good. But if it makes you feel good, it must be good … right?

So here’s the process: I frantically assemble my list. Move things around. Re-listen to records. Cut one here; add another there. Anxiety sets in. I lose sleep. Get a few more gray hairs. Stop eating solid foods. I don’t bathe. I empty out my bank account on overpriced vinyl (including Rush records, for crissakes). I ignore my fiancée. Drink heavily. Call in sick to work. Stop returning phone calls. Kick my (imaginary) dog. Resort to drugs (prescription and non). And stand on the corner in the cold holding one of those signs that say “Will blog for food.” The list goes on—all so I can compile this silly list for you.

OK, it’s really not that bad … although I do like to kick my (imaginary) dog every now and again. I will say this: As someone who overthinks everything (e-ver-y thing), the early process for these year-end lists can be a bitch (which then I kick). But once I let touchiness and feeliness be my guides (more fartsy with the artsy) things always fall into place.

So here it is. I’m sure this is only one of dozens of lists you’ll read. I think it’s a good one (obviously), but it doesn’t mean you have to. Click the album covers to purchase, and add your own list in the comments section. And let the civil discourse take us into 2011, where we can be certain of two things: We’ll all be one year older, and we will definitely be sick of hearing about how incredible that Kanye West record was.

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15. The Goodnight Loving Supper Club - The Goodnight Loving (Dirtnap Records)

Though the band has shaken some of the folkier elements found on their debut, it takes only a few notes to know where Milwaukee, Wisconsin’s The Goodnight Loving are coming from (Milwaukee, duh). While there’s a certain innocence to their music—’50s rock ‘n’ roll meets honky tonk—the band has won over the cold hearts of those who like their music a little more, shall we say, grimy. Picture a sock hop with an open bar.

“The Pan” - The Goodnight Loving

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14. American Gong - Quasi
(Kill Rock Stars)

It was a busy year for Quasi, who released their first record in four years and toured all over including several dates with Pavement. The band entered the studio for the first time with bassist/Jick Joanna Bolme, and what they got was a huge-sounding rock record. This thing is LOUD. As drummer Janet Weiss told TDoL earlier this year: “We wanted to capture what it feels like to be at a live show or be in the room with all of the molecules banging around.”

“Repulsion” - Quasi

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13. Montañas 10″ - Montañas (Gramaciones Grabofónicas)

I’m always digging for music from other countries only to come up with bad techno in one hand and even worse metal in the other. I was beside myself when I discovered Montañas, a trio from Northern Spain that plays a shit-gazey hybrid of garage rock and post-punk. Their 10-inch (that’s 10 solid inches of vinyl) has a fistful of threadbare 90-second gems—guitars bend in and out of tune, the drums sound like sticks on old seat cushions, bass is non-existent. Sounds ugly, but it’s really quite perfect.

“Yo Conduzco, Ella Me Guía” - Montañas

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12. How I Got Over - The Roots
(Def Jam)

I guess there are benefits to being Jimmy Fallon’s house band. The Roots’ ninth studio record sounds like a group that kicks out the jams every night. The songs are shorter and scrappier. Black Thought’s gritty rhymes glide from his lips. And ?uestlove’s boom-bap is as snappy as it’s ever been. How I Got Over also features a slew of unexpected guests—from Dirty Projectors to Monsters of Folk—all of whom become small, yet integral brush strokes on The Roots’ brilliant canvass.

“Dear God 2.0″ - The Roots

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11. The Dirty Future - Old Light (Arena Rock)

The first thing you’ll notice on Old Light’s debut long-player are the harmonies, which bring to mind the sunny vocal stylings of Crosby, Stills & Nash. But that’s where the similarities end (thankfully). The Portland four-piece—led by a 6-foot-5 Sabbath lover—throw in stoner riffs, autoharp, and lyrics about death. It’s the kind of record made to be listened to from front to back; and the more you listen the darker it gets. Which is how we like things around here.

“Pretty Machete” - Old Light

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10. The Monitor - Titus Andronicus (XL Recordings)

These guys took a left on E Street and ended up in the Deep South. Using the American Civil War as a metaphor for the wacky game of life, guitarist/vocalist/beard aficionado Patrick Stickles leads his motley crew through 10 punk rock epics that give equal nods to the drunk singalongs of the Pogues as they do Jersey’s favorite son (hint: not Jon Bon Jovi). An album about America’s bloodiest war by a band named after Shakespeare’s bloodiest tragedy can be nothing but a bloody good time.

“A More Perfect Union” - Titus Andronicus

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9. Soft Crash - Nothing People
(S.S. Records)

It’s a given that any year Nothing People put out a new record it will end up on a TDoL year-end list. Because this mysterious trio from the sticks of Orland, California (where, coincidentally, there is a high incidence of UFO sightings) has yet to put out a bad album. Soft Crash is these beings’ the band’s third full-length, another dark, sci-fi creepshow oozing with mangled guitars, spaced-out synths and echoed vocals. This is the sound of the future. And the past. Listen up—Nothing People are watching you.

“Avoiding Needles” - Nothing People

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8. Songs For the Ravens - Sea of Bees (Crossbill Records)

If you haven’t heard the voice of Julie Baenziger, aka Jules, aka Sea of Bees, then you’re missing out on something special. The 24-year-old Californian had barely been in a band when Tape Op honcho John Baccigaluppi heard her singing in a Sacramento studio. She recorded 2009’s The Bee Eee Pee soon after. Her followup is lush, yet spare, showcasing Baenziger’s Björk-meets-Leigh Nash register in addition to her musical ability (she plays everything but drums). Can you say wunderkind?

“Wizbot” - Sea of Bees

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7. Astro Coast - Surfer Blood (Kanine Records)

I never shook Surfer Blood’s Astro Coast. These baby-faced Floridians have put out one of the best guitar records of the year—songs, hummable; riffs, air-guitarable; cheeks, pinchable. Vocalist John Paul Pitts croons like Steven Patrick Morrissey while the band dashes out wicked indie rock with the occasional Afro-Cuban break. Many a fickle blogger has probably spat the band out like a wad of chum. I’ll wait for the next record to decide whether or not they’re just another flavor of the month.

“Floating Vibes” - Surfer Blood

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6. Before Today - Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti (4AD)

I became completely fascinated with Ariel Pink this year simply because he’s an honest-to-goodness weirdo. I’m not very familiar with his older material (dozens of self-recorded mixtapes, EPs, singles …), but I do like Before Today—a modern, lo-fi take on that magical and funky era from 1977 to 1983. Bottom line: Whether his songs are pretty and vulnerable or completely grating and bizarre, by the end of the record you know the eccentric/recluse thing isn’t an act.

“Beverly Kills” - Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti

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5. The Grand Theatre, Volume One - Old 97’s (New West)

My beloved Old 97’s discovered the fountain of youth in 2010 (what, you didn’t read about that?). Not since 2001’s Satellite Rides has the band fired on all cylinders—energy, songs, production. It’s all here. No fat. No filler. The 97’s are still the best at blurring the lines between British Invasion and Texas Twang, and this time around they do so relentlessly, while incorporating garage rock and power pop into the mix. On a side note, I had the chance to meet them this year. I wept only once.

“Every Night is Friday Night (Without You)” - Old 97’s

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4. Failed Graves - The Lights (Wäntage USA)

Seattle’s The Lights are sort of oblivious to what’s going on around them, cranking out cranky rock ‘n’ roll that sounds as if it could have fallen from a ’90s wormhole. Failed Graves (only their third LP in more than a decade as a band) might be mistaken for straight-ahead rock. Nonsense. Guitars snake around throbbing bass-lines while the drums fill empty spaces and vocals drone in and out of key. Think Mudhoney meets Pavement meets Spaghetti Western. Really, what’s not to like?

“Puerto Escondido” - The Lights

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3. Melted - Ty Segall
(Goner Records)

San Francisco is quite the hotbed of rock (no, I’m not talking the San Andreas Fault), including the manic Thee Oh Sees, the Sandwitches and Sonny & the Sunsets, just to name a few. But there’s something about Ty Segall. Melted is the most visceral and fun 30 minutes I’ve experienced in some time—I mean, it’s saying something if a song makes me want to pogo and do the Mashed Potato. Naked. “Girlfriend” and “Imaginary Person” can do that to a person. This I promise you.

“Girlfriend” - Ty Segall

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2. Mines - Menomena
(Barsuk Records)

Menomena’s Mines is a stunning piece of work. The fact that it was pieced together by three members who hardly spoke throughout the process makes it even more incredible. Mines is less spastic then previous records, but no less intricate. Drums are bombastic, while synths, guitars, sax and other noises creep in and out of earshot. It’s an immense collage of sound, and every sound has purpose. No wanking here—this is a band unafraid to throw it all in your face and leave your ears ringing.

“Five Little Rooms” - Menomena

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1. Halcyon Digest - Deerhunter (4AD)

Bradford Cox is a music fan, first and foremost—a guy who pines for those days when you waited for release dates and plastered your walls with pictures of rock stars ripped out of Creem and Rolling Stone. That spirit runs throughout Deerhunter’s Halcyon Digest, a record that brings all of the band’s powers together. When I say “powers” I mean the ability to embrace inanimate drum loops, bleeps and bloops as well as flesh-and-blood rock ’n’ roll without ever losing sight of a good hook. I can’t think of another band aside from Radiohead that can pull it off. I also like the fact that there are loads of bands doing the garage rock thing—looking the part, recording through shitty mics—and here’s Bradford Cox writing some of the best garage pop out there without really trying. Halcyon Digest is a seamless album that’s simply fun to listen to. Easy listening for people with impeccable taste.

“Revival” - Deerhunter

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The Rest of the Best of the Rest

Lupon - Y La Bamba (Tender Loving Empire)

That’s How We Burn - Jaill (Sub Pop)

Transference - Spoon (Merge)

The Great Return - Purple Rhinestone Eagle (Stank House)

Pop Negro - El Guincho (Young Turks)

Equilibrio! - Wow & Flutter (Mount Fuji)

Crazy For You - Best Coast (Mexican Summer)

At Night We Live - Far (Vagrant)

Man Pop - Graham Repulski (Shorter)

No Great Lost: Songs, 1979-1985 - Kevin Dunn (Casa Nueva)

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Tags: "2010", American Gong, Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti, Astro Coast, Before Today, Deerhunter, Failed Graves, Halcyon Digest, How I Got Over, Melted, Menomena, Mines, Montañas, Montañas 10", Nothing People, Old 97's, Old Light, Quasi, Sea of Bees, Soft Crash, Songs For the Ravens, Surfer Blood, The Dirty Future, The Goodnight Loving, The Goodnight Loving Supper Club, The Grand Theatre Volume One, The Lights, The Monitor, The Roots, Titus Andronicus, Ty Segall, year-end list

Rhett Miller dreams Old 97’s

Tuesday, October 12th, 2010 | interviewZ, musiX | 4 Comments

It’s no secret that The Days of Lore is cuckoo has a bit of a soft spot for the Old 97’s. That said, the band’s last couple of records lacked the urgency of classics like Wreck Your Life and Too Far to Care—just ask any kook who follows the band (2008’s Blame It On Gravity came close, but sounded at times like they were aping some of their older material).

Now I’m not sure what the members (that’s singer/guitarist Rhett Miller, bassist/vocalist Murry Hammond, guitarist Ken Bethea and drummer Philip Peeples, for those keeping track—the same four guys that formed the band in 1993) have been up to for the past two years, but they sound rejuvenated on their eighth LP The Grand Theatre, Volume One (out today on New West Records). Not only does it reclaim some of the twang, but it one-ups that by dipping into garage and power-pop. “Every Night is Friday Night (Without You)” sounds like the Bay City Rollers playing a Dallas honky tonk with a roomful of six-shooters aimed at them. And Hammond’s “You Were Born to Be In Battle” is the kinda song you wish Johnny Cash recorded during his Rick Rubin years. I’ll even take “A State of Texas,” an ode to the Lone Star State that could be considered cheesy if it didn’t come off so sincere.

If there’s ever a band that’s brought the two disparate worlds of England and Texas together it’s the Old 97’s. Miller wrote most of the material for The Grand Theatre while touring the UK with Steve Earle, and he and the rest of the 97’s convened at Sons of Hermann Hall in Dallas to lay down what ended up being almost two-dozen songs (Volume Two will be out next May).

“It’s sort of that moment where those two cultures intersect,” explained Miller, who wrote the title track after Birmingham’s Grand Theatre. “And I think that sort of speaks to where this record is coming from.”

TDoL caught up with Miller to talk about songwriting, his hero David Foster Wallace and looking back on a career that spans almost two decades.

TDoL: You did the recording in Texas, and I know you live in the Hudson Valley now. Would you ever consider living in Texas again?
Rhett Miller: It’s a place I’d live again, but it’s a place I’d have a hard time convincing my wife to live. Years before we met she spent a year living in Dallas … well, a year living in Dallas one summer [laughs]. She was over it pretty quick. I come back enough to visit where I don’t feel like I’m losing my connection. There’s a song on the new record called “A State of Texas,” and the chorus is “I’m living in a state of Texas, and Texas lives in me.” I may not actually live there anymore, but I’m still a Texan.

Do you still listen to country? Is it still a part of your musical world?
Yeah. My wife and her family are all huge Willie Nelson fans, as am I, so there’s a lot of Willie that goes on in our house. There are a couple stations on satellite radio that play traditional country and bluegrass. It’s so funny, the similarities between bluegrass and punk rock are so great. They’re two styles of music that people never really think about being similar, but to me they’re right there next to each other—the speed and the intensity. All my favorite bluegrass and the punk rock and glam rock I like seem to have more howling vocals. I spent a couple of years right at the beginning of the Old 97’s as just a touring member of this punk bluegrass band called Killbilly, and I learned about a guitar player’s right arm. Like I can’t make a lot of jazz chords and I can’t do blistering leads but I can strum faster than most people I’ve played with. And I’m proud of that. To me there’s something very propulsive—it’s a marriage of percussion and melody when an acoustic guitar gets played like that.

Yeah, I’m definitely more into the energy and spirit in the music.
I think that’s what people look for. They want a release where they can enjoy themselves and have fun. I’ve had moments in my catalog where I’m sort of being introspective and quiet or sad or whatever, but they’re not my favorites. My favorites are the ones where people can really have a whole sort of joyous exuberance, you know? They get to be part of a crowd of people singing fun songs. I love that.

You’ve been doing this a long time. How have you gone about balancing making a career in music and keeping your integrity?
For me that’s always been a bit of a self-correcting problem. Every time, and there haven’t been many times, but the few times I’ve calculated an attempt to have something that’s really accessible or commercial it’s fallen so flat on my ears and on the ears of my bandmates. There are people out there that are really good crafters of pop—and not in the sense that I like pop music, but pop in a sense that it’s going to be popular. And those people are great, and they write for the Disney network, or the tween bands, and they’re making a lot of money and they’re not doing anything evil. But I just can’t do that, I can’t. The few times I feel like I’ve tried to be something I’m not, it sounded exactly like a guy trying to be something he’s not. I kind of wish I was good at it because the alternative is to make a living by going on the road and playing gigs. As much as I love doing that it becomes harder with each passing year to leave my wife and my kids. You know, that’s a tough way to make living, and it’s really the only way to make a living.

Is there an Old 97’s album that maybe you hold a little more dear than others?
I know that some of my bandmates have records they feel like, “Well, that was our watermark; that was our high-point, the moment we’re striving to reclaim.” I have a hard time thinking like that because the glorification of the past gets in the way of the present moment. I would rather think that the record I’m making now is the best record I’ve ever made, and I’ve always tended to do that. In retrospect I can be a little more objective about records. I think Too Far to Care was a really great moment in our band because we had just gone through the courtship of all the major labels fighting to sign us and we had a huge budget to go off and do whatever we wanted. We didn’t really understand how unlikely it was for us to have enormous commercial success, so that still was dangling out there as something that was really possible. But as things went along we thought enormous commercial success is reserved for a few people that tend to be a little more flash in the pan, accidental kind of successes. And we always said we wanted to be a career band before a hit-singles band.

One thing the Old 97’s have is a rabid following …
Yeah. From what I’ve been able to gather a few things happened: Right when we started in the early-, mid-’90s it was the beginning of the Internet chat-room phenomenon, so I know we were able to build up a little following through word of mouth—the beginning of what is now the medium for finding out about bands. I also think we were lucky not to have a hit, you know a song that became annoyingly ubiquitous. And we were lucky that we never really had a huge clunker. We never made one of those swing-for-the-fences kinda records that had a bunch of horns or a bunch of keyboards. I think there’s a couple records that I think in retrospect are a little less listenable, but even those—objectively speaking—have a few good songs on them.

Can I guess which album?
Yeah.

Drag It Up?
I’ve gotten in trouble with the band for pointing out that that’s not my favorite record before so I won’t dwell on it, but yeah that was a tough one to make. But if we hadn’t made that we wouldn’t have been able to survive as a band. It was coming out of me making The Instigator, and we were just feeling out how we were going to work in this post-modern music industry.

Is there an artist or band that has influenced you in taking sometimes bleak themes and setting them to pop hooks?
I haven’t really thought about it, but off the top of my head I could rattle off a few of the people I’ve been obsessed with at various points in my life. I spent my fifteenth birthday seeing The Smiths on The Queen is Dead tour. Even though Morrissey is famously mopey, there’s something about Johnny Marr’s guitar playing, and sort of the song structure and the liveliness of the drums and arrangements. Even the Buzzcocks—their songs tended to be kinda complicated with very dark undertones, but super happy, poppy stuff. I recently got to be friends with Steve Garvey, the old bassist for the Buzzcocks. What sweet guy. I was told that Steve Garvey was coming to this gig, and I was like, “OK, I don’t really follow baseball.” And then he walked in and he’s British, and I’m looking at him funny. And he goes [in British accent], “I’m not the baseball player; I’m from the Buzzcocks.” And I was like, “Fuck yes!” And I made him and his wife hang out with me all night long. We’ve stayed in touch; we exchange ideas about audio books—that’s what my friendship with Steve Garvey of the Buzzcocks is based on [laughs].

You were talking about audio books … I know David Foster Wallace has been an influence on you in some capacity …
Are you familiar with his stuff?

I’ve only read a few essays from Consider the Lobster.
That was a great one. It was such a relief because he had A Supposedly Fun Thing I’ll Never Do Again, and then his sort of apex of his career in Infinite Jest. And after Infinite Jest he put out Brief Interviews With Hideous Men, which was … fuck, talk about dark. I mean that’s as dark a book as I’ve ever read. And the fact that it was so well executed made it even more painful to read. That was the first time I ever really got a glimpse into how hard it must have been to be as perceptive as he was. Anyway, when Consider the Lobster came out I felt like this was a good sign about DFW. It still makes me so sad that it worked out the way it did for him.

Were your songs more autobiographical when you started? Are they more character-based now?
I have a hard time even saying, just because I try not to think about it too much. I find that when I do, I edit myself to the detriment of the song. I guess if I’m an observer of my songwriting I’d say that the fact that I sang more about getting drunk and maybe having a looser moral code was more reflective of where I was in my mid-20s writing early 97’s songs. And now my songs have less of that which is reflective of the fact that I found true love and settled down and had a family. I guess there’s an element of autobiography with the debauchery that happens in the songs. I feel like it was only yesterday. If I feel like going to a weird, dark, drunken, angry place it’s very easy to go there. The new songs feel very autobiographical to me but when I sit down and look at them I realize this stuff is just a story and it could be anybody and the details aren’t necessarily the details from my life.

The Old 97’s are one of the few bands I know that still play a large chunk of their catalog …
You know what’s funny, is that twice we’ve done four-night stands—once in New Jersey and once in Dallas—where we did zero repeats except for “Timebomb” at the end of each show. Over both of those four-night stands we played almost 100 songs. Really, the number of songs we didn’t play from our released material was under 10. It’s crazy. And now we’re about to add anywhere from 16 to 20 songs to that list, so apparently our sets are going to have to be even longer.

And you hardly rehearse …
We do pre-production on a record where we’ll get together and play those songs. And like for me I do solo gigs where I play a lot of the catalog in that situation. Every night I dream about the band—I check into a hotel, or I’m playing a gig. That’s rehearsal.

“The Grand Theatre” - Old 97’s

Photo by Allison V. Smith

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Tags: Drag It Up, interview, Ken Bethea, Murry Hammond, New West Records, Old 97's, Philip Peeples, Rhett Miller, The Grand Theatre, Too Far to Care

Old 97’s: New double album?

Monday, April 26th, 2010 | musiX | No Comments

Anyone who knows me, or keeps up with TDoL, knows I’m a bit of an Old 97’s freak fan. Why wouldn’t I be? Better yet—why wouldn’t you be? So imagine my giddiness when I saw The Dallas Observer had dropped in on the band while they recorded basic tracks for their forthcoming record at Sons of Hermann Hall in Dallas.

The following clip offers a nice chunk of a new tune, a song title in “Every Night Is Friday Night Without You” and a ghost story from bassist Murry Hammond. Salim Nourallah, who produced 2008’s Blame It On Gravity, is manning the boards again, and it sounds like there’s a lot of material. The Old 97’s always modest frontman/looker Rhett Miller explains in the waning seconds of the clip. Sounds like I better reserve a spot on The Days of Lore (2010? 2011?) year-end list.

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Tags: Murry Hammond, new album, Old 97's, Rhett Miller, Salim Nourallah

Old 97’s: The early years

Tuesday, December 15th, 2009 | musiX | 1 Comment

Remember alt-country? The Uncle Tupelos, The Jayhawks, the Whiskeytowns and Old 97’s that were going to take over the world the way grunge bands did only a few years before?

While the genre never quite took off the way record labels had probably hoped, some of the bands did all right for themselves … or at least spawned bands that would go on to make some pretty decent twangified noise. From the ashes of Uncle Tupelo came Wilco. Ryan Adams left Whiskeytown to become the much-loved/hated, overly blogged, Mandy Moore-marrying fellow he is today. The Old 97’s? Well, they’re still the Old 97’s … although it’s not exactly the same band it was back in the ’90s.

Before going on to dabble in slick-produced power pop on major label outings like Fight Songs and Satellite Rides, the Old 97’s released Wreck Your Life on Bloodshot Records. It was a perfect fit. Bloodshot—founded in 1994 by Nan Warshaw and Rob Miller—tapped into the energy and spirit of punk rock as well as classic country, releasing records from Alejandro Escovedo, The Bottle Rockets and the Waco Brothers—not to mention Ryan Adams’ 2000 solo debut Heartbreaker, the label’s best-selling album to date.

Bloodshot is celebrating its 15th anniversary this year with the release of Wreck Your Life … and Then Some: The Complete Bloodshot Recordings. The double-disc includes a remastered reissue of the Old 97’s 1995 classic Wreck Your Life, as well as outtakes from the WYL sessions that ended up on 2000’s Early Tracks EP. It’s the first time Wreck Your Life has been released on sweet, sweet vinyl … and just in time for Christmas (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).

Wreck Your Life is arguably the band’s best, a full-throttle ride through sleazy punk rock hubs and Wild West ghost towns—although the pop that would eventually take a front seat in their later output still lurks in the shadows. “W.I.F.E.”—originally released as a 7-inch and later re-recorded for Wreck Your Life—sounds as if it could have been peeled from Buck Owens‘ You’re For Me. There’s even a sunshine-y chorus in the murder ballad “The Other Shoe” where a cheating lover meets her maker by way of “a blue-steel .45.” The song is sandwiched between a couple of cow-punk burners in “Victoria” and “Doreen,” the latter of which wallows in familiar territory of guitarist/vocalist Rhett Miller’s book-smart, forlorn lyrics. In a vast sea of great ’90s records, this one is definitely worth revisiting.

While the Old 97’s 1994 debut Hitchhike to Rhome (released on Dallas indie label Big Iron Records) lacks the energy of WYL, it still captures the band in its fiery youth … back when Bill Monroe and Merle Haggard covers were fair game. “St. Ignatius” and “Hands Off” feel right at home next to covers of Haggard’s “Mama Tried” and Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys’ 1942 classic “Miss Molly,” while the gritty shuffle of “504″ and “If My Heart Was a Car” tap into those ’70s punk influences.

Amazingly, the Old 97’s are still together making records—good ones, too, as 2008’s Blame it On Gravity split the middle between the band’s country and pop eras. Perhaps the Old 97’s longevity is due to the fact that they never made anything that didn’t come naturally … not to mention they always sounded like they were having a lot more fun than most of their contemporaries.

“Victoria” - Old 97’s (Wreck Your Life)

“The Other Shoe” - Old 97’s (Wreck Your Life)

“W.I.F.E.” - Old 97’s (7-inch version)

“504″ - Old 97’s (Hitchhike to Rhome)

Tags: alt-country, Bloodshot Records, Hitchhike to Rhome, Old 97’s, Rhett Miller, Ryan Adams, The Bottle Rockets, The Jayhawks, Uncle Tupelo, Waco Brothers, Wilco, Wreck Your Life ... and Then Some