Showing posts with label Punk Rock. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Punk Rock. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

"Ever" by Lemonheads/Ben Deily



ARTIST: Ben Deily of Lemonheads
SONG: "Ever"
WRITER: Ben Deily
ALBUM: Lick on Taang! Records
YEAR: 1989

Before there was a "The" out in front of their name, Lemonheads had two great singers and songwriters. Their styles and voices came together for three full length albums and one EP, all released within a very short period of time. Ben Deily left the band after their record Lick was released in 1989 - but not before he gave us the saccharine sweet, delicious confection, "Ever." I've seen Ben play in other outfits, but missed him in Lemonheads, sadly. I was not as keen on missing him for this interview series. Imagine my delight when he agreed to indulge me. He turned out, not surprisingly, to be the nicest guy of all time.

BA: Hey Ben! Thanks for taking the time to cast your memory back for this interview.  I’m so happy to be talking with you.

BD: Hey, the pleasure is all mine. It’s extremely flattering to have a song I wrote called out for this kinda attention, after all.

BA: So, I think "Ever" is a terrific love song. I secretly wish it (or anything like it) had been written for me. Alas, I only came as close as having my high-school boyfriend put it on a mix tape. Talk to me about who this song was written for. Did she “get it”?

BD: I sure hope she did. Hah! Actually, these days she–the ostensible subject/object of the song–is an academic at [cough] an “eminent Ivy League institution," so you could say she’s pretty sharp. Thus, I imagine she got the message, such as it was. (Not that it prevented her from tearing out my heart and eating it like a fruit roll-up . . . but, ah! We were all so, so young. Plus, that’s a whole ‘nother story.)

BA: How is it that you were a wise, grounded person at the ripe age of . . . what,
twenty? Were you drawing on real life experiences for these lyrics?

BD: Kind of you to say. (Actually, make that–gulp–17 or so.) I dunno. A more plausible explanation–since I was neither wise nor grounded–would probably involve looking to the fundamentally conservative mores of your average sensitive/self-styled romantic teenage boy. You know how insufferable and clingy they can be. Wearing eyeliner, reading poetry, and flopping around. “Ah love, let us be true to one another!”

But yeah, the lyrics are indeed drawn from an (admittedly impressionistic) account of real events, people and places. Now that I cast my mind back, actually, the original words I wrote had some, er, slightly . . . lurid bits. (Rather than, “And there together in the curtain-drifting twilight . . .” the original line was, “And you were naked in the curtain-drifting twilight . . .” I must have deemed that a bit past the bounds of propriety.)

In terms of “real life experiences," though, it’s funny: I think almost everything I’ve ever written has been–for better or worse–drawn directly from life. (And it only gets worse. When Varsity Drag released Night Owls, our most recent album, I remember remarking that every single word on the record was literally true. Well, almost every one.) I should probably change that habit. Lawsuits, and all that.

BA: You reference the Beatles song, "When I’m Sixty-Four," in the line: 
“The record asks 'will you still need me when I’m sixty-four?'”
Were they a big influence at the time  Who else were you listening to?

BD: Well, like a lot of '70s kids, I was practically weaned listening to the Beatles . . . my dad would put their records on to lull my kid brother and me to sleep, as far back as I can remember. So definitely in the background for all of us, to be sure. The kind of influence that’s so far down in the bedrock of what you consider to be “a good song," it doesn’t even pop up as a conscious influence, y’know?

As far as stuff we were listening to, well, tons of Boston hardcore and punk bands . . . and of course Replacements and Hüsker Dü . . . Big Star . . . lots of UK ’77 punk . . . early L.A. punk like the Germs, and Black Flag, Circle Jerks, X, Agent Orange . . . geez, I guess really the whole gamut, when I think about it. (But–cards on the table–if I had to pull out a key "Ever"-influence from that list, I think I pretty much hear Bob Mould.)

But back to the particular Beatles reference: that takes us back–ironically enough–to mix tapes. If memory serves me, the “girl in question” had made a mix tape that included several Beatles tunes, among which was "When I’m Sixty-Four." So the lyrical reference, while striving for some kinda resonance, was also based on an actual, observed moment between us. These things happen. Life is stranger than fishin’.

BA: It’s always been fuzzy for me, what the order of operations were, regarding this song’s life. Was it originally recorded for Hate Your Friends (1987), but not released until Lick (1989)?

BD: Yep. Recorded in the same sessions as a lot of Hate Your Friends, not released until a couple years later. As I recall, part of the reason may have involved some friction around whether such sentimental fare was appropriate for “a punk band like Lemonheads." (I got some of the same flack regarding the inclusion of our first-ever original acoustic song "Postcard," on Creator.) Seems funny now, doesn’t it? Hah.

BA: Am I correct in my understanding that at this stage of the band, you and Evan Dando were trading off on drums and guitar/vocals, depending on whose song was being played?

BD: Yeah. That’s how the whole thing started. Ev and I–just the two of us–swapping back and forth on drums and guitar. We played that way for the better part of a year, but figured we had to add a bass player to be a “real” band and play out (this being before Congress legalized two-person bands with the historic White Stripes Act of 1997). But we went right on with the switching, as a trio, ‘til we finally added a full-time drummer and both went up front. You can see the early configurations in video from our first-ever show:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0hT97CK_dY

BA: Is that Evan singing the low harmonies on the chorus, or are you singing with yourself?

BD: That’s Ev all right. What an awesome voice.

BA: How did you guys record this? Were you just in a room with mics, playing
the hell out of the song, or were there layers involved?

BD: Musta been at Tom Hamilton’s studio in Brookline, where we recorded the first EP and a lot of the first couple records. My memory is bad. What was that place called? The Sound Cellar? It was either 8 track or 16 track reel-to-reel. A real studio, though, to be sure . . . mics and headphones, overdubs, the whole nine yards. (Tom is and was an excellent engineer, and friend, to us. And he’s worked on a lot of seminal Boston rock and punk stuff over the years. Heckuva body of work.)

BA: I’ve seen around the interwebs that you’ve played "Ever" with your more recent project, Varsity Drag. How does it feel to play it in this chapter of your life? Is it still relevant for you?

BD: Well, apparently it was still relevant enough to audiences that we got a lot of people shouting it out. So it seemed like it’d be ungracious for us not to learn it. But I will admit, revisiting it gives me a new appreciation for earnest li’l Ben. It’d be easy to be embarrassed by one’s younger self, I guess, but from this distance . . . I feel for the kid. Plus, it means so much to me that something I wrote means something to fans. 
(For what it’s worth, while I know the original recording will always be preferred by those for whom it had significance, I think I kinda do it better now than I ever used to . . . at least in terms of my “performance,” or whatever. We give it a run for its money, anyhoo.)

http://varsitydrag.bandcamp.com/track/ever-live

BA: What’s your favorite song right this minute?

BD: Right this minute? Anything off of Rain On The City by Freedy Johnston. Freedy = god.  And also, anything from the (tragically) only album by the band Plexi, Cheer Up. It’s on Sub Pop. F*ckin’ epic stuff. Spent the other weekend playing bass along with it over and over again, until I gave myself a sore sacroiliac joint from jumping around on one foot. (Swear to god, I may have been–as many people accused me of being–middle-aged at heart when I was a teen, but now that I’m really here? I am not doing it very gracefully.)

BA: Thanks again, man! I’m still holding out for a song like this in my lifetime,
but you’ve set the bar pretty high. Cheers.

BD: Again, you are too, too kind to say so. And here’s hoping you get someone off their ass and behind a guitar to write that for ya. Hint: breaking their heart first will probably help tease out a higher level of quality. Just a word to the wise. (Fellas, admit it: you know I’m right about this.) 

Saturday, March 17, 2012

"Static" by Jawbox/J. Robbins



ARTIST: J. Robbins of Jawbox
SONG: "Static"
WRITERS: Jawbox: J. Robbins, Bill Barbot, Kim Coletta, Adam Wade
ALBUM: Novelty on Dischord Records 
YEAR: 1992
SITES: J. Robbins, Dischord Records, DeSoto Records
BUY: Novelty - Jawbox

So far, I'm two-for-two in the Interviews With Awesome People category. J. Robbins is known for many things. The names Government Issue, Burning Airlines, Channels and Office of Future Plans will all lead you back to him, and his name can be found in the liner notes of countless albums, as producer and/or engineer. He currently holds court at his own studio, The Magpie Cage in Baltimore, Maryland. One might safely say that he's been busy for thirty years or so. 

Today, we get to focus in on a chapter of his musical story that influenced an entire generation of rock: Jawbox. "Static," from the band's second album, is a personal favorite of mine and I'm thrilled to share J.'s words about it with you all. 

BA: J.! It’s been a long time since you and I have had a proper chat about music. Glad to have the opportunity to do so. Thanks for agreeing to this.

JR:
Thank YOU.

BA: How does it feel to have written a song that all parts are sung along to – including the guitar riffs?

JR:
If that is really true of "Static," or of anything else I’ve written, then it feels great!

BA: Thinking about this song within the context of the Jawbox catalog, it’s on Novelty, the first album that you guys made as a four-piece. Did the addition of Bill Barbot (on second guitar and vocals) change your sense of freedom when it came to writing and/or performing? Did it inform the way this song took shape?

JR:
Becoming a 2-guitar band was a great opportunity to stretch out musically, especially since I always hear harmonies and counterpoint in my head when I write. Ultimately it also gave me a chance to play less and sing more, because Bill tended to always write really foreground-type guitar parts and with two people doing that all the time, things got claustrophobic pretty quick. After Zach Barocas joined the band, we started to really focus on dynamics, and I tended to be the first to scale back my guitar parts to make breathing room . . . but when we wrote "Static," we tended to just all be bashing away full-bore all the time. When it was written, "Static" was probably the most dynamic song we had. But it’s so straightforward, it’s one of the few Jawbox songs that doesn’t rely on the quirks of the individual players for its core identity. Unlike a lot of other Jawbox stuff, I can comfortably say, “I wrote that song.”

BA: Lyrically, the song has a message that seems personal in nature. Would you mind talking about what the jump-off feelings or ideas were? I’d also like to know if you arrived at the chorus through the writing of the verse, etc, or if you started with that and built around it.

JR:
The song was written just after my half-sister “divorced” my family, for reasons that were not 100% clear at the time. I had always been very close to her, in fact I would say she raised me, as much as or more than my parents did. But in the wake of this decision, at her insistence, we didn’t speak again for about 10 years. It was a very strange moment, incredibly sad, but I also trusted her to be doing the right thing for the right reasons. It really put me at odds with my parents because I was really on her side of it. I didn’t know what else to do with the feelings around this event, so they went into a song. The song also references TV sort of obliquely, because it was such a force in my childhood, as a kid I was really shaped by TV, and funnily enough my sister went on to work in TV throughout my adolescence and early adulthood. So that’s the part about her teaching me how to see it.

BA: I know I’m not alone in my curiosity about the (vocal?) noise behind the first verse. What/who is that? If it is a voice, what’s it saying?

JR:
That’s Bill, shouting into a megaphone. I think he’s saying, “I’m sunk . . . In static!” over and over again. We felt like the intro seemed flat when it was just bass and vocals, and maybe some random noise would make it more engaging.

BA: What did Iain Burgess bring to this song that it might not have had before? Was his production instrumental in rendering the version we have all come to know and love, or was the song more or less complete by the time you went into the studio?

JR:
The song was totally written at that point, except for the megaphone bit, which came up in the studio. Although I know I left a lot of specifics, especially about the vocal, to the last minute. Iain was really just a great engineer and a great, funny guy to be around. His influence was enormous, but it had more to do with the fact that we couldn’t believe the same guy who recorded Naked Raygun and Big Black was here in DC recording our band. That was hugely energizing. We were now just one degree of separation from music that literally changed our lives! And Iain seemed to be a genuine fan.


BA: Who were you listening to around the time that you wrote "Static"?

JR:
Naked Raygun, Buzzcocks, Helmet, Moving Targets and Bullet La Volta, lots of Chicago bands, Fugazi of course . . . all the usual suspects, exactly who you might guess from listening! But the song was directly inspired by the first Lemonheads single, "Laughing All the Way to the Cleaners." Up to this time I just couldn’t bring myself to write a simple song with simple changes, driven by a vocal melody. I always wrote around guitar parts, trying quite consciously to outsmart myself at every turn. But I heard that single and I thought it was incredible: “Wait a minute, I don’t have to torture myself to write something good, I just have to get in there and DO IT.” Of course I loved loads of simple songs before this - can’t get simpler than "Pink Flag" by Wire, right?  But Wire has this cool factor, this je ne sais quoi . . . whereas there was nothing even remotely cool about that Lemonheads 7”! But those songs reached out and grabbed me before I could put my thinking cap on. Which is now, to me, the ultimate. That’s what I think you should always be going for.

BA: Having lived with the album’s recording of the song for this many years, is there anything you would have done differently? For instance, I’ve noticed that in live performances, the phrasing of the chorus is less drawn out. Is that merely a product of on-stage spontaneity, or do you prefer that way of singing it and possibly wish that you had sung it that way on the record?

JR:
I think "Static" got to be a way better song after we played it out, and that’s one of the results. That was a sort of ass-backward thing about Jawbox (as it is with a lot of bands). We tended to record songs before they were ever played live, and then they got a lot better once they’d been out in the world. All our records have a lot of half-assed ideas on them (I am only speaking for my contributions of course).

BA: I know that you’ve recently played some solo shows where you performed "Static." How does it feel to sing it today without the band? Does it become a different song for you?

JR:
Yes, I think it’s a better song now than it was then. It sounds better with a cello for one thing. And with some actual dynamics, not that I can execute them too well . . . I have been thinking of doing an acoustic record, and when I think of re-recording "Static," I am tempted to rewrite the lyrics too. I have a much better understanding of where I am coming from these days, and a lot of those old lyrics seem really awful to me. At least I know "Static" was actually about something! So it might become an even better song sometime. : ) But on the other hand, I haven’t really got into it, because tweaking and revising a 20-year old song . . . you know, that’s just weird.


BA: What’s your favorite song right this minute?

JR:
"Paris 1919" by John Cale. Almost anything by John Cale, really. Or Randy Newman. Or the Cheap Trick version of "I’m Losing You," by John Lennon. Or maybe "Total Eclipse of the Sun," by Einsturzende Neubauten.

BA: My long time friend and collaborator, Levi Fuller, sends this along (in the spirit of Chris Farley): “You know that one part, where after the big instrumental bridge, it drops down to a quiet reprise of the first verse with bass, guitar feedback and drums? And then it goes back into the flailing instrumental guitar rock-out to the end? That’s awesome.”

JR:
Thanks Levi!

BA: Thanks for taking the time for this, friend. It’s always a pleasure.

JR:
Thanks Buick!

Friday, March 9, 2012

"Weakness" by McRad/Chuck Treece



ARTIST: Chuck Treece of McRad
SONG: "Weakness"
WRITERS: Chuck Treece, John Wagner
ALBUM: Absence of Sanity on Beware Records
YEAR: 1987 
SITES: McRad, Chuck Treece
BUY: Absence of Sanity - McRad

This is my very first interview for this new project of mine. I figured there was no better place to start than with an artist for whom I have tremendous admiration and respect, Chuck Treece. Treece is one of the most recognizable faces and voices of the early crew that made skateboarding a worldwide phenomenon. His band McRad's song, "Weakness," was the unofficial anthem of a generation of skaters and fans, appearing in the legendary skate videos that Powell Peralta was producing at the time. One of my musical projects, They Rule, has recently finished recording a cover of this treasured piece of punk rock/hardcore history, adding our own booty-shaking spin on its existing radness. We are honored to have some guitar tracks on our version by the man himself.

Chuck and I did this interview via email, during his last of eight weeks out on the road as the drummer for The Lemonheads. Just when you think he can't get any cooler, he does.

BA:
First of all, thanks so much for taking the time to do this. I know you’re a busy man, on all fronts. This is very cool to be able to ask you these questions about your work.


CT: BA, thank you. Without music I would be a bit lost for words. I like poems when I am in the proper mood, but I like music 24/7. Poems come out of great music and that's what "Weakness" is all about. John Wagner co-wrote the lyrics with me. I still believe in a good message and this interview will be about my message back to music. Glad people can pick up on a good message . . . music.
  
BA: "Weakness" is such a beloved song among your fans, myself included. Do you feel like this song has been a constant presence in your music career, since you released it?

CT: From the first time that I played the guitar riff, I felt like I needed to give this song the best energy I could. I started writing the song in '85 after I moved back from San Francisco. I was in a band called the M-80's. I remember telling the lead singer, "Keith" that I had this song and it was real close to me. I wouldn't play it for anyone. Then I started McRad back up again after the original line-up had went its separate ways. I started getting the songs ready to fit around "Weakness." So, I had all of my dreams in this body of music that was to be Absence of Sanity, and I knew "Weakness" had a pulse. All it needed was the lift. Then comes Stacy Peralta, Beware Records and Ray Stevens. Those three folks had just as much to do with the song being embraced as I did. Every songwriter needs a good team of people to believe in a song's life history. Twenty-eight years later and I still love playing and singing the song - and I am completely blown away that other people still love the song also.

BA: Does it ring true for you today, all these years later, or does it feel like a
time capsule from your past? 

CT: Music means positive power to me until I listen to what people have to say. Most say things about music because music doesn't speak to them, so they speak through music, not along with music. I feel that "Weakness" is music first and story second. The world of skateboarding embraced it first, and then the art of video/film making with Stacy Peralta took the song to a whole new level. I will play this song 4-eva.

I still love to play "Weakness" live, and I will always make small changes and add parts to the sections when I am not singing. It's music - and almost a theater approach to music. That way, I change it when I feel like it. Kind of like what we all do to the spoken word. We all create catch phrases to make the art of talking to people more interesting.

BA: The lyrics have a universally relatable message. I think we all apply our own stories to your words. Can I ask you what the original inspiration was – more or less?

CT: John Wagner, the drummer of McRad was into R.E.M. and I was into Hüsker Dü. So, when we collab'ed on "Weakness," we met in the middle. Bob Mould had such a big influence on my songwriting and guitar playing, so any chance to be a bit like Bob, I would go for it. R.E.M. at that time was the new underground pop rock band that all the educated punkers were getting into. I started to listen to R.E.M.'s first LP after John was after me to check them out. 

The lyrics in "Weakness" are about young life. That's all we have - young life, until we decide that it's older or boring. My goal is to have "Weakness" be a pure sign of youth. It's an honor to co-write a song with a great musician, drummer and songwriter. John Wagner was completely into the art of songwriting, and I was just into keeping McRad alive after the break-up of the first line-up. 

BA: Did it take ten minutes to write, or more like ten hours?

CT: To write "Weakness," in total, took about five hours. That is, to perfect it. The album track is one version live, and the vocals, guitar solo and rhythm guitar were overdubbed. We recorded it in San Francisco. Also, we had been playing the song for about six months before recording it . . . it had to feel right before we recorded it.
  
BA: The first time I heard the song, I remember your vocals jumping out at me. They had such a soulful, emotional tone that stood out against the structure of the music.  I also like that the vocal is doubled. Was that your decision?

CT: Ray Stevens produced the vocals and knew what to do by double-tracking them. When he heard "Weakness," he told me to double-track the vocals which gave it this Ozzy vibe. I did them all the way through and then did some punch-ins on my mistakes or the notes Ray didn't feel were right for the song. It all happened so fast. I knew it and felt the direction of the song while being completely nervous about recording my voice. I made it happen and am thankful for that. 

Thanx to Ray Stevens for producing the LP. I still remember listening to the ruff mix and being thankful that I made the right choice to record and write this song for that LP. So priceless . . . the memories of growing and learning through the art of recording.

BA: Who were some of your influences at the time?

CT: Jimi Hendrix, Sly Stone, Bad Brains, Hüsker Dü, Blue Öyster Cult, Def Leppard, Ted Nugent, Metallica, Slayer, Artillery, James Taylor, Stevie Wonder, Descendents, The Dickies, 999, Buzzcocks, Void, Dio, Holy Diver and Motörhead.

All I would do was listen to music loud before my mom and the rest of the famz would get home from work. So, I had to crunch as much of my music as I could. Once they came home, I went to sk8 and think about music. Philadelphia is amazing for being and thinking creative. It's so fast and exact. No filler in the overall vibe/vine of Philly musicians, players and writers.

BA: How many different covers have you heard of "Weakness," over the years?

CT: I have heard about ten covers . . . most of them live, and one band recorded more of a metal version.
  
BA: How do you feel about a “roller-skating” version of your song going out into the world (by my band)?

CT: I like the roller-skating version. I used to go roller-skating when I was kid, and before I started skateboarding. You understand music and I heard that through yer version of "Weakness." I am glad ya did the version you wanted to do. That's what "Weakness" is all about. The first verse of the lyrics describes the entire song:

"My weakness is I can't say no . . ."

In other words, when I am thinking of music, my thoughts were to let my music be what it is inside of me. So, when I talk about it through singing and playing the song, it comes from within. That's the best place for music - within, before you let it out. Once it's out, the story has to be a bit of everyone's dreams. The art of making music . . . we want people to hear it, feel it and love it the way they want to.

BA: What’s your favorite song right this minute?

CT: "Frank Mills" by The Lemonheads. I wanna do a ska version of "Frank Mills." The melody is so nice. Evan Dando is a good one with his music and believes in collaborating with songwriters to create great music. That's what we all want - great collaborations that make great music . . . big stories without all the news or banter that comes along with scenes, and styles of scenes. Music is listened to, regardless of all of that opinionated noise.

BA: Thanks for talking with me, man. And thanks for making great music that we all get to sing along to, at the top of our lungs. It’s a gift.

CT: BA, thank you for loving music the way you want to. At the final sound of what we call life, music always makes the most sense. It's my quest to make sure me and my family understand how important music is for us to survive. The hits and the attention are great, but if we couldn't listen to each other it wouldn't matter. Music makes listening a pleasure. The choice is up to the person involved with music. Thank you.

I would like to thank Stacy Peralta, Thrasher Magazine, Ray Stevens, Tommy G., Ray Barbee, Brian Ware, Deluxe Records, Thunder Trucks, Ace Trucks, Pocket Pistols, Bones Wheels, Nike SB, and all the folks that have listened in for so many years.

CHUCK