Death+Taxes Issue 22 2009

New

NO AGE SONG INSIDE. CAn YOU FIND IT?

*

OUR FIRST INTERACTIVE ISSUE

JAY REATARD IS HEre to SAVE

NEW TECHNOLOGY INSIDE

ROCK AND ROLL

HOW JONATHAN AMES TooK HOLLYWOOD AIR Wild Beasts YACHT SUFJAN STEVENS

Interactive Content SPONSoRED by SCION

THE SCION xB

Don't box yourself in. With over 150 accessories to choose from, you can make your xB unlike any other.

Vehicles shown are special project cars, modified with non-Genuine Scion parts and accessories. Modification with these non-Genuine Scion parts or accessories will void the Scion warranty, may negatively impact vehicle performance & safety, and may not be street legal. For more information, call 866-70-SCION (866-707-2466) or visit Scion.com. Š 2009 Scion, a marque of Toyota Motor Sales, U.S.A., Inc. All rights reserved. Scion, the Scion logo, and xB are trademarks of Toyota Motor Corporation.

Features 72 | JAY REATARD Jay Reatard is here to save rock and roll.

Give thanks and praise.

By Alex Moore | Photos By Ray Lego 82 | THE FUTURE IS UPON US The Venus Project. Terraforming.The Mayans. Time travel. The future: It gives us a mighty boner. Read why.

89 | THE FUTURE, ALL WRONG Cyborgs, flying cars, hoverboards—how come all the sci-fi movies from the eighties got the future all wrong?

By Stephen Blackwell

98 | FALL FASHION Yacht are hot.

Photos By Tom Hines | Styling by Dustin McSwane 108 | JONATHAN AMES The world’s wildest writer just broke into Hollywood. Here’s how.

By Max Goldblatt | Photos By Bryan Sheffield 112 | THE FUTURE ACCORDING TO YOU We partnered up with the Lomographic Society and pondered the question, “What does the future look like?” Thousands of you answered, and we whittled it down to the best ten photos.

Now you pick.

New

NO AGE SONG INSIDe. CAN YOU FIND IT? OUR FIRST *INTERACTIVE

ISSUE

JAY REATARD IS Here TO SAVe

NEW TECHNOLOGY INSIDE

ROCK AND ROLL

HOW JONATHAN AMES TOOK HOLLYWOOD AIR WILD BEASTS YACHT SUFJAN STEVENS

InteractIve content SPonSoreD by ScIon

J ay R e ata r d p h o t o gr a p h e d on the bank of the mi s s i s s ippi i n m e mp h i s

BY R AY L E G O

06

S NE OPVT//DOECCT 22000099 HHEELLLLOO

www.ray-ban.com

Style: RB 3016

Departments 12 | EDITORS’ LETTER

MUSIC

14 | CONTRIBUTORS 16 | EVENTS

35 | RAIN MACHINE

18 | WHEEL OF SUCK

36 | THE XX 38 | DIVISION DAY

THE LATEST

40 | OWEN 42 | NEON INDIAN

21 | NEW YORK, WE LOVE YOU TOO

44 | KINGS OF CONVENIENCE

22 | STYLE By Alex Moore

48 | SUFJAN STEVENS

26 | BOOKS By Stephen Blackwell

52 | WHY?

28 | DIGITALISM By Stephen Blackwell

56 | WILD BEASTS

30 | CONFESSIONS By Doug Perkul

60 | AIR

32 | POLITICK By Alex Moore

66 | NO AGE 123 | REVIEWS

08

S NE OPVT//DOECCT 22000099 HHEELLLLOO

www.ray-ban.com

Style: RB 2140

MASTHEAD Editor Stephen Blackwell

Editor Alexander Moore

Managing Editor Creative Director Director of Photography Fashion Director Videographer

Isaac Lekach Joe Parlett Ray Lego Carmel Lobello Thomas De Napoli

Publisher Contributing Writers

Contributing Photographers

Doug Perkul Steve Basilone Tobias Carroll Danny Fasold Das Racist Drew Fortune Max Goldblatt Amber L. Herzog Gray Hurlburt Britt Julious Amelia Kreminski Jared McCarthy Kristopher Yodice Kareem Black Axel Dupuex Julia Galdo Tom Hines Silvana Lagos Christopher McLallen Drew Reynolds Matthew Salacuse Bryan Sheffield Elizabeth Weinberg Jonathan Willis

Photo Intern

Silvana Lagos

Copy Editor

Angie Hughes

Interns

Advertising

Chief Financial Officer Accounting Manager Death+Taxes Magazine 72 Spring Street, Ste. 304 New York, NY 10012 Ph: 212.274.8403 Fax: 212.925.3853

Gray Hurlburt Amelia Kreminski Doug Perkul P. 212.925.3853 E. doug@dt-mag.com Michael Labinksi Jeff Maurer Liquid Publishing 20855 NE 16th Ave, Ste. C16 Miami, FL 33179 Ph: 305.770.4488 Fax: 305.770.4489

All content Copyright 2009 Death & Taxes Magazine 2009 Liquid Publishing ISSN: 1930-3424 No part of Death & Taxes may be reproduced in any form by any means without written consent from Liquid Publishing, LLC

10

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 H E L L O RECYCLE !

www.ray-ban.com

Style: RB 4125

HELLO EDITORS' LETTER

This magazine is alive. The future is here.

(WE MEAN IT THIS TIME)

W

hen we founded Death+Taxes, we had a simple goal: to be the smartest, coolest music magazine in the world.

We knew there was an audience out there who wanted to dig deeper into music’s rich culture—the fans that wanted more than just blurbs and highlights.

We think of you guys as progressives; the musicsavvy intelligentsia who are tapped into the cultural current and keep it flowing.

We know what you’re thinking: “How can a print

12

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 H E L L O

publication, the oldest form of media, be progressive?”

Guess what? This issue is alive. For the first time, print media and new media have merged—not as a gimmick, but as a truly new experience.

And we did it by combining the best of the print world (gorgeous photos and great stories) with the immediacy of the digital world (music downloads, videos, sound clips, and so on). All of this is available to you right now, and all you need is a phone with a camera. We’re guessing you’re one of the nine hundred million people out there who owns one.

All of this issue’s additional content is just a text away, made possible through the wonder of visual matching

technology. It’s all about connection, so wherever you see these icons it means there is exclusive digital content waiting for you up in “the cloud” that can be sent directly to your phone. Just point, click and MMS text your photo to 66268. If you’d prefer to e-mail the photo, just send to dt@mobot.com.

It’s that easy.

We’re always trying to bring our magazine to life, so you can imagine how thrilled we were to partner up with Scion to create this issue. We say take your time and enjoy all the goodies this issue has to offer. It really is something special.

Thanks to the Artists This issue couldn’t have been possible without the participation of some truly amazing artists. A huge thanks to No Age for writing a song exclusively for this issue! Special thanks to Marnie Stern for coming to our office and shredding leads, which made for a unique, one-of-a-kind video.

Thanks to Owen, Air, Wild Beasts, and Jonathan Ames for sharing some life lessons with all of us, to The Lomographic Society for putting together “The Future Is” photo competition, and to Jay Reatard for letting us film his cover shoot. Thanks guys!

-The Editors

Don’t be a Luddite!

How To Use This Issue This is no ordinary magazine. Our partnership with Scion on this issue has allowed us to make a revolutionary, easy-to-use product. All you need to do is point, click, and enjoy. The following diagram will help you to use this issue’s technology. You can also watch a video of the issue in action at dt-mag.com.

2

1 Notice the icon on the page, grab your phone

3

Snap a pic of the entire page

4

Send the pic to Mobot at 66268 or dt@mobot.com

Get some stuff!

Go interact with these features...

The conversaTion conTinued: hear air Talk abouT love. Take a picTure of This page...

THE CONVERSATION CONTINUED. We AsKeD WilD beAsts WhAt WoulD hAppen if they mADe A movie. WAnt to heAr WhAt they sAiD? tAKe A piCture of this pAGe...

WANT TO WATCH A CLIP FROM SUFJAN’S NEW MOVIE? TAKE A PICTURE OF THIS PAGE...

THE CONVERSATION CONTINUED: MIKE KINSELLA TALKS PARENTHOOD. TAKE A PICTURE OF THIS PAGE...

But do you look back at the record and think it was ahead of its time?

JBD: I feel like it could have been better. really? JBD: It’s a broken album. Ng: It could have been the same

experimental thing but with a more stable structure.

BY ISAAC LEKACH • PHOTO BY DREW REYNOLDS

I

CAN’T IMAGINE MIKE KINSELLA

could have been any more candid if this interview was conducted as originally planned—drunk.

That’s what he proposed, anyway.

I intended to honor it, too, but having developed a miserable cough I opted instead for a juice made of beets, carrots and ginger.

“You did the opposite of getting really drunk,” he joked from his new home in Chicago. “It’s okay. I’m not drunk, either.

I forgot.”

Roughly twelve years before adopting the Owen moniker, Kinsella, now thirtytwo, started the highly influential Cap’n Jazz with his brother Tim, whom he continues to collaborate with, most notably in the band Joan of Arc. He has cultivated a legion of devotees through his many bands, but confesses to be most musically satisfied with Owen, “because that’s what comes out of my head.”

New Leaves is Owen’s fifth album and comes adorned, like the previous Owen records, with ornate, complex guitar arrangements—Kinsella’s veritable calling card. But as the title indicates, New Leaves marks a change. Kinsella recently became a father and the record finds him ruminating on what comes along with it.

On standout “Never Been Born” he sings, “It’s a young man’s game and about time I quit.” Don’t worry though, aforementioned fans—he assured me we shouldn’t interpret the lyric literally.

Were you given any advice that prepared you for parenthood? Not really. It’s insane

that they send you home after two nights in the hospital. When we were leaving the hospital—we had our little car seat and we were obviously very nervous and when we got to the doors it was raining outside and we were like, Um… can we get her wet? For like a minute? Every little thing you just question.

Apparently you’ve been playing for twenty years. Tweeennnnnnty? Well, yeah, if you

want to count my seventh grade band…

You went on to play in a bunch of other bands and have been doing Owen for some time now. What’s been the highlight? It was the most fun during Cap’n Jazz. Those were the first out-of-town shows. We got a van and we toured and we slept on people’s floors. We stayed in strangers’ houses and met girls. That was when it was all new and exciting.

Why is the new record called New Leaves?

The easiest reference would be that I’m an

You always ask audiences if there is anything they would like to talk about in between songs. In that spirit, is there something you want to talk about? There’s a lot of things

I’d like to talk about. I’m sort of torn about letting my baby cry it out. If I let her cry is that going to make her cry less and make

40

I N T E R AC TI V E CO N T E N T

her be less spoiled, or is that going to make her feel emotionally detached? I’m also wondering about countertops—if I should get a butcher countertop instead of a cheap laminate thing. If I cut chicken on it, will it store all the diseases in it? I’m wondering if I’d have to bleach that after every use.

MIKE KINSELLA’S PAST

owner of a new home. I’ve got a new baby.

A lot of shit is going on. It’s sort of a new beginning. But the song “New Leaves” was already written and it sort of seemed like the right first song and the right sentiment for the whole album.

F

True.

If you were on Inside The Actor’s Studio with James Lipton and he asked you what your favorite curse word is, what would you say?

I don’t have a favorite word, but for some reason I came up with this phrase—I was playing Halo with this kid and he got real mad at me, sort of unjustifiably. We were on a team and when we were done playing I left a message like, Hey dude these are the reasons why you’re wrong—why I actually helped the team and didn’t hurt the team.

Whatever. Nerd talk. And then the kid left a message and he was just like, U R gay.

And I wrote back, I’m gonna punch your asshole. So that might be my new favorite dirty thing to say—that I’m going to punch an asshole.

3. The One Up Downstairs Recommended

1. Cap’n Jazz Recommended Album:

Album: The One Up Downstairs EP

Analphabetapolothology

4. American Football Recommended

2. Joan of Arc Recommended Album: So

Album: American Football LP

Much Staying Alive and Lovelessness

5. Owls Recommended Album: Owls

about the era when there was a composer who was doing the whole soundtrack. Now it’s all about music supervisors. So we would like to do a classic score.

What’s the film? Ng: It’s a movie called Distant Neighborhood. It was

Because you ask yourself, “What is Love 1?” Or, “Why Love 2?” So the fact you ask yourself, “What is Love 1?” is a good sign.

MIKE KINSELLA with his dog Oscar A.K.A. Google Earth

By AmeliA KreminsKi • Photos By Christopher mClAllen

OR A MAN WHO HAS NEVER SHIED AWAY FROM GRAND AMBITION, Sufjan Stevens’s latest project,

The BQE, a cinematic suite inspired by the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, appears to have gotten the better of him—a project with a scope and feeling too large to fully capture. A sprawling undertaking, incorporating an orchestra of over thirty people, companion comic book, 16mm cinematography and choreographed Hula –Hoopers, the two-year endeavor is finally being released as a dual CD/DVD package on Asthmatic Kitty. Upon release, Stevens, the man who famously announced plans to release an album for each of the fifty states, is finally ready to take a step away from the epic and learn to appreciate the modest. Call it Stevens’s Apocalypse Now or Fitzcarraldo, the project may have been a vision impossible to realize, but the Detroit native is not beaten and, like his hometown, is slowly learning to rebuild from the ground up.

Speaking with Stevens from his home in Brooklyn, the boy who grew up playing too many instruments is enjoying some much-needed downtime. At an early age, Stevens had a voracious appetite for all things musical and, while self-taught, was composing sonatas on a toy Casio by age eight. By college, he had become proficient on the oboe, recorder, banjo, and guitar. The list goes on—even Stevens doesn’t know how many instruments he can play. Following the success of Come on Feel the Illinoise, a concept album devoted to the state of Illinois, Stevens ascended from underground folk oddity to a marquee name, a title that Stevens never dreamed or cared to achieve. Music is an adventure,

abstract, stereotypical condition of America as a “blank canvas.”

You choose your own adventure and create your own reality here.

And I don’t know how much of that is actual reality or how much of that is just part of our propagated heritage. Immigrants come here to sort of create a new life for themselves, and I think it’s even true of people born here. Even if you’re born here you have the sense that you can leave your hometown, escape the cultivated reality of your family, and create your own reality somewhere else. Because there’s enough space, there’s enough landscape, there’s enough room to choose your own adventure. I’ve always liked that. My family’s been really scrappy—we always figured it out and made our way through trials and tribulations. My parents were always industrious with whatever they could do to make ends meet. I think that’s sort of what I’m doing. I really don’t have any credentials at all. I have no authority in terms of music or songwriting or writing. And yet still, somehow, it’s like I’ve been able to figure it out and make it work.

Let’s talk about The BQE. The whole thing is a triptych? They were

just three simultaneous projects, which were all linked together.

They are choreographed and linked together. It’s mostly sixteenmillimeter film that we shot on a Bolex camera. It’s kind of an old

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt 49

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

48

n a pastoral January day twenty-three years ago, in a forgotten corner just outside of England’s Lake District, a boy named Hayden Thorpe was born with a curious ailment. The condition lurked within him, silently dormant until fifteen years later, when his schoolboy collaborations with guitarist Ben Little revealed Thorpe’s birthright, and his fate was sealed. He was a musician.

And he sang in falsetto.

“I think when you’re fifteen or sixteen—when I first started to sing in a falsetto voice—it’s almost like having an embarrassing ailment,” Thorpe mused on a blustering autumn morning in Brooklyn, the night after his Leeds-via-Kendal band Wild Beasts made their New York City debut. “It’s like, shit, this isn’t right.

I should be sounding husky, you know—especially at that age— you need aggression, you need some sort of tonic—you need someone to back you up, in a way. But the singing developed with the words, so the singing allowed the words to be, perhaps, even more aggressive and confrontational than if I did scream down the mic.”

Twenty years after his story began, in late November of 2006, Hayden Thorpe, along with fellow bandmates and Kendal natives Ben Little on guitar, Tom Fleming on bass, and Bert Talbot on drums, released their first single, “Brave Bulging Buoyant Clairvoyants.” The freewheeling, ramshackle pop debut showcases the operatic heights and guttural growls of Thorpe’s vocal lines, and introduced the deliciously twisted, weirdly

I’ve got a nerdy, journalistic question for you: While women are typical muses for artists, how did the American landscape become your muse? Well, that’s a good question. I don’t know if it’s the

Owen | pg.41

56

Somebody said the love of your life is not always the woman you have children with. So this is the idea that love can happen anytime. Not at the beginning.

I N T E R AC TI V E CO N T E N T

is this then the album you’re most passionate about? JBD: There is

O

something that can never be figured out or conquered, yet Stevens is the intrepid explorer, eager to reach the summit or die trying.

definitely a love story behind this album. The music is a reflection of a certain psychology and definitely we had some love issues and we needed this music do have been done in order to feel better. The music is the sound of our feelings. So this is a reflection of what is crossing our hearts.

fascinating quartet that is Wild Beasts. They set to work compiling their first album in what Thorpe has called a “huge Swedish pop factory,” and by midsummer of 2008 Limbo, Panto was released.

The early months of 2009 found the band recording again, this time in a secluded farmhouse deep in the English countryside. The winter was unusually cold and the four men spent all their time holed up inside, listening to Turkish psychedelia, recording and playing nonstop, and barely sleeping. By March of 2009 they had written, recorded, and co-produced their sophomore record, a haunting and mysterious creation entitled Two Dancers.

In early September, when fall was inching into New York, Wild Beasts sat down with Death+Taxes to discuss the new record over plates of burgers, bagels, and green eggs and ham. They’re a jovial group, quietly British, and incomparably earnest about their craft.

And though their humility is evident, they have the courage and creativity to maintain their unique grandiose style.

“We don’t try to please the middle ground,” said Thorpe. “We sort of have to exist in a speed-dating environment where you either like us or you don’t. And if you don’t that’s fine, but if you do, cool, let’s party. I think my favorite music is when you’ve got to sort of believe in it and give yourself to it to sort of let it work for you.”

And he’s a man who lives by his convictions. Stubbornly individualistic and perpetually intriguing, the sounds of Wild Beasts are not to be swayed or silenced by trends and fads—and neither is their signature falsetto. But Hayden Thorpe can’t help it.

That’s just how he was born.

Do you feel any resolution after making this record? JBD: Better. Ng:

adapted from a Japanese manga by Jiro Taniguchi. It’s a manga for adults. We both like the book a lot and they decided to make a movie on it and asked us to make the music. We are really big fans.

Taniguchi is a big star in France. The story is very emotional and we feel very close to what he tells in the story. We’ll be recording in October and then we’ll tour in November. i saw you play in Los angeles at the hollywood Bowl with the L.a. philharmonic. Ng: That was a high point. It’s hard to top that. We

played at the Sydney Opera house a year ago. That was the first time I felt near the Hollywood Bowl night. They gave me a bowl that says Hollywood Bowl on it. It’s in my kitchen. Each time I make a salad I use it.

You’ve made records consistently since the beginning. Do you have other interests aside from making music? JBD: Basically, we try to

make as much music as we can, but sometimes there are other issues to take care of. When you work all day long there is always a moment when you are disturbed by your phone or answer emails—so we play music in the holes of that.

Rain Men

But do you have other hobbies? JBD: Oh yeah. Doing some sport

to have a cool, nice-looking body. [Laughs] And taking care of the children, which can take you a lot of time. Traveling. Going on holiday and traveling far away. We both often go to Corsica. Corsica is an island in the south of France. It’s really wild, but it has nothing going on there. It’s really, really beautiful.

By Stephen Blackwell • Photos By kareem Black

I

i didn’t know you have families. Ng: We have sort of.

only Joey [Waronker] and us. We were nostalgic about being together like we used to when we started. Moon Safari launched us and we met all these people during our travels. Many musicians were playing with us and now I wanted to feel the feeling again of when it was just the two of us. It was a very charming time and I miss that time. is that why you didn’t have any guest vocalists on this record? Ng: We

were fed up with having a bunch of people.

sort of? children scattered all over the world? Ng: We have children.

That makes families. But we don’t have a family lifestyle. But in France it’s common to have children because it’s free. free? Ng: It’s free—you don’t pay for university. [Laughs] Looking back on your career, is there something you would have done differently? Ng: I think the reason why you make a new record is

because you wish you could have done something differently in the past. So as long as you have regrets you will have a career.

Jarvis has too much of an attitude? [JBD laughs] Ng: No, I fucking

love Jarvis.

Lastly, people must tell you they make love to your music all the time.

Ng: Quite often.

i was kidding…Ng: We’d like to work with him again, but for this

message & Data rates may apply. text help for help, stop to stop. Carriers: Alltel, At&t, Cricket, sprint, verizon. t/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

album we wanted it to be just us.

is that the ultimate compliment? JBD: That’s the best compliment because that means that our music is the music of caress. Ng: But

and you didn’t work with a producer? Ng: Yeah. We are reborn. You

me, I couldn’t do it—I’d get so distracted.

Message & Data rates may apply. Text heLp for help, sTop to stop. carriers: alltel, aT&T, cricket, sprint, Verizon. T/c’s at www.mobot.com/dt

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

64

Wild Beasts | pg.57

I N T E R AC TI V E CO N T E N T

n January of 2008, five months before the release of Nouns, I visited No Age in Los Angeles to interview them for the cover of this magazine. I could hear Dean Spunt bashing away on the drums as I rode the freight elevator up to their practice space, a tiny room nestled in the corner of a large warehouse that was built in a part of town epitomizing the other side of the tracks—twenty feet from them, actually. After our introductions the conversation jumped from the salient issue of the day—Heath Ledger had been found dead a few hours before our interview—to punk music, their band, and what exactly these young men made of the buzz circling No Age like a great white.

No Age had signed to Sub Pop in 2007, being the ostensibly committed torchbearers of a lo-fi trend sweeping through indie music after years of big production and inclusion in movie sound tracks, car commercials, and so forth. Could something refreshing happen? The people who thought so were already fans of No Age, and those who didn’t just hadn’t seen the band live or picked up Weirdo Rippers, a collage of dissonance, drones, feedback, and punk rhythms the band had

Recovering.

You guys have had a tremendous cast of people who have contributed to your records. Who contributed to this one? Ng: On this new record is

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

Sufjan Stevens | pg.49

Moon Safari created a ton of awareness, but your score for sofia coppola’s The Virgin Suicides is what a bunch of my younger friends cite as their first exposure to air. Will you be contributing to her new film? Ng: No. We’re working on another movie. I’m really nostalgic

it doesn’t work and it becomes instrumental. When there is a little possibility of doing some singing on it we do it. Ng: The music is the leader. The music tells us if it’s a song or an instrumental. We don’t decide, really. We find the tune on the piano or something and the tune is the bus and we’re just there to bring what the tune needs.

That’s the freedom. If you have a band you can’t say to the bass player, Ok on this song you don’t play. Otherwise, there is big drama. We don’t care. We have no duties. We are completely pressure free.

affixing the numerical value definitely makes you think it’s a sequel to something. so in your mind, what is the precursor—What is Love 1? JBD:

East is Beast

BY DREW FORTUNE • PHOTOS BY DENNY RENSHAW

I also noticed you have an affinity for cursing.

have reborn Christians here and we are reborn musicians.

Talkie Walkie is very song oriented while Pocket Symphony and even Love 2 have more instrumental tracks. in terms of composing the music, whether it’s an instrumental track or one with vocals, is the process the same? JBD: Basically we always try to do songs, but sometimes

Let’s talk about Love 2. first of all, why is it called that? Ng: [Laughs] I don’t know. JBD: Because it creates a good impact on your mind.

Life Is A Highway: The indie wunderkind turns multimedia artist with the release of The BQE.

How should we interpret the line “It’s a young man’s game and about time I quit”?

I don’t know. Not that I’m going to quit writing songs—I’m trying to schedule some shows, but the way I’ve been a musician for the past decade has to change now that I’m a dad.

Want to hEar an ExcLusivE, unrELEasED song from no agE caLLED “in PEriL”? take a picture of thiS page ... text the pic to Mobot at 66268 oR eMail it to Dt@Mobot.coM

text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or eMail it to dt@Mobot.coM

text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or eMail it to dt@Mobot.coM

TEXT THE PIC TO MOBOT AT 66268 OR EMAIL IT TO DT@MOBOT.COM

TEXT THE PIC TO MOBOT AT 66268 OR EMAIL IT TO DT@MOBOT.COM

Turning Over A New Leave

from LEft to right Dean Spunt, Randy Randall

message & Data rates may apply. text help for help, Stop to stop. carriers: alltel, at&t, cricket, Sprint, Verizon. t/c’s at www.mobot.com/dt

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

66

65

pieced together since their humble beginnings.

Flashing forward to July of 2009, when I’m set to interview them again, No Age is one of the most talked about indie bands in the world. They have the rare gift of connecting with the kids while their act seems otherworldly. They’re performing at the Pool Parties in Brooklyn, a popular indie concert series situated on Williamsburg’s waterfront. Despite the pouring rain that will eventually move the show indoors, the audience politely soaks, waiting in line.

I meet up with guitarist Randy Randall and we agree the day’s schedule has been deep-sixed by the weather, so we’ll catch up over phone sometime next week. A few days later he dislocated his shoulder and performed at Lollapalooza sitting in a chair. I felt bad calling him. But when I did, it was cute. Randall’s cell phone speaker was busted, so he and Spunt had to hand the phone back and forth whenever the other wanted to speak. It reminded me of being a kid on vacation with my dad—whenever I would call my mom she’d always say, “Wait, wait, hold on a second—your grandma wants to talk to you.”

Air | pg.65

No Age | pg.67

REVIEWS MUSIC

The

H A MMER OF T HE G ODS WANT TO SEE SOMETHING REATARDED? Take a picTure of This page ... text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or eMail it to dt@Mobot.coM

Message & Data rates may apply. Text heLp for help, sTop to stop. carriers: alltel, aT&T, cricket, sprint, Verizon. T/c’s at www.mobot.com/dt

tipped the bartender. “That guy fucking hooked us up, man—what the fuck,” Jay implores me, as we all walk back to his house. I think maybe he’s kidding, but he’s most assuredly not. Billy intercedes on my behalf with a noncommittal, “Aw, come on…” The conversation drifts elsewhere but doesn’t really get back on track until we stop by a convenience store next to Jay’s house. “It’s cool,” he offers by way of absolution, “you can buy the next case of beer.” I do, and all is right in the world once more.

Jay’s new house is like a teenager’s dream clubhouse come true.

Sure he’s just moved in, but it’s rife with a chaos one suspects won’t change an iota no matter how long he lives here. There are clothes on the floor, guitars, ashtrays, and mountains of vinyl records in disarray, which spin on the record player constantly. On the mantle in his living room is a big pile of wadded-up cash, a biography of Adolph Hitler (“A joke,” he assures me, and he means it), and a skull that he’s pretty sure belonged to a dog. “This is disgusting—I gotta get rid of this,” he says, laughing. The skull was a gift from a girl he met at a local metal show. “There was this Mexican black metal band—they had all these skulls and actual animal parts. The best part was, after the show they wheeled off the animal parts and barbequed that shit in their backyard.”

As the evening wears on, more of his friends drift over and everyone gets more inebriated. Jay tells me there’s a guy down the block who sells whip-hits, in case that’s my thing. Someone has dragged the cardboard box that Jay’s new refrigerator came in onto the kitchen floor, and as hip-hop records spin we try our best break-dancing moves. I try a head-spin. At some point, looking to re-enact the chair-fighting scene from Gummo, Jay drags a white plastic chair into the kitchen and starts beating the shit out it, to high hilarity. Someone starts smashing it with a monkey wrench and Jay, going for the mother of all chair-fighting moves, climbs on top of his refrigerator, and like a pro wrestler lunging from the top rope, jumps off and body-slams the chair, smashing it.

It’s all in good fun until five minutes later, when shouts from the back yard reveal that one of the girls has dragged the chair just outside the house and managed, along with some miscellaneous debris, to set it on fire. It’s a brief but huge, dirty fire of burning plastic that we all manage to stomp out quickly, but not without fusing melted chair permanently to our sneakers. Jay is proud of his house—which he bought outright, with a single cashier’s check— and protective of his property. He’s pissed about the fire, and gives the girl a talking to, but he doesn’t stay mad long. “I told her I was gonna rip her fake fucking tits out,” he tells me, laughing.

Most of the friends who hang out at Reatard’s house are significantly younger than he is. “Maybe I’m immature,” he offers.

“Maybe I like hanging out with twenty year-old kids that like to have fun and play great music. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. It beats the hell out of hanging out with most people my age, who are just worried about typing on their fucking Dell and collecting their four hundred bucks a week or whatever they make at their job. That’s fair enough—they’re just trying to get by, too. But I don’t think those people understand me.”

Close to dawn I find my way back to my hotel to prep for the next day’s photo shoot. When we finally do connect the next day it’s around four p.m., and Jay is exhausted. After I left he found an all-night bar and stayed out until ten a.m. When photographer Ray Lego and I get to his house around five, we find Jay feeling lethargic and subdued. There are empty beers and discarded jeans on the floor, and the needle bumps at the end of a record that has finished playing but has sat spinning idly for hours. Jay revs himself up enough to come to life for our shoot, and, knees bouncing, insists on playing us one more track from a metal band he used to play with before we head out.

But his mood stays relatively somber throughout the day. Posing stoically in front of the Mississippi river for the camera, he offers out of nowhere, “This is a dead guy’s shirt.” “What?” I ask, not sure if I’ve heard him correctly. He tells me he found his house through someone his father knew—someone had died, and when Jay moved in there were still some items in the house. He found this tuxedo T-shirt, and liked it, so he kept it.

Reatard seems oddly both more sclerotic and more sensitive about death than most, possibly because he’s seen more of it than many people his age, and the subject comes up a few times throughout the day. He’s clearly upset over the recent loss of a friend who died of cancer, whose funeral he wanted to pay for, but who passed before Reatard could get the money to him. On the other hand, when DJ AM, ex-boyfriend of Mandy Moore, was recently found dead with an Adderall pill stuck to his tongue, Reatard’s reaction was to prank Ryan Adams, Moore’s current husband and his friend, by emailing a photo of himself playing dead, complete with a dummy pill stuck to his dangling tongue.

“I lIke sImple musIc. A lot of people sAy, ‘you do thAt becAuse you’re dumb.’ but It’s A choIce. I’m tryIng to wrIte somethIng thAt you cAn ImmedIAtely decIde whether you lIke or not.”

But it’s the paradox of juxtaposing forces that makes Reatard’s work as an artist so interesting. That evening finds us back at the house where he recorded Watch Me Fall, which is mostly boxed up, closing out a phase in his life. “The whole ‘watch me fall’ thing is sarcastic in a sense that it’s the first record I’ve made that felt therapeutic,” he explains. He tells me he got sober for ten months working on the record. “It sounds cheesy, but I feel this record literally saved my life.”

Going sober for ten months was a risky personal move, one that completely upended his social life. “You find out who your real friends are,” he says. “Almost everyone disappeared on me. So I’ve befriended new people. The people I hang out with now I haven’t known for a super long time, but I feel that they’re less judgmental than some of the other people I was hanging out with. You surround yourself with people you like, and I don’t like a lot of people.”

We wrap up our evening and Ray and I give Jay a ride to the bar where he left his car, the band van, four days ago—at least he hopes like hell that’s where it is, otherwise he’s got no idea where it could be. He’s got more friends to meet (promises to keep, and miles to go before he sleeps, and all that) and on the way out we talk about what he hopes people will get out of his music. “I want to make records that for thirty-five minutes make people feel good. No big goal other than that.” And then, stoking those contradictions he relishes, adds coyly that he wouldn’t mind challenging listeners, too. “If I can’t make people think by playing too many notes, maybe I can confuse them by writing a pop song about killing yourself.”

As I’ve learned by now, he’s kidding. Kind of. The one thing I’m sure of is that Jay Reatard has got energy to burn. He’s got more love for his music than he can contain, and it doesn’t seem like his prolific streak is going to slow down anytime soon. He’s got a new house and studio to set up, new neighbors to charm and new cops to befriend. Jay Reatard is a man on a mission, and he’s just getting started.

Jay Reatard | pg.80

WANT TO WATCH MARNIE STERN SHRED A WICKED LEAD? take a picture of tHiS page ...

Marnie Stern

two friends and, you know, I took the premise [of the story] and then I went somewhere else. A few months later we went to HBO, in September of 2007 and I pitched it and they said they wanted to do it, almost immediately.

text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or eMail it to dt@Mobot.coM

By StepHen BLackWeLl | Photo By eLizaBetH WeinBerg

How old were you when you started playing guitar? Fifteen.

I took three lessons, and then I just strummed a little. But when I was twenty I started taking it seriously again.

What do you mean by “seriously”? Well I finished college a year early, and I thought you had to do something respectable for a living. I didn’t know you were really allowed to do whatever you wanted. And I had always wanted to do music, so I just started doing it.

starting, and maybe All Music Guide was just starting, and it would say, “If you like this, listen to this.” And someone said, “Oh, there’s a band called Sleater Kinney,” and I thought they were really underground.

[Laughs] So for years I was in the very popular indie rock world. And then I just kept playing and playing and playing, and I would go to all the different labels and listen to all the different stuff—it was a lot of research until I found the weirder stuff. And then I got hooked on that stuff for a long time.

What did you do in college?

Journalism. I was very bad at it.

Did you play through college, too? No. And journalism—I

liked reading all different papers every day, but that was all I liked.

What were some of the records that got you into guitar playing?

Well, growing up, my family played classic rock—so a lot of Bruce Springsteen and the Who and the Allman Brothers.

And I had no taste in music. I had no clue, I had no idea—I just listened to the radio. And so then I knew, obviously, that there was good stuff out there, and the Internet was just

96

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9

What was some of the weirder stuff? Boredoms, Ruins,

Deerhoof, Hella, Lightning Bolt.

Hella and Lightning Bolt have a lot of wild guitar work—is that what got you into trying to make songs based around lead riffs? It was always,

Make a song. That’s the only way I could practice or else I would get too bored. That’s why I never learned anyone else’s stuff, because it was too boring. Even with the “Eruption” thing [We asked Marnie to play Van Halen’s “Eruption” at the office—she blew it]. But I always wanted to make songs. Even when I was fifteen or twenty when I was just messing around, that was the whole idea. But when you sit every day and you’re playing

What was the moment you discovered tapping? It wasn’t

a moment. I didn’t even know that’s what it was called. I didn’t listen to Van Halen.

I think that’s why it ended up being so weird, because it wasn’t like I knew what it was. I was listening to Don Caballero, and I just wanted to know what it was. And because of math rock I didn’t understand that it was tapping because I thought of it in a different way. Plus I have no proper history of music, and I didn’t know the evolution and how it had gone from this to this to this. I saw a video in some club, and Don Cab was over there and I couldn’t see what [guitarist] Ian Williams was doing, I just saw both hands were like this. [Mimes her hands around a guitar neck] And I was like, Both hands?

And that’s how I started doing it. But I didn’t know it was tapping. I was not doing it in that way—I was doing it in a percussive way, like Kaki King does it. Like, Down here, up here, boom boom boom—just messing around.

Oy. But there was enough of a deal in place, a handshake. When the strike ended I wrote the pilot.

You’ve written that you like putting yourself in uncomfortable situations and milking it. Have things ever gone too far that you don’t write about it? It seems that you don’t censor yourself all that much, at least as I perceive it. Life is so huge. I maybe report on,

What I like is that the premise of the show serves as a nice jumpingoff point for extracting things from your universe. As a fan of yours, to be watching an episode and see a transexual prostitute or the characters getting colonics— Or he says the title of one of my books.

like, one per cent of my life and then even that is distorted and full of lies because of the nature of language. Also, at some point, one’s behaviors become repetitive, you know, and maybe I got tired of paying attention? But I’ve put down a fair amount of life over eight books, but that really just sort of scratches the surface.

I sprinkled in a lot of, you know, I stole lines here and there. Cause it’s also—he’s sort of playing me, so it’s an interesting collage.

I N T E R AC TI V E CO N T E N T

your instrument, you want to get good at it. And I started hearing these bands where the players were so good.

Future

In the new collection, the story “Bored to Death” isn’t in the short story section and it isn’t in the personal essays, either. So did you put a detective ad on Craigslist in real life? No, but I thought of doing it. You know, I was fantasizing about being a private detective and rather than actually doing it I wrote a story about it.

Great! Then the writer’s strike happened like a week or two weeks

later.

For Those AbouT To rock, she sAluTes You

Guitar’s reigning queen, Marnie Stern, came down to the Death+Taxes office to shred some leads (for your listening pleasure) drink some coffee, and school us on guitar acrobatics done right

When you started being heralded as a virtuoso guitar player, a lot of hardcore metal fans said people only liked you because you’re a girl. How do you feel about that? That

Was you playing yourself ever an option? I’ve seen that Showtime pilot you starred in as yourself— You actually saw it?

Yeah! That one time it was on I Tivo’d it. Dude! You’re one of the few

human beings!

was very difficult. Like, She can’t fucking play, she can’t shred. That’s another problem.

Where do you go but down from there, you know? I don’t come from the metal world— that’s not my family. I’m two generations after people who listened to metal. I try to write good songs. I figure the better you are at whatever you play the better your songs will be.

And maybe that’s not always true, but that’s all I really care about, is writing a good song. The Boss is a good guitar player, but it’s all about his songs, and that’s the way I wish it was. Maybe I need to write better songs. [Laughs]

I loved it! Really?

If that had been picked up, that would have been one way of doing a Jonathan Ames TV show. Was the concept of you playing you in Bored To Death talked about? I think it was briefly on the table, but I think early on they wanted to go younger. And I met Jason and he’s incredible, and as soon as I met him I wanted him for this.

I just thought he would do a better job playing me than me. But he’s also not me; it’s the character. He brings his own personality into it. You know, all the male characters are a little bit versions of me. That’s probably why I kept the name my name. But I’m really content that it’s not me.

Will you appear on the show? I’m not in the first season. I really

don’t want to jinx things. I’m also juggling so much with the show: writing, executive producing, editing, being on the set, that to add the “fail or succeed” pressure of acting—I’m already on the edge of constant failure or success.

You were on the set every day? I was like the co-director of every

episode.

Do metal kids show up at your shows? No, I get noise kids

Was that exciting for you? A lot of it was fun. We’d pull off a great shot or something would work well. There’s a lot of stress and pressure… stressure? So it was more like, I don’t know, being a soldier. A creative soldier.

who think it’s going to sound like Hella, and then they’re like, This fucking sucks. And then I get a lot of blog people who think that it’s good because they’re told it’s good, but then they hear it and they don’t get it. Then I get a lot of girl power, which is good. And then dudes who are like, Show me your tits! Tons of that.

Is Ted Danson’s character an amalgamation of people you’ve written for or worked for in the past with your neuroses thrown on top? I’d

say his archetype, for me, was old New York literary lion publishing world, so George Plympton very much came to mind. The name [George Christopher] is sort of a fusion of George Plympton and Christopher Hitchens. So I just wanted someone who was just an outrageous New York literary figure. So, his outer shape, his architecture, his building, would be iconic New York literary manabout-town and then a lot of his brain is just me talking about the things that I care about. I love his performance.

The conversaTion conTinued: hear JonaThan aMes TaLK aBouT The LiTerarY LiFe. TAke A pICTure Of THIS pAGe ... text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or eMail it to dt@Mobot.coM

Message & Data rates may apply. text HeLp for help, Stop to stop. carriers: alltel, at&t, cricket, Sprint, Verizon. t/c’s at www.mobot.com/dt

Marnie Stern | pg.97

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HeLp for help, STOp to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

[ According to you ]

CheCk out a Clip oF eaCh oF theSe SongS right now! juSt take a piCture oF the album Cover...

Crowded • AhmAd PrAkAr BandunG • IndonesIa • HolGa CFn

text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or eMail it to dt@Mobot.coM

YoU REVIEW

A phoTogrAphy ConTEST WiTh the lomographic society CurATEd By ray lego

Go ahead, say it to my interface ...

I N T E R AC TI V E CO N T E N T

no Computer in Sight? Don’t Sweat it! You can hear these songs right now. For each of the albums below, take a picture of the album cover using your cell phone (just the cover—not the whole page), and send it in to us; you’ll begin downloading thirty seconds of the album’s featured song immediately. and there’s more: We want you to review them for us, too. text us back your rating of each track (on a scale of 1-5). We’ll compile your reviews and post the results in our next issue.

The line between fiction and nonfiction blurs in your work. And I guess the nature of a double life is that the two lives can begin to blend together and overlap. That could be one of the elements of

a double life. I’m glad that you appreciate that. I mean… I’m not some smart writer who figures anything out. I’m just working from my own tortured little mortal psyche. But this friend of mine, the writer Tom Beller, said a funny and nice thing to me. He said, “Ames, your work has come to exist in the ‘taint between nonfiction and fiction.” [Laughter] And I was just like, Perfect. I guess I thought of the vagina and the anus, and I’m in there. Or I guess it could be the cock and the anus and I’m between! It was very apt.

Why? “this blackest purse” from the album Eskimo Snow on anticon records

Califone

And the title of the book, The Double Life Is Twice As Good? I feel

All My Friends Are Funeral Singers Dead Oceans

like we lead more than double lives. I wrote that initially one night as a way to deal with shame. I was just mortified or trying to accept myself, or I was trying to move out of mortification into selfacceptance, and I was like, All right, what’s a positive spin on this thing? And it was three or four a.m., and I was writing on a yellow pad and I wrote, “Well, the double life is twice as good.” I lead this life which nobody knows about, full of shame or secrets and then this other life, that we let people in on, or not. I don’t know. So it’s not quite tongue in cheek. It’s an attempt at self-acceptance.

+++

Amazing Baby Rewild Shangri La

And how goes the journey towards self-acceptance? Um, well,

that’s a lifelong journey. And then right when you get it you die. Or something terrible like that. And pay taxes, right? Death and taxes.

But… I don’t know, I mean, I guess I do move past things better.

And I’m able to pay the rent better. I don’t know why. But I may just be setting myself up for one more crippling, self-destructive blow in some weird chess match against oneself. Or not. I’m not doing great or anything, but I’ve gotten older and maybe as you get older you become less hysterical? But certainly I’ve known people in their forties and fifties who have breakdowns, so I could be headed for that.

I do feel a little bit less hysterical, not any less pathetic though. I mean, there’s a lot going on with the TV show, but it doesn’t really penetrate me, you know what I mean? I don’t feel really good about any of it. I don’t feel bad about it. There’s a slight element of not feeling deserving but, at the same time, I’ve already moved on. I think it was John Steinbeck who said once he finishes a book he puts it on a shelf and it’s like he never even wrote it. So I sort of feel that way with the show. I don’t mean to sound portentous or pretentious. I‘m a little bit low these days but, you know, I do love being near the water. It’s really nice right here.

111

Jonathan Ames | pg.110

Few things (apart from new, blaringly white sneakers) necessitate a good mussing up, so why must bands so often adulterate perfectly good songs with dumb sound bytes? “Funeral Singers” and “Krill” fall victim to the ruse, yet persist as the best of Califone’s artfully disheveled sixth LP. Shrill guitars, shooting skyward like magic beanstalks, contribute to a ritualistic, enchanted forest feel, and fizzy “Ape-Like” and “Salt,” peeking through a patchy canopy like sunbeams, divert the disc from turning into a strictly black-attired affair. – Amber L. Herzog

++++

On first impression, Amazing Baby’s full-length debut might sound crass and substance-less, what with lines like, “and I can’t say another word except to say I’m sorry to you, baby” and, “she protects her animals, we are starving cannibals,” all hand delivered with standard rock fare. But once you peel this surface layer away, you’ll realize how good this band really is.

Start to finish, these songs are highoctane, kaleidoscopic anthems made for stadiums, all covered in big burbly bubbles. I daresay Amazing Baby seems more content to have a good time than to actually blow your mind. In “Kankra,” they say it best themselves: “We wrote the songs for fun, we are the moving sun.” Orbit away, fellas.

– Danny Fasold

driving in outer SpaCe • PeI-y u lIn • TaInan,TaIwan • lomoGr aPH y ColorsPl asH Camer a

Don’t get us wrong—Digital cameras are great. But sometimes those crisp, clear digital images just start looking sterile, vacuous and soulless. We don’t know about you, but that’s not how we want to see the future. When we asked people to imagine the future in photos, we knew the images had to be striking, dynamic, and—hey, we’re talking about the future here—a little bit twisted.

Teaming up with the Lomographic Society was a no brainer.

Lomography cameras are synonymous with the cult of analog film. We asked the cult to snap a photo of what they thought the future looked like. Culled from thousands of submissions worldwide, we’ve narrowed it down to ten images. Each winner

112

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9

will receive a dianaF+ Black Jack, and the grand prize winner will get an LC-A+ camera. who will win? which image best demonstrates the future? that’s up to you. snap a picture of your favorite image in this feature with your camera phone and send it in. we’ll be waiting.

so which photo Best preDicts the future? you DeciDe! Vote By TAking A PiCTurE Of yOur fAVOriTE iMAgE in THiS SECTiOn...

TExT ThE piC To MoBoT AT 66268 or EMAiL iT To dT@MoBoT.CoM

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

113

Lomography | pg.112

124

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 R E V I E W S

Various Ciao My Shining Star: The Songs of Mark Mulcahy Shout Factory

+++

Mark Mulcahy is a criminally underrated songwriter whose work ranges from his stint as the front man of Miracle Legion to his time in Polaris, to his solo material, to the resident house-band for beloved children’s television show The Adventures of Pete and Pete. Ciao My Shining Star is an upsetting premise: a means of helping Mulcahy continue to make music and raise his daughters after the sudden death of his wife. Twenty-one artists such as Thom Yorke, Michael Stipe, and Dinosaur Jr. cover Mulcahy’s work, mostly to success.

Strong points include Autumn Defense on “Paradise” and album opener, Thom Yorke’s “All for the Best.” Although the story behind the album is tragic, the compilation is a fitting testament to Mulcahy’s career. - Britt Julious

El Perro del Mar Love is Not Pop The Control Group

+++

Sarah Assbring, otherwise known as El Perro del Mar, has entered the new millennium, musically speaking. Her latest album, Love is Not Pop, sounds at home among her peers with a heavy dose of synths. Unfortunately, that is the problem—there is no way to distinguish the singer. As a result, songs that should sound charming and light like “L is for Love” and “Change of Heart” sound listless.

El Perro del Mar and From the Valley to the Stars were enigmatic due in large part to a re-appropriation of ‘60s girl group aesthetics.

Love is Not Pop is a step in a new direction, though not necessarily a good one.

- Britt Julious

Cincinnati juggernaut Why? released a record last year called Alopecia that everyone went gaga over.

Rightfully so: The band’s ethereal pop calls to mind everyone from The Flaming Lips to Menomena. Check out what Why? Are up to now.

Pains of Being Pure At Heart “higher than the Stars” off of the Higher Than The Stars ep on Slumberland Pains of Being Pure at Heart set the indie world on fire earlier this year with their self-titled debut, which featured ten tracks of sugary hooks and lush production. The New York-based band are back with a follow-up EP. Check out “Higher Than The Stars” now!

Neon Indian “terminally Chill” off the album Psychic Chasms on lefse records Typically cast as spawn of MGMT, Neon Indian are stepping out with their debut full length, Psychic Chasms. The music’s plenty trippy, but leaves ample room for melodies you’ll find yourself humming first thing in the morning.

Real Estate “beach Comber” From their self-titled album on woodsist records New Jersey’s Real Estate are proof that less is more. Jangly guitars, steady drums, buoyant vocals—what more do you need to craft perfect pop songs?

Nothing! These guys should know, too. Singer Martin Courtney used to be in a Weezer cover band.

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

125

You Review | pg.125

Terms and Conditions: Message and Data Rates May Apply. Txt HELP for help, STOP to quit to 66268. All audio and video sample clips are the property of the artist. Mobot visual image search service is available on Alltel, AT&T Wireless, Sprint, Verizon Wireless. This is not a subscription or alert service. No premium content is available. Users without MMS service can send pics to dt@mobot.com.

13

HELLO CONTRIBUTORS

Axel Dupeux

Bryan Sheffield

Drew Fortune

Dupeux was born and raised in Paris, France.

He relocated permanently to New York in 2008 and now lives in Brooklyn with his wife Deana.

His work focuses mainly on portraiture, and he also recently started a long-term personal project about the human infrastructures made to deal with groups, such as slaughterhouses, schools and funeral homes. His work can be viewed at: www.axeldupeux.com and on his blog at http:// axeldupeux.wordpress.com/

Bryan Sheffield is a portrait photographer living in Los Angeles, CA. He loves espresso, and is tall and happy. For this issue Sheffield shot writer Jonathan Ames. Sheffield says about Ames, “Jonathan was a blast! He was friendly, easy to work with, and did whatever I asked and more! He didn’t have a silly publicist around looking at the back of my camera either! I want to be friends with him.”

A graduate of DePaul University, Drew lives and writes in Chicago, IL. He is the Live Events editor for popmatters.com and contributes to numerous publications about music, film and pop culture. A lifelong Midwestern native, Drew interviewed Sufjan Stevens for this issue. When he’s not causing trouble around Chicago, Drew can usually be found looking for good fly fishing rivers across the country. He steadfastly believes Goodfellas is the best movie ever made.

Dustin McSwane

Silvana Lagos

Jonathan Robert Willis

Dustin McSwane is a stylist and designer based in Brooklyn, NY. He studied fashion design and tailoring at FIT. While still a student, he assisted such talents as Christina Chin and Karina Givargisoff. Since then he has established himself as a freelance stylist for magazines and photographers, most recently styling a feature editorial for Celeste magazine and the fashion editorial with YACHT for this issue. His current obsessions are glass wrapped in vinyl, the Sahara, wide brimmed hats, 1930s America through the lens of 1970s Paris, Crocs, and reading biographies. His affinity for bracelets has caused him countless delays at airports.

Silvana is obsessed with horoscopes, skulls, shoes and any camera... She loves the smell of film processing chemicals, peonies and pink roses and lavender, prefers the sound of vinyl... She wishes to be as talented as Frida... She sings like a dying cat and dances like a hampster.

Jonathan Robert Willis lives in a small town in Kentucky just outside of Cincinnati. He began working as a freelance photographer directly out of college. For the past five years he has worked with major record labels, magazines, and advertising campaigns. His wife and three young kids keep him super busy outside of the studio; he has a mild addiction to coffee and a more serious addition to racquetball.

14

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 H E L L O

Shock-Resistant

And

B o l d.

www.gshock.com ©2009 CASIO AMERICA, INC.

HELLO EVENTS

1

2

Wavves

Events

3

Black Lips

4

5

Death+Taxes out on the town at FYF Fest, Brooklyn Electronic Music Fest, Colt 45 & D+T Present: Das Racist It was a busy, rainy summer at D+T, but we made the most of it. On August 30, Colt 45 and D+T presented a free party with Das Racist and Cerebral Ballzy at Public Assembly in Brooklyn. D+T was a proud media sponsor for the second annual Brooklyn Electronic Music Festival on August 8. And we partied down at FYF Fest in Los Angeles, September 5.

No Age

6

7

1-4: FYF Fest 5-8: Colt 45 & D+T Presents‌ 9-11: Brooklyn Electronic Music Festival

8

10

9

16

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 H E L L O

11

Discover the legend of the Zodiac race at onitsukatiger.com

The Wheel of

D+T's guide to cultural highs and lows

Disclaimer: Sure, the Wheel was funnier before the global collapse, but we're keeping it, because, what the hell—we were here first.

Inglourious Basterds Who would have thought a Nazi flick could be the feel-good movie of the year?

S

N

K

O

T

S

U

N

K

O

C

T

U

C

www.lookatthisfuckinigteabagger. tumblr.com Amazing.

Jay-Z and Beyonce watch Grizzly Bear at Pool Parties

Community Joel McHale graduates from The Soup and Chevy Chase returns.

White Southern Lawmakers Clearly Disliking Obama Because He’s Black Way to give the country a good image, guys.

Ted Kennedy Passes No more brothers. Sad.

Iran Now Capable of Producing a Nuclear Weapon For some strange reason we just don’t believe it this time around…

TOTAL SUCK

Obama Flounders As Bananarama once sang, it’s a cruel, cruel summer.

Joe Wilson yells “You lie!”

Where’s a tazer when you need one?

Levi Johnston To Pose Nude Who are we kidding—we’d love to see this kid’s cock.

Jay Reatard Plays All Free Indie-Record Store Tour You should ask him how the Hot Topic show went someday.

FYF Fest Grows Up For the benefit of California parks, no less.

O

T

S

U

C

K

Steve Jobs Returns With a new liver And is better than ever. We figure he’s good for at least another hundred years.

N

U

C

K

Television: New Mad Men, It’s Always Sunny, and Curb

N

O

T

S

They Don 't Suck: Saxon Shore Saxon Shore is an instrumental band named after forts built during the reign of the Roman Empire. Fun fact #1: Fleet Foxes’ drummer J. Tillman was a founding member. Now a four piece with members living in Brooklyn, Philadelphia and Baltimore, the band recently released their fourth full length, It Doesn’t Matter, which marks their second collaboration with renowned producer Dave Fridmann (Flaming Lips, MGMT). Fun Fact #2: Caroline Lufkin from Mice Parade contributes vocals on the album highlight “This Place.” It Doesn’t Matter will take you places. Pack headphones. –Isaac Lekach

18

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 H E L L O

“Sleeker, smoother, and more satisfying 3D fighter than we’ve seen in years.”

– GAMEPRO

“2009 is the year of Tekken!”

- GAMEPRO

Alcohol Reference Crude Humor Mild Language Suggestive Themes Violence

TEKKEN®6 & ©1994-2009 NAMCO BANDAI Games Inc. All rights reserved. NAMCO BANDAI games logo is a registered trademark of NAMCO BANDAI. “PlayStation” and the “PS” Family logo are registered trademarks of Sony Computer Entertainment Inc. The PlayStation Network Logo is a service mark of Sony Computer Entertainment Inc. Microsoft, Xbox, Xbox 360, Xbox LIVE, and the Xbox logos are trademarks of the Microsoft group of companies and are used under license from Microsoft. All other trademarks and trade names are the property of their respective owners.

The Latest pop life: The new retail | The death of books | Digitalism | Politick: everyone’s dumb | Eats

New York, I Love You Cinema’s Obsession with New York Continues New York, I Love You is a collective feature film—think of it as New York’s answer to 2008’s Paris, Je’ Taime.

The film, though cute and at times pretty clever, lacks the intensity of its predecessor—it doesn’t pull you into an emotional vortex quite the way you’d hoped. (Though Hayden Christiensen, per his usual, does a great job of pulling you into a dull void.) The joy of New York, I Love You is found in the balanced exchanges of the film’s more interesting characters. “New York is the capital of everything possible” a cabbie tells his passenger. The passenger, played by Ugur Yücel, replies, “For a while, it can be.”

Limited release opens October 16

S tyle S tarts N E X T PA G E

21

Style

The Latest

Winter Weapons

Keepin’ It Under Wraps

By ALEX MOORE P H O T O B Y R AY L E G O

T

hink global warming is going to keep you nice and cozy this winter?

Think again! You only have to think back as far as last year to remember that you can still freeze your ass off—even if conservatives get everything they want, we probably won’t really start to boil and perish for a good forty years. So wrap up!

Clockwise from top left: Fred Perry Navy Scarf • A.P.C. Plaid Wool Scarf $120.00 • Nice Collective Polka Dot Scarf Wound together with American Apparel Unisex Acrylic Circle Snake Scarf in Navy/Ivory $28 • H&M Scarf $12.95 • Marc by Marc Jacobs wool scarf $98 • Original Penguin “Macbride” Scarf $50

22

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 L AT E S T

STYLING BY CARMEL LOBELLO

©2009 VTech Communications, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

We all deserve at least one affordable luxury.

The VTech LS6245. DECT 6.0 interference free technology, touch sensitive controls on handset and base, expandable to up to twelve handsets and BLUETOOTH® enabled to pair two cell phones to make and receive calls through the home phone. It’s a stunning combination of power, design LS6204 (sold separately)

LS6245

and price. Find out more at www.vtechphones.com

Designed to fit your home. And your life.™

Style

The Latest

Pop Life

The New Retail B y A L E X M O O R E • P H O T O S B Y S ilvana L agos

N

1

1

Areaware At Blank S18 Areaware is kind of like Design Within Reach, but the design is actually within reach. Cool architectural furniture and toys like spaceage folding bikes, at prices you can actually afford.

1

2

2

Wish You Were Here Swap 186 Orchard St. The transcontinental switcheroo brings labels stateside that can be tricky to find otherwise.

Social Suicide, Savage London, and Twenty8Twelve— Sienna Miller’s line— are all participating.

3 1

24

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 L AT E S T

G-Star 20 Okay, there are a couple reasons why this one is suspect: First, it’s on the same block as a regular G-Star store, which just seems a little excessive. Second, everything is white, which is a little strange after Labor Day. But hey, it’s all for charity.

2

ew York City is nothing if not resilient.

It adapts to meet (and reflect) the times quicker than any city on earth—a Darwinian wet dream. As the economic collapse deepened and shuttered storefronts began punctuating the cityscape with “for rent or lease” signs, the style world answered the call with a new trend uniquely suited for the times: the pop-up shop.

Far from a new concept, the pop-up shop has shed its stigma as a novelty unfit for serious retail and emerged as the vehicle of choice for some of the coolest brands to reach new people. And they are popping up everywhere—Bathing Ape, Ana Sui for Target, G-Star 20, and Inven.tory (the boutique outlet pop-up so successful it’s turned semi-permanent) all opened within four blocks of each other recently in SoHo. And then there’s the Areaware pop-up in the Blank S18 space at Port Authority, just vacated by Refinery 29’s pop-up.

Perhaps our favorite is the Wish You Were Here popup swap, in which some of London’s favorite boutique brands like Social Suicide and Savage London trade places with some of their NYC counterparts like In God We Trust and Reed Space. A pop-up location was set up in the Lower East Side and one in London, with staff trading cities for a few weeks.

Everyone is rooting for the economy to recover, but you should enjoy this phenomenon while it lasts. There’s something fun about the temporariness of it all—of finding that perfect shirt in a makeshift location that next month may well turn into another Starbucks.

3

3

© 2009 VTech Communications, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

Exile; Legendary Producer, DJ and Master of the MPC.

His unique approach, innovative style and dedication to his craft sets him apart. For years, VTech has been lucky enough to partner with many talented artists that all share one very important quality: They’re Authentic.

We spent a day with Exile in his studio and he schooled us on how he uses our new IS9181 Wi-Fi Internet Radio to make beats on the fly. Check out http://music.vtechphones.com/category/exile to see the exclusive video and download the track he made during our session. How will you use yours?

Exile gives you RADIO: A conceptualized album in which all of the samples were taken off of the AM/FM radio.

Stay tuned with Exile.

Photography by B+

HEAR THE WORLD

The new VTech IS9181 Wi-Fi Internet Radio lets you stream over 11,000 Internet radio stations from around the globe at the push of a button. No fees. No subscriptions. No strings attached. Listen to music, sports, talk, news and more. Hook up your MP3 player or stream music from your computer to the radio anywhere in the house. As Exile said in the video, “By the people, for the people.”

Check it out today at www.vtechphones.com/IS9181

Designed to fit your home. And your life.™

B oo k s

The Latest

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised It Will Be Read. Maybe B y S tephen B lac k w ell • P H O T O B y S ilvana L agos

Y

ou gotta love New York City subways in the summer. Sweaty commuters, the smells, the drippings from the ceiling, and, wait—I’m forgetting something. Ah, yes, the hundred-degree blasts of wind that neutralize the shower you took this morning. Sartre got it wrong: Hell is not other people. Hell is the New York City subway system.

And we all know the quickest route to ratcheting up the pain: trying to read a book.

Thomas Pynchon’s Inherent Vice—I couldn’t put it down. When I wasn’t reading it, I thought about it. And there I was, on the subway, rush-hour commute, with all four-hundred pages of it, its thick, heavy cover digging into my sweaty palms,

26

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 L AT E S T

trying to read whilst sandwiched between loud Europeans and easily the fattest man in a five-mile radius. It should have been illegal for this man to be riding the subway.

And, hey, no AC, just to sweeten the pot.

I was on my way to a panic attack. Then I thought, Could the Kindle be my sweet Xanax?

The goal of the Kindle, as Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos states, is to disappear, just like books. If books are supposed to disappear, Inherent Vice didn’t get the memo. Neither did the Kindle.

The Kindle has many naysayers, including New Yorker writer Nicholson Baker, who wrote a six thousand-word manifesto detailing its shortcomings. It was the Kindle’s 9/11. But the digitization of the book—all books—is coming. After

testing the waters, my personal experience with the Kindle is not as bad as Mr. Baker’s, but nowhere near as ecstatic as Oprah’s.

The Kindle 1.0 is a square piece of plastic that is less attractive then the original Nintendo video game system.

It has a six-inch gray screen.

Much is said of its grayness, and rightfully so, as the gray is a shade or two lighter than totally depressing. Under the screen lays a keypad with needlessly angled buttons, giving the appearance they are being sucked into an invisible vortex.

The “next” and “previous” buttons flank the screen, taking up the entirety of the machine’s upper half.

The Kindle 2.0 solved some of its aesthetic problems, but is still just a piece of plastic that downloads books and newspapers, which consumers will have to read on a gray screen because that is all e-ink allows.

Nobody on the planet gives a shit about e-ink.

I read Leonard Mlodinow’s The Drunkard’s Walk on the Kindle. Reading about mathematical principles on the Kindle is uncomfortable—it doesn’t lend itself to “thought experiments” like books do. And I accidentally pressed the nextpage button at an agitating clip. Also the pages don’t turn, cause there aren’t any.

The Kindle blinks. Other than that, it wasn’t half bad.

The iPod solved the problem of transporting music. Remember how crappy it was carrying five CDs and a Discman around? But do books really need a solution? They’re often read one at a time, and they’re often not read serially, which is something digital media can’t replace.

Also, CDs are annoying clutter, whereas a room without books is a room without a soul, or so the saying goes. Amazon, and whoever else throws their hats into the ring won’t do to books what the iPod did to CDs. And we’ll be better, and inkier, for it.

Digitalism

The Latest

Some Like It Hot Solar Power is Coming to a Home Near You B y S tephen B lac k w ell

A

fter taking office in 1980, Ronald

Reagan famously removed the solar panels Jimmy Carter had installed on the roof of The White House.

Carter had installed them in June of the previous year, at the height of the second energy crisis. The panels provided hot water to the West Wing.

Not exactly heavy lifting, but the symbolism of the panels’ removal was undeniable, and the act prefaced such mindblowing Reagan statements as, “Eighty per cent of our air pollution stems from hydrocarbons released by vegetation, so let’s not go overboard in setting and enforcing tough emission standards from man-made sources.”

There are two explanations for Reagan’s actions. One, the Alzheimer’s kicked in way before anyone realized.

28

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 L AT E S T

The other more plausible explanation is he thought, like most everybody else, that burning fossil fuels posed no threat to humanity.

Twenty-nine years later, we are, to quote Max Fischer, “in the shit.” Reagan is dead, yet you and I just keep on living.

And the reason I stress the panel removal is because it, along with Reagan’s repeal of tax credits, destroyed the solar industry. Taking down those panels did what Three Mile Island did to nuclear power: undermined its possibilities, and yanked it out of popular culture’s spotlight—except as a punch line.

But solar and other alternative energy sources are back in the spotlight. And with an environmentalist president and new pricing options, they’re going to stay there. Rob Ashmore, the founder of East Coast solar panel installation

company AeonSolar, is betting on it.

“In 2005 I moved to the East Coast and started AeonSolar to take advantage of the booming solar market in New Jersey,” he told me on the site of one his projects in Brooklyn, New York. “We also did a little work in New York where the incentives were decent but not good enough to make it a major focus. That all changed at the start of 2009 when the incentives for New York City became the best in the country.”

There is still an arduous legal process behind having solar panels installed in your home (it could take up to nine months for installation to begin after contract signing), and government interaction isn’t getting easier, but manufacturing and installation costs are declining for both residential and commercial

clients. Still, government isn’t the only problem. Seven of ten Americans believe in energy infrastructure overhaul.

But how many of them have actually seen a solar panel? I hadn’t, until Ashmore invited me to an installation.

“Everybody knows about solar and appreciates its magical qualities,” Ashmore explained. “They also know that it has been prohibitively expensive compared to conventional forms of energy.

We hear so many people say they are confused about how to get started and about the dizzying array of incentives and regulations. This all needs to be simplified if we are serious about implementing solar on a large scale.”

We ought to be. The continuing usage of coal and petroleum seems, at best, a fool’s errand, and, at worst, suicidal. But divisiveness is unavoidable, as liberals and environmentalists tend to speak in a sepulchral voice regarding climate change, while conservatives and big oil like to say there’s no problem.

Ashmore, who drives a white Prius, sides with the former.

“I am continually dumbfounded by citizens that go along with this ‘no-problem’ argument and fail to carry conclusions out further to the point of realization that a destroyed planet is much worse than changes to our current unsustainable economy.”

Which leaves the question everyone is left asking: Can alternative energies like solar power the lifestyle and economy we built on fossil fuels? “I don’t know if current and future renewable energy efforts will make enough of a difference,” he said. “But I believe it has to be better than if we do nothing.”

Columns

The Latest

EATS

Confessions of an Aging Indie Rock Fan

Thoughts On Food

By Max Goldblatt

Why I Hate Twitter The Future Tastes Good!

B y D oug P er k ul

Y

es, there was a time when long-form

journalism ruled. Readers looked to magazines and newspapers for their daily dose of news and entertainment, their next career move or to find an escort (those were the days—damn you, Craigslist). As the interactive space evolved, consumers abandoned much of what is called “traditional media” in favor of online media. Much of this movement I can clearly understand. I have no time to read The New York Times movie reviews (sorry A.O. Scott) and would rather check out the amalgamated reviews on Rotten Tomatoes. Same for breaking news. Screw Katie Couric and her overly botoxed brow; better and more timely content can be found online without the need to watch Viagra and Depends commercials (the oversixty-five crowd is now network news’ bread & butter, much to their collective chagrin).

While brevity and expedience are now an essential part of the online experience, it’s clear that we in web 2.0 have sacrificed the quality of content in exchange for mundane offerings and quips disguised as legitimate stories. This is what I despise about your service, Twitter.

As much as I enjoy reading short excerpts of

30

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 L AT E S T

a person’s exciting life online in real time such as, “Terrible itch today, wish I had brought my Gold Bond to work,” I do yearn for a “real” story every now and again. The Twitter service and the threads that they aggregate are akin to graffiti scribbled with a Sharpie on a bathroom wall.

Sometimes it’s witty and concise, but most of the time it is just silly rants and clichéd limericks involving my mother and her orifices.

Now Twitter, don’t get me wrong. Your service does have applications in today’s fastpaced world. I recently read about a taco truck that changes location daily and alerts patrons as to their location via Twitter. This I understand.

Same for concert updates. If I am at a huge festival and the show times change suddenly, please tweet this to me so that I can arrange my urinal and beer runs accordingly. As for news services attempting to break stories in less than a hundred and forty characters, this is just plain ridiculous. A major event or happening (whether it be on the local, national, or international level) needs to be explained and provided with a sense of context so that we can understand the ramifications of the situation. You just can’t tweet the world. But at least I’ll know when to take a piss at next year’s Bonnaroo.

I L L U S T R AT I O N B Y J O E Y PA R L E T T

I’m looking into my crystal ball and I’m using it as a culinary vessel. My ball functions like a sourdough bread bowl but it’s full of predictions, not steamy chowder. And now my creamy predictions for the future of food as we know and eat it: Mobile eateries run over the old brick and mortar establishments: Starting with the Kogi Korean BBQ taco truck in LA, souped-up roach coaches are taking over. High rent kills struggling restaurants, so the alternative business model is to slap wheels under good eats and bring that yum to the people (with the aid of the Internet). Expect more in your town.

More wild hybrid fruits and geometric veggies: Could I please have a Bananavocado? Do those fractal cauliflowers taste more complex or do they just look cool?

The crass commercialization of The Ethnic Sandwich: Torta, Cubana, Bánh mì. They are the shit, but they’re not so widespread. Bánh mì from Vietnam is my favorite: a toasty baguette, pickled carrots, cilantro, mayo, jalapenos, and a squirt of Sriracha trumps a sub sandwich any day of the week. My fast food Bánh mì joint would obviously be called Auto-Banh.

Rise of The Machines: Fantasy digital touchescreen menus.

Vegetarian? Food allergies? Not into carrots? Push a button and the menu narrows itself down for you. Push too many buttons and the chef will come out and have a word with you.

The future is the past: Forget molecular gastronomy. Simple preparations of the freshest ingredients, allowed to speak for themselves, won’t be going out of fashion any time soon.

Po l i t i c k

The Latest

Hang In There, Barry An Open Letter To Barack Obama

By ALEX MOORE

L

isten, Barry—can I call you Barry?—we’ve all been

watching the opinion polls, and I know it feels like everyone is crapping all over you right now. But here’s the deal: History tells us that people, at least when polled en masse, are just not that smart. I don’t mean to sound like a dick here, but it’s true.

To illustrate this point, let’s take a look at the highest-ever approved president in the history of the United States. You know who it was? Turns out it was the very guy you defeated at the polls in November—yep, George W. Bush. Clocking an approval rating of ninety percent, W. lays claim to the title of highest-ever approved president in history—higher than FDR, higher than Kennedy. His apotheosis (or what W. might have called his “moment of glory”) came on October 9, 2001, after he’d spent a month beating his chest, drawing false connections between Al Qaeda and Saddam Hussein, and spouting America’s new foreign policy position of “smoke ‘em out of their holes”—basically, setting into motion the most calamitous political and military landscape in at least a generation.

We were out for blood, W. was calling for blood, and we loved it. And when he delivered the goods—when he shocked and awed in many, many ways—we loved it, for a while. We loved it until we lost our taste for blood. We looked around one day to find we’d invaded a country without cause, run up an historic and unnecessary deficit, and nose-dived into recession. Sure we finally wised up—Bush left office with a final approval rating of just twenty-two percent, the all-time lowest on record. But it took us seven long years to figure out that all the chest beating and smoking out of holes was actually pretty bad for us.

By way of contrast take FDR, a president who’s always popping up at the top of all-time best-president lists, right up there with Lincoln. FDR authorized the National Industrial Recovery Act in 1933,

32

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 L AT E S T

which most people credit for staving off at least the worst of the Depression. The act itself had vehement detractors at the time (sound familiar, Barry?) and in November 1938, with the economy improved but still recovering, FDR’s disapproval rate stood at forty-six per cent. A little more than three years later Pearl Harbor was attacked, ending the long American reticence about engaging in world war. In the first opinion poll conducted after Pearl Harbor, once we

had declared war on Japan, FDR’s approval rating had jumped to eighty-four per cent.

Now, Barry, I’m not trying to suggest that entering World War II was unjustified, but I am saying that it took a long time for FDR’s crowning achievement—economic recovery—to win him serious points in opinion polls. It likely took almost a generation of hindsight to comprehend the full scope of the Depression and the efficacy of FDR’s oft-criticized policies.

Blood sells. Salubrious social policies?

Booooring! It’s the same as it ever was with

I L L U S T R AT I O N B Y J O E Y PA R L E T T

us Americans, Barry. We’re like a nation of teenage boys stoked up on too much Red Bull and too many Rambo movies.

No wonder the dissenting voices at these town hall meetings are dudes with guns strapped to the outside of their clothing and chicks displaying images of you defaced to look like Hitler to the Jewish Representative Barney Frank. But this time the bloodlust reflected in the opinion polls and the violent gag response to anything that might actually be good for us is taking on a mind-blowing hyper-irony. The image of people toting guns to protest against an initiative to give them healthcare is almost too much to bear.

Not that this argumentative approach needs any more dismantling, but it’s worth pointing out these pestilent protestors don’t actually have anything that they’re arguing for, only an obstinate refusal to change. An August 15 poll showed fiftyfour per cent of Americans think that doing nothing to healthcare this year is the best idea. Given the galvanizing convictions of your campaign and your whopping margin of victory in November, a bloodthirsty mob resisting change doesn’t seem like the most appropriate orientation for setting the cultural tone this year.

So buck up, Barry. Fuck ‘em. If you really want to see some serious bloodlust, make good on the rest of those campaign promises—finally and truly close Guantanamo Bay and reinstate habeus corpus; take a federal stand for gay rights; do even more for the environment by taxing carbon. People are stupid, at least collectively. The more we hate it in the opinion polls now, the more we’ll celebrate you for it later. As for these town hall meetings, we’ll all be thanking you in a generation when we look back at today as a dark age, when the richest country in the history of man left tens of millions of its citizens without access to healthcare simply because we lacked the foresight to change, and because we love a good fight.

The Clientele Bonfires on the Heath 1 I Wonder Who We Are 2 Bonfires on the Heath 3 Harvest Time 4 Never Anyone but You 5 Jennifer and Julia 6 Sketch 7 Tonight 8 Share the Night 9 I Know I Will See Your Face 10 Three Month Summers 11 Graven Wood 12 Walking in the Park

MONO

CU T THEFATFILMS.COM

MUSIC

Rain Machine Kyp Malone’s solo project, Rain Machine, trades in TV on The Radio’s soulful swagger for darker, minimalist confessions and out-there joyous jams. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t throw in the falsetto vocals or guitar wizardry—the record is brimming with what makes Kyp, well, Kyp. It’s not exactly Malone’s shot at freak-folk, the record’s more like a genre-busting romp through the man’s eclectic influences and towering talent.

Album Rain Machine Recommended Track “Smiling Black Faces”

P L AY

35

The

Industrial Revolution

By Gray Hurlburt • Photo by Matt Salacuse

O

n a scorched afternoon in early August I met with The xx, a young, softspoken bunch of Londoners who dress in mishmash black attire, at a retro diner in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

On account of the stifling weather, the allure of air conditioning and starchy food seemed called for. I was hungover and tired, and, as it turned out, so were they.

When they came in through the glass door, bassist Oliver Sim had to duck his elongated body through the frame, and the rest followed in right behind.

Together they looked like an adolescent combination of the Jesus & Mary Chain and Bauhaus. And like those rock stars, who could chronologically be their fathers, The xx already bore the physical strain of supporting a new album—replete with drooped shoulders and raccoon eyes. This brunch came after a long tour through Europe’s summer festival circuit, five shows in New York City (one the previous night with Friendly Fires), and two photo shoots that morning.

The four of them—guitarists Romy Madley and Baria Qureshi, drummer Jamie Smith, and the aforementioned Oliver Sim—joined me in a corner booth to discuss their thirty-eight minute premiere, entitled xx.

All the way through it sounds like a pleasant déjà vu of rhythm and blues circa 1990, but with something more that’s enticingly different. After ordering a round of milkshakes, Oliver was quick to explain where the mesh comes from: “My older sister is quite into 90’s R&B. So, when I was growing up I stole most of her CDs,

36

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

and had taken on most of her music. On the other hand, I was listening to a lot of Queens of the Stone Age, Placebo—and then, yeah, a lot of TLC, Aaliyah, and Ginuwine.”

These eleven tracks—from the instrumental “Intro” to the closing “Stars”—bob with a playful dubstep bass, circular guitar patterns, and prickly electronic drumbeats. Scattered throughout, keys and ambient textures provide subtle color, but remain understated. “There is quite a lot of space in our songs,” said Romy, “and I think that some of the producers saw it as a space to fill with their own sound—which is technically false.” This is why, eventually, Jamie handled much of the production on his own. He spent six months in studio tinkering away at the songs to attain a minimalist kind of precision.

After a long draw from his vanilla shake, Oliver added, “I suppose it’s kind of like an idea of only keeping what’s necessary in the song. It’s often the case when we are finishing a song, just taking stuff out.”

What’s left serves as a tight foundation for vocals, which take the shape of Romy and Oliver chanting in a hushed harmony. In “Basic Space” they exchange intertwining verses, before converging with “Basic space, open air, here / Don’t look away when there’s nothing there.”

About now the waitress returned with plates fit for only a Brobdingnagian. Baria joked that she could probably wear the onion rings as wrist bangles. I asked where their choice of writing duets came from.

Romy offered, “I think whenever we record a duet it never seems childish, because a lot

of the songs are ultimately love songs. And we’ve been friends for such a long time that we felt it would be good if we wrote our own side of the same subject.”

“How long have you known each other?”

I asked.

After she finished chewing, Baria answered, “Romy and Oliver have known each other since they were four.”

“—Three, really,” said Oliver.

Baria continued, “Then we all met each other when we were…eleven, in secondary school.” That was nearly a decade ago.

Since then they went on to university at the Elliot School, an art school in London with famous alumni such as Burial, Hot Chip, and even Pierce Brosnan.

By doing the math you can see just where these four amigos are in life. Going on this, I thought I saw some light behind the numerals in their name. It turns out this conceit was true, but later in coming.

I hailed our waitress for our check, then asked The xx what’s behind their name.

“It was purely, when we started, just for aesthetical reasons,” said Oliver. “We quite liked an X—it’s strongly industrial. I think, thinking ahead of ourselves, we thought that, artwork-wise, it could be incorporated into a pattern. So, it probably had the least meaning behind it, besides being purely aesthetical. And the album came along, and we got to thinking that we will all be twenty when it comes out. So…it just sort of happened.”

“So, you’re all twenty.” “We’re all twenty, except Romy,” said Baria, correct this time.

“I turn twenty on Tuesday. We’re having two gigs in London on Monday and Tuesday, so I guess that that’s my party.”

To Hell And Back

By Danny Fasold • Photo by julia galdo

M

aking a record is hard work. No band knows this as well as Division Day, whose first proper record, Bear Trap Island, came entirely out of the members’ pockets. Track by track, singer/ keyboardist Rohner Segnitz, drummer Kevin Lenhart, guitarist Ryan Wilson and bassist Seb Bailey would scrounge up what little money they’d earned from their day jobs, take it to San Francisco and hope to get as much recording done as possible in a weekend’s time. This went on for a year before the record was finished. Two years later, it finally saw release, and by then the band could hardly stand the songs they’d labored over for so long.

“It just kept getting strung along,” confesses Segnitz. “By the time we’d started touring on it, the juice had already been sucked out.”

So you can imagine their relief when their second album, Visitation, was picked up by Dangerbird Records only three days after the band had finished recording (“I was jumping out of my pants, I was so excited!” says Lenhart).

Ethereal, brooding and at times downright creepy, Visitation floats in a wicker haze of impassioned (if not indecipherable) vocals and caterwauling guitars, all burning from the inside.

Riddled with occult references and elaborately sequenced beats, this album pulsates differently from their previous work, reaches higher, digs deeper, feels freer. Talking to the guys one hot Saturday morning in a noisy Los Angeles café, it doesn’t take long to discover why.

As the band explains, this was a back-tothe-drawing-board process, an exercise in liberation. It was hard work, yes—but Division Day is used to it.

How is Visitation a departure from your previous stuff? Kevin Lenhart: With Bear

Trap Island, we wrote the lion’s share of

38

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

the material in the practice space. For this record, we began trying to come up with new songs using the same process, but it wasn’t working. So Rohner began making demos at his house. Rohner Segnitz: I know most people always do demos before the final song, but we never had. We weren’t used to it. So we kind of winged it. It’s funny, because I always had an aversion to demo making. Demos, by definition, aren’t finished and aren’t fully fleshed out. They just aren’t as good as the final product. And I don’t like making things that I guess are crappy in some ways. But the solution ended up just making the best possible demos that I could make.

Shortly before you guys started writing the songs for Visitation, you were considering calling it quits. Why? KL: It wasn’t out in

the open like that. We didn’t see each other and be like, Hey, are we breaking up today? But with Bear Trap Island, it got so stale. The process of putting it out was absolute hell. RS: By the time it was finally released with distribution and stuff, the songs were already two years old. And then we toured on it for another year and a half. KL: I guess that really drained us, because every time we’d meet up to work on new material, there was no spark. It wasn’t really that we wanted to break up, but it came to the point last summer where we realized we had to break up with the way we had been a band. So it was either change or die, really. Ryan Wilson: There was a lot of uncertainty. To top it off, we got dropped by our record label right in the middle of that whole reinvention process. KL: I can see how they were a little uncertain about us. We were uncertain about us. And then the whole financial situation certainly didn’t help. I mean, there we are borrowing money to make another record wondering if this was the stupidest thing ever or if it was actually pretty cool. And we decided it was pretty cool. [Laughs]

The press release describes Visitation as being about the “unnatural encroaching upon everyday life.” Do you think that to be a fair description? RS: Yeah, definitely. As

far as lyrical content is concerned, there’s a pattern of occult imagery or occult themes acting on a metaphorical level.

Where do all these occult references come from? Is that something you take a personal interest in? RS: Not in any kind

of disciplined way. That’s just where my brain naturally goes. Plus, I’ve been listening to hours and hours of black metal for a year and a half, and so it’s only natural that some of that bleeds into what I’m doing. “Chalk Lines” is about an occult ceremony in someone’s kitchen—a summoning, of sorts. But again, it’s not like I’m not into summoning demons. It’s because I find that the idea of someone trying to summon some ancient and terrifying power is a very interesting metaphor for something else. But it’s not a record about summoning demons.

It’s just a record that the listener summons demons to. KL: That’s it! Seb Bailey: You

have to listen to it backwards to really appreciate it. [Laughs] How does Division Day of today compare to Division day of 2001? RS: In 2001,

we played our first show together and literally sold 100 CDs at one show.

This was in a room of like 110 people or something. Basically everyone there bought a CD. KL: It was our first show ever! I’d never played drums on stage. We were so crappy! [Laughs] But we sold all those CDs and immediately it starts to go to our heads, like, Wow, we can make a living off this! RS: Yeah, and then at our second show we sold like five records.

RW: Maybe it was none? RS: Maybe. But yeah, it’s just been harder and harder for us ever since. So really, we kicked way more ass back then. [Laughs]

Turning Over A New Leave

By Isaac Lekach • Photo by Drew Reynolds

I

can’t imagine Mike Kinsella

could have been any more candid if this interview was conducted as originally planned—drunk.

That’s what he proposed, anyway.

I intended to honor it, too, but having developed a miserable cough I opted instead for a juice made of beets, carrots and ginger.

“You did the opposite of getting really drunk,” he joked from his new home in Chicago. “It’s okay. I’m not drunk, either.

I forgot.”

Roughly twelve years before adopting the Owen moniker, Kinsella, now thirtytwo, started the highly influential Cap’n Jazz with his brother Tim, whom he continues to collaborate with, most notably in the band Joan of Arc. He has cultivated a legion of devotees through his many bands, but confesses to be most musically satisfied with Owen, “because that’s what comes out of my head.”

New Leaves is Owen’s fifth album and comes adorned, like the previous Owen records, with ornate, complex guitar arrangements—Kinsella’s veritable calling card. But as the title indicates, New Leaves marks a change. Kinsella recently became a father and the record finds him ruminating on what comes along with it.

On standout “Never Been Born” he sings, “It’s a young man’s game and about time I quit.” Don’t worry though, aforementioned fans—he assured me we shouldn’t interpret the lyric literally.

You always ask audiences if there is anything they would like to talk about in between songs. In that spirit, is there something you want to talk about? There’s a lot of things

I’d like to talk about. I’m sort of torn about letting my baby cry it out. If I let her cry is that going to make her cry less and make

40

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

I N T E R AC TI V E CO N T E N T

her be less spoiled, or is that going to make her feel emotionally detached? I’m also wondering about countertops—if I should get a butcher countertop instead of a cheap laminate thing. If I cut chicken on it, will it store all the diseases in it? I’m wondering if I’d have to bleach that after every use.

Were you given any advice that prepared you for parenthood? Not really. It’s insane

that they send you home after two nights in the hospital. When we were leaving the hospital—we had our little car seat and we were obviously very nervous and when we got to the doors it was raining outside and we were like, Um… can we get her wet? For like a minute? Every little thing you just question.

Apparently you’ve been playing for twenty years. Tweeennnnnnty? Well, yeah, if you

want to count my seventh grade band…

You went on to play in a bunch of other bands and have been doing Owen for some time now. What’s been the highlight? It was

the most fun during Cap’n Jazz. Those were the first out-of-town shows. We got a van and we toured and we slept on people’s floors. We stayed in strangers’ houses and met girls. That was when it was all new and exciting.

Why is the new record called New Leaves?

The easiest reference would be that I’m an

owner of a new home. I’ve got a new baby.

A lot of shit is going on. It’s sort of a new beginning. But the song “New Leaves” was already written and it sort of seemed like the right first song and the right sentiment for the whole album.

How should we interpret the line “It’s a young man’s game and about time I quit”?

I don’t know. Not that I’m going to quit writing songs—I’m trying to schedule some shows, but the way I’ve been a musician for the past decade has to change now that I’m a dad.

I also noticed you have an affinity for cursing.

True.

If you were on Inside The Actor’s Studio with James Lipton and he asked you what your favorite curse word is, what would you say?

I don’t have a favorite word, but for some reason I came up with this phrase—I was playing Halo with this kid and he got real mad at me, sort of unjustifiably. We were on a team and when we were done playing I left a message like, Hey dude these are the reasons why you’re wrong—why I actually helped the team and didn’t hurt the team.

Whatever. Nerd talk. And then the kid left a message and he was just like, U R gay.

And I wrote back, I’m gonna punch your asshole. So that might be my new favorite dirty thing to say—that I’m going to punch an asshole.

Mike Kinsella’s past

3. The One Up Downstairs Recommended

1. Cap’n Jazz Recommended Album:

Album: The One Up Downstairs EP

Analphabetapolothology

4. American Football Recommended

2. Joan of Arc Recommended Album: So

Album: American Football LP

Much Staying Alive and Lovelessness

5. Owls Recommended Album: Owls

THE COnversation Continued: Mike Kinsella Talks Parenthood.

Take a picture of this page... text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or email it to dt@mobot.com

Mike Kinsella with his dog Oscar A.K.A. Google Earth

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

Man Of Mystery

By Danny Fasold • Photo by Julia Galdo

I

n the early months of 2009,

Neon Indian found its way onto the blogosphere. The gushing synth swells of “6669 (I Don’t Know If You know)” captivated listeners with its psychedelic dance grooves and “Should Have Taken Acid with You” positively melted ears with its instrumental New Order-meets-Ariel Pink sounds. Shortly thereafter, “Deadbeat Summer” and “Terminally Chill” followed and received equal praise. In a matter of months, Neon Indian had become a buzz band.

What’s unique about this feat is that nobody actually knew who Neon Indian was. We knew one member was a guy, the other a girl. Their names, histories, ages, credit history—all a total mystery.

Needless to say, this only stirred the buzz something fiercer.

Well, now those names are known.

Alan Polarmo—formerly of Ghosthustler, currently of the electro-pop band VEGA— and his close, personal friend Alicia Scardetta were the culprits. Polarmo was responsible for the music, Scardetta for the video art. And although the duo has yet to perform any shows (they are set to make their debut at Morrison, Colorado’s Monolith Festival in September), their vision was clear from the get-go: Overwhelm their audience’s sensory perception through a stealthy combination of weird music and even weirder video.

What prompted the genesis of Neon Indian?

The way the story goes is I had this unusually vivid dream one night where Alicia and I were taking acid. I texted her about it later as sort of a joke, but then she asked me if it was something that I actually wanted to do. So we arranged this time during the holiday break to take acid together, but I ended up getting caught up mixing someone’s record in Dallas, so I wasn’t able to go down. I felt really bad about it, so I wrote “Should Have Taken Acid With You” as this sort of tonguein-cheek apology. It was really kind of

42

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

rushed and thrown together and I didn’t really think of it again until she texted me back and told me, “Wow, there’s really something to this.” After that, I starting revisiting the same aesthetic I had used for that song. The only rule was to try to write each song in two days at most and not get lost in the process. In a month’s time, I pretty much had Psychic Chasms.

How did Alicia become involved? I was really inspired by this piece that she did when she was at Pratt [Institute] this past year. It was this really weird stop-animation short that was comprised of all these found images she had literally torn out of magazines and put together. It was set to Ariel Pink’s “Getting High in the Morning.” I was really impressed. It was just a thirty-second clip, but as soon as I saw it, I knew that it fit my music perfectly.

Neon Indian started as a total mystery.

Nobody knew who you guys were or anything about you. Was that intentional on your part? It was. Initially, preserving some kind

of anonymity was based on the idea that I really didn’t have any expectations out of Neon Indian. These were really just songs that I was making on a whim, and I didn’t want the music to be judged preemptively based on VEGA or Ghosthustler or any other project I’d been affiliated with.

How long were you able to keep your identities under wraps? It was a few months.

Once we were looking to put it out on a label and perform live I realized it was just kind of a nuisance to retain anonymity.

It’s got to be pretty weird, being in a widely buzzed about band that’s just surrounded in mystery. It is. I’ve gotten some pretty

ridiculous comparisons. People have thought that I was from MGMT, Animal Collective, St. Vincent—the list goes on.

St. Vincent? C’mon, that’s a stretch. It is a stretch. It certainly didn’t help when a friend of mine put up on his blog, like, Wink, wink, just so you know, it’s a band that has had moderate success in the past. And immediately people just started thinking like MGMT and all these wild names. Speaking of MGMT, there was one really weird interaction I had with this random girl. Out of nowhere I started getting these endless text messages from this person I didn’t even know saying, Hey Andy, it’s me! And being a smart ass, I was just like, What’s up? Long time no see! And I just remember thinking, Andy? I wonder who that is. Many messages down the line she says that me and the rest of MGMT can stay at her apartment, and it suddenly clicked.

Did you tell her you weren’t who she thought you were? Yeah, but she doesn’t believe me!

She still thinks it’s Andy Van Wyngarden [MGMT front man], but trying to convince her otherwise is just… I don’t know, I find it so weird that someone would be so convinced—because she kept saying things like, With those lyrics, you have to know Andy. You must know him! You must be him! I find it hilarious that I’ve somehow inadvertently attracted stalkers from this other band camp.

N eon I ndia N More Than Meets The Eye Alan Polarmo is Neon Indian, VEGA, and Ghosthustler. Check out some other artists too prolific for just one banner: 1. Bradford Cox: Deerhunter and Atlas Sound.

(Current Release: Logos by Atlas Sound)

2. Justin Vernon: Bon Iver and Volcano Choir.

(Current Release: Unmap by Volcano Choir)

3. Guillermo Scott Herren: Prefuse 73, Savath & Savalas, Diamond Watch Wrists, Delarosa & Asora, and Piano Overlord. (Current Release: La Llama by Savath & Savalas) 4. Tom Fec: Black Moth Super Rainbow and Tobacco. (Current Release: Eating Us by Black Moth Super Rainbow)

By John Z • Photo By Kareem Black

39

Politics As Usual

By Amelia Kreminski • Photos by Axel Dupeux

On a cloudy Thursday afternoon, in an empty dining room lost in the upper floors of a midtown Manhattan office building, Erlend Øye wrote a song. Intermittent sunlight peeked in through the windows as clouds sidled across the sun, and intermittent voices chided the silence of the square tables and vending machines. It was nothing special. It was an ordinary afternoon. And as Erlend Øye’s fingers wrapped around the guitar neck and began plucking out a melody, he was doing nothing special. He was doing something ordinary. He was just picking up a guitar and playing a song.

“So many interviews to do, and here’s another one,” he intoned softly to a quirky, melancholy guitar line. “We make it up as we go along.”

The quiet libretto of the acoustic punctuated the next thirty minutes, and the strings patiently traveled from Øye’s hands to the lap of Eirik Boe, the other half of the Norwegian pop group Kings of Convenience, and back again to Øye’s. They’re a calming duo, a meditative musical team from the coastal city of Bergen who have known each other since childhood and have been playing together since the early nineties. And after a five-year Kings of Convenience hiatus, they’re back on the road in support of their fourth record, Declaration of Dependence.

Since releasing their debut album Quiet is the New Loud in 2001, both musicians have been involved in many projects besides Kings of Convenience. In 2003, Øye lived in Berlin and worked as a DJ, contributing tracks to the mix albums of the DJ-Kicks series. In Jakarta, Indonesia, he formed a side project called The Whitest Boy Alive, an electronic dance band. Meanwhile, in Norway, Boe studied psychology at the University of Bergen and became an active member of the Norwegian political party called the Venstre Party. They have both collaborated with such indie rock luminaries as Coldplay producer Ken Nelson and Leslie Feist for Kings of Convenience.

But on a pleasant Thursday afternoon in early September, the Kings were missing from both Norway and Jakarta. They were fiddling around on a guitar in New York, chatting softly about their various endeavors amidst the city skyline. Their fingers carried

44

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

the subtle swing and South American swagger of João Gilberto, the Brazilian “Father of Bossa Nova” and one of the their biggest influences. And in quiet, pleasant eccentricity they took an ordinary conversation and turned it into a spoken ballad, a cadence, a story.

But for them, that’s nothing special.

“So many songs in the world, and here’s another one,” Øye continued. “We make it up as we go along…”

You both have many interests outside of music—tell me about some of the political issues that inspire you. Eirik Boe: I’m mostly interested

in urban development and environmental issues. My passion is to make cities more humane and livable. There are all these strange ideas around about what you should do to develop cities, and a lot of those ideas are wrong, I find. I try to make my perspective on this heard in my hometown. For example, building a new motorway going straight into your city is not the way to make the downtown area vibrant. A lot of people think that if you want the shops and cafes to go well than you have to have a motorway that passes straight by because that’s going to lead a lot of people there and it’s going to be good for business. But in fact, it’s the opposite.

It tends to just suck the life out of an urban area. In New York you have this in a lot of places. The streets with the most traffic are not the most popular streets.

Erlend Øye: That seems sort of a logical solution to this problem— that you should let the people who want to use a car and do that live in the suburbs, but don’t let them destroy the city center. Let the city center be a vibrant place where people are meeting more— they have to deal with each other because they don’t have a car.

It’s a good compromise. And I think here in New York, it kind of is like that. That’s kind of the amazing thing. Like in downtown, Lower East Side, it is like that. That’s a cool thing, how New York has managed to kind of cure capitalism to get to this stage. But in Europe we try in a social democratic way to steer it with clear rules.

EB: But I think the reason New York works so well is not thanks to pure capitalism. The layout of the streets is from a period of time before capitalism was as strong as it is today. There was much more

of this civic idea that you build a city for society, you don’t build a city for individuals. Even when you look at the layout of the streets, there was clearly a plan behind it. Central Park, for example—it wouldn’t happen today. The land would be much too expensive, and someone would have bought it and built a golf course there.

So I think the reason why New York is the great city that it is today is thanks to the ideals of the 19th century, 18th century. It’s funny, if you read Le Corbusier’s book about modern city planning, La Ville Radieuse—which is like the Bible of modern city planning—he’s writing about the worst place in the world, which is Manhattan.

He’s trying to convince his readers that this is not the way to do it.

EØ: Orlando’s like the worst city. You make stuff like Disney World, or you make places where you go, and walk. You make destinations. The idea with the city is that destinations are everywhere. It’s not clear what is a destination. But in Orlando it’s like you make destinations. You go there, you pay to be in that destination, and you leave. Your home is important, your home is your space, and public space is just wasteland. Nobody cares about it—it’s just ugly. You make it beautiful in your home or you pay to go to a fun destination like Disney World.

Healthcare is a very pertinent political issue right now, and it’s something you get for free in Norway. What do you think about healthcare policy? EB: I think that the idea that a civilized society

takes care of the health of all the citizens is a really basic principle of civilization. In the old days, if you got sick and people just left

Iranian president. He seems like an interesting guy—Ahmadinejad.

He seems like quite a character. Silvio Berlusconi—he’s fun.

EØ: I think he’s really much more fun than the Iranian. He’ll be fun.

How do you feel about the future of the global community, politically and environmentally? EB: I think we’re definitely moving towards

an energy crisis. There’s no doubt about it, and it’s going to have a lot of consequences. For example, the food situation, nowadays— most people in the world are depending on food which comes from far away from where they live, and when there is an energy crisis we cannot transport goods to such an extent anymore. So I don’t think I’m being particularly pessimistic if I say that this will clearly be a big, big problem in a few decades from now.

Are you excited about your new record? EB: I am excited that we are

talking about city planning.

EØ: Very excited about the record, great record. Sounds like the other ones, slightly different. We were apart but we realized we love each other, so we come back here and we do it.

What do you do for fun or to relax? EB: I play, every day, chess. I’m addicted. I have a few friends, who I meet regularly, or I play Live Chess on the Internet, which is probably the most intense meeting you can have with a stranger. It’s such an intense mental battle.

EØ: I have to say, in general, I have always been very much into

“I think that the idea that a civilized society takes care of the health of all the citizens is a really basic principle of civilization.” you in the woods to die, your tribe was not a civilized tribe. It was those tribes who took care of their sick individual who developed into the civilized world that we are part of today. It should just be a basic right and it should be one of the rules that society needs to be led by. And it has nothing to do with freedom, you know? Like the idea that if you get sick and I have to pay for your healthcare with my taxes—it doesn’t make me a free individual to see you die. Because you can’t afford it and I don’t want to pay for your healthcare. It’s selfish. It’s not freedom, it’s just selfishness.

EØ: It’s a very weird kind of freedom. The freedom to not care about you and your problems. And you can’t be bothered by everybody’s problems. But you should be worried about some people’s problems. I guess the idea of America’s capitalism is you care about your family. You care about your very close circle of friends. And that is very tribal.

If you had the opportunity, what major political figures would you like to talk to? EØ: Barack Obama.

EB: But then again, Barack Obama—I agree with most of the

things he says and does. It would be more interesting to talk to someone you could actually convince into changing their mind. For example, corporate leaders. There are a few bad people there. The

board games, and role-playing games, stuff like that. I really like board games still. But the thing about board games is, you have a good time, and then the evening’s over, and you realize you spent the whole evening not winning a game. What have I got left from it? And the great thing from music is you feel you got something left from making songs. Your life hasn’t gotten wasted.

Your music is very unique, and hard to fit into a genre. How would you describe it? EØ: It’s a continuous discussion within our band. What

are we? Are we like an authentic, anthropological phenomenon— like are we making folk music in a way, are we making traditional music symbolizing what people in Norway are doing right now? Are we like African drummers, but the Norwegian version of African drummers? Or, are we a pop band trying to compete with Justin Timberlake, but just with different means? It’s very hard—we are quite schizophrenic in this thing. Because Simon and Garfunkel, for example, was a pop phenomenon. They sold millions of records.

So it seems like we could potentially do that, too. But at the same time I also really, really enjoy people who just record their music very simply, and it’s just a beautiful song. There’s a lot of people’s attentions who you won’t catch but you just don’t care. Because who doesn’t want, has already.

47

Life Is A Highway: The indie wunderkind turns multimedia artist with the release of The BQE.

By Drew Fortune • Photos By Denny renshaw

F

or a man who has never shied away from grand ambition, Sufjan Stevens’s latest project,

The BQE, a cinematic suite inspired by the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, appears to have gotten the better of him—a project with a scope and feeling too large to fully capture. A sprawling undertaking, incorporating an orchestra of over thirty people, companion comic book, 16mm cinematography and choreographed Hula –Hoopers, the two-year endeavor is finally being released as a dual CD/DVD package on Asthmatic Kitty. Upon release, Stevens, the man who famously announced plans to release an album for each of the fifty states, is finally ready to take a step away from the epic and learn to appreciate the modest. Call it Stevens’s Apocalypse Now or Fitzcarraldo, the project may have been a vision impossible to realize, but the Detroit native is not beaten and, like his hometown, is slowly learning to rebuild from the ground up.

Speaking with Stevens from his home in Brooklyn, the boy who grew up playing too many instruments is enjoying some much-needed downtime. At an early age, Stevens had a voracious appetite for all things musical and, while self-taught, was composing sonatas on a toy Casio by age eight. By college, he had become proficient on the oboe, recorder, banjo, and guitar. The list goes on—even Stevens doesn’t know how many instruments he can play. Following the success of Come on Feel the Illinoise, a concept album devoted to the state of Illinois, Stevens ascended from underground folk oddity to a marquee name, a title that Stevens never dreamed or cared to achieve. Music is an adventure,

48

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

I N T E R AC TI V E CO N T E N T

something that can never be figured out or conquered, yet Stevens is the intrepid explorer, eager to reach the summit or die trying.

I’ve got a nerdy, journalistic question for you: While women are typical muses for artists, how did the American landscape become your muse? Well, that’s a good question. I don’t know if it’s the

abstract, stereotypical condition of America as a “blank canvas.”

You choose your own adventure and create your own reality here.

And I don’t know how much of that is actual reality or how much of that is just part of our propagated heritage. Immigrants come here to sort of create a new life for themselves, and I think it’s even true of people born here. Even if you’re born here you have the sense that you can leave your hometown, escape the cultivated reality of your family, and create your own reality somewhere else. Because there’s enough space, there’s enough landscape, there’s enough room to choose your own adventure. I’ve always liked that. My family’s been really scrappy—we always figured it out and made our way through trials and tribulations. My parents were always industrious with whatever they could do to make ends meet. I think that’s sort of what I’m doing. I really don’t have any credentials at all. I have no authority in terms of music or songwriting or writing. And yet still, somehow, it’s like I’ve been able to figure it out and make it work.

Let’s talk about The BQE. The whole thing is a triptych? They were just three simultaneous projects, which were all linked together.

They are choreographed and linked together. It’s mostly sixteenmillimeter film that we shot on a Bolex camera. It’s kind of an old

Want to watch a clip from sufjan’s new Movie?

Take a picture of this page... text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or email it to dt@mobot.com

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt 49

“The grand, epic, conceptual conceit of my work is starting to wear on me, actually.”

sixties student camera. And some of it is Super-8. The images are mostly of the expressway in Brooklyn.

The footage looks really clean. Yeah, the footage is pretty good.

You know, it was just me and my friend, Reuben Kleiner, doing it.

He’s a cinematographer. It was just the two of us. We didn’t have a production or anything, so we were really happy that most of it turned out good. You never know with film. You shoot video and you know right away if it’s working, and with film you have to wait until it gets developed.

write charts out if we had symphonic instruments on stage. But I’ve never done an entire orchestral piece. It was really kind of fun.

I’m curious how you conceive music in your head. Is it always grand, in an orchestral sense? Do you always envision “bigger”? No, no. I

thirty or thirty-five people. And that includes five of us who were in the band. There is some guitar, bass, drum stuff. But, yeah, it was definitely over thirty people.

try and think small. And I think the big visions are collections of miniature fantasies all strung together—kind of a run-on sentence. But I think I’ve always tried to be nearsighted even as I approach big, epic adventures. The “bigness”—the grand, epic, conceptual conceit of my work is starting to wear on me, actually.

The BQE is kind of like a heedless, irresponsible venture down a conceptual black hole. And I never quite figured it out. It just kind of expanded and got the best of me. That’s kind of like my thesis; I tried to capture this expressway but it ended up capturing me.

So I feel like I’m ready to start small again—you know, get back to the folk songs.

And you acted as composer? Yeah, I wrote all the parts, which I’ve never really done before. I’ve done a bit when we toured—I’d

So in the end that’s your feeling, that it was impossible to capture your initial vision of the whole thing? Yeah. I tried my best but it

Something could’ve gotten washed out and you’d never know.

Exactly.

So how big was the orchestra for the score? Uh, I think it was, like,

50

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

ended up conquering me in some ways. I think it really took up a lot of time and energy and resources. I mean maybe that’s just the nature of New York in general. It cannot be reduced.

After the Illinoise project, did you like being in the public eye or do you prefer anonymity? No, I don’t like all the attention at all. It’s not

something that I strive for. For the most part I just ignore it. And I don’t want to take anything for granted. I hope that I can learn to be gracious about all the possibilities and all the privileges I have, and I don’t take any of that for granted, of course. But the attention is a little confusing to me and I don’t think it has any palpable use to me as a human being in terms of how I write and what I do. I think it’s a really great, great privilege to have an audience. That’s kind of why we make music—we’re sharing

something, it’s communicating, transcending. But this idea of being in the public is mysterious to me and abstract and I would just as soon recede into the privacy of my home, my room, you know, just stay there all day if I could. [Laughs] But, whatever, you just do what you have to do. All that stuff comes and goes anyway, so it’s important to just not take it too seriously and just try to be a good steward.

Was there a moment as a child, such as hearing a record spinning, where you said to yourself, “Yeah I get this music thing.”? I don’t

think that moment’s happened. [Laughs]

Still figuring it all out, I guess? Still figuring it out. Yeah, it’s still

very mysterious to me. I’m still just now starting to figure out my voice and my singing. But, with music, I remember listening to records as a kid with my step dad and he played old Beatles records, which w as good. I’m not sure if that was just appealing to me as a creative person or just as a child because the music is so full of life. Those records, like Sergeant Pepper’s, are just so full of joy and energy. I think that really appealed to me as a kid.

Is filmmaking something you’d like to follow up on as a medium?

Yeah. I really loved doing that. That’s great. I’ve always been into photography as a hobby. I take a lot of photos and this just seemed like the most practical next step from that. It’s moving photography. And I’ve always loved doing stop animation for fun, you know, with toys or with moving objects. I definitely want to work on films again.

I’d love to see a narrative directed by you. Yeah. I don’t know how people go about doing that. I definitely have a greater respect now for movies and people who go into movie making. It’s a real group effort. There’s got to be so many people involved to do those big narrative films.

I’m just curious what your everyday life is like, and what you do on an off day. I bike a lot. Yeah, New York is a really great city for biking.

I bike to my office every day. That’s what I do for fun.

At the end of the day, what makes you happy as a person? [Whispers]

Oh my gosh. That’s a big question…I have no clue. [Laughs]

Is it family, music, or all those combined? Yeah. Would I be happy without music? I always wonder that. You know I feel like it’s even deeper than happiness. I think that music is intrinsic to my existence, not even my happiness, but to my fundamentals of my just being here. It’s, like, part of my heart. You know? I don’t know. I always prefer joy over happiness. But, I’m happy to wake up and be in a city like New York, you know, and I’m happy to be surrounded by millions of strangers and to witness all kinds of wonderful, accidental, everyday, ordinary experiences around me. That’s always pretty remarkable. You can never quite master New York. And I think that’s why so many people live here, because they can get lost in the glory of the city itself. I mean, it’s kind of silly but it’s what keeps me here.

51

Yoni Wolf: A Wolf in Wolf’s Clothing

By Gray Hurlburt • Photo by Jonathan Willis

Yoni Wolf is Why?, and so are his brother Josiah Wolf, accomplice Doug McDiarmid, and a range of others who, in collective spirit, lend musical talent and artistic support to this indie rock/hip-hop enterprise. And depending on where you are in Why?’s discography—from Yoni’s premier as a solo artist to the most recent, sister albums Alopecia and Eskimo Snow—you’ll hear a fluctuation of rapping and singing, of drumbeat and melody. These days, however, it sounds as though Yoni has pressed his thumb down on the scale in favor of rock over rap. But, as Yoni goes on to explain, this is only for accent: a way to diversify one project from another.

This refers to a volume of songs compiled at anticon. records, in 2007, which were then divided up into two separate albums.

The first came last year with the release of Alopecia, fourteen tracks with a gritty, head-bobbing rhythm and somber tone. They hold together with Yoni’s familiar, obscure musings on death, the afterlife, and, among other daily activities, jerking-off.

One year later and we’re shown the other result of that hothouse period. With Eskimo Snow come ten songs that eschew the previous’ rapidness of rapping for a gentler kind of tune. Even still, despite the pleasant merry-go-round piano, the arpeggiating acoustic guitar, and Yoni’s musical vocal delivery, his macabre themes remain the same as ever: fatalistic, honed and kaleidoscopic.

In late August I had a talk with Yoni Wolf over the telephone.

We got to discussing Eskimo Snow, mummies, and dead poets on tape.

Happy Friday, Yoni. Do you get the weekends off at anticon.?

Weekends off! What do you mean? No, I don’t have weekends off.

I mean, I have off whenever I want to have off. But then I’ve got

52

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

work later that I didn’t do from when I didn’t do it. You know what I mean?

Sure. Now, the new album is on the way out. Are all of you working full-tilt to get Eskimo Snow out the door? Yeah. We’ve got guys

working in shifts, man. Yeah, we’re working.

I’m looking at the album work. There are two cut-out mummies smiling back. This is your own work I take it? Yeah, well, what is this

on? What do you have? They don’t have copies yet, do they?

No, I have the advance copy with mummies on either end. Oh, on

the disc! No, the art actually changed. I decided that wasn’t doing it for me. And so I said, “Hey, I want the mummies to be doing something else.” I decided that the only way to do it was to make a real mummy and then take photos of it. So that’s what we ended up doing.

I’m familiar with this: A mummy with a bouquet for a head. Yeah, exactly, exactly. I bought a bunch of muslin and soaked it in black tea for, like, a while, then hung it out to dry in strips. I brought my friend Brice over, Vaselined him up real good, wrapped him up in the muslin, and then we took the photos.

I was a mummy for Halloween last year. I could’ve done you better

than you done yourself—I guarantee that.

Eskimo Snow. It has a far different mood from Alopecia. It sounds brighter, almost positive. Is this what you had in mind behind the album? You think this one’s more cheery? I feel this one to feel

53

“I’m not a sentimental person at all. I am in a way, and I’m not in another way. I don’t worry about holding on to shit that I remember, or something like that.” pretty woeful, or something. It’s not as immediately scummy, as though Alopecia has a scummy-ness to it. This one, maybe, has a little bit more—I don’t know what it is—maybe more of a blanket of dark cotton, shadow, or something.

You know, I’m also reading Moby Dick at the moment. One of Melville’s conceits is that evil dressed in white is a lot more evil than evil that is nakedly dark. I like it.

And I thought that “Snow,” from the album’s title, it looks nice, but enough of it can kill person. And mummies, they’re dead bodies wrapped in fine cloth. Did you dress up your dark subject matter with something pretty? Yeah, yeah, that’s good. That’s good. You know,

there must be a pun—and you know we’re punners over here—and there must be a pun with Moby Dick. You know, some kind of a— More B. Dick. Yeah, there must be one in there. Now, I’m not the guy who’s going to make the pun. I just pick the punch line.

I see. And you’re a words man yourself. What was it that first turned you on to poetry and writing lyrics as poetry? I guess it was very

gradual, but in high school I started listening to this tape. Oh, I got into Bob Dylan and stuff, and I was like, This is what poetry is. And then I found this tape—or my friends lent me this tape—of Jim Morrison reading his poetry. Which, in retrospect, is awful— just awful. But back then, it was like, This is what poetry is. I’ve always been more of a listener than a reader, you know. So I got into that, and then I was just writing my own awful poems.

Intentionally awful poems? Yeah, that was high school. And I wrote

rap. I wrote rap and I wrote poems—two different things. And in college I took a poetry class, or a few of them, and got really into that. I liked that you have to read your poem in front of the class, and you had to get it good enough so that when you’re reading it you don’t feel like an idiot.

I worked at this library on campus and they had all these old records of poetry. I had just started making music on 4-track, so I was getting records out mainly to sample them, like, Oh okay, I’ll get these records out and sample em’, because I have access to all of these records. And then I started to find these people reading poetry. Some of them were just really good. I was like, damn!

I listened to Gertrude Stein. Did you listen to her? Gertrude Stein was a woman? No, I’m just kidding. But, anyway, that was basically the start of actually hearing and being first exposed to what I think now is actually good poetry. And then when I started listening to those records I would just listen all of the time. And then it was

tapes—I would get tapes out of the public library. And we had a really good public library: tapes, records, and CD collections.

These were at the Cincinnati Library. That was good and kind of what got me going, then my poems and my rap came together towards music after that, pretty much.

A major variation between Alopecia and Eskimo Snow is that you’ve shed the rapper mantle in the latter. Do you agree? It’s not like we

did Alopecia and then we did Eskimo Snow. We wrote them at the same time. We basically, intentionally created the two records out of all the songs we had.

This likely won’t be a trilogy? Um, there’s going to be a third and a fourth. No, I’m just kidding. Hopefully there will be another Why? record sometime in the future, but it’s nowhere near. But yeah, we created these two records to sound like what they sound like by diversifying the two songs into different categories—if that’s the word you use, I don’t know.

You’re heading off on tour soon, for two months, and I count that you have thirty-three shows. How are you guys prepping for this?

Smoke weed and stuff. Nah, we rehearse, get the boys down from Minneapolis. We’re going to get together in Zenia for a few weeks and just learn all the songs off the last two records, a lot of the ones off the one before that. And, you know, work out, take our vitamins, then hopefully we’ll be good to go.

Back to Eskimo Snow, what was the generating process like? The lyrics came first on most every song, I’d say. It’s different every time, of course. Generally, I’ll have a stack of pieces of paper. I almost generally have a book that I write in and have stacks of papers and things I’ve been writing on in the past little while. It happens pretty organically, so I can’t really say, because there’s not a set way that I work.

In the opening song “These Hands” you sound sentimental about aging. Would you use that word to describe the feeling behind that song, or the entire album? That has a negative connotation,

right? I’m not a sentimental person at all. I am in a way, and I’m not in another way. I don’t worry about holding on to shit that I remember, or something like that. But I can sometimes tend to have a strong memory and propensity to think in terms of the past. Occasionally, when I’m writing especially, I’ll be writing because I’m in a mode where I’m feeling sentimental or I’m feeling nostalgic—I’m just seeing things in a more profound light, for lack of a better word.

55

East is Beast

By Amelia Kreminski • Photos by Christopher McLallen

O

n a pastoral January day twenty-three years ago, in a forgotten corner just outside of England’s Lake District, a boy named Hayden Thorpe was born with a curious ailment. The condition lurked within him, silently dormant until fifteen years later, when his schoolboy collaborations with guitarist Ben Little revealed Thorpe’s birthright, and his fate was sealed. He was a musician.

And he sang in falsetto.

“I think when you’re fifteen or sixteen—when I first started to sing in a falsetto voice—it’s almost like having an embarrassing ailment,” Thorpe mused on a blustering autumn morning in Brooklyn, the night after his Leeds-via-Kendal band Wild Beasts made their New York City debut. “It’s like, shit, this isn’t right.

I should be sounding husky, you know—especially at that age— you need aggression, you need some sort of tonic—you need someone to back you up, in a way. But the singing developed with the words, so the singing allowed the words to be, perhaps, even more aggressive and confrontational than if I did scream down the mic.”

Twenty years after his story began, in late November of 2006, Hayden Thorpe, along with fellow bandmates and Kendal natives Ben Little on guitar, Tom Fleming on bass, and Bert Talbot on drums, released their first single, “Brave Bulging Buoyant Clairvoyants.” The freewheeling, ramshackle pop debut showcases the operatic heights and guttural growls of Thorpe’s vocal lines, and introduced the deliciously twisted, weirdly

56

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

I N T E R AC TI V E CO N T E N T

fascinating quartet that is Wild Beasts. They set to work compiling their first album in what Thorpe has called a “huge Swedish pop factory,” and by midsummer of 2008 Limbo, Panto was released.

The early months of 2009 found the band recording again, this time in a secluded farmhouse deep in the English countryside. The winter was unusually cold and the four men spent all their time holed up inside, listening to Turkish psychedelia, recording and playing nonstop, and barely sleeping. By March of 2009 they had written, recorded, and co-produced their sophomore record, a haunting and mysterious creation entitled Two Dancers.

In early September, when fall was inching into New York, Wild Beasts sat down with Death+Taxes to discuss the new record over plates of burgers, bagels, and green eggs and ham. They’re a jovial group, quietly British, and incomparably earnest about their craft.

And though their humility is evident, they have the courage and creativity to maintain their unique grandiose style.

“We don’t try to please the middle ground,” said Thorpe. “We sort of have to exist in a speed-dating environment where you either like us or you don’t. And if you don’t that’s fine, but if you do, cool, let’s party. I think my favorite music is when you’ve got to sort of believe in it and give yourself to it to sort of let it work for you.”

And he’s a man who lives by his convictions. Stubbornly individualistic and perpetually intriguing, the sounds of Wild Beasts are not to be swayed or silenced by trends and fads—and neither is their signature falsetto. But Hayden Thorpe can’t help it.

That’s just how he was born.

THE CONVERSATION CONTINUED. We ASKED wild beasts what would happen if they made a movie. want to hear what they said? TaKE A PICTURE OF THIS PAGE... text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or email it to dt@mobot.com

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

“Two Dancers” is actually a two-part song on your record. Why is that also the album title? Tom Fleming: The reason it’s got a title

track is because that song was written very quickly and became a central point—that kind of triggered off a lot of other ideas sonically and lyrically. I suppose the idea comes from when you talk about memory and refraction of experience. Like when you’re looking into somebody else’s eyes you don’t know what they’re seeing. You never really know what the next person’s thinking. That un-grabable thing. And there’s this idea of movement, and how formalized, abstract movement is beyond your control as well. And, plus, it’s a very drum-heavy album, very rhythmic, very organized to give it a kind of beat, without it being a straight hi-hat/snare—not like hip-hop beats but like different forms of dance music. Hayden Thorpe: I think also we felt that it was the classic pop scenario— the boy-girl, pink and blue scenario. Once we allowed ourselves the guilty pleasure of being that, it actually created a lot of room to mess with it. For me, the two dancers are that pop fascination with the teenage lust and sort of bodily abandonment and going with desires—and that’s sort of what dancing does. And most of the songs reference dancing because a lot of the songs are based in those sort of fucked up scenarios where you are drunk and, you know... It accepts those human failures, but it also celebrates them.

What do you hope people take away from this record? TF: I hope it’s a human record. I hope it’s flawed and imperfect—and some of it’s dark, but I hope it’s hopeful and positive by the end. There’s nothing worse than this kind of happy, everything’s-okay music because everything’s not okay. For anybody. We’ve just got to find a way of dealing with it. It’s a bit more human. We’ve learned some stuff, and we’ve got to do something with it. Yeah, there is some sadness, but there’s happiness as well. You can’t have one without the other. HT: You only get to know someone once you know their complexities, and their warts and all. It’s those things which endear you to them, rather than the façade.

You’ve said in the past that you want your music to challenge people— why is that one of your goals? HT: I think my favorite artists—

Leonard Cohen and Kate Bush and people like that—I think of how sometimes they do slip up. And sometimes they do some really grotesque shit and you think, What the hell was wrong with you?

But at the same time you, in the long run, sort of appreciate that.

It’s a hard thing to explain—to not like something, but at the same time… to love it. TF: Well it’s the same thing as epic failure: If you’re gonna fail, do it properly. Do it spectacularly. And have the seesaw.

Some nights when we were young we had such a seesaw. You can be like, What the fuck is that? And then you can also do something that is just so devastating. They have to exist together. You can’t be good all the time, but you can be interesting all the time.

As co-producers of Two Dancers, did you still have that amount of freedom on the production side of the record? TF: [Our producer]

lets us play around a bit. If anything important happens he’ll offer an opinion, but he’s always open-minded—very experimental.

HT: We’ve got this understanding with Richie because we go back a long way. He’s sort of a mentor of ours, sort of like a father figure.

Well, maybe not a father, maybe an uncle, you know. So there is that understanding and he’ll never say no to us, you know, he sort of dotes on us a bit, which we need.

“America does look quite wild from the other side—all these mountains and bears and people with guns and people saying what they mean, and that sort of thing.”

How did your early experiences playing music influence your career and attitude later? HT: [Ben and I] started playing guitar around the same time. Ben Little: We had the same guitar teacher as well.

HT: I think he was actually quite influential on us. Because he’d sort

of been there and done that. He was a very, very small man— BL: We were fourteen and we towered above him.

HT: Yeah, and he was a touring musician and he would go around

old people’s homes or working men’s clubs playing Beatles songs, but he had this really weathered perspective on things, like, at the end of the day you’ve just got to do it for doing it. He wasn’t getting paid anything—a lot of the time people would talk over him, or when he got on stage he was so small people would laugh at him.

BL: But he was absolutely awesome. HT: Yeah, he was incredible.

TF: Our guitar lessons were a completely different experience. My guitar teacher had a kind of playing mirror and he’d tell me, Play that fucking Led Zeppelin and stuff—occasionally I’d whip him out some Chuck Berry and the practicing guys would look at me like I’d just taken a shit in the corner. [All laugh] It’s not really okay. But I’ve got all that stuff—it’s a lot of stuff I’ve tried to un-train, stuff you have to think, Don’t fall into those traps. But it is like that, isn’t it? You come up with “Johnny B. Goode” and you basically have just taken a turd in the corner. Bert Talbot: Music teachers are hilarious. My drum teacher was absolutely deaf. Couldn’t hear at all.

You were just in the country this spring for South by Southwest. Do you enjoy touring in America? HT: America definitely holds this

mythical status for UK bands. Because it’s so vast and the distances are so great. American TV and films just saturate Europe. So everyone has a sense of this romanticized America which I think we’re eager to explore. BL: It’s so easy to tour in the UK and out here you’re driving for days to get from one concert to the next. It’s a bit scary—it’s so big it’s like, how can you ever break it?

TF: It does look quite wild from the other side—all these mountains and bears and people with guns and people saying what they mean and that sort of thing. I find it really intoxicating. It’s got an appeal that our home can never have.

Last night you played your debut New York City show. What do you do before shows to prepare?

Bert Talbot: Tie my shoelaces. It’s a practical thing as much as a

superstition. [Laughs]

59

More Than A Feeling

By Isaac Lekach • Photos By Ray Lego

I N T E R AC TI V E CO N T E N T

I

tell Nicolas Godin and Jean-Benoît Dunckel I’ve only been to their hometown of Versailles once.

“I imagine you saw the best parts of it—the castle and the gardens,” Godin replies almost consolingly.

“I did,” I confirm.

“It’s one of the most beautiful places,” he continues.

“Walking through the gardens you can feel a big influence on AIR’s music. Sometimes AIR could be the soundtrack to walking in this garden. It’s bizarre. It’s isolated. Very calm. It’s a place I really cherish in my heart.”

I’m sitting with Godin and Dunckel in the New York offices of their record label, reflecting on their career. For nearly fifteen years they have been churning out material dutifully. They released an EP, four full-length albums, a remix album, A DJ mix compilation, and the score to Sofia Coppola’s film The Virgin Suicides. There was a record called City Reading, in which the band provided the musical accompaniment to the poetry of Alessandro Baricco, a solo effort (Dunckel’s Darkel), and 5:55, the record they wrote and recorded for actress Charlotte Gainsbourg to sing on.

And now, eleven years after their seminal full-length debut Moon Safari, longing for the days before high profile producers and ace session musicians, Nicolas Godin and Jean-Benoît Dunckel sought refuge in their recording studio, Atlas Studio, and crafted their most personal effort to date.

Much like Godin describes the lavish gardens of his hometown, Love 2 is bizarre, isolated and very calm. Whether or not you’ve ever been to Versailles, you probably have a detailed memory of your own sealed within the texture of an AIR album or song. Hell, most of you probably lost your virginity while listening to “Sexy Boy.” Unless I’m mistaken, Nicolas, you studied architecture, and, JB, you studied mathematics. Why didn’t you guys pursue careers in those fields? Jean-Benoît Dunckel: It’s over now. I feel totally

[maladjusted] to any kind of other work. Like working for a company or someone. Having some issues, having time rushing up to give back a document. I don’t know how to do it anymore.

How far did you explore those careers? Nicolas Godin: Once it was

time to work I decided I would not do it. I had my degrees. I did seven years at school studying architecture and then the last year I said, Okay I have to find a job—I really couldn’t make it. So we decided to take another chance with the band because seven years before we went to all the record companies with our cassettes. It was the two of us with a few other guys. But none of the record

60

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

companies wanted to sign us. I knew inside of me I really wanted to be a musician. I wanted to make records.

Was that around the time you recorded Premiers Symptômes? NG:

Yes, exactly. There was a movement called the French Direction.

There were all these electronic bands. Everybody was making music. Everybody had a label. And there were all these nightclubs.

So you can make a song in your apartment in the morning and in the evening you could play the acetates in the club. The backlash of this is that everybody thinks we’re an electronic band because at the time France was huge for dance music.

But you guys started off making music that way. NG: Yeah, but we

were playing, though.

That’s interesting. You guys are credited as making that movement popular and acceptable, but you don’t even think of yourselves as an electronic band. NG: It’s true. JBD: We were the second acceptable

style beside house music. Through the borders there was this huge electronic scene with Daft Punk and other bands and it was only about [mimics a typical house beat] Psh-Psh-Psh-Psh. But in the beginning if we didn’t exist it would have only been a DJ movement.

But how did you arrive at your brand of music? NG: It’s just a feeling.

It’s an instinct. That’s what’s mysterious about music, you know you’re in a good direction, but you don’t know why. It’s like the game Hot and Cold. You’re burning …you’re cold. It’s instinct.

I remember when 10,000 Hz Legend came out I didn’t quite get it. But I went back and listened to it recently and couldn’t believe it came out in 2001. Sure, it’s not that long ago, but that record is incredibly ahead of its time. NG: I think we were very tortured

when we did 10,000 Hz. We wanted to be very experimental.

There were so many people that thought Moon Safari was coffee table music. So we were very vexed and we wanted to do the most crazy, experimental, adventurous album. JBD: We also had the possibilities that we were missing with Moon Safari. We had the budget as Moon Safari sold two million copies. The record company gave us the power to become true to our weird alternative desires.

At one point, on “How Does It Make You Feel” we had a choir of twenty-four people singing the same chords made by an arranger.

And on the top there was a computer voice. It’s like a computer, which is five hundred dollars and in the background the music is a fifteen thousand-dollar choir.

75

62

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

63

But do you look back at the record and think it was ahead of its time?

JBD: I feel like it could have been better.

Really? JBD: It’s a broken album. NG: It could have been the same

experimental thing but with a more stable structure.

have reborn Christians here and we are reborn musicians.

Moon Safari created a ton of awareness, but your score for Sofia Coppola’s The Virgin Suicides is what a bunch of my younger friends cite as their first exposure to AIR. Will you be contributing to her new film? NG: No. We’re working on another movie. I’m really nostalgic

Talkie Walkie is very song oriented while Pocket Symphony and even Love 2 have more instrumental tracks. In terms of composing the music, whether it’s an instrumental track or one with vocals, is the process the same? JBD: Basically we always try to do songs, but sometimes

about the era when there was a composer who was doing the whole soundtrack. Now it’s all about music supervisors. So we would like to do a classic score.

it doesn’t work and it becomes instrumental. When there is a little possibility of doing some singing on it we do it. NG: The music is the leader. The music tells us if it’s a song or an instrumental. We don’t decide, really. We find the tune on the piano or something and the tune is the bus and we’re just there to bring what the tune needs.

That’s the freedom. If you have a band you can’t say to the bass player, Ok on this song you don’t play. Otherwise, there is big drama. We don’t care. We have no duties. We are completely pressure free.

What’s the film? NG: It’s a movie called Distant Neighborhood. It was adapted from a Japanese manga by Jiro Taniguchi. It’s a manga for adults. We both like the book a lot and they decided to make a movie on it and asked us to make the music. We are really big fans.

Taniguchi is a big star in France. The story is very emotional and we feel very close to what he tells in the story. We’ll be recording in October and then we’ll tour in November.

Let’s talk about Love 2. First of all, why is it called that? NG: [Laughs] I don’t know. JBD: Because it creates a good impact on your mind.

Because you ask yourself, “What is Love 1?” Or, “Why Love 2?” So the fact you ask yourself, “What is Love 1?” is a good sign.

Affixing the numerical value definitely makes you think it’s a sequel to something. So in your mind, what is the precursor—What is Love 1? JBD:

Somebody said the love of your life is not always the woman you have children with. So this is the idea that love can happen anytime. Not at the beginning.

Is this then the album you’re most passionate about? JBD: There is

definitely a love story behind this album. The music is a reflection of a certain psychology and definitely we had some love issues and we needed this music do have been done in order to feel better. The music is the sound of our feelings. So this is a reflection of what is crossing our hearts.

Do you feel any resolution after making this record? JBD: Better. NG:

I saw you play in Los Angeles at the Hollywood Bowl with the L.A. Philharmonic. NG: That was a high point. It’s hard to top that. We

played at the Sydney Opera house a year ago. That was the first time I felt near the Hollywood Bowl night. They gave me a bowl that says Hollywood Bowl on it. It’s in my kitchen. Each time I make a salad I use it.

You’ve made records consistently since the beginning. Do you have other interests aside from making music? JBD: Basically, we try to

make as much music as we can, but sometimes there are other issues to take care of. When you work all day long there is always a moment when you are disturbed by your phone or answer emails—so we play music in the holes of that.

But do you have other hobbies? JBD: Oh yeah. Doing some sport

to have a cool, nice-looking body. [Laughs] And taking care of the children, which can take you a lot of time. Traveling. Going on holiday and traveling far away. We both often go to Corsica. Corsica is an island in the south of France. It’s really wild, but it has nothing going on there. It’s really, really beautiful.

Recovering.

I didn’t know you have families. NG: We have sort of.

You guys have had a tremendous cast of people who have contributed to your records. Who contributed to this one? NG: On this new record is

only Joey [Waronker] and us. We were nostalgic about being together like we used to when we started. Moon Safari launched us and we met all these people during our travels. Many musicians were playing with us and now I wanted to feel the feeling again of when it was just the two of us. It was a very charming time and I miss that time.

Is that why you didn’t have any guest vocalists on this record? NG: We

were fed up with having a bunch of people.

Sort of? Children scattered all over the world? NG: We have children.

That makes families. But we don’t have a family lifestyle. But in France it’s common to have children because it’s free.

Free? NG: It’s free—you don’t pay for university. [Laughs] Looking back on your career, is there something you would have done differently? NG: I think the reason why you make a new record is

because you wish you could have done something differently in the past. So as long as you have regrets you will have a career.

Jarvis has too much of an attitude? [JBD laughs] NG: No, I fucking

love Jarvis.

I was kidding…NG: We’d like to work with him again, but for this album we wanted it to be just us.

And you didn’t work with a producer? NG: Yeah. We are reborn. You

64

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

Lastly, people must tell you they make love to your music all the time.

NG: Quite often.

Is that the ultimate compliment? JBD: That’s the best compliment because that means that our music is the music of caress. NG: But

me, I couldn’t do it—I’d get so distracted.

The conversation continued: hear air talk about Love. Take a picture of this page... text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or email it to dt@mobot.com

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

65

Rain Men

By Stephen Blackwell • Photos by Kareem Black

I

I N T E R AC TI V E CO N T E N T

n January of 2008, five months before the release of Nouns, I visited No Age in Los Angeles to interview them for the cover of this magazine. I could hear Dean Spunt bashing away on the drums as I rode the freight elevator up to their practice space, a tiny room nestled in the corner of a large warehouse that was built in a part of town epitomizing the other side of the tracks—twenty feet from them, actually. After our introductions the conversation jumped from the salient issue of the day—Heath Ledger had been found dead a few hours before our interview—to punk music, their band, and what exactly these young men made of the buzz circling No Age like a great white.

No Age had signed to Sub Pop in 2007, being the ostensibly committed torchbearers of a lo-fi trend sweeping through indie music after years of big production and inclusion in movie sound tracks, car commercials, and so forth. Could something refreshing happen? The people who thought so were already fans of No Age, and those who didn’t just hadn’t seen the band live or picked up Weirdo Rippers, a collage of dissonance, drones, feedback, and punk rhythms the band had

66

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

pieced together since their humble beginnings.

Flashing forward to July of 2009, when I’m set to interview them again, No Age is one of the most talked about indie bands in the world. They have the rare gift of connecting with the kids while their act seems otherworldly. They’re performing at the Pool Parties in Brooklyn, a popular indie concert series situated on Williamsburg’s waterfront. Despite the pouring rain that will eventually move the show indoors, the audience politely soaks, waiting in line.

I meet up with guitarist Randy Randall and we agree the day’s schedule has been deep-sixed by the weather, so we’ll catch up over phone sometime next week. A few days later he dislocated his shoulder and performed at Lollapalooza sitting in a chair. I felt bad calling him. But when I did, it was cute. Randall’s cell phone speaker was busted, so he and Spunt had to hand the phone back and forth whenever the other wanted to speak. It reminded me of being a kid on vacation with my dad—whenever I would call my mom she’d always say, “Wait, wait, hold on a second—your grandma wants to talk to you.”

Want To Hear AN Exclusive, UnRELEASED SONG FROM NO AGE called “In Peril”? Take a picture of this page ... text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or email it to dt@mobot.com

From LEft to Right Dean Spunt, Randy Randall

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

“I don’t think anyone’s looking for big, posturing rock stars,” says Randy Randall.

“I don’t think the role of rock star exists anymore.”

“I want to be one of the guys up there with the big beer gut and long beard, doing this when I’m thirty.”

The last time I interviewed you guys, it was shortly after your New Yorker profile in early 2008. Sasha Frere-Jones told you No Age made him want to be in a band again. Randy Randall: Yeah, he did

say that.

Well, it seems a lot of people heard No Age and actually started bands. How do you feel about that? Flattering or weird? Dean Spunt:

[Laughs] It’s flattering, man. You know, I think Randy and me are pretty humble about stuff like that. I’m trying to remember when I was a kid if I ever thought, If I were in a band, it would be cool if we inspired people. I think I’d be stoked. And I am stoked. I think it’s really cool. But, being a humble man, sort of, it’s not really happening. RR: I think it’s cool. I think that what we do makes sense to us. I’m psyched that people are just out there and making music. I don’t really judge it.

say that first and foremost. I think of songs now, like “Teen Creeps” or “Here Should Be My Home,” that have a similar vibe. I think they’re related to “You’re a Target.” I don’t know—it doesn’t seem like quite such a departure for us. There are a lot of songs that are out now that are pop-structured songs. I think what’s somewhat of a challenge for us is just to see how tweaked we can get a pop song to be. And tweaked means how far we can push the sound, the frequencies—adding layers of sound to it we don’t necessarily think would go into a pop song. “Things I Did When I Was Dead”—that’s a pop song that’s all been based on recordings of feedback, drones, and things. It was kind of a challenge for us.

When I first heard Weirdo Rippers I thought it was the next development of the punk music that started in the eighties, before it became commercialized. I think a lot of people, myself included, thought you guys were the next Dag Nasty or Hüsker Dü . RR: Dean

After you guys released Nouns you really exploded. Was that at all anticipated? RR: It seems like after Nouns came out a lot more

likes Dag Nasty and Hüsker Dü [Laughs].

people knew about us. A lot more people—way more people. And [sighs] I don’t know. It’s funny and cool and weird and awesome.

It’s so many things at the same time—it’s hard to put into words.

We didn’t start this band to be rock stars or something. Or do anything. We were just like, Let’s play music and make stuff. The fact that anyone cares is insane.

But you’ve got people guessing. Now I’m wondering if No Age is supposed to be the next My Bloody Valentine as opposed to punk revisionists. There’s this push and pull with your identity, I think largely because your output is so large. DS: Being the next Bloody

Do you guys consider yourselves rock stars? In terms of what a rock star is nowadays: trying to be a little bit revolutionary, trying to be underground, but getting music out there in an ethical way.

RR: I don’t know, man. That’s a good question. I think it’s up for

a definition. I think there’s enough attention being paid to people online. It seems that with YouTube, like, The Grape Lady’s a rock star, or “Chocolate Rain.” Those are rock stars. So the idea of getting a lot of attention from a lot of people very quickly happens more frequently. To become a rock star, it could be anyone with a website. But I don’t think anyone’s looking for big, posturing rock stars. I don’t think the role of rock star exists anymore.

Your new EP, Losing Feeling, demonstrates a more polished band.

Are you guys past the roots of what No Age began as? RR: I don’t

think when we started out that we wanted to necessarily be a lo-fi band, or start a lo-fi revolution or anything. That was probably the furthest thing. I could never have thought of anything like that— we were just working without a lot of money and without access to equipment. So, I think that the end product was something that sounded lo-fi and people defined it as such. We were never lo-fi for the sake of lo-fi. It was the material at hand. And we’re not trying to be hi-fi just to do the feedback-lash against the ears. We’re just trying to sound good. DS: I want to add that I think some things have to sound like lo-fi, you know? Each song kind of says what it should sound like when we’re writing it.

No Age is a big touring band. Earlier today I was watching video footage of the Lollapalooza set. Has becoming a festival staple that draws large audiences affected the way you make music? DS: We’re

still writing songs just for us. I haven’t really noticed us changing how we write songs—like this song will sound great to a million people, or this song will only sound great to ten people—I think we’re still writing songs that just sound good to us.

Losing Feeling’s last song, “You’re a Target” is really pop, with a verse-chorus-verse feel—Randy even breaks out a Smashing Pumpkins guitar lick in there. Not that you guys are becoming arena rock… RR: Well, Dean wants me to add that he hates Smashing

Pumpkins. He’s mouthing, “I hate Smashing Pumpkins!” So, I’ll

Valentine or the next Dag Nasty, and I know that you’re saying that loosely, but I feel that that is, to me, a compliment. I get really stoked on that. I think that I wouldn’t mind people thinking that.

But I feel that when a lot of people do that, they just rip off the band. I really try to think about what the band was doing at the time, and how it was different then. I think we’re trying to do something different.

When I think about hardcore music in the eighties—that music was so intense. And now it just sounds like whatever. You know My Bloody Valentine, when that came out it was like, Whoa, this is fucking weird. And you can’t totally rip that off, but you can find that spirit. It seems like if we’re ever trying to borrow an idea from someone, it’s less about sound and more about their spirit.

Another thing about the EP—not that your other releases are morose—it sounds more hopeful. Since this is the first bit of music you’ve released since the Obama Administration began, I wonder how much stuff, culturally and politically, has an effect on what you guys do and how you communicate No Age to your audience.

RR: I don’t think there was a conscious effort for it to be brighter

or darker. We sort of just have the luxury to be naive to all that.

We’re too close, you know, to see that. We’re just writing things that make sense to us at the time. We don’t take a lot into consideration when we’re writing, we’re just writing from where we are in our lives, or where we’re at in our own personal headspace.

You guys work all the time and your new release is called Losing Feeling. I figure you have got be getting burnt out. Does the music consciously or subconsciously relate to that? DS: The song “Losing

Feeling” is loosely about that. But, at the same time, The EP needed a title, so we just picked the first song.

You guys are still young. Are you sticking with No Age? Would you ever push it further than it needs to exist? RR: I don’t know. I think

we’re still having fun playing, touring, and writing songs. I think we’re still learning how to do it, so that it makes the most sense, so that we can still live a life. Outside of music, I think there are still other things we’re trying to do as No Age. But I think we’re in here for the long haul—we’ll do this as long as we can, as long as it’s still fun. I want to be one of the guys up there with the big beer gut and long beard, doing this when I’m thirty.

71

T O TALLY

R EATA R D E D

T he B allad of J immy L ee L indsey , J r .

B y A le x M oore • Photos by R ay L e g o

I N T E R AC TI V E CO N T E N T

“Everybody knows you never go full retard.” It was the best line Robert Downey, Jr. has ever delivered, if not his best movie, instructing Ben Stiller’s character on how to win an Oscar. “Dustin Hoffman, Rain Man—autistic, sure, but not retarded. Ask Sean Penn. I Am Sam—he went full retard, went home empty-handed. Never go full retard.”

Never go full retard. The line kept turning in my head as the plane approached Memphis, Tennessee, where I was to spend two days with Jimmy Lee Lindsey, Jr., better known as Jay Reatard, in his hometown.

First, there was the question of the extra “a.” It’s pronounced “Retard ”—no ifs, ands or buts about it—so what was the extra “a” doing in there? Was it his way of showing some restraint—of literally not going full retard?

Reatard’s career has of late been characterized by many superlatives, but restraint is not among them. When he learned recently that he was scheduled to perform in the corporate headquarters of Hot Topic, he protested not by canceling the appearance but by arriving dressed only in a Speedo and intentionally so drunk that he walked in, threw up, and passed out on the floor.

Or, I thought, maybe the mystery “a” was like the impeccable pop songs sealed just under the punk veneer of his new masterpiece, Watch Me Fall—deceptively simple songs that taunt you by making it look easy until you realize you damn well may be listening to the best rock tunes you’ve heard in a generation.

The truth is, as the plane touched down in Memphis I didn’t know what to expect—and Jay Reatard likes it that way. “I enjoy when there’s a distance between what something means and how it appears,” he’d later tell me. Reatard is an artist willing to go full retard and then some—to both fulfill your lowbrow punk expectations and subvert them with utter songwriting mastery; to cleave you with that which you most want from rock and roll and that which you never saw coming.

Which, of course, is what all the fuss is about—Reatard’s recent prodigious outpourings for Matador Records (Singles ’06-’07, Singles ’08, and now Watch Me Fall), have been lauded by everyone from DIY purists to The New York Times.

74

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

Driving to Reatard’s house in the swampy Memphis late afternoon (a particular humidity that Jay refers to as “hot coffee in your asshole”) I couldn’t help feeling a little nervous. As it turns out, I had every reason to. And thank god—finally someone is injecting a little rock back into rock and roll.

Jay Reatard’s adolescence was nothing like yours.

After spending his first years in a small town in Mississippi—“my town had, like, literally a few hundred people”—he wound up in Memphis after his parents divorced, where he happened to catch local favorites The Oblivians opening for Rocket From the Crypt.

It was a revelation. “They were so shitfaced on stage and having so much fun,” he says, “I was like, I can do this. This isn’t going to be impossible. If these guys can do it I can do it.”

He immediately set to work recording an album in his bedroom on a four-track recorder. He mailed the tape to Eric from the Oblivians, who quickly called back to say he wanted to release the album on his label, Goner Records. Within six months Jay had become Jay Reatard, and had dropped out of school to chase his rock and roll dreams. He was fifteen. And he never looked back.

Which is how, at twenty-nine and a relative newcomer to national attention, Reatard’s discography clocks in at well over twenty full-lengths. There were the initial records released with Goner as The Reatards, there was the time spent playing with his heroes The Oblivians, there was The Lost Sounds, into which he poured himself for six years along with then-girlfriend Alicja Trout. All this before he came full circle and decided to go back on his own to work on what became 2006’s Blood Visions, the first official full-length under the name Jay Reatard. Blood Visions, in addition to enjoying more national press, marked the start of an immensely productive period in which Reatard recorded and released singles relentlessly, often hand-packaging vinyl 45s by hand. The emerging torrent of song-craft flowing from Memphis led Matador to sign Reatard and compile these gems into the volumes Singles ’06-’07 and Singles ’08. Given Reatard’s penchant for contorted appearances, it’s likely no accident the titles of his

two major-label debuts read like greatest hits albums.

It’s a long history, whose entire span seems to come barreling into focus as I pull up to his house on an otherwise quiet block well outside the fray of downtown Memphis. Even from down the street there’s no mistaking which house is Reatard’s. The front porch is cluttered with air conditioners, discarded sinks, a giant cardboard box for trash, and more beers than you’d expect, at least for a Tuesday. From inside, the sound of Pantera’s early glam record Power Metal drifts out to the porch, where Reatard holds court in his signature frizzy mop and a sleeveless shirt. He is surrounded by friends—a group of young rock and roll lost boys who Reatard plays in side projects with, looks out for, and takes care of.

“I just bought this house,” he tells me, handing me a can of beer by way of greeting. “I just moved in yesterday and today— I’m paying these guys to move me out of the last house.” The last house, where he recorded Watch Me Fall and where he’s rehearsed with his band for the last few years, is a short drive away. “Man, it sucked, we practiced here for the first time last night and the cops showed up about four”—he means a.m. “The last neighborhood

Even from down the street there’s no mistaking which house is Reatard’s.

The front porch is cluttered with air conditioners, discarded sinks, a giant cardboard box for trash, and more beers than you’d expect, at least for a Tuesday. we could do whatever we wanted. But you move to a nice cracker neighborhood and people start calling the cops.” He makes a point of telling me that the cops were cool. They know him, he says, and they instructed him to write a note to the neighbors, telling them that he is a property owner on the block, that he runs his band as a business and that he tours the world, and that, basically, they should shut the fuck up.

Memphis is a small city of just over half a million people, and the circle in which Jay spends his time is a microcosm that revolves around Goner Records, the small record shop still operated by the former Oblivians and Goner record label owners. The shop, a formative part of Reatard’s musical identity, is a five-minute walk from his house. Everybody in this world knows everybody else and, lately, they especially know Jay—a fact he’s acutely conscious of.

As we walk the short distance to the restaurant he’s selected for dinner we pass a drum shop, where Jay tells me he just bought some new cymbals. “It’s weird—I go in there now and the guys know me.

They’ve always known me, but I was always this brat kid, and now they’re like, Oh shit, what’s up man?”

“I’ve been able to create in a vacuum until recently,” he says.

“And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid that that vacuum is opening up and I’m not able to make things in such an anonymous

78

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

way anymore.” But for all his expressed ambivalence about lost anonymity, he seems to feed off the attention of people, to derive energy from being at the center of his world.

I’ve agreed to pick up dinner, and when we get to where we’re going I’m a little shocked to find us at what has got to be the nicest restaurant in Memphis. Nothing I’d seen in our quick walk led me to believe there was anything like this in the vicinity. Jay looks totally at home in his ripped, sleeveless shirt. He tells me his drummer Billy Hayes and his girlfriend will be joining us, and, catching my expression at the place, nudges me and says, “They know me here—they’ll hook it up.”

But when our waiter comes over,—a big guy with a formidable moustache—he and Jay offer a tentative hello. “Oh shit, that’s awkward,” Jay says. “I’ve known that guy since we were kids.

He wanted to play drums in this band I’m playing in, but he didn’t make it to his audition and I haven’t talked to him since. That’s how I am—if you can’t be professional, I’m not gonna fucking deal with you.” Some people possess a kind of self-contained intensity that makes being on their good side the greatest place in the world, and being on their bad side markedly less pleasant—as he tells the story Retard’s eyes flash with that unmistakable zeal.

Drummer Billy Hayes, a jolly giant in a Frankenberry t-shirt, arrives with his girlfriend, and more stories about Jay’s volatility ensue. There was the spat with a former manager, who believed that Jay owed him ten thousand dollars. “I told him, ’You want fucking ten grand from me, I am going to get a dump truck and fill it with ten grand in nickels, and dump that shit in front of your office. You still want it?’” He continues, laughing, “I don’t know where I would have found the dump truck, or that many nickels, but I would have done it—believe me.” Or there was the time a fan found his way onto Jay’s bad side, kicking his beloved Flying-V guitar. Jay tackled the fan to the ground and used the V at the end of his guitar to pin him to the stage by his neck. “He was turning purple,” Reatard regales, “it was awesome. Somebody sent me a picture of it.”

The waiter returns and Jay surprises me by asking if they have a nice bottle of Prosecco. They don’t. But they have a nice Brut, and next thing I know there’s a bucket of ice and bottle of champagne on our table, which Jay and I split, for no apparent reason, on a Tuesday evening. “Let’s get out of here,” Jay says as we kick the bottle, and he’s already waiting outside when the bill comes. The waiter, it turns out, has not hooked it up.

Another short walk through Jay’s neighborhood finds us at a bar where Jay knows the bartender. “That guy was in the Grifters,” Jay tells me. “Remember them? On Sub Pop? They were insane.”

Some of Jay’s lost boys have met us at the bar, which is mostly empty otherwise. Patron Silver is flowing, and imported Belgian beer as viscous as molasses. Outside the bar, a couple of local kids congratulate Jay on his new record. One of them offers tentatively, “There’s a couple of really good, like, straight-up pop songs on there.” Not intending to sound like a wise-ass, but clearly a little drunk, I counter with, “Only a couple?”

Jay’s eyes light up and he nudges Billy. “That’s great—did you hear what he just said?” I’ve clearly hit a nerve. As much as he obliges to fulfill the role of the punk-rock prankster in chief for his generation, Reatard works doggedly, almost academically, to craft concise pop songs. “I like simple music,” he says, “—songs that are broken down to a few elements. A lot of people say, ‘You do that because you’re dumb.’ But it’s a choice. I’m trying to write something that you can immediately decide whether you like or not.”

“All right, go pay the bar tab and let’s get out of here,” he instructs me. And as quickly as I’ve fallen into his good graces, I fall right back out: apparently there is an issue with how much I’ve

WANT TO SEE SOMETHING REATARDED? Take a picture of this page ...

text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or email it to dt@mobot.com

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

tipped the bartender. “That guy fucking hooked us up, man­—what the fuck,” Jay implores me, as we all walk back to his house. I think maybe he’s kidding, but he’s most assuredly not. Billy intercedes on my behalf with a noncommittal, “Aw, come on…” The conversation drifts elsewhere but doesn’t really get back on track until we stop by a convenience store next to Jay’s house. “It’s cool,” he offers by way of absolution, “you can buy the next case of beer.” I do, and all is right in the world once more.

Jay’s new house is like a teenager’s dream clubhouse come true.

Sure he’s just moved in, but it’s rife with a chaos one suspects won’t change an iota no matter how long he lives here. There are clothes on the floor, guitars, ashtrays, and mountains of vinyl records in disarray, which spin on the record player constantly. On the mantle in his living room is a big pile of wadded-up cash, a biography of Adolph Hitler (“A joke,” he assures me, and he means it), and a skull that he’s pretty sure belonged to a dog. “This is disgusting—I gotta get rid of this,” he says, laughing. The skull was a gift from a girl he met at a local metal show. “There was this Mexican black metal band—they had all these skulls and actual animal parts. The best part was, after the show they wheeled off the animal parts and barbequed that shit in their backyard.”

As the evening wears on, more of his friends drift over and everyone gets more inebriated. Jay tells me there’s a guy down the block who sells whip-hits, in case that’s my thing. Someone has dragged the cardboard box that Jay’s new refrigerator came in onto the kitchen floor, and as hip-hop records spin we try our best break-dancing moves. I try a head-spin. At some point, looking to re-enact the chair-fighting scene from Gummo, Jay drags a white plastic chair into the kitchen and starts beating the shit out it, to high hilarity. Someone starts smashing it with a monkey wrench and Jay, going for the mother of all chair-fighting moves, climbs on top of his refrigerator, and like a pro wrestler lunging from the top rope, jumps off and body-slams the chair, smashing it.

It’s all in good fun until five minutes later, when shouts from the back yard reveal that one of the girls has dragged the chair just outside the house and managed, along with some miscellaneous debris, to set it on fire. It’s a brief but huge, dirty fire of burning plastic that we all manage to stomp out quickly, but not without fusing melted chair permanently to our sneakers. Jay is proud of his house—which he bought outright, with a single cashier’s check— and protective of his property. He’s pissed about the fire, and gives the girl a talking to, but he doesn’t stay mad long. “I told her I was gonna rip her fake fucking tits out,” he tells me, laughing.

Most of the friends who hang out at Reatard’s house are significantly younger than he is. “Maybe I’m immature,” he offers.

“Maybe I like hanging out with twenty year-old kids that like to have fun and play great music. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. It beats the hell out of hanging out with most people my age, who are just worried about typing on their fucking Dell and collecting their four hundred bucks a week or whatever they make at their job. That’s fair enough—they’re just trying to get by, too. But I don’t think those people understand me.”

Close to dawn I find my way back to my hotel to prep for the next day’s photo shoot. When we finally do connect the next day it’s around four p.m., and Jay is exhausted. After I left he found an all-night bar and stayed out until ten a.m. When photographer Ray Lego and I get to his house around five, we find Jay feeling lethargic and subdued. There are empty beers and discarded jeans on the floor, and the needle bumps at the end of a record that has finished playing but has sat spinning idly for hours. Jay revs himself up enough to come to life for our shoot, and, knees bouncing, insists on playing us one more track from a metal band he used to play with before we head out.

But his mood stays relatively somber throughout the day. Posing stoically in front of the Mississippi river for the camera, he offers out of nowhere, “This is a dead guy’s shirt.” “What?” I ask, not sure if I’ve heard him correctly. He tells me he found his house through someone his father knew—someone had died, and when Jay moved in there were still some items in the house. He found this tuxedo T-shirt, and liked it, so he kept it.

Reatard seems oddly both more sclerotic and more sensitive about death than most, possibly because he’s seen more of it than many people his age, and the subject comes up a few times throughout the day. He’s clearly upset over the recent loss of a friend who died of cancer, whose funeral he wanted to pay for, but who passed before Reatard could get the money to him. On the other hand, when DJ AM, ex-boyfriend of Mandy Moore, was recently found dead with an Adderall pill stuck to his tongue, Reatard’s reaction was to prank Ryan Adams, Moore’s current husband and his friend, by emailing a photo of himself playing dead, complete with a dummy pill stuck to his dangling tongue.

“I like simple music. A lot of people say, ‘You do that because you’re dumb.’ But it’s a choice. I’m trying to write something that you can immediately decide whether you like or not.”

But it’s the paradox of juxtaposing forces that makes Reatard’s work as an artist so interesting. That evening finds us back at the house where he recorded Watch Me Fall, which is mostly boxed up, closing out a phase in his life. “The whole ‘watch me fall’ thing is sarcastic in a sense that it’s the first record I’ve made that felt therapeutic,” he explains. He tells me he got sober for ten months working on the record. “It sounds cheesy, but I feel this record literally saved my life.”

Going sober for ten months was a risky personal move, one that completely upended his social life. “You find out who your real friends are,” he says. “Almost everyone disappeared on me. So I’ve befriended new people. The people I hang out with now I haven’t known for a super long time, but I feel that they’re less judgmental than some of the other people I was hanging out with. You surround yourself with people you like, and I don’t like a lot of people.”

We wrap up our evening and Ray and I give Jay a ride to the bar where he left his car, the band van, four days ago—at least he hopes like hell that’s where it is, otherwise he’s got no idea where it could be. He’s got more friends to meet (promises to keep, and miles to go before he sleeps, and all that) and on the way out we talk about what he hopes people will get out of his music. “I want to make records that for thirty-five minutes make people feel good. No big goal other than that.” And then, stoking those contradictions he relishes, adds coyly that he wouldn’t mind challenging listeners, too. “If I can’t make people think by playing too many notes, maybe I can confuse them by writing a pop song about killing yourself.”

As I’ve learned by now, he’s kidding. Kind of. The one thing I’m sure of is that Jay Reatard has got energy to burn. He’s got more love for his music than he can contain, and it doesn’t seem like his prolific streak is going to slow down anytime soon. He’s got a new house and studio to set up, new neighbors to charm and new cops to befriend. Jay Reatard is a man on a mission, and he’s just getting started.

81

björk Iconic goddess of futurism, Björk came into her own precisely at the moment the Internet first found its way into households and cell phones first became accessible to the masses. While she had been cranking out enviable music in Iceland since the age of eleven—first with a precocious solo record and then with The Sugarcubes—1993 marked Björk’s move to London and the release of Debut, a self-reinvention that changed the landscape of pop.

In its janky dial-up form the information age had arrived, communication had suddenly become constant, and Björk arrived as a beacon, heralding the way forward into the twenty-first century.

Debut was released in the same year as Radiohead’s Pablo Honey. While the latter is generally acknowledged as “preenlightenment” Radiohead, Debut still sounds decidedly twenty-first century, sixteen years after its release.

1997’s Homogenic featured a shiny silver cover, a futuristic hair-do, and songs filled with electronic subterfuge that nineteennineties minds could barely comprehend.

And then there was the Swan suit. As she her music flew light years into the future so did her wardrobe. What started with the swan suit morphed into the bright emblematic styles of some twenty-second century science-fiction cult, prompting us all to ask, “Where the hell did Björk come from?” Answer: the future.

Funny thing about the future—we’re obsessed with it, but it never really seems to come. Or, that is, it’s always coming at us in increments so small we barely notice it. Last we checked none of us were driving flying cars or beaming up to work. But every once in a while we’re graced with people so ahead of their time they really do push our world palpably into the future. The following portfolio celebrates a few of our favorite hyper-advanced future people.

Where would we be without them? We don’t wanna know.

2012

M The Mayans Ancient Future People Haven’t read one of the many books detailing the Mayan prediction that the world will end in 2012? Don’t bother. Quetzalcoatl ain’t coming back. That said, the Mayans were some highly evolved thinkers, dabbling in astronomy, social welfare, mathematics, and architecture. They were so smart they even predicted the world’s end. 2012 is basically Y2K on steroids. Instead of a computer systems crash that would throw a wrench in the matrix, the sun is going to align with the center of The Milky Way or something and energy is going to—whatever, it doesn’t make any sense. But it’s selling books like hotcakes and it got John Cusack acting again, so yeah man, let’s roll with it.

Terraforming Life on Mars (There May be a Starbucks) The planet Earth: It’s big, it’s blue, it’s beautiful, and we may have to bail. Stephen Hawking thinks so.

“The long-term survival of the human race is at risk as long as it is confined to a single planet,” he said. “Sooner or later, disasters such as an asteroid collision or nuclear

war could wipe us all out.” Yeesh. The man has point, though he’s not cosmically pessimistic about our survival. He just thinks we’ll have to inhabit other planets.

So how do we make other planets like ours? Terraforming.

In the case of Mars, that means heating the planet

up—purposeful global warming—to unleash the water alleged to be under the planet’s surface, eventually creating an atmosphere that could be safe for human inhabitants.

Imagine there was a war with Mars like there was between the U.S. and Britain?

Viva la revolución!

nuclear propulsion “When this baby hits 88 miles per hour, you’re gonna see some serious shit.”

Want to go into deep space? You need that thrust, baby! But we outlawed nuclear explosions in outer space during the Cold War (the DOD thought the Russians were going to perform nuclear-weapon tests behind the moon). As a result, super-distance interstellar space travel went kaput. Oh hey, did you hear we’re going back to the moon? Booooring.

83

Lady GaGa

The future is… hermaphrodites?

One year ago an incredible thing happened in America: future-person Lady GaGa arrived from Planet Gewgaw, circa the 22nd century AD. This particular time surfer made a splash with her pop album The Fame, which is actually a series of fourteen innuendos for what we presently call “slutting it up.” Like anyone you’d expect from the future, Lady GaGa gets spotted worldwide in unbelievable menageries of high-tech clothes—not a lot of clothes, of course, but they’re advanced. What she does wear, from latex thong leotards to plastic bubble suits, is future-forward, or future-retrospective—it’s confusing.

And recently, certain video footage has captured evidence of her advanced, Human 2.0 physiology: Lady GaGa has both genetalia.

Carl Sagan Universal High

C

arl Sagan is our favorite pot-smoking,

religion-hating futurist. He possessed a see-between-the-trees brilliance illustrated by his alchemy of morality and science, his conviction that other life exists, and his flare as a public figure. Carl Sagan had sass, and was a hell of a teacher.

When he wasn’t writing books about the solar system simple enough for us plebeians to read, he was busy advocating that human beings disrupt life on our own planet as little as possible. He was an outspoken critic of the use of nuclear weapons during the eighties and popularized the notion of nuclear winter. His most penetrating statement, “we are star stuff,” changed the way human beings thought of themselves—that the same tiny specks of existence that animate the stars and planets animate us as well.

We’re still playing catch up with that.

JÓnsi Birgisson Speaking the language of the future

L

ike his Icelandic countrymen, Jónsi Birgisson embodies the otherworldliness and progressivism that are the hallmarks of future people. Starting with their 1997 debut

Von and especially with the revelatory Ågætis Byrjun two years later, Sigur Rós self-defined a universe seemingly without precedent. Guitars were played with bows and made to sound like space-instruments. And as if the Icelandic language weren’t alien sounding enough, Jónsi jettisoned actual lyrics altogether, believing words are too literal a vessel to contain the ineffable meaning of their music.

Instead he sang in a made-up language whose syllables, inspired spontaneously by the sounds of the music, he calls Hopelandic. The result is pure anachronism: watching Sigur Rós perform is like teleporting to the last scene in Bill And Ted’s Excellent Adventure—to a future in which there is no judgment, total acceptance, pure utopia. Jónsi Birgisson, blind in one eye, openly gay, the ethereal arbiter of a utopian future, is the Rufus in this scenario, incanting a plea for us to “be excellent to each other”—in Hopelandic.

84

S E P T/ O C T 2 0 0 9

Buckminster Fuller

B

A Dymaxion Brain

Born in 1895, Buckminster Fuller was a twenty-first century thinker living in the twentieth century. Fuller was acutely aware of the limited supply of natural resources like fossil fuels, demonstrating an almost preternatural prescience about the problems that would confront the industrialized world a century later.

Fuller foresaw the intersection of ever-increasing world population with ever-dwindling natural resources for the clusterfuck it is, and set his considerable brain power to solving these problems before they started. In a principle he called “ephemeralization,” he basically invented recycling. He envisioned a future that he called “Spaceship Earth,” in which people lived better by using less. He invented a hyper-efficient architectural structure called the geodesic dome where future people would live, a hyper-aerodynamic car for future people to drive, and a bunch of other stuff that we can still barely understand. One of the most influential futurists, we’d probably be much better off if we’d followed Fuller’s blueprints for Spaceship Earth.

MORE FUTURE

85

Tiny Atlas of.......

Vint Cerf Internet Pioneer

Thought Al Gore invented the Internet? Think again.

It was this guy. Perhaps no one has done more to push the modern world into the future than Vint Cerf, the man most commonly credited as the inventor of the Internet.

Cerf was one of a team of

inventers

working

at

DARPA, the cloak-and-dagger division of the Pentagon that has yielded many military-

Albert Einstein

turned-civilian

inventions,

such as GPS. Founded in 1958 in response to advances in Russian military technology, DARPA’s is

to

stated push

mission

technological

capabilities into the future.

After working as a systems engineer for IBM, Cerf got his masters and PhD degrees

30th Century Man

from UCLA and wound up

We’re Convinced Albert Einstein—or Captain Future, as we like to call him— came from a time in the distant future. He probably did more than anyone to advance the capacity of human thought. But what we really love about him is that he was also kind of a delinquent. He didn’t really take to school, dropping out of one as a teenager and failing his entrance exam to Polytechnical school. Sure, he started calling Euclid’s Elements the “holy little geometry book” when he was ten and wrote his first work, “Investigation of the State of Aether in Magnetic Fields,” when he was sixteen, but in the distant future that we’re sure he traveled from all that stuff was probably crazy remedial. The famous anecdote about Einstein realizing the special theory of relativity and the speed of light all at once on a city bus was probably just to cover up the fact that in the year 3500 that stuff is just eighth-grade math. We like to think of Einstein as a James Dean from the future, rebelling with a cause—to smarten up the rest of us plebeians.

ARPANet

86

nov / dec 2 0 0 9

at DARPA, where he was the point man in converting early technology

into

what we now know as the Internet, forever altering the course of human history. His one regret about the Internet?

Porn. He told Esquire last year, “I was disappointed that pornography got to the Net. But I’ve come to learn that pornographers

are

almost

always the first ones to adopt new technology.”

Designing the Future:

1

The Venus Project Headquartered at a twenty-one acre facility in Venus, Florida, Jaque Fresco and Roxanne Meadows have quietly been designing a radical new future for humanity for the past thirty years. In their version of the future, money does not exist, yet there is more abundance and better technology than ever before. They foresee no crime, no pollution and no government. Sound crazy? Think again.

The more technology increases automation the less we need human labor, which is the thing that’s supposed to keep us all employed. The Venus Project interprets this as a good thing. Why? Roxanne Meadows: The Venus Project offers a fresh approach that reverses the negative aspects experienced in our current applications of automation and artificial intelligence.

As computers and artificial intelligence continue to evolve through environmental feedback, computers can arrive at more appropriate decisions in the operation of our social system. Today, automated systems can launch and guide the flight path of spaceships to distant planets. In a cybernated society, we will ultimately surpass the need for human participation in government, manufacturing, and distribution of goods and services. This will free human beings from the boring and monotonous tasks of the work-a-day world.

Yes, most jobs will eventually be phased out.

This can only be achieved within a resource-based economy in which the planetary resources are held as the common heritage of all the earth’s inhabitants. The current practice of rationing resources through monetary methods is irrelevant, counter-productive, and falls far short of meeting humanity’s needs.

Isn’t the idea of eliminating money and thus ownership dangerously close to the failed socialist and communist experiments of the twentieth century?

3

2

Clockwise from top: 1. A futuristic city as envisioned by the Venus Project. No jobs, no money in the whole damn town! 2. Someone’s future crib 3. Visionary futurist and Venus Project founder Jaque Fresco at headquarters in Venus, Florida.

“The Venus Project’s aim is to surpass the need for the use of money.”

Socialism and communism are political systems managed by an ideology that does not necessarily relate to human or environmental needs. They have money, banks, armies, police, prisons, social stratification, are managed by appointed leaders and use indoctrination. The Venus Project’s aim is to surpass the need for the use of money. Police, prisons and the military would no longer be necessary when goods, services, healthcare, and education are available to all people.

What would keep people motivated without the incentive for wealth? We feel that our proposals will generate a new incentive system. The free-enterprise system does

create incentive to achieve, however it also breeds the incentive for corruption, theft, and greed. Our aim is to encourage a new incentive system, one no longer directed toward the shallow and self-centered goals of wealth, property, and power. In The Venus Project, money would not be required to help one achieve or create, as facilities would be made available to serve everyone’s needs.

You are described as futurists. How far into the future do you see the vision of The Venus Project becoming a reality? We really do not know the answer to this because we don’t control these variables. But it is not up to us—it depends on what others do to help bring it about.

87

Robert Zemeckis

James Cameron Ridley Scott These men are gods of film. So how did they, and the rest of their buddies in eighties, manage to get the future so wrong?

T he

FUTURE W

BY STEPHEN BLACKWELL

hen I think about what the future will look like my brain instantaneously directs itself to memories I have of movies from the eighties.

It just pops in there—kind of like when Dan ng o r Aykroyd conjures the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. (See!) All W Twenty-nine years ago, at the start of what I assume we collectively agree was America’s weirdest decade, our country was far from the world’s lone superpower. We still flirted with the specter of war with Russia, though mutually assured destruction was, thankfully, totally sixties. By the eighties, the concept of spiritual growth over material gain had vanished thanks to, in no particular order, Charles Manson, cheap Mexican labor, and China. In the meantime, our entertainment obsession had become supercharged, and our entertainers were obsessed with making movies about aliens and robots and spaceships and the future, sure because guys like Stephen Hawking and Carl Sagan had become cultural magnates, but also because Star Wars made so much money you had to get in on it.

So why isn’t George Lucas’s name up there in big bold letters like the rest of the guys?

Because George was smart enough to create a future that occurred a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. For the rest, the future happened here on Earth, right about now. Boy, were they wrong about how things turned out.

89

ROBOCOP D i r ected by Paul Verhoe ven Released in 1987 | Takes Place in 2015

“He’s a cyborg, you idiot.”

Robocop. The title doesn’t exactly scream “profound existential allegory regarding technological advancement and its impact on humanity.” Instead, it summons the image commonly associated with the film and found on every poster advertising the series: a large robotic man with a gun.

To be sure, Robocop is a great film. Yeah, the stop animation on the ED-209 (more on him later) is fairly tragic, but twenty-two years later it hasn’t lost any of its oomph. As a matter of fact, one of the reasons Officer Murphy undergoes his robotic metamorphosis is to harness weapons too powerful for human use, the central theme of the epic District 9. But for all the film’s successes, it does an outsize job of incorrectly forecasting the future.

Of all the films I’ve covered here, Robocop is the least futuristic. It’s aggressively un-futuristic.

It’s like VerHoeven didn’t even care it took place in the future. I understand the backdrop is Detroit, but did everyone have to drive beat-up Ford Econolines and Taureses from the 1987 line?

Couldn’t they have pulled a Back To The Future and at least tried to get imaginative with the cars? And the cops. They wear gigantic padded vests—a staple eighties portent of the future— and helmets with clear visors. They all look like Mega Man. Yet, even with their newfangled cop armor, they’re no match for the machines.

Robocop himself is heavy duty. He lives off of a “rudimentary paste that sustains his organic system” (much like Michael Jackson did, god rest his soul) and has all sorts of goodies like X-ray vision, which allows him to shoot a guy in the dick through a woman’s skirt while the scoundrel attempts to rape her.

The ED-209, Robocop’s futuristic tank nemesis, is a large clumsy autonomous weapon that roars like a lion and talks like a large black man. Robocop fights it once and wins, because the ED-209, being the stupid piece of clay it is, can’t run down stairs. Robocop outsmarts it by doing just that, and the point of the film becomes alarmingly clear: Human beings will always be smarter than machines. Does everybody get it?

Other things the film gets wrong People still use Polaroids Doors fly open with the touch a button Something the film got right Robocop has a GPS on him so he can be tracked at all times, just like you with that iPhone in your pocket.

90

nov / dec 2 0 0 9

T he

FUTURE rong A ll W

Back To The Future 2 D i r ected By Robert Z emeckis Released in 1989, some of the film takes place in 1985, some in 2015

“What happens to us in the future? What, do we become assholes or something?”

Oh, Marty, you have no idea. But the above question is not some futurist abstraction; it’s what Marty McFly asks Doc when he drops in from the year 2015, where he apparently purchased a bright yellow satin cape and those piece-of-shit reflective goggles. It’s Marty and Jennifer’s kids, you see.

They’ve got to go back to the future to save them.

The DeLorian has been modded to 2015 standards: i.e., not only have we invented cold fusion technology by then, but we’ve harnessed it to run our cars. Thanks to its Mr. Fusion tank, the car now runs on banana peels, soda cans, and whatever else you can find in the trash. And did I say runs? I meant flies! I’m looking forward to hooking up my Jetta with all this fun stuff in six years.

When they make it to the future, Marty keeps his cool, although he’s slightly stunned by the “skyway.”

He asks a reasonable question: “Doc, when are we?”

What a douche time traveler thing to say!

Jennifer, on the other hand, can’t handle the reality of the situation. Since they don’t have Xanax or rufees in 2015 (?), Doc relies on his trusty sleepinducing alpha-rhythm emulator to knock her out.

Shortly thereafter, when he’s pulling off his face, Doc reveals he’s visited a rejuvenation clinic that has added forty years to his life, and that he got an awesome hand job during the procedure*.

The rest of the future is bonkers. Einstein, Doc’s dog, has the brash appearance of a spry young pup—mainly because he’s spent the past thirty years in a suspended-animation kennel. Marty dons a pair of Nike high-tops that tie themselves and a jacket that mechanically conforms to his body. And lets not forget the hoverboards. I want everyone to think about how disappointing it is that there are no hoverboards (nor will there be by 2015). Of all the crazy shit in this movie, this is the one thing that when I was a kid I was positive we would actually get in the future. What do we get instead? Metrocards.

Anyway, does anyone actually remember why Doc and Marty are friends in the first place?

It doesn’t make any sense. That said, if a crazy old man rolled up in a flying car and asked you to travel to the future with him, would you? I would.

If not, then I’d be a chicken. And nobody calls me a chicken. *Author speculation

BLADE RUNNER

“We’re not computers, Sebastian. We’re physical.”

D irected by R idley S cott Released in 1982 | Takes Place in 2019 At least they explain the future to you right off the bat. You see, early in the twenty-first century, the period you and I live in, robot evolution has exceeded our expectations.

It all started out with Nintendo’s R.O.B., who really took Gyromite to the next level, and seems to have been perfected by the Nexus 6 Replicants who we use mostly for Off-world stuff—mainly slave labor, planet colonization, and soapy massages.

The film takes place in Los Angeles in 2019.

As you can see, there’re fires everywhere, so it must be summer. Now, I’ve never been a fan of Southern California’s architecture, but I have to admit, these spaceship temples they got going on are pretty rad. I heard it’s not just office space, either. They got a pool in there, some bowling lanes, an Equinox—I mean, really, who says there’s nothing to do downtown?

Over the course of the next ten years, something will go terribly wrong with L.A.’s sunny climate. It rains in Blade Runner all of the

TERMINATOR

time, and Burberry are making a killing selling these light-up umbrellas.

Unlike Terminator, Blade Runner’s bad guys, the Replicants, are autonomous, thoughtful, and really, really freaky looking. They also suffer from accelerated decrepitude, a condition Lindsay Lohan took ill with in 2006, which causes bio-mechanized life forms to die early, so to not pose a threat to humanity.

There’s plenty of dialogue between Han Solo and the Replicants, the gist being we’re all going to die so why should we kill each other?

Can’t we all get along? And if biomechanical beings think, feel, and choose, but don’t go to heaven, what makes you think humans do?

Nothing lasts. Shit. Now I’m depressed.

Things it got wrong It’s L.A., but there isn’t a Jack-In-The-Box in sight.

“They don’t advertise for killers in a newspaper.” Of course not, there won’t be newspapers in 2019.

Something it got right You’ll never escape the coke ads.

T he

FUTURE

“I’ll be back.”

A ll Wro

D irected by JA M E S C A M E R O N Takes place in 1984, though the future stuff is from 2027 Kyle Reese’s flashback to the future is the only glimpse of what’s to come according to director James Cameron, but it’s probably my favorite future scene, for nothing more than the fact that the warring factions actually shoot lasers. That’s what I’m talking about! Take Robocop, for comparison’s sake—you’re trying to tell me that they could build a Robocop but he still has to shoot a handgun? C’mon guys, laser beams are where it’s at, and Cameron was the only guy with enough imagination to put it in his movie.

So what’s in store for us in the next seventeen years? Scary stuff. We’ve built cybernetic warrior assassins. They have indestructible interiors but fleshy exteriors so they look human, just like Anna Wintour. On top of that, they’re employed by an artificially intelligent computer-defense system that 1) became aware even though it has no soul, and 2) wants to kill all humans because— well, the makers of the film didn’t think it was important to explain that.

The best thing about the future in Terminator is the time travel. You don’t need a silly machine; all you need is some fancy time-displacement equipment that blasts you back to whenever you’re going courtesy of some blue lightning. The only bummer is you gotta go nude. Oh my god, wouldn’t it be totally embarrassing if you time traveled and accidentally showed up at a party buck naked with a raging boner? Ewwwww—party foul!

91

ng

OF THE

PHOT O BY NE AL

PR ESTON

We’re all Guitar Heroes Nowadays.

Well, not exactly. We’re all phony guitar heroes. Fakes. We’re as synthetic as those teeny plastic guitars from Rock Band. You ever see anybody “show off” playing a guitar video game? It’s funny and sad, like watching a little baby bird trying to fly.

We’d like to point out it wasn’t always like this. Folks used to shred. For real.

The following is a showcase of those individuals. Sadly, some of them did not survive the eighties, but guitarists like Marnie Stern shine a bright light on the future of guitar. The will to shred lives!

H A MMER OF T HE G ODS

Most Finger Licking solo

NIG E L T U F NE L

Whole Lotta Love

K E Y S T a t i st i c s Other Names : Christopher Guest Singing Capability : 7 (out of 11) Crotch Factor To the max (with prosthetic pickle) Womanizing Ability: Excellent. No woman can resist such a deep love of Gumby Drugs : High fructose corn syrup

JIMM Y P A G E

Most finger lickin’ soLO Machine Gun

Religion: Astrology Flirts With Devil? : Only if she’s got a big bottom

JIMI HE NDR I X

Build: Compact Classic Record : Bitch School K E Y S T a t i st i c s

Star Sign: Aquarius

Other Names : Zoso

Icon Status : Perfected the art of turning up amps. Eleven, after all, is one more than ten.

Singing Capability : -7

Greek God Equivilant: Apollo

Crotch Factor : Very British Womanizing Ability: We know a guy whose mom slept with him.

Drugs : All

Most finger lickin’ SOLO

Stonehenge

K E Y S T a t i st i c s Other Names : Jimmy James Singing Capability : +7 Crotch Factor : Well-endowed Womanizing Ability: There has only been one Electric Ladyland. That’s in his Pants.

Religion: Argenteum Astrum

Drugs : LSD, Cannibus, Amphetamine

Flirts With Devil? You ever read the lyrics to “The Battle of Evermore”?

Religion: Animism

Build: Svelte and delicious

Flirts With Devil? Honey, the devil flirts with him.

Classic Record : Led Zeppelin IV

Build:Slim

Icon Status: Somewhere in the Midwest a kid is learning how to play the solo in “Heartbreaker” right now

Classic Record : Are You Experienced?

Greek God Equivalent : Athena

Icon Status: The Second Coming Greek God Equivalent : Dionysus

94

N ov / dec 2 0 0 9

BILLY CORGA N

Y ngwie Malmsteen

K E Y S T a t i st i c s K E Y S T a t i st i c s Other Names : The Pope of Mope Other Names : Lars Johan Yngve Lannerbäck

Singing Capability : +6

Singing Capability : -10

Crotch Factor : The truth often remains behind a black dress

Crotch Factor Tootsie Roll curse!

Womanizing Ability:He has had his way with many, many stewardesses Drugs : Gave up drugs and alcohol a few years ago.

Religion: People from Stockholm don’t believe in anything Flirts With Devil? : Watch “Arpeggios From Hell” on YouTube now

Womanizing Ability: He dated Courtney Love. Gross!

Most finger lickin’ soLO

Baluchitherium

EDDIE VA N H A LEN

K E Y S T a t i st i c s Axe’s Name : Frankenstrat

Icon Status : He’s a cartoon in Guitar Hero, but who isn’t these days?

Singing Capability : +2

Most Finger Licking solo Black Star

Flirts With Devil? : Even ardent fans consider Zwan to be something unholy

Classic Record : Siamese Dream

Star Sign: Aquarius

Greek God Equivilant: Atlas

Religion: Transcendentalism

Build: Popsicle stick

Build: Kinda fat for a guitar god Classic Record : Rising Force

Drugs : You better not—not in his band

Crotch Factor : Colossus of Rhodes Womanizing Ability: Tender and sensitive

Star Sign: Pisces Icon Status : He’s no Kurt Cobain…

Greek God Equivilant: Who’s the god of irritability and fascism?

Most Finger Licking solo Quiet

Drugs : Only homeopathic Religion: A closet Hari Krishna Flirts With Devil? : “Eruption”—the singular enemy of polar icecaps Build: Sprightly Classic Record : 1984 Star Sign: Aquarius Icon Status : Father of the flying kick.

Popularized guitar tapping for the masses Greek God Equivilant: Hermes

95

H A MMER OF T HE G ODS

Marnie Stern

F or T h o s e A b o u t To R o c k , S h e S a l u t e s Y o u

Guitar’s reigning queen, Marnie Stern, came down to the Death+Taxes office to shred some leads (for your listening pleasure) drink some coffee, and school us on guitar acrobatics done right

By Stephen Blackwell | Photo By Elizabeth Weinberg

How old were you when you started playing guitar? Fifteen.

I took three lessons, and then I just strummed a little. But when I was twenty I started taking it seriously again.

What do you mean by “seriously”? Well I finished

college a year early, and I thought you had to do something respectable for a living. I didn’t know you were really allowed to do whatever you wanted. And I had always wanted to do music, so I just started doing it.

starting, and maybe All Music Guide was just starting, and it would say, “If you like this, listen to this.” And someone said, “Oh, there’s a band called Sleater Kinney,” and I thought they were really underground.

[Laughs] So for years I was in the very popular indie rock world. And then I just kept playing and playing and playing, and I would go to all the different labels and listen to all the different stuff—it was a lot of research until I found the weirder stuff. And then I got hooked on that stuff for a long time.

What did you do in college?

Journalism. I was very bad at it.

Did you play through college, too? No. And journalism—I

liked reading all different papers every day, but that was all I liked.

What were some of the records that got you into guitar playing?

Well, growing up, my family played classic rock—so a lot of Bruce Springsteen and the Who and the Allman Brothers.

And I had no taste in music. I had no clue, I had no idea—I just listened to the radio. And so then I knew, obviously, that there was good stuff out there, and the Internet was just

96

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9

What was some of the weirder stuff? Boredoms, Ruins,

Deerhoof, Hella, Lightning Bolt.

Hella and Lightning Bolt have a lot of wild guitar work—is that what got you into trying to make songs based around lead riffs? It was always,

Make a song. That’s the only way I could practice or else I would get too bored. That’s why I never learned anyone else’s stuff, because it was too boring. Even with the “Eruption” thing [We asked Marnie to play Van Halen’s “Eruption” at the office—she blew it]. But I always wanted to make songs. Even when I was fifteen or twenty when I was just messing around, that was the whole idea. But when you sit every day and you’re playing

I N T E R AC TI V E CO N T E N T

your instrument, you want to get good at it. And I started hearing these bands where the players were so good.

What was the moment you discovered tapping? It wasn’t

a moment. I didn’t even know that’s what it was called. I didn’t listen to Van Halen.

I think that’s why it ended up being so weird, because it wasn’t like I knew what it was. I was listening to Don Caballero, and I just wanted to know what it was. And because of math rock I didn’t understand that it was tapping because I thought of it in a different way. Plus I have no proper history of music, and I didn’t know the evolution and how it had gone from this to this to this. I saw a video in some club, and Don Cab was over there and I couldn’t see what [guitarist] Ian Williams was doing, I just saw both hands were like this. [Mimes her hands around a guitar neck] And I was like, Both hands?

And that’s how I started doing it. But I didn’t know it was tapping. I was not doing it in that way—I was doing it in a percussive way, like Kaki King does it. Like, Down here, up here, boom boom boom—just messing around.

When you started being heralded as a virtuoso guitar player, a lot of hardcore metal fans said people only liked you because you’re a girl. How do you feel about that? That

was very difficult. Like, She can’t fucking play, she can’t shred. That’s another problem.

Where do you go but down from there, you know? I don’t come from the metal world— that’s not my family. I’m two generations after people who listened to metal. I try to write good songs. I figure the better you are at whatever you play the better your songs will be.

And maybe that’s not always true, but that’s all I really care about, is writing a good song. The Boss is a good guitar player, but it’s all about his songs, and that’s the way I wish it was. Maybe I need to write better songs. [Laughs] Do metal kids show up at your shows? No, I get noise kids

who think it’s going to sound like Hella, and then they’re like, This fucking sucks. And then I get a lot of blog people who think that it’s good because they’re told it’s good, but then they hear it and they don’t get it. Then I get a lot of girl power, which is good. And then dudes who are like, Show me your tits! Tons of that.

WANT TO WATCH MARNIE STERN SHRED A WICKED LEAD? Take a picture of this page ... text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or email it to dt@mobot.com

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

Fall black is the new

( and white )

P hoto G R A P H Y by T om H ines

Who says fall fashion has to be all about brown corduroy and burnt orange sweaters? For Jona Bechtolt and Claire Evans of Yacht, it’s all about black and white, all the time. The Portland, Oregon electro-pop duo has designated themselves a “visual” band, and the premise of the video for “Summer Song” revolves around their pristine black-and-white attire getting interrupted by buckets of bright paint being dumped on their heads. Bechtolt and Evans know what they like—black and white—and judging by all the praise for their new record See Mystery Lights, we think they’re on to something.

Fashion coordinator: Annette Lamothe-Ramos • Styling by Dustin McSwane • Make-up & Grooming by Kumi Craig for Zirh • Hair by Joshua Farrington for Rita Hazan Salon • Styling assistant: Sarah Bassett • Photo intern: Silvana Lagos

98

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9 M U S I C

On Claire: Trench-coat by Samantha Pleet Mesh Leggings by Clu Hat by KZO Earrings by DLC On Jona: Coat by Kaylee Tankos “Ottoman” leggings

by Alexander Wang Watch by Casio

Cotton voile pullover shirt by S2VS Bracelet by Delphine-Charlotte Parmentier Bracelet by Topman Ring by Moonlight Gemstones

Dress by Monrow Necklace by Tomato Ognashi Earrings by DLC Ring by Topman

Blouse by Alexander Koutny Zip Leggings by Under.Ligne Sunglasses: Claire’s own Bow tie necklace by Topman Earrings by DLC

Sleeveless shirt and Asymetrical zip jacket by Odyn Vovk Trousers by H&M Shoes by Keep

Jacket by Top Man Sleeveless T by Y-3 Linen painted trousers by Odyn Vovk Ring by DLC (Dirty Librarian Chains) Necklace by DLC (Black Metal collection)

Lace and mesh catsuit

by Gemma Kahng Sneakers by Nike Earrings by DLC

This page: Button down shirt by Soe Shirts.

Tokyo Jeans by Acne Shoes by D I D (Double Indemnity Dock)

Opposite: On Claire: Cotton voile blouse by Cheap Monday Raw silk jumpsuit by Samantha Pleet Earrings by DLC Rosary necklace and Cross Necklace (worn as belt)

by Topman On Jona: Mesh Skirt by Gemma Khang Convertible necklace

by Cheek-ie

Agent Provocateur

Jonath a n

Ames For the celebrated author and creator of the new HBO show Bored to Death, the double life is twice as good.

By Max Goldblatt • Photos By Bryan Sheffield

T

hey’d given me his number so I called him.

I was getting coffee and did he want any? He was set with caffeine, he said, but he could use some food. Could I get him a bagel or an English muffin?

I pictured a rail-thin Jonathan Ames, starving and alone. How I wanted to help him!

Jonathan Ames has created Bored To Death for HBO, which stars Jason Schwartzman as Jonathan Ames, a writer by day, and well-intentioned yet hapless pseudo-detective by night. The show follows in the grand tradition of such untraditional Raymond Chandler interpretations as Elliot Gould’s Marlowe in Altman’s The Long Goodbye and the Coen brothers’ surrogate-Marlowe, The Dude. Zach Galifianakis and Ted Danson also star and, as you can imagine, this is an extremely funny show.

Ames also has a new book of short pieces out, entitled The Double Life Is Twice As Good (which features the source material for the show) wherein his “too ridiculous to be true” non-fiction and his “too personal to be made-up” fiction solidify his place as the Werner Herzog of contemporary literature.

Ames is the guy I tell my friends to read and then I judge them based on their response to his work. I identify with his words: anxiety about hair loss, awkward sexual escapades, scatological follies. He writes like your best friend, confiding in you. But with Ames these neurotic confessions pose subtle and poignant questions about identity, self-acceptance and the human condition. All this from a guy with a story called “I Shit My Pants In The South Of France.”

English muffins in hand, I entered the tiny fourth-floor walkup

108

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9

he was renting in Venice, CA. Ames is a longtime New Yorker and this was almost a New York apartment, save for the perfect view of the Pacific. We noshed and we talked as the waves crashed in the distance.

JA: You know what you could use? There’s this goat cheese butter over there.

You recommend it? Yeah, it’s good. And the butter that they gave

you may have melted.

So the story on which the pilot of Bored to Death is based is in the new book, but it’s very dark, much darker than the show. How did you get from that story to this show?

There was this producer and there still is this producer—it’s not past tense—named Sarah Condon. She was meeting writers in New York, just seeing who might have something: like a fishing expedition. I didn’t have high hopes for my connection to Hollywood, but I went on the meeting and she says, “What have you been working on lately?” and I said, “You know, I wrote this short story that I think would make a great Noir film, maybe it could also make a TV show.” And I told her the premise and she was intrigued so we started talking about it and it was like Let’s turn this into a comedy, because my stuff is mostly comedic. She was like, Come up with a world for the guy. So I was just like, All right, gotta make a world, gotta make some friends, that’s the usual, I dunno… Friends! You know what I mean? All TV shows are about human connection and relationships. So I created these

The conversation continued: HEAR JONATHAN AMES TALK ABOUT THE LITERARY LIFE. Take a picture of this page ... text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or email it to dt@mobot.com

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

two friends and, you know, I took the premise [of the story] and then I went somewhere else. A few months later we went to HBO, in September of 2007 and I pitched it and they said they wanted to do it, almost immediately.

In the new collection, the story “Bored to Death” isn’t in the short story section and it isn’t in the personal essays, either. So did you put a detective ad on Craigslist in real life? No, but I thought of doing

it. You know, I was fantasizing about being a private detective and rather than actually doing it I wrote a story about it.

Great! Then the writer’s strike happened like a week or two weeks

later.

Oy. But there was enough of a deal in place, a handshake. When the strike ended I wrote the pilot.

You’ve written that you like putting yourself in uncomfortable situations and milking it. Have things ever gone too far that you don’t write about it? It seems that you don’t censor yourself all that much, at least as I perceive it. Life is so huge. I maybe report on, like,

What I like is that the premise of the show serves as a nice jumpingoff point for extracting things from your universe. As a fan of yours, to be watching an episode and see a transexual prostitute or the characters getting colonics— Or he says the title of one of my books.

one per cent of my life and then even that is distorted and full of lies because of the nature of language. Also, at some point, one’s behaviors become repetitive, you know, and maybe I got tired of paying attention? But I’ve put down a fair amount of life over eight books, but that really just sort of scratches the surface.

I sprinkled in a lot of, you know, I stole lines here and there. Cause it’s also—he’s sort of playing me, so it’s an interesting collage.

Was you playing yourself ever an option? I’ve seen that Showtime pilot you starred in as yourself— You actually saw it?

Yeah! That one time it was on I Tivo’d it. Dude! You’re one of the few

human beings!

I loved it! Really?

If that had been picked up, that would have been one way of doing a Jonathan Ames TV show. Was the concept of you playing you in Bored To Death talked about? I think it was briefly on the table, but

I think early on they wanted to go younger. And I met Jason and he’s incredible, and as soon as I met him I wanted him for this.

I just thought he would do a better job playing me than me. But he’s also not me; it’s the character. He brings his own personality into it. You know, all the male characters are a little bit versions of me. That’s probably why I kept the name my name. But I’m really content that it’s not me.

Will you appear on the show? I’m not in the first season. I really

don’t want to jinx things. I’m also juggling so much with the show: writing, executive producing, editing, being on the set, that to add the “fail or succeed” pressure of acting—I’m already on the edge of constant failure or success.

You were on the set every day? I was like the co-director of every

episode.

Was that exciting for you? A lot of it was fun. We’d pull off a great shot or something would work well. There’s a lot of stress and pressure… stressure? So it was more like, I don’t know, being a soldier. A creative soldier.

Is Ted Danson’s character an amalgamation of people you’ve written for or worked for in the past with your neuroses thrown on top? I’d

say his archetype, for me, was old New York literary lion publishing world, so George Plympton very much came to mind. The name [George Christopher] is sort of a fusion of George Plympton and Christopher Hitchens. So I just wanted someone who was just an outrageous New York literary figure. So, his outer shape, his architecture, his building, would be iconic New York literary manabout-town and then a lot of his brain is just me talking about the things that I care about. I love his performance.

The line between fiction and nonfiction blurs in your work. And I guess the nature of a double life is that the two lives can begin to blend together and overlap. That could be one of the elements of

a double life. I’m glad that you appreciate that. I mean… I’m not some smart writer who figures anything out. I’m just working from my own tortured little mortal psyche. But this friend of mine, the writer Tom Beller, said a funny and nice thing to me.

He said, “Ames, your work has come to exist in the ‘taint between non-fiction and fiction.” [Laughter] And I was just like, Perfect. I guess I thought of the vagina and the anus, and I’m in there. Or I guess it could be the cock and the anus and I’m between! It was very apt.

And the title of the book, The Double Life Is Twice As Good? I feel like

we lead more than double lives. I wrote that initially one night as a way to deal with shame. I was just mortified or trying to accept myself, or I was trying to move out of mortification into selfacceptance, and I was like, All right, what’s a positive spin on this thing? And it was three or four a.m., and I was writing on a yellow pad and I wrote, “Well, the double life is twice as good.” I lead this life which nobody knows about, full of shame or secrets and then this other life, that we let people in on, or not. I don’t know. So it’s not quite tongue in cheek. It’s an attempt at self-acceptance.

And how goes the journey towards self-acceptance? Um, well, that’s

a lifelong journey. And then right when you get it you die. Or something terrible like that. And pay taxes, right? Death and taxes.

But… I don’t know, I mean, I guess I do move past things better.

And I’m able to pay the rent better. I don’t know why. But I may just be setting myself up for one more crippling, self-destructive blow in some weird chess match against oneself. Or not. I’m not doing great or anything, but I’ve gotten older and maybe as you get older you become less hysterical? But certainly I’ve known people in their forties and fifties who have breakdowns, so I could be headed for that.

I do feel a little bit less hysterical, not any less pathetic though. I mean, there’s a lot going on with the TV show, but it doesn’t really penetrate me, you know what I mean? I don’t feel really good about any of it. I don’t feel bad about it. There’s a slight element of not feeling deserving but, at the same time, I’ve already moved on. I think it was John Steinbeck who said once he finishes a book he puts it on a shelf and it’s like he never even wrote it. So I sort of feel that way with the show. I don’t mean to sound portentous or pretentious. I‘m a little bit low these days but, you know, I do love being near the water. It’s really nice right here.

111

The

Future [ According to you ]

A photography contest with The Lomographic Society Curated by Ray Lego

I N T E R AC TI V E CO N T E N T

D r i v i n g I n O u t e r S p a c e • P e i - y u L i n • T a i n a n , T a i w a n • L o m o g r a p h y C o l o r S pl a s h C a m e r a

Don’t get us wrong—digital cameras are great. But sometimes those crisp, clear digital images just start looking sterile, vacuous and soulless. We don’t know about you, but that’s not how we want to see the future. When we asked people to imagine the future in photos, we knew the images had to be striking, dynamic, and—hey, we’re talking about the future here—a little bit twisted.

Teaming up with the Lomographic Society was a no brainer.

Lomography cameras are synonymous with the cult of analog film. We asked the cult to snap a photo of what they thought the future looked like. Culled from thousands of submissions worldwide, we’ve narrowed it down to ten images. Each winner

112

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9

will receive a DianaF+ Black Jack, and the grand prize winner will get an LC-A+ camera. Who will win? Which image best demonstrates the future? That’s up to you. Snap a picture of your favorite image in this feature with your camera phone and send it in. We’ll be waiting.

so which photo Best Predicts the future? you decide! Vote by Taking a picture of your favorite image in this section... text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or email it to dt@mobot.com

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

CrowdeD • Ahmad Prakar BandunG • Indonesia • Holga CFN

113

G h os t T r e e • G e n e B r a n a m a n • A u b u r n , C a l i f o r n i a • H o l g a C F N

114

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9

The Last Survivor on Earth • Ian Lin • Singapore • Lomography LC-A+

115

I n t h e N a m e o f t h e S o n , t h e Fat h e r , a n d t h e Holy. . . . . . . n e v e r m i n d • J e r e m y Mi t c h e ll • W e bb C i t y, MO • L o m o g r a p h y D i a n a F +

116

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9

Pa g b u b u k a s • TJ S u a r e z • P av ia , P h ilippi n e s • Oly m p u s X A

117

S p a c e s h i p • S t e p h a n Kaps • B r e m e n , G e r m a n y • L o m o g r a p h y L C - A +

118

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9

P e t e r • M A R J A N B UN I N G • NE T HER L AND S • HO L GA C F N +

119

Untitled • Tom North • England • Holga CFN

120

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9

N e w B e e t l e C a b r i ol e t • C h a r l o t t e D e v o is e - L a m b e r t • B i o sc o p e , U n g e r s h e i m , F r a n c e • L u b i t e l 1 6 6 U

121

REVIEWS

Atlas Sound Logos Kranky ++++

Last year’s Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel found Deerhunter’s Bradford Cox fully exploring all those multi-textured, uber-ambient sounds that he had only dabbled with in his band’s breakthrough LP, Cryptograms. It was a haunting and gorgeous endeavor, and we dug it. Very much so.

Well, now that he’s got that out of his system, Cox is free to indulge in all of his pop sensibilities.

And if Logos is anything to go by, they are manifold. “Walkabout,” featuring guest vocals from Panda Bear, bops and jangles like the best of summer singles from the sixties. “Sheila” intermingles bursts of love and suicidal tendencies into a serving of tripped out pop-rock, while “Kid Klimax” filters worldweary vocals through a thick web of psychedelic, trip-hopping noise. And let’s not ignore “Quick Canal.” Here, Stereolab’s Laetitia Sadler’s iconic voice threads each bit of euphoric noise together into an eight-minute dirge that truly soars.

Bradford Cox is clearly not afraid to mix it up and try new things. This record sees him experimenting with new sonic textures, but at the same time keeping things simple and accessible.

For lovers of pop-rock and weirdness alike, Logos offers the best of both worlds. —Danny Fasold

Key: Worst + Best +++++

123

REVIEWS MUSIC

Califone

All My Friends Are Funeral Singers Dead Oceans

+++

Few things (apart from new, blaringly white sneakers) necessitate a good mussing up, so why must bands so often adulterate perfectly good songs with dumb sound bytes? “Funeral Singers” and “Krill” fall victim to the ruse, yet persist as the best of Califone’s artfully disheveled sixth LP. Shrill guitars, shooting skyward like magic beanstalks, contribute to a ritualistic, enchanted forest feel, and fizzy “Ape-Like” and “Salt,” peeking through a patchy canopy like sunbeams, divert the disc from turning into a strictly black-attired affair. – Amber L. Herzog

Amazing Baby Rewild Shangri La

++++

Various Ciao My Shining Star: The Songs of Mark Mulcahy Shout Factory

On first impression, Amazing Baby’s full-length debut might sound crass and substance-less, what with lines like, “and I can’t say another word except to say I’m sorry to you, baby” and, “she protects her animals, we are starving cannibals,” all hand delivered with standard rock fare. But once you peel this surface layer away, you’ll realize how good this band really is.

Start to finish, these songs are highoctane, kaleidoscopic anthems made for stadiums, all covered in big burbly bubbles. I daresay Amazing Baby seems more content to have a good time than to actually blow your mind. In “Kankra,” they say it best themselves: “We wrote the songs for fun, we are the moving sun.” Orbit away, fellas.

– Danny Fasold

Mark Mulcahy is a criminally underrated songwriter whose work ranges from his stint as the front man of Miracle Legion to his time in Polaris, to his solo material, to the resident house-band for beloved children’s television show The Adventures of Pete and Pete. Ciao My Shining Star is an upsetting premise: a means of helping Mulcahy continue to make music and raise his daughters after the sudden death of his wife. Twenty-one artists such as Thom Yorke, Michael Stipe, and Dinosaur Jr. cover Mulcahy’s work, mostly to success.

Strong points include Autumn Defense on “Paradise” and album opener, Thom Yorke’s “All for the Best.” Although the story behind the album is tragic, the compilation is a fitting testament to Mulcahy’s career. - Britt Julious

124

N O V / D E C 2 0 0 9 RE V IEW S

+++

El Perro del Mar Love is Not Pop The Control Group

+++

Sarah Assbring, otherwise known as El Perro del Mar, has entered the new millennium, musically speaking. Her latest album, Love is Not Pop, sounds at home among her peers with a heavy dose of synths. Unfortunately, that is the problem—there is no way to distinguish the singer. As a result, songs that should sound charming and light like “L is for Love” and “Change of Heart” sound listless.

El Perro del Mar and From the Valley to the Stars were enigmatic due in large part to a re-appropriation of ‘60s girl group aesthetics.

Love is Not Pop is a step in a new direction, though not necessarily a good one.

- Britt Julious

Check out a Clip of each OF THESE songS right now! just take a picture of the album cover... text the pic to Mobot at 66268 or email it to dt@mobot.com

You Review

Go ahead, say it to my interface ...

No computer in sight? Don’t sweat it! You can hear these songs right now. For each of the albums below, take a picture of the album cover using your cell phone (just the cover—not the whole page), and send it in to us; you’ll begin downloading thirty seconds of the album’s featured song immediately. And there’s more: We want you to review them for us, too. Text us back your rating of each track (on a scale of 1-5). We’ll compile your reviews and post the results in our next issue.

Why? “This Blackest Purse” from the album Eskimo Snow on Anticon Records

Neon Indian “Terminally Chill” off the album Psychic Chasms on Lefse Records

Cincinnati juggernaut Why? released a record last year called Alopecia that everyone went gaga over.

Rightfully so: The band’s ethereal pop calls to mind everyone from The Flaming Lips to Menomena. Check out what Why? Are up to now.

Typically cast as spawn of MGMT, Neon Indian are stepping out with their debut full length, Psychic Chasms. The music’s plenty trippy, but leaves ample room for melodies you’ll find yourself humming first thing in the morning.

Pains of Being Pure At Heart

Real Estate

“Higher Than The Stars” off of the Higher Than The Stars EP on Slumberland Pains of Being Pure at Heart set the indie world on fire earlier this year with their self-titled debut, which featured ten tracks of sugary hooks and lush production. The New York-based band are back with a follow-up EP. Check out “Higher Than The Stars” now!

“Beach Comber” From their self-titled album on Woodsist Records New Jersey’s Real Estate are proof that less is more. Jangly guitars, steady drums, buoyant vocals—what more do you need to craft perfect pop songs?

Nothing! These guys should know, too. Singer Martin Courtney used to be in a Weezer cover band.

Message & Data rates may apply. Text HELP for help, STOP to stop. Carriers: Alltel, AT&T, Cricket, Sprint, Verizon. T/C’s at www.mobot.com/dt

125

REVIEWS MUSIC

Destroyer Bay of Pigs EP Merge

++++

Bay of Pigs is not an early ‘80s experimental record built upon remnants of disco and new wave synths, despite what one initially hears. Or, perhaps it is. Daniel Bejar’s voice combines with the electronics in an authentic way—surprising for a man more widely recognized as a traditional singer-songwriter.

Bay of Pigs is and isn’t a dance record. One can easily move on two and four to the beat, but the songs—title track “Bay of Pigs” in particular—works just as well off the dance floor. - Britt Julious

Espers III Drag City

+++

Philadelphia-based prog-folk group Espers is like an acid flashback that triggers new and exciting visuals. The sextet’s densely trippy fourth album III is occasionally overwrought with psychedelic grandeur, yet it’s the perfect vehicle for vocalist Meg Baird to resurrect the hallowed, birdlike tenor typical of late-sixties

James Husband A Parallax I Polyvinyl ++

folk singers. Her voice lilts above brightly hypnotic tracks like “Sightings” and “Another Moon Song,” commanding melody over the sincere and subdued vocals of Greg Weeks.

Album highlight “Caroline” successfully bridges the generation gap by superimposing the duo’s classical harmonies over a backing track that sounds like a Nigel Godrich production of “Hotel California.” –Jared McCarthy

Farmer Dave Scher Flash Forward To The Good Times Kemado

+++

As the company he keeps suggests, Farmer Dave, a touring member of both Jenny Lewis and Interpol, is pretty all right. However, unlike his road companions, his voice isn’t the most distinguished or remarkable. In fact, it’s goofy and tough not to smile at. Scher’s weirdfor-weird’s-sake antics include a hoedown on a Twain-era riverboat (“Finnz Hammock”), but his interpretation of beach rock on “Our Love is a Wave” and “Surf Out Sunset” is genuinely clever. A playful throwback to Steely Dan meets the Grateful Dead, Flash Forward To The Good Times is a retreat from stuffy, overworked indie. – Amber L. Herzog

Fool’s Gold Fool’s Gold IAMSOUND

++++

With a collective of indie-rock all-stars from We Are Scientists, The Fall and Foreign Born, Fool’s Gold’s debut is exactly what you wouldn’t expect it’d be: a world music record. But make no mistake about it; this record is a fun ride from the very start. Songs like “Nadine” bop merrily along past the five-minute mark screaming trumpets and tribal beats at you in neck-splitting, whirly-

Chronicling twelve years of touring and recording with of Montreal, James Husband, alter ego of multiinstrumentalist Jamey Huggins, set this memoir of sorts in stone over the past five. Husband fulfills the same boyish curiosity advocated by his alma mater, and likewise applies anecdote as lyrical score. The fifties bandstand sound of “Window” and album closer “The Darkestness” (where Husband, Skywalker-style, proposes an alliance against evil forces) gets two thumbs up, but ultimately, his debut is bit of a letdown, simply because it’s not wholly astronomical. No matter the pedigree, a head in the clouds and a hand in multiple projects is a compromising combination. – Amber L. Herzog

126

S E P T / O C T 2 0 0 9 RE V IEW S

go-round jams, while the handclaps of “The World is All There Is” transmigrate you straight to Kenya. There are times when the jams meander off for a bit too long, sure, but it’s a strong, sincere effort from a group of guys who really seem to have the Afrobeat thing down. Great for summer vacations and psychedelic bonfire dances. – Danny Fasold

Fuck Buttons Tarot Sport ATP

+++

And here we have the second album from Bristol, England’s Fuck Buttons. The hour’s worth of music, divided into seven tracks of mindnumbing sonic textures, is perhaps closer related to what Underworld was doing ten years ago than anyone would like to admit. But whether you’re an audiophile or you secretly long for the days when ridiculously baggy JNCO jeans were all the rage, Tarot Sport is a thrilling journey in sound deserving of a listen—with, or without the aid of ecstasy. –Isaac Lekach

Nouvelle Vague 3 Peacefrog

++++

Nouvelle Vague. Translation: “New Wave,” in Portuguese.

Once you know the meaning behind the name, you know the meaning behind the band. French musicians Marc Collins and Olivier Libaux have been stamping their own brand of bossanova-tinged folk music onto popular ‘80s songs for a little while, and on 3—their third proper fulllength, surprise, surprise—the duo delivers exactly what their name promises and more.

Songs like “Heaven,” a Psychedelic Furs original, are transformed into Seu Jorgelike folk ballads that could fit right into the Life Aquatic soundtrack if not for the fact that they have nothing to do with David Bowie. But their influences don’t start and stop with Portugal. Plastic

GUEST EDITORS: DAS RACIST Das Racist is a Brooklynbased rap group comprised of Queensborn rapper Himanshu Suri, San Francisco-born rapper Kool A.D. (née Victor Vazquez) and various producers including Leif, J-La, and Like Magic. They have been described as “stupid,” “smart,” “clowns,” “geniuses,” “dumb,” “deconstructionalist,” “children,” “existential,” “inane,” “transcendental,” “terrible,” and “brilliant.”

The Entrance Band | Self-Titled Ecstatic Peace Victor Vazquez: This shit is wack. Absolute worst band in the world. Himanshu Suri: That’s pretty harsh dude. I’m not going to listen to this whole album if you say it’s THAT bad—if you’re that adamant about it. Though I heard the first song and I thought it was alright. It’s nothing to write home to mom about, for sure, but it’s entertaining. That said, I admittedly subscribe to the “any music is better than no music” pamphlet, which often leads to arguments over why I appreciate some really shitty bands. Victor Vazquez: Naw, whatever, I just thought the drums were kind of corny and music kind of bored me in ways that I didn’t want to bother to articulate in any great detail.

I’m just being that same lazy music journalist that we always hate on. Now I see why there’s so many haters in the music journalism game. It’s so easy to be a hater.

Especially when you’re not getting paid enough (read: at all) to want to exert the effort necessary to give a band a fair shake. So whatever, don’t take my word for it, reader, go listen to it for yourself—maybe you’ll dig it. I kind of just have nothing to say about these dudes.

I’m sure they’re like, nice guys, or whatever.

Raekwon | Only Built for Cuban Linx Pt. 2 ICEAL

Himanshu Suri: This album is an example of why I liked rap in the first place. Shit was gravy when I was ten and then Wu-Tang wasn’t making music like they used to and it wasn’t the nineties anymore and the only alternative I had was Talib Kweli and postRawkus rappers who were overtly telling me what to think about class inequality instead of saying some dope shit and letting me decipher that “Geico on the wrist” probably referred to his lizard-skinned watch strap. To be fair there are tracks like “Ason Jones” that aren’t just drug talk and pull on some heart strings so real that you can’t really call “pause” on it, unless you’re a dick. The real gem here is “10 Bricks,“ without a doubt. Hearing WU on a Dilla beat (track ten on beat tape 3 if I recall correctly) is an ultimate pantscreamer; not a dry pair in the house. Additionally humorous is the normative white dude isolated as far from it in the line, “They caught him out in Brooklyn with a white man.” Victor Vazquez: Yeah, I sort of imagined a montage of people listening to that “Ason Jones” track and opening their mouths to say “pause” and then being like, Man, ODB is dead. That’s actually very sad. His interviews are kind of my favorite thing on Youtube—aside from maybe dudes zooming in on “nugs” of their weed and being like, Super Sour Diesel, bro, look at these crystals, dude. “House of Flying Daggers” is also a knock ass Dilla beat and Deck kind of kills it. “Angel hair with the lobster sauce.” My favorite Wu lines aren’t even rhymes usually, just phrases like “spiced out, Calvin Coolidge” or “folding like envelopes under pressure like Lou Ferrigno on coke” or “Queen Elizabeth rubbing my leg, ketchup on her dress from a Whopper.” I remember after I bought the first OB4CL (almost strictly because it had the word “Cuban” in it) I would stay repeating tiny little pieces of it in my head, even like just one or two words, like “Italiano” or “they Arabs” or “womb to the tomb” and say them in (terrible) freestyles a lot.

Jay-Z | The Blueprint 3 Roc Nation Himanshu Suri: In this short-attention span, microblogging Twitter world the three-step trajectory goes: Album leak, Twitter go buck, opinions made. It’s a shame that I hated this album before I heard it. Then I heard “Empire State of Mind” slowly grow into an anthem on the NY radio and began to perk up at the mention of that McDonalds uptown near City College and freaked out imagining what Bjork would sound like on it instead of Alicia. As everyone’s discussed “Run This Town” into the ground I’ll leave that one alone but I will say the sample source, Greek psych-rock band 4 Level’s of Existence’s “Someday in Athens” is equally worth digging up on the Internet. To me the standout track is really “On to the Next One” though. Dude really flipped Justice’s “D.A.N.C.E.” into THAT beat?

Overall this shit’s okay with me! Victor Vazquez: The “lights will inspire you” line on “Empire State of Mind” still makes me cringe each time I hear it, but it does help to imagine Bjork singing it now. But on the real, that song is kind of almost the new Juicy, corny (but hella pretty) R&B hook and all. But yeah, “On to the Next One” is definitely the one. Rapping about taking the richest black woman in America to Marcy Projects and texting the first black U.S. president? That’s very crazy to think about. Jay-Z might be the closest thing we have to Michael Jackson right now.

JEFF the Brotherhood | Heavy Days Infinity Cat Himanshu Suri: This is a big sound for two dudes.

Immediately drawn to “Heavy Krishna” based solely on the title, I looked to accuse them of “Across the Universe” type appropriation. It starts out pacing through, energetic as hell, until about midway when positive vibes drench through the speakers with some vocal sounds, not words, and then some sitar ragainspired guitar lines. It becomes clear the only thing I can accuse these dudes of probably putting on a killer live show. While some of it speeds through, tracks like “The Tropics” display a softer side and knack for delay pedal fuckery on par with the obvious guitar and drums murdering. Though not my favorite type of music, I would love to see them live and without ever having done so recommend you do too if given the opportunity. Victor Vazquez: These guys are OK. “The Tropics” sounds like a more reverby Weezer, which is pleasant if you’re into that sort of thing. Wow, it’s really hard not to sound like a condescending prick when you review shit that you don’t have much of an opinion about, isn’t it?

Thao with The Get Down Stay Down Know Better Learn Faster KillRock Stars Himanshu Suri: Way to have a great voice Thao Nguyen. This is hand clapping melodic folk unabashed guitar fun with no frills. There’s no psych rock or lo-fi sound of internet fickle fandom shtick either.

Yo, remember last night you said you wanted to play hell of shows in barns? This would be sick to see in a barn. A real hootenanny. The strings on the title track are something else, too. I just read that Andrew Bird is responsible for the violin on there. Makes sense. I don’t typically like acoustic music but I’d love to hear this hell of stripped down—just Thao and her guitar with a little accompaniment. Wait, this song “The Give” is kind of exactly what I meant. I’ve listened to “Cool Yourself” five times now and don’t intend on stopping. Overall it’s a little spastic too, like a folky Unicorns. That’s a good thing. Victor Vazquez: This is definitely some Barn Music. If I was in a barn watching this I’d definitely be slapping my leg. I might have a jug of moonshine, even. I see how you’re refreshed by the clean production, it’s almost like some late Pavement or Silver Jews in that respect, but to tell you the truth I kind of tend to lose interest for that same reason. The whole thing has a nineties alternative earnestness that more folks these days seem ready for now maybe cause Obama is kind of like Clinton? She does have a good voice, though.

127

REVIEWS MUSIC

Girls

Album Matador

++++

Girls is not a subtle band. The duo’s catchy-as-hell debut, Album, is unabashedly straightforward both in name and style, featuring nine songs steeped in sunny sixties bedroom-pop and early nineties shoegaze.

JR White and Christopher Owens are two lovesick, hearts-on-their-sleeves California boys who sing simple songs about girls, self-pity and heartbreak: think the melodic and thematic tendencies of The Smiths or Magnetic Fields without the lyrical wit or cynicism of either. “Lust for Life,” is the would-be song of summer, if only summer wasn’t over. It’s a missed opportunity that just may give Girls additional inspiration for self-loathing. – Jared McCarthy

Bertrand’s “Ca Plane Pour Moi” thumps along like Japanese pop-punk, and their version of the Soft Cell’s “Say Hello, Wave Goodbye” is positively made for 1920s-themed cabarets. The highlight of the record is “All My Colours,” an Echo and the Bunnymen original, which creeps and reverberates goosebumps straight onto your skin. Nouvelle Vague doesn’t pay homage to new wave; they take it to new places. – Danny Fasold

because not only are these guys talented, but I’m sure there are a lot of places that postrock has yet to explore. I guess we’ll just have to keep waiting. - Danny Fasold

Saxon Shore It Doesn’t Matter Broken Factory

good—pleasant, even. Evans’s dry, snappy vocals are the perfect supplement to the YACHT oeuvre, turning most of the material into quirky duos. Sing-a-long “Psychic City” sounds snappy and entertaining, with a slower tempo that can still liven an audience.

“It’s Boring/You Can Live Anywhere You Want” is an epic rave-like track, incorporating touches of dance punk and house to euphoric bliss. The new material is a step forward— both eclectic and challenging. - Britt Julious

++

Zoot Woman Things Are What They Used to Be ZWR

Like most post-rock bands, Saxon Shore’s main flaw is its failure to distinguish itself from its peers. This doesn’t mean It Doesn’t Matter is without its share of nuggets. The violin outro on “Small Steps” is a nice touch, and in the one occasion where vocals appear on the record during “This Place,” they’re positively dreamy (think Cocteau Twins reimagined for the 21st century). But when all is said and done, the music of It Doesn’t Matter falls way short of its ambition. Which is sad,

What can you say about an album that borrows the same synthesizer tricks / dance beats / lyrical clichés from every new wave band ever to hit the MTV airwaves circa 1980-whatever? We’ve heard these same songs a million times before, passed along from New Order to Talk Talk to the Pet Shop Boys like a Studio 54 slut.

With almost any other band I’d let them off the hook, but Zoot Woman has been

128

S E P T / O C T 2 0 0 9 RE V IEW S

+ YACHT See Mystery Lights DFA

++++

On See Mystery Lights, YACHT’s sixth album, front man Jona Bechtolt added vocalist Claire L. Evans as a full-time member and surprisingly the result is quite

pretending they were in the ‘80s since their first record eight years ago, and I don’t get the feeling they plan on shaking their formula up any time soon. I could also cite the innate cheesiness of lines like “It’s lonely, lonely, lonely by your side and I’ve nowhere, nowhere, nowhere left to hide,” but then, I’ve already griped enough. Fuck it. I think I’ll watch a DVD. –Danny Fasold

The Temper Trap Conditions Glassnote Records

+++

When you think of Australian bands, you probably think of Fosters-swilling party tunes from dudes like The Death Set. The Temper Trap is decidedly of a different breed. Their debut Conditions is moody, at turns both dark and hopeful, and totally nineties, in the best way. Single “Sweet Disposition” was featured on the soundtrack and in the trailer for this summer’s hit rom-com 500 Days Of Summer before their debut was even released, but gone are the days when this type of commercial exposure obviates credibility. The days are getting shorter and colder, and Conditions is the perfect record for drinking red wine and cultivating your pathos. -Alex Moore

Volcano Choir Unmap Jagjaguwar

++++

Justin Vernon’s music (Bon Iver) is not most people’s definition of R&B and yet, there is a particular soulful aesthetic that separates him from his contemporaries. On Unmap, the debut album for his new project with Wisconsin’s Collection of Colonies of Bees, the emphasis is on the voice. The band’s layered and arresting vocals are complemented by sparse synths. Frequently indecipherable lyrics don’t detract from the single “Island IS” on which Vernon sounds rich, with each viscous note dripping over the next, as if reintroducing the listener to the untapped power of the voice as choice instrument. - Britt Julious

Sea Wolf

White Water, White Bloom Dangerbird

++++

Though over spit-shined, White Water, White Bloom isn’t as colorless as the title implies. “Orion & Dog” is an immersion of exquisite string orchestration, smitten single “O Maria!” fractions in a zip of pop, and “Turn the Dirt Over” welcomes a likeness to Ryan Adams’s Cold Roses. New Age notions are openly apparent in their song titles, but the band’s robust energy—think Arcade Fire coupled with Bright Eyes’ Lifted, without the collectively annoying warble—restrains their sophomore effort from untimely boiling over with Stevie Nicksesque witchy-ness. – Amber L. Herzog

129

REVIEWS GAMES

Tony Hawk Ride Activision Wii | Xbox 360 | PS3 Peripheral Vision

+++

Brütal Legend

Get Thee To Thine Xbox R e v i e w s by S t e p h e n B l a c k w e l l

A

Electronic Arts • Xbox 360 / PS3

side from the chugging guitars, sweet Marshall stacks, man-child falsettos, and skin tight leather, there is yet another hallmark of heavy metal that distinguishes it from other all genres: Its silly obsession with demons.

Pick any heavy metal band from the eighties—Iron Maiden, Slayer, Megadeth, Metallica, et al—and I guarantee they have sold thousands of T-shirts with some type of zombie or flaming skull or demon emblazoned across the front, while the band’s name, in the pointiest font possible of course, rests atop the image as if to say, “Here is the demon. We own it.” As immature as it is by today’s standards, heavy metal bands actually had demonic mascots.

Megadeth, in particular, employed a skeletal creature named Vic Rattlehead who at times sported long scraggly hair à la the Crypt Keeper, and, when not, showed up with a buzz cut. He would appear on the band’s album covers wearing a pair of big sunglasses chained to his face. In one instance, he is holding a nuclear warhead like a baby. In another—perhaps the most indecipherable of the bunch—he is standing over a cryogenically frozen alien gripping a ball of plutonium. Jesus.

The point I’m trying to make is, all this

silly demonic stuff, which we can probably trace back to Led Zeppelin’s interest in Aleister Crowley, or maybe even the Manson murders, only existed in band lyrics, on T-shirts, and sometimes in music videos. Now it has a whole video game called Brütal Legend. It stars Jack Black (who else?), and it’s pretty cool.

The hero of our story, Eddie Riggs, a roadie of metal bands, gets a gash on his head at the beginning of the game proceeding a massive stage accident.

His blood rips a hole in the space-time continuum, as blood is often wont to do, and transports Riggs to a demonic realm.

(This is the heavy metal interpretation of Disney’s “cosmic dust.”)

From there Riggs battles all sorts of things—skeletal druids, sexy nun demons, giant worms—you name it. If it’s comically gross, then it’s in this game. Jack Black is a funny guy—you know this. His humor is not lost inside the video game, as he hits on girls and smashes anything in his path with a gigantic axe.

The game play is a little clumsy, but keep in mind you’re not operating a lithe ninja here, you’re controlling a fat, carcinogen-loaded roadie. As such I recommend basking in this bizarre heavymetal fantasy world Brütal Legend has offered us. It’s the only one out there like it.

The way we play video games has changed enormously over the past few years. Motion controls and peripherals continue to take up a larger chunk of our gaming activities, so much so I can’t really get a sense of when it will become antediluvian to play games using a buttoned controller. Is the age of the joystick and its many iterations finally coming to a close? Tony Hawk seems to think so.

I only sampled Tony Hawk Ride, out this October, for a few minutes this past summer. I should probably mention Tony Hawk was in the room, and I should probably mention Tony Hawk is a boyhood idol, and the whole scenario had a what-the-fuck? feel to it because, really, how should one go about skateboarding in front of Tony Hawk, let alone in virtual reality on an electronic skateboard thingy he helped invent. I just went for it, and let me tell you, I am way better at skateboarding in a video game than I am in real life.

You go through all the motions on the skateboard peripheral as if it were a real board. You push off, you crouch, you pop, you angle, you swerve, you grab the sides—it’s amazing fun. I killed it on the half pipe, and I cannot tell you what joy it brought to my heart to land something fancy and hear Tony Hawk yell, “Ohhhhhh!” in the background.

I can’t wait to dig deeper into the game when it hits shelves. Guitar Hero, Rock Band—it’s all good. But this one I have the feeling I’m going to get obsessed with.

131

D e ath + T a x e s D irectory

Saw something you liked?

Fred Perry 133 Wooster St., NYC www.fredperry.com A.P.C. 131 Mercer St # A, New York www.apc.fr Nice Collective www.nicecollective.com American Apparel American Apparel stores or www.americanapparel.net H&M Scarf H&M stores or www.hm.com Marc by Marc Jacobs Available at Marc by Marc Jacobs Original Penguin Original Penguin Stores or www.originalpenguin.com

132

N O V/ D E C 2 0 0 9

Samantha Pleet samanthapleet.com 7 Mercer St., 2nd Floor New York, N.Y

Odyn Vovk For store listings see: www.odynvovk.com

S2V2 www.s2vs.com

Alexander Koutny For store listings see: www.alexanderkoutny.com

TopShop/ Topman 478 Broadway, NYC www.topshop.com www.topman.com Monrow Available at Blomingdales or Oak www.oaknyc.com Gemma Kahng www.gemmakahng.com

Soe www.soe-tokyo.com Acne www.shop.acnestudios.com Cheap Monday Available at Urban Outfitters www.urbanoutfitters.com Casio G Shock For store locations see: www.gshock.com/where_to_buy/

advertisment

presents New

New N O A GE NOSO AG E N G IN SI De. SON G INSCIDe AN. YOU CAN YOU N FIND FI IT?D IT?

*INFIRSTERAT CTIVE *INTEOURRACT IVE IS SU E

OUR FIR ST

JAY JAR YEATARD IS HeA reRD RE TO SAVe AT R O C K ND RO IS Here TOASAV

ISSUE

NEW TEC HNO LOGY NEW TECHNO LOGY INSI DE INSIDE

e LL ROCK AND ROLL

HOW JO THAN AMES HOW TONA OK JONATHAN AMES TOOK HOLLYWOOD HOLLYWOOD AIR WILD BE AS TS AIR YACH T WILD BEAS SUFJATSN STEV ENS YACH T SUFJA N STEV ENS

Inter actIve conte nt SPonS oreD by ScIon

InteractIve content SPonSoreD by ScIon

Behind The Scenes

Jay Reatard: The Making of a Superhero With the most exciting, high-energy record of the year, we decided Jay Reatard was destined to save rock and roll from falling asleep at the wheel. Take a trip behind the scenes as Death+Taxes visits Jay in his hometown of Memphis, Tennessee. He indulged us by playing the part of superhero, donning a speedo and cape in public, and showing us a hell of a good time. Check out the video at music.vtechphones.com