MUSIC
LOUISVILLE MUSICIANS FROM MULTIPLE ERAS TALK ABOUT SLINT’S SPIDERLAND By Scott Recker | leo@leoweekly.com IN THE SEVEN OR SO YEARS I’ve been in about it three decades later, is that most of us are still working on the puzzle. town, I’ve been impressed by how local Because of Spiderland’s prominence and musicians of all ages seem to have an influence, I spoke with Louisville musiencyclopedic knowledge of Louisville cians from multiple eras about the record. music history. People who were in grade school or not alive in the early ‘90s will Scott Ritcher, Sunspring (1990-1994), namedrop Louisville musicians from Metroschifter (1994-2005), owner of that era into causal conversations and in Slamdek Records: interviews. And the stories and perspecIn the late 1980s and early ’90s, groups tives from the people who were there are like my band Sunspring were still playing always evocative, painting a picture of a odd brands of punk rock and just beginmuch different scene than todays. One of the records that constantly gets brought up ning to experiment with dissonance and uncommon time signatures. Slint was is Slint’s Spiderland, which just passed its 30th birthday in March. The record, which showing us how much could actually be done. They were making the move is a grenade of creativity that put a mirror from the chaos of punk to something that up to human volatility, was released after combined art, forethought and control. It the band broke up, but, through the years, seemed so educated. They weren’t going it’s slow-burned its way into the ears of in a new direction, they were taking a big indie kids across the globe. step up. Appropriately, since they were Todd Brashear, Slint’s bassist on a couple years older, it seemed like they Spiderland, recently told LEO that it’s up were graduating. The band found entirely to the listeners to determine what qualities fuel the album’s lasting impact, but he said new uses for guitar harmonics and, in contrast to their Louisville contempohard work and having the right people in raries, they dared to sometimes play as the right place made it all possible: “Some quietly as they could. It wasn’t long before people get lucky and they’re amazing we were all stealing these new colors off right out of the gate, but we all played in a their palette. What was most shocking to lot of bands over the years. Britt [Walus when we were first met with Spiderland ford, drummer] and Dave [Pajo, guitarist] was the emotion. We thought of these were technically great musicians — still guys as brilliant are — but me and yet here Brian [McMahan, They were making technicians, they were unabashvocalist and guitarist] weren’t, still the move from the edly exposing a raw, fragile vulnerabilaren’t, but we had chaos of punk to ity. Our music was been around the about emotion, we block, and, I’d say, something that thought, but just as made the most of Slint had previously the skills that we combined art, shown us how much had. But, sometimes, forethought and more was possible there’s… I’m going musically and sonito use the word control. cally, now they were magic. You just showing us colors get the right set of we could paint with lyrically and emotionpeople together and sometimes something ally. In contrast to Tweez, Slint became accool might happen.” claimed and revered for a whole different Sonically and lyrically, Spiderland set of things they did on Spiderland: songs lives at the corner of multiple juxtaposithat are urgent and uneasy, yet methodical; tions: visceral yet technical, emotional yet lyrical performances that exhibit a bare, controlled, weird yet accessible, mysteriundefended innocence; rhythm patterns ous yet direct, and, of course, loud and you’ve never heard before, but quickly quiet. It’s undeniably an important and tap your foot with; control over the guitar singular record in rock history, but one of that can finesse it from being delicate and the reasons we’re probably still talking
Image from the cover of Spiderland.
barely audible to the teapot squeal of a hole in a dam that won’t burst. Heather Fox, Juanita (1993-present): Back in those days in particular, we were very much about DIY and making noise and dressing up and having fun, so we were the opposite of highly-detailed, must-sound-a-perfect-way — I didn’t always tune my guitar and stuff like that. I didn’t have my own gear for years — I’d just borrow other people’s shit. In style, we could not be further from each other… I think the reason [Spiderland] has had such an impact though, is because it’s a beautiful record, it’s an incredible record, it’s really intimate. And I think it really captures a certain — I believe the word angst is overused — but it definitely captures a certain uncomfortable quality about being that age. What it feels like to be in your late teens / early twenties. Which, I’m glad I’m at the age I am now. I wouldn’t want to go back and be 20 years old. John King (Operator of the label Louisville Is For Lovers (2000-present), musician in several bands): It is no small coincidence that Slint’s Spiderland was released the same year I announced to my mother that I had decided to be a musician and demanded a drum set immediately. I was just 14, but was already well rooted in
the local music scene. In those days local music was everywhere. I could walk from my house in Germantown down Preston Highway and see Sunspring, Erchint, and Ennui at Audubon Skate Park, or take the Eastern Parkway bus to Bardstown Road and see Rodan and Crain play matinee shows at Tewligans. Sometimes Jeremy DeVine’s grandmother would drive us to Lazer Blaze in the East End to bands like Evergreen. I could never figure out the nation’s infatuation with the Seattle music scene at that time because it seemed like Louisville was inventing new bands and musical genres on a daily basis. It was exciting to head out to a show to discover the newest sounds. But, with all that creativity, Spiderland was something no one had heard before. It didn’t seem to fit in the normal trajectory of musical evolution. It seemed no matter what scene you were in, someone was talking about Spiderland. It had the aggression of hardcore with the fragility of lo-fi folk, and the attitude of shoegaze. It was simultaneously a dozen different genres and none of them, and it was all ours. We knew it was an important album, and it didn’t come from New York, or L.A. or Seattle. It was Louisville through and through. And for me the best part was Britt Walford’s drumming. It doesn’t matter if he’s playing on a Will Oldham record, a Kim Deal album or a raucous Squirrel Bait record, you know LEOWEEKLY.COM // MAY 26, 2021
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