The Handshake Conversation with Jeremy Lemos and Kris Poulin
There are few professions in the diverse world of musical performance that are simultaneously as indispensable and widely unappreciated as that of the recording engineer. Beloved by musicians and craftsmen, virtually ignored by the thankless masses, these men and women slink around behind the scenes, placing microphones, turning pre-amp knobs, and setting levels. They eliminate squeals and hums. They summon sound, as it is meant to be heard, from the bowels of complicated electronic machinery. They appreciate a good performance. And they remember. They remember each show, each venue. Touring engineers become connoisseurs of the road. They know where to eat. They know where to find water. They know where the bridge is out. Where the footing is sketchy. Where the fruit is ripe. Speaking of Chicago, recording legend and Electrical Audio founder Steve Albini once said, “The people here are here for reasons associated with their lives in general rather than for show business, so things like music, art and other creative pursuits tend to be done as passions and for camaraderie rather than as careers.” This, perhaps, is the precise reason why Chicago has given birth to so many excellent recording studios and record labels through the years. “Careerism brings with it an ugly insincerity and conservatism.” But Chicago’s people, for the most part, are passionate about their crafts, whether they execute them for money or not. They are selfless and humble. And—as anyone who has lived through a Chicago winter can attest to—they have good reason to go on tour every once in a while.
In the spring of 2011, Chicago lost one of its great recording engineers when Kris Poulin left the windy city for the golden shores of San Diego. Kris engineered his first record in Chicago in 1996, and had been doing live sound in the city since 1997. He spent almost four years on staff at Chicago's Acme Recording Studio and, in addition to countless miles of touring with several different bands, he also built his own studio with bandmate Matt Seifert, and he was a sound engineer at Lounge Ax, The Empty Bottle, Fireside Bowl, Beat Kitchen, and Logan Square Auditorium. Kris was (and still is) a dedicated engineer, musician, and fan of Chicago music, and whether anyone in the community realizes it or not, he will be sorely missed. In this conversation, Kris speaks with fellow Chicago-based recording engineer and founder of Semaphore Recording Studio, Jeremy Lemos, about food, shows, venues, showmanship, stupid questions, expensive tickets, and the short list. –Dan Duffy
Kris Poulin: Greetings human.
Jeremy Lemos: How are things going?
KP: I’m feeling a little sluggish right now. I just had a big lunch. It’s time for a nap.
JL: What did you have? Anything good?
KP: No. Nothing good. Subway.
JL: Oh, man. After all these years spent on tour being vegetarian, I can’t even look at Subway anymore.
KP: I generally have a rule against going to Subway unless I’m on tour. But I had a gift card for it from my mom.
KP: I’m chipping away at the gift card she gave me. It’s for thirty bucks. Five dollar footlongs for almost a week.
JL: So, what are your first impressions of living in San Diego? Do Chicagoans think their Mexican food is falsely great?
KP: The Mexican food here is consistently great. In Chicago, there is great Mexican food, but you have to look for it. Also, there are different types of Mexican food. Here it's more Baja and/or Mission style: whole beans (not refried), and I don't see much of that sour cream that seems to be on everything in Chicago's Mexican.
JL: Over the years I've learned to ask for no sour cream whenever I order. And there is always guacamole instead of avocados.
KP: Buying an avocado in San Diego is a waste of money. They're everywhere for the picking.
JL: I need to pay you a visit. Have you already found your spots?
KP: I have a few places already. One that I go to because it's close; one for it's amazing breakfast; one for it's huge vegetarian selection; and one for its margaritas. The place with the amazing breakfast has what they call the 2 + 2 Burrito. The first “two” is two eggs, and the second “two” is any other two ingredients you can come up with. It’s $2.99. And it’s big.
KP: Yeah. Especially if you do it breakfast style. Eggs, potatoes, and cheese, for example.
KP: Especially for three bucks. And it’s only two blocks away.
JL: Man, remember when you were a kid and you would just hop in a car for six hours to go hang out with your friends and smoke cigarettes and listen to tapes on the stereo and go see some band play in Minneapolis or wherever?
KP: I would drive to LA a lot when I was in Vegas. That was in my mid-twenties. That was more or less five hours each way.
JL: Where would you go see shows in LA?
KP: Several places. Whiskey, the Roxy...
JL: What bands did you go see at Whiskey a Go Go? That place just makes me think of Guns ‘n Roses.
KP: Questions like that make me wish all my notebooks were in a database. I could just type in “Whiskey.” That’s going to happen when I get an intern. That motherfucker’s going to type. A lot.
JL: (laughs) “Step one: do my patch bay. Step two: data entry.”
KP: “Enter these three notebooks filled with twenty-five years of going to shows into an Excel file. Color-coding and everything. Maybe put a little gray background in the cells of the shows that I worked, and leave the ones that I actually went to as a fan white. Something like that.” (laughs) Anyway. What was the question?
JL: I just want one band that you saw at the Whiskey a Go Go, because I can only think of Guns ‘n Roses playing there.
KP: I saw Jesus Lizard and Six Finger Satellite at Whiskey.
KP: Yeah. It was great, and it was right after Severe Exposure came out, which is my favorite Six Finger Satellite record. It’s basically Big Black meets Devo. There was another band that opened that show that I just don’t remember. I always think that it’s Failure, the San Diego band. But it’s not. I have to look that up. Going back to the first notebook for this one.
JL: You really have all of these notebooks within arm’s reach?
KP: Yeah. I have to put a new band in there once a week. Once a day if I’m on tour. The first notebook doesn’t even have a cover on it anymore. And the front page is loose. It’s off the spiral. But here at the top is the first show: Celtic Frost, Exodus, and Anthrax at the Aragon Ballroom.
KP: That was my first gig.
JL: That’s pretty incredible, man.
KP: What was your first show?
JL: My first show was Third Rail Rhyme and Gauge at the Glen Ellen VFW. Third Rail Rhyme only played a few shows. They featured Scott Shellhammer from American Heritage on drums. Ask me what my second show was.
KP: Okay. (ahem) What was your second show?
JL: It was listed in TimeOut Chicago’s Top Ten Greatest Shows in Chicago ever. Mudhoney and Jawbreaker and Nirvana at the Aragon Ballroom.
KP: I saw Mudhoney the next night. That show at Aragon was their last show on the Nirvana tour, and they played the next night at Metro. But I wasn’t there to see Mudhoney. They got added to the bill sort of last minute. They became the headliner over the Boredoms.
KP: What I remember specifically about it was that around then I refused to buy band merchandise—I was like “Fuck that, I’m punk! I’m not going to buy a t-shirt.” But then the show was so good that I ended up buying a Boredoms t-shirt. I felt obligated to give more money to the band than I had paid for my ticket.
JL: That was around the time when I would refuse to buy records from the record stores, because I knew that the record stores were taking some of the bands’ money. I would wait to buy albums from the bands on tour. That was the “most punk” way to spend your money.
KP: I wouldn’t buy anything on a major label except PJ Harvey.
JL: We all have the areas of our rules that get stretched.
KP: Around then I also saw Nirvana and Das Damen at the Metro for ten bucks. It was within a couple weeks after Nevermind came out. They were getting big, but they weren’t big yet.
JL: That Nirvana show at the Aragon was such a big deal to me that I wanted to laminate the ticket. The thing is though, those Ticketmaster tickets are heat sensitive. So I put it in a laminating machine, and it turned black. I was pretty mad.
JL: What can you do, though? I was there. I remember.
JL: What is your favorite show you’ve ever seen?
KP: That’s impossible to answer, but a show that changed my musical outlook and direction in a lot of ways was seeing Fugazi at Club Dreamerz (which is now Nick’s Beer Garden) in 1989. It was absolutely packed, whatever that was for Dreamerz. Maybe three hundred people, tops? Fugazi was on tour between their two EPs—the first EP and the Margin Walker EP, which eventually became a thirteen song compilation. It was June, and there were just as many people outside who didn’t get in as there were people inside who did. You could hear the show from the sidewalk, and I remember Fugazi dedicating a song to the dudes who were out there. I was about halfway back on the floor, right in front of the mixing board, and I found the milk crate that the microphone cables were probably kept in (I didn’t know this at the time, but thinking back on it, it was probably where Chucky Cheetah, who did sound at that club, had his cables). I flipped that over and made myself 6’10”, and had what was probably the best view in the house. It was also one of the first shows where I saw people who I considered famous who were also accessible. You could just go talk to ‘em after the show.
KP: Ian MacKaye! I was a punk rock kid! He was my hero!
JL: I thought you were talking about people in the audience.
KP: No, I wouldn’t have known anybody then. It would’ve had to have been Robert DeNiro for me to have recognized him at that point in my life. Or Farrah Fawcett.
JL: How many shows did you see at Dreamerz?
KP: Not many. I still lived out in the burbs, and that neighborhood was really scary to me at the time. I remember trying to find parking within a block of Dreamerz or within a block of Czar Bar, and if it was more than a block away I was freaked out. Probably overreacting, but I didn’t know any better.
JL: I never went to Czar Bar or Dreamerz.
KP: Somewhere I have some really great pictures of Trenchmouth that I took at Czar Bar. I also have a VHS tape of Trenchmouth at the Turners Club in Elgin. At the end of it, Fred (Armisen, the Trenchmouth drummer and current Saturday Night Live cast member) does a little bit of standup. Foreshadowing the future.
KP: This was an old VHS camera that was, you know, like a foot-and-a-half long. I stood in the back and taped the show, and then afterwards I just went up and started talking to ‘em. They were my favorite band back then. I saw ‘em many, many times. And Fred Armisen saw the camera and went off on this improv thing, which at the time I just thought was rocker-dude-being-funny. But now...he obviously has a skill for it.
JL: What do you think were the best bands of that era?
KP: Which era? Late ‘80s? Early ‘90s?
JL: Well, I’m too young for late ‘80s, but I’m thinking of that Trenchmouth era. Early ‘90s.
KP: Trenchmouth, Scissor Girls...
JL: Trenchmouth, Jacks, Scissor Girls...
KP: Jacks. Yes. What’s that band from Baltimore? Candy Machine.
JL: I never saw Candy Machine.
KP: They were one of the best shows I saw, and the ticket price was two dollars. Trenchmouth, Candy Machine, and Scissor Girls at a place called the Hub Theater. It was an old movie theater, and someone broke into the projection room and was showing movie trailers before each band. That inspired the dudes from Trenchmouth to go out and buy all white clothing, and then show movies on top of themselves while they played. They became the screen.
KP: Yeah. And it was two bucks. In 1992.
JL: So, who else was there around then? I remember Tortoise being amazing back then. Gastro del Sol was incredible...
KP: Tortoise’s first single came out in 1993.
JL: Remember the 90 Day Men back then? They were fucking good, man.
KP: Yeah, they were good. That was when I split town for a few years, though.
JL: You split right around the time when I started working at Fireside and was really finding myself.
KP: That’s when I was finding myself.
JL: That’s a hell of a place to find yourself.
KP: Well, it worked out that way.
JL: I remember standing around the soundboard when Azita (Youssefi) was mixing at the Fireside just so I could bum her cigarettes because I thought she was so cool. I just wanted to have the opportunity to give her a cigarette when she asked for one. U.S. Maple...god. I called Darren Gray last night or the night before because I wanted to talk to him because Danny had died. I had watched these YouTube videos of the Grand Ulena playing from eight or nine years ago. I was watching it like it was yesterday. There were these little things that Darren was doing: he’d be shredding through like a thousand notes, and then there would be this two-bar break, and he’d tip his hat to the crowd.
JL: I remember him doing that like it was yesterday. So I was sitting there watching the video and thinking, “I must have been at this show.” Then, at the beginning of this sixteen-minute song, Danny knocks one of the tom mikes over onto the tom, and you can see me—the young me—jumping on stage to grab the mike and put it back in place. just for a split second. I’m watching the video and I’m like, “That’s me!” I’m wearing a fedora and I have khaki pants on.
JL: God damn, the Grand Ulena was incredible. They used to rehearse in the dark so if the lighting was bad on stage on tour they couldn't be stopped. The most intense band I’ve ever seen. You saw them play, right?
KP: Yeah. I saw them at South by Southwest with you.
KP: It was the year you and I went because it was the first time Earth was going to tour in like a thousand years.
JL: (claps his hands) That was the first time I ever went to Austin!
KP: We thought “Holy crap! They’re actually playing a show in the United States! We’re going!”
JL: They were the most important band in the world to me. And I heard that they were playing a show. Sun, the Earth cover band, convinced Earth to come out of retirement and play a show. When was that?
KP: I can check the files...
JL: You should put a list of these shows from your notebook in the magazine. I would read that. Even if I didn’t know you, I think I would read that.
KP: You have a hell of a tour coming up. You’re hitting all my favorite spots.
JL: I’m glad you think so. Most of the places we’re playing are dumps.
KP: Portland, Maine? The National in Richmond? At the National you’ve got a hot tub backstage! And a sauna!
JL: Gross. You go in those places?
JL: And two days before that, we’re playing at the 40 Watt with eleven people on stage.
KP: The 40 Watt's cool. Ask to see the place where they burn stuff. It used to be a funeral home.
JL: Sure. But Rams Head Live? The Electric Factory?
KP: Yeah. I’ve never been to The Electric Factory. But Rams Head Live can poke it.
JL: Yep. And when was the last time you did a show at the House of Blues in New Orleans? Man, that was one of the biggest dumps I’ve ever done a show in. For being a huge corporation anyway...
KP: I worked House of Blues in New Orleans for Pinback on September 26, 2007. I cut New Orleans some slack, given all the shit they've been through.
JL: I give the city all the slack in the world, but a huge corporation like House of Blues that takes care of all the details in all of their other venues has really let that place go.
KP: You’re going to Missoula! See, I want to go to Missoula. I want to go to Boise.
JL: Why? Why do you want to go to those places?
KP: I love Boise. I haven’t been to Missoula, but I have an acquaintance in Missoula.
JL: If they want to go to the show, let ‘em know. I certainly don’t know anyone in Missoula.
KP: If you get to Boise and you need something to do, let me know. I’m not going to say it on record, though. I’ve been sworn to secrecy on how amazing Boise is.
KP: I’m not joking. Someone from Boise made me promise not to explain to anyone how amazing Boise is.
JL: My mind is racing with the possibilities.
KP: In short, it has everything a city should have, but it only has one of each. That makes it the ideal place to stop on tour on a day off. It has one great record store; it has one great book store; it has a couple good movie theaters: one big mainstream one, and one amazing art house—one of the best art house cinemas I’ve ever been in. I’ve already said too much.
JL: I’ve had good times in Boise, but it sounds like you have it figured out.
KP: I went there for my fortieth birthday. On purpose. I chose to spend my fortieth birthday in Boise.
KP: Yeah. You’re speechless.
JL: (laughs) I’ve been there on a birthday, also.
JL: Not on purpose. I played poker all day.
KP: I got on a plane and went there for my birthday.
JL: That’s pretty serious, man. You’re a fan.
KP: Man, you’re going to Reno, too. Fuck Reno.
JL: Exactly. I’ve been told that show is not selling very well. Imagine that?
KP: I had a really rough New Year’s Eve in Reno. Pinback played. It was the equivalent of a college-age Mardi Gras on ice. It was drunk people, much younger than myself, walking through the streets of Reno on sheets of ice. Take everything stupid about young drunks, add the Mardi Gras atmosphere of New Year’s Eve, and then put them in a really dangerous situation. On ice.
JL: Wait, you’re being literal when you say “on ice?” That sounds ridiculous. How was there ice there?
KP: Reno’s up in the mountains. It’s right near Tahoe. It snows there.
JL: I was only there once, and it was hot.
KP: Well, yeah. It’s high desert. It gets really hot in the summer, and really cold in the winter. Anyway, Pinback went on after like seven hip hop acts, and they also went on after midnight, so everyone had left.
JL: That sounds awful. New Year’s Eve shows are hard.
KP: Where else are you going?
JL: Look at the beginning and the end of our tour. We’re going to Bonnaroo, and to the other hippie festival. Sasquatch. You just know that Iron & Wine got festival offers from those two festivals, and then they called the booking agent and said “What can you do to get us a show every night between those two places?” Voila!
KP: Sasquatch is pretty fun, though. I had a good time at that festival.
JL: That was the worst show of the Pavement reunion tour last year.
KP: Did you get those sweet backstage trailers overlooking the Gorge?
JL: Yeah, but as soon as LCD Soundsystem went onstage they closed the backstage down. Stephen Malkmus took his kid out to the parking lot, and then when he came back they wouldn’t let him backstage. Eventually, there were all these Pavement band members piling up, and the security guard was like “Nope! Closed stage!” The tour manager had to come over, and the production guy from the festival had to come over, and it got really nasty for a second.
KP: Those stage guys have it tough sometimes. They’re not allowed to use their brains. They’re just supposed to follow orders. That’s all.
JL: It’s hard to get mad at him, because his only job that day was to not let anyone get past him when LCD Soundsystem was on stage.
JL: I actually talked my way through the security guard. I just denied his denying me. I was like “I have to put away that drum kit. I’m still working.” And I just blazed past him. It’s a Jedi thing, man. You just have to be like “You are wrong. I am allowed to be on stage right now.”
KP: “These are not the droids that you are looking for.”
JL: “I am still working, and when my work is done, I will be out of here.”
KP: I’m ready to go back on tour.
JL: I guess. I’m pretty excited just being at home, playing with synthesizers all day.
KP: Yeah, but I haven’t been on tour since early January.
JL: I guess that is a while.
JL: When’s your next show?
KP: Coachella, with Swell Season.
JL: I remember doing a show in Albany, New York, where Glen Hansard was opening up for Bob Dylan, and he was freaking out (because he was opening for Bob Dylan). The changeover was taking a long time. We hadn’t gone through and checked everything, but the whole show was running really late and the local sound guys were getting screamed at by Bob Dylan’s production manager. So even though we weren’t ready, Glen just walked up on stage and started the set. Halfway through his first solo song, people were still trying to patch in and someone pulled his mike. He flipped. He went into “I’m going to take over this entire room by myself with no PA” mode, and he did a couple of songs like that.
KP: He’s one of the best showmen I’ve ever seen. Say what you will about his music. Even the songs I don’t like, he totally owns them.
JL: He’s one of the most charismatic people I’ve ever met, too. On stage or off.
KP: He can make a room full of talkers shut up, and a room full of wallflowers hit the dance floor. Whatever it takes, I’ve seen it.
JL: Did you hear about his White House on Saint Patrick’s Day thing?
JL: He was the band at the White House!
JL: He had to take a day off from the Frames’ tour. It was something like the night before the show, and he had to fly to D.C. because the White House called him up and invited him to play. You don’t say no to that.
KP: I didn’t hear about that! It’s weird, because he’s so down to earth. He’s one of the guys. I was really surprised to be able to hang out in Dublin with him. You’d think he wouldn’t even be able to walk down the street. I mean, he was bombarded by fans, but he takes it in stride. Goes to get his dinner at the restaurant next door to the venue. Doesn’t have a rock star attitude about anything. And he’s a member of the second biggest band from Ireland ever.
JL: He’s on that crazy next level, man.
KP: This sake’s getting better.
JL: That’s usually what happens with alcohol.
KP: My $5.49 bottle of sake that I bought at 7-Eleven. It’s still too sweet. It’s also a little sour. Not very dry, which is what I like.
JL: I’m going to go see Skull Defekts, Zomes, and Mountains at the Hideout tonight. And then tomorrow morning I get up really early to go to Portland, so my plan is to have too much to drink tonight at the show, wake up with a splitting hangover, and then get on the airplane and drink Bloody Marys.
KP: What’re you doing in Portland?
JL: Just hanging out. There was a deal on the internet for the Ace Hotel. Gwen had some frequent flyer miles.
KP: Are you a Stumptown person or a Kobos person?
JL: Well, Stumptown is the elephant in the room when you’re talking about Portland coffee. I’m planning on drinking a lot of it, myself.
KP: I actually had coffee the last time I was in Portland. Just an espresso. One’s my limit.
KP: No (laughs). I typically don’t drink the stuff. But I had to try it.
JL: My rule is one every ten minutes.
KP: That’s how you keep the metabolism so high?
KP: Anyway, I ordered a single espresso, not realizing that at Stumptown, there is no such thing. It says explicitly on the menu that I didn’t read...
JL: “...all espressos are made double ristretto. Blah blah blah.”
KP: Yeah. Something like that. I had no idea, and then I was standing there wondering why I got the dagger eyes from this little hipster girl.
JL: Baristas shouldn’t get mad at you for that. It’s like airport security. It changes all the time. In every country it’s different. In every city it’s different. Shoes on, shoes off. Shoes in the tray, shoes on the belt.
JL: And then people give you the death stare and you’re like “Look, I’ve been flying every day for the past week. I’m sorry that I didn’t follow your rules today. Don’t give me the look.”
JL: I guess it’s easy to snap on someone when you’re dealing with hundreds of people a day. Think of all the bands you’ve recorded and all the stupid shit that they’ve asked you to do. They say “Can you make my drums sound warm and punchy?” You’re like, “Really? Did you seriously just ask me that?”
KP: Or there’s the drummer who plays all ticky-tack like Stuart Copeland, and then comes in the control room and says “Make it sound like ‘When the Levee Breaks’.” Well, you’re not hitting the drums. You’re hitting only cymbals, first of all. And you’re playing a million notes a second. You aren’t going to sound like Bonham.
JL: Every craft involves its stupid questions.
KP: Yeah. That’s when I give the drummer the same look that barista at Stumptown gave me. (laughs)
JL: Whenever I give that look I realize I need to give myself a break. Get away for awhile. Gwen and I are going to Portland for four days. It’s been so long since I’ve taken a trip that didn’t have anything to do with a tour. I just want to go there and not have any plans and hang out and walk around. Eat Thai food. Party.
KP: Thai food? In Portland?
JL: Pok Pok. You have to go. My two favorite places to eat Thai in the United States are Pok Pok and Sri Pra Phai in Queens. I’ve never been to Thailand, but those are two of the best meals I’ve ever had.
KP: Better than Spoon Thai?
JL: Yes. Better than Spoon Thai. Spoon Thai has its moments, but these places are killer.
KP: Gonna go to the Doug Fir?
JL: Probably not. I prefer the Pine State Biscuits. Fake sausage biscuit sandwiches with some hashbrowns? Aw, shit. It’s quite good, man. So much good food in Portland.
KP: No baseball team, though. They left. The Portland Beavers moved to Tucson.
JL: Did you see that last Portlandia? They try to start a baseball team in the last one.
KP: Yeah, I did see that one! I didn’t realize that was the last one. The one where they interview the players on the field?
JL: Yep. The Portland Thinkers.
KP: That show was good. I only thought one episode was a failure.
JL: Yeah. It’s good. Strange. Strange is good.
KP: The tour manager for my upcoming tour is a huge baseball fan. Should be a blast. You following at all this year?
JL: I'm sorry to say I have not been following at all for the last couple of years. I had this moment a few years ago when I saw a Cubs game at Wrigley Field: rode my bike over there, had a couple of beers, saw them lose in the ninth and then paid my friend $80 for the ticket. I realized that I spent the whole day and $100 just to get really upset, and then I realized (as a Cubs fan) that all they do is bring me down. They’re like a mean girlfriend. I snapped and then I stopped following baseball. I broke up with the Cubs. All of the time and money I spent on her. I can't believe it!
KP: Stay broken up with the Cubs and get back together with the game! It's really the best game. Look at it like poker: I doubt you have a favorite poker player you root for. Besides yourself, I mean. I'll be happiest if the Sox win, but I'm really just looking to see a good game between any two teams. Except the Red Sox and Yankees.
JL: I think I'll always love the game. It is quite a bit like poker, when you break it down. My problem is that it's gotten so expensive! Just like shows. I tried to buy Neil Young tickets yesterday and they were $200 each! For Gwen and I to go see him play, it would have been $500!
KP: Yikes. There are still cheap ways to see a ball game, though. Go to Dodger Stadium, for one. Cheap seats galore in that town. Not sure how to go to Wrigley on the cheap, though. What's the last concert you paid more than $15 to see?
JL: The last time I spent money to see a big show was Prince! In Las Vegas!
KP: I'm sure Prince was worth every penny, right?
JL: It was after Sonic Youth played at Coachella and Steve and I drove to Vegas after the festival. Prince was playing private events at the Rio on the weekends whenever he felt like it. It was announced on Thursday that he was going to fly in and play that weekend, so Steve and I got tickets through the Sonic Youth manager and went. We still had to wait in line for will call and the lady came around with one of those remote credit card machines and rang Steve's card. I saw a number come out the other end that was in the 500 to 600 dollar range. I almost fainted. We had our own table with bottle service and Steve doesn't drink so I thought, “Fuck it. I just paid a fortune to see this. I'm getting champagne.” So I watched Prince play for three hours and got very intoxicated. It was one of the greatest things I've ever seen. Prince is the only guy on Earth that can play his own records before he comes on and get away with it.
KP: Sounds amazing. Good champagne?
JL: Yeah, it was pretty good champagne. After a bottle of it, it was pretty fantastic. I've never seen a performer as efficient as Prince. Every move his body made was calculated. It was like a movie. He doesn't waste a calorie on anything.
KP: I really have to see Prince one of these days. He's on the short list of those I haven't seen already that I must.
JL: I'm going to have to agree. I think once is enough though: in three hours he may have only played one or two songs that I recognized.
KP: Who's left that you feel like you must see that you haven't already?
JL: Well, there aren't that many. Sometimes I get worried about seeing a band for the first time beyond their prime and having it be a bummer. I really wish I never saw Throbbing Gristle. I saw my first show in Brooklyn, and they were really terrible, and now my only real Throbbing Gristle live experience is totally tainted. Sadly, one of the only older acts that really blew me away in the past few years was Neil Young, and now I can’t see him play because it's too expensive. I'm afraid that Gwen has to see him play once though. Who do I have to see? Brian Eno, maybe?
KP: Does he still perform?
JL: I don't think so. And his performances could be super hit or miss. But he seems to be the only one that popped in my head who is still alive.
KP: I feel like I should see Tom Waits once. I don't really care about him anymore, but considering I have about a dozen of his records and used to love them, I probably should.
JL: He seems like someone that would put on a killer show. I’ve always wanted to see Radiohead, too. I've heard their shows are really fantastic, but I've never seen them.
KP: I hope to cross paths with Radiohead at a festival or something along the way. I don't see myself buying a ticket, but would definitely check them out if given the chance. Ever seen AC/DC? It might be too late.
JL: Yes, AC/DC has always been on my list. Mainly because of you. I'm afraid it may be too late, but they might still have it. You and I get to see a lot of bands at festivals we are working. That’s why it’s so hard to pay $500 to see Neil Young: the last time I saw him I was standing on the side of the stage for free! He had a closed stage, but Sonic Youth was playing after him at a festival and I (ahem) had to have access to my monitor console while the "opening band" was playing.
JL: What's going to happen to all of your bands now that you have moved?
KP: Phantom Works is pressing onward via riff-swapping over the Internet.
JL: So crazy how both of us are now studio-less. I just saw pictures of the old Semaphore space with all new things inside.
KP: I saw some Semaphore pictures, too. Weird. To the future!
JL: Yeah, the future. I'll be honest with you, I haven't missed running my studio for a second. I have my own little house set up where I jam on synths all day and don't have to worry about anything. I'm actually recording Disappears tomorrow in my house. There is a long history of records being made in this apartment and I'm kind of excited to be extending it. I'll use the big studios when I need ‘em and do the rest here. I'm sitting here, talking to you right where John Fahey recorded Womblife. I still feel like I'm sixteen when I think about things like that.
KP: Nice! Recording at the Steam Room! I guess the Steam Room in Tokyo got tossed around a bit, but Jim (O'Rourke)'s okay.
JL: I heard that, too. Jim and I were talking about modular synths and then the earthquake happened. That poor guy. He was two blocks away from the World Trade Towers on September 11, and now this.
KP: Crazy. Let's hope this stuff doesn't actually come in threes for him.
JL: Man. Let’s talk about something nice, eh?
Dan Duffy is a Chicago-based bartender and freelance writer. He is currently finishing up work on an experimental novel entitled I Am Not the Dog. He is founding editor and publisher of Handshake Media.
kaledo-art
stormborns
ellievsbear
origamiaround
baratheonpilled
prguitarman
titsay