Lisa Mrock @thesomethingblog - Tumblr Blog

Interview: Frank Turner

If 1,500+ words is too much to read, then you can read the edited-for-word-count interview here. Otherwise, here’s the full thing. This was done right after the American elections and before his 2000th show, so all his plans for that show have already happened. I was a little rusty after not having interviewed anyone for months, but I knew going into this that Frank is an easy, friendly person to interview, so that calmed my nerves. I also had a mishap with the phone number (dialing an international number is a fantastic way to discover you can’t make international calls from your phone unless you pay an extra $5 per month). If you ever get the chance to interview or simply talk with him, I encourage you to do so.

Frank: Hi, how’re you doing? Sorry I missed you earlier. I’ve got interviews coming out of my ass.

Lisa Mrock: It’s fine. It’s completely fine. The publication I write is called Chicago Innerview. It’s an online magazine. Just gonna ask you some questions and it should take around fifteen-

Frank: Give me two seconds just to say goodbye to the last people that were interviewing me and I will be right with you.

LM: Sounds good.

Frank: Cool. [says goodbye to other interviewers] Hello, right. I’m with you. Chicago.

LM: Alright. First question. Your 2000th show is coming up, so first of all congratulations.

FT: Thank you.

LM: What sort of special plans do you have in store for that?

FT: It’s mad to put it this way – a thousand shows ago – when we did our thousandth show, I wasn’t planning to make a big deal about it, but when it came along, if nothing else, it’s an excuse for a party because it’s a different kind of show, so we did that. We’re doing it again this year. I’m playing a show at Nottingham Rock City, which is my favorite venue in the world. We’re going to be documenting the show for some form of release in the future, I haven’t quite lined that out yet. The most exciting thing about it to me is that the first support for the evening, I’ve got a band called The Tailors. The Tailors were a London country band in the early 2000s... they were my favorite band back then, and they were a big part of the reason why I started playing acoustic-based music, and I got them to reunite for the show, and I’m actually playing guitar in the band, so I’m very excited about that.

LM: It’s been about a year and a half since Positive Songs For Negative People was released, and looking back on the album, were there certain ideas you wanted to do but weren’t able to?

FT: Not really with that particular album. The whole vibe of Positive Songs was me essentially telling everybody else in my sort of world and organization to piss off because I had a very, very, very clear idea of what I wanted that record to be. I was very fired up. You know, sometimes to go to make a record and you’re not entirely sure of how it’s going to come out when you come out the studio. I sort of felt like I knew what that record sounded like 6 months before we got anywhere near a studio, and I was on a real stubborn mission to make it that, which I’ve succeeded in doing. Looking back on it, I think there are parts of it that could be done differently... but for that individual record, that was sort of what it was supposed to be. It was my very sort of defiant like, “this is me, this is what I do, and everyone else fuck off,” kind of record. And it was successful as such.

LM: It’s also been a year and a half since your book The Road Beneath My Feet came out and I was wondering if it’s made you want to be more earnest in keeping a tour diary?

FT: No, not really. The thing about it is I didn’t actually keep a journal from which I constructed the book from. Particularly, I went back and remembered stuff... my previously infallible memory of shows was starting to fray at the edges and there were things I could no longer remember, so I wanted to set stuff down while the ideas were still in my head. It was fun to do and it was cool. People have asked whether I’m going to do another book because that one finished in 2012. I’m not sure I’d do another one in the same vein, simple because that book is about how you get from playing basements and bars to playing in an arena show or whatever, so I don’t think then a book about kind of continuing to exist at that certain level in the industry is quite as interesting. Having said that, it’s certainly given me a taste for the business of writing books. It was a lot harder than I expected it to be, but it was commensurately rewarding, and I really enjoyed the process of finishing it. I’ve been really thinking about writing another book, but just maybe about something different.

LM: As of recent you’ve spoken out about the American elections. You tend to stay away from politics. What made you want to speak out about them?

FT: Part of the reason why I tend to shy away from politics is I don’t think musicians are particularly well-qualified to comment on it, and I don’t think the medium in which they work, which for the most part are song and social media, are conducive to intelligent comment. But the American elections struck me as very important. I have very strong feelings about it, and it struck me as reason enough to break myself from a post embargo momentarily. Hopefully the piece I wrote and put out there was respectful of the fact that I’m not American, and it’s not directly my business to pass comment on who anyone should vote for. It seemed important to me. Things didn’t go the way I was hoping they would go, but it has not dimmed my passion for America as a country, and I’ve been gladdened to see the level of reasonable defiance coming from much of my American friends.

Me: I read what you wrote and it definitely was respectful, you hit the nail on the head.

FT: Good to know.

LM: And then America dropped the ball.

FT: [laughs]

LM: You’ve written a lot of songs about other people, but I’m wondering, has anyone ever written a song about you?

FT: Yes, although not always in a way I’ve particularly appreciated. There’s a couple of people who’ve sort of name-dropped me in songs. I know that the guys in Bowling For Soup keep name-dropping me in songs, but they’re lovely. They’ve always done it in a lovely, friendly kind of way, and that’s fine. There’s been one or two. Somebody wrote a slightly barbed political song about me. I don’t think anyone really noticed, so life went on.

LM: Where’s a place you haven’t played yet that you’d absolutely love to play?

FT: The short answer to that is anywhere I haven’t played. I’m trying to get to all 50 states. One of the fortunes I have in this life is I get to go to different places, different parts of the world, through the medium of being a musician, which always strikes me as sort of hilariously unlikely but also wonderful. Top of my list right now is South America. I’m very keen to get there and we are working on something right now.

LM: If you could write a song about a certain food item or kind of food, or just a place you like to eat at, what would it be?

FT: Buffalo wings. We don’t have buffalo wings in the U.K. It’s just not a thing. It’s a source of enormous sadness for me because whenever I go to America I’m in B-Dubs so we can breathe in. I’m a big fan.

LM: What’s something people assume about you that isn’t true, and something they wouldn’t or don’t assume that actually is true?

FT: I’m not trying to dodge the question, but the nature of what I do for a living is that, even to the small degree I am, being a public figure means people assume until the fucking cows come home every aspect about me and about my life. I’ve read such hilarious bullshit about myself online in all different directions over the years, and you have to learn to ignore it, really. I’ve seen mad claims about me personally, politically, whatever else, all of which were bullocks, and you just have to hold onto the fact that the people who matter are gonna know who you are. I’ve seen a lot of silly shit. Off the top of my head, one of the silliest ones is somebody at one point thought I was Alex Turner’s uncle, which is annoying to me because I’m not fucking old. People assume lots of things... I communicate through my music.

LM: I think collectively the world’s been looking forward to 2017 since about June, but what are you looking forward to most next year? What does 2017 have in store for you?

FT: Well, like anybody in my shoes I’ve got a lot of irons in the fire... and I’m looking forward to see which of those come to fruition. I’m not just working on a new record for myself, I’ve got various side projects... I think the most concrete thing I’m looking forward to next year is the tour that we’re doing in January and February because it’s gonna be my biggest American tour to date. I’ve spent a lot of time and energy slogging around the States in the last two years, and it’s really exciting to see that start to pay off. We’re doing our first headlining arena show outside the U.K. in Boston in February and stuff like that. It’s very exciting for me.

Tripping on Laces

I spent Thanksgiving with the family, eating honey baked ham from Chicagoland Ham, hearty helpings of sweet potatoes, corn, and pie, and paid the price. I slept in a food coma from midnight to 2am, awoken by my dog who busted through my door to say goodnight to me, a normal nightly occurrence that’s always worth it, because dogs are the best.

From that point, I tossed, turned, sweated, and talked to myself. One thing I did know was I couldn’t get a lick of sleep. Around 4:45 in the morning, I figured the only thing that would get me good and tired would be Black Friday shopping.

I hauled ass from bed, threw on whatever clothes had been tossed on my desk chair in the past week, and rode the bus to the train, and then rode the train from Belmont and Sheffield down to Chicago and State, surrounded by bleary-eyed service workers bogged down by the fluorescent light in the train, and a few folks sleeping across the seats having successfully counted enough sheep, doing on a barely-heated rickety train what I couldn’t do on a mattress in room temperature.

I stepped off at Chicago and State and made my way from underground onto the street level. The McDonald’s there had a few ghosts in there poking fries into their mouths half-asleep. The Chik-Fil-A was closed, but the lights were on and the workers there sat around eating, talking, probably preparing for the Black Friday crowds looking for sustenance. I passed through a block’s worth of scaffolding -- a web of metal pipes and wooden planks leading toward the Water Tower Place Mall, sharply lit and crisp. That’s when I heard a person behind me walking faster and faster.

I’m no fool -- it was night, I was alone, and this person was gaining. Without looking over my shoulder, I ran up to the hotel at the corner. If I got stabbed, at least the doorman and valet would see. I turned around and...

It was a woman, your stereotypical Roscoe Village Ashley in Lululemon running pants, running jacket, neon headband, and black gym shoes with neon green shoe laces untied. She sort of half-waddled to keep from tripping on her laces, which flapped with every step she took. This woman powered through like I’d never seen before.

I. Was. In. Awe. She wasn’t gonna let untied shoes keep her from waiting another thirty seconds from snagging those running pants she’s had her eye on for the past two months. She’s been waiting patiently, looking online every day, making sure they’re still in stock, calling to make sure they will be available on Black Friday at this specific store. She’d waited too long goddammit, and now, those compression leggings, with the insulation technology for winter jogs, were going to be hers.

Or maybe she didn’t realize her shoes were untied. I lightly followed her, and before she crossed the street, I shouted, “Your shoes are untied!”

She turned her head slightly, still power-walking her way to the mall, and said with a smirk, “I know,” turned back around, and went on her way in absolute resolve.

#Black Friday #Chicago

Full Interview: Patrick Stickles of Titus Andronicus

My personal health issues got in the way and I never got around to posting the full interview I did with Patrick Stickles. The guy’s got a lot of ideas and he’s realistic about his position in life (as a 30something, rock band member, music writer, etc.). Interviewing him was fun and I only managed to be halfway awkward.

Patrick Stickles: Hey Lisa, this is Patrick Stickles.

Lisa Mrock: Hey! Super sorry about being so late.

Patrick Stickles: It’s completely alright.

Lisa Mrock: I always get confused about who’s calling who, because half the time it’s one, and the other half of the time it’s the other.

PS: Right, right. It’s no problem. I’m just hanging out anyway. Y’know, it’s Sunday.

LM: Where are you right now? New York?

PS: Yeah, New York City, that’s where I live. Just looking out my window at all the snow. We had quite a big snow storm yesterday. I don’t know if you saw it on the news or anything.

LM: It’s been all over the news. PS: It’s pretty snowy outside. How’s the weather in Chicago? Pretty cold I’m sure.

LM: We had a few really cold days, but it’s supposed to get up to the 30s this week.

PS: The 30s? Wouldn’t that be a treat.

LM: So, I write for a website called Chicago Innerview. They write about bands that are coming into town doing shows and whatnot.

PS: How perfect, because we got a band that’s coming to town to do a show.

LM: I know! Super convenient!

PS: All too perfect.

LM: I think the venue is Thalia Hall.

PS: Thalia Hall, that’s right. We’ve never been there before. Do you know anything about it?

LM: No. It’s a newer venue. It’s only been around for a year or two. But I hear good things about it.

PS: I guess we’re gonna see. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be great. Chicago is a real rockin’ town. You’ve been real kind to us over the years. Hope to have a good time there. Have some good friends there.

LM: There’s something different about Chicago when it comes to music. The appreciation I see especially when it comes to, well... we’re all just super enthusiastic.

PS: Absolutely. Well, the city has a really rich history, right? Chess Records and stuff.

LM: Yeah, and the venues too. Lincoln Hall I think was voted as one of the best music venues in the country or something, and of course there’s Metro which is legendary.

PS: We’ve played both those places a couple times. I think our last two shows were at Lincoln Hall. It’s a nice place.

LM: I have a few questions about the new album, but the first question is just sort of a general one. A number of your songs reference other songs that you’ve done, and have similar titles, and there’s a feeling for me that every new song or album is a continuation of a song or album before it. Is that intentional or am I reading too much into that?

PS: No, no, it is intentional, and I do want you and all the listeners to read too much into it. I don’t think it’s too much. It’s an attempt to create an immersive sort of universe so that rather than someone getting into one song or one album, they can get into the whole band entity, the whole catalogue, the whole thing that we’re doing. I like to look at it as one piece. It’s one body of work that one thing continues, builds upon the last thing. It’s just something I picked up from our future tourmate Craig Finn, you know, his band The Hold Steady very much did the same thing. I think it encourages a more intense level of commitment and dedication to the project.

LM: So the new album, [The Most Lamentable Tragedy] is a rock opera. What felt right about making a rock opera versus a regular album?

PS: Well, you know, I just had certain intentions, I had things I wanted to say. I wanted to tell a story about my personal struggles, and everything that I wanted to say couldn’t necessarily fit into a three-minute song, so the idea was to break it up into a sequence of feelings and ideas ands string them together in such a way that it would paint a larger, more complete picture. And I’ve always appreciated albums like that, or any kind of work of art that has a certain thematic unity. We see it all the time in books, movies, and things like that, plays, and nobody would think twice about that, like a novel or something would be all different moments, kind of coming together to create one bigger idea, so why not apply the same thing to a record? They’re all just means of communicating ideas, they’re vessels for the author’s message, you know what I’m saying?

LM: Yeah. I do writing on the side so for me it’s like some things need to be five hundred words and some things need to be two thousand.

PS: Yeah, exactly You don’t want to be hemmed in. A lot of these restrictions are just arbitrary, you know – five paragraph essays, 45-minute rock albums. It’s not good to always be trapped by those things. That’s not what’s gonna get your point across. You should just discard it.

LM: Go with wherever the art takes you, basically.

PS: Exactly. That has to come first, rather than some arbitrary rule about the form of it. If it gets the point across, that’s what matters. And also, putting out a record like this one that’s a lot longer than your average rock record, it’s kind of saying to the audience, please don’t come to this with a lot of expectations and predetermined ideas about what something like this is supposed to be, and just take it for what it is, accept it on its own terms. Sometimes it’s not good to go out of your way to fit into the expectations of the audience.

LM: Because then you’re not doing it for yourself, you’re doing it for them.

PS: Yes, because you start to pander that way, and that’s no way to make good art.

LM: Was it intimidating to take on a full rock opera?

PS: Eh, not so much. It got to be a lot of work and it took a really long time, but we’ve made albums that were pretty long before. The second-longest one is sixty-five minutes, so, it’s not such a stretch to do a ninety-three minute one. At the time when we started out doing it, it seemed like there’d be nothing to it. When we got more into it, then it was like, “Oh gee whiz.” In situations like that, you gotta just put your head down, power through, and keep chippin away at it, and when it’s all over, it’ll be hopefully close to what you wanted it to be. It kind of takes on its own life in that process, but the artist just has to have faith. Obviously, there’s always gonna be moments of doubt, but you push through these things and just try your best basically.

LM: When you began writing it, did you already have some of the material written?

PS: When I got the idea to do a rock opera, I didn’t really have any songs in the can at that point. Maybe there were some riffs and stuff, some stuff that was left over from our last record, but I got this idea, when I got the idea to do the record I was in a very dark place, very depressed, not very creative at all, but I said to myself, if I had the will to be creative again, it would be good to make some kind of piece of art about this experience that I’m having, and considering I work in this rock band, a rock album would be the most appropriate medium to tell that story, and because I would need a good amount of time to tell it, a rock opera would be just as appropriate.

So I had the idea and then took that around for a while, and kind of just had it around in my brain. Eventually, I wrote a couple songs that sort of indicated the way forward and then ome day I was able to draft a little story and say, “I’m gonna need this sort of song here to communicate this idea, and this sort of song here to communicate that idea,” and then just plugged away at it for a long time, like a whole year I suppose, and just had to tailor my songwriting around those things. But that made it easier in a lot of ways because when it comes time to write a song, and you pick up a guitar or whatever, there’s a porblem where you can say, “Well I can write about anything in the entire world, and one thing is pretty much as good as the other to write about, so what am I gonna do?” And you’re paralyzed by the limitless options you have, but because I had a certain outline and place and scenes I wanted to address, that narrowed the field down considerably. It made a lot of the decisions for me. That made it easier to be decisive and to move forward instead of ruminating endlessly on all the things in the world I could talk about it.

LM: It gave you more focus.

PS: Yeah, exactly.

LM: One of the things talked about in the record is how our main guy in the record hates being awake and hates the arrival of dawn, and when talking with people with depression, and from my own personal experiences, one of things all of us have in common is that we sleep all day and stay awake all night.

PS: Yes.

LM: I guess my main question is what do you think makes the night more bearable than the day? Why is it more bearable to be awake at night than in the daytime?

PS: That’s a good question. I guess, right now, I’m looking out the window, I see all these people going about their day, the sun is out. I guess there’s a certain impetus to go out and do something, but when you’re depressed and not motivated and you don’t really wanna do anything, you wanna defy that impetus. There’s also the element of dreams, the peace we find in dreams, maybe because they’re not real. You can float in there and be free from responsibility, you know, rather than feel like you’re getting dragged through life. You know what I’m saying?

LM: Yeah, I do. And there’s also less people around at night. I always find myself at my most alone and solitary.

PS: Yeah of course. That’s part of it too. The character in the record starts out in a very antisocial place, and maybe that’s because having other people around kind of holds up a mirror to ourselves in a way, and depending on how we feel at the time, that can force us to confront what we perceive as our flaws and faults, stuff like that.

LM: Do you do most of your writing at night?

PS: Um, it depends on when I get my alone time. It can be hard to write at night in the city because you don’t wanna wake the neighbors up. I guess I’d say it’s easier to write the lyrics at night after everybody’s gone to bed, and write music in the daytime when everybody else is at work or something.

LM: What was your main goal in writing The Most Lamentable Tragedy, and do you think you achieved it?

PS: Well, I guess my main goal was to just articulate a certain part of my earthly experience in the hopes that it could reach other people that have gone through similar experiences. This is something that lots of different pieces of art, especially rock n roll, have done for me.

At times when I was feeling very alone and alienated, and misunderstood, certain artists were able to tell me that I wasn’t completely alone in the world, that there were other people in the world who felt what I did, even if they weren’t right in front of me in my personal life. It’s why I hoped I would be able to do version of that and put out the truest most honest expression of my feelings, not 100% self-obsessed, but working with a knowledge that there would be people out there who felt the same way, and in articulating my feelings, I could somewhat articulate their feelings too, just like those other artists did for me. And I feel like I achieved that because I’ve heard from a lot of people since the record came out that the songs on the record and stuff discussed on the record does reflect the way that they feel in a way that other records or pieces of art haven’t, and that it gave them some kind of strength, or made them feel better and a little less alone. In that regard I feel it was a pretty big success. It would’ve been cool if it made me a million dollars also. That’s a lot harder it turns out.

But I hear from people that they feel the same way and they appreciate it, so it’s kind of a mutual validation exercise from the audience you know, that’s really what I’m after more than any kind of commercial success or building any kind of critical consensus, which is a tough thing for a rock and roll band to do nowadays.

LM: What makes it hard?

PS: Just the times in which we live. Rock n roll isn’t the dominant culture anymore. It isn’t really what the kids are into. People my age, I’m 30 years old, so a lot of people who are maybe into the band or into the whole rock and roll scene when we were starting out at the age of 22 or something, have very possibly gone onto other stages of their lives.

Maybe they’re not going out to the shows as much as they used, maybe they’re not buying every new record that comes out anymore, but I gotta stick with it. It’s my life’s work, so to speak. But we’re fortunate that a lot of people are sticking with us, and even if we’re not the cool new thing whatever that is, people still care about the band and have stuck with us through all these years. It’s a good thing. But, they’re just not making that many rock stars anymore. Now it’s rap musicians. Too many stars. It’s kind of becomes like jazz. It’s an academic art form now. You don’t get into it because you’re gonna make bundle a money or be super famous.

When we started out, back in 2005, there was still an inkling that you could make a bunch of money and be super famous, bands like The Arcade Fire, and the White Stripes, and whatever, who were big things at that point, but there don’t seem to be too many bands like that anymore. But that’s alright because it creates less temptation for the rock musician to try to pander to a supposed mass audience, saying like, “That feels a certain way in my heart about how I wanna do things, but, I really would rather be rich and famous, so I’ll do something else that isn’t necessarily what my heart wants.” It’s more pointless now to do that because you can hardly get to be rich and famous to do anything.

#Titus Andronicus #The Most Lamentable Tragedy #Patrick Stickles #band

How To Contact An Interview Subject

I wrote a piece for Chicago Literati about how to interview a person, but I could only skim how to go about getting that interview. I covered the most basic ways pretty well, but not the oddball, 90% ineffective ways to go about getting them. The normal way to go about contacting an interview subject only goes so far, but sometimes, figuring out a way to contact an interview subject is a horrible experience, and I consider popping out my eyeballs with a crowbar. Instead of creating a hypothetical situation of having difficulty contacting a subject, I will undergo my own harrowing experiences.

Lorde: I was supposed to interview her for Chicago Innerview, and whoever her PR was said the interview would be a sure thing, and then it never happened. The only entity at fault for this is circumstance, but what I did was email her other PR reps and eventually tried calling. Actually I might’ve forgotten to do that last part, but the point is, this was the first time I went outside my comfort zone in trying to attain an interview. From here on out, I realized I’d have to be more aggressive next time.

Kurt Loder: I know what you’re probably thinking: who? It’s okay. Most people born after 1990 have no clue who he is. He was a hugely influential Rolling Stone writer and MTV VJ/Host/all-around music. When given an assignment to interview someone with my dream job -- or in his case, used to have my dream job -- I thought, “Who’s well-known to me, but not other people?” Contacting him was near impossible though. I was afraid of doing it over Twitter (I think it’s unprofessional and will take every other avenue before considering Twitter as a means to contact a subject), but he has no website or any other means of contact. Plus on Twitter, he posts mostly links and talks with colleagues. Seeing that he writes film reviews for The Reason, his email wasn’t listed, but the website’s contact info said to email one of the editors if you need to communicate with one of the staff writers. It was my best shot, and I took it, and the editor responded with Kurt’s email. I emailed Kurt, and through a little back and forth, he graciously replied to all of my questions.

Long story short: I had to send an email to another person to get his email to talk to him. There is no easier way to explain this. I have tried. By God, have I tried. Point is I got it and now I have an old as hell interview gathering dust on my computer that got me an A in my college’s portfolio class.

Andy Schuon: I’m thinking of putting this in a separate post because this really shouldn’t have worked out. I emailed a pitch to the editor of Noisey (Vice’s music section) Dan Ozzi with an idea to write about a defunct music channel that played music from America as well as other countries stretching from France to Cambodia, fully expecting to never hear back and wallow in self pity. In this pitch, I mentioned that I would interview Andy Schuon, the channel’s creator, who is currently Sean “Diddy” Combs’ business partner in the music channel REVOLT. Even worse, I specifically said getting Schuon for an interview would be “easy,” because I am an idiot. Lo and behold, I received an email two days later saying the idea was interesting, asking if I wanted to take a crack at it.

Obviously, I said “yes” immediately, then thought, “crap,” because it meant I actually had to write the damn thing, and what I’d already “written” was a document with one original paragraph and too much copy-and-pasted information with all the links cited. On top of that, Andy Schuon had virtually no contact information listed. I couldn’t find a website of his own, didn’t see any contact info on REVOLT’s site outside of the standard press inquiry email, he doesn’t tweet a whole lot -- meaning he doesn’t check Twitter that often -- and I didn’t want to call a rep saying, “Hey, I need to interview him for an article that I might destroy.” I felt much more comfortable contacting him directly.

My breakthrough came with some critical thinking. He has a Twitter, what most people get so they can make their basic social media presence requirement. Above everything, Schuon is a businessman, a family man, so he’s practical. What social media platform do these types use to keep tabs on companies, trends, and some light business news?

LinkedIn.

I searched and came upon his profile. One problem -- the only way to contact him was to add him as a connection. Thankfully, I am a desperate individual and added this man who I do not know straightaway. The next obstacle was that the small little message box had a limited character capacity. In two or three sentences, I outlined, who I was, who I was writing for (Vice), what I was writing about (The International Music Feed), if I could have his contact information, and clicked “Send.” This was a stupid, stupid, stupid, dumb plan. I had no doubt it would crash and burn.

Two days later, I received a message on LinkedIn with the sentence, “Long live IMF,” and his email and phone number.

We went back and forth for a while, and for fear that I wouldn’t be able to interview him after all, I prepared a draft and was two seconds from sending it to Ozzi before Schuon emailed saying he’d made some time for me, and that he’d be bringing in Greg Drebin, who was his right hand man at IMF. I looked him up and found out that he’s now the Senior Vice President of Worldwide Marketing at 20th Century Fox. Cut to me thinking, “DO NOT RUIN THIS.” I didn’t know exactly how a person could ruin this situation, but I’m sure it’s been done.

The next day, the interview finally happened, and it’s one of my favorite interviews I’ve ever done because it went from being just another interview, to being a conversation between three people of something we all loved and connected to. Plus, I now have him as a LinkedIn connection.

Lately, it’s been hard to get interviews. It’s a combination of subjects already backed up on press, and me not trying as hard as I could or should. But I promise that for my next assignment, I will try every avenue and dig as far as I can to get that interview.

#interviews #vice #imf #international music feed #lorde #kurt loder #revolt tv

In 2005, two guys were given two months to create a music video channel called IMF. It failed, but it had a glorious run.

Read my new article on Noisey about the International Music Feed, a channel you wish existed today.

#Vice #Noisey #IMF #International Music Feed #2005 Week

#FlashbackFriday to more meaningful conversations I have with musicians because I am important.

#outing frank turner #busted

A Detour on the 4th of July

Alleys and sidestreets breathed smoke and sulfur as I walked home last night. I detoured past houses and through parks and playgrounds to watch the fireworks in action from start to finish, but by the time I got there everyone had left behind smoking boxes with brand names found along much of the Illinois-Indiana border.

Before whites moved in, before the popular eateries, and before repurposed old shoe factories, Avondale was a working class Latino neighborhood. Summer meant lawn chairs were unfolded and set on the front porch, and Mom and one of our neighbors sat on them watching me and my sister and the other neighborhood kids play Bottle Cap, Tag, or ride our bikes around the neighborhood. We covered the sidewalks in chalk while rusted Toyotas and Hondas with mismatched colors drove by, filling the street with Spanish love songs and mariachi music that flowed from tinny radios. I didn’t understand the Spanish around me, but as a kid, I thought it was English I had yet to learn.

Now, there are less children. More people my age, in their 20s, live on the street. Most of the Spanish they heard growing up came from a Taco Bell commercial. The names I see scratched into cement ten years ago had to move when they were taxed out of their property. The Red Eye called the area the “new Wicker Park” a few years ago. There’s a fitness gym.

No matter what, gentrification can’t take away our 4th of July. This one day every year, everything goes back to how it was, and it feels like 2003 again. Indiana fireworks shoot from roofs and alleys, and my neighbors shout and celebrate and dance around the candles and fires that keep the mosquitoes away. Mainly though, it reminds me of the best 4th of July I’ve ever had.

I was ten, it was around 2002, and a gang of teens set up shop in the middle of the intersection. My sister, my dad, and I sat on the front porch to see what they were doing. My dad sat on the lawn chair, my sister and I sat on the concrete steps waving sparklers like wands that weren’t illegal yet, and we watched them haul out their supplies. Some of them got their little brothers in on the action while most of the girls watched from their own front porch steps along the block.

The sun had set, and one of them with tattoos up and down his arms stood alone in the street, leaning over the mortar, He lit the fuse and sprinted to the street corner. His foot hit the curb at the exact moment the mortar fired and shot the fireworks straight into the air. It exploded above us in streaks of gold with red tips. A teen in a baggy white shirt and jean shorts with torn hems reaching down to his knees followed suit, setting up the next one, lighting it, and running away. It flew into the air and burst into a white shower like a willow tree.

My father and sister and I leaned our heads upward as our neighborhood sky became a kaleidoscope of red, yellow, purple, blue, green, and orange. It was better than going to Navy Pier, better than going to the golf course in the suburbs, the only time people like us would even be allowed into a golf course, and watching the explosions from a mile under them. These seemed close enough to touch. Then, it really was.

The fuse lit. The teen ran away as the fire burned further up the fuse until it hit the explosive. It didn’t fly into the air. It shook helplessly in the mortar, spitting out sparks.

“RUN!”

The teens spread out along our part of the block hiding along the sides of bungalows and behind trees. Some didn’t stop running. My sister and I ran up the steps, ready to run down the door when the mortar blew. Red sparks the size of baseballs followed by tails of gold shot down all directions of the intersection and dissipated at the end of each block, leaving behind nothing but smoke and sulfur that rose into a thin cloud over trees and rooftops. The mortar was still there. The teens strolled back to the street corner like nothing happened, bent down to check for damage, and got the next one ready.

Fog on a Detour

#4th of july #nostalgia #home #fireworks #explosions #possible death and danger #Chicago

Interview: Todd Fink of The Faint

Another interview that lasted a little too long. This is probably my third favorite interview behind Courtney from The Dandy Warhols and Derek from Sleigh Bells. Todd even thanked me for interviewing him at the end, which not many others have done.

Lisa Mrock: So far this year things have been a little quiet on your end lately. Doom Abuse came out last year, you toured on that, and the last tour ended somewhere around December, right?

Todd Fink: I’m not good with time, but that sounds probable. So you mean, what’s happening?

Lisa Mrock: Yeah, that’s a lot of down time you guys have had. Have you guys been resting during that time?

Todd Fink: I don’t think it’s that much down time. Well, we were hoping actually to do more touring and we got stalled out by a few things. One of them is that our label went out of business right after the record came out. It’s not really their fault. We went with this label called SQE because we had a manager-friend, a guy that used to be kind of our manager-assistant, who used to be in charge of the SQE label for North America -- or I guess it’s a Canadian label, so I guess for just the States -- but they opened up this branch of it, we put out our record, and then they closed their doors. They were cool about it. They gave us our record back, and we’re just trying to figure out what we’re gonna do with it now. So we can end up booking another tour right after that. Now we’re just spending time in the studio writing new music.

LM: But man, that sucks.

TF: Yeah. It doesn’t always work. Things sometimes, they fall in line and sometimes their just...?

LM: Are you guys looking to release something on your own then, or are you looking for another label, going back to Saddle Creek?

TF: We’ll probably talk to Saddle Creek first. Actually I’ve been meaning to do that. We haven’t talked yet, but when we were deciding to go with SQE in the first place, it was between Saddle Creek and SQE. Both of them were our friends, one of them was trying to start a new thing, and we ended up going with them, not for any great reason or huge advantage, but we told Saddle Creek at that point that we wanted to do an EP or single or something after the Doom Abuse record came out, so they’re sort of expecting to us to talk to them about putting out music... And sometimes we put our own little... I mean we did one album ourselves, then we put out some no-label 12-inches. We can do that again if we’re just gonna put out songs one at a time, but it’d be nice to have a label to help with distribution and that kind of stuff.

LM: I’m sure having a label makes a lot of that stuff easier.

TF: We put out Fasciinatiion ourselves, and it was just a time-suck. Too much worrying about things that aren’t making the music or performing it or getting it ready for the tour. Not enough making music.

LM: You said you guys are in the studio writing again?

TF: Yes, we’re working on new music. I don’t know if they’re gonna be a whole album or if we’re gonna put things out after we finish them.

LM: And you also want to tour some more?

TF: Yeah.

LM: Because you have a couple shows coming up in June – Summerfest and your show in Chicago – so are you hoping to put more shows in June? Or maybe after that, like the festival circuit?

TF: No, those ones are the only ones for that trip right now because we’re trying to make new music and we want to get some more... an EP or a couple singles or whatever, we wanna get some more new stuff out before we do any more touring since we let some time lapse since Doom Abuse. And we’re interested in... I mean Doom Abuse was a record where, at least in my mind, it was more of a rock record, and it was like that thematically not because that’s the only kind of thing we were writing, but because we wanted to put all those types of songs on one record, and afterwards come out with something different. So that’s what we’re working on, something different.

LM: You guys use a lot of technology in your live sets, a lot of different programs, and I was wondering what the process is like of taking new songs and orchestrating the live show around them.

TF: Most of the time we’ve done the Faint, we’re making the songs and deciding on how they go, figuring everything out, but not necessarily being able to play them. We get them done, and then figure out how we’re gonna play them. We all contribute on all the different instruments, we’re all playing different parts and seeing what seems to work the best, put it all together, and then figure out who can do this and this, and who can do that and that. A lot of times we’ll make videos that sync to the music and then write the program, kind of more or less a DIY type of situation. On top of that, we’ll program some different scenes to accentuate what we’ve programmed for the lights on stage.

LM: You guys have been around as a band for 20 years, and technology from then to now has changed dramatically, which means I guess that your live shows have changed a lot as well. Were there certain ideas early on you guys wanted to do, but couldn’t, because the technology wasn’t there yet?

TF: Yeah, definitely. We used to keep a list of things to invent. I don’t know whatever happened to that list. It’s probably pretty funny now. We’re pretty early adopters of – I don’t mean early as a musical communication thing, which the early ‘80s... y’know – but when we were starting this band and figuring out what we could do with keyboards, it wasn’t a part of playing live we were familiar with at all. We were running into a lot of trouble with getting things to communicate and meeting certain kinds of mergers and splitters that eventually came around. Sometimes for the lighting we were having to write our own software or have a special version written for us to be able to do what we wanted to do, which is pretty basic stuff by today’s standards, but it wasn’t commercially available at the time.

LM: I guess a reverse of the last question would be if there are any ideas you guys have gotten from new technology that becomes available.

TF: Yeah. I think that technology, any new toy or instrument or whatever you wanna call it, holds a bunch of potential, a lot of potential. It’s like, what you can do with what this thing is supposed to do, and what can it do beyond what it’s supposed to do, and what if you connect two unlikely instruments together and force them to communicate in this way or that way. I think a lot of the spark of song ideas and music arrangements comes from these kinds of accidents.

LM: That’s crazy that you had to write some of your own software and write your own code just to do all that.

TF: Yeah, Clark [Baechle] my brother, he’s the drummer, is sort of a brainiac in that realm. More recently he’s been writing that kind of stuff for music to feed into graphics programs, algorithms, to do this or that kind of thing. In the old days we were just having people change this or that for us so we could do our show. Which was super cool of the people to say, “Oh I’ll change my program for you guys.”

#The Faint #Todd Fink #Doom Abuse #Summerfest #Bottom Lounge #technology #Saddle Creek

Interview: John Paul Pitts of Surfer Blood

This interview accidentally lasted a little too long for Innerview, so I had to cut out a few chunks before sending it to the editor. Part of the way through, I completely spazzed and asked the dreaded, “What does this album mean to you?” question, one I’ve avoided. There’s something about it I never liked, and I always saw it as amateurish to ask, but there I was asking it and wanting to belt myself in the face. Overall, this was one of my favorite interviews though. Pitts was friendly, honest, and frank about what’s been going on with his band, and if there’s one thing that an interview needs, it’s honesty.

Lisa Mrock: My first question has to do with the wonderful world of record labels. 1000 Palms is being released through Joyful Noise-

John Paul Pitts: Yep.

LM: -and not Warner Bros. What was the turning point that made you guys wanna go back to the independent side of the music industry?

JP: Well, you know, we were on Warner Bros. for the last record, and we pretty much signed a record deal six months after our first record came out for a variety of reasons. Being on Warner was awesome and we were in a really nice studio using awesome equipment, and it was frustrating when our record kept getting pushed back. So at the end of 2013 we kind of parted ways with Warner Bros. We were dropped, but we knew it was coming, and we were like, “Well let’s make this new record. Let’s not overthink it. Let’s just write ten songs, press record, and trust ourselves. We’ve been doing this for years and years now. Let’s just make the record we wanna make...” And then we started sending it around. They (Joyful Noise) emailed us right back right after they listened to it, and after getting to know everyone there, just being a really good place for us right now. They’re really into actually making the record, having cool packaging, having interesting ideas. It makes a lot more sense for us in the long run.

LM: So then you guys definitely feel a lot more comfortable at Joyful Noise than you did at Warner?

JP: Yeah, I think comfortable is a good word. I think it’s nice to be able to have met the head of the company, and he’s a pretty normal guy, and everyone else who works there is really sweet and supportive. I feel like we’re getting stuff done. Sometimes when you’re under a big company, everything feels bogged down, it feels like things take longer than they should. It just feels nice that every week they bring ideas to us that we can execute. It’s nice.

LM: Well, what did you guys learn from being under Warner Bros. that you applied to 1000 Palms, if there was anything learned, any lessons I guess?

JP: Yeah, well, we learned a few things. One, there’s nothing like the first time you record a song. It’s magical, and the track is just going to have more energy no matter what. I feel like doing songs, sending them around to major labels and our people is an exhausting process, so a big part of this record is not overthinking any part of it. Just sort of trusting ourselves to do something cool, something interesting. And secondly that self-producing and self-recording is something that we really like, it’s part of the whole thing that we do. We recorded our last record with a producer, which is something we’d never done before, and there’s something about recording just you and your bandmates, in your house, that’s really magical. It feels more free. It feels like the willingness to try stuff... there’s no self-censorship with this record, and I think that’s why it is so dynamic...

LM: Right, there’s no one breathing down your neck or anything like that.

JP: Well yeah, you’d come up with an idea that’s maybe kinda weird, but maybe kinda funny, maybe even good – like one of those ideas – and you don’t feel like, “Oh, maybe we should use this more conventional thing, maybe that’s the way we should go,” you know? You don’t end up watering down your own material. We recorded our first record by ourselves. This is something we have a lot of experience in...

Me: Okay, so then the recording process was, well, not easier, but maybe there was a lot less stress?

JP: Well, that depends because there was stress, it was just a different kind. While being dropped from Warner Bros. was in many ways a relief, it was also kind of scary because we’ve had the record label behind us for the last five years supporting us and helping us move forward, so it was kind of intimidating going, “Oh wow, we’re really on our own, and we have no idea what’s going to happen now.” There was that hanging over our heads, most of the time, and thank God by the time we were done, Joyful Noise came into the picture and they were awesome, and they knew exactly what we were going for, but there were no guarantees that anything like that was gonna happen. As far as the process being a headache with too many personalities involved, it was definitely not like that this time.

LM: How long did it take to record Palms?

JP: It took us six months. We recorded all over the place – the drums in Florida, the guitars there too, I recorded the vocals in my apartment in Los Angeles, and we sort of pieced it together and used what we could, where we could. The fact that it came out sounding so cohesive is awesome.

LM: I was actually wondering if it was recorded live or if you recorded everything separately, because I listened to the album and it does sound completely cohesive. It doesn’t sound cobbled together at all. It’s really good.

JP: Ah, thank you. Yeah, we had it mixed by someone who we really trust, a guy named Rob Schnapf in LA, who mixed our last record, and honestly in a lot of ways, stylistic problems in production that we would’ve been very uncomfortable with... I was there with him the entire time he was doing it and it was just one of those things where we’d already made the record together, we already knew each other’s sensibilities and it just went so fast... the whole process was just, it felt easy I guess.

LM: What does the album mean to you in terms of the themes?

JP: Moving forward with your life, getting older but embracing it, trying to see it in a positive light and trying to learn lessons along the way. I think the lyrics are definitely some of the more imaginative ones that we’ve had. There’s a lot of variety and the melodies are good too, I hope.

LM: A couple songs that stick out for me, “Feast/Famine” there’s some talk about feeling out of touch and spreading yourself too thin, and then with “Sabertooth” and “Catacombs” there are lyrics about how another person can see the good in you and bring you peace and calm, and those are just some things I noticed.

JP: I have a girlfriend I’ve been dating for three years now, and that’s a big part of the reason why I moved to LA. There was stress when we were making the record about what would happen, would anyone ever get to hear it, what would happen once I was done with it, and I think having her in my life, having that sense of calm and sense of stability helped me deal with that and not freak the fuck out.

#Surfer Blood #John Paul Pitts #1000 Palms #Joyful Noise Records #girlfriends

Interview: Yukimi Nagano of Little Dragon

I wrote this for Chicago Innerview, but the editor axed it, most likely because it was too short for print. It was an email interview, and with those it can be difficult to know if you’re asking too many or too few questions, depending on how long the answers are. Either way, I liked the questions I came up with, and enjoyed the interview overall.

Lisa Mrock: I read in a past interview that Nabuma Rubberband was your first album with a proper release in the U.S. Now that it’s been almost a year since its release, have you noticed any difference in its reception in the U.S.?

Yukimi Nagano: We have always had a good support from the US but, definitely there was a spread of awareness after Nabuma. It’s kind of cool that even though we have been around as a band people are still discovering us.

Lisa Mrock: Rubberband was also your first album released with a major label. What was that like?

Yukimi Nagano: We don't really see Loma Vista as a major. They have the power to push artists, but are very personally involved and feel more like an independent label.

LM: Since festival season is just around the corner, what are certain aspects of it you look forward to every year? Do you use the festival season as a chance to discover new sounds and possibly new collaborators?

YN: Definitely to watch bands and artists and see what's out there. We love festival season for that reason. It’s the perfect time to discover new music and get inspired.

LM: How did the collaboration with Dave from De La Soul happen?

YN: We have been friends since the Gorillaz tour in 2010 and he is a great lyricist and has been a fan of us, he lends a good ear when we want feedback. We are really fortunate to have artist we respect like Dave around.

LM: You’ve also collaborated with the Gorillaz, and there was almost a collaboration at one point with Big Boi. What about hip hop intrigues you? What do you think it is about your music that makes some hip hop artists reach out to you?

YN: We love hip hop. It’s been a big inspiration. I guess maybe people hear that influence somewhere in our music, and that’s what draws rappers or hip hop heads to our sound.

LM: Having grown as a band in the Swedish music scene, how does the scene differ city to city? How do you think it all affected you?

YN: We have always been in Gothenburg, so I’m not sure what sound we would have had if we were based in another city. But I'm sure the mood, climate, and vibe of our city has affected our sound even if we are not really sure exactly in what way.

#little dragon #nabuma rubberband #yukimi nagano #interview

A few more thoughts on Working versus The Warmth of Other Suns

Got into the Reader and splattered my opinions all over it.

#chicago reader #chicago #studs terkel #isabel wilkerson #working #the warmth of other suns

Update: New interview on the way.

I’m excited about this one, so be excited with me.

#It has to do with dragons and hip hop

“You’re a writer?”

“Yeah,” I said.

My coworker looked confused. “Then what are you doing here?”

It brought up a question. Do I want to write enough to the point of quitting my day job? Or will I be happy getting published once in a while by Weird Writers Online Lit Mag with a thousand followers on Twitter and nine hundred Facebook likes? It’s something every burgeoning writer needs to think about at some point. I’m not an idiot -- I know the odds of me being a famous international writer are zero to negative eleven unless I sell my soul and write a dystopian YA novel about some girl named Wiltinamura who’s been chosen to bring down the Evil Empire ruled by a vampire family who employs zombies or some shit. I had to think of what kind of writer I wanted to be.

Novel writer is currently out. Maybe someday, I write the next Grapes of Wrath, but my attention span is best compared to the size of a teaspoon.

Short story/personal essay writer seems to work best for me right now. I work two jobs, go out with my friends to mostly awful places that have names like “The Whistler” and “Boiler Room,” and don’t have a lot of time for exposition. I like getting my point across as fast as possible, as soon as possible.

Journalism is something I’m still entertaining. I pretend to be a music writer a couple times a month, and know that if somebody *slams fist on the table* just believed in me, I could be halfway decent at it. I’ve interviewed awesome bands and artists, and enjoy bragging about it to people who don’t know how mundane it is throwing emails at PR, who might or might not respond to your subtly desperate plea of, “LET ME INTERVIEW BUTTSWEAT FROM THE BAND FUCKSTICK.”

Comedy writing is also something I’m thinking about. I live in the birthplace of Second City, and I like writing things that make people laugh for uncomfortable reasons like abortion and murder and blind racecar drivers. Plus, they have weekend classes. I’d just have to quit my weekend job and boom, I’ll be a comedy genius in ten weeks. Obviously.

There are loads of other kinds of writing, but those are the ones most feasible for me. So for now, I’m fine with peddling away into literary obscurity. At least it’s given me something to write about.

#writing #desperate #i don't know what i'm doing #chicago #second city #help me