interview from CF16: jennifer o’connor

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jennifer o’connor is a smoky-voiced new york songwriter, bartender, ebay enthusiast and all-around pop girl extraordinaire. we caught up with ms. jen at the magician on the lower east side in the early days of summer. (this interview originally ran in chickfactor 16 and took place in 2004 in manhattan). interview by gail

chickfactor: when did you write your first song and what was it called and what was it about?

jennifer o’connor: it was in 1996 and it was called “circus” and it was for a band I had just joined—well, it wasn’t even a band yet. I didn’t really play music yet. this guy told me I should be in this band. I went to an open mike with him one night and played bass, then the next day I wrote a song. it was sort of about playing music. it was in atlanta, right after college.

cf: did you want to be a singer when you were little?

jennifer: not realistically. I wanted to be a basketball player. music was always my favorite thing but I didn’t really think of it as something I would ever really do. I played basketball from age 9 to 20.

cf: what was your first concert?

jennifer: van halen in 1987.

cf: they were so past their prime!

jennifer: I know. it was right when hagar joined the band. my first small club show was the replacements in 1991.

cf: first record you bought?

jennifer: probably “physical” by olivia newton-john. I used to buy top 40 singles every week. I used to have a notebook and write it down, the top 40.

cf: me too!

jennifer: you did that? I listened to it on my walkman and I would figure out which ones I wanted to go buy.

cf: you grew up in the south?

jennifer: I grew up in a small town in connecticut until I was 13, a really small town. we moved to florida before I started high school.

cf: when did you play your first show?

jennifer: after I moved here. it was at acme underground. I sent out a bunch of tapes after I moved here. that was in ’99. I tried to get shows at better places after that.

cf: what’s the best venue in nyc?

jennifer: I like, I play at the knitting factory a lot, it’s not my favorite, but I worked there. I like southpaw.

cf: has anything really embarrassing happened onstage?

jennifer: the last show I played was pretty embarrassing. a few weeks ago I played a show and there was no soundcheck as usual and it was the guy’s first night doing sound. I started playing and there was no guitar and somebody went to help him. they turned the guitar on and it fed back really loud. I picked the quietest prettiest song first. I spilled beer and thought I was going to electrocute myself. the snare was moving on the drum kit behind me. just a series of bad things.

cf: what did you do at the knitting factory?

jennifer: marketing and promotion. I wrote to writers such as yourself trying to get them to come to shows or preview shows. flyering and stuff.

cf: when’s the new album out?

jennifer: I don’t know. the beginning of ’05?

cf: do you record at home?

jennifer: a little bit. ultimately I would like to have the ability to do it all at home. I would like to have someone do the levels.

cf: are you bartending these days?

jennifer: no. I was. I really liked it but I was drinking a lot. I quit cause there was a gas leak in the bar and they weren’t fixing it and it made me really nervous.

cf: no one smokes anymore, it’s not that dangerous. do people smoke after hours?

jennifer: and even before.

cf: people are breaking the law?!

jennifer: they are, they do. a lot of places in new york start smoking around 2. but I haven’t had a cigarette in 18 days. but I want one right now.

cf: what’s the best bar in brooklyn?

jennifer: I like o’connors which is right down the street from me. I don’t go to bars that much.

cf: why would you want to play solo anyway? isn’t it scary?

jennifer: it is scary. I do it because…when I first started playing I was in a band and I don’t know. I like playing in a band but I also like having more control. I don’t like to rehearse so having a band…and I like playing with different people. I can’t commit to it. I like being able to do it when I want to do it. maybe eventually I’ll have a band but I like having it mine. plus when I was in a band I had some situations with other members, it’s hard to play with other people. I wasn’t treated very well in some instances and I guess I hold a grudge.

cf: you played at the new york party for the saddest music in the world, the fabulous guy maddin film. who won?

jennifer: did anybody win? I think I won. I was the saddest. no, it wasn’t a competition.

cf: there was a similar party in london, and they had a lot of crappy bands who weren’t nearly sad enough for me and I thought competing to see who was the saddest.

jennifer: we did have to give away tickets for the movie but that was the only contest of the night. kendall’s set was pretty sad too.

cf: what song do you wish you’d written?

jennifer: there’s a lot probably. “your song” by elton john. although I always think it’s weird that he didn’t write his own lyrics.

cf: even weirder that courtney love hired bernie taupin to write some lyrics for her.

jennifer: yeah! so weird. she’s just, sad.

cf: were you a fan?

jennifer: huge fan. huge hole fan. huge nirvana fan. I was in my freshman year of college when the whole nirvana thing broke. I saw hole in ’94. she was a mess then. she was talking to the ceiling and talking to him. I wish I’d written a lot of elliott smith songs. dylan songs. mark eitzel songs. I hung out with him one night on the lower east side, me and him drinking for hours, it was fun.

cf: what are your songs about?

jennifer: death. endurance. continuing. I used to write more about love and stuff but I don’t do that much anymore.

cf: what about driving?

jennifer: there’s a lot of driving and moving in my songs. I write a lot or come up with things when I’m driving. I like new york better with a car actually. I don’t feel trapped as much.

cf: are you still doing the ebay thing?

jennifer: I do that and I do a little promoting for bars.

cf: do you buy or sell stuff on ebay?

jennifer: I sell stuff. I can’t afford to buy anything! mostly I look to see what sells. I do mostly music stuff but I like it because I have a revolving record collection. and this time of year I go to a lot of stoop sales in brooklyn and find stuff. it’s like having a record store without having to buy anything.

cf: what made you the most money?

jennifer: I sold a couple of loren mazzacane connors records for $200 or $300 to jim o’rourke! it was pretty exciting. and I did a good deed because they’re using them to remaster and make the records.

cf: you couldn’t just give them to him?

jennifer: I didn’t know he needed them! he has the money! two records I sold allowed me to pay my rent and continue working on my music.

cf: you’re the middle man.

jennifer: I’m a recyclist.

cf: I hear you signed to red panda records.

jennifer: it’s a big up and coming indie label.

cf: why did you choose to go with them after that huge bidding war?

jennifer: I love the idea behind it and the people running it and I trust them.

cf: what’s in your fridge?

jennifer: romaine lettuce. tomato paste. seltzer water. milk. that’s it.

cf: what were you doing touring france? are you big in france?

jennifer: I used to know a lady in new york who’s french and moved back and she was helping put on a festival in lille and they wanted to do a night or a series of nights of new york artists and they liked my record so they flew me out there and paid me.

cf: didn’t you play a ladyfest once?

jennifer: I didn’t make it. I was supposed to play ladyfest richmond.

cf: didn’t you play one in new york?

jennifer: I was on a compilation but I didn’t actually play.

cf: what’s the pop scene like in nyc?

jennifer: I don’t know. there’s so much here but most of it is williamsburg type stuff. I haven’t found much of a community but I think red panda might change that.

cf: who’s your favorite new york band?

jennifer: I don’t know. I suddenly like the yeah yeah yeahs—they were on mtv awards the other night and it was so gorgeous.

cf: aren’t they from new jersey? have you ever dreamt about a song and remembered it?

jennifer: I do but I don’t remember it to write it.

cf: have you had a dream with rock stars in them?

jennifer: I’ve had dreams with courtney love and nirvana…oh, you mean a hot sex dream?

cf: have you had a hot sex dream with someone you really don’t like?

jennifer: oh yeah.

cf: what melody is stuck in your head?

jennifer: that britney song “toxic.”

cf: do you like any mainstream bitches?

jennifer: not really. I listen to a lot of mainstream hip-hop. I like the franz ferdinand single. I didn’t buy it but I listened to courtney love’s album at the jukebox where I worked. didn’t really stick for me. I probably should buy it—the last album was like that for me at first too.

cf: if you buy it maybe it’ll keep her out of prison.

jennifer: it’s so sad, it really is. did you read that interview in something online? I couldn’t believe how sad it was. she’s broke.

cf: not another behind the music story.

jennifer: that’s what it was like.

cf: kurt must sell a lot of records. sounds like she hasn’t done a very good job of managing her money.

jennifer: no, she hasn’t. that’s exactly what the article is about.

cf: it’s kind of embarrassing to be a celebrity and to talk about that stuff in public.

jennifer: I guess that’s part of the job.

cf: she doesn’t hold back.

jennifer: she doesn’t hold anything back.

cf: if courtney asked you to be in her band, would you do it?

jennifer: you know it’s funny that you should ask that. did you know they took out a full page ad in the village voice last year for a bassist. and I thought about it for a whole day. the ad said they wanted somebody who looked a certain way.

cf: a goth metal chick like auf der maur?

jennifer: I was like that’s not me.

cf: they could do your hair and makeup.

jennifer: they wanted someone who behaved like flea but didn’t play like flea or something.

cf: why do you think they wanted a girl?

jennifer: um, I think that’s pretty cool. that’s something I waffled about if I put a band together. I prefer to play with women if they’re good. it’s easier. my first band was with two guys and that’s part of the reason I don’t want to have a band anymore. some bad shit happened and I think it was in some ways because I was a girl just learning how to play. I’m not saying all guys are like that because they’re not.

cf: do you like to sing karaoke?

jennifer: not really. I’m kinda shy about it. I like watching people.

cf: what’s your sign?

jennifer: scorpio.

cf: ever been to a psychic?

jennifer: yeah.

cf: what did they tell you?

jennifer: stupid shit. when I lived in florida a while ago, I wanted to find out if I should move back to new york. said I was going to be very famous and rich. of course I’m still waiting for that. have you been to a psychic?

cf: hasn’t everyone? are you going to check out the spongebob movie?

jennifer: I want to.

cf: who’s your idol?

jennifer: sleater-kinney. as a group.

cf: all three of them?

jennifer: yeah, they’re great.

cf: better than hole?

jennifer: they’re better than hole.

cf: they’re definitely better than hole. who’s your favorite writer?

jennifer: I like michael chabon a lot. I read the mysteries of pittsburgh in high school. I read a lot of music stuff. I just read the bob dylan bio.

cf: you have any phobias?

jennifer: I don’t like to fly. I don’t like heights. I don’t like the subway. I have a lot of anxiety issues in general but I’m working on them. I don’t like elevators either. I don’t like to feel like I’m out of control even though I’m really not anyway.

cf: who do you have a crush on?

jennifer: I have a crush on the brenda character on six feet under. I also have a crush on the amy character on judging amy. she’s sexy. david berman. I love him.

kendall: maybe gail can introduce you.

cf: talented man.

jennifer: is he a jerk? I used to have a big crush on carrie brownstein but I think I’m over it. don’t print that.

cf: right, we won’t. off the record. you’re the first one to have a crush on her.

jennifer: I’m more interested in corin at the moment. I really like the song she wrote about her kid. they’re good rock stars.

cf: who would you want to collaborate with?

jennifer: the guy from neutral milk hotel. kevin shields. dizzee rascal.

cf: what are your top 5 records?

jennifer: the self-titled elliott smith record; bringing it all back home; what would the community think; blue; american water; plastic ono band.

photograph by amy bezunartea. jennifer runs a label called kiam records and her latest LP is called I want what you want.

 

trish keenan from broadcast: the chickfactor interview (2001)

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trish keenan from broadcast

today (28 september 1968) is the birthday of the leading lady of broadcast, trish keenan, who passed away in 2011. when I went to her birmingham flat on a warm spring day in may 2001, I found a warm, lovely and smart person who was far friendlier than her onstage persona might have suggested. she was charming and candid and I feel lucky to have met her. we are sharing this interview from our 14th print issue (we have a few copies left btw). 

interview by gail o’hara

chickfactor: what was your best experience at this year’s all tomorrow’s parties? any revelations? were you there for the whole thing?

trish: no, we missed the first night. I didn’t actually, I didn’t like anything. I think because if you’re down front you can get the best sound in that room—it’s not a great room. I don’t think it’s a great place to hold gigs at all [pontin’s in camber sands]. the biggest revelation for me and it’s nothing to do with music, is that there was damp in the chalets. the bands get the best of the chalets, but when I went down to a friend’s chalet who paid 100 pounds for a ticket, it was damp and it smelled. and I thought to myself, god, poor british families save up all year round for this holiday? it’s the granny and the kids and it’s supposed to encompass something for everybody and it’s just a damp chalet. there were lots of americans there, and I thought, what must they all be thinking? steve from tommy boy was with us and you know that entrance with the big blue sign, and I heard him in the back of the van going, “fucking hell.” I was like, “yeah, you’re right, it is fucking hell.” I didn’t see many bands; I had a good time. the bands I did see, I was right at the back and it was terrible sound so I didn’t get to see the best of television. couldn’t see all of yo la tengo’s set because we were on before them and we were packing up.

cf: if you curated one of those, who would you invite to play?

trish: they’re all dead. I’ve love for joe meek to play. I’d do a joe meek night, so you’ve got glenda collins and the tornados and what have you. a phil spector night. they should do a producers weekend—that’s what I’d like. three, four nights of just one thing. then maybe a little talk afterwards about how we recorded…

cf: any living producers you’d want to be there? I guess phil spector still works…

trish: good question, I don’t really… in the 50s and 60s when producers were the new phenomenon, they had one sound and they weren’t worried about what the bands wanted and how they wanted to sound, which is what the producers nowadays seem to be more concerned with—they want the band to be happy, which is good. back then, you came as a musician or vocalist to fit in with the producer’s sound. that’s what made it so interesting, that’s what made it one thing, like the spector group, and it had so many connections—the brill building singer-songwriters, and all these fantastic singers could come in and sing their songs. it was almost like this network—it was just like the beatles were. it was like an institute of songwriters and no. 1s and top 20 hits…

cf: surely britney spears is following in that tradition….

trish: see, I like the song but I don’t like the artist. “I did it again” was a phenomenal, amazing song and brilliant vocal performance but she’s crap. she’s crap. I can’t have that.

cf: it’s just a sequel of the formula.

trish: it’s like “oops, I did it again, I wrote the last song again and got a no. 1.” the idea of producers now, I think the bands have got far too much power in the recording studio now. a producer’s job is to somehow throw a net over the five band members’ ideas somehow bring them together. whereas I prefer the producer to go “shut the fuck up and play this.” then you’ve got one mind pushing the whole thing forward. there’s nothing worse than having five babbling voices all wanting to be the greatest thing.

cf: is that how broadcast is?

trish: well, you know, every band can get like that. even if you’re putting a magazine together and everyone has their own ambitions for what they want out of it and you have to be able to compromise. with the producers of the 60s there was no compromise. it was one thing and you joined it, you fitted in with it.

cf: what is the most ridiculous assessment of broadcast that you’ve read?

trish: “futuristic von trapp family.” sometimes writers come up with these things, and it was maybe before the broadcast gig even happened.

cf: what is the best fan gift you’ve gotten?

trish: I have a crocheted brooch. I don’t get things thrown up onstage very often, that’s why I remember the brooch.

cf: what do your fans look like?

trish: it’s quite a mixture actually. ha ha ha. I suppose the one type I’ve come across more than any other is this short, small gay computer or website type guy. I don’t know why. I wouldn’t say they’re nerds. when I meet these people, I say “I know he’s gay and I bet he works in computers,” and it will come out and I think “how bizarre.”

cf: you’re a total heartthrob with straight boys.

trish: I don’t think so. I’m not getting hassled by anybody. boys aren’t like that. girls have got that kind of… especially from 17 to early 20s, if you’re into pop music and chart music, it seems like the girl fans will throw their all at you and they don’t care, they’ve got the confidence. they don’t care if they’re pushed back. boys are different. a girl fronting a band, you don’t get it so much. you just wouldn’t get a group of boys screaming at a girl—it’s just not in their nature.

cf: were you a fangirl at 17?

trish: I was probably just getting into the smiths. coming out of bowie and all the glam 70s things. I was a big bowie fan from about 13 to 16. it’s the age I was growing up. when I started school it was 1980. it was all new romantic stuff as well. I remember throwing myself at morrissey one time; I got up onstage and tried…I don’t know what I tried to do.

cf: he’s very magnetic.

trish: he’s fantastic.

cf: where is broadcast most famous?

trish: san francisco. that’s where we’ve sold the most records. followed very closely by new york.

cf: who would you want to play you in the trish keenan story?

trish: that’s a wicked question! I’m trying to think of someone who looks really irish and pale. um, I can’t think of anyone.

cf: what’s your favorite soundtrack?

trish: I quite like ravi shankar’s soundtrack stuff. I like chappaqua and charly, I’ve been playing those albums for six or seven months. I love krzysztof komeda, especially the knife in the water soundtrack. morricone goes without saying I suppose. I really like the badlands soundtrack actually, the music used in that. but I wouldn’t say I’ve got one guy. james is really into ennio morricone and that would be his answer.

cf: has broadcast been used in films?

trish: we get used occasionally in channel 4 adverts but we’ve been asked to do something but we’re awaiting the arrival of some tapes. if it’s crap, you can send it back.

cf: is there a director you would say yes straightaway to?

trish: no. there’s plenty of good directors out there. I don’t feel that we—not to try and dis the band but the greatest soundtracks have come from composers that are really steeped in the history of music, they can play classical pieces off by heart, they can sight read. all the brill building songwriters were classically trained, and it really puts you on good footing if you’ve got that behind you. if you’re postmodern and you knew punk happened, you don’t need to have that knowledge to put some good sounds together. that’s all right if you’re making an album, but if you’re making a soundtrack all of a sudden you have to represent that scene or those moods and that’s where training would come in handy. for us it would have to be a really good film—we’ll probably end up doing a shit soundtrack for a shit film at some point. right now it would really have to blow us away for us to take it on.

cf: you could always learn to read music. elvis costello learned it when he was 35.

trish: did he? I can read a little bit and I do have a go every now and again. I know I could do it, but it’s just like taking that time out. then you worry about how it will rub off on the writing technique you’ve managed to accumulate up until this point. all of a sudden I’ll start sounding like james galway.

cf: what was your first band called?

trish: pan am flightbag. this was ’90 or ’91, with two members of broadcast. we did two gigs then split off. for a moment there, we were the best local band there was.

cf: were you musical as a child?

trish: I don’t think I stood out, particularly. I didn’t really apply myself in any way and I wasn’t pushed into it from my parents, though they were really into music.

cf: what kind?

trish: I grew up with bob dylan, neil diamond. we had a pontin’s holiday in the ’70s and there was a talent competition and my mom and dad said “you’ve got to get something ready for the talent competition.”

cf: what a riot.

trish: they were there, “go on, get up onstage.” my mom used to do a bit of singing in clubs when she was younger. she didn’t really take it seriously. for the talent competition my dad said, “why don’t you learn ‘love is in the air’ on your recorder?” he taught me all the notes and I wrote them all down. we had our auditions and my mom didn’t get into the final thing. I got in with my recorder. she must have been terrible. a strange thing happened, we were in the chalet. I must have been getting worried about going onstage to play my recorder, my mom said, “come on, it’s 7:30, they want us all backstage and getting ready.” I wouldn’t go. like a 7-year-old kid, I was like, “nooo, moooom.” I must have been nervous though I didn’t feel nervous. my eyes were all red from crying cause I didn’t want to go but I got up and did it. that was it. that was my pontin’s holiday. it’s funny, the second time I would go to pontin’s it would be for music as well…

cf: do you like brazilian music?

trish: I like os mutantes, jorge ben, gal costa…

cf: caetano veloso?

trish: yeah, yeah.

cf: he wrote all the best mutantes songs. what french pop do you like?

trish: dutronc. françoise hardy will always get put on. brigitte fontaine. even a bit of charles aznavour.

cf: what causes a ruckus when it gets put on in the tour bus?

trish: joan baez. I like her, rog likes her, james hates her, and I don’t think tim likes her. for james, I think me liking joan baez represents something that he really hates. that whimsical folk thing, I’ve definitely got that in my taste and in my writing.

cf: you grew up with dylan!

trish: when I saw her sing that song in don’t look back, I had to go and find out what her best albums were. I like that record with all the poems on it.

cf: what melody or lyric do you have stuck in your head?

trish: I’m reading the art of bob dylan at the moment. I do have sections that come into my mind. I have lines going through my head all the time. for me, I’ll like one section of the song; I’ll hate the verse and the chorus but I’ll love the bridge.

cf: weirdest gig?

trish: I think it was in arizona. it was just in somebody’s living room. it was just weird because we were really tired, and we were just looking for a chance to go, “no, we’re not doing it.” and this was our opportunity. there was no PA, there wasn’t even a kettle. we did the gig in the end. I hadn’t seen one person on the street all day. there was a church 100 yards away with barbed wire all around it. we were like, “we’ve gotta get out of this place, it’s horrible.” and all of a sudden like 90 people come out of nowhere and cram into this little room and there was a gig on. you’ll drive to a gig for 40 or 60 miles away, that’s nothing to you. that’s half the length of this country—I couldn’t possibly go that far for a gig. if it’s not a bike ride, most of the time I won’t go. terribly british and lazy.

cf: if someone came to birmingham for the day, what would you show them?

trish: I’d go and see the canals. I think they’re the best thing we’ve got. we’ve got more canal miles than venice. birmingham was the heart of the industrial revolution, and if it wasn’t for the little waterways that were already built, we would have never been anything. you’d never have had black sabbath if it wasn’t for those canals, that’s my theory.

cf: are you from birmingham?

trish: yes, I was born here.

cf: who is the most underappreciated artist in this country?

trish: autechre. I think they’re fantastic. there’s no compromise with what they do. they’re not massive either; they’ll pull a decent crowd, like at camber sands they pulled a good crowd. the autechre fans are always boys that can’t walk properly, they’ll push your pint into you. rude, horrible boys go to autechre gigs. I always get a laugh out of it. if they wanted to do a commercial track, it would be no. 1.

cf: what’s in your fridge?

trish: two very dark brown bananas—I like them that color. easy-peel satsumas, half a tin of baked beans, some salmon, a bag of carrots, there’s usually much more than this. red cabbage, orange juice, mixed salad.

cf: most people just have beer.

trish: I don’t drink. I smoke blow though I don’t keep that in the fridge. I’m not really into alcohol. don’t like it. not a very good buzz. it’s a bit overrated. if they’d legalize some other drugs, alcohol would go right down the pan. that’s why they don’t want to legalize cannabis, especially here because there’s so much tax on alcohol and cigarettes, offer somebody another escape and those two industries will go down the pan.

cf: if your house was on fire, what would you grab on the way out?

trish: I don’t think I’d grab anything. I’d just get the hell out. I’d take my APC shirt and my vivienne westwood shirt, because they’re close to the window.

cf: who is the funniest person in the band?

trish: they’re all really funny. I couldn’t say one’s funnier than the other. roj I’d say he’s the quickest. his comic timing is genius. he really should be on telly. they’re funny but if you put them under pressure to be funny they won’t be. the three of them together (roj, james and tim) are hilarious. they make the tough parts easy. I’m an audience for them, they get a laugh out of me every time.

cf: are you addicted to anything?

trish: cigarettes, cannabis.

cf: do you collect anything?

trish: I mean, if you call records collecting. if you’re into music, that’s just part of what you do. I’m not really that mentality, and there aren’t many girls that are. it’s a boys’ thing, that collecting, and I think it’s innate. I’m not saying no girls can be collecting nerdy types like that, but it attracts the male mind to get into detail about that. you need both, you need the airhead and the one who knows everything. I’m the airhead. I can’t remember names, I’m terrible with band names and track names.

cf: with CDs, no one even looks at the track names. it’s like “I love track 5!” have you ever had something embarrassing happen onstage?

trish: I’ll tell you what I always do, and it really pisses me off. I always end up hitting my mouth on the microphone. I’m not very comfortable onstage. when I walk into a room I like to be unnoticed. I like to slip in. I’m not the kind of person who wants to rule the room with my conversation. I’m a quiet person.

cf: but you ended up the frontman.

trish: I don’t know why. it’s only cause I could sing. I don’t know whether I could sing or can sing…

cf: you can sing!

trish: because my mom and dad always sang, my mom has a karaoke machine, my dad’s irish and they love a good song, and singing is just something you do. you don’t have to be a performer, you can just sing at any point.

cf: what’s your next record like?

trish: it’s not written yet. what’ll usually happen is I’ll put a few songs together on my own, upstairs is where we recorded the last EP, and james will put production ideas together as far as sounds and if he’s got a chord structure that he’s put down, I’ll get it on minidisc and stick it on my four-track and I’ll try and do a vocal on it. hopefully we’ll have a combination of tracks that I’ve just written on my guitar, four-track tracks, and tracks that james put together that I can put a vocal on. then we’ll go to the studio and we’ll take it someplace further.

cf: do you look at music websites?

trish: I do. I don’t download music, I tend to print lyrics. I always go to olga, the online guitar site and get chords and lyrics. and maybe some creative writing websites that give you some exercises to do—just when I feel I need a kick, a boost. looking at a track on paper—I just looked at “you don’t own me”—that’s a real inspiration for me. the biggest inspiration to me is other people’s music and working it out. CF

photo on the cover of chickfactor 14 by gail o’hara

an interview with scrawl!

scrawl
scrawl!

it is an honor and a privilege to present a long-overdue interview with scrawl. gilmore tamny (the yips, wiglet fame) chatted with sue harshe in november and got the scoop on the trio’s recent reunion and other stuff.

chickfactor: how was ATP? highlights? lowlights?

sue: ATP NYC was a lot of fun. we played very well, we had a nice place to stay, we saw a lot of long-time dear friends. I can’t ask for much more than that. for me, there were two highlights: watching these two young men sing every single word of every single song we were playing. I sought them out after the show because I was so shocked and touched. the other highlight was watching marcy sing “my curse” with the afghan whigs. she looked so beautiful and tiny up there and when she began singing, the whole place erupted. I was bawling like a baby. I can’t really think of any low points. I wished there had been more people there but more for the bands who had to play on the indoor stage during the day. it was a little cavernous. ¶ I’m glad I got to see afterhours, an italian metal band with violin. truly amazing. and I was able to see about half of dirty three’s set, which I liked very much.

cf: I see you played with cobra verde at ace of cups—very exciting! you have more shows coming up? how are you pacing it?

sue: we just played with cobra verde and tim lee 3. we (I don’t think) had ever played with cv before, which is odd, considering they live in cleveland. tim lee 3 is from knoxville and we’ve known tim & his wife susan (who plays kick-ass bass in tim lee 3) for years and years. it is always so much fun to play in columbus and to play at marcy’s bar. the sound is always good, the vibe is great, and most bands (unless they’re prima donnas) leave there pretty happy. ¶ this has been an unusually active year for scrawl. we usually play once every couple of years. this year, we’ll have played 8 shows in 6 months. that’s a veritable world tour for us! being asked to play ATP NYC and also being asked to play ATP UK has been a dream, something we feel proud of because you can’t submit to play; you have to be invited. and the two bands who knew us best (afghan whigs and shellac) did the asking. that makes me happy. so, we leave for england after thanksgiving for a week and then play a new year’s eve show in cincinnati with the afghan whigs, and then it’s goodbye 2012.

cf: columbus has really changed in the last 20 years, including the music scene. could you talk about that at all? interesting happenings? things that are irritating? etc. I think too of ace of cups (which I’ve been enjoying seeing video of shows shirley posts from time to time) and how that’s opened, etc.

sue: marcy is better positioned to talk about the columbus music scene because she sees more of it, owning the bar. I think in some respects the last few years have been very healthy and robust (times new viking did well), but I’m just old enough now that I could slip into that very annoying back-in-the-day sentimentality, so I best keep my mouth shut. same with your question “most irritating” (faux folk revival). oops.

cf: I’ve been prowling around the internet—forgive me if I’ve missed an article etc.—but I’ve (long) wondered what has been your songwriting process with scrawl?  how has it changed?

sue: we don’t write much these days, though we have about three or four newer songs, but the process is very much the same: play a riff one thousand times in practice, add and take away, rewrite and rewrite, and then the lyrics are usually added as the last sprinkle on top. we’ve always put a lot of work into songwriting and so, for us, there’s no getting around the sometimes arduous process.

cf: how has playing live changed (presuming it has)?

sue: playing live feels very different for me now. I think it’s just a mindset, but it feels liberating in a completely different way, now that I’m pushing 50. a little more zen, a little less stroppy. regardless of why/what/how, it’s a total blast for me right now.

cf: any chance of a new scrawl record?

sue: we will never say never. I could play music with marcy until I’m 95 and be perfectly happy.

cf: who has been (some of) the most unlikely or unexpected scrawl fan(s)?

sue: hmm. for a while, we attracted very young men to our shows, who would come up to us afterward with tears streaming down their faces. that was always a little disconcerting.

cf: when / why / where you wrote your first song and what was it about?

sue: I can’t even remember. I think it was a hardcore song.

cf: do you come from musical families / upbringing?

sue: my family wanted to be musical but really wasn’t. the best thing my mom did musically was force me to keep taking piano lessons. she said that I would thank her one day. she was absolutely right. she also tap danced and played ukulele as a teenager. I think that’s pretty great.

cf: what are you reading these days?

sue: my husband found half-dozen old classics in the hallway of his office, waiting to be thrown out, so I vowed to read them all this winter. the first one I read was of human bondage by somerset maugham. fantastic! it is so over-the-top. next is tristam shandy by laurence sterne. after that it will be tom jones by henry fielding, and then david copperfield by dickens. If I’m not reading books rescued from the trash, I’ll read the scandinavian crime writers (mankell, larsson, nesbo, alvtegen).

cf: who do you have a crush on and you are welcome to take that in traditional sense or artistic sense or metaphysical sense etc. etc. etc.!

sue: my perennial 25-year crush is on the actor gary oldman. and, after seeing leonard cohen perform a year or so ago, I’ll include him too.

cf: any artists—bands, visual artists, writers, poets, dancers etc—you’re nuts for/intrigued by right now? pourquoi?

sue: there’s a woman from dresden germany called anna matur, who is very intriguing. she’s part performance artist and all musician. I very much like wussy’s record buckeye as well. It’s damn near perfect.

cf: sue, you have a new (fort shame) record coming out? how is that going? are you still scoring films as well?

sue: I haven’t scored any film music lately, but I was invited (along with 11 other composers) to write music for “finding time: columbus public art 2012,” in conjunction with columbus’ bicentennial celebrations this year. that was pretty exciting. and fort shame just released its first CD. it took forever to make but I’m very proud of it.

hear more from scrawl here. photo courtesy of scrawl.

from chickfactor #15: an interview with nikki mcclure

nikki is an inspiration—a renaissance woman, a jane of all trades. she took the time out of her busy schedule of art, gardening, cooking, making music, nature-watching, and everything else, to answer some questions.

interview by dawn, photo by gail (nikki with cynthia connolly at ladyfest 2000; interview originally appeared in cf#15, 2002)

cf: describe your art.
nikki mcclure: I primarily make papercuts. I cut images from paper using my trusty x-acto knife with a box of fresh sharp blades nearby. I then reproduce the pictures with offset or letterpresses for the masses. the original artwork is sculptural though. at first people think that they are woodblock prints, but when they get real close they see that the paper has been carved like lace. they are 3-d and 2-d at the same time.
cf: describe the process of making your cuts/prints.
nikki: I sketch out ideas working from tiny postage stamp/thumbnail sketches to larger and more definitive drawings. my sketches are usually pretty rough. I save the details for when I am working with the paper. I then draw a new sketch onto black paper with pencil and start cutting. I leave a lot up to chance; making mistakes and fixing them is an important part of my process. the choice of light or dark is of the moment.
cf: how did you get into paper cuts?
nikki: one day I was working with scratchboard and was not getting the look that I wanted and tae won yu was sitting nearby and said, “why don’t you try cutting it out of paper?” I did. it turned out the way I had imagined and it felt good to boot. it really satisfies me.
cf: what is the tradition of paper cuts?
nikki: it has been around since the invention of paper. there are early chinese papercuts that look like snowflakes progressing towards modern cuts that are giant sized and detailed. there is a history of papercutting in mexico, poland, germany, japan, and there is also a jewish tradition. we all have made snowflakes. there is a guild of american papercutters even.
cf: where do you get the inspirations for your books/art pieces?
from living adventures and from happiness. nature, gardens, people working together, swimming in anacortes, new york city, water, the walk home, the morning light, love, those moments where time doesn’t matter, watching birds fly.
cf: did you do a birding map? (I think I read this online) if so, who was it for and why? (can you also describe it?)
nikki: I think you are referring to a guidebook to the birds of east bay (olympia) that I illustrated. I have made maps with birds on them, but they are not necessarily birding maps.
cf: is birding a hobby that inspired your punk rock nature walks during yo-yo a go-go?
nikki: yes. but I am not a hardcore birder by any means, so it really isn’t a hobby. I did bring binoculars with me camping this week and I did get a guide to birds in japan at a garage sale last week…plants and insects are hobbies as well. it’s the whole of the forest and wanting to share some of its secrets that inspired the walks. plus, I wanted to get the punks out into nature.
cf: you taught a letterpress class at the oly ladyfest. do you teach this often? what do you like about the letterpress? do you use it in your work?
nikki: yes. I am eager to share the resources that are at community print with the community. I think it is magic to print and want others to be able to print whatever they want without censorship and by the power of their own hands. therefore, I share more than teach. letterpress is full of mistakes (for me) and I like that. I print text for different things, make posters, an occasional book, and I always wish I had more time to print. I also would love to get a vandercook letterpress. if there is anyone out there who knows where I can get one, please let me know!
cf: what other types of art do you do?
nikki: I print, make a monoprint every so often, draw, watercolor on vacations, and I want to learn how to build things from my woodworking husband.
cf: do you consider your house art? please describe it.
nikki: the garden is always art, even in the winter as the iris seedpods gray. right now it is full of red poppies ringing the baby apple trees; their seeds brought in from the compost. the garden is constantly growing, changing, and more and more lawn is being removed. inside it is looking more like an art gallery with rotating exhibits of friend’s artwork. right now there is work by jean smith, khaela maricich, tae won yu, kanako wynkoop, mal pina chan, katie baldwin, and amber bell. the last issue of nest [magazine] also made me throw out a chair and plan an improved entryway. the kitchen is waiting for cork flooring and the garage is in need of a vandercook to go with the windows salvaged from a cabin on mt. rainier. the house is a 1922 bungalow. wood everywhere and wide open floor plan. (I have yoga class at my house.) I have never been anywhere like it.
cf: what piece of art that you’ve made are you most proud of?
nikki: oh this one’s hard. pride. there are my favorites, of course, but pride is something different. I just made a picture for my 2003 calendar that I am proud of. it was hard. I challenged myself and all it is a man in a field with another figure approaching with a bucket of water. but it is the bucket and how the shadow falls on the water that is what I am proud of. I am proud of pieces, of line width and subtle curves, of hands held right, and water dripping into circles.
cf: when you make art, do you have a specific audience in mind? gail says your art appeals to toddlers. can you explain this?
nikki: my audience usually is me first. I make work to make myself feel good, for the most part. not every picture is a joy, some are work, or rather work, as I make pictures for a client with a picture already in their mind. my book about chickens appeals to the toddler set. they love it. it becomes their favorite book. black and white, find the chickens, what’s going to happen next? pretty suspenseful stuff to a 2-year-old. another audience is everyone’s mothers. and yet another audience are lovers, mine and yours.
cf: does your art support you? if so, in what way—commissioned jobs or selling our work?
nikki: I make art and the art supports me. I sell the original papercuts of all my books and calendars. I have art shows, collaborate on making lamps and furniture with jay t. scott (my husband). I also make the calendars and books as a way for more people to enjoy my art. rather than relying on sales of originals, I can sell the reprints affordably. I also do commissions, logos, illustrations, k2 snowboards for 2003, teach art at schools, trade art for veggies…
I try to do more art from the heart than from assignments. I find that the self-inspired art is the art that supports me the most—financially as well as spiritually. but it is good to do jobs for other people: it is nice to not always have to make up new, brilliant ideas; it is good to not work alone all the time and to develop sketches with a client; and work makes more work.
cf: do you have any non-art jobs?
nikki: at present, no. I have worked doing bird surveys, a year at dept. of ecology, substitute teaching, waitressing. but these are all becoming historical notations. I need to clean out my car, oh and do bookkeeping! that’s work.
cf: what is your involvement with buyolympia.com. tell me how it came about. is it successful?
nikki: buyolympia.com is pat castaldo and aaron tuller and artists/makers in olympia. pat is an old friend of mine. he is a master of computer graphics and I work with him on all my projects. so one day he tells me about his dream of selling olympia wares online. it sounded too good to be true, though I was a bit skeptical that people would find out about it. but buyolympia has done well. they advertise, link to the indie web, work all night mailing out everything during the holidays, call the artists to keep everything in stock, support and encourage new work, and people from sweden can not only buy a book and some olympia honey, but contact me to be in an art show.
cf: I hear your studio is a collective. who else belongs?
nikki: the studios are a community of working artists and members of a self-made economy. stella marrs operates her worldwide card empire; amber bell makes books and quilts and studies to be teacher; lucas gray cartoons; rebecca pearcy makes queen bee necessities (though she moves soon for portland); k records stays abreast of the underground music scene; khaela maricich paints and plans operas; phil elvrum orchestrates the microphones; people drop by to silk screen, sing, say hi, take tours, deliver the mail. then there is community print, add al and cypress and ariana to the mix and some salvaged presses and type and boxes of paper and you have a collective of printers. we took a show called 508 legion way to space 1026 in philadelphia this past march.
cf: where have you shown your artwork? will you have a show in nyc?
nikki: I have shown my work in olympia, seattle, portland, toronto, philly, sweden, tokyo, and kyoto. I would love to show in new york, but how and when require some work.
cf: why do you think that crafting is such a big trend right now? can we blame martha stewart?
nikki: sure, she can be part of the blame. but I think she should be blamed for encouraging classist consumerism instead. the trend to make crafts is due to the lack of using our hands to make work. sure we may type all day on these computers, but nothing real and tangible is being made by pressing all those keys. knitting, crossing sticks and pulling yarn into knots, row after row to make something warm is real work. folding paper and threading needle to sew up a book, make the hands work. crafting is handiwork. our neurons crave it.
cf: who are your favorite artists right now?
nikki: mecca normal
cf: who are your favorite musicians right now?
nikki: mecca normal
cf: do you still make music? perform?
nikki: yes, though pictures are my primary form of expression. I sang in tokyo in february and will perform at the what the heck fest in anacortes in july. I haven’t given it up, but I have less desire.
cf: what are some of your other hobbies? okay, more specifically, do you cook? if so, what and how? what’s your favorite dish to cook? hobbies?
nikki: camping, gardening, foraging, gleaning, and cooking, sure, but it seems too necessary for survival to be merely a hobby. I made cherry pies the other night for a camping trip. the tree at the abandoned house a few doors down called to me like a siren with her cascading red cherries. so jay t. and I got some ladders and filled up a bucket in 15 minutes. pitted with sugar and tapioca, crust made with ice cubes in water and cold butter cut into flour with two knives like my grandma taught me. wrap up the finished pies in parchment, pack them in a box with care, and then carry them in your backpack to a lake in old growth forest. eat them around a campfire and you are set.
cf: I hear you play soccer. on your own for fun, or in a league?
nikki: my mom signed me up for soccer in the 2nd grade and I cried, “but that’s a boys sport!” I have played ever since. my women’s team is called the sharks. I play sweeper/stopper (a defensive midfielder, defensive offense/offensive defense); I have been battling with injuries lately ever since I got kicked in the ankle playing co-ed. I dream about soccer all the time though.
cf: what’s the best thing about living in olympia? the worst?
nikki: the best is the abandoned blueberry farm where you crawl under the bushes or walk on top all crouching dragon style and fill your buckets with blue. the worst…I don’t want to tell. cf

nikki’s first major museum retrospective just opened at the museum of contemporary craft in portland, oregon.

chessie: the chickfactor interview.


ben and stephen chessie.

chickfactor turns 16 this summer and it’s hard not to think back to the old days of the d.c. indie scene where we found inspiration for the magazine. one of the ubiquitous creatures on the scene in those days was stephen gardner, a lanky kid who played in lorelei and later went on to form chessie, first on his own and later with ben bailes. despite being hailed by the new york times as having made one of 2001’s best albums, chessie remains far too unknown. you should go and get on a train with some chessie in your ears. (oh, and lorelei’s matt dingee recently moved back to the D.C. area so they’re on again at least until another member moves away.) we found ourselves digging the train-obsessed duo’s latest recordings and decided to catch up with them….
chickfactor: I think you were the youngest member of the d.c. indiepop scene way back when. what was it like then and how did you get involved?
stephen gardner: well, I started going to shows actively when I was 11 or so, and I owe that mainly to my older twin sisters. They were in the DC punk scene and I adopted their interests in that way that younger siblings do. Luckily, they — and my parents — were cool enough to let me tag along with them to shows and since I was tall for my age (6’2″ by 13), I passed as much older. The other factor that got me involved was that DC’s laws allow venues to be all-ages and there were tons of shows at churches or other public spaces, mostly put on by other kids. I didn’t realize how special this was until I spent a summer in San Francisco as a 20-year-old and realized I couldn’t go to venues. I was shocked. Also, I’d be remiss if didn’t give credit to Dischord records and for the punk scene of mid to late 80s in DC for making it seem totally possible to be in a band and do something that mattered on your own terms.
As for what it was like, I’m the youngest in my family, so I suppose it felt totally natural to be the youngest at shows or out with friends. Also, being tall helped me to never really feel totally out of place — by 12, I was taller than most adults. I also was surrounded by older people in other areas too, as I started working at skate shop when I was 12 and then a record store by 14, and i was always the youngest there, so I just learned to adapt.
cf: chessie was a one-man act for a long time. why change and become a duo? tell us about ben.
stephen: Ben Bailes and I are old friends from middle school/high school. He was one of the few drummers at our school and actually briefly played with lorelei during one of many line-ups in the first 6 months of being a band. We stayed in touch over the years as he got involved in audio engineering and he liked the first chessie record. I was working on the second album, Meet, while at college and he had just moved to NY to work as an engineer and we arranged for him to come up to engineer a session. We did a couple of songs together and had a blast. Our skill sets complemented each other really well and we had a deep trust from years of friendship. Next Ben and some other friends joined me for a tour as Chessie and after that, I think it was clear that we’d be doing this as a project together, with him expanding into the songwriting from just production initially. In the end, my goal with chessie was to always create a compositional process that would lead my ideas to new places and unexpected outcomes — it’s not a pop project, like lorelei, where I’m trying to execute a perfectly defined composition. If I’ve already conceived the outcome of a song in full, than there’s little point in proceeding. At first, I tried to reach this goal by using processes that took my ideas out of my own hands, like using unsynchronized tapes loops and other techniques that would introduce chance into the compositions. But, in Ben, I found the perfect partner to take my ideas and have them realized in profoundly different and exciting ways. Turns out another human is the best way to introduce chance into your songwriting.
cf: does being a train nerd have the same stigma in the US that it does in the UK?
stephen: I dont think so. I think most Americans don’t have a clue that there are millions of “railfans” out there and I doubt they’d care much if they did. Certainly, the culture is different as well, as the US has lots of rail photographers and history buffs, but very few of the UK’s trainspotters who record every passing passenger car and locomotive. US railfans are an oddity, but not particularly annoying, as they seem to be portrayed in the UK.
cf: was your musical path affected by the new york times endorsement?
stephen: Not the slightest. We been blessed with lots of critical acclaim and almost no record sales or personal attention. So, we just carry on as if none of that really exists, working in our basement studio as time permits.
cf: do you still have a turntable and if so what’s on it?
stephen: Yes. The Huck-a-Bucks “chronic breakdown” 2xLP — a classic mid-90s go-go record. Like all DC kids, I love the go-go and if you listen closely, you’ll hear a go-go break or two on at least one track on every chessie record.
cf: we hear you just got married — congrats! can you tell us a little about the bachelor party?
stephen: Ok, this is pretty nerdie. A group of friends and I rented an old railway caboose that is in use as a portable campsite on a railroad in West Virginia. They attach the caboose to the end of a train and drop the caboose deep in the woods next to a river on a side track where you can camp for a few days and then come pick you up. It was heaven.
cf: do you dream of trains?
stephen: Sometimes, yes. Mostly, I dream of everyday situations that are slightly altered. Since my day job is working with railways, they are often featured.
cf: what makes you sad about the way music has changed (formats, sounds, etc)? or is nostalgia for the baby boomers?
stephen: This list could be a long one but beyond the normal rant about the horrors of mp3s, the loss of vinyl, the end of hand-made flyers, I’m mostly just sad that music feels pretty irrelevant now amidst all of the other competing media. I know that the days when going over to a friend’s to listen to records was an entertaining and exciting way to spend a few hours are over for most of America.
listen to chessie here.

cf interview: travis elborough, vinyl fetishist and author

travis elborough is famous for a few things: dressing snappily, writing very funny and entertaining text and being able to talk about pretty much anything. his 2005 book, the bus we loved, about london’s routemaster buses (the kind you could jump out the back of), did phenomenally well. people still hate the bendy buses that replaced them, or the airless double deckers that you cannot exit in terrible traffic unless you have a sympathetic driver. his brand-new book, the long-player goodbye, pays tribute to our most treasured musical format. the book will be available for purchase in the united kingdom on july 10, while soft skull will publish it in the U.S. in 2009. bob stanley recently mentioned it in the london times in an article about vinyl fetishists. we caught up with our man travis via email. of course, if I were still living in london, I would be able to ask him these things in person…
chickfactor: what ebay find are you most proud of?
travis elborough: Too many to list but a phrenology head, an olive green olivetti typewriter and a signed photograph of Jo, one of the Doctor Who assistants from the 1970s, posing in the nude with a dalek would have to be up there somewhere.
what shopping experience do you miss the most?
As I am sure you remember, there used to be a fantastic, if admittedly rather overpriced, vintage clothing shop in Covent Garden in London called Cenci. It closed down probably five years ago now. It was chock full of old Italian deadstock suits from the 1950s and 1960s, and similarly period ski jumpers and golfing caps, none of which were ever in my size. Even the hats seemed to have been crafted for a special race of human beings, very possibly rendered extinct since by substantial changes in diet, whose heads were either vast or tiny. But while I bought very little from there (one of those striped yachting jumpers and a single suit, at the most, I think) I loved visiting it simply to witness its manager, Massimo, in action. He didn’t so much practise the hardsell, as look heartbroken if you chose not to purchase whatever garment he was convinced you should buy. ‘It’s a tad on the snug size’, you might say, while struggling to do up the buttons on a pea coat whose arms were a foot shorter than your own. ‘Nonsense, it fits you like a glove, feel the weave. You don’t get that kind of quality today’, he’d reply, shaking his head in a motion intended to convey a certain dispair with the modern world, and you in particular. ‘Well, I was really looking for a slightly narrow cut of trouser’, you could venture, having found yourself in a pair of strides that could easily have provided the sails for the Mayflower. ‘Honestly’, Massimo would respond, clutching, demonstratively, the leg of his own — and infinitely narrower — trousers, ‘once you get used to them, you’ll never wear anything else.’

describe a typical day of you researching this book.
I suppose, the most typical day consisted of hitting the British Library, and then idling away about seven hours flicking through ancient issues of Gramophone, Billboard, High Fidelity, Downbeat, Disc and the NME, and raiding their excellent sound archives. I spent some days, some weeks, actually, just listening to albums. And I did buy a small battery-operated turntable specifically to perch on the corner of the desk in my office so that I could spin discs while tapping away.
any tragic loss of an LP that’s still breaking your heart?
For purely sentimental reasons, I mourn the loss of, what was most likely a terrible, sound-not-alike Beach Boys LP, I had as a child. It was one of those session musician jobs that were sold in wire racks in Woolworths and local newsagents, something like The Surf Men Pay Tribute to the Beach Boys By Playing Their Hits Quite Badly. I think I bought it with a voucher I’d received for my sixth birthday. It had “California Girls,” “Good Vibrations,” etc. on it and, from what I can only dimly recall, an image of a suitably sun-drenched beach on the cover. The LP vanished years ago, and the original versions of the songs, which I didn’t know then, have long since supplanted any real memory of it but I seem to miss it all the same. And, as I have no idea what it was really called, ebay, Gemm and so on are no use. Which might be just as well.
will there be a turntable at the launch?
Oh yes. Two I think. And prizes for the most amazing, interesting and awful album anyone brings along.
your last book, the bus we loved, turned you into the “bus man” at parties. you got really sick of talking about those damn phased-out routemasters. any chance you’ll ever tire of LP chatter? are you already?
I am still talking about the Routemaster, it’s the Bela Lugosi of buses — blood red and undead! The LP book, came in a way, out of responses to The Bus We Loved. I did genuinely love the Routemaster. For anyone who doesn’t know, they were the last London buses to be built with open platform at the back and were staffed by a conductor as well as a driver and were taken off the streets after nearly fifty years in December 2005. I used to catch them every day, and when I first moved to London and was living in bus-bound Dalston, their routes really shaped my impressions of the city as a resident. I liked them enormously, aesthetically, and when I learned they were being phased out, I just started taking photographs of them with my Lomo camera and I gradually began to dig into their history. The book grew out of that. I wasn’t a bus fan as such, I was a writer who happened to be fond of this particular bus. While I was researching the book, I did, however, meet people who were absolutely fanatical about the Routemaster and buses in general. These people tend to get a raw deal, they are mocked as anoraks and the like. But I have to say, though some were a touch odd, I thought there was something rather admirable about their enthusiasm. Meeting them made me wonder, why it was that certain hobbies, bus-spotting for example, are deemed less socially acceptable than others, record collecting, say. Which in turn, led me to think about all the hours I’d personally wasted in record shops… and you can see where this is heading… Will I tire of talking about LPs? I hope not. But ask me again in six months…
are there any movie scenes featuring vinyl fetishists like the likes of our gang?
Well, I am excited about a new documentary by Emma Pettit about independent record shops. I think it’s still in production at the moment, but Emma’s also edited an accompanying book just out called Old Rare New, that has some great pieces by Byron Coley and Bob Stanley and interviews with Billy Childish, Rob Da Bank, Simon Reynolds and Joe Boyd, that’s magnificent so… buy that and look out for the film in due course.
is there any real evidence that it will come back?
There is some. Wandering about shops in central London, I do find myself thinking, God I can remember when all of this was CDs. Certainly shops like Mister CD have gone. And last October even Amazon.com began selling LPs and a range of players. So sales of vinyl are up, but they still represent a small percentage — and it tends to be a niche interest. Singles have taken off again among the hip and young, apparently. Hayes, the plant in Middlesex immortalised on the Beatles sleeves and mothballed by EMI in 2000, and now in private hands, currently turns out something like 20,000 records a week. A far cry from the 250,000 a day it produced in the early 1970s, but not bad for a format supposedly consigned to the dustbin by its digital successors over a quarter of a century ago.
click here to buy the book

photographs: travis elborough, london, 2005; and some vinyl in a paris shop window, 2004; both by gail o’hara.

the very long-overdue debsey wykes interview.



debsey wykes is one of the coolest pop girls on earth. when she was a mere teen, she formed the dolly mixture with her mates hester and rachel and they recorded some of the acest songs ever. later she formed birdie with her now-hubby paul kelly, who is a great photographer and makes films with the saint etienne gang. debs has also been singing with saint etienne since 1993; that is her voice you hear on “who do you think you are?“ along with the lovely sarah cracknell. we tried to interview debs back in nyc after a way-too-short birdie gig at fez, but it didn’t seem to work out. but when we got to see the dolly mixture documentary a couple summers ago, we were re-inspired. we caught up with the lady somewhat recently at the phoenix theatre bar in london…

chickfactor: I’ve wanted to interview you for a long tme. I don’t know if you remember this. we had a plan in new york once but it didn’t happen for some reason. after the dolly mixture documentary screening, I realized that it’s only a matter of time before the world discovers the dolly mixture.
debsey wykes: I wonder! it’s taking an awfully long time gail.
cf: when is the dvd coming out?
debs: it might come out at some point in the future. we haven’t been able to get in touch with the person who made it [the dolly mixture documentary]. he’s in hollywood I guess.
cf: would you like to see it come out?
debs: in a way because it makes me squirm a bit and makes me laugh but it’s also quite an unusual record of something that was going on. when you see things that were filmed over 20 years, well, it’s over 25 years ago, it’s amazing to see yourself and what you looked like because you sort of think you look the same and you don’t and also just the surroundings — what the other people looked like and all the cars! the clothes and the gig places and who was around, that’s sort of fascinating. there weren’t that many female bands.
cf: were there any that you were aware of at the time?
debs: we were aware of the slits and the modettes and the raincoats and there were other names whose music we’d never heard. we used to play a lot with a band called the gymslips and they became really good friends of ours. they were a three-piece. we just sort of gigged a lot together. of course there were the go-gos, who were terribly successful as far as we could see.
cf: they were a teenybopper band. they were kind of like the spice girls in the u.s.
debs: you’re kidding!
cf: they had top 40 songs and they did come from that l.a. hipster scene but they were like a mainstream band.
debs: they seemed very hip when we first knew them.
cf: they were hipper than the spice girls.
debs: when they first played in london they were supporting madness for a tour…
cf: what about the bangles? were they on your radar?
debs: not until we finished playing really.
cf: they were really good in their early days.
debs: they were brilliant. I remember hearing “going down to liverpool” on john peel’s show in ’85 or ’86, and I thought it was gorgeous. we had stopped playing by then, as dolly mixture, but there was more to come!
cf: what about the marine girls?
debs: a little bit. they got a lot more press coverage than us. I liked the marine girls, I thought they were really good. of course there was bananarama, but they were a different thing. more like a girl band now.


cf: you formed the dolly mixture when you were teenagers…
debs: yeah, we were at school.
cf: in the old photos you look like you were about 12.
debs: what happened was hester and I had a pretend band. this was before punk. we just play acted it at home and wrote fake newspaper articles and things. and just made up hilarious lyrics and stuff. at school suddenly everybody was forming bands. we were at a sixth form college. everybody was doing it. this girl we knew said “oh I’m singing at the school concert,” and we said “you lucky thing, you’re in a band?” and she said “yeah yeah yeah, you should come along, you can do backing vocals.” so we did backing vocals and it was so appalling that we split up immediately afterwards. and we said, let’s form our own band and we’ll play instruments. so we got rachel in, she was from the road that I lived in, and luckily she had a brother who was in cambridge’s big punk band the users, and they had equipment around their house. so we just went round and played on the equipment at her house and formed. and then somebody said “play at my party” and we said “yeah!” two months after we formed we had a set, and we could barely play but we did it. when we started, everyone loved it — they were just so impressed! probably just so surprised. it was hilarious.
cf: the word ‘indie’ hadn’t been invented yet in those days but that’s kind of what you guys were. what indie is now.
debs: we were sort of what it turned into.
cf: bob said he went to see you and that you guys were having so much fun onstage and just laughing a lot.
debs: we did laugh a lot onstage.
cf: other bands didn’t really do that. other girls in bands were trying to be really cool or something.
debs: yeah.
cf: what were your fans like?
debs: a real collection of…
cf: all boys?
debs: they weren’t all boys. there were so many different types. mods and punks and just people in sort of straight trousers and winkle pickers, all sorts of people.
cf: rock critics?
debs: a few…
cf: john peel?
debs: he didn’t come and see us but we played where he was djing so he saw us there. we did a road show with him and he was djing. and bless him he gave us half his money from the night and gently advised us to do fewer cover versions and more of our own stuff, cause we were doing half and half a set at the time. he was so wonderful and so brilliant. we were totally shy of him cause he just seemed so important to everyone’s existence. and then we were invited to do another one of his nights and then we did the session and then we never heard from him again. we did one in norwich and one in northampton somewhere.
cf: were you excitable fangirls about other groups?
debs: at the time we started, we’d been to gigs. we liked x-ray spex and the damned and blondie. blondie were a huge influence on us. when we listened to the first blondie tracks it was as if our band almost materialized. there were always certain songs that made you think, our band really exists. we could have a really good band. we were absolutely mad about the undertones for about three albums. we were obsessed and we supported them. we were keen on the jam too. I think we wanted to be the undertones. we were always listening and we were always being given stuff actually. the minute we started a band and did a gig, people would come up and say “i’ve got this record, maybe you’d like it?” and just give it to us. and say maybe you should listen to such-and-such. it was amazing what it generated with people around us. we were introduced to motown and velvet underground and all sorts of things. it was brilliant. punk was sort of happening alongside.
cf: were your parents worried about you going to gigs?
debs: oh yeah, terribly.
cf: did you go out on the road when you were teenagers?
debs: we did when we were 19 or so. we didn’t tour until a couple of years in, when we had left school and everything. it was when we sort of moved up to london. that’s when they started to get a bit worried! they always thought we were going to take drugs all the time.
cf: so what was the dolly mixture’s flat like?
debs: it was our manager’s flat and it was absolutely dire. he lived in these flats on charing cross road, they’ve been knocked down now, which overlooked soho market and chinatown. there were about two flats left that were occupied because they were gearing up to knock them down and he had one of them and it was basically two rooms and a toilet. there were junkies on the roof and on the stairs, it was a complete shock for us from our comfortable homes and our cats and our pianos.

(photo by gail o)
cf: there’s a thing called the rock & roll camp for girls. have you heard of it?
debs: wow, no.
cf: they’re starting one over here. in portland, oregon, they had one for 8 to 18 year old girls. they get there, they form bands and at the end of a week they have a gig.
debs: that’s crazy. it seems so normal — parents encourage it now. when we did it, it was a bit… not disgusting but there was still an edge of disapproval.
cf: you guys look so young and wholesome and innocent in those old photos, especially the other two, not that you don’t! it’s hard to imagine you in this punk scene where everyone was spitting…
debs: we were always in dirty places and we were always sort of grubby ourselves. we’d stayed in this dirty flat and we’d go home filthy. but we never got that enticed by…
cf: …debauchery?
debs: not really. we didn’t really have that much opportunity I suppose. but you see everyone we knew took drugs. it was all around us. but we hardly even drank. and it wasn’t even a conscious decision. I think we were very tunnel-visioned in a way, and a bit self-obsessed. we wanted to have a nice time but not realizing that some people had a nice time by getting completely out of it. I mean, obviously we probably tried the odd thing but it wasn’t what we were there for. we really were into our music, and also we just wanted to be loved.
cf: I wish I had known about bands like yours at the time. I didn’t really find out about any music like that until I went to college. I knew about blondie and patti smith.
debs: I used to love patti smith. it was before punk that I was really into patti smith. I used to listen to lots of heavy music as well — led zeppelin, black sabbath and deep purple and things. patti smith was slightly cooler.
cf: that was the funny thing about music at the time. you were only supposed to be into one or the other, you weren’t supposed to be into both. what’s wrong with liking everything that you like?
debs: it was definitely our sort of thing. it was always the song’s the thing. we didn’t care where it came from. we definitely started with the 60s thing and just got obsessed with anything that sounded like 60s music. it was all so undiscovered as well, there was so much to discover. which isn’t the same nowadays. then things were like gold dust — you hear something for the first time it was magical.
cf: nowadays it’s covers of things that we heard on the radio growing up.
debs: and everything’s an advert as well. paul’s and my favourite song — it was almost like ‘our song’— suddenly was in this advert. really disappointing! I didn’t think anybody had that.
cf: I guess it’s a real money-making temptation for a lot of bands.
debs: oh, I’d do it, especially now. I’ve never made any money out of music, apart from birdie, we got a bit of money from it records.
cf: growing up, was your family musical?
debs: my dad’s a musician. by night. he worked in an office in the daytime. he used to go and play music hall. he grew up playing classical piano. I used to play on my own when I was young, and then when I was 12 I started learning the piano. so they were really keen for me to do classical music. rachel’s parents were classical musicians — they were both violinists — so they were really quite surprised by their children who both went into bands. our ears were open.
cf: when did you decide, I want to write a song?
debs: when we started. once we had the band and we had to do something, we were so enthusiastic. it was accidental and then you start to get really serious about it. it’s funny, that transition from where you’re playing other people’s songs, which you love, and then your little stumbling efforts — two chords, three chords — and you’re really pleased you actually wrote a song. then you start to feel you’ve got a knack for it. then we became really, really serious about it.
cf: obviously you’ve been in a band [birdie] with your husband too, what was that like?
debs: kind of the same as not being in a band. we got together after we formed a band together. we’d already started writing things together.
cf: so you must have liked each other enough to form a band in the first place?
debs: oh yes. terribly keen. we’d spent a lot of time together on the road with saint etienne in the live band. we’d spent long hours together, we used to drink together and chat together. then saint etienne took a break, and we decided to form birdie. we had a few names before that. he used to come around and we’d play together and go to the pub. finally we decided to do a recording and jason [reynolds, summershine] put our first single out. I think it’s our best! that encouraged us. then we got signed on the promise that music would be good. so it records put out our first record.
cf: what about your own kids: are they musical at all?
debs: actually they are! sadie [nearly 10] won’t do any formal lessons but she loves picking out tunes. and I think donovan, who’s only just 2, is singing already.
cf: with a name like donovan…
debs: there’s some spirit in there!
cf: sadie will be ready for the girls rock! camp soon.
debs: she’d love it. she loves school of rock.
cf: the u.s. camps teach kids about body image and they learn self-defense as well.
debs: that’s quite good. it is really hard when you don’t have other people doing the same thing as you and people to identify with. I think it’s wonderful. it’s interesting to see what makes them different.
cf: what about rachel and hester? are you pals? do you see them?
debs: they both live in brighton. hester lives in brighton. I don’t see her. rachel I see every few months and we speak every now and then. she’s got a big family. she’s very busy in her village. I don’t know what she does all the time! I just know she’s very busy. she took her cello out again. she and her husband have been playing together a bit, in fields and at little festivals near brighton. we keep in touch and have a laugh about the old days.
cf: are you writing music these days?
debs: I try. I try. I don’t get much time. I’m quite exhausted really with the boy, family life in a cramped flat, it wears me out. I’ve got few little songs that I play on the guitar that are quite folky. three string songs they are, that I’d like to record one day because they’re different to what I’ve done before.
cf: how long have you been in saint etienne?
debs: I met them in 1992. in 1993, we did a duet, “who do you think you are?”, and I toured with them. it was great fun to do. I toured with them for a couple of years, and then it all stopped for years and years and years.
cf: and now you’re married into the same family.
debs: oh, I know I know. we all love each other so much.
cf: those crazy kelly brothers.
debs: it’s wonderful, it’s great. it’s a very close circle. they were going to do a greatest hits show at the palladium and they said “come and do ‘who do you think you are?’” and I said, “fantastic, I’d love to.” and they said, “would you like to do backing vocals for the rest of the set?” and it was great fun. and every time they’ve played since, I’ve been involved. I love it — it’s such fun.
cf: what’s it like going on tour with them? really sedate?
debs: no, it’s not sedate. especially the early gigs, that wasn’t sedate at all! we managed to stay up a lot. we did a lot of drinking. the best thing about it is that everyone is so hilarious. well, you know how funny they are.
cf: you and sarah both have two kids but you haven’t gained a pound. how do you do it?
debs: oh, I have!
cf: where?
debs: I can hide it under my cardigan and smock top. sarah actually is really skinny. after her kids, she’s just gotten skinny.
cf: have you ever had a day job?
debs: unfortunately, yeah. I’m not very well equipped at day jobs. the longest time I’ve ever worked at a day job was 10 months at a china and glass department in this big department store.
cf: sounds scary. did you knock things over?
debs: oh I did. so many near misses! I just looked at things and they fell down. I couldn’t bear it — I was so bored.
cf: so now the filmmaking supports you, is that it?
debs: something supports me, I certainly don’t know.
cf: is there a lot of unreleased dolly mixture stuff laying around?
debs: well, unfortunately, most of it’s been played on the internet. this really nice person in america took it off because we were thinking of re-releasing it ourselves. we said “keep the live gigs.” there are songs we did that I wish we had copies of, really peculiar things, more experimental things or stupid things. I’ve lost our first demo. none of us have it. I’ve lost rehearsal tapes. there’s loads I haven’t got.
cf: what about coming up roses?
debs: hmmm. the best thing about coming up roses was I met one of my best friends through that. that’s about it. we kept thinking we were going to be successful. we almost got signed to creation. we actually really weren’t that good. it was a bit of a mess. on the rebound from being in dolly mixture, a bit lost. I don’t like coming up roses.
cf: did you ever have to put up with hecklers?
debs: yes, we did, a lot, as dolly mixture.
cf: did you have comebacks ready for them?
debs: we never had any comebacks. we always did on the hoof and it was always either meaningless or luckily hit the spot. the one I remember hitting the spot most was when this boy was waving a condom at me and I was convinced he was saying “it’s too small! it’s too small!” or something — no, it was “it’s too big! it’s too big!” so I said, “oh, is it too big?” so everyone thought I was so brilliant saying is it too big. but in fact he’d given me the line already. the worst time was actually getting spat at.
cf: that is just so wrong.
debs: we did this tour supporting bad manners and they had a huge skinhead following who really hated us. we did over 20 dates on this tour and every night we got showered with spit. one night there was this foot-long thing hanging from the end of my bass for the entire gig, which we just found hilarious by then. they were so horrible, really nasty. we were just really determined to get to the end of the set. you don’t like us but we’re here! my parents came to see us in leicester and they just watched us get spattered. not pleasant. we supported the damned once as well and we got spat at as well but that was a sort of habit because it was a damned gig. that’s what we do.
cf: did you meet some appalling music biz people in those days?
debs: we met loads of appalling people! just about everybody who was in a record company at that point was vile. they were so big-headed!
cf: you say that as though things have changed…
debs: well, I don’t know. I imagine that people are more imaginative now. but there still must be some assholes. the guys were totally out of touch but they sort of assumed that they were in touch. they knew everything and they were sure that girls can’t play. almost everyone who ever wanted to sign us said, “we’ll sign you but you’ve got to have people playing on your record.” we were so angry about that. there were loads of bands who probably couldn’t play much better than us but because they weren’t female it was different. they just couldn’t sort of work out what we were. I suppose we couldn’t really work out what we were either. it was just weird.
cf: you were postpunk.
debs: we were postpunk but we didn’t sound postpunk. to me postpunk was something that certainly didn’t sound like us.
cf: another meaningless genre name, but I love that the term still exists.
debs: I remember reading one of those music magazines that did a whole issue about postpunk and apparently there was this whole ethic about it and they were doing some serious experimenting with sound. I couldn’t bear it!
cf: they couldn’t think of what to call music then.
debs: it’s like “punk” and “new wave.”
cf: who were you swooning over in those days?
debs: well, eventually one of the undertones. we swooned over the captain a bit, captain sensible. we were all a bit taken with him. he was wonderful. so interesting and funny. people like that really.
cf: what about now?
debs: there’s no one I swoon over now! the only band I’ve seen recently are the magic numbers, I love them. I don’t swoon over them, but I do like their music. the first time I saw them I was pregnant with my last child, and I was trembling with tears the whole time. I was blown over. they were doing things that I love, like playing the glockenspiel and singing girl-group harmonies, lovely pauses in the songs, and they just take their time. I love harmonies. that’s what I want to do, I just want to sing harmonies with people.
cf: are you being deprived of that?
debs: totally!
cf: is it because your filmmaker husband doesn’t have time for that?
debs: it’s because he’s never home! and because saint etienne don’t do enough. yeah. they’re not busy in a live sense at all. I have no time.
cf: what have you been listening to?
debs: northern soul. I keep harking back to old-school house music. I hear little bits on adverts and I want to have the record, the “I can’t wait for the weekend” sort of thing. some folk compilations that bob made for us that are absolutely magical. I don’t get much chance to hear music. I’m even going back into my past now. I’m addicted to christmas carols. [we go on and on about the ultra-fab phil spector christmas album] sometimes when you don’t get the chance to listen to music that much, especially your favorite songs, you realize how powerful they are. one song that always gets me is “lay lady lay” — every time I hear it I just collapse. I love hearing choral things this time of year.
cf: bob said you guys used to apologise between every song.
debs: we did do a lot of apologizing actually.
cf: thanks debs.
• listen to and learn about the dolly mixture here and here
• it’s easy to find footage of the dolly mixture’s “been teen”, a video for birdie’s “folk singer” and saint etienne performing “who do you think you are?” on youtube.com

the button-down mind of gaylord fields.

gaylord fields has been in chickfactor-land for many years. we once gave him our old job at spin magazine in the grunge era (lucky him!), we share a great deal of good taste in music with the guy, and we forced him to write for timeout new york and of course chickfactor. he has been DJing at the fantastic freeform new jersey radio station wfmu for ages and he does this thing every year with yo la tengo — well, let him tell you about it… (interview by gail o)

chickfactor: what exactly is this whole yo la thing you do every year on wfmu?
gaylord: wfmu is a noncommercial radio station in the new york/new jersey area that derives its income, with rare exceptions, entirely from our listening audience. every year without fail since 1996, yo la tengo, with guitarist bruce bennett on hand as the honorary “fourth tengo,” has appeared on my show (or, when there’s been a scheduling conflict, we’ve taken over some other poor soul’s show) and performed requests suggested by the listeners in order to raise cash during our annual fundraising drive. the idea is that for a particular dollar amount, they will do a request of the caller, with the stipulation that it not be an actual yo la tengo song. the uncanny results of several of these sessions have been released as yo la tengo is murdering the classics, on their own egon label.
what is the point?
maybe the point for them is to atone for atrocties performed by the band members in their previous lives. but they also prostrate themselves for wfmu‘s audience to help raise funds for the station, which they have supported in so many ways throughout the years and for which we are eternally grateful.
is the record any good?
despite what ira has said in the press (and in the record’s liner notes and every other opportunity he gets), it really is — just be mindful that in no way does it resemble the yo la tengo we all know and love. keeping in mind they’re playing songs they’ve literally never attempted before and that they had maybe two, three minutes to devise arrangements for, the yo la tengoness shines though in even the most shambolic renditions. besides, they perform “meet the mets” (the theme song of my favorite baseball team) and “don’t worry, kyoko” (my second favorite yoko song). and if you’re still not sold on it, the three of them are beautifully drawn by graphic novelist adrian tomine on the cover, as am I — which fulfilled my lifelong goal of being rendered as a comic-strip character.
how long have you known them?
I’ve known ira and georgia for 20 years, when I moved into the house where they and hoboken musical impresario todd abramson (maxwells, telstar records) resided, at todd’s invitation. I was their housemate for six or seven years. I’ve known james since he joined the band a few years hence.
which one is the meanest?
I’ve witnessed georgia taking a hammer to a beauty parlor chair, which is the meanest act I’ve seen any of them perpetrate.
the humblest?
they’re all exceedingly humble without any right to be in my musical opinion, especially considering they now tour in a big bus that has not one but two videogame systems in it.
the sexiest?
I’ve seen both ira and georgia in their pajamas, so they’re tied for the sexy prize. (sorry, james — but maybe this will be incentive to finally have that pj party where you show brigitte bardot clips and episodes of the magic johnson talk show.)
have you ever performed with yo la tengo? details please.
I can recall a few instances: the first was when todd and I did an on-the-air radio (wfmu, natch — before I was a dj there) phone-in duet on “farmer john” with them. the purpose was to test the setup for daniel johnston, who later gave his legendary phoned-in “speeding motorcycle” performance. I feel like I’m part of rock history for my contribution. another time, I sang a song during their encore at a knitting factory show — I don’t recall what it was. a third instance was when I sang the dictators’ “next big thing” with them at a show at maxwells in hoboken. I also participated in two of their world-renowned hanukkah shows. the first time, I sang two kiss songs — “strutter” and “calling doctor love” while standup comic todd barry banged on a drum in full peter criss makeup. the second was a dream come true — I performed a duet with lois, whose music I’ve admired for ages, on “je t’aime (moi non plus)” that was especially fun considering neither of us speaks a word of french! oh, have I mentioned that I can’t really sing?
are you a performer in your own right?
no, but people often confuse me with this guy called “the great gaylord” — he “sings” fifties-style screaming r&b. I hate his stupid grandiose name.
how long have you been a “mr dj man”?
while I’ve been doing radio at wfmu since 1992, I’ve only held the (purely honorary) title “mr dj man” since I was dubbed thusly by bob guccione jr circa 1996. radio is a great creative outlet for me, or at least doing freeform sets on wfmu is. if I had to cease doing it there, I probably wouldn’t do it at all. no, wait — I could envision myself doing one specific kind of formatted program somewhere else: I’ve on occasion played some easy listening/lounge/exotica/beautiful music sets on luxuriamusic.com and could see myself doing that on an irregular basis. as for discothèque dj gigs, from time to time I spin 45s at sixties soul dance nights.
what’s on heavy rotation right now?
as for old stuff — japanese gagaku (imperial court music), the lovin’ spoonful, ennio morricone and los shakers (because I dig fake beatles the utmost). way too much music from brazil, both old (like jorge ben) and new (such as marisa monte), is always part of my life’s soundtrack as well. I’ve recently emerged from a 1930s male crooners (gene austin, russ columbo, bing crosby, al bowlly) phase. also, I’ve just pulled out all my kirsty maccoll records, because I wish she were still alive to make music, so that’s what I’m reacquainting myself with next. as for what’s happening now, I listen to way too many swedish groups and can’t wait for the new concretes album after hearing their new post-victoria bergsman single “oh no.” and there’s a bossa nova song on the great new mary weiss record that was pretty much made for me!
you’re very snappily dressed for an indie rock dude. do you have any style advice for the gents?
fellas, iron those shirts! every ladyfriend I’ve ever had (including my wife) has given me extra credit for a) wearing pressed shirts, and b) ironing them myself. I’m strictly a button-down shirt wearer, because I like the timelessness of that look, but I sport the occasional steve mcqueen-inspired turtleneck for variety. I pretty much steer clear of the vintage gear or anything that evokes a particular era (my wife runs a vintage clothing shop — sorry, kathleen), with the exception of 1960s suits, which I prefer for some reason that’s most likely deep-seated and atavistic — probably a catholic school holdover.
any flirting tips, since you are known to be a huge flirt?
am I, really? that’s news to me! have you gals been comparing notes? well, eye of the beholder, I suppose. perhaps it’s that I really enjoy the company of women, and I think of myself as a good listener (as clichéd as that is), so take conversation seriously but have fun with it too. show off your sense of playfulness and humor, but don’t be a joke steamroller. also, always steer the conversation to how you like to iron your own shirts.

the broadcast is this friday march 16 at 8-11pm east coast us time — and yes, it’s streamed live at wfmu.org

photograph: kathleen o’malley

all dressed up in dreams.

stephen coates is the real tuesday weld. since we discovered him in the grim year of 2001, we have found much escapism and comfort in his whispery croons, crackly old-fashioned melodies and his fine pop platters. he is the sort who needs a theme to get the tunes moving — and a recent theme is dreams. together with the band he has written, performed and recorded a score for the surrealist film dreams that money can buy with david piper and cibelle narrating. I witnessed it at the nft but it all really came into place at the grand-scale turbine hall in the tate modern last year, where listeners sat on pillows and sipped champagne whilst watching the film and hearing the score. the real tuesday weld is playing a few dates soon in london, russia, edinburgh and some summer festivals. they’re nearly finished with their third album. stephen is collaborating with alex budovsky, who is doing the animations to teach kids to read — see lilipip.com. he just did a track for the rothko room at the tate modern as part of their tate tracks series. stephen’s best mate glen duncan wrote a novel called I, lucifer, which is now filming on the streets of london and starring terence stamp and ewan mcgregor so if they have any sense the filmmakers will use the real tuesday weld’s soundtrack which was created years ago. we caught up with stephen to find out what he was dreaming about…

chickfactor: why did you choose dreams that money can buy to score? was it your idea? what was it like playing it at the tate modern? will you collaborate with cibelle again?
stephen: I was introduced to it by marek pytel of reality film — it was that or the amazing f for fake by orson welles — but the look and subject matter (dreams. art. psychotherapy. loss) of the richter film seemed perfect. the tate show was amazing — I never imagined we would do something like that — and I love that building. it was immense and it felt like a unique experience — can’t imagine playing somewhere that tall again. I hope to do something else with cibelle — we keep talking about it. we are still doing the dreams show — belfast film festival this month.
it seems like dreams play a big part in your waking life. apart from that one about waking up in bed with the proclaimers (I love that one), what dreams have you had that you still remember today? do you ever hear music in your dreams and try to remember it when waking up?
the proclaimers one was worse than you remember — I dreamt that I was asleep and woke up between them — it was awful. they were both just staring at me through their glasses. I still keep my dream diary and I think that something from the dreams infiltrates the work but my attempts to write songs about dreams haven’t been particularly successful except in a couple of cases — and they were really more like songs about dreaming. to catch a dream needs quite a lot of words and subtlety — maybe not best suited to the song structure —- it just sounds like bad poetry. I have very beautiful music in dreams and usually it leaves you on waking but the tune from that song ‘dreaming of you’ I heard in a dream — or maybe the vibe of it at least. the other night I dreamt of a horse with a woman’s head down by the thames again — that’s a repeating one. I dreamt that the fleet river flowed again — in the valley down behind gray’s inn road. I have been having apocalyptic london dreams — walking through the city in darkness with all sorts of people from all different times crowding around.
you seem to spend a lot of time travelling all over england/wales/scotland etc. what are your favourite places to see?
I had some very peculiar experiences in the cambrian mountains west wales a few years ago and like to go back there. I did a kind of archaeological survey of a particular valley and identified all the prehistoric sites there. it’s very beautiful and strange. we have been going to skye a bit — most recently for a funeral. nix’s uncle died and her cousin hugh became the new clan chief of the macleods — like in highlander your favourite film. the west coast of scotland is mind-blowing — the perfect antidote to (and appetiser for) london.
how has the internet changed the way you find out about music and the way people find out about you? do you sell any records? or is it all from mp3 purchases? and what about this podcasting stuff and blogging? do you do that? is it fun?
I rarely use it to find out about music myself — because I seem to have plenty to listen to already but I think it’s been very empowering for musicians — you can bypass the normal distribution channels blah, blah, blah… I hate the way myspace looks but it’s an amazing thing and there is no doubt that many more people have heard what I have been doing because of all that. the records seem to sell fairly steadily in small quantities. I’ve got no idea about how many downloads there have been. I can only assume from your question that you haven’t been keeping up with my podcasting and blogsite — shame on you gail… but I love that — I think that was the most enjoyable thing last year and I am gearing up for another series now.
how many commercials have you done (don’t be ashamed)? are there any products you would refuse to give your music to? do you make a living off music?
maybe 10-15? most of the ones you see on tv which sound like the real tuesday weld aren’t. I have turned down several — including something very lucrative – much to the chagrin of certain people. I won’t do meat — or guns. I have mostly made a living from music for the last three / four years.
which artists are you keen to collaborate with? did you ever hear back from jane birkin?
you know, I never tried jane b — but I loved her latest — that was really great. I am doing a few collaborations for this next record — shirley bassey would be my fantasy.

photograph: the real tuesday weld live in berlin, 2004, gail o’hara

mini interview: joan as police woman!


joan wasser has been around chickfactor’s world for many years. she played at our second ever live gig with mary timony — they used to make an amazing sound together with just violin and guitar and singing, and of course she played in dambuilders, black beetle, etc. these days I see her solo project posters (she’s called joan as police woman) all over london and she’s getting raved about everywhere we look. her real life album is coming out in the states on cheap lullaby records on 12 june, and before that you can find her playing sxsw, headlining her way across the EU and then touring the US and australia (see her website for dates) — joan is busy! — before she starts making another record in autumn for a 2008 release. we checked in with the foxy lady for to see what’s going on…

chickfactor: are the other members of your band scared of you, or are you scared of them?
joan: I think everyone in the band has moods that the others would not exactly beg to experience. but scared? not yet.
which member of your band is the one who gets picked on by the others? it’s got to be the drummer guy, right?
I guess so ben looks like he’s asking for it, doesn’t he? he’s also the most gullible at times, so we can all get him a little riled up. but really he’s also the sweetest.
what’s it like being in a band with rainy?
it’s like getting to the top of mount everest.
do you plan any other identities — joan as astronaut, joan as paramedic?
oh god. I think being a police woman is enough. it’s funny now when I see cops I have a completely different feeling about them. I feel like madonna co-opting all the faggotry for her own uses except I am just using the police dept. sometimes I think they are the biggest bottoms and are somewhere begging to be used. you are certainly welcome to disagree.
you’ve always had fabulous (and at times BIG) hair. do you have any beauty secrets?
ummm, I try to walk in a straight line nowadays it’s easier now that I stopped drinking. also, I know that it’s been touted as a bonus for hair, but I found that beer does NOT help voluminous hair stay voluminous. so stay away from that PBR girls!
got any crushes? what is the secret to getting what you want in love and sex?
I think that loving yourself is the greatest way to get whatever it is you need, in love and sex and in life in general. when you are honestly happy with yourself and the way you carry yourself in the world, it is then that you attract the kind of person you want to be with and you naturally develop the ability to ask for what you want and need. this concept has taken me until NOW to figure out. and I have finally fallen in love. for the first time. because I can now look myself in the eye without flinching. previously, I was just running. I finally got tired enough to face myself. here’s to exhaustion!

thanks to peter momtchiloff for question help!
photograph: courtesy joan as police woman