Ahhhhh…Tub Ring! These guys from Chicago are insane, they’re intense, they’re nuts, they’re…wonderful. Their style is a style that encompasses punk, pop and experimental music, and they mix it up in such a way that will leave you gasping for air. I know that when I heard their recent release, Zoo Hypothesis, I was totally, utterly blown away. It’s fun, it’s interesting, and it’s totally, utterly Tub Ring. Live…they’re…insane…and I’m being quite modest. Just watch keyboard player Rob Kleiner, and you’ll soon witness the definition of ‘insanity.’ Sean and I had a great time, even though the night looked to be a disaster, thanks to a double booking at the club which prompted a last-minute venue change and two reviewers who wanted to see both shows. (We did, and Tub Ring was clearly the winner of the night.)

JK: So, how long have you been with Tub Ring? Too long?

Yeah. (laughs) Too long. Well, Tub Ring started when the singer and the bassist were in high school. It was a punk rock band, but it has nothing to do with the music we’re doing now. I think I joined in ‘98. That’s kinda when it took the shape that it is now. It’s been six years…which is kinda disgusting, but I was little then.

JK: Do you feel as if your presence added a new set of influences that contributed to where the band’s music is now?

What’s funny is that they were a punk band when I was in high school, and I was in a metal band. We were both in the Chicago scene, but my band had been plugging along for about two years with zero fans. Tub Ring came along and were, like, funny pop-punk…and overnight, they had all these fans. There were kids in my high school wearing their T-shirts…so I was like, “Fuck Tub Ring! I wanna kill those guys! (everyone laughs) How come MY band doesn’t have kids wearing our T-shirts?” I hated them, and I refused to go see their shows…but I became friends with Kevin the singer and, years and years later --- maybe around ’97 --- we became friends AGAIN. We used to follow Mr. Bungle around the country and see their shows.

JK: You know, that wipes out my next 10 questions. (everyone laughs) You can’t listen to the last two Tub Ring records and NOT think “Mr. Bungle”…or, at least, I know that I can’t.

Like I said, I’ve listened to them since I was little. Before I heard them, I was into Whitesnake and Poison. I think that every person has a band that kinda breaks them into good taste.

SP: (laughs) A gateway band?

Exactly! You’re listening to shit…and one day you hear this band
that you don’t think you like at first…

JK: “What the hell is THAT??!?”

Yeah! You think, “What the hell is that?” It doesn’t make any sense to you for the first 10 listens, but for some reason you keep listening anyway. It’s like an epiphany, and then you enter into good taste. (everyone laughs) I think Mr. Bungle was that for me. I’ve always felt a close bond to them for what they did for me. They were definitely a huge influence. I don’t think I’ve popped one of their CDs in for years, but it’s still deep-rooted.

SP: When a band’s music is deeply rooted inside of you, you don’t necessarily have to listen to them all the time. My “gateway band” was
My Bloody Valentine, and I know their “Loveless” album from back to front even though I haven’t listened to it in about seven or eight months. Rob: Yeah, and until the day you die you’ll give them credit. Even though you might not listen to them for three decades, someone will bring them up and you’ll say, “Hey, that was a good band.”

JK: Once you hear “Stub-a-dub” you’ll never forget it anyway! That
record’s just fucking amazing…

That first one? Yeah.

JK: …and I guess that Tub Ring’s progression is a bit like Mr.Bungle’s in that they were a band in the ‘80s that started out as regular punk, and then came out with the one that Mike Patton did with them.

He’s been in the band from the beginning, but I know what you
mean. They did “OU818” and things started getting crazy. When I joined, they wanted to do more experimental stuff. They didn’t want to be a punk band anymore. At that point, we should have just changed the name of the band so that it wouldn’t have anything to do with the high school punk band that it was. In Chicago, there are a lot of people that still think that that’s what it is. For a while, we couldn’t get booked at certain places, or people would dismiss us right away.

JK: Are the two bands you’re playing with tonight straight-up punk?

I’d say that the experimentalism of Tub Ring is to punk rock what
Dog Fashion Disco is to metal. Bad Acid Trip is a little coarser. They’re definitely metal and insane, but the insanity fueled by rage more than it is by experimentalism.

SP: Are all three bands touring together right now?

Yeah.

Have you been getting good responses?

It’s been an amazing tour. Houston on a Wednesday night is pretty rough, but most of the shows --- NYC, Chicago, Tampa, Indianapolis,
Baltimore --- they’ve been huge. Every night’s been huge. Even on the smaller nights, there are at least a good 30 or 40 people, which is a nice turnout if you’re doing experimental shit.

JK: One thing I’m looking forward to seeing tonight is the showmanship. One word that came to my mind when listening to Zoo Psychology was “showmanship.” Is that a big part of your live act? I get the feeling that when Tub Ring is on stage, they want to put on a good show.

SP: Yeah, the music sounds very theatrical on record. It’s almost as if you can visualize the singer jumping out at you during the screaming parts.

Just wait. You’ll see. (everyone laughs) Everybody always told us before this record that the live shows were a trillion times better.
“You don’t translate very well on record, but I love your live show!” I think that the new album closes the gap. It’s definitely more equal now. If you’ve never seen a Tub Ring show, your question will be answered by the end of the show.

JK: There’s another band that you guys remind me of, who I wanted to ask you about…Tripping Daisy.

I read that in your review. Who are they exactly? Is that the singer of the Polyphonic Spree? What was the single?

JK: (sings) “I got a girl who lives with me…”

I like them, and I REALLY like the Polyphonic Spree, but I wouldn’t consider them an influence.

JK: When they were doing their thing live back in the ‘90s, they were insane. They were big on showmanship and multimedia. When I saw them, they had 10-foot films behind them, beside them and all around them, all going on at once. They were really big into improvisation. They’d even have sets in which they said, “We’re not gonna play any songs that you know,” and just wing it from that point on. It was awesome! Do you guys do a lot of improv in your sets?

No. You go through phases in which your musical tastes grow and change and modify themselves. For a long time, I really liked improvisation, but now I’m firmly anti-improv. I don’t believe in improv at all.

JK: “Play the set list!”

Yeah, I’m not saying that it shouldn’t sound different from the record, but I like everything to be precise, neat and calculated. I love calculation, where you have blueprints of how you want something executed, and then you go and execute it…(snaps fingers)…to a T.

SP: I’m not shocked at all.

JK: I thought you guys were teetering on the edge of falling apart…not necessarily loose musically, but…

SP: …because there are so many shifts.

JK: …you reach track five or six, and by then the album just becomes
one long song!

The way it’s mixed together, it kinda does. In a sentence: I don’t mind it sounding like it’s unplanned and improvised, but in fact…the blueprints are all there. I like it to be deceptive so that you don’t know whether we meant to do stuff or not, but I don’t believe in improv at all…at least not with this project.

JK: Do you have other projects?

Yeah, I do but nothing…(trails off)

JK: …worth mentioning?

Well, it’s ALL worth mentioning, but nothing that anyone’s going to read about for a year or two.

JK: In other words, you’ve got your plans in the basement. What about the other guys? Do they do anything outside of Tub Ring? I mean, who’s the real musical driving force behind the band?

The singer and I. I do keyboards and write most of the music, and the singer writes most of the lyrics. It’s mainly the two of us. You know, back in Chicago he and I do music for TV commercials. I’ve done a couple things on soundtracks and TV shows. I think Kevin sang in Coors Lite commercial, and I’ve played in a couple commercials. There is gonna be more stuff, but it’s just starting now. I’m teetering with two ideas right now. I want to have a 12-piece orchestra to tour with, and then I also want to have a pop band with me and, like…six chicks playing in the background. (everyone laughs)

JK: Robert Palmer style!

Yeah, exactly! That’s the only thing I can compare it to, but that’s
what I want it to be: hot chicks and then me.

SP: Except that your chicks will actually be able to play instruments and not look bored while doing so.

That’s the problem…finding THAT. (everyone laughs)

SP: You just said that you and the singer do music for commercials.
I’ve heard from other people who do commercials that the process is very, very precise. You have to get it one or two takes, and it’s done very quickly and in a regimented style. Do you think that that way of working informs what Tub Ring does as well?

I’ve never thought of that…that’s a really good question. I’d have to say yes. Looking at the broader picture, though, I’d say that’s what all indie-rock is --- not just Tub Ring. Indie-rock is music that needs to be brilliant, but also costs next to nothing to make…’cause nobody has any money to make the music. (everyone laughs) It’s coming out of the artist’s pockets, or out of the pocket of a true fan who wants to start a label. They need to make it sound amazing, and they’ve gotta go into a studio and crank out…fucking GENIUS in no time flat. I mean, a Britney Spears single can sound fucking awesome, but they can work on it for a month with an unlimited budget. I’m not trying to rip on Britney Spears; I love the production on a lot of pop music…but indie music has to compete with multimillion-dollar corporate music, and it has to do so on a budget…

SP: …with one hundredth of the resources.

Exactly! What you’re saying --- that it has to be done within one or two takes --- is probably conducive to ALL indie-rock, not just Tub Ring. I think that’s an excellent point, though, and it’s totally valid.

JK: Where do you think that Tub Ring fits in the scope of indie-rock? It seems like you’re somewhat of an enigma no matter where you go. You’ve got these elements of screamo punk, and then you turn around and have really poppy moments. Do you ever find it really difficult to simply exist on your own?

Well, a lot of people won’t give anything outside the set box a chance, but screw all them. I’m not gonna play stuff I don’t wanna play to make other people happy. I think that’s another really good point. I’ve been reading a lot of good quotes from people who write music reviews while looking for Tub Ring reviews. I don’t normally read a lot of record reviews, unless they’re about a record that I’m interested in buying.
My philosophy has always been that the people who are making the best music today are the people with the best record collections. People that have the best stuff coming into their ears are going to have the best stuff coming out of them in their music. I read a really interesting review of Clinic that said, essentially, “These guys must have an awesome record collection.”

I don’t know if anyone else would understand it, but it really spoke
to me. That’s a really great compliment to give someone. You’re saying that everything in Tub Ring skips around so much, and I think that it’s because we love so many different types of music that it would be a disservice to just play pop or punk. That would get so fucking boring to me…or even to play beautiful Beach Boys shit all the time, or bad-ass grind-punk. I mean, it’s cool on its own, but there’s so much good stuff out there, so experiment with all of it!

JK: It’s too bad that you guys couldn’t get on a bill with Black Dice (band playing across the street that night, along with Animal Collective), because that’s almost exactly what their philosophy is. When they started out, they were releasing 7-inches with 12 songs on one side. Everyone got used to them being this wild, screaming band…but now they’re doing 15-minute ambient pieces that still contain the elements of what they first started out with.

Well, you’ve given a good endorsement of what they’re doing, ‘cause I’m already sold. I’m excited to hear what they’re doing.

JK: At the same time, the lead singer of Black Dice band is interested in things that his audience wouldn’t expect. He’s also in this twee indie-pop band called the Ninjas.

Awesome!

SP: I agree that the best music is often a filter of everything that the artist hears. The finished product doesn’t end up sounding like seven or eight things awkwardly stitched together, but instead it’s very nebulous. It never fits into any sort of genre at any given time, even as it’s hopping across genres. You can’t say, “This is the punk moment,” or “This is the Beach Boys moment” because everything fits together well.

I’ve heard it the other way too, where it sounds really forced. I think that’s an excellent compliment when you say that a band can sound smooth and cohesive even when they’re trying to sound un-cohesive.

JK: Has Tub Ring personally been enjoying this tour?

Yeah. It’s really cool. I think that when you get a package of good bands to tour together, it’s way better than just going out on your own.

JK: Who’s the first band up tonight?

Rob: Bad Acid Trip. Do you know System of a Down? (we nod our heads) The lead singer, Serj, has a record label called Serjical Strike and Bad Acid Trip are his main flagship band.

JK: So it’s more metallic?

It’s metal, but it’s weird metal. It doesn’t have the keyboard element that the other two bands on the bill have, but they’re just as spastic and weird. They just did a tour with GWAR.

JK: Have they been around for a while?

Yeah, but they haven’t left California until recently. They got a lot of exposure touring with GWAR, and they did a tour with Motoraider.
The System of a Down guy’s been talking them up a lot.

JK: For some reason, when I see the name Dog Fashion Disco I think of the Butthole Surfers.

Nah…like I said, Dog Fashion Disco is to metal what Tub Ring is to
punk. They have a lot of different genre collisions total.

JK: Well, “punk” isn’t an adjective I would come up when listening to your record.

Really? Well, I think that it’s BASED on punk. You know what I mean? There was some idiot a couple of weeks ago in New York who was trying to say that Amadeus was punk, because to him it was more of an attitude thing than a musical thing…to which I say, “Yeah, but…no.” I think that the attitude of recklessness mixed with a good amount of the songs having a bit of punk rock in them…I would still call Tub Ring punk. It’s interesting to hear you say that you wouldn’t…and I guess that I wouldn’t either, but if someone asked you to describe Tub Ring in a sentence, the quickest shit I could say would be “punk.” It isn’t necessarily the most accurate thing…

SP: …but it’s the biggest signifier that would draw people in.

Yeah. I would tell people “experimental punk,” or spastic punk.

JK: I know that this is kind of a smaller venue. Do you have any sort of multimedia presentation along with the show?

Nope. When you see us, you’ll know that there’s no need for multimedia. We all spazz out and break things. We break ourselves. (everyone laughs) There’s all kinds of breaking and freaking out.

JK: You’re doing the …Trail of Dead thing.

Yeah. You’ll see. It’s freaky.

JK: When Sean saw them at SXSW, somebody had stolen a car and put it on the train track behind the club after the show.

SP: The train ran into it, and that was the finale of the show…and that was already after the near-riot that Trail of Dead started with the sound men by handing pieces of their drum kit to the audience. That was in 2001, but they suck live now. They played at the Siren Fest this summer and they were terrible.

Well, we don’t have a label that puts any money or does anything for us. All of our fans and all of our notoriety comes from our live show.
We’re not on the radio or on MTV. This is it. It’s just word of mouth
from our live show…

SP: …which is the best and most organic way to gain a fan base anyway. When a band puts on a good live show, you can see the real talent on display.

JK: That’s how Tripping Daisy made their fan base, and that’s pretty much how the Polyphonic Spree did it too. You don’t have a label deal, so you just go out and play everywhere all the time. You have a really whacked out live show. Then again, I guess that’s true with all of the great bands. They worry about the live show first, because if the shows are good, people will buy your records at the shows. I think I was going somewhere with this…

SP: When you’re a good live band, you don’t have as much of a need for a publicist because the people who see you live will publicize it for you.

Yeah, word of mouth is the best…

JK: …and that’s total punk rock.

It’s human nature. If a friend tells you about something and gives it a good recommendation, it means way more than some PR guy going, “Here’s the new thing. This is so cool. You need this.” That works on kids and basic consumers, but people that are out there looking for good music? It’s word of mouth.

JK: Yeah, PR gets old. I hate hearing about how a band is awesome…

SP: …and you’re hearing it from magazine writers who are regurgitating press releases.

JK: …or from publicists who review their own records in big magazines. See, that shit pisses me off.

It’s the nature of the beast, though. I was just having a
conversation inside with our merch guy, Alfredo. I don’t ever want to badmouth any other artist, and I’m not trying to do that by bringing this up…but I was asking Alfredo, “How old do you think the guys in Blink 182 are?” He replied, “Probably in their 30s.” They’re still doing pop/punk. I’ve got nothing against pop/punk, and I’ve got nothing against doing music for money either, if that’s what you’re setting out to do…but at that point, that’s what they’re doing it for. They’re doing it to make money. They’re doing it to provide themselves and their families with food, shelter, and luxuries. Do you think that they actually LISTEN to pop/punk? If they do, then they’re deprived. What artist at the age of 35 hasn’t matured out of pop/punk?

SP: They’re singing about emotions and experiences that haven’t been
their own for at least 15 years.

Exactly! That’s my theory!

JK: That makes perfect sense.

There’s a pop/punk band from my hometown that I see selling about the same amount of records as us. I wonder how long they’re gonna do that for. They’re all around my age.

SP: It’s arrested development.

…and then, when it IS all over, are they gonna be able to look back and say, “Wow…we made some significant art.” I don’t think so.

This interview ran in Mundane Sounds in November, 2004

Labels: Tub Ring, Vintage Interviews

posted by joseph kyle @ 9:35 AM 0 comments

Harvey Danger

Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Ahhhhh, Harvey Danger! You may remember them from such pop hits as "Flagpole Sitta" and...well...nothing else. See, back in that heady year of 1998, they were part of a very brief Power Pop revival, one that included bands like Third Eye Blind, Semisonic, Fastball and Vertical Horizon. Yeah, yeah, if you're old enough, you remember those songs, and you'll remember how they were overplayed. But if you go back and listen to them now, you'll discover something rather shocking: these songs are excellent. These bands wrote great songs in spite of their one-hit wonder status--and Harvey Danger was no exception.

But like these other bands, Harvey Danger's post-hit story is a little bit messy, and as you'll soon see, it caused the band to split. After releasing King James Version, an excellent record in every sense of the word, the band split, simply because...well, no one knew that they'd released a new record. But a well-received ten year reunion show prompted the band to consider reforming, leading them to record Little by Little.., the band's best record to date. It's a wonderful album--and to prove how good it is, they decided to give it away via download. It's a radical move, and one that's reaped them a great deal of attention--and rightly so. As you can see, Nelson has a lot to say, and it's an honor to present this brief but extensive interview with the man himself. It's insightful, it's telling, it's entertaining, and it's one of my favorite interviews to date.

If we could look back for a moment, what happened with King James Version? Could you describe some of the hassles that you had with the label at the time, and were these things responsible for Harvey Danger's break-up that followed?

The short answer is that the music business happened to it. Though I could tear open all the psychic wounds that have covered over that period in my mind, I think it best just to say that we signed up with the wrong label. Though, in all fairness, it wasn’t really their fault, exactly—not at first, anyway. Around the middle of 1998, when everything was going great guns with “Flagpole Sitta” and all we as a band could think about was how eager we were to get off the road, spread our wings, and make a new record (remember that Merrymakers was recorded in 1996, so by then it was very old for us), we started hearing about how some beverage company was buying some record company and how there was going to be some kind of merger or whatever. We thought very little of it because, frankly, we were too busy pretending that we weren’t really part of the music business because we preferred Pavement to Sugar Ray. But then, as we were making the second record, finally, in 1999, after 8 solid months of touring, the merger happened, our label was dissolved, and we had to spend almost two years wondering who owned our contract, which label would work with us, and, ultimately, how to get dropped so we could just put KJV (which we were and are fiercely proud of) out on Barsuk. It was a miserable time, easily the worst I’ve ever felt—all that success, tainted though it was by the cheapness of the inevitable one-hit wonder associations, felt like the big league dues we had to pay before we could drop what we felt like was a much more impressive and meaningful work on the world of “Flagpole” listeners/radio programmers/all-purpose haters. But it was not to be. By the time all the legal bullshit finally got sorted out, it was Fall of 2000, the radio and MTV had completed their transformation into Limp Bizkitry, and no one wanted to know about little HD anymore, industry-wise… which would have been fine if we hadn’t just spent so much time and effort immersed in that industry. It was just too heartbreaking, and none of us had the stamina to continue. We did a bit touring and got a lot of excellent press, but the prevailing sense was that the world had no idea KJV had even come out. Though it has gone on to be a legitimate cult record, and that is deeply gratifying, the anticlimax of its release was really what killed the band’s spirit. The body followed about seven months later. It was really sad.

What prompted you to rekindle the Harvey Danger torch? Was there a particular moment that made you think, "it's time...the world needs us!"?

I wish I felt like the world needed us! No, it’s way more like we decided that we needed the world, or rather, that we needed each other. There arose a shared conviction between me, Jeff, and Aaron that we still had work to do, that we could power through the angst of the past and make better music together than we could separately. That was all. I had worked with both Jeff and Aaron separately through the three years we were broken up, writing songs, sometimes doing impromptu performances with friends (I hosted a variety show called “All Things To All People” in Seattle for a couple of years, and we did a lot of stuff there). It was only a matter of time (and much, much hemming and hawing) before we all three tried to get some stuff going. Then, when I was in the throes of making my putative solo record (more on this below), we decided to take a couple of the songs we’d been working on into the studio, just for a day, just to get them down. They were “Wine, Women, and Song” and “I Missed It,” both of which wound up on Little By Little… (the latter is on the bonus disc). It just felt amazing and right, the way it hadn’t felt for years—either on my own in the studio or for the last few years of Harvey Danger. There was chemistry again. Ira from Nada Surf played drums. It was the day before The Long Winters were leaving on another tour, and I spent the whole time listening to those two songs. When I got back, I was pretty much resolved that no matter how we decided to do it, no matter what we called it or what form it took, the three of us were musically involved again. Fortunately, Jeff and Aaron felt the same. The 10th anniversary show we played in April of 2004 was what clinched it. It was an amazing sense of communion with the audience and each other, a line around the block, TV cameras, waterslides, laser tag, the whole thing. People flew in from all over the country. It was easily one of the highlights of my life. Though I’d met a lot of people while touring with the Long Winters who’d told me bashfully how much they missed Harvey Danger, and how much they loved King James Version, it didn’t really click until that night that there was a real audience out there who had a meaningful connection with the work we did, and not just the one song. Still, we decided to take it slowly. It wasn’t until we hooked up with Michael Welke, our new drummer, that it really made sense to get serious. The new record was an extension of the enthusiasm we rediscovered for playing together.

In visiting your fan forum, it seems as if your loyal and longtime fans are quick to dismiss 'the hit' and are even quicker to point out that there's more to Harvey Danger than that one moment seven years ago. Looking back, is it tempting to be dismissive or cynical about the success of "Flagpole Sitta?"

The fear isn’t that we’ll only ever be known for one song; that’s pretty much a certainty, since the circumstances that brought us to the national stage are unlikely ever to repeat themselves. The issue is that “Flagpole” belongs to the world (which, as The Smiths remind us, won’t listen) and the rest of the songs belong to us and the true fans. I think it’s the same with any band that has had a similar experience, but perhaps a bit more pronounced with us because “Flagpole Sitta” is kind of a stylistic anomaly among our other stuff—and certainly our new material. It’s always a little more satisfying when someone develops a relationship with the songs you know they had to seek out, whereas basically anyone in the world might have been exposed to “Flagpole.” With all that in mind, I’ve really come to terms with that song and its success. It’s well put together, catchy as hell, and it still makes me chuckle to think it was ever so freaking huge, since I still think the words are kind of subversive, at least for the commercial airwaves. And a surprising number of very cool people have expressed their admiration for what the song is really up to. Though I still have to leave the room most times it comes on the radio or jukebox or whatever, I’ve also started to enjoy playing it live—mainly because we now don’t have to do so every time we perform. There’s nothing like a hit to light up a room.

Have you been tempted to pull a Jacob Slichter and write a tell-all biography about your music biz experience? And, um, why haven't you? (Slichter is the drummer of Semisonic, who in 2004 published a very telling and often hilarious biography, So You Want To Be a Rock and Roll Star?)

It was actually Jake’s book that made me put away the 75 pages of detailed notes I had compiled with just such a project in mind. Not necessarily a tell-all, but a memoir. He did a great job with that book of his—though, it was really interesting to read his version of certain events at which I was actually physically present, and how different my perspective on them was (we toured with Semisonic for 3 weeks in ’98 at our mutual career peaks). I don’t know. It could happen. I sort of feel like making an effort to put all that stuff behind me rather than re-dredging it might be a more fruitful enterprise. Still, I appreciate the thought, and the tacit vote of confidence that comes with it.

From the very first notes of "Wine, Women & Song," it's obvious that Little by Little... heralds a new direction for Harvey Danger. Was it intentional that you made a mellower record--one with more intricate arrangements and a newfound prominence of piano--or were you just as surprised to find that this was the direction your muse decided to go?

It was definitely intentional on my part. I’d been trying to convince Jeff to play more piano for years, since “Pike St./Park Slope” had come together so nicely. He was reluctant, I think, because he associates it with his pre-rock period (childhood lessons and such). I just think he comes up with great, expressive piano parts, and that it would be interesting to try something different from what we’d grown accustomed to as a young band. It felt like a good challenge to confront. The main thing, though, in terms of the overall feel is that most of these songs were written in the living room of my apartment (where the piano lives), and therefore have a necessarily mellower sound—the sound of an apartment, where you can’t play too loud without pissing off the neighbors, as opposed to our previous records, which were written in basements and practice spaces, where you kind of want to piss off as many neighbors as possible. We’re just not like that anymore--though maybe we will be again. I know I’ve found myself reaching for This Year’s Model quite a bit lately, now that we’ve made our mellow, stately melodic record. The next batch of songs will likely be more rock.

The reasoning behind your decision to give away Little by Little is quite intriguing. At what point did you decide on such an unusual (at least for a much more well-known band like Harvey Danger) method of distribution? How has the reaction been so far; how many copies have been downloaded so far--and do you think this decision's helped?

The idea was hatched after we played a big successful showcase at SXSW just after we’d finished the record. We just couldn’t escape the conviction that none of the standard issue modes of being a band made sense to us. We don’t fit on majors and we don’t really fit on indies. We can’t do extensive touring, we’re not young and hot, and there’s weird baggage attached to our name. In addition, there’s the discomfort when working with labels of meeting other people’s expectations—even reasonable ones—and more to the point, their schedules. The main issue was that we wanted people to hear the record in a timely fashion, money be damned. We also reasoned that no matter what we did, we’d have to figure out some way of dealing with the—let’s call it skepticism (for charity’s sake)—that always plagues bands who try and make comebacks. The guys in Nada Surf dealt with it by 1) making their best record to date, and 2) touring their fucking asses off. We felt like we’d done #1, but for a variety of personal reasons, simply could not commit to doing #2. All of these factors were part of the decision. It also just feels weirdly right. And Jeff is a computer nerd, so he has really enjoyed masterminding the whole operation (with a little help from his friends). The key issue: We wanted to remove all obstacles to people hearing the record and developing a relationship with our music and our band. Working backwards from there, it wasn’t too hard to arrive at a free download model. Best of all, it seems to be working; by the time this gets printed, we’ll probably be sitting with around 100,000 downloads or so. And the hard copy version is also selling pretty well, especially in Seattle. We’ll be doing a bit of touring next year, so I guess that’ll be the real test, but for now, everything seems to be in its right place, to coin a phrase…

It's also rumored that you have a solo album waiting in the wings. What's the story behind that, who did you work with, and will it see the light of day any time soon?

In the three years that Harvey Danger was broken up, when I wasn’t busy touring with The Long Winters, I began no fewer than four solo or collaborative projects, all of which are in some stage of near-completion. They are, in no real order: 1) Sean Nelson and His Mortal Enemies—a collection of songs I’ve written alone and co-written with Peter Buck and Aaron from HD, and recorded with members of Centro-matic, Little Grizzly, and Okkervil River. Robyn Hitchcock also makes a cameo on one of the songs. 2) Nelson Sings Nilsson—an album of Harry Nilsson covers I’m making with Steve Fisk. 3) Society of the Golden West—a robot pop collaboration with Fisk and John Goodmanson (and just to give you a sense of how long we’ve been dicking around, this project actually pre-dates the Postal Service). 4) The Vernacular—me and Chris Walla making rock songs. I have no idea if or when any of this stuff will ever see the light of day. It’s complicated.

(At the risk of tooting my own horn, I’ve also been doing a lot of session work as a harmony singer. In the past few years, I’ve appeared on three Death Cab for Cutie records, as well as two by the Long Winters (duh), and one each by Nada Surf, The Decemberists, and Robyn Hitchcock. More to come. It’s really fun.)

Looking back over your experiences from the last eleven years, what advice would you give to young musicians and bands?

My/our experience is so bizarre that I kind of don’t feel qualified to give much advice. What I will say is that no force can destroy a band that knows what they want and who they are. It’s difficult sometimes to believe that the clichés of music can pertain to you, but they really can (and in many cases, they probably already do). My advice is to show up on time, keep challenging yourself, don’t ask/wait for anyone else’s permission to record or tour, and generally aim for self-sufficiency, because that’s the only thing that ends up being truly satisfying. And always bet on black…

Final question: so where have all the merrymakers gone?

Where, indeed! I think I saw them heading to your mom’s house...

Thanks, Sean!

This interview originally appeared in Mundane Sounds on October 13, 2005

Labels: Harvey Danger, Vintage Interviews

posted by joseph kyle @ 9:29 AM 0 comments

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