==== ISSUE 151 ==== CONSUMABLE 5 YEARS! == [August 25, 1998] Editor: Bob Gajarsky E-mail: editor@consumableonline.com Sr. Correspondents: Daniel Aloi, Joann Ball, Bill Holmes, Tim Kennedy, Reto Koradi, David Landgren, Sean Eric McGill, Tim Mohr, Al Muzer, Joe Silva, Lang Whitaker Correspondents: Tracey Bleile, Lee Graham Bridges, Scott Byron, Jason Cahill, Patrick Carmosino, Krisjanis Gale, Emma Green, Paul Hanson, Chris Hill, Eric Hsu, Tim Hulsizer, Franklin Johnson, Robin Lapid, Linda Scott, Scott Slonaker, Chelsea Spear, Simon Speichert, Jon Steltenpohl, Simon West Technical Staff: Chris Candreva, Dave Pirmann Also Contributing: Dan Enright, Nancy Price Address all comments to staff@consumableonline.com ; subscription information is given at the end of this issue. ================================================================== All articles in Consumable remain (C) copyright their author(s). Permission for re-publication in any form must be obtained from the editor. ================================================================== .------------. | Contents | `------------' EDITORS'S NOTES - CONSUMABLE FIVE YEAR ANNIVERSARY ISSUE CONCERT/ALBUM REVIEWS: Oasis - Jeremy Ashcroft, Bob Gajarsky INTERVIEW: Radiohead - Nancy Price REVIEW: Verve - Tracey Bleile INTERVIEW: Ben Folds Five - Joe Silva, Lang Whitaker CONCERT REVIEW: Beastie Boys in Scotland - Robin Lapid INTERVIEW: Dave Matthews Band - Dan Enright REVIEW: His Boy Elroy - Bob Gajarsky INTERVIEW: Squirrel Nut Zippers - Dan Engith, Joe Silva --- EDITOR'S NOTES ON OUR FIVE YEAR ANNIVERSARY In 1993, a small print magazine out of Central Jersey named Consumable had started its publication run, of what would subsequently be only two issues. At that time, it was decided to take Consumable from a print version to both a print and online version. Thus, a pioneering action - which countless 'mainstream' music publications would eventually follow - was born. Celebrating its five year anniversary, Consumable Online is the Internet's oldest music reviews publication. Initially distributed as reviews were submitted (in a 'mailing list' fashion), Consumable eventually became a regular scheduled event, now being published approximately 35 times/year. Since those beginnings, Consumable has grown to a staff of more than 30 international writers, not dedicated to the almighty buck, but spreading the word on good music. By limiting each issue to 12 or so reviews and interviews, we may omit many bands who we could provide 'fluff' pieces to - and provide filler for their clip file - but we'd rather stick to the key artists who we like, or who we feel our subscribers would like. It's the quality of these reviews that has earned us the respect of our peers, including accolades such as 'the no-frills alternative music authority packed with good writing' (Netguide) and 'excellent, smart and chock-full of useful stuff' (Internet Underground). Oasis' rise and success has closely paralleled that of Consumable. We were the first non-daily American publication to review their first American concert, and subsequent reviews of other concerts, singles, and debut album provided readers with the most significant band to come out of Britain in many years. And while British press were initially dismissing Oasis second album, and America was wondering what the hype was about, our synopsis of _Morning Glory_ perfectly hit the nail on the head... Consumable readers were able to read interviews with Dave Matthews and Squirrel Nut Zippers before their star had fully ascended, and interviews with bands such as XTC, Radiohead, Manic Street Preachers, offered insights into what made those bands tick, and sometimes, foreshadowing future events. But interviews are only one small part of Consumable. The main focus of each issue is reviews of today and tomorrow's music, whether it be Jon Steltenpohl highlighting attempts to bring Scandanavian and Swedish music to America, Tim Kennedy providing us with several 'first in America' reviews, Sean McGill's controversial review of gangsta rap or Robin Lapid's 1998 Beastie Boys concert review (from Scotland), our readers can always expect to get a straightforward assessment of an album before plunking down their hard earned cash at the record store. The first review to appear in Consumable Online, a Seattle artist named Johnny Fly (with a group called His Boy Elroy), is also included here. Fly may have disappeared, but the review hasn't. It would have been so much more glamorous to have the first review be of a bigger name artist, but in some ways, it's appropriate that the album never made any mainstream waves. So, in conclusion, thanks for the first five years of Consumable Online. Despite no advertisement, or corporate backing, we've managed to continue growing by word of mouth. Thanks to all the staffers, past, present, and future who have given far too much of themselves in order to ensure that the original inspiration for Consumable Online would continue. And, finally, thanks to our loyal readers - who have provided invaluable support - without you, it just wouldn't be worth it. This special five year look back is to all of you. Here's to another five... - Bob Gajarsky, Editor In Chief --- CONCERT REVIEW: Oasis, New Music Seminar, New York 1994 - Bob Gajarsky The band being hyped as the new Suede (or new Smiths) out of England, Oasis, also played live. Despite being new to America, the band appeared to be lackluster and tired. Was it disgust at the primarily American audience not getting "into" the music? It's hard to say, although there were more than a few people wearing Oasis shirts, and a few people with English accents were present at the show. The show closed with a long version of the Beatles song, "I Am The Walrus". They've been recently signed here in the States (I believe to Sony, although I'm not positive - in the U.K., they are on Creation Records), in the hopes that the Manchester-type sound can catapult them to the top of the modern rock charts, a la the Stone Roses or Charlatans, in a time that is much more receptive to this format. A couple singles have been released in the U.K., including one which seems to take a bit from the 1970's song, "I'd Like To Teach The World To Sing", used for a Coca Cola jingle ("I'd like to buy the world a coke..."), "Shakermaker". Concert Review - Oasis Across the Ocean August 31, United Kingdom - Jeremy Ashcroft / Bob Gajarsky The evening's big surprise was the unannounced guest - good old "Evil Dildo" himself - Evan Dando. He just came on solo with his guitar and sang a few songs. The audience seemed to enjoy it and there was a really nice moment when a fan from the audience got up onstage and sang harmony vocals on one song! Evan was clearly surprised and delighted and the crowd really cheered on their home-boy. At the end of the set - which was only about 20-minutes long - an announcement came over the PA to the effect that if you wanted to hear more of Evan, he promised to play outside the stage door when the bars had shut at midnight. (I was still inside at the time, so I can't tell you if he followed up his promise.) During his set myself and friends were watching from a gallery overlooking the stage. Immediately behind me were Oasis themselves, chatting and watching. They also had a professional standard camcorder and were filming the set - later another camera was brought out to film the entire Oasis set. I overheard Liam saying that he'd been to this venue before, as a member of the audience (it's just about 45-miles from Manchester). Before Oasis came on stage, the DJ was playing a lot of Manchester bands - I think The Charlatans were playing as the band took the stage. "That's enough of that shite!" was how the band introduced themselves! The opener, "Rock and Roll Star", was one of my favourite songs of the evening - it was more of an atmospheric song than the singles. The audience enjoyed themselves throughout, which is more than you can say for the band if their expressions were to be believed. I found that to be really offputting, to see a band playing and not even look like they're enjoying the music themselves. Just three songs into the set and there was potential trouble; I didn't even see anything being thrown, but Liam singled out someone in the audience and said that he didn't like having things thrown at him and that if they were going to do that he'd like them to come on stage "so I can slap you in front of everyone". They also showed that they weren't a particularly friendly band a bit later. At one point Evan Dando came dancing on stage with a young girl he'd been hanging around with that night. As they were spinning around enjoying themselves, one of Oasis security came from the side of the stage and bounced them off! They played all their hits, which were great, but the whole show lasted just 60-minutes. They closed with their now standard "I Am The Walrus". That was great - just the idea of doing a heavy-metal version (the intro at least) was great and the extended playout set up a great groove. The only thing that spoiled it for me were the vocals... he went from line to line without any gaps, more like a recitation than with any feeling (even it he was trying to sound deadpan, it didn't quite work). Still great though. The bottom-line of a good concert is "Would I go again?" And, in this case, the answer is a resounding yes. Fast forward to late October, Hoboken, New Jersey... Oasis is concluding their brief United States tour at the famous Maxwell's. The fire code at Maxwell's is 125, but there are easily 200 people packed tightly in the club; rumor has it that if you slipped the doorman $25, you could get in once the show was "sold out". Don't believe the hype that it's all teens into Oasis - this show was packed with many people in their late 20s and early 30s catching up with one of the hottest new bands of the year. Oasis didn't disappoint. From "Rock and Roll Star" to the concluding "I Am The Walrus", the band sounded *perfect*. The acoustics at Maxwell's leave a lot to be desired, but it was overcome by a brilliant performance. Again, the band didn't move around - not like they had room to - but lead singer Liam Gallagher explains, "I've got no time for jumping about, do I? I'm too busy singing the songs." His brother Noel chimes in, in response to some critics questioning the band's arrogance, "We wouldn't dare go on stage and prance around and preach to the audience." There was a mosh pit, too. Well - it was about 10 losers who felt the need to slam to each song. The audience did a good job of tossing elbows (and throwing down) the moshers, but the small crowd irritated Liam. He yelled, to a standing ovation, "Hey, Elvis! Why don't you stop running into these people and let them enjoy the show?", after one of the songs. The band is back in England and "Supersonic" is finally receiving well-deserved airplay (top 15 on Billboard's Modern Rock Charts). But, rather than lament missing one of the U.K.'s top exports, check out the debut _Definitely Maybe_. Don't take my word for it - your ears will do the talking for you. REVIEW: Oasis, _(What's The Story) Morning Glory_ (Epic) - Bob Gajarsky When Oasis released their debut CD last year, _Definitely Maybe_, amidst brotherly fighting, pissing off many of the "business" people associated with the band, and in general being hyped in the UK from here to the Mohave, I was certain that Oasis would be a one album wonder. Well, it's nearly one year after that release, more than ten strong B-sides later, and their second album, _(What's The Story) Morning Glory_ has completely proven me wrong. It could be mentioned that the Gallagher brothers still wear their late 1960's (see: Beatles) influences on their sleeve, but also show a little more with their nicking of the Gary Glitter track "Hello, Hello, I'm Back Again" on the opening track "Hello". Just as "Rock And Roll Star" was the perfect opening to _Maybe_ with its proclamation that Liam was, already a star, "Hello", via Gary Glitter, lets the listener know that the band is back. And, yes, the Beatles influence is still prominent; "She's Electric" starts with a snippet from "With A Little Help From My Friends" and ends with the Billy Shears fade from "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band". "Don't Look Back In Anger" opens with a "Let It Be" piano intro then launches into a powerful piece which evokes a vision of an unmade video, with 20,000 people waving their hands while Liam Gallagher warns "Please don't put your life in the hands / of a rock and roll band / who'll throw it all away". These influences, however, aren't ripped off, but fully integrated into a blend which will make critics 20 years from now talk about the "Oasis sound". "Wonderwall" is "Live Forever", part 2, and will probably be the band's American huge modern rock hit. And, the UK single "Roll With It" actually comes off as a modern rock-by-numbers which loses its flavor in several listens. Don't judge Oasis off their slower commercial tracks, however - it would be throwing away the rest of today's best rock and roll band. The closer, "Champagne Supernova", brings in Paul Weller on an 8 minute epic jaunt that could just be the song of a new generation. The verdict is in, and _(What's The Story) Morning Glory?_ is a masterpiece from start to finish. Oasis is to the 1990's what R.E.M. was to modern rock in the 1980's - definitely brilliant. --- INTERVIEW: Radiohead - Nancy Price Radiohead's Jonny Greenwood - he of the manic, talking guitar - is standing in the lobby as I arrive at the trendy San Francisco hotel where the band is staying. Alas, Jonny isn't waiting for me, and Ed O'Brien, Radiohead's other able guitarist and my intended interview subject, is still asleep. Somewhere between San Francisco and Capitol's offices in New York, wires were crossed, and I got there an hour earlier than expected. "He's just going to take a shower and will be right down," their publicist apologizes. Unexpected wakeup calls aside, things are looking good for Radiohead. Their third LP, _OK Computer_ , debuted at number 21 in the US and easily reached the top of the charts in their native Britain. O'Brien and Jonny Greenwood, together with Jonny's brother Colin on bass, Phil Selway behind the drums and the owner of the breathtakingly lovely vocal contortions - singer/guitarist Thom Yorke - are Radiohead. The group (who don't consider themselves part of the 'Britpop' movement), has been playing sold-out shows across America, performing at venues with names including words like Theatre, Ballroom and Arena: certainly a step up from the club tours of the not-too-distant past. This band has been busy this last year: recording, touring, promoting, playing for Tibetan Freedom, and getting favorable attention from the press and an ever-increasing legion of fans. Even before the July first stateside release of the album, the band was getting the kind of attention usually reserved for music legends, fashion designers, and boxers. Face it: when you can count Madonna, Marilyn Manson, Sheryl Crow and members of U2, REM, Oasis and Blur among your fans, you're either doing something right or something revolutionary... or, in the case of Radiohead, very probably both. At the Warfield Theatre in San Francisco, their tight twenty-two-song set (including four songs over three encores), included every track from _OK Computer_, half of _The Bends_, a lone number from their debut, _Pablo Honey_, and one B-side for the devout. The band's success would seem to be a natural result of their clear passion for the music, an obvious and mutual creative respect, and the fact that, well, they seem to be having a good time just being Radiohead. But was recording the songs as much fun as playing them in front of an audience? O'Brien smiles, 'We did kind of go a bit stir crazy recording _OK Computer_, when we were in Bath at Jane Seymour's house, but we had to go through that. We got to Christmas of '96, and we'd been kind of experimenting. The only thing we'd finished was "Exit Music," because that had to go to _Romeo and Juliet_ for the film. We had started about fourteen or fifteen songs, and it was then that we said, 'Right, we're going to have to start finishing stuff off.' What we'd do is half-finish fourteen songs, and then go on to a new one. We get bored very very quickly. So, by Christmas, it was basically that we wanted an album out by the summer, and we had to finish it off.' Well-versed in the fine art of procrastination, I imagine it was difficult to complete those songs. Nodding a deep yes, O'Brien says, 'It's all the little bits. We tracked a lot of this album live.' He pauses and searches the air for an analogy, 'It would be like building a kitchen. It's quite easy to get all the wood in and see something fairly immediate - but all those little joints and the hinges, and making sure the drawers and the cupboards open properly, and fixing all the little things - that's what takes a really long time. Smoothing down the edges. It's exactly the same when making a record. And mixing... mixing is kind of like the French polishing. It was fairly traumatic at times, because there's so much going on.' Radiohead's career development has been upward, if not smooth, since their days playing around Oxford as a band called On A Friday. Such progress comes directly from their unwavering dedication to the cause. O'Brien reckons they've all known since their mid-teens that they wanted to play together. 'There was never any question that we weren't going to do it, really, in terms of like make the effort to do it.' Although the band was on hold during their college years - reforming only during school breaks - they maintained that group cohesion, 'and [after] Thom finished college, we were signed in about four or five months. Looking back on it, what was amazing was the commitment. Ten years ago, we talked about it. We knew we wanted to do this - there was never any question.' As most of the members are in their late twenties, it's been nearly half a lifetime since the band's humble beginnings. Has the success they've finally achieved with the release of _OK Computer_ seemed a long time coming? 'It's been fine. You know, the big thing was signing at the end of '91, then in '92 touring around in a rusty white van. It was great to do small shows, opening up for people. 1993 - the first half of the year was really the same as '92, then of course "Creep" erupted, and we came over here,' recalls O'Brien. ' "Creep" was not what we expected. We all thought [the band's progress] would be slow - we didn't want any kind of big explosion. We wanted to, each time you do a gig, a few more people come along, word of mouth spreads, make a better record...' But are they satisfied? 'Yeah, now,' he concedes. 'We played the Warfield in San Francisco, we played the Wiltern in Los Angeles. We've played clubs, and they were great, but we've done three [U.S.] tours of clubs and you get a bit sick of them. It sounds better in these [larger] places. It looks amazing - you look out from the stage and there's a balcony, and it's very inspiring.' Of course, as the band's fanbase grows, they'll start to play larger venues. 'Obviously when you get great theaters, it would be lovely to do a residency for three nights, but, America is such a huge country that you wouldn't have the luxury of that. If you've got one night, you don't want people to not get in. We've done that where we played at a way way smaller venue than we should have.' On the other end of the spectrum, does he see an arena tour in the band's future? 'No, not really... we've never thought about it. There's more talk about it around us - people speculating - particularly in Britain. They all think we're going to be the next stadium band. Take U2 and REM's baton,' he scoffs. 'If it happens, it happens, but the only way it will happen is if we're comfortable with that... which we're not at the moment. And as long as the show's not compromised.' O'Brien explains, 'I know it's possible to do amazing shows: I saw the U2 Pop-Mart thing. There's no way you could do that inside - it's phenomenal. It was very moving, it was very personal at times, and it was extravagant and over the top. And it was fantastic. *That's* the way to do those things.' Radiohead are one of a handful of bands who clearly seem to be plugged into the nineties, and even own their namesake domains (radiohead.com and, for Europe, radiohead.co.uk). The website itself is certainly unique with its spartan content. "Stanley Donwood does the website and does the artwork with Thom," explains O'Brien. 'We just didn't want to do one of those websites that is basically like `here's a picture of the band, here's the band on the set of their latest video, you can buy the video, you can buy the new single out now.' We wanted something that provoked a bit more of a reaction - you either love it or hate it. People think it's interesting... and then other people say "why can't I get the chords to "Creep?" ' O'Brien was unaware that the website seems to be having a bit of trouble, and, for the past couple months has included the message, "This site, embarrassingly listed as the official Radiohead site, has been left in a state of confusion by Stanley Donwood, who has vanished." Although the band may not visit their virtual home too often, they are, at least, computer literate. "Oh, completely - yeah. Totally. Colin and Thom have got Powerbooks out on the road, Jonny's going to buy a Powerbook." So do they do much websurfing? "Yeah," O'Brien replies, "I find it so boring, though. I personally feel the best thing about the internet is the text. The graphics - it takes so bloody long to download anything. The text is the stuff that interests me." (His insistence upon his interest only in the text is intriguing, as I made no effort to steer the conversation in that direction. A couple days later, however, I learn from a writer from Rolling Stone Online that she initially had an interview scheduled with O'Brien to discuss sex-related websites... but the interview was canceled without explanation.) O'Brien does, however, attest to the power of the web. "When we're in the studio - the day after we tracked the songs, there was a website saying the songs we were recording. We have no idea - *no idea* - how they got the names of the songs. Okay, some of them we played live, some of them we haven't. There's no way. Stuff that had been written the night before, been tracked. Really weird. I just have got a feeling that one of the others in the band is going onto the computer about three in the morning and being a mole... and that's cool, that's fine." There's certainly a major demand for news about the band in the online world. Radiohead's internet devotees span the globe - in fact, the UBL (Ultimate Band List) mentions more than seventy sites dedicated to the band, and their high-volume mailing list has over four hundred members... well, four hundred, and, on occasion, another five. O'Brien smiles, "When we were in the studio, we'd occasionally go in on that. They wouldn't believe who we were. They told us to get off." For real-time online interaction, fans will pretty much have to wait for one of the numerous online chats featuring the band, or, as the case may be, the band minus O'Brien: "I always avoid [chats]. I've done it once. I'm not that interested at all. You've always got some person regulating it, and I don't want to have just the `good' questions. I want to see what else is being said, and it's really frustrating to have that `we can't show the band *that* question.' If someone says `you guys, you suck, I hate your album' I want to retort, I want to respond to that." Personally, his favorite aspects of Internet connectivity vary. On the web, he admits to liking "things like typing in a word and seeing where it gets you. I'm also a big soccer fan - Manchester United - so I check out the MU sites, and there are a lot." And though he has a Mac at home, "on the road, I can't get any of the world wide web. I do e-mail with a palmtop - you can get text only." The written word - that text - again is apparently where his passion lies. "I love e-mail, e-mail is brilliant. It changes the way we talk. Suddenly, you're getting letters on the road. Contact, rather than you sending and it being one way the whole time." Contact with home and the outside world in general would be vital for anyone on the road, holed up with other band members and crew for sometimes months on end. Still, even when they're back home, it sounds like they just can't be apart for too long. "We all live in Oxford. If we're back for months, we see other friends and chill out, and then by the second week, we're phoning one another up, saying `what are you doing?'" That honest, undiluted friendship is the foundation upon which Radiohead have built their remarkable career. It is also what motivates them to move forward. Of the future, O'Brien says he sees the band's goal as, "fairly simply, to continue making good and better records. And remain friends, really. Remain friends and remain human beings." A moment's pause, then he clarifies, "If for one moment I believed that me and the band as a whole had become rock and roll casualties who don't get on, who become twisted... you see a lot of these old rock and rollers - unwilling to take the rough, having had the smooth... then I wouldn't carry on. I'm not interested in compromising our characters or becoming rock and roll assholes - not interested in that at all." --- REVIEW: The Verve, _Urban Hymns_ (Virgin) - Tracey Bleile The music industry is currently fighting off one of its more massive slumps and many setbacks in the quest to not only find acts that have the talent to create great music, but to have it happen on a regular basis ever after. It is at least a clear turn for the good when a band that broke up finds their way back together stronger than ever, and sends out a release that is clearly a step forward while also packing an emotional wallop - it bodes well for everyone involved. The success-cut-short story of Britain's premiere beautiful noise/shoegazers The Verve, was nothing short of a tragedy when they crashed and burned in late 1995, quitting right in the middle of their tour for _Northern Soul_ . Melodramatic? Maybe. Cliched? Probably. But even the most cynical think-they've-heard-it-all types will find it difficult to not be moved by the Verve's interpretation of what it's like to re-join life in progress. With the release of _Urban Hymns_ - I dare say the Verve sound almost...happy? Well, Richard Ashcroft and Nick McCabe have mended their ways and their relationship, Simon Jones and Peter Salisbury are still the thunder and lightning of the storm, and they've added a second guitarist, Simon Tong. So maybe they aren't exactly leaping up and down, but after the overweening sadness of _Northern_ , _Urban Hymns_ feels like their way of giving thanks for just being alive. From the opening swells of sonic strings and electronic bird trills in the lead track/first single "Bitter Sweet Symphony" , you gain an immediate sense that dealing with the experiences of real life, both good and painful, is better than the agony and lack of control that drugs only sharpen. Ashcroft's vocals have moved away from the keening warble so prevalent on previous releases, and have extended into a gentle Neil Finn/Crowded House tenor on many of the tracks. Even when he moves into the higher ranges, it doesn't seem so painful - just damn powerful. The second single, an acoustic and simple testament to getting sober, "The Drugs Don't Work" , says it all. _Urban Hymns_ is another lengthy effort, over 75 minutes (which includes hidden tracks), but there's a lot more going on than their trademark ethereal painting-with-sounds. Oh, never fear, it's got the known-quantity Verve - great orchestral swellings of keyboards and effects with Ashcroft rising and falling over the melody, which are consistent with what drew people to the band in the first place. What gives this release validity are the songs that move far away from this norm. Their worth is proved with the experimentation of everything from a trippy, glammy groove in "The Rolling People" which, even though a seven minute song, flows and pounds with all the insistence and energy of a high tide - to the bouncy staccato backbone of "This Time" . The Verve then proceeds to take on the Brit-pop sound currently being defined by certain bands who shall remain nameless (due to far too much publicity as it is), and stamps their own distinctive emotion all over the second half of the disc, and leave you stunned with their ability to do so much with so little. To this end, the naked longing in a string of moody, simply arranged songs with much toned-down guitars finds that they can communicate their feelings just as well as when they deliver one of their big, sweeping pieces. From "Space and Time" (if I had a vote, I'd say make this a single) to "Lucky Man" , Ashcroft does indeed sound like a supplicant giving thanks to the higher power guiding him. In love and in music, he has found his calling. The closing track "Come On" blends a little bit of the old and new, psychedelic and heavy and echoey and swoony - to Ashcroft's voice soaring and beckoning from above, and then barking out defiantly 'Fuck you!', railing against whatever might hold him down. Given the soundtrack feel of this disc, it is fitting that it is the end credits. Anger, love, passion, hope, and for once, a sense of purpose, even if you know life ain't so great all the time. How's that for a real life happy ending? --- INTERVIEW: Ben Folds Five (1996) - Joe Silva There's really no way that you can think of the piano as one of pop's truly maligned instruments. Now the bassoon; that's an entirely different matter. When was the last time you heard the grandaddy woodwind coming to the fore of a chart topper? Motown and Christmas 1970 are the only clues I can offer without giving it away entirely. But while there was much keyboard figuring into rock's nascent moments, it's been backhanded and relegated to a second class status ever since. Ergo, all the fuss afforded the Ben Fold's Five since the release of their self titled debut last year. Forget Keith Emerson, forget the former Mr. Christie Brinkley, and for the moment you can put aside Elton as well. So fervent was the noise that the North Carolina trio was eventually asked to offset the power chords reigning over Lolla-Metallica's mainstage this year and give the indie kids something to gawk at on stage B. While en route to one of those aforementioned gigs, Ben Folds stepped out of the confines of their stylish Ryder rental and phoned in from a truck stop for the following: Consumable: Where you guys approached for the second stage thing or did you want to be on it in particular? Ben Folds Five: Well I think probably everybody want to be on it. I'm not sure how it came about, but I think we were asked to do it. Based on our positioning on the second stage where we're basically opening up for the headliner. I don't think this was one of those things that we got bought on to, but you never know. C: Is it comfortable to do, going from city to city for this type of carnival thing? BF: It's probably not bad. They just tell you when to show up. They've got the piano to deal with stage wise, so we'll probably have to be there before everyone else. C: When I saw you play here, it didn't look like a tremendous piano. I mean, you wouldn't think it would be too difficult to cart around between, say three people. Maybe I'm wrong. BF: It's a thousand pound piano, and that was a big stage with a lot of distance between everybody. I don't know, put that thing in your living room and then check it out (laughs). It's big. C: Since the record came out back in, what, July last year, has the material started to wear thin a bit? BF: The rigor of six nights a week and some of the traveling that we've been doing has made it seem like it wears thin sometimes, but I think we're just in time for the new record. It'll be a relief to play those songs in the middle of a set where people don't know the new stuff. We have hit that dirged out, shitty feeling very much. A couple of times. Right now we're learning how to hold the songs back and that may sound stupid, but we're really excited about it. We're not playing too fast all of sudden. C: You have stuff done up for the next record already? BF: Yeah, I was just in the back of the Ryder on the couch going through the number of possible songs. It's somewhere around thirty solid, good starts. C: And you've gen'd all that stuff up while traveling? BF: A lot of it. I'm a real slow writer. I don't really write that much. You know, I'll have an idea and three or four years later, it's kind of mulled over in my head and turned into something else. In fact one of the songs from the first album, "Video", was for the most part finished when I was in high school. It just kind of got the final touch on it right before we [recorded]. So it's not like I've been slaving over for ten years (laughs)! About half of what I'm walking on now, the seeds are a year or so ago. C: Are you guys sticking with Caroline Records for the next one? BF: No, we signed with Epic/550 a few months after the record came out. C: Was there any reason in particular? Was this a distribution type thing? BF: Well there was a lot of reasons, but it basically came down to is with the kind of music we're making and the direction we're going, it wasn't going to remain an honest situation to remain with a label whose specialty is another kind of music. For the first album I think it was an interesting thing that we barely lapped over enough into the indie world by the nature of what we were doing - it had some hint of rebellion in there. And for them, they're an indie that goes just enough into the side of pop music to where it worked out. But beyond that, they're a grass roots organization and if we write hit songs, it's hard for them to be hits. I'm sure they would like to do that, but honestly, I think what they're good at is discovering really cool stuff and making it work in a real musical grass roots way. If we had been on a major label, we would have been screwed. Not screwed by the label, but screwed by circumstances. We wouldn't have had to fight up from nothing like we had to and that gives you a lot of stamina. C: Is it getting to be a bit of a drag having to continually talk about why your playing the piano and not a guitar? BF: Nah, because I'm happy that they're noticing that and it's setting us apart. We knew that was going to be the case when we started. We could only hope that we would have some kind of distinction. Think of how many bands are out there. I mean we don't want to wear make up to stand out. So the piano is a very dignified way of standing out in the crowd. I don't mind talking about the piano because I play it all the time. C: I thought it was fun seeing the fair amount of abuse you give it during a performance like lying on your back and launching the stool at the keys. BF: That was in lieu of diving into it. I had a broken rib and I was wheezing through the gig. And when it was over I was in a funny mood and I wanted to dive into it, which I sometimes do, but I was hurting too bad. C: You broke a rib? BF: Yeah, I broke it doing the video [for the single "Uncle Walter" ]. I dove off a box onto Darren [Jesse, drummer] and he wasn't ready for me and I landed my full weight on his knee. C: Are you still doing the "Video Killed the Radio Star" cover? I was amazed at how people just lost their minds over it. BF: Actually we're sort of getting ready to retire that. We chose that song because there was a compilation album coming out from Elektra of well known bands doing covers of one hit wonders. Elektra just gives you a catalogue to chose from and there's thousands of these one hit wonder songs. You know they're all funny for a second, but then you think "Fuck, this is a terrible song." Because with most one hit wonders, truth is, they're horrible songs. This song was one that once you get below the campy stuff, it really has a cool sentiment to it and a lot of energy. The original's not that energetic, and we put it in people's faces a little more and they realize how much they really like it, because it's a really good song. C: Have you had any odd reactions from playing a song like "Underground" which seems like a poke in the ribs at indie culture, in front of this mass of alternative fans. BF: It's like self-deprecation kinda. If you were like a Ray Stevens or something singing about [inserts twangy vocal here] 'them damn kids today..', it obviously comes from an outside point of view. But this is so obviously from within. Besides, people love making fun of themselves anyway. It's kind of like being a hipster, scenester type in a small town and everyone's walking around going 'There's a couple of hipsters, they know what's going on.' But the truth is they're looking at you saying the same thing if your onto the same vibe. It's been cool to be cool for too long now and now it's cool not to be cool. INTERVIEW: Ben Folds Five (1997) - Lang Whitaker With his scrawny legs scissored wide open and all of his 130 pounds balanced precariously on a teetering drum stool, Ben Folds bobs up and down while his hands furiously massage the 88 keys stretched before him. His face fixed with an open-mouthed gape, Folds leans back from the piano while bassist Robert Sledge and drummer Darren Jesse show no mercy to their respective instruments. Folds delivers alternating forearm shivers and foot stomps to the ivory, as the crowd starts singing complicated doo-wop harmonies along with Sledge and Jesse. In the midst of the madness, Folds swivels to his right and gives a goofy, slap-happy grin to the audience, who dutifully erupt in appreciation. This moment of Zen is immediately interupted by Sledge, who has unstrapped his bass and laid it across the closed lid of Folds' baby grand. Unplugging the instrument, Sledge gently touches the live-wire in his hands directly to the cardioid pick-ups on the bass. An ungodly bassified belching noise loud enough to restore Helen Keller's hearing shudders the venue. Pleased, Sledge begins tapping out a funk inflected rhythm that sounds like a Morse Code call for help. A smiling Jesse picks up the beat on the drums and runs with it. Not wanting to be left out, Folds abandons his kung-fu playing style, rips his microphone from the mike stand, and shoves it deep inside the piano's lid. By scraping the mike back and forth across the metal strings of the piano, Folds replicates a record scratching; the D.J. in this junkyard rap band. Listening to the bombastic sound generated by the three-piece band, you're harkened back to the days when Elton John used to actually sing fast songs. If piano rock has indeed returned, Ben Folds Five is riding shotgun. BF5's bizarre yet melodic mix of show tunes and punk rock blends together surprisingly well, possibly something like George Gershwin would have sounded like if he'd grown up with a Marshall stack. BF5's explosive sound bounced them out of the Chapel Hill, North Carolina scene where they began, on to Caroline, and eventuaally snagged them a major label deal with Sony/550 Music. Their first release with Sony, last year's clevely titled _Whatever And Ever Amen_ , has done very well in the states, and even better in, strangely enough, Japan and England. During a recent respite from shooting a video for their newest single, "Brick," in Beverly Hills, BF5 bass player Sledge checked in with Consumable while weighing options on an off day in L.A. "I thought about going to Disneyland or the Universal Studios Tour," said Sledge, "but I've got this amazing hotel room, and it's got a stereo in it with auxilliary inputs. That means musicians can totally screw up a stereo at that point. So, I'm doing that today." After spending the greater part of the last two years on the road, the BF5 live experience has grown tighter than Richard Simmons' perm. According to bassist Sledge, "We're trying to be big, musical, and entertaining, and entertain ourselves. We have this problem where we keep trying to make ourselves more and more aggressive and more and more large the more we play, because we're trying to stay interesting to ourselves. So, people who saw us last year will come back now and see a new show, and they'll be floored. They're like 'Oh my God! You guys are like...devils now!', because we haven't stopped touring. We've kept working on it, and so it's just gotten really out of hand." The scary part of all of this is that there are still territories uncharted by BF5. Part of this past summer was spent touring with a string section, which Sledge really enjoyed. "It was really, really interesting to have a string section on tour with you. Everything has to be perfect. String players are really high strung," Sledge puns, "and they live in string player world. They try to really relate and they try to do all these things, but at the end of the day, I grew up learning Led Zeppelin songs, and they grew up learning Mozart. But, we did really come together on a lot of things, and it was really gigantic and a lot of fun." A lot of fun is obviously the driving force behind BF5. No matter where they take their self-proclaimed "Punk rock for sissies", good times and strange situations find them, even in the land down under - Australia. "We were on this TV show called 'The Mid-Day Show'. When you go to a foreign country, you have no expectations at all- you don't know what it's going to be. So we get (to 'The Mid-Day Show'), we do the soundcheck, and everything's cool. There's a bunch of thirty-something aged people walking around, doing cables, monitors, setting up the lights. Then they drew the curtains for the show and said (fake announcer voice) "Ladies and Gentlemen, Ben Folds Five!!", and everybody in the audience was over 50 years old!" 'So, we get up there and we're doing "One Angry Dwarf (and 200 Solemn Faces)", and we're raising hell. The only way we really know how to play that song is to just go for it. And the way we end that song, is usually Ben picks up the stool that he's sitting on, and the final resolve of the song is him smashing the keys with the stool.' "Well, Ben picked up the drum stool and tossed it into the piano. We ended the song and felt really happy. The crowd goes wild, because they've never seen anything like that in their life." "The show goes out live on Australian TV, and so when they cut to a commercial, the Australian band director-guy (Jeff Harvey) comes up and he goes (in Aussie accent) 'You assholes; damn Americans. That's my piano, you know?' He was tearing us a new asshole! You would not believe how upset this guy was! He was just going on and on. Ben just kind of walked away and said 'Cool man...'. And then the guy starts cussin' at me, and I wouldn't listen to him, and he cussed our sound guy, and he wouldn't listen to him. "And then he gets back from commercial, and he had them replay Ben throwing the stool, and he goes on and on about how 'musical instruments shouldn't be treated that way...there's 40,000 Australian bands who would love to be on...I don't know why we had this band on...there's nothing musical about them'...(starts laughing hysterically)...it was awful!! I mean, it was amazing for us..." And therein lies the attraction- three guys who call themselves five ("We liked the alliteration of Ben Folds Five," said Ben) and actually enjoy getting cussed out on live TV by Australian band leaders. For those of you under BF5's spell, look towards January, 1998 for a compilation release of B-sides and live tracks (through Caroline), which Sledge says will also include a few covers. Tie down your piano stools, Ben Folds Five is coming on strong. --- CONCERT REVIEW: Beastie Boys, T in the Park Festival, Scotland - Robin Lapid Have you ever been to an outdoor festival -- in the summer, mind you -- where the rain pounds on you relentlessly and you slosh around in mud for 10 to 48 hours? Apparently this is de rigueur in England. Unfortunately, being from sunny California, I wasn't quite prepared for Scotland's cold and wet welcome at this year's Tennants in the Park Festival in Kinross. About ready to ditch the bands and prevent hypothermia, I resolutely decided to stick around for the Beastie Boys' 9 p.m. set. Thank goodness I did. Dressed strangely, albeit somewhat appropriately, in lab coats and knee-high rain boots, the three MC's, along with DJ MixMaster Mike of the Invisibl Skratch Picklz and old friend "Money Mark" Nishita on keyboards, delivered old-skool flava with new-skool vibes. Apart from headliners Pulp, this was probably the most anticipated set of the day, considering the four-year wait for the Beasties' newest album, _Hello Nasty_. That considered, the performance was loose but fun, and showed clear signs that the now-thirtysomething trio are still getting settled into playing live again. AdRock, Mike D, and MC Adam Yauch set it all off with "Shake Your Rump" from second-album masterpiece _Paul's Boutique_. The hyper-raps on this track felt slightly neutralized by MixMaster Mike's super-scratching, but the playful vibe still won out, and it's a treat to hear the old-skool roots take over from _Ill Communication_'s less rap-heavy fare. If you weren't jumping and cheering along at the opening lines of this track, you would be for the rest of the set -- not just because of the crowd's energy, but also so you didn't sink into the mud. Spurred on by the crowd's collective jump-start into the festival spirit, they showed off their stop-action robotic moves and ran through a bunch of Nasty tracks as well as greatest hits, including "So Whatcha Want," "Root Down," "Super Disco Breakin'," and "Intergalactic." From the between-set banter (including a lot of shout-outs to nonviolence and world peace), the setlist and the vibe seemed pretty flexible. "Yo, what song we doin' next?" asks MCA as the boys take an impromptu vote amongst themselves. AdRock shouts out the opening lines to "So Whatcha Want" with gangsta fury only to have everyone abruptly start over. He shrugged his shoulders and explained to the crowd with a smile, "Sorry, sorry...these things happen sometimes, you know." Their punk roots also figured heavily, with the three getting behind their instruments and banging out tracks like "Egg Raid On Mojo" and "Sabotage," of course, which was part of the mix-mastered encore that gamely teased us with samples from "Brass Monkey." Non-song highlights included a birthday cake in the face of their tour manager, and Money Mark ending the set by smashing his keyboards like a banshee. The 3 MC's walked off quietly, with cordial goodbyes and smiles all round. After a good 40-minute workout, the mud in my shoes was now a warm, comforting goo. --- INTERVIEW: Dave Matthews - Dan Enright Dave Matthews and his band appear to have sprung full blown on the US music scene, but the reality is they're another 5 year "overnight" success. If your only contact with the band is the radio/video single, "What Would You Say?" that's currently making the rounds, you aren't getting the whole picture. This multi-talented group successfully mixes jazz, pop, folk, and rock & roll to create a style that is distinctly their own - and much more sophisticated than most of the music that graces the air waves. I caught up with Dave on one of the few days off from his 200 dates-a-year touring schedule. Here's his view of being a musician/songwriter and his first major label release, _Under The Table and Dreaming_. Consumable: What's been the biggest difference between playing for yourself and being a professional musician? Dave Matthews: With the grace of success comes certain obligations. You have to perform, so there's confines on it that can become frustrating. But that's why we have time off. You lose the power to write, which is my real passion. There's not too much inspiration for me to write on the road. The motel rooms and highways haven't got a terrific appeal - but it's still fun. The two hours we spend on stage every day is the thing that keeps it all worthwhile. If it wasn't for that, I certainly wouldn't be traveling around the country. C: It's good you've kept that joy of performing. DM: If we were to play the music exactly the same way and do the same thing every night - the same set - then it could get dull. But we try to keep it fresh because we feel, if we're not having a good time with the music then people aren't going to have a good time. Not really. They might come and say, "Well, that was cool... They were good..." but to really appeal to people, whether it's all of the audience or five people that are really wanting to get thrilled, we can really reach those people only if we're really havin' a good time. C: That connection of the performer with the audience - the pocket - is the real magic of music. DM: Absolutely. It happens in different ways. Sometimes it's because of us and sometimes it's regardless of us. Some nights it's like, "Ok, we've gotta' go out, we gotta' play now..." It's unusual, but if your spirit's down or you're low, the next two hours seem like a real big thing. But there's a thousand or five thousand people that have come to see us and now we have to reach to the deepest quarter in your body, the furthest spot in your soul and find the strength to put on the show they'll feel was more than worth their coming out. That happens some nights, then I think there's that pocket that is more the road, from working and working. We reach that pocket sometimes. But I know the pocket you're talking about, which is almost like being in heaven, when you're not even there. That has happened occasionally, too. C: How does the songwriting and arranging work? DM: On the albums, the way they've been recorded or the songs we've chosen - up to this point I've brought the songs to the band - here's the song, here's the melody, and here's the music - now let's arrange it. What voices do we want, where do we want to put them? Considering every single person a voice, how do we want to treat it? So that becomes a discussion we all have. Now what's happening is there's songs I'm working on, but there's also songs coming out of soundchecks - 'cause we're on the road all the time. We're playing six, seven days a week, so the only time we get to be creative is during soundchecks, if it's long enough. So, what I think is, the next album will reflect more whole-band arrangements and compositions and I'll probably just stay as the sole lyricist. At the beginning it was all songs I've written, then it's sort of been both, and now it's going to lean toward the band doing a lot of it as well. C: Is that due to the band being together so long? DM: Yeah, everyone's roles are very important. These are the same five people that were together the first day we played in the basement. There's no change. It's not me and a band. The name was deceiving more because of the lack of a name than it is a name. C: Well, you're the front man. DM: It's not really how the band works. People who have seen us live see it's definitely a five piece band and it comes across that way. There's no dancing around me, we're all dancing around the same thing. I think a lot of people that come to see us realize, "Whoa! It's not focused on him." The way I see it is, if one of us goes, we have to carefully think about whether or not all of us should go. Every member of the band - whatever it appears to people outside, inside all five of us are equal and have as much right to shout and say, "No! That's wrong..." or "That's right..." or "Change that..." or "That's screwed up... " or "I have something to say now, so I'm going to say it..." Which I think is good. There's a lot more volatility, but that's healthy. C: How do the lyrics develop? DM: My approach to lyrics is, I don't want to be trite - although on occasion triteness is good - but I don't want to be too preachy. That's a little rule I made for myself. I do feel very strongly about things that unify us, fears that unify and separate us, and love people have...everyone likes sugar. I was very lucky in my upbringing to be exposed to really special people and my family had a lot of generous-spirited ideas. I think that it's important of me to try and get that in my lyrics: a sympathy and generosity toward anyone listening, with occasional weird stories or frightening things that people in general might be able to understand. Whether or not they're going to be able to understand exactly what I'm talking about - often it's impossible 'cause I'm not talkin' about exactly anything [chuckle] - but to get a feeling. I'm just trying to not write another "Baby I Love You/Baby Don't Leave Me/Baby You Drove Me Down/Baby I'm Mad At You" or another "I'm Gonna Rock You/I'm Gonna Rock You Down..." just rock & roll. I know there's a lot of lyricists out there that don't. They're people I look at and I think that's admirable. I don't know where my lyrics come from. They're still my most feared part of music because I'm just not confident about them. C: You have to trust they'll come when ya need em. DM: Yeah. I'm afraid of words because they can be misunderstood. In some of the lyrics I'll have changes and other times, exactly what's there is what I sang. Take the song "Pay For What You Get". That one fell out like brick work. "Typical Situation" took more time. That one seemed more difficult. "Dancin' Nancies" wasn't too long, but that also had a lot more lyrics to it than what's on the song. Usually, those edits happened before we got to the studio. C: I thought "What Would You Say" seemed out of place with the rest of the album. Did you include it so RCA would have a single to release? Dave : We didn't do that one with anything in mind. It was a song that [producer] Steve Lillywhite liked, so we did that. I think one of the things that makes it stand out is it's got different instruments on it. The way we approached that song when we were recording it, was very humorously. It's definitely the pop song on the album, which made me reluctant to release it as a single. So we didn't release a single, but they did release that to radio first, so it came across as a single. C: And as a video, right? DM: Yeah. We made that after the album was recorded. It had been chosen as the single for radio, so we just went ahead and made it. C: It doesn't really capture the spirit of the album though... DM: That's why I didn't want to release it. We thought people could hear that and think, "Oh! Well, that's a wacky song." and then assume the rest of the album would be less wacky. It's kind of a trite and joking and mocking of itself, because it's nonsensical. Which is what's happening in the video. What we were kind of shooting at was the emphasis being on the emptiness, with lots of music. I'd love to do that experiment - if you took a really wacked out song and played it over and over again on the radio, it would sail. I always wanted to do that with a song like "Satellite". Check out the Dave Matthews band - they're touring all over the world, and _Under The Table and Dreaming_ is receiving airplay everywhere. --- REVIEW: His Boy Elroy, His Boy Elroy - Bob Gajarsky Seattle, Washington has been the breeding ground to many of the hottest bands around. However, in proving that there are other bands from the Seattle area, His Boy Elroy has taken a decidedly different approach to receiving airplay. Rather than cashing in on the grunge-fad, main man Johnny Fly has produced an album that leans heavily on the psychedelic 90's sound from British artists such as Jesus Jones, E.M.F., and the Soup Dragons to generate a new, catchy sound. The first single from the His Boy Elroy album, "Chains", weaves accessible music with lyrics strife with references to Nancy Friday's classic book of female sexual fantasy, "The Secret Garden". Phil Harding and Ian Curnow, who worked on the recent Jesus Jones album, have remixed "Chains" to bring the most out of the song. In the song, "Fly", His Boy Elroy produces a song that sounds like a combination of George Michael meets "Willie and the Hand Jive". An odd combination, to be sure, but not unlike others on the album. "Free" utilizes a "Theme From Shaft"-style introduction, and "Receiving Me" uses the distorted, jangly guitar sound prominent that brought the Charlatans and Stone Roses fame. The entire album, which also includes potential future singles "Fade To Black" and "Don't Leave Me", doesn't have a weak track from start to finish. Not unlike Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails, Fly has bolstered the group's lineup while on the road. A full fledged band is touring with Fly to help re-create the sound produced in the studio. A summary? The eponymously titled debut is simply one of this year's must-get purchases. --- INTERVIEW: Squirrel Nut Zippers' Tom Maxwell (1995) - Dan Enright For those readers who don't know, the Squirrel Nut Zippers are a seven piece swing jazz band from North Carolina that recently released their debut self titled album on Mammoth Records. In case you wondered, they've borrowed their name from a chewy, peanut-flavored confection made in Massachusetts. While they've been influenced by small jazz "Hot Bands" from the '20s and '30s, don't make the mistake of thinking they're mired in the past. Nothing could be further from the truth. Unleashed by founders Katherine Whalen (banjo, vocals) and James Mathus (guitar, vocals), they've recruited Tom Maxwell (guitar, vocals, percussion), Don Raleigh (string bass), Chris Phillips (drums), Ken Mosher (alto/baritone sax, guitar, vocals) and Stacy Guess (trumpet) to bring evening gown and tuxedo clad dance music to the world. I recently spoke with guitarist and resident musical historian, Tom Maxwell about the bands roots and style. So, without further ado... Consumable: What's the philosophy behind this project? Tom: We're trying to capture emotional content and feeling. I was talking to the bass player before the interview and was reminded of the parable of the blind men and the elephant. And basically, music can serve as the elephant. It's a constant and it's universal, just like human feeling. You can get bound by convention, which will obviously become obsolete as it always does, but music is a constant. That's what we're really interested in. C: The members of the band come from a "college radio/contemporary rock background. What inspired you to pursue this type of music? T: I started listening to this music in '88 when I was playing rock and roll. I picked up Cab Calloway and was blown away! To me, it was rock as much as anything else I heard, except it was a little bit more subtle. It's the difference between real and implied threat. I like Sonic Youth a lot but their threat is real, whereas Cab Calloway singing "You Rascal You" - I just couldn't get enough and started listening to Fats Waller and everything else. When I became friends with Jim and Katherine I found that they liked a lot of that music too. We would get together, have dinner, and play records for each other. C: A music club... T: Oh yeah. It was a blast! So, I don't know. Is that an accurate answer? C: I don't know either.. T: Jim was, "I'm forming a jazz band." I was like, "Terrific, that's great." But we never sit around and discuss authenticity, or what's appropriate and what's not appropriate. We just get together and play. I have a working knowledge of the history of a lot of the small band swing, but most of the people in the band don't. They listen to all kinds of music. We just intuitively know how to make the same sound. C: You're contemporary musicians with a love for this style of music so you're updating it... T: Precisely. Jazz abandoned a lot of the tenets of this kind of music in the '40s and went on and played Bop, that kind of music. This kind of swing was enormously popular for a generation, so I can see that people were ready to try something else. But rock and jazz never went back and picked up on what I think is tremendously fertile ground. This swing we're playing is so natural, such an easy thing to do and in many ways lends itself to whatever you want to do with it. I feel we are picking up a strain someone put down a few years ago. Which is antithetical to the idea of recreating something, or trying to pander to nostalgia. So, yes. That's what we're doing. We're updating it. I think it's as viable right now as it was then. C: And your lyrics are definitely contemporary... T: Yeah. "Danny Diamond" is about a high school transvestite Ken knew. That song is an example of bizarre subject matter and "Plenty More" is... I still don't know how to take that song. I wrote the thing and my friend John wrote the lyrics... I think it can be taken any number of ways. I think most great music has a sense of irony to it. Hopefully we do too and can get that across. C: This album is twelve songs out of how many total in your catalogue? T: Oh gosh, upwards of 40. Since the time we've done this record, we've written enough material for the second. And by the time we get around to recording the second record, we'll probably have written half the material for the next one. We work at a frenetic pace. There are four songwriters in the band so there is never a dearth of material. C: How does the songwriting work? Do you each write complete songs, or do you collaborate...? T: We each bring in a full song. I, or Jimbo, will write a song and lyrics and bring it in... but then the song becomes "zipperized!" So it doesn't do any good to have the thing down in your head. You can have a chord progression worked out and a melody line, sometimes we'll have horn ideas, most of the time we just go, "Play what you want." That's so exciting because you end up with a song you never would have been able to do on your own. C: Everyone owns the song, in a sense... T: And the song will never sound like it does unless the band is playing it. Which is why we decided to split up royalties. The person who wrote the chord progression will get the bulk of it. But the way we're going about it, whoever played on the recording is entitled to a cut, because in many ways they helped bring the song together. I think it's a southern way of doing things. Each individual player is... we leave it up to them as to what they want to play or how they want to interpret the thing. What they want to add to it. And everyone does it well. It's one of the true pleasures of playing in this band. C: I wanted to ask you about your "image"... T: A lot of people assume we have a marketing savvy which we simply do not posses. They're like, "The clothes are important! What about the clothes?" And that's something I wanted to talk about. When I first got into the band, I fucking got a tuxedo, toot-sweet! For a number of reasons. One, I saw pictures of Cab Calloway looking like a million bucks, so why not? Wearin' that white tuxedo with all those paper mache lightning bolts? Who wouldn't want to look like that? I certainly do! The other thing is, I always get nervous and there is a certain ritual to putting on a tuxedo. Mine has become quite elaborate. There's all these studs and buttons and shit you put on. It's a ritual to help assuage my bad nerves. I have found wearing these clothes, most of us dress like this anyway. Jimbo and Stacy, if they didn't have day jobs, would be wearin' a suit all day long. There's a certain respect that is implied when you go on stage wearing, say, tails. Not only are you showing respect for the music, you are showing respect for the people for whom you're playing the music. If you come on starin' at your shoes, ripped hole in your jeans, that's fine. There's a lot of good stuff that has come out of the do-it-yourself attitude in music. But that should not preclude a certain ritualism, or properness, or just wanting to look good. People respond positively to that. C: That's how the original performers of this music dressed. T: And let's face it. When you are a performer, you are just that. You're doing stuff that most people don't want to, or don't feel they can do. You are, by definition, separating yourself from the audience. So any attitude you take is going to be contrived. It's going to be artifice. You can study being nonchalant, wearing torn tennis shoes. I mean a lot of young rock bands have paid the same kind of attention to their clothes and attitude as we do. They simply are trying to look sort of everyday. But they're still doing the exact same thing we are, dressing up in monkey suits. So, to me it's all the same. C: Do you think your costume colors the perception of your performance? T: Sure. And it also enhances the way we play. You just play differently when you're wearing a tuxedo. When you're looking really good, you change somehow. You play a little better, or more respect, or be more attentive to what you're trying to do. INTERVIEW: Squirrel Nut Zippers' Tom Maxwell (1997) - Joe Silva As is right by most Amerindie standards, the stage of Athens, Georgia's 40 Watt Club remains the unadorned pedestal of several generations of DIY rock heroes and associated wannabees. Typically met at all flanks by clutches of boho-baggy clad boys and girls who are usually greeted by the mumbles and indirect glances of those they've come to worship, the welcome cry of "Buh-ruthers and Sistas!!" goes out to meet the throng. In the half-light, evening jackets and strands of faux pearls can be seen muscling for hip swinging room alongside the staid band shirts and random piercings. The Squirrel Nut Zippers take the stage armed with swing, smiles, and a flu bug that's unoticeably tagged a few key members. The horns are phat, the furnace is lit, and the the first congo lines probably ever seen within the club's dingy walls are drawn in the sands of the altera-nation. A day or so later, Tom Maxwell elucidates from a hotel room the satisfaction of the post-inaugural buzz and the stress of being hot. Consumable: Someone at the label (Mammoth) told me you were sick during the Athens show. Tom Maxwell: Oh yeah, absolutely. It's a winter tour my friend. Jim (Mathus) and Katharine (Whalen) had to actually go to the doctor. In fact, I spent the first song and a half deciding whether or not I was going to pass out. C: And you had just come from the Inaugural didn't you? TM: Yes, we played the inaugural ball. What a whirlwind. We played a Rock The Vote party the night before at this restaurant called the Red Sage and astoundingly enough it made the front cover of the Wall Street Journal, "Hottest party in town, music by the Squirrel Nut Zippers." It was basically like a frat party because there was too many Goddamned people in there, but everybody looked great and one of them happened to be Kevin Costner. Every so often I'd turn around and there would be Uma Thurman or something. C: I know there were a lot of parties up there, but was there any sort of theme to the gig you played? TM: Yeah, we were at the 21st Century Ball, the so-called youth Ball and it was held at the Postal Museum. C: So were you guys onstage when the President came in? TM: No, I don't think anyone was onstage, because when he comes in, they have a big 'ol lockdown and they pick a few representatives from each band to come up. So like a clutch of security guys come in and gather up everybody in some room and basically I got to peek through a curtain at the back of his head. However, Jim and Katharine were onstage and they got to meet the President and Vice-President and their wives. They were thrilled to death. It's incredibly surreal. C: Didn't you guys do a long engagement at the Olympics? I remember thinking that when the bomb went off, that you were one of the bands down there that week. TM: We had played our last show the night before and I guess it happened late Friday night, early Saturday morning. We had really been held up getting out of town because the President was coming in. So we go up to Asheville and play a show and somebody comes up to us and says "Did you hear about the bomb?" and we were just crushed. That experience had been so positive for us. There was really a good spirit there...a great spirit. For whatever reason, we were part of a southern music showcase, and they put us up in a dump of a motel but with all these great cajun fiddlers, Austin two-step bands, American Indian singers. So we all instantly congregated on the deck outside of the bar and held jam sessions nightly until six in the morning each night. And soon the performances at Centennial Parl became secondary to these incredible jam sessions that would take place. C: Now just taking those two events into account, do you guys consider yourselves "made" yet? TM: If anything we're going to have to start cloning ourselves to meet the demands being made on our time. We just started receiving some airplay on some big FM stations and now the ballgame is starting to change. We've gone from the kind of band where it's "Just do your records, and do your thing." to "Jesus, we NEED a video and we need it right now!!" So we're kind of stunned. We spend most of our time being exhausted. C: Did you guys put out a video for this record? TM: Yeah, well I got to direct a video for "Put the Lid On It," but then came the one-two punch of that it didn't turn out to be the radio single and MTV wouldn't play it because we intimated that we might burn a house down. We're shooting the video for "Hell" the day we finish this tour. It's my goal to set it up to be as much like the Lawrence Welk show; the way it's lit and shot and the costumes. How can you get any better than that? I really want it to look like a late 60's broadcast. C: Now is the third record more or less in the can now? TM: Yeah, just about. It's recorded, mostly mixed and we're going to master it out on the west coast. We recorded it in an old house in my hometown of Pittsboro, North Carolina. We had convinced the label to let us do it ourselves. Instead of going back to a studio, we took the money that was going to be advanced to us and bough or borrowed a bunch of a recording equipment. We brought up Mike Napolitano how worked with us on _Hot_, and we just set up this house. I mean the plumbing needed fixing, the foundation was rotting, the electric wiring was primitive to say the least and the heat wasn't on. We had to get all this shit fixed up, and get this equipment in, but it was a good old North Carolina house. One room has a high ceiling and it sounds good, and every room has different personalities and we made a record. However hectic and stressful a time it was, I think we knocked one out of the park. I think it's better than the first two put together. We were able to realize more of the production sound that we've been trying to go for even though we were basically reinventing the wheel. Not everything worked out as well as we would have liked, but I think it starts where _Hot_ left off. C: So how will that work now? I think you called it from the stage, that this would come out in Spring. TM: Not even brother. Summer or fall. We're pushing it back a little bit because somebody smells money on _Hot_. We're going to strike a delicate balance, because the band wants to keep rolling and putting out material. I don't want "Hell" to be played into the ground on FM radio and to have people get sick of it. This new one is more like Big Star's _Third Record_. The songwriting is really great, but there's also times when things kind of break down. We were making weirder sounds on this record than we ever have. I feel like we've gone onto a new level. It was like we were getting our sound on _The Inevitable_, we became a live band for _Hot_, and then on this record there's this new thing going on that's weird and great. C: I know you guys are into people like Cab Calloway and Fats Waller, but do you find yourselves going back to that well for inspiration or is that music around you so much that it's ingrained at this point? TM: Both. I actually wrote a tribute song to Fats Waller's guitar player Al Casey on this record. I got to meet him and it was the thrill of my life. And I wrote a song for him. There's also a song on there that's kind of a tribute to Cab Calloway. I really didn't think about it when I wrote it, but when it came out, I was definitely going for that Cotton Club orchestra sound. So I always go to that well. But even our weirdest and darkest moments, I think we retain some of that sensibility even though on the face of it what we're doing doesn't bear much of any resemblance. It's just damn good music. Are you saying that we're at the point now where we can be musically self-sufficient? C: Yeah. TM: I think we always have been in that we haven't covered people's songs or lifted people's riffs. We've just always tried to go for the emotional nut of the thing and proceed from there. C: Does anyone ever come up and accuse you of being derivative in that sense? TM: Never. Never to my face. If some people come away feeling like that, they don't ever tell us about it. Besides by and large, I don't think most people have ever heard of these guys. Rock and roll didn't pick up on a lot of the things that were in pre-war jazz that we like and jazz disassociated itself from it and denied it. And when they do talk about Fats it's much more of a condescending thing. I mean they can't deny how popular he was, but nobody is interested in giving him credit. I think he was the greatest thing in the world. C: But it's amazing how now that you guys are htting your stride, whether it's commercially or just getting a bigger fan base, you see things like swing nights in Atlanta rock clubs. TM: Well, that's cool. I don't know how much we had to do with that. Of course everybody wants to contextualize what we're doing, which is the last thing that we want to do. C: What sort of response do you get from older people? TM: Overwhelmingly positive when we can reach them. For example, you're not going to reach these people playing the 40 Watt in Athens. But when you do NPR people hear it. When we play early shows in Chapel Hill, for instance, we're able to get the twelve year olds that love us and the seventy year olds. The people seem to be universally excited about it. But the market is devisive where they say "You fit into this six year age range, by God, and we don't expect anybody else to listen to this." And it can be extrapolated just as easily to race. I talked to our label about how can we get black people to come out and they looked at me like I was from Mars. "They have their own charts." is what was told to me. Which is true, but it's FUCKING insane!! C: But considering some of the roots of the stuff you're doing, it seems sort of logical. TM: Sure, it did to me too, but that doesn't seem to be theway that things work out. I mean there are black people that are fans of ours, but the percentages are infinitessimal. We don't even physically move in the same circles. C: Is the dynamic changing for you at all now that things are taking off? TM: Well we just fired our bass player, which was a traumatic thing to do. That was a thing where friction that might have been there when we were all dishwashing chumps didn't make a difference and now three or four years down the road, we couldn't work together. It was very painful for everybody. When money gets involved everything changes. And when you're not allowed to get together in a relaxed manner and enjoy each others company and play music, it's a sad thing. When we see each other, it's associated with being tired, sick, being on the road, humping and doing our thing. But right now the band's getting along great. We split the publishing money equally, not just to the songwriters. But you know, I've been in the thing for three years now, and one day it will derail, but I'm just trying to do the best job I can now and see this thing through. --- Founded in August, 1993, Consumable Online is the oldest music reviews publication on the Internet. To get back issues of Consumable, check out: WWW: http://www.consumableonline.com (Delphi) Music Fandom forum; GO ENT MUSIC To subscribe to Consumable, send an e-mail message to consumable-request@westnet.com with the body of the message stating "subscribe consumable". To unsubscribe, send a message to the same address stating "unsubscribe consumable". Web access contributed by WestNet Internet Services (westnet.com), serving Westchester County, NY. Address any written correspondence to Bob Gajarsky, Consumable Online, 409 Washington St. #294, Hoboken, New Jersey 07030 ===