If the name It’s Not Night: It’s Space immediately illustrates a cosmically inclined approach to music in your mind, we can only recommend you take your protein pills and put your helmet on … and pick up the “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” EP in a solar flash.
As evidenced by the opening seven-minute space-seance, “Moon Goose,” the approach of INN:IS is not without gravitational pull. To the cosmic contrary, the three-piece band deals in the heavier side of psychedelic sound, unafraid to dive headlong into the darkness. The rhythm of the song lumbers forward with some degree of menace and soon finds its way toward shepherding all manner of hypnotic, amplified wizardry. Despite it’s title and temperament, the song is no ugly duckling, and the alternating dirge and drive of the melodies explored within brings to mind a legendary leading of rats as much as any lunar lunacy.
In this way, INN:IS will appeal to the inner-space explorers and pioneers as much as those whose discoveries are tethered to telescopes and umbilical cables. Appropriate then that the next song on the EP – an even longer, even more menacing moon march – is titled “V.I.T.R.I.O.L.” Don’t ask us what it means or what it stands for – but it certainly sounds like intergalactic vitriol.
There comes a clue as to what exactly it is that It’s Not Not: It’s Space stands for and their notions of inner and outer space exploration at the end of the “East of the Sun and West of the Moon,” on a drone and found-soundscape titled “I Amness.” Through the void of space we hear the words of our old friend and fellow spaceman “Ticklish” Terence McKenna, offering the cosmic truth that “no one is in control.” In space, no one can hear you lose your mind – and if they could, odds are they wouldn’t care. But if you care to lose yours, INN:IS can provide an accurate map to the stars.
“In my writing I am acting as a map maker, an explorer of psychic areas, a cosmonaut of inner space, and I see no point in exploring areas that have already been thoroughly surveyed.” Willie “White Hills” Burroughs
We frequently find it hard to believe that Quest For Fire aren’t as old as the ice age itself, or at least thirty-year veterans of the psychic riff wars.
This difficulty is assessing their time, place and space stems from our rapid, repeated consumption of their two albums – a self-titled debut and its follow-up, “Lights from Paradise.” Both albums offer such a complete sound, consistently crushing while never forsaking grace and deftly digging passageways to alternate dimensions. Their songs are so solid, so instantly memorable that they’ve captured a permanent place in our compromised cranium.
Whatever governor that would keep our brain from considering a song like “Bison Eyes” or “Set Out Alone” just as compelling, classic and identifiable as a song like “Born to Go” or “Sweet Leaf” has long since burned away, reduced to ash by these Canadians’ Quest For Fire.
With news that the band is currently working on an eagerly-awaited follow-up to “Lights From Paradise,” we’re more than pleased to share this interview with singer/guitarist Chad Ross, in advance of the band taking hold of the flame at Austin Psych Fest 2012. Enjoy.
What relationship forms in your mind when thinking of the adjective “heavy” to describe music? Is it in the riff? The rhythm? The emotional impact upon the listener? Some combination of all three? Can you recall the first music you heard that made you – figuratively or literally – step back and say, “Whoa – that’s heavy”? Do you still find that music compelling today? Why or why not?
I prefer to think of emotional weight when thinking of all things heavy. My earliest memory of having my mind blown as a kid, was seeing Neil Young sit down and play an acoustic song on television. To this day, Neil Young is still in heavy rotation in my life.
Is there a single notable difference between playing with Quest for Fire and other bands you have been involved with in the past? Was there anything that you wanted to attain with this band – musically, spiritually – at its formation, and if so, how have those ambitions evolved over time? What’s about Quest for Fire in 2012 would have been most surprising to you in, say, 2009?
Quest for Fire has evolved into what it is very naturally. When we first started jamming, it was an outlet, a place to blow off some serious steam. We knew that we wanted to have songs that burned, and we also knew that we wanted to play wide-open, slow jams. To this day, not much has changed. The only thing that surprises me is that we still have the lust to jam. In previous bands, that lust tapered at a faster rate. You have to be friends to make good collective art. When musicians can’t stand being in the same room with each other … that’s the beginning of the end.
One of the many things that we feel sets Quest for Fire apart from some of your contemporaries is simply the vocals themselves – there’s more than a hint of melody within, and never do the vocals seem to be trying to usurp the power of the band; rather, they seem to serve as something as a counterpoint, and an identifiable one. Is this a conscious choice, or just a natural evolution of the band’s sound? How confident were you in your vocal abilities prior to performing with Quest for Fire? What are you most impressed by when it comes to other vocalists or singers?
My vocal style comes very naturally. I can’t belt it out, so I work with what I have.
At first, I wasn’t sure of what i was capable of until we recorded the first record. But everything just started to flow, so I went with it, without question. However, I always knew that I wanted to use the vocals as an additional texture. I wanted it to be a bigger version of The Byrds or “Bull of the Woods.”
What can you tell us about the cover art for both your self-titled album and “Lights From Paradise”? Are the two images related in any concrete way, or do they both only share in their vibrant colors? What do both images represent to you? How important to you is the visual presentation working in concert with the music?
Our good friend Andre Ethier donated both of the images for the LPs. He’s an amazing painter/musician from Toronto. Andrew and I played with Andre in a Toronto garage band called The Deadly Snakes. We still play with Andre from time to time, and Andrew is in another band with him called Cut Flowers. The images were just very fitting, in relation to the jams that we were coming up with at the time of both recordings. There has always been a rich relationship between images and music in the psychedelic world. So it’s very important for them to hold hands. And it’s also very important to know that the two compliment and inspire each other.
We make no secret of our utter fascination with Monster Magnet and particularly their braintrust, Dave Wyndorf (seen on our site here buying socks at Target with the drummer of The Vandelles). How did it come to be that Quest for Fire make the trek from Toronto to NYC to open for the band recently? Was it worth the trip?
Oh, shit. A good friend of ours from Teepee Records set up the show. We agreed to do it because it was a good excuse to go down to New York and hang with some buds. I didn’t watch them. Nice dudes, just not my thing. We got screwed for money, got way too wasted, got caught in a little snow storm and headed back to Toronto with the shakes. Let’s just say we had fun.
Would you care to comment on the rumor (the rumor that we are attempting to start right now) that you have decided to not play music at Austin Psych Fest this year, and will instead set up a food cart in the vendor area, selling garbanzo beans, rolled oats and kale, to be called “Quest For Fiber”?
That’s a horrible idea for a food cart in Austin. A better idea would be to keep the name, and sell tacos instead. Lots of fiber in those guys. But who in their right mind would want to buy tacos from a bunch of Canadians? No.
How did you first hear about Austin Psych Fest? Are there any bands in particular on the bill that you have not seen before, but are anxious to catch this year?
We got asked to do it last year. In fact, I think we were announced to play. We had to cancel because of a conflict with a European tour. Bummer. I’m excited about the lineup this year. I’ve seen a lot of the bands playing. I like Psychic Ills a lot… stoked to see them. I’ve also been digging lots of Moon Duo/Wooden Shjips lately … stoked to see those guys again.
What music have you been listening to lately? If push comes to shove, what is your favorite Moody Blues song of all time?
I’m really digging the new Ty Segall record, “Goodbye bread.” That’s funny that you mention The Moody Blues. I’m actually pretty obsessed with their first four records. “A question of balance” actually sat on my turntable for the better part of last week. My favorite jam on that record is, “It’s Up to You.”
Eleanor Roosevelt – also a fan of Monster Magnet – once said the following:
“It takes courage to love, but pain through love is the purifying fire which those who love generously know. We all know people who are so much afraid of pain that they shut themselves up like clams in a shell and, giving out nothing, receive nothing and therefore shrink until life is a mere living death.”
Your thoughts?
Heavy.
What’s next for Quest for Fire?
We’ve actually been in the studio working on songs for our new record. We’re just at the demo part of the process, but everything is coming together very nicely. We hope to have a new record out in 2012.
“Fuji Descent” – the opening track from “Atlas Days,” the 2011 album released by High Wolf – imbues the listener with a sense of journey from it’s opening seconds, carried through in the song’s following seven minutes that seem to pass in the blink of an eye. It is that very sense of a journey – of meditative movement, of progress and pilgrimage adjoined as one – that keeps us returning, again and again, to the music of High Wolf.
Through a wide range of releases and collaborations, High Wolf has, for us, come to represent the current high-water mark for conscientious, cosmic drone. The music invites – nearly demands – the listener to submit to and be cleansed by the power of sonic somnambulism. Yet under the sign of the Wolf, the journey never sacrifices lucidity. It’s a masterful trick.
We tracked down the magician in question to ask him more about the music of High Wolf, Austin Psych Fest 2012 and our relationship with the cosmos. You know – normal stuff. Enjoy.
The wolf has a prominent presence in a variety of cultural and social mythologies – present in Hindu, Norse and Indian histories, admired as a hunter by some, feared as a predator by more, and revered as a basketball playing teenager by all. What do you remember as your first personal connection to the wolf? Did you ever have, or remain to have any personal or spiritual fascination with the wolf?
The wolf is, surprisingly, not an animal that I really have a fascination for. But it’s most of all an image of man – man is a wolf for man. And it looks great on t-shirts! I’ve seen some wolves lately, and I was like “It’s not that scary … what’s the big deal – it’s like a dog,” until it started to bark and show teeth – then I was more respectful!
From a musical perspective, what led you to decide to use the name High Wolf? Does it reflect in some ways what we sometimes consider a solitary thread running through High Wolf’s music? Or are you actually just paying tribute to Howlin’ Wolf in your own unique way?
With all due respect, I don’t give a fuck about Howlin’ Wolf – I don’t even know it. The name came accidentally. It was just there. It hit me one day I was looking for a name. So that’s it, for better or worse. Now being “high” and “wolf,” solitary while doing this music, is not far from the truth, actually. So maybe it means something that I didn’t realize at first, but my subconscious said, “That’s it.”
What experiences did you have musically preceding High Wolf that compelled you to commit to making music by yourself? How does playing music with other artists – playing with Gnod, with Sun Araw, with Chicaloyoh as Voodoo Mount Sister – ultimately impact your creativity when working alone?
Well, the factors that lead me to solo music are extra-musical. I started music with high school friends but I was the one who was the more motivated, I guess, so we didn’t go very far. So I learnt that if I wanted to do things I needed to control everything and to rely only on myself. It is a huge aspect of my personality, but as I like people after all, and I think playing music with friends is a beautiful thing to do, I have many collaborations. But those are free, in the sense that I have my thing as a primary project, and I don’t have to expect anything with collaborations. Meaning I don’t care about what label, what format, what conditions, what success … No expectation equals no frustration. And if you are frustrated with a project you do with other people then it becomes difficult. So, for instance, Voodoo Mount Sister, my duo with Chicaloyoh, has done two records so far. And each record comes from one single improvised session. We’re very good friends but when we meet we have dinner, we talk, we drink, whatever. And once a year we make music! So it puts things in perspective. It says , “You are my friend first, and you’re sometimes a musical collaborator, when we feel it’s what we want to do.” And it’s not because you’re a good guitarist or drummer that I want to make music with you.
I don’t know how that had an impact on my creativity … hard to say, honestly. But I know I learned a lot playing with Gnod or Astral Social Club, hanging out with Sun Araw and many other people.
Do you feel you could ever dedicate yourself to playing either by yourself or with others exclusively – though the real question may be, why would you? Is the separation between working alone and working with others something you need? Is a separation from music itself something you need? What are your favorite guitar solos of all time? Drum solos?
Wow, so many questions … I think I did answer a bit already, but if I had to choose I’d choose solo work. Because it’s deep down some kind of metaphysical quest that only I can exercise. And if not in music, it would be through a different media of expression. I can see myself switching to another art at some point, even if I don’t feel it at all now. But what I mean is that it’s something that is very deep inside of me and that will never stop, whether it’s in music or not. I hope I don’t have to choose, though, because it’s nice thing to do music with people, to let go of that ego and share with people, to learn (and I’ve learned everything through others).
Separation from music? Don’t really know what that means … But one thing I can tell you is that for a year or so I listen to way less music, especially way less new things. Too many new bands, new labels, new blogs … I’m lost. I feel like I can’t compete with the internet strength, live in the internet redefinition of time. It goes too fast. I do read a lot, listen to a lot of national radio programs podcasts – that’s my primary use of my solo free time. I still enjoy listening to good music, for sure, to see good bands perform, but I’m not looking for the new thing as much as I’ve done in the past.
My favorite guitar solos?? Good question. I think it’d be solo guitar albums more than solos in a regular band piece. So that’d be Sir Richard Bishop, Steven R. Smith, Michael Flower, Ignatz as well. And a lot of Mali/Niger desert blues guitarists. I’d like to play better so I could do some piece based on guitar only. It’s in my mind.
About drum solos … free jazz drummers like Milford Graves, Ed Blackwell, Rashied Ali, Hamid Drake, and so many others, have tons of amazing solos. Not to forget our modern superhero Chris Corsano.
Would you care to comment on the rumor (the rumor that we are attempting to start right now) that you will soon take a break from releasing recorded music and instead release a line of snack foods called, “Affamé Comme le Loup Haute”?
What a nice rumor. But it’s wrong. The truth is I’m gonna become an astronaut. But to talk about food, I don’t eat meat, but I recommend wolf meat – that’s the best for snack. And the name you use is another proof if needed that Google Translate is not ready yet!
What is your favorite atmosphere for performing under the name High Wolf, and does that differ from what you like when improving live with others? What music have you seen live in the past year or so that continues to stick with you? What would be the ultimate High Wolf show for you, real or imagined?
My favorite atmosphere is of course a packed room, not too big, kinda intimate, 80 people maybe. But packed, like no one can move. And you’re alone and stage, seated on the floor, and you use this intensity to concentrate your relaxation and emancipation. And you feel the attention, like people care and don’t have their iPhone in the hand. Then you can really take time – you’re not in a struggle to win the attention. That’s what I like the most on stage. When I improvise with others, I don’t have the same feeling of control because I never know how it’s gonna evolve. While alone, if I grab the attention, then it’s nothing to worry about.
The ultimate live show … so many variables. It could be a location. Considering High Wolf “mythology” it would be in the Amazon forest. Space is tempting, but sound doesn’t exist there so no point. It could be a matter of people present, on stage or in the audience. It could be a matter of context, like the last show ever. Before my own end or the end of the world … melancholia situation. I don’t know – anything ultimate is like something you need to think for more than a minute.
How did you first become aware of Austin Psych Fest? Are there any other artists in particular that you hope to see while there?
Well, last year the APF guys contacted me but I left the USA after playing SXSW so that couldn’t happen, but I guess that’d be the first time I heard about the festival.
When I saw the first line up announced a couple of weeks ago I couldn’t believe the names. I’m excited to meet with my good buddies from Sun Araw for a start, and see the new set they’re gonna play. A lot of bands are not to be missed – Psychic Ills, Peaking Lights, Prince Rama, Woods, Moon Duo … and I think there might be new bands announced later. It’s gonna be crazy.
In the introduction to his book “2001: A Space Odyssey,” author Arthur C. “You In Hell” Clarke says:
“Behind every man now alive stand thirty ghosts, for that is the ratio by which the dead outnumber the living. Since the dawn of time, roughly a hundred billion human beings have walked the planet Earth.
Now, this is an interesting number, for by a curious coincidence there are approximately a hundred billion stars in our local universe, the Milky Way. So for every man who has ever lived, in this Universe there shines a star.”
Your thoughts?
That’s beautiful. One track from “Atlas Nation” is named “The Dawn of Man,” after the opening sequence from the “2001” movie by Kubrick. This movie/book develops so many essential metaphysical topics, it’s perfect. Don’t start to talk to me about the billions of stars in the galaxy, the billions of galaxies and possibly the billions of universes, because it gonna take hours. That’s like my favorite topic, together with human soul and human brain.
I care about the thirty ghosts idea, although now it’d be thirty-two, maybe, since the book came out. But I see it more like the fact that humanity grew for so many hundreds of thousands of years, and that we have a storage room – a hard drive we can use – that the first men couldn’t. We have countless mythologies and religions that can help us understand who we are and what’s in our psyche. We do have books from ancient Greek philosophers, ancient Roman poets, middle-age theologists, 17th-century moralists, 18th-century “philosophes des lumières,” 19th-century has so many great philosophers and writers, it’s ridiculous, etc., etc., … Science has exploded in every subject, Physics, Medicine, Geology, Astrophysics …
I mean, that’s how our thirty ghosts can talk to us and help us to understand and to live better. And so many people don’t give a shit about it – it’s depressing in a way. But I do have the best ghosts behind me. They’re Socrates, Montaigne, Nietzsche, Levi-Strauss, Emerson, Newton, Einstein, Planck …
Now about the idea that every star in the galaxy symbolizes every human being that existed, I’d disagree – it’s way too anthropocentric to me. The universe couldn’t care less about us. And you can’t stop at the galaxy – the universe has to be considered in its entirety to make such calculation and propositions.
Clark writes “curious coincidence.” It implies that it might not be a coincidence. We’re insignificant, I think. Believing we’re part of a plan, even more an important part of such a hypothetical plan, seems untrue to me. But in the end, who knows?
“Lord I Feel It” is the title of the first song offered by Lead Stones on their astoundingly affecting “Set + Setting” collection – though more than the title, it’s the natural reaction, the eventual declaration of the listener.
It doesn’t take long to feel it, with guitars guilty of attempting – and achieving – a feedback-fueled liftoff on the opening seconds, drums anchoring a rhythm that not only holds a steady beat but also seems to egg the band on toward explosion, leaving only the dreamy, docile keyboard stabs underneath it all to keep the peace. With the vocals added to the mix, the Lead Stones crash easily through our skin and soul, and Lord, we feel it. Adding harmonies – like those that follow the song’s sung confession, “Lord, I’ve thrown away more than I thought I could own” – gives additional weight to these Lead Stones, and makes their sound irresistible.
“Set + Setting” as a whole provides equally memorable and moving combinations of harmonic overdrive at every turn – and, appropriate to its title, Lead Stones seem to be under doctor’s orders to fulfill their potential of seeing their songs “serve as road maps for new interior territories.”
A wonderful cover of “Here Without You” by the brothers Byrd comes as a bonus, yet shows the road maps to be no less illuminating whether highlighting new territories or trails pioneered previously, and offers the Lead Stones an opportunity to truly take flight despite their great weight. But it is “The Breaks” that reminds us most of a trip to past aided by winged-creatures – only here we hear something more, a unforgettable, heavy hymnal to the disciples of the universal joke.
Lead Stones create massive mind music that reveals itself in countless, contrastingly microscopic and panoramic moments of magick. Feel it.
“Love doesn’t just sit there, like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.” Ursula K. “Gentle Giant Rules” Guin, The Lathe of Heaven
In the attempt to read the plumes of smoke rising heavily from the LP “Black Smoke Rising” by The Orange Revival, one must be careful not to end up with his or her head in the clouds. Such is the intoxicating nature of the songs collected within – rock of frustration sent to the air with great elevation.
Given the strength of smoke signals as a tool used to communicate over great distances, it seems appropriate that the fuzz-and-organ drenched explosions delivered by The Orange Revival travel from the sacred soil of Sweden to sweeten our rock and roll dreams. But the message received would be equally pleasing no matter where the fire of The Orange Revival began its burn – and songs like “Bring Your Light” and “Ever” confirm that their fire is burning bright.
We sent a smoke signal of our own to Sweden, reviving the band’s Eric from his fourteen-hour, twelve-string, technicolor dream, who was then kind enough to fill us in on the many colors of The Orange Revival. Enjoy.
The opening song (“Yesterday”) seems to us the perfect introduction not only to the “Black Smoke Rising” album in particular but to the music of The Orange Revival as a whole – memorable, massive and (maybe) mystical. What can you tell us about the creation of this song? What does the “black smoke” referenced in this song refer to, and what led to the decision to title the album as such?
The song was made around March of last year and recorded around May so we could have the 12” ready before our European tour. But we didn’t get it before the tour so … hehe. It was a lot of stress recording/mixing/mastering the songs off the album and at the same time booking a tour, work, etc., but it worked out. The time when I was writing the song was really sad and bad … it was a black smoke rising.
What was your very first experience playing in a band and what was most surprising to you – either in a positive or a negative way – about that experience? What bands or artists persuaded you to start creating your own music? How do you think your concept of yourself as a musician or artist has evolved since starting The Orange Revival?
I started playing music when I was like 10 years old but never really got into it. Then I got hooked when I was 17-18 and since then I have played in a few different bands ,but ended up only playing with my own band (Orange Revival) ‘cause that´s the music I wanna play.
Dylan was a big influence when I started playing guitar again and singing, etc. … Elliott Smith and Nico, also. They are three of the people who made me start playing again, but there are many, many more.
I just play whatever comes up in my head and don´t think much about a certain sound – rather a good mix than a repeat.
Are all of the members of The Orange Revival from Sweden originally? How do you think your upbringing or adolescence in Sweden contributed to you developing an interest in music? Sweden has a notable history of producing bands in not only the psychedelic (from Baby Grandmothers to Dungen) and rock and roll realms (The Hellacopters, Graveyard, etc.), but in more difficult to define realms as well (ABBA, Bathory, Parson Sound, Jasper TX). What music from Sweden continues to excite or interest you today?
Yeah, we are all from Sweden. It’s been a few different members during the last few years – Andreas has been playing with us for one year now, Christian for a bit more than a year and Volter for six months. Every member has changed except for me since our acoustic European tour in 2010. It was dirty, we slept on the streets most of the time, got drugged and robbed in Spain, etc. Felix (our guitarist then) was found in the woods on a bench without anything except clothes. Somebody had carried him down there away from us during sleep, it was all very weird … hard to describe on a computer. We will put out a short film from that trip if we can find a camera to transfer the tapes to the computer … there is 11hours of footage from that trip.
We have many good friends in Sweden who plays great music and as you said we have Graveyard, Dungen ,Trummor & Orgel, The Soundtrack of Our Lives, and many, many more, among which are some of the newer bands here that we like!
Have you ever seen this website before? What do you think your reaction would be if this group asked The Orange Revival to perform at one of your events? What do you think the audience reaction would be if you actually did it, and would you play a song called “Lord, I’m Gonna Shake It”?
The video they got there is out of control. Psychedelic shit!
If we had a song called “Lord, I’m Gonna Shake It,” we would definitely play it and let them shake their brains all the way to reality …
“Composition 14:39” is another song on “Black Smoke Rising” that continues to fascinate us, especially given its organ-heavy, “Satanic Majesties”-style sing-along vibe. What does the title of the song have to so with its contents, if anything? Is it possible that there exists a fourteen-minute, thirty-nine second version of this song somewhere?
The song was written and recorded a sunny day last winter in February. I recorded the acoustic guitar and the organ melody thru the built in mic on my Macbook – haha! – and the vocals as well, then added drums and some vocal layers in our studio. I started to record it when the clock on my computer said “14:39,” so I just named the project “14:39” and never came up with a better name.
Do you have a preference between playing live with The Orange Revival and recording with The Orange Revival? What do you hope the audience translates from your sound when hearing The Orange Revival play? What types of things do you like to experience yourself when watching live music?
I like both playing live and recording. I just want to hear good music if I go to a concert, I guess … and to see that they enjoy to be there playing.
Would you care to comment on the rumor (the rumor that we are attempting to start right now) that you will spend half of your time at Austin Psych Fest running a food cart serving orange sherbet cocktails, duck l’orange sandwiches and raw orange Mentos (the Freshmaker!), called “The Orange Revival”?
The rumor is that we will serve warm Johnny Walker Red from a parachute.
How did you first hear about Austin Psych Fest? Have you visited the States previously? Are there any bands in particular that you are looking forward to seeing play at the Fest?
Yeah, I think we all have been in the States before, except from our bass player. We are looking forward to seeing as many bands as possible. The Brian Jonestown Massacre is always great and haven´t seen The Black Angels before, so that will be fun, and The Telescopes and … yeah, it’s a lot of good bands! Looking forward to see which other twenty bands will be playing this year!
In his classic book “Lord of the Flies,” William Golding writes the following:
“His voice rose under the black smoke before the burning wreckage of the island; and infected by that emotion, the other little boys began to shake and sob too. And in the middle of them, with filthy body, matted hair, and unwiped nose, Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man’s heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy.”
Your thoughts?
Guess the stone was produced in space and released in Piggy´s face. Too bad, though – he was a good guy.
What’s next for The Orange Revival?
We just came back from a gig in Stockholm and we are playing a gig here at our home village on Friday and we are recording many new songs which will be out soon! Hopefully we will have a new EP out before we go to the US. We have been playing many new songs live, but haven´t really had the time and strength to record them all yet. We are also planning some gigs around New York and some other cities before Psych Fest, so keep an eye out! Looking forward to seeing you in Austin!
A willingness to suspend disbelief may encourage the enjoyment of the dark, bloody world of Uncle Acid and The Deadbeats – the willingness to disbelieve the fact that the “Blood Lust” album was not released in 1972, the willingness to disbelieve the idea that Uncle Acid’s voice alone can slit your throat, the willingness to disbelieve the very real possibility that The Deadbeats will someday show up at your front en masse, after midnight, demanding your money, your drugs or your life.
It’s the same disbelief that often fuels our fear in the land of film – the suspension of reality that feeds the dark delirium of such classic UK horror as “Taste the Blood of Dracula” or “The Plague of the Zombies” also feeds Uncle Acid tracks like “I’ll Cut You Down” or “13 Candles.”
Yet horror also relies on what is not seen – and we’ve not seen the flesh of Uncle Acid and The Deadbeats yet. No matter. We didn’t see “Rosemary’s Baby, either. And upon that films release in 1968, Los Angeles Times film critic Charles Champlin ended his review by stating the following:
“Having paid my critical respects, I must add that I found ‘Rosemary’s Baby’ a most desperately sick and obscene motion picture whose ultimate horror – in my very private opinion – was that it was made at all. It seems a singularly appropriate symbol of an age which believing in nothing will believe in anything. Its surfaces are too accurate and Miss Farrow’s anguish too real to let us be comfortable in some never-never land of escape.”
Likewise, we too find Uncle Acid and The Deadbeats too accurate and too real to let us really be comfortable. But we nevertheless enter his never-never land, our entry gained via the interview below. Read on if you dare …
Can you recall the first time that music made you realize the association between music and fear? Was it a sensation that appealed to you immediately or something that slowly crept into your mindset? During your adolescence, were there any artists whose music or image struck fear into your heart? Are there any now?
I remember being terrified of Ozzy when I was younger – fat, ’80s Ozzy. To me, he seemed like some kind of out of control satanic thug who I imagined lived in a castle somewhere. The association between music and fear is very similar to film in a lot of ways. You can associate all kinds of feelings to what you see and hear. I think it works better when the message is conflicting. You get directors who’ll put ballads on top of a murder scene and stuff like that. I like things that contrast, which is why we put two and three part harmonies on top of Sabbath-y riffs. It shouldn’t work, but it does.
Have you always been attracted to the “dark” side of music? What can you tell us about your own personal musical evolution? Did you play in bands prior to Uncle Acid, and if so, how did those experiences influence what you wanted to do with The Deadbeats?
I like dark and heavy music, but I also enjoy lighter music too. By lighter music I mean things like The Beatles, CSN&Y, The Ronettes … that kind of thing, not the shit that’s in the charts today. I can’t listen to someone like The Byrds all the time the same way I can’t listen to Slayer all the time, but a good balance is important and makes the music more enjoyable. I really can’t relate to these people who just listen to one genre of music. It’s good to be appreciative of all kinds of music.
Before this I was in a really bad thrash band. It was just a jam band really. I don’t think any of us took it that seriously, but it was good fun for a while. I didn’t write any of the songs but I did get to play fast, technical stuff. That got pretty boring after a while though so I just quit to do my own thing. So really, all I learned from it was if I wanted to go anywhere, I’d need to write my own stuff.
The music of Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats, to our ears, is undeniable in its joyful, junked-up simplicity. Did the music exist prior to the concept (for lack of a better word) of the band? Or was it in your mind to create a sinister sounding rock band and these are the songs that came out of that desire?
The music came first, but I’ve always wanted to mix heavy and sinister with melody and harmony. That was, I suppose, the only concept for the band. Everything I write tends to end up weird and sinister anyway. I’ve always had a very strange imagination. I remember at school once, my English teacher told everyone to write a Brothers Grimm-style fairytale. I went completely overboard and wrote mine about two children who get captured by a witch in a snowy forest and then get dismembered and eaten … in graphic detail. It had lines like, “Their blood twisted in the snow like candy canes.” It was fantastic!
One of the things that makes Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats so compelling to us is the sense of mystery in regard to the band, and the fact that the band seems almost anonymous to us, outside of the visuals we draw in our heads from the name alone. Was this aura of intrigue a distinct objective or an accident, or perhaps just a necessity? The band really did seem to come from nowhere – like Dr. Phibes.
Well, we’ve been here for awhile, it’s just no one ever came to visit us out here in the sticks. You know how it goes. I like things to have mystery, plus it suits me personally because I don’t really like giving out too much information about anything. People will always want to find out more but unless they ask specific questions, they won’t get answers. There’s also this whole thing that I hate about modern bands and the way they over-expose themselves. There’s just put too much crap out there as it is. All this Twitter updating and having millions of glossy promo shots of the same four people … I just looked at all of that and thought, “Is this really necessary?”. So we just went the opposite way, partly out of spite, partly to see what would happen and also because it was just the right thing to do. There’s a great Neil Young line that goes, “I’m a Cutlass Supreme in the wrong lane trying to turn against the flow.” That’s how I feel sometimes when I look at all these bands heading down Twitter highway while our shitty Oldsmobile of a band is trying to go the other way.
Another thing that makes us return again and again to the “Blood Lust” album is the terrific, raw and freaked out vocals. What did you want to capture when it came to the voice of Uncle Acid and The Deadbeats? Who are the vocalists who possess screams that send shivers up your spine?
Thanks, but really the only reason I’m the singer is because no one else would do it. I think that’s how it used to be in rock music before really good singers like Robert Plant came along. I don’t have the power to sing like those ’70s rock gods. I guess I’m coming from more of a shitty, ’60s garage rock angle. I have zero technique and a weird delivery, but thankfully it doesn’t matter. I actually tried setting this band up in 2008 and I jammed with a few other people, including a singer. I had this great little song called “Spider” which was a weird surf rock meets early Alice Cooper type thing. Really simple, catchy melody. I gave the singer a demo and told him to learn the melody. The guy came in the next week telling me he’d come up with something better. He then sang some awful soul shit. So I just put an end to the whole thing and gave up. Singers are assholes. Blackie Lawless from W.A.S.P. is one of my all time favorite screamers. More people should worship W.A.S.P.
Do Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats have plans to tour – or have you avoided the live arena in its entirety? What would you like to see in an Uncle Acid live show that so far has proved out of your grasp? What are the bands or artists that you find most compelling live – perhaps even more compelling live than on record?
I think we’ll start playing live again soon. I’m in no rush with these things. I’d probably prefer to be working on new stuff all the time to be honest, but it would be nice to go out and play for a bit too. I’d like to have a live witch burning at every show, but they won’t let you do that any more, apparently. It’s political correctness gone mad!
I’d say Neil Young is the greatest live performer around now. He’ll do things on the guitar that I’ve never heard anyone do. There’s a clip on YouTube that I’m studying where he does this solo that sounds like an old tractor stuttering and falling apart, but its the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. Half of it is just noise. I’ve watched it 200 times but I still have no idea how he’s making these sounds. He’s the last outlaw but he’s still putting out great music too.
What music have you been listening to lately? If push comes to shove, what’s your favorite Cactus song of all time?
“Sunset Mission” by Bohren and der Club of Gore. Great stuff. It’s sort of doomy jazz or something. I love film noir and this is just like the ultimate film noir soundtrack. I put that on and I instantly feel like Humphrey Bogart. I’d like to see them live. Also, some Alice Cooper – “Love It To Death” and “Killer.” Both amazing albums.
I love Cactus. I first heard them on late night radio about 12 years ago. Now you can just go on YouTube or Wikipedia and find everything, but back then it was impossible to find their music or any information about them whatsoever. I ended up having to get their greatest hits on import as it was the only album I could find at that time. Hard to pick a favorite. Their cover of “Evil” is what got me into them and that’s a great one, but if I was to pick one it would probably be “Token Chokin.”
Would you care to comment on the rumor (the rumor that we are attempting to start right now) that you will soon enter the studio to record an acid-tastic version of a classic Sister Sledge song, with the working title, “We Are (The Manson) Family”?
I wish it were true. I actually found a load of old covers that we recorded last year, but sadly that wasn’t one of them. We did another Kinks song a while ago but I don’t think there’s much point putting it out other than to show off my amazingly average harmonica skills. Maybe one day.
In his recent book “Shock Values,” author Jason Zinoman says the following:
“One of the central pleasures of getting scared is that it focuses the mind. When you experience extreme fear, you forget the rest of the world. This intensity fixes you in the present tense. Overwhelming terror may be the closest we ever get to the feeling of being born. To put it another way, the good horror movies make you think; the great ones make you stop.”
Your thoughts?
Well, if it’s written in a book, then it must be true. But actually, fear really does focus the mind. It’s a good distraction technique, too. It’s used in politics and media all the time to focus our minds elsewhere whilst the piggies at the top run riot.
What’s next for Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats?
We’ll do a new album this year, I suppose. Also, we hope to bring our live show of misery and disappointment to a dump near you sometime soon.
“Stuck in the astromuck. Let’s Party.” So states the mission statement of Plant Tribe. You’ll be challenged to find words as sound, succinct and satisfying given what this Tribe has planted on their “Saturation” EP.
Firing forth with three songs of kinetically-charged, kosmic, boogie woogie bardo, “Airforce” makes an off-kilter liftoff toward touching the astromuck, demonstrating in a matter of seconds that Plant Tribe are out there having fun, in the warm California sun. But while every plant needs light, certain strains do just fine when that light is dim. By the time they reach the “Top Shelf,” the Plant Tribe party is blooming in multiple directions and dimensions. Those dimensions may manifest themselves as fuel for the listener’s growing spiritual awareness or as fuel for the listener’s desire to decorate notebook covers in detail – both worthwhile pursuits in the Plant Tribe hierarchy.
“My mind is reflecting the change of the seasons” are the words sung (and we mean sung), slowly, confirming the service of “Saturation” to sow its sonic seeds around the outside and inside of the altar of rock, following the far-out trails left by planting pioneers at all elevations while blazing a few of their own (trails, that is). Plant Tribe soar skyward, strange and in screaming full-color one minute, muted, meditative and magical the next – both worthwhile pursuits in the Plant Tribe hierarchy. Let’s party.
“Brute force crushes many plants. Yet the plants rise again. The Pyramids will not last a moment compared with the daisy. And before Buddha or Jesus spoke the nightingale sang, and long after the words of Jesus and Buddha are gone into oblivion the nightingale still will sing. Because it is neither preaching nor commanding nor urging. It is just singing. And in the beginning was not a Word, but a chirrup.” — D.H. Lawrence, Etruscan Places
Somewhere amongst the cultural and cosmic detritus of the West, there exists a force known as Indian Jewelry.
We believe this force – which some call a band, which some call a cult, which some say rests its collective head in Houston, TX – to be known to enlist the tools of amplification, electronics, passion, paranoia and drums, drums, drums, in an effort to dramatically demonstrate and radically remind us of something the very, very dead William “Free Gold!” Burroughs once said: “Rock music can be seen as one attempt to break out of this dead soulless universe and reassert the universe of magic.”
And we believe this force looks good doing it.
We believe this force to have a compounding effect, their albums becoming more dynamic with each and every listen. We believe the band is nearly peerless with regard to the artistic process of today – we believe Indian Jewelry when they say, “In every practice space across the world, truly awful bands are rehearsing their shitty music, but that will NEVER be us; we don’t rehearse.”
We believe we are fortunate to see Indian Jewelry as part of the great collection of weirdos that will gather to perform at Austin Psych Fest 2012, and we believe we are just as fortunate to present this interview with Indian Jewelry’s Tex Kerschen. Enjoy.
Would you have expected yourself to be making music as singular and strange as that of Indian Jewelry when you were, say, fifteen years old? Was there a first time that you can recall having the distinct feeling that your musical tastes would grow to be perhaps more adventurous than many of your friends or peers? What influence did your parents have on your early musical interests? Can you think of a song from your childhood that still resonates with you today – and why do you think that is?
I’m the oldest of seven children; our family was a portable Irish ghetto, and there was always music playing at home. I don’t think I’ll ever hear Leonard Cohen’s “Suzanne” or Willie Nelson’s “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain” without thinking of my mother. I grew up in the suburbs of Houston between the metalheads and the skaters, but I always had my own ideas. The music we make in this band is the kind of music I’ve wanted to make since I can remember. I don’t think of it as strange music at all – just human.
Do you believe that music can put one into a meditative state? For yourself, does music arouse feelings of primal hatred and disgust, or it is more likely to truly “soothe the savage beast”
I find it difficult to meditate, I seem to have forgotten my mantra.
In 2008, the South African government forbid the song “Get Out” by Zimbabwean-born hip-hop artist Zubz to be played on the South African Broadcasting Corporation (SABC) because of lyrics that were deemed “hate speech” – lyrics like:
“Understand I’m gonna get this panga to your neck.
Take what is mine today and I’ll rob you tomorrow.
Take my time, it’s payback.
Tell my people fight. And tell the oppressor get out.”
Do you feel the music of Indian Jewelry has an ingrained allegiance to music that in some way seeks to strike out against oppression, be it Johnny Cash or be it Zubz? What is your favorite Johnny Cash song and why? What is your favorite Zubz song – and why?
Who knows if music is capable at striking anything? At times, the music of the Dead Kennedys and Fugazi kept me informed. At its best it keeps us human. I know where my sympathies lay- there are a lot of boots stepping on a lot of skulls anywhere you look. But all the channels are jammed. I was at an anti-war rally demonstration here in Houston in 2003 where they marched us through the empty financial district downtown on a Saturday and led us to a park and played Bob Dylan songs over the PA. I’ve attended countless demonstrations and teach-ins. Maybe if we had buckets instead of drum machines they’d let us into the party.
All the same, you’ve got to sing about something. People in bigger bands have to answer to their investors. People in small bands have to answer their consciences, artistic, ethical, or otherwise. We’ve got some songs about the heavy hands of history, and we’ve got songs about love and loss and the economies of Midwestern resort islands. I’ve always loved Johnny Cash. He was a giant and he had a giant amount of heart … He made all those great hit songs as well as the fun ones like “Orange Blossom Special” and “Jackson,” as well as social conscience stuff like “Ira Hayes” or “Folsom Prison Blues.”
Speaking of Johnny Cash, we have to assume the man did at least his fair share of honkytonking before exiting this mortal coil. What can you tell us about the origin of the song “Too Much Honkytonking” from your album, “Free Gold!”? Aside from a few stray notes at the beginning, the song betrays little connection to country-western. How much do you hear distinct genres that of music that interest or influence you within what you create as Indian Jewelry? How much do you expect the listener to recognize? Do you expect anything of the listener?
Sure, I like talking about songs. I’m neither a fighter nor a non-fighter, but many years ago I got into a brawl with a drunk guy who manhandled Erika outside of a bar in Houston. A few days after the fight I ran into my friend Gabriel Delgado, a talented painter, and when he asked me what happened I replied, “Too much honkytonking.” After that he presented me with a great little painting with that name. A few years later, after thinking of this great little painting and the distances that come up between old friends and the exhausting uselessness of fighting phantoms, I wrote the song.
As far as I’m concerned we’re as much country and western as we are rap or rock, and we are all of those things. We are not a genre band. We are not even a music band.
It is hard to expect much out of listeners. Very few people get a chance to listen to things closely. It’s a pity, but that’s the world we asked for and that’s the world we’ve got. Our psychic spaces are overcrowded. I’m going through all my belongings in preparation for a move. It bums me out that I can’t get rid of my own thoughts and memories as easily as I can throw away things that I don’t need anymore. Like I mentioned before, I’m having trouble meditating.
Also, most people have a lazy attitude toward music. They want to consume experience and the less they actually do the more they have to say about it. They expect to be entertained or moved deeply, but on their own terms. I don’t care about their terms any more than they care about mine. It depends on both the part of the artist and the audience to come up with a momentary understanding.
We’ve been fortunate enough to see Indian Jewelry perform live on a small handful of occasions and have been awed on each of those occasions. What are the essential elements of a really stellar Indian Jewelry show for you? Are you more concerned with material elements (PA, stage, lights) or emotional elements (general mood, interactions with other band members) prior to performing live?
Thanks. As Antoine Yates, the visionary who kept a 500-pound tiger and an alligator among the many pets in his Harlem apartment, said: “That was part of my journey. I mean, that was my essence of what I was trying to create, a paradise.” Likewise, we try to create a special experience with all the elements within our control. It makes things harder to play in strobes in otherwise near-complete darkness, and apart from the fact that we do alienate some photosensitive people, it is worth it to get away from the beer light.
Would you care to comment on the rumor (the rumor that we are attempting to start right now) you are currently making plans to abandon music completely and open a kiosk just outside the LensCrafters at Memorial City Mall, under the banner “Tex’s Indian Jewelry, Chinese Chotchkies and El Salvadorian LP’s”?
It was actually a kiosk selling Neon Indian and Nite Jewel bootlegs, but the RIAA got a tip from the blogs and they shut us down.
What benefit to your own sense of creativity do you get from working with other musicians? Is there anything concretely different in the way you approach playing or creating music with Indian Jewelry, as opposed to when working with others? Do you encourage outside or additional projects among all who play with Indian Jewelry?
If I couldn’t play with other people I’d hightail it down to Galveston and put out to sea in a floating recliner. Our band has always been something of a mutual-aid society. Most once and current members have had their own things going on. Keep in mind, most of these are stand-alone bands, not spin-offs or dependents. Twisted Wires, VRS, Electric Set, Future Blondes, Dead Roses, Thousand Cranes, the Wiggins, Rua Minx, Terrible Eagle, Leslie Keffer. It goes on and on.
What music have you been listening to lately? Are there any bands performing at Austin Psych Fest 2012 that you are particularly interested in seeing perform, that you have not seen previously?
Been listening to a George Brassenes record my brother-in-law gave me for x-mas. Also, the new Future Blondes LP, to Von Sudenfed’s “Tromatic Reflexxions,” to tracks from the Wiggins’ “Myth of Man” LP coming out soon, to Balaclavas’ “Snake People,” Clipd Beaks’ “Hoarse Lords” and mostly to Serge Gainsbourg videos on the internet. We have had the good fortune to play with most of the bands at Psych Fest on different occasions. Among them are a number of our good friends.
English aristocrat Lady Mary Wortley Montagu (who undoubtedly loved Throbbing Gristle) is quoted as having said the following: “I prefer liberty to chains of diamonds.” Your thoughts?
What about preferring a social networking profile to cubic-zirconia?
What’s next for Indian Jewelry?
We’re about to go on a tour West right now in February 2012. Then Mexico City, SxSW, and Psych Fest. We made a record in 2011 and soon we hope to be finishing the artwork. We’ve made a lot of videos. We have been working on a band called Coxcombs for a couple years now. Beyond that … you never know.
When we last checked in on the shape-shifting, convention-defying, mighty, musical mystery that is Datura Blues, we had been shaken by the seismic sonics emanating from their Pacific Northwest locale, shaken in particular by their commanding EP entitled “Damn These Shackles of Gravity!”
At the time, we were at a loss to properly describe the collective’s controlled chaos – moving as nimbly as it does from moment-to-moment within song-after-song, never resting in one area too long, as if its sound is propelled not only by amplification, but also by the fear of becoming sonically complacent, a fear the band keeps at bay with absurd consistency.
Nearly one year later, we’re no closer to finding the proper words to describe Datura Blues. Luckily, two of the brothers of blues themselves – Oryan Peterson and Andrew Pritchard – have provided us all the clues we could ever need. Enjoy.
We’ll have to admit to knowing relatively little – actually, nothing – about plants and plant life (though we enjoy the music of both Herbcraft and The Seeds). What can you tell us about the botanical connection of the name, Datura Blues? Is there a personal element to the choice in band name?
“Then Buddha accepted alms in his bowl, offered by the goddess who dwelt in the Datura grove, and he blessed her with benedictions…” – The Buddha-Karita
ORYAN: The above quote, a scene depicting Buddha making love to a goddess beneath Datura trees … That and a famous portrait of Shiva as Nataraja, in which the Cosmic Dancer is draped with bell shaped flowers. These were our earliest introductions to Datura. Its relationship to dieties, references in Mythology. Upon further research we discovered it had a sort of nefarious reputation in both New and Old World cultures: Embraced by witches in Europe, in West Africa and the Caribbean by Shamans, as a deceptive spirit guide in Casteneda lore. One of its common nicknames, Angel’s Trumpet, is a reference to the Book of Revelation. Early members of Datura Blues found inspiration in exploring various dichotomies. Despite Datura’s seemingly dark-natured disposition, it is actually a specimen of flora that leaches heavy metal toxins from the soil. Stems, seeds, roots, flowers … every part is deadly poisonous but it purifies the Earth of Human contamination! The symbolic nature and significance of Datura representing both destructive and healing powers was recognized as an appropriate coat of arms.
The “band” was formed to address that same balance (or lack thereof,) within social constructs. Datura Blues’ architects essentially saw Western Culture’s obsession with Rock and Roll as an opportunity to subversively reach people through a popular artistic medium, while pursuing a motivated effort to induce catharsis. That particular idealism expanded to assimilating the imagery, worldviews and customs of other cultures into our theatrical devices. Concerts were observed more as musical ceremonies, everything was ritualized … I always enjoyed the implication of Datura, the plant and band name, having pan-global metaphorical interpretations …
Similarly, we cannot profess having anything beyond a rudimentary – and perhaps intensely personal – understanding of what is commonly referred to as “the blues.” What was the thought behind using a word with so much history (some might say baggage) in the name of your band? What, if anything, does the concept of “the blues” mean to you?
ANDREW: “The Blues” is loaded with various degrees and types of meaning. From the casual listener to the aficionado to the Genuine Bluesman, anyone who has heard Datura Blues, either live or on record, knows that we are not a “blues band” in the traditional sense. We do not use twelve bar, I, IV, V progressions, nor do we currently lyrically engage the themes typically associated with the Blues. I listen to, and love, Mississippi John Hurt, Leadbelly, and Elmore James and I think they’ve got all that pretty well covered, thank you very much. The “blues” in Datura Blues acknowledges the lineage, or roots, of Datura Blues. Like Muddy Waters sings, “The blues had a baby, and they named that baby Rock & Roll.” Though stripped of a precise musicological connection to the blues style, I think that a lot of our music expresses universal blues feelings – the pain of existence vs. the despair of nonbeing, yearning, radiant joy, hope, loss, and exalted states of being. Our music has the blues in the way that “Guernica,” Munch’s “The Scream,” or Jackson Pollock have the blues. It all comes from the same wonderful, unfathomable, and mysterious place. Heart. Soul Spirit. Anima. Whatever you want to call it.
ORYAN: We try and emulate Blues musicians with sincerity … as colorful storytellers, travelling bards, stewards of culture. To, in turn, develop and pass on our own Mythology. As music, the Blues are eviscerating roots, networking miles deep and eventually reaching the source of rock and roll. As an emotive storytelling device, Blues evoke Saudade, inexplicable longing, nostalgia. It demands we acknowledge the Universe’s less attractive features … I also have a romantic view of the Robert Johnson crossroads myth. Sacrifice. Playing in this group definitely involves sacrificing a bit of one’s Soul.
Is it appropriate to define Datura Blues as a “collective,” one with a membership that expands and contracts with each project? What are the positive and negative aspects to this model of producing your art?
ANDREW: Creative destruction keeps things fresh and keeps you on your toes and ideally ensures that you’ll meet other musicians whose ideas will teach you to be a better player and person. Yet it is sometimes frustrating to not be able to consistently play out certain older songs-good songs which feel great to play-because everybody can’t know everything.
ORYAN: It would be safe to say that a collective tenet was scribbled into our original gospel … Datura Blues have always been more concerned with including people than with impressing them. The group has been an excuse to blur the lines, to explore the exotic, to establish lasting relationships. We are a community, so of course we want to involve as many folks as possible. There is usually a core of three or four people that steer the song writing process and an entire bloodline of satellite members who contribute to recordings or performances as their schedules allow. Ultimately, however, Datura Blues operates and exists beyond its Founding Fathers, beyond its present and future donors.
The Positive: Keeps you on your toes, every performance is a challenge, keeps us humble, our Family is always growing. We have had over 40 contributors over the past 12 years. An evolving membership also understands that connections are malleable. How we identify with ourselves, with others, or how we behave day to day … Datura Blues maintain strong friendships, despite challenges such as distance, time, or space.
The Negative: Obviously, not being able to commit to one set of material for too long. Certain songs can only be performed under certain conditions, with certain personnel or instrumentation. It can also be a little sad, getting so close to people over the years only to watch them mature past the group and move on, (though many former members still participate in some fashion.)
What are your own experiences with musical projects, both preceding the existence of Datura Blues and outside of Datura Blues? Can you recall the first live music experience of your life that made the most impact on yourself? What was it about that experience that made it so memorable or impressive for you?
ORYAN: An early live music experience that greatly impacted my life? That would be my first local punk show in 1994 (I feel extremely lucky to have grown up within a scene that accepted the all ages community with open arms.) There was a band on the bill called Couch of Eureka, whose singer also played a stand-up drum kit. He had huge blonde dreads and he was beating the shit out of his snare and crash cymbal … then he starts throwing up all over the snare, and in true punk rock form, never misses a beat! I remember looking up at the stage to see puke launching from this drum head onto the crowd. Sticks pounding, dreads suspended in slow motion … LOUD as all Hell! That was a powerful moment … Having cut my teeth on what was considered by many at the time to be a golden era of music in Humboldt County, I came from what was fondly referred to as the Punk scene. Although the term really did represent more of an idea than an aesthetic. This meant bands that identified with anything other than Blues, Funk, Reggae or the Grateful Dead fell under the “Punk” blanket moniker. Members of my high school band, Elysium, were just as high on classic rock, Hendrix and The Moody Blues as we were Operation Ivy, Siren and NoMeansNo. But we played shows with metal bands, ska bands, experimental pop bands, harsh noise bands and real, dirt-under-the-nails punk bands. I started booking benefit concerts for the Arcata Skate Park when I was fifteen years old and had the honor of working with two of my all-time favorite musicians, Ben Chasny (Six Organs of Admittance,) and Ethan Miller (Comets on Fire, Howlin’Rain,) before they left Humboldt for greener pastures. In college I assembled a noise collective called the Medieval Jug Band that taught me the in’s and out’s of communicating with a group whose roster, instrumentation and material fluctuated from one gig to the next … By the time we started Datura Blues, Owen Ott III and I had been playing together for years in formal and traditional rock outfits. Datura Blues was conceived with this sort of back to basics, DIY, grassroots ethos. Dirty, noisy, sloppy, collective-sprited punk rock.
Beast, Please be Still is a Datura Blues pseudoymn/sister act I formed with the intention of having more space to explore improvisation … Since 1999, I have been playing solo classical guitar as Die Geister Beschworen (Summon the Spirits).
ANDREW: I recorded boxes of tapes with people in Boston and Chicago that were never heard beyond the living room or basement- a lot of ponderous improv that was never supposed to be heard beyond those spaces. I was also half of a couple of somewhat structured psych rock duos that fellapart when life happened. I could never pinpoint what, exactly, I wanted in or from a musical collaboration. Then life happened, I ended up in Portland, met the guys in Datura Blues, and realized, ” Ah, yes, that’s exactly what I want.” Currently, I also play bass and slide guitar in Rainbow Riders, which showcases the work of my friend, the talented singer/songwriter David Coffman, who, not coincidentally, has become a regular contributor to the Datura Blues. I’ve also recently become involved with another mostly instrumental group, Stoker. More generally, my experience with musical projects has shown me how to live; the wisdom of improv permeates my life. How to listen, how to live in the moment, how to (hopefully) work well with others, patience, and how to pay attention to the vibrations that suffuse our environment and are us are musical lessons I can directly apply whether or not I’m holding an instrument.
What is the origin of the title of your EP, “Damn These Shackles of Gravity”? When it comes to determining song titles and such as part of a collective … how does that work?
ORYAN: Datura Blues recordings always point to the psychological state of the band … Songs and albums have working titles until we give them context. We then correlate titles with connected themes … “Damn These Shackles of Gravity!” concludes a third and final act dedicated to the element of Air: Transition, rapid and unexpected movement, chaos, departure, Ascension … The first two works are, “Is It As It Is, Brother?” (a CD release) and “Is It As It Is, Sister?” (a DVD documenting the band’s 2007 tour of Eastern Europe.) All three projects are dedicated to a former Datura Blues satellite member, Polish photojournalist/ethnologist Lucas Jaworski, who contributed tracks to two Datura Blues albums and remains a source of inspiration. In 2010, Lucas passed away after a tragic fall while on location in Ethiopia, an event which spurred this devoted trilogy.
Looking back across the entirety of music created by Datura Blues over the years, do you see certain patterns or eras emerge? How do you explain the sound of the band to the uninitiated? What is the most off-base comparison you have ever heard someone make regarding the music of Datura Blues?
ORYAN: Since we’ve always prided ourselves on being difficult to categorize I don’t know that I’ve ever heard an unsound comparison. Some of my favorites have been to: Danny Elfman, Guns N’Roses, The Wicker Man, Morricone, New Age nature soundtracks, Comets on Fire … Someone once recounted a particular set of ours as being similar to “swimming with dolphins, only to realize you’re being circled by sharks,” which I have always found amusing. The band itself may be a means to a end but it is also an evolutionary process, often unpredictable. There’s a lot of ebb and flow, uncertainty, improvisation. There have been similar personality types, in regards to members, but other than that I haven’t noticed many patterns among the various incarnations. I would describe Datura Blues to the uninitiated as a steam engine without brakes.
What music have you been listening to lately? Push comes to shove, what is your favorite Midday Veil song?
ANDREW: All things Grails have been in heavy rotation since I first discovered them several years ago. I’ve been listening to the debut album from Dusu Mali,a newish Portland band lead by a guitar ripper from Mali. It’s a solid hybrid of West African Rhythms and western rock styles. It’s distinct from Afro-beat, which is always close to my stereo, but still groovy in the right way. More generally I’ve been into any and all kinds of spiritual music, but I don’t mean just stuff that’s explicitly spiritual, such as gospel or classical Indian music, though I listen to that too. Spiritual music, for me, is any music that’s sanctified, that I perceive as coming from a genuine place of open-heartedness, or that consciously or inadvertently cultivates a spiritual state of consciousness. As with the blues, it’s more about a feeling than a precise technical thing, though, not coincidentally, the blues and the “spiritual music” – sometimes one and the same – that I prefer, use many of the same techniques to create that feeling, go to that place, or alter that state of consciousness. It’s why I listen to Midday Veil all the time, and I’m not just saying that because that’s your follow up question. Seriously, my household now owns their first record on CD and vinyl. I’m gonna cheat, just a little, and say that my favorite Midday Veil song is two songs, “Asymptote (Part 1)” and “Asymptote (Part2),” but to me they are really just one song because Part 1 builds the infrastructure for the headspace that Part 2 explores. I remember the first time we played a show together they played this song. I was already into what they were doing that night, and then they played this song. It was one of those rare times when you remember the exact moment when you become a fan of a band. The geometry of that guitar riff plus that groove plus those vocals triggers the light show in my mind every time.
ORYAN: I like to consider myself as having a finger on the pulse of the Pacific-Northwest scene. Between booking/promoting events around Portland and hosting a weekly radio program featuring experimental sounds exclusively from the Left Coast, I am very familiar with my native musical terrain. But to be honest, for enjoyment, these days I only listen to the local classical station.
If you could ask one musician – or one group of musicians – to become part of the Datura Blues collective, who would it be and why?
ANDREW: Pharoah Sanders. This was a tough question at first. Initially, I wanted to say the entire lineup from Bitches Brew era Miles Davis, or mid-sixties Coltrane, for all of the obvious reasons that make those two of the more beloved groups in music history. Though it’s certainly a personal fantasy for me to play with those groups, I think those groups, collectively, had such strong personalities, with towering figures full of huge ideas as their respective band leaders that I’d be slightly concerned about the “too many cooks in the kitchen” phenomenon. Only slightly, though. Pharoah Sanders is one of the most amazing, inspirational soloists I have ever heard on any instrument. He is truly sanctified, melodically empathetic, and you can tell that every note he breathes into a saxophone comes from a place of genuine open-hearted love. I always feel that his performances, especially the recordings with Alice Coltrane and John Coltrane, make intense, profound music even more intense, profound, and moving. Regardless of who he plays with, his sax just FEELS more elevated and expresses a reverence, a depth of meaning, a holy yearning, as well as a beatific grandiloquence that consistently sends shivers down my spine and makes me think about the ways in which one could or should access higher power. Which is to say he would be perfect for Datura Blues. I just assume he’s one of those players whose mere being raises the level of play of all involved. Given our musical interests, habits, and desires, as well as the fact that we have a terrific sax player, Todd Swikart, who loves playing with other horn players, a serial collaborator such as Pharoah Sanders would be a great fit.
ORYAN: Ted Neeley (Jesus Christ Superstar)!
We’ve seen one of the defining tenets of Datura Blues described as “compassion towards one’s demons rather than hatred.” Can you elaborate on this idea for us? How does this train of thought impact your life, both from a musical and from a personal perspective? We’re reminded of the words of two legendary weirdos, both of whom we believe had tremendous Hawkwind collections. First, Friedrich Nietzsche opined, “Be careful, lest in casting out your demon you exorcise the best thing in you.” And was it not Monster Magnet mainman Dave Wyndorf who advised, “If you want to spank your demons and make them pay, then baby, I’m your man of the hour”? Your thoughts?
“Beast, Please be Still …” is a Datura Blues Mantra borrowed from our 2003 album “Master the Tempest is Raging!” It is basically just a poetic rendering of the Golden Rule. For my senior thesis, I spun the mantra into a conceptual web of mythological relevance, coloring it as a sought after cultural trend. Every culture reacts to its demons in unique ways. Some respond with reverence and respect, others with fear or hostility. Addressing these differences gave BPBS a metaphorical purpose and provided Datura Blues with an empathetic focal point. Observing one’s own struggles, failings and limitations in others establishes common ground. Issues become less daunting, more manageable. Being humble, exercising humility, balancing temperament, demonstrating patience, acknowledging impermanence and accepting imperfection are foundations for real social dialogue. Tame the Beast with grace and modesty and it will cease to be your enemy … offer it respect and you may discover a potential and valuable ally.
What’s next for Datura Blues?
ORYAN: Ted Neeley is approaching seventy, we should probably catch up with him soon …
There’s less than an ounce of our being that believes we can properly explain the music of April in the Orange – explanation being an effort notably more strenuous than description.
For a description, we will be safe in declaring April in the Orange a magickal combination of fine forest folk and cosmically constructed drone.
For a description, we need look no further than the subhead provided by the duo itself at their online home – “April in the Orange, or autumnal psychedelia and the anachronistic devotion to the luminous void.”
For a description, we have no hesitation saying that the songs of April in the Orange – born on the mighty banks of the the Genesee river, living lyrically on their cassette entitled “When A River Meets the Sea” – represent absolutely breathtaking gems in that imaginary, jeweled throne of autumnal psychedelia, and divine droning devotionals to the luminous void.
But an explanation of April in the Orange? Not today. Perhaps not ever. Not that we want it this way. We would love to tell you exactly why it is that a song like “Sleeping Buffalo Grass” fills us with a complex combination of comfort, longing and awe, why we feel as much energy in the chiming, charge of guitar that opens the song as we would in a million metallic marches, or even why it feels – just at the moment the song drifts toward domineering drone – that all the mysteries of the universe are just seconds away from being answered.
Of course, they never are. But the elation of those seconds will keep us listening to April in the Orange for many hours to come. Understood?
“I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teaching my blood whispers to me.” – Hermann “Hawkwind” Hesse, Demian
Revolt of the Apes 
