Interview + Track Premier, with Peace De Résistance

Peace de Résistance is the solo recording project of Mose Brown. Best known for fronting the punk band Institute and playing drums in the hardcore outfit Glue, Brown has drifted from his roots to create “demented glam rock” for the 2020’s. Following the 2020 demo tape Hedgemakers, Brown is self-releasing the project’s first full length LP, Bits and Pieces on his very own newly minted label, Peace de Records. Today the world gets a second peek into the full length, with the release of the second single off the record, “Alphabet Au Pair”. 

With heavy nods towards The Velvet Underground, “Alphabet Au Pair” is a dreamy snarl towards the “privacy iconoclast” Alexa- as in the Amazon’s voice assistant, not a typical femme muse. The albums leans into a romanced anxiety about what it means to be a modern person: surveilled, uninsured and overworked.

Listen to “Alphabet Au Pair” from the debut LP “Bits and Pieces” out April 13th on Peace De Récords below, while you check out the first ever interview about Peace de Résistance.

Mose and I sat down at his dinner table for the first ever Peace de Résistance interview over some cauliflower rice and sweet potatoes to discuss where the project comes from, how music is like scent and what his go-to bodega order is. Just in case we ever get a live show, you’ll know what to bring as a token of appreciation.

Jane Pain (JP): I did not hear anything about Peace De Résistance until the demo (Hedgemakers, Glue Records, 2020) was announced and I was an instant fan. And I am your partner’s sister and your close friend! I want to know a bit about where the project came from.

Was it a quick inspiration that blurted out in Covid isolation? What was the inception of everything?

Moses Brown (MB): The tape was me just learning to record at home. Barry (Institute, Chalk) told me how he recorded everything, which is passing through a four track that goes into the headphone jack in a computer without recording onto tape. So it gets all warm and stuff, but you don’t have to deal with recording on tape.The first demo was just me playing around with that set up. Blowing out the channel of the four track.

JP: So it was you, locked up in the attic just kinda making something to make it?

MB: Definitely wanting to shake the cobwebs and freshen up my songwriting skills and try to do something completely different. I would get a guitar tone, realize that it sounded stupid and was like… ‘Lets go with that!’. Trying to do dumb, extreme choices. I was like ‘this feels good, I like this’. 

JP: So this was fun to do?

MB: So fun to do. 

JP: I am glad that you found a bright spot at that time. Were you surprised by people’s response to the demo? I feel like it was kind of an internet darling and people really responded to it. 

MB: Definitely, because it was recorded so badly I was like… ‘People like this’? The thing that bugs me still is the drums. The drums sound like trash, because they were recorded with one microphone. If I had recorded the drums with Sasha (Artifact Studios. Firewalker/ 80HD)  or something, I would have felt different but I just felt like they were bad. 

JP: And that is hard, because that is your main instrument. Did you record them in the attic here (Brown’s Bed-Stuy apartment)?
MB: Glue had a practice space, so I went in there one day during the height of lockdown. I remember going in there with gloves on and full gear and realizing that someone had been in there at 11AM… and it was 5PM and I was like “OH NO!”. 

I just had one mic, recorded the drums. I used a glass bottle of Michels of Brooklyn pasta sauce. That is the “ding ding ding”. 

JP: That studio situation elicits so many memories that feel so far away. When doing anything, it felt scary and naughty. When we were washing our groceries. 

The LP (Bits and Pieces, Peace De Récords) doesn’t strike me as having the same spirit of ‘I am just going to record this shitty and get it out’. What changed in your attitude between the tape and deciding to do the LP? What were you setting out to do when you first started writing the LP? 

MB: I guess, people liking the tape. Specifically, friends really liked the tape and gave me confidence that I could do more songs. The song quality on the demo was bugging me a little bit, and I knew I could record a bit better. Then I realized that I had ten songs, and thirty minutes of music and it was going to be an LP. 

JP: Well, I am stoked on that, because I was one of those friends, and I was really hoping that there would be more. 

I was really honored when you asked me to take the picture for the cover of Bits and Pieces. I got even more excited when you sent me the LP and I got to listen. 

 I know we were going for a timelessness, and a glam look and whatnot with the cover. Institute releases always have your art on the cover. What was behind your decision to have a photograph of yourself on the cover? 

MB: I wanted to dive in real hard to the solo album thing: here is a picture of the person who made it. I wanted the record to look super classic. 

JP: Why did you self release it, on top of that?
MB: I don’t even know when in the process I decided that was what I was going to do. But, I just realized… I did the tape? I could do an LP? And working with Sacred Bones and other small labels made me realize that if I am not going to play a show ever or tour or do much promotion I should do it myself. If this flops, I want the responsibility to be in my lap. I wouldn’t want to ask someone to put it out and not play any shows, not want to talk about it. I realized I can do this myself and I don’t have to bother anybody.

JP: I guess you have not gotten to the part where you are sending these records out yet, but so far, what has the process of putting out your own LP of your own music been? What have you learned along the way? 

MB: It takes a long time. I gave the pressing plant everything in July and now, hopefully, the records are sent out in the next couple weeks. Fingers crossed. It cost a lot to do, about $3,000.

Being the one person talking to the record plant was a lot. They don’t have a relationship with me. I probably got sidelined as the weird dude who is just putting out one record. 

JP: You mentioned you did have a little snafu with the album design as well…

MB: Yes, I misplaced the accent on Resistance and I had to fix it with a sticker. 
JP: I had to personally place a sticker on all the FKA Twigs records that did not have the FKA back when I worked shipping records for the  Beggar’s Group. I don’t think it is that uncommon, and thankfully a sort of easy fix.

Do you have a plan for the label? Is it a home for all of your side projects? Do you want to release music from other people?

MB: I think it will just be a vessel for this project, but I don’t know. We will see. Now that it is all on the books…  How do you pay other people?  Tax stuff? I don’t want to figure that out. 

JP: When I think about some of the people who run labels, I have faith you can figure it out. You just mentioned that there isn’t a plan to play live, but is there any desire to do that… at all? 

MB:  Maybe it would be fun to play live with a band, but I would want it to be something special. Recreating the LP live wouldn’t be that much fun. I would be bothered by everything that was missing. Like ‘there isn’t that synth thing there… Where’s the cowbell?’ I need that. I would think that if I was to perform live it would be something totally different. I love the juxtaposition of recorded Velvet Underground versus the super rough bootleg live recordings…. Maybe I can do something like that. 

JP: That sounds really cool and like a good development of the music, considering the spirit of it. I hope that happens! 

Did it feel like a challenge playing everything by yourself, or does that just come naturally? 

MB: There were definitely times with the guitar where I thought I physically couldn’t play the parts. Coming up with what I was looking for and then… Oops, I can’t play it though. That was the only hard part, really. But it was fun. 

JP: Margaret (Brown’s partner, my sister, who also works on Pharmakon in said sauna studio) told me the attic that you guys use as a studio can get up to 120 degrees, with no windows, and you can’t stand in the studio in parts of the studio because the ceiling is slanted… and that your computer is a piece of shit… 

Was there any romance in that? I have been in less than ideal situations trying to make or record something and for some reason the challenges seem to add character and strengthen the memory of the experience. It can also just be funny and makes a good story. Like the time my drummer had to record with a mattress leaning on his back. Did the circumstances feel like part of the process or was it just frustrating to be trapped in a sweltering attic with a computer that is breaking down?

MB: It was kinda fun. The only problem is that you have to run a loud ass fan to stay cool. Thankfully everything was direct in, so I don’t think it showed up on the recording. 

JP: Were there any unlikely inspirations that worked their way into the LP?
MB: Madonna, “Ray of Light”. 

JP: That is a really good song, I can’t blame you.

I am thinking about all the accents that are on the record, so it was funny learning that there was a jar of pasta sauce used on the demo. Are there any other sonic inspirations? Or reading a book? I noticed that the last song includes “Journey To The End Of The Night”, which made me wonder if it was a reference to Celine. 

MB: It was definitely a nod! But the song doesn’t really have anything to do with the book. It is a morbid song, and that whole book is very morbid. And sad. 

JP: Darby [one of Mose’s cats] came out, because she is waiting to be name dropped. 

MB: Hi, Darby! You inspired a song. 

JP: Is Institute still a band?
MB: Oh, yeah. I think that Arak and I are going to start recording things at home. Once we move and I have a new studio. Do Institute, but write by recording it at home and then going into the studio and record a new LP. That process worked so well, I realized Institute needs to be doing it.

JP: I can imagine that working well for you guys, especially being spread out in different parts of the country. 

MB: Lower pressure, that is what I am all about. 

JP: Is Peace De Résistance your moniker that encapsulates all your solo endeavors, and Peace de Récords the vehicle? Have you thought about that at all?

MB: No, not really. All I know is I want to do this Lp and then put out another LP of this stuff. That’s the only goal that I can see right now. 

JP: Are you excited to share this record with people? 

MB: Totally. Even based on the first single, I had people say that they really liked it. Well, if they like that one, they are going to like the rest of them! 

JP: Having listened to the record a lot, I can attest that is true. But I like that confidence. 

I know you do visual art as well… Have you been working on visual art lately? 

MB: No. That was the thing. But I just made a lot of music and decided I was just going to focus on that. 

JP: I almost feel like all mixed media artists had to focus in on one thing, or lean into one thing heavier. 

MB: I don’t know what it was about the pandemic, but I could only pick one thing. 

JP: I felt like I needed an escape, and for that reason I was more compelled to make things that helped me escape. I can see music as being more stimulating and exciting and transport you outside of your head a bit more than working on drawings. 

MB: I would draw and be like… What are these drawings going to be for? There is no record? There are no flyers, there are no shows happening? 

JP: This will be my first published interview since the pandemic, so it feels like I have to talk about it. Since there were no shows, what got you through the past two years, hobby wise? Did you learn how to bake bread? 

MB: We {Mose and his partner} started going camping. Me and Margaret tried to learn how to surf, your Dad was teaching us how to surf. Going to the beach. It was such a chill zone. 

JP: Yeah, especially the first summer, the only joy I experienced was going to the beach. I wanted to go as much as humanly possible. 

But I did want to talk a bit about the lack of shows, specifically, and how the role that music plays in your life right now may differ than before the pandemic hit. We have live shows again, in spurts between infection spikes. Where does music fit into your life now? Did the pandemic factor into your decision to play things all alone?

MB: Before the pandemic, my whole world would be centered around when the next tour was, and the next place that we were going to go. I definitely miss that. Now instead of it being a means of traveling and stuff like that, it is a hobby that I get to do on Sunday. I just have to work all the time now, so what else am I supposed to do?
JP: Yeah, I guess if you are not touring all the time, you have to work your stupid job. I saw that a lot of your lyrics are about labor, actually. Do you mind speaking on that? 

MB: Totally. I would sit down and wonder what I wanted to write about. A lot of the songs are about tech and tech taking advantage of humanity and making money off of people, stealing their information and stuff. We are a motor to run their system. Why can’t we get paid? We need to make more money! 

The songs are definitely about the horrors of being alive and working right now. It is such a unique crazy period. And the inspiration for the lyrics were Cleaners from Venus. They are such well crafted pop songs, but they are lefty propaganda. 

JP: That was something that I really liked about the record too. The contrast of these warped pop songs with Crass records style, scathing lyrics. Something political and current in a package that is a bit more unsuspecting. 

MB: I think I needed to figure out a way to write about stuff. Lyrics need to be coming from you. I struggle with making a living, having health insurance, being agressively marketed to on the internet. 

JP: How does being at a show feel to you right now?  Do you feel like something has changed?
MB: Yeah, it is crazy to be back at shows. Touring still seems crazy to me, because I am going to inevitably get sick and then what do we do? Do we just cancel shows for five days? 

JP: I guess you just hide out in a Motel 6 and sweat it out. SXSW was last week and I started to see Covid declarations on twitter today. 

MB: Yeah, everyone probably got sick. That is just what happens now.

It is weird. Seeing MANAT a couple of nights ago was amazing, but at the same time I was being smooshed. I was two feet away from two dozen people. And everyone is screaming. It was freaking me out a little bit.

JP: You felt freaked out?

MB: In little glimpses. But it was too fun to worry about too much at the moment. 

JP: I did get particularly smooshed at that show. I am covered in bruises, including two really bad ones in a perfect line across my legs where I was being smashed into the stage.

MB: It was good just to hear music, loud. 

JP: I think everyone used to take shows for granted, because we never really thought that something like this was going to happen in our lifetimes. But going to shows now really makes me remember why I was attracted to punk and noise and live music in the first place. I feel like I have turned back into 13 year old Jane who would go to ABC NO RIO every Saturday no matter what, sober, and so fucking excited about whatever the fuck was goling on. I have that energy. Every show feels special and new again. Do shows feel special to you, after having them gone? 

MB: Totally. But also, I used to stand and watch everybody. After not going to shows for two years, I realized that if I don’t want to watch something, I do not have to stand there and watch everything. I will protect my ears. 

JP: Do you have any high hopes for summer? Spring is here and it feels like a really exciting time, and like we are going to step into a lot of experiences that we have been missing for years and a new chapter in our lives and music.

MB: Everyone has been cooped up, doing stuff. I just hope to come into summer and find out that all of my friends have been doing amazing shit. 

JP: I have been wondering if inflation will cause another big uprising this summer. What the fuck is going on? It is happening so quickly and dramatically. It makes me wonder if we are about to hit another Great Depression even more dramatic and messed up than the first, because of how much the world has changed since then and how many more bills we have gotten accustomed to paying.

I wondered if an undercurrent of collective malcontent in our country was in the Bits and Pieces

MB: Why is minimum wage in Texas still $7.25. Billionaires make so much more money, but workers have been making the same amount of money for fifteen years. The math doesn’t add up. 

JP: And the people we exalted as our essential workers are bearing the burden of being underpaid the worst. Being told that they can’t take time off if they have active covid. Transparently evil. 

On that note, what is the ideal function of music in your life? It certainly eases the pain of this reality.

MB: I don’t know. Music is just the best thing ever. It is to enjoy. It is magical. It is crazy. It is like smell or something, where the weird tone of a guitar can make you think of something. 

JP: Wow, I never thought of it like that before. The way music works on the mind and how scent works with memory is really similar. 

MB: When I like something a lot,  it feels mysterious and nostalgic. It is channeling something, reverberating deep in some part of me. I don’t know what that is.

JP: I can think of music that will always remind me of a super specific time, burned into my memory as a feeling. No matter how many times I heard it before or after, it is associated with this one time. Do you have any musical memories like that? 

MB: My Dad loved Public Image Ltd a whole bunch and I had second edition on CD. I had a CD player alarm clock. And I remember bringing it outside and skating a ramp in my front yard. Whenever I hear “No Birds” it feels like my CD player alarm clock is playing this, and I am doing an axle stall. 

JP: Hell yeah. That is so sweet. For a while now, I always ask an off hand last question and I like them to be about snacks. 

MB: “Fuck pirates booty….”

JP: I am going to fancy deli, do you want anything? 

MB: I am going to need extra cheez-its. And ice cream, honestly. I fuck with it. I recently became obsessed with it. And, a snack to me, is a deli sandwich. 

JP: Ice cream is a drug like food. Having something that is that indulgent, and cold. It is an experience. Well, let’s leave off on this: what is your favorite ice cream flavor?
MB: Chocolate fudge brownie. Gimme all the different chocolates. 

All photography by Jane “Pain” Chardiet. Do not reproduce without permission.

Interview with Special Interest

TRUST NO WAVE

It is Saturday night in New York City, and Special Interest have come from New Orleans to share a bill with gay hardcore heroes Limpwrist. They are gracious enough to speak to me in the green room as they prepare for the gig. The drummer of Exotica (who are opening the show) powders a canary yellow latex dress for guitarist Maria Elena Delgado before assisting with getting the darn thing on- you know the struggle if you wear latex yourself, especially in the summertime. Vocalist Alli Logout has a friend applying ferocious eyeliner for the stage, and has to do most of the interview with their head tilted back and their eyes closed. Other bands and friends begin to filter in backstage, and I can not let the opportunity to speak to Special Interest slip through my fingers, but I am suddenly intimidated by the task. Because Special Interest are important.

They exude revelry and raunch but are also utterly devastatingly honest. Honest about things like a mental breakdown and subsequent institutionalization, about systematic racism, the thrill of a great fuck. Special Interest do an unparalleled job at challenging dire political and cultural concerns while maintaining a distinctive spirit, equal parts celebratory and confrontational, both live and recorded.

While they tell me that they were influenced by bands like The Screamers and early LA punk, they are incredibly refreshingly their own. No one sounds like Special Interest, for real. The discord of Maria’s guitar work somehow perfectly compliments Ruth Ex’s electronic drums and synth, which replace a live drummer in this psycho-punk “No Wave” outfit. We talked about some of the annoyances of being a “Queer band”, favorite regional culinary delights and which member is a recovering Oogle.

Jane Pain: How did you guys get together, and did you have any specific intentions sonically, thematically or otherwise for your music?

Maria: Alli and I met in Denton, Texas before either of us moved to New Orleans. We put together a band for Not Enough Fest which was organized by Osa Atoe. I moved to New Orleans and Alli moved not long after. We were like ‘let’s start a band’ and it was just the two of us. Originally I asked Nathan, and then Ruth ‘Can we have a band that sounds like The Screamers?’, and it never did.

Ruth: I don’t remember you saying The Screamers thing… Maybe I just didn’t get the memo.

Well maybe now we know why you don’t sound like The Screamers?

Alli: We both played guitar in the original line up. Maria played the guitar more though, I played mostly with a power tool.

Was this an incarnation of Special Interest or proto Special Interest?

A: Special Interest was a two piece.

How did you feel walking away from your first practice? Did you know that you had something special?

Nathan: It was a lot of messing around at first.

Ruth: I felt really nervous because I had never been in a band before. I did not feel good after the first few practices.

It is super sick that you guys are playing with Limpwrist. They are a very important band to me and I am sure to a lot of other queer hardcore kids. I found them when I needed to. It helped me to know that they existed.

In my research, I found you talking about how you understandably don’t want to be defined as a band by your personal politics or sexual identity or marginalized by being a queer band. I know that it is hard for people to look past that, even when they are being supportive of it. Would you rather exist as a band now, possibly being pigeonholed but also making a difference by offering visability for a lot of people or would you prefer to be a band in some distant ideal future, where you can just be a fucking band in the same way that a white straight dude can be in a band, and it is about nothing else except what you play.

N: I wasn’t old enough, so I wasn’t there but I feel like in the early L.A. punk scene there was a lot of experimentation going on and there were a lot queers in bands, a lot of women in bands, a lot of brown people in bands and it was probably just because it was L.A. in the late 70’s, but that has always been really interesting to me. How it just happened. Very much pre-identity politics, in a way.

M: It was also in a time where things were actually multi-cultural . That is sadly not the case now, not that many people have a special thing where things are actually diverse.

N: That scene also went away very quickly went away. Things turned into California hardcore, and it was just kinda gone.

It’s almost like it got ruined by it’s own awareness, or when things got recognized.

N: Yeah. Limpwrist was important to me too. I moved to Montreal when I was 18 and took a bus to Toronto and saw them play at Vazaleen which was a Will Munro party. He passed away from cancer in 2010.

He did these parties in Toronto, and Vazaleen was queer rock n’ roll and queer punk parties. I only got to see the party in tail end, but I have never seen it work quite as well as it did back then. Maybe now going to a club now and hearing Peaches would not be my cup of tea at all, but at the time it was fun and wild. It was cool, about 2005.

I then got to see them in Olneyville in Providence a year later… Another wild show in San Francisco that was a warehouse eviction party that was completely insane.

A: When I was 16 I got my first leather jacket, and on the sleeve I had Limpwrist with a pink triangle. On the back I had the DRI thrashing guy. It was really important to me when I was first getting into punk to find queer bands.

First and foremost, when I got into punk I called it guitar music. As a teenage I felt like I liked it, but I just wished there were more black people. My friend put his hand on my shoulder and was like ‘Alli, the founders of hardcore punk were all black!’ and put on the Bad Brains and it was all over for me. Completely over for me. But it was important for me to duelve into all the black members of the early 80’s hardcore scene and find my way into the queer spectrum, and in that I found Limpwrist.

Honestly, Limpwrist was one of the only good gay bands. I really hate playing with other bands that are gay because we get booked on shows with bands that are gay, because we are gay and it has nothing to do with anything else. And there are a lot of bad bands. I don’t care if you’re gay or you’re not, if you band is bad your band is bad.

A: But we just want to play with good bands. We want to play with bands that we admire.

M: You can see that with us playing with Boy Harsher, a band that it very unalike us.

N: I guess to answer your question, we are a future band.

A: I wouldn’t want to exist in any time but now. You said something about existing in a time in punk where you are just a band and it’s not about identity or any of that… It’s not the goal. I am so happy we are here right now, because we are on the brink of a major collapse of everything. I think that what we are doing speaks to that. I want complete, total destruction of everything. I don’t want to live in a time where people are not thinking about what is happening. Everybody is always going to get beat up for being whatever.

I am excited to be alive right now. For so much of my life I didn’t even think that I would make it to see 26. Everybody who is queer, everyone who is trans, everybody who is black… You don’t think that you are going to make it because the state is literally trying to kill us. All of the time. Every corner.

M: We also did not want to play with straight people. None of us wanted to play music with straight people.

R: You mean, within the band? Yes. That is very intentional.

Speaking to collapse, and not thinking that you would make it this far… Was ‘Spiraling’ about starting over after the collapse, or was it about the collapse in it’s self.

A: The collapse. It was written pre-mental breakdown, and then post. I wrote a lot of the songs while I was in a psych ward and I was reading Assata Shakur’s autobiography…

In an institution, reading her autobiography about the state and the fuckery that she went through. I just wrote about everything I was feeling and everything going on around me. That is pretty much all I know how to write about. I feel like the way that everyone plays in this band, and the way that everyone came into music is a lot different than a lot of people.

Maria just started playing music.

M: When I turned 30.

A: And Ruth just started playing music… I remember your first show with your solo project. It was so incredible.

R: I started playing music to be in a band and start a band, so I guess it worked. I guess it was successful.

How does this band- the experience, the shows, writing music, interacting with each other… How does it support mental wellness for you? How does it exasperate it?

R: It definatley can do both of those things. I feel like the process of getting together and playing music feels really natural. There is very little verbal communication, we are all able to connect with one another. Being able to experience that is fucking cool, and feels really great.

We have a lot of good shows, but it’s always a crazy emotional rollercoaster. The response is always so different. The circumstances can be painful, so it is good to be around people that you like for the painful shows. Overall, it feels great. It is really cathartic and I feel like a lot of stuff that I can not verbalize about the condition of the world and how chaotic and fucked up things are, we are able to express that sonically, and that feels good.

N: Touring can be physically and mentally exhausting. That is the biggest thing for me. I like to be able to get out of New Orleans. My bands have taken me pretty much everywhere that I have been able to travel to in the world, and that is cool. But it also wears you down. It wears me down, at least, and I am not really built for it.

R: I feel like I have to get fucked up all the time just to deal with the stress with being around people when I am on tour. I am actively trying to figure out a way to negotiate that better, but that is a difficult thing to deal with.

I became sober, and that is one of the issues that comes up with my relationship to live music. It is strange to relearn how to go to shows and figuring out what I like and what I don’t like, socially. If I can’t handle something sober or don’t enjoy it as much sober, do I even really like it?
R:
Being at shows sober made me feel like I was 14 again and really intimidated by everyone.

M: It gets easier though. It took me like a year of not drinking. But honestly, just get a soda water, it’s easy. Just sitting alone feels good.

Sometimes the only alone time that I get is when we are on tour and we are in a place where I don’t know anybody and I just sit there alone. It is kind of amazing. We are always doing a bunch of shit at home.

And everybody knows each other and what everyone is doing.

A: New Orleans is a small town. It is so small and anything good in New Orleans is thrown by our little group of friends. All the good parties, all of the good shows.

It’s funny you should say that because I was talking with a friend last night and he was saying how you guys made the whole current scene in NOLA, that there wasn’t much else good going on. I wasn’t sure if that was reality or just his perspective of what is going on down there right now.

R: No, we are a product of the scene.

N: It might be sleepy, butt here are things going on.

A: It’s either usually been Oogles who are constantly leaving on a train or deep, deep weirdo post train kids. And then there are party queers. And we are a little mixture of everything.

It’s a mixture? Who is the Oogle?

A: [points to Ruth] She came into town on a train with a banjo. Sorry to call you out.

R:  I came to New Orleans when I was 19 with a banjo, it has been a wild ride, but here I am today. So you could do it too, kids! Drop that banjo…

A: You could be the party faggot of your dreams.

Would that be your advice to the children then? Drop the banjo?

R: Drop the banjo, get a shitty keyboard and that’s it.

True, true. I did want to ask about that tour with Boy Harsher, I know you guys touched on it. Was it super cool? I know Jae and Gus are fucking awesome, but how did that tour mesh with ‘their’ audience?

A: I am happy that we did it. How often are we going to have an opportunity to play with a band like that? We all thoroughly enjoy their music. Their crowd is either O.G. goths who were incredible and loved us and were really nice or what I call ‘children of the algorithm’. It’s cool. However you get into whatever you’re into is fine, but it was a lot.

I get really stressed out by how people fetishize me and my body and my presence. Especially on stage or in any kind of creative thing that I do. I was having a little bit harder of a time with it on that tour than on other tours.

I guess that was kind of what I was trying to get at with the second question. People who read about you on a blog or some hype and looking at who you are instead of what you are doing. Not that they do not genuinely enjoy what you are doing, but being preoccupied.

A: I like to think about if I saw myself on stage, at any age, I would be so esatic and excited. So it was fun to be able to play for people who really needed it, and to play for people who didn’t even know that they needed it. That is my favorite part of it.

M: We played for so many chicanos. That was super special for me.

A: But it still is how punk is, there is one or two black people at a show. And that is really intense for me.

N: It was cool to play places with really huge sound systems. But also I feel like you are playing these big venues and you just don’t get the same reaction as when you play smaller places. When you’re playing this huge stage people just don’t react the same way. Sometimes you have this gut reaction like ‘Fuck, they hate it.’, but I don’t think that is actually true. People are just weird and they don’t know what to do with themselves half the time.

R: It also automatically makes what you are doing a big spectacle. The intimacy is gone.

A: In Portland we played to so many people that is was awful. It was so extreme. I never thought that I would play to 800 people. It was really intense. And I looked out into the crowd and it was just a sea of white people and I was filled with rage. I hated it.

After so many shows I was like ‘we suck, we suck’, but finally we got to a city where we had friends and people were moving like how they do in New Orleans…

And you’re back.

A: We’re back… whew… It was such an intense shift. But Portland was intense.

I think I hate Portland?

A: I think Portland is really gorgeous.

R: I think also people who were not going to see us just don’t know what to do with us. They are like ‘It’s like a punk band, but it’s not a punk band all the way and I can kinda dance to it but I don’t know how’. When people are not familiar with it they get caught off guard.

And that could be kinda nice. Do you guys have plans for a new record?

N: Yeah, we are writing a new record now. We recorded three songs so far, and we are going to record again in a couple weeks. We are going to try and have it out by early next year. Early 2020. It sounds great so far, I think.

Any departure from the Special Interest we are used to?

N: When we started we were using this old Univox drum machine from the 70’s and we just completely cut that out. We recorded the last record with Quintron which was cool but also he has a lot of interesting ideas for analog production and mixing but the digital aspect of stuff is kind of new to him. We found someone else to record us in New Orleans and went and heard our drum machine through his system, and it was the shit, it’s over.

R: It’s like high definition. It’s more fucked up and mangled sounding, but clearer at the same time. It’s definatley more demented than the last one.

N: Yeah, I would say.

More demented! That sounds great! Yay!

R: We are not going soft.

Do you have any irrational fears? Is there anything that freaks you out?

M: DO WE.

R: This is a question for Ruth and Maria.

M: Girl… Ruth and I are the neuroses twins. We found out on this tour that we both hate space. Space makes both of us incredibly nervous.

Outer space?

M: Yep. Thinking about it… At all, pretty much.

I mean, it’s pretty fucking scary.

R: I hate sitting around a fire and talking to people if I do not know them really well, I think it is horrorfying, An intimate group conversation with people that I don’t know really well is hellish. I was looking at some skyscrapers yesterday on the train yesterday and while I was talking to my friend all I could think about was falling out of the window of a skyscraper. That’s really scary. Total irrational. I feel like when I look at anything I have a flash in my head about how I were to violently die if I were to get too close to it. That is pretty irrational.

Catastrophic thoughts.

R: Catastrophic thoughts, pretty compulsively.

I identify. How about a NOLA specific question. What is the most insane carnival experience that you have ever had?

A: I have to rack my brain, I don’t know but I love that question. As a group or individually?

Can be either.

A: The group one is Hanks.

R: If you have been to New Orleans you’re probably familiar with Hanks, the 24 hour fried chicken and liquor store. On Mardi Gras our friends in ULTRALITE set up a generator show in the parking lot of Hanks. We played with Alli in the back of a truck. We played the fucking parking lot and it went off without a hitch until someone set something on fire and we had to scatter.

M: One of NOLA’s best art punk bands.

N: You know what is crazy though… Someone had made this homemade float and they pushed it into the neutral ground, lit it on fire. It was blazing. A cop car goes down St. Claude, drives past it and keeps going. And these people that were at the Hanks show that don’t live in New Orleans were like ‘Oh my god, there is a fire, this is fucked, we’ve got to get out of here’ and cut the music and everyone split… But it probably could have kept happening.

R: And I feel like people keep setting that float on fire on Mardi Gras. I feel like it happened last year too?

The same poor float?

R: yeah.

A: I did a generator show at Rally burger. Went off without a hitch. Maria’s other band Malflora and my band Lassie played… Who else played. What is that Flipper worship band that I don’t like?

Alright, Alli, you make movies. If you had an unlimited budget, what would your dream Special Interest music video be?

A: We have been talking about cars and explosions. Stunt cars. An action movie. Car off a cliff.

I am starting a new interview tradition where I end each interview asking a snack or candy related question. Wanted to ask about your favorite New Orleans delicacy. You guys are known for good food.

A: Triangle Deli ribs and macaroni. It’s a gas station. It’s at least the best macaroni.

M: Dong Phuong King cake, MOTHER FUCKER.

R: Mine is not good or something that I neccescarily like but I am very fond of it… The New Orleans Elmer Chee-wees which are bland sterofoam like Cheetos. But I just think they are so good. In the grand scheme of snacks they are kinda nasty, but I have a real soft spot.  I like things that have a sterofoam texture for some reason.

Do you like circus peanuts then? I was just telling someone who had never had them about how they are the worst.

R:  Yeah, those are good. I like Munchos, those weird rehydrated or powdered chip chips.

N: New Orleans has a big Vietnamese community. Nowhere near as big as Houston, but there is this one place Tan Dinh and it’s Vietnamese soul food, it is so rich. They have wings with fish sauce on them. It’s so good.

INTERVIEW WITH BOY HARSHER

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I was first introduced to Boyharsher through my best friend and bandmate Ciarra Black. She was putting together an impeccable comp for her new label No-Tech. When she told me she had stumbled across this band called Boy Harsher and thought they would be my new favorite band, I took serious heed. The girl knows me pretty well and she was damn straight. At this point, there need not be much on an introduction of the duo to most fans of dark minimal electronic music. The pair have sold out releases and shows around the world and were on the road supporting Soft Moon when I had a chance to sit down with them in an undisclosed location in Highland Park, Los Angeles .

I’ve fallen for the bands sinister sincerity. There is almost a sense that you are listening to something that you shouldn’t be, like this couple hailing from Northampton, Massachusetts never really intended for their music to fall on the publics ears. Their songs have a sense of urgent intimacy, like a kiss that is too hard. Their albums help me harness an adolescent desire to dance alone behind a closed door. My admiration for Boy Harsher was certainly cemented when I first had a chance to catch the band live at the Silent Barn. I was shooting a DIY fashion week event and they were providing the tunes. I had a chance to sit in the backyard with Jae and smoke ten thousand cigarettes and speak as though I had known her forever.

Our conversation came with ease and I decided to press play on my recorder right in the middle, the interview had begun by accident. We were talking about the weather and got on the topic of a band overseas co-opting their album artwork as their own. Once we got going it felt like I was the one being interviewed at times and we treaded some dangerous territory.

I experience this a lot with people repurposing my photos without asking. Sometimes it is chill if it is one of my friends or for a flyer or something but, how does it feel to have something taken from you that is so personal?

Jae:  You’re already putting it out there, so you are already
stripping some of the intimacy out of it. Sometimes I feel super
guilty, because I did a lot of these videos without the intention of
putting them out there in the world as publicly as they are now. The
video that the album artwork [Your Body is Nothing] is from started as
a really small experimental project with my friend Adelin. I was like
‘can you just dance in this warehouse and let me film you?’

Gus: Album art is like an icon. We didn’t ask ‘do you want to become an icon?’.

Jae: Her image now represents something that is different than the
initial intention. She’s cool, a relaxed person, I know that she is
okay with it. But, there still is a weird guilt complex.
bodyisnothing

But is could tread some strange territory if it was a different person, or a different circumstance.

Gus: Do you feel that way about photography? Do you ever take a picture of a person and then the image becomes very popular and it gets used for something else?

Absolutely.

Gus: Your art is also their body, or their image?

Yeah. The problem with being a photographer is that I try to think of every photo as a collaboration.  Not so much at the moment, because my life is changing so much, but a lot of my photos are of people partying and wasted and taken at an intimate time and I was just their friend taking a photo, which people are so accustomed to now-a-days. When certain photos are repurposed I try to check in with people. Some friends have asked me to take photos down for different reasons. I most recently really wanted to make a tee shirt of a photo that I took a number of years ago of a couple that have long since broken up. I reached out to both of them to see if they were cool with it, and one of them was’t. I was super stoked on the tee shirt, people had asked me to put the photo on a tee shirt and I have mocked everything up and contacted a screen printer … I was disappointed and the image is out there in the world, but it was never intended to be used for a tee shirt when I asked the couple to pose. That changes a lot. I totally understood.

It’s weird being a photographer… There are cultures who think that a photo steals part of your soul, and I agree, but not always in a negative sense. I think photography is vampiric. Sometimes I also feel a little predatory.

Even when I see someone who I think looks cool on the street and I ask to take their picture and they consent… The person isn’t completely aware of why I took the photo or who I am or what my deal is. Sometimes it is something simple like really liking someones outfit. , or they look interesting or whatever. But once is a while I feel like my intentions are a bit twisted.

Jae: Like exploitative?

Exactly, and I don’t want to put those pictures out in the world. I am still compelled to take some photos that are like that, but I won’t post them or anything.

Jae: Do you know the black and white photographer “Weegee” [Arthur Fellig]? His whole thing was that he was a crime scene photographer…

Yeah! I watched a good documentary about him!

Jae: The way that he related to photography changed… He was
documenting really horrific, gory things and then he started taking
pictures of nightlife. He brought the same attitude from his crime
scene photos to his nightlife photos. Very straight forward, certainly
exploitative. The subject was not presented in a necessarily
flattering way.

I’ve defiantly gotten myself into some weird situations because I revel in being at the right place at the right time. I once found myself at a satanic ritual orgy… just so I could take some pictures of the experience just because I was invited. 

Once I got there I felt bad because I just went to take pictures, which they consented to, but I thought I should at least take off my clothes. Anyway, it ended up being a very strange experience and I’ve never shown those pictures to anyone. I regretted it so badly afterwards for a bunch of reasons but the whole thing could have been avoided if I didn’t end up where I didn’t belong just to take some pictures. Just because I was at some noise show and there was a naked couple there and they invited me back to play at their apartment and I had my camera and they didn’t mind if I took their picture.

Next thing you know…

Jae: Wait… so they were naked at the noise show?

Yeah… It was a Crank Sturgeon show.

Jae: Wowa, where?

At this warehouse show in Brooklyn. So yeah. I was at the show and there was a naked woman who was restrained to the ceiling…

Gus: Were they part of the set?

Nope. Just people who were there and enjoying being naked and performing sexual acts in public and trying to recruit people to come back to their apartment. I initially approached the couple and asked if I could take a picture, and they were really into it. As the night progressed they had convinced a bunch of people back to their place. They mentioned that there would be an orgy, I could take my camera and that they had many bottles of liquor. 

I was at the show with my friend Miles, who is a filmmaker and also intrigued by being in the wrong place at the right time and we went together with his girlfriend at the time to check it out… But I do remember that moment where I was completely naked and made eye contact with him, fully clothed and in horror… we were both wondering what the fuck was happening. 

Gus: Did you get some good photos?

I got some really good photos.

Gus: I’m surprised I have never seen these photos.

They are in the vault for a lot of reasons. Aside from what we were talking about, that night ended up harboring some really terrible associations for me as well. The whole thing has such bad juju. Anyway, so aside from Boyharsher, do you guys have any other projects going on?

Gus:  We made a couple of music videos this year. And Jae writes.

Jae:  I used to write more. I used to work on really horrible indie
films. It is a lot more fulfilling to do this, even if it is really
challenging and sometimes feel like a total imposter. On films there
is a loaded sense of ego, everyone feels like they deserve to be
there… Whereas creative pursuits, like music, you have to be your own
cheerleader and make yourself believe that you deserve to be there.

I do miss working on films, but I want to work on my own films. Write
my own film and have it go into production. That would be the
ultimate.

boyharshersmileflowers

Sooooo then you would move to LA right?

Jae: We always talk about moving to LA.

Gus: One reason to do that would be because of film, and to expand our
creative side. One of the things about music is that you get to be so
introverted and you can really do that wherever, but we are really
interested in exploring what else Boy Harsher could do or could offer.

Jae: Gus is kind of beating around the bush but Gus really wants to score, which I think would be perfect.

Would you want to compose your own videos or score for other directors and artists?

Gus: I’ve always been interested in standard composing for film but I
would be really interested in multimedia things too.

Jae: Installations would be amazing. To work with someone doing large scale installation pieces who is interested in adding a sonic element.

I wanted to just touch a bit more on your writing and lyric writing. In electronic music, lyrics and vocals tend to be less important and more about the way that words fit into a song more than what the song is saying. How do you approach your lyrics? Are they an extension of your prose or do you find them to be less personal? 

Jae: When we first started I was trying to take prose that I had
written and cram it into an ambient structure. At the time, Boy
Harsher was mostly ambient. After you perform a bunch of times you
learn more about the vocal performance. Lyrics became more reliant on
delivery than on content.  There are some songs that are a little more
heady than others. But, I think most of my songs are a study in
repetition, how I can perform a word more than the meaning of the
word.

Are there any songs that are particularly intimate or closer to your prose?

Jae: Many songs that we don’t play live. Our live set is a very
dedicated – cultivated energy. Certain songs I remember writing and
then feeling so struck by them. There is a song called “A Realness”
that was written at a point where I didn’t know if we were going to
stay together, we were struggling to make this work. When I hear the
song that uncertainly, that feeling, it comes back.

And then there are some songs that are not that dedicated in terms of
lyrical content.

Gus: We don’t have to expose those though.

Jae: The first couple of albums came out of a certain ‘chaos of us’
and now writing I’m in a more stable, but solemn place. My mother was
just diagnosed with alcoholic dementia. So when I write now, I write
about losing someone who is still alive, it’s tough. I can’t shake it.
Not sure if the songs will fly, just ’cause they are so sad.

But there is a need to get it out to some capacity, you are just
finding out how to do it and not break down every time that you play.

A big thing for the both of us is that we want the music to be
universal. I don’t need the person listening to be going through the
same thing, yet the experience of losing someone is already ubiquitous
it’s a connection. We are at the stage of trying to utilize the
intimacy or these sad things, but project it in a way that is global.

How has playing bigger shows effected your live performance? Has it
been an organic progression, or very difficult?

Jae: It’s tough. I think about the shows that we were doing last year,
like we’ll never top this. These really small zones where I could jump
into the audience, so ready, just a part of it. It felt like the peak
for me, important and relevant. Now we are playing stages and there is
usually a fucking barricade and the stage is huge. Granted, big spaces
sound amazing and have big systems, but for me it’s a challenge to
find that visceral connection with the audience. Our music, I think,
can smack people in the face – which is good, but I also want to be
there. I’m still figuring out how to interact physically with big
spaces. Gus hasn’t changed one bit, I don’t think. He does pretty much
does the same thing he has always done.

It must be so hard to be as intertwined as you guys are, as partners
and bandmates constantly on tour. Other than ‘ I love you’, what is
something that you feel that you don’t express to each other that you
don’t communicate as often as you would like to? Are there sentiments
that get lost?

Gus: We talk about this all of the time. It is definitely voicing
appreciation. When you are with someone all day there are little
things that Jae does that I rely on so much and I don’t say thank you
each time. We are always trying to find ways to communicate that we do
appreciate each other.

Jae: It’s appreciation, for sure. We spend so much time together that
I definitely take it for granted. I’m often manic and neurotic, I
don’t think there are a lot of people who can put up with me for so
many hours of the day. Even sleeping. Basically every hour.

Gus: Really good pitch here for Jae Matthews as a partner.

Jae: Yeah I think it is just voicing appreciation that we need to get better at.

When touring you take people’s strengths for granted. There is always one person who is better at making the business calls or managing navigation or driving. I tend to just float and when you are not saying “thank you” or acknowledging that it is work even if they are good at it. Roles just sort of develop and you begin to assume that someone will do something and become reliant on it. Just because someone is good at something doesn’t mean that it is not stressful. I don’t even drive and don’t even think about it.

Jae: I’m a micromanager, so I do all of that shit.  I also can’t drive
as much as I used to be able to. I’ve noticed that Gus is doing all of
the driving and we’re doing a lot of nighttime, driving ahead. After a
show, late, we drive for a couple hours, through the mountains… I
would never be able to do that, so thank you for driving around scary
cliffs.

I get to travel a lot for someone who doesn’t have a driver license. I don’t even know how annoying that must be.

Jae: You’re just sitting in the back eating corn nuts.

Literally. The entire time. The new Cheddar Jalapeño ones are really good.

Jae: We just had the chile limon ones and they were really good.

I’m into them. This is a good time to open up the gummy bears. Speaking of snacks. So, touring. Shit happens. What is the biggest misadventure that you guys have come across on tour? They are usually funny in retrospect, but not at the time.

Jae: We were thinking about this the other day. There have been a lot
of little weird things, but there are enough of them that they lose
their meaning.

Gus:  We were driving one time and a manhole cover flew off the road
and hit our car and ended up totaling our engine so we were stuck in
Charleston for days. Three days. We had to get a whole new engine.

Jae: That is more of a sad story though.

What did you guys do in Charleston?

Jae: We stayed on the outskirts. Off the highway.  So no gumbo or
whatever. We had to walk down this highway strip to get food.  It was
the pits. But an adventure.

I did get food poisoning in London, which is hilarious… We played a
Doc Marten showcase… Cheesy but funny… An early show, super easy, only
30 people could go and it was all done by 10pm. I was stoked, because
we could go and sleep! We weren’t sleeping at all on this tour. So I
eat this salad and go to bed and I am so happy: ate a salad, getting a
full nights sleep, the next day I would explore London and get some
Indian food.

I wake up at 4 AM feeling like there is a monster in me and projectile
vomit. I puked once an hour until noon. There was some pressure not to
cancel the show that night, because it was sold out, people were
looking forward.  We get to the club, no one has ever heard of
Gatorade, but I get Powerade and proceed to puke blue into urinals,
because can never make it to a toilet. So I’m puking blue, rip a set
and then puke some more into urinals. That was our latest debacle.
Blue vomit and food poisoning from a salad. Just cruel. I guess it’s
very common.

I should start washing my vegetables.

Jae: Lettuce, dude. On this tour we have had a pretty easy tour because we are a support band – we are just riding the wave.

Gus: Nothing horrible has really happened.

Jae: Yeah, you hear of bands getting robbed or things that are scary
and would make you want to give up. Even though I bought my vocal rack
on craigslist for thirty bucks if someone stole it I wouldn’t want to
do this anymore. I wouldn’t be able to manage the feelings.

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What physical object besides music gear do you feel the most attached to?

Jae: Do dogs count? I got a dog named Bear and he is my number one. He
is staying with Gus’s Mom but I am super scared that he is going to
get eaten by a bear or get hit by a car. I am just freaked out. But I
am more attached to Bear than anything else.

My Mom has my cat right now and it’s really hard. I know that he is being taken care of, but I can’t wait until I am in a place to have Calvin back. He needs to be a California cat. I have had him my entire adult life. He has been there with me through everything. I knew how much I loved him but I didn’t realize what a source of emotional support he was. 

Jae: They are just there for you. They love you.

He is a really special, sensitive, loving and unique kitty.

Jae: When is he going to come out here?

I don’t know. I don’t even know how I would get him out here at this point.

Jae: And you plan to stay out here in LA?

I think for a while. It would be too difficult for me to go back to New York right now. I don’t feel strong enough to face it and additionally my entire sober life was constructed here… The people I have met, the meetings that I go to, my sponsor, the people I’ve called on the phone when I have had a hard time… They are all here in LA. So it is a double whammy. Going back to New York is going to be really, really fucking hard and then I wouldn’t be close to my recovery.

It sucks because I am so incredibly homesick. I miss my friends and family so much.  If I had not relapsed, it might be a little different but because I did it’s not going to be the same. Everyone was rooting for me and I think we all thought that it was over. I don’t think anyone was prepared for it not to work. We all had high hopes. 

I thought I understood addiction and I thought I had a grasp on what I had to do in recovery but I was only starting to scratch the surface.

Jae: When my Mom relapsed I was so pissed, just ready to abandon her.
I was like ‘fuck you, you clearly don’t care about me’. Talking to a
therapist helped me pump the breaks. To your supporters, you are
really battling a disease right now. With my Mom I internalized that
she was being malicious to me or she didn’t care about me or she was
chasing something else over me. The stakes with her are different,
drinking worsens her dementia. I totally understand what you are
saying and the feelings of knowing that you let someone down.

Mom and I are trying to reconcile. She knows that she let me down, but
I’m also trying to be strong and not trying to be a total bitch. It’s
her struggle and not necessarily mine.

It’s really difficult because I am not in contact with the person who is closest to me. She set a really hard boundary and I totally respect it despite it being so difficult. She was too intertwined in my recovery. She was the person who got me into my first rehab and she was the person who encouraged me to go to sober living and decided where I would go and encouraged me to go to California and stay. When I got on a plane to go to rehab in May I thought I would just be gone for a couple weeks, take care of my alcoholism and go back to New York and just be fixed and sober for the rest of my life and everything would be better. I think we both thought all of the bad stuff was over. She was so invested in my recovery. When I relapsed I felt like I had betrayed her and it took me a while to understand that I betrayed myself. I think we are learning how to ‘detach with love’.

But this recovery is mine. I decided I would go to treatment and where. I worked with music cares because I didn’t have the money. I think she is happy about that, but she needs some time. I hurt her and scared her.

In any case she is pretty much friends with all of my friends and we are not on normal speaking terms. I don’t know who fucks with me anymore, in general. I don’t feel like I could return to New York and go to shows or do anything normally and everything there is extremely loaded and I am not equipped to handle it right now. I am also not sure that a lot of the people that I would want to see would even want to see me right now. Maybe in a year.

Jae: That’s a mature way to handle it. Not to say that you are cured,
but you are accepting this more than a lot of people do, believe me.
My Mom is not on the level. She is just bummed because my feelings got
hurt. She is not bummed because she is an alcoholic and she needs to
get better. A doctor told her that her brain is failing and that she
needs to quit drinking – but it means nothing. It is amazing to hear
that readiness to accept that ‘recovery right now is for me’. It’s
important.

It has to be, and that was an important shift in my perspective. I wanted to stop drinking because I wanted to consequences to stop but there was still a mourning. I wished so badly that drinking was still a tool that I could use to shut myself off. That is how I relapsed. I got to a point where I felt unable to bear life and I just went to my only coping mechanism because I didn’t know what else to reach for when I was that desperate for relief. It is difficult to explain that mindset and feeling to someone who isn’t an alcoholic. It defies all logic. It doesn’t matter how much you love people or what could happen if you drink. 

Jae: Even though you know that it will fuck everything up, it is not
like it is part of the equation. But LA is such a cool place to do
this, man. Imagine going to a treatment center in cold ass upstate New
York or something…

The first treatment center I went to was in Michigan between a shooting range and a shit processing plant and was a hospital like environment. People with certain PTSD couldn’t go outside because the sound of the guns would set them off. It was life saving though, and a good program. I don’t think I would be alive if i hadn’t gone when I did.

Right now I live in a recovery house with only two other residents who are both in their sixties. It is cool. Homey, we all do chores and cook for each other and it is sweet. It is a huge lesson in getting sober now though. I protected my drinking for so long and hid so much from people. Right now I am looking the consequences of what I have in store if I continue to do that or relapse. What it looks like and feels like to drink for thirty more years. It’s an eye opener. I want to live a full life! 

I was so depressed and anxious for so long and the only thing I could do about it was drink and so my life got so small and meaningless and fucked up and sad but for some reason I felt like I had this obligation to go on even though it would have been more logical to just kill myself. 

When we were younger, my sister and I both made a pact to each other that we would never commit suicide. But every time that I drank it was a small death. A weird temporary death and also a trot towards death.

Jae: Suicidal tendencies

Yeah. The way that I drank was life deliberate self harm. Now I have the most stability that I have had in a year and I am starting to feel like if I stay sober that my life can get bigger again. It’s not like my life will get better because I am sober, like I thought that it would. But in order to have the possibility of having a bigger life, a prerequisite is staying sober. But I am a human being and shit happens, I just have to learn how to deal with it.

Jae: I was thinking the same thing with my Mom. I thought that because
she was sober, she was going to be my Mom again. I was putting so much
pressure on her situation. It is fascinating how AA and Al Anon have
the same message for each end of the spectrum. As the loved one of an
addict, you begin to act like an addict. You become obsessed with ‘the
cure’ and how you can control someone, but that’s not how it works.

Many people need distance from me right now. They realize that no matter how much they love me or do for me, they can not cure me. I will never be ‘cured’. I have to learn how to maintain and live with it. I think some people need to wait for me to be in a space that is healthy enough that they feel that it is safe to engage because they have been let down and feel betrayed on such a deep level because they did everything that she could for me. They need to know that talking to me won’t just randomly throw a grenade into their life. 

Jae: Thanks for being so open, it’s fascinating to talk to you about this for sure.

I feel like I have to be for a lot of reasons, especially because my recovery was made so public because there was a gofundme to help get me into treatment. The fact that I got sober was really public. I felt sort of obligated to show people that I was doing it the first time. I was posting pictures of my chips and stuff like that. I am open but I am not doing things like that now because I don’t feel the need to prove myself in that way. But I am an open person and maybe the fact that I am so open could help someone one day. I think it helps me, anyway. I feel compelled to be open with my experience because I always have. My life has been so blown open and documented and I have had so many things about me revealed publicly including my bottom. There have been public consequences out of my control, so being open about doing better doesn’t bother me but I don’t feel like it is my position to prove anything or try and manipulate people or their opinions of me in any way. 

Jae: People feel like they deserve communication or attention. I love
messages from fans, but I get some communication that is kinda scary.
I don’t know you and don’t know why you are acting like you know me
and deserve a reaction. Did that exist 40 years ago when people were
starting up a teeny little band? Probably not.

Gus: Teeny band…

Jae: We are teeny! Imagine what Rhianna has to deal with. It’s so
uncomfortable. I would say that generally our fans are very cool
people and I aways take joy in meeting / talking. Most are chill,
inquisitive and if I lived in that city I imagine that we could be
friends. Then there are weird outliers who do everything they can to
make me feel shaken.

It is so rude when people touch your gear, or heckle and don’t think that it’s a problem. It’s not that I ‘can’t take it’. They want to be part of the show and be noticed. I hate it when people are mad you didn’t play long enough or play the set that they wanted to see.

Jae: In Poland we had people physically pushing us back on stage
asking us to play longer when we played an hour set. When we told them
that was our set they told us to play the set again. It’s like, no! We
aren’t …

Boyharshertunnel

Gus: We are not Weird Al in the early 2000’s.

Think he had more of a mid 90’s peak. Ugh, he came into my job at Hauser and Wirth recently. He was trying to enter a sculpture. He was really weird.

Gus: He’s on tour right now.

So he is not at Hauser and Witrh trying to climb into a Mike Kelley sculpture right now?

Gus: Wait, wait wait. So he must deal with the most annoying people in the world but he in turn is more annoying than all of the annoying fans that he has?

He was legit bizarre. Like even the way that he moves his body is weird. And he was really incensed that I wouldn’t let him walk on art. He had a fucked up chaotic energy, seriously. I had to reprimand him for touching art and trying to stand on it and he was with who I think was his daughter and she looked like she wanted to kill herself. Because her Dad is Weird Al.

Gus: Well, he is a professional.

Maybe it was a character or something?

Gus: Maybe it was promo for his new album

If you could go back in time one year and give yourself a piece of advice that you would actually follow, what would that advice be?

Gus: I would maybe snip a couple tours. Tell myself I could play 60 less shows in 365 days. You’ll really appreciate it.

Jae: I love touring so I probably wouldn’t do that, but back then I was really scared…

Gus: Oh, bitcoin!

Jae: Oh yeah! Actually a year ago I went into the bank because I had a
teeny amount of savings and was like ‘I have been hearing about these
investments’ AKA Bitcoin and asked if they thought I should invest and
they told me not to because it was too risky. A month later Bitcoin
blew up and if I had dropped a thousand bucks I would have made like
20,000 or something, ugh.

Gus: But that was a joke weren’t you going to say something meaningful?

Jae: I still get nervous, but last year I was really scared to
perform. When you operate out of fear you prevent yourself from having
fun and really getting into the moment. I’ve learned that it’s not
because I am singing any better or dancing any better or whatever that
makes a show better. The best shows are the ones where we’re having
fun, not scared. We played at Echoplex this January. I was so fucking
freaked out, because the show was supposed to be small and it ended up
being in the bigger space and selling out and it felt like too much.
Then late in the game that night I was like ‘I have to have fun or I
am just going to be crying all night’ and it ended up being great!

(At Echoplex) We are up there playing and outta nowhere in the midst
of our first song, no sound. That place has such giant subs, the bass
knocked out the power cord. But, I was able to embrace the insanity
and I remember just laughing. How fucking crazy. Last year I wish I
was experiencing shows that way.

What if instead of one year ago, you could go back in time and tell yourself one thing as an 8-year-old child? 

Gus: I was pretty caught up superficial things and trying to be cool
and I would have told myself to avoid that and not to grow up and
smoke so much pot. It’s not that cool.

Jae: At 8 I was very lost. My parents had just gotten divorced and it
was confusing. I was introverted. A quiet little dork. My high school
advice would be different. When we’re not touring, I pick up shifts
sometimes as a catering waitress and I work with high schoolers.
Strangely enough they always ask me for advice and I think ‘why would
you ask me for advice? I am a catering waitress, with you, a 16 year
old.’

High School is the last time in your life when there is no pressure and I wish I had taken that time to really cultivate my art. When you wait until College there is insane external shit clouding your judgement. It is not that I would have been some genius artist but I just wish that I had taken my art a little more seriously and learned to craft. Now everything feels fleeting and there isn’t enough time and I am stressed about family and jobs and work and if I did’t have that stuff in my life and didn’t have the insecurity that things were lame or stupid… In High School you are still into what you are creating. But instead of taking my art more seriously I just smoked too much weed.

Since you mentioned working as a waitress with teenagers and I am currently working at an ice cream shop with teenagers, what is the most shitty job you guys have ever had?

Gus: Mine was that I thought I was going to break into the service
industry, but it turns out I am way too awkward to do that and I can’t
multi task but I got a job as a bus boy at a really fancy steak house.
I would dump a whole stack of plates on millionaires and Chris Farley
every chance that I got. And I got fired.

Jae: I’ve worked on several films that brought me to the edge of
annihilation and desperation. I am tempted to say that the worst movie
I ever worked on was a (redacted) movie, because he is just mean. A
mean old man. And, I have worked on a lot of bad movies. That being
said, being out in Marfa was amazing. Amazing town. I’m glad I don’t
feel pressured to work on movies anymore.

https://boyharsher.bandcamp.com

http://boyharsher.com

 

 

INTERVIEW WITH GENESIS P-ORRIDGE + EDLEY ODOWD OF PSYCHIC TV

psychictvwierd
Psychic TV @ Wierd Night (RIP), 2011. Taken by myself.

It would be far too daunting to do a proper introduction to Psychic TV or Genesis P-Orridge. The originator of industrial music as we know it, pure magic, mentor, thinker and speaker, pandrogyne, visual artist and humbling humorist who often challenges people to re/think the world around them and the possibilities that lay therein. I was pretty beside myself when I was given the opportunity to go to their apartment to sit down and talk to both Genesis and Edley Odowd (long time collaborator, drummer of psychic TV and art director for Psychic TV for over a decade) prior to their apperance at the Bezerktown festival in L.A., where they are set to perform Psychic TV’s first record Force the Hand of Chance in it’s entirety.

This conversation sort of starts in the middle. I plopped myself on their couch and pet their dog, and we started to converse immediately. I began recording before the interview was even formally addressed. Genesis was telling me that a piece from her most recent art exhibit at the Ruben museum was going to be displayed at St. John’s Cathedral. We exchanged some formal questions and before too long, I felt like I was in a therapy session. In a good way. Genesis and Edley were able to pick up whatever wounded vibrations I was sending out into the world. I left feeling high. I was given glorious guidance by two people who I respect immensely and I planned on putting it to work. It has only been a week and this interview has already changed my life. I have started to ‘do the opposite’ and think about myself differently. So, fair warning, this gets a little personal. The questions veer from the plan. But I believe there is a great deal of wisdom, possibility and love within.

JANE PAIN: So “Try to Alter Everything” at the Rubin museum ended today, how does that feel for you?

GENESIS: A little bit weird, I kind of got used to going there three times a week.I have to write something for you next (points towards Edley)

J: What will you be writing for Edley?

G: He’s got an art exhibition coming up in Los Angeles.

Edley: Yes, with a book. September 1 at lethal amounts gallery.

J: What will the book be composed of?

E: It’s the art of Psychic TV for the past twelve years. I have pretty much been the exclusive graphic designer, but the show is about iconography translates to everything, so it won’t just be a bunch of flat pictures on the wall, there will be a lot of objects and textiles and why not make a bed spread out of it? Why not make curtains out of it? So, you know the reason we are playing Berzerktown, right?

J: I don’t, in fact that was going to be my first question! I guess not so much why you are playing, but why you chose to play Force the Hand of Chance in it’s entirety. 

E: We are going to perform Psychic Tv’s first album, because we want to but also because I spent four years going up against Warner Brothers to license the rights back, and they have finally decided to work with us. So, we will also have a special limited edition of the records that will be sold at the concert.

J: I will absolutely be picking one of those up, there are a lot of goodies in there!

E: A lot of goodies, an alternate cover from the shoot of the head that Gen made back in 1982. So Berzerktown is happening at the same time as this is being released.

G: And we will be performing with some very interesting guests.

J: Do the guests have to be secret until the show?

G+E: I don’t think so…

J: Then I have to ask, who will be performing with you guys?

E: Well, Margaret Cho…

J: I didn’t expect that. Have you seen the video of her talking with Jerry Seinfeld about Genesis?

G: Yes, it turns out she is a fan. You never know who is a fan. We didn’t know Marc Jacobs was either.

E: We are going to have her as well as Ron Athey, who we are both really excited about. He is not a musician, he is a performance artist.

G: Do you know about Ron Athey?

J: I don’t, I plan on googling him as soon as I leave.

G: Google him! He is famous for doing very, very intense ritual performances about being HIV positive. He has been dong more conceptual things, but he is a nice guy who does very pure stuff. What he is doing is the real thing, not fake performance art.

E: The closing track of the record was originally spoken by Mister Sebastian, who is no longer alive, so we needed a new groundbreaking person.

G: He [Sebastian] used to do body piercing and tattoos and at that time he was the only person in Britain who did body art and tattoos.

E: We will also be having Sean from Cult of Youth performing with us.

J: Ah, my friend! Gen, I actually saw you conduct his wedding service!

G: I Married him. It was a nice ceremony, wasn’t it? You got lucky Misses, they are not normally like that.

J: I have only been to a couple weddings, but that one seemed unusual… I would like to revisit your show at the Ruben. I was really interested in your decision to invite guests to make offerings to the show [many of which were exhibited] and know that you interacted with people though the exhibition via performance, curating events and even answering the telephone periodically. Why did you decide to engage with the gallery audience in this way and in retrospect, how do you feel about the offerings made and their interaction with your exhibit.

G: Well, we got more than 1,200 gifts or offerings, which is pretty good. Filled every single space we had designated with some left over which were stored. We don’t go to art exhibitions that much any more… We used to go a lot more with Jaye. We felt that galleries are usually so elitist and sterile and removed from people’s experience that there is no warmth, embracing or welcoming into the art and into the stories… and that is because most of the art you see doesn’t have a story. It’s all just ‘look at me, I’ve got a formula and I can do it twenty times and sell it all’. That is of no interest to us.

The point of the show is that everything can be sacred and that everything is potentially special and every person is too. Having people bring gifts was one way that we thought we could express that, and make it simple and not too intimidating to people off the street who didn’t know anything about me or it. It really resonated with people, even people not far off from my age but people from high school to people in their seventies came and talked to me about giving things.

A couple of people said ‘well that section just has a bus ticket in it’, but how would you know what the significance is of that bus ticket? That might be the ticket that they got to go to the funeral of their mother. Or the one that took them to the person that they are in love with. Or it could be the one that took them to the hospital when they discovered they had cancer. You don’t know what the significance is, and that is the whole point, that everything is potentially significant and that everything has a story.

We used to work with a Shaman who would tell us to go out, come back in a half an hour and tell him what the streets told us. Let him know what you learned from what you saw. You would look at the world so different straight away.

In the eighties, we used to go on tour in a school bus, and it broke down in the middle of the salt flats in Utah, miles and miles from anything and it was 110 degrees. We had the kids. Tom was our driver. We had stopped right before we hit the desert to fill the tank with gas.

So we said, it should work. Why has it stopped? Our first question to him was, ‘Did you definitely fill the tank up?’ and he said ‘yes, yes, of course I did’ I said that it didn’t make sense, and he said that it was a piece of shit bus, and that we should just get rid of the bus.

We got someone to hitchhike to the nearest town with the kids so the kids could be safe at a diner. While he was gone and looking for a mechanic, we walked out to the desert and squatted in the desert trying to descend into my head. As we were squatting, looking at the salt flats, we see ants. There are littles holes that are their nest, they are going off and coming back with bits of food. Going back out, coming back with bits of food. We thought ‘that is their fuel. He was lying. He didn’t put the petrol in, that is what is wrong with the bus. No fuel.’

By the time we walked back to the bus, he had reappeared. I asked him again if he had out the petrol in and he stuttered and said ’no, I was scared to tell you.’

I asked him if he realized he suggested throwing the bus away and breaking the engine down. I made him hitchhike away again to get some petrol. But that was an example of when that excersise worked for me in a particular way.

E: And you have used this excersise in your classes.

G: Yes, we use this when we do workshops with people. It makes people stop and think, which is always a good thing. To hesitate. What have I got in my purse? This is what a lot of people did, [when they attended “Try to Alter Everything” at the Rubin] they looked at what they had and thought ‘what do I have that means something to me?’. Instead of thinking about how they only have six dollars left and one ride on the subway. Just on that level alone, it is a great way to reprogram people into looking, perception. We have this saying ‘Change the way to perceive’, if you can change your memory you can change the past by perceiving things differently. That is what all art should be doing, encouraging people to perceive the world differently, more completely, more meticulously. There are always ways to rethink our senses and the information that we receive.

J: What do you mean about reevaluating the past and interpreting something differently, do you think that is it healthy to look back at something negative and grab something positive?

G: Well, that’s not really how it works. What happens is that you develop wisdom, and knowledge, and as your way of living life changes you’ll look back and realize the flaws in what you have done and maybe why it failed. And then, when something becomes a crisis again, you can do things differently.

J: That is happening to me right now.

G: There you go. If you don’t remember the past, you are doomed to repeat it. There are a lot of different ways that you can take that phrase, and again, it can be taken as a way to remind you but the literally re/mind you, to give you another mind. Look back and re/think how you are looking at the world, how you are reacting to the world, what you are giving to the world, what you are receiving from the world around you. Constantly analyze are you doing something out of habit? Are you doing something because it is what is expected of you? Am I doing this because I am afraid? Why am I doing this? Why am I choosing to do things in this particular way in this particular time. All those things can be rearranged once you start making little maps to your past to keep alert.

J: What if you are super scared of making the same mistake that at sometimes feels out of your power? 

G: There is a really easy excersize for that, which we have used. We had one long relationship with Cosey Fanni Tutti, then we had one long relationship to the children’s Mother and both times when it started to fall apart, we tried to rescue it. It was just more miserable that the painful part lasted longer. So when it happened again, we just thought, well, whatever it was that happened the last time, we will just do the exact opposite, because it didn’t work the way we were doing it the last three times.

So if we rang up and said ‘please, please’, we won’t ring. If we tried to justify why they should love me, we won’t say anything. And it was like math. What did we do before? We will do the opposite. And not only did it end the pain really quickly,  it saved the relationship.

J: That’s good to hear.

G: But you have to be really strict with yourself, because it is in your nature to do your mistakes again. And sometimes we would sit there, fidgeting.

E:  I think it is also helpful to take the stance of having nothing to lose. Then, nothing can harm you. I was single for twelve years. I would never take that leap, and just not give a shit, and just do it. A year ago somebody walked up to me and said ‘will you go on a date with me?’ and I said yes, and we are engaged to be married now. There you go. Do things differently.

G: Do things differently and consciously.

J: Things are really hard for me because I keep making the same mistakes, I am stuck in a loop. My mistakes keep rippling into my relationships with the people who are closest to me and worsening my relationship with myself. For me, right now, it isn’t about not calling someone, it is about calling someone when I need them.

E: Gen used to say that I was stuck in a loop. I would do the same thing over and over again.

G: The other thing is, as Lady Jaye would say ‘be fearless’. Edly just said yes. He jumped off. Not ask ‘what if’.

E: After I said yes, we were living on separate coasts. I realized I had nothing to lose. I asked them if they wanted to get a job transfer, if they wanted to live with me. And they said yes. There is nothing to lose by seeing what happens.

G: Unconditional surrender. Once you’ve done the unconditional surrender, you can’t fail. There is nothing complex. There are no games, no secrets. One hundred percent unconditional surrender is the only way anything can work in the long term. After people watch the film The Ballad of Genesis and Lady Jaye a lot of people have told me that they have always been scared of being hurt so they have held back a bit, but they have still gotten hurt. We say, of course you do, because you hold back a bit! You’re probably going to get hurt any way, so why not just say fuck it and jump. A lot of relationships can’t work in a really long term way, but there can be so much joy from a fully committed unconditional love.

E: Nothing is guaranteed. You know what is really interesting about Jane? When I was working at Trans-Pecos and you and I were texting during that noise fest… There were people everywhere, hot and sweaty. When she walks into a room, she really shines. I instantly noticed her in this room of people. I made a point to connect to you at the bar. Asked you ‘did you get your synth fixed?’

J: I couldn’t even fanthom why you remembered or cared.

E: I felt compelled because of the energy that you gave.

J: That makes me feel really nice. Especially as circumstances of that fest had me feeling on and off again rotten.

E: You should know that about yourself. You are putting compelling energy out there.

G: We remembered you straight away.

J: This is so flattering.

G: There you go. Start looking at yourself differently.

J: This is so interesting also, because of how I need to absolutely surrender/ jump off the cliff right now is to learn to love myself and to commit to living my life without alcohol.

G: How old are you?

J: 28, turning 29 next month.

G: Oh wow, you look much younger.

E: You do… Yeah… I know this sounds so old manish to say, with a cigar hanging out of the side of my mouth but… You’re young. Wisdom takes time and experience. That is why it is even more important to embrace and to let things happen when you are young. It will help you achieve and akrew wisdom. I’ve noticed that everything changes every ten years, in a major way.

J: Since I am looking at 29, I hope that this year brings on a very positive change in myself.

G: Well, you are going through your saturn return, aren’t you? 27 is very hard, that is why so many people die at 27.

J: I am thankful that I didn’t, now. I flirted with it.

G: New York is very easy to get sucked into. We’ve all been there. All of us have, in different ways. Do you have any more questions, my dear? Otherwise it is going to cost you a hundred dollars.

J: I feel like I am getting a full therapy session here!

E: You’ll put out a very thick zine with your psychologists, Genesis and Edley.

J: Well, there is evidence in our conversation. You have a lot of people who look to you for answers. How does this feel and do you feel good about giving people answers. Both as Psychic TV and as individuals. 

G: In all honestly, with the phones at the museum… People rang up and said that we got them through the worst part of their life or changed their life or inspired them or they wouldn’t be who they are without what we have done… This happens, there is no way to deny that. In my case, it just gives me an ever deeper sense of responsibility to be more truthful and to keep on giving back however we can. Sharing what we have found or what we have experienced. It used to make me feel embarrassed. Why are they saying that to me? I know nothing. We still don’t think that we know anything particularly important, but at least we have a bank of experiences. A lot of these experiences are more extreme, intimate and scathing. That is what we have as a currency that we can share, and so we share it as much as we can and as clearly as we can. Trying to say things more clearly each time is the difficult part.

It’s hard not to say things the same exact way every single time. Sometimes we fall into that. We get asked the same questions ‘when did you name it industrial music?’. We have been asked this seven thousand times. In any way, it is good to know that we have been helpful to people.

E: Gen can tell you that I have spent most of my adult life mentoring people. Particularly younger people, and that is how I intend to spend my sage years.

J: And do you think that Psychic TV has helped to facilitate this mentoring?

E: Yes. Gen and I both share a sense of compassion. Mine might be a bit more extreme. I’ll go too far to try and help another person, and Gen will say ‘I’m going to bed’. But s/he has earned that

J: Sometimes you do just need to go to bed. You can’t help someone if you’re too tired.

G: Jaye did help me to become more compassionate. And vice versa, really. We were really good for each other in that way, and it got more positive as time went by, which is unusual and wonderful. We feel it is a responsibility to share anything that can be helpful and that all bands should be thinking that way, as well as all artists and writers. ‘How can what I do make this world a better place?’

Psychic TV is unusual in that way, I am sure you have noticed. A majority of our fans are really nice people, really caring people who really think about what it is to be alive and existing in this world, and what was it can both be bearable for them and hopefully more rewarding. So their is a spiritual and familial side to Psychic TV. The band it’s self, we get along so well. We are like a little family. It sounds corny but it’s true. Not like a family of little boys who get drunk every night and try to find girls but an actual family that loves and cares for each other.

E: We look forward to going on the road together and doing things together. It’s hardly a job in that way.

G: When things happen to any of us… Negative, awful… We’ve got each other to support us through it. When Lady Jaye dropped her body, everyone rallied around immediately with full love and compassion. When Alice lost her son… We have had tragedies happen to our band, but we take care of each other. We try to look after each others emotions as much as we can. I wish everyone were that way, instead of trying to be famous and rich. That is not on our agenda. At all.

The important stuff is to try and make the world a better place and help people to be less afraid. Less afraid of being generous with each other, sharing with each other, loving each other. All those things people hesitate over. I want to leave a legacy of less fear.

 

INTERVIEW WITH FLIPPER

Ever look at a flower and hate it? Ever feel stupid and know you really are? Ever watch David Yow order a dairy-free enchilada? Ever spill a beer on Stephen DePace? Well, have you… I have. So what.
On November 6, 2015, the legendary Flipper descended upon the Acheron for an intimate show with David Yow in tow doing vocals. I had an in to the sold out show, and while gushing excitedly to my roommates about the upcoming gig I had a brilliant idea: I should ask them for an interview! Fuck it! Much to my delight, they agreed! Too bad for them, I guess.
I will introduce this interview by admitting it is not my best work. I only had a day to prepare and when it came down to it, I had no fucking idea where to begin or end. I felt a little in over my head for the first time doing one of these damn things. Flipper are one of my all time favorite bands and as any fan knows, they have been through all sorts of mishaps and hell, including a lot of death.
When I arrived for my interview, the band was about to sound check. I awaited them at Anchored Inn, Acheron’s next door restaurant and bar. I drank. I received a photo of a former friend pissing on one of my bands tapes. Shots.
When the dudes were done, David Yow complimented me on my bangs and Stephen DePace invited me to join them while they got some food. We shot the shit casually. I wish I had rolled some tape, because it only went downhill from there, but I wanted to let the men enjoy their tacos in peace.
By the time audio began to roll, I was pretty wasted. I began the interview by squealing several times. I was instantly thrown way off track by their answer to my first question and just instantly derailed. All my intentions went out the window. I couldn’t get my shit together or keep any conversation rolling. I accidentally knocked a beer onto Stephen DePace’s lap. My voice grew octaves and octaves higher as the disaster went on, reaching a sort of Minnie Mouse impersonation. I stuttered. I couldn’t get my questions out. The dudes were tolerant.
Thankfully, Flipper had to take the stage about 15 minutes into our conversation and thus both parties were relieved of our respective torture. At least I got them to give me the scoop on that Moby rumor. And, most importantly, they fucking ruled. Every once in a while, one blows it. Unfortunately or me, I was blown’ chunks that night for sure. The following is what I managed to salvage.
27-exl
You’d had to face a lot of shit to continue playing as a band…
Stephen DePace: Oh, she’s going to try and be intelligent. I thought this was going to be what’s your favorite color?
What’s your favorite color?
David Yow: Pussy
[Interrupted by our drinks being served. I say I am thankful because I needed a shot. I very much did not need a shot.]
How do shows compare not to the good old days? Do you feel satisfied?

DePace :I think we are the best we have ever sounded, frankly.

Yow: The only time I saw Flipper before I joined was in 1982, and I never really saw em again until I was a part of us.

So, one of my favorite bands of all time is Throbbing Gristle

Yow: Yeah, I saw that Lisa Suckdog shirt, her mortal enemy is Genesis.

Well, I heard a rumor that you guys played the last ever Throbbing Gristle show, and I was wondering how that went down?

DePace: We did. It was 1980 in San Francisco. It was their last show until a reunion many, many years later. It was super loud. Around 2006, 7, 8 we played a show up in Portland Oregon and whatever configuration of their band that is was at that time marched into our show carrying a gigantic crucifix. It was bizarre.

Do you feel any affinity to weird, freaky electronic music like Throbbing Gristle?
DePace: Sure. I like anything that is good.

Are there any electronic based bands that you are particularily down with?

DePace: Well, it ain’t got that swing if it’s played by a thing. And that is just the codger in me. Early stuff like Kraftwerk or Tangerine Dream or ambient stuff I thoroughly enjoy. I have not heard any newer electronic stuff that really does it for me.

It’s so weird to me that you would be more into ambient stuff as opposed to hard hitting, fucked up stuff!

DePace: Nah, nah. I listen to Jazz, Psychedelic rock, David Allen Coe, Miles Davis.

Yow: Sleeping is just about my favorite thing. I never get to do it, at all, but I like it when I do. Cooking.

DePace: Have you head of a band called Barbed Wire Dolls?

No…

DePace: There are this punk band from Greece and they moved to LA about ten years ago. But they are so punk, even in their lifestyle. They are like nomads, always playing, always touring, constantly making records, for like ten years straight. They have played 45 countries and 600 or 700 shows. They are pretty amazing. I appreciate that, as far as bands go. That is sort of how it should be done.

Do you think less people are doing it right?

DePace: Yeah, I get bored easier. I have seen so many bands and so many shows.

What about playing them though?

DePace: Shows are still exciting to play, as long as it is a great venue, a great crowd, great energy. I’ve been bored at shows… Usually it is when the staff doesn’t care and the audience doesn’t care. But that doesn’t happen very often. I have to say that over the thirty plus years that I have been playing shows there have been very few bad shows.

What was the worst show?

Yow: The worst one for me was not when I was playing with Flipper, but when I was with Jesus Lizard. We played in Boise, Idaho at a place called the Zoo. It was an all ages show, fairly big room for the youngsters and a room in the back where the minors were not allowed in. I guess most of the audience was back there, but we couldn’t see them. There were three people in the room: a drunk Eskimo and two drunk frat dudes who would not stop heckling us. I don’t care. Usually I laugh at hecklers and am down for a challenge but it was humiliating. It was the only time I ever turned to the guys and said ‘why are we here? We don’t have the finish this’. I mean we have played shows before to two people or eight people but those three dumb-asses…

How did crowds compare with Scratch Acid?

Yow: In the old days, with Scratch Acid, people were more complacent. People seemed to give a shit about the Jesus Lizard. But we are not here to talk about that

[I spill my beer]

DePace: It’s okay. Nice beer smell. I have smelled worse, I am ready.

Alright, since I already spilled a beer on you, can I just go for the real dickhead question? So besides being pretty irritated by his music, Moby was a thorn in my side as an annoying costumer at a Vegan spot that I used to work at. I need you to confirm that he is lying about being a singer for Flipper.

DePace: No, he did! He sort of made it out to be like he was the Flipper singer for a while, but it was one night! He got up on stage with us for one night and sang. It was in his hometown in Connecticut. He just jumped on stage and sang with us. He knew all the words, he was a big fan. I think the singer at that time was passed out or high or arrested or something. For years he had it in his bio that he was one of the original singers of flipper. For years! This girl I know who ran a club in Germany called me and said ‘Moby is coming through, and we got his press kit and it says he was the original singer in Flipper, what is that all about’. I read it and thought, well, he embellished a little bit. But that’s okay, I like him.

Yow: Well a couple of years ago for Halloween I sang with Shellac as The Sex Pistols, so I was actually the original singer of The Sex Pistols.

Check out my weak stage dive at 20:50

 

WHY I USE MY BODY: PHOTO SET + INTERVIEW

The following is an interview conducted by Tamara Santibañez.for her newest zine, Ugly Dirty Nasty Noisy Vol. II. UDNN Vol. II is a series of thirteen interviews conducted with artists whose work deals with the human body.

Your recent solo show, “How I Use My Body”, featured photographs of a number of women engaging in a range of actions from choking to vomiting to cutting.  Can you elaborate on the show title?  The word “use” feels powerful and intentional, versus “abuse” which would put the participants in conflict with their own bodies.

“Why I Use My Body” was a series that depicted all female models engaging in self-inflicted corporal punishment as a response to trauma. I wanted to explore how self-harming behaviors have shaped my relationship to my gender and to myself. The definition of abuse is misuse. I believe in the purposeful use of my body and I think that self-harming behaviors can provide pleasure and clarity for some, and I happen to be one of those people. Being in pain or being uncomfortable is often a vital step in healing, even in cognitive therapy. When I look back at the photographs I took for “Why I Use My Body” I see transcendence, not misery.

PILLNINA

Your photos feel like discovered snapshots- like you stumbled across a cache of photos you weren’t meant to see when cleaning out your dead relative’s house.  That look conjures up ideas of a different, private world.  Is this an intentional storytelling or do you prefer your subjects to feel more contemporary and present?

Until very recently, I identified only as a writer and not as a photographer, even though I have been taking 35mm photography on a regular basis since I was eight years old. I only took pictures for myself for a very long time. Photography has always been an extension of my diary and of the storytelling of my own life. Any photo that I take that is premeditated is also directly autobiographical. I think all my photos have strong narrative, even when I am just taking a picture of kid I know at a punk show.

The private quality of your work can often make challenging subjects feel tender- giving violent or sexual subjects a sweet “secret life of girls” voyeuristic feel.  Do you think this is largely because of using female subjects?  Or because of the intimate nature of the acts themselves?

I could never achieve the photographs that I take with strangers. In the very least I could not work with a person unless I felt that I had a true connection to them. I’m always striving to capture intimate moments. I think my very best photographs are the ones that only I could have taken. I suppose that a voyeuristic feeling would be what I am aiming to achieve, in that sense.

I am closer to women in my life but I have very recently started photographing more men. Of course I make them wear makeup and piss on each other, but I am trying to do new things. I have been considering attempting a male counterpart to the female “Why I Use My Body” series.

chelseaforlorn

There is definitely a punk feminist politic to using your body in a way that is disgusting and repellent as a female.  Do you have a greater politic to staging scenes like this and asking women to do these things in a public way?

For sure. Apart from the childish joy that I get trying to just shock people and question conventionality, I am striving for a bit more. I think that documenting very truthful and private moments can be transgressive in the sense that capturing those moments can be very meaningful to people who feel alone in their experience. Giving vision and voice to feelings that are largely perceived as wrong and perverted gives the message to others on the outside that they are not alone.

I feel that this project has allowed me to be a documentarian of human experience and subculture that may not been clearly documented or defined quite yet. This was an important aspect to “Why I Use My Body”, as it was a direct response to womanhood and use of the body and performance. I believe that my whole life is a performance and I want to take control of my life and my body in a meaningful way. Because I consider myself an artist and because I consider my life a performance, I strive to live every moment of my life artfully and intentionally. In some way, these photos give purpose to events in my life that would otherwise be hidden and shameful. It is more a reclaiming of experience and a way for me to work out my own past so that I can move on. Because I asked models to perform in acts that they felt connected to, I hope that they felt the same way. When speaking to many of the models during and after the shoot, it was clear that they did.

HangedTit

How do your subjects endure throughout the process of staging these photos?  Did some find it challenging?  Empowering?  How does it affect your perception of your own body to be able to control it in these ways?

I sent out a public call for models within my own social circles online but only responded to people that I knew very well personally. I sent out a manifesto for the series to each model who expressed interest along with a list of the photo shoots that I wanted to take place. Part of that manifesto asked that each model only respond to prompts that they personally related to. When models responded to the manifesto we had an open dialogue about their relation to the prompt and how we could make each prompt work for both of us.

Staging the photos did not feel strange. In many cases the photo shoots became an opportunity for me to get to know my friends in a different way and share a really special experience of opening up about parts of our pasts that would never come up in conversation usually. I went to each models home when I could, so I would loose a little control by being in their preferred environment and they could be comfortable, even if that meant I had no idea what I was walking into or how I would shoot a photograph. Some of the shoots were more challenging than others but overwhelmingly I was taken aback by my friends’ willingness to participate. I somehow found the right women who wanted to do what they were doing. Everyone seemed to be smiling afterwards. I believe it was a needed release for many of the woman involved.

My perception of my body has not changed much since the shoots apart from feeling less alone. I am working hard to try and take better care of myself and my body but it is really challenging for me. I’ve spent so many years doing bad things that at this point they all feel good. Or at least normal.

Pisspants

LauraSpit

Cold&Flu

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Tiffah

Why I Use My Body was originally displayed for two months at Mata Gallery in Los Angeles. UDNN is available here. Special thanks to Tamara for including me and allowing me to repost her interview, it was an honor and a pleasure to be included. You can view her splendid work here.

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