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Folk Meets Noise Meets Whatever
Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore on Nashville’s noise scene
by Jaime Lees
Sonic Youth play Friday, 25th at City Hall w/Leslie Keffer

As a singer and guitarist for America’s preeminent indie rock band, Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore has devoted the better part of three decades to engaging and electrifying the alternative underground scene. A life-long booster of punk rock and punk ethics, Moore believes in doing it all (and doing it all by himself). His many projects include scoring film soundtracks, playing in other bands, releasing solo work, running his own label, guesting in documentaries and writing and editing books.

With the recent album releases of Sonic Youth’s spectacular Rather Ripped and Moore’s own deliciously lo-fi Trees Outside the Academy, he has been roundly praised as being at the top of his game. His small record label, Ecstatic Peace!, has found success with quite a few Nashville bands, most notably with the noisy garage rock of Be Your Own Pet. Moore enthusiastically describes BYOP as “totally hot” and elaborates, “I remember thinking, who are these kids? When I was 17, I was just mowing lawns and being very afraid of girls and stuff. And these guys were on the road, punking-out across the world.”

Moore claims roots in McKenzie, Tenn., and therefore, good “Tennessee radar,” so it’s no surprise that he’s tuned in to regional acts, or that Nashville is one of only five show dates for Sonic Youth in April. Between Moore’s fondness for Grimey’s New & Preloved Music and deep, historical knowledge of the Nashville underground music scene, he could easily pass as a lovably weird local noise dude.

We caught up with Moore over the phone last week, and his passion, humor and laid-back boyish charm clearly translated across the wire.

Scene: So aside from Be Your Own Pet and Turbo Fruits, who else on your label is from the area?

Moore: Well, Leslie Keffer moved to Nashville from Ohio, and she makes harsh underground noise music. She sets up her own sort of idiosyncratic kind of noise gear with radios and cassette tapes and stuff. And there’s a certain kind of pure sound that she deals with, you know? She kind of filters radio signals into this kind of noise wash and I thought it was good stuff, so I kind of reached out to her. She’s a huge Be Your Own Pet fan and we were putting their records out. And she sort of hooked up with Angela Messina—there’s this whole Nashville noise underground of bands and [Messina] was in a bunch of them, like Taiwan Deth, Tan as Fuck, The New Faggot Cunts and I think she was in Vegan Brand. [laughs]

Scene: Those band names are all…uh…poetry.

Moore: [laughs] She’s kind of an artist and poet. And she’s been on the scene for a while and she’s great. There’s also this other guy in Nashville that I really like. His name is Derek Schartung, he’s in the underground Nashville noise scene [also in Taiwan Deth] and plays really good stuff. Then there’s bands like Cherry Blossoms. They’re really great. They had a record out that was really happening. [It was] open-ended, kind of beautiful folk meets noise meets whatever.

Scene: How are you finding time to get all of the stuff done that you get done?

Moore: I’m kind of trying to figure that out myself, you know? Sometimes it gets really overwhelming and I start having anxiety attacks and I just sort of want to climb under the covers and escape it all and hope it all goes away. But the thing is, I’m so enamored by this stuff. I love it. I always wanted to be in a position where I could actually make records and make books and make cassettes and make films and write and play music…. That was my ambition as an adult…to be able to do that.

Scene: What are you doing with your down time, if you ever have any?

Moore: That doesn’t include getting together with some people doing cross-country improvised noise music in basements, which is what I really want to do? Or starting a black metal band and like completely disguising myself as a black metal guitar player in a nefarious, bleak and dim black metal band, which is also what I would love to do? Do you mean, how do I step away and what do I do? [laughs] Hmm…. I guess I sort of do what any normal person would do—I’d start watching successive episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer!

Scene: Are you doing anything today for Record Store day?

Moore: Record store day is today, isn’t it?

Scene: It is!

Moore: I was gonna come down to Grimey’s and sort of totally hang out and drink beers and get into the groove of the day, but you know what? It’s not gonna happen. I’m here and I’m babysitting my 13-year-old. Not babysitting, I’m child-rearing.

Scene: You produce a lot of limited-edition cassettes and LPs on Ecstatic Peace!

Moore: Nobody buys records anymore. So it’s hard to do things on any level. It’s really super-duper slumped right now. Nobody buys records. I mean, that’s why, in a way, for me, it’s more rewarding and more fun sometimes to make real boutique edition stuff of real subterranean artists.

Scene: So about this show on Friday.

Moore: I hope people show up.

Scene: I don’t think that’s a problem for you.

Moore: Yeah, well, it’s kind of a big place. You hope people show up and have a good time. That’s all we can say, it’s gonna be a good time in a sonic way.

• article - link
• Estatic Peace! - website
• Thurston Moore solo - website
• Sonic Youth - website
• photo credit - Dave Markey

Using Their Illusion: Ferocious — and funny — locals the Livers hope video builds the radio star
By Jaime Lees
Published: April 23, 2008
9 p.m. Friday, April 25. The Bluebird, 2706 Olive Street. $7 21-plus, $10 under 21. No phone.www.myspace.com/bluebirdstl.

BFFs Scot Freeman and Luke Roulston hit a rough patch last year. Mired in typical twentysomething malaise, they found themselves working too hard, drinking too much and continually complaining about their lack of a creative outlet. Both were seasoned musicians who admired each other’s skills and former bands (Freeman’s Chiaroscuro and Roulston’s Poe’s Music for Weirdos), and so as an extension of their bromance, these multi-instrumentalists decided to quit their bitching and put together a new band.

There was just one problem: They only wanted to play with each other.

Freeman and Roulston began trying to find a way to multiply their sound without adding any extra people. They jokingly wished they could form a band with clones of themselves to fill out the empty instrument positions. As the story goes, one day Roulston said, “What if we just did that?” And so after considerable preparation and months of trial and error, they managed to invent something brand new: a four-person rock band with just two band members.

This is accomplished by both Livers playing guitar in front of a prerecorded video of themselves as the rhythm section (with Roulston on bass and Freeman on drums). But the virtual band members don’t just play, they also have names (Karl and Merl), distinctive personalities and sassy attitudes. Through the magic of painstaking video editing and green-screen wizardry, all four band members have the ability to interact with each other. (In fact, the video Livers frequently talk back to the live Livers.)

This elaborate presentation is helped along by Zak Thenhaus, the unofficial third (fifth?) Liver. Similar to the Wizard of Oz, Thenhaus fills the role of the unseen magical man behind the curtain (or video screen) who assists the real-life Livers in their video interactions, largely by handing them props. Between songs every last Liver gets to catch a break as hilarious commercial-like clips — such as a Laverne & Shirley spoof, or one for Evan Williams brand whiskey — appear on the video screen. (These riotous, between-song bits are also known as the “interstitiary videos” in Freeman’s professional-speak.)

The result is both spectacularly effective and logistically bewildering. Roulston dryly explains, “Yeah, it’s kind of our motto: ‘To do everything the hardest way possible.’”

Entering the Livers’ headquarters — a.k.a. Roulston’s spacious Benton Park bedroom — one immediately begins to get an idea of just how detailed the band’s production process must be to pull off this kind of act. The vast space is part living area and part artist workshop, with enough cameras, lights and cables to outfit a television studio. In addition to the clothes, electronics, books and numerous art pieces strewn around, tiny strips of green tape on the wood floors mark frequently used instrument and filming positions. It is here that all of the “rhythm section” and comedic segments are taped.

Though these ingenious videos and fun live additions make the band instantly unique, without competent songwriting and playing prowess, the Livers would be little more than an interesting live art project. But the band’s tunes stand alone and can be enjoyed, even separate from its shtick.

The admitted “control freaks” extended their hands-on attitude to their debut album, Vino in Uriam Mutando, which they self-mixed. Recorded locally at Firebrand Recording studios, Vino sounds strikingly professional (with solid lyrics, wicked riffs and intimidatingly heavy drum hits) and contains recordings of a few songs that are quickly becoming audience favorites. Freeman’s “Autistic Girlfriend” was written as a “rock juggernaut” about a cold lady with insincere feelings and “a hole where her heart should go.” In contrast, Roulston’s “She-Wolf” is a wistful, gently sung pop-punk musing on missed opportunities and misdirected emotions. Other standout tracks include the sweetly seductive “Humble Plight” (a salute to the pleasures of love and makin’ love) and “2 Legs to Dance,” a jolting bass-and-beat-filled swoop into the world of dance rock that implores listeners to get up, get drunk and start dancing.

Between the Livers’ unprecedented musical presentation and strong tunes, it’s rumored that the young band has already been fielding label and distribution interest. When questioned on this development, both guys just smile and coyly decline to discuss this topic on the record, claiming superstition. It wouldn’t be surprising; the band contains the kind of natural charisma and overflowing raw talent that label scouts are always looking to unearth. Plus, Freeman and Roulston seem to have a very brotherly relationship — where both compliments and playful ribbing are common — and both are good-natured, smart and funny as hell.

On meshing their musical styles:
Scot Freeman: Luke’s music is really complicated and the time signatures are all weird and stuff and I can only play, like, uh…
Luke Roulston: 3/4 and 4/4 or a combination thereof. [Laughs]
Freeman: Yeah! Really, just like, Top 40. I just wanna play riffs and sing soaring choruses and that kind of stuff. So when I write a song it’s usually really simple but his stuff is all over the place and I’m like, “I’m gonna go ahead and dumb this shit down.”
Roulston: Well, that’s called “rocking it up.”

On their perfectionism in the videos:
Freeman: I think I’ve worked harder on this than on anything I’ve worked on, ever. There have been times that my actual job has bummed me out, but there have been times with this shit where I wanna cry.
Roulston: It’s toil.
Freeman: There’s been times when we worked on this 50 or 60 hours a week, while still working our regular jobs 40 hours a week. I mean, [we were] working to the point where it’s almost ruined friendships and relationships.
Roulston: But the best thing about it is, the other members of the band? They don’t seem to argue! [Laughs]
Freeman: On the videos, I’m of the opinion that Luke could pretty much fake it, that he could hit some wrong notes. But he refuses. He refuses to hit one wrong note, even though it wouldn’t matter.
Roulston: If there was a bass player [in the audience] that actually had perfect pitch and knew his shit, he would know.
Freeman: And that’s why he obsesses. We’ll get done taping and he’s like “I missed a note,” and I’m like “I played it fucking perfectly! I’m bleeding!” and he’s like “Let’s do it again.” And I’m like “Fuck!” and I fucking duct-tape my hand back together, [and] do it again.

On the band’s sound and influences:
Roulston: Thus far, we’ve been compared to ’90s music. But I love ’90s music. Our big influences are the Jesus Lizard and the Pixies and Nirvana and the Foo Fighters and, you know, just hard-hitting drums. And he [Freeman] plays better than most drummers I’ve ever seen.
Freeman: Yeah, all my favorite bands are fucking gone. Jesus Lizard and fuckin’ Seaweed, Failure, whatever. Bands that nobody remembers.
Roulston: At least the Pixies came back, I guess. You know what I liked? When Frank Black came to the Duck Room. That was a really fucking awesome show. I have nothing but respect for him. Actually, I have nothing but respect for anybody in the Pixies. They’re just… God! What a great fucking band! I would say, like, that’s the band that I would aspire to lick their…
Freeman: Junk!

• article - link
• interview outtakes - link
• The Livers - videos
• The Livers - MySpace
• Lo-Fi St. Louis - video link

• link

The Safes
9 p.m. Saturday, March 5. The Bluebird, 2706 Olive Street
By Jaime Lees
Published: April 2, 2008

The Safes groove a familiar sound that is wholly unoriginal but entirely excellent, by nodding to Brit-garage, Mod and all kinds of power pop. (Think early Kinks spliced with any bubbly Superchunk tune.) The Chicago trio’s 2007 release Well, Well, Well earned the brothers O’Malley — and they’re real brothers, not “band brothers” à la the Ramones — plenty of positive attention from tastemakers like Pitchfork. Some of the Safes’ studio detail is lost in translation live; the blasting rock elements overpower the music’s pop intricacies. But its show always brings a welcome punch of rock & roll fun — and a chance to shake your tail feather.

• article - link
• The Safes - website
• The Safes - myspace
• photo credit: Andrew Ballentyne