Archers of Loaf: Not in Decline

Axel Oberg: I've always wondered about the band name Archers of Loaf. Where does that originate from?

Matt Gentling: It's just a word salad, basically. Back in the day, we didn't expect to last that long as a band, so we didn't put that much thought into the name. People were insatiable to have some sort of meaning ascribed to it, so we started making up answers that were kind of fun, but I've gotten out of practice on it. [laughter]

AO: My friend thought ,"Okay, these guys are in the backyard, aiming at a loaf of Wonder bread with a bow and arrow."

MG: [laughter] That's actually pretty similar to David Yow's [The Jesus Lizard] impression of it! When he and I had gotten to talking about it, I thought, "Wow this is going to be good." But it was pretty down to earth, for David Yow. I thought it was going to be something dirty or disgusting but he went green on that one, instead of blue. [laughter]

AO: 2022's record, Reason in Decline, following a 20 year gap between albums, has a classic Archers' tonality. Has your equipment changed much? I'm glad to see that Travis Bean bass guitar still rocking.

MG: My own equipment has changed almost none, surprisingly. A pedalboard has been the new addition, but other than that I'm still using the same cabinets and same bass since forever. The other guys have dabbled in some different equipment. Eric Johnson was mainly using a Mesa Boogie, now he's got a little Fender amp; I forget what model it is. Mark [Price] has always had different drums, starting with Ludwig to Slingerland to Sonor to a Ludwig stainless steel kit. He's back to playing Ludwig's now; just a regular wooden kit.

AO: During the band's long duration, do you find that the songwriting gets easier or harder?

MG: I don't think it's gotten any more or less difficult, but the methods by which we do it have sort of changed. All throughout the 1990s we had a similar M.O., in which Eric Bachmann or Eric Johnson would come up with a riff structure or some lyrics, then present them, and we'd go back and forth over them. In our weekly practice we had a system in which whomever presented the idea would explain the mood that they wanted. We'd listen and I'd find a bass part that made sense to me. Then a lot of the back and forth would begin. I think the most interesting part of our songwriting process back then was that oftentimes, like an hour or so into our three hour practice of trying hammer out a brand new song, Eric Johnson would get frustrated, and he'd have a hard time coming up with ideas.

AO: It happens to the best.

MG: We'd take a break, and three of us would go to the nearby convenience store for some beer and snacks. When we'd get back, Eric [Johnson] would have been playing the entire time we were gone. He'd say, "How does this part sound?" He'd play this part that sounded bizarre, and I couldn't figure out how it would fit in with the song. We'd then play it all together, and all of sudden it would start sounding really cool. I’d say, "How did you think of that? What is up with your brain?" [laughter] That sort of template only changed on a superficial level for the modern times, in that we send files back and forth instead of standing in a room. It has its advantages and disadvantages. The biggest disadvantage being that we didn't have the immediate back and forth feedback that we get when everyone is in a room. Mark was important on our arrangements; he's really good at arranging songs. Lately, it was mostly Eric Bachmann doing the heavy lifting, in that he would get ahold of Eric Johnson and hash things out for a while before they would even mention the song to me or Mark. Then they'd send the files, because we are all in different places. With other bands I'd been in I would receive a demo that would already have a bass part on it, and no matter how hard I try to ignore that, it still affects the part I come up with. I liked the fact that with Archers the files I got had just the guitar parts they'd come up with, and maybe some lyrics. That free rein made it fun. Instead of, "You play this bass part," it was, "Now you come up with a bass part." We've always been a very democratic band, and I've always loved that. It wouldn't be out of place for me to say something like, "That guitar part should only be half that long." We all weigh in our opinions until we come up with a consensus.

AO: Do you ever use your phones to send ideas back and forth.

MG: absolutely. Sometimes I'll use the voice recorder or the video feature to do what I call the "Ozzy Notation," of me going "junt- junt- duh- nah-jun- naw" just to remember a part.

RB: Like Beavis and Butt-Head?

MG: Exactly! [laughter]

AO: How old were you when you decided, "This is it. Music is my life"?

EB: For me, I wanted it to be my life when I was 13. In high school, I was tall and athletic. Being from North Carolina, I was being pushed to play basketball. I'm competitive is some ways, but not in that way. Still, I was being recruited by different universities. In my heart, I knew my real love was music. But the way I was raised, it was just seen as a dumb-ass pipe dream to want to try for that. I was told, "You can't do that. You've got to be a doctor or at least start an insurance agency." That fucks a kid up.

Robert Brooks: Very true.

EB: With my kid, I tell him the opposite of what I was told. "If you want to do anything: act, direct, write novels, or play music: Do it. You can find a way to make a living." What you want to tell your kids, is, "You do you. Do what you need to do." I asked my dad if I could get a saxophone and take saxophone lessons. He had his concerns and wasn't un-supportive. He rented one for me. To answer your question, by the time I was 22 I had made the decision, "This is what I'm going to do. This is how I'm going to make my living, even if I have to live in a van outside of Walmart to do so."

MG: For me, it was probably around age 22. I'd always loved music, but never dreamed I'd be doing it to this extent. It always seemed like such a star shot, so it wasn't until my 20s that I allowed myself to entertain the notion that this was at all possible.

RB: Were your parents supportive?

MG: Yeah, definitely. There is always that initial instinctual parental worry that, "This is frivolous and could ruin your life," but they definitely supported it. They didn't like the music. My parents came to see us on my Mom's 50th birthday here in Asheville [NC]. We're a loud, abrasive band. My mom was so sweet when she said, "It sounds better from the bathroom, Matty." [laughter] If your parents like it, maybe you need to edge it up a bit! They enjoy the new music a little more. When I moved back to Asheville in 1997, I built a house on some of their land in 1999 with money I'd saved up from doing Archers, believe it or not.

RB: Do you prefer playing live or recording.

MG: The shows have great energy. I love the power of playing live. The response from the audience has been great. I like meeting new people, but the social aspects of touring can be taxing on me. After a weekend tour, I feel like I need a week in a cave to recharge my batteries. On the other hand, I do have horrible red light fever. Once that red light comes on, I sometimes forget how to play my instrument!

AO: I'm assuming at least one of you has a home recording setup?

MG: Eric Bachmann has built an addition on to his house and did a gorgeous job of construction. He has some great equipment in there. Eric Johnson has more of a bedroom studio, using [Apple] Logic. He gets some great sounds. He has a project called Spooky J and he has me come over sometimes to lay down a bass part. He can play bass just fine, so I think it's mostly out a sense of comradery. He said he likes having a different point of view and different ideas come into it.

AO: I love the production of the first song, "Human," on Reason in Decline; how it starts relatively quiet and then explodes. Was that that intentional?

EB: Not in this case. I had written it to be a much more mellow song, with just piano, voice, and candelabra.

AO: Speaking of piano, one song that's always been a favorite is "Chumming the Ocean" from All the Nations Airports.

EB: What gives that song the mood is Brian Paulson [Tape Op #78], who produced the album. The song had this nice elementary school talent show ballroom sound to it. Brian had this idea of, "How about you just pick a tone that will work for whole song, and we'll reverse it. You'll play it on the piano, do it in tempo, and we'll loop it backwards." We had access to an old upright, which fit the mood and gave it the right character. I grew up in North Carolina, and on the Outer Banks there are always shark attacks. People are always there looking for those old WWII U-boats. Shark attacks happen all the time out there.

RB: Eric, tell us about your songwriting process?

EB: Being a parent, I'm on 24/7, so I grab things whenever I can. I always have a hard time sleeping. One thing that helps put me to sleep is that I'll play music that I'm working on via my phone as I try to go to sleep and try to come up with lyrics then. It's like the best lyric ideas come when you're not really trying. Then I wake up in the middle of the night going, "I just got an idea for that!" It's been horrible for my sleep, but I do get work done when I do that. [laughter] Also, when I'm driving I make a point to not listen to music, and lyric ideas will appear. I can pair them with melodies I've got floating around in my head. It's just nonstop. It's a good habit in a way, but it's not that healthy. It's definitely a pathology.

RB: You've worked with a variety of engineers and producers over the years.

EB. Yeah, we've always worked with different folks. We used Caleb Southern on the first album [Icky Mettle] , Bob Weston [Tape Op #18, #86] on the next two [Vee Vee, Vs the Greatest of All Time], and then Brian Paulson on the next two after that [All the Nations Airports, White Trash Heroes], and then we broke up. On Reason in Decline, we worked with Alex Farrar and Adam McDaniel at Drop Of Sun Studios [in Asheville, NC].

AO: It's such a beautiful studio they made down there. Did you stay in the studio's apartment?

EB. Yeah, we did. That whole relationship was very fortuitous. When we first met those guys, we were just looking for a place to rehearse. Adam had a studio in his basement where we rehearsed for the reunion tour. Meanwhile, he was in the process of building Drop of Sun. We didn't know that initially, until Adam mentioned, "When I finish building out my studio you could consider recording the album with us." It was a complete no brainer. Alex Farrar, the engineer, is a cool dude; we just loved those guys. Sara Jane, the studio manager, is an old friend we knew from Athens, [GA]. We knew we had to work with them; it felt like family.

AO: Having worked with Bob Weston on previous records, how was it working with him on this new album as the mastering engineer? Did you attend the session?

EB: For me, the process of writing and recording a record is so emotionally taxing that I can't really deal with that final technical side, so I don't attend the mastering sessions. I've been friends with Bob for many years. We had dinner in Chicago during the tour, and we talk about every six months or so. In fact, last time he called me was when he was mastering our record. He had a question for me, but I didn't get back to him in time, so he just made the decision. That is totally fine. In fact, that's why we wanted him to master the record. He's like family, and I totally trust him.

AO: When you listen back to the albums you've made, spanning many years, do they ever take you back to certain times in your life, or geographic place, in which you recorded it?

EB: Not so much a time or place, but the songs take me back to a mood or a certain part of my personality that was there back when we made the song. Those feelings are still here with me now. I feel lucky that people still care. I'm grateful that the music we made back then, which we didn't always take too seriously, is still being taken seriously now.

RB: Any advice for Tape Op's readership? For those playing in bands and/or doing studio work?

MG: Yes. Without being taken advantage of, say yes to stuff. And that the personalities of those people you choose to work with are usually more important than their musical skills. They've got to be a good hang. Also, make sure that whatever you're doing pleases you. Make sure you're enjoying it. Until other people start enjoying it, it's going to have to be you.