Another fact is that last year they released one of the best American records in a long time, Deserter Songs. Recorded by the hot producer of the day, Dave Fridmann, it was an instant classic. We were lucky enough to talk to Jonathan and Grasshopper on their swank tour bus when they rolled through Cleveland. They were very forthright and honest with their answers and really seemed to enjoy themselves. It was a great show, as expected. Thanks to the boys, Roberta at V2 (for all her help and patience) and Jason for holding the recorder!
First things first: Your record is great. I know everybody has told you that but it's really true. Anyway, you recorded this record at three different places, right?
Mostly at our studio in the Catskills, and Dave's — a lot of the mixing was done at Dave's. A lot of it was just done at our house — the bass and overdubbing.
Dave's place is Tarbox, right?
Yeah.
Is Tarbox sort of a big place — dimension wise? Is it his house or...?
It's a converted house. A really large place — sort of like a barn. Not an old house, a new one. A big vaulted ceiling where the living room used to be. Dave's partner, Greg, sort of re-vamped the house and moved some walls and stuff.
The record has a really big sound to it, like on the drums and I figured you were laying those down in a pretty decent sized space.
Well, the space is large and there's a slate floor. Most of the drums on our record and I know Wayne's [Coyne, of the Flaming Lips, who also did their record at Tarbox with Dave Fridmann] too, we only used two mics.
There are a lot less guitars on this record than on the previous ones and that seems to be happening, lately with you, the [Flaming] Lips, and to a lesser extent, us [the Witch Hazel sound]...
Well, I think most people tend to change a little bit. I don't think anybody would want to be stuck with just orchestral sounds...
Yeah, it just seems to me to be a real zeitgeist. Obviously we aren't calling each other up to find out what the next thing is. It just seems to be happening naturally...
I think it's just laziness, [laughter] you know? I think it's pure laziness on the part of not really wanting to spend 20 hours fiddling with guitar pedals — finding an amp that works...
Yeah, plus it's just plain fun to record strings...
Yeah...
Lets talk about gear.
You know, Dave's studio is relatively basic. He doesn't have a lot of bells and whistles — he just has a great ear. I think that he has gear which he feels comfortable with and not a lot of sirens and foghorns and things like that. Anything of that nature, the band probably brings themselves.
It's more of the environment...
I think so. He has a wonderful big, black mixing desk — Otari I think it is — a big old thing. A lot of it, I think, is from him doing so many records he sort of pares down to what it is he feels comfortable using...
He knows what works.
Yeah, and a lot of the other stuff, he just doesn't feel any charm towards.
Is there anything significantly different about the recording of this record than from the previous ones?
I think on the past records it was actually more helter-skelter. We would just sort of go in at night, when we could get cheap studio time. I think the first two records were probably mixed on an old Peavey board. [laughter] A lot of that, (with ourselves, Dave, Wayne and Michael) we were all cutting our teeth and actually learning how to work within the studio because we never really had the money to have a great studio — where it just came through a great preamp and it sounded good. It was always sort of fudging around. It half worked and half didn't — there were things you didn't know anything about. We've all sort of grown up as our bands have all gotten bigger, but the mindset is still there — that you never really trust equipment. It helps that Dave owns his own studio now, in that he can do whatever he wants. It's all his equipment. He knows what he has and that makes it all the more easier, and quicker, than going to a bigger studio.
You've pretty much worked with Dave exclusively. He's good at what he does, but I assume the comfort level you have with him is appealing too, right?
It just began as him playing bass with us in the band and he was the only one who knew what the different knobs meant. [laughter] He was a student at Fredonia University [near Buffalo] doing engineering classes and he would have some of that free midnight to 8 a.m. studio time — our first record was his senior project. Yourself Is Steam was handed in as his senior project.
That's a pretty good senior project. [laughter]
So, the same with the stuff we were doing with the Lips and things at that point. It was basically, "I have some cheap time at a university studio. Not much gear but you can mess around with it. Come on, let's go." That also helps that at Fredonia there are kids who go to music school. If you want horns or strings, they're eager to come and play and that's kind of a plus.
Were there any records or anything that you had been listening to that made you come to Dave and say, "Oh, I really dig this sound." Do you ever come in like that?
We're all pretty close. He [Dave], and I and Sean [Grasshopper] are all pretty much on the same wavelength. We really don't know what it is we want. We generally know what it is we don't want. Those are the things that when they rear their ugly head all three of us will reach for the panic button [laughter] and press "erase" quite quickly. Sometimes there is a battle there, but for the most part you just sort of listen to the music and try and not repeat yourself too often. If some of our earlier records were a bit more aggressive and even abrasive in terms of their tone, then this one was probably a subconscious effort to make it sound like a really worn-out cassette. Something that had a comfort level immediately by putting it in.
Probably my favorite part of the record is the little instrumental things, like segues between songs. Did you ever feel like you're sitting there surrounded by glockenspiels [laughter] and wondering, "Does this belong on a rock/pop record?" Does that ever come up?
It does, but only in the way of how you present it. We don't really think of them so much as instrumentals, sometimes they just act as nice segues to give the listener sort of a breather from something that is either 2/4 or 4/4 or heavy orchestral, something so that you can step out of it. We really haven't done many instrumentals in the past and I think that probably some of these would have had words but it was laziness. [laughter] You're forced to really express yourself without words. It sort of ups the challenge to say, "Well, is this instrumental really kicking our ass or is this just muzak for the sake of it?" Generally, people can tell the difference quite quickly on the first listen, "Does this sound like filler or does this have a purpose? Is it setting up another song quite well?" I think, for those reasons, it's something we're all quite conscious of. We could do instrumentals out the ass for the next 30 years but is it really doing something? Is it saying something? I think the same thing that runs through anyone's mind certainly runs through ours if not more, because we're in a sort of high public eye. Every little thing tends to be over-analyzed when all you can say is, "Hey, we were just having fun." It was not meant to change music, it's really to just have a little fun for two minutes.
I see that Deserter Songs was mastered by Greg Calbi [of Masterdisc]. The reason I bring that up is that when we did the interview with Don Dixon he mentioned how Calbi is the only guy he uses for mastering. Is that the same with you guys? Or did Dave or the label point him out?
No, Grasshopper had just seen his name around. There's another guy there who is equally as good as Calbi, but for whatever reason, we worked with Greg and it seemed to work out. He had a few ideas that certainly helped the record out — in that process.
So many musicians don't seem to understand mastering. Could you talk about what you think the mastering did for this record or what you think of mastering in general and why you think people should do it?
Well, there are a couple of different schools and we talk about it quite often. There are a lot of groups that record a bunch of crap and believe if you send it to Bob Ludwig [#105], he's going to turn it around and make it sound like Sgt. Pepper... or Pet Sounds. That's really not the case. There's other bands that sort of do their record and send it to someone else and say, "Well, put your stamp of approval on it or give us your sound."
Give us your sonic imprint!
Yeah, so that nineteen different Howie Weinberg [#30] records all sound somewhat the same. I'm just using names for whatever reason, but for us, we go in there and we're very meticulous. We spent a year recording, why would you go in for the last 2 crucial days just get fucked up and do nothing or send it in the mail and hope it comes back? We're there and we always tend to look at the masterer as somebody who can articulate your ideas in that final step. Maybe someone who will give an alternative or something you hadn't thought of. Greg would do that, we'd say, "Well, it's not warm enough." He'd say "Well, I can do this or I can do this," instead of just saying, "I'm gonna do this the way I do it and fuck you." You have to listen to other records, basically. You'll find a continuity there amongst maybe even one guy's records, either Neil Young's or John Lennon's records. You can say, "Well, that's really good, and probably Greg Calbi had a lot to do with those Lennon records." So, why not? If you want a "modern rock" sound, there are guys who just do that sort of sound.
I remember when we were mixing our last record that we were using Hawaii by the High Llamas as a reference disc and we were commenting on how great it sounded and that the guy who mastered that at Abbey Road did a great job. Everything was there. It was warm, all the frequencies were there, but nothing was overbearing. We were just stunned. That's the kind of record you play for people to let them hear what mastering and recording is about.
I know Sean O'Hagen [head High Llama] is very intelligent in the way of knowing records, especially Beach Boys' records. You can hear a lot of that spatial influence within the High Llamas, things are spatially appropriate. People think that, "Well, just because it's stereo, you put one here and one here and that makes it a wide sounding record." It's not true, it's the depth perception that gives you that and that's just through experience. Good records are generally associated with people who made a lot of poor records, including us. Meaning records that didn't stand up to what you thought or hoped they might've been at the time. You learn and sometimes people think you throw a pan program on and that makes it spooky or psychedelic. It's just not the case. It's always "less is more". It's not what you play, it's what you don't. Once you develop that confidence in the band or even working with producers that can give you that confidence to say, "You know, you guys have got some really great parts, let's work with them. You don't have to write 32 more." That's where you begin to move forward.
Is there a favorite mic you like to use for your vocals?
Umm, Dave uses big, tall silver ones. [laughter] Probably Neumann U47s or something...
C12s maybe, too?
Yeah, I think there might've been. It's gotta be something Dave would know. But, yeah, they are usually big old things. They have a warmer sound. I have a lot of sibilance in my voice so he has to sort of shield that...
When you lay down vocals, do you sing with effects in your headphones?
Maybe some slight reverb here and there depending on the song, but for the most part, we really don't effect them much.
When you lay down vocals, do you sing in a small space or do you set up in the big room?
It's just out of laziness, wherever the mic is...
Have you even recorded in the control room, just sitting there listening to playback?
Yeah, literally. At some point I think you can understand where certain rooms are better, but for the most part it's really just the voice and you've got to try and work your best wherever it is. If the mic is out in the big room, than that's where I go. If it's in the kitchen, thats where I go. [laughter]
A very scientific process...
It's just the way we grew up making records. There never used to be 14 isolation booths and 32 padded rooms. There was only just a kitchen and a garage or this and that and you just went up there and gave it hell. It's just like playing a bigger club now or a smaller club years ago, it's like, "Okay, there's no monitors, fuck it." You do your best and go up there and kick it out — letting everything else get to you sort of defeats the purpose, at least for our band and some of the groups we've been associated with. The mics are just sitting there on the drums or on an amp anyway, so we just pull it over... [laughter] Dave has an ear for things, but even he's not too particular in certain instances. You know, it's, "Are you gonna go do your voice?" "Yeah, what mic should I use?" He'll say, "Just grab one off the drum kit."
That's funny because our studio is a lot like that and sometimes we get an inferiority complex when you look at these massive, mega-studios, but in your case for example, you don't really need that...
Well, it just breeds imagination and creativity. If everything is done for you and there are three guys to walk a mic out there for you and two to hand you a Reese's peanut butter cup, you tend to lose focus. We've worked in many big studios and BBC studios and all that and it just boils down to the song. I think certain gear helps certain engineers get there faster — rather than dicking around for 3 hours with poor EQs or crackily wires — that makes a difference, but for the actual performance of the song...
I think another strength of our situation is like Eno's philosophy. He was quoted as saying, "There are too many options in a modern studio." You can almost use your limitations as a strength.
Yeah, like Pro Tools. There are a million things you can do, but how much...? You can be there for hours dicking around, but if you don't have that, play the part right the first time...
When you're faced with near infinite options, what's a sane person to do?
Infinite options also get people to think, "Well the snare is not exactly on the click 40 bars in there." This was one of the first records we began using a click and it's valuable to sort of have some consistency, but at the same time you don't want to be a slave to it — where everything sounds so perfect. Then you're getting into Peter Gabriel-land. And that's just somewhere...
Well, don't the songs that sort of speed up at the chorus sound better?
It just depends on the music and the band. A lot bands may have a hit record their first time out and they really don't realize what it is that they did on the record or how they can grow. They just hear the song on the radio and turn to the producer and say, "Let's just do it again." The same thing over and over. A lot of groups, like ourselves, and the Lips and other groups — you know, commercial success hasn't been banging our doors down. So, you're forced to create your own sort of world, your own paradise where all your songs are hits in your mind. [laughter] That drives you — you say, "Yes, I know the Supremes had hits, but they're great songs. Let's look at the good shit. Let's not listen to the bad shit. Let's look at some of the good things." I think in all our minds, we are deluded but you sort of have to have self-confidence to say, "Well, our songs could be hits, maybe in the '40s or in the '30s, but they could've been, they should be." When you have that approach, you really try hard. You just don't think, "Oh, we've got 3 hit songs and 9 fillers. Let's concentrate on 3 songs and we'll leave the rest for some other guy to mix." For all of us, we work so hard at every little detail and most of it's just erasing constantly in the studio. [laughter] For every part that's on the record, 400 have been erased — blatant, miserable failures. Things that were... "That's a great idea, that's really gonna rock this world." Then you hear it the next morning and you're like, "What the fuck were we thinking?" It's the things that you're most afraid of on your record that strike people the hardest. The things that you're really unsure of... "Did we push it too far? Did we do something that even we don't know what's been done?" Those are things that stand out. The things that we found that we're most confident in.. "Yeah, we nailed it. That's a rockin' one." Everybody just goes, "Hmmm, okay." And it's the things that you thought were kinda scary. Those are the things that stand out. The more balls you have, the more you find your record is filled with frightful things to yourself. Things that you didn't imagine you could do or you don't even know how you did.
What was it like working with Levon Helm and Garth Hudson [of The Band]? The drums sound exactly the same way as they do on Music from Big Pink. I was just stunned by that...
He just sits down and it's instant Levon, add water... Yeah, I was stunned by it. It really must be the player, you know? Because here we are 30 years later and the drums sound the same. But Levon has a funny way of playing. He's not a heavy hitter. He doesn't wail on them, so that was one song that Dave had to fudge with a bit in terms of the EQ because Levon hits very lightly, very dynamically. So some kick drum [hits] will be very quiet and others will be like, "thud, thud, thud". So Dave's riding the fader like mad...
I read somewhere that Tom Dowd [famous house engineer for Atlantic Records] would ride the fader all the time so he didn't have to use so much compression.
That's what faders are for. You move 'em and shit happens. You sort of have to get over the fact that the board doesn't run itself. [laughter] Then it frees you up to this other world of like, "Yeah, that guitar is quiet here and now it needs to be loud even though it's still quiet." For us, anything they tell us not to do, we do. Like, you can't run DATs into the red on the machine. The first time we got it in at Fredonia with Dave he said, "You guys can't run it in there [in the red], you'll get distortion." We were like, "Fuck that." [laughter] Then you realize it takes a lot to overload a DAT or tape or something. So, then you learn by experience.
I've learned not to be so afraid of distortion, at least in the analog recording stage. We use a lot of old gear. A lot of old tube crap and stuff. There's these two preamps I got out of an old Ampex tape machine that I just love and you can distort 'em.
It can add character — sibilance and stuff. Aretha Franklin, you listen to anything she sang and her sibilance is beautiful the way it adds the character to it. The Motown records have so much bass, you think it's going to knock the jukebox over. But those were people who realized, "Well, the bass is the booty. People shake to the booty." That's what you accentuate. That's something where the guitars might lose to the bass on this track or on this part. Not everything needs to win. Music is not a democracy when done at it's best.
Don [Dixon] said something like that. To the effect of, "You don't have to hear everything." It's more about how it's felt there. If it were taken away you would know, but it's not readily apparent on the first or second listen.
The rhythm guitars and things... you don't even realize they are there. But if they weren't there totally, you'd notice it. But if they're slightly in there it changes the mood and stuff...
Anything else you'd like to say?
Just to anyone recording, there are no rules, break the rules — do whatever. You are the producer, you know? As much as the title can mean something in a larger way, to be in awe of something, even as great as Motown or Stax or something. Those were people not unlike anyone here in this room. People who are learning, people who are trying something out. Especially for your readers or for anyone — you are in control. This is the one point in your life when you will have some control. [laughter] Exert it, because everything that goes with the record after it's in the stores, you have no control over. Where you play, whom you play with, and how much money you don't make. All of that you have no control over. Exhibit something so you can sleep well at night. Say, "Yes, I put my soul into it. If people hate it, fuck it. Because it really lived up to what I had hoped it would." That's why people sleep well.
Speaking of that, do you have anybody else you'd like to work with someday?
Well, Dave has always been a part of our group. He plays on the records. So, as Mercury Rev goes, Dave goes with it. But at the same point, I think Dave is always up for collaborating with people. It's not so much to have some imaginary British producer come in and sort of throw lightning bolts — it's really just to work with somebody. For us it's important to work with the older people. The Jack Nitzche's [god-like arranger of all the Spector stuff. Also produced Neil Young, among others] of the world. And people like that where you can collaborate with them and say, "This is one way we were doing it, if it's in your hands, what would you do?" And to be there physically and watch him and ask him these questions. Not just send him the mix and say, "Do something." You want to learn from the horse's mouth, which is one of the reasons we got Levon and Garth in. Why get a drummer to parody Levon, why not get Levon himself? [laughter]
That must be one of the nice benefits of having success...
Well, it's not even so much success, it was the fact that we just asked. Because a lot of older people really aren't working much. The label didn't even want us to use Levon and Garth. They just thought, "Well, these are just old guys. We can get you some 21 year old kid who knows computers." You say, "Well, these guys are Levon and Garth and these are people who, yeah, haven't had a hit since '67 but they're valuable." Those are people that we hear. The Bob Johnston's, the Jack Nitzche's. It's more of a collaboration to say, "Well, we've got some ideas and this time we're not going to go in there and turn every knob ourselves. What would you do? These are some sounds we've heard on your earlier records, was it magic? Was it accidents?" Usually they'd be honest with us and say, "Look, I was fuckin' wasted at the time in '64 and I can't even remember doin' that record." You say, "Okay, let's pretend you are and work from there." Those are the people who are self-taught. It's in the mind. It's people who might say, "Half the shit you recorded on the song is utter bullshit. Take it off and you'll have a good song." That's more valuable than anyone turning up the high-end on a hi-hat. The best producers will try and simply tell you what not to do. Through their own experience they'll say, "I know what you're trying for, maybe stay away from that and try this road." That's just what we do with each other. Bring out the best performance in each other.
