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Arm Arm Arm
* Dog in the Sand *
1037 Posts |
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mdisanto
* Dog in the Sand *
USA
1140 Posts |
 Posted - 03/25/2003 : 17:45:52
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thanks for the link, good read
-miked |
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mereubu
= FB QuizMistress =
USA
2677 Posts |
Posted - 03/25/2003 : 18:09:06
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Yes, indeed. Who knew that the creative difference between BLD & DW was simply choice of, um, substance?
Thanks! |
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PsychicTwin
* Dog in the Sand *
USA
1772 Posts |
Posted - 03/26/2003 : 01:14:24
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"The methodology has ignited a new spark in his recordings, lending an immediacy and energy perhaps missing from weaker outings like The Cult of Ray, his last record without the band."
huh???
did anyone else notice how retarded this statement is? in more ways than one... |
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big_galoof
= Cult of Ray =
USA
310 Posts |
Posted - 03/26/2003 : 05:18:43
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i liked this little bit:
"Certainly Black Letter Days is more produced-sounding. We demoed all the songs on the album and there was a producer in the house. We’d go in at noon and drink cappuccinos—as opposed to Devil’s Workshop, where we’d go in at seven in the evening and drink Guinness and smoke pot."
tbg |
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the swimmer
* Dog in the Sand *
USA
1602 Posts |
Posted - 03/27/2003 : 06:39:20
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quote:
Originally posted by big_galoof
i liked this little bit:
"Certainly Black Letter Days is more produced-sounding. We demoed all the songs on the album and there was a producer in the house. We’d go in at noon and drink cappuccinos—as opposed to Devil’s Workshop, where we’d go in at seven in the evening and drink Guinness and smoke pot."
tbg
Yeah, I am glad it was stated so non chalantly and out in the open. I knew. I always knew.
I saw that first Columbus show. 45 songs, a bit more than 3 hours.
Yes, it rocked me to the point of thinking "Man, ok enough already".
I needed the patented Dave Chappelle "Wrap It Up" buzzer.
"Winter blows through my coat"
the what four http://www.mp3.com/phelan |
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johndietzel
= Cult of Ray =
Burkina Faso (Upper Volta)
464 Posts |
Posted - 03/27/2003 : 14:55:33
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Here Comes Our Man
Frank Black is back in support of two new records
by Stephen Slaybaugh
As the frontman of ’90s indie rock stalwarts the Pixies, under the alias Black Francis (aka Charles Thompson), Frank Black’s place in the rock pantheon has long been secure. And while Black, the name change aside, hasn’t tried to separate himself from his past—he still performs cuts from the Pixies’ catalog live and, on this tour, former Pixies drummer David Lovering will open with a science and magic show—the legacy of that seminal band has at times overshadowed the quality of Black’s output since the group’s dispersal.
Nevertheless, Black has kept on keepin’ on, releasing his seventh and eight albums, Black Letter Days and Devil’s Workshop, simultaneously last August. Since assembling his backing band of Catholics that includes bassist David McCaffrey and drummer Scott Boutier (both formerly of Miracle Legion), Black has exclusively recorded live to two-track, with only a few razor edits amongst the five records he’s made with the band. The methodology has ignited a new spark in his recordings, lending an immediacy and energy perhaps missing from weaker outings like The Cult of Ray, his last record without the band.
Black and the Catholics are currently on the road in support of the new pair of albums. I caught up with Black via telephone before their departure from Los Angeles.
I guess I’ll start with some questions that everyone has been asking you…
Why music?
A little more specific than that, I guess.
Oh, good. I always hate that one.
Why two records?
Because we had two. I finished two records and what else do you do with a record besides release it?
On the credits it says you used a mobile studio. What’s the set-up like?
We have mostly vintage gear piled into flight cases, which have wheels on them. So far we’ve managed to just move it around L.A., but it is mobile. We’ve recorded in about three different locations and right now we’re set up in a building in Hollywood.
Is there a reason behind wanting a mobile studio?
I have romantic ideas about going to more exotic locales—south of Spain or something—and I hope one day we’ll get there, but until then it’s nice having our own studio and not being locked in to a five-year lease in a building.
Is it something you could take out on the road if you wanted to test new material live and go back and make studio recordings?
Yes, but I don’t think we’d have enough energy to do that. We barely have enough energy for doing stuff like watching the Columbo marathon or seeking out a Japanese restaurant. On the road, there’s too much sleep deprivation. Maybe if we had lots of roadies running around, but we’re not at that stage at the moment.
Have you discovered any themes or motifs that separate the new records from being just a bunch of songs?
I guess I’ve been more open in recent years to writing sad songs—songs of regret, songs about love and breaking up—which I don’t think I was as willing to do before. Once you’ve been around long enough, you don’t care if everyone knows what a mess your life is.
So your songs are more personal now than they were before?
Yeah, for sure. But you have to be careful because there’s a tendency by people, when they listen to an album, to analyze it and think they know what’s going on, like it’s a page out of your diary. It’s not really like that; it’s much more complicated and fluid.
Are there characteristics that distinguish the two records from one another?
Certainly Black Letter Days is more produced-sounding. We demoed all the songs on the album and there was a producer in the house. We’d go in at noon and drink cappuccinos—as opposed to Devil’s Workshop, where we’d go in at seven in the evening and drink Guinness and smoke pot. Devil’s Workshop was a little more casual. We had already made a record so we felt like we could relax. Then at the end of it, we decided there was a record there. It wasn’t as polished as the last session, but we liked the vibe and the songs.
And you had Stan Ridgeway…
He’s producing us right now, actually. We enjoyed his company so much in the studio and he was already kind of stepping into that producer role just being in the room—he’s a bright guy with a lot of good ideas—we decided we should get him to produce.
It would seem that you would share some similar tastes and interests with him?
I know that we do, but when we’re working together it’s not like we focus on what our common loves are. It’s more like, we get along and we both dig hanging out in the studio so let’s go hang out in the studio together. It’s more of a personality thing than how our influences should meld together. That will happen automatically—it doesn’t need to be discussed.
There’s a lot of unspoken collaboration that goes on in making a record. Obviously there’s a lot of discussion and debate, but for the most part it’s everyone playing—especially going live to two-track—and then there’s the result of your playing. If you’ve made enough records, you know if it’s great or if it needs work. Everyone knows—I don’t need to tell anyone else and no one needs to tell me.
Given the way that you work, do you do a lot of takes or are you resigned to releasing songs warts-and-all?
Both, really. Both situations happen all the time. Sometimes you spend three days playing a song until we finally get it there—if it gets there; sometimes we just suck and move onto something else. And other times, you do a reel, which is about 15 minutes of tape, with as many takes as you can fit on it over the course of an hour. The song may be rough on the edges, but there’s something beautiful about it. Even if there’s a little flub, you can tell that it’s really good where it’s at and we’re not going to do it better. We may play it perfectly next time, but it won’t have a better feeling.
With multi-tracking, you may have everything played perfectly, perfectly in tune and in time, but then it sounds sterile. That’s a different kind of failure. Usually the sterile failure doesn’t happen with two-track. It will fail in other ways, but not by being sterile. It may sound too fast or too slow or something is too loud in the mix, but it never sounds antiseptic.
Is working this way a preference or is it more a reaction to a dislike of multi-tracking?
It’s a little bit of a reaction, but also a preference. You are only ever dealing with the final record. You’re not dealing with this building of the record layer-by-layer and hearing it from every possible angle. You’re dealing with the same thing everyone else is going to hear.
Is recording live to two-track an indication of a greater confidence or a greater dexterity? I mean, could you have worked this way with the Pixies?
No, we were too inexperienced. For example, if I sing a song now, I will consistently sing it more correctly every time I sing it. When I first started making records, I was all over the place. I was way more sloppy, which might have been a good thing at the time. But at the end of the day, you’re not trying to sound completely amateurish so you need the crutch of multi-tracking to get through it and be able to hear a polished product and realize what you can achieve. We’ve already done that so many times now, we just want to be real musicians. We want to play it like we just did down at the nightclub. We want to feel that we’re that good, a little cocky even.
You still play Pixies songs live. Has your relationship with those songs changed?
No, not really. They’re just songs that I’ve written. You never know when a song is going to mean something to you. Sometimes the song means something to you when you’re writing it and other times it only means something years later. It’s not that you’re being aloof when you’re performing a song, but you can’t shift into the moment of each song where you’re going to be that song.
What do you think of the Breeders?
I don’t really know their records. But I don’t know a lot of contemporary records. Ask my about another contemporary band.
Polyphonic Spree.
Don’t know them. Ask me another one.
The Strokes.
I know them a little bit because my wife likes them. Whenever I’m in her car, I hear the Strokes. Pick another one.
Neko Case.
Don’t know her. See what I’m saying? I don’t listen to records because I know people. I know lots of musicians, but I don’t necessarily sit around and listen to their records. I don’t go out and buy a record because I played a gig with some guy. I don’t know what causes me to go out and buy the records that I do; I’ve never really thought about it. I gravitate to whatever I gravitate to. In terms of contemporary music, I don’t gravitate to a lot of it. I’m not saying whether it’s bad or good—I have no opinion—but there’s a lot to listen to and I haven’t gotten around to some John Coltrane records.
Your last show at Little Brother’s was on the long side…
I think that might have been the longest set we’ve ever played. The band was going to kill me after that set, they were all so exhausted. In the amount of time we played, we could have taken the Concord to London. It was real hot and sweaty and sometimes when it’s just the right amount of humidity and heat, it feels real good to sing and I really enjoy it. It’s like if you’re working out and you get to the point where it feels really good to sweat. That’s what was going on with me that night. I played everything I knew.
Frank Black and the Catholics return to Little Brother’s on Friday, March 21.
March 20, 2003
Copyright © 2003 Columbus Alive, Inc. All rights reserved.
http://www.columbusalive.com/2003/20030320/032003/03200301.html
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Ok, I hope I don't screw this one up: "Jeffrey Jones, Roman Polanski, Pete Townshend, and James Randi walk into a kindergarten . . ." |
Edited by - johndietzel on 03/27/2003 15:00:32 |
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chipahoyboy
- FB Fan -
112 Posts |
Posted - 04/03/2003 : 19:58:44
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quote:
Originally posted by johndietzel
Here Comes Our Man
Your last show at Little Brother’s was on the long side…
I think that might have been the longest set we’ve ever played. The band was going to kill me after that set, they were all so exhausted. In the amount of time we played, we could have taken the Concord to London. It was real hot and sweaty and sometimes when it’s just the right amount of humidity and heat, it feels real good to sing and I really enjoy it. It’s like if you’re working out and you get to the point where it feels really good to sweat. That’s what was going on with me that night. I played everything I knew.
"
Wow, I was at that show. My first FB show. I knew it was something special, but it is so cool to know that Frank remembers it, too! |
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