The Fix

Some bands take delight in being mysterious; others don’t have a choice. It’s never been exactly clear which of those two categories France-via-New York, avant-folk sister duo CocoRosie falls into more. Their songs contain elements of hip-hop, opera, folk and nursery rhymes, and their concerts rival Broadway productions–or better yet, Cirque du Soleil–in their runny makeup, creative wardrobes and rainbow-washed sets. The only thing that seems certain is that Sierra and Bianca Casady, who have answered our questions below in tandem, don’t see the world the same way as anyone else.

Their latest release, a jangly single titled “God Has a Voice, She Speaks Through Me” (Touch and Go, 2008), only promotes their enigma. With vocals that recall Cher, contemporary R&B-tinged keys, and an infectious, carefree melody that goes on for days, the siblings have crafted their version of the summer jam. Full of religious dogma among other indecipherable lyrics, it probably won’t become as ubiquitous as “Umbrella” last year–but then again if everyone figured out the mystery, it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.

Fuzz: What is the significance to you of the title “God Has a Voice, She Speaks Through Me”?
CocoRosie: That God is a female not a male.

What guided you into taking this direction on this release?
She did.

Why is this song decidedly upbeat?
We are obviously trying to sell out.

What inspired the song’s lyrics?
Our disgust with patriarchy.

There are five Muslim women in the beginning of the video, and other items are grouped in fives throughout, too. Why five?
Their is nothing special about five. The five Muslim women are out for a swim and when they get deep enough no one can see that the water is lifting their veils.

What went into making this video? How did you come up with the ideas for it? What didn’t work?
Lots of hair. And hair brushes. And long tranny hours of editing at night.

What field recordings exist on this song?
Whales and other water things.

What events have shaped your lives since Ghosthorse?
Playing with the greatest orchestra in the world, having a solo show at Deitch in New York, opening a gallery in Paris, etc…skinny dipping.

How will your next album sound?
Britney Spears in church.

I found a video of a new song with many different cell-phone ringtones on it. Are you for or against cells?
I don’t personally own a phone. Pagers are way more cool.

When have you felt like you’ve had a religious experience?
Everyday.

Last year, your MySpace reported you had been arrested. What happened with that?
We pulled a Winona [Ryder].

What do you feel people misunderstand most about you?
That we are folk.

What do you do to prove them otherwise?
Sell out.

What’s the one thing anyone could do to make the earth a better place to live?
Stop beating our children. No more male world leaders religious or political.

What should people take away from the song “God Has a Voice”?
God is a mother fucking tranny bitch!!!

After luring us in as the sensual voiced siren on Zero 7’s “Home”, Danish singer-songwriter Tina Dico is set to wallop us over the head with the rocking tunes from her latest solo album, Count To Ten. She was recently back in the states for a quick club tour.

Fuzz: You’re best known in America for singing quiet songs with Zero 7. Is Count To Ten a better reflection of what you’re really like?
Tina Dico: I would say so. Like many other artists I always had a fear of sounding too poppy. I always saw myself as quite raw. It feels nearer to the way it all starts with just me and the guitar. It feels like it’s just an extension of that.

Do you remember the record that made you want to be a singer?
From when I was tiny, I remember listening to loads of Donovan, Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen–just one person with a guitar. My dad was a hi-fi geek, so we had a music room in the house and he would play loads of varied stuff. He didn’t have good taste, as such–he just liked things that were well recorded. I remember Pink Floyd and some Irish folk music. I played the piano from when I was six and what made me change to the guitar and take songwriting more seriously when I was 10 was Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car.” She was a present day Bob Dylan. I felt like she was my soul mate. I wanted to sound exactly like her and I tried to learn all her songs on the guitar.

Are you disappointed you sound nothing like Tracy Chapman?
You know what? To begin with, I did. I had exactly the same vibrato as her when I was 13. That was the most important thing in my life. I guess I have moved slightly in a different direction since then.

Were you also planning on becoming a protest singer?
Not necessarily in a political way. I guess the thing is that it sounds like life or death. You can sing, “I miss you,” and make it as big of a statement as a song about war. So it was always about the energy in the voice.

You could be living large in Denmark. Why did you move to London?
I knew from the beginning I wanted an international career. That’s why I sing in English. I really do appreciate the fact that I can blend in here and be completely anonymous. I can’t do that in Denmark. It’s shocking what that does to your life. I can’t actually meet anyone without them having some sort of preconception. Nothing is from scratch, ever. Everybody has an opinion. Everybody thinks they know who I am. That’s a bit weird because my music is melancholic and people think I’m a sad person. I don’t want to be known as the Queen of Melancholy.

Listen:

The Los Angeles underground is exploding with the sound of music, and while angel-voiced siblings are on our minds, let’s talk about Tweak Bird. If you listen closely, two clear, high-pitched voices penetrate the cacophony of a thousand sonic battalions vying for recognition within the Los Angeles sprawl. One of these days, Tweak Bird will bring a riot to your town, and should you come late, you’ll still consider yourself lucky just to catch the echoes of their fearless brand of rock ‘n’ roll. Brothers Ashton and Caleb are recent Los Angeles transplants who have made a name for themselves in the past year on the strength of a sold-out 7-inch debut and a furious live show. Theirs is a snarl of loud, beat-heavy rock loaded with deceptively simple riffs that get heads banging and enviously catchy vocals that, as you can probably guess, get people yelling along. In appearance, Ashton and Caleb could be called Big Bird and Little Bird, respectively, and they are affable conversationalists who often inject their fraternal rapport, which is often complementary and occasionally prickly, with sports references and deadpan sarcasm. In addition to the obvious topic of music, the band recently spoke to Fuzz about the joys of brotherly conflict, Pink Floyd, and spaceships in the desert.

Fuzz: Hey, guys, are you ready?
Ashton: …Yes. Two Tweak Birds, one interviewer.
Caleb: This is Red Five.

So what’s in a name? A friend of mine wondered whether your band name had anything to do with British babes who do crystal meth.
A: (Pause) Yeah, that’s actually it. That’s pretty insane. (Laughter)

Oh, really?
A: Yeah, that’s crazy. Your friend must be psychic.
C: No, I do remember distinctly we were sitting in the rehearsal space one day, and I came up with some probably terrible band name. And I remember you, Ashton, were like, “No, dude, it’s gonna be called”–and he paused for a really long time–“Tweak Bird.” Tweak sounds like ‘tweet,’ and birds are cool, so that works for me.

As brothers, were you guys playing music together from a young age?
A: Yeah, I asked for a guitar when I was eight or ten, and of course, Caleb, being older, got the guitar, and I got a drum set. So by default, I got stuck on drums. We’ve been playing for ten or twelve years.

When did you guys decide to make Tweak Bird an official band?
A: It was probably late 2006? Or was it 2005?
C: I’ll have to check the MySpace. (Laughter) When we started our MySpace is when we became official. We moved out here over three years ago as a three piece band with another dude from our hometown. He was a cool guy, but that band wasn’t doin’ it for us, so he took off and went back to Illinois. Ashton was playing bass at the time, so he switched back over to drums. We just started jamming and said, “Let’s just do it this way,” and we liked it. It was a natural thing.

Why did you choose to move from Illinois to LA as opposed to, say, New York City?
A: LA’s cheaper than New York. And it’s warmer.
C: Yeah we actually were in New York City for a little while, but we didn’t get to see much of the city while we were recording there. We come from the country, and New York City [seems to have] absolutely no nature, and LA at least has, like, spots of it. That’s where we chill out–in nature, in the woods.
A: Yeah, we chill out in the woods, man. (Laughter)

What woods? You guys go hiking around here?
C: We used to go up to Switzer Falls. That was killer.
A: There’s some really nice hiking in southern California. Aside from the city, it’s a really beautiful place.

Speaking of LA, the music scene here is getting a lot of attention these days. No Age, Health, and Mika Miko spearhead that whole Smell scene, and there’s been a resurgence of electronic music represented by Steve Aoki and the Dim Mak crew. As an LA band playing music during this time, do you guys feel an affinity for any scenes? Are you conscious of any greater sense of community within LA?
C: Yeah, it contrasts greatly from our hometown where bands only played punk or hardcore, and it was more of a family than a scene. [In LA], we’ve been trying to do the same thing. Big Business and the Melvins have been great to us, there’s 400 Blows, but we haven’t been like, “This is an LA sound,” or “This is a movement…“
A: At any given time, it seems there’s a city that gets attention for its music, and it is interesting to be a part of it in LA. It is going on, and we are here, and bands we know are a part of it, so I’m really excited to see where it goes. It seems there have been so many musical droughts, but if you happen to make the right decision to be in the right place at the right time, it can work out really well.

LA is a commuter city. What do you guys find yourselves listening to when you’re driving around the city?
C: Om. All day. I work for a catering business, so I’m driving all day. What’s beautiful about Om is that one song is, like, fifteen minutes, so after four tracks, you’ve killed an hour of your life, and you’re, like, “Yes, this is awesome!” (Laughs) It’s patience in music form.
A: I ride my bike or take the bus around the city. I usually listen to podcasts of “This American Life”.

There’s a well-documented history of brothers in bands who don’t get along personally but have an undeniable creative and musical chemistry. Bands like Oasis, Jesus & Mary Chain, and Black Crowes come to mind. You guys seem to get along, but is sibling friction an integral part of your chemistry as band members?
A: It’s a huge part. That’s where all the magic comes from.
C: Yeah, we talk about this all the time. Our styles are pretty opposite, but arguing it out and adjusting and tweaking everything we do until we’re both happy hopefully means we’re doing something good or at least something different.

As you guys continue to write new songs, do you guys find that it’s getting easier to reach that middle ground?
C: I think so, especially these past few months. This spring, with these last two or three songs, we’ve been on the same page more than we’ve ever been. We have the same ideas in mind now.

You guys just released a new EP. Tell me about it.
C: It’s the Whorses 7”.
A: It’s a cool record. They did a really good job, and it looks really great. You can order it off our MySpace.
C: It just came out on Challenge the Throne, a small label in Ventura…

No shit. Ventura’s my hometown.
C: Really? Yeah, the guys at the label are awesome, really laid-back guys. Those two songs will be on an EP that we’re putting out this summer. We’re mixing the final tracks. We’ll have six songs complete.

Will the summer EP be a vinyl-only release or are you guys going to put out the EP on digital and CD formats, too?
C: We’re not sure yet. We’ve had a few different offers, so it’ll depend on who puts out the EP. If we end up putting it out ourselves, it’ll probably be digital and vinyl.
A: There’s always going to be vinyl. Everything that we put out will be released on vinyl.
C: Yeah, vinyl’s a guarantee.

That’s great that you’re committed to vinyl releases. It seems that vinyl is increasingly seen as an archaic way to collect music.
A: I totally agree.
C: Vinyl to me is like a musical baseball card. Even if you put it in a box and shove it in your closet, it’s still part of your collection. It’s there. You can say, “I have over ten thousand baseball cards,” and you hate all them, maybe, but you have a lot. So whatever.
A: (Laughs) As long as you have it, that’s all that matters.

At one of your recent shows, the guitarist from Ancestors come onstage and played with you. Do you guys plan to expand our lineup in the future?
A: No, not really. It’s just fun for us to play live with other people. It’s a little more entertaining for us. You get isolated as a member of a two-piece band, and we have good friends who are in good bands, and they happen to like our songs, so they’ll jump in and play a bit.
C: It’s cool to play with people who have their own take on our songs. To me it seems our songs are pretty elementary–it’s a riff and some drum beats, so you can interpret it in a lot of different ways. It’s cool to hear someone else play with us. (Pause) It’s weird, but it’s cool.

Well, I wouldn’t say your music is elementary. I could be wrong, but your music seems to be informed by minimalist aesthetics, where it’s more about being tasteful and knowing how much to add to a particular song or, rather, knowing when to leave stuff out.
A: Yeah, we’ve always enjoyed that. Over the years, we’ve developed the mentality that “less is more.” We definitely think there’s something to making music that, like you said, is tasteful.
C: But to contrast, one of our most favorite bands is Pink Floyd, and they’re one of the most highly orchestrated, over-dubbed bands. I think we both agree that it’s the feeling, the emotion that comes out of a song, and if we can do it with [just] a guitar and drums, that’s success. All we want to do is evoke some strong feeling.

Being in a two-piece band makes it easy for people to pigeonhole you and compare you guys to the two-piece bands. But I noticed that you [Caleb] have been using a theramin onstage which expands your sound and the possibilities of a traditional drum-and-guitar setup.
C: The theramin is becoming an ever-bigger part of our live sound, and on the last six tracks we recorded, there’s a lot of theramin added to it. And Ashton will play a mini keyboard every now and then. We just like to keep it varied enough so that after hearing the first couple songs, people don’t assume that’s what they’ll hear for the next thirty minutes. It’s for ourselves as much as anyone else because we get bored.

Your dual vocals have been described as “eerie,” and to me, you guys sound like a gang of ghostly banshee children.
(Laughter)

How’d you guys decide to sing like that?
A: Caleb’s always sang with this almost falsetto-y, high-pitched, orchestrated voice, and I’ve always been in punk bands and stoner bands and metal bands, so I’ve always yelled. We’ve always been able to harmonize with each other well, and we’ve sang with each other more than anyone else. In the incubator stage of the band, we were worried about Caleb being the lead singer because we felt that would put us in a two-piece band stereotype, so we decided to double the vocals. I sing with a higher pitch and a little more aggressively, and Caleb sings high and… pretty. (Laughs) I don’t know if people like it so far.

Well, you guys seem to have been getting good responses at your shows. And you guys always look like you’re having a good time performing. That said, what’s the worst show you’ve ever played?
A: I think I’m devastated by all of them. They’re all terrible.
C: Yeah, we just like rehearsing. Shows totally suck. (Laughter) The most memorable show was when we got to open for the Melvins last year, and I broke a string in the middle of the set, so it was the best and worst show for me.

There’s an artist, Max Neutra, who sometimes paints on an easel onstage while you guys perform; it’s an interesting mixing of media. How did that collaboration come about?
A: I met him through mutual friends. I ended up working with him, became friends with him, and I always liked his art. I saw some videos online of him doing these fast-paced, impromptu paintings. I said, “Man, that’d be great if you’d do that onstage with us,” and he was really excited about the idea, and it worked out. We’ve done it a few times, and now he’s painting with other bands in LA.

You guys are making music during a time where the music industry is constantly changing; where, more and more, young bands like yourselves have to make your own way. Do you guys ever feel any anxiety or fear that you guys won’t “make it” or succeed, even on your own terms, whatever those terms may be?
C: We’ll always be playing music. We’re not that good at anything else. And we’d consider signing big if we had the offer; we’ve never said, “We want to be an underground band. That’s who we are, that’s what we do—“
A: That’s not true, that’s totally not true. We’ve never agreed on that, ever.
C: (Laughs) No, but… we’d consider it. If we were given the offer, if it was right.

This is an admittedly shitty question, but, between the two of you, what are your top five albums?
C: I think Pink Floyd’s Meddle is on there. Ashton?
A: Yeah, that’d be on my list, too.
C: And then Black Sabbath’s Paranoid.
A: Uh, probably not for me. My top five would consist of NPR podcasts, probably. That’s pretty much what I’ve been listening to. And I just got this Sony Institute box set of folk music.
C: Oh, so you mean current top five?
A: Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. There’s no such thing as a permanent top five for me.
C: I thought we were talkin’ All-Madden here.
A: Not the All-Madden team, dude.

Ashton, you’re a new father.
A: That’s correct.

How’s that going? Has that affected your music at all?
A: It’s pretty crazy, man. There’s some sort of enlightenment. Having a kid, I think I’ve finished a level of life. It’s changed me. It’s awesome. But I don’t know if it’s really changed me as a musician. I’m definitely more tired at practice. (Laughs)

Last question, guys. In your song “Spaceships,” you guys sing about seeing fourteen spaceships in the desert. Is that a true story?
A: (Laughs) Yeah, pretty much. I can’t go too deep into it, or it’ll get too crazy, man. You gotta be there to understand.

Well then, what desert was it?
C: It had to be one we’ve been to? When we were driving out here through the Mojave, it was pretty insane. It’s an entire day’s drive of nothingness. It’s like being on another planet. It starts with one weird feeling or thing you see, and your brain can trip out on all these ideas, and you think you’re seeing things or hearing things. And then it goes all Stanley Kubrick from there. (Laughter)

Thanks for your time, guys. I appreciate you guys taking the time to do this.
A: No, thank you, man.
C: Yeah, thank you. This is Red Five signing off.

Check out Tweak Bird at myspace.com/tweakbird

Australia’s Presets–Julian Hamilton (vocals, programming, keyboards) and Kimberly Moyes (drums, programming, keyboards)–are classically trained musicians–but don’t hold that against them. Open-minded and stylistically voracious, their unpredictable grooves are anything but stuffy. Signed to the forward-thinking Modular label, home of Cut Copy and Muscles, they’re a band on the rise, and 2008 marks their first full US tour in support of Apocalypso, successor to 2005’s Beams. Fuzz caught up with Hamilton by email while he rests up in Sydney before heading out to conquer the world with his duo’s playful brand of electronic pop.

Fuzz: What can you tell me about your earlier band, the Prop?
Hamilton: Prop was a five-piece instrumental band we used to play in. It was made up of Kim and I plus three other mates from university. We had synths and a bunch of tuned percussion instruments like vibraphones and marimbas. Our music was more atmospheric and filmic than the Presets. It was quite beautiful, and a lot more considered, too. We miss that band. It was fun to perform live with those guys (but extremely difficult to tour with those massive instruments).

You titled your second full-length Apocalypso. Have you seen Mel Gibson’s Apocalypto?
I haven’t seen it, although I’m a huge fan of Mad Max I and II (I think they were released in the States as The Road Warrior in the early 80’s). Mad Max has way more similarities to Apocalypso than Mel’s film Apocalypto.

How does it compare to your first record?
I’m not sure, really. I guess as musicians we hope it’s just a step up. Hopefully we’ve retained a lot of the character of Beams, but improved on the songwriting and production and that kinda stuff. Beams explored mostly hedonistic themes (partying, drugs, and sex). I didn’t want to go over those same things again. This time we’ve still made a party record—but hopefully it’s a bit bleaker or starker. “My People,” for instance, is a party song, but it’s a pretty stark, desperate-sounding party song. And “This Boy’s In Love” is an attempt at a nostalgic pop-dance track, but we tried to make it luscious and romantic, yet still ice cold and bleak.

You’re known for your intense live gigs. What’s the worst thing that ever happened to you at a show?
We might experience some technical difficulties one out of every hundred shows. But mostly our shows are a really fun time. I guess the worst thing is when you turn up somewhere, and you’re tired and in the middle of a tour, and the promoter meets you at the door and says something like “Hey guys, it’s still filling up in there, we’ll push the set back a couple of hours. Here’s two drink tickets, go grab yourselves a drink, and have fun,” and we’re like, “Fuck you.”

Mouse on Mars has remixed one of your tracks. How did you hook up with them?
They have been idols of ours for a long time. I used to buy their records 10 years ago. We played a festival in Germany with them last year; then ended up on the same plane the next day to a festival in Glasgow. They checked out our show, and liked it. We asked them if they’d like to remix “My People.” They said yes. They ended up doing two, and we love them.

Your sound ranges from soft and pretty to loud and crunchy. Other songs are so processed they sound almost psychedelic. Do you listen to a wide range of music?
For sure. I hardly listen to dance music at all to be honest (except when I run). On tour, I mostly listen to classical. I’ve been re-discovering a lot of the 20th-century composers I first heard at university—Ligeti, Messiaen, Varèse, Xenakis, Cage—stuff like that. They create some really wild sound-worlds that inspire us.

Since some of your pieces are instrumental, have you considered getting involved in soundtrack work?
Not really—at the moment we only have time to create Presets albums, although TV shows and commercials are forever requesting our music. (We’re happy to sell it to them!) My brother is a well regarded contemporary dancer and choreographer, and we are always promising that one day we will work together when things settle down a bit.

Aside from sleep, what are your plans once you’ve finished with this year’s tour?
Take a break–do some cooking, gardening…fun stuff. Then start thinking about another record.

Apocalypso is released on May 13th.

Calvin Harris isn’t your typical 24-year old. When this Dumfries, Scotland native isn’t helping to resurrect the once passé electro genre (asymmetrical haircuts and electro-clash, anyone?) or racking up infectious top-ten singles in the UK, he’s busy basking in the sunshine of success, writing and producing tracks for mini-pop princess Kylie Minogue’s latest effort X (in addition to a slew of other UK pop sensations). On his debut album I Created Disco, Harris mixes his signature sonic aesthetic–think bombastic beats, videogame-influenced effects and synth tones that sound like they are being played from the depths of the ocean–with lyrics about smoking flourescent-colored rocks, pill-popping in Vegas, and a fictional man who created disco after World War II. Fuzz recently discussed with the electro prodigy via-email the unlikely influence of food on music, Ms. Minogue, and who really created disco.

Fuzz: So, I know the Kylie question is played out at the moment, but what was it like working with her? Were you always a fan?
Calvin Harris: It was a really great experience, and a fascinating insight into the world of making pop music at the highest level. It was a door that I previously didn’t even consider knocking on, let alone jamming my foot in.

Did you have her in mind when you come up with the song “In My Arms” or was it a more collaborative process?
I wrote the music and the hook sometime before a collaboration was suggested, but when it was, I knew the track would suit her.

Is there any other mega starlet or man-star you’re dying to work with?
Yeah loads, in fact too many to mention. T-Pain, R. Kelly and Beyoncé are pretty high on the list.

What has been your best remixing or production experience and why?
I enjoyed the Dizzee Rascal track I made recently. It was a lot of fun and very rewarding.

What musical and non-musical things influence your sound?
Food influences most aspects of my life, including music. My beats are like a rump steak cooked rare with peppercorn sauce and a good side of mash and runner beans. Good, uncomplicated flavor in your earhole.

If your music were an animal, which one would it be?
Maybe a frog.

Had you even been to Las Vegas before when you wrote the song “Vegas”?
No and I still haven’t.

What is your favorite song on I Created Disco and why?
I like all of them equally.

In “Girls” you come off as an equal-opportunity dater. Is there anything about the opposite sex that really turns you off?
Broad shoulders?

As a fellow child of the ’80s, I know we’re a pretty magical breed. Were you afraid of alienating the elder music lovers?
No I couldn’t care less, if you like it you like it.

How did you start playing music? Were you always interested in making electro, or did you have a moody music period too?
I get the moody periods out of my system when doing interviews.

What’s the craziest thing a fan has done to get your attention?
Stolen my chips, and it worked.

Who are your musical heroes?
Timbaland, The Neptunes, ?uestlove, Roy Ayres and Outkast. There are too many.

If you could only take five albums on a trip to the moon, what would they be?
D’Angelo Voodoo, Raphael Saadiq Instant Vintage, Michael Jackson Off the Wall, Outkast Aquemini and probably some Lee Scratch Perry.

If you weren’t playing music right now what would you be doing?
Right now, aged 24, I’d be in a pretty bad place, mentally.

Fuzz: Describe your hometown Dumfries, Scotland in three words.
Green, Grey, Drinking.

If you didn’t really create disco, then who did?
Barry fucking Gibb.

Genius or heathen, social commenter or iconoclast, role model or laughable dumbass–no matter how you cast him, the Meatmen’s Tesco Vee never fell in the middle. With album titles like Crippled Children Suck, We’re the Meatmen…and You Suck! and Pope on a Rope, the comically irascible Vee (née Robert Vermeulen) helped draft the blueprint in the ’80s for politically incorrect punk to come. Now, after a 12-year absence, he’s formed a new version of the Meatmen, taken them on tour, reissued some records and is ready to challenge social mores once again with a covers album, Meatmen-style. From Lansing, Michigan, where he spent his teenage years and has raised his family for the past decade, Vee explains how absence has made his heart grow fonder and, more importantly, why we still suck.

Fuzz: Why, after 12 years, did you want to do the Meatmen again?
Tesco Vee: That’s the one my wife asked me a couple of times. “I thought you swore you were done!” I don’t know. I didn’t want to do it anymore. I moved back to Michigan and was all happy. And then John [Brannon] from Negative Approach called me and said, “Come on, man. We’re doing our first show in Detroit in 24 years.” First he said, “Come out and introduce us.” Then it was, “Do a couple songs.” Then it became a half-hour set, and the guys from NA backed me up. And, I don’t know, it felt good. It felt like I could still do this. I could still hop around in 120-degree heat and not have the big one.

Will you be writing any new music?
After we finish this covers CD and go to the well again and write a new album–I always call that climbin’ the mountain. Sometimes I think, like, with Pope on a Rope, I went for the throat and ripped the throat out and flogged everybody to death with it and now, where do I go from here? But I guess I’ll have to try.

What’s got you pissed off these days?
You name it. There’s plenty to be pissed off about. But it has to have the Tesco twist and be clever and funny and all that neat stuff.

Since you use humor so well, how serious have your rants been over the years?
In a way, it’s like don’t ask Van Gogh why he cut off his ear. Don’t ask me if I’m serious. Obviously, I’m a mean-spirited fellow, and some of that stuff I really feel. I think everybody has those feelings, but they don’t allow them to be verbalized or come out. They keep them quelled under layers of P.C. or just common sense, but I choose to let it all come out and I guess that’s my purpose on the planet, from my perspective.

Can you think of a time when one of your jokes got you in trouble?
Not specifically. I know where the flashpoints are, and I kind of dance around them, but, no, I’ve never been jacked up against a wall. Although [Long Beach hardcore group] T.S.O.L. did jack [Minor Threat/Meatmen guitarist] Brian Baker up against the wall in [Washington D.C.’s] 9:30 Club. This was sometime in the ’80s. And T.S.O.L. are big boys, and they found out about the [Meatmen’s] “T.S.O.L. Are Sissies” song and they were looking for me. I specifically did not go to that show. Them and all their roadies jacked Brian up against the wall.

Rather than bands you think are sissies, what punk bands have you liked lately?
Some of the punk I hear on XM is pretty good. Off the top of my head, the Casualties, Guttermouth and bands like that, that are sort of old school. Too much teenie punk, though. That’s the reason I came back. I needed to school this generation on how it’s done. I blame Green Day.

Speaking of making a change, you’re selling “Tesco Vee for President” stickers on your website. What would your first act in office be?
Probably legalizing marijuana. That’s needed to happen for a long time. I think I’m gonna plug [Fear frontman] Lee Ving as my running mate, too. I think it’s a marriage made in heaven–or hell.

Since it’s such a big part of your life, how did you explain the Meatmen to your kids?
I have a son and a daughter. They were raised around it and they always knew of it. And once my son was old enough to get into music, he was bragging to his friends that, “My dad is Tesco Vee.” He and my nephews were like, “We were born too late. You’ve gotta do this again.” My son and my two nephews are going out on the road with us now. And they’re the road crew and the drivers and the merch sellers, so it’s a family affair.

Your son gets to hand his dad an inflatable dick.
[Laughs] Exactly. What’s not to like? He scrawls “Son of Vee” in black paint on his chest, and comes out onstage in a gorilla mask and shoots confetti cannons. He’s having a good time.

Since information about you is so available online now, how do you feel about how you’ve been portrayed over the years?
I think I’m happy with it. People love me, people hate me. And there are people that want me to go away and go die. I got an email, because I have my contact info up, and some guy just said, “You were sucking my dad’s dick in Detroit in ’82.” And it’s like, “Wait a minute. Hold on. First of all…” But that’s fine. That’s one reaction. Other people tell me they love me. And that’s the reason I keep going. But when I look at my Wikipedia bio and all the things people have written about me, it’s all true. Well, it’s not all true. If it makes me more interesting than I really am, then that’s OK, too. Overall, I’d say I’m happy with my place in the world. When I die, I’ll have left quite a stain on the underpants of society.

It took nearly five years but Mark Kozelek has finally got around to putting out Sun Kil Moon’s second album of original material, April. What took so long? It wasn’t exactly writer’s block, but the former Red House Painters frontman and Almost Famous star did need some time for reevaluation following the release of 2003’s Ghosts of the Great Highway: he set up his own label, Caldo Verde; released an album of languid Modest Mouse covers, Tiny Cities; and spent some time just living life. April has everything from tender, folkie mood pieces like “Moorestown” to classic Crazy Horse inspired blowouts like “Tonight In Bilbao.” It also includes cameos by Death Cab For Cutie’s Ben Gibbard and Bonnie “Prince” Billy. At his San Francisco home, Kozelek told us how it all came together.

Fuzz: You turned 40 last year. How did it change you?
Mark Kozelek: It was a reality check. I never thought the day would come. My perspective is a little different now regarding time and how much of it there is, you know? Not just for me but for the others in my life. I’m extending my visits back home, spending more time with my parents.

A lot of these songs make you sound homesick for San Francisco. Are you tired of traveling the world?
I still go out for a few weeks but my happiness is here. I miss home when I’m away–my girlfriend, my bed, iced tea, Swan’s Oyster Depot, the little things. Overseas, I just sort of tune out, nod my head, “Yes.” You get so sick of saying “what?” all the time. Fans see the show but not the hassles: the airports, the sleep deprivation, the bad stomach from the weird shit you eat. I go out for two weeks and take two months off. That’s the way to do it.

Do you feel like you’re still writing about the same people and places that influenced your music when you started with Red House Painters?
Yes, it’s been an odd turn of events. There’s a lot of Katy from “Katy Song” in the early records. She passed away in 2003, so those songs have a different feeling now. That’s where “Lost Verses” comes from, her continuing presence in my life. Many of the old people and places are all still there, intertwined with some new ones.

How did Death Cab For Cutie’s Ben Gibbard and Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy end up on April?
I needed some back-up vocals. Their voices fit right into those songs. That was a lot of fun, hearing my voice blending with theirs.

Is running a record company everything you hoped it would be?
It’s a good situation and not much more work than being on a label. It’s all the same–you tour, approve your artwork, do interviews, sign contracts. But “Mindfuck Records” doesn’t soak up all the profits anymore. You reap the rewards instead of them. It’s a no-brainer. I don’t know why i didn’t think of it earlier.

What is the live set-up like for this tour?
Simple, no headaches–a mic and a few guitars. The sound guys love me. They’re like, “That’s all you need, a mic?”

You started your career playing Neil Young songs at a bar in Akron, Ohio. Is he still your primary source of inspiration?
Yeah, I’d say so. My sound is rooted in Neil and a few others. I grew up listening to them so that sound is ingrained in me.

Do you think you’ll ever write an album of two-minute punk songs?
No, but I’ll sign someone who will. If you hear of anything good, let me know. I’ll be down at Swan’s.

Mark Kozelek’S Summer Tour Dates:

May 11, 2008, Tokyo (Shibuya), JP
May 11, 2008, Tokyo (Shinjuku), JP
May 13, 2008, Tokyo, JP
May 14, 2008, Tokyo, JP
June 6, 2008, Minneapolis, MN
June 7, 2008, Milwaukee, WI
June 8, 2008, Chicago, IL
June 10, 2008, Rochester, NY
June 11, 2008, Boston, MA
June 13, 2008, New York, NY
June 15, 2008, Philadelphia, PA
June 17, 2008, Pittsburgh, PA
June 18, 2008, Baltimore, MD
June 20, 2008, Asheville, NC
June 21, 2008, Louisville, KY
July 24, 2008, Brisbane, AU
July 25, 2008, Sydney, AU
July 26, 2008, Melbourne, AU
July 27, 2008, Melbourne, AU
July 31, 2008, Wellington, NZ
August 1, 2008, Auckland, NZ

Peter Bjorn and John scored an unlikely summer hit last year with “Young Folks.” For a follow-up, the Swedish group’s singer and guitar player Peter Morén is striking out with a wistful solo album, The Last Tycoon. Recorded at home and taking its name from F. Scott Fitzgerald’s final unfinished novel, the disc features guest spots by The Concretes’ Daniel Varjo, singer-songwriter Tobias Froberg, and The Tiny string arranger Leo Svensson. Morén told us how it all came together.

Fuzz: How much of a backlash did you see with “Young Folks”?
Peter Morén: It pays my rent, so for me it’s no negative backlash. That’s up to other people to decide. But I don’t think it is very representative of me or even the band as a whole.

Did you deliberately engineer something lo-fi to get away from it?
Yes and no. We always try to do something different from the album before, and it would be stupid to make a solo record that is in the same mood and sounds like the band. The thing is that I started to record this album way before “Young Folks” became a hit. And I actually don’t think it is especially lo-fi. Since recording equipment has evolved so much you actually use the same stuff at home as in a proper studio.

Then what makes it more than a demo?
The amount of work I put into it. And that I brought in a lot of extra people, like strings and drums and vibraphone–stuff I can’t play myself. I do make demos and they are either just voice or guitar, but much more lo-fi recorded than this album. For Peter Bjorn and John we never make demos. The record is the demo.

How did you decide when to bring in other people?
I tried to do as much as possible myself, but I knew I wanted instruments on it I just can’t play, so I had to bring in people. But I did instruct them carefully.

What was your total budget?
I don’t know exactly, but it became more expensive than I thought. There are always a lot of costs you don’t count on.

What’s the connection with F. Scott Fitzgerald’s unfinished final novel The Love of the Last Tycoon?
It’s definitely not a concept album as some people think. I just liked the name at first. It suits this very low-key album to have a grandiose pretentious title; make it kind of self-ironic and funny. I saw the movie a couple of years back. But there are some themes there I connect with, the end of an era, the hard struggle in combining love and relationships with ambition and career. Basically failure. Pretty eternal, elemental stuff, really. I write about it, but would write about it anyway, without that title.

What are Bjorn and John doing while you’re on tour–are they safely off the streets?
I think so. John is taking it easy and Bjorn is producing, as he always does.

Peter Moren - 2008 Tour Dates
04/21 - New York, NY - Mercury Lounge
04/22 - Cambridge, MA - Middle East Upstairs
04/23 - Montreal, QC - Cabaret Musee Juste Pour Rire
04/24 - Toronto, ON - The Mod Club
04/25 - Columbus, OH - Wexner Center
04/26 - Chicago, IL - Schubas Tavern
04/28 - Vancouver, BC - Biltmore Cabaret
04/29 - Seattle, WA - The Triple Door
04/30 - Portland, OR - Doug Fir Lounge
05/01 - San Francisco, CA - Swedish American Hall
05/02 - Los Angeles, CA - The Hotel Café
05/03 - Los Angeles, CA - Troubadour

Growing Up, Going Major, and Playing For Fuzz

Alkaline Trio is playing a free concert presented by Fuzz on Monday, April 7 at San Francisco’s historic Café Du Nord. To whet your appetite, we got the Chicago punk trio’s lead singer and guitarist Matt Skiba to tell us a little bit about what the 60 ticket winners from around the world could expect to see at the show, as well as the details of the group’s new album-in-progress (and Epic debut) due later this year. It’s not too late to enter for a chance to win tickets at www.fuzz.com/alkalinetrio (winners will be selected on Friday, April 4th, 2008 at 12PM).

Fuzz: You’ve been doing this more than a decade. Why did it take you so long to sign with a major label?
Alkaline Trio: We’ve been walking the line between indie and major for a while since Interscope bought a share of Vagrant Records. It wasn’t a conscious decision. It just sort of happened by default. We never had any rules set for what kind of label we were going to be on. We always wanted to work with people that we like and trust and are passionate about putting out records, and after V2 crumbled all the people we wanted to work with went to Sony and they brought us along.

So can people expect orchestras and children’s choirs on your new album?
There’s definitely some orchestral stuff happening–not much children’s choirs. Some of the songs are a little more stripped down. Some of the songs are more intricate. I don’t think it’s going to surprise anybody. When we put out our first seven-inch on a Chicago punk label and then signed to Asian Man Records people called us sell-outs. You can’t win. But it’s never bothered us. I’ve never felt like I have to explain myself to anyone. I just hope the fans trust us because we care about the band as much as they do. No matter what label we’re on we would have made the same record we made.

Is this your first live show in a while?
We haven’t played since the Warped Tour last year, so we’re just excited to get out and play. We’re going to play one or two new songs but we want to keep the element of surprise with the new material because you never know when your album is going to leak. If it was up to us we would play the whole record.

How did you pick Café Du Nord?
I really like that place. I lived in San Francisco for a couple of years and I used to go to Café Du Nord often. It’s a beautiful place. It’s small. It’s a really cool place to play. If we’re going to play a smaller show, Du Nord is the place to do it.

What have you learned being in this band over the past 10 years?
You have to learn not to take yourself too seriously. If you do you’re not going to have any fun. I take much better care of myself. I don’t get wasted every night. When you’re young there are all these temptations on the road and it’s easy to let shit get out of control. These days we keep the party to a dull roar. I enjoy playing music so much more and it’s more fun when I actually remember the shows. Beyond that I don’t have any deep wisdom to share.

Bob Mould has his entire discography memorized. When summoned, he can recite the title of every album he’s put out with Hüsker Dü, noise-pop trio Sugar and as a solo artist in precise chronological order. “That’s how I keep track of my life,” he says. “If it weren’t for those things I would have no idea what I’d done.” The trick is even more impressive when you consider that the punk icon started doing this in 1979, releasing roughly an album a year once Hüsker Dü got off the ground before taking a much deserved soul-searching break in the late ’90s. Not that he was off on an island sipping Mai Tai’s–Mould immersed himself in New York City’s club culture, took a detour into electronic music and moonlighted as a scriptwriter for World Championship Wrestling. Now back on the road with the spiky District Line, we asked Mould to talk us through the records that meant the most to him.

Hüsker Dü Zen Arcade (1984)
Mould: “That was a double-album in an era when economy was the rule. The Minutemen were quick to fall behind and then other people started to stretch out. That was a turning point for us. People took the band seriously at that point.”

Hüsker Dü Flip Your Wig (1985)
Mould: “I’m skipping over New Day Rising because this was the last really fun record to make in that bad setting. We had been working with Spot (engineer) but it was time to see what we could do ourselves. Grant Hart and I took control of the project. It was a great pop record and it was the last fun time I had in the band.”

Bob Mould Workbook (1989)
Mould: “After all the Hüsker Dü stuff, to come out with a record that was all acoustic based, that was important to me. I spent a lot of time trying to grow as a songwriter.”

Sugar Copper Blue (1992) and Beaster EP (1993)
Mould: “Those two were recorded at the same time. That might be my favorite period of all time. That record means more to my fans than anything else I’ve done. That’s the one where I hit my stride as a songwriter, just writing one good pop song after another. It was right after Nirvana exploded and the stars lined up. Even MTV was behind us. That record sold well over half-a-million copies. I did well.”

Bob Mould Body of Song (2005)
Mould: “I was really happy with it. My stock was down after the electronic stuff. People were confused and didn’t know where I was heading. To head back into a more traditional songwriting style, that was a good turnaround for me. It’s a guitar record that’s embellished with electronics when needed. It got everybody back on track.”