Lost Politics: Full Transcription

Tomorrow's edition of Seven Days features an interview with Thee Silver Mt. Zion co-founder Efrim Menuck. As so often happens, the confines of the print edition require that conversations such as this one be trimmed down to fit the physical limitations of the space. Thanks to the unceasing wonders of the Internet, no such constraints exist in the blogosphere. So you, loyal Solid State readers, get to check out the interview in its entirety. Enjoy.

PS- If you haven't bought tickets to this show yet, you really should. Like now.

Lost Politics

A Conversation with Thee Silver Mt. Zion’s Efrim Menuck

Tick Tick Presents: Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra & Tra-La-La Band with Oak and Greg Davis & Friends this Friday at First Unitarian Universalist Church in Burlington, 8 p.m. $12/13/15. AA.

STORY: DAN BOLLES

The members of Montreal’s Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra & Tra-La-La Band have passionate social and political beliefs, reflected by an equally passionate fan base — even though their music itself is rarely explicitly political. Seven Days recently spoke with SMZ co-founder Efrim Menuck about politics, misconceptions and a certain ad for the TV show “Lost,” in advance of their upcoming Burlington performance.

SD: TSMZ is often tabbed as a “political” band. But that seems to be a designation you bristle at.
EFRIM MENUCK: For the most part we get broadly cast as a political band or anarchists or openly idealistic. There are all sorts of generalizations made about us, and I think that’s what I bristle at. We don’t conceive of ourselves as activists or political. We just think of ourselves as formed, grown-up human beings who choose to write songs that sort of address the mess that the world is in. There aren’t any statements we’ve made that are contentious or anything. They all seem to be plainly held truths by most people. You know what I mean? I don’t know why people feel the need to characterize us as “political anarchists” or anything. But it’s really far from the truth.
    It’s frustrating too. There was a time — I mean, it seems like forever ago now — where, like a lot of people, we were sort of on the margins of the anti-globalization movement and going to protests and stuff like that. There’s a level of politicization that happens in that context that we were definitely a part of. There were references made in songs, specifically about those types of movements.
    It’s frustrating at points too because there are a lot of people [for whom] that whole milieu is alien to them. You’re trying to write songs that are kind of nuanced, but it’s kind of specific. It can be frustrating feeling like you have to give someone a sort of like “International Protest Movement for Beginners” spiel or something.

SD: Does that have anything to do with 13 Blues being the first album for which you’ve included lyrics with the liner notes?
EM: There are a lot of people who like our band for whom English is not their first language. So we mostly wanted to put the lyrics somewhere so people who didn’t speak English that well necessarily, would have a bit of a chance at understanding what was going on. So I posted a bunch of the lyrics just on the Internet for that purpose. And when this album cam out I just told [Constellation Records] “This time, there’s gonna be a lyric sheet.”

SD: You’re often pointed to as the “leader” of the band, but that’s not entirely true. It’s more of a collective process isn’t it?
EM: It is absolutely a collective process. We’ll start with a handful of riffs . . . there’s very few songs where I’ll come in with chords or lyrics ready, you know? There’s maybe three songs like that in the history of the band. But for the most part we’ll start with a handful of riffs until some sort of rough structure is there. Then we’ll start adding counter lines and melodies and things. Then, really late in the process, I’ll start writing words and sort of roughing them into the song. It takes us about a month of serious work to get a song together, because we’re all stubborn and have this strange writing process.

SD: And they’re all pretty epic songs. Like, ten-plus minutes.
EM: We’ve tried to write shorter songs. I guess it’s maybe not a strong point for us. We sort of need that much runway. We’re self-conscious about it, so we try to make it as concise as we can.

SD: Not to get political again, but have you been following the US presidential election?
EM: Yeah. yes I have. Mostly though because it’s ridiculous theater at this point. It’s like evidence of everything that’s wrong, not just with your political system, but with political systems of all the wealthy industrialized nations. It’s like watching a train wreck.
    There’s no truth there. The way it’s spoken about. The way arguments are contextualized and framed, it’s clear that it’s the cable news networks that are running the show. They have a vested interest in continuing specific narratives and they’ll just spin things however they want to.
    It’s frustrating, and I can imagine it’s even more frustrating for an American. Somewhere there’s some sort of policy discussion going on. But you’d be hard-pressed to find it.
    It’s sad too because it socializes politicians to this sort of dull grey fog. Obama got a free pass for a while because it was such a novelty that there was a charismatic dude running for office who spoke off the cuff a bit. It’s sort of like what happened with Dean too, although he wasn’t too charismatic. But [Obama] is like a totally different dude now. So I don’t know.
    At the same time, whoever gets elected President is going to be at the reins of a train wreck. I don’t envy that person.

SD: I promised a friend that I’d ask you about how “Tho You Are Gone I Still Often walk With You” came to be used on the ABC show “Lost.”
EM: Every year we get offers to license music for movies, television shows and advertisements and we say “no, no, no, no, no.”  We turn down like tens of thousands of dollars every year because it’s either a piece of a song that we really have an attachment to or that we know other people have an attachment to. Or what they want to license it for is something that we just find heinous or boring. And so this “Lost” thing came in and there’s some people in the band that watch that show. And also it’s a little ten-second chunk of a song that none of us feel any attachment to.
    We talk to people after shows; we’re an open band that way. And in all of the touring we’ve done, no one, no one, has ever brought up that song as something they’ve liked or was important to them. So it was really like a perfect storm of “OK, like, what the hell?”
    It’s been interesting because our engagement with the music industry has always been incredibly pragmatic. You know what I mean? We try not to fuck people over and we take every decision that we make very seriously and we don’t grab at the easy quick money ever. What it comes down to is that it was a perfect storm of mitigating factors. It was ultimately a pretty easy decision to make and a pretty easy decision to justify.
    The other thing is the ad screened for a total of one week. That was the deal. We got some e-mails at the beginning, before the ad even screened,  from outside fans who were obviously “Lost” fans because they were on ABC’s  website going through trailers. They were like “What are you doing?” And it’s like well, dude, you’re obviously way more into the show than any of us are. Those were sort of the only questioning e-mails we got about it. And then Pitchfork picked it up . . .
    So much of what gets written about us is that we’re hardcore anarchists and that we’re lecturesome. So you start with that and then we sell ten seconds of a song to a “Lost” ad and it’s like “Ha ha! Fucking sellouts.” And it’s this boring narrative.
    At the same time, we know that there are lots of people who are fans of what we do who expect us to maintain this hard line, sort of absolute negation of anything corporate. So for those people, we’ve had conversations after shows about this stuff. I mean . . . again, we’ve been pragmatic in our approach with the entertainment industry. And we’re also, first and foremost, working musicians and prideful of that.
If you actually want to get into what our political stance is, that’s the sloppy little plank in our platform. We’re prideful and take playing music seriously as a trade, like any other trade. We expect and we demand that musicians get treated with respect and don’t get exploited.
    It was a fairly easy decision to make and I don’t think it’ll happen again in the career of this band. If it weren’t for the fact that it was like a piece of music that we didn’t feel any attachment to and no fans seem to feel an attachment to, it never would have happened. And if it hadn’t been a program that some people in the band actually watch on televisions that don’t even have cable. So yeah, that’s the long story.

The Homecoming — Full Length

Greetings Solid State!

Today's edition of the paper featured a portion of an interview I recently conducted with Gabby and Burette Doulgas of  The Cush. Due to space limitations, I was only able print about a third of the conversation. What follows is that interview, in its entirety. Enjoy!

****

There’s been a noticeable void in the Burlington music scene for the last six months or so as Gabrielle and Burette Douglas of psychedelic rock outfit The Cush retreated to the sunny climes of their home state of Texas for the winter. Long one of the area’s most revered acts, the return of these particular snowbirds is a welcome sight, particularly after yet another long, cold and eerily quiet Vermont winter.
    Seven Days recently caught up with the husband and wife duo at Muddy Waters Café in Burlington in advance of their homecoming gig this Thursday at Higher Ground.

SD: You guys were doing a lot of recording Texas, so when can we expect the new album?
BURETTE DOUGLAS: We don’t know. If we get set up here [Burlington] in time . . . it just depends on how much we get done. If we get enough done, it might be a full record. Or we might do an EP and the hold on to the rest.
    We have a residency tour next month; we’re doing every Tuesday at Pete’s Candy Store in New York City and every Wednesday at The Fire in Philadelphia. And we have some fill in dates in between.
    So we’re gonna do that next month and then back on the recording, concentrate on that and have something by the fall. We have about 30 minutes of music right now.

SD: What’s the lineup nowadays?
GABRIELLE DOUGLAS: Our friend Cody Lee is playing drums with us. He’s from Texas. He played in our old band for about seven years and went over to England with us. It’s been going great. It’s a three-piece so far.

BD: The band’s been morphing for the last few years it seems like. But it’s always like that.

SD: That must have quite an effect on your music.
BD: A little bit, you know. At first we were real worried about it. We used to be a five-piece. And then we were a four-piece with keyboards and stuff. The biggest thing was playing as a three-piece without the keyboard parts.
    The first time we did it, it was for people who had seen us like a million times and they were like “Oh man, the three-piece is my favorite.” So that was reassuring.

GB: Especially in Dallas-Ft. Worth, our friends there have been with us through so many different phases and they were like, “with the three-piece there’s nothing missing. It sounds just as full.”
    Any time you have more members and then break it down, it pushes you in a creative way to figure out how you can play the melody that might be missing.

BD: It puts the songs across in their most basic form. Which is good. You can definitely hear the singing better. We’re trying to concentrate a little bit more on creating sounds with harmonies.

SD: So are the recordings in that stripped-down kind of vein?
BD: A little bit. While we were there [Texas], we recorded drum tracks and they had a piano. So anything we wanted piano on . . . right now it’s kind of piano heavy.
    We have other songs that we’d never recorded with The Cush that we’re going to do up here. We’d like to record Steve [Hadeka] on some stuff because he’s never been on one of records and he was with us for a couple of years.
    I don’t think it’ll be “stripped-down.” I don’t know, there’ll probably be some stuff that’ll still be . . .

GD: It’ll still have all the ear candy.

BD: Right. You know how it is. The record’s one thing and the live show is a little different.

GD: The thing is that it’s happened naturally. Every time we get ready to record, we never have too much of a structured idea of “this is how it’s going to sound.” It just evolves.

BD: I thought the last record was going to be pretty random. There were some songs that I thought didn’t really fit in. But I got out-voted. But then in the end, they really do fit in.
    So right now, we’ve recorded all these ideas that we’ve had. And listening back, it’s kind of all over the place. But by the time we’re done, it’ll be pretty interesting.

SD: How does the scene in Dallas-Ft. Worth differ from Burlington?
GD: Well, one thing is that everything is really big there. We came from Dallas and there was definitely a big music scene there, at the time. But it’s real spread out.
    Here, you’ll walk down the street and you’ll be like “Oh, I saw that guy playing at the Radio Bean last night.” You kind of know who does what and it’s a small small enough place where you could go up to someone and say, “Hey, do you want come over and do some recording?” It’s really cool. There, not really so much. It’s more clique-ish.

BD: There’s not a community there, like there is here, the overall support. You have that in cliques and certain groups. But it’s such a big place, it’s hard for people to come together.
    It's pretty competitive out there. We went back to the places we used to play, like 10 years ago in Dallas. It was crazy. All the stages are really big there, so you have places about the size of Higher Ground, but you'll have 10 of those in like three blocks. And it's like that in Austin too. So it's definitely real competitive for bands to get gigs.
    We went there and that whole part of time is all closed up. The scene just dried up. There's little pockets . . .

GD: We had noticed that before we left. We used to live right around the corner from those places and right before we left, it was changing. And we weren't too interested in the vibe. We'd experienced Texas, Austin . . . and we really like the Northeast. So, going back, it was really reaffirming in a lot of ways.

BD: Dallas got less cool and Ft. Worth got a lot cooler. There's a lot of good bands, that's for sure.

GD: South by Southwest was amazing. Austin still seems to be the place. But it is very competitive.

BD: Texas is so big that it's kinda like its own country. So for a lot of bands, just to be a big band in Texas is a big deal because it's a lot of space to cover. And there's really nowhere else to go. Oklahoma City, New Orleans, anywhere else you're gonna be on tour . . . and we've done that. So be up here, to be able to play in other large cities that are really close is a good thing for us. And it still is.

GD: And with the price of gas, it's going to make touring that much more difficult, especially in Texas.

SD: I've actually been wondering when you're going to start seeing effects from that, seeing fewer bands touring because they simply can't afford gas.
BD: I mean, this May, we're going to have to stay in New York instead of coming back to Vermont each week, because that's like $200 bucks each time.

SD: That's a sad commentary when it's cheaper to stay in NYC than to come home. But you guys were able to tour to and from Texas?
BD: We toured down with Ryan [Power]. He was going to visit his brother [in Arkansas], so it was a good way for him to get out of town. Ryan is pretty much a permanent member.
    We played a few bars, but we played a lot of collectives. And those places are always the best. They pay you better, it's more supportive. It worked out really well because between either him or us, we knew people in every town. We didn't make any money, but we definitely paid our way down there. And we played a little bit while we were down there.
    Basically the tour back up was we could either drive up. Or we could drive up and play shows.

GD: St. Louis was cool. There are quite a few folks out there that know us and were there to see us. They found us on MySpace and had been fans for a couple of years.

SD: Ah, the wonders of MySpace!
BD: It's interesting to see, the whole MySpace thing. We've been around since the '90s and it's a lot easier now. People already know you, they already know your songs. That's really neat.

GD: Every place we played, Chicago, Philadelphia, St. Louis, Columbus . . . there was a really good reception. People bought CDs, they knew who we were.

BD: And, on the way down, we played DC and got an e-mail from this guy, Luke Erickson, who was interested in managing us, which we've been waiting on for years. He's from Vermont, but he just got a job with Gold Mountain Entertainment which manages folks like Steve Earle, Band of Horses and a lot of other good bands. He asked us if we need any help.
    We didn't even meet him until South By Southwest. We'd just talked to him on the phone. But he had some ideas for us and has been working some things out. It's been a big help, but it's something we needed like, two years ago.
    We had that distribution deal with Undertow and they distributed our record. But that was about it.
    We're trying to just build our own team. We can record our own records. Indie labels don't have any money. And we have friends on major labels and the labels are telling them that they're not going to do anything special. So what's the point?
    Everybody wants to be independent now, so if we can just build our own little team . . .

GD: Before, not only were we creatively producing the music, but we were trying to promote the band too. And that's a lot of work. We both have day jobs and it's like having a second job. We just knew that if we stuck with it, one day we'd have a pool of people. And that's happening now.

SD: You guys spent some time in England last summer. Any plans to go back?
BD: A label in England, Sonic Cathedral, is going to put out a single from out last record and maybe a new song, we're not sure. That's going to come out this summer and we'll be on a compilation at the end of the year.
    Going to England was cool. We sort of broke into this whole underground psychedelic thing that I never really knew was out there. It's a pretty big scene over there. It's totally different from what you would expect. It's not all druggy or whatever. It's about cool art.

GD: It reminded me a lot of Vermont, actually. There's a community there. there's artists supporting artists and spreading the word about each other.. There's a couple of festivals that want to have us back in July and we want to book some shows in London. But we understand that it's really expensive to do that so . . .

BD: We paid our way to get over there the first time and we knew that if we went it would help open some doors, which it did. But we'll see what happens.

SD: So are are you guys glad to be back?
GD: Yes!
BD: Absolutely.

Godspeed, You Black Emperor

Casey Rea will be leaving Burlington in roughly one week — or as Casey might say, not fuckin' soon enough. I'm not sure that he planned it this way, but I do find it curious that the week he and his lovely wife Brooke chose to fly the coop is the one week that I'd likely have too much to write about in my column to publicly acknowledge his departure . . . Or maybe he just doesn't like jazz. In either case, shrewd move my dark friend — but you ain't getting off that easy.

I've known of Casey for some time, originally as the the guitarist for local metal heroes Rocketsled, then later as the quintessential record store guy at Pure Pop. It was there that I had my first real encounter with the man, the myth, the legend that is Casey Rea.

About four years ago, I wandered into the dank music Mecca to all things hipper-than-thou, looking for a birthday present for my younger sister, Ariel. At the time, she was particularly enamored with a certain cheesy songwriter named Mason Jennings, who'd just released a new album which, for the life of me, I couldn't find anywhere in the store. I'm typically not the type of person to ask a clerk a for assistance unless it's absolutely necessary, and what follows is a perfect example of why.

I approached the counter and asked an attractive young girl if she knew where I might find the record in question. Puzzled, she turned to the man in black behind her and asked if they had any left in the store. Looking up from some sort of paperwork, a pained expression crossed his face. "Bleccchh," was all he said before turning around and exiting the store through a door in the back.

I ended up buying the album at Borders, and Casey, you were right. The album was totally bleccchh.

I won't bore you — or piss off Casey — with fawning flattery. But I would like to say thanks. What we do isn't easy and Burlington has been very lucky to have an advocate — and critic — of your considerable abilities. I truly do have some big black shoes to fill.

Also, on behalf of Burlington, I'd like to say, Fuck The Washington Post.

I'm kinda broke, so this is all I could do as a parting gift, but I think you'll like it.

Good luck, man

Full Avey Tare interview.

Here's my complete interview with Avey Tare of Animal Collective, which appeared in part in the Wed. Nov. 29 issue of Seven Days. What made the print edition was edited for space, and in some instances, clarity! But now you can enjoy the unexpurgated version.

Avey will be appearing with his wife Kria Brekken (ex-mum) at the Firehouse in Burlington on Dec. 5, at 7:30 p.m. Greg Davis will also do a set. Click here for contact info.

Listen to a live performance from Avey & Kria here.

ME: To my ears, your music has grown increasingly rhapsodic. Is beauty a part of your overall aesthetic?

AVEY: I'd say all the things I like are aesthetically beautiful. Really, that means they achieve something very individualistic, and enhance senses and feelings that maybe wouldn't normally be on the surface. There are a lot of different kinds of beauty and that’s definitely translated into my music. Take for instance the film Texas Chainsaw Massacre. To me, its very beautiful; visually, stylistically, etc.. I think chicken bones, human skulls and bloodshed can be beautiful when viewed in a certain light.  But I’m not really a dark, macabre person or into violence at all. Those things don't linger in my day to day life.  Kristin [Kria] doesn't understand why I like films like that.  But to me its about separating them from reality. I just feel like life would be boring if there was only flowers and love. I realize this doesnt really translate into a stable reality, but music is part non-reality to me.

ME: How does working as a duo compare with creating with a band?

AVEY: In a duo it’s important to not let things get too complicated, and let the music come from the two people that are playing rather than trying to overdo things. It’s sometimes hard for me to keep things minimal, so I really like the challenge. I really like minimal music, so I try and embrace it as much as I can when playing with fewer people. 'Cause it's harder when you are playing with three other people.

ME: How did you begin writing/performing with Kria?

AVEY: Initially AC asked Kria to play piano with us while we were recording Feels, 'cause we had been talking about including more piano on an album for awhile, and she is real sweet at the keys. I think we all had a really great time. But beyond that, we started playing lazily in an apartment I had in Paris last summer. I had been living and recording with my friend Eric Copeland there, 'cause we needed a break from New York summers, as they can be brutally hot and disgusting. I was taking time off from the Animal Collective bros, 'cause Noah [Lennox] was about to have his baby, Nadjia. For awhile, Kristin and I were really only able to see each other in between other things  — she was still playing in mum at the time — so we made plans to hang for a month. It seemed really easy and laid back to spend time in our flat just playing acoustic guitar, smoking hash and that kind of thing. Earlier this year she decided to move to NYC, so we started recording a bunch of the songs we wrote in Paris. In April, we were asked to play a small show by our friend Eyvind at this great place in NYC called The Stone, which I don't think many people know about. We did a similar thing this summer in Reykjavik. Since we really like to travel together it made sense to do a small tour and try to play some shows in other places. So here we are. I've always liked Vermont, by the way.

ME: I’ve had the pleasure to hear a live set from you two, and I love how intimate it sounds. Could this be a reflection of your personal relationship?

AVEY: There's that, and also just the process of making our music, which usually happens in an apartment. Perhaps on record it might come to be a bit more produced, but I think the intimate quality will always be important. I will always like transportive music, so that remains an element, too.

ME: Your earliest work was less centered on song form than some of your more current output. Do you feel you’re gravitating toward a new melodic center?

AVEY: This gets said about AC alot, and though I do know what you are talking about, I think our early recorded output really reflects a time where we were focused on learning to play live together. When you're playing with other people I think you really have to let everyone shine, otherwise it usually seems forced or controlled. I think Spirit They're Gone is one of our more melodic releases, personally. But that's just me writing those tunes and not a group playing.  After releasing that, we wanted to experiment with sounds and forms and feel how it was to really play together and work more with iprov. Just to see what would happen if no one took the reigns but the melodies were still there. Melodies have always been somthing that Noah and I love writing, 'cause at least for me personally, I'm not a virtuoso on any instrument. So I've spent alot of time on writing melodies and translating them in interesting ways. I guess with AC records like Sung Tongs or Feels, Noah and I have gotten a little more confident about structuring our songs with each other or the other dudes and letting the melodies provide structure to the song. Whereas as for awhile, we'd just let the structure make itself.

ME: Animal Collective has garnered a great deal of acclaim in the last few years. Has this affected you or your bandmates creative process?

AVEY: It hasn’t, really. It’s always been really important for us to focus on the current music we’re making and not let it be affected by anything other than what’s going on in our lives. I don’t even read what people say about us anymore, ’cause usually I don’t agree with it anyway. I’ve enjoyed making all of our records and am proud of all of them, although I can see why a group of people may prefer some to others. In a perfect world, a large amount of people could find ways to appreciate records by Family Fodder and Folk Rabe. Or even something more concrete like Luc Ferrari or Black Dice. But in truth, most people would rather hear the Beatles, and I know it. But none of us have been disillusioned by any hype we’ve gotten. I think we’ve always wanted to make new and interesting music, music that we would want to listen to, and explore new territory, ’cause that’s what keeps it fun and interesting. We always hoped to have as many people as possible appreciate something about what we are doing, but it was never a goal to have lots and lots of people into us. We would change what we want to do to win more people’s attention.

ME: Did you ever expect that kind of attention for your work?

AVEY: I personally try not to expect anything and just hope for the best. I think as long as a person enjoys and believes in the music they are making, or anything they do, then they will be happy. At least as far as personal achievements goes.

ME: The first time I heard your music I honestly felt like it was playing inside my head. Is it that way for you?

AVEY: A friend of Kristin and mine were just talking about how original ideas like melodies, etc. are things that are just floating about in the ether around us and they get picked up by people who are sensitive to them. I guess if you believe in things like Jung's concept of universal consciousness — which I do — [Casey's note: me too] then perhaps what you're saying holds some truth. I don't know where the melodies I write come from — they just pop into my head. I think [Yamataka] Eye from the Boredoms said that music is something that's always happening around us and that musicians just tune into it and bring it into the physical realm.  Any musician that's had the experience of playing with others and found something magical happening knows what I'm talking about. There are a lot of ways to look at it; we could spend an entire interview on this topic alone.  If anything it makes our world seem to have more possibilities, and makes you think that creativity and the imagination is a lot more important then people give credit to in their day-to-day lives.

ME: One thing that I enjoy most about both yours and Kria’s music is that it sounds very organic, even when there are production accoutrements. How do you achieve a balance between raw feel and arrangement?

AVEY: I think it's just a matter of letting the music stay human.  Some bands practice and practice 'til all the notes are perfect and they never miss a beat. There are groups I like that do this, but it really doesn't interest me as far as playing goes. It can be equally as fun or interesting to let the music run wild and not have so much control. It's the same even when we have added ear candy; we try and let it flow with us and not be stuck in some program where it always has to start at the same time or do the same things.

ME: For one reason or another, I've been asking a lot of artists about spirituality in music. I hear it in your stuff, but I can't seem quantify it. That's not a bad thing. It's kind of like waves lapping, or something. How do you feel about it?

AVEY: In a lot of ways, I'm a spiritual person, and I do believe in the spirituality of music. But for me, it stays on a very personal level. I think a lot of times people use words like "shaman" and "spirituality" and "mystical" to describe our music, and, while I for one am interested in all of those things, most of the group isn't really. Well I mean, it's not that they aren't, but we don't sit around trying to come up with new shamanistic techniques or discuss spirituality.  We're really just four guys interested in making some special sonic music. I think some of us are still trying to figure out where spirituality fits in our lives. I think that music can just be very spiritual on its own, without speaking about it in any way. There's something about starting to play and losing all sense of everything physical around you besides the sounds.

ME: Plenty of music journalists have lumped your work into catchall categories. Does that ever annoy you?

AVEY: Sure it does, but that's just the way it is. I don't think that process will ever be changed, and if it helps anyone out there locate us or find a way into our world, then I ultimately don't mind. Honestly, the "freak-folk" thing is a big joke to us and all of our friends at this point. It's funny that journalists are still using that term, but what can you do?

ME: Is there anything that you've heard, seen or experienced lately that has inspired you artistically?

AVEY: It sounds cheesy to say, but I really try and let everything be some sort of an inspiration. Otherwise, I'd probably start getting very angry or jaded, or maybe even bored. Off the top of my head? I just saw Black Dice and they are always an inspiration to me.  Also, I recently went snorkeling in Australia. You sometimes forget how powerful the current of the ocean is.

ME: What would you like to do musically that you’ve yet to attempt?

AVEY: I'd definitely like to make a record without guitars. Other then that, I think it's just about searching out what I haven't found yet.          

Stopgap post.

Later today, I plan to post audio excerpts from my conversation with Built to Spill's Brett Netson. The band rocks HG on Sunday.

I may offer more such clips in the future. That way, you can be privy to some of the weird shit that happens in interviews — like Jolie Holland singing me a Willie Nelson song. Which really doesn't come across in print.

But now I'm at work, where my editing software isn't.

By the by, you might notice today's Seven Days is a little different, layout-wise. Let me know what you think.

And finally, Jenny Lewis is such a doll. Here's what's on her iPod, courtesy The Onion.

Built to Spill his guts.

Just got off the horn with Brett Netson, guitarist extrordiaire of Built to Spill — long-time faves of mine. Netson goes all the way back with them. Although he sometimes isn't in the band, he's played on every one of their records that I hold dear.

Cool dude, laid-back, no BS. We talked a lot of geeky shit about amps, which he also builds. I told him he should buy my '74 Fender Super Reverb, which, at this point serves as a coffee table in my studio.

There was also a good bit of bitchin' about today's mainstream rock. Suffice it to say, emokid1987 would not approve of our conversation.

By the way, I made up that last handle. But I'm sure there's a little brother on the Panic! at the Disco message board with that very username.

Buzz cutting.

"Cuz I can ford a red eed only street a wide a ree land."

I just got off the phone with the legendary Buzz Osbourne of the Melvins. We were supposed to chat at 1 p.m., but he was "at band practice." Rad! At least I got to hear his outgoing message, which is the theme song to "Alfred Hitchcock Presents." Now that's punk-rock.

It was a rapid-fire conversation — he's really quite the cutup.

Here's a tidbit: Buzz claims to be responsible for Kurt Cobain's demise. Kurt used to follow the Melvins around like a little puppy; by giving him a window into the rock-roll lifestyle, Buzz started a chain reaction that ended with a solitary shotgun blast.

He totally remembered the show they played in Burlington just days after Cobain's death. "Yeah, that was with The Obsessed," he said. Heavy.

I was recently sent the Melvins' upcoming disc, Senile Animal. It's good, but a couple of tunes seem to rip off Houdini and Stoner Witch. Probably bound to happen after 25 years of rock.

Try this one on for size:

"A History of Drunks"

Ummm...

So I just heard that the Flaming Lips won't be doing any interviews in advance of their Sept. 7th performance at UVM. Guess I can't ask Wayne about that giant hamster ball.

Say, didn't State of Mind Magazine do something on them somewhat recently?

I might not make the Lips' list, but you know who will talk to me, dont'cha? Bob "Pottymouth" Saget, that's who.

Stay tuned.