US Girls & Slim Twig, Stockholm 2011. © Carl A
Some general impressions of the past five indie years or so: the influx of vague, arty, lo-fi, art brut psychedelic Gesamt-combos (or loners) soaked an entire segment (a more diplomatic term than ”market”) of young blasés impregnated with an asexual nervousness and poetic licenselessness. Vague en vogue. The reinvention of the lo-fi wheel through embracing cassettes and cheap gear. The mumbling of evanescence in slow motion. The result was, as it often is with these waves or specific trends, mixed. The run-of-the-mill faux nostalgia versions either learned to play a real instrument or found a new fashion fad. The genuine artists, however, always delve deeper into areas and methods they find stimulating, and take it from there.
Two of these deeper, experimentally substantial lo-fi loners swept over Stockholm as support acts for Silver Apples in November 2011: Canadian Slim Twig (a.k.a. Max Turnbull) and American US Girls (a.k.a. Meghan Remy). Although similar in approach and technique (microphone, cassette players, effect boxes, spontaneously and roughly mixed by themselves on a small table on stage), they differ somewhat in expression.
Slim Twig is generally based in a structured minimalist vault of Americana. From this centre of dark songwriting and dramatic vocals, he allows himself and the music to space out and the results are quite hypnotic. Max’ self-penned description is quite fitting: ”Psychedelic Art-Pop conjuring an alternative reality where the Mael brothers took a wrong turn and relocated to Germany instead of England to ghostwrite for Krautrock bands.”
Meghan Remy bends open the audience’s minds with a genuinely remarkable performance that is probably best described as ”psychotic girl group karaoke punk”. What makes it extra enticing is that she sings really well in a fertile hybrid between Wanda Jackson and classic 60s girl groups, occasionally drifting into more countryesque vibrations, but churns it all down into the abyss of the hands-on twists, turns and knobs of her musical machinery. The result is awe-inspiring and quite often terrifying, although there’s always something really sweet in there too.
Both these artists make really interesting music that is highly recommended. They also run a little label operation together, Calico, which is commendable and should be supported. And they are hauntingly present live despite, or perhaps thanks to, their loose and semi-improvisational approach. With all of this in mind, I couldn’t help but rudely impose myself on their pre-performance dinner and ask some questions.
Where do you think it comes from, this sort of dreamy sound collage thing? What was the original inspiration when you started out?
Meg: Just to do something alone, pretty much. I always played in a band and I wanted to not have to work with anyone else or to not listen to anyone else’s feedback or ideas even. Just to be and do whatever I wanted to be and do. Also the challenge to see if I could do that as just one person and not be like a singer/songwriter with an acoustic guitar or with a piano or something like that. Trying to mix big sounds using little things, just one small person.
Max: I like the autonomy of being one person and all that. For me the kind of collage aspect in previous releases… I’ve kind of moved away from that, but I used to be very inspired by a lot of American sample based music, like the Wu Tang Clan for example, like a lot of hip hop and the collage aspect for that kind of music, trying to fuse that with more of an approach to songwriting. So that’s where my interest in collage based music came about. Even though it doesn’t sound necessarily as in the same universe it is kind of re-appropriating ideas like that.
But the interesting thing is that it’s not only that kind of attitude, of meshing things and stuff like that, but it’s also a re-integration of vintage technology. It’s not computer-based, it’s not MIDI-based, but rather hands-on tapes, the return of the cassettes…
Meg: For me personally a computer seems like something that is thinking like another person or something. When it’s older equipment there are mechanisms inside that are moving and you’re still the one who is the controller of it, whereas the computer seems to have its own mind. I think the older equipment is… You’re more the master.
Wouldn’t you say also that the older stuff has three sound dimensions whereas computers, no matter how many plug-ins you have, tend to become two dimensional?
Max: I think the outcome with computers is very predictable. You put in a setting and you get exactly what you anticipate. With the analog stuff there’s room for error and for the spontaneity that’s often the kind of magical aspect of recordings.
Speaking of that thing, magical aspects... Have you ever come across weird states of mind stemming from not only the audience and the feedback but also from your music in itself and sound collaging things live?
Meg: A lot of times when I’m playing I can see my brain being split into two, almost like one eye is like this and one eye is like this (points in different directions)… It’s like one eye and part of the brain is doing the set and then the other part is completely detached and thinking about anything from something I’ve got to do tomorrow, to the next thing, to something I saw earlier, an idea, anything. A lot of the times I feel that, and sometimes that can happen too when looking at someone in the audience. It’s almost like that one side of my brain goes through what they are seeing or something. I mean that doesn’t happen, but it does in a way, the feeling is very strong. And when that happens I almost feel like my body is releasing some sort of chemical, like endorphins or something. I feel it in the veins. It’s a change of perspective that’s so different to what you’re used to, it’s almost like taking a drug or something.
It’s not far fetched at all, because the frequency and sound in general affects the body and, of course, it really does release endorphins, so that was indeed a good answer. How about you?
Max: Magical states of mind? I think of it much as my answer about analog technology and allowing room for spontaneity. I feel the same about performance. It doesn’t happen in every show but I think that if you’re open to it, you can allow your performance to change from night to night. That doesn’t necessarily mean improvising but just being open to different atmospheres… A lot of that happens because of the reaction between the performer and the audience or just a certain vibe or a certain state of mind that can make the performances more interesting.
I can imagine that you’re not working with very strict pre-sets or pre-planning. Does it happen that the initial audience feedback makes you want to do things that you haven’t thought of before you went on stage? In terms of the tapes you’re using or raising the volume?
Meg: Yeah, I think my volume level definitely depends on the room and I find that if I’m feeling very awkward, I turn up more as the sound may be like a security blanket or something, or like a wall between me and everyone else or whatever, because you’re exposed up there sometimes. Or sometimes you play a show and your energy is so good and you see the people are dancing and I choose to do something that will make them keep on dancing instead of playing some downer. But sometimes I don’t notice anybody at all, like I don’t look up, I don’t look at anyone even once during the set and it’s just an insular kind of thing. It just depends on the night, you know.
Max: I think if an audience is interested and it’s evident that they are enjoying what we’re doing, then that’s infinitely more exciting for me and makes me feel that I can challenge the audience more. Whereas if I’m sensing that they are not as interested, I kind of retract a little. Particularly playing as one person, it’s a very vulnerable position to be in. When you’re in a band you can kind of rely on that, “well this is the music by all four of us” rather than “this is purely me”, you know. So I think when you’re one person you’re more in tune with the atmosphere and the vibe and the audience or something.
Meg: What I’ve found is being in a band is being more in tune with who you’re playing with, because the switch is flipped. Personalities within the band matter more than what the audience is like because you have to play and connect with them, and if you’re not, it doesn’t work. So it’s different.
What about sources of inspiration that are not musical? I don’t mean bands, not artists, just other kinds of inspiration.
Meg: I don’t know. It’s a hard question to answer. I think a lot of inspiration for me is thinking about myself as a teenager, thinking back at what I wanted to be at that age and what I wanted to do and how I wanted to grow up and kind of think back on that person and take inspiration from how fearless I was back then, and how my self back then would probably be really into me now and be happy that I evolved in this way or something. I think a lot of inspiration comes from just living the life of a musician or an artist or… Not a business person. It’s inspiring to go against the grain of what you’re supposed to do, just across the board, and think that the best thing that you could do and the most inspiring way to live is to not do what you’ve been brought up to do and go against it all.
Max: I’m inspired by the desire to be happy. What makes me happy is being fulfilled by projects so my life is kind of packaged into little projects, chunks, I guess. Moving between albums or moving between different musical collaborations and… Just trying to stay busy, trying to work hard. That state of being is inspiration enough to fuel the work itself.
US Girls website
Slim Twig website
Calico, Max and Meghan’s record label:
No comments:
Post a Comment