Introduction

Cock-Now Zine has been around for the better part of six or seven years now, however, mostly in runs of very limited editions (100 to 200 copies per issue). Since a lot more people access the internet than ever see the hard copy of Cock-Now (~which to me is still a whole lot finer but, is limited in copies due to cold hard cash), I figured it was about time to start posting some of the interviews and features we’ve done with/on the dozens and dozens of fantastic bands who’ve graced the pages of Cock-Now over the years. These are mostly bands that may not yet have had the exposure they deserve, but who are phenomenal irrespective (~never confuse PR money for great music), and since there are a lot of people into these bands from across the globe who may want to read these interviews (~Cock-Now has always been about community first and foremost, so, in a perfect world we’d meet and connect with everyone who reads the zine, but obviously that’s not possible), this blog now exists as a specific reference to the music section of Cock-Now Zine.

***To see a complete listing of all the articles contained in this blog please scroll down to the bottom of the page and click on the link you like.*** (~I'm trying to figure out how to put this on the top of the page. Sorry!)

It should be noted that Cock-Now Zine has always been about a lot more than just music (~and for the first half of it’s existence, contained virtually nothing on music), featuring tons of poetry, visual arts, prose, essays, collages, and artist interviews, from the documentary film maker Albert Maysles, to the poet Eileen Myles, to the brothers Berrigan interviewing each other. However this specific blog will focus on the music section of Cock-Now, in order to try and connect the bands that are contained therein, and maybe make others aware of bands they may like if they’re already here checking out a friends band.

Anyway, thanks to all the bands who took part in these interviews, and who we’ve played with on the last few Cock-Now Zine release party tours across the North East. It’s been a blast. Enjoy*

ps: past years interviews will be uploaded as we find them or type them into the computer. There’s been a lot over the years so the current 14 up are the most recent, however the older interviews will be added in the not so distant future so check back for those....peace.

pps: the painting above was done by the fabulous artist Katherine Betty Jones.

Sensual Dreams: An Interview with Sleeping Kings of Iona - by Ben Malkin

It’s like the longing for intimacy that is constantly disappointed, so shrouds itself in music to escape the pain or, builds a cathedral of intimacy where none exists in love, giving voice to the feelings one feels when we found a love in the streets but it was not ours, swinging b/w the pendulum of dramatic and subdued because were human and keep it all in, but explode sometimes when the tension inside, the tension we internalize, becomes to much to bear, and must be released, spread its wings like a phoenix rising from the ashes of the charred remains of our love, because all thats been held in and held back (& built up) must be released: Therein lie the sensual dreams which make up the music which is The Sleeping Kings of Iona.

Cock-Now: The British artist Rachel Whiteread’s sculptures cast the negative spaces of common domestic objects. In her biography in the Sensation art book they say her work "...literally solidifies the absence of the object -whether it be a room, a house, a chair, a bathtub or a hot-water bottle - making it into a tangible, material thing. With the opacity or luminescence of plaster, rubber or resin, the sculptures create an iconography of memory and loss. They are the negative imprint, both relic and residue, of something that once was, their surfaces still showing legible traces of the object from which they were cast. Twice removed from their origin, they are both ghostly fossils and physical embodiments of ossified, negative space." Although they are describing sculpture above, this description of Rachel Whiteread’s work seems an apt description for the music of the Sleeping Kings as well. The songs to me seem a very beautiful "negative imprint, both relic and residue, of something that once was..., thus serving as both ghostly fossils and physical embodiments of ossified, negative space" (~the solid object they are born from in this case being the feelings and situations that gave birth to the song). The physical embodiment of this negative space (of the feelings), i.e. the songs, becomes something quite beautiful and other worldly in this way (think side two of Joy Divisions ‘Closer’), so my question to you is do you think (the going through) pain is somehow justified when it can be reincarnated into such beautiful negative space (or songs)?

Sleeping Kings of Iona: I wouldnt say that pain is necessarily what we’re feeling. I would say that it is melancholy or even sad moments that we are translating into music. Part of the joy of the negative spaces are the positive moments that come afterwards. So, yes, we do believe it is justified.

CN: "One very strong movement in the late nineteenth century and twentieth centuries was towards music as an immersive, environmental experience...Its a drift away from narrative and towards landscape, from performed event to sonic space." - Brian Eno

And although Eno was referring to classical and modernist composers, I feel like this statement also refers to some ambiguous amorphous fact that makes the Sleeping Kings different from other indie or electronica bands, the fact that your sound worlds are so immersive, more like places or environmental spaces (spaces to enter, worlds to live in, rather than traditional songs, worlds of feelings): Do you think we create these sonic spaces to fill the emotional voids left from life, and do you think by letting the sounds ring out (by giving them space to breathe) we are somehow expressing uncertainty, the spaces between certainties (where we exist most of the time [i.e. not knowing what other people are thinking or feeling])?

SKOI: They are what we are feeling at the moment. You can’t dive into the song. The creation of these songs are to fill a void, but not for specifics. We never want to rush into anything because we understand that its important to let it breathe. We like things that are strict but we also like things to flow.

CN: Longing Longing Held back, like the moment of holding your breath, waiting for the moment to happen, & expressing all that cant be said through sensual sound. In the Sleeping Kings though, the release never is a scream; it whispers, makes epic gestures in huge grand sweeping melodies, and in its most emotional moments pleads for you to leave. In a sense its more powerful this way cause it never lets go, never loses control, even when its obviously lost control (in life). Specifically in fantastic songs like ‘Nearer’ where the ambient textures (the sound of the kick) and atmospherics reveal the afterworld rushing in. What do you think allowing the soft sounds to ring out represents?

SKOI: For us its completely a release. It’s never intended to be a call for help, its an embracing of that feeling, an invitation. Not all of our sounds are soft but the soft moments will lead you to the not so soft moments. Sometimes the building up to is better than the release. Like we said earlier, we like to take our time and not rush what we love to do.

CN: The songs all seem tinged with melancholy, a sense of yearning, a place of darkness. (Yet yearning, hope, and most important, beauty.) How do you think Buffalo has effected your music? As a place? Why do you think Buffalo seems to be so fertile for this style of music? (Vera, Besnyo, Sleeping Kings of Iona, etc.) Do you think Buffalos lack of sun (some parts of the year) has anything to do w/it?

SKOI: Buffalo is definitely more of a run down post-industrial town, which was intended for something grand that never came to fruition or if it did, it died long ago. It snows a lot, we love it. Its very pretty. It gets really cold here. The summers are hazy and really beautiful. All of these things are factors in this, things that we love and hate about the city. Luckily we have bands like Vera Lena, Besnyo , just to name a couple, that help to interpret musically what Buffalo is. As for a lack of sun, there is really no less sun here than any other city on the east coast.

CN: A lot of desperation, miscommunication, and music having the power to redeem, transcend, heal, & mend: ‘Organs song’ is just immaculate. The music, mourning yet hopeful, infusing the words with wistful nostalgic yearning for a future that will not come, utterances heard in silence, the lyrics frozen moments, the perfect accompaniment to the question: why cant you go, so I can move on... In ‘Organs Song’ the speaker keeps changing, the vocal taking on shifting perspectives of what I presume is one situation, and different ways of seeing it: do you think shifting the perspective sheds more light on the situations multi-faced truths?

SKOI: Shifting the perspective always offers multiple views of whats going on. Clearly it sheds more light. Unfortunately, Molly is not here to answer for herself.

CN: Live (and Im assuming on record) all four of you change instruments constantly. Do you think this helps keep egos in check (because everyone gets a chance in the spotlight)? Also, who writes what songs?

SKOI: We play as a group instead of as individuals. We either write on the spot or someone has an idea that influences the next to the next.

CN: You say in ‘Pheromone’, ‘I shudder to think, oh...yes, those were the days’, and in ‘Hibernian’ you say ‘badaladadada, youve never been so sure’, -almost mocking, yeah right-esque, self-deprecating and ironic but full of sadness as well. You do justice to the complicated nature of feelings, the bitterness & genuine mournfulness all wrapped up in one. Do you think theres a genuineness in sarcasm (or truths)?

SKOI: Yes, absolutely. There is always some sort of truth behind every joke or bit of sarcasm, though we don’t purposely include that sense of sarcasm. A lot of our lyrics are stream of consciousness and just sort of happen immediately. Perhaps it’s how we express those feelings of being betrayed, and we just arent fully aware of it.

CN: Like many great artists, the kings are shrouded in mystery (enigmatic). You dont say who plays what on the album, nor do you have a bio...why the mystery? Can you tell us a bit about the history of the kings, how you came together, where did the name Sleeping Kings of Iona come from, etc.

SKOI: The mystery isn’t intentional. We just aren’t really that interested in the specifics, to be honest. We’ve just been friends for a while, before the band actually started. The name refers to a bunch of dead rich guys buried on an isle off the coast of Scotland. It’s really no reference to us at all.

CN: The transformation of desperation and sadness into beauty (so filling the empty spaces) is one of the greatest things music is capable of (Keats truth is beauty, beauty is truth), & Sleeping Kings seem to personify this transformation and emotional resonance. Albums and bands that accomplish this (affect us in this powerful a way) save us in some sense, not literally, but definitely emotionally, especially at certain periods of our lives when we really need them. (Makes life worth living.)...What music or albums have held particular emotional relevance to you and, possibly saved you, at certain times in your life?

SKOI: Whenever we really, really want to have a good time, we put on some Neneh Cherry or some New Order.

CN: Most bands run into ego problems: why & how do you think sleeping kings have avoided this pitfall? Do you think changing instruments so often helps keep egos in check (i.e. everyone gets a chance in the spotlight)? Also, what do you think are the pros and cons to this type of set-up?

SKOI: We’re not the kind of people to really want to be in the spotlight. We play with the lights off. No solos.

CN: I think another great facet of the kings is how often you interact (infuse) live percussion with electronic beats. Who writes the beats and why do some songs call for electronic beats solely, some live percussion over electronic beats, and some just live drums? Also, who is the percussionist who plays along with you on much of the album?

SKOI: Sometimes you wanna dance. Sometimes you wanna fuck. Sometimes you wanna fuckin dance. Our friend Mark Nosowicz plays most but not all live percussion on the record.

CN: Your songs build in really interesting ways, often just one part repeated throughout the whole song (one beat), falling verses, descending, suspended time (frozen) through repeated melodies (pedal points) over shifting chords, choruses just extensions of verses, repetition and layering, parts changing without changing, gradually rising, celestial, up to the heavens. Sonicly dramatic tension rises, and in the building and dropping away of instruments, a journey forms that finally climaxes in the crests of the waves of your songs (sounds) crashing down, finally dropping out, and disappearing...what are your feelings towards the power of repetition & simplicity? (And dynamics.) Can you think of any role models from the past as far as sleeping kings archetypes?

SKOI: We feel that there is something classic and full of integrity about the simplicity and repetition in our music. It’s terribly unfortunate that there are so many groups that overdo and spoil all the moments in their music. You mentioned Joy Division earlier, they were very good at simplicity and repetition. They were good at that.

CN: The album truly sounds like four people interacting, rather than a studio project (& having seen you live a few times, I know this is what you sound like): How do you view live music versus recorded? Do you think about the live presentation first, or do you figure out how youre going to perform the song live once the song is already recorded? (Do you all write together?) And finally, was the album recorded live?

SKOI: We write songs with live presentation in mind. We salt and pepper them in the studio when recording. We are a live band and not a studio project. However, the album was not recorded live.

CN: There’s an air of royalty to some the tracks: Im thinking specifically of ‘Pheromone,’ Seventeen, and ‘Kildeer,’ where the epic quality of these moments become monumental, filled with meaning due to these really huge, grand, sweeping melodies reaching for the heavens: its almost like stating something, and by repeating the phrase it grows bigger and bigger (grander and grander), becomes more confident, and finally bursts, transforming into some huge majestic cosmic gesture. Do you think mounting tension and its subsequent release makes a gesture more meaningful than it actually is (and in mounting the tension, actually creates the meaning)?

SKOI: We could blow our proverbial load earlier, sometimes it works like that. Sometimes we like to go for a long time, still with that load on the way.

CN: ‘Hibernian’ has an evil undercurrent, bubbling beneath the surface. There seems to be all this pent up emotion, almost resentment, about to explode (which does explode in Seventeen): ‘Hibernian’ reminds me of butterfly wings slowly swooshing in & out (in slow motion), hesitant, but its in that moment of hesitation where the real sensualness exists (sensuality): why do you think holding back can often times be more sensual than letting go (or letting loose)?

CN: ‘Pheromone’ is the hit (to me, anyway), and was the song I first walked in on The Kings (coming to the Cake-Shop to see Dedelectric, from The Grassroots [a bar on St. Marx (i.e. headquarters)], and, walking in on that song, kind of a revelation): When I was going through a break-up that song just killed me, the ultimate line venomously whipped: ‘I swear I’d kill you, I swear I would kill you, yes I swear I would’: I mean, what better use for art is there? (Than giving vent to these murderous feelings, being able to catharsize such emotions.) Then you go on to sing in the outro, ‘I never thought that you would betray me, I never thought that you would betray me oh I never thought’ and the mood moon music turns celebratory, the sad chant in turn becoming celebratory. This is the transformation of pain into beauty I spoke of earlier. Do you feel the pain that leads to this type of emotional outlet (and breakthrough) and subsequent beauty (i.e. powerful song) couldn’t come out of joy, and that the pain is somehow worth going through (justified) when you get a song this phenomenal out of it?

SKOI: Again we can’t speak for Molly if its based on specifics or not but ‘Pheromone’ is a breakup song and is an intentional pop song, as well. Molly may actually be out there killing people if she wasn’t in this band. Breakups can make you a killer or cause you to write a hit.

CN: ‘Seventeen’ is everything music should be. It perfectly captures that sparkling uncertainty that disorients and comforts simultaneously. Like the world is exploding and everything's going to be just fine. Totally Molly waving to Ducky at the end of Pretty In Pink. That good. It’s heavy and wonderful, and perfectly evokes that feeling of nostalgia and end of the movie moment where everything comes together in going to be alright, despite life. (Yet that minor key awareness of death, or the end of things, I think captured in the melody, such a strong melody that everything circles around in this song.)Why didn’t you put vocals on this song? It doesn’t need them, of course (the strength of the instrumental melodies are fantastic) but, since all of your other songs do have vocals over them, why not this one, which ultimately / arguably could’ve been your biggest hit [but also could’ve screwed up the song]).

SKOI: ‘Seventeen’ is an instrumental and we simply felt as though it was meant to stay that way. It has this feeling of being that age with the uncertainty of not knowing whats going on. We felt that by leaving it an instrumental we achieved what we had intended to.

CN: ‘Kildeer’ is just epic, the synth line like a plaintiff cry: I love how you hold the tension to the bursting point in the song, not singing over the chorus until the third time it comes around, so that when you do sing over it, the explosion is ten times as powerful because youve built up to it. Still, why resist the urge to go pop & have this very catchy chorus come around more than once? (Dont get me wrong, I understand this urge, ~I often succumb to it myself and think it all the more special cause it only comes around once, but realize the commercial suicide inherent in such moves.)

SKOI: We already did that with ‘Pheromone.’ The way we wrote it and the way that Molly sang it the first time, we thought it was cool.

CN: What is the significance of the oriental architecture on the cover of the album?

SKOI: We liked the design. Our friend Yukiko took the pictures and we thought they were beautiful. We found a love in the streets because it was not ours, it’s foreign. The landscape, that is.

CN: The male vocals versus female vocals is one of the more interesting facets of sleeping kings, most often because the female seem untamed (emotional), while the male are held back (reserved, hushed, quiet): the contradiction leading to the chemistry b/w them (opposite sides of the coin [Tao]). Most bands would go with one or the other: why go with both, and what do you think are the advantages to such a decision?

SKOI: It’s good to have different styles, different points of view. They aren’t intentional but it is the Tao. It’s creating the feeling of having more than one point of view. We can write simplistic music and at the same time have that complicated aspect of dual vocals, male and female.

CN: Thank you*

To find out more about the Sleeping Kings or purchase their music please visit:
http://sleepingkingsofiona.com

Golden: An Interview with Reflectiostack* - by Ben Malkin

Cock-Now: Under your influences you put at the end "...and all those little moments that save our lives...." Do you ever see music as a way of giving eternal life (or celebration) to those moments, kind of like ancestral worship only in this case for moments and the living (instead of the dead, but also the dead)...almost like abstract photographs (snapshots of time)?

Reflectiostack: Music is definitely about celebrating little moments that normally would go unremembered. It's about capturing the vulnerability, the joy, the sadness of that part of your life you can't see, or even understand. We are constantly moving in circles in our lives, repeating patterns and painful mistakes. When we grow, and the circle turns into an upward spiral, we have cause for celebration.

CN: ‘Golden’ is definitely my song of the year (~even though I guess it came out last year): it’s just as magnificent a song as has ever been written... ‘Mist of life it coils around your tender soul’ is such a brilliant line. My question is, why is the soul inherently tender? Why a lamb and not a lion? Or has it been humbled by the world?

R: In tenderness, the soul becomes both lamb and lion. It is an emotion that recognizes our inherent need for others, and demands a certain amount of vulnerability. Ironically, then, tenderness requires incredible strength to move beyond the safety of our solitary selves.

CN: I always wanted to hear the Dirty 3 w/vocals, and you guys achieve what I’d been hearing in my head (~more than with Nick Cave or Chan Marshall or their other collaborators) more successfully than the Dirty 3! I know when I saw the Dirty 3 live for the first time it was a life changing experience. (~I’ve seen them seven times since.) I can hear the heavy (or dirgy as your site says) influence of Warren Ellis on Fiona’s violin lines, especially ‘Whatever You Love, You Are’, ‘Horse Stories,’ and ‘Ocean Songs.’Can you talk for a bit about what the Dirty 3 has meant to you and how they’ve influenced your music? Who are some other violinists who have influenced your playing? (~I also hear The Rachels ‘Music for Egon Schiele’ quite a bit in there.)

R: Sometimes influence runs so deep you cease to be able to excavate it The Dirty Three open a dialogue between melody and dissonance, between architectural layering and minimalism, between tension and release, between structure and spontaneity, which has articulated many musical possibilities for us, particularly in terms of incorporating the violin as a crucial voice in that dialogue. There is a Hungarian violinist named Felix Lajko who continues to push the limits of the instrument through his explorations of folk and gypsy music. Interestingly, the Dirty Three cover a Felix Lajko song (the Zither Player) on Cinder.

CN: ‘Silence is all I can say to you when there are to many things floating around this head of mine’ is such a great line. And then the violin (in "5 Foot Bridges") just comes in at the perfect moment to express what the words can’t (~but what you allude to later, ‘fire rushing in into your eyes’). What do you think music is capable of expressing emotionally that words fail to?

R: There is something definitive about words. Music takes words to another level. It adds a meaning through emotion and dynamics; a truth that is timeless.

CN: Q: ‘What is reality when dreams they float away from you?’

R: When hope and dreams escape life, reality becomes indifferent, an invisible cog in that destructive wheel of nothingness. To capture your dreams is to carve on the rock of life that you existed, that you could see above the trees.

CN: There seems to be this ongoing dialogue in your songs about the relationships b/w reality and dreams or illusions. In the song "Who is Yuri Popovich?" (Ed. Note: which also, re: the violin, is the most ‘Venus In Furs’ song I’ve heard by a modern band since The Stooges ‘We Will Fall’ [which was also John Cale].) you say:

"Sleep tight for these dreams, they are what's real"
and later in the song "When I run away I'm real, when I run away I'm real"

Philip K. Dick says something like ‘reality is what’s left when you stop believing in it.’ Do you think music has the power to transform reality (like casting spells)?

R: Yes. Music is a reflection of our unconscious thoughts. And that's what makes it so important. *** Music has always had the power to express hopes and fears that have not yet been acknowledged. If you look at changing musical styles, from blues, to jazz, to rock, to punk, to rap, those shifts not only express the changes and disruptions of the times, but actually shape the way that people understand their present, their reality.

CN: I love how you straddle the moment of having to confront reality, while wanting to live in illusion. Do you think music is just a series of translucent illusions, worlds of illuminations we create to escape from reality? Or can it be used to discover a deeper reality?

R: Yes and Yes. Music definitely helps us to escape into different dimensions. It allows us to simplify to the point of understanding the complexities of our surroundings.

CN: What does Reflectiostack live look like?

R: The core of Reflectiostack has always been the interaction between guitar, violin, and voice. In a live setting, this remains the core, whether we add other dimensions or not. We have played with drums, bass, trumpet, and piano on and off over the years, but always tend to return to the core. Currently, many of the songs are being performed to pre-programmed drum tracks or loops, which add a rhythmic element and a depth to the sound. Fiona layers her violin parts through a looping pedal over Kirstys electric guitar and vocals. Experimenting with loops and delays expands the potential of the music, and allows us to achieve an often surprising range of dynamics with just the two of us.

CN: How much you can do with something simple (three chords and a dream), how many places you can take & transform (through slight [minimalistic] changes) repetition (something simple) seem to be a prevalent feature (hold a prominent place) on "Music For Torching." Not unlike the The Velvet Underground, The Dirty 3, Tony Conrad (or LaMonte Young) or Neu, just how far you can take one thing [like Stereolabs ‘Jenny Ondine’, or Suicide, Spacemen 3])(or jazz, like John Coltrane’s ‘Spiritual’ from ‘Live From The Village Vanguard): how do you view the power of repetition and it’s place in Reflectiostack’s aesthetic?

R: Minimalism pushes repetition and simplicity to the limits of its aesthetic utility where the danger is redundancy. But there is much to be taken from those kinds of explorations. Repetition is a way to meditate on a musical theme; a way to play with structural elements through building up and stripping away; an extended contemplation of a possibility; an attempt to capture a moment that may otherwise go unnoticed. For us, the repetition is a way forward, though. It must be purposive and express a movement. The patterns are always shifting, and there is rarely a sense of return.

CN: You say in the song "Comfortable State of Perfection": ‘What personality will I put on tonight,’ and the emotions that lay in the lyrics (‘I’m listening to the wrong part of myself again and again and again and again’) come apart in the noise cascades (breakdown), the ‘comfortable state of perfection’ shattering apart. There’s a constant questioning and answering in the music (often times the violin and vocal interweaving and having a dialogue within the context of the song): How does the songwriting process work in Reflectiostack?

R: The songwriting process works something like this: Kirsty writes the bare bones of a song: the guitar part and vocals and a structure. Then Fiona adds her violin parts, and then drum loops if needed, and the we rework the structure and nuances of the songs as the layers build.

CN: There’s a darkness, an eeriness or creepiness, in the music (especially the violin, but the vocals as well, sweet and cutting your throat) ...where do you think this comes from?

R: Life is hard. It's better to accept that fact than to ignore it. Sometimes we can only see the light after the darkness. It's all about hope. Life is great because its all that weve got

CN: Your sense of dynamics and space is so tasteful, the breakdown in "8 Months" (at 2 minutes and 30 seconds) where you sing ‘frozen like my love for you’ is just immaculate stunning transcendent: Where does this sense of dynamics, orchestration, and arrangement come from? Do you have any conservatory training? Are you self-taught? (Somewhere in between?)

R: Kirsty is self-taught. Fiona is classically trained. We have always been interested in playing with sonic density and space within the framework of unconventional structures. In making this record, we focused on bringing the most out of each song, which often meant experimenting with the arrangements in unexpected ways. We were very conscious of creating space. When youre recording, it is so easy to add things in, but much harder to take things away. Most of the time we thought, what would happen if we did this?, and tried it. Dale Morningstar became integral to this process, understanding implicitly what we were trying to accomplish.

CN: ‘Reconnect, oh my broken song’: The album has such a great flow to it, it really takes you on a journey (~it’s not just a collection of songs, ~it’s an album). Did this just fall into place, or did you very consciously try and make it a journey from one place to another, building, bursting, then gradually dissolving away? (And on that note, what are some of your favorite albums of all time?)

R: The order of a record is so important. We tried many different orders. We would burn CDs with the different orders and listen to them for a while, trying to find an order where all the tracks sounded their best, where nothing was buried. It was interesting to hear how a song would change depending on where it was placed in the order and in relation to the other songs. When we finally hit upon this order, which seems so obvious now, we just knew that it was right. As Radiohead sings, Everything in its right place.

So Favourite Albums? (This list could go on for pages, but since were talking about album orders, here are some that got it right)

Fionas: Bob Dylan, Bringing it All Back Home Tom Waits, Closing Time Dirty Three, Whatever You Love You Are Neil Young, Tonights the Night Miles Davis, In a Silent Way Will Oldham, Joya

Kirstys: Slint, Spiderland PJ Harvey, Rid of Me Radiohead, OK Computer Sonic Youth, Daydream Nation Pixies, Doolittle Jeff Buckley, Grace

CN: ‘This golden reality’ is such a great concept (Ed. Note: I love how the violins in this song conjure memory, as if the hesitation in their quavers were a symbol of memory itself): What does the line ‘this is unreality for the masses shade all colors into one’ mean to you?

R: "Unreality for the masses, shade all colours into one." can mean so many things, it's all about perspective; Watching the world care about meaningless things, a fear masked by consumption, a homogenized society that's forgotten how to think.

CN: You say in your bio "Reflectiostack can be placed in an on-going dialogue between folk, post-rock, and electronica...". I see the folk and post-rock, but the electronica (cause the loops I guess are so tastefully disguised) is harder to find. The electronic beats and loops (or whatever you’re doing) fuse so seamlessly with the violin & the guitar, ~ I’ve never seen a band pull it off with such grace. What on the album is electronica? The drums are so amazing on "Golden", is this a loop or live drums (or live drums over beats)?

R: There are pre-programmed beats on more than half of the tracks, which are the same beats that we play to in a live setting. The beats are designed to be organic, adding texture and dynamics, and accentuating existing rhythms. For the recording, we got Blake Howard to play drums on every song. Blake is an amazing drummer, and very intuitive (showcased beautifully on San Diego Serenade). He was able to play over top of the tracks in a way that helped draw a lot of things together, and offered an added dimension to the songs. The result was that it is often difficult to tell the live drums from the electronica. Sometimes both are there, and sometimes it is one or the other, depending on how we mixed the song (see question ..12).

CN: How did the two of you meet? What is the history of Reflectiostack?

R: Our history is boring, wed rather not talk about it. Lets all just live in the present.

CN: Who sings the harmonies?

R: Its all harmony. (if youre referring to the vocals on the record: bit of Kirsty, bit of Fiona, and our friends Scott, and Don)

CN: Is First Flight Records your own label?

R: No. Its a label based out of St.Louis. (www.firstflightrecordlabel.com)They have a great roster of bands and were pretty excited to be a part of it.

CN: ‘Fade a blow to your inner reality’: What else do you do besides music?

R: Kirsty: mom of a toddler, office manager Fiona: PHD student in Cultural Studies

CN: ‘Melted into your love,’ like the lovechild of Nico and Billie Holiday and the Dirty 3, the lyrics seem lost b/w yearning, melancholy, & eternal optimism: is this conscious or does it just come out that way?

R: Nope. It just comes out this way. I know myself better after I see what I create. Thank goodness for music. I feel less lost because of it.

CN: "New York", the last track on the album, recalls the nervous tension of some of The Rachels Music for Egon Schiele, and, perfectly recalls the feeling of life closing in, becoming more and more claustrophobic and uncertain, faster and faster, the building, the cascading, kind of like a landslide. Where did this song come from?

R: The song is maybe a culmination of everything that weve been talking about vulnerability/strength, reality/dreams, the aesthetics of repetition, dynamics/orchestration. With the exception of the minimal guitar and vocals, sparse drums, and solitary double bass run at the end, the whole song is one violin track built on top of an original loop. The violin adds new parts until the original loop decays, so that the piece is constantly in transition. Creation, destruction, and change: these things are fundamental to music and to life.

CN: What’s your favorite movie with Tom Waits in it?

R: Coffee & Cigarettes

CN: Thank you*
For more info on Reflectiostack or to order music please visit: http://reflectiostack.com

Bleep Tunes: An interview w/Bleep* - by Ben Malkin

CN: You say in one of your blogs, "We are a highly political band. That's what we write about and that's what we're passionate about. We can't write love songs because they'd be fake and not very sincere." How do you think the personal and political interface, and why do you use your music as a platform to express such beliefs, rather than as something entirely separate from political life and a universe unto itself (~say, the Cocteau Twins for instance (Rimbaud’s concept of self-enclosed universes ("Illuminations") unto themselves [or the Abstract Expressionists, rather than the Situationist International])?

Igor: No, art is a self-enclosed universe isolated from its surroundings. Its political impact may vary, but any powerful idea can be used for political ends. I mean, wasn’t the Abstract Expressionist movement financed by the CIA? Bleep is political simply because we believe that politics affects our every day lives. And we do care about how we live. For us, music as an art form is a vehicle for expression – both subconscious or emotional as well as political. There need not be a distinction between the results of a work of art as purely emotional as opposed to rational, aesthetic as opposed to applied. Music provides all of those things to us.

CN: You then go on to say "So, what about mathematics? Well, remember your high-school calculus and the graph of the log function? It comes very close the y-axis (x = 0) but never actually touches it. Same with socialist anarchy - it's an ideal we can aspire to and work towards, but I don't think we'll ever reach it. Which might be a good thing" What do you think a world in which socialist anarchy was the law of the land would look like?

Igor: I should have deleted that blog entry! I was bored and ranting. To answer your question, I’ll have to say that I don’t know. The anarcho-socialist experiment has been tried on a larger scale in the recent history, but hasn’t been allowed to develop. As with any experiment, you start with the initial set of ideas or premises (e.g. maximizing individual freedom within the framework of co-operative communities), then wait and observe. I don’t know what it would look like, but sure hope to experience it before I die.

CN: (Side-note: A math teacher friend of mine was perplexed at this statement of yours, because she seemed to remember it as the isotopes at y is equal to zero. To have none of this make sense to me, I found it perplexingly blissful to watch the two of you interact in relation to a problem that means nothing to me.)

Igor: I’m not a mathematician, so your friend probably knows more about it than I do. But, at the highschool level, the log function goes to negative infinity at x = 0 (however at x=1, y = 0) and the line of the graph never really touches the Y-axis. I just used this as a graphic example of a behaviour when something approaches something else but never really reaches it – maybe not the best example

CN: You also say, "Sadly, despite being a huge electronic music fan, it has never had that kind of emotional power on me.", citing Joy Division, Cocteau Twins, Sonic Youth, and Autumn Thieves as bands that did have a huge impact on you. I’ve often felt this way as well, finding myself working within the electronic music medium, but very few electronic albums have had a big emotional impact on me. (~Maybe two non-vocal, Aphex Twin’s ‘Selected Ambient Works Volume One’ and The Orb’s ‘’Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld’[which does have vocal samples] )

[ed. Note: vocal electronic albums are a different story altogether, Tricky’s ‘Maxinquaye,’ Massive Attack’s ‘Blue Lines,’ Portishead’s ‘Dummy,’ and tons of hip hop [mostly Outkast’s ‘Stankonia’, Jay-Z, Missy Elliot, KRS-1, Dr. Dre, and Wu-Tang Clan all being (in my opinion) among the best electronic music artists.))

Why do you think this (lack of emotional impact in electronic music) is (exists)? Do you think the difference is the human vocal touch, and do you think of Bleep more in terms of the bands you mentioned above because of Robyns vocals?

Robyn: My personal preference is towards electronic bands with human voice, but I wouldn’t say that emotion is lacking in every instrumental electronic track I’ve ever heard. It just seems to me that there is a school of thought, which believes that a person is a musician just because he or she has learned to manipulate a music program well enough. That makes him/her a technician, at most. Simply because you have a great pair of ballet shoes doesn’t make you a ballerina.

Igor: I suppose I was referring to the egghead-laptop combos so prominent in the IDM… Music is a form of communication (emotions, meanings, ideas) and garbage or nonsense can be communicated in any genre, not just electronic music. The problem is lack of experience – if you spend all of your time sat in your bedroom tweaking that synth, you’ll have nothing to "say". Speaking of the voice, it is the most intimate and direct instrument we have and it is perfect for communicating emotions (amongst other things). But, as Robyn said, instrumental music can be extremely powerful and emotionally impactful.

CN: Your music (to me) comes across as very uplifting, very feel good (~despite one of the sites where you sell your music describing your songs as pessimistic), especially songs such as "Coil" and "SIF", ~there’s a real sense of hope, the moment in the Olympics of the winner passing the finish line (or the special olympics, the wheel chairs and rush of hugs). The vocals are so confident and self-assured, that sense of everything’s going to be alright as the music takes you higher. In art you can reach ideals in sound in a sense, express and translate hope into music ("euphoria") so, referring back to question two where you said (re: socialist anarchy) "- it's an ideal we can aspire to and work towards, but I don't think we'll ever reach it," why do you think these places that we can reach (or achieve) in art are impossible to discover (or create) in reality?

Igor: I don’t think we can achieve perfection in art, especially not in music and sound reproduction. Physics of sound is extremely complex and thanks to psycho-acoustics, no two people hear the same piece of music in the same way. It’s all very personal and perfection looses meaning. But, we can work towards some "perfect ideal" in art and in society. The question is what that ideal is and how to achieve it.

CN: Do you think the creators of the sound worlds being able to control the elements and variables involved and force them to work (in violent, harmonious, physical ways [exerting mind force]) together is a model that can’t be transferred to the real world because no one has that much control over everyone else? [~even world leaders don’t have that much control. Does God? Does God exist? ]

Robyn: Please, let’s keep religion out of this. This question reminds me of the time when civil engineers designed roads using water around obstacles to see which way it flowed best, modelling the behaviour of traffic. What on earth made them suppose that commuters would behave like water?

CN: I once read a piece that Dennis Cooper (~the author of ‘Closer,’ ‘Guide,’ ‘God Jr.’, etc.) wrote that said when he was staying in Amsterdam it was absolutely boring because there was no struggle or strife, and he realized that the struggle and the fight in America was a major contribution to what made its art great (~think jazz or the blues coming out of complete adversity, or the Beats, or ten million other movements). In the song "Coil" Robyn sings "Is it hopeless to dream for a world more mature," which of course ideally I agree with, however it always strikes me that such a world might be boring (if everyone was politically correct). I’m a vegetarian, and some of my best friends talk about their meat eating heaven in front of me (KFC and buckets of rheingold [as Ellis says, the only thing that could make it better was if they were in Tahiti during the summer]) but, perhaps it’s these differences that make us interesting, that lead to such powerful art because opposites attract and it’s in contradiction (from protons, neutrons and electrons, to yin and yang) that we spin (and are inspired). So if such an ideal (a mature world) were achieved (like your socialist anarchy principle), do you think our art would be as powerful?

Robyn: "Coils" is about the damage that oil use is doing to the world. In my line "is it hopeless to dream for a world more mature" you could replace the word "mature" with the phrase "more likely to take responsibility for itself". I’m asking if it’s hopeless to dream of a world where people care about sustainability. Responsibility (i.e. a form of maturity) usually demands a certain amount of struggle and sacrifice, something I’m not sure this society is willing to take. No one wants to struggle or take risks, and so many things suffer, including art, which becomes bland.

Igor: I absolutely agree with you, Ben. You need struggle to create powerful art. That’s why most of the art produced in some societies (our own country, Canada is a good example) is a bit bland and inconsequential (we’re just too comfortable up here). However, we will never achieve a perfect society. There will always be struggle and coercion. If nothing else, there will always be heartbreak. I’m not worried about the human creative potential. What I’m worried about is how to finally unleash it.

CN: When you say ‘make sure there’s enough room in my mouth for both of my feet’ what are you talking about?

Robyn: The expression normally goes something like "damn, I put my foot in my mouth when I asked the Pope if he was catholic", etc. I’m just using it (slightly modified in magnitude) to say "I might be wrong but here’s my opinion…"

CN: How do you think someone from a hundred years ago would percieve your music? Do you see electronic music as any more or less futuristic than other genres around today?

Robyn: One hundred years ago we’d probably have been burned as witches. Seriously, I think it’s sad that art and culture have less of an impact on society now than it appeared to have one hundred years ago. Art Nouveau and Art Deco are still big influences today. I don’t see any radical thinking of that type being expressed at the turn of this century.

Igor: As for electronic music being more or less futuristic – we don’t believe that it is either. It’s simply another genre, a medium for expression. Perhaps the label ‘electronic’ gives people the wrong impression.

CN: Recently your songs have taken on a more organic tone (~I’m thinking specifically of the two you posted recently, ‘Flika’ and "Mittleschmertz", where more ‘real’ instruments are used, and where the tone in general of the pieces appears to be more evil, darker than your previous album [at least to me], almost tribal alien march to war [or eastern european]): why the change? Does this reflect a larger change in the Bleep aesthetic?

Igor: our new tracks are more evil and darker? Absolutely! We have become cynical old cunts!

Robyn: If there is a change, it’s not a part of some "grand plan". We just experiment each time we write a new track and you’re hearing the results. We’re currently experimenting more with improvisation and spontaneity.

CN: "Flicka" in particular seems to be the apophysis of all the promise inherent in Bleep to begin with, but at the same time such a light year leap from your previous work in the sense of sounding more raw. Space traveling (building, building) from sparcity to full on wall of sound crash over me (the phenomenal explosions all the more powerful from being built up to), also more in line with what you said were your earlier influences (Joy Division, Cocteau Twins, etc.): Insane, and joyful catharsis (release) because of it [i.e. really noisy]: where the hell did this song come from?

Robyn: Quick answer: Romania!

Igor: Our friend, Felix Petrescu from the Romanian electronic duo Makunouchi Bento, sent us a bunch of jazzy loops and asked us to make something out of them. At that time, we had just come back from New York where we were visiting Andy from the former Autumn Thieves. I guess we were under the influence of his ideas. Also, I wanted to record a song that sounded more like a jam session than a programmed electronic piece.

CN: Can you talk about your backgrounds? You’re both not from Toronto, right? And can you talk about the name of your label (TeknoStan Records) in connection (conjunction) with this? Is this your own label? Also, can you give us a bit of the history of Bleep? How did the two of you come together? Do you feel being multi-lingual effects your lyrics at all?

Igor: We both live in Toronto now, but are originally from Europe – Robyn is from the UK and I am from the former Yugoslavia. We met in Toronto in 2001 through a vocalist wanted ad. TeknoStan Records (TeknoStan meaning "the land of Techno") is our own label, thrown together quickly because we won the pressing of our first album IMM 0008 through an Internet competition called The Next Level (organized by Umbrella Music). Right now the label exists for us alone – we’d always hoped to expand to include others, but there’s no money in this business.

Robyn: Being exposed to different languages has manipulated the way I hear potential lyrics, which in turn allows me to experiment with made-up words. And being fluent in Sign Language helps me remember my lyrics on stage!

CN: The beats drop in and out all over Bleep’s songs, ~why do you think this giving the song room to breathe is so important, and what does this lend to the emotional impact of when the beat does finally drop?

Igor: I suppose I’m afraid of sounding boring. Dynamic changes in music are as important as harmonies, beats or lyrics are. Beats enable us to achieve these changes effectively thus supporting the overall emotional flow of the song.

Robyn: I think the beats build and release tension.

CN: The drums & percussion have a very world kind of vibe, off-kilter, off the beat feel, yet, perfectly in time (due to the electronic nature of the music): do you see people off-kilter dancing to your music live and do you perceive this as awkward people feeling comfortable in their skin at last?

Igor: No, we don’t see people dancing to our music at live shows. This is perfectly fine since we don’t make "dance" music really. There are many other ways to enjoy music rather than dancing to it.

Robyn: I have deaf friends who feel the sound vibrations and appear to enjoy them. It’s not really our job to make people comfortable in their skins – I’m no psychiatrist.

Igor: I actually hope that people feel uncomfortable when they watch our performances. Maybe that will make them think rather than expect cheap, easily digestible entertainment.

CN: What effect do you think all the blip bleep noises in the background do to subvert the feel goodness of the chords?

Igor: We hope they don’t take anything away from the feel goodness of the chords. I just think that the two styles complement each other.

CN: The song "SIF" glows a real sense of wonder at the universe, captures the feeling of the circling (the orbits rotation) of the solar system, that sense of vertigo and everything spinning around each other (the sun) simultaneously...is this sense of outer space something you consciously try to tap in to through your music, or does it just come out of you naturally? And in that same vein, do you think meaning is a human conception or inherent to the spinning of the universe, or as Robyn asks in "SIF": ‘Why does this mattter?’ (the emptiness of the beats dropping out at the end of the song answering its own question).

Robyn: You’re not going to like this answer much. It has nothing to do with the Sun or the Moon or the Stars. It’s one of the few times I’ve allowed myself to be self-absorbed. It’s just about how I feel on stage, vulnerable. The fact that SIF is a sweet-sounding concoction of voices swirling about is hopefully saying something positive about the inside of my head.

Igor: We don’t really over-analyze what we do and why we do it, so if there is a sense of "outer space" in our music, it comes naturally, probably through all the ambient records that we’ve heard (but, yes, I am an ex-astrophysicist).

CN: Your songs seem very structured in a calculated way (immaculately so). How do you think math has effected your music?

Igor: We don’t consciously think about mathematics when we write. We just follow the feel of the music and don’t worry about the lengths, time signatures, arrangements, etc. If they appear calculated, it’s not intentional.

CN: What initially drew you to electronic music (& electronic percussion)(more than say, a rock band)?

Robyn: It was the Fairlight CMI because it gave me an orchestra in a box. Also, rock bores me senseless – I find it very formulaic.

Igor: the adventure of experimentation and sound design inherent in electronic music did it for me. Also, the ability to work alone or with a partner, such as Robyn, was a big factor. I’ve been in many rock bands before and it’s just so tiresome working in a "collective". I’m a control freak and proud of it!

CN: What else do you do besides music?

Robyn: Crappy temp jobs when we need money. Otherwise independent music is a full time job – creating, performing, recording, engineering, manufacturing, marketing, distributing…oh how we’d love some help.

Igor: I enjoy long walks on the beach and preparing pan-asian dishes (I’m a yuppie in training)

CN: Do you feel like the politics of your lyrics gets through to your listeners? Do you think it changes anyone’s opinion (vehicles for change) or, is it just an expression of your beliefs?

Robyn: That’s entirely up to the listener. We have my lyrics up on the web site for people to read if they want to know more about a song. I find that if a song’s lyrics aren’t immediately obvious, it’s gratifying to me to be able to read them, sing along, and absorb myself more deeply into that song. It also gives me an insight into the way that musician’s mind works. I have no evidence that my politics have reached my listeners, no one but journalists ever comment on it. I can only hope I can help get rid of the general apathy I see towards politics.

Igor: It is our beliefs that we express through Robyn’s lyrics. If that changes anyone’s opinion, then good!

CN: The video for ‘Over’ is just phenomenally tripped and gorgeous and, fast effects without giving you that ‘I’m having a seizure feeling’, ~who made the videos? Do you see sound as color (and places) when you’re making the songs, and make the videos to fit your initial vision of abstract visuals, or do the visuals come later?

Igor: The video for Over was made by Mark Zarich (our first guitarist) who provided background animations, Damir Olejar on computerized effects and myself on everything else.

Robyn: We create visuals to compliment our live performances. When we’re compiling the visuals, the music dictates the colour, density and speed of movement.

CN: Did you read ‘No Logo’ and, if so, did it effect you in any way?

Igor: No, we haven’t read it.

Robyn: It looks like a good read although it took me 2 weeks to recover from watching The Corporation so I’m not sure I’m up for a depresso-fest just yet.

For more info on Bleep or to buy their music please visit: http://bleeptunes.com

So L'il Self- Interview

music is just the gates
for keeping all we have today




http://solil.net/

Loveless Music Group Feature - by Ben Malkin

Loveless Music Group brought all these people together. That can’t be overstated or underestimated: how important that was to so many peoples lives. Courtney, Andy, & Mike (Mike with a Myspace page, it all started with a Myspace page) began putting on nights at Scenic (on Ave. B) called ‘To Here Knows When’. Anyone who knew, who saw a night called ‘To Here Knows When’, knew someone else knew. Finally(!), someone had brought together all the children of My Bloody Valentine, like discovering a family you didn’t know you had, finally the children had come home.

Children as diverse as Apollo Heights, Ifwhen, Autumn Thieves, Aydin, So L’il, Soundpool, Her Vanished Grace, Dedelectric, Elika, Zelda Pinwheel, Panda Riot, The Offering, Bleep, Sleeping Kings of Iona, Diagram, Besnyo, and on, and on, and on…

Strangers became friends through the connection of Loveless.

Children of Loveless played in the playground of Loveless Music Group nights, creating Loveless universes where you couldn’t believe what you were seeing: such unbelievable music, prism blissed mystic kissed bands playing such small clubs, ~how could other people not know about this? And yet it was our little secret. Like you’re there at the beginning, like you can’t believe I’m living through this. Andy, Mike, & Courtney were the catalysts who threw gasoline on a small fire, and that small fire burst into a Phoenix .

It all goes back to that first ‘To Here Knows When’ night at Scenic, July 6th, 2005. (Dedelectric, Ifwhen, Autumn Thieves, & So L’il). Members of all the bands spoke to each other. It was weird. It shouldn’t have been, but it was cause, everyone had played so many shows before where bands didn’t really talk to each other. They were put together on bills at clubs on the same night solely for the purpose of get ‘em in / get ‘em out so we can get more people drunk at the bar (i.e. money, not music). The meat factory. But July 6th wasn’t the meat factory. This was community. People who felt alike, who came from the same family tree, the same sounds, & understood what each other were doing. I don’t think you realize how refreshing this was (for this sound). Simply by putting bands together who were on the same wave length, our wave length, Mike, Courtney, & Andy performed a small miracle, and for that we are eternally grateful.

http://lovelessmusicgroup.com

Panda Riot Interview - by Ben Malkin

CN: Panda Riot is Joy. And what a perfect name for a band. Tell us a bit about the birth of your name and the birth of the band?

B: Our friend was telling us one day some of the names that his band decided not to go with. He was listing all these jokey names that they would never go with; he mentioned Panda Riot and it really struck me.

R: As for the birth of the band, it started with Brian and I needing a soundtrack for this short film we made, "Dolphins and Porpoises." When we showed it, people kept talking about the music so we decided to try to do something more with it.

CN: Alright, ‘Suspense Kiss’ is like a perfect track & contains everything I love about music. I saw when you played this live you use a lot of effects on the vocals. What do you think effects on vocals are capable of saying that the human voice isn’t alone?

R: There actually aren’t any real effects on the vocals, just layers. Since we are only two people, we do a lot of looping live. I think that using loopers in a live setting allows us to combine something organic and expressive like a voice with the repetitive quality of electronic music which creates a really surreal effect.

CN: The first track on the ep, ‘Paper Airplanes,’ just kind of lays out what’s going on & kind of reminds me of the movie ‘Manequin’ for some reason (from the ‘80s, with Kim Cattrall [later of Sex in the City] and Andrew McCarthy), just that feeling of kind of laying out these secret lives straight from the get go...almost like, you can’t believe you’re getting away with it. Often I find instrumentals are so serious, and for an instrumental to convey that kind of joy is rare. Do you consciously pursue this kind of joy in sound, or does it just come naturally out of you? (Like, do you try and make yourself feel better by making this kind of ecstatic music?)

B: Paper Airplanes was actually the first song we ever made, and I think you can tell that we were just really excited about making a song. It’s the first time we experimented with all of the facets that would later make up our music. So, in a way, the structure of the song was dictated by our exploration. We didn’t have one direction to go in, so we ended up with all these parts. Basically it’s just us finding sounds we like and following them.

CN: And the joy is kind of contrasted with these almost dark lyrics (that are kind of self-depricating too, contrasting ‘hours and hours and hours and hours I walked along, but I’m still in the same place I was’ w/bapbapbada bapba choruses...): what do you think this contrast (self-deprecation and darkness vs joy and sonic bliss outs) represents? Or what are you trying to represent through this contrast?

R: The lyrics are actually written in a very unintentional, stream-of consciousness, kind of way. The contrast in the lyrics in "Plateau" was kind of a surprise to me, too. It’s just sort of what popped out. I do think, though, that in these ecstatic moments that we try to create in our songs, there is always a little bit of sadness. It’s like nostalgia or desire—it’s partly beautiful because it’s not entirely yours, you can’t quite make it fully present. It’s a sad and beautiful world.

CN: You guys seem to have some great pop instincts, which remind me a lot of the early ‘90s indie heyday (Pavement, Liz Phair, Yo La Tengo, Magnetic Fields, etc.) when we were probably all college djs: which (if any) of those early ‘90s albums albums affected Panda Riot the most?

B:…Digable Planets blowout comb, stereolab, the sea and the cake, MBV’s tremolo ep was really awesome as well.…but I really love that Shuggie Otis record from the early 70’s …its amazing like stevie wonder with primitive drum machines….

CN: Panda Riots melodies (both vocal and guitar [but really really memorable vocals]) are really strong: When you’re songwriting, what comes first? (I.e. the chord progressions, the vocal melody, the beats). How does the Panda Riot song-writing process work?

B: Usually I start with the chords and write a drum beat around that, but the sound is there from the beginning. The tone of the guitar really informs how the song takes shape; we’re not adapting a song written on an acoustic. I could never work like that. Basically after the drums and the guitar are laid down, Rebecca adds vocal melodies that later turns into words, backing vocals and keyboards… and from that we might change this section or that cause it makes us think about the song differently. We don’t jam out songs, or at least we haven’t yet, but that seems to be working ok. Sometimes I find it strange cause its like we’re both recording our parts in secret.

CN: I love that you do hand-painted covers: tell me what are your thoughts about idiosyncratic pieces of art album covers, unique & available only to that time and place? It’s d.i.y but its more special in a way cause you’re really getting a present that’s one of a kind...

R: We do it because we like to think of people who like our music as individuals who deserve presents. It’s nice to give people something unique and special, and I think it makes people value the cd more. They are also really fun to make.

CN: ‘When the ceiling has become the sky’ is just a wonderful chorus, especially combined with the keyboard line & MBV style guitars of caressing texture...what does that line mean to you?
Do you think that type of transformation (from closed to openness) kind of reflects Panda Riots turning darker stuff into joy?

R: To me, it’s not really about turning dark stuff into joy. It’s more about describing the feeling of blissful moments. The ceiling becoming the sky is like that feeling of your chest exploding because something is so beautiful you can hardly stand it. It’s not like the ceiling turning into the sky…it’s more like the ceiling exploding and BOOM there’s the sky.

B: I want to take that 8 second moment you have and stretch it out for as long as I can, like being in the moment in ultra slow-motion.

CN: Why do you think indie swirl pop keyboards sound so good through death metal pedals? What do you think it is about pedals made for death metal and sonic bliss outs that kiss so well?

R: In general, I think the abrasiveness of the distortion combined with the melodic quality of the keyboards exemplifies our aesthetic. We are also always trying to think of creative ways to make sounds that are completely unique. Rather than spend a lot of money on expensive equipment, we try to use our limitations to our advantage. This forces/allows us to come up with new ways to use what we already have.

B: Its funny, a lot of times when we play shows we’ll be doing a sound check and Rebecca will play some keyboard line with the pedal on and the sound guy just makes this face like a wire must be messed up or something…and we’re like, "no it sounds ok to us."

CN: Are you content being a duo, or is Panda Riot in its ultimate incarnation a more fleshed out band?

B: This is something we get asked a lot. It would be nice to have a bass player, maybe. It would really free us up to do more things. A drummer would be good for a song or two…but especially with the drums I think part of our sound is the fragility and the minimalism. With a drummer, I think we could easily just start sounding like a rock band. Electronic drums are more musical in the sense that one drum machine can sound a certain way and then in the chorus a new pattern and set of drum sounds are there.

CN: How do you feel Philadelphia affects your sound (or does it)? Do you think Philly is more prone to sonic bliss outs and swirl pop sing alongs?

R: Its hard to say… There are a lot of cool bands in Philly, and a number of dreamy noisy bands, but when it comes down to actually writing the songs, I don’t think we are really affected by geography.

CN: What do you feel the place of electronic beats are in your music? How important are the beats to you? What do you feel is the place of the live drummer in the 21st century? Do you feel like electronic beats live make the experience any less ‘real’, or, is it not about the beats live, but about what’s going on over the beats (leading the way)?

B: Having a real drummer would be great, but I think programming rhythms coming from a non-drumming background makes the songs take weird turns. The beats definitely influence our music…if we were to play with a real drummer, they would adapt to what we are playing. Without a "real" drummer, the beats function more as a backdrop allowing the texture--the guitars, vox and keys, to be free and expressive. We’ve recently been coming up with more break beats and jungle type rhythms as well…stuff that one drummer couldn’t play alone…we’ve got this new track that’s like that….it has like 4 drum patterns from different kits going on @ the same time.

CN: There’s a very anthemic quality to Panda Riot. What type of kids do you think are attracted to this kind of cool but not overly macho style of anthem? This kind of feminine art school appeal, ascending choruses, verses posing questions in descending melodies, while choruses populate the clouds...this lackadazical quality, like you’re just floating around...and also, what are some of your favorite sing-alongs by other artists?

R: I don’t think we really have a particular audience in mind when we write songs. It’s actually kind of weird how diverse the people are that like our music. As for the lackadaisical feeling, I guess I’m trying to express a feeling of wonderment…it’s beautiful and also dreamy and floaty.

CN: A lot of people say indie rock is about ideas: the pointing to, and those who see it, who get it, see what the bands are getting at, even if its not professionally as slick as corporate rock. Like your friends making music, and writing the best songs in the world, rather than some untouchable Led zep I could give a fuck about on high bullshit complete with hour long mega-boring solos. It’s really that idea of creating your own community. Panda Riot really embodies that to me. That ‘fuck it, we can do it!’ spirit. It’s just like all the aspects of music I love thrown into your neighbors kitchen and when they come out and hit the stage, its just this very real joyous, almost childlike way like ‘WOW! We’re playing music!’ It makes you smile. What inspired you to make music? Would you say it’s the central focus of your life or just something you do?

B: I’ve always made films, films mattered so much to me…and then I would start doing the soundtracks for them cause I didn’t really know anybody else that would be into it. Eventually, it was just like "wait a second, people really seem to be digging this music," relating to it….it was really the 1st time I considered making songs.

R: For me, it’s kind of weird because I always played tons of instruments, but I was always classically trained. So trying to write my own songs was a whole new thing for me. It was really exciting and sort of surprising when I realized that I could do it. I think our excitement definitely comes across in our songs.

CN: I was asking this of Aydin as well but, do you feel like the optimism expressed in your music has a particularly American quality to it? (Like, a lot of the British bands in this genre tend towards the mopey, whereas in Panda Riot there’s a real uplifting quality to your music that lifts the spirits instead of drowning them...[in the same way that maybe Walt Whitman or Emerson view the world (not bogged down in history [ala Europe], but with the hope of looking towards an open frontier.)

R: Although it doesn’t feel that way when we are making songs, I can see how that connection might be made from an academic standpoint. In a way, I do see that sort transcendent ecstatic moment being an ideal of American romanticism. At the same time, I don’t really see it lacking in other traditions, though. I think the desire to express the ecstatic exists everywhere.

CN: What do you do for money? How do you think this affects your music?

R: I teach piano lessons, and we do a lot of song writing and creative expression with our students. Watching them explore music for the first time is really exciting. I am always trying to open up their idea of what music is and expand their approach to the instrument. It helps to keep me open and excited as well.

CN: ‘Art school girls of doom’ is one of the best titles of a song I’ve heard. Hysterical, yet totally exemplifies the horror at the reality therein! Who are the art school girls of doom?

B: In a way I’ve always hated the whole art school thing, its like, once you’re into something like that you go in with good intentions but the whole process becomes too self –referential, it becomes about other things…its like all these guitar players who get into gear and this amp or that and the actual writing of music becomes secondary…

CN: A lot of your songs are longer than normal pop songs...they hit the five minute mark and, insofar as that, they’re more like long journeys than typical pop songs...Do you think the marine biology original documentary you wrote the soundtrack to and formed out of informed the way you write songs?

B: We come from more of a soundtrack background in a sense. You can kind of see that in the way the songs change and sections don’t repeat. I think it’s just a matter of trying to do things that excite us. It’s not good enough to just write a song that goes from verse to chorus blah blah and you know what’s coming next. We’re trying not to write something formulaic but at the same time not to go in weird directions just to shake off any emotional connection….emotional connections rock.

CN: A lot of duos have a hard time staying together: what would you say accounts for the strength of Panda Riots partnership?

R: The crazy amounts of money that we make off the band…that and the way we really relate to each other without having a "listen to me," ego thing getting in the way.

CN: What does your lyric ‘all your comedies turn to suspense’ mean to you?

R: I have to say, I have a really hard time talking about the lyrics outside of the song. A lot of times, we just go with whatever sounds right or whatever just comes out and somehow works. Brian wrote that line specifically. I think at the time we were talking about how someone can make you feel tense all the time because you never know what inappropriate or awkward thing they are going to say next, or something like that. I’m not sure I have a deeper explanation than that. I think of our lyrics as being kind of like collages of impressions. The lines have a kind of connection, but not one that is completely intentional or specific.

CN: What are the hopes and dreams of panda riot re: music? (I.e. what would you like to accomplish that you haven’t already?)

B: I mean we’re just babies…we formed back in mid July 2005. We have a handful of songs and a little demo cd that we’re really proud of….it’d be great to make some records. We want to start doing some live video projection when we play out, make it all one big thing not just people playing music with cool images, but one thing. That was actually one of the initial things we wanted to do with the band—tie everything (visuals and music) together. We didn’t factor in how broke we were though…but soon, yeah soon.

CN: Thank you.

To learn more about Panda Riot or purchase their music please visit:
http://pandariot.com

It is, after all the solar system: An Interview with Aydin*~ - by Ben Malkin

Cock-Now: In the words of my friend Dustin (or, appropriating his thoughts), Aydin sounds like the climax of most bands songs the entire song. Although this is an exaggeration, a lot of the songs on 'Space Affects the Spectator' just burst with sunshine joy the whole time and are extraordinarily feel good. The Aydin sticker is a picture of dynamite exploding, and on your myspace page you describe yourself as 'what is thought about while driving 80 mph on the highway with the windows down and the sun warming your body.' What led you to this sun worship and attraction to bursting, joyous interstellar music?

KAREN: Wow, what a question! It seems to me that in our different musical influences we share a love for the "anthemic" kind of song, whether it be classic shoegaze, punk or some other pidgeonhole. Not to say this is the only kind of songs we like, nor that all of our songs are like this, but I would say an unconscious influence we share is that type of song, and that it seems we often strive toward a growing, intense, fist-in-the-air feeling with our own songs. It isn't something we've discussed explicitly. (Some "anthemic" examples from Karen, the guys may want to add their own: Pixies - "Gigantic", Spiritualized 5 "Lay Back In the Sun", Jane's Addiction "Mountain Song")

SHANNON: I’m not sure it is sun worshiping, but it does feel really good to stand in the sunshine after weeks of gray winter skies and be reminded of the positive forces in destiny. In a way that’s what our music is to me. It’s like a tightly wound ball of energy inside that makes me want to freak out and scream at how depressing life can make me feel, but instead I’m fortunate enough to be able to hit the overdrive and blast the music forward.

MARK: I’ve always had an attraction to music with a big, shimmering wall of sound. The songs that I love, the ones that influenced me the most, are the ones that sound greater than the sum of their parts. They stop existing as an arrangement of distinct instruments and voices and become a unified burst of unique sound. There’s a lot of joy in reaching that moment, as both a listener and a musician.

CN: A lot of shoegaze music is kind of mopey, and is associated with anglophile fixations (British mopiness), but it seems to me Aydin appropriates some of the aesthetics of shoegaze into a uniquely feel good music that radiates optimism. Almost like an American optimism
(~I'm thinking like Walt Whitman, Emerson, Thoreou, that feeling of hope, of the great frontier and future [not bogged down in history, like, say Europe]): Do you guys perceive yourself as an American band and, how do you think where you grew up and where you live affect your music?

KAREN: Again, that's not an aspect we've discussed or even thought about (at least I haven't), but I would agree with your American-perspective theory. I have read and enjoyed those authors and other classic American Transcendentalists and their influence probably does seep into the music and lyrics. Plus although Pittsburgh may not be in the greatest financial health, we're certainly not all on the dole as some British bands were.

On a personal level, I think we're generally optimistic people, and our music does express more of an exploration of the world rather than reacting to it. We do have the occasional angry moment, but something interesting I've just recently realized is that none of the songs on the record have "naughty" words in the lyrics, again not because we deliberately avoided it, but I think because we tend to write about more positive subjects. Will we never write an angry, cussing song? Don't say never… but that's just not our prime motivation. The energy we have is positive.

SHANNON: I definitely think that we are an American band with deep midwestern roots. We don’t have enough drama to be a British band. I grew up six blocks away from the SunOil refinery on the East End of Toledo, Ohio and didn’t think that I would live to be 25. I think the guitar portion of the music represents the hostile environment that I grew up in and tried not to become. Sometimes it did and does get the best of me, but with music I’m able to release the anger and frustration a way or quiet the music down and be content with the beauty in my life.

MARK: I think Aydin does owe a great debt to many musicians from across the pond, not just because they’ve influenced us, but also because our music collections would be pretty sparse without them. That being said, I definitely identify more with American bands, and I think our sound resembles home-grown talent like Yo La Tengo, Galaxie 500, Sonic Youth, and the Pixies more than British shoegaze icons like My Bloody Valentine, Slowdive, or Ride. Even more so, I identify as a Pittsburgh band. Even though none of us are native to Pittsburgh, it’s really become our home. It’s a city overflowing with great music, and practically all of the bands here are filled with talented musicians and really nice people.

CN: What do you think is the appeal of outer space? How do you think music is able to reflect this?

KAREN: It's just so… big. When you start to read and think about the way the Earth works, the way the solar system spins, and the vast network of the universe, it really makes our struggles and dramas seem so insignificant. It's at once scary and comforting. One function of music is to express anger and frustration with the situations we're caught in, but another is to carry us away from all that and toward a more centered and positive frame of mind. Considering our tiny part in the vast machine can do this.

SHANNON: I think that the appeal with outer space and music is that the future is wide open and not everything is known. Space and music are not tangible, they allow me to dream, and make me feel like there is still room for hope in the world. It’s all pretty fresh and childlike.

MARK: Back in my childhood days in Toledo, my dad and I used to listen to this program on public radio called "Music from the Hearts of Space." The music was really esoteric stuff, especially for Toledo radio: anything from new age to electronica to recordings of humpback whales. While I wasn’t always into the music, the program established an early connection in my juvenile mind between ambient sounds and outer space.

CN: Why is faith born in the sun?

KAREN: (Mark and I wrote those lyrics, although he did most of them and they came from his idea… he's got a fair amount of book learnin' about theology… so I'll let him explain.)

MARK: This is a lyric from "Warm-up," which started out as a nifty little riff we used to start practices and became a power-pop song about the mythological role of the sun in early religious practices – kind of a Brian Wilson meets Joseph Campbell experiment. A culture that depends upon the sun for light, warmth, and agriculture is obviously going to assign a cosmological primacy to it – that’s why faith is born in the sun.

CN: What led you to this instrumentation? It's not your standard rock trio, but it works so wonderfully and, is definitely recognizable as rock (albeit accordion rock) Accordion is not an instrument normally associated with shoegaze but you guys really make it work. Do you run it through effects? What inspired you to go with this sound in the first place?

KAREN: Mark and Shannon were already functioning as a duo when I started playing with them, and had already created a fair amount of material. At first I wasn't sure about the instrumentation, having had no experience playing with accordion and having never heard it being used in rock except by They Might Be Giants, which although I like that band I didn't necessarily want to emulate. But as they say, if it ain't broke, don't fix it; I just tried (and still try) to add drum parts that highlight the interesting stuff going on without burying it.

SHANNON: When Mark and I first started playing together these are the instruments that we both played. It was never planned that we were going to be an accordion space rock band, it’s just that nothing has changed, except we found Karen and her drumming and personality fit right in.

MARK: I’m not a very accomplished accordionist, but I have a great affection for my instrument and an unshakeable belief in its ability to rock. I’ve tried a lot of other instruments, but I simply have the most fun playing the accordion. The first time Shannon came over to my house to jam, I pulled out the squeezebox and we’ve never looked back. With the two of us, it’s always been a really intuitive combination of styles, and when Karen came aboard, it all locked into place. That was the easy part. The hard part has been getting the proper volume. When we started playing shows, I was just playing into a microphone and no one could hear me. Now I have pickups and an amp and a variety of effects pedals, and my sound is a lot more consistent. It’s funny; for a long time I felt like I existed in a musical no-man’s land: I didn’t have anything in common with other accordionists, and while I had a lot of guitar accoutrements, I certainly wasn’t a guitarist. Then I saw this band, Those Darn Accordions, at a folk festival in Johnstown, PA. They play original songs and a variety of covers, and the music itself is not really much like ours, but they rock nonetheless. When I saw them, there were four accordionists in the band, and they were all decked out with vintage amps and tons of pedals; one of them even had a MIDI accordion and a rack of effects processors. It’s no exaggeration to say that this was a life-altering show; afterwards I felt less like an outcast and more like a guy who was in on a really cool secret.

CN: What do you think group vocals are capable of expressing that solo vocals aren't? How do you work out your vocal harmonies?

KAREN: I think the chorus-style harmonies go along with the anthemic feeling. Generally one of us comes up with a vocal part, then if we agree it needs a boost, we'll add some harmonies as they come to us. We try things out by recording to a four-track. No real theory is implemented, although I guess my main singing influence is church hymns and spirituals, and sometimes that style is apparent.

SHANNON: In our case, I think group vocals are capable of expressing a togetherness and a like-minded belief that brings us closer together. Vocals are an expression of experience or thought and with us group vocals fill more dynamics and add texture. I like the plainness of solo vocals too and the way they personalize a song.

MARK: As a band that doesn’t assign prominence to vocals, I think group vocals generally emerge as a better match for our songs. Who needs a distinct vocal lead when you can disperse many voices throughout the sonic landscape?

CN: Your music (especially tracks like 'Little Galaxy') really give me the sensation of being this tiny thing looking out onto the universe from planet earth ('to navigate the world outside', disoriented, 'makes you wonder where you are'): this childlike sense of wonder at the natural world (and how small we are, and how large it all is): its like a questioning, a wandering, a searching, a building towards. What do you think in childhood leads to the development of the psychedelic mind? (Or the minds attracted to the psychedelic mindset.)

KAREN: Well for me I guess it's from living close to the woods, and being intimately acquainted with nature early; that led to studying biology and being continually amazed at the inner workings of it all. Being able to see the world in different ways leads to an appreciation and wonder, and to seeking out more insights. Mark could tell more about this I'm sure, but I've read, and it makes perfect sense to me, that the birth of religion was in psychedelic experiences with mind-altering substances.

SHANNON: I think that being alone in childhood makes you develop ways to entertain yourself. You live in make believe and as you grow the limits of entertainment are stretched by music, movies, and books. Before you know it most of your young adult friends are the same way and you are doing drugs with them, skateboarding with them, and becoming competitive against their tricks and music collection. And it grows to who has the coolest, psychedelic experience that can be shared.

MARK: You’re definitely right, a lot of our songs are written from that perspective. Shannon, Karen, and I all share a penchant for solitude and introspection, and that’s probably something we’ve all had since childhood.

CN: Where does the inspiration for stellar meltdowns (instrumentals) like 'Half-gramme Holiday' come from? (Or 'Screenful's sense of dynamics & space creating intense sensations of aliens fondling you...)

KAREN: Whoa! Never thought of it like that… Well, as with all our songs, we don't really set out to write a particular kind of song. They just grow from little bits that each of us brings to the table. See question #11 below… But with some songs we throw in some noise to bring it to another level, almost like an overdrive or "hyperspace", like in "Half-Gramme Holiday."

SHANNON: The guitar of half-gramme holiday really came to life after it was given a name. The inspiration for me was reading ‘Brave New World’ while coming up with the melody. I love the way that the characters were expected to take drugs, a half-gramme holiday, if they began to feel blue, and one person resisted and wanted to feel emotions and share it with a woman that wanted the same. For me, ‘half-gramme holiday’ is that chaotic struggle and how you may not get what you want.

MARK: One of the things I love about this band is that our songwriting inspirations come from a great diversity of sources, from snowboarding to chaos theory to Lando Calrissian. The sky is the limit, really. By the way, every time I play "Screenful" from now on, I’ll be thinking about the alien fondling, so thanks for that.

CN: When did you realize you wanted to be in a band? Tell us a little bit about each member and their backgrounds...

KAREN: As long as I can remember! Of course that’s only one of many childhood fantasies... but I started playing drums as a band geek in high school in West Virginia - had wanted to start earlier, but the various music teachers wouldn’t let me switch from flute - and I continued taking lessons through college in Pittsburgh. After graduating I was in a few short-lived punk bands here, but then I started getting into mountain biking and working at a bike shop, and let the drumming fall by the wayside (not without regret) as I got promoted and the hours got more ridiculous. After five years of retail hell I decided to quit, and in the month before I left, Shannon, who had just started working at the shop, talked me into jamming with him and Mark. I still have a "demo" tape he gave me with some things he and Mark had recorded, including an early version of "Airbomb", on one side, and a shoegazey mix of some of the bands he was inspired by on the other. I had very briefly got into that stuff in college (mostly Lush and Curve), but had since listened to mostly post-punk and indie stuff at that point (as far as "rock" music) - Pixies, Fugazi, various Touch-n-Go and Matador bands. Oh yeah, it was Led Zeppelin in jr. high and Rush in high school that got me through. And I’m infinitely grateful to have been led back to drumming again. I don’t know what was wrong with me that I ever stopped!

SHANNON: I began skateboarding and going to punk shows in the late 80’s and loved how music pulled all the freaks together and created some strong bonds that I still have today. Hearing ‘I Wanna be Adored’ by the Stone Roses completely opened my mind to music and people, and helped me not to be ashamed of the poverty I was growing up in. I had crazy hair and my best friend was black, which led to a lot of fights while growing up in a racist part of town that had no direction. But driving 45 minutes to Detroit in the early 90’s to see Swervedriver, Slowdive, Verve, Ride, My Bloody Valentine, Jane’s Addiction, Medicine, and all the amazing tours of the time just blew me away and I knew I would never be like my neighbors, plus I was too fucked up to be around them.

MARK: I think I’ve wanted to be in a band since I first started being an avid music listener as a teenager. Playing music was always a hobby for me, and I drifted between instruments and various jamming partners until Shannon came along. We became friends almost instantly, and our common backgrounds and musical interests led naturally into a songwriting partnership. When he found Karen I couldn’t believe our good fortune. Both her musical contributions and her leadership are invaluable to the band, and on top of that she’s a lot of fun to hang out with. The three of us have been through so much together that it’s really hard to imagine us doing anything else.

CN: The drumming style is really unique (the accents falling like falling stars or comets), and on top of this you sing. Drumming & singing simultaneously is really difficult: how do you do it Karen? The way things fall apart and come back together, woozy, drunk on stars, then picking itself back up again, does the singing and drumming together difficulty lend itself to this type of woozy feel-good composition (of instrumental breakdowns collapsing, then bursting out
[into outer space] again), or, is it a conscious attempt to reflect a state of mind? (A woozy state of mind)

KAREN: Our singing parts usually come last in the songwriting process – in fact for a while we struggled to come up with lyrics and singing parts, we’d been just having fun jamming – so the drum parts come first. Singing and playing is actually not all that difficult; one learns to use all your limbs playing drums by adding them one at a time, so the voice is just like a fifth limb.
Hard to say exactly where my style comes from, but I have tried to choose my influences to an extent – the lessons I took were from jazz guys, but I’ve listened to and tried to play many styles of drumming, and have enjoyed listening to classical music as well from an early age. I strive for a balanced approach, both physically in how I play, and sonically. Shannon and/or Mark typically starts a jam and I try to listen and play what is suggested by what they’re doing. I used to lament not playing drums from toddlerhood on, but I’ve come to appreciate starting later, as I think I’ve gained a more melodic sense, plus I’ve been able to escape the kind of cookie-cutter virtuosity one often sees in drummers.

CN: 'Half-gramme holiday' is my favorite song, as if the whole orbit of our solar system were falling apart, out of gravity's pull, and yet, it all comes together, that feeling of falling while wrestling to keep it together: do tracks like this come out of improv jams or are they composed instrumentals?

KAREN: That song, like most of our songs, is made up of parts spawned from jams (see question #19). I get the same sort of feeling playing it – we go way out, then back a bit, then further out, then bring it home.

SHANNON: ‘Half-gramme holiday’ was born of a composed melody that grew to an improv jam.

MARK: I remember this song coming together pretty quickly, and the improvised portion fit very nicely into our intended structure for the song. It’s one of my favorite songs to play; I’m glad you like it.

CN: What do you think the interstellar feelings reflected in your music say about the emotional state within (bursting to get out)?

KAREN: We have a good time playing. We’ve gotten to the point where when we practice, there’s not a lot of talking involved – we can just pick up and jam. It’s very liberating.

SHANNON: I think we are all dreamers with a lot going on in our lives. The music is a way for us all to keep sane after days of nonsense and hoping that we can make someone that is listening feel good and relate to an experience. Music is healing as we have learned.

MARK: The right mix of tension and release can do wonders for a song, and for the people playing it.

CN: Why do some of your songs lend themselves to lyrics and others are purely instrumental? What do you think necessitates lyrics in a song?

KAREN: Sometimes it’s tough to decide, but mostly we just recognize where lyrics would fit in, and where they wouldn’t. The singing is just one more instrument in the soup, not the focus with a backdrop. We’re starting to get more adept at adding vocals, and we’ll definitely do more harmonies, in fact all three of us sing in one of our new songs.

SHANNON: Some of the songs have lyrics to help carry the song and to fulfill more space. Other songs are able to stand alone and lyrics would just be a distraction to the melody.

MARK: Usually after we have the basic arrangement for a song, we decide whether or not to add vocals; it’s almost always the last step in our songwriting process. The criteria we use to make this decision are not really formalized, we just experiment with vocals and if we can’t find any that fit the song, we keep it instrumental.

CN: How do you make guitars reflect the big bang bursting sun? (I.e. explode)

KAREN: Shannon?
SHANNON: I have spacebees hot wire my jazzmaster.

CN: What are the five albums you'd say have most influenced Aydin's music?

KAREN: Well, actually, I think we’d each have a different set of five albums, and I think that’s one of our strengths, not all having the same influences. We aren’t just rehashing our favorite stuff – we have to meld it together into something different. Mark and Shannon might share a couple... Geez, this is hard, but here are my choices for what has influenced how I play in this band, in no particular order:
Pixies - Bossanova
Jane’s Addiction - Nothing’s Shocking
18th Dye - Tribute to a Bus
Taking Pictures - Friends Are Ghosts plus various mixes that Shannon has made, plus the Galaxy 500 box set I borrowed from Mark for a long time...

SHANNON: Swervedriver - Raise, My Bloody Valentine - Loveless, The Stone Roses - Stone Roses....

MARK: Galaxie 500 – On Fire, Built to Spill – Perfect From Now On, My Bloody Valentine – Loveless, 18th Dye – Tribute to a Bus, The Silver Apples – The Silver Apples/Contact

CN: Tracks like 'Strange Attractor' (which is one of my favorites, by the way) are kind of like jamming, but one wouldn't confuse it with hippie jam bands or jazz. Autumn Thieves spoke of a similar improvisatory element in their music, but they said the difference was their version was evil. But Aydin's music seems really joyous most of the time so that wouldn't seem to really apply here. What do you think separates your brand of space rock improvisation (which I'm assuming, tell me if I'm off here) from hippie style jam bands?

KAREN: You hit the nail on the head – "space rock jamming" is exactly what we’ve been calling it. I’m not even sure what is supposed to constitute "space rock"... I like to think we’re redefining the term... but anyway, I think we are more focused than most jam bands. We tend to have predetermined signals, or are able to read one another, so that rather than going on and on with one idea, we can change and evolve within a few minutes. Plus we know when to quit for the sake of our audience. When we practice, we may jam on something for 15-20 minutes, but I think we all agree that as fun as that is, it can get pretty boring to watch.

SHANNON: We keep our shoes on and try not to lose complete control of the exit.

MARK: None of us is really all that into soloing, and as a band we try not to be self-indulgent. As James Brown would say, we hit it and quit it.

CN: How do you think the accordion influences the drone of Aydin?

SHANNON: I think the accordion gives us a huge leap into galactic space. Mark has a very original sound that surprises us all at times.

MARK: Even though the accordion is the unique instrument, I think it’s really Karen’s and Shannon’s styles that define our sound, particularly the unusual time signatures and crisp sonic attack. I just try to fill in the space with some nice drones and the occasional melody.

CN: Aydin avoids typical loud soft dynamics. Your songs run more like interludes and pleasantly disorienting passages, floating satelites and parts seeming to fall into each other rather than your typical verse / chorus / verse pop songs. There's a really interesting use of space and dynamics at work here that sounds like an anthemic call to the aliens to come & celebrate life: how does the songwriting work?

KAREN: A lot of our music just comes from jamming out, then separating out and solidifying those parts that we like best, then mixing and matching until we get what we think is a complete song. Lyrics and singing come last, the icing on the cake as it were.

Somehow we avoid typical song structures – again, not because we set out to, it just seems to come out that way, maybe more from ignorance of how to write a typical song. Not to say we’re not concerned with song structure, we do arrange and rearrange and add and subtract until it seems right to us. That applies for time signatures, too: Shannon in particular doesn’t seem to have internalized the typical four-beats, four-bars thing. When I first started to play with those guys, there were parts that might have been considered mistakes, and I could have tried to fit them into a typical beat, but I chose to work with them instead, and it’s much more interesting.

SHANNON: We typically find ourselves under the influence and just let go of the weight of the day. One note leads to another leading to a melody into pieces that reflect the mood of the time.

MARK: Typically we’ll start with a guitar part and jam on it, and if we like the result we’ll use trial and error to build new parts and eventually a loose arrangement. At this point, the song takes a basic shape and we start looking for ways to round it out, like vocals, or an intro, or some noise breaks. It’s really a very informal process.

CN: What else do you guys do besides music?

KAREN: I work at Dirt Rag Magazine - it’s a national mountain bike magazine based in Pittsburgh. It’s a cool job, in that I’m in a great position to participate in and document the sport, while in a very laid-back and fun atmosphere. Funny, I’ve had more "rock-star" experiences – traveling, getting comped stuff, signing autographs – with my day job than with the band! Not that I could ever do without the band though...
For a long time I’ve felt like I’ve been part of two worlds that don’t intersect, music and biking, but in the last couple years they’re starting to collide more, which is great. More of my music friends are biking for transportation, health and fun. We even got to play a show put on by a local bike advocacy group, Bike Pittsburgh, this past summer.

SHANNON: I ride bicycles and work in a bike shop where I spend the day dreaming of how to break free.

MARK: I work full-time in a public library and I’m a part-time graduate student. I always bring home books, music, and movies from the library, and they keep me occupied in my occasional free time.

CN: Do you think outer space appeals to those who feel uncomfortable in their own skins? How do you think the spinning of the planets around the sun reflects itself in your music? Do you think there's life on other planets? What do you think their music sounds like?

KAREN: Yes, maybe... feeling like an outsider is another thing that leads to looking further outward... Ah, the Music of the Spheres. That idea has intrigued me since I heard of it... can’t remember whose it was though... but a classical idea that the solar system, and universe, operate like gears in a clock, and their perfection can be the basis and inspiration for celestial music. There have been, and are, creatures living on this Earth so strange you can barely understand how they’re alive. Other planets? The life forms may be so weird we wouldn’t even recognize them as such, but they probably do make music, and it’s probably beyond our comprehension.

SHANNON: I think outer space appeals to anyone that is a dreamer. We have songs that were written during different seasons which reflect our mood. If there is life on other planets I would love to hear their music and to get a hold of an instrument.

MARK: This reminds of me of something that’s been bothering me. Did it ever seem weird to you that the cantina band in "Star Wars" played ragtime jazz and not something, say, more indicative of their alien nature?

CN: What does your lyric 'each moment is in itself a universe' mean to you?

KAREN: Funny how you linked that song in particular with psychedelia in question #7: the line "each moment is, in itself, a universe" came to me while tripping back in college… I was trying to convey the sense of time appearing to be not steady and linear, but flexible and circular, and infinitely expanding the more one pays attention to it. The idea hung out in the back of my mind until writing the lyrics to that song, which were inspired by reading about mathematic chaos theory and its implications for how the world is ordered, how there are an infinite number of levels of complexity.

SHANNON: Each moment is so undiscovered that anything has the potential to occur.

MARK: Even the smallest measurement of time contains infinite possibilities.

To learn more about Aydin or purchase their music please visit:
http://aydin-music.com/