alice rutherford

Tussle started in San Francisco in 2001 but sound like they come from Kingston or Brooklyn or Munich—Harmonia instrumentals redubbed for release as 99 records B-sides, with Vetiver’s Andy Cabic originally on bass. Their most recent album is last year’s Telescope Mind, recently remixed by Dennis Young from Liquid Liquid. Knob twiddler Nathan Burazer speaks from the edge of civilization somewhere in west Texas.

Has Tussle played more junkyards, bookstores, art museums or warehouses?
Since the beginning? Probably more galleries. We haven’t played that many junkyards, actually.
What environment brings out your best?
Personally I think a good house party can be amazing if we have the right sound system, but we’re a little bit reliant on having good sound, so the drummers can hear sequences and stuff like that, and house parties don’t always have that set-up. We had really good sound at the Natural History Museum in L.A.—super reverb-y and crazy.
How did you end up soundtracking a documentary on bicycle gangs?
This indie filmmaker in New York City named Cheryl Dunn used some of our first album—five of the six songs—for a movie about all these bicycle gangs. The hipster kids, the Latino gang, the girls who just wanna dress up—all these little factions and all these different gangs who get together for Critical Mass and stuff like that. It’s a great project. We all ride bikes a lot in San Francisco so it made sense.
What existing movie would you like to soundtrack?
Maybe Tron or Holy Mountain? Or The Shining? We have a video artist that does projections for us—not really a movie, but an abstract light show, but in the earlier days, it looked more like a movie, and we were creating a live soundtrack. I love doing that stuff.
How much audience participation is too much?
Well, there was a situation that didn’t work when we had our record release show. For the last song, we sometimes do this thing called ‘drum madness.’ We invite other people to play drums along with us—like little percussion things—and it went on a really long time. We left our instruments and the show was over but the audience kept going, and they got on stage and even played our drums.
Too much is when they take your instruments from you?
I wouldn’t say too much—it just went pretty far. There was a girl in Glasgow who did backflips over the front monitors and grabbed the mic and screamed repeatedly.
Is that the kind of effect you tend to have on people?
We make them sweat, usually. Maybe take them into the vortex—sweating into the vortex. That’s the next album.
That’s a euphemism for the birth experience.
Exactly! That’s what it is, man—rebirth!
What was the most constructive thing Dennis Young from Liquid Liquid told you?
We didn’t actually work in the same studio. We recorded in San Francisco and mailed the CD to him in New York City, and he recorded that and made a new song, so we didn’t like talk shop or anything. But when Sal P. came out—he was the singer and percussionist in Liquid Liquid—he showed us a bunch of cool percussion instruments we’d never seen before. He and Dennis joined us on stage at Webster Hall in New York City, and they told me they’re gonna be re-releasing some of the old albums. Maybe some new tracks on them, too.
Did San Francisco have a similar kind of scene in the late ‘70s?
I’m not really sure. There is a kind of dialogue or something going on between New York and San Franscisco, even today. LCD Soundsystem and !!! and then similar things sprouting in San Francisco. Though we’re a little more down to earth—a little more ghetto.
At what point did you decide you were ghetto?
Right off the bat. [Drummer] Jonathan [Holland]’s kit is kind of made from garbage, or was—buckets and bottles—and I don’t think I’ve ever really bought equipment. We found a keyboard on the street and other broken-down drum machines, and we use old things my friend from high school had given me.
Did you know you were Dennis Young’s first remix?
I hope he does more. That’s actually gonna come out on a 12” soon—maybe when we get back, it’ll be done. Did you hear the story how that remix came about? I worked at an interactive design studio—I did like flash games and websites—and a game tester named Henry would come in. He was really into music, and he actually does lectures about avant-garde composers. He was like, ‘Oh, cool, you have two drummers? Sounds like my friend’s band—Liquid Liquid.’ He was a childhood friend of Dennis Young, and I said I was a fan, and he said, ‘Well, I’ll tell him.’ And so—it just worked out.
Have you reunited with Andy Cabic?
He’s co-producing our new album! And he joined us onstage once or twice. We’ve known Andy forever—we grew up in North Carolina together and we used to play together, though never formally as Vetiver. We had a living room and it didn’t have a TV—just instruments, one being a drum kit made of junk. And on Friday and Saturday nights, we’d hang out in the music room, making music and drinking whiskey. It was fun—we were all artists and we were constantly creating with all our friends from the neighborhood. Those were good times.
Drinking whiskey and making music is a good tradition.
Is it? We thought we were being original.

TUSSLE PLAYS SAT., MAY 26, WITH ABE VIGODA, YACHT, THE SEA BEASTS, I.E. AND NO PAWS (NO LIONS) AT THE OLD BALDY BREWERY, 271 N. 2ND AVE., UPLAND. 8 PM / $5-$7 / ALL AGES. MYSPACE.COM/SILENCIORECORDINGS. AND SUN., MAY 27, WITH WHITE RAINBOW AND SMOOTH GROOVES AT FAMILY, 436 N. FAIRFAX, LOS ANGELES. 4 PM / ALL AGES. WWW.FAMILYLOSANGELES.COM. AND ALSO SUN., MAY 27, WITH YACHT AT PART TIME PUNKS AT THE ECHO, 1822 SUNSET BLVD., ECHO PARK. 10 PM / $5 / 21+. WWW.ATTHEECHO.COM.