claire cronin

Download: Neon Indian “Terminally Chill”

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(from Psychic Chasms out now on Lefse)

This summer, the Internet started buzzing about a mysterious Neon Indian, riding on ephemeral synth grooves and wearing an invisible cloak. Love blossomed in the wake of his microchips until Vega’s Alan Palomo revealed himself to be the downbeat balladeer. Psychic Chasms isn’t meant for the dance floor. It’s more a surreal afterparty or a walk home at sunrise with bird sounds set to ‘Terminally Chill.’ This interview by Daiana Feuer.

What scene from your life would you have Stan Brakhage use for a short video?
Alan Palomo: Walking through Helsinki this year, which is actually the most beautiful city I’ve ever been to. It’s its own little isolated place and something about that environment is very haunting. Losing my virginity—which I believe the Velvet Underground had something to do with. I always have these weird wintry Christmas memories centered around the college town I met most of my band in. There’s this eerie purgatory quality about that place. Once everyone else has left for Christmas and you’re walking around with headphones on through this completely barren, abandoned ghost town … Seeing Christmas lights no one is watching might provide some pretty good Brakhage fodder. But that’s just me.
What film aesthetics inform how you make music?
Alan Palomo: Stan Brakhage has always been an important guy for me. If I ever feel depleted of ideas, I sift through his anthologies and find amazing stuff. These days he’s a professor at a university—that is, I think he’s still alive. Anyway, he pioneered this technique where he would literally paint on celluloid film and he’d create these little collages on every frame—really lush and gorgeous, almost visual soundscapes. It seems like it would only go well with music but it’s funny that most of his stuff is silent. I throw it on, put on a record, and space out for a little while. I’ve always liked the bleak and dreary Gus Van Sant movies—Drugstore Cowboy, My Own Private Idaho, Elephant. All of them have really spoken to me from a visual standpoint. They all have this monochromatic vibe to them. It’s all centered around a deadbeat protagonist. I’ve always liked weathered, rough-looking films. John Cassavetes was doing the same thing in the ’70s. These really stark, rough-around-the-edges films. That aesthetic calls me the most.
You make a lot of art-school-type references.
Alan Palomo: HA! No, actually, I’m not a college dropout but I have put school on a permanent hiatus. I’ve always adamantly sought these things out. Film has been a big thing for me since I was in middle school. It’s kind of important to stay cultured and if there’s any phobia I have, it’s not being able to communicate or articulate ideas that I have. I think that’s why I’m obsessed with constantly writing music or thinking about film. I’m trying to find the best way to phrase something—whether it be through words or some other strange medium. I had a pretty regular upbringing. There’s no high collegiate experience that really shaped me. I did a lot of speech and debate, I’ll tell you that. Maybe that has something to do with it.
And in your spare time you read Baudrillard.
Alan Palomo: Exactly. When I was in Switzerland, I was talking to this girl about books and she was like, ‘What are you reading right now?’ And I said, ‘Oh, Jack Kerouac’s On The Road—I’ve always wanted to read that.’ And she was like, ‘Of course you would. You are American touring band.’ That was funny—to get pointed out as a walking cliché.
What book best matches the musician-on-tour idea of ‘the traveler’?
Alan Palomo: There’s a few. It’s kinda goofy because it seems like a high school book but I read it every now and again because it’s so short. It’s called The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, and it’s this transitory tale about this kid who has this unusual dream about a splendorous treasure that he starts to pursue a few pages into the story. It’s a really good travel book. This kid who finds all these weird situations that end up being beneficial in one way or another. Anything by Tom Robbins. Maybe it doesn’t specifically document what it’s like to be on the road but it’s that sort of weird, rhythmic lifestyle of constantly being on your feet and having these quick-witted moments and being introduced to so many characters that walk in and out of the narrative. To me that feels like being on tour. Every day you’re in a new environment and meet a new set of people and will have this intimate experience with them and then you leave and you find a set of quirky characters in the next city. It’s fun but it’s also the most stressful experience of my life. It’s a proving ground right now. I take it all in and it all comes so quickly. I’m on this learning curve and don’t exactly know how to live in this environment. So I start neglecting all these individual day-to-day things that a normal human being takes for granted. It’s only after you’ve proven that you can pull it off live and continue an output of creativity—then you can sort of step back and view it objectively. Being immersed in what I am now, it’s weird. I’ll read an article or see something about Neon Indian and it blows my mind that this is something I started in April on my bedroom floor.
What began the Neon Indian mystery?
Alan Palomo: I sent a track to Gorilla vs Bear. He’s always been a supporter of things I do. So I was like, ‘Hey, here’s this track—Neon Indian is a project but I’d like to keep my identity under wraps for the time being.’ I didn’t want Neon Indian to be judged preemptively by any association with Vega. He put it on the website and it evolved from there. It’s strange how closely people follow his blog. Which I think is fantastic because Chris has impeccable taste, but I felt privileged to develop this steady outpour of material until sure enough I had an album.
Were you feeling as mysterious as people’s reaction made it seem?
Alan Palomo: When you’re broke and living in Austin, you can feel elusive but not mysterious. Maybe mysterious to your friends. Then the mystery factor became this more prominent theme, but at least the music got to speak for itself.
Are you and the video artist Alicia Scardetta going to finally work together?
Alan Palomo: Initially when the project was conceived we were going to collaborate more from a visual standpoint. Find cool projections for the live show and short films or video art pieces we could have to accompany the music. Given that she’s still in school and the semester is demanding, I’m not really sure. These days the collaboration seems sparse so I just keep working on the music aspect. In this phase, I’ve been focusing on trying to find a good reinterpretation of the album songs live. That’s been an interesting little challenge—putting together a four-piece band to re-contextualize that music in the live environment.
Is the live rendition meant to be danceable?
Alan Palomo: That definitely becomes amplified in the live environment—since I have a drummer and a guitar player. When you see people moving on stage it kind of encourages people to do the same. Because I’m so used to working on dance music—working on something constantly at 128 bpm, which is this fast disco rhythm, and then slowing something down—for me, Neon Indian is pretty downtempo. At least to my ears it was a drastic change. But I guess for anyone else it’s still pretty straightforward kick and snare dance beat. It’s only in the live show that people get dancing, which is fun to see. We’ll be playing ‘Deadbeat Summer’ and people are jumping around and trying to awkwardly shuffle to it—which has its own endearing qualities to it. When I write I do start with a beat first—60 to 70 percent of the time I develop an interesting little percussion element and write around that, but what I want people to focus on or what I enjoy focusing about more is the atmospherics in the songwriting. I still dig if people get down on Neon Indian.
What did you use to make the album on your own?
Alan Palomo: Basically just what was in my bedroom in Austin within that year that I lived there. A few different events led to that one month that I made the album. With synthesizers, sampler stuff, and unusual little rack-mount toys that I’d been wanting to use for something but they’d never really fit the Vega aesthetic. When it got to around time to start writing Neon Indian stuff, it was liberating to incorporate those elements into the recording process.
Are you a technical guy in terms of the things you use or know how to use?
Alan Palomo: I’m slowly becoming that guy. I feel like I’m picking up things as I go along and it’s a discovery project. I could very well be the guy. I just don’t know how conscious I am of it.
What’s the right kind of cold?
Alan Palomo: It’s nice and nippy. It’s not obnoxiously cold. Which is what I was expecting from Chicago. I got a friend who lived in Chicago and he moved to Texas because he said he couldn’t stand another winter here. So he is doing a seasonal move to Austin right now. It’s kinda funny that some people want to live here but can’t even be there in the winter.
That’s why old people move to Florida.
Alan Palomo: That is true. I can imagine that’s why old people move to Florida.

NEON INDIAN WITH KEENHOUSE, TIGERCITY, LITTLE RED RADIO AND SHORT CIRCUIT ON FRI., NOV. 20, AT THE ECHOPLEX, 1154 GLENDALE BLVD., ECHO PARK. 9 PM / $12 / 18+. ATTHEECHO.COM. NEON INDIAN’S PSYCHIC CHASMS IS OUT NOW ON LEFSE. VISIT NEON INDIAN AT MYSPACE.COM/NEONINDIAN.