gari askew

We at L.A. RECORD have known Devon Williams a long time, which is why we no longer fear him. When he’s talking, he’s uncompromisingly hilarious and when he’s writing songs, he’s making sure every tiniest detail is working hard to mess up your heart. His new album Euphoria is waiting patiently for you to come around. This interview by Chris Ziegler.

Your first record was Carefree and the new one is Euphoria, but there’s a part of your personality your album titles have yet to address—when will you commit to vinyl the sarcastic shit-talker true Devon Williams fans know and love?
You’re gonna get the most serious answer from me—that’s the only thing I don’t wanna do: have it be funny! I hate funny music videos, I hate clever lyrics … I don’t listen to music to laugh. When I was younger, Adam Sandler on Saturday Night Live was funny except when he was like, ‘Now I’m gonna play guitar! Because I’m a guitar player!’ Laughter is just a way for people to deal with reality, right? Those are my two ways. When I write music, that’s how I deal with my feelings and process them. And if I meet people I don’t like or I have trouble making small talk, it’ll just turn to bullshit and at least I’ll have fun with it. People may think I’m really silly, but I think I’m just really honest. They think I’m laughing and making a fool out of myself, but I’m really trying to tell them something about themselves.
You said one of the reasons you love Cleaners From Venus is that every song is its own universe—does that come from this same drive to be honest?
Those are the great bands that can do that. Music is a labor of love, and if someone is putting love into it, it’s impossible to be too critical. ‘Maybe this doesn’t work, but … ’ But Cleaners—he just created music without stopping or thinking or anything and that’s what people should strive to do. To create. After he finished his body of work, it’s taken forever for him to get credit, but it’s a body of work that will be celebrated for a long time. That’s real songs!
You’ve been playing music for a long time, and been playing music with other people, too—what is the first big bad decision you feel every musician has to get past?
The first mistake is why people make music. I don’t understand when bands are like, ‘Oh, I started playing because it looks cool!’ Or to get girls or drugs. It’s bullshit! But bands do start for that reason. When I started playing guitar, I … just played guitar. I learned songs that I liked, and one day without noticing I was writing songs that weren’t very good. You just keep playing. And it becomes your own thing. That’s the goal for anyone—it becomes a whole unique thing that is amazing.
You told me that half the people who go to shows in L.A. don’t even like music. Why?
I don’t like going to shows anymore. I like writing music, playing shows, watching a movie or listening to records. The kind of music that strikes me is not the kind of bare bones garage shit that is going on right now. Sometimes I’m really blown away by a band that enjoys playing quietly or when a guitar can be pretty, but I don’t know if people like to stand around and watch a band like that unless it’s totally enthralling. There’s not a lot of personality. Strong frontman personalities. I’m guilty too—
You should definitely be more like G.G. Allin.
It’s true! People would enjoy that. I appreciate the music I play, but it’s not a live sound. We just play live because you have to do it to play the game. It’d be good to see a band like the Replacements. There’s not enough destructive bands, and if there are, they’re like paying homage to another band.
Would you be happy if you ended up like someone from your own record collection? Like the Cleaners From Venus or the Go-Betweens or something? Loved by a very limited-edition of people?
I couldn’t really be happy. I like songs first. I create music because I’m inspired by songs, and I’m not always in love with the same song. I’d be sad to experience only one kind of love for the rest of my life. That’s why on this record and Carefree, there are songs that are more guitar-driven and songs that me and Steve [Gregoropoulos] worked on. Some owe more to orchestral pop. Those are the two worlds I love. I could never choose.
What part of yourself do you save for your record? If your music is a self-portrait, what does that Devon Williams look like?
I’ve always written from the same place, which is how I’m feeling—as general as that is. People are put off by someone wanting to talk about their feelings. I understand! Some people don’t wanna hear a song about me and my girlfriend breaking up, but I do. And that’s what I wanna do—or not what I wanna do, but what I’m feeling. I never trained myself. I can only write about trying to find some sort of understanding, and it just evolved and there’s no way out of it. My favorite songwriter is Clifford T. Ward. He’ll sing about having a day off from traveling and he’s walking around the graveyard and he misses his girlfriend but he feels stupid because some people are dead. That’s a song! So deep in someone’s head … that’s where I want music to take me. I wanna hear someone say something that touches me.
Do you worry that inspiration is finite? And one day you’ll just be out of songs?
I think that’s a fear for anyone—for anyone that enjoys creative anything. Obviously, I’m not concerned with things that have been done before—I’m concerned with creating something more. … Everything changes—you don’t have to be ready for it as long as you acknowledge that. The worst is that Metallica movie. ‘We gotta recreate Master of Puppets.’ It’s so fucking pathetic! They are forever a joke because of that. They cling too tight to what they thought they were—and then this shit with Lou Reed? Nobody wants to hear that! As a music lover, I get bummed that the Replacements—to me—have three great albums sandwiched between two OK albums. I wish there was one more great one. But it’s not gonna happen. You just have to appreciate what’s there.
You have a tactically interesting perspective on this—kind of like you shouldn’t prepare for something as much as be ready for anything.
It’s funny. There’s like a hipster music machine, and I am very clearly not part of that. Things like making videos, doing singles, blah blah blah … I am really in good faith trying to be a part of it, but I think it’s so phony in a way. I feel if this album just goes quietly into the night, I’d be OK with that. I’m already working on another record. My philosophy—it’s not like, ‘I’m done with my great masterpiece! I want the whole world to enjoy it now!’ I’d end up crazy because it’s not up to me. If I cared, that would be a problem—you can’t really care. ‘Resilient’ is a word for what we do. We’re just guys—kinda goofy, kinda fumbling, but we don’t know when to shut up or stop playing and that’s why I love playing with Wayne [Faler, guitar] and Bill [Gray, bass] and Marty [Sataman, keyboards] so much.
Is that the Big Star method? ‘Record it and they will come and reissue it years later.’
If it’s a good 45, people will hear it. It’s like everything is so self-important—everyone is an entrepreneur and a business man and that’s the worst. ‘I run my band like a business!’ So bad! Even my closest friends argue with me. ‘Well, what if you wanna play music and make money?’ Well, I don’t care. I don’t wanna make money playing music. It’d be nice to do, but when I’m sitting at home on EDD, it’s not like I’m gonna spend all the time writing a great song. Great songs have their moments. Sitting around all day making music—that’s some crazy privileged upper-class shit. Why would I wanna be like Eddie Van Halen? I wanna be a working-class musician. I wanna live in the world. I’m afraid you’re gonna write ‘I wanna be a working-class musician!’ I’m not saying I’m Billy Bragg—I like having a job I pay my bills with and I like playing music. I like having a dual thing. People I work with are surprised I play music. I’m 30! I’m not proud to be in a band playing shit bars sometimes—there’s nothing to be proud of. My pride about music is over. I just can’t not do it.
You told me before that ‘People should make themselves available in service to the larger community and even their immediate community.’ Mike Watt and now Thundercat have talked about that, too. What is this idea of the musician in service about?
I’ve been playing a long time, and I get emails sometimes like, ‘Dude, I’m really into “Elevator.” What a cool song! I listened to it a million times!’ In a way, it’s like—‘I can’t hear you, I’m in my own head!’ But then … I love music too! How can that not be great to be a part of someone’s life? That’s the service that speaks to me. But you don’t dwell on it. You just put it out there. That’s why I wanted to write, to really go for it—to make it as best as you can because you hope it will become part of this canon of great songs someday. I never see myself like, ‘I wanna be like the Rolling Stones!’ I don’t wanna be in a position of power. You don’t have to have power to lead people. I don’t need strength, I don’t need power—I’m self-sustaining. I’m doing the world a favor by not going to shows—they don’t want me at Spaceland. I’m annoying! I’ll bother the bartenders and I’ll yell at the bands! That’s also why I love having Bill in the band. He’s so outspoken and opinionated and he loves if people wanna fight him because he will fight them and he will win!
You finally got your Sundance Kid!
We’re gonna have a fucking music cleansing! We’re gonna get a gang of us and go to shows like, ‘No! You need to not play guitar! Your really cool Silver Lake sound is great, but you should take your Silver Lake sound and go work at the gas station, and let some of those people not have those jobs!’ I’m not trying to hurt anyone’s feelings … but …
You’re just passionate?
I wanna say there are some really good L.A. bands now. Just put ‘Editor’s Note: Devon wanted me to stress this.’

DEVON WILLIAMS’ EUPHORIA IS OUT NOW ON SLUMBERLAND.