Download: Hunx and His Punx “Lovers Lane”

(from Too Young To Be In Love out now on Hardly Art)

Hunx blew out of the desert right into the hearts of millions of teenagers everywhere, hyphenating years of admirably trashy Rip Off-style rock ‘n’ roll with his world-famous stint as one of the four heads of Gravy Train!!!! His new record on Hardly Art is all Kim Fowley-cum-Phil Spector teenage tragedy rock and it sounds like Kenneth Anger’s Kustom Kar Kommandos looks. He speaks now while naked on Valentine’s Day. This interview by Chris Ziegler.

Where did you get the world’s tiniest leather-daddy jacket?
There’s this store down the street from my store called the Antique Center—it’s owned by this crazy man whose father owned the junk store and he died, and he grew up there and it’s his life. I go there sometimes on break or when I’m bored, and I just saw it like, ‘Oh my God, I need that.’ His mom just gave it to me! I priced it at $50 because I feel anyone who wants to spend $50 on that is a really cool person and deserves it more than I do. But it wouldn’t even fit on a dick. Maybe a baby dick. Like a small … man’s penis.
Like midget size?
Midgets could have a big one. You never know.
What animal print best shows off your manhood?
Leopard print! I’m over zebra. I’ve done all the animal prints. I think I’m one of the only men who wears animal print. It’s a girl thing. I like getting it at thrift stores. I wore my Frederick’s of Hollywood one-piece underwear set all the time until someone stole it in Paris, and I just bought this silky men’s underwear at a thrift store the other day and I was wondering—is it gross to buy underwear from a thrift store? But I always do it. I usually wash ’em. I don’t wanna have scabies again. If you wash stuff, it’s OK. I had scabies for six months but I don’t know where it came from. I had to do this toxic treatment like nine times. It can cause brain damage.
What’s the most pleasurable way you ever damaged your brain?
Probably huffing Lysol. I think I wanted something else, but that’s all I had. That was just like … being a crazy teen. I’ve just done spray paint, Lysol, whippits and that spray cleaner stuff—that’s the best! The lens cleaner’s what got me started. I don’t do it anymore, but every time I see a duster I kinda wanna huff it. It’s probably how an alcoholic feels when they see a bottle of whiskey.
What’s your best broken addiction?
Shopping? That’s up there. Doing pills and shopping at the same time. I’d take a bunch of painkillers and go to the drug store and walk around for hours and spend like $100 on stuff I didn’t need.
What’s the best present your high self ever got your sober self?
A tiger statue. I was like, ‘What the fuck is this?’ If you have money to spend, it’s better to go shopping when you’re high, but if you’re poor it’s not a good idea.
Are you at your sexual peak now?
I’m on my third sexual peak.
What’s a sexual valley like?
That’s me being a weird celibate person for months on end. Then I think sex is disgusting. I had it in December and was like, ‘I’m never gonna have sex again!’ and I was totally grossed out by it. Then in January I had sex with like eight people.
Who broke the sex ban?
This footslave guy. He rubbed my feet for like an hour. He’s my only footslave but I think they usually go for a long time. It was a dream situation. The first time was in my bedroom but then I started going to his house because he had a flat screen TV. I’d make him do my laundry and stuff and watch something really stupid like ‘Desperate Housewives’ or ‘American Idol.’
Mozart had a song called ‘Lick My Ass.’ Are you as dirty as Mozart?
No, he didn’t! It’s called ‘Lick My Ass’? He wanted his ass to get licked?
He also was into people shitting in his bed.
Wow—that’s cool. I’m not into shitting. I wrote this song called ‘I Vant to Suck Your Cock’ and the other side is gonna be called ‘Monster Mouth.’ So take that, Mozart!
What is the fastest way to your heart?
Candy. A lot.
How much would it take to purchase you?
They gotta look cute, too. But I like sour candy.
If you had to die at the climax of a party you had organized, how and when would you want to go?
I always thought it’d be cool if my best friend kinda … killed me out of nowhere. Like I didn’t even know there was drama and they reached over and stabbed me. To death. It just seems like a surprise.
You’re so cheerful—you like candy and surprises!
I just think it sounds cool. I don’t wanna think about dying a slow painful death or killing myself, so it’d be cool if my friend just reached over and killed me.
Where if anywhere would you be uncomfortable showing your dick?
Anywhere my mom is, even though she’s already seen it—internet lurker! She was like, ‘Are you a porn star?’ I just told her it was for art. And that I couldn’t control it being on the internet and she got over it. I didn’t think she’d actually really care, but she kind of did. I had to like really keep my Facebook on lockdown cuz I have 2,000 friends and most of ’em are people I don’t know, so once in a while someone would tag a naked photo of me and I’d have to rush to a computer to untag it in hopes that my mom wouldn’t see it. But I just saw her and she told me she’s over Facebook, so I’m relieved.
Can we expect an explosion of naked photos now?
Now it’s on—tag away, people. I actually used to have this strange obsession of taking naked pictures of myself. This is before cell phones. I had this camera with this really shitty remote and I would set up scenes of me with like giant stuffed animals, and I’d get a boner and take a million photos and I made this little binder of them.
You and Shannon wrote the new album, but do you miss just having songs delivered to you by people who are all begging to write for you?
I really do like it in a way. It’s a cool thing people don’t do anymore unless they’re huge stars. Like teen stars or pop stars. I’m really into it, actually. I’m still kind of doing that here and there—with Fred Schneider. I didn’t even get a lot of grief for it. I just recorded another album alone and played all the instruments, and I feel like people are like, ‘Whoa—you can play guitar? And drums?’ I feel like they don’t realize that about me. I think it’s slightly like a gay guy thing. As in how guys kind of back in the day … I don’t know if it’s like that anymore, but you know how people were like, ‘Oh, girls can’t do things.’ Like, ‘He can’t play! He just dresses crazy and acts nuts.’ But I can do it!
What else are you great at?
Being funny. I like comedy but I feel like everyone I know who’s a stand-up comedian can’t carry a normal conversation. They’re just always practicing. Like trying out their routine while I’m trying to tell them something important, and they’re like on stage. I don’t wanna be like that. Sometimes on stage I can’t stop talking.
I heard you were rolling on the ground begging people to piss on you.
That is most likely a true story. The worst is if I get really high before a show, cuz then I was like lying on the ground begging my band to slow down. My friend was like, ‘I went to your show and I couldn’t see you the whole time cuz you were lying on the ground.’
Why don’t you travel with like a nice lawn chair to lounge on?
Good idea alert!
Or a piano you could roll around on?
Oh my god—that’d be like when I’m older.
How will you re-invent yourself after rock ‘n’ roll?
I don’t really think about when I’m older. I’m just gonna stay young.
Can we take a moment to acknowledge Michelle Santamaria who is now playing in your band? Michelle, who L.A. loved in the Pinkz and Bitchschool and Loli & the Chones?
Isn’t Michelle so great? Her guitar playing kills me. It made me cry. When we were recording, some of the songs were really sad. I don’t know what happened. I just got really into singing about sad stuff. I’m not trying to make people cry, but I don’t know. After so long, you wanna sing about something kind of serious.
‘Blow Me Away’ is about your father’s suicide, isn’t it?
Yeah, that’s about my dad. I feel like if you love someone and they die, the nicest thing you can do is write a song for them. Just to help me get over something—or I don’t know. It just feels really respectful.
Is it true you wake up in the middle of the night and do demos of sad songs you don’t remember in the morning?
Yes—that’s what I recorded an album of. One’s called ‘Say Goodbye Before You Leave.’ It’s about Jay Reatard. I was so bummed. Another is ‘When You’re Gone.’ They’re just stuff like that. Well, just a couple are really sad. A lot are just really pop. This solo thing might be all sad songs.
Did you ever think of doing like the plaster-caster thing and selling collectible Hunx dildos?
I really wanted to sell whips! When we were on tour with Jay and Nobunny, Nobunny had this little whip and I stole it and I’d whip everybody. I woke up one day with a whip in my handbag like, ‘What happened last night?’ Actually, I’m really tame in my life now unless I’m on tour.
What’s the scariest state?
I almost got murdered for being gay at a Dairy Queen in the middle of Texas. Somewhere between Denton and Austin. We just got in the van and sped away and then Brontes got a blow-job at the next truck stop. But me and Heather wouldn’t even get out of the van! That definitely put everyone’s spirits back in check. We were on tour with our friends V.I.P.—an all-gay rap group, and our roadie would wear like onesies, and everywhere we went V.I.P. would put on a show and start singing and dancing. … It was actually two fathers and two sons, the people who wanted to beat us up.
A father-son attack team?
A double father-son attack team!
Two generations of assholes!
It was crazy! And Brontes and Bear from V.I.P. are all Southern and they want to fight back, so they start talking all this shit to them. I high-tailed it out of there! I’m not into violence at all. It freaks me out. You don’t know if they have guns.
What’s the opposite of this? The most romantic experience in Texas?
What happened at the next truck stop. I don’t know if it’s really that romantic. Walking through the soda aisle and some trucker grabs your butt—it’s kind of sexy.
Have you ever picked someone up that quickly and confidently?
It probably didn’t work out for me. I kind of wait to be preyed on. I like to lure ’em in.
Do you have Hunx groupies? Now that you were in Italian Vogue?
I don’t know if I’d call them groupies. Sometimes there’s a couple gay guys like lingering around. But not always. I’ve seen two give each other the eye—like, ‘Back off!’ I love it. ‘Guys, please! There’s only one of me!’ Actually I like to leave and give them nothing. Believe it or not, I’m kind of picky.

L.A. RECORD PRESENTS HUNX AND HIS PUNX WITH BLEACHED PLUS LIVE MEXICAN WRESTLING ON SAT., JUNE 18, AT NOMAD GALLERY, 1993 BLAKE AVE., FROGTOWN. 7 PM / $10 / 18+. GET TICKETS HERE! (NOTE: SHOW HAS BEEN MOVED FROM SHOW CAVE!) HUNX AND HIS PUNX’ TOO YOUNG TO BE IN LOVE IS OUT NOW ON HARDLY ART. VISIT HUNX AND HIS PUNX AT MYSPACE.COM/HUNXSOLO.

Download: Unnatural Helpers “Girl In The Window”

(from Cracked Love & Other Drugs out now on Hardly Art)

Download: Golden Triangle “Cold Bones”

(from the split with the Fresh and Onlys out now on Hardly Art)

Download: The Dutchess and the Duke “Hands”

(from Sunset/Sunrise out now on Hardly Art)

The Dutchess and the Duke were already great when they came through Los Angeles almost exactly a year ago, but their beautiful new album Sunset/Sunrise (produced by Gris Gris’ Greg Ashley) has Lee Hazlewood smiling proudly down from somewhere above Sweden. They speak now to the Black Lips’ Jared Swilley, conducting his first interview ever.

This feels weird. This is the first interview I’ve ever done.
Jesse Lortz (guitar/vocals): Are you starting your journalism career?
Yeah, I guess. Was the Fe Fi Fo Fums single ‘You Might Get Me’ the precursor to the Dutchess and the Duke switching to that kind of style more?
Jesse Lortz: Kind of—like I tried to get out of it. I kept telling Tre, ‘I can’t write anymore stupid Fe Fi Fo Fums songs anymore.’ And he was like, ‘Dude, you have to because you said you would.’ ‘All right—I’ll write this song that’s totally unpunk, but probably more punk than anything I’ve ever written.’ That is what was in my heart pretty much. It wasn’t like, ‘Let’s party! Let’s get fucked up!’ It was more kind of miserable shit I guess, in my heart. And that doesn’t make for good party songs.
When you first started playing out with Dutchess and the Duke, were the crowds automatically kind of different? Like switching genres?
Jesse Lortz: Yeah, and plus we hadn’t really done any shows until that Fleet Foxes tour. So everybody at our shows was like Pitchfork dudes. Just jokes or whatever, just people that I had never really associated with or gone to shows with. I didn’t even know Pitchfork existed until our record came out and then it was like, ‘Oh! There’s this whole thing going on.’ It was crazy. You’ve gone through the same thing, I’m sure, where all of a sudden it’s not the same 50 people at your shows. There’s like strangers coming to your shows that are talking to you about your songs. Mark [aka. BBQ] I know gets pissed because he’s like, ‘There’s all these fucking jokes at our shows.’ It’s weird. It’s not really who you’re trying to reach out to. But that’s who picks up on it because that’s who reads the Internet, I guess.
But you don’t mind doing that?
Jesse Lortz: No. I’ve also learned along the way that you can’t really judge. You know, I don’t want to be judged. You don’t want to be judged. You can’t really judge somebody just because they wear certain clothes. Some dude that’s walking around in a football jersey, you know—he might have been raped by his dad. We don’t know.
Did you get any fallout from the Horizontal Action crowd? Or any of the old-school stuff?
Jesse Lortz: I don’t really think so. I kind of feel like everybody in that crowd was ready to do something different. You can tell by the Black Lips or Jay Reatard or King Khan and BBQ—like all that shit is really different than Rip Off Records or shit like that. I kind of feel like that whole scene has evolved with us in a way.
I always felt like it was a good thing to break out from—it almost felt like a little club. It was cool to get out of that. I still like it, and I still see the same people for the most part everywhere. But it’s kind of neat to get to play in front of college kids or people you never associate with.
Jesse Lortz: Totally. They like music too, and they have experiences too. It’s not like it’s just us or the same people that would go to all our other shows. And the people that liked the Fe Fi Fo Fums like the Dutchess and the Duke even better. I’m sure we’ve alienated a few people but I think that they obviously don’t really care about us or care about our music, so we don’t really need them.
Is it more fulfilling? Like your other bands were more punk bands that were fun—dance party stuff. But is it more fulfilling getting up there and … well, obviously it’s more heartfelt and deeper than other stuff you’ve done.
Jesse Lortz: I feel like when we were doing the Flying Dutchmen or the Fe Fi Fo Fums, I was lying. I felt super fucking depressed every time we played a show. I felt like, ‘Fuck, this sucks. I hate all these people. I don’t want to fucking be here.’ And now I actually feel good after we play. I’m happy. I like talking to people after we play at our shows because I don’t feel like I’m faking it.
I’ve felt like that too—where you have to put on a ‘every night is a Saturday night, everywhere you go’ thing, especially when you’re on tour. Was it hard making the switch to just you and Kimberly? With just two acoustics and your voices? Is that nerve-wracking at all since you’re like naked up there?
Jesse Lortz: Not really. I feel like it’s more real. We connect more with the audience. We connect more with each other. We connect with the songs more. We’re not hiding behind a bunch of stupid shit. It’s more about the music. As cheesy as that sounds, it’s more distilled.
How has it been since you added the full band?
Jesse Lortz: It’s cool. It really fills it out. Like we had Jered and Melissa from the Ponys come with us. And we’re playing a show Friday where we’re going to have piano and bass. It’s not like a permanent thing but we like to mix it up. We’re going to do an East Coast tour in January and it’s going to be just Kimberly and me. A lot of it is just whatever we feel like doing. It’s nice to not have to fill a certain sound or niche. We can just do whatever the fuck we want.
Y’all had a string section in Chicago, didn’t you?
Jesse Lortz: It was these two girls. I totally can’t remember their names. Matt would know. He was just like, ‘Hey you’ve got strings on this record. Do you want a string section for your Chicago shows?’ And these girls are in the Chicago Orchestra. They’re professionals and shit. They just came in and we’re like, ‘Here’s the notes.’ And they played it once and nailed it. It was cool.
You guys did a big tour with Modest Mouse, didn’t you?
Jesse Lortz: Yeah, we played the Aragon in Chicago. There were at least two thousand to four thousand people.
How do you find the transition to a huge stage treating you?
Jesse Lortz: We just curl up into a little ball up on stage. Being kind of a small-sounding band with huge rooms, you have to make it more intimate. But I like playing to more people sometimes because you can’t really pick anybody out. You’re just kind of playing to a mass.
I don’t know about you, but the most nerve-wracking shows I’ve ever played are to like ten people at a record store because you have to make eye contact.
Jesse Lortz: I HATE playing in-stores. I hate it so much. Like that thing we did at Vacation was like miserable.
I always feel like my face is on fire.
Jesse Lortz: I’m always shaking. I get up and I’m like, ‘Why am I fucking shaking? There’s like ten people here and they all like us.’ But you know, when you’re playing for three thousand people and you can’t see shit, it’s like, ‘Okay, fuckers. Here’s some songs.’
How were y’all received with Modest Mouse? And the Fleet Foxes? Those are two pretty big tours.
Jesse Lortz: I think people really liked it. It was really different than Modest Mouse so it was a nice little change I guess. And it was cool to play because that’s not really our … well, maybe it’s becoming our audience, but it hasn’t historically been our audience. There were like kids or whatever. It was cool. People really liked it. We sold a lot of shit. Signed some autographs.
Were those your first big-ass tours?
Jesse Lortz: Oh, well—yeah. We’d only played like three shows before we went on that Fleet Foxes tour. We had to literally learn the songs on stage. I just play all the parts in the studio and then we just learn them after, so it was kind of weird to be developing our sound or our stage show in front of hundreds or thousands of people.
Now that you have been touring a little more and playing bigger shows, are y’all able to make a living off this yet?
Jesse Lortz: Yeah—I mean, it’s not carrying us, but it’s definitely supplementing. With record sales and touring and playing shows around town and shit, it’s definitely putting some food on the table.
I heard you recently had a baby.
Jesse Lortz: Yeah. He’s four months old. His name is Oscar.
Kristen said you named him after Oscar from Gris Gris.
Jesse Lortz: Yeah.
How is having a family now? Is that going to affect your touring schedule at all?
Jesse Lortz: Not really. It’s kind of my job. If I had a 9-to-5 job I’d be gone everyday, but this way I’m only gone a couple weeks at a time. So it works a little better this way, I think. My wife would probably disagree with me, but she’s not here.
Has that affected your songwriting at all? That’s a huge change in life.
Jesse Lortz: Yeah. With the second record it was all about that pressure—to be fuckin’ Dad or husband or whatever, and it actually kind of cracked me a little bit. I didn’t really know how I’m going to do it. It’s scary. And I’m also figuring out how to do it while I’m playing these songs, while I’m in front of a bunch of people being scrutinized. And not like we’re super-famous or super-big or anything like that, but there is a level of scrutiny that comes with being a performer.
Absolutely. There’s a lot of pressure when everything you do is being looked at. I’ve been listening to the new album a lot. I think it’s awesome. I love the strings on it. It even sounds like there’s more country stuff in it too. Do you get weirded out when people describe you guys as a folk band?
Jesse Lortz: I don’t really care how people describe us. Everybody’s gotta put a label on everything. So whatever you think it is, then that’s what it is. If you think it’s folk or country folk or campfire punk or whatever. You can say whatever you want.
It reminds me of kind of like Satanic folk.
Jesse Lortz: Charlie Manson sort of stuff.
Yeah, or just that idea. Prettier than Charlie’s stuff. Do y’all have any connection at all to that folk scene that’s coming up?
Jesse Lortz: Not at all.
You recorded the new album with Greg Ashley in San Francisco. How did that come about?
Jesse Lortz: We knew we had to do a record and we wanted to do it with him just because the Gris Gris shit sounds so awesome and he has his studio and you can smoke in there and he’s pretty cheap and he’s a friend. And a lot of it was getting out of the city and doing a different kind of record.
Was it just you and Kimberly doing all that? Because there’s a lot of instruments on the record. Did Greg play with y’all at all?
Jesse Lortz: Yeah. He played piano and then I did all the guitars. Oscar did some bass, Greg did some bass. We all just changed it up—whoever happened to be there at the time and wanted to play. It was awesome.
Gris Gris is one of my favorites. They’re over now aren’t they?
Jesse Lortz: No, they’re playing out. They played at the Great American a couple weeks ago. In November and also December, he’s going to do a West Coast and Midwest tour with us. He’s going to open, and then he and Oscar’s going to be our backing band.
Is this the longest any of your bands has ever lasted?
Jesse Lortz: Yeah. Two albums. Three 7”. This is definitely the longest I’ve ever been in a band.
Is it just because you enjoy it more?
Jesse Lortz: Yeah—because it’s real. I’m not trying to regurgitate someone else’s shit. I’m regurgitating my own shit.
Since you guys are getting bigger, what do you think about licensing songs to anyone? Like if some company asked y’all to use one of their songs—if you didn’t write the song for them?
Jesse Lortz: I don’t fucking care. I mean, I’ve got a kid to feed. We got bills. Once it’s written and it’s out there, I’m kind of done with it. It’s more of a relief just writing it, and then once it’s out there, if I can make money off it … like we had a song on “Entourage.” I think that show is horrible, but I don’t care. They paid us to use it, and they wanted to use our song. They have a good musical director, and a lot of people heard it and a lot of people bought the record because of it. But if it’s like McDonald’s … nah, actually I’d take McDonald’s money, too. I don’t fucking care. It’s just money.
That’s how I feel. If you’re not writing a jingle for something, why does it matter if you’re taking a corporation’s money?
Jesse Lortz: Totally, and I think that our generation and our crowd has gotten to the point where we’re all a little older now, and you can’t fucking holler ‘Sellout!’ just because someone’s making money off their music. This is how we make money.
I think you get past the point of screaming about that after high school or your early twenties because you realize that everybody has to make a living. You wouldn’t call someone a sellout because they got a promotion at their job. And none of us see too much money from record sales anymore, so you kind of have to supplement your income because nobody’s buying records like they used to.
Jesse Lortz: True. You just got to tour and tour and tour.
Do you still enjoy touring?
Jesse Lortz: Yeah! I love touring. I love it more now than I ever have because I’m in a place where I’m a little more pleasant than I used to be, so I make friends instead of, ‘Oh, there’s that asshole Jesse!’
I’ve never toured with just one other person.
Jesse Lortz: It’s awesome. We get along really well, so we can just sit. There’s times when we’ll sit in the car for three, four hours in total silence with no music and no talking, and it doesn’t get uncomfortable or weird or anything. It’s just relaxing. You don’t have to be ‘normal,’ if that makes any sense. You don’t have to make conversation or entertaining or anything like that. You can just be you and shut the fuck up for a change.
How’d you guys hook up with Hardly Art?
Jesse Lortz: They liked our single and they called us in and were like, ‘Hey, we want to do an album.’ And we were like, ‘Okay, give us some money.’ And then they gave us some money and I wrote a bunch of songs.
So they signed you with just a single recorded?
Jesse Lortz: Yeah, we hadn’t even played any shows. They’re really friendly and supportive and cool. We’re actually supposed to be up there right now—celebrating and drinking mimosas.

THE DUTCHESS AND THE DUKE WITH GREG ASHLEY ON WED., NOV. 11, AT SPACELAND, 1717 SILVERLAKE BLVD., SILVER LAKE. 8:30 PM / $8-$10 / 21+. CLUBSPACELAND.COM. AND WITH GREG ASHLEY AND THE HEAPS ON FRI., NOV. 13, AT THE CROSS-CULTURAL CENTER AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORIA AT IRVINE, IRVINE. 8 PM / $7 / ALL AGES. ACROBATICSEVERYDAY.COM. THE DUTCHESS AND THE DUKE’S SUNSET/SUNRISE IS OUT NOW ON HARDLY ART. VISIT THE DUTCHESS AND THE DUKE AT MYSPACE.COM/THEDUTCHESSANDTHEDUKE.

Download: Talbot Tagora “Ichthus Hop”

(from Lessons In The Woods Or A City out now on Hardly Art)

Talbot Tagora have roots in the Smell but survive and thrive now in the woods of the Pacific Northwest, where they make space rock from planet jazz on their fascinating new record Lessons In The Woods Or A City. They speak now before van trouble in unforgiving Utah. This interview by Vanessa Gonzalez.

There is a Stranger piece that says, ‘Talbot Tagora likes to talk about religions people think are cults.’ What does that mean?
Chris Ando (guitar/vocals): I think that was worded wrongly, if wrongly’s a word. When Eric interviewed us I had this idea, and I don’t even really remember what it was, but I think I may have actually been writing ‘Mixed Signals Through Miles of Pilgrimage’ at the time. But I worded it in a wrong way and I don’t remember what I was thinking about.
Do you have an interest in cults?
Cults? Yeah. To me, I wonder what a cult is because—it’s a hard thing to say. It’s funny that I don’t want to say that—talk about religions this way.
I think Seattle has a unique and interesting religious feeling—there’s definitely a strong Catholic-Christian presence there but then there’s also so much Native American spirituality still that resonates. And also kind of a pagan nature awareness that maybe comes from the Scandanavian influence.
I think that can totally have had an effect on the way that Ani, Mark and I were brought up. One thing that I really like about the Northwest is all the Native American stuff—the culture is still alive, and it’s hard to say that about other places, unfortunately. But it’s really inspiring to know that those people that were native to this land still have access to their beliefs and their ancestors. I could go on and be a bummer about it but I’m glad that the culture is still alive. But it is a bummer—I grew up in a town called Polk City, and whenever I go back things are being knocked down. Like totem poles.
In ‘Ichthus Hop’ you say, ‘the 21st century picses, where every single good fish/bad fish led through immunity and experience puts the past where it goes in a dumpster, in a calendar in the back of my head.’
I’m trying to explain how money works in our society. Money being the idea and it’s someone else’s idea. We are born into it and someone made it because that’s the way they thought things would work. Before money existed there was this hunter-gatherer thing where there were all sorts of different ways to go about living. In a way things are different and the same because when you go fishing, you’re getting food—physically going fishing and catching fish and bringing it home so that people could eat it. And when you’re going to work you’re getting money and using that money to feed your family. So in a way things are the same but different. People have their roles and I think right now… what I’m commenting on in that song is that a lot of people don’t know their roles. They’re being told what their roles are.
Seems like life—if you go back far enough—was so much more about survival,and as we have developed all these ways to satisfy survival needs in a really instantaneous way, that idea of ‘what is my purpose?’ comes to the forefront.
Yeah, like survival isn’t even a question—I mean it always is and everyone always thinks about death, people aren’t that scared in America of how they’re going to make it because they’re not the ones going out to hunt. A lot of people can just live off of their parents. I can admit that a lot of the times when I’m shopping I don’t really think about where that food is coming from—or what the situation or environment was in the places where the people are making that food.
Is the song ‘Hunger Strike’ about our food supply?
That song’s kind of personal—it’s not as politically charged as a lot of other songs on the record. That song is—in a weird way—a love song. It’s more of a sex love song. A song about not knowing my balance and using my eyes to find my conscience. It’s like putting all of your trust about someone on your visual sight and not really thinking about everything. And that’s really it. That sounds really corny, but I guess that’s the way it is.
What exactly did you learn about judging or not judging someone on their physical appearance?
That it can make you really sick. It can lead you in the wrong direction—it can lead you into just making really bad decisions. For me it was kind of a self-destructive way. I wrote the lyrics to that song kind as a proof that that happened and I didn’t want it to happen again.
In ‘Mouth Rainboy’ you say, ‘He ain’t no rock god, just a man with an addiction.’
That song is about an artist who I’ll call ‘Artist A’ and his collaboration with another artist who we’ll call ‘Artist B.’ One’s a filmmaker and ones a musician. I made up that quote that Artist A said about artist B and it gave me a different perspective about artist B because artist B was kind of a legendary rock god. That’s what that song’s about. It shows how situations like that can change you perspective on someone.
What about ‘dictionarphilosophy’? What does that mean?
In a way this is dictionarphilosophy because I’m trying to explain to you what I mean about things. That song ‘Hairspray’ is kind of about patriarchy—the idea of it. That term I use as an idea of how you can miscommunicate words. In other languages, you can find other words for actions or ideas you may not have even thought about before. The only language I know is English. Most of the people I know, their only language is English, too. I try to think if we think very similar because of the way we obtain language and how we communicate actions and ideas through English. Mark and I kind of both had the idea for this song and I ended up writing the lyrics. and we both kind of had this idea about the patriarchy. The song’s called ‘Hairspray’ because both of our moms used to put hairspray in our hair. Before kindergarten. Both of our moms wanted us to be handsome boys and so they put hairspray in our hair. We thought that was kind of funny—that moms that came from different backgrounds would do something like that, or why they would do something like that, or why we even had hairspray in our hair in the first place.
Our part in keeping up appearances.
Part of being an American, I guess.
What are you referring to in that song when you say, ‘My teacher’s husband tells me more than he should’?
That’s kind of a weird personal thing.
What about ‘Johnny Lazor’? What is that about?
That’s actually a baseball field on a road I used to live on—that whole song’s about the road I used to live on. I would always ride along that road and a lot of weird stuff would happen. My mom saw an accident and there’s a body hanging out of the car—really violent. A few days later I was driving around the same area and there was blood all over the road. There was a couple churches next to it and a giant Christmas tree and fire stations and all this regular stuff—kind of a weird clash. A month ago I was driving on it at like two or three in the morning and an old guy had a parrot on his shoulder. Just walking on the right side of the road. It’s on the way to a town called Black Diamond.
What about the reference to the swastikas in the glass all over you?
When we first moved there I was kind of scared of it. I learned that it was fine—that I’d be safe. Kind of near the place I saw the blood and the parrot, there was a swastika on the road. I’m trying to explain this to my boss at this screen printing place I worked and he says, ‘Oh yeah, I parked near there one day and someone broke into my car and stole my stereo.’ It left this weird impression on me. It goes along with the clashing of all the other stuff near it.
Do you think there’s a unique strangeness to the northwest?
It’s funny—we just got our van broken into a few days ago and our stereo got stolen. But that can happen anywhere. It’s also funny thinking about the differences. I guess I don’t really know how to explain it but there are these bugs that make these sounds throughout the South. They’re like cicadas. But each city we got to, the bugs would make a different pattern and that was really interesting to me. In Black Diamond I would always hear frogs, and there may be frogs in the South but I only heard cicadas.
Is there a particular purpose to the grapefruit on the inside of your CD?
For this record we kind of got attached to the number twelve. There’s twelve letters in our name, there’s twelve numbers on a clock, there’s twelve colors in a color wheel—one day we needed to find an image for the inside cover of the CD and I had a grapefruit and I cut it open and I noticed that the grapefruit had twelve sections in it.
What about the moth? What’s the significance behind that?
There’s mythology to the moth, but I don’t really want to go into that. I thought the moth was kind of a cool thing to put in there because of the patterns on it. It doesn’t fit in with the significance of the twelve but in a way it’s like a natural pattern that I thought was really interesting and symmetrical. A moth signifies change. Good or bad—just change. There are all kinds of animals that signify this, but I chose moth mostly because my dad actually collected moths. And I really like that moth, mostly because of the colors. There’s not many moths that have black and red.
Why didn’t you want that in there? Change is cool. People need to be more accepting of change.
It’s one of those things where you put your beliefs into something and put it in the public, but the public may not agree with it. And when they don’t agree with it they’ll tell you and you just feel kind of shitty for believing something. That’s kind of what religion’s like too. Things clash and people get upset. That’s why it’s hard to answer these questions and that’s why I’m answering them the way I am.

TALBOT TAGORA WITH BIPOLAR BEAR, HERR JAZZ, PROTECT ME, MASTERS AND JOHNSON AND DUNCAN WILDER JOHNSON ON TUE., AUG. 4, AT L’KEG GALLERY, 311 GLENDALE BLVD., ECHO PARK. 9 PM / $5 / ALL AGES. LKEGGALLERY.COM. TALBOT TAGORA’S LESSONS IN THE WOODS OR A CITY IS OUT NOW ON HARDLY ART. VISIT TALBOT TAGORA AT HARDLYART.COM.

Download: The Moondoggies “Changing”

(from Don’t Be A Stranger out now on Hardly Art)

Moondoggies’ Kevin Murphy—and bandmates Robert Terreberry on bass, Carl Dahlen on drums and Caleb Quick on keys—are hauling their three-part harmonies, finger-picked guitar licks and Rhodes piano south to L.A. from Seattle. It’s an ageless American sound—as casually accidental as it can get. This interview by Christina Nersesian.

You started as kind of a punk band and then you went to Alaska and came back making music with this whole Byrds and Eagles vibe going on—so what happened in Alaska?
Kevin Murphy (guitar/vocals): I moved to Bellingham, which is an hour north of Seattle and I lived there for about a year. It was during a time where our old band the Familiars were dying and I don’t know—we weren’t listening to that kind of music as much. The drummer had hearing problems so he stopped playing the drums and starting playing the banjo. We were just kind of listening to a lot more bluegrass and things like the Band. It was just kinda like—‘I want to get out of this college town and focus on some music on my own.’ It was more about getting myself more disciplined, I suppose. I moved up there because I had nothing else to do. I was interested in Ketchikan because it’s pretty isolated being an island and I had a friend who had a job for me and a place to stay for free. I could save up money and jump on the ferry and ride up there. It seemed like a good opportunity to go see what that place was about.
When you guys started to play the bluegrass-y stuff, were you tapping into anything you heard growing up?
I think things are just coming around full circle. I grew up on the Beatles and Nirvana, definitely. I was discovering a lot of stuff but nothing was very unfamiliar. I just started digging more and more into it. I still like some of the louder stuff that I listened to in high school. I started to really hear a lot of those brilliant, older songs and suddenly you realize you haven’t heard anything and you keep digging.
You guys had a residency at the Blue Moon as you were developing as the Moondoggies—what’s that place like?
That place is a real historic Seattle shit-kicker kind of place. You got the old timers and the hardcore drinkers. It’s one of those places where it feels they should have chicken wire onstage so people wouldn’t hit the musicians with bottles. When you walk in it just smells like old bar. As the Moondoggies, that wasn’t our first show—but that’s where we were playing frequently, unless we got a good spot elsewhere. We kind of cut our teeth on the whole Blue Moon—kind of feeling it out. That’s probably where we played the most for a long time. It was cool because there was nothing pretentious about that venue. You just have a lot of real people and then your friends. There would be people who would come there and just be like, ‘Ah, I can’t stand it—I have to leave!’ But it’s a very genuine good shit-kicker bar. It’s one of those places where you’ll be sitting there joking around and some crazy old drunk lady will just lie down on the floor next to you and start sleeping. We met a lot of old timers who were just like, ‘Yeah, your music really brings me back…’—people being really drunk but also very sincerely letting a lot out. There were never any knife fights there or anything. There was this guy who would always play the harmonica off to the side whenever we played there—even if it’s not in the same key. He’s just jamming out on the harmonica. That guy’s in there every time I go in there. I think he works there but when he’s not working he’s still there. We played a secret show there two weeks ago. We wanted to raise some money for this trip so we just had them throw us on at the end of some other people’s show.
Was harmonica friend there?
Oh yeah—in full effect, too.
How did you guys hook up with Hardly Art? That’s the first label you’ve ever been on, right?
Yeah—actually, there are two people who work there and one of them I had known from when I lived in Bellingham. We had just recorded the album out of our own pocket. I just gave him the CD since he was like, ‘Uh, I heard they might want to hear it.’ So I just gave him the recording—it wasn’t mastered or anything. He calls me later and is like, ‘I think I have good news.’ So I dunno—we were all, ‘Are they sure they got the right band? They probably heard something else.’ Then we went in there and it was just kind of mind blowing. You go and it’s in the Sub Pop office and it’s just insane—they were giving us a tour and we were shaking hands—Mark Arm is there and we shook his hand. We were like ‘Oooh my God!’ And he’s like, ‘Yeah, don’t fuck it up!’ and starts laughing at us. We were just like—‘Aaahhh!’
I guess a lot of people are liking it—you guys got a nod from Rolling Stone. What did that feel like?
We actually went there and we recorded for that Smoking Section blog. They haven’t posted it so maybe it didn’t turn out very good but it felt very strange—another one of those, ‘Uh, we’re not supposed to be here’ kind of moments. It was kinda chaotic in there. You go through security and they take your picture and you have to wear it—I dunno. It’s weird.
Was Sasquatch your first music festival?
The week before we played in Boise at this music festival—Sasquatch was our first big show. I got the email that was like, ‘Hey, you guys want to play Sasquatch?’ and I was like ‘Ah, shit!’ The festival in Boise was called Eagle Island—a very hippie thing. There were people playing Bob Marley songs before us and we thought, ‘Ah we’re going to totally kill the vibe.’ And they kind of hesitated when we first started and then they started doing that where-my-body-takes-me hippie dance.
That’s a pretty good description of the hippie dance.
It’s like—‘I don’t decide where to move my body, the music decides!’
Are you guys excited to play a Fourth of July show? That’s going to be a real crowd bringer.
Yeah, it’s going to be real cool. I figured we’ll have at least one show where there will be people. I don’t know how I feel about being in L.A. on the fourth though because I’m used to blowing up fireworks and doing a barbeque and stuff. I’m more worried about the Michael Jackson riots. I actually told someone I was going to L.A. and they were like, ‘Well, be careful of the Michael Jackson fans mourning right now.’ I’m not really worried. What does he think is going to happen there? People just running through the streets? ‘Michaaaael! Nooo!’
I think everyone’s sort of flocked to Santa Barbara to the ranch so as long as you manage you bypass them coming down the coast, I think you’ll be okay.
I’m gonna try and find it. Dress up like Peter Pan and hang out.

WHEN YOU AWAKE AND FILTER PRESENT THE MOONDOGGIES WITH DAWES AND DEER TICK ON SAT., JULY 4, AT SPACELAND, 1717 SILVERLAKE BLVD., SILVERLAKE. 8:30 PM / $10-$12 / 21+. CLUBSPACELAND.COM. THE MOONDOGGIES’ DON’T BE A STRANGER IS OUT NOW ON HARDLY ART. VISIT THE MOONDOGGIES AT MYSPACE.COM/THEMOONDOGGIES.

(from She’s the Dutchess, He’s the Duke on Hardly Art)

Seattle duo the Dutchess and the Duke take a little Intelligence and a little Fe Fi Fo Fum to make songs so tall, you gotta look up. Kimberly Morrison speaks just before a surely therapeutic tour with King Khan and BBQ. This interview by Vanessa Gonzalez.

You and Jesse [Lortz] have known one another since high school. Do you remember how your initial bond was forged?
Kimberly Morrison: I was going out with a friend of his, and he always told me about his friend Jesse. He said that Jesse was really mean, but if I didn’t get mad about it then he would like me. It was kinda weird. The guy’s name was Chris, and he made it out to be a big deal. He was like ‘Okay, you’re going to meet Jesse, but just be cool…okay?’ I was just like ‘What?’ I don’t know why he was making it out to seem so scary. But Jesse came over to my house, and I’m kind of a cluttery person, we went to my room and he’s all, ‘THIS IS FUCKING DISGUSTING…WE’RE GONNA CLEAN YOUR ROOM RIGHT NOW!’ This is how I met Jesse. He cleaned my room.
I heard he liked to cross-dress back then. Was this just an excuse to go through your clothes?
I didn’t know about that. But it doesn’t surprise me in the least.
He has that lyric in ‘Back To Me’ about dressing up like a chick.
Oh! I don’t know what that’s about. You’d have to ask him.
He says that you’ve always been ahead of him musically.
He was really caught up in that whole early ‘90s San Francisco scene, like the Mummies, Supercharger, the Phantom Surfers. It was all he would listen to. He was also really into Nirvana, but he didn’t get into Love or the Beach Boys or anything for a really long time. When we used to work together we would drive around listening to music, singing along, and I tried to play Pet Sounds for him one day and he was just like ‘Ugh, I just don’t like this.’ Now he totally loves it. My favorite band is Love, and he was always like, ‘Ugh, I’m not into that.’ Then one day he left me a Myspace comment that said ‘I finally get Love.’ and I was just like, ‘Oooooo, my little boy’s growing up!’ For the longest time he wouldn’t listen to anything. It was just surf and garage, but he finally blossomed.
What do you think the Jesse from back then would have thought of the Dutchess and the Duke?
He probably would’ve would’ve said ‘This shit’s gay.’ But he’s so different from how he was back then. He’s grown up so much. I mean we all have. My God, that was like fifteen years ago.
I read that you took your time recording the new album: She’s The Dutchess, He’s The Duke, and you recorded your former band the Flying Dutchmen with a recorder hanging from the ceiling. How would you compare those processes? Is hanging a recorder from the ceiling something you still consider a viable option?
For certain music. For the Flying Dutchmen it worked, because it had so much energy, and the lack of musicianship is what the band was. We used to tape our practices all the time, and sometimes we’d listen to the practice tape and be like, ‘Oh man, this is rad.’ So when we were going to put our record out, we didn’t know anyone with a four track or anything, and we liked our practice tapes, so we just did it that way. But the music between those two bands is totally, totally different. So it was nice to spend more time working on the songs, and getting them to sound the way that we wanted, because we could do that.
Between the two of you, there’s been a variety of musical territory covered in previous bands. Should audiences expect the Dutchess and the Duke to take a different turn for the next album?
It’s kind of just an evolution for us because we’ve been playing for so long, and with each other for so long, and the cool thing about this band is that when it started, we thought it was just going to be like a one off 7’ thing, but then Hardly Art wanted us to do a record, and we’re like, ‘Okay, cool.’ But when we first started we were talking about getting a little cigarette box amp and going on tour, just renting a car and not have to worry about anybody. Our first show we had Oscar from the Gris Gris play third guitar with us down in San Francisco. Then in Seattle, our friend Ruben Mendez, who plays in the Coconut Coolouts was playing with us, and then when we got offered the tour with the Fleet Foxes, Oscar couldn’t go, and Ruben couldn’t go so we said, ‘Fine, we’ll just figure out how to sing and play the leads at the same time.’ On the next tour with James Jackson Toth, our percussionist, Donnie, couldn’t come. So that was the first time we played just the two of us. We figured that playing electric, without percussion, would just be too much. We decided to just play acoustic, and we wouldn’t have to bring amps, and then we could bring a car instead of our van.
How did your acoustic debut go?
We had NEVER played acoustic. There’s acoustic guitar on the record, but we never even TRIED practicing. We were just like, ‘Alright, we’ll just get some acoustic guitars.’ So we get down to San Francisco and played a little at our friends house the night before the show, and we’re like, ‘Oh yeah, this is gonna be cool.’ When we got to the club, the sound guy was REALLY MAD we didn’t have pick-ups. And we’re like, ‘Well, sorry dude, but we DON’T… so you’re gonna just have to deal with it. Isn’t that your fucking job?’ We did an okay sound check, but it sucked. And when we actually started to play it was just feeding back so bad, after the second song we said, ‘This is stupid!’ So we put our microphones all the way at the back of the stage and played without them. And the whole room of people just shut up and listened to us. It was so cool. Some girl actually sneezed during a song and people shushed her. It was pretty funny. But after that we were like, ‘Fuck that, why would we ever sound check again? Sound check isn’t fun. IT SUCKS! Especially if every time they’re gonna be a dick about it. We’ll just make them not work.’
Did you get down in the audience and sit with people?
We hardly ever played on stage. It was too awkward. It would be dumb for us to be standing up there without microphones. And the crowds were a lot smaller than on the Fleet Foxes tour, so it was nice. We could move around, and walk up to people. We’d get places and walk around and say, ‘Oh, that corner looks nice,’ and we’d just play in the corner. Sometimes we’d set up bar stools in the middle of the room. Sometimes we’d start in front of the stage and then end up walking around to different parts of the bar so that different people could hear us.
Did this approach ever backfire?
We thought it was going to be weird without microphones. But what we found was that the quieter we were, the quieter that everybody else was. Certainly there were shows where people didn’t care, just didn’t want to hear us, but that’s fine, because people that did want to hear us would just get close and be able to enjoy it, and the people that didn’t could have there conversations in the corner or wherever.
Sounds like a campfire scenario.
Yeah, that’s totally how we felt about it. But you know, it’s weird for us to be up on stage anyways. They’re shining lights in your eyes, and you can’t see, and you’re, like, taller than everybody. It’s just awkward. We want to sit and have a bottle of wine while we play, or drink beer, or we screw our songs up and laugh about it, and it’s nicer to just be quieter and just be able to sing to people and walk around. We had so many people walk up to us after the show and tell us, ‘Wow, that was so intimate. I loved it.’ It sounds really gay or whatever, but it was really cool. It was like, ‘Hey, we’re the same as you, we just have guitars.’
It seems like that tour was more fulfilling—although not as glamorous—than the Fleet Foxes tour.
Definitely. It was really good! And after that we were like, ‘Man, we’re never fuckin’ playing on stage again.’ And then we played a show in Seattle when we got back, at a bigger club, and we’re like, ‘Oh, okay, I guess we’ll have to play electric on the stage at this point.’ And it was strange, but you know—just the way the band has evolved. First not having another guitar player, figuring that out. Then not having a percussionist and making that work. We’re really good at just working things out, just dealing with what we’re given. And I think that we’re going to get some pick ups for our acoustic guitars and just have them D.I.-ed so that we don’t have to bring amps or anything, because we really like the sound of acoustic. Who knows, though? Hopefully one day we’ll get wireless pickups, so we can walk around and have the guitars be amplified like we’re a mariachi band or something.
How was the Fleet Foxes tour for you?
It was… different? It was good but just really weird because the venues were so packed—every show on the tour sold out, and the clubs were over selling because there was a demand. It was like being in a sardine can a lot of the time. I don’t think they even had any idea how big they were blowing up, and it was really weird and hard at times to be on tour with a band that everyone wanted to see, and rightfully so, I love there music, but you know, there was a lot of texting going on while we played, and talking. It was just like, ‘ugh…okay…’
B Jay Womack said ‘The kind of jackasses who come out to see them play with the Fleet Foxes didn’t appreciate what they do.’
Definitely we converted some people, but the fact of the matter is, it was their tour, and we were there to support them. We did our job, and they did theirs.
When you do this upcoming tour with King Khan and BBQ Show, will you have a percussionist?
We will. We’ll be DD&D: The Dutchess and the Duke and Donnie.
But D&D has such a wonderful connotation to it.
We got interviewed in Austin and these guys were like, ‘Our friend Travis wants to know if you named yourself D&D after the game.’ and Jesse’s like, ‘Your friend Travis is an idiot.’
You and Jesse didn’t bond over goblins and sorcery?
More like Rock & Roll High School.

THE DUTCHESS AND THE DUKE WITH KING KHAN & BBQ AND THE FLASH EXPRESS ON MON., NOV. 10, AT THE ECHO, 1822 SUNSET BLVD., ECHO PARK. 8:30 PM / $10-$12 / 18+. ATTHEECHO.COM. THE DUTCHESS AND THE DUKE’S SHE’S THE DUTCHESS, HE’S THE DUKE IS OUT NOW ON HARDLY ART. VISIT THE DUTCHESS AND THE DUKE AT MYSPACE.COM/THEDUTCHESSANDTHEDUKE.