Having always had interest in travel guides, road atlases and the idea of treasure maps, I’ve always wanted to see what a story-telling map would look like… where an area is mapped out by past occurrences or situations rather than by its night clubs, restaurants or historical monuments.  Of course it will be a very small production, but hopefully it will give us just a small taste of the textured past that lies ghost-like beneath our feet or outside of our windows. It’s goofy, I know… but I promise it will make sense once it’s put together. We need you and yours to contribute the details.  Please tell us your secrets about all areas surrounding  Echo Park Avenue, 90026.

Please reply with one or more of the following:

1. Brief stories (5-150 words) of events that happened in the area above Sunset surrounding Echo Park Avenue. These can be insignificant or epic stories (The time you spilled your coffee or the time you broke up with your boyfriend). Please be sure to include the following:
a.     Description of Event
b.     Place it occurred (be as specific as possible)

2. Favorite spots (Commercial or Natural, Public or Private). Please include the following:
a.     Type of place
b.     Specific location

3. A description of a regular walk in the area (if you are a regular in this area or if you have been, which roads you have
regularly walked down and at what time of day). Be as specific as possible.

Please respond by Wednesday February 3rd!

— Katie Byron

katiebyron (at) gmail (dot) com
katiebyron.com

Alejandro Cohen wants to put you to sleep. He came to L.A. from Buenos Aires in ‘96 to spin records and stir up dusty dino bones. On May 28th, Ale and friends from L.A.-based collective dublab will take over the Henry Miller Library in Big Sur to create an night of ambient music event aptly titled “Tonalism”—a term Ale appropriated from late-19th-century painters who tried to capture the mood of nature by representing it with misty atmospheres. This interview by Drew Denny.

When did you come up with the concept for Tonalism?
Alejandro Cohen: The first Tonalism happened in 2007, but the idea probably came to me in 2006. My friend Adam, who runs the label Pehr—pehrlabel.com—released a compilation called Tonalism. The idea of the comp was to have music that was meant to fall asleep to when listening to it. From there I thought it’d be fun to do an event where we play music with the same idea in mind. Also at the time I was reading more and more about events that people like La Monte Young, Terry Riley, John Cage and Yoko Ono were having both in the East Coast and the West Coast that had a similar concept to the one behind Tonalism. And from there the main idea came.
The flyer describes the event as an ‘ambient music happening’ but I saw names like Michael Stock—from Part Time Punks—included as well. How did you curate the event? Will everyone be playing ambient music or are you mixing it up?
The music and performers behind Tonalism all share a same sense and taste in music and styles. The live performers, DJs and visual artists are chosen not really based on genres of music, but mostly by having a common understanding on how things should sound, look and feel. So to answer to your question, yes—it is a mix of styles, eras, genres and instrumentation. But at the end all is connected.
Is it true that Brian Eno coined the term ‘ambient music’?
I’m not sure about that. I do believe there’s an artist that presented that concept a few years before Eno did. His name is Douglas Leedy and the record is Entropical Paradise—from 1972. In the liner notes I remember him pretty much presenting the concept of ambient music. It’s a fantastic release consisting of three records, six songs, one on each side.
What does that term mean to you?
It’s just a term. It helps simplify your everyday conversations when you want to refer to a certain feel, emotion or style in music. But it’s not too far off. What most people consider ambient…that’s another thing. It varies greatly, and all of them are valid. To me ambient music is melodies, songs, sounds, compositions or noises that create an environment—it’s not background music, but it doesn’t require for you to listen to it actively… It is somewhere in between those two. At Tonalism many recordings we play aren’t meant to serve that purpose, but we present it in a way that it does.
Where are you from?
I’m originally from Buenos Aires, Argentina, from the neighborhood of Recoleta. I moved to L.A. in August 1996. When I moved to L.A., I ended up in Altadena—it’s a long story—but fortunately I didn’t find myself in the middle of Hollywood surrounded by European students trying to play guitar like Joe Satriani or Pastorius. I was fortunate to meet by pure coincidence—through a Recycler ad for a Volkswagen car—Damon Aaron. He introduced me to Michael Morgan a.k.a. Transistor Cricket, and from there I connected with other people, eventually meeting the folks at KXLU. Back then everything was more isolated—things happened at random a lot more, and mainly because it was before the Internet and Myspace became popular. Post-rock was in its infancy, with Tortoise only having one release, but people were already paying attention. Up in Altadena we really lived in our own world. Personally I fell in love with Further, Summer Hits and affiliated bands, including many that were part of KXLU and the clubs Jabberjaw, the Smell—in the valley—and the Impala Cafe. But it did feel much much smaller than now. You could sense that there were only a handful of people doing this. Silverlake wasn’t what is now, same with Los Feliz. Spaceland was just starting, and I remember the LA Weekly running an article about it. But that’s about it.
What do you think about the radio stations in L.A.? What is the future of Internet radio organizations like dublab?
I don’t really know commercial radio enough to have an opinion. KPFK, KXLU and KCRW are the ones that I’m mostly familiar with. And I think between the three of them, they offer a wide range of music that most cities only wish they could enjoy. Those stations can be quite adventurous in their choices, and that’s great! Internet radio seems to be getting more and more accessible as technology advances in its favor. The number of listeners will probably increase. Hopefully Internet radio will have the reach that FM/AM radio has in terms of accessibility. In regards to programming, I don’t see it departing radically from what FM and AM radio are nowadays in relation to content and options out there. It will probably offer the same type of options that FM and AM radio offers but in more quantity.
When did you start spinning?
I don’t remember when I started—it wasn’t a decision I made consciously. Little by little I started getting more and more involved in events, sometimes playing music, sometimes organizing. After a while I found myself playing records more and more, and that’s what happened. But if I have to give you a rough estimate, I’d say it was around 1998 or so.
Tell me about Languis. What’s your role in that project?
Languis is a band I started with Marcos Chloca in 1997. We released a bunch of records through the years. We toured a bit, and played with a lot of local bands and artists that came through L.A., like Broadcast, and Mouse On Mars. The band is still around—we released a record last year called Fractured through Plug Research. We have some releases planned for this year, but no live shows. Marcos moved on to play with a band called Lower Heaven, so at the moment I’m the main person behind the group.
Tell me about when Languis recorded at the Natural History Museum.
Oh, that was awesome! The natural reverbs sounded so beautiful. It really makes you realize how awful it is having to rely on reverbs from a computer all the time, since most people don’t have access to a room like that or natural echo chambers to record. It’s like watching a movie all your life on a tiny black and white TV, and all of a sudden someone plays that same movie on the big screen from its original film. In other aspects it was also a great experience. We—Languis—were there late at night to record a piece for the Natural History Museum’s Sonic Scenery exhibit. It was such a contrast to how you see the museum during the day. Everything comes to life!
Which is your favorite dinosaur?
I’m not sure—they are all pretty cool. Never went through the dinosaur phase as a kid. If I have to pick one, I’d say the Argentinasaurus, since I’m originally from there.

TONALISM PRESENTED BY DUBLAB WITH MUSIC BY THE DUBLAB SOUNDSYSTEM, WINDY & CARL, PHARAOHS, WHITE RAINBOW, NUDGE, ANDY CABIC, CARLOS NIÑO, MIA DOI TODD AND MANY MORE PLUS JIMMY TAMBORELLO, MICHAEL STOCK, KATIE BYRON, SMALL TOWN TALK, DJ COOL CHRIS AND OTHERS ON THU., MAY 28, AT THE HENRY MILLER LIBRARY, HIGHWAY ONE, BIG SUR. 4:20PM / $20 / ALL AGES. DUBLAB.COM.

—Katie Byron

Download: Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy “I Don’t Belong To Anyone”

(from Beware on Drag City)

Will Oldham is finishing a long streak of interviews in advance of his new Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy album Beware. He speaks a few weeks after a photo shoot at the Figueroa Hotel downtown and will be playing the El Rey tonight. This interview by Katie Byron.

Where are you right now?
At this very second? I’m in a little town called Waimanolo which is to the west of you a few hours.
Where is home?
Home? It’s kind of in Kentucky.
Can we start of with a strange question and talk a little bit about R. Kelly and how you ended up in chapter 15 of Trapped in the Closet?
It’s not really an interesting story. It’s interesting to me, but it’s kinda long and convoluted. I realized that I liked his music when I first listened to it with a focused ear. And I listened with a focused ear when I noticed on the charts that his record Chocolate Factory was selling. And it was the first record that came after his statutory rape charges were made public and it seemed incongruous that somebody would be selling records having been accused of that kind of crime. It’s not the kind of crime that people sweep under the rug that easily normally, so I thought either this is another example of the world being completely fucked or there’s going to be something special on this record. And that’s what I found. There was something special on the record.
Do you feel that it made him into a character or something?
No, that’s not what I mean at all. It was a good record and that’s all I thought about it.
So you didn’t find substance in it that was revealing?
Nope. I don’t know anything about R Kelly. I don’t have any respect for him as a human being. But I like his music a whole lot. I don’t make any assumptions about his life. I don’t know anything about it. I just like his records.
Alright. That’s out of the way. I found some things you’ve said in past interviews fairly profound. I learned about your ritual of having a cassette recorder alarm clock that reminds you in your own voice every morning to write down your dreams. Do you have any new traditions to get stuff done?
No. I need to get a new machine like that. It’s frustrating. I feel like I need a disciplinarian in my life. I look in the back of the paper and see the ads and I don’t think that’s the kind of discipline I need. That’s the only advertisement from anyone offering to inject some discipline into somebody’s life—the people that have these fetishes of being bossed around or having to wear latex or get whipped. And all I want is somebody to make me write my dreams down.
You’re very prolific and you are constantly touring. Do you really need a disciplinarian?
For certain things. Like paying more attention to dreams. That seems like at this point in my life where it’s some kind of outside force because I haven’t found it inside of me in recent times. It’s vaguely frustrating.
Are there any examples of songs you’ve drawn from your cassette-tape alarm-clock dream-writing ritual?
I’m a frayed knot.
You’ve said that you don’t look towards the future and that you live in the present.
I think it’s impossible to distinguish between the past, present and future.
You’ve also shown that you’re concerned with people getting their money’s worth out of your music. Do you grapple with the issue of money and art? How are you conscious of what your audience needs?
I try to put myself in their place and then try to figure out what somebody deserves. In terms of looking towards the future, sometimes people end up deserving what you give them. If you pile a bunch of shit on somebody’s plate, they’re going to become an animal—a disgusting human being. But if you put good stuff on their plate, they’re going to become strong. And that’s who you want to spend tomorrow with. You don’t want to spend tomorrow with a disgusting human being. So it’s trying to think about how to approach something that resembles good. So that the company we keep tomorrow may be rich.
You’re investing in humanity?
I’m investing in my own experience. I don’t have any hope for humanity at large but you can do the whole ‘act locally’ thing.
You take on a lot of different roles. With acting, writing lyrics, living—what’s at the core?
Building the songs is at the core. The way they sound in relationship to the words inside of them. The lyrics are definitely incomplete without some sort of thought-out delivery.
Has your experience as an actor affected other aspects of your creative life? That’s intense psychological training.
I guess but it’s also practical. I guess the psychological side is up to the human being and there’s a practical side to understanding the relationship between a text and a human being. And how a text can be filtered through that human being—through the voice and the body.
You’re also an artist who plays a character. Do you ever feel that you are Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy?
Only when I’m singing.
It feels so believable. With lines like ‘There is hate in my heart,’ it’s undeniable that there is darkness within Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy, but then I’m reading these interviews and you come across as an optimistic and gentle person. Do you enjoy playing the part of Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy?
Singing is one of the best parts of my life. The actual act of it is.
Do you feel separate from Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy?
I guess I’m confused about it sometimes. About which is which.
Do you start your day with hate in your heart?
It depends on the day.
You’re playing Los Osos. You played Henry Miller a couple years back. And I remember seeing you in Point Reyes.
It’s much nicer to do those shows.
It’s that you get all these people to leave their cities for a bit.
Exactly. We might as well all be in the same boat.
Can we talk about Tripping With Caveh—the film where you were recorded having a psychedelic experience on mushrooms?
For me it was an exercise to learn the outer limits of my ability to control my mind and my behavior when under the influence of psychedelics. It was nice. Usually if I were to take psychedelics, I would be more interested in pushing the other direction. In this case it was good to see if I could make the experience entirely internal.
Well—yeah! You’re being video taped!
Exactly. And I’m not interested in sharing my experience with the video audience. Being offered a free trip to a farm in Texas, go-cart rides, swimming pools and mushrooms—you know, I didn’t want to turn that down.
Any aftermath?
No. Nobody has made me more drug video propositions.
You seem to straddle a good balance of creative process, productivity and good living. That’s what a lot of people are struggling with these days—finding that balance. It’s time to develop a sense that the real people who are able to do that are people to look up to.
I would agree with you there. Looking up to human beings that exist on this Earth who have some sense of accountability. Those are the people we should look to as much as possible.
Do you have heroes?
Hundreds of them. I figure you need a hundred heroes because there’s no one, two or three heroes that are gonna have shared circumstances, experience or beliefs with you so that you could pattern a fraction of your behavior on their life, their moves, their actions, their statements. But a hundred or more—just to keep your eyes on. You can usually find your way out of a jam.
Do the heroes remain constant or are they shifting?
They are shifting.
I feel guilty. I want to ask you so many questions but I feel like I know all the answers. You’ve been interviewed so much the past couple months.
I told Drag City if they wanted, I’d do a bunch of interviews and maybe my subconscious expected them to say, ‘No. No. It’s ok.’ But I’m feeling like it was misguided and a wrong decision and I feel like I will be paying for it for a really long time.
You are doing a slew of interviews.
I feel like in doing this slew of interviews—in order to do them, I’ve said things that I didn’t mean. With some of them, I wanted to say, ‘I don’t know the answers to these questions,’ you know? Often times to make the best of the situation I have to make up an answer and you have to stick by that answer.
How many interviews before someone gets confused and frustrated?
Sometimes it just takes one.
I’m not trying to get something good out of you. We’ll work together on this one. I’m worried though. Do you have more interviews lined up?
No, I think this is the last one I’m going to do for a long time. Maybe a year or more.
I hope it isn’t me!
No. No. That would be amazing though—if it was because of you?
I just wanted to share a little bit of a human with this city.
Thank you for your kindness and your open mind.

BONNIE ‘PRINCE’ BILLY WITH WHITE MAGIC ON THUR., APRIL 2., AT THE EL REY THEATRE, 5515 WILSHIRE BLVD., LOS ANGELES. 9 PM / $20 / ALL AGES. GOLDENVOICE.COM. BONNIE ‘PRINCE’ BILLY’S BEWARE IS OUT NOW ON DRAG CITY. VISIT WILL OLDHAM AND BONNIE ‘PRINCE’ BILLY AT DRAGCITY.COM.

Sugar Hair Salon Presents “100,” 100 Square Feet Of 100 LA-Based Artists

Who: Sugar Hair Salon, curated by Adriana Rodriguez, Katie Byron and Maria Gonima, presents “100,” an art exhibition featuring 100 square feet of work by 100 LA-based artists.

What: Known for delivering unique art events and hair styles, Sugar called out to the LA art and music community for its most ambitious exhibition yet. Featuring 100 LA-based artists and collectives, “100″ presents 100 works created within a square foot framework priced at or below $100.

DJ sets be Bebe Deer, oonceoonce and Katie Byron
Live musical performances by Warrior Line, Sister Mantos and more

A book featuring “100″ works will be sold at the opening to benefit Mexicali Rose, a grass roots community organization in Mexicali, Baja Calif., dedicated to providing free access to artistic media and technology for lower income youth.

When: 7:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m. on Friday, Feb. 27, 2009
Where:
Sugar Hair Salon
3022 w sunset blvd.
Los Angeles, CA
Contact: sugarhairsalon@gmail.com

Participating artists include:

Adria Klora
Adrian Bayless
Akiko Bharoocha
Alana Morshead
Alex Scramble
Alison Childs
Andrew Holder
Andy Stolarek
Anel Rodriguez
Anna Oxygen
Barbara Dunphy
Ben Gaines
Ben Gibbs
Bill Main
Breana Kelly
Brian Lotti
Caitie Velasco
Caitlin Irwin
Camille Weiner
Casey Ryder
Conor Collins
Corrine Estrada
Dave Cull
David Browne
Deanna Mustard
Diego Macias
Drew Blood
Drew Selna
Elisa P. Foster
Elissa G
Ezra Buchla
Faith Crawford
From Here to There Collective
Grace Oh
Greg Sheran
India Brookover
Inez Parra
Jennifer Anderson
Jessi Preston
Jessica Pell
Jessica Watkins DeWinter
Jill Larrabee
Jim Mahfood
Jonathan Smith
Joseph Lee Byron
Karla Aguiñiga
Katelyn Hall
Keith Marlow
Kelli Craig
Kevin Willis
Kiana Sassypants
Kyle Kelley
LA Building Club
Larissa James
Liz Browne
Lizzy Jane Klein
Luz Angelica Vasquez
Marie Mingoia
Matthew Lujan
Matthew Muller
Mehran Azma
Mere
Michael Metzger
Michael Totten
Michelle Garakian
Miki Aso
Morgan Parfrey
Nicole Antebi
Nicole Ramos
Oonceoonce
Oscar Santos
Paloma Parfrey
Paul Acerno
Pete Chekvala
Rachel Carr
Rami Kim
Renata Raksha
Robin Breen
Rosalida Medina
Rosalinda Kooyman
Sally Watts
Sandy Hubshman
Sarah Soquel Morhaim
Shannon Cornett
Shaun Koplow
Steve Kim
Sven Barth
Tamala Poljak
Tarra Thompson
Tattiya Kliengklom
Teebs
Theo Jemison
Tiffany Naz Roohani
Tim Forcum
Tim Presley
Tommy T
Travis Shinn
Trevor Tarczynski
Tupac
Vanessa Micale
William Haswell
Yudi Echevarria

katie byron
creative spatial manipulation!
katiebyron.com

(from Object 47 out now on Pink Flag)

Wire has demonstrated something remarkable in the 32 years of intermittent existence following their debut Pink Flag. Though complete individuals with varying tastes and personalities, they’ve managed to remain relatively consistent in membership and carry on with their legacy of innovation. Graham Lewis speaks now about process, decision-making, and creative obsession. This interview by Katie Byron.

You’ve been in this band for over thirty years, so you’ve probably answered every question.
Graham Lewis (bass/vocals): I don’t think that’s actually true. I think it’s quite peculiar. It tends to go in cycles, doesn’t it? There are certain subjects that are touched upon at certain times—within the time frame of what you’re doing at that time. What tends to happen is a generalized myth develops. Perhaps someone says something at the time and then it gets set in concrete. It is funny.
Well, that’s comforting. So we know you live in Sweden currently. How do you feel about Sweden functioning as some sort of utopian model—I’m thinking of all the great benefits citizens get from living there.
God, it certainly helps. The Swedes have the good sense to put into practice democratic socialism. They were able to do this based on the money amassed during the Second World War. What they did was apply that and try to make a society that was more even, really. Consequently when you do look around Sweden, you can actually see that investment in their health—in their teeth and in their education. And of course to realize that, people have to pay tax. They pay a proportionally higher tax than anywhere else. But the people are happy with that if they believe they’re getting value for that and that value is to support those who are less fortunate—those who are less healthy. They see that that makes for better citizens and for better society. I like it for many reasons. It’s also a more equal country with regards to men and women—which I find essential—so that you have a better background of feminism in the country, which needs to be there until things are more equal. Through consequence of that you also have a great interest in the upbringing of children, which is absolutely essential because that is your commodity. That’s your future.
It really brings us hope when we can see a model where it is working out.
It’s very interesting with this crisis going on at the moment with the bailout the Federal Reserve is suggesting. I know it hasn’t been confirmed yet. But even that is based on the Swedish model. When the Swedes had their terrible financial crisis, they bought out the debts of the banks and reliquified the market and made money out of it in the end.
Alright—so recent political issues out of the way! Since you’re the main lyricist behind Wire, do you get tired of having to explain the songs?
I’m perfectly willing to stand for what I’ve written.
It seems the songwriting itself makes for good stories.
What often happens is that one gets accused of being opaque and obscure. The dreaded word ‘surrealist’ tends to come up quite often with regards to my writing. When in actual fact, I try to observe things pretty closely. When you do that, things inevitably become stranger than if you just observe them in a very generally sort of sketchy way. It depends which song it is. Some songs are absolute nonsense. But I think nonsense can be very good as well. It’s good if you can provide another layer of ambiguity so as the listener can have their interpretation as well instead of smashing them over the head with something terribly obvious.
I love the writing method where you set up guidelines and systems to break them. The story behind ‘106 Beats That’ is a more interesting story than just an explanation of the meaning behind the lyrics.
In any form of the arts, I have great respect for process because it’s the process that’s really interesting. And the fruits of that process. And after going through that process it becomes something else because you go into the area of marketing and all that other stuff. The art is really about process. My daughter’s just been watching this new David Lynch DVD. Lynch talks about that a lot. That’s what it’s about. It’s about thinking and trying to produce new metaphors, really.
As part of the refusal to stick to rules and obey cycles, do you have any trouble with playing live and having to perform these songs again and again?
We always had a built-in way of dealing with that. Quite often there are pieces that reveal new meanings if they do have deeper meanings. We’re playing live at the moment and what we have to do is come up with an analog for new material. You’re not trying to emulate what is on the record, or at least we’ve never tried to do that. Because the studio experience and the studio sonics are a different way of sculpting the song than when you’re doing it live, which has a greater physical presence. You approach that material in that way. You’ve had the writing process and the recording process where things always change, and then you come out of the other end and you’re looking for an analog for what it is that you’ve done. And then hopefully you come up with a convincing sonic picture for the live performance. And what tends to go with that is taking old material or very old material and having it stand up to a contemporary treatment, so you get a re-reading of the material. You get a re-energization and a reinterpretation of it.
Is there a specific song where you’ve noticed this?
‘Boiling Boy.’ We’ve been playing that live and that’s transformed. It’s not something that has been buried for a long time. But it’s really changed. It has a lot to do with our attitudes to what we’re playing and how we’re playing the new things. Combine that with the fact that we’re playing with a different guitar player. We have Margaret Fiedler playing guitar instead of Bruce Gilbert. So there’s another swerve there. Inevitably there’s a change in emphasis.
For a band that’s been around for 32 years, it’s really incredible that the line up has stayed so consistent.
That’s something that wasn’t even in question until 2004 when Bruce resigned. He just didn’t want to do it anymore. And he didn’t really care to explain why either. What we did is we got on with the material and we got on with the recording and we made the records and they sounded fine to us.
Did your songwriting method change then?
I think it always changes. There are certain aspects to it that are consistent. One of which is that I always carry a notebook. Always. And I write down anything that I come across of interest—what I hear or what I’ve read.
You do get a sense of an inspired self in your lyrics. Maybe we can tell you’re carrying a notebook. It doesn’t seem like this stuff just comes from out of nowhere.
Well, sometimes it does! On another level, I wish I had a lot more dreams where the work actually writes itself. I’m ready to take inspiration anywhere, really. Wherever it comes from.
What’s the first song you wrote for Wire?
‘Lowdown.’
Was the first line of ‘Lowdown’ the first line written?
I think it was the first line. That’s something else that I think is interesting. You know, when you’re writing text, one can often produce the punchline. When you’ve got the punchline, you can build the rest. That’s great. Otherwise you find yourself searching for the punchline if there’s going to be one. ‘Lowdown’ is pretty straightforward. It’s quite peculiar because in a way it’s a song about process and it’s very much about being creative and projecting ideas ahead of you. Saying it’s prophetic is a little strong, but that’s what we try to do. It’s definitely what we’re conscious of. That’s our attitude. To try and change and move along. Keep changing.
In a way, that really did set the tone for the next thirty years then.
In a sense. 32 years later, I’m pleased with its relevance. It does sum up a lot of the attitude the three of us that went to art college had. We were very specific about the things we liked and we’d move along on the things we didn’t like
You’re still working on visual art projects and installation. Is visual art is still important to you?
I try and do as much relevant stuff and am as flexible as possible, really. It’s still the thing about trying to find the right medium for ideas, and some areas are easier to get into than others. But the visual aspect of work is still very important to me. I still practice. I don’t make a living out of it but that doesn’t really bother me as long as I can pay the rent otherwise. It’s fantastic when one does get opportunities. I was involved with collaboration here in Sweden. We had a huge video installation with surround sound a couple years ago. Those opportunities do not come that often.
What’s your link between the audio and the visual?
A lot of the time, I write words and the words try to describe the visual, and then from that one gets to another area. If I can’t see it in my mind, I can’t make it. It’s very visually based for me.
So what about your work as a fashion designer? How did this work into your artistic goals?
I ended up doing a degree in fashion because it was the department that had the best tutors who could get me the best deal. If I did the course work, I could do whatever I wanted. I got into college doing other things but I resented what I thought were petty restrictions. At the time it was so long ago. In the early ‘70s there was no such thing as media, and coming from pop it was art. I found that the pictures I might have painted if I felt that I could paint—I was too young to have anything to paint, but those images translated pretty well into what I developed which was the very large t-shirt which was ideal for making large images. As it happened it fell together. It went well. I got an introduction to a world of photography and High Street. I was very interested in mass production. How to make one and then many. Turned out that the fashion department was a great place to be. We had great teachers. Brian Harris. Brian did the beautiful calligraphy for the inner sleeve of 154. He was somebody who worked in lots of different media. He didn’t get hung up on one. And when you have mentors like that, you can’t go wrong. He’d say it doesn’t matter what you do unless you do it fucking well. It’s a 24/7 activity and not a hobby. These links were starting to happen. They first manifest in the early Roxy music where you actually had collaboration between design, music and imagination where everything is integrated. And noise of course.
How confident were you in decisions you had to make in the beginning of the band?
With regards to career, absolutely hopeless. We made some stunning mistakes. And we were helped at times by a couple of managers who we might have hoped for more from. We were a group of individuals but on top of that you have three people who are creative and writing. We always had an incredible amount of intentions. That was what it was about. At times we were unmanageable, but at other times we could have really used the support that was lacking. We were on the edge of sizable success on a couple of different occasions and we managed to walk away from it each time.
Let’s use ‘Pink Flag’ as an example.
I had a dream. I wrote the text. I gave it to Colin who wrote the music. Then we brought it in to rehearsal and Wire-ized it and played it. And it became an extremely important piece. When we got to the situation where we had enough material for an LP, we were asked initially if we wanted to make a few singles and that wasn’t what we were interested in. We wanted to make this piece. This body of work. And obviously when that process became real, we put our thoughts into the graphics. We got into the graphic zone. Bruce and I came up with an identical sketch. After that it was finding the site and having the image executed.
Anything almost not make that record?
We had written a lot more material and there were a few songs that had been written which appeared on Chairs Missing. It was due to the good shepherding of [producer] Mike Thorne who went through all the tracks and said, ‘Hey, look—I don’t think anyone’s ever done this before. You’re going to have an LP with 21 songs on it.’ You have to understand that we didn’t know anything about recording. We thought they were all the right length. What was important was to put together a coherent body of work. There were things that we thought were so great but we were told that they would be great in a little while.
So what happened when you were pushed towards creating an extended version of ‘Outdoor Miner’ on Chairs Missing?
Let’s put it this way—it wasn’t one of the most comfortable decisions ever made. Bruce was actually incandescent about it. I felt pragmatic about it. I felt it was pretty good the way it was. Mike Thorne’s argument was, ‘If I put this in, it’s going to stand a greater chance.’ And I wanted all of the material to be seen. I think the worst decision made that wasn’t our idea was to put it on this horrible white vinyl, which sounded like shit. That was far worse than the piano solo.
Was there any other song where you were pushed for an extended length?
No that was the only time where there was that issue. We weren’t easily pushed about.
Is there any time when the four of you had a creative link? Were you ever crazy about the same musician, book or artist at the same time?
That’s a difficult one to answer. I would say…probably never. The drummer doesn’t listen to a lot of music. Obviously Bruce and I did a lot of work after Wire and in between Wire simply because we had similar interests and similar artist friends. We had a common currency. In the beginning we had a shared sense of the music coming out of New York in 1975 and 1976 like Jonathan Richman and Patti Smith. That is the time where there was something very consistent. After that, what has always been the case is that there’s a great sense of what is contemporary and that it doesn’t necessarily have to be in the same medium. That’s a strength. It means that people are bringing different things to the table. But I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the longest hiatus 1990 to 2000 was when we hadn’t played guitar in ten years because we had all been making electronic music cause that’s where we were all at. To that list I should add the early solo records Eno made. They were important.
What is it about the idea of pattern recognition and memory that seems to run through all of your work?
I find it essential to living. That’s all there is, really. I had a lot of conversations with a psychiatrist friend of mine. Basically—what have you got? All you have is your narrative and your narrative is your ability to recognize pattern and shapes and forms and numbers and colors. It’s there, isn’t it? All the time. Inescapable.
It’s comforting to realize you work towards a common theme. You can feel proud of a constant idea that haunts you.
There are themes and interests you have, and one can get obsessed with those. You are trying to find another media or another way of more successfully failing in trying to describe it.
Exactly.
So what’s the Echoplex like?
It’s a fairly large venue. Pretty good sound too. They do a really good dub night there every week.
Oh terrific! That’s something we’re all into at the moment. Three or four months ago we were rehearsing before going on the road in Belgium and I shot out and came back with a collection of King Tubby from 1972. You listen to this record and it’s so clear and so transparent. That’s the quality that’s so great. Very inspiring. If they have a good dub night, it sounds like a good place.

WIRE WITH THE MUSLIMS ON TUE., OCT. 14, AT THE ECHOPLEX, 1154 GLENDALE BLVD., ECHO PARK. 8 PM / $20-$22 / 18+. ATTHEECHO.COM. WIRE’S OBJECT 47 IS OUT NOW ON PINK FLAG. VISIT WIRE AT PINKFLAG.COM.