Now, among discerning music fans, a band like The National is far from obscure. They’ve garnered widespread critical praise over five albums, played on national TV and multiple international festivals, and are even headlining the Hollywood Bowl later this year. But ask your mom, your older sister, the guy who sits next to you at work or the dude from high school you still keep up with, and they probably won’t have a clue who you’re talking about, let alone be able to name a song or recognize Matt Berninger’s trademark baritone.

Yet on the third day at Coachella, playing the second stage right around sundown with the gathered devotees singing along to the soaring “‘Cuz IIIIIIII’m evil” of “Conversation 16,” there was no reason to think they were anything other than the biggest band in the world. Berninger, as unlikely a rock star as any, equipped himself thusly, even entering the crowd during the perennially timely “Mr. November.”

The National were joined on guitar for “Terrible Love” by Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon, but that was only his first stop for the night. Vernon also had the distinction of being one of only two (along with “Runaway” featured rapper Pusha T) guest sports during Kanye West‘s headlining set. If Vernon seemed like an odd choice to work west Yeezy back when their My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy collaboration was announced last year, seeing it in person was another thing entirely. Though undeniably invaluable exposure for Vernon, at no point in the set did West introduce him, or really do anything that would clue in the average Coachellagoer that he was anything other than just an anonymous backup singer (rather than the driving force between an acclaimed act in his own right).

But that’s just Kanye being Kanye, and really, anything else would be kind of disappointing. The lack of surprise guests — rumors ranged from Jay-Z to Nicki Minaj to Rihanna to Katy Perry, and the latter two were both spotted elsewhere at the fest — could be seen as a tribute to West’s ego, but also could be seen as a way to put a greater emphasis on the guys he did get to assist him, rather than the two of them getting lost in a sea of superstars.

Which is not to say that there was anything restrained about his performance. Kanye West in the year 2011 headlining the last day of Coachella demand to be a spectacle, and that’s absolutely what it was, starting with an over-the-top entrance; literally descending from the heavens onto the stage via a crane while performing “Dark Fantasy” (the fact that the one of the most compelling visuals in Coachella history contained lyrics referencing Family Matters will never stop being awesome).

The set broke down into three “Acts,” with Kanye delivering several songs from his latest, and snippets of all of his greatest hits (really, all of them). A string of 808s & Heartbreak songs came along with West defending their existence, saying that even though he realized he wasn’t the greatest singer, he felt strongly enough about the material that he had to get it out there. The set also contained songs which feature both Katy Perry and Rihanna on the recorded versions, as if he were deliberately tinkering with people’s expectations.

The day’s co-headliner were The Strokes, playing the west coast for the first time in years. The set was exactly what you’d predict — lots of stuff from new album Angels, plus all the crowd-pleasing faves from their first three records. The true highlight was the sardonically hilarious onstage banter from Julian Casablancas, who has showed off his sense of humor in the last couple of years in collaborations with Jimmy Fallon and The Lonely Island.

I’m paraphrasing here, but after asking some version of festival cliché “Is it hot enough for you out there?,” he responded, “Cool. On my own dime, I flew out on a private jet, so I don’t really know what goes on out here,” which he followed by clarifying, “Just jesting.” Periodically, he’d also mock generic idiot lead singers by sarcastically (yet enthusiastically) uttering drivel like, “Do you believe in love?”

In proof that reunion shows are getting more and more current, the reconstituted Death From Above 1979 played earlier in the day, grinding through nearly every track of their 2004 modern indie classic You’re a Woman, I’m a Machine. They ended their set by telling the crowd to “stick around for Duran Duran,” which sounds absurd but, yes, Death From Above 1979 were indeed playing the main stage directly before Simon Le Bon and crew. The world is pretty weird(ly great) sometimes.

Other things I saw: LA-bred acts Best Coast and Foster the People play to large audiences (the latter attracted a massive spillover crowd in the Gobi Tent), PJ Harvey gamely tackling the unenviable Strokes/Kanye overlap slot, genial New York City popsters Fun debuting new songs and covering Queen’s “Radio Ga Ga.”

—Albert Ching

As for the festival itself, I would definitely consider it a success. There were at least 10,000 people there, and the layout of the Strip, the set times, and the overall logistics of the festival were superbly executed. I never had a difficult time working from one end of the Strip to the other. When I got hot, I would check out bands in the clubs. I must say here, that I would actually try to get out of the clubs within a half-song of most of these bands who were really, REALLY bad. To me, this element of the show re-enforced the image of Sunset Strip as the Pay to Play capitol of the world, and I think the event would have benefited by adding some of the great bands from the Silverlake/Echo Park scene that is located a mere 5 miles down the road. I walked into The Whiskey for the first time in over ten years, thought to myself, “Wow, they have a great set up, I wish they had good shows here again.” Then some lame rich-kid band from one of the Valleys went into some lame rap-rock crap that drove me back into the street and the heat within 45 seconds.

Nico Vega had a really strong set. I’m not a big fan of their songs which are kind of a second-hand Yeah Yeah Yeahs, but they put on an interesting live show. They held the people who entered to escape the heat, and by the end of their set—which was at the same time as Korn and LMFAO playing the outdoor main stages—they had a packed Roxy totally into singer Aja Volkman’s spastic gypsy dance routines. I caught Japanese legends Glay (23 million records sold in Japan!) at the House of Blues after Ozzy’s set, and they actually had a greater command of their crowd than Ozzy did at the main stage. Of course, the entire crowd was Japanese. I tried walking into the pit, and I felt like I was seven feet tall. People were hanging off the rafters and girls were crying. The band was a cross between Guns and Roses, Jonas Brothers and Queen. I have no idea what they were singing about, since it was entirely in Japanese, but I like to think the songs were about hard drugs and hookers. Sometimes, the audience would wave and move in perfect synchronicity. The lead guitarist looks like a space-age anime Nick Rhodes, but he played that noisy Melt Banana style guitar breaks into his glam boogie foundation. I think I like 2 or 3 songs. One of them I named “Hai Mojito.” It was probably named something else. They yelled it a lot. I hope it doesn’t mean friendship bracelet in Japanese. I’m glad I saw them. It was like traveling to Japan and seeing a show, except that I wasn’t afraid of going to jail for smoking pot in public, because West Hollywood is enlightened, and they don’t arrest people for smoking pot there.

As for the other main stage acts, Korn doesn’t work for me in middle age (mine or theirs), Pepper had an enthusiastic crowd, but I didn’t last 3 songs. Hot women in bikini tops like LMFAO, and that is probably the best thing about that band. I am not embarrassed to say, I like Shwayze; Ok, well, maybe, a little bit. If The Donnas were guys, they wouldn’t have any purpose. Coffee Bean gave out free coffee and Frappacinos all day, which was awesome, so even though I was dehydrating myself, I was still able to maintain a rapid heartbeat. I ate at least a dozen free Soy Joy energy bars, and they didn’t make me sick. I took a box home with me also.

Overall, it was really cool seeing the Sunset Strip shut down, and I think that while the Festival was a success as a draw, I don’t think it will increase traffic to the Sunset Strip, because ultimately nobody wants to deal with high costs for parking or drinks and admission to see bands that aren’t worth the transaction, and unfortunately that’s the majority of the local action. The Roxy actually does a good job with booking good local and national acts, but clubs like The Whiskey and The Key Club I’ll skip until next year’s festival.

—Scott Schultz

Charlyne Yi is a comedienne and musician who has opened for Akron/Family, has had members of Man Man and the Vandals cover her songs, and pees while being interviewed. She does not know who Spike Jones is, has never been high, and is not dating Michael Cera. This interview by Dan Collins.

Tell us about your latest band, Old Lumps.
It’s scary! I feel like that’s one of the more serious bands I’ve been doing, just because we’ve been practicing, and it’s five of us… sorry, I’m out of breath! I’m running upstairs.
Do you work out often?
Lots of weights! Big ones! And now I’m going to pee with you on the phone, because I’m disgusting.
Wow! Okay… so, how would you describe the Old Lumps sound?
Pain! Emotional pain! I’m realizing that most of my songs sound the same now. I’m trying to define each song so they don’t sound like a mass of songs.
You’re also in Chandelier Teeth, and the Glass Beef, and Helen Hunt and the Twisters. How many bands are you in?
Ha ha, I think it’s only five, but the Helen Hunt thing is just random, whenever me and Kate [Micucci] happen to be free. We don’t practice really. They’re bands, but they’re not that serious. These are just like, ‘You want to play music? Okay, let’s do it!’ Helen Hunt and the Twisters haven’t performed in over a year. I think we’ve only performed four times.
Now that your movie career is taking off, do you think you could get Helen Hunt on stage to sing with you guys?
We have an idea that we would have, you know, one of those cardboard cutouts of her? And we thought it would be funny if that was our thing, and then one day when we were playing, she’d be hiding behind the cutout of her and she’d pop out!
You have a project called the Music Scientist, where you record demos at home, and fairly talented bands you hardly know record their own, more fleshed-out versions of those songs and post them on YouTube and whatnot. How did you get that project off the ground?
I don’t know! I wrote a lot of songs, but I don’t actually like singing. I was like, oh, this song would sound so much better if I was a man with a burly voice, or I wish I had more range, like an opera singer. I can’t hit any of these notes that I hear in my head. I can play them out on a piano, but never give the song justice. And so I wrote a song. And this band I listened to on MySpace, Twain, this guy had a really great voice. We didn’t even really know each other, but he had seen me perform, and I liked his music. And so I asked him, and he did it. And after I got one person to agree, I was like, ‘I’m going to ask everyone!’ It’s been pretty cool, to see what people come up with.
Shel Silverstein wrote ‘A Boy Named Sue’ and a bunch of other songs for Johnny Cash. Is there a really famous singer you’d want to write for?
Celine Dion! She has such a good range. I used to sincerely love her as a kid. She goes like ‘whooooooaaa’ a lot! I’d be funny to make her do that too much, where it’s overboard, and people are uncomfortable. I think it’d be really fun to make her sing something really sincere, but something really ridiculous coming out of her mouth. Maybe something really redundant, like ‘I LOOOOVE him! I LOOOOVE him!’ Like twenty times, singing the same thing! Besides that, I just want to hear her say really cheesy stuff, like complimenting a boy. ‘Your skin is so soft and silky, and I want to kiss it! I want to kiss it bad!’
You haven’t snagged Celene Dion yet, but you did have David Quackenbush and Warren Fitzgerald from the Vandals cover one of your songs. Did you know who they were when you got in contact?
No! But David came to a Glass Beef show, and I met him. I was like ‘Oh, I really like their music!’ And I just wrote him. ‘Hey, we’re doing this project, for fun. And there’s no money, and we just give away the song for free. If you have time and you’re into this idea—it shouldn’t feel like homework, it should feel like something you’re actually passionate about—then I want you to do a song.’ And he did it, hee hee! But no, I live in a bubble. I didn’t know who the Vandals were.
Do you identify with John Travolta’s character in The Boy in the Bubble?
I’ve never even heard of it, really.
That’s too bad! We’re all Scientologists at L.A. RECORD. If you had a child with undiagnosed autism who died, what kind of song would you write for his funeral?
I would burn his body, and then I would use it in my coffee and drink it, so we could be one. And I would play ‘Imagine’ by John Lennon, and I’d imagine that he was here with me.
When you were a child, what music did you listen to? What are your primal influences?
I listened to K-Earth 101 a lot! And Elvis. And Queen. But I don’t think I sound like any of that stuff at all. I wish that I could, but I think it’s impossible for me.
Do you get inspiration from other musical comedians, like Spike Jones and Eric Idle?
I didn’t even know Spike Jonze did music! That’s really funny, ha ha!
No, not the director guy! Spike Jones from the thirties. He did ‘Der Fuhrer’s Face.’
Oh, ha ha, I’m way off! I’ve never heard of Spike Jones! I like Loudon Wainwright III. His stuff is a mixture of sincere stuff and comedy, too! And someone else just introduced me to Jonathan Richman, which I think is the same thing. It hits you instantly, and it’s funny, but there’s this undertone of sadness in what he’s singing. I found that really interesting, because when I do music, I like to throw people off by doing something silly and then doing something serious. People are like, ‘Whoa, should I not laugh at this?’
There does seem to be tenderness at the heart of your tunes. You and Kate Micucci might be singing about a booger trying to find its way back to the nose, but it’s sad at the same time.
We did do a weird booger song! I think sometimes me and Kate hide a true song with comedy, because we’re embarrassed of talking about something. That was like a mix of, ‘Oh, let’s sing about this lonely person!’ And we were like, ‘What if it’s a lonely booger?’ And we start laughing, because we were kind of getting depressed about what we’re singing about! It’s sad, but it’s also kind of gross and stupid. It’s fun to not take music too seriously. I think music is a great way to do comedy and still do sincere stuff. And I think comedy can be really sincere, too. It’s fun mixing with that kind of stuff. I have been reading Harpo Speaks, a book that Harpo Marx wrote, and I find him the most interesting guy ever. I starting taking up harp because I was reading that book! Something I related to is that he liked to play music, and back in those days, it didn’t have to always be funny. Like Steve Martin would tap dance, and play banjo, and some of the stuff he was doing wasn’t necessarily hilarious. But I was like, ‘I love to watch this! It’s kind of funny, but I love this song!’
Steve Martin’s Wild and Crazy Guy was one of the funniest comedy albums ever, but the song ‘King Tut’ sucked ass. What’s the secret to making a funny song funny?
I have no idea! My songs I think are kind of funny, but I don’t even know if they are funny. I did this one song where I almost cry in the middle of the song, but I’m not really crying, but I try to trick people into thinking I am, and people start laughing! Nothing about the words is funny—it’s just about the way the song is delivered, and how uncomfortable it is to see someone almost break down in the middle of the song. I’m not sure if my songs are funny, and I don’t understand why people laugh at them! I have no idea.
Steve Martin would open for bands when he was getting his start, like the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and Earl Scruggs. Have you opened for any acts that L.A. RECORD readers might know?
I have. It’s really scary! I’ve opened for Akron/Family, and I’ve opened for Sasha Smith. One time I opened for Man Man, and my set was broken up into two chunks of fifteen minutes. So I opened at the very beginning, and a band played, and it was supposed to be me again, and then Man Man. And when the band went off, they were like, ‘And now, ladies and gentlemen, Man Man!’ And it was supposed to be me next! And my friend from Man Man, Honus, carried me out, and I was like ‘I don’t want to go! People are going to boo me! Last time I went up, there was like 30 people there. Right now there’s hundreds of people who don’t know who I am from the last performance!’ And I go up there, and people are like, ‘Go back to Jersey! Get off the stage!’ And there was this guy who was like ‘I’m going to fuck you up! I’m going to go up there on stage and fuck you up!’ Thank god he didn’t go up there, but they booed me so I couldn’t talk at all! It’s rough sometimes.
Have you ever considered getting revenge by getting a band to open for your stand-up act, and having the audience boo that band?
I’ve thought of other ways to mess with them, in a non-malicious way. I opened for the Akron/Family in New York at the same place, and I thought, ‘I’m at the same place—I’m going to get booed again!’ And I thought if they boo me, I’ll be like, ‘Uh, the Akron/Family didn’t show up today, and so they asked me to fill in for them, and I’ll have to play each instrument alone, but just pretend they’re all playing at the same time. So it might take awhile.’ And so I’d just go do guitar, then go do drums… That was my back-up plan. But I didn’t get booed. So that’s nice!
Who do you think works harder, musicians or comedians?
I think both equally work as hard, just in different ways. Most comedians don’t get paid for 95% of their gigs, if not more! I’ve only been paid like twice in my life. It’s kind of disgusting, the realization that oh, I perform comedy for free—I’m like a big nerd! I just do this out of a hobby! I really like performing, and don’t get paid really! The way the venues work, most musicians get paid for their gigs, even if it’s a couple bucks. They get a cut of the door and stuff usually. But with comedy, you get a reaction with the laughter, and know immediately how you’re doing. With music, at a bar, people will talk over your music, and that kind of shocks! But then there’s the energy of the room. You’re like, ‘I think this is going well, but I have no idea why!’
There’s a lot of press recently about the renaissance in L.A.’s music scene, and we also have a bumper crop of funny comedians nowadays. But those scenes don’t connect nearly enough. How can we bridge that gap?
It’s weird. A lot of musicians I’ve met want to be comedy writers and perform comedy, and a lot of comedians want to perform music. Like my friend Paul Rust, he wanted to be in a band and stuff, and somehow we got mixed into comedy. And my friend from Man Man, he studied script-writing and stuff.
You not only co-wrote the script for Paper Heart, but you co-wrote the score! How did that happen?
Me and Michael Cera had never scored anything, had been writing music just in general, and sending these songs to Nick, the director. And he was like, ‘Why don’t you guys score the movie?’ And we were like, ‘That sounds awesome. But we have no idea how to do that.’ And so through the whole process of filming the movie and editing, me and Michael had separately been writing songs, and we would place them into the editing thing and see how the song would change the scene. And from that we ended up with this guy named Alden Penner from the Unicorns. I had never heard of them, but Michael was a really big fan of them, and sent me a CD of his solo stuff, which is music that Alden had just written in his bedroom. And I was really into that stuff, and so we contacted him and told him what we were doing, and showed him clips. And he was into producing it, and he had never produced a movie score either! So we were all new to this idea, and he flew up from Canada, and we all kind of experimented with the songs and tried to get them in different variations. It was fun!
You seem to have incurred the wrath of thousands of female Michael Cera fans by having a relationship with him.
It’s so strange! I have crushes on characters in movies, but I wouldn’t understand actually hating someone because of that. I don’t think that hate is true, because you can’t hate someone unless you actually know them. These people are crazy! How can you not like someone based on some weird form of jealousy that doesn’t even make sense? And me and Michael aren’t dating, actually, which is stranger. I’ve had people come up to me after shows who are like ‘Oh my gawd! That’s that girl that’s dating Michael!’ And one of them will come up to me and be like, ‘How old are yeeew?’ And I’ll lie to them and say I’m really old, and they’ll be like, ‘Ew, that’s so gross!’ Ha ha, okay!?! And how can they know and like someone if they don’t actually know them, if they only ever see glimpses of characters, or interviews. I’ve gotten weird hate mail regarding Michael. And I wrote them like, ‘Hey, we’re not even dating! I don’t know why you hate me; if it’s because of Michael, we’re not dating, so I guess you don’t hate me anymore?’ And they’ll just write, ‘Fuck you, you fucking bitch!’ I don’t take it personally. They don’t really know me.
You and Michael aren’t dating anymore?
No! How did you know that we were dating, if we were dating? People will say a lot of things! People said that I’m 33, and that was like a big issue, because people were like, ‘Why would a 33-year-old not believe in love in this documentary?’ It’s not even like a true documentary! There’s a lot of misconceptions about who I am and how old I am and who I’m dating. Two people came up to me and said, ‘Oh, where’s your husband?’ I don’t have a husband!
It sucks that people are judging you based on characters you portray! I mean, your breakout role was a stoner in Knocked Up, which isn’t you at all.
I enjoy acting, but I think it’s hard for people to cast me in things, because I don’t really fit a lot of things, and I don’t have much range. I’m not really a great actor. And after that movie, a lot of people wanted me to play a stoner, too. I didn’t know how I played a stoner! I think I did a really bad job, actually. I think I was just tired that day, and I sound like I’m stoned when I’m tired, and I was laughing at nothing! And I’ve never actually even been high.
Paul Reubens had to create a whole stage show for his Pee Wee Herman character before he could evolve past doing little roles in Cheech and Chong films and make his own mark. Do you think Paper Heart is a good way for you to present your best self to the public?
I think our movie has a lot of things I do in normal stage performances. I like mixing reality with fiction—whenever I bring an audience member up and make them do a half-hour show with me, that’s like them playing with me and taking them for this ride. It isn’t real, but it is real, because it’s a real person and they’re really interacting with me. In Paper Heart, I tried to play myself as much as possible, since I am playing a character named Charlyne Yi, and I am interviewing real people. But sometimes I am weird and I don’t come off natural, even when I am being myself. I think this is a good representation of me trying to be myself, ha ha! I don’t know if I always want to be myself in other roles, but I don’t know if I have a choice, because I don’t have range. I wish I had more range. That’d be awesome!

CHARLYNE YI’S PAPER HEART ON FRI., JUNE 25, AT THE L.A. FILM FESTIVAL AT THE LANDMARK 8, 10850 W. PICO BLVD., LOS ANGELES. 5 PM / $12 / ALL AGES. LAFILMFEST.COM. VISIT CHARLYNE YI AT MYSPACE.COM/CHARLYNEYI.

Download: Sunset Rubdown “Idiot Heart”

(from Dragonslayer out Tue., June 23, on Jagjaguwar)

Sunset Rubdown began as a solo project for Wolf Parade‘s Spencer Krug but quickly evolved into a full band . The music veers from carnival-esque grandeur to pin-drop-quiet beauty, centered around Krug’s recurring lyrical themes of myth, legend and fantasy. They are currently touring in support of their newest album, Dragonslayer. Tom Child interviews multi-instrumentalist Michael Doerksen.

When you go into the studio to record with Spencer, are the songs pretty fully worked out at that point? Do you all have a pretty good idea of how it’s going to sound or do you improvise in the studio at all?
Michael Doerksen (guitar/drums): Well, with Dragonslayer, we knew most of the songs. We were playing them live. That was the idea for this record. We’ve worked other ways before and on Dragonslayer there are a few songs that were put together in the studio. The ones we were playing live, they weren’t working without us toying with them a little bit. So it really depends on what we plan to do. We’ve done a little bit of everything. I don’t think we cut anything. There are certain songs we do live that are different from the recording, like “For the Pier” or “Three Colours.” But no, we didn’t cut anything from this. We basically went in with what we had.
How much of a collaboration is it when you all work together? Does Spencer provide a basic framework and you all bring in your own ideas to structure around that?
Yeah, he has the basic framework in mind and we throw ideas on top of that and explore different avenues of where we can take the song. Everyone is working at their limits, musically. Everyone’s really challenged in this band to work and push themselves to grow and to have it be collaborative. I mean, Spencer has a few things in mind like a key melody or a hook, but the rest of it is kind of filled up by the rest of us, and I think what makes it fun for the band is that it’s sometimes hard for the listener to discern how it’s been made. We all switch instruments sometimes so you’re not sure who’s playing what on each song.
How do you view the progression of Sunset Rubdown from album to album? Is Dragonslayer a completely new direction or are you basically building on what has come before?
It’s a little bit of both, in a way. Sometimes I feel like it’s our first record as a band. There was always sort of a discontinuity between how our records sounded and how we sounded as a band, live. We started doing both of those things at the same time. We made a record very early into our playing together. So people come to see us play live and find that it sounds a little bit different from the record because it’s a live band. I think that’s how we all envisioned this project. That’s how bands should work. We’ve gotten closer on this record to presenting what we’re really like as something to come and watch, as a band. Most of the songs are live off the floor, cut a few days after our last show in Chicago. So they’re really fresh and honest and we didn’t really have time to think about the logistics of adding other things. Like on Random Spirit Lover, there are certain songs that we find difficult to play live because we maybe put a little too much into it and we can’t pull it off live. We just can’t get into it because it was cut in the studio. We’re open to all kinds of different ways of working, but this one definitely feels like a more honest representation of how we sound live.
Everyone always talks about how abstract the lyrics are and how hard it is to grasp onto a literal meaning, which is part of what makes the band so fascinating to listen to. But as someone who knows Spencer personally, do you feel like you know what kinds of real-life circumstances his lyrics actually reference, or is it as much a mystery to you as it is for the average listener?
There are certain things in songs where I might know what he’s talking about, or it might reference something that I know, but other times, like you say, he does use a lot of props, with mythology or… That’s one reason why I was really keen to work with him, because his lyrics are so interesting and strong. That’s kind of the best kind of poetry; that kind of work that puts more in your hands to struggle with and wrestle with the meaning, as opposed to it being flat out. But his lyrics are changing too. The lyrics… that’s his domain, for sure.
Spencer has talked about how, despite the fantastic sweep of the lyrics, the band doesn’t care to employ a lot of theatricality onstage. He likes that you all kind of come onstage wearing whatever you’d wear in your daily lives and just play the music. Is that something you enjoy too or is there a part of you that would like to give in to the excesses of bombastic stagecraft?
That’s an interesting question. We had a discussion when we first started the band about that kind of thing. We’d see other bands out there doing very elaborate, uniform kinds of performances, which were cool and some of it has been really interesting, even if it’s just a prop like Deerhoof using that spinning light wheel… the magic rainbow wheel or whatever it is. So there are certain things that are cool about that. We like to put lamps onstage. But as far as dressing up… maybe we’re old fashioned, but that’s not a big concern. The surface level appearance of the band doesn’t really enter into our equation. But there are certain things… like I’ve worn a cape during a show once… for fun. We were in Sweden or something and I just wore a cape onstage. We’re not really strict about it. It could be interesting to wear a certain t-shirt or put a sign up. We’ve toyed with these kinds of ideas, but when it comes down to it, when you’re on the road, you don’t really want to think about that stuff. Just getting through a song is complicated enough and is a challenge, so to think about how you’re coming across on another level visually is a whole other thing. Like Bowie pulled it off brilliantly and he had one of the best guitar players in the world who could don a crazy costume and play to that theatrical model, but we’re not really like that.
What’s it like touring with Sunset Rubdown? 24-hour party or do you keep it pretty serious?
Serious. No, we don’t really fancy ourselves partiers or anything like that. We’re pretty mellow—we like to get a good night’s sleep usually. We have the usual entertainment in the van or we like to sleep during the day. Pretty humdrum, when it comes down to it. Read a book or listen to music or talk. Play a game. No video games though. Actually, we did have a video game in Europe. We had a machine in the van that they rented for us. It was like you were Hercules or someone, fighting Zeus? It was pretty epic.
That seems pretty appropriate.
Actually—you’re right.
If you can think of your favorite Sunset Rubdown show that you’ve played—where was the show and what made it so great for you?
We’ve had some pretty good times in a lot of places, but one time in particular…I think it was our first tour out by ourselves…we had gone out with Frog Eyes and then we were out again just by ourselves which was new to us. It was a memorable tour in that way. But we played in Atlanta at a place called Lenny’s, and the crowd was so incredible. It was a small kind of old man’s bar. They had just got a brand new PA and it sounded amazing and the crowd was incredible. It was the kind of crowd where they’re right in your face and you’re clinking your beers together with them. There’s no stage. It was incredible and we played an incredible show. It was one of our tightest sets. Just because of the energy in that room, I couldn’t forget it.
As a guitar player, who has most influenced your style?
There are a number of players that I’ve been listening to. Neil Young, even John Fahey. Thurston Moore—as a younger guitar player growing up—was a big influence on me. That kind of dirty playing. But I also really like Queen. Brian May’s playing was incredible. Jimmy Page, for how many styles he touched and for how risky his playing was. I think between Jordan and I, we can get a little flashy sometimes. It’s fun. You don’t get a chance to write that kind of solo everyday. And Spencer’s music can really lend itself to complicated playing and really complicated musicianship. It’s a challenge. That’s precisely what I liked about his songwriting. When I saw him play with Wolf Parade when they first started, I thought, ‘I’d really like to play with this guy.’ It’s certainly a challenge. I’d been playing with other bands where the themes were good, the lyrics were strong and the music had a lot of emotion to it, but the music was kind of a Nick Cave orchestra kind of thing. Or I’ve played in completely improvised noise bands. But I came from a blues background—kind of a classic rock background in terms of my guitar playing. So finding someone to write these great pop tunes—it’s definitely fun.
How did you and Spencer meet each other?
Through a friend of a friend; that friend being Arlen from Wolf Parade. I’d been playing in bands with him since I was about 18 in Victoria. We came out here together the same year. We were playing in bands before Wolf Parade formed. I was in a rock band where he was the drummer and Dan and Spencer came to town and formed a band and wanted Arlen. Arlen was quite a sought-after drummer in Victoria. He played in many, many bands, so I didn’t hold it against him. It was a great opportunity. The band I was in folded, but before that we shared the same jam space—this rock band and the newly formed Wolf Parade—and at one point we were switching up and this kind of a jam session—which might arise when musicians get together in the same room and the instruments are on—happened between Spencer and I. We started jamming out on something and he always remembered that. We saw each other around and eventually, when Sunset Rubdown’s first record got some attention and he planned on touring with it, he asked me since we were familiar with each other and he liked my playing. It was kind of a perfect match.
If you had to pick a favorite Sunset Rubdown song, what would it be?
Woah. Um… geez, it’s such a hard question. I’ve never been asked that before. Haven’t even thought about it because they’re all like children. They’ve all got certain characteristics that you enjoy while you’re playing it. And I’ve never gone through a set feeling bored. Some things get me more excited on certain nights, like “The Taming of the Hands.” That’s a really fun one to play. Ferocious. But I like getting on the drum kit and playing “Stadiums and Shrines.” The drums on “The Men Are Called Horsemen…” We haven’t played that in a while. We’ve talked about really redoing it. But yeah, I can’t really… What’s your favorite?
“The Men Are Called Horsemen…” Where do you think you’ll be headed after this, creatively?
Well, I suppose we will put out another record. I don’t know, I can’t say. We definitely haven’t spoken about too much. Actually just today, Spencer told me he wanted to start putting out singles and EPs only strictly. No more records. It seems that putting together an album is quite a task and you can fail and people will still maybe see something that you didn’t see in how it works perfectly as this record in some way that you didn’t even intend or think about. But getting back to the idea of singles and just pumping out songs… it’s an interesting model. I don’t know.
What do you think has inspired him to think about doing that?
I think it’s kind of a practical thing. Like when the song’s finished, you can just get it out there right away instead of having to perform it and sit on it for two years and then put it on a record. Like “Idiot Heart,” for example—we’ve been playing that since we recorded Random Spirit Lover but we decided not to put it on that record. And it’s actually based on one of our very first songs which became “Q-Chord” on the first record. We stripped everything else that we had done on that song and just left Camilla’s playing on the QChord and we came back to it again a year and a half later. So it’s kind of like if a song is ready, you can just get it out. That’s why we recorded that for Daytrotter—just to get it out there so people know it and can enjoy it at the show when they come hear it. It’s nice to be familiar with it.
Wasn’t there a plan to put out a 7″ that had some kind of photography component?
That’s come out already. And I think it came out and sold out. It was a very small pressing…the “Moonface” thing.
So is that the direction you’re heading? That kind of limited-run thing?
I don’t know about limited-run. That was an opportunity that came to us to do that sort of thing. But we’d probably like to see a little more than… what did they print? Like 1500? 500? I forget the number. Or even digitally release things, just pump them out online. We’ve been talking about getting a little more active on the internet on our own terms. None of us are on Facebook or anything. We’re not really that savvy. We don’t have a MySpace for Sunset Rubdown. But we’ve talked about having a little more control over our website, which has been pretty dull. We just post things occasionally. But you know, like Bradford Cox from Deerhunter, he pumps singles out for his Atlas Sound project and that’s a really interesting model. I think it’s really effective and practical for your audience, that kind of interaction. And 7″s and vinyl especially are becoming more and more important, ironically or unexpectedly, and I think that’s going to become a real driving force in the economy of the music industry, as far as making some kind of return for your music. Vinyl is a really good way to go.

SUNSET RUBDOWN WITH ELFIN SADDLE AND WITCHIES ON TUES., JUNE 23, AT THE ECHOPLEX, 1154 GLENDALE BLVD., ECHO PARK. 8 PM / $13-$15 / ALL AGES. ATTHEECHO.COM. SUNSET RUBDOWN’S DRAGONSLAYER RELEASES TUES., JUNE 23, ON JAGJAGUWAR. VISIT SUNSET RUBDOWN AT SUNSETRUBDOWN.NET.

Download: David Serby “Don’t Even Try”

(from Honky Tonk and Vine out now on Harbor Grove)

David Serby was a punk kid in Orange County and then an insurance adjuster in L.A. and took a long time and a lot of lumps to become the country singer he is now. He performs monthly at dark bars with old photos on the walls and he has just released his third album Honky Tonk And Vine. This interview by Chris Ziegler.

If you wrote a song called ‘Blues For An Insurance Adjuster,’ what would it be like?
Oh good Lord. That would pretty much be if I wrote a musical for the movie Office Space. When I was doing insurance I had the back of my cubicle backed up to a big window and I went to my boss and said, ‘Can I take this back thing off because its got this big beautiful window here?’ He said no, so a friend of mine who was next to me brought his little Leatherman tool kit in and hung around ‘til everybody was gone and we took it off and put the back of the cubicle in the storage facility bin back behind a big crate and nobody ever said anything. I don’t think they ever noticed.
What was the most productive creative work you ever got out of those experiences?
I think that you figure out who you are by figuring out who you’re not. You put these clothes on and go, ‘This doesn’t feel right on me.’ When I started working there, my life was completely upside down and that job was really the only thing I had to hold on to. I was probably about six months into that job and my friend who I met there was quitting to go to graduate school back in New York—he said, ‘You hate this job—why don’t you just quit right now and we’ll take three months off and we’ll drive around the country? You can bring a guitar.’ I said, ‘I can’t do it—my life has been a mess for so long. I can’t.’ I was still hanging on to that cliff—I hung on to that cliff for another six years before I actually let go.
Are you more of a risk taker now?
Definitely. It’s a completely different world. I let go of that cliff and I just said, ‘You know what? The game is rigged.’ I don’t want to turn into an anarchist or anything but this whole capitalist system is not really set up to encourage freedom of thought and art. And if that’s what you want to do, as soon as you realize that the system is not set up to really help you or encourage you and that you’re going to have to figure out your own path and make your own rules—as soon as you accept those things, life becomes a hell of a lot easier.
Are these the same sentiments you were talking about in your old punk band?
Kind of. The things I was railing against then—being a cog in a machine and all those teenage things you’re pissed about, like having a number on a social security card and all that bullshit. But you do come full circle. You rail against it and then you graduate from high school—I remember feeling instantly ancient. Just old. And thinking, ‘How did this happen?’ And then it was another 10 or 15 years of realizing that just because I was older doesn’t mean I had to be older. I went to high school in Orange County so that was like in ‘78 and in ‘82 I graduated—there was a lot of great punk rock going on in Orange County at that time. I used to see Mike Ness hanging around. I saw Agent Orange more times than I can count! And the Adolescents and TSOL and all those bands—I saw them in high school gyms, I saw them in Elks Clubs, I saw them at the Lodge in Fullerton—I saw them everywhere. There was a lot of great art happening down there and all of that stuff was cool. But my family had country records and I remember I would play the Johnny Cash Live From San Quentin record all the time and I would listen to a band like X—I remember getting that first X record. I got the first X record and the first Blasters record on the same day and I went to my friend’s house and I put it on her record player and listened to it and just stared at the artwork and was completely blown away by that stuff. That stuff is completely folk music. It’s folk music like it’s people talking about what’s going on in their life and on the street. They’re talking about people who are making it day to day. They’re kind of like historians—especially a band like X, they were just brilliant historians. I love that band.
Guy Clark says you have to leave a space in the song for the guy who’s listening to be like, ‘Hey that’s me…’ Is that something you try to do?
One of the things that I love most about country music is that people identify with it. It’s very common language—a very conversational art form and I think people connect with it because they do see themselves in those songs. If you’ve done that and somebody can listen to a song and recognize themselves in it, then I think you’ve really managed to do something special. That is kind of what I try to do. The thing with country music is that people make fun of it because country music talks about ‘my girlfriend left me, my wife left me, my dog died, my pick-up truck’s broken down…’ But you know what? That shit happens to people! It sounds simple, but it’s not simple—it’s not easy to do that. I remember reading an interview with either Jakob Dylan or Tom Petty—a reviewer wrote about how the songs were all three chords and they were all conversational and how the songs were too simple and he said, ‘Look, if being simple were easy everyone would do it.’ Except for the ones about being in prison—although I’ve been in plenty of metaphorical prisons—I don’t think I’ve ever heard a country song that I haven’t identified with. That’s the brilliance about it.
What’s hard about writing a simple song for you?
You have to pick out the little things. My friend said, ‘My husband is always on the street—he’s always working on his car and he should be in the house working on other stuff, if you know what I mean.’ And I thought, ‘That’s like a universal man-woman experience.’ And I came home and wrote this song ‘Better With My Hands’ about a couple that is falling apart—which I know something about—and a guy who doesn’t know how to talk about what he’s feeling—which I know something about. The fact that I was talking to this woman and she was saying the same thing was happening to her—well, you know, there’s something that I haven’t written about and if it’s happening to me and it’s happening to her then it’s happening to millions of people all over the world. The key is to try and tell it in a fresh original way—it’s tough to be simple when you’re trying to be different.
Harlan Howard would do the same thing—just listen to people talking in a bar.
There’s a song on the record called ‘I Only Smoke When I’m Drinking’ and twice in a week somebody tried to bum a cigarette off of me and both times I said I only smoke when I’m drinking. And the song ‘Permanent Position’—I was talking to my friend at the Cinema Bar about how great it would be if Rod—the guy who owns the Cinema Bar—would pay us to drink beer because that’s pretty much one of our favorite things to do. I’m not the only one who wants to sit in a bar and get paid to drink beer, I’m sure.
What’s the big story you want to tell? What’s on your mind that you want in a song?
That’s a good question. I’m in a good place in my own personal life so I’m kind of looking outward more. The first record had its own story, but for the last two records I kind of moved away from that—what I really want to do is look at other people and their lives. The world needs good art right now—it needs good stories.
What makes you say that?
Well, I don’t know—this place is a wreck. The middle class is disappearing and people are so hypnotized by pop culture that they don’t see it. I look at my sister and her husband who have gone through tough times. I watch people struggle and it seems that it’s people who shouldn’t be struggling. It’s people whose families that for generations, their lot in life has improved—and now this generation, everything has gone backwards for them. There’s a movie called The Interpreter with Sean Penn and Nicole Kidman and there’s a line in that movie—‘There are no more countries, only corporations.’ And it’s that. The corporations don’t give a rat’s ass about the people in this country. It’s the death of the middle class, the Wal-Mart economic model—it’s all that stuff and it’s the effect that stuff is having in people’s lives. That’s what’s interesting to me.
What do you think about that strange kind of split in country? That part of it is so stand-up-for-the-little-guy and yet it’s used to market Wal-Mart and expensive trucks?
I know—I agree with that and I don’t think that it even registers with people. I really don’t and I think it’s the hypnotic effect of pop culture. I went off to Stagecoach a couple weeks ago and there was the Palomino stage and it had some big acts that drew some people over from the main area—the bands had a more independent aesthetic and were more country-based like Dale Watson and Jim Lauderdale. And there were sadly not big crowds for them. I spent almost the whole weekend in front of that stage. Late on Sunday night, the wind kicked up and it was kind of cool and I walked back through the main stage area in the middle of Kid Rock’s set and he was playing a Queen song—I think it was either ‘We Are the Champions’ or ‘We Will Rock You’ and there was supposed to have been 50,000 people in attendance but there wasn’t more than 250 people over at the Palomino stage. At that time I think it was Jim Lauderdale and Dale Watson headlining, who I think are just brilliant contemporary country song writers and the other 49,999 people were over in front of that main stage and it was like a drunken spring break over there. I’m not making a value judgement but it’s completely different from old school country and how that art form was historically approached. It’s more like arena rock and pop music and those two fan bases don’t really cross-pollinate.
Is ‘Get It In Gear’ really about helping a girl get naked photos of herself back from a drug dealer? What happened?
I have no idea what happened to that girl. I knew her many years ago and kinda had a thing for her—kind of like the moth to the flame thing. I met her in junior college. You see those things happening and the signs are not good, but there’s a fascination there and you get to a certain point where you either jump off the cliff or walk back to your car right away.
What’s something you walked away from that you’re glad you left behind?
There was a whole bunch like ten years ago. I chose to go a different way professionally—I chose to go a different way in my relationships and I chose not to wallow in self-pity and depression and to try and use that. There is a tendency to kind of wallow in your bad luck—I think as an artist you probably should do a little of that because that’s how you connect with things, but the key is not getting so destroyed that you can’t do anything. I read an interview with Oliver Stone and he talks about going through a period in his life when he was having substance abuse problems—he said even when he was his drunkest or his most drugged-out or whatever, he got up every day and he wrote. There is a real saving grace in creating art. If you can force yourself to do it when you’re down, it will lead you to the light at the end of the tunnel.
Whenever Harlan Howard went into a bar, he’d always take the barstool closest to the front door—what is your preferred barstool and why?
I would take the farthest barstool from the door—but the one that had the view. I like my bars as dark as possible but I also like to be able to see people come and go. I like to watch people when they don’t know they’re being watched—you get an honest read on what people are doing and how they’re reacting to folks. I love to do that. I told somebody recently that I love to sit in airports when the flight is delayed. I just like to watch people. I might sit by the door but then you gotta turn around—if you’re over there in the back of the bar where you can see the whole deal, that would be my place.

DAVID SERBY ON THUR., JUN. 18, AT THE PIKE, 1836 E. 4TH ST., LONG BEACH. 9 PM / FREE / 21+. PIKELONGBEACH.COM.DAVID SERBY’S HONKY TONK AND VINE IS OUT NOW ON HARBOR GROVE. VISIT DAVID SERBY AT DAVIDSERBY.COM OR MYSPACE.COM/DAVIDSERBY.