Lucky for us, Brooklyn’s own Marco Benevento seems to enjoy inhabiting his own sound-world.  On his debut Invisible Baby (2008), it’s a place where chalky acoustic pianos collide with bursts of drum accents, a banjo rubs shoulders with globs of distorted electric bass, and using an old film projector for amplification seems right at home next to a drum kit supplemented with old car parts.  Few records of this past year have been as fun to listen to, the listener reeling in anticipation of whatever sonic curveball Benevento has up his sleeve, joined by a devastating rhythm section tighter than a steel cable. To follow-up my initial coverage of the album last week, I asked the pianist ten questions of shaky relevance.

Floodwatchmusic: What is your favorite city - anywhere in the world - to visit?

Marco Benevento: Brooklyn. Frankie’s 457 has the best meatballs in the city! Oh, to visit? Well, I like Seattle a lot – the coffee is insane.  And three of my favorite musicians, Matt Chamberlain, Skerik, and Bill Frisell, all live there.  A lot of musicians I’ve met there are super creative and involved in so much different music, live and in the studio. I guess I could say that about musicians that live in San Francisco, Portland, Boston, Chicago, or Boulder, too. There is definitely a huge spark flying around the world that I feel is hitting a bunch of musicians right now. When I hear my friends’ new music that they’re currently working on I’m just blown away at how different it was from their last, or how different it was when I first met them. Lots of musicians are reshaping the music that they are into, including musicians that they collaborate with.

FWM: Do you have a favorite chord, and if so, which one?

MB: My favorite chord is the one that happens at the right time, in the right place at the right moment, when you had nothing to do with it.

FWM: What is the most bizarre incident you’ve ever witnessed on the road?

MB: Buying a dried-out buffalo scrotum from a place called Tatanka Take Out in Tacoma, Washington.  It’s still hanging from my rearview mirror in my van.  I use it as a cell phone holder – it’s real nice!

FWM: If you could gain a superpower (strength, invisibility, etc), which one would it be and how would you use it?

MB: I think about that frequently.  I mean, why don’t we have super special secret hidden powers? I think I’d have to say the ability to fly.  I know that’s a little run-of-the-mill, but that would make everyone’s life a lot easier with gas prices and airlines charging extra for baggage.  If I can’t have the power to just fly naturally then I’d at least want a jet pack. We need to bring those back – people invented those in the late ‘50s. I can’t believe we haven’t figured out that technology yet.  If you know of anyone involved in making one, please let me know.

FWM: In the film adaptation of your life, which actor - dead or alive - would best play you?

MB: It would have to be some cartoon or furry Muppet, maybe Grover.  He and I have the same Mayan calendar symbol: the purple flying monkey.

FWM: There are ten minutes left before the end of the world.  What do you do in your last final moments?

MB: Wow. I thank Kevin Calabro for his guidance and inspiration.

FWM: What is the one corny song that you feel guilty - or not - for enjoying?

MB: I feel bad for people who don’t like Billy Joel’s “Piano Man.” I mean, come on, folks! Myself? Well, I feel guilty for liking “Piano Man.”

FWM: If you could play in any band in history, which one would it be?

MB: Miles Davis‘ [second] quintet.  It sure would be nice to hang with Tony (Williams), Wayne (Shorter), Miles, and Ron (Carter), not to mention sitting behind a piano with those cats around me would be damn surreal, and mind blowing too.

FWM: What was the first record/cassette/CD you bought as a kid and what are your reactions to it now?

MB: Slippery When Wet (1986). I also had The Big Chill (1983) soundtrack. Still dig Jovi’s rock excellence and the soul of all that Motown.

FWM: What is the biggest misconception that people have about you?

MB: I have no idea. Maybe people think that because I like the song “Piano Man,” I have no idea what I’m doing behind my instrument.  They’re right though.  I don’t know.  I just party.

“Atari” – Marco Benevento 4:12 (Invisible Baby, Hyena 2008)

Those in the Northeast can catch Benevento’s live set at the following locales this fall:

November 7 – Real Art Ways, Hartford, CT
November 8 – Drom, New York, NY
November 10 – The Flynn Center, Burlington, VT
November 11 – Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, NY
November 12 – Cafe 939, Boston, MA
November 13 – Iron Horse, Amherst, MA
November 14 – Narrows Center For The Arts, Fall River, MA
November 16 – World Café Live, Philadelphia, PA

As many visitors to this site are aware, there are a group of us out here in the audioblogosphere who are dedicated to promoting All Things Beat Garden Entertainment, a label helmed by Philly’s own Zilla Rocca and Nico the Beast, and it’s not just because they’re genuinely nice dudes who drop by every now and then to leave a comment. Last month saw the release of Nico’s No Beast So Fierce (2008), a sprawling, 80-minute hip hop monolith riddled with street philosophy, experience, and authenticity – or as Zilla accurately put it, like “The Game’s The Documentary (2005) meets Brother Ali’s Shadows on the Sun (2003) with a hint of Big Pun’s Capital Punishment (1998).” With solid, forward-thinking production handled mostly by Zilla and Alex Wood, it’s easily the label’s most ambitious release to date. To help promote the record, Nico’s been “feeding the beast” by dropping freestyles over two classic beats per week and letting the fans vote on which one he murders better. Fresh recently conducted a thorough and insightful interview with the man over at 33Jones, so rather than retread covered ground, I asked Nico ten random and somewhat irrelevant questions as a supplement. Prepare to get beasted.

Floodwatchmusic: What is the biggest misconception that people have about you?

Nico the Beast: I would say that, right now, I get molded in that class of “white rappers” trying to fit in. This is a misconception among those who first meet me. But I deal with, and have dealt with, too many dope MCs, white or black, that know me and understand that I’m just a monster MC, not just a good white rapper.

FWM: Blastmaster KRS-One said that every MC remembers the first verse that they ever wrote for the rest of their lives. Do you remember the first lines you wrote, and if so, what were they?

NB: Yes sir, I do remember my first rap. I was on some Canibus shit back in 98. I think I remember the first eight, so here they go:

Renegades of black shade persuade to invade the earth wit nuclear raids.
Bloody blades engraved with the mark of Satan’s grave behave brave.
Like slaves being whipped by forms of hate.
Insane like the pain of this rap game.
Emcees get slain from their backs up through their brain.
You heard of change of the estranged stage of the plague of human rage?

Yea, I know, kinda simple. But at fifteen and in a time where Wu-Tang and Canibus were the best thing in hip-hop – outside of Biggie, obviously – that’s the way I wrote for my first verse. I guess you can say I got worse over the years [smirks].

FWM: What is the one corny song that you feel guilty for enjoying?

NB: You know what, cuz? The one song that I felt when it dropped was that Gnarls Barkley “Crazy” joint. No guilt in saying that either – that shit was catchy. Cee-Lo’s voice is dope as hell. Plus the hook and beat is hook, line, and sinker when you put it together.

FWM: Which producer - dead or alive - would you most want to collaborate with on a full-length?

NB: Dead, the obvious answer is Dilla. End of story on that one. Alive, I’m a huge fan of Premo, Havoc, and Alchemist. As you can tell by my beat selections (mostly piano with heavy drums), dark beats with a story already to them before I even write are my cup of tea.

FWM: What is your favorite dinner that you like to serve?

NB: Well, anybody who knows me knows that I’m a husky Italian from South Philly. So my favorite meal is chicken parmigiana with some angel hair spaghetti and a good homemade meatball. In some outstanding gravy, not sauce.

FWM: If you could gain a superpower (strength, invisibility, etc), which one would it be and how would you use it?

NB: Any power? Man, I’m gonna get in trouble for this one, but fuck it – any man who says they don’t want X-ray vision is a goddamn liar [laughs]. I can be politically correct and say Spidey senses or some shit and that I would save the world. But let’s be realistic, it would take a lot more than one man with superhuman power to save this planet, feel me?

FWM: Who is your greatest influence as a lyricist?

NB: Right now, Brother Ali. Dude just has a reason to rhyme. He talks about everything, from his kid, to his personal life with his chick, to dealing with being “abnormal.” I mean, if you can’t feel what he’s saying you must be a zombie. That’s why I approach writing the same way – give people a piece of you every time you go in and they will either relate to you or not. Simple as that.

FWM: There are ten minutes left before the end of the world. What do you do in your last final moments?

NB: I spend every second with my two kids and tell them I love them, and that the final ten minutes of my life are worth more than the past 25 years because it was spent with them.

FWM: Is there a subject, for whatever reason(s), that you refuse to write about and why?

NB: No subject is untouchable, but I prefer to stray away from demeaning chicks. I also never talk about selling drugs – that is something I ain’t never done. I was around cats who did it, but to glorify something that cats do to survive is a cop out in regards to song substance. If you can paint a vivid picture of drug related events that occurred in your life, a la Jay-Z or Biggie, then that’s different. But if all you talk about is flipping coke – come on now, that’s just ridiculous.

FWM: What was the first record/cassette/CD you bought as a kid and what are your reactions to it now?

NB: I remember the first physical cassette I ever bought was Wu-Tang’s Enter The Wu-Tang: 36 Chambers (1993), hence me being a huge Wu fan. But I remember always putting my stereo on record with a Maxell tape running while the radio played new joints. I captured some good shit doing that. So most of my collection was Maxell tapes that I had made off the stereo. My reaction to it now is the same as the day I bought it: love it!

FWM: What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever witnessed at a show or on tour?

NB: Well, being fresh in the pond of hip-hop, I’ve yet to dip my feet into the touring end of the pool. But as far as shows are concerned, the craziest shit I’ve ever seen was actually shit on the underside of a toilet seat. Yeah, I’ve done it in some bad places, but come on, how the fuck did it get under the lid? It was like dude was trying to make a shit sandwich with the seat bottom and the bowl. Nuts, absolutely nuts. I had to laugh, because I was baffled thinking, “How?!?”

“My Life Is Mine” – Nico the Beast 3:48 (No Beast So Fierce, Beat Garden 2008)

Every obsessive, self-respecting music geek has that one record that is so intrinsic in shaping the way they listen to music, it’s practically wired into their DNA. That one record that they’ll blather on about uncontrollably for hours to anyone who’ll listen, and will sing its praises at any available opportunity. In most cases, it’s an album that has been unfairly maligned somehow during the course of music history, and said music geek feels it’s their honorary duty to remedy this by championing the record from the highest elevations. For me, Shudder to Think’s Pony Express Record (1994) is that album, a 54-minute artifact that is so critical to my genetic composition that my kids will one day be humming its songs in their sleep.

I first heard Pony Express Record in the late fall of 1994, a few months after its release date. I was glancing through the featured albums in one of those listening stations at a local record store, and the cryptic cover art intrigued me. I’d like to say that from the first notes of the album I was enraptured, passionately hugging the headphones to my ears for the record’s entire duration, but in all likelihood, I purchased the disc because it was something different and I had always been curious about what the band sounded like. By the fourth or fifth listen a few days later, I realized that I was in the presence of something beyond my then-daily intake of rock, metal, and hip hop staples, something that would completely alter the way my ears would interpret and process sound. I spent the entire winter of ‘95 with Pony Express Record, never tiring of it, letting it accompany me wherever I went. I forcibly pushed on every person I knew, desperately wanting to connect with someone who “got it” like I did, and readying my rapid-fire retorts to the usual first-listen criticisms of “It’s just too weird, it doesn’t make any sense,” and my personal favorite, “The singer sounds too gay for me.” Even still, I experienced a smug satisfaction in the repulsion of others, knowing I could keep Pony Express Record’s treasures all for myself, and that it would remain pure and untainted by the unrefined and undeveloped tastes of the rest of the world. In short, I cherished it like it was my first-born. (When I say “obsessive,” I’m not exaggerating.)

Shudder to Think was formed in the mid-’80s in Washington, DC, comprised of singer/guitarist Craig Wedren, lead guitarist Chris Matthews, bassist Stuart Hill, and drummer Mike Russell. Their early releases on Dischord Records stood out from the DIY punk and hardcore that the label was known for, characterized by an abstract sense of melody, Wedren’s near-operatic falsetto, and large doses of feedback and noise. By the time the group signed to Epic at the cusp of the early-’90s “alternative” explosion, Matthews and Russell had vacated and were replaced by Nathan Larson and ex-Jawbox member Adam Wade, respectively. Pony Express Record was their major label debut, and confounded critics and fans alike: the jagged textures and perplexing song structures were straight out of free jazz and ’70s prog and fusion, yet the melodic content had its foundations in pop, even a bit of hair metal (Wedren was reportedly listening to a lot of Def Leppard at the time). At the time of its release, there was simply nothing like it. Naturally, the album was mostly ignored by the mainstream as it began to accumulate its own cult following. The band’s follow-up, the more listener-friendly 50,000 B.C. (1997) hardly fared better in the sales department, and after dabbling in film and soundtrack work toward the end of the decade, the group disbanded.

I’ve been wanting to thoroughly dissect Pony Express Record since I began this site nearly two years ago, but have always been wary of my own enthusiasm; clouded with rabid infatuation, the autopsy would read like the deafening applause of a lunatic. Then about a month ago, I was checking my Inbox when I happened across an email from an “Adam Wade” thanking me for the kind words I had penned about his work in my Top Five Albums to Air-Drum Along To post. For a guy who used to scrawl the words “ADAM WADE IS GOD” into many a desk during his high school years, this was a pretty significant compliment; it’s rare that I experience the sensation of being ’star-struck’, but given my admiration toward Wade’s contributions to Pony Express Record, I couldn’t help but feel a tad lightheaded. Adam, who currently works as an engineer and music supervisor for an advertising agency in Los Angeles, sympathized with my “truth is in the details” ethos and graciously agreed to participate in an autopsy of sorts and offer his thoughts about the record. I attempted to rein in my gushings about his drumming as best as I could, but inevitably there were occasions where I couldn’t help myself. Before we delved into the meat of the album itself, I asked Adam a few general questions about Pony Express Record.

Floodwatchmusic: So what were the circumstances around your joining the band following the departure of Mike Russell, after you left Jawbox?

Adam Wade: I would have to say they were somewhat dicey. My last tour with Jawbox was actually opening for Shudder, and at the time Jawbox was going through some intense upheaval internally and were very unpleasant to be around, so I tended to hang with the Shudder guys more so than my own band. I like to have fun when I go on tour. I was a huge fan of theirs and we all seemed to get on rather well, plus I was also looking to do something different musically. I felt I had reached my limit with Jawbox and was eager to grow artistically. I suspect they had reached their limit with me as well. It was a very sad thing to leave Jawbox, but thrilling at the same time to know I was going to play with my favorite band.

FWM: The differences in your playing between Novelty (1992) and Pony Express Record seem like light years away from each other. Was it difficult to adjust to the more complex, almost “math-y” time signatures of Shudder to Think after playing relatively straightforward 4/4 material with Jawbox?

AW: Yes, very. After quitting Jawbox I had a couple of months before I could start rehearsing with Shudder. They went off to Europe that spring – 1992, I believe – so I holed myself up in their practice space and proceeded to learn Get Your Goat (1992) and some other older tracks. I would just play along with the record over and over and over again. There was one song I just couldn’t figure out, “Rain Covered Cat.” For some reason I just couldn’t get my head around it, and I think that bummed the guys out. But it’s a cool track, and Mike Russell is a great drummer. His ambidexterity allowed him to play some really remarkable patterns.

FWM: How much of a hand did you have in writing the Pony Express material? Were you directly involved in the writing process, or did the band present the finished songs for you to play over?

AW: Generally, what would happen is Craig or Nathan would have a riff or a chorus and then the four of us would hash it out. I never wrote any parts per se, but I did do my share of arranging.

FWM: Your drums on the record sound huge. How much involvement did you have with the mic’ing and mixing of your kit?

AW: None whatsoever. We can thank OZ [Studios, in Baltimore] owner and engineer Steve Palmeri and mixer Andy Wallace for that. I just hit the drums.

FWM: What are some of your impressions on how Epic treated the band, as far as promotion and attention are concerned? How much did a major-label budget affect the recording process?

AW: All in all, I think Epic did fine by us. Every one there was very attentive and made us feel special. I don’t think we would be having this interview if it weren’t for their efforts. Were there things that could have been done differently? Perhaps. At the time, major label budgets were still fairly sizable and we were able to make very good use of it at OZ. It simply meant you could take a lot more time and be methodical about the whole process, and not worry about the cost of tape and studio time.

FWM: How often do you listen to Pony Express Record?

AW: Maybe once a year or so.

FWM: What are your reactions to it today, nearly fifteen years after its release?

AW: There are parts that bring me great pleasure and satisfaction, and others where, having the benefit of hindsight, I would have played a little differently. To some extent it’s a product of its time: very stripped down guitars, bass, drums, and vocals, but it no way does it feel dated. I don’t think that record will ever sound “dated,” because it seems to occupy it’s own time. I have yet to hear anything that comes even remotely close to sounding like it.

“Hit Liquor”

FWM: Whose idea was it to pick “Hit Liquor” for the single, the label or the band? Listening to it now, in the context of what constitutes “single” material these days, I can’t wrap my head around something this weird dominating the Billboard chart.

AW: I think it was the label that made that call and we more or less went along with it. It’s important to remember that “Hit Liquor” was released previously as a Dischord single. I think Epic thought they were playing it safe by releasing a known quantity to college radio. Atlantic did that previously with Jawbox’s “Savory” and it seemed to work. I think “Hit Liquor” was the first song we recorded in the studio, although I’m not sure. I feel “9 Fingers on You” would have a made a good first single as well. Come out swinging, I always say.

FWM: I remember when I first heard this song I went nuts over the way your kick drum hits were in lockstep with those oddly-syncopated guitar chords, especially during the solo. Did Nathan play all of the solos on the records?

AW: Yeah, he did. They’re probably my favorite thing about the record. As for the kick, it was merely a matter of finding the pocket and sticking to the click. Which is certainly easier said than done.

FWM: You’ve got to help me out with the video for this song. What’s going on with the striped sailor shirts, the sickly-looking dude, and all that raw meat being butchered?

AW: We were at sea, you know, so we had to wear the nautical gear. I can’t claim to have any creative input into that video whatsoever. I remember I did manage to get a nasty case of vertigo during filming. I think it was a combination of being exhausted, in the sun, and on the water all day.

“Gang of $”

FWM: I particularly enjoy how you use nearly every cymbal to keep time on this song, from open hi-hats to the crash ride, not to mention those brief open hi-hat/snare hits you use to accent particular beats.

AW: I think most good drummers instinctively hear in their head what cymbal would fit with a certain part. A lot of how I approached the songs came from trying to emulate a particular feel of another song, and in the case of “Gang of $” there are obvious homages: AC/DC’s “Hell’s Bells” in the chorus and The Stooges‘ “Down on the Street” during other parts in the track. One of the most fun things about Shudder was the challenge of throwing in a reference to some old song, usually a 70’s track, around these way-out riffs. Actually, I ripped that intro beat off of our friend Nick Pellicciotto, who was the drummer for Edsel at the time. He was our sound guy too. That seemed to happen to him a fair amount.

FWM: This was always the cut I used to include on mixtapes for friends, probably because of how “catchy” the chorus was. Do you know where Craig’s inspiration for lyrics came from?

AW: I can’t say for certain, but I think it was a combination of literature, improv, and the occasional acid flashback, and then finding pockets to lay them into.

“9 Fingers on You”

FWM: This song still blows me away. The way you handle that 7/4 into the 13/8 is, if I may be so bold, absolutely brilliant. Was that part tricky to nail?

AW: Well, 7/4 into 13/8 is my trademark time change, really. Um, what part are you talking about?

FWM: Sorry, it’s the change before the “Girl, you get to hustle” line, specifically at 0:17.

AW: That was so much fun to play, as was the whole track in general. The 13/8 part, if I’m not mistaken, was inspired by a Grifters song from the One Sock Missing (1993) LP.

FWM: With the unconventional time signatures like these all over the record, do you feel like the “prog-rock” tag was applicable to the band? I don’t hear King Crimson and Yes so much as I hear “uniquely unparalleled in rock music.” Then again, I have no idea how some people labeled Shudder as “emo,” so I guess it’s all subjective.

AW: That’s very kind of you to say. We certainly never thought of ourselves as “prog” or “emo” or “punk.” We just thought of ourselves as a rock band. I think our only agenda at the time was to not sound like anybody else.

FWM: Video geeks worldwide are begging the question: If you could choose one song from Pony Express to be on the next installment of Guitar Hero, which one would it be?

AW: “9 Fingaaz,” biatch! The guitars are so fucking great. This track is unstoppable.

FWM: Love those double-snare hits you use to conclude the solo, by the way, before the Eddie Van Halen-esque “dive bomb” guitar brings the track to a close.

“9 Fingers on You” – Shudder to Think 2:41 (Pony Express Record, Epic 1994)

“Sweet Year Old”

FWM: Such odd jazz-like chords here; it’s easily one of the more dissonant songs on the record. Any memories of the first time you heard the song, and your means to approach it drum-wise?

AW: Actually, this track proved the most difficult for me to nail. This was that last one to be written and it was finished in the studio. I love the way it turned out in the end and it’s become one of my favorites over the years. It’s very heavy and Beatles-esque. There’s one part in there that I’m particularly proud of, and it was just something unplanned that I did while we were recording: the snare roll just before the beginning of the second verse [at 1:33]. Everyone loved it so we kept it in there.

FWM: Your ride cymbal here sounds phenomenal – you’re not still endorsed by Sabian, are you?

AW: Nope. And I can’t imagine how you would come to the conclusion that I endorsed Sabian? It’s not like it was printed in large type in the liner notes on it’s own line – oh, wait.

FWM: The liners indicate that this was one of two songs that Nathan penned for the record, and his songwriting style matches Craig’s remarkably well. Did he join the band before or after you?

AW: Nathan came in about a year before I did, give or take a few months.

“Earthquakes Come Home”

FWM: This track still gives me goosebumps, especially the little cymbal/hi-hat accent/snare routine you do after the line, “The things I like I care for” [at 0:42]. Your drum parts sound so deliberate and calculated on this track, yet remain fluid and natural. Did you have to “memorize” your parts to the extent that you played the songs the exact same way – fills and all – in a live context?

AW: Well, one of the nice things about recording is that it helps to solidify all the parts of a song, so when it came to perform them live you’re essentially performing a cover of the song from the album.

FWM: The loose 6/4 that closes the track (“Heaven is holding out for high scores”) must have felt like a relief of sorts compared to the more complicated signatures found on the record.

AW: I welcomed that part with open arms. It’s gorgeous. I loved it when we played it relatively straight like that.

“Kissi Penny”

FWM: A 17/8 time signature?!? Who is insane enough to write shit like that anymore?

AW: Well, again – my signature signature is a 17/8. Insane enough? That would be Shudder to Think, Mark III, of course!

FWM: What were your thoughts when you first heard this?

AW: I just thought it was a lovely riff. I’m basically a pop guy at heart and that’s what drew me to Shudder initially; their early stuff consisted of these wonderful little pop gems buried under guitars and lo-fi production. So whenever Craig would bring something melodic to the table, I was happy.

FWM: I still have trouble grasping the timing of the snare hits here (following “A kiss on the mouth instead”), and I’ve heard this song easily a thousand times. Did that kind of sense of time come natural to you, or did you have to count the beats in your head?

AW: If you count enough it all starts to come together naturally.

FWM: This is still a beautiful song regardless - personally, it was the last song on the record I fully “digested,” so to speak.

“X-French Tee Shirt”

FWM: In the video for “X-French Tee Shirt,” you’re playing a four-piece kit. Was that your standard set-up, or did you ever play a five-piece?

AW: At that time in DC, a four-piece kit was de rigeur. One of the most liberating things for me as a kid, learning to play the drums, was getting rid of that second tom.

FWM: I’ve heard a lot of drummers say that, and I’ve always wondered why that is. Not being a drummer, obviously, I would think that a five-piece would open up more possibilities for patterns.

AW: Yeah, but that extra tom complicates things. It expands the parameters of the kit, which can be overwhelming sometimes. I suppose it’s a less-is-more kind of thing.

FWM: By the way, what the hell was this video all about, anyway?

AW: I don’t know that the video is about anything, really. The concept of viewing the action via the dumbwaiter was ripped off of this Eastern European short film that director Pedro Romani had seen and was really into. I had watched The Monkees‘ movie Head (1968) during pre-production and was struck by the scene where Davy Jones is in the ballroom, dancing around this giant room that, through some very fast editing, switches from white tux on black background to a black tux on a white background. Shooting it was great fun, actually, and a very heady time indeed. We were flown out to Hollywood and put up in a fancy hotel, then proceeded to make this big rock video on the legendary Van Nuyes soundstage.

FWM: I remember seeing this back in ‘95 on MTV’s 120 Minutes and thinking, “At least the director or editor matched the video of your playing with what was actually played on the record.”

AW: Yeah, we did many, many, many takes.

“No Rm. 9 Kentucky”

FWM: I always felt that this track could have done well as a single, despite its length and the whole “mother fucking her son” thing. Those are brushes you’re using for the track’s entire duration, right?

AW: Yes, brushes up until the break and then I switched to those bundled reed stick things. They’re good for basic snare/hi-hat stuff, but I never really liked the way they sounded on the toms.

FWM: Was it your idea to play with the brushes?

AW: I felt the lighter feel of the song called for it. I didn’t have much experience then with playing brushes, and listening back now, “No Rm. 9 Kentucky” is probably the one song that I wish I could do over the most.

“Chakka”

FWM: I still have no idea what this song is about – do you know what Craig is singing?

AW: Ha! He’s not singing anything! It sort-of like when you try to sing along to a tune that you don’t really know all the lyrics to.

FWM: There is some odd percussion during some of the quieter moments in the song. Was that all done live, or was any of it synthetic?

AW: Them jugs are all 100% real honey.

FWM: You mentioned earlier about playing to a click. Was it used for all of the songs here?

AW: Yeah, I was chained up to a click for all the takes. When the drums were tracked, [producer] Ted Nicely had the click track and my kick drum patched through this thing called a Russian Dragon [”Rushin’ Draggin’”]. It had seventeen LED lights: eight on the right, eight on the left, and one in the center. That way we could tell if the kick was off and by how much. That thing was brutal, yet effective.

“Chakka” – Shudder to Think 4:47 (Pony Express Record, Epic 1994)

“Own Me”

FWM: I love the mock-swagger blues feel on this track. Again, one of Nathan’s songs, but it fits in with Craig’s style of songwriting perfectly.

AW: The straighter, bluesier feel of this one was fun to play, although in hindsight I wish we had put some guitar noise or something over those drum fills.

FWM: This must have been fun one to play live. How many of these songs did the band work into a live context following its release?

AW: We played them all.

“So Into You”

FWM: This song [previously covered here on the site] qualifies as one of my top five greatest covers in rock music. Whose idea was it to interpret this song?

AW: They were actually doing “So Into You” before I joined. They used to do loads of fun covers: America, X, a few others. I wish I got to do more with the band. I would have been happy doing a whole record of them, actually.

FWM: How familiar were you with the original?

AW: I was marginally familiar with Atlanta Rhythm Section’s version. It was one of those songs that was in the air when we were teenagers, growing up listening to FM radio.

FWM: One of the reasons why it’s so effective is because it doesn’t seem like a way to “fill” out the record, which I appreciate; it sounds like you guys genuinely wanted to incorporate the cover into the content and flow of the album, and it works well.

AW: It was just a lot of fun to play, and a bit of a break from all the counting. I love Nathan’s Rites of Spring-meets-Jane’s Addiction guitar parts on the song.

“Trackstar”

FWM: I’ve always thought of “Trackstar” as the centerpiece of Pony Express Record given its length, structure, and the fact that nothing else on the record sounds quite like it. What were your reactions to this track?

AW: This track has some exquisite moments, several of which that were inspired by the last two Talk Talk records [Spirit of Eden (1988) and Laughing Stock (1991)]. Before the band left on their European tour, which was a few months before I joined, Craig asked me if he could pick anything up for me while they were over there. I mentioned The Colour of Spring (1986) and a few other Talk Talk records that weren’t available domestically, and I don’t know, I like to think that we were inspired by them based on my recommendation.

FWM: How much improvisation was going on during that long, spacious midsection?

AW: That whole middle part was improvised during the recording.

FWM: This is the only song I will concede the “prog” tag to, by the way, although “free jazz” would be applicable.

“Full Body Anchor”

FWM: Craig did a similar solo vocal-and-guitar track to conclude Get Your Goat, although “Full Body Anchor” is a little less dissonant than “Funny.” Any thoughts or reactions to this song?

AW: It’s gorgeous.

Big ups to Marc LaGamba for the photos.