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.

Even the occasional visitor to this site may have detected traces of my crazy-ass metal tendencies, and my favorite band at the moment is Canadian quintet Ion Dissonance, who released their third full-length last month (and whose record Solace [2005] I featured back in January). Minus the Herd (2007) is the best metal album I’ve heard so far this year, precisely because it perfectly encapsulates everything I love about the band: rapid-fire machine-gun riffs, scorched-earth vocals, maniacal time signatures, and one of the finest production jobs to have ever blessed a metal record. It’s also bound to alienate old fans, as the warped pandemonium and mathematical precision of the past has been toned down in favor of head-nodding grooves and structures that resemble actual songs. The addition of new vocalist Kevin McCaughey (of Shaolin) brings more of a hardcore sensibility to the band, further solidifying the sound’s urgent brutality. Anyone with even the slightest interest in metal would do well to get their hands on a copy of this record, and should Ion Dissonance happen to be in your vicinity, by all means cancel any plans you have and witness the group’s live set. They are, quite simply, phenomenal.

Kevin took a few minutes to chat with me recently to shed some insight on the new album and the band’s working methods.

FWM: You guys are like workhorses when it comes to touring. You just returned from the Summer Slaughter tour and are heading back out again in a few weeks for another month of dates across the U.S. What are some of the more memorable experiences from the past month?

KM: Well, I would have to say our first-ever trek to Europe with Through the Eyes of the Dead and Dead to Fall was pretty amazing. It was the first time any of us had been out that way, and to get a chance to visit new and unknown cultures was a blast to us. That was just over a month ago. The most memorable experience I had in the last month had to be being able to tour with some of my favorite metal bands, who we rarely get a chance to see out here in Canada. Seriously, all the bands and dudes on the Summer Slaughter tour were sick, and it was so much fun to spend a month on the road with them.

FWM: Minus the Herd marks a slight transition from the all-engulfing chaos of the past two records to a sound that is more focused and efficient, but no less brutal. I’m sure many longtime fans will complain that you’ve “abandoned your roots” or whatever, but I hear a clear, natural progression from Solace to the newer material, especially on tracks like “Tarnished Trepidation.” Was this a conscious decision on the band’s part to move in this direction? Were you growing tired of the sonic mindfuck that was so dominant in the older stuff?

KM: I wouldn’t say we got tired, we just wanted to expand in a new direction that felt right to us. This time around we wanted to concentrate on writing actual songs. The listener can sit and listen to Minus the Herd in its entirety and not get lost or too tired of trying to dissect what is going on. On the other hand, some fans like when they can’t understand what’s going on until you give each song 25 listens. We just wanted the new record to appeal to an even broader audience than just the tech-freaks out there.

“Tarnished Trepidation” – Ion Dissonance 5:15 (Minus the Herd, Abacus 2007)

FWM: Sonically, the record has a density and clarity that vastly distinguishes it from the previous two. What was it like working with Zeuss at Planet Z studios?

KM: The difference between this recording and previous ones is noticeable the second you press play on your audio system. This album’s production is so thick and meaty – the production on drums is like nothing I have heard before. Everything sounds so natural and heavy. We love that Zeuss was able to bring out the Ion Dissonance “sound” which the band had been searching for ever since Breathing Is Irrelevant (2003) was released a few years back. Working with Zeuss also kind of brought down the stress level on this recording, because from day one he had our complete confidence that Minus the Herd was going to sound like the heaviest Ion album ever put out.

FWM: What’s the writing process like in the band? Is there one person that comes in with a fully-formed skeleton of a tune, or does everyone build upon a seed of an idea organically until it resembles a song? Is there a general feeling of when an idea has run its natural course?

BM: Our songs are written by Sebastien (Chaput, guitarist), Antoine (Lussier, guitarist) and J.F. (Richard, drummer). Basically, we go about writing songs like a lot of bands do. Usually someone brings a riff or a beat to the table, it’s worked around, and when the sound is finally right, we record it. Then we just kind of build onto that and re-work it numerous times until it sounds like a decent song. After that I’ll come in and start hacking away at patterns and lyrics to finalize everything.

FWM: How much does the band rehearse the newer material before it’s presented live or in the studio?

BM: Rehearse? Hmm – maybe not all that much. We were more than ready when we entered the studio this past February. We had recorded the entire album ourselves in Cubase, including dubbed guitars and vocals to get a decent idea of what the final product was going to sound like. We had worked on this pre-production for a few months and practiced with that, so that when we finally got the studio we knew exactly what we wanted and in which direction to go.

FWM: Is there a way that the you “internalize” the timings and changes during the course of a song? In other words, do you guys initially play the song at a slower tempo for practice, or do you count beats in your head while you’re playing?

BM: Well, of course everyone counts the beats in their heads to not lose themselves in the song, but I don’t think we’ve ever slowed it down. It’s pretty much all about practice making perfect. Before we play a song live, we’ll make sure that it’s been practiced numerous times and sits tight enough with all of us before giving it a chance on stage.

FWM: Who are some of your musical or literary influences? I know that ex-vocalist Gabriel (McCaughry) used to front a black metal band, but he always claimed that very little of that affected Ion Dissonance.

BM: In terms of musical influences, there are the obvious for me. Even before I joined Ion Dissonance upon Gabriel’s departure he had been a strong influence on me, along with Alex Erian from Despised Icon. I knew both of them well prior to joining Ion, so when I came along after Gab left, I knew where to turn to seek advice. Other than that, I would have to say that Greg (Puciato) from The Dillinger Escape Plan does quite an amazing job and I look up to him for that.

FWM: Are there any other activities, musical or otherwise, that the band members are involved in while not touring or recording?

BM: Well it depends, really. For example, since I joined full time, we have pretty much spent all of our time writing new material, recording it, or touring, leaving hardly any time for other activities. Basically, this is our job, this is what we do, and this is us. Sure, some of us may occupy ourselves with different activities when we are home for a couple months, but for now, its pretty much touring.

FWM: Bonus question: What’s the one CD (or iPod selection) in the tour van that you’re embarrassed to admit is in there?

BM: Both Circa Survive albums and Fall Out Boy, for sure.

“Of Me… Nobody Is Safe” – Ion Dissonance 2:59 (Minus the Herd, Abacus 2007)

How do you like your dub? Me, I like mine heavy and thick, with a drugged pulse as random particles of reverb and echo cascade off its cavernous walls. My dub of choice has an icy, crystalline shell but a warm, glowing nucleus, and is the ideal aural counterpart to those hazy summer evenings when the pavement is still searing from the afternoon’s sun. So a few years ago when I discovered the music of Deadbeat, alias of Montreal’s Scott Monteith, it was nothing short of a revelation. Monteith’s first outing under this moniker, 2002’s Wild Life Documentaries (released on Germany’s ~Scape label), was a barren landscape of crackling glitches and syrupy bass, heavily indebted to Pole yet blessed with more subtle, organic touches. Something Borrowed, Something Blue (2004) introduced a delicate melodicism to the palette, and the haunting New World Observer (2005) was his strongest and most cohesive work yet. Monteith drops his latest long-player this month titled Journeyman’s Annual (2007), a curious deviation from his brand of monolithic digital dub that features quicker tempos and a focus on rhythm that’s surprisingly danceable, and it’s not difficult to envision some of these new tracks turning a club into a lively, shifting mass of movement.

Monteith was gracious enough to share his thoughts on this new direction in his music, his frame of mind while writing the album, and a few details on his compositional methods.

FWM: You recently went over to Europe for a handful of dates back in March and April. How did the tour go? What was the audience’s response to the new material?

SM: It was excellent, so much so that I’ve decided to relocate to Berlin for the next while. I love Montreal to death, but there really is nothing comparable to the vibrance Berlin has to offer these days in terms of the health of the scene and the creative inspiration that goes along with that. Generally speaking, the feedback to the new material has been great. I’ve had a few critical conversations with people who came either expecting a deeper, dubbier set closer to the older material, or perhaps haven’t heard any of the ~Scape material or didn’t know my stuff at all, and were expecting minimal techno. I think that type of criticism is healthy though, and just something that comes with heading in new directions artisically.

FWM: Journeyman’s Annual sounds like a perfectly logical extension of your work to date, yet I would have never predicted its more dancefloor-oriented direction after the dark and seductive New World Observer. I’m sure you’re going to hear this question a lot, but did this happen naturally, or was there more of a conscious attempt to pull your music in another direction?

SM: A bit of both, actually. Over the last couple of years I’ve come to realize that I much prefer to play in a club setting than theaters or art spaces, which the older material was more conducive to. This has meant that I’ve had to find something that works in a dancefloor context, but I really wasn’t feeling comfortable with any of the more techno-oriented ideas that I was coming up with. Thankfully, the reggae night I’ve been doing in Montreal for the last couple of years has exposed me to a lot of dancehall, and that rhythm structure ended up being a nice fit with the sounds I was using aesthetically, I think.

FWM: “Refund Me,” one of the tracks on your MySpace page, incorporates hip hop in addition to the dancehall touches, which I’ve never heard you experiment with before. Who is Bubbz, and how did that collaboration come together?

I met Bubbz at the Red Bull Music Academy, where I gave a workshop back in October of last year, in Melbourne, Australia. I saw him perform there one night and really liked his flow. I gave him some beats later in the week on a “just see what you can do with this, no pressure” tip, with idea of maybe doing a single together. A few weeks later he sent me the results, I was totally blown away, and immediately decided to add it to the album. I definitely would love to do more stuff with him in the future. We’re going to be doing a short set together on the Red Bull stage at Sonar this year on Thursday, so that’s a nice start anyway.

“Refund Me” – Deadbeat feat. Bubbz 4:21 (Journeyman’s Annual, ~Scape 2007)

FWM: Your previous records have detectable thematic undercurrents to them; for example, Something Borrowed, Something Blue was influenced by your upcoming wedding, while New World Observer addressed Middle East conflicts. Is there a particular ‘theme’ to Journeyman’s Annual?

SM: I’ve spent a lot of time on the road over the last year and a bit, so much so that in the last few months the feeling of homesickness that goes along with traveling took on a completely new dimension, as my sense of where home was exactly got completely muddled in a very existential way. This has presented a lot of new challenges in terms of learning to work in hotel rooms, trying to stay focused and centered emotionally, and not falling into the unhealthy lifestyle that spending so much time in clubs offers up on a silver platter. The feeling of getting home to your own bed, just letting everything go, and being really and truely relaxed is a very precious thing. Not having that can create a lot of emotional struggle and stress, and I think that tension definitely comes through in the music.

On a surface level, I would say the album is an attempt to chart some of the incredible experiences, boh positive and negative, I’ve had over the last while, and celebrate some of the amazing creative connections I’ve made through the various collaborations. I really can’t emphasize enough how motivating it was to recieve all of the vocal tracks and the violin parts from Sophie. Great performances inspire greatness, and I only hope that the beats did their contributions justice.

FWM: New World Observer marked a shift in your sound with the addition of vocals and acoustic instruments. Besides the vocals, what sonic differences can the listener expect with Journeyman’s Annual?

SM: It’s definitely more abrasive, from a sound design point of view. There has always been a darker undercurrent to my ~Scape releases, but as opposed to this stemming from sadness or melancholy at the very least with the previous albums, I’d say this one deals a lot more with anger, frustration, and conversely complete jubilation. The title of the second to last track, “Lonliness and Revelry,” sums up pretty well where my head has been over the course of this album’s completion.

FMW: Can you elaborate on your creative process in composing some of these new tracks? You’ve stated before that you usually create the beats last, but the new material is so much more heavily dominated by rhythm that I would guess the beats came first.

SM: I’ve had to write a lot of new material with the live set in mind, and this has definitely led to the beats becoming more present. I’ve starting to enjoy playing live so much over the last few years that it has really started to affect how I work in the studio. As opposed to methodically going through bar by bar and making tons of edits and applying effects, I tended to mix things out in a more ‘live’ way for this album. Some people might criticize this method, as it tends to produce results that
are less polished, but in the end it was more important for me to present something that was an acurate reflection of how this stuff sounds live than a pristinely arranged, perfectly tweaked studio recording. This is music that was made on the road whenever and wherever the opportunity presented itself, and is intended to mash up bass bins. Hopefully that comes through with the final product.

FWM: Based on some of the gorgeous basslines I’ve heard on your records, my hunches tell me that you’re either a bass player, or are heavily influenced by bass players. Do you have any formal musical training?

SM: I used to play bass in several bands when I was younger, and it’s definitely the instrument I enjoy playing the most and have the most skill at. I listen to a lot of reggae, in fact probably more then anything else when I’m at home, and you can’t have the reggae bug as badly as I do and not be slightly bass-obsessed.

FWM: A few years ago you quit your ‘day job’ with Applied Acoustics Systems to focus on music full-time, which every musician dreams of doing, yet few are able to pull it off. How is it working out for you? How much does touring and remix work help you to live comfortably making music?

SM: It’s going okay. It has its own challenges and benefits like any other job. I’m happy things have worked out up to now and hope they continue to. It’s an extremely volatile industry at this point, and I certainly wouldn’t recommend it for anyone without thick skin and incredible patience. I’ve been very fortunate to work with some excellent labels and a great booking agent, which allows me to concentrate on getting down to the business of actually making music. It’s the only way for me to stay sane, I think.

FWM: This may sound a bit odd, but I find it incredibly difficult to listen to Deadbeat on bright, sunny days – everything from the tempos to the colors and shades of the music just beg for it to be enjoyed at night. Do you think this is just the nature of dub-influenced electronic music, or do you compose with more of a darker, ‘nocturnal’ vibe in mind?

SM: Throw on the Jah Cutta tune [”Gimme a Little Slack”] from the new album the next time you’re grilling up a steak and drinking beers on the patio on a sunny Sunday afternoon and I think you might change your mind about that!

FWM: Who are some artists or bands that have been inspiring you lately?

SM: Kode9 and the Space Ape, The Bug, Modeselektor, Mike Shannon, Ernesto Ferreyra, Chic Miniature, Stephen Beaupré, Hausmeister, Heartthrob, Pole, Monolake, Daniel Meteo, Apparat – I could go on for days. It’s really nice to hear so much interesting techno and housey stuff coming out again, as things got really pretty boring for a while there. I’m looking forward to venturing back into those waters again myself in fact, perhaps under a new moniker though.

FWM: What are your plans for the rest of the year? Will you be venturing into the U.S. for any dates?

SM: No US dates planned for now, but I will be doing the festival rounds in Europe a bit over the summer, and will generally just be trying to keep my head down and write a ton of new music. I think I’ll just be happy once I’ve got things set up in Berlin and have a place that really feels like home again.

“Rock of Ages” – Deadbeat 4:15 (New World Observer, ~Scape 2005)

When I received the Living in Harmony (2007) mixtape from Philadelphia’s Clean Guns last month, I would have never expected that I’d be listening to it on more or less a daily basis for weeks afterward. I reviewed it recently and can confidently re-establish that it really is that good; this is also coming from someone who rarely ever gets excited by mixtapes. The group’s own Zilla Rocca, aka Rap Jack Bauer, has been a frequent presence ’round these internets as of late, but the guy has a marketing strategy that I can get down with: rather than bombard the blogs with flashy promotional flyers and links, he drops insightful and articulate comments that reveal his love for hip hop over anything else. Fresh from 33 Jones interviewed Zilla recently about the new mixtape and Clean Guns’ own label, Beat Garden Entertainment, but I wanted to get his thoughts on the creative process of writing lyrics and constructing beats, which he was more than happy to oblige.

FWM: What is your earliest memory of being affected by hip hop?

ZR: I was first really affected by hip hop when I heard “Method Man” by Wu-Tang. I used to rock that album on cassette every day to grade school but would always fast forward to “Method Man” at some point. I remember feeling like I needed more songs like that; it grabbed me by the throat and didn’t let go until the song ended. The whole Wu album was like that, and I became a diehard fan of theirs to this day. After “Method Man,” I was hooked to hip hop forever as a fan and I probably would’ve stayed just a fan if Nico didn’t start writing, because I honestly didn’t think I could ever be in the same “profession” as Method Man or Biggie or Nas.

FWM: Both you and Nico have known each other for years. When did you begin writing and working together?

ZR: We started at 14 or 15 years old, just writing verses on our own, then calling each other and being like “Yo, listen to this!!?!” We still do that to this day a lot. Then we’d take our raps, get some instrumentals, and go to his sister Janette’s room to record on her karaoke machine – that was our “studio.” Some of the first beats we got on was “Paparazzi” by Xzibit, “Wu Renegades” by Killarmy, “I’m the King” by Royce da 5′9′, and “Bad Meets Evil” Eminem & Royce. We were wack as shit, too!

FWM: Lyrically, your influences are all over the map: I hear a lot of Ghostface, as well as Gift of Gab from Blackalicious, believe it or not. Who are some other emcees, past or present, that inspire you?

ZR: My dream team starting five of MCs is Andre 3000, Nas, Ghostface, Aesop Rock and Common. And Jay-Z, Mos Def, Black Thought, and Brother Ali are off the bench. I used to really study Inspectah Deck when I started writing – no one in Wu-Tang writes a better straight 16 front to back as consistently as him. But everyone I listen to to this day, I take a small piece from them somehow. I’m constantly picking out small traits, whether it be their inflection, flow, rhyme scheme, phrasing, or pauses in between words, and I’ve been doing this for about 10 years. Right now, my dudes are Sean Price, Joell Ortiz and J Dilla – Dilla really knew how to make a beat his own from an MC standpoint. I could list a thousand other MCs and what I’ve taken from their style, piece by piece, but that’s a whole ‘nother interview in itself.

FWM: Do you write on a regular basis as part of your daily routine (for example, in the morning before work, or late at night), or is it pretty much when the inspiration hits (á la Kool G Rap, e.g. “write rhymes in the shower”)? Do you have to have a beat to write to?

ZR: I’m definitely an MC who writes when inspiration hits. And 95% of the time, I need a beat to write to. I can go three weeks without writing anything and then over a four-day span, knock out a 100 bars. I’ve realized that I can’t control inspiration, I can only ride it out when it hits. Otherwise, I’m just wasting ink. I’ve written full songs at 8:45 AM at my job, at 3:00 AM in my room, and in the studio going back and forth with Nico for a couple hours after dinner. If it’s not there though, I don’t force it cause you end up laying down shit that later on you know wasn’t good at the time but you did it anyway.

FWM: A facet of Clean Guns that I’m particularly taken with is the directness of the lyrical content; both you and Nico seem to prefer ruminations on reality and human emotion rather than abstract concept pieces or left-field storytelling. Do you both try to avoid that sort of style?

ZR: We compliment each other so well in that I am the voice of the group that likes abstract shit, weird concepts, funny stories – y’all just haven’t heard them yet! Nico is the straightforward, articulate, reality-based monster that deals with emotions, life experiences, family and friends. We bounce off each other in that aspect and I have no problem writing on more honest topics, like death or relationships or society’s ills. But when I’m in my own lane, I’ll write a song about passing out in a dirty strip club, or the inner workings of a local TV news room, or flip a story about selling drugs while driving a cab for a living. I love Tom Waits for his use of imagination, weird characters and odd stories and I try to incorporate that more in my rhymes and songs. And I love Ghostface, Aesop Rock & Camp Lo for just blacking out on beats and rhyming about pink flamingos and crystal ski masks and banana hydrants or whatever they want to say. It sounds fly and if a beat tells me to spit four bars about abstract left-field fly shit, I’ll throw it in there just to break up the standard 16 bars about one specific, real topic.

FWM: Let’s talk about the production aspect of your role in the group. Which do you most identify with: the producer or the MC? Is there one that you enjoy more?

ZR: I’ve been an MC for about ten years and a producer for about four years. It’s easier to make a beat than to write a rhyme, though. A standard hip hop beat is really, really fucking easy to make: set the BPM anywhere from 77 to 98. Add a fat kick and snare, a thick bass hit, some hi-hats, and a sample or simple two- to four-bar melody and you’re done. But there’s no machine that’s gonna give you a concept to write about, or a button to push that’ll rhyme “cockroach” with “doctor throat.”

As the producer, I’m kind of the dictator in that I’m doing everything I can to get the best song possible, musically and vocally. The actual role of the producer is to make the artist sound their best, not to mug in front of the cameras and wear sunglasses at night while wearing bigger chains than the artist. But now that hip hop producers are bigger than most aritsts, that has became the role of the hip hop producer. People know Dre, Just Blaze, Kanye and Pharrell more than they know some of the artists they’ve worked with. So in Clean Guns and in Beat Garden, if I’m the producer and engineer of a session, I give honest and constructive feedback to everybody because I want the finished song to be its absolute best. And everyone in our camp, from Nico to Triple Nickels, understands that and we handle our business professionally because we all want to make great music.

FWM: Who are some producers that have influenced you?

ZR: As I said, I’m a diehard Wu fan so RZA is a no-brainer. I really like Kanye’s production – it’s mellow and funky. Just Blaze is the king of East Coast bangers, so I study him. I really love Madlib and J Dilla – just the sloppiness and freedom to let the music feel good, whether it’s offbeat or overcompressed or too low or too loud. I love that method of production moreso than the idea that everything has to be placed perfectly and sound impeccable at all times. I love Pete Rock because no one makes simpler beats that stand the test of time, and Dan the Automator, since he uses so many different sounds to sample. And Prince Paul, because he’s fearless as well. Havoc from Mobb Deep is simple but frightening. And El-P because he’s choatic, layered and frightening, and DJ Premier because his tracks bleed hip hop.

FWM: You’ve stated that you never sample from vinyl sources. Are there any personal ‘rules’ that you adhere to when constructing beats? For example, some producers refuse to sample other hip hop records.

ZR: I do have personal rules. I won’t consciously use the same sample someone else did. I won’t take 15 samples off one album. I won’t just sample soul or funk records – it’s too easy to do that. I won’t use obvious loops like the first eight seconds of “Billie Jean” or “Jaws.” I guess my underlying rule is to push myself to be as creative as possible, because like I said, when doing both beats and rhymes, beats are easier to make. So in order to get better, I have to make rules to challenge myself.

FWM: How conscious are you of trying to flip or disguise a sample so as to render it unrecognizable?

ZR: For some samples, the recognizable part is the best part of the record, and no matter how you chop it, it won’t be as hot. Other times, a record has so many pieces that are ridiculous, you can rearrange it and flip it to make it your version. If you heard the sample I used for “Say Goodnight,” you wouldn’t know I used it. But if you heard the sample I did for “These Words I Write,” I jacked the main melody wholesale and arranged it differently. It’s about what feels best and what sounds best. When I heard Just Blaze chop up “Super Freak” for Jay-Z’s “Kingdom Come,” I said to myself, “Ok, you can sample everything and flip it,” because that record has been used to death, and Just made it brand new. I wouldn’t have liked that song if Jay-Z just rapped over “Super Freak.”

“Say Goodnight” – Clean Guns feat. So-S@y 2:46 (Sometimes There Is Trouble, Beat Garden 2006)

FWM: You use Reason 3.0 for your beats, which I’m also familiar with and have been using for years. What are the positives and negatives of using software for your productions? Are there any particular limitations to it? Do you ever wish for the ‘tangibility’ of a sampler and turntable?

ZR: Reason isn’t a pure hip hop device like an MPC is – the sounds on Reason from a drum and bass standpoint aren’t as thick and fat as an analog machine. And it wasn’t made to be a straight hip hop sampler, so the the samplers don’t allow you to do specifically what you want all of the time; you have to work within Reason’s guidelines in that accord. I’ve been thinking about getting both a sampler and turntable a lot recently, just so I can have more options. And I feel like I’ve mastered Reason in the past four years, so it’s time for more tools and more sounds.

FWM: Where do you see Clean Guns and Beat Garden ten years from now?

ZR: Ten years from now, I see us having a vast catalogue with Clean Guns and the entire Beat Garden camp. The listening public has heard about 40% of what Clean
Guns has recorded. We live in the studio. We have so many joints recorded, for mixtapes, EPs, solo albums – we just pick and choose what to put and when to do it. As a company, our tagline is “Many styles. Many styles,” and that’s precisely what the motive is behind making music. So in ten years, we’ll probably have albums that were hardcore hip hop, indie experimental shit, emo shit, instrumental albums, party joints, club bangers, whatever. We just want to keep our heads down, work hard, make great music that people respond to and present it in a professional, eye-catching way. There are already 47 million rappers out there right now, so for the next ten years we’re gonna have to keep separating ourselves by making quality shit that stands out visually as well as musically.

This is a new time for music and music fans – there are more choices than ever. Why should someone buy a Clean Guns record or go to Professor Anarchy’s MySpace page when they’re getting beseiged daily with ads, spam, flyers, invites, mixtapes, etc. from hundreds of other rappers that, honestly, suck ass? I think our best chance is to let people discover us and not push shit on them like a used car salesman: “Here, listen to this, buy this, check this out, check out my boy, check our movement, here’s our clothing line, here’s our DVD.” That seems to be what most cats are doing right now.

I’d rather us make great albums, put on outstanding shows and grab people word of mouth or on tour, and let the name spread in an organic way while still using the internet as a way to be accessible to people.

“These Words I Write” – Clean Guns 4:23 (Sometimes There Is Trouble, Beat Garden 2006)