It’s not hard to create an average doom record, but it is extremely rare to hear anything that truly understands the form or adds anything new to the scene. Moss, like the best bands of any style, have incredible taste and feel that separates them from lesser imitators and part-timers. Their primitive, ultra-extreme music perhaps sits somewhere between the atmosphere of Sunn O))) and the heaviest riffing of late ’90s Electric Wizard. And like these legendary peers, Moss have a strong following – their material tends to sell out quickly and become collectable.

The early years of Moss spawned rare live performances scattered with limited runs of mainly self-released cassettes and split demos with bands like Wolfmangler, Unearthly Trance and Grief. The band, unsurprisingly, didn’t rush releasing their monolithic debut album, Cthonic Rites. Released on Christmas Day 2005 by Aurora Borealis Records, it was a landmark release for doom metal. Both this debut album and their recent epic follow up, Sub Templum (Rise Above Records), were produced by Jus Oborn, the singer and guitarist of Electric Wizard. Oborn helped the band create an immense sound, which they have continued to develop themselves for their upcoming EP releases Tombs of the Blind Drugged and Eternal Return.

Moss’ own press material neatly summaries the music as ‘heralding the coming of ancient elder Gods through massive slabs of bleakly magnificent, mind-controlling death sludge.’ We spoke to their thoughtful singer Olly at home in the beach-less south coast town of Southampton in Hampshire. He mainly stays in getting stoned with the curtains drawn, but Olly took some time out to talk about horror, the ’70s and the sorry state of heavy metal in the UK.

How did the three of you come together originally?

Me and Dom have been friends for about 13 years now. We always shared the same music interests and stuff like that. And we knew Chris ’cause he worked in HMV. We used to go and buy doom records, Burning Witch, stuff like that. Chris would always comment. We knew he was a drummer so we just asked if he wanted to jam one day. Dom and me were making tapes of just vocals and guitar, noisy, slow stuff. So that was how we got together.

You’re all Hampshire guys.

Yeah, we’re all from the same town. There are not a lot of people in Southampton into the same stuff.

What was the first doom band you got into? Did having Electric Wizard in the bordering county of Dorset have an influence?

The first doom I probably got into was Saint Vitus. I remember hearing one of their songs on the Sunday rock show on BBC One. It was probably about 1994 or something like that. And yeah I got into that and then I found other bands. Electric Wizard were quite local so I saw them a few times in the mid-’90s and late-’90s. Saint Vitus. Electric Wizard. They were the first doom bands I knew.

And Saint Vitus just reformed to play some European dates, which is amazing.

I’ll be going over, yeah. I mean I’m going over to Roadburn Festival [in Holland] and then seeing Saint Vitus on their own again on the Monday after. I’m getting a nice chunk of Saint Vitus. I’m really fucking looking forward to it.

Do you still listen to much doom generally?

To be honest I don’t really listen to really extreme stuff nowadays. A lot of extreme doom really bores me. To work for me it’s got to be really heavy on atmosphere. That’s the main thing for me these days. That’s what grabs you and what draws you in. A few years ago I used to love stuff like Burning Witch and Corrupted. But these days I don’t listen to much extreme doom. I think that’s showing in our new direction. The EP we’ve just done (Tombs of the Blind Drugged) is more song-orientated than the massive 20-minute epics.

You do have a pronounced atmosphere in your music. Are there any conscious ways you try and achieve that?

I guess it comes down to the riffs. The sound and the tone you get from the production. Production is really important to us.

The EP sounds great. Who produced it?

We produced the EP ourselves. The last two albums were produced by Jus Oborn from Electric Wizard. This is our first proper self-production except for the demos, which we mixed and did ourselves.

How did you find doing the EP yourselves?

It was a lot easier than we thought, really. We all sort of picked up tricks from our last two times in the studio. I think we’ve found our way around it now. Yeah, we’re more than happy to take charge of our own sound. It’s what we should be doing, really, and I think it works really well.

I did notice some progression from the recent album (Sub Templum).

Yeah, yeah, there are verses and choruses in there, you know (laughs). It’s still really extreme. It’s still really heavy. I guess we got a little bit bored of doing these massive half-hour songs. There’s only so far you can go with that, really. I think we’ve done it all (laughs).

Do you spend a long time working out the songs generally?

The funny thing is, for this upcoming EP we pretty much wrote the songs in one night. Dom flew back from Canada and that night we went straight over to the studio. We didn’t have a plan or anything. We just wrote them and recorded them the next day. So yeah it was totally spontaneous but it worked. I think it’s probably the best stuff we’ve done. It sounds really planned and rehearsed but it isn’t really.

It’s heavy! Some of the longer songs you’ve done in the past must have taken more preparation?

Yeah, the stuff on Sub Templum we spent a good four months banging out again and again. Honing it. Perfecting it. And this time it was a lot more off the cuff. I think it works out really well. We’re more than happy with it.

Did you pick much up about creating a mammoth sound in the studio from Jus Oborn’s producing?

Oh yeah, definitely. I mean Jus isn’t really a producer himself. Everything he knows he picked up from all his experience being in the studio. He’s sort of passing on sacred knowledge (laughs). He’s a good mate and those two albums wouldn’t have sounded the way they did without him. He did help us out a lot, getting the atmospheres and vibes we really wanted.

And the other doom legend you now work with is Lee Dorrian (Napalm Death, Cathedral and founder of the cult doom and prog label Rise Above Records).

We’ve been in contact with Lee now since probably our first couple of demos. I remember giving him a demo at a Cathedral show ages ago. And we get an E-mail a couple of weeks later saying he’d been listening to it with a mate. They were getting stoned to it (laughs). And we were really flattered. We did our first album and he liked it and said ‘If you want to do your second album on Rise Above then you’re welcome.’ I’ve always respected that label and I’ve always liked the records that they’ve done. It’s stayed with the doom genre despite not everything being strictly doom. It’s a good heavy label to be on. And I’d rather be on an English label than something else.

Do you have any interest in the general metal scene in the UK at all?

I don’t really pay attention to it. Metal in this day and age is the furthest thing from my mind. It really is. I’m just not interested in it all. These days I listen to a lot of prog rock. I listen to a lot of ’60s mod bands and a lot of soul. I don’t think I’ve bought a metal album this year yet. I haven’t totally abandoned it, but modern metal? Not at all. Not interested!

Do you guys smoke a lot when writing and recording?

We don’t stop. We smoke all the fucking time. I suppose you could say we’re cursed! But really, we do smoke all the time. I can’t think of a day for the last few years where I haven’t smoked something.

Although it’s not that obvious, your sound and general vibe is quite ’70s inspired, isn’t it?

Yeah, ’70s horror and ’70s production techniques. Recently we brought an organ into the band. It’s a big old vintage ’70s organ with old amplifiers. It’s like something from Deep Purple. It’s great. And yeah, I pay more attention to ’70s stuff than pretty much anything else.

I love that decade, too. Why was the ’70s so cool do you think?

It’s weird. The occult was really big back then. And everything just sounded purer. When the ’80s came ‘round all the prog bands became shit. Production went crap. Everyone suddenly got a tinny sound and all these horrible digital synths came in. It just all went to shit really. The ’60s and ’70s are just really pure decades with innovation and new sounds. And they didn’t lose track. I can’t think of anything today that recreates that properly. It’s just a really big influence on us.

Are there any movies from then you would particularly recommend?

I can definitely recommend a film called Ich, Ein Groupie. There are loads of early ’70s prog and heavy metal bands in it. It’s about a girl that goes through the bands and does lots of drugs (laughs). They’re all one-off bands that never did anything else really. Let’s see, Les Frisson Des Vampires by Jean Rollin. That’s a fucking awesome film. Have you seen Suspiria?

Yeah, early Argento is incredible.

It’s not like that but it has similar lighting. Loads of reds everywhere and it’s really psychedelic. That’s an awesome film. It’s about a girl who goes to stay with her cousins but they turn out to be vampires. It’s kind of like a horror comedy but it’s really good. If you go on Electric Wizard’s Myspace page there are loads of awesome films on there. There are so many good films from that era. So many.

You famously don’t play live much. What kind of venue or gig would entice you?

Definitely playing in a cave. Or a cathedral or something like that. Just something out of the norm would suit us down to a tee. So yeah, caves and cathedrals – anything cavernous, grimy and dank. Or gothic. We’re so sick of playing pubs and clubs. The sound you get is shit.

The whole world seems to be pretty doomy right now.

Yeah, I guess we’re all fucked. Everything is really going to shit. The economy is going to shit. The environment is going to shit. Celebrate it, I guess. It’s a good time to be doomed really.

We first came across Young Fathers upon hearing a demo of a tune from Simian Mobile Disco’s forthcoming album. The track, titled “Turn Up The Dial” is a futuristic hip-hop track in the best possible sense and could easily be mistaken for a new Outkast tune. The song is so bass-heavy, danceable and catchy we didn’t know what to do with ourselves. This masterpiece made us seek out more tracks such as “Straight Back On It” and “Bring it Home”, examples of Young Fathers’ playful blend of hip-hop rhymes, R&B melodies, big bassy beats and funky electro. Are these dudes really just some crazy kids from Scotland’s underground hip-hop scene?

Gaining a reputation for their fun, energy-filled and good vibe shows, the trio have been touring most of the UK’s venues before hitting the European festival circuit this summer (where we have a sneaking suspicion they are going to blow some minds). Hopefully somewhere in their busy summer schedule, they will release their debut album.

’SUP sat down on some comfy sofas in the studio and, in between bouts of jokes, laughter and impromptu dancing from KS, we managed to get this out of them. We are pretty damn sure we’ve stumbled on a hidden gem. Check them out and go see them now.

How you guys doing? What have you been up to?

Graham: Really good. We’ve been gigging all over the place. We just finished doing a short tour with Esser.

Ally: We did Leeds, York, Middlesbrough and Glasgow.

Graham: Kinda like the top half of the UK. It was good. Now we’re working away on our stuff.

Have you guys gotten bored of being called ‘the best rap group from Scotland’ yet?

Graham: Nah, it’s great. We love it. We got called it a while ago and then other people latched on to it and it’s spawned from there.

Ally: It’s cool. It’s really not a bad thing.

Does it annoy you though, when people then describe Scottish hip-hop as the same as Australian jazz and other unlikely music?

Graham: Well, no. I don’t really mind. It’s understandable as long as you listen to the music. It could be good if people hear it and then want to listen to more hip-hop from Scotland.

Ally: The thing is the hip-hop scene in Glasgow and Edinburgh is really underground. People think there’s nothing there, but there is.

Graham: A lot of people don’t think there’s any scene, but we came up through it. It is very underground though, so it’s understandable that they don’t know about it. Us coming from Edinburgh know that there have been loads of rap groups before us. It’s no big deal.

Is there a definitive Scottish hip-hop sound?

Graham: No. I think it’s a big melting pot of influences. I don’t think there are many people from up there who sound like us, or there are many bands that we’re like. Everybody’s kind of different. There’s a lot of underground stuff, so there’s more of a scene like that.

KS: At the same time, we’re not just a hip-hop group. Our musicality is so diverse that it feels weird even describing us as that. Even though that’s where our background is, music is so wide now and you’re influenced by so many other things around.

Ally: But we rap.

Graham: Yeah, but we’re not the kind of guys to stick to just hip-hop.

KS: We’re a pop band.

Ally: Hip-hop pop.

You guys met at an under 18-years-old hip-hop night. What are they like?

Graham: It was called Lickshot at the Bongo Club in Edinburgh. They get really rowdy. The sound system they had in there was amazing. It was the kind of noise that made you shit yourself. It was unbelievable. It was run by a Scottish group called the Yard Emcees who put it on for all the young people. It used to have MC and breakdancing competitions, and every week there would be a massive crush to get in.

KS: It was so cool, because at the time it was the only place you could go in the city if you were into hip-hop and you were under 18 years of age.

Graham: There weren’t even any house or dance nights for underage people. That was the only thing. So we came up performing at these shows.

What do you make of the comparisons you guys are getting to people like Spank Rock and Plastic Little and even Outkast?

Ally: That’s just great. I mean, there’s three great artists right there. It’s cool. It’s funny because when we made the album, we didn’t listen to any of that music. We just went in and did it. It was only after it that people started making comparisons. We can understand where it came from.

Graham: I don’t think that we sound the same, but it’s nice to be compared to them. They’re great artists.

I was reading a post on Sub City Radio’s website and someone said about your single “Straight Back On It”, that you had LL Cool J’s egotistical lyricism, but you get away with it.

(Everybody falls around laughing)

Ally: LL COOL J!

Graham: Yeah “Straight Back On It” is a total ego track. It’s a club track but it’s taking the piss out of people who are dancing to it in the club.

KS: It’s looking at things from a different perspective than the typical going out to the club and getting girls.

We’ve spoken about your hip-hop pop style, and the chorus of song “Superpop” is, well exactly that: super pop. But songs like “Straight Back On It” have got this Earth, Wind & Fire undertone in them. What influences your sound?

KS: There are so many influences. If I start listing them then I’m going to be here for ages.

Graham: We all listened to soul and reggae growing up, and then of course being from our generation there was all the hip-hop. We were listening to whatever was in the charts.

Ally: Let’s not forget we all went through that stage of listening to those albums called Bonkers [truly terrible happy hardcore]. Even though none of us liked it, everybody else was listening to it so we bought copies.

KS: What was that track called? “Put A Donk On It”?

Ally: Oooh maaan.

Have you guys managed to quit your jobs yet and do the music full time?

Ally: Well, I’m kinda working. I work in a bar in Edinburgh, so I’m working here and there. But we want music to be our main focus. We’re so nearly there, you know what I mean? You’re kinda half-assed at your job, but you need that bit of money.

Graham: I’m gonna get sacked pretty soon. I work in a library – I hope they don’t read this. I keep taking days off all the time. They’re gonna start noticing soon I think.

KS: I’m still at university, but I’m in my third year. So I’m just thinking of finishing off this year and then focusing completely on the music. I’m doing public relations and media.

Handy. You can do all the band’s PR and stuff.

KS: Yeah! It’s funny with uni, because I’m never normally there and I haven’t really studied that much, but I still seem to manage to pass. It’s a weird institution. I mean, aren’t you meant to be actually good at what you’re studying? I think music needs to be the main priority and what I want to focus on and continue doing. We want to constantly be at the studio.

Ally: You still need money though, so you do all the gigs and interviews that come along so you can get to the next level of music. We want to get to the next level so much.

Graham: Having a job kind of gives you ambition because you want to get out of it. When you are making music it makes you realize how much you want to do it full time.

Talking of stepping up to another level, you’ve just spent the morning with Adidas getting kitted out by them. That must have been nice.

Graham: They took us to JD Sports and they showed us the whole Adidas section and told us to take some stuff.

KS: But ‘Don’t choose any of our competitors’ stuff.’

Graham: It was cool. It was nice to look at the price tag, and then get it for free.

Ally (laughing): Yeah at the till it was like ‘This one’s free, and this is free, and this one is free.’

You guys are obviously having a real laugh. I listened to a Radio 1 interview you did and you were joking and taking the piss out of the questions all the way through. Who’s the funniest?

Graham: I dunno, we all have our moments I think.

KS: I would say—

[Ally’s phone rings and he answers]

Ally: Phone me back. I’m doing an interview.

[The band can’t stop laughing.]

Graham: There you go. Ally’s the funniest.

KS: You set that up!

You have real fun on stage as well. You have little choreographed moves. Who comes up with that?

Ally: It’s all random. If say KS does something at a gig and it’s a bit rad, then we’ll keep it. We come up with stuff in rehearsals as well when we’re having a laugh and we’ll keep the moves in mind.

Graham: We don’t get all serious and think up all these moves to do on stage.

KS (laughing): It’s like, ‘One, two, three, turn. YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!’

Graham: You can tell if you ever see us on stage that it’s nothing serious. We’re not like Michael Jackson. Sometimes you’ll just see KS doing something and think it’s pretty cool and join in.

KS: And in doing the moves it gets the audience involved as well. It gets them dancing and doing the moves back at you.

Have you had any of that famous London indifference at your shows?

Graham: On our first gig everyone was going nuts and we were thinking that playing in London was really cool, but there have been some gigs where they just stand there, texting on their phones and BlackBerries. The weird thing is that after those ones, people will come up and tell you that the show was really good.

KS: We dance on stage because we’re having such a good time and you think they should be, too, because they’re enjoying themselves, but they’re just standing there and I think they’re digesting and analyzing everything that’s going on.

Graham: You can kind of understand that. When I watch a band, I watch every move they make. But once we played a gig and no one was even looking at us and we’re all dancing around. It was weird. It was like a wedding or a DJ or something. Nobody was looking at us. But it was a good feeling seeing everybody dancing to our music like that.

Have you got plans to get a full band behind you when you play live?

Ally: We had one before. We had a full 10-piece band, but it was too much of a hassle. Maybe for big festivals or something like that we were thinking of getting a DJ or two drummers or something like that, like Dananananaykroyd have. I don’t think we’d have a full band though. It’s not needed.

Graham: Or like this guy Ryan we know of who played the Indian tabla drum. That would be cool. Something that gives us a little bit extra.

KS: As Ally was saying, if it’s required. But we’re not going to be standing there doing the same thing. We’re always striving hard to push ourselves to the next level and see what works in terms of music. Whatever works we’ll do, and whatever feels right to us, we’ll do.

Ally: We won’t do it for the sake of it. We won’t just get a band to play a festival because everyone else there has got one.

What’s next for you guys?

Ally: In terms of festivals this summer, we’ve got Sonar festival in Spain and Hinterland and then Lovebox festival in London and Wakestock in Wales.

Graham: As well as those things, hopefully got the album coming out later in the year and then just go from there. Try and keep recording and so we’ll have another ready really soon. And try and leave the library too.

He succeeds at both keeping your mind working – trying to explicate every eight-bar sequence of tune-age – and boogieing to his universally appealing jams, whether you’re listening to them at a cavernous São Paulo nightclub or in the comfort of your living room (the place where, coincidentally, the magic happens for the man).

Surprisingly, Gui is a humble and gentle family man who concerns himself less with the dynamic of dancefloor hits and more with the well-being of his household (before conducting this interview, he chatted with his wife via Skype for an hour or so and remotely tucked his daughter in for the night).

After talking with Gui about his latest full-length effort, the soothing Take My Breath Away, it became clear that he’d probably prefer to find you jogging to the songs neatly packaged within than grinding the night away in a sweaty underground techno club.

Tell me about the theme of your new album, Take My Breath Away. It has a unique progression to it.

Yeah, it’s kind of like this (makes outline of two horizontal humps).

It doesn’t really resemble your previous album, Chromophobia.

To me, anyway. I think they’re quite similar in the melodic way, and also, maybe, the way it [develops] from the beginning to the middle to the end. Of course, they’re two different albums and they were created with two years in between, but I think they are quite similar. My way of thinking, the way I put all the tracks together, the way I tell a little story.

It’s interesting how you keep making that vertical up-and-down motion. Most people tend to think of the progression of their albums as a mountain with a single peak, not two or three.

First of all, I think the first track, “Take My Breath Away”, opens the CD because it expresses the whole thing. That’s the track that tells the whole story, so that’s why I decided to open the album with that track. It’s like a prelude with really long, melodious lines. It has lots of different emotions in it, too. There are some happy parts, some dark parts. That’s why it opens the album only to be followed by “Atomic Soda”, which is the darkest track. It goes down from there with “Colors”, but it builds back up again with “Ballroom” and “Eggplant”. Then there’s the final end, “Godet”. Yeah, “Ballroom” and “Eggplant” get pretty heavy, but they’re different that what I’m used to, still. They feel a little more ambient and ethereal. Maybe more contemplative or something. Music is always a reflection of our moods. I did the album between June and October. I delivered the album in November. Those four months, I was pretty happy. I was having a vacation in Barcelona with my daughter and my wife. It was right in the middle of the process, and that’s why it sounds really melodic. But the album’s not really happy all the time. I got into introspective moods. I still think the result is quite similar to Chromophobia because the process was really the same. I produced most of the album during the morning, my best time to compose. It’s right after having breakfast with my daughter and sending her to school. My studio is in the living room of my house, and it’s really great to produce there [at that time], not late at night.

That’s interesting since—

Yeah, most of my friends like to go to the studio at, like, 2 a.m. I really hate that. Well, sometimes it’s nice; that’s the nice part about having the studio in my house. Sometimes I do productions after having dinner with my wife. I’m really focused during the morning. I really like being alone then and doing music. It’s where my inspiration comes from.

It’s interesting because the living room is normally a place of extreme comfort and relaxation.

Yeah, well, it’s really what I love to do. More than the gigs, more than everything else. I never was a DJ, and yes, playing in front of a crowd is really fun and amazing, too, but having to be away from my family [is tough]. Like, right now, I was just on the phone with my wife in Brazil for about an hour. They’re going to sleep in one or two hours. Anyway, I have these two very different panoramas: the one in Asia or America or wherever and the one at home, in Brazil.

Is it ever difficult for you to articulate your inspiration and the work you put into your music in comfortable zones to a big club crowd? There’s quite a contrast to a smoky nightclub with strobes and tons of noise and your cozy living room in the morning.

I put everything I experience into my music. Even when I’m making music in my living room, I’m remembering some situations at night, and, of course, that inspires me as well. I put all my influences into my music. Also, it’s really nice to see some of my friends play. That gets me excited and inspired as well.

There’s a certain gentleness to the music you make, I guess. One of my favorite and least expected songs on the album, “No Turning Back”, for example, is almost like a pop ballad.

Yeah, it’s pretty pop. I mean, I came from pop. My main instrument is guitar. I also studied piano maybe 12, 15 years. I remember when I was a kid right after school for the whole afternoon, six to eight hours, I was playing guitar. Even today, I really love rock and I still put some guitar in [my music]. But it’s still really mellow. “No Turning Back” is a really mellow track. It can be quite cheesy, as well! I don’t really follow any rules, I guess. I have a lot of friends who seem to produce the same track all the time. They’re really concerned about the dancefloor, and, yeah, okay. There are some club tracks on my album, but it’s really hard to make 12 tracks that are really only oriented toward dance.

That’s one thing that confuses me a little today. Musicians don’t necessarily distinguish between a 12-inch and an album; there’s a drive to always make an album. Like, you first make a 12-inch dance track and then you think, ‘Okay, I’m going to make an album now, and it’ll still be a dance-y, but it will include way more songs.’

Yeah, right. Like, b-sides on a 12-inch make sense, but on an album— (pauses). Vinyl is really oriented to mixing. They’re made for DJs. Most 12-inchs and EPs are focused on the dancefloor, and to produce an album that’s not really concerned about that [allows you to] show [your audience] different material. In 2005, most people knew me because of my dance tracks, so when I put Chromophobia on the market, I was able to experiment a little and show another side of Gui Boratto. I really like that. Most producers like to do albums because of that. They get to show different faces or experiment with things. Even if you put 12 club tracks on an album, you’ll never have 12 hits. I really prefer the slower tracks because you don’t get sick of them really quickly like you do with the club tracks.

I feel like some people try to pigeonhole you into the Kompakt scene and dub you, lazily, as a minimal techno guy. That completely disregards your desire to experiment. For example, your unique sense of rhythm and syncopation has always stuck with me. It’s not so much about intertwining and layering beats and melodies, but rather understanding how your songs work as a cohesive whole.

Well, I’m an architect, and— (pauses) I see music. It’s like a room. I don’t see the drum as being separate from the rest of the instruments. They’re all connected. There’s the rug and the sofa and the lamp, and everything’s part of the whole room. It’s hard to explain because music is really abstract. I treat one click with the same importance as one bass note or one synthesizer riff. So I see the music as a space and everything is really connected. Music is like a painting or a sculpture or, really, music is just like architecture, in my opinion.

You’re working with cutting up negative space, I guess. Music is filling ether with the opposite of silence. Architecture is about filling empty tangible space with forms and objects.

Exactly. Architecture is just as much about filled space as it is about empty space. Where the light enters, for example. The empty spaces are really important.

It’s pretty easy to layer things on top of each other indefinitely—

They just want to fill every second of silence.

You sort of transcend that, though. You have many, many different things going on in your songs, but seem to think of all of them as complete pieces. You see some sort of holistic togetherness in your work.

I never thought about that. I really think about that, subconsciously, though.

Did you bring any new instruments or equipment into Take My Breath Away?

When I was doing Chromophobia, I was using an older version of Pro Tools. I’m using a really amazing sound box that an old Neumann engineer designed specially for me. I asked for 16 inputs and two outputs, and it sounds quite warm and technically better, because the gear I use, it’s more high quality. But I like the Chromophobia sound, too, and I still use pretty much the same process. I have maybe 20 synthesizers. They’re not all in my living room because my wife doesn’t allow it. I open my closet, and find some in there. There are some under my bed, and in my daughter’s room. I make some recordings and then I change to another synthesizer. Also in the album, I recorded some bass. I just got a new Music Man bass. It’s a five-string StingRay, and I just love the sound. I tried so many – a few electronic ones, the Moog one, the Arp – and none of them sounded organic enough. I wanted to put some more organic elements into “Azzurra” for example, and that’s why I decided to try the Music Man, and I love the result. When the drums come in for what’s sort of like the chorus, it sounds really indie rock. I really like that, the mixture between real instruments and electronic ones. It’s sort of industrial. “Besides” almost sounds like an ode to Peter Hook’s bass playing at times, too.

Yeah, I think it sounds more like the Cure.

I made a little joke at the end of “Beautiful Life”, though. There’s a Peter Hook high bass [riff]. I listened to New Order when I was a kid. That band really inspired me. So did the Cure and Depeche Mode. On “Beautiful Life”, I really pretend to be like Peter Hook. But “Besides”, I think, is more like the Cure. I use a guitar, and I wasn’t thinking about New Order.

Both “Besides” and “Beautiful Life” have this indie rock sort of sound, I think. I get what you mean.

I have a huge connection to rock. Especially bands from the ’80s, like Echo and the Bunnymen. I was never a huge fan of progressive rock like Yes. I used to listen to a lot of Led Zeppelin when I was learning guitar. I really loved Kiss, too. When I was a teenager, I was really into the ’80s. I was into simple rock—

That jangle pop sound—

Yeah, exactly. I really love the Seattle bands, too. Like Nirvana and Alice in Chains. I really love Alice in Chains or Soundgarden. It’s really simple rock that’s not concerned with guitar solos and stuff. I really prefer [strong] riffs and cool harmonies. I love the Smiths for that reason, too. They have such beautiful compositions.

The more you talk about the stuff you like, the more your music makes sense to me.

Yeah, you get it now.

Now, you’re on Kompakt, but I think you’re quite a bit different than a lot of the people on the label, and that’s not only because you don’t live in Germany. What drew you to that label?

First of all, my music has changed a lot since my first release, “Arquipélago”. That was much more of a Kompakt track, so they asked to release it on K2, their new label. After the third or fourth release, when we decided to make an album, I decided to bring my other influences in. Now I’m really free to do whatever I want. I feel a part of the family yet really independent. Of course, I’m not doing drum and bass and releasing it on Kompakt, and honestly, were I to do that, I’d probably put it out on a drum and bass label. Kompakt is a really creative label. They have drum and bass, ambient, techno. I mean, it’s a very wide and open label. There’s so many different styles on the same label, and that’s why they have the sub-labels, like K2 and Kompakt Pop and so many more. I think I’m free to do whatever I want. Even when they don’t like this song or that song, they allow me to put whatever I want on my album.

I think it’s safe to say that Kompakt has a handful of flagship artists, and you seem to be one of them.

I don’t know. I’m super happy to feel a part of the family and, at the same time, to release what I want.

They’ve given you a lot of freedom, which makes me wonder if you ever really think about the audience you’re making your music for. Do you ever imagine the audience you’re putting your music out there for or is the creative process totally a personal one?

Music is a product, right? Everybody’s concerned about who’s going to buy the product, even if it’s subconscious. Most of my audience is women to be totally honest. Like, 70 per cent of my audience is all girls, maybe because of the melodies.

Wow. I never really thought about that!

Me either! I just noticed that from the last two years. Especially in Brazil. I’ve been playing the south of Brazil, and there are the most gorgeous women there. When I play there, 80 per cent women! Maybe it’s because of the melodies. When you’re doing a club track, of course you think of the dancefloor. You think of the beats and the breaks. When I do a mellow track, I think of someone in the car or having lunch or walking with their iPod.

I assume you get a lot of support in Brazil and a good amount in Germany, too. Where else do you think you’re received well?

It’s really rare for me to play in the south of Spain, in Valencia, for example. All they want there is hard techno. Music is really cultural, you know? I play a lot in Barcelona or Madrid. The people in France really love my music. In Asia as well. I’m going to Japan for a 30-minute set! It’s going to take me five days for a 30-minute set! They really like my music, too. I love to play in Germany and in England, and even in the U.S. I really enjoyed my three gigs in New York. I played with Ellen Allien at Studio B, and it was really awesome. There weren’t so many Brazilians. Sometimes I play in a venue where, like, half of the place is Brazilians. I really prefer – when playing outside of my country – to play to the locals and not to the Brazilians! Amsterdam is really nice. The Dutch people are a really incredible crowd. Sometimes they make me posters with my name handwritten or track names to hold up during the gig to [request songs], like at a rock show.

Has anyone ever told you that your music is tough to work with for other DJs? A lot of DJs need to work with a certain BPM.

My music is normally slower than the DJ before is playing. So sometimes, the DJ that’s doing the sort of warm-up asks me, ‘Gui, do you want me to go slower?’ I say, ‘No! Play whatever you want.’ I don’t mind if my music starts slower than the last one. Last year, when I was finishing with “Beautiful Life”, I heard some guys say, ‘No, I don’t want to play after that because it’s all ecstasy.’ I had that a lot in Brazil. At most parties, I’m the last one. In Brazil, I’m always the last one, but I always ask the promoters to put me in the middle. I think my music is for the middle of the night. It’s not for ending the night. My music is not for the peak time.

You were doing a few collaborative tracks.

Well, now I’m working on an album with Tim Simenon from Bomb the Bass. We worked together in Brazil for two weeks. It’s going to be a new Bomb the Bass album, produced by me and Tim Simenon, and we’re having a lot of collaborators on it. We made the skeleton – no, more like 60, 70 per cent of each track. Tim’s doing more work in Amsterdam or wherever and sending me back [the tracks] to get extra material on top. We have four tracks really done so far. We worked with maybe the best drummer in Brazil, this guy named Cuca Teixeira. We had a studio session with him to put live drums into the recordings. We’re just using little elements of his drums for texturing. I’m really excited by the album. Tim’s the artist. I’m just working as a producer. I’m doing some remixes as well. There’s a Moby one coming. I just received the parts last week.

There’s always been a tremendous amount of collaboration within the dance music world. It’s really exciting to see that. What inspires you personally to reach out to these people and suggest working on a 12-inch or an album? What’s the drive?

Well, it depends. I did some tracks with my friend Martin Eyer. When I was in Germany, we were together in his house, and he said, ‘Gui, let’s make a track.’ It was the first track we did. Then, when he was playing Brazil, we did another track – two, actually – and released them on Automatik, and it normally goes along like that. I’ve done a few tracks through the Internet when we’re not together physically. There’s lot of different methods of collaboration. You’ll do collaborations at least with people you like, that you identify yourself with.

You don’t see that a whole lot in rock.

Yeah, but it’d be nice. I’d like to collaborate with other artists, like rock musicians. Normally you see remixes, but not collaborations. But then again, there are projects like Electronic with Bernard Sumner, Johnny Marr and Karl Bartos. That’s a big collaboration band. I really love that band.

There may be an element of convenience to electronic collaboration. When you’re trying to do something with Marr and Sumner, for example, you sort of need to get all your guitars and equipment in one studio.

Well, yeah, it’s harder. It takes more time. It consumes more of everything. More money, more travel. It’s more difficult, you’re right. It’s pretty rare to get a rock and a techno guy to get together and do something nice. Maybe there’s still a cultural, tribe thing [going on]. Some of the [rock] musicians don’t think the techno guys are real musicians. It’s sort of a silly thought, but—

You don’t see a whole lot of rock bands collaborating with other rock bands.

Maybe old rock bands, though, like the Live Aid festivals.

Lastly, I’m still really curious about your architecture work.

When I graduated, I worked two years in the urbanistic area. I wanted to be an architect to work on buildings – that’s the main goal – but when I was in the middle, there was a lot of action in the urbanistic area. That’s why I worked two years within it. It’s really nice to think about a city in a different way, like an organism. You have to think about how it flows, how it connects, the public spaces, that sort of thing. That passion really grew up inside of me. I was involved in music for 10 years at that time, though. Now, I think it’s been more like 20 since I started when I was 13 years old or something. Music is my first passion. I did the architecture stuff because to be a musician in Brazil is hard. Music is not really a recognizable area. Architecture puts your feet on the floor; it’s a more solid career. My guitar professor and piano teacher had difficult times. They were always worried about money. In Europe, and even in America, you can follow music as a career. It’s easier than it is in Brazil. So I tried my second option, but I still love music more.

Their intense live shows – with Ros as a sultry and passionate frontwoman combined with Paul as the solid electronica figure at the back of the stage – had the The Times music editor hailing them as a band to watch in 2009, and DFA snapping up Paul’s Supersoul record label. Through the deal, DFA released the entire label and Moon Unit’s back catalog for worldwide distribution. With their last single “Connections” not only remixed by Ewan Pearson, but also featuring in Mixmag’s April covermount CD, it seems Moon Unit are definitely on the right trajectory to stellar success.

On a stopover in London – where they supported Who Made Who at King’s Cross venue The Scala – ’SUP met up with the guys to nurse their hangovers with a well-placed cup of coffee or two to chat about where the punk ethos has gone wrong.

With you both based in different countries, how did you meet?

Paul: I was working with Xaver [Naudascher, friend and sometime producer of Moon Unit] running the Supersoul label and we were doing music together. Ros sang on our first song. We met through my ex-girlfriend.

Was this in Berlin, where you’re based?

Ros: No, it was in London like 2002 or 2003. I was at St. Martin’s and so was his girlfriend and we were hanging out with the same crowd. We were always saying, ‘We gotta do some music together.’

Paul: This went on for a couple of years.

Ros: I remember I was with you in Paris in 2005 and we still hadn’t done it. We were like, ‘We gotta do that band we were talking about.’

Were you in bands already at this point?

Ros: Yeah, I was singing in other little bands, like Duchampions, an art band, and nothing was really happening. It was just fun. I always thought I’d like to work with Paul but I couldn’t really think about what we could do together. Then it turned out when we started working together we liked all the same stuff, and had all the same ideas about music.

When was the point that you were actually like, ‘Right, lets do this’?

Ros: It was really gradual because he’s based in Berlin and I’m in Belfast, so he would send stuff to me on the Internet and I would listen to it and send recorded vocals back. Then it was like that for a while, but really informal.

Did you set out to create a particular sound?

Paul: No, not at all.

Ros: It was the least contrived music I’ve ever made. There was no ‘Oh, we want to position ourselves to sound like this or these influences.’ I think that was because it was so casual, and we were just doing it for fun really. But then it turned out so great and it was so different to anything that we thought it was gonna be, so we thought we’d release it. We put a single out on Supersoul called “Moon Unit Part”, which was in a series that Paul was already working on.

Were you singing on the previous parts?

Ros: No I was just on “Part 4”. We just kept writing more tracks then we got a call from DFA and they said, ‘We want to release everything Supersoul’s ever put out.’ They’ve got Death From Abroad set up now. It helped spread the word around Europe about the 12-inches that were cool.

How did you feel when DFA approached you?

Ros: It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Paul was already best mates with Tim, so he was already sort of in the circle. It was really exciting, and good because their reputation is so amazing at this stage.

Are any of the tracks being released in America then, or is it just Europe?

Ros: The whole album got released worldwide. It got really big, for people who like that sort of music. It was really weird for us though as it was a bit of an underground thing.

Were you thinking about the tracks going to a wider audience or was it still just a bit of fun?

Paul: We always wanted to release the stuff, but only in a really underground way.

Ros: We’re really lucid about the definition of success. Like Paul does his own label. Even now we do everything ourselves. There’s like a hundred other bands that are like in that middle class, who rise on their own steam but think ‘Yeah, we’re gonna be like fucking Basement Jaxx.’ It’s ridiculous. It doesn’t work like that.

How would you describe the music you’re doing at the moment?

Ros: I think that after we did “Moon Unit Part 4”, which I thought was— (pauses) I don’t want to say like all of these genres, but it’s definitely krautrock and old Italo disco, because Xaver’s half-Italian and was brought up in Milan.

Yeah, the Italo disco scene in London got massive in the past year.

Paul: It’s the same in Berlin.

Ros: It’s a complete coincidence. Whenever Xaver was doing the production of the tracks, it was like a natural thing for him as he was like, from Milan and going to clubs when he was fucking 14 years old when that scene was breaking (laughs)!

You’re a pretty intense performer on stage. Is there some kind of zone you get into when you’re singing?

Ros: It took a really long time before I had the balls to get up in front of an audience. I’ve always been into punk rock – it was my first touchstone for music – but I never once believed that old punk rock axiom that anyone can do it. It’s complete bollocks. It’s quite elitist, but I don’t think everyone should be in a band. Absolutely not. But these days everybody is in a band, so you’ve got this weird imbalance where you’ve got the appreciation of the punk ethic, where people are like, ‘Oh we’re doing it, we don’t care.’ But that doesn’t play out because if you look at the big punk bands like Sonic Youth, they’re completely unique. They’ve been around for 20 years. Not anyone could do that or all these bands would still be around. I think you come to a gradual realization of what you’re capable of, and once you’re completely lucid about it, that’s when you find your good performance.

Are you at home now on the stage?

Ros: Yeah, because for a long time I did not do it, but thought about doing it. And I didn’t get up until I was absolutely fucking sure I could pull it off. Of course there’s the early shows when you spaz out or whatever, but there wasn’t some assumed natural right to get up and do it. I thought about it for a long time: ‘Am I really good enough to do this? Or am I fucking wasting everybody’s time? Would I be happier if I got another job?’ So I think there should be a bit more careful consideration like that from artists!

How did Ewan Pearson come to remix your track “Connection”?

Paul: Well, he lives in Berlin and he’s quite a good friend of mine. His studio’s just ‘round the corner from ours so it just happened from there, really.

What are you guys working on at the moment?

Paul: Well, we’ve got to work out where we are at the moment, where our next shows are and we’re talking to agents about that. It’s all up in the air, but we’ve got a lot of plans.

Ros: It’s all good, the order things are happening in. We’re always trying to push things all the time and we’re really self-motivated about making things happen. I think it’s just going to get busier and busier.

The funny thing about Comet Gain is that – although formed by frontman David Feck in 1992, and having released several albums on several record labels (Wiija, Kill Rock Stars, Fortuna Pop! and What’s Your Rupture?, to name a few) – the band are only now really passing their proverbial baton to the next crop of bands. On the night of this interview Comet Gain play at a packed Music Hall of Williamsburg in Brooklyn with hotly tipped opening act Crystal Stilts. The Pains of Being Pure at Heart and the Cribs have both gone on record saying that the band are a huge influence on their sound. In 2009, indie pop is back in a big way, and we can partially thank Comet Gain for the revival.

Comet Gain are in New York for two reasons: firstly they’re recording a single in the home of Gary Olson from Ladybug Transistor, and secondly, they’ve scheduled a very brief East Coast tour in support of their new compilation, Broken Record Prayers (What’s Your Rupture?, 2008) a collection of b-sides, rarities and a few new songs to whet our appetites for a new Comet Gain full-length, which may or may not be on its way.

The lights dim and the crowd goes wild as soon as Comet Gain take the stage. It’s almost more like a musical revue than your traditional rock show. David banters with the audience just about as much as he actually sings, and co-lead vocalist Rachel Evans charmingly delivers her verses like a coy schoolgirl discovering indie for the first time and loving it. It’s funny to think about all the people in this crowd who just might go home and start shambolic, beautifully discordant bands on their own after witnessing a Comet Gain show. Like the Minutemen said all those many years ago: “Our band could be your life.”

’SUP spoke with Comet Gain backstage at their packed show at Music Hall of Williamsburg in Brooklyn for a wildly amusing and revelatory interview.

You guys are in New York recording; how is that going? Are you making a new album?

David: It’s just a single, really.

Why just a single, and not a new Comet Gain LP?

David: Well, we only had two days here, so we did four songs, one of which is going to be finished by a bunch of drunks.

(Laughing) What?

David: It’s true! It’s going to have a very frat rock vibe: just guitar, bass and drums. We’re giving it to Kevin [Pedersen, founder of What’s Your Rupture?] and his crazy friends, and they’re going to write the words and sing. Kind of like a New York Comet Gain extravaganza.

That’s amazing. Whose idea was that?

David: Seeing as it’s a stupid idea – it was mine (laughs).

I find that every one of your albums has a very distinct feel to it, from the lyrics to the songwriting, right down to the actual recording process. I know that for Réaslistes (Kill Rock Stars, 2002), you recorded that album in a very haphazard, organic way.

David: It varies with different records. You think about how you want the record to sound, and just try different ways. Also sometimes, literally, you don’t have much choice. We do each record with different people in a different way, and therefore it sounds different. You don’t want to do a whole much of similar sounding records. There’s always a haphazardness. The more haphazard the better.

Speaking of recording with different people, at this point does Comet Gain pretty much operate on a revolving door policy?

David: Oh definitely.

Rachel: I would say so. That’s how it works. Dave is the central hub of everything and the members just rotate with what we need, really. I’d say recently we have been pretty consistent though. Kay and me have been in the band for a bit more than most, but then drummers change. Anne-Laure has come into the fold, which is good, because we have a keyboardist now, so that’s a different sound.

David: There are about 55 other people that we forgot to mention.

Rachel: (laughing) We wanted to produce a badge to sell at shows that says ‘I Played In Comet Gain.’

Steve: The members are well into the twenties, I’d say.

David: Oh, there are more than that.

Steve: You think?

David: Oh yeah. More than the Fall. But with less violence.

Well that’s always good. Less alcoholism, amphetamines.

David: (laughing) But tonight, you’ve got the A-team.

Oh, this is the all-star lineup? The Comet Gain Dream Team? Awesome.

[Kay inconspicuously picks up a packet of M&Ms and starts eating them one by one]

Are those M&M’s? I’ve become addicted to the peanut butter ones. What’s your favorite color?

Kay: I don’t think it matters!

I never thought about it but M&M’s don’t even have different flavors! They could all be brown and it would be the same thing.

Steve: You say that, but there is a difference between the regular M&M’s and the peanut M&M’s, color-wise. Okay, this is a trivia question: What color do they have on regular M&M’s that they don’t have on peanut M&M’s?

Yellow?

Steve: No.

Kay: Blue? Blue ones are bad.

Rachel: Green?

Steve: No, brown. There are no brown peanut M&M’s. I have no idea why I know that (laughs).

Comet Gain have been around for a while. How did you choose the songs from your repertoire to create Broken Record Prayers?

David: We made a list of all the songs and then chose the worst ones (laughs).

Is that really what happened?

David: No. That record is mainly for songs recorded for 12- and 7-inches and therefore not available on compact disc. And then we put it out on vinyl.

Rachel: Which makes no sense whatsoever.

David: But there were also some new songs, but not enough to make an album, so we thought we’d just chuck all of it on one release.

No, it’s cool because it is really long—

David: (laughs)

Well, you know what I mean. Not really long, but if you’re a Comet Gain fan you want as many rare songs as possible. You want more bang for your buck. It is like, 80 minutes long though.

David: Is it? You don’t have to listen to the whole thing if you don’t want to.

(Laughing) I stopped after track six, I was like ‘I get it.’

David: That’s why we put all the good songs at the start!

Well, you know tracking an album is very important. Isn’t there a trusted science to it? Like, track one, three and seven are always the best songs? Being a vinyl person, on 90 percent of records, the first song on each side is really poppy, and then you have the last song that is kind of a sad ending. Then if they’re going to do weird one or a long one, or like, a funk excursion, they always put it at track three. I find that, in my favorite albums, there is a disproportionate number of really good track threes.

Steve: If you’re not grooving by track three, you’ve got a problem.

David: Track eight is always the worst song on the album. Track eight is always like, ‘Well, we’ve got this crappy track, where do we stick it? We’ll put it at the end, so they won’t notice it, but not quite at the end.’

Rachel: We’re going to have to check all of our track eights now.

David: You know how some buildings don’t have a thirteenth floor because the number thirteen is unlucky? We should just never put anything on track eight.

Steve: Yeah, to avoid that curse of track eight that ruined many a band!

There are so many indie pop bands coming that are popular right now like Crystal Stilts, the Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Pants Yell!, and I feel like a lot of them look up to Comet Gain as a big influence. Like, those bands look at you the way you might have looked to Primal Scream or bands like that. Do you think that’s a fair assessment?

David: It’s a bizarre feeling. I still look the same, listen to the same records probably. My hair hasn’t changed. Then all of a sudden you’re an elder statesman. Then in Time Out they start putting ‘indie legends’ in front of our name, or ‘has-beens’ or whatever (laughs). Or ‘veterans.’

Rachel: It’s definitely enduring. Ten years ago, we didn’t have all those things in front of our name. Now, because we’ve endured a certain length of time, we have history.

David: It’s just been consistent.

Steve: Consistent in a very inconsistent way.

David: Our mission of failure is continuing very well.

So what constitutes an indie veteran? Is it merely enduring? A lot of bands are still around, but they suck. No one would consider them to be very influential, or at least in regards to new bands people care about.

Steve: I think just not taking it all that seriously.

David: It would be very scary if we took it seriously. We’d just shoot ourselves.

Steve: A lot of bands think in a very linear way, in terms of a career, like ‘We’ve gotta do this, we’ve gotta push onto the next stage.’ Our thing is just—

Rachel: Having no ambition! (laughs)

Steve: Absolutely no ambition.

David: When [other bands] check their record sales, the moment that the sales start going down, they probably get jobs in accountancy. I have no idea how any of our records have sold. We don’t look, we don’t know and we don’t mind. As long as we get free beer and alright whiskey and M&M’s.

Comet Gain have been known to take some time between releases, but at the same time are fairly prolific in the sheer number of songs in your repertoire. David, are you one of those musicians who writes constantly and has loads of forgotten tracks lying around, or does inspiration come to you in bursts?

David: Well, Kay writes all the songs (laughs).

Kay, what inspires you then?

Kay: Uh, my cat (laughs). Actually, David surprised me because he came to me one day with a list of songs—

David: It was just a list.

Kay: But when you have something like that you can come up with a lot of ideas.

David: I had come up with a list of songs – song titles, I might add – and then we gradually filled in the songs, under each title.

[Anne-Laure whispers something in Kay’s ear].

Kay: What?

(To Anne-Laure) Are you telling her a secret? During an interview?

Kay: She was trying to tell me a secret but I couldn’t hear her.

Steve: The secret is how we write songs together! That one’s in the vault. Can’t talk about that!

David: Whenever I’m on the toilet, I just grab my notepad and go, ‘This’ll be the one.’ And every time I come out – gold.

But back to your list. Having a good title is almost as important as having a good song. It reels you in. I’ve often wondered why sometimes people don’t choose a title and then work their ways down.

David: Having a song with a generic title is always bad. There are always 250,000 songs with the same title, like “Sitting on the Mountain” or something.

Steve: Or “Rainy Day”.

Rachel: “Sitting on the Mountain”? (laughs) Obviously, we love music and we’re pretty obsessed with it, and pop culture in general. Books, movies, et cetera. If you look at our records and at our songs, there are loads of different references to, you know, things other than music.

Like the Bay Area’s most famous sons, Metallica, they draw their influences from the late ’70s and ’80s bands of the new wave of British heavy metal (NWOBHM). Saviours would have been the heaviest band in the world if they had formed in 1983. Indeed, they actually aren’t too far off holding that title in 2009. What separates them from some of their peers is that you can clearly hear the raw energy of metal originators like Motörhead and Venom in their epic and pummeling material. This rough edge gives the tunes longevity and an unmistakable authenticity. With incredible artwork and suitably dark lyrics from singer and guitarist Austin Barber, it’s clear why they are one of the bands leading “true” heavy metal’s return to prominence. An accurate compliment would be to say that Metallica’s late and legendary original bassist Cliff Burton would probably play in Saviours if he were alive today.

In 2007, Saviours moved to the super cool NYC label Kemado Records, where they released their second EP, Cavern of Mind (Kemado, 2007) and their mammoth second LP, Into Abaddon (Kemado, 2008). The band was recently hand picked by Mastodon and The Sword for long tours. This year they are taking a break from preparing new material to attack Europe again on their own headline trek. Unusually, it’s Saviours’ passionate and no-nonsense drummer, Scott Batiste, who writes the songs. We caught up with Scott to talk about heavy metal, winning serious fans and the end of the world.

What was your earliest experience of getting into heavy music? Was there a key moment?

Yeah totally, when I was young. I grew up in Santa Cruz, maybe you’ve heard of the Santa Cruz skateboards? Well, pretty much everybody in fucking Santa Cruz skateboards. It is just part of growing up there. You watch the skate videos and you get into punk and metal from there. And I think the first time I got into it was through the Thrasher magazine skate rock comps. All those old cassettes they did. I got one in sixth grade or thereabouts in elementary school, and it was all downhill from there (laughs). I think someone re-released them. I still have the old tapes somewhere.

I’ve read that Black Sabbath had an impact on you as well.

Yeah, my mom’s second husband had a pretty crazy vinyl collection. I still have his old Sabbath records. They all still have a little sticker with his name on them. But yeah, he had all the Sabbath records and shit. I remember when I put on the first Sabbath record on I was like ‘I’m going to get in trouble for listening to this!’ But I didn’t stop (laughs). So that was like a key moment too.

Black Sabbath’s debut is still an incredible record.

Yeah, it’s still very powerful. I don’t think it’s ever going to lose its powers.

What are you mainly listening to right now?

Lately I’ve been really into a lot of German thrash: Kreator, Exumer, Sodom, Destruction. I don’t know, I’ve been in a weird ’80s time warp lately where nothing new sounds good to me. Or I just don’t think it’s worth a shit. And I’m really excited to be playing Roadburn Festival because Saint Vitus, Neurosis and Angel Witch are going to be there.

Roadburn has a fantastic line-up.

I said, ‘Put us wherever you want on the bill, but I have to see Angel Witch and I have to see Saint Vitus. Don’t make us play while they’re playing.’ Luckily that worked out, but we are playing against Church of Misery, which sucks! But hopefully we’ll be able to catch a little bit of those guys.

And after Roadburn I heard you are popping to All Tomorrow’s Party’s in Minehead just to see Sleep’s reformation gigs.

Basically, the Roadburn people were trying to get us a whole tour. They wanted to fly us out but they couldn’t afford to do it just for the one show. So I talk to all these people, but I don’t know, it’s hard to get people to correspond with me. So I was like, ‘Fuck it. I’m just going to do this myself.’ So I booked the whole tour. And I saw Matt Pike one day at a practice and he was like, ‘Dude, Sleep’s playing!’ and I said, ‘Yeah, I know, it’s all over the Internet. People are talking about it.’ And so I booked the tour so it ends in London the day before. Matt was like, ‘You’ve got be there so we can get blasted and shit.’ So we’re going to go to it and barge that shit, wreak havoc. Sleep seem really cool and excited. I’ve heard some crazy stuff about what goes on at that festival. It sounds like it’s going to be awesome.

But it must be strange coming to the west coast of England to see Sleep? Both yourselves and Sleep are from North California.

Yeah, you know, actually in Oakland there are a lot of people that are pretty pissed about it. Like ‘What the fuck? You guys have to do an Oakland show. This is retarded!’ But it is what it is you know? I’ve talked to a lot of friends that are going to be there so I’m sure we’re going to have a good time.

The story is that Saviours formed during a vision quest. Is there an element of truth to that?

Oh yeah, absolutely. Basically Austin and I were in another band together and that band was really dysfunctional. It was impossible to do anything. So we were like, ‘Fuck this, let’s do a heavier band that’s more in line with what we want to do and what we’re into’. It was like the bands I was in when I was 21. It’s fun then, but fuck it, I’m over it. Austin was in another band as well and they did a tour of Europe. The whole time he was there he was doing tons of weed and mushrooms and shit and writing lyrics and coming up with ideas and stuff. Basically, he put this band together through his friends. We kind of conceptualized the band before we played any music. We were like, ‘This is how it’s going to be,’ and that was the way we did it. As far as the vision quest goes – transcendental and all that shit. I don’t know, but there is some truth to it, definitely.

As a band you seem to exude a certain confidence.

I think that all of us have played music for so long and been in so many weird bands, we’ve done things and just have learned what not to do. We’ve all toured forever so touring is the same thing for us all. We just all get along and still party together and have fun, you know? If the band is not fun anymore I’m not going to fucking do it.

What’s the secret to surviving long tours and not killing each other?

We’ve all just done it for so long we’ve managed to weed out the shitty personalities; people that can’t hang or just take it for granted or whatever. I spent most of my twenties playing shit shows, art galleries, basements of houses and shit. To turn up at a gig now and they have a rider and shit for you, well that’s killer. I still really appreciate it and I don’t take it for granted. You play
with some guys and it’s their first band and they’re like ‘This sucks and the sound guy sucks.’ I don’t know. I definitely still really enjoy it.

And what are you guys working on right now?

We’re recording some new demos for a new album we’re doing in the summer. We’re at our practice space right now and this guy Scott Ecklein that shares the room with us is recording it. He’s in a band called Clipd Beaks.

A new album is almost done then?

We’ve finished writing it. It’s pretty much there. It’s nine songs. We’re doing a couple of covers. Kemado is putting out three 7-inches in June sometime. They are from the demo material and there are a couple of covers.

Cool, I don’t remember you guys doing any covers before. What are they?

Judas Priest “Running Wild” and Saxon “Thunder in the Sky”. It’s pretty cool. We’re really excited about how they’ve come out. We haven’t done any covers before live in the UK I don’t think. But we used to play a Motörhead cover and a Sweet track.

You artwork is always really killer. What’s the plan for the next album cover?

The artwork is actually pretty far along. This guy Tim Lehi, a tattooist from San Francisco, he’s doing an amazing painting for it. It’s fucking crazy. He’s a total badness. He’s been drawing flyers and posters and shit for years. When he was young in the ’80s and ’90s he pretty much did every metal show that came through Kansas.

Saviours have more than once been called inspirational heavy band since you formed. Is it nice to feel like an influence on new bands coming through?

I don’t know, sometimes when I hear shit like that it just really trips me out. I’m still very influenced by the stuff that I’m into. I guess I can see it, but it’s a little weird to think that what I’m doing might influence somebody. But it’s really cool when some dude comes up and has a tattoo of our pyramid pentagram thing. That’s fucking nuts! This one guy tripped me out. I remember when we showed up at the show in Pittsburgh and this kid has this tattoo on his arm of the fucking pentagram. He’s waiting for us to show up. We had this show with Earthless in Chicago the night before and we’re so hungover. And this kid showed up three hours ago to see us. I talked to him and I’m like, ‘What’s up with this thing? I’ve never seen you before.’ And he was like, ‘I saw you in Baltimore with Doomriders and it totally changed the way that I dig music.’ And at that Baltimore show I was drunk! It was nothing special at all. It was like 50 people at a shitty bar. But apparently it affected someone. It definitely trips me out. It is cool.

Those kind of encounters must help make the hard work worthwhile?

Almost all of us are unemployed. We’re down at the rehearsal studio like 20 or 30 hours a week. It’s just about us having a good time and doing stuff we think is rad.

Are you still writing all the songs on a knackered old bass?

Well, we have a new guitar player, this guy Sonny Reinhardt. He’s from this band Watch Them Die and he’s a fucking total shredder. And on the new album he wrote a couple of the songs. But I still wrote most of them. I’ve been playing guitar this time. I got this Flying V from Craigslist. It’s a Gibson copy and I’ve been playing it like crazy. I just started getting into writing on guitar so I think that approach will be more apparent on the new shit. It’s a little more riffy or something. It’s a little faster.

Can you talk about your excellent, dark lyrics?

Austin writes everything. The general thing about the lyrics is that pretty much when Austin writes them he gets into a really fucking bad place for a couple of days afterwards. Like he’s been a pain in the ass lately (laughs). It’s kind of weird to explain but everything is basically ‘The end is coming, the end is here.’ And he just partied really hard and got really depressed about shit. He spat all this shit out. It’s just pages and pages of notes and it’s like ‘Dude, how are you going to get a song out of this?’ Then he’ll refine it. He’ll be in a bad mood forever and then he’ll get over it. The apocalypse, fuck work, fuck the rhythm of life, fuck everybody.

Yeah, I got those bleak ‘end-time’ vibes from your lyrics.

Pretty much it’s all bullshit. It’s all fucking disgusting and fuck you all. That’s where we stand but at the same time we’re all amiable guys to hang with. We’re just shitting it out, you know? Middle America is really fucking depressing. We hang out, watch movies and talk shit. We’re into weird art and being creative. Just doing something. But yeah, the world is pretty terminally fucked.

Red Album (Relapse, 2007) was a milestone for the band. Taking their melodic post-sludge to new and incredible heights with a more melodic core than on previous outings such as First/Second (Hyperrealist, 2008). Their sound is as clearly influenced by punk as the new wave of British heavy metal (NWOBHM), which includes bands such as Iron Maiden and Judas Priest. And like Southern rock, their guitar tone is as warm as Virginia sunshine. They match massive riffs with incredibly tuneful passages, vocals that veer between soaring and bellowing, and a forceful rhythm section. Equally unafraid of both complex prog rhythms and straight-up melodic metal simplicity, they craft great songs. An incredible live band, they have honed their skills with near constant touring. In 2008, they played an incredible 250 shows around the world. Their intimate friendship as kids has translated perfectly into the touring machine that Baroness has become today. Perhaps it’s hard to imagine any band playing that much together without that essential bond. Their interplay is perfect, almost psychic, as they navigate the incredible complexity of their set, ranging across the stage with conviction and energy that flows into the audience and always makes for an amazing show. With a band that has played this many shows it almost seems ridiculous to list some of the bands they have played with, but doing so is proof positive of the respect in which they are held. From touring with giants like Opeth, young thrash upstarts Municipal Waste or the amazing Kylesa (for whom John has provided amazing album artwork), they have played with fervor and filled venues worldwide.

‘SUP caught up with the band at the Roadburn Festival in Holland after having seen them play the Underworld in London eight days before. The Roadburn performance was majestic, the main room totally full, the band showing no signs of this being the last of a 15-date tour without a single day off. We managed to wrangle John and Peter to a nearby café and took a seat in the Dutch sunshine. After a brief moment of difficulty for us all as an all-girl hockey team cycled past, this writer pressed record:

John: About four years ago we played here and we were hanging out down the other end of the street there, sitting in the sun by the load in, when suddenly we hear this oompah-pah music really loud. Walking down the street there’s about 50 guys with tubas, all Dick Van Dyke style, the whole nine yards. Each and every single one of them was a total leather daddy. Wearing next to nothing but leather bandoliers, chaps, leather briefs.

(Laughing) A gay oom-pahpah festival on the move? That’s not something you see everyday.

John: Exactly. Five minutes ago I’d have said it was the best thing I’d ever seen on this block (laughs).

After that, I just can’t ask any normal questions. What’s the best thing about being Baroness?

John: The best thing? It’s just getting to play our instruments all around the world. It just doesn’t get any better than that.

As an avid teenage air guitarist with no skills at playing the real guitar, I’m wondering if it’s as much fun as it looks: standing on stage, totally rocking out, doing the band interplay? Have you ever had moments when you realize ‘Oh God. I’m rocking out and it’s awesome?’

John: (laughs) There are no moments when that’s ever been in my conscience, but I’ll admit that post-game its really struck me how amazing parts of a show were, or how much fun certain songs were.

If it was me I’d be all over the place. I mean you’re living the dream up there!

John: You know what, there’s 45 minutes a day that I don’t think about that – when we’re doing it – but the rest of the time I’m awestruck by the fact that we’re here. Friday we were playing in Poland. Things were a little difficult with some language problems. It was looking a bit dodgy and things were getting tense. We were backstage in the venue, way out of town, just getting more and more tense ‘til we have to go on stage. Finally we walk out and they had these fog machines at the side of the stage. The fog was so thick on stage that I could not see my hands to the guitar. It was like walking into a sheet of paper.

Peter: I was across from him, kinda outside the fog and watching him struggling trying to see stuff. But then suddenly I didn’t even know what was going on. Then there was screaming so loud I couldn’t hear myself singing and I look over and he’s just laughing his ass off (laughs).

John: (laughing) I was trying to find the mic! It was just this black shape moving about in the fog. It took me about 30 seconds to get my bearings, work out what was up, down, left and right. About the time the first note was played there was just this eruption of a roar from in front of us. At least I thought that was in front. Just this roar of human noise, vastly overpowering what was being played on stage. For some reason – at that exact moment, in the midst of this blind delusion, this complete sensory deprivation (laughing) – it just struck me as completely humorous. Which has never happened, you know. It’s never been a funny thing.

Peter: Totally! We don’t usually laugh on stage.

John: I couldn’t stop it and I couldn’t contain it! I was trying to sing and I could just hear myself laughing and it was all amplified. I just couldn’t perform the first half of the song, I was so disoriented and it was so hilarious. That was one of the moments where the reality of what we were doing was just totally overwhelming, you know? It just became apparent, and I was just laughing and laughing.

Was the Poland show the stand-out date of the tour?

John: That was it right there. I mean walking out into a blind haze on stage in a country that we’ve never played, that I don’t even know if we’ve sold any records in, and it turned out it was one of the most powerful shows we’ve ever played. We couldn’t hear our own voices over the crowd.

Peter: We couldn’t hear our own guitars over the crowd.

When you’re in the van, what are you listening to?

John: Over the course of the year it’s as intentionally as broad as it can be. I mean its one thing to play with every single band that understands drop tuning. It’s unusual that we listen to – it’s unusual that we listen to anything that sounds like the band we played with the night before. On our way to the festival we started out with some thrash at about 7 a.m. Then we had some blues, then we ended up with some Queen live album – a couple of us were grudgingly starting to like it.

John: I like all Queen albums!

(Laughing) Yeah, but we’re British.

John: And that’s what put you off (laughs)! The video where they’re all in drag and everything. The BBC did a documentary on “Bohemian Rhapsody” that’s amazing. But back to the question: Yeah we’ll listen to blues, folk music, electronic music, thrash metal, black metal, hair metal, cheese metal.

What the xx lack in articulacy they make up for in peculiarly seductive and claustrophobic pop, swirled in chiming minor chords and silken, boy-girl trade-offs courtesy of guitarist Romy Madley Croft and bassist Oliver Sim. The duo have known each other since they were two years old (Sim jokes that his first impression of Croft was to wonder why she was hogging the Play-Doh), but it wasn’t until they were 15 that a summer of boredom drove them to cover Wham! and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. The band finally coalesced shortly afterwards with the addition of Baria Qureshi (keyboards/guitar) and Jamie Smith (beats/MPC sampler), bonding in music class, smoking outside the school gates and skateboarding. Pooling and distilling their collective love for artists as diverse as Aaliyah, The Kills and CocoRosie, songs like current single “Crystalised” and their cover of Womack and Womack’s funkadelic “Teardrops” are bewitching and twilit and prove that shouting isn’t always the best way to be heard.

Oliver and Romy, you two have known each other for nearly all your lives. Was it embarrassing to suddenly start singing in front of each other?

Oliver: It was the strangest and the hardest thing for me. It took ages. A lot of, ‘You sing first,’ ‘No you sing first.’ So we sang together at the same time as a compromise.

You’ve said that you think R&B is a really free genre, but I actually think it’s one of the most hemmed in types of music.

Oliver: I’m not sure where I was going with that R&B statement. I’m just a big fan of melodies and how we can incorporate that into our music.

Romy: Oliver got me into R&B via his sister. I just picked up on it being fun to sing. It’s expressive, but I don’t know if I agree with the free genre.

How do you feel when you’re onstage?

Oliver: We’re getting there. It’s so much easier because we’re with our friends. When people talk about their bands and maybe about how they don’t get on, I find it strange. I hadn’t even though that your bandmates aren’t your best friends.

And the black aesthetic? Will you ever don a hot pink T-shirt?

Oliver: I think that’s Romy’s influence on me. I used to be quite a colorful person and I’ve gradually sunk into the darkness!

Romy: I’ve always worn black and so has Baria.

Baria: Which is ironic because I used to work at Uniqlo – folding, folding, folding! I only wear color in the summer. If there’s a reason to wear color, I’ll wear it, but I didn’t open my blinds today so I didn’t know the sun had stepped up.

How do you write your lyrics?

Romy: Everything I sing I’ve written and everything Oli sings he’s written.

Oliver: The Sugababes complex.

Romy: We heard in an interview that everything they sing, they’ve written themselves and they really feel it. Then we met the writers of all their songs who wrote the lyrics as well. Disappointing. But I quite like the idea that everything I’m singing, I feel. It gives the songs two different angles. We’re singing along the same theme but from both of our experiences. But I’m never ever singing ‘I miss you’ to Oliver because it would be weird and he’s my friend.

Oliver: It’s not a Sonny and Cher kind of thing.

Are there any overriding lyrical themes on the album?

Romy: There’s quite a lot of the sun, moon, sea and the stars; nature and the zodiac. I like relating themes of romance, and using lot of the word ‘you.’ But I like to make it cryptic, so a person wouldn’t know straight away it’s about them.

How about “Crystalised”?

Oliver: It’s about someone pushing you faster and further than you’re ready to go.

Romy: Oliver found out that now you can get your ashes turned into crystals, so the first lyric is about that. I thought it was amazing taking the idea of that pressure, and applying it to a relationship.

“VCR” seems to be an ode to romantic domesticity.

Romy: I think I wrote that song before I’d even ever met anyone! I like it, but it is me at 16 years old, so it has elements, of like, looking at a baby photo and cringing!

Oliver: That’s the strange thing about a debut album. You’ve got all the songs you’ve written in your lifetime next to songs you wrote six weeks ago.

You tried to work with producers like Diplo, Kwes and Lexxx (Golden Silvers, Esser), but ultimately ended up with Jamie on production. Why?

Jamie: They did really help and the album wouldn’t have sounded like it does now if we hadn’t worked with all those people. There are certainly elements of what they did in it, but it was easier doing it ourselves. I’ve only ever produced one other band and my own stuff and I don’t really use live instruments on my own so it was quite a new experience.

Romy: Working with the other producers it just ended up sounding more like them than us and we were really trying to keep the sound of our demos.

Did you have a lot of music around you as a kid?

Romy: I owe a lot of my taste in music to my dad. He used to play a lot of Velvet Underground when I was quite young, some Jimi Hendrix. He’d always play good music at dinner. I’d ask what it was and then I’d go tell someone about it and they’d be like, ‘Where did you hear about that?’ And I’d be like, ‘I found it myself!’ Ha!

What was it like growing up in southwest London?

Baria: Nice. Quite family orientated, but still easy access to the city. We live 20 minutes away from each other.

Romy: And an hour and a half away from everyone else in the world! Where I live I never see young people anywhere. Directly ‘round my house there’s a massive school, but there’s no community of places to go hang out and be social. I drove past our school the other day and I was just like ‘Oh my God.’ It’s in the middle of an estate and it’s not that nice. It was a great place. That’s where we met and stuff, but I’m quite happy to be grown up. I don’t want to go back particularly.

Elliot Secondary School, where you all met, has educated the likes of Hot Chip, Four Tet and Burial. Is it a particularly musical school?

Romy: It’s just a comprehensive. Maybe it has a good music department because they just left us alone.

Oliver: I don’t know if they were giving us freedom or just neglecting us! You were given a lot of time to do your own thing, which I’m thankful for.

Besides music, what can’t you live without?

Oliver: God, I don’t know. Water!

Romy: Music is my love and everything relates to it. That’s how I meet and connect with people, how I build up relationships. It’s all connected to music. It completely encapsulates everything for me.

Enter the Crystal Stilts. The five-piece band came together in Brooklyn, NY in 2008. Original band members Brad Hargett and J.B. Townsend first met in 2003, releasing a series of singles and an EP on Feathery Tongue in 2004. But the group was not yet complete; band members Kyle Forrester (keyboard), Andy Adler (bass) and Frankie Rose (drums) were brought on board and the band was born.

The Stilts build layer upon layer to their defiantly retro sound – a sound that is firmly planted in the worlds of punk and ’60s surf rock and then drenched in dark and moody atmosphere. It’s a sound that is particularly expansive, layered with echoes of reverb and analog instrumentation. But while decidedly vintage in style, retro nostalgia the Crystal Stilts are not. Their music manages to sound modern yet aware of its roots. The band’s debut album, Alight of Night (US – Slumberland/Europe – Angular Recording Corporation, 2008) was released last year to considerable acclaim. ’SUP recently had a chance to catch up with the band in Brooklyn to talk about the appeal of surf rock, Brooklyn’s Greenwood Cemetery and former NBA Slam Dunk Champion Harold Minor.

Here we are, back in Brooklyn – home for you guys. Is it nice to be playing a home show?

Brad: It’s nice to be able to go home and sleep somewhere you don’t have to pay for.

How long have you guys been living here? Some of you moved from Florida and elsewhere, right?

Andy: I’ve got you on that one, suckers—

Frankie: Three years.

Andy: Twelve years.

Kyle: About 10 years.

Brad: (to J.B.) We’ve been here approaching seven years.

Brad and J.B., you guys originally started the band. How did you end up bringing Andy, Kyle and Frankie into the group?

J.B.: Kyle joined playing keyboards three years ago. At that time we had a drum machine and I played a kick drum. I guess the records we wanted to make sounded more like a five-piece band than a three-piece band. A little later, Andy started playing bass and then Frankie started playing drums about a year ago.

Let’s talk about your first full-length album, Alight of Night. The whole album has a sort of pervasive moodiness to it. What inspired the record thematically?

Brad: A good portion of the songs were either started or written in Florida and the other bunch were written right after I moved to New York, so I think there was a disconnect. I didn’t like Florida and then moved to New York, without knowing anybody aside from one other person. You’re in a huge metropolis and I didn’t know anybody. There’s a sort of strangeness to it due to the distance.

It seems like that sense of place influenced your sound. Several of you are originally from Florida. Do you think that sunny, laid-back image the state represents is part of your sound?

Brad: I think what our sound represents is how we did not relate to the sunny laid-back attitude. Although I feel like some of the songs, and even some of our newer songs, have a surf vibe.

J.B.: The surfiness has nothing to do with surf; it has to do with surf music.

There seems to be a strong connection to surf rock – the Beach Boys, Trashmen – in your sound. How did you first get interested in these types of bands?

Brad: Both me and him (points to J.B.) worked at Rocks in Your Head which is just a record store [in Manhattan] that’s closed now. I met him there and he hung out there a lot, so coming out of Florida we got exposed to a lot of music that we wouldn’t otherwise have heard. I think the record is just an example of the things we like. The influences are just things we would like to sound like so we just throw that in the pot. None of it is too deliberate. It’s just the sound that we latch onto, that we try and recreate.

You seem to have made a conscious decision to stay away from synthesized and newer music technology. What do you think that adds creatively to your music?

J.B.: I like old gear better. It just sounds better to me.

Brad: It’s nice that you say that instead of lo-fi because I feel like as much as we get lumped in with lo-fi, lo-fi is stuff that’s recorded on GarageBand for no money and we actually have to record and spend a bit of money to get the sound we want. Again, we’re trying to go after a sound we like. We’re trying to make songs that we would want to hear.

Do you feel like this stripped down aesthetic contributed to the way you produced the record Alight of Night?

J.B.: Yeah, we used all planned reverbs, not digital reverbs. We used space echoes, tape delays and stuff like that. The production has a lot of space. I purposely left a lot of space in there. The record is not jam-packed with instruments, but it’s more of a studio record.

I was watching the video on your Myspace page for the song “Prismatic Hall”. It looks like it was filmed in that same vintage style with a Super 8 camera. How was that done?

Andy: We shot some stuff here [in New York] and when we went on tour, we brought a Super 8 camera and we would shoot some stuff. Whenever we went anywhere, we’d just pick up the camera and shoot things and have a bunch of footage.

It almost looks like it could be Central Park.

Andy: Prospect Park [in Brooklyn] is a lot of it actually. And then beaches in California.

Kyle: And Greenwood Cemetery—

Brad: —where we communed with the spirits.

Did you guys check out all the famous graves in Greenwood Cemetery?

Brad: I didn’t know they were famous, but we definitely checked out some of the tombs [like] Harold Minor.

Who’s Harold Minor?

Andy: It’s some dude [who’s buried there] who has that name. That’s where his career is buried.

Brad: It was a joke that I like and Andy appreciated because it was a sports joke.

Harold Miner of the [Miami] Heat? Didn’t they call him “Baby Jordan” for a while?

Andy: Yeah! For like one game.

Brad: Until he had to play!

Brooklyn seems to be ground zero right now for DIY culture, be it music, food or crafts. Do you feel as though the band is an outgrowth of what’s going on there, musically?

Andy: Probably not.

Brad: My answer is no. I can’t cook and I can’t draw and I can’t make crafts. In terms of music it’s DIY but it’s still a promoter who’s booking the show.

Kyle: I would say that DIY culture in other cities is much more actually DIY. [Things like] shows in people’s lofts, but that’s really hard [in New York] because the cops will come.

Brad: And DIY venues are kind of [legit] venues.

Kyle: I don’t think it’s as legitimately DIY in New York at all.

What about that Todd P show you guys played out in Bushwick at Market Hotel?

Brad: Todd P would call it DIY but Todd P is a big booker here who has a monopoly on these slightly newer venues. I would say it’s more of an aesthetic thing than being DIY.

I’ve heard a few times that you guys were first discovered by Hamish Kilgour from New Zealand punk band The Clean. How did that come about?

Brad: That’s right. We’ve recently been told that we were discovered by Lou Reed (laughs). Not true. Hamish was at our first show. Before we even had a band, before we even had a band name. And he was really complimentary. He came out the next several shows. The Clean are one of our favorite bands – ever. That was something that gave us the strength to continue doing it. And then finally when they reformed and played at [New York venue] Cake Shop they asked us to open for them, which was the end of 2007. We decided we needed to start playing shows because we really just played very sporadically and recorded and put it out ourselves. And that show was really important for us. A lot of people saw us that show that hadn’t previously. And it was a crowd that was more sympathetic to what we were doing. That ended up being really important that Hamish was there at the first show in the coincidental way that he was there.

Were you influenced at all by anything going on in New Zealand? Like the label Flying Nun?

Brad: We love those bands. Union Expressway. We even like some of the weirder New Zealand stuff.

Do you find it odd that such a remote country could be producing such a fertile music scene?

Brad: That doesn’t surprise me at all. I mean one of our favorites, S.E. Rogie, who we love, is from Sierra Leone. Even British music – so much British music is influential and it’s a tiny little stupid island (laughing).