The Raveonettes The Fuzz After the Buzz By Andrew Clayman Published in Chicago Innerview, October 2009
Sune Rose Wagner was not the first man to pour a bucket of distortion over a three-chord surf-rock riff and a Phil Spector beat. In fact, when The Raveonettes burst on the scene as one of “the” buzz bands of 2002, they were routinely described as sonic disciples of The Jesus and Mary Chain—the Scottish rockers who’d helped lay the groundwork for minimalist noise-pop in the 1980s. Four superb albums later, however, Wagner (guitar/vocals) and his Raveonette co-star Sharin Foo (vocals/bass) have actually proven to be more ahead of their time than behind it, as a new wave of similarly-minded bands has followed the Danish duo’s blueprint to indie-rock prominence in 2009.
“When I speak to a lot of these new bands—the Brooklyn bands and stuff—they all seem to be huge Raveonettes fans,” says Wagner, the brooding male foil to Foo’s icy femme fatale. “I’m kind of surprised about how much they really like us. They’re almost in awe it seems. I guess maybe it’s because we’re older than them and been around a while or whatever-- that they kind of look up to us for what we’ve accomplished so far. Some of the stuff we brought to music, people hadn’t done for many years, you know? I think people really respect us for that, and I think that’s really cool.”
From SoCal to SoHo, shades of The Raveonettes’ fuzzed-out retro style can be heard in the sounds of many of this year’s breakout indie acts, from Wavves, No Age, and Times New Viking to that ever growing stable of Brooklyn bands-- Vivian Girls, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Crystal Stilts, and A Place to Bury Strangers, to name a few. Technically speaking, The Raveonettes are a New York band, too, having migrated from Denmark early in their career. But regardless of how much they may be revered by the new class of noise-popsters, Wagner and Foo are not really part of the “scene”—from a geographic or critical perspective.
“It’s hard,” Wagner says. “I mean, in Manhattan, there really is no scene. And that’s where I live. So I never really even meet people who are in bands around here. If you go to Brooklyn, it’s quite the opposite. In order to be part of a scene, though, I think you have to be inside the scene, and since I’m more of a Manhattan kind of person, I’m not really in one. But we are building a recording studio in Brooklyn, so I’m sure I’ll have a lot more contact with a lot of the bands out there.”
Wagner says he’d welcome the chance to get into producing and to take a young Brooklyn band or two under his wing. But in the meantime, he has far more important business to attend to—Raveonettes business. Whether or not they’ve been getting their fair kudos as harbingers of a growing musical movement, the Raves haven’t wandered out to pasture like so many indie buzz bands before them. Instead, they’ve recorded one increasingly dynamic and exciting record after another. Their latest, In and Out of Control, arrives this month on Vice Records.
“This is one we refer to as a ‘proper studio album’,” Wagner says. “It was recorded in a big studio using a lot of instruments, multi-layered songs—a big production, which is what we wanted. In contrast, Lust Lust Lust (2008) was just made in my bedroom using very minimal stuff, you know? I like both things. They both have a certain charm to them. But it’s definitely fun to go in and do a big album like this.”
As for the title In and Out of Control, Wagner says it reflects the circumstances behind the record as much as the content of its songs.
“This was quite a difficult album to make, because we went into the studio with basically nothing. We didn’t have any finished songs or anything. We just set a deadline and said ‘we have to be done in a month and a half and that’s it. We’ll see what happens.’ Well, doing in that way, some days you felt it was good, some days you felt it was terrible. It was all made on the spot, you know? So even when we left the studio and the album was done, we didn’t know for sure if we liked the final product. It was like it was all so fresh and new. But now that I’ve heard it a few times, I think it’s a great album. I’m very proud of it.”
Partly as a result of their scramble to string together a record on the fly, Wagner and Foo wound up crafting their most diverse collection of tunes yet. Admittedly, that’s a relative statement, since their past efforts include records recorded entirely in the key of B flat minor (the Whip It On EP) and B flat major (2003’s Chain Gang of Love). Still, there’s no denying the considerable tonal and textural shifts at work on In and Out of Control, from the ‘60s girl group pep of “Bang!” to the uncharacteristically synthy ‘80s vibe of the anthemic “Last Dance.” One can’t judge a Raveonettes record by its song titles, either, as tracks like “Gone Forever” and “Suicide” are certainly dark, but never depressing—a testament to this band’s unique ability to balance the shadow and light in all their work.
“Yeah, it’s very important for us,” Wagner says. “It’s important to have contrast in music, I think. If it was just one big, gloomy misery melting pot, then I think it would be a little too much to bear. You need to have different elements in it. I think that’s the key. It’s great to have stuff that’s real life, and it’s dirty, and life is misery, and life is painful, and life is suffering and all that stuff. But also life is wonderful, too, if you know how to live it. It’s a great gift. So there are two elements in there.”
The lighter side of The Raveonettes was further showcased this year during the actual recording of In and Out of Control, as fans were given the rare opportunity to peek in on the band in the studio, chat with them online, and listen to fresh demos long before the album hit shelves.
“It’s a nice little treat for the fans,” Wagner says. “Personally, I hate waiting for bands to make albums. You know, you might not hear anything from them for like three years. I just don’t really appreciate that. I think they should keep their fans happy and give them as much music as they can give them. So that’s why we were happy to put out the demos and stuff. When I was a kid and heavily into Nirvana or some band like that—can you imagine if Kurt Cobain had posted cool little demos every time, and you could actually email him with a question and he would actually answer you? It would have been amazing! So that’s how I look at it. I think it’s great. And the fans appreciate it.”
Suffice it to say, The Raveonettes appreciate their fans, too. In an era when even the best buzz bands can fall victim to the fickleness of a trend chasing public, Denmark’s finest rock ambassadors are still on an upward trajectory.
“I think it’s hard for any band to be a buzz band, because there’s a tremendous amount of anticipation,” Wagner says. “When we signed with Columbia, we had only played like ten live shows I think. And so it was very difficult each night to play in front of so many people who were expecting to be blown away by this new buzz band. A lot of people weren’t blown away, because we were really just a new band and still learning our trade, you know? So it was a crazy time and very difficult. I like it so much better now that we’re a really good live band and we have a lot of albums to prove our worth. We were not just a buzz band that people talked about and then forgot about. We’re one of the few bands from back then that’s still going strong. I think that longevity is definitely the key to a successful career, and I think we’ve definitely proved it so far.”
The Pains of Being Pure At Heart It's Not a Diary Entry, It's Brooklyn's Next Buzz Band By Andrew Clayman Published in The Cleveland Scene (Version 1) and Nashville Scene (Version 2), May 2009
Cleveland Scene:
Obscure subgenres age like a fine wine in New York City, waiting for a generational shift to bring them back to prominence—like Interpol playing post-punk or Vampire Weekend dusting off their Graceland LP. In Brooklyn, the epicenter of all things hip these days, the new-old thing of ’09 is noise-pop, re-championed by a fresh batch of the borough’s most huggable punks. First it was the Vivian Girls, then Crystal Stilts, and now we get The Pains of Being Pure At Heart-- an affable gang of distortion-loving pop tarts who’ve had critics recalling cult heroes like The Field Mice, The Jesus and Mary Chain, and Black Tambourine.
“It’s been incredibly surprising,” says Pains singer/guitarist Kip Berman, referring to the overwhelmingly positive reviews of his band’s eponymous debut LP. “I mean, our standard for success had basically been like Black Tambourine— having 12 people care, and hopefully caring very sincerely. That’s obviously been exceeded now [laughs]. But when we started out, it wouldn’t be unusual to see maybe six or seven people at our shows. And we were psyched about that! If anybody cared, we were happy. So what’s happened now— it’s a surprise, but definitely not taken for granted whatsoever.”
Of all the influences routinely cited in The Pains of Being Pure At Heart’s sound, Black Tambourine might be the least known but the most significant. An early ‘90s, D.C. area quartet, Black Tambourine never released a full-length album, and they broke up before embarking on a proper tour. With historical context, though, they became legends of “noise-pop”— a faux genre of sorts that blended punk aesthetics with bubblegum melodies and thick feedback. With these parallels in mind, it comes as little surprise that former Black Tambourine (and Velocity Girl) guitarist Archie Moore served as the mixing engineer on the Pains’ album.
“We were really psyched to work with (Moore),” Berman says, “because he was in these bands that we admired so much, and he’s a lot more capable mixing engineer than we would have been on our own. In the studio, though, our main goal was just to sound like us. We didn’t want to be artificial or phony or try to do anything that wasn’t natural to us. We just wanted to record these songs that we wrote and loved, and let them stand on their own.”
The Pains aren’t keen on being pigeonholed as revivalists, but part of their reputation as such is a result of their own actions, such as signing to Slumberland Records— the iconic former home to many of the band’s noise-pop predecessors. Berman makes no apologies.
“Once Slumberland showed interest in releasing the album, there was no second thought in our minds,” he says. “The label has such a strong history of releasing amazing American pop music, including a lot of bands we loved growing up. But even more than that, they’re releasing great music by current bands like Crystal Stilts and Cause Co-Motion! I think the Slumberland people are just genuine music fans, and they’ve done everything they can to support the artists they believe in, so we’re very fortunate to be a part of that.”
All things considered, The Pains of Being Pure At Heart are living the pop geek’s dream. Berman, along with keyboardist/singer Peggy Wang, bassist Alex Naidus, and drummer Kurt Feldman, started the band as somewhat of a fanboy novelty in 2007, but to their credit, their music has never drifted from homage into straight copycatism. They can craft a hook with the best of them, and their high-energy shows leave the crowd wanting more. The only question is, will the Pains’ reverence for a band like Black Tambourine entice them to vanish as quickly as they appeared?
“I suppose we could try to solidify our status by committing band suicide, so to speak,” Berman says, “but that’s not really our style. We’re having a really good time playing music and plan to keep doing so, so you shouldn’t worry about us!”
Nashville Scene:
There are a lot of reasons why a song called “This Love is Fucking Right!” has emerged as the most talked-about track from Brooklyn’s new noise-pop kings, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart. First and foremost, it’s the catchiest single off the band’s eponymous debut LP, which arrived to some major fanfare in February. Secondly, to the fanzine geeks of the indie-pop community, it’s an obvious response to the 1989 Field Mice classic, “This Love Is Not Wrong,” making it cooler by association. More than anything, though, people seem really interested in the song’s anthemic chorus, during which singer/guitarist Kip Berman proclaims, “You’re my sister / And this love is fucking right!” Apparently, to some misguided listeners, this lyric sounds like a proud celebration of incest. Rather than mocking the perversity of that reading, however, I think I’ll let Mr. Berman set the record straight himself.
“Well, as far as lyrics go, we generally don’t like to dictate the meaning that a song has to a listener,” he says. “Everyone should be able to have their own feeling about it—there’s not really a right or wrong.” Kip is not helping his case at the moment. “…But I should add that, yeah, that song is definitely NOT about incest.” Phew! What a relief!
Fact is, the word “sister” has been used figuratively in pop music for ages, so no secret subtext there. However, for those who still need a deeper meaning, “This Love Is Fucking Right!” does have a back-story.
“Well, there’s definitely a Field Mice reference in there,” Berman says. “I mean, why have a ‘love that’s not wrong’ when you can have a love that’s ‘fucking right?!’ That’s kind of the feeling of our band in a nutshell. We’re not going to be all apologetic and ask ‘is this okay?’ We’re going to be really affirmative and positive, and if we fall on our faces, that’s fine. We’d rather be sincere and emotionally honest.”
That philosophy has made The Pains of Being Pure At Heart a perfect addition to Brooklyn’s growing noise-pop revival, even though, like their pals Vivian Girls and Crystal Stilts, they deny any involvement in a retro movement. In truth, though, Berman, singer/keyboardist Peggy Wang, bassist Alex Naidus, and drummer Kurt Feldman deserve a lot of credit for paying homage to their influences without shoplifting from them. The touchstones are somewhat obvious—The Field Mice, The Jesus and Mary Chain, Black Tambourine—but the Pains are their own unique force, and they’ve put together a collection of inspired, memorable tunes.
“Our goal was just to sound like us,” Berman says. “We didn’t want to be artificial or phony or try to do anything that wasn’t natural to us. We just wanted to record these songs that we wrote and loved, and let them stand on their own.”
That being said, the Pains didn’t hesitate to sign with old-school noise-pop’s seminal label, Slumberland, nor could they contain their excitement at having former Black Tambourine and Velocity Girl guitarist Archie Moore mix their album. It’s all a part of the delicate line this band walks between 1989 nostalgia and 2009 relevance.
“In the beginning, our standard of success was basically like Black Tambourine—having 12 people care, hopefully very sincerely,” Berman says. “So, to see the response we’re getting now is a huge surprise, but definitely not something we’re taking for granted whatsoever.”
It should be noted that Black Tambourine sealed its legend by breaking up the moment they got noticed.
“I suppose we could try to solidify our status by committing band suicide, so to speak,” Berman says, “but that’s not really our style. We’re having a really good time playing music and plan to keep doing so, so you shouldn’t worry about us!”
Distortion has always been one of indie-rock’s most useful weapons, adding edginess where it wouldn’t otherwise exist, and transforming enjoyable pop songs into abrasive, “challenging” messes that no square could ever hope to appreciate. In the ‘80s, bands like Sonic Youth, The Jesus and Mary Chain, and Guided By Voices took the craft of intentional lo-fi to a whole new level, but it’s just been in the past year that noise has truly made it’s triumphant, wide-scale return to pop circles.
San Diego’s Crocodiles are one of the riders of that wave, following in the steps of high-profile new groups like No Age, Times New Viking, Vivian Girls, and fellow San Diegans Wavves. Crocodiles’ debut LP, Summer of Hate, even comes out on the same label as Wavves, Fat Possum, but it’s a thoroughly different animal. Whereas Wavves hammer out fun, juvenile punk junk, Crocodiles take their lessons more from the British post-punk school of distortion, namely Echo & The Bunnymen (whose 1980 LP inspired the band’s name), Jesus and Mary Chain, and the slightly more psychedelic methods of Spacemen 3. The latter influence especially shines through on some highly enjoyable drone freakout tracks, “Flash of Light” and “Sleeping with the Lord,” but the album’s most circulated cut is “I Wanna Kill,” a dead ringer for a lost JAMC B-side.
(Andrew Clayman) Published in The Metro Pulse, April 2009
