We’ll talk about the book for about 25 minutes. After that, Tom will play a few songs and sign copies of the book. It’s free to attend and we’ll start at 5:30 p.m. sharp! Copies of A Really Strange and Wonderful Time will be available for purchase at the store. Criminal Records is located at 1154 Euclid Ave NE A in Little 5 Points.
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James Brandon Lewis (left) and the Messthetics (Anthony Pirog, Joe Lally, and Brendan Canty). Photo by Shervin Lainez.
With their third and latest album, The Messthetics and James Brandon Lewis, Brendan Canty, Joe Lally, Anthony Pirog, and James Brandon Lewis deliver a compelling blend of jazz and post-hardcore inflections, where Lewis’s saxophone intertwines with rhythmic intensity and experimental tones.
Canty and Lally, best known as Fugazi’s drummer and bass player, infuse the album with their trademark energy anchored by deep grooves. Pirog adds layers of sonic texture amid challenging twists and turns.
Before making their way to Atlanta to play The Earl on March 26, Canty, Lally, and Pirog talked about the creative process behind the album, working with Impulse, and the ins and outs of their favorite songs on the album. Lewis was busy playing a show in Zurich.
How did you meet James Brandon Lewis and start playing music with him?
Anthony Pirog: I met James about 10 years ago during a recording session in New York that the drummer William Hooker organized. It was a quintet: William was on drums, Luke Stewart on bass, Jon Irabagon on sax, James on sax, and I was on guitar. It was for an album called Pillars… At The Portal.
James and I liked each other’s sounds. When the recording was over we went out and got something to eat and started talking. He asked me to record a couple of records with him and to do some touring with him in Europe and the US.
When the Messthetics were asked to play Winter Jazzfest in New York in 2019, I thought it would be a good idea to have James sit in with us. He played three songs, and almost every time we’ve been in New York after that he’s sat in with us.
Joe Lally: We had played the Winter Jazzfest, and it just happened. It was hard to understand what happened because it happened while we were playing live. It was great, but then it was over and James was gone. It’s not like we got to hang out and get to know him or spend any time with him. Later, we were back up there for a show at the Bell House and we asked him to play with us.
This time, we had a little more time to assess him joining us. We got to talk about the song that he would join us on, and what we might do backing him up. That little bit allowed us to get a handle on it, and it felt good. Then COVID happened and a bunch of time went by. It was awful and lonely. At the end of it, we were getting out and playing again, and we were doing a show at Union Pool. James asked us if we would contribute a track to the record he was doing at that time.
And that’s the song called “Fear Not” on his album called Eye of I.
Lally: That’s the song! At Winter Jazzfest, we played the electric Miles “Black Satin,” we did Anthony’s tune “Adonis Painter,” and we did “Serpent Tongue.” At Bell House we did “Serpent Tongue” and we did “Once Upon A Time,” which is a Sonny Sharrock piece.
Anthony told us the day before we went up to play New York that James said if we came up the evening before—if we got there early enough—we could record in Brooklyn. So we went up early and recorded that song with him. We didn’t know what he wanted us to do, but Anthony had played that song with him before.
Pirog: I had only played it once before with him in a quartet in Catania when we had our residency over there.
What did James bring out of the Messthetics?
Lally: We get to be more Mess-thetic!
Brendan Canty: We’re Messthastecising [laughs].
Lally: Playing with James has amplified everything that we’ve reached for and everything that we’re capable of doing, and he has helped us reach even farther.
Canty: Playing with James has allowed me to play a little louder, honestly. He also reinforces a lot of the melody lines that Anthony wrote and turns them into these beautiful soaring pieces.
Anthony and James are good at playing with each other and on top of each other in complementary ways where they sound like one instrument. Anthony supplies these beautiful bell-like transient sounds and James has this big warm body. I hope that doesn’t sound too sexy, but it’s true [laughs].
Lally: There’s a simplification going on within us as far as the writing goes. We’re kind of minimalizing everything to allow for creative ways to carve out spaces that allow James and Anthony to fill in. It’s not like it’s easier to write; it’s that it’s more clear.
Canty: There is a certain level of abandon to these songs which is pretty inspiring. I have always felt that while playing with Anthony. One of the great things about playing with him is that we’re playing on stage and suddenly he’s pushing us to go somewhere completely different just to support him on a journey into cacophony.
Some people view Anthonly as a virtuoso, but I also know that he is the ultimate noise artist. I love being pushed into all of these different areas. James does the same. When people show up and play with that level of commitment and that level of ambition in terms of exploring and pushing the room around a little bit it gets exciting quickly. Every moment of the gig I’m playing catch up, and I’m trying to go with them to these places. It’s a blast.
With Joe and I there’s like an ESP in terms of playing together. We just go there with them. It’s a liberating way to play.
How is releasing an album on Impulse different from working with Dischord Records?
Lally: It’s a hard thing to describe because we have spent all of our life at Dischord. This record has barely come out, so we don’t know what it’s like.
Everyone we’re dealing with at Impulse is nice. There’s a big team there. That’s different. Dischord has like five people that make up the label. At the same time, this is the first record I have done where I feel like it’s just going to go away into the world. With my other records, everything else I’m involved with, it’s like my friend has them. They live there. I know where they are, and they’re taken care of. I feel like they’re being protected. This is the first one that’s going out into the world and now it’s gone.
I have a lot of respect for so many of the artists that I love who were and still are on Impulse. Being on a label with Irreversible Entanglements is fantastic!
Canty: Without getting too much into the business side, we’ve been working with a great bunch of people who seem to listen to us and allow us to control every ounce of content that we want to put out into the world. I’ve made all the videos myself. We’ve shot everything. I edited them all.
What happened, Chad is that we made the record first. Then Impulse heard it and got us excited. I sent it to my friend at Impulse and they said “We totally want to put this out.” So the music came first. I said, “Let me talk to everybody about it. I talked with Ian [MacKaye] about it. He said, “This sounds awesome!”
Everybody was excited about it. It’s working out fine so far. As long as we can keep it on our own in terms of how it’s being presented. They haven’t messed with any of the audio bits at all, and we got to do everything we wanted to do with it.
They didn’t say boo to us about it, about the mixes, or about anything we used. We mastered it. We got Bob Weston to cut the lathes, and they’ve been creative about distribution. They’ve worked with us. So far so good.
Lally: Making this decision about stepping away from Dischord is a really weird idea. Even if it’s just for one record it’s a weird idea for me. At the same time, what we’ve made with James is really different. It’s not like the other Messthetics records. Frankly, it all happened so fast! Brendan passed it along to somebody who is now suddenly saying, “Impulse really likes this!” It was hard to try to do anything with anyone other than Impulse because I was thinking of James and Anthony. We had to do this for them. This is too good. This is the music they’ve worked really hard at making. A huge part of it for me was we have to do whatever we can to see if this can work, and it’s been worth it.
Canty: I want to add that in no way do I ever want this to be reflected upon as us being dissatisfied with Dischord.
Lally: Dischord has always been so supportive of us, and still continues to be family. Ian has always been open to his bands trying different things and answering questions. He gave us his blessing. Working with Impulse for this record is just that circumstantial. The opportunity came up and it felt like the right thing to do for Anthony and James. It’s something that happened at that particular moment. I seriously see us recording for Dischord in the future.
You’re also bringing James’ fans to Dischord, and Fugazi and Messthetics fans to Impulse.
Canty: That’s the thing that’s so interesting about all of this, it’s the dialogue that’s coming with it. Everywhere I book a show in Europe or the US, I’m asking, “Is it this kind of show? We were invited to play the Vancouver International Jazz Festival and the Winnipeg Folk Festival, Hillside Festival, Big Ears, Treefort Music Fest, and Primavera. We’re getting rock festivals, jazz festivals, and folk festivals. It truly makes me feel proud that we’re able to play all those things while making music that I think defies categories. … Even if it’s on a jazz label [laughs].
Anthony, you have worked with indie labels like Cuneiform Records and Sonic Mass. What’s it been like working with Impulse?
I can only say positive things. My first record came out on Cuneiform when I was 32 years old. That didn’t seem possible. Then, hooking up with Joe and Brendan and being on records that came out on Dischord never seemed possible. And now this. I feel incredibly lucky that I’ve been able to work with these outlets.
In the six degrees of separation game, you’re connected to everyone from Moor Mother to John and Alice Coltrane to Minor Threat.
Pirog: Yes, and we’re all still processing that.
Joe, do you have a favorite song on the record?
I hesitate to say, but there’s something about the first song, “L’Orso.” It was such a strange thing for us to get a hold of. I remember when Anthony presented the riff to us, I spent the rest of the day being frustrated about not understanding where I was in the riff. Every time I tried to play it, I was just like, “Oh my God, I almost have it, but where am I? What comes next? I was always so lost in it.
The next time we got together to play with Anthony, I was like, “I don’t know, man. I don’t know if this is entertaining to play. When I tried playing it for him, he said, “Wow, you kind of know it. I haven’t even learned it yet.” I felt like I was banging my head against the wall with it. It was just a different type of song for us. It was a hard one for us to get a grip on, and when we finally did it, it felt great.
Canty: “L’Orso” is one of my favorites to play. I always like the songs that feel like they’re pushing things a little farther than we’ve ever done before. And the melody that Anthony came up with for this one is ridiculous in the best possible way.
I love how understated it is, but it has this really tricky melody. Then James and Anthony destroy all the solos. It makes me happy. Beyond that, I like “Three Sisters” as a whole.
Anthony, what’s your favorite song on the record?
Before I talk about that, I want to say that Joe told that story about learning “L’Orso.” That song is really hard to play, and I wanted to throw that in there. I am very proud of that song, and I am very proud every time I get through the melody.
Brendan brought up “Three Sisters.” I believe that’s the first full song we wrote before we started talking with James—after taking a break during COVID.
And it’s funny because when I played that melody I was thinking of James. I was thinking that’s the kind of thing he would play or hear. He was on my mind even before we were having conversations about playing with him.
My favorite track on the record is “Boatly” because we wrote it together. My memory is that Joe had his baseline in the A section. Then we started playing the groove and I came up with the melody over that baseline. Then maybe the next practice or later in that rehearsal I started playing the chords in the B section. Brendan started singing to the chord, and that became the melody of the B section. Then in the outro, we just worked up this chord progression and we played it a little bit, but it was always like, “Ah, when James gets here he’ll start blowing over it”.
When we got through to that section in the studio, it just took off. During rehearsal, we never played it through the full arc of what it could be. It was like, “This will sound great. We’ll just do it in the studio.” That is my favorite moment on the record because of the overall arc of the piece. It goes where James and Brendan take it to when he’s pounding the rhythms out at the peak. I’m proud of that one.
The Electric Nature, Magic Tuber Stringband (NC), Mute Sphere, and Magicicada play Magic Lantern in East Point on Thursday, April 11. Majid Araim will be performing a sound installation piece between sets. $15 (suggested donation, no one will be turned away at the door). 8 p.m. 2171 Star Mist Dr. SW Atlanta 30311.
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King Buzzo, the singer, guitar player, and frontman of the almighty Melvins joins composer and Ahleuchatistas and Mr. Bungle bass player Trevor Dunn for the long-awaited “King Dunn” acoustic summer tour.
Over the years, Buzz and Dunn have worked together on several projects including Fantômas, the Melvins Lite 2012 album Freak Puke, and on the 2022 LP titled Gift Of Sacrifice. Their most recently released collaborations arrived in 2022 in the form two four-song EPs titled Invention Of Hysteria(Amphetamine Reptile Records) and I’m Afraid Of Everything(Riverworm Records). This latest pair of EPs materialized as pandemic restrictions were lifting, which is to say they haven’t had much time for touring this material together until now.
For those who are unfamiliar, Buzz and Dunn’s paired-down offerings do not yield the full-bore sonic onslaught of distortion and wild rhythms that one gets from a Melvins or Mr. Bungle record. There are no drums. However, when playing one-on-one they craft a spacious atmosphere that ranges from cinematic to downright haunting, summoning a dark ambiance from the natural resonance of their respective voices and stringed instruments. Each song delivers an ominous traipse of psychological and physical tension by subtle but no less affecting means.
Photo courtesy J.D. Pinkus
J.D. Pinkus of the Butthole Surfers, Daddy Longhead, sometimes the Melvins, and more lands in the middle slot, commanding a set of cosmic banjo strumming from the deranged outer limits. It’s all set to a beautifully hallucinatory visual display. Press play below and trip out to Fungus Shui!
Void Manes photo by Buzz Osborne
Atlanta-based abstract electronic project Void Manes sets the night in motion with a dazzling array of modular synths and analogue gear wrapped in a galaxy of multi-colored cables. The one-man outfit explores dreamtime and nightmare soundscapes, striking a balance between atmospheric noise and melody; drones and sub-bass swells that rise and fall in fugue-like moments of rhythms, sonic impressionism, and chaos.
For this show, the group will feature de Man singing and playing guitar alongside guitar player Eric Amata, drummer Mark Carbone, keyboard and accordion player Nathan Green, bass player Daniel Winn, and contributions from Brianna Lynn McGeehan.
McGeehan is also opening the show, playing material from her forthcoming solo record that de Man says is “more Ameri’tronica than Americana.”
Chad Radford: Twenty years have gone by since you released the first No River City album, This Is Our North Dakota.
Drew de Man: That’s right! There were ultimately two No River City albums and a 7-inch. The other album was called Wolves and Fishes. For this show we’re focusing on This Is Our North Dakota. It came out in 2003 and, honestly, I was hesitant to get the band back together. Even for just one reunion show.
I went back and forth about it without talking to anyone most of the year. Then a couple months ago I thought, let’s see what people think. It turns out everybody wanted to do it. It’s kinda last minute. I wish I’d spent more time preparing, and if I’d had a stronger sense of it, I probably would’ve picked a single and paid somebody to promote it. I wish I had acted more quickly on that, but such is life. I’ve always done things by the seat of my pants and have never been the best planner—and it shows.
Why hesitate over resurrecting the group?
The band started in 2001—in fits and starts—before it really got rolling. About a year later, we released our first 7-inch. At the time, it was me and Terri Onstad, and we just did it as a duo with occasional band members joining us, and it traveled well. We got quite far with it, and we had a great critical reception. It was a wonderful surprise to get written about by Magnet Magazine, No Depression, and places like that. But then she and I split up after logging lots of miles and having all the problems that you can have with bandmates.
Then I put the band back together with a proper rhythm section, and that went on for a few years. We broke up and I didn’t think anybody was particularly happy with me. I went through a long journey over the years. I moved to Portland, but I didn’t stop playing music. I left No River City behind me with a lot of resentments and disappointment and self-recrimination. I was a mess toward the end of that run in 2007. Suffering incredibly—alcohol, drugs, and undiagnosed mental illness. For years I built up in my mind how much everybody hated me. But it turns out that wasn’t the case.
When you revisit the older material now are there new dimensions to the music that you didn’t realize before?
Yeah, very much so. The main takeaway for me is that back in those days I started writing songs because I wanted to play music. Songwriting was attractive to me. I’ve always been a writer, but I was never sure how to go about doing it, or what kind of material to make except I knew that I loved folk music, country, and Americana. So I went that way and wrote a bunch of songs, just a lot of inventions and stories and narratives. Some were grounded in reality. Others were fictional narratives and ideas. You write what you can write and you get where you get with it.
Revisiting them years later, I realize that I was telling my story in all caps the whole time, and not realizing there’s stuff about drinking and sobriety. There’s stuff that describes my struggle with mental illness perfectly—even though I had no clue that’s what I was going through—and perspectives and notions about life and my worldview. You examine these things and understand them differently. Looking back, I was really just truth telling without realizing it.
Does that energize you to play the songs differently now?
After I moved to Portland, I went through a lot of different experiences of making music. I went to school for music therapy. That’s where I met my wife. I played in other peoples’ bands and worked with a bunch of other songwriters. I came to discover that what I really believe—and this is the metaphysical or spiritual dimension of songwriting—is that they’re living creatures that you brought to life. Some of them, more so than others.
Keep them alive or not? I guess I have enough sentimentality or attachment to, or love and respect for the things that I brought to life to keep them alive. If people don’t sing songs, they die. But it’s difficult to sing these songs now because I’m a better songwriter now. I’m a different person now. With many songwriters, when you hear your old writing you cringe. But everybody tells me they’re great songs, so I take it in stride.
Does it feel like the right thing to breathe new life into them?
Yeah, and it feels right to honor the art that I made. We got national airplay out of these songs!
We broke up before the internet really changed music. YouTube was hardly a thing. We had MySpace in 2007! Now, the massive tidal wave of music that comes around every year just kind of expunges any musical history unless you get big.
I picked up the ball too late to do some things with the music. I’ve thought about a vinyl release, and I’ve thought about going through and finding outtakes or alternative versions of songs—at least one song—from that record that we recorded, but didn’t include. But I don’t really have a plan at the moment. If it happens, it’ll happen next year.
What songs are you really sinking into again?
There are a few of them that tell their stories in their own way. In terms of ones that resonate positively with me there’s a songs called “Corrinne” that’s kind of a lovelorn ballad about trying to find a person and reunite with her. She’s living on the West Coast so it’s kind of a quest to find her and rekindle what you had. That in and of itself is like telling a story that I did, and later it sort of came true.
The cool thing about that one is that when we perform it I’m actually gonna play pedal steel. That’s particularly cool for me because I’ve loved that instrument since I was a kid. But I was always daunted by the thought of trying to learn it. I spent a lot of my time when I was making these alt. country records and playing around thinking that I would have somebody else play it occasionally. I never was able to find someone who would be a permanent pedal steel player, and now I understand why. It’s hard to get your money’s worth out of being in somebody’s band. A lot of us are older guys who’ve spent a decade or two learning the instrument.
Getting back to “Corrinne,” I did not play the pedal steel part on the album because it was just kind of a mystical fetish item to me. A guy in Nashville where we recorded the record played a pedal steel part. In the intervening years, I picked up the instrument and spent a lot of time touring on the West Coast with various people, playing pedal steel. Now, I’m a pedal steel player. It would only be fitting for me to play that one on the steel. Brie’s gonna play the acoustic guitar part, and I’ll play steel on that. That’s one way to turn it around and make it especially gratifying for me. To me, there’s real magic in that.
Tell me about Brianna’s new album, which you described to me as “Ameri’tronica.”
She and I both agree, we love Americana and folk music, and it’s totally in our wheelhouse. But she’s less interested in it these days. So am I, although I could turn around and go make another Americana record next year, if the feeling struck me. But I’m gonna honor her position and branch out. For years I have said to myself every time I wanted to make a record, “Why don’t I just buy some gear, learn to use it, and make my own records?” And I’m like, whoa, it’s very daunting. It’ll probably take me years to figure it out. So I’ll just pay somebody for studio time. That ends up being an impediment to learning how to do it yourself.
We reached the point where I was said, “If we’re gonna do this, it’s gonna be very experimental and exploratory, so let’s get some gear.”
It’s really exciting, after years of making acoustic music and folk music and rock ‘n’ roll, sitting with a MIDI controller and working on electronic beats of samples and stuff. We want to go in many different directions with it, focusing particularly on beats that are danceable and engaging for people. So it has elements of—I hesitate to say EDM because of the connotations that has, at least for me—electronic beats. Bri is playing a lot of electric guitar on it, and she’s not gonna play any acoustic guitar. That’s bold! But she has a wonderful voice. She’s one of the best singers I’ve ever worked with or known. So it’s song centric and it’s centered around her voice. We’re not planning to have me sing, even though we do a lot perfect harmony together, that’s not gonna be a feature. It’s really gonna focus on weird sounds and a pastiche, cut-up approach. Disparate elements, juxtapositions of sounds, and a mix of acoustic and electronic instruments.
It’s a very different approach for us in every sense of the word.
All three bands on stage this evening feature longtime friends who cut their teeth in a more civilized era of hardcore, post-hardcore, and indie rock—the ‘90s. Now, they’re elder statesmen of the scene, raising the bar high while fusing furious rock, noise, and angular riffs without pretense. It’s called experience, kids.
Photo courtesy of Blood Circuits
SCRATCH OFFS: Photo by Steve Pomberg
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American primitive guitarist, improvisor, and co-founder of psychedelic drone-folk trio Charalambides, Tom Carter makes a rare solo appearance in the intimate settings of a private home studio in Scottdale. All are welcome. BYOB.
Sat., Dec. 9. Donations of $5-$10 are greatly appreciated. Music starts at 10 p.m. 322 Patterson Ave. Scottdale, GA 30079
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