Shane Parish returns, this time performing a solo set of acoustic numbers from his most recently released albums, 2022’s Liverpool (Tzadik) and 2024’s Repertoire (Palilalia Records).
The Athens-based guitarist is the driving force behind the math-punk mania of Ahleuchatistas, and is a member of the Bill Orcutt Guitar Quartet. Armed only with an acoustic guitar, Parish leads an emotional, contemplative journey, where each song becomes a new canvas for his introspective artistry.
“Parish possess a seamless ability to rise above his highly evolved technical skill level as an improviser, arranger, and composer, always allowing the true beauty of the music he’s playing to shine above all else.”
Robocromp is a duo featuring Atlanta saxophonist Jeff Crompton (also of Anagrams) and Chattanooga-based guitarist Rob Rushin. Together, they channel an eclectic blend of avant-garde jazz and experimental rock into mostly original numbers and occasional covers by Ornette Coleman, Abdullah Ibrahim, and the likes.
$15. 8 p.m. Sat., Sept. 28. First Existentialist Congregation of Atlanta, 470 Candler Park Dr NE.
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Corndogorama: The Musical. Photo by Sam Feigenbaum
Corndogorama is back!
It’s been eight years since our friend David Railey—a veritable Vanna White to Atlanta’s indie rock scene—hosted the Corndogorama. The DIY summer music festival is known for its casual community-oriented atmosphere and marathon of local bands on stage.
This year’s resurrection may have seemed like a Record Plug event to the uninitiated. The magazine was a key sponsor and a curator of this year’s lineup, as we sought out and rallied the bands to play all three days—June 21-23, 2024. But make no mistake, Corndogorama is the brainchild of—and the birthday party celebrating—Railey’s decades-long tenure in Atlanta’s music scene. Remember his bands? American Dream? Ancient Chinese Secret? Casionova? Day Mars Ray? Jesus Honey? The list goes on. Corndogorama has endured countless ups and downs since it kicked off at Dottie’s on Memorial Drive way back in 1996.
This year was wrought with an equal number of ups and downs. But hey, we raised $2,515 for Upbeat: The Tigerbeat Foundation for musicians, a non-profit organization dedicated to getting struggling independent musicians back on their feet via an emergency grant program.
Over the years, my [Kip’s] bands (Haricot Vert, Freemasonry, Chocolate Kiss, Clemente, Victory Hands, et al) have played various benefit shows. Oftentimes I never heard how the numbers turned out, so I wanted everyone to know what their collective efforts raised.
The attendance for Friday was decent, Saturday turned out great, and Sunday was a bust. But that’s okay. Three days in the June heat is a big ask. But the bands played on, and we appreciate every one of you who came out, said hello, and watched the show.
It was three days of musical triumphs and logistical catastrophes: No Corndog eating contest? No vendor tents? No flip-flop parade, no ass-kissing booth? No Topo Chico! That sucked! Oh well. It’s been nearly a decade since the Corndogorama went down, and some skills have to be relearned. We’ll be back next year stronger than ever.
Saturday’s crowd warmed our hearts, and it helped cover the whole weekend’s production costs. I [Kip] personally want to thank Amos, Van, and the whole A Rippin Production crew for keeping everything running smoothly, despite Saturday’s murderous heat. They put in the work and kept the costs low to raise as much as possible for Upbeat. Thanks are also due to Shane Pringle, Tim Song, and Boggs Social & Supply, who selflessly took no money from the ticket sales. They worked the full weekend, relying on bar sales alone to cover their end. It’s a good thing y’all drank so much.
Shane’s band Bad Spell tore up the outdoor stage on Saturday.
Pabst Blue Ribbon was an excellent sponsor, donating kegs and money, and Music Go Round saved our tails by loaning us the outdoor backline. Topo Chico! Where were you? We waited for you with bated breath and hope in our hearts, but you left us hanging.
Ups and downs. Maybe we’ll see you next year.
A sincere and exhaustive shout-out goes to all the bands that performed throughout the weekend; those who gave their time and delivered stellar performances reminded us of why we’re in this in the first place. And we know it’s a labor of love to practice even a short set, haul yourselves and your equipment across the city to the venue, put on a show under the squelching summer sun, and then break it all down, load it up, and lug it all back to the practice space.
Absolutely 100%, Corndogorama would not have been able to raise a single penny for Upbeat without your time and energy. We’re sending the most sincere thanks to all of you. There were too many bands to name here, but we see you, and we love you. All of you. Thank you for sticking by Corndogorama (see what we did there?). See you next year! Until then, check out Alexa Kravitz and Sam Feigenbaum’s photos from Corndogorama: The Musical. — Kip Thomas (with some help from Chad Radford)
The strange case of Melts’ long-lost album Salicoutinäw begins in the winter of 1994. Drummer Andrew Barker, bass player Jo Jameson, and the group’s singer, guitar player, and principal songwriter Theo X had made the long haul from Atlanta to the snow-covered landscape of Minneapolis to record their full-length debut. After releasing the “667” b/w “Crusser” 7-inch single a year earlier on the Greensboro, NC label, 227 Records, the group was primed to cut the LP with 227. The label’s owner Jay Boone did the footwork, made the connections, and lined up a few days of studio time with engineer Tim McLaughlin at Amphetamine Reptile Recording Studios.
A few years earlier, the New York City-based noise rock outfit Helmet had become the subject of a major label bidding war. Ultimately, Helmet moved away from their home at AmRep to the more mainstream auspices of Interscope Records, to release their 1992 classic album Meantime. As a result of so many major labels clamoring to sign Helmet, AmRep Studios had become a well-funded, well-outfitted resource. Along the way, engineer Tim “Mac,” who also played bass with Minneapolis’ noise punk provocateurs Halo of Flies, had become a respected studio hand.
“Some of the members of the bands Today is the Day, Mickey Finn, and Godplow had all spoken positively with us about recording with Tim Mac,” X says. The Melts frontman prefers using his pseudonym when discussing the band. “We were excited to work with someone who was well-versed in the language of recording loud and noisy music.”
After all, it was the early ‘90s. Nirvana was ascending to new commercial heights after releasing 1991’s breakthrough album Nevermind. The word “grunge” was splashed across newspaper and magazine pages worldwide, culminating in a clearly defined but increasingly clichéd sound and fashion trend—the grunge look.
Theo X at the L5P Pub circa 1991. Photo courtesy of Melts.
But beyond the mainstream’s myopic vision, an underground noise rock scene flourished, culminating in an era of sludgy, antagonistic, and guitar-heavy bands such as Cows, Unsane, Hammerhead, the Jesus Lizard, Skin Yard, Cherubs, Melvins, and more churning out raw rhythms and distortion that moved at the speed of molten lava.
The sheer sonic intensity of Melts’ thunderous rhythms wrapped in a penchant for debauched antics drew a wild, sometimes confrontational element out of the audiences who’d come to their shows.
Barker laughs when he recalls narrowly avoiding a scuffle one night when Melts shared the stage at Dottie’s with Cat Power and King Kill 33.
“We played the show and this guy got right up in my face,” Barker says. “He wanted to fight me or have me come back to his friend’s house so we could have a drum competition. He wanted to show that he was a better drummer than me. At first, I thought he was joking but it got a little intense until Jo stepped in and talked him down.”
On another night, Melts were kicked out of the Clermont Lounge for getting naked on stage and lighting a 500-count roll of Black Cat firecrackers during their set.
“The style of music we were playing wasn’t much of a genre yet,” X says. “We had a lot of good samaritans coming to us along the way telling us we were tuning our guitars wrong. The songs we recorded for the album are tuned in B. It’s low, and sound guys would come along and say things like, ‘Hey buddy, let me help you with that guitar so we can get it tuned the right way.”
In conversation, Jameson casually mentions the name Ernie Dale, pausing only for a second as X laughs. The former soundman for Little 5 Points’ fabled former music dive The Point, was well known for not putting up with foolishness of any kind.
“Ernie is great, but if you had something that Ernie deemed to be a bad sound, he wanted to mentor you out of it,” Jameson says. “He couldn’t believe that we were intentionally making these sounds.”
Jo Jameson of Melts. Photo by Jenn Brown
Stories like these, coupled with the down-tuned guitars, heart-pounding drums, and the wide-eyed crawl of songs like “Grape,” “Jackdaw,” and “Cotton Hol” earned Melts a reputation as Atlanta’s answer to sludge metal pioneers the Melvins. But the 14 songs on Salicoutinäw stamp in time a singularly creative and distinctly Southern group that defied expectations, rather than simply adhered to trends.
When promo CDs of Salicoutinäw were mailed to college radio stations the album quickly gained traction. Salicoutinäw even broke the CMJ LOUD 100 chart in 1994. But when a pressing plant failed to deliver the first pressing of finished CDs that had already been paid for, the high cost of working in the music industry in the ‘90s added up too quickly, and 227 Records went out of business. The promo CDs, featuring a primitive, last-minute cover illustration, had a greater reach than the finished product.
By the band’s estimation, maybe 100 copies of a later second pressing of the CD made it into the public’s hands. But it was too little too late. The group received boxes of CDs with the proper cover art, but any distribution 227 Records could’ve offered was long gone, and any steam the group had built up went with it.
“I was blown away by Melts the first time I saw them,” Boone says. “I also adored them as individuals—still do! That’s why I have no animosity or was ever bitter about the shortcomings of the record. I still believe they could’ve done very well, but like so many things in life, shoulda, coulda, woulda isn’t worth dwelling on too much.”
With Melts, the 227 situation was only slightly better than the fate of their Athens labelmates Harvey Milk whose self-titled, Bob Weston-recorded debut album was shelved altogether. That album finally saw the light of day in 2010 when Hydra Head pressed it to vinyl.
Melts’s debut album has remained in obscurity ever since.
“It derailed me,” Jameson says. “The tedium of working on a record—putting so much time and energy into it—and waiting for it to arrive was frustrating. Ultimately, Theo and I parted ways over it. I was pushing for us to rehearse and to play more shows. I was all of 24 years old and was a booger-eating moron. I had no idea how many roles [Theo] juggled with everything from negotiating the release to playing the music. As we’ve discussed in the last couple of years, we misunderstood what each other said,” he goes on to say. “I had quit the band in his eyes. I didn’t intend for that to happen, but whatever I said drew a line in the sand. He had so many responsibilities with this band. I was shortsighted about it. But we’re adults now, and 30 years later, I see it.”
Not long after Salicoutinäw’s botched release the lineup dissolved. Jameson and Barker joined alternative country and Americana singer and songwriter Kelly Hogan’s band to release her debut album, The Whistle Only Dogs Can Hear. Jameson also did a stint playing with Archers of Loaf frontman Eric Bachmann in the band Crooked Fingers.
Photo courtesy Andrew Barker.
Barker continued playing drums with the outsider jazz ensemble Gold Sparkle Band. He still regularly performs and collaborates with various artists around New York City.
From there, X kept Melts moving forward with new members over the years. In 2003 he moved to Fort Collins, CO where he started working with the psychedelic Americana outfit Little Darlings.
Now, 30 years later, a self-released double LP pressing of Salicoutinäw has rekindled the group’s true power and allure, pushing the music and the English language into mysterious new realms of the imagination, while planting the band firmly in the present.
Jameson and X started playing music together in 1984 under the name Saboteur. They were high school kids by day, but their nights were spent practicing in X’s parents’ basement in Smyrna, crafting a hybrid of quasi-hair metal and thrash punk. By 1988, the band name morphed into Sabotortoise while they landed gigs at Atlanta’s storied downtown venue The Metroplex, opening up for nationally touring acts including LA Guns, Faster Pussycat, and Humble Pie.
Back then, X went by the moniker Ted Sunshine–different bands get different pseudonyms.
Melts was christened in 1990 when X and original drummer Tim Jordan recorded and released a cassette tape of early material titled As Noisy As We Want To Be.
Jo Jameson (from left), Theo X, and Tim Jordan of Melts. Photo by Steve Gaiolini.
Over the years, various members cycled through the group. In 1991, filmmaker Chad Rullman who later directed Mastodon’s “March of the Fire Ants” and “Iron Tusk” videos played bass in Melts. A year later, Jimmy Bower of NOLA sludge band EyeHateGod played bass for a stint.
Jameson’s initial run with Melts started in 1992 and lasted through Salicoutinäw. In 2021 he was welcomed back into the group. Original drummer Tim Jordan also returned to the lineup.
Since his early teenage years, X’s writing style with lyrics and band names has remained somewhat impenetrable. Everything from changing the first band’s name to Sabotortoise to an album titled Salicoutinäw to belting out songs titled “Vaccua 8 #3,” “Lessie,” and “Crusser,” X sculpts a jumble of words, letters, and numbers smashed together creating a wholly new mode of communication.
While pointing to the words on the album’s original cover, which is fully restored for the vinyl release, he explains them as though they are a Rosetta Stone to understanding his mashed-up style.
“On the cover you have ‘Sao’, like the Tao, and ‘sow’ like a mother pig,” X says. “You’ve got ‘Sally’ and then you’ve got cooties! And then chicken coop,” he says before phonetically singing, “Just like the white-winged dove sings a song, sounds like a chicken/Baby coop/Chicken coop. I borrow a lot of lyrics from Michael Jackson, George Michael, Madonna, and Stevie Nicks,” he goes on to say, “but I run them through a semantic discombobulator that turns them into some fresh pudding.”
To be sure, X’s lyrics evoke an absurdist’s sense of humor that lies somewhere in the vicinity of Marcel Duchamp’s dada-esque wordplay, Naked Lunch author William S. Burroughs’ cut-and-paste techniques, the Rev. Howard Finster’s primitive folk art, and an ecstatic Southern Baptist speaking in tongues. Still, his dynamics exist in their own avant-garde funhouse of meanings. Salicoutinäw opens with “Weu know t’live must two/ Yer muther sells sunduh the blackiss/ But under won is a vacuum/ Every tin’shy.”
When spelled out, the syntax appears to be nonsense, but it all makes perfect sense to him.
“It’s kind of like, before people were referring to music as emo, this was my version of that,” he laughs. “It certainly seems to have been very therapeutic.”
Jameson chimes in, adding in a deadpan voice: “You’ve just been granted unlimited access to step inside the mind of Theo X. Be careful in there.”
X continues describing his use of language as an amalgamation of emotions, energy, and warped synapses that he channels into Melts songs.
“My brain might have developed in a way that is slightly abnormal or has some sort of organic brain damage,” X says. “I have been around heavy metals, solvents, and thinners—in railroad car quantities—my whole life. Like, 50,000 square feet at a time in the middle of July and August with no ventilation. Also, my academic interests are in language and semantics, especially within religious texts.”
Melts circa 2024: Theo X (from left), Tim Jordan, and Jo Jameson. Photo by Steve Gaiolini
During the COVID-19 pandemic, Jameson found himself listening to songs from Salicoutinäw after so many years. “I thought, ‘I really want to put a needle on these songs. Can we press just one or two copies so that I can have it on vinyl?’”
Pressing up such limited quantities of the record wasn’t feasible, but it started a conversation that brought X, Jameson, and Jordan together to play music. Their reconvening yielded a proper double LP release of Salicoutinäw. But there were hurdles to overcome before they had records in their hands. Chief among them was the artwork.
In the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, the way to store big digital files for personal computers was on a removable 44- or 88-megabyte SyQuest drive. “It was about the size of an old 8-Track tape,” Jameson says.
They could be taken to Kinko’s, for example, where layout, design, and scanning were completed. The user would then pay for their time on the computer. The technology is long antiquated. After digging up X’s old SyQuest drive, the group’s friend, Record Plug Magazine’s Creative Director Andrew Quinn connected them with a specialist in California who was able to retrieve the files. After decades of gathering dust, everything was still in working order. Quinn led the efforts in reworking the album’s cover art and the insert, which includes a timeline of the band and everyone who was a part of it.
X, who produced Salicoutinäw made no alterations from the original recordings prior to handing them over to Morphius Records for vinyl production.
A record release party had to be booked. Barker played on the album, but Jordan is the band’s current drummer. X and Jameson delicately approached Jordan to float the idea of bringing Barker down from New York to maybe play three songs for the show. Jordan’s reply: “That sounds amazing! Let him play the whole show, I want to see that! I never saw Metls with Drew playing drums!”
As a historical document, pressing Salicoutinäw on vinyl is a necessary step in correcting the past for Melts. It also gives the group solid ground to move forward once again. They pressed only 200 copies of the LP because “We think we can sell that many and not have them lying around for years,” Jameson says.
While they don’t have new material in the works, there is a tremendous backlog of older Melts songs that have never been recorded, including a follow-up album that X wrote, called Melts Inc., which was named after X watched all the episodes the “Melrose Place” spin-off series “Models Inc.”
“Because the first one failed so catastrophically to meet its audience, we made a pact to work through some of the older rehearsal tapes and live recordings before we say, ‘Let’s write a new song,’” X says. “We’ve been rekindling some of that, and there is a lot of that stuff lying around, so there is more to come.”
It’s difficult to believe that it’s been eight years since the last Corndogorama set up with its summer fair vibes with local music galore—nearly 40 bands and two DJs and fire performers are on deck for this weekend.
The long-standing Atlanta tradition returns this year, taking over Boggs Social & Supply on the Westside with three days of deep-fried good times. … Yes, there will be veggie corndogs for the veggies who walk among us, and the celebrated corndog eating contest goes down Saturday afternoon at 4:10 p.m. Who will eat the most corndogs, and how many can they keep down? This is an endurance test that’s not to be missed.
Saddam Death Cave’s Planned Obsolescence EP proves that the hardcore struggle is real, and life’s daily tormentors grow increasingly difficult to rise above as time passes. The 10-inch record’s collective resume channels decades of Southern punk, hardcore, and alternative rock pedigree: Guitar player Marlow Sanchez is an alumnus of All Night Drug Prowling Wolves, Rent Boys, and Swing Riot. Bass player Brian Colantuno played in Mission To Murder. Guitarist Mike Brennan played in Otophobia and still plays in Primate with Mastodon’s Bill Kelliher. Drummer Keefe Jutice was in the Close. Vocalist Gray Kiser fronted Winston-Salem’s straight-edge crew Line Drive.
With Planned Obsolescence, these statesmen of the scene tighten their focus to hone a classic hardcore charge, fusing experience with razor-sharp riffs and manic rhythms. Kiser’s visceral, powerful voice in the opening number, “The Last Living Mountain” is a fiery rip on rising above repression and the mechanisms of societal control. “The Gods They Made” follows through with a high-speed agit-snarl that hits on an existential level. “Aging Well, Aging Often,” Midlife Christ,” and a breakneck cover of Naked Raygun’s “Rat Patrol” vacillate between moving at a full-throttle pace, and proving that humor goes a long way, as fighting the age-old tyrants—authoritarianism, social control, and complacency—culminates here in 10 blasts of passionate, intelligent hardcore. SDC plays them like they mean it.
NOTE: Since the Planned Obsolescence EP was released, co-founding bass player Colantuno has parted ways with SDC. Ex-Otophobia and 12 oz. drummer and guitar player Elliot Goff has joined the group playing bass.
SDC’s first show with Goff playing bass is at Disorder Vinyl on Sun., June 23. They’re playing Athens at Buvez on Thurs., July 18, and at Boggs Social & Supply with Dayglo Abortions on Wed., Aug. 7.
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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.
Rad/ATL 