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Michael
Azerrad
Interviewed
by Gavin J. Grant
BookSense.com:
Where
did the idea for writing
Our
Band Could Be Your Life
come from?
Michael Azerrad:
It came to me when I saw a 10-part documentary on the history of rock music.
I had watched the whole thing and was waiting for the segment on punk rock,
which is the first rock movement that I directly experienced from the start.
And sure enough, they got up to the Sex Pistols and the Ramones, and then they
skipped straight from Talking Heads to...Nirvana. Whoa, they skipped a whole
decade! What happened to American indie rock bands like Black Flag? Hüsker
Dü? The Replacements? Sonic Youth? I was sure I'd somehow blacked out for
10 minutes and missed that part. But of course I hadn't -- they had just totally
ignored that incredibly interesting and influential community.
And I thought about
how American indie was routinely left out of most rock histories, like it never
happened, like something out of George Orwell's 1984.
"Someone ought to do something about that," I thought to myself as I kicked
back on my comfy couch. And then it occurred to me: "Do it yourself!"
But I knew this
was a populous and sprawling community; a thorough profile of its every resident
would take the better part of a lifetime. So I took a representational approach,
choosing 13 bands that not only illustrated key steps in the way indie rock
evolved throughout the '80s, but embodied a particular philosophy, sound, or
place, or unleashed a legendary and influential personality upon the world.
It's very important to stress that I didn't consider bands strictly in terms
of musical worth -- if I had, the bands profiled in Our Band Could Be Your
Life would be somewhat different.
Were you a big
fan of these bands, or did you just decide someone had to write about them?
I was a big fan
of most of those bands, a few others I didn't know much about. I'm not going
to tell you which ones!
The thing is, I
made a conscious decision not to write about those bands as a fan. A lot of
folks are put off by indie rock's cliquishness, and I didn't want to write in
a voice that scared off people who didn't already know the subject. I wanted
to write with proper journalistic distance because the subject merited it.
What was it
like interviewing people about events that occurred 20 years ago? Were the stories
consistent, or did they vary from person to person?
Well, first of
all, the book does go to as recently as 11 years ago, but I take the point.
Time does have a way of distorting memory; it can't be helped. There was a fair
amount of the "Rashomon" phenomenon, but nothing of much consequence.
(Teetotalers, I quickly found, have much more accurate memories.) And after
15 years of writing about rock music, I have a fairly accurate b.s. detector;
I could often gauge people's recollections against contemporary accounts of
the same incident, like fanzine articles, other people's recollections and by
the yardstick of sheer common sense. Although I strived for absolute factual
accuracy, sometimes a historian has to be content with poetic truth -- so who
knows, maybe it wasn't a bunch of ashtrays hurled at Beat Happening in
Reseda in 1990, maybe it was only one. But to them it seemed like a bunch,
and in some ways, that's the important thing.
Who was the
hardest to interview -- and, conversely, who was the easiest?
There really wasn't
anyone who was difficult to interview -- after all, these people had already
agreed to talk, so it wasn't like they were doing anything against their will.
But Mike Watt was definitely the easiest to interview. That guy can talk, but
the thing is, it's all really interesting and terrifically inspiring. He was
the first interview I did for the book, and his energy propelled me the whole
length of the project. I can't say enough about that guy.
Do you think
you'll write more about these bands, or about the indie underground of that
period?
This book was
as definitive as I could make it, so I don't plan on writing about the subject
again. Besides, I'm interested in a very wide variety of music, and I plan to
do something completely different for my next book.
That said, there
are plans for a documentary version of Our Band Could Be Your Life and
I'll be the writer on that. Nothing's definite yet, though.
Were you ever
in a band? If so, did you ever tour?
I've played drums
in bands on and off since I was seven years old. And I'm in a band now -- we're
called the King of France. You can check out some of our music at our
website. We're shopping around for a label right now.
And, yes, I have
toured a couple of times: Once with the King of France, and once with the now-defunct
Five Chinese Brothers. It was fun and it was miserable, but it was mostly fun.
I've also tagged along on tour with Skeleton Key and Nirvana, which were both
incredible experiences.
The touring
stories are perhaps the most awful and awe-inspiring (especially the Butthole
Surfers), from living in cars and vans to getting banned from towns. Do you
think music still has that strength?
I've got to wonder
about whether a band can still get banned from a town. Lately, it seems that
people have their minds on more important things than whether a rock group is
doing something shocking.
But one thing's
for sure: bands are still living in their vans. And bless them for that.
Do you think
keeping it's important for bands and local scenes to keep it small and local
(at least at first) so that they can find their own feet?
Well, it can be
big and local, too! But yes, it's good to develop a local following for many
reasons. The DC scene that Dischord Records and Teenbeat Records helped to foment
is a great model for the rest of the country -- there's an artistic and social
affinity there that is very supportive and rewarding. On a more strictly musical
level, keeping it local allows you to hone your live show (and your lineup)
before you take it out of town. And if you develop a strong local following
first, it will get you better out-of-town gigs -- and better record deals, too.
And it's useful to have a regional identity -- from Liverpool to Seattle, people
have always liked to associate bands with the town they come from.
Where do you
see the influences today? Do they extend outside of music?
The influence
of the American indie scene of the '80s resides in popular bands from Weezer
to Slipknot. But there are far more musicians who were inspired -- but not necessarily
influenced -- by that scene, and that can extend to anyone from classical players
to techno artists. Those people might have imitated the modus operandi of the
indie scene in terms of do it yourself venues, labels, periodicals, etc., not
to mention all the grassroots networking that was the lifeblood of the indie
rock community.
And, yes, the
influence does extend beyond music. After that scene made its mark on the mainstream,
"indie" was considered something hip and desirable instead of merely marginal
-- that's something we take for granted now, but it's important to remember
that it wasn't always like that. That idea glamorized everything from independent
film to microbrews. And indie's distrust of corporate America couldn't have
been more prescient.
Did the bands
of the time provide an infrastructure that present-day bands can use to tour
and produce and sell CDs?
Absolutely. Those
bands blazed a trail that today's musicians are still following. There are plenty
of clubs that rose up in the wake of the '80s indie movement that are still
in business, and there are many more that are in existence because those original
clubs proved it was financially viable. Same goes with recording studios, music
distributors, record stores, fanzines, etc.
Do you see any
movement in music today that is similar to the indie underground of the 1980s?
Yes, there's a
new hardcore scene that's made up largely of very young people that has that
grassroots, hey-kids-let's-put-on-a-show quality that the early '80s scene did.
They put on gigs wherever they can and spread the word with fliers and websites
and e-mail chains, and sure enough the shows are packed without any mainstream
media support. It's a beautiful thing.
What are you
reading?
In
Patagonia by Bruce Chatwin. Just finished Edna O'Brien's biography
of James Joyce.
Do you have
a favorite bookshop?
St.
Mark's Books in the East Village. I have to be careful about walking in
there because I always want to buy everything in the store. It's also one of
the very few bookstores left in the city where you feel like intellectual movements
are nurtured.
If you worked
in a bookshop, what would be on your staff picks shelf?
I must confess
I don't read much current literature -- I'm still trying to catch up on the
old stuff. So here are 10 essentials:
Up
in the Old Hotel -- Joseph Mitchell
Pale
Fire -- Vladmimir Nabokov
A
Handful of Dust -- Evelyn Waugh
Exercises
in Style -- Raymond Queneau
Invisible
Cities -- Italo Calvino
The
Day of the Locust -- Nathanael West
The
Third Policeman -- Flann O'Brien
Between
Meals -- A.J. Liebling
The
Master and Margarita -- Mikhail Bulgakov
Waiting
for Godot -- Samuel Beckett
Our
Band Could Be Your Life
Author photo
by Joel Azerrad.
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