Wolf Parade

I think we had a pretty good idea of what we wanted to do. And for us, we just really wanted to keep it simple.

story by Marlene Thompson

Montreal quartet Wolf Parade has packed a whole lot into the seven years they’ve been making music together: three full-length albums, a pair of EPs, touring the globe, and a slew of side projects that range from membership in bands such as Handsome Furs and Arcade Fire to studio engineering work. But they still feel the need, the drive and, somehow, the energy to come together again to make music as Wolf Parade — often employing their trademark mix of haphazard guitar riffs, keyboard grooves and yelp-yodel vocals. With their new album, Expo ’86, the band has smoothed their rougher edges with a more rock-oriented release, making you want to take the earplugs out and let the music surround the room. Drummer and sound engineer Arlen Thompson takes some time to talk to Chicago Innerview and offer a clue as to why Wolf Parade is such a prolific band, even after taking the occasional year-long hiatus.

Chicago Innerview: Between your second album At Mount Zoomer and your new album Expo’ 86, you took a year-long hiatus. Do you feel that was a good strategy as songwriters?
Arlen Thompson: Yeah, I think it was pretty good for us. I think because everyone has a lot of other projects they like to work on. And I think it just gave an opportunity for everyone to just do their own thing for a while. That’s kind of the benefit because people still, you know, get all these kinds of different creative energies. And I think it was good because when we came back off the break everyone, you know, was feeling like they had done their thing and we were ready to put all our attention into Wolf Parade. Yeah, it was kind of nice. It worked out well. Everyone came back fresh and ready to make another record.

Chicago Innerview: Do you think you’ll do that for future albums?
Arlen Thompson: I think that’s something we’re going to do. You know, Dan [Boeckner]’s got Handsome Furs, you know, Spencer [Krug]’s got projects too, so I think it just works out easier for everybody. Kind of like, when it’s time for Wolf Parade, it’s time for Wolf Parade. You know, put other things aside. I think it works better for the band. We’ve always had a problem with, kind of, maintaining our focus in some ways. So I think having, you know, definite kind of times where we’re working or not working works for us really well.

CI: The songs on your new record sound more distinctive of you guys as a band, meaning you hear it and you immediately know it’s Wolf Parade. Do you feel Expo’ 86 has captured more of a Wolf Parade sound than your previous records?
AT: Well I think we’re more comfortable with this record, like the whole process of songwriting and recording and all that. I think we had a pretty good idea of what we wanted to do. And for us, we just really wanted to keep it simple. We’ve kind of realized over the years that the biggest strength to this band is how we play together — you know, as people, you know, our live show and all that. So we really just wanted to harness that and we kind of focused on the songwriting and the recording to kind of enhance that. We just kept the production really simple. We did everything in a really condensed time frame compared to our other two albums. So we kind of got the whole [album] recorded in, I think, in about four months.

CI: That’s quick.
AT: Yeah. Well, that’s pretty quick for us [laughs]. We just kind of wanted to get down and really focus on it.

CI: So what bands or artists are you listening to now?
AT: Actually after I got off this tour, I haven’t gone to the record store yet. I’m trying to think of new bands…I know Dan played me some of that band Salem. Pretty great. And then, you know, I like a lot of what my friends are doing, so I have to go pick up the new Black Mountain and the new Arcade Fire. Keeping up with your friends’ bands keeps me kind of busy.

Wolf Parade :: with Wintersleep and Ogre You Asshole :: House of Blues :: November 23.

Owen Pallett

…the entire U.S. is governed by the need to make enough money to live. In Canada you don’t have to make money to live; you need to make money to eat, but even then we kinda got your back.

story by James H. Ewert Jr.
photo by Ryan Pfluger

When Chicago Innerview spoke with Owen Pallett, the Canadian crooner was in the midst of a press blitz touting his fourth full-length recording, Heartland. Pallett was cooped up inside a Chinatown studio in New York City working on the musical score to Rabbit Hole, filmmaker John Cameron Mitchell’s latest movie. Unlike other Mitchell films like Hedwig and the Angry Inch and Shortbus, Pallett noted that this one won’t have any “dicks and cunts,” but that it would be a “serious Hollywood melodrama.” Since then Pallett has shed the guise of his recording name Final Fantasy and begun playing under his own name, a fitting decision given the musical vulnerability that Pallett displays on Heartland. By Pallett’s own admission, Heartland is more ambitious than his previous efforts. The violin virtuoso said there are no disclaimers for this record and that listeners can expect to hear a more self-assured Pallett in all his glory.

Chicago Innerview: You’re working on a film score. How is that going?
Owen Pallett: It’s a score for a movie by John Cameron Mitchell, who did Hedwig and the Angry Inch and Shortbus. The movie’s called Rabbit Hole. Nicole Kidman is in it. No dicks or cunts in this one; it’s a serious Hollywood melodrama. I’ve been involved in a few different [film-related] things and unless you work for like Hans Zimmer, everybody has their own kind of style. Me, I’m pretty ghetto and prefer to just have the producers trust me, so I don’t do midi-markups because often you can draft up kind of like an acoustic version of the score, but I try to avoid that because I’d rather they just like the inflection of where the music’s going. With this movie I had already written a few pieces before John even started shooting and then he shot while they were playing in the background.

Chicago Innerview: Growing up in Toronto, what were your thoughts about the U.S.?
Owen Pallett: It’s very complicated. This year I’ve spent more time in the U.S. than any other period of my life and it’s still really bizarre to me to see all the differences. The U.S. is just so huge and diverse. Portland, like you could just pick up that city and drop it somewhere in Ontario and it would just fit right in. At the same time though, it’s such a travesty that culturally, the entire U.S. is governed by the need to make enough money to live. In Canada you don’t have to make money to live; you need to make money to eat, but even then we kinda got your back. And it doesn’t breed a race of lazy people or even complacent people. It’s really funny to me. I do see there are people in Canada who are not as driven as hard to succeed and perform and definitely all my friends in New York work much harder than my friends in Toronto, but I don’t know a single person in New York City who is not on anti-depressants — like everybody, everbody! Do you know how many people I know in Toronto on anti-depressants? Nobody, nobody! And if they are it’s sort of like a taboo, like you’re almost embarrassed to say so.

CI: Have you had a chance to spend much time in Chicago?
OP: Actually I spent my first vacation with my boyfriend in Chicago and Cinncinati, so I’ve hung around a little bit. It’s too big. Not, like, the population, but it’s so spread out. But I haven’t really found a sweet spot in Chicago, like a place or neighborhood I can really come and go to and hang out and feel comfortable. My favorite thing in Chicago is the waterfront in the summertime. The architecture is really spectacular as well. I would say the one thing I really hate about Chicago is the subway stops with the same name, that’s really annoying. It’s a pretty well-planned city, but that’s something you guys gotta fix.

CI: Do you read your press?
OP: I read everything and everyone I know reads everything. I’m not lying. I think maybe Winn and Regine [from The Arcade Fire] don’t read their reviews, but everyone else I know read their reviews. I’m not exaggerating.

CI: Have you ever read something you took issue with?
OP: No, not really. The majority of the music-listening public doesn’t shit about what they’re reading about. Please don’t think that I’m dissing them in any way, but most people who are making music know a fuck of a lot about chord changes, compressors, and writing lyrics, and vocal techniques and shit like that. They just know it instinctively. And then when you read people commenting on music and trying to talk about how something is flat or sharp or how this musical phrase is trite, most of them don’t know what the hell they’re talking about actually. Like, my music does not sound like musical theater all, if you listened to any musical fuckin’ theater you would know. But it’s been said so many times that I can’t help but accept it. It’s a music writer’s job to be a good writer, not a good musician.

Owen Pallett :: Lincoln Hall :: April 10.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

I try to keep [rock and roll’s] roots alive.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club Tickets

story by Caroline Evans
photo by Tessa Angus

Talking to Peter Hayes is like talking to a spy who is closely guarding classified state secrets. The Black Rebel Motorcycle Club guitarist and lead vocalist is tight-lipped, secretive and never gives you anything unless you ask for it. And even if you ask for it, he doesn’t always give it to you.

Case in point:

Chicago Innerview: So what are some of your favorite songs on the album?
Peter Hayes: ‘The Toll’ and ‘Aya’.
Chicago Innerview: Why?
Peter Hayes: They captured moments for me personally.
Chicago Innerview: I hate to pry into your personal life, but can you be more specific?
Peter Hayes: No.

To be fair, Hayes doesn’t have to tell me anything. He and his band have been successful enough over the past 11 years that they don’t need someone like me telling you to listen to their new album, Beat The Devil’s Tattoo. They’ve survived being dropped by multiple labels, an experience some artists would call frightening, but Hayes calls freeing. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, featuring new drummer Leah Shapiro of The Raveonettes, wrote the album in a friend’s house near Philadelphia. From dawn to dusk, they played music until Beat The Devil’s Tattoo emerged. “It was nice to have that freedom,” Hayes says hoarsely, “the ability to play when you felt like it without the stress or pressure of a label.”

Those familiar with the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club canon will recognize the signature droning vocals, dirty guitar distortion and haunted Americana sound. When I remark that it really does sound like the devil’s music, Hayes laughs a little bit. “That’s what they called it back in the day,” he says. “I try to keep the roots alive.”

We chat a little longer, mostly about bands he’s listening to, and he tells me Elvis Presley was a big influence on “Conscience Killer”, but the sore throat he’s nursing seems to render him for the most part unresponsive.

I have interviewed enough musicians over the years to know not to expect most of them to say anything too profound. They are profound in their music; that’s why we love them. I’ve had my share of disappointing and mediocre interviews (usually in cases in which I wasn’t prepared), and I’ve been disillusioned before when interviewing personal heroes. But that doesn’t make them any less musicians or give their music any less worth. Yet, I can’t help being surprised at my disappointment after hanging up the phone with Hayes. Maybe it was the realization that he really didn’t have to tell me anything, that he really didn’t need me, that no musician needs us like we need them.

It wasn’t Hayes’ fault the interview went so poorly. Maybe he was sick. Maybe he had a rough night. Maybe the 27 minutes I had him on the phone weren’t enough. Maybe he just didn’t have any answers.

Simply put, Hayes is one of the greatest rock musicians alive today. He is a legend and an icon to many of our generation. Perhaps it was folly to expect anything more.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club :: Metro :: March 25.

The Kills

Bands in the ’60s and ’70s were more interested in art. Today, it’s all about merchandising. People focus on sales when those older bands were cherished for being interesting, not popular.

story by Derek Wright

Jamie “Hotel” Hince is inside what seems to be a stone warehouse in Birmingham, England. “I can’t fucking hear a fucking thing,” the British half of The Kills says as he hops back on his cell after it dropped the first call mid-conversation. “This place is so fucking loud. Everything is echoing, and my tour manager is running around trying to set up more fucking interviews, and the connection is fucking quiet and sounds like shit. I can barely hear in this fucking place.”

Suddenly, the guitarist pauses to collect himself, takes a breath, and his tone returns to being as tempered as it was before this brief outburst. “I’m sorry,” he says, sounding almost embarrassed. “I just want to make sure you get what you need. What was I talking about, again?”

For the past 15 minutes, the songwriter had been discussing the slightly altered direction of the new Kills album, Midnight Boom, which landed stateside in March to a slew of warm reviews. Although the bluesy duo — comprised of Hince and Alison “VV” Mosshart — didn’t make a drastic leap structurally on its third LP, sonically the dozen tracks are crisper than anything in the band’s 8-year catalog. Boom’s cleaner sound is a point of contention for Hince, who insists that it contains the same energetic bursts as his previous material. And while it is underscored by the same sensuality as 2002’s Keep on Your Mean Side, with hints of the anger that No Wow channeled two years later, this captivating third release does so with a far less voyeuristic feel. The band’s first two records oozed an accidental sexuality, the kind of beauty that lurks in seedy motels beneath the smeared eyeliner and dangling cigarettes of heroine-chic models. If the band’s previous records reeked of hangovers and strutted along in a broken high-heel with unkempt morning-after hair, then Midnight Boom is the “before” photo: starry-eyed, gorgeous and ready for a night on the town.

But the dropped call offers a chance to switch topics and gives Hince the opportunity to step back from defending his latest output against those who might label it as being too corporate. It’s a fresh start to the conversation, and the moment of pause is similar to the way in which The Kills have dealt with confusion throughout the band’s career — as evident by how one band member handles poor cell connections. There’s the knee-jerk snap reaction, followed by a calm and then the acceptance of realizing that some misunderstandings are out of their control. By no fault of their own, Hince and Mosshart have long been victims of accidental association. The Kills’ debut was released the same year as those by (and I’m not shitting you here) The Thrills and The Stills. This was also right around the time that a band called The Killers started to experience some success. Which would have been a hard enough distinction if the blues-rock duo wasn’t already having to tackle an even stronger association to the male-female pairing of The White Stripes.

Hince’s voice is cautiously strained when discussing the perception of Midnight Boom, as if he should be guilty for the less-challenging output. Yet as the conversation switches to the April 19 “Record Store Day”, which took place a few days before the interview, the performer perks up with an energy reserved for people who feel like they’ve done something right. As part of last month’s global promotion to bolster sales and appreciation for independent outlets, The Kills slated an in-store performance at Manchester’s Piccadilly Records. Though it was canceled due to sound concerns, the convictions that drew the London-based duo to participate in the event were evident.

“It feels like that’s in my blood to support that,” Hince said. “Where I came from, all the music that I grew up listening to was the DIY of bands like Fugazi and Bikini Kill. That is what I grew up wanting to be a part of. Keeping the independent spirit is one of the reasons we signed to Domino and wanted nothing to do with a major label. There were only two labels we wanted anything to do with, and the other was Rough Trade.”

As it stands, the group has a May performance scheduled for the Rough Trade building as a follow-up to the ill-fated Piccadilly gig. It will give Hince a chance to bask in heart of indie aesthetic, not to mention stump for the upcoming photo book which chronicles more than two years of the band’s travels. But when Chicago Innerview finally secured a good phone connection with him, he still had a few questions to answer about his newfound pop sensibilities…

Chicago Innerview: Are you tired of answering whether this is your ‘pop’ album?
Jamie Hince: No, I’m not tired of it. I’m interested in it, in a way. The album is kinda revealing itself to me over time. People are asking why it’s more accessible or whatever, and they want to know if it’s a move to a commercial record. But I think The Kills is a band that needs to be judged over eight or ten records. I’ve said this before, but I take people calling this a ‘commercial record’ or ‘more accessible’ as an insult.

Chicago Innerview: Because that implies you sat down and calculated these songs with sales in mind? Just saying that these songs might appeal to a broader audience isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
Jamie Hince: I don’t want this to sound arrogant or whatever, but I just don’t care about that sort of thing. It’s not in my blood, and I don’t have that part of my brain to support that. It’s the same way that I don’t care about money; that part of my being never developed I guess. I can’t get excited about finances or thinking about anything other than just creating.

CI: But without making some money, you can’t afford the time to be creative. It’s a trap.
JH: That’s the record company’s job. That’s the way they work now. It’s all about bottom line and making a profit. That’s just the way the world is now. People want an immediate return on things, instead of allowing bands time to grow and explore things besides music. I wish there was more time for other projects, to do more profound things that have a lasting impact.

CI: Without the notoriety of being in The Kills, would those other projects get noticed?
JH: I know my place. I’m a musician first. If [people on the street] ask what I do, I say ‘I play in a band.’ I don’t say, ‘I’m a musician and a photographer and an actor and an artist and a filmmaker.’ That’s a bit pompous. But even if The Kills aren’t a band, we’ll keep working together creating something. It’s about all types of ideas.

CI: Like Andy Warhol’s Factory? A collective of projects?
JH: That was always the motivation behind our band. I love that scene, and you couldn’t talk about that art scene without talking about The Velvet Underground. Even though they were a band first, they always were connected with that artist movement. Bands in the ’60s and ’70s were more interested in art. Today, it’s all about merchandising. People focus on sales when those older bands were cherished for being interesting, not popular.

CI: So it’s about retrospective perception?
JH: I’ve never really been into ‘bands of the moment’. Where I came from [a small village outside rural Newbury, England], no bands came through. We learned about music from our sisters and our sisters’ friends. At school, you’d see a guy a few years older, and you’d think, ‘oh my God, what is he listening to?’ So all the music I loved as a kid was always three or four years behind what was happening now. Most of them already had broken up. It created a sort of myth about them and built to the legend. When you hear these current ‘amazing’ bands, most of them are disappointments. Or if you do hear a good band, they’ll probably sign to Sony and become a con six months later.

The Kills :: with Telepathe :: Metro :: May 9.