words: SAM EDWARDS
It seems like you’ve taken quite a creative approach to the new Throwing Muses anthology. Can you tell us a bit about it?
I don’t like going back in time as much as my drummer does [laughs]. I sort of put the project in his lap, he’s very good at taking stuff like this on. The anthology has been talked about for the last decade, so he had plans! I had none. He not only did the packaging, but most of the sequencing and the song selection. I just made sure that we didn’t put anything… fake on it, I suppose. We weren’t a band that lied very often but we were tempted to play along every now and then. And those songs that play nicely with the industry I find weak, and not timeless. I wanted to make sure that there were no moments on it that weren’t timeless. That way when we play it live, it can fly; it can still speak to us… 20 years on it doesn’t sound dated. It would hurt my feelings if we sounded dated. Because the songs we chose are “real”, they’re still vibrant, they’re still nice to play. We played last night – just a few hours ago actually – and it didn’t feel like going back in time, which as I said, would be a little cringeworthy for me.
How does your experience of playing to an audience differ nowadays to what it was in the 80s and 90s?
It’s a little more comfortable I suppose, because I used to be afraid of the songs… I thought they were gods and devils. Maybe they were, maybe they are! [laughs] I’ve gotten used to that and I’m prepared for what happens to me when I perform, which is sort of embarrassing and wholly engrossing at the same time. My whole thrust is to go away when I play the songs, whether it’s live or in the studio. And actually, ‘going away’ is freaky – it’s not comfortable. It’s kookier than I am. So now I’m ready for it and the audience is ready for it and we’re both just working to make sure something happens between us in the room. I trust the audiences to be responsive, and I trust them to let me go away.
The band was pioneering at the time of formation: two frontwomen singing candidly and confidently about emotive subjects was a big deal. Do you think attitudes in the industry have evolved since then?
I don’t pay a lot of attention to it actually – I’m not sure I would know. I have always endeavoured to work on my own planet, and when the industry began to collapse I realised that this was my opportunity to finally do so. But I don’t really know what the industry cares about and how it acts any longer because I don’t need it; my listeners are there and I can reach them through other channels. So we just talk to each other, and in fact they support all of my bands – 50FootWave, Throwing Muses and solo projects. They pay for all the recording costs and that sort of means it’s a closed circle of gratitude…we’re thanking them and they’re thanking us. I don’t really need to concern myself with anything else. The press I do is all with smart people who care about music, which is sort of what I experienced in the past; if anybody wanted to talk to me it wasn’t because… well, it wasn’t for any other reason. [laughs] We never became popstars and we weren’t very interesting! So that hasn’t really changed for me. I find journalists are still smart people who care. I don’t really have any other impression of the industry. You guys are my only window!
It’s good to have that closed circle – like there’s a product, and a known consumer of that product. It must be great to be liberated and not have to be influenced from the outside. I’m sure lots of artists would love to be in that situation.
Absolutely. I knew I wanted to be in that situation when I was 14 and we were trying to work, which is all we ever really did. I knew that if we did suck, we would die. It’s a tough situation to be in. I found it was easier to be in the industry when I felt like we were about to be disappeared. Because when you’re on the edge of a cliff you’re not going to suck, you’re going to do your best not to die! (laughs) And we always felt that way – that we were about to be disappeared by the industry – and that made us try our best for the music rather than water it down. It’s tough. They talk you into watering down your product and watering down yourself. Now that can’t happen any more.
Do you think that signing to 4AD, a British label, had an effect on the direction of the band?
I think so now, but at the time we were stupid kids – we didn’t know what was going on! I didn’t see how we could be removed from our very American context and understood, but I think we were. I think it actually helped that we came from outer space. Because they’re very intelligent listeners and they don’t context, they need resonance. They need to think that you aren’t lying to them. And they responded to us very kindly. They responded by going nuts, which is, I think, very kind!
You could say that “alternative” music has been absorbed into the mainstream much more than when Throwing Muses started out. What’s your understanding of ‘alt’, if such a thing exists?
That term used to hurt our feelings! We didn’t know what they meant by it (laughs) Alternative to what? Real music? Then it became an actual accepted term. I think when we started we were called ‘indie rock’… We just wanted to be a rock band, we didn’t know why rock couldn’t just change along with us. But I came to appreciate later that in the bands we were playing with – Volcano Suns, Dinosaur Jr – within the noise there was a similar, song-orientated feel to what we were doing. And I think that style was then absorbed and I suppose, in that way, accepted.
But style is not substance. I think the reason we sounded that way was because our substance was being spat out, in a fashion. But the ‘fashion’ isn’t really going to do anything but liven it up, and it can actually fool you into thinking there is substance where there is none. So what I thought happened to our style when it was no longer underground is that it got pretty stupid. Not to sound bitchy or anything! When bands don’t speak their own language – when they adopt another style – they’re not working from the ground up; they’re not working from their substance. I guess I am being bitchy, I’m sorry! [laughs] It’s just the industry again, taking a sound and just spinning it out until there’s nothing left, trying to make money, you know…
Why did you come together as a band to release the anthology and go touring?
We have always worked, we never broke up. We just no longer had the funding to be on the road or in the studio. So the fact that we’re now listener-supported and in the studio making a record made it seem like it was time to be back out on the road, and an anthology is a great excuse to do so.
Your autobiographical book Paradoxical Undressing was released here in January. What made you decide to write it?
I didn’t really mean to! This whole diary was just an interesting point in my life that seemed to be repeating itself; it was when I was beginning everything. And I was at a point when I was beginning everything all over again. I found the diary just not as embarrassing as I thought it was [laughs], so I began turning it into what was essentially a non-fiction novel. And it took four years to realise: to identify the story arcs within a real life, to remember people who are now dead, remember their voices and idiosyncrasies, and I got sort of addicted to getting up in the middle of the night with my dog and just time-tripping back to 1985.
When I was done, it was a book that was not specific to me; I know it’s idiosyncratic, but I think that the universal nature of one’s idiosyncratic story is publishable. I think people can relate to it. So I just tried it! I just tried publishing a book and I was surprised. It’s now in its fourth printing.
Q: The line-up of Throwing Muses has changed a few times. Does the current incarnation feel comfortable and permanent?
We became a trio for Red Heaven, as part of our ‘starting over outside the industry”’ thing, which lead, ironically, to our most successful records. Leslie Langston, our original bassist, played on that record, but because she couldn’t do the Red Heaven tour we replaced her with our then roadie, Bernard Georges. Twenty years later, he’s still here and is, in fact, the bass player in 50FootWave as well. I feel pretty darn comfortable with Bernie; he’s a talented musician as well as a dear friend, and uncle to my children. This band is a family and sort of… has to be. I wouldn’t know how to take chances if I didn’t love my band mates.
Q: You’ve done some epic song covers with the band in the past. Are there any tunes you’d love to cover but haven’t gotten around to?
I always thought we could do justice to Hank Williams… I just write too many songs. The record we’re making right now has 38 songs on it! I guess we feel like we have to record our original material first, then we run out of time and money. And then of course, there’s always the “what are covers for?” argument. If you love the song, why wreck it?
Q: So you play The Gate in Cardiff on Tue 8 Nov. Have you visited Wales before?
Yes, I played Caerphilly Castle on the Sky Motel tour. Beautiful.
Q: What bands are making you smile at the moment?
I love The Moore Brothers, out of California. They play in their own language without imitating their favourite musicians – a pet peeve of mine. I don’t see how imitation could come more naturally than your own muscles’ impulses. So many bands who are considered to be groundbreaking musicians are just amalgams of other bands they admired when they were younger. The Moore Brothers are more special than that. Stranger and sweeter.