Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Comedy By the Numbers: The Interview


Comedy how-to books are often either dry and humorless or so completely focused on mechanics they miss the most important thing you need to be funny – comic inspiration. Eric Hoffman and Gary Rudoren have written a truly amazing book in Comedy By the Numbers, published by McSweeney’s. It’s simultaneously a satire of how-to books and a useful compendium of all things comedy. They explain everything from sight gags to race humor, breaking down the principals and providing a loving history of stand-up comedy, all with the constant realization that no book can make you funny. And if that weren’t enough, they’ve provided a few video lessons over at Super Deluxe.

I caught up with them by e-mail recently to talk about the book and comedy in general. Thankfully, they do not take my comedy geek questions too seriously.

Do you think you have to be a die-hard stand-up fan to get anything out of the book?

ERIC: Hopefully there's enough there to satisfy any taste. And if a reader doesn't know who an Edgar Kennedy is (the King of the Slow Burn Routine), then maybe they'll check out one of his films and become a fan. That's a happy little story, isn't it?

GARY: Not just stand-up, I think you need to be a die-hard “I like to laugh” fan. We hope people who love stand-up, improv, sketch comedy, making fun of other’s flaws, Jews, the elderly, funny names...etc... will find this book valuable if only to discover more ways to laugh. If you aim to be a professional funny person, you should know your bits & shtick – sometimes if only to avoid them.

Are there any comedy books you consider valuable?

ERIC: Some of our friends have written some great books on comedy. I think the best "how to do comedy" books are the ones that tell you how they made your favorite comedy shows or movies. The Mr. Show book is a great one for that. Sid Caesar's autobiography is quite inspirational - all the "Your Show of Shows" stuff. As far as just straight on comedy books, all of the Python publications are top notch.

GARY: I echo Prof. Hoffman’s choice – Kudos to you, Eric. Also I would add to the library; early National Lampoons, MAD Magazines, Woody Allen’s short stories and essays and also a great book by Garry Marshall called; Wake Me When It’s Funny.

Did you find your editors at McSweeney's were comedy fans? Did they understand what you were trying to do?

GARY: We’re not just going to say they were great because they’re going to read this interview. Dave Eggers and Eli Horowitz were incredibly supportive and we appreciated the fact that they trusted their gut to say that if it was funny and smart to them (a McSweeney’s trademark I think) then it will appeal to a bigger audience. They don’t exactly do focus groups over there.

ERIC: McSweeney's knows what they're doing, comedy-wise. We were on the same "page" as it were from the very beginning. It was a really fun process.

There's an obvious appreciation for comedy history in the book, along with a dead-on satire of all the little tricks and habits. Was that purposeful? Was it hard to strike that balance?

ERIC: There were a few pieces that were thought to be a little too "tributey." There's also a lot of what you would call "dumb" stuff. But that's how we wanted
it, for the sake of variety.

GARY: I think it was important to let the reader know that we were not just two smartasses making fun of the latest comedy fad. We’ve been immersed in this for a long time, have a great mutual appreciation for the process and part of the vibe of the book that we were shooting for was to point out to the casual reader that there ARE some comedians who think all you need to do to make something funny is throw in a hackneyed stereotype. Hopefully, some of the youngsters who buy the book (and it’s totally recommended for kids or anyone who has $14), will learn more about the history of comedy before they repeat it. I’m sorry, this answer could have been funnier, I know.

Do you make a distinction between highbrow and lowbrow comedy? I know others have asked similar questions, but it seems like the best stuff (Woody Allen's "Sleeper" or "Love and Death," Monty Python's "Life of Brian" or "Holy Grail") balance clever material with an unabashed appreciation for a fart joke or someone falling in the mud.

ERIC: That's the very formula we tried to emulate. Everything from pathos to crap jokes.

GARY: Nick, you might have unwittingly inspired Eric to come up with a new marketing slogan for the book! Thanks! I’m sure there are dry definitions out there distinguishing between “high brow” and “low brow” but I think you just named a few great comedy examples that play around with both so-called styles (which because of the inherent cleverness in THAT, could let one label the whole thing as ‘high brow’) – I would also add Mel Brooks to that list for so much of his work. Proving yet again, that the Jews are incredibly funny. Monty Python, if they had had a Jew in their group, would still be working today if you ask me!

Did you get a lot of suggestions from other comedians? I know some are mentioned in the acknowledgments, and it seems like every comic would have one or two hacky comedy concepts they'd want to vent about.

GARY: Early on, when we were putting the list together, some friends & collaborators at The Annoyance Theatre in Chicago, like Matt Walsh, shared our obsession with putting together this list – and it was just a list at the time – of bits, shtick, characters, devices, etc. that so many comedians use. Eric and I later come up with the idea to deconstruct them and create a book trying to explain comedy as if it were an easy formula. Maybe it’s arrogance, but we purposefully didn’t reach out to other comedians for some of their ideas because we felt we were on the right track. Bob Odenkirk, who is not only incredibly funny, but really is a student of and KNOWS comedy, was instrumental in pulling us through the process, but also very respectfully hands off – most concretely, he contributed a phony bibliography that is hilarious. Naomi Odenkirk, who is really responsible for getting the book deal rolling and who was a constant source of editing feedback, was our sounding board and bullshit meter as the book progressed. Is this answer long enough? Sorry, Eric, no time for you to say anything.

Do you guys get to perform together much anymore, given that you're in different cities? Are you working on material for Super Deluxe?

ERIC: Sadly, the various book performances have been the only time Gary and I have performed together in years. And working with Gary is very much like
slipping on an old comfortable toupee. It's a very safe place.

GARY: I guess I’m the old comfortable toupee in this scenario – fine, I’ll take it from you Eric. Along with the live shows, the Superdeluxe videos were a lot of fun to shoot. We’ve got some ideas for more ways to expand the universe in which the “Prof.” and the “Dr.” bring comedy to the masses... stay tuned.

Did you plan the video shorts while you were planning the book or after?

ERIC: Right on the heels of finishing the book we cemented the "deal" with Super Deluxe and began writing right away.

GARY: Yeah, somewhere towards the end of the book, the “what if” idea came up to use these videos to promote the book – and it was a no-brainer for us because we agreed on the style right away. Bob Odenkirk, who directed them, gave us some feedback to tighten them up and was on board with the style. Neil Mahoney, a cameraman and editor who Bob works with, and Bob really nailed it in the final cuts of the shorts.

Would you collaborate on another book? Is there more to be wrung out of this concept?

ERIC: Well, comedy does come in threes, so it would make sense to do at least two more. Maybe an entire book on mirror routines? I can dream.

GARY: The book started out as a pamphlet, so I’ve been thinking that we should do a couple of more pamphlets first, then work our way back up to a booklette and then a tome of additional comedy bits. I’ve already catalogued, for future reference, the “Genius Who Lives At Home With His Mom.” (i.e. Will Ferrell in Wedding Crashers; Kevin Smith in Live Free or Die Hard; and Anthony Anderson in Transformers)...oh, and also, the great comedic bit; “Snapping Rubber Glove” (this bit always gets a laugh from the audience who is glad they are not the character who is about to get cavity searched, you know, in their anus – also combines well with a #144 from our book (The Double Take))

What else are you guys working on now?

ERIC: I'm working on the latest Snuz Brothers shorts with Jay Johnston for Super Deluxe. (www.superdeluxe.com/sd/series/snuz_brothers/) We're in the sound effects stage, which is the most fun of all the Snuz stages. They should be ready in a few months. Also, I'm working on a few things with Bob Odenkirk. Is it childish to refer to them as "top secret"? I hope not, because that's what they are. And I have a bit in "The Brothers Solomon," which Bob directed. Hilarious movie and a lot of fun.

GARY: Just yesterday, Sept. 10th, I was working on watching my children being born. Twins! The Rudoren name will live on. I can already tell that one of them has a highly developed sense of irony. Comedy wise, I’ll be boning up on those knock-knock jokes the kids love...they still love them, right?

Friday, September 7, 2007

Paul's Not Dead

I buy new Paul McCartney albums because I’m glad he’s not dead. Not the greatest reason, I know, but I grew up a Paul McCartney geek, a big Beatles fan who bought everything Beatles related that made it to the shelves. This was the eighties. John was dead, George never toured, and though I loved Ringo, as both a drummer and a music fan, McCartney was the one guy I thought I might get a chance to see someday.

Alas, McCartney never came to Rochester, NY or Buffalo to promote Press to Play, Off the Ground, or Flaming Pie. And since I’ve been in Boston, I could never pay the ticket price when he came through on one of his mega-stadium tours. But I can manage to pick up the occasional new release.

Which brings me to the latest disc, Memory Almost Full. Thanks to his Starbucks synergy, McCartney has made a big dent in the charts since he released the album last month. You can buy a glorified danish, a bucket of caffeine, and Paul McCartney’s soul all in one place.

It may seem a bit childish to accuse McCartney or anyone of selling out at this point – that boat seems to have sailed at this point, never to return. But Starbucks? Why not just give everyone a free download with their Happy Meal. And McCartney may want to rethink the close-up in the new iTunes commercial where he’s tripping along with a weird, blue face and basset hound eyes singing “Dance Tonight.” I can’t tell if he’s happy or paranoid or maybe just stoned. Well, okay, probably stoned.

But despite all the publicity and posturing around McCartney, the reality is that the music isn’t bad. There is always just enough of what I love about McCartney – still one of rock’s most talented melody makers, bass players, and singers – to make me glad to have him around.

McCartney still has a wet weakness for drippy ballads, “See Your Sunshine” and “Gratitude” fit that bill here. They are sweet, breezy, and disposable. Listen to more than one in a sitting and you’ll get a stomach ache like you’ve gotten a batch of bad fudge. There’s a difference between silly love songs and just plain crap, and McCartney has always had a problem drawing that line.

It seems like more of the same when the strings kick in on “Only Mama Knows” before McCartney rips into a classic Wings guitar riff. And there’s a little dirt under the fingernails in the story, about a bastard child wondering why he was born and if he’ll ever meet his father.

“Mr. Bellamy” is odd little story song, with the title character standing on a ledge, apparently contemplating suicide, with McCartney providing the voice of the main title character and the workers on the ground trying to coax him down. It’s a nifty piece of pop with an angular piano melody set against a bouncing vocal melody. But then, Genesis covered this ground more effectively nearly forty years ago on Nursery Crime’s “Harold the Barrel.”

“House of Wax” is a complex and engaging soundscape (just don’t listen to hard for the lyrics), and “Nod Your Head” manages to be heavy and goofy at the same time, trafficking dissonant guitars and keys. And McCartney sings it like he means it – he really wants all of you to nod your heads. Okay, Macca, just for you, just this once.

If you’ve ever been a McCartney fan, it’s hard not to get sucked in when he hits that Little Richard falsetto at the end of “Vintage Clothes.” And you can feel what’s been tugging at him when he sings, “Don’t live in the past, don’t hold onto something that’s changing fast” and then dives right into the nostalgic “That Was Me,” a great head bobbing rocker. He lets loose with his classic wail toward the end, singing, “When I think that all this stuff can make a life, it’s pretty hard to take it in.”

“Feet in the Clouds” completes that trilogy, and it’s almost a plea for help. McCartney has been very public about wanting to preserve his legacy, thinking he’s getting short shrift with all the continuing Lennon worship. It’s clear he wants to be cool, too, but the irony is that when he tries so hard to show what he’s done and what he’s still capable of, it sounds forced and he winds up looking like a wanker. “Feet in the Clouds” is pleasant, happy sounding melody – contrast that to the lyrics, which sound like something McCartney might actually repeat to himself every time he hears Green Day sing “Working Class Hero” – “I’ve got my feet in the clouds/I’ve got my head on the ground/I know that I’m not a square/As long as they’re not around.”

And for the contingent out there who don’t actually give McCartney his due, let’s be clear. This is the man who wrote both “Helter Skelter” and “Eleanor Rigby.” His ripping guitar break on “Taxman” is pure rock and roll. He pushed the Beatles into weird places on Sgt. Pepper and provided simple, sublime melodies for everything from “Hey Jude” to “Blackbird.” And again, there’s that voice and that bass. Rock and roll would not be the same without him. He would have to be the most insecure guy in rock history to question that, but that’s always been part of his motivation. It’s what led him to write and record “Why Don’t We Do It In the Road” for the White Album, and that was at the height of the Beatles’ popularity.

It’s a shame McCartney will probably never get past worrying about his legacy. Most musicians would kill for his toolkit. And his true talent isn’t fading as much as it is just buried by his worst instincts. But as long as Paul’s not dead, there’s a chance I’ll get to see a flash of that, and even that little flash is enough to keep me coming back.

Keep swinging, Paul. I’m pulling for you.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

New stuff on the way


If anyone has come back here looking for updates, you may have noticed I haven’t posted in a few weeks. If you like what you’ve read, I’ll be posted regularly again soon. I have been busy with work and a vacation recently, but I’m also rethinking my approach a little. I don’t want this site to be a place where I deposit every useless thought that occurs to me, and believe me, there are a lot of them. I want this to be better crafted than that, and I have also been told that the content needs to reflect the title more readily, and I’d have to say I agree. I’d welcome any feedback about that, as well. Drop me a line at nick@nickzaino.com and tell me what you think.

Until then, here are a few random thoughts:

It’s depressing to me that there are ninety-six Romneys in the world, and they’re now traveling in a group stumping for Uncle Mitt. That’s apparently just the ninety-six who happen to have a summer to kill. Someone should paint “The Boys from Brazil” on their tour bus. I can’t even name ninety-six members of my family, living or dead.

George W. was out on his father’s boat, the Fidelity III, in Maine a few weekends ago. What happened to Fidelity I and II?

Democrats and Republicans are in full gerrymandering mode now, trying to redraw districts to maximize their election gains. Here’s another approach – think of some relevant ideas that might appeal to people in the districts as they exist now. That way, you won’t have to fart around with protractors and crayons.

Republican presidential candidate Mike Huckabee has been showing off his rock band, the Capitol Offense, on the campaign trail. Does anything look more unnatural than a politician with a guitar?

I interviewed Mort Sahl for an article that appeared in the Boston Globe on Friday, and he had a couple of nuggets that may resurface here later in the context of a larger piece.

On trying to find comedy in current events:
“Life outdistanced art, unfortunately. You can’t use the exaggeration you used to because everything is credible.”

On his worldview:
“It’s optimistic but I don’t know if it’s justified.”

When I told him the philosophy of this blog, “Things suck, but they’ll get better.”
“It’s been a long intermission, I have to tell you. Especially in the comedy clubs.”

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Music Review: The Silos Come On Like the Fast Lane

Like the Silos’ best work, Come On Like the Fast Lane is gutsy, a little sparse, and often deceptively joyful. Walter Salas-Humara’s songwriting has always been steeped in the past, whether he was nodding at the Stones on the Silos’ early alt.country classics or the Velvet Underground with his guitar-heavy art rock leanings later on. This time, Salas-Humara’s iPod seems stuck on 1994. The bright, toe-tapping “Tell Me You Love Me” would be at home on a Lemonheads album. “Keeping Score” churns and soars like early Smashing Pumpkins. “People Are Right” like a lost track from Phish’s “Rift,” and there are even splashes of Soundgarden in the chorused riffing of “Top of the World.” The new touches might be the influence of Jonathan Spottiswoode and Steve Wynn, who co-wrote a few tracks.

But Fast Lane is pure Silos. Whether the starting point is cowpunk, art rock, or grunge, the Silos play with the stripped-down attitude of a garage band. When Salas-Humara sings “Come on over to our side or get out of our way,” it’s convincing. And not too many bands could pull off a love song called “Kickass” without sounding campy or pandering. For the Silos, it’s just naturally cool.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Peter Kuper Stops Forgetting to Remember


Peter Kuper is already respected as an artist for work like his graphic novelization of Kafka’s “Metamorphosis,” his wordless mediation on conflict Sticks and Stones, his underground political zine with friend Seth Tobocman, Bomb Shelter, and his Spy v. Spy in Mad Magazine. With today’s release of Stop Forgetting to Remember: The Autobiography of Walter Kurtz, he becomes his own subject, joining the ranks of R. Crumb and Harvey Pekar. Through his alter-ego, Walter Kurtz, Kuper explores his life from his awkward childhood development, his artistic inspiration and bad relationships, right up through his own daughter’s adolescence.

As Kurtz tells one clueless potential publisher, he is making the point that, “As we age, we forget or distance outselves from our past behavior… Especially after we have kids.” It’s a poignant, funny, and self-deprecating work of note. I was able to catch up with Kuper by e-mail this week to talk about Stop Forgetting to Remember and his past and future work.

What’s your sense of the origin of graphic novels as autobiography?

Robert Crumb certainly showed the way for the tell-all autobio work. No turn left unstoned. He showed things I hadn’t realized cartoon characters were allowed to do, and I thank him for it. Harvey Kurtzman’s Mad had shown Crumb the door and he and his generation walk right through.

When you first got into cartooning, did you see the possibilities of the format, or did you just want to make comics?

Since the age of about eleven I have been absurdly enthusiastic about comics. My friend Seth Tobocman and I did our first zine back then beating the drum for comics. I had started to see underground comics at that point so I was aware that there was even more to the form than superhero adventures and Richie Rich. Both of which I read and loved, by the way. All and all I loved the medium and felt it was the best and most expansive art form around. Still do.

Who are your main influences?

It is such a long list I’m sure to miss some important names, but here’s the tip of the iceberg: Charlie Chaplin, R. Crumb, Jack Kirby. George Grosz, Alfred Hitchcock, Lynd Ward, John Steinbeck, Kurt Vonnegut, Dr Seuss, Will Eisner, Walt Disney, James Thurber, Ralph Steadman, Saul Steinberg and on and on.

Do you approach Spy vs. Spy differently than, say, a graphic adaptation of Kafka? Do you have a different mindset for the work for hire versus the more personal work?

Well, it isn’t so much the work for hire part as the subject matter and who it’s aimed for. When I do Spy, I try to remember my 12-year-old self and get in touch with my inner child/terrorist. I think about Kennedy and Kruschev, Simp and Gimp and Itchy and Scratchy. With Kafka it’s a trip to German expressionist Czech woodcutting territory. Kafka’s words are so rich they suggest lots of wild visuals and unconventional ways to tell the story. Doing Kafka is like going into a trance, while with Spy, I’m dodging bullets.

Was it a challenge to create the storyline for Sticks and Stones without dialogue? Why did you approach it that way?

I have always found wordless comics to be an appealing approach to telling a story. Without words, the pictures become language uncluttered with word balloons and defy expectations of what a comic can look like... The more I work without words, the easier it is to do. At this point I’ve done so many comics like Eye Of The Beholder (a weekly strip I did for a decade), The System, stories that appeared in Speechless and over a decade of Spy Vs Spy, I’ve become pretty fluent in that language

Do you still produce Bomb Shelter?

Bomb Shelter is the stand in name for World War 3 Illustrated, which Seth and I founded in art school in 1979. We are working on the 27th issue at this very moment.

Do you have plans to keep producing Richie Bush cartoons?

I don’t, but perhaps I’ll do a departing story for old time sake to bookend the other stories. The animation I did remains on the web at richiebush.com

In your more political work, is it hard to resist the easy jokes? It seems like the “Bush is dumb” jokes are too seductive for a lot of people to resist, and then they wind up not looking any deeper into the issues.

I don’t think it’s fair to target Bush just for his simian appearance and inability to read his lines, even as he lies us into war. I’m generally more concerned with what the people like Rove and Cheney are doing since they seem to be the active destroyers, while Bush is a silver spoon front man who looks as surprised as we are he’s president.

How similar are Peter Kuper and Walter Kurtz?

Completely different. Kurtz is a self-centered, obsessive whiner, whereas I am self-centered and obsessive, but whine less.

How constant is that battle to keep from distancing yourself from your past behavior? It seems that would be an exhausting task.

I don’t think we even notice when it happens. It’s a slow process and then one day you wake up on Father Knows Best. The struggle to stop it from happening is complicated since there are plenty of things worth forgetting. I moved to Mexico last year to stop forgetting how important travel was to my life. Moving (along my wife and daughter) was such a headache—but worth it to keep this dying part of my past behavior alive.

The kids seem to provide instant perspective during the more difficult times in the book. Do your kids ever influence your perspective in your work?

My daughter has a huge influence on my life experience which bleeds into all my work. I did a children’s book Theo and The Blue Note, last fall and have a few new ideas I may yet do that come from being around a child.

The 9/11 metaphor, where Kurtz’s daughter draws her own picture over the devastation of the towers is beautiful. Is there a true life story behind that?

In the weeks following 9/11, I was shattered like everyone else. At the end of the day I’d get home from work and take a deep breath and swallow my tension to avoid having my daughter experience that state (she was 5 at the time). I found entering her world of make believe and toys free from harsh reality to be a tremendous relief from my anxiety. I just tried to translate that feeing visually in my book.

Do you expect you’ll pick up where this novel left off at some point?

Yes, pretty much immediately. I have already mapped out much of the story. It begins in NYC and follows Kurtz to Mexico with the side stories covering many, many wild past travels. All I have to do now is finish a second year in Mexico, so I know how the story ends!

Friday, July 13, 2007

Grant-Lee Phillips: Strangelet


Grant-Lee Phillips has been making sublime rock and roll since the late eighties, when he was the guitarist for L.A.’s Shiva Burlesque. But it was his next band, Grant Lee Buffalo, that would cement Phillips as an extraordinary songwriter with an angelic voice and a penchant for treating a twelve-string acoustic like it were a bad-ass fuzzed out Tele. Their first album, Fuzzy, got the attention of indie and college stations, including Boston’s WFNX in 1992, and they would continue to make majestic, bucolic rock through the late nineties.

Since then, Phillips has established himself as a solo artist, experimenting with electronica on Mobilize, releasing an album of sweetly melodic, acoustic guitar driven tunes on Virginia Creeper, and an homage to his eighties influences on nineteeneighties. Along the way, he has scored for television and film, played the town minstrel on The Gilmore Girls, and appeared on buddy Greg Behrendt’s daytime talk show. His latest album, Stranglet, veers into fuzzed out sixties garage rock while retaining some of Virginia Creeper’s sepia-toned feel. Besides guest guitarist Peter Buck (R.E.M.)He played most of the instruments himself, working with Eric Gorfain on the string arrangements. He also just completed the Various $& Sundry tour with Glen Phillips (formerly of Toad the Wet Sprocket), the Watkins Family (Sean and Sara Watkins of Nickel Creek) and singer/fiddler Luke Bulla (Blue Merle).

Did recording nineteeneighties put you in the mood to indulge your rock side a bit more on Strangelet? There's a bit of a 60s low rock feel with anthemic lyrics.

I suppose the nineteeneighties album did in some way influence my approach to Strangelet. When you go about covering a song, it's an opportunity to deconstruct the inner workings, which can be very inspiring. I was actually working on the two albums at once but there's some bleed-over.

How did you choose to play most of the instruments on Strangelet? Is there any specific criteria using a band versus going it alone?

Very often, it has to do with timing as much as anything. In this case, I was writing at home and working through ideas in my studio. Recording has gradually become another useful tool for songwriting. If the song cried out for an overdub that I could play, the most natural thing was to play it myself. It’s really matter of remaining focused and dialing in the track as I hear it. I sometimes struggle to articulate what I’m hearing to other musicians, so again it’s often easier do it myself. When I’m aiming to record an album all in one go, I prepare the songs with the band of course and that can be a great process.

How did you work out the string arrangements with Eric Gorfain? I always wonder how that works, when you have someone like Michael Kamen working with Tom Petty, where the inspiration comes from and how that transfers to the recording.

Eric has an incredible ear and he’s very instinctual. We’ve done a few international tours together, recorded together and it’s always been very easy to work with him. He often finds that perfect little line and plucks it right out of the air. The two of us have developed a short hand when it comes to parts and arranging - that and a trust.

I sometimes create a demo of the song with various string ideas that he is encouraged to refine or refer to. Then I give him another mix minus strings for him to mock up to and we sort of carve away from there. It’s a unique partnership, most definitely.

As a solo artist, do you still have any desire for a band dynamic?

The truth is I often do work within a band dynamic when it comes to recording and performing. True at times, I’m apt to perform entirely on my own but whenever there are other musicians involved it tends to challenge and inspire you in various measures. Perhaps because I’ve always been the songwriter and singer, even in the old band, my job hasn’t changed all that much.

Was there a specific inspiration for Johnny Guitar?

It's rock and roll song in the classic sense... self destruction and a big beat. I was listening to T-Rex, Eddie Chochran and Gene Vincent at the time. There's a bit of X in there as well.

Had you played with Peter Buck before?

We've had a chance to play together here and there over the years but this was the first time that Peter and I ever recorded together. He’s always been one of my favorite guitarists. He works with textures and layers but always at the service of the song. Much of the album was completed before Peter came in but I had set aside a few choice songs in anticipation of what Peter would bring to the party. Those moments on the album are among my favorite.

How was the Various & Sundry tour? Do you think you'll ever record with that particular group of people?

The tour we just wrapped up with Glen Phillips, The Watkins Family, and Luke Bulla was thoroughly satisfying. I came back a better musician just being in a van with those guys. With any luck, we’ll take the show on the road again, in which case, yeah perhaps an album is possible.

What led you to record nineteeneighties? Was there some aspect of the nineteeneighties songs you thought was overlooked that you tried to bring to the surface?

These were the songs that meant the most to me at a time when I was first finding my feet in Los Angles. Sort like my top ten, although there were other songs I’m sure. In some ways my re-recordings are drawn from memory, rather than being a straight cover version. Those of us who came of age with this music have a deep connection to it and it says so much about our generational tastes. Most of these songs were never top ten but they have a personal relevance.

Do you ever get the urge to put the guitar away and write songs in a completely different way, like you did with Mobilize?

I’m often intrigued by music that’s made of different stuff than my own. At times, I’ll have to follow that and go exploring. Mobilize was like that. Every album is to some degree, some times it’s more pronounced. As a singer and guitarist, that’s the most natural place for me. It’s like the religion I was born into. Nevertheless, it’s meaningful explore and see what you can haul back home.

Are you still influenced by new music? Do you hear something like My Morning Jacket or even a new Willie Nelson song and think, I could go in that direction?

I do tend to follow my ears when they prick up at something new. My Morning Jacket have a great spirit about them. Big guitars, big reverb and yet it feels like those guys are discovering those things for the first. That’s the thing with music – it’s all in your ears and in your head. It has much more to do with that than any tangible components - so yeah, poking your head up out of the ground has a way of reminding you of this.

The Grant Lee Buffalo bio on the official site mentions WFNX specifically as the first station to give significant airtime to the band's first album, "Fuzzy." How important was that station in GLB's development? Has Boston been an important city for you in terms of a fanbase and touring?

Personally, I love Boston. It’s supposed to be a Virgo city. It was also the place where GLB first got a foothold and WFNX played a big part for sure. There are certain places that you’re drawn to, where you feel at home and Boston is that kind place for me.

What have you scored for television? Is that more of a working gig, or is there something about it that appeals to your artistically?

Film scoring is something I’ve always been drawn by. The power that music can conjure in terms of mood and texture appeals to me. In many ways, film music is more akin to classical music, in that it moves so freely from one emotional color to the next. Scoring What About Brian was a good opportunity to delve further into the process of composing to picture. The methodology between film and television is essentially the same. The job is always about aiding picture though and assisting the realization of the director’s vision. That’s where the work comes in and where you grow the most, artistically.

Were you sad to see the Gilmore Girls sign off? Was that a strange gig?

I took a walk through the back lot a few weeks ago. It was like walking through my old deserted high school. It is sad to say goodbye but it was fun show and we had such a nice run. It's now in syndication. I’m eager to see Amy Sherman Palladino's next show, which should be amazing.

Greg Behrendt mentioned he was thinking of making you the bandleader on his show. How close was that to happening?

Greg was indeed working to create a very different kind of daytime television show and in many ways he succeeded. Knowing how funny and fast on his feet he is, it would be somewhat criminal if he were confined to being a talk show host alone, however. Although the format did not have room for a band and therefore a bandleader, we did manage to work together on The Greg Behrendt show. The "Uncomfortable Phone Call," bits where I came on to break difficult news to a soon to be jilted lover or a soon to be ex-roommate in the form of a song, are going on my resume I promise. Crisis Counseling in Song Form.

Friday, July 6, 2007

OC-Ed -- Hometown Fireworks


The Fourth of July is a monthlong affair in Lynn, Massachusetts, where I live. The fireworks start around mid-June and, as I write this on the actual night of the Fourth, continue long past the point where anyone could possibly still enjoy the noise. The quality of the fireworks after midnight is largely inferior to the impressive pyrotechnics of eight or nine o’clock as daylight fades. Everyone in the neighborhood seems to have blown their stash, and we’re now down to single bottle rockets. A few hundred single bottle rockets.

Lynn does things a bit differently than the rest of Boston. The official town fireworks display happens on July 3, all gussied up as a joint enterprise with our more upscale neighbors in Swampscott. Everyone gathers on the beach or the sidewalk lining the beach starting at around six p.m., orders their food from Christie’s, on the Lynn side, or one of the restaurants on the Swampscott end of the beach. Just to fit in, Nahant, to the east, joins in with its own random civilian displays.

For those not familiar with the Fourth in Boston, the big tradition is to cram onto the esplanade, where hundred have slept since the night before to secure good seats, and watch the Keith Lockhart and the Boston Pops with special guests (this year it was John Mellencamp) and watch the fireworks over the bay. Which means as my wife Melissa and I were driving five minutes up the road at six p.m. on the 3rd for fireworks that started at nine p.m. that night, the first of the Esplanade crazies were arriving with their blankets and coolers in Boston.

We got our drinks and a newspaper from a neighborhood corner store, loaded up on fried foods from Christie’s, an eatery that has overlooked the Atlantic Ocean and been run by the same family since 1903. Then we staked our place in the grass along the sidewalk and waited.

The shore started to fill up. One of the first couples came with small yapping dog. It was cute in the beginning, until the man noticed out amusement and start talking to the dog in a booming voice to make sure everyone around him noticed. Melissa placed his accent as Oklahoma or north Texas. Several people gathered on a blanket behind us around a boom box. Melissa and I debated about the language, whether it was Middle Eastern or perhaps had a hint of the Caribbean islands. You wouldn’t think the two regions had much in common linguistically, but I couldn’t decipher it.

That’s when Melissa said, “There’s something very poignant about the diversity in this place.”

It occurred to me at that moment that we were in the best place in the country to celebrate America. As we got closer to the start time, we put our chairs back in the car and walked along the beach, looking up at the containing wall where hundreds of people lined up for a mile or so. There were faces of every color, people of various means and beliefs. And, unlike the Esplanade show or some of the other displays, the crowd here was from the same community. The couple we’re sure were smoking pot, the dozens of families, the groups of kids riding their bikes on the hard sand – most of them probably lived within a ten minute drive from here.

We returned home to find the fireworks hadn’t ended. The personal fireworks displays that had begun in June was reaching a crescendo while a professional show from somewhere near Saugus, to the west, lit up the end of our block. It seemed like every neighborhood was having its own celebration. Lynn does things a bit differently, but it does things together.