nota bene

A Michael Jackson song called "Ben"

2009-07-01T11:16:33Z

Rats, Nazis, Crispin Glover and Lingerie. I never managed to stomach the original the few times I was aware it was on the radio or whatever. But could there be a more fitting MJ tribute? And what lyrics.

"They don't see you as I do; I wish they would try to; I'm sure they'd think again if they had a friend like Ben"

Nam-Nam + Cham-Cham #1

2009-07-01T08:49:07Z

drawed by tajmall

A Musical Great - No Longer With Us

2009-06-26T06:58:59Z

You probably already heard the news. About the death of musical icon in an American hospital.

I saw the sullen faces of those around me and realised they might know too. I asked.
So you've heard? Nod.
A sad loss? Yes.
Do you think that Today will remembered forever as a sad day in Music History? Indeed.

Amazing. I had no idea Sky Saxon was even known round these parts.

"Sky Sunlight Saxon passed over to the other side 6/25/2009 at 9:10am."

2012 - party over oops out of time?

2009-06-25T09:19:59Z

Richard Stanley once made a film called Hardware that became something of a sensation in the UK in the early 90s (I think) thanks to its popularity as a VHS title to rent. It's a low-budget, sci-fi, cult classic that's probably bound for reappraisal now that it's going to be released on DVD. And here's something potentially reassuring Richard Stanley said in a recent interview (as seen here):

Do you buy into that stuff about 2012 being the end date of the Mayan Calendar and therefore the end of the world?

No. Their culture never invented the wheel, and they didn’t even come up with conjunctions like ‘and’ or ‘of’ in their language . . . they certainly never had a Cervantes or Shakespeare. I can’t see how they could create an accurate date for the end of the world.

tajmall @ 2009-06-25T16:26:00

2009-06-25T08:47:36Z

Dear LiveJournal,

I get it now. It was you that killed my Facebook wasn't it? You were jealous. You thought I abandoned you. And you reported me on some shoddy pretext didn't you?

I wonder what reason you gave. It couldn't have been because I was trying to share to share unmissable content relating to Singapore's best-selling 'ghost writer', Russell Lee (who just wrote to me). Content like this, or the vaguely upsetting / potentially Japanese fetish material of this ... and -wow- how about the stunning aesthetics of a 'True Singapore Ghost Stories' fan who made this?

And I never even got to the Russell Lee fanclub blog at http://tsgs-rl-fans.blogspot.com where "you can add Fellower at this blog to show supporting True Singapore Ghost Story Russell Lee! To be the first to get the Early News/Informations/create event for fans/disccuss Idea/ share Disccussion topics of Russell LeE Fans Club"(sic). And of course I love the photo at the top of the page. I'd write my phd on it if could. But I have to go now. And curses, now I can't save it for later on my Facebook.... and it's all your fault. Maybe.

HOPE FLAMES ETERNAL :: FLAMING LIPS INTERVIEW

2009-06-24T08:59:28Z

Here's something I did a decade ago, that recently appeared online elsewhere --- on a site where it's policy to ALWAYS spell 'Singapore' as $ingapore ... yawn. I managed to spot and amend three instances of this. Forgive me for any more that slipped through.

The Flaming Lips were always hot stuff. Ex-BigO Magazine astroboy Ben Harrison reckons he probably first read about them in the ’80s via an old photocopied issue of BigO (their pre-internet incarnation). And then, over a decade later, the Lips hit a new level of success with the release of their brilliant 1999 album, The Soft Bulletin, making them an even hotter commodity… and even harder to reach on the phone. But Ben persevered, battled the robots, and eventually got Lip-synching with the bands’ main spaceman, Wayne Coyne, when he called the Witchita line, man.

(This article was first published in BigO #168 (December 1999). The Soft Bulletin was BigO’s Album of 1999).

Wayne Coyne, a traveller of outer and inner space, is getting closer to his home ground. He’s on the road - quite literally - with his band, The Flaming Lips, as they drive towards a gig in Witchita, Kansas, before heading for their hometown of Oklahoma City. [Ed: The lineup at that time included Michael Ivins (bass) and Steven Drozd (drums). Kliph Scurlock joined the group in 2002.]

And Coyne’s doing something the un-jaded 38-year-old has done on every Lips Inc release since 1985’s self-titled debut. He’s expressing wonder. “It’s crazy,” he guffaws. “Don’t you think it’s amazing that I’m here driving down the road and talking to you in $ingapore… and that it works?!”

When he then discovers that it’s early morning on my side of the planet, and I’ve yet to have my breakfast, it’s cool to hear him re-phrasing lines from one of his biggest hits to date, Bad Days: “Who wants to wake up early if you don’t have to? Sleep late when you can!”

Coyne seems so affable it’s as if he’s about to suggest we postpone the interview till I’ve “at least had some coffee and all that,” but this idea is lost in his next animated volley of super-elongated sentences which come as rich as his band’s music, and where my chuckles are reciprocated with a louder laugh from him. When he’s told of $ingapore bands like Rocket Scientist covering The Flaming Lips, he peaks with an exclamation of “Wow! Woah! Alright!!” before the rapid-fire speech suddenly stops dead.

I fear the line’s been cut.

Hello?

“I’m here,” Coyne says eventually, breaking his uncharacteristic silence. “I’m just amazed.”

Way back when (from left): Wayne Coyne, Richard English and Mike Ivins… when they were with Pink Dust Records.

I would have first heard about The Flaming Lips when they were profiled in BigO in the ’80s. Would you have been able to envisage people in Singapore listening to your band at the time?

Without thinking about it much, I guess I always think of how universal music is because I travel all around the world and I see how everybody likes music and, to some extent, I always hope we can be accepted in an universal way. But actually… no. The probability of people in $ingapore hearing thoughts that were in my head did seem like a long shot. I can’t even picture what Singapore must be like. And it does seem surreal to think that there’s people down in $ingapore, not just listening to our music, but doing cover versions of our songs.

What got you into music when you were growing up?

I have three older brothers who were listening to music all the time and I was exposed to it all… so, it was probably through that. It’s a great way to get exposed to music. They seemed to have good taste. It never occurred to me that the music they were listening to was good or bad, but through their record collections I heard all kinds of great music that otherwise an eight-year-old would never hear on his own. And the culmination of the trends of the time, the music, drugs and all that - I think it’s hard not to be attracted to that.

So what sparked you off and made you want to play your own music?

I simply started doing it because I liked it. I really didn’t have any skill at all. I think I didn’t realise how much skill and talent people really have in music. I figured you must need to have some sort of skill and some sort of desire to do it, but I just started to make records and stuff simply because I just always liked music. It wasn’t really till much later on - probably as much as 10 years after we started to make records - that I realised just how hard it is and how much skill, talent, drive and all that, it really took.

You suggest this in your sleevenote for the compilation covering The Lips’ indie years. I find what you wrote ridiculously self-effacing. I know people, myself included, who were blown away by a lot of that stuff. Just as an example, Telepathic Surgery was - and still is - unlike anything around.

I hope I don’t paint it so we look like idiots, but I realise that at the time, what we thought we were doing and what we really were doing were worlds apart. But what we always did have, and still do have, is a bunch of energy and enthusiasm for exploring - if not new ideas - at least, our own ideas. I think the compilation’s title - A Collection Of Songs Representing An Enthusiasm For Recording By Amateurs… The Accidental Career - says that.

Amateurs don’t have the same pressures to conform that “professionals” might have. As a result they’re more open to having fun…

And you can probably tell this by talkin’ to me. Sometimes it feels like if you have enough desire to do something, you’ll end up doing it. I think because we were so talentless and so skill-less, in some ways it comes across as being very original because we don’t sound like anybody else as most other bands can play better than we could.

I still think you’re being modest. I guess there was a lot of hardcore going on when you first started out. Did you feel as if you had any peers at the time?

Oh totally… Everybody. The Minutemen stayed at my house. We were fans of all styles of music. We could be fans of the Minutemen, Black Flag and the Meat Puppets at the same time as being fans of The Beatles, Echo And The Bunnymen. We never had any boundaries of what we liked.

Echo And The Bunnymen? I was wondering if your song, Bagful Of Thoughts (recorded in 1984), was intentionally Bunnymen-esque?

I think the band we thought we were sounding like was The Chameleons to tell you the truth.

Like thinking of The Flaming Lips being heard in Singapore in the ’80s, it’s strange to picture how such a relatively obscure British band like the Chameleons could have reached you in the American mid-west.

The first record has five amazing songs on it, but if you don’t get the right record you’ll be sorely disappointed… But that’s what we would do: We’d hear these bands and go “Oh, we want to make a song like that.” And since we had no abilities whatsoever…

But you can’t really be embarrassed by those early records? You actually called your album, Oh My Gawd…, “unpleasant.”

I think it’s just mixed very badly. It has no low end. I have to turn the low end up as far as it will go on every stereo I played it on. That’s mostly what I mean by unpleasant - not unpleasant as a creation, but unpleasant aesthetically as the sound coming out of the speakers is in the wrong phase sometimes. I don’t really feel embarrassed by them. Actually, I feel I can hardly relate to them. I can hardly think of how we did the records - mostly because it (was) a long time ago, and mostly because they were done in such a freakish kind of environment.

We’d literally spend days and days - up all day, up all night… sleeping on the studio floor for an hour and then waking up for the next day. They’d be these blurs of us trying to cram all these ideas into these sessions that we called “albums” at the time. And when we got done, that’s what the album would be; we really had no luxury of remixing or rethinking it or anything. I am quite proud of them really. I don’t know if I’m proud of them for what we intended to do. I see them as unique, but sometimes what we intended to do and what we ended up doing was completely different.

Were you making the music mostly for yourselves or did you consider an audience when you were making it?

At the time we’d hoped to gain an audience, but I really think the only way that people can really pursue music without having a bunch of rewards is because you like it. What I mean by “rewards” is things like fame, money and acclaim. You have to do it because you like it if don’t get those things. And I truly do think I’d do this even if no one cared. I wouldn’t be given as much money and I wouldn’t talk to as many journalists, but I’m sure - well, I know - I would really do it anyway.

I’m in one of those lucky positions where I do what I must do; and I do what I love to do; and I do get money, and all that stuff, for it. So at the moment it’s a good spot to be in.

When were you able to quit your day jobs?

I think it was around 1992 or 1993.

Really? So that would mean you were still working when you made records like In A Priest Driven Ambulance?

Well, we were touring then so we didn’t necessarily have full-time jobs. We toured all the time but we only made just enough to make our records and to live very badly. We all lived in the same side of a duplex which would be like a living room and a bedroom that would sometimes have as many as five grown men living in evil conditions. We were in our 20s, I was 28 or something, and we would probably have preferred to have day jobs to be able to live a little better, but our schedules didn’t permit.

Then luckily, after we did In A Priest Driven Ambulance, we got signed to Warner Brothers in, what still seems to me to be, some sort of bizarre accident. They gave us an insane amount of money for the way we were living at the time. So it was around the beginning of 1990 that we began this other side of our lives with Warner Brothers.

I have worked jobs here and there since then - I think in the summer of ‘92 I spent mowing lawns - but I think it’s been about six years since I’ve had to do anything other than just be in the band because since about ‘93 we’ve sold lots of records and made a lot of money playing shows. So it’s been quite easy to just be in a band and pursue music.

Was having all of you living together in the same place fractious? Some people couldn’t deal with it.

I don’t think we had a choice. And we were really immersed in exploring new ideas. If we thought that was the way we’d live from then on, we probably would have not have done it. (But) somewhere in the deeper recesses of our rational minds we felt we could probably make some money doing it, eventually.

I think we thought of it as just a temporary phase of poverty, and we would soon be out of that. We never thought we’d be rich. We thought we’d be a little bit above poverty or something. Luckily we jumped out of something I’d consider a stifling-poverty-sort-of-life to something that’s actually pretty comfortable.

Mercury Rev’s Jonathan Donahue was your guitarist around this time…

Yeah. Me, him and Michael (Ivins - Lips’ bassist)… and even (producer) Dave Fridmann, would all play guitars on our records per se… But Jonathan definitely would be considered the fourth member of the band for Priest Driven Ambulance and Hit To Death In The Future Head.

Were The Rev already going when he left Flaming Lips?

I believe his band was going as early as 1986 or ‘87. I remember staying with them in Buffalo where Jonathan and all of them went to school at. Jonathan was a kind-of promoter that’d bring rock bands to play at his college. So if you went up there to play it was kind of obligatory that you’d stay with him at his place. That’s how we got to know him, Sean (Rev guitarist, aka “Grasshopper”) - even Dave Baker (original Rev vocalist). They were all making music even together back then.

How did you hook up with Dave Fridmann? As well as playing for Mercury Rev he must have been a particularly valuable friend to the Lips - producing nearly all your records for the last decade.

He was a mutual friend of Jonathan and Sean, who had done some recording with him. I think it was the summer of 1988 that we finally thought we should get a soundman to travel with us and he volunteered his services. And we’ve been joined at the hip ever since.

Is there much interaction between Mercury Rev and Flaming Lips now?

Not really any interaction, but not because we don’t like each other. I’ve seen Jonathan quite a bit this year because we played a bunch of shows with them and hung out quite a bit. I think that even when we were working together within the Flaming Lips framework, I knew he had his own ideas of what he wanted to do and I had mine.

One of the initial reactions to your Soft Bulletin seems to be to relate it to Mercury Rev’s Deserter’s Songs. Isn’t that irritating for you?

Oh no, not at all. In some ways it’s good to have a comparison because sometimes I think we live in a nothing where there’s no other band that does anything remotely close to what we do. Sometimes that’s more frustrating than having a comparison. There are so many bands out there that I don’t think of as peers, but I love what they do.

I definitely respect and like what Jonathan does. He really pursues his own thing. I actually don’t think he listens to Flaming Lips music at all. I know for a fact that I listen to Mercury Rev stuff, but I would preface that by saying I listen to everything, so it wouldn’t surprise anyone to say I listen to Mercury Rev and I listen to other records at the same time.

To say that we influenced each other isn’t true but you can see where people would think that one record was made because of the other. I think we both actually think we’re doing something totally unique, but sometimes it ends up being something that’s quite similar.

And you share the same producer…

Yeah, working with Dave Fridmann ends up being we’re both pursuing things both through him. Discoveries I make get funnelled though Dave Fridmann… discoveries that Jonathan makes get funnelled though Dave Fridmann - so it doesn’t surprise me that there are some similarities.

Do you bother anticipating how people will regard your records? Do you guess what the reactions will be?

Not with “music people” like you yourself. Music people are interested in what we do because we do try very hard to be inventive. I worry about trying to sell records… fooling the public out there so we can keep getting enormous amounts of money.

I don’t know how comfortable you are with the idea of the “concept album,” but The Soft Bulletin could be seen as being one.

I would agree. It certainly isn’t by design. I say that because there were five or six other songs that we made but we didn’t put on there - not for any particular reason, it’s just that we weren’t happy with the mixes and we thought, “Well, we’ll finish those later on.” So we threw this batch together not thinking there was a particular concept.

But when I step back and listen to it now I hear these dramatic themes of love and death; and hopefulness; isolation; a borderline insanity idea… without it purposely being an identity we put into it. I hear it now and I think (the songs) definitely help each other out. I can see themes running through them definitely.

About the theme of love, Brian Wilson of the Beach Boys said that with his Pet Sounds album, he experimented with “sounds that made the listener feel loved.” Were you aware of that with your song, Spoonful Weighs A Ton? It could be taken as a tribute to the Beach Boys, especially with the last line, “the sound they made was love.”

Oh boy, when you say it that way it sounds better than I could do myself. The whole song sounds like an analogy about what he was going for.

You met him, right?

I did meet him. I did actually do a pretty long interview with him to tell you the truth.

Was it good for you? He has something of a reputation…

Well, I was warned that he does not do interviews very good. You can see the way me and you say something and we bounce ideas back and forth and it becomes a conversation… this doesn’t happen with Brian Wilson. I thought I asked him some good questions that I wanted to know some answers to. He couldn’t say anything.

I asked him why he never used distorted guitars because he’s such a big Beatles fan and all that. I thought, “Well hell, you know, when they started using feedback and stuff like that, why didn’t you start doing that?” And his answer was: “Oh, because it had already been done, why should I bother?” My unspoken reply to that - I didn’t say it, but I should have - was: “Well, harmony vocals have been done and people have played pianos and vibraphones for 30 years now, but you do that.”

I found it to be kind of frustrating even though I was very pleasant with him. I didn’t walk away knowing anything about him that I didn’t know before. I guess the one thing I walked away knowing was that he’s genuinely very apprehensive and shy about his own music.

He should dig the positive vibes of The Flaming Lips. The aura is so strong on The Soft Bulletin. It seems to have a sense of intent - transmitting a manifesto of a Flaming Lips psyche.

I agree. I think it’s the most clearly-realised idea that I think I’ve ever had - even if it’s by accident. I hear it now and we even superseded our expectations and intentions with some of it and the things we intended to do. I do agree that some of it is like a glowing light of optimism sometimes. I think it’s based in a kind of realism, but a realism that’s lit up with optimism.

There never seemed to be much room for cynicism in The Flaming Lips…

Well, I think we tried! One example of that is when we were recording Wonderful World - which is a beautiful, beautiful, optimistic song… we were trying… and I don’t know why - we were trying to make it a cynical, sarcastic song. And whenever people hear it, even immediately after we did it, people would just glow they’d go, “Oh, it’s such a great song. It makes me happy…” And secretly we were going, “It’s not supposed to make you happy. It’s supposed to make you pissed off… supposed to make you mad.”

So we knew even back then. Even when we’re trying to be sinister we don’t pull if off very well, no matter how hard we try. I think that when we work on something to the extent we do, we inject our personality into it and get this thing across that is more optimistic and happy. So I have more or less surrendered to that.

When I do songs I do see that in the end I always manage to twist it so that even if it is tragic, at least there is some hope in it. Sometimes it’s just plain silly and you don’t need to inject any of that; but even when they’re serious, they feel positive.

But it’s not infantile or stupidly optimistic. You don’t shy away from reality. The lyrics of The Spark That Bled (from The Soft Bulletin) actually came as a shock. There’s a very Lips-style scene building up as you describe this positive “chain reaction,” but suddenly reality bursts in when you sing: “Too bad… in reality there was no reaction.”

I think that’s kind of what happens when you get engulfed in your imagination and your imagination has built everything up around you in such a good way. It is a shock when you have to realise this is the way the world is and we’re floating in outer space, and life is short, and death is sad. I agree that when you’re thrown back into reality it is a shock - but a good shock in a way.

I think the best way you can be is to be happy in a realistic way. I run into a lot of people who want to live in an un-livable bliss where they just want be happy all the time. This isn’t good. You have to have a wide range of emotions and reactions. You don’t want to walk around saying everything is groovy… especially when everything isn’t groovy.

I think with our songs you can tell we experience all that. Sometimes we’re very happy; sometimes we’re even depressed. But hopefully it’s based on realistic things that are happening in our life - and it’s our real life that’s making us happy, or sad, or bored, or any of those things.

Maybe that’s what makes The Soft Bulletin feel mature. I’m encouraged that a sense of mortality you develop as you get older doesn’t have to mess with the morality you construct when you’re younger. Songs like The Gash don’t pretend it’s not a struggle, but somehow the album is still like a rallying call that says it’s worth fighting the good fight.

I think I’ve always had some of that morality, it’s just I’d never been able to clearly communicate it. On some of our earlier records I was trying to be poignant and serious about things like love, and even the relationship with the universe and how confusing that can be, and I simply wouldn’t say it very well. But I am curious about those sort of things.

Sometimes I’m glad when I can communicate that to people as it lets them know what I’m thinking as opposed to them thinking I’m some nut who takes drugs and doesn’t know what he’s sayin’. I try to be as clear as I can. I think I just got lucky on The Soft Bulletin. With the sounds that we used, and the words that I used, sometimes they go together and it makes such a grand, cinematic almost, statement.

How do you pull it off live? You’ve said that you’re a recording artist rather than a performer now.

Well, we take our recordings with us. We bring some of the string sections, some of the drum sections and some of the stranger, un-reproducible elements with us on a backing tape and we play on top of them.

I hate to say it, but I think some of the songs actually come across as even more powerful when you see us play. They don’t lose any of their impact, they seem to gain this thing you can communicate when an audience is right in front of you. Sometimes I think records take longer to give you the impact. I think the way we’re doing it really complements the record.

How do audiences react?

So far I am utterly amazed that they seem to love it. We have people who’ve seen us for 10 years and they come and… I’ve actually seen grown men in the audience crying.

Well, it’s beautiful music.

But you don’t expect that at rock concerts. Especially with people who’ve seen thousands of concerts.

Ah, you’re being modest again…

Well, I expect them to be cynical and not react to these things… But I’ve seen it happen. So I’m encouraged that music really can touch people if it’s presented in the right way. I’ve seen it happen.

Note: Blast From The Past Message From Wayne Coyne (1999): Wayne Coyne would like to say thanks to all the people who say they like The Flaming Lips: “I’m glad if it’s moving them in any way at all.”

2009 UPDATE: Ben and Wayne later met in Paris where Ben gave Wayne the good news that Soft Bulletin was BigO’s album of the year and Wayne gave Ben passes for the Lips’ sold-out show with Pavement, also featuring Radar Brothers and an up-and-coming British act called Muse. The Flaming Lips went on to even more acclaim and success, winning Grammy’s and finally releasing Wayne’s long-awaited - and literally home-made - movie, Christmas on Mars, in 2008. Ben Harrison continues to keep it real, off-the-cuff and straight-from-the-heart with the psychopop and bop band called Etc. Visit their myspace page here (free downloads galore).

VELVET GOLDMINE: MOE TUCKER IN HER OWN WORDS

2009-05-29T10:17:12Z

Moe Tucker's drumming might have saved my life. There were definitely times where it made life seem so much better - as if her simple but steady beats were an answer to some vast cosmic question. And then there was that time that Moe actually answered my questions directly and it got published in BigO magazine (#150 - June 1998; and more recently online as told here). I wouldn't normally be interested in a straight Q&A, but for Moe - a member of the legendary Velvet Underground - I managed to make an exception. The secretive way the magazine handled things meant I didn't get to edit it myself, compose my own headers and preamble, or manage to insert my revolutionary theory that Moe Tucker's drumming is an enormous influence on modern electric guitar playing as we know it. But now I've said it here, you can think about it for yourself. And then you might have an inkling as to why I've been known to answer the question Who is your favourite guitarist? thus: Moe Tucker, the drummer.

Ben Harrison: I was lucky enough to see your band with Sterling Morrison play in England in 1991 or ‘92. The show had a wonderful, intimate and celebratory feeling to it, firstly with how the band was interacting and then with the audience. Do you still go on the road and play such gigs?

Moe Tucker: First let me say that I like your feelings about the show you had seen. And yes, I still tour although I haven’t toured a lot in the past year or two. I’ve done a couple of tours with a group called Magnet. I play drums with them.

Do you have any preference - drumming or playing guitar and singing?

I prefer to play guitar! It’s fun playing with Magnet because I haven’t played drums in a band for such a long time, but I wouldn’t want to be a permanent drummer.

You played guitar before you joined the Velvets. How proficient were you at it?

I could only play a few chords.

How do you write? Is it a drawn-out process or is it spontaneous? What tends to come first - music or lyrics?

Actually all the songs I’ve written have been written in one sitting each. With some word or phrase changes here or there, of course. I’ve had songs where the music was first and songs where the lyrics were first.

Do you still have to have a day job?

No, thank god.

Are any of your children interested in music?

My 17-year-old son (the “baby”) plays guitar. He started about two years ago and has gotten quite good!

You’ll probably downplay it (and little is made of it in any material about the Velvets I’ve come across), but your position as a drummer strikes me as being very unusual for its time, regardless of the type of music the band was playing and the type of songs that were being written. In the first place there was your style of drumming. How did you come to drum like that and use that kind of set-up?

I always hated cymbals and wanted to stay away from using a cymbal for every accent. I also love African drumming and was trying to get a sort of African sound (deeper sounds).

Although it might not have been conscious, do you think of your drumming as being as “far-out” as the other elements of the Velvets music? It could be made out that your drumming was as much of a “statement” as what the rest of the band was doing in their playing, lyrics and approach?

I didn’t at the time, but now I do. And yes, I guess I was making my own little statement!!

The other thing I assume must have been unusual at the time was the fact that you’re a woman playing music. Was much made about this at the time?

Nothing was made of it at the time!! It’s only now that it’s made out to be so unusual. But then again, we weren’t exactly the centre of attention in those days.

What would you have done musically if you hadn’t been asked to play in the Velvets?

I’m sure I would not have done anything with music. I would’ve stuck to my job.

Do you think that other groups might have had difficulty accepting you as a drummer (or even just a musician, regardless) just by virtue of your sex?

No, not really. I think musicians, writers and artists are generally free of prejudices. I think that what’s most important to those people is what you offer rather than what you are: male, female, black, white, Christian, Muslim.

Would you think that much has changed for female musicians in this day and age?

Only that there seem to be more of them!

I’m struck by your patience when it came to many of the experiences you had in the Velvets. The characters you worked with and encountered would try anyone's patience. Druggy. Egotistical. Conceited. Have you found any similarities in this - especially in working with (strong-willed) male musicians and artists - when it came to bringing up children?

I never thought about that!

Doug Yule stated that his biggest regret was that the Loaded album was recorded without you. The reason it was recorded without you was because you were pregnant at the time and it sounded like the manager wanted the rest to go ahead rather than waited for you. Does it irk you that the rest didn’t draw the line and wait for you?

It doesn’t “irk” me, it disappoints me because there are songs on that album that needed ME!

Do you like the songs on that album? And what about its overall sound/production?

I love a lot of those songs! I never listen to the album because - and this sounds awfully egotistical - they just don’t sound right with a regular drummer!

The period after Lou Reed left the Velvets is a gray area in terms of what we know about how the group continued, yet you and Sterling and Doug Yule continued. Were you playing gigs? How do you remember that period?

Yes, we kept playing shows. When I think back on it I think Sterl and I just would rather play music than get a job and that’s why we stuck to it. The band was good, but it wasn’t anything special - just something to do instead of “growing up”!

The Velvets were ahead of their time, or times were behind the Velvets. Was there a point, years later, where you felt as if people or music had caught up?

I don’t think they’ve caught up YET!

It goes without saying that the Velvets inspired countless bands, but are there any that you feel have really captured and expanded what the Velvets were doing originally? If there was a spirit of the Velvets, which band is best keeping it alive, even if they’re unaware of it?

I really can’t think of any band that is anything like the Velvets.

In Singapore in the early ’80s, Zircon Lounge recorded and performed Velvets songs; in the early ’90s the Padres (who’ve since become one of Singapore’s big names) started out by playing Velvets numbers, and I’ve heard Livonia (who’re currently #1 on the charts here) play There She Goes Again too. Obviously you’re aware of The Velvets’ influence being international - but when did it first strike you this was the case?

Around 1981 when I was working on Playin’ Possum. I had decided I should start looking at some music magazines (Musician, Creem, etc.) just to see what was going on. I hadn’t listened to the radio in 10 years, and never bought records - except old ones. I noticed that in every magazine I picked up the Velvets were mentioned at least four times! This was a HUGE surprise to me. Up till then I had no idea that anyone gave a damn.

Do you think that people perceive the Velvets as being a group? When I listen to them it’s always yours and Sterling’s contributions that strike me these days, yet some people might have the misconception it was Lou Reed’s band.

I think Sterling and I have been much more “recognised” in the past 10 years or so. I think one reason for that is that John and Lou both continued doing music and were therefore in the public eye. And, two, most people don’t pay much attention to the drums or rhythm guitar!

Are you kept up to date on how the Velvet’s legacy continues to endure, like do you get to hear, or are you interested in hearing, the numerous Velvets cover versions out there? What kind of emotional response do you have to hearing these songs you were involved with… or is it something you can get used to?

I’ve heard a very small portion of the VU covers there are. I’d love to hear more! I’m always flattered, no matter how bad or good I think the rendition is.

Any fave readings of Velvets material by other people?

Sunday Morning by The Changelings and Pale Blue Eyes by Half Japanese.

Why do you choose to re-record certain Velvets songs? Is it for the pleasure of simply playing them, or is it to make it closer to the way you feel it should be played?

I choose all covers with two things in mind - a) I always cover songs that I really, really like and b) I cover only those that I think I MIGHT be able to sing half way decently!

In this regard, any comments on why I’m Sticking With You and After Hours are recorded and released as a single? Why these particular songs and any changes made to them?

I re-did After Hours and Sticking because they are HUGE favourites at live shows and I thought it would be fun to have another version of them.

There’s a trendy club called Velvet Underground here in Singapore, and another in London, though nothing about the places seem to reflect their namesake, your former band. Is it irritating that people go to these places with no idea of who the Velvet Underground are?

No, it’s irritating that they get away with using the name!

Does it strike you that these VU clubs might be like some kind of Warholian thing where something has been appropriated, in this case the name of your band, and become something else in the process?

Most likely!

Did you absorb much of the art aspect of the Warhol scene - or was it something that was going on while you played music?

I always wished I could be in the audience just once while we were playing and the whole show was going on so that I could see/hear it as a whole. It must’ve been incredible! Especially in those days!!

The updated UpTight book ends with something about how the Velvets had yet to be inducted in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Do you think that that kind of recognition was important to Sterling who often mentions in the book the “crusade” aspect of the music?

It was very important to Sterling - not because of a crusade, but because Sterl wanted to be recognised and would have seen it as an accomplishment and as a way to ensure that his/our name will be there forever. Of the four of us, Sterl would have been the most thrilled by the induction and it infuriates me that those assholes waited so long!!!

I am particularly intrigued by the Grl-Grup EP. Why do a Phil Spector cover? And how did you (and the band) decide on which song to cover?

WHY DO A PHIL SPECTOR COVER????? Those songs are just so damn wonderful!! I defy anyone to listen to Da Doo Ron Ron without wanting to dance!!! They are SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!!!!! I decided which songs to sing by what I said earlier (although I must admit I was very nervous that I would just totally blow the vocals).

I really enjoyed your vocals on this CD and am wondering why you didn’t do more vocals in the Velvets. Is it because whoever wrote the song got to sing?

I never wanted to sing when I was with the VU. I was MUCH TOO nervous about singing to try that!!!

You might like to provide some background on the Changelings on your website - like how did you hook up with them and what it is that makes you want to record with them?

Good idea! I’ll tell you the story - a mutual friend sent me a CD of theirs on which they did Sunday Morning. I absolutely loved the whole CD and wrote to tell them that. They wrote back, etc. etc. When I was ready to record I thought they’d be great to have in the studio - keyboards, violin, Regeana’s wonderful voice. And I was real happy to find that they are very, very nice people. They were great in the studio!

Is Lakeshore Drive Records owned and run by you? If so, when was it started and what made you decide on such a venture?

Yes, Lakeshore Drive is mine. It’s not officially a company, but we needed a label name fast so we just used that. I’ve had my own label before - Trash Records - on which I put out Playin’ Possum and a single. I had no desire whatsoever to look for a “real” label for these two new CD’s. I’m sick to death of thieving labels!

Lastly, your forthcoming children’s songs project - how did that come about?

Clay Harper - who co-wrote the children’s thing- owns Casino Music, which owns the studio I record in. I had worked in the studio producing an album and Clay asked me if I’d sing a song or two on the kid’s album. Phew!

Moe Tucker - my favourite guitarist / my only email interview

2009-05-29T04:55:40Z

Although they've failed to acknowledge my existence for several years, someone has no qualms about posting my unpaid work for them online (naturally they didn't tell me about it). That's OK, I am sure they have no problem with me reposting my work wherever I like.

Yesterday I discovered that someone saw fit to put my Moe Tucker 'interview' online at the site of what used to be Singapore music magazine, BigO. Weirdly, some instinct told me to check this site I'd forgotten about, and there it was - eleven years late.

It seems pretty rich to me that it's there since the spineless goon(s) who put it up have failed to acknowledge my existence for several years. They also refuse to acknowledge that any rock and roll music is made in Singapore these days, but they do publicise Celine Dion in Genting and Air Supply shows alongside their self-righteous, skitzy rants which suggest Political Correctness and Punky Purism which strike me as being at odds with how they purged all their writers and never explained why. I was under the impression we were all friends. It's not like I ever got paid for the many many many stories that I did for them. But the way I was treated I now feel like I was nothing but an unpaid employee.

So, here's something credited to me. I can remember if it was the only email interview I was prepared to do or I actually thought I was suggesting questions for someone else to use for a phone interview w/ Moe. I'm not interested in the email Q&A. I thought an interview should be like a conversation.

My revolutionary insight/theory on Moe Tucker's drumming being a huge influence on modern electric guitar playing isn't included. I don't know where I or they might have put it. It was a theory that might have put me in the running for a job as a stand-in guitarist for Elastica once. But I wasn't interested. Messy times. And I bet the parties involved don't remember it (Graham Coxon might). But I do remember that had I taken the job I'd claim it was because of how I replied when asked:

'Who's your favourite guitarist?'
'Moe Tucker.'

VELVET GOLDMINE: MOE TUCKER IN HER OWN WORDS
This interview was published in BigO #150 (June 1998).

Moe Tucker, drummer with the legendary Velvet Underground, has her own small label - one of her releases is Grl-Grup, a cover of Phil Spector songs; another release is a cover of the Velvets’ I’m Sticking With You and After Hours. Here, she takes time off to answer a list of questions submitted by Ben Harrison regarding life with and after the Velvets.

I was lucky enough to see your band with Sterling Morrison play in England in 1991 or ‘92. The show had a wonderful, intimate and celebratory feeling to it, firstly with how the band was interacting and then with the audience. Do you still go on the road and play such gigs?

First let me say that I like your feelings about the show you had seen. And yes, I still tour although I haven’t toured a lot in the past year or two. I’ve done a couple of tours with a group called Magnet. I play drums with them.