Scenestar

ARTICLE + PHOTOS BY CHRIS MOLINA

As I stood inside UCSD’s RIMAC Arena and observed the bleachers and modest stage rig, I had contextually triggered flashbacks to high school dances. But more specifically, the type of dances that followed a football game or were casual mixers. In any case, it was a haunting duality to ponder while snapping photos of both School of Seven Bells and Interpol. During Interpol’s performance of “C’mere,” I was led directly to School of Seven Bells, who stood shoulder to shoulder, transfixed on Interpol. It was a nice candid moment to catch, and you’d think it was their first time seeing Interpol perform. Alley snapped out of her gaze first and signaled Benjamin for the interview. I offered to wait until the song was over, but they were ready to roll. That high school flashback feeling resurfaces as we stroll through the arena tunnels—this is a departure from traversing the backstages of grimy clubs. We’re now in the locker room and Benjamin is still in key with the muffled sounds of Interpol as he exclaims, “I love that riff!” There is an ease and casualness about Alley and Benjamin’s disposition. Interviews can be a lot like pulling teeth at times, but the band descends into conversation without the slightest bit of hesitation.

Benjamin Curtis: It has become cliche when people get off labeling and comparing bands to each other. With Interpol, it’s Joy Division. There are actually a lot of bands that rip off Interpol.
SS: Really? Like who?
BC: Heh. We can’t say.
Alley Deheza: It’s pretty obvious. Let’s put it that way. Actually, from both talking to Paul [Banks] and overhearing hearing music-influenced discussions, he has really never brought up Joy Division.

SS: I actually remember Paul being asked about the Joy Division comparison in an interview around 2003, to which he kind of gave a passive reply. But I don’t necessarily think it’s a bad thing if a band is compared to Joy Division.
BC: Of course, [Joy Division is] a great band, but it becomes cultural currency to compare you to someone. To an extent, that happens to us too. People like to say, “They sound like Cocteau Twins or My Bloody Valentine.” And we actually don’t think we sound like any of those bands, but that’s just the way print media has labeled us.
AD: This has become the era of tags. People have to fucking tag everything and a lot of that is because of the Internet.

SS: Well, I have to say I’m pretty guilty of that myself. The reason why I compare is to give some sort of frame of reference in hopes that it could convince a person to check out a band, especially if the band is really unclassifiable.
BC: We were actually talking about this the other day. It has become too important to use adjectives for a band—“They are moody or dark.” It almost becomes a genre or a shelf at the record store, and all of a sudden, it becomes way too important. And that’s just a word to describe it.

SS: I think the sheer accessibility to music has put a lot of enthusiasts in self- proclaimed authoritative roles. I remember back in the ’90s, having your top five staple bands and that was it. But now there are so many subsets of genres that are spawning so fast that it often feels like you’re navigating through an asteroid field just to keep up.
BC: I feel over-specialization is dangerous, and the same thing happens in art when boundaries are blurred. If you are a producer and you are only listening to one specific thing, that files into a blind derivation of itself. It’s important to step out of those boxes in order to push things forward and… I don’t know, fuck it. I just said a bunch of shit, but fuck it.
AD: Ha ha ha.

SS: Rants are not only good for self-expression, but more importantly are good for decompression. That actually leads me to this question: From the Time Alpinisms release until now, your touring schedule is pretty relentless. I feel mentally exhausted just looking at it. What mechanisms do you have in place for not completely losing your shit?
AD: You’ll definitely lose your shit a few times, before you learn how to deal with it.
BC: I’ve actually met a lot of people who lose their shit, and that’s because they have no perspective on it. But I am able to step back and say, “You know what? Life is really short, and I love playing music everyday and having the opportunity to make a living doing that.” There is no danger of us losing our shit because we know this is what we want to do. But then you have the people who just take it for granted. They constantly hate where they are or constantly hate when they are on tour. When they’re home, they want be on tour. When they are on tour, they want to be home. If they’re making a record, they hate the music they are making.

SS: So your sense of identity is more or less what helps with keeping it real?
BC: That could possibly be a word for it.
AD: It’s knowing where you stand, man! Half the battle is rejecting your natural impulses. It’s basically people’s need to create a conflict when there isn’t one.

SS: Ha! Good point! Psychologically some people will find problems to solve. I’ve actually noticed that same behavior in very neurotic personalities, which often are the same people who are self-destructive. It’s definitely a void they need to fill. If there is no conflict of interest, life somehow ceases to have any real meaning.
BC: If we’re talking about the concept of hedonism, it doesn’t include self-destruction. So if you become hedonist and remove self-destruction from the equation, it becomes really interesting. I’m not saying we’re hedonists, but we are doing what we love, and because of that, we don’t want to self-destruct.

SS: Through your travels, do any of the landscapes find their way into songs or any part of the creative process for that matter?
AD: I feel the desert is very inspiring.
BC: It’s funny. I’d say three-quarters of the musical ideas were inspired by a particular tour in Europe last winter, crisscrossing the mountains, the stillness of the terrain reflecting sunlight. All the basic ideas of the songs were labeled as we were driving from or where we were driving to. For example, Venice to Munich was our song “Joviann,” and pretty much all the songs off of Disconnect From Desire were like that.
AD: But by no means do we want to force these sights on people’s interpretations of our songs. It’s up to them to say whatever it is.

SS: How does it feel coming full-circle on this tour with Interpol? What perspective can you guys look back upon?
BC: It’s like picking up right where we left off. Though it seems where we left off is where no one really wants to pick up from. That tour was one of the wildest, continuous, nonstop, parties…
AD: EVER!
BC: We are not really the same people then.

 

SS: I get the impression that feels like a lifetime ago. Were you guys like 16 years old then?
BC: [Laughs]
AD: [Laughs] Right, right. I have to say that the way it has come full-circle is from when the first seeds of School of Seven Bells was talked about. I was talking to Benjamin about starting this band, and he said, “Well, you know, I’ll do it when ever you get your shit together.” So the band has always been about Benjamin and I.

SS: I’m curious about how the “ILU” video materialized. Were you immediately approached with a treatment?
BC: The treatment is heartbreaking. A relationship devouring you, and you’re hoping it all works out well in the end. So we wanted a lot of sex and puppets.

SS: Was there some sort of retaliation to a specific puppet by a displeased party?
BC: It was MTV. They sent us a bullet-point memo of items that needed to be edited in order to show the video. Bullet point number one: Puppet breast touch.
AD: [Laughs]

SS: That should be the name of a song.
BC: It should be! And what’s so funny is that you can watch Snookie get punched in the face with her fucking tits hanging out, but you can’t see a papier- mâché tit getting touched by a papier-mâché hand. So in the end, we edited the hell out of that video.

SS: Alley, you like to dive into books or PBS documentaries from time to time. I’m curious what’s on your plate at the moment?
AD: Oh wow. Good question. Hmmm…
SS: Supermarket tabloids? The menu at Denny’s?
AD: Honestly, we’ve been pretty much just making music the entire time. Everything that I’ve been doing is mostly just absorbing the surroundings and where the fuck I’m at today, tomorrow, or wherever, because it’s always changing. So I’m basically trying to write from those perspectives and stimulus. Touring can be really repetitive, which tends to be a common complaint—myself included—but you also feed off different people’s energy wherever you are, even from the people who happen to live in that city.

SS: This goes back to the earlier question about landscapes having an effect on your creative process. It appears that just keeping with the day-to-day routine is enough to keep your plate full.
BC: We definitely see weird people.

SS: Any specific examples? Truck stops perhaps?
BC: You don’t need to go to a truck stop, just look out into the crowd. People are awesome, but everyone is on their own trip, and I respect that and find it fascinating. People kind of have their own ideas of how things are, which are different from mine.

SS: Going back to perspective, you’re actually wondering how it’s like to be in someone else’s shoes, how they see the band in other words.
BC: Yes. It’s how they see us—three people who walk on stage to play music, and I’m always surprised what they think.

SS: Benjamin, you had mentioned David Archuletta being a guilty pleasure on a KCRW interview.
BC: That was on one specific tour, and we listened to the hell out of that David Archuletta album.
AD: [Laughs] I love that “Crush” song. So good.
BC: As much as I love Stockhausen or anything sonic, my earliest memories of music were from roller-skating. We actually like to classify stuff as, “Oh, this is roller-rink music.”

SS: What is the equivalent of what you’re listening to at the moment?
AD: Robyn. “Dancing On My Own” is amazing.
BC: I like simple songs that are about mundane situations. You go to a club, and you are either loved by someone or you’re not. That is talent. I can’t do that shit. My body naturally rejects it and knows it’s garbage, but then when I hear it, I’m so impressed. Like that horrible Black Eyed Peas song “I’ve Got a Feeling.”

SS: Oh shit! You have no idea how much we frustratingly feed off that noise.
BC: It’s not even a song. It’s just a hit. They only write hits, not songs.

SS: This reminds me of the good old KLF Manual. They’ve basically mastered the marketing ploy formula down to a science.
BC: It’s cool. The KLF do all that crazy shit, but it’s cocky to say how easy it is to sellout.

SS: I’m not sure if it’s this particular production rig, but you guys sounded very well-balanced. In fact, I could actually hear the delineation in Alley’s vocals. This is definitely noticeable from when the band plays smaller venues.
BC: Some bands work better in smaller rooms. For better or worse, we sound better in big rooms where the sound is actually able to travel. But I do enjoy the energy of a tight room. Overall the best shows we do are the outside festivals.

SS: Which festival would you say was your best performance?
BC: Austin City Limits two years ago was beautiful.
AD: We’ve also done All Tomorrow’s Parties three times, and they were all great shows.

SS: Can either of you explain the context behind the iconography with Disconnect From Desire?
AD: The symbol on the cover is based on the concept of a sigil, which is a statement that has been reduced. This can be done a million different ways, like taking consonants, letters, or vowels out and then using the letters you have left to create a symbol that is unique to what you have been envisioning—your personal iconography or statement.
BC: Every idea we had was an external or representational image, adding information to make it complete. Eight months ago that symbol meant absolutely nothing, but now it means something and that is the great thing about communication. We make things, and they suddenly mean something. Or what was nonsense beforehand can totally have meaning the next. Now that symbol means every song off Disconnect From Desire.

SS: So this one symbol channels all these different components. Did the title of the album also evolve from these thoughts?
AD: Disconnect From Desire was drawn from a deck of cards created by Brian Eno and Peter Schmidt…
SS: Oh, Oblique Strategies!
AD: Yes, for coming up with strategies in the studio. It was the first time I ever drew that card and it really resonated with everything happening at the time—the theme of the lyrics and what was happening in our lives. Not imposing your feelings on certain situations, you shouldn’t force your desires or ambitions on these other situations. Otherwise you become blind and are not productively able to interact.

We wrap up the session with a few band and portrait photos. Benjamin politely excuses himself as he races back to the arena floor to catch the last part of Interpol’s set. Alley and I briefly exchange stories about growing up with Latino parents and their preferences in foul language expressions. I begin to wonder as I’m driving home, in this fast-paced culture, especially in creative collaborative situations, if in fact disconnecting from desire is the optimal route towards open-ended options. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

 

For more photos of the San Diego, RIMAC Arena show see The Scenestar's Interpol With School Of Seven Bells Photo Gallery.