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text: tom topkoff
photos: joe
ryan
Just
after the release of their latest album Fight Songs,
I was privileged enough to hook up with the boys from Dallas'
Old 97's. It was the first day of their latest tour
and Rhett Miller and company are preparing for a show at La
Zona Rosa here in Austin. They encounter a couple of small
problems with Rhett's guitar amplifier, but it's not a huge
issue. They think they can work with it. As the sound check
ends, they decide that they've gotta go to the music store
to get a couple of cords and a guitar tuner. Drummer Philip
Peeples keeps raiding the Chips Ahoy cookies from the snack
table. There's talk about how good the T-shirts look, possible
video ideas, and that it takes a couple days to get the rust
worked outta you when you return to the road. Guitarist Ken
Bethea pops in and digs into the cookies, even stopping to
dip them in peanut butter. "This is great, they should put
this on the rider every time," he says before leaving for
a home-cooked meal at some local friends' house. Yep, sounds
like the rock and roll life to me. Rhett sits down to catch
his breath as Philip continues to make wise cracks at their
roadie, Noah. The rest, as you can imagine, just gets nuttier
from here as Rhett gives his philosophy, sometimes digressing
into stimulating interchanges with Philip, who sits on the
couch across the way.
TT:
Let's start with a basic question, because I know y'all are
still building a fan base. So, for the uninitiated, how would
you describe the sound of the Old 97's? I know how I would
describe it, how would you describe it?
RM:
Lately, my big line has been "American rock and roll." (Laughter-then
with a heavy metal type delivery) "American Rock and Roll!"
(More laughter)
PP:
Like Huey Lewis and the News!
RM:
Yeah. (More laughter ensues) We're not entirely dis-similar.
Just songs performed by a band--
PP:
Normal guys--
RM:
Kinda started out in a bar--we're not virtuosos. Yeah, the
obvious way is "alternative country," but I mean---I keep
coming back to these things, like if R.E.M. came out today,
would they be alternative country? Or if Tom Petty came out
today, would he be alternative country? Obviously not the
later stuff of R.E.M., but the early stuff.
PP:
Neil Young definitely would be alternative country. (At this
point they go back and forth on this topic for a bit.)
RM:
Yeah, Neil Young, but then again you could argue, that he
invented what is now considered---but anyways.
PP:
I wonder why doesn't he get credited with inventing alternative
country instead of grunge music?
RM:
I know.
PP:
I hear a bigger connection with alternative country than grunge.
RM:
Well, you hear both in different periods of his career.
PP:
That's true, that's true. Wow, okay.
RM:
And bad electronic music.
PP:
Yeah, but everybody goes through that, right?
RM:
That's how you clean your palette between stylistic changes.
(More laughter ensues)
TT:
I know you did a lot of time of the Dallas singer songwriter
circuit before getting involved with these guys. Besides the
obvious advantage of being able to hone your skills in songwriting,
what do you think the club time brings to you in the Old 97's?
RM:
That's a good question. I've always believed that you have
a certain number of super shitty gigs in you, and you have
to get them all out. So, the quicker you can get them out,
the better. And you have a certain number of really bad songs
that you have to get out. And, you know, they'll still keep
bubbling up, like toxins in the human body. But, starting
at 15, I had a lot of really bad gigs, so, knock wood. Which
I guess it's just a long way of saying experience. And I had
to go through a lot of really bad bands with band members
that I didn't gel with, or like, or respect, or have anything
in common with and finally to meet these guys, and we're all,
you know, incredibly close friends and very similar, and we
have found ways to move around each other without getting
on each others nerves too badly. It's a huge thing just to
have worked out all the kinks. It's a lot easier now to do
it. I guess that's obvious too because we're better funded
and better attended.
TT:
What, in your mind, do you need to have to create that great
song?
RM:
Aye! That's where it gets weird. Psychological problems (Philip
chuckles), a girlfriend, or a lack of a girlfriend, but either
way it needs to be sort of an extreme (pauses.) It gets said
a lot that songwriters need a crisis to bring about the song.
PP:
Or artists in general.
RM:
Or artists in general, yeah, yeah, they rely on the crisis.
And that's probably true and a lot of artists end up ruining
themselves, or their lives, or their relationships by trying
to bring that crisis on themselves. So, yeah, I don't know.
So, the crisis is the one thing you forget. The best interview
answer I ever heard to a question like that, somebody asked
Steven Malkamus from Pavement what the hardest part about
writing a song was and he goes "the third verse." (Laughter
erupts again-then emphatically) It was the best answer! It's
true, cause the first two verses just come out, and then the
third verse, you're like, "shit, I've already said everything!"
That's why people always repeat the first verse.
TT:
I guess that's why there's punk rock and the minute and a
half songs.
RM:
Exactly, only two verses.
TT:
Your lyrics are, well, as they should be, from a fairly personal
level. Is it pretty much all the stories about all the girls
and stuff, it is based in a lot of truth and just a bit of
blowing up, or is it a lot of blowing up and a little bit
of truth?
RM:
Umm, (shyly) I don't know. I consistently had girlfriends,
but I haven't slept around as much as some of the songs might
make it sound. And I haven't had a problem with whiskey, like
the songs might make it sound. There's, you know, it's hard
to say what's embellishment, but a lot of it is imagined,
just like fiction. So I don't consider the songs vastly different
from fiction, and that's the way it is, you just kinda make
it up as you go. But, if it's gonna sound real, it has to
be somewhat real. I mean, I'm a lot nerdier and more boring
than it sounds like in the songs. I guess that's the real
answer.
PP:
You're a true artist, too, you've been fooling everybody.
TT:
Well, have any of the characters in your songs come back to
give you a hard time?
RM:
Yes. That is inevitable. A lot of songs, and, you know, always,
you'll have girlfriends who are bothered by songs about ex
girlfriends, and the ex girlfriends who are bothered by songs
about them, and yeah. And they all show up at the show (chuckles.)
PP:
They're all just glad to be mentioned somewhere in there.
RM:
The thing about it is, they know where to find you! There
are ads in the paper, saying "Come see your ex boyfriend and
yell at him on such and such a night at such and such club!"
So, yeah, it happens.
TT:
In some respects, Murry's tunes seem a little more "down home,"
so to speak, from lack of a better term, and his harmonies
and additions add another dimension to y'alls sound. His background
is different from yours how?
RM:
He grew up in a small town, and I grew up in Dallas, but,
strangely, while that is true, and his song choices are more
sorta traditional American country, folk, whatever, his contribution
to the band vis avi the British Invasion stuff is much greater
than mine even.
TT:
Interesting.
RM:
Yeah, which you wouldn't expect, but he, Murry, is kind of
a musical genius. I worry more about words, and I'm lucky
enough to get melodies to go along with them, but Murry is
way more a musicologist than I am, and way more of an arranger,
and just sort of a receptacle and a fount of knowledge. He
knows a lot.
PP:
He doesn't know how to use it, but he knows a lot. (More chuckling)
RM:
Yeah. His oooh's are all Dave Davies, and his harmonies are
half Carter Family and half Beatles. So, I'm lucky. People
underestimate Murry constantly. Like Philip.
PP:
Yeah! Well, you didn't drive down here with him. But, no he
did fine. (More laughter) He's a cruise control freak. I look
down, he's barefooted (Noah, the roadie, laughs), he's speeding
up behind cars with brake lights on. I'm like, "Hey stop."
He's like, "Oops." You know cruise control.
RM:
You do it with your hands.
PP:
Yeah, he's doing it all with his fingers, it's like "Oh God,
don't look."
RM:
Anyway.
TT:
Why did you call it Fight Songs, 'cuz to me it doesn't seem
that angry?
RM:
I know, part of the reason was, we wanted to---
PP:
We were gonna call it Imaginary Friends.
RM:
That sounded kinda wimpy and it didn't give away the sort
of the subtext that is sort of angry, slash regretful, slash
just tense. There's sort of a tense, unspoken thing beneath
a lot of the songs; sort of unhappiness. So we wanted the
listener to be clued in right off the bat to look for that
'cuz it's pretty subtle, because so many of the melodies are
so upbeat.
TT:
"Murder (Or A Heart Attack)" is about a cat, I know that from
a Stubb's gig where you were premiering your new stuff.
RM:
(Enthusiastically) Yeah!
TT:
Does the cat ever come home?
RM:
Yes. (Laughter) He came home before I could write the third
verse. Which is why there is no third verse on that song (more
laughter.)
PP:
That solved that problem.
RM:
Yeah, solved that problem.
PP:
Well, what are you gonna write about? The first verse and
second verse has no meaning now 'cuz the cat came back.
RM:
From now on (sings to the melody of the song) "I'll be leaving
the back door closed" or whatever. Noah the roadie: Let the
cat back out and write a third verse! (Laughter)
PP:
That's not very nice, though. (More laughter)
RM:
Well, anyway.
TT:
I'll just wrap this up with this; do you think you're becoming
a little bit more jaded as you get older.
RM:
(Firmly) Yes. I bought sandals. I mean, look at this; I'm
wearing sandals. I'm old! I don't care anymore! I don't think
it's important to be hip, I don't think it's important to
be cool. I'll wear sandals, and I always thought sandals were
the dorkiest thing. Here I am. (Then we digress again.)
PP:
Supposedly they're comfortable.
RM:
I'm in Austin, and the hippie vibe is rubbing off on me.
PP:
At least you didn't buy the kind with the little thing between
the toe and the two straps that are four dollars, which I
like.
RM:
Flip-flops, those are good!
PP:
They're very uncomfortable, they hurt your toes. They get
up in there-ouch.
RM:
Yeah, in some ways, yes, you get more realistic as you figure
out how to work this whole crazy world.
PP:
It's what you do.
RM:
Yes, I'm jaded because we are perceived as having this incredible
success and at the same time, I'm making less money than when
I worked for the plumber. So there's that. Then again, what
am I complaining about? I haven't had a job in years, I get
to go all around the country, and it's fun, you know? I get
to play video games and sleep late and rock out for a living.
Yeah, I get a little jaded and a little crabby, as I'm sure
Noah can attest.
Noah the roadie: We all live.
RM:
We always have to catch ourselves, the band, and say "We are
lucky guys."
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