 09/06/2008 The Proud Gallery, Camden, is an unusual setting to be interviewing the saviour of the Memphis punk-rock scene, Jay Reatard. One of the more stylish venues in Camden, the crowd verge on semi-alternative and smart casual, giving an impression that they’re either pretentious creatives or attach themselves to a “hip-crowd” like leeches on a day-trip to Baker Beach. One certainly feels out of place with unkempt hair, armpits rising damp and a gut full to the brim with a days steady drinking. No doubt Jay Reatard feels a similar sense of bewilderment; the venue’s hardly jam-packed full of punters and those that are here strictly to see Jay could be counted on one finger. But when Reatard takes to the stage, his brown wavy mane, bassist Billy Hayes’ afroesque (sic) fuzz, and drummer Stephen Popes’ long blonde locks - teetering on the realm of surreal and sublime, even the ne’er-do-wells stand-up and take notice. The performance is a 100-mph punk-rock ride on a schizophrenic LSD wig-out; riding a beast of a chopper down the M25 in the early hours of Sunday morn. Blood Visions, a relatively unknown LP that remains one of the most original of the past year, has given Jay Reatard a lot to live up to. Not only does his performance fail to disappoint, particularly astounding given the venue, but the blend of paranoid punk-rock, 80s post-punk, and a pinch of new wave, far outreaches expectation. Having seen a clip of Jay knocking out a stage-invader with a vicious right-hook and having read countless reports of the multi-instrumentalist’s sporadic temper, I was expecting Jay to be a bit of a loose cannon; Anton Newcombe all over again… Perhaps it was the Vodka-and-Tonic I bought him or the countless beer stains down my top, but I like to think it’s because Jay’s a jolly nice chap that all preconceptions were thrown out the window with a resounding BANG!
It’s been said that you had a turbulent home-life when you were younger, and that your problems led to you turning to music and leaving school at fifteen. Would you say that you used music as a form of escapism from your problems?
I suppose; I mean, I think all art is some form of escapism. Mostly just from boredom man, you know? I didn’t really like… I stopped going to school, so, when you’re fifteen, you know, the majority of people you’re going to meet are going to be at school and there’s not really a lot of places where you can be social with fifteen year-olds outside of school. So it was purely out of boredom; I hadn’t really… I wasn’t around anyone so I kind of just created my own group of friends out of my four-track. You know, I was like: ‘Oh, okay, I can play guitar and drums’, and it was like interacting with another person, you know, just over-dubbing; and then once I realised I had a four-track and I could do the guitar and the bass, it was like… It was just an escape from boredom man, I had nothing else to do…
I think there’s a lesson to be learned there for kids of today. Turning their misdemeanours and all the hate into something far more beneficial…
Sure. I mean like, around that age, I was doing the same thing. I was doing petty crimes and going to jail for fighting and stuff; but I knew there was probably - it sounds like a close shave, but definitely something better to put all the negative energy into. And I figured that if music and punk-rock could kind of inspire me, than why not do something while you’re, you know, pissed-off, rather than sitting around like some jerk who’s angry at the world?
So would you say that punk-rock was more of an inspiration to you than the Memphis music scene you grew up with?
Well, you know, Memphis as a city has always inspired me more than the music. I mean, I’ve only ever… The last ten or fifteen years, I’ve only really enjoyed a few bands from Memphis. It’s more like the city, it just kind of… There’s this kind of ominous negativity that always exists there. It’s quite a violent place that teaches you how to hold your outlook on life. I mean, most the people there are pretty friendly, but it’s definitely more the city that’s inspired me than the music itself.
But Stephen (Pope) and Billy (Hayes) (Jay’slive Bassist and Drummer)are from The Barbaras who came out of the Memphis scene. You must have had respect for their music to bring those guys in?
Yeah, I thought they were doing cool stuff, you know, and they were young; they didn’t have anything tying them down, and it just seemed like a good situation for all of us. Like, they can help me by giving me a band to play with live, and I can help them by getting more people into their music as well. I think it’s just the perfect relationship…
Sure, that's the impression I get. So does the Memphis music scene have quite a close community?
Well, you know, it’s tiny, it’s small and it’s very accentual. It’s the same group at any given time; the same fifteen people all playing in service bands. I suppose it’s just like anywhere else where there aren’t a whole lot of people. I mean, Memphis is a pretty small town - it’s like 800,000 people… Maybe. So, it’s not so much that there’s a scene, it’s just a small group of people that try and get along well enough to collaborate together. There’s no certain movement or anything, it’s just very slow; and people are really - most people are pretty uninspired. Most people are pretty non-ambitious, they just wanna kind of sit around and play some local gigs at their local pubs and then work their jobs, you know? There aren’t a lot of people who want to work a seventy-four hour life just to get a pay-check and a place to sleep, you know?
Yeah, definitely man, I‘m the same. So how does the Memphis scene compare to other areas nearby, like Nashville for example; somewhere that produces shed loads of music?
Nashville’s like a really music industry town… It’s just like, you know… Nashville’s like Country music that’s all mass-produced, it’s a pretty soulless place, you know? It’s not very interesting. It’s fun though.
I get the impression that heart and soul in American music comes from growing-up in the smaller towns and suburbs. The Black Lips recently told me that growing up on the outskirts of Atlanta helped them create better music…
Sure, absolutely - I mean they’re from Atlanta, so that’s a pretty big fucking city; it’s like five-million people. But you know, Memphis definitely - I’ve always felt like I could create things without anyone really paying much mind and that’s always something that… I think if you try to do something with people looking over your shoulder or people anticipating what your next move is, then you become a little bit subconscious. Now I kind of get that feeling that people are watching my every move because I’m on a bigger label and - I’m never at home anyway, so I’ve gotta figure out a new process, because the old one doesn’t work anymore… (laughs)
What about the transition to solo artist, because you’ve played in a lot of bands; The Reatards and Lost  Sounds… You produce your own solo material as well. How have you found going from working in bands to putting all your energy into solo work?
It was pretty natural because in the Lost Sounds we gave it our all; everyone tried their hardest. I mean, our goal with that band wasn’t really to be a band that fully collaborated with each other; our goal in that band was to try as hard as possible and things didn’t really work out. We tried it for six years and… I like the records we made and I’m proud to have worked on them, but I guess everyone’s a little disappointed about some people in the band wanting a little bit more - a little higher success than we did. So, you know, we figured it was best to go our ways and - I was so bummed in being with a band at that point; it’s kind of like dating a girl for six years and you break-up, you probably wouldn’t wanna jump straight back into another relationship. So I was very apprehensive, and I took a year off from even playing music and… The next thing just seemed like:‘Okay, I can’t stomach the idea of being in a band right now, so I’ll start making stuff myself…’
Sure man, I like that. Good answer. But what about the music, how would you describe it? It seems to be heavily influenced by punk, but there’s also a touch of New Wave about it - especially on the final track (Waiting for Something)…
Well, you know… It’s essentially punk-rock music in spirit; but from song to song, you know, I definitely don’t try to stick to a strict hole or anything. But I would say it’s… It’s the sound of nervousness. It’s kind of like really nervous punk-rock music and you know, I was a kid who grew-up and was born in the 1980s, so of course it’s going to have a lot early 80s’ influence or something. It’s a good sound to hear. But it’s just punk-rock music as far as I’m concerned man; in my humble opinion it’s just punk-rock.
So you were heavily influenced by punk bands of the late 70s?
Yeah, I mean the solo stuff has been more inspired by, like… I never really listened to a huge deal of punk until a few years ago. I kind of just wrote it off as shit; and then recently I’ve started listening to The Adverts and bands like that. I guess the solo stuff’s been more influenced by English music, I suppose.
Does the inspiration for your lyrics stem from your sub-conscious; are your songs completely made-up; or are they autobiographical in some way - which is the impression I get from songs like My Family?
No. Every lyric I write I try to like, take an aspect of my personality and exaggerate it so that it becomes a bit more interesting, or more severe, or over-the-top. I mean, if I’m writing a song that’s about a guy stalking a girl and killing her at the end of the song, it’s nothing that I would ever do in reality but, you know, maybe it’s a passing thought that went through my brain that I really fucking want to kill that person. So I write a song about it.
Shit man, that’s some heavy shit. Good though. What about the recording process; would you say that you prefer performing - the experience and reaction of a live audience - to producing and recording your music?
I definitely prefer recording because music’s a pretty personal thing to me; it’s like, something that I like to do alone. It’s like this weird thing where I spend hours in my bedroom working on these songs alone, and then I figure out that: ‘Oh, I might have to perform them in front of a few-hundred people, or whatever, and play them.’ So, you know, I honestly prefer recording; it’s more of a creative thing. But as far as like, the charge I get from playing live, they’re two different things, you know? I…
Playing somewhere like this though; I guess it’s not ideal… (let‘s just say that the majority of the audience rank among the upper echelon of smart-casual; hardly the finest fodder for fast-paced punk-rock)
Kind of not ideal but, you know, sometimes I like being thrown to the tigers. I kind of like the complication of playing to people who are unsuspecting, you know? The kind of look on their faces, and how disgusted they are sometimes, makes me realise I’m doing exactly what I was meant to do.
There was that incident at the Silver Dollar where a guy climbed on stage mid-performance; you pulled him back and punched him in the face. Do you get pissed off with fans that try and disrupt your performances?
Well, you know, I used to - when I was a teenager; I was in bands that were kind of like… It’s so depressing for all these people to say: ‘Jay was in these crazy bands’. I mean I was a kid, so like, when I was eighteen I didn’t think I had a future; so I didn’t mind like, having my shit broken, or having something thrown in my face, or cutting myself up or whatever - because I didn’t think I was gonna be 28 anyway… If I’m gonna be hit it’s apparent I’m not writing a tight tune - probably. I just feel pretty misunderstood by some of these people; they expect me to act like I acted ten years ago or something, but people grow-up man, you know? People say: ‘You’re losing your edge’ and all this stuff; but it’s fucking growing up just like anyone else. You can’t keep doing that shit forever; and there’s nothing more depressing than a forty year-old man who likes to get on stage and, you know, throw shit at people and roll around in broken glass or something. It’s like, I don’t wanna be Iggy Pop.
Sure, definitely man. I mean, when I interviewed The Black Lips I got the impression that they’d matured somewhat; that the music is more important to them than pissing about…
Now their audience acts that way!
Yeah, exactly. So would you say that’s fairly accurate; that you’ve matured as an artist?
Yeah, I mean, you know… It’s just this thing where it’s like… Some people just come to the show and they come to Black Lips shows, and they’re like: ‘If you guys aren’t going to create violence, we’re going to create it.’ Fuck ‘em! It’s irritating, you know - it’s silly! I think, yeah, most of those bands - we were young and we did stupid shit, pissed in our mouths and all this stupid stuff - but now we’re in our twenties and we write songs.
What about moving to Matador Records… How big has the change been for you; from being signed to smaller labels and then signing for a major company?
Essentially I can afford to make any record I want now, so that’s a change. But I’m gonna do things exactly the same way; there’s no reason to change just because you get a big budget to change things… Yeah, you know - it’s good; it just allows me to relax a little bit and not have to worry that I’m gonna be like, old and broke and homeless. And, you know, I think they’ll be able to get a lot more people exposed to what I’m doing, as opposed to some of the tinier labels I was working with; which all did good jobs with what they had to work with, but… You know, Matador, as far as internationally and what not, I think they’ll help us maybe get away from just playing to Indie people and those close-minded punk-rockers they mix with. My goal has always been to play music to like, your common person.
The album, Blood Visions, has had some excellent write-ups - it’s been received really well. Are you surprised by how successful it’s been?
Sure, I mean, you know - it’s doing alright. I thought it would just be another record; it’s like the eighteenth full-length record I’ve made. So yeah, I think that if you’ve made eighteen of anything, and then the eighteenth thing that you’ve made is the only thing that people pay attention to, it can be a bit confusing. It’s like: ‘Well, hey, I did all this other stuff, what was wrong with that?’ It can definitely fuck with your mind a little bit, but, you know - it’s good. I kind of feel like Blood Visions - the idea behind the record, was to take every band I’ve been in, and take the one thing I liked about the band and put them altogether into one big like… One good idea; one big focus of ideas. Some of the other bands I picked and watered down, I wanted to strip everything away that I hated about all these bands and just combine them all [into something better].
 Some artists are talented but lack the passion and drive to carry on with their music once they start making the money. Do you see music merely as a career path or do you have a genuine passion for it?
I mean, obviously I see it more as a passion or… Until recently I haven’t really… I’ve always made a living out of music but the quality of life is - I guess its called living what you’d call living; but people wouldn’t call what I’ve been doing living too well. But until recently it hadn’t really paid off and now I’m comfortable for a while and I don’t have to worry about it. But, you know, I’m making it so that the way I’m making records I wouldn’t have to tour if I didn’t want to. I mean, coming and carrying the gear up this fucking cobblestone road and going to all this trouble, of course it has to be a passion otherwise I’d just give up on it, you know? Words: Dave Dryden
NOTES: The Blood Visions LP is available to buy on on 'In The Red Records'. Matador Records will be releasing six Jay Reatard singles, on limited edition vinyl, by the end of 2008, and a singles collection album. A follow-up to Blood Visions is due for release in early 2009. |
