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Articles:Lime Lizard - April 1993: Difference between revisions
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“Like, I enjoy spending time here, in London, although it’s got so depressing. People seem so depressed here, compared to San Francisco. I mean, I love London, really, but if you’re alone here it can be hard. I was alone here for two months in 1992, didn’t speak to anybody. I took the Tube all the time, everywhere. I can’t even sit on the Tube now because I get really paranoid about people. You sit facing somebody and they don’t look at you and you don’t look at them, or else they are looking at you, which can be worse.” | “Like, I enjoy spending time here, in London, although it’s got so depressing. People seem so depressed here, compared to San Francisco. I mean, I love London, really, but if you’re alone here it can be hard. I was alone here for two months in 1992, didn’t speak to anybody. I took the Tube all the time, everywhere. I can’t even sit on the Tube now because I get really paranoid about people. You sit facing somebody and they don’t look at you and you don’t look at them, or else they are looking at you, which can be worse.” | ||
Even allowing for the new musical experimentation evident on | Even allowing for the new musical experimentation evident on ‘'[[Mercury]]'', no-one listening to the album for the first time will fail to be struck by the seeming incongruity of the penultimate track, "[[More Hopes And Dreams]]". Two minutes worth of barely audible electronic bleeps possessing an elusive and strange melody, it can be either maddening or soothing, depending on your mood. No matter how you react to it, it clears the palate for the similarly hushed and intimate finale, "[[Will You Find Me]]". So the risk pays off, ultimately, although what it is that’s emitting this curious musical sorbet remains a mystery. | ||
“That’s a power station in San Francisco,” says Mark, satisfying my curiosity. “I think it’s a systems check, to say that all the systems are going well. Me and Vudi were out there one night taking pictures and we listened to it and thought ‘This is it! We want this on the album’. We weren’t sure how we were going to use it, we just went and recorded it.” | “That’s a power station in San Francisco,” says Mark, satisfying my curiosity. “I think it’s a systems check, to say that all the systems are going well. Me and Vudi were out there one night taking pictures and we listened to it and thought ‘This is it! We want this on the album’. We weren’t sure how we were going to use it, we just went and recorded it.” | ||
Before I can question further the wisdom of what seems like quite a deliberately perverse decision, Vudi anticipates my question with a purely aesthetic approach which precludes further | Before I can question further the wisdom of what seems like quite a deliberately perverse decision, [[Vudi]] anticipates my question with a purely aesthetic approach which precludes further skepticism. “It has a nice musical quality. I think there’s a lot of suspense in that little melody.” | ||
There’s no doubt that American Music Club make an unlikely major label band. Both Mark and Vudi freely admit that the ‘grunge revolution’ helped bring them to the attention of record companies who would have ignored them in pre- Nirvana days. However, they don’t feel any great affinity with the new wave of ‘slacker’ guitar bands, whose chief concern seems to be avoiding the extreme emotional highs and lows that Eitzel and co. fearlessly explore. If there’s any one relatively modern band Eitzel is more than happy to draw a parallel with, it’s the late, great Replacements, critical darlings of the 1980s, with a loyal cult audience similar to AMC’s, who signed to a major after the independent success of the seminal | There’s no doubt that [[American Music Club]] make an unlikely major label band. Both Mark and [[Vudi]] freely admit that the ‘grunge revolution’ helped bring them to the attention of record companies who would have ignored them in pre-Nirvana days. However, they don’t feel any great affinity with the new wave of ‘slacker’ guitar bands, whose chief concern seems to be avoiding the extreme emotional highs and lows that Eitzel and co. fearlessly explore. If there’s any one relatively modern band Eitzel is more than happy to draw a parallel with, it’s the late, great Replacements, critical darlings of the 1980s, with a loyal cult audience similar to AMC’s, who signed to a major after the independent success of the seminal ''Let It Be'', lost a brilliant guitarist who had been threatening to pull the whole band down into whatever private Hell he had been occupying, and then gradually disintegrated until singer-songwriter Paul Westerberg emerged as a solo artist in his own right. | ||
“They were a great rock band for a while,” muses Vudi, “they just didn’t have a clue so they were great. With the original line-up, they just didn’t give a fuck and that really helps.” | “They were a great rock band for a while,” muses [[Vudi]], “they just didn’t have a clue so they were great. With the original line-up, they just didn’t give a fuck and that really helps.” | ||
Adds Mark: “They just wanted to be a rock band in the classic sense and…self-destruction ahoy! Which is fine.” | Adds Mark: “They just wanted to be a rock band in the classic sense and…self-destruction ahoy! Which is fine.” | ||
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I guess so. Although you do appear to be relishing that last thought to a rather worrying degree. | I guess so. Although you do appear to be relishing that last thought to a rather worrying degree. | ||
“Well, y’know, we try to emulate them, but in our own lame sort of way. | “Well, y’know, we try to emulate them, but in our own lame sort of way." | ||