I have to admit that, until recently, I
hadn’t paid enough attention to Jesse Malin’s solo material. I’ve owned records
by his first band, Heart Attack, for many years and was well-aware of
D-Generation, but for some reason just never got around to properly checking
out his own albums. This changed at the beginning of this year when I received
an advance-copy of his latest LP, ‘New York Before The War’ and attended his
low-key acoustic set at The Social in London.
Although musically something of a departure from his earlier output, ‘New York
Before The War’ certainly contains just as much passion and intent as his
previous bands, but chooses to present it in different, varied tones and
tempos, from the upbeat ‘Addicted’ through to the raw tale of ‘Bar Life’.
Seeing the songs performed live added a whole other dimension, with Jesse
serving as entertainer and raconteur alongside the musical accomplishment. It
was this performance that truly won me over and, ever-since, my opinion of the
album has only increased.
Jesse returned to the UK to tour with his full band in May, and with help from the ever-dependable Tones at One Little Indian, I was able to set-up an interview before his gig at The Dome in Tufnell Park. I arrived to discover the band running late, due to sound-check problems, but once everything is sorted, I’m introduced to Jesse and we get straight into the interrogation.
Jesse returned to the UK to tour with his full band in May, and with help from the ever-dependable Tones at One Little Indian, I was able to set-up an interview before his gig at The Dome in Tufnell Park. I arrived to discover the band running late, due to sound-check problems, but once everything is sorted, I’m introduced to Jesse and we get straight into the interrogation.
I wanted to start by asking about Jesse’s
first band, Heart Attack, who came together when he was still only 12 years
old. I’m guessing he hadn’t played in any other bands before then…
‘All I’d done prior to that was play at a talent show when I was in Grade School, doing some Kiss covers. I was into Kiss, just like a lot of American kids at that age. To me, that was punk rock, because I didn’t know anything else. That was when I was 11 years old and we thought the nastiest thing you could listen to was Ted Nugent ! That was the kinda music you listened to if you wanted to piss your parents off. But then I saw the Sex Pistols on some TV show and I started to read about The Ramones in the same magazines that wrote about Kiss. They were all wearing leather jackets , which was kinda from the Fifties, but they were from Queens and they felt like a gang, the same way that Kiss kinda made you feel like part of a gang. So that was when I stopped trying to learn all these crazy scales, like Van Halen or Ygnwie Malmsteen, you know, all that Jimmy Page virtuoso shit, and I just started writing songs. Once I got some people to play with me, I made a phone-call from the School pay-phone to CBGB’s, and got us a chance to play at an audition night, which they had on Mondays when no-one would go there. We came in, but they said we failed the audition because we didn’t bring-in enough drunk people. Then we ended up with a gig at Max’s, on Johnny Thunders’ birthday. He was supposed to come down, so some junkie told us that we had to play ‘Chinese Rocks’ at the end of our set… I didn’t even know what a junkie was back then. I thought it was someone who’d had too many Twinkies or Fruit Loops ! So we played the Ramones’ version of the song for about eight minutes, hoping that he was going to show-up, but by the end of it, still no Johnny Thunders. I thought we’d been had, so afterwards, I went downstairs, and these two Asian guys wearing Italian horn necklaces and satin jackets – very much the style from Brooklyn and Jersey at the time – threw me against the Space Invaders machine, and said, What are you calling us, Chinese Wops ? So I had to try to explain really quickly that it was ‘Chinese Rocks’ and it was a song about drugs, before I got a chance to run away ! Anyway, finally, Johnny Thunders actually showed up and we took some photo’s with him, and he got onstage with the last band up and played some stuff. So that was my first gig at Max’s… But CBGB’s was telling us that the whole punk rock thing was over, that we should listen to something new and that we’d missed that whole scene. And I guess we had, because by then the Ramones were getting into powerpop and stripy shirts, Blondie were getting into disco and The Clash were into all kinds of different stuff. CBGB’s said we should try something new, but all we heard was, like, New Romantic or New Wave shit. Then I saw some flyers on Avenue A, when that area was still more like a ghetto, for a band called The Stimulators, and another band from DC called the Bad Brains. That was how a bunch of us found each other… kids from Queens who were only 15 years old, and bands like Kraut, False Prophets, Murphys Law… We were without cell phones or the internet back then, so we all just met each other on street corners. We often used to meet up on the corner of 7th Street, by the park, where there’s a painting of Joe Strummer, now. So, Heart Attack started to play and suddenly we were part of this new thing that was happening. Speeding up the tempos and changing the style of dance, it became known as Hardcore. We put out our first single, ‘God is Dead’, while I was still 14, through a fanzine called Damaged Goods, and we just carried on from there, having a lot of fun, trying to tour the world… I couldn’t really go to school anymore, because we were always busy. We toured with GBH and Social Distortion… they were great tours, fun times. And we continued with that until I was 16…’
‘All I’d done prior to that was play at a talent show when I was in Grade School, doing some Kiss covers. I was into Kiss, just like a lot of American kids at that age. To me, that was punk rock, because I didn’t know anything else. That was when I was 11 years old and we thought the nastiest thing you could listen to was Ted Nugent ! That was the kinda music you listened to if you wanted to piss your parents off. But then I saw the Sex Pistols on some TV show and I started to read about The Ramones in the same magazines that wrote about Kiss. They were all wearing leather jackets , which was kinda from the Fifties, but they were from Queens and they felt like a gang, the same way that Kiss kinda made you feel like part of a gang. So that was when I stopped trying to learn all these crazy scales, like Van Halen or Ygnwie Malmsteen, you know, all that Jimmy Page virtuoso shit, and I just started writing songs. Once I got some people to play with me, I made a phone-call from the School pay-phone to CBGB’s, and got us a chance to play at an audition night, which they had on Mondays when no-one would go there. We came in, but they said we failed the audition because we didn’t bring-in enough drunk people. Then we ended up with a gig at Max’s, on Johnny Thunders’ birthday. He was supposed to come down, so some junkie told us that we had to play ‘Chinese Rocks’ at the end of our set… I didn’t even know what a junkie was back then. I thought it was someone who’d had too many Twinkies or Fruit Loops ! So we played the Ramones’ version of the song for about eight minutes, hoping that he was going to show-up, but by the end of it, still no Johnny Thunders. I thought we’d been had, so afterwards, I went downstairs, and these two Asian guys wearing Italian horn necklaces and satin jackets – very much the style from Brooklyn and Jersey at the time – threw me against the Space Invaders machine, and said, What are you calling us, Chinese Wops ? So I had to try to explain really quickly that it was ‘Chinese Rocks’ and it was a song about drugs, before I got a chance to run away ! Anyway, finally, Johnny Thunders actually showed up and we took some photo’s with him, and he got onstage with the last band up and played some stuff. So that was my first gig at Max’s… But CBGB’s was telling us that the whole punk rock thing was over, that we should listen to something new and that we’d missed that whole scene. And I guess we had, because by then the Ramones were getting into powerpop and stripy shirts, Blondie were getting into disco and The Clash were into all kinds of different stuff. CBGB’s said we should try something new, but all we heard was, like, New Romantic or New Wave shit. Then I saw some flyers on Avenue A, when that area was still more like a ghetto, for a band called The Stimulators, and another band from DC called the Bad Brains. That was how a bunch of us found each other… kids from Queens who were only 15 years old, and bands like Kraut, False Prophets, Murphys Law… We were without cell phones or the internet back then, so we all just met each other on street corners. We often used to meet up on the corner of 7th Street, by the park, where there’s a painting of Joe Strummer, now. So, Heart Attack started to play and suddenly we were part of this new thing that was happening. Speeding up the tempos and changing the style of dance, it became known as Hardcore. We put out our first single, ‘God is Dead’, while I was still 14, through a fanzine called Damaged Goods, and we just carried on from there, having a lot of fun, trying to tour the world… I couldn’t really go to school anymore, because we were always busy. We toured with GBH and Social Distortion… they were great tours, fun times. And we continued with that until I was 16…’
Being that young, did you have a lot of
support from your family ?
‘Well, my Mum and Dad had split when I was only 8 years old. My Dad liked music, but by then he was living somewhere else. My Mum was still young so she was trying to live her life, but she was supportive. She didn’t understand all the anger, but it was better than being violent. She much preferred me to have a guitar in my hands rather than some nunchuks !’
The very early Heart Attack songs were more humorous, but as you developed, the band became a lot more political, almost in a more Crass-like style…
‘Yeah, we started to get really Crasstafari ! I remember reading the book that came with ‘Christ The Album’ and that had a big impact on me. I had always been more attracted towards the things that people like Jello Biafra, Ian Mackaye or Joe Strummer were saying . It was a lot to take in, but we started getting really serious about the politics. We took it far too seriously and started to become like fascists, judging people and telling them they weren’t real anarchists because they wore leather, or they read pornography, or they shouldn’t listen to the Dead Boys because they were degrading towards women… I sold all my old Rock records to get my anarchist friends’ approval, so then they’d say, you’ve gotta sell the Dead Boys records because they’re sexist. I was really upset about that, but I did it, and then they said I’d have to sell my Iggy Pop records, but that was as far as it went ! Really, all we did was buy beer, eat Indian curries and talked about having our own little anarchist collectives. But I think we meant really well. We’d meet up with these people like Gee, the artist from Crass, and go on demonstrations and things. It was a time when Reagan was President and was trying to tell people that ketchup was a vegetable ! There was the War On Drugs, the war on sex, and the whole Nuclear Fear game. That had us all worried… I was at an age when I could’ve been drafted and there was all this stuff going on in Central America, and you had all the shit going on here with Margaret Thatcher and the Falkland Islands. It was certainly a lot to sing about, the whole threat of war, but on a basic, social level I really learned a lot. I still carry that kinda do-it-yourself thing and I like the idea of a community of people that help each other out, outside of society. It’s a way to connect with bands and a way to talk to people, a way to respect each other and a way to break down that kinda rock star podium. I mean, all of that kinda stuff inevitably came back after punk rock and you got all those Hair-bands, but it was an attitude that always stuck with me. That’s why I always loved bands like The Replacements, because they’re a rock’n’roll band but came from a punk rock place.’
‘Well, my Mum and Dad had split when I was only 8 years old. My Dad liked music, but by then he was living somewhere else. My Mum was still young so she was trying to live her life, but she was supportive. She didn’t understand all the anger, but it was better than being violent. She much preferred me to have a guitar in my hands rather than some nunchuks !’
The very early Heart Attack songs were more humorous, but as you developed, the band became a lot more political, almost in a more Crass-like style…
‘Yeah, we started to get really Crasstafari ! I remember reading the book that came with ‘Christ The Album’ and that had a big impact on me. I had always been more attracted towards the things that people like Jello Biafra, Ian Mackaye or Joe Strummer were saying . It was a lot to take in, but we started getting really serious about the politics. We took it far too seriously and started to become like fascists, judging people and telling them they weren’t real anarchists because they wore leather, or they read pornography, or they shouldn’t listen to the Dead Boys because they were degrading towards women… I sold all my old Rock records to get my anarchist friends’ approval, so then they’d say, you’ve gotta sell the Dead Boys records because they’re sexist. I was really upset about that, but I did it, and then they said I’d have to sell my Iggy Pop records, but that was as far as it went ! Really, all we did was buy beer, eat Indian curries and talked about having our own little anarchist collectives. But I think we meant really well. We’d meet up with these people like Gee, the artist from Crass, and go on demonstrations and things. It was a time when Reagan was President and was trying to tell people that ketchup was a vegetable ! There was the War On Drugs, the war on sex, and the whole Nuclear Fear game. That had us all worried… I was at an age when I could’ve been drafted and there was all this stuff going on in Central America, and you had all the shit going on here with Margaret Thatcher and the Falkland Islands. It was certainly a lot to sing about, the whole threat of war, but on a basic, social level I really learned a lot. I still carry that kinda do-it-yourself thing and I like the idea of a community of people that help each other out, outside of society. It’s a way to connect with bands and a way to talk to people, a way to respect each other and a way to break down that kinda rock star podium. I mean, all of that kinda stuff inevitably came back after punk rock and you got all those Hair-bands, but it was an attitude that always stuck with me. That’s why I always loved bands like The Replacements, because they’re a rock’n’roll band but came from a punk rock place.’
It’s interesting because, although your
lyrics aren’t so overtly political nowadays and come from a more personal
direction, I think that the songs still carry a similar consciousness…
‘Yeah, that’s why I always like to have a lyric sheet with the records and I try to talk about what I’m singing in between songs. I think, even in D-Generation, even though people may have thought we were singing about cars and girls, the lyrics were a little more political and social. Songs like ‘No Way Out’, or ‘Frankie’, which was about drag queens, or ‘Scorch’ which was about arsonists, or ‘Capital Offender’, which was about a Hip-Hop artist and the money going to his head and turning to the criminal system. I mean, people just thought we were talking about hair-do’s and big boots, and maybe that was in there a little bit, but I always liked to put something more into the lyrics.’
The final Heart Attack EP came out on Ratcage Records, which has become known as one of the seminal New York hardcore labels. It also gave your EP distribution in the UK…
‘The label was run by Dave Parsons, who was the guy who designed the lightning bolt logo for Bad Brains. He hooked up with John Loder at Southern Records over here… Dave had a record store, also called Rat Cage, where we all used to hang out when we had nowhere else to go. He was the first person to get all the cool singles and imports. He mentored us and released our EP, as well as the first records by the Beastie Boys and Agnostic Front. He was very cool… he’s gone now, rest in peace, but he was one of the real supporters of the early scene and he connected with the folks at Southern, over here. That’s how we ended up releasing our last record through Rat Cage.’
There was quite a long gap between when Heart Attack ended (1984) and when D-Generation formed, in 1991. I can’t imagine that you weren’t playing music at all during that time ?
‘I had another band called ‘Hope’, but we never recorded. It was kinda like a cross between The Jam and The Replacements, maybe with a bit of Billy Bragg… But I also had to move back home from the City for a time as there was a whole load of stuff with my family. My Mum was sick with cancer and eventually died, so that period was really taken up with that, taking care of my sister and struggling with this band, ‘Hope’. It was the roughest period that I’d been through, up to that point, but I got through it. D-Gen came straight after that because I really wanted to have some fun again !’
‘Yeah, that’s why I always like to have a lyric sheet with the records and I try to talk about what I’m singing in between songs. I think, even in D-Generation, even though people may have thought we were singing about cars and girls, the lyrics were a little more political and social. Songs like ‘No Way Out’, or ‘Frankie’, which was about drag queens, or ‘Scorch’ which was about arsonists, or ‘Capital Offender’, which was about a Hip-Hop artist and the money going to his head and turning to the criminal system. I mean, people just thought we were talking about hair-do’s and big boots, and maybe that was in there a little bit, but I always liked to put something more into the lyrics.’
The final Heart Attack EP came out on Ratcage Records, which has become known as one of the seminal New York hardcore labels. It also gave your EP distribution in the UK…
‘The label was run by Dave Parsons, who was the guy who designed the lightning bolt logo for Bad Brains. He hooked up with John Loder at Southern Records over here… Dave had a record store, also called Rat Cage, where we all used to hang out when we had nowhere else to go. He was the first person to get all the cool singles and imports. He mentored us and released our EP, as well as the first records by the Beastie Boys and Agnostic Front. He was very cool… he’s gone now, rest in peace, but he was one of the real supporters of the early scene and he connected with the folks at Southern, over here. That’s how we ended up releasing our last record through Rat Cage.’
There was quite a long gap between when Heart Attack ended (1984) and when D-Generation formed, in 1991. I can’t imagine that you weren’t playing music at all during that time ?
‘I had another band called ‘Hope’, but we never recorded. It was kinda like a cross between The Jam and The Replacements, maybe with a bit of Billy Bragg… But I also had to move back home from the City for a time as there was a whole load of stuff with my family. My Mum was sick with cancer and eventually died, so that period was really taken up with that, taking care of my sister and struggling with this band, ‘Hope’. It was the roughest period that I’d been through, up to that point, but I got through it. D-Gen came straight after that because I really wanted to have some fun again !’
D-Generation seemed to be the band that had a
lot of critical acclaim but never achieved the success that everyone expected
you to have ?
‘Yeah, that’s what I heard, ha ha ha ! We had a cult following and we also made some money from the record companies which I was able to put that into different things. We toured quite a bit and supported some of our heroes, so we learned a lot. But it just got to the point where it was time to strip it back. I wanted to be able to write songs where you could hear the words and understand a bit more about them, so I went real quiet after D-Gen. It was a good seven years and we were like a brotherhood, a gang or a family. We had something, but when we came out, everyone was dressed up like farmers, you know, the grunge time. Our band had a different style and I think we were misunderstood by a lot of people. They thought we were still part of that whole Hair-band thing, but we were coming from something before that, you know, street-glam, rock’n’roll, more like Generation X ,the Dolls, Iggy & The Stooges or Mott the Hoople. But it almost became Us Against The World at the time. Maybe we weren’t ready, maybe the World wasn’t ready, who knows ? But we had a lot of fun and actually made some money, and I’m grateful that I’ve had all these different periods in my life. I’ve been able to continue playing music since then, on my own, and people still come out to see it.’
You were also involved with the Coney Island High club on St Marks Place in New York around that time…
‘It was me and some of my friends. We wanted to have our own Rock’n’Roll High School in New York. But in the end, it got closed down because we didn’t have the right permits for dancing… this was when Guiliani was mayor and he was enforcing laws from racist prohibition times.’
You kinda spoke about this already, but I wondered if, when you started working on solo material, did you see that as an opportunity to work away from the confines of a band ?
‘Yeah, there’s a freedom in working alone and things can move real fast. I just wanted people to hear my songs and I think, by then, I also wanted to change-up as an artist. I wanted to connect to the core-base and take it down to just me, alone. I wanted to be able to sing about whatever I wanted to… you know, personal breakdowns and examination. I mean, there’s good and bad to both things. When you’re in a band, it’s good because it feels like a gang, but when you’re on your own it’s good because you can just go ahead and do things you want to try, without having to fight for them.’
You were also saying earlier that you like to talk to the audience between songs, to elaborate on the lyrics and whatever. When I saw you play the acoustic gig in London a few months ago, you certainly seemed to have a real dialogue with the crowd…
‘Well, at that show it was also a matter of giving me time to tune-up as I didn’t have a roadie or anyone else there to help me. But if you’re playing an acoustic set I think it makes more sense to do it that way. We were also there to promote the new record, so I wanted to talk about it. I like doing bits like that. I’m just a yakky guy from New York, so I think that’s the right approach. I try to do it at the full band-shows as well, but it’s not the same as an acoustic set. With a full band, it’s more like, ‘C’mon, let’s go !’
‘Yeah, that’s what I heard, ha ha ha ! We had a cult following and we also made some money from the record companies which I was able to put that into different things. We toured quite a bit and supported some of our heroes, so we learned a lot. But it just got to the point where it was time to strip it back. I wanted to be able to write songs where you could hear the words and understand a bit more about them, so I went real quiet after D-Gen. It was a good seven years and we were like a brotherhood, a gang or a family. We had something, but when we came out, everyone was dressed up like farmers, you know, the grunge time. Our band had a different style and I think we were misunderstood by a lot of people. They thought we were still part of that whole Hair-band thing, but we were coming from something before that, you know, street-glam, rock’n’roll, more like Generation X ,the Dolls, Iggy & The Stooges or Mott the Hoople. But it almost became Us Against The World at the time. Maybe we weren’t ready, maybe the World wasn’t ready, who knows ? But we had a lot of fun and actually made some money, and I’m grateful that I’ve had all these different periods in my life. I’ve been able to continue playing music since then, on my own, and people still come out to see it.’
You were also involved with the Coney Island High club on St Marks Place in New York around that time…
‘It was me and some of my friends. We wanted to have our own Rock’n’Roll High School in New York. But in the end, it got closed down because we didn’t have the right permits for dancing… this was when Guiliani was mayor and he was enforcing laws from racist prohibition times.’
You kinda spoke about this already, but I wondered if, when you started working on solo material, did you see that as an opportunity to work away from the confines of a band ?
‘Yeah, there’s a freedom in working alone and things can move real fast. I just wanted people to hear my songs and I think, by then, I also wanted to change-up as an artist. I wanted to connect to the core-base and take it down to just me, alone. I wanted to be able to sing about whatever I wanted to… you know, personal breakdowns and examination. I mean, there’s good and bad to both things. When you’re in a band, it’s good because it feels like a gang, but when you’re on your own it’s good because you can just go ahead and do things you want to try, without having to fight for them.’
You were also saying earlier that you like to talk to the audience between songs, to elaborate on the lyrics and whatever. When I saw you play the acoustic gig in London a few months ago, you certainly seemed to have a real dialogue with the crowd…
‘Well, at that show it was also a matter of giving me time to tune-up as I didn’t have a roadie or anyone else there to help me. But if you’re playing an acoustic set I think it makes more sense to do it that way. We were also there to promote the new record, so I wanted to talk about it. I like doing bits like that. I’m just a yakky guy from New York, so I think that’s the right approach. I try to do it at the full band-shows as well, but it’s not the same as an acoustic set. With a full band, it’s more like, ‘C’mon, let’s go !’
One of the things you talked about at the
acoustic show was the fact that people keep asking you about the title of the
new album, ‘New York Before The War’. Do you like the fact that people seem to
be reading so many different things into that phrase ?
‘Well, it gets their attention and it seems to be something that generates conversation, I guess. I mean, it gets misunderstood and I’ve had to explain it so many times that I’ve started to change my answers ! But looking back, I think it’s appropriate because I could just as easily have called the record ‘Down in Virginia’, as that’s where we recorded it. I think that title was just the way I felt and the only part that frustrates me is that really, New York is just one place and the War that I’m talking about isn’t a violent, physical thing, it’s the state of the whole world at the moment. In New York, the changes started a while ago. I always thought New York used to be like its’ own provincial, European State. I didn’t really see it as part of America, but America came to us. After September 11th, I thought a lot of people would be scared away, but instead it made them more sympathetic. All the gentrification has made it hard for the people who always lived there, so they’ve started moving back to the places that we originally wanted to get the fuck out of ! And now, places like Queens and Brooklyn are starting to get full of clubs, galleries, hipster bars, vegetarians, beards, juices… You know what I mean ! But it’s something that’s happening all over the world, not just New York, and I suppose that’s what I’m trying to say on the record. The War is everywhere, it’s not just New York. It’s like a War against being able to exist and be a free man. It’s expensive being a free man anywhere, these days.’
The album, as a whole, seems to be very much about the atmosphere of the individual songs and how they fit together…
‘Yeah, it’s like a snapshot of these times, the New Millennium, or whatever the kids are calling it. It’s about characters that are just trying to keep a smile on their faces and their heads above water. In these times, you have to think, when you’re given lemons make some lemonade ! Keep the PMA ! I like descriptive character situations and sometimes it’ll be about me, sometimes it’ll be about someone else, and other times I’ll be singing about someone else but it’ll really be about me. I like characters that are in a cinematic space and time, and 90% of it will be based on real people and situations.’
‘Well, it gets their attention and it seems to be something that generates conversation, I guess. I mean, it gets misunderstood and I’ve had to explain it so many times that I’ve started to change my answers ! But looking back, I think it’s appropriate because I could just as easily have called the record ‘Down in Virginia’, as that’s where we recorded it. I think that title was just the way I felt and the only part that frustrates me is that really, New York is just one place and the War that I’m talking about isn’t a violent, physical thing, it’s the state of the whole world at the moment. In New York, the changes started a while ago. I always thought New York used to be like its’ own provincial, European State. I didn’t really see it as part of America, but America came to us. After September 11th, I thought a lot of people would be scared away, but instead it made them more sympathetic. All the gentrification has made it hard for the people who always lived there, so they’ve started moving back to the places that we originally wanted to get the fuck out of ! And now, places like Queens and Brooklyn are starting to get full of clubs, galleries, hipster bars, vegetarians, beards, juices… You know what I mean ! But it’s something that’s happening all over the world, not just New York, and I suppose that’s what I’m trying to say on the record. The War is everywhere, it’s not just New York. It’s like a War against being able to exist and be a free man. It’s expensive being a free man anywhere, these days.’
The album, as a whole, seems to be very much about the atmosphere of the individual songs and how they fit together…
‘Yeah, it’s like a snapshot of these times, the New Millennium, or whatever the kids are calling it. It’s about characters that are just trying to keep a smile on their faces and their heads above water. In these times, you have to think, when you’re given lemons make some lemonade ! Keep the PMA ! I like descriptive character situations and sometimes it’ll be about me, sometimes it’ll be about someone else, and other times I’ll be singing about someone else but it’ll really be about me. I like characters that are in a cinematic space and time, and 90% of it will be based on real people and situations.’
As you’re mostly associated with guitars, I
found it interesting that piano is quite prominent on the album…
‘I’ve always liked the way people like Tom Waits have used piano on their things. Or even the older Elton John records, when it was still angry but also had those great Pop melodies. I’ve always liked piano, but I don’t like it when it gets too… fruity. And I don’t mean that as in ‘gay’, I just mean fruity as in ‘camp’.
There seems to be a lot of different guitar styles referenced on the album, and I was wondering if that was deliberate. The song ‘Immigration Boots’ has a guitar sound that’s very reminiscent of Mick Jones’ style on ‘Combat Rock’ for example…
‘Actually, it was more of a tribute to Big Audio Dynamite, particularly that song they did with Aztec Camera, ‘Good Morning Britain’. It’s a nod to them, but we cut the drum machine. But if you think it reminds you of ‘Combat Rock’, I’ll take that as a compliment !’
‘Deathstar’ also has that kinda twangy guitar, something like Duane Eddy or the ‘Peter Gunn’ theme…
‘That just kinda happened… the song was really more thinking about Mink Deville, Jim Carroll and Lou Reed. But our producer, Don Dilego, had that idea to put that kinda Sixties fucked-up surfer / garage sound in there. And it sounded just right.’
The other guitar sound I wanted to mention is on ‘Oh Sheena’, which kinda reminded me of some of Nicky Garretts’ guitar sounds for the early UK Subs…
‘Well, I love his playing, particularly on ‘Endangered Species’ and ‘Diminished Responsibility’ but that wasn’t what I was particularly thinking about when I was working on that song. I just took a guitar and tuned it like ‘Street Fighting Man’… But it’s funny that you should mention that, because there is a part in the middle that’s kinda like Wire, and I think Nicky used to listen to a lot of Wire. That bit started because I was playing ‘12XU’ or something else from ‘Pink Flag’, and it sorta evolved into the part I used in ‘Oh Sheena’.’
You have several guests making appearances on the album, Wayne Kramer and Peter Buck being two of them. Did you already know those guys ?
‘I’ve done some charity work with Wayne Kramer, the Jail Guitar Doors thing and the Road Recovery thing. We found out that we had a lot of things in common and became friends. He’s like a brother… I’m able to say he’s my Brother Wayne Kramer ! But all of the guests on this album just happened through bumping in to people and thinking about particular songs. It was just a natural progression. I ran into Peter Buck when I was touring with Alejandro Escavedo and he said he was a fan, so when I had a song that had a kinda Rainy Day / REM kinda thing, I called him up and he was super-sweet. I sent him my recordings, he added his part and sent it back. Boom ! That’s how you make modern rock ! It was all done over the internet, but that’s how things go now, and it was beautiful.’
‘I’ve always liked the way people like Tom Waits have used piano on their things. Or even the older Elton John records, when it was still angry but also had those great Pop melodies. I’ve always liked piano, but I don’t like it when it gets too… fruity. And I don’t mean that as in ‘gay’, I just mean fruity as in ‘camp’.
There seems to be a lot of different guitar styles referenced on the album, and I was wondering if that was deliberate. The song ‘Immigration Boots’ has a guitar sound that’s very reminiscent of Mick Jones’ style on ‘Combat Rock’ for example…
‘Actually, it was more of a tribute to Big Audio Dynamite, particularly that song they did with Aztec Camera, ‘Good Morning Britain’. It’s a nod to them, but we cut the drum machine. But if you think it reminds you of ‘Combat Rock’, I’ll take that as a compliment !’
‘Deathstar’ also has that kinda twangy guitar, something like Duane Eddy or the ‘Peter Gunn’ theme…
‘That just kinda happened… the song was really more thinking about Mink Deville, Jim Carroll and Lou Reed. But our producer, Don Dilego, had that idea to put that kinda Sixties fucked-up surfer / garage sound in there. And it sounded just right.’
The other guitar sound I wanted to mention is on ‘Oh Sheena’, which kinda reminded me of some of Nicky Garretts’ guitar sounds for the early UK Subs…
‘Well, I love his playing, particularly on ‘Endangered Species’ and ‘Diminished Responsibility’ but that wasn’t what I was particularly thinking about when I was working on that song. I just took a guitar and tuned it like ‘Street Fighting Man’… But it’s funny that you should mention that, because there is a part in the middle that’s kinda like Wire, and I think Nicky used to listen to a lot of Wire. That bit started because I was playing ‘12XU’ or something else from ‘Pink Flag’, and it sorta evolved into the part I used in ‘Oh Sheena’.’
You have several guests making appearances on the album, Wayne Kramer and Peter Buck being two of them. Did you already know those guys ?
‘I’ve done some charity work with Wayne Kramer, the Jail Guitar Doors thing and the Road Recovery thing. We found out that we had a lot of things in common and became friends. He’s like a brother… I’m able to say he’s my Brother Wayne Kramer ! But all of the guests on this album just happened through bumping in to people and thinking about particular songs. It was just a natural progression. I ran into Peter Buck when I was touring with Alejandro Escavedo and he said he was a fan, so when I had a song that had a kinda Rainy Day / REM kinda thing, I called him up and he was super-sweet. I sent him my recordings, he added his part and sent it back. Boom ! That’s how you make modern rock ! It was all done over the internet, but that’s how things go now, and it was beautiful.’
In the UK,
particularly in London,
it seems that different generations of punk rock or rock’n’roll don’t seem to
have much mutual respect for each other. But I get the impression that in New York, new and older
artists are much more prone to support each other...
‘It wasn’t always that way, but it’s certainly a lot more like that now. People used to be more angry with each other, even though they shared the same passions. The same way you’d have Mods and Rockers over here, we’d have Hardcore guys fighting with Hip Hop people on the subway, or Metal fans throwing shit at different bands when they were opening up for someone else. But somehow, nowadays, after MTV and Lollapalooza and all that stuff, it seems that everybody likes a bit of everything. Which they should… I mean, there’s only two kinds of music in the world, good and bad ! So there seems to be more respect these days for the ‘old guard’. There’s more and more kids reading ‘Please Kill Me’ and wanting to know about all that stuff. I mean, when I was young, you could only go into a record store or a book store and take a chance, or if you were lucky maybe meet someone a bit older and ask them about some of the older bands. Otherwise you had to look at a record sleeve and try to figure things out. But it’s one of the things that I sing about on this album, that downloads and things like that are very disposable and that makes people very apathetic. The whole artefact of a record has gone and in a way that makes it mean less. The way I look at it is that I want to preserve things that mean something to me.’
‘It wasn’t always that way, but it’s certainly a lot more like that now. People used to be more angry with each other, even though they shared the same passions. The same way you’d have Mods and Rockers over here, we’d have Hardcore guys fighting with Hip Hop people on the subway, or Metal fans throwing shit at different bands when they were opening up for someone else. But somehow, nowadays, after MTV and Lollapalooza and all that stuff, it seems that everybody likes a bit of everything. Which they should… I mean, there’s only two kinds of music in the world, good and bad ! So there seems to be more respect these days for the ‘old guard’. There’s more and more kids reading ‘Please Kill Me’ and wanting to know about all that stuff. I mean, when I was young, you could only go into a record store or a book store and take a chance, or if you were lucky maybe meet someone a bit older and ask them about some of the older bands. Otherwise you had to look at a record sleeve and try to figure things out. But it’s one of the things that I sing about on this album, that downloads and things like that are very disposable and that makes people very apathetic. The whole artefact of a record has gone and in a way that makes it mean less. The way I look at it is that I want to preserve things that mean something to me.’
As the gig is starting-early this evening,
time is tight, so we finish-up on that point. Mission-accomplished, I retreat
to the pub downstairs to enjoy a couple of pint of Guinness with Tom and Dee
until it’s time for the gig. The schedule is running early as Jesse is playing quite
a lengthy set, but word seems to have got-around and the room is already
comfortably full. The good thing is that, despite the earlier PA problems, the
sound is really good and gives the whole band the power and clarity they
deserve. Most, if not all, of the new album is played, alongside a few older
tracks and several covers (You want Ramones ? You get ‘Rock’n’Roll Radio’ !)
Jesse also has space to tell further tales between songs and totally draws the
crowd into the performance. By the end of the encores, a stomping version of
‘Sally Can’t Dance’, he spends much of the song in the middle of the audience,
making everyone a part of it. Yeah, maybe it was a bit showbiz, but what would
be the point of rock’n’roll if it wasn’t
fun ? Jesse Malin is someone who has been through a lot, both musically
and personally, and remained true to himself. If you can’t dig that, you can’t
dig nothing…
