Just as so many bands have come out of the woodwork recently to sing the praises of working apart from the mainstream music making machine – working independently as it were – it should come as no surprise that some rock writers (some might even call themselves journalists) remember their early days working with small, independent magazines fondly. Unless your last name is Cobain, it’s unusual for any writer to start working at the top of the music magazine food chain; for some, it’s the university newspaper, but more often than not the gateway is a small, modest and financially precarious but very idealistic and hopeful underground mag. I was lucky enough to start at both.
A few twists and turns aside, in my second year of university I got a staff position at my university newspaper and, emboldened by that success (I was pretty flattered that my first job was a paying position when all I had hoped for was reviewing some free CDs) I found a tiny, local independent magazine called Spark and joined their team in hopes that I might further stretch the scope of my newfound career path.
Here’s what I learned working at Spark: it’s true that working indie has a lot of freedom and is a lot of fun. I took a lot away from the experience. I learned to develop my own articles and the ideas for them without editorial input (particularly because I was a member of the editorial staff within two issues), I learned the art of the pitch, and I learned to insert myself in the interior workings of the publication in such a way that, like the elephant in the living room, I was difficult to work around or without.
It was great. It was fun.
The downside is that, like indie labels and indie bands, cashflow was an ongoing concern. Spark being a free ‘zine, they were totally dependent on ad revenue to make it work and, when money got too tight to produce another issue, Spark fizzled. The further downside to that is that they folded when I was already working on a few articles for them including a timely piece on The Gits (who had been defunct for years but made headlines when singer Mia Zapata’s murderer was arrested in 2004; eleven years after she was murdered), one with The Black Keys (whom I've actually interviewed twice for two different publications but both mags I interviewed them for promptly folded), one with The Vines and one with Greg Dulli of The Twilight Singers.
At that time, The Twilight Singers was Greg Dulli’s latest project and his then–new album, Blackberry Belle, found him traipsing still further from the stark and rockist approach that brought him fame with the Afghan Whigs. Rain–slicked songs about addiction (“St. Gregory”), bad women (“Decatur St.”) and even ruminations on mortality (“Martin Eden”) emerged from the very beginning of the record, all delivered in Dulli’s trademark bedroom sigh and giving the impression for the first time that Dulli was very much the man on the outside looking in.
Sonically, Dulli had created a new, lush and densely packed structure on Blackberry Belle that was multi–layered and multi–faceted. Guest appearances including studio vet, Alanis and Chili Pepper henchman Jesse Tobias as well as alt–rock renaissance man Mark Lanegan lent an all–star feel to the sessions but the addition of such players and their placement on key tracks gave the impression that Blackberry Belle wais a Greg Dulli–produced musical vignette. There was very little unoccupied space within the mixes, giving the impression that Dulli was deliberately cramming as much as he could into these songs in case he didn’t get another chance to make any more
At that point, after thirteen years Greg Dulli had finally created the album that ended the cycle he began with Up In It. With the death of all of his characters, Dulli would finally be able to start fresh on his next outing and I was lucky enough to interview him. It has never seen publication in any form until now though.
Looking back, it’s almost embarrassing how under–prepared I was for the interview. I was painfully green (I mispronounced the man’s last name for God’s sake) and managed to inadvertently put my foot in my mouth on more than one occasion. As if to add insult to injury, the tape in my recorder ran out so you’ll find this transcript incomplete.
Even so, Dulli was really patient with me and helped me limp along through this stunted endeavor.
At the time, we talked about another project that he and Mark Lanegan were beginning to work on at the time that found the singers splitting vocal duties in a sort of “Waylon and Willie” kind of way.
Somehow, in spite of the fact that it never saw print and I never had a chance to do anything with the interview, I never recorded over the interview. In fact, it always sort of rubbed me the wrong way that it never ran and that thing about the duets with Lanegan always stuck in the back of my mind; I’d always throw a sideways glace when I was in record stores to see if it ever came out. Then it did; this year. Four years after Greg Dulli and I talked about it, the Gutter Twins’ debut album, Saturnalia, finally saw release on Sub Pop and I jumped on it when a copy of it showed up on my doorstep for review. The wait was worth it, so I felt obligated to finally give Dulli his due now.
Bill Adams vs. Greg Dulli of Twilight Singers (then) or The Gutter Twins (now)
GD: Hello?
BA: Hi, it’s Bill Adams calling, may I speak with Greg Dulli [pronounced Duh–lee –ed]
GD: Greg Dulli’s here [pronounced Dooley].
BA: I’m sorry.
GD: I’ve had it my whole life.
BA: Oh really? Well I’m sorry just the same.
GD: That’s okay, who did you say you were?
BA: Bill Adams from Spark Magazine?
GD: Okay, let me get off the phone with Portugal here and I’ll jump back over.
BA: Okay.
[two minutes lapse]
GD: Bill?
BA: I’m here.
GD: How’re you doing?
BA: Not bad at all.
GD: Sorry about the delay.
BA: Not at all. What’s going on?
GD: Oh, just going around the world fibre optically.
BA: Oh really?
GD: Yeah.
BA: That’s cool. Where are you right now?
GD: I’m in Los Angeles.
BA: Oh I see.
GD: Where are you?
BA: Right around Niagara Falls, Canada.
GD: Oh right on!
BA: Actually, depending upon what part of California you’re in, we’re at about the same level. From a latitude standpoint anyway.
GD: Actually I’m in southern California.
BA: Oh, okay. So how’re you doing? How’s the weather out there?
GD: Well, it really dark here because of these fuckin’ fires. It’s bad. It’s hard to breathe and I smoke a pack a day bro – and I’m having trouble. You go outside, and your windshield is covered in ash. This shit is really fuckin’ bad.
BA: Is there any possibility that you’ll have to evacuate where you are?
GD: Not yet, but there is now a major fire about forty–five miles away.
BA: Oh really?
GD: Yeah.
BA: Oh dear. That’s not good at all. It’s actually raining here right now.
GD: Trade you! We’d love it! Send it over!
BA: I suppose that would be a problem there. There’s not much water; you have to have it piped or trucked in or something.
GD: Yeah, you saw China Town didn’t you?
BA: Yeah.
GD: There you go. We stole water from Colorado and Oregon. [laughing] Thanks guys!
BA: Have a nice day! So anyway, I guess – right off the top – congratulations on your new album. I got it about a month ago from One Little Indian and it’s absolutely fantastic.
GD: Thank you very much.
BA: Now, I was going to ask you – I’ve heard a bunch of conflicting stories regarding the make–up of the band. How does this work? You’re the only full–time member, it’s your project and then you just ask other people to help you out?
GD: Yes.
BA: I see. And how do you pick the musicians that you want to work with? Is it just a matter of saying to yourself, ‘I feel like working with Jesse Tobias today’ and picking up the phone?
GD: Yeah it’s not unlike that. Jesse and I have known each other for a while. He’s been band–leading for a bunch of people like Vanessa Carlton and Michelle Branch lately, but when we were both kind of free and easy, we would get together on Wednesdays, go have lunch, come back to my house, smoke pot and play acoustic guitars. One day we wrote what became “St. Gregory” – and that’s what happened a lot in making this record; a lot of the songs came out of friendly jams that he and I were doing. We’d get together and play around with songs by The Beatles, the Seldom Seen, bring in a banjo and have bluegrass jams and stuff. Everybody else on the record – and they are numerous – are just the people I know; they’re friends of mine that I’d met through my travels, through living in ten different cities in the last fifteen years – Alvin Youngblood Hart was The Whigs’ opening act on the final tour so I knew him from that, I knew Stanton Moore from living in New Orleans, Mark Lanegan’s one of my best friends in the world, I met Appelonia at a party and we became good friends, I’ve known Petra Hayden since she was a little girl… These are all people whom I knew and knew what they could do and I was able to tailor songs and bring in specific pieces of ammunition to fire in my weapon. Doing stuff in a band – like when I was in the Whigs – and having guest players is always difficult. Say you really want to bring in a guitar player, but you’ve already got one and you don’t want to piss him off and that’s frustrating. I saw the Golden Palaminos about thirteen years ago and I just marvelled at what he had done; he wrote a bunch of songs and collaborated with a bunch of people and, from track to track, he held a cohesive vision together by being the one constant but with the flavours and the colours and the palettes all different every time because there was twenty or thirty people in that motherfucker. So working this way, I sort of modelled this album after that.
BA: You said you tailor–made your songs?
GD: Well, what I mean is, if I have a part that I know a certain person could play because I know their style and I know they’d enjoy doing it, I can call them on the phone and ask them to come over and lay down a guitar overdub or whatever particular part I happen to have in mind. The three kids that played horns on “Esta Noche” are three kids from Compton who are in a group called The Young Jazz Giants. My friend Dave puts out their records and I’ve gone down before and produced a couple of tracks for them. So I got to meet all those guys – they’re teenagers – as well as their parents. For “Esta Noche”, I needed a horn blast and I wasn’t in New Orleans which is where I usually get the horns, so I called them up and they were over at my place in an hour flat.
BA: That’s cool. And is the twilight Singers your full–time project now?
GD: Well, it’s my full–time musical project.
BA: Okay, what else have you got on the go right now?
GD: Uhm, I own two bars and I run them both.
BA: Oh really? Where are they? The Los Angeles area I’m assuming….
GD: Yeah, they’re both in Los Angeles. One’s in Echo Park and the other’s in Highland Park.
BA: Oh, I see. And do you find that keeps you pretty busy? I know you’ve got a short tour on the books. It’s coming up right?
GD: Yeah, it keeps me occupied. It’s coming up. And I’ve played a lot of shows, but let me tell you something: twenty–five dates is not that short of a tour. Especially when, in January, I’m going to Europe to do thirty more and then come back and play thirty more in America and then go to Australia and play another twenty–five.
BA: Oh really? Wow. Then your plate’s a lot fuller than it looks on your web site. I don’t think they’re all up.
GD: Yeah, that’s just the first leg. It’s on a need–to–know basis – you know what I mean? Right now, here comes twenty–five; that’s all you need to know now.
BA: I see. Any plans to play Canada in there? I noticed that there wasn’t a Canadian date posted….
GD: Yeah, we’re going to play Canada when we come back. For sure. I can guarantee that we’ll do Toronto, Montreal and the ‘Couv.
BA: Cool. Do you still like going out on the road?
GD: I stopped doing it for a while because I was just flat out burned out. The Whigs played a lot of shows bro, and I’ve been a touring musician since I was thirteen and I’m thirty–eight now. Twenty–five years of that shit? It starts to get pretty fucking hard to get excited about it. What I always tell people is that I play the gig for free, what you’ve got to pay for is the twenty–two hours of fucking around I’ve got to do before and after that gig.
BA: That makes sense. A lot of guys that really tour heavily have said similar things to me; like I talked to Mike Watt not too long ago and it was just after he’d gotten off his fiftieth tour since 1981 and the man’s only forty-five.
GD: Yeah – Mike Watt’s a freak of nature! [both laughing] I’m on his bofus list – I don’t know if you’ve ever–
BA: Yeah, I’m on it too.
GD: You’re on it? Yeah.
BA: Yeah, when I interviewed him, he put me on the list.
GD: I’ve been on that list for years and known Mike since he snuck me into a Minutemen show when I was a kid. I wasn’t old enough to get in. If anyone ever asked me to define rock n’ roll, I’d just tell them to go to San Pedro and fuckin’ look up Mike Watt. Because that’s fuckin’ rock n’ roll right there dude.
BA: The way he was talking to me, I have never heard of someone with more projects on the go at once.
GD: He plays every night! And he also has time to go on, like, a twenty–five mile bike ride every day and then get in a kayak and paddle out, and then write forty–five thousand words a night. Go write a couple of songs, play three shows in three different counties… He’s a freak! But god, I love him man – how can you not love Mike Watt?
BA: His new work is just incredible.
GD: Is that The Secondman?
BA: Yeah.
GD: I haven’t heard it yet.
BA: He came through Toronto not too long ago and it was pretty incredible. I guess now he’s opening for the Chili Peppers and then he’s coming back again.
GD: Yeah, that’s kind of weird to me because let me tell you – The Whigs toured with Neil Young and we toured with Aerosmith and don’t get me wrong, as a rock fan those were epochal moments. Playing Madison Square Garden with Neil Young? I’m not gonna lie to you, I had a fuckin’ hard–on but I knew at the time that the people at the show weren’t there to see me, they’re there to see Neil Young and you know what? If I’m in that audience, I ain’t there to see me either. I don’t blame them. It becomes kind of a lonely place. What I called that Aerosmith tour while we were on it was ‘Arena Rock Fantasy Camp’. I heard playbacks of our tapes and I started sounding like Paul Stanley meets Jimi Hendrix. Talking to the audience – just talking shit – like I’d heard at big rock concerts when I was a kid while I’m thinking to myself, ‘This is cool – I’ll never forget it – but I’d rather come up and play that two–hour show that’s mine.
BA: That’s cool. Now do you still get that feeling when you go out on stage? Like you said, you’ve been doing this for twenty–five years….
GD: I stopped doing it for two years because I was burned out. That’s when I opened the first bar. I come from a family of bar owners so I knew how to do it. I liked the routine of it – you know what I mean? I drove two miles to work, I had lunch at the same place every day… it was a stability that I needed but didn’t know I needed it until I was right in the middle of it. But I can tell you this, I played my first show in two and a half years back in August and I felt like a fuckin’ teenager. It was great; so I’m really looking forward to this; it’s going to be a good time.
BA: Felt good to be back did it?
GD: Oh yeah.
BA: That’s cool. Now, I’m fairly certain that the album’s already out in Britain right?
GD: I think it came out yesterday in Britain.
BA: Okay, what’s the story with North America? Is it out here?
GD: It came out in the US two weeks ago. I’m not sure about Canada though.
BA: Okay, I have difficulty keeping it straight since I stopped working in record stores…
GD: I worked in three!
BA: Let me guess: you worked a small, mom& pop store, then a chain….
GD: I did one mom & pop, then Rhino, then Tower.
BA: Yeah – the equivalent to Tower in Canada would be Sunrise, then I did a mom & pop….
GD: You know? For guys like you and me, it might be a little different. We’ve done the business on both sides so maybe it’s a little demystified. We’ve sat on the side where it’s getting made and know how that works and then we see it go out the door. It’s a little bizarre you know? It’s easy to lose perspective on the whole thing when all you know is walking into a record store and picking up a record by your favourite band.
BA: Yeah, the only thing I’ve never done or seen is the production of the actual disc.
GD: Yeah.
BA: So what else is going on? We were talking about Mike Watt and his dozens of projects and you were saying that you’re starting to get excited about the making and playing of music again, any chance you’ll start a multitude of projects like he has?
GD: I don’t think I could do it like he has 0 he’s in a whole other area. Mark Lanegan and I have been talking about doing this one thing though. We’ve started writing some songs….
BA: Oh really? What’s it going to sound like?
GD: Well, we joke about it being like a Waylon and Willie thing. We’ve really only just started writing so Neither of us is sure what form it’s going to take yet. It may come up as nothing but it’s fun so far.
BA: I don’t suppose you’ve already got a name for it?
[tape cuts out]
