
Behind the Scenes with the Books
Interview conducted by Julie Shapiro
> How did the Books come together as a band?
We met in New York City through a mutual friend named Julie Wolfe. We all lived
in an apartment building in a Dominican neighborhood called Inwood at the very
northern tip of Manhattan. It was amazing, meringue and little kids on their
tricycles at all hours. Once it was clear that we had a strangely similar
interest in sound, it didn't take long for us to start working together with
the thought that we would try to make 'pop' music. It didn't quite turn out
that way but it most certainly has been fun.
Anne Doerner helped us a lot on 'the lemon of pink' and will be joining us at
the show in Chicago. She is this amazing woman that Nick met in North Carolina,
during the time he spent in the south after completing the Appalachian Trail in
2001. She's this crazy piano genius that studied math at MIT and has spent the
last twenty years nomadically playing fiddle and banjo on farms and on the
streets of various cities all over the world. And she has a great voice.
> How is this musical project different from other ones you've been
involved with?
Unlike our solo efforts, the Books is a collaboration between some very
different people. In the spirit of collaboration we suspend our egos and give
what we have freely and try not to be afraid to have our ideas get screwed up
by other people. It feels very different than working alone since we have each
other to lean on and inspire. It's sort of magical because it allows us to
become more than the sum of our parts. It's one of the most satisfying feelings
there is since it seems to be the reason we are here on this planet. We just
try to have fun and love sound, and respect each other.

> In writing songs, do you integrate samples before or after the
instrumental parts, or do the samples drive the music?
The sound we are after is one where music and samples are integrated, so that
you just can't tell which came first, as if they arose together. Our
compositional style is usually bassackwards, nothing is planned, or at least
the plan involves no preconception. When it's really working the songs seem to
write themselves. A lot of our effort goes into building an enormous library of
sounds and samples, then we just listen to it and internalize it until a kind
of critical mass is reached and the elements start to naturally build
relationships and structures. It's like planting a garden and watching it grow.
Then we make a big meal out of the things we've grown and invite people over to
enjoy it.
> Where do you find recorded sound and samples that are woven into the
music? Do you prefer bits that have a musical quality or do you search for
contrast?
It's strange but most often the sounds seem to choose us. It seems like all we
have to do is keep our antennae up and these amazing things keep coming our way
in a steady, inexhaustible stream. We like turning over the really wet mossy
rocks and sleeping under fruit trees during certain seasons and playing golf in
thunderstorms. Our families are also a constant source of inspiration and
material. Paul seems to have inherited the "collector's eye" directly from his
grandfather, who when sent out to buy clothing would always return with some
old clock. We like the sounds that make us laugh or sigh every time we hear
them. We're particularly struck by a sample when the combination of its sound
and meaning elevate its impact into something that is sincere, profound, or
hilarious.
> Do you think of your songs also as narratives/documentaries/short
stories?
Yes, albeit not particularly didactic ones. They are sort of self assembling
narratives. They are built on the mind's natural tendency to connect everything
by threads, it's unavoidable really. We give our songs a lot of room to breath,
although we're sort of amazed how the same themes tend to repeat and evolve
into a clearer picture. This must be an unconscious outgrowth of our own
interests and foibles....
> What role does radio play in your lives? What kind of radio do you
like best, and is there any correlation between what the Books are doing and
narrative radio work?
Nick: I grew up in suburban Boston in the 80's where it was classic rock
all-day-every-day, and our family spent a lot of time in the car. I still know
all of those songs, and I consider them a big part of my musical heritage. When
Nirvana came on the scene my adolescence kicked in big time, all thanks to the
radio. In college I worked in a lot of chemistry labs, and it turns out that
the majority of scientists are heavily addicted to NPR. They can't go a day
without it, so now I always associate NPR with the smell of acetone and fruit
fly gruel.
Nowadays I flip on the radio in the car to keep abreast of popular culture, the
war(s) and other stupid things. I feel closest to radio that speaks its mind
freely without getting caught up in the commercial world too much. It seems
like wattage and quality are inversely proportional a lot of the time.
Paul: Being an avid music-listener and book-reader for as long as I remember,
radio has always been somewhere in between those two experiences. I do remember
radio actually came before I either could read or started to listen to music
out of my own initiative. I rarely listen to anything as 'background', simply
because I do not seem to be too good at concentrating on more than one thing at
the time. It kind of would be like listening to music really concentrated while
reading Dostoyevsky in the background. Radio is a gentle medium, in that it
brings other peoples' interests into my life without corrupting my own merry
ways.
We recently got our proper introduction to radio production through Gregory
Whitehead. We did the soundtrack for a 90 minute radio drama called The
Loneliest Road, which was commissioned by BBC Radio 3 and will be aired in
September. Its all about the strange yet inspiring people who live on 'the
Loneliest Road in America,' namely Route 50 in Nevada. In parallel with the
making of The Lemon of Pink we composed about 50 minutes of score material from
a series of improvisations around the theme of lonely roads. Then we got
together with Gregory and laid it all down and mastered it. We're proud of it
and hope lots of people get to hear it. Hopefully we can make it available on
cd for those who miss the broadcast.
> The Books will perform live for the first time as part of the Third
Coast Festival this fall. What challenges will you face in creating your music
outside of the studio? What can we look forward to on stage?
We don't want to make an on-stage reproduction of what we do in the studio.
It's hard to imagine how to do that anyway. But we would like to try to stay
close to the spirit in which we create our recorded work. The challenge is to
figure out a way to distribute the sound into a large space while also allowing
the subtleties of the sound to remain intact. At this point we are probably
more comfortable cooking for an audience than playing music for them, so
another challenge is to overcome our shyness that we are so well attached to at
home. This might lead to an excessive theatrical extravaganza, but there will
be some music too, probably. You can expect something bizarre but cohesive,
hopefully.
> Ok, I've got to ask. The name! Where? Why? How?!
Where: October 2000, Nick's last night in New York City before moving to LA.
Why: We like books.
How: We passed around a list of potential names to our
friends, and it was the only name that was universally not chosen. It's much
better than 'The Headless Strausses.'
|