Blonde Redhead’s new Misery Is A Butterfly (4AD) is a record that floats, performed by a band known for its bee-sting art punk. The aggressive, two-guitar tangle and twisted shouts that have defined the New York City trio since forming in 1995 unspool into airy ballads and baroque electro-pop. In short, the band has changed horses—jumping off the old Sonic Youth nag and onto Air’s trusty steed. Strings swell where amplifiers used to squeal, and there are keyboards and clavinets where guitars used to be. For Blonde Redhead, a four-year break between albums—due to injury, a label switch and extensive touring—afforded the time and experience necessary to pull off the refined, delicate Butterfly.

MAGNET spoke with the group—singer/guitarist Kazu Makino, singer/guitarist Amedeo Pace and drummer Simone Pace—over dinner in the East Village.

MAGNET: Kazu, I heard you were in an accident recently. Can you tell me about that?
Makino: I fell off a horse and got stuck underneath him, so he stepped on my face and shattered my jaw. My hands were caught in the reins. It was like a dream. I was in the hospital for five days. I had my jaw wired shut for eight weeks. I have titanium here [points to chin]. When it’s really cold outside, it gets colder than other parts of my body.

Does it set off the metal detector at airports?
Makino: Yes. And once it goes off, you can’t get away with saying, “I have titanium here.”

Don’t they give you a card or something that says ...
Makino: Like a dog?

No, like a note from the doctor.
Makino: Maybe I should do that.

Where are the stables where you ride horses?
Amedeo: Upstate New York. It’s near Millbrook, about 19 miles from there.
Makino: We work pretty hard there. We look after the horses and groom them and become employees. They work us really hard. They make fun of us, “Oh, it’s the musicians.”

Do you ride horses, too, Simone?
Simone: [Shakes head] Motorcycles.

There is a sorrowful quality to your new record. It’s not depressing, but it sounds ... the German have a word, “weltschmerz,” which means “world sorrow.”
[Long silence]
Amedeo: I think it comes from the music we’ve been listening to, and love the most, which have a [sad quality] to them. Like Serge Gainsbourg.

Your earlier records had a lot of tension ...
Makino: Angry. And now it’s sad. [Laughs]
Amedeo: It’s when the anger doesn’t come out, there’s sadness.
Makino: Tension builds up too much, and you think you’re sad, but you’re actually really angry. I was told that once.
Amedeo: It’s a hard question to answer, because we can never think of writing a happy song or writing a poppy song. We attempt to.
Makino: We can’t afford to censor anything that comes out. Anything that comes out, we hang onto it.
Amedeo: We’ve tried to say, “Let’s write a song in a major key,” and we’ve managed a couple of things but it doesn’t really happen.
Makino: Things started to look very different to me. I started to look at a butterfly and saw it as something miserable. I felt the burden of being a butterfly.

Do you think the mood on the album has anything to do with the mood of the world post-9/11 or Kazu’s accident?
Makino: I didn’t think, “Why did this happen to me?” I just went through it. So many things are like that. It just comes out in a different way.
Amedeo: For us, the fact that we’re in New York and all that has happened here and in the world, it is a very sad thing, but as far as music, it comes from a deeper song. I don’t think I could ever sing about September 11 or politics, because there’s so much about me I have to sing about before I get to that.
Makino: But everything has something to do with the way the world is now. Music, whatever it absorbs, comes out in the end. People who play music, it’s their burden to absorb everything that’s around us and vomit it out a little bit. It doesn’t have to be political.

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