Alas, America’s greatest garage-rock band is no longer vomiting, pissing and setting its instruments on fire (we can confirm this, having seen a kinder, gentler Black Lips on 2007’s Good Bad Not Evil tour), but that’s no reason to miss the Hotlantans on their upcoming jaunt. Check out a preview of their sloptastic February 24 release, 200 Million Thousand (Vice), below. Why not make a game of it? Try to guess how many beers the band members had before hitting the record button. (We figure about 10 each.) In conjunction with the new record, Black Lips are holding a video contest, the winner of which will claim an “extra special” seven-inch (we assume this means vinyl, not a, uh, never mind) and an autographed copy of 200 Million Thousand. Tour dates after the jump.
“Starting Over” from 200 Million Thousand: https://magnetmagazine.com/audio/StartingOver.mp3
Even when he was in his late 20s, Jason Lytle—about to turn 40 in March—seemed old for his time. The burden of being the only songwriter/main creative force for indie-rock cult faves Grandaddy seemed to weigh heavily on him. Since dissolving the band and moving to Bozeman, Mont., a few years ago, Lytle seems much happier, at least on the phone. He loves mountain-biking, still skateboards and goes on long hiking treks into the wilderness, things he couldn’t do so easily when he lived in Modesto, Calif. Montana’s climate certainly fits Lytle’s clothes. Now that he’s signed a record deal with respected Los Angeles label Anti- for his debut solo album, Yours Truly, The Commuter (due out May 19), he can continue to do what he does best: write some of the most appealing songs of the last 15 years and, hopefully, avoid the pitfalls of his earlier musical experiences.
MAGNET spoke to ex-Grandaddy frontman from his Bozeman residence. Lytle will be the guest editor of magnetmagazine.com all this week. Check back for his daily posts on favorite music, film, literature and more.
Just one background question, Jason: Did you do any fornicating last night? [Laughing nervously] What? No, I didn’t. But I’m kind of hungry, so I might be a little edgy.
You haven’t seen Frost/Nixon, obviously. So, why did Grandaddy really break up? It just lost its flair. There’s a whole lotta fucking reasons. I think our time to make it came and went. Some guys in the band would have been OK with just continuing to do it, for the sake of having fun and partying. Touring is not really my element, the big traveling circus thing, not being able to dictate your schedule. I’m a lot more like a wild animal in that respect. It went against my natural instincts. I tried to compensate in negative ways, physically and mentally.
And you were the band, at least when you recorded the albums. That’s a lot of pressure. I don’t know. They were my songs. The whole band thing started out with me being the bedroom four-track guy. I saw it grow in little ways and knew the next step was going to require me to put a band together.
Would you say you’re a perfectionist? [Laughs] As well as I can be, I guess, within the framework of my ability. Anybody who knows half a shit about music would have a hard time imagining that I’m a perfectionist.
How do you feel now about the move to Montana? It’s pretty nice right now, toddling between 40 and 50. It’s clean and bright and there’s snow on the mountains. [In Modesto], the pesticide and the dust from all that agriculture was really bad. I almost completely got rid of my allergies just by moving here. It was a good trade-off.
You’ve used artificial triggers in the past for creating music: drugs, booze. I was running out of things. It’s the old bait and switch, tricking you into thinking it’s a good idea. It ends up being completely non-productive, and then you’re just fucked because now you’ve got this whole brand new problem.
Tell me how you can play the piano but have managed to avoid learning how to type? I was of that mind in school that I didn’t want to be doing one ounce more than I needed to be doing. The whole time, I just thought I’m gonna wind up working in a fucking warehouse. I was a certified fork-lift operator for a couple of jobs I had.
How does it feel, being on the same label as Nick Cave, Solomon Burke, Johnny Cash, Marianne Faithfull, Neko Case and Ramblin’ Jack Elliott? Yeah, I’ve gotta start working on my Christmas-dinner invitations. I’d always heard Ramblin’ Jack’s name but was not familiar with his stuff. But I just got his new one and I really fucking like it. I didn’t know where he fit in, if he was some hippie cowboy.
I saw you slated recently to play at San Francisco International Airport, for ticketed passengers only. Did you do it? Yeah, and it was great! The best part about it was that I hadn’t seen Aaron (Burtch, Grandaddy drummer) in over two years, and I asked him if he’d play that thing with me. I was kinda sheepish, halfway expecting a “who the fuck do you think you are?” email. But he was like, “Yeah, that sounds like fun.” We met up at the airport, gave each other a little hug, and within 40 minutes we were clicking off to the first song. It went about as good as I could have imagined. A lot of it was just me being totally taken by the fact I was having such a good time playing with him. A super big bonus to the whole thing was that I’d been in L.A. the day before because these guys are making a video for one of the songs on the album. I asked them if they wouldn’t mind coming up here to film the airport thing, with an emphasis on the crowd, the people walking by. They’ve already sent me footage of one of the songs and it’s so good. They really got the essence of the weirdness of it, people coming and going. People on layovers were sitting on the ground, watching, airport employees and car rental people were walking by. And there were actually some Grandaddy fans who happened to be at the airport.
I assume you will play some live dates for the new album. There’s gonna be fucking touring. I’m trying not to even think about it. It’s gonna happen, but it’s gonna be done in more of a quality manner. I’m just gonna do as much as I need to do.
Hey, you looked like you were having a pretty good time with that living-room-couch format when I saw you play the Hotel Cafe solo in L.A. in the summer of ’06. Yeah, it’s gotta look more like that. The lineup would be myself, Aaron and this bass player from Bozeman, Rob Murdock, one of the main guys I skateboard with up here. And there’s my friend Rusty Miller, a bit of a multi-instrumentalist, who was up onstage with me that night in L.A. I’m super comfortable with him.
Are you happier now than you were at the end of the Grandaddy era? With Grandaddy, I was just barely keeping my head above water. When I wasn’t on tour, I was recovering from tour. All I wanted to do was be left alone. I’m actually enthused about stuff now, and I get ideas and get excited about them. I’m still cranky and an asshole to the people that I love. But there’s a lot more positivity surrounding me, and it’s rubbing off on me in good ways.
—Jud Cost
Grandaddy’s “Nature Anthem” from 2004’s Artist’s Choice: Below The Radio:
We’ve been fans of New Jersey’s finest since even before their first album came out back in 1994, so let’s just say we’re used to sitting around waiting for them to take their sweet-ass time putting out new music. (Three albums in more than 14 years makes the Wrens about as prolific as Boston, which is kind of like being as tall as Kenny Baker.) As reported in a Wrens Watch Special Report, January 9 marked a huge milestone for the guys: guitarists Charles Bissell and Greg Whelan, bassist Kevin Whelan and drummer Jerry MacDonald. They issued “Pulled Fences,” their first new (well, sort of new) song since 2003’s The Meadowlands. Perhaps motivated by finally releasing something, the band convened—not in a real studio, but in Kevin’s basement—last week to begin work on its new album. We checked in with Bissell to see how things are going.
:: Wrens Watch, Jan. 26, 2009
MAGNET: We’ve said mean things to each other in this space, but people must realize we’re friends. Wrens Watch exists because we love you guys as a band, but also as friends. We were so happy for you when you got married and had a kid. And—hint, hint—we’re sure you’ll eventually let us meet the family, right? Bissell: What? Oh, uh, yeah sure. I’ll totally let you know about that. Now’s not really good. The band has been so busy recording and stuff. And, you know, I don’t really involve them with Wrens stuff or meeting music writers or anything. Well, we couldn’t do it now anyway. The wife broke her foot and can’t really leave the house. She is desperate for new music. She actually said a new Wrens album would make her feel better. Well, I’m here to heal. Bring your wife closer as I croon songs of love. Hold on, I’ll tell her that … She said that she would rather have Kevin croon to her, because at least he has more than two new songs written. And that she doubts you guys recorded anything last week, if you got together at all. Tell her we did convene in the basement last Monday and recorded a song. Not only that, I just finished a quick mix of it. Phew. That was exhausting. Wonder what I’ll do next year. [Laughs] You see? That’s your problem right there. Not only do you guys take forever to do anything, you joke about it. Totally unprofessional. I forgot I’m talking to Mr. Professional. Thank god you’re a pro. Both of MAGNET’s subscribers are counting on you. And here’s a little something special for both of them: a downloadable mp3 of the song we recorded Monday.
We’ve spent the past few weeks posting items from issue #80’s 15 In Philly feature, our 15th-anniversary spotlight of favorite music from MAGNET’s hometown. Guess what? It’s year 16. This week, we pay attention to the newcomers, make amends for the omissions and basically try to cover our asses. Because all beatdowns are local.
A Sunny Day In Glasgow may be the closest thing that Philadelphia has to a blog band (perhaps with the exception of Philly/Brooklyn’s Clap Your Hands Say Yeah). “The Best Summer Ever” from The Sunniest Day Ever, the band’s 2006 debut EP, caused a justifiable stir among those looking for an unknown to claim as their own: It’s a shimmering, sunny update of Cocteau Twins/My Bloody Valentine dream pop with a joyful melody, and it’s so densely saturated that everything—the soprano voices, the reverberating guitars, the processed drums—seems mixed at an equal level.
“The Best Summer Ever” from The Sunniest Day Ever:
“There are maybe 10 or 12 things I could teach you,” sings Carl “A.C.” Newman on his new solo album, Get Guilty (Matador). “After that, well, you’re on your own.” This week, MAGNET lets the New Pornographers frontman steer our website toward 10 or 12 of his own favorite things in music, film, literature and life.
Read our verdict on the orchestral-pop case of Get Guilty and a Q&A deposition with Newman here.
Newman:Leonard Michaels is a short-story writer who started writing in the ’50s. He didn’t put out that much. (Publishers) Farrar, Straus and Giroux just put out The Collected Stories, which is a massive chunk of everything he did. He’s kind of an angry Jewish writer. He’s darker and more experimental than Philip Roth. Portnoy’s Complaint (Roth’s 1969 novel) is warped but still kind of cute; Leonard Michaels was a lot darker. He kind of reminds me of Grace Paley, too. Leonard Michaels’ son, Jesse, actually was the singer in Operation Ivy. I learned that from Wikipedia, by the way.
This concludes “A.C. Newman Week” here at magnetmagazine.com. Thanks to Carl for ruthlessly dictating our content. Go to the store and buy Get Guilty along with four copies of the latest issue of MAGNET. To read our 2005 cover story on Newman and the New Pornographers, click here.
Alas, America’s greatest garage-rock band is no longer vomiting, pissing and setting its instruments on fire (we can confirm this, having seen a kinder, gentler Black Lips on 2007’s Good Bad Not Evil tour), but that’s no reason to miss the Hotlantans on their upcoming jaunt. Check out a preview of their sloptastic February 24 release, 200 Million Thousand (Vice), below. Why not make a game of it? Try to guess how many beers the band members had before hitting the record button. (We figure about 10 each.) In conjunction with the new record, Black Lips are holding a video contest, the winner of which will claim an “extra special” seven-inch (we assume this means vinyl, not a, uh, never mind) and an autographed copy of 200 Million Thousand. Tour dates after the jump.
We’ve been fans of New Jersey’s finest since even before their first album came out back in 1994, so let’s just say we’re used to sitting around waiting for them to take their sweet-ass time putting out new music. (Three albums in more than 14 years makes 
