Photo: Basia Jacaszek

Recording Under the Influence is a recurring self-titled feature where we ask artists to ignore their musical inspirations for a minute and share what really went into the making of a particular record. Under the microscope this week: Jacaszek, an old neo-classical favorite who recently graced us with the carefully orchestrated—and delicately paced—doom and gloom of Glimmer (available now through Ghostly International)…

1. Polish Weather Patterns
Lots of people here complain about the weather, depression, stagnation in social life, low quality of culture and entertainment offers. The fall/winter and winter/spring transition period can be really hard, but for me, it’s a really comfortable situation to work. I love those foggy little cities with empty streets, closed people, grey, cloudy skies, distant, disappearing horizons. All this generates a kind of melancholy, a trance mood that exists in my head. It is a really great creative time.

2. Visual Arts
I am deeply fascinated with painting and the visual aspect of music. Hopefully I will get close to a musical equivalent of great northern European art one day. Here is a list of art and painters who are very close to my heart, more or less influencing my music…

Medieval/Renaissance/Baroque decoration art. Golden backgounds present on sacral paintings; gold patterns on altars; colorful glimmerings of stained glasses. This is just pure music for my eyes.

Distant horizons in the Flemish and Nederland landscape paintings of Patinier, Bosh and Brughel cause some kind of longing and nostalgia. The distant space really calls me. I can hear it!

Dark landscapes and the deep symbolism of Friedrich’s works creates some kind of “positive anxiety.” The melodies and history behind these paintings are very inspiring.

Polish modern painters like Tadeusz Dominik. His rhythmic landscape compositions have extreme musical potential.

3. Poems
Aside from some classical music examples, it is really hard to find a satisfying poetry-meets-music crossover. I dream to work on it anyway. Among the many poets I love (mostly Polish), I especially admire English metaphysical poetry. Robert Herrick’s or William Blake’s poems about paradise really drive me to turn those words into songs. It is again a matter of nostalgia and melancholy these poets generate in my heart. I found many inspiring phrases in Gerard Manley Hopkins’ work. Lots of his sensual expressions were used as titles on my latest album, Glimmer.

4. Women
I make music for women, particularly for my wife. It is a subconscious matter, but it really works like that. A real, probably most archetypal reason I do music is a need to be “someone” to  “her”—someone satisfying, important, significant. I have realized that every time I release an album or play a concert, her or “their” positive feedback is the one I anticipate and get the most gratification out of.

5. My Studio
I love the place. Being a bit isolated, playing with my toys. My workshop, with all the software, hardware and instruments, offering endless possibilities to create or shape the sound is really lovely and an inspiring playground. Looking at those little buttons, knobs, pads, keys and strings, I just can’t stop myself from constantly creating music.

—

Recording Under the Influence is a recurring self-titled feature where we ask artists to ignore their musical inspirations for a minute and share what really went into the making of a particular record. We’ve already told you why we love Veronica Falls’ debut LP; now it’s time to delve into what drives one member—drummer Patrick Doyle, who wanted us to let you know that the rest of the London-based group does not in fact endorse The Gilmore Girls… 

I LOVE THE GILMORE GIRLS
My favorite TV program. No matter what is going on in my life, these two women never fail to restore normality and sanity within a couple of episodes. Like a younger version of the Beale’s of Grey Gardens, the Gilmore’s offer a fresh perspective on every situation and continue to bring me to tears, either of happiness or of joy.

I LOVE LONDON
Moving to London was a big influence on me as far as music goes. I was tired of Glasgow and felt I had exhausted it was a city as far as inspiration goes. I find getting to know a city is such an exhilarating experience and London is an incredible city to discover. Three years on, I still feel like I’ve only scratched the surface of things to do and see here. I’m in love with London.

I LOVE CYCLING
Having been without a record player until recently, the only way I choose to listen to records was to ride my bike with my headphones turned up full. Again exploring London, with an album to keep you company is an amazing experience. Last night I went for a cycle just so I could listen to a new record. I think it might have overtaken my love for listening to records in my bedroom.

I LOVE COFFEE
My raison de vivre! My brain would definitely struggle without the aid of an Americano (or five). Preferably from La Bouche at the Broadway Market. My daily ritual is to cycle through London Fields for a coffee and a cigarette, hopefully accompanied by a new album or mixtape to listen to.

I LOVE BOYFRIENDS
One of the biggest influences, surely? The people who makes us happy/sad/angry—sometimes all three within an hour.

—

Photo: Jeffrey Harmon

Recording Under the Influence is a recurring self-titled feature where we ask artists to ignore their musical inspirations for a minute and share what really went into the making of a particular record. This week we delve into the dense beat suites of Alias, which swirl and swing their way through his new Fever Dream LP…

1. Not Touring Anymore
This is a big one for me. Since I’ve stepped away from making music as my main source of income, I have felt a massive weight lifted off my creative shoulders. I did it for seven years and I just couldn’t anymore. Making that change really opened up a lot for me on an inspirational level. It’s made working on music fun again. I got to a point where I was obsessed with every little aspect of making and releasing music; thinking, ‘If I get a negative review, there’s less of a chance new people will come out to shows. If less people come out to shows, I sell less merchandise. If I sell less merchandise, I’m struggling to pay bills.’ It was all starting to make the creation of music feel like a job and that’s not why I started out making music. Music is a release for me, not a source of worry. So I quit touring and got a jobby job. The amount of music time isn’t as great as it used to be, but I find myself more focused and creative with the time I have as opposed to spending all day on something. Feels really great to just have fun with it again.

2. Cooking
From those seven years of touring, I walked away with a new obsession. Eating at restaurants everyday for months at a time is fine and all, but when I would get home from touring, the last thing I would want to do is eat at a restaurant. I’m all about cooking now. I’ve built up my studio to a point where I have everything I need, so nowadays you’re more apt to find me at the housewares department of a store than at Guitar Center. Five years ago, I would have treated myself to a new keyboard or effects pedals. Nowadays I treat myself to things like KitchenAid mixers. I make my own bagels. What’s not gangsta about that? Having another outlet to be creative pushes the creativity of my music making.

3. Season Change
I missed having the cycle of seasons when living in Oakland. It feels like early fall from February to November and then it just rains for two months. Since I moved back to Maine, it’s been a motivating force in my music making. Summer is pretty much useless on the music making tip now, though. If I’m not hanging out with friends at a cookout or going swimming, I’m miserable because it’s too hot and humid. So not a lot of music in the summer. But that first week of cooler weather in early September? I make up for all the lost time from the previous three months.

4. Portland, Maine
Because of all the touring I did, I was able to visit a ton of different cities in a short amount of time. I would keep coming back to Maine to either play a show on tour or to visit my family. Every time I came back, there was something about Portland that just put me at ease and made me calm. It’s such a cool little city. It’s very small (63,000 people) but it has everything you would possibly need or want in it. Insane array of top-notch restaurants, a cool music scene with great venues, and tons of mom and pop type stores all contained in an easily walkable area. It’s my favorite city in the world.

5. The Casco Bay Bridge
I live in south Portland, which is across from downtown Portland. Connecting the two is the Casco Bay Bridge. Walking across the bridge is probably about a 10-minute span. It could probably be a shorter time but I take my time with it. It’s such a great view of the water and also of downtown Portland. My favorite time to walk over it is in the winter when it’s snowing and dark. It’s also awesome in the fall when all the leaves have started to change. The area of south Portland I live in is really residential and wooded, so it’s cool to stand on the bridge and see so many pockets of color. It relaxes me when I’m on my way home…gets me centered and ready to work on music.

Recording Under the Influence is a recurring self-titled feature where we ask artists to ignore their most obvious musical inspirations for a minute and share what really went into the making of a particular record. Since Agalloch is one of the country’s most compelling but reclusive metal bands, we didn’t expect to hear much back from them about last year’s Marrow of the Spirit LP. Guitarist Don Anderson and drummer Aesop Dekker came through with a couple hints about their creative process, however.

Check them out below, alongside two lengthy cuts from their fourth full-length…

BÉLA TARR FILMS
We’ve always been influenced by cinema, but during the writing and recording of the new album I was particularly drawn to the work of the Hungarian filmmaker Bela Tarr. [Frontman] John [Haughm] had introduced me to his film Werckmeister Harmonies. After seeing his other work, I was completely absorbed by his static long shots, real time sequences, and incredibly stark black and white photography.  The opening to Werckmeister Harmonies stands as one of the greatest in cinema and continues to resonate in my memory today. I often would express a musical idea to John or [bassist] Jason [William Walton] in terms and images that had more to do with Tarr than anything else. — Don Anderson

STEVEN WRAY LOBDELL
Although a musician himself, it was more his attitude to performing that helped me expand my playing while recording [Marrow of the Spirit]. After having recorded six albums between Agalloch and Sculptured, I was very set in my ways. Steven’s emphasis on achieving a level of looseness and breath within the songs and my phrasing as a guitarist was incredibly influential. He is responsible for the more “live” sound of this new record. — D.A.

That Frazetta painting of a berserker is always somewhere in my mind when playing drums. — Aesop Dekker

Recording Under the Influence is a recurring self-titled feature where we ask artists to ignore their musical inspirations for a minute and share what really went into the making of a particular record. Here’s what Gary War “ingested” while making his murky, synth-chased Police Water EP, available now on Sacred Bones…

Bill Hicks
The last semi-mainstream voice of truth as the U.S. secured its totalitarian military/industrial dominance of the planet. He called out all the political and entertainment scum whose “fevered egos were tainting our collective unconscious and making us pay a higher psychic price than we imagined.” He was the most fearless, honest and greatest comedian. R.I.P.

Guy Debord, “Refutation Of All Judgements” (1975)
The most inspiring critical theorist. Uncompromisingly scathing, brilliant, and 100-percent right about everything. Always good to check in with him every month or so. R.I.P.

The Coming Insurrection, by The Invisible Committee
French Anarchist text that was used as evidence in an anti-terrorism case after nine individuals were arrested in 2008 on the grounds of sabotaging power lines on France’s national railways. Essential and extremely inspiring.

“It’s useless to wait; for a breakthrough, for the revolution, the nuclear apocalypse or a social movement. To go on waiting is madness. The catastrophe is not coming, it is here. We are already situated within the collapse of a civilization. It is within this reality that we must choose sides.”

Great Pacific Garbage Patch
So bleak. Check it!

Nightmare USA: The Untold Story of the Exploitation Independents, by Stephen Thrower
A compendium of ’70s/’80s U.S. underground art/horror films. Great interviews, pictures and lists of hundreds of films. An incredibly thorough labor of love. Anyone have a copy of Troika they’re willing to trade for something?

Recording Under the Influence is a recurring self-titled feature where we ask artists to ignore their musical inspirations for a minute and share what really went into the making of a particular record. Since we’re not quite sure what the hell’s driving the twisted pop tunes on Cerulean (the full-length debut of Baths, available now on Anticon), we went straight to the source: multi-instrumentalist Will Wiesenfeld, who shared the album’s ‘philosophy’ and the strange stories behind a handful of songs. Not quite what we usually get from this feature, but we’ll take it!

“It sounded melodious but impossible to sing along to…I thought that was hilarious.”

Going into the album, I started with a very simple philosophy and some small ideas to try and keep some sort of consistency. I definitely wanted to create a very beat-oriented album, but the main thing was that I wanted both the process and the outcome to be a thoroughly enjoyable experience. I wanted to force myself to have fun—sort of—and to not overthink anything.

The first thing I told myself (I guess this is the philosophy I had…) was that I wouldn’t premeditate anything I recorded on the album. If I felt inspired, I just needed to immediately start recording, and leave the brainstorming to my fingers and my recording equipment. I wanted to get a little outside of my own head, I guess. A huge part of my process is usually to think things out beforehand—reconsidering ideas and throwing tons of things away before I ever actually sit down and begin to record music. I still like that sort of process, but I just wanted this album to feel different: lighthearted and unpredictable, with that sort of ‘childlike innocence’ thing. I think it helped a lot to not pre-plan it. The actual recording sessions in my bedroom lent themselves to a crazy amount of experimentation, and I got SO much joy out of that.

The other main thing that helped was knowing the title really early on. I fell in love with the word “cerulean” after recording some of the first few tracks I threw away…It has all sorts of positive connotations (it’s derived from the Latin word for “heaven” and “sky”) and it stands for a sort of spectrum of blue hues, not just one in particular. I wanted the album to formulate itself the same way; I wanted this overlaying positivity, and a range of material that still existed within its own little world. It helped a lot—being able to think of the title when bouncing dozens of ideas off of each other. I could hone in on the best decisions much faster, and I felt much more self-assured with each one. Making music is always unpredictable, but I think simple guidelines and ghost rules can help make it so that all the material you’re making has a comfortable level of similarity, even if it doesn’t seem blatantly apparent from song to song.

Aaaaaaaaand, here’s some insight into a couple of the songs on Cerulean:

“Maximalist”
When I sat down to start recording “Maximalist,” I already had the title. I had heard someone on the Internet describe an artist’s music as being ‘maximalist’ and taking up all possible audible space, which I though was SO tight, so I pulled out my equipment and I wanted to try and build something of my own to fit the word. The first idea (which turned out to be the best thing) was to literally maximize my resources—I used every single physical instrument I had available to me. I made this wall of guitar, piano, bass, vocals, synth and Casio that was too thick to retain any melody. I was really happy with it—it sounded melodious but impossible to sing along to, as my friend Mario later pointed out. I thought that was hilarious. From there, I just made a simple enough rhythm to ride that wall through the entire song, because I wanted that block of sound to remain the focus.

“Basically I was just vibing. Super hard.”

“Aminals”
I was on the Internet (it’s almost literally my entire life) looking at hundreds of drawings of Japanese furry stuff (not pornographic, just gay and adorable or whatever) and a compulsion came over me. I NEEDED to make a song that felt as ridiculous and cutesy as the idea of a bunch of anthropomorphic tigers in Kimonos getting mildly drunk at some Japanese festival. DUH, right? So I got down to doing the thing; I just happened to start with guitar stuff (again, trying not to over-think anything) and fucked with it in Ableton Live for a while until I got this sort of cute ‘animal’ type of sound. That became the foundation for the vibe of the entire song, and the production fell into place soon after. I think it was actually one of the fastest songs to come together on the album? I also remember being totally thrilled to find the awesome kid samples on YouTube, and even though it was originally a more ‘adult-cute’ mindset, the title “Aminals” felt way too fitting not to use: Every English-speaking child on the planet has mispronounced the word “animal” the exact same way at one point or another, and it’s ALWAYS awesome and bizarrely adorable

“Rain Smell”
I woke up one day in November of last year (I think?) to the most surprisingly calming weather. I had left my window open overnight; apparently, there was a storm, and it was still raining very lightly outside. Coming off my roof, the water sounded like a trickling old stone fountain or something. The air was totally gray and sort of sad, but there were these birds chirping quietly through the bad weather in some far-off tree…basically I was just vibing. Super hard. Nature. I just laid in bed listening to everything for like an hour before I realized that using that as a backdrop for a song would sound amazing. I got my recording shit together, and I placed my microphone right next to my open window, then let the 5-or-so-minute loop that I recorded play back while I futzed around on the piano. This perfect, emotionally timid little piano part came together, and I recorded it straight away. (So we’re about an hour and 15 minutes in from me waking up, btw.)

I was on such a roll. I was in it— that feeling that you get when you’re recording music and literally every single thing just fits together. Indescribable. This was turning into one of the most natural evolutions of a song I had experienced in a LONG time, and I was so happy that no one was home at the time. I was totally undisturbed and could just work until I could capture this strange emotional state as accurately as possible. Still without the rhythm in place, I began writing the lyrics. The cold, natural smell in my room was totally overwhelming, like there was some other presence in the room. It completely took over the rest of my senses. Hence, “Rain Smell.”

The lyrics came to fruition as naturally as everything else. They ended up simple, repetitive, and strangely reminiscent of something that I wasn’t sure I had actually experienced? Nostalgia that I couldn’t place? I dunno. I was freaking, though, in the best of ways. I think the end result after the rhythm came together was the most satisfied I had felt in a long time. I LOVE MAKING MUSIC. Dude. I’m still losing my shit that there’s a chance I may get to have a career doing what I love to do. AHHHH. LYFE.  <3 <3

Recording Under the Influence is a recurring self-titled feature where we ask artists to ignore their musical inspirations for a minute and share what really went into the making of a particular record. Today’s installment is one of our best yet—a brutally honest breakdown of Woven Bones’ punk-in-drublic debut (In and Out and Back Again, out now on HoZac) by frontman Andrew Burr. The trio’s month-long east coast tour starts this week and includes a free South Street Seaport gig with Yellow Fever on July 2.

“I’ve been doing a lot better as of late, so the next record might just be about sobriety and down pillows with a girl’s perfume on them.”

FLIPPITY GIRLS/BANDS x INFINITY/AUSTIN BOOZY LIMITS
I’ve been doing Woven Bones in the form that is now for almost two years—basically the whole time I’ve lived in Austin. It’s pretty much a regular all-American town with a much larger dose of music, culture and arts injected into it than other non-coastal/port/art hub towns. A lot of people find this place to be very inviting because of all this combined with cheap rent, the college and a stable local economy compared to other towns of its size and proximity. So there are hip kids here for sure, dudes and girls alike, like-minded and good-looking, smart and also completely sheepish. It’s so inviting that we get new transplants after every SxSW.

That said, this town is so over-saturated with bands, ’soon to be bands’ and their gangs of friends ready and willing to profess full allegiance to their rock ‘n’ roll creed of ‘making it’ (a term that definitely runs musicians lives here just as much or more than anywhere else). It’s a double-edged sword in all respects. You’ve gotta figure out how to take advantage of this place and just be happy with getting by if you’re really in the thick of trying to make things happen on your own. As far as getting gigs, bands gotta get ahead on their own and man up before they even get to the medium level plateau of getting paid well, or even decent. All the clubs here exist in the non-festival times and have bands every night. It’s a crazy thing. We all wanna eat, including the club employees, so the owners wanna scrape enough cheddar off the top so they can expand their own manifest destiny You’ve gotta learn how that shit rolls and just deal with it, ’cause it’s not going anywhere.

So I find myself looking for love in Austin, and it’s daunting. I’m not looking for the rock ‘n’ roll girl, or maybe I am—she hasn’t appeared like the Holy Grail or anything yet. I’ve actually always been really attracted to girls out of the rock ‘n’ roll line of site, though going to shows and what not is part of just about everyone’s lives here, and probably this mysterious girl’s life too. I’ve fell hard for a bunch of girls and gone back and forth, but I have never really been able to offer much because I’m the one in the band that doesn’t have a legit job and just runs things for us nonstop. It’s led me from one band friend’s couch or practice space room to the next; grime pad to nice pad, nicer to grimier, wherever the last tour has left me financially. We’ve been doing shit non-stop since we started, just like any other band that works. There are an ample selection of band dudes in Austin, so none of us are special. In fact, there are plenty of attractive, hip and smart dudes that have a nice apartment, solid job, and are here in town most of the time. Those dudes can offer these girls what a girl wants; I can only offer skinny ass Andy Bones and all the endearingly-charming qualities that come along with him…minus the fat wallet or comfy bed.

Waking up alone and hungover from a night of drinking with the bros at a show or on the front porch—with a throat as dry and ratty as a burnt pack of American Spirits—can become a regular morning ritual. It gets hella old, but I’m a stir crazy kinda dude, and unless I got some serious creativity or a bad-ass woman keeping me home and happy, my hermit stints are bound to bust. This town drinks and I mean fucking drinks, like as if some cowboys found the well of salvation back in the day and its name was Lone Star Beer. I might not look it, and I say “might not”, but I’m 30 and the only evidence to me that I’m 30 is that my hangovers are debilitating and depressing. I’ll wake up and be like, ‘What the fuck am I doing? This band shit is for the birds. I want a job and a girl, and a fucking cool hound dog, too, maybe.’. This has been going on the whole ride through this band so far, and I can say that it really influences some songs about love, and women, and the want/need thereof. In all honesty, some lyrics and the motivation behind songs is just the internal disclaimer in my head: ‘Girl you are so sweet and fine, I guarantee you I’m gonna dodge from you coming in my room to see my humble broke setup of air mattress, computer and dirty clothes. I’m also gonna try to do anything fun and free, and we might go dutch all the time for right now. I know i suck babe, but I really like you, I bet more than that chump over there drooling’.

I’m not complaining at all about any of this. It just is, and it’s an influence. I’ve been doing a lot better as of late, so the next record might just be about sobriety and down pillows with a girl’s perfume on them. I hope.

—

Photo: Aaron Richter (Dee Dee in foreground, Frankie Rose on far left)

WOMEN BFF’S IN ROCK ‘N’ ROLL (DEE DEE PENNY/FRANKIE ROSE)
Both of our first singles (Dum Dum Girls‘ “Longhair” 7-inch, Woven Bones’ “With You Alone”) were part of the HoZac Hookup Klub in 2009; hers my favorite and ours hers. We traded E-mails and I would just be like, “Hey, I’m fucking serious, I will drop anything to help you get a band and do this live. All I wanna do is see it happen. I WILL PLAY WHATEVER.” She’d just say that she was working on it for the future and tell me how she had just DJ’d our singles at the local bar with her husband Brandon three times in a night. She’s been like a sister to me since that first communication—a huge inspiration and supporter.

This girl is solid gold. While her husband toured about 90-percent of 2009, and we just kept releasing singles, she sat at home and produced one of the most amazing albums in a very long time, all by herself. While critics don’t interpret it that way, it’s all hers. Dee Dee works harder than any other man I know, and her faith and confidence in what she does will outlive us all. She has been through some of the roughest things any human being can go through in the past two years with her head held high and never losing sight of what she was to be. She is a queen and a true honorary sister.

I met Frankie through Dee Dee, and I immediately knew why Dee Dee was so fond of her. The girl is a brick house—totally unfuckwithable. She has been the backbone of three of the greatest and most influential bands (Dum Dum Girls, Crystal Stilts, Vivian Girls) in world of modern rock we are all a part of these days. She has only left these bands for one core reason to my knowledge—she wants to do her own thing. She is not one to keep beating a dead horse or compromise her own values to keep on doing something. If she feels comfortable working a job and having steady money because that’s what she wants, and she can do her own thing on her own time and finally feel the pride of having her own, she does it. I’ve only been so broke myself and comprised comforts ’cause I’m still cheesing on living out my 12-year-old Kurt Kobain fantasy at 30. Frankie is the opposite; she has seen it all and does only what she sees fit for number one and her pack of gals. Did I say brick house?

—

Photo: Jason Fisher (Matty Nichols on far left)

MATTY NICHOLS
Matty is my best friend, and Woven Bones’ bassist. When I moved to Austin, we clicked right away. He’s believed in what I had planned ever since, no questions asked. He has seen me through some dark shit since this started and some great times as well, and his friendship has never wavered. We’ve been through five drummers in the past 1.5 years and it hasn’t held us up yet. He’s been there for every practice to get drummers ready and up to par. Even if it’s drill sergeant shit and we practice everyday because tour has already been booked and it’s 10 days away. He sticks it out.

Matty and I have learned how to play with each other in a way that is totally instinctive. We could do anything together and it’s something i hope never goes away. A direct influence of this friendship on the record was when we were finishing our final two songs, one of which we dropped off the final version. One of our best buds and brothers, Colin Ryan, played drums on the record, and he was going through some anxiety and rough shit. The engineer and I suggested that we do a couple more takes on the dropped song. Colin reached his breaking point with everything else he had on his mind, combined with the taxing floor/snare beats on multiple takes through the song, and he walked out of the studio to leave the session—two songs away from being done, on someone else’s time and someone else’s budget.

We called him…no answer. We drove around looking for him…no answer. I begged…no answer. Finally after an hour and a half, he just showed back up to get it done, out of his own conscience and brotherhood with us. Matty helped keep me cool the whole time. He was like, “Dude, how many times can we go through this and still let it fade us? Let’s chill.”

The song we recorded next was “Blind Conscience.” We did it in one take. It was a song I had dismissed as being too epic and drone-y, and Colin always stated how much he thought we should at least put it to tape. At this point, the lyrics weren’t finished, and I just freestyled the live scratch vocals about the situation that had just ensued, and how much I value my friends and what we do together through the fog, fuck-ups, anxiety, and bullshit. When I laid down the real vocals, I just listened to the scratch track, wrote it down and sang it better. That’s that song—done. Couldn’t have got through it without Matty, and of course, Colin.

“I’m the self-proclaimed black sheep, and I’m trying to do this Rock thing ’cause it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do”

MOM
My mother is a stone-cold southern Floridian Irish Catholic beast of a strong woman. My parents have lived no-frills, been hard asses on me, and done everything in life solely for me and my sister—completely selfless our whole lives.

I lost my mind to drugs in art school; my younger sister finished school and got a master’s degree. I haven’t had a real girlfriend since the one of four years got away; my sister is married to a firefighter and has a child, good job, house, etc.

I’m the self-proclaimed black sheep, and I’m trying to do this Rock thing ’cause it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. When I get down and I speak to my mom, she tells me that I shouldn’t do this if we aren’t making a good living. I’m always like, “Mom, I’m fine, I’m just fucking up in general and want to talk.” After she realizes I’m not ever quitting the band, she always reminds me of past shit I have been through, and that if I wanna do this, it’s all on me. I make my own bed, and that I’ve came through way worse before.

The song “I’ll Be Runnin” is all about mom. I’m a wimp.

THE FUTURE
We have been really lucky so far as a band, and I have had nothing but good luck with people reaching out and wanting to do stuff for Woven Bones since I recorded our first track and put it on the web. A lot of bands don’t get that lucky off the bat. About 85-percent of what Woven Bones has written/recorded has been released right after they were finished. It’s basically the cataloging via vinyl release of the whole progression of a band. We feel really lucky to do what we do and we enjoy it more than anything.

Coming back from tour in December 2009, we had to finish the full record we promised Todd and Brett at HoZac some eight months before. They were the Bones’ believers from day one and I promised Todd when we were in Chicago that we’d give him a record that spanned everything he originally dug about Woven Bones, to the stuff we have been doing as of late. (He originally wrote me when the Bones was pretty much my solo thing and sounded way different compared to today.) I pushed for things to keep getting more and more punk and driving, and Todd originally found me on some way more spacious psych shit. I was glad for us to have the length of an album ahead of us to write and record, so we could sum up everything we’ve been doing and give someone something of sufficient size to digest.

So the future is bad ass. We have a record we love and nothing but touring for it to look forward to, which we are super stoked on. It’s exciting to know we have this coming, and we wrote the record to fuel that. Today, I’m mostly spending the free time I have working on the next Woven Bones record and pushing the shit forward and not looking back. We’re not gonna make the same record twice, and we’re gonna fucking make every ounce of inspiration count. The ideas are flowing, and I can’t wait to start seeing the new material come to fruition. I’m always ADD. I’m trying to make that a good thing. We’ve got a lot of time to keep it coming, so the future is a huge inspiration.

Recording Under the Influence is a recurring self-titled feature where we ask artists to ignore their musical inspirations for a minute and share what really went into the making of a particular record. Ellen Allien keeps things simple in her guide to Dust, giving us a few clues as to how some of the album’s more polarizing moments—like the beat-flecked balladry of “Sun the Rain”—came about.

The BPitch Control boss also shares her love of long nights/mornings in Berlin, a place that’s helped her find love and Dust’s first single. Speaking of Allien’s longtime home, you can check out her city guide from our first issue here.

MOVING
During the past year, I had to move from one apartment to the other four times. First from my own apartment that had structural problems, then I had to leave two other two rental apartments. “Sun the Rain” emerged from this experience—in case of fire, one has to be patient and wait ’til the fire gets blown out and then, all of a sudden, everything is right again…

Photo: Michael Mann

AFTER HOURS AT BAR25
One day/night I stood at Bar25, a great after-hours club in Berlin right in front of Berlin’s Spree river. I already had been there for a good while—a way too long while—and I kept asking myself over and over again, “Should we go home?”…But I stayed another 10 hours instead.

LONGING
The longing for summer during the long and cold winter in Berlin. That is how “My Tree” came about—the dream of lying under a tree, counting the leaves as the sun comes and makes my eyes twinkle.

TOURING
When I am on tour, I collect lots of impressions, memories, noises, faces, landscapes…They give me energy and strong emotions that give me the urge to write, often in the form of a song.

LOVE
“Flashy Flashy” is about how I met my boyfriend at Panorama Bar in Berlin. I was completely drunk between flashing disco lights and echoes…Hehehe…

[Photo by Guy Eppel]

Recording Under the Influence is a recurring self-titled feature where we ask artists to ignore their musical inspirations for a minute and share what really went into the making of a particular record. Today’s installment is about Adam Green’s surprisingly sincere Minor Love LP; surprising because this guy used to sing songs like “Crackhouse Blues,” “Chock On a Cock,” “Bunnyranch” and “Mozzarella Swastikas.” Okay, those were his early solo efforts, but you know what we mean. This time around, the former Moldy Peach is channeling Transformer-era Lou Reed and his cheating girlfriend.

“I didn’t realize when I was recording my record that my girlfriend was cheating on me,” explains Green. “I called her almost every night, and after a while, I could tell that something was wrong. I think that her cheating on me caused my mood to be extra-gloomy while I was recording. That must affect how the record sounds. Thank god that she cheated on me.”

Thank god indeed. We also endorse all of the following outside influences. And if you’re in New York, be sure to check out Green’s Teen Tech art show, which is open to the public this Friday and Saturday at the Morrison Hotel Gallery Bowery. Green’s also headlining Bowery Ballroom shows both nights.

BUDDY BRADLEY
Buddy Bradley is a character from Peter Bagge’s comic book Hate. One time my friend said that I looked like Buddy Bradley. I was surprised when he said this because I had never heard anybody reference Buddy Bradley before. I wrote a song for my album called “Buddy Bradley” because I wanted to bring him to a wider attention so that everybody can enjoy Buddy Bradley as I have.

—

AGAINST NATURE
Against Nature is a French novel by Joris-Karl Huysmans. I read this book while we were recording. I kept on fantasizing about turning my apartment into a decadent playground where I could wait around to die. The house where I was recording was also very lonely when [producer] Noah [Georgeson] wasn’t around. I didn’t have a car and I would just sit in my room and smoke cigarettes. I started to become enamored with Huysman’s anti-hero Des Esseintes because he seemed so content to be alone.

—

INTELLIGENTSIA COFFEE
The coffee from Intelligentsia is really wonderful and it became something that I needed to have everyday. I hate the name of this place and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. I never felt like a bigger asshole then when I asked a guy on the street if he knew where “Intelligentsia” was. He obviously thought that I was a total schmuck. I like how it tastes though, so I will continue to buy it all the time.

—

MY LOU REED JACKET
I had a studded leather jacket made in NY that I brought to El Lay when I was recording. It was made to be a replica of Lou Reed’s jacket from the cover of Metal Machine Music. I wore it a lot when I was tracking vocals and I got way into that vibe when I was recording. Metal Machine Music is the worst album ever, but the cover is so great!

I want to make a black-metal record and a Christian record.

—

Recording Under the Influence is a recurring self-titled feature where we ask artists to ignore their musical inspirations for a minute and share what really went into the making of a particular record. In Ikonika’s case, we’re talking about much more than the 16-bit beats of her beloved Sega Mega Drive system, although they certainly played a part in her debut LP (Contact, Love, Want, Have, out now on Hyperdub) as well. For one thing, the post-dubstep producer is a Gemini.

“Some psychology friends of mine have told me that I don’t have a personality,” she explains. “Instead, I adapt to other people’s. So I can be confused sometimes—like today.”

Honestly, we can’t tell the difference. From our end of this trans-Atlantic call, Ikonika (real name: Sara Abdel-Hamid) is nothing but a film nerd who also happens to sculpt some of shiftiest beats in the business—restless productions that make perfect sense once you hear the stories and dream worlds behind them…

VIDEO GAMES
I started out with the first Nintendo. It was actually my sister’s. She used to be so protective of it, telling me to blow into the cartridges so I didn’t break it or anything. I used to enjoy the Simpsons game on that. It was really heavy, actually. I remember I never completed it because there’s this one level I kept getting stuck on. And since you couldn’t save the game, you had to start from the beginning and try to get to that level every time. I remember playing WWF on that, too. It was really basic—just the crowd and no ring. It had Hulk Hogan, Randy Savage and Bret the Hitman Hart on it.

I remember being intrigued by the music of Sonic the Hedgehog—that happy late ‘80s, early ‘90s sound. I used to love the sound effects it’d make when you collect the rings or get special powers.

Not being able to save your game is a lot like producing with a simple sampler. I remember Mala talking about how his one friend has an old-school sampler with a couple seconds of saving time. And he’s able to create albums with it, which is so insane. That’s part of why I never got an MPC. I tried it once, with my boyfriend’s MPC, and it just took forever. For me, that takes away the creative aspect of music, when you’re just sitting there, milling about. I like things to be kinda instant so I can get it out there as quickly as I can.

The one obvious game that influenced this album was Streets of Rage, which came out on the Megadrive. When I was writing, I listened to its soundtrack and thought, ’Some grime producers ought to jump on this!’ It has that timeless sound. You guys didn’t have the Mega Drive, did you? It was a rival to Super Nintendo that was cartridge based—big but flat. It was a nice machine, though.

I remember talking to Martyn about 16-bit stuff, because he has a younger brother who’s about the same age as me. He was like, “Oh, you’ve got to play Mortal Kombat with my brother.” When he wrote the song “Mega Drive Generation,” it was a homage to me, Joker, Darkstar…But yeah, if you have a PS3, you can check out the Sega Mega Drive Ultimate Collection, which has all of the classic games on it, including Sonic and Streets of Rage.

—

SURREAL/SCI-FI FILMS
I didn’t get into sci-fi films until my last year at university, when I was writing about postmodern cities and had to look at films like Blade Runner, Demolition Man, Back to the Future Part II, The Matrix. Around the same time, I also got into Hitchcock, Werner Herzog, and Luis Buñuel, a Spanish film director who was really into surrealism. He moved to France and met up with Salvador Dali. They made a film together called Un chien andalou, and since this was pre-censorship, they were free to do whatever they wanted to. He was really into dreams, insects, religion, sexual themes, and critiquing the bourgeois society.

Being from Spain, he was brought up in a very traditional Catholic family. His parents forced him to study engineering, but he just wanted to do art and films, so his films carry those themes. They’re pretty fucked-up.  He’s more about the subconscious, which is how I like my music. I never remember my melodies after I write them. Like I can’t play them on a keyboard. Something just happens to me—this dream world, in a way. It’s a bit of a blur, really.

Since I started off as a drummer, I never really had melody in me. I was always just improvising. I don’t read music, either. I have a mathematical approach to writing melodies. I tend to see numbers instead…I’ve never really wanted to make straight beats, either. I always found that a bit boring. It’s hard to make music that isn’t fatiguing, you know? I’m definitely happy that I can listen to my album and say, “I’m a fan of Ikonika.” Not in a narcissistic way, either—just “this is what I want to hear.”

—

THE COLOR RED/EVEN NUMBERS
To me, red is an even, round, soft color. But at the same time, it can contradict itself. I really like that idea of fusing wet and dry, hard and soft—all of those blatant [contrasts]. I don’t know. If red was a number, it’d be an even one. Me and [producer/Hyperdub owner] Kode9 have arguments about that. I like even numbers, and he likes odd ones, of course, what with the 9 in his name and all. He’s just like, “Well, it’s mysterious, sharp and edgy.” And I’m like, “Well no…” We’re just sp used to even numbers, to writing in 8ths and 16ths. It’s a natural beat we’re all used to, and familiar with, even before we’re born.

That’s why the album has 14 songs on it instead of 13 or 15. I get really worried when the catalog numbers are odd instead of even, too. Like “Millie” was Hyperdub 015 and that scared me, and the same with “Sahara Michael”—it was Hyperdub 029. So I was pretty happy that the album is Hyperdub CD004. While Steve would say being unsettled is the point, I don’t like it. [Laughs]

—

MILLIE THE CAT
When I was a child, I thought all cats were girls and all boys were dogs. So you’re either a cat or a dog. I’m a cat, and Millie’s a cat, so we’re all friends…I’ve had my cat six or seven years. She was originally my sister’s but she left home to get married and became mine. Her name was actually Billie before, because it means “cat” in Punjabi and all my sister’s friends are Indian. They’d yell, “Billie! Billie!” And it just stuck.

She’ll always lie down on the keyboard when I’m working. I think she really likes bass music, but who doesn’t? After all, when you’re in your mother’s womb that’s all you can hear.

—