Interviews
Small Talk Isolated and Destroyed: NOMEANSNO Interview #3
by Felix Thursday
This is my third interview with Rob Wright, the bassist and
singer of Nomeansno. Nomeansno is actually the first band I ever
interviewed (in addition to being the first punk band I saw live). In
the past we have talked about almost nothing pertaining to
music--instead discussing hockey or philosophy. There is no other band
I enjoy conversing with as much. They have always been humble,
humorous and thought-provoking, and I have always found that they have
something new and interesting to say.
This interview was a little different than interviews past. Only
Rob was able to be present and he openly admitted that he was not much
in the mood for an interview (evidently tired from touring). I tried
to cheer him up with talk about hockey, but that failed since his
favorite team has just lost one of their star players and were in
peril of not making the playoffs. Almost as soon as the interview
began, however, his mood seemed to lift. For the first time we
discussed music. Their latest album One had just been released on
Alternative Tentacles (featuring covers of the Ramones 'Beat On The
Brat' and Miles Davis' 'Bitches Brew', alongside new Nomeansno
material which, as always, pushes the musical envelope of punk and
beyond.
What inspired you to write lyrics to "Bitches Brew"?
Rob: Oh, pure gall. I didn't have the courage to credit myself, you'll
notice that. I was just listening to a lot of jazz. I hadn't listened
to those sessions in years, but I got the Bitches Brew CD and it
sounded as good as it did when I first heard it. I've got better ears
now, I guess. I'm just listening better. It was such a simple riff. I
mean, the song really--if you take away the solos--is basically just
an intro, a re-intro, and a riff. That's it for 23 minutes. I just
started playing around with it and I thought it would be fun to write
some lyrics for it. It sort of wrote itself, because there's a mood in
the song and the riff that lent itself to our film-noir sort of story.
It doesn't seem like something that would go over too well with
today's "alternative" or punk audiences.
Rob: No, no. We're thinking of calling our next album Commercial Suicide.
At the same time, though, look--you've sold this show out. Bands on
major labels have come through here and not done as well.
Rob: Well, we have a small, dedicated following that puts up with our
little musical escapades. But, you're right. I looked at our last
record after we'd done it and said "I really like it, but I just don't
know how many people will get into it." But I think that's what people
expect from us after all these years--is to do things that aren't
exactly the same all of the time. You've just got to do what you want
to do and hope people like it. If they do, great. If they don't,
well...it would be silly and impossible for us to write pop music at
this point. Even pop music in a sense of what punk rockers might want
to hear. I'm not interested in doing that anyway. I just want to make
music that I want to hear, and hope other people will feel the same
way about it.
Not only do you do a Miles Davis cover, you also do a song by the
Ramones on this album--back to back, no less.
Rob: Those are the boundaries we're trying to fill. You're a sponge
for everything. Everything you see and her makes an impression on you
and those impressions are what filter what comes out of you as well.
We're less concerned now with being a certain kind of band or playing
a certain kind of music. We were never that concerned about it.
Instead of thinking "Maybe we should play something the kids
like...what do the kids like these days? Let's listen to something and
write something like that." That would be horrible. It would be
stupid. I don't listen to any punk, I listen to mostly '60s jazz. And
when I write music, all I'm thinking about is what's coming out. I'm
less and less concerned with what's "hip" or what's expected of our
band--or any band.
There are certain bands that you've obviously influenced--like Primus,
who went in a more commercial direction, or at least had more
commercial success. Are you at all envious?
Rob: I don't know. We did play with them early on. We play with them
once at a rented hall in Santa Rosa. They were the first band on the
bill. It was us, The Beatnigs, Victim's Family, and Primus opened. It
was a great show. We ended up making only about $150 because it cost
them so much to rent the hall and pay for security. I don't even know
if Primus got paid.
Victim's Family went on to be on Alternative Tentacles, eventually. I
remember A.T. being the label. They had the False Prophets, Alice
Donut, The Beatnigs, and you guys, of course...just all these
wonderfully strange and demented bands who were so different from each
other, but at the same time, it all fit together. Now, not just with
Alternative Tentacles but with music in general, everything seems so
fucking formulaic.
Rob: Yeah, well that's what happens when things start making money.
That's the kiss of death. In the days when we started out, we had no
idea of having a career or making a living or anything like that. It
was just "Can we get a gig? Can we go somewhere and play? Can we do a
tour?" The commercial aspect of punk was nonexistent. There were no
A&R people coming out to sign you to a contract. We didn't even think
about it. As soon as it got to the point where that was starting to
happen, everyone started thinking about not playing what they wanted
to and doing what they wanted to do. Instead, they started thinking:
"I could make a fucking million dollars if my hair was right and I had
the right tattoos," and the music began to be written with that in
mind rather than what's in you. I used to tell people who were
starting bands and asked me what they should do not to sound anything
like us. Do something else. Play country, whatever. Because the only
value is the originality. It's not re-doing what you've heard. Now
people aren't copying other bands, they're copying off a whole
sound--an industry prerequisite to what might sell.
So how are you guys taken care of financially? Has music paid your way
to at least some extent?
Rob: We've been incredibly lucky. We found an audience, we kept the
audience and we've worked doing things at our level and under our
control in a way that we can make a living doing it. I'm not living in
a big house like the guy in Primus is, but we never expected to do
that. The one thing I love about Primus is that they are a band that
plays that kind of music and they did make a huge killing out of it. I
don't know how that happened. It's the novelty tunes, I guess. They're
geniuses at writing one novelty tune on every record and a cute video
that just puts it over the top. But the rest of their stuff is just
off-the-wall bizarro shit. It's great--I've got to hand it to them.
They did a great job. If they've made a million bucks, more power to
'em. I have nothing against the guys in Green Day, either. I like
their music and I like their new single. I thought it sounded great.
Unfortunately, the bad part is everyone just looking to be famous and
big and millionaires like Green Day instead of what Green Day was
originally doing--which was playing the music they loved. You just
can't get away from that. As soon as the money gets in there, it
changes everything. It's inevitable. And No Doubt as well. I have
nothing against them. But the effect they've had on alternative music
and the creative aspect was negative because it just turned everything
into a big money-making machine instead of a music-making machine. If
it's not about the music on this level for bands like us, this what's
it about? Nothing. Stupid shit is what it is. And there's a lot of
that out there today.
The last time I interviewed you guys, you had just put out The
Worldhood of the World (As Such), which was a blatant reference to
Martin Heidegger's Being and Time. It seems that sometimes you're
deliberately trying to make yourselves obscure--especially to punk
rock kids who somehow manage to become dumber the more they multiply.
Rob: I don't think they're dumber, they're just ignorant--and that's
why I like to do that. I didn't start playing music until I was in my
mid-twenties. I was never writing from the perspective of a teenager.
I didn't start writing songs until I was well past that stage. I think
it's great that a bunch of 16 and 18 year-old kids are listening to
some guy who's more than twice their age screaming about what he's
concerned about, and what his perspective is, instead of just the
perspective they get from all of their friends around them--which is
basically just their own. I think that's great that they come out and
listen, and I hop that they get something out of it. That's what it's
all about. It's not about the sameness or the simple-mindedness of it,
it's about the diversity of it. That's what the original punk rock was
about. To throw in Heidegger and Miles Davis when the kids are
expecting Green Day or whatever--or want to hear Wrong again--that's
good. I don't think what we do is over anyone's head. If you have that
attitude, then you're just talking down to people. You've got to
expect them to lift their eyes up and try to get where you're coming
from if they're willing to make an effort--which most of them are
smart enough to do, I think, but they never get the
opportunity--great. If they don't want to, fuck 'em.
This interview appeared in section M magazine, Issue #21, July 2001.
As I was typing this, I got kind of sentimental. The things Rob had to
say help me to remember why I got into punk in the first place--and
why I hate it now. And, I guess, why I'm doing this here website. The
next time some of you (who probably didn't even read this) want to
debase punk as mindless, recall this interview! Aw fuck, I'm talking
to nobody, huh?
