Blonde Redhead have a new album out, called Misery Is a Butterfly. Its on 4AD, a new label following the bands departure from Touch and Go. As the title of the album might indicate, this band deals in multiple emotional terrains, usually simultaneously. Misery. Is a . . . Butterfly.
By now youve seen their photograph: Two handsome identical twin brothers, Amedeo and Simone Pace from Italy, framing a beautiful young woman from Kyoto, Kazu Makino. Thats Amedeo on guitar or bass and vocals; Simone is the drummer, an extraordinarily hard-rocking and idiosyncratic one (he plays keyboards, too); Kazu plays slanted and/or harsh and/or wrenchingly dramatized guitar shards, and sings in a breathy, not-so-guileless sigh or screeeeeeeeeems. But on record, at least, the screamings been put on the back burner for now. No call for screaming when you need to persuade.
Misery is a radiant thing beautiful, but in peculiar ways. In the context of the New Yorkbased bands past work, it feels like a leap headfirst into the baldly breathtaking, and thus somewhat of a departure. Past provocatively titled albums such as Fake Can Be Just As Good, La Mia Vita Violenta and In an Expression of the Inexpressible had their obvious roots in hardcore and the no-wave scene of downtown New York circa mid-80s (specifically the barbed-wire nihilism of DNA), combining a coolly intellectual yet jolting claustrophobia via angular rhythm slashing and crooked melodic/textural tendencies with a near-autistic urge toward minimalist-isolationist meditations. These elements merely poked their semi-ugly heads up on 2000s oddly romantic/cinematic (and best-selling) Melody of Certain Damaged Lemons and the follow-up Melodie Citronique EP, however, as Blonde Redhead gave hint that their partialities were broader and deeper and perhaps less so highly conceptualized.
The new album finds this formerly lonely and alienating music opening up like some kind of dark flower overflowing with a strangely sweet nectar; a dam has burst, exploding with new tone colors, new unidentifiable emotions. Whether because of Kazus alluring sighs or Amedeos nerdy whine, its an almost overwhelmingly touching sound, which had to have been a tricky proposition, since the band has never concerned itself with emotions as such. Misery comes a long four years after the bands last album, and reveals an evolution perhaps explainable by the trio (founded in the mid-90s) having of course grown older maturing; and there were a few events that put them on hold for a while, including Kazus serious injury from falling off a horse.
Last week I talked to Amedeo about the making of the album, and what the band were aiming for this time out. What was going through their minds when they prepared the material? Time for a change?
We dont put that kind of pressure on ourselves, he said. I think it would be difficult to live like that. Basically, we just kind of started writing, and then when it was time to record it, we really took care about details. We really wanted the music to come through. We worked on the record for a very long time; the problems that delayed the recording allowed us to really get deeply into it. We had more time to think about it, and develop the songs more. But I also feel like we didnt hold back on what we really wanted to do. Some of our earlier records were a little more careful, and maybe we still needed to go through certain things. On this record we just wanted the record to be honest and completely open.
Amedeo used the word honest in a hedging way, as if careful not to be misunderstood. I suggested that the band had a romanticism they needed to explore this music is opulent, widescreen, even as if they were previously reluctant to flirt with something so blatantly human. But romanticism is a tricky term, and I was rather simplistic about it.
Were always really cautious about being too emotional, said Amedeo. We dont want emotions to come through so much. Its almost like an addiction, you know, if youre too emotional in music. When you dont have it, then you really miss that. So what we tried to figure out is what we wanted for the songs to sound right, to have real emotional effect, and to spend time with that without feeling awkward in any way.
The bands now wide-ranging and open-ended sound owes its effect to some unusual compositional approaches deriving from a lot of improvising in their rehearsal studio while ripping off their own music in order to further develop it.
It happens when we play old songs, said Amedeo. We kind of grow out of the old songs, and we come up with new songs that [spin out of the old songs]. Like Falling Man on Misery is a result of Melody of Certain Three on the last album it happened as a reaction to that. Were unaware of whats going on usually when ideas come out; its usually pretty chaotic, everyone is playing something different, and then the ideas come out. One thing leads to another.
Miserys songs are constructed and enhanced in very unstandard-rock-type ways, a bit more complex in how the parts are put together, far more complex in their effect on the passions. I said the songs have opened up like flowers; one explanation for this is the confluent recent discovery by Blonde Redhead, the High Llamas, David Byrne (who generated the tracks for his new Grown Backwards album by humming into a microcassette recorder) and a few others that the tyranny of the groove building songs by piling parts on top of bass and drum tracks has led to a very restrictive harmonic/melodic palette from which to choose. On Misery, adding the bass and string parts last makes for a crucial liberating of tone color, as if the songs were shot with 100 percent pure human blood. And the album just sounds different for its stormily imaginative use of instrumental counterpoint (keyboards, guitars, drums and strings), which isnt too common in pop or rock music if in fact thats what Blonde Redhead is making.
The three of us spent a lot of time figuring out the forms of the songs before we went into the studio. For the strings, we spent two days working with a violin player and theres only one person who did everything [he multitracked his parts]. We didnt write down any charts; we had a computer there in our house, and we sang in what we like and we tried it, and then we added some other things to counter that part. We didnt have time to try different options; I think some stuff could have been better, but I think when you do something for the first time you tend to be really naive about it, which is good.
If you like this story, consider signing up for our email newsletters.
SHOW ME HOW
You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter(s) - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in!
The moral of the story is twofold: 1) In much great music, emotions are not the point, exactly at least not the ones were familiar with. And 2) musicians dont always know what theyre doing till theyve done it and theyre probably better off not knowing. Proof of this is the special intuitive bond that exists between Kazu Makino and the brothers Pace, which actually transforms the music they make together.
I react to them so much, especially to Kazu, when we work on melodies and harmonies, said Amedeo. We react to each other really, its strange, in ways that we dont even have any control over. I dont know what I would do, how any of us would do, without each other.
Blonde Redhead perform at the Henry Fonda Theater on Saturday, March 20.