The Magic Word : An interview with The Pleased

by Jay Belin


During one of their last New York performances, The Pleased delighted Mercury Lounge patrons with an emotive set of their sobering indie rock. The San Francisco based five-piece is far from a household name, but their DIY attitude and skillful songwriting will entice dreamers to seek out their record and join those in the know. We recently caught up with lead singe/guitar player Noah Georgeson who happily returned home after a national tour, but realizes his stay must be brief. Sugarzine: The Pleased recently wrapped up a tour with early 8T's dark new wave act, The Psychedelic Furs, have you seen a difference in crowds from what you are accustomed to? Noah Georgeson: It seems that every crowd for whom we perform is different from the previous one. We've played with bands that have such wildly divergent audiences that it's hard to say what demographic features "our audience has -- we played to a sea of young gothic kids when we supported Placebo, and we played to a crowd of real-deal old Haight Street hippies when we supported Love. It's nice to see faces in various stages of youth and decline.

SZ: What other artists that your band has shared the stage with really impressed you? NG: Arthur Lee from Love is a living monument. He's amazing, and he's such a huge figure in the history of modern popular music, though a lot of people don't seem to know it anymore. Forever Changes is possibly the best rock record ever, and we got to play with the mastermind behind that record. It was exciting.

SZ: At what point did you decide that your life would revolve around the creation of music? NG: That moment is lost somewhere in the fog of early high school. It seemed like a sensible thing to pursue at the time, and by the time I realized that it was not, in fact, very sensible at all, it was too late.

SZ: I've read that you were surrounded by music as a child. Did that facilitate your desire to pursue a Master's Degree? NG: I knew fairly early that I wanted to pursue two entirely different paths in music - the study of music composition and practice in an academic setting appealed to the part of me that wanted to sit in a dark room with a pen (or a mouse) making meticulous spaces with sound, and rock music satisfied my desire to perform.

SZ: You studied under famed minimalist composer Terry Riley. Have you presented him with any of The Pleased records? What was his reaction? NG: Terry, more than a teacher, was someone I would hang out with from time to time. His son Gyan and I played classical guitar together at their house, and I would get to hear Terry improvising on the piano. I don't think I fully realized at the time how important he is, which is probably good, because I would likely have been intimidated had I known. He helped me get into grad school where I got to study with other amazing people like Fred Frith, Pauline Oliveros, and Alvin Curran. I've been lucky. I don't know if any of my teachers have heard The Pleased, but they are all very aware of pop and rock music, so I think they would approve. Oh, and I was in a punk band with Terry's other son Shahn as well.

SZ: Has your degree in composition and your study of classical music manifested itself in your song writing for The Pleased? NG: It is apparent probably less in the songwriting than in the sonic properties of each song, especially in recordings. My studies have taught me, more than anything, to listen for detail and to find a place for every little sound Š they are all important. I probably obsess over minutia that very few people who ever listen to the record will ever notice or care about, but I can't help it. Everyone else in the band is pretty much the same way, actually- we're persnickety bastards.

SZ: Is there a typical formula for the band's songs? Who does the bulk of the lyrical duties and composing? NG: We all write the songs - it is all a very democratic affair. It's very rare that anyone will bring an entire, finished song to the rest of the band, and anyone who tries to tell someone else what to play gets quickly frustrated. As for the lyrics, with one or two small exceptions, if I sing them I've written them. Lyrics are very important to me, and I find that most rock lyrics are truly vapid. Even the ones that you can tell are trying to be substantive usually lack any remote sense of subtlety. I don't think that I'm a real poet or writer or anything, but I think it's important to try.

SZ: Besides your formal background in music, what other sources/bands do you pull your inspiration/influence from? NG: There are too many good things. My favorite rock bands right now are Love and Suede, and they have been for a while. Others in the band have pretty wide tastes -- Rich loves loves Roxy Music and Stereolab, Genaro loves the Beach Boys, Luckey likes the Grateful Dead Š we're kind of all over the place, but our tastes intersect in certain places. Lately we have tended to listen to a lot of folk music - new stuff like our friends Devendra Banhart and this band Vetiver, but old stuff too like Donovan, Bert Jansch, Marc Bolan and of course Nick Drake. Karen Dalton, Caetono Veloso, Vashti Bunyan too. Good stuff, all of it (thanks to Devendra for turning me on to it). I produced Joanna Newsom's new record as well, which you all should listen to.

SZ: What is the origin of the band? Did you meet at University? NG: Rich and I once rented a house in London for a few weeks with the intention of writing music, but we were distracted by Indian food, and never recorded anything. So when he moved to the U.S., we decided to try again.

SZ: Did you or your band mates play in other bands before becoming The Pleased? NG: We've all been in various bands, but nothing that would have ever been noticed by anyone, really. I was in a band called True Lipstick, and I actually think we were pretty good, looking back on it. Real glam kind of stuff. Oh, Luckey was in a marching band.

SZ: The band started playing under the moniker The Please. Why the change of name? NG: We were sued by a band called Please who hadn't played live in years. I shall take this opportunity to thank them, because I like the name better now.

SZ: Is Joanna no longer part of the line up? Can you discuss her break from the band? NG: Joanna is doing amazingly well. Her record is incredible, and it is being recognized as such. She still plays with us sometimes, and, as she is my lady, I get to see her when we aren't both on tours.

SZ: My first encounter with the band was in a Face article back in 2002. The following day I searched KimÕs and Other Music (NYC record stores) for any sort of recording, but came up empty handed. Eventually I ordered Never Complete from your web site. Were you aware that kids were seeking your band out with this kind of underground excitement? NG: Fervor is appreciated and encouraged. It's exciting to have to find stuff on your own rather than having Steve Sony and Clear Channel ram it down your throat, isn't it?

SZ: After releasing two records on your own, you decided to officially release Don't Make Things in late 2003 on Big Wheel Recreation (www.bigwheelrec.com). How did the relationship with the label start? NG: It's not much of a grand story I'm afraid. They saw us, they liked us, and they said they would put out the record and we could do whatever we wanted, so we did. The things we had released before weren't records, they were glorified demos, really. Don't Make Things is the only statement we've made that we stand by as a complete recording.

SZ: How many records did you sign for? NG: It's a 23 record deal -- it's really good for us, I think.

SZ: Are you happy with the decision to go with Big Wheel? NG: Yes. They let us do what we want, and they give us money to make videos and play music. The fact that someone gives us money to play music is incredible to me. I had become used to doing things for free, I suppose.

SZ: I've read that you produced the record. Do you plan to continue playing that role? NG: Yes, I want to continue producing our stuff. I don't think that we could give up the control to someone outside the band. If we could corral an Ed Buller (Suede, Pulp), a Steve Lillywhite (Brian Eno), or a Chris Thomas (The Pretenders, Roxy Music) to help me, I wouldn't object, however.

SZ: San Francisco hasn't been very conducive to rock music the past few years. Have you noticed a broadening of the scene since you began playing? NG: San Francisco is a funny place at the moment, and we don't quite fit in here. All of the rock music coming from here right now is really raw and gritty, which isn't really what we're doing. SF is now over thirty years removed from the glory of the late sixties, and it is well past time for a resurrection. People here get caught up in what's going on back east, but we need to get over it and forge our own thing like people did back then. The sun is slowly breaking through however, and the vibe is beginning to shift. The planets have aligned and the crystals are singing, and all that.

SZ: At your early April Mercury Lounge show, you looked like Chris Robinson after watching Oliver Stones biopic The Doors. How would you characterize your personal style? NG: Natural fibers and baroque ornamentation.

SZ: The Pleased are dripping with cool. Hell, your bass player claims to be Luckey Remington! NG: It's his honest to God real given name. People in Oregon do funny things. Actually his great-grandfatherÕs name was Luckey as well. We each have our own thing going on.

SZ: What is the most ridiculous "rock star" moment The Pleased has encountered? NG: The Darkness DJ'd our CD release party in SF, and they are ridiculous rock stars. As for us, we tend to flee from any situation that has any hint of rock starishness to it. Drugs refused, propositions turned down, hotel rooms left clean and intact. When we stay with someone, the only trace of our having passed through is a half used container of soy milk in their fridge.

SZ: Do The Pleased have summer vacation plans? What do you hope the future holds for your band? NG: We will likely run around the country a bit more and then repair to our mountain home and record a new record or two. I'm against any form of vacation right now - time's awastin'.

SZ: And finally, choose one: Sex, Drugs or Rock n' Roll? Why? NG: Everything in moderation, especially Rock n' Roll.


 

 

Plea for Peace: Bringing Diversity to NYC

by Jennifer Brown

Just as similarity breeds conformity, variety breeds great diversity. This need for diversity is the driving force behind this yearÕs Plea for Peace tour. Playing three evenings at New York CityÕs famed Bowery Ballroom, this yearÕs extremely varied line-up included hardcore rock trio, Decahedron, singer/songwriter (and tour organizer) Mike Park, death-metal thrashers Darkest Hour, and finally, the Omaha-based indie rockers Cursive.

First up, straight out of Washington, DC and fresh onto the Northeastern leg of the tour was Decahedron. Once this post-hardcore trio began to reverberate their angst through the Bowery, one couldnÕt help but sit up and take notice. The combination of Shelby Cinca vehemently emotional lyrics and musical dynamic of members Jonathan Ford and Jason Hamacher, could be likened to early Fugazi, or more recently "scr-emo" band, Thursday. With each song, Decahedron invited the audience further and further into their private world, tempting them to share in their pain, anxiety, and joy.

As if running Asian Man records and aiding in the promotion of Plea for Peace doesnÕt keep Mike Park busy enough, he has also managed to find the time to record a solo album. Park preformed an assortment of songs from his recently released debut solo album, For the Love of Music. He also treated the audience to vintage hits from his time as a member of West Coast ska bands SkankinÕ Pickle and the B. Lee Band. With only his acoustic guitar and voice, Park was able transform the audienceÕs energy level. By incorporating humor into his set, including former SkankinÕ Pickle favorite, IÕm In Love With a Girl Name Spike [as in from Degrassi Jr. High] and B. Lee Band gem Mr. Hanalei [a.k.a the Brady BunchÕs Hawaiian vacation], he was able to keep the mood very light.

However, while the crowd may have been in a jovial mood, Park kept his eye on the ball. He was able to convey his message of peace through acceptance with the ease of a subliminally placed can of Pepsi in the summer blockbuster. Mike Park may have just been the calm before the storm. At the complete opposite end of the musical spectrum was thrash metal band, the Darkest Hour. Within a matter of seconds of taking the stage a pit the width of the Bowery Ballroom opened, creating an ideal arena for energy release. With their unique combination of hardcore, punk and metal, the Darkest Hour was able to help unleashing tidal wave of raw emotion that seemed to have been building all evening.

Coming down from their experiences with the Darkest Hour, the audience eagerly awaited indie golden children, Cursive. The melodic sounds of front man, Tim KashnerÕs organ harmonized exceptionally well with band mates, Matt Maginn, Clint Schnase, Ted Stevens, and Gretta CohnÕs dynamic edginess. Cellist Cohn exceptional performance added even more depth and tonicity to KashnerÕs cathartic lyrics. Showcasing an eclectic mix of material from their 2003 concept album, The Ugly Organ, including such favorites as Sierra, Art is Hard, and Driftwood: A Fairytale, with vintage classics such as The Martyr, Cursive shared their ability to convey emotional heartache and personal conflict with their fans.

What began five years ago as an organization primarily devoted to promoting "the ideas of peace through the power of music," Plea for Peace, has taken on new meaning in this election year. Performers spent their time on stage harboring the audienceÕs musical fantasies, but also to impressing upon them the importance of participating in the democratic process.

For more information on the Plea for Peace organization, please visit www.pleaforpeace.com.


 

Exit 8: Bringing the 80's Back?

by Jennifer Brown

Apparently, the 80’s are back—and I’m just as excited as the next VH1 I love the 80’s junkie; however, there are some things about the 80’s that are best left to the original. I welcome the return of Pac-Man, Strawberry Shortcake, and the Cabbage Patch Dolls. Bring back slap-bracelets, jellies, and G.I. Joe!! And should Miramax answer my prayers and produce a full-length feature film staring the original pastel pop princesses, Jem and the Holograms—well, one can dare to dream.
The 1980’s was an incredible time for music, great bands like The Smith’s, The Violent Femmes, and The Clash broke boundaries and brought new sounds to a generation of anxious youth. These musicians, as well as countless others have inspired and influenced innumerable artists over the past 20 years. However, the 80’s produced its fair share of frightful sights and sounds, the mullet, Lycra, and the "hard rock ballad." Warrant, Poison, White Snake, the list is endless. The question I pose today, why would a band trying to carve a niche for itself chose to take their music cues from the fore mentioned? Have we become so obsessed with regressing to our childhood and teenage years that we are bringing back the less desirable aspects in order to remember the "good old days?"
Case in point, local NYC band, Exit 8. Talented—absolutely; misleading—somewhat. As a music journalist in New York City, I feel it is my responsibility to provide exposure to a variety of musical genres. When choosing this particular review, I based my selection on a description found on the Sin-E venue website (www.sin-e.com). Assuming this description had been provided by the publicist or booking agent of Exit-8, I prepared for evening filled with a blend of 80’s "pop-punk," (And all this time, I’d thought Good Charlotte and Simple Plan owned the rights to that categorization.) and 90’s "post-punk alternative." Eager to hear what a blend of post-punk and pop-punk might sound like, I arrived early. Much to my dismay, I several songs into the set, I realized, I’d heard this concoction of musical stylings before—when I was in Junior High and loving Bon Jovi.
True, Mark Stancato’s eclectic style and smooth vocals did mix beautifully with his amplified acoustic guitar, but did little for the overall depth of the band’s sound. Thankfully, Duke (yup, just Duke) was there on the lead guitar to add a bit of dimension to this otherwise mediocre set. Bassist Richard Abbondante also added entertaining stage presence, unfortunately, little else. Throughout the evening I found myself desperately fighting the urge to run home and feather my hair and throw on my fringed jacket as their unified sound so strongly resembled those dreaded hard rock ballads of yesteryear. Individually, I believe each of these musicians posses immense talent; Stancato’s songwriting skills are superlative, speaking on a level where he is able to connect with his audience. Sadly, musically speaking, their current joint venture seems to have them headed down the darkened path leading to the musical elements of the 80’s we would rather see remain in the past.