The Heroes are Horses + full interview
by CLARK WOODHAM WILLIAMS

 

The Heroes are Horses - full interview
by CLARK WILLIAMS

Q #1: One of the most noticeably different aspects of old recordings from the 20s and 30s is the vocal style is much louder, because these people weren’t used to singing through microphones and amplification. As microphones became popular, singing styles changed—for example, Bessie Smith yowled and Billie Holiday purred. The Heroes are Horses’ vocals are very light, blending with the mellowness of the music. It seems that with old-style, pre-microphone vocals a giant breach would be made in your sound which would completely alter the totality of the Heroes are Horses. Can you imagine what playing without any sort of amplification and be forced to throw the voice out a la Hank Williams or Jimmy Rodgers, would do to your sound?

Mark: regards to our vocal sound, I have a hard time belting out sound. To be honest, I am always self conscious about my voice, so I usually hold back a bit. I like the idea of letting the music as a whole blend together to create an overall mood. I do not like the idea of letting one instrument, whether it is the guitar or the vocals, to override one another. It is a collective energy that allows the music to take on its own entity.

Jim: Prior to microphones, singers had to be powerful to be heard – whether at a barn dance or at the opera. Early recordings were made to a single horn and later a single mic so balance was achieved by placing people relative to the pickup. The vocals are often loud because they were closest to the horn and because of the performance the artist was used to delivering. While Mark and Ryan are both powerful singers, we are not subject to that restriction in our recordings. We usually don’t use amplification in practice, except for Buddy. So it’s easy to imagine our sound without amplification… in rehearsal it’s usually a more direct sound with less subtlety. With the recordings, we are able to do things our predecessors were not able to… we are able to take time to make sure the little things come across.

Ryan’s: That’s an interesting thought. I myself have been a tentative singer. It’s strange, though, because most of the songs I write are pretty lyrical. The music itself simply acts as a vehicle for lyrical delivery. It’s easy for the vocals to be swallowed up by the music. But I think the nature of HAH vocals blends with the music in a way that is distinctly ours.
Buddie: I find myself questioning the validity of this question in that HAH wouldn’t exist pre-amplification. Music is always a product of the time. Our music would be unique regardless of technical limitations.
Bob: I’d love for any audience to hear a Sunday afternoon rehearsal/recording session – and be right in the middle of the sound – I’ve never in my life been as drunk as Hank Williams (Sr. or Jr.) – but there are times Ryan purrs a little.


Q #2: The song “Coos Bay“ is a guitar/found sound collage in the tradition of John Fahey. For some reason the overlaying of found sound or electronic noise and acoustic guitar creates a powerful tension that makes me feel dread and sadness. One idea I have is that it might be a musical illustration of the clash between city and country, the industrialization that brought people out of traditional lifestyles and placed them in the alien environment of the city. In another sense, though, that particular mixture of sounds is simply beautiful and queerly natural. How would you explain the effect of this mixture?


Mark: Coos Bay is a great example of what I like most about our music. In 3 is another song in the similar vein. It is truly about communication and collaboration. Actively listening to, in all honesty, what is a very simple guitar structure that needs the support of everyone else’s sensibilities to allow the idea to take root. Initially, when Jim and I started the Heroes are Horses, I wanted to avoid the typical singer songwriter approach. Folk style music is what I am most comfortable playing, but I did not want to emulate, or regurgitate what had already been done. That is why we began working with Kenny Burnap who introduced found sounds and unusual frequencies into the mix. Now we are fortunate to be joined by Mark Trovillion of Lambchop who is now in charge of electronics. To me, this completely alters our sound and frees us from the predictable constructs of traditional music.

Jim: Coos Bay was the first song Mark ever played for me and it used to be the first song in our set every show. At the time we were doing a group called Say X-Ray Feelings with Kenny Burnap, John Ringhofer (Half-Handed Cloud), Alexis Hopper, Seth Raines and Eric and Brandon Buckner (from Title One). This was kind of a super group for Chattanooga music made up of a classically trained pianist and a bunch of math rock and folk people put together by Kenny for one show and to make people from different groups and backgrounds work together. On a break, Mark asked me to play upright on some songs and played me that one – it just felt really natural to play it. Kenny used to play a video of his Dad and his wife showing him their place in Coos Bay, OR – the spoken parts are from that tape. So it does play up city vs. country but it’s not what we set out to do, especially now… Maybe it would be more accurate to speak of contrasting contemporary vs. traditional rather than city vs. country. When we write it really just seems to happen – Mark or Ryan come in with a song and everybody basically has their parts within a couple of runs-through.

Ryan: It is a very strange feeling that this combination creates. It is almost as if there is some sort of hidden message to be discovered in one or the other. In Coos Bay, for example, the music seems to attach some sort of meaning to the noise in the background. The music is soft and lulling, it is what sticks with you when the song is over. And yet there is this chaos, going in and out of clarity behind it, and you can’t be sure what it means. It’s like trying to remember a dream.

Buddie: we’re living in a world with little “true silence” any more. The clash between noise and music can hum or roar.

Bob: I didn’t play on “Coos Bay” and I plan on never letting Jim forget it.


Q #3: To restate that question, being that perhaps the most remarkable feature of your sound is a mixture of traditional instruments with modern technology, do you see your music as enacting the tension between city and country? Do you feel like a city band that uses country elements, or a country band that uses city elements, not only in instrumentation but technique, arrangement, lyric?

Mark: I have lived both in the city and the country, perhaps that has some bearing on how I write. But I do not want to label our music as either. To me it is a continuation of traditional song writing and combining it with a sense of what is now. During the Renaissance it was the camera obscura that allowed these artists to fully render and translate the visible world onto their canvases. It was technology that changed their course. Technology is a tool that will always impact any creative endeavor. Would Woody Guthrie have played with a keyboardist if one were available, I have no idea and his work certainly does not need it. But the truth is, traditional music in the realm of Fahey and Guthrie is perfect in so many ways. How can we build upon that? I suppose through incorporating a different approach to song writing, which is why we utilize electronics and found sound. That was perhaps a long-winded response to simply say, we are probably a blend of both country and city, if you want to create such a dichotomy, and that is done by being aware of combining electronics with acoustic sensibilities – combining tradition with elements of the contemporary.

Jim: To say we’re a country band would be as misrepresentative as to say we’re a city band. We are a band of singer songwriters and gentlemen who like to play together. There is no ego in this group which I think immediately takes us out of the city category… but we’re probably too socially aware to be country. Again, maybe it’s better to speak of traditional vs. contemporary.

Ryan: I think that’s a good way to describe it. Tension between city and country. There is a lot of that tension in Chattanooga itself. It’s not quite city, it’s not quite country. But it is country and it is city at the same time. I view Heroes are Horses as a bridge between the two. It doesn’t seem like it would work, but it does. I think that’s because country music of the old style has such a ghostly quality about it. It is familiar, yet otherworldly at the same time. It’s the same with electronic music. It makes sense musically, but there is an element mystery in the sound.


Q #4: Who would you be as a band if TVA never happened? What kind of instruments do you think you’d play?


Mark: I would still be playing guitar. My father played folk music and I play his old Gibson. Originally I wanted to learn to play the drums when I was 13. But when my parents saw how much a kit was, they handed me my fathers old Gibson and said, how about guitar lessons instead? In regards to TVA, there would be no Heroes are Horses. I doubt my parents would have traveled south to a soggy Chattanooga.
Jim: That’s a broad question… my mother’s family would have never settled here - my father’s grandfather would have never moved his family here… I would not exist. We would probably play the same instruments if we existed and lived here at all… but we would be able to live at a lower altitude without the dam and we’d probably have rowboats.

Buddie: I’d play a glass harmonica while distilling corn liquor.
Ryan: We would be a riverboat band. We would be playing the same instruments, but we’d be playing them on riverboats. And we’d be women.

Bob: We’d all be rich from waterfront land – fishing all day and chewing on hickory twigs.


Q# 5: The Heroes are Horses’ arrangements and atmosphere evoke wide, windy, sparsely populated landscapes or ghost towns, but the lyrics are most often about personal relationships, spoken from an “I” to a “you”. Of course you generally sing about broken or distant relationships, which gives an image of the singer surveying a vast expanse that mirrors a vast expanse within. Do you see the voice in your music as the head of the arrangement, or an equal part of it? Is the voice finding its way through the instruments, or are all the instruments contributing to the unified vision of the lyric?


Mark: To me, the written language is the most difficult language to manipulate when communicating a thought or a concept. I think for one reason, it tends to be rather concrete. I never write lyrics first. I tend to play a song over and over improvising the lyrics along the way until they begin to make sense and seem to fit with the general feeling of the song – the songs just progress organically. More often than not, it usually ends up as a first person narrative. I really would like to break that habit.

Jim: The instruments always support the vocal. Our tecording process is to get the basics of the song recorded and then overdub. On the earlier songs it was basically me and buddy doing the overdubs after Mark recorded his part (he was living in Chapel Hill at the time). Since there was no way for him to change what he had done I felt it was my job to make sure everything made him sound as good as possible.

Buddie: there’s no plan.

Bob: I’ve really just read the lyrics after recording the record, but there have been many times I’ve been moved to tears without knowing what Mark / Ryan were even singing.


Q# 6: What kind of music did you listen to as little kids? Kid music, like Alvin and the Chipmunks, classic stuff like the Beatles? Did you ever write songs or try to play music back then?


Mark: I was in second grade when I can first remember getting into music and the first three albums I truly remember falling in love with and listening to on a regular basis were ABBA’s The Album, ELO’s Time and the Beatles’s Revolver. I have know idea how this relates to our music, other than ELO’s Time had a lot of really great ambient space pieces on it. I also really got into Asia because I thought their album art kicked ass. I quickly outgrew that phase. I really did not start writing until I was 13 and at that point I was really only writing generic and awkward teenage angst-ridden rock. At some point I got into world and ambient music and was introduced to the music of Tom Waits. It proved to be a pretty lethal concoction of sound. It was around 18 that I really began experimenting with unusual song structures and improvisation that eventually culminated into what I am doing now.

Jim: As a kid… Alvin and the Chipmunks, the Footloose soundtrack, a Montovani record my parents had, Mr. Rogers (especially his musical guests), Lawrence Welk, Hee Haw and Solid Gold were weekly staples in the house.

Ryan: Actually my first CD was Abbey Road. However, before CD’s came out I listened to a lot of the stuff my parents listened to, and Wilson Phillips. Even earlier than that I listened to a lot of Disney-themed tapes. Cowboy Mickey was one of my favorites. I used to listen to that one on the rocking horse.

Buddie: My mom always had the radio on. I got a lot of Stax and bad pop. My first record was Ranger Andy. My biggest influence was soundtracks from films we watched in elementary school.

Bob: Playing Simon (the smart Chipmunk) in a church play was my intro into show biddness. I had lines and dance moves and it’s been uphill ever since.


Q# 7: Do have any affection for current top-40 music? Disdain?


Mark: I like anything that has integrity and honesty. With that in mind, there is little within the context of top-40 that I have really been moved by. However, from time to time I can appreciate a well produced pop song ala Beyonce or Kanye West. I probably just lost a couple of indie points on that one.

Jim: I like Outkast, but for the most part top 40 has fallen into a shit-hole. I miss the idea of the local radio / regional sound. With clearchannel the country has been watered down by what a select group deems “the” sound. This of course makes it harder for people to break through to a larger audience and, ultimately robs the larger audience of the chance to hear all these smaller sounds. For instance, Wild Thing would never make it today. Neither would Patsy Cline, Hank Williams, Roy Orbison, Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Bob Dylan. Think of the void our Generation faces as they age. The older artists have all been able to contribute musically for their entire lives. Outkast is exciting for that reason. Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera… parlour trash. As soon as their looks fade, they’ll be gone and what are their fans and the whole musical audience left with?

Ryan: I guess I just don’t have an opinion. I don’t listen to any of it. I can tell you this: I have danced to “I’m bringin’ sexy back”, but I didn’t know it until it was over.

Buddie: My nine year old tells me what to listen to.

Bob: Top 40 is a wonderful compost heap – just stay clear – and somebody will pop up. Songwriters all over the world would love to know what Ryan and Mark eat for breakfast. These guys are just that good – and they don’t even know it.

 


Q# 8: Do you think your music would appeal to people who don’t come from North America or Europe? For example, nomadic Mongolians? African Bushmen? In other words, how localized is your music?


Mark: I doubt it, but it would be really great if they did.

Jim: Probably not - I would hope so but really, without them understanding the lyrics I think the message would be lost. I would love to be proven wrong.

Ryan: that’s a good question. It’s hard to say. I think one thing that is appealing about heroes are horses is that it is a new approach to something that is already a tried and true aspect of our own culture. I like listening to Indian music, or African music, but there is a certain extent to which I am always a tourist. It never resonates in a deep down way like Furry Lewis or the Carter Family does.

Buddie: If you believe in a world consciousness, it would have broad appeal.

Bob: Have you seen our audiences lately?


Q# 9: Do you have optimism for the future of recorded music?


Mark: I am slightly indifferent on that issue. I am not pessimistic about it. There is no doubt in my mind that there will be an ample amount of caustic and useless sound produced in the next century, but I think the advancement of home recording will ensure a healthy dose of good music for years to come.

Jim: Yes. Thanks to digital recording it’s easier than ever before for people to record. With that many people doing it and with the dissatisfaction with the state of music and the government and culture of the US I think we could be on the cusp of a new generation of really important music.

Ryan: I am optimistic. Modern technology has made home recording a cheap and easy possibility for anyone interested. You never know who’s out there. But I do fear a decline in the support of live music.

Buddie: Yes, but nobody will get paid.

Bob: Yes. There will be pockets of great sounds coming from the most varied places – and the folks at the top will be scouting out all the great original ideas – nothing flows from the top down – it all grows from the cracks in the sidewalk up.


Q #10: What was your best Halloween costume?


Mark: Probably Shirley Shipley, I was the wife of an Alhambra Shriner named Corky Shipley, played by my wife. It is a long story. I will leave it at that.

Jim: I never dress up… personally opposed to it – unless it’s as a woman. I have dressed like a woman some.

Ryan: I’ve had bad luck with my costumes. One year I wanted to be a civil war officer. I had a big beard at the time, and I pieced together a costume from random places around town. Thrift stores and whatnot. But I ended up looking like a 19th century Russian porter. It was pretty disappointing. Tried to be an officer and ended up a lackey.

Buddie: When I was 17 I dressed up as a Quaalude.

Bob: When I was 11 I dressed as a little girl. Someone in our circle of friends asked, “who is the sad girl who didn’t dress up?” In my 20’s I dressed as Jesus and laid hands.


Q# 11: Would you say that the world is a quiet place or a loud place? How often do you seek out silence?

Mark: I write quiet music because the world is too loud. I have not found silence as of yet, and I do not know if it is even possible.

Jim: It’s a pretty loud place. The sad part is how much of the noise is worthless crap intending to sell you something or convince you of something. It’s pretty ridiculous. Even out in the country (to bring that up again), there is no true silence, just different, more organic noises. Also, I’m a new daddy so I have no quiet in my life ever.

Ryan: I pretty much do what I want.
Buddie: see number 2.
Bob: At present, the world is a very dark place, but soon – very soon – things will change.

 


Q# 12: Your music has a strong spatial element that, as a listener, I feel as if I’m entering an amorphous space defined by that sound. This is very different than, for example, Chuck Berry, when you feel Chuck Berry’s personality coming at you in a completely non-spatial way. It seems as if this style is designed to include everybody in the song, like incense creates a cloud which unites a small group of people. What are your thoughts on creating a communal atmosphere through sound?


Mark: That is pretty much it. When Jim and I got together, I wanted to create folk based music that was ambient, that could drift and lacked ego. I wanted a sound that could act as a sedative and is open for anyone to access.

Jim: I love it, but I’m also pretty much a socialist at this point. Also, we were just discussing Chuck Berry and Buddie reminded us all of how Mr. “Brown-Eyed Handsome Man” used to like to be pissed and shit on by women and vice versa. Since we do not particularly like that ourselves, it seems only natural that we would make music as counter to his as possible.

Ryan: it’s very important to me not to isolate people. Some music is created for the enjoyment of a select few, and that’s fine. For example – I wouldn’t call death metal a unifying musical style. It may be if you happen to like it. I’d like to think heroes are horses creates a communal atmosphere. Certainly as a musician that atmosphere is there. Every member of the band is like a part of the body.

Buddie: no response, except to goad us all on about the pissing and shitting and secret cameras in the ladies’ room of his theme park.

Bob: Chuck Berry would hit you in the face if you hit a wrong note – noone in this group would dare hit you in the face. Most of the time I’m just trying to stay clear of stepping on such great sounds.



Q# 13: Another aspect of the last question is that the lyrical subjects are so frequently about strained or broken relationships—in effect the audience and band are united in this combination of dolorous emotion and sweet sounds, creating a catharsis for the social alienation that plagues modern life?


Mark: Quite often our songs have a bit of a somber feel. We are not a depressing lot. We are actually quite the opposite. However, for some reason what we do best as a collective of musicians is make honest, heart-felt somber music. There is no shame in that. Every so often we liven it up a bit, but we try to be careful.

Jim: Well, we do what we know. Seems like most people have the same issues or have gone through them before so they should be able to identify.

Ryan: Bill loved beer chicken. He ate it every day. He lived to be 96. This is a man-horse (attached is a drawing of a man-horse, surrounded by moon and stars and looking down on the earth – but you can’t see it).

Buddie: Before this I played in a bellydance band.

Bob: Aren’t all relationships strained?




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