By: Jennifer Wagner |
Monday March 12, 2007 |
| Sparklehorse talks to Static |
| Photos By Tim Saccenti
I was gonna kick Julie in the butt. Not, like, kick her ass as in beat her up, I was physically going to connect my foot with her butt and at the time I figured that would turn out really, really funny. The evening of my interview with Sparklehorse's Mark Linkous, my friends Sully, Angie, Julie and I had a tasty dinner of Middle Eastern food not too far from the Double Door where my talk with Mark was scheduled and where he'd perform to a sold-out crowd later on. Our tasty dinner involved substantial amounts of tasty wine, naturally, so by the time we left the restaurant we were feeling quite fine. Julie got ahead of the rest of us walking down busy Damen Ave, clipping along at a great rate of speed. That is when I formed my plan to kick her in the butt. I broke into a run, leaving Sully and Ang behind, and feeling like quite the rabble rouser approached the unsuspecting Julie. I made my choice of kick; the fancy kind I used to do at soccer practice as a youth, where you just sort of flip your leg out and backwards at the knee and the outside of your foot makes contact with the ass cheek (later Sully informed me that the move has a simple, descriptive name: the "inverted butt kick"). I was coming up on Julie to her right, so my left leg would do the dirty deed. I had good momentum going and she was completely unaware of my presence. The setup was perfect. I vaulted my left leg out and to the side, and only then did it occur to me that the last time I'd done the inverted butt kick I was twenty years younger, thirty pounds lighter, and almost certainly not drunk. All of this useful information cut through my mischievous overconfidence as my leg, already swinging hard, completely missed its target. I got nothing but air. Three feet short of Julie's ass combined with the force of the kick sent me flying and I went down hard, I went down fast, and landed violently half on the sidewalk and half on the street. I ripped open my gloves at the palms, I tore my jeans, I was scraped up and bleeding pretty good. I lifted my head off Damen Avenue in time to see Julie turn, see me and gasp, "Ohmygodareyouokay?!" She was still completely in the dark that she was the target of an attempted assault. Looking behind me there was Julie and Ang, literally doubled over laughing. They were cracking up so hard they couldn't breathe and the tears and snot flowed freely (later Sully admitted that she laughed so hard she nearly vomited. She had just eaten, after all). Just then I heard my phone ringing somewhere behind me - it had landed about two feet away from me on the street. I reached for it, and almost got my arm smashed by a speeding hybrid making it's way down the road. Still lying there prone and wounded I answered, "Hello?!" It was Sparklehorse's tour manager, letting me know Mark was ready to speak with me. "Great!" I said cheerfully. He instructed me to meet him in front of the tour bus. I picked some gravel out of my face and ambled to my feet. I nodded to Julie, flipped off Sully and Ang, and limped down to the Double Door. When I met the tour manager, he looked at me strangely but said nothing. When I got to the sleepy, lithe Mr. Linkous at the back of the bus, he also looked at me strangely but said nothing. Jennifer Wagner: So how's the tour been going? You were just in Madison, WI right? Mark Linkous: Madison was okay, despite being sick. Oh, are you staying hydrated, young man?! ML: Yeah. Good. And your hair looks good, if nothing else. (Mr. Linkous gave me a look of disdain, making no reply). So, three months out on the new album; how do you feel about it? ML: The album or touring? Both! ML: The album: I like it, there were a lot of pop songs on this album, and they are sort of dangerous to me. It takes a lot more work to make them sound really interesting, fresh, and compelling. Is that because you think that pop's general progression is trite and you need to put something else into it? ML: Well, it's easy if you're not really careful for it to come out trite and just kind of pedestrian sounding. So you're careful to make sure it doesn't sound that way. ML: Yeah. So a lot of times it takes a lot longer, deconstructing and then reconstructing. Deconstructing rhythms, origins, tones, all of it? Explain. ML: Mostly tones and parts. Like the last album, It's a Wonderful Life, I had a real specific idea of how I wanted it to sound, and that was to avoid using guitars wherever possible, and orchestrate the parts that were written on guitar. How did that work out? ML: It worked out really well, it was the last album. 2001. You got a lot of acclaim for that one. ML: I guess it's because I had such a specific idea about how I wanted it to sound and I knew what to do to get there. So you think that resulted in some pretty good critiques? Having such a specific direction was helpful to your reviews? ML: It was helpful on that record, yeah, and it might have been why it took so long for this album to come out. It just took a lot more work and insight to make these dangerous pop songs to sound interesting to me. Did you feel like you had something to prove following It's a Wonderful Life? Were you comparing yourself to that record at all? Did you give yourself something to live up to? ML: I'm still not sure I completely articulated how I heard the pop songs in my head, if they ended up being realized on record the way I imagined them being. Did they sound alright to you? (Voice up two octaves) Mostly? ML: Mostly. (Voice still up two octaves) Is mostly good enough? ML: Not really. (Laughs) I mean, mostly is probably, I don't know. I'm not as satisfied with it as I was for It's a Wonderful Life, I guess just because I'm not positive that I articulated the sounds. Did you feel pressured to finish it up? Would you have spent more time in the studio if you could have? You recorded this in your own studio, right? ML: Most of it. That's in West Virginia? ML: North Carolina (Laughs). I lived in Virginia for a long time, but I moved to North Carolina about four years ago. I pick up a distinct twang in your voice. It's nice. ML - (Laughing) Yeah. So anyway back to feeling pressure; did you feel pressure from the label to get the album completed? ML: There was pressure, mostly among my circle, my manager and stuff, because I hadn't put anything out in so long it was getting hard to pay the rent. (Laughing) I imagine. But you've always had, aside from the understandable gap in time (referencing Linkous' 1996 near-death experience in London), you've always had a considerable gap in time between albums. So this was an atypical length in time? ML: It was longer than usual. Five years. Well it's out. You gave birth to it, and now it's yours. You don't think it gestated 100% but you'll raise it. Is that pretty much how you feel about it? ML: Yeah, just have to live up to it. Hey, do you have any actual kids? ML: Nah. You're married though, right? ML: I've been married fifteen years. Does your wife travel with you? ML: Occasionally. Like on long tours she'll come and meet me for a few weeks. Or if you're somewhere for a while? ML: I'm never anywhere for a long time. But sometimes if I'm on a long tour she'll come out. So pretty much most of your career you've been with one woman! ML: Yeah. That's good! Any future plans to have kids? ML: I don't know. Sometimes I really like the idea and sometimes I'm really glad that I don't. (Laughing) I know what you mean. I really love being an aunt, but that's as close as I wanna be! ML: I'm a new uncle as well! And Godfather! Awwwwwwww! Congratulations! The little peatart will be influenced horribly by you, no doubt. ML: (Laughing) He's a cool kid. Your band is sort of a revolving door, except for the drummer? ML: Well, he's played on my albums since the first album and he toured with me on my very first tour, but I couldn't get him to tour for the last bunch of years. Why not? ML: I think he just got burnt out on touring for a long time, he had his own band and things, he got married and had a kid, kinda had a local gig where he played jazz music and I think he was just kind of content. I think I know the answer to this, but would you prefer to record versus tour if you had to pick? (Suddenly I hear a little twang creeping into my own voice. Funny.) ML: Usually I'd say record but this last record took so long, it was just such a laborious thing that I think I've been enjoying touring a lot more than I have in the past. I used to really feel guilty singing the songs night after night, making entertainment out of it. But I've been doing that for so long that finally I just said, 'Fuck it, I'm gonna play with these people who are great players and have a good time!' Tell me more about feeling guilty. Do you feel like you're not putting the passion into it every night? ML: No, I felt like I was belittling the lyrics. Mostly the lyric stuff, singing the same lyrics to people night after night, on a stage you know, elevated five feet above the audience like, you know, I'm an entertainer. Our interview time was up, more journalists were waiting outside the bus, and at this point the tour manager opened the door to the back where we sat. "We're about done," Mark said. I nodded and the tour guy ducked out looking a bit stressed. So that bothered you, being leveled physically above the crowds? ML: (Quickly and emphatically) Yeah. And you felt that the juice of the lyrics was getting sucked dry with repetition? ML: I just felt guilty about repeating the lyrics to strangers night after night. That's thoughtful, that shows a lot of heart, that you felt that way. But we're out of time, so, what do you want to make sure I mention? ML: Oh, I don't know, right now I can't think straight. (Laughing) I'm sorry! (Laughing) No worries, no worries! Hey, thank you, Mark. ML: You're very welcome! I was stiff and crusty with blood and shame as I inched off the bus; the tour manager had to help me down the steps. The other journalists waiting outside looked mortified: given my shredded visage, an interview with Linkous was clearly quite a rough ordeal. I looked at a cameraman from Q101 and said drolly, "You have no idea." I could see his Adam's apple bob when he gulped as they were led inside. |