Currently under construction.

Can it really be true that Rolling Stone publisher/magnate Jann S. Wenner has personally conducted a decades-long campaign to bar The Monkees from induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?

Far-from-dummy Monkee Peter Tork certainly thinks so.

"He doesn't care what the rules are and just operates how he sees fit," Tork told the New York Post in 2007. "It is an abuse of power. I don't know whether The Monkees belong in the Hall of Fame, but it's pretty clear that we're not in there because of a personal whim."

Now sure, the Monkees (along with the Beach Boys, Byrds, even Beatles, most every Motown act, etc. etc. etc.) certainly didn't play every single note on every single record they ever made. Nevertheless, in 1967 Jann and his fledgling zine were riding extremely high on the Monkee-bashing bandwagon, using the television rockstars as the best/worst examples of all that was unhip, uncool, and truth be told un-San Francisco in the world.

Fair enough. I remember it also took Rolling Stone over a decade to figure out the Ramones too.

Regarding that great big late-Sixties Monkees-used-session-musicians brew-ha-ha though, as Peter most rightfully points out "Jann seems to have taken it harder than everyone else. And now, forty years later, everybody says, 'What's the big deal? Everybody else does it.' Nobody cares now except him. He feels his moral judgment in 1967 and 1968 is supposed to serve in 2007."

Of course, looking at the big picture, such Fame Hall squirmishes mean little if anything over here in what remains of the real world. But let me just remind Mr. Wenner and countless other Monkee doubters out there – and yes, there's probably just as many in 2011 as there were in 2007, to say nothing of 1967:

Forget about who really played all those flamenco breaks on "Valleri." If you were born anywhere between the years 1955 and 1960, and consequently were just a tad too young to teethe your ears upon Pet Sounds or Revolver, like me you tuned into your local NBC-TV affiliate on the evening of September 12, 1966, sat transfixed for the next thirty minutes, and then told yourself "Hey! So THAT'S what a rock and roll band really lives, looks, sounds and acts like!" Eating communal Rice Krispies at the break of noon, practicing in front of the patio window every day instead of going to school or work, yet always making sure to keep too busy singing to put anybody (under the age of twenty-five) down.

This was vital, and in my case at least life-changing information which just couldn't be gleaned from spotting the occasional three-minute Dave Clark Five or Turtles performance on The Ed Sullivan Show.

But even more importantly – and, as it turns out, much more slyly and cleverly – what Peter alongside his pals Davy Jones, Micky Dolenz and Mike "Wool Hat" Nesmith really did during their fifty-eight half-hours on NBC was, for the very first time, bring the counter-culture boldly into the North American entertainment mainstream.

Really.

You must understand that prior to 1966, long-haired kids were only seen on television getting into no good whatsoever down some dark, garbage-strewn alley …that is until Sergeant Joe Friday rounded them up while giving a stern lecture on morality into the nearest camera.

Suddenly though, here were four seemingly happy-go-lucky kids with hair over their ears and guitars over their shoulders, without any apparent "adult supervision" such as parents or bosses in sight, living for all intents and purposes the same kind of wholesome apple-pie life as those over in Mayberry or My Three Sons. Indeed, at the end of each broadcast day Davy always got the girl, the villains always got what they deserved, and the small-screen sun inevitably set to the accompaniment of yet another ultra-groovy new Nilsson or Boyce and Hart-penned tune (…which reminds me: long before "Penny Lane" or even D.A. Pennebaker, The Monkees damn well invented MTV too) (please, try not to hold it against them).

But for all their seemingly homespun zaniness, each week the Prefab Four were in actual fact getting up to the kind of (mis)adventures even A Hard Day's Night wouldn't, or couldn't show.

Don't just take my words for it though. Even Timothy Leary, unlike his supposed contemporaries way over at Rolling Stone, immediately saw between the cathode lines. And I quote (from Dr. Leary's own The Politics of Ecstasy): "The Monkees' television show. Oh, you thought that it was silly teenage entertainment? Don't be fooled. While it lasted, it was a classic Sufi put on. An early-Christian electronic satire. A mystic magic show. A jolly Buddha laugh at hypocrisy.

"At early evening kiddie-time on Monday the Monkees would rush through a parody drama, burlesquing the very shows that glue Mom and Dad to the set during prime time. Spoofing the movies and the violence and the down-heavy-conflict-emotion themes that fascinate the middle-aged. And woven into the fast-moving psychedelic stream of action were the prophetic, holy, challenging words. Micky was rapping quickly, dropping literary names, making scholarly references: then the sudden psychedelic switch of the reality channel. He looked straight at the camera, right into your living room, and up-levelled the comedy by saying: 'Pretty good talking for a long-haired weirdo, huh, Mr. and Mrs. America?' And then ZAP, flash. Back to the innocuous comedy."

And here I was as a wee tyke thinking I was just watching a live-action Rocky & Bullwinkle with amplifiers every week!

And now, many thanks to our heroes at Eagle Rock Entertainment, you need no longer roam the nether regions of your satellite dish or settle for dicey VHS-generation YouTube uploads to hear and see what all the fuss was truly about. For once again, the entire series of Monkeeshows, along with their even-seeing-isn't-quite-believing 33 1/3 Revolutions Per Monkee television spectacular – plus a slew of Kellogg's cereal commercials just to put everything in their proper hysterical perspective – have all been lovingly packaged anew into two (count 'em!) deluxe DVD box sets.

Once again we can watch Mike trading places – and prosthetic noses – with Frank Zappa before running for Mayor (and issuing forth a most somber soliloquy which seems even more relevant to today's socio-political atmosphere). We can see Peter bargaining to regain his musical soul from a metaphorically-steeped record-biz Beelzebub, and Micky battling the evil Wizard Glick and his far from subliminal television-brainwash machine (in an episode the fuzzy-headed Monkee, by the way, also directed).

And Davy? He gets the girl(s). And also taught Axl Rose how to dance, need I remind anyone.

It's all wacky and definitely wild throughout, you bet. But it's particularly surprising how extremely fast-paced and ingeniously edited these half-hours are, and in Series Two especially each show began doing, saying – and showing – things on the family tube that were absolutely unseen and unheard of across the pre-Python/Saturday Night Live landscape.

Plus the music throughout is top-notch, it should go without mentioning. Even the sequences where Liberace takes a sledge hammer to a grand piano.

Come 1968 however, all that was left for The Monkees was to star in the greatest rock 'n' roll film ever made (it's called Head, by the way) before paving the TV way for various Partridges, Banana Splits, and even their old nemesis Don Kirshner's Rock Concert. Lest we never forget Mike Nesmith's landmark Elephant and Television Parts series as well, full of the visionary and pioneering work he continues to this very date right there on his own Video Ranch Dot Com.

But for now, you better get ready to take a giant step back; back to the very beginning. To 7:30 pm, September 12, 1966. Disc 1, Episode 1 of Season 1 of The Monkees. Why, it really is more fun than a barrelful of, well, old Rolling Stone magazines.

http://popdetectiverecords.bandcamp.com/track/the-man-with-x-ray-eyes
The contest is on for "Coolest Song In The World For 2011" on Little Steven's Underground Garage. The Deadbeat Poets are nominated with The Man With The X-Ray Eyes"! Just scroll down to March 06, 2011! http://undergroundgarage.com/events/the-coolest-songs-in-the-world-2011.html You can vote once a day until December 23rd! Your votes will be greatly appreciated! You may have to register or log in here (in the top right corner) for free first!
http://undergroundgarage.com/

IRWIN CHUSID (author, Songs In The Key Of Z): Outsider music is a slippery genre. It’s musicians who tend to be self-taught, untrained, working certainly way outside the channels of mainstream music. There are very important qualifications: They are sincere about it. They mean it. They’re not doing it to be funny. They’re not doing it to be outrageous. This is a sincere musical expression. Wild Man Fischer in many ways is a poster child for outsider music.

MARK MOTHERSBAUGH (Devo): At his best, he’s mainlined right into this creative kind of subconscious. It’s coming from a pure place.

DENNIS P. EICHHORN (tour manager; Real Stuff Comics creator): I’ve seen him really work a crowd and have every single one of them responding to him positively. When he’s performing and when he’s got the pep, he’s one of the greatest entertainers you’d ever see in your life.

IRWIN CHUSID: The appeal of Larry’s music is that it’s real. You’re hearing something that is the musical vision of one singular human being that really comes from the heart and soul of an individual.

SOLOMON BURKE (King of Rock & Soul and Larry’s initial mentor): A very, extremely talented young man.

LARRY: I just think I’m the best rock singer in the world.

DAVID FISCHER (Larry’s older brother): I still don’t think he’s a good singer. I might be wrong.

* * * * * * * * * *

LARRY: You know what happened to my career? Nothing. I have nothing, you know? Once in a while I go out and sing, but that’s very rare. I’m too scared of the music business. And I’m too scared of all the people in it. Is that sad or what?

“DERAILROADED”:
I have been derailroaded / Derailroaded by everybody / I have been sent off the track / To wander like a fool / They are liars, and they are thieves / And they left me to stand around / Like a derailroaded fool

LARRY: That’s what the show-business people are like. They love to torture their entertainers. Those fuckers in show business, you know? They turned me into the psycho I’ve become.

BILLY MUMY (producer, Pronounced Normal, Nothing Scary): It’s unfortunate that Larry has not had more commercial success with his music. But Larry is a manic-depressive paranoid schizophrenic. And that is an interesting mixture of energy.

DR. LOUIS SASS (Professor of Clinical Psychology, Rutgers University): A person with schizophrenia is characterized by delusions. Hallucinations. Usually auditory hallucinations. A lot of it has to do with a feeling of conspiracies being directed at you. Everyone’s out to get you.

LARRY: I’m scared. There’s people after me. I don’t know who’s involved. I just don’t know who’s involved. It’s been a nightmare. All kinds of things have happened to me. Things that you would not believe.

“THE WILD MAN FISCHER STORY”:
In the year of 1962 / I got thrown out of school / In the year of 1963 / I was committed to a mental institution / In the year of 1964 / I was released from the mental institution / In the year of 1966 / I was committed to the mental institution again

LARRY: Well, my life has not been all that pleasant. My father died when I was young and my mother didn’t love me, or didn’t care about me. She used to make me eat on the sink. They made me stand up and eat on the sink. My mother didn’t love me.

GAIL ZAPPA: The thing about Los Angeles – there are a lot of freaks here. Freaks are people that have figured out a way to, in spite of society, express themselves. And so Larry is just another one of the freaks.

“WHY I AM NORMAL”:
I would say I’m a normal, everyday person, you know? I like girls. I like to eat at restaurants. I like sports cars. I like motorcycles. I’d like to get married one day, have kids. You know, raise a normal family. My mother always used to, you know, wonder about me. She wondered what I was gonna do when I got older. I said Mother, don’t worry about me. I’ll get a job! I’ll go straight!

LARRY: The first audition I went on was for Rowan & Martin’s Laugh-In. And I got it.

DAN ROWAN (Laugh-In episode # 16, 1968):
Now that he’s been exposed on national TV, don’t you think he’ll fly to stardom?

FRANK ZAPPA (producer, An Evening with Wild Man Fischer): I thought that from the very first day that I met him, somebody should make an album about Wild Man Fischer.

LARRY: Frank Zappa told me that he could make me a rock star. And if Frank Zappa told you that, wouldn’t you think you might be able to become a rock star?

FRANK ZAPPA: But when you’re working with someone like Wild Man Fischer, the problems that arise become too much to bear.

“DO THE WILDMAN”:
There’s a new dance goin’ round the land / Come on everybody, do the Wild Man / Throw your arms up, pretend you’re a child / That’s it now, you’re getting wild

FRANK ZAPPA: One thing that you must remember about Wild Man Fischer is that he actually is a wild person. And, uh, Larry is dangerous.

LARRY: He loved it. He said that if he ever had a son, he wanted his son to be just like me. I swear to God he said that.

FRANK ZAPPA: I spent three months working on the Wild Man Fischer album. And at the end of that time not only was I accused of robbing Wild Man Fischer and cheating Wild Man Fischer and abusing him – most of this from Wild Man Fischer himself – but the album itself did not sell a large amount of copies.

“THE WILD MAN FISCHER STORY”:
In the year of 1968 / Have I made a mistake? / Will I end up a bum? / Will I end up a crumb? / Will I end up in hell? / Will I end up in jail? / Will I end up in Jesus? / Will I end up in trees? / Will I end up rich, rich, rich, rich? / Wild Man Fischer / Wild Man Fischer / Merry-go, Merry-go, Merry-go-round / boop boop boop…

LARRY: Well, I never became a rock star. Frank Zappa fired me. That’s it.

“FRANK”:
Frank’s got money in the bank / Frank’s got women he can spank / Frank owns my publishing rights / You could say he’s on my mind / Think about him all the time…

LARRY: You got to have three things: You got to have talent. You got to have luck. And you got to have persistence.

GAIL ZAPPA: I never thought that he would have a real career. And I see him now, and he looks like a very, very exhausted version of that person that I knew then. He’s almost identical.

* * * * * * * * * *

LARRY: Want to hear how I started a multimillion-dollar empire? “Go To Rhino Records” – you ever heard that song before?

“GO TO RHINO RECORDS”:
Go to Rhino Records / On Westwood Boulevard / Go to Rhino Records / On Westwood Boulevard / You can get Herb Alpert / And Jackie Lomax / For 40 cents / Da-doo, Da-doo

LARRY: That’s the first song that was ever done for Rhino Records. I started a multimillion-dollar company! I became Rhino Records’ mascot! Think about it.

“THE BOUILLABAISSE”:
Don’t ever forget the money / Don’t ever forget the money…

DAVID FISCHER: Larry never seemed to have any money, no matter how many albums the guy was doing. It was beyond me. If they do an album on somebody and if it’s not successful, why are you doing another? And what was he supposed to get out of it? I mean, he certainly was very upset and bitter about it.

“IT’S A MONEY WORLD”:
It’s a money world / It’s a money world…

LARRY: Show business is really hard. You really can’t trust that very many people. Rhino Records, and most people, have taken advantage of me. Here’s a song I wrote about the music business:

“DERAILROADED”:
Money occupies your mind / Money can buy your songs / Money is all you buy / It’s a money world / I wish there was no such thing as money

AGREEMENT DATED 12/1/83:
“This is to prove that Larry Fischer received $750.00, (seven hundred & fifty dollars), as an advance for his album called Nothing Scary. (signed) Larry Fischer.”

“DON’T BE A SINGER”:
All you’ll ever meet are cheaters and liars / Liars and thieves / And robbers and swindlers / That’s all you’ll ever meet, that’s all you’ll ever see / Don’t be a singer

LARRY: I don’t want to be a rock singer no more. It’s a horrifying experience. It’s a nightmare. It’s not as good as you think it is. People use singers.

LARRY (letter to Dennis Eichhorn):
“Dear Denny, I like you. You are a nice guy. You know, I quit show business. I hate show business. It’s full of crooks. And you’re one of them. A nice crook. Your friend, Larry.”

MARK MOTHERSBAUGH: He’d call me up and go “Mark, I’m quitting show biz. Do you blame me?” I’d go “No, I don’t blame you. It’s an awful business.” He would quit show business about two or three times a week.

“IT’S A HARD BUSINESS” (recorded with Rosemary Clooney):
Rosemary, I’m thinking of quitting this impossible business / Oh really, Larry? I hope not / It’s just too hard / It’s a hard business / Please tell me that you agree / It’s a hard business / It’s hard for you and hard for me / It’s a hard business / Reaching way down in your soul / It’s a hard business / Singing jazz or rock ‘n’ roll

* * * * * * * * * *

LARRY: The main reason I got into the music business was to impress my family, earn a living, complete my dream. But I knew I would never be able to tour. I’m too paranoid.

RUDY RAY MOORE (The Avenging Disco Godfather): This is the way I would interpretate [sic] that particular phrase of “derailroaded”: The railroad carries a train, and the train has come off of the tracks and fell over. And where am I going from here? Sounds like a sad story.

“ONE OF A KIND MIND”:
My mind is one of a kind / And if you ever come across a mind like mine / Make sure you dig it, and dig it for gold / Because my mind is one of a kind / Right?

DR. LOUIS SASS: I think there are a lot of different reasons why people are drawn to Larry’s music. One of them is a little bit like the reason why people a century or two ago would go sometimes to the asylums to look at the patients. It’s a kind of voyeurism to stare at this person who seems so weird and so uninhibited. But a second reason, of course, is that we’re really moved by what he says and the story that he tells of his life and of his sufferings.

MARK MOTHERSBAUGH: He’s a force of nature. He’s like a poet. He’s a bard in the best of ways, I think. If he grew up in Mongolia, he might have been considered a shaman. And everything that he is and does would be tolerated.

LARRY: I guess I’m getting older now. I can’t be a musician/singer anymore. I’m too old. I want to be a musician/singer. I want to make everybody happy.

“DO YOU EVER HAVE A GOAL IN LIFE”:
My goal in life was to become a singer / But it didn’t come true / I think / I don’t know / Who cares? / Bye-bye

* * * * * * * * * *

All of the above dialogue and lyric are taken from Josh Rubin’s stellar documentary Derailroaded: Inside The Mind of Larry “Wild Man” Fischer, newly available on DVD from MVD Visual.

Lawrence Wayne Fischer passed away on June 16, 2011

When rock duo Pets recorded their first album Pick Up Your Feet (2006), Derek Fieth and Allison Jones came by their signature sound by playing guitars in unison while letting a drum machine fill in the beats. Despite their minimalist approach, Pets managed to create a soundscape of Spectorian proportions with the addition of keyboards and electronic effects. "Pushy" gets things off to a lively start with Derek mumbling about his girl's aggressive nature while Allison eggs him on by screaming the album's title over and over. And from that point on, the production work by the band and Doug Godsey is damn near insane! A consistent barrage of noises bounce around and sweep through like a monstrous mosquito while other moments are accented with shimmering echoes. As a vocalist, Allison is a force to be reckoned with, exploding with "SET TO ATTACK!" to kick off the album's second track "Meatbee" (which, not coincidentally, is another name for the hostile yellowjacket wasp). On tunes like "Backseat," "Coldhouse," and "Be My Friend," she yelps and chants and often sounds as though she's on the verge of hysteria. Derek, on the other hand, has a much more laid-back demeanor on songs like "Pretty" and "Give You a Ride." And when the two engage in a round of call-and-response, there's something undeniably sexy about the way they play off each other. I have to admit the two tracks in the middle that don't feature a lead vocal by either member of the band aren't as engaging to me as the ones before and after, but they still feel as though they belong thanks to the clever segueways and sequencing. The focus is clearly on sound dynamics and how this music makes you feel rather than how it makes you think. Sex, dancing, and generally having a good time with the one you love is primarily what matters here, and I can state from firsthand experience that they've succeeded admirably in inspiring that credo. The album closes with a near-instrumental track during which Derek and Allison's voices faintly rise up in the distance as it progresses. It's a nicely subdued ending for a record that can really get your heart pumping and feet moving.

Quite frankly, I was a bit confused the first time I listened to the follow-up album, Ready the Rifles (2010). Pick Up Your Feet split the vocal duties evenly between Pets' two members, but Ready the Rifles is basically Derek's moment in the spotlight with Allison literally in the backseat. She has only one lead here on "Switchblade" and just provides background and harmony vocals on some of the other tracks. Since Allison injected a welcome dose of adrenalin to many of the first album's songs, I wasn't quite prepared for her relative absence the second time around. Another unexpected development involves the general sound of the recording, which is considerably more relaxed and conventional compared to Pets' first outing. (Also different: Ira Skinner adds a more human touch on the drums and serves as an unofficial third member.) Having spent more time with Ready the Rifles and allowing my initial expectations to gradually fade away, I can now assess it on its own merits. What this album lacks in visceral impact, it makes up for with simple and engaging pop songs that'll remind you of The Vaselines ("Lost in There") and The Jesus and Mary Chain, who serve as ground zero for the majority of Derek's more melodic material. Stripping away most of the sonic jewelry has allowed for a more streamlined sound that lets the hooks dominate more readily. As with Pick Up Your Feet, the lyrics here are pretty basic and are mostly present to hang the infectious rhythms on. The following lines from "Clever is Whatever" seem to suggest that physical satifaction is still a priority: "The last thing I'm trying to do is to seem smart to you / The furthest thing from my mind is what goes on inside your brain."  But with persistent references to guns (naturally) and breaking hearts, there seems to be more going on below the surface for this second go-around. And when Allison does chime in from time to time, there'll be no doubting that this is a Pets album. Granted, it'll have quite a few older fans like myself scratching their heads during its maiden voyage, but stick with it and I think it'll begin to shine as a low-key gem over time.

Bonus fun fact - Pets have been nominated for SAMMIE Awards in no less than five different categories in just as many years: Electronic, Rock, Pop, Indie, and Post-Punk. Stay tuned to see how they'll be classified in the near future!

----------------------------------------------

You can find Pets' Pick Up Your Feet for sale here.

Since PopMatters has let the link go dark, here's my 2006 interview about the process of writing the 33 1/3 book about Neutral Milk Hotel's wonderful album "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea."

Continuum's Cover Lit: The 33 1/3 Series
Riding a Comet's Flame: An Interview with Kim Cooper
[7 April 2006]

"In him not being interviewed he becomes the center of the book, but he would be anyway." Kim Cooper speaks to PopMatters about the musical friendships that gave rise to In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, Jeff Mangum's reluctance to publicly speak about the band, and the difficulties of portraying people and music with words.

by Anne K. Yoder

No stranger to music criticism, Kim Cooper has been the reigning editrix of Scram Magazine for the past 14 years and has also co-edited a book of overlooked albums, entitled Lost in the Grooves. A self-proclaimed "sixties and bubblegum" gal, Cooper admits that she was an unlikely candidate to pen the tale behind In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. Not identifying as an indie rocker allowed her to cast a wider net when delving into the band's history, and she emerged not just another critic preaching to the choir. Instead she turns out a story that charts the strength of friendships, a way of life through music, and the forces which culminated in Aeroplane. She admits she felt like Neutral Milk Hotel's Boswell while writing the definitive book, the first to be published about the band. Kim Cooper spoke to PopMatters about the musical friendships that gave rise to In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, Jeff Mangum's reluctance to publicly speak about the band, and the difficulties of portraying people and music with words.

PM: More than just chronicling In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, your book attempts to document the formation and gestation of Neutral Milk Hotel, and to show the relationships and circumstances that made it possible for Jeff Mangum and Neutral Milk Hotel to create the album. What was it that made you decide to tackle the album from this perspective?

KC: Realizing as I talked to people that everybody felt like they had contributed to it. The first interview we did was with Robert Schneider, and he blew my mind cause I suddenly realized -- oh my God, this is the fifth Neutral Milk Hotel member. I mean he called himself that. He's this wonderful blend of, he's incredibly confident but he's also self-effacing so he doesn't come off as arrogant, it just seems very sincere, and he made that first album, it was pretty much, he was the filter who helped Jeff bring to life what was inside of him. And by the time the band showed up the second time around to do Aeroplane, the whole dynamic had changed. And it wasn't just the two of them working as they had their whole lives, just trying to refine their personalities and their art, there were suddenly three new people along for the ride, just trying to understand where Robert fit in. And that just kind of highlighted that the relationships were -- understanding the relationships was essential to understanding the albums and figuring out what role everybody played and how they helped each other do their best.

PM: The book really focuses on the relationships between the musicians and the musical community that Neutral Milk Hotel was a part of and how they relocated and at each place they brought people together. And so from talking to the members of Elephant 6 and Neutral Milk Hotel, what's your take on the relationship between the communities they generated and the genesis of the album?

KC: I don't think the album would've existed if the community hadn't been so strong. I think Jeff could've written those songs without having the band, and I think he could've gone to Robert and he could've recorded that album, but it wouldn't have sounded anything like it sounds. Cause you've got this almost free jazz drummer, you have this self -- well, not exactly self-taught -- you know I don't want to say that Scott Spillane is not a trained horn player, he is, but that's not what his training is on, the things he played on on the album, you know he's more of a high school marching band guy, but he's got the willingness to go down into the basement and come up with these amazing arrangements with Robert that just sound so timeless and lost and Julian with the saw and the lute, and you know it's just every single person brought to it this kind of vibrant dreamlike beauty ... You know, there are people who love On Avery Island more.

PM: I don't know if I've met many, though.

KC: I've looked around on the message boards though. I think it's a bit perverse to do that, I mean they're both great records, but Aeroplane is just so stunning. And it reminds me a bit of Forever Changes by Love, where they're beautiful songs but the orchestration is so incredible that somehow they're more powerful.

PM: In the book, you make a conscious effort to steer clear of overanalyzing the album and its music and meanings. What was your vision of what you did and didn't want the book to be?

KC: I didn't want it to be an autopsy. I didn't want anybody to feel like having read what some critic know-it-all had to say about the meaning of the songs, that they would never be able to listen to the record again without thinking of some cockamamie theory. I mean, I have an academic background, I have an M.A. in art history, I certainly know how to take things apart and be a good little postmodernist. But I don't think art needs that. I'm much more interested in how this thing came into existence and the influence that it had, rather than shining a light on every little nook and cranny of the creation itself. Because I think that to every person who listens to it, it has its own meaning. And if it doesn't -- what's the point, you aren't going to read a book about it, and if it does, I think it would take some value away. I think you can tell some people things that they don't know about the record that will increase its interest for them, without spoiling it.

PM: It almost seems like Jeff Mangum's reluctance to talk about it steers away from overanalysis, in a sense.

KC: I think his writing is very much automatic writing, like spiritual writing. From the descriptions of how he wrote songs, just repeating phrases over and over again and banging on the guitar and looping, you know I think he wrote it in a semi-hypnotic state and he knows where some imagery came from, but I think other things just come out of the sound or out some sort of connection with the vast, creative universe. You know, how can you dissect it? You can't. I think if he, as a songwriter, started doing that he would probably be worried that he would lose the ability to tap in.

PM: It seems that so many of the people who were in the band and associated with the band are forthcoming about their involvement and are willing, and even enthusiastic to talk to you about the experience -- everyone except for Jeff Mangum, whose absence is somewhat palpable, as he is the central figure in the band and behind the music. Why do you think he mostly refuses to speak about Neutral Milk Hotel and his music in general?

KC: I think there's a lot of factors. I don't speak for him, but I think all that Laura Carter said about him as a rock-and-roll myth as someone who disappears and comes back and blows peoples' minds is interesting. And I think it was a difficult time for him when the band broke up, and that was before he really had a chance to process the album and the way people reacted to it. I think that as a person it's probably a difficult thing to try to wrap your mind around, and people have been inappropriate in approaching him before. I mean I think he's a person who's drawn a little wall around himself, for whatever reason. He's not a recluse. He goes out to shows, he's been performing lately.

PM: Did you try to contact Jeff Mangum?

KC: Yeah, I spoke to him. We had an off-the-record conversation and we would e-mail back and forth. I think that's what opened the door for me to talk to everyone else is was that I talked to him first. And then his friends, I suspect, talked to him, because people were very nice and very welcoming.

PM: When I said his absence is palpable it isn't so much that you can feel it in the book per se. It isn't like a vacancy that isn't filled, it's just that while the book is essentially about Jeff Mangum, his point of view is noticeably absent.

KC: In him not being interviewed he becomes the center of the book, but he would be anyway. It's a little strange and of course we'd all be interested in what he remembered because he was as much a part of it as anyone else. But it is so charged and people are so fascinated with him, it's kind of impossible for him to just give a normal interview. You know, he kind of becomes bigger than it is no matter what he or I try to do about it. On one level I was glad he didn't talk to me on the record. I mean I think we were both struggling with it and how to handle it. It would've been a much harder book to write, I think, if I had had his voice, just because I would've been very conscious of every word. You know Julian is so powerful in the book, he's such a compelling speaker on the power of music to change lives. We went over his copy together and there were things that he wasn't comfortable with. I mean he was very aware of how people would react to what he was saying, and I think Jeff even more so.

PM: When you first heard the album, did it have an overpowering effect on you?

KC: Yeah, since 1993, I've basically been sent hundreds of records a month. And it's very, very rare that something gets to me like that. I don't like much indie-type rock. And you know, I just felt like it was very haunting, very powerful, and weird and unpredictable and I could listen to it over and over again. I mean I've loved it since it came out. I don't listen to it a lot, probably since it's like taking a punch to the gut every time. But it's beautiful. It's one of my favorites.

PM: I think that you don't write about indie music a lot gives you a more interesting perspective than if you did.

KC: I hope so. I hope I can put it in context. Not within its immediate context, but within a broader one. Because when I was thinking of what to write about, I wasn't thinking about other bands as much as I was thinking about surrealists and early nineteenth-century fantastical illustration, and fairy tales. I mean I didn't feel like this was as much a rock 'n' roll story as much as it was just the history of the fantastic in literature and art. And I could've gone in that direction, but it probably would've been too academic. Like I had all these fairy tales analyses I was trying to hash together about children lost in the woods and siblings.

PM: So what's the feeling that you get from talking to the people who're involved with the album, does anyone still harbor hopes that Neutral Milk Hotel will reunite, or are they hopeful that Jeff Mangum will start recording new songs again?

KC: Everybody says it could happen. They're like, "Oh, it might happen, it might not." I don't think any door is shut. But it's not like it's going to happen. And… have you ever tried to get a really shy cat to come out and let you pet it? And you kind of have to look away and pretend you're not interested? I think it's a little like that. Like OK, don't get too excited when Jeff gets up and sings or you aren't going to see him for a while. It'd be great, but at the same time, if they made a big deal about it and played a festival it would be such a big deal.

PM: Right, it would be.

KC: And I hope it doesn't take the fun away.

PM: I get a sense from reading the book that everything kind of just comes together for the band because it does and it isn't as though there's so much forethought -- there is with the music to some extent -- but somehow things just magically come together.

KC: Yeah, and there's just a lot of trust -- [they're able to say] OK, well it's good work, let's make it happen -- and learning as they go. And you know, I didn't go into what Laura does now, but you know she's involved in this kind of off-the-grid-community out on the edge of Athens where they took over the old Girl Scout camp and they're building houses and kind of communal living and cooking quarters. I think that's just an extension of what the band was like. It's a kind of way of using a little bit from everybody in order to have something better than any individuals could have by themselves.

PM: In the book you compare and contrast Jeff Mangum to Kurt Cobain, in the sense that Kurt Cobain didn't know that he could just step down when Nirvana became too big of a band for him to really handle it, when it became more than what he wanted.

KC: You know, it's an enormous amount of pressure. I mean I don't know why they toured so relentlessly, I don't know if Merge set that up or if it was the band really wanting to do it. But it obviously was very physically hard on Jeff. Because he was super sick when he got home. And I think that's the biggest influence on all of this was that he was just too sick. And that's the main reason, you can't do anything when you're that ill. He's gone on the record as saying that he had both hepatitis and mono at the same time. Can you imagine? I mean, are you going to consider your career, or are you just going to crash? I mean I've had mono, that's bad enough. So you know, then it's a couple years later, he was better, he looks back, and it's like, what the hell happened?... Life moves on.