Plot To Blow Up The Eiffel Tower interview.

I have known these guys back when they still played in Durga, which in my opinion is a much better band, but thats neither here nor there I suppose. I did this interview years ago, before Facist Brothel came out. I think this ran in Status [rip]. Seth had one of the best zines/labels around, and was a really nice guy. Anyway, I love Brian, Chuck & Brandon, and was there at the very beginning when Mikey put out there three song demo. I could write paragraphs here about all the times we had as the Durga Dance Disaster Troupe, or when The Plot played with Terror at the Che and they covered Unbroken because none of the tough guys were dancing. The interview when run in Status was shortened by a great length, editing out a lot of the snarkiness from Brandon. Here you go with the full version. I hope you enjoy.

Q: First, lets get the typical stuff out of the way.Please give us the history of the Plot starting with the demise of Durga please.
Brandon: It's funny that you know that you know about Durga. So, Charles and myself had been playing music together for a few years. After Durga's break up we were feeling disillusioned. We knew we loved each other, but could we make it together as musicians? We decided to search our souls in Mexico. With no money in our pockets, we crossed at the San Ysidro border-crossing. For a week we stayed in Tijuana and engaged in any illicit activity we could to raise money. Our next move was the purchase of train tickets to get us to the small fishing village of Puerto Nuevo. We figured only here would we get the solitude and serenity necessary to achieve peace of mind. We made it to Puerto Nuevo, where we purchased an acoustic guitar and wrote the beginning fragments of the songs that would later appear on our first recording. We busked during the day in the town square and spent our nights, drunk on tequila, writing. One fateful night, we found ourselves in a particularly rough bar in Puerto Nuevo's red-light district. Taking offense to our obvious Yanqui background, a gang of local n'er-do-wells engaged us in the most un-gentlemanly of fights. Luck was obviously on our side that night, for Brian Hill and Willy Graves were in a back booth of this very same bar. They were in Puerto Nuevo as merchant seamen, but seeing two innocents such as Charles and myself being victimized by drunken locals, they sprang to action and became our fisticuffed saviours. When the dust settled, Charles and I were huddled on the ground, but our adversaries were out cold and our heroes were Brian and Willy. We thanked them with a song and found they too had been bitten by the musical bug. They defected from their respective fishing crews and joined us in our quest. The rest, as they say, is history.
Brian: I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar, and I just happened to catch Durga's final performance. Brandon tried to get in my pants when I brought him his Shirley Temple and I wasn't having it at all. I couldn't help but notice his and Chuck's amazing locks of hair though, and I knew that these were the guys for me, being balding and all. I figure their extreme good looks would offset my progeria of the scalp. I was right. They broke up their band that night, and immediately put the Plot together with me on drums. Since then, we've toured a whole lot and will likely continue to do so.
Chuck: Durga, haha. While Brandon and I were in Durga, Plot was just starting and it seems like all we ever talked about was Plot. Durga was like financial suicide not like being a musician isn’t already. We quit Durga and did Plot full time with Brian Hill and Dan Maier. We took on all shows and recorded a demo then a seven inch. We toured the west coast a lot and eventually Happy Couples Never Last saw us and asked us to record an Lp. We recorded Dissertation Honey which contains some of the first songs we’d ever written. We then applied a thick glaze of jazz to the recording; which is embarrassing as hell now to hear but yes at the time we felt like a jazz-punk group. A spotty US tour and more west coasts led us to If You Cut Us We Bleed and Dan Maier quitting. Willy Graves, a good friend, joined as the new bass player and we finished writing and recorded the songs of Love In The Fascist Brothel. Revelation signed us and Three One G offered to release the vinyl. 2004 was like one huge tour jaunt; a tour with The Locust, a west coast trip to Canada, a troubled US tour; a smooth west coast trip with Since By Man; a vacant west coast trip with Fresh Kills; and another US tour to CMJ which was an incredibly great and shambled end to a productive year.

Q: Do you have certain goals with the band? Are you on a mission to change the world? Brandon: Our primary goal right now is to be able to eat.
Brian: I think we used to be more optimistic about the world somewhat, but that's not a factor anymore. My personal goal with the Plot is to avoid the crippling boredom that comes with living in San Diego. So far, so good. As a band, I believe that we are here to save kids from horrible, horrible music because there's so much of it out there.
Chuck: The only goal we’ve ever had is to be able to quit our jobs and play in the band full-time. We still haven’t met that one.

Q:Some of your lyrics could be interpreted on a political level? Which role do politics play in your life?
Brandon: I'm not a politician. I don't have many answers. I know, though, that I don't want to spend my life slaving and filling someone's wallet. Sacrificing financial security for artistic pursuits is a political act.
Brian: We aren't overtly political, but we definitely believe that there are things in this world that are truly fucked up. This newest record is a lot more personal lyrically to Brandon and Chuck and doesn't really attempt to skim over large and complicated problems plaguing society. I couldn't go so far as to say I was an activist for anything directly, but I can't ignore things.

Q:How is the response to your records? Are there many kids telling you that they got inspired? Brandon: We've received the full spectrum of response from people. One night a crowd will want to kiss us and the next night the crowd wants to kill us. I guess overall the response has been positive. The most important thing to me is how I feel about the music we make. Our first record was total dog shit. Of course, that's not how I felt when we made it. I love our new record, but who knows how I'll feel about it in 2 or 3 years.
Brian: Occasionally, someone will tell us that, and it's kind of odd to hear. It's nice to know that someone else likes us though; it makes me want to do more with this band.
Chuck: Yes, kids say that we inspire them; I think all of St. Louis has been inspired by now. People really like Dissertation Honey. Unfortunately we will never write and record like that again. Everything has changed since then. The only thing I can do is inspire a kid to play music, I have no other talent. When he does play music I hope he understands that to make waves you have to draw a line in the sand and destroy everything that came before you. Your parents must not approve.

Q: One of the first things that struck me the first time I saw you guys were the song titles. How do you end up coming up with them, and do they have any relation to the lyrics?
Brandon: All of our song titles relate to the lyrics. The process for naming a song goes like this: We'll have written a new song, complete with lyrics. Charles and I will then get as drunk as we can, take off all of our clothes and lock ourselves in a room for the night. By the next morning, we have a song title.
Brian: Wordplay c/o Brandon and Chuck.
Chuck: They are always in relation to the lyrics. But we try never to use bits of lyrics to name our songs though. I think we’ve done a good job at naming, except for Green Cars. Brandon and I are always on the same page about the band’s writing.

Q: Is your local scene important to you? I think you'll find that when a lot of bands gain prominence in other larger cities, that their support of their local scene can wane, for example - band members that only show up to "support the scene" when their own band is playing. Are any of The Plot's members involved in the scene apart from playing in The Plot?
Brandon: Well, just like any other city, the majority of bands in San Diego are total bullshit. We have a few inspiring bands and I go see them. I don't want to be fake though. I'm not going to go watch some band I don't enjoy just because we're from the same city. Of course, I give credit to anyone who plays music. Just because I may not like a band doesn't mean I don't think they're valid. The other issue is we are on tour half of the year and the other half we have to spend working ourselves ragged at our jobs to be able to afford to be on tour. We don't make tons of money on the road, so if we're going to be gone for two months, we need to have two months of bills and rent figured out before we leave. When I'm home I'm usually too tired to go to shows. Brian: I try to go see my friends play whenever I can. I'm not really much of an organizer or anything like that, but I like to buy my friends' records or maybe play with their bands. After touring a lot this year, there are a lot of times when going to a show doesn't seem like such a good idea anymore. I like to watch all of the bands on a show just to show support, but I haven't really seen much lately that gets me excited. I think the best way we can support bands we like is to play with them and tell other people about them.
Chuck: I think we still do our part to support the scene; I work at a record store and set up in-store performances; Brandon is a substitute teacher for the mentally-challenged; Brian is drop-dead gorgeous and when he does leave his house he is mobbed by handsome men and women of all walks of life; and Willy works at a s&m sex shop.

Q: I heard there was some sort of censorship with your artwork? Care to explain?
Brandon: There was no censorship of our artwork.
Brian: That's probably normal procedure for any band. Maybe someday we'll put something out ourselves and make it as nasty as we want it to be. I like raunchy and disgusting perversion a lot, but a lot of record stores won't put that kind of thing on display. Also, there are kids out there who shy away from confrontation. We have to make adjustments, just like everyone else. Mostly though, we have to make it acceptable for the four of us--that's primary.
Chuck: None of it has been censored. The album has a strong aesthetic that is prominent through the lyrics, art, and music. It’s just a reaction to the political and punk scene climate.

Q: Is that why you made fun of Gorilla Biscuits in your first song?
Brandon: No.
Brian: I guess you can look at it several ways. Some people have responded very negatively to it, while others were delighted. Maybe it's an homage in disguise. We like to stir shit up.
Chuck: We are not making fun of GB. I think we just wanted our Revelation album to be a real piss on somebody who holds so tightly to something that has gone and passed. Punk and hardcore has changed, wake up and make it dangerous again.

Q: Final comments?
Brian: Listen to Rock Goggle Fantasy. Thanks, Ryan.

Interview with Adam Gnade.

This is an interview I did with Adam Gnade maybe two years ago? It was right before his collab with Youthmovies [Honeyslides] came out. It was supposed to be in a zine I was doing called E Texas Ave, but that fell through, but I think this interview needs to be read. I'm sorry it took so long Adam.


Q: So I heard you don't use a cell phone? Was there any inspiration behind this?

AG: Thing was I found myself complaining about being dependent on cell phones. I was always telling people that I couldn't imagine doing without one and that the thought of not having one made me feel unsafe, BUT that just a few years ago, nobody had 'em and we did fine. So, one day I gave my phone away. People look at me pretty weird when I tell 'em I don't use one.

Q: You have said before that traveling is cathartic, but you're afraid that the root cause is you running away from problems or situations. Do you still feel the same way? Are you planning on settling down in one particular city?

AG: I go back and forth on that one. Flight or fight, healthy or unhealthy, it's just a judgment call. In the end, you've got to follow your heart and sometimes getting the fuck out of Dodge is the best—and only—option. Still, nothing beats looking the fucking beast in the eye. Y'know, the ol' stare into the void until it stares back into you. I do a lot of both. A lot of leaving bad situations. A lot of sticking it out and trying to make something of it. As far as settling down, I'm sure I'll settle down one day—I'm actually looking forward to it—but there's too much I still need to see. Anyway, all the places I want to settle down in are quiet places, and right now I need noise. Someday it'll be a good ol' shack somewhere back in Virginia. Lots of guns, some pitbulls, a pickup truck, and a nice porch to sit and drink gin and watch the fireflies. Really, I can't wait. The South's been calling my name for a while.

Q: Do you fear the inertia that is inherent in settling down, or are you looking forward to embracing it?

AG: I figure by the time I settle down it'll be to do the serious work it'll take to write the books I've got up in my head, the ones that take quiet and solitude. I imagine I'll be so busy I won't even notice.

Q: As a writer, do you feel that with the replacement of books by internet and television as universal sources of entertainment, that the end of literature as we know it is in the horizon?

AG: I'd rather literature as we know it die out and die out as fast as possible. From the rubble of it, the real stuff will come and it'll be better than anything that came before. Do we really need Oprah telling us what to read or a million books by celebrity chefs? Let it burn. Half the writers I know aren't alive anyway. They're just observers … sleepwalking through their lives and writing about living instead of actually doing it. Writing's a poor substitute for living.

Q: I couldn't agree with you more with the death of modern literature. But do you think if that ever happened, people would wake up and start reading again? I fear that the dumbing down of this nation will be the cause of it, or perhaps a Fahrenheit 451 type scenario will ensue.

AG: People have to start thinking again before they start reading again. You gotta change your life before you change the way you live it. But yeah, America is an unfriendly place for literature that has any backbone. Maybe good writers'll become outlaws again and be looked on as scum like they were in Shakespeare's day. Then there would be some stories to tell, some good writing—because you can't write anything good without a little trouble in your life. And that trouble's gotta be real. You can't go out and seek it and make it happen, make your own spectacle; it's gotta be natural and when it hits, you'll probably want anything but that trouble. But at least it'll be real and you'll be living a real life. What kind of books are you into?

Q: Well, I am more a classics man. I love Twain and Bradbury, but there is this great book by this guy named Robert McCammon called Boys Life. It is all about this small sleepy town, and how everyone's life intertwines. I love those type of books, I think that is why Dandelion Wine and Huck Finn are in my top ten books. They are just so full of life, and have a little magic tucked inside of them waiting to be discovered. How about yourself?

AG: I've been reading a lot of Twain too. A lot of his essays. Oh, and I just finished Puddn'head Wilson, which is one of my favorite things he did. How do you think Twain would go over if he lived and wrote during our time?

Q: I think Twain might go over a little bit better these days if he kept his style. He had a very left leaning liberal view regarding government/religion, but then again, in this post 9/11 era, who is free to say things like that in major publications anymore? And after Imus & Dog The Bounty Hunter, imagine what people would think of Huck Finn? I would say he might be extremely villified if he lived in our time, and I am not sure if his books would be universally loved as they are now. What's your take on Orwell? How chillingly similar is America coming to 1984?

AG: I'm the only person I know who hasn't read any Orwell. I mean, just existing in this world, I've had the whole thing paraphrased to me by a dozen people, but I still haven't read him. You told me, off-interview, that you felt the same way as I do about cell phones but about the internet. So, I guess for the sake of the readers--this is now an official turning of the tables, huh?--please explain yourself.

Q: I feel that the internet is creating a voyeuristic society who puts more substance into who has more online friends than they do in real life. It is slowly killing human interaction. Social gatherings have fallen away and given way to chat groups. People put more effort into cultivating a false image of themselves through myspace or facebook than they do into learning about what is going on around them. If people put more energy into doing constructive things than talking to people through binary, we could potentially have the next Fitzgerald or Camus or Dylan.

What is the first book that you can remember falling in love with?

AG: Wow, I guess that would ... probably be To Kill a Mockingbird. That was the first time I can remember hearing the author's voice and feeling a rhythm to words. More than that, though, was the sense of place, which has, since then, been one of my favorite things about a good book. I guess I was ... maybe 10 years old. Though I remember reading Harriet the Spy even younger and feeling mood from prose for the first time. There was a sentence in that one that--for this tiny little fragment of time--made me feel the temperature in the air and gave me this uncomfortable kind of preadolescent ennui I'd never felt before. Because of words, I was experiencing the character's frustration and confusion and it felt like mine for no real reason, because, y'know, I wasn't affaid and I wasn't frustrated but I felt it, and that gave me a pretty big shock to the system.

Q: You have been tagged as one of the "new weird america" artists? Do you feel any kinship with the other artists lumped into that scene?

AG: Yeah, I've got that a lot, but I don't feel like I'm a part of any scene. Plus, any time you get too deep into a scene, the life you're living is a false reality. If you want to have any decent stories to tell you're not gonna get 'em hanging around other storytellers. You gotta go out and live with people who are actually dealing with life on a firsthand, first-name (as in knowing life) basis, not working on their new haircut or spending all their time at shows or studying their favorite artists to the point that they're living somebody else's life. Like, I know a lot of people who know so much about certain artists that their own periods or stages or whatever you wanna call 'em are nothing more than photocopies of their heroes' periods. For instance, you watch your folksinger buddy go through Dylan's Guthrie/hobo stage and then he's grown his hair out and he's living Dylan's reclusive Woodstock stage and then he's moved on and he's wearing eyeliner and white face paint like the crazy-era-Dylan and freaking out over the "fame" and he's never even had any fame to deal with in the first place. It's make-believe. People keep make-believe living these cultural archetypes and while I'm sure it's fun—like playing dress up—it's not real. You gotta live your own life. I guess we've all done it to some degree, but the point is you gotta realize you're doing it and stop. It's tough. So much safer to be somebody else and not have to make any mistakes.

Q: Is it still possible to write meaningful songs that are lived in and comfortable without resorting to vacuous pop songs or trite lyrics either about failing relationships or the horrible job our government is doing?

AG: Definitely. It's very possible. There's always going to be somebody that stands up and says what we need to hear and says it the right way. I'm probably not the right candidate for the job—my shit's just not commercial—but there are some good ones out there, people that tell it like it is and say it well. Most people, whether they know it or not, love truth. We just need to find people that'll give it to us and say it pretty and without a lot of fuss. Springsteen did it on "Thunder Road." He nailed it to the fucking floor. Jeff Mangum too. I think Deer Tick'll probably give us some life-changing records. Probably Viking Moses too.

Q: How do you feel about the ethics of modern punk? Do you feel that social networking sites, mainly myspace, has watered down the diy ethic that used to be inherent in our scene? Or do you not care about that at all?

AG: Punk doesn't concern me. All punk is--as a subculture or a scene--is bored people getting up in each other's business and not governing their own lives. Culture, scenes, subcultures, counterculture, all of it is negliable. I'm trying to survive and keep the people I love safe and happy and enjoy my life. The rest is just fringe bullshit. The DIY ethic as a movement or culture is an illusion because everybody handles it differently--there's no collective consciousness. I do things myself in my own way and I'm proud of them. People can handle theirs however they want. It doesn't concern me how people I've never met handle the release of their CDs or books or zines. I won't get selfrighteous on 'em. Now, I'd like 'em to make their stuff good, just so I have something decent to listen to or read, but that's just surface level stuff. In the end, it's just art, and art is beyond secondary to things like love and food and sleep and living a rich, full life. When we're on our death bed, all this time we spent bitching about bands or doing myspace or caring about other people's art is going to hurt, it's going to seem like wasted life. I'd rather find a lake and go swimming in it with some good people--or even by myself. Maybe eat a good meal, play some banjo, and drink some wine on the shore. That's what's real in the long run.

Q: Have you always felt this way, or is this a recent change for you?

AG: I feel that way now, but I haven't felt that way forever and I'll probably feel different in the future. The more I try and figure out how all this works, the more I change and contradict my own theories. I'm sure I've changed my mind--and drastically--just over the course of this interview. I guess that's why you shouldn't listen to artists when we talk about anything other than art. We're all petty and scared and motivated by dubious agendas and pushed by old traumas and issues and we're all looking for a little solace and meaning in this fucking vicious birth-life-death cycle. It's probably why we make art in the first place. We aren't philosophers or great thinkers or anybody that should be taken at all seriously. We're just scared kids trying to find some kind of life for ourselves while the bombs drop. The ones that work hard and live honest might find something. We'll all die anyway, so I guess it's a moot point. Better to find that lake and swim in it while the sun's still out.

Q: People describe you as a dreamer. How do you keep hope alive in a world that leads one to nihilistic thougts?

AG: It's better to not think about abstract concepts like hope and instead find what makes you happy in that moment and run with it. Live according to what you desire in that instant. It makes for a more transitory life--and probably a harder one--but you won't worry as much because you'll be really living. Hope's just the positive side of worry anyway. I'd rather be more realistic and try and satisfy my desires as they come to me. I'd rather be a sensualist than a dreamer any day. There's more pay-off.

Q: Are you ever fully content with your life?

AG: Sure. I mean, I go back and forth, but who doesn't? I'm content right now.