... And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead - London, UK, Summer 2002
By: Toby L
Some days are meant to be cherished, a legacy left in their aftermath. Certainly, by practice, Texas' ... And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead understand and work alongside such a belief. Confused? Read on...
When walking around the Crystal Palace Sports Centre in South London one particularly scorching summer's afternoon, the necessity and sheer compulsion of TOD to record anything and everything remotely of interest via video-camera becomes almost amusing to any observant outsider. Yet, justifiably, today is important to them - a moment in time when they come face-to-face with, effectively, one of their most momentous influences, the Sex Pistols, who have arranged this stadium-venue to be the re-convening of aggressive, age-old punks and angry youngsters, joint in a celebration of John Lydon and co's significance in punk 25 years ago. Playing support to the heroes, Trail Of Dead understandably feel honoured.
Yet, the chances of such similar memorials and respect being paid to TOD in the decades to come are far more than a distant possibility. An act that have continually shocked, surprised and enthralled during their time in music so far, critics and fans alike have been riveted by countless live-shows that by their closing often see as much equipment in the audience as on stage, and silenced by the deafening amount of venomous energy and dynamic vision as demonstrated within their three albums to date. And, notably, with their latest-LP, 'Source Tags & Codes', reactions have intensified to dangerous proportions - in fact, to the extent where the mainstream is desperate to be a part of the craze.
And, so, to accommodate the masses, a low-key shift-over to a major-label was enabled (Interscope), a tour with Queens of the Stone Age has just literally drawn to a close, and rumours of daytime radio-domination are now more serious than ever... But, whereas anyone else could be seen as a shameless sell-out by subscribing to such perks following such succinctly-recognised grass roots and considerable control, the 'Dead still have input into all their creative surroundings - promo-videos, artwork included - and manage to hit as hard as ever before. Indeed, the only difference now is that they can probably afford to eat a bit more easily.
But, back to today, and we are effectively in the privileged position of being granted the permission to chase/stalk/follow one-half of the band throughout the course of the daytime and evening - the two guitarist/drummer/vocalists, Conrad Keely and Jason Reece, leaving both bassist Neil Busch and guitarist Kevin Allen to roam free and safe.
Eventually, we corner the twosome for an interview, but the choice of locations is somewhat limited. On the naive premise that it wouldn't be so busy, we select a cavernous hall in which to speak, a crumpled pole-vault located in our peripheral vision, and dressing-rooms for all the event's appearing artists to our right. We point at a camera situated upon Conrad's knee and ask about its relevance.
Keely is visibly within enigmatic mode. 'A lot of ideas for our songs and the way we see things have been born out of touring,' he drawls in a strangely comforting southern-US accent, explaining the presence of the contraption and how they endeavour to keep track of adventures.
To his side, Jason stirs. 'Yeah, in Einhoven, Holland on this last tour, we saw this strange man in a costume that looked like a bear or something...'
'Oh,' his band-mate enquires, 'you mean those gypsies? Yeah, he looked like Papa Lazarou!'
The fact that they're able to quote the most hideous and horrifying television-character ever created as a reference-point is testament to their mysterious nature... The cryptic sleeve-images, that lengthy, dark name - sheesh, even their piercing stares and black clothes... Accumulatively, it's haunting stuff.
'I think it's easy to find any outlet to express yourself creatively, because there's just this urge that's there,' proceeds Conrad. 'When you've got a camera, it's training yourself to think in that way: to look for the shot, to walk around and always be ready to capture the moment.'
'... Especially today,' agrees Reece. 'Just because of this whole scenario; for us, playing with the Sex Pistols seems downright surreal. When we were younger and just getting into punk-rock, obviously, the Sex Pistols are one of the first bands you latch on to, and we wanted to document this whole day... It's quite historical in a sense.' He then pauses. 'Hopefully, too, this is the last time that they cash-in.'
The suggestion of Trail Of Dead's own sell-out, cash-in reunion prompts excitement for Conrad, the man denoting, 'Bring it on,' excitedly... Oh dear.
But 'til such an occurrence, what about the actual feat of performing; with a typical show, the guys may find themselves confronted with a surge of hundreds or thousands of their own kind in attendance all across the world - however, their challenge in a few hours is to perform in front of considerably more.
'I get nervous,' admits Conrad, 'but - for me - I've always thrived upon that energy; there's been times when I think that, if I'm not nervous, then I don't play as well as I could do. It helps me to psyche myself up, but I don't think I've ever been nervous to the extent where I haven't been able to play - it's always been an energising feeling.'
'Sometimes, the more nervous you get, the better the show might be,' discloses Jason, 'just because there's all this adrenaline, and it releases itself when you're on-stage.'
And how is this heightened with outdoor shows, such as today's, or festivals in general?
'It's a challenge,' nods Conrad, 'but you have to overcome that barrier - you just have to do it mentally or whatever: you can't allow 20-feet or a steel-barrier in front of you to stop you from expressing yourself.'
It's such wise, brave words that impassion so much of their produce; even if half of their shows were just stand-still and didn't evoke a euphoria that could inspire revolution on a mass-scale, it's still likely that you'd come away as emotionally-drained and excited as you resultantly do. But the instrument-trashing - it's just so common; what guarantees have fans got that it's not pre-meditated or contrived?
'Most of the time, it feels ritualistic, that it's part of it all,' explains Jason. 'We don't always trash our equipment - we've been without doing that for tons of shows before, but - when we play a place like London, where the crowd is up for it - they inspire you to react a certain way...'
'Yeah,' agrees his associate, 'it definitely has a lot to do with the crowd's reaction... What they are feeling for that instant in time. We've walked offstage with everything intact before; sometimes, it just doesn't seem necessary to trash everything.'
Jason looks to the ceiling, displaying signs that he's trying to derive some data from his experience-drenched mind. 'I can remember this show we did in Nottingham at the Boat Club: it's this really small place, but it was a very aggressive show, and it was completely out of hand... But, I don't think we really trashed anything.'
'There wasn't any need to,' adds Conrad.
'Exactly,' Reece enthuses, before frowning. 'But our bodies were being trashed at that show, anyway...'
Bodies getting trashed in a different context, in spite of being deemed the bearers of radical musical-ideas and walking-libraries when it comes to discussing history and art, Trail Of Dead are also able to possess the ability to indulge within the pleasure of the 'par-tay'; however, how can the same act be able to convey deep thoughts of significant meaning and then run off down the road with a bottle of Jack Daniel's in hand: surely either action cancels the other out, and weakens the defence?
Conrad shakes his head slowly. 'I don't think either of those are mutually exclusive. Our enjoying ourselves is part of our whole message, which is to live your life to its fullest and be alive. There's so much apathy and disaffectiveness in the world that to live every day as if it could be your last - well, it's just such a timeless, true phrase - but it often gets forgotten.'
And what would Trail Of Dead be up to if they were aware that they were living within their final day?
Keely considers the question, and then recalls the heaving mass of snarling, potentially-riotous attendees located in front of the stage. 'I think we're doing it now,' he exclaims worriedly.
Suddenly, an explosion erupts from the arena. It's New York City's The Rapture; they've just arrived on-stage, ready to exude their killer-mash blend of disco-inferno rock-anthems. Naturally, we agree to resume the interview at a later stage in the day, and work our way to the side of the performance-area to catch a sight of the action; predictably, the band yield a camera and begin filming. Time soon passes, music ends, and ways are parted.
Before long, we bump into Jason again, but - this time - he's alone. 'Conrad's not feeling so hot,' he reveals. 'In fact, he didn't get any sleep last night, so he's in the dressing-room, trying to recover.' So, we venture with Jason back to the same spot as before in order to wrap up topics, and it provides a good chance to get to the essence of the band's most animated character, and a man who incessantly seems to be linked to most of the group's equipment-damage.
'We've always been this way,' he starts up, commenting on that destructive aspect of their work again. 'And it's always cost money out of our pocket. When we had to work 9-to-5 jobs, it was definitely very trying at times. Sometimes we couldn't play a show for months because we'd have to find equipment. We've also had all our equipment stolen from us before.'
Yes, sadly so - luck has often hovered just out of this foursome's view from time to time, prompting Jason's explicit reminiscing of one of their worst encounters to date.
'Quite recently, in Manchester, we got attacked by a gang - a bona-fide gang. There were weapons involved - they were just soccer-hooligans, skin-heads... I couldn't really tell, and we didn't quite know why they were attacking us. It was late at night, we were about to leave with a band that played with us that night, The Vue, after hanging out in a bar, and this doorman let these guys in - five of them - and they proceeded to nearly... kill the doorman; they were beating him with brass-knuckles and kicking him. Our sound-guy stepped in and they hit him over the head, and then the drummer of The Vue, Raphael, stepped in, too.
'It was really dark, though,' he continues, 'and you couldn't tell what was going on. They soon hit me on the face and knocked one of these teeth out (points at mouth). They then took off, and so I went to a kebab-shop with several guys from The Vue and I came out just thinking to myself about it all, 'Just what the f**k is going on?!' Everybody was like, 'No - don't even think about chasing them down the street!'
'But they came back in their car! We just started throwing rocks and bottles or whatever we could find at it, and they tried to run us over! It was crazy - like a movie! The car cornered me and the bass-player from The Vue and we just went straight at them: we had to - there was no choice...
'I then just remember the bass-player sending his fist flying and taking on four guys at once and I followed right behind him, but then I got hit in the head by this pipe... I nearly lost consciousness. But, just when things were about to get even more scary, all these cops came and broke it up, and the car jetted off, leaving this one guy there. He told them that we were attacking him! But, the worse thing, is that the cop believed him because that guy was from the area! Overall, they just didn't really care, because it was so futile.'
Despite the shocking description of such events, Reece calms down and rounds off the tale in an almost unlikely, nursery-rhyme innocence. 'Everyone was OK after that, though,' he informs, 'there were just a few black-eyes, a few bruises...' He smiles, with a balance resting on both sincerity and the darkest of humour.
Nonetheless, to spend this quality time with a member of such an important ensemble and not even question the musicality conjured would be a crime. With full-length records that have been akin to a rollercoaster-ride from the gritty outset to the ease-down ending, and songs such as 'It Was There That I Saw You', last single 'Relative Ways' and their populist 'A Perfect Teenhood' morphing hardcore guitars with melodic, beautiful swathes of instrumental intricacy, there's clearly thinking going on here that's not of the norm.
'I think that each song is there to conjure up a mood,' reacts Jason, 'or provoke a certain feeling, and create imagery that you can latch on to, as the listener can sort of grasp on to something that's deeper.' He halts momentarily. 'But some of the songs aren't even that deep - there's a song of ours called 'Bloodrites' that's just about 'Quake' - the video-game. You do also have songs as well that mean more to the writer, though - that maybe have a more significant message, and are a bit more substantial, either inspired by people, or movies, or writers...
'When it comes down to writing, we've always wanted our lyrics to be taken down as literary works, or poetry - so they could just stand up on their own. It seems that the best writers and the best song-writers are the ones that create lyrics that just stick in your head, and make this picture, make you feel something. I've always had a lot of respect for Bob Dylan's writing, but even a band like Sonic Youth - some of their lyrics are really thought-provoking. We try to encompass all the moods that a human-being could have; one minute, you may feel angry and pissed off towards something like the Government, and then the next, you might be celebrating life, or feeling desperate.
'I think we really feed off of human-behaviour,' he finalises. 'I know that some of the lyrics we have written are very personal, or they're very detached; a song like 'Richter Scale Madness' tells you to go and kill, cause a riot and start a fascist-regime - but it's done in a sarcastic, tongue-in-cheek way. Despite that, though, it is a song that - when we play it - it does feel like a 'F**k-you' to everyone. It's just a reflection of a mood - we don't literally want people to go out and murder people. But then you'll have a song like 'Baudelaire', which is about people that get bored of their life - and why get bored with your life? You need to find ways to keep active and keep your mind from becoming stagnant. That song is about the anti-hero, the one that challenges the system.'
... You could say that the song is autobiographical of the band themselves, then...
But, what about that major-label signing? As aforementioned, it shouldn't mark a difference, but to those that are uncertain of the band's intent...
'I think that the only intention for us is to survive,' explicates Reece, sighing gently. 'And to be a band that people can embrace, and not just be a flavour-of-the-month. We want to be a band that has a legacy, and a group that can be considered a true love, as opposed to a one-night-stand... A band that you can always rely on and come back to, and know they're not going to let you down, because what they're writing is coming from the heart.
'Why we went to a major-label was not because we wanted more fame. It was more or less because we needed to make 'Source Tags & Codes', and our other label, not Domino in the UK, but Merge in the United States, didn't really have the resources for us to work with... We don't want to discredit indie-labels, but I think people hold them in such a high esteem that they don't understand that indie-labels are flawed just as much as a major-label. Business is business - either it's done right and everyone gets their fair share, or it's done in a sloppy fashion.'
Fortunately, 'ST&C' was made: a career-best effort, and a work of inspired genius. But, where now in the chapters of one of the alt-world's most unpredictable sets of musicians?
Jason seems stumped at such a question. 'We've been so busy... We've been touring consistently, too... But I think that, this winter, we're going to do a lot of writing.
'I think 'Source Tags & Codes' is definitely more melodic than what we've done before,' he diverts, 'but we're not gonna soften up. Nothing was forced with that record, it was just a natural progression - and we didn't really think about the major-label. In fact, we kinda use our friends as a gauge; we throw a party, and play all the new songs and just let them say what they think! People who have seen you since your inception can be the best judges...' He backtracks. 'Actually, they can be your worst judges!' He laughs. 'I dunno, either way, at least you can get an honest answer from them; they know us as Jason, Conrad, Kevin and Neil - we're just people from Austin, Texas that play in a band!
'Incidentally, with the last record, there was a lot of fear that went into the recording - just the fear of sucking! But that was only because of the expectations on ourselves... It's a tough one because you get a lot of artists that say, 'Yes, what we're doing now is our best material yet,' and then they just suck!'
His observations often ride a certain direction and then - midway - consider the other route; consequentially, this willingness to question even the band's present motions, views and movements may just be what helps to contribute to the act's undeniable, urgent force... Remember, The Beatles didn't win accolade by remaining in the same mindset their whole career...
However, with stage-time brooding the 'Trail, we're running out of time. Sure, it's a cliché to ask what the band's hopes are next as a closing subject-matter, but we're fast losing moments to possess any originality in our line of interrogation - so that's what gets posed.
Jason relishes the chance on this one to state their unified motives, however. 'The point of the band is to write that record that everyone can't deny is one of the more amazing works of art. We have this aspiration to make a record that you put it on and can't stop listening to it - a classic record, you know, like Joy Division, or even Sex Pistols' 'Never Mind The Bollocks' - we want to make a seminal album, something that's our voice, and people remember it as being by the band Trail of Dead: a group that never compromised.
'I hope we just have this cult-status,' he rounds off. 'I don't really care about being famous. I just think that being substantial, to matter, to be relevant throughout the years - there aren't many bands like that, but we want to be in that position.'
For the second time again, we part ways.
The next time we see the guys, they're rousing and driving thousands insane from the stage, Jason terrorising anything electrical in sight, Conrad beating the living daylights out of the drumkit, and Neil and Kevin providing the backbone to the resulting noise. It's a thrilling hour. After smashing their possessions, they march off separately, all delirious grins and mad-dog eyes, the joint expressions suggesting that they enjoyed the experience as much as we did.
But, perhaps the defining moment is seeing Jason Reece at the end of the day; the Sex Pistols are rasping through an implausibly perfect show-closer of 'God Save The Queen' and Reece is at the front of the audience, shouting, jumping, wolf-whistling as manically as he can. And, lodged firmly in his hands the entire time, is a video-camera.
If only ... And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead's legend could be documented so simply by such means.