Electric Six - Oxford, UK, Spring 2003
By: Toby L
There aren't many songs around where you distinctly remember the precise time and place you first heard it. Yet, simply, there aren't many compositions quite as sensational as Electric Six's debut of early 2003 - the shimmering, disco-rock-punk-pop slice of seedy, grubby naughtiness of 'Danger! High Voltage'. And, honestly now, who'd have guessed that they'd still be with us months later, ready to follow it up with something quite as outlandish, hilarious and - simply - genius as the charging throttle of 'Gay Bar', their second single.
'GIRL! I WANNA TAKE YOU TO A GAY BAR... GAY BAR... GAY BAR!'
OK, so they don't 'do compassionate'. More than anything, the Detroit quintet's initial, shameless stab at the hit-parade was a marked return to a rarely-reared concept in rock 'n' roll - get this, kids: fun. None of the dressing-room tantrums, nor 'yeah, man' dreariness of ill-thought-out interview-quotes. A band simply with the sheer, overriding notion to produce soundtrack-music for the best party in the world, without losing the concept of creating lasting tunes along the way... Novelty for the refined, you could almost deem it.
Thankfully, their debut-LP 'Fire' is littered even further with such matter. In equal doses bizarre, shocking, hilarious, absurd and joyous, its cheeky ridiculousness is both sexy and demented, whilst its sheer irreverence makes it altogether more challenging than Radiohead.
But it didn't always come this easy. Bred in '96, residents of a Michigan scene consisting of uninspired musos too stoned and uncreative to spawn anything other than yawn-inducing stabs at psychedelia, The Wildbunch (as they were then known, a name-change soon ensuing due to legal-kafuffles) were happy being different, playing shows ridden with inane light-shows and low-brow theatrics to a reasonable response. Come the 21st Century, and XL Recordings sees the broader potential for this irony-tinged set of marsupials - and the rest is irrelevant.
Documented whilst part of their debut, headline UK tour (proper), all five/six members of the band - inclusive of mysteriously silent keyboardist, Tait - are hounded and rounded into their dressing-room for the night; and just prior to the conversation, the combo's vocalist shakes the hand of rockfeedback, prior to uttering, 'My name's Tyler... But, for the purposes of the interview, I'm Dick Valentine.' That such an action was oddly suspicious - let alone peculiarly arousing - paid testament even more-so towards the deep perplexity of E6.
'We do feel that we've paid our dues, so to speak, but we don't feel that those dues necessarily led us to this point,' opens Valentine, on the matter of the band's recent foray into notoriety. 'We could still just as easily be back playing the same places in Detroit...'
Suddenly, a raspy, implausibly deep husk of a voice booms across the room's four walls. Oh, it's only guitarist, Surge Joebot. 'There's no such thing as earning or deserving stuff,' he ponders, adding curiously, 'The universe is very random, as all this proves. We're probably a better group now, and it's possibly made us more interesting than where we were six weeks into the band... I hope, at least.
'Back then,' Joebot continues, reminiscing, 'the scene in Detroit was really... kinda... Well, there was a big post-rock thing going on. And being more a rock band was considered silly, stupid or whatever, and that simply made the idea of rocking out that much more appealing.'
'I mean,' grimaces Dick, 'there's even a band from there called Christ-Puncher...'
The Rock 'N' Roll Indian shuffles in his seat, lighting a cigarette. 'A lot of the bands around when we started out, were very arty or shoegazery... No-one would get a show when you went to see these bands. We always made sure we were doing something interesting.'
'At the same time,' Surge returns, 'there was always a bit of a traditional, underground base of R 'n' B, original rock 'n' roll guitar-band stuff; it's great ya know, but it can be really orthodox.'
And it's the band's intense fear and hatred of the 'orthodox' that results in such nonsensical bites of sound as the rollicking 'Electric Demons In Love', or Queen-esque stomp of 'Dance Commander': the rabid, raving alternative to the mundane, and ingredients that have denoted many of the band's already memorable encounters.
Bassist Disco gets nostalgic. 'Recording at Abbey Road was simply amazing...'
'Well, yeah,' nods Surge, cringing mildly, 'but we busted two amps, so we mostly played ping-pong.'
'I didn't think it would impact me at all, being there,' enthuses Dick. 'But you just get inside that room (the legendary Studio Two), and there's a feeling. It's really awe-inspiring.'
'It was really strange,' agrees Disco. 'I don't think I've ever walked into a place quite like that and felt that way...'
'Except for that strip-joint we went to,' reminds Joebot, dampening the moment somewhat. 'That had a similar feeling.'
'Oh yeah...'
'The best part was we took a dinner-break, and lost our bearings on how to get back,' grins Valentine. 'But we did get back to the corner of a turning where it said 'Abbey Road' on a sign, and Surge was just like (adopts cool, laid-back voice), 'Hey, dude - don't worry; it's on this street...' (Laughs)
And the record that resulted from such, seemingly, intensive sessions?
'Well,' declares Dick, 'it's twelve different versions of 'Danger! High Voltage' (the room sniggers). Sadly, it isn't, but it is the most efficient recording we have ever done.'
'Yup,' confirms Surge, 'we had charts and maps placed all over the studio, literally. And lists.'
'Lots of diagrams,' notes drummer M.
The Indian stirs once more. 'It's just much bigger than anything we've done before.'
Surge: 'We wanted things to sound the way they're sounding now, but you can't really do that on an eight-track.'
'... And, with the money we were making, it wouldn't have been possible for them to come out this way otherwise,' reasons Disco. 'They are the strongest tracks we've ever recorded.'
Dick remains ever-considerate. 'I think even the way we play live is a very good representation of the record.'
Surge: '... Although you get a lot of people, especially in America, that go, 'You guys don't look like what I thought you'd look like,' or, 'You guys are fat and ugly!'
'Funny,' laughs Disco, 'because up 'til recently, everyone was expecting us to be like The Strokes.'
Dick leers. 'Yeah, one heckle was, 'Wait - you're not wearing converse or a jean-jacket!'
Because you're so individualistic in your band's stylisation, do you feel it's harder to establish yourselves?
'Not at all,' M dismisses; 'we'd rather be like that than Nickelback or some shit. I don't even know what they look like...'
The R 'N' R Indian then mumbles an offensive insult as to what they look like.
Though what about your pseudonyms..?
'We're just following the boy-band model, and we're applying it to rock,' remarks Dick, deadpan, gravely and monotone. 'And that way you can pick your favourite member, or only care for a couple of them, so you - essentially - have a member for everybody. It's just appealing to the demographic. As opposed to having a band where everyone simply looks the same - here, we're giving people the opportunity to like just one-fifth of the band, and not feel embarrassed by that.'
And your specific roles?
'I bring women, and a lot of girth to this band,' quips The Rock 'N' Roll Indian, predictably dirtily.
'For me, I don't know, it depends on the day,' contemplates Joebot. 'Today - it was news: I was the first to hear about that space-shuttle evaporating, so I jumped right on the cell-phone and called The Sheik (the group's guru and manager). But it was a bad line, so he kept going, 'What?! I can't hear anything!' So I was just like, 'Oh, alright - forget it.'
'I think I bring the self-defence,' asides M.
Dick is far less comfortable in his predicament, however. 'People just wanna get with me, 'cos they see me as their ticket out. People look at me and see me as their cash-cow.'
Considering the band's success occurring, at first, overseas amidst European territories rather than their home-states, does it feel in any way disorientating to be celebrating hit records in foreign regions outside of native waters?
'It is weird,' concedes Surge. 'But in the broader context of our lives, a lot of weird shit happens to us all the time. It always has, so maybe this is one of the more weird things that has happened. It's not as if our weird lives have been disrupted - this is just all part of that.'
'How come we always get to this point; we have so much strange stuff that has happened to us, yet we can never remember it,' utters the Indian, stuck for examples of the band's overhanging oddities.
'There's someone getting shot at with a shotgun,' references Joebot.
'And cars crashing into the lead-singer of the Von Bondies' car,' recalls Disco.
'Oh,' Surge ignites, 'and there'll also be bands we're hanging out with at shows, and then they'll die in the same night... We wish that would stop in a way; I just want a quiet life... I don't want any trouble... When we go out to breakfast and someone says the dude we were hanging out with is dead on your best friend's lawn, that's a drag, you know?'
Er, 'a drag', indeed. What helps you persevere through such dark times?
'I like to drink,' announces our Rock 'N' Roll messier. 'And have sex with furniture.'
Joebot: 'I laugh... ten times a day, at least.'
What with such occurrences, views and, of course, those lyrics, are you worried of people not viewing the band in earnest?
There's a momentary silence, following which, M is the first to speak up. 'At the end of the day, the music we're putting out now, and in the near-future, rocks.'
'We take it seriously,' insists Disco, 'but if someone else doesn't, I can't control that. We'd probably be taken more seriously if we sounded like The Stooges or the MC5.'
'I mean, I think there's a lot of humour in certain parts of The Stooges' music, but the very reason we got together and our approach is what it is, we didn't necessarily want to be purist or take this too seriously,' Surge defines matter-of-factly. 'It's not this sacred thing that people try to make it out to be - it's just fun.'
'With all these post-grunge bands around at the moment, there's also such a lack of personality,' rasps Dick.
'Well,' cogitates The Rock 'N' Roll Indian, 'I think The Cheeky Girls have a lot of character.'
'It's improved from three years ago,' adds Surge, 'when they were trying to convince everyone else that rock was dead and that sounds from turntables were the only valid music being made. It's better now.'
Shockingly, the band seems to be restrained; maybe it's time to pander to their intellectual, probing views on philosophy: just why are we all here?
There's a pause.
'Erm,' croaks Joebot, 'why are we in Oxford?'
No - the world, the universe: how did it get here?
A further pause.
Dick accepts defeat. 'Er, we don't touch that kind of stuff.'
'Well, let me get a beer and we'll see,' Surge guffaws, suddenly finding inspiration.
Dick: 'Actually, as the night goes on and we get more drunk, we actually come up with very solid arguments for why we're not really here.'
Disco's eyes light up. 'Unless there's a giant pile of cocaine...'
M grins. 'Then we get philosophical...'
The tone lowers itself, Surge returning to participate. 'I was watching 'The Empire Strikes Back' once at a party, and, little by little, everyone else was passing out. And I watched it all the way through, and by the end, I was drunk as shit. And then suddenly - the answer of everything came to me, and I thought, 'I should probably write this down, but I'll remember this, because it's huge.' But then, the next day, I obviously couldn't remember it. But the weird thing - when I meet new people, we're just talking and stuff, and then two or three people have already said to me the exact same thing happened to them...'
'Always when watching 'Empire...', questions M to his band-mate.
'Yup - only 'Empire...' I don't think you're gonna get that with 'The Phantom Menace'.'
Cue a huge, rambling 'Star Wars' debate.
We'd better round this up shortly - the conversation's swaying towards childhood exploits in too worrying a fashion; so the forthcoming year: in brief.
'Making a video-game, that'll be fun,' dreamily responds Surge. 'It's gonna be for our website, a classic style - 'Pitfall'-type thing, with every character in the band.'
The Rock 'N' Roll Indian exerts yet more evidence of his chillingly relaxed demeanour. 'It's cool - but it's always been his (points to Joebot) life-long dream.'
M is emphatic on another potential presenting itself. 'We're just waiting for Dick to kick out the clichéd, 'lonely-band-on-the-road' type ballad, and we'll then tackle that.'
'It's all just so hard...' Dick confirms, in an unnerving whine.
The R 'N' R man gets feisty. 'I really like that female guitarist in Ash (we inform him of Charlotte Hatherly's name). Yeah, she's so hot. I'd like to get something going with her pretty soon... Charlotte, if you read this - I am as sleazy as I look.'
What about the level of the shows you're presently performing - would an increase in venue-size here and there go amiss..?
M is defiant. 'I'd hate to play an arena.'
'If we could play somewhere that'd incorporate a shit-load of pyrotechnics, that'd be great,' fantasises Disco.
Dick cocks an eyebrow. 'With a lot of fire...'
'Right now, we're just focussing on playing well,' straightens Surge. 'We did have a lot of flashing stuff in the past, where we'd have all the effects for an arena-rock show, but we'd do it in a small club, with explosions and robots and Jordanians onstage, and shit.'
R 'n' R: 'But people started getting like, 'Hey guys, you're just doing all these explosions and whatever - but why don't you just play?' But then it'd be like, we'd play normally, and people would come up to us and say, 'Hey! Where's the show - and all those Jordanians?'
Valentine finds the ideal balance. 'As long as we pick up a guitar in the next year that shoots fire-balls, I'm happy.'
So, to those uninitiated as yet to the mighty allure of the 'Six...
'They should look at the line-up,' outlines Dick, 'and realise there's two guitars, bass, drums, vocals, a synthesizer - and they should expect to react accordingly.'
'And, often,' declares Surge, his lips arching a smirk, akin to a hungry feline at last being granted its second bowl of milk for the day, 'some of these instruments are even played at the same time.'
No kidding; after all, just how else would Electric Six have set alight to the rock-scene in as catastrophic and dynamic a means as they have to date? They're on fire, alright - a blaze unlikely to be put out any time soon. Get burnt, get drunk, get down.
Since this article, Disco, Surge Joebot and The Rock 'N' Roll Indian have all left the group; we wish all the best as they continue in their future music-paths. Electric Six will remain with Dick V, M and Tait Nucleus, plus three new entrants.
Artists in this article: Electric Six