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Screaming Trees
by Tom Lanham
Next, June 1996
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
"Sorry," [crunch, crunch] "um, but I'm eatin' some" [crunch, crunch] "uh, cereal right now," marble-mouth mumbles Mark Lanegan as he grabs -- in late afternoon -- the only meal he's remembered to eat all day. "And I'm embarrassed to say, but it's Lucky Charms," he adds, then chuckles over comedian Jerry Seinfeld's repeated assertion that the wanton consumption of kiddie breakfast cereal is a 'guy thing'. A few minutes later, he's growling "God DAMN it!" as a video director phones him from Canada, wanting to discuss more particulars of his current project -- the new clip for Lanegan's bloodied but unbowed quartet, Screaming Trees. This too, is a 'guy thing', and the singer shifts into assertive mode where work is concerned. The band has 10 days to wrap up this production, and Lanegan is definitely feeling the pressure.
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
A couple of details are ironed out, and Lanegan returns to his marshmallow-munching and lazy, laconic drawl, apparently unfazed. Are his partners-drummer Barrett Martin and the burly brothers Conner, bassist Van and guitarist Gary Lee-- sensing the screw's turn as well? Most likely. But that's what happens when your group releases a new album (the dazzling 'Dust' on Epic) after four years away from the ever-shifting alternative scene. The winds of change may have blown, but the Trees have bent with every breeze: 'Dust 'was produced by roots-rocking George Drakoulias, augmented by the mellotron of Heartbreakers keyboard wiz Benmont Tench, and even glossed over with some succulent cello on a couple of numbers. And if you thought this outfit was rooted in the bluesy muddle of 92's 'Sweet Oblivion', guess again: This disc is almost baroque in structure, moving easily from sitar-stringed anthems ("Halo Of Ashes") through swirly, tripped-out psychedelia ("Dime Western") and stark, minor-key madrigals ("Traveler"), to Middle Eastern reworkings of Carter Family-ish folk tradition ("Gospel Plow"). Lanegan's warm, wistful drone and grim, ghostly imagery gives every track its own dark ferrotype tint, like cracked old photographs you stumble across in some dusty attic album.
'Dust' feels like a record that was fated to happen. But was it, really? Screaming Trees have an outrageous rap sheet of fistfights, drunken shenanigans and a well-publicized irascibility that could easily have precluded its members from peacefully working together. Combined with the sparse new direction Lanegan took via his Sub Pop solo forays -- 'The Winding Sheet' and 'Whiskey For The Holy Ghost' -- it was beginning to look as though a comeback bid like Dust was one hell of a remote possibility. But these are just surface appearances. As with the mysterious, scandal-plagued Lanegan himself, it's the truth snaking right beneath the scruffy surface that counts...
Next: After your two aesthetically successful solo albums, it almost seemed like Screaming Trees was a done deal. Guess not, huh?
Mark Lanegan: Guess not. But that was never the point of doing those things-we just had the opportunity to do 'em, so we did, but the band was never in question. And it was never like, 'Gee, I hope I make a million bucks off these solo records so I can quit the Trees.' We never really broke up, and we always had Trees things in the works. The solo stuff was just stuff we did on our breaks.
[ missing question ]
Mark Lanegan: Kinda neither. My parents were pretty anti-organized religion. My father's mother was involved in a cult his whole life, and her whole life, in fact. So he was very anti-religion. On the other hand, my parents were really into letting us kids explore whatever it was we wanted to do, and so as a result, I recall my sister went to the Mormon church for a couple of years 'cause she had good friends who went there. It was more of a social thing, ya know? And we had Catholic friends, so we'd go to Midnight Mass and a lot of Catholic weddings. And when I was real young, I became friends with some guys who were Southern Baptists, and I religiously went with 'em to church for a couple of years, where it was pretty much fire and brimstone. And they had me convinced the world was coming to an end tomorrow, if not sooner. But I got over all that. So now I don't know whose religion it is but mine, ya know what I mean? It's a real personal thing, and it's how I interpret it. I do believe that I have a God, but it's only my God, and luckily my God forgives me a lot and thinks I'm pretty damn funny, so we have a pretty good relationship. But as far as the imagery, for me, a lot of that came from -- obviously -- my experiences as a kid being around all that stuff -- but also from this: The first music that spoke to me in a way that I really understood, and I don't know why, because I'm a middle-class white kid with schoolteacher parents, was old country, Delta blues. And it was all 'Oh Lord' this and 'Oh Lord' that and it was really real, and I certainly understood that feeling. And I think I was so immersed in that kind of music that when it came time to write my own music, it just came out naturally. I mean, that's the way I talk. Lee Conner to this day, when he catches himself saying 'Oh Lordy' it just pisses him off, because he's heard me say it so many times. I think I speak in an old-fashioned way a lot of times because that's the type of music that really does it for me.
Next: Like the song "Look At You" -- it's totally steeped in that vernacular, yet it turns into this almost Eric Carmen/Raspberries grandiose-pop halfway through. And the Trees see the connection between the two...
Mark Lanegan: Well, I like a big hook-y chorus. Eric Carmen is not one of my favorites, but "Go All The Way" by the Raspberries is one of the greatest songs ever. When I first heard that chorus, I was like 'Oh my God!' It's right up there with "Set Me Free" by Sweet. I don't know what Sweet album it was originally on, but it was one of their big hit singles. They were great songwriters themselves, and this was one that Chapman and Chinn didn't write.
Next: Remember "White Mice"? "I Didn't Come Down With Yesterdays Rain" off 'Give Us A Wink'? "Off The Record" was this undiscovered Sweet classic too, with...
Mark Lanegan: Oh yeah! "Stairway To The Stars"! "Lost Angels"! And you know what that falsetto stuff was? They were one of the first bands to use one of those harmonizers that takes those multi-tracked vocals and just ups them, makes them sound so ultra-high. They used it to great advantage -- it was awesome.
Next: As I recall, Sweet's singer Brian Connolly -- after that first Bell album with "Little Willy" -- got his throat kicked in, in a bar-room brawl. Doctors told him he'd never sing again, so "Desolation Boulevard" was this big comeback.
Mark Lanegan: You wanna hear a funny story about Brian Connolly? I was walking through Leicester Square about five or six years ago, walking by the Tower Records there, and there was this huge long line of people, spilling out the door. And I'm thinkin' 'What the hell's going on in here today? There must be some big rock band!' And I walked in and, right inside the door, in full 1970s Sweet regalia, is the original band, including Brian Connolly, who hasn't played with 'em in years. And there he was, and I was like 'Oh my God, it's Brian Connolly!' A best-of video and CD had come out in Britain, but it was weird, because Brian looked so fuckin' old, way older than my Dad who's 62. But yet he was in his blue sailor suit and his makeup, looking especially old. You know Paul DiAnno sings for those guys -- has for several years. Is that not just sick?
Next: From Iron Maiden? I always liked his voice better than Bruce Dickinson's, though...
Mark Lanegan: Oh yeah! They were much, much better then. The songs they did then weren't as good, I thought, but the singing was way better with Paul. But "Run To The Hills", "Icarus", "The Number Of The Beast" -- I thought those songs were really poppy and catchy. But I just wasn't that big a fan of [Dickinson's] singing. One time I was in a restaurant at a payphone having a fight with my girlfriend, long-distance, and these two teenage girls kept peeking around the corner and looking at me. They kept walking by, until finally they stopped and said 'Excuse me?' and I go 'WHAT!' because I'm in this big heavy discussion with my girlfriend. And they're like, 'Did anybody ever tell you you look just like Bruce Dickinson!' And I said 'Oh my God, you've really made my day... thanks a lot!' That was all I needed right then -- Bruce Dickinson.
Next: Which brings up an interesting point. We're talking about this stuff casually, but a lot of people missed the boat on this stuff. I think you had to grow up in small-town America to actually appreciate stuff like REO, Nugent, Aerosmith, and when metal sped up with bands like Maiden and Saxon...
Mark Lanegan: God, I could tell you a story of what happened to me at a Saxon concert and you would not believe it. I didn't meet Biff or any of the band, but it's pretty humiliating. It has to do with me making a total ass of myself in a blackout drunk with a girl who was... Well, I woke up, came out of this blackout and I'm in the bleachers of this speedway where the concert's happening. I come to with my pants around my knees in broad daylight, with this girl who, let's just say, I can't see what got us together, what the attraction was on my part. I don't know how it happened, how I got there, but I was involved in some, uh, HEAVY petting and making out with this woman while Saxon is onstage. And I look down about six or seven rows, and we're in this area of the stands where there's nobody, but below there's about 50 or 60 people I know, all turned around -- not watching Saxon but looking at me and this girl and just laughing their asses off. And that was the last time I drank tequila for awhile.
Next: You were 'Strangered in the night', as Saxon once so wisely said.
Mark Lanegan: It was 'Denim and Leather' that brought us together! But you know who I was really partial to, was Krokus.
Next: Ah yes. "Tonight Long Stick Go Broom".
Mark Lanegan: That's awesome! I haven't heard anybody say that in a long time! I used to love listening to that early in the morning. And you know who they had a real big influence on in our band, was Van Conner. I loved that stuff as much as he did, but he really brought it into the music of the band. He knew how to play that kind of stuff. Lee and I knew how to play punk rock and 60s garage rock and Van knew how to play that AC/DC, Krokus, Priest kinda metal. And Judas Priest -- best show I ever saw! On the 'Electric Eye' tour, when Rob Halford came out on the motorcycle. I think we all come from the same place, pretty much.
Next: How much of 'Dust' is yours, lyrically?
Mark Lanegan: It's real collaboration. I write probably 75% of the lyrics.
Next: Given that, it seems like you question your own existence a good deal on your record. And "Halo Of Ashes" almost sounds like it's about Cobain.
Mark Lanegan: Actually, "Dying Days" was Cobain and several other people that we've lost, all during the time since 'Sweet Oblivion' had come out. We lost three really, really close people.
Next: And it just happened again the other day, with Sublime's vocalist dying and Dave Gahan from Depeche Mode [overdosing]. Why does everyone in rock suddenly think it's cool to visit the H-room?
Mark Lanegan: Have you ever done it? Crank and cocaine is a whole different thing -- heroin is evil, evil, evil, and I certainly understand it too well. But liquor is something I'm notorious for, and I'm a real bad gutter-drunk as well. In London they like to call me a 'low-down evil drunkard,' I think that was the last thing I heard about me.
Next: Like those Bass ads that say booze helps you get to the bottom of things. Artistically, do you find that to be true?
Mark Lanegan: Definitely. The bottom of the fucking gutter. It's good until it turns on you, and my problem is, everything I ever did, I did until it damn near killed me. And then I'd have a long hard fucking fight to save myself from it. And this has been going on half my life, and I'm 31 years old. I first gave everything up one month before I turned 21, and then I did almost eight years without so much as smoking a joint -- I mean, nicotine and caffeine was it. I wouldn't even eat aspirin. Then I fell off when I was 27, and it took me until one month before I turned 31 before I figured that out again. Ten years apart, ad here I am again. Clean.
Next: Have the Conners helped you through it?
Mark Lanegan: The Conners have always been very supportive of whatever I wanted to do, but they've never tried to tell me what to do, because they know that I'll do exactly what I want to do anyway. But they do care about me. I think Van Conner probably cares about me more than just about anybody else ever has. But he also knows that I'm just one of those bastards who's gonna do exactly what he's gonna do.
Next: You sound pretty normal to me. Like you're just trying to figure whit out like everybody else.
Mark Lanegan: Which I am. But I go through phases. I definitely have a Jekyll-and-Hyde thing, a self-destructive side that comes and goes. A lot of it depends on my boredom level or what's happening in my personal life. Like for instance, right now my personal life is great. I'm clean, I have a good relationship, but when I'm at loose ends sometimes the urge comes over me to just get on a motorcycle and just drive to who cares where and see just how far down and deep into the darkness I can get. And I've always been that way, ever since I was a kid. I was exploring things that gradeschool kids should not be exploring, at least not back in the early 70s, ya know what I mean? And not from a town of 13,000. I just have always been drawn to things that most people wait until they're older to get into.
Next: But co-writing as you do, you have to put the ego in check, right?
Mark Lanegan: We let each other pretty much do as we please. A lot of times, if somebody wants to write an entire song, lyrics included, they're gonna have to live with the fact that I'm probably gonna change every word. In fact, I can very rarely sing somebody else's lyrics, because they don't mean anything to me. But since we all do write complete songs, sometimes that's something that just has to be done. But nobody cares that I do it, because nobody's that precious about their songs. We write so many songs, that nobody really cares.
Next: But there's some pretty adventurous stuff on here, like "Traveler", which is almost this minstrel-ish ballad.
Mark Lanegan: We were kinda thinking 'Houses Of The Holy'. But just with the mellotron and stuff.
Next: But it's spoken in Leonard Cohen-isms, in a way.
Mark Lanegan: That's cool. You know, Leonard Cohen is obviously somebody who's a fucking genius in my book. I ran into him on the street one day. I was walking down University Avenue in Seattle, and I saw this really beautiful blonde walk by with this older man. And I turned around to look, and it was this beautiful blonde woman in this really tight jeans, and I thought 'That's Rebecca DeMornay! And Jesus Christ! That's Leonard Cohen!' I just about shit my pants. And there was no-one on the street, and I was thinking 'Do I run down the street and tell this guy what a god I think he is?' And of course, I didn't do a damn thing, because what can you say that he hasn't heard. He's one of the very few artists still alive who still trips my trigger -- Townes Van Zandt, Leonard Cohen, Neil Young.
Next: Given your admittedly pessimistic view, where do you think the world is headed as we head toward the millennium?
Mark Lanegan: You know, I used to be convinced as a kid that the world was coming to an end, so there was no reason to try for anything. Now I don't know what's gonna happen, because since the end of time they've been predicting the end of the world was coming. I think it would be kind of exciting to be alive when it all comes to an end, ya know what I mean? It'd be very exciting to see how much of this stuff that's been written and prophesied and whatnot is true. I'd like to be around to see what's real and what isn't. And ya know, we all gotta go sometime. We definitely know that. So why not be here when it all goes?
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