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Also this issue: Song of Himself Beat Box The Orange Peels Red Bull Music Academy 2002 The Rezillos |
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June 20-26, 2002
music
 SIDESHOW BUZZ: After 16 years in the biz with The Melvins and Fantomas, Osborne (center) says |
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major labels are smarter than indies.
Say what you may about the murky muddle of The Melvins or the slimy Iommi-like roar of its guitarist/leader Buzz Osborne. You can call Osborne’s sludgy, collaged crunch brilliant (as I do) or brain-numbing (as most do). Deem the monster discography he’s put together since 1986 (18 Melvins CDs, two with Fantomas, the experimental metal band he shares with ex-Faith No More leader Mike Patton, and one FantÔmasmelvins Big Band amalgamation) messy to keep track of.
Just don't ever call him lazy or staid.
"If I ever sat around and waited for people, in the music industry especially, to do something for me, I'd be very bitter," says the very happy Osborne, 38, on his cell phone between Nashville and Louisville. "If you can't do it yourself or are too afraid or are waiting for someone to do it for you then you shouldn't be doing this." So begins the lesson.
The most recent of Osborne's works -- the squalid noisecore of The Colossus of Destiny, the stupefying crackle of Hostile Ambient Takeover and the epic cartoony rage of Fant
™
masmelvins’ Millennium Monsterwork (all on Patton’s Ipecac label) -- are the three-legged end table on which to rest Buzz’s Mandrax-to-meth aesthetic.
“These are three things that we’ve never really done or tried before,” says Osborne, comparing his most recent troika to his healthy catalog of previous work. “These three records taken together, or this one period, show we have no fear; that we’re not worried and never will be again.”
It’s nearly impossible to imagine The Melvins worried. In fact, as metal’s mutated bastard boys, the Melvins have tried more brave experiments than anyone in the genre, coming up with dynamic works like 1999-2000’s diverse trilogy (The Maggot, The Bootlicker, The Crybaby), ’87’s Gluey Porch Treatments or their oddly blunt CDs for Atlantic like Houdini and the classic Stoner Witch. Osborne’s insistent experimenting seems a study in complete non-compromise; real take-no-prisoner stuff “compared to everyone else,” he laughs.
“Having so much music to play with gives us freedom. But no experiment ever really works out, strictly, on the creative end. But we come close. I hear it differently than you.” Osborne’s unsure why some have worked better than others. He knows he likes Gluey more now, than then;
knows that
by Houdini he was relaxed and solid in a studio setting; believes that aging -- the curse of most musicians -- has made him better, happier. “There’s more to draw on. I wouldn’t want to relive my teens or 20s. Anyone who does want to is afraid of the future.” The future on Hostile Ambient Takeover shows a distinct linearity without losing a drop of experimental juice.
“Nothing’s changed at all about how we record,” says Osborne about The Melvins’ legendary “20 days in, 20 days out” studio schedule. “What’s absolutely true is that nothing is ever too precious. If we hear it, and it sounds obvious, then we jump right on it. Amusing ourselves is key.”
Being in a state of amusement must have something to do with his collaboration with goofball Patton’s Ipecac label. Osborne’s been with the cream of American indie labels -- C/Z, Boner, Amphetamine Reptile -- as well as Atlantic. “I would never put myself in a position where anyone would or could dictate anything. From artwork to where we record, nothing. Even Atlantic left us alone.”
Still, the differences between Ipecac and Atlantic are obvious: Atlantic’s Ahmet Ertegun never jams with Sugar Ray, but Osborne and Patton record and tour regularly as Fantomas. “I’m a Neanderthal,” says Osborne of creating music with his label’s boss. “He imagines he’s Einstein. Heavy on the imagine.”
Osborne is less jokey discussing independent labels or the horrid idea of “new metal.” He’s incensed by the friendly face indies put on. “They’re too stupid to see what’s a good thing financially and artistically, despite acting as if they want to be in on some new scene or sound. We had two big indie labels who asked us to demo stuff. Demo stuff?! … Indies are the worst scenario: You sign the same sort of contract and contractual obligation as a major but you consistently lose money. If you’re gonna sign, sign to a major. You’ll make money.” Lesson is over. Class is out.
The Melvins play with Isis, Fri., June 21, 9 p.m., $13.50, at theTLA, 334 South St., 215-336-2000.
