Pitchfork

I first met Ben Bridwell and Creighton Barrett, the two-thirds of Band of Horses interviewed here, at a party some 10 years ago in Charleston, South Carolina. One of them had just finished having sex with a dark-haired girl in a sliding-door washing-machine closet, but I couldn't tell which one because they both had so many tattoos. Since then, they've moved to Seattle, acquired more tattoos, grown beards, and signed to Sub Pop.

The band recently returned to the Charleston area to begin work on new material. Bridwell, the songwriting force behind Horses' acclaimed debut Everything All the Time, lives in a ranch-style home that will soon be smartly appointed with Georgia Bulldogs football memorabilia. He's just moved in, so only the oblong G doormat is in place. A framed photo of the all-white English bulldog "Uga," wearing a red t-shirt and performing a leaping chomp at a nervous Auburn wideout from the end zone sideline, sits on the hearth waiting to be hung.

After joining Horses in mid-2006, drummer Barrett and guitarist/bassist Rob Hampton, who formerly comprised half of Seattle hardcore band the New Mexicans, relocated to Charleston along with Bridwell this winter, settling on a handsome bungalow/practice-space with firepit in the exurb of Awendaw. It was on a makeshift stage in front of said firepit that Barrett and Hampton hosted an impromptu New Year's Eve performance by songwriter Cary Ann Hearst. Bridwell joined her for a cover of Gram Parsons' "Sin City" to uniform huzzahs.

All in all, things seem to be going pretty well for South Carolina's happiest recent transplants as they finalize dates for a 14-day tour of the Southeast this spring and prepare to enter the studio shortly thereafter to record their second album. The following conversation was audio taped on Bridwell's screen porch while facing an above-ground pool. It was January 6 and 72 degrees. Some might cringe at symptoms of climate change, but not Seattle refugees. They serve micheladas-- cold beers with soy sauce, Tabasco, and half-limes.

Pitchfork: We could start with a quick bowl recap…

BB: Well, during the first half I was feeling really badly about it. I walked outside with five minutes to go in the half and considered leaving, like going home and not even watching the second half. And my brother actually went to bed at that point. But we were talking about how last year in the bowl against West Virginia [Georgia] scored 28 points in the second half and almost came back. So at the half I was like, shit, we need 28 points again. And sure enough, we scored 28 to their three, and we won. I was at my dad's house. And my uncle and his wife came over for it from Athens [Georgia]. But then we were being too loud and we had to calm down because we were waking up everyone in the neighborhood because we were screaming so loud, my uncle, my dad, and I. We were just losing our minds. It was mindblowing. We were all stunned.

Pitchfork: What's your connection to the University of Georgia? Your dad went there?

BB: I've talked to my dad about it and we're not sure if anyone in the family ever actually went there. So I don't want to go saying any of us were Rhodes Scholars or anything.

Pitchfork: Do you ever go to games?

BB: I went to the Georgia Tech game, the last game of the season, and watched my 'Dogs beat Reggie Ball for the fourth year in a row. Send him on his way. We were hoping maybe they could extend it and keep Reggie Ball for another four years, but NCAA rules don't work that way. I think Calvin Johnson, the receiver, he might be gone as well. So yeah, we're excited about football.

Pitchfork: Are you an NFL fan?

BB: Little bit. We'll watch it, right?

Creighton Barrett: Yeah.

BB: Any reason to sit around and drink beer on a nice day. I mean, I'll watch back-to-back baseball games, and you've gotta be pretty stupid to waste your day like that.

CB: We can watch cricket too.

BB: We watched Cricket in Australia. We got into it. We understood it after a while.

CB: Crazy game. Real crazy. Once you understand it, it makes less sense.

Pitchfork: And you told me your uncle heard one of your songs on a bowl game?

BB: Yeah, they were just watching. No one told us-- isn't that nice? They were doing a recap reel of Adrian Peterson, the Oklahoma dude who got hurt. I think he injured his knee or something like that, and he didn't get to play for most of the year or whatever. But he was finally back for that game. I think they got blown out, didn't they?

CB: Yeah.

BB: Was that the Boise State game?

CB: Yeah.

BB: So they were doing like some sort of montage on him or something and decided to play one of our songs in the background.

Pitchfork: Somebody from Capital One's gotta come buy dinner, is that how it works?

BB: No shit, absolutely.

CB: You'd hope so.

BB: I'm not sure if they know how it works, because they didn't really go through the right avenues in doing it. I would have been stoked, too, if they would have busted out a little information about it. All my cousins and uncle and stuff, they'd be watching like crazy. I guess they already were, though.

Pitchfork: The version of "Sin City" Ben sang with Cary Ann on New Year's Eve was good. I'd never heard a dude sing Emmylou Harris's part on that song. Got any other cover projects in the works?

BB: I had this wild idea the other night where I was gonna cover Palace [Music]'s Lost Blues [& Other Songs] in its entirety. I thought about it. I always give the stock answer about why we named ourselves Band of Horses. And I always talk about the Don Johnson thing, about how he had a band called Horses in the 60s, so the label advised us that it might confuse the marketplace. We were called Horses because of that song by Palace on Lost Blues ["Horses"]. When I was homeless in Seattle, sleeping on this Masonic temple's side door, like delivery door, I would sleep there. And I used to get kinda nervous at night, thinking someone would come rob me. And I would always listen to that song. It would zen me out. So that's why I named the band Horses. So I think that should be brought up in this article.

Pitchfork: I think you just did it.

BB: You should also ask us about moving back to South Carolina. There's a little back story there.

Pitchfork: So you two met here years and years ago?

BB: Yeah, I had moved back from Tucson and we were at a party.

CB: I met you at that party.

BB: There was a Dinosaur Jr. song on and we were both totally stoked. We met and became instant best bros. As for moving back to South Carolina this time, I've been bitching about it for so long, even near the end of the Carissa's Wierd days. I just always wanted to come back home. It was rad to get out [to Seattle] and to cut our teeth. We divided, conquered, and left. Finally got to come home and be near our loved ones in this amazing weather and have some country living. It definitely has a positive effect on the psyche.

CB: It's a good place to wake up every morning.

BB: Our friend Chris Wilson is visiting. I really want to get him to take a picture to recreate the South Carolina state flag in a photo for the layout of the new album. We haven't had much luck with it, but we're working on it. I totally wanna beat Hootie's ass for the most South Carolinian band ever.

CB: That's our new approach.

BB: Crossfade, Hootie, we're gonna shoot them all down. Maybe Marshall Tucker [Band] can keep their status.

Pitchfork: Are you really going to be the most South Carolinian band ever?

BB: No, but I'd like to strive for it. Not the most South Carolinian. Just the raddest South Carolina band going, I could handle that. I spent all my high school years here. We had no local bands. We had to rely on Archers of Loaf from up the road in Chapel Hill, like pretend they were from South Carolina just because they had a song called "South Carolina". There weren't too many local bands that I actually dug growing up. They were kinda bad. Not to say that we're good or whatever. But I think it's rad for down here, since kids don't really get too many bands, we can also bring the bands that we like and play here and bring good shows to South Carolina because we have to.

CB: Yeah, exactly. That's what I'm excited about once touring season starts again.

Pitchfork: Real quick, give me the year in review.

CB: It's been amazing.

BB: We had a really good time. Saw Europe, saw Australia.

CB: First time for everybody pretty much.

BB: Yeah, none of us had ever been to Europe, or ever crossed any sort of sea. It was awesome.

Pitchfork: Ben, before that you had a job driving around a van for a while?

CB: He was working with adult mentally-retarded people.

BB: They were a couple of autistic dudes and then some with brain damage. My job was just supervising them while they were at home, make sure they get food and make sure they can go to work. They have to work but have to spend their money so they can still receive benefits. So you have to let them spend the money that they make also or they won't get their medical shit straight, which is kind of fucked up. So the job was to just go everywhere with them in the community.

Pitchfork: When were you able to stop working that job?

BB: Around the time that we were going on our first tour by ourselves, I guess. I don't know. I started living off Band of Horses money for a while, if we had money. Or would have to borrow and then pay it back. And it worked.

Pitchfork: It's nice to be out of the day job and focusing on other stuff, I imagine.

BB: Absolutely.

CB: It's been the most amazing thing in the world.

BB: Yeah, not having to do anything we don't want to do all day. It's kinda dangerous, too. Especially for dudes who like to smoke weed and are comfortable laying down or whatever.

CB: We worked for a while. It's gonna start again.

BB: Now that we're moved and everything and the Australia trip is over and I have this house…there's a nice room upstairs for writing, it's getting really close. The next album is getting closer everyday.

Pitchfork: You're doing it in Asheville, North Carolina, from what I hear?

BB: Yeah, at Echo Mountain in Asheville with Phil Ek. We begin recording early April. I met Jessica [Tomasin], part owner of Echo Mountain and her boyfriend Matt [Gentling, of Archers of Loaf] at our show in Asheville at the Grey Eagle. They asked us to come by and have a beer and we were pretty blown away by the place. It's an old church converted to amazing pro jammer. You should check out their website and take a look. Phil was stoked when he checked it out. We'll probably, just because it can be a bit expensive with flying people around and shit, do some of the overdubbing in Seattle. The studio that we use in Seattle is a little bit cheaper. But for the most part I'd like for a lot of it to get done in Asheville.

Pitchfork: What's on the new record? Have you named it?

BB: Right now there are 10 songs that I would consider serious contenders. Ten songs that are pretty much done. Some of the lyrics might not be done or whatever, but the melodies are set and they have their changes for the most part. I'd like to go in with around 15, so I'm still working on getting some more going. As far as the title goes…what was that one? Pastor of Muppets. And have muppets all over the cover. When we were thinking about doing this EP, I was thinking about it being Pastor of Muppets or, instead of Everything All the Time, calling it A Little Bit Real Quick. But no serious working titles. And all the song titles are like little jokes or whatever. So I need to…that's the worst. Like even with Everything All the Time, I had a hard time. It came down to the last day, I think. They were like, "We have to send off the artwork. What are the titles of the songs?" And I'm like, god, I don't want to do it. I don't want to name them. So no, I don't have any titles for anything really.

Pitchfork: Was the title for Everything All the Time lifted from the Eagles' line in "Life in the Fast Lane"?

BB: That song was playing in the car yesterday. I Saw a Dickhead Sticker on a Cadillac should be the title of our next record.

Pitchfork: Have you been playing any of the new songs live? Some of them are ones people would've heard?

BB: Yeah. We've had some that have been around for a while.

CB: And if you recorded a show, you would probably have them.

BB: One of them we've been playing for a long time. It's called "No One's Gonna Love You". I guess with the other ones, I'll kind of fall in and out of favor with them. Like sometimes I'll start disliking one of them and stop playing it. So it's kind of…sometimes they seem good, sometimes they seem like dogshit.

CB: Well also, we pull them out at like…the shit took off so fast that you don't have time to write. And then we'd have time and we'd work on it before a tour and we were constantly switching lineups, so it's like a lot of time gets geared toward physically teaching people the songs. So before we'd go on tour we'd have to do two covers to make it worth the ticket price because the cd's only 10 songs.

BB: And we don't even play two of them.

CB: That's what you should name the article. "We have 10 songs and we don't play two of them."

Pitchfork: So Mat [Brooke, former member and author of the two songs in question] is out at this point? He left, is that the way it went down?

BB: That's the way it worked.

Pitchfork: And we're good with simply that [for an answer covering the subject of Mat's departure]?

BB: Yeah, we're probably good with that.

Pitchfork: Anything on his role in the band? Are there big shoes to fill there?

BB: Yeah. Mat was not as much of a technical or pro-soloing noodler as he was very unique in the way he wrote his parts and played them consistently well live.

CB: Very big shoes to fill. We've struggled with that one.

BB: Well, I wouldn't say that. At first it was a little bit weird, like it was a little bit confusing in how to make it sound as good as it did. But since then I think we've had lineups that sound even better. So it's been, sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad. But it also stays exciting that way. I don't know. It keeps it fun, and kind of intense, because there's so much practicing you have to do.

Pitchfork: How did Creighton and Rob end up in Band of Horses?

CB: Well, I met Rob in the first band I was in out in Seattle, called the New Mexicans. And we actually played a show with Horses.

BB: It was our first show.

CB: And time went by and the New Mexicans stopped and I was doing another band with those guys and I was doing S with Jenn Ghetto (of Carissa's Wierd). And the guys Ben had playing with him didn't work out, even threw in the towel kind of, I would say.

BB: There was definitely an opening, and I had wanted Creighton in there anyway, so.

CB: I definitely wanted to go in there.

Pitchfork: You wanted to go into his opening?

CB: You've coaxed me into the wrong thing to say.

BB: But we were talking for a while about getting him out to Seattle in the first place, because there were plenty of people who needed drummers and Creighton was looking for a change. And we lived in squalor with a dwarf dog who was bequeathed to us. He was kind of retarded. He would piss constantly. One time he wandered off and it was snowing outside and you could see a trail of piss that melted the snow.

CB: And we gave him to some lesbians. So then I was at a Dinosaur Jr. show and I got a phone call. Ben's on the phone and he said he needed a drummer. Rob came with me. It was a package deal.

BB: It broke up [the New Mexicans' newer project, the Crutches], though.

CB: But they understood.

Pitchfork: Change of pace?

CB: It's a nice change of pace. It's been an awesome assignment. I've learned a lot about subtlety. I try to be subtle. Live, I'm still kind of apeshit.

Pitchfork: You'll get grilled in the studio, I imagine, if Phil Ek is much of a stickler.

BB: Phil's a stickler about everything.

CB: Yeah, so I've gotta do a bunch of shit before I go into the studio.

Pitchfork: Talk about the development of the live show and how you've grown as a band. I remember reading a review early on, and I think the word the reviewer used was "delicate." At first [a live band] can be endearing as a delicate thing, but at some point you want it to be bigger and be more. Where do you feel you are with your live performances and where do you want to be?

BB: Well, over the last year we would use Phil. He would do our live sound sometimes. And that always helps, when you have a sound man that knows what you sound like. But other times every night's like a weird gamble. So that was kind of an issue for a lot of it, because sometimes the house sound guys don't give a shit. Sometimes you get lucky and they actually do care. And sometimes you get real lucky and they actually know your band and kind of have an idea of what they want to make you sound like. Every night's a different little adventure, you know, with how it's gonna go. But as far as the bands and stuff, we've been lucky to have some people who got really good at what they did and really added to a lot of making it sound even fuller than the record, sometimes, or even more rocking or whatever.

CB: And the hardest thing was to try to like…that record's so full and you have to try to have all these layerings.

BB: We had a couple of lineups where it sounded nowhere near the record, but we turned the corner near the end of the year. Got to say thanks to these dudes from this band Simon Dawes, they helped us out. They are really talented musicians and helped us out a lot. They're kinda like pro players, so now we got the bug to have people who can really kick some serious ass on guitar or keyboards. It's fun to have a live show that's just fucking intense and kind of over the top. Because, I mean, if you want the record, you can go listen to the record.

CB: Yeah, exactly, we want it to be as balls out as possible. Then we have slow songs where we drop back down and try to keep it dynamic on stage.

Pitchfork: From what I understand, Everything was culled from the first batch of songs you ever wrote? You hadn't taken a serious crack at writing songs for a record until then?

BB: I had messed around a little bit. I think one time I four-tracked a song…I guess I four-tracked a couple of songs like messing around and Mat would help me out and play guitar. I couldn't play guitar. I still can't play guitar for shit. But never did like any serious writing ever.

Pitchfork: So when you're in that position where you're taking these songs and you've got these guys like Mat and Phil and you've got your own ideas for how you want them to sound, and then you are able to fully realize them on that record, is the sound of the first record the sound that you want to go for again on the next record? Or is it a situation where you want to allow the sound to change with you as you grow as a songwriter?

BB: Well, we're happy with the way the last one sounded. And we kind of write the same way as far as these new songs go. And it'd be kind of silly for the second record to be too far out of the box. I don't know, if it ain't broke…

Pitchfork: How much of the songwriting is a group effort at this point?

BB: Well, for the most part I'll work on the songs by myself before I bring them out. I'm not the most secure with my songwriting to where I feel like I can just bust something out. I'm kind of like nervous about it, so I try to have a pretty good shell of a number before it really comes completely out.

CB: It's a lot easier to do it that ways. Once the skeleton's written by Ben, it's pretty collaborative after that.

BB: Yeah, everyone does their own shit and it usually takes off pretty fast.

CB: It's nice to get them done quick.

Pitchfork: Are you looking to bring in a couple of jocks to fill the sound out live and just have the three of y'all as the band for a while?

CB: We're always trying out new people.

BB: It would be impossible to say what's going to happen. If there's anything that the last year taught me it's that you never know what's gonna happen. But we'll definitely be bringing some dudes in for the live shows. We're hoping to get our friend Robin Perringer, who was the original drummer for Carissa's Wierd, and then was in Modest Mouse and 764-Hero, and then he was working with Elliott Smith before he died…and he's been guitar tech-ing for the Scissor Sisters.

CB: Pixies too, I think, didn't he?

BB: Yeah, and Pixies.

CB: Pretty good gig.

Pitchfork: And he played drums with Modest Mouse for a while?

BB: No, he was a multi-instrumentalist. He'd play some guitar and maybe some things here and there. So he's gonna come in and play some stuff with us. And, yeah, we're still kinda looking around. Like, fucking put an ad out in this interview: "World touring band needs radical players to jammer."

CB: International giggers.

Pitchfork: Everything has this mass appeal. It's interesting to hear such positive response from both the white-belt kids and more straight-laced types. Honky crossover music. How do you feel about the way the record has been received and has it surpassed your expectations?

BB: Well, it's funny, because when we toured with Iron & Wine and saw how well they did, and I felt like our music worked well together on tour, even though maybe we're a bit less talented as far as that goes at times. So I couldn't helped but wonder before the album came out. And I was pleased with it and I thought it had a chance and I knew that Sub Pop would be working for us to sell some records. It definitely crossed my mind. There is a possibility that you can sell 5,000 records, there's a possibility that you might sell 100,000 records. But to land somewhere in the middle of those is an awesome surprise. I can't say I really had any idea that people would take so much, especially to that "Funeral" song. I thought we'd have a different single. I didn't even like that song when were recording it. I didn't want to finish the vocals on it just because I didn't really like it, and I was like, ahh, it doesn't really belong on the record anyway. Shows how much I fucking know, but…I thought that "Wicked Gil" song would probably be the single and we'd try to get on like KROQ or something. So it's interesting…my expectations were so fucked I really had no idea what was going to happen.

Pitchfork: What happened in going from your demos to the record last time? Are you going about it the same way again for the new record?

BB: I demo'd those songs forever. My friend Josh Wackerly, he's in the band Panda & Angel and he's in S, he's good at computer recording, like just bring it down to the practice space. He was totally eager and happy to help out, so I was stoked. Because I didn't know how, especially with writing lyrics and stuff, I just really wanted to hear the songs and figure out what I didn't like about them more than what I liked about them, and how I could change them. So we demo'd them, and there's a lot of mumbled words and shit like that just because I was trying to see if the phrasing worked, you know what I mean? Am I using this many syllables here? Do I have enough syllables there? It was more for that. And to see what I could do better. I was really lucky to have him help. And then our friends from this studio called MRX in Seattle, they also did some work with us for free or for cheap. As far as for the new record, I do want to do the same thing because I feel like I want to make sure I don't hate the lyrics or won't be cringing the whole time I listen to it. So we're gonna be going to Jason Caffee's studio in Columbia [South Carolina], a place called the Jam Room. So we're gonna hopefully do some demos with him up there and hang out in Columbia for a week. We'll see how it goes.

Pitchfork: Working with Phil, how does that happen?

BB: How did we come to meet him or how does he work?

Pitchfork: Well, you guys were both shopping for women's jeans, right?

BB: Yeah, exactly. I was like, that's a nice ass, Phil Ek.

CB: It's up there, but it is nice.

Pitchfork: And does he have ideas for what he wants the songs to sound like, too?

CB: I believe he does. He very much so does.

BB: He had all those demos for a while. We were talking about all that stuff for a while, getting excited about recording, so yeah he had an idea. And we thought when we'd record the record we'd make it very live-ish, you know what I mean? Like kind of Crazy Horse style, go in there and just blow it out or whatever, and that did not work out at all. And ended up…he'll find ways to fix whatever's wrong, but sometimes it just isn't what you thought it might be. Or just the approach might be different than you thought…There are times he wants me to sing one vocal line on four different tracks with me hitting the exact same enunciations on every one. That whole record, I have mass vocal tracks on there, and I have to match the pitch at all times and get all the enunciations right.

CB: He's a ballbuster. In a great way.

BB: He's fucking insane. And that's what makes that record so bright sounding. There's walls of guitars and vocals all over the place.

Pitchfork: Reproducing overdubbed vocals live can be a bitch. Do you practice singing much?

BB: I don't. Actually even when I'm here writing by myself, I can't sing in my normal voice. I sing in the tone I'm talking in, in a low register. And so sometimes I'll write a song and the dudes will come down and we'll start practicing it and I've never actually sung in the register when I was writing it. [While I'm writing] I know I need to be up there or whatever. So sometimes I don't even know what it's gonna sound like until we play it for the first time.

Pitchfork: And you just hit the notes?

BB: Sometimes. Sometimes not so good.

CB: You do a pretty great job, though. I must say.

BB: I do alright. Kinda sounds like that one dude.

Pitchfork: What's that guy's name?

BB: Oh man, what is it?

CB: Peter Cetera.

Pitchfork: So that guy you sound like…the consensus among critics seems to be, where they do list sound-alikes, that the songs are strong enough to overcome that initial impulse. Yeah, there are similarities, but the songs are still worth a listen. So when you're in this sort of reverb-soaked high-pitched man-vocal genre, you're gonna get these comparisons. But it seems like the pressure is then on the songs to stand on their own.

BB: There's no shame in the game. As fucking stupid as it sounds, I have recordings that I sang on, even with Carissa's Wierd before I ever heard My Morning Jacket, and I sang that way anyway.

CB: That's really the end-all shit-all of the story.

BB: I actually have recordings, it's the same voice before I ever heard that band.

CB: People've been using reverb for a long time.

BB: Well there's that. And I would come more from the Neil Young, being so influenced by him. It's more that. But you know, I hadn't heard the [Band of Horses] record since I had to approve it. And the other night I was like, I wonder what this sounds like. And I had never opened one up and looked at the pictures, you know. I was drunk off my ass. And I listened to it. I definitely hear it. Now listening to it, I'm like wow. There's a couple of songs where it's like, yeah, that's kind of biting, where I see where people would get that. So I'm more conscious of that now also, but at the same time I know how I sing or whatever and I'm not about to change to…I do what I do and whatever people feel the need to hate or even just to have comparisons. Because when you listen to something sometimes you can't help but think of it in a way where it's familiar. I don't think I worry about it too much anymore. At the beginning of the year, when all that stuff started coming out, I think it might have irked me a little bit or I just got kind of sick of people always asking the same questions during interviews.

CB: They dragged that dead horse all around.

BB: Now I just don't even think about it anymore. At the end of the year I realized that. One night, I was like, I really don't care about that shit at all anymore. I know what I do. But what can you do? I understand when people do it.