
Certainly Sir
Music that'll speak to you the day after
"Watch
the sky recede/ and clear out for the storm," sings
Michael Brodeur on "Sweet Time" the first track
off Certainly, Sir's first full length release Mugic,
out April 2nd on Spoilt Records/ Pussyfoot Records. As Certainly,
Sir, Brodeur and Nick Hubben have cleared a space for themselves
within independent pop and electronic music - drawing in
a storm of disparate elements and inspiration to create
a landscape of songs very much their own. Certainly, Sir's
blend of catchy pop melodies, brilliant instrumentation
and incisive lyrics are all at play in their field of electronic
rhythmic texture and loops of captured sound. Yet even as
it revels in its influences, Certainly, Sir is hard at work
to subvert the very patterns their songs are grounded in
- turning pop songs into intricate, eloquent explorations
of sound and voice. Mugic finds Nick and Brodeur
emerging from their continuing process of writing, recording
and performing, as a band open to whatever storm of inspiration
might come their way.
I recently had the chance to meet up with Nick and Brodeur,
and their friend Katie Gleeson, at the James's Gate Pub
on a rare snowy evening in Jamaica Plain, a neighborhood
of Boston. Nick (also of The Ivory Coast) and Brodeur (formerly
of The Wicked Farleys and editor of BOTH magazine) chatted
with me about Certainly, Sir's beginnings, the process of
making Mugic, and their ongoing process of self-translation.
In the bedroom
Mugic
has a distinctly organic feel to it - each of the eleven
songs function discretely while also referencing and building
off each other as the album unfolds. This seems to reflect
the way Certainly, Sir came about. When the two lived down
the street from one another in Allston, Nick would slip
Brodeur burned CDs of loops when they would meet on the
subway. Brodeur would begin to work out vocals and lyrics
based on these short loops.
"I had this one song lying around that I hadn't done
anything with," said Brodeur, over the din of the James's
Gate. "We ended up recording it in his kitchen and
then fucking with the drums a little bit
. it was just
off the cuff - it just happened and we were like, well,
we could probably do the same thing with stuff on [Nick's]
computer." The two began getting together on Saturday
mornings in Nick's apartment above a ball bearing factory
in Allston. With Nick handling most of the rhythm and Brodeur
the vocals and lyrics, songs began to emerge from the errata
collected in Nick's Pro Tools sound files. While the pair
played and arranged most all the pieces that found their
way into these songs, they also took full advantage of whoever
might be hanging around Nick's apartment. As Brodeur explained,
"it'd be hard to say who's on there 'cause I'm sure
there's like the ghost of different people all over the
thing." Vanessa Downing (formerly of the Wicked Farleys
and currently with Rosa Chance Well) contributed vocals
on one song, Ken Bernard (also of the Farleys) played drums
that appear on a few songs, and the members of Rock City
Dance Crew (RC/DC) helped out with handclaps.
"It's almost like the song is there and we're totally
guessing about how to get to it," said Brodeur of the
process of working on these songs. Huddled in front of Nick's
Macintosh G3, the pair spent hours pouring over their nascent
batch of songs. "It hard to rock out on Pro Tools,"
Nick said of the spent splicing together ten second loops
of sound. He then quickly corrected himself. " No
it's
hard to rock out on Pro Tools and then be like , 'okay that
was good ,now we're done.' It takes hours before you can
hit the space bar and be like, 'yeah okay.' But when that
happens it's really freaking satisfying. That's why I do
it - cause [when we're finished] it's like 'can I make something
cooler than that?'"
The songwriting process was one of constant revision -
reworking the songs as new ideas revealed themselves from
what was already laid down. "I'll know a loop that
I've had on my computer for six months so well," Nick
said gesturing across the table to Brodeur." And he'll
sing on it
and I'm like, 'what the fuck did he just
do
you asshole, how did you just make that into the
coolest song I've heard?'" While the vocals brought
a new dimension to the rhythm, Nick's loops established
a form within which Brodeur worked melodically and lyrically.
"I'll eventually come up with some sort of rhythmic
schema, plugging in words, seeing what the words have in
common with each other." Brodeur explained of his writing
process. "A lot of the situations that come out of
the songs are based on what phrases jump into the rhythm.
A lot of the rhythms are based on the situations, now that
I think about it
. I mean the sad songs are sad because
the phrases that fit into the melody that I had happened
to be sad phrases. The themes are very much generated by
the music, and then the music is generated by that."
For me it is no problem
After the better part of a year, Nick and Brodeur burned
a collection of three or four songs that they gave to friends.
People they played it for loved what they were doing and
Certainly, Sir put together a six song EP, entitled For
Me It Is No Problem in the Spring of 2001. These songs form
the spine of what would eventually become Mugic.
Accompany the CD/r was a simple black and white booklet
containing lyrics - and a photograph for the instrumental
track - that gave the project a distinctly literary feel.
Evoking the pair's interest in typography and graphic design
- as well as Brodeur's pursuits as a poet and editor - the
album's conceptual design developed the band's slant on
their "electronic" music. While suffused with
samples and loops of percussion and recorded in a Pro Tools
environment, Certainly, Sir has a truly analog feel about
it - an immediacy and openness missing from much electronic
music. As Nick put it, he and Brodeur wanted to "maintain
some sense of personality in there [so] you can tell there
are people responsible for it." For Me It Is No Problem,
both in its recording and presentation, was meant to let
listeners into the music. "When I think of electronic
albums I don't think they're being very generous with what
they're telling you." explained Brodeur. "As free
as electronic music is it seems to withhold a lot. It doesn't
want to be your friend at all. It's there, it'll dance with
you, but you're not going to see it the next day. I wanted
[our record] to be something where the book offered you
into the songs."
Brodeur and Nick estimate that they only made about two
hundred copies of For Me It Is No Problem, a quarter of
which were given away to friends. The record received startling
recognition despite this sparse production - finding outlets
and praise with an assortment of people and venues. During
their recent tour, The Dismemberment Plan often played the
record between sets. It appeared in CMJ's 'Essentials' and
on a SPIN magazine syndicated radio program. Forty-five
copies ended up being sold through Urban Outfitters thanks
to a friend who worked for a promotion company. Certainly,
Sir are as surprised as anyone about the acclaim that their
little CD/r received and still wonder exactly how various
copies found their way into so many different hands. While
continuing to work toward an expanded collection of songs
to be put out on Spoilt Records/ Pussyfoot Records, based
in London, with album art and design by The Designer's Republic,
they were also busy working on a live incarnation of their
project.
Being directly translated
The movement from a collection of sound files so intertwined
that Certainly, Sir themselves have a hard time discerning
where all the sounds came from, to a fully functioning rock
band, could have been a daunting one. But Nick and Brodeur
approached it with the same good humor and willingness to
experiment that infuses their recorded work. They put together
a live band and played around Boston, DC and just recently
New York City at Brownies and in Hoboken at Maxwell's. (They
also have a tour scheduled for this summer in England.)
Aided by their friends Ken, Vanessa, and David Miller Norton
(of Bash Bazouk and webmaster of Baked Bean, a website for
Boston's music scene), Brodeur and Nick are enjoying the
challenge of taking their songs in new directions. "Thankfully
it's been all good," said Nick of the process of drawing
other's more fully into their project. "Their interpretations
are fun
. It's a different thing and we respect that
it's a different thing - they want to be more involved
.The
last few songs we've tried to work out have come together
really quickly and that's really satisfying. It's really
fun to trust other people."
Brodeur and Nick reference the liberating aspects of working
as a pair even as they enjoy developing the project into
the context of a full band. Often, they said, a band can
get into a lot of red tape and get to a point where each
member has lost track of where their vision and contributions
fit in. "But with two people
its supposed to
be like a conversation," said Brodeur. "A lot
of two person bands
are good in that way - you can
hear both people going, but no matter how many people they
had joining in on it, there was still something distinct
about what was going on with the sound. Gastr Del Sol is
perfect like that. You knew what David Grubbs was doing
and you knew what Jim O'Rourke was doing, even though they
had like ten other musicians on there. It's like they are
being directly quoted or something."
Sade left it on the table
Certainly, Sir's new release is a carefully quoted and
beautifully rendered glimpse into the sensibilities and
talents of its creators. Mugic presents a coherent,
fluid series of songs that each mark out their own distinct
territory amidst the record's whole. Many of the songs take
on the pop-song tropes of love - unrequited, failed, confounded
and overwhelming. In "Mercury" the persona finds
himself succumbing to love at its most elemental - "Love
is never up to me/ cause it goes through my blood like mercury."
"How You Been" finds the singer lamenting "this
bed won't fit us both now/ but the door is just your size."
In "It's Not Love (My Bad)" the object of questionable
affection is bitingly presented with the bitterly sweetened
lines "This is an apology/ It is not me saying I won't
go/ My bad / Oh about my "I love you"/ apparently
I don't."
The songs are by turns sweet and caustic, heartfelt and
sarcastic. Many of the songs take what seems one thing and
reveal it to be quite its opposite. The decision to move
into familiar musical territory and turn it inside out is
quite conscious on the part of Nick and Brodeur. "If
I'm listening to a loop that sounds like Sade left it on
the table and we found it and we're like "yeah!"
- then I feel an obligation to go in there and do something
that Sade would never do." said Brodeur, as the juke
box blared, and snow continued to fall outside the pub.
"You've have an expectation in a type of song, and
the best thing that can happen when you expect something,
is to get something else. Most of the time"
Certainly, Sir's Mugic is an exciting record that
sounds at once familiar and yet distinctly fresh and new.
Brodeur's vocals carry a conscious and consistent voice
throughout the progression of the songs. They are at once
personal and open while remaining somewhat obscured behind
the carefully wrought situations, word play, and metaphor.
Nick's operation of the amalgam of textures and loops, moogs
and keyboards that pour throughout the record is as much
a joy to listen to casually as it is to try to peer into
the mesh of sound to pick out that one piece you think you've
heard before. The combination of Nick's manipulation of
rhythm and Brodeur's wielding of melody and line draw the
listener into the record without ever giving too much away,
or losing its edge of mysterium . "Don't stay/ long
enough/ to be taken from/ the vacant,/ dimly lit,/ lot of
my heart," Brodeur sings on the closing track of the
record. "It a bad neighborhood," he sings, but
we think maybe we'll stick around to see what else might
come around after dark.
(for information on Certainly, Sir, visit www.certainly-sir.com.)
--Colin Cheney
|