Flight Of Honor

I was asked to photograph a Flight Of Honor last week. Since the World War II memorial opened in Washington earlier this year, many cities have been organizing trips for local WWII veterans. Last Saturday's was the last in Charlotte, for now, until new sponsorship can be found.

So why was I out there at 6am to photograph a group of veterans that I've never met? My friends in the WBT Briarhoppers asked me to do it, so I could photograph them playing to the vets. But largely, it was for personal, and sentimental reasons. Both of my grandfathers fought in World War II. My mom's father (whom I recently wrote about on what would have been my grandparents' 66th wedding anniversary) was a staff sgt., and was on the lines through North Africa, Italy and D-Day. My dad's father was in the Navy for the last year of the war, long enough to be on a ship that was torpedoed and strafed by the enemy, but did not sink.

My dad's father got to visit the Memorial earlier this year, but George (my mom's dad, and someone I was closer to than nearly everyone I've ever known) passed away in 2000, as the plans for the memorial were being drawn up. He had told me that he didn't need to see it, or the D-Day memorial, or the various things that they've built for veterans in the past decades. He didn't need to relive it again. But he still stayed in touch with his friends. His buddies, his fellow survivors. He outlived most of them, but the shared experience never diminished.

So here they were. A couple hundred people whom I never met, yet I knew all of their stories. The look in their eyes when you talked about "that time." The weary look of pride as the years came flooding back. It was there. Like I once saw in George's eyes, and now I sometimes see in my own.

I wore a photo of George pinned to my shirt. I couldn't find a photo of him from those days at 6am that morning, but I did take a photo of him from 1959, standing proudly in front of my grandparents' house. I wanted him to be there, in some physical and emotional form. Would he have gone on these flights? I don't know. If his friends were still around, perhaps. But maybe that is what tied the morning together, for me. What is the human race, but a series of friends, and loved ones that we hold close to ourselves? They may no longer be with us, in the physical sense, but our shared experience never changes. And in that sense, they will always be with us, no matter where we, or they go.

Enjoy your flight, kid. From your old kiddo,
-Daniel

P.S. Yes, I'm a sentimental fool. But my heart would not let me act otherwise.

Douglas Adams interview, 1996

The Hitchhiker’s Guide To Douglas Adams

by Daniel Coston

originally published November 1996 issue of Tangents

Additional comments written for the Tangents website, 2010

There is no way to describe Douglas Adams’ sci-fi comedy opus “The Hitchhiker ‘s Guide To The Galaxy,” and accurately capture why it has become one of the popular books of the past 20 years. With characters such as Guide researcher, Zaphod Beeblebrox and Marvin the Paranoid Android, its one of those books that you just have to read to understand its popularity.

It’s also very hard to describe the author, who now has sold over 15 million books worldwide. Born in Cambridge, England, Adams first introduced “Hitchhiker’s” as a radio series for the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) in 1978. He has since adapted the story into five books, a popular TV mini-series and every other form of media imaginable. 

With a second popular book series, “Dirk Gently” now under his belt, Adams has positioned himself at the forefront of the Computer Age with an upcoming CD-ROM and other projects now in the planning stages. 

During his stay in Charlotte last month for the Novello festival, I sat down with Adams to talk about “Hitchhiker’s,” his experiences with Monty Python and “Doctor Who,” and the numerous “Hitchhiker’s” followers who fill the internet. 

Tangents: What were some of your early influences as a writer?

Adams: I’d have to say that Monty Python influenced me a great deal from a comedy standpoint. There were a few science-fiction comic books in England when I was growing up. They were the rather sort of upper-crust comic books that were there, I think, to instill good Empire values into young boys.

I must profess to have a bit of a problem with a lot of today’s science-fiction. I just find it very hard to read. In what many people think of as the “Golden Age” of science-fiction that produced [Arthur C.] Clarke and [Issac] Azimov and those guys, they were all working for voracious editors. You always read them complaining about how much their editors beat them up, but it produced very clear, clean, lean storytelling. If you read science-fiction nowadays, everybody’s been to creative writing classes, and you get page after page, after page of “creative storytelling” without it ever actually going somewhere.

Tangents: One of your first jobs was writing with Graham Chapman during the last season of “Monty Python’s Flying Circus.”

Adams: Well, it was something that seemed to me at the time, as a young kid out of University, like this was having the clouds opening. “Wow! I’m working with all the Pythons.” It wasn’t quite as straightforward as that... Graham was a very, very heavy drinker at the time. He wasn’t working with John Cleese anymore, and he was working with a lot of different people, but an awful lot of work really wasn’t being done. So it was a period of mixed output. 

Tangents: In between that getting the radio deal for “Hitchhiker,” you worked as a bodyguard.

Adams: Yes, for an Arab royal family, the Altoni of Gutar. That was strange. It wasn’t what I expected to be doing at that point, but like anything that happens to you in life, it turns out useful in some way or another. I think some of the weirder ideas that carried me through the next couple years after that came from long nights sitting opposite the elevator shaft at the Hilton Hotel, while I was trying to keep my sanity. 

Tangents: The ideas for “Hitchhiker’” came from several different inspirations, didn’t they? 

Adams: Yes. The actual title came to me while I was lying in a field in Innsbrook at night and looking up at the stars. There was a book around called “The Hitchhiker’s Guide To Europe,” and it occurred to me that somebody should write a “Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy.” I then promptly forgot about the idea until six years later. I was intrigued by the idea of doing science-fiction as a form of comedy, and it was only while I was at work on the story that became “Hitchhiker” that I suddenly remembered the title.

People always described “hitchhiker” rather carelessly or loosely as being a spoof on science-fiction, and it isn’t at all. Basically, a spoof or parody might give you enough material for a couple of pages, but that’s about it. So it was very much using science-fiction to enable one to parody everything else, but there’s no, or certainly hardly any, attempt to actually parody science-fiction.

Tangents: While you were writing the “Hitchhiker’s” radio series, you were hired to become a writer and story editor on “Doctor Who.” 

Adams: The sequence of events was that while I was waiting for the BBC to make up its mind about doing “Hitchhiker,” I needed some income from somewhere, so I thought, “Well, I’ve got this one script that I’ve written for “Hitchhiker.” What else could I generate with this?” And the obvious place to send it was “Doctor Who.” And the inevitable happened, which is that the commission for the rest of the “Hitchhiker’s” series, AND four episodes of “Doctor Who” came in the same week. So it was pretty hectic. I really had hardly a day off for four years after that, until I finally decided, “That’s it,” made the escape from London and holed up in a hotel in New York for a month, and tried to figure out what to do next.

Tangents: What’s your feeling now about your work with “Doctor Who?”

Adams: Well, “Doctor Who” is great in all sorts of ways. I remain tremendously fond of the actual idea, and it obviously got very well-worm and tired over the years. I think the problem with it was simply that we were doing 26 episodes a year on a very, very small amount of resources, and you’re having to compromise on so many things that you’re no longer getting any satisfaction out of it. It’s merely a collection of missed opportunities. And I feel on “Doctor Who,” there was just too much. Too much expected from too little in the way of resources. So at the end of the day, you feel, “Well, we didn’t even do a good job, I’m afraid.” So it was a little disappointing.

Tangents: The character of Ford Prefect in “Hitchhiker’s” was originally conceived as a sort of anti-Doctor Who, wasn’t he?

Adams: In a kind of way, yeah. One of the keynotes of Ford was that given the choice between saving the world and going to a good party, he’d go to the party. Or even a bad party. (laughs)

Tangents: Whereas Doctor Who would just save the world.

Adams: Yeah, he was that kind of boring guy about saving the world over and over again. That’s why I thought with “Hitchhiker,” “Let’s just get the world out of the way from the word go.” Boy, that was a decision that I came to regret. (groans) Good God.

Tangents: Why is that?

Adams: It was such a problem thereafter. It’s one of those things you do, like a gesture. You make this grand gesture at the beginning, and you give up the earth and you think, “Damn. Now where’s the thing going to be set?” You haven’t got a good reference point thereafter, so I’ve made these ... attempts to bring it back from time to time, but it never quite works. 

Tangents: Do you think the “Hitchhiker’s” story can be taken any further?

Adams: I’d like to, actually. A lot of people have not particularly liked “Mostly Harmless” [1993], including myself. The problem with it was the year in which I wrote that book was just full of terrible problems at home. Professional problems, family problems, a sad death in the family. It was a really, really bloody year, and against the background of that, I had to write a funny book. I know I keep saying that I’ll never do another [“Hitchhiker” book], but I might well d another one at some point because I’d like to leave it all on a slightly more upbeat ending than “Mostly Harmless” was.

Tangents: Did you ever tire of people asking you what you were working on next?

Adams: I got very crazed by it, actually. When I started out, I did something in radio, I did something in television. I did this, I did that. Then I did a book, and then suddenly, the book was a hit, [which] meant that the next thing I did was another book, and the next thing after that was another book. And that wasn’t the kind of life that I really wanted.

So I’ve set up with a bunch of very complementary and bright bunch of people, and we’ve formed a company called the Digital Village. It’s turning out to be enormous fun. I’m working very hard on a CD-ROM, “Starship Titanic.” Now that looks like it’ll go on into other forms of different media, but I don’t want ot do what I did with “Hitchhiker,” which was, “Okay, now I’ve done the radio series. Now I’ll do the book of it, and now I’m gonna write the television series,” and this and that, and virtually became my own word processor. 

Tangents: What’s your feeling about the different Internet groups that follow you?

Adams: It’s kind of weird, actually. Andy Warhol said that in the future, everyone will be famous for 15 minutes. Now he would say in the future, everybody will have their own alt.fan group. There was a point where I used to go into those different newsgroups, but I found that it was an uphill battle because you get a flak from people saying, “Oh, it can’t possibly be you, so butt off out of here.”

But the other thing is ... someone would ask a question, and then I would go on and answer it, and maybe write a full piece. And over the next two or three days, a lot of people would ask, “What did he say?” And then you’d watch as more and more garbled versions of what you’d said would proliferate around, and it got to be such a full-time job just trying to keep it under control. So I thought, “I’ll duck back out of this now,” and wait until I can do my own web site, where I can keep control of things.

-------------------

This is still one of the better interviews I’ve ever done, and almost completely in spite of myself. I was frightfully young, on the late side of 23, but still in the first few months of knowing how to interact with other people. I had only been doing interviews in April of that year, and while the questions I asked aren’t bad, I can hear the overeager edge of my voice, trying to be funny and “cool” around a guy whose work I had just recently gotten into. On top of which, I had bought a new tape recorder for this interview, which unbeknownest to me was set on Voice Activated. So, I start the interview, and the tape recorder is cutting on and off. It rolled intermittently for the first few minutes while Douglas told me a great story about a similar problem he’d had while recording John Cleese for a BBC pantomime. Eventually, we both picked up the tape recorder, and Douglas figured out what the problem was. Not only did the machinery go heywire during a Douglas Adams interview, but Douglas then fixed it. Even back then, it seemed absolutely brilliant. After the interview was done, mind you....

What it did establish in my favor was that I literally had no airs about myself. I was the innocent fan with some half-decent questions, and Douglas really went out of his way to give some very in-depth answers. I kept running into him the rest of the day, as I had to stay at the library until Douglas’ speaking engagement and signing. In retrospect, I wish I hadn’t bugged him as much (at least I feared I did), but it was such a cool day, it was hard to let it go. I also hate that I never got the chance to talk to him again, and tell him how much it had all meant to me.

And how that we get this interview? Tangents was the only one that wanted to interview Douglas in person, while he was in town. All of the papers only wanted pre-show interviews before that week (all of which Douglas was doing at the time via email, or internet chats, which was still in its dodgy infancy), and I wanted to meet him. A few weeks before the interview, the Main Library had temporarily banned our magazine from the building, as someone got scared by our “content.” And then, there I was, representing the media through the Main Library of Charlotte, and we were back in the library. Even then, it struck me as bizarre, and hilarious. 

This gig also became notable for other reasons. It was one of the first events I ever photographed, as our photographer at the time didn’t show up. I took photos from my seat, sitting next to the girl that had dumped me the week before, as we’d had already gotten the tickets weeks ahead of the show. I then took photos at the signing, which were the best pics of him I got that night. I would soon discover the combination of music and photography at Farm Aid the following week, and I was off on another adventure. 

My last question to Douglas was actually this, which we originally cut for space.

Tangents: Would you do another nude scene, like you did in the Hitchhiker’s TV series?

Adams: Dear God, no! They got me horribly drunk to do that!

-Daniel Coston, February 2010  

Robert Pollard interview, 2010

Robert Pollard: Don’t Stop Now

Interview and introduction by Daniel Coston

Originally published by the Big Takeover Magazine, winter 2010 issue

For over twenty years, Robert Pollard has produced an astonishing amount of good music. Sixteen albums with the heralded Guided by Voices, 15 solo albums, and four albums with Boston Spaceships in the last three years alone, on top of a mind-boggling number of EPs and singles with many other projects. This year alone, Pollard will helm the release of five new albums, and is already working on next year’s releases. Pollard has also become known for his collage artwork, which has graced the covers of many of his albums, as well as in galleries across the United States.

For many fans like myself, our love with all things Pollard began with the 1993 to 1996 era of Guided by Voices, which produced six great albums (including 1994’s Bee Thousand, and 1995’s Alien Lanes), and a large collection of EPs that fans still collect. Hearing those records for the first time was like discovering the Who and the Beatles all at once, hitting you with song after infectious song.

Now, the “classic” lineup of GBV- Pollard, guitarist Tobin Sprout, guitarist Mitch Mitchell, bassist Greg Demos and drummer Kevin Fennell- recently reformed for a series of shows that gave fans such as myself to finally see this legendary band in person. Whether you’re there for the sheer spectacle of a Guided by Voices show, or just to hear a great band, it’s the music of Guided by Voices that first led me to them, and has stayed with me to this day. 

I first met Pollard in 1997, first as a huge Guided by Voices fan, and then got to know him better through my photography. (I photographed GbV’s 2002 album Universal Truths And Cycles, and have photos in their best-of.) There’s something about Bob that I’ve always liked, as a person and as a musician. Apart from being really intelligent, Bob has a natural love for whatever he’s into, whether it’s music, record collecting, art or anything else. Pollard still shows me the possibilities of being that prolific in your chosen field of art, and having a huge body of work to call your own when all is said and done.

This interview took place via email, before the GbV reunion shows took place. My thanks to David Newgarden for setting this up, and to my friend and fellow GbV fanatic Donnie Merritt for the additional questions. 

BT: How did this GBV reunion tour come about?

Pollard: It started with an invitation to play the Matador 21st Anniversary three-day event in Vegas. I initially declined, but was later persuaded to decide otherwise. They wanted loosely, the Alien Lanes cast at the time, but by the point that I had decided to do it, I thought it might makes sense to re-form the so-called "Classic Lineup," and embark on the dreaded "U.S. Reunion Tour." I don't dread it now, and in fact am looking forward to getting back together with Toby, Greg, Mitch and Kevin, and kicking out those songs from that era, 15 or 16 years ago.  

There's a lot of energy in that batch of songs, and we need to get our old asses back into some semblance of decent physical and mental condition.

BT: Have you guys gotten together yet to rehearse, talk, drink?

Pollard: We've talked.  I've been drinking once a week with Mitch.  I've been drinking with Greg occasionally.  Everyone is excited.

BT: Do you guys have any plans beyond this tour? Is a new record in the plans?

Pollard: We may do some more shows. Possibly Europe/England next Spring or Summer. We'll not likely do a new album. Possibly a live album of this tour. I don't know. One can never tell.

BT: Many of the shows have already sold out. How does it feel to know that there is still so much interest in GBV?

Pollard: It's nice to be reminded of that level of admiration. I've been listening to and going over the set that we'll be playing. Songs from "Propeller" to "Under the Bushes."  Mostly stuff from "Bee Thousand" and "Alien Lanes". Having distanced myself somewhat from that era, I realize that there was a shitload of really good songs.

BT: Bee Thousand and Alien Lanes are rightfully considered classics. Which of your EPs, or which EP are you proudest of, do you think is the best, or think is a classic?

Pollard: I'm most proud of "Clown Prince of the Menthol Trailer." The best is probably "Grand Hour," also the classic, but it could also be "Fast Japanese Spin Cycle," or "Get Outta My Stations."

BT: What songs are you looking forward to performing again?

Pollard: Oh, it's hit after hit. About 40 of them. Just like in the old days. "Shocker [In Gloomtown]", "[I Am A] Scientist", " [Game Of] Pricks", "[Tractor] Rape Chain", "[My Valuable] Hunting Knife"...

BT: Let's talk about your new albums. Describe what's upcoming, and did you plan to put out 5 CDs this year?

Pollard: I've been releasing 5 to 7 albums a year for the last 4 or 5 years.  Ever since we started GBV, Inc..  I just released a solo album, "Moses On A Snail." Boston Spaceships has "Our Cubehouse Still Rocks" coming out in September, and Chris [Slusarenko] and John [Moen] are working on our next project, a double album called "Let It Beard," slated for next Spring.  I'm doing collaborations with Doug Gillard (Lifeguards) and Gary Waelik of Big Dipper (Mars Classroom), scheduled for early 2011, and I have a new solo album finished, which will be out in January called "Space City Kicks". I never plan, I just do.

BT: I'm happy to see that doing a new album with Doug Gillard. Is this something that you've wanted to do for some time?

Pollard: Well, I did a Lifeguards album with Doug about, I don't know, 6 or 7 years ago and Doug approached me to do a record last year. We were originally going to call the project ESP Ohio, but I thought it might be more interesting to call it Lifeguards again. It's entitled "Waving at the Astronauts". It sounds nothing like the first one. It's on a NYC label called Serious Business.

BT: When you start putting together an album, do you say, "I want it to sound like THIS," or do you write the songs, and put the record together from there?

Pollard: I write songs first, usually. Occasionally, I have a preconceived notion as to what I want it to be. Sometimes I even have the cover before I write the songs. There aren't usually formulas. Lately I'm back to starting with song titles first, the way I worked back around "Alien Lanes". 

BT: You seem to have settled into a pretty productive writing and recording schedule. How different is your routine, now that you don't tour on a regular basis?

Pollard: I work every morning on either music or art, and they're pretty much the same thing.  I never force it.  It's like routine exercise. Lotta coffee.

BT: I have to ask. How often DO you write a song? Do you have a preferred quota?

Pollard: I have no quota. I just write when I feel like it, and I brainstorm as many ideas as I can until the point of overload or exhaustion. Then I pick out what I want to flesh out or in some cases, keep it the same.

BT: What's the advantage of having your own record label?

Pollard: You maintain your schedule of 5 or 6 albums a year.  You don't compete with a stable.  Your projects are the stable, and you release them anytime you want.

BT: How's your collage art coming along these days? And do you still have that "We're here and we're high" yearbook cover that I gave you a few years ago? [The cover was my wife’s yearbook, from Centerville, Ohio.]

Pollard: I have an art show in NYC at the end of August. It's called "The Public Hi-Fi Balloon," and along with collages, it will feature an imaginary record store called "The Public Hi-Fi Balloon" with fake 45 and LP sleeves, and a rack of fake magazine covers. It's somewhat of a mind fuck. The conception will be that I have too much time on my hands. Man, I'm sorry, I don't remember the yearbook cover. I wish I had it. It sounds very workable. 

BT: Are you still collecting records? And if so, what have you been collecting lately?

Pollard: I'll look for a record occasionally if I read about it. Ebay or Half.com. I've been looking for stuff on particular late 70's labels.  "Bomp," or "Stiff".  I recently found about 50 local and regional vanity gospel albums, at a thrift store. The covers are insane. Almost demented. The fonts are cool. Most of them were pressed in the ‘60s and ‘70s at the same plant that did our 80's vanity albums, like "Forever Since Breakfast," and "Devil Between My Toes". The old paper wrap-around covers.  

For me, finding this shit was the last frontier of psychedelia.  I mean, also, where did these people get the money to finance these records?  I'm sure from the collection plate. We went in debt to finance ours. I remember when we pressed "Forever Since Breakfast". The place was in Cincinnati, and it was called QCA. They thought we were a gospel band. Guided By Voices!

BT: You were a huge REM fan in the early days of GBV. What's your favorite song/album? still a fan? Ever meet them?

Pollard: Fave R.E.M. song, "Laughing." Fave R.E.M. album, "Murmur." I have met them. I've hung out with Peter Buck a few times, and he played on one of my records, and I sang on one of his. He's a really cool guy.

BT: Since my wife is an Ohio native, I've come to understand the state better through recent visits. What kind of influence does Ohio, and the area you now live in still have on your writing? 

Pollard: It's inspirational because there's not shit to do.  Nowhere to go. Ohio has spawned a plethora of very interesting bands from 60's bubblegum, to 70's scuzz rock, to 90's lo-fi.  Also, Ohio bands are very competitive. The cities are fairly competitive amongst one another.

BT: What means more to you? The Rock Hall in Cleveland, or Northridge High School sports Hall Of Fame? [Pollard and his brother Jimmy were inducted into the Northridge Hall Of Fame last year.] 

Pollard: Northridge sports, in a very childish, competitive way with my friends from that school.  It could be the same sort of haughtiness with the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, though. That kind of attitude comes from being verbally kicked around. It's silly.

BT: Finish this sentence. Robert Pollard is......

Pollard: ...a juggernaut and a monolith.

Robert Pollard interview, 1997

Robert Pollard of GBV interview
Originally conducted in summer 1997
Originally published in Musicomet Magazine, September 1999
Interview by Benjamin Robinson and Daniel Coston.



Singer. Bandleader. Writer of a million songs. World-famous beer drinker. Indie icon. Rock God. For fans of Robert Pollard, who has spent the last fifteen years at the helm of Guided by Voices, all of these labels apply to him. With a revolving cast of cohorts, Pollard and his Dayton, Ohio-based band have produced some of the best rock records in the past decade, including "Propeller" (1992), "Bee Thousand" (1994) and "Alien Lanes" (1995), and given rise to a legion of fans that rally behind the slogan, "In Bob We Trust."

With last month’s release of the band’s tenth album, "Do The Collapse," and their show at the Cat’s Cradle in Chapel Hill on September 9, we decided to dust off this never-before-seen interview with Pollard, conducted while he was promoting GbV’s 1997 album, "Mag Earwhig." Talking with Pollard is an experience unto itself. Much like his music, you’re never quite sure what’s coming next, but it always promises to be a lot of fun.

Musicomet: So you’re a big media superstar, now.

Pollard: I don’t know what’s next. I’ll be on Politically Incorrect, or Rock N’ Jock. [laughs] I could do that, but I don’t want to do that kind of stuff.

Musicomet: That’d be awful. Hanging out with Dean Cain...

Pollard: ...or Flea. I’ll kick Flea’s ass. [laughs]

Musicomet: Would you beat the Beastie Boys in basketball again, like you did on the Lollapalooza tour?

Pollard: Nah. They also had Billy Corgan, did you know that? It was the Beastie Boys and Billy Corgan. We actually became pretty good friends, because of that. It was really weird, because of our basketball ability, we got respect from that. We’d see them in a place in L. A., like a restaurant, they’d come over. "Hey, hey," you know, because of basketball. I’m not sure if it was because of rock.

Musicomet: Bob Pollard’s got mad game.

Pollard: They were okay. They weren’t bad players, they just underestimated my brother [Jimmy], and they just left him open for a 15-foot shot, and he buried, like, ten in a row.

Musicomet: Is it necessary for you to bring in new people every once in a while?

Pollard: Yeah, it’s always been that way. Some people think the band is like a marriage, and you have to stay together with that all the time, and I disagree. Before we got some attention in ‘93, I used to change the band all the time. I’d change it every week, if I felt like that, if I wanted to.
It’s like the story of the vampire. He’s got to keep himself young with new blood. [laughs] I’ll get me some nineteen, twenty year-old kids in the band next. Like that band Hanson..., or Silverchair.

Musicomet: Do you care that all these crappy bands make all the money?

Pollard: No, I actually have pity, because these kids are thrust into the f--king glamorous aspect of all this s--t, and they’re caught up in the industry, and I’m sure that they’re going to be f--king over with in a couple of years. And they don’t have time to develop their own music. Basically, all they can do is latch on to something that’s happened, like a grunge thing, and they’re going to have time to develop their own music, so it’s a joke.
I think it should be like, what’s the legal age for drinking? You should be that to be able to rock, too. [laughs] I don’t think you should be allowed to have a band before that. You cannot rock before your 21.

Musicomet: Could you play acoustic instruments before that?

Pollard: No, you just listen. You just listen and learn what you want to do. You go to school. You go to Rock College. You go to Rock N’ Roll High School, and then you go to Rock College.
I think that most of them see MTV as the role model. That’s the example. "Hey, we’ve got to be something like that." In the best periods of music, like the late ‘60s and late ‘70s, you could do anything you wanted. You could call your band any weird-ass name you wanted to, and you could do any weird kind of weird music you wanted to, and you could actually get signed to major label like that. Whereas now, you can’t.
Do you think that music sucks? It kind of sucks. I hardly listen to any music. I used to listen to it all day, and be into it. But I think it’s something to do with that we’re part of it, and it’s not as glamorous. Plus, I hate CDs. F--k CDs.

Musicomet: They don’t lend themselves very well to artwork....

Pollard: Yeah. It’s not art. It’s just plastic. And it costs, what, fifteen dollars for a CD? And it doesn’t cost them anything to make them. They send them out as advances for free. That’s how cheap they are.
I don’t think that bands give a s--t about the art part, or the conceptual parts [of the album]. They just think, "Let me get a couple good songs on there, and I’ll let the record company do the rest."

Musicomet: The album, as an art form, is really not like what it was. No one makes an album like you do anymore. It’s always hard for me to make a mix tape of Guided by Voices, because I don’t think about songs from "Alien Lanes"...

Pollard: You think about the album.

Musicomet: "Bee Thousand" is an album, it’s not a collection of songs.

Pollard: Thanks for saying that. That’s what I try to do. That’s way every album is different, and has it’s own personality. I don’t labor over songwriting, or recording, but I do labor over packaging, the sequencing, and the artwork, because that’s the final touches of the piece. I try to put it together so that you can listen to it without taking it off, or skipping through the songs.

Musicomet: What other bands do you respect, that have also been around as long as you?

Pollard: Peter Buck’s a good dude. I don’t like REM’s music too much anymore, but I used to, and I think that they’ve got some longevity. It’s kind of pitiful to see what’s happened to U2. Bob Mould, Sonic Youth. I like Sonic Youth. Those guys are good people. Pavement, Superchunk. Those bands keep going, and seem to be doing alright.
Somebody asked me, "What happens if it’s all over tomorrow? I know that I’ll still be making music, ‘cause we did it for ten years without anyone knowing what the hell was going on with us. It’s not a big scary thing.

Musicomet: Well, you can always forward to the "Where Are They Now?" articles about you.

Pollard: They have a section in the Dayton Daily News called, "Where Are They Now?" They’ve never put me in that. It’s mainly for athletes and s--t, but I was a pretty good athlete here in town. I made All-Greater Dayton in basketball, and I pitched a no-hitter at Wright State. You’d think they would be like, "That’d be an interesting story. Where is he now?" And I’m a rocker now, and they’ve never done that.

Musicomet: You’ve written just an innumerable number of songs. Do you still find new things to inspire you, and to write about?

Pollard: I don’t think about that. I write when I’m inspired, but I’m usually not inspired that often, But when I do become inspired, I just go write. And it usually comes from a list of song titles. I’ll use that as the seeds of inspiration, and I’ll just write the whole list. If there’s fifty song titles, I’ll write the whole list. And them I’ll go back and pick out my favorite ones, and work on them. Or sometimes, they’ll come from things that people say. I’ll listen, and twist phrases around, and start from there.

Musicomet: The thing that’s always amazed me about your lyrics is that for as many songs as you’ve written, you never repeat yourself.

Pollard: That’s what kind of tough, but I don’t think I could do that if I didn’t write the way that I do. Which is kind of like, way too uninspired, and then, it’s almost a form of meditation, or something. I just let myself kick back, and let loose, and let us much flow out as I can, and then use the best stuff. I think because I do that, I come up with a lot of different stuff. If I ... tried to work with a formula, then I think I would come up with a lot of the same stuff, and I think that’s what happens with a lot of bands.

Musicomet: Do you think that a lot of musicians also get too tied up in letting people what the inspiration is, what they’re writing about? ‘Cause I think that you’re lyrics can be interpreted in many different ways.

Pollard: Yeah. That’s the best kind of stuff. Like John Lennon’s, David Bowie’s, Marc Bolan’s. That’s how their lyrics where. These abstract portraits that you can figure out for yourself. They can mean a lot of different things.
There’s a lot of people who like to get too literal, and too personal, and try to reveal their soul to you. "Hey, this is how about my mom," or my girlfriend, or whatever. F--k that. Who cares?

Musicomet: That way, people can also take in their own meanings, to things going on within their own life.

Pollard: Yeah. I kind of work line by line. I’ll write one line, and that may mean something, and then the next line may have nothing to do with that. So I do is string a whole bunch of unrelated lines together, and then a lot of times they form a complete picture. And you can something of it, or you can make something out of one line. That’s fine.

Route 89, poem from 1996

Route 89
Originally published in Tangents Magazine, 1996

The past slowly wilts

like ice sculptures lost

the three o'clock sun,

evaporating stone by stone

as it wraps itself

in vines and fading paint.,

while the younger shapes

build themselves up

with plastic and shine,

hoping to survive

when the twilight calls them home.

Time counts the distance

spent traveled hour to hour,

of what has been

along the journey.

Voices and their faces

fall by the wayside,

submerging and switching

with the others,

leaving only the smoky remains

of what has gone, and only returns

in patches and flashes of rememberance.

The survivors move on,

slowly changing the shades

and the faces with time,

although the path never alters.

There Was A Time, the 1960s NC rock scene book

For the past year and a half, I have been working on a book on the rock scene of North Carolina, with a focus on the Charlotte scene. The initial idea for the book came from Jake Berger, a longtime musician in the Charlotte scene. He first pitched me the idea while I was working on the Double Door Inn book (which is still available on Amazon, or from me), and I finally found the time last year to start working on the book. I am now in the editing stages, but am collecting more info about bands and scenes throughout North Carolina.

If you were in a band in the 1960s in NC, played with any bands in NC during that time, or have some cool photos or stories from that period, please email me at danielcoston@aol.com, and I'll write you back immediately. Thanks.
-Daniel

Happy 66th wedding anniversary

When I was four, I lived for some time with my mother's parents, George and Mary King. I was their first grandchild, and I took to them like I have rarely connected to anyone else in my life. I learned a lot from them. Set your own hours, take time for yourself, family does matter, and most importantly, do what you care about. No big fanfare about things, but do what matters to you, and be proud of what you've done. I still look at that time of my life as one of my happiest. I will always be from upstate New York, even if its just in the emotional sense, and they will always be a big part of that.

George and Mary's last anniversary together on this earth was in 1990, the same day that my first TV show premiered on local TV. Years later, I found their wedding photo negatives, and made sure that they were preserved. George and Mary are no longer here, in the physical sense, as are too many of the good people I've known along the way. But it is said that no one is truly gone if we still talk about them, quote from them. Live through their experiences. And I am still proud to do so.

Happy 66th annivsersary, George and Mary, from your old kid,
-Daniel