Volume 088: Steven Lambke
THE VOICE OF ENERGY VOL. 088
Good afternoon / evening to you, my lovely subscribers. I hope this finds you well. I'm currently feeling a little itchy and overwhelmed with the pile of overdue work I have to get through and an inbox that never seems to stay quiet.
But, as one of my favorite Basehead songs reminds me, consider the positives, man, consider the positives. My week has included seeing an incredible set by Superchunk, spending 20 minutes on the phone with Lyrics Born, and finding an autographed copy of Bobby Hart's memoir at a library book sale. Kentaji Brown Jackson was confirmed. And it's the start of another baseball season. As long as I stay away from the other headlines in the world, things feel pretty okay. There's other stuff I want to share but am holding off on until it is confirmed.
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More on the other side. For now, enjoy...
Steven Lambke
When I interviewed Portland rapper JxJURY recently, he told me he recently accepted a position at Nike that would put him on the front lines of working with the big name artists that have deals with the sportswear giant - Drake, Lil Nas X, etc. - after years of overseeing projects by major sports stars like LeBron and Giannis Antetokounmpo. And I had to know, seeing what he has seen with those folks, would he ever want to chase fame with his art? I wasn't surprised that his answer was no. He wanted the respect of his peers and the love of his fans, but he still wanted to be able to walk through a supermarket without his mere presence causing a scene.
That conversation came to mind as I prepared for this interview with Steven Lambke. The Ontario artist already gained some recognition in his career due to his membership in beloved indie rock band Constantines, but more than likely, he could spend an hour browsing the aisles at a grocery store without being accosted. That relative anonymity has allowed him to do whatever he chooses with his music, without having to give even a fleeting thought about what it might mean for his brand. If he wants to make a record of loud, stupid punk with his buddies under the name Spider Bite and follow it up a few months later with dub.tape, a fearless instrumental tribute to the noise and experimental tapes he listened to as a teen using a bass, a heavily distorted recorder, and some cheap percussion, he can do so without hesitation. It's a guiding principle for You've Changed Records, the label he co-owns. The woozy country of Fiver can sit comfortably next to the arch guitar pop of Nap Eyes and the many musical pathways traveled by Lambke's friend and collaborator Daniel Romano.
For now, Lambke has chosen to return to singer-songwriter mode for his latest album Volcano Volcano. It's a lovely, humble, yet poetic collection of songs made with Romano and bassist Daniel Nardi and finished off by Lambke at his home, overdubbing percussion and vocals and other assorted noises. Everything saunters out in an unhurried fashion while also dazzling with lyrical details and unexpected musical turns. An album that works just as well whether its viewed from a wide angle remove or peered at carefully through a magnifying glass.
It's been a crazy few years. How did you manage to survive the lockdowns and the worry and the insanity of the pandemic?
There were so many ups and downs! As we’ve collectively gone through wave after wave of outbreak and gone through so many shifts in attitudes towards appropriate measures and responses and the politics surrounding all of this, I think the accumulated experience is one of a loss of certainty. As a musician it became really difficult to make plans – to book shows or tours or studio time or travel. For me the best and most positive response has been to reorient back towards the actual process or practice of music. To actually orient my activity around practicing or studying the instrument, or to focus on a writing or recording project.
The last album you released under your own name - dub.tape - was a little louder and a touch more experimental whereas this one pulls back into a more intimate sound. Was that a deliberate decision or just the tone of the music that was coming out of you as you wrote these songs?
I like that you are describing dub.tape as louder! That music was made completely without drums or guitars or amps or any of the things I would normally associate with loud music. It was made in my small bedroom studio and almost entirely in headphones so it was a very intimate and personal process. Very solitary. It was the first time I’ve released music that didn’t include any lyric writing or vocals and was definitely composed in a different way than my other records. It was also the first time I’ve really mixed one of my own projects, and it was made with a pretty unique and limited instrumentation (recorder, bass, tambourine, shakers). I got excited about pushing and pulling those sounds into a bunch of different directions.
Volcano Volcano is a return to my song/lyric based practice. I have a pretty soft voice, unless I’m totally screaming or yelling, so that definitely ends up directing the overall sound toward intimacy. I think the lyrics tend to be fairly intimate as well. So, it’s less about making a preliminary decision about exactly how something is going to sound, and more about following the material and really actively listening to what is being constructed, and trying to following through on that in the most interesting and engaging way. This goes for myself, but also for my collaborators Daniel Romano, who’s playing drums on this record, and David Nardi, who’s playing bass. We’re listening to each other and listening to the song as it’s being constructed.
At the same time, it feels like elements of dub.tape landed within Volcano Volcano - a kind of homespun quality as you finished the album at your home. Is this your preferred method of working - setting down the basic tracks in a studio and then doing overdubs at home?
In part, that’s just a really practical solution. Doing the overdubs at home allowed me the time and space to freely experiment, play, and search around completely unselfconsciously. But also, conceptually, I do really like the idea that the music is made with the tools at hand. I love and appreciate beautiful sounding instruments, but I also believe that often cheaper, even half-broken instruments can be made to sound beautiful if they are listened to and played as they actually are, rather than wishing they were something more fancy or “correct”. I’m trying to think about the music as a deep engagement with the sounds of these things, including the plastic recorder, the dollar store shaker, the $30 acoustic guitar from Goodwill, and my own unique voice, as well as the more professional-grade guitar and the well-tuned drums. This also goes for the room you are standing in making these sounds. I’m looking around and thinking, “What can I make with what is here?” So, in some ways the music is as much a process of engagement or participation with the world around me, as it is an act of individual creation.
Images of the natural world - plants, animals, etc. - show up frequently in your lyrics. Do you feel a deep connection with the non-human beings among us? If so, when was that something you became aware of?
I think my writing is filled with all of my encounters with the world and that includes spiders and bats and butterflies and plants and the moon and all sorts of weather, as well as streetcars and cassette tapes and photographs and windows and fences and mirrors. I think those things are all in the lyrics to affirm and celebrate their actual living reality and presence. And I don’t want to say those things belong to separate categories because I believe that it’s the shared and mutual presence of all of these things that together make up the actual existence of the world. And ultimately, I believe we have to truly understand this shared nature of existence if we hope to save the world from our human led destruction.
You've written quite a bit of work under a number of different monikers and with Constantines... are you someone that labors over your songs, or do you try to get things down quickly?
I think a song can happen in so many different ways! When a song does come quickly and easily it is a profoundly happy and mysterious moment. But sometimes they take more labour and exploration and that’s okay too. And sometimes they just sort of slowly and quietly develop over time, or benefit from a period of rest. I really try to stay open and positive about any process, and The Cons were like that too. We were always open to different methods of creation.
You've also worked within a number of different genres. Is that fairly reflective of your own listening habits? Do you have a pretty eclectic library of music to listen to at any given moment?
Oh yeah, absolutely. I’m always interested and curious in hearing new things and listening to different kinds of music, or learning about different kinds of things. I don’t tend to make music as genre exercises, that’s not usually the starting point or the inspiration. And definitely if an album is written and recorded over a year or two I will have listened to a lot of different things in that time that may or may not work themselves into the music. So, it can be a little hard for me to say what part of what fed into any particular idea on an album like Volcano Volcano, because it’s all from a lifetime of listening to and making music, and I don’t know if it would really mean much of anything to say “I was listening to a lot of Crass and Poison Girls when I was walking to the studio”.
Your friend and collaborator Daniel Romano is known to be a very prolific artist, releasing multiple albums in a year... is that something you aspire to as well?
I wouldn’t say I “aspire” to follow Daniel’s lead in anything as particular as that release schedule, but I would say without a second’s hesitation that I’m “inspired” by Daniel. He’s a uniquely and exceptionally talented musician with an incredible work ethic and an astonishing courage as an artist. I’ve definitely tried to learn from him about working decisively and with focus. And I love and admire the world he’s building together with the Outfit – it’s a beautiful family of musicians, filmmakers, photographers, artists, writers. Mutually supportive and deeply caring, and an amazing platform from which they can all make their work.
You've been upfront in other interviews calling yourself a "super weird singer." Your voice is an unusual one but you use it well. Was your singing voice something you always felt comfortable putting out there for all to hear or did it take some time for you to build the confidence to lean into it?
I thank you for any kindness you express towards my voice. I would say my confidence in it ebbs and flows. It’s definitely something that annoys some people and I’m way too aware of that feeling. I’m not a karaoke singer and I rarely do covers. But I think I can maybe deliver the truth of my songs. Though I would also be overjoyed to hear them sung by other voices!
It's been a challenging time for anyone to release music over the past few years with supply delays and pressing plant backlogs. How has it been going for you and the folks at You've Changed Records?
The near impossibility of manufacturing anything on a predictable or reasonable timeline is an almost insurmountable challenge to how we have been working for the last 13 years. We’ve been managing to get records out with relatively minor delays so far, but it’s a huge struggle and it’s a huge stress. Internally, it’s made the whole process less fun, with less opportunity for spontaneity or immediacy, and so more scattered and abstract. This will definitely impact how we are working, but I don’t know what form that will take. It’s just part of the current reality we have to navigate. I’m really grateful that the audience for a label like ours and music like this is for the most part pretty well-informed of the situation and is very understanding and supportive and patient if a record arrives a few weeks later than intended.
What do you all look for when deciding to work with an artist through You've Changed? Is it a sound that catches you or simply wanting to work with people that you know or feel comfortable with?
Mostly it comes out of pre-existing relationships that have developed over some amount of time. The music is obviously a huge part of this, as these are usually our peers or fellow travellers or collaborators. Ultimately the goals and the ways of working have to be mutually inspiring and hopefully beneficial. It involves a lot of conversation and relationship nurturing.
What comes next for you and for You've Changed?
There’s a short record coming out as a follow-up to Volcano Volcano, which is versions or remixes of the final song on the album “Dream with Me”. It’s called The Frenzy of Our Dreams - reconstructions, versions, dialogues” and features Joyfultalk, Colleen Coco Collins, David Nardi, and bUDi. The lyric ends with an invitation and then the track musically enacts an opening outward – I wanted to follow through on that and so offered my tracks up to these artists to respond to in some way. The Joyfultalk track is a total reconstruction into a different song entirely but using my original tracks as the sound sources. Colleen’s is a really interesting intervention; she’s used some of my tracks, but added and subtracted a lot and re-sung the song. David’s is a beautiful solo guitar instrumental version. The bUDi track is pushed and pulled into a fantastic living and breathing soundscape. That’s coming out May 20.
I just completed an original soundtrack for a short film called The Trampled Devil, by my partner, visual-artist Shary Boyle. We’re really looking forward to debuting/screening this at some point this year. We’re waiting on the final colour-correction right now.
I also have a bunch of other music in the works, but some of it I just don’t know exactly when it will get finished and some of it is supposed to be a surprise.
With YC there’s new music this fall from Daniel Romano and The Outfit and a full-length from Status/Non-Status – and some other exciting things in the works too!
What are you listening to / reading / watching these days?
Today while writing you back I listened to a really beautiful concert from 2008 in Brussels by the Ukrainian composer Valentin Silvestrov which is available on his Bandcamp page; the album For organ and brass by Ellen Arkbro; and a sneak-preview of the new Joyfultalk album Familiar Science. I’d be happy to recommend any or all of those. I also just received in the mail (after many months of the manufacturing and shipping delays discussed above) the double LP of Myriam Gendron’s fantastic Ma délire - Songs of love, lost & found and am really looking forward to putting it on the turntable!
I am actually just getting over a case of covid and spent much of the last week sick in bed, and in a state of restlessness, I started to finally, and for the first time, read Ulysses, and I know it sounds horribly pretentious to say “I’m reading Ulysses” and really what could I possibly say about Ulysses anyways, especially only 100 pages in, so instead I’d like to recommend Noopiming by Leanne Betasamosake Simpson which is an astoundingly beautiful, funny, generative book rich in voice, wisdom, and life. (And it was just nominated for the Dublin Literary Award, and so maybe that’s enough of a “connection” to Ulysses to justify the mention!)
REVIEWS
[TV SERIES] Deceit
With naught much else to do during the pandemic but binge podcasts and Netflix docu-series, our continued fascination with true crime stories — the more horrific, the better — has grown by leaps and bounds. The market, naturally, has responded as the streaming services and networks of the world are becoming flooded with new product rehashing gruesome cold cases or chillingly fascinating misdeeds. In England, that meant returning to the scene of a 1992 murder of a young woman on Wimbledon Common. Unsolved until 2002, the killing was a grim obsession for the media in London, which helped push investigators to implicate Colin Stagg, a lonely man who walked his dog in the same area. Convinced of his guilt, the police set up an undercover operation involving a female police officer pretending to be the friend of a woman Stagg had briefly befriended via a classified ad — all in hopes of drawing out a confession. That controversial real life sting serves as the basis for this four part series that originally aired last year on Channel 4 and is now available to stream through Topic. Many of the details remain the same as Sadie, a young woman looking to make a name for herself among her fellow criminal investigators (Niamh Algar), dangles herself out for a young, potentially disturbed man (Sion Daniel Young) under the direction of a creepy psychologist (Eddie Marsan) assisting the police in their inquiries. What Emilia di Girolamo throws into the pot is Satanism, awkward period details, and a good portion of hand wringing over how obsessed Sadie becomes with this case. Necessary dramatic touches to help flesh this out for this limited series, but they also muddy the waters of the story. Too, the actors push their characters and the dialogue right to the edge of reason with weird turns and tics — the slight grin that Algar can't seem to shake; the slimy tone Marsan adds to his every line — that send the story's momentum stumbling at times. Not so much as to completely derail the drama and the show's well-maintained balance of tension and release, but just enough to discolor the edges of the story like a stain.
[ALBUM] Myra Melford's Fire & Water Quintet: For The Love of Fire and Water (RogueArt)
Like the series of drawings by Cy Twombley that inspired it, the music that pianist Myra Melford conceived for this project is multi-layered, colorful, and merrily messy. But within each splash of notes and wriggling solo from Melford and her collective of brilliant female musicians — guitarist Mary Halvorson, percussionist Susie Ibarra, cellist Tomeka Reid, and saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock — are layers of complexity; a latticework to either rest upon or get lost in trying to unravel. Each player seems to be following the same shimmying path that Twombley laid down on the canvas in his work, connecting up with the other musicians at brief intervals before spinning off on their own path. Halvorson, as usual, makes great use of her array of effects pedals, sounding, at times, like a turntablist is remixing her guitar lines in real time or a ringing tribute to Les Paul. Reid serves an understated support role throughout, doubling up Melford's chords during the fourth movement and creaking away below the ping and crash of Ibarra's work and Laubrock's splashier runs. When Reid finally takes flight on a solo, or as she does on the album's sixth movement, lays the foundation with gentle plucks of her cello's strings, she becomes the secret star of the entire album. What rises above everything is the sense of generosity that each of these five players exhibit throughout. Even though her name is dominating the proceedings, Melford's presence is often muted. She sets the stage at the outset of the album but tends to appear in small gusts and showers, leaving ample room for her collaborators to tangle together. Each player responds with openness and care, listening deeply to one another for the right moment to interject, respond, and support. [purchase]
Thanks for reading all the way to the end. Means the world that you would choose to spend some time with this. I'll be back next Friday for all y'all and on Monday with a new premium email. Do no harm. Take no shit.
Artwork for this week's edition is by photographer Rémy Duval.