GEFFEN RECORDS 9130 Sunset Boulevard Los Angeles California 90069 Telephone 310 278 9010 Fax 310 271 4563 1755 Broadway 6th Floor New York New York 10019 Telephone 212 841 8600 Fax 212 247 8852 the Spent Poets Adam Gates (vocals) Matthew Winegar (guitars) Derek Greenberg (bass) John Berg (keyboards) Michael Urbano (drums) My first meeting with The Spent Poets occurred in the country of Morocco. It was 1991 and the band had decided to relocate for a year to a place "where sound is inconsequential." Morocco, with its undercurrents of Islamic mysticism, has intrigued the western artist for years. The list is an impressive one: Paul and Jane Bowels, Truman Capote, Ezra Pound, and the composer Aaron Copland, to name just a few. It was in the city of Fes where I finally met up with the 'Poets.' That week, various members of the band had been enjoying the numerous debaucheries (far too many to list here) of the local atmosphere and they were all in rather curious moods. To say the 'Poets' are intimidating would be a grand understatement, but their general demeanor was congenial and I felt relieved to be with Americans in a place where even the toilet paper seems odd. I was sent by the Magazine's 'New Faces' section to interview the band and to write an article on their forthcoming debut album. The angle of the story was that they were in Morocco and that they had stirred up quite a bit of attention in L.A. by deciding to spend all of their advances on a one-year sabbatical in a strange, violent country. To make things worse, they had informed the Geffen publicity department one day before their departure that they would not provide any interviews for the duration of their stay. They would not even submit to a photo session. The trip turned out to be a strange one indeed. Before the year was over, Michael had returned to San Francisco in total disgust, Derek had nearly been killed by an unusual animal, John had been lost in Northern Morocco for what turned out to be three months, and Adam and Matt were arrested in Egypt for pandering. Most of the following interviews were conducted in claustrophobic, smoke-filled busses traveling from one village to the next. I should say that never at one time were The Spent Poets together for an interview; I never even spoke to or saw Matt. The band members seemed uncomfortable talking about their pasts, almost as if they were hiding something. They would always evade my inquiries, usually by demanding that I indulge in the aforementioned debaucheries. W.S.B.: So, how did you guys meet? Adam: At a glory hole. Derek: Someday, when we are all old men, somebody in the band will provide that information. It isn't terribly interesting. Try another question. W.S.B.: How did you get signed to Geffen? Adam: Our music publisher sent a tape to them. We played two show-cases and Mio Vukovic signed us. W.S.B.: Just like that? Adam: Yes. we don't deserve it, we didn't earn it, and we certainly don't understand it. W.S.B.: Describe your recording process for me. You have been quoted as saying that modern recording is a "blemish" -- what do you mean? Adam: Well, I personally believe that far too many recordings are made in recording studios. The whole process has become so formal, so stated. Parameters are set in the producer's mind before any tape is even spun, so it turns into this very linear road map. Recording in L.A. was like being sodomized by drunken Turks, you know what I mean? W.S.B: But the Beatles recorded in a very stiff atmosphere: Abbey Road. That didn't seem to affect their creative process. Adam: Yes, but the Beatles also had huge amounts of money when they made Sgt. Pepper, which in turn gave them unlimited power and the freedom to experiment. If they had not been famous, they would never have been allowed so much artistic freedom, and the great recording machine, even in the sixties, would have crushed them. No, I believe the only way to make great recordings is to have at least one of the following: 1: Tons of cash and fame. 2: The most blessed record company in the world who allow you to do what you really want on your first album. 3: Your own home studio. We choose, for the most part, the home studio. W.S.B.: What was it like to record at home? Adam: Well, it started with just Matt and me at his mom's house in Fremont. We had an eight-track recorder, a bunch of weird instruments, and loads of time. We would record until we felt tired or bored and then just walk into the living room and watch "People's Court' or make weird food. It was a very fuzzy time, many cans of Mountain Dew were consumed, lives were lost, but there is nothing quite like a living room. Studios try desperately to recreate living rooms, but they always fail. I hate recording studios. I hate them almost as much as I hate myself ... W.S.B.: Huh? Why do you hate yourself? Adam: Because self loathing can be FUN! ******************************************************************************* (Cafe Maugdib, Fes, September 16, 1991) W.S.B.: So where did you find the name? Derek: In an obscure book. W.S.B.: Really? Derek: Actually, the exegesis of our name defies rational interpretation. You can ask John about it, but I don't know where he is. Adam: What is a spent poet? It's a pleasant image of someone who has reached the pinnacle of their existence and in turn lies happily in their own excrement ... I don't know. Some people describe it as meaning apathy, but I can't really define everything for you. Try asking John. Where is John? W.S.B.: Okay. Adam, why the literary references in your lyrics? Specifically, why do you mention such writers as Virginia Woolf, Walt Whitman and Anne Sexton? Adam: There's a certain stigma connected with the writings of the Confessional Poets, especially Sylvia Plath and Sexton. There seems to be a kind of death cult that romanticizes mental illness and suicide. The song "A Bad Case of Melancholy" deals with that. Plath is viewed by many as just a suicide. W.S.B.: What's the song "Walt Whitman's Beard" about? Adam: It's about possible heavens and hells, and my heaven is described in the chorus. I've always thought Walt Whitman was a god-like figure anyway ... W.S.B.: Is everyone in the band well-read? Derek: Well, we read, but as to our collective retention of the material ... Adam: I hate the term "well-read." It's totally subjective bullshit. Plus, it makes me hate myself. W.S.B.: Where are you guys from? Adam: San Francisco. ******************************************************************************* (Cafe Palindrome, Tangier, October 1991) W.S.B.: How would you categorize your music? Adam: It's the Beatles after being deflowered by Sonic Youth. Derek: With John Cage in attendance. ******************************************************************************* (On a bus somewhere between Rabat and Marrakech, November, 1991) W.S.B.: Where did you record the album? John: Some of it was recorded in L.A., some in the Jesus Room, and some in Matt's bedroom, all between April and July of 1991. Adam: Recording in L.A. is like having Fellini as your mother. John: Strange, vibrating iridescent violations. W.S.B.: Okay ... What's the Jesus Room? Derek: An amalgamation of our personalities. Religious icons adorn the walls. No sunlight enters. A horrid smell, reminiscent of old wet goats permeates. It's home to our eight-track studio where five of the album's tracks were recorded. The song "He's Living With His Mother Now" was recorded in a day. That's where we would like to record our next album. You can see a photo of it on the back of the CD. Adam: There's a picture of John Lennon in that photograph. Geffen made us airbrush it out in order to avoid being sued by Yoko Ono. W.S.B.: Who produced your record? Adam: We co-produced with Matt Wallace. W.S.B.: The guy who produced Faith No More? Adam: Yeah, whatever. Jack Joseph Puig engineered and mixed the 24-track material. John: Jack Joseph Puig is Satan. Adam: The Dark One. Derek: Master of all our destinies. ******************************************************************************* It was several months after I returned to the U.S. before I ran into The Spent Poets again. They did not seem to remember me and reminding them of our interview sessions in Morocco drew blank stares. Since my return, I have been undergoing intense therapy. Unfortunately, I believe with the utmost conviction that the roof of my mouth is made from rug and that my hands are receptors for cruel and diabolic codes transmitted from the upper echelon of the Knights of the Templar, a secret society intent upon my demise. This ends my report. W.S.B. Interzone. 0392 FOR MORE INFORMATION, CONTACT: Roxanne Youssef (310) 285-2701