the m agnetic f ields

5o song memoir 86 How I Failed Ethics

87 At the Pyramid
88 Ethan Frome
89 The 1989 Musical Marching Zoo
90 Dreaming in Tetris
91 The Day I Finally...
66 Wonder Where Im From 92 Weird Diseases
67 Come Back as a Cockroach 93 Me and Fred and Dave and Ted
68 A Cat Called Dionysus 94 Havent Got a Penny
69 Judy Garland 95 A Serious Mistake 96 Im Sad!
70 Theyre Killing Children Over There 97 Eurodisco Trio
71 I Think Ill Make Another World 98 Lovers Lies
72 Eye Contact 99 Fathers in the Clouds
73 It Could Have Been Paradise 00 Ghosts of the Marathon Dancers
74 No 01 Have You Seen It in the Snow?
75 My Mama Aint 02 Be True to Your Bar
03 The Ex and I
04 Cold-Blooded Man
05 Never Again

76 Hustle 76 06 Quotes
77 Life Aint All Bad 07 In the Snow White Cottages
78 The Blizzard of 78 08 Surfin
79 RocknRoll Will Ruin Your Life 09 Till You Come Back to Me
80 London by Jetpack 10 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea
81 How to Play the Synthesizer 11 Stupid Tears
82 Happy Beeping 12 You Can Never Go Back to New York
83 Foxx and I 13 Big Enough for Both of Us
84 Danceteria! 14 I Wish I Had Pictures
85 Why I Am Not a Teenager 15 Somebodys Fetish
STEPHIN MERRITT (in order of appearance): National resonator ukulele, bass ukulele, all lead
vocals, bass drum, log drum, slit drum, cymbal, woodblock, tambourine, bells, sleigh bells, cabasa,
bottle, glockenspiel, cavaquinho, Joia Tubes, Dusty Strings harp, Farfisa organ, Dusty Strings
hammer dulcimer, Kazoobie kazoo, Veillette Avante Gryphon guitar, AdrenaLinn drum machine,
Tempest drum machine, Andes melodica, Realistic organ, Sequential Circuits Pro One synthesizer,
Danelectro baritone guitar, mandola, Rhythm Ace drum machine, Harmony bass, Almeira classical
guitar, Wurlitzer electric piano, thunder sheet, Rhodes Piano Bass, Oscar Schmidt autoharp,
Oberheim OB-12 synthesizer, Kamaka 8-string ukulele, feedback, Congost Xylomatic, Simcha
tongs, Roland JP-8000 synthesizer, tapes, TomCat drum machine, shakers, Fender acoustic
bass, Roland TB-303 bass computer, Roland TR-606 Drumatix drum machine, Vermona DRM-1,
Sequential Circuits Prophet-5 synthesizer, Adam bell set, bowed psaltery, Roland vocoder,
xylophone, EML 101 synthesizer, Roland TR-707 drum machine, Dawg electric dulcimer,
Oberheim drum machine, LP Trash Snare, cowbell, bar chime, Metasonix D-1000 drum machine,
Gretsch organ, Rheem Kee Bass, guiro, djembe, cajon, bell stick, LP Street Cans, electric sitar,
Martin 12-string guitar, XBASE 999 drum machine, Yamaha CS-60 synthesizer, Dewanatron
Keyed Melody Gin, Moog Voyager synthesizer, Schoenhut toy piano, Virus Access synthesizer,
Gold Tone bass banjo, Metasonix S-1000 Wretch Machine vacuum tube synthesizer, Marxolin,
metals, one-man band, Critter & Guitari Pocket Piano, charango, celeste, Fender Stratocaster,
Yamaha RX21 drum machine, Fender acoustic bass, Yamaha U4 piano, hihat, wind chime, Hohner
Pianet, Kilpatrick Audio Pattern Generator, Dewanatron Triple Slice, prepared piano, Korg
Sigma synthesizer, zill, triangle, Suzuki Omnichord, ARP String Synthesizer, Baldwin organ,
Casio VL-Tone, ocean drum, Korg KR mini drum machine, abacus

THOMAS BARTLETT: Mellotron, Clavinet, Suzuki Omnichord, Rhodes Bass, piano, Moog, iPad,
Optigan, Teenage Engineering OP-1, Akai Music Production Controller
DANIEL HANDLER: background vocals, accordion, vibraphone, Yamaha and Acrosonic pianos,
Hammond B3 organ, celeste
CHRISTOPHER EWEN: Altair 231, Andromeda A6, Syndrum, Heterodyne Synth, electric kazoo,
anklung, Roland SH-101, Stylophone, BugBrand Synth, K-Station, Suzuki Omnichord, Polysix
SAM DAVOL: cello, circular saw

JOHNY BLOOD: flugelhorn, tuba, mouthpiece

CLAUDIA GONSON: background vocals, piano

PINKY WEITZMAN: viola, Stroh violin, musical saw

JOHN WOO: Martin HD-28, Truetone Speed Demon, Fender Telecaster

SHIRLEY SIMMS: background vocals

RANDY WALKER: background vocals

ANTHONY KACZYNSKI: background vocals

BRAD GORDON: trombone, pocket trumpet

OTTO HANDLER: spoken word

Thats Life, Isnt It
stephin merritt
and daniel handler
STEPHIN MERRITT (SM): Should
we say where we are?
DANIEL HANDLER (DH): I think
its worth thinking about the dis-
tance between where we were when
we were talking about 69 Love
Songs and where we are now.
SM: * [indicates trademark SM pause]
DH: Because then we were in a diner
on Saint Marks Place, unaware that
the project you were embarking on
was going to be a transformative
one for you professionally.
SM: Really? I just assumed that I always
knew that. Otherwise why do it?
DH: Several times while making that
album, you decided you were going
to give up music, if memory serves.
I remember very clearly going to the
diner once, and you had a pro-and-con
list for discontinuing your career.
SM: I wish I had that now. I
probably do somewhere.
DH: I walked in and you saw me
and you added disappointing
Daniel to the con list.
SM: Aw.
DH: But now we are in a glamorous
beach house. Miles away in every
respect. Do you think of this new
record in relation to 69 Love Songs?
SM: I think of it as partly an answer to 69
Love Songs, which was all fiction, more
or less, at least in the way that love songs
are fiction or not. And 50 Song Memoir is
all nonfiction, more or less, at least in the
way that autobiography is extremely con-
structed. I recently started reading Grace
Joness autobiography, for example
DH: I love that book.
SM: Its great. But I had to stop
reading it because I realized it was
going to have too much influence
on the album if I continued.
DH: If you put a drink in me, I can do
an imitation of a couple of paragraphs
from that book, but were only on water
and tea so far. So this was an autobiog-
raphy that began with an invitation.
SM: Yes, the president of Nonesuch,
Robert Hurwitz, took me to the Oyster
Bar in Grand Central Station and
said, I think you should do a 50-song
album of your 50 years on the planet,
and make it an extravaganza.
DH: So, thats a different place from where
you were with 69 Love Songs as well. At
the start of 69 Love Songs I would say
without much exaggeration that you
could not get arrested professionally
SM: Yeah.
DH: And now you are being asked
by a sizeable figure in the music
industry specifically to do this.
SM: Right.
DH: Was it difficult to start to do
autobiography? You are for the
most part a private person.
SM: I am the least autobiographical
person you are likely to meet. I will
probably not write any more true
songs after this than I did before, but
its been interesting working on it.
DH: I have known you for close to 20 years
or thereabouts, and only when you drop
the occasional fact do I learn something
about your life. I have only the barest
sketch. There are not too many people
Ive known that long whom I know so
little about. I think I can sooner place all
of the albums by the Human League in
the order in which you like them than
name three things about your childhood.
For instance, you were apparently born
in 1966, Wonder Where Im From.
SM: No no no no no, I was born in 1965.
DH: OK.
SM: 1966 is the year I turned one. Because
the last one is 50, the first one has to be
one, rather than zero, to add up to 50.
DH: Right, Im realizing. When
did you figure that out?
SM: It wasnt instantaneous.
DH: How would you categorize
Wonder Where Im From?
SM: *
DH: It has a musical influence
that I find difficult to define.
SM: A major songwriting technique for
me is to imagine the songs that other
people have written according to what
the album covers look like, especially
in the record sleeves that used to come
with the albums, with advertisements for
other records especially for inspiration,
and so I think that song came from one
of those. A picture of Papa John, a beach
photograph. By Papa John, I mean,
from the Mamas and the Papas of course.
DH:Not the worst pizza known to man.
Was this song the first one you wrote? I
know you didnt write all of them in order.
SM: There are some songs that kind
of existed since the era in which they
are set. At the Pyramid was written
if not at the Pyramid, then
DH: At a time when one could go.
SM: Well, one can still go to the Pyramid;
its still there at 101 Avenue A. I havent
been in a while, but they still have 80s
night in which they are playing Cyndi
Lauper hits that would not have been
played at the Pyramid in the 80s, when
they were playing The Dominatrix
Sleeps Tonight. But in the case of the
song were supposedly discussing, I
just tried to imagine what Papa John
would write based on that photograph.
DH: This could easily be the flip
side of Papa Was a Rodeo.
SM: Right. Papa Was a Rodeo has its
autobiographical aspect, sure. But I
wasnt currently going out with anyone
named Mike. And in this case, I wasnt
literally conceived by barefoot beatniks.
DH: But you might as well have been.
SM: I believe that the participants
were substantially intoxicated,
given my fathers history.
DH: Im sure your father will come back
later. The picture for Come Back as a
Cockroach, meanwhile, is maybe Betty
Grable mamboing in Moon Over Miami?
That era of film has a big musical influ-
ence on you, which is interesting to me.
SM: Oh yes, Moon Over Miami. Although
I have difficulty with 40s and 50s musi-
cals. I like them but I cannot remember
which is which. I love those dinner club
scenes in musicals. Ive never really been
in a dinner club that is anything like that.
DH: The flavor of mambo here is
not what we would call genuine.
SM: Its probably what they were
playing in the large dinner clubs.
Cheap drinks and who knows what
music. But its kind of a good time.
DH: My son had a good time
with his Magnetic Fields debut
on A Cat Called Dionysus.
SM: Everything I can remember about
Dionysus is probably in the song. I was
listening to interviews with science
fiction authors, and Douglas Adams
said that he had stolen the story of
the origin of The Hitchhikers Guide to
the Galaxy, that he no longer actually
remembers the real event, only telling
the story again and again. So everything
I remember about Dionysus is now
from the song. I suspect my entire life
is going to disappear into this album.
DH: This was a song that I heard when
we were working on the record, and I
didnt know what year any of the songs
were from. I assumed this was from
scruffy days of having bad roommates,
but instead its from childhood.
SM: Yes, we didnt have a roommate,
only a cat. We lived in Syracuse in a
house that was blue on the second floor
and pink on the first floor, or the other
way around, Im not sure. It was a house
from which I first ran away; its one of
my earliest memories. But of course, in
my memory I have a red handkerchief
on a stick with white polka-dots.
DH: Rode the rails for a while, did we?
SM: Yes, I remember it as a clich.
DH: Youre a dog person now. Was
this because of Dionysus?
SM: Im a little allergic to cats, and I adore
Chihuahuas, so I guess Im a dog person.
Im still not comfortable with large
dogs. I was bitten by a German shepherd
when I was little, and had to go to the
hospital and get rabies shots, probably
just a punishment because obviously
the dog didnt actually have rabies.
DH: Another clich?
SM: It was obvious to me that the dog
didnt have rabies. I think we are drifting.
DH: Yes, from Irving Berlin, your first
Chihuahua, to Judy Garland.
SM: Allen Ginsberg did not really
write a sonnet, as the song says. I
made that up. But he was there.
DH: Sometimes you seem to strongly
identify as a gay artist and sometimes
you reject that category altogether.
I remember the first time I bought a
record of yours, the first 6ths record,
that it was a sizeable statement to call
a publishing company Gay and Loud
back then. Were there times when you
were nervous that people would know
you were gay as an artist? Not as a
person, but as a person making music?
SM: No. I think I should have been more
nervous than I was. I didnt think I
thought of myself as a commercial artist
whose prospects might suffer. I thought I
was an art school kid dabbling in music.
Which is probably what I still am.
DH: Do you remember when
you learned of Stonewall?
SM: No. That was well before
I ever went there.
DH: Do you remember your first
encounter with Judy Garland? Pre-
sumably it was The Wizard of Oz?
SM: It was on television
every Thanksgiving.
DH: I think you said in chickfactor, talking
about the production on Somewhere
Over the Rainbow, that one is always
tempted to think about that song
in color. But when you go back and
watch it, shes leaning against a fence
doing little else, in black and white.
SM: Brown and white sepia tone. Its the
same with Theyre Killing Children Over
There; its literally true that Odetta was
the opening act for Jefferson Airplane,
and I remember the show happening in
a red and white tent. But I remember all
tents as red and white, so who knows?
In some memories one is all alone.
DH: I Think Ill Make Another
World is one of several songs on
this record that are about the isola-
tion that you felt in childhood.
SM: Doesnt everyone think of
themselves as isolated, unless they
have siblings or something?
DH: My sister is dear and we had many
adventures together. But when I think
of my childhood I think of being in my
room alone, or walking around by myself.
I dont know if I was really isolated or
if in fact I was chattering away. But
that is definitely my memory of it.
SM: Im fairly sure I was
not chattering away.
DH: You dont say.
SM: I had to be encouraged to talk at
all, like now. I sat in a room by myself.
DH: In the early days of the Magnet-
ic Fields you were one of a group of
people who were called bedroom
artists and you were doing everything
yourself or nearly everything yourself.
SM: The first record was the only record
where I played everything. I didnt record
at home, I recorded it in a studio, but I got
only slightly better sound quality than if
I had recorded it at home. I now think I
should have simply recorded it at home.
DH: But youre a tinkerer. In my experi-
ence with this on the record Id leave for
a little and come back, and there would
be new things added, or two days later
you would send me the new version and
it would be entirely different. That really
reminded me of 69 Love Songs. I was a
fly on the wall for that record too, and
you and I would work really hard for four
hours, and then I would go home and be
exhausted and do nothing, and I would
come back to the studio the next day and
you wouldve added countless overdubs.
SM: I think of myself as liking the part
about sitting around writing songs, and
making a record is just how you learn
the songs. But I was recording from the
age of 14. I had a four-track back in 1979.
DH: I Think Ill Make Another World
has a little bit of a Zombies influence.
SM: From what? Time of the Season
or Shes Not There, or ?
DH: More like Odessey and Oracle. If you
dont hear it, you dont have to admit to it.
SM: It hadnt occurred to me,
but of course I am very fond
of Odessey and Oracle.
DH: For these childhood songs were you
trying to make music that sounded like
music that was made at that time?
SM: No, theres no effort whatsoev-
er put into making any of the music
on this album sound like it came
from the time being described.
DH: When we get to 1981, well talk.
SM: Well, Hustle 76 has a disco
beat because its about disco.
DH: Eye Contact sounds like jazz
in 1972, I think, just when the 60s
had taken jazz as far detached from
melody as you might get, and then
in the 70s it stayed there for a while.
This sounds more like jazz from
that era than Love Is Like Jazz.
SM: I only a few weeks ago discovered
Sun Ras Strange Strings.
DH: Theres a Don Cherry record
I always want to play you. And
is that ocarina on this track?
SM: No, its an Andes melodica, which
is a strange little keyboard instrument;
its a melodica, you blow into it, you
play the notes on the keyboard, but
instead of an accordion-type reed its a
wooden reed, as though you were playing
a recorder. So it sounds like youre
playing a recorder, but its polyphonic.
DH: I never wouldve guessed melodica.
SM: You can make the notes go up
and down in a strange way. SM: Its one of mine. I love a record where
DH: Was there a favorite instrument
that you had on this record?
SM: Im not big on favorite anythings,
but, I would be very sad to lose my Andes
melodica. So sad that I have two of them.
DH: I think of the electric piano as being
your favorite instrument for a long time.
SM: Because it was the largest
instrument in my apartment?
DH: Because you were in the studio,
and it was pink. When you didnt
know what to do you would sit
down at the electric piano.
SM: I do have two actual pianos now,
so I am probably more likely to pound
out ideas on one of the two pianos.
DH: Do you mess around on instru-
ments for your own amusement?
Unattached to a musical project?
SM: When I first get them I do, to figure
out how they work. I know my way
around my pattern generator because
Ive played my pattern generator.
DH: With It Could Have Been Paradise,
theres a pattern of Hawaiian influ-
ence, yes? Hawaiian sounds or what I
think of as Hawaiian sounds are all over
your records. I always thought that if
the High Llamas hadnt made a record
called Hawaii you wouldve done so.
SM: Probably my major Hawaiian
music influence is actually from
the Creatures album Feast rather
than from being exposed to Hawai-
ian music when I lived there.
DH: Thats one of my wifes
favorite records.
a gazillion times, and Ill never hear any-
I can be listening to it and think, Maybe
I should listen to some music now.
DH: We have to explain to our readers that
by your standards thats a compliment.
SM: Ive listened to Tusk so much
that Ive had more than once the
experience of thinking, I think Ill
listen to Tusk now, only to realize
DH: Were going to catch you in
an infinite loop someday.
SM: Theres such a thing as listening
to music too much so that you
actually cant hear it anymore.
DH: What else besides Tusk and Feast?
SM: Desolation Boulevard by Sweet.
A lot of ABBA. Stereolab, Emperor
Tomato Ketchup. Ive also worn out
more than one copy of ELOs Out of
the Blue. John Foxxs Metamatic.
DH: Hardly any of these are records
most people would guess of you.
SM: Well once theyve heard Foxx and
I they will, theyll think differently.
DH: Lets not get ahead of ourselves.
SM: Oh, and all of David Bowie up
until Scary Monsters. When youre
14 and you only have 10 records you
listen to them again and again.
DH: I dont think I could ever listen to a
record now with the kind of attention
Id listen to records with when I was 14.
SM: Do you listen on headphones?
DH: I do, but just not as many times, I
guess, you know? Ive been listening to
my albums alphabetically and it was just
Purple Rain. Ive listened to that record
thing the way I heard that when I was 14.
SM: No.
DH: Its time to talk about your spiritual
beliefs, because the next song is No.
SM: I have no spiritual beliefs.
DH: Yet, you wrote a gospel song.
SM: Ive never listened to Aretha Frank-
lins version of Amazing Grace without
crying, but I have difficulty with very
Christian music. I dont seem to have
any problem enjoying Bach, which is
almost entirely religious, but I just dont
want to hear false statements. Conveyed
with however much enthusiasm.
DH: Next is My Mama Aint. You
have a complicated relationship
with your mother.
SM: Oh, do I?
DH: [Laughs]
SM: Shes a complicated person. She
is okay about wanting to be called a
beatnik. She was described in an article
as my free love mother and she wrote
me saying, What the hell is a free love
mother? And I explained to her that it
just meant that she was a free spirit. And,
so now shes adopted the idea and she
signs her e-mails to me FLM. So, she
definitely does have a sense of humor.
DH: Has she heard the songs about her?
SM: No, she hasnt heard anything yet.
DH: Do you anticipate any problems?
SM: No. I dont say anything
false or mean.
DH: In my experience, not saying
anything false does not mean that
no one is going to be upset. Moving
on; do you remember the real
music that inspired Hustle 76?
SM: The record never came.
DH: Thats a sad story.
SM: I think I actually forgot to mention
that in the song, which is strange
because it is certainly the entertaining
part of the story. I ordered it, it never
came, so Ive spent my life replicating.
DH: Imagining.
SM: And I finally, suddenly, last year
or so, two years ago, remembered that
there is such a thing as the Internet
now, and I ordered it. And I ordered
it for myself to come on my birth-
day. A friend of mine also ordered it
to come in time for my birthday.
DH: Happy Birthday, Mr. Merritt.
SM: Within a few hours of each other.
DH: Do you want to say something
about Randy who sings on the song
and many other songs, but sings
prominently on this song?
SM: Randy is the leader of Carletta Sue
Kay, who opened for us recently, but
can never open for us again because
theyre much more entertaining than
we are. They go into the Kiki and Herb
bin of Too Good to Open for Us.
DH: And hes sung now on
two or three records.
SM: *
This is only the second
record hes sung on.
DH: OK.
SM: I think.
DH: Right. Like No, Life Aint All
Bad also has a churchy feel to it.
SM: Thanks to your stylings
on the Hammond B3.
DH: Youre very kind to say so. Its
true, I take it, that you worked
on an ice cream truck.
SM: Yes.
DH: It made me curious if ice cream trucks
have also had a musical influence on you.
SM: *
DH: Being as you were exposed
to them at a tender age.
SM: Good question. I dont remember
the music on the ice cream truck.
DH: Next up we have The Blizzard of
78, which feels like John Fahey to me.
Do you feel like hes been an influence?
SM: I dont know. Im not always good
with knowing whether Ive been
influenced by something. Ive heard
a lot of John Fahey. Ive heard a lot of
guitar music that is clearly culturally
enhanced by having heard John Fahey.
Partly because I cant use my pinky,
which was broken the only time that I
ever went to gym class in junior high
school, and they damaged my pinky by
throwing a ball at me, and it never really
recovered. I cant do trills on my pinky, I
cant play as a four-finger guitar player,
and just because Django Reinhardt
had fewer fingers than that and was a
much better guitar player than I
DH: Hes also a much more
violent drunk than you.
SM: Im working on both.
DH: I like late-period Fahey. Theres
I also like the extremes of bubblegum,
kind of finger picking and slide in the
early records, and then the late records
are much slower and gloomier and
overladen with unpleasant noises.
SM: Like me.
DH: Once, for instance, I let myself into
my house, years ago, and I heard John
Fahey on the stereo and I thought,
Thats funny, Lisa hardly ever plays
John Fahey, and I went upstairs and it
was my son with a toy ukulele banging
it on the side of the kitchen counter.
BOTH: [Laugh]
DH: The static-y glitch on this
songit made me think back on
the history of unpleasant noises
on Magnetic Fields records.
SM: Oh, you think its a guitar. Thats
why youre asking me about Fahey.
Its a dulcimer. Its a three-string cigar
box instrument, which only just held
together long enough for me to get the
patch chord secure, so at certain points
in the song I change position to allow it
to buzz horribly. I would love to be able to
do the same thing live, but I dont think
its reliable enough to take on tour.
DH: Youre hardly reliable enough to
take on tour, with all due respect.
SM: Im worried about that, yeah.
DH: Nevertheless your love of very
startling sounds that most people would
find extremely unpleasant and never
put on a pop record is remarkable.
SM: Well, listen to Depeche Mode, youll
be hearing all sorts of things. As far as
I am concerned, I have always liked
unusual sounds and noisy music. But
so I like the chaos of flirting with both,
rather than being wishy-washy about
both. I dont usually like music that
has a little order or a little chaos. Its
the same with any artform, really.
DH: I can picture you putting
Andy Warhols Empire and Moon
Over Miami on a double bill.
SM: When I see slow movies, I think,
Is this slower than Empire? No.
DH: Speaking of long and maybe
boring, I noticed in the lyric sheet for
RocknRoll Will Ruin Your Life you
have a cue for a 10-minute guitar solo.
SM: Yes. I havent edited the lyric
sheets yet. There are also verses
that dont exist and vestigial
verses and imaginary verses.
DH: It seems appropriate at the start of
this decade to talk a little bit about
80s music. Theres hardly a review
of your work that doesnt say some-
thing like, often sounding like a
throwback to techno pop of the 80s,
even if its one of your records that has
no synthesizer on it, for instance.
SM: Right. I remember reading a review
of the House of Tomorrow, complain-
ing about the keyboards, of which
there arent any. But yes, I grew up in
the 80s. Im a New Waver. My motto
is, Dont touch me, Im New Wave. DH: You seem didactic enough in How
DH: London by Jetpack. This has
the rickety old-fashioned futurism
one will always associate with
the Magnetic Fields. Nowadays
one calls it, um, steampunk?
SM: They say steampunk is what happens
when goths discover the color brown,
which sounds like me. Family lore has
it that my great-grandfather invented
the machine that makes hook-and-
loop fasteners, known commercially
as Velcro. (I doubt it; the chronology is
wrong.) I was wearing a lot of jump-
suits in those days, probably involving
lots of Velcro-sealed pockets.
Isnt it strange that driverless cars
are coming into fashion before jet-
packs? The real world is so boring!
DH: Quite. One of the things about
electronic music, I think, is that
it sounds old-fashioned even as
it sounds modern. Do you think
thats part of its appeal to you?
SM: In fact, the older electron-
ic music is, the more modern it
sounds. Isnt it wonderful?
More and more I think I want to make
fake electronic music, where real
instruments make sounds strange
enough that the listener assumes theyre
electronic. Except I also want nothing
to do with amplification or recording.
I may turn into some kind of purist at
any moment, but Id want a new kind.
Maybe I could reject everything more
than two minutes long. A minute and a
half? Bartoks From the Diary of a Fly
is a minute twenty. Maybe everything
longer than that should fade out.
to Play the Synthesizer. This is 1981, so I
wondered, do you have a memory of your
first electronic pop record that you heard?
SM: I was really into Stevie Wonders
Innervisions, which is basically his
record with Tontos Expanding Head
Band, or one of four. I liked the sense of
very musical uses of sounds that hadnt
been heard before, such as the worlds
largest Moog synthesizer. But what was
the first thing I heard where it was clearly
all electronically produced? Hmm.
DH: Well, when I listened to How to Play
the Synthesizer, I remembered realizing,
hearing some electropop song on the
radio, Oh, theyre playing rock & roll, but
instead of drums and guitars it sounds
like the microwave oven timer. And that
was really attractive to me right away.
SM: I remember when the Human
Leagues Dare came out, in 1981, I
thought it was produced entirely
on electronics. Conspicuously
entirely on electronics.
DH: I remember reading about when
synthesizers were first being used by the
BBC, and musicians were worried about
being replaced, and that one of their
claims they were trying to make was that
it wasnt music, that it was machines,
so therefore it couldnt be music.
SM: Right. And BBC Radiophonic
Workshop made both sound
effects and tonal material.
DH: The planetarium shows in San
Francisco had music that was all elec-
tronically generated. I always thought,
Why dont they sell this record? But my
parents said it too and they meant it. It
isnt music, what youre listening to.
SM: Right. The electronic tonalities
of Bebe and Louis Barrons Forbid-
den Planet soundtrack couldnt be
called music for union reasons.
Who, now, would say it isnt music?
Its not only music, its Wagneri-
an leitmotifs used in a completely
traditional way, only its atonal.
DH: The repetition is a big part of
it. I remember I bought the Sweet
Dreams 12-inch wishing that the
flip-side would be an instrumental.
SM: Is the B-side Jennifer?
DH: I cant remember what it was. I think
it may be I Could Give You a Mirror.
And speaking of Happy Beeping
SM: Oh, yes. So, my mothers horren-
dous boyfriend tore up my counterpoint
homework and tacked it to my door
one night with a note saying, Happy
Beeping. Apparently because he
felt that it was his now, so I shouldnt
have left my counterpoint homework
on the piano. And I found that so
strange and so memorable, and I still
remember it although I dont remem-
ber much else from his tenure.
DH: Do you feel like you were,
with all of these misadven-
tures, in an abusive home?
SM: *
DH: We could just move on to
SM: There were certainly dangerous
moments, but I was not knowingly
in danger except when the subject
of Life Aint All Bad vandalized
our brakes. That was straight out of
Charles Addams. And naturally my
mother doesnt remember that.
DH: Foxx and I, speaking of electro-
pop titans. So, tell me this story.
SM: Well, when I was 16 I wanted
to be John Foxx, essentially,
and I still do, essentially.
DH: John Foxx, for our unobsessed
listeners at home
SM: John Foxx was the original leader of
Ultravox! He did their first three albums,
the first of which was produced by Eno
and Steve Lillywhite. They defined an
aesthetic, a particular kind of J.G. Bal-
lardian electropop, and also a philosophy
which I now recognize as Epicurean,
in which emotion, for its own sake, is
to be avoided positive and negative.
DH: And, musically, what do you think
the closest song of yours to being
John Foxx is? Is it Foxx and I?
SM: It might be How to Play the Synthe-
sizer. Except the one time I played a solo
on the Future Bible Heroes song Im a
Vampire. Its a two note solo, two notes
being the same note an octave apart.
DH: So by two you mean one?
SM: Yeah. E-E-E-E. And that might be
the most John Foxx thing that Ive done
on a record. I had the Roland Drumatix
and the Roland TB-303 Bassline, which is
a synthesizer, playable only as a bassline.
Its now the basis of acid house music
and techno. The reason that it costs
$6,000 to buy one and not $250, like it
did when I bought one, is that its highly
in demand because of its un-sample-
like use of the machine itself. It has an
almost completely different quality
from using a sample of it. Its always
been true that you cant really sample
bass. As soon as you play a different
note, the timbre changes drastically.
DH: We have quite naturally
come to Danceteria!
SM: Oh, yes. I went to Danceteria
every night except Monday nights,
when they were closed.
DH: Its something youve talked
about, but I have a lot of trouble
picturing you in a nightclub.
SM: We grew up in nightclubs.
DH: Yes, but I wasnt there, so I
have trouble picturing it.
SM: I was substantially doing the same
thing I do now sitting in the corner,
having drinks spilled on me by members
of Yello, and refusing to fraternize with
people around the bar. I was by myself
most of the time, but I sometimes hung
out with friends that I had met there.
I was suddenly then not a teenager.
DH: Thats cute, because were at
Why I Am Not a Teenager.
SM: Oh, the order of songs on this record
is intentionally a little fluid, as time is, so
that I can be allowed to fix problems such
as came up in the original alphabetical
sequence of 69 Love Songs, when we
realized that the first eight songs were
quiet and acoustic. So, I dont know
why this is 1985 particularly. Theres
nothing about 1985 in the song except
that I turned 20, which I guess is a good
time to sum up the experience of being
a teenager, which then, as now, Im sure,
is largely a lousy one. At least for people
like me, if there are any. I certainly didnt
enjoy being young and simultaneous-
ly ignorant and arrogant about it.
DH: What would you call the
style of this music?
SM: As with much of the record, I would
avoid being pigeonholed if possible. I
noticed on the way here, endangering my
life and those of others, by trying to listen
to the record on the iPhone by typing in
the name of each song to call them up,
when I should have been driving on the
highway, I noticed that the first electric
guitar that you hear on the record is
three songs away from halfway through.
DH: Yes, but people like me think
everything is guitar, so I dont think
that will be particularly noticed.
SM: If I avoid bearing down too
hard on particular genre markers,
maybe I can get away with it.
DH: I guess I was just asking because I
also have trouble naming it, but its very
Magnetic Fieldsy, this song. Its kind
of what I think of as your post69 Love
Songs sound, even though you have, of
course, made many, a zillion sounds.
Well, it doesnt sound like Distortion,
it doesnt sound like Chinese opera, it
doesnt sound like Oahu on Hyacinths
and Thistles, but there is a kind of
Magnetic Fieldsy sound that is often
acoustically played, but stripped and
square in its rhythm. It doesnt swing.
Not only does it not swing like jazz or
R&B, but it doesnt swing even like Irish
folk music. It swings like a pendulum.
SM: Probably thats partly that theres a
rhythm unit thats not used like a rhythm
unit, in that you dont hear the same
thing again and again. And its not in
the front of the mix, so it doesnt sound
like youre supposed to be listening to
it as the drums, to which you will, ha
ha, dance along. Percussion tracks.
My mother describes them as boring.
DH: I would not describe them as boring.
SM: *
DH: How I Failed Ethics. This
here, your memory seems quite
clear. I dont know what you
dramatized or embellished, but
SM: Very little, if anything.
DH: It sounds not only like you re-
member every detail, but if you were
led to argue with that professor, you
would use the exact same arguments.
SM: I am certainly less arrogant now
than I was then. Now I think its
adorable. At the time I thought I was
fighting the good fight. I must have
been completely insufferable. And
yet, I was more right than he was.
DH: I have a memory of an argument
with a professor. I know I must
have been an idiot. I know what
I was wearing and I know what I
looked like. But I wasnt wrong.
SM: [Laughs]
DH: I think of her from time to
time. Shes gone on to great glory
in her field, I might add.
SM: Which is what?
DH: Philosophy. Speaking of which,
tell our readers what the Pyramid is.
SM: The Pyramid was a nightclub the
size of a dive bar, with a very small dance
floor in the back room, with a very small
stage, where they would have theatrical
drag shows, or, I once saw the Fabulous
Pop Tarts there, who are now World of
Wonder. They produce RuPauls Drag
Race, for example, and did that great
Tammy Faye documentary, The Eyes of
Tammy Faye. But back when they were
just the Pop Tarts. So, the song refers to
my vividly remembered crush on a guy
I never spoke to, a name I never learned,
but as in Citizen Kane, when one of the
interviewees mentions that memory is a
funny thing, he still remembers the girl
on the boat. I went to the Pyramid quite
a lot, so its good to have it on the record,
whereas I only actually went to Save the
Robots a few times. Save the Robots was
kind of dangerous. The ground floor was
a sandbox and it was lovely to sit in the
sand and play with the sand, until you
found a syringe. Im not generally all that
squeamish, but I dont like sharp objects.
DH: At the Pyramid has a long
intro, which I think of as un-
characteristic for you.
SM: Its from 1986 or 7, the recording is.
DH: So that was you fooling around
on the synthesizer in 1987?
SM: Me, or Claudia. Im not sure.
DH: Wow. Are there more of those
artifacts on this record?
SM: I tried to use a range of recording
technologies and decades. I dont think
I have anything from the 70s, but I
definitely have the 80s, 90s, zeros, and
teens. And I recorded parts on cassette,
and on my four-track, my beloved four-
track which Im going to buy again.
DH: Can you separate the moments
when you are using this kind of tech-
nology for the lark of the technology,
and when youre using it as part of a
gambit for making something?
SM: Well, my studio is on the third floor
of my house. I dont have a high-quality
way of recording the piano downstairs. I
could take some decent digital recording
method down the stairs with me, but I
could also just take my iPhone and play
the piano part on the iPhone and edit it
later, so its on a few different things.
DH: If we go look at your recording
techniques or instrument choices, there
sometimes appears to be a method to
your madness, and other times there
appears to be madness to your method.
Weve talked about this aspect of your
work before that you are both a perfec-
tionist and delighted by happy accidents.
SM: There are two songs on this record
that accidently got on the wrong sample
rate, and so the tempo increased, and
I liked it. And theres another song
where I didnt like it, so we didnt use
the faster tempo. I like happy acci-
dents, but I like to choose them.
DH: Sometimes in the studio its, do it
again, do it again, do it again, and some
complicated thing were trying to get
exactly right, and then sometimes its,
were using it, thats the only take.
SM: Sam would dearly love to be able
to play The Charm of the Highway
Strip over again, because I basically
didnt wait for him to learn the parts.
I recorded him while he was learning
the parts, but I wanted something that
sounded maximally different from the
synthesizer. So I wanted horse notes.
DH: Speaking of surprise, here we are
at Ethan Frome. You are called a
literary songwriter or literary artist
so many times, and I think these
are the most extreme, clear literary
references actually in your work.
SM: It was originally written in 1988
and later I added the verse about how
I read it every year on my birthday.
I actually dont sing it in the song,
but I read Ethan Frome every year on
my birthday for about ten years.
DH: It surprises me a little that it was not
recorded earlier, just because its catchy.
I feel like in prime chickfactor era that
would have been a huge hit, if by hit you
mean a song that 200 people liked.
SM: I dont know what I would have
put it on. This is the first time I have a
record that seems like its appropriate
to have Ethan Frome on it at all, and
Im still not sure how appropriate it
is. Its certainly not about my life.
DH: Nor is The 1989 Musical Marching
Zoo. I am completely confused by
this song. I dont know what it is.
SM: Okay, as part of Kasenetz-Katz
Singing Orchestral Circus, one of the
groups was the 1989 Musical Marching
Zoo, who wore animal heads. Kasenetz-
Katz was a bubblegum super group
created by record producers Jerry
Kasenetz and Jeff Katz, consisting of
various Super K Production groups.
DH: This happened in 1989?
SM: No, it had happened in 1968. And
the 1989 Musical Marching Zoo was a
group that existed, as far as I know, only
for the first album of the Kasenetz-Katz
Singing Orchestral Circus and they had
no members because they appeared
only in animal masks, as you might
if you were on the cover of Magical
Mystery Tour. It looked like they were
an outtake from the Magical Mystery
Tour cover shoot. Like one should.
DH: Youre not saying you suspect
them of being the Beatles, I take it?
SM: Hadnt occurred to me. In fact I
suspect them of being the Ohio Express.
DH: How did you find bubblegum pop?
SM: On the radio when I was five. My first
record I bought was ABC by the Jackson
5. On the back of a box of cereal. So the
first record I bought was cardboard.
DH: Right. Cant get more
bubblegum than that.
SM: Yes, it was actually part of the food
packaging. And I bought Bay City Rollers
and the Sweet and ABBA, and that was
my focus when I was nine and 10.
DH: So do you have fond memories
of the 1989 Musical Marching Zoo?
SM: No, I cant remember which song
they did. What I like about them,
besides their name, obviously, is their
photo shoot. Like the Residents, you
dont know what they look like. It
was perfect for me to describe what
I wanted to do. The Magnetic Fields
didnt have any photos. We were not
photographed for years. It was the year
we put out Crowd of Drifters on The
Marvels of Insect Life. I think thats
our first release, and that was 89.
DH: And what was your vision or level of
ambition for the Magnetic Fields in 1989?
SM: I think I wanted to be the
Young Marble Giants.
DH: What did that mean to you?
SM: I wanted to make records that I
wanted to listen to. And I didnt want
to make records that sounded like each
other. So, I made Crowd of Drifters and
I didnt want to sing on it, so I had Susan
Anway sing on it. And it wasnt just that
I was cultivating anonymity, but that I
had a horrible, horrible singing voice
at the time. Right now Im Pavarotti,
compared to my singing voice in 1989.
DH: Were you thinking about an
audience at all? Were you imagining
people listening to your records?
SM: No. I still dont. I had no
idea who would listen to it.
DH: That seems a little lonely, which
brings us to Dreaming in Tetris.
SM: Everyone thinks that theres
going to be nuclear war, so they
die anyway of contagious diseases.
It is sort of sad, isnt it?
DH: When I first listened to it, I thought
its the wrong year because death and
destruction seemed more like the 80s,
seemed more like the era of nuclear
nervousness. But it occurred to me that
this was perhaps the divide of growing
up straight and growing up gay.
SM: Horrible year.
DH: Yes. The Day I Finally seems
an appropriate next tune. This is
recorded live, I presume? I mean,
not in front of people, but one has
the impression of you wandering
around a room banging on things.
SM: Its me playing the one-man band,
which is percussion set on a stick. So
Im holding onto all the percussion
instruments arranged on a stick, and
the cymbal at the top is on a spring so
that when you drop it on the floor it
plays the cymbal. At the same time, I
play a very simple three- or four-note
line with the hand in which Im holding
the stick, on the pocket piano. So its
live in the sense that I was doing it all
at the same time. And the joke we
stopped and consulted the giant limerick
book and found a nice, out-of-copy-
right limerick to use as the joke.
DH: Why is this 1991?
SM: Thats when I started getting
seriously depressed and felt
as described in the song.
DH: And in Weird Diseases.
SM: Well, depression is not one of
the weird diseases. I think depres-
sion is extremely common.
DH: I dont know if this was on sonic
purpose, but Weird Diseases reminds
me and was made about the time that
I first heard your music. Grunge was
in its birth, and there wasnt much
electronic stuff happening at all. I mean,
much of it was actually electronic but
it was trying not to sound electronic.
SM: Garbage, for example, was an elec-
tronic band who used guitar samples.
DH: It was around 1992 that I started
playing the accordion because I wanted
to be in bands and there was no call for
a synthesizer at Wesleyan University
under any circumstances whatsoever.
SM: I didnt know that.
DH: Yes. Weird Diseases sounds
exactly like the techno-pop you were
beginning in the 90s that stood
in stark contrast to the grunge.
SM: Yes, but meanwhile, in clubland,
acid house was all the rage.
DH: Its true. When you went dancing,
you heard the most abstract electronic
music. Something like Love Shack
maybe could get in, but there werent
very many songs at a dance club after
that, not what youd think of as a
song verse-chorus-verse, vocals.
SM: Martha Wash was the only vocalist
allowed in a club in that year.
DH: I have a memory of being at the Caf
San Marcos in San Francisco and the
only vocal that I heard that night was
a sample from a Madonna song, Hey
girls! and that the club exploded when
they heard that. Everyone was so excited,
and I remember thinking, Maybe some
other songs with vocals would be nice.
SM: Its distracting if youre on X.
DH: Speaking of distraction, Me
and Fred and Dave and Ted.
SM: Oh, yes. The names have
been changed to protect the
DH: Rhyme.
SM: The rhyme, yes. As elsewhere on
the album, there are only a few real
names on this one. I was going out
with Fred. But Fred was going out
with Dave, Dave was going out
with Ted, that sort of thing. It was all
very predictable, like reggae coming
back every five years on the radio.
DH: Well, speaking of reggae coming
back every five years, heres Havent
Got a Penny, in full Scritti Politti mode.
SM: Well, Scritti Politti was several
reggae revolutions previous. There
was an actual moment, when I was
eight or so, when my mother sat me
down and said, This is our only
dollar bill. And I think we immedi-
ately went on welfare. But I was even
poorer than that in 1993 and 1994.
DH: What were you doing?
SM: Eating bagels. I had just moved to
New York and didnt have a job, and
my mother gave me some money for
rent. Eventually I started working at
Spin and got some money, but before
that I think the only income source
I had was the occasional Magnet-
ic Fields show under ACME.
DH: Getting some Hennessey from the
bartender, does that count as an income
source? I remember in my brokest days
that I had a kind of self-hypnosis, where
I would say, This is going to look very
glamorous and scruffy and bohemian.
And now its almost the opposite self-
hypnosis; Ill say, Oh gosh, wasnt
that great when we were all in New
York and we had no money? and
then I think, No it wasnt! It was
terrible! Dont say it was great.
SM: Being penniless, for me, was not
something I had descended into. It was
something that happened now and
then. 1994 was probably the longest
time of being quite, quite penniless, and
eating only bagels for one summer.
DH: If its not Scritti Politti, what is
the sound here? It sounds like the
ultra-clean fake reggae of Ace of Base.
SM: For me, the influence is not di-
rectly from reggae but from the Clash,
Sandinista!, with which I get com-
parisons on a daily basis because its
a three-record set. Ive been eating at
a restaurant nearby, Mexican Radio,
which is oddly a Mexican restaurant
where they play only reggae, almost
entirely. It must be a Bob Marley
reggae channel, some service where
music is like tap water and you select
Bob Marley and you get every third
song is from Bob Marleys greatest
hits. And Ive never really appreciated
the production on Bob Marley until
I started going there several times a
week and noticing how wonderful it is.
DH: I lived for a summer in Jamaica,
in high school, and Bob Marley was
the most profound musical influence
Id ever seen on a culture. Back then I
knew who he was and some of his big
hits, but that was the extent. And then I
was on a bus, a song of his came on and
everyone was crying. I was confused. I
thought he must have died more recently
than I had thought. But he hadnt.
SM: What year was it?
DH: It was 1987. And I saw that kind
of thing all over Jamaica, a con-
nection of a profundity I had never
experienced. Someone had said to
me, Oh, its like Elvis in America,
and I thought, No, its not at all like
Elvis in America. It was political and
spiritual and musical all at the same
time. America doesnt have anyone
like that, a single figure like that.
SM: We never will.
DH: How would you describe the
production on A Serious Mistake?
SM: *
DH: Maybe
SM: First Psychedelic Furs album?
DH: OK.
SM: My worst Richard Butler imitation.
DH: I know what Im Sad! sounds
like. It sounds like you at the Knitting
Factory in 1998 doing Magnetic Fields
shows and thered be a couple of
Gothic Archies songs in the middle
of it, and it sounded like that.
SM: Yes, The Tiny Goat live. Im not
the one playing, though. Its Thomas
Bartlett, whos an infinitely better piano
player than I am. He plays piano with
Antony and the Johnsons and Martha
Wainwright I cant remember and
hes also a solo artist as Doveman, which
I bought for the cover and turned out
to like. I liked his unusual approach to
singing, which he doesnt do very much
anymore. He doesnt want to be a singer.
DH: Whats the best record you
bought purely for its package?
SM: Off the top of my head, a
seven inch by the Weekend.
DH: Theres an R&B outfit
now called the Weeknd.
SM: Yes, and there was Working Week
and another oh, Vampire Weekend. But
for me theres always only one Weekend,
and their wonderful cover artist, Wendy
Smith, who did the first two Magnetic
Fields records, which are about to come
out on vinyl, finally, with big cover art.
DH: Eurodisco Trio, here we are in 1997.
SM: Right. This is my Future
Bible Heroes song.
DH: Is that Chris Ewen playing on it?
SM: Its not really a Future Bible
Heroes song. Its just about being
a Future Bible Heroes song. In the
verses Im clinically depressed and
suicidal, and in the choruses Im a
fabulous international pop act.
DH: The sleep life and the
waking life, presumably.
SM: Presumably one is a lie.
DH: Which brings us conveniently to
Lovers Lies. Perhaps you will hate
this, but it actually sounds quite 1998.
SM: Does it?
DH: It does. It has that late-90s pop
feel where all of the instruments
are going all of the time. I mean, its
usually done badly. Its the same kind
of approach when Alanis Morissette
was in her heyday. Three guitars,
drums and percussion, bass, and five
keyboards going, and when in the
third verse she takes it a little quieter,
its just two guitars, one keyboard
every inch of sonic space is taken up.
SM: So youre saying its over-produced.
DH: No, but its thickly produced.
SM: No, its over-produced. I had a
complete version of it which I wasnt
happy with, and I gave it to Thomas
Bartlett, who did a different set
of backing tracks but to the same
tempo, and so I put back in what I
missed hearing from my version.
DH: Do you want to talk
about your love life?
SM: Without using names, if possible.
DH: Well, go on.
SM: Lovers Lies is a boyfriend who,
it later turned out, was a pathological
liar. Dale Peck has a whole chapter
about him. Apparently he went out
with Dale Peck before he went out with
me, which I didnt know at the time.
DH: Thats how it works with a liar.
SM: So he allowed everyone to believe
that he was HIV-positive, because
he was an AIDS activist, and it just
seemed simpler. But he was not in fact
HIV-positive, and eventually that got
out, and he became a pariah, persona
non grata, and had to leave the area.
DH: I dont know if persona non grata
is the best or worst segue to Fathers
in the Clouds, but here we are. Your
father is a complicated story, and he
pops up here and there on this record,
and Im curious what you have to say.
SM: Ive only met him twice. I have met
him the same number of times that I
met my mothers first husband, who is
on my birth certificate. And I dont feel
like I have an emotional attachment
to him, so the expectation of having
an emotional attachment is difficult.
He maybe has more of an emotional
attachment to me than I do to him. He
has other actual children, so he has a
sense of what maybe it means to have
one and I dont. I dont have that par-
allel. If I was going to meet my father it
should be on The Oprah Winfrey Show,
but by the time I met him there was
no Oprah Winfrey Show. I guess you
can never go back to Chicago either.
DH: There was an idea for a while
that he was going to cover a bunch
of your songs on a record.
SM: Oh yes. There was a Kickstarter
campaign, which I guess did not get
kickstarted. I dont know how that works.
DH: How did you feel about that,
regardless of the results?
SM: I always want to love other peoples
covers of my songs. I certainly love
Peter Gabriels cover of The Book of
Love, which bought me a house, or a
down-payment on a house, but I would
have hated to have to hear the album
and then not like it or not like all of
it. Its never occurred to me that my
mother should make a cover album
of my work. Do you feel that your
mother should do readings for you?
DH: Not for the first time have I
thanked the Lord that I am not the
subject of these liner notes.
SM: Its a strange idea, a parent
covering a child like that.
DH: Yes, I believe theres not a lot of prece-
dence. Sad Hollywood stories, however
SM: Sad Hollywood stories?
DH: Ghosts of the Marathon Dancers.
SM: Oh, yes, a movie that I wrote songs
for that didnt end up getting made. One
doesnt usually write about these things,
but I have a few songs where I write about
things that didnt happen. There was
a popular French musical which they
were going to make an American version
of, and who better to do that than me?
So they hired me, and I wrote music,
but it fell through, so I had the choice
between signing a contract to get paid
and keeping the songs but not getting
the money, and I just kept the songs,
which is good because one of them is
Ghosts of the Marathon Dancers, so
I in fact got to use things again. And
there are other songs; I Wish I Had
an Evil Twin was originally in that.
DH: No, I believe that is from one
of our two unfinished musicals.
SM: Is it?
DH: Yeah. I Wish I Had an Evil Twin
is from The Song from Venus.
SM: That doesnt mean that it wasnt first
in something else, but I dont remember.
Explain what it is that were doing.
DH: We are now going to make sidecars.
Were in the 21st century; we deserve a
drink. My sister gave me this. She left
it in the house for me, and she said, I
left something in the house for you,
and youre going to be furious with
me, and then youre going to use it,
and youre going to use it every day.
Get down on your knees and thank
me. And that is exactly what hap-
pened. Even knowing that she said
that, when I walked in I thought, Jesus
Christ, this is ugly. And then I used it.
SM: It is called what?
DH: It is a Jimmy Buffettendorsed,
Margaritaville-brand margarita
machine. What would you endorse
in the cocktail world?
SM: Well, I guess Id endorse Courvoisier.
Ive recently discovered Pierre Ferrand
Cognac, which I kind of like as well.
I like Armagnac, but I cant tell the
difference between various Armagnacs
well enough to have an opinion. Its just
that I dont like all Cognacs but I like
all Armagnacs, and I dont even know
what the difference is between them.
DH: One night in New York I was broke
and it was raining, and I was invited
to a dinner party where I didnt know
people that well, and I took the subway
up and I got there 45 minutes early,
and they werent good enough friends
at all to show up 45 minutes early, so I
went into a corner bar to read my TLS. I
said, Id like some Cognac, please, and
she said, What kind? We have one on
special, and I said, That sounds great,
and they handed me some Cognac,
which I drank to warm my body, hardly
noticing a thing, and then the bill came,
and I remember, it was 65 dollars.
SM: They thought, if you can afford
The Times Literary Supplement,
you can afford anything.
MARGARITA MACHINE: [unintelligible]
SM: Ooooh, it looks just like apple
sauce, with an umbrella in it.
And matching yellow straws.
DH: And its nice that we have the
iced drink just as we get to Have
You Seen It in the Snow?
SM: My 9-11 song. Written for Kiki and
Herb. They did it at the Fez. It was for
their Christmas show. Have You Seen It
in the Snow? was a particularly grueling
part. It was like that Laurie Anderson
show just a few days after. Brutal. Sitting
through We see him only in parts.
DH: There is no pilot.
SM: Here come the planes, theyre
American planes, made in America.
Smoking or non-smoking. Anyway, so,
thats my contribution to the literature
of 9-11 songs. My mom said, How can
you live in this ugly place? New York
is squalid and dirty, and your block is
druggy and filthy, and she came up to
the apartment and I took her out on the
fire escape, and she saw that it was a
garden, a leafy, quite lovely garden. And
that night it rained, and as always, New
York is incredibly beautiful in the rain.
DH: That apartment was part of your
limited list of haunts at the time.
Dicks Bar was another. You were on
the cusp of pop quasi-stardom and
writing many, many songs there.
SM: Yes, Be True to Your Bar, which
is trying to be a pub sing-along, such
as they have in Britain, where they
really do all burst into song when-
ever, say, Bohemian Rhapsody
comes on, or a Slade song.
DH: Its not restricted to pubs. Ive been
to many a dinner party at the home of
some British friends, and they will take
out the piano books after dinner. This
never happens with Americans. I guess
it happened in college, somebody with
a guitar, but it isnt the same thing as
having somebody drunkenly fumbling
through the chords to, I dont know,
Ziggy Stardust, and theyre all singing
Ziggy Stardust. Its very strange. My
wife hates it. She hates singing and
singing along and audience participation.
SM: So do I. Not liking a musical
genre has never deterred me.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
DH: I never understood the
appeal of Dicks Bar.
SM: The jukebox.
DH: I dont mean the appeal of Dicks
Bar as a patron, because I was always
happy to have a bourbon with you and
listen to all sorts of fascinating music
SM: The Only Ones.
DH: from the kind of music that
we like. But then I would leave and
go home, and you would write three
songs. I couldnt imagine you doing
that, but maybe its because you cant
write a novel while reading one.
SM: Sure, but you write while
listening to music.
DH: Yes, but Im curious
SM: So do I.
DH: how that works for you.
SM: Same way it works for you.
DH: But most songwriters dont write
music while listening to music, unless
theyre listening to the sound of them-
selves playing the song theyre trying
to write. I dont know anyone else who
writes love songs while listening to Tusk.
SM: I dont experience silence very often.
Theres usually something running
through my head. Whats running
through my head right now is Weird
Diseases, since you pointed it out. It
would be nice if I could update it to be
whatever the current topic is, but my
brain doesnt work that way. It might
have to do with epilepsy. Other people
get earworms; I wake up with them.
DH: So do I. But then, I have a seizure
disorder, so maybe were in the same
buzzy boat. I went through a period
where a default song in my head
would be for three years or something.
It was Dude Looks Like a Lady for
a long time and it was Hot Stuff
for a long time. For a long time.
SM: Those are not songs that you would
want to have stuck in your head.
DH: No. What sticks in your
head with The Ex and I?
SM: Well, its a sandwich: the same thing
twice, with something else in the middle.
And the something in the middle is
the same as it will be in Never Again,
which is the third of a sort of trilogy that
begins here, so its a sandwich made of
other sandwiches. Not quite a fractal, but
implying one. And the lyrics are about
the same thing twice with something
in the middle too: Nookie, with oo
in the middle. All accidental, really,
since I wrote the whole thing in the car
while driving home from Province-
town a few weeks ago. The instrument
in the beginning doesnt exist, unfor-
tunately; its something forced up an
octave in the computer, but I wish I had
one. Like the worlds most expensive
cavaquinho, those little high-pitched
Brazilian four-string guitars, sort of a
metal-string ukulele why am I telling
you this; youre an accordionist.
DH: Next is Cold-Blooded Man, which
is my favorite track on this record.
SM: I want never again to be asked
what my favorite is. I have become
allergic to the idea of favorite. But
we could say Cold-Blooded Man is
your preferred song on the record.
How did you arrive at that?
DH: Its an idea that you cant believe
you havent heard before, You need a
cold-blooded man to keep you warm.
Its the same when you hear a wonder-
fully rhymed lyric for the first time. You
think, I cant believe I didnt know this
was going to be the end of this sentence
but of course now I cant think of any
other ending but the ending that youve
given it. Not even a petunia/But Ive got
little junior. The first time I heard that
from you, I couldnt believe that I didnt
know I was devastated until the couplet
closed. The whole thing is a joke but also
heartbreaking, and isnt life like that?
SM: And its heartfelt and true at the time.
DH: So tell me.
SM: I remember quite well: I was at the
Monster in the West Village, and nothing
happened to me, but I remember writing
a song and I remember which notebook
I wrote it in, and I remember the fantasy
that was probably inspired by a partic-
ular person but I dont remember that.
DH: You sound, for the umpteenth time,
like Laurie Anderson: Im so sad, but
not as sad as the day I wrote this song.
SM: I had a boyfriend I went out with
twice, three years apart, and he left me for
one of his students. A double insult. Being
left for someone you dont understand
the appeal of is particularly grueling.
DH: Is it better to be left for someone of
whom you do understand the appeal?
SM: You can compare yourself
to someone. Oh, lets go on.
DH: Never Again. I dont think
this will cheer you up.
SM: Well, its very theatrical.
That might help.
DH: Do you consider yourself
a fan of theater?
SM: Sure. Does this mean that I like
more theater than I dislike? No.
DH: Bad theater is I think the worst art
form for me. Theres something about
someone emoting very close to me and
me being unmoved that is way worse
than a bad book, a bad song, or a bad
painting. Its really tough for me.
SM: Because you feel like theyre
going to see you not responding.
DH: Theres something really embar-
rassing about it. Its very acute.
SM: I think all theater is terrible for the
first five minutes. Which is how long
it takes me to suspend my disbelief.
More or less any movie is bearable
for five minutes, but theater is kind
of the opposite. Its all unbearable for
five minutes and then I get into it.
[conversation about Quotes redacted]
DH: Here we are In the Snow White
Cottages. This is one of the few songs
in which I know exactly where you are.
SM: Along Griffith Park Boulevard in LA,
where the Snow White animators were
living while Snow White was being made.
On the border of Los Feliz and Silverlake.
It was kind of like living in Hawaii.
DH: When I was there I could not
believe I was living in real life.
SM: It was an interesting place to live.
It looked fantastic but it was falling
apart in the important ways. My
landlady Silvia liked to tell me about
Elliott Smith having lived there and
rumors shed heard about the Disney
people. There was a high school almost
across the street, which I think is why
I one day came home and found a
dirty footprint on the sink heading
inward, and a condom wrapper on
the floor. Some high school students
snuck into my house and had fun.
DH: The citation of Elliott Smith
in this song is unusual for you.
SM: Yes. I was never particularly an
Elliott Smith fan, but I felt for him.
We played with him at Fez and he
was a complete mess as I recall.
DH: I met him that night and I remember
thinking, How can we help you? It felt like
finding a crying orphan on your doorstep.
SM: *
DH: *
SM: *
DH: Surfin. This was another song I
heard in its infancy and I assumed it
was about a much younger time in your
life than when you were in LA. It has
a kind of Brian Wilson longing, that
despite mocking and degrading surfing
throughout has a sort of I-wish-I-were-
doing-that-right-now to it that I associate
with being younger rather than older.
SM: Well, practiced and studied ambiv-
alence, made famous by the Magnetic
Fields. My engineer, Charles, was living
across the way, and he was enjoying the
Los Angeles activities such as surfing.
DH: As with John Foxx, for people
who dont know, surfing is standing
on a large, plastic board being
tossed around by waves.
SM: Is that what theyre calling it now?
DH: Surfin features me on celeste,
an instrument that I think is worth
a sentence or two about. The celeste
is a large instrument which makes
a tiny sound, and that seems very
Magnetic Fields to me. I dont know
when you first heard the celeste, but
SM: [sings]
DH: Whats that?
SM: Dance of the Sugar Plum
Fairies. The first time I went to The
Nutcracker as a six-year-old.
DH: My first time was in the San Francisco
Boys Chorus singing Carmina Burana.
I watched the pianist move to a thing
Id never seen and then make a sound
that I couldnt believe. And then, as
an adolescent, Thelonius Monk and
Pannonica on Brilliant Corners.
SM: I dont have this record, but I
will go out and order it tomorrow.
DH: I will play it for you shortly.
SM: I will order it as soon as were done.
DH: Till You Come Back to Me.
Can I pour you another drink?
SM: My boyfriend at the time was also
bicoastal, so our breaking up was a
bicoastal phenomenon, but in this
case, I was in New York and he felt
that I better come home soon, and I
grabbed my Chihuahua, Irving, and
took a plane back to LA. We actually
continued going out after that.
DH: What do you think of your time in LA?
SM: I agree with you that I should
have moved to San Francisco instead
of LA, but I had a boyfriend in LA.
DH: But part of the plan of moving
to LA was some cinematic work that
largely, I would say, did not pan out.
SM: Not only largely.
DH: he says, sipping from
his margarita glass.
SM: Notably a certain Muppet
musical, for which I did not win
the Oscar and will die resenting.
DH: I think thats my cue to move right
along, if Im not mistaken, to 20,000
Leagues Under the Sea, which is a song
lifted from your soundtrack to 20,000
Leagues Under the Sea. Youve scored,
how many silent films have you scored?
SM: Two, to my knowledge. Both of them
at the Castro Theatre in San Francisco,
lucky me. I spent months of my life doing
nothing but making a 1916 silent version
of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea into a
nearly sung-through musical. A part-
talkie, if you will. We did actually have
dialog, non-sung dialog. I think we did.
DH: A couple of times. Rehearsals for the
initial performances of 20,000 Leagues
Under the Sea were extremely stress-
ful, and performances were ecstatic.
SM: If you are doing the live score in
real time in front of the Castro Theatre,
where everyone in the room watches
silent movies all the time and theyve
seen a million scores to silent movies,
ones nerves can be wracked. I didnt
have an ecstatic experience at all. I was
lost in my notebook trying to obey four
different sets of instructions at the same
time, doubtlessly looking stupid.
DH: This brings us to Stupid Tears,
which I look forward to being released
on cassingle with Bitter Tears.
SM: Oh yes? Are those my
only two tears songs?
DH: All of your songs are tears
songs in one way or another.
SM: Sure. I have to write more tears
songs. I dont think there are any
moon songs on this record.
DH: You kind of abandoned the moon
and I kind of feel responsible, I must
admit, because I told you at one point
how many moon songs you had. And
it was many. But I dont think youve
had a moon song since. And thats
not what I meant. Stupid Tears
seemed to me an opportunity to ask
you about self-consciousness, because
I think we are both of an emotional
ilk such that when we are crying
SM: the quote marks hanging
above our heads at all times turn
black. They dont stop giggling.
They just giggle maliciously.
DH: Throughout your career there are
some who find self-consciousness in your
work to be a distraction and a hindrance.
SM: People who have no sense of humor.
I remember when I discovered Soft
Cell, but I didnt realize how funny
they were until I was 17. I realized that
I liked lyrics that mean more than one
thing. The ultimate in sincerity would
maybe be Swing Low, Sweet Chariot
or something, which is not remotely
sincere, of course. Its about the duality,
or at least getting away with a subtext.
Its a spiritual but also its not saying
nice things about the power structure.
DH: You Can Never Go Back to New
York reminds me of another misinter-
pretation. I have read countless articles
that say, Stephin Merritt the quintessen-
tial NY songwriter, and I always think,
There was Boston, there was Syracuse,
there was Hawaii, there was LA, and
those are just the parts I know about.
SM: In two days I will in fact be back
in New York. I have been renting out
my studio apartment to an unsuspect-
ing NYU student, for three years, and
now I have to take it back. But I have to
give her her security deposit back. Ive
never done that before. I feel like such
a landlord. And every time I go to New
York, something else has disappeared.
When I wrote the song it was amusing
and now its so alarming I feel like its a
terminal illness that Ive been getting,
that everything is vanishing. Its awful.
Rebel Rebel, Other Music, Washington
Square neighborhood existence. The
whole reason my apartment is conve-
nient East Village, West Village, the
things it is central to are disappearing.
DH: Whats the one thing you miss most?
SM: Dicks Bar. I hung out with Irving
there; thats where my social life was
largely conducted. I had parties there.
I didnt have to do anything. Ive had
nightclub nights. But when I do that Im
working in some way. I also miss Dan-
ceteria, but more recently I miss Dicks
Bar. Im really missing the record stores.
Its getting ridiculous. Can I name one?
Sounds is allegedly open but I havent
seen it open in several years. The city
is so big but contains less and less.
DH: Is it Big Enough for Both of Us?
SM: Is that really next? We cant segue
like that; well sound like morons.
DH: This is another song my mother will
think you wrote about me. It is not a
song about me, I will be the first to admit
without any disappointment whatsoever.
SM: What are other songs your
mother might think are about you?
DH: Come Back from San Francisco,
which you wrote before you met me,
so that was awfully prescient of you.
SM: I dont want to sound like Im
criticizing your mother but I
DH: Please.
SM: I often get from my mother more
or less a disbelief that gay men can have
friends, or male friends. And I guess its
true that some of my friends are former
boyfriends, but most of my friends are
not former boyfriends, and my mother
seems to have a long tradition of not
being able to remember whos who
to be fair, why should she but I feel
that she doesnt really believe me.
DH: But I was just curious about mis-
interpretations that have happened
of your work, and even your talking
about yourself, whatever aspects
youre comfortable talking about.
SM: On the level of ambiguity that I
operate, I should not be complaining
that people misinterpret my work.
DH: I agree, on some level you should
not be complaining, but you could also
complain. Does it irk you when you
are taken to mean something that you
did not mean? I assume being mis-
taken for a toxic person is hurtful.
SM: Most of my life, at least since puberty,
because I have a low voice, and do not
smile much, I have seemed grumpy and
cantankerous to people who havent even
interacted with me yet. Since I was 12.
People have always felt this way about
me, as far as I know, that I seem hostile
or gloomy. I was relieved to discover
Edward Gorey at a young age. It did
more for my sense of being reflected in
the world than the discovery of David
Bowie and gender fluidity ever did.
Im psychoanalyzing myself, but what
the hell, its my autobiography, why
shouldnt I psychoanalyze myself?
DH: What about misinterpretations that
arent toxic or insulting but are just off?
SM: Early on, at a show, a girl came
up to me and said she was the biggest
Magnetic Fields fan ever and she was
throwing herself at me and I thought,
I have not made myself clear.
DH: I Wish I Had Pictures. Here
we are at shameless nostalgia, but
of course we would be, toward
the end of an autobiography.
SM: Oh yes, I hoped that would turn
into a Kodak advertisement.
DH: Oh, I thought a Nan Goldin exhibit.
SM: Same thing.
DH: Its hard for me in thinking about
this record to not think about 69 Love
Songs, and I Wish I Had Pictures
doesnt dissuade me. Your experience
of 69 Love Songs is cause for nostalgia
now. Would you not like somehow to
view some unedited film of debuting
that record at the Knitting Factory?
SM: I have unedited film of us
doing it at the Lyric Hammersmith
in London, and no, it has never
occurred to me to watch it for fun.
DH: But by the Lyric in my
head it was already large.
SM: Large enough for us to be at the
Lyric rather than the Knitting Factory,
yeah. So, you mean am I nostalgic for
those old bohemian East Village days?
When the Village Voice meant something
altogether different from what it means
now. I certainly miss Irving. I was on
the cover of the Voice in an astronaut
costume with my incredibly cute and
wonderful dog Irving, whom I miss all
the time. I currently have two Chihua-
huas, and dont tell them, but theyre DH: Try it.
not Irving. Im definitely nostalgic about
SM: I dont understand how the
some things. Would I want to live in
Magnetic Fields would be like a fruit.
my East Village apartment again? No.
DH: Youre going to have to
DH: Do you have any nostalgia for your
answer it anyway.
public status in the wake of that record?
SM: All right, if the Magnetic Fields
SM: No one has shouted Hey, 69 at
were a fruit, theyd be: I will go
me in quite a while, not even in the
with tamarind, because you dont
East Village. It doesnt bother me.
know what youre getting.
DH: And now were at Somebodys
Fetish. I think this might be DH: A continent.
your most hopeful song. SM: *
SM: Its a happy ending. DH: A continent.
DH: Yes, it managed to be a happy SM: If the Magnetic Fields
ending in a fairy tale sense and a were a continent, which
massage parlor sense at the same time.
DH: You have to do this quicker.
SM: As with a fairy tale, everybody
gets laid in the end. SM: Which continent would
they be? Europe c. 19814.
DH: Are you in a happily-ever-after phase?
DH: A tree.
SM: Im in a happy phase that I hope
continues for a long time. I dont know. I SM: A silver tinsel Christmas tree,
hope so. I was always being asked after 69 without any of the religious associations.
Love Songs if I believed in eternal love. Id DH: A cookie.
say: Its only eternal love until you die.
SM: The little silver balls on top of
DH: I found my notes for our 69 Love Christmas cookies, which are banned in
Songs conversation, in which at the
California and other places, which are
end I asked you questions that for
terrible for your teeth, and its never clear
some reason I thought were typical to anyone what theyre actually called.
interview questions, and so Im
inviting you to take a sip of sidecar DH: A novel.
and answer them again. Theyre all of
SM: The last time I said The Man
the template, If the Magnetic Fields
Without Qualities, didnt I?
were a _______, what would they be?
DH: I dont remember.
SM: Oh that!
SM: This time I say The Space Merchants,
DH: Of course theyre going to
and Im forgetting the authors name
be the same ones. A fruit.
DH: Well find it.
SM: I think my brain doesnt
work this way anymore. SM: Its not Fritz Leiber.
DH: OK.
SM: Frederick Pohl and
Cyril M. Kornbluth.
DH: A movie.
SM: Dreams That Money Can Buy.
DH: A competitive sport.
SM: *
DH: A competitive sport.
SM: I dont know what that is.
DH: A poet.
SM: Stevie Smith. Did I say that last time?
DH: Probably. A mode of transportation.
SM: Or maybe Richard Brautigan. I
discovered that Richard Brautigan
has been rediscovered by the British.
I expect an album called Pulp Sings
Richard Brautigan at any moment.
DH: A mode of transportation.
SM: Driverless car.
DH: You definitely didnt say
that last time. A soup.
SM: A soup?
DH: A soup.
SM: *
DH: A soup.
SM: No.
DH: A member of the cabinet.
SM: Henry Kissinger.
DH: A hat.
SM: Jugheads crownhat.
DH: A punctuation mark.
SM: The em-dash, that no one can use.
DH: A state in the Union.
SM: I guess I should choose
New York or Hawaii.
DH: A sexual perversion.
SM: Im sure I said polymor-
phous perversity last time.
DH: A personal hygiene product.
SM: What constitutes a personal
hygiene product?
DH: Just answer the question,
Mr. Kissinger. A hobby.
SM: Super 8 filmmaking.
DH: A name of a waiter.
SM: A name of a waiter. Like,
you mean, Garon?
DH: OK. A skill demonstrated by
a Miss America contestant.
SM: I have no idea what Miss America
contestants demonstrate. Ive never
seen a Miss America contestant.
DH: A barnyard animal.
SM: Chinchilla
DH: A crime.
SM: Plagiarism. I must have
said that before.
DH: A ride on an amusement park.
SM: The Tunnel of Love.
DH: A language.
SM: I must have said Esperanto
before. Church Latin.
DH: A type of government.
SM: Nothing.
DH: A critical theorist.
SM: Mary Daly. Does she count?
DH: A finger food
SM: Oh, baby carrots. The last time I
said The Man Without Qualities.
DH: A painting.
SM: Shot Marilyn.
DH: A stationery supply.
SM: This is the first time when I
feel like it would be best to have
an illustration, but I just got these
wonderful little kitten-shaped Post-
its that Im dying to share with the
world. Theyre Japanese, of course.
DH: A hairstyle.
SM: None.
DH: A celebrity.
SM: Am I a celebrity? Patton Oswalt.
DH: A pop group.
SM: The Pop Group. Thats an in-joke.
DH: What questions do you
wish I had asked?
SM: Do I wish or did I wish?
DH: Either.
SM: *
DH: Surely Ive missed something.
SM: I dont know. I dont think theres a
question I wish that you had asked that
I would then have been able to answer.
DH: Thats very complicated.
SM: Well, thats life. Isnt it?
Produced by Stephin Merritt

Additional production by Thomas Bartlett and Charles Newman

Recorded by:

Stephin Merritt and Gabrielle Valenti at New Wave Life (Hudson)

Thomas Bartlett at the Dwelling (Manhattan)

Charles Newman at Mother West (Brooklyn)

Jay Pellicci, Gabriel Sheppard, JJ Wiesler, and Charles Newman at Decibelle (San Francisco)

Benny Grotto and Steph Durwin at Mad Oak (Allston)

Mastered by Jeff Lipton at Peerless Mastering (Boston)

Assistant Mastering Engineer: Maria Rice

Executive Producer: Robert Hurwitz

All songs 2017 Stephin Merritt

Published by Gay and Loud (ASCAP)

Cover art: Alix Merritt

Liner notes: Daniel Handler

Design: Evan Gaffney

Photography: Arnulfo Maldonado, Catalina Kulczar, Stephin Merritt

Management: Claudia Gonson

Thanks to: Robert Hurwitz and all at Nonesuch, Jos Zayas, David Farr,

David Andersen, John Yuelkenbeck, Ken Anderson, and Nick Schwartz-Hall.

www.houseof tomorrow.com
www.nonesuch.com
Nonesuch Records Inc., a Warner Music Group Company,
1633 Broadway, New York, NY 10019. & 2017 Nonesuch
Records Inc. for the United States and WEA International Inc.
for the world outside the United States. Warning: Unauthorized
reproduction of this recording is prohibited by Federal law and
subject to criminal prosecution.