Their recently released third full-length, and they're debut on Barry Hogan and Deborah Kee Higgins' ATP Recordings has, the duo denote, starkly divided opinion even if every review follows a precise thread. Its unabating solemnity and employment of effectively one solitary pace over its duration (an element of the final product they feel "just happened naturally") lead to one of just two conclusions: subtle genius or unnerving awkwardness best dressed in whites and packed off to the nearest institution. Despite citing certain quotes and qualms, they avow not to have read every last review published, although Dave attests to the worst sorts of reviews being "when writers kinda just describe the music according to it sounding akin to other bands. That feels kinda shitty." Continuing in this instructional tone, Mies reckons: "The ones where the writer accurately describes the thing but just doesn't like it, well there's no accounting for taste now, is there? I can't construct a coherent argument as to why I prefer chocolate to vanilla ice cream so in that way, well, if people don't like it it's just down to personal taste." It's then down to the valuable conclusion that "constructive criticism is important and the whole discourse can be helpful but sometimes I'm left wondering as to the motivation of the writer. Like send me your fucking record, you know?" Aaron too chimes in: "There have been certain reviews – which will remain nameless – which carried remarks that were, I felt, legitimate and then that kinda just hurts your feelings! But when writers keep referencing the same bands you begin to wonder whether they're purely reading what everyone else already said. Then it snowballs into something that's no longer connected to any form of reality. Yeah, in a way I can see how my guitar playing sounds like Thurston Moore's guitar playing but not any more than I can see how his guitar playing sounds like Joni Mitchell's. And if you ask Thurston, which I have, Joni's a huge influence on him yet I've never seen any review that's ever mentioned Joni Mitchell being an influence on Thurston's guitar playing and yet people talk consistently of Thurston's style being assimilated to ours."
A sense of tranquility restored, amidst the calm after mild outcry Mies continues: "Sonic Youth are heroes of our generation but I think that what we do is so much more indebted to country music and singer songwriter-type stuff so that particular reference I just find strange. I guess we're just two singers with average voices so we have that in common with him but it's not as though we're sitting around listening to records from the '90s on repeat ad infinitum, you know? We're still listening to Robert Johnson just like the Stones were and Mudhoney were but nowadays people always seem to be looking to read into some sort of nonexistent '90s revival…"
Whilst Thurston and his lo-fi cohorts may have inspired a plethora of bedraggled pilgrims embalmed in Goo and unkempt of hair to trudge toward Minehead, although Mies and Mullan may not resemble a single member of Sonic Youth the pair appear to be, both in aesthetic and essence, kindred spirits. And although Aaron is initially absent as he tunes up Jeff Mangum's armoury of acoustics ahead of the second of two sold out shows in the nearby church where he's tonight masquerading as the sound man, the mood remains unchanged once he finally, only mildly belatedly arrives. Referring to Mangum's recalcitrant strings, he sighs and bemoans: "Been stretchin' 'em, then they were goin' outta tune one by one… I kinda figured Jeff'd get pretty bummed if that were to happen all through the show tonight…" Although this may be a somewhat pertinent past participle when referring to the melancholic acoustica peddled by the Brooklyn-based pairing, it's an impression they're keen to overturn if at all possible: "Our shows can get be pretty relentless with the unremittingly sad songs and stuff so we like to talk a fair bit onstage: you don't want people in the audience to start worrying about you so we try and give a little reassurance here and there." Lyrically meanwhile, Out Of It And Into It is, quite unapologetically, a billow of intense doom and gloom and to this Aaron makes a rather less foreseeable parallel than that aforementioned Thurston-shaped thing: "Can you imagine They Might Be Giants writing a serious song? It just doesn't come naturally to us to write a funny song or a happy song; it somehow doesn't fit on the plate with the rest of the meal."
If the meal may then be digested as something dark and heavy in one respect, instrumentally it's rather light as the pair's guitars wrap around each other like Arctic partners clasping intimately for body warmth external to their own. Moreover, these days not only do they share a playing style so similar it's all but implausible to attempt to differentiate ("Aaron and I have known each other since we were kids so we pretty much taught each other how to play guitar", Dave heartwarmingly professes) but they've also begun to plug their respective Fenders into one solitary amp. It's an endearing metaphor for the way in which the pair pour their hearts into one shared pool of quietly glorious despair, and it's something Dave in particular is relishing: "The thing I really like is that the volume can't change. If we're plugged into the same thing and there's only one volume knob one guy can't be any louder than the other. 'Cos Aaron and I used to fight a little when we had two; he always liked things a little louder than I do. Not because he wants to be louder than me necessarily. Or at least not that I know of…"
If the meal may then be digested as something dark and heavy in one respect, instrumentally it's rather light as the pair's guitars wrap around each other like Arctic partners clasping intimately for body warmth external to their own. Moreover, these days not only do they share a playing style so similar it's all but implausible to attempt to differentiate ("Aaron and I have known each other since we were kids so we pretty much taught each other how to play guitar", Dave heartwarmingly professes) but they've also begun to plug their respective Fenders into one solitary amp. It's an endearing metaphor for the way in which the pair pour their hearts into one shared pool of quietly glorious despair, and it's something Dave in particular is relishing: "The thing I really like is that the volume can't change. If we're plugged into the same thing and there's only one volume knob one guy can't be any louder than the other. 'Cos Aaron and I used to fight a little when we had two; he always liked things a little louder than I do. Not because he wants to be louder than me necessarily. Or at least not that I know of…"
However it's not merely this rather idiosyncratic method of cutting down on amp overheads and making more space in the overhead storage bins that renders Tall Firs quite such a singular proposition, for vocally too their wearied croons are highly comparable: "Yeah, even my parents can't tell the difference between our two voices", Dave candidly volunteers. "People often assume we're brothers. Or partners… But no we're straight, sadly. That'd probably make for a pretty good story." They are, as Dave succinctly reviews, about the same height and weight, while their lightly wispy hairdos could conceivably have been perfected by scissors in the tender hands of the same mother. However differences between the two are hidden away within deep creases, and their respective approaches to songwriting differ substantially with Dave tending to bring a more fully-fleshed skeleton to the chopping board than the rough sketches proffered by his trusty compadre. Nonetheless they converge to affirm that much of the guitar work contained within Out Of It And Into It was "kinda improvisational. We weren't really gigging much so couldn't really test 'em out. We were basically just recording as we were actually writing them so when we came out on tour there were songs we'd only ever played once that we effectively had to learn."
And whilst periods of hibernation undertaken with a view to completing the latest long-player in the discography may not be altogether conducive to excessive touring – nor even to the odd sporadic show – they themselves accept that they may not be perhaps the easiest of bands to book. That they associate themselves most veraciously with hardcore duo Red Dawn II and No Wave pairing Talk Normal may not aid in the pencilling in of extensive jaunts from state to state (indeed they confess: "We've always had a better time in Europe and the UK than we've experienced back in the States") yet that's not the sole motive for such touring difficulty. "Well, it's a lot to take!" contends Dave, the fringes of his features upturning wryly. "I can personally listen to stuff that may potentially seem like a real bummer for hours on end. It's funny in that a lot of the reviews we've been getting from people who hate us are basically generally saying: "Jesus Christ! What's wrong with these guys?" Which is kinda funny because it's like the blues in that you don't listen to the blues so that you'll feel bad but because it'll make you feel better to know that there's somebody else out there who feels worse than you do! And also as people we're not sitting at home crying endlessly either."
And whilst periods of hibernation undertaken with a view to completing the latest long-player in the discography may not be altogether conducive to excessive touring – nor even to the odd sporadic show – they themselves accept that they may not be perhaps the easiest of bands to book. That they associate themselves most veraciously with hardcore duo Red Dawn II and No Wave pairing Talk Normal may not aid in the pencilling in of extensive jaunts from state to state (indeed they confess: "We've always had a better time in Europe and the UK than we've experienced back in the States") yet that's not the sole motive for such touring difficulty. "Well, it's a lot to take!" contends Dave, the fringes of his features upturning wryly. "I can personally listen to stuff that may potentially seem like a real bummer for hours on end. It's funny in that a lot of the reviews we've been getting from people who hate us are basically generally saying: "Jesus Christ! What's wrong with these guys?" Which is kinda funny because it's like the blues in that you don't listen to the blues so that you'll feel bad but because it'll make you feel better to know that there's somebody else out there who feels worse than you do! And also as people we're not sitting at home crying endlessly either."
Home, at least contemporarily, is Brooklyn, a well-documented hub for the outwardly independent, eccentric and ethnic bods of the Big Apple. Yet musically, such relocation has had minimal effect on the emotional outpour that seeps out from the Tall Firs' every ridge of wax: "I think being in New York breeds confidence more than anything", Aaron almost reluctantly affirms whilst racking them brains for any possible impact. "People are very self-confident over there and so they're powerfully driven to do whatever it is that they want to do. Having a strong vision isn't frowned upon as it may be elsewhere." The concentrated product of such "strong vision" is of course the quite introverted, if incontrovertibly startling material scratched into the fibres of Out Of It And Into It. However having recorded and released a series of covers in the run-up to Mangum's recent ATP event (including, intriguingly, a take on Moore's Fri/End) the duo demonstrated their genial characteristics in song format. Nevertheless their approach was delightfully unorthodox: "I really don't like covers that are just straight covers. Why bother?" Dave laments. "I mean it's fun and stuff but for me I want it to sound in some way new. If it were up to me I'd change all the chords but Aaron gets bummed out and feels as though I've broken the spirit of the song. But like Cat Power's version of The Velvet Underground's I Found A Reason: she just took one line and repeated it like five times, totally changed the key, and that's a fucking great cover! It was the best line anyway. We covered Thurston as a kind of jab at all the comparisons we'd been getting, but also because we'd just been on tour with him and when you're on tour with someone you're together literally all the time: you watch the soundcheck, then you watch the show, or you can hear the show from backstage and I just found myself really liking the song from repeat exposure I guess. It was about the catchiest of his tunes."
Whilst catchy tunes – or perhaps a distinct lack of – may be a germane point of contact between Moore and the Mies/ Mullan pairing, despite the organic nature to all things recorded thus far they too are wired into computers. For although the eponymous debut was committed religiously to tape and the segueing Too Old To Die Young was laid down in Sonic Youth's studio while signed to Moore's Ecstatic Peace! label, and in spite of Aaron's ability to "align a tape machine and do edits on 2" tape", due to time constraints and the fact that the pair record around jobs that occupy the fullest of times they've embraced the technological advances that've really taken hold of our communal existence over the past decade. "If you've only got a few hours after work and you've got to realign the tape machine back to a particular take and all that sorta stuff, you're not afforded anywhere near as much time to actually be creative as you're busying yourself with all this technical stuff. Also, with a computer if you make mistakes you don't have to go cutting through piles of tape to eradicate any errors there may be, whereas you can just move that bad note out of the way and often recording digitally you create a stronger vibe anyway. Lots of people use the computer to over-perfect which I think is the problem whereas we maybe employ it to do the very opposite. To under-perfect..?"
And what of the final product? Well, Out Of It And Into It was last week released via ATP Recordings with whom Tennis recently released their first record formulated on dry land and, without "wanting to say a single negative word about Ecstatic Peace!", presently Barry and Deborah's proposition proved one to be entirely logical in every aspect. "People keep saying they've seen us and the record around more than previously so that's gotta be good!" Dave chirps and having created Crooked Smiles as a sonic incarnation of the optimism embodied by arriving at Butlins for the first time in a weekend always littered with resplendence, endless containers of ethanol in hand, it'd seem that they too are, in turn, in good hands. And so, ultimately, all would appear to be well: "We're viewing this as kinda like a vacation and this way we can have a vacation that's in the black!" Aaron acknowledges. As such, "touring only gets tedious if nobody turns up as you wind up questioning the reasons why you're even there in the first place. There was one time when we played to two people in L.A. and we were there thinking: "Why, the fuck, are we in L.A.?" Like this is so lame. That was rock-bottom. Aaron got food poisoning the night before, and then we got to this place in Chinatown and they were like: "The club's just upstairs." There were literally two fucking people. All the other bands cancelled, we got put on too soon, and then to compound the night as we were walking out the other three people who were wanting to see us walked in. And at the same time there's the financial end of it in that our money would've been safer in a pile, on fire, than it would've been spent on us being there. That said a performance is a performance and you should be in it no matter what: anybody who's been generous enough to pay to see us, or even if they didn't pay to see us and they're there to see whoever it is we're opening for and they've been generous enough to sit through it then they deserve for us to show up. Obviously show up, but I mean show up emotionally. They've made a decision as to how to employ their time and we've always got to respect that."
Thankfully, deservedly, respect is primarily what the Tall Firs would seem to have garnered by and large this time around and as Mies sheds a smidgen of the emotion to have gone into Out Of It And Into It, things come full circle: "For me, this is my favourite of our records and we're now doing what I got into this thing to do which is songwriting and playing with Aaron 'til it hurts, and I believe this record to be a true reflection of that. I've been reminded of precisely why we started doing this in the first place."
Out Of It And Into It is out now on ATP Recordings.
Photography courtesy of Tim Ferguson.
Out Of It And Into It is out now on ATP Recordings.
Photography courtesy of Tim Ferguson.
