Bobby Markos
Behind Q And Not U’s “No Kill Beep Beep”

What makes a classic album? Is it the amount of units sold during its original cycle and beyond? Or rather is its lasting value? Its ability to stand the test of time and still find importance in listener’s lives years after its inception. Q And Not U’s “No Kill Beep Beep” may be from October of 2000, but it is still helping paint the picture of indie rock in the world of today.
One of the first conversations about music that I had with my now best friend was about Q And Not U, and years later we’re in a band together continuing on the tradition that the Washington D.C. quartet practiced ten years before us. I’d like to think that several other musicians out there could thank those four men for helping them get on the right track. To pay tribute to this album I have decided to get the inside story of how it came to be.

At what point in your careers did you guys begin writing “No Kill Beep Beep”?
John Davis: I had been playing music for a few years but not very seriously. I was just finishing college when we started Q And Not U in the summer of 1998. My high school band, Corm, had broken up a year or so before. Corm had done a little bit of touring and had released an album and a few singles. So, I had some experience but I really wanted to just get out and tour a lot. When we started Q And Not U, we weren’t extremely serious about it. After a few months of writing, though, it was clear that we were doing good things and we should step it up a bit. I remember us sitting around a table at the Tastee Diner in Silver Spring and everyone agreeing that we’d get out and start playing shows as often as we could and that we’d become a “real” band. Basically, the writing for “No Kill” ran from when we started in the summer of ’98, right up until we went into the studio in late spring 2000.
Matt Borlik: The band initially got together in the summer of 1998 or something like that, and started hitting its stride in 1999. We bought our first touring van in late December of 1999, and the album was recorded at Inner Ear in the summer of 2000—so the first half of 2000 was probably when we were concentrating the most on getting those songs that would appear on No Kill No Beep Beep ready for tour and the studio.
Chris Richards: “Little Sparkee” was the first song we ever wrote and I remember not wanting it on the album, and hoped we could just save it for a B-side. But I remember Ian MacKaye encouraging us to put it in the tracklist. I think that gave us this subconscious impulse to put every song we wrote onto an album. We never recorded much non-album material.

What was life in Q And Not U like then?
JD: It was really fun. We were starting to get a little bit of attention around town and see that some people were excited about what we were doing. That was new for all of us. Plus, it was a new group of friends and all kinds of new things were happening. It was at this time that I met the woman who I’m now married to, for instance. In the band, we were branching out and listening to different kinds of music and trying new things when we were writing the songs and jamming. Everyone was really involved and contributing. The group was bursting with creativity, especially Chris, and it led us to some good places. We did start to run out of steam on the songwriting front after that first burst of songwriting. So, those last couple songs we completed in early 2000 were a struggle. Chris, Harris and I were already start to splinter from Matt at that point, musically and personally, and I think we were losing momentum in that lineup before we even went into the studio.
MB: After graduating from college in mid-December 1999, I immediately moved in with Mike Kanin (later of Black Eyes) at the old Jawbox house across Blair High School in downtown Silver Spring, MD. (I had spent the previous summer living in the basement of that house as well.) I had also just started working as a receptionist at Washington City Paper (where a bunch of other D.C. music types worked). College was a miserable time for me—so, to go from that to living and working in the D.C. area with D.C. types was an amazing experience. There was a practice space already set up in the basement, and Harris moved in, and John lived in an apartment only a couple of miles away—all of which was extremely convenient. So practice was a very regular affair. Harris and I could work on bass/guitar parts whenever we felt like it, John and I could play pick-up street hockey on the Blair High School tennis courts on weekends, local and out-of-town music types were constantly in and out of the house, and we’d have the occasional show there as well.
Harris Klahr: Practice 3 times a week, softball on Mondays, band lunch at Jerry's Subs and pizza in Silver Spring on Saturdays. Lots of hanging out and listening to music.
CR: We were all young men learning how to become adults and I was the youngest of the four. We were babies. We recorded the album during the summer between my junior and senior year of college. When it came out that fall, I remember being really proud of having an album out before I had even graduated.

Going into the writing process, did you have any idea of what you wanted “No Kill Beep Beep” to be?
JD: We just wanted to write music that excited us and made people move. We wanted to do something different and have music that was different and exciting and energetic and thoughtful. We were all pretty burned out on the various indie tropes that had been beaten to death by the late 90s, so it was time for something new.
HK: I'm sure we all had an idea but being as inexperienced as we all were going into the studio it could only be what it was going to be. Ultimately the creative experience is bridging the gap between the artists’ expectations and their skill.
CR: At the start of our band, we were very enamored with the community that we grew up in. We had spent our teenage years listening to Fugazi, Slant 6, Nation of Ulysses, Make-Up, Jawbox, Monorchid, and so many other D.C. bands. I remember very much wanting to become a part of that lineage.

How did the writing process for the album begin?
JD: Generally, someone would bring in a part and we’d jam on it. We’d decide if we liked it and, if so, we’d refine it and work more parts into it. I don’t remember the process very clearly but my recollection is that it went pretty quickly and it felt like we were all full of ideas.
HK: It began with the first practices as a band and then was tightened up through the process of playing two odd years of shows, then further tightened through some hair raising pow wows at our homes and on a farm in eastern Maryland.
CR: It wasn’t like we set out to write an album. We were just writing songs so we could have a band that could play shows. I think that’s what makes debut albums so different from anything that follows. It’s the one album where you’re figuring out what kind of band you want to be. But I also feel like we tried to hold onto that mindset through all of our subsequent recordings too, which I think became a frustration to listeners who wanted us to keep exploring the same sound and feel that they heard on “No Kill No Beep
Beep.” We were always figuring it out. I think in the end, I think that made us a much better band on stage than on record.

Where did you write the album?
JD: A lot of it was written at Matt’s family home, out near Annapolis, MD. That’s where he and Chris both grew up. It was a place to practice, so we’d head up there from D.C. and work. I remember driving up there with Harris and we barely knew each other at all. I thought it might be awkward but it wound up being nice. It was the first time we really got to talk and we got to know each other. I already knew Chris pretty well at that point and had gotten to know Matt a little bit when we first started but Harris was the X-factor. It was a good group of people, so I’m not surprised that it worked for a while.
HK: The bulk of the album was written collectively in two basements. Starting in Matt's Mom's house outside of Annapolis, MD and finishing in the Silver Spring group house I lived in with Matt and Mike from Black Eyes(among others), that had previously been a punk group house/half way house for mental patients. Most of the incidental music on the album (intros, etc), were composed in the studio at Inner Ear.

What inspired you guys to write the brand of “post-hardcore” that you became known for?
JD: When I think of “post-hardcore,” I think of bands like Quicksand and Shift, which is music that I would want us to be considered miles away from. I think we were a punk band and we made modern punk music, for the time. Especially as the band progressed with subsequent albums, “post-hardcore” is never something I would have thought would be applied to us. When we were writing that first record, the big influences (to me) were XTC, Bee Gees, Fugazi, Trenchmouth and all of the classic funk and R&B that we were getting deeply into at that point. There was still enough residual traditional indie stuff in our bloodstream at that time, though, that the record wound up coming in the fairly conservative, traditional rock way that it did.
MB: We were “post-hardcore?” I always thought we were “post-punk.”
HK: Washington, DC and its surrounding environs, suburban ennui, post millennial release, the boy band era, encounters with post-modernism, cheap electric guitars, stuff we loved, stuff we hated.

Now moving on the to actual content of the album, I’d like to go through song by song and have you write about the writing process, thought process and meaning behind it.

“Line In The Sand”
JD: One of the first songs we wrote. Kind of piecemeal in its construction but it was one of the songs people liked most that we did. We played it live until the end, unlike most everything else from this record. The four-on-the-floor drum part that kicks around the 2/3 mark was straight-up influenced by all of the disco music I was starting to get into at that time. It was all mainstream stuff like Bee Gees, Barry White, KC and the Sunshine Band, etc. None of the cool, underground disco was being discussed at that point and there was nowhere to hear it yet, either. So, I was just getting familiar with the popular stuff. It was anathema, at that point, but it spoke to me and I liked it, so I started to work those kinds of beats into our songs a little bit.
CR: I remember when we came up with the breakdown in Matt’s basement and
feeling like we had arrived at something – like we had accidentally tripped into something really great. And I think we played it over and over.

“End The Washington Monument (Blinks) Goodnight”
JD: I like this song. It’s definitely my favorite on the record. I have a great memory of my future wife (who wasn’t even my girlfriend yet) dancing while we played this song and I remember thinking “wow, I got through to her!” The drumbeat is very cool but it was Chris’ idea. He proposed that I play it, so he gets credit for that. I think it was the closest that we came in this period to a song that was original, though the last minute of the song has some SERIOUS Jawbox damage. I like some of the little drum touches at the end of the song. Kind of a tricky snare fill and then that weird thing where Matt and I sync up the bass guitar and the kick drum for a fill right before the song ends. Pretty sure that was all Matt’s idea. I like that we were interested in little details like that.
MB: Chris and I originally worked out his guitar part and my bass part in his tiny dorm room at George Washington University. It was just the two of us, and I was (in typical fashion) trying to come up with some excessively busy bass part that would a) fill in what I perceived to be the gaps in musical space, and b) prove I actually knew how to play bass (or something like that). Of course, those gaps weren’t really there—between all of the other parts, it’s actually a pretty busy song—which Chris recognized. While I was fucking around trying to come up with something all over the place, I hit three descending notes at random, and Chris said, “That. That’s it.” And he was right. It’s one of the simplest bass parts on the album. Looking back, it’s probably also one of the best ones. And, during live shows, hitting those three descending notes when the guitars and bass came back in after the break was incredibly satisfying.
HK: Written whilst the monument was encased in the most beautifully illuminated scaffolding.
CR: I had the little finger-tappy guitar line written and Matt came up with the bass line. My bed in that dorm room was next to a window with a view of the Washington Monument, which has those little red safety lights at the top, hence the title.

“Fever Sleeves”
JD: Don’t remember much about the writing of this. I do remember Chris wanting to add an intro on classical guitar and the rest of us just being like “huh?” You can hear fragments of that acoustic part in the beginning and middle of the song. From my end, I was pretty much emulating the drumming of Fred Armisen. Trenchmouth was a massive influence on us then.
HK: Chaos reigns supreme! Written in Silver Spring, I remember being heavily into the live version of The Byrds "8 Miles high", and wanting to make my guitar sound like a pinball machine multi ball.
CR: I can’t remember much about writing this one, but I remember in the studio hearing for the first time how complex Harris’ guitar lines were. I think when we were blasting away in the practice space and onstage I could only hear the whole. When we got into the studio I could hear everyone’s isolated tracks and quickly realized how lucky I was to be in a band with such killer players.

“Hooray for Humans”
JD: This song definitely shows how important Matt was to this phase of the band. He did a good job on this one. That kind of rumbly, frantic bass line in the verse and then a really fluid, melodic bass line in the chorus. We had a falling out with Matt shortly after recording this album and, after a year of touring behind the album, we told him we were going to continue the band without him. His work on this album really stands out, though, and I know a lot of people missed his contributions after we went on without him. It had to end where it did, though, unfortunately.
HK: An Annapolis Jam. Many chants were tried. Can't remember how we settled on that one.
CR: Little factoids: “Left lane must turn left at signal” was one of the last traffic signs you’d see on the way to our practice space. The “D-O-W-N” cheer was one that the cheerleaders shouted at the high school Matt and I attended in Annapolis (Broadneck Senior High). I remember wanting to put it in the song because so many riot grrrl bands had cheerleader cheers in their songs. I wanted to nod to that influence.

“Kiss Distinctly American”
JD: Pretty embarrassing in its “Fugazi-ness.” I think we just wanted to write a slow jam but didn’t know how to do it without it sounding like a “Red Medicine” outtake. One of our low moments, I think. I do like how I stop playing bass drum during the “this is fantastic for you” part before everything gets loud. Some of my fills on this are absurd, though.
HK: Written at the Silver Spring house. I remember that one overdub was recorded with every knob on my guitar amp turned all the way up.
CR: I never really discussed my lyrics to back in the day because I wanted people to just run wild with what they thought the songs might mean. They were purposefully fragmented, but many were all based on some kind of personal experience. The lyrics to this song were written after coming home from college one summer and not recognizing the place where you grew up. (My parents had painted their house white.)

“We Heart Our Hive”
JD: More Fugazi jive here but, what can I say, they were a huge influence on us at that time. We definitely added some new touches, though, which is why I think people were able to get past some of those surface similarities. I remember playing this live around the time that the album came out and we stretched out that ending to some ludicrous degree. I think that, on the record, we do those hits at the end something like twenty times but, at my foolish suggestion, we played it, I think, one hundred times at this particular shows. Although I think it was sort of fun for us to try, I can only imagine how bored the audience must have been.
HK: Give us toggle switches on guitars and we will use them!

“Little Sparkee”
JD: One of our first songs and one I don’t think any of us liked much but, oddly, we played it well into our final years as a band, even after Matt was gone. Not sure why. This one has the “whoo!”s that we sort of got saddled with for a bit around the time the record came out. People would say, “they’re that band that says ‘whoo!’ a lot.”
MB: When we were wrapping up the initial recording, there was some debate as to whether or not we should even spend time recording it; we were all pretty much in agreement that it was an OK song and all, but it was the weakest one in the batch. We figured, “Fuck it. We’re here, everything is set up, let’s just try a couple takes and see if we can get it. If it doesn’t work, no problem. If it sounds OK, maybe we’ll do vocals, then maybe we’ll mix it. If all that goes well, maybe we’ll save it for a compilation or something.” In the end, we decided to put it on the album. The funny thing is, from a mixing perspective, it’s actually one of the most evenly mixed, best-sounding songs on the album. That might have been because we also waited until the last minute to mix it, after we had gone through a lot of trial-and-error with other tracks.

“The More I Get the More I Want”
JD: This was one of the ones that we finished toward the end of the writing period. An odd song, it’s definitely a bunch of random parts stitched together. Nice vocal performance from Harris, though. I proposed this title, which was culled from a James Brown song called “Sexy, Sexy, Sexy.” Dig Chris’ out of tune guitar during the break around the 3-minute mark. Pretty sure he was playing my old SG that I had sold him, which had some pitch issues, for sure.
MB: In my opinion, this song always stuck out like a sore thumb. I think that’s one of the reasons why I eventually enjoyed playing it so much (even if, earlier on, it kind of felt like a chore). The turning point for me was hearing how all of the different parts worked together—for the very first time—while Harris was recording vocals in the studio. I remember exactly how it happened: I was standing in the hallway with Chris watching Harris wrap up a vocal take, and I turned to Chris and quietly said, “You know? This is a good song.” It turns out I wasn’t quiet enough. If you listen carefully at the end of the track, you can actually hear me say it.
HK: A Silver Spring house jam. Went through many versions before settling on this arrangement. Definitely a sign of things to come.

“Y Plus White Girl”
JD: This was another “gimmick” song in that Matt (and, later, some members of the crowd at our shows) would jingle their keys during the intro of the song. I don’t remember where that idea came from but it may have had something to do with a ritual that would occur at Frederick Keys games (a local minor league baseball team) where the PA announcer would exhort the crowd to jangle their keys. I think that either Chris or Matt brought that idea to this song. I recall Matt borrowing a set of keys from Marc Nelson of The Most Secret Method to jangle during this tune at one show. He threw them when he was done with them (as the song required a quick segue from jangling to bass playing) but the keys fell under the stage at Black Cat. There was some consternation but eventually the keys were recovered. I do think it was around that time that we may have suggested that the key bit get retired. Matt sings those bridge parts, which reflect his Rye Coalition fandom, or maybe it was Sleepytime Trio? I like how Matt ends the song on a major note, instead of being in step with the progression, which I believe was a mistake that we fought to keep in there. I think Matt felt it was bad craftsmanship to keep a bum note in there but I think the rest of us thought it was a happy accident and we went with it.
HK: We were into the dichotomy of the shimmering guitars in the intro and the bending mess on the verse.

“Nine Things Everybody Knows”
JD: More embarrassing Fugazi emulation here. This was one of the last songs we wrote for the record, I think, and I recall it being difficult. We were just patching stuff together. Even when we were doing the record, I remember thinking this was too egregious of a Fugazi ripoff to include. Things went from bad to worse when we were working on recording the track and Joe Lally paid a visit to the studio. Pretty sure I hid in the corner out of shame. All of the drum fuckery at the beginning was basically us saying “we don’t know how to start this song, so we’re going to add some bullshit to distract you.” Chris says something in the song about “make me,” which I think might have been the song’s title at some earlier point or maybe a possible album title. I also recall listening to Harris record his vocals for this and we were all “damn!” cause he really let it rip.
MB: What a weird song. I still can’t figure out if it’s a decent deep cut, or a song best left forgotten. I think it has one of Harris’ best vocal lines, both in terms of lyrics and delivery. I’m still pretty happy with the bass line during that part, too. The bass line at the end, though, is pretty typical of the kind of overkill I mentioned above. And playing it live was next to impossible for me: The bass parts were so busy that I couldn’t get halfway through the song without my forearms kind of locking up, making it incredibly difficult to hold a string down on the fretboard or fingerpick.
HK: An nice up tempo number for the live show. That's Don Zientara's voice repeating "9….9…."
CR: I think this was the last song we wrote for the album. We rarely played it live because I was a klutz who couldn’t play the guitar line and sing at the same time.

“Sleeping the Terror Code”
JD: This was the last song that we wrote before we recorded the album. Matt was originally going to sing it but he was never able to get comfortable when we were recording and he decided he didn’t want to sing it anymore. Chris stepped in and wrote the lyrics and melodies overnight and laid it down the next day, which was impressive. It would have been interesting to have Matt take lead on a song but it didn’t work out. This slow jam is a little more interesting than the other one on the record but it’s still pretty corny. Although the Fugazi influence remains heavy on it, I think we were also trying to bring in the John McEntire production thing here, which we were super into at that time. So, that would be Tortoise and the Thrill Jockey thing, as well as the Stereolab record that John McEntire had produced around that time. We were interested in trying some different stuff but we just didn’t have the skills yet. This song includes probably my least feature in a Q And Not U song, due to its high cheese factor, but when we recorded the tune, there was a torrential downpour outside and the noise on the roof was extremely audible. For some reason, we thought it would be cool to incorporate it, so that’s what you hear in the background at the end of the song. I think we got caught up in having a verité moment on there but, now, it sounds like a clumsy attempt at establishing “moodiness,” like some of “Riders On The Storm” shit.
MB: The first time we played this song live (at the Kansas House in Arlington, VA—RIP), I actually sang it. (Not that you could tell. The vocals were so hushed you couldn’t hear them at all. I think John might have a video of it.) I’m not sure how the decision was made, but somehow we figured this song would be our Joe Lally song—we’d let the bass player sing for once. (And not scream or shout or yelp, mind you, but actually attempt to sing.) So, before we went into the studio to record it, I spent who knows how many hours prepping for it: Trying different vocal melodies, writing lyrics, re-writing lyrics, listening to practice tapes and singing along, etc. It was the first time I had tried anything like that. It was a huge deal for me, and I was putting all kinds of internal pressure on myself to nail it. So, on the day we’re recording the vocals, I go in with my lyrics and whatever, and I totally fucking choked. I had done plenty of scream/shout vocals in the past, but that was the precise moment I found out that I can’t sing for shit, and I can’t hit a note to save my life. I can’t even being to explain what a monumentally crushing feeling that was. I don’t remember how apparent, if at all, it was at the time—but I was fucking devastated. In a panic, we tried to figure out what to do, because I obviously wasn’t going to be able to sing the song. Chris came up with some new lyrics on the fly and sang the song instead. I think he might have even ended up keeping a couple of the vocal melodies I had originally written.
HK: The last song written for the record. The only one we hadn't really played live. That's all four of us singing the last few lines of the song. While Chris was recording his vocal one of the most violent rainstorms I've ever seen rolled through the area.
CR: The working title for this song was “Stereolab” because we were listening to “Dots and Loops” a lot when we wrote it.

Now onto the production of the album:

What gear did you use and what were you going for tonally?
JD: I used the same drum set that I still use now, which is a set of late 80s Ludwig Rockers that I’m still borrowing from my best friend and former Corm band mate. I didn’t think, at all, about tone or sound or gear or whatever. Stuff like that has never really been on my mind and it especially wasn’t back then. I think I’ve just been fortunate to be around people that do worry about that stuff, so I was covered.
MB: Fender American Standard Precision Bass, GK 800RB head, and an extremely beat-up Ampeg 8x10 cabinet. (I’ve since downgraded to an Ampeg 6x10, if you can really call that a downgrade.) I didn’t want to the bass guitar to be some booming, bumping presence on the album; I wanted it to be round, full, and low—so that it didn’t tread all over the guitars, and occupied its own sonic territory.
HK: I used a tweed 50w peavey classic amp a Rickenbacker 330 and a Fender telecaster plus.
CR: I was playing a Gibson SG straight out of a tweed Fender Bluesman amp. I don’t think we were going for anything, so to speak. It was just the gear we had.

Was there any significance behind the sequencing of the album?
HK: A lot of thought went into the sequencing. The main thrust being that even on the CD it should be divided up into to two sides, hence program A and program B
What was the mixing process like?
JD: It was quick. I don’t remember being much involved. We were all so new to all of this that I think we mainly sat back and let Ian MacKaye and Don Zientara run the show. They’re both incredible musical minds and great people, so it was a real pleasure to work with them – as we did for another album and a couple of singles. They’re both very technically skilled and also a lot of fun to be around. So, I think we just trusted them to get good sounds and they did what they did.
HK: All four of us sitting behind Ian and Don and trying to understand what they were doing and what the studio was capable of doing.
CR: I remember it being contentious. Like I said earlier, there are a lot of things you hear for the first time once you get into a studio that you might not have heard on stage or in practice. “You’re playing THAT?” “You’re singing THOSE words?” I think the singing was what we fought over the most. We always played out of lousy PA systems and now that we could hear each other singing, some people had problems with each other’s approach. I give major props to Ian and Don for calming us down and getting us through all of that.

Did you know what you wanted the album to sound like ahead of time?
JD: Not me. I just wanted to like it and, I suppose, I wanted to have something that sounded like our live show, which was sort of the de rigueur recording philosophy at the time.
HK: Much of the material had been worked on in a live setting for a couple of years so I think the main concern was to try and capture some of the energy that we were capable of generating live. I think we did that.
CR: I don’t think so. We just knew we loved the production that Ian had done for all of the other D.C. bands he had recorded, so we were incredibly excited to be recording with one of our heroes.

Looking back on it, are you happy with the outcome of “No Kill Beep Beep”?
JD: It’s fine and the outcome, I suppose, was great. It started the journey we took together, which took us to some amazing places. For the record itself, I rarely listen to it. When I do, I usually cringe at my sloppy drumming and erratic tempos. I really like the energy of the record and the singular focus of it, but it’s a type of music I don’t like at all anymore. I feel almost no connection to the music now but I do remember the time fondly and I’m glad that the record exists.
MB: I’m pretty happy with it. I think some parts of it have aged well; other parts of it haven’t aged so well. Some parts make me cringe every time I hear them—but all of those are my own contributions. Every once in a blue moon someone will mention the album, or I’ll hear a song from it in a bar somewhere, and it’s kind of cool to know that people actually remember it, and that it hasn’t been completely lost to time. But I imagine the album’s personal significance to me is pretty different than it is for Chris, Harris, or John, because it represents the entirety of my time with the band. (Then again, I’m also of the opinion that Different Damage is the band’s best album. Oof. ) Being in that band, in that scene, in that city, at that time, was easily one of the most formative experiences in my early 20s—and a good portion of that continues to have a lasting influence more than a decade later.
HK: More than happy. As with any artistic endeavor it's a blessing to have anyone even notice.
CR: I’m really glad people like this album. I think they’re drawn to the poise and exuberance of it. But I also think it’s the least interesting Q and Not U album. It’s hard for me to listen to any of the music I’ve ever been a part of writing, but I kind of blush whenever I hear this one. Do you ever go back and read term papers you wrote in college or poems you wrote in high school? It’s kind of like that. Only it’s available on iTunes. What I am thankful for, however, is that it gave me the opportunity to play music and tour for the next five years of my life. Being in this band was easily one of, if not THE most exciting, most rewarding experiences of my life. And I am deeply, deeply grateful that people liked this album enough to launch our little journey.

Is there anything you’d change about?
JD: To me, the record lacks dynamics. It feels like full speed ahead at all times without many thoughtful shifts. I especially dislike the lack of tonal variety on the record. Everything is just the same sound over and over. Raging guitars, mathy rhythms, blah blah. I wish we added some different instruments or textures or sounds. The few times that we did (the keys, the rain on the roof, etc.) it strikes me now as pretty hokey. We just didn’t have the vocabulary yet. The obsession with time changes seems kind of juvenile, too, though that was definitely a product of the time. Overall, it’s a pretty derivative record and I don’t like it much as a piece of music. I suppose it was a step along the way to get to the music we made later that I like much more. Again, I appreciate it more as a memento. I listen to it and think, “was that ever me?”
MB: Hah. I’d change everything! Not actually. But, in my 9-to-5 life, I’m an editor. That’s what I do for a living. It’s in my nature to constantly tweak things, to look for different ways in which different parts can be used together, to take a nearly finished song and break it back down into all of its components and see if there’s some kind of potential combination that was missed. It’s not about achieving an impossible perfection, but doing the absolute best with what you have at your disposal. I’ve always loved that aspect of songwriting. But it is incredibly slow—and, obviously, counter-productive in many respects. If I had my way back then, we’d probably still be working on the album now. Which would be pretty goddamned ridiculous. At the time, however, I didn’t really get that. So I guess if I could change anything about the way the album came together, it would be my own stubborn approach to writing and recording it.
CR: No. I do think it’s a pretty accurate picture of where we were in our lives.

Can we expect anything in the future to commemorate this great album?
JD: I doubt it. I’m not really sure what we could do to commemorate it. There’s very little unreleased material from that era of the band and the record is still in print on LP and CD, so I wouldn’t expect anything else around it. I’m glad it’s still available though, and certainly appreciate that people would still enjoy it. One thing that we may do is to create a digital archive online of all of the various concert footage we have of the band. There’s some from that era, so that may happen at some point. I know I’d like to see that happen and I would work on it whenever I had a chance.