SWANS ARE HAPPENING AGAIN

INTERVIEW BY ARTIE PHILIE

Michael Gira circa '80something.

Back in 1997, while I was digging into serious fare like Earth Crisis and Avail, Michael Gira was just wrapping up Swans. Their breakup, however, did nothing to slow the growth of the band's now decades-old legacy that looms over what passes for "heavy music" these days like the shadow of a distant obelisk.

Now in 2010, Gira just came out of nowhere with a bunch of loud, fucked up sounds that seem totally appropriate as a Swans album. So that's what it is. And they're going on tour, too. People like me who were utterly oblivious when the band was around the first time are now pretty psyched.

Vice: Just so you know, I'm definitely coming from a "fan" background, so I'm a little intimidated to be talking with you.
Michael Gira: Oh, don't worry about that. I clean up dog shit. I wipe my baby's ass. I'm a regular person.

Unfortunately, I missed out on Swans when you guys were around the first time, so for the upcoming tour, I'm wondering what songs will be played--will it be just the new album, or will there be a sampling from the band's different periods?
I made a list of older material to play, but we haven't started rehearsing yet. When we do, it's going to be these long, 12-hour sessions for three weeks, I imagine. I want certain songs from the album to just extend and breathe for a really long time, so I don't know how much physical time onstage we're going to have for other material.
But, that said, the songs that I sent everybody to learn how to play are: "Power for Power" from the first album Filth, "Clay Man" and "Your Property," from Cop, "I Crawled" and "Raping a Slave," from the Young God EP, "Another You" and "A Screw," from Holy Money, "Anything for You," from Greed, and from Children of God: "Sex God Sex" and "Beautiful Child."

Holy shit, that rules.
But that's too many already, that's too long for a set in itself. So I don't know how many are going to make the cut, but we'll just work on them and see what happens.

When I used to commute to work on the Q train, "Beautiful Child" at full volume felt like the only logical response to the environment because I couldn't handle everyone around me. Even though it felt right on the train, I don't think I ever got the full grasp of what was being expressed in that song.
I guess it was sort of a perverse take on the Abraham and Isaac theme. Sacrificing a child. Also, I thought it was about facing your darkest inner self and expunging it--or first embracing it, then expunging it. The words kind of took on a talismanic quality live and then I would just repeat them over and over. That was a really amazing song to play live. It turned into some kind of beast on its own.

The live show is going to be much different from the album. I think we'd really be doing ourselves a disservice if it wasn't. Hopefully more powerful. To me, an album is just the template, or blueprint for a song, and then from there the song can expand or contract. In this version of Swans, I definitely want it to expand.

When Swans disbanded, was it a "We've done everything we can do" kind of thing, or was it more…
I wanted to move onto something else. Swans transformed from pretty monodimensional and brutal in the early days into… I don't know how many different versions. As many versions as there were albums. It was always different. But at the end, the whole baggage of Swans and its 15 years of struggle, it just kind of weighed me down. I didn't have the spiritual strength to continue anymore. I wanted to start things from a simpler place. That's why I started Angels of Light. I was exhausted, basically.

Now, after 13 years of doing that and running the labels and producing other people's music, I want to rock. [laughs] Not really, but I'm ready to make some electric guitar-based big sounds again. I'm craving it, my body needs it. I feel like I'm deprived of vitamins or something. So that's what I'm doing and it makes sense to me to call that Swans.

You've said that when you started making music with Circus Mort you had "no musical ability."
I didn't have any musical skill. I definitely had musical instinct, just not technical ability. So I turned that, I think, into a strength. I made something happen with the means I had at my disposal. About the closest we ever came to being punk rock was operating from that perspective. Just make shit happen with what's in front of you.

Almost like a caveman approach to music.
Oh, I don't know about caveman! I figured I could make something musically powerful happen with a bunch of rocks and a glass of milk. It's something about how you arrange it--your intent, and the context. I'm not by any means an accomplished guitarist. I mean, I know how to play guitar for myself, but playing other people's songs, forget it. However, I do have musical experience and know how to speak the lingo, so I can make things happen. But that's just organizing sound. Did you get the remix thing, the double album?

Yeah, Let Me Go?
Yeah, did you hear it yet?

I did. I listened to it last night. I noticed about 20 minutes in that there is a really distinct sound--it almost sounds like a guy masturbating.
Well, I won't mention what that is, but that album is sort of working with music as raw material to make something else happen, not necessarily a song.

INTERVIEW BY ARTIE PHILIE Swans circa 2010

You're one of the only acts that has almost as many live albums as you do studio albums.
I hadn't thought about that, but I guess so. I think Swans as a live band was one of the best, so I wanted it to exist. If you listen to the songs live and then listen to them in the studio, they're totally different. So the live albums are a result of that. Also, one of the ways I figured out how to make a living was to keep putting out as much fucking music as possible.

That is true.
Yeah, otherwise, what am I going to do? Hang sheet rock? As you get a little older that's not an option anymore. [pause, background noise] Sorry, I'm executing my job as shipping clerk right now.

Oh, I didn't know I was calling you at work. Wait, you have a job?
I'm a shipping clerk…

That's weird.
… at Young God records. My job is Young God records.

Oh, right, OK.
I'm so behind.

That always struck me as being admirable--having ordered stuff from you and knowing that you're the guy who's putting it together. You personalize so much of what you send out too.
At a certain point I kind of verge on having a heart attack. It's a lot of work, I'll tell you that. But otherwise, I don't really have an alternative. I can't hang sheet rock, and I don't have any skills. It's unacceptable for me to be painting behind some lady's toilet with my ass sticking out. I'm forced to make a living as a musician. That's what I do. From the time I was like 15. Worked my ass off for a long time.

And most of that was in NY, right?
Yeah, well except for when I moved to Atlanta towards the end, but then I moved back to NYC after Swans ended and Jarboe and I split up.

Is Jarboe a sensitive topic?
Oh no. I love Jarboe.

Was there a reason that she didn't factor into this iteration of Swans?
I haven't been in touch with her for years. Part of how things went with Swans was, she was my spouse, and when I would get the material together for a record I'd sometimes use a song by her, but I was the one who arranged it. Or I would get her to sing on a song I wrote. She added a lot, I don't want to discount her, but it was sort of like she was there, so I used her.

Not used her in a bad way. It's what I do--I just used my daughter on a song because she's there. I used Devendra Banhart on a song because he was there. All these people I work with, they can do certain things, so I can kind of marionette them into place with the music. And that's what she was: she was my partner and she was intertwined with the music for that period. Once we split up and once Swans stopped for such a long period of time, to incorporate her back into it, that would definitely be entering nostalgia land and it doesn't make any sense to do something like that. It would be inauthentic and kind of demeaning to us both.

We went through so much together. I could never say a bad word about her. We went through so much hardship together, and it's really bittersweet thinking about it. But you know, it's the past.

So, did being a New Yorker influence the kind of music that you've made? You've got these huge, overpowering gray landscapes that you're painting with sound and then you look at New York--
You think they're gray? I think they're red.

Well, I could see red as well, but definitely monochromatic.
Are you kidding me? There's a lot of nuance in there.

Oh, I'm not saying there's no nuance. I just mean there's an overpowering singularity that's being expressed in every song.
Yeah, maybe so. When I lived in NYC in the early days, it was such an unlawful, fucked up place. You had permission to do whatever you wanted. Not necessarily lifestyle choices, but musically. It felt like "What the hell? It doesn't matter. Just do what you want and make it happen." Force it down people's throats. [laughs]
New York was a really tough place then. Everybody was so competitive. A lot of people, younger people, don't realize that in the 70s and early 80s it was really hard. But it was also very fertile, maybe for that reason.

So you don't necessarily feel that the city's ambient negativity was being filtered through the sounds you were making? I don't know if I'm expressing the question correctly.
No, I know what you're saying. I sort of bridle at the idea of Swans being negative. I think the overall intent--and certainly the effect on me, and hopefully a lot of the audience--was kind of uplifting and overwhelming in a certain way, even transforming and transcendent.

I agree, but when I think of the early to mid-period Swans stuff--and also having read The Consumer [Michael's collection of short stories]--the dominant images are of joyless, mechanical sex, or empty transactions between hollow people…
A lot of the lyrics had to do with living in a consumerist society and what it ultimately boiled down to, you know? And the media inculcation of the consciousness, but I don't know about the negativity and the brutality. You know, I'm sure all that's there, but it's not something I really occupy myself thinking about.

You seem like a cheerful guy.
Oh you know, I'm complicated but I enjoy life. It's a mystery. I'm privileged to exist.

How old are you?
I'm 56.

Really? Wow, you're older than Gibby Haynes.
I'm older than God.

I'm 36. Probably a good half of the audience that you're going to be playing to in the next couple of months are going to be about my age or younger.
More than half, for sure. When I've played with Angels of Light it's been mostly younger people. I like that, I think it's great. I think it would be truly awful if I were to go out and it was just a bunch of old geezers hoping to relive the past, you know?

There will be that element too, I'm sure.
Maybe somewhat. But you know, like I said, Angels of Light never drew huge audiences, and most of the audiences they did draw were younger people. When they'd come up to me afterward they'd also be very conversant in the work of Swans. So that's really pleasing that over so much time the audience actually seems to have grown for Swans. It's encouraging, you know? I just hope I get through it all before I die.

ARTIE PHILIE