LONDON – INTO DEEP SHIT

Twenty-one-year-old Londoner Tom Watson is in Deep Shit and says he’s been “negotiating the cynical/bitter tightrope since 1987.” His music treads a similarly careful path. Heavy and narky like wine-bashed brains, his debut release Weird You is available now, here on CD-Rs and tapes decorated by C.M. Ruiz and paid for by California’s post-rad(ist) Family Time Records. I tracked him down and said hello… 

Deep Shit: What up? 

Vice: Huyrrrp. You alright? 

Yeah, not bad. You? 

Not too bad. Want to get on with this? 

Let’s do it. 

So how long ago did you start writing stuff for or as Deep Shit? 

I started writing and recording the Deep Shit stuff one hungover Sunday afternoon in the middle of January, I think. All the music, for this tape anyway, was done in the resulting week-long guitar-playing binge, and I just messed around with recording it for a few weeks after, I guess. 

The record does sound a bit hungover. 

Yeah, being hungover is a great state to make music in. 

Why? You think your brain is blasting together previously unfamiliar neurons? 

I suppose so. You dull the senses in one side of your head and supercharge the other. A weird combination but I think it works. 

Yeah, maybe. I think as a result the record sounds a bit more grumpy than a lot of other lo-fi-ish bands around at the moment. A lot of them seem a bit smug and pleased with themselves. 

I know what you mean. You should never trust a smiling band. 

Why not? What’s behind the grin? 

I don’t know. But self-satisfaction is such an unattractive quality in a rock band. 

Name names. 

See “Pizza All Around” by Happy Burger to see what I mean. 

Aren’t you satisfied with Weird You? It doesn’t have any songs about food. 

Well noted. 

Would you ever write a song about food? 

It’d be foolish to rule it out at this stage. 

I admire your long-termism. You’re obviously not in this for a quick buck. 

I’m not sure the quick buck has much interest in a lo-fi band called Deep Shit. 

OK, sorry. So yeah… you’re from Bury St. Edmunds, right? So when did you move to London? 

A year and a bit ago. 

What have you been doing in between then and starting Deep Shit? 

Trying to put a stadium rock band called Ye Gods together, but the world doesn’t seem ready for us quite yet. And playing bass in a metal band called Bathwater with my friend Ken, that was fun. 

Did either outfit appear before the public? 

Bathwater did, but we left our sampler in the pub so we had to break up. 

Shit. What do you reckon the person who found it thought? 

Well, we left it in the Grapes in Bury St. Edmunds. I’d be very surprised if they had any idea what it was. 

Just poked it, curiously. 

Haha. 

If everyone who’d ever sat down to record music was wiped out, barring three musical gods, who would be peering down from the sky? 

Er, I think the MC5, The Fall circa-’83 and Rapid Youth. 

Which member of the MC5? 

Kramer. 

And Mark E? 

Yeah, Mark E. 

And which member of Rapid Youth? Ancient Crux, Twin Lion or Trudgers? 

Haha, that’s an impossible question. They are the sum of their parts. 

Wouldn’t the world be a pretty addled, ill-tempered place if those were the gods? 

Yeah, but think how good the records would be. 

Would that be enough, do you think? 

Hell yes. 

OK. So you’re putting out a record with Family Time. They’re based in suburban California; you’re in London. How did that come about? 

Sam, the guy who runs it, sent me a nice message pretty much out of the blue and asked if I wanted to do a tape. I was a big fan of people like Ancient Crux, Twin Lion, No Paws (No Lions), Trudgers, etc. beforehand, so it was pretty much a no-brainer. The standard of the tapes and records he puts out is so consistently high. I’m just honored to be involved, really. 

Yeah, it is a great label. 

It does feel slightly odd that I’m here and they’re there, but I think it works. Anyway the great thing about those boys is they don’t have their bands playing the same sound. I mean, listen to Trudgers–his music is anything but Californian. 

Yeah, sure. 

I think the whole MySpace thing tends to devolve bands from their local geography. Like with this stuff, I wrote two songs in an afternoon and a couple of months later have a cassette coming out on the other side of the world without playing a gig anywhere. Where’s the localized connection there? I mean, I know you write about what you see to an extent, but the idea of like Joy Division not leaving their postcode to write, record and release is definitely defunct. I think the age of the period piece, of people creating something in the right place at the right time is pretty much over. 

You think so? I agree that the connection between time and place seems to have fractured to an extent. But if what you’re saying’s true, does that make it the right time for everywhere or the right time for nowhere? Anyway, I need to eat. Thanks for doing this. 

Any time, brother. Take it easy. 

I’m going to gorge on cheese and ham sandwiches. 

The very best sandwich.

Deep Shit – “Hector” 

KEV KHARAS