Nina Nastasia
Interview
by Christa Min
Someone once told me that when they think of me, my mouth is always open, that I am always laughing, yelling, or generally being loud and annoying. I think I’m shy and quiet. No one agrees. When I got a copy of Nina Nastasia’s album, The Blackened Air, I listened to it nine times in a row. Maybe ten. The whole time when I was listening to it, I didn’t laugh once. I swear. But it’s not because I didn’t enjoy it. It was as if I was eating a chocolate cake (dark, rich, and bittersweet), my mouth was full, and I couldn’t laugh because it was so good. This is how it is: she doesn’t need so much. She has perfect pitch. She is clear. She’s always there. She’s not full of it. This is an email interview.
DiSCORDER: Warm–up question: What did you do today?
Nina Nastasia: I woke up around 12:30pm. Drank coffee for a couple of hours. Went into the bathroom to practice my guitar. Made something to eat around 3:00. Went outside for five minutes—I was going to go to the store then I decided against it. I went back home and straightened the apartment—which is novel. Then at around 4:00pm a friend, Philip, came over to play some music and have a drink before his show—he left the apartment at 7:00pm. This leaves me on the couch talking to you.
My friend Randal likes to call you Nana Mouskouri. I think it’s because he doesn’t know how to pronounce your name. It’s funny because I remember Nana Mouskouri and Simon and Garfunkel being my first favourite singers when I was young. Tell me about when you were 13. Where did you live? Where did music fit in your family? Who did you listen to?
First of all, I have a terrible memory—13, 15, 12, 11—it’s very hard for me to remember one year’s events in particular. I can tell you where I lived. I grew up in Hollywood, California, in a house, 1946 North Vine Street, right above the Hollywood Freeway and across from the Vedanta Society Monastery.
My grandfather was a composer. I never knew him or his work, but my mother inherited his piano, which I played on growing up, and my aunt sang in clubs in Salt Lake City and Las Vegas. As far as I know, those were the only two other people in the family who had a strong interest in music. I used to sing with my aunt whenever we were at my grandmother’s house because she had a grand piano we could play and a bench filled with sheet music of show tunes.
A few of the records I remember my parents had were by Judy Collins, The Beatles, Edith Piaf, Billy Holiday, a lot of classical music, Frank Sinatra. There was probably more obscure stuff, but I wasn’t a real music buff. I gravitated towards The Beatles and classical music mainly, partially having to do with my piano lessons. I don’t remember my parents listening to the radio much, so I never bothered with that until I realized how out of it I was. I had a crush on a kid at my school, Bobby Bowman. He was excellent in math and baseball, and he loved KISS. I had nothing in common with him, and I felt completely ridiculous that I hadn’t ever heard of Kiss. I started listening to KROQ, but I continued to play my parents’ records, so that’s my education.
On the Southern website the genre of your music is listed as “Americana.” What does that mean? I don’t know what that is.
My dictionary (though not British) says: “Writings, records, objects, or the like, related or pertaining to America; things American.”
Why bands like Rapeman, Slint, The Jesus Lizard, etc., don’t fit into that category, well, my guess is that “Americana” is a kind of euphemism like “alt–country.” I really don’t understand what it means. Maybe it intends to mean very little, so people don’t think they’ve heard anything like it, or maybe it preys on the assumption, “Hell, if it’s American, it must be good.” Or it means, “Music for Americans, like American mustard and American beer, tailor–made for the uniquely modern American sensibility.”
The songs on Dogs were written between 1993 and 1999. It took six years for your first album to come out. The Blackened Air was recorded less than two years later. Why did Dogs take so long, or why did The Blackened Air take so short?
I didn’t start writing songs until 1993. It took a few years after that to develop a band and start performing regularly, so what does look like six years is more like two by the time I was ready to record. If we had unlimited funds, I’m pretty sure I could turn out another three this year. Lack of money is always the thing that slows us down.
It rains a lot in Vancouver. Sometimes the air is yellow above the city, but the rain dilutes it. Here, it smells like water. Since The Blackened Air was recorded in February, 2001, the lyrics to “Run, All You…” were written long before September. It’s a strange coincidence. It’s hard to think of the title of your album without considering where you live. When did you decide on the album title? How is living in New York different for you now?
Decided on the title in June 2001.
The routine changes and becomes the new routine, so it feels normal here. I’m unemployed. Otherwise, I don’t know. There’s a given uneasiness that people here have when a bunch of fire trucks go by.
The new album seems a bit darker, more personal than the last album. In the liner notes there are two gigantic roman numerals. Is the album meant to have two distinct parts? OBVIOUSLY, this is a concept album. No, seriously, is there something thematic about the album?
The record is divided into two parts, as is necessary for the vinyl copies. Since it’s a pain to go and flip a record over, it becomes a significant moment to do so, so it’s nice to have a sequence that doesn’t feel interrupted when side one is over.
Who is Kennan Gudjonsson?
He handles the administrative duties of the band, like correspondence (because I am generally shy) and money (the burning of it), and he is the president of Socialist Records; however, he also has a strong influence over the musical arrangements with the band, occasionally playing, generally sitting back and asking other people not to play. He doesn’t like to take credit as a producer, but Kennan has a great deal to do with what you ultimately hear. He is the person who curates some of my more entertaining shows, as well. Kennan’s a funny man, by the way. Have you noticed?
The musicians on your albums are obviously very talented. Some of them have played with the following bands: The Wallflowers, Natalie Merchant, Duncan Sheik, Laurie Anderson, Paula Cole, Burning Spear, Kelly Joe Phelps, Suzanne Vega, Cyndi Lauper, and John Zorn. I noticed that you have a different drummer and viola player on the new album. Do you have a “band” or are they just “session” musicians? How did you come to play with them?
Some list. What a talent show that would be.
I would say yes, I have a band, but at the same time, everyone in the band has other projects. We have been playing together for a while now, and we are all good friends at this point, so when Gonzalo, the saw player, joined the circus it was heartbreaking for all of us. We miss him and still try to book shows with him whenever he’s available, but his schedule is tight being a clown in the Cirque du Soleil. Beyond Gonzalo, the conflicts are usually temporary, having to do with a musician needing to take a high–paying gig to cover his rent, or one of them having to go direct a play, do a comedy show, make a court date. Only occasionally has a musician gone off to do something for so long that we don’t expect to see them any time soon.
Will you be comfortable when Celine Dion asks you to open for her show in Las Vegas and when Stephen Malkmus asks you to make a duet album with him? Do you want to make a living with your music?
I think I understand the questions. I wouldn’t want to open for Celine Dion, I don’t know what Stephen Malkmus’ music is like, and I like making my money from my records and performances. I mostly just like to do my own thing.
I don’t know what it’s like in New York, but in Vancouver there’s Didgeridoo Mania! What other projects have you worked on besides your own albums?
Not really any serious work. When I first started singing, a few friends would ask me to do some la las [sic] on their records, and I said sure. I was very excited to sing, but my significance in those projects would be relative to a choir member’s. It would be fun (though probably embarrassing) to hear some of that stuff now.
I was considering going to All Tomorrow’s Parties in Camber Sands, but when I think of it I imagine myself passing out when I’d have to decide whether to see Shellac on one stage or Silkworm on the other. I’d come to when people were stepping on me running in one direction to see you play and in the other direction to see Zeni Geva, and I’d just pass out again. Have you played outside of America before? Is there anyone in the ATP line–up that you’re really excited to see?
The largest crowd I’ve serenaded abroad would be Kennan’s relatives in Iceland.
I imagine myself running around like you. Since I have seen virtually none of these bands live, I have a generally strong curiosity about them all. But The Ex is a band I really enjoy and have never seen live, so let’s say The Ex.
That’s it. I hope my hilarious jokes come through on the computer. I apologize for questions #5 and #6. I don’t like them, but I guess I had to ask.
I laughed at #s 3, 7, and 11 most. I like answering your questions. I hope I come through as genuine as you do. •