In this interview spotlight, I chat with Grandpa Egg about their album Underneath the Willow Tree, motivations, challenges and more.
Full Q&A along with links and music below.
Where are you from and what style of music do you create? (In your own words, not necessarily in marketing terms or by popular genre classifications.)
We’re based in Kent, OH and play in a loose, lo-fi psychedelic-folk style. We prefer “psych-folk shambles” but we’re not really sure what that means. Our aim is something raw, verbal, catchy, experimental. We’ve leaned toward concept-albums the past couple times out, our version of which we like to call “storybook albums.” Much of the material (lyrically, otherwise) harkens back to childhood. We like Syd Barrett and Joe Jack Talcum.
What led you down this path of music and what motivates you to keep going?
Self-loathing 🙂 I imagine creative types as soaking in a pool of their own dread and diminished self-worth and the only thing that gives them relief is when they cough up a song or poem or painting. Seems like that for me at-least. I’ve always wanted to make-up songs and record them. Since I was maybe 3-4 years old. I sang “Punk Rock Girl” acapella in a 2nd-grade talent contest and can remember making up songs, singing nonsense in my mom’s old Dodge van as she drove us around as kids. My older brother Bart played guitar so I felt growing-up like he was the real musician in the family and I’d be better off hacking-out some other artistic territory (film, drawing, comedy). So it took us a while to get together proper on band-terms, initially as Betty Rats (our first band while living in Nashville), and then Grandpa Egg, which started as a duo but later expanded to a 4-piece band, albeit one that primarily records. I’ve had a rather unpleasant case of tinnitus since 2012 and haven’t pushed performing live since then. We still play occasionally but it always feels like a risk. I’d much prefer carrying on with records as opposed to the performing / touring required to get one’s self “out there.” Besides, I feel like a show is fleeting. It’s great in the moment but then it’s gone. A record you can think-of as forever (or something more permanent). Additional motivation includes a rather extensive back-log of fledgling melodies and odd ideas that I would love to see through to some state of maturity / fruition. I’d like for us to make a Xmas album, a horror-themed album, an old radio-show mystery album, one about Pink Water (abstract idea about delving into the subconscious) and another 2-3 records about my cat Mokey who recently passed away.
How is this new release different than previous ones? Were you trying to accomplish anything specific?
This release is a double-album–23 songs, 80+minutes. It’s the second in a series of planned “storybook albums,” the first being Praying Mantis (2014). We didn’t intend for it to be so long but 23 songs is just what it took to tell the story (which we’ll summarize briefly in the next paragraph). I’ll say at the outset, I had been feeling a bit down going into this writing process. The inspiration for Praying Mantis (previous album) came largely from a childhood friendship I had with a Korean girl that lived next-door to me when I was 3-9 years old. We spent many a summer afternoon searching for praying mantids in the field behind my house. I was shy kid and she got picked-on a lot for looking differently and talking differently and so we got along as sort-of fellow outcasts. However, as time passed I began to drift away from her and toward other friends in the neighborhood. I began to pick-on her as well. Once after school, I chased her around trying to hit her with my backpack until she eventually tripped and skinned her knee on a tree stump. I recall she looked up at me and simply said my name “Jeb” with tears in her eyes…as if to say why are you doing this? It was an awful thing to do. Unforgivable. I never apologized and as I began looking forward to the next album all the feelings of guilt began to flood my thinking. On top of that, my bandmate Inga and I had recently moved away from Nashville (where we met) and just before leaving a work-friend of mine took his own life. We had worked together for years but not known each other well until the final 2-3 months before the move, when he transitioned from a management position to the projection booth where I worked (movie theatre). Booth employees often worked alone but I requested to have several weeks to work alongside Jeremy to train him (as many resent employees had not been trained properly in my estimation). For this reason we spent a great deal of time together over a period of weeks. I witnessed first-hand what a bright, engaging and lively person he was so it came as a total shock when we got the news. These are the two overarching influences for Underneath The Willow Tree: my work-friend’s suicide and the betrayal of my Korean friend from childhood.
Album summary: The record starts with a character named Joe who hangs himself in the first song. A new family moves into the house (on Drayka Street) where Joe used to live. A mother, father and very shy, socially inept boy named Nicholas. One night Nicholas discovers a box of letters behind a panel in his bedroom wall, letters left behind by the aforementioned Joe. The letters tell the story of Joe’s struggles, which ultimately lead to his tragic end. Nicholas’ parents encourage him to make friends but he spends most of his time alone under the big willow tree in his back yard. There he reads through the letters. Despite his social awkwardness, he manages to befriend an equally awkward neighbor-girl named Holly. Together they form a bond over the letters, Joe’s story, and their mutual loneliness. Their friendship is tested by outside pressures but any luck, Joe’s letters will shed light on the important connection they’ve formed (hopefully in-time to save them from a similar fate).
Name one or two challenges you face as an indie musician in this oversaturated, digital music age? How has technology helped you (since we know it does help)?
The main challenge is cutting through the noise. There’s so much out there and it’s great that indie-artists have the means to record and make-available their own music but there’s also a neutralizing effect. I have no idea how to break through it. We’ve almost given up strategizing (which feels wrong anyway), although I admire bands busting-their-ass & racking-their-brains to make contact with the outside world. For us, I feel resigned to making the records we make. I enjoy taking our time and exploring whatever tangents. Groping around in the ether till we’ve found something we like and pursuing it to the ends or nth-degree. Technology is good. Our band would not be possible without the current state of things. The fact that we can make a record at home in our bedroom, release it ourselves and post / promote it online is beautiful. If I had to record on studio-time, I’d crack up. Just open my mouth and nothing. So for us it’s crucial in most regards. It facilitates delusions I suppose. We’re might be living a lie; one where we’re a band and release records with no record company or talent scout to tell us otherwise. We’re enjoying ourselves though and hopefully we’re not hurting anyone in doing so. Not sure how good or bad it is.
Where is the best place to connect with you and find more music?
Bandcamp. We like bandcamp and post everything there in the preferred context (album, ep, single). Visually it’s nice. User friendly. For networking, just facebook. We post news on our Website (but generally re-post on the facebook). I personally liked the glory days of Myspace for connecting with other artists online. It was very convenient for discovering new music and booking low-profile tours. Just more rolled into one site. Now everything’s all over the place. Takes six different sites to accomplish the same thing 🙁
Anything else you’d like to add before we sign off?
Not that springs to mind at the moment.
