- Music
- 20 Mar 01
THE HIGH LLAMAS continue to define the indefinable. Peter Murphy catches up with busy mainman SEAN O'HAGAN.
POP SEISMOLOGISTS have long held that a major musical upheaval occurs during the latter half of every decade: rock'n'roll in the '50s; psychedelia in the '60s, punk in the '70s, hip-hop in the '80s . . . and the '90s? Well, that's where the theory starts to fragment. Sure, there were rumbles in Jungle, but that was more an extension of, rather than a reaction to, Acid and Detroit house.
Instead, this era has been characterised not by one concentrated revolution so much as numerous pockets of activity; a myriad of bubbles rather than one big bang. Consequently, the most interesting records of the last few years have been produced by sleepers, a velvety underground if you like, acts who've been percolated and perfected their sound over a considerable period of time - Tortoise, Stereolab, Mouse On Mars, Spiritualized, Air, Mercury Rev, Pavement, Cornelius, Grandaddy, The Flaming Lips and Royal Trux.
At a total loss to describe such variant musics, pundits have formulated the catch-all phrase 'post-rock', an umbrella term covering avant-experimentalism, electronica, roots mutations, loungecore, tropicalia and Euro-exotica. In other words, everything but the kitsch 'n' sink. And after ten years of quietly but diligently plying his craft, High Llamas mainman Sean O' Hagen has found himself - along with Chicago maestro Jim O' Rourke - in the default position of post-rock godfather, not to mention garnering a reputation as an accomplished arranger, forging connections with the likes of Steve Reich via Pulitzer prize-winner Tim Page, getting invited by Bruce Johnson to oversee (abortive) Beach Boys recordings, not to mention reconstructing Love classics live for Arthur Lee and acting as sonic consultant on REM's Up sessions.
"They were massive fans of Hawaii and got (Llamas' engineer) Charlie Francis to record the last REM record," O' Hagen explains. "We were up in the studio in San Francisco and they played us all the backing tracks. I have to say, they were playing them expectantly, asking us what we thought of them and how we felt about them. Peter Buck was very much saying, 'Oh, y'know, I'm on a Stereolab trip here, I'm on a Llamas trip here.' It was brilliant really, they were fans, I couldn't believe it. And there was Charlie - our guy who did Gideon Gaye and Hawaii - recording it. Fantastic."
And now, following 1998's intriguing and perfectly named Cold And Bouncy, comes The High Llamas' fifth album Snowbug, which enlists such luminaries as the Stereolab twins Laetitia and Mary, John McEntire of Tortoise and Jim O' Rourke. As you'd expect, Snowbug is an extraordinary sounding record, bottom light and airy, more AM than FM, more mint than meat, more vinyl than Minidisc. Of course, like spiritual forbears such as Van Dyke Parks or Steely Dan, one could make the point that The High Llamas operate on a cerebral rather than gut level. On balance though, the lack of sheer visceral kick is more than compensated for by craft and invention.
"I got bored with guitar, bass and drums, the rock'n'roll thing, years ago," O Hagen avers. "I'm still very interested in certain aspects of rock music, the more experimental things like Pavement or whatever, but for me, soundtracks, experimental jazz and electronic music were the real alternative to what I regarded as very conservative rock music. There's so much out there. And I do believe the mid '90s have given us an opportunity to be a bit more eclectic in our listening. Outside the mainstream of the music industry there is a fairly active underground which is global and almost like a re-invention of experimental music which has grown out of club culture."
This fringe growth has very real commercial as well as artistic ramifications. Taking into account the possibilities of MP3 and the Internet, plus a growing disillusionment with the Daytime Radio/MTV/Big Six axis amongst even the most casual consumers, the peripheries have never looked as tempting, and the major labels face possibly the first threat to their supremacy in 20, possibly 40 years. Could Radio Ga Ga go the way of the Dodo?
"There is a crisis in the record industry," O' Hagen concurs, "but it's in the big companies, it's not in Domino, Warp, Mo' Wax or Drag City or whatever. They know how to get those records to those people. It's nice to defy the cliche that if you don't come up with the commercial success then you don't have a mandate to carry on. And so really it's a case of, 'Are we happy to carry on in our own little way?' Well, the answer is 'Yes' as long as you get to make the records you wanna make. There is always a pressure, like, 'Well, Snowbug is great, but it's not gonna set the world on fire, it's not gonna get played on the radio and perhaps if we gave it to DJ Sanchez or Fatboy Slim . . .', but as soon as you do that, you've put your hands up. You've surrendered. Art is only changed by selfish people, people who do exactly what they want to do." n
* Snowbug is out now on V2.