JAPANDROIDS EXPLORE NEW TERRITORY
Duo’s latest album incorporates more flourishes, but retains their cathartic emotional intensity
David Prowse is well aware of the flip side to releasing an album that is both critically and popularly acclaimed.
“People can really hold a record dear to their hearts,” reflects the drummer/vocalist for Vancouver’s Japandroids. “Look at Arcade Fire; there are fans that say nothing they’ve done has been as good as (2004’s) Funeral, but in actuality they’re still making really good music. I get it, though, because Funeral has an intensely personal place in my heart, probably due to the time it came out and what was going on in my life.”
Prowse and fellow Japandroid Brian King (guitar, vocals) have their own overachieving album/ albatross to overcome in the form of 2012’s Celebration Rock. Crashing into the Billboard Top 50, appearing on what seemed like every critic’s Top Ten list for the year, the out-of-nowhere success of their second record had the two-piece on the road for years after, with audiences and reviewers syncing up in praise for their irresistible blending of classic rock and punk.
Now, five years later, they’ve finally followed it up with their third full-length, Near to the Wild Heart of Life.
Rather than retreading old music territory in fear of losing listeners they’ve expanded on their style, eschewing their usual live-off-the-floor rawness and adding overdubs where appropriate. Some critics have grumbled, but most have responded favourably, noting the band’s resistance to what was probably a powerful impulse to play it safe. We spoke with Prowse about the new album, the importance of maintaining band relationships, and how success can warp friendships.
Q The new album features lots of extra musical flourishes, something that a third player could take on live, but it seems as though you’re not done with playing as a duo.
A We’re still stubborn about the two-piece, yes. That was definitely one of the challenges, though, trying to do things without repeating ourselves as a duo. I think any band has that same issue, no matter how many members they have. I guess we found a way around it by adding more layers. Subtle layers. Like, you know there’s some extra guitar stuff going on, but you don’t quite know what it is as a listener. We also stopped worrying about making a record that we could play note-for-note live. That was very freeing.
Q I imagine you had to give yourselves permission to do that, after making such raw records in the past.
A There had to be a discussion, for sure. It wasn’t like only one of us wanted to, though. After touring Celebration Rock for so long we were both in the same place. We didn’t want to be beholden to our previous m.o., and neither of us wanted to make Celebration Rock 2.
Q You’ve got loops and second guitar parts, plus what sounds like a synth on some songs, but they’re all eased into the mix.
A (Producer) Peter (Katis) had a great line while he was mixing the record. He said that bands always worry about the next record sounding too different, when in reality they should worry about not making it different enough. The truth is that while we were aiming to get outside of our wheelhouse, at the end of day Bryan and I would have to work really hard to make ourselves sound radically different. There would have to be an effort to not sound like Japandroids, because that’s the sound we have when we play together.
Q You toured really, really hard on Celebration Rock. After a while what starts as a fun project among friends becomes an actual job, and that friend is now a business partner. How did the intensive travelling affect things between the two of you?
A Not just the travelling; there’s also the bad food, lack of sleep, the ego and insecurity of making art ... throw in the pressure of snowballing success and things got very frayed between us. There were times when I wanted to kill Brian, and vice versa. The break that we took after touring Celebration Rock helped; we got back together to come up with ideas for the new record, just hung out and jammed, and became friends again. We didn’t have a timeline, we could work in isolation and even go see other bands together.
Q Ron Hawkins of (Toronto band) Lowest of the Low once said that if someone had just told them that they could take a break from each other then the original lineup might still be around.
A There’s a weird thing where you feel trapped by success. That sounds ungrateful, I know, but you play for years, the dream comes true, and there’s this thing where you feel that if you take your foot off the gas everything will fall apart. So you resent it.
Q There’s also the fact that you play very intense, emotionally draining music.
A There’s a certain catharsis to what we do. Keep in mind that I never got sick of playing, ever. It was the one thing I always looked forward to. The other side of it is how physically tiring the set can be. I don’t think an acoustic duo can say the same; no disrespect to acoustic duos, because it takes serious skills, but I don’t think you’d see Simon and Garfunkel dripping with sweat at the end of a performance.