Eitzel glories in the gloom
Mark Eitzel planned on making a solo acoustic album. Then Bernard Butler, former guitar player for the British band Suede, got involved. “He said, ‘Why don’t we do a record with music on it?’ ” recalls Eitzel, 57, the former lead singer for the San Francisco gloom rockers American Music Club. His forthcoming album, “Hey Mr. Ferryman,” which pairs his typically arch lyrics with Butler’s signature sonic touches, is drawing comparisons to his former band’s classics like 1988’s “California” and 1991’s “Everclear.” Eitzel spoke to us from his home in Los Angeles.
Q: You seem settled in Southern California now. What do you like about it? A: People are sullen, very dour. I found this place very mean. I love it. Q: How are you holding up as the world goes to hell? A: I’m doing what every coward does — I’m retweeting things. None of it is good. Q: You have lived through worse, haven’t you? A: No. This is the worst. I’ve never seen the like. Q: How did you process it all as you were trying to make an album? A: The reaction for me was to try to make more of a pop record, something that was a little more fun. I know a lot of political people. They’re always more on top of things than me. Q: You have always been so open with your songwriting. Were you trying to make something more measured this time around? A: I’m not the one to judge that. The feeling is more like, let me create some good karma for my own future. I wrote so much I’m scared will come back to haunt me in the retirement home. I’m trying to be measured. But I have no idea what I’m doing. Q: Whatever it is, it’s working. A: It’s the bronzer I use. And the mild hallucinogens. Q: You found your producer Bernard Butler in an odd way. How did you end up working together? A: His daughter and my manager’s daughter go to the same day care. They were waiting outside and introduced themselves. I liked Suede quite a bit, but I never heard Bernard as a producer. He’s so great. I try to explain the songs. He goes, “Whatever. Your chords are so stupidly abstract. Why do you waste your time?” Q: It’s about time somebody said it. A: I think so. This is the first guy I didn’t have to think about anything. The only creative decision I made was to shut the f— up. Q: Last time you put out a solo album, you had suffered a heart attack, run out of money and said music ruined your life. Are you in a better space now? A: Yay, me! I mean, Trump’s going to bring it all back. Without Obamacare, I would have lost everything I own. I would be doing a Kickstarter program, which I don’t want to do at this point. Things are really good. I can’t complain. Q: What is your definition of success? A: I want to become a prick rock star. Completely cut off from the world. Waited on hand and foot. I want to be able to insult people in public. I want to pin them like butterflies to the wall. I want to walk the earth like Godzilla — or Shirley MacLaine. Q: It seemed like the times you had that within your reach, you were the first to sabotage it. A: I did. What an idiot. I don’t sleep at night for things I did 20 years ago.