Post by Nyarlathotep on Oct 15, 2006 9:56:33 GMT -5
Meet Maynard James Keenan, best known as the frontman of Tool. Though the music of Tool is 10,000 times as innovative and technically complex, Tool defines the life of its fan base in much the same way that Phish and the Grateful Dead have provided not just the soundtrack, but a vocabulary and wardrobe for thousands of devoteds.
Tool has not had a commercial radio hit since the early '90s, but you wouldn't know it from their record sales and the black t-shirt tailgating hordes who follow the band from show to show. The first rule of interviewing a rock god such as Maynard is not to talk about music. So we decided to talk about one of Maynard's other loves -- horror films. Buried deep within the horror film are the secrets of surprise and perfect timing, two very scarce quantities in a cultural landscape where thrills are cheap and novelty is the coin of the realm.
Oh yes, the Vulture would like to thank Justin from Sailor Jerry for a major assist on this interview, and Gyro CEO Steve Grasse for making the introduction and furnishing us with the VIP passes with which we entered Maynard's upholstered trailer of stardom. (Maynard and Steve go way back, back to Gyro's Bikini Bandits days when Maynard played none other than Satan himself.) When we spoke, Maynard was getting ready to perform at South Jersey's Tweeter Center. For a man about to take the stage he was surprisingly relaxed and ready to drop some tasty bits of wisdom. Enjoy.
The Vulture: Please describe your early experiences with the gothic, the grotesque, and/or the macabre.
Maynard James Keenan: I can remember watching horror films in my early days visiting my grandmother's house in Ohio, the Saturday morning monster movies. I would watch these movies, borrow my aunt's Black Sabbath albums and play them in the background, because I never felt the move soundtracks were good enough. Then, as the movie played, I would eat all kinds of sugary snacks and get all jacked up and run around the house.
V: What drew you to these films?
MJK: Well, there are many things that I like about horror films, but my particular flavor of horror film is one that almost has a little bit of camp to it. Some of the stuff almost makes you giggle as much as it startles you. I like lower-budget stuff, like some of the old Ed Wood movies. Then there's the psychological stuff, which is what really got me as a kid. Watching the Exorcist really put the zap on me. I grew up in a fundamentalist Southern Baptist household. To go see the Exorcist when it first came out, at that age ... I was way too little to be seeing that movie.
V: You find any new stuff that's up to that level?
MJK: The stuff that I really respond to is more cinematic. A movie like the Grudge, for example, where in order to appreciate it you have to be sitting in the front row of the theater, the row where the screen is so wide that when something pops, it pops up right in front of your face. Then you jump and you pee yourself, and that's fun.
V: You mentioned playing Black Sabbath records to improve the soundtrack of those old horror movies. Does music shape the way you experience horror?
MJK: Yeah, absolutely. Take the Dawn of the Dead remake. There's all this subtle stuff you can do now with ProTools and all the other behind-the-scenes music programs. They create tension through imperceptible sounds—beds of sound and white noise, things like that. Soundtracks nowadays really know how to hone that feeling, how to direct the way you're going to react to something. And then there's the dead quiet, the absence of sound. That's the build-up, right before they hit you with something. And then you pee your pants.
V: Has the experience of watching horror movies changed with the times?
MJK: A lot of films (and art in general for that matter) are only relevant to a particular historical period. The Exorcist will never feel the same way it did at its initial release, because the special effects don't have the same impact. Or take the Deer Hunter. It's so hard to get somebody to sit through a film like that now, to understand why there's forty-five minutes of really boring shit. Nobody understands that it's necessary to set up the next scene when they're passing the gun around, playing Russian Roulette. You need 45 minutes of mediocre high-school graduation stuff to set up the mood. My favorite movies might not translate nowadays, unless you really have patience.
V: What do you think of the newer stuff?
MJK: We're so numb these days that it's really difficult to startle people anymore. They don't really believe in ghosts as much as they used to. So the only way you can really startle them is to offend them. South Park and Family Guy, that's the stuff that's really shaking people up. Because you're like: "Ooh, I can't believe he said that." To me, that would be the new era of shock-value horror film, one with more political stuff. The guy jumping out of the closet is pretty played out. There's a ghost in the house! There are snakes on the plane! Uh, who cares? [Here Maynard made fake snoring sounds.]
V: What are some of your other favorites?
MJK: I like Ringu, the Japanese version of the Ring. Or Ju-On, the Japanese version of the Grudge. Get a big wide screen, and make sure your bladder's full of urine. I also like Klaus Kinski's Nosfaratu, the one with Bruno Ganz. Creepy, so creepy. I also like Manhunter, the Michael Mann film. No special effects or clever modern digital lighting tricks. To me, Brian Cox is a far, far scarier Dr. Lecktor than Anthony Hopkins. He's far scarier because he's a believably creepy guy who could have been a college professor. A kind of guy you look at him, you're not threatened by him at all. He's not scary, not so in your face at Hopkins. He's just this creepy dude and then when he actually does speak and turn to look, you go "This guy is really creepy." Hopkins, on the other hand, is like right up in your face. He's pressed up on the Plexiglass spouting crazy poetry. You're like "Who wouldn't know that this guy's a serial killer? Why'd it take so long to catch this creep?" I mean come on.
V: Do you think you picked up any tricks from these horror movies that informed your musical projects? Pacing-wise or timing-wise or otherwise?
MJK: Yeah ... setting up the booms and the boos and the screams and the shrieks and the ebbs and flows. The ups and the downs. The pacing is really crucial. A film like Manhunter is a beautifully composed piece of music in a way.
BUT WHAT WILL THE FUTURE SOUND LIKE?
V: How do you think technology is changing the music business?
MJK: Well, there's this whole new world of music where it's no longer about putting out albums and being this band "personality" and going on tour and having managers and lawyers and people fighting over this and that and lawsuits. In this new MySpace, iTunes world it's just "make a song." Make a song that's appropriate to whatever you're making it for. Express yourself in a focused manner. Don't worry about a bigger-picture project like a whole album or CD.
V: How does that play into the financial side of things?
MJK: Money is getting a little tighter nowadays. But when budgets are strict, that actually improves a lot of music and film and art in general. When you really have to rely on pure ideas to drive a project rather than new technology, that's when the good stuff starts to surface. The bulk of any creative industry doesn't care at all about quality. To them, it's just another project. Who cares how good it is? Just sell it enough to get the budget, to get working, so the carpenters are working, the routers are working, the directors are getting paid, the catering service is there. There is this whole infrastructure who make their living off of shit plots that are so safe they're boring. When all that money disappears and people have to work for something other than money, that's when we're going to see some decent films.
PUSCIFER: FROM BAND TO BRAND
V: What made you want to start Puscifer?
MJK: No, you say it like this: Puhss-uh-fur. Like Puss In Boots. Pussy.
V: Puscifer. Got it. So how did it start and where did you get the idea?
MJK: Originally Puscifer was kind of a joke project, something that Adam [Jones] and I were going to do a long time ago before we started Tool. The idea disappeared and then resurfaced when the Mr. Show guys wanted us to do a song for the Ronnie Dobbs sketch in the first season. So I kind of dusted off Puscifer as a catch-all side project, a label that I could throw onto like a T-shirt, that none of my bands would ever get behind. Puscifer is kind of like my alter ego. Now it's panned out to where I've done some soundtrack songs under the name, and a bunch of t-shirts that I'm selling. I'm going to launch an awesome website soon: www.puscifer.com.
V: What's the character on the Puscifer shirt and logo? Where did it come from?
MJK: Oh, it's Alien meets Chupacabra meets J-Lo…
V: Is it actually called "Puscifer"?
MJK: Yes, that's Miss Puscifer.
V: Does she have a first name?
MJK: Puscifer.
V: Puscifer Puscifer?
MJK: Madam Puscifer.
V: Ah. Okay. There are so many people out there making t-shirts and logos and dreaming that one day they'll be on a fancy tour bus like this one, and be able to support themselves through making music. You've gone the other way. What do you feel like you can do with the Puscifer brand that you can't do with music?
MJK: It's my own little catch-all bin of dumb ideas that that don't fit with the band projects. I can cut loose, make my political statements, make my sacrilegious jokes and just have fun with it. Just make fun, retarded merch. I've always been a fan of Gucci, and all the retarded stuff that they sell in their store. You know, Frisbees and nunchuckas and dog tags. It's so retarded. I have to buy it, just to support the lie. It's such a house of cards and such an emperor's new clothes kind of thing. It's all very Andy Kaufman. It's a fun lie.
V: You have some crazy copy on your business card. It says your name is Jesus Fucking Christ, and that you are omnipotent, omnipresent, and omniscient. Specialty-wise you've got exorcisms, winemaking, and water sports. Care to walk me through these items? Let's start with the
exorcisms.
MJK: Here at Puscifer we specialize in exorcisms. As you know, exorcisms are a very important element to get through the day. You gotta exorcise your demons on a daily basis through whatever medium you need. Internet porn, frottage, whatever.
V: Okay, winemaking. Go.
MJK: Yes, winemaking. I actually am a winemaker. On one of my bottles I actually describe the wine and all of its nuances. I said the wine was "almost like cherries on steroids." The feds rejected that description. They don't want anyone to think I actually put steroids in the wine. Yeah. Like I actually put steroids in the fucking wine. No sense of humor.
V: How did you get into winemaking?
MJK: It's in my blood. I didn't realize that.
V: That happens when you drink it. Or so I've heard.
MJK: True. But what I mean is that I have a great uncle and great-grandparents that have vineyards in Northern Italy. I didn't even know. So I kind of fell into it.
V: Back to the card. It says your name is Jesus Fucking Christ.
MJK: Yes, some people aren't comfortable putting Jesus Fucking Christ on a card, or on a shirt, but here at Puscifer we can. We can because, well, who gives a fuck? Buy it or don't buy it. I don't care. I'm having fun.
V: What are the other products? I heard some mention of "Napalm"-branded coffee.
MJK: Mmm hmm. We're doing Puscifer coffee, and some mug-warmers that will fit any of your various coffee establishment to-go mugs. We're still working on the name. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to use "Napalm" or not. But I like it. You know the line: "I love the smell of Napalm in the morning.
WHY A GOOD SONG IS LIKE A GOOD BOTTLE OF WINE
V: Are you running the vineyards on top of all this other stuff?
MJK: Yeah. We're taking a break in a couple weeks so I can go back and crush grapes in Arizona.
V: What's the secret to making good wine?
MJK: You gotta be hands on, boutique. You gotta pay attention to it, just like anything else. You need to concentrate, and pay attention to what's actually going on.
V: Does it, uh, have any similarities to making music?
MJK: Sure. Absolutely. The way I make music is similar, because we're very much a hands-on band. And all my bands, we walk things through, step by step. We dissect as much as we can. We feel it out, rather than doing obvious cookie cutter processes.
V: Is your vineyard looking for the wine-world equivalent of a major label deal?
MJK: At the moment the winery is looking to be a very small production. We're very hands-on, maybe just three or four blends. If I do anything on a larger scale, it winds up being an investment in somebody else's company. It won't be my brand, then, just something I'm investing in.
V: Do you feel like the wine, the music, and the Puscifer brand are three separate audiences? Or do you think there might be folks who are into all three?
MJK: There will be some crossover, but I'm not sure that the wine community is necessarily a rock community. Not the fine wine community. So I've made an effort to separate Puscifer from the
winery. The winery's going to be a far more family, community-based, nurturing kind of thing that fosters those kinds of feelings. And Puscifer's going to be everything that your mother warned you about. It'll be all that crazy, sacrilegious, push-the-envelope, question authority stuff. The dark side. It'll be my little angel and my little devil. Puscifer is the little devil on my shoulder and my angel is the wine. Coexisting.
V: It sounds like you've taken care to build firewalls between these projects. Do you ever worry that one of your wilder Puscifer products might offend someone and hurt the band's ability to get gigs at certain venues, or that controversy caused by one of your projects could cause trouble for the others?
MJK: No, I'm not too worried. 'Cause Puscifer is going to be small batches of stuff. If we get complaints, it'll be like "Oh, you don't like one? Okay, we won't sell that one anymore." And I'll just wait until you go away. Then I'll sell a different one. Once again, I'm not looking to take any of this global—I'm already making a living in other areas. I'm just looking to just have fun and to sell enough of it to support the project. So it'll just be my sense of humor. People that get it will buy it, and the ones that don't aren't invited.
Tool has not had a commercial radio hit since the early '90s, but you wouldn't know it from their record sales and the black t-shirt tailgating hordes who follow the band from show to show. The first rule of interviewing a rock god such as Maynard is not to talk about music. So we decided to talk about one of Maynard's other loves -- horror films. Buried deep within the horror film are the secrets of surprise and perfect timing, two very scarce quantities in a cultural landscape where thrills are cheap and novelty is the coin of the realm.
Oh yes, the Vulture would like to thank Justin from Sailor Jerry for a major assist on this interview, and Gyro CEO Steve Grasse for making the introduction and furnishing us with the VIP passes with which we entered Maynard's upholstered trailer of stardom. (Maynard and Steve go way back, back to Gyro's Bikini Bandits days when Maynard played none other than Satan himself.) When we spoke, Maynard was getting ready to perform at South Jersey's Tweeter Center. For a man about to take the stage he was surprisingly relaxed and ready to drop some tasty bits of wisdom. Enjoy.
The Vulture: Please describe your early experiences with the gothic, the grotesque, and/or the macabre.
Maynard James Keenan: I can remember watching horror films in my early days visiting my grandmother's house in Ohio, the Saturday morning monster movies. I would watch these movies, borrow my aunt's Black Sabbath albums and play them in the background, because I never felt the move soundtracks were good enough. Then, as the movie played, I would eat all kinds of sugary snacks and get all jacked up and run around the house.
V: What drew you to these films?
MJK: Well, there are many things that I like about horror films, but my particular flavor of horror film is one that almost has a little bit of camp to it. Some of the stuff almost makes you giggle as much as it startles you. I like lower-budget stuff, like some of the old Ed Wood movies. Then there's the psychological stuff, which is what really got me as a kid. Watching the Exorcist really put the zap on me. I grew up in a fundamentalist Southern Baptist household. To go see the Exorcist when it first came out, at that age ... I was way too little to be seeing that movie.
V: You find any new stuff that's up to that level?
MJK: The stuff that I really respond to is more cinematic. A movie like the Grudge, for example, where in order to appreciate it you have to be sitting in the front row of the theater, the row where the screen is so wide that when something pops, it pops up right in front of your face. Then you jump and you pee yourself, and that's fun.
V: You mentioned playing Black Sabbath records to improve the soundtrack of those old horror movies. Does music shape the way you experience horror?
MJK: Yeah, absolutely. Take the Dawn of the Dead remake. There's all this subtle stuff you can do now with ProTools and all the other behind-the-scenes music programs. They create tension through imperceptible sounds—beds of sound and white noise, things like that. Soundtracks nowadays really know how to hone that feeling, how to direct the way you're going to react to something. And then there's the dead quiet, the absence of sound. That's the build-up, right before they hit you with something. And then you pee your pants.
V: Has the experience of watching horror movies changed with the times?
MJK: A lot of films (and art in general for that matter) are only relevant to a particular historical period. The Exorcist will never feel the same way it did at its initial release, because the special effects don't have the same impact. Or take the Deer Hunter. It's so hard to get somebody to sit through a film like that now, to understand why there's forty-five minutes of really boring shit. Nobody understands that it's necessary to set up the next scene when they're passing the gun around, playing Russian Roulette. You need 45 minutes of mediocre high-school graduation stuff to set up the mood. My favorite movies might not translate nowadays, unless you really have patience.
V: What do you think of the newer stuff?
MJK: We're so numb these days that it's really difficult to startle people anymore. They don't really believe in ghosts as much as they used to. So the only way you can really startle them is to offend them. South Park and Family Guy, that's the stuff that's really shaking people up. Because you're like: "Ooh, I can't believe he said that." To me, that would be the new era of shock-value horror film, one with more political stuff. The guy jumping out of the closet is pretty played out. There's a ghost in the house! There are snakes on the plane! Uh, who cares? [Here Maynard made fake snoring sounds.]
V: What are some of your other favorites?
MJK: I like Ringu, the Japanese version of the Ring. Or Ju-On, the Japanese version of the Grudge. Get a big wide screen, and make sure your bladder's full of urine. I also like Klaus Kinski's Nosfaratu, the one with Bruno Ganz. Creepy, so creepy. I also like Manhunter, the Michael Mann film. No special effects or clever modern digital lighting tricks. To me, Brian Cox is a far, far scarier Dr. Lecktor than Anthony Hopkins. He's far scarier because he's a believably creepy guy who could have been a college professor. A kind of guy you look at him, you're not threatened by him at all. He's not scary, not so in your face at Hopkins. He's just this creepy dude and then when he actually does speak and turn to look, you go "This guy is really creepy." Hopkins, on the other hand, is like right up in your face. He's pressed up on the Plexiglass spouting crazy poetry. You're like "Who wouldn't know that this guy's a serial killer? Why'd it take so long to catch this creep?" I mean come on.
V: Do you think you picked up any tricks from these horror movies that informed your musical projects? Pacing-wise or timing-wise or otherwise?
MJK: Yeah ... setting up the booms and the boos and the screams and the shrieks and the ebbs and flows. The ups and the downs. The pacing is really crucial. A film like Manhunter is a beautifully composed piece of music in a way.
BUT WHAT WILL THE FUTURE SOUND LIKE?
V: How do you think technology is changing the music business?
MJK: Well, there's this whole new world of music where it's no longer about putting out albums and being this band "personality" and going on tour and having managers and lawyers and people fighting over this and that and lawsuits. In this new MySpace, iTunes world it's just "make a song." Make a song that's appropriate to whatever you're making it for. Express yourself in a focused manner. Don't worry about a bigger-picture project like a whole album or CD.
V: How does that play into the financial side of things?
MJK: Money is getting a little tighter nowadays. But when budgets are strict, that actually improves a lot of music and film and art in general. When you really have to rely on pure ideas to drive a project rather than new technology, that's when the good stuff starts to surface. The bulk of any creative industry doesn't care at all about quality. To them, it's just another project. Who cares how good it is? Just sell it enough to get the budget, to get working, so the carpenters are working, the routers are working, the directors are getting paid, the catering service is there. There is this whole infrastructure who make their living off of shit plots that are so safe they're boring. When all that money disappears and people have to work for something other than money, that's when we're going to see some decent films.
PUSCIFER: FROM BAND TO BRAND
V: What made you want to start Puscifer?
MJK: No, you say it like this: Puhss-uh-fur. Like Puss In Boots. Pussy.
V: Puscifer. Got it. So how did it start and where did you get the idea?
MJK: Originally Puscifer was kind of a joke project, something that Adam [Jones] and I were going to do a long time ago before we started Tool. The idea disappeared and then resurfaced when the Mr. Show guys wanted us to do a song for the Ronnie Dobbs sketch in the first season. So I kind of dusted off Puscifer as a catch-all side project, a label that I could throw onto like a T-shirt, that none of my bands would ever get behind. Puscifer is kind of like my alter ego. Now it's panned out to where I've done some soundtrack songs under the name, and a bunch of t-shirts that I'm selling. I'm going to launch an awesome website soon: www.puscifer.com.
V: What's the character on the Puscifer shirt and logo? Where did it come from?
MJK: Oh, it's Alien meets Chupacabra meets J-Lo…
V: Is it actually called "Puscifer"?
MJK: Yes, that's Miss Puscifer.
V: Does she have a first name?
MJK: Puscifer.
V: Puscifer Puscifer?
MJK: Madam Puscifer.
V: Ah. Okay. There are so many people out there making t-shirts and logos and dreaming that one day they'll be on a fancy tour bus like this one, and be able to support themselves through making music. You've gone the other way. What do you feel like you can do with the Puscifer brand that you can't do with music?
MJK: It's my own little catch-all bin of dumb ideas that that don't fit with the band projects. I can cut loose, make my political statements, make my sacrilegious jokes and just have fun with it. Just make fun, retarded merch. I've always been a fan of Gucci, and all the retarded stuff that they sell in their store. You know, Frisbees and nunchuckas and dog tags. It's so retarded. I have to buy it, just to support the lie. It's such a house of cards and such an emperor's new clothes kind of thing. It's all very Andy Kaufman. It's a fun lie.
V: You have some crazy copy on your business card. It says your name is Jesus Fucking Christ, and that you are omnipotent, omnipresent, and omniscient. Specialty-wise you've got exorcisms, winemaking, and water sports. Care to walk me through these items? Let's start with the
exorcisms.
MJK: Here at Puscifer we specialize in exorcisms. As you know, exorcisms are a very important element to get through the day. You gotta exorcise your demons on a daily basis through whatever medium you need. Internet porn, frottage, whatever.
V: Okay, winemaking. Go.
MJK: Yes, winemaking. I actually am a winemaker. On one of my bottles I actually describe the wine and all of its nuances. I said the wine was "almost like cherries on steroids." The feds rejected that description. They don't want anyone to think I actually put steroids in the wine. Yeah. Like I actually put steroids in the fucking wine. No sense of humor.
V: How did you get into winemaking?
MJK: It's in my blood. I didn't realize that.
V: That happens when you drink it. Or so I've heard.
MJK: True. But what I mean is that I have a great uncle and great-grandparents that have vineyards in Northern Italy. I didn't even know. So I kind of fell into it.
V: Back to the card. It says your name is Jesus Fucking Christ.
MJK: Yes, some people aren't comfortable putting Jesus Fucking Christ on a card, or on a shirt, but here at Puscifer we can. We can because, well, who gives a fuck? Buy it or don't buy it. I don't care. I'm having fun.
V: What are the other products? I heard some mention of "Napalm"-branded coffee.
MJK: Mmm hmm. We're doing Puscifer coffee, and some mug-warmers that will fit any of your various coffee establishment to-go mugs. We're still working on the name. I'm not sure if I'm allowed to use "Napalm" or not. But I like it. You know the line: "I love the smell of Napalm in the morning.
WHY A GOOD SONG IS LIKE A GOOD BOTTLE OF WINE
V: Are you running the vineyards on top of all this other stuff?
MJK: Yeah. We're taking a break in a couple weeks so I can go back and crush grapes in Arizona.
V: What's the secret to making good wine?
MJK: You gotta be hands on, boutique. You gotta pay attention to it, just like anything else. You need to concentrate, and pay attention to what's actually going on.
V: Does it, uh, have any similarities to making music?
MJK: Sure. Absolutely. The way I make music is similar, because we're very much a hands-on band. And all my bands, we walk things through, step by step. We dissect as much as we can. We feel it out, rather than doing obvious cookie cutter processes.
V: Is your vineyard looking for the wine-world equivalent of a major label deal?
MJK: At the moment the winery is looking to be a very small production. We're very hands-on, maybe just three or four blends. If I do anything on a larger scale, it winds up being an investment in somebody else's company. It won't be my brand, then, just something I'm investing in.
V: Do you feel like the wine, the music, and the Puscifer brand are three separate audiences? Or do you think there might be folks who are into all three?
MJK: There will be some crossover, but I'm not sure that the wine community is necessarily a rock community. Not the fine wine community. So I've made an effort to separate Puscifer from the
winery. The winery's going to be a far more family, community-based, nurturing kind of thing that fosters those kinds of feelings. And Puscifer's going to be everything that your mother warned you about. It'll be all that crazy, sacrilegious, push-the-envelope, question authority stuff. The dark side. It'll be my little angel and my little devil. Puscifer is the little devil on my shoulder and my angel is the wine. Coexisting.
V: It sounds like you've taken care to build firewalls between these projects. Do you ever worry that one of your wilder Puscifer products might offend someone and hurt the band's ability to get gigs at certain venues, or that controversy caused by one of your projects could cause trouble for the others?
MJK: No, I'm not too worried. 'Cause Puscifer is going to be small batches of stuff. If we get complaints, it'll be like "Oh, you don't like one? Okay, we won't sell that one anymore." And I'll just wait until you go away. Then I'll sell a different one. Once again, I'm not looking to take any of this global—I'm already making a living in other areas. I'm just looking to just have fun and to sell enough of it to support the project. So it'll just be my sense of humor. People that get it will buy it, and the ones that don't aren't invited.
