#he’s a funky little dude and I wanna see what makes him tick

[snowyh2o]

More late night thoughts on Hazbin Hotel Episode 5:

It’s kinda funny to me, how when episode 5 first dropped everyone in the Alastor tag were freaking out over how horrible a person he was to be treating Husk like that and that he and Valentino were exactly the same or that if this is how he treats Husk imagine how he treats his other friends/Nifty!

But my first thought, my gut reaction, was ALASTOR’S ON A LEASH?! And Wow, what a loss of control there pal.

Because Alastor’s a character who, at his core, likes to be in control. Of himself, his reactions, and the situations he finds himself in. He has a pathological need to always be smiling because it gives him a sense of control over himself and projects the idea to others that nothing bothers him and everything is always going his way.

So to lose that composure, that act so completely in front of Husk? Because of one little comment? And show exactly how much that little taunt had affected him?

That was the thing that stuck out to me. Not his treatment of Husk or their relationship. Because that was a little snippet into Alastor’s head, how he ticks, how he reacts, what sets him off.

It’s very very telling how afterwards he acts like nothing is wrong, like he hadn’t just threatened to tear Husk’s soul apart and broadcast his screams across hell. He even plays a little jaunty tune, forces levity into the situation, and pretends like there’s nothing wrong. It’s clear he’s clamping down on his emotions, and taking back control of the situation, of himself, by doing that. Like taking a deep breath after a sudden rush of intense uncontrolled emotion.

Because in a way it’s almost, embarrassing? To lose control like that, especially towards someone who’s soul he outright owns. Usually when people get on his nerves (and he thinks he can get away with it), he taunts them, mocks them, and treats them condescendingly until they take themselves out in anger, or the conversation shifts away from the topic that had him on edge. (And he tries that with Husk at first, except Husk is too perceptive and not afraid to call someone out on their bullshit.)

So for Alastor to feel like he’d lost control of the situation so much that he’d grasp at it by forcibly reminding Husk how he controls his soul is just, wow. Reminding himself of the control he has on someone else’s soul to forget he’s lost control of his own soul. Dude REALLY doesn’t have it all together as he’d like for others to believe.

Anyways, stream of consciousness thoughts. But all this to say that I’m like, 99% sure Alastor’s a little in over his head? With whatever the fucks going on with his “leash”. And he’s very desperately trying to pretend that Everything is Fine even when it’s Clearly Not.

[sinceileftyoublog]

Aaron Frazer Interview: Dimensional Soul

Photo by Alysse Gafkjen

BY JORDAN MAINZER

The members of Durand Jones & The Indications seem to be expanding their horizons. Last month, we featured an album produced by the band’s guitarist Blake Rhein, and today, it’s multi-instrumentalist and co-lead singer Aaron Frazer, whose solo debut Introducing... was released last Friday on Dead Oceans and Easy Eye Sound. The latter label’s founder, none other than The Black Keys frontman Dan Auerbach, produced Frazer’s solo debut and flexed his clout to bring in legendary session musicians, wanting to work with Frazer immediately after hearing him sing. But as much as Frazer talks about Auerbach’s influence and skill, as he did during our phone interview from his Brooklyn home last month, listening to Introducing... is a clear distillation of Frazer as an artist, almost entirely. Though he and Auerbach co-wrote almost every song, and many further with other songwriters with impressive resumes like L. Russell Brown, Frazer doubles down on the genre hopping and progressive soul that Durand Jones & The Indications explore. Sure, there are moments of sweet old school soul, like opener “You Don’t Wanna Be My Baby” and doo wop slow jam “Have Mercy”. Yet, the album’s as much influenced by hip hop, from the Biz Markie strut of “If I Got It (Your Love Brought It)” to the Dilla swing tempo changes of “Girl on the Phone”. And thematically, for every blue-eyed love song, there’s a song like “Done Lyin’”, a lurking track about his friends’ experiences with addiciton, or “Bad News”, a funky burner of environmental existentialism. Wholly varied and confident, Introducing...is a remarkable debut.

Read my interview with Frazer below, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: What does your debut allow you to do differently than Durand Jones & The Indications or any other projects you’re involved in?

Aaron Frazer: I guess the biggest thing is it gave me the opportunity to work with Dan Auerbach from The Black Keys. He’s a musician who I’m a big fan of. A large part of me learning how to sing initially was when I got my driver’s license, and I was in the car by myself, and I would be singing to The Black Keys’ Brothers and some of the early stuff like Thickfreakness and the Chulahoma EP. So that was a big difference, getting to work with a musician that I love. But also a place I felt like I could stretch out a little more in terms of defying genre classifications, a little bit. Obviously, there’s a lot of soul influence and R&B type stuff, but there are other ingredients in the mix.

SILY: Was there anything specific you were trying to communicate with your debut?

AF: Mostly just that I’m a person with a lot of different dimensions--not just as a music listener, but on a personal level. I wanted to show people sides of myself that they hadn’t seen yet. I hope that people can kind of hear this music and find it in themselves to explore these other dimensions and not feel the pressure to be one kind of music listener or one kind of anything in their life. To enjoy pushing the boundaries.

SILY: You and Dan co-wrote almost every song, but what was it like working and writing with such a wide variety of people?

AF: It was really cool and intense. I was leaving my co-writing comfort zone. Writing with Blake and Durand, I’ve known those dudes for 10 years. But writing with Dan, we have so much shared musical love--really specific records. This one gospel record, the first time we met, he put it on, and I was like, “Are you kidding me?!? I’ve never heard anyone else put this on.” This song called “Let Jesus Work It Out” by this Ohio gospel band called The Daytonians. That level of specificity made me feel more comfortable writing with Dan. For most of the sessions, he brought in some of the older writers who had been around for decades longer than the experience of both of us put together. It was really cool to hear their perspective. L. Russell Brown wrote with Frankie Valli. It was really cool to see the way their approach was different than mine, and it was cool and affirming to see the ways I was like, “Oh yeah! That’s how I do it also.”

SILY: Once you established that rapport with Dan, did you trust him to bring in the right person even if you didn’t know them personally or never worked with them?

AF: [laughs] That’s kind of his process. There was a lot of faith I had to put in him. He likes you to keep being surprised, and he tailors the songwriters and the session players to the artist he’s working with. This particular configuration of session players had never appeared before on a record. So it does require a lot of faith in a producer I’ve never worked with before--I had never worked with any producer before other than co-producing with Blake. But a key part of our conversation was sending songs back and forth. If you’re building a house together, you gotta make sure you’re imagining the same type of house before you lay down the foundations.

SILY: Some of Dan’s production work over the past decade has been late career albums from artists like Dr. John and John Anderson. You’re established, but you still have a long road ahead of you. Did you get a sense as to whether his approach was different working with a younger artist?

AF: I think it definitely was. He’s such an eclectic listener and can be really elastic in moving from genre to genre. It’s also partially what I brought to the table in the collaboration--bringing hip hop records. Even though we’re making a soul, rock, and gospel record, here’s the lens I want to filter through. It was an interesting challenge. These session players are all so virtuosic. If you listen more than you talk, you’ll hear them talk about working with Frank Sinatra. You’re like, “What the fuck?” A song like “Can’t Leave It Alone”, it’s all about single note stabs. Someone like Freddie King used to put all his weight behind one piercing electric guitar note. But working with session musicians, we stripped it back. Thankfully, everybody was able to adjust to playing this post-hip-hop style.

SILY: I do love the piano plinks of “Can’t Leave It Alone” in between the blares of guitars and horns.

AF: It’s funny you point that out. That’s Bobby Wood. He’s part of The Memphis Boys. He played on Dusty Springfield’s “Son of a Preacher Man”, Aretha Franklin records. He’s been around for so long. For “Can’t Leave It Alone”, those piano plinks, I was explaining J Dilla swing. Bobby Wood’s been around forever, and I’m trying to explain, “It’s not off beat, but not quite on beat. It’s kind of rickety!” He was able to wrap his head around that and adjust. He was kind of blown away. Anybody, regardless of their profession, when they get older, their brain starts to be like, “I know what I know.” For someone to be so fluid in their playing [was amazing.]

SILY: Was there a consistent approach to the arrangements and instrumentation among all the songs?

AF: I think the consistency was that every song required something a little different. Taking it song to song, if you listen, the song will tell you what it needs. I know it sounds New Age and bullshit or whatever, but there’s not a formula. At least with the music I make, it feels like a continuum of learning lessons and applying them, and eventually, you start to develop experience that can turn into a little jungle wisdom. Like, “You know what, it doesn’t need the horns or a solo there.” Even if you have the means, talent, or virtuosity to do it, just trying to do what the song needs.

SILY: You’ve talked about how “Bad News” is more political than the other songs, mentioning Gil Scott-Heron and Curtis Mayfield as influences. There’s also a long history of soul songs about the environment specifically. Did you think of this song within that realm?

AF: I think any time I’m writing music that’s making a comment on politics and the country, I think about it in the context of the history of soul writers and singers and particularly the artists you mentioned. In terms of soul songs about the environment, I wasn’t like, “I’m gonna sit down and join a long list of soul songs about the environment.” It’s just an issue that’s on my mind a lot. It’s always looming in the background. Sometimes, when we get into the weeds of the factionalism of American politics--not even left vs. right, more left vs. further left vs. even further left--it’s like, “Everybody, this shit is happening. The clock is really ticking.” It’s hard not to sound like an alarmist. It’s hard for me and truly anybody to wrap their heads around a mass existential threat like that. It’s so big you want to look away from it.

SILY: I noticed “Gil Scott” was credited with the flute on that song. Is that a sample?

AF: That’s actually Leon Michels from the El Michels Affair. He’s the co owner of Big Crown Records. He cheekily listed himself like that in the end credits.

SILY: “Done Lyin’”, on the flip side, is about addiction and some of your friends’ experiences with it. How did you approach the instrumentation on a song like that about something more solemn, as opposed to so many of the other upbeat tracks on here?

AF: Part of the reason why Curtis and Gil Scott-Heron loom so largely in my creative life is because they found room within themselves and on their records to express the full dimension of themselves, the fullness of their identities. Not just the political fury, but moments of tenderness and happiness and grieving and anger and confusion. They’re all there on the record and all there in all of us. I wanted to make sure I’m giving room to myself to feel and process all the things. Especially something like addiction to opiates. A lot of people in this country are suffering from that epidemic.

SILY: I’d like to ask you about the instrumentation and arrangements of a few specific songs in a row on the record. First, tell me about the tempo change in “Girl on the Phone”.

AF: That’s something I feel hip-hop gave me. You listen to J Dilla, for example, it’ll start with the original sample and then all of a sudden will jolt forward into this new thing, slow down, and pick up again. It’s fun to do that at the source material level, rather than somebody going back and flipping the sample.

SILY: You’ve mentioned J Dilla twice now. Do you have a favorite track by him?

AF: [laughs] That’s a good question. “Don’t Cry” on Donuts. That’s a perfect example of the sort of tempo changes that feel really natural.

SILY: On the track after “Girl on the Phone”, “Love Is”, the Juno synth really stood out to me on a record that’s really retro sounding.

AF: That’s a really fun one for me. That’s a good moment of pushing the genre. Making it a little harder when you just listen for five seconds and think, “This is just old school soul.” I’m not gonna kid myself. A bunch of people will hear the record and think that, and I get it, but it’s nice to have those moments of breaking the mold. I have an acoustic rendition of “Love Is” I’m really excited to show people, which is how we originally wrote it, on acoustic guitar. It’s much folkier. You have this kind of cosmic country thing, this big open psychedelic private press folk vibe, and then you mix it with the Wu-Tang [ad libs a beat] 36 Chambers thing.

SILY: Lastly, “Over You” almost has a punk vibe to it.

AF: That’s definitely the fastest song I’ve ever written. People know me for only slow jams, which I love and will write many more of over the course of my life, but it’s fun to challenge myself there as a songwriter. It helps me free myself up creatively. “This is the tempo, but I want to write it this way.” Putting yourself in that paradigm can help you reach different musical conclusions if you [instead] were to just sit down and open up a Google Doc with your guitar and think, “Okay, I could write anything in the world with any chord, what will it be?” 

SILY: Tell me about the videos you’ve released so far.

AF: Music videos are interesting. I’m enjoying the challenging process of finding my creative voice with videos, trying to sharpen my vision the same way I can hear the record I want to make. Music videos are a little trickier, but I love the ones we’ve dropped so far. I had the idea for the “Bad News” video because it’s really just exactly what the song conjured up in my head. Cold sidewalks, the grey sidewalks of New York. It feels like the sound of the city to me. Somebody being by themselves in a city that feels so indifferent. I called my friend who directed the video, Julia Barrett-Mitchell, and told her about the idea. She had an exact person in mind, her friend Nicole Javanna Johnson who danced in the video. That whole video was pre-shot. There was no crew other than the director of the video, me, and the dancer. I’m behind the camera with my hand on Nicole’s back. She’s tightrope walking on the curb, and then I run ahead of her from the left side of the screen. It was fun to keep things a little gritty and guerilla that way.

“If I Got It (Your Love Brought It)”, that song I was in the DMV in Sacramento with my lady in the commercial vehicles office. Behind the desk they have a bunch of toy trucks, and at the top, there was a sign from the International Brotherhood of Teamsters in the 50′s, Jimmy Hoffa era, that said, “If you got it, a truck brought it.” I was like, “It’s snappy, that’s a hot line.” I sat with it for a second and personalized it, and the song fell into place really quickly. When a central concept is very strong like that, it’s very clear. You’ll find that in a lot of country songs. The verses fit in. It’s like structuring an essay. The verses support the main pieces of the song. That being a union slogan, I had a vision of a union banner with that slogan on it. I wanted to take it up and down the west coast and get a shit ton of people in front of it, but the director, El Oms (Omar Juarez), who is a celebrated artist within the Chicano community on the West Coast, he did a great job rounding up a lot of people from within the community in L.A. and a few in San Diego, and shot people with things that bring them joy and love. That’s the entire spirit of the song.

“Over You” was the first video of the three I shot. I wanted dancing. I wanted at least one person in the video who could do a soul dance. It’s a pretty specific style of dancing that you’ll see mostly in the UK. I wanted to celebrate the northern soul community in that song. The song has a cinematic quality to it, so we wanted to do quick cuts, giving it that kind of campy, scrolling background in the back of a car that’s stationary, where you can see it’s shot in a studio. Not to take ourselves super seriously, to show the drama.

SILY: Did you watch The Irishman?

AF: I did, but after “If I Got It” was written. But I believe the phrase makes an appearance in the background of the film. I love gangster films. Maybe I’ll catch some heat for this, but my favorite is The Departed. I don’t love The Godfather. I respect it because you gotta respect the mold.

SILY: Do you have a hard time thinking of music in general cinematically, or is that just with your own music?

AF: I definitely think of music cinematically. At the end of the day, my low-key dream job is being a music supervisor and curating soundtracks for film and television. Growing up, my brother and I used to play a game when driving where we’d put on a song and would describe what would be going on in the scene in a fictional movie. Make up what’s happening. So I definitely think of things cinematically but in the course of smaller moments. “This is the song that would fit perfectly in this particular moment of a journey.” But you have to tell the full story.

SILY: What’s the story behind the album art?

AF: I wanted it to give a nod to the classic rockabilly stars and private press compilations, where it’s a cutout of a photo on a solid background. You’ll see that a lot in rockabilly compilations from France. I wanted to put it in a place where if you saw it, you weren’t sure what era it was from. I love playing and luxuriating in that. Is it old? Is it new? Who is singing? What does this person look like? Is it a woman singing? I get that all the time: “I thought you were a girl!” I love that.

SILY: What else is next for you?

AF: The album was recorded a year ago, but there’s just so much [to do]. You really become aware of that when you’re a solo artist. There’s really no sharing the load with your bandmates. All the packaging decisions, making sure the details are right, like, “I wanted the front part of the jacket coated, and the back part uncoated.” Merch design, posters, music videos, all that stuff. That’s definitely kept me busy in the interim. I’ve also been working on the Durand Jones & The Indications record we’ll be recording this winter. It’s fun to bring some of the lessons I’ve learned from the solo record back to the band but keep the spirit of evolution and pushing. I think people will be able to hear so much of what they know and love from Durand Jones & The Indications but also feel us growing as songwriters.

SILY: Is there anything you’ve been listening to, reading, or watching lately that’s notable?

AF: I just finished watching The Queen’s Gambit. In truth, I don’t think it’s super good, just really expensive. But it looks great! I’ve been also watching Lovecraft Country. I also started watching The Last Dance. That documentary is cool. They really have amazing access to somebody who is so good at what they do and so competitive and driven. It’s fun to see somebody so competitive in a different line of work.

Introducing... by Aaron Frazer