Duncan Reilly

Interview - Oshwa

Duncan Reilly

Oshwa isn’t trying to be a complicated band. While their most recent album, Chamomile Crush, showcases the Chicago four-piece’s ability to integrate complex polyrhythms and intricate, interlocking parts into sophisticated, fun, and deeply weird indie pop, their 2013 EP, Tigers, shows them moving into more straight-ahead territory – while still keeping it sophisticated, fun, and weird. I visited them in the Pilsen (neighborhood in Chicago, not fourth most populous city in the Czech Republic) apartment where they practice, and talked to them about their musical backgrounds, being called a math-rock band, and their plans for their next album.

ThrdCoast: What are your musical backgrounds?

Mike MacDonald: I guess just writing songs on the guitar. I wasn’t trained like [Alicia Walter and Jordan Tate] were trained, so mostly just chasing a certain aesthetic all the time and trying to find it. I’ve been doing that since I was a kid, and I haven’t found it yet.

Matt Noonan: I dunno, I was in high school band. I was in pit for a while, playing percussion and tuba. That’s about it, though. I actually blew a whole year of my life studying music in college.

Jordan Tate: I did that too.

MN: And now I’m here. So that’s cool.

Alicia Walter: I took piano lessons as a kid, all through high school, and I was in high school marching band with Matt. I went to Illinois Wesleyan to study piano performance, but I transferred out because I thought I hated it, and I kind of did. But I ended up going to Columbia [College] for music composition, and that’s where I graduated from. So I actually blew more years studying music than Matt.

JT: I played piano through my childhood, and also went to Columbia for composition. Basically exactly what she said.

TC: How did you all meet and start playing music together?

AW: Matt and I went to high school together, Jordan and I met in college. Mike and I both used to live in a co-op up in Rogers Park, and we lived in a house with a bunch of people. I started playing as a solo project in about 2010, and then asked Jordan to play a show. So it was originally just me and Jordan. It was a really different setup; I was doing a lot of vocal looping and playing the ukulele. Mike started playing with us after a few months – he joined on guitar, and that’s about when I switched to guitar too – and then Matt joined us a little after that. So now we’ve been a band for… I don’t know, two years?

MN: I feel like we’ve been saying two years for two years.

MM: It can’t be two years. It’s like four.

AW: It’s not four years.

MN: It’s approaching four.

MM: Definitely more than two.

AW: Yeah, but we weren’t even a band then. I mean this.

MN: We were called the same thing.

AW: But we, physically, have been this band for two years.

TC: Do you think the solo work you were doing at the beginning impacted the direction the band decided to go in?

MM: It’s kind of different now.

AW: Everything’s changed.

JT: Yeah, it’s evolved throughout the time we’ve been a band.

AW: I think it would’ve changed even if it were me personally writing that music – four years ago, I was a very different person with a very different writing style – but we each changed a lot individually, and the way we write our music did too. Like, we still have some universal truths that we sound like. We still sound like Oshwa, but our sound itself has evolved.

MM: As different members came in and started playing, you started to hear the different elements. Like, Jordan’s drums, my aesthetic, and Matt’s aesthetic, you can start to hear that in Transmissions from the Midwest.

AW: Yeah, that was our first release as a full band.  And ever since then, it’s been full band songs. The stuff before that is more, like, bedroom recording stuff.

MN: We’re a band now.

MM: Everyone writes their own parts, it’s collaborative. Whereas on the Midwest album it was less collaborative, since Alicia was writing some of my guitar parts. The next album was a little more collaborative, with a lot more guitar work from me, so you can hear that difference. It’s a lot more colorful, I’d say, and in some ways it’s a lot more thick, where that album is a little more spaced out. But you can still kind of hear some of Alicia’s solo stuff in that album.

TC: What else, musical or non-musical, influences your songwriting?

MN: Barenaked Ladies [laughs].

AW: Yeah, right. I kind of feel that my listening has changed so much in the past few years. I really only used to listen to bands that I would identify with as a direct inspiration. I would listen to bands that we kind of sounded like, I would only listen to quirky indie bands or something. But now I feel like I listen to so much more music, just generally speaking. I don’t know. I don’t even know how to directly answer that.

MM: It’s kind of a hard question to answer. I mean, we get them from so many places that it’s hard to even answer a question like that.

AW: Well, I think we all have really high individual standards for our own performances. We’re all very particular people, and we’re not just approaching this as a very hands-off process. Our writing process is pretty intense, and we’re very specific and very intentional with our parts. I think even our own standards, and how we treat our band as a job kind of influences what we sound like.

MM: It sounds like us.

TC: So talk to me about what the songwriting process is like. Can you walk me through the creation of a song?

MM: It kind of changes from song to song. Usually we start with a section or a part that I wrote, or that Alicia wrote. Lately Alicia’s been writing more whole songs.

MN: Whole structures, anyway. Maybe not whole songs.

MM: Whereas on our last album, that was not the case at all. I would write a section, she would write a section, we would do a section together, and we would figure out as a band how to put them together.

JT: Overall, it’s going a lot more smoothly. Because Alicia’s presenting it totally complete, where she has a song all written out and she plays it for us.

MM: So you can kind of understand the vibe a little better, as a whole.

AW: And it’s inherently cohesive, whereas before we were trying to force parts together.

MM: It came off really episodic. Like, take the song “Chamomile Crush,” where it’s like, two different ideas entirely.

AW: Yeah, and I think we thought it was – not that I don’t like the music, I do like that album, but it’s a little more streamlined now.

MN: Even our writing style is more accessible.

AW: Everything’s way more accessible.

MM: It doesn’t confuse older people.

AW: And that’s a difference, too. I noticed at Wicker Park Fest, when we had just played three new songs, that our newer stuff really is much more accessible to my parents, and your dad.

JT: It’s dad rock [laughs].

AW: But I think accessibility is a good thing. My mom used to – I don’t know how she’d describe our music, but she thought it was crazy, and really couldn’t hear anything that sounded familiar, because it is really different. Now I think we’re way more appealing to a general audience. In a good way.

JT: Yeah, we weren’t really getting anything for being so outlandish, I guess.

TC: I’ve even heard it called math rock in the past. What’s your relationship with that term?

AW: I think that’s from multiple things. The video for “Old Man Skies” was one of the first songs that we released before the album [Chamomile Crush] came out, and that song happened to have irregular time signatures, and some noodly guitar parts. And our label is also associated with a lot of math-rock bands.

MM: It was put out by Matthew Frank, who plays guitar in The Paramedics and There There There, and there was also a lot of stuff posted on Reddit calling us a math rock band, and I think people just saw that and went with that, since that was the math-rock crowd. But we’re not necessarily a math-rock band at all. The next album’s going to be so different that people will realize that.

MN: I’m not offended by the math rock thing.

AW: Yeah, I’m not offended by it.

MM: It’s just inaccurate, I’d say.

MN: Sure, but I think a lot of our stuff is very compatible with people who are into that. We’ve played with math-rock bands and those people could still find us interesting, while acknowledging that we’re kind of poppy.

AW: It’s a good qualifier for a band, where if you’re just another indie pop band, and you’re kind of experimental – that word I don’t like either – I think it helps people understand.

MN: People who are hardcore into math rock might give us a shot.

TC: So you’ve mentioned new material in the works. What comes next, is it a new album, a tour…

AW: A Grammy? Yeah, we’re approaching the halfway point of being done with writing our sophomore album. Long game is hopefully to be done by next summer. Or at least to be able to tour by then, whether or not it’s recorded by then. And then, yeah. Put out an album. Tour the globe. Open for Beyoncé.

TC: Anything else you’d like our readers to know?

MM: We’re playing a show with Buke and Gase on Monday, October 6th at The Empty Bottle. Come check us out.

Pre-Release: Aphex Twin - SYRO

Helloooo, ladies.

Helloooo, ladies.

Duncan Reilly

Even before anyone heard it, there were already at least two hypothetical SYROs bouncing around in peoples’ heads. On the first album, Aphex Twin came roaring back unchanged, with no musical indication he’d ever been gone at all. This album sounded a lot like whatever the person in question’s favorite Aphex Twin album was, or perhaps a mashup of several. On the second, he amalgamated everything that had happened in music since drukQs into sixty-four and a half minutes, putting his own three-pronged stamp and his grinning mug on everything in sight. This album sounded like whatever the person wanted Aphex Twin to become, filtered through whatever recent developments in electronic music they liked.

Obviously, judging the actual album in comparison to either of these platonic ideals would be unfair, and in the end, wouldn’t really tell us all that much about how good it is. For what it’s worth, SYRO probably sounds more like the former, but it’s more of a logical followup than a repetition. For the most part, it hews close to his trademark sound. Anyone hoping for breakneck breakbeats, squelchy analog dissonance, and samples distorted beyond recognition will come away content. Like in the best of James’ work, he sounds most at home when he lets his musique concrète and techno influences bounce off each other and wind up in interesting places. At the same time, it’s not a slavish imitation of anything he’s done before. SYRO has its own distinctive sound – as much as any Aphex Twin album can be said to have a cohesive sound – while maintaining the throw-it-in experimentalism that’s always pervaded his work.

The album starts where most peoples’ exposure to it did, with the shuffling “minipops 67.” In a way, it’s the most telling song that could’ve been released, if not the most exciting one. The extra swing in the drums shows up again, even swingier, on “4 bit 9d api+e+6,” and even where the beats stick closely to the established rhythm, the percussive elements are often more evocative of “Windowlicker” than “Mt Saint Michel + Saint Michael's Mount.” The heavily modulated voices that come in at the end of “minipops” are another mainstay of the album, sometimes winking in the direction of soulful house, and other times rumbling under layers of distortion and bit reduction. Overall, and the general aesthetic of oscillating between hard and soft and both simultaneously is present on SYRO.

In the same way, there seems to be very little repetition throughout the record. Most of the music is too focused on juxtaposing one sound with another to have time for hooks of any kind, and on several of the more chaotic songs, even the drums seem to never play the same bar twice. While the vast majority of electronic music today seems to be built around minimalism and structure, Aphex Twin is practicing gleefully chaotic maximalism. Even while some songs like the ten-minute-plus “XMAS_EVET10” seem to have been composed to feature every piece of equipment in James’ studio, every bit of sound is in a place that makes a strange kind of sense. It’s riveting to hear an album this unpredictable for the first time, especially with the mind-boggling level of detail put into every one-off motif. It’s a record that only could have been made by someone with a massive amount of time on their hands.

As the album progresses, though, you’re reminded that even unpredictability can become predictable. The second- and third-to-last songs, “PAPAT4” and “s950tx16wasr10,” probably embody this the most. They’re the fastest two songs on the album, and they contain enough distorted, eerie sampling and processing that it would be difficult to call them boring. But it would also be a stretch to call them great, even more so when there are already so many Aphex Twin tracks that do the same thing better. SYRO would hardly be the first good album to suffer from a few filler tracks, but slow moments pop up elsewhere on the album too, with some of the more exciting ideas constrained by the necessity to fit in with the style. It’s still fun, challenging music, but it doesn’t compare to the high points of James’ discography as well as one might hope.

In contrast, some of the strongest pieces of the album are also the least expected. “180db_” begins with a simple four-on-the-floor beat, and then dissects it, layering polyrhythms and otherworldly textures on top. “aisatsana,” the album’s somber, piano-centric closer, takes after “Avril 14” (from drukQs). But where “Avril 14” was content to plink along metronomically, “aisatsana” lets its chords ring out into space, revealing a subdued, whispery soundscape hidden beneath them. It’s a surprisingly effective gesture, turning the traditional Aphex model of hard beats with pretty things going on in the background on its head, and counterpointing the rest of the album’s comparative heaviness.

The bottom line is, the person hoping that SYRO would be a return to form and the person hoping for it to be radical reinvention will be disappointed. Neither of these are reasons to dismiss the album out of hand; at its worst the album is still very good, and at its best it reminds the listener why Aphex Twin is treated so reverentially in the first place. It’s a carefully made, intricate followup to his previous material, with enough adventurous impulses to make it unique. And, experienced on headphones, it will probably turn out to be an audiophile’s dream. Past that, it’s hard to say much about it. It’s good, but not great. Experimental but not groundbreaking. Exciting but not thrilling. It’s a serviceable Aphex Twin record, with all the good and the bad the phrase implies.

SYRO is due to be released September 19 on Warp Records.