Stage Buzz Q&A: Emmett Kelly (The Cairo Gang)
It doesnât take a psychologist to tell that Emmett Kelly is frustrated with the music business. In fact, heâs livid: âIt drives me crazy. The music industry is one of the most retarded things imaginable.â The California-Chicago transplant has been around the block enough times to figure it out. On top of seven years and four albums as founding member of Chicago-based indie-rock outfit The Cairo Gang, Kellyâs resume boasts dozens of guest spots and collaborations, including chief compositional duties on Bonnie âPrinceâ Billyâs The Wonder Show of the World. Kelly serves as a prime example of free-willed prolificacy; despite his clear and justifiable biz-weariness, the idea of calling it quits doesnât seem to have crossed his mind. When I ask about the lo-fi recording sessions behind Tiny Rebels, The Cairo Gangâs July release, he chatters away with the boyish excitement of a kid plucking his first-ever guitar riff for Deep Purple’s “Smoke on the Water.”
Illinois Entertainer: Tiny Rebels came out less than a year after The Corner Man. What accounts for the quick turnaround?
Emmett Kelly: I was super interested in the way [The Corner Man] was presented. Making the record itself took a really long time, and then getting it actually released took over a year, and by that point I was like, âfuck this, I want this shit to be fast.â I didnât necessarily think I was going to go record a new record or anything, but as I was working on some new stuff [material that would become Tiny Rebels] I was enjoying what was happening and I was going to keep playing with it until it seemed finished. It was finished not even within two months of when The Corner Man was out. The Corner Man was an expression of something really specific and variedâI moved into the studio. That was me being expansive, and [Tiny Rebels] is me streamlining how I do things.
IE: Does that account for the albumâs six-song length?
EK: Honesty, the length of the record is the thing that seems to be most in question, and to tell you the truth, I just consider it to be a completed thing. Itâs just under twenty minutes. I think thatâs a pretty logical span, in this day and age, for a complete thing. Itâs way rarer as time goes on that someone will actually sit and listen to a forty-minute album. People arenât listening to music that way anymore.
IE: Did it take a lot of artistic restraint to keep it short?
EK: No. I didnât have any plans as it was being made. It happened totally organically.
IE: Thereâs a major late ’60s vibe to the record. What prompted that?
EK: Two things happened when I was making this record: I got my twelve-string, and I got a tape machine. I really love the sound of the electric twelve-string. Itâs been sort of âownedâ by the sixtiesâI think, obviously, of The Byrds and George Harrison and The Animals, that chiming soundâitâs cool because the twelve-string is really clean. There arenât any effects on it, but itâs super dreamy and full of complexity. Iâm not really into effects. The idea of using [effects pedals] to wash your sound out bugs me a little bit. The tape-machine was really instrumental in the sound quality as well. The concept of using compression and recording on the tape and hearing a clean electric twelve-stringâI love it because itâs super simple. In reality, [Tiny Rebels] is a guitar going straight into the tape machine. I didnât use any amps.
IE: What kind of twelve-string is it anyway?
EK: Itâs an old Vox twelve-string (Ed note: Vox V223 Mark XII) from the ’60s. Itâs a really ugly guitar. It looks really bad.
IE: A lot of the bands that influenced you musically on this record were writing in response to the political climate of the late â60s. Did Americaâs current political climate influence Tiny Rebels?
EK: The political climate of the world is definitely part of this album, but I donât think itâs directly related to world politics. Itâs more [related to] the political nature of how anything seems toâŚwork. The subject matter of this album is almost entirely in response to trying to work as a musician and get this band moving. I made [Tiny Rebels] by myself, and the idea was to get a band together that could play it. The whole idea of the band was, âOkay, weâre friends and we all play music, but we donât play togetherâwhich is kind of weird.â The songs are basically responding to the dull nature of, âfuck, okay, weâre trying to do stuff, everybodyâs trying to do stuff, weâre trying to do things, weâre nobodies.â It drives me crazy. The music industry is one of the most retarded things imaginable. I donât know where it comes from or why it functions the way it does. Right now, the shifting of what actually matters [regarding] being a musician seems entirely purchasable, which returns to, yâknowââWhat the fuck? Why are we doing this?â
IE: Why are you doing it? What keeps you writing honest music when youâve got to pay rent? How do you work as a musician right now?
EK: The Cairo Gang doesnât support me financially. Most people that I know who work as musicians do the same thing: they have somewhat of a hustle. There are some things that bring money in and there are some things that bring less money in. Itâs about striking a good balance. Iâm lucky; my âworkâ stuff has become massively involved in my creative process. I have a studio, Iâve recorded a few albums [for other bands] in there, Iâve done session-type things, I play in a Japanese band which is totally unknown of. Obviously itâd be really cool if the Cairo Gang made a living, but honestly, the only reason I think that is because itâd be cool if my friends didnât have to spaz out at the notion of going on the road and having fun. Itâs fucking impossible to get on the road right now. Everyone is totally spent and thereâs no offers on the table for gigs outside of town. That has to do with the industry as well. Weâre trying to do all this dumb networking bullshit, and Iâm so bad at that. I donât want anything to do with that. In everything I do musically, Iâm trying to reorient myself with some sort of core value that is important to me in my life, and I generally get to a boiling point where Iâm like, âCome on, weâve gotta do something,â and then I try to get something going and it proves to be the really soul-sucking experience, and then I go back to the drawing board and realize weâd be better off if we could just be a bar band or play somewhere and have people actually enjoy us.
IE: Really? Playing in a bar band would be better than touring with your own stuff?
EK: I meanâI donât know. Iâm trying to think about what it is that weâre actually doing. The point of [Tiny Rebels] was to make rock ânâ roll music that we could play so that people could have fun going to rock ânâ roll shows. And, in all actuality, thatâs what bar bands are. It would make a lot of sense to me if we were just a bar band and people came to see us, or [came] because there was live music happening and there was a good bandâthatâs another angle Iâve been trying to figure out⌠The standardized, systematic touring thing doesnât really pan out. The infrastructure of the business is changing, and a lot of things about it donât make sense for a new band. Of course itâs fun to go out on the road, but weâre trying to figure out a new way to exist and be a little more flexibleâtrying to figure out a way, financially, to make things work.
IE: What makes it worthwhile these days?
EK: That period of time when youâre with your friends and youâre all able to break through some sort of personal dilemma. Musicians have that relationshipâthatâs their outlet. Thatâs the reason why you keep doing it.
The Cairo Gang and Big Search appear at Burlington (Chicago): Saturday 9/7/13, 9pm.
-Matt Pollock
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