BmoreArt

Jaddie Fang: You’ve been together as a band for over 40 years, which is rare in the music industry. What has been the key to maintaining both your personal and professional relationships?

James: Relationships? I’m not sure if there’s a formula for maintaining them. I don’t think it’s something you can consciously control. We just get along well, enjoy what we do, and enjoy doing it together.

We’ve been lucky to work with some great people. We’ve been with Matador Records for about 30 years now. Our booking agencies and crew, including our sound engineers, have been with us for a long time too. In a way, it feels like a family. We keep seeing each other, keep working together, and never get tired of each other. It’s fun, and we keep coming back for more.

Looking back on your time with Ectoslavia alongside David Berman, Stephen Malkmus, and Bob Nastanovich, what stands out to you most about that period creatively? 

I knew David and the members of Slavia from my hometown, Charlottesville, Virginia, where they were university students. I wasn’t a student, but I grew up in town and became friends with some people who worked at the university radio station. I eventually got my own radio show there. This was around the time when Bob Nastanovich from Pavement was there, and Stephen Malkmus was there for a while too. The station manager and music director was John, who was in a band called The Happy Flowers, which had records on Homestead Records. Before that, John was in a Charlottesville hardcore band called The Landlords, who I saw perform when I was in high school. They kind of changed my life.

It was a big university and a pretty creative time, with many people figuring out what they wanted to do. We were just all there at the same time and became friends. I only played briefly with David and those guys. It was a very free environment, with not much rehearsal or songwriting—it was more about art. That opportunity was what I needed. It made me want more and gave me confidence that I could actually make music with others.

In the texts of the reissued “I Can Hear Music from Morr Music” in 2012, you wrote “The year was 1994… Lo-fi music was sweeping the nation!” At that time, Brinkman Records released your album as Dump, Superpowerless, and Matador released Yo La Tengo’s sixth album, Painful, also the first for the label. How do you think Dump complements or contrasts with your work in Yo La Tengo? 

I really enjoyed making music by myself and figuring out ways to do it with limited resources. The immediacy of recording yourself is exciting—you can capture music as it’s being created or played for the first time. You can get there more quickly than if you were prepared and going into a professional studio, though I have tremendous respect for those professionals.

A lot of people in bands don’t have access to professional studios, or they might lack the confidence to work with someone they don’t know. Doing it yourself lets you work at your own pace, make mistakes, and learn from them. It’s liberating to work that way. The more I did it, the more I learned about arranging songs and putting recordings together. I really enjoyed using a 4-track recorder, but now I use Pro Tools on my computer and have recorded a lot of Yo La Tengo music that way. I love it because it combines professionalism with a DIY, unpolished approach, which I find really appealing.

Your live shows are known for their spontaneity and variety. How do you approach setlists and performances, and how important is improvisation to your live shows?

Every show we do is unique. In recent years, our concerts have been quite long, usually without a support act. We play two sets with a break in the middle—the first set is quieter, and the second is louder. This structure allows us to make each show different and special, letting us perform songs we might not play if we only had one set.

For instance, we have a festival gig in London this weekend with just a 35-minute set, which is only enough time for three or four songs. It’s a big change for us since we usually like to play longer shows that explore different aspects of our music, varying in volume and intensity, to present a complete picture of who we are.

Our setlists often reflect what’s current. We released  This Stupid World last year and still include several songs from that album in our shows. We usually start with those and then mix in older tracks, sometimes even pulling out songs we rarely play to keep things interesting. That’s generally how we approach it.

In the title track, ‘This Stupid World,” the lyrics reflect a sense of frustration and existential contemplation. Can you elaborate on the message you intended to convey with this song, and how it encapsulates the overall theme of the album? How did the studio environment influence the final outcome of the album?

You’re right about frustration; it’s about not giving up when faced with it. We made This Stupid World entirely on our own, not in a professional studio, but in our rehearsal space. I handled much of the engineering, and we mixed it ourselves. No one else heard it until we were nearly done. We’d work every afternoon, creating a space where we could experiment freely.

It was a very creative and exciting time. I looked forward to working every day and even studied how to use the equipment better. It was a great experience, and I loved every moment.

The music industry has changed dramatically since you started, as well as the DIY scenes. What are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced in this evolving landscape, and how have you adapted?

Yes, the music industry has changed a lot, but we’ve adapted over the years by working a little harder and getting better at what we do. Our best strategy for handling all these changes has been working with Matador Records, because we trust them a lot. Honestly, we don’t really know much about the changes in the industry or what we’re supposed to do, but Matador has been incredibly helpful and generous.

Changes have been happening for so long that we were concerned about CDs when they first came out. We’ve been around a long time and seen a lot, but we still love what we do. Somehow, we’ve managed to navigate it all and do it well.

As a foreigner, I sometimes feel that only American musicians can form a band like Yo La Tengo, surrounded by so many great predecessors and able to draw inspiration from them to create music freely. Do you feel influenced by this environment as well?

Maybe. But often, I think other versions can be better in some ways. I think of the Velvet Underground—they were amazing. But the bands that formed later, like Big Star or the Modern Lovers, who were inspired by the Velvet Underground, were also incredible. They also took that inspiration, made it special, and made it their own. To me, that’s incredibly important and is a form of inspiration in itself.

You seem to enjoy the familiarity of being in Baltimore. Are there any bands from Baltimore that you find amazing?

Sure. Two bands that come to mind right away are Beach House and Matmos—we’ve been friends with them and played together many times over the years. They’re really tremendous. I also have a personal connection to Baltimore. My father’s side of the family is from there, so I’m very familiar with the city.

Yo La Tengo plays Rams Head Live on Sunday, September 22, 2024. Doors open at 7 pm, and tickets are available online.