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 JONATHAN PIERCE – frontman, songwriter and producer of THE DRUMS – sounds like he’s in that weird limbo between delirium-fuelled fantasy and crushing fatigue; the kind of limbo only extreme jet lag and lack of sleep can create. He still manages a charming cadence when chatting with EMILY WILLIAMS.
Technically a quartet out of Brooklyn (with roots in Florida), The Drums early output quickly gained the attention of bloggers, and as a result the attention of independent labels. With songs echoing both ‘60s girl groups (they often cite The Shangri-Las, and may soon collaborate with Mary Weiss) and ’80s British boy indie-pop (can you remember Sarah Records?), they make music invoking summertime whimsy and broken hearts. It’s a brand of guitar-driven, ooh-ooh-ooh indie-pop that’s not the typical Brooklyn cool. Instead, like their small gang of kindred spirits, The Drums’ simple songs pierce a sensitive heart – but avoid getting too lost gazing into their own glitter-encrusted navels.
Speaking with Jonathan Pierce, he explains The Drums music is pretty much “a beautiful accident”: “When I’m writing and recording there’s this rule – I have to not force anything, to not labour over anything – and every song that has ever been released by The Drums, I’ve written and recorded it in one day.
“I think the reason that that happens is because (a) I don’t know what I’m doing,” he laughs, “and (b) I wait for the songs to almost have a sense of urgency, like I have to write them. I wait ‘til they’re almost bubbling out so it happens quickly, and a lot of the time it feels effortless … and I don’t know how to say that and explain that without sounding like an arsehole.”
It’s hard for anyone to sound like an arsehole in the stammering, almost fidgety manner in which Pierce replies. It’s like he’s apologising for being too uncomplicated, something that lies at the core of The Drums.
“I’ll finish a song and I’ll be so terrified to show it too, I’ll know it’s done but I’ll feel like it’s inadequate, I remember specifically the song Book Of Stories, I really loved it and I didn’t think I could add anything more to it … it took me two days to show anyone else in the band because I’m so very self conscious after I’ve completed a song, and it’s very hard for me to show it to anyone. So I have to kind of like, hit play and run out of the room, and hope that they like it.”
“I really think how we dress is quite boring, but I think we sort of stick out like a sore thumb, because everyone else is wearing shoes that are made out of glass.”
Between lengthy umms and ahhs, Pierce belies the man I witnessed bounding around a small stage at SXSW earlier this year. Gesticulating and staring out over the sea of faces like some kind of Ian Curtis/David Bowie/Morrissey hybrid, he was the embodiment of melodramatic, yet controlled chaos (providing a focal point alongside the equally manic and thoroughly engaging tambourinist Jacob Graham).
His next breath then, is not surprising … “I have a really hard time watching myself live. It’s this whole idea of staying as incubated as you can … I think one of the pillars of The Drums, something that makes The Drums special, is we don’t really know what we’re doing, we know what we wanna do, we don’t really know how to get there, but we try to get there.”
And what do you want to do?
“What do we wanna do? We wanna write perfect pop songs, and we want to be part of a revolution that changes radio from being perfect and boring to being human and beautiful again, and I just think there’s been 10 years of so much … obviously, there’s been so much music, but I don’t think there’s been a lot of songs and we kind of wanna return to the song; these great pop songs have been sort of lost and that’s why we’re not trying to do anything new, we’re just trying to write pop songs, you know?”
Getting back to basics – writing and recording a song as soon as the idea percolates – retains a certain level of romantic urgency in a world where chart-topping pop (and its associated marketing campaigns) has become an almost mathematical equation.
“I think in America, and probably in Europe too, when people hear the word pop, they think instantly Lady Gaga and Kylie Minogue,” he offers. And while Gaga and Minogue have a place in the lexicon of popular culture it’s not where this lad’s heart lies.
“All that stuff, it serves its purpose I guess, but great pop songs that I love are ones I need to hear when I’m alone in my room, laying on my bed staring at the ceiling, wondering what I’m gonna do with my life.”
Be still the beating heart of a hopeless romantic.
“Those are the songs I wanna hear, when I’m craving The Wake, and wanting to hear a really sad song. I think maybe the best, the best five years of music were the Sarah Records years.”
Pausing to catch his breath, I start to wander how old this guy actually is … “It’s really exciting for me because nobody really cared about those bands, but they all just wrote [these] beautiful sensitive pop songs, just about teenage heartbreak. And the idea of that is so exciting to me, and I think that’s because I’m getting older every day and I just wanna hold onto my youth so I, for every song I write…”
“…in Brooklyn everyone is wearing neon face paint and feathers in their hair … it’s like a contest of who can be the weirdest. And you know, to us, we kind of ran the other way…”
Jesus Jonathan, are you in a mid-life crisis? You sound like me…
Laughing he replies, “I know; I think a quarter-life crisis.”
A debonair romantic, emblematic of the group’s calculated disarray, in artfully extravagant crisis – perhaps one not eased by the fact Pierce and sleep have an interesting relationship (“I get really depressed when I fall [asleep], when I’m alone sleeping so I try to … stay awake”), or that the band are now homeless, having given up the leases on their apartments. Not that The Drums felt a great affinity with the current trends in their Brooklyn hometown, instead taking cues from pop’s more stylistically defined eras – the crisp ‘50s and ‘60s, and, umm, grandparents (something ‘80s indie-popsters did with great aplomb).
“Our band is a very visual band, and all the bands that we love all kind of took their look very seriously, and you know, living in Brooklyn…”
… you can’t escape it?
“In Brooklyn everyone is wearing neon face paint and feathers in their hair … it’s like a contest of who can be the weirdest. And you know, to us, we kind of ran the other way and just wanted to dress like your grandparents would dress. I mean, we wear these Levis jeans and white t-shirts and sneakers. I really think how we dress is quite boring, but I think we sort of stick out like a sore thumb, because everyone else is wearing shoes that are made out of glass.”
But their clean sneakers and crisp t-shirts have nonetheless found a welcoming niche, something cemented when Peggy Wang from The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart guested at a show back in January. Essentially, they began to find like-minded groups with similar ideals.
“It was a real special moment for us and I think it was the beginning of what I think was a certain sense of camaraderie with these specific bands in Brooklyn who are doing things similar to The Drums; bands like Night School, The Hairs, The Pains Of Being Of Pure At Heart, all just writing simple pop songs … it’s cool to be part of something.”
Being a part of something, missing New York, and heading to Australia are three things Jonathan Pierce never thought he’d experience. Again, it’s something this beautiful accident has afforded him.
“We never thought we’d be going to Australia, we never though we’d leave New York.”
THE DRUMS play the Splendour In The Grass Ampitheatre at 2.20pm on Saturday Jul 31. Their self-titled debut LP is out now through Moshi Moshi/Shock. www.myspace.com/thedrumsforever
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