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  • A Conversation with Maynard James Keenan of A Perfect Circle, March 2018

    An interview with singer and songwriter Maynard James Keenan conducted on 28 March 2018, ahead of the release of A Perfect Circle’s fourth album, Eat The Elephant.

    Excerpt of the story I wrote for The Australian:

    Open To Interpretation

    A Conversation with Maynard James Keenan of A Perfect Circle, by Andrew McMillen for The Australian newspaper, March 2018

    When the band emerged in 2000, American rock outfit A Perfect Circle was shrouded in intrigue, thanks in large part to a crafty marketing decision. Its debut music video was directed by David Fincher, then known for dark films such as Fight Club and Se7en. His treatment for the song ­Judith — a dynamic earworm that featured soaring slide guitar melodies and pointedly anti-religion lyrics — offered only fleeting glimpses of the band’s five musicians performing in an empty warehouse.

    In Maynard James Keenan [pictured above centre], the group ­possessed an uncommonly powerful singer who also fronted hard rock outfit Tool. With his new project, Keenan took to wearing long, braided wigs in promotional images and on stage, ­perhaps in part to differentiate his persona from the one he inhabited in Tool, where he tended to prefer a bald scalp and an occasional fondness for body paint.

    Judith was a deeply personal song for the singer, as it was named after his mother, who suffered a cerebral aneurysm in 1976 that left her paralysed and restricted to a wheelchair for the rest of her life. Through it all, her faith in a higher power never wavered, which her son found confounding.

    “Fuck your God / Your Lord and your Christ,” Keenan sang. “He did this, took all you had and left you this way / Still you pray, you never stray, you never taste of the fruit / Never thought to question why.” Its chief vocal hook contained just six words dripping with irony: “He did it all for you.”

    It was an explosive introduction to the world and its message resonated. A Perfect Circle’s first album, Mer de Noms, achieved the highest debut position for a rock band on the US Billboard charts, where it sold 188,000 copies in its first week to reach No 4. The group released a second album of original music in 2003, then went on hiatus following an album of anti-war cover songs that was released on the same day as the US presidential election in 2004, when George W. Bush won a second term.

    To read the full story, visit The Australian.

    The full transcript of my interview with Maynard James Keenan appears below. I previously spoke with the singer in 2010 and in 2012.

    ++

    Publicist: I work with Maynard and A Perfect Circle. Before I put him on the line, I just wanted to make sure that they told you that he’s only talking about A Perfect Circle, not his other art. The other thing I should mention is: he doesn’t discuss specific lyrics. If you bring up specific lyrics, he’ll just tell you that it’s open to interpretation, but he discusses the bigger themes of the record.

    Andrew: Hi, Maynard. Where in the world are you at the moment?

    Maynard: I’m in Los Angeles at the moment.

    Are you in rehearsals? What are you doing over there?

    Just working, I’ve got a few things I gotta tidy up before we go on the road.

    Very good. Congratulations on the new album, I’ve spent a reasonable amount of time with it so far, and as someone who has listened to A Perfect Circle since the first album, it’s really pleasing to hear great new music from you guys again.

    Oh, thank you.

    I want to start by asking you about [band co-founder] Billy [Howerdel], a man with whom you’ve had a long and fruitful creative partnership. What do you love about working with Billy?

    He has a freshness. He’s not afraid to throw out ideas, and he’s not afraid to hear me criticise them, or praise them, or adjust them, or move with them. So it’s a great working relationship because there’s no… there’s not a lot of ego. There’s just a lot of work, there’s a lot of to and fro, and listening to each other.

    You have both watched each other evolve as artists, since Billy first showed you some of his songs many years ago, which formed the basis of A Perfect Circle. What have you noticed about how his approach to writing and arranging music has changed during that time?

    I feel like he’s less focused on sounds, ‘cause back in the day, new gear, new toys, new pedals… he seems like he’s a lot more focused on the melody in the song, and the core.

    I’ve read that Billy writes by himself to get a song “to a place where I’m not embarrassed by it anymore, then present it. And then usually Maynard writes to it.” What do you find appealing about this method of working?

    Well, provided he’s open to it shifting from there, it basically comes down to the core melody. Because he’s really good at that, coming up with the melodies, I tend to strip it down to that. [laughs] Poor guy. He puts all this work into all those layers of stuff, and I start muting things. But at the end of the day, he did it right to begin with, he just was second guessing, and adding things. But it’s better you have a guy who cares, than a guy who doesn’t, right?

    Definitely. This is your first album recorded with Jeff Friedl and Matt McJunkins in the band. What do they bring to the table that helped with writing and recording Eat The Elephant?

    I just like those guys. It’s a good working relationship with them. We’ve been touring with them, with Puscifer and with A Perfect Circle for years now. They’re just a good, solid rhythm section, live. Any ideas and adjustments you have for Jeff, he’s such a seasoned player, he understands and can execute, so it’s great.

    You’ve played with some fairly monstrous rhythm sections during your career. Where do you place Jeff and Matt, in that sense?

    Oh, I wouldn’t. I think they stand on their own, in their own way. I would never dare compare all those people. They all bring their different flavours to the table. It’s been an honour to work with all of ‘em.

    I read that you wrote three songs [from Eat The Elephant] around Christmas time, during a particularly productive 36 hours. I wondered: what are you like to be around when you’re in that kind of writing headspace?

    I’m not sure that that’s accurate, but we’ll go with it. In general when you’re writing, it comes in all flavours. You’re gonna have some things that come easy; there’s gonna be some things that take a little more effort, and more focus. It’s really inspiring when you have a moment where something comes together within 24 or 48 hours in a way that you don’t have to go back and meddle with. The trick is to have a few people around you that have a little bit more perspective. I think that’s the hard part: being able to walk away and trusting that it’s done. A painter who’s not willing to put the paintbrush down, that’s the hardest part of painting. Put the brush down; walk away.

    Well, that detail of the three songs, which were The Contrarian, Disillusioned and Eat the Elephant: I took that detail from a Kerrang article, I think, that said you wrote them all quite quickly. Did you want to clarify what the actual time period was?

    Um, you know, 36 hours is a rough guessestimate. It could have been 72; it could have been 12. But it was a short period of time, comparatively.

    That idea of knowing when to put down the paintbrush: do you think you’ve gotten better at knowing when a song is done, as you’ve written more songs?

    No, I think that’s always going to be a struggle, knowing when to stop. I would imagine that you get better at it, but I still feel like it’s a hard thing to do. One of the hardest things to do.

    Has writing lyrics always been a purely solitary activity for you?

    Not necessarily. I think to really hone it in, you definitely need a quiet space to do that. I’m sure when you’re writing an article, you don’t like to do it in the middle of a busy room. You definitely need to go in an office, or your room, or somewhere there’s no distractions. It’s no different. Having a little bit of focus always helps to get those things to go forward.

    Do you find that lyrical ideas ever come to you prior to hearing any music, or do you strictly let the music itself inform the subject matter?

    The melodies and the rhythms inform the syllables, the cadence. So the song itself, the core element of the song is going to dictate where the melody goes. And then I try to figure out what that melody suggests. And then find a keyword, and build on it.

    In that sense, how important are song titles to you? Do they come early or late in the process, generally?

    Both, as in a song could have the song title first; that dictates most of where things go, or a particular word doesn’t really fit in the song, but it is the core of the song, so it has to become the title, otherwise there’s no place to put it. And without it, you might be lost.

    This album has what I think must be the longest song title… or maybe not.

    Oh, there’s longer.

    I’m thinking of the Fish title. [So Long, And Thanks For All The Fish]… although you’ve got the Counting Bodies Like Sheep… title as well. Was that an easy decision to make, to name a song such a lengthy phrase?

    Yeah, I mean, there was definitely a specific reason, but I think it’s kind of contained within. Always breadcrumbs, right?

    When writing lyrics, are you open to spontaneity and unexpected inspiration, or do you have a one-track mind once you decide what a song means to you?

    All of those things. If you have a one-track mind, and it’s not working, you better change that, or it’s not gonna work out. But if you have an idea and you want to try to fight through it, because you feel like it’s worthy of fighting through, take it as far as you can. If you can’t, then: abandon ship.

    I believe you’re fond of driving while listening to instrumental mixes, then pulling over to write lyrics as the ideas come to you. Is that correct?

    Depending on the situation, yeah, I’ve been known to take long drives, or just sit in the car, or just sit with the headphones on in the cellar. I put music on while I’m working on the barrels. Usually it’s just those unconscious moments help, where it’s just on; you’re not thinking about it.

    How long has that approach of driving while listening to mixes been a part of your writing process?

    Forever. The drive can be metaphorical; it might just be a long walk, on a plane. Those quiet moments.

    How conscious are you of the audience in those moments, when you’re writing by yourself somewhere? Do you ever give a thought to what will sound cool when thousands of people sing along to your lyrics at a concert?

    Never. No. The song comes first; you just have to worry about the structure and rhythms of the song, and if it’s translating. Then it’s up to somebody else as to whether they feel that I’m successful in it, after the fact. If I feel like I’ve completed the mission and gotten the point across, then I’m happy. But it’s never about what jumpsuit I’m gonna wear for what song. No, never.

    Fair enough. Do you recall which song from the new album you found it hardest to write to?

    There’s always one, right? Just the simple math, there’s gonna be one that’s harder than the rest. But I can’t off the top of my head think of which one that would be. Not at the moment, yeah. I’m drawing a blank.

    Well, to put it another way, then. Do you recall which song went through the most revisions from the time that Billy initially sent the musical idea to you?

    Oh, jeez. All of them. Yeah, they all evolve so much. Then we go down blind alleys, turn around and come back. Yeah, I don’t know. They all go through so many changes, and those changes can be quick, it might be like we mentioned; it could be that the music went through a million changes and all of a sudden, the lyrics came almost overnight, once it was settled.

    You’re unique as a lyricist in that sense that you juggle writing for three different, popular bands. Do you have any personal rules or criteria that you use to determine whether a thought or idea would be best expressed through each of these outlets, and not the others?

    No, never. It’s all about the music. It’s all about conversations. The way you speak to your mother is far different than the way you speak to your college roommate, or a bartender, or the mailman. You just honour those conversations that are in front of you; those subject matters, that music, it’ll all take that direction.

    Have you ever found a situation where a lyrical idea initially felt at home with one of those projects, but ended up being published in another context?

    Not usually, no.

    Thinking of the new album again, is there a song where you’re particularly proud of your vocal performance?

    I don’t know about ‘proud’. You know, pride comes before the fall. Am I happy with what we achieved? Yeah, I think we hit the mark on some of the intended approaches. I think the things that I’ve learned in every project have preceded the next. Every album, every EP, you just learn as you’re going. You learn different approaches, and I think it kind of keeps you fresh. If you just assume you’re starting over, and yet you’re still drawing on some experience.

    What about The Contrarian? That one stands out to me, because you’re reaching for some tones and hitting notes I’ve never heard you sing before.

    Guess you haven’t heard Puscifer, then.

    No, I certainly have.

    A bunch of that stuff you might think is Carina, that’s actually me.

    Oh, shit. Okay. I might have to go back and re-listen, then.

    Ah huh.

    Thank you for that. I’m particularly fond of your vocals on Delicious. That one seems like it’ll be pretty fun to perform live, right?

    Yeah, I think there’s a lot of those are gonna lend themselves to live performance. I think a lot of ‘em are going to be more difficult to pull off, but I think the ones that are most difficult to pull off live are probably going to be the most compelling, I would think. Just because if you can pull it off in a live setting, and it resonates in a way that you’re not used to hearing in a live setting, that can be more powerful than an obvious rocker.

    Your voice is heavily treated with effects in Hourglass, which I can’t recall happening on too many other songs with A Perfect Circle – correct me if I’m wrong. What inspired this decision, to warp your voice like that?

    That’s what the song called for. Again, you just have to be open to what you’re hearing, and make sure you’re honouring it, in a way, right?

    I read an interview with Billy from 2013 where he said that he considers By And Down The River to be one of his top three or top five A Perfect Circle songs. Would you agree with that?

    [laughs] I don’t know. Yeah, if that’s how he feels about it. A lot of times, that’s just because it’s a new thing you’ve done, and you’re excited about it, so it feels like the best thing you’ve done. But I think they all have their merits. Again, what were the goals? What ideas were you trying to express? I always kind of look it that way: what was the puzzle? Did I achieve my goal for this particular puzzle? If the answer’s ‘yes’, then it’s as important as any other puzzle I’ve solved, or supposedly solved.

    Have you always thought about your work in that sense of puzzles, or is that a new idea?

    No, it’s always been puzzles. It’s always been, there’s a melody, and there’s an idea, and I gotta figure out how to match up a conversation to yourself, to somebody else, to a group of people and match it up to that energy. How do you do that? What words do you use? What words don’t you use? How do you accurately tell that story, so that it maps out an emotional path for you, that you can retrace. All those puzzles are important to pay attention to.

    Well then, looking back at A Perfect Circle’s catalogue, what do you think the first album represents, in terms of puzzle?

    Oh, I would never, I would never, I would never discuss that. That’s up to you. For me, that’s a personal puzzle. I’ve solved it. Your experiences with it, that might be a completely different experience. I would never, never want to rob you of that experience, whatever it is that you’re having. To map it out too much… I feel like nowadays, with the big blockbuster movies, the whole movie’s in the trailer, and you just go for the popcorn, I guess. I don’t know. But I would never, I would never want to take that away from you. I don’t like previews.

    Me either. Especially with something I’m going to see, like the new Star Wars. Why the fuck do I need to see a trailer? I’m going to be there. Don’t spoil anything for me.

    Yeah, I mean that was the beauty of seeing [the film] Three Billboards [Outside Ebbing, Missouri]. I didn’t know anything about it. I walked into the theatre, I saw the names Frances McDormand and Sam Rockwell, and I just dove in. I didn’t care; I just wanted to see what those artists and those masters were going to do. And I had no idea what I was walking into. It blew me away.

    I’m very mindful of what you said about not wanting to unpack the puzzle, as it were, and that was an impertinent question. Apologies for trying to…

    Oh, you’re fine. I get it.

    I wasn’t trying to get you to answer any long-standing riddles, or any shit like that.

    Oh, no no. But those things come up, and depending on how you ask them, I can derail it. It’s fine. [laughs]

    Yes, you’re a professional in that sense.

    [laughs]

    I was thinking of Thirteenth Step in particular, because that one had a thematic thread in that twelve songs, twelve steps, and all that kind of thing. Maybe that puzzle was more easily accessible to the average listener than the others.

    I think there were puzzles on it that weren’t understood. I think if you look at that album in general, it’s almost like when you look at a cast of characters. Everybody has their role, everybody has their lines and their personality, and you wouldn’t have a decent movie with an arc, or some conflict and resolution, without some contrary steps, and contrary people opposing each other, or not understanding each other. And I think Thirteenth Step, a lot of the songs are sung from and written from various perspectives. They’re people who don’t understand each other. They’re not all from one perspective, and they’re not necessarily… when they seem to be pointing the finger, it might be a song about a person who points fingers, and who’s doing it without compassion.

    So a lot of my stuff is that. It’s not necessarily sung from the perspective of me preaching this position. It might be me taking the role of a person who doesn’t understand, in order to bring you a full, balanced cast.

    I guess that’s something that’s often overlooked and mistaken by casual listeners, who tend to assume that songwriters are always from their own perspective. That must be a bit frustrating to be misinterpreted in that sense.

    I mean, it’s only frustrating if you explain it, and they just look at you like you’ve just tried to sell ‘em a fart. That’s the only… if they don’t get it, if they’re just too dumb to get it, that’s rare. There are some dummies in the universe. We elected one. Oh shit, did I go there? But generally speaking, people get it. Once you explain it, they go ‘Okay, I see’. So I’m rarely frustrated in that way. It takes explaining, I guess, but I don’t like to explain too much of that, ‘cause again, I don’t want to rob the experience.

    I suppose that probably comes out of your own being a fan of music. You probably didn’t expect David Bowie and Joni Mitchell to explain their art. You just took from it…

    Never, no. I would imagine half the stuff that… when Joni starts talking about music, my eyes glass over, ‘cause she’s an incredibly intelligent crazy person. So you want to avoid having her explain the songs, ’cause they’re beautiful just like they are. There are definitely some deeper nuances to them, but I don’t need to know the math.

    Well, sticking with that idea of Billy’s top three songs, would you be so bold as to suggest any of your particular favourites? Or you don’t think in those terms, when it comes to A Perfect Circle.

    Yeah, I couldn’t really comment. Again, they were all a particular puzzle, and maybe there have been some in hindsight that I thought that I’d solved, in a way, but didn’t. I think there’s some that I think are beautiful, in that I can’t do them anymore. They were written for a person with a 27 year-old throat, not a person with a 53 year-old throat. So some of those songs are, in a way, they’re kind of a time machine song. I think it’s important for an artist to evolve and grow, especially because your body changes. Not just your perspective, your experiences, but I think it’s important to pay attention to that. The idea of hopping around on stage like you’re 22, at the age of 53, is kind of… pathetic? I don’t know.

    Well, you’ll be going on tour in a few weeks. Sticking with that idea of the throat, how has your approach to live performance changed as you’ve gotten older?

    Oh, you understand that you have a perishable instrument. So you have to pay attention to it, and respect it. I think had I respected it a few years earlier, there might be some flexibility in it, that I used to have. But singing incorrectly, incorrect diet, shitty sleep, not enough water, all those things you just take for granted as a kid, you know? But that’s the nature of youth, isn’t it? Frivolous.

    Well, maybe with that idea of songs you can’t perform anymore: I note that Judith has been absent from the setlist for quite a few years. Is that because the band is uninterested in playing it, or because it’s hard to sing?

    My mom asked me not to.

    Fair enough. I mean, you can’t possibly give a better answer than that, so thanks very much.

    Yeah. Mom knows best.

    I went back and watched the video for Judith, which I think remains one of the strongest debut music videos I’ve ever seen. And in that clip, the faces of the band members were only show in fleeting glimpses, and it’s interesting to compare it to the recent video for The Doomed, which consists of nothing but shots of your five faces. Was this a conscious decision by you and the band, to draw a parallel between those two videos? Or am I reading into it too much?

    Oh, you’re probably reading into it, but again, I don’t want to rob you of that experience. If that’s how you feel, that that’s the approach, I’d love to take for credit for something like that. I’m cool with it. [laughs]

    You’re clearly fond of both making music and making wine. Do they both give you a similar sense of pleasure and satisfaction, or do you think of them rather differently?

    I think there’s quite a bit of grounding that comes with both. I think there’s a little more… there’s a little bit of humility moreso in wine making, because Mother Nature doesn’t really give a fuck about your plans. So you’re definitely having to adjust and readjust when it comes to the wine making. I think there’s more similarities for me than there are differences, just because of my approach to taking what’s there in front of you and working with it, and working around it; working with it, massaging it, highlighting what’s there, rather than trying to force your will.

    Finally, Maynard, thinking about your broader career: is there anything strange or unexpected that has come out of dedicating your life to music?

    I think that’s just not the way I’m wired. I guess the fan thing is always odd to me. I’m just trying to find my way, and for you to elevate somebody who’s not necessarily social; not necessarily figured it out – that seems odd to me. My father and my mother both taught me some level of humility. I think it’s important, but I do also acknowledge that there’s an embrace… We’re a society that embraces spectacle, in a way. We just don’t know any better, and we elevate people beyond their human limitations, and expect more of them than they can actually deliver. And if they are truly broken, they gobble it up, and act holier, I guess.

    I don’t think of myself like that. I’m often disappointed when people do that, and then they read the disappointment as being holier-than; no, that’s not what I’m saying [laughs] I don’t understand why you would need an autograph, or a photograph, or any of those things. If you want it from me, walk across the hall or across restaurant, across the wherever to a complete stranger and ask them for an autograph, and a photograph, to see how they react to that request. Their reaction is probably my reaction: like, why? That’s weird. Who are you? What do you want?

    Well, it was a pleasure to speak with you. Best of luck with the tour, and have a great year.

    Thank you, sir.

    ++

    Further reading: my first interview with Maynard, in late 2010 ahead of Tool headlining the 2011 Big Day Out.

    Further reading: my second interview with Maynard, in late 2012 ahead of Puscifer’s 2013 Australian tour.

  • Shorthand story: ‘The Making of England v Australia’, July 2013

    A story for Shorthand, a Brisbane-based digital technology company. Excerpt below; click the image to read the full story.

    The Making of ‘England v Australia’

    The Making of 'England v Australia' by Andrew McMillen for Shorthand, July 2013

    The first project released by Australian digital publishing company Shorthand details one of sport’s ultimate rivalries, yet ironically, it only came to fruition after partnering with an iconic British media outlet which recently launched down under. In collaboration with the Guardian Australia, ‘England v Australia’ is a long-form interactive story that traces the history of the the two countries’ ongoing contest, which spans generations, oceans and sporting codes.

    “We wanted to develop a tool that would be used by the publishing industry,” says Shorthand executive manager Ben Fogarty. “And what better way to find out what it needs to become than working with someone like the Guardian, with their experience and their approach to storytelling, news and features? It was a great opportunity to get straight into the thick of it with a very well-known, professional organisation, and see how and where Shorthand fits into that scenario.”

    The Brisbane-based start-up was founded in March 2013 in recognition of a problem that had emerged in online journalism: how could publishers tell ‘epic’ stories without the requisite eye-popping budgets, labour-intensive web development, and months of lead time?

    In short: how to craft an interactive masterpiece like ‘Snow Fall’ without breaking the bank each and every time? The start-up saw a gap in the market to provide a high-quality, affordable platform for digital storytellers. Although Shorthand’s goal was clear, the team still had many unanswered questions.

    “‘England v Australia’ helped us define our scope very well,” says Fogarty. “We had a big question around where the content was going to come from, and how digital storytelling is crafted. Do you start with media and put text around it? Do you grab text and find the media to go with it? Being part of that process from an early stage with the Guardian Australia has helped shape in our minds how to create the product features that’d work best for telling these sorts of stories for the web.”

    To read the full story – and get a better idea of the tool that the company is developing – visit Shorthand’s website.

  • The Vine interview: Maynard James Keenan of Puscifer, December 2012

    An interview with Maynard James Keenan for The Vine. Excerpt below.

    Interview – Maynard James Keenan of Puscifer: “You can’t please everybody”

    Don’t ask about Tool. Don’t ask about A Perfect Circle. Definitely don’t ask when Tool’s next album – their first since 2006’s 10,000 Days – is due. These are the publicist-stated rules of engagement when interviewing Maynard James Keenan, frontman of those two bands and also Puscifer, a “multimedia project” that encompasses music, film, performance, wine and clothing, and has released two albums so far: 2007’s V Is For Vagina and 2011’s Conditions Of My Parole. Keenan is touring the Puscifer show outside of North America for the first time in February 2013, with three Australian theatre shows booked around his commitments with A Perfect Circle at Soundwave Festival.

    These interview restrictions open up lines of questioning largely outside of Keenan’s music, which has enthralled millions of hard rock fans since Tool’s first LP, Undertow, was released nearly 20 years ago. The singer owns and operates Merkin Vineyards and Caduceus Cellars in Arizona, where he’s lived for 17 years. Winemaking would be a gimmick – a distraction from his enormously popular musical outlets – if only Keenan wasn’t so damn serious about it. Multi-million dollar start-up costs aside, the business was built with a view to be sustainable, and Keenan says he has met this goal. A remarkable achievement, considering that Arizona had no wine reputation to speak of prior to Keenan’s involvement. Such is the pulling power of the man, perhaps, but it also helps that the wine is fantastic.

    Hello Maynard. Where are you calling from?

    The bunker. [At the Caduceus winery]

    Australia was the first country to import your wine: I’ve met the two guys behind [Caduceus wine importers] Sip & Listen here in Brisbane. I’m guessing that exporting was always on your list of goals, but were you surprised the Australian opportunity came up as soon as it did?

    I guess so. We don’t really have a lot of volume, so that we had enough to actually export was a surprise. It was good timing; we had a little extra.

    Australians will also be the first outside of North America to see Puscifer tour. Why is that? 

    The opportunity came up. It’s a tough project to get out of the country because of all the extra stuff we put into the performance. It had to be the right scenario, the right situation for us to be able to afford to do it.

    You said in [2010 documentary] Blood Into Wine that touring becomes more gruelling on your body as you get older. How do you take care of yourself, and your voice, while on the road these days?

    Just like anybody else would: just pace yourself, get good sleep.

    Is that different to what you were doing when you were touring in your 20s and 30s?

    Well, you know, back then you have a little more resilience, and you can kinda push it a little harder, move a little faster. You don’t necessarily have to pay attention to maintenance much.

    I get the impression that all of your musical output these days – touring, releasing music – is done primarily to fund your wine business. Am I way off the mark?

    Hmm… no. I think the touring is just because we like to play music and we like to perform. The wine business – it takes care of itself. Of course, there’s a lot of initial investment, from prior touring. I used a lot of that money to get it going, but that was instead of buying a Ferrari.

    So after the initial start-up cost, the ongoing costs aren’t so great?

    Yeah, I mean, it’s barely paying for itself, but it is sustaining itself. The point of even doing it was to establish a sustainable endeavour.

    Do you feel that reorganising your life around the wine business has had a positive effect on your art so far? 

    I would think so, yeah. It’s in tune with where I am. So if your art is, in theory, you expressing your take on the world, or your place in it, or your interaction with it, then I guess, yeah, it’s more in tune.

    Do you find it freeing to create music around the wine season, or restrictive?

    I haven’t really found anything that was restrictive. I kinda schedule things as I schedule ‘em. There’s a timing involved with harvest, so a lot of stuff has to take a backseat during that period of time, but it’s not like I’m writing every day.

    Which is more satisfying: completing a recording session, or finishing a wine harvest?

    I think they both stroke you in a different spot.

    For the full interview, visit The Vine.

    Further reading: my first interview with Maynard, in late 2010 ahead of Tool headlining the 2011 Big Day Out.

  • Brisbane Times story: ‘Tools of fine wine: Maynard James Keenan’s wine hits Australia’, May 2012

    A story for Brisbane Times, which is republished below in its entirety.

    Tools of fine wine

    It sounds like a set-up to a bad joke. What happens when you combine Californian progressive metal band Tool, a couple of entrepreneurial Brisbane men in their mid-30s, and wine made high in the Arizona desert?

    While the punchline mightn’t make you laugh, the fruit of their labour is likely to prick your tastebuds. This weekend, Brisbane locals Matt Irwin and Trent Allen will conduct the first public tasting event for their wine import company, sip&listen. The pair has imported more than 5000 bottles directly from Tool singer Maynard James Keenan’s Arizona Stronghold Vineyards.

    Keenan’s deal with sip&listen marks the first time these wines have been exported outside of North America. The germ of the idea came about when Irwin, who has worked in the Canadian wine industry for the last five years, played host to his long-time friend Allen on an annual ski trip to Alberta in early 2011.

    “I’d saved this one bottle of [2006 red wine] Chupacabra for Trent, because I knew he was a massive music guy,” Irwin says.

    “We put [the Tool album] Salival on the stereo, downed the bottle together, and the ideas just started flowing. Trent said to me, ‘there’s no reason why this isn’t in Australia. This is amazing wine, there’s a great story – why don’t we do it?’ I said, ‘you’re out of your mind! There’s got to be a reason why this wine hasn’t come to Australia yet. Why is it going to come through two dudes like us?’.”

    A couple of days before Allen flew to Canada, Irwin set his friend some homework.

    “Matt told me to track down this documentary called Blood Into Wine,” Allen says.

    “It hasn’t been released in Australia yet, so I found a really terrible internet stream, which was buffering every 30 seconds, and watched it. It’s an amazing story, and a fantastic film.”

    The 2010 documentary follows the tumultuous first years of Keenan’s venture into the vineyard alongside his winemaking mentor, Eric Glomski [both pictured above].

    “We’re doing everything we can to try and secure an Australian release, because after anyone watches it, the first thing they want to do is grab a bottle of the wine,” Allen says.

    The day after consuming that life-changing bottle of Chupacabra, the two friends sat down and soberly nutted out a business plan. Irwin made the initial approach to Arizona Stronghold; national sales manager Paula Woolsey received his email. Her first priority was to ascertain that the two Australians weren’t simply Tool fanboys trying to sneak a meeting with the notoriously private Keenan.

    “That kind of thing comes with the territory,” Woolsey tells brisbanetimes.com.au. “It’s my job to whittle out the extreme ‘stalker fans’. The point is to sell wine from Arizona, not ‘Tool wine’. Maynard does not mix wine with Tool; he is a member of Tool, but it is not his band.”

    (Woolsey points out that, when Keenan is touring with his side project band Puscifer, “we do the wine thing all over the place: on stage, before the show, during the show!”)

    Woolsey had a three-month dialogue with Irwin before she allowed sip&listen to take the first shipment of 5000 bottles.

    “Having been in the wine business for over 20 years, I can honestly say that Australia has always held a special place in my wine heart,” Woolsey says.

    “We are all up [to date] on the trials and tribulations of the Aussie wine market; from too many vines in the ground and animal labels, to droughts and lost market share. All wine markets run in cycles.”

    Keenan, who has performed with the multi-platinum selling Tool since 1990 and last toured here in January 2011 as Big Day Out headliner, has been quietly working away at winemaking in Arizona since the mid-2000s.

    The region isn’t exactly renowned for its grape fertility; the Stronghold’s business motto reads, “Redefining the desert with high elevation wine”.

    True to his evasive reputation, the sip&listen pair have had little direct contact with the singer.

    “He’s so busy with all of his other projects,” Irwin says.

    “He signed off on it around a month into the process. We got an email from him saying, ‘Let’s do it. I love Australia, let’s move ahead with this’. But from that point onwards, he’s left it with his team in Arizona to manage his business.”

    Allen is by far the bigger fan, having seen Tool perform live 10 times throughout the world, including at a bullring in Madrid in 2006.

    Irwin is less enthusiastic: “I am a fan, but it really was the wine that spoke to me,” he says.

    “It’s really, really good juice.”

    Their VIP tasting event will take place at Wine Experience in Rosalie on Sunday 27 May 2012.

    The $170 cost includes four Arizona Stronghold wines: Tazi (white), Dayden (rosé), Nachise (red), and the 2006 Chupacabra which set the wheels in motion last year.

    As the business name indicates, sip&listen are intent on marrying the wine-tasting experience with music, Tool or otherwise.

    “We’ve always seen that beer and music goes together; all the beer and spirit companies promote concerts, festivals or clubs,” Irwin says.

    “Wine’s never been taken to that degree, because so many people have made it into an ‘exclusive’ drink. ‘Oh, you don’t like that wine? You mustn’t understand it.’ Wine’s been taken to a level that isn’t inclusive of people.”

    “We’re hoping to turn that around,” he says, “so that it’s not a bad thing to stand in front of a live band with a glass of wine in your hand.”

    For more on sip&listen, visit their website. The trailer for the Blood Into Wine documentary is embedded below.

    Elsewhere: I interviewed Maynard James Keenan in late 2010 ahead of Tool headlining the national Big Day Out tour.

  • Junior ‘issues’ story: ‘Music Photography: First Three Songs, No Flash – And No Copyright’, July 2011

    A feature story for the ‘issues’ section of monthly street press Junior, July 2011. It’s an updated version of a feature that originally appeared on TheVine.com.au.

    Click the below image for a closer look, or read the article text underneath.

    Music photography: First three songs, no flash – and no copyright

    Earlier this year, Iron Maiden – the most recent headliners of the national Soundwave Festival – brought more than just a custom-built stage, hundreds of guitar solos and an enormous British flag. As Junior photographer Cameron Edney discovered on the day, they were also the only Soundwave performing artist to present a customised photography contract.

    “It was pretty tight,” Edney says. “Their contract stated that they wanted shooters [photographers] to send the best shots via mail to London for approval. Once the band’s management had looked over the shots put forward, they would contact us to let us know what shots we could use. They also wanted a minimum of 30 days to do this.”

    Such rights-grabbing statements are nothing new in the live entertainment business, where artists’ images and ‘trade secrets’ have always been fiercely protected. Eddie Van Halen was known to turn his back to the audience when performing innovative electric guitar solos before Van Halen were signed, so as to prevent both his newly-discovered techniques from being viewed by rival guitarists – as well as being captured by keen-eyed music photographers.

    Recent Australian tours by popular rock acts like The Smashing Pumpkins and Muse have demanded that photographers shoot only from the sound desk. Muse, too, issued a contract which states that photographers “hereby assign full title guarantee the entire worldwide right, title and interest in and to the Photographs, including the copyright therein”.

    Which means that if Muse – or, more likely, their management and/or lawyers – happen to be browsing your live photo portfolio and they’re particularly taken by a picture of bassist Christopher Wolstenholme in his fetching red suit, they can request the high resolution image file (or negative), and you have no power to negotiate because you’re bound by a contract.

    Why, then, in an age where the vast majority of gig-goers carry web-ready media devices in their pockets, are bands still so insistent on attempting to shield themselves from the close scrutiny of cameras? Recent news reports even suggest that Apple is developing software capable of disabling the iPhone camera whenever a punter tries to film a gig, via clever infrared sensors installed at venues. Though live footage and still images may fall under different arms of copyright law, one wonders: are such heavy-handed measures really necessary?

    British-born, Australia-based Tony Mott has been photographing musicians across the world for over 30 years. He’s been the Big Day Out’s official photographer since the festival’s 1992 inception; his work has appeared on the cover of just about every music and news-related publication imaginable. When it comes to photo contracts, though, his approach is blunt: “I don’t read them, and I never do.”

    Mott says he’s never had any legal trouble as a result of signing contracts in this effectively sight-unseen manner. “Not one single person has come back to me and told me that I’ve been doing the wrong thing. I sell [photos] to music magazines. That’s it. That’s all anyone’s doing with them. I mean, if you started making posters and merchandise [with your photos of the artist], I think you would get into trouble.”

    According to Matt Palmer, a Brisbane-based photographer, “You get treated like a bit of a bastard with these contracts. The reality is, you’re there as a fan, and as a photographer, you’re trying to take the best photos you can of a band. So it’s a bit weak to be presented with these contracts when you’re actually trying to help them out.”

    Sydney-based photographer Daniel Boud notes that two bands that don’t treat photographers like bastards, however, are also two of the biggest in the world: AC/DC and U2. Both acts toured Australia last year.

    “It says a lot that, for two of the bands whose fans are so rabid that you might actually be able to sell the photos for commercial gain, neither act even bothers with having photos contracts,” says Boud. “They’re also two artists that, when you shoot them, their tour managers and publicists are incredibly nice and welcoming to photographers. They thanked us for coming. Whereas a lot of the time, concert promoters make you feel like you’re a pain in the arse to them.”

    It’s a tough line to tread, between respecting the rights of the artist and satisfying both professional photographers and the average punter holding their iPhone aloft. Though their hardware varies, they both want to capture the moment for posterity.

    Junior’s Cameron Edney admits that such contracts “can be a joke; the demands can be laughable, but for the most part, it’s expected. It’s part of the job, and if you get into this side of the business and want to shoot live music, you have to be prepared to sign release forms. If you don’t, you may lose out on shooting bands you really want to cover. Just like any job, music photography has its own disadvantages.”

    Andrew McMillen (andrewmcmillen.com/) is a Brisbane-based freelance journalist and Junior writer. This piece originally appeared on TheVine.com.au; we asked him to update it for Junior. This is his second story for our ‘issues’ series; his first was on ticket scalping. Read the whole series at junioronline.com.au

  • The Vine story: ‘First Three Songs, No Flash – And No Copyright’, March 2011

    A feature article for The Vine. Excerpt below.

    First Three Songs, No Flash – And No Copyright

    Andrew McMillen inspects the contracts and copyright law related to recent Australian tours by Big Day Out artists Tool and Rammstein.

    (Main pic: Slash vs Photographers at Soundwave, Adelade 2011 by Andrew Stace)

    As the 2011 Big Day Out tour wound itself across the country this year – it ended in Perth on Sunday, Feb 6 – hundreds of professional photographers snapped portraits of an artist line-up that included Californian hard rock act Tool and German industrial metal troupe Rammstein.

    These two bands were the heaviest-hitting acts on the tour. Yet their photo release forms also revealed that they were the bands most protective of their image. “All copyrights and other intellectual property rights shall be entirely Artist’s property,” read a line from Tool’s contract, which photographers wishing to capture the band from the front-of-stage photo pit were required to sign. “[The photographer] is prohibited from placing the photos in the so-called online media, and/or distributing them using these media,” stated Rammstein’s decidedly archaic contract, which concludes with an apparently self-defeating line about being subject to the laws of Germany.

    Such rights-grabbing statements are nothing new in the live entertainment business, where artists’ images and ‘trade secrets’ have always been fiercely protected. Eddie Van Halen was known to turn his back to the audience when performing innovative electric guitar solos before Van Halen were signed, so as to prevent both his newly-discovered techniques from being viewed by rival guitarists – or being captured by keen-eyed music photographers.

    Recent Australian tours by popular rock acts like The Smashing Pumpkins and Muse have demanded that photographers shoot only from the sound desk; Muse, too, issued a contract which states that photographers “hereby assign full title guarantee the entire worldwide right, title and interest in and to the Photographs, including the copyright therein”. Which means that if Muse (or, more likely, their management or lawyers) happen to be browsing your live photo portfolio and they’re particularly taken by a picture of bassist Christopher Wolstenholme’s fetching red suit, they can request the high resolution image file – or negative – free of charge. You have no power to negotiate because you’re bound by a contract.

    Why, then, in an age where the vast majority of gig-goers carry web-ready media devices in their pockets, are bands still so insistent on attempting to shield themselves from the close scrutiny of professional cameras? And are these contracts even legally binding, or simply attempts to scare newbie photographers into surrendering their hard work – with zero additional compensation on top of their publication’s one-time print fees?

    For the full article, visit The Vine.

  • The Vine live review: ‘Tool at the Brisbane Entertainment Centre’, January 2011

    A live review for The Vine. Excerpt below.

    Tool
    Brisbane Entertainment Centre
    Monday 24 January 2011

    First, a confession: I am guilty of taking Tool too seriously. Throughout my adolescence, they were my one and only; my idea of modern music’s apex. I took the ride, I swallowed the pill. I bought the shirts. I’ve listened to Tool’s music more than that of any other band. Theirs was the first proper live show I saw, in 2002, aged 14. It blew my tiny mind.

    So it’s with a continuous sense of melancholy that I look upon tonight’s proceedings, and with fresh eyes and broader musical experiences, realise that there’s not a whole lot about Tool that’s remarkable. Having bought into their idea of reality – the anti-image, the mystique, the overwrought psychoanalytical component of it all – so heavily in my formative years, to step back into their world is to question past allegiances. Theirs is a musical rabbit hole deeper than most bands are able to conceive, let alone dig; sift through the smoke and smug, though, and you’re left with a handful of unwieldy hard rock songs that mean a lot to a lot of people.

    The band play ten songs in nearly two hours, beginning with the last track from 1996’s Aenima and ending with the same album’s first track. Timothy Leary’s“Think for yourself, question authority” spiel resonates around the room at the beginning of ‘Third Eye’, a 15 minute-long trek through some of Tool’s weightiest subject matter, and heaviest musicianship. It’s intended to be an eye-opening beginning, no doubt, and it succeeds: yellow lights flash into the audience during the song’s chorus-of-sorts (“In / Out”, sings Maynard Keenan, over and over), while the screens behind the band swirl with violent colour and movement. It is the longest, and probably most difficult song in their repertoire, comprising many different suites which require complete attention from each player. They nail it, though, and thus set the bar high for the set’s remainder. To their credit, nothing they play tonight is met with anything less than their best, and when they’re in lockstep – as in the thunderous midsection of ‘Jambi’ – they’re pretty much untouchable. Adam Jones’ talkbox guitar solo in this song is one of their most inspired musical decisions. It takes me back to the first time I heard it, having bought the album – 10,000 Days – at a midnight launch in 2006. (Remember when people used to line up to buy music? Jesus.)

    For the full review, visit The Vine.

    I am mainly posting this review because of the amazing comments attached to that article. Please click the above link to read all of them; 30+, at time of publishing this blog. I got this amazing hatemail from a Tool fan in a private message on The Vine, which I just have to share with you verbatim. Thanks to ‘DR-HAZE666’ for the feedback.

    WHITE NOISE! MELANCHOLY? TOOL REVIEW GONE WRONG!!!

    Your review is a Joke my friend….. Good for a laugh, and an exceptional insight to your intelligence & taste in music. But, i guess thats why your a journalist & not a musician. AND THANK GOD FOR THAT!!!

    WHITE NOISE”- For future reference,white noise is the sound an old analog T.V makes when turning it to a channel that has not been tuned in to a particular frequency. You know, like continuously moving sand paper, “SSSSHSHHHHHHHHHH” What u heard was 3 “Access Virus” synth’s, in unison. Being utilised to create a trance like,state of concsiousness, & show casing new CGI art, created by Adam Jones. Leaving the band to have a well earned 5minute breather. Also, adjustments to Danny’s kit were done, snare changes etc, whilst this was happening. And tracks ‘ Jimmy’ & ‘H’ (2 tracks played @ Aenima tour) are well beyond 5 minutes in there duration. Which is gives us another insight to your attention span. But hey, each to there own. I was stoked to hear them play tracks like right in two, & intension, as they haven’t played these tunes in previous tours. And intension did not have ANY sequenced parts at all. THEY PLAY EVERYTHING LIVE!!! Stop with the sweeping assumptions, and do some research you fool!!!

    You just saw the smartest, most innovative rock band of this generation, on the biggest stage & light production they’ve brought out here for any previous tour, and you missed it completely. Congratulations bro!!! You may be only a freelance journalist, but you certainly have the ‘BULLSHITTING’ gift of a professional journalist. And yr another reason why bands such as TOOL, & majority of the rest world, detest the media, and the uneducated opinion’s spread to the “TINY MINDS” of the general public.

    So let me get this right…Your a TOOL nerd that has no appreciation for the composition,musicality & musicianship of “SCHISM”. Your high point of the gig was when Justin wallowed a slightly out of tune vocal part, over the chorus of a song, thats originally by “Peach”. A song that consists of 2, maybe 3 chords and a chorus riff, & travels at a tempo of around 60-BPM. And whilst Adam Jones varied the intro notes of ‘Lateralus’, & into an extended version, that proceeded to a world class drum solo, that is virtually impossible to replicate by almost every other drummer on planet earth, YOU FELT NOTHING??? YOU FELT NOTHING???? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU GET INTO BRO????

    No wonder you had a feeling of melancholy. What you experienced was something similar to say, a 3 year old child, sitting in on a university chemistry lecture.Your in the wrong class buddy!!! The “WOLFMOTHER” workshop is being held down the road, next door to the generic,banality,regurgitation workshop. Put your pen down, and do the world a favour….  kill yourself!!!

    Kind regards.

    Pete.

    Elsewhere: a conversation with Tool frontman, Maynard James Keenan.

  • A Conversation With Maynard James Keenan of Tool, A Perfect Circle, Puscifer, and Caduceus Cellars

    An interview with Maynard James Keenan – vocalist of Tool, A Perfect Circle and Puscifer, and more recently, a winemaker for Caduceus Cellars – conducted for Junior in mid-November 2010, ahead of Tool’s headline appearance on the 2011 Big Day Out tour.

    You can read the Junior cover story based around this interview here.

    At the time we spoke, Maynard was touring with A Perfect Circle for that band’s reformation shows. This is the full transcription of our conversation.

    ++

    Andrew: How are you today?

    Maynard: I’m sick.

    Sick?

    Bit of a head cold or something. I’ve had it for the last seven days.

    In the middle of a tour?

    Yeah, isn’t it great?

    Oh man, I feel bad for you. How have those shows been going for you, besides the sickness?

    They’ve been a struggle. It’s difficult enough to go out and do a regular tour and have the same or similar set, but to do three completely different sets and some of the songs you’ve never played live, and some of them you haven’t played in six or 10 years, and then have a cold on top of it… Jesus, some of these songs I had a difficult time singing 10 years ago, let alone 10 years later and being sick. So it’s definitely been a challenge. I’m up for it, but it’s been a challenge.

    Are you cursing your younger self for his vocal range?

    Yeah, I’m kind of pissed off at myself for having written songs that were pushing the envelope 10 years ago. And when I say pushing the envelope, I mean pushing my range, what I’m capable of. It’s definitely taking a toll.

    Since you’ve had a few years away from that band, are you able to look at those albums with fresh eyes and ears?

    That’s a tough one. I think it’s really difficult to do that, because I’m always going to hear the flaws. All I hear is the production flaws, or what I would have done differently performance-wise, so it’s hard to be objective with those. I never judge them too harshly; they just are what they are.

    I watched Blood Into Wine last night. [trailer embedded below]

    The DVD?

    Yeah. I think it should be compulsory viewing for all Tool and APC fans, new and old, to see where you are right now.

    Uh, how so?

    I’ve followed your work closely for around a decade, and I thought the film gave a great insight into a side of you that I couldn’t have imagined seeing 10 years ago. It seems like you drop your guard more often. Or at least, you’re more willing to entertain the thought.

    Yeah. It wasn’t an easy film to be involved in. It’s hard to have people follow you around with cameras for a year.

    Did you enjoy the process, though?

    Oh, no. I was more concerned about… I wanted to be more concerned about what we were doing in the vineyard, and with the business in general. Building the winery was a lot of work and it was still in its infant stages. But it might not have been as interesting a movie if this was 10 years into the winery already being established. But you know, our chaotic first couple of years probably made the film more interesting.

    Are you able to look at a film like that objectively and judge your past actions?

    No. [laughs] I don’t know.

    Tool’s early identity was defined by this unwillingness to play the same image-driven game that every other band did. Am I right to believe that you’ve moved on a little since then?

    Well, I don’t think that there was a master plan in place, like a manifesto that we came up with that said “we’re not going to do these things”. It might have been that, as individuals and collectively, we were just dysfunctional enough to where we were incapable of playing along. And so it just managed to work in our favour when it could very well have worked against us.

    I think just the timing, and all the stuff that went on with Nirvana at that point in time; I think that opened the doors for A&R people who didn’t have a clue about what they were really getting into. They didn’t understand it. They figured they better sign it, because they didn’t understand Nirvana. “Sign ‘em, hurry up!”, and then look for the next big thing. That just worked in our favour as Tool, because they definitely didn’t understand us. We got to dig our heels in and do what we wanted.

    Did you know what you were doing at that point? All four of you saying “no we’re not going to do that shit, we’re not going to do a bunch of interviews, we’re not going to pose for photos…”

    We just didn’t know how to, so we just said no. We weren’t really sure how it affected us, but we just weren’t capable of saying yes, so we just kept saying no, and it kept working so we just continued to keep saying no.

    These days you say yes to a few more things, maybe not everything. Would you call that maturity or just a realisation that sometimes it’s okay to share some things?

    Yeah, I think once you understand something a little more, then you can discern what makes sense and what doesn’t make sense. I think it’s still difficult for some of us to say yes to anything, because we’re so used to saying no. We just think about it too much and then at some point you start tricking yourself into thinking that you actually knew why you said no. And you have to get involved in everything to dissect it and think about it.

    It’s kind of like when you’re working on your house, or something, and have some kind of inspector coming by to look at what you’ve done. He has to say something is wrong. Otherwise you’re not justifying his existence if he doesn’t find something wrong with what you did. So by presenting the question to a band with them saying ‘no’ all the time, to get their permission. You’ve heard ‘it’s better to ask forgiveness than to ask for permission’?

    Yes.

    Yeah. That’s kind of how, at some point, people are just going to start treating you that way.

    Do you give much thought to why people are interested in Maynard James Keenan?

    No. I just kind of do what I do, and I try my best with whatever I’m doing, but I don’t know if it’s good or not; I just do what I do and people tend to show up for it. I’m thankful for that. I do my part, keep doing things, so at the end of the day I kind of get to stick to what makes sense for you to do, and hopefully at the end of the day you can sleep at night.

    Can you sleep at night, Maynard?

    Oh yeah, absolutely!

    In a similar vein, and a similar question, do you reflect much on your influence as an artist in the last 20 years?

    I don’t… Influence… What do you mean?

    The fact that you’ve inspired singers to sing, performers to perform, musicians to start bands.

    We have?

    I’m sure you have.

    Oh. I don’t know, I just assume people… really?

    Are you playing with me, Maynard?

    No, I – I thought it was a hypothetical.

    No, not at all.

    I have no idea. I guess the answer is no, I haven’t really reflected on that because I haven’t really… That’s nice to know that we’ve inspired people to do stuff.

    To turn the question around, which artists have been influencing and inspiring you recently in a musical sense?

    Well just in the artistic sense, people like Penfolds’ wine. Max Schubert. His dedication to following his heart. People like Lance Armstrong, people like Joni Mitchell, who just do what they do and everybody else be damned. Not that they don’t like people, but they have to do what they do.

    You have that quote at the end of the film [Blood Into Wine] where you say “As artists, it’s our job to observe, interpret, and report.” That seems to read as a kind of mission statement for you. I’m interested to know when and how you decided upon this role of the artist?

    I guess it was more hindsight, when you look back and see what you’ve done and you go, ‘Okay, what the fuck have I been doing?’ You kind of have to fill out an outline of what it is you’re doing and the best explanation I could come up with was between making wine and handmade pasta, and painting and sculpting, and architecture and music. Then you just like look at the thing, digest it, and then re-present it.

    Has your belief in art strengthened over time?

    I don’t know if I understand that statement. Believing in art?

    As an artist, you value art. Has that feeling become stronger?

    If you have any success with your interpretations, the hardest part is staying fresh and not falling into a rut, and thinking that you know all the answers. That somewhat chaotic state, that confused, vulnerable state I think is important to at least have a finger on. You don’t have to beat yourself up, you don’t have to suffer for your art but you definitely have to be a little confused to understand where to move.

    If you’re a chef and you’re trying to use fresh vegetables, the weather is going to affect your menu, and you can’t just rely – if you’re a good chef and you present something that’s alive and vibrant, you have to embrace the fact that it’s not going to be consistent. You have to be able to roll with the changes.

    I watched an interview you did with Patton Oswalt, where he asked you about performing live. You said “It’s safer to act than to really be it anymore.” By that, did you mean you can no longer relate to what you’ve written in the past?

    No, I think I’m not quite sure – is that… that was in the film?

    No, that seemed to be like an outtake from around the same time. It was on YouTube.

    I don’t know. I’d have to see the clip to see in context what we were talking about.

    Fair enough.

    I would answer that but I would need to see it in context to really comment. Sorry. [clip embedded below]

    Sure. For example, what would you get out of performing a song like ‘Stinkfist’ nowadays?

    There’s always something I can improve in it. There’s parts of that song that I never quite get right, so I’m always looking for those spots to see how I can do them better but everything else is… At some point, some of it becomes autopilot. I don’t have to think about those pieces, I feel like I’ve got those down.

    I saw the Smashing Pumpkins recently. It felt like Billy [Corgan] was rushing to get some of his more well-known songs out of the way so he could play the new stuff. Can you relate to that kind of feeling?

    No, no. I mean, especially since James Iha’s not in the band, I can’t really relate to the fact that Smashing Pumpkins are out there.

    I see. Well, since you don’t necessarily have an album to promote this time around, will you be constructing a set list a little different to last time?

    Yeah, I’m hoping. We’re trying to re-present things in a different way, or pick different tracks that people haven’t heard. Which isn’t hard to do, since some of the songs that we perform, most people won’t have been born when we actually wrote them. It’ll be fun, regardless.

    Have you given much thought to the fact that you’re headlining Australia’s biggest national tour, which sold out in record time despite the fact that Tool hasn’t released anything in four years?

    Well in a way, it’s inspiring because it means people are still paying attention to what we’re doing and that’s good. We’ve definitely made a mark.

    I’d agree. I first saw you play live in 2002, when ‘Lateralus’ was really the pivotal moment of the set, where you gave that speech about going out and doing something positive and creating something. I want to ask; what did you get out of that little social experiment, of pausing to ask people to reflect on themselves, to go out there and do something that inspires them?

    Oh, I just took my own advice and started a winery.

    Thanks for your time, Maynard.

    Thank you very much.

    ++

    For more Maynard James Keenan, follow him on Twitter.

     

  • Junior interview: Maynard James Keenan of Tool, December 2010

    The cover story for the Dec 2010-Jan 2011 issue of Junior: an interview with Tool vocalist Maynard James Keenan. Click the below image for a closer look, or read the article text underneath.

    Tool: Pushing The Envelope

    At first glance, Tool might seem an odd choice as a headline act for Australia’s biggest national touring festival.

    However, their level-headed approach to crafting immersive, long-lasting works has resonated with a hard-core of devotees who number in the millions worldwide. Although they’ve not released any new music since 2006’s 10,000 Days – which debuted at #1 on the ARIA charts, and remained in the top 50 for nine months – come January 2011, they’ll close each Big Day Out with a powerful selection of their best material (if their 2007 appearance on the same festival circuit is anything to go by).

    Examining just how and why Tool inspire such passionate devotion among so many progressive metal fans is a topic more suited to a book than a magazine article – and if you’re so inclined, one already exists (2009’s Unleashed: The Story Of Tool, by Joel McIver). A brief summary of the facts, then.

    After forming in Los Angeles in 1990, the quartet established themselves as an act diametrically opposed to the fame game pursued by many of their musical peers. Surprisingly, their preference for anonymity in the golden age of MTV earned them credibility in an era which decidedly lacked such merits. As a result, Tool aren’t the kind of band you can ‘sort of’ like. There’s no such thing as a casual Tool fan.

    With their potent combination of distinctive, heavy instrumentation and singer Maynard James Keenan’s singular voice, they’re perhaps the only rock band who were able to push back against a crumbling record industry and opt for quality over quantity. Including their 1993 debut full-length, Undertow, they’ve released just four studio albums; they’ve also maintained the same line-up, bar one bassist changeover in 1995.

    In mid-November, Junior had a rare opportunity to speak with Tool’s vocalist, Maynard James Keenan. Keenan is also known for holding the microphone in A Perfect Circle (APC), a less threatening – but no less remarkable – American rock act who released three albums between 2000 and 2004. After a five-year hiatus, APC are in the midst of shaking out the cobwebs on a short reformation tour, wherein they performed each of their three LPs in full, on successive nights in four American cities. Keenan is halfway through the short tour when Junior connects with him; we soon discover that the singer is suffering from a cold.

    How have the APC reformation shows been going for you, besides the sickness?

    Maynard: They’ve been a struggle. It’s difficult enough to go out and do a regular tour and have the same or similar set, but to do three completely different sets and some of the songs you’ve never played live, and some of them you haven’t played in six or 10 years, and then have a cold on top of it… Jesus. Some of these songs I had a difficult time singing 10 years ago, let alone 10 years later and being sick. So it’s definitely been a challenge. I’m up for it, but it’s been a challenge.

    Are you cursing your younger self for his vocal range?

    Yeah, I’m kind of pissed off at myself for having written songs that were pushing the envelope 10 years ago. And when I say pushing the envelope, I mean pushing my range, what I’m capable of. It’s definitely taking a toll.

    Since you’ve had a few years away from that band, are you able to look at those albums with fresh eyes and ears?

    That’s a tough one. I think it’s really difficult to do that, because I’m always going to hear the flaws. All I hear is the production flaws, or what I would have done differently performance-wise, so it’s hard to be objective with those. I never judge them too harshly; they just are what they are.

    Tool’s early identity was defined by an unwillingness to play the same image-driven game as every other band. Am I right to believe that you’ve moved on a little since then?

    Well, I don’t think that there was a master plan in place, like a manifesto that we came up with that said “we’re not going to do these things”. It might have been that, as individuals and collectively, we were just dysfunctional enough to where we were incapable of playing along. And so it just managed to work in our favour when it could very well have worked against us. The timing, and all the stuff that went on with Nirvana at that point in time; I think that opened the doors for A&R people who didn’t have a clue about what they were really getting into. They didn’t understand it. They figured they better sign it, because they didn’t understand Nirvana. ‘Sign ‘em, hurry up!’ – and then look for the next big thing. That just worked in our favour as Tool, because they definitely didn’t understand us. We got to dig our heels in and do what we wanted.

    Did you know what you were doing at that point? All four of you saying “no we’re not going to do that shit, we’re not going to do a bunch of interviews, we’re not going to pose for photos…”

    We just didn’t know how to [do it], so we just said ‘no’. We weren’t really sure how it affected us, but we just weren’t capable of saying ‘yes’, so we just kept saying ‘no’, and it kept working so we just continued to keep saying ‘no’.

    These days you say ‘yes’ to a few more things, though maybe not everything. Would you call that maturity, or just a realisation that sometimes it’s okay to share some things?

    I think once you understand something a little more, then you can discern what makes sense and what doesn’t make sense. I think it’s still difficult for some of us to say ‘yes’ to anything, because we’re so used to saying ‘no’. We just think about it too much and then at some point you start tricking yourself into thinking that you actually knew why you said ‘no’. And you have to get involved in everything to dissect it and think about it. It’s kind of like when you’re working on your house or something and have some kind of inspector coming by to look at what you’ve done. He has to say something is wrong. Otherwise you’re not justifying his existence if he doesn’t find something wrong with what you did. So by presenting the question to a band with them saying ‘no’ all the time, to get their permission… you’ve heard the saying “it’s better to ask forgiveness than to ask for permission”? At some point, people are just going to start treating you that way.

    Do you give much thought to why people are interested in Maynard James Keenan?

    No. I just kind of do what I do, and I try my best with whatever I’m doing, but I don’t know if it’s good or not; I just do what I do and people tend to show up for it. I’m thankful for that. I do my part, keep doing things, so at the end of the day I kind of get to stick to what makes sense for you to do, and hopefully at the end of the day you can sleep at night.

    Can you sleep at night, Maynard?

    Oh yeah, absolutely!

    Has your belief in art strengthened over time?

    If you have any success with your interpretations, the hardest part is staying fresh and not falling into a rut, and thinking that you know all the answers. That somewhat chaotic state, that confused, vulnerable state I think is important to at least have a finger on. You don’t have to beat yourself up, you don’t have to suffer for your art but you definitely have to be a little confused to understand where to move. If you’re a chef and you’re trying to use fresh vegetables, the weather is going to affect your menu, and you can’t just rely – if you’re a good chef and you present something that’s alive and vibrant, you have to embrace the fact that it’s not going to be consistent. You have to be able to roll with the changes.

    What do you get out of performing a song like ‘Stinkfist’ nowadays?

    There’s always something I can improve in it. There’s parts of that song that I never quite get right, so I’m always looking for those spots to see how I can do them better but everything else is… At some point some of it becomes autopilot. I don’t have to think about those pieces, I feel like I’ve got those down.

    Since you don’t necessarily have an album to promote this time around, will you be constructing the set list differently to your last Australian tour?

    Yeah, I’m hoping. We’re trying to re-present things in a different way, or pick different tracks that people haven’t heard. Which isn’t hard to do, since some of the songs that we perform, most people won’t have been born when we actually wrote them. It’ll be fun, regardless.

    Tool were my favourite band all throughout my teenage years, so being offered the chance to speak with Maynard was a pretty big deal for me. Thanks to the staff at Junior for making it happen.

    If you’re interested in reading the full transcript of my conversation with Maynard, you can read it here.