Justin Vernon of Bon Iver
Ian Mackaye
Interview originally posted in music magazine Under the Radar - 2011
Ian Mackaye: So how does this work?
Justin Vernon: I just have a bunch of questions that I've anted to ask you my whole life. In this selfish way, I feel like I could maybe be a little better of a person afterwards maybe.
Ian: Are you not a good person?
Justin: I'm a good person, but I feel like you can always get better.
Ian: Oh, word.
Justin: I got so far back with your music and what it means to me and how it shapes me continually, I didn't want to throw you into such a weird situation, but I'm going to anyways.
Ian: Totally understood, but one think you should know is that you can't throw me into a situation, because, ultimately, I decide. This is not by fiat. It was a request, and I checked it out, and I thought, this guy seems like a nice guy, an interesting guy. His work seems interesting. If someone is genuinely curious and they want to talk about something, I'm always up for a conversation. When it's people want my name for their resume, well, fuck that. Every day I have things I like to do, and I have things that I have to get done. I'm not trying to mess with people. I don't have a PR person. I don't have a lawyer. It's just me. I'm in the phone book. I'm accessible, and I get a lot of calls... There's music to be made. There's custodial work to be done. I have an enormous amount of responsibility in terms of the Dischord catalog. This is music that has been important to a significant number of people, and it's definitely important to me. I have a responsibility to these musicians who have entrusted me with their music to make sure that as long as there's an interest or demand for that music that it's available in one form or another. And it's a lot trickier than people would think. I basically work every day on it.
Justin: And you have for a long time.
Ian: 30 years.
Justin: Um...let me see here. Your history is well known, and I feel like I understand the Dischord thing as a student of whatever you want to call it, American rock and roll or whatever it is. But there's decades of evidence that point to your ethic, and I'm going through this shit right now where I was just a musician from a small town in Wisconsin and not really having any success but knowing that music is what I needed to do, and then all of a sudden being thrown into this current state of "indie music" and not really feeling like I had stopped to make choices on my own. And I feel like I'm in the middle of it now, so I wanted to ask you about what these words mean, like the word "indie band." When you hear that term now, it's got to make you feel weird, right?
Ian: [Laughs] It's funny. I listened to your record yesterday, the new one, which I thought was quite interesting.
Justin: Thanks, man.
Ian: Me, I've got to live with things for a little bit, but I was interested, because I had no idea. In reading a little bit about your work, I was kind of expecting the guy with the acoustic guitar, which I like. Don't get me wrong. But I was really interested in the texture of your music. The thing about a lot of music today that I head, I fell like there's so many references. It's the same for me. Don't forget, I grew up listening to music, and even in Minor Threat, for me, I was Janis Joplin. That's where I was coming from. So hearing your music, obviously your command of sonics and your ideas of layering and how you work, you're obviously channeling something that you've been consumed with. It's very interesting, but I was wondering, what kind of music I was wondering, what kind of music is this? Because it sure as fuck doesn't sound like anything I know. I thought, "I guess this is what people call "indie," which is kind of tragic in my mind. But the thing is, indie or hardcore or punk, the delineations are really connected to the market place, ultimately.
Justin: That's what I'm getting at, the whole thing. Because I didn't grow up a communist or a socialist or anti-socialist in any regard, but Fugazi was one of the first bands that I ever went deeply into and went to the records for personal advice....in your eyes, what line do you see yourself behind in comparison to other labels that made your label a model and have gone on to have bigger market place shares. Where do you see Dischord fitting in this whole American capitalist thing?
Ian: Well, I'm not an expansionist. That's the general the general model -- growing and getting bigger and bigger. And the thing for me personally is that I did not want to have a record label. What I wanted to do was play music, and I wanted to do it in a way where I would decide how, when, where, and why. No one else was going to tell me how to do that. Along with the fact that no one else was going to put out of Teen Idles record -- I mean, why would they? We were from Washington D.C., and we were broken up. No label was going to put that out, and at that time Washington D. C. was so completely off the map in terms of the music business. To some degree in current times you can live virtually anywhere, and because of the nature of the interconnectedness with computers it's a little easier. You can be a part of the music business even if you're not an established artist. But back then you had to move to New York or Los Angeles -- somewhere there was a record business because there wasn't one here, that's for sure. But I didn't care about that. I wasn't interested in the record business. I hated the record business. When I got into punk, I turned off the radio forever.... The radio -- that's advertising. You know the music that gets on the radio, it doesn't get there because the DJs want to play it.
Justin: Even with the "independent" music labels, there are things you have to do to be nice to the radio stations. I find myself putting up with it, but I wander what part of me is dying slowly be dealing with it. I start to wonder if it's just a fucking waste of my time after a while. That word "expansionist" at the beginning of your answer said everything. What are you looking for? An expansion of what? Basically, it's money and recognition for something that started out as a pure expression of yourself. Like you said, you are a part of music, and it's part of you, and you're going to give it and it will give to you.
Ian: I have to say, thought, it's tricky. For instance, you said that you were a fan of Fugazi. For instance, you said that you were a fan of Fugazi as a kid, and there's a possibility, at least, that you would have not thought it was possible to call and ask these questions. The fact is, your work has connected with people, and it has grown for you. And I imagine you've had some really incredible experiences. I'll give you an example for myself. I'm not an expansionist, but I've toured all over the world with Fugazi. It's not like there's no growth or that nothing changes and we'll only play the 9:30 Club from now on. It just had to be natural, and I wasn't interested in artificial growth or the traditional thing. If 50 people, and if 5,000 people want to see, let's find one that holds 5,000. And then we'll figure out how it works once we get there. In the same way, I never would have gone to Iceland or Malaysia if people didn't want to see us, but, boy, am I glad I went. It was an incredible experience. It wasn't my aim when I started the label or started playing in bands, but there's a natural trajectory.... People often ask me, "What do you think about the download thing?" And I think, well, I want the song to be heard, so that's fine with me if people are sharing my music. However, at some point, if people feel that they should never have to pay for music because they can either steal it or some car company is going to pay for it, inevitably there's going to come a time where the only music that's available for free is music that's already been made, because no one can possible afford to make music for free. That's an interesting equation that people will have to contend with. I'm actually not that worried about it.
Justin: You could sit and worry about it forever, I suppose, but it doesn't really freak me out. Maybe I"m in the minority as far as musicians who are really all about understanding the industry, but I feel OK. If I didn't own my own music, there would have to be a lot of fights. Ray Charles had to fight for his publishing, which I think there was no way he shouldn't have had his publishing. But, at the same time, the idea of owning music is pretty bizarre.
Ian: Well, you can own it all you want. But once it's in the air, there's nothing you can really do about it. Their question with ownership has to do with who's exposing it. That's a different issue. I think you should be mindful of that, because it's not a question of the money, it's a question of the use. I'm a little startled by the propensity with which people seem to have n problem whatsoever for selling things. I think, wow, what an insult to music, in my opinion. But I think it's a fallacy, too, that the only way you can make money in music through advertising. I think that's a bunch of bullshit. I think the advertising lobby has bee n promoting that. I think that the idea that a song is merely a vehicle with which to draw attention to another product is a real shame. But that's nothing new. It's been going on at least since the days of the snake oil guys going around the country selling various potions and stuff, and musicians played to and stuff, and musicians played to get the crowds to come out.
Justin: So if an indie band has a song, and it was made completely independently for themselves, and then they got picked up by people and their music blew up in this age of the internet, and then, afterwards a company wants to give you a bunch of money to use that song to sell a product of theirs -- what is that conundrum? Because if they want to use it to sell Toyota Priuses --
Ian: Well, for me, it's not conundrum whatsoever, because I would never fucking do it. And if other people would do it, it's no conundrum for them, because they would do it. I have to say, I'm not that judgmental of the people. I do think everyone has their own circumstances and their own thinking about it, and I think, "fair enough."
Justin: But why wouldn't you do it?
Ian: Well, name a song that meant something to you. A Fugazi song for instance. One that I'm singing ideally.
Justin: Uh...wow, there are so many. You put me on the spot.
Ian: Anything. Just an example.
Justin: "Five Corporations."
Ian: Okay, "Five Corporations." When I Wrote that song, I knew what the fuck I was singing about, and and it meant something to me. SO the idea that that song could then become just the soundtrack for maybe a floor cleaner or a cell phone or something, it just feels terrible to me. It seems completely bizarre, because the music itself is just a decoration. But it's not a decoration for me.
Justin: It's not a decoration for something that you didn't imagine. Or it didn't feel like a good place for that music.
Ian: The thing is, it becomes part of the ad. When you put music and visuals together, it's provocative. It really affects you. I know this because I've seen movies where a song comes in, and I can't hear that song without thinking about that movie.... No matter how you work on your songs -- and I don't know how you work on your songs or where they come from -- but I assume they come from some place that's really intimate for you, and that's the same for me. It's the same for video games. Like using a song like "Suggestion" chattering away in the background while zombies run around, it just seems totally fucking insane to me. People say, "Well, it's a great way to get your music out." No, it's not. It's away, not a great way.
Justin: I feel that.
Ian: But, I have to be really clear, that's just me. I respect people and I have a lot of friends who have done many different things, and I think, "Right on. That's you. You do what's right for you." I really try to respect other people's choices and decisions. I live with my own. I work all the time. I'm essentially on my own at this point. I struggle to find time to write music, because my life at this moment is very structural because I'm trying to deal with all these things. It's not as if I'm just taking time off from a creative session to talk on the phone. I'm just not doing other work to do this work. This is what I've got, and this is my decision. I've got friends who are genius musicians who every day they can work on their music, and they've done that because they've allowed other people to facilitate for them. And I didn't do it that way, but some of my dearest friends. Their situations are different than mine, and there are some things some of them might feel bad about, but that's all right. They're living their lives the way they want to.
Justin: Well, that's why I wanted to talk to you. Because I can live with every decision I've made. I haven't done any strict advertising stuff. It's not like I'm feeling weird or guilty talking to you about it. I'm literally curious. I grew up in Wisconsin, and I feel lucky that [because of] my family and friendships with people, I'm a grounded person. I'm not doing anything for any reason that I feel cautious about. But it's cool to talk to you about this stuff, man, because I think there's something really evident in why music is the way it is and what it isn't.
Ian: I think that you experiences are probably very similar to mine. Igrew up in a very connected family. Totally crazy, but connected. Very grounded. And, culturally speaking, it's a very small town, Washington, D.C. Go and study up on some mid 70s D.C. rock bands if you can find one. Good luck.
Justin: With Fugazi, or any of your bands, there's this energy that's there, like accurately placed aggression. Positively placed aggression. So I was just wondering, for you, how has your relationship with music changed as you've gotten older and wiser. What is it to you now when you write music? You were talking about how you've always been emotional, but does music do different shit for you now? Are you using it differently?
Ian: "Aggression" is a tricky word, and I use it. I don't mind. But it's something has to be qualified, because, honestly, I was trying to be free on strage. I wanted to be free. I used to say, "How many settings are there where you get to completely drench yourself in sweat and jump all over the stage. It's so insane." But I often think when the word "aggression" comes up, it's like you're attacking the audience or something. That wasn't really the mission, to attack the audience. Though I've often said, "Don't ever go on the stage unless you intend to destroy it." And obviously, I don't intend to hurt the stage. But take full advantage of what's given in that moment. Just take it. Go. Really lay into it. And, for me, it's no different now. With The Evens, and I don't know if you've listened to that stuff or not...
Justin: Yeah, I know The Evens.
Ian: For me, in many ways that music is as confrontational, if not more so, than anything. It's not music that's hiding behind volume or setting. It's pretty naked. It's just there. So I don't feel any less passionate or, I guess, aggressive. When I play I intend to destroy. I want the evening to transcend. I'm looking for the moments. So it has never changed for me, ever. If we lived in a static world, and everything stayed the same, and it was 1981, I might still be playing in Minor Threat or music that's like Minor Threat. But that's not the case. The world is perpetually changing, and we are perpetually changing, and what the constant is in my world is creative response and thinking about, "Ok, here's what's happening in the world. How do I respond to it?" For instance, with Minor Threat, we were responding to the circumstances. In The Teen Idles, we were responding to the circumstances. In Embrace, there was a response to what was going on in Washington in 1985. We're working on this live site, this crazy Fugazi live series site. We have 850 recordings, and we're going to post them all. I've been working on this for two years. It's going to be pretty comprehensive. They're good recordings, and there's a lot of craziness. There's a lot of stuff between songs. And I was saying that it's going to be interesting to hear this, because they're going to be wondering what's going on, like, "Why's he yelling at people" Why doesn't he want people to jump off stage? It seems so fin." But it's contextual, and for people who were going to shows in 1989, 90, 91, 92 -- especially after Nirvana really hit the airwaves, and suddenly there was this explosion of videos showing people what to do -- every show we played was a video reenactment. And it was absolutely mindless, and it was because of that that so many people were injured. And they were people injured. And they were not the people doing the jumping around; it was the other people. So the idea was to respond to those circumstances, and I'd say from the stage, "If you're going to fight, get the fuck out of here," or "stop jumping on people's heads. That's it; your ticket's punched." That's just the way it was in that moment. Sometimes when I hear it, I'm like, "Oh,man. I'm really giving those guys a hard time." But I have to give myself a break, because I was having a hard time." But I have to give myself a break, because I was having a hard time too, because the context of the time was so nuts. But now it's a different time, and what I'm trying to do now, I'm just doing whatever music is around me. And I think that's the plan right until I die.
Justin: That's really great. Hey, I want to let you go, and I really want to say thanks. Everything you said made a lot of sense, and it's still inspiring to me, and I appreciate it all.
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