So through this one-degree-of-separation thing, I find out that my Aunt Susie knows Brendan Canty, the drummer of Fugazi (long story…). I invited her to their show at the Sanctuary Theater in DC last December, and she introduced me to him after their set. He was nice enough to invite me into his home for an interview a few days later. Hell, he even let me check out his studio and gave me a bunch of iced tea while I was there. What a champ… This is part of our conversation. Oh, and by the way, Aunt Susie really liked the show, so if you EVER get the chance, take her word for it and go see ‘em rawk!!!

Sean: Have you had any problems balancing the marriage / kids thing with the band?

Brendan: There has been a period of adjustment in the last year for us, but also for the band.

No, Joe is married also. But I’m the only one with kids.

Well, we’ve been touring a lot less. Since he was born we’ve only been on three tours and we’ve only done two and a half or three weeks on each one. If you juxtapose that with how much we used to tour, which was about six months out of the year, it’s been a great shift. But it’s also been great because at the same time we’ve been able to get a lot of stuff done. We’ve been able to finish up this movie thing after years and years of working on it. And I’ve been able to spend a lot of time with my family. I’ve also been able to spend a lot of time working on soundtrack stuff and writing for the band. Whereas earlier this year I felt like we were kind of hitting a glass wall writing-wise. As things felt like they were getting more normalized, as far as our shorter touring schedule, and everybody in the band becoming more used to it, I feel like now, in these past few months, when we sit in the basement, we can come up with stuff instantaneously. We’ve been writing tons, and it feels great. I felt like there’s a lot of shifts, a lot of transitions going on. Not just in the last year since Asa was born, but before that. You get really uptight when you’re pregnant. It’s like being constipated or something. You’re just waiting for this thing to happen, and you might not even notice it, but you get very tense about it. The anxiety of the possibilities that could happen really get to you after a while. So while I was going through that, my bandmates were going through it also, as far as what might change or the way things were going to change. And just that anticipation of change was something that could have easily broken us up as a band. But the fact is that everybody really kept their cool and they’ve been really supportive. And I think we’ve come out more productive. Well, I don’t know about more productive. We certainly were getting a lot done when just the four of us were touring nonstop, but it’s nice to know that you can have a kid and still get things done music-wise.

Oh, yeah. He’s fourteen months old. He’s been walking since he was eight months old, and he’s been playing drums since he was about six months old. (laughs) Yeah, he loves the drums and the piano. He’s got a snare drum and a tom that he plays all the time.

He’s seen me play. Once a year we play in Ft. Reno (in DC), and last August he got to see me play there for the first time. And he went to the Sanctuary (Theater, also in DC) show last week.

At Ft. Reno, it’s outside, and at Sanctuary Theater he didn’t make it past the soundcheck. He’s actually pretty used to it. I’m not trying to blow out his eardrums, but like I said, he’s got a real passion for drums. Any time anybody is playing drums, he wants to play. I’ll sit down and play kick and hi-hat with my feet, and he’ll just work the rest of the toms and the snare and some of my cymbals. And it’s pretty spot on. But he does it and of course I’m really psyched, and I encourage it. I’m sure that’s part of it… part of it.

Retrospectively, no. There were certainly times in the midst of those eleven years where I felt regretful for doing things…

No regrets now, because a lot of that time, what I felt as regret then, was really just frustration. A lot of the time it was just logistical frustrations, like the fact that my wife was in school. Or it didn’t feel like it was really time to have kids or to do something differently, but you really wanted to. For me, a lot of it was that I always really wanted a home base and I always really wanted to have a kid. And I also really wanted to be creating and to devote as much time to Fugazi as possible. I feel like we create really well together. Everybody else was there and ready to go, and I really wanted to be there too. But at the same time I really wanted to have a home. I mean, I’ve lived in different group houses with people that I loved and was best friends, but it didn’t really feel like my home. That was a struggle that went on for years, and it’s finally resolved itself. So, in retrospect, I can say that it wasn’t really time, because I wouldn’t commit myself to it, so I obviously wasn’t ready for it. When I really did feel like I was ready for it, it happened really quickly. My wife was out of school. She’s a naturopathic doctor. So when she was out of school we could move on. She was ready to have a kid and I was really ready to have a kid, so we just went ahead and did it. So, retrospectively, I’m glad we didn’t sacrifice and have the kid the second year she was in middle school, or back before we made In on the Kill Taker or Red Medicine. That’s a constant trade off for everybody, the whole art vs. home, or home vs. away. Us sitting in the basement and making music is one part of what we do, but a big part of Fugazi is going out every night and going through the anxiety of proving ourselves as a decent band, against our extremely rigid standards. We really have such high, rigid standards for ourselves that two songs could be screwed up during a set and we’ll consider it the worst show we’ve ever played. I guess it’s some sort of psychosis….

At different times, yeah. It’s mostly about yourself. I mean, you really want to be a fluid performer. You want to be able to getup there and not have to think about the fundamentals of playing a song. 99% of the set is the fundamentals, but that 1% is about getting above that and getting some sort of fluid spirituality on stage where you don’t think about that and you’re just sort of communicating with people on the musically level… Real interaction, where you can really hear each other and you can really elevate the set to something else where things can happen spontaneously, that doesn’t happen every night. You really want it to. Every tour, the first couple of shows are always awesome, so then it’s like, "How can I make it awesome every night?" So the next four or five nights, you’re really working at that. I spend a lot of time marking my drums so that they’re consistent every night. That’s pretty easy. You just put duct tape where all of your stuff goes. But playing different beats requires different body positions, so you’re just trying to get them so that all of those different body positions come naturally. You want it to happen as instinctually as possible, so the next week of the tour is spent trying to figure that out. You’ve finally figured that out and you’re about nine days into the tour… And now, with our shortened tour schedule, we only have a few days left, and that last week is usually pretty good.

Not really.

We want to go to South Africa. There’s still a lot of places.

Our main goal is just to remain productive, to keep writing songs that satisfy us creatively, individually. It’s hard to have a specific goal, but I would say that the ultimate goal is being clear about what you want out of the band and out of music and each song… I’m on the verge of getting completely esoteric (laughs), but it’s basically simplicity vs. math rock. For me, I get a lot of kicks out of writing incredibly complicated shit and arranging songs to death.

I don’t know. I guess it’s this King Crimson-y kind of thing that goes on fundamentally. It’s really kind of hard for me to just say, "Okay, you know those two notes played eight times sounds great." When you’re writing songs, you just want to push it, but at the same time, it’s not easy to visualize a two note song without lyrics on it. So I guess ultimately it would be a lot easier if Ian and Guy wrote lyrics really early in the process. Then our songs would be more simple. Like a lot of our older songs, Ian wrote the lyrics early on.

Not lyrics, but the music, yeah.

Yeah, I think so. I think it’s also that you sit around and practice and try to make it better, but we don’t necessarily do that with lyrics. So we do write them to death, to the point where there’s no room for lyrics. So those guys have the responsibility of squeezing lyrics into songs that were written...

Yeah, as instrumentals. Which is basically almost every song on the last four records. Joe’s song is interesting on the last record. I thought that that was sort of getting back a little bit to the point where we were writing with lyrics. It interesting, once you actually hear the voice and hear the words, you get a real affection for the words. And you really want the words to achieve their goal, so you start working the songs around the lyrics. That’s where the demo comes in. A lot of times, you try to record it a few times, and then really record it. That song "Instrument", we had that song and there were so many guitars on it constantly that it was really full, as a lot of our stuff is. We were listening to a demo, and Guy just popped the guitars out of the song, and it was like, "Oh, there’s the song." Immediately, you can hear the lyrics and get the dynamic. But it’s hard to know when you’re writing songs, especially when you don’t have the lyrics. And it’s also hard when there’s four guys in the room to tell somebody not to play something. You really want a song to be as good as it can be, whatever it takes, whether it’s the most simple approach or the most complicated approach.

You know, I actually like it this way. It’s a double-edged sword. Generally, I don’t like answering fan mail. I don’t mind doing interviews. I like it, but a lot of the time… Like, we had to do some interviews because we were going to Australia, so we had to call these people. I would call them up and the first thing they would ask me is, "How come Ian can’t do the interview?" And he gets it, too. Shit rolls downhill.

Yeah, exactly. It’s usually the first question. I’m not saying that’s true across the board, but there’s definitely a lot of people out there who only want to hear from Ian. There’s a few less people who want to hear from Ian and Guy. And I think there’s about four people who want to hear from Joe and I. (laughs) But yeah, it’s a double edged sword. It’s like, "I’m up for doing interviews, but fuck you. If you want to do an interview with Ian then I don’t want to…"

Exactly. We did a whole interview for NPR, for "All Things Considered" about a month and a half ago. Me and Ian sat down and answered questions for an hour and a half or two hours. Every question was about 50/50, with both of us answering. Then they aired it and I wasn’t on it at all.

No, they didn’t even acknowledge that I was there.

So, that kind of thing happens and it’s like, "Fuck you." Why would I even bother showing up? I stopped doing that seven years ago. For a long time we tried to do interviews where there were two of us, or all four of us. I would interject something and the person would go, "Uh-huh, yeah…" and then point the microphone back at Ian.

Yeah, he gets really mad about it. Not only the pressure for him, but he gets so pissed for me. I’ve come to expect it, but he does get pretty pissed off. I wouldn’t have been so pissed (about NPR) if I hadn’t told my mom to listen. (laughs)

I’m not a big fan of spit. (laughs) A lot of people watch our show and think that we kind of try to curtain any kind of activity, if somebody’s being really violent… Which happens all of the fucking time. But we do it so that people can enjoy the show. But I think people think we’re really pissed, like the show’s over, because they’re not used to it. They’re not used to bands confronting people about it, about anything. But to us it’s no big deal.

Exactly, there’s so many great people… I’ll tell ya, this last tour there have been more great crowds than I think we have ever had. Pretty much every night was awesome. Really mellow but cool crowds that were pretty jacked up, knew the songs, and were really psyched about it. And that helps. That lifts your morale so much. But there were times where somebody was throwing punches or there were five dickheads in the crowd doing the wall and pushing everybody. And you have to say something. Otherwise it will destroy the show for you. You can’t play music and be distracted by somebody punching or even pushing somebody to the music.

That was one of the better retorts from Ian.

When he asked the other guy to remove his hat (and be polite when requesting a song). That was pretty quick.

The whole thing is ritual. Every day is exactly the same.

No, nothing like that. I have to drink coffee before I play but that’s about it. I’ll tell you exactly how our days go. We usually get up around ten and take our showers and watch TV at the Super 8. We always stay at a Super 8 at this point, unless we’re at a friends house. And I guess we have a lot of friends now.

Yeah. Then we pretty much hit the road, and eat at some shithole. Either Subway or Denny’s or some crap. Then we drive. Usually every day we drive about three or four hours. We get to the show at three thirty or so, and sound check. Jerry, our roadie and second drummer and trumpet player, and Nick Pellicciotto or Joey are usually there a little early. They drive in a Ryder van, and we drive in a mini-van. Then we load in. Then we all go get dinner, and come back by the first band. We usually watch the bands or sit around and chill out backstage and we have a little tea service. I go out and get some coffee so that I can drink coffee during the band just before us. And hopefully they have a good drummer that’ll make me play well. Then we play, and pack up, and usually derive another hour or so to another Super 8. So, it’s pretty spooky. But literally, that’s 99% of the days.

But in Brazil or Australia of Japan or any of the places where you would take a day off, we schedule a day off. Or Seattle, because I have family. Okay, maybe not in every city. But we’ll take two or three days off in a row in Tokyo. Or even two days is plenty…

At some point, yeah. It would be nice to do more, but when you’re taking six guys to Tokyo or to Australia or Brazil, as Mike Watt says, if you’re not playing, you’re paying. (laughs) You know, because every night is three hotel rooms. And we don’t make ten thousand dollars a show. We try to keep our tickets low, so we try to maintain some kind of balance.

Not really. I end up spending a lot of time with my son. I usually take the kid in the morning so my wife can work and see patients. And she’ll take him in the afternoon so that I can go record in the basement or go practice with Fugazi. Then she usually sees another patient in the evening, and I record after dinner for a couple of hours. Right now I’m working on miniseries called "Buildings, Bridges, and Tunnels" for Discovery. A friend of mine is a producer there, Kurt Sayenga, who is actually the same guy that did the artwork for our first three records. He worked for Discover for a long time doing documentaries and now he has his own production company. He produces his own documentaries and sells them to Discovery channel. And he mover to LA, which is kind of a drag. So I’m working for him now, doing the soundtrack.

It’s got a lot of trumpet and piano and drums. I always add the drums at the end. I record a lot of stuff to a drum machine, and then at the end I play real drums on it so that I can interact with the other stuff appropriately. It works great. Like I said, the drums can come and go when they’re appropriate.

Exactly, you can accent on it. So, I’m doing that. And I just finished a cartoon called "History of Glamour" which right now is just a forty minute prototype of a cartoon. It’s a great story that was written by Theresa Duncan. And Jeremy Blake did the artwork with Karen Kilinnik. She’s a painter. She did sketches of fashion models. So they sort of appropriated her images and turned them into a cartoon. But it’s all about the fashion world. This girl comes from Nebraska to New York and starts a night club in a bathroom stall and it becomes famous. It’s basically people talking retrospectively about her life and her rise and fall. It’s sort of a "Citizen Kane" cartoon-style. I wrote and recorded a bunch of songs and had Kathi Wilcox from Bikini Kill record them. And the children’s songs… I’ve done three CD-Roms for Theresa Duncan. The first one was called "Chop Suey" and that was actually animated by Ian Svenonius from The Make-Up. My brother is in the band also. So he animated them back when she was still in Washington working for Magnet, which is an internet developer. Basically, her idea was to produce CD-Roms for little girls, because at the time there were none. There were about 40,000 different Doom-type games. She was looking for something that was basically a narrative, very imaginative. And she succeeded. In her wake there have been whole companies started. Disney started an all-girl company to tap into that market. Somebody started a company and they actually stole their logo.

Yeah, bastards. Whoever they may be… I can’t remember who it was.

That’s right, the damn man. She eventually sold the project to 20^th Century Fox, speaking of the man. (laughs) But it’s really worked for her. I don’t know if they’re still making them. I think she made a deal with FAO Scwartz, and they are distributing all three titles. There’s "Chop Suey", "Smarty", which was called "Smarty-Pants" until we found out the name was registered to someone else, and "Zero Zero", which was a story about a little girl at the turn of the last century in Paris fantacizing about what the next century would be like. So my idea is, since I actually own all of that stuff, to make it into a children’s record, and to add more songs to it. Maybe next year.

Yeah.