An Exclusive Interview with Albert Bouchard and Deborah Frost


Interview by Jean-Luc Carrier - appeared in Blue Pearl #10 (June 1996)


BP: What have been the main differences between Eponymous and Trepanation studio workings and recordings?

Al: The main difference in the two CDs is the tempos. On Eponymous, all the tracks were originally done with machines. Over the course of recording, most of the machines were replaced with live musicians, but the tempos remained absolutely rigid. On Trepanation, all the tracks (except "Everything is Blue" and "Happy New Year") were recorded in three days with a live band and no click track - allowing for the slight variations in tempo which make songs, I believe, breathe. Other differences include a Neumann U87 mic for vocals on Trepanation vs. a CAD E200 on Eponymous, and a Yamaha ProMix01 mixer on Trepanation vs. a Mackie 1604 (which I sold to my brother Joe) for Eponymous. I was able to borrow some better equipment for Trepanation also. Finally, a couple other factors which made Trepanation sound better were the chance I had to preview some of my mixes at the mastering place with Andy VanDette before I finished mixing (I then elected to do some over), and the detailed mixing suggestions that Paul Special (whose mixes you will hear on the first two songs on the cassette Career of Christmas) faxed to me before I started to mix. Paul is one of my favorite audio engineers in the whole world, but because of scheduling conflicts, he was unable to participate physically in the mixing of Trepanation.

Deborah: The main difference between the two albums is this: Eponymous was really just me and Albert in our living room; Trepanation is more of a group effort in a garage! We also invested in some new equipment, which improved the sound. Some of the songs benefitted from having been played live before we recorded them.

BP: Trepanation appears as a more coherent (or less eclectic) album than Eponymous. Does it result from the mutation of a two-heads project into a real four piece group? Where did that funny funk-rock fusion feeling which pleasantly surprised in some Eponymous tunes go?

Al: With Trepanation Deborah and I went in a more heavy rock direction quite on purpose. After playing a bunch of shows we found that our heavy rock tunes were more fun for us to play live and we were interested in generating more of those kind of songs to use in our live show. That funny funk-rock feel is temporarily dormant. I suspect it will manifest itself on the next recording in more subtle ways.

Deborah: You're right, Trepanation is more coherent. It's more of a piece. It reflects where we were at emotionally at a particular point in time. When Albert and I did Eponymous, we'd been writing together for ten years, and a couple of those songs were some of the first things we'd done, but it was not as immediate. Maybe we got too fussy with it (some people think it's a little stiff, and much stiffer than we ever are live, and they're probably right). But I think it was only after doing it that we really got a sense of where we were going, what we were doing. It's always an ongoing process. When we did Eponymous, it was absolutely the best we could do at that point. And then, I think, we rapidly got better. The funny funk-rock fusion feeling you anoted was what Albert was into. I had mixed feelings about it then. I think Albert was finding his persona. I wouldn't say that we will never do anything with a funny funk-rock vibe again. I think there is probably only one formula we will ever have - and that is, that there is no formula. Once you start having rigid ideas - the Rolling Stones are this and not this, the Beatles will only perform with a sitar, the Beach Boys only sing about sun and surf, the so and so's will only scream about bikes and leather, you're really dead creatively. And we are doing this to express ourselves creatively, not to stifle ourselves. Both Albert and I have made plenty of other creative statements throughtout our respective careers, but neither of us is the type who finds repetition, even of past successes, particularly satisfying. We always want to feel we're growing. Although what direction that will take we don't know until we're actually working on a particular song. Sometimes, we have a very clear idea about what we want to do - and then, in the execution, it turns out differently! But the surprise is what's exciting. The surprise is what I live for.

BP: How would you define your words and music? Brain metal in a strange surgery?

Al: I only write it. Defining it is somebody else's job

Deborah: A blanket definition of our music? I personally am just trying to do the best I can do, to live up to the standards of the music and art and literature that has always inspired me. And there are a lot of influences, whether Matisse or Mick Jagger. I have certain standards of perfection I'm always striving toward. I'm not imitating any one thing, but I've assimilated many, many different things that I suppose all boil down to a search for beauty, a way to transmit a particular passion. And to do it on my own terms. As I'm always trying to say in a song I haven't ever quite figured out how to write (yet, anyway): I'm always reaching for the sky - It's just a little over my head.

BP: The chorus of " Gimme Nothin'" reminds me something as a typical King's X atmosphere (one of my favortite bands ever). Are you influenced by some native 80's or 90's metal bands?

Al: Yes, for Trepanation it was mainly Helmet and Collective Soul, but I also respect King's X a great deal (especially live). Some other contemporary influences are PJ Harvey, the Breeders, Mike Watt, Sonic Youth, Alice In Chaings, NIN and Soundgarden. [note: list shortened for forest conservation]

Deborah: Funny that you should say the chorus of "Gimme Nothin'" reminds you of King's X. It's a little tip to their Atlantic labelmates, the southern band, Collective Soul ("Shine" - a big single last year - maybe it never quite translated to France). And Collective Soul were borrowing that particular feel from ZZ Top, who in turn were emulating Howling Wolf. So it all comes around. Albert and I were both admirers of King's X, and spent a little time with them. I championed their early albums, and Albert and I interviewed the drummer for a drum magazine, which was fun for us, even if the publication was essentially clueless about him (and just about everything else). They were a great live band who never really managed to capture their vibe on record. And even though they're now being managed by the people who handle Rush (a band that's really defied every formula in the biz) and have a major label deal and lots of promotional opportunities that they didn't have at first (I still think their first album, despite its lower-fi sound, may be their best), people don't really know what to do with tem. I think Albert and I could do a good job helping them shape their material and producing them. I'd like to try, although I don't know if anyoune is visionalry enough to give us a shot. I think if they don't really break through soon, they're going to break up.

Cosmik: The lyrics of "My Civilization" do directly denounce a certain way of life which symbolize occidental modern societies. As artists, do you consider yourselves as messengers?

Al: Some might argue that is the purpose of art anyway. However, one must never sacrifice the poetry of the music on the altar of the message. I still really did Peter Gabriel.

Deborah: Yes, as an artist, I do consider myself a messenger as you put it. I haven't given up the notion that rock is useful for something other than selling stuff on television and is potentially a more powerful revolutionary tool than car bombs and machine guns. But maybe I'm just a hopeless old hippie.

Cosmik: "Sally" and "Hansel & Gretel" were originally demoed for the "Agents of Fortune" album. Are you satisfied with the Surgeons' treatment?

Al: I love the BS version of "Sally". "Hansel & Gretel", on the other hand, has always been problematic. As a duet, I think it makes it, but I wish our vocals were more... something, I don't know. Still, I don't regret putting it on the album. The same could be said about "If U Come Close"

Deborah: Albert may have begun working on "Sally" and "Hansel & Gretel" some time ago, but he was never able to resolve some of their inherent structural problems until we tackled them together. On "Sally", it wasn't a problem of the lyrics, but getting the right feel, and I don't think any of the other vocalists in Albert's old band either really understood what the song was about or was capable of transmitting it. "Hansel & Gretel" had other problems. But I think that's one of the advantages to having been around for awhile and having more than a few skills as a craftsperson up your sleeve, as well as emotional repetoire that only comes from experience. These are just two songs you happen to be aware of. There are other songs I may have started at some other point, or ideas that were never sustained beyond a line, never mind a verse. As a writer, I've begun short stories or pieces, and never been able to finish them, for one reason or another until years later. It makes it very satisfying when you can do that - there's a sense of completion. In fact, there are several songs on Trepanation that are the result of that process, and I think that's what makes the whole thing work. Take "Medusa" for example. I can remember exactly where I was when the basic idea of that song came to me. I was very young, maybe 12 or 13 years old, thinking in my bedroom about what we were reading in class, Edith Hamilton's introduction to Greek mythology, and I thought, "Wow, what a good idea for a song". And right there, I came up with the chorus and "Ah-ah-ah" that everyone probably thinks is Albert's work, because it sounds like his kind of trademark vocal arrangement. But it didn't come back to me until years later for various reasons. And, I also had to have the certain kinds of very difficult and personal experience that informs the song. In fact, my writing it was the way I was able to resolve a particular situation. And it all had a particular meaning for me, although it may mean something very different to any listener. And frankly, I hope it does. Because that, to me, is the power of a great rock song. I mean, I can onlly imagine what or who John Lennon or Mick Jagger or Neil Young or Joni Mitchell is singing about in what I think is their best work - maybe they're just being clever. Although, in order to make it really work, like in any great piece of literature or theater or film or art, there must be some emotional truth. For me, anyway. Although I recognize that my source of identification with that truth may be different than the guy or girl next to me. And I can appreciate that for some thirteen-year old, with much less experience in life than I have, that Trent Reznor's statement have tremendous emotional resonance - he's expressing something his listeners can't possibly articulate yet. Listen, when I was 9 or 10, I thought "Going To The Chapel Of Love" by the Dixie Cups was one of the most beautiful, even profound songs I'd ever heard! But I have probably always taken poular music more seriously and intensely than most people. It's never been a passing phase. It's always been my life.

BP: Albert, is "Night Of The 1,000 Guitars" your personal way to say bye-bye to the Cult's years definitively? Do you play any BOC stuff in concert? Why? How do you feel when you kick the stage with the Brain Surgeons?

Al: The cassette may explain "NOTTG" a little. Yes, we play some of the songs I wrote for BOC live. I only play songs I wrote, (no "Reaper", no "Godzilla") although we did play "Dr. Music" one time when Joe sat in with us. At first, we tried not to play any BOC stuff, but I didn't have the heart to dissapoint faithful fans. Now we try to play a new obscure (live anyway) BOC tune every couple of months. We're planning to put out a live album sometime in the future that may have some of these tunes on it. (I feel) nervous but good. The best thing is playing songs that most people haven't heard live before, especially if they're looking forward to some kind of surprise. Honestly, the worst part is the smoke. I gave up smoking 12 years ago, and some clubs we play these days are very smoky. Maybe they always were, but I didn't notice because I was a smoker. Now, it bothers me, especially after I get home and try to sleep and my hair smells like an ashtray. Gross!

BP: Deborah, I think your voice comes up to a new dimension with Trepanation (especially on "A Kiss Is A Promise"). What do you think 'bout that?

Deborah: Thank you for your comments about my vocals on Trepanation. That you are so in tune with what I was reaching for, particularly on "Kiss", which was a pretty emotional thing for me, makes me feel as if I'm getting a little closer to what I'm striving for. There are a couple of things that happened on Trepanation... Number one is that I got a new microphone, one I'd wanted for a long time, the Neumann 87, but I did without, due to budgetary considerations. And it did indeed make a big difference, as I knew it would. Number two, we also got a better compressor. And number three, porbably most important, I got more confidence, and opened up more. Maybe I got more serious about my singing, too. I just did a lot more of it. And of course, we'd played more live gigs, and it all started to come together. I think, though, that most women don't even get the opportunity to develop as rock singers. Most guys don't, either. I mean, you're supposed to make it when you're barely out of your teens. Your body may be at its peak, but your voice certainly isn't. Robert Plant is probably a better singer now than he ever was. Mick Jagger is, too, but that's not necessarily gonna make me desperate to hear the songs on Voodoo Lounge or that stripped thing more than once in the near future. But I doubt that most guys who are in heavy rotation on MTV now are even gonna be around in a couple of years, never mind a couple of decades, still working on their chops. And most people simply get ravaged by the road or the biz. Eddie Vedder, for instance, I hope he manages to get it together. I was really moved by the first album. Of course, when I picked up on it and wrote about it in the Village Voice, I had absolutely no idea 10 million people were going to be so moved by it, too. I thought they were so much better live and no one was ever going to know about it! But as for my own singing, what I find funny and strange is when people compare me to Patti Smith or Chrissie Hynde or Marianne Faithfull, all of whom I admire for different reasons, but none of whom I think I sound particularly like. And I think why that happens is because people are so unused to hearing a woman's voice (although, unlike all of the above, I sing for very conscious and specific reasons, in a few different voices). All you generally hear are these little girl voices. Most women don't get a chance to really develop as rock singers.

BP: Albert, do you still expect something from rock music?

Al: I expect that music will ease my pain. It already has.


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