Interludes after midnight can
be anything from a frantic rush to catch a
train, to an encounter with someone you'd like to slow down and spend some
quality time with. For producer Blockhead it's the title of his latest
album as he looks to use his unique brand of hip-hop meets downtempo
instrumental production to encapsulate one of the biggest post-midnight
influences from his childhood - New York public access television. It may
seem like a non-traditional topic to create an album around, but as
Blockhead told us, it's not the only way he's breaking tradition with
Interludes After Midnight. When
he sat down with RapReviews he revealed not
just how public access TV inspired him, but also the intricacies of his
evolving relationship with music.
Adam Bernard:Interludes After Midnight is
the new album. What's so
interesting, or inspiring, about when the clock hits midnight?
Blockhead: I'm a night person in many ways. A couple of my albums
have been dedicated to a more late night atmosphere. I tend to think a lot
of good things happen between midnight and two. It's kind of when I feel
like I do my best thinking. I don't know if that relates to the album at
all, but I definitely have a high regard for the late evening.
AB: I notice you said from midnight to two. Does everything go to
crap after two am?
B: {*laughs*} On the flip side I think nothing good happens after
two. Actually, there should be a little addendum to that - great things
happen after two, but nothing that starts after two. NY bars are open till
four, but I always stop drinking at two because I'm like "I gotta stop now
or else this will get out of hand," but when I was a single guy those were
the hours when things would really go down, the two to four hours, so good
things do happen after two, but good in the sense of well being... not
really. Good in the healthy sense? Not really. By all means, stay out till
four, I'm no stranger to that, but if there's a party and someone says
"there's this other party," and it's after two, that will not be a good
party. You shouldn't go to that party because it will just be a bunch of
people doing coke and arguing.
AB: Not a good time at all. Moving to the music of Interludes After Midnight, was
it inspired by your personal interludes after midnight, or
the stories of friends?
B: The title is actually based on an old Leased Access show that was
on channel 35, or channel J even further back in the day. It was a TV show
where they basically showed a lot of escort commercials, but the show
itself was this naked guy interviewing naked women. It was a very distant
thing from my childhood. If you lived in NY at any point in the last 20
years it probably was there in the early part. Basically, my album is an
ode to the era where that was a defining point of my life.
AB: Public access nudity?
B: Well, public access. I learned a lot about sex via the worst ways
possible, but it wasn't just that, it was that era when I was in my late
teens, early twenties, and watching that kind of stuff all the time. Not
just that, but public access in general, because I had a public access show
back then. It was a very weirdly creative time in New York's history, I
think, that has kind of fallen to the wayside since then. It was a cool
time. You would turn on the TV and see some crazy shit at like ten in the
evening and go "what the fuck is this?" It was like weird student films or
escort commercials. It wasn't hardcore, but it was definitely weird. There
would be like 976 commercials for 976-SEED, the one you call if you want to
hear brothers and sisters have sex. Shit like that. Really weird call-in
numbers. Stuff like that was like the pinnacle of humor to me and my
friends back in the day. We would watch it and crack jokes. It definitely
wasn't a sexual thing.
AB: We had one in CT, this guy who called himself Jerry Jer the
Tampon Man. He was a black dude with an earring that went Jane Child style.
B: Of course! Good reference.
AB: Thank you. Sometimes he had a maxi pad with red marker taped to
his forehead and he was cursing about everything. He had a death list.
Across the screen it was like "hobbies - raping your grandmother." There
are only two clips of him on YouTube, though.
B: You're lucky to have any. When I was making this album I was
looking for vocal samples from old public access shows and I couldn't find
ANYTHING on YouTube. I was on a show that aired from '97-2001 and there's
like one clip on there and it isn't anything special. All the old shows I
loved back in the day, it was nearly impossible to find anything. It was
the era of VHS tapes. There was no YouTube back then and I guess no one
transfered those tapes to DVD.
AB: To be fair, it's a VERY limited audience that would want those
on DVD.
B: That is true, but it had a fan base. There were people I revered
as much as I revered normal celebrities just from seeing them on public
access shows. I'd see someone on the street and be like oh my God, that's
the guy from whatever that TV show is. There was a fandom to it, and I
don't think it's around anymore.
AB: Even in music it's tough to find true fans at this point. You
find people who "like" things, and who "follow" things, but fandom doesn't
really exist. What happened to fandom? As a musician it has to bother you a
little bit that fandom isn't cool anymore.
B: I see it when I tour. There are still people where you're like
"wow, you're a really fuckin ill fan," but I feel in the overall scheme of
things it's how music has become so disposable. Very few people listen to
albums all the way through. I feel like everything moves so fast. The
process listening to an album back in the day would be taking a cassette,
or a record, or a CD, and puttin it on and it sitting there and listening
to it. Now it's like you download it onto your computer, skip through the
tracks, 30 seconds each, pick a couple songs that you think you might like,
and then that's it, and I think that doesn't really make fans. That makes
for iPod fodder.
AB: You mentioned touring, and I saw you live at Mercury Lounge in
the city. Something I found a little strange was the crowd's reaction to
what was happening on stage. You were up there with your laptop, your DJ
was next to you, and everyone was staring.
B: Well that's New York. {*laughs*} That is definitely a New York
thing. It's changed a little bit. It's funny, I don't have a DJ anymore, so
the crowd is even less enthralled, but New York has always been that kind
of set and stare crowd. I'm that guy, too, but I wouldn't do it in the
front row. I'm not an asshole. I'd stay in the back and quietly watch. It's
kind of evolved. The show you went to was a while ago. My crowd has kind of
gotten a little looser since then, especially outside of New York. A lot
more dancing, a lot more feeling the vibe kind of thing. It's not a weird,
pensive watching, type of show anymore, which is good because I really hate
that shit. I feel weird about even performing like that, but that's kind of
the only way I can do it because I'm not gonna bring my sampler up on the
stage and even if I could I wouldn't know what to do with it live, so
there's a weird mixed feeling I have about the live performance aspect of
my music. People want to hear it, and it's definitely different from what
I'm recording on my albums, but visually it is what it is, you're not gonna
get much. I'm not a crazy dancing guy.
AB: Have you ever thought of dry ice and lots of stage lighting?
B: Believe me, things have been discussed. The best I can do is hope
the place I'm playing has a screen I can put some visuals up on.
AB: Maybe some hula hoop girls?
B: That happens in places like Portland, and anywhere where there's
a burner scene, which somehow my music has slipped into the cracks of.
There are hula hoops, there are glow sticks, and there are girls dancing.
AB: Not a bad combo. Circling back to the equipment you don't want
to bring on stage, what kind of instruments, or programs, or even simply
ideas, did you use for Interludes After Midnight that you hadn't used
before?
B: I pretty much stick with what I know. I've been using the same
sampler since '95, an ASR-10, and I've been using Ableton for the past five
years, and my friend Damien Paris always plays live instruments. I like
working within a small spectrum as far as how I create. I don't like to
overwhelm myself with too much equipment. I bought a Slim Phatty Moog. I'm
into it a little bit, but for the most part it's just me working within my
little bubble. This way I know what I'm doing with everything. I don't have
an instrument where I'm like "Wow this could be cool if I knew how to play
it, but since I don't let me just use it to the minimal effect." I know a
lot of producers who do that kind of shit and it just doesn't seem to pan
out too well.
AB: So other than the influence of public access television, how do
you feel this album differs from your previous efforts?
B: I just think it's a constant growing. I've just been changing
from album to album in the sense that I'm refining everything I do. My
albums have gotten more and more dense and filled with different sounds.
The way the songs are put together is more ADD now than it's ever been. If
you like this one part, it's changing, eight bars later it won't be there,
and this new thing comes in. The songs are this evolving mass, whereas on
my first couple albums it was a song with hook, chorus, bridge, break,
verse kind of thing. It was very typical of how songs are made. These are
just kind of meandering travels through different soundscapes. I've kind of
become that kind of guy where I have no patience for one thing looping over
and over again.
AB: You've broken the traditional song structure.
B: Yeah, that's basically what I was trying to say.
AB: Finally, what's the greatest high music has given you?
B: Listening to it, it would definitely be something that happened
when I was younger because I don't feel the same way about music that I
used to. I'm jaded by now. When I hear a song I love I still run it, and I
still get into it, but nothing will give me the feeling I got when... I
remember hearing Rob Base and DJ EZ Rock's "Joy and Pain" for the first
time when I was like ten and just being like "this is SO GOOD," and then
just runnin it over and over again, and getting the bumblebees in your
stomach just from hearing that kind of stuff. That kind of thing just
doesn't happen anymore to me because I'm old and I'm not that invested in
music in that sense anymore. Like I said, I'm jaded, but those old memories
of hearing something for the first time and just being blown away by it,
those are definitely my greatest moments in music. As far as making it,
it's when I'm working in the studio and something just clicks and I hear
the two things match up and I'm like "I got it!" I remember when I made the
beat for "Daylight" and I layered that flute I was like "oooh, that's
something! I don't know what that is, but it's something. That hits a
chord." Those kind of moments are always really satisfying and you can go
back to them and really feel like you created something special at that time.