Danny Seim is the drummer from Menomena, he is also a drumming genius. Not for his technicality, though has that; nor for his energy and use of dynamics, though he has those as well. I think Danny Seim is a drumming genius because he knows where to put what. Drum beats fit at the perfect place at the perfect time. He is not like every other “indie” drummer you see that plays the same beat over and over. He’s an artist with the drums as a pianist is an artist with his keys. He gives some magically delicious tips for musicians on songwriting. My favorite part? The DFC Litmus Test.
Confused? Read on…
Danny Seim: Thanks for your interest in interviewing us for your website. I’ll do my best to answer any questions you might have via email.
IndieView: Thanks so much! Feel free to answer the questions as MEATILY as youd like.. full of meat. Here’s the first question…
What do you think it is that makes something catchy? What is it in music that makes something “good” as opposed to “bad?” Hypothetically, could someone follow some method and come out with a great song just by following certain steps?
Danny: Great way to start the interview… I was all ready to cut and paste one of our increasingly boring answers to the The Dreaded Muppets Question, and you totally flipped the script on me! So, here goes. It’s extremely difficult to pinpoint the exact formula for making something (or for avoiding making something) “good”, “bad”, or “catchy”. People’s response to music is such an individually specific thing. I’m sure someone out there (with a far greater grasp on music theory than I) knows the exact equation for writing something that will resonate with a huge, multi- genre-appreciating audience. One person to talk to would be Max Martin, who most recently penned Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone”. Actually, that would have been a much better way to start the answer to your question. Give me another try here… Ahem, Kelly Clarkson’s “Since U Been Gone (SUBG)” is the best example of a recent song that not only blurred the line between fans of different music genres; it also blurred the line between what is essentially good and bad about modern pop music. Okay, so now I have to attempt to follow that up with some kind of rational evidence? Let me listen to the song again really quick. Let’s see… Which version do I pick on my iTunes here… Live in Sydney? Performed “In the Studio” for AOL roadband? Live on the 2005 MTV Awards? Performing on Saturday Night Live 02/12/05: Season 30, Episode 12? The “Rolling Stone Magazine’s Original” version? The “Kidz Bop” children singing version? For the purpose of this answer, I should probably just stick with Ms Clarkson’s album version (which was originally intended to be recorded by Hilary Duff but her vocals were ultimately deemed unworthy. Thank God).
Now I’ve just finished listening to that song for the trillionth time and yes, with my anti-irony goggles firmly in place, I still have to concede that SUBG is brilliant. In a weird sort of way though. Not “weird” like Jandek or Animal Collective. And not “brilliant” like um (playing it safe here), The White Album. SUBG is brilliant because it defies being pigeonholed into what I normally would deem brilliant. Not that I’m some definitive judge of What All Ye Shall Consider Brilliant or anything. I’m just talking about the illegally downloaded shit that’s on my freaking iPod here. SUBG is brilliant because I can fit my mood around it, instead of having to fit it around my mood. SUBG is brilliant because it is still listenable after being severely overexposed (see multiple versions in above paragraph). Most of all, SUBG is brilliant because it remains an amazing song after being performed by a girl who lucked into a career when Americans voted her the winner of a prime time televised talent show and who is now on a giant corporate blood sucking major label after spending zero hours “sweating it out” in smelly unattended dive bars like the rest of us “credible indie artists” trying to “pay our dues” by actually writing our own music instead of hiring some songwriting team with a horrific name like The Matrix for millions of dollars so that we can actually sell more than a few hundred CD’s and thus afford to go on big tours in fancy plush buses while praying that our original fanbase doesn’t scream “sellout!” and eventually come to hate us like Liz Phair… I could go on for hours about why everything Kelly Clarkson represents is wrong, wrong, WRONG… Then I listen to her song again. And all of these ethical speedbumps dissolve into a beautiful, computer-tuned vocal melody generously layered over perfect chord- changing guitars with just the right amount of cymbals mixed in to rock you into a state of slightly-embarrassed euphoria. I digress.
IndieView: I like that you mention Kelly Clarkson because most alternative musicians would always be against some pop song, but I have a firm belief that people should not bias towards genre, but the music that perverts the genre. Anyway, I guess the next best question to ask would be: What is your songwriting process/method? And is it more premeditated or spontaneous?
Danny: Brent wrote a simple computer program called Deeler that allows the three of us to simultaneously write and record spontaneously. It basically starts with a metronome click, and we pass the mic around the room to each of our instruments and play to the beat for a few measures. Deeler automatically loops the recording and we can then take turns layering more and more loops of different instruments on top of the original loop until we’ve got a good collage of sound going. One of us then takes all of these individual loops apart on a separate occasion and rearranges them into a more linear song format, usually adding vocals and melodies in the process. We all then re-learn the song in the newly arranged format and add it to our catalogue. The process starts out spontaneous and ends up premeditated… If that makes any sense.
IndieView: I have this belief that some melodies are made and some are meant to be discovered, in other words, they have always been there, floating around waiting for someone to find it and have it heard, it gives that feeling as if you’ve heard it before, like deja vu except with your ears. That is what I strive for when making music. The Police had a knack for doing it (So Lonely, Every Little Thing), the chorus of Come Together by The Beatles, or the chorus to Bodies by The Smashing Pumpkins (”..Love is suicidddee..”) are some examples that where I hear it. Am I crazy or is this something that other musicians hear? If so, do you try to achieve this “always been” sound with your music?
Danny: That’s really an interesting belief. I’ve never really put much thought into it. I guess you could say that one of our goals as a band is to create that “always been” sort of melodic sound you described. It’s definitely something to strive for, but sometimes it’s best when it just happens without putting any sort of formula (like we talked about before) into it.
It probably also has a lot to do with the way in which you write your music. I’ve never had much luck writing lyrics and a melody first and then adding chord progressions. I’m always impressed when I hear someone saying something romantic like they dreamt the melody, or the melody “just came to them” as they were walking along a deserted beach. I have a hard time believing that I’ve come up with an original melody unless I’ve first convinced myself that the music underneath this melody is somewhat original.
Now that we’re living fifty years past the birth of rock and roll, it’s becoming more and more difficult to pull melodies out of the air and have them sound completely unique and true. It’s hard not to wonder what it would have been like to be writing rock songs in the early 60s. As inarguably talented as the Beatles were, and even though they obviously weren’t the first artists to write a pop melody, they composed their music in an era where it was much easier to put a good vocal tune to a good instrumental arrangement and have it sound brilliantly groundbreaking.
IndieView: What are the goals you have in your writing, aside from “making the best thing you can,”? What are your goals for an entire album? Some concept, a set of great songs, must they be totally congruent with each other to be considered an album or at least hold some connection to eachother, or not at all?
Danny: (sorry for the delay on this one – we’re finally moving into the final stages of mixing this new record!), When we first started writing this upcoming record, Brent said something along the lines of, “If any song on this CD doesn’t make the listener want to Dance, Fuck, or Cry, then it’s not worth releasing”. We sort of joke about it now, but I’ve realized that it’s a pretty darn good way to judge any album in your record collection: The DFC Litmus Test… You heard it here first.
It’s hard though, because there are all sorts of individual levels of D, F, or C that a song can inspire within the listener. Who’s to say how little of each of these levels warrants a song’s omission from the album’s final tracklist? That’s the sort of intense stuff that we’re dealing with now. A lot of bands have nasty heroin habits or problems with the authorities. Menomena worries about not making people want to copulate while sobbing and doing the Macarena.
Best,
Danny
