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| Photo by Timothy R. Valencia |
Last Tuesday, I had a chance to sit down and chat with Jim Ward before his show at DC9 in Washington D.C. Ward has devoted half of his 35 years on Earth to music, writing, recording, and touring as a member of At the Drive-In, Sparta, and Sleepercar. He is a man rich with passion, listening to his heart in all that he does. Despite the impact he's had in music and the successes he's managed, Ward remains down-to-earth with roots still firmly planted in his hometown of El Paso, TX. He's the type of person that is willing to take chances to see his dreams come true, pursuing what he truly loves in life. Currently, he is touring behind his latest release Quiet In the Valley, On the Shores The End Begins, a collection of his three solo EPs from the past few years. We talked about the new album, his work ethic, working with Al Jourgensen, LCD Soundsystem, Discord, and much more.
Interview by Quinn S.
Mixtape Muse: How’s the tour been going – aside from yesterday’s little van accident?
Jim Ward: It’s good! It was just a little fender – well a little more than a fender bender.
MM: Well, a perfect way to start off your birthday.
JW: Yeah, yeah it was. It was about an hour and a half into my birthday and we took a hit from the old man failing to yield. It is what it is.
MM: Since Sparta went on hiatus in 2008, Sleepercar had been your main musical focus. What made you decide to package your past three solo EPs into one album with Quiet In the Valley, On the Shores The End Begins as opposed to working on another Sleepercar record? I remember seeing something like “Bet on the Ponies” on the Sleepercar website last year.
JW: Sort of scrapped all that. I decided to finish the third EP, knowing that if I finished the third EP that I would put out the trilogy. If I put out the trilogy, I’d tour for it and then I could put it to bed. And if I put that to bed, then maybe I could finally sort of focus on the Sleepercar stuff. Now, it’s going to be Sleepercar and Sparta. So, we’ll see how soon it comes out.
And we’ve been building these places [Hope and Anchor, a bar; Tricky Falls, a concert venue] in El Paso, you know, and it takes up more time and energy than you think it would. But at the same time, they’re sort of funding all the other stuff that we’re doing. It’s become a strange balance.
MM: So, was it a plan then to release these EPs like this a few years ago?
Yeah, yeah. When I started the second one in 2009, I knew I would do a third one. I knew at that point that they would all be released at the same time. The only addition to that plan was that we put out The Electric Six. I knew I didn’t want to tour by myself with a guitar, because I just get really tired of me. There’s nobody to play off of and there’s no band dynamic. I knew that I wouldn’t be happy. I’ve been doing a lot of the promo for this stuff by myself, and I’m so glad that I did The Electric Six. I can play, like tonight, a little bit acoustic-y in the front and then a little bit louder at the end – still not full-blown chaos or anything.
MM: So the title of the album is just all the EP titles strung together, but does it hold any special significance for you?
JW: It was a challenge in knowing that I was going to do that [combine the EPs]. So, when I made Quiet, I only made Quiet gutturally – it’s called Quiet because it was quiet compared to what I’d been doing. And then I think at the time I thought, “Well I’ll do an EP called Quiet and then I’ll make sort of a solo rock EP called Loud or something.” That was kind of my idea. But then I’m really only good in bands, I’m not gonna make a solo record. You know what I mean? I’ll make something quiet, that makes sense to me, but not something like a big loud record because I don’t want to do that by myself. When I started making the second one, I knew that there would be a third one. So, when I made the second one the trick was to title it in a way that would span, and then also to make the music in a way that would span between Quiet and what would end it. I sort of wrote the last song of everything really early on, and I knew it would be about the end – or about the beginning of the end – and that it would end on a full-blown rock thing. Other than that, it was all just kind of making it up. Really the meaning to me is just the challenge of making this all in pieces knowing some day I’d want to arrange them in a certain way, and then still be spontaneous about it in a weird way.
MM: The themes of your music seem to deal with having a strong sense of self in terms of your past and how that helps you take control of, or shape, your future – that or struggling with the past/not running from the past. Even the bar you opened a few years ago, Hope and Anchor, kind of nods to that idea – “hope” for better things ahead, “anchored” in…
JW: In reality, is what I always say; sort of this ambition, but being tied down to Earth and humility. It’s my personality. I’m not a glass half empty or half full type of person, sometimes I veer into the glass shattered on the ground. I mean I’m a Virgo; I’m dramatic and I’m overly emotional about a lot of things. That’s where my writing always kind of comes from, and most of it’s fiction. It’s just sort of the way I see the world.
MM: Yeah, I was curious about whether or not it was fiction.
JW: Yeah, I like, I like the darker side of life. People always get on me about writing sad songs, but, for me, that’s what I like. I like to write these sad, gloomy, big anthem sort of songs.
MM: I see that, but I don’t know. There are also undertones suggesting themes of overcoming or rising up.
JW: Yeah! It’s all about redemption. I love writing about struggle and redemption – but personal, not necessarily political redemption or societal redemption. It’s more of like a “you’ve taken a wrong path, you have the power to make your life better” sort of thing. It's the hopeful side of sadness.
MM: Finding the light in the dark.
JW: Yeah, yeah. It’s just a thing. I like being bummed out and I like listening to The Smiths [Laughs]. But also I grew up with this city [D.C.] being a big influence on my music with the crew that came out of here. So, it was kind of a weird dichotomy between that and this sort of hopeful rise against – not the band – sort of thing.
MM: Yeah, I was actually going to ask who was highly influential on your music. Kind of going off of that, I remember trying to learn “Cut Your Ribbon” and “Breaking the Broken” years ago and just feeling perplexed trying to figure out how you were approaching the guitar, as the chords were a bit unconventional, kind of unique.
JW: I can’t play barre chords.
MM: Really?
JW: No. That’s why all my chords are the way they are. Because to play barre chords I have to play the guitar up here [motions up to his chest] and it just doesn’t look cool. So I wanted to play down here [pretends to strum a guitar just below his waist; Laughs].
MM: You used to wear it really low back in At the Drive-In.
JW: Oh, yeah! For sure. Yeah, I had these straps that were made for me in At the Drive-In that were just stupid long. I mean you couldn’t even adjust them. Some of them were just pre-made long.
MM: Yeah, even in Sparta when you were playing the Gibson ES-335 you were wearing that so low.
JW: Well, I mean I have super long arms and I’m super tall. Well, not super tall, but yeah.
MM: [Laughs] Same here.
JW: Yeah. For me to play it low is just natural. [Pretending to strum a guitar] I like a big G [chord], I don’t like a barre chord necessarily. I’m not a great guitar player, I’m a writer. If I was ever playing with someone and they were like “Take a solo” I would just laugh hysterically [Laughs]. I don’t know the first thing about it. But that’s never been what I am. I’m a rhythm player and a writer. Fine, I’m a little bit lazy; I just don’t like barre chords. But it kind of helped, I think.
MM: I think it kind of defined your playing in many ways.
JW: Yeah. Gabe [Gonzalez] calls it “The Jim Chord,” which is just the C moving up and down the neck [of the guitar], just playing with it. Instead of playing a full A barre, if you just take where the A – where the A would be, the root – and then just play the very top one right there [forming a chord with his left hand, motions towards the position of his middle finger] and then you move it down a half-step and it’s a minor. You can do that shit up and down the neck for days. And open strings leave big, weird harmonics and they sound cool. Then you have 14 delay pedals on, what does it matter anyways? It’s chaos.
MM: Yeah, it’s awesome; Controlled chaos.
JW: Mhmmm.
MM: Going back to Sparta, you guys are reconvening to work on a new record. Do you have any idea right now where you guys are headed?
JW: It’s heavy. Right now there’s stuff being thrown back and forth, and it’s heavy.
MM: Would that have anything to do with an interview you did a few years ago where you said you wanted to make a really heavy record, find a new level of heavy? You mentioned working on it with Al Jourgensen of Ministry.
JW: Yeah, that was my plan. I wanted to start a band with him called the Mothafuckin’ Wolves, and I still want to around that idea. But he sort of disappeared from my world. I see him every now and then, but he’s not really playing so much anymore.
MM: So, he’s not the third guitarist in Sparta?
JW: [Laughs] He’s not the third guitar player in Sparta, no. Definitely not. I think he’s actually moving to Chicago again, if he hasn’t already moved. I haven’t seen him around town [in El Paso]. I know he’s trying to sell his house. We’ll see. Maybe one day. I mean, I have to find somebody new to start the heaviest band ever with. It would have been cool though, right?
MM: Oh, yeah. Definitely.
JW: I sang on a Ministry song. That’s where it all started. I just went by his house and sang back-ups when they made the Rio Grande Blood record. It was fun. But your voice goes through so many vocal processors that when you’re done you sound like [Al]. I mean you don’t even need me, I sound just like you now [Laughs]. But, hey, I got to sing on a Ministry record.
MM: Right. How many people get to say that?
JW: Not very many. And he made a record with Ian [MacKaye]. You know that record? The Pailhead record?
MM: I’ve heard of it, but I haven’t actually heard it.
JW: Oh my God. Find it. Fucking amazing! Seriously. It’s Al Jourgensen and Ian Mackaye. It’s fucking rad! I don’t think that many people know about it.
That was kind of my idea for the Mothafuckin’ Wolves to be in the Pailhead arena, just heavier. Darker.
MM: Naturally. In line with who you are.
JW: Yeah, exactly.
MM: You’ve certainly been involved with a variety of genres over your career, whether it be post-hardcore with At the Drive-In and Sparta, Americana/alt country with Sleepercar, folk with your solo material. Is there any particular style of music you haven’t played with that you’d like to play with down the road?
JW: I’ve been hanging out with this guy named Zeale, who is sort of this underground MC from Austin. We have some mutual friends. He’s wildly talented. I think a project with him is the next thing I want to look at. I really want to make at least one song with him. He loves Radiohead, but he’s a straight battle rapper. You can go online and find him in these battles, and he’s ridiculous. There’s a certain arch of his profession that I’m not a fan of, like certain words that don’t fit into my sort of political correctness [Laughs]. But I think there’s a place where we could both find some common ground, somewhere where Radiohead or Pink Floyd or whatever meets this underground thing.
He makes these really cool mash-ups, and I just want to help him write some original stuff. It’s Z-e-a-l-e. You should look him up. He’s fucking rad. I saw him in Austin a few weeks ago, and we talked about him coming to my studio in El Paso, maybe spending a few days there. When we talk about it, he says, “Yeah, all we need is a bunch of instruments there, and you can make sounds and I can direct you into what I hear in my head.” And that to me sounds like the most exciting thing.
MM: Oh, absolutely.
JW: It’s really him producing me, making music for him. So with a bunch of instruments, we can start free jamming within ProTools or whatever. Between me and Gabe, we can take one or two drummers from El Paso and all sit in a room and go for it. I’m really interested to see how that works. To me, that’s fascinating.
I did a record with a poet where I did all the music [2006’s How Will We Know When We’re Dead? with Bobby Byrd]. I loved that concept, as well, and I want to make another record with him.
I’m really interested in the sort of hip hop mash-up with indie rock, but not so much dance.
MM: So we can’t expect a Jim Ward club track?
JW: Probably not. Maybe. Who knows? I don’t know. I mean I love LCD Soundsystem. To me that’s almost like an indie rock guy that struck on some really danceable stuff. I love listening to that shit. Seven minutes of that and you don’t even notice it’s seven minutes. That shit’s amazing. The first thing I heard from him was “Daft Punk Is Playing At My House” and I was like, “This is a punk rock song.” Really. I’m a fan.
I don’t know, I mean we always said in At the Drive-In that we’ll never be put in a space that we can’t get out of; we’ll always be allowed to make whatever record we want. And I think it’s been that way for pretty much all the members, to go on and do whatever we want to do. Whether successful or not, everybody’s just doing shit, which I think is cool.
Part 2 of my conversation with Jim Ward will be up tomorrow.
1 comment:
Cool.
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