"It too will be overtaken by the selling of soap": An Interview With ex-Squirrel Nut Zipper Tom Maxwell (con.)

Scott Thill

ST: What's the latest with Minor Drag? Is their sound different than your solo work and the Zips?
TM: The Minor Drag are defunct. Chris P left to go back to the Zips and was replaced, Ken turned all his attentions to the B-sides, and a couple of the guys live in Michigan and couldn't do it for free. I had a kid.

Our last gig was for a society benefit deal, and after a hideous old bat came windmilling up telling me it was TOO LOUD, I realized my probable legacy was writing non-threatening music for old people to schmooze over. In our salad days -- which was for about four months -- the Minor Drag were shit hot. They consisted of myself, Ken Mosher and Chris Phillips from the Zips, Tom Loncaric -- who had played piano and pipe organ on Samsara -- Dave Roof, a friend of Tom's on trumpet a occasional guitar -- a beautiful guy, Robert Sledge, who's tenure with Ben Folds Five was rapidly terminating, and Holly Harding Baddour on vocals. She also sang on the record. Occasionally, I'd do a couple gospel numbers with the Remember Quartet, who were also on the record. That was a dream come true, singing, "Soon one morning/Death comes creeping in the room/Crying o my lord o my lord, what shall I do?" to astonished NYC crowds.

About half the set was Zips numbers I wrote, but we were much more aggressive, until Holly came up, when we could get pin-drop quiet. Really, the whole thing was "Zippers my way," but on a good night we were better than they ever were. Even Ken said so. I still have a couple of unfinished Minor Drag songs in the vaults. I have every intention of getting up with Robert to finish them, but where does the time go?

Isn't Swing dead?

Digital Club Network did simulcast one show (without Holly), and has made it available online. Now they're talking about pressing CD's of it you can buy online. The recording is primitve, but it's the only glimpse people who didn't see us can get of what we were about, and I'm damn proud of it.

The Twin Zippers, Tom and Jimbo. "I was a hothead and a loudmouth -- a magic combination," says Tom.

ST: What the hell happened to the Squirrel Nut Zippers for those still in the dark? Was it just the situation with Mammoth and Disney or problems with the band that prompted you to decide to go solo? Are you still friends with any of them, or have you all just gone your separate ways?
TM: I was, for my part, a hothead and a loudmouth -- a magic combination. Interband relationships were massively strained -- I needed lots of refreshments to get on the bus, and years of stony silence had made me a real prick. Apparently, the worst thing I could have done for band harmony was write the hit, despite splitting up the publishing from it. We were being sued. There was a lot of pressure on Perennial Favorites which, although it went Gold in a month, was considered something of a failure for not topping Hot. The label had gone completely batty because of their relationship with the Mouse, and were pulling some shitty behind the scenes stunts, and Jim and Katharine shut down the Perennial Favorites cycle pretty much to work Katharine's solo record, which she had denied even doing when asked by those who didn't know about it.

If you asked those two, the label was almost thrilled about our shutting down, but when I took a meeting with the VP a couple weeks after the decision to "take time off," he screamed at me! "Why the fuck are you guys killing this record?" What could I say? "I can neither explain or understand this course of action." I was furious, and planned Samsara so I wouldn't sit around for six or eight months with my thumbs up my ass. I had tons of meetings with the label about every little detail of the record. They thought it was great. But they wouldn't play ball in negotiating a separate deal for it. One time, the label lawyer told my lawyer that they had no problems giving me what I was asking for -- which wasn't the moon -- but they were balking because "Katharine signed such a shitty deal," and how would it look?

When they told me to kill the pipe organ songs, it was the proverbial straw. I took a hard look at how miserable I was in the band, decided I was only in it for the money, and bailed. I also knew that my leaving would kick in a clause in my recording contract forcing Mammoth to either give me $100K for Samsara or drop me. They dropped me, and I left with ownership of the masters and publishing -- the most power any musician can have. I must say that my relationship with Mammoth improved tremendously after we separated -- they really were very cool about it. I was scared shitless. Terrible freedom!

Postcards from the edge. "I'm thankful to those people for that experience, thrilled at many of the memories, and am glad as hell I'm out."

I can truly say that I'm not friends with anybody in the band anymore, and I'm only friendly with a couple of them. That's really sad. It was almost like everything associated with that band had to be utterly annihilated after my departure: friendships, the money, the label (Disney fired almost all of them) . . . everything. It really underscores the dream-like quality of that experience. When you wake up, it's all gone. It was very much like high school -- I learned a lot, it was clique-ish and often mean, there was a lot of hilarity and hell-raising, I couldn't quite believe there was life after it, and I still fucking dream about being back in it!

I thought I was headed for college, but ended up flipping burgers!

There's not enough money in the world for me to go back. Actually, there is enough money in the world, and there's even some dump trucks big enough to transport enough of it to my house in order for me to say yes! I'm thankful to those people for that experience, thrilled at many of the memories, and am glad as hell I'm out.

ST: Tell us the Red Shoe Diaries/Zippers story.
TM: That's a doozy. My memories are vague, as usual. Somebody said that an HBO show wanted to use Zippers music. Great! Most of us didn't even have a TV! We went down to their soundstage, and toured the set. Looked like somebody's living room. It was fun. Then we went and met the director (Zalman King? Is that the dude's name?) and he told us how perfect our music was for his stuff. Awesome! I mean, soundtrack stuff is fat money for shit you've already done.

Some actress came in wearing a bath robe. She was not unattractive, but heavily made up. You know, television. "Oh, I LOVE your music!" she purred. It was kind of oily, but we were in L.A. after all. Later, I was in the editing booth and the guy was putting together a scene with this couple fucking in a helicopter. Out in the parking lot, I asked the label rep if that show was always soft porn. Katharine was traumatized, looked like she was about to throw up. Let's just say that stuff is not her cup of tea. We politely told them no, but it's fine for people to make that kind of stuff. I'll take it anyday over the ceaseless meanness and gun-toting that makes it onto network TV.

ST: Does the world need the optimism and energy of jazz, swing or other music that cannot necessarily be pigeonholed more than ever right now? What is it about that music that makes metal heads and Britney fans uncomfortable? Can't we all just get along?
TM: The world needs optimism and energy right now, period. Especially now. Swing music was easily pigeonholed, because most of it was lame, boat-anchor dress-up wallpaper made by people who understood how to sell soap a hell of a lot better than us! We also need a good dose of our own history and the occasional reminder of what makes our culture great. I don't think Britney or most metal bands gave a shit, because for the most part musicians can understand and appreciate almost anything. Radio hated it, every step of the way.

Code red -- David Lynch would love those curtains. "I look on the whole swing movement as being a shame and an almost total loss," says Tom.

We never wanted to be a "swing" band, with it's attendant limited shelf life, but were credited initially with starting it -- a bone that a lot of people who actually wanted that title fought over. When we released "Perennial," radio told us they wouldn't play it because there were no swing songs on it! There was at least one station that tried to foment a feud between ourselves and the Cherry Poppin' Daddies. I called their manager and told them to crank up his bullshit detector, but I still think they wondered what our problem with them was. I never had a problem with them, and would have bought the first round had we ever hooked up. I don't own their record, but who cares?

I look on the whole swing movement as being a shame and an almost total loss. So much promise of diversity and subtlety. I couldn't wait to put an end to the era of self-important shoe gazing and self loathing! How boring can you get? The whole thing will be barely mentioned as an embarrasing anomaly, an aberrant back-step on the ladder of progress.

ST: Do you think there's something in American pop culture that avoids the complex musicality of swing, jazz, etc. because it is just too lazy to learn anything else than the requisite three chords for a pop song? Or is it still just a case of fear of the unknown?
TM: No, I think that American culture has rushed to embrace that kind of music for almost a century. It's only once you get into the bewildering, hookless territory of modern jazz that most people realize they're not invited into the clubhouse. All popular music is about having a good time and getting it on, or getting over it. The stuff I listen to from the 20s and 30s was wildly popular, and for good reason. Most of it. I also like the oddball stuff, too.

I always said I wanted my records to get the chance to be heard by as many people who could understand and enjoy it, not realizing the hideous and profane dance associated with broadbase exposure. Samsara never got out to a fraction of people who might have bought it, because I turned my back on the industry while still wanting to ride the ride. I don't think it was a matter of people not understanding it. A lot of consumers are constantly underestimated.

ST: The concept of Samsara has hit home in light of the recent political situation. What do you think Siddhartha would say about where we are right now? Desire and dissatisfaction always seem to be the central thesis of our ideological conflicts.
TM: It's funny, I just read Old Path White Clouds, by Thich Nhat Hanh. Essentially, it's a biography of the Buddha. I think he would say exactly what he said two thousand or so years ago -- that we're ruled by our desires, which are born of ignorance. That our misunderstanding of the inter-relatedness of all living things allows us to tend to prejudice. That violence has never erased violence. Nothing about human nature has changed, so his message is still relevant.

I understand all that, but after the monstrous acts committed on 9/11, I wanted to see some old school ass kickin'.

In some ways, one can look on the teachings of the Buddha as a kind of luxury which most people can't afford. That is, unless everbody feels that way. Then things would be so great people would be miserable!

ST: Describe some of the cultural texts that get your imagination fired up.
TM: Oh man -- Night of the Hunter, the original Three Penny Opera, Max Fleischer cartoons, Fats Waller pipe organ sides . . . it's not possible for me to list it all. Mostly, I'm fired up when I hear something real done by somebody who means it.

ST: How does the creative process begin with you? Does it happen on an instrument first, or do you take the snatches of lyric in your head and meld them with the instrument second?
TM: Both. Mostly I work on some changes and improvise several melodies until one presents itself as being best, and then proceed with the lyric.

ST: What instrument do you find you do your best work on, feel the most comfortable with? What new insturments are you noodling with these days?
TM: My normal instrument is guitar for songwriting. I've been teaching myself piano and have written a couple on that, too. But, like guitar, I play like a twelve-year-old: very excited, with a serious dearth of technical ability.

ST: Compare the Shatner of T.J. Hooker with the Shatner of Star Trek. It is really just all about the sex with him?
TM: Greatness with greatness! Both characters are ceaselessly self-important and swaggering, taking their alpha-male status for granted. Both have a slight, off-kilter womanliness about them. All hail the great Shatner!

I loved that stuff on his site about his favorite Star Trek episode being the one where his body is taken over by an evil woman. He was pure genius in that -- it really doesn't get any better. Maybe the Grammies from the mid-70s where he does Rocket Man. My God. I could honestly watch that every day. That guy can do anything.

ST: Now that the dotcom disaster has helped spawn an economic recession, is any of the pre-disaster optimism regarding the Net as a playing-field leveller going to survive? And how has running your own label partially through your site changed your mind about the biz, if at all?
TM: There is still no doubt in my mind that the Net is the way things are gonna go, just as there was no doubt back in '98/'99 that people were putting way too much into it in terms of something happening overnight. It too will be overtaken by the selling of soap, and people will find another way to communicate honestly, which will then itself be co-opted.

Dharma wheels keep spinning.

Scott Thill -- a media fanatic who finds the time to write on everything that does not include the words "boy band" -- is a gainfully employed dotcom editor currently finishing his first novel, The Dangerous Perhaps.