On doing the things you’d like to see other people do

You get up early in the morning to write music. When did that start, and why is it important to you to do it that way?

I definitely get up early, but it’s never a solid, particularly hardcore regime. I do get up early and usually write stuff every day, but it can vary. If I’m home, I’ll do something around the house, and then maybe go play golf and then be back around noon, then work on some guitar stuff. And usually if I’m playing guitar, I’m writing songs. I’m not just practicing playing guitar. So, that’s usually how that ends up happening, and I really can’t do it any other way. I just have to write a whole bunch of crap to find stuff that’s actually any good. It’s not like I sit down and only write good stuff. Most of it’s not good. That’s how it works—you have to force your way through it.

Do you know right away if something’s not working, or is it more of a feeling of, “This isn’t great right now, but maybe it could be something”?

Yeah, that’s more like it. And then stuff will sit there for a long time without being finished. I’ve said this before, but when you put a new album out and people think it’s new stuff, well, it’s actually not new. Some of it’s new—all of it’s new to you—but I actually wrote this a long time ago. Or at least the first half of it, and could never figure out what to do with it until later.

How close to finished does a song need to be before you get together with Dale to work on it?

I’ll make demos first, but I make fairly primitive demos. I don’t like spending a lot of time on demos. I’d rather put that effort towards when we actually record it. And plus, you don’t want to spend too much time on a demo and then have it be something that you fall in love with and then you want to replicate the demo. You don’t want to get too used to something that sounds too good, then blindsides you into what it’s going to sound like with the band. Most of my demos don’t have drums on them or anything. [Melvins drummer] Dale [Crover] will have some idea about what I want to do for drums, and then we’ll take it from there.

Do you play guitar every day, or do you make a point of taking breaks?

I don’t really take breaks. At my house, I’m pretty much ready to play anytime. I’ll just pick it up and go. I’ve got a lot of guitars I use in the studio or at home, but those aren’t ones I would play live because I need a specific thing for live. But I use all kinds of different guitars in the studio. On the Bad Mood Rising record, I kept track of every guitar and every effect and everything I used on every song. I’ll have to put that out sometime. I don’t think people would believe it.

So many guitar players tend to be gearheads and very particular about certain amps, guitars, or strings. It seems like you’re more open to experimentation, though.

I can make almost anything work. We’re at the point now, after all these albums, I could probably go in the studio and just use whatever gear they had there and still make a record without too much trouble. But live, I like to play a Les Paul style with the switch in the top, because I use it during the whole show. I use the three-position switch for three different sounds on the guitar without having to stomp on a lot of pedals for that. I’m really used to playing that way live, so I need it in that situation. But for the studio or writing songs, it doesn’t really matter. I like a variety of different guitars. I’ll have three or four guitars at any given time set up, ready to go, and then each of them will play different. And I’ll write a different kind of song on a certain guitar than I would on another guitar. I think each guitar has its own stories in it, and you’ll play different on it. I heard that somewhere, and I really liked that idea. Every guitar has its own stories.

You’ve made a ton of Melvins albums, you’ve done solo records, you’ve played in other bands, and you’re a photographer. Do you have a creative philosophy that you bring to all of those things?

Yeah, I guess so. It’s like Andy Warhol said: “While they’re figuring out the last thing you did, do more work.” I’m not very precious with that kind of thing. Do you want to be a photographer? Take pictures, and it doesn’t matter what kind. People get so caught up in this digital versus analog thing. I think it’s a mistake. My photography only got better with digital. I can see exactly what I just took. I don’t have to wait two weeks. I’m not building a fucking darkroom in my house, just like I’m not buying a two-inch Studer tape machine to use at home. I’m not going to do it. People have to get over that. “Well, it’s not real photography.” What is real photography? Just by using a film camera, you’re taking great pictures? What the fuck are you talking about?

They get so caught up, but that whole thing has nothing to do with creativity. My wife is a graphic designer, and she said she doesn’t give a shit how you do it if it’s good. If you just care about the medium, then you’re worrying about something that is not about art.

Have you always felt that way, or did you arrive at that conclusion through experience?

I’ve always loved photography, but I could never afford it. You have to buy film all the time and get it processed. And when you shoot a roll of film, you get one good picture or maybe nothing, because you can’t see. Once digital came along, I could see exactly what I was doing. So, what I do when I take pictures is I delete as I go. I don’t take 50 pictures and then try to decide. No, I decide right then. I want this one; delete the rest. I want that one; delete the rest. I don’t want to look through 100 pictures.

I spend a lot of time talking about what makes a good image because I’ve lived with a graphic designer for the last 30-plus years. We’ve spent a lot of time talking about why certain art or photography or movies are good. Even billboards: Why does this billboard work and that one doesn’t work? And, of course, album covers and so on. It’s really helped me as far as my perception of what a good picture is. But I was always pretty good at taking pictures for some reason. I don’t know why. But you can take a good picture with any camera. It’s not how you do it; it’s what you’re doing. I firmly believe that I can make a good recording with any kind of medium. We always laugh: Digital versus analog? I can make a recording with either.

You’ve worked in several musical collaborations over the years. The Melvins have had many lineups, you’ve played in Fantômas and Venomous Concept, and you’ve made guest appearances on other people’s records. But you’ve also made solo albums. What do you see as the pros and cons of collaborating versus working by yourself?

Well, Fantômas was not a collaboration. I just did whatever Mike [Patton] wanted me to do. I would’ve happily collaborated with him, but he had no interest in that. I added nothing to that stuff. His deal is, he’s very precious about the maestro type of situation: “I wrote all this, I did this.” And it’s like, “Okay, great.” It was nice to not write anything, but if it had been a collaboration, I think it would’ve only benefited. But I wasn’t asked what my opinion was on anything, so I didn’t bother offering. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable doing that. He invited me into this situation. I knew exactly what it was from the beginning, and I just left it that way.

But we did a new thing with Napalm Death, and I brought in songs, those guys brought in songs, and it was a true collaboration. I played guitar, bass—I played a bunch of different things on a wide variety of songs, as do they. I don’t even remember who played what, because a lot of it was done about a year ago. But that was a true collaboration where we really wrote songs together. So that was cool.

With the Melvins, I’m always happy to hear what they’re doing. I’ll make a suggestion, like, “I think maybe this bass part should be like this,” and then let Steven [McDonald] elaborate on it. That’s fine with me. He can make it better. I heard Bowie said something to Adrian Belew when Belew joined Bowie’s band: “Play the songs like this or make them better.” I agree.

I’m very much an accidentalist, too. I might think I know what I want, but then when I hear it a certain way, I go, “No, that’s better.” You have to be smart enough to know when to change things. You also have to be smart enough to know when a song is done. Because you can overcook it to where you’ve flung the life out of it completely. And it will sound like that on the recording.

How long did it take you to figure that out?

When we did our first few records, all we ever did was rehearse because there was nothing else to do. But I think that if we redid those songs now, we would do a much better job because it wouldn’t be over-thought. There’re songs on our records that we’ve rehearsed and songs we haven’t rehearsed. I dare you to try to figure out what’s what. There’re songs that we learned the same day we recorded them, as well as ones that we rehearsed a lot. And you can’t tell the difference.

The Melvins have had many lineup changes over the years. Some have been out of necessity, and some have been in the spirit of doing something different. In fact, a lot of what you do seems to be in the spirit of trying things a different way. Why is that important to you rather than, say, the Ramones or AC/DC approach of finding your thing and sticking with it?

It’s more like I behave in a way that I would appreciate other bands behaving. A lot of people hate it, but I really appreciated when Metallica did that album with Lou Reed. To me, it might be their best record. I think it’s really good. I’d heard so many bad things about it, I thought it was going to be terrible. When I heard it, I was like, “This actually doesn’t sound bad at all. I kind of like this.” I mean, do I need another straight Metallica record? Probably not.

But I can handle a lot of weird stuff. It doesn’t bother me. Pink Floyd doing Atom Heart Mother or Obscured by Clouds, those records don’t bother me at all. Or Meddle: “Echoes” takes up one whole side of the album. Is that a bad thing? Well, it’s different, but is it bad? No. It might be one of the best things they ever did—if not the best thing they ever did. Is it a hit single? No, but for some reason hit singles are a certain way, and I don’t understand that, either. None of it makes any sense to me.

When you say that you’re doing what you’d like to hear other bands do, do you also mean challenging yourself?

Well, it’s what I do. I make music for a living. I’m a professional musician, and so I feel like that’s what I should do. If you compare me to everybody else, then yeah, I look like I’m an incredible workaholic. But it might just be because they don’t do much at all. Most of them are sitting around doing nothing or taking decades between records. Even with five years between records, it’s like, “What were you doing that whole time? Isn’t this what you do?” I write songs and play guitar and sing and record albums and play live. I don’t find it to be that overbearing and that difficult. I’m not sure what the problem is most of the time. I think a lot of it has to do with laziness, lifestyle—things like that, I would guess.

You mentioned Metallica earlier. They started two years before the Melvins did. They’ve got 11 studio albums and you guys have 32. There’re clearly two different mentalities at work here.

I’m only prolific in comparison to them. I don’t feel like it’s way over the top, personally. I think I could probably do more if I pushed myself. I think I could do two albums a year without any trouble at all. I don’t see why not. People are like, “You should work harder on the records.” Well, you should shut up. Why don’t you let me do the driving? I don’t remember asking you what you thought, anyway. If you don’t like our records, don’t buy them. You’ll be one of millions and millions of people in the world who don’t buy our records. So what?

On this new Melvins 1983 record, Thunderball, you’re working with Mike Dillard, the original Melvins drummer. The one before that was with Steven McDonald, Roy Mayorga and Dale Crover. Years before that, you had the guys from Big Business in the band. I imagine the lineup shifts are creatively stimulating, but does it ever feel like you’re starting over again with each new arrangement?

Maybe a little, but not too bad. I’m not afraid of that, either. If I’m going to make a Melvins 1983 record, I’m going to write songs specifically for that. I’ll figure out or look at songs that I have that would work in that scenario. With Melvins 1983, I can’t quite do the exact same thing I can with the regular Melvins. It’s not possible because he’s not physically capable of playing that stuff. I have to come up with things that he can do. But they’re still good. Difficult doesn’t mean it’s better. Some of our best songs, like “Night Goat,” aren’t particularly hard to play. It doesn’t mean one thing or another.

Have you ever experienced writer’s block?

No. Not ever. What you do is, you just play through it. You just keep doing it. I think writer’s block comes from people wanting to do something specific. “I have to do this.” No, you don’t. Do something else. If you can’t come up with songs, come up with some other idea. Just think of something. What do you want to do? Look back through your demos; figure it out. And that all falls into place eventually.

So, you prefer to push through and make something happen rather than walking away for a while and coming back to it?

Well, it’s both. I record stuff on my phone, just sound memos, and I think I have about 700 on there right now. And those are just little riffs and ideas. I could probably not ever write anything again and have enough to keep putting out albums, but new ideas keep coming. I’ve just got to go back through them. A lot of it, I don’t even remember doing. And that’s just on my phone. I have my little recording devices that are filled with stuff, too. If I lost my phone or I lost all those recording devices? Oh, well—just move on. It’s part of the process.

Last but not least: To what do you attribute the longevity of the Melvins?

They asked Bob Dylan this question: “Why do you do what you do at this age? Why do you keep doing it?” He said, “That’s a deal I made. All I ever wanted to be was a musician. I never went to college. I never did any of those kinds of things. I wanted to play music. Now I get to do that. I work very hard at it, and I don’t take it lightly. And I have a ton of respect for the idea that I get to do that. So, I’m going to honor it by working as hard as I can.”

That’s it, really. It’s what I do. Would people ask a plumber or an architect, ”Why are you doing this?” It’s what I do. They design buildings or work on pipes. It’s all engineering and science, and the good ones understand that—and you can tell by their work. So, that’s the way I look at it. I heard this from a professional skateboarder, and I totally agree: You retire because you don’t want to do it anymore, or no one cares if you do it anymore.