Norfolk & Western
A conversation with Adam Selzer
(December 2006)
Interview by Adam McKibbin
Photograph by Alicia Rose
During his career as the leader of Norfolk & Western and (briefly) as a solo artist, Adam Selzer has proven himself quite effective in working with intimate minimalism, sparse production and evocative storytelling. It’s a comfort zone that has surely helped him make his Type Foundry studio in Portland a hotspot for up-and-comers (as well as tourmates like M. Ward) seeking a similar aesthetic. But 2006 finds Norfolk heating up and expanding, as evidenced both on their warmly accessible EP, A Gilded Age, and their more recent full-length, the rather ornate Unsung Colony. Even their live show is changing, as Selzer—formerly a one-man show—is now joined not just by percussionist Rachel Blumberg (ex-Decemberists) but also bassist Dave Depper and multi-instrumentalist Peter Broderick. All four Norfolkers contribute songs on The Unsung Colony, and the studio interplay between the quartet resulted in some of the liveliest material in the N&W catalog.
The afternoon before Norfolk wrapped up a headline tour in their native Portland, Selzer chatted with The Red Alert about the new material, the successes and frustrations of life on the road, and the difficulties of getting creative while having to remain technical.
It’s been a pretty prolific year for Norfolk, with the EP [A Gilded Age] and then the full-length [The Unsung Colony]. Was there always a clear division as far as which songs were going on which album?
Sort of. We had a tour-only EP when we toured with M. Ward. We ended up re-recording some of those songs for the EP, and re-recording some for the full-length—then of course there were a lot of new songs. We wanted to make the EP more poppy and immediate-sounding, and we wanted to make the full-length more expansive and layered and not necessarily as pop-oriented.
Do you have a preference between touring and recording?
Well, I really like touring. When shows don’t go so well, it’s sometimes discouraging, but when the shows are good, it’s really fun. To me, there’s nothing like playing live and having a good show. I love recording, but it’s also my job. I think if I didn’t do it as a job, I would be even more excited about recording. It still excites me, but it’s something I do all the time.
Do you burn out, then, sometimes?
Yes.
Quick answer!
Yeah, I mean, at this point, I do it as much as I can, and I try to have my hands in as many projects as possible. But a lot of it is very tedious, you know. It’s very repetitive, especially if you’re recording someone’s vocals and they’re particular about their vocals. It wears on you. It’s more mental exhaustion, but it’s a lot more exhausting than people think. But it’s also pretty rewarding to finish a record and be proud of it—and to have them be proud of it, and to help facilitate someone’s vision. That’s a pretty cool thing.
Do you stay involved with the day-to-day business end of the studio when you’re doing stuff with Norfolk, or are you able to step back?
Pretty much the way the normal records work is that we do a few days here and a few days there, in between projects that I’m working on. As opposed to blacking out three weeks straight, it’s more like “Let’s do three days here, maybe a day there.”
Do you have a managerial style? Or are you melding to whoever is in there with you?
Oh, I definitely meld. I always approach every project by talking about what their vision is for the record, and then I try to facilitate what they want to do and let them be the creative force. I’ll give suggestions if they’re wanted, and I’ll even help arrange, so some of the projects end up being more collaborative. I definitely don’t try to put a stamp on anything at all. It’s a lot more fun to collaborate, but I don’t expect that or demand that.
When you’re doing your own stuff, then, do you wish that you had that outside person?
Yeah, it is kind of hard playing both of those roles, trying to worry about the technical stuff and worry about playing. For this new record, I feel like I was less involved with the playing. The group of people we had recording was so super-talented that we would do the basic tracks and after that I was more of the producer/engineer, kind of guiding the process, but I didn’t physically play a lot other than the guitar stuff. That was kind of different.
Three of the songs are credited to three of you, but most of them are credited individually. You have them pretty worked out, then, by the time they hit the studio?
Yeah, some of them were totally finished, but some of them were really loose ideas—and some of them were pretty much written together on the spot. Dave, Rachel and I will usually get together and mess around without any preconceived notions, and a couple things came out of that process. Those are usually hit-and-miss, but when it works, it’s pretty cool. “The New Rise of Labor” was more that way. Then there were a couple of others that didn’t make the cut. (laughs)
Do you end up with complete songs that don’t make the cut, or are they more half-finished songs on the discard pile?
I think on this new record, all the ones that didn’t make the cut were never finished. A lot of them were pretty close, but on the other records, there were more songs that were actually finished and just didn’t make the cut. This time around, I don’t think we mixed anything that didn’t make it on.
There’s a rich assortment on instruments in the Norfolk catalog, and, as you mentioned, you have these bandmates who are certifiable multi-instrumentalists. What’s your least favorite instrument? What’s a taboo instrument at Type Foundry?
Saxophone. And didgeridoo.
The songs get scaled back in concert, right? They must.
Yeah, they do. We toured as a four-piece, so we had bass, drums, guitar, and we had a piano; Dave would play piano and bass at the same time sometimes. Peter played violin, banjo, theremin, and saw. Rachel had a keyboard with mellotron sounds. We had a lot of sounds going on, and for four people, I think it sounded pretty big.
This is the third Norfolk record that I’ve gotten, and I also have your solo album—one of the throughlines is a commitment to engaging artwork. As a big fan of holding albums in my hands instead of looking at them on my computer, I appreciate that. Do you think the days for the physical album are numbered, or are you one of the hopeful ones who think that some people will always gravitate to them?
That’s a good question. I’m the same way…and I think there will always be a demand for it. Even with vinyl, people are still buying it; although we pressed this album on vinyl, and hardly sold any on tour. (laughs) I don’t know how it’s selling on tours, but it wasn’t a hot seller at shows. But I think it’s important to have a really nice-looking package so that people will want to own it. If I see an album with terrible artwork, half the time I think, “Oh, man, I don’t know…I’ll download it or whatever.”
There’s a sense among some reviewers and fans – and even Chad [Crouch] at HUSH alluded to it in an interview we did earlier this year – that Norfolk & Western hasn’t gotten its due yet… that if you could just reach more people, that your audience is there. Do you have that same sense?
Yeah, it’s weird—on this tour, our booking agent got us great shows at good venues, and our press agent did an amazing job. Every place we went to we had great write-ups with photos in all the weeklies, but the turnout still wasn’t that strong. I don’t know what else to do at this point. Part of that was circumstance, touring right around Thanksgiving. I know that was tough. L.A. and San Francisco were Friday and Saturday night, and the turn-outs were okay, but not great. This is the first time we’ve done our own headlining tour, and we wanted to see what it would be like—we knew it would be less people, but at least they would be there to see us, so it would be more interactive in that way. With bigger shows, people don’t know who you are and they’re just waiting to see the next band. It’s great if you can win some people over, but it’s still a completely different energy. I think at this point we would like to maybe co-headline with another band that would have a pretty good draw—or maybe even do another support tour. We’re not really sure yet.
In past tours when you’ve been in the support slot, do you think you’re better off playing alongside like-minded bands who are similar in style or sound?
Yeah, definitely. As a headliner, I think it could be totally opposite. As a headliner, I think it’s cool to have a band open for you that sounds very different, because it makes people even more ready for your sound. But as an opener, if you sound somewhat similar to what people are already expecting from the headliner, it can work to your advantage. I personally like playing with bands that sound a lot different. Most people have pretty varied taste in music. If it’s good, it’s good, and it shouldn’t really matter. That being said, I think it does help the opener to have a somewhat similar aesthetic. When we did the M. Ward tour, that was good for us—but that was just Rachel and I, and we sound so different now. Even when we did the Decemberists tour, we were just a duo. I think if we did those tours with the lineup we have now, it would have helped us a lot more, and people would have responded more. Doing it as a duo, it was kind of sparse, and now it’s more dynamic and layered. I wish we could go back and do those shows that way. The shows were great—great audiences, great venues—but you can’t go back.
There was an interview with Maynard Keenan from Tool in this week’s Onion and he said a similar thing about headlining bands—that he would love to get very un-Tool bands in the opening slots on their tours.
Yeah, I think if we were ever at the point where we were drawing really well and could bring whatever kind of band we wanted, it would be cool to tour with a klezmer band or something—just something totally different.
In the meantime, maybe you can open for Tool.
(laughs) Uh, yeah. Call ‘em! |
