A Conversation with Minnesota’s Peter Himmelman & David Hollander – 8.2.12

Mike Ragogna: Peter Himmelman and David Hollander of the group Minnesota, how are you guys?

Peter Himmelman: Doing well, Mike. Thanks.

David Hollander: Well, thanks.

MR: Now as I understand it, David, you are not currently in Minnesota but Appalachia?

DH: That’s right and Peter is in Santa Monica.

MR: Great. Now one of the songs on this new album Are You There? Tells the story of the devil coming out of a, well, “Deep Freeze.” Can you tell us about the song?

DH: Well, when I first heard that song, we were both sitting on two rolling chairs and Peter had just written the verse. It was sort of in its early phase, and it kind of had the feel of a revival — clapping, screaming, and un-tuning the guitar. What I heard was something that felt right. It wasn’t just a song about foreboding or an NPR fear-based idea; I love NPR, but I didn’t want a “the sky is falling” idea to it. What I really heard underneath all of the other things was the story of a singular man’s menace waking up — the devil inside the man. I didn’t want a feeling of “who is coming to get you,” because sometimes, you wake up and it’s you getting yourself. That’s what I heard, and that’s what turned me on so much about this song. In its earliest stage, it was a Jekyll and Hyde sort of thing. But it still has that drive and revival feeling to it; you could do it in a Baptist church or any number of venues and it would have that same feeling. It’s very personal, cultural, and social. I don’t know what made Peter write it, but in our relationship, part of what happens is if I listen and am inspired, something is ignited in Peter as well. Neither one of us talks about it too much, he just goes off and finishes his ideas. Those ideas always become richer and more complicated. Then we stop talking about them abstractly and start talking about those ideas sonically. Is it simple or more complex? We start talking about whether or not there’s hand clapping, or men screaming. We wanted something you could sit in a church stamping your feet to, but it would still feel like something that was more sonically elevated than just an old school John Hammond recording, which we also love. But we wanted it to be more than that.

MR: Right. Would you say that that scenario is, basically, how the collaboration between you two worked for this album?

DH: Well, yeah. I’ve loved Peter’s music for a long time, and sometimes when someone has a great love for your music and a great empathy for you, the kind of collaboration that you can become involved in is a lot more intimate, detailed, and even risky, primarily because there is this bedrock of “No harm meant.” I think that’s the way our relationship has progressed. I have no desire to be a writer in the Minnesota framework. I mean, I am a writer, but I have no desire to steer this ship in that way. I do, however, have all the desire in the world to be a collaborator and spark plug and an argumentative soul.

MR: Love it. So Peter, you already had this body of work that you had created, and David came in and added a cinematic scope to it sonically, is that right?

PH: He really did. As all things do, this kind of happened at an auspicious time. I used to be in a band called Sussman Lawrence, and we were together for a while — I still play with those guys a lot. But there was something kind of difficult about that experience because even though I was sort of the leader and writer, everything was always subjected to a long drawn out democratic process. I felt that was kind of slowing me down and guiding me into directions that I didn’t want to go, and so I kind of went my own way and threw off those “shackles.” After many years of being totally autonomous, I became aware that I was not only lonely in a very real sense, but I also felt very isolated in my work. David came to my place for some other purpose and I shared those things with him, kind of fearful of what he might say. Later, I sent him all of the material and he wrote back to me with not only a gentle hand, but with very firm ideas. The ideas that he sent me were all rooted in something that I thought was very wise. He had ideas that I never would have even thought of, and they came from such a different place. It was so exciting to me that I asked him if he’d want to be involved in the project and he said yes. He also asked if I would mind a very opinionated person breathing down his back at every turn. I told him that I honestly wasn’t sure, but that I’d do it anyway. I then made a little pact with myself–and I don’t think David knows this — that no matter what he said or how it struck me, I would never object or dismiss anything. Some of the ideas that he brought me originally which seemed absurd, meaningless, or impossible, now seemed self-evident.

MR: I can see that. For instance, “Arabesque” seems very much like a song that could have been on any one of your other albums, but the way that it was treated sonically, and even in your read, it seemed like someone was in the mix guiding you towards a more clarified version of the piece. Would you agree?

DH: Well, I can tell you my side of that, and I’d love to hear Peter’s, but when I first heard that song, I liked it a lot. I thought of the record as a story and had explained to Peter the narrative from song to song and what I thought every song meant in the narrative, which he succumbed to. He did succumb, though I don’t know if he agreed. I think it shocked him that the songs had come from 30 or 40 odd demos that I had decided were a story. We also attacked these songs lyrically to support the story. We then sat down with the band at the beginning of the recordings sessions and I assigned everyone roles, which the band was into, though I think they thought it was a little weird. To me, part of the story in that song was that after the devil is awakened in him and he’s traveling down the Mississippi, he’s sort of sickened and in a feverish place; he dreams that he is dancing with a corpse. When that image came out, the song changed. First, the time signature changed, which was very tricky; it went from 4/4 to 3/4. When we changed the time signature, it changed everything about the song, it gave the song a bit of a swing. Peter grandly came up with that opening phrase on guitar, and I asked him to play that same phrase on the piano. From the moment he played the phrase on the piano, it became one of the most magical hours that we had in the studio. After that, the framework of that song came together really quickly. Noah was so precise about how he wanted to drum it. He did take after take in the studio. Usually, he can do one take and he’s done, but he wanted to make sure, so badly, that it sounded loose and free. Then the singing had to be added to all of that. At first, there was a little bit of uncertainty, then after a bit, there was certainty, at least, that’s how I remember it.

PH: Yeah, I actually wrote that song before the other batch of songs that I wrote for this album. I thought that there was something there in the lyrics and the way that the chorus resolved, but it sounded very normal. When we began to play with the time signature, I had to change the timing of all of the lyrics. I didn’t have to change the words, just rethink the way they fit. I got to the studio really early in the morning and my voice wasn’t really working at all that day, but I tried it anyway because I think we were leaving town that night. When we recorded that, my voice opened to a place that it hasn’t opened in a very long time. There was something free, light, and effortless about it. The real clincher was that David had this idea in his head of a background of women who I always thought of as the “noises behind the door.” We had Kristin Mooney who basically arranged all of those vocals, which is just a masterful piece of music making. Those ideas lifted the song three times taller than it would have been. It’s a giant compared to where it was.

MR: Right. Claire Holley was featured as well.

DH: That’s right. Claire and Kristin were sort of the next addition to the song. Peter knew that was coming because we had talked about it. When we were making the record, to me, it was always a three-voice record and not a one-voice record because the story was about three people. The rules of the story then dictated that there needed to be Peter, a very strong and Christian type of voice; then we needed the more beautiful, higher, and waifish voice.

MR: What’s the story behind “Death By Snakebite”?

PH: Well, it’s funny that the songs that I like the best, maybe even the songs that I like most in general, have an obliqueness that eludes me somehow. So, as you’re wondering about what some of these songs mean, so am I. In other words, the best of my songs have a sense of mystery even to me in the sense that they just kind of fell into my lap. The interpretations that I attach to them may not be any more valid than yours. That certainly seems like a song where there is some trouble brewing. It’s not a Turtles song like “Happy Together.” One thing that we struggled with was trying to change it from a very basic blues song, which was interesting in and of itself, to something a little different. David also suggested that I add a chorus because it originally had none, so I wrote a chorus, which kind of changed the strictness of the blues form. Then he suggested something, which was kind of absurd. He didn’t want me to say “Death By Snakebite” on the rhyme at the end of each phrase. I thought that was just insane, because what would Howlin’ Wolf have done? David told me that he thought as soon as I said the title of the song in the lyric, everyone gets it and the song is over. So we waited quite a while and the women took the first of it in the second verses, then I never actually said it until the very last verse. Now it actually makes perfect sense to me; the song is just kind of waiting for that line. If you read the title, you’ll fill it in yourself. It’s more powerful when you can get a listener to insert their own impressions.

MR: Can you go into “Midnight In The Morning”?

PH: Well, I think what made both of those songs special is probably just the lyric. In the song “Death By Snakebite,” I really like the images that it stirs up, kind of like Christian snakehandlers in the Deep South. In “Midnight In The Morning,” it sets you up with this awful image, waiting for the sun to burn through the fog and it just doesn’t come. It’s just black. That could be expressed as a state of mind, probably the one that I’ve been in for the last two weeks.

MR: Now, this isn’t the first time you both worked together, you two teamed up for “The Heartland Project.”

DH: Yes. That was the first time we got paid to collaborate. (laughs) I’ll put it this way, we’ve been conspirators and friends for some time, but that project was probably the first time where money exchanged hands. But we’ve been friends for eight years, which is really a fundamental part of what we’re doing. We have a friendship that comes first. I mean, you can say that when you’re 25 and be completely full of s**t, but I really think we believe that. We know that what we’re trying to do together is a fundamental exercise in the art of self and not in the ego. As much as we love to talk about it — which is about as narcissistic as it gets — we do have a real core belief that this is art built out of a collaborative friendship. The things that we’re doing, be it this or other projects, are two people on equal footing trusting the other to work in different forms, whether its music, television, or film. Whatever it is, we choose to attack together.

MR: Beautiful. Do you have any advice for new artists?

PH: I guess it’s the same advice that I would give myself — and I won’t talk about delivery systems like Twitter or Facebook to advertise your music. But I suggest getting involved with a lot of activities that move you. Meet people and have conversations that you might not otherwise dare to have. Meet people that need help, help people, become inspired. Get your mind and heart into a condition in which you’re able to write something that no one’s ever written before. Then all of those delivery systems will avail themselves to you.

DH: I’d like to add to that if I may. Gain all of that inspiration, then don’t circle around that stuff. Get out there and make your art. That’s something that we talk about a lot as friends and creators. There’s no joy in talking about it, and there’s no joy in listening to criticism. There is only joy in engaging in the craft, and the craft is the answer to all questions. It’s the only answer, in my opinion, having written as much as I’ve written and followed the arts for as long as I have now. My only enemies are self-doubt, laziness, and procrastination. Likewise, the only joy I’ve ever known is in the doing, not in getting paid or the repetition.

MR: Well, you’ve inspired me.

PH: Me too. (laughs)

DH: And now, I’ll sit on this dock in Appalachia and mope. (laughs)

MR: (laughs) Would either of you say that there’s a song on this album that sums up both the album and your journey together creating it?

DH: Well, “Send It Up” is the summation of the album. It’s a very moody, dark, challenging, obstacle driven experience, but it represents completion.

MR: That’s great. Before we go, Peter, you provided a very important song in the soundtrack of my life, “Impermanent Things.” I often find myself humming that song and wonder what brain chemistry is triggering such a song choice. (laughs) You know, I just wanted to thank you for that song.

PH: It’s my pleasure. I’m glad to hear that.

MR: Peter and David, thank you so much for taking time out of your schedules to talk to us. And I hope that you’ll come back and chat with us again about any other new projects you pursue together or separately.

PH: Thanks so much for having us, Mike.

DH: Thanks, Mike.

Transcribed by Evan Martin