True Tunes: First off, could
you share how you and Gene Eugene met and any
shareable memories of him?
Michael Knott: I met Gene Eugene so long ago
that I cannot remember the exact first time we met. My
fondest memories of Gene were in the studio. He used
to kick my butt over a take or maybe a mix, and I
would argue with him even though I knew he was right.
I just didn't want to give in to him too easily. I
also really enjoyed the shows we did together in New
York and Oregon. He was backing me on the piano, and I
would sing away. We were like a classic piano duo in a
hotel bar.
TT: What projects finished and unfinished
we'll be seeing from you soon.
MK: As has been the case for years, I have a
bunch of different projects all simmering at once. I
suspect the next albums people will hear from me are
Bomb Bay Babies Vol. II and L.S.U. - Unplugged. I have
a few surprise projects in the works that might also
pop up between now and spring time. Otherwise, the
other albums I could most realistically see be
finishing next are a new Aunt Bettys collection and a
wild demos collection we are calling Things Jenison
Found In the Closet.
TT: Though the Bomb Bay Babies were a band
of the late eighties and are now just getting to be
heard on record, is there a future for them?
MK: When Shaded Pain came out, I was
basically banned from playing many churches for two
years. They were too taken back by the darker tone of
the album. During that time I just did the Bomb Bay
Babies instead. As far as a future, no, I wouldn't
even know how to contact those guys. I will likely
include a few of their songs in current rock sets
though.
TT: On the Babies' Vol.1 there's a live song
you dedicate to the A&R folks in the crowd and
tear into the unflattering "Big Shot Record
Man". Were there really any A & R people in
the crowd that got to hear ya'll chanting 'Payola' to
the similar tune of the Kink's "Lola"?
MK: All the time. We actually almost signed
to Capitol, and we did sign a publishing deal with
Windswept Pacific, who now has the Spice Girls (is
that a plus or a minus?). They all loved the song
because, of course, I was always talking about the
other guy, not them.
TT: Can you tell us about the Aunt Bettys,
from its days at Elektra, how it was received both in
the mainstream market and with your following, and
what the Bettys are up to today?
MK: As long as I have been doing music, I
have worked at simultaneously having both a Christian
band and a general market band. During early L.S.U.,
my general market band was the Bomb Bay Babies. Most
recently, it was Strung Gurus with Dennis Danell from
Social Distortion. In the mid-'90s, my general market
side project was the Aunt Bettys. The reason I always
had two separate bands was so that I would not muddy
the waters between the two. My goal with the
Lifesavers Underground was to make a positive impact
on people's lives. I wanted to reach those people who
felt like outsiders by being a musical outsider
myself. I felt that a noble purpose like that should
not be mixed with trying to be a secular band going
after the big secular deal. In the same way, I don't
feel Aunt Bettys should be scrutinized the same way as
say Lifesavers Underground, because the Aunt Bettys,
like the other side projects, was my vehicle for going
after a general market record deal.
Aunt Bettys was received very well in the general
market. The punk community actually embraced us, so we
did shows with bands like Voodoo Glow Skulls and the
Aquabats on one week, and Fastball and Kenny Wayne
Shepherd the next. There was a lot of diversity in our
fan base. At the time, there were no Christian music
crossovers like Jars of Clay, so Elektra was
definitely unhappy that I had a history in the
Christian market. In response, they would often twist
my lyrics and ideas out-of-context in marketing
materials to build up the darker elements of the
album. This of course caused me problems with certain
Christian watchdogs, but ultimately my true intentions
and heart for ministry have shown through all the
misconceptions. The Aunt Bettys broke up in 1997, and
that's pretty much been it since then.
I've done a couple shows billed as the Aunt Bettys,
but those were just for fun with the guys from Value
Pac. We plan to release a new collection of Aunt
Bettys demo songs in the near future, and we might do
a few more shows to help promote that. Otherwise, I
think that I will just incorporate those Aunt Bettys
songs in any regular Michael Knott or L.S.U. shows
that I do with a band. I also want to start
incorporating some Bomb Bay Babies songs on there as
well.
TT: What caused the Aunt Bettys to break up
and would Electra have supported ya'll for another
record?
MK: That is a tough question with a whole
lot of answers. Would Elektra have done another album?
It's hard to tell because they didn't do much with the
first album. We actually negotiated out of our
contract so we were off Elektra at the time we broke
up. We did so because there were lots of labels still
into us. Island, Revolution, Silvertone, and a few
others all talked to us, but only one label - a BMG
joint venture - put down an offer. It was nowhere near
what the Elektra deal was, but it wasn't like we
actually got what Elektra promised us either. We sat
on the new offer for a while as we made the rounds
with the different labels. Ultimately, I wanted to go
with it, but the rest of the band wanted to quit. I
think there was a lot of disillusionment within the
band as to what finally getting a major label record
deal meant.
TT: On your recent releases (Live in
Nash-Vegas, Bomb Bay Babies) the Blonde Vinyl logo
makes it's comeback appearance. Is this in essence the
same label that it was five or so years ago?
MK: Blonde Vinyl is not a label in the sense
that it contains any artists besides myself and my
many incarnations. I used the Blonde Vinyl logo more
as a symbol than anything. I feel the Blonde Vinyl
logo represents a turning point in Christian music.
The label opened doors by challenging retail buyers,
Christian journalism, church organizations, and the
rest of the bolts in the Christian music machine. The
Blonde Vinyl bands were different than what these
establishments were accustomed to, but they saw the
way it positively affect the youth who were starving
for this type of music. Besides being the first real
Christian indie, Blonde Vinyl was also on the
forefront of doing Christian music videos. Very few
labels were making them at the time. Ultimately,
Blonde Vinyl failed as a result of many factors, not
the least of which involved the bankruptcy of Spectra
Distribution.
To me, putting the Blonde Vinyl logo on my records
helps fans remember the important contributions made
by artists like Deitiphobia, Dance House Children,
Fluffy, Sass O Frass Tunic, Breakfast With Amy, and
the rest. Likewise, for those who remember already,
having the Blonde Vinyl logo on my records stand for
being progressive, pushing the envelope, and the
creative blessing of independence. Hopefully these
records are living up to what the logo implies.
TT: Do you keep up with the current status
of old Blonde Vinyl bands such as Breakfast with Amy,
Black and White World and Steve Scott?
MK: I don't really know much. Chris Colbert
from Breakfast with Amy and Fluffy has taken over the
controls at the Green Room, the studio that Gene
Eugene founded. Dave from Breakfast has a new band,
but I'm not sure of their name. Black and White
World's singer and drummer have a new general market
band called Free Spin (were called Oscar) who have
been playing out a bit. Ronnie and Jason from Dance
House Children of course started Joy Electric and
Starflyer, respectively. Wally Shaw from Deitiphobia
has Massivivid now, who won a Dove Award. Wally also
programs music for video games. Don't know what happen
to Steve Scott. Doug from Lust Control of course still
does HM Magazine. Shelley Rogers and her CD still gets
lots of AM Christian radio play. That's about all I
can think of at this time.
TT: In 1992 you recorded The Grape Prophet,
which was a thinly veiled analysis of some in the
Vineyard Church movement. Can you sum up what you were
trying to get at with the record, how it was received
and how things stand with those folks now eight or so
years later?
MK: The album was not a criticism of the
Vineyard church, but rather a movement within one
particular place of worship that just happened to be a
part of the Vineyard. There was a movement called the
Kansas City prophets who did all kinds of weird stuff,
like one would talk in obscure parables and another
would interpret them. That's where I came up with the
song "English Interpreter of English."
Eventually, they got a bunch of people to move to
Kansas City, and the whole thing fell apart. At the
time, CRI were already distributing literature about
the Kansas City prophets, basically calling them
heretics. The Vineyard has since condemned their
actions and teachings as well.
TT: Have you been by the old apartment
complex you used to share with Bubbles, Kitty
Courtesy, Jan the Weatherman and John Barrymore Jr.
(all characters on the 'Rocket and a Bomb' record) any
time since you wrote the songs about them?
MK: I've driven by it on my way to
performing shows at the Whisky and the Viper Room, but
I don't go in and start knocking on doors. No one I
knew would still be there, and who really goes to
visit the grossest apartment one's lived in as a teen?
TT: Cush will be on a label outside of
Blonde Vinyl, correct? Can you give us the story how
the band came about and is this going to be another
venture into the mainstream (like the Aunt Bettys)?
MK: Cush is an idea that has floated around
for many years with Eric, Andy, and Wayne from the
Prayer Chain. They even produced some stuff years ago
under the name Cush. Last year, Mikee Bridges from
Tomfest and Tragedy Ann joined forces with Eric
Campuzano from Prayer Chain to form Northern Records,
which is a label through Pamplin. For their first
signing, they wanted to make Cush a reality, but they
needed a singer. They thought about a lot of different
singers, talked to a few, but decided on me. They
asked if I wanted to be involved, and of course I said
yes. I love those guys. In fact, Eric and Andy were
actually in my post-Aunt Bettys solo band from
1997-1999, and then Andy was in the Strung Gurus with
me for that short time. As far as the mainstream,
though, Cush is not some band that is actively
pursuing a secular glory signing or anything. The band
is about the musical art first and foremost, and
everything, and I mean everything, is a very distance
second place.
TT: Is "Heaven Sent" [recorded
with Cush] autobiographical?
MK: Most of my songs have some biographical
elements to them, but I also make them vague enough
for people to superimpose their own experiences into
the song and make it make sense.
TT: Regarding the subject matter of "Heavensent,"
are there folks who are still waiting for you to make
something of yourself?
MK: I have people who look at me waiting for
me to make something out of myself just like everyone
else does. The problem is that all these people have
different ideas of what that something should be. My
parents might want me to be a businessman. My manager
might want me to be Dave Matthews or Jacob Dylan. The
family might want me to be anything other than Homer
Simpson. Some fans want me to be the controversial
maverick, while others want me to be more mainstream
church friendly. Everyone always has the 411 on what
everyone else should be, but no one seems to be able
to apply their wisdom to themselves.
TT: Why is "Chelsea's Chasin'
Dragons" [Strung Gurus]?
MK: Where I live - Orange County, is to
yuppies what Seattle is to designer coffee. It truly
is ground zero. You will find more cell phones,
Beamers, shopping malls, espresso carts, Virgin
Megastores, stroller parks, amusement parks, and
quickie oil change drive-thrus than anywhere in the
country. Behind all this American dream pitter-patter,
there are lots of drugs and various abuses for people
who either failed to live up to their neighbors or who
struggle to keep everything looking alright. I get
surprised so often to see people who seem to have
things to together and then later to find out that
they are drug addicts. Chelsea is one of those people,
and her vice was heroin.
TT: Sin was always a tough fight but the
pull of heroin, crack and other drugs is somethin'
fiercer. Is there anything observable you've been able
to do for folks enslaved by these chemicals?
MK: In my experience, helping people get off
drugs only happens when you treat the person, not the
addiction. I know that sounds like N.A. or A.A.
rhetoric, but it's true. You need to uncover the
personality traits and internal struggles that lead a
person to drugs. Heroin is an especially interesting
drug because I believe it hinders a person's
maturation process. There is a certain amount of
horrible emotions that every person must work through
to mature to the next level. Heroin addicts try to
escape these painful emotional times through the drug,
which they think keeps them "normal." A 30
year old who has been doing heroin for 20 years often
has the maturity of a 20 year old, and that should be
kept in mind when it comes to helping the person.
Basic trials in life will be much harder for them.
Also, you cannot be judgmental on the person, and when
they fail, you cannot condemn them. Heroin addicts end
up becoming expert liars to try and hide their
problem. They need to trust you and have the ability
to be straight with you before you can help them.
TT: What kind of person are you speaking of
who fears 'Guitars, guns and girls' [Aunt Bettys]?.
MK: Doesn't everybody fear guitars, guns,
and especially girls?
TT: I might fear some combination of them
(ex. girls with guns) but really, what's to fear?
MK: Broken hearts, bullet holes, and
feedback.
TT: Fair enough. One thing I always looked
for from you were songs regarding fatherhood, since
you seemed to have written about everything else in
your life, and of course you are a father. The only
thing I can recall was a song I heard you play live
about some drinking incident involving a purple
dinosaur. Did I miss your other songs about kids?
MK: There are allusions here and there about
fatherhood. They mostly are one-liners that reflect
this huge desire to give my daughter the world and yet
the struggle to even come up with milk money.
"Sugar Mama" mentions borrowing money to buy
Stormie shoes, for example. Generally, though, family
is not something that enters into my music. I'm not
really sure why.
TT: Are there any records or bands out there
right now that excite you?
MK: I mostly liked the old records that
influenced me as a youth because those influences come
with me. I do like Tickle Penny Corner, who have also
been a great support to me on the road. I like the
Huntingtons because of their unashamed Ramones
influence. Then there's stuff on the radio that I
like, but I never remember the names of the bands or
the songs.
TT: Of those favorite records of your youth
(or records of any period of your life), what are some
of the records you consider masterpieces?
MK: I really enjoyed David Bowie's early
stuff, like Hunky Dory and The Rise and Fall of Ziggy
Stardust. The Rolling Stones, T. Rex, Lou Reed, Velvet
Underground, and the Ramones were also big influences.
I think music that is theatrical as long as the artist
doesn't wear a clown's mask or something lame like
that.
TT: You've covered a lot of musical ground
over the years. Any new genres (ex. country,
electronica) you're looking to tackle in the future?
MK: I was hoping to join the Lost Dogs and
turn them into a barbershop quartet.
TT: Well, do you feel the fever to break new
musical ground that others have not, to be progressive
to beat senility or complacency?
MK: When it comes to music, I'm like a
painter who doesn't know exactly what I am ultimately
setting out to paint until the painting is done. It's
always more of an inspiration than an idea, a feeling
than something written down and practiced and thought
out. When I write a song, I really try to capture the
specific feeling that I have at that particular time,
whether that feeling is happy, sad, weird, or even
silly. I then write music that will hopefully
accentuate the feeling and help bring it across. A lot
of times, I write the songs and then have to
categorize them accordingly. The song
"Crash" was supposed to be an Aunt Bettys
song, but it ended up fitting more as a solo song.
Likewise, "Mother Trucker" was originally a
solo song for Strip Cycle, but it turned into an Aunt
Bettys song. Then you take the different versions of
"Rocket and a Bomb." The song could go two
ways, so I wrote it with two different types of music.
The solo version is more reflective and sad, while the
Aunt Bettys song is more an outburst of pent up
frustration. In other words, should I do a electronic
album or country album or rap album or whatever, I
would be doing it because that's the medium that fits
the emotion and idea that I'm trying to capture.
TT: Regarding your prolific writing, is
there a frustration that comes when a song of yours
may lay around for a while before being recorded
properly and with that a frustration at having a
catalog that is so backed up, finality may never come
to be in your life time?
MK: For me, the wheel is always turning. I
may be over the top about one group of songs one
month, but a not long after, I'm all excited about the
next batch. We are doing our best to record, catalog,
and release - even if in small numbers - as much of
this as possible, though lots still slips through the
cracks. Ultimately, there's no frustration. The
fulfillment comes simply in creating the art.
TT: Musicians often look to trophies to work
for, such as gettin' their first paying gig, scoring a
record deal, making their first record, receiving
their first fan mail, winning awards and so on. What
does Mike Knott work for?
MK: Everything you mentioned above would
only apply to brand new bands. Whatever my trophies
have been over the years, they definitely have changed
with maturity. Oddly enough, what people consider the
big trophies have little value to me now. I've been on
the radio, had a major label deal, and played with big
secular bands, all before the general market had ever
heard of Jars of Clay or Sixpence. Once the
"newness" of those things pass, they rust
very quickly.
For me, there are two trophies that I long to
acquire continuously. The first trophy is each and
every person whose life has been profoundly impacted
by my music. Many times I am singing about struggles I
have or have had personally. I know how difficult they
can be. To have fans say that one of my songs touched
them and encouraged them and helped them deal with
that particular problem is a prize worth more than I
ever would have imagined when I was a new artist.
The second trophy is to see a person come to know
Christ through my music or through a show. I don't
mean seeing a person who has gone to church for ten
years raise his hand for the twentieth time at an
emotionally delivered altar call. I mean a person who
has seen Christ in my pain and struggles and in the
words I speak and the songs I sing, and then who
believes that what I have is real and wants to have it
in their lives. Again, as a young artist I would do
altar calls almost out of habit, but I rarely went
away with the feeling that something real had
happened. In the past year on the road, I have had the
opportunity to pray with a lot of non-Christians, and
I know what happened was real. Of course, those
trophies don't belong to me. They belong to God.
TT: The reason I ask about the trophies, is
that, as you described as rustable, what we often hold
high as the watermarks of artistry, once attained,
come to find out maybe are vain and part of some
selfish sideshow outside the frame of loving one's
neighbor as yourself. Was there a point in your career
that you found your prior ideas failing acid tests and
wondering why you should you bother at all?
MK: If I have ever wondered why I bother, it
was only for a heartbeat and because of the financial
struggles of pursuing music. The answer was always
clear to me. Making music is as important to me as
taking my next breath. I often write a song a day, and
sometimes I wonder what would happen if I actually had
my own studio. Then I'd really be flooding the market!
If I understand the question, I think that you are
implying that what new artists see as important often
fails to live up to expectations. That would be an
absolutely true statement. Each accomplishment that I
achieve still pales in comparison to one earnest,
excited, touched fan or one person that I can have a
spiritual impact upon. Even for the huge artists, I
bet it's still the same. You look at an artist like
Britney Spears on MTV, and her life looks larger than
life. Thing is, it's too large to be real. For every
second that a fan screams for her, there's something
or someone else screaming at her. Give me this, take
this, do this, lose a few pounds, you name it. In the
end, glory is fleeting. That's why at this point in my
music I want to do my best to make a difference in
people's lives that will last. I know that sounds
cliché, but if you think about it, the idea is
profound: I could actually write a song that speaks to
a person's heart with such magnitude that it has a
huge positive impact that could produce actual change.
It's mind-boggling.
TT: Your story songs seem to be the most
popular. In terms of what you said earlier regarding
your trophy of affecting people with your music, have
you ever accessed the strength of story telling on
your own fans, against the non-story songs?
MK: I really have not. In fact, I didn't
really even think about this until you said it.
However, I think I know why the story songs are more
popular. In simple terms, your average person would
think that "Kitty," "John Barrymore,"
"Jan," "Bubbles," and the rest of
the lot are all freaks. In my songs, I show how their
uniqueness and oddities make them stand out, and those
qualities endear these people to the listeners. My
music is really outsider music, because I'm trying to
reach people who feel like they don't fit in. What I
am hoping is that my fans - especially those who feel
odd or different or unlikable - can relate and see how
their differences make them special. As my manager
always says, 'If you fit in, you can't stand out.