Hitting the Pavement
janet weiss’ portland pride
June 27, 2006 was a tragic day in American rock ’n’ roll. Sleater-Kinney, the girl-rock, riot-grrrl darling of Portland, Ore., announced that it would go on an indefinite hiatus. This news broke hearts, elicited tears, and left the indie-rock world bereft while the girls of Sleater-Kinney went on to sweet solo careers.
Janet Weiss, Sleater-Kinney’s former drummer, speaks approvingly of the breakup, saying, “It allows me to play with other people ... I’m mostly about being in a band.” She’s been playing with bands for nearly 20 years, bringing her distinctive rhythms to such groups as Bright Eyes, Quasi (her project with ex-husband Sam Coomes), and Elliott Smith. Currently, she plays with Stephen Malkmus’ band, the Jicks.
Malkmus also fronted Pavement (the ultimate suburban-American indie band), and his newest album with the Jicks, Real Emotional Trash, was released on March 4. Weiss jumps at the chance to talk about her bandmate’s talents. “
It’s such an honor to play with someone so inventive ...,” Weiss says. “You never know what he’s going to come up with. It truly is exciting ... he’s on the verge of something really cool all of the time.”
True as this statement may be, Weiss is overly modest, as her own talents have been keeping the beat steady for many records over the years. As a drummer, she says, “I don’t think about anything except the music we’re working on, and it’s very personal,” and Weiss’ work is as innovative as the Jicks’ new music. Rhythmically complex and complementary drumbeats are Weiss’ specialty, and they are evident on every track of Real Emotional Trash.
Weiss was born in Hollywood, Calif., and remains a West Coast dweller, living in Portland since 1989. Her first band, The Furies, was part of the Portland music collaborative that came of age in the early 1990s—an “incredible scene, one of the best scenes of any scene,” Weiss says. “There were a bunch of local bands, and they were all great ... truly what a scene is all about.”
Music “scenes” are a thing of the past, with MySpace, pirated MP3s, and leaked albums spelling the demise of such great regional enclaves. “There are fewer of those regional scenes now because of computers,” Weiss says. “Everyone sort of has access to everything. You don’t just fester in your town with your band for three years before you ever go on tour. Now you’re immediately heard by everyone.”
The sheer number of bands that have featured Weiss is a perfect example of how she conceives musical scenes: “You kind of hung out with the same people in your town, you played music with the same people ... and you ended up crafting this thing, this scene.”
Together, she and Malkmus have created the ultimate West Coast “superband” microcosm with the Jicks—a band that is “loose, and willing to do new things live,” Weiss says. It is constantly shifting, constantly influencing.
In late 2006, Weiss became an official member of the Jicks. She began preparing to record an album with the group—a move that proved tricky, yet thrilling. “Musically, it’s always challenging to play with new people and try to bring your own personality without corrupting too much what’s already there,” Weiss says. “It’s mostly just fun to play with new people and to have a new perspective.”
The transition from band to band has “been fine ... it wasn’t too abrupt ... and I already knew these guys [The Jicks] so well,” Weiss says, emphasizing again the importance of her bandmates. “I’m just happy to play with someone [Malkmus] who I have such respect for.”
It is clear that her attitude leans toward teamwork and trust, rather than the rockstar-esque, ego-stoking heights of personal fame. “When I work with the same people, I get to know them and hunker down,” she says. “You can push things—there’s that trust and friendship.” The freedom and creativity often associated with individual rockers is a team effort for the Jicks.
Self-effacing and down-to-earth, Weiss’ own reaction to the album is: “I think it came out sounding like a record ... I’m really happy with it. I can listen to it, and it doesn’t make me squirm.” A reaction like this may seem surprising, considering the critical success of the Sleater-Kinney records, as well as the praise expected for the Jicks’ newest creation. A major part of the album’s appeal is its sense of intimacy. “It sounds like it sounded when we played it—you know, it’s like four people playing together in a room,” Weiss says. “That vibe carries through to the end product.”
Real Emotional Trash hits the shelves on March 4, and a few weeks later on March 20, the Jicks begin their tour. Audiences can look forward to hearing new songs, but also new takes on old songs. “I think Steve gets bored when he plays the same songs over and over ...,” Weiss says. “He’ll just decide he wants to change the song. He’ll make it up on the spot and it will be really good ... sometimes it’s hard to even believe.”