Burner Herzog
Photo by, Caroline Hamel
Meet Burner Herzog
Dust off your cowboy boots and fringe jacket we are toppling headfirst into the Americana rock wonder that is Burner Herzog. Steeped in the traditions of the genre Burner Herzog uses their knowledge to bring innovation and intrigue to a classic sound. In our latest interview, we chat with Burner Herzog about their latest release “Big Love” and some other fun topics.
A Self-Portrait by, Burner Herzog
Would You Rather
have the power to make things you touch turn invisible or shrink?
I'd prefer to turn things invisible; that way I might finally get better at arranging my apartment. Also, it'd be way simpler hiding birthday and Christmas gifts, etc. Shrinking sounds more dangerous, and I worry about the effect it might have on my perception of time.
But perhaps I'd do well to loosen my perception of time.
Some Questions with Burner Herzog
What was the creative inspiration behind your 2020 release “Big Love”?
If you pull out cards from a tarot deck, you see images of human archetypes. Jung talks about this concept if you want to go that deep, but it's not even that new; the Sufis investigated it centuries ago. These are encapsulations of feelings and states of being. When you pull tarot cards for guidance, you see yourself reflected in them, and they provide some sort of comfort or at least context for what seems to be your own personal chaos.
Music can have a really similar value in reflecting the state of a listener, having them identify with it. Due to this, a product often gets conflated with its maker, which is, historically, a mistake. Inside, I am the same web of contradictions as anyone, my desires change hourly, my mood shifts without warning or much provocation. But when I make a piece of music, I can freeze a moment in time in which the world can be reflected, and that, in itself, has inherent value.
Stephin Merritt from the Magnetic Fields said something that ties into this. He was giving an interview on the radio and was asked if his lyrics were works of fiction or diary entries. He said, "I don't see the difference, really." At the time, I hated this and thought his response was churlish and pretentious, but as I keep working and getting older, I only see more wisdom in it. It's the age-old snowflake conundrum, E Pluribus Unum, however, you want to look at it - the feelings we have are not new, or even our own, and yet, at the same time, they are our individual feelings. This is a koan that art can solve, and this is something I'm interested in solving all the time in my work.
As I was starting to come up with ideas for this album, I was on holiday and bought the reissue of Fleetwood Mac's Tango in the Night. It had a bonus disc that's stylistically all over the place - Beach Boys homages, Stonesish druggy rants, Sabbath-like thunder, a Kraftwerk-y instrumental, and a shocking number of other tracks that wouldn't sound out of place on an indie album today. Make of that what you will. I'd get stoned and pretend that was the album Lindsay Buckingham really wanted to make before the others interfered and made him change it. It helps to tell yourself playful lies sometimes.
Then, watching my bandmate Tony Molina build complete songs from the drums up in the studio, like we were rocking a big four-track, inspired me on a practical level. Kinda gave me the keys to do the same.
The last step was, I fell in love. When you're in love, as I hope you know, you gain energy and a different perspective on the world for a bit. That got me to write more, and write different kinds of songs that excited me. And I wanted to impress this person, so I started recording what I wrote like Tony did, drums first.
If your music was a sandwich, what would it be? Why?
It'd probably be one of those slider sampler plates with different fillings in each of the buns. But with wildly different fillings that are still all respectable sandwiches, in and of themselves. Let's say, one tuna melt, one chip buddy, one PB&J. Why? You get more bang for your buck that way. Variety is the spice of life.
What are your hopes for the NYC music community post-COVID-19?
My hopes for the NYC music community are the same as my hopes for all music communities, which is that we pull ourselves out of our conservatism and fear to push the medium forward. Art can be a vision of a new world, but the last 20 years have heavily favored re-evaluating the dazzling library of the past that opened up to us with the Internet and endless curated reissues. I think part of this is spurred on by the terrible political situation we've been in - people are scared of the future, and the past can be comforting. This problem is compounded by the fact that in the mid-1980s, technology surpassed what the artist was capable of doing with it, and it keeps lapping us; I fear many of us are not even attempting to catch up. Previous to this, it was the other way around, the artist pushing what the technology was capable of to make innovative work. To paraphrase Mark Mothersbaugh from DEVO, your iPhone is a more sophisticated studio than Abbey Road was in 1963. We can re-synthesize all this old stuff with the tools we have at hand. Let's lose our inhibitions and embrace where we are, so we can get somewhere better. Let's start making the music people will want to be copying in 20 years, right now!
For contemporary examples I think are already really good at this kind of thing, see Frank Ene, Wizard Apprentice, Blood Orange, Dean Blunt, Bill Baird.
Where does Werner Herzog get off clearly copying your project's name?
It really is a crying shame, isn't it? There he is, winning awards around the world, an icon, while I toil in obscurity... In the realm of cosmic phenomena, I actually met Mr. Herzog the day I finished the first Herzog album Wonderful American. (photo attached) Thankfully, the subject didn't come up, and it was a very pleasant encounter.
Your 2020 album “Big Love” features a myriad of nods to different rock sub-genres. What acts would you say have had the biggest impact on you and your work?
The Beatles and Yellow Magic Orchestra were the soundtrack to my childhood. They are like my parents. They are the ground level of my subconscious.
James Bond movie theme songs, too.
Syd Barrett was next.
Captain Beefheart destroyed my concept of song structure, if I even had one at that time, getting me to see music as elliptical. Trout Mask Replica hasn't left my mental top 10 albums list since I was 12 years old.
The Germs made me want to play guitar, and made me proud to be from the westside of Los Angeles County.
I really couldn't sing when I started so people said I sounded like Lou Reed. So I listened to him and liked him, then became fascinated by him.
Pussy Galore made me indulge in the extremity and abandon of noise and rock; later, The Amazements (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OFJt-Dw81Q4) did the same thing, in person.
Pavement and Guided by Voices gave me the courage to write and record my own songs.
Arthur Lee and Love taught me how to use the language of the subconscious to paint a portrait of the world.
My friend Adam Healton showed me how to let myself go to create, and forced me to become a live performer.
The Magnetic Fields taught me the value of song form and tradition within an experimental framework.
Brian Wilson and Phil Spector gave me something to aspire to as a producer.
The Airplanes showed me one night that any band, in any venue, at any time, could potentially be the greatest band on Earth.
The Fall encouraged me to do the "wrong" thing to get a new result. Pere Ubu, too.
Roky Erickson started a new chapter of life for me in a very real way, but it's a long story. Please watch, if you're interested.
Bob Dylan got me to actually learn classic song structures. He also taught me just how much the fluidity of a song's interpretation can change it.
Arthur Russell saved me at a crucial moment and learning more about him revealed that music could have a spiritual quality that wasn't bullshit.
The last person who really influenced me was Sun Ra, at the suggestion of Mayo Thompson.
What was your first date like?
Awkward. I don't think she liked me that way. She brought a friend. We went to a mall and watched Evolution, starring David Duchovny. The movie was terrible. Her mom picked her up right after it was over. There wasn't a follow-up.
I had a lot to learn. I was 15.
What are your top five favorite animals?
1. Llamas
2. Cats
3. Llamas
4. Cats
5. Pugs
Any final comments? (This is your electronic soapbox for one last answer.)
Herzog: Oof, don't encourage me to climb atop a soapbox...again. Let's try something else. I like it when my favorite artists recommend books, so here's some for you that don't get mentioned enough:
How Bluegrass Music Destroyed My Life by John Fahey
Space is the Place: The Life and Times of Sun Ra by John Szwed
Beneath the Underdog by Charles Mingus
The Transmigration of Timothy Archer by Philip K. Dick
Hellfire and In the Hand of Dante by Nick Tosches
Wise Blood by Flannery O'Connor
Paradise Regained by John Milton
Psychomagic and The Spiritual Autobiography of... by Alejandro Jodorowsky
Stay safe, the world needs you.
Yours,
Burner.