It’s taken six years of battle for VietNam to become Brooklyn’s next big thing—and they’ve got the scars to prove it. Michael Gerner and Joshua Grubb, the guitar-playing central members, have endured rotating line-ups, numerous geographical moves and an unsuccessful tour (they were kicked off for being disorderly) with former Vice labelmates DFA 1979 and Panthers. But now, the hot, heavy and hairy foursome is touring nationally behind their much-hyped self-titled debut and staying in hotels by the beach and play three local shows this weekend opening for The Lemonheads.
VietNam has attracted a devoted following in Brooklyn and beyond because of its distinctive sound and absurd (yet intriguing) image. Gerner and Grubb’s reverb-drenched guitars are bolstered by the driving, pummeling beat of bassist Ivan Berko and drummer Michael Foss. But most noticeable is that all four sport long hair and beards—except Grubb who recently got a shave and a haircut. “I went opposite,” he explains.
The band’s music has been likened to the freewheelin’ sounds of Bob Dylan and Derek and the Dominos and the intense, hard jams of Sonic Youth. Much of the buzz has focused on comparisons to an idealized memory of dingy communes and drug use, but the group’s mix of blues with psychedelic guitar noise has earned them a reputation as a band that’s classic, but also punk-rock experimental.
“We’re not quintessentially vintage,” says Gerner. “It’s rock ’n’ roll, which hasn’t changed much.”
The disc was recorded in Los Angeles, live in the studio and 100 percent analog, with Grubb and Gerner playing all guitar solos in one take. Guest stars include Jenny Lewis of Rilo Kiley, who adds ethereal vocals to “Step on Inside” (and bought pizzas for the record listening party in L.A.)
Gerner and Grubb started playing together in Texas six years ago and moved, between the two of them, to New York, Philadelphia, Amish-country Pennsylvania and back to Texas before finally settling down in Williamsburg in Brooklyn. They later picked up Foss in Texas and Berko in Brooklyn.
But Gerner says they don’t want their sound “pigeon-holed” as Brooklyn-esque. “Although there are some bands that, if put on a bill with us, would be cohesive, we’re constantly changing,” he says. “The next album will sound totally different.”
On stage, VietNam’s penchant for disjointed guitar ramblings is offset by their desire to be continuous. “Neither one of us likes to talk,” explains Grubb of himself and Gerner, “So we play a lot of segues; we try to get it to flow.”
An example is the live blending of “Priest, Poet & The Pig” and “Apocalypse.” The result is a riveting, 10-minute wall of sound. “It gets people’s attention. Maybe they’re exhausted. Or ready to listen,” says Grubb.
Despite their earned image as long-haired, drug taking hippies, VietNam don’t want to be taken solely at face value. “It’s about the music,” says Grubb. “Whenever somebody’s doing something new or different, people look on the surface. Everyone has hair—and some sort of vice.”
Feb. 23, Southpaw, 125 5th Ave. (betw. Sterling & St. John’s Pls.), B’klyn, 718-230-0236; 8, $20. (Feb. 24-25 at Maxwell’s)
