The first time I saw The Meat Puppets was in the mid-90s with Joan Jett, playing a “Taste of D.C.” festival in our nation’s capital, and even then the band seemed ancient; not exactly old, just sort of eternal. As a kid deeply affected by grunge, I was blown away by the heavy sounds that had dented the heads of my own Seattle-based idols. Even now, when those idols are all dead or dethroned, The Meat Puppets—comprising brothers Cris and Curt Kirkwood and drummer Ted Marcus—still play regularly, and in May the band released a new LP, Sewn Together. New York Press caught up with Curt Kirkwood to talk in advance of the group’s two New York shows this week.
The last show you played was at the Music Hall of Williamsburg, why are you now playing the much smaller Mercury Lounge?
Curt Kirkwood: Lack of faith in our draw. We’ve done well in New York and it was probably what was available. We had to push the album back and we had already set stuff up, so we had to set it all back about a month and a half. It was a real pain in the ass…I never really pay attention, I figure if we wind up someplace big it’s a fluke. These days, I’m just as comfortable playing smaller places, everyone’s happy that way—at least all the people who give a shit.
Your new record came out May 12—what was the story behind the delay?
It was on the record company, not on us. We had the thing done in January. They were trying to do the best they can, and so the tour had to suffer—the last few records I’ve put out this has been the case. As always, it lands in my lap. They like the record a lot and it’s a weird thing because you need a record to go on tour—touring is important these days, so you have to let some stuff go and put your faith in the whole thing. I don’t really have a say in any of that. Once I get the record done, I do all kinds of stuff on autopilot. Generally, I just stick to what I know how to do, make records and play shows.
How do you feel about the album?
I think it’s wonderful. It was easy to make. I don’t think my opinion matters about that either. I’m a jerk and I’m lucky that I get away with making stuff I like at all. Most of the stuff I do I don’t give a rat’s ass about. I don’t like the way I look, I don’t like my name, I hate my tits and my butt. But I like the record.
So is touring more important now because record sales are down?
I was always on an indie, and we sold very few records. All things considered, we have a good reputation but we never sold shit for records. Too High To Die probably sold a million over the long run, but its not like we ever had a consistent pattern of selling albums. There was no such thing as failure in the indie world in the ‘80s. I like to get by, but I’m not that interested in material gain. I’m happy if I’m in a band.
You reached a whole new audience when you played with Nirvana on Unplugged, but now a whole generation has emerged that doesn’t even know Nirvana. So how are you pulling in new fans?
I still see young people for sure. I say bullshit! Art’s a reflection of our culture and I think our culture has some pretty cool things to offer, but on a mass scale I think it’s a nasty bowl of wet cereal. I was into the Bee Gees, but I don’t know. I see a lot of kids—I don’t see that many people my own age.
What are you listening to these days?
We’ve played with a band called Shaky Hands that I liked, and a band called The Sterns. My girlfriend shoots video of a lot of bands, so I see a lot of that. I started getting into music with some pretty weird stuff like early Genesis and Frank Zappa and the Grateful Dead, ‘70s stuff. Nothing has that kind of impact on me these days, where I say, ‘Shit, that’s awesome.” The tenor of the mainstream is emotional, and that’s irritating to me.
> The Meat Puppets
June 11 and June 12, Mercury Lounge, 217 E. Houston St. (betw. Essex & Ludlow Sts.), 212-260-4700; 8, $16/$18
