Get Sleighed

| 13 Aug 2014 | 04:30

    SOMETIMES THE HYPE machine accelerates out of all control. Take Brooklyn based two-piece Sleigh Bells, for example. Derek Miller and Alexis Krauss formed the band with a love of pop structure, hip-hop oriented grooves and a heavily overdriven guitar sound in mind, all topped off with the ballsiest female vocals you’ll hear this side of a Bikini Kill record. The band was suddenly ubiquitous after a few CMJ shows in 2009, with blogs, print media and fellow musicians striving to be affiliated with the group—all achieved without Sleigh Bells actually releasing a record.

    “If you go online, if you want to sit there and Google yourself and read everything, it would probably be a little weird, but that’s not what I do,” says Miller, talking while en route to play with Major Lazer in Columbus, Ohio. “The only time I’m probably aware of the buzz or whatever you call it is when I’m talking about it in interviews. There are people who are coming to shows who have read about us online and I’m thankful for it, but I try not to think about it too much. In the beginning, you read everything, but then you’re just like, OK. You need to stop at some point.”

    Basking in such blissful ignorance is a wise approach, especially as Miller already seems tired of the questions being fired at him. The well-told story of the band’s formation occurred when Krauss and her mom came into Miss Favela in Williamsburg, where Miller worked as a waiter. The two exchanged email addresses, Krauss quit her job as a teacher in the Bronx after forming the band and the rest is history.

    When I tell Miller we don’t need to discuss those details, he seems relieved. “That is great,” he chuckles. But he does offer a glimpse into the unusual bond they’ve formed. “It’s funny, Alexis and I, we never really talk about music,” he says. “She listens to mainly lots of old soul and really early R&B, which I do as well. I think we both like a lot of really sugary pop music. The only time we ever talk about music is when we’re making it, or recording it—our own stuff.”

    Miller grew up in Florida and cut his musical teeth in hardcore band Poison the Well. “I’m proud of what we did,” he says. “I don’t like all of the music that we made, I think some of it was kind of corny. But I love those guys, they’re still some of my close friends.” It’s difficult to trace a direct lineage from Poison the Well to the overt popism of Sleigh Bells, but Miller’s childhood listening habits offer a clue. “It was mainly stuff that my mom and dad would listen to,” he claims. “From my mom it was Madonna, The Immaculate Collection. Lots of Belinda Carlisle, lots of female top 40 radio pop. My dad listened to the Beatles. There was always a lot of Phil Collins on in our house as well.”

    As a teen, Miller delved into heavier material. “I totally listened to a ton of numetal when I was 13, 14, 15,” he claims. “I listened to that first Korn record a lot, and then I got into hardcore from that.” But lighter music was never far away. “My dad had the Good Morning Vietnam soundtrack,” he says. “I don’t think it left his CD player in his car for maybe a year-and-a-half. It had [The Vogues’] ‘Five O’Clock World,’ Martha & the Vandellas, ‘Nowhere to Run.’ All that stuff. I just remember driving around, being in the back seat and that CD was on repeat. A huge, huge influence for sure.”

    Miller’s turn to cast his own influence will come with the May release of Sleigh Bells’ debut album, Treats, on M.I.A’s Mom Pop label. “A friend of hers played her our music,” Miller recalls. “It was actually played to her on an iPhone, through little iPhone speakers and she started to email immediately. She was very direct and supportive. She understood it immediately and really loved it.”

    The guitarist claims he was struck by M.I.A’s “humble and normal” nature. “She rode her bike over to my apartment, I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know whether she was going to come with a bunch of people. But it was just her and her friend on their bikes. She just came over and hung out and listened to music.” But when we return to those formative influences, even M.I.A. can’t compete with a certain pivotal figure: “Vanilla Ice at the West Palm Auditorium, that was my first show,” Miller laughs. “It blew my mind. It was incredible. One of the best nights of my life.”

    >>SLEIGH BELLS May 7, Coco 66, 66 Greenpoint Ave. (betw. Franklin & West Sts.), Brooklyn, 718-389-7392; 10, $10.