There is air of secrecy that surrounds Black Moth Super Rainbow (BMSR). Music videos seem more like art installation clips, photo shoots consist of masks and delayed shutter speeds, and the names of the artists are obscured by monikers such as Power Pill Fist and The Seven Fields of Aphelion. While the concealment, whether by artistic choice or emotional necessity, might not be a point of concern, it is a fitting match for a sound that continues to escape simple classification of just “experimental” or “psychedelic.” Pennsylvania-born, lead singer/songwriter, Tom Fec (a.k.a Tobacco) might not want to have it any other way. His voice (manipulated through a vocoder) serves more as a shield of warm distortion through Rhodes keys that blossom and wilt over driving drums and softer pop ballads.
The most recent album Eating Us retains some qualities of his previous work, but there is a maturity and refinement here of a musician finding his footing. As with the videos and photographs of BMSR, the sound is both strange and familiar, warm and distorted, and holds listeners like a siren’s call as if tempting us to take another look and turn up the volume. Loudfarm spoke to Fec, via email, about the new album, his mantra-like lyrics and how making music is like a trying to catch magic with a net.
Loud Farm:I imagine seeing an overcast landscape outside of Pittsburgh, a small high school, and you as a teenager, possibly stoned, reading Ginsberg, listening to Brian Eno or Kraftwork and thinking about music. How close am I to getting this picture right? How would you paint it?
Tom Fec : Kind of like that but, I avoided books at all costs. I used to pride myself in not having actually read a single book in high school and skimming my way through English. I don't know why, I guess it was like a game to me. Definitely not stoned. I still haven't heard more than a song or two by Eno or Kraftwerk. I did love my Discman though, and I was listening to a ton of Jon Spencer Blues Explosion at school. I don't know why, but that band worked best at school. I was into freestyle BMX and trying to get the hang of basic flatland. I was also psyched about having my own 4-track senior year.
LF:Growing up music…
a.) gave me a safe haven from the world around me.
b.) was my way of wooing local crushes.
c.) was more of a private experience that I really didn’t share with anyone.
d.) offered an escape when I was on acid with my friends
TF:(c) all the way! Zaireeka (the Flaming Lips 8th studio album) was the only thing I liked to listen to socially, because you needed to. Back then and still today, I'd rather be alone with music so I can think about it.
LF: As a musician, what do you find truly mysterious?
TF:I can't understand the trick to making a universally good song, but I guess that's why I have to keep making music. It's like trying to catch magic with a net, and I don't want to run out of ideas before I can do that at least once. LF:There is something to be said about having certain anonymity as an artist. Do you think using a vocoder is an extension of this? TF:I had never thought of it that way, I but I guess that's part of it. I started using the vocoder because I didn't like the sound of my voice, and I was really uncomfortable with the idea of singing for real in a live setting. I’ve been working at getting my vocoder as human as possible, so it doesn't come across as a novelty, but also because I want it to sound real and convey something more than just texture and melody. LF:Do you see it as a departure from your past works or is it more like a connection or thread that is becoming more visible with your particular sound? TF:I think it's a different animal from Fucked Up Friends, but it was the only place to go with BMSR after Dandelion Gum. Maybe it was a departure I had to make to stay interested in seeing where it could go. With it being “sham wowed” out by (producer) Dave Fridmann, it's the least typically Black-Mothy sounding, but that sound needed a break for a minute. LF: There is a certain mantra-quality to the melodies and lyrics of your songs. Do you feel that this approach allows the music to be front and center? TF:Vocal melodies with simple ideas are important to me. I don't like to complicate things, and I'm not a very wordy guy. Less is more with lyrics for me, and I like to try to make it count. I don't like to give out the lyrics as they were on the recordings, because it's more meaningful to hear what you want to hear in them. LF: What is the most unnerving and most blessed thing about being an independent artist these days? TF:I guess the downside is not always having the funding to do whatever I want with this, but maybe that's not always so bad because it makes you work within your limitations.
It's a definite blessing being in complete control of everything I make, and somehow making a living off of it. Like a lot of bands in the early 2000's, I was trying to get BMSR signed to a big independent label, and the labels just weren't having it. With the way things are going right now all around, and some of the fucked up deals that people find acceptable, I count my blessings everyday that I didn't have the chance to sign anything stupid.
LF: What was the most beautiful sound you heard today? TF:A waffle house griddle.
Interview by Patrick Knowles