We first spoke to Brian Sendrowitz of Beat Radio back in 2013, where we asked our usual collection of musically naive questions about song-writing and the creative process. The beady-eyed amongst you will have seen that Beat Radio recently put out a new LP, Take it Forever, which we got rather excited about. An ode to art-making and human connection, the album felt like a triumphant summation of the philosophies Sendrowitz has been writing about since the band’s inception, exploring his position as an artist in a society where money and exposure rules, and as a husband/father/friend in a world both linked and fractured by technology. As we wrote in our review:
Take It Forever plays like the manifesto of someone who doesn’t know all the answers but finds meaning in asking the questions, the words not of a revolutionary or prophet but an ordinary man striving to make life extraordinary, just as it should be.
Since Sendrowitz has continued to make great music, we endeavoured to come up with some new questions and pick his brains all over again. I think you’ll agree he did a marvellous job of answering them.
Hello Brian, thanks for speaking with us again! How does it feel to have released Take It Forever? Is it a milestone you are proud of?
It’s my pleasure! I really appreciate the work you guys do with Wake the Deaf. As someone who puts a lot into songwriting and lyrics in particular, I’m grateful that there are people who take to time to listen, dig into themes, and approach our music with a depth of thought and understanding. This record definitely feels like some sort of milestone, and maybe more than usual. I think you mentioned in your review that it felt like a culmination of ideas, and for me it was in the sense that I wanted to address very specific themes, articulate ideas as directly as possible, and then move on from them. My resolution for 2016 is “no more songs about the internet.” I had started writing about the subject way back with our song “Teenage Anthem for the Drunken Boat”, and have revisited it frequently. There’s been such a massive shift in our culture and the way we communicate. It feels generation-defining and to not address it in my art would have felt inauthentic to me. With Take It Forever I wanted to make an entire record dealing with the sort of questions I’m always asking myself: where does art fit into our culture now? What place does music have in my life, as both an artist and a fan? In a way it’s sort of a break-up album, in the sense that it chronicles my coming to terms with letting go of my own careerist ambitions, and also with the concept of music careerism in general. But it also tells the story of me finding my way back to a purely creative motivation, which is how this whole thing started anyway.
[bandcamp width=100% height=120 album=1605333666 size=large bgcol=ffffff linkcol=0687f5 tracklist=false artwork=small track=3751277246]
You have been making music as Beat Radio for over ten years now. How has your music changed since the early days? And are your reasons for making it still the same?
Looking back on the 5 records we’ve made with Beat Radio, I feel like each one was its own unique adventure with different motivations, goals, and perspective. It usually involves some sort of self-imposed set of rules. For this one I knew I wanted to create a more traditional “band” sounding record, guitar-driven and using primarily organic sounds. I think the earlier albums were more escapist in nature, lyrically. Songs were always a sort of fantasy world I could create and control, and exist in. The last record dealt with more personal subject matter but still mainly in an impressionistic way. Take It Forever is our most direct and autobiographical album. It’s also the first time since our first album that I had a band to rehearse and develop the songs prior to recording them, which changes the feel quite a bit and was a lot of fun. To answer the last part of your question, I think my reason for making records on a fundamental level has always been the same. I have ideas I want to express, and the process of writing songs and ushering them into existence is joyful for me. It gets me out of bed in the morning.
Point three of your Advice For Artists list suggests making your ‘peace with the capitalist yardsticks that you thought would signify creative success’. The idea is echoed in the opening song too, taking stories from television, being haunted by the resulting ambition etc., basically being a prisoner to dreams of greatness. So, assuming you have vaulted the problem (or are at least in the process of jumping), do you attempt to measure your success in any other way? Are there any goals (no matter how small/ludicrous) which drive you on?
Ha, I think to say I’m “in the process of jumping” is probably most accurate, if I’m totally honest. I read somewhere recently that when you’re giving advice, you’re really talking to your former self. I’m including that advice for artists list in the artwork for the new record because I sort of consider it a part of the same body of work. Looking back, I think I kind of believed it was too late to achieve a traditional version of music industry “success” before this band even started. The second song I wrote for Beat Radio was “Mexico” which contained the lyric “the dream I had was beautiful, but I let it get away from me.” For a long time though, I secretly believed that there was some mystical equation or weird alchemy that could bring me to that dream of success – touring, quitting my day job, acclaim and recognition, etc. Like, if I could reach a certain level of honesty in myself, and openness, I could magically overcome all the obstacles in my path. Who knows, maybe that’s still true. It’s strange to admit that now though, because it’s in contrast to so many things I believe on a rational level. We all know that you can’t equate commercial success with artistic success, but on some level we all seem to do it anyway. Like, the Bruno Mars song “Uptown Funk” just won the Grammy for record of the year. Do we know anyone who really believes that is the best record of 2015? I know a lot of musicians and we’re all generally conflicted about this stuff in one way or another. And I know so many brilliant musicians who exist almost entirely outside of the dimension of not only the Grammys but also Pitchfork, Stereogum, Noisey, and everything else.
I guess part of the manifesto of this album is to communicate that it’s okay, and it doesn’t mean the songs are any less meaningful, important, and valuable. It’s just a different dimension. In its own way, maybe a creative life outside of that world can be more authentic and valuable because it’s not compromised by the pressure of capitalism. Either way, the creative process is its own reward, and individuality needs to be celebrated. I believe our culture depends on that. Humanity depends on that. So I measure success by the way a record makes me feel when I hear it, and the degree to which I was able to express the idea or emotion that I set out to express. I’m motivated by a desire to make something beautiful, and feel blessed every day that I have the opportunity to create and share things that may inspire others in some small way. I want to build a great body of work and a legacy. I want my sons to know a father who stayed true to a creative vision, and worked at it. I want them to know what that means.
I’ve recently read Quicksand by Steve Toltz, a rather hyperactive novel in which a teacher has written a book to help creative people. There are lots of quotable one-liners, but one really stuck out. “We make art because being alive is a hostage situation in which our abductors are silent and we cannot even intuit their demands”. Do you identify with this? Would you say your creative process exists in such a desperate, awfully alive situation?
That’s a really powerful image. I think that it gets down to the heart of faith – the question of whether or not we can intuit our abductor’s demands. I’d like to believe that we can intuit their demands, and art is one of the ways we are able to do so. And maybe that’s what the author is implying? Or at least, maybe the implication is that we should ask the question? Art doesn’t feel like a stab in the dark for me. It feels like a healing, or a transcendence of the pain of that uncertainty.
You have a job and a family so this question will probably make you laugh, but I’m interested distractions from working creatively and was wondering if you find a particular thing gets in the way of making music? Like, besides general life stuff? I’ve purposefully not signed up to the internet at the library because I’m genuinely 5x more productive without it. David Foster Wallace lived without a TV in his home. Are there any specific things you have to avoid or deny yourself in order to make musical progress?
The internet is a big thing. It’s always there and it’s irresistible. Netflix is a big thing. Being married too – I love spending time with my wife, and it’s very easy to crash on the couch with her at the end of the day. I find that to stay on task the only thing that works for me is to give myself projects, set goals and a timeline for myself, and commit to a schedule. I write it down in my notebook and do my best to commit to it. I used to be much more manic about it, I’ve gotten better at finding the balance. Also – involving collaborators in the process is always helpful for me, because I feel a sense of responsibility to do my part and send them mixes to listen to, review, give feedback on, etc. The keeps momentum and drives a project forward.
[bandcamp width=100% height=120 album=1605333666 size=large bgcol=ffffff linkcol=0687f5 tracklist=false artwork=small track=3345841671]
Right, I don’t want to get too deep here but there’s something I often wonder and although it’s vague to the point of rhetorical I want to ask you because the album pokes at similar themes. Is the dissatisfaction and emptiness you battle right across Take It Forever a modern thing? Or is it just the by-product of being aware of our own mortality? I mean, do you think our parents/grandparents felt the same way we do?
I think there is something about the sort of dissatisfaction we experience that is unique to our time. I tried to describe that in the title track, with the lines: “Everyone is casting spells, and building myths around themselves. All we want is everything, and all we find is suffering.” It’s funny we have all these great tools to allow us communicate more easily than ever before, but people are probably more self-absorbed in general than ever before. I’m not religious in any dogmatic sense, but I have embraced and incorporated Buddhist philosophy into my life over the last few years, and that has changed my perspective a lot. I’ve become more aware of my own need for validation. I think every artist has that. Most people in general do. Part of that is the human condition but it’s also exaggerated by a modern need for instant gratification, and a feeling of lack. I think about my grandfather, who for the sake of brevity I will describe as a man who basically had the personality of Gene Hackman’s character in The Royal Tenenbaums. I can’t imagine him checking his Instagram to see how many likes his selfie got. I can’t imagine him giving a damn about any of that. I admire that, but then here I am, carefully curating my personal brand. It’s sort of hilarious. I guess the key is to keep a sense of humor about it, and not take anything too seriously. Nothing matters, everything matters. “How strange it is to be anything at all.”
I asked this last time but it was long enough ago to ask again. Could you name 4-5 bands you are enjoying at the moment? Who do you find yourself turning to?
I was really taken with Hop Along’s Painted Shut LP, and also Sufjan’s Carrie and Lowell. I was a little late getting to listen to Joanna Newsom’s Divers, but got that recently and it’s really something to behold. I dig that Nap Eyes record that everyone is talking about also. They remind me of a band my friend and old guitar player/producer Phil Jimenez produced called The Piltones, back in 2002 or so. I’m also co-producing a new record right now for my friend Tim Lannen, formerly of The Diggs, so I’m pretty engrossed in that. It’s turning out to be amazing.
You can buy Take It Forever now via Beat Radio’s Bandcamp page. Read our review here.