
In early April of this year, John Maus will release his third album We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves via London label Upset the Rhythm. John took some time away from work on his snowed-in farm property in Austin, Minnesota to talk briefly about his third album, Badiou, Jackie Chan and what he’ll do if he ever gets a crack at late night.
K: Your new album is titled “We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves.” What is the significance of that name? Knowing the frustration, struggles and time it took for you to make this record, is that title indicative of your recording experience?
John Maus: After ten or more years pursuing this philosophy, nearly destroying myself around it and the last record, I’m beginning to suspect it has its shortcomings, that it must be supplemented in some way, or maybe abandoned. Even if I do see myself pursuing something else in the future, because this philosophy has informed so much of the process thus far, especially on the last record, the title seemed appropriate. If nothing else, the title makes explicit, once and for all, my debt to contemporary French philosopher Alain Badiou, who writes in his “Fifteen Theses on Contemporary Art,” “Since it is sure of its ability to control the entire domain of the visible and the audible via the laws governing commercial circulation and democratic communication, Empire no longer censures anything. All art, and all thought, is ruined when we accept this permission to consume, to communicate and to enjoy. We must become the pitiless censors of ourselves.”
K: Were there any new aesthetic goals you were aiming for on this record?
JM: The aesthetic goal for this record was to push the work further. In this respect, I believe the record is a failure.
K: You’re in the process of signing your first American record deal right now. How do you think it will change things stateside?
JM: I’m ambivalent about crossing new thresholds with respect to visibility. It seems there is certain a level of visibility, beyond which one does not pass, until one has thrown their lot in with the Devil. It is hard to square this with the goal of sharing the work with as many people as possible. As I’ve said to you before, it is small comfort knowing many of my heroes served masters at least as detestable as the one I’d serve allowing the work on a commercial or a big record label or whatever. If the unlikely happens, and the work is taken up within some greater, more visible, popular cultural sphere, I’ll always do whatever I can to bring-forth the untruth of that sphere: that it privileges this or that voice instead of encouraging every voice, that it encourages the praise of itself over the affirmation of every singular existence, and so on. If we’ve thrown our lot in with these Devils, that is, with the mechanisms that control what’s visible and what’s not, who counts and who doesn’t, and all towards ends both ridiculous and inhuman, then it is only because we insanely believe that it’s going to be different with us.
K: This moment in music seems like the ideal time for your sound to really connect with people on a large scale. Your friends and previous collaborators are all experiencing once unexpected levels of praise and attention. Did you feel any pressure - like this was your opportunity - during the recording process? And why do you think critics and fans today are so warmly embracing these sounds that were mostly neglected by the same artists only a few years ago?
JM: I know I’m in a real minority here, and, more and more, I’m opening up to the fact that I might be mistaken in all of this, but I don’t think anyone has really embraced anything, at least with respect to my friends and collaborators. The fact that, for example, Ariel Pink, appears on a given music blog next to a given mediocre band, marks a failure to account for what, in his music, moves beyond any given mediocre band. I wager he does something that should, so to speak, stop the press. What his music imagines, indeed, what all great music imagines, is not the world as it stands today or as it has ever stood before, that is, the world where it is merely this week’s, this month’s, this year’s, or even this decade’s or this century’s thing, but rather a world where it would be what it truly is: one multiplicity amongst an infinitude of multiplicities, a world that would be nothing but the sharing of these exceptional multiplicities. Any situation, or any world, which represents what Ariel does in any way other than this fails to grasp him.
K: Speaking of Ariel Pink, his recent successes led to a live performance on Jimmy Fallon. If someone ever asks you to appear on their late night show, how would you approach the situation? Would the karaoke box be front and center?
JM: Front and center, no doubt! If they ever make the mistake of putting me on a television show, I will do everything I can to concentrate my thirty minute performance into a couple of minutes, that is to say, even if the music isn’t there with me, the grotesque and objectively dissonant figure of a sweaty man really trying to make music will be.
K: On album closer “The Believer,” you explicitly mention Jackie Chan’s name a few times. I know he’s a hero of yours in some respects. What kind of influence would you say he has on your work?
JM: It’s been said, and rightly, that he is a genius of physical comedy, martial choreography, daring, and, of course, all around cinematic charisma. I understand, especially in light of the mockery he has allowed Hollywood to make of him over the last twenty years or so, that invoking a figure like Jack might be problematic for some. Nevertheless, I think this is similar to the problem some have with the music of Haydn or Mozart—that it’s “too sissy.” The problem speaks to an inability on the part of the one who has it; an unwillingness to grasp an artifact on its own terms, and grasp it instead within some presupposed economy of distinction and sophistication. The effort and attention to detail alone, never mind the daring, should be enough to convince anyone that Jack Chan opens something to aspire towards.
*Editor’s note: To lessen the stink of nepotism and salvage whatever shred of integrity I have, let it be known that this is the first in a series of artist interviews on Komakino. I just figured I’d start with John since I’m on his couch every night.
**Editor’s note: The mp3 featured above is a demo version of an album cut titled “And the Rain” and was selected by me - not John or his label - for posting.
***Editor’s note: John Maus will be in Europe touring in support of his new album from late March to mid-April.