NASCAR suits and footie pajamas

While the duo of Detroit indie electro-pop band Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr. prefers not to be defined with labels, they can’t deny that they have a thing for one-garment outfits — namely, jumpsuits and footie pajamas.

In their first music video, for “Nothing But Our Love,” both sport footie PJs — on loan from a friend, though band member Daniel Zott has been on the hunt for his own pair.

“I found one similar to that in [Midwestern department store chain] Meijer in the pregnant women’s section,” Zott says dryly. “Most people don’t find them because most people aren’t pregnant.”

The jumpsuits, on the other hand — seen here in their publicity photo — are not just about comfort. The band’s namesake is notable NASCAR racer Dale Earnhardt Jr. And while it might seem odd that a band who echoes delicate pop groups like The Postal Service would choose such a macho name, it’s that very incongruity they were going for.

“Music can be such a segregated thing — ‘I like everything, but I hate hip-hop or country music,’” bandmate Joshua Epstein explains. “I think it’s the same in sports. Fans are like that about NASCAR. That metaphor kind of lent itself to this. We don’t want to be genre-specific. We want a ton of people to access our music and find something in it.”

Though they may already be indie darlings with their first EP, “Horse Power,” attracting critical praise, the duo hopes to reach a much wider audience than the usual hipster crowd.

“I think somewhere down the line, pop music got a bad connotation,” Epstein says. “[Our music] is kind of an homage to the days when the music that people were consuming in mass amounts was music that is widely respected.”

Picking Cotton

Cotton Jones has the warmth of a band from a bygone era — they’re neo-hippies whose unadorned, self-assured style contradicts what you’d expect from some Maryland upstarts in their early 20s.

A married couple, Michael Nau and Whitney McGraw, is the creative force behind the band, having created Cotton Jones after their stint in celebrated indie group Page France. They’ve unintentionally modeled themselves in part after the historic coupling of Lee Hazelwood and Nancy Sinatra in the late 1960s.

“I wouldn’t really say we were kind of trying to mold something from that feeling, but I guess you inevitably are influenced by what you’re listening to,” McGraw admits, referencing the “Lee and Nancy” album. “It just naturally comes out in our writing.”

While their sound has a laid-back vibe that’s reminiscent of alt-country and the likes of Mazzy Star, McGraw says their latest album, “Tall Hours in the Glowstream” has a varied sound due to the number of locations it was recorded in — from Athens, Georgia, to Fenwick Island, Delaware, to Cumberland, Maryland.

“We just had a lot of days when the band would come down from Maryland [to Athens] and we’d spend 48 hours just recording and recording and recording and then we’d just eventually listen to it and then scrap half of it and start over again,” says McGraw. “It was really inconsistent, which I think really influenced the sound — being in many different places influenced it more than just being in Georgia.”

So happy together

“We’re pretty used to it; as long we’ve been touring and playing music, we’ve been a couple, so that’s just kind of always what it’s been,” says McGraw on spending so much time with her husband. “We just got married last October, so it really hasn’t been that different. I think everyone’s kind of used to that dynamic.”

Whitney Houston: From troubled life to lasting legacy

With Whitney Houston’s funeral taking place this Saturday — to be telecast by CNN and streamed online — the tragedy of her death is still fresh. However, Houston, like Michael Jackson, may have a legacy that can outlive our collective memory of her somewhat tainted past. But that doesn’t happen on its own. There are professionals who specialize in the act of “sanitizing” the image of a deceased celebrity.

“The estates of dead celebrities these days are so savvy, and there’s a handful of people that manage it in Hollywood,” explains Jo Piazza, author of “Celebrity Inc.: How Famous People Make Money.” “Whitney’s estate will likely sign on with one of them, because they know what to do to kind of sanitize a celebrity who has died in an unsavory way. They’re also bulldogs to make sure that the image is not used in a way that is one, not profitable for them, and two, will continue to damage the brand in perpetuity.”

Piazza notes that Michael Jackson’s estate used the same experts that had worked on Elvis Presley’s estate. Many may forget that Presley also died young and on the toilet. But Jackson and Presley are the top two dead celebrity earners. Why? Because their branding allows new generations to become fans and consumers.

“Michael Jackson’s estate benefited from the fact that Conrad Murray was convicted,” Piazza says. “That kind of clears his name and de-stigmatizes him going forward. The way Whitney Houston died, that’s not a family-friendly way to die. And if you die in an un-family- friendly way, it’s hard for parents to encourage that next generation of consumers to sign on to this brand.”

Michael Jackson and Elvis Presley’s respective Cirque du Soleil shows, in addition to Presley’s Graceland, not only generate big money for their estates but indoctrinate new generations as fans of their music.

But can Houston manage to overcome the same sort of branding crisis? Piazza doesn’t think so.
“I don’t think that her brand was as strong as Jackson and Presley’s,” she says. “I don’t think that she had a strong enough catalog in one genre to be able to do anything in perpetuity.”

Piazza also notes that because Houston did not write her songs, she also stands to make less money from her catalog going forward.

Hope for Houston

Dorothy Pomerantz is an  entertainment journalist for Forbes Magazine and compiles the annual list     of top-earning dead celebrities. She takes a more hopeful perspective on the future of Houston’s legacy.
   
“Yes, the way Whitney Houston died was incredibly sad; but what’s going to matter is how her heirs and her estate managers handle her name going forward,” Pomerantz says. “There’s no reason that something similar [to the success of Presley and Jackson] couldn’t happen with Whitney Houston after her estate and her name have had room to separate from the way she died.

“It takes PR and smart planning and smart work. There’s potential there.”

Whitney Houston: The biopic

Who would play who

We asked movie critic for Fandango.com Grae Drake to speculate as to who could play the key roles in a Whitney Houston biopic if one were to be made today. But Drake warned that the public will need distance from her death in order to appreciate a retelling of her life.

“Biopics usually do better when people have had time to forget what it was like to live through it in the news,” she says. “When you lose someone so quickly, you need to grieve a little bit as an audience, and a movie would be much more harshly judged the faster that it happens.”

Whitney Houston: Jennifer Hudson
Hudson’s Grammy tribute didn’t leave many a dry eye in the house on Sunday, and Drake says she’s the obvious choice: “Jennifer Hudson is who everyone is bringing up for this.”

Bobby Brown: Don Cheadle
Drake says: “The thing about Don Cheadle is that he can really bring something deep to a figure whom I think is largely unsympathetic.”
 
Dionne Warwick: Angela Basset
Drake says: “If anyone could do Dionne Warwick, it would totally be Angela Bassett.”
 
Clive Davis: Brian Cox
Drake says: “Brian Cox has a soft side to him but at the same time, he’s kind of dangerous. And that’s how I see Clive Davis.”
 
Cissy Houston: Viola Davis
Drake says: We’d have to age her up a bit, but I’m just so excited for the recognition that [Davis] has gotten lately. The highs and the lows of Whitney Houston’s life must’ve been especially excruciating to watch as a mother, and Viola Davis could handle it.”

The Kills: Just like the first time

Jamie Hince may be married to a supermodel, but he finds a roomful of screaming fans way more intimidating. The British guitarist (and husband to Kate Moss) has been half of The Kills for the last decade, but he confesses that he still gets the jitters before every show. But he has a theory on that.

“I think it’s easier when you’re in a band of four or five people if you’re the bass player and your bass goes wrong, the band carries on,” Hince explains. “But with The Kills, if the guitar stops, the music stops. You’ve taken a proper tumble.”

But being part of such a small group has its benefits. When reflecting back on the four Kills albums he’s made with bandmate Alison Mosshart, Hince notes that the simplicity allowed for a lot of experimentation, especially on their early albums.

“When you’re working in a two-piece, you tend to be fascinated by what you can do by leaving things out,” he says. “So the first couple of records were really experimenting with that, and then I upgraded and bought MPC 60 drum machine that kind of kicked open the door to hip-hop, and I just went crazy on that and spent hours and hours striking my drums and really getting into it.”

Given all the time to reflect on his band’s evolution with a series of anniversary shows, Hince admits that their controversial start — in which they shunned most interviews and flouted rules about say, smoking onstage — is a far cry from where they are now as a band. Out of the shadow of the mighty White Stripes, whom they were so often compared to, The Kills can savor their own clearly defined identity. Just don’t call it garage rock, please.

“It kind of got pigeonholed into that sort of new wave, whatever it was, garage rock, whatever, which I always laughed at because we only had like a $40 drum machine that we used, and you know it was so far from garage rock,” Hince says of their first album, “Keep on Your Mean Side.”

“I know we definitely had some sort of paranoia,” he says about the band’s approach to the media. “We sort of relaxed the reins a bit, really. I’m kind of happy to talk about my band now. I feel kind of confident, really. It’s not like it’s going to be taken and turned into something else.”

New album in the offing
   
Last year’s “Blood Pressures” garnered much critical praise, and the band is planning to head into the studio to begin recording a new album due out late 2012 or early 2013.

Friendly Fires tempt you onto to the dance floor

It’s impossible not to be tempted to dance at a Friendly Fires show. The dance-punk trio, hailing originally from St. Albans in Hertfordshire, England, makes the beat the central element of every single irresistible pop hook they write. That of course, translates to a sweat-laden live show.

“It’s a huge thing, physically, for me and for all of us really,” says drummer Jack Savidge of the band’s live shows. “There’s always a big sense of achievement by the end.”

The band has just dropped their sophomore album, “Pala” to follow up their self-titled debut album, which earned a Mercury prize nomination in 2008. Their new material is as catchy as ever, with the sort of celebratory air, such as in their single, “Hawaiian Air,” that builds on the exuberance of the first album.  

“I don’t know that our approach to this album was all that different really,” Savidge explains of the sound on “Pala.” “I think we learned a lot of lessons from making the music that came out on the first album. On this album we just wanted to elaborate on some of the things that we’d done of the first record a bit, rather than totally wipe the slate clean and try to make something totally new.”

Savidge sweetly admits that the feel-good fun of their music is something that they’ve purposely decided should be their calling card.

“I think we decided fairly early on that we wanted to be a dance sort of band. That was really important to us,” he says. “With a lot of good bands there’s a sort of overall theme to their music and I think that’s kind of true with us.”

L.A. vs. New York

Q. Who dances more at your shows? East Coasters or West Coasters?

New York I guess is like London. In the shows there’s a lot of cool people and they like to watch and take it in, but they’re not going to get too enthusiastic about it. In L.A. everyone seems a bit more happy and probably more likely on something and physical and stuff. One of the best shows we ever did was in Philadelphia.

Junior Boys will be boys

Jeremy Greenspan always fails. He counts on it. It’s one of the most consistent things about his career. As the founding member of the Canadian electro-pop duo Junior Boys, he’s tried to make everything from an R&B record to a house record — but those efforts have never quite panned out.

“I think one of the good things about us is, if I ever say to myself I want to make an R&B record or a house record, we’re not really good with that,” Greenspan explains. “If we were good at pulling off at what we intend, I don’t think we’ll be that good. We just always end up sounding like ourselves.”

And no one is complaining about the Junior Boys staying true to their breezy, danceable sound. Their new album, “It’s All True” drops today and Greenspan says that while this one will be consistent with their  trademark sound, it will also explore some unconventional territory in the lyrics.

“Musicians are supposed to talk about what they see and what they experience or their personal lives and relationships, but I feel like it’s often the case that you’re not supposed to write about your music career,” Greenspan says. “That to me seems stupid. There’s nothing musicians think more about than music.”

Greenspan also lets us in on a little secret: don’t be fooled by the jubilant sounds you’re hearing.

“In some ways, if we have a song that sounds happy, chances are we’re not,” he says, going a step further to link their music back to ’70s disco.

“There’s some kind of thing that happens between a depressing context or topic like and this sort of joyful music,” Greenspan muses. “I think a lot of disco has this quality where it’s this uplifting music with some dark subtext going on. There’s this joyful music that didn’t reflect a joyful cultural context. It was sort of an escape.”

Mix master

The Junior Boys have done dozens of remixes for a wide range of artists, so we asked Greenspan for some insight into how they do it.

“The most fulfilling remixes are when you take from the original, take it apart, then re-arrange. If you’re remixing someone who is good, you can only take a bit of it apart.

“If you’re remixing something you don’t like so much, you are doing it for the paycheck. Chances are you’re going to write your own track and keep as little as you can from the original song.”

Incomparable, Janelle Monae

Janelle Monae is a rarity: an artist who has such a singular yet palatable vision and sound that she reignites a cynic’s excitement for music in the post-aughts. By blending everything from high-minded cinematic score with funky R&B and classic rock, the 26-year-old stunned her fan base with her debut album “The ArchAndroid.” Monae spoke to Metro about the process of topping what has already been considered a modern masterpiece.

Are you done recording your next album?

Oh, no. I’m constantly recording, recording now. It’s a very exciting time. We’ve been on tour and I’ve had the opportunity to visit so many places and meet so many people. We’ve had the pleasure of touring with Stevie Wonder and Prince. We’re in an extremely creative mode, and we’re making sure we’re going to be able to execute [it] properly.

Have you or the label set a date for the album’s release or are you just letting it evolve?

Well, I don’t know the date of when the scarecrow meets the villain in Metropolis and the Metropolis wipes out everyone in the 22nd century.

You had a lot of guest artists on the last album. Can you tell me about anyone who might be appearing on the new one?

Well, on the last album, I didn’t have many guest artists. That’s just that it’s only close friends that I’m a fan of their music, like Saul Williams and Kevin Barnes [from Of Montreal] … just a really close family of us don’t believe in the politics of working with people because their celebrity status.

What’s your approach to this new album?

The concepts will be stronger, will be very relatable to the people that I think about, like working class and working each and every day — just creating medicine for them, an experience, and a motion picture for them. Again, we’re not in the business of getting rid of a formula that is ours, so we’re staying true to our roots while at the same time creating more formulas.

I had the pleasure and honor of interviewing Billy Corgan for his new tour with the Smashing Pumpkins. Yes, there’s no one from the original band besides him touring now. Yes, I was totally excited to interview him because I had a poster of The Smashing Pumpkins on my wall when I was a teenager. It was the one of them behind a tree as you see here. They look so uncharacteristically cheery. I loved how incongruous it was. Anyway, he was very thoughtful and generous in the interview and I only wish I had more time to talk to him further, but in case all of this doesn’t make it to the work website, I’m posting it here.

Does the music you write under the Smashing Pumpkins name differ from material you’ve written as Zwan or your self-titled work?
It’s weird because the whole idea with the Pumpkins originally that evolved in the early days was more that it was supposed to be kind of an experimental excitement kind of thing whereas away from the Pumpkins, I tend to write a little bit more traditional music. [It’s] probably a little more obvious in a way. For whatever reason, the Smashing Pumpkins, the idea of the band or the spirit of the band, has always pushed me to force myself out of my comfort zone. If it’s just me, Billy Corgan, I guess I want to try different things. There’s something about the way the band was formed as being in awe of rock and roll but also wanting to destroy rock and roll. That spirit still pervades everything that goes on with the Pumpkins. Somehow that only seems to exist under that banner. Once I get away from that, I don’t seem to have those agendas.

So then, how does one destroy rock and roll?
Maybe it’s different now, but let’s say 20 years ago there was sort of an unwritten rule that you don’t talk about how fake rock and roll really was. If you saw this interview with Iggy Pop and he was talking about these amazing books he was reading, people would scratch their heads and say, ‘I thought he was kind of stupid and rolled around in glass.’ They would be disappointed. So the Pumpkins came along and were willing to poke holes particularly in the indie alternative world, in the facetiousness of the whole thing, this idea that we were all living in vans down by the river. Kurt [Cobain] just rolled out of bed one day and wrote this song and fell back asleep next to his tent out in the woods. It was this kind of fantasy that musicians were a subterranean class, were able to create works of incredible beauty or something. So we were just like, oh f—k all that.

Do you think that exists now?
No, we’re so far away from that naivete. It’s been completely hijacked by the poseur class.
 
The poseur class?
Here’s how I define the poseur class. When I was 18 years-old and I first started hanging out at the alternative club in Chicago, which was called Medusa’s, which was 18 and older to get in. It was where I was first exposed to New Order and Bauhaus, stuff like this. I would stand on the street and I’d see these kids my age – the guy’s got the mohawk and a leather jacket. He’s got a bad attitude. And I’d be like “wow, that guy’s incredible.” He was way more into it than I was. Five days later I’d be walking down the street still dressed the same way and I’d see the same guy with his hair parted down the side wearing a sweater and I’d almost not even recognize him. I’d be like, “what are you doing?” “Uh, coming back from school.” So like, the whole idea like you get dressed up like it, you are it. Now it’s like if you dressed up like it, you are it. I remember standing at the bus stop with the Robert Smith haircut getting called homophobic slurs because I lived in an Italian and Polish neighborhood. Obviously my big black hair was threatening to them so everywhere I went, I was under threat of violence for having funny Robert Smith hair. That’s a different world to live in - you’re so committed to your lifestyle and your alternative ideas that you’re willing to get your ass kicked over it. It’s not so dangerous anymore.

So, there are no taboos anymore?
Well, I think it’s reasonable [to say] that it’s been fully explored. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. All art goes through that. I like to say that when Picasso was one of the progenitors of cubism, after about 23 years of it, everyone probably figured out all the different versions of it and it became kitsch art. And so in many ways, rock and roll has kind of become kitsch art. It’s not dangerous anymore, as much as it used to be. I personally was intimidated by Marilyn Manson, but the four thousand bands that came after him acting like him, I’m not so scared by.

But, where to go next? It’s kind of heart-breaking, looking at it that way.
Eh, I don’t think so. I think it’s just cartoon land. I think most of rock and roll will be cartoon. It’ll be dress up, play up, pretend, just like you see sometimes in rap. It’s like they’re talking about shooting people but they didn’t really shoot anyone. And yeah in rock and roll they’re going to be talking about rock and roll and how they shoot up and really all they shot up was [vitamin] B12. It’s going to be more of a fantasy, video game type version of rock and roll. Of course, there will always be real artists that sing real songs, but I think they’re going to have a hard time competing against the cartoon version of the same thing.

Where do you see innovation happening in music?
Honestly, I think in terms of predicting something, the future of rock and roll is probably in mixed media. Because it always starts in the basement with a 16 year-old. What can she do to actually change rock and roll? Maybe she figures out a very cheap, easy but creative way to combining moving image, a personal vision, and music. So imagine like, a 16 year-old girl puts out a 20 minute film that she did on her own of moving images, songs that she created and suddenly, a million teenage boys and girls connect to what she’s doing, not just because of the song, but also the way she’s cut the music and the sound effects, like a personal statement of her world but more three dimensional than say just music is. I think that’s the future of rock and roll. I don’t think it’s in the two-dimensional sonic realm anymore. I think it’s ultimately in combining visuals because obviously with HD, you see technology getting cheaper and cheaper. People can shoot really interesting things. There’s so much computer ability to manipulate images. So if a kid can make what used to be a $200,000 dollar video in a basement for 200 bucks, and really make a statement that will touch people, I think that will blow normal audio music out of the water.

So by extension are you saying that there’s no music that can be written that’s new?
I would say 99.9 percent of what can be done in rock and roll has been explored. I felt that way in the ‘90s. Not that you would dredge up a quote, but I was saying that stuff in the ‘90s. I just think it tapped itself out. I think that’s why you see less and less great songs. If we went back in a time machine, you and I would’ve been able to find ten songs that you could say would last, we’ll still be singing these in ten years. You’d have a hard time finding those ten songs now.

Well you brought it up, so give me those ten songs.
Well, you have incredible songs like “Smells Like Teen Spirit” or “Jeremy” by Pearl Jam or “Man in the Box” by Alice in Chains or “Black Hole Sun” by Soundgarden, any number of Hole songs or Nine Inch Nail songs. There was a lot of memorable work there. It’s easily recalled. [Today] you think of band, more like their sound or their style, but that one song doesn’t necessarily come to mind and I think that’s been sort of lost in the rush towards the cartoon world.

But it’s still all about the singles today.
Well, and I might be completely out of touch, but I just don’t see those cross-over moments like you used to, where suddenly somebody’s weird, strange take on music, even Bjork or Beck or something is suddenly in the mainstream. I don’t really see that anymore, do you? You might know better than I do, but I used to feel music more. You’d feel it. You’d walk passed somebody’s café and you’d hear it think, “what is that record?” I just think that everything’s really diffused and maybe there’s no point in trying to have that song anymore. It seems like there’s less moments and more of a loud din.

Also, touring under this name…
Yes, the behemouth, that’s what you’d say?

Yes! I’m sure in going into your back catalogue as you kind of have to, are there any songs that you love playing again and are there songs you’d never play again?
Honestly, every time I tour, I look at the whole list and I go with what I feel. Songs we’re playing on this tour, some songs I haven’t played in like 15 years, 17 years.

Like what? Which songs?
Oh, I can’t give that away. But some songs you play and it’s ‘oh, it feels good to play this after 17 years.’ But nothing’s prohibitive. I love playing my songs. I’ve gotten a bad rap for being picky about what I’ll play and I’m not saying it’s not deserved but it’s weird because sometimes it’s not so much that I don’t want to play the song but it’s the audience’s expectations that effect what I want to play. I’ll give you a perfect example. We’ll play – and I’m only talking about the past. I don’t think this will have much relevance on the new tour because we’re playing a slightly different show – but you’ll play a new song that’s a pretty good song, a song you have confidence that it’s a pretty good song and the audience applauds and then you play a mediocre old song and the audience acts like it’s the greatest song they’ve ever heard. As an artist, you’re standing there saying, OK, that’s not real. That’s not a real reaction to what’s happening. That’s a memory-sensory reaction. And I understand that it’s about appreciating it. I do appreciate that. But at some point, you’re like, I can’t jive with this reality because if I follow this reality, this is a dead end. So, it’s about finding stuff that you can really feel strongly about, that you’ll actually to get the audience to feel what you’re playing in that moment.

So it’s about getting the order of things right?
No, it’s like, look, I don’t know how many songs that I’ve got that are like no-brainer songs that I should play. And no matter how badly I play them, the audience is going to be like ‘yeaaaah.’ My job is to put that song into a position that when I do play it, the person in the audience not only has the experience of ‘oh cool, he’s playing that song’ but they actually hear something different in the song or feel something different in the song because of the way it’s been portrayed or where it is in the set. That’s the difference between phoning it in and actually giving a fuck about how to make this work so that somebody walks out and goes, ‘you know what? There’s a lot of bands out there but there’s something more special about the Smashing Pumpkins for this set of reasons.’ That’s always what I’ve operated on and I’m disappointed by so many of my contemporaries just phoning it in. I couldn’t be more harsh on my generation at this point about just playing the old records and just picking up the cash. My point on that is beyond the business point. People deserve to have that experience in a way that will make them realize that something is still here. We’re not living in 1994. We’re in 2011 and this music is important because it still connects you to something today, not 15 years ago when you were in the back of the car with Sally. Nostalgia is the death of all art. I’ve read quotes like this and I wish I could quote one fancy-like but there’s quotes like, ‘sentimentalism is the death of art.’ Because it means that you’re not in the moment you’re in. Art, it must always be held into account – can it survive today? That’s why when you go to the Louvre, they don’t have every picture ever painted. It’s the ones that have made the cut, because somebody in 2011 can stand there and look at some 500 year old painting and actually feel something.

Well this reminds me about the news recently that R.E.M. has broken up. Some of us were saying cynically that they might’ve broken up only so that they can do a reunion tour in 5 years when everyone will get excited about them again.
Well, nothing against them, I think that is a completely reasonable way to look at it considering what the business has turned into. The only thing I’d say is that I know those people personally and I know that that would be the last thing that they would do. If that was their strategy, they would just go quiet for five years and then pick it back up with a really focused plan. That’s not in their DNA. They’ve never been that calculating. That’s why they’re one of the great bands, because that’s just not in their bones.

In that case, if you care to speculate, why would they break up now?
Well believe it or not, I actually have inside information but I can’t reveal it. That’s the good part about my job – I get all the inside dirt. But I can only speak from my own experience. It’s really difficult to maintain any relationship for a long time. We all know that. It doesn’t matter if you love the person to death. A band is ultimately an artificial construct. People grow up, people change. At some point, maybe you look at each other and you say, ‘this just doesn’t mean the same thing to us that it once did.’ That’s actually not a bad thing. That’s an honest thing. If those guys ever decide to get back together again, that’s great. I know those guys. It would because they give a f—k. Those are real musicians. I know them all personally enough to say that. I couldn’t say that about a lot of people.

Speaking of that, are you at all in touch with your old Smashing Pumpkins band mates James Iha, D’Arcy Wretsky and Jimmy Chamberlain?
No, no. That’s all so dark and ugly. I’m sort of at the point where I don’t want to go into specifics anymore.

Well, that’s the impression that I’ve gotten.
Yeah, I don’t feel like you’re digging. It’s just, they put me in a situation where, all things being equal and the history of the band, everything that we went through together, there should be something like, let’s call it a comfortable, open channel to do certain things together, even if it’s not music and they have made it completely impossible for me to do that. All I can do is shrug and move on. They’ve only hurt themselves in that. It’s hard to say this the right way and I hope it comes out the right way. There are a lot of fans who really care about them as people. And by kind of cutting me off, they’ve cut themselves off from their own experience of the Smashing Pumpkins fan base and that’s a shame because they deserve that. I feel bad for them on that because that’s part of their life and their history. My own personal opinion is that as people aside, they still deserve to have those relationships and they’ve made those relationships impossible.

OK, well those are all of my questions. Thank you so much.
Thank you for a nice interview.

Good luck on the tour.
Thank you. Have a nice day.