Starting at the end
of the world

>> Abstract rockers Trans Am reunite, break their own rules and bust out a bright, ballsy new album

FORWARD MOMENTUM: Trans Am

by RUPERT BOTTENBERG

Trans Am’s 2004 album Liberation, which was understood to be their last, was so titled with intense, intentional irony. The Washington, D.C., trio of Phil Manley (guitar, keys), Nathan Means (bass, keys) and Sebastian Thomson (drums, beats) were directing their sleek, tough, highly abstracted future rock at the seething morass of mendacity, cynicism, negligence and grossly illiberal authoritarianism that was and is their hometown in the time of the Bush administration and its war on terror.

“Liberation was definitely the musical culmination of our time spent living and working in Washington, D.C.,” explains Manley by e-mail. “We all grew up there and had grown pretty sick of the political climate, particularly after Bush was re-elected. Jesus Christ, another four years of being surrounded by that administration and its madness, not to mention all the corporate lobbyist douchebags that populate D.C.

“It reached a boiling point and we all had to split town—Nathan to New Zealand, Sebastian to London, and I moved to San Francisco. While the political tide has turned, I think it’s a day late and $100-billion short. We’re all going down. Blame me, I voted for Nader.”

Feelin’ New Zealand

Had they saved the title Liberation for their sudden, surprising reunion album of earlier this year, rather than the provocative Sex Change, it would have been used without any bitter air-quotes. Recorded in part as far away from Washington as possible—after a stretch of time far from each other—Sex Change sloughs off the socio-political anxieties and anal-retentive methodology of previous efforts and, while not quite reviving the arch humour of 2002’s T.A., projects what Manley calls “a joyous quality.”

The upbeat attitude is a product of, firstly and paradoxically, distance and isolation. The three reconnected for a handful of shows Down Under and elected to stick around in New Zealand to record a bit. “We didn’t really know too many people, so we weren’t distracted. We slept on the floor at Nate’s house. Nathan has a one-year-old son, Caper, and we got to hang out with him. He offered a lot of priceless direction in producing the album. He’s really into Sabbath.”

The traditionally tech-obsessed trio was further, well, liberated by the absence of their familiar gear, substituting whatever they happened to borrow off pals—“the middle eight in ‘Conspiracy of the Gods,’” offers Manley, “was written in part to feature the Mellotron we borrowed from Chris Knox of Tall Dwarfs.”

While half the recording happened in New Zealand, the rest occurred at Okropolis, the Brooklyn base of operation for Oneida, a band with whom Trans Am are long-time friends, collaborators and kindred spirits. “We have a very similar ethos as bands—very DIY. Also, I think both bands have a certain compelling energy, a forward momentum. Maybe this is because both bands have really good drummers? Although their drumming styles are quite different, I think they drive both bands.”

Obscenity recharges

A final and perhaps paramount aspect of Sex Change was the comparably short period it was created in, a total of three weeks. “The songs were written in two weeks, actually. The third was just spent mixing. I like crash-and-burn sessions like that. It was good for us to have a tight timeframe, to make decisions on the spot rather than wait and decide later. It’s easy to fall into the soundhole when you own your own studio and have unlimited time to tinker and obsess over sound. In this session, we were more into capturing the energy of the three of us getting together and writing new songs after a long break.

“We are in tune with the way we operate as a band. Very few question marks after 14 years—I’ve been playing with Nathan for 20! Anyway, it’s a very intuitive process. A lot of going with the gut feeling. From the heart and hands. Not sure I can think of any more clichés that apply.”

Of course, such time limitations can’t afford creative blockage. Luckily, Trans Am have their Obscene Strategies, their own snarky variant on Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies—strange ideas scribbled on cards that can be randomly considered for escape routes. Whereas Eno might advise, “honour thy error as a hidden intention,” Trans Am suggest “take a nap” or “make it sound like Jackson Browne.”

“‘Rip off black musicians’ was a particular favourite of mine. This is, of course, nothing new in popular music,” says Manley, citing Elvis, the Rolling Stones and, um, Michael Jackson.

“The outcome of observing this Obscene Strategy is the song ‘Climbing Up the Ladder (Parts III and IV).’ We were listening to a lot of Isley Brothers. We took a loop of their ‘Climbing Up the Ladder (Parts I and II)’ and kept adding our own tracks to it. When we finally removed the loop, we had a song of our own.”

With Zombi and Psychic paramount
at la Sala Rossa on Tuesday, May 1, 9 p.m., $15