Palpitation nation

>>Hearts break and booties shake to the
“post-funk” beat of Woodhands

MAY CAUSE HEALTH PROBLEMS: Woodhands

by LORRAINE CARPENTER

“I guess we do rock some funk styles,” says Dan Werb. Understandably, he’s wary of the “post-funk” tag that has been flung at Woodhands, who rock several styles simultaneously. Montrealers may remember Werb as a keyboardist for Swimming regulars Red Pony Club, a big band that “made acceptable music,” he says. Woodhands is more excitable than merely acceptable, merging synth-pop elegance and punk urgency, hip hop production and yearning lyrics devoid of what he calls funk’s “unencumbered joy.” The Mirror discovered one source of Werb’s angst, and Woodhands’ album title, Heart Attack, as he and drummer Paul Banwatt passed the phone back and forth while driving dangerously amid B.C.’s mountains.

Mirror: How did Woodhands get started?

Dan Werb: Well, people who make music on their own, who can’t sing or play guitar, are usually electronic producers, so I figured I’d do that. I went out and bought a synth, drum machine and eight-track recorder, plus a stack of Kraftwerk records ’cause I needed to be schooled—I hadn’t really listened to electronic music.

M: So now you’re a convert?

DW: Actually, I gravitate towards hip hop more, Paul does too. We’re both really into that world and that production style. Hip hop producers run the show now, they’re the ones making the most awesome shit, so we want to steal their success, and arsenal. Uh, musical arsenal.

M: Not their actual firearms.

DW: Yes, yes, we’re not into that.

M: I hear that the album title is a reference to the impact of your live show.

Paul Banwatt: That’s probably true, but it’s not just the live show, it’s the band’s energy in general. For the purposes of the album, instead of letting songs go off in crazy directions for 10 minutes, we made them into four-minute pop songs. It’s still heart-stopping music. It’s not gonna kill you but it might cause health problems if you play it too loud and dance for too long.

DW: What Paul, being modest, didn’t say about our live show is that his fucking drumming is what propels it to a fever pitch.

M: Do you guys ever injure yourselves in the process?

PB: People crashed into us a couple of times. I don’t think Dan’s been as affected, his gear is treated with more respect, but people feel pretty free to fall into my drums, which is cool.

DW: My story is one of emotional and physical injury, fittingly. We played in a church in Victoria about a year and a half ago, and literally one person came—my brother, who I was really trying to impress. He thought I was a big loser. So we got all angry and drunk, and we put on these deacon’s robes we found in the back, and we were playing to, like, no one, the sound was fucking terrible. Then I fell off the stage and sprained my ankle really badly, which made me even more angry. Then I ran outside and I thought it would be a good idea to try to jump to this telephone pole wire that was so ridiculously high that I could never reach it. I basically jumped up and landed on my sprained ankle repeatedly, until my brother was like, “Yeah, uh, you’re leaving. You’re done.” He put an end to me self-destructing, and everything’s been much more civilized since then.

With Hilotrons and Mixylodian at
Club Lambi on Saturday,
April 19, 9 p.m., $10