If you’ve been continuously updating your alternative/indie-rock playlist for the past several years, it’s almost impossible not to have come across Nada Surf.
In 1996 the band broke into the airwaves with “Popular,” the first single from its debut album “High/Low.” The song became an anthem across the globe, mostly to teenage music fans.
Nada Surf is anything but short-lived. The band has encountered obstacles but the worst has long been over. It has moved on to release six albums since its debut, the latest of which is last year’s “The Stars are Indifferent to Astronomy.”
Nada Surf, originally a trio composed of Matthew Caws (guitar, vocals), Daniel Lorca (bass) and Ira Elliot (drums), has added a new member, Doug Gillard (formerly of Guided By Voices), who officially joined last year.
In this interview, Caws looks back on his band’s journey, his favorite Nada Surf albums, and why the group looks forward to playing in Manila.
How does it feel to be a sought-after act after nearly two decades?
It’s very gratifying. It’s a surprise in a way. I think people often have more than one opinion and more than one thought about how things are gonna go. On one hand I thought, “Wow that’s crazy, we have a successful song, we never expected that, and we’ll probably disappear after this.” I just like playing with my friends. But on the other hand, I thought we’d become successful at one point and stay that way forever. So it’s like I have a lot of confidence, but I also hide it from myself. That’s not the way the world works.
Where is Nada Surf now in terms of growth and maturity?
Like a lot of other bands, we started out trying to sound like the bands we love, which were Sonic Youth, Sebado, The Pixies, and Pavement… And of course we couldn’t do it. We just sounded like us instead. The biggest difference is, after all these years, we never tried to sound like anybody anymore, we just try to play as naturally as possible.
Was Doug Gillard already part of Nada Surf when you recorded your latest album?
Yes, he was. The record we did before this one was a cover record, “If I Had a Hi-Fi.” I was a big fan of Doug and I went to a concert with friends. We were standing upstairs, a bunch of guys with beards, talking, and he comes to me kind of drunk and says, “Hey, if you ever want me to play some James Honeyman Scott for any of your records, I’d love to.” James Honeyman Scott is the deceased guitar player of The Pretenders. I think, among a lot of musicians, he seemed to be the standard of anybody who’s technically, incredibly good, but just always serves the song and plays these beautiful catchy parts. And you know, it’s such a great thing to say, so I said, “Sure!”
Doug came in to play three songs on the cover record, and the part where he plays was so special that we didn’t want to play those songs without him. We brought him on tour for this cover record and I thought I never want to play without him again. I think he’s just the best. We’re incredibly lucky to have him.
One night after a show in Germany, we were sitting around playing songs and for some reason we got on the ’70s, and he played like 20 songs in a row. I said, “I didn’t know you knew all those.” He said, “I don’t.” (Laughs) He can think something and just play it. If he’s heard something, he can play it. People say that about jazz musicians and even classical musicians, but he’s on that level.
Could you describe the creative process behind your songwriting? Has it changed over the years?
Well, I can’t do it on purpose. It’s hard for me to sit down and say I’m gonna write a song today, but very often it’s a special kind of feeling—either a feeling of ecstasy, like I feel so good that I want to take a picture of it. And you can’t take a photograph of a feeling. But a song or a story or a painting or a sculpture is kind of like a photograph of a feeling. So I do that.
It tends to be that, it’s extreme happiness or extreme sadness that push me to do it. But it’s really a compulsion. I don’t have a lot of discipline. So the fact that I’ve written so many songs kind of means that they’re not something I do with discipline. They’re something I do as some kind of artistic drug. I just let it happen.
Radio isn’t as popular as it used to be. Many people now listen to music online. Do you think it’s a good thing? Does the fact that everyone’s on the Internet nowadays help you as a band?
If the Internet had never happened, then we would sell many more records. The only problem is if the
Internet didn’t happen and you got into a disagreement with your record company, you might literally disappear. Whereas now, when something changes in your business life, it doesn’t really change your relationship with your audience. You can always stay in touch with them and they can always find you. So it makes things more democratic. And it makes it possible to really have a relationship with your audience.
I think the big mistake was when music started to be sold on the Internet. I think every song should have cost 5 cents. Not a dollar. Because if it’s a dollar as it is on iTunes, of course people would steal music. It’s too expensive. But if it’s 5 or 10 cents, I feel like morality would play a part. If your friend was stealing music and it was 5 cents, you’d say, “Hey man, you should pay for that, c’mon!” It’s actually mean to steal something that’s 5 cents. And then artists could survive more easily. Ultimately of course I’m very glad that a lot of people can hear our music, so that’s great. No complaints, just observations.
You’ve released seven albums so far. Do you have a favorite?
I think my two favorites really are “Let Go” and this last one.
“Let Go” because it represents a really special period for me. After we made our second record, “The Proximity Effect,” it was dropped by our American label, then we had to take a lot of time to get on the right track. So, to write that record I had two years of a kind of second adolescence. Because the band was still serious enough and I didn’t feel like I could go to graduate school and get a real career.
I think I used it as an excuse, honestly, but I was in my late 20s, early 30s, yet I was living a totally post-college life. Living in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, working in a record store, going out most nights, just living the life of a half-lazy, half ambitious artist with no real worries in the world, except just pursuing a craft. And now I’m a real adult, and I have real adult concerns. You know, life isn’t like that anymore. But it’s over the last golden period of kinda like being a teenager. But even more exciting, because I had a band and was working on a record.
“The Stars are Indifferent to Astronomy,” I’m very fond of because we made this cover record and realized that it’s really good to have the work finished—it’s good to do your homework. That’s why I worked so hard getting the [last] record ready. We went in the studio and did the music in 5 days. That’s just so good because for a few years we’ve been finishing records in the studio which is exciting, indulgent, expensive, and kind of stupid. This was sort of a good step in the direction of sanity.
What was the best compliment you’ve received in appreciation of your music?
This is our very very first band, we were called The Cost of Living, and Daniel and I were 16 years old. On our second concert we played in a street fair in downtown New York. And Richie Havens, who passed away recently, and has played in Woodstock, also was on that show. He came up to us and said, “You guys are pretty good.” You know, good luck, you’re gonna be something. And he didn’t need to say that. We probably weren’t very good. But it meant so much to us. I think it gave us a lot of strength and when he passed away last I remembered it and I really thought how much I’d gotten from that. It was really valuable.
There are hundreds and hundreds of instances of just talking to a fan and realizing that they had used us for comfort. In the same way that I use so many things for comfort. And it just feels good because it’s like giving back. I think without music and books I would feel so alien in this world, because I don’t feel like everybody else necessarily. I don’t mean better. I just mean I’ve always felt a little different. And in a way it made me feel a little bit lonely, I think. And to have somebody come up and say that you helped them through that feeling or helped them to be OK, it’s really wonderful. I don’t take it as being so great, it just feels good to help somebody. I know it’s very corny, maybe a really obvious answer, but that’s that, the truth.
You’ll be playing in Manila for the first time. Did you ever think you’d be playing here?
No (laughs). It’s amazing! I thought years ago we’d gotten everywhere we were gonna go. It’s one of the most exciting things left for us, to play in a new country. It’s incredible. We’re really excited. And it’s right in the middle of a period of total inactivity. You can tell that we really wanna do it, because if someone offered us a show almost anywhere right now we would say no, because we’re taking a little time off. But when that offer came, we were sort of, “Yeah, sure, great!”
