Paradise: Land of the Meat Puppets
CDNOW, September 25, 2000
""Meat Puppets Version 2.0" by David McGurgan, CDNOW Editorial Staff
After five years of silence, career setbacks, and life-threatening drug problems, the Meat Puppets return.
Curt Kirkwood, singer and guitarist of the Meat Puppets, endured an extended period of hardships in the mid-'90s. His brother and bassist, Cris (whom Curt describes as "so much smarter than I am in so many ways"), fell victim to drug addiction, leaving the band's future in question. The band's lower-profile, necessitated in part by Cris' illness, doomed No Joke (the 1995 follow-up to their successful Too High to Die) to failure. At the same time, the Kirkwoods' mother was battling cancer, eventually succumbing to the disease in 1996.
Kirkwood, reeling from years of hard luck, put the Meat Puppets on indefinite hiatus and spent two years in Los Angeles writing and playing with guitarist Kyle Ellison. Ellison was a member of Pariah, a hard rock band whose one album on Geffen was lost in the post-Nirvana shuffle. Shortly after Pariah was dropped in 1995, Ellison experienced a tragedy of his own: His brother and bandmate, Sims, took his own life after a long and private struggle with depression. From that tragedy, The Sims Foundation, an organization dedicated to providing mental health services for the entire music community, was born.
Kirkwood relocated to Austin to be closer to Ellison and, in 1997, began performing with a new band that included drummer Shandon Sahm (whose father, guitarist Doug Sahm, passed away in late 1999), and bassist Andrew Duplantis. The group, initially called the Royal Neanderthal Orchestra, gigged periodically in Texas, developing new material while Kirkwood's record contract with London records remained in legal limbo.
With things falling into place, the new band revived an old name: the Meat Puppets. After five years of silence, sensational articles about Cris' drug use, record company gridlock, relocation, and reformation, the Pups are back with a new album, Golden Lies, the Meat Puppets' 11th to date. The album was released by Breaking Records, a joint venture between Atlantic Records and Hootie and the Blowfish.
CDNOW recently spoke with Curt Kirkwood about what lies ahead.
CDNOW: Does the title of the new record have meaning?
Curt Kirkwood: No. It was mostly failed band names like People United Against People that we'd come up with. Golden Lies is a song that's not on the record. Shandon wound up asking the Magic Eight Ball about it, and it repeatedly told him it was good.
That is an interesting way to make a decision. When you need band advice, is there anyone else besides the Magic Eight Ball whose opinion you trust?
I don't trust the Magic Eight Ball; I trust myself. I didn't really care what it was named. A rose by any other name is still a rose.
Speaking of trying to come up with names, why the name change from Royal Neanderthal Orchestra to Meat Puppets?
That was just what we called it while I was trying to figure out if I still wanted to do Meat Puppets or not. And rather than try and throw caution to the wind, we went out under that hastily chosen auspice just to play. We were bored really.
Were you planning all along to wake the Meat Puppets from dormancy?
I didn't really know what to do. I hadn't anticipated a rock band. I was just letting things happen, because the band had just come together again. It kind of remade itself again like Terminator from the parts.
Once we had the band, after a while, we wanted to play some shows, and we were really confused about the state of things at the record company. I think the first show we did, we had people trying to ask us if they could sign us. That was confusing, because the Universal/PolyGram merger held up the whole thing for years.
What I have maintained all along is that the fucking band pulled my ass through. The music. Thank God that it turned back around and that I pulled my head out of my ass and realized that.
The band's personal life, including yours, has been the subject of debate on message boards and in several articles. How have you been able to deal with that?
Whatever anybody wants to say is bitchin'. It's not my personal life they're discussing -- it's Cris'. It has been years since we parted ways. I've talked to Cris two or three times since then. It tears my heart out.
It's like the Neil Young song, "The Needle and the Damage Done." I always wondered what he had been through. Now it's just like, 'Whoa, I don't want to know.' I hope nobody ever has to find out. You better pray that the people you love don't stumble across that shit.
Was your mom able to see you experience success before she passed away?
I think my mom was glad when we made some money. I think she got it more and more. She went on tour with me in late 1995 over in Europe. And that was a blast. But she mostly sat backstage and played Tetris, and she thought we were too loud and trite for sure. She was a really smart person.
And how about your father?
My dad would never come to a show, no way. His wife told me that once years ago. He came to my mom's funeral even though they haven't been married since 1963 or 1964, but come to a Meat Puppets show? I don't think so.
He's a real nice guy, but I'm sure he would think everybody there was an asshole just like I do. 'What are all these assholes doing? They're here to see your stupid band? That's funny.'
Meat Puppets have always had a strong fan base. How do you feel about your fans?
One thing I really love is the way that people get into idol worship with a group like the Beatles. I'm glad everybody likes my [music], but I'd start franchises if I could. Fuck it. I don't need to be there. I just write the shit. It's like the guy in the mouse costume. Nobody gives a shit who is in the mouse costume as long as it looks like Mickey. So basically that's always how I've been about it.