Fairies Wear Boots
From: Kerrang!, 2003-04-01
Date added: 2003-04-12 Former Hole/Smashing Pumpkins bassist Melissa Auf Der Maur is back with a mission: to kick the shit out of the chauvinist pigs who believe there is no place for women in rock. It's a typically hectic lunchtime in the West Hollywood headquarters of Kung Fu Records. Snack on sandwiches and candy bars, employees and interns are fielding phone calls, printing off band biographies, addressing adhesive labels and stuffing CD's into envelopes, so that the punk-rock loving folks of America and beyond can have their appetite for The Vandals, The Ataris and Assorted Jelly Beans met as soon as possible. Down on the shop floor, label owner/Vandals bassist Joe Escalante is at the center of this happy hub of productivity, oblivious to the peals of laughter emanating from the small white-walled photo studio at the rear of the building. In this studio, a young woman fights to maintain a straight face as she twists, twirls and pirouettes for the camera. Today, fashion fans, Ms Melissa Auf der Maur, is sporting a sheer, all white, two-piece fringed outfit, beneath which, on her lower back, you can just make out a rather crudely drawn tattoo of a duck, an accessory she acknowledges was an ill-advised choice. The look is Fallen Angel Meets Ozzy Osbourne Circa 'Volume 4', a look that the vivacious Canadian musician last sported three nights ago onstage at the famous Viper Room on LA's Sunset Boulevard fronting her Black Sabbath tribute band Hand of Doom. Put simply, this outfit rocks. You'd like Melissa Auf der Maur. She lit up the Kung Fu Records headquarters with her smile when she strolled in at lunchtime clutching a cup of Starbucks and a copy of super-hip N.Y.C. pop-culture mag 'Vice', all apologies for her late arrival. And as she chats about the shoot with longtime friend and Kerrang! photographer Lisa Johnson she's relaxed and friendly, if a little tired. Last night, she teamed up with drummer Samantha Maloney (her former colleague in Hole), A Perfect Circle bassist Paz Lenchantin and guitarist Radio from recently defunct Portland riot grrrls The Need, to play a "really, really fun" gig under the band name Chelsea at trendy Silverlake club Spaceland, and today her soft, Canadian accent is a little huskier than normal due to her vocal exertions. For Auf der Maur, Chelsea and Hand of Doom - a quintet assembled around her New York fashion designer friend Molly Stern - are perfect, low-key, fun ways to re-introduce herself to the live arena. Chances are you won't have seen or heard anything from Auf der Maur, since the 28-year-old walked off the stage of Chicago's Metro Club at the end of Smashing Pumpkins' emotional farewell shaw on December 2, 2000. This is no accident, because after six years as a self-confessed "soldier of music" with first Hole and then the Pumpkins, the bassist wanted a break from the business. And so, on New Year's Day 2001, she returned to her hometown of Montreal, packed away her bass and began just getting in touch with herself again, away from the spotlight. "I promised myself that I'd let go of music altogether for a year and let it come back to me if it wanted to," she explains. "And I accepted that if it didn't come back I wasn't going to force it. For all I knew rock music and I were going our separate ways." "Will the world end in the day time?/(I really don't know)/Will the world end in the night time?/(i really don't know)/Is there any point ever having children?/(I really don't know)/All I do know is that we're here and it's now/So stretch out and wait." Cheerful, eh? If you'd come upon this Morrisey quote (lifted from Mancunian miserablists The Smiths' 'Stretch Out and Wait') beneath a picture of an unsmiling, pale redhead in the yearbook of Montreal's Fine Arts Core Education high school in the late '80s, you might surmise that this particular graduate student would be 'Student Most Likely to Perish From Self-Inflicted Razor Blade Wounds In A Black-Walled Bedit'. A decade on, though, the world is still intact, and that Canadian redhead can look back upon her gloomy musings with a smile. "I definitely had some issues back then," Auf der Maur says with a light chuckle. "And my state of mind right now? Put simply, the best ever. I feel like I'm in a beautiful wide open field with a big neon '2002' sign flashing above my head and there's music growing out of the soil. I feel like I'm 16 again, giddy with a puppy love for music once again." Melissa's self-imposed break from music lasted a full eight months - during which she concentrated on her other main love, photography - but by summer 2001, she was rooting around her parents' attic in Montreal in search of demo tapes full of riffs she's been stockpiling for years, with a view to drawing together material for her forthcoming solo album. About which we'll hear more later. Melissa only ever wanted to be a musician. Her mother Linda Gaboriau was a music journalist and rock DJ, while father Nick Auf der Maur, a well-known journalist-turned-crusading politician in Montreal, was a music fan too. Living with the "coolest parents ever", Melissa had a bohemian, alternative upbringing where self-expression was positively encouraged, not least in her liberal arts high school. By 16, Melissa had a boyfriend who looked like Paul Weller, a bunch of cool friends who were fellow "freaks" and her first band, Tinker. "I was a good kid always obsessed with rock music," she laughs, as we retire to a Latin American restaurant on Melrose Avenue. "I remember witing an essay analysing the 'Mods Versus Rockers' conflict in 'Quadrophenia'. But then everyone I knew was in bands, everyone was punk rock." Tinker quickly made waves in Montreal's small music scene, and in 1993 they were invited to open for Smashing Pumpkins in Montreal. Billy Corgan was impressed by her playing - so much so that when Hole lost bassist Kristen Pfaff to a herion overdose in 1994, Corgan recommended the young bassist to Courtney Love. Melissa moved to New York, joined Hole in time to tour their breakthrough record 'Live Through This' and began to live out her dream. But when Courtney asked Melissa to relocate to Los Angeles to soak up the vibe prior to the writing of Hole's 'Californian' record 'Celebrity Skin', things began to get a little out of focus for the young bassist. "My mother was so unhappy to hear that I had to move to Los Angeles because from my whole moral background L.A. seemed all wrong," Melissa, no fan of the city herself, admits. "That whole phase was very glitzy and bizarre and superficial. When I started tweezing my eyebrows and started going to Hollywood parties all the time instead of dive bars, I lost a little perspective on what's real." Were there times when you thought... "What am I doing here?" Melissa says completing the question herself, as the pasta she's ordered sits barely touched. "Yeah, definitely. I went with the flow because I considered it part of my experience with this band, part of my destiny. I'm glad I got to know LA and the whole American corporate entertainment business. I couldn't believe that pop music is no more an art form than Coca-Cola. It was such a priceless education and I feel a lot smarter and happier for knowing what I know." Although she recieved writing credits on half the 'Celebrity Skin' album, Melissa felt increasingly dissatisfied with her role in Hole. She officially left in October, 1999, desperate for a rest... only to have her old friend Billy Corgan swoop in to offer her a one year contract in what would be the final chapter of the Smashing Pumpkins' illustrious career. It was an offer she couldn't refuse, indeed an "honour", but there were no tears when that final gig at the Pumpkins' spiritual home the Metro rolled around 12 months later. You'd guess that you'd have to be a pretty tolerant, laidback person to be able to put with the planet-sized egos of Courtney Love and Billy Corgan for any length of time. Melissa laughs when I suggest this, but refuses to speak about the duo in anything but positive terms - Billy being described as "my mentor and friend" and Courtney being hailed as "a very smart, talented lady who speaks a lot of sense." For the record though, Melissa hasn't spoken a single word to Love since July 14, 1999 when she played her final gig with Hole in Vancouver. So you're not calling up for advice these days? "I've learned my lessons," Melissa smiles. "Now I'm applying them." The album Melissa Auf Der Maur is currently working on in LA has been "28 years in the making" according to the bassist. And the process has been "A very liberating experience". She's working with old colleagues from Tinker (who later became Blinker the Star), and collaborating with close friends from under-rated US bands Idaho and Chokebore. Smashing Pumpkins guitartist James Iha might contribute to the album, but at present neither Courtney Love nor Billy Corgan are scheduled to appear on what Melissa promises will be a "special" album. "I'm trying to put everything that's inside me into the album," she says with some pride. "I'm a lover of rock but I'm also a sentimental female, and that juxtaposition between the masculine, Viking sword-wielding man in me and the romantic, contemporary, feminine girl comes across in the music." Leading on on from this mention of Melissa's "romantic" side, I sidetrack to enquire about a rumour I've heard recently that she's dating 'Future of Rock' Andrew W.K.. I get as far as saying "I've heard a rumour..." only to look across the table and see that Melissa is blushing furiously. "Oh I don't know," she mutters quietly. I think that blush tells its own story, Melissa. "Oh it's terrible," she smiles, averting her eyes. "I was tortured in high school, because all my male friends knew that they could get me to blush just by saying 'blush'." So we'll move on then, shall we? "The thing about my personal life is that it's personal," she laughs, the redness slowly draining from her face. "End of story." "I always had a bit of a complex about fronting my own rock band," she continues quickly, getting back on safer ground. "I thought that my voice was too pretty for rock. But then from Billy to Josh Homme to Ozzy, all my favourite male singers have a feminine edge to their vocals anyway, so I've realised that my voice can work within a heavy rock context. And my album will definitely rock." As confident as Melissa is about her forthcoming album, she can see that there's one major problem facing her - the fact that snior record company executives in America tell her there's no place for a female-fronted rock band right now. The gains made by artists such as Bikini Kill, L7, Babes In Toyland and Hole in the early '90s seem to have been receded in the current testosterone-laden climate, and Melissa admits that the current state of the US music industry "scares the shit" out of her. "About five years ago I was thinking that the whole 'Women In Rock' issue was maybe dated, but now I'm back to square one where I think we have to talk about this," she says with her defiance burning in her eyes. "I want to make rock music but I'm very aware that there's a lot of chauvinism in the evil corporate empire where people are still like, 'Hmmm, can women actually play rock music?'. The only woman on alternative rock radio is Gwen Stefani," Melissa points out. "All respect to Gwen because she's totally cool and a great female presence, but what No Doubt do isn't even rock music really. I've been told that absolutely no women are being signed right now. The attitude is, 'Let's be safe and stick with Puddle Of Mudd or whoever'. That makes me want to do it even more." There's no doubting, Melissa's determination to kick against the industry bias and make her solo debut an international success. Sure, she could go 'underground' and release the album on a small indie label (like her friends in Montreal's Godspeed You Black Emperor!) but she wants a decent platform for her music, not least to give hope to other teenage girls dreaming of a career in music. "I'd like to be able to communicate to young women and young minds to speak hopeful and positive musical ideas to," she argues resonably. "It's part of my duty to try and remain in this arena." "This may be an uphill battle," she smiles, getting her pasta boxed up to take back to the studio. "But if Billy and Courtney taught me anything, it's to not walk away from a challenge." Side Panel
Shining Lights A world of cool through Melissa Auf der Maur's eyes... Debbie Harry
Melissa: "When I was a kid Debbie Harry was without question my idea of cool, she was one of the coolest people on the planet. In Blondie, she was feminine and fashionable and beautiful but she could also be tough and heavy and disturbing too. And when she raps in 'Rapture', that's the only time that rapping is acceptable in a rock context." Cat Power
Melissa: "Chan Marshall is a super-cool singer/songwriter. I've never met her but she seems like a fucking cool chick to me, the whole combination of her beauty, her voice and her edgy romanticism is very appealing." Anais Nin
Melissa: "She's one of my favourite writers ever. She wrote erotic literature that was somehow acceptable in the mainstream and she mingled with Henry Miller and photographers and artists of all kinds in a really amazing community in Paris." New York City
Melissa: "New York City is the most cool thing on the whole planet. Almost everything that is cool has come from New York, from the Velvet Underground, and Andy Warhol to the Ramones, Blondie and The Strokes. New York makes unlikely people into icons." The Desert
Melissa: "Through my love of Kyuss and Queens of the Stone Age I feel like I know what the desert feels like, smells and sounds like, even though I haven't spent that much time here. And if it's inspired Josh Homme, that's pretty cool by me." Transcribed by Hannah, thank you! Pictures that came along with this article: