In the midst of the excited grunge thrashings coming from their home state of Washington in the early '90s, they seemed anomalous, anonymous--a bad American copy of the harder-edged Teenage Fanclub. Albums like 1993's Frosting on the Beater and 1990's Dear 23 left me jaded, cold. "Is this what pop has come to?" I wondered to myself. "Tired, third-generation copies of originals that were too elitist and self-immolating anyway?"
Singer Ken Stringfellow's involvement as guitarist with the revamped version of Big Star, and later as touring keyboardist with R.E.M., impressed me even less. Both bands were pale reflections of former glories. Both bands had been dismally overhyped and overrated by white-boy commentators scared of sharp angles. Both bands were--frankly--bland as shit. Yes, you could say that I wasn't Mr. Stringfellow's Number One Fan....
Nice chap, though. Almost relentlessly polite whenever we'd meet.
It was his solo outing, 1997's sprawling This Sounds Like Goodbye, which changed my mind. Freed of commercial and corporate considerations, weighed down by what seemed to be an almost scary belief in romance and friendship, songs like the distorted, fuzzed-up "Your Love Won't Be Denied" and "Here's to the Future" spoke to me with a sudden, almost blinding clarity. There was humor present, too! Witness the deprecating nod at album fillers and triphop, "A Short Drum Break." Sure, it's patchy... but that's good. Perfection doesn't exist. Soon I began to understand the fanatical regard his supporters hold him in. Now, Ken has a new band, Saltine, and a new single, the rather sweet "Find Yourself Alone."
Time to ask questions.
The Stranger: Is getting wasted the secret of life?
Ken Stringfellow: I can tell you from great experience, no. But only because there is no secret of life as far as I can tell. Unless everyone's keeping quiet on it. It's great exercise, though. There isn't a secret to being happy. It just happens. If I have to get philosophical--surrendering. Surrendering yourself to life.
Do you consider yourself a romantic?
For sure. I'm actually a dandy. A dandy is someone who is completely comfortable with being completely impractical in an expressive way. It's 24 hours a day, socially interactive, eccentric. It comes out in every aspect of your life... owning a top hat doesn't hurt. And yes, I do have one.
What's the story with Saltine?
Not much. Just another band. My band. We're making a record. In between everything else I'm doing, we're starting to do our thing for real... figuring out who's gonna play what, how it should sound. Everything about Saltine so far has been icy blue and gunmetal gray. That will continue for a long time.
What motivates you to make music past the age of 30?
Nothing, really. It's all about spontaneity. It just occurs. I'm not super-attached to the concept. It's quite fun. I've always made music since I was a little kid. Back then, it was piano-y type things--I had piano lessons when I was young, and I was a very bad student, so I got by by faking it. All music is faking it, in a way.
How did you hook up with R.E.M.?
By not trying. Someone suggested I should play with them on tour, and next thing I know there are some airplane tickets on my table. I got to play keyboards, play a little bass, wear some nice suits, and hang out with a bunch of really nice people. Most surreal moment? During "Everybody Hurts," at Glastonbury, predictably enough. It was dark, lighters started lighting up, and by the time the wave reached the back of the crowd, you could see people on the horizon on three sides of us. Then there was a festival in Belgium where it was pouring down rain. Lightning was striking the ground half a mile away, like it was orchestrated.
What makes great pop music?
Simplicity. If you juxtapose one or two or three really simple elements, you get something that's just complicated enough to be compelling without being pretentious. Even in seemingly complicated music like far-out jazz, this holds true. There's simplicity at the root of all the good stuff. Some kind of trueness, so to speak.
How would you like to be remembered?
As one of the premier dandies from 'round the turn of the 21st century.
