A conversation with Jehnny Beth of Savages from 2013
The post-punk provocateur offers her take on Cassavettes, grindcore, Talk Talk, and that time her band shared a stage with Neil Sedaka
Welcome to stübermania, where I dig into my box of dust-covered interview cassettes from the 1990s, 2000s, and 2010s to present bygone conversations with your favourite alterna/indie semi-stars (and the occasional classic-rock icon). This is a newsletter in three parts: The Openers (links to recent writings, playlist updates, and/or other musical musings), The Headliner (your featured interview of the week), and Encores (random yet related links).
This is a free newsletter, but if you really like what you see, please consider a donation via paid subscription, or visit my PWYC tip jar!
THE OPENERS
Last weekend, I wrote about Henry Rollins' transformation into hardcore's Conan the Barbarian, the birth of sludge-metal, and the greatest Side 1-to-Side 2 switch-flip in rock history in my Pitchfork Sunday Review of Black Flag’s My War.
Also at Pitchfork this week: I wrote about a mortal orchestra’s latest venture into the unknown.
Over at Commotion on CBC Radio, I produced this episode featuring Tamara Lindeman (a.k.a. The Weather Station) and Dave Bidini (of Rheostatics) pondering the question of whether Canadian musicians should be touring the U.S. right now:
In the Toronto Star, I interviewed former-teen-punk-promoter-turned-label-impresario Eric Warner about the 20th-anniversary of We Are Busy Bodies, a.k.a. the only roster where you'll find Lee "Scratch" Perry's final recordings and NFB animator Norman McLaren's 1950s-era electronic soundtracks alongside Metz seven-inches and The Pursuit of Happiness vinyl reissues.
Among the many, many artists We Are Busy Bodies have helped elevate are Welsh punk pranksters The Bug Club, who just announced a June 13 release date for their next Sub Pop release, Very Human Features, and kicked off WABB’s 20th-anniversary concert series at Toronto basement grotto Longboat Hall with Tom Rees (a.k.a. lead singer for Buzzard Buzzard Buzzard, a.k.a. the Welsh Sloan) on drums. Quality times—and pints—were had:
Two nights earlier, in the same building, but in a different room (the Great Hall upstairs), I caught Geoff Barrow’s last local performance as the drummer for Beak> before he hangs up his sticks at tour’s end. But if Barrow is tired of the rock-show grind, he and his mates should just start a comedy podcast—this band’s bottomless supply of hypno-rock jams is matched only by their deep reservoir of salty stage banter.
Notes on this week’s additions to the stübermania 2025 jukebox:
The Bug Club, “Jealous Boy”: The surprisingly tender lead single from the aforementioned Very Human Features marks a dramatic change of pace from the Bugs’ usual cheeky, turbo-charged choons. And while it doesn’t seem to be inspired at all by John Lennon’s “Jealous Guy,” it does include shout-outs to Ringo Starr and “Twist and Shout.”
Mourning [A] BLKstar (feat. Lee Bains), “Stop Lion 2”: Cleveland’s 21st-century answer to early ‘70s Funkadelic return with a brassy blast of fiery rhetoric and slow-burning groove. (Look out for their new album, Flowers for the Living, on Don Giovanni on May 16.)
Destroyer, “Sun Meet Snow”: My initial impression of Dan’s Boogie is that it sounds fucking spectacular—giving Father John Misty’s Mahashmasha a run for its All Things Must Past mojo—but, thus far, latching onto the tunes feels a bit like trying to grab a smoke ring. In classic Bejar fashion, the album’s most immediately enchanting melody can be found in the song that lasts just 79 seconds.
Mess Esque, “Take Me to Your Infinite Garden”: I don’t know if I’ll ever get sick of hearing Yo La Tengo’s “You Can Have It All,” but should that day ever come, I’ll have this hit of post-rock soul from Dirty Three guitarist Mick Turner and singer Helen Franzmann cued up to fill the void.
Eliza Niemi, “DM BF”: On her new album, Progress Bakery, this Toronto-via-Halifax singer/songwriter (and guest cellist to the indie stars) playfully toes the line between dainty chamber-prog and irreverent DIY pop—and then there are those magical moments like this where those two sensibilities converge into sundazed soft rock smeared with mercurial Mac DeMarco-like guitars.
Prolapse, “On the Quarter Days”: This week in “didn’t have that on my 2025 cantankerous-UK-indie-rock bingo card” news—the tragically underrated motorik-punk armada Prolapse have surfaced with their first new music in a quarter century, and blessedly, they still sound exactly like The Fall circa ‘85 covering Neu! 75.
THE HEADLINER:
A conversation with Jehnny Beth
The date: June 24, 2013
Publication: The Grid
Location: I was at The Grid office in Toronto; Jehnny was in London
Album being promoted: Silence Yourself
The context: During a recent flip through the used bins at Toronto record shop Sonic Boom, I happened upon a copy of Savages’ 2013 debut album Silence Yourself for $19 semi-valuable Canadian dollars. I grabbed it immediately because it was one of those albums I fell in love with right as I was getting into the streaming habit, so I never procured a physical copy at the time of its release. (During the same visit, I also picked up a cheapish copy of Shamir’s debut Ratchet, so somebody seemed to be unloading their mid-2010s Best New Music impulse purchases.)
A post about my purchase on BlueSky led to some chit-chat with a fellow music writer about how Savages seemed destined to become one of the most vital bands of the decade, but completely fell off the radar as if they never existed. That’s a common fate for young bands hyped up by the British music press before their first album even comes out. But Savages feel like an especially tragic case of shoulda-woulda-coulda—because, unlike so many long-forgotten landfill-indie castaways, Savages were one of those rare bands that seemed to have their musical, visual, and ideological aesthetic locked in from day one, and from the moment I saw this video of them performing “City’s Full” in 2012, I was all-in.
A few months later, in March 2013, Savages played two shows at Canadian Music Week in Toronto, and after catching the first one at the Horseshoe, there was no question I’d be coming back for seconds at Lee’s Palace the following night. I have to admit that, after seeing them live, I was kind of intimidated by the prospect of interviewing lead singer Jehnny Beth, who, onstage, projected the sort of death-stare intensity that makes Ian Curtis on Something Else seem lackadaisical. Savages’ stern-faced reputation was compounded by a May 2013 profile in The Guardian, which began with an account of Beth admonishing drummer Faye Milton for the crime of getting excited about the possibility of meeting Elton John backstage at Coachella. The piece left you with the general impression that Beth would rather eat glass than subject herself to journalistic inquiry.
So when I rang her up that June, I was more than pleasantly surprised to be greeted by a cheerful and chatty speaker on the other end of the line who apologized for not picking up the phone sooner.
Are you good to go?
Yes, sorry, I was on the other line with another journalist, and she was a bit late.
That's OK. We're used to lateness in this line of work.
How are you doing? What time is it for you?
It's 10:30am here in Toronto.
OK, so morning time.
Yes. Have you had a full day of interviews already today?
I’ve had a few!
So is this starting to feel like a job yet?
Yes. Oh, very much. I'm trying not to take it too seriously…
So this weekend is Glastonbury. Does that festival hold any significance for you? Or is it just another gig?
Well, I have never been, so I'm going to discover the city of Glastonbury. Have you ever been there?
Yes, I went in 1998. And it was during the worst rainstorm in the history of England. But I got to see Nick Cave backstage wearing a pair of Wellies, so that was worth it.
OK, that sounds good!
But do you see big festivals as a pain in the ass, or is it a good opportunity to address a mass audience? Because it doesn’t seem like the ideal environment for experiencing your band…
They're definitely not ideal. Sometimes they're a nice surprise. I mean, we were in Holland this weekend doing a festival called Best Kept Secret. It's not a big festival, but we played at midnight, and there were a lot of young kids there, and we had a really great response—a big mosh pit, and that was really nice. So sometimes you have a good slot, and it's a party, really. But in general, we much prefer playing our own shows than playing festivals or playing support slots. We’ve been refusing a lot of support slots—not because we don’t necessarily like the band, but because it’s never as good as being able to curate your own show and present yourself in a different way. So whenever we can, in each country we go, we start with playing in clubs, and start from scratch all the time—which takes more time, but in a way you get to connect with people better. It’s just more work! But it’s more rewarding.
Did you always envision Savage as a band that would play to the masses? I guess the first place a lot of people in Britain saw you was on Jools Holland last year, and when you were on stage there, did you think, “this is exactly where this band should be,” or is it more like, “what the hell am I doing sharing a stage with Neil Sedaka?”
He’s cool, man! He’s really sweet! I mean, that’s part of the job. I don’t see that as a bad thing at all. We try to do exactly what we want to do—I think you can be on Jools Holland and then still conduct the development of the band the way you want to: playing club shows, and always making the right decision depending on what the music wants and what you want as a person. The rest, I don’t really give a shit [laughs]. I just want it to be in good condition for the music and for the people to be able to hear it.
Was it at least fun playing with all the big TV strobe lights?
Yeah. Well, everybody understands it's part of the TV show.
I was just reading your Tumblr post about having to deal with network censors in America. And you said you were grateful for that experience. Could you elaborate on that?
It was something I had never experienced before. So anything that is new is always interesting to experience. What makes America so interesting is the contrast and the confrontation of different extremes in such a big country. It’s quite fascinating. There was clearly a misunderstanding with the producer [of the TV show]. Apparently, she had never come down [to the control room] in 10 years, so it was kind of funny. It was hard to believe it was actually happening. It took me a while to understand what was going on. It was so surreal.
It’s rare to see a band as abrasive as Savages on network TV in North America. Are you surprised by how well things have gone?
I didn’t really know what to expect, because I had never been to America with a band. I had been to America before, I have family there, but I had never worked there. And people seem to really like us. It’s great.
In your former group, John & Jehn, you played with big bands like Franz Ferdinand and you toured and got a decent amount of media attention. Did having that experience better prepare for what Savages are going through now?
Definitely, every experience I’ve had with John & Jehn, I’ve learned so much with John[ny Hostile]. I’ve learned everything I know now with music and the music business, because we really started from scratch. We started from carrying all our own gear and meeting people… people I’ve met with John & Jehn are people who are still working with me now: our engineer, our tour manager, these are all people I’ve met through John & Jehn and who always loved what we were doing. We were so determined to do things, like carrying a massive 50-kilo organ everywhere with us, which kind of fucked with my back and now I can’t carry anything anymore… but it was a real learning experience. We released two records, and we have a third record that is waiting to be released… John & Jehn was a lifestyle, really, it was my life. We moved to London, and we’ve been working together for years now, and obviously John produced the Savages record, and we have a label now together. It’s just part of everything I am.
Was there something in particular that triggered a shift toward darker, noisier music for you?
I’ve always been into that. It came from a time when, for the third John & Jehn record, I was researching a lot of erotic poetry, and because [the album is] very much about eroticism, and I did a lot of research. But I couldn’t find something that was direct enough, especially in female erotic poetry. And then doing some research, I found that gay poetry was really interesting for that, because there was this simplicity and directness I was looking for, and which satisfied and influenced me. And from that, I went to war poetry, which had the same kind of directness and extremeness as well, and I really found that interesting. And then Gemma [Thompson], the guitarist of Savages, she was the guitarist for John & Jehn on the last tour, and she wanted to start a project, and she said she wanted it to be called Savages, and she had all these ideas about how it sound—the sonic presentation of a chaotic, apocalyptic generation and a dark future, and she was reading some H.G. Ballard, and she wanted something very extreme with contrasts. And I thought, “well, that’s really great—it’s exactly what I’m after at the moment lyrically.” So we connected that way. Although these things seem to sound differently, they all come from the same source, and the same love of music.
Certain reference points come up in a lot of discussions of Savages—mainly from the late ’70s and early ‘80s—and I'm wondering if that era actually does hold any romance for you, in the sense that even the biggest pop bands of that time seemed to come to the table with new ideas and a strong message, and were pulling from different sources beyond music, like film and politics. Even bands like Human League or Dexys Midnight Runners, who were number one groups at the time, came from very punk rock/anarchist roots, and I'm wondering if you’re reacting to a lack of purpose in a lot of bands today.
We definitely come from a punk point of view on things. Me, John, Gemma and the people at Pop Noire, we all come from the same no-bullshit, no-compromise kind of thing, and that bound us together. There’s definitely a love for that era, but there’s also a love for any kind of music that holds the same radicality… I would say you could find that in jazz music as well— anything has the connection between life and art. It’s not necessarily music. It could be films—we used an excerpt from Cassavettes to open the album, and that was an idea from Johnny Hostile, and that totally made sense for us, because he had this no-compromise attitude. And it’s really hard to do that. You have to be a real fighter, because it’s definitely the hardest way to go. He represents for me this attitude of life and art being extremely connected. You are what you write and you write what you are. And you try to give some truth to people, and not give them some fantasy—give them some reality. That’s very inspiring. So you see, it could be from different kinds of angles—obviously from that [late 70s] period of time, but you can find that attitude in a lot of different eras.
Absolutely, punk is an attitude that predates 1977—you could even trace back to dada.
Definitely. We wrote a piece that was very much influenced by dada with Bo Ningen, this Japanese band who lives in London. We wrote a piece together called “Words for the Blind,” which was very much influenced by the dadaists, and Cabaret Voltaire, where they were doing simultaneous poetry—poems in different languages recited at the same time. And we started from that idea and did this sonic poem, with two bands playing a piece together simultaneously and then there’s a battle between the two bands. It’s very extreme! We played it in London, we filmed it and we recorded it, we’re going to do a release, and we’re going to perform it again in Japan at the end of July and then try to tour it a bit in different kinds of places.
Do those sorts of side outlets become more important as the touring demands for Savages increases?
I think there’s different kinds of sounds in Savages. You can go to different extremes with it. There’s the extreme of that hardcore/grindcore side of the music; you have the more abstract/washy sound; and then you have something very direct with almost reciting poems. You have different kinds of angles you can explore, and side projects... like, we have HTB, the project I have with Hostile and Gemma, we have this “Words for the Blind” thing—this is all very important to us, that’s what enables us to explore the different sides of the band, and different influences we have.
The first singles we heard from Savages don’t really prepare you for what’s on the record, where songs like “Strife” and “Waiting for a Sign” have this doomy metal heaviness to them…
Yeah, it’s very Black Sabbathy, and almost Motörhead kind of style, for me personally, I don’t know if people can hear that, but it’s definitely an influence. When producing the record, Johnny Hostile was playing us some Converge, because he comes from that background, he’s very much influenced by that kind of music. He grew up as a skater listening to hardcore/grindcore music and death metal and things like that, and I didn’t, I came from a different side of things. We’ve been working together for years, but he was the one who introduced me to these things. The first time I saw a grindcore gig, I was completely shocked—it was 30-second songs, and that was contemporary art for me. It was amazing. I was really impressed by it. I love this kind of thing. So I love to integrate these ideas into Savages as well, and Gemma and Johnny were really into finding these extreme guitar sounds for the record. There’s a real pummel there, and she’s still looking for new sounds, endlessly!
On the end of the spectrum you end the album with “Marshall Dear,” which showcases your piano playing. Did you intend for that side of you to come into the band? After 10 tracks of doom and gloom, it’s quite striking to hear this gentle piano-playing…
I hope you can sense there’s still a punk side and a radicality to that song. The clarinet player, Duke Garwood, is an amazing avant-garde blues musician, who just released a record with Mark Lanegan called Black Pudding and it’s a really amazing record, and he’s an incredible guitar-player and singer. He’s a really great guy, and very unknown, and he did a punk-clarinet solo for us!
There’s an old rule that says the last song on the record points the way to the next album—is “Marshall Dear” a preview of what’s to come?
I don’t think so—that wasn’t the idea. It’s definitely one side of us. But the second record is not going to be all mellow with piano, don’t worry! Or maybe the third one, we can go like Talk Talk. Spirit of Eden is one of my favourite records of all time. “Marshall Dear” was directly influenced by Spirit of Eden, really. I wanted to have that vibe. Mark Hollis is one of my favourite singers. Very inspiring. But it’s also very tragic when you read interviews with Mark Hollis—the industry has been very brutal for him, and that’s definitely something I’m interested in.
I guess the benefit of being in a band in 2013 is you can look back at history and see where your favourite bands from the ‘80s ran into trouble and try to avoid it…
I know what you mean, but I’m always amazed at how much of the information doesn’t get through. I’m always trying to document myself within the band to pass along information about other artists trying to explain their situation and trying to voice something. We’ve worked a bit with Geoff Barrow from Portishead, and he’s very interesting for that, because he’s willing to pass on his knowledge and his understanding of the business, and the mistakes he’s done, and I find that very inspiring, and I thank him all the time for giving a voice. Because, artist-to-artist, it’s hard to pass this information. I find it really amazing that artists are still repeating the same mistakes nowadays, even if we can look back at a history of it. It seems the same errors are constantly being made.
So, like Portishead, we can expect the next Savages album in 11 years?
Yeah, maybe! No, don’t worry. We’re much more productive than that.
ENCORES
I got to interview Jehnny again in 2020, in the thick of the first pandemic-lockdown wave shortly after the release of her solo album To Love Is to Live, though the focus of the conversation wasn’t so much about making music as interviewing musicians on her talk show, Echoes.
Kinda wild to think that there’s a lot of people out there who know of Jehnny Beth not as a singer, but as the nanny in Anatomy of a Fall.
In case you missed it in last week’s stübermania playlist update: Savages drummer Faye Milton has reemerged with a new project, Goddess, whose self-titled debut comes out May 30 on Bella Union.
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