Interview Life intervenes with The German Art Students (or vice versa)

People who use the term "dad rock" pejoratively would meet their semantic match in quite a few Madison bands. This holds true across genres, too: Anyone who enjoys The Arge, Natty Nation, or The Antiprism, for example, has been rocked at the hands of at least one breeder. In this sense, The German Art Students are a prime example of Madison band-hood. The local four-piece has been writing and playing defiantly fanciful power-pop about getting "Shitty Directions" and tennis star "Bjorn Borg" for 12 years, during which all four members have had kids and led increasingly adult-type lives. Guitarist Annelies Howell and bass player Andy Larson teach at Verona Area High School; guitarist Kirk Wall makes his living as a graphic designer; and drummer Randy Ballwahn works for UW-Madison's Department of Family Medicine. (Full disclosure: Ballwahn is a former A.V. Club contributor.) Perhaps because they generally treat the band as a creative escape, life hasn't worn down their distinctly smart-assed approach to songwriting or sent them off the trail of bright, new-wave guitars and perky rhythms. In fact, The German Art Students have at least one thing in common with younger bands: They've re-discovered the joys of vinyl, releasing two solid songs ("Pompeii" and "Reginald On The High Bike") on a 7-inch entitled 79 AD in 2008. Before the band's Friday show at the High Noon Saloon—Larson's last with the band, after which they'll go on as a three-piece—The A.V. Club asked Wall, Howell, and Ballwahn about balancing rock and adulthood.

The A.V. Club: In the song "Dick Clark," you made up an absurd story about sending a demo to Clark. Does having real-life pressures make it easier to make fun of music careers?

Randy Ballwahn: That came out of the fact that we actually were sort of a semi-finalist for the American Music Awards at one point.

Kirk Wall: It's this unholy alliance between CMJ and Dick Clark Productions. It was the beginning of these "get your friends to vote for you" contest dealies, and I don't know how or why we got into it. Then I got this thing in the mail: "You're an alternate finalist," and stuff. Then when I found out that Dick Clark Productions are involved, I'm laughing my ass off, because I'm thinking, oh, Dick Clark has weaved through all these bands and stuff. I just imagined him saying, "I can't sell this stuff on ABC!"

RB: The band that actually won it was totally lame.

Annelies Howell: They're still around!

AVC: Who was it?

AH: Carbon Leaf! I'm sorry. [All laugh.]

KW: Great! Their brand of Celtic rock is majestic and beautiful!

AVC: Do you ever come to practice all stressed out and try to write an angry serious song?

KW: No. It's weird. It's like, "Oh, good. I'm at band practice now. Everything sucked, now it's okay." I have no angst to bring to the table.

AH: One of the songs that does come from stress at work is "No Peekee." Andy and I were high-school teachers, and there was a phase in the early 2000s when girls were wearing the low-cut jeans and the high-cut tops. Not that there's anything wrong with "No Peekee," but it's definitely not my favorite song, and I wonder if that's because it was born out of anger.

KW: Daddy's girl is sporting a whale-tail! I don't approve.

AVC: It seems like there's a lot more emphasis on stories in most of your songs.

KW: I love stories. That's one of the things I love about Ray Davies. Old Kinks stuff is great. We like doing character profiles and character sketches. You don't have to solve the world's problems with this one little person's story.

RB: But we do use it to comment on things.

KW: Exactly. "Civil War Reenactor," I think that song's great, because I think of how fucked-up Civil War re-enacting is. I think if ghosts from the South could rise up, they'd say, "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you high?" I guess it came out of that. People can romanticize about anything. It's just such a grim, fucked-up time.

AVC: You were mentioned in a Rolling Stone article about college-town music a few years ago. Was it strange to be lumped in with college stuff?

KW: All they did was write a little catchy sentence about each act. On one hand, I think we were able to take it with a pretty good grain of salt, because I know how our name got in there. On the second hand, people often ask, "What kind of music do you play?" and I kind of found it fun for a while to go, "Well, Rolling Stone said that we're 'nimble-witted new-wave pop'!" It was kind of fun playing that up for relatives. But I don't think we ever thought, "Oh, we're in Rolling Stone. We're gonna make it big."

RB: The way we got in there—you know Rokker from Maximum Ink? I wrote for Maximum Ink for a while. They called him and asked his opinion. Basically, that article came from him.

AVC: In 2008 you put out that 7-inch, 79 AD, and it was just two songs instead of an album. Was it kind of a relief to get something out?

KW: I'd be happy just doing 7-inches. To just focus on two songs at a time, I think it's great. It's like the old model, almost.

AH: It goes along with everything you're asking about—trying to fit the band into middle age, or whatever—that if you only need to do two songs at a time, you can spend a weekend on it and have fun and have a good product and have it be affordable. When you're trying to do an album on a budget with limited time, it loses a little bit of the fun. As much as we're all sort of old-school, iTunes and that model is really exciting.

AVC: Annelies, what are the logistics of playing guitar and singing when you're pregnant?

AH: Well, I'm sure fat guys have the same problem.

RB: Ask Frank Black.

AH: The guitar goes to the side. For me when I'm pregnant, there's a host of physical ailments. I get out of breath, and you can't have a drink to take the edge off. Even bending over. I couldn't see my tuner. It's fairly uncomfortable. The baby kicked a lot while I was playing, which is fun. Suck it up, buttercup—that's my motto.

AVC: When you're playing in front of people and you're pregnant, does it become this elephant in the room that you have to address with the crowd?

AH: I don't really think it was—the only elephant was me.