Rick Froberg
Obits.
The ratio of Hot Snakes fans to Hot Snakes T-shirts probably hovers pretty close to 1-to-1. (If not closer to 1-to-3.) John Reis and Rick Froberg’s seminal post-hardcore band, which disbanded in 2005, has enjoyed a cult status among fans of punk, hardcore, and garage rock. And a lot of this has to do with the album art and band merch, designed by Froberg himself, which helped give the band (and its fans) a uniform identity. Now the bi-coastal members of Hot Snakes are doing their own thing. Reis started the San Diego-based Night Marchers, and Froberg is settling into his new band, Brooklyn’s Obits, which released its second LP earlier this year.
Where Hot Snakes seemed like a stripped-raw version of Reis and Froberg’s previous bands (the noisy hardcore outfit Pitchfork an the ferocious, prog-influenced Drive Like Jehu, respectively), Obits pares things down even further. Like Obits’ first record, 2009’s I Blame You, this year’s Moody, Standard And Poor weaves together Froberg and guitarist-vocalist Sohrab Habibion’s guitar lines while maintaining a straight-ahead, straight-up sound that smacks more of good ol’ rock ’n’ roll than anything else in Froberg’s catalogue.
Obits are currently on tour (they’ll be stopping at the Rivoli tonight), but Froberg is also reuniting with Hot Snakes for a handful of dates (including this December’s All Tomorrow’s Parties fest in the U.K.), while maintaining a successful side-career as an illustrator. We talked with him about his newest band, the Hot Snakes reunion, and how much people will pay for a Pitchfork record.
The A.V. Club: It says on the Internet that you had some throat problems during the recording of the new album, and you couldn’t quite yell as much. What happened?
Rick Froberg: No, no. That’s something that Sam [McPheeters, Village Voice music writer] wrote into a bio of us. I don’t remember exactly what the wording is, but I don’t have any throat problems. Sam was in this band, Born Against, and he was a fan of Drive Like Jehu and all that. I think he asked if our new album would have, like, lots of screaming and stuff, and I kind of said, “No, I don’t really feel like doing that anymore.” Somehow it got turned into my voice not working or something. I’m not sure.
AVC: So your voice is fine. It was a creative decision.
RF: Yeah, yeah. A creative decision, and a taste decision.
AVC: There’s some overlap in how this new Obits album sounds compared to I Blame You. But Moody, Standard And Poor is also a bit more mellow, and the songs are shorter. Are you guys just trying to pare down the sound?
RF: Well, we certainly aimed to make the songs shorter. We wanted something more concise: Just give it a vibe, isolate it, and move on.
AVC: When you first started touring with Obits, you talked in interviews about how the band would be more of a home, where you guys would try to keep it going for a while. Now you’ve released two full-lengths in two years. Is there any worry that it’s going to exhaust itself at this pace?
RF: I don’t know. I just try to avoid worrying about things, in general. I think that, in my experience, the less I worry about anything like this, the more fun I have, and the more the ideas keep coming. I don’t really think about it. It’s going fine. We’re still doing it, so.
AVC: With the Hot Snakes tour coming up, how do you find moving between Obits and one of your older—well, not even that old—projects?
RF: Yeah, I think it’s cool. We actually haven’t done anything for the Hot Snakes reunion. We haven’t actually played any shows. But I think that—I can’t think of anything more fun. It’s going to be a good time.
AVC: Does it get boring, or annoying, when you’re touring with Obits and people keep asking about Hot Snakes?
RF: I’m glad people are interested. It’s nice. I like it when people ask about anything, at this point in my life.
AVC: The Obits records certainly recall some of your other bands, but you’ve established a pretty consistent sound, where it’s immediately recognizable as Obits. Is it tricky to do that when so many bands these days seem concerned with trying to do some new or different thing to distinguish themselves?
RF: I think if you think about self-expression, your aesthetic sort of shapes itself. If you follow your own weird impulses, you may not necessarily always get something you’re happy with. But you’ll get something idiosyncratic that’s you, yourself, and nothing else. Yeah, you just have to sort of do your thing. If it’s new or not doesn’t really matter. That kind of takes care of itself. It will be new, because it’ll be you.
Obits - No Fly List from Nick Sewell on Vimeo.
AVC: The album title, Moody, Standard And Poor, seems kind of bleak. And the album art, too, which you did. Where did that come from?
RF: Well, Moody’s and Standard & Poor’s are credit rating agencies in New York. And we’re a New York band. The artwork just kind of comes to me as I’m drawing. I just kind of start drawing, and that’s what I got that day. I thought it suited the record; it went with the vibe of the music.
AVC: One thing about your artwork is that helps make the records seem more collectable; a lot of the bands you’ve been in have recordings that are highly valued among collectors. A Pitchfork 7-inch was selling for like $200 on eBay. Is this whole culture of records and record collecting something you think about, as both a musician and illustrator?
RF: I like music a lot. But I’m more into the culture of getting rid of things. I bought a lot of records as a kid. But I tend to get rid of a lot of them, either because I need the money or for whatever. I don’t understand why anybody would pay $200 for a 7-inch. That’s insane to me. You must just be shitting cash. I don’t see why else anybody would ever be buying a 7-inch from some ’80s hardcore band, or whatever the fuck it is, for that much. It’s crazy.
AVC: Especially because, by the time you listen to it, it’ll probably end up scratched and totally worthless.
RF: Yeah. I don’t really get it. I think, if the music is good, it doesn’t matter if it’s coming over an AM radio or an MP3, if it’s a good song. ... Well I think there’s something to be said for music that’s not compressed like these modern digital formats. But yeah. I don’t really collect records. It’s cool that people do. The music’s good, and they have cool covers and are beautiful objects and whatever, but yeah, I just don’t collect music.
AVC: They’re a huge pain if you ever have to move, too.
RF: I mean, I still have some records. And I had to move recently. It sucked. I have a lot of books. I’m probably worse with books; I collect a lot of books.
AVC: Well, books are sometimes harder to get rid of. After you’ve read them and bent the spine and leafed through the pages, they start to feel like yours.
RF: Most of my books are illustrations, and children’s books, and arts books. I keep them for the images and refer to them.
AVC: You seem to be doing a lot of illustration work for other bands, and commercial illustration work, as well.
RF: Oh, you know. Once in a while they’ll throw me something. Like, “Do a T-shirt for this band.”
AVC: Illustration seems like something you’ve always been equally into, along with music. Is it ever tricky, managing your time? Or is part of the same artistic process?
RF: I like both things, so I find the time. It’s not so much the time. I mean, I need money. That’s kind of the problem. But our band manages, and I manage, to get by. So it all works out. I get to do both these things. I’m really lucky.
AVC: Do you get a lot of drawing done on tour, passing the time when you’re on the road?
RF: You know, I never really do that much of that. I started doing a bit of it last trip. And I’ve done it with some other bands in the past. But honestly, like today, I’m just looking out the window, taking in the beautiful trees and the grey skies. I really like to just drive and look out the window at the countryside.
