Interview Colin Johnson of Vampire Hands

Over the course of three full-length albums and a smattering of EPs since 2006, Twin Cities quartet Vampire Hands has perfected a take on psychedelic rock that's dark and even a little gloomy, borrowing elements from predecessors like Syd Barrett, Can, and The Doors. Though they draw energy from the clashing-but-complementary vocal styles of falsetto Chris Bierden and the deeper-toned Colin Johnson—and even more from the shifting rhythms of their dual-drummer approach—Vampire Hands' sound has become progressively more ethereal over time: The new Hannah In The Mansion brings in a spookiness reminiscent of Faith-era Cure. The band is skipping the CD format for Hannah, releasing it instead only as a digital download and as a limited-edition vinyl disc with handmade collage covers. The band plays a release show for Hannah at Turf Club Aug. 14, after which big changes are in store: Johnson will be moving to Montana to concentrate on writing, leaving the rest of the band to continue as a trio, although he'll continue to record with them. Johnson talked to The A.V. Club about the band's future, the dark side of psychedelia, and the eternal mystery of the ocean.

The A.V. Club: There's kind of a loose storyline connecting the songs in Hannah In The Mansion. How did that emerge?

Colin Johnson: It's self-referential. One of the first nights of our tour last fall, we ended up staying in this old, dilapidated mansion built in the mid- to late 1800s, a post-Civil War, Southern-style mansion in Kansas City, and the whole thing is just kind of bombed-out, trashed. Punk kids living in there—legitimately, they weren't squatting, but the whole thing was kind of fucked up. No electricity, there was one outlet that worked,  and the only light that they had was this giant red bulb. One room had this red light on it, nothing else in the house has electricity, it's just totally surreal. Everyone was drinking and we were playing hide-and-go-seek and running around. It started forming as this centerpiece for an idea. Someone had found a box of old photographs of people who had lived in [the mansion when it had been an] old folks' home, so then there are all these old photographs scattered over the kitchen table in this gigantic, beautiful, completely trashed house. This got convoluted, but that initial experience was so strange, we used it as a model to address some broader ideas.

AVC: In recent years, there's been a resurgence of psychedelic music, locally with bands like Vampire Hands and Daughters Of The Sun, and elsewhere with groups like Brightback Morning Light. What do you think psychedelia has to say to people today?

CJ: I honestly can't say. I wish I could say there's a cultural comparison, like mounting tension due to war and the fact that people want maybe something to escape from. I mean if you look at a huge band like Animal Collective, they address things emotionally in a very childlike and innocent way, a self-consciously naive way. I've never really felt like we were as much a part of that. I think the things we like to address and the way we like to address them is kind of a negative and destructive way—not necessarily aggressive or violent. Music is kind of like dual rituals: There's celebration, and there's hexing or cursing or spell-casting. I always loved the idea that music is something to cast a curse with. So it's weird that a lot of these psychedelic bands now seem to be more into the beauty of life and getting back to nature and things like that. That very well could be because of how crazy everything is. I mean, you look out in the world [now], and back in the '60s when [psychedelic music] was emerging too, the state of politics, of ideas of civil rights and everything, there was this palpable tension. I would like to say the reason why it's becoming more popular is because there's that similar tension—you can cut it with a knife—but really it could just as easily be cultural pillaging.

AVC: In the notes you wrote for your recent Daytrotter session, you talked about having an obsession with water and drowning.

CJ: Ever since I was a little kid, I was totally fascinated by water. I’m kind of freaked out by it, but at the same time it’s like I’m afraid of it until I’m in it. [Laughs.] Which is a weird thing. It’s definitely a common motif for me. I find a lot of comfort in massive bodies of water. Thinking about the ocean and Lake Superior and stuff like that, these inconceivably huge things. And water is such a weird physical entity also, Just the idea of liquid is really bizarre. It’s always been something that I’ve tried to make either physically manifest—that idea of making music that sounds like water, which is kind of abstract—or addressing it in metaphors regarding water. You know, drowning seems to be a very passive and weird way to die. And it’s always been a very powerful image to me, whether it’s someone jumping off a bridge or just walking out into the ocean, this giving your body to the elements that will kill you. I’m sure, very similarly, people thought that about space at one time, people who are very into “space rock.” I really like “water rock.” [Laughs.] The element of the unknown, the vast unknown ecosystems that happen within water. It’s too bizarre, too weird. [Laughs.] It’s always freaked me out. I love it.

AVC:  You're moving to Montana very soon, which could have huge repercussions for the band. Why move? What are your plans when you get there?

CJ:  I got to a point after our last tour where I had a lot of anxiety problems with performing, so it’s really hard for me to tour emotionally.  It had been a problem for over a year, so I focused more on writing, whether it be lyrics or stories. Writing, period, is the one thing that I feel like I can communicate any idea I want through; there’s no confusion.  The more I found a calming solace in that, the more I thought about going back to school for it.  So I decided that with the way things are going for the band—and things have been going really well—it would be harder, the more we do, for me to really handle doing it.  I decided to step back and focus on something else for a little while. We’re going to have to work on stuff long-distance. We have the majority of another album done, so we’ll take our time on that. The other three guys are really very capable people, very good musicians.  They’re going to play live as a three-piece. And I think a lot of the newer stuff we’ve written caters better live to a three-piece. Obviously, with the earlier stuff, where there’s a lot of double-drumming, that would be harder. But with them focusing on new stuff and looking ahead, and us working long-distance, I think a lot of people are going to be really surprised when they see the three of them play. It really is fortunate to play with such talented people. I’m very excited that they’re going to continue.

AVC:  So it’s definitely not a breakup.

CJ: No, definitely not. I need to kind of re-centralize. [Laughs.] I need to regain my bearings and focus on what I really love about the band, which is writing songs and recording, the things that I’m very comfortable with. I think everyone agrees that it’s the healthiest thing for everyone. It’s just like a new chapter.

AVC:  Will you still tour with the band?

CJ: Depending on the touring schedule. I don’t have the intention of never touring again. For the most part, I really enjoy touring. But what we had been doing, at the rate we had been doing it... The toll taken was kind of intense.

AVC:  You're handcrafting the covers for Hannah.

CJ: They’re all done already. We found a bunch of old house paint, and so we just took rollers and painted all of the covers with house paint, then we went through magazines and did collage work, so every single one is different. Every one has been assembled by hand. I kind of went off the deep end, because I have some mild OCD when it comes to stuff like that. [Laughs.] There were covers that I spent a half hour to 45 minutes on that are pretty elaborate, that I was actually bummed out to see go when it was time to get the records assembled. [Laughs.]

AVC: Were you trying to match a visual mood to the mood of the music?

CJ: Yeah. Going back to that idea of those old photographs that we saw in that house that night, it's like a way of reliving someone else’s life. Consciously re-appropriating an image. I like to take stuff out of fashion magazines, or advertisements. I took out faces, and anything with skin, and left these ghost hunks of clothes, consciously using famous people like Madonna, but obscuring her identity and displacing her iconic-ness. Elvis was used, we did a bunch of Jackie Onassis covers. Just kind of that idea of that uneasy sense of deja vu... It seems like in the modern world, [where] everything’s become so ubiquitous and everything has been so done, that the life that you have sometimes doesn’t really seem like you even really lived it. You vaguely remember these things, and then you realize they were on a television show. I hear people talk about that sometimes and I think that’s really interesting. The cultural identity has become so media-driven and so informed by television or magazines, so the records are like another veneer.