Pitchfork

His current full-time gig is as the drummer for the Decemberists, but that's just one item on John Moen's impressive resume. In addition to playing in long gone local favorites like the Dharma Bums and the Maroons, the Portland resident has drummed for Elliott Smith and Stephen Malkmus. He will soon join Robert Pollard for the inaugural tour of his new band, Boston Spaceships.

Making his self-proclaimed Dave Grohl move, Moen recently stepped out from behind the kit and into the role of solo artist as the songwriter, primary studio musician, and leader of Perhapst.

We spoke to Moen about Perhapst's long-in-the-works self-titled debut, his time spent as a sideman, playing darts with Stephen Malkmus, and shaking hands with the potential next leader of the free world.

Pitchfork: This Perhapst record has been in the making for a while, right?

John Moen: Right. I was finishing up the recording right after I joined the Decemberists, but we hadn't even really played together yet. I signed on as the drummer, and we were going to give it a year and see if we were all copacetic. This was just before the Picaresque tour. They had lost [previous drummer] Rachel Blumberg right after the recording of the record, so they had a tour to do.

In all that interim time between when a record gets done and when the tour actually happens, I got signed on and was just learning songs by myself. So I finished my record quickly in that period. I was still technically a Jick then, too, [part of] Stephen Malkmus' band. And I finished the record and kind of shelved it. I didn't really have time to do anything about it. Or the confidence, either!

Pitchfork: You were the frontman for the Maroons, but is this your first solo project?

JM: Yeah, that was similar, but the recordings were always done with a band. This one was even more of a lone wolf project, because I had no band. Eric [Lovre]-- the guitar player in the Dharma Bums, one of my first bands-- ended up doing most of the engineering for it and helped me produce it, played some bass and stuff, kind of basement analog action. It was fun. So that was how it got going, and then I didn't make a cover for it for another year, and it got mastered later... I can't even remember now. [laughs] It's pretty old!

Pitchfork: Does it feel old? Do you feel "over" these songs in any way?

JM: No, I'm actually kind of surprised I still like it. I think it was a pretty personal thing; it wasn't just a jokey, "Hey, I'll make a record" kind of thing. I was excited about acting and feeling like an artist. I don't know how to describe it any other way, but it was really fun, and I was enjoying not having to bounce all the ideas about it off anybody. Not having a band was kind of liberating.

Pitchfork: What made you finally say, "You know, I want to put this out"?

JM: Well, timing was a big part of it. I always intended to put it out, but time kept going by and there was no window of opportunity. Then after a while, it seemed like it had not been out for so long that it didn't really seem to matter! [laughs] Like, there was no public outcry that I hadn't released my record. So I just kind of lost whatever it was.

And then I talked to Scott McCaughey, who's in Minus 5 and plays in R.E.M. now. He's a good friend of mine, and he was telling me that I should put it out. I was kind of scared; I didn't want to play live, because I'm just kind of chickenshit. He's like, "You don't have to play live, but you should put it out." So I followed his advice, and then decided to get over my chickenshit-ness and put a band together. And that's super fun, too, to hear how everything translates to a batch of dudes and their instruments.

Pitchfork: How many shows have you played so far?

JM: We've played three times, and we get a little better each time. The first one was in Seattle with Herman Jolly's new band Little Pieces for their record release party. Then we did the Holocene show up here in Portland, which was our record release party. And we played a house party this past weekend. That was fun, too. That's about all we have going. I didn't want to assume that the band I had collected for this particular romp would want to stick with it or anything, so I didn't go crazy booking shows.

Pitchfork: Last summer you did the big orchestral tour with the Decemberists, playing these huge parks. Is it a different headspace when you play a show like that versus a house party?

JM: Yeah, it really is. I feel a little bit like a dual personality, because playing drums in a band where I didn't write the songs, it's just sort of a different vibe, and I think I project my persona. I've started seeing personas in myself when I play with people. Different characters come out. Nothing drastic. But when I'm leading my own band, I'm shy and befuddled. I don't feel like it's a put-on; I'm just kind of watching myself from a distance. With a lot of the Decemberists stuff, we jump around, and I tend to ham it up quite a bit. The same guy doesn't come to the Perhapst shows, for some reason.

But that's only part of what you were asking me. Yeah, playing in front of different-sized crowds is different feeling. I almost feel like a different person sometimes. But it's not that awkward or odd.

Pitchfork: Is it scarier for you to lead a band than to be a supporting player in a band like the Decemberists or the Jicks?

JM: Oh it's way scarier to be the boss of your own band. I think that the-- for lack of a better word-- poetry part, the lyrics and all that...you just don't know if it's any good. Or I don't. I think some performers just know that they're a contender, or it's valid for them to do their thing. I haven't always felt that way about my own music. Obviously, I do it, and I throw it out there. It's not like I'm living in a cave and petrified, but I just don't expect it to be embraced or anything like that. But I take it seriously enough that I hope it will be [laughs].

Pitchfork: What brought you to the name "Perhapst"?

JM: I was drunk in a bar in NYC, playing darts with Stephen Malkmus. I think it's turned into a funny thing, because all the shows around here are advertised as "Perhabst," with a "b," because there's that Pabst beer that's so popular. It's Portland's lowbrow beer of choice.

Pitchfork: I think it's everywhere's lowbrow beer of choice.

JM: Yeah, it's an epidemic here. Terrible. It's fine; it tastes like any other lowbrow beer, but it's got a cache. I don't know what it is. It's been assumed that I was playing with that, which is unfortunate. I was just thinking kind of medieval, like [affects accent] "Perhapst thou whilst..." or whatever. I'm not sure if it's real, or if I've seen it somewhere, but I was just playing darts and thought it sounded great, so I wrote it down. You know how you have a couple [drinks], and you're like, "That was genius!"

Pitchfork: Yeah, and of course everyone has a playing-darts-with-Stephen-Malkmus story.

JM: Yeah, exactly! Drunk with the Malk. What are you gonna do? Make up a new language!

Pitchfork: Now that you explain it, the name definitely conveys that scariness of being on your own. Like, "Perhapst you'll like this."

JM: It's shockingly appropriate, and that's probably why it stuck. Every time I think about it, it's like, "Yeah, that's kind of how I am." Or how the record came about. Seems to kind of fit.

Pitchfork: You recently played on the Boston Spaceships debut album. Was it fun working with Bob Pollard?

JM: I have no idea! I've never met him!

Pitchfork: Wait, really?

JM: I've never met Bob Pollard. I'm really good friends with Chris Slusarenko, who was in the last vestiges of Guided by Voices, and he just kind of hooked me in [with] light recording duties a couple of Takeovers records ago. As we know, Bob has a high output, but one of these many forms of output was this band called the Takeovers, where Chris would write songs and leave out the lyrics and then send all of the files over to Bob, who'd throw words at it and make a cover for it. That was one of their "fun with music" things they were doing. So I got involved being the recording studio drummer guy for that. I got wrapped up in it, and we started making Bob records, where he writes the songs and sends the demos to Chris, who interprets them. And then I play the drums. It's been totally great and really fun. Awesome music, but I have yet to meet Bob.

Pitchfork: Have you heard through the grapevine if he approves of your contributions?

JM: Well, yeah, so far so good. He decided we needed to be a band. It was so exciting. We couldn't just call it something else, we had to be the Boston Spaceships, so I think he got really excited about whatever Chris and I were doing. And I have to say, my contributions were pretty minimal as far as the thinking part of it. I just play drums until Chris says, "That's pretty good." We didn't labor over anything too much; it's pretty raw, pretty fun moments.

Pitchfork: And you're going on tour this summer?

JM: Yeah, we're going on tour. That was the real sign that Bob was [into it]. He hadn't been so stoked on touring the last little while, so we're all excited. So I'm going to meet him--

Pitchfork: Hopefully, yeah, before the tour!

JM: Yeah, I hope we get along! Seems like he's pretty funny and we'll have a good time.

Pitchfork: With the release of the Perhapst record, you've made the drummer-fronts-band connection to Dave Grohl, but in my estimation, you're maybe in a better place than he is. Dave Grohl always wants to be playing with his heroes, like Metallica, but I don't think he ever has. But you've played with Malkmus, Elliott Smith, Colin Meloy, and, soon apparently, Bob Pollard. I'm wondering who is the best boss. Not the best musician, not the most talented guy, but who could you see leading a Fortune 500 company?

JM: That's a tough question. I could get in so much trouble with this question. I don't know! I don't know if I love any of them as bosses, so far. They're all great people and have various things to offer, all different from each other, but as far as having a boss goes, I can't recommend any of them as bosses.

Pitchfork: Do you have any funny stories from interacting with any of them on that level?

JM: Well, I can tell you that I spent a lot of time running a skit with Elliott Smith, wherein I'm teaching him how to scat. That's probably my favorite memory of him. I'm just breaking it down syllable by syllable, and he's pretending that he's dumb and doesn't understand.

Pitchfork: Is this recorded anywhere?

JM: No, we did it on a Heatmiser tour. We thought it was really funny. He was pretty big on running gags, like a joke that would come back and come back and come back. So that was fun. And really, my perspective [on him] is kind of skewed. I just played "Saturday Night Live" with him when he was a solo guy and went on tour with Heatmiser in their last vestiges. But yeah, he was super funny.

Pitchfork: It seems like things with the Decemberists have come to a lull. Is this the calm before another storm of activity?

JM: Yes, we've got a bunch going on, actually. There are things we spent some time recording earlier this spring. I don't know how the release will go with that; it was more fun for us, maybe songs that wouldn't fit into the next record so much, things that have been lying around. I can't actually speak to how that will format itself. But at the end of July, we start working on a full record, and that'll be a lot of fun.

Pitchfork: Are those songs written already?

JM: As far as I know. Colin's kind of holed-up working, as far as I can tell.

Pitchfork: Is there another big concept to this album?

JM: Maybe!

Pitchfork: Were there any tossed around?

JM: Nothing that I can tell you about. It's a big secret! Actually, I don't know if it's a big secret, but I'm going to claim it's a big secret. We're trying to build some magic here, so: big secret.

Pitchfork: Returning to the subject of playing big concerts, you guys played that Barack Obama rally in Portland recently.

JM: That was great, yeah. Once we were all mid-song in the first tune, we realized we were pretty much an aside. It was basically a fun thing for us to do, because we're all pretty psyched about Obama. It was fun to be in front of that many people and also have it so we were not the center [of attention].

Pitchfork: Did you pay any attention to the internet drama that followed? Some folks made it seem like, "The Decemberists are responsible for bringing all these people."

JM: Right. I can attest actually: There was a VIP area in front of our stage. There were people standing in front of our stage, but Obama was on a podium a little further over, and basically the people filed into the VIP area and turned towards his podium long before we started playing. A few of them kind of looked at us while we were playing. You know, we were loud enough to command attention, but it was kind of fun that it wasn't about us, really. That was a lot of people to get into the park through security. I think it was good to have some entertainment there.

Pitchfork: Was it cool to meet Obama?

JM: It was really cool to meet him. He's a super composed guy. He basically got done talking to 70,000 people, delivering a great speech, and walked off the platform and into a tent to the side of the stage. Our handler told me he was addressing 15,000 teamsters by satellite or something. We could hear him talking outside the tent, and he was just kind of going for it. It was amazing. Then he came out totally not sweaty or tired-looking at all and shook all our hands, and it was really great. He's the real deal.

Pitchfork: So his persona is as genuine in person as it seems to be in speeches and on TV?

JM: Absolutely. I mean, I only said, like, a sentence to him, thanked him for his work or whatever. I was probably a little starstruck. The guy who was helping us out at that event said that he's as great all the time as you would hope. That guy had worked for Clinton and Kerry, set up those types of events in a lot of different places. He was really impressed with [Obama's] realness.

Pitchfork: With all this stuff you have going on, what are you doing to relax?

JM: I'm going to try and go fishing tomorrow. I'm not a fisherman, really. My friend's going to take me fishing. I'm not going to over-fish, though; tell the people. I'm raising a daughter with my wife, and that's a lot of fun. We're going to hit the Eugene, Oregon Country Fair a little bit. Look for photos of me, nude but painted, craftily painted, on the internet. That would be frightening. Sorry, everybody. That's it!