Pitchfork

Conrad Keely is frustrated and not a little defeated. When ...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead's third album, Source Tags and Codes, grabbed the ears and hearts of listeners and critics (including us) in 2002, he seized the opportunity to write and record a follow-up that would top it in every way. And it flopped. 2005's Worlds Apart took a beating by critics (including us), and it didn't help that it happened at a time when Trail of Dead were undergoing some difficult personnel changes.

Cut to the present. The band's fifth album, So Divided, is scheduled for a November 14 release on Interscope, and they are in the middle of a massive tour with the Blood Brothers. Recently, Keely spoke to Pitchfork about the album (and music in general), the tour (and touring in general), the powerlessness we all feel, and what-- if anything-- makes being in a band still worth it.

Pitchfork: The release of So Divided was pushed back six weeks, and then it leaked. There was a rumor that you leaked the album yourselves. Is that true?

Conrad: No.

Pitchfork: How did that rumor get started?

Conrad: I guess they thought it would be funny if we'd done it ourselves, but I don't know why we would leak the record when we worked so hard on it.

Pitchfork: I thought it was telling that the letter on your website kicking off the current tour was addressed to "fellow pirates."

Conrad: Well you know I'd be a hypocrite if I said I didn't do that type of thing, but I don't usually look for records that are unreleased.

Pitchfork: Is it just a source of frustration for you, or have you thought of a way to solve the problem?

Conrad: I really don't think it's something I can waste my time worrying about. I don't know how it affects record sales or if it does. To be honest, I don't really know that record sales affect-- in the long run-- the career of a band as more-or-less insignificant as we are. We've never recouped a record. Our record sales don't make us or lose us any money. We don't really make money off of it, so it's like, "What do I care?" If I wrote a platinum record, maybe that would be a different story, but these days, we're too insignificant for it to really matter.

There's a big gap between the people who are making money in the record industry and everybody else. It's like a curve [where] the top five percent are making 80 percent of the money. [For] everyone else, it's like, if you can make a living off of it and you don't have to work in an office, then you don't really have a right to complain or care.

Pitchfork: It still seems like you have some animosity. Is that just because of the principle?

Conrad: Well, I don't want to make [people] feel that I would encourage it. I wouldn't want to go out there and say, "By the way, those of you who haven't heard it, you should download it now."

Pitchfork: For people who haven't heard it yet and might still buy it, how do you explain the difference between this album and other Trail of Dead albums?

Conrad: There's more piano. I think lyrically this album definitely tends to be on the dark side, which is strange because I think there's a lot of lighter sounding moments musically. A lot of the lyrics paint a bleaker picture than [those on] the previous record. On the previous record, I was trying harder to be optimistic, but I also wasn't really writing about myself, for the most part. Whereas all the stuff I wrote on this record is definitely about how I've been feeling and what I've been going through, and I didn't mince words or try to paint a prettier picture than what I was going through.

Pitchfork: The "Gold Heart Mountain Top Queen Directory" cover sounds great. Why did you choose that Guided by Voices song specifically?

Conrad: I think that one in particular sounded extremely unfinished, and I just thought how nice it would be to hear it sound full. I like the song a lot, and I heard it in my head the way that we recorded it, the way it might [have been] like.

Pitchfork: How is the tour going?

Conrad: It's been really pleasant, and the other bands that are on the tour are really nice. Everyone's enjoying each other's company, despite [being] road-weary. [Touring] seems different to me than it was when I was five years younger. I think when we first started, I felt a lot more enthusiastic about the idea of touring and the whole idea of playing live for people. I used to think that it was an end in and of itself, that it had its own rewards. I don't feel that way these days about playing live.

Pitchfork: Why is that?

Conrad: I guess I'm a little disillusioned by the fact that you can play live for years and years, and it doesn't seem to make any difference in how well you do as a band. There were times I was convinced that we were one of the best live bands out there, but it didn't mean that we were being asked to play festivals or anything of that sort. There were a lot of other bands that were far more celebrated. Right now, I'd rather be working on a new record than playing live. You feel like it takes years off of your life, putting so much into something that you're not getting much out of, health-wise.

Pitchfork: Does that mean there are already plans for a new album?

Conrad: Only insomuch as I'm planning in my head. It's hard for me right now, because I used to feel like I had a really clear idea of where I wanted the music to go, where I wanted pop music to go, and I don't know that I really feel the direction that it's going right now. I don't know that I'm 100 percent enthused by it.

Pitchfork: What is that direction, as you see it?

Conrad: It seems extremely fragmented. It makes perfect sense because of the way the information age has gone and the way that the accessibility of so much music makes it hard for there to be a single focus. In the 60s, something like the Vietnam War brought a bunch of people together thinking about one issue. But these days we have something that's comparable, and people seem so-- I don't want to say apathetic, because they're not apathetic, but they have a sense of powerlessness about it.

It's the same way with music. It's not that people feel apathetic about music or the way it is, but there's a certain sense of resignation about what can and can't be done, with things like records leaking. It seems like the stuff that is really popular, the stuff that's top 10, top 40 music-- it seems like most people I know are in complete agreement that it's horrible, and yet they can't do anything about it. I've also been affected by this sense of powerlessness, that I don't feel like it's worth trying to change things right now. I wish I didn't feel that way.

Pitchfork: Before, did you feel like you knew a way that things could change?

Conrad: When we were working on Worlds Apart-- the record that Pitchfork gave two stars [laughs]-- I felt like we were working on something that I thought was a statement of how records could be, not [just] the songs, but to make a whole record say something, or be narrative, or make a statement about something. But I certainly didn't feel that way when I was writing this record. I didn't even want to try to feel that way. [It was] kind of a "once bitten, twice shy" thing.

Pitchfork: So this feeling of powerlessness is also based on critical response, not just the state-of-the-record-industry stuff?

Conrad: It's some of that, but I feel like it's all connected in some ways. Growing up, the inspirations I had, the people that inspired me to be a musician, they weren't your small, indie, underground bands at all. When I was growing up listening to music, the bands that I was into were big mega bands, 70s dinosaur rock: Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Genesis, Rush, these people that sold out stadiums. In my mind, that was the goal. And U2, they weren't just popular; they had a kind of devotion about them. People believed in what they were saying. So now I've gotten to this age where I feel like, if I'm still playing clubs and stuff, why bother?

Pitchfork: You want to share the music with more people.

Conrad: Of course I do. There are six billion people on this planet. These shows we're playing, we're playing for a capacity of 500, 600, maybe up to 1000 in a place like Milwaukee or Chicago, but a city like Chicago has 6 million people in it. I know that the other 5,999,950 people are going to see big hip hop acts and...who knows? I can't even name half of the bands that are on the top 40 right now, because I've made myself oblivious to it.

Pitchfork: I don't know, though. I'm not sure how many people are committed to seeing live music right now.

Conrad: Well maybe I should be asking the question, "How many people are committed to music at all?" Maybe most of them are sports fans. Then again, that is something that I have a hard time dealing with, because I can't see why watching a baseball game or a football game could be more engaging than music. But obviously, I'm a minority here, and obviously my opinion isn't going to change that.

Pitchfork: I can't help thinking the answer to the problem might lie in not comparing the two.

Conrad: I suppose you could think that way, but when it comes down to making a living or surviving off of what you do, then it becomes very easy to draw comparisons. Obviously, there are people in the music industry that are flaunting their wealth in ways that I find really ghastly. And yet, we are constantly struggling to just pay for equipment that breaks or has to be replaced. There's nothing glamorous anymore to what we do; there's barely any profit in it. I know there are tons of people out there who absolutely love what we're doing, and in some ways, I do this just because I know that those people exist. I could probably make a better living doing graphic art.

Pitchfork: So do you continue simply because the fans create a sense of duty for you?

Conrad: Well, it's not duty; it's more like they help me feel like this is worthwhile. Who am I reaching out to in the end? I'm reaching out to the people who enjoy the music that I write. It's a really small audience, but I'm not a kid anymore, and I want to be able to feel a sense of security that an adult would have: a house, maybe help my mother out with a house, to feel that I can look forward to financial security. But I don't know that that's something that's ever been afforded to us by what we do as a band. When it comes down to it, when you're thinking at the end of the day, "Why was this worth it in the end?" those are the things that you're going to end up thinking about. Your fans aren't going to pay your rent. They're not going to help you with a mortgage, are they?

Pitchfork: How have you been able to get an approximation of financial security so far?

Conrad: We've had a lot of help through licensing. But you see, to me, if the money's in licensing, then I don't want to be on the road; I'd rather be licensing my songs to movies, because we certainly don't make money from touring. I know that people think you're supposed to, but we've actually accrued a lot of debt from touring. The only thing that we've seen profit from is when a TV show will license a song, and I don't even have to do anything for them to do that. I can just sit in my living room, and that takes care of itself. So to me, what's the incentive for playing when licensing is the only thing that seems tangible?

Pitchfork: Since you're also a visual artist, how does that fit into the equation?

Conrad: Well right now, it's more of a serious hobby, because I don't have any client base. I'd like to get to the point where I'm well known enough that people actually want to buy my work. [But] giving up music is not as simple as it sounds. When you're a musician, it's something that you just do; it's part of your self-expression. So it's not like, "Oh I'll just give up music and be an artist." That's not how it works. It really isn't.

Pitchfork: Is there any redeeming element to it, despite the frustration?

Conrad: When you're a performer, you have the compulsion to perform. You have this kind of desire to do what you do in front of crowds of people. I think, ideally, I'd like the tour to be more like a series of one-off concerts that were more special than a long series of road engagements that are more like club shows.

Pitchfork: So you would turn them into big spectacles?

Conrad: Yeah, an event, in the way that a band like the Flaming Lips seem to always manage to make what they do an event. They really excel at that.

Pitchfork: So where do you go from here? Have you been beaten back completely by the fragmentation of the record industry, the critical response to Worlds Apart, and the infectious sense of powerlessness that you talked about? Or do you still want to try to address some of these larger issues?

Conrad: I think that I address them on a personal level. I'm not above talking to people about them. I'm talking to you about them now, because, certainly, they are there on my mind. I haven't been beaten back, and no one has convinced me that those things aren't worth thinking about or talking about at all.