San Diego Cum Portland Cameron Jones of Two Guys played in Pinback and Thingy ...And left to start a band in Portland by David Also Cameron Jones is the songwriter, singer and baritone guitar player of Two Guys. His brother, Ryan, plays drums. He's been in bands since he was 14 years old, usually playing rhythm on either the bass or drums. He first started working with Rob Crow, one of his heroes, in the San Diego band Physics. Eventually he played bass for Thingy, and toured as the drummer for Pinback. I asked him why he decided to leave San Diego, just as things were starting to take off for Pinback. I left San Diego for a lot of little reasons. San Diego as a city can tend to drag people down sometimes. At least with the people that I was friends with, the whole scene that I ended up falling into—the whole city is just kind of a lethargic city and it's kind of an uphill battle if you're not into beach culture and fraternities and stuff like that. What do you mean by an uphill battle? Getting shows? Not so far as getting shows—it's just hard because the city's geared toward that kind of stuff. It's a really conservative city. The prevalent attitude in San Diego is party, be at the beach, surf, stuff that I'm not really that into. So there's this small little subculture of musicians and artists and stuff that has produced some really amazing stuff. So anyway, I started to feel really weighed down by a lot of negativity in some of the people that I was hanging around with and I had a really bad breakup with my girlfriend. All this stuff accumulated and all hit me at once. 5 of my friends moved away, and so I pretty much, for the last 3 or 4 months I lived in San Diego, I sat in my bedroom and—sat in my bedroom. What'd you do in your bedroom, Cameron? It's not what you're thinking. I really just sat in my bedroom and I didn't do anything. I just sat there. I came out of my bedroom to pick up the occasional grilled feta sandwich from Little Italy, like a block away from my house. I went to work…I was just really depressed. Also, I had been trying to get a project of my own off the ground for a long time, and it just didn't seem to happen. So I went on tour with Pinback, and...I gave my notice before going on tour. And then I came back, and after they found someone else to move into my old house, Donny [Pinback's keyboard player at the time] told me the landlords [at my new place] were going to raise the rent $300, so I was kind of screwed. I was staying with my parents at the time, so I couldn't go look for other houses, because they're in Northern California. So I decided to move to Portland—it was something we had talked about before. So then the other part of the question is do you ever regret leave San Diego and Pinback? No. Not anymore. I don't ever regret it anymore. When I first moved here I did, because Two Guys was in the beginning stages and nothing was going on with us. And meanwhile, that was just when Pinback was starting to make tons of money every show—they were starting to have $2000 guarantees. So, unfortunately, I never got in on that, and that kind of bummed me out. But, now I'm really really glad that I moved here. First of all because it got me away from that slump I was in—I mean, just as far as my psychological health goes, it was a good move. And for my musical life it was great too, even though it was hard in the beginning because my old bands were always doing all this cool stuff and I was just stuck in my house practicing in the basement for a year before anything happened with my new band. Now that stuff is starting to happen, it's getting to be really rewarding. Stylistically, the music and image you present with Two Guys are complete opposites. You've got this music that's really intricate; subtle and in your face at the same time. Yet with the band name, the album name, the artwork that you use—everything is really simplistic. Was the image a decision that you made consciously—were you trying to do something that balanced out what you were doing with the music? That's an awesome question, I'm glad you asked. I actually got in a fight with my girlfriend [Courtney] about this not too long ago. [Mimicking Courtney]: "Your band's name is stupid." -laugh- Yeah, exactly. It wasn't something I did to balance out the music. It didn't have anything to do with the music other than me being fed up with all these artsy-fartsy, pretentious as hell bands with all these ridiculously arty names and presenting all these ridiculously arty images of themselves, who couldn't play music. And—I don't know. It's just kinda the philosophy that if you're in a band and trying to make music, that's what you're doing, and incorporating other things into that isn't bad, but the head space I was in when I started this band was one of letting the music just kind of speak for itself and not creating any sort of peripheral bull-shit. Does anyone get it right off? I don't know. I hope. I've never met somebody and had it been clear to me that they've gotten it right off. Some people tell me they like the name, but I don't know why. I don't know if anybody gets it or not. I hope they do. But then again, that kind of goes along with the whole philosophy behind it anyway—it doesn't have anything to do with the name or the image you create. It's the music you create—it kind of sounds like a punk rock cliche but it's kind of just like a "fuck you" for the people who are looking for a band who is image before music. I mean, a lot of people listen to music so they can feel cool—so they can feel like they're in on something that makes them hip, I think. That's not what I want my music to represent to people. And if people like that end up liking my music, that's awesome, but that's not what I want to cater to. How did you develop your style of songwriting? What was it like at age 14, how did it change over the years, and when did it become what it is now? Well, to answer the last part of your question—hopefully someone's craft is always evolving so I don't know if I could really say when it became what it is now because what it is now is different than what it was yesterday or two weeks ago. But, to give you a more practical answer—when I first started writing songs, it was just kind of playing with the little tools I had just discovered; playing with harmony. I didn't develop a sense of melody at all really until at least 4 or 5 years after I started playing music—I think mostly because I was a bass player. I think it was a lot playing with harmony and playing with intervals and liking the way different notes sounded together. Playing with time signatures—I remember being really excited to find out that music didn't have to go 1 2 3 4 1 2 3 4 all the time. I think the evolution of my songwriting and probably a lot of people's songwriting is that of learning that there are these tools that you can use, and that's the easy part. That's the really free part, and fun part, and exciting part. And then once you really get into the part of songwriting itself, and not just playing music, you learn how to put the pieces together so that it makes sense, but it makes sense in a way that, hopefully, only you would be able to communicate.
So you've been playing with time signatures all along? Well, I think the time signature thing is, like, when I first started playing music it was fun to know you could do that. And now it's more like unlearning conditioning, basically. Growing up, listening to popular western music, one of the main attributes is 4/4. So now I think it's more of trying to tap into something more pure than just taking what I've listened to my whole life and just recycling it into something that's my own. I don't know if that makes any sense. I hear you saying that you're trying to get underneath the surface of—instead of just repeating what you hear with your own voice, you're trying to get underneath what you've heard and trying to find something that maybe really does just come from you—or reflects carpentry as well as it does music. I think a better way of explaining it would be—I think a lot of people approach mathy music as something outside the norm, which it is in a way. But what I'm saying is that the more that I've worked with songwriting and writing music and creating music, the more that I've tried to completely disregard that norm. So I'm not doing something just to be outside of the norm. I'm not learning songs in 7/8, say, just so it's not 4/4. 4/4 isn't the norm, it doesn't have to be the norm. Whatever the music comes out as is the norm. But with your history, the projects you've been involved with, it definitely is the norm for you to be playing in 7/8 or 5/4 or whatever else. But just what you said—7/8 or 5/4 or whatever else—it's not the norm for me to play in 5/4, period. It's not the norm for me to play in 4/4, period. The music caters to itself rather than catering to what is typically looked upon as what music should be. I still don't get it. Um—pause—I try not to be reactionary when I write music. The reason that I don't think writing mathy music for me now is just playing with time signatures is because it's not a reaction—I mean, it is obviously a reaction to most music being a certain [way], but it's not a conscious reaction. It's like a struggle to get that out of my head. It's a struggle to get how I've grown up, listening to music, it's a struggle to get that out of me—out of my consciousness. It's a struggle to create, purely, what I think is inside of me rather than to create something that is experimental for the sake of not being like anything else. You've obviously put a lot of thought into the type music you make, and continue to do so. What do you think about being compared to your influences, and what do you say to that notion...what do you say to yourself and what do you say to someone who's brave enough to ask you how you distinguish yourself from where you come from? Well, it's obvious that I've taken certain things from working with Rob, and even Rafter. I mean, I worked with Rafter for longer that I worked with Rob. And Heavy Vegetable was my favorite band ever when I was in high school—and I think he's brilliant. And you can tell, when you listen to our music, that there's influence there—especially the stuff that I wrote when I was first starting this band. The kind of stuff that I tell myself when that comes up and gets reinforced is that it's just a journey to find your voice, I think. Whether or not you can ultimately find your voice and only your voice is something that can be debated for years. But that's what I'm going for. I love listening to music, and the music that I listen to is probably always going to be reflected in the music that I write, whether consciously or not. But I would like to think that I could bring something unique, and I would like to think that the longer that I write, and the more comfortable I get as a musician and as a person, the more unique my music will be. And I know that I've got a long way to go... I mean, it bothers me that [my influences are] so transparent and obvious. And I think that the music that I wrote when I first started this band 2 years ago shows my influences a lot more than the music that I write now. I mean, this band is, like I said, it's the first band that I've ever been the chief songwriter for, and when I first started writing for this band, I didn't have too much experience doing that. I wasn't very sure what my music should or would sound like. It's been an ongoing battle. Personally I think that more bands should be influenced by thingy. Yeah, if you're going to rip somebody off, at least pick somebody good. In the album, you bring up a lot of personal issues. I wonder what kind of experiences do you go through that find their way into your music, and do you make a decision to write about a certain event or person, or do the lyrics you write simply just come out when it's time to put words to music? Well, as far as not writing about specific events or specific situations, that's not a conscious thing. That's just kind of the way I write. I think more than not, it's just kind of what comes out. The stuff that I tend to write about is— It's very personal. Yeah, it mostly comes from intense, emotional stuff. The kind of stuff that I don't feel comfortable talking to people about. In a weird way it's a lot more comforting and it's a lot more liberating to write about something and know that whoever listens to that song is going to hear it than it is to call up somebody and tell them and keep it in yourself, or in your tight little void. I know that you have really high standards for yourself. You don't drink much, you don't smoke, you're a vegetarian, you're a conscious consumer. Politically and philosophically, you're very specific in the way you live. Yet in your music, you don't really express your belief system at all. Is that by design? Do you feel a sense of responsibility that you're "supposed to" have political music so you're rebelling? No, it's definitely not by design. If I was writing lyrics by design I would have a lot more political stuff because I do feel some lurking sense of guilt for not writing about things other than girls. I don't really think about it while I'm writing. So it's not that you have anything against political music, where you might be making a statement against ego and image, you're not necessarily making a statement against political music. No, not at all. A lot of it is that when I do try to write political music, it comes out sounding really naive and simplistic. It's not something that I've done very often, and...I'm not good at it. I've made an effort in the last few songs I've written to take the attention away from the emotional and focus it more toward other things.
Recorded [The band's new and first album] must have been a cathartic experience for you, then. Yeah, the music I was writing in that space of time was reflective of my life. And my life was this big, crappy emotional mess. So you feel more stable now? Yeah. I'm not in a shitty relationship. I'm not sitting at home with no friends every day. And I guess I can kind of focus on bigger and better tasks—or, at least different tasks. So what was recording at Jackpot! Studios like? It was horrible, but not because of Jackpot!, but just because I don't think I like recording. It makes me really nervous, and I don't really have anything to compare the studio experience with because I've never recorded in a real studio before this. But Larry Crane is a brilliant engineer, and a super nice guy, and super fun to hang out with. I think I would have had a lot more fun if I was just going into Jackpot! and just hanging out with Larry Crane for 10 hours a day instead of trying to record our record. But, I don't like recording. It's so much pressure to get everything perfect, and it takes the fun out of music for me. I know it doesn't have to be perfect, it's totally my neurosis that puts the pressure on myself in the first place, but it just freaks me out. It's like stage-fright, but it's like stage fright times a billion because you know people are going to be listening to that "show" over and over and over again. And that's what you have to show. I spent 2 years writing the music for that, and then there's this 42 minute collection of songs is all I have to show for the past 2 years. But, that said, I like the songs and I'm really happy with the way that it sounds. And the faults that I can see in it so far haven't been mentioned to me once by anybody else who's listened to it. So hopefully that's really just a personal thing that I'm bringing to it. Who are some local bands you value and why? Um...there is Annavox of course. No reference to the interviewer, but Annavox is the first band that I really connected with when I moved here—person-wise and music-wise. We've had a long history together. We've played a lot of shows and we're all friends, and I think some of the music that is on that cd is close to tear-jerking as it gets for me. Like, watching them play—I don't think I've ever been moved to tears by watching someone play music, but I've gotten pretty close with you guys, and that's saying something. Besides Annavox, there's VI Foot Sloth, whom I've also played a fair amount of shows with, and who I'm friends with. I think their songwriting is just great. They're just a really good pop band. Unfortunately their cd they just recorded doesn't reflect that at all, but if you ever get a chance to go see them live, it's pretty mind-blowing. There's that band, the Empty Set, which is this band that we played with, like a year ago, that I totally forgot about. I remember liking them when we played with them and totally forgot about them, and then this show coming up on April 3rd got put together, and I went to their website and downloaded some of their songs from their new EP they recorded, and it's really good. They're one of the more impressive Portland bands that I've heard. Menomena is pretty cool. I've only seen them once, and I remember really liking them live, and then I listened to a couple mp3s of theirs on the internet and wasn't so impressed, but I think they're more of a live band than a recorded band. That seems to be the curse of local music in any city. Yeah, I guess if you're used to listening to a band live, then it's hard to live up to it. Especially when you think that most people only get 4 or 5 days in the studio, and the rest is done at home on the PC that keeps crashing. Yeah, I would have liked recording a whole lot more if I had a month to spend instead of 3 days. If you could change anything about the scene here, what would it be? I'd like to see more exposure by local media of music that doesn't fit into the indie-math-rock category. It seems like it's pretty math-indie-centric around here. And I think there are probably a lot of great bands in this city that I've never heard of and a lot of people have never heard of because they don't get any press because they don't sound like Death Cab For Cutie or something. What do you believe that Portland's strengths are, musically? One thing that struck me when I first moved to Portland was how supportive people were of the local scene. Just compared to San Diego where it's so hard to get people to pay attention to you unless you have black, spiky hair and wear pants that are too short for you and wear white spiky belts—it's just so hard.. Here, people come to shows, and people are excited about local music at least, even if it is kind of limited stylistically. There's a lot more support and there are a lot of people trying to do cool stuff musically. Whether or not they pull it off is subject to debate, but it's cool to see people enthusiastic about things whereas in San Diego people are so apathetic. Ok. Final question. You only have 5 bucks and you really want to get on your girlfriend's good side. What kind of date do you take her on? Five bucks...and I want to get on my girlfriend's good side. -thinks- I gotta give a good answer to this one. Because you know she's going to be the only one who reads this, at least this far. What—is this going to be the question you ask everyone you're going to interview at the end? Ok...5 bucks. I think that I would take her to Wunderland. I think it costs, how much does it cost to get in then? 2 bucks to get in and then— Well fuck then we'd be screwed, we'd have, like a dollar to split to play the games. Of course, that's 20 nickels. That's true, but most of the games are more than one nickel. Right. 5 bucks. Maybe I'd just, um, maybe I'd just buy a 12—oh, I've done this before! What am i talking about? Buy a 12 pack of Pabst and sit on the couch and watch "I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here." That really turns her on, huh? Well, what can you do for 5 bucks? It's a reflection on you all of a sudden. Well, I'm into it, too. It's a mutual pleasure. That's why we're together. Where to see Two Guys in April: Thurs 4/3/03 10pm Mon 4/7/03 8:30pm |
