Interview - Wheat (Boston, MA; Fall, 2008)

Buy tickets: T.T. the Bear’s (Cambridge, Mass.), Saturday, November 15th, 2008, 8:30pm

Wheat: Official Site | MySpace

On a crisp, fall evening, melophobe sat down with Scott Levesque and Brendan Harney of Wheat. Over falafel and Turkish coffee, we discussed life as a stay-at-home dad, Daniel Johnston, Bob Dylan and, of course, Wheat. Wheat will be playing their first show in over a year at T.T. the Bear’s in Cambridge, Mass. on Saturday, November 15th (Buy tickets.) Wheat’s next LP White Ink, Black Ink is expected to be released in Spring 2009. In the coming year, Wheat also hopes to re-release their seminal and out of print albums Medeiros and Hope and Adams.

“People like the concept of Wheat.” – Scott Levesque of Wheat

In 2000, I was a college dj when post-grunge was thankfully on its way out, but nothing new appealed to me. Turned off by the Third Eye Blinds and Sponges of the time, I hosted a so-called social justice hour, spinning classic Gil Scott Heron and Sweet Honey in the Rock records. Then, in a bin of new cds, I discovered a copy of Medeiros from the Massachusetts-based band Wheat. Track after track, I was struck by the simple lyrics, the reserved rhythms and the subtle touches of white noise. After my first listen of “Girl Singer,” a seductive but not overtly sexy ballad with a languid beat, I became a diehard Wheat fan. Indie rock had sparked a fire, and I began to search for and consume new releases from a myriad of small labels. It was that moment—that painfully slow drumbeat that introduces “Girl Singer”—that changed me.

Eight years later, sitting down with Scott Levesque and Brendan Harney of Wheat, it was clear that they relish this type of moment. Revisiting old songs in preparation for their upcoming show, Brendan’s face lit up as he hummed the instrumental that ends the mini-album That’s Exactly What I Wanted . . . Exactly That. Scott mimed the drum intro to “Girl Singer,” grinning as he said, “We were trying to write a soulful Otis Redding song, but it came out Wheat.”

When discussing their music, both Scott and Brendan talk like this. Like Wheat is not Scott plus Brendan plus a range of players over the years. Wheat is something that happened to them, that is happening to them. It’s a series of moments that collectively find meaning.

“People like the concept of Wheat,” said Scott, referring to a small, devoted group of fans from all over the world that see Wheat as more than just music. Brendan gave examples of artists who are similarly beloved, but not commercially successful. “Everyone loves Neutral Milk Hotel’s [In the] Aeroplane Over the Sea, but how many people actually own it?” (For the record, I do).

Even now, a year after Wheat’s last release and short tour, fans daily write simple, affectionate messages on Wheat’s MySpace page, relaying Wheat moments. “Had a dream about you guys last night,” or “Heard Wheat when I was at the supermarket,” or “Hope and Adams has been the soundtrack to my summer.” (As an aside, Wheat didn’t set up a Myspace page until they discovered that someone had made one for them and had attracted thousands of friends. Likewise, a Canadian fan they’ve never met maintains a thorough site of rare recordings and live shows).

Scott and Brendan are clearly surprised and humbled by their fans’ reaction to the music. Brendan said, “Some of the e-mails we receive are so sincere and touching. If they were songs, they’d be beautiful.” And they aren’t afraid to reach out in return. Brendan or Scott reply to almost every Myspace comment, no matter how small, and often reply to personal messages. Scott said, “Sometimes people are shocked that we reply, but I’m not some self-important sage who’s imparting great wisdom. I’m just a guy in his pajamas, reaching out to somebody who reached out to me.”

“I can understand why musicians in hugely popular bands blow their heads off.” – Scott

Reflecting on his favorite bands, Scott listed Miracle Legion, which, at its highest point, seemed poised for commercial success. Despite Michael Stipe championing their music and a series of acclaimed albums, they never broke into the mainstream, and most of their releases are out of print. But Scott never viewed this as a failure or a disappointment. “I once saw Miracle Legion in a club that was practically empty. But that night I experienced some of the most pure music moments of my life.”

There’s certainly a parallel between Miracle Legion’s experience and Wheat’s. Recognizing the raw talent in Wheat’s first two releases Medeiros and Hope and Adams, Columbia signed them in 2002, resulting in the album Per Second, Per Second, Per Second . . . Every Second. What followed were tours with popular bands, television appearances and contributions to numerous soundtracks. But at the same time, it led to band members quitting and general unhappiness. Many fans weren’t keen on the album, feeling that the subtle, understated genuine Wheat quality was lost in the professional production. Brendan told me, “Of all our albums, it’s the one I don’t fully own,” quickly adding, “but there are some great moments on it.”

But Wheat’s commercial success isn’t what matters. It’s not something they’re interested in talking about. It happened to them, but it’s nothing they ever pursued. As Scott described it, “We’ve always been a naïve band. I never learned how to play instruments. I don’t think I’m a great musician.” Likewise for Brendan, popularity isn’t necessarily worth pursuing. As he put it, “Often what’s kooky and hard to market is what’s also the most beautiful.”

When pushed to reflect on touring with other successful bands, Scott said, “I can understand why musicians in hugely popular bands blow their heads off. Knowing that you have to fill a club with people, that thousands of people depend on you for income – I wouldn’t be able to handle that kind of pressure.”

“Daniel Johnston stands in a doorway into the world of art, and the entry is huge.” – Brendan Harney of Wheat

Visual art helped create Wheat and continues to influence the music. Scott and Brendan met in college, during a three-hour art class where they hung out during the breaks. Scott said, “Our goal with Wheat was to say less, especially with the lyrics. The lyrics boil down to only what needs to be said. And that’s exactly what attracted me to Brendan’s paintings.” Each Wheat record is accompanied by an art piece, and whether stated or unstated, Scott and Brendan are keenly aware of the concept that guides each one.

Scott and Brendan both cite Daniel Johnston as a favorite artist, making parallels to their own views on music. Said Brendan, “Johnston has a childlike view of art. He stands in a doorway into the world of art, and the entry is huge. He sees this enormous world, and enters it without fear, without life getting in the way.” Though they sing his praises and describe the genius of his work, they don’t share his lack of trepidation.

In the same breath, they talk about artists they admire who continually reinvent and renew themselves. Lou Reed. Bob Dylan. (Brendan admitted to owning over 40 Dylan records and couldn’t resist singing along to a couple of Dylan tracks playing on the bar’s speakers).

And for their upcoming fifth LP, White Ink, Black Ink, Wheat also reinvents and renews. As Brendan described it, the album is “More positive, more confident, more comfortable than anything in our past.” Laughing, Brendan noted that, “Of all our albums, it’s the closest we’ve come to standing in the doorway with Johnston.” In earlier Wheat albums, insecure and self-conscious sentiment often dominates the lyrics, complemented by languid beats. The soft-spoken tone creates a reserved character that’s timidly trying to figure out life. In “Leslie West,” Scott sings “And it’s hard whispering out your name. And it’s good, but I think I kind of miss you just the same.” And nothing tops the painful honesty in their popular song that asks, “Don’t I hold you like you want to be held?” It’s this sort of discomfiting feeling that, though universal, is less common to the writer, who is now married and a father of three.

That doesn’t mean that Wheat’s narrator now has everything figured out. In fact, in one of the first lines of the new album, Scott sings “Half of the time I feel I’m clever, and half of the time I just haven’t a clue.” At the same time, the narrator shows hints of maturity, like in “A Warning Song.” Scott sings, “I worry about you, and I want to know that you’re all right.”

The concept of White Ink, Black Ink, evolved from graffiti that splashed the wall outside of Wheat’s recording studio. The artist had written, “I have morals.” Something about the statement struck Scott and Brendan. It was subtle, meek, yet sincere (“El Sincero” is another track from the album). This was an artist that broke the law by tagging a wall, but at the same time, drew lines. In white ink, in black ink.

“These small seemingly insignificant things, when put together as a whole, have great meaning.” – Scott

Wheat’s last release was 2007’s Everyday I Said a Prayer for Kathy and Made a One Inch Square. The art concept that shaped the album was just that. Individuals could create tiny squares, which collectively could create something beautiful. As Scott described it, “These small seemingly insignificant things, when put together as a whole, have great meaning.” The “Everyday I said a prayer” concept embodies what Scott and Brendan repeatedly said during my two hours with them. Moments, though they may be small and ephemeral, find meaning when shared with others. And that’s why Wheat is so beloved by its fans and so meaningful to Scott and Brendan. As Scott said, “Under the umbrella of Wheat, we’re able to share some love with a small community. And the smaller your community, the more universal the concept.”

Throughout our conversation, I was struck by how, despite their claim of naivety, Scott and Brendan are so thoughtful about music and its power to draw people together. As music fans, they’re profoundly touched by what they love, and likewise are touched by those who love Wheat. They sincerely believe that people crave connection, and music’s a great medium for it.

While hearing their stories of fans relating “Wheat moments,” I reflected on how music has affected my own life. Sure, “Girl Singer” revitalized my love of seeking out small, indie rock bands, but I wouldn’t say it had a profound effect. In fact, I couldn’t think of any music that had that kind of effect. And then it hit me. A week prior, I had bought two extra copies of Sufjan Stevens’ Christmas box set, a collection that holds unreasonable and somewhat absurd meaning in my life. I can honestly say that this music has changed my view of Christmas forever. I bought those extra copies believing that I’d find someone who would appreciate the music at least half as much as I do. When I told Brendan, he was thrilled to receive one of those copies. And I was thrilled to spread that Wheat-like love.

Spread the love. Hear the new songs. Go see Wheat at TT the Bear’s on Saturday, November 15th, 2008. Buy tickets here.

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