Tom Hawkins



“I think the stage that I'm at right now is where I am just sort of vomiting. It’s what I sort of described a few minutes back.”

That’s Devin Townsend checking in from Baltimore, in a backstage area that is fucking with our cell phone reception. The 45-year-old guitarist and songwriter is getting ready for an off-day show he’s playing in between dates opening for Clutch, and we’re talking about the work Townsend has been working on in the studio before the tour.

“Whatever I feel like writing, I just start to vomit it out, and at a certain point I've vomited out 12 or 15 ideas, maybe one or two of them — if I'm lucky — start to spur on an idea that I find intellectually stimulating in some ways,” he said, adding that he'll refine and evolve the idea until it turns into a spark that lets him get the package together. “Once I get that I can start thinking about song titles, and album titles, and artwork and then start to really chip away at a specific thing.”

So right now, not even Townsend — who is touring in support of a his 17th studio album and the Devin Townsend Project’s seventh studio album, Transcendence — has a home for these ideas, but he is hopeful.

“I came up with something the other day that I have a lot of hope for, but my first inclination was to make the ending of it really complicated, and so I did that, but in listening back I was like, although I like that, what it's implying to me — emotionally or artistically — may, I may have to revisit this or it may have to be tacked on to a different song entirely, but there's certainly something there."

There’s certainly some travel on the itinerary, too.

“There's a bunch of people in Sweden that I've got these sort of small projects started with, so I am heading there in February, and I am working with four individuals,” he said, confirming that one of them is his good friend Mikael Akerfeldt from Opeth.

“I'm hoping, if he's available. And we'll see what happens, but until it's something worth listening to, I'll certainly take my time on it,” Townsend said. “There's no burning desire to put out something half-ass just because it's him and I, right?”

He’s right, but is a 25-year-anniversary for Strapping Young Lad’s Heavy as a Really Heavy Thing something that’s on the table?

“No, I don't think that's in my cards at the moment.” he said.

And that’s alright — we’re perfectly happy with everything else. Read our full Q&A below, and get more information on his December 2 show at Jannus Live via local.cltampa.com.

Clutch w/Devin Townsend/The Obsessed

Sat. Dec. 2, 7 p.m. $24.50 and up.

Jannus Live, 200 1st Ave N, St. Petersburg.

More info: local.cltampa.com





Hey Devin, how we doing today?

I'm good, how are you doing?

I'm alright, thanks. Sorry we've had a hard time catching up.

Not at all, man.

I don't think I have much time with you, so I am gonna ask you a bunch of awkward questions.

[Silence.]

Hello? Devin?

Hey, sorry I think I walked down the stairs to where there was no reception. I am not down there any longer.

Sweet. I'm gonna try to ask you some questions that you haven't been asked a million times, which I'm sure is super annoying.

Nah, at this point anything you ask is totally fine.

Haha, OK, I only halfway believe you there, although you are a pretty awesome interview in YouTube videos. You're right a lot of songs that don't make your record. What happens to those shit songs?

Well the ones that are totally shit I don't ever release. There's probably, like, four levels of songwriting that I kind of find myself falling into, and, like, prior to a record taking shape I very rarely have a direction until a certain amount of time, but, I just keep writing from the hip. Whatever I feel like writing, I just start to vomit it out, and at a certain point, um, say I've vomited out 12 or 15 ideas, maybe one or two of them — if I'm lucky — start to spur on an idea that I find intellectually stimulating in some ways. Then I'll start to refine that idea, and that song may stay or it may evolve into something else that the idea had sparked, and then once I get that I can start thinking about song titles, and album titles, and artwork and then start to really chip away at a specific thing.

The rest of the stuff — the stuff that doesn't really fit into that theme exactly — it may be songs that I like, but it doesn't exactly contribute to whatever theme the main group starts to form, that usually becomes bonus material, like the bonus disc. Every record I've done for the past five or seven years, at least, has had a complete bonus record with it. Then the other stuff either starts to evolve into another project further down the line, or it just gets shelved. Like, I've got folders of material that is either just half-finished or is really, you know, ideas that aren't worth anything, right?

Right.

Yeah.

And I just wanted to confirm, I realize that your litmus test for putting out songs and records is whether or not you like it. How many of those crap songs are songs that are complete ideas are ones where you're like, "I don't necessarily like this but maybe my fans will."

I don't really, uh, utilize that criteria. Even on the last record, there was two songs that I had written, that I completed, that I presented to the band, and one of them the band really liked, but it didn't resonate enough with me for me to, uh, want to pursue as a statement, and so I let it go. There was another song that we did that I didn't like as much theme-wise, but the band really liked, and we put it on the bonus disc. To this day they're always asking me why we don't play it or, you know, if we should bring it into the set, but basically my criteria is something a little more intangible where does it resonate with me on an emotional level. And if it doesn't, then there's nothing I can really say about it right?

Like what's the point.

Exactly. And for the audience that becomes a problem really quickly. When you're trying to think, "What is the audience gonna like? Maybe they're gonna like this," or, "Whether or not I should make the chorus more accessible," those types of things, which are tempting, the more the label and management are always pushing me to think that way, but it's a slippery slope that I try to avoid, right?





No, it's a really good way to go about it — might as well never open that door. Now, I love talking with musicians who love being in the studio, and you've been in the studio lately especially in the last week or two. Working late night on some occasions. Could you explain what you're working on so you working? The chorus and choir and orchestra for the moth projects? Devin Townsend Project, Casualties of Cool etc.?

Well it's all of it, but none of it. I think the stage that I'm at right now is, um what I sort of described a few minutes back where I am just sort of vomiting, and some of the ideas, as I get them out of my system, might evolve into something that's quite different. I came up with something the other day that I have a lot of hope for, but my first, uh, inclination was to make the ending of it really complicated, and so I did that, but in listening back I was like, although I like that, what it's implying to me — emotionally or artistically — may, I may have to revisit this or it may have to be tacked on to a different song entirely, but there's certainly something there.

Right now I'm just getting those ideas out. A lot of times a completed songs, too, just end up being totally, what their completed form is gets just totally disregarded by the time other people hear it, but you're fumbling in the dark. So the stage that I'm at right now is the intense, dark fumbling.

Not a bad place. Real quick, I don't know this, but I think your kids are still young. Do your kids know who the character Ziltoid is yet?

Oh, oh my god. Nah, my son participated in my story. That's why those things are called pusitors (?). A seven-year-old trying to give you ideas, you know. Ziltoid was really cool for me, especially when I first started, because it was a way for me to be creative in a set of parameters, uh, it was almost a loophole and a way for me to participate in heavier, complex material that didn't really resonate with what I was trying to avoid with Strapping. It was, because it was sort of fantastical and science fiction, I could play these sort of heavy riffs and do these sorts of things, "Planet Smasher!!," and didn't have to feel like I would have to go deep, into that emotional abyss that I was required to go to in Strapping. I just became really uncomfortable with that, so Ziltoid was great in the begining, and at the end of the record it was really cool, too, but it was, again, much different because all of a sudden there was kids listening to it. Not just mine, but other people, like, "Oh yeah kids are listening to this stuff, so..."

[silence]

Devin, you still there? I lost you. Oh, you're back.

It's crazy, can't move six-inches in either direction here.

Oh dude, it's all good. Are you on a bus?

I'm in a venue, but we're on venue wifi, so it's a little sketchy.





You were talking about these dark places that you don't necessarily like to go, and you've talked about how your first year of sobriety was really tough for your songwriting. I like to imagine that folks trying to go on that same journey look up to you. Could you talk about where you are as far as your sobriety goes these days? How you were able to hack that first year and get your life back on track after everything and the decision to be sober.

Well, it's an interesting time for me now because, I mean, I've had a glass of wine every now and then to be fair. But I haven't been drunk at all, but I might, you know, we went on a cruise with my wife, my son and I, and I had a glass of wine. You know, it was my mother's birthday and I had a glass of wine, and, so I guess the bottom line is I don't crave it now, but I also, you know — if it's a situation like that I might do it — but I recognize, I think, after I got away from, from any sort of drugs or alcohol when my kid was born, I think was looking for an escape more than anything else. And I think, maybe now, I don't feel the need to escape as much. However, it's good for me to also recognize that my nature, very quickly, it's a slippery slope and it can devolve into things that are really unhealthy for me. Just because I think I am fundamentally self-destructive, I think, on a lot of levels, which really works for my creative process, but not so much for moderation.

Yeah.

So as much as I've had a glass of wine in a couple of situations, I have to keep a real close I on it, and I do, you know.

And kind of relating to what you were just talking about, looking back on Alien, do you feel like it was a risky move, as far as your personal life and mental health goes, to go off the meds and make that record? I know you were proud of that record, but is there a case where if it sucked that you would've hated yourself?

I think that the decision, I assumed that the decision was maybe rooted in things that, in hindsight, may be different than, um, at the time I thought it was more that I was experimenting with drinking or smoking dope or whatever, but I think in hindsight my life at that point was a conglomeration of things that I don't know that I understood, you know. My mother-in-law had moved in with me, Strapping had gotten really toxic and we were surrounded by a bunch of real negative things, and there was money problems, and all this sort of stuff, so I think with Alien I sort of experimented with a lack of accountability more than anything else, creatively.

If there's anything I learned from that, then it's that the more popular you get, and the more you progress as an artist and as a public entity, the more your words carry weight, and I think that a lot of times the insecure person in me doesn't want to admit that, but the pragmatism of my job, and everything, it certainly encourages me to be that way because whatever you say, people are going to say, "Well there it is." And 25 years of doing this, 25 years of interviews, the amount of changes that I've been through that have been public.

Yeah.

If I stop and think about it, it's fucking embarrassing, right?

Yeah, the record is unkind to emotions.

Well, with it, I was like, "Fuck it." I'm not gonna worry too much about what the audience thinks about it. I'm just gonna say things that I feel compelled to say considering where my life's at at this point, which made a piece of work that I was proud of. But ultimately what it drew to me were things that I was really uncomfortable with, so the, uh, dope, or the booze, or the social scenarios I found myself in, or my lack of desire to control my temper or whatever resulted in just a situation that, objectively, I can stand back from now and be like, "Well 1+1=2," and that's what you're looking for, there's that. And when I talk about accountability at this point, man, it's like more than anything else in my world right now, it's about defining what it is that I want. And then there's certain things that fit into that, and there's certain things that don't. And that's really the bottom line.

Right on, and to kind of switch gears a little bit. You guys played together at red rocks earlier in the year and those dudes Opeth are awesome, so any truth to the idea of you working with Mikael Akerfeldt from Opeth? I feel like the metal world would bow down if that happened.

Well, we talk, and me and Mike have been buddies for a long time, and we have the same management. We've talked about it on a lot of occasions, but I also think that what happens after a certain amount of time doing this professionally is that your motivation to do these things changes from, "Wouldn't be egotistically gratifying to form a band with somebody who you have respect for," and not it's like, "If there's time" and "if the moment is right," then surely we'd do it, but we live on the other side of the planet from each other. However, there's a bunch of people in Sweden that I've got these sort of small projects started with, so I am heading there in February, and I am working with four individuals. Mike is one of them, I'm hoping, if he's available. And we'll see what happens, but until it's something worth listening to, I'll certainly take my time on it, right? There's no burning desire to put out something half-ass just because it's him and I, right?

Right, and how's it been playing the new stuff for the Clutch crowd.

We've only had one show with the Clutch crowd. I think their crowd seems to be very much like them where it's something very different, maybe on the surface, than what is underneath it. Because I've always thought of them being really progressive thinking and highly-intelligent people, and that's what I get from the audience as well, but it's also under this, uh, on the surface, it's really, it's, like, beards and dirtbike kind of vibe right?

Ha, yeah.

But when we're playing, I love the guys in the band, their crew; it's just highly-intelligent, really clued-in people, and I sense the same thing from the audience.

Right on, and the Transcendence stuff is translating? It's cool to watch them take it in?

Well, we've only had one show. I think that maybe it's not the perfect fit between bands, but I think for the sake of confusing a bunch of new people, um we're doing a pretty good job.





That's awesome. I feel like landing that Steve Vai gig changed your life in that he was a mentor, totally better than you were at the time. Are you able to pay that forward with any of the up and coming guitar players these days?

Oh yeah, I like to think that I can. I like to think that I support people around me, um, professionally and personally in ways that are healthy. I'm firmly of the mindset that if one person grows, everybody else grows, and when you're working with people, I want to see people succeed. Whether or not that's with me, or on their own separate from me. I have no desire to, like, uh, horde anybody, so if there's an opportunity that I find works for somebody else, certainly, uh help them in any ways they can.

Yeah, it's really cool to hear how much you've grown, and the warmth that's inside of you talking about your family and stuff like that, so I wanted to thank you. Are you meeting fans after the show? Friends have told me they’re bringing Strapping Young Lad vinyl to try and get signed.

Well if I find myself where there's people, then I am always willing to say, "Hi." It's hard for me to guarantee these things as well. Some days it's like I get off the stage, and I just want to sit backstage and stare at the roof, right?

Yeah.

But I also think that, if there's people that are there, and specifically if it's cold or whatever, I won't leave them hanging right, so if he's there then definitely.

Yeah, and no news, and I know Strapping was kind of a dark place, but it's been 25 years, but no 25 year anniversary on that?

No, I don't think that's in my cards at the moment.

Well thanks so much for your time. I hope you have a good show, and we'll see you down here in St. Petersburg in a couple days.

Thanks so much, buddy, I look forward to it.

Have a good one.

Cheers.

Bye.

Bye-bye.