Coachella means redemption for desert rock luminary

Brant Bjork, a luminary of the desert rock scene for 25 years, was crushed when he wasn't identified as being a part of it on Dave Grohl's fall HBO series, "Sonic Highways."

Grohl shined a spotlight on desert rock and Bjork's band, Kyuss, with footage from the early 1990s of the Nirvana drummer touting the Palm Springs scene and Kyuss' 1992 album, "Blues for the Red Sun." But interviewed on camera were guitarist Josh Homme and producer Chris Goss from Kyuss and Queens of the Stone Age, and desert rock pioneers Mario Lalli and Scott Reeder.

The broadcast only aggravated the hurt Bjork was already feeling after settling a lawsuit with Homme and Reeder for having toured under the name Kyuss Lives! without permission from Homme and Reeder as license holders to the Kyuss name.

Bjork, 42, is credited on the cover of "Blues for the Red Sun" for that album's concept, but the band didn't license the name Kyuss until after Bjork left the band.

Kyuss lead singer John Garcia said in an interview this week Bjork and Homme were the band's co-leaders and "he and Josh were a great team. Brant's a great songwriter and I 100 percent believe he is one of the reasons Kyuss was so successful."

But the tide may be turning for Bjork. He's been invited to play Coachella for the first time with his new band, Brant Bjork and the Low Desert Punk Band. Their new album, "Black Power Flower," has enabled Bjork to release his feelings about the lawsuit, the breakup of Kyuss and the discoveries he's made about himself as the son of a black man raised by adopted white parents.

The song, "Stokely Up Now," with its line, "Hey, did you see that?/That's a dog and that's a cat" is Bjork "calling it like he sees it" about being a member of Kyuss. But "Buddha Time (Everything Fine)," indicates he's moving on as he repeats the line, "It's all good."

His wife, Zaina Alwan, says "Black Power Flower" is Bjork "putting up his dukes."

"This record is very much speaking the truth for where he is right now," Alwan said. "I do think it's a powerful thing and (turning to Bjork) I think it's your version. You're not going to go sock someone in the face, you're not going to slap a lawsuit on somebody. That's not your style. Your style is to express yourself in music. And this is probably the most intense record that Brant has ever done."

Bjork now has his own forum to reflect on his history going back to his childhood with Homme. He did so in a lengthy interview at his second home on a small ranch in Joshua Tree.

The Desert Sun: Was Kyuss your first band?

Brant Bjork: No. My first band was called Today with Craig Armstrong and Ted Reed. I was 13. We had two drummers, kind of like a jam band. So I for sure brought that jamming experience from Today into Kyuss.

Did that give you the foundation for Kyuss?

Absolutely. I played in Today 'til I was 14, 15. I had a best friend, Chris Cockrell, and we loved skating and punk rock and he was my age. In the summer of '87, we were like, "Wouldn't it be cool if we were in a band together!" So that summer, he decided he wanted to play bass. I knew a guy from the neighborhood who happened to be selling a bass and that was Nick Oliveri. So we went over and asked Nick and Nick was like, "I'm selling my bass because I'm starting to play guitar." So Chris, Nick and I started jamming. That was the beginning really of what was to become (Kyuss). We didn't really have a name then, but Chris and I had at least 10 or 12 songs and Nick was playing with us.

That summer, I got a phone call from Josh Homme. Josh and I met on a local soccer team, AYSO, and we discovered we both liked punk rock. I played drums and he said, "I have a guitar." His mother drove him over to my house one weekend and we jammed. I was like, "Wow, he's really good." I could tell he had taken lessons. But Josh went to a private school and I went to a public school and I didn't hang out with him. So, fast-forwarding to that summer of '87, he called and said, "I just got a new guitar and I'd like to start jamming again." I said, "We actually got a band going. Maybe you could be part of the band?" So he came in and we started jamming. It was Chris, Nick, Josh and myself. We didn't have a singer.

Were you too insecure to sing at that time?

I think we were just so excited to play our instruments and create music that we didn't really focus on a vocalist. By the end of summer, we had a nice tight unit going and that's when we said, "Hey, what do we want to do with a singer?" Chris knew a couple guys from school who wanted to come up and see this band jam. It was John Moreno and a guy named John Garcia. They watched us rehearse and, at some point, John was like, "Hey, I'm going down to the liquor store and grab some smokes." For some reason, I went with him and, in the car, John was playing the record by The Cult, "Electric." He was singing along to the record — quite well. I said, "Wow, you're a really good singer. Are you looking to be a singer?" He said, "No, no, I just sing in the car." I said, "Well, we're looking for a singer. Would you be interested in singing with our band?" He said, "No, no, I can't do that." He was just shy. Then, a week or two later in school — Palm Desert High School — John said, "Hey, man, were you serious about me singing in your band?" I said, "Yeah!" He said, "Well, I'd like to try." And that was it.

How did the name Kyuss come about?

Within a month of school starting in '87, we were ready to gig — generator parties, wherever. So I found a name called Katzenjammer. It was a German word and it meant like hangover. We gigged under Katzenjammer all of '87 and into early '88. Then we all decided we had outgrown the name. People were thinking it was like Cats and Jammers and we were like, "OK, this doesn't work." So I opened up this Dungeons and Dragons book called "Fiend Folio" and I found this character called Son of Kyuss. I talked to Chris and he instantly thought, "Oh, that's cool." I thought, "What if we just pluraled it — Sons of Kyuss." At that time, we wanted to go in more of a dark, heavy vibe than a poppy, uplifting comical vibe. To us, Sons of Kyuss sounded kind of heavy. So, we were Sons of Kyuss for about a year and then we kept refining our direction. It was like we were trimming the fat, so, "Hey, let's just be Kyuss."

How did you get your recording contract?

We decided we wanted to record a 7-inch. A friend of ours whose father was a professional musician knew a guy in Orange County that had a studio. We went up to Westminster, at a studio called Headway, and recorded three songs. About a week after the session, my phone rang and a woman said, "Is this Sons of Kyuss? My name is Catherine Enny. I'm an intern at Headway, where you just recorded. I really like your music. Do you guys play out?" I said, "Yeah." She said, 'Well, I'm interested in coming to see you guys. Do you have a manager?' 'A manager? No. We certainly don't have a manager.' So, in two weeks we were playing a place on Palm Canyon, the Comedy Haven. She came out with her partner, named Ron Krown, and they came up to us after the show and said, "That was awesome. We want to manage you." She took us out to dinner and she said, "We want to take you to L.A. and get you a record deal." It was just so surreal. I don't remember any super excitement because it was just so beyond what we thought could happen.

So she got you the record deal. Why wasn't there a contract signed saying you guys were all partners in the band?

There was. (But) Josh and I were still 17. I don't even remember looking at it, (but) we started a partnership and a publishing company. The partnership was Nick Oliveri and John Garcia and myself and Josh Homme. Chris had left the band by then. The publishing company was Cacti Music and we all had 25 percent shares. We signed our deal and released a compilation of demos we had been working on. That record was called "Wretch," which was originally supposed to be "Wrench," but they botched.

That was 1991 and the music world had changed drastically from 1987. Seattle had exploded. You had bands like Nirvana and Soundgarden and Tad and a label called Sub Pop. Cathy told us about Sup Pop when she first started bringing us to L.A. She said, "This is the future." So, we were tapping into the Sub Pop thing and it reminded me a lot of what was going on in the desert. I took note that, "It's really cool that they're embracing their environment and using it as a platform to market and create their music. We're a desert band and we should be doing the same thing."

Being in the desert, I thought a lot of bands had chips on our shoulders because we weren't from a cool, hip place. The desert is really cool and hip now, but back then, it was not. It was painful to grow up in the middle of nowhere. Generator parties weren't the glorious, awesome thing people think they are today. They were a pain in the (butt) and dangerous. But, I had the epiphany that maybe the pain and the chip on the shoulders of being a desert band could be what it was all about for us. So I had this book called "Our Universe." I was searching for things that could represent our music and our desert. I thought "The desert's kind of a universe." I came upon a picture and below it, it said, "Blues for the Red Sun," and I knew instantly, "That's the name of our next record." So I had the title and I started to develop and hear a concept in my head and a sound. Like any epiphany, it just starts to fall out of you. Once I had that vision and saw that title, I thought, "We've got to get a picture of Nick's bass amp in the desert."

We went across the country touring to New York and back with the Dwarves, which was a Sub Pop band. That's when it all came to me that we were a desert band. I just started to develop this pride for where I was from. When you liberate yourself like that, your creativity just pours out. "Caterpillar March" was about how all the Caterpillar tractors were destroying our desert. "Green Machine" is about sacrificing the soul of things for profit, about exploitation and corruption and greed and how it was affecting the desert. "50 Million Year Trip" is a song about Nick Oliveri rolling his car — stories we all grow up with in the desert. I got the cover of the record. It was a picture from that book, "Our Universe."

We recorded the record with Chris Goss. I used to go up to Chris Goss' house in Hollywood and we used to sit in his listening room and smoke joints and listen to '70s rock records for sonic and arrangement references. We went to master "Blues for the Red Sun" in New York City. I was going to that mastering session with Chris Goss and Josh decided he wanted to go. So, while the session was going on, Catherine pulled me into a conference room. Josh was sitting there and she said, "We need to decide how we're going to split the publishing for the new record." I said, "I thought we already had a publishing company." She said, "Well, I think we might have to do a new one. I said, "Why?" She said, 'Josh wants to split it up according to who wrote the songs." I looked at him and said, "Well, we're essentially an arranged jam band. I don't know how we would do that." Then Josh said, 'I want to be known for the songs I write." I said, "OK, I understand that. You want to be recognized for your creativity. So, why don't we just put on the record that any particular song was written by so-and-so. But internally, we'll still keep it even." Josh said, "I don't want to do that. I want to split it up."

Now Josh and I were in full conflict. I told Josh, "You and I have always written the majority of the songs. We have a great writing partnership. But, without John and Nick, it doesn't really matter. We're an organic band — like Black Sabbath." Black Sabbath was always even. And he didn't want to do it. So I looked at Catherine Enny and said, "Cathy, I trust you. I love you as a person and as a manager, and I look to you as the expert here. What do we do?" And she started to explain to me how publishing works. She endorsed Josh's trip and I was shocked. But I didn't know how to combat it. So I yielded and just said, "OK." And, almost out of spite, I said, "Show me how this is going to work." She took out a piece of paper and wrote down all the songs on "Blues for the Red Sun." She was like, song one, "Thumb." And Josh said, "Well, I wrote the music." I said, "Yeah, but I wrote the second half of the music." And he's like, "I wrote the lyrics." I said, "Fine."

Literally within 15 minutes, it was already starting to do what I inherently knew would happen. This was unhealthy competition and that day I knew was the beginning of the end. All these great things were happening because of this record, but I was brokenhearted already. When it came time to begin the creative process for the next record, Josh started to distance himself. We didn't play guitars and jam and share riffs and create together anymore. He started to work with Scott Reeder, who was now our new bass player. I'm that rare guy that was driving from a creative standpoint but was also the drummer in the back holding the rhythm. How does the drummer convince a guitar player to play his song? So, what I lost was the creative process. I was like, "I built this thing and now I can't even do what I love? I'm essentially becoming your drummer? I don't want to do that!" That's why I left.

Do you remember Nirvana being your champion?

I remember playing the Offramp in Seattle and this dude coming up to me. It was Dave Grohl and I remember him saying, "God, you guys are awesome!" He specifically went out of his way to compliment my drumming and was specific about what he liked. I was like, 'Wow, the drummer of Nirvana!' All kinds of bands were showing us respect, but I left and didn't want to hear about it anymore. I was just too depressed, confused and angry. I finally moved back to the desert and started from scratch. The first thing I did was buy a book on the music business.

Your dad is a judge. Did you talk to him about these legal matters?

It's a sore subject to be talking about my father. I love my dad and I respect him. But my dad was very hard on me. I was adopted. So, we didn't have the kind of relationship where I could talk to him.

You've had with a lot of different bands since then. Have you found any as exciting as Kyuss?

The guys I'm playing with right now — Dave Dinsmore and Bubba Dupree (and new drummer Ryan Gut) — these guys represent a place where, if you hang in there and you play long enough, you can eventually find yourself with guys on those kind of levels. My new record is "Black Power Flower." It's a record that was fueled by this frustration and anger of being wrongfully accused. … This is where the story gets hard. I don't want to turn this into a … I'm a guy who has been … The lawsuit is just crazy. It was resolved in the fact that Josh and Scott filed a federal lawsuit against John and I. … I've been fighting people trying to (bleep) with me my whole life, dude. It is painful for me.

What does being selected to play Coachella mean to you?

Coachella is huge for me. It represents a victory. This is my victory. This is my year to stand up and be recognized.

Bruce Fessier is The Desert Sun's music and film reporter. He can be reached at Bruce.Fessier@DesertSun.com and on Twitter @BruceFessier



