Our journalist Lachlan caught up with frontman of the renowned garage rock outfit Osees (Thee Oh Sees). Their conversation covers following punk methods while growing older, the importance of Bandcamp for the future of music streaming, Iggy Pop's ability to kick the shit out of John's dad, and Holiday Inn loyalty points.
John Dwyer possesses a neatly cluttered knowledge of music – its impact, its history,
its world – bundled amongst the know-how of and certain partiality for the average music artist. So, surrounded by a neat cluttering of myriad books, records, plants, Killer Klowns from Outer Space masks, and ceramic smiley faces, the renowned frontman of Osees/any and all other names his band can be known by and I sat down to discuss one of the most consistent and eclectic garage rock bands in history and their outlook on music today.
First asking how best John can describe Osees to someone completely unaware of
the band, his best recommendation is that the live shows speak for themselves. The group’s music is geared towards performance. The abundance of material, however daunting for new people trying to dive in, showcases the eras of the band, while maintaining the common thread of its character throughout. According to John, the band is “basically a conglomeration of all the things that I’ve always loved, which was like psych rock, prog rock, jazz, and long form stuff – improv. Maybe a hint of country back in the day. As of lately, it’s been leaning more punk, I guess. But, I mean, come to the live show, or talk to a fan, because I’m sure they’ll bore you to death about it. Nobody can tell you about my band like somebody who likes my band. Probably much better than I could. And thank God for that, otherwise I’d be painting houses still.”
Now with Osees understood loosely in character, the formation of the band and start of
their catalogue’s compilation created new responsibilities as musicians towards fans, the industry, and the music being made. These responsibilities have changed greatly when comparing then to now. Since the band has got bigger over the years and grown more of a platform for people to hear them, John’s attitude rests in being able to show the band to have opinions they rest on.
“Early on it was mostly about drugs and good times but there wasn’t much of a
message to that stuff. These days, I would mainly provoke anyone who likes our band to make art themselves. I feel that’s what I chose in life, regardless of it just being music, but to be creative. Because the way things are pointed right now in the world, I feel we’re getting groomed to be generational consumers, which we are essentially already. But even worse so. And less creative.”
These attitudes are emphasised through the band continuing, for example, the aesthetic
of booking the clubs where they knows people. Where the first person to book them in Austin, Texas is the same person that books them all of these years later, because they stick with it. It’s all about the underground. “I remember the days there were punk books. Like, pack your own life and get in a van. Explaining how you could tour on your own. Pre-internet of course, now I discover bands all the time through Bandcamp when we’re looking for openers for places. I’ll comb Bandcamp and hit up people to ask what’s big in their town and send any links.”
Yet change in how the band has been able to communicate these opinions is not the
only thing that has impacted on Osees significantly. “We’re adults now, the world is much more fucked up than it used to be. Or at least more obviously fucked up. It’s apparent, everyone can see it. Everyone has a camera now and can access everything at all times. It’s a very complicated time. We’re just fortunate to make music and make it as a living.” In addition to this, since covid resulted in the band having to take two years off from performing live and hanging out with friends, family, and fans, Osees has been given a new appreciation for touring and being able to communicate the band’s ideas.
Continuing this notion of responsibility to emulating and carrying on certain musical
traditions and styles, I asked how John how, as Osees has grown, he has seen such a responsibility reflected on the band’s process.
“I mean I love turning people onto old music. It’s funny because early on, I would be
trying to rip off these old bands, for lack of a better phrase. I was so inept in my abilities that it would end up being my own thing and completely unrecognisable doing this. It’s also great to turn people onto stuff because music, like any other art form, is an endless dive. Everybody reacts differently to it. It’s something you can take over and over and over again and yet get something from almost nothing. For me, when a song is written, other than performing it, it is dead stock. Right, the work went into writing and recording it and then it’s out there to be used ad nauseum, for free. I’d rather people have it for free than nothing at all.”
This responsibility is further evident in ensuring you end up doing things yourself. “I was
told back in the day that slow and steady wins the race and I was never in any rush for success or anything like that. I’m perfectly content where I am right now and if I had to go back to work in a job tomorrow, I’d be good and I think that’s the aesthetic: that I came from a very blue-collar family and always had a job. So, this is a blessing for me that I can make music and, you know, I own all of our rights. We haven’t sold any of our music to anybody. Nobody owns us. So, we’ve done it ourselves. I feel that’s a great path to follow, but it’s certainly more work. Every now and then I do a record with another label and I realise how much fucking easier it is to have someone else out it out for you. So that is the trade-off: if someone owns your music perhaps, they ship it off to movies and commercials or whatever. But you have to be tenacious and studious and work to run your own thing.”
“The music industry for so long was so archaic with these terrible models set up for
ownership by labels and perpetuity in the known Universe is horseshit. So people are starting to accommodate that more, I think. The punk aesthetic was to own your own music because maybe, out of necessity, no one wanted to buy it back in the day. I’ve always kept a similar aesthetic, the older I get, even if we’ve had some level of success before, nothing much has changed. We take three extra people on the road and that’s it: two merch people and a sound person, because that makes our jobs a little easier. A very small crew. We take a van; we don’t take a tour bus. We stay in fucking Holiday Inns. Because we’ve been staying in Holiday Inns for so long, we’re like royalty. I’ve got status on their card.
“But yeah, we’ve kept it very simple. That’s the point. And musically we try and keep
it interesting because, to me, with a lot of musicians that I’ve liked, you always hear the phrase “I like their earlier stuff the best,” which is a twot thing to say for a music nerd, but it’s fucking true. A lot of people tend to get a little flat as they proceed or they get comfortable and complicit. So it’s always been my M.O. to keep it interesting and ramp it up when necessary or take a left turn. We’ve been very fortunate that our fans will follow us there. Even so, every now and then someone will be like “I don’t like the new record” and I’ll just say “alright, fuck off.””
With there being little static about Osees, be it their constant evolution and change of
stylistic focus, members, or name, we next discussed how having fewer or no restraints with respect to just having one static music project and a variety within and outside of the band has impacted on John.
Shaking these restraints is important to each member of the band, with each having
their own projects and being able to create outside of Osees.
For John, “it’s just that this is my high: to enjoy making music. For me, collaboration and
playing with new people is how I started playing before having a band. I’d see someone whom I like the way they played and be like “hey, do you want to jam?” because that’s the way I learned to play music. I didn’t really take proper lessons. I took a handful of lessons when I was sixteen but when I was nineteen or twenty, I actually started dipping in more. But kind of late honestly. Everyone works at a different pace; everyone has a different amount of time for different projects. I have all the time in the world because I’m lucky enough to not have a regular job anymore and I have a disgusting work ethic. It’s a bit psychotic. I’m a little bit addicted to working, but at the same time I really enjoy it. I don’t find it being detrimental to my health or personal relationships that much. If anything, I think I’m becoming a bit better at it, being realistic with myself. But my bandmates are the same way: some of them DJ, some of them have their own bands. We’re only here for a short time, so it’s better to create and make something beautiful if you can. Or something fun or poignant, I don’t know. Or something very morose and depressing, why not?”
Yet if John had had just one style and project to follow, he would have been fucking
bored, that’s for sure. “My father always said if you’re bored, that’s your fault. So I took that to heart as well and kept myself from being bored for all these years. I’ve also seen bands who do what I’ve been talking about. There are three perfect examples of artists who performed and kept a torch burning that always come to mind. Scott Walker is a great example of someone who went on to make some very odd and niche music. He didn’t give a fuck, his music just got weirder and weirder. If anything he started out as being famous for being handsome and dashing and being in the Walker Brothers, then ended up making dark and mysterious shit that is so cool to me. Same thing with Michael Yonkers. Even bands like the Stooges. You see the Stooges live now and think “Fuck, Iggy Pop just gave everything he had on stage.” I’m not saying that about their new records, mind you, but live, that dude does not act old. I think he’s probably older than my father and I’m pretty sure he could kick the shit out of my dad, so it’s impressive to me. I think you’re only as old as you act. People like Eugene Chadbourne, all these jazz musicians. I got to see Ornette Coleman back in the day and I saw him very late in his life. It was probably ten years ago and, to me, seeing him in that room was like seeing him in the sixties. It was incredible.”
Breaking away from the organised chaos of the industry Osees has been immersed in,
the approach they take of exploring very fantasy-based contexts in projects, to function as respite from and reflect real-world issues and the band’s attitudes towards them, became an interesting point of reference.
“I mean the last record was very literal, I think. That’s the thing about punk. There are a
million punk bands out there who are off kilter, rudimentary, void, buy always punk had a finger on the pulse and very evocative and immediate. These things are present life. I think it’s impossible to not have that stuff. A couple of years ago I said, “if you’re writing love songs right now, fuck you.” Which is a ridiculous thing to say because who doesn’t love a love song? But it’s true. It’s impossible not to have that stuff in your music. And I think fantasy, role playing, sci-fi, and reading fiction as a kid was always access to another lens of the world. Because it wasn’t literal of the news or anything, but it was still very poignant, especially with the fact that all that sci-fi shit is coming true now. Everyone has all of your information; people give it away for free now. People are addicted to approval and recognition and attention with social media. It’s impossible to ignore, so it has to find a way into your writing. I love a literal song, of course. But I also always loved one open to interpretation. Being able to get really stoned as a kid and read the lyrics, trying to warp my head about it.” The fantasy bases of Osees’s music thus inevitably become an escape but also a way for people to think about things as well and make inlets into new areas of conversation.
Allowing fans to be able to receive this ability has come through trial and error. For John
as an artist and individual, the experience of a life in music has allowed fine tuning of such processes and the ability to change his mindset to benefit himself and his music.
“That’s what it’s all about, trying to grow a little bit. For me, it became about surrounding
yourself with good people. Humans are tough but, and it might be pessimistic, it takes effort to become a good person. Even if they’re not musicians or people that you love, surrounding yourself with good people who give you respect is important because it’s a fucking minefield out there. One thing I’ve certainly done as I’ve gotten older is, I think there’s an old Louis C. K. bit that in your forties you don’t make new friends because you’ve had enough friends. But as a man who is almost fifty now, when I make a new friend it’s amazing. You meet people all the time because of peripherals and associations, but it’s very different with true friendship. I still have friends from when I was a kid. They are irreplaceable. Life can be a real trial, so it’s good to have a good support system around you. Otherwise, definitely less drugs these days, you have to moderate a little bit, and drinking too. I’ve all but quit smoking, which was one of the last things to go, which is unfortunate because I love smoking. But the older you get, the worse it makes you feel. It’s not worth it. It doesn’t even get you high, it’s not lie having a stiff drink. But trying to keep yourself healthy so that you can do things. Because touring is not everybody. It’s a lot of work, it’s uncomfortable. You’re tired – sleeping in a different bed every night which doesn’t sound that bad – when I was a kid I slept on floors. There’s something that happens when you’re changing up your sleep habits or eating habits every day that you have to be resilient stock to put up with that shit. You have to eat like a billy goat sometimes. In middle America – and I’m sure it’s the same in Scotland too – you find yourself in the middle of nowhere saying “nothing to eat here but old haggis, I guess.” After years of touring it’s inevitable that you either end up dead or not playing music, and I’m always shocked when musicians stop making music. So when that happens every now and then and I think “you’re done?” I’m going to die on stage. I can’t imagine stopping unless I absolutely had to.”
Understanding music as vocationally as this, John’s strange wisdom covers the
progression of the music industry and how it will have to change for the future:
“I mean there are a lot of things that are unavoidable now and there’s no reason to fight
them. I kind of put up a stink about streaming platforms, not publicly as I’m not a big airer of dirty laundry. I mean they certainly don’t pay enough. I can’t stand Taylor Swift’s music but I completely agree with her on a lot of these topics. The fact is, it’s already too big and the wheels are already turning, so it’s one of those ‘can’t beat them, join them’ scenarios. So, we’re on Spotify and all that shit. It’s very tricky. Things are changing very quickly.
“I’m glad vinyl has made a comeback. I’m not opposed to digital music but I don’t like
streaming because I don’t like being reliant on Wi-Fi or anything. I actually have two hot-rodded iPods with like two-hundred days of music on them that I still bring with me because I refuse to have to be reliant on my phone or be bombarded with fucking commercials. But with that being said, there’s also the good side of it in that exposure is now through the fucking roof. It’s an interesting fucking time. I have no idea what’s coming next. I would have never anticipated where we are now. You know, I’m not so much of a forward thinker that I would think of the internet. I think it’s interesting to see how much good it has done and how much awful shit it has done and them it has completely changed the world very quickly. I can’t imagine being a ninety-year-old right now. Or a child. Like a ninety-year-old saying “what the fuck is going on?” because their life has been this slow crawl and suddenly, as you get closer to death someone is pushing on the gas pedal. We’re right on the fulcrum of everything changing right now. I think the point I’m trying to make is that it’s better to go with the flow than fight it.
“But yeah, with the music I mean again like I said the record companies maybe are
being a bit more accommodating in things like ownership – or they’re going to have to be because artists won’t put up with that for long. This is why I have my own label, because when everything is fucked up it would either be my fault or the fault of someone who is directly involved with the label. So I’ll know who to blame. But if someone was big enough to afford to put out their own records and even get distribution, I’d never understand why they wouldn’t. You get to keep all the money. You get to hire the people who do the jobs labels are doing – like distribution, like placement, like publishing. This is what we’ve done and I mean it’s more work and some people don’t want to be as involved and be able to just write songs.”
Whether these artists, labels, and others involved in music neglect some especially important responsibilities in John’s eyes, some that could make a positive difference if maintained, pursued the thread of streaming’s responsibilities further.
“It’s funny with a lot of these tech companies because I was in San Francisco right when
they sold the city to all the tech companies right out from everybody and now it sucks there because everyone left and even the tech people don’t like this city, the utopia they’ve created. The precedent that was set with the way streaming works is terrible and there was never a discussion about it. Even if people have tried to do shit like Tidal but you know the way things are with monopolies: when something is established, that’s it. Until the government comes in and says that’s it. There’s a lot of things that could work better for artists. I think people need to band together but good luck with that these days, I suppose. I really love Bandcamp; I think they’re great. You can listen to a record a few times for free and then you can buy it. And I think that’s a great system. As far as streaming goes, this is the least offensive to me for some reason. Even with their layout. It’s like a Myspace where you can have your own little thing there. It’s kind of the opposite of what you asked but they’re doing it right, and I would like to see more sites go in that direction. Streaming is tricky though because people’s attention spans are so short that I would even see the likes of Spotify saying, “people aren’t even listening to whole songs, why the fuck should we pay you?” People are just wanting to hear seventeen seconds of a pop song and that’s a problem in itself. I’m not like a wizard with this shit; I just know the problems, not how to solve them.”
Wrapping up the interview, how it would look if the Osees’s entire legacy could
accomplish anything stumped John for the first time in the conversation. “I’m so concerned with the here and now. I don’t know – something that is important about older music to me is that there is some that transcends a dated quality – even if the Beatles sound fucking old, they still sound fucking great – or like Can will always have been ahead of their time. I was listening to a podcast about Bach and Beethoven and Debussy and it was talking about the stain power of this music. No one expects their music to be that because that’s unheard of. With things like Nirvana, I’m like fuck this wouldn’t have happened during what I consider to be the worst decade for music – the 90s. Nothing against Nirvana but when I hear it it just reminds me of a bad time and doesn’t seem to transcend time, to be applicable at any time. To have a little bit of a classic quality is expecting a lot because I’m most interested in the underground stuff and that’s what’s most likely not to be around in twenty years. That could be us, so if we could surpass that fate, it would be nice. I’m hoping that death is just a cold, dark sleep.”