Doug Scharin, Codeine, and The White Birch interview

Doug Scharin is One of my favorite Drummers from one of my favorite Bands and participated in the creation of my
Favorite album of all time
"Codeine...The White Birch"

It is everything I look for in a work of High Art...Beautiful, Brutal, Honest and extremely unique groundbreaking and dynamically entrancing...I often refer to it as the "Gloomy Sunday/Berlin of our time...Doug is a kind and thoughtful gentleman who allowed me to interview him a few months back...My foray into Rock Journalism is on hold for now... But I've been sitting on this for awhile..It is still slated for publication in a larger venue...But I thought I'd give my FaceBook/Goodread friends a sneek peek.....

DAVID: Where were you born? What made you decide to spend your life in the Arts? Do you remember the first album you bought? Your first Drum?


DOUG: They tell me I was born in Hartford, Connecticut. I don't remember that event, but I do know that I grew up around suburban West Hartford.
It's possible that the first record I bought was a K.C. and the Sunshine Band record when I was about 10. Around the same time I remember listening to my brothers 8-track of Herbie Hancock's Thrust.
I remember thinking that it was the first music that made sense to me and the sound of that record has had lasting effects.
In '76-77, when I was 11 or 12 I'd draw pictures of rock bands with friends or my brother. We drew Zeppelin or Kiss or Aerosmith most of the time. I remember that I did always like drawing the drums. Extra care taken to get the toms to look just right!
My moms partner was/is a drummer and at that time was playing in NYC with a group called Son.
That group rehearsed in our basement for a couple of weeks in preparation for a small tour they had set up. It was an exciting time. Those dudes were freaks in the best way possible. I'd get home as quickly as I could from school, sit on the stairs to the basement watching and listening. The bassist has this uncanny knack of always knowing if you were watching him play. He'd shoot a really quick glance in your direction if you were. The guitarist would get pissed off if we made too much noise while he was trying to write. The bass player taught me a little about perspective when I was trying to draw Peter Criss. He also would get us to come down to the basement to play music with him.
I hadn't ever really played drums and this too was the first time I ever played an electric bass. I didn't know what to do with it and it felt like I was being electrocuted every time I touched it.
The bass player was Bill Laswell. I saw him once more, briefly, maybe a year or so later playing at Trinity College in Hartford which very well might have been the Zoo band with Daevid Allen.
7 or 8 years later I stumbled across 'Basslines', Laswell's first solo recording, in a Boston record shop. A new world was revealed at that moment. There's nine other musicians on that record. A few, like Ronald Shannon Jackson, Fred Frith, Martin Bisi and Philip Wilson would, in the subsequent years, have huge influence on my way of approaching music.

Later in high school I was into Zeppelin, but was a bit of a Who fanatic. (Probably more than a bit.)
In my last year of high school a friend's older brother introduced us to a load of records he'd brought home from New York City.
Records like the first Clash, Elvis Costello, Ramones, Talking Heads, Sex Pistols, Pretenders records were already 5 plus years old for me, however, it was all fresh. Cable TV along with MTV was new to us.
There was this sort of endless flow of information to absorb that offered an interpretation exciting and far out of my suburban environment.
I suppose these were the first moments where I began to feel a pull towards the Arts.
I bought an electric guitar. Couldn't do anything with it that I considered musical. Frustrated, I turned to the drum kit my brother had left behind when he split from home. I wasn't so good, but because of being left handed with a kit set up for a righty, I naturally played an inverted rhythm where my left foot played the down beat on hi-hat and the kick drum was on the up. I still can remember what I played and I remember the feel of it.
I looked for other musicians to play with and was quickly encouraged to get into a band.
By the end of 1983, after spending the summer in a small Italian village south of Naples, It was clear that travel needed to play a big part in my life. If I could get into a band situation I knew it was possible.
I took the next step by moving to Boston at 19 which at the time had a thriving music scene.
Before moving, I acquired a drivers license with an altered birth date so I could get myself into clubs. I went out to 2 or 3 clubs seven nights a week.
Maybe a half a year later I was in my first band called The Boll Weevils playing around the Boston area. We were headlining for our 3rd show on a Monday or Tuesday night at the Green St. in Jamaica Plain with the Pixies opening up for us. It was their 2nd show. I didn't see any point of playing after they were through.
There were also countless record shops where I spent the majority of my time and savings. Thankfully, not before I bought my first drum kit. A 1984 Premier Resonator kit. It's still my only full drum kit.

DAVID: When I Opened for Codeine at CB´s, I just sat right on the stage behind you...Watching every preconception of what I aspired to be as a drummer completely change...The Bands Slow tempos gave you the means to really dig into this mad primal minimalism...that I haven´t heard anything like since...but your work made me get off the top heavy Keith Moon wannabe thing..I decided a note was a beautiful thing...why waste it? Was this a natural style for you? Or was it at times more to accomodate Codeine´s bleak landscapes?



DOUG: Of course the music certainly dictated the style and given the opportunity to play it, I needed to accommodate accordingly. Early on, being self taught, I had little resources outside of feel. That first time I sat down, with intent, on my brother's kit, I just felt something in the groove. It was a connection… you know?
I think that has always remained with me. It needs to feel.
I wasn't so much unfamiliar with slow tempos, It was more a matter of the restraint required for the songs to be most effective. It had to swing free of ghost notes.
Before moving to New York and joining Codeine, I was living in Portland, Maine playing with a band that would later become Rex. We wrote songs at relatively slow tempos. (We got slower after Curtis Harvey and I went down to Boston to see Codeine's first show.)
Musically, with Codeine, I knew what I was getting into and I knew that I could play it.


DAVID Let´s talk about "The White Birch" Such a profound and groundbreaking work...Thankfully no suicides have been attributed to it, But I truly believe it´s our generation´s "Gloomy Sunday"...How did you get the gig? Was it true the band couldn´t find a drummer to play slow enough? Where was it recorded? What was the mood like During the sessions? How do you maintain such meticulous tempos?...Did you guys joke around at all...? I´m fascinated...


DOUG:
The making of the record was complicated well before I was ever in the band. I believe it was the second try at making The White Birch. I wasn't yet in the band for the initial attempt which resulted in the e.p. Barely Real.
The band was looking for someone to replace Josh Madell from Antietam. He was filling in after Chris Brokaw left to play guitar with Come full time.
I called Chris, who I met through Curtis Harvey. He gave me a number for John Engle who was living in Hoboken. I had left Portland and was living Brooklyn by this time.
I woke John up at 1:00 in the afternoon with a call asking for an audition. I auditioned once or twice but didn't get the job. They chose a drummer from Richmond, Va. who they hadn't played with before. It was a gamble.
Unfortunately, he wasn't quite up to it. The kid took off in the middle of the night leaving them a note saying something about missing his mom and his cat. (fair enough)The band found themselves away from New York, in Louisville, with a tour and recording session booked, but without a drummer.
Stephen called and asked me to come there for a month of rehearsals.
I put my things in storage and left Brooklyn driving the 10-11 hours overnight. Listening to nothing but the records and demos, I used the time to learn every arrangement and get inside of the songs.
In Louisville, we rehearsed for 5-6 hours a day, 6 days a week. We might have played some shows on our way to Chicago's Idful studios where we were booked to record the 5 or 6 basic tracks we had ready for the record.
The studio, in a corner of a Damen ave strip mall was relatively new and unassuming. They had a 16 track tape deck. can't remember if it was a 1" or 2" machine at the time. in any case, the machine shit the bed on us not long after we had set up. Can't recall how it all transpired. We might have been listening back or trying to record the first track. There was an issue with the machines transport or playback head. Anyway, it was spent and our frustrated producer along with the guys who ran the studio went on a mad scramble around Chicago looking for a replacement.
I played basketball across the street in Wicker Park. It took 2 or 3 days to sort out a machine to record on. We had to settle, much to the dissatisfaction of all, on 3 ADAT machines. It's a testament to how good the Idful live room sounded and Mike McMackin that those basics sound so good.
I really loved playing in that room and eventually would make 2 other records there. The session at Idful would produce about half of the basic tracks for the White Birch. From there we played our way back to NYC where I found myself homeless. I did some couch surfing and stayed for some nights outside on the fire escape of John and his girlfriends studio apartment.
We were then asked to tour as support for the Flaming Lips. That was a three week tour which was almost immediately followed by a month in support of Mazzy Star. It was over this period, mostly at sound checks, that the remaining songs for The White Birch were written, rehearsed and arranged.
After the tours a studio was located near New Haven, Ct., where Steve was living, called 3 communications. It was convenient, location-wise, and was an ADAT studio. The contrast to Idful couldn't have been more immediate. Dropped ceilings in a room that most likely once served as a windowless office selling cheap insurance.
The drums sounded like hell in there and I remember struggling with the tracking. There was a feeling that if the session hadn't produced suitable basics, then the record might never happen. The vocals we completed along with the mix at Mike McMackin's apartment in Park Slope. Over the course of this period, I remember the atmosphere was usually pretty tense. It's easy to vent frustrations on the new guy, so I did my best to keep my distance and focus on doing my job. I think it was a really difficult period for Steve. I think he put a mountain of expectations on himself.
I don't remember him smiling very often until we were almost done mixing the record. We stood outside on the steps of McMackin's flat and Steve was loose and seemingly happy. He looked different in that light. He told me he was really pleased with the end result.


DAVID: You´ve been involved with an impressive array of artists from Rex to june of 44, HiM and far beyond... was there a particular high point?



DOUG: Without a doubt, the 90's were a great time to be involved in the indie rock scene. There were so many bands, some of them quite good. lot's of them with good people involved. It was exciting. I was on tour or working on recordings year round. There was a broad network to support a band. CD's were fairly new. You could make a humble living. I was doing exactly what I wanted to do. playing a lot of music and traveling. As far as particular recordings are concerned, the making of Rex 'C' in Chicago at Idful still remains my favorite recording

DAVID: You´ve been really brave and outspoken about your political leanings...Where do you see the world in 50 years?... What do we have to do to give the next generation a snowball´s chance in hell?

DOUG: Idiocracy. have you seen Idiocracy? I just don't think it's going to take until 2525 for people to start watering their lawns with gatorade or for someone out of professional wrestling to become president. I mean, that's funny shit. but in truth, it's not funny at all.
The religion of money truly is the root of all evil…. don't you think?
How can we as a people have this form of capitalism and still be wanting more children?
What's left? A society is so massively disconnected from the very world that we were created out of that we can no longer survive in it?
espousing democracy all the while shitting on it's principles and still be saying "one nation under God"?
Who's God? Give me a fucking break.
Hypocrites and parasites.
I have kids of my own and so I fight to keep the optimism alive. I owe it to them. But it's increasingly difficult.
I'm not angry.


DAVID: You always seemed like a heavy spiritual cat to me...Do you have any thoughts on those matters? You´ve managed to stay really young looking...I can´t help but think you are doing something healthy..any meditation, yoga.. any particular spiritual path ?...It seems to me your work comes partially from somewhere else...not of this earth...


DOUG: I don't know where my work comes from other than the desire and determination to make it. It's a continuous process. Once I feel something is complete or close enough to put a rough mix down, I'll look through the hard drives for something new or take a riff and build on it. If it holds my attention for long enough and I feel it has potential, then I'll see where it takes me.
It's essential to allow for the music to lead.
If you let it, it will.
Music IS spiritual. It's the only spiritually tangible, non thing that I don't know.
As far as looking young. I try to balance a healthy mix of diet, exercise and intoxicating substances. Or maybe I've just been lucky.


DAVID: What are your current projects? is HiM still active?


DOUG: It's not inactive. but I'm continuously working on music. I have a record coming out in November under my name.
A first.
It's called 'Kate No Longer'.
OFF record label out of Brussels will be doing a limited amount of cd's as well as a digital release.

DAVID: You´ve always resisted the slowcore / sadcore tags... It´s impossible to catagorize your lifes work but...Are you comfortable with "Post Rock"? .Or any of the genres that were associated with that era of music history..


DOUG: I'd like it to be categorized as nice folks music. you could go to that section of the record store (do those still exist?) and other nice folks would be there listing to records. no assholes would go over there. you could listen to all kinds of interesting music and nobody would bother you. you might even find something unexpected that you really like.

DAVID: For me "The White Birch" was the perfect blend of Beauty and Sadness...I think a lot of people felt the same...Is there a relationship in your mind? Can we have beauty or joy in our lives without sadness and suffering?


DOUG: If we did, we wouldn't know what we had.
There has to be a contrast or conflicting elements. light and dark. Sound and silence, ebony and ivory man!
there's conflict in Codeine music on a number of levels. In music, it's the space that make the notes that are played matter.
There is a lot of space in that music.


DAVID: Any final thoughts, words of wisdom? Sure do appreciate your time and insight, Thanks so much Doug...So grateful....

DOUG: Find your way with all your heart and stay true to it. in other words, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Thank You David. Hope we can meet up soon.....