Jason Simon on Dead Meadow, Steve Kille, and the End of an Era

Transmission 083: Interview with Dead Meadow

Dead Meadow formed in Washington, D.C., in 1998, born from a conscious rejection of the city’s post-punk orthodoxy. Guitarist and vocalist Jason Simon and bassist Steve Kille grew up inside the D.C. scene, absorbing the DIY ethics of Fugazi and Rites of Spring, then turned their backs on its angular rigidity in favour of slow, heavy jams soaked in wah pedal and echo. With drummer Mark Laughlin, they built a sound closer to Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin than anything their peers were producing; at the time, Simon recalls, it felt like the most punk thing they could do.

Over more than two decades, the band navigated label moves, lineup changes, and a cross-country relocation to Los Angeles, releasing a body of work that runs from the blown-out basement recordings of their debut to the more polished textures of Old Growth. They signed to Matador Records, later launched their own imprint Xemu Records, and kept touring relentlessly, building their following the slow way.

Steve Kille, a founding member and the band’s bassist for its entire existence, passed away on April 18, 2024, after a prolonged illness. Jason Simon, who had served as his primary caregiver in his final months, completed their last recorded album alone.

Dead Meadow‘s official Bandcamp,

Can you describe the influence of D.C.’s punk scene on Dead Meadow’s early sound, and how you differentiated yourselves from that scene?

Steve Kille and I both grew up in D.C. and were very much influenced by the scene. Bands like Fugazi, Circus Lupus, The Nation of Ulysses, Shudder to Think, and the Rites of Spring (though they were definitely before our time). By 1998, however, we had become tired of the angular and dissonant post-punk sound as well as a certain insular and clique-ish attitude that seemed to permeate much of the scene. We wanted to do something different. The copious amounts of marijuana and psychedelics we were taking also set us somewhat apart from most of the scene, which (though not militant at all) still maintained somewhat of a straight edge vibe. We got more into Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin, Sleep, and Jimi Hendrix and strived to sound more like a band of that era. At the time, the most “punk” thing we could do, we felt, was to play long ten-minute slow heavy jams full of guitar solos, wah pedals, and echo. We actually recruited drummer Mark Laughlin partly by explaining our idea to freak out the post-punk musicians by sounding like a more stoned out Black Sabbath. So I guess to answer your question, our early sound was a conscious effort to sound nothing at all like the D.C. scene. However, nowadays when I hear the first LP, I can hear all sorts of things that remind me of the D.C. scene, things we picked up from Fugazi and other bands of the area. Another way the D.C. scene influenced us greatly and still does today, is the extreme DIY attitude that existed there. The D.C. scene was fiercely DIY and from the start, we handled almost everything we could ourselves.

How did the transition from The Impossible Five and Colour to Dead Meadow come about?

Impossible 5 was us very much trying to be a part of the D.C. scene and the punk sound of the late 1990s. We wanted to be a part of that world and still mostly listened to punk and post-punk bands. We did smoke a lot of weed and I feel that led us to more and more music outside of that scene. When I5 ended, Steve and I wanted to do something that felt more moody and cosmic, something more expansive that felt more escapist and more a celebration of imagination. Colour was an attempt to move in that direction but we did not have our musical vocabulary in place so to speak. I knew the feelings and moods I wanted to occupy and share with our music but the form that would best do that was not there yet. At the time, Steve, myself, and Cory Shane (who joined the band on the Feathers record) all lived together. Cory had a huge collection of Jimi Hendrix videos and we all slowly gravitated back to the classic bands that we loved as early teenagers. At the time, there was a post-punk scene and a metal scene and nothing in between. We wanted to play music like Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath in our own way that didn’t feel metal. It seemed so fresh and pure to do so. Three-piece guitar, bass, drums all locking in to the same riff. No one we knew was sounding like that and it felt exciting. It was a form in which we could express so many of the ideas we wanted to get out there.

Can you describe the recording process for your debut album ‘Dead Meadow’ and how it set the foundation for your sound?

All the earlier recordings myself and Steve had been a part of (especially the Impossible 5 record) seemed to come out differently than the way the band sounded. Somehow the sound would so often become too polished or would become something other than what the band wanted. Only later did we have the technical studio expertise to really guide how things sounded in any particular studio. Back then it was far too common for some studio engineer that had no idea where the band was coming from or what they wanted, to really clean up the recording and try to make it into what they thought was “pro” and “radio-ready.” We did not want any of that with Dead Meadow. I knew this recording had to be as raw as possible. I didn’t care if it was all blown out or crazy in some other way as long as it was raw and captured us playing live and at our most comfortable. That is another thing I absolutely wanted to avoid. I did not want to be on the clock or have a time limit. I did not want to feel like we had to settle for an inferior take because time was short or if we couldn’t get a song, we had to just keep playing and playing it to get it down until all the feeling is gone. That is something I still feel today. I will always choose to record and work somewhere where we are not paying by the day or hour. That is so unconducive for any kind of art. At least for me, it is. So we tracked and recorded the whole thing in my parent’s basement in the room we practiced in. It was all done live except for vocals and a few added guitar overdubs. A good friend Shelby Cinca recorded it on 8-track ADAT with next to no outboard gear. I think he had one EQ and a Joe Meek compressor. That was it.

How did you feel when John Peel asked you to record a Peel Session, and what was the process like?

We were incredibly stoked and excited. The legendary John Peel! It was very early in the band’s career and we had no plans to go to England. We had not even been across the USA yet. Somehow it was set that we would record the show for him on the 8-track machine set up in Fugazi’s practice studio. So unfortunately, we never met him though he acted like we were right there in the studio during the broadcast. Actually, it was the first time in the history of John Peel’s show that they had a band record elsewhere for it.

How did your approach change when recording ‘Shivering King and Others’ compared to your earlier albums?

The approach didn’t really change. The drummer did. Stephen McCarty had just joined the band shortly before we started recording that record. We had yet to become a really tight live band in the way we had been with Mark and the way we were soon after this record with Stephen McCarty. Because of that, I thought it would be cool to make a much washier sea of sound type record, a record somewhere between Black Sabbath and Spacemen 3. Another part of why that record is often quite far-out sounding is because we used all the advance to buy recording gear. We had never recorded on our own before and had very little idea what we were doing. I think that made the record very interesting and unique sounding for what it’s worth. Some songs I think still sound great to me on that record. Other songs tempt me to open the sessions and remix.

How did signing with Matador Records change the trajectory of your career?

I really don’t know. It’s just the way things went and I really don’t know any other way than that. It didn’t catapult us to indie rock stardom if that is what you are asking. It helped us reach a wider audience but this band has really grown slowly and organically in terms of fans. We put in a ton of hard work touring and playing countless shows as well as doing at least 10 records now. It was a labor of love, of course, but it was also quite grueling at times. I think the length of our career and our perseverance in our original ideas are what have gained this band its following and fans.

What prompted the band’s move from Washington, D.C., to Los Angeles, and how did it affect your music?

We met a lot of like-minded bands in Los Angeles and had much more fun hanging out there with them than we did in D.C. Also, at a certain point, D.C. became much too expensive for what it was. When that happened, many artists and musicians decided they might as well go to NYC if D.C. is just as expensive and the small scene that was there sort of dwindled to next to nothing for many years. It’s also so much easier to exist as a musician here in LA than in D.C., which is really a city of almost entirely bureaucrats that have very little appreciation for the arts. The one thing I miss is the feeling I had in D.C. that any type of creative artistic endeavor there almost felt like a rebellious act. There was more of a sense of purpose and a feeling that by creating art of any kind you were engaging in some sort of struggle against the overwhelming and stifling bureaucracy all around us.

What was the creative vision behind ‘Old Growth,’ and how did recording in different locations affect the album’s sound?

We didn’t consciously change anything in our sound for it. We were back to a three-piece, so that changed things since Feathers. Matador really wanted a certain kind of record from us and agreed to the third record with the stipulation that we have a proper producer handle the mixing. That was the main difference with that record. We tracked vocals and mixed at Sunset Sound in LA and had Dave Schiffman handle the mixing. I think Matador was pleased with it more than the others, at least at the time. For me, it’s the record I listen to the least. I guess everything sounds “correct” in the mixes but it’s lacking the weirdness or the balls or something that other records had in my opinion. It’s just not as interesting to me and I feel certain aspects and ideas that I had intended to push forward were not as present.

Can you talk about the challenges and rewards of self-releasing your music through your own label, Xemu Records?

After Matador, it was the only logical choice. Unless another label of that size was going to offer us significant money, we were going to retain all ownership of masters and publishing. It’s so important to keep that in this modern world of free streaming. The downside is a label often has more resources available in terms of press etc., but by keeping things DIY we have been able to earn a much larger share of what is sold or paid to us at shows. That has allowed us to survive and to continue making music. Xemu did “The Nothing They Need” back in 2019, but since then it has been other labels releasing the newer records actually. That has been nice as well. In the future, since Steve’s passing away, I will be doing more of the reissues on my own label Tekeli-li. I did the Peel Session release in the past and I just released a new reissue of the first LP. I have “Howls from the Hills” in the works for the near future.

What are some of your favorite psychedelic and stoner rock albums, and how have they influenced your music?

Well, back in the day, all the classic Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin records were stoner essentials to the band. I think the only record that could be called Stoner Rock in terms of what I think you mean by the genre that I ever really owned or listened to would be Sleep’s “Jerusalem.” My essential Stoner albums these days are “East of the River Nile” by Augustus Pablo, and “Playing it Cool” by Keith Hudson. I’m a big JJ Cale fan and “5,” “Troubador,” and “Okie” are great stoner albums to me. So is “After the Goldrush” by Neil Young. “Easter Everywhere” by The Thirteenth Floor Elevators is a perennial favorite psychedelic album as is “Parachute” by The Pretty Things.

Can you discuss any upcoming projects or collaborations?

Well, since Steve passed away in April I really have not made a decision as to whether I will continue to play and perform as Dead Meadow. This year has been quite hard with Steve so sick. Other than his girlfriend, I was pretty much the main caregiver and was up in the mountains where he lived 2 or 3 times a week at least. It was really tough seeing him so sick and getting worse and worse. We had tracked a new LP late last year but he was really too sick to help much with the mixing by the time we were attempting that in February. I’ve finally finished the record and there will be announcements about the record soon. It was really tough finishing it without him as this band has really been a partnership between Steve and I for the entirety of its existence. I’m so happy to have something else to share but I miss him a lot. I do want to thank everyone once again for the incredible outpouring of love for Steve online. I always knew how unique and creative he was as a musician and artist and I’m very glad so many out there recognized that as well. As for Dead Meadow, I’m just gonna see how things feel, take it day by day at the moment, and not make any decision yet as to whether the band will continue in some different format or if it will feel best to end now and start an entirely new chapter of life.

Photos courtesy of Dead Meadow

Matteo Damiani

Matteo Damiani is an Italian photographer and author. Curator of the sites Retrofuturista.com; weirditaly.com; china-underground.com and others