Rig Rundown: Pucifer's Mat Mitchell
Rut busting and reconstructing has probably been happening since the discovery of fire and advent of the wheel. Guitarists confront it each time they pick up a new instrument to avoid predictable patterns and tones. Premier Guitar contributor (and recent Rig Rundown subject) Pete Thorn has addressed this by suggesting several practices to approach our beloved 6 strings in a fresh perspective. And recently John Bohlinger recommended playing a different instrument to fertilize musical crops. But what does a guitar-playing producer and multi-instrumentalist do to shake things up for his band’s fourth album? Well, for Puscifer’s Mat Mitchell and the band’s 2020 release, Existential Reckoning, you go back in time 40 years to 8-bit synth sounds and the archaic sampling lurking inside the proto-digital Fairlight CMI.
“Part of [the appeal],” Mitchell told PG in a 2021 interview, “is the flow—the way that you work when you’re using these tools. It forces you to do things differently. They are very limited, and being creative within very set boundaries is really good.” And being the creative force he is, Mitchell found gold in the antiquated sounds and tech.
“They sound very unique,” he explains. “Of course, you can sample one and put it in a laptop, but it’s different. All the voices are separate hardware. When you hit a note, it is bouncing around between [processor] cards, so you can hit a note five times and it may sound different all five times. There are all these little things that affect the way it sounds when you’re performing, which is a very different sound from what you get when you sample.”
But he would never tour with this digital dino, so how does Mitchell recreate 8-bit tones in a performance setting? Thankfully, moments ahead of the audience filling the pews of Nashville’s iconic Ryman Auditorium, Puscifer’s aural architect welcomed PG’s Chris Kies for a chat about how Existential Reckoning’s inspiration took him back to the future, and how his live rig has metamorphized and been miniaturized with contemporary gear to realistically represent those superannuated sounds.
Brought to you by D’Addario XPND Pedalboard.
Xcellent Axe
While recording Existential Reckoning, Mitchell relied heavily on a Steinberger GL2T. Not wanting to tour with it, he tapped Kiesel Guitars to build him a few custom Type-X models for the road. This bodacious beauty has a swamp ash body, a 3-piece walnut/maple neck with thru construction, an early version of Seymour Duncan’s first AlNiCo 2 Stack Tele pickup, and a fixed bridge. All his guitars take D’Addario EPN115 XL Pure Nickel strings (.011–.048). It’s worth noting the usual curvy contours and bevels found on a standard Kiesel Type-X were removed by request from Mitchell, who prefers hard-edged instruments like his prized Esquire. Another mentionable mod is the seemingly straight-ahead 3-way pickup selector (bridge, right?) that rolls the tone all the way off (middle) for when Mitchell grabs an EBow and a slight Q-notch filter (neck) for lead or chordal stuff that he wants tucked under. When it’s in the standard bridge position it bypasses the tone circuit. This wiring and tonewood collection are found on all three Type-Xs we’ll see.
X Marks the Spot
Here’s another Kiesel Type-X, but this one has a Seymour Duncan Antiquity Tele single-coil. Besides the radical visuals these instruments add to the band’s stage production, part of the choice was pragmatic because the lightweight, headless design allows Mat to swing the guitar off his shoulder in a split second and control the Waldorf Iridium synth engine for Existential Reckoning jams.
The X-Man
Above is Mitchell’s third Type-X Kiesel. He mentions in the Rundown that “once you give me a guitar, I don’t like to give it back,” so if he has it his way, he’ll start and finish the show with the same X.
Tidy Tones
“There’s a few reasons we shifted to the Axe-Fx III,” admits Mitchell. “First, we have enough songs that our rig was getting bigger, more complex, and it had more failure points. We also wanted a clean stage, so there’s no amps, no cabs, no pedalboards onstage, and that’s why on this run we’re now using wireless, too.” Most of his patches are based around either a Mesa/Boogie Mark II C+ (dirty) or Vibro-King (clean). The band enjoys free-range stage access with Shure Axient AD4Q units.
Lone Wolf
His only guitar-specific hardware outside the Axe-Fx III is this DigiTech FreqOut, to help Mitchell stir up a funnel of feedback.
Fear the Gear
Here’s the bulk of the gear used during the recording of Existential Reckoning and the corresponding Live at Arcosanti album, performed in the depths of the Arizona desert. Starting on the left is the Steinberger GL2T, then a pair of shots of the Fairlight CMI digital synthesizer, sampler and digital audio workstation. Below that is his Fender Custom Shop Esquire reissue and Mesa/Boogie Mark II C+, and the bottom row shows Mitchell’s choice stomps: ZVEX Fuzz Factory, Fulltone OCD, Electro-Harmonix Micro POG, Boss VB-2 Vibrato, Boss FZ-2 Hyper Fuzz, and Radial SGI. The lower-right shows a pair of Oto Machines (BOUM Warming Unit and BIM 12-Bit Delay).
Caroline Jones’ current go-to electric is a cherry beauty named “Ruby”—a Collings I-35 Deluxe.
Photo by Tyler Lord
“Ric lets me borrow his Esquire,” Jones says about using the instrument in the studio and sometimes at shows. “He is very sweet about it. What’s the point of having it sit at home on the wall? You want people to hear it. You want to play it. That’s what it’s for. I know it’s extremely valuable, but I just feel, what is the value if you can’t play it?”
Jones is a player, and from a young age she’s been on a quest to create the sounds and parts she hears in her head. That’s resulted in her learning multiple picking and slide techniques, tunings, and instruments. The Connecticut native spent time in the Gulf Coast where she collaborated with Jimmy Buffett and Zac Brown, but eventually she relocated to Nashville. In Music City, she has a rack of guitars to choose from in the studio, and she’s very picky, often choosing a specific guitar for just one melody, and then using another for an accompanying line or different part of the song.
Caroline Jones - Big Love (Fleetwood Mac Cover)
On her 2018 debut, Bare Feet, Jones played every instrument except bass and drums—and she spent weeks honing parts, layering rhythms, and doubling leads. But for her follow-up, Antipodes, which was released last November, she brought in a few Nashville pickers, like Danny Rader, Jason Roller, and Derek Wells, as well as special guests like Joe Bonamassa, Zac Brown, and Matthew Ramsey (Old Dominion). The initial sessions were recorded in Nashville, although most of the vocal and guitar overdubs were cut on the other side of the world in New Zealand (hence the name, “Antipodes,” which describes two locations on opposite sides of the earth), where Jones was living at the height of the pandemic.
Antipodes is an excellent showcase for Jones’ prodigious talent and versatility. The album features barnburners, like the twangy, chicken-picked single, “Come In (But Don’t Make Yourself Comfortable),” and also more subtle, acoustic fingerpicked songs like “No Daylight.” She also composed two songs on a New Zealand-built, Weissenborn-style lap steel: “So Many Skies,” which features Ramsey, and the earthy and bluesy, “Don’t Talk to Me Like I’m Tiffany,” featuring a somewhat restrained Bonamassa playing slide (as well as Jones on harmonica).
“Fingerpicking was the first thing that I ever learned on guitar, so it’s very natural to me. It’s probably the home of my style.”
“My now-husband wanted to get me a guitar in New Zealand to commemorate our time there,” Jones shares. “It was his idea to get the Weissenborn made by this Kiwi luthier named Paddy Burgin, and it’s beautiful. It’s made from this wood that he had sitting around for a long time. It’s really one of a kind.”
When Jones writes songs, she usually hears a version of the production in her mind that she wants to bring to life and evolve in the studio. A big part of that process also involves working with Nashville session players, who she says challenge her, and force her to up her game. “It’s extremely hard to get to that echelon of musicianship,” she says. “A lot of people don’t realize that only a few musicians are playing on almost all the Nashville records, and their level of musicianship is off the charts. For you to be comparing yourself to those people is, at times, disheartening. But I think you get a realistic picture of where the bar is for musicianship, which is something I always want to hold myself to, even though I’m very far off.”
The title of Caroline Jones’ sophomore album, Antipodes, refers to two places on opposite sides of the world. The initial sessions for the record were done in Nashville, but Jones recorded most of the vocal and guitar overdubs in New Zealand.
Not that she’s that far off. The cornerstone of her right-hand work is her exceptional, yet unorthodox, fingerpicking style. She wears plastic fingerpicks on three fingers, as well as a thumbpick, which is a technique she started on banjo. It’s a style that transferred easily over to acoustic guitar, and—with a little more effort—to electric guitar as well.
“I couldn’t get any sustain or ring from my fingers,” she says. “I don’t like having long nails. I feel really dirty—although a lot of my guitar heroes have long nails or fake nails—and I just don’t like that. The picks that I use, Alaska Piks, mimic the nail. They’re not steel like banjo picks. They’re plastic, and they’re just mimicking what a long nail would be. I wear it on my ring finger—as well as my index and middle fingers—which I know is not as traditional, but I do use that finger. Fingerpicking was the first thing that I ever learned on guitar, so it’s very natural to me. It’s probably the home of my style.”
Jones also prefers fingerpicks because they have more attack, which became more important as she got deeper into country music. She uses them for chicken picking, as well as when she’s going for a cleaner, indie-type sound. Although recently, after the death of flatpicking legend Tony Rice, she’s been doing a deep dive into his catalog and figuring out those techniques.
Caroline Jones’ Gear
Caroline Jones’ main acoustic guitar is “Sweet Annie,” a Collings OM1 that she pairs with her must-have Barbera Transducer Soloist saddle pickup. “I am an acoustic-pickup freak,” says Jones.
Photo by Tyler Lord
Guitars
- Collings OM1 named “Sweet Annie”
- Beard Custom Resoluxe electric named “Blaze”
- Burgin Guitars Custom Weissenborn-style
- Collings I-35 Deluxe named “Ruby”
- 1961 Fender Custom Esquire (sunburst) named “Tenny”
- 1963 Fender Stratocaster Hardtail (sunburst) named “Heaven”
- Gretsch G6120-HR Brian Setzer Hot Rod named “Loretta”
- 1947 Martin 0-18 named “Rosie”
- Martin 00-21 Kingston Trio named “Surfer Dude”
- Nechville Universal 5-String Banjo named “Starfish”
- 1958 Rickenbacker Model BD Lap Steel (1958)
- Taylor Custom GS 12-String named “Big Mama”
Strings, Picks, Slides & Capos
- D’Addario Nickel Bronze .012–.053 Regular Light Set, .013s for lower tunings (acoustic)
- Ernie Ball Super Slinky .009s or .010s (electric)
- D’Andrea custom CJ V-Resin flatpicks in Trans Aqua (equivalent shape/gauge as Fender 351 Medium)
- ProPik Metal-Plastic Thumbpick
- Alaska Pik plastic fingerpicks
- Scheerhorn Stainless Steel Bar Slide (for lap steel and resonator)Dunlop 212 Pyrex Glass Slide (electric)
- Dunlop 220 Chromed Steel Slide (electric)
- Kyser capos
Amps
- Fractal Audio Axe-Fx III
- 1964 Fender Bassman AA864 head
- 1980s Yamaha G100-210 II 100-watt 2x10
- Vox AC50CP2 50-watt 2x12
- Rivera Silent Sister 60-watt 1x12 Isolation Cabinet with two Celestion V30s
Effects
- Fishman Aura Jerry Douglas Signature Imaging Pedal
- EV-1 Volume/Expression
- Peterson StroboStomp HD Tuner
- Vertex Effects Boost
- Boss FV-500H
- Boss GE-7 Graphic Equalizer with XTS Mod
- Origin Effects Cali76 Compact Deluxe Compressor
- Xotic EP Booster
- Nobels ODR-1 Overdrive
- JHS Pedals Bonsai
- JHS Pedals Muffuletta 6-way Fuzz
- Klon KTR
- Electro-Harmonix POG2
- Electro-Harmonix Mod Rex Polyrhythmic Modulator
- Boss RT-20 Rotary Ensemble
- Eventide H9 Max Dark
- Strymon Mobius
- Strymon TimeLine
- Strymon BigSky
- Electro-Harmonix 1440 Stereo Looper
“Tony Rice is one of the godfathers of flatpicking,” she says. “I’m forcing myself now to learn more flatpicking because it’s a very different sound. Even if some of the patterns are very similar—or they might sound in the same family—they’re totally different skill sets.”
Jones also says there’s no shame in using a capo. It’s an important tool in her toolbox and enables her to access many guitaristic devices—like drones and harmonics—that don’t necessarily work in every key, especially when it’s in a key that sits better with her voice.
“I’ve been a capo snob in my life, as in, ‘I’m not going to use the capo, because that’s cheating,’” she says. “But then you see the best players on earth in Nashville, capo-ing up their acoustic guitars—because the open voicings just sound better. I’m like, ‘If they’re doing it, then I’m allowed, too.’ In the end, it’s music. It’s about what sounds good. It’s not about forcing yourself to do the hardest thing so you can prove you can do it. It’s about what’s going to serve the song, and sometimes that means capo-ing up, or forcing yourself to learn a different voicing without a capo, or using an open tuning. There’s a reason all the guitar songs are in D and E and C and G and A. Those are the voicings that are natural to guitar. Sometimes we get a little too in our heads as guitar players and forget that we’re trying to make it sound good.”
“There’s a reason all the guitar songs are in D and E and C and G and A. Those are the voicings that are natural to guitar. Sometimes we get a little too in our heads as guitar players and forget that we’re trying to make it sound good.”
Jones often tunes her guitars down a half-step to make it easier to play in keys that work with her voice, and a lot of her songs are in F and Eb. It’s something she’s discovered that the Zac Brown Band does as well. “Their baseline is Eb,” she says. “They tune all their instruments down a half-step, just because it’s better for Zac. All their songs are either in Eb or Db or Gb, for the most part.”
As choosy as Jones may be when it comes to gear, that’s not a luxury she has when playing live, although she makes the best of it. She’s outfitted her acoustic guitars with Barbera Transducer Systems pickups, which she feels is a must when performing primarily on acoustic—which she’ll be doing as a special guest with the Zac Brown Band for most of summer 2022.
“I am an acoustic-pickup freak,” she says, “because that’s all anyone hears. The sound of your guitar matters to a certain extent, but the pickup matters a whole lot more because if you don’t have a pickup that’s doing justice to the sound, even if you have the best acoustic guitar, who cares? We really did a lot of R&D and the Barbera pickups are the latest top-of-the-line for me.”
This borrowed 1961 Esquire (nicknamed “Tenny”) is meant to be played, says Jones. The guitar belongs to her producer, Ric Wake.
Photo by Tyler Lord
She’s been forced to become a minimalist with her amps and effects as well. In the studio, her go-tos are a Fender Bassman and a 1980s-era solid-state Yamaha G100 amp that shines for clean tones, as well as an army of programmable digital pedals and transparent overdrives and boosts. But live, everything, including her acoustics, are run through a digital modeler.
“Live, we usually just recreate those sounds in the Fractal Axe-Fx,” she says. “Especially when I’m singing. When you’re trying to sing and perform and be the frontman, your energy is too scattered—for me at least—to be able to be tweaking and making sounds at the same time that I’m trying to sing and play guitar and entertain people.”
But despite her success and mastery of many different instruments, styles, and techniques, Jones, at the end of the day, still sees herself as a student. “It sometimes takes me time to find the parts and the melodies that I really love,” she says. “It’s a lot of trial and error. I’ll go home and figure out parts, usually by myself. I’m definitely not in real time like those Nashville musicians. They’re trained to come up with incredible parts in real time, and so they’re very practiced at it. For me, a lot of times, I try a lot of parts that don’t work before I find one that does. Guitar parts, especially rhythm parts, do so much for a track, and it really takes me in one direction or another. That’s what fascinates me so much about production.”
YouTube It
Caroline Jones’ precise and unique fingerpicking is on fine display during this solo-acoustic performance for the Navy Exchange’s Founded on Freedom July 4th celebration in 2020. She breaks out the resonator on “Tough Guys,” just after the 20-minute mark.
The faces of Failure: Kellii Scott, Greg Edwards, Ken Andrews.
But getting here wasn’t smooth sailing. The blissful ignorance that Andrews and Edwards say brought Failure success in the ’90s is also what nearly destroyed them. “So much of what I did on guitar on that first album, I had no idea what I was doing,” says Andrews. “That brought something different to it.” Edwards agrees, adding, “We discovered as it went.”
While that approach opened the doors to creativity, it also brought frustration. “We knew when we were making Comfort that it wasn’t turning out the way we hoped,” Andrews relates. “Even on Magnified, there was this feeling of, ‘Dude, did we nail that? I’m not really sure.’ Case in point, the label actually wanted to release the demos for Magnified, as opposed to what we turned in as the finished thing. It was a struggle finding what our sound was until we took the reins for Fantastic Planet.”
Failure - Headstand - Music Video
Even on that self-produced album, which Edwards describes as “really spread out” and eclectic, the band was searching. He explains, “When I demoed the idea for ‘Blank’ or ‘The Nurse Who Loved Me,’ I remember thinking, ‘These can’t be Failure songs.’ But they became staple Failure songs!”
Things soon came undone, and in 1997, at the height of their career, Failure broke up. Instead of headlining shows with their crushing space riffs, the guys moved on to other bands and projects, which for Andrews included some A-list pop studio credits with Nine Inch Nails, Paramore, Andrew W.K., and Tenacious D. Though they were staying busy, the fans were left without until 2013, when Andrews, Edwards, and Scott announced their reunion.
Far from a ’90s nostalgia trip, Andrews says the band wanted their return to be more intentional: “When we rebooted, and once we realized that the Failure sound is unique to these brains, it became more of a consideration of, ‘If we’re going to make music together, what kind of music is it going to be?’” Their subsequent albums The Heart Is a Monster and In the Future Your Body Will Be the Furthest Thing from Your Mind proved as vital, creative, and driven as ever.
"Even if we hadn't done what we did in the '90s, I still feel like what we're doing now is cool." —Ken Andrews
Now, on Wild Type Droid, Failure sound like a robust and streamlined machine with a renewed focus, incorporating new tones alongside their signature mammoth riffs, cosmic themes, and dissonant harmonies. That’s due at least in part to a fresh and in-the-moment recording approach. “In the Future was written by forcing the songs into being,” says Edwards. “With this new process, we committed to going into a room together for a month and recording—four or five days a week, and five, six hours a day—everything we played. It was very organic.”
Hours upon hours of jamming and creatively searching for new ideas did take a toll. Andrews says that process informed the sound of the album, calling it “a conscious decision to enter this mode of only improvising and not putting on the songwriter hat. That was a unique decision that I think paid off because it gave us this huge well of material. You can’t recreate that in a songwriting workshop studio thing. It’s that intangible randomness that happens when you have three brains working at the same time.”
TIDBIT: The songs on Wild Type Droid were written in long, jam-style sessions—a first for the band. That approach, along with the addition of a baritone guitar and Bass VI, encouraged new ideas and sounds.
And while it lead to exhaustion in the studio, Edwards sees that as an asset and likens it to “Kubrick’s theory of doing way too many takes. You exhaust the actor, and after you go through all the terrible takes, all of a sudden, you transcended into another state of consciousness, and interesting stuff starts happening.”
With both guitarists playing equal shares of guitar and bass, how do the songs begin? It’s as simple as one of them picking up an instrument. “I would see an instrument that I hadn’t played yet, grab it, then start making noise,” said Edwards. “Kellii would start playing a beat, and then all of a sudden, we’d be into something.”
With that in mind, Andrews introduced two new pieces of gear, hoping they would be inspiring. He was right, and Edwards quickly took to one of them: a Danelectro baritone. “This was my first experience playing baritone,” he says. “And because it’s what I always do, a lot of my baritone parts are way up on the neck. It had a different quality than anything I’d heard from a guitar. ‘Long Division’ is a good example.”
Failure's Gear
Ken Andrews, seen here with a Les Paul, has accumulated top-level studio credits through the years, working with artists such as Nine Inch Nails and Tenacious D.
Photo by Debi Del Grande
Guitars
- Danelectro baritone
- Squier Bass VI
- 1976 Gibson Les Paul
- Gibson Explorer
- Fender Jazzmaster
- Vintage Gibson LG-1
Amps & Effects
- Fractal Audio Axe-Fx III
Strings & Picks
- Ernie Ball Power Slinky Bass (.040–.-95)
- Ernie Ball Baritone Slinky (.013–.072)
- Ernie Ball Burly Slinky (.008—.038)
- Dunlop Tortex .60 mm, .73 mm, .88 mm
Andrews’ other new addition was a Squier Bass VI. Failure has always placed bass front-and-center, driving their music with grinding tones and low-octave chords, so the Bass VI was an easy fit. “We’ve been playing chords on 4-string bass for a very long time,” says Andrews, “but I found that when I was playing the Bass VI it’s a different quality. You can hear it on ‘Submarines’ and ‘Long Division.’”
Although there are appearances by a Jazzmaster, a new Gibson Explorer, and Andrews’ 1976 Les Paul, the Danelectro and the Bass VI defined the album. Failure’s other secret weapon was their trusty Fractal Audio Axe-Fx IIIs. “We were using presets and scenes from previous songs, from previous albums, even ’90s songs. And I’ve been using the Fractal since 2014, so I’m quite familiar with the unit,” says Andrews. “If I had recorded a DI track during writing, I could completely reconstruct the sound, hearing it in context with the final vocals at the end. There were several songs where, literally, I was playing back DI bass and DI guitar while essentially mixing them on the Fractal.”
The refined sounds of Wild Type Droid’s woven tapestry of guitar and bass are a reminder that the Failure guitarists also geek out on production techniques. Reminiscing about the band’s early years, Andrews says, “I remember having long discussions [with Edwards] about production, more than individual riffs and parts. We were very aware of how impactful production can be on establishing an emotional mood that you get from listening to music. It became an obsession, in a way.”
“So much of what I did on guitar on that first album, I had no idea what I was doing. That brought something different to it.”—Ken Andrews
That obsession pays off throughout Wild Type Droid, helping the album sound meticulously crafted while never losing Failure’s raw, straightforward character. Songs like “Headstand” and “Bad Translation” take the best of Fantastic Planet’s power, dissonance, and pop sensibilities, and amplify them. Andrews and Edwards chalk that up to their creative connection, strengthened by decades of making music together.
“Everything was very much about listening to the other person and saying, ‘What can I play that’s not stepping on that?’” says Edwards. “That’s a product of an evolving sensibility within the band members over many years,” Andrews continues. “We’re looking now at the challenge of complementing things, as opposed to doubling and strengthening things.”
Failure’s albums sound better than ever, they still have a loyal fan base, and their new release is a musical success, but the 6-string duo are quick to mention how hard survival has been in the music industry. “In the ’90s, being signed was the biggest factor in what we were doing at any given time,” says Andrews. “And if you weren’t signed in the ’90s, you weren’t taken seriously,” chimes in Edwards.
In the studio working on Wild Type Droid, Greg Edwards lays down a track with a vintage Gibson LG-1.
Photo by Priscilla Scott
But Andrews points out that being on labels had its share of problems. “We were basically on their schedule,” he says. “We couldn’t release the record if they didn’t want to do it, we couldn’t tour, we couldn’t do anything. It was all about promoting our band within our own label to get them to pay attention and do stuff for us.”
Today, that business model is dead, and most record labels have all but given up on album sales as a major revenue stream. “It’s crazy when you think about how much it changed from 2005 to 2012, and then from 2012-ish to now,” says Edwards.
“It was a whole different thing,” agrees Andrews. “I remember when record companies started sniffing around our shows. I went to the bookstore and got Donald Passman’s book about the business of music [All You Need To Know About the Music Business]. In that book, the first thing he says is, ‘Do not try to force yourself into the public eye or into the music business. You have to be invited in,’ which sounds kind of crazy in 2022. What’s even left to invite you into?”
“It’s like Kubrick’s theory of doing way too many takes. You exhaust the actor and after you go through all the terrible takes all of a sudden you transcended into another state of consciousness, and interesting stuff starts happening.”—Greg Edwards
Today’s uneasy music industry is all about streaming services, and Spotify sits comfortably at the top. But they’ve seen a steady trickle of artists challenging their platform or, as Neil Young did very publicly, abandoning the service altogether. Recently, Failure announced their decision to do the same. Though the day’s politics played a role, the band said it was inevitable and a long time coming. And since most artists don’t make much from Spotify streams anyway, leaving the platform wasn’t a major financial setback.
“Spotify, in some sense, is the streaming arm of whatever you want to call the major-label world,” says Andrews. “But it’s completely flipped on its head. It’s all about aggregating the most content possible and paying the lowest possible for individual streams. If you really game it out, how does Spotify exist past another 10 years? Eventually, musicians won’t want to use a service that doesn’t give anything back to them. That’s what happened to us.”
Andrews says Failure is in a better place now than during their first go-round. “I’m enjoying the process way more than I did in the ’90s. Even if we hadn’t done what we did in the ’90s, I still feel like what we’re doing now is cool. Why would you stop doing something when you feel like you’re getting more appreciation for it? I feel like we’re this independent, little business that happens to be a band. And we’re surviving.”
Failure - Another Space Song (Live on KEXP)
Greg Edwards’ clear, chime-y arpeggios float over the mesmeric groove created by Ken Andrews’ growling bass line and Kellii Scott’s repetitive kit work in this 2015 version of “Another Space Song” from Fantastic Planet.