Before their show at Peter's Room, Blaine Cartwright, lead singer of Nashville Pussy, sat down with us for a brief interview about Europe, Nashville, bitches versus pussies, and James Brown. Cartwright was cheery, coherent, and either stoned or very sleepy, because, rather adorably, his eyes were shut the entire time - that is, until our photographer, Rodrigo, chimed in with some interesting facts about Bowling Green, Kentucky.
melophobe: Do you need some time with your coffee first to help you get through this?
BC: No, no I got everything I need right here. Thank you. [Empties several sugar packets into a large cup of coffee.]
melophobe: Nashville Pussy formed in 1996?
BC: ’96 is about right, yeah. And we put out our first album in 1998.
melophobe: How have things changed in the past twelve years? Are you guys trying to stick to your original sound?
BC: Wow. I don’t know, man. A lot of the clubs we used to play at are gone. And the rock and roll club culture is not as big as it was. We kinda came along at the right time for playing clubs every night, and going around making a living at it. I don’t know. Things haven’t gotten any better. Not as far as the scene goes. We basically are doing the same thing we’ve always done. Just try to be as good as possible, and just play. I know that sounds really corny, but that’s what we do. It’s been a long road full of ups and down just like anything else.
melophobe: What city do you think still has a great scene?
BC: The cities that have a great scene are the ones that had a great scene to begin with. Like Portland, Seattle, Minneapolis, Austin.
melophobe: Oh, Austin. That place always wins when it comes to music. You guys seem to be fond of Texas.
BC: Yeah, at times. [Laughs.] They got real strict drug laws there though. You can go to jail if they find a joint on you, they more than likely will search your van. Stuff like that. I do like the food and everything else is great. There’s nothing quite like it.
melophobe: Nashville Pussy just put out an album in 2009. Are you planning on another one?
BC: Well, we’ve put out five in the last twelve years. The first three we put out kinda fast and the last one took a long time. Yeah, we’re always gonna record. Just trying to figure out whether to be on a label or do it ourselves. You know, all this kind of shit is changing right now. I’m real apprehensive about writing a bunch of great songs and doing something like having a label own it, when a year later we find out we could have done it without 'em. I don’t know right now. Everything’s changing so fast. I don’t know which bandwagon to jump on. We’re pretty much able to have access to a studio, produce, write, record, master, deliver it ourselves, get the artwork done, and get the things pressed. It’s just a matter of getting them in the stores. It’s the last little hump we have to get over before we can do our own stuff.
melophobe: What label are you guys on now?
BC: We’re on SPV. They’re a really big label in Europe, and they try to be a big label here. I guess our record was a failed experiment at that. They went bankrupt as soon as they got going, as soon as our record came out. It was awful. But they’re really big in Europe, so we do really well there. You know, a lot of people here didn’t even know the record was out. It’s the same old shit; we seem to have companies that are on the verge of going bankrupt. And our record seems to come out at the same time. So that’s what’s happened over the last few years. The record label owns the record, so it kinda sinks with the ship. We’re like, ah fuck, there goes our record, you know?
melophobe: Well, it seems like you have a large following in Europe. That's good, right?
BC: Yeah, we do. It’s like a big cult instead of the small cult like we have here.
melophobe: I know you have had trouble with your name and getting press because of the name. Are they a bit more liberal about that over there?
BC: Yeah, we get on television over there! It’s not even an issue. We’ve been on a lot of TV in France in the middle of the afternoon. We play big festivals there, we played to 50,000 people in France last year. It was just amazing. Because they’re not scared of the name. Here we wouldn’t have a chance because it would be corporate sponsored or someone would want to make a big profit. Over in Europe they get money from the government to put this stuff on. Here, if they have the words Nashville Pussy, suddenly these posters, which we’ve made thousands of, can’t be hung up. And all the other 30 bands are screwed because they have our name in it, too. You know one person will complain about it and they’re down.
melophobe: Has anyone ever censored your name?
BC: Yeah, they use asterisks. We were in Boise, Idaho and I saw that, and was like, man, this day in age? I didn't think the name would be that big of an obstacle to get over when we first started.
melophobe: Really?
BC: Yeah, it’s weird. 'Cuz you can say, like, bitch, which is way worse. Kids probably say that. In hip-hop culture you can say bitch. But you still can’t say pussy.
melophobe: Well, a lot of bands lately have “fuck” in their name and they’re running into issues, too.
BC: See, I would have never named a band “fuck.” Pussy, though. I mean, I thought, no big deal. I thought at least, you know, we did it in ’96, and thought well, is this name gonna hold us back? And I was like, man, in three or four years, you can say pussy everywhere. Uh. I was totally wrong. Totally wrong.
melophobe: Was it the same in Nashville?
BC: No, actually Nashville is pretty cool as far as putting our name up. They just don’t have a lot of cool people that come to our shows. We lived there while we formed the band, and we liked the place, but we got outta there pretty fast. We live in Atlanta, Georgia now.
melophobe: So, you’re playing some strange cities in this tour, like Modesto and Bend.
BC: Yeah, sometimes those places are kinda fun. They’re rough this time because the economy is so shitty that these small towns, if there’s not a lot of people at the shows, we just kinda bite it. But I like playing small shows. I’m from a small town in Kentucky so I like them. You come in and kinda take over the place. Everyone knows about the show, the Pussy posters are up, everyone’s talking about it, you know. It’s really cool. I like that, 'cuz I lived in a small town until I moved to Atlanta. It’s great because you wait for the shows, you get drunk with your friends beforehand, party after. It’s nice, you can affect the culture more.
melophobe: Do you write the songs or is it pretty collaborative?
BC: Yeah, I write most of them. The newest album is a lot more collaborative. We also have a producer who throws stuff in, but I write all the lyrics. The first four albums I wrote every song except for like three or four. For this last album I was like, I need some help, I don’t want to write all the fucking songs this time. You know, when I first started I wrote them all myself because I was the best at it, and now it’s been like goddamn thirteen years. Surely to God some melody has gone through your head, you are professional musicians now! I basically have to take my wife, the guitar player, and my drummer and just lock them in the studio, get some dinner, get some beer, set them up, and let them go. They’ll come up with like five songs in an hour. They’ll just start jamming as I’m walking down the hall. So we just leave the tape running. We accidentally wrote some songs a few times.
melophobe: You just have to quarantine them, huh?
BC: Yeah. The guitar player’s mom said I have to set parameters for Ruyter and kick her in the ass. Same thing with the drummer. I mean they would never even pick up their instruments. They don’t just sit around and play. We all just have to get together and start talking about arrangements.
melophobe: Does the same person do all your album art?
BC: For the last two a guy named Stain [Ed. - we can't confirm the name]. Seriously, the album art has gotten better, but if you took a picture of us it would be the same people, but really we’re just older, shorter, and fatter. Our new albums are better than the first ones, but just looking at it I would take the younger skinnier versions. So, we try to make ourselves larger than life with cartoons. 'Cuz you can tell it’s us, but we’re like superhuman. It frustrates the girls sometimes, especially our bass player, 'cuz she looks really fucking good, and she has been drawn on the last couple albums and I think she wants to have an actual photograph of herself.
melophobe: Are you playing a lot of songs from your new album on this tour?
BC: Yeah, we’re playing about seven of them. Which is good. In Europe we’re used to playing with, sometimes, like nine other bands and we don’t end up going on until really late. They start the shows at regular time and it’s a big clusterfuck and they make everyone play, like, thirty minutes. So our friends will come out to see us at like 8pm, and leave after a few bands play, figuring they’ll just catch us another time. They’re probably right. We tour a lot.
melophobe: So you like touring?
BC: Uh, the house doesn’t pay for itself, man. I gotta do it at a practical level where we have to book and have everything planned out. It’s great. I don’t know how else to make any money. I’m not about to get a job.
melophobe: You don’t get a lot of money from album sales, huh?
BC: I’ve never gotten a check from a record company. It’s the most lopsided shit, 'cuz you get such a small percentage of the sales, and all the bills they accrue are to promote you, and it’s your responsibility to pay it back.
melophobe: So tours are a really good source of money for you.
BC: Yeah. Touring’s really rough right now. But if someone will pay you, then you can go out on the road, but it’s really rough. I think it’ll bounce back. But yeah, you just jump in the van and go play, sell your t-shirts, stay at someone’s house if you can. But we get four hotel rooms a night, which is good. You know, we have to get away from each other a little bit.
melophobe: So more about fun stuff. Do you have any favorite bands right now? Like, new bands.
BC: God, you’re asking the wrong person. I listen to mostly old stuff. I don’t know what’s going on.
melophobe: OK, so what old stuff do you like?
BC: Believe it or not, we listen to mostly funk and soul music from the late sixties to mid-seventies. Like Funkadelic and George Clinton. My hero is James Brown. The Temptations, Sly and the Family Stone. I’ll play a lot of that in the van. I don’t listen to heavy metal outside of Motorhead. I don’t really like metal.
melophobe: Oh, that’s interesting. Because, uh, you guys are pegged as a metal-punk or speed-metal band.
BC: Nashville Pussy would be the farthest out there band I’d listen to. It pushes it for me. But I’ve always wanted to play hard and fast. I’ve always felt bad if anyone played harder and faster than me. So I want to play as hard and fast as possible and still keep the rock and roll shit that I grew up with. But, yeah, we listen to the Allman Brothers a lot and Dave Edmands, Shirley Ellis. I met James Brown when I was in high school. I got his autograph. I was only sevemteem. The only white boy at the show. Me and my three friends. It was great. I saw him like a month later in a smaller town in Greensboro and I was in the front and he recognized me. He’s like, “Hey, it’s you again.” He has always been a big influence. My great aunt and uncle used to have a record store in Henderson, Kentucky. They opened it in 1960, and I was born in ’64, so I kind of grew up there looking at records and just being mesmerized by music. But a lot of the stuff that came out back then was early garage stuff, like The Kinks, The Stones. I didn’t like what kids liked when I was a kid. But kids like crap. Just give em anything, they’ll eat it up.
melophobe: You tend to have an older crowd at your shows.
BC: Well, there’s always a bar at the venues. If we play an all-ages show there’s a handful of lucky kids who get to see us, and everyone else, they want to drink. I don’t even want to go to a show that doesn’t serve alcohol. You gotta have a beer or that shit just don’t make sense. Otherwise you’re there just studying it, or just, I don’t know. You gotta have a beer or two. Makes things wash down a little better. Makes the whole show seem right. Either you’re dancing or you gotta have something to hold, you know. It’s always a white guy’s excuse for not knowing how to dance. You say, "yeah, I’m holding my beer. I’m not gonna dance."
melophobe: Well, I’ll let you go, but I want to show you this mixtape a friend made me in 1998 and you guys are on there, and this is why I know who you are. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here. I saw that you were touring, and I really wanted to check out your show.
BC: Wow, we’re all over the place. Some dude made it for you?
melophobe: Yeah, a friend from Illinois made it for me. We used to trade mixtapes back and forth through the mail.
BC: Wow, I’m glad they put so much effort into it. Really cool.
Rodrigo: I didn’t know you were from Kentucky. I’m from Bowling Green.
BC: I’m from Bowling Green.
Rodrigo: You’re from Bowling Green?
BC: I was born there.
Rodrigo: Really?
BC: Yeah, there’s so many cool people from there. I went to college at Western for a year and my parents graduated from there. And my other band, Nine Pound Hammer used to be in Lexington, Kentucky. We were there from about ’85 – ’92. Yeah, that’s the way to do it. Start your band in a small town, get enough money to go on the road, then get the hell out of there.