Bryan Dondero

Fading Americana: Brendan Canty and Wilco’s Ashes of American

Flags

Click Here For The Podcast Audio Version!

Bryan Dondero is the former bassist of Grace Potter & the Nocturnals‚ and current kick-ass fly fisherman/mediocre bowler.

It’s been seven years since I Am Trying to Break Your Heart came out. Since 2002‚ Wilco has gone through different incarnations of band members‚ put out a few albums‚ changed record labels and played hundreds of shows. A lot has gone down for the band from Chicago over those seven years‚ so to speak. But then again‚ a lot has gone down for all of us.
Ashes of American Flags‚ the newest film about Wilco‚ takes us once again behind the scenes for a look at what it is like‚ well‚ to be Wilco. This time though‚ instead of the grainy black and white in which Sam Jones captured them in 2002 (a synchronistic format for the times)‚ we see them in a vivid HD film that shows them in a different light. Ashes of American Flags was produced and directed by Brendan Canty and Christoph Green from Trixie DVD‚ who also brought us Sunken Treasure and put out the Burn to Shine film series that presents a variety of musicians (Eddie Vedder‚ Will Oldham‚ Bob Mould and Tortoise‚ to name a few) from different cities performing in a raw and conceptual situation that involves the demolition of abandoned houses (yes‚ for real).
Perhaps it is in this very conceptual light that Canty (former Fugazi drummer) and Green chose an approach to documenting the band’s 2008 tour. A tacit narrative seems to rise to the surface as the film takes us from venue to venue‚ and it becomes apparent that this film is not simply just about a band playing a few kick-ass live shows on a national tour. The venues they picked‚ many of which I have had the pleasure of playing myself‚ are musical landmarks. They are venues that are steeped in our American musical history‚ from Cain’s Ballroom in Tulsa‚ Oklahoma where Bob Willis used to stand onstage with his fiddle leading his band through a set of western swing‚ to Tipitina’s in New Orleans that proudly displays a portrait of Professor Longhair above the stage — whose song the venue was named after‚ to The 9:30 Club in D.C. that gave many early ’80s hardcore bands‚ as well as Fugazi‚ a chance to bring their music and their message to a fired-up and earnest group of young people.
The first dialogue of the film opens with a shot of band multi-instrumentalist‚ Pat Sansone‚ holding up a Polaroid picture he just took out back at Cain’s‚ saying that “Polaroid is discontinuing their film.” That poignant moment leaves us to decide whether the tribute to these historic venues across America is to be nostalgic…or elegiac. Whether the state of our own current musical economy will stand the test of time‚ or be flattened to make room for another Wal-Mart. Like Sansone’s photograph‚ this documentary is about our own fading americana.
I had the extreme pleasure of meeting (don’t say ex‚ they may still decide to tour someday!) Fugazi drummer gone filmmaker Brendan Canty a few months back after I played the 9:30 Club. He was very approachable and down to earth‚ helpful even. So when I was asked to review this documentary‚ I thought‚ “Why not try to talk to the director himself?” I contacted Brendan‚ and he was more than gracious in setting up the interview. What follows are excerpts from our conversation.

What got you into film?
Well‚ it was about trying to physically document something that’s important‚ and music is such a central thing. And so many of people involved come and go‚ and you have these moments that should be kept like journals. They should be documented or else it just fades away. I can’t change anything that already happened or that is going to happen — but one of the ways I can do my part for the preservation of this music is to document it.
Basically that’s the concept for me in terms of making these films‚ just trying to document‚ trying to press play and record because we can. Because technology enables us to document these bands‚ we’ll always record them. We have the ability to record the audio on these bands‚ and that’s fabulous‚ but I really think the live component of capturing and dissecting the moment in time for me is really like… I get a huge kick out of it. And it’s just like taking a good live picture‚ or hearing a good live record. It’s all of these things if the band can deliver in that environment. If the band brings it to the stage into a live environment‚ and if you can capture it and put a bunch of cameras on it and dissect and deliver it to people in a way that keeps it exciting and doesn’t just totally deflate it [laughter]‚ then I think you should do it‚ you know?
That’s sort of where I’m coming from with it. And Wilco is just one of those bands that I really love. I love the musicianship of the band‚ I love the songwriting‚ and I love what a great family they are right now.
Yeah‚ you get that sense from the documentary‚ especially with that scene where you had each member describe another member…
Yeah.
I thought that was brilliant because it really showed the understanding and the compassion that they have for one another.
Right.
It made me laugh because I kept saying‚ “God‚ this is so real.” It’s kind of a realist view of a band. This is how it is. And the scenes where you’re showing Nels [Cline] on the couch with a bag of ice underneath his neck and he’s describing that he’s head-banged one too many times in his life. [laughs] And he’s talking about how he needs to take care of his body in order to play the music that he does. I thought that was great because it’s kind of this anti-rock hero thing‚ you know? They’re not backstage with all these groupies and girls and drugs; they’re practicing and putting ice on their wounds. [laughs]
Yeah. I think‚ in a way it’s sort of a post-rehab film. [laughter] But Wilco is at that place — they’re grownups‚ you know? And they have found the right orchestra for the music; they’ve found the right equation. And they’re happy to present it‚ they’re happy to show it off. I think if it were somebody else‚ if it was another band where the singer was a junkie‚ and so and so is fucking up…

Yeah‚ and how many times has that story been told? I was having a conversation with my friend the other day where I was like‚ “That story’s been told a gazillion times.”
I know.
But this is a different story. I love it.
It’s functional. I really have the feeling that‚ if you’re gonna make a movie about music‚ the music has to represent for itself. The music has to be the end of it. At the show‚ you have to make me believe that what you’re watching is worth watching‚ and what you’re listening is worth listening to. You cannot talk your way out of it if what you’re seeing on screen and the performances are not there. And so that’s the main thing. That’s the main thesis behind this movie — that Wilco is the greatest live band in the world. And we think it because this and this and this‚ and we don’t need to talk about it; we can just show it.
[laughs] Exactly.
That’s what we felt like we were after. And I mean not that the things we showed are necessarily the greatest performances in the entire world‚ but they are in a way‚ you know? You do get what these guys are doing. You get that they listen to each other‚ and you get that they actually work with each other‚ not against each other. You do get the supplemented egos that allow for this kind of grandeur. In any great band‚ somebody’s gotta shut up‚ while the other guys play. You can’t just all be up there hammering away. Dynamics are everything‚ and to me that needs to be shown with Wilco. I can’t stress enough the importance; I feel the importance of this particular band. And the fact that they’re writing for this band right now is hugely important for me.
The first dialogue we get after watching the performance is Pat [Sansone] and he’s in the back lot of the Cain’s Ballroom. I’ve played there‚ and I love that little silver bullet trailer that’s in the background there. He’s showing the Polaroids and he’s saying‚ “Polaroid discontinued their film.” And that idea of a fading Americana‚ I got that connection with it‚ and I think that’s the power of their music and everything from the venues they’re playing — they’re not playing huge stadiums; they’re playing Tipitina’s and Cain’s…
Right. Having said that‚ they booked that tour with us in mind to film in these venues‚ because they’re the ideal places for the film. We had a few pow-wows about it‚ and it was like… well‚ Christoph [Green] and I‚ we love architecture‚ we love music‚ and we love‚ you know‚ from the Burn to Shine series that we did‚ we even like to highlight‚ even not these fabulous houses‚ but just document the changing face of our society of American architecture and life. And so we were trying to do something that on a purely structural level in the movie‚ and that allows you to do something other than look at a band the whole time. In my head‚ I have this visualization that the band is like its own threatened city‚ you know? Like that has a history‚ and it’s a village with old houses‚ but it’s always being challenged‚ There’s always some sort of giant turmoil going on in the middle of that village. In my head‚ that’s Wilco.
Yeah. That’s perfect because that quote John [Stirratt] was saying about these bombed-out downtowns‚ and that you can’t walk to Wal-Mart. [laughs]
All those things‚ they worked for me as a metaphor for the band. All those things about America.
It does follow some sort of historical thread of music. I’m not saying they follow a historical thread of music but‚ you know‚ they do. [laughs] I guess I am saying that you listen to the music and their songs‚ and [Tweedy] does a lot to tie himself to the past — historical music in the past and traditional American music. But at the same time‚ the dichotomy is that we also know what Wilco sounds like‚ and Wilco does not by any systemization always sound like that. And to me‚ to show him thinking about it so heavily‚ or to at least understand that he does think about it as a viewer‚ it contextualizes music in a different way‚ and it makes you think differently about what you’re watching. And that’s really the thing‚ you really only have a few minutes between songs to inform the way you watch them.
They’re kind of like these little haikus. [laughs]
Yeah‚ because you don’t want to make a super didactic film that’s like “and then we were raised in this town‚” you know? That’s all fine — we have a certain amount of that stuff in there — but it has to relate to the film‚ and it has to relate to the sort of underlying theme of the film.
Well‚ it’s such a cool continuation since I Am Trying to Break Your Heart‚ to see how far the band has come and to see how… I don’t know what you want to call it. Maturing is not the right word — more like realization of themselves. It’s really interesting to watch how that story has been evolving. Because there’s a huge gap between that Wilco and Wilco now‚ and to see how much has come from that. And that made me think about this idea… music history. We’ve been talking about that a lot tonight‚ it’s this unfolding story of the fading Americana. We go from this early folk music‚ and then historically music goes through the ’40s‚ ’50s‚ ’60s. The era in the ’60s when music becomes more political‚ but there’s hypocrisy in some of the things that happen with that whole movement‚ which lead to the movement that you were a big part of in the ’80s‚ and also there’s a rebellion against the ’80s “me generation” kind of bullshit‚ you know? And then it brings us to Wilco…
But I do think Wilco reaches past all of that stuff in a way. I mean they try‚ you know? And ultimately I think they’ve spent a lot of time creating their independence from everybody‚ and they’ve achieved it through pure artistry. There’s nothing marketable about this band. [laughter]
Yeah. And it’s probably more of a blessing than a curse‚ you know?
Exactly.
Maybe the longevity of their career‚ even in their lifetime is different‚ but the longevity of how music history will judge them‚ I think that’s a different thing entirely.
Yeah. I really appreciate you saying that it’s a journey from the Sam Jones film to this film because I definitely… I mean‚ we were really setting up for it to be a totally different thing. And honestly‚ the idea of filming a band while they’re in the hot house or the recording studio is really… I would never do that and expect anything to come out at least usable‚ because people are miserable in the recording studio a lot of times. I had eight hours of Fugazi recording — a couple days just with audio‚ then instruments — that Ian MacKaye just dug up and gave to me‚ and it’s really intense. I’m freakin’ out‚ we’re kind of miserable‚ and‚ it’s a lot of work‚ you know?

It is‚ yeah.
There’s a lot of subtext in there that’s kind of snarky and bitchy‚ you know? And so it’s the same thing with I’m Trying to Break Your Heart. It’s like people are making decisions in the studio… at the end of the day‚ everybody’s got the record and you know how the song’s going to turn out because you’ve heard the record‚ but when you’re in the middle of it‚ you don’t have any idea how it’s going to turn out. So all the ideas‚ all the pressure is on your shoulders where you have to make these crazy decisions all the time‚ especially in a pretty crucial stage.
[laughs] Yeah‚ where you don’t have the luxury of editing.
Yeah. It’s not like‚ “Oh yeah‚ let’s mix five hundred versions‚” or something. [laughter] It’s not like I’m gonna do that. So you make decisions on the fly and those decisions require just an insane amount of objectivity‚ which just doesn’t exist‚ not as much as it should on this video. So‚ I look at that band‚ I look at that film and I look at the band we’re dealing with and I think‚ “Poor guys had to deal with having cameras around them.”
[laughs] Right. On top of all the other bullshit‚ they’ve got a camera in their face.
And then the other thing I look at with that record [Yankee Hotel Foxtrot] is that you can feel the record industry in pain. I guess it was before they were really hurting‚ but my God you have to feel sorry for those people‚ if they can’t sell a friggin’ Wilco record‚ you know?
Right. [laughter] And it’s weird what it became. The one thing that stuck out from that documentary was this idea where Wilco became the barometer of what record labels were willing to tolerate‚ and in a twist of fate‚ that record ended up gaining a lot of notoriety and a lot of critical acclaim as being one of the greatest records that came out in the last whatever years. And that’s interesting to me because you would think maybe that would have some rub-off on the music industry‚ but I’m not so sure that’s the case. I don’t know. It’s almost as if the record industry has started battening down the hatches even more.
Well‚ there’s just no money out there any more. And that’s the thing — these labels are really contracting‚ and people aren’t working there anymore. When you have something that loses every worker in the workforce from year to year the way it’s happening‚ when they’re firing so many people and people are moving on and moving in‚ it’s a different company entirely than it was before. And these people that we talked to‚ they just don’t have any money to work with‚ and they’re scared. They don’t know what’s coming next‚ and they don’t know where they’re gonna work next. It’s really hardcore‚ man. I think that in a way‚ I would think that Wilco hasn’t sold millions of records. I mean‚ their records don’t sell a million records. Maybe the labels feel like they did the right thing. And it was an interesting enough film. I liked that film a lot. But I feel that it was… you know‚ he was there at the right time with Tony [Margherita]‚ their manager‚ and was very open about what was going on.
I love the scene that they captured serendipitously‚ the moment that they were getting dropped.
Yeah.
That was pretty cool‚ Sam and whoever was filming happened to be right there in the same room with Tony as he was getting the phone call from the label. And he said‚ “You need to hear it from me‚ the best thing is for Wilco to be off of the record label.” That’s such a great moment.
Yeah. Tony’s got their back‚ man. [laughter] They’re his real only client‚ and he works like a motherfucker for them. He works so hard for that band.
Well‚ the film is fantastic. I look forward to watching it over and over again and delving into it more and more. It’s so cool what you’re going for‚ this whole… I just kept writing this idea of fading Americana. I like that idea. That’s kind of what I’m seeing in this.
Yeah. Well‚ that’s what I see on a daily basis — that things are changing. And it’s not so much that… maybe it’s presentable‚ maybe it’s not‚ but it definitely feels like we all have the ability to look at it‚ to realize what’s happening and to document it as well as we can.
Yeah‚ a responsibility.
Yeah. If you feel the impulse to do it‚ there’s your responsibility‚ you know? And if you don’t feel it‚ don’t do it. Everybody has other missions to accomplish in their lives‚ but this is just the thing where‚ shit‚ you know‚ we’ve got these great cameras‚ and we had to capture it.

The DVD release of Ashes of American Flags is on Record Store Day‚ the annual celebration of music and the independently owned record store‚ which takes place Saturday April 18th. Stop by your local store and show it you love it.