1990-03 Record Mirror
< Archived Interviews & Articles
They Might Be Massive
By Iestyn George, Record Mirror, March 1990
Archived from: https://www.flickr.com/photos/tabloidfootprints/35612507711/in/album-72157685943248135
"It's all gravy as far as we're concerned," says John Linnell, one half of New York duo They Might Be Giants.
Pardon?
"Well, we've got so far in such a short time. Two years ago we were sleeping on people's floors as we toured around the country. And then we got signed up by WEA. Even when 'Birdhouse In Your Soul' came out we had no idea what people were going to make of it."
But what about the gravy?
"It's like we've had the aperitif, the main course is looking good, and 'Birdhouse...' is the gravy, which is on the way to make things perfect."
They Might Be Giants have come a long way since they charmed a small but devoted following with an eponymous LP on Rough Trade. Their follow-up, 'Lincoln', was received ecstatically on both sides of the Atlantic, establishing them as the chief exponents of 'alternative' music in their native America. Live performances at London's Institute Of The Contemporary Arts and numerous TV airings of their magical 'Don't Let's Start' video won the hearts of many with their quirky musical style and madcap visual antics.
Linnell and bespectacled partner John Flansburgh, contemplate their new stature with a combination of enthusiasm and disbelief. "To be honest, I'm a bit scared," says Flansburgh. "Imagine having to compete with Michael Bolton. He is soooo bad - the original beer commercial voice. Can you imagine being a multi-millionaire from voice-overs and still wanting hit singles. Yet another nail in the coffin of rock music."
We discuss sandwiches. "Britain is the only country where you can serve tartar sauce with cucumber and call it a sandwich," observes Flansburgh.
"Granted, you guys read books and all that kind of stuff," adds Linnell, "and we may well be illiterate, brash Americans, but let's get serious here. We know how to make a decent roast beef on rye!"
Sandwiches apart, They Might Be Giants seem quite fond of Britain. Musically speaking, they see our charts as an artistic haven compared to the middle of the road pap that is the staple diet of millions in the US.
"Britain is much more progressive," says Flansburgh. "It's really hard to break into the mainstream in America. If you're considered to be 'alternative', that's all you're ever going to be. You can make a living without ever denting the charts, whereas in Britain the independent scene acts as a stepping stone to further success."
British responses to recent live dates have been almost fanatical. As Linnell sits perched on a bar stool, wrapped around his accordion, Flansburgh hurtles feverishly around the stage attached to his runaway guitar. They rely on backing tapes for the body of the music and despite enlisting the help of other musicians in the past, have always reverted to their two-piece line-up. "We once played with a filing cabinet onstage, doing the links," Flansburgh recollects. "We gave it a face and put a sombrero hat on top of it. A tape ran in between songs so that it looked like the cabinet was the MC. People were really alienated by the whole thing. They came up to us after the show and said 'That was really f***ed up."
"I thought it was really cool myself," smiles Linnell.
Their new LP, 'Flood', is a chaotic masterpiece. Nineteen tracks of inspired madness throw subjects and observations at the listener at an alarming pace. Both Linnell and Flansburgh admit that cohesion was never their strength and stress the difficulty in writing an album's worth of material. John F. admits that "it can be hard work sometimes. We're miserable failures at so many other things that music really is our best effort. I don't just roll out of bed and think 'Another ingenious idea! Kiss me, I'm wonderful'. Some people say we're too smart and others say we're too silly. But I think the truth lies somewhere in between."
"We're juuust right," says Linnell, with a broad smile.