
Any discussion of Ringo Deathstarr, an Austin-based trio dealing up paradoxically pretty slabs of distortion and volume, seems predestined to move as quickly as possible to the problem of influence - a nice, clean reduction of their sound to its closest forebear, which, as may be surmised even from my briefest of descriptions, is My Bloody Valentine. The band themselves seem admirably amused and nonplussed rather than justifiably annoyed by the dogged persistence of this comparison: 'It's like they're saying “aha! I've got you, you're a My Bloody Valentine ripoff!' says guitarist/vocalist Elliott Frazier with a laugh, 'and it's like, uh, earth to Sherlock here, as though we're trying to get away with something...' This is, it seems, an inevitable corollary of the sheer proliferation of writing about and sharing of music, an ever-narrowing turnaround between novelty and obsolescence. 'I just think it's lazy,' says drummer Daniel Coborn, 'like, everyone's a journalist these days and it's easy just to write something based on one song and propagate the same line. Why don't people get yelled at for sounding like The Beatles?'
My Bloody Valentine are, at least, a comparatively underemployed influence in recent years, a canonical reference point who nevertheless have not had the sound they came to epitomise run into the ground during their ongoing hiatus. Ringo Deathstarr certainly suggest that there is room left to manoeuvre within that intuitively-compelling mix of aggressive amplitude and disarming melody; though they have not been having the easiest ride of it, in spite of a perceptible increase in their profile in the UK and Europe, and a recent support slot on the Smashing Pumpkins' European tour that has seen them playing at enormous venues across the continent. In the US it is, for the band, a very different matter: 'there is nothing going on for us over there,' Dan says bluntly. 'They hate us,' says Elliott. As to why this might be, there are a number of possibilities: 'our name is too stupid for them,' says Alex Gehrig, bassist and vocalist. 'We've been blacklisted by Pitchfork,' says Dan, 'so nobody in America cares. I don't know why, it just happened. We're not cool I guess.'
Cool or not, a lack of support at home may be as much of a blessing as a curse. 'If we were to get really successful in Austin,' continues Dan, 'maybe we would be satisfied with being a really popular Austin band or something and you can only go so far playing in a city in America.' Elliott agrees: 'Yeah there are tons of bands that can fill up rooms in Austin more than we can but they're not doing what we're doing.' A lack of local support has certainly not hampered offers of touring, including the aforementioned offer from the Smashing Pumpkins, which came entirely by surprise: 'it was pretty fucking weird,' Dan says. Understandably. 'I was at work that day,' says Elliott, 'and I got a call from our US label saying “the Smashing Pumpkins emailed me to get your contact info and they're considering to open them,” and five minutes later I checked my emails, Jeff Schroeder, the guitar player, had emailed me saying “we want you to open for us”.' The tour has been, in Elliott's words, 'a shock to the system.' He continues, 'you go to shows like that but you don't realise what actually happens behind the scenes, like the amount of preparation that they put in to their show compared to what we thought was enough preparation for our show...'
The experience has, according to Elliott, forced the band to 'adapt quickly,' a sharp learning curve that nevertheless has had beneficial effects on their performance style: 'When you're playing in little clubs it's one thing. You can't have that same attitude when you're playing on a stage where the PA is like a magnifying glass. You can hear every single little thing. You could put a microphone up there and drop a pin and amplify it loud enough to be heard over the guitars. When you're in a small club it's like a safety net, it's so loud in there that you can just go crazy... but out there it's like you can see everything clear, the crowd is far away. You just have to do it differently. You have to learn how to impact the audience the way that you want to.' This is not to say they've given up their commitment to volume, however; their shows remain punishingly loud: 'They haven't told us we're too loud yet,' says Elliot. 'It's been pretty loud. That's the cool thing about them, they're not trying to stifle what we are. I think the shows with them are the loudest shows we've ever done! Some people were like 'I can't believe how loud it is'. A laudably uncompromising attitude that has had some mixed results; the band, who are very active on Twitter, have been keeping up with the responses. 'Yeah there's definitely some people that just don't get it,' says Elliot, 'they think that we sound bad because the guitars are so loud.' '”it's just a bunch of noise!”' Dan says, 'good tweets.' '”I couldn't understand what the vocals were saying! I couldn't hear any of the lyrics!”' Alex adds.
Scooping such a high-profile touring slot does not, however, instantly equate to a big payday. Things have changed. 'It's weird,' says Dan. 'Ten years ago, maybe more, if you were touring with the Smashing Pumpkins you'd be rich and stuff but now, not at all. We don't make any money, still.' The band are well aware that, in an age of ubiquitous downloading and instant access, all bets are off. Elliott continues: 'Back then, you didn't have YouTube and the internet so you had to buy a band's album to hear it. And I'm sure if we were doing exactly the same amount of touring, if you could go back in time and do it in the 1990s, we would be selling way more records than we are now.' Not to say that they strictly oppose these changes, but they do make it harder to judge who's listening, and where, as Elliott notes: 'I wish there was a way you could keep track. Not necessarily say, stop doing this, but keep track of how many people are actually downloading stuff illegally so you could know more like where they are how many there are and where you need to go.'
Regardless of this, the band are heading everywhere, first with the Smashing Pumpkins, and then flying over to Japan, their fourth trip there, before the end of the year. Do they enjoy the travelling aspect of it? 'It's more of a sleeping aspect of it.' Dan laughs. 'I sleep most of the time. I get so much sleep when i'm on tour it's weird. We try not to have any days off so we don't blow a bunch of money.' At some point between driving, playing, and sleeping, they hope to record a follow-up to this year's Colour Trip, hopefully without the delays that record was subject to: '[Colour Trip] was recorded a year before it came out,' says Elliott. 'Last year was just really weird, stuff going on, behind-the-scenes crap that has nothing to do with music.' Thanks to touring, however, they're not so sure when they're actually going to find time to record it in the first place; the Pumpkins time came right in the middle of the time they had set aside for working on the new material. Technology may just have some beneficial contribution to make, this time - though the band has never tried to write and record on tour before, Elliott says 'Garage Band just came out for the iPhone so we can probably actually do that now. Sit on a long drive and plug the guitar into the phone and make a demo.'
Though the lavish lifestyle may have yet to come along with the band's undoubted success (Elliott says when he's not on tour he's happy 'being at home with my wife and my dog and cats'), they are certainly not unhappy with where they've found themselves. As Dan puts it, with a wryness that seems to disguise a deeper sincerity, 'it's one of those things that's like a dream. Maybe that's what it still feels like to me, a dream world. It doesn't seem real. I think that we achieved this through power of visualisation, I really do! I always knew I'd be something.' Personally, I would not bet against them, whatever you might think about their name.
