Strange Ranger and Chanel Beads Aren’t Going to Talk About Their Upbringings

Isaac Eiger fronts the New York-based rock band Strange Ranger; Shane Lavers is one-half of Chanel Beads, his also-New-York-based experimental electronic project with Maya Collette. Strange Ranger’s latest record, Pure Music, was just released on Fire Talk, so to celebrate, the two friends got on a Zoom call to catch up about it, and much more.
— Annie Fell, Editor-in-chief, Talkhouse Music

Isaac Eiger: What’s up, Shane? How are you doing? 

Shane Lavers: Good. I was just grinding my teeth like crazy. 

Isaac: Why? 

Shane: Just, like, in my sleep.

Isaac: Oh, really? Does that happen a lot?

Shane: Yeah. I gotta do something about it. Sometimes I wake up and I’m like, Damn, what was I up to?

Isaac: Are your teeth ground down?

Shane: I think they’re getting there, in the back.

Isaac: Damn, dude. You gotta put a piece of cardboard in your mouth or something. 

Shane: [Laughs.] 

Isaac: So what are we going to talk about?

Shane: I don’t know. I was thinking the other day about stuff I don’t want to talk about. 

Isaac: What don’t you want to talk about?

Shane: I don’t want to talk about our upbringings.

Isaac: [Laughs.] OK, we don’t have to talk about our upbringings. 

Shane: I was curious — I feel like you and I have different views on playing live. Or I don’t know if they’re that different, but because we’re a computer band now and you guys are anti-computer…

Isaac: Well, we’re not anti-computer. I don’t trust the computer to be stable. We use this thing called an Octatrack to run the set, and that’s a stability issue. I guess visually, I like the idea of there not being a computer. But the fact that you guys have a computer doesn’t bother me — I don’t think it detracts from your set at all. Are you worried about it or something?

Shane: No. I’ve just been feeling weird about recorded music, maybe, more than live music. 

Isaac: Why?

Shane: I don’t know. It’s hard to put into words.

Isaac: Let’s just talk about your upbringing.

Shane: [Laughs.] No, for some reason I’ve just been feeling like, Damn, recorded music is not actually that old. Not that many generations have passed. And I already feel like when we play, it’s so much about just playing recorded music in a live setting; there’s so much pre-recorded stuff, or sampling. I was listening to DJ mixes and thinking about how some of the best experiences I’ve had in the last few years with music have been in a live setting listening to recorded music. It’s been making me think like, What’s the point of any of it? I don’t know.

Isaac: Yeah. I think volume is really a crazy thing — if something is really, really loud, you don’t really care how it’s being made. If it sounds good and it’s really loud, it makes it so much better. You just want to be overcome by something. 

Shane: Totally.

Isaac: I feel like if something grips you in a sensory way, it doesn’t really matter how it’s happening. 

Shane: Yeah. I’ve always been impressed when people I’ve played with are like, “Yeah, turn it down a little bit,” [for] themselves. 

Isaac: Yeah. I would never. Well, if it’s really grating — we played a show recently that the sound was crazy. It was so fucking loud, but in a horrible way. It wasn’t like overwhelming cool loud, it was like, “I’m sorry to subject you all to this” loud. But if the sound is good, you just want it to be as loud as possible, I feel like.

Shane: Yeah. I was talking to someone who does vinyl only, dance music DJing stuff, and they were saying that with the right sound system vinyl is better, because if you’re just playing the worst SoundCloud-ripped MP3s, you get ear fatigue a little bit easier.

Isaac: Huh. I don’t know if I buy that. 

Shane: I don’t know either, but—

Isaac: All of this audiophile ear fatigue business, I’m just like, OK. I feel like I didn’t care about vinyl at all, and then — my friends went on a trip and I lived in their apartment for a few months while they were gone last year, and they had this record collection and an awesome vinyl setup. So I would just sit in their living room and listen to records by myself every night. It was such an awesome experience and it made me like vinyl, I guess. Are you pro-vinyl?

Shane: I haven’t owned a record player. I never really had a proper set up in my life. When I was in high school, I inherited my grandpa’s huge, dresser-sized, 1940s record player and all his big band and Mormon Tabernacle Choir stuff. 

Isaac: This kind of sounds like your upbringing a little…

Shane: [Laughs.] Yeah. I don’t know, I’ve got four records. 

Isaac: What are your four records?

Shane: Well, they’re records that I’m like, “I think I could maybe sell these.”

Isaac: Nice. So they’re investments.

Shane: Yeah. I’ve got two This Heat records. Half of the stuff that I’ve held on to is just This Heat. Have you listened to them before?

Isaac: I’ve heard that name, but I don’t know anything about them. 

Shane: They’re late ‘70s, real early post-punk. They did a lot of sampling and—

Isaac: I always thought This Heat was a house thing. 

Shane: Yeah, they almost are. Or not really. It’s really groovy, but not funky. They have songs that you’re supposed to play them at different speeds on the record player. I feel like they were one of the first people to do that.

Isaac: That’s cool. That is neat.

Shane: Yeah. Records are cool. But I feel like I know people who are like, “Oh, I’m not going to listen to that until I get it on vinyl.”

Isaac: That’s totally ridiculous. 

Shane: I like rituals, though.

Isaac: Sure, but that sounds like some weird, obsessive fixation, hang up thing. But maybe I shouldn’t judge. I don’t know. People can do whatever they want.

Shane: Yeah, that’s true. I don’t care about releasing music on vinyl. I feel like you and I have talked about that.

Isaac: Yeah, I didn’t care about that either until after I had that experience of actually listening to records that I was like, Oh, that’s kind of cool that we have records too. Also, I mean, this is like 800 year old man type shit, but just with how Cloud-based everything is now, the idea of having an anchor to the real world is pretty cool. I feel like you do like things that you invest in more, you know? Like when I was a kid, just getting CDs was sick. 

Shane: Yeah. I remember I had this CD player that for some reason wouldn’t read burned discs, because I had started burning CDs. So I was like, OK, well, I just have to go buy some CDs.

Isaac: What CDs did you get? 

Shane: The first CDs that I went and bought myself? I biked to Borders and I bought Never Mind the Bollocks, mostly because of the name.

Isaac: That’s cool. Did you know what bollocks meant? 

Shane: No. 

Isaac: Nice.

Shane: I mean, you kind of just infer. But that’s not a super listenable record. I feel like I’ve heard that whole album so many times, but like…

Isaac: I’ve probably only listened to it in full once, honestly. But that’s a cool early record to own as a child.

Shane: The second Gorillaz record was so good, Demon Days. That was my first when I was like, Oh, there’s a narrative… 

Isaac: There’s so many Gorillaz songs that I like, but I’ve never listened to a whole Gorillaz record.

Shane: I haven’t listened to anything after that one, really. I’m not a Damon Albarn head.

Isaac: Really? There are Blur songs that are so good though. I like his attitude. I like his accent.

Shane: Yeah. I saw some Oasis documentary where they characterized Blur as the nerdy—

Isaac: They’re more posh. 

Shane: Yeah. And I was like, OK, well, I’m an Oasis fan for life. 

Isaac: Well, yeah, Oasis is a million times better. Oasis is one of the greatest bands ever.

Shane: You really can’t fake what makes Oasis great.

Isaac: I know. It’s funny because I feel like Blur’s the cool pick. I kind of front like I like Blur more than I do, I think just because my friends like Blur so much. I’m like, “Yeah, totally, they’re just as good as Oasis.” But in my heart, there’s no comparison.

Shane: Two years ago, I would have been like, “Fuck all of these people, I just like My Bloody Valentine, I hate Britpop.” 

Isaac: Really? Damn, that’s brutal. Do you like any Stone Roses songs?

Shane: Yeah, I love that whole record. 

Isaac: Do you like Primal Scream? 

Shane: I actually just — Maya was borrowing Curtis [Everett Pawley, aka The Life]’s car. He has a CD collection because he can only play CDs in it, and I was like, “I’m going to put this Screamadelica record on.” It was not what I was expecting. I only knew “Velocity Girl,” that’s from before they were a band really. [Screamadelica] feels like if the Rolling Stones made ‘90s house music. 

Isaac: [Sings,] “I’m movin’ on up, yeah.”

Shane: I’m new to iconic albums, so when I describe them, I feel like people are like, “Yeah, that’s the point.” [Laughs.] 

Isaac: Harrison [Patrick Smith, aka The Dare] has been trying to get me to listen to this XTRMNTR album by Primal Scream, which is actually produced by Kevin Shields. I tried listening to it and I really didn’t like it. And it’s weird because Kevin Shields is obviously, you know, the best, and Primal Scream are awesome, but it just didn’t do it for me. But maybe I’m a fool and it will later down the line.

Shane: I remember Kevin Shields had an interview where he had, like, a psyop idea that the British government funded Britpop to get kids to stop interacting with counterculture art or something. I’d like to believe that, but I just don’t. But I like that someone whose band imploded and Britpop rose up has got this bitter psyop idea.

Isaac: Yeah, definitely. It’s like, sorry that Oasis is great. “Don’t Look Back in Anger” isn’t a psyop, it’s just, like, one of the best songs ever. 

Shane: Yeah. 

Isaac: I do wonder if there’s anything being made by our friends that is going to have any impact. Like if we were friends with Noel Gallagher in 1995, would we know?

Shane: I don’t know. I feel like there’s kind of an innate this-is-all-gonna-end attitude. Or maybe I have it and I assume everybody else has it, but I don’t really think of longevity a ton, with cultural impact. Besides that, I just don’t want to be part of a fad or something. 

Isaac: Yeah, definitely. I just wonder if you can tell that something is going to matter or not when it’s happening.

Shane: There are so many bands that I cared a lot about in high school that probably if you said the name of them, I’d be like, “Wow, I forgot about that band.” Sometimes I worry if everything in my life is going to be like that. 

Isaac: Yeah, I have no idea. I mean, I certainly don’t think anyone we know is going to get as famous as [the Britpop] stuff. That stuff was so mainstream. I think the cultural impact it had just makes its hangover longer in the culture; it’s like, this just matters because so many people knew about it. And I feel like the music that people we know are making just doesn’t have that crossover appeal.

Why do you think you make music?

Shane: I don’t know. Do you make other forms of art, besides music?

Isaac: A little bit. I definitely see music as the main thing I do. But I have so many interests in art beyond music that I want to do in my life.

Shane: Yeah, I feel like a year ago, you were talking about getting into writing.

Isaac: Yeah, I was really into writing for a while. I would still like to do that, it’s just really embarrassing. Making anything is embarrassing, but music — you know, we’ve both been doing it for so long, so we kind of have a handle on literally just how to make it. And writing is just… I mean, it’s related, but it’s totally different thing. 

Shane: It’s hard to share writing with people.

Isaac: It’s horrible, honestly. 

Shane: I tried to get into filmmaking a little bit when I was 18, and then I pivoted to writing instead. When I lived in Montana, I was doing poetry readings and stuff. 

Isaac: Where were you doing readings in Bozeman?

Shane: The Emerson Cultural Center. And then at the public library, there was a meetup and there were some really amazing people doing poetry there.There’s this guy who was doing — I forget his name, but he repaired my amp and he just had a whole room of synthesizers. 

Isaac: Wait, who was that guy?

Shane: Oh, man, I can’t remember his name. 

Isaac: Was that One-Eyed Bob?

Shane: Dude, yes. That was One-Eyed Bob. 

Isaac: That’s crazy. He fixed my amp when I was a kid. That guy is insane. 

Shane: He just writes, like, Billy Joel songs — like, a million a day.

Isaac: Really? I never heard any of his songs. I only knew him through fixing my amp. That’s nuts that you know that guy! God damn.

Shane: Yeah, just from the public poetry readings at the library.

Isaac: That is wild. He was early to Q-Anon, schizophrenic, crazy shit. 

Shane: Oh, I bet.

Isaac: He was like that 15 years ago. I wonder what he’s doing now.

Shane: I don’t know. I left right before Trump got elected, and I feel like everybody that I loved in Montana is probably just so down some internet rabbit hole.

Isaac: Yeah, totally. It is crazy there right now.

Shane: But, yeah, I feel like I got disillusioned with making films. You shouldn’t make a movie if it’s works better as a short story or a novel, and I feel like you shouldn’t tell a story that works better in sound. I’m not a very visual person, so… I don’t know, it’s sad when you’re putting a lot of work into some art form that is better told in a different way.

Isaac: What’s really cool, though, about film is that I feel like a lot of filmmakers aren’t really visual people either. If you watch Eric Rohmer — and I’m sure film people will be like, “Oh, you’re such an idiot for saying this,” but his movies are all like proto-Linklater, just people talking, basically. And his movies do look very beautiful, because they’re shot in France and beautiful people are in them, but it’s not like a David Lynch movie or something where there’s this visual craziness. A better example is maybe a movie like Walking and Talking. Have you seen that? 

Shane: No.

Isaac: That movie’s crazy. It’s so good. Same style of movie, though: it’s just people talking. You get the sense the filmmaker is basically just a really good writer. And those are some of the best movies. 

Shane: In the same way that it’s easier to share stuff, I’ve watched more movies than I read books, so if there’s an idea communicated I’m just going to interact with that medium more. Music is awesome because it’s easy to share with someone, and if there’s an idea I want to communicate, it’s way easier to put it in a song.

Isaac: What ideas do you feel like you communicate in your songs?

Shane: I don’t know… You’ve heard that thing where it’s like, “some musicians write the same song over and over again”? I’m not saying you do that, but I feel like you and I have something we try to communicate, and I’m not really quite sure what it is.

Isaac: Yeah, I agree.

Shane: I feel like both of us are like, I’ve got this feeling of understanding and I’m not sure what it is, and I don’t want to lose it.

Isaac: Do you think that has changed throughout the years, or do you think you’re basically trying to communicate the same thing all the time?

Shane: I think for the last five years, I’ve been trying to write the same song.

Isaac: Your music really feels like childhood to me, in the way that childhood feels so naive and also menacing. Your music feels innocent in this way that’s also vulnerable to violence and despair. 

Shane: Well, it’s kind of funny how, in my life at least, I feel like there’s way more of a threat of violence in your youth, just because anything can happen and you don’t know what’s going to happen. Like, I kind of know what’s going to happen tomorrow for me, in a much broader sense… I feel like you’re way more lyrical than I am.

Isaac: What does that mean? You have lyrics too. [Laughs.]

Shane: [Laughs.] I don’t know why I said that. I just meant there’s more lyrics to get into.

Isaac: Maybe my songs have literally more words in them? I don’t know if that means anything.

Shane: Well, just literally there’s more Isaac words out in the world. 

Isaac: Yeah, that’s true. 

Shane: But there’s a lot of lyrics that, even before I met you — because I knew your music and I liked it — in that song “Dom,” I think there’s a lyric, “Did you get that voicemail your sister sent?” I used to think it was “sister’s scent,” like you’re smelling your sister or something. 

Isaac: [Laughs.]

Shane: There was something taboo about it.

Isaac: That would honestly be cooler. I need to make crazier decisions like that.

Shane: Whenever I’m excited about a song, it’s because there’s a sound that’s really crazy in it that I like. But also, lyrically there’ll be something where I’m like, I shouldn’t say this. Even though it’s not offensive, or no one’s going to be like, “Wow, that’s crazy Shane said that.” But in my head I’m like… I don’t know, I don’t really give a lot of context for why I’m saying something in my music. But there’s stuff in your songs where I’m like, Woah. Even though it’s not weird at all, I’m like, I can’t believe he said that.

Isaac: That’s cool. Yeah, I don’t know why you say the things you say. Going back, it’s interesting you feel like now you know what’s going to happen tomorrow, and when you were a kid you didn’t. The older I get, the less assured I feel of what’s going to happen and why things are happening. I honestly kind of feel the opposite. I feel like when I was young, I had this armor where I was just like, I’m gonna do the things I wanna do, and then life is going to happen in a way that will feel good, or something. And then the older I get, I just feel so confused about everything. I feel like I have no guarantee from the universe that anything will happen, necessarily. 

Shane: Were you a confident kid?

Isaac: I was a really angry kid. I felt really, really frustrated, and I think maybe spiritually confused or something. But I felt very assured in what I was setting out to do in life. But I don’t know if I was confident. I think I just didn’t really think about that. 

Shane: Were you confident in what you thought was cool?

Isaac: Oh, yeah. Super confident in taste and in what I was doing. And then the older I get, the more I’m just like, I have no fucking idea about anything. Who knows why anything happens or what will happen. I remember thinking when I was a kid like, Everybody falls in love and it’s awesome. I’ve definitely been in love before, and it was awesome, but I don’t know if that’s going to happen again. Sometimes things just don’t work out and there’s no reason for anything, and then it all just goes away eventually. But I think it’s likely that good things will happen, too — I just mean, I don’t feel like I can depend on anything to happen anymore, you know? 

Shane: Totally. I feel like I feel the same way in adulthood. Whenever I say a big statement, I’m always like, Well, I also believe the opposite…

Isaac: God, speaking of — I’m going to get reamed for saying that Eric Rohmer is not a visual filmmaker. But I was trying to illustrate a point! I don’t know. Do you feel more confused than you used to?

Shane: Well, I think I was a very confused kid, and a very passive kid in a lot of ways. Not maybe outwardly, but… I feel like I didn’t know what to do with myself until I was, like, 25. 

Isaac: I met you when you were about 25, right? 

Shane: Younger. We’re the same age?

Isaac: Yeah, basically… So, do you have any final thoughts?

Shane: Um… music’s good… everything is coming to an end…

Isaac: It’s crazy to know that even the Beatles, in 200 years, nobody’s going to give a fuck about that. I’m a musician or whatever, and I don’t know the difference between, like, Handel and Bach at all. 

Shane: I kind of feel the opposite, though: in 200 years, they’re not going to be giving a shit about anything that’s happening today, they’re only going to be caring about the Beatles. I feel like there was a window of time — and this is kind of a paranoia, I’m-worried-about thing — but I feel like the window is closed.

Isaac: Oh, and that there’s no more culture? Culture is just done? 

Shane: Yeah.

Isaac: I think that’s just depressing, honestly. I don’t think that things happening now are less significant. I mean, I definitely feel that impulse, like, None of this shit matters, only things made before 2000 mattered. But I think that’s just getting used to the air you’re breathing, basically, and being like, No, this matters. But maybe you’re also right. I have no idea. But, OK, let’s say 500 years — I just mean, even the things that mattered the most will go away entirely. And that’s just crazy. But everybody’s fighting and groveling so hard for their little thing, and it just doesn’t matter. It’s not going to matter at all. 

Shane: Yeah. 

Isaac: But I’ll still do it.

Shane: But also, even the context of, “what has cultural impact?” I don’t really give a shit. I’ve really been trying to be less of a cultural critic.

Isaac: Oh, yeah.

Shane: Because I’ll hear people talk and I’m like, Damn, you know so much more than I do. I’m just going to loosen my grip on trying to figure this out so much.

Isaac: Yeah, totally. Because there’s nothing really to figure out. Music either makes you feel a way or it doesn’t. And you can talk about it for bajillions of years and you don’t really get any closer to why something is good. I do feel like in some of my friendships, we talk too much about why something is good and it just totally ruins it and misses the point of it. It’s like, we’re not arriving anywhere. Something either hits you or it doesn’t. 

Shane: I feel like I’ll have the conversation of, “Why is this good?” And maybe two times out of ten, I will arrive at something that makes me appreciate the thing more. And eight out of ten, I’ll be like, What the fuck? What are we talking about? I feel like both of our music is aiming for something like that. I would be kind of sad if someone described my music as being good because of x, y, z.

Isaac: I know what you mean.

Shane: It would be cool to hear why it sucks, though. I’d be curious.

Isaac: [Laughs.] No, it doesn’t feel good, let me tell you. 

Shane: Yeah. I’m sheltered. No one’s reviewed my shit.

Isaac: It’s comin’. Everybody’s going to love your stuff.

(Photo Credit: left, Kiernan Francis)