It’s been a while since Anand Nayak and Polly Fiveash have played at the me&thee. In fact, Polly was very pregnant with their son, Jack, and he’s creeping up on his big second birthday later this year. Anand is a terrific guitarist and contributes greatly to the sound of daisy mayhem and as you’ll find out in the interview below, he is also in great demand as a record producer. Check out Polly and Anand’s website.
You can also check out their performance on the Millenium Stage at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C.
- How would you differentiate the music that you play with daisy mayhem and that which you play with Polly Fiveash?
- For one thing, we’re much quieter. It’s just me on guitar and often just Polly singing. Everything being so exposed makes me want to play less complicated stuff, and try to really use the space. Style-wise, we don’t go as deeply into the traditional stuff, and we’re a bit more interested in recent music. Once we did a beatbox version of ‘I Want Your Sex’ which completely ruled. As all-over-the-place as the mayhem can be, we have yet to do eighties pop. This story gives the wrong impression, but it’s worth noting. Most of time we’re pretty mellow.
- Have you always been a guitar player or have you experimented with other instruments as well? Do you have any guitar heroes?
- As a kid I sang in a Unitarian church choir and took classical piano lessons for years. I saw myself as a singer and pianist before picking up the guitar. That was in high school. It took me a while to find a way of being a guitarist that wasn’t just about chasing sounds, trying to play like famous players. I also wasted a lot of time trying to sound technically impressive before discovering the un-winnability of that race. In recent years I’ve started to develop a style that sort of feels like me, but I don’t know what to call it. Most of the acoustic guitarists I like to listen to play with a ton of patience, like Mike Dowling, David Rawlings, Nick Drake. But my first guitar was an electric, and I’ve always been an electric player at heart. I still kind of want to be Johnny Greenwood, but really who doesn’t? Recently I’ve been into upright bass and mandolin, and have been scheming about relearning how to play the piano. Eventually I’ll pick up the banjo and it’ll all be over.
- I understand that you and rest of daisy mayhem rang in the new year at Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City. How did that gig come about? It’s an extraordinary structure; what was it like to play there?
- I wasn’t really prepared for the scale of it. Most of the Cathedral is closed off for renovations, so I was sort of expecting a let down, but it was really breathtaking. This was their annual New Year’s peace celebration, and we were just one of many acts including opera singers and a medium size orchestra and with full chorus doing selections from Aaron Copland. I had to laugh when I was told (after we played) that the very regal looking lady facing me in the front row was Judy Collins. She was impressive. She sang two solo a capella songs, and spoke with passion and eloquence for peace. Later her husband bumped my coffee cup as he walked by on the stairs, resulting in stains. Rani had the biggest night of all of us. She grew up down the street and went to school at the Cathedral, so I was glad the band got such a great response. All in all a nice blend of inspiring and humbling.
- In addition to playing with Polly and with Rani Arbo, you also play with Pamela Means whose musical style bends many different musical genres. Sounds like all these pairings must make you keep your own musical chops up. Do you feel that a different part of you emerges when you play with different musicians?
- One of my goals as a musician is to stay open and interesting, so I love playing with different people. Pamela has such a unique groove, and when we play together I’m usually on the upright, so that’s been very freeing. Funny though, lately I’ve been feeling more I want to sound like the same person making music no matter what I’m doing. I’m just hoping that person is one that other people like listening to.
- You’ve also done some production work in the studio. Can you tell us a little about that part of your life and what kind of projects you’ve worked on.
- I started out in a band that took the release of the ADAT as a cue to start making records all by ourselves, and recording’s been a part of what I do ever since. A big part of it has been making children’s music records for my friend Steve Roslonek that, according to my indie-rocker friends “don’t suck”. He’s debuting on PBS this spring, which has meant a lot of work for me. Through all that I’ve learned to play the bass and mandolin, and have been able to develop some muscle for arrangement. Lately I’ve been geeking out about the technical end of recording, having met and worked with some really first-rate engineers and studios in recent years.
- Other records I’ve worked on (other than my own) include ‘Closer’ for Lui Collins and ‘The Foundry’ for Sam Bigelow. I’m working on three records right now, look for Alex Bartlett, Victor Sandman, and Judith Avers later this year. I’ve been doing most of my recent work at the Slaughterhouse in Westhampton, MA, which has been fantastic. Also in the works right now is a children’s record from daisy mayhem, a new record for me and Polly, and my first solo record. This should all be on the new website I ought to be working on.
- What music are you listening to these days? Any favorite artists or CDs?
- Well, to put my lack of obscure interests on display, I’ve been loving this classic 50’s R&B collection Polly’s brother gave her, and I was a bit obsessive with ‘Naturally’ by Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings this year. I’ve been rediscovering Beck, Stevie Wonder and Thelonius Monk, too. You might say I’m feeling more inclined these days to listen to uplifting stuff, but at the same time I’ve got my Nick Drake (I’ve had ‘Road’ stuck in my head for days now) and my Radiohead on a whole lot these days, especially ‘Hail to the Thief’. ‘Time the Revelator’ is never far from my stereo. Or course those sounds, despite the obvious melancholy, are so beautiful that I find it uplifting, so there you are. Wherever there is great beauty there is hopefulness.