A short talk with Alex Kent from Sprain on intensity, positive "embarrassment", and cultural contextualization.
Diogo: In 2020, I wrote the following statement about "Worship House":
"[Alex] Kent's exasperated groans are accompanied by post-rock dynamics, dissonant and angular guitars, and a remarkable instrumental intensity achieved through the feedback of amps. It all fuses into an epic and above all cathartic experience. The cacophony is heightened during the grand finale, thanks in no small part to the thoughtful inclusion of chaotic saxophones reminiscent of Challenge For A Civilized Society.
Diogo: What do you try to achieve in the creation of such abrasive music?
Alex: Thanks for the kind words. I'm not sure if there is any real goal with creating abrasive music, or music in general, beyond entertaining the impulse to create honest, expressive art. I like to think that we create for the sake of creation; there's really no reward or payoff other than the satisfaction of making music for us. [...] As far as making "abrasive" music goes, that's just what the song "Worship House" called for. Different pieces call for different approaches. I believe music should be as intense as possible, but that intensity should manifest in different ways. If a piece is quiet and sad, then I want it to be intensely quiet and sad. If another piece is loud and frightening, then let it be intensely so. I never want things to be polite or moderate, that just doesn't interest me.
Diogo: In "Constant Hum", this "intensity" is expressed differently. The drums hit hard, and the screams try to break through all the empty space. It takes its time. It attempts to reach someplace, but ends up circling around it in constant despair.
Alex Kent: Yes, that song was an experiment to see if we could retain the intensity of the rest of the record at a crawling tempo. I am not sure how Max, our drummer at the time, was able to keep consistent time with that particular song. Dynamically, it ebbs and flows a lot; I feel like the crescendo we tried to achieve sounds pretty underwhelming in the recorded version. Maybe that's why you think it's trying to reach "someplace", but doesn't actually get there. I think the song works ok on record, but it still stands as a piece where I wish I had given myself more time to annunciate the arrangements and rewrite some of the terrible lyrics. You live and you learn.
Diogo: In your opinion, where does the correlation between "intensity" and "dissonance" originate from? We can certainly feel it, but how could this phenomenon be put into words?
Alex Kent: I can't give a good answer, because I speak from a naturally biased perspective, but I think what you're talking about is just, as you said, the unexplainable phenomenological nature of sound. Those kinds of frequencies, and combination thereof, have historically elicited that kind of response in people. Knowing that, artists can apply such musical gestures in their craft to achieve the same effect, if they are that cerebral about their process. It's like a non-phonetic language, a language of feeling and texture. All that said, we have to take into account interpretation and cultural background. What one individual hears as dissonant or intense, another might hear as completely tonal and normal. The concept of tonality, in general, is a totally archaic western notion. When I was doing my undergrad, I had the opportunity to join a student Javanese gamelan ensemble. To my western-treated ears the music sounded harmonically bizarre and "dissonant", maybe even a bit unsettling, but in actuality, we were just playing what in Java are happy children's lullabies. Cultural context goes a long way when considering the emotional effect of sounds and harmony. Everyone has their own personal computation of musical feeling and gesture that they filter through what we colloquially refer to as interpretation.
Diogo: Do you think it's reasonable to compare you to post-hardcore act Unwound? Also, what bands have we been sleeping on?
Alex Kent: Unwound is an inspiration. I feel strongly that we are a unique band, not standing in the shadow of any other projects. As for bands that I think are slept on, I really recommend Poorly Drawn House from Spartanburg, South Carolina. They are a bit like a Slowcore band but they record their music in very interesting and unique ways. I think they are one of the bands in the world and I'm eagerly anticipating new music from them in 2022.
Diogo: How is the relationship with The Flenser developing? Does it affect the creative process in any way? The artists affiliated with the label seem to incorporate specific Aesthetics, yet they all sound very different from one another.
Alex Kent: Something I really appreciate about working with The Flenser is that they have a very hands-off approach to the way they work with us. We are pretty much allowed to do whatever we want with little pushback, which I think is rather rare for a label-artist relationship, especially for a band of our small stature. I would say that working with them hasn't really affected our creative process. I think they seek out artists with certain common threads of ethos, and that's where the similarities between the musicians begin and end. Sonically, we are all very different from one another.
Diogo: Your music feels poetic in a peculiar way, integrating existential and misanthropic themes, both in lyrics and sonority. What is the story behind As Lost Through Collision?
Alex Kent: Thank you. This is a difficult question to answer because I'm not entirely sure there is a satisfying origin story for the record. I think those lyrical topics just came from a place of honest communication. Sometimes I was just writing to communicate anxieties and concerns I had at that time, some of which have passed and some of which are still very much with me. Other times I was writing because I felt it was necessary to my well-being. The music and lyrics just come from fragments we have littered about, shards of song that are later collaged into full pieces. We don't sit down with any goals in mind other than to create something. I suppose a common goal we all have is to not make the music suck. It's funny to look back at that time and read those lyrics, some of them are so embarrassing and preposterous. Embarrassment, in the artist's sense, is good; it likely means you're communicating honestly, not holding anything back. I am simultaneously dreading and looking forward to embarrassing myself further on future releases!
Diogo: If we consider that the feeling of "embarrassment" is egodystonic, then the capacity of assimilating it shows a growth in self-confidence and a step towards "freedom". It's no longer a confusing and repressed sensation, but one that's related to a goal: the goal to "not make the music suck" or, in other words, the goal to compose honest music.
Alex Kent: I'm not sure I'm growing more confident, maybe I am just learning to accept the embarrassment as a natural part of the process. I think some of the most powerful artists are people who have wholly accepted themselves in the present moment, and try to forget about their past and future as much as they possibly can. That is something I am ultimately trying to accomplish, radical self-acceptance. Perhaps I am just romanticizing the natural confidence of other people. You can't go back and edit the past, you can only push forward. I for one have a lot of work to do in that regard.
Diogo: What can we expect from Sprain in the future?
Alex Kent: More music and more touring hopefully. We had major plans to hit the road in the last 2 years, all of which were of course squandered by the pandemic. We are currently working on our second record. All the pieces are coming along slowly (we are forever plagued by setbacks like members leaving and studio cancellations!) but I think this is by far our strongest batch of songs yet. Most of these new pieces don't sound remotely like anything we've done previously. I'm really looking forward to their eventual release.
Diogo: Could you give us a clue to where your sonority is heading next?
Alex Kent: I don't want to give too much away but I suppose I can supply a few abstract hints. The scope of instrumentation is much wider, as is the definition of "what a Sprain song is allowed to be". The music is still intense, but more colorfully so. There is less guitar. I am attempting to sing on this record, not just talk or shout. Might I be so bold as to suggest it is an inevitable and natural evolution for the band?
Comments