There’s a scene in Fire Walk with Me with a woman walking into a room full of men and there’s a sense of doom in the atmosphere. I remember Sean mentioning that he wanted his bass lines to sound like what she would hear while walking into that room.
I definitely see pictures with my music too.
And within all the flat-line atmosphere there’s a lot of emotion. To me it feels like if you let the floodgates open it could pour emotion all over you, but by keeping it tight there’s a kind of tension there.
And it’s exactly that tension that pulls me asunder, and why I love HTRK so, so much.
We’re always getting called dark, but darkness is not what we’re thinking about. We don’t want to take that away from people, but darkness is kind of boring to us. We’re after a rich truth, not some stylistic stance.
You really sense that there’s more to HTRK than what’s on the surface. In fact, the music is just scratching the surface. Reacting to HTRK’s music, that’s where the magic is. A lot of uncomfortable emotions and thoughts surface whenever I listen to their music, it’s almost like their music whispers and goads you into releasing your inner psyche.
In the wake of Sean’s death, we became kind of obsessed by Sean’s interests, like all the books he listed on MySpace and Fassbinder films and comic books and graphic novels. There was a lot of mystery to Sean that we were trying to unravel while making the album.
Work (Work, Work), still stands as the most fascinating HTRK piece of work for me. It’s complex in its mood and treatment, it too has helped me grieve, either through something vicarious, or by being able to both numb or provide exegesis all at the same time.