Death from Above 1979: Sebastien Grainger on ‘The Physical World’

Brianne Nemiroff

In 2004, punk rock duo, Jesse Keeler and Sebastien Grainger, released their debut album, “You’re a Woman, I’m a Machine,” under the name Death from Above 1979. They immediately began touring as openers for rock favorites such as Nine Inch Nails and Queens of the Stone Age and accumulated a diehard fan base. However, after challenges in their personal lives, Death from Above 1979 disbanded in 2006, just as their popularity was catching on. After working on separate projects and taking the time to grow up, they announced a reunion in 2011 and started hitting the festival circuit. When they noticed that the shows that they booked on their own were selling out, they realized that those diehard fans were still by their side and took the time to record a sophomore album, “The Physical World,” released in 2014.

Death from Above 1979 will be playing two shows in the Los Angeles area, the first on Nov. 13 at The Observatory and the second on Nov. 14 at The Regent Theatre. Anticipating the event, drummer and lead vocalist, Sebastien Grainger, talked to us about why you should come with an open mind to their live shows and why they no longer take each other for granted.

“The Physical World” came out 10 years after your debut. A lot has happened in the industry and in your personal lives. How do you think your sound has changed or in what ways has it stayed the same?

I think [“The Physical World”] is a better sounding record. The first record was so long ago. [Even] this album, when we finished, it was so long ago. The industry has changed but both of us were still in the industry in other forms. We were present during the transition. I think maybe we’re a bit better [now].

“The Physical World” was produced by D. Sardy. What did he bring to the record?

I think that he brought an outside perspective on things. He questioned our instincts a little bit by questioning us in that way. We had to justify things a little more. We didn’t have to do that before. We were buds [with our previous producer]. Although he had the power of opinion, having a stranger be there, he would question our instincts and if we didn’t have a good answer, then we could discuss [possibly] doing something different. In those cases where we were able to defend our choices, it made the music stronger and our convictions stronger.

What’s the inspiration behind the lead single, “Trainwreck 1979?”

The inspiration, initially, was that I wanted to write a song about where I’m from, but I didn’t want it to be a tribute song. [I come from] a suburb in Toronto and I moved to L.A. two years ago. When we moved into our new place, we were up on a hill overlooking two highways. [We had] a whitewash of sound, that sound highways have when you’re far enough away from them, where you can’t hear one single car; it’s white noise. I found it really soothing and it made me think [back to when] I was a kid; I grew up between two highways and that was the sound I heard every night when falling asleep.

I was trying to capture that feeling in that song, tell a story [as] a journey song in a way. The whole bridge section [of the song] is about a train wreck that happened in my hometown that happened the year I was born, on Jesse’s birthday [actually]. There was so many coincidences, so much serendipity. I needed to write about it. I called my dad to ask him about that time and if he had any memories ‘cause we were in the car on the way back from visiting our family in Montreal [at the time of the crash], and we couldn’t get back into our house because parts of the city were closed down because of this near catastrophe.

What’s the inspiration behind the second single, “Government Trash?”

The term “government trash” refers to money. We worship money in a way, we’re almost literally slaves to money and it’s just paper the government makes…a lot of it is not even paper anymore, just digital. It’s [about] the concept of the absurdity of the pursuit for it. That was the original motivation for the song.

The second verse was written while we were in the studio watching the Boston bombing footage and it was such an intense couple of days and there were so many questions. No one knew who did it, all you could witness on the news, on Twitter, were that people’s liberties being trampled on, Boston was going into a police state. It didn’t take much for that to happen. It was a tragedy. People died and it was horrific. It just took a couple of people with things you can buy at Walmart to completely lock down a city and make it a military state. It’s not a criticism on the U.S. It happens in Canada, too. We have the G20 Summit in Toronto and people were just getting thrown into these giant prison camps for walking out of the wrong restaurant at the wrong time. It was crazy. It happens all around the world.

Your fans have stuck with you patiently hoping for a reunion. Did you expect or were you hoping that your fans would come through even years later?

The reunion began in 2011 when we started playing shows. There was no concept or foresight to make a record or the extent of the reunion. [It was just] to see if we could do it physically. And then after that in rehearsal, we started playing shows. The first non-festival show that we booked ourselves was in London. It was sold-out in almost no time and it was really the feeling that it was our audience. We didn’t feel that the first time around. We were collecting fans the whole time, opening for other bands, trying to steal their fans, This was the first experience that we had where people filled the room for us; they knew all of the lyrics, they were dancing and going crazy. From that point on, I think as an artist that there is a huge value in creating excitement. Music can be self-indulgent. You can sing and write for yourself, but there’s a real visceral connection between a room full of excited people and a band that is really special and I didn’t want to take that for granted.

You and Jesse didn’t speak to each other for close to six years. Now that you are working together again, how has your relationship changed professionally and even personally?

Professionally, I think that we both appreciate each other’s abilities talents a little more. We were just winging it the first time around and we took a lot of things for granted. This time around, I was so excited when Jesse sent me the first demos. I felt like they were a gift to me. Now I got to write on top of these riffs. I think he’s an incredible musician. I feel lucky and proud to play with him.

On a personal level, there are lines between who you are and what you do that get really blurred when you play in a band. I’m sure it happens in other professions, so the first time around, I still consider that my growing up time. I was 20 or 21-years-old and I felt like there was a lot of personality clashing eventually and that doesn’t happen anymore. We are far more appreciative of our individuality.

It’s very rare that the lead singer is on drums. Is that a challenge for you to play live and sing at the same time?

Yeah, of course (laughs). It takes, somewhat, getting used to it. It doesn’t get easier. It’s like with tattoos. It doesn’t stop hurting. They always hurt as much as the first time. It’s still just as hard, but it’s what I do so I have to accept it. I don’t know. I guess to a certain degree I’m conditioned to do it. But it still doesn’t feel easy.

What can we expect to see at one of your live shows? What can the L.A. crowd expect to experience?

I don’t really want people to come expecting anything. You come to have a good time and lose yourself for a moment. I think it’s very easy to be distracted by everything. The world is in your pocket now and you’re able to get transfixed into the Internet in the palm of your hand. I consider myself part of this culture. This is not an accusation, but an observation, but people tend to not be present in the real moment of life and that a show, especially a rock show, where you can be engaged with the band, maybe you’re not having a conversation, but you’re there participating. If you’re in the front row or the mosh pit area, there’s not much else you can do. The reason I like that so much is the realization I had this year when I was practicing drums, On my own, it’s rare [for me] to sit behind a kit and play. Environmentally, it’s hard to find a space without pissing people off. But I was doing it a lot this year and I realized that it is the best thing I do in my life ‘cause I love it so much, and I can’t do anything else while playing drums….I sing, so that’s a mistake, but I can’t check my email. All you can do is drum. All you can do is be at the show and look and feel and dance. That’s what I want people to expect, to have the opportunity to just be completely in the moment.