The American independent music scene had become a horse race by 1986. The revolution was over; it was time to get serious. Husker Du and the Replacements were odds-on favorites to win; the Meat Puppets were expected to place or show. “Rolling Stone” deemed us only a couple tweaks away from greatness. We had begun to second-guess ourselves. Each Puppet accused the other of holding the band back. But everyone could agree that my sins were the greatest. I just didn’t seem to care anymore. I balked at the band’s direction. I rarely showed up for rehearsals. To be honest, the magic was draining out of it for me.
Things got a lot less fun as the year progressed. A week into the first leg of the tour, our sound man slammed Curt’s finger in a van door, breaking it in two places. Curt regained his dexterity in a few weeks, but the experience left us all shaken. The hastily-rebooked make-up dates were a punishing slog. Everywhere we went, disgruntled promoters complained about poor attendance. Finally, during the last show of the tour, we accidentally left all the cash earnings from the trip in our unlocked vehicle. We returned home flat broke.
I spent the next month hidden away, licking my wounds. My brother Damon offered some encouragement. You just have to keep practicing, he told me. Keep working on your instrument, keep getting better. Let the work lead the way. The rest will follow if you let it. I took his advice to heart. I moved out of the condemned duplex I was renting and in with friends. I bleached my hair, started working out, and tried to regain my confidence.
While I sulked, the Kirkwoods kept busy. They acquired a mixer, some microphones and an 8-track reel-to-reel tape recorder. Cris bought a drum machine and a headless bass with a graphite neck. Curt picked up a clumsy guitar synthesizer. As they got proficient with their new toys, the brothers began to woodshed material for the next album. Once I resurfaced, we decided it would be most productive if Cris and I got together by ourselves to work out the arrangements.
But just as he had with the songs on “Out My Way,” Curt kept a lot of the words and melodies to himself until we got into the studio. Once again, I had to comp along in the dark. Cris coached me through a lot of it, writing rhythm patterns and adding little bits of business that made the changes distinctive. But the material remained largely impenetrable to me.
I was also hamstrung by my equipment. Swept up in the general enthusiasm for new gadgets, I purchased an unwieldy midi drum set with triangular controllers and a library of awful samples. They were unforgiving and difficult to control, demanding intense concentration. My performances on that kit were tentative and lacking in spontaneity. I was never able to relax, let go and swing — something hard enough to do in the studio under the best of circumstances.
Once we got into the studio, we chafed under Chaton’s strict no-drug policy. We had to sneak behind the building to partake of our primary creative tool. But even under these oppressive conditions, we rose to the occasion. Outtakes from these sessions offer the best available insight into how the Meat Puppets constructed their music in the studio. Both brothers are excellent here: at once inventive and precise. For my part, I focused on keeping things simple. Listening to these recordings now, I’m struck by how good our studio chops actually were. We really stuck with it until we got it right.
But despite all the hard work and loving attention, “Mirage” is a flawed work. Though a growing core of self-described “Meat Heads” identified with our unabashed stoniness and manic fretboard antics, most listeners were unable to connect with the album’s lysergic themes and florid yet sterile production. Some of the better tunes didn’t even make it onto the album, deferred instead until “Huevos,” where they would receive their just due in a more energetic environment. But we scored with tracks like “Beauty,” “The Mighty Zero,” “A Hundred Miles,” and “Love Our Children Forever.” Other tracks, such as “Quit It,” “I Am A Machine” and the title track itself, have perhaps not aged so well.
Regardless, we grew by leaps and bounds during the creation of “Mirage.” We’d never worked so hard on an album, and after it was finished, we worked even harder. We converted Cris’ garage into a practice space; there, we really began to put on muscle. We reconnected as a working unit, throwing ourselves into rehearsals until we finally built the band up into the live act we wanted to be. Once we got “Mirage” out on the road in front of an audience, we quickly discarded the tunes that refused to catch fire. We substituted a batch of new Curt songs designed to be more fun for us and less challenging to the listener. I ditched the electronic drums and invested in a beautiful Gretsch kit, which I was able to play the shit out of.
Less than six months after the release of “Mirage,” we squeezed a studio session in between two legs of the tour, banged out ten new songs in three days, and released them almost as quickly. “Huevos” was funky, raw and loose — everything “Mirage” was not — and we were immensely pleased with it. Critical reception was tepid; speculation about our major label chances ceased. But we’d proven something to ourselves. The media didn’t understand where we were going, but we finally did. Over the years, as “punk” turned to “indie,” and then to “alternative,” the ground continued to shift and shrink beneath us. The “mainstream” became the only direction left. We continued to knuckle under, pushing ourselves along, browbeating each other into line and upping the ante. But no matter what we did, or how determined we were to polish it out, the magic remained. In the end, it was all we had.
Home Board Rehearsals: MirrorCreator | Mediafire
Home Multi-track Runthroughs: MirrorCreator | Mediafire
Studio Outtakes Part One: MirrorCreator | Mediafire
Studio Outtakes Part Two: MirrorCreator | Mediafire
Wait, all the drums on Mirage are MIDI drums?
“Mirage” has always been a difficult album for me to get into, though it does sparkle at times: “Get on Down,” “Love Our Children Forever,” and “Liquified” are definitely keepers. Of all your albums, this one feels the most “80′s” to me; it must be the electronic drums and synthesizers. On the other hand, “Huevos” is a great record! I came upon it before I discovered “MPII” or “Up on the Sun.” It was my favorite for a long time. Maybe “Mirage” is your Prince and Duran Duran record whereas, as is popularly reported, “Huevos” is your ZZ Top record.
Thanks for the post, Derrick.
MeatPuppets.The.1986.0000.ChatonStudios.Phoenix.AZ.02
Chaton Sessions, Part Two: “Mirage” Sessions”
I. “Mirage” Home Board Rehearsal
II. “Mirage” Home Multitrack Runthrough
III. “Mirage” Sessions 1 A. “Mirage” alternate mixes 1. A Hundred Miles [mix 1] 2. Leaves [more vocal echo on coda] 3. Liquified [drier vocal] 4. The Mighty Zero [quieter drums] xxxxx
IV. “Mirage” Sessions 2 21. Mirage (take 3) [guitar overdub] 22. Puppets Fire (Beauty) (take 1) 23. Puppets Fire (Beauty) (take 2) 24. I Am A Machine (take 1) 25. I Am A Machine (take 2) 26. I Am A Machine (take 3) 27. I Am A Machine (take 4) 28. I Am A Machine (take 5) 29. The Wind & The Rain (take 1) 30. The Wind & The Rain (take 2) 31. The Wind & The Rain (take 3) 32. Confusion Fog 33. The Mighty Zero 34. Liquified (take 1) 35. Liquified (take 2) 36. A Hundred Miles (take 1) 37. A Hundred Miles (take 2) 38. Love Our Children Forever (take 1) 39. Love Our Children Forever (take 2) 40. Grand Intro (Everything Is Green) [fragment] 41. Grand Intro (Everything Is Green) 42. Quit It (take 1) 43. Quit It (take 2) 44. Leaves
Look at you go, nerd! Thanks!
man, great entries…honestly, i’m pretty into mirage. it’s a very clean and slick sounding meat puppets record, definitely a one of a kind of the pup’s discog as all of the albums are. “leaves” and “get on down” (with the best music video of all time) are some of my personal fav’s, whenever i listen to “leaves” it puts out a vibe like i feel like i’m gliding through the air, due to the hi-hat work and all the reverb/echo on the guitar. when i first heard this album, my brother and i used to jam “mirage” on road trips all the time! but i can totally understand from the artists point of view. i’ve felt the same way when my bands recorded stuff.
“Huevos” i will agree is a GREAT album, so funky and loose! one of my top three pup albums up there with “MPII” and “up on the sun” i remember first listening to it and just immediately feelin’ it hard, especially on “bad love” with the opening guitar strumming, and the lyrics to “fruit”…so refreshing. i love the fact that it was recorded on kind of a whim first/second take style, it bleeds through the speakers when you hear it, but man ya’ll were tight on those takes. plus, aesthetically speaking the album and artwork, just looks great and really fits the vibe, ties it together. not sure if ZZ Top was or was not an influence on this album but you can definitely hear whispers of them in there.
oh yeah, almost forgot to mention the “huevos” demo tracks/outtakes…so raw and psychedelic, shoulda been an album of it’s own. the weird thing is after i’d fully gotten into “huevos”, i had an old issue of Forced Exposure from “88″, i was flipping through it one day and noticed a review of “huevos” wasn’t the best review, which actually totally pissed me off at the time, ha!…fuck it. its an amazing album and has totally tested the times, word up. enough of my yapping , just some personal thoughts. easter everywhere.
Joe — Thanks for the thoughtful comment!
totally
Re: the last paragraph about quickly recording Huevos:
I seem to recall reading something about how Curt had gotten word that Billy Gibbons was digging the Meat Puppets, and that sent Curt into a ZZ Top-inspired writing frenzy that ended up as Huevos.
Is that just folklore?
Also: I would like to add my voice to the chorus of longtime MP fans that love these reminiscences. Keep ‘em coming!
I don’t remember if this was true or not. I can tell you that about half of “Huevos” was written before or around the same time as “Mirage.”
thank you so much for sharin’ derrick!
So the Gibbon’s-letter-fueling-Curt legend (check the wikipedia page for Huevos) may be one of those iterated-into-truth statements? It’s been in print repeatedly and perhaps developed self-referential status -a rock-n-roll litmus!- so it’s interesting to hear the inside-scoop re the actual genesis. I was listening to Mirage just today and it’s yet another MP recording that makes me stop what I’m doing and plug in – the mimic of Curt’s licks being a two-decade hobby (have synth drums but am a crap drummer). I was just about finishing college when it was released and I remember being surprised at how much the band grew/changed/offered but I still saw a connect to UotS. It was cool because it implied “you don’t know what next to expect from us when you slit the wrapper and needle-drop, now do ya, challenge-ee?”, an invisible jacket sticker if not fan contract. It had a depth and was a grower. About the 3rd listen I was telling my circle, “you gotta hear this one, man. It seems mellower at first but it’s totally as great as the others. Yur gonna freak”. Listening party ensued, that Friday’s avant rock salon, arriving with my copy tucked under-arm for group consumption. All agreed – instant classic. It came out right at the same time as Locust Abortion Technician, Warehouse Songs & Stories (hmm, weird to think that the Huskers were ending but the Pups were expanding; false retrospection claims things were more concurrent), and Louder than Bombs. Those four are linked in my memory because I listened to them obsessively that spring/summer (and alongside Huevos a dozen more desert-islanders were released at the end of that best-year-in-music-history). I didn’t like television at the time; just music. Because I saw the pups once or twice a year, I can’t remember a specific supporting show for Mirage (I recall ONE of the ’87 and ’88 stops but time and being such a stoner…) and I don’t remember the synth-heads as part of your kit (so must have missed that leg) but do remember your Gretsch upgrade and definitely remember Curt’s ow-ee.
I understand when musicians have no distance from their own work but, even allowing for that acknowledgement, I reject your “flawed” assessment. Mirage aped no predecessor and left minds altered. How the fuck could a band -a 3-piece, uniquely self-supporter, no-less- concoct such an original album? Looking back through a lens of 25 years of college rock (as we called it at the time) is a pointless stat-counter. Taken on it’s own merits, Mirage offered proof of a concept we weren’t even aware was being thunk. In our minds the growth and skillz at this step put the band in the pantheon (Clash, Talking Heads, Huskers, J&MC, X, Damned, PIL, all the bands that made our lives technicolor). There was an obvious sense that the band wasn’t stopping on the Mirage plateau and was just offering a look-see, a project. You didn’t get that from most bands; you took the Pups oeuvre as a catalog-whole, “here’s Mirage and here’s how if fits relative to II, UotS, and OMW”. It’s standard to see your own recording projects as flawed; George Lucas syndrome. But listeners DID connect with this material. I’m curious what suggested otherwise – sure mainstream was, as always, a wasteland; you’re not referencing some MOR-based critics, right? Not one track ravaged by time; I still gift it. OK, just wanted to give the title some heads up.
Also interesting to hear your perspective on your instrument. I recall comparing your drumming to my era faves DJ Bonebrake, Mickey Hart, Budgie, Hurley and Shelley; and when asked to list would namecheck Bostrom. The material was well-served and the live show had plenty of elevating, percussion-focused wows. (Nothing wrong with giving you some honest due). Point being, drummers being who they are (insert trad joke here), seems not many would cop with the honesty in this rock story; that you were challenged by your bandmates input, for one. S’cool.
At some point it’d be revelatory to see your ranking list of Car, I, II, Sun, OMW, Mirage, Eggs, Monsters, Forbidden, High, & Joke. Also, what direction were you picturing; what style/atmosphere were you assuming the band would have circa ’88 (as opposed to the direction Curt took)?
I don’t want to suggest that “Mirage” was not a “challenging” work. Certainly we were far too prodigious not to delight listeners who were following the story. At the time, our previous work was taking on near legendary status, and the buzz surrounding both us and our peers was mounting. Probably, nothing we could have released would have satisfied the expectation of some camps. Best not to try, and we didn’t. Instead, we muddled through (prodigiously, of course). Each of us felt the pressure in our own way, measuring our efforts according to our own internal standards.
Every work must be judged according to its own standards, of course. And any can be enjoyed by any, based on any criterion. Those that shine brightest are the ones that can best communicate to the listener what those standards actually are. “Mirage” certainly succeeds in defining a detailed proscenium for itself. But to my mind, it hasn’t “aged well.” It feels non-essential. Indeed, where it truly succeeds is not so much “in the grooves,” but as a transitory work, one in which we struggled to define ourselves and move forward.
Sometimes, a work takes on a life of its own, succeeding despite the maker’s limited abilities and intentions. The maker has a disadvantage that a great work doesn’t. The artist is stuck in the moment. The work is, hopefully, for the ages. It’s a core paradox for all makers. The artist can hold his work too tightly, exert too much control, and the work will carry too much the imprint of the artist’s limitations. Best to leave as much room as possible for the “happy accident” and hope that it occurs. Sometimes it doesn’t, but you push on.
The Kirkwoods have always maintained a “none are fit to judge me” stance in respect to their work. They claim that everything they do is a gift (both to and from them) and discourage attempts to, as they say, “pick it apart.” I don’t share this view — I pick. Everything I do (this paragraph included) is measured according to multiple criteria, including but not limited to intent, execution, etc. Since a work is an immortal thing, it cannot be killed by scrutiny. On the contrary, it was created for scrutiny.
Curt: Some people don’t like being made fun of and some people don’t like being criticized, but I’ve always, especially back then, thought anybody who had an opinion about me good or bad was an asshole, and I really didn’t care. “Who the fuck asked you? You know what about me? What about you? Fuck you! Oh you like me? Who the fuck asked you?” It’s like, “Oh, validation. Wow. Thanks, God.”
Cris: It’s a little off putting to have classics because it means the rest of your work is what, shit? I like them all. People can keep their fucking opinions to themselves for all I care. I’ll get a little defensive. “Oh, our classics. What the fuck ever.” All of it’s fucking completely and totally great. “You do it Mr. Opinion haver.” The idea that some of it’s not as good or whatever. Have an opinion. I don’t care. I have an opinion about it and I’m in the band.
Curt: I talked to a guy recently who is a college professor in Utah, and he’s been doing talks on the band. He told me he’s written more than four hundred pages on my lyrics. I was like, “You spent more time writing about me than I spent writing the lyrics, man.”
absolutely stunning stories and sound thanks so much !!!
http://archive.org/search.php?query=subject%3A%22milocampo%22
here is a link to a bunch of meat puppets shows i uploaded to archive. ENJOY!