Interviews: Norman Brannon talks to Rob Fish (Part 2)

To celebrate the release of The Anti–Matter Anthology: A 1990s Post–Punk & Hardcore Reader and the imminent book release show/Snapcase Reunion/Callum Robbins benefit, we are publishing a two part interview from hardcore vets Norman Brannon and Rob Fish.

The two musicians – Norm of Texas is the Reason and Shelter and Rob Fish of 108 look back at the hardcore scene which spawned the book, remembering famous shows and anecdotes and more.

Norm put together a lengthy interview for us so we're splitting it over two days. Check it out and be sure to visit The Music Hall of Williamsburg in Brooklyn, New York this weekend to check out the book, watch Snapcase play and help out Callum and J. Robbins.

If you need to catch up, you can check out the previous chapter here.

You can click Read More for the Part 2.

NORMAN: I really do believe that if you took the
names out and put a Snapcase interview next to a Shudder To Think interview,
you’d have to really think about who was talking.

ROB: I believe that.

NORMAN: It’s funny. I think that direction was
influenced by something that most people don’t know about me, which is that I
had already sold my entire hardcore record collection in 1991 — two
years before Anti-Matter. When I lived with you in 1992, I didn’t own anything. And that basically meant that, honestly, I didn’t listen to
hardcore music. So in 1993, when I started the zine, all I had to go on was the
personal experience: Who was at the shows? What bands
were playing? Who did I think was cool? Who did I think had something good to
say — even if I didn’t necessarily care for their band? There were
totally bands in Anti-Matter that, honestly, I was not necessarily a fan of
musically. I was more of a fan conceptually, you know? So I think the reason
why I never talked about the music in Anti-Matter was because I didn’t really listen to the
music that much. I went to the shows. It was about the community and the scene
and the people I was meeting. And obviously, some of those bands were
incredible; they are still some of my favorite bands. But I didn’t want to
relegate the fanzine to my personal tastes in music. I wanted to figure out who
had an interesting story to tell.

ROB: That’s a lot like how I relate to bands
today. I mean, there are bands that I love to watch. Are they on my iPod? Some
of them. Do I listen to them much? Not really. But when I see them live, I know
the people a little bit and I can really sense how true the music is to that
person, and it makes me absolutely love the band that I’m seeing. The majority
of bands that I promote a lot are bands that I can see are really investing
their very being to the music they’re playing. So even if I don’t necessarily
want to listen to it in my car all the time, I can still absolutely love the
band and love what they do. That goes back to the whole nostalgia thing: Like,
I got to see that whole American
Hardcore movie, and I’d say
that everything up until the last ten minutes was cool. But when it got to
those last ten minutes, I wanted to break my fucking computer. I walked away
going, "I hate these people!" They’re so bitter and disillusioned and they just
think the whole punk rock world revolved around their silly little band. And
it’s like, yeah, your band was cool, but I’ll never be able to listen to it the
same way now because you’re such an egocentric piece of shit about it.

I want these shows to really reflect something that I cared about — not out of some weird ‘90s nostalgia thing, but because these are good things, whether it’s 1994 or 2007. Talking to each other or breaking down that artificial wall, those will always be good things.

NORMAN: I didn’t see it. I kind of refuse to. What
was in those last ten minutes?

ROB: Oh, you know, some dudes basically saying,
"Oh, hardcore died in 1986 and these kids just aren’t the same!" And I’m like,
yeah, it’s changed, you idiot! And yeah, the music’s changed. Even as much as I
love Black Flag, if all I heard were bands trying to sound like The First Four Years, I would have left the punk scene fifteen
years ago. Who the fuck wants to hear that again and again?

NORMAN: Right.

ROB: To me, when I look back at those bands, it’s
not the music that was so amazing as much as remembering how I felt the first
time I heard it — and how I still relate to that today. That’s
what’s important. Sometimes I’ll be at a kid’s house on tour and I’ll see these
old records that I used to listen to when I was younger, and I’ll be like, "Oh,
I used to love this record!" And then I’ll hear it and be like, "What the fuck
was I thinking?" But then I realize that it was because of the people and the
places and what it meant to me at that moment, and so I can appreciate it on
that level. There are a bunch of bands now that are reunited, that we’ve been
playing some of them, and honestly, I don’t always feel a kinship to some of
these bands because they seem so bitter and disillusioned about how things are
"so different now." I’m like, fuck. It’s gotta be different.

NORMAN: 108 took how much time off from breaking up
to reforming?

ROB: Almost ten years.

NORMAN: Right. And that’s a long time. Surely, you
and Vic didn’t think you would be walking back into whatever you walked out of.

ROB: And the thing was we didn’t want to. The whole thing was that if it was just going
to be about playing those old songs and trying to rekindle that — none of
us were into that. We can’t emotionally invest ourselves in that. Because,
really, doing this band is not easy for us to do between all our kids and
careers and the fact that we all live in different parts of the country. So we
all felt really strongly that if we couldn’t write a record that meant more to
us than our old songs did, then why would we even bother?

NORMAN: When we were doing those Texas is the Reason
reunion shows last year, obviously, the big question we were getting was, "Are
you going to stay together?" All of the sudden, there were precedents set
— specifically with you guys and Lifetime. And I’m not gonna lie to you.
We talked about it. We were having fun, even before the shows, and I think we
sounded better than we ever did. But most of my personal reservations came from
the idea of making new music under that name. I didn’t like the idea of being
chained to a blueprint that I made ten years ago, you know? That terrified me.
So I really wondered how you guys were gonna deal with that. And I was so
psyched to hear [A New Beat
From A Dead Heart] because I
don’t really feel like you’re writing songs like you did back then. To me, the
new 108 record is very fucking different. It’s like a different band.

ROB: Right, well, back then Vic was the primary
songwriter. With this record, there were four people who wrote songs on it.
There was no main songwriter. But when I really think about, I think it goes
back to what we were talking about before. Back then, we were really living on
our terms. We could do whatever we wanted to do in our personal lives. But, for
me, right now, I would say that my life is more manic and desperate than it
ever was before. And I would say that Trivikrama would echo that, and I think
Vic would echo that. That’s translated into the songs, too. I mean, we
practically wrote the new album in three practices [laughs]!

NORMAN: I think we’re both at a point where we’re
looking into our pasts with new eyes and trying to figure out how it’s relevant
to us today.

ROB: Absolutely. You know, a lot of how I judge a
band these days all boils down to one question: If this person wasn’t playing this show tonight, would he be
fucking devastated? That’s the
standard I hold for myself. That’s what I mean when I talk about the whole American Hardcore movie. These pompous pieces of shit are on
there, and just because it doesn’t mean as much to them now, they project that
on the entire world. I resent that.

NORMAN: So is there anything you want to ask me?

ROB: God, I was just thinking about our old
interview. What the fuck did I say?

NORMAN: [Laughs] Most of it was about your mother’s death,
which I think was a very present topic in your mind at that time.

ROB: It’s going to be a little surreal to read it,
I think. Lately, my son has been asking a little bit about his grandmother. But
I really don’t remember much. I remember a lot of traumatic or negative or sad
things, but yeah, it kind of sucks. I don’t remember a lot of the good things.

NORMAN: I remember at the time feeling like you
didn’t talk about it that much. I knew that you seemed fairly uncomfortable
about it, and I knew that Ressurection had that song "Fuck Your Sympathy." I
remember reading the lyrics to that song before I joined your band and feeling
weird about it. Like, I understood the grief, but I didn’t know where the anger
was coming from.

ROB: That song is still very vivid to me in terms
of why I wrote it. But remembering the person is not really easy for me.

NORMAN: And going back to what I was saying before
about getting other people to tell my story, so to speak? Obviously, to me, when I
think about our interview, I was essentially trying to talk about my best
friend who had died in a car accident the same year that your mother passed. I
was also dealing with that grief, and talking to you about your mother was my
attempt to reflect on that.

ROB: Shit, I gotta read that interview now [laughs].

NORMAN: So I guess we could end by talking about the
Anti-Matter Anthology Book Release Parties coming up [on November 24 & 25
at the Music Hall of Williamsburg in Brooklyn, NY]. You guys are playing with
Snapcase, Triple Threat, and Soul Control.

ROB: The one thing that I think is really cool is
that you are doing this show to celebrate the book, but even more important
than that, you’re raising money for Cal Robbins by doing it. I mean, when I
think back to that time period, there were so many great benefits. There was a
point for Ressurection when it seemed like every show we played was a benefit
for homeless people or something [laughs]. But that to me is really cool. Going to a
hardcore show is great, but it’s even better when you go to a hardcore show to
support a really cool cause. These shows, the entire environment around the
shows, the bands, the people involved — it just seems like a very fitting
way to celebrate that book, to talk about how punk rock is
a community. Like I’ve never met J. Robbins. I don’t think a lot of kids in the
crowd will know too much about Government Issue or Jawbox. But there’s
definitely a genuine feeling that J. is a person who is important to a lot of
people and important to punk music, and this is a way to give back and be
grateful about something.

Some dude's basically saying, "Oh, hardcore died in 1986 and these kids just aren’t the same!" And I’m like, yeah, it’s changed, you idiot! And yeah, the music’s changed. Even as much as I love Black Flag, if all I heard were bands trying to sound like The First Four Years, I would have left the punk scene fifteen years ago. Who the fuck wants to hear that again and again?

NORMAN: I totally agree. I mean, obviously, J.
Robbins had a huge impact on my life. He made the Texas is the Reason album
for, like, $500 or something. Ours was the second record he ever produced. I
know what it’s like to be an entrepreneur or have your own business and barely
get paid. And he’s here, he’s still making records. He gets paid a little more
now, but he’s out there doing it for himself. And I don’t want anybody to ever
feel like that’s the wrong decision. I want people to feel like they can pursue
their passions and still take care of their families. So if that means that
they receive a little help from their friends, then that’s what I’m here for. I
want to help. That was a huge part of it, because that theme of community is
kind of what makes the book important to me.

ROB: As a father, I couldn’t even imagine being in
that situation, so it means a lot to be able to contribute something towards
that.

NORMAN: It’s exciting for me because there are so
many great objectives with these shows. For one, we get to raise money for Cal.
But after that, I want it to feel like a party. I want people to walk in and
smile and be happy and feel like it’s a celebration. I want the audience and
the bands to have some fun with it. The Music Hall is big enough to feel like
you’re at an event, but it’s intimate enough to feel like you could introduce
yourself to someone or maybe make a new friend. I plan on being out in the
audience as much as I can, personally. I want these shows to really reflect
something that I cared about — not out of some weird ‘90s nostalgia
thing, but because these are good things, whether it’s 1994 or 2007. Talking to
each other or breaking down that artificial wall, those will always be good things.