The new saviour of rock ‘n’ roll?

Following the Vaccines last year, now it is the turn of Howler to save rock ‘n’ roll. The irresistibly infectious garage rock of their debut, America Give Up, created quite a buzz in a very short space of time. But is the US group really worthy of all that fuss? It’s not like they have invented sliced bread: if you peel off the layers of their sound you find yourself burrowing back through music history. The Strokes are the closest thing to them, but you can also hear the nonchalant pub rock of the Libertines. Woolly guitars recall My Bloody Valentine’s wall of sound, while Jordan Gatesmith’s singing sounds like an echo of Joey Ramone. In the bittersweet melodies there is something of girl groups like the Shangri-Las. Jordan Gatesmith, a lanky nineteen-year old beanpole, shrugs his shoulders: “You can’t ignore the past. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t add anything any more. Maybe not as groundbreaking as when the Rolling Stones wrote ‘Under My Thumb’ fifty years ago. But I do think you can still find something new.”
Do you listen to a lot of old stuff?
Jordan Gatesmith: Yes. I keep going further back. I find it hugely interesting to delve in the history pop music. Via the Internet, sure, but I have always hung around a lot in record shops, where I would go rummaging in the marked-down racks. I have a ridiculous CD collection.
What is your most recent discovery?
Gatesmith: Roy Brown, an R&B singer from the 1940s and 1950s. I was really blown away when I discovered him. He has a song called “Butcher Pete”, recorded in 1949, but so rock ‘n’ roll. Sadly, not many people seem to know him.
You come from Minneapolis. And Minneapolis means…
Gatesmith: Hüsker Dü! The Replacements! I was a total Minneapolis sucker. The Replacements was my first favourite band. I thought they wrote terrific pop songs, but they concealed that by covering them with a thick layer of dirt. They took you for a ride.

The title of your EP, This One’s Different, is pure irony. Is America Give Up ironic too?
Gatesmith: No, that is actually a statement! [laughs] We thought that title was hilarious: “give up”, in our jargon, means the same as “fuck off”. So, yes, America sucks! You can look at the album this way: Bruce Springsteen’s Born in the USA, but written by Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers. It is a heavy statement, but also very sarcastic and backhanded at the same time. [smiles]
I feel pretty lost in this vast country. When you get to eighteen you are expected to make big choices. To be a fully-fledged citizen you have to have a proper job, but you can only get that if you study. And that is a fucking rip-off. You saddle yourself with debts that you will never be able to repay. America is built on debt.
Pretty heavy stuff, which you alternate with meaningful songs like “Beach Sluts”...
Gatesmith: [laughs] It is one of those goofy songs about a lonely guy longing for something easy. I wrote that one very quickly, like a good song should be written. As Hank Williams said: if a song can’t be written in 20 minutes, it ain’t worth writing.

Howler 9/2, 20.00,
ANCIENNE BELGIQUE, boulevard Anspachlaan 110, Brussel/Bruxelles,
02-548.24.24, info@abconcerts.be, www.abconcerts.be