"interview" #1: golomb
New idea: If I can't find enough information about a cool little band to write about them in the newsletter I'll go interview them—like this
Hey, you probably know if you read the first post of this half-birthed newsletter that the point is not journalism (at all) but, instead, to share music in blurb review form.
This week, I (Jacob) wanted to to do that about these two songs with Jack:
They are from Golomb, a three-piece from Columbus, Ohio playing Sonic Youth-tinged rock. I think these songs are incredible—especially as a couplet. The tight punch of “White Tree” got me, particularly the subtle backing vocals on the chorus; then, surprisingly, the band descends (devolves?) into “Nyssa,” a drone guitar jam. The dissonance between these tracks works. They complement one another, and it led me into a bit of a fit: I listened to the two songs over and over.
I don’t think I’m alone here. I found the band from this tweet:
So, I figured the usual procedure would commence from there. Google around, read some articles, watch some videos—see if I have something to say about this music. But I discovered there’s almost nothing online about Golomb. The only thing I saw was a hyper-local article about the lead singer’s previous teenager-era band, Inner Mikey. (Their music? Also good.)
So, welcome to our new (maybe only one-time) series:
I Couldn’t Find Enough Information About a Band to Write About Them So I Just Called Them for a Pretty Weird Interview
We’ll call it “interviews” for purposes of clarity. Here’s “interviews” number 1: Mickey Shuman of Golomb.
The usual note: Interview edited/condensed for clarity. And the most important note: Email the band if you like their music and want to help them put it out, get shows, etc. Mickey is reachable at: golombmusic@gmail.com. He is sending around their demos, and trying to put the music out into the world. And it’s good music. Really good music.
Well this is the most random interview I think I’ve ever done in my life. So, bear with me.
All good.
So, how do you pronounce the name of the band?
Gawl-um. Like The Lord of the Rings guy. Or—I think you’re probably Jewish based on your name [editor’s note: it’s Jacob Rosenberg]—like the folktale creature.
Unfortunately, especially for me, my Dad’s Jewish but I was raised very Catholic—but I do know what you’re talking about.
Ha, okay.
Anyway, I was listening to y’all’s songs. They’re incredible. You have an album coming out soon, right?
Yeah, we recorded it over the last year. And just got the final masters back of it this week here.
Wait, how did you find? What was the tweet, you said? I’m so curious.
I’ll send it to you. I think it was Jen Powers, or her husband, Matthew Rolin.
Oh cool!
They just said they loved your band.
Wow, that’s so cool.
Then I was trying to read about y’all and all I could find was stuff about Inner Mikey. I mean, this is just me being an absolute psycho. But because there was nothing written about you, I figured: I'll just email and see what the what the hell this band is.
So, let me ask some basic questions. When did y’all start the band? Who is in it?
It’s me and Xenia, my girlfriend. She plays bass and sings as well. We were playing with our friend Zach probably three years ago, or maybe four years ago. I guess you would probably have looked at the Bandcamp more recently—so, whenever that EP came out was when we were playing. [Editor’s note: I had looked more recently and did remember; it was three years ago].
And then there’s that live performance thing. [Editor’s note: It’s simply titled 8-29-19. The song “I Want to Play Music” is not on the EP, but it’s mostly just fantastic live versions of the self-titled EP.]
And then me and Xenia moved—we moved to L.A. for like six or seven months.
Then we moved back during COVID.
We started living at her folks place, with her younger brother, who now plays drums. March 20 was when I think we got back to Ohio. And now that was two years ago—which is crazy. Pretty much two years is how long it’s being going in this iteration. It’s final form, I suppose.
Let me ask about the songs that got me. I was listening to the “White Tree.” And then it breaks in “Nyssa.” Ni-ass-a? Is that how you say it?
I think it’s Nica-A. Yeah, Nice-A.
That’s how I pronounce it in my head.
Now, I’m saying it outloud for the first time, because I haven’t really said it to anyone else—because I think like four other people have listened to it.
Yeah, I know this is weird. But, anyway, “Nyssa” breaks from the first song in this crazy way. It goes rock to like a drone, guitar jam thing. What were the inspirations there?
Oh, man, I’m just like obsessed with the Velvet Underground. And like Sonic Youth. The most basic hipster answers.
The Sonic Youth comes through heavy.
We listened to so much stuff though. I only found at the Beatles were good like three years ago. So, the Beatles, Can.
In general, as we’ve moved along the songs have gotten more simplified—digging more into the expansive. Or, what’s the right word? Like, kind of finding a focal point and digging into that. Instead of trying to write complex or pop-y things, more so: digging into the simpler side and seeing what there is to explore there.
How old are you by the way?
I’m 23. Xenia’s 23. And Hawkin, the drummer, is 19.
Okay. I’m 28. I guess I’m not old but it still feels like, Jesus Christ, you’re young. So you graduated from high school…
And really just worked and played music for a few years before we moved to LA.
What kind of jobs?
Just coffee, food. That was prior to moving to LA. And then I moved there. I have some friends who run a clothing company out there. That was predominately why I moved out there.
I thought I had this cool job awaiting me—which, it was semi-cool—but tie-dyeing shirts eight hours a day turns out to not, actually, be that cool.
Then you moved back to Columbus?
Well, Xenia was also attending culinary school out there. And I had just gotten a second job the month before COVID swept across the world. Then, we both lost our jobs. Her school shut down.
We also just didn’t know what was happening. We thought the world was going to end.
So, we were like: We should probably hang out with our family—not our roommate—while the world crumbles.
I was an adult when that happened. It was two or three years ago. So, you were like 20. That must’ve been even more insane? You wrote this music during that? What was that like as a person?
It was kind of—it was weird. I was playing a little music. I actually wrote like half the record the last few months I was living there. And then wrote the rest when I moved back.
But, I don’t know. LA’s kind of weird. It made me appreciate what I’ve got going on here. We’re fortunate enough to have a safe place to return to and have some family support to help us move back across the country during that. But, yeah, I don’t know—it was wacky.
I lost my jobs out in LA, and then I started working for this construction company here [in Columbus] after a month or two of not working. So, all the sudden I could pay my rent in LA if I worked here, but I wasn’t sure if I would be able to get a job in LA if I went back. It was a weird scenario.
You said earlier “what I have here.” You know, I have no conception of what that means. Is there a scene in Columbus? Does your music feel on the radar there at all?
No, I don’t feel like it is on the radar at all. Except for the copious amount of emails I’ve sent to places trying to show people the demos we just recorded. I don’t feel that strongly about the music scene here, to be honest. I more so just mean: I can afford to live here, go out and get food, do things I enjoy. Rather than just working all day to go home to a place that costs an absurd amount.
I think there’s a hustle out there [in LA] that for some people is beneficial but… I like space.
I live in New York, and I can’t afford to do a lot of fun stuff I’d like, even with a job. And I was talking about that with a friend last night: How can you even imagine anyone but rich kids making art somewhere like here? It wasn’t exactly like that when I lived in Arkansas or North Carolina.
I mean there’s no like—except maybe in the 60s or the 70s—but, yeah, post that era…there’s not as much music coming out of places like that. It’s coming out of places where boredom is prominent.
And, also too, it’s just fucking cheaper here.
Exactly. Well, let me ask you about a few songs. So, yesterday, I listened to Starfish (demo). We can start there.
That’s cool that you listened to that. Again. Because, yeah, no one has listened to that.
Let me be very clear: I listened to it ten times in a row yesterday.
Cool.
So, how did you come up with that?
I came up with that three note riff. Then, we literally played it for 10 minutes. And I was like: Oh, I should probably get my phone and record us playing this. So, that was the second time we played it. And we’ll sometimes warm up before practice and play that. But, otherwise, it’s just like we played it once. We’ve never played it at a show. It’s not on the album. But I was just like: Damn, this is—this feels pretty good. I could share this.
I mean, yeah, I clearly like it a lot.
Okay, another question: How do you write lyrics for these songs?
Well, when I’m out and about I’ll hear some phrase that strikes me as interesting. And I’ll write it down in my phone.
So you start with a notes app list of strangers’ weird phrases that you basically turn into lyrics?
Yeah.
And then, somehow or another, they present themselves with some sort of narrative that I don’t purposefully—it’s not intentional. Then, all of sudden, it’s like: This has a clear narrative and reason to be here.
There are also like 300 or 400 voice memos in my phone. Things I’ll never use. But I have got to get it out one way or another.
That’s cool. Alright, my last question is basically: Do you have a label? I don’t know enough about music to know how this works. But do you have someone putting this music out? Or are you just sending it around?
Sending it around, that’s pretty much what I’ve been trying to do the past week. Since we actually got the final mixes and stuff. Just spamming people.I got one “no” so far.
What did the “note” say?
Oh no—I got a “no.”
Oh fuck, sorry man.
No, it’s okay. [Laughs]. I was impressed I even got a response.
Well, those are all the questions I have. I feel sort of silly here. I just heard the music, loved it, and it felt like a cool secret. I figured I’d call you. Anything anyone should know if they like your music?
Oh, I don’t know.
Is this the weirdest interview you’ve ever done? Top 10?
For sure top 10 because I’ve only done one other one.
You did a great job. I think we’ve embarassed ourselves surprisingly little.