he four men of Washington D.C.'s Dismemberment Plan are getting along just fine, thanks. It's just that after a decade-long run — including four albums and a handful of EPs; a courtship with and dumping by Interscope Records; opening spots for Pearl Jam and Death Cab for Cutie (the "Death and Dismemberment Tour," natch); and a hell of a lot of time spent in the back of a van, a little dismembering didn't seem like such a bad idea. In September, the band releases a posthumous album of sorts, A People's History of the Dismemberment Plan, which is a compilation of songs remixed by their fans. Nerve spoke to frontman Travis Morrison as the band wound up its farewell tour. — Kerry Miller

promotion

I found a death-and-dismemberment plan that will pay out for loss of speech, loss of sight, or severance of hands or feet. If you had to pick one of those, which would you go for?
Probably loss of sight. Sight is kind of like the bonus sense. It helps a lot, but I'd much rather be able to feel and hear and move and smell, than see.

I guess for a musician, that makes sense. I actually grew up in the D.C. area, which I hated. Do you still have the suburban kid complex?
I don't really have that because I grew up in Alexandria, and that's a little more of an extension of the urban landscape. I mean when I was eleven, twelve, I was taking buses into the Air and Space Museum all the time. I was kind of shocked when I was transported out to Fairfax (for high school) and I saw what was out there — there's no public transportation, you had to drive everywhere, there are these subdivisions? So I don't really have any kind of suburban malaise. I have anger; I was pissed that I was out there. And I was glad to leave.

And you said you went to the Air & Space Museum?
Yeah! I love the Air & Space Museum.

"In a band, you can't tell anyone to do shit. So you try to hack out a collective vision."

I guess that's the most popular one in the Smithsonian, but I was never really feeling it.
It's the most popular one in the world! Yeah, I was really into space, and air.

Well I guess you went to the right place. I do have a lot of good memories of seeing you guys at the Black Cat though.
(laughs) We were the only good thing about Washington. It's true.

I always appreciated that you look like you're having a good time on stage. There are so many disaffected headphone bands that just stand there and look bored. It's like, "Come on, you're in a fucking rock band, what are you doing?"
Headphone bands. I like that. Headphone bands. I feel like we're normal, and it's the other bands that should be asked what's wrong. I think that for most art that comes from people that are from a place of privilege, there's nothing particularly exciting about a pose of gratitude or enthusiasm or interest. Whereas Wilson Pickett was probably very interested in contentment cause he didn't know much growing up.

So what are your post-Plan plans, after this tour is finished?
Two of the guys are just tired of being in the van, and they're going to get out of big-time music, even though they'll continue to play around D.C. And then Eric (Axelson, bassist) is playing with the guys from Promise Ring, and I am doing some solo stuff.

So what can you do as a soloist that you couldn't do as a band? Besides, you know, take all the credit.
Well, that. It's kind of a weird thing where you can't take all the blame, and that's the main thing I want. I want to have accountability for the records. And that does involve having a place of leadership where you can say, Look, I want you to play this snare, cause it sounds really good. In a band, you can't tell anyone to do shit. So you try to hack out a collective vision from what happens when you get together and you just play. And that can be really exciting but it also has a certain shelf life. You get a couple albums out of it, and then either you grow or you die. And we were reaching a point where there wasn't a whole lot of enthusiasm for pushing on and finding inspiration, so we said, well, why don't we just leave the existing records as a statement of what we are when we get together and make noise. With a band you have a sound and you try to document it. With a solo record, you kind of go out searching for it.

So how is the sound of the solo album going to change?
My solo record's going to be all over the place. It's very organic feeling. There are a lot of woody textures to it like piano and acoustic guitar. It's very rollicking — it's very much uptempo and fun and bouncy, but it's not electronic or electric. It's not that it sounds unplugged — it's not like I slowed down and got sensitive. If anything the songs are less about my feelings than they have been for a long time. But that's just this one — I want to make all kinds of different records.

Last time I spoke with Eric I brought up Buddyhead's rules of rock , which condemns both beards and the use of the words "theory," "project" or "plan" in a band name. And he said the more we run counter to Buddyhead's rules the better off we are as a band. True?
Well, you can just look at where Buddyhead is now, and where we are now. I think the results are plain to see.

So was the tour your victory lap?
Yeah, I think it's the icing on the cake. The live arena was where we did our best work and we did one last tour to kind of honor that. For the Beatles it was Abbey Road, the one final album, and for us, it's one final tour.

So is this really one of those elusive amicable break-ups?
Yeah, I don't know why people don't believe us. I'm just going to start telling people, No, we fight all the time. Just cause I can't take it anymore.  

   

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