Known unknown

Ruban Nielson brings his Portland-based band Unknown Mortal Orchestra to Dunedin next week. Photo...
Ruban Nielson brings his Portland-based band Unknown Mortal Orchestra to Dunedin next week. Photo Sam Clark.
Nielson is leaving more of the psychedelia and maximum R&B to the music. Photo by Neil Krugas.
Nielson is leaving more of the psychedelia and maximum R&B to the music. Photo by Neil Krugas.

Written almost entirely on tour, Unknown Mortal Orchestra's second album, II, is an extremely personal record of Ruban Nielson's life on the road. Sam Valentine talks to the songwriter and guitarist.

Unknown Mortal Orchestra (UMO), songwriter and guitarist Ruban Nielson creates what he calls psychedelic maximum R&B.

First coming to prominence two years ago after releasing a (fittingly) near-anonymous Bandcamp single and subsequent self-titled debut album, UMO tore through the internet hype machine.

Nielson, a former Mint Chick, had planned to leave music behind entirely following the demise of the award-winning band, taking work as a graphic and visual artist in Portland, Oregon.

But after intense label attention, Nielson's desire to support his family won out.

However, the rapid success came coupled with a demanding and hectic 18-month tour schedule, leaving a constantly en route Nielson exhausted, disillusioned, and contemplating his own life, sanity and health in a climate of self-destruction, chemical excess, and loneliness.

Emerging from this period of late nights, and what his label press release dubbed ''rampant hedonism'', the band's sophomore album II, was released on American indie heavyweight Jagjaguwar in February this year.

Written almost entirely during the tour in support of the self-titled debut album and loosely sequenced around the hours from dusk till dawn, II is an extremely personal record of Nielson's life and trials on the road.

While his debut matched warm production with sunny guitar hooks, II is an album of bleary-eyed bad vibes.

Whether discussing exhaustion (Swim and Sleep (Like a Shark) or drug usage (One at a Time), Nielson's life is woven so tightly into the unwinding and fraying seams of his album, it's almost impossible to speak about one without discussing the other.

Lyrically confronting both his self-destructive behaviour during this period and the barriers to both his personal happiness and family success (Nielson is married and has two children), it's a record written about the desperation of living.

Since the album's release, the hectic touring schedule has hardly abated, with Nielson and bandmates, bassist Jacob Portrait and drummer Riley Geare, travelling across the US and Europe already this year, taking in Australia and New Zealand this month, before returning for a second pass of the US and Europe immediately after.

It's on a brief break from the constant movement that I catch Nielson on the phone from his basement-recording studio in Portland.

Speaking to Nielson is an all-together mellowing experience.

Softly spoken, gentle, and shy, Nielson is modest and nonchalant across our 40-minute conversation.

Answering my call late due to his son ''freaking out'' at home, Nielson seems surprised when I thank him for his time and apologise for interrupting what must be a welcome yet brief return to normality after being on the road.

''Oh, ha, cool,'' he laughs awkwardly.

''Thanks for talking to me.''

As talk quickly turns to touring, it appears Nielson is still partially living the lifestyle he wrote about on II.

''There's not much way it can't be kind of like that, but I take measures to make it not so crazy as it was,'' he says.

''Like, you're on tour so there's no way of getting out of it completely.

"I guess I thought it was like a work ethic really, like I was gonna work hard and play hard, and do everything that was available.

"But now, I have more structure. I have a manager now that builds days off and stuff into the schedule, and like that kinda helps keep everything a bit saner.

"And there are certain chemicals that I don't do any more (laughs).

''I'm less weighed down [than when I was writing the record] but I'm not out of control. I was actually not with it, y'know. I find it kind of hard to just go out on the road and just do the job, like play the shows and then go home and watch Netflix.

"I find that drives me crazy even quicker. You get like a month of sanity then you start doing weird stuff.

"If you let the tour be what it is, you get like two weeks. It doesn't pay to be sensible on the road (laughs).''

The unstable nature of the songs on II has also found its way into Nielson's interviews surrounding the album, into which Nielson has brought a confessional and morbid honesty.

It's led to the musician comparing them to therapy sessions on more than one occasion.

''I was in this state at the time where I was just kind of going for it,'' Nielson muses.

''I was thinking, if I'm going to do this, I'm just gonna do it as hard as I can do it.

"And at one point, I kind of thought that, OK if you do this, that's how you end up dead ... at the time I was like OK, so be it.

"That's me. I'll be that guy, whatever. That's my destiny.

"That's how I was approaching interviews as well. I was like, well, this is what I'm doing and here's the truth.

''I suppose I can't really talk without being honest. I'm either being really honest or I'm not talking. If I don't want to be honest, I just don't do interviews.

"So sometimes I do that, and shut up, but I wouldn't really do an interview where I'll be lying about anything really.''

For Nielson these truths included a need to quit abusing cocaine.

I ask whether he's worried people might react negatively to some of this information.

''I'm not worried about negative reactions to honest information, y'know?

''There's certain people in my family that I don't want to stress out, like my wife's parents and stuff. I don't want to stress them out.

"I don't want them to think their daughter is, like, married to an insane person or something. But my family, the Nielson side, they've seen it all, so it's not like I'm trying to hide anything from my mum or my dad.

"They're not shocked by anything really. They've seen how being a musician goes. I'm worried about being misunderstood, more than anything else.

"That's my biggest fear. I don't like being disliked for something that isn't true.
"But I don't mind a person not liking me for something that's true, I don't mind that at all.''

For Nielson, the drive to make another UMO album also helped him leave more of the psychedelia and maximum R&B for the music, and a little less for between gigs.

''The only reason that I went beyond that was because I wanted to make another album,'' Nielson says.

''I actually went 'hang on, I don't want to die now. I've got to think about my next album'.

"Maybe I'll die after the next record,'' he says with a laugh.

Nielson has been writing songs consistently and plans to devote much of next year towards making his third album.

With his confidence increased, and with a strong sense of what he wants to achieve with the project, Nielson also believes he may be open to working with collaborators, after completing his first two records almost exclusively alone.

Recently, on a whirlwind visit to London, the band did a small session with Mark Ronson, a producer notable for his work on Amy Winehouse's Back to Black.

''I thought Mark would be cool to work with because the Amy Winehouse record was such a cool-sounding record,'' Nielson says.

''It was my first experience with having a producer do his thing and seeing them produce their sound. It was like whoa, this sounds like Mark Ronson ...

''I kinda forget that people like that are actually famous, y'know. I always just think about music, I don't really care that there's GQ's most fashionable man of the year (laughs).

But he's famous. I mention that we recorded with Mark Ronson and people are impressed on this whole other level that has nothing to do with music.''

Though he's now in contact with many of the music industry's higher-profile names, Nielson continues to reach out to rising, or more ''unknown'' acts.

In 2010, while still based in New Zealand, Nielson curated a ''No More Blogs'' page on which he featured up-and-coming names in New Zealand music.

Still loyal to the lively antipodean scene, Nielson has handpicked Auckland four-piece Las Tetas as local support for the tour.

''I think that's really important and I was really into it in the Mint Chicks,'' Nielson says.

''I'm always searching for the right people to play with and choosing a band that's going to actually make sense.

"You can get too political y'know, it can get to the point where these arranged marriages happen ...

"A lot of bands I think don't care. I really like touring with bands that haven't started to get recognised yet.

''In New Zealand some of the best bands don't get a whole lot of help.

"There's a lot of crappy stuff that gets money from the Government and gets all this help, y'know, but it's just garbage.

"And there's this other more legit music and it has to support itself. I feel kind of bummed out that I'm so far away from it.''

The last time Nielson played in Dunedin was in 2010 with his previous band the Mint Chicks.

A day after that show during a performance in Auckland, in what would be the band's final performance, Ruban's brother Kody paused in the middle of their fourth song and began to destroy the band's gear while uttering the now infamous line ''start your own f***ing band''.

Three years on, I jokingly ask if there's any chance something similar might happen to UMO following their performance here next Thursday. Nielson laughs at the suggestion.

''I can't really leave UMO, people can leave UMO, but I'm stuck here.''

 

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