Lazy Daze
Graves’ Greg Olin talks fried chicken, growing up and listening to Phish.
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[October 3rd, 2007]
Remember that scene in High Fidelity where John Cusack’s character says, “I will now sell five copies of The Three E.P.’s by the Beta Band,” and confidently plays said album over his record store’s stereo? Everyone starts bobbing their heads, and one customer says, “Who is this? It’s good.” That’s exactly the response Graves’ new record, Seldom Slumber, has elicited from, well, anyone I’ve played it for.
The music, like its creator, Californian-cum-Portlander Greg Olin, is instantly likable, warm and laid-back. It sounds something like how a cat stretching across a sun-baked windowsill must feel. And, judging by the fact that Olin—who was nursing a cold at the time of our interview—thinks fried chicken and jojos (super-thick fried potato wedges) might be “a good cold remedy,” the guy knows a thing or two about comfort. Amid the taxidermied animals and fishing poles of Southeast Division’s Reel ’M Inn tavern, Olin, 31, explains how Graves—which is rounded out by bassist Nate Ashley, drummer Brian Wright and trumpeter-keyboardist Cory Gray—achieves such a chill, lazy-day sound.
“In my recordings, it’s usually whoever’s around,” says Olin. “A friend, or a friend’s girlfriend…I get people into recording that don’t necessarily play music. I think that adds a cool element, a naturalness that is hard to get when everybody’s really good.” Such a strategy might sound destined for disaster, but with Olin at the helm, those recordings—most recently Seldom Slumber (Graves’ fifth proper release)—are masterpieces of laze. And they’re impressively eclectic, to boot: Among the tracks on Slumber alone, Olin’s loungy pop numbers feature jazz-fueled guitar, bossa nova-inspired percussion, keys à la the Napoleon Dynamite soundtrack, lackadaisical melodica and sensual, almost mournful trumpet.
Though Olin’s lyrics come across as nonsensical or stream-of-consciousness at first, it’s exactly such hands-offedness that’s appealing on a primordial level. “If I get the right buzz,” Olin says, “I’ll say some mumbo jumbo and it turns out to be some cool shit.”
The cool mumbo jumbo on Slumber includes Olin pontificating on everything from “dirty love” (a common theme) and getting high in the park to wasting a day watching cartoons. But even though the majority of “Television,” for instance, is spent repeating the line, “All I know is I love cartoons,” over layers of percussion and a relaxed, swinging beat, Olin’s got more going on than veg-outs and Bugs Bunny.
In fact, he recently earned a graduate degree in special education and started “being professional”—a role he feels he’s still “faking.” But Olin admits that his time in grad school, and at his current teaching gig in Gresham, has proven more productive than the seven years he took off to “do music.” “When I have too much time on my hands,” he explains, “I just piss it all away.”
Contrary to Olin’s reality, Graves sounds like the product of a man with all the time in the world. Like the work of the musicians Olin grew up listening to, including “kinda hokey” ’70s jazz singer Michael Franks, Phish and California-bred jam- and country-leaning pop outfit the Mother Hips, Graves has a subtle sense of humor and an ease that’s equal parts earthy warmth and glazed-over spaciness. “I’ve never really felt like I fit into any one particular [scene],” says Olin, offering up a jojo. “And I’m OK with that.” As such, he tends to go with the flow, embarking on recording sessions with “no focus” and seeing what happens.
What happens ranges from an ex-girlfriend speaking in Cambodian on one track (“Kampu Blues”) to Olin recalling wearing a tiara on another (during “Val K.,” from last year’s Easy Not Easy, Olin croons, “I wore my sister’s tiara/ It felt good”). Listening to Olin talk about his musical philosophy, it all makes sense: “I feel like when I get influenced by other music, it’s more just getting excited about music and song. It’s not about a particular style. It’s like, ‘Man, I wanna do something cool, too.’” So he gets a bunch of friends together, strives for the “right buzz,” and does just that.
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