Jeff Mangum is the driving force behind Neutral Milk Hotel. The band's debut album, On Avery Island, is a sprawling, inspired, folk-infused tour of Mangum's peripatetic life. OAI has some brushes with what could be classified as pop, but taken as a whole, it is more of a singular musical movement. A strong leitmotiv, both lyrical and musical, intertwines the songs together. Although Mangum is elusive as to its meaning (more accurately protective), there is a narrative that weaves through the album.
In the hour or so that we spent over coffee, Mangum struck me as a kind, humble, and singularly genuine individual. Wary of attention, let alone critical acclaim, Mangum comes across as slightly distant and guarded, but is able to maintain a semblance of congeniality. Glowing press from all of the "major alternative" publications seems to almost confound him. Mangum couldn't care less. His apathy is generated not out of some thinly veiled hubris or misguided notion of "indie" credibility; he exists apart from the fray of the music industry tumult. When asked what he wants to gain from this whole experience, Mangum, with a diluted southern drawl replied, "I just want to end up in a basement with my 8-track making tapes."
Mangum's level of non-attachment and continental drift is akin to that of Kung Fu Theater's Grasshopper. He calls no single place home for very long, and the only items he seems to relish are his new 8-track and a few odds and ends. The epicenter for Neutral Milk and other bands of the same ilk (The Apples in Stereo and the Olivia Tremor Control) is Denver, Colorado, the home of Robert Schneider (The Apples in Stereo) and the Elephant 6 Recording Co. Oddly enough, all of these bands can trace their origins back to Ruston, Louisiana, the childhood home of Mangum, Schneider, Bill Doss (OTC), and Will Cullen (OTC).
Schneider made his way to Denver, where he founded Elephant 6, the site where he produced On Avery Island. Although each of these bands has come to develop a distinct sound, the similarities they possess are numerous. While the Apples confine themselves more in the genre of pop, NMH and OTC flirt with varying levels of musical experimentation. All three rely on solid song writing and a flair for unique instrumentation. The influence of 60s era British Pop (the Kinks) and psych (the Soft Machine) is also a tie that binds these bands together. The musical world that these folks create would be the perfect ineffable landscape for a Sid and Marty Kroft vehicle.
Since leaving Ruston, the ever itinerant Mangum has never stayed in the same place for long. "A part of my heart is in Denver, but living there every day is kind of difficult . . . I kept going around in circles 'till I moved to New York - now I think I'll probably move back to Louisiana." Luckily for those in the New York area, Mangum called the dirty city home for a brief while. During that period of time, NMH played a series of impressive live shows throughout Manhattan. So taken was I with the band's first performance, I dragged everyone I knew and cared about to the remainder of their shows. Even those who were less than impressed with the album were transfixed by the live show.
Basically recorded as a one-man project, Mangum had to pull together a band in order to tour. "Robert [Schneider] not only produced the album, but he played on it as well. He also arranged the horns. For the tour, this is the first time I had a band - I was skeptical about putting one together. It worked out well though. Those guys are going to play on the next album. We've been together since April / May '95. I had a choice of going on tour or recording in a basement . . . it's easy to get lost in your head. I'm not any less lost, but it's fun to go on tour." While the album has its poppy, upbeat moments, there is a prevailing sense of dark, emotional catharsis. This is in contrast to the brilliant, energy-filled live shows the band puts on. The emotional tension of the album comes through when Mangum performs without a band. These solo shows are the most intimate and personal performances I have seen - regardless of the size of the room or crowd. The intimacy of the shows owes much to the lyrics that Mangum has penned. Largely autobiographical, they exude spontaneity and warmth. "There is a story, not so much an arty concept, but a story. 'Song of Sex' came flying out in one night - I wrote it in the attic of a Louisiana squat house I was living in."
Growing up in rural Louisiana, Mangum was exposed to a wide variety of music - all of which have left an imprint on the music he creates. "I grew up with a lot of folk, as well as with a lot of experimental and jazz. The next record will be more folk oriented - then after that, I just want to drop out . . . become a total fruitcake. I'm going to put out NMH albums my whole life - I'm in no hurry or under no pressure to do anything. NMH is my own personal statement - the other recordings I do are about creating other universes. I didn't want to fuck with either one of those. If it took off, I don't know where it would go. I'm just satisfied putting out records and playing shows."