“It’s hard for me to look at it just as music, y’know?”
I could waste my word count here simply listing the number of bands (or ‘projs’ to use the man’s own parlance) that Mike Watt has formed, shaped, joined, helped or been a part of. Suffice it to say, the two he’s best known for, Minutemen and The Stooges, are arguably two of the most important, fascinating and mould-breaking-ly unique rock groups you’re ever likely to encounter.
But even listing each individual endeavour like some kind of comprehensive punk rock CV would surely still fail to accurately portray the sheer scope of the personality, philosophy, language and practises of a man who, after spending 30+ years ‘workin’ the bass’, has become one of the most respected, talented and visionary players to emanate from the late 70s Californian punk explosion. Yet, unsurprisingly perhaps, he is virtually anonymous to the general public.
The idea of ‘doing it yourself’ is something that has become synonymous with punk, it’s angry younger brother, hardcore and indeed Watt himself, but it was more the result of having no set way of doing things outwith the structures of the music industry. With the exchanging of ideas and resources, punk flourished and set a template for decades to come on how to exist and survive as a band without paying out the arse or sacrificing your artistic vision. Or as the Minutemen put it: “We jam econo”.
In this respect, Watt, along with his buddies and fellow Minutemen D. Boon and George Hurley, were old-fashioned work horses. And they were smart too: recording live and practising so much they wouldn’t waste time in the studio; playing everything in the order it was to end up the record to avoid the costs of editing and sequencing; putting on their own shows; putting out records every few months; sharing info and networking with likeminded souls from all over the country… They took their own unique spin on what Punk had taught them and pushed it to the limit, never afraid of not fitting in. Again, they probably summed it up best themselves: ‘Punk is whatever we made it to be’.
Now, nearly 30 years on since the sad passing of Minutemen guitarist and vocalist D. Boon forced the band to quit, Watt, now workin’ his way into his fifties, is still making records in various guises and touring all over the world. From playing ‘thudstaff’ for the grandfathers of electrifying rock n roll, The Stooges in between writing operas to laying four string rumbles on countless collaborative records, and briefly reuniting with his post-Minutemen trio fIREHOSE last month. Still, repping D. Boon, still repping Pedro, this month Watt is being celebrated for another aspect of his artistic vision entirely: photography.
‘Mike Watt: On and Off bass’ - Watt’s second book after 2003’s ‘Spiels of a Minuteman’ - is essentially a collection of photos revelling in the beauty and wildlife of his beloved San Pedro, California hometown. The pieces, taken while cycling, kayaking and walking near his house, take in the industrial structures of the harbour town, the spectacular ocean sunrises and the lively local creatures that inhabit the area.
“That’s just my town,” says Watt. “I live in a harbour and it’s weird for California but we actually face east so I get sunrises. We’re on the other side of a peninsula so like a southern version of San Francisco. So there’s sun rises and living in the harbour there’s pelicans and sea lions and dolphins and stuff.”
Originally casual hobby of sorts that blossomed into regular documentation, the photos were far from frivolous, but still more a kind of fun little practice that was rarely the subject of deeper thought for Watt.
“I always just did it, y’know,” Watt adds casually, “and they just got put on the flow (mailing) list. Then, a year ago, there was a gallery in Santa Monica called Track 16 and they wanted to do a show of my pictures. I never thought, I mean, I’d never seen ‘em printed, they’re always just stuff from ‘puters. And I said OK, and the gallery took 65 of ‘em and basically in a weird way, this book is kind of a catalogue of that show.”
To put them into context, much like the exhibition itself, the pictures are complemented with snippets of lyrics, poems and quotes that reflect what’s on the page, but the focus for Watt has never been on the written element of the book.
“The editors at Three Room Press, Peter and Cathy went and looked at my diaries and my poems and they picked some of that stuff to go in between some of these pictures,” explains Watt. “I thought it’d be kinda ham-fisted for me to go pickin’ my own excerpts, so I wanted some kind of objective thing so I said you guys can pick what you think, kind of spiel words. Not too much though because it seemed to be more about the pictures so I didn’t want to be too heavy about the spiels. If you wanna read the diaries, just go to the fuckin’ Hootpage (Watt’s website), y’know!
“It’s very kind of these people, both at Track 16 and at Three Rooms Press, because like I said, I took these pictures, just to do it right? I want people to know about Pedro, where I live and stuff but it’s mainly kinda for friends.”
In the 2005 documentary, We Jam Econo, filmmakers Tim Irwin and Keith Schieron explore the story of the Minutemen, charting their history from D. Boon and Watt’s accidental run-in at a park when they were 13, to the band’s untimely end in 1985 just as people were beginning to catch up. In the movie, we get in-depth look into the friendship and surroundings that shaped a unique three-way partnership but it also cements the idea that the Minutemen were who they are, because of where they came from. A theme that has been written in bold throughout pretty much everything Watt’s done since.
“The Minutemen wrote a lot about Pedro,” he affirms. “I came to this town when I was 10 years old from Virginia, so I’ve been here 44 years. So I’m not really from here. And D. Boon was from Napa, California up north, Georgie (Hurley, Minutemen/fIREHOSE drummer) was from Massachusetts, so none of us were actually from Pedro but we came here as boys. And we never left.
“One of my sisters and my mom lives here, and also for me, my whole music history’s here. The town is different for So Cal. I know if you fly over these parts it just looks like one huge ass town but actually it’s about 150 and they’re all kinda different. But this one; Pedro’s much different because of the geography. It’s in the harbour; it’s at the end with cliffs, kinda like Malibu with hammerhead cranes and longshoremen. It’s a weird mixture, it’s a workin’ town. This is closer to Vietnam than Virginia,” he says, cementing the idea that Pedro was very much an outsider town; a So Cal anomaly.
“Believe me, I love visiting everywhere else, going to other towns, the touring thing, that part of my work, and I’m very much grateful for it but it’s good to have kind of a base too, for the bungee cord to bounce back, y’know?”
Although he’s not likely to drop anchor just yet, despite being fairly settled in his Pedro pad, revisiting the band’s own personal geography as well as its history for We Jam Econo was an experience that would go on to have a profound and long-lasting effect on Watt’s feelings about the band, his roots and where he wanted to push himself as a musician and an artist.
“The two guys that made it, Tim and Keith, they were too young to actually see us, so they asked me to show ‘em around,” he explains. “And I had to start listening to the Minutemen again because I had to talk about it, because after [D. Boon] got killed, it was kinda hard to listen for a while.”
“Making that documentary and listening to that music again, I kinda incorporated Minutemen ideas in my third opera, [last year’s] ‘Hyphenated-man’. I mean, there were some other things too, like Hieronymus Bosch, and the Wizard of Oz, but a big part of it was just going back to my Minutemen roots, which I was afraid to do because it was a personal thing.
“It’s hard for me to look at it just as music, y’know?” Watt adds with his trademark enthusiasm but still clearly as aware as ever of the gravity of the situation. “I had to do it to help Tim and Keith out with this movie and one thing I’m really interested in, is people knowing about D. Boon. I’m into that because I love his message, and I love his aesthetic, I just think it’s good healthy stuff. Even if I wasn’t in the band, y’know, I’m a bit of a fan!" [he laughs].
“I know that sounds weird and shit but I truly am. I think I owe it to him to make music on my own and not dick leach on him and shit but I also want folks to know about his work. As much as I can anyway.”
- - -
Words by Ryan Drever - Pity The Writer
But even listing each individual endeavour like some kind of comprehensive punk rock CV would surely still fail to accurately portray the sheer scope of the personality, philosophy, language and practises of a man who, after spending 30+ years ‘workin’ the bass’, has become one of the most respected, talented and visionary players to emanate from the late 70s Californian punk explosion. Yet, unsurprisingly perhaps, he is virtually anonymous to the general public.
The idea of ‘doing it yourself’ is something that has become synonymous with punk, it’s angry younger brother, hardcore and indeed Watt himself, but it was more the result of having no set way of doing things outwith the structures of the music industry. With the exchanging of ideas and resources, punk flourished and set a template for decades to come on how to exist and survive as a band without paying out the arse or sacrificing your artistic vision. Or as the Minutemen put it: “We jam econo”.
In this respect, Watt, along with his buddies and fellow Minutemen D. Boon and George Hurley, were old-fashioned work horses. And they were smart too: recording live and practising so much they wouldn’t waste time in the studio; playing everything in the order it was to end up the record to avoid the costs of editing and sequencing; putting on their own shows; putting out records every few months; sharing info and networking with likeminded souls from all over the country… They took their own unique spin on what Punk had taught them and pushed it to the limit, never afraid of not fitting in. Again, they probably summed it up best themselves: ‘Punk is whatever we made it to be’.
Now, nearly 30 years on since the sad passing of Minutemen guitarist and vocalist D. Boon forced the band to quit, Watt, now workin’ his way into his fifties, is still making records in various guises and touring all over the world. From playing ‘thudstaff’ for the grandfathers of electrifying rock n roll, The Stooges in between writing operas to laying four string rumbles on countless collaborative records, and briefly reuniting with his post-Minutemen trio fIREHOSE last month. Still, repping D. Boon, still repping Pedro, this month Watt is being celebrated for another aspect of his artistic vision entirely: photography.
‘Mike Watt: On and Off bass’ - Watt’s second book after 2003’s ‘Spiels of a Minuteman’ - is essentially a collection of photos revelling in the beauty and wildlife of his beloved San Pedro, California hometown. The pieces, taken while cycling, kayaking and walking near his house, take in the industrial structures of the harbour town, the spectacular ocean sunrises and the lively local creatures that inhabit the area.
“That’s just my town,” says Watt. “I live in a harbour and it’s weird for California but we actually face east so I get sunrises. We’re on the other side of a peninsula so like a southern version of San Francisco. So there’s sun rises and living in the harbour there’s pelicans and sea lions and dolphins and stuff.”
Originally casual hobby of sorts that blossomed into regular documentation, the photos were far from frivolous, but still more a kind of fun little practice that was rarely the subject of deeper thought for Watt.
“I always just did it, y’know,” Watt adds casually, “and they just got put on the flow (mailing) list. Then, a year ago, there was a gallery in Santa Monica called Track 16 and they wanted to do a show of my pictures. I never thought, I mean, I’d never seen ‘em printed, they’re always just stuff from ‘puters. And I said OK, and the gallery took 65 of ‘em and basically in a weird way, this book is kind of a catalogue of that show.”
To put them into context, much like the exhibition itself, the pictures are complemented with snippets of lyrics, poems and quotes that reflect what’s on the page, but the focus for Watt has never been on the written element of the book.
“The editors at Three Room Press, Peter and Cathy went and looked at my diaries and my poems and they picked some of that stuff to go in between some of these pictures,” explains Watt. “I thought it’d be kinda ham-fisted for me to go pickin’ my own excerpts, so I wanted some kind of objective thing so I said you guys can pick what you think, kind of spiel words. Not too much though because it seemed to be more about the pictures so I didn’t want to be too heavy about the spiels. If you wanna read the diaries, just go to the fuckin’ Hootpage (Watt’s website), y’know!
“It’s very kind of these people, both at Track 16 and at Three Rooms Press, because like I said, I took these pictures, just to do it right? I want people to know about Pedro, where I live and stuff but it’s mainly kinda for friends.”
In the 2005 documentary, We Jam Econo, filmmakers Tim Irwin and Keith Schieron explore the story of the Minutemen, charting their history from D. Boon and Watt’s accidental run-in at a park when they were 13, to the band’s untimely end in 1985 just as people were beginning to catch up. In the movie, we get in-depth look into the friendship and surroundings that shaped a unique three-way partnership but it also cements the idea that the Minutemen were who they are, because of where they came from. A theme that has been written in bold throughout pretty much everything Watt’s done since.
“The Minutemen wrote a lot about Pedro,” he affirms. “I came to this town when I was 10 years old from Virginia, so I’ve been here 44 years. So I’m not really from here. And D. Boon was from Napa, California up north, Georgie (Hurley, Minutemen/fIREHOSE drummer) was from Massachusetts, so none of us were actually from Pedro but we came here as boys. And we never left.
“One of my sisters and my mom lives here, and also for me, my whole music history’s here. The town is different for So Cal. I know if you fly over these parts it just looks like one huge ass town but actually it’s about 150 and they’re all kinda different. But this one; Pedro’s much different because of the geography. It’s in the harbour; it’s at the end with cliffs, kinda like Malibu with hammerhead cranes and longshoremen. It’s a weird mixture, it’s a workin’ town. This is closer to Vietnam than Virginia,” he says, cementing the idea that Pedro was very much an outsider town; a So Cal anomaly.
“Believe me, I love visiting everywhere else, going to other towns, the touring thing, that part of my work, and I’m very much grateful for it but it’s good to have kind of a base too, for the bungee cord to bounce back, y’know?”
Although he’s not likely to drop anchor just yet, despite being fairly settled in his Pedro pad, revisiting the band’s own personal geography as well as its history for We Jam Econo was an experience that would go on to have a profound and long-lasting effect on Watt’s feelings about the band, his roots and where he wanted to push himself as a musician and an artist.
“The two guys that made it, Tim and Keith, they were too young to actually see us, so they asked me to show ‘em around,” he explains. “And I had to start listening to the Minutemen again because I had to talk about it, because after [D. Boon] got killed, it was kinda hard to listen for a while.”
“Making that documentary and listening to that music again, I kinda incorporated Minutemen ideas in my third opera, [last year’s] ‘Hyphenated-man’. I mean, there were some other things too, like Hieronymus Bosch, and the Wizard of Oz, but a big part of it was just going back to my Minutemen roots, which I was afraid to do because it was a personal thing.
“It’s hard for me to look at it just as music, y’know?” Watt adds with his trademark enthusiasm but still clearly as aware as ever of the gravity of the situation. “I had to do it to help Tim and Keith out with this movie and one thing I’m really interested in, is people knowing about D. Boon. I’m into that because I love his message, and I love his aesthetic, I just think it’s good healthy stuff. Even if I wasn’t in the band, y’know, I’m a bit of a fan!" [he laughs].
“I know that sounds weird and shit but I truly am. I think I owe it to him to make music on my own and not dick leach on him and shit but I also want folks to know about his work. As much as I can anyway.”
- - -
Words by Ryan Drever - Pity The Writer
