So Many Colors: The Vibrant World of Akron/Family

Somewhere in Williamsburg, a hipster has slipped, by minute degrees, from the shell of his ego. He might have been perusing Pitchforkmedia.com, looking for music he could be the first to tell his friends about, catching up on the bands he was too sheepish to admit he'd never heard of, replacing the outdated indie-rock on his iPod with the stuff he knew he'd cycle out next month.

Then, he stumbled on Akron/Family. It might have been an older track, predating their 2007 release Love Is Simple, but his ear perked up immediately. Gentle acoustic guitar, tender vocals, electronic washes, ecstatic pulsation a la Animal Collective. But something was different. Please, Lord..., one line began. This kind of religiosity would have rubbed him the wrong way in most cases, but what the vocalist implored of this divinity was different. Give me strength to be nobody. I am not my thoughts.

The last time I saw Seth Olinsky, he was running manic through a crowded outdoor patio at the end of an Akron/Family show with a fan on his back. Other band members were busy dangling upside down from awnings and rubbing their guitars against tree branches. "There's so many colors," they sang, "without the dirty window…" It was absolutely infectious. Coiffed and appareled, kids were holding hands, closing their eyes, jumping, shouting, proclaiming ecclesiastical slogans. I couldn't help thinking, Is this for real?

Eschewing both hippy and hipster templates (at war since a psychedelic schism estranged the Grateful Dead's brand of naively optomistic troubadour-hood from the Velvet Underground's desultory, nihilistic realism), Akron/Family decided in 2002 to forge their own. Born of a small apartment-cum-rehearsal space in Brooklyn, the band devised a "playful but hermetic quasi-religious/sonic worldview/creed known as AK." The result is a vibrant avant-pop, drawing at once from the world of folk, rock, noise, and jazz, while bearing an uncanny likeness, at times, to Kirtan.

Facing critical allegations of spiritual pretension, their music has undoubtedly shaken the irony-saturated art-rock world, but their proven staying-power, rare in this realm, has verified that their message is more than two-dimensional aestheticism. Don't call them messengers, but their plea for self-reflection and unity in "phenomenon" is a timely one throughout the urban archipelago, where the liberal consensus gorges itself on atheistic rationalism and defeatist self-pity.

JP: People aren't used to the type of directness, honesty, and optimism your music offers. It's one thing for an artist to be confessional. This begs (a sometimes necessary) connection and catharsis through commiseration. But proffering love and transcendence puts a listener in a position to either embrace the sentiment whole-heartedly, or not at all. Do you think a lot of listeners are alienated this way?

SO: I don't know if I would call them listeners. I think the people that take the time to listen to our music including those that are already fans, generally enjoy it and hopefully come away with something positive, joyous, celebratory, etc. I think that for sure, a lot of "critics" or passive listeners certainly feel alienated and write it off as naive at best. And even with the attendees at our live shows, there are still folks that leave around the 1 hr mark, who may or may not feel alienated, but the ones that stay are usually very committed and interested, and are able to get over the red flags of "un-cool" or "silly" or "cheesy" and really let go of these to a certain extent and try and enjoy and celebrate life, the world, love etc.

Do you think many listeners assume you're being tongue-in-cheek?

I think that unfortunately, there are a lot of people whose only way to process something, like the title of our album for example (Love is Simple), is with irony. This was not the intention at all on our part. This specific example was meant to be thought provoking, as well as just beautiful. I suppose labeling it naive or "tongue-in-cheek" allows people to not really give it much thought. For us, this example was meant to provoke thought about the simplistic idea of love, or the fashionable re-hash of the love movement as it relates to clothes and psych sounds, and actually again revisit the wonderful and radical potential of love to change and grow and move people. It's less something we are trying to tell people, and more something we are trying to work on ourselves, and hopefully include others in the process.

Your music expects a lot of active engagement on the listener's part. Some people are used to musical transcendence being delivered to them by an "enlightened" virtuoso, but this is not how Akron/Family operates. There is a clattering, collective momentum generated within the band and in the crowd, born spontaneously, and directed by a cumulative inspiration. As passive as they may have planned on being, the listener is sucked in. What are your roles in conducting this process?

You don't see us as "enlightened virtuosos”? Ah well. We are working on it. I come from a jazz background, so I know what you mean: the committed and dedicated virtuoso who has crossed barriers himself, through relentless practice and mental exercise. I went to music school, and in some odd ways, I think folks like Coltrane, or more realistically the idea of Coltrane's virtuosity, really screwed some kids up.

I think what I do share with this idea, though, is the feeling of trying to create a foundation within a tradition that is strong enough to root a true exploration. I think progress can really work if it is attached to roots. It is a very normal and organic idea, whether it is Coltrane with his rugged Bop foundation or the beats or Kesey with their American Psyche Foundation, I think it really helps to have a strong foundation when you start trying to knock down the walls or rebuild the house. And in this way, I think Akron/Family has really put in our time as far as the foundational aspects of some of the bands we are inspired by or look to. This newest album for us was really I think the end of us trying to really get into those founding fathers of rock, Beatles, the Dead, Neil Young, Dylan, etc., to try and feel like we could get into that space before we tried to move away from there into a new one.

Getting back to the question, I think that the process of trying to create some spontaneous or transcendent experience as a group has been a lot of work for us. We have spent a lot of time individually as musicians and people, and then a lot of time as a group psychologically and also with our music to be able to perform it in a way that allows for spontaneity and joy and celebration. More and more we are working on rhythm and ways that sustained rhythms coupled with some enthusiasm can really create a joyous experience for people.

Do you consider yourselves messengers or entertainers first?

Neither, really. I think that we try pretty hard for it not to be about us up on the stage saying, "Here's what we know, or own, or have – now observe and/or learn from it.” More and more the live show is a direction of energy with ups and downs, highs and lows, happy and sad parts, and once we get to the end we have really tried to lock everyone in the room into one giant life/love celebration. The only thing we are really ever telling an audience is to try and loosen up. If that happens (for them and for us) the music and the moment get to do whatever it is they do.

Have you noticed a change in the Indie/hipster scene that, for so long, has been dominated by a sense of irony?

No, not really. From what I can tell, Irony and hipsterism seem to go hand in hand. But that said, there are extremely cool and sincere people all around the world, and they wear all sorts of different clothes.

Can there be such thing as purely aesthetic transcendence, or do people have to climb entirely on board?

I can't say I know exactly what you mean when you say "purely aesthetic transcendence", but I do think that one has to meet you half way, or at least part of the way. I think that most real learning experiences are hands on.

Do you consider your music "psychedelic"?

Some days yes, some days no.

Do you notice an occasional shallowness in art-rock psychedelia?

Sure, there is occasional shallowness everywhere. But I often feel that "art-rock psychedelia" misses some of the key points of early psychedelia, like the Dead for example. It is fashionable these days to reference Anthem of the Sun or Aoxomoxoa, but people tend to overlook something like the too-long blues moments, or the all out raggedness of the affair. In general, to me what is transcendent about the Dead was never their psychedelic style, but more their deep spirit. I think it was this willingness to tromp all around the American Psyche, and play within it and invite everyone along, that was the real spirit of transformation – not the aesthetic or psychedelic style.

Does half-hearted, postured psychedelia hurt the sanctity of the very personal, mystical experience?

No more than all the New Age babble filling the Barnes and Nobles of the world. I think America (and perhaps the rest of the modern world, and even me too!), has a problem with wanting to buy (or sell) a quick, personal transformation. It is unfortunate though that I do think these kinds of things reinforce people's tendency to not look any deeper than the surface. Or, worse, cause them to go against their quieter, deeper inclination that, in fact, there is more to this world, and reify that there isn't, because the art that they turn to for its surface appearance does not actually have the depth they are longing for.

Has the music world been resistant to the spirituality and ecstatic energy you bring to it?

I do not think we are so far-out or radical as to cause too much trouble. At least, not yet. I think the most resistance has come from music reviewers who, as I have said, write off our music, or usually our lyrics, as hippie naivete. We are not trying to preach to anyone, or really try to tell anyone any specific thing, so I think that has allowed a lot of people to just enjoy the joyous, ecstatic, or celebratory energy we try to bring with our music.

As per personal spiritual practice – do you practice with entheogens, or endorse their use? Do you find others in the genre to be more "alc-edelic," as Janis Joplin said, finding ecstasy in alcohol?

(Pause while I look up “entheogens “on Wikipedia.) Oh, no. Neither. We have all tried or experimented with different drugs in our past, but truthfully, we don't anymore and haven't for a long time.

We got pulled over in Texas once. The cop pulled me out of the car, brought me back to his vehicle and made me sit in the front seat. After repeatedly spitting the juice from his chewing tobacco into the over-sized styrofoam cup sitting between our two seats, he finally asked if we were carrying drugs. I told the truth.

"No."

He then asked if I ever tried marijuana. I lied. "No."

He said, "Really, not once?"

And I then told the truth. "Well, yes. When I was younger."

He then asked why I stopped and I told him, truthfully, that "I thought that I could live a better life without it." And that's more or less true about drugs in general. I think when I was younger they certainly opened me up to creatively, looking at myself and my world and my relationship to the world differently, but, at a certain point, they stopped being creative and became more confusing. I am not judgmental towards other people's use, but I just choose to grow in different ways.

As for alcohol, I don't know. In general, people seem to love to drink. I don't really know that many musicians though that are alcoholics, and I imagine most would have a hard time really finding ecstasy there.

There is a lot of overt Buddhist/Taoist imagery and sloganeering in your music. What role do these faiths play in your music?

None of us practice Taoism. Some of us are practicing Buddhists. We try not to make to big a deal of it because, on the practice side, it doesn't seem too healthy to do so, and, on the musical side, we all have our own personal beliefs, and also we don't want to scare off non-practitioners from the music. We don't set out to make this or that kind of music. Being part of our lives, it just naturally comes out. But as for whether this or that aspect of Dharma relates to everyone, it seems to me that the heart of Buddhism, the ideas of profound joy or love, is very human and shouldn't have to push anyone away.

For me specifically, I think that music has been a huge (the biggest?) part of what I consider my spiritual life. I think at some points music has really challenged me and pointed me in certain directions, and then at other times, the various paths have inspired or directed the music that I want to be part of. It is really a wonderful give and take for me, though challenging some times because it can be hard to tell where to put your energy.

Many songs have a strong element of chant, or incantation. For example: "One suchness, 10,000 things..." Do you find value in the concept of mantra?

Certainly. Not many of the songs were constructed with that specifically in mind lyrically, but that theme/idea certainly shows up. Repetition shows up all over the place in spiritual practices. I am obviously not the expert you want to talk to about what happens in the brain when someone repeats something over and over again, but whether it is a melody or a rhythm or a phrase, repetition is certainly a way to create a trance, or a space for yourself or listeners.

Does your music draw directly on the practice of Kitran?

I have never studied this. I only know a very little about the idea, but do have a Bhagavan Das CD that I enjoy quite a lot. I have also listened to and been inspired by Hassidic singing as well.

Unlike the proclivities of other spiritually-inclined musicians, your music does not groove so much as it throbs. An Akron/Family show is less a dance party than it is a bubbling shamanic ritual. It has been described as "archetypal" in that it eschews genre-classification in favor of a more primary sense of musical experience. Describe where this approach comes from.

I like this "bubbling" idea. We might have to use that as we start to email hippie festivals for '08. I feel like the genre thing is really simple. We just really truly love music and lots of different kinds. There is a certain aesthetic in what we are drawn to, but it is not genre. I think, really, we just love good music.

It could be argued that good is relative, but then why does everyone love The Beatles? Of course, everyone doesn't love The Beatles, but there is something universal about them. Same with Bach, or Coltrane, or the blues. I won't start listing all that we love, but even that is a common thread. We love these kinds of music, and they become part of our language. But it is less of a genre-deconstruction, and more like a … a lovey-dovey Ulysses of music. Ok, maybe not!

I just look at all these wonderful things that came before as part of the foundation for where we are now. Everyone is so focused on fashion and change and "new" these days that they forget all the really simple common threads of music through history – the simple elements and simple joys of a song, or a rhythm, or the great stories that can be told in a composition. "Art" has unfortunately become very "I" oriented, but music really isn't about that at all. I moved from NYC to Pennsylvania recently, trying to hopefully get away from the possibility of taking myself too seriously. NYC is so wonderful, but also so media saturated that you can start to believe your own press, if you know what I mean.

How does Akron/Family differ from "dance-bands"?

We definitely did not start out as a dance band. Our music was way more of a heady experience, but then we started to write some Rock songs, and people really responded to the energy so we went more in that direction live. Then we started to realize that if we changed directions so much musically (stop/start, up/down, loud/soft, slow/fast) people's bodies would start to move to one rhythm. These days, we have tried to create more extended sections with similar grooves and so, by the end of the show, have created a really extended pulse that can become a jumping, kicking, shouting, ecstatic experience!

Furthermore ... who do you read?

These days I don't get to read too much unfortunately. I am hoping to read more this winter. We'll see. Right now, I am reading Black Elk Speaks, and I have recently read books and sections of books by Tom Brown (Tracker, The Vision, etc.). I am hoping to read Infinite Jest this winter. I have also been reading Woody Guthrie's autobiography Bound For Glory (he is an American treasure!). I am also kind of a Kurt Vonnegut nut and am always revisiting his books. Just read Sirens of Titan this year and can't believe I missed it until now. Also, just listened to Asimov's Begin Foundation on tape on the way from Portland to SF.

Do you consider your music to be political, in that it addresses a state of collective consciousness that exists at the root of all human action?

I don't pay much attention to politics. I do of course want to effect change in myself and the world, but it seems better approached by personal transformation and positive actions than some political agenda of rights and wrongs.

Do you believe lasting global change can begin in music?

Not sure. I think music can really bring people together, raise their spirits, and inspire them to follow their hearts. I don't think Jay-Z can drop one rhyme and change the times (although, I do think he is great). Anyway, maybe, but I wouldn't bank on it.

Do you see humanity (as many contemporary thinkers do) to be toeing a critical brink of consciousness?

I am just hoping we hit it big before 2012. I always assumed we would have made way more money by now! Truthfully, I don't know. People seem to be people. I think I thought this more when I was younger, but really have no point of reference for it anymore.

Where do you see your music taking your listenership?

I don't know, maybe we can all choose together.

Where do you see your music taking your own spiritual practice?

Good question – further, hopefully!