You won’t catch me being one of those old guys in a mall-fresh Misfits shirt talking about how punk died years ago – it’s quite possible that there are a larger number of great punk bands now than any other time in the past couple decades. Video aren’t just one of those great punk bands, though – I am willing to go out and say that they are actually really, really great. From the way they fuse hard-rock power to snotty punk grooves, put together fist-pumpingly memorable hooks and scream at you with a voice that sounds like a demonically-possessed pinball machine in an after-hours arcade, Video are the definition of modern punk quality. That aforementioned voice belongs to Daniel Fried, whose history playing in Texas punk bands as varied and notable as Bad Sports, High Tension Wires and Wax Museums (to name but a few) helped shape his evolution to frontman vocalist in Video. He talks a good game here, but I swear, he can back it up!

How did Video get started? I figure you all knew each other from playing in other bands, being around town, etc… What was the impetus for starting this new group?
We all have been playing in bands together for years, but this combination really gelled quickly. I always wanted to be in a band where I wasn’t tied down with playing guitar and was just a frontman, and this variation really helped set us apart from our other bands. We wanted to do something that sounded negative and refreshing. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that our band is comprised of the best musicians in the business.

Is this your first time being a frontman who just sings? How would you say it differs from having to play guitar while singing – do you feel like you have to be more entertaining?
Yes, it’s my first time as a frontman. At first it was a little strange to not have the crutch of a guitar to hide behind. The hard part was finding something to do when I wasn’t singing. I didn’t want to just stand there, so I had develop a way to be entertaining during that time. From the beginning, I knew I wasn’t going to be the wild-and-crazy guy that was rolling around in broken glass. I have more dignity than that. I needed to find a way to use my brain instead of my body during our sets. So I started talking more on stage and venting my frustrations. Now our shows are pretty memorable, and I’ve barely done anything. I mainly just showcase my power and control.

Did everyone agree to the band name right away? Where did that come from?
There were no objections to the band name. Initially, we wanted the band to be Video “something”, because I wanted something to sound like that movie Video Dead, or Videodrome or something. So after going through about fifty different variations, I had the idea “why not just Video?” Sounded cool to me. People get mad about not being able to find us online because of our name. It’s hard to search for just Video and have us show up. But our goal, which should be met shortly, was to become so pervasive and recognizable in modern culture that when someone says Video, it only means us.

What do you hope for from an audience, as far as participation goes? I figure you don’t want them standing there with their arms crossed, but would it cross the line if they sprayed a beer on you, or grabbed and ripped your shirt?
As far as I’m concerned, the crowd can react how they want, as long as it’s far enough away from us. There’s a reason we’re on stage and they’re down in the crowd, and they should recognize their place in our shows. But if someone wants to try climbing on my stage, I have no problem putting them back where they belong.

Can you recall any specific memorable moments from recent Video live gigs? Is on-stage self-mutilation strictly off the table for you?
It’s not very recent, but a little more than a year ago, we played in Houston. After our first three songs, I knelt down and spoke very calmly into the microphone. “This is our first show back in the United States after our highly successful festival shows in Stockholm, Sweden (which was true).” There was a bit of an ovation at that, and after a slight pause I said “…and it makes me sick to my stomach that it’s here in Houston, Texas (also true).” The look of confusion that befell the crowd was priceless. The hurt looks on their faces almost made it worth playing in Houston. After a few more songs we’d cleared the room to about ten people. That was a pretty proud moment for me. As far as self-mutilation, I never intentionally try and hurt myself. However, I’m usually bleeding, at least a little bit, at every show. I tend to cut my mouth open on the microphone at some point. I’ve been accused of swallowing blood packs, but I can assure you, every drop of blood that flows from my face is 100% real. My lips are as susceptible to puncture as Ric Flair’s forehead.

Why insult a crowd like that? What does that do for you?
It is solely for my benefit. If it entertains me, then I’ll do it. I just got so sick of seeing bands get on stage and after every song say “Thank you. It’s so great to be here.” I’ve been on tour enough and played plenty of shows to know that being in a band is pretty stupid. Most of the time it’s not fun, and it’s not great being in some town you didn’t even want to go to in the first place. So if I can say some things to spice it up for myself, I’m going to. Plus, I would like to think I’m pretty good at it. I’ve been talking shit for a lot longer than I’ve been playing music.

Do you wish more bands were honest about things? Would the punk ‘scene’ be better off if people told their friends that they thought their bands sucked instead of just passively being nice?
Yes, very much so. We wish everyone would join us on the Hate Wave. There’s too many people trying to be nice to other bands in order to “support the scene.” We should all embrace our inner thoughts and inner hate. We’re living in a world that supports disposable culture. I like to refer to it as “shallow times.” Once we’re all honest to ourselves and to others, we can grow as a society and profit from a more sustainable artistic environment because we wouldn’t have to deal with artificial sincerity and the false hope that stems from that. People should be honest with themselves and others. If that means hurting someone’s feelings, so be it. They should strive to be a little better and overcome their handicaps. Not everyone has it as easy as Video.

I can name a few examples myself, but in what way do you feel like Video stands out from all the other punk bands out there?
The main difference that sets us apart, is our obvious greatness. We pride ourselves on our songwriting chops and since we’re all students of the game, so to speak, we can draw influences from a wide variety of music. We are the best because we’re not just a punk band. Punk should be thankful to have our name associated with it.

Speaking of punk, you recently played the Total Punk Total Fuck Off Weekend… how did that go? Did any of the other bands impress you in particular?
The Total Punk weekend was fun. Rich did a great job of setting it up, and every band was good, which is rare for me to say. The one band I hadn’t seen before that impressed me was Golden Pelicans. They were great. I assume the only reason Rich put on the fest was so we could play and they could open for us.

You haven’t released a ton of records – just an LP and a single at the moment. Is that due out of you just not having a lot of songs, or time to record, or was this a conscious decision not to flood the market? Seems like most punk bands that have any sort of a following quickly release a ton of stuff these days.
We haven’t released that much due to the fact that we want to stay consistent. It might take us a little while longer to write and record songs, but in our opinion, they are worth the wait. You can’t rush perfection. It’s a conscious decision to let you, the consumer, know that when the Video name is on a record it’s a mark of quality. We want to be proud of our output, and if it takes years for us to be happy enough to make new records, we don’t mind making you wait.

Seeing as you’ve all played in various other punk and hardcore bands before, was there any sort of musical guidelines you’ve tried to stick with? What makes a guitar riff or lyric something distinctly Video, as opposed to one of your other bands?
One of the main devices we use is the Wah pedal. We can write songs that might not sound right normally, but once you run it through a cool Wah pedal, it sounds perfect. If something doesn’t sound like it would fit with the rest of our songs, just adjust the Wah to either be really shrill and harsh sounding, or pull it back and have it be really bass-y. Initially, the band was supposed to have very minimal guitar, but as time has gone on, we let Payton stand out and play a little more. He’s a great guitar player, but if he tried to shred over every song, it would get old pretty quickly. So we only unleash his talents when it’s absolutely necessary. It’s our little secret weapon.

Were there any specific stylistic touchstones you wanted to avoid with this band? Could there ever be a super-fast Video song, or a sleepy dirge?
We wanted to keep this band free from any musical barriers. If we think it works, we’ll put it in there. That’s why some of our songs can go from an angular punk song to a stoner-sounding jam session. It’s boring being fenced in. I wish more bands in our genre would explore different themes and try a few things. Maybe that’s my age talking, because I definitely wouldn’t have thought that when I was younger. And we could have slower songs or even pop songs if we felt so inclined. They would just have to feel right in the wide spectrum that is Video. However, at the moment, I am not very fond of super fast songs. I don’t think it does anyone any favors to play fast for no reason. I think other bands want to play really fast because they think it sounds aggressive. I think you can get more aggression and power out of a good mid-tempo song. Fast is fine too, but it has to have power.

What’s next for Video? Are you working on any new recordings?
There will be another single out sometime soon on Hozac. It’s been in the works for a while, but we feel it’s worth the wait. The writing for the second album is taking a little longer than expected, but is going to be a little more ambitious and better than Leather Leather. Maybe some European releases as well.

Would you ever do a Video video?
We have no objections to doing a video, but we have yet to come up with a good concept or idea for one that is feasible. If someone wanted to invest a few million dollars into a video for us, get in touch. The closes we have are a couple of live performance videos that the good guys at Delocreative did for their “Be Nice To Your Kids” series. They’re online, if you can find a way to search for them properly. Good luck.

If you want to hear modern New York’s hot underground sound without any fireworks in the pit, snot-nosed testosterone or buzzsaw feedback, add Household to your queue! This semi-functioning band has been responsible for some of the most curious indie music to come out of Brooklyn in a while, filled with nervous confidence and quiet anger, among many other delightful contradictions. Comparisons like Young Marble Giants and Marine Girls pop up frequently (and aren’t off-base), but any artsy introspection is tempered by a deep-rooted punk attitude, the sort of stink you can’t wash off no matter how low you turn the volume knob. The new Household record, Elaines, is their best one yet, and if the sharp and illuminating conversation guitarist/vocalist Talya Cooper shares with me below doesn’t have you scrambling for a copy, I’m not sure what will.

How did Household get started? Would you say it’s “your” band, in the possessive form, seeing as you are the guitarist and vocalist? Do you write all the songs, or is it more of a democratic thing?
The initial batch of Household songs came out of an attempt to rid myself of serious bummer vibes in the summer of 2010 by holing up in a practice space with borrowed gear and some Tecate. I met Isabel Freeman, our bassist, soon afterwards, and the band has been a collaboration between the two of us ever since – she even came up with the name! Although I write the riffs and lyrics, she edits them down, reorganizes them, tells me how many times things should repeat, and cuts out a lot of ancillary bridges (or, on rare occasions, makes me write a bridge). Sometimes I think she is wrong, in which case two practices later I’ll acknowledge that yes, that should be a tom hit not a snare hat and no, we don’t need that bridge after all. The core of our sound is the interplay between my guitar and her bass parts. Isabel is moving to England at the end of this spring, and the band will then go on extended hiatus.

Why an extended hiatus, and not a breakup? Do you not feel the pressure that so many bands do, to sort of make the most of your small “window” for success and constantly notify the audience at large that you exist?
We already took a year-long hiatus a while back, right before our first record came out, so this last batch of recordings and shows has basically been our reunion. Isabel and I would like to play again together in the future, and it might be fun to tour the UK while she’s living there, so we decided that we’ll keep saying that we “are” in a band instead of that we “were.” To some extent I think that “window” might not exist anymore – given proper internet/friend momentum, it seems like any band can revive itself. I mean, think about all the unlikely tours that have gone down over the past couple years. Additionally, almost all the positive feedback we received about our music came while we weren’t playing shows, as the first LP kind of took on its own life, with minimal promotion and no touring. I know that’s more the exception than the rule, but it’s nice to know that there’s some leeway in how even such limited success as we’ve had can come for a band.

Do you have any guesses as to why your LP kinda took off when the band was inactive? Do you think it’s as simple as a bunch of people just really digging the music?
Honestly, I do, and that gives me a strange and otherwise unfounded faith in the internet. I also think that the moment was ripe for our kind of music, both politically (when our LP came out, I think it was the heyday of a lot of really awesome music-and-feminism Tumblrs) and sonically: we sounded sufficiently similar-but-different to some of our peers who were at or near their peak, like Grass Widow and Yellow Fever.

From your records, and band name, I get kind of a personal, domestic vibe from Household… like you’re a band that exists in the comfort of your own homes, more than trucking across the country in a van or living out on the streets. Is that something that rings true to you?
Partly that’s out of necessity. We have a Spinal Tap-esque disappearing-drummer situation, I have an office job, and Isabel works in film, which sometimes means she has to run off to Australia at the drop of a hat or something – all factors that making touring difficult. Also, I guess we do Household mostly as a form of psychic-death-resistance for ourselves. We picked the name partly because we found it evocative of womyn’s communal living/family of choice, and for me, playing music with other women serves the purpose I imagine consciousness-raising groups had in the day: a space where we can learn from each other (musically and otherwise) and collaborate – with all the joys and struggles that entails – in a place that’s set apart from the everyday. What we do is secret!
Finally, we’re old people and don’t go to a ton of shows or hang out or whatever, and our friends who’re musicians span a broad spectrum of genres and interests, so there’s no particular “scene” in which we feel particularly at home (aside from the general company of other mostly-female-identified and/or queer bands). It’s nice to be able to slip between so many different musical worlds – we’ve played with everyone from James Chance & The Contortions to Warthog to TEEN – but also sometimes feels a little lonely. Our scene is the internet? I don’t know.

Even though I realize my stereo has a volume knob, Household strikes me as a “quiet” kinda group. Is that something that is intentional? Am I off the mark here?
I like our recordings to have a lot of empty space; I like clean, thin, trebly guitars. Partly the quietness comes from the band’s sparsity, but I also imagine our music as a soundtrack to quiet desperation. In the ancient world, if you were mad at or jealous of someone, you’d write a curse on a tablet or a bone fragment or something and bury it in the ground. I think of our music as some kind of equivalent.

Lyrically, what are your songs about? Is there any particular mental space you come from, when writing the lyrics?
The first Household songs emerged from the first time my heart broke, which is also the moment when I think I became an adult. They’re about being less angry than just disappointed to find out the world is just how the world is, that what I want is to see capitalism go down in flames but in the meantime my job wants to know if I want to withhold part of my paycheck for retirement savings and should I do that? And that you want things – the world, your friends, relationships – to change for the better from the patterns and relationships you saw adults living out when you were young, but everyone just starts getting married and eating meat, and so many things that seem so basic and obvious continue to be denied from so many people. The songs on the first record have a lot to do with dudes and jobs, and most of the second record pertains to my own relationship to New York, which has been my home for twelve and a half years. Once when I was fighting with my mom about something, a general lack of ambition I think, she said “you know, Talya, New York doesn’t love you back,” and I just thought “that might be the thing I know best of anything.”

Do you ever think about moving somewhere else? Do you have any idea how easy it is to be in a band if you live in Portland or Baltimore or Columbus, etc etc?
If I leave New York ever I will move to the woods somewhere and learn how to play the dulcimer and make weird shaky-voiced old-lady recluse music about the moon, kind of like a cross between Kath Bloom and the Fates Furia LP.

Have you ever considered playing in a band where the other members are men? Or are there just already enough male-dominated bands in the world?
I’ve played music with men, both in Household (two of our wonderful fill-in drummers, Nick Millhiser and Jay Hough) and in a few other projects that never took off. While I’m not opposed to playing music with men, it’s just not as fun. Partly, this pertains to my personal history of playing music. Though I learned guitar in high school, I rarely played in public and quit when I started college because every band around me seemed comprised of dudes with sick chops and intense riffage. I didn’t sense a space where I could refine my skills and come to find a style that suited me, and decided that my role in music lay in DJing, collecting, fandom, etc. I didn’t form my first “real band” until well into my 20s, when I inherited a slot at a practice space, and my best friend Hannah (now of http://silentlunch.bandcamp.com) and I pulled our high-school-era Squier guitar and bass out of our parents’ houses and tried making music together, for the first time. It took a while to understand how to participate in a collaborative, creative process, to learn how to play and sing at the same time, to get better and more confident. We laughed, we cried, we talked about our periods, we wrote a couple hits. We played our second show the night before Hannah moved away, and I remember that when I hugged her goodbye and I was all teary and she was trying to get me to chill out she reminded me of how a year or even six months prior, it never would have even occurred to us to start a band, an activity that had abruptly become one of the most important pieces of our friendship and our lives (I think she actually just said “did you ever think we could do this?”).
As a result of this introduction to making music, I think of band practice as a safe(r) space. Because that moment of “oh shit/we can do this/we can do this together” is so fresh for me, and because most dudes around have been playing in bands since they were ten, I relate a lot better to women who – even if they’re seasoned pros – face some level of discrimination, or at least a set of misguided assumptions that so often frames the way people listen to and receive music made by women. Playing with women who are better musicians than I am has allowed my confidence and musical capacities to grow, and I’m able to share what I know now with women who’ve just found, as I did a few years ago, that jamming serves as a perfect counterbalance to the gnarlitude of the day-to-day. Whoa, I just typed the word “women” so many times. True confession: I sent this response to one of my sheroes, Grace Ambrose, to read over to see if it makes sense, and she helped me come to maybe the crux of all this: for many of my friends and bandmates, being in a band is doing something for yourself, but doing something for yourself together. Few dudes, in my experience, have that same set of stakes and desires.

Are there any Household songs in the works? Are you always writing new music?
I have a few pieces of things but I tend to work in spurts. Usually, when I start listening to a record compulsively and nail down what aspects of the songwriting appeal to me, I start reshaping those ideas into riffs and parts. My mood dictates my productivity a lot, though variably; sometimes when I feel super-depressed I can’t stop playing guitar and other times I deem everything I do totally worthless and just sit around and watch a lot of old-person-y British TV mysteries. This winter has been mostly the latter, unfortunately. Maybe sometime I’ll write a solo LP about Miss Marple and redeem myself.

Last question – if you could only have one in your life: punk or hardcore? Obviously they both can mean a million different things, so you can go with whatever definitions you want.
Punk! Imagine a life without the Petticoats? Or the Ramones?! Forget about it!