I first met Kristine
when she put me in touch with the late Scott Miller, as she is his wife, for an
an interview with him in 2011 for Music:What Happened, his book of music
criticism.
When Scott passed away
in 2013, I and every other Scott fan reached out to her, and she to us. Out of
shared grief there was a real community, one I’m proud to belong to.
I am also very happy
that she accepted my request for an interview about
"SuperCaliFragile," the posthumous Game Theory album Scott was
working on at the time of his death. Her answers are below.
Andrea Weiss: I love
the title of the album. Where did Scott come up with it?
Kristine Chambers: The
title is very Scott-like, isn't it? Certainly he pulled it from the term
"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" from the movie "Mary
Poppins," which he likely watched as a boy and definitely watched with our
two daughters here at home. Most people know he was always interested in
words and their root meanings, and that he liked to use language in creative
ways.
Once I had a foot
injury and had trouble releasing the car's parking brake after he would drive
it, because he used to push it down so far with his foot. It took a lot
of pressure to push it further to release it. I asked him if he could be
careful of this for me. We came home one day in the car and as he applied the
parking brake on the incline of our driveway he said sweetly, "I'm just
going to pussyfoot the brake..." as he gently pushed it with his foot just
enough to hold the car in place, and easy enough for me to release it the next
day. It was a completely new and unique use of the term "pussyfoot,"
and it made perfect comical sense. He likely heard the first part
"super-cali-fragil" as a description of some state of being he could
relate to on some level. He did a few times over-enunciate the "e" he
put on the end to sound like the father in "A Christmas Story," who
misreads the English word "FRAGILE" as "Fra-gee-lay" and
says, "It must be Italian!" Scott referencing that movie was always
funny.
I suspect as Scott was
in his 50s he was beginning to feel his own mortality as well as the fragility
of human life in general. Perhaps the reference
to "California" easily drawn from "calif" and the
qualifier "super" made "Supercalifragile" such a perfect
title. These were the concepts, along with an idea to include some code
representing fragility, that I discussed with B.J. West, in the hopes that B.J.
would design an album cover as amazing as he did.
AW: Scott never lost
it, vocally, lyrically, or his guitar playing. Was he worried that he might
have?
KC: I don't think
Scott was worried his talent had wavered vocally, lyrically, or by his guitar
playing. I know he was critical of his vocal performances, but he was also
appreciative of the many that I did point out to him as being very strong in my
opinion for whatever reasons. He was set on making sure he developed those
strengths more and more. About a week or two before he died, Scott and I went
out to dinner and while we were talking about the record he asked me if I would
listen to all his vocal performances to make sure they were as good as I
thought they could be. Of course I said I would. He mainly seemed to value my
opinion as a thoughtful and discerning listener, and I appreciated the chance
to be involved however I could help.
After Scott died, the
late Gil Ray told me that Scott was a little nervous to play him some demos of
the songs slated for this album. Apparently Scott said something like,
"You probably won't like them; they're probably not that good." But
again, I don't think that was so much a worry Scott had about losing his
ability to write songs. I think it was just a bit of insecurity stemming from a
desire to please. It had certainly been years since Gil drummed for Game
Theory. Even The Loud Family days, where Gil had joined again as drummer, had
long passed. Gil had continued to grow as a musical artist, releasing his
own solo album, "I Am Atomic Man." He even wrote Scott a song in
honor of Scott's 50th birthday. Gil and Scott were great friends and exchanged
suggestions for new music to check out. Since it had been 13 years since
the last Loud Family album and 7 years since the Loud Family and Anton Barbeau
record, I think Scott was just hoping his songs seemed as good to Gil at that later
date as they had when they were playing and touring together years earlier. I
got the sense that Scott was just hoping he still impressed his good friend
Gil, whose opinions he greatly admired.
As for his guitar
playing, I know he was proud of it. He would have to practice to work back up
to being able to play an entire set on the 12-string if he wanted, but that was
normal and he'd done it so many times. About two months before he died, I was
confiding in Scott about some things that were bringing me down. He was
supportive, and I told him I was going to get ready for bed. I went into the
bathroom attached to our bedroom and closed the door. Just as I was finishing
brushing my teeth, I heard Scott playing Tom Petty's "American Girl"
on the 12-string. I could tell he was sitting on the trunk in front of our bed
and facing the bathroom door. He knew "American Girl" was my favorite
song, and he was a Tom Petty fan, too. He must have been practicing this song
on various occasions when I wasn't home, and knowing I was a bit
"glum," as he would put it, decided it was a good time to play it in
an effort to cheer me up. I stopped brushing my teeth and stared at the closed
bathroom door listening. I didn't dare open the door, because I would miss some
of his playing, and I didn't want to disturb the vibe or something. He played
and sang the entire song. It was amazing and wonderful. When he was done, I
opened the door, looked at him sitting on that trunk, and smiled. Before I
could say anything, he grinned and said proudly, "And I even played the
entire guitar solo!" Yes, he did!
AW: How did Ken
Stringfellow assemble the musicians? Was it just as much people asking to be
included as Ken reaching out to them?
KC: After Scott died,
I immediately clung to this record. I knew Scott wanted to do it. I knew
which ideas he had for it that excited him and which alternatives stressed him
out or made him feel a loss of control over the process. Since it was still so
close and it was all I could hang onto and attempt to keep or at least not lose
with him, I almost immediately began asking a few of the artists if they would
be interested in participating.
This was partly due to the fact that Scott and I already had tickets to see
Peter Buck in May of 2013, only a month after Scott died. We had tickets to see
Robyn Hitchcock, too, but I couldn't get to that show, and as far as I knew
Scott had not contacted him about "Supercalifragile." I took my
friend Leslie with me to see Peter Buck, knowing Scott had already asked him if
he'd play mandolin on the record. I had met him before, and he was very
sensitive talking to me, due to Scott's very recent passing. When I brought up
the possibility of finishing Scott's record because I had material, and I knew
many of Scott's hopes and plans for the record, Peter said yes. He said
Scott had contacted him and he had told Scott he'd be happy to play on the
record. He told me to let him know whatever I needed.
I then spoke to Aimee
Mann, who was also considerably supportive and more than willing to help with
all of her resources. I had found in Scott's music files a version of "No
Love" that the two of them were working on together. I did not know Scott
had a completed demo of the song with him singing. I don't think Aimee knew the
song was that far along either. Then I spoke to Ken Stringfellow. I said
something like, "Remember when Scott was talking to you about helping him
produce a new record? Let me tell you what I've got..."
After talking to Ken
about Aimee and Peter and discussing in detail with him all of the music,
notes, lyrics, track listings, and sound files I had which made up the songs in
various forms of completion, Ken said he thought the record could be
done. I organized all of Scott's handwritten notes, lyrics, and sound memos
by song title with accompanying spreadsheets. Ken and I discussed the musicians
in Scott's world, to see who we might bring on board. I knew of a few very
specific people Scott wanted to perform, and in which capacities. Ken and
I worked together to contact people, but other than Scott's specific requests,
it was ultimately Ken's decision who would perform on the record and where
their contributions would work best. I did request Ken, who has a daughter
himself, finish Scott's songs for our daughters. A couple of artists who
admired Scott or had worked with him before did contact Ken with generous
offers and were able to contribute. Some others that were hoping to participate
ended up unavailable due to various logistical reasons. That was unfortunate, but
I could not be more pleased with the artists on board who generously donated
their time, talents, and often their own recording studios. I am grateful to
all of them for making this amazing record possible.
AW: With those who
sang lead, other than Scott, or co-wrote a song, how did they approach the
subject?
KC: That was really up
to each individual artist. For each song, Ken or I gave the artists Scott's
sound files or demos, his lyrics, and his notes on the lyrics or various parts
of the songs, like ideas for bridges or riffs, etc., and let the artists
continue to collaborate with Scott without Scott's further input. I think that
was a unique process to each artist. Of course I deferred to Ken to handle the
musical and recording questions and to give the artists any information they
might need as to how the album might be taking shape sonically. I think the
artists all knew Scott and/or his music in their own way and took their
connections to him and his music as starting points for their collaborations.
AW: Were you worried
that people would misinterpret the lyrics, with “Oh, Death” as an example?
KC: No, not at all.
The track listing for this record does sound a bit dark here and there, but as
one fan pointed out there are also themes of love and hope playing throughout
the record. When I met Scott in 1996, I had only really heard "Plants And
Birds And Rocks And Things" by The Loud Family. I had gone out looking for
Game Theory and Loud Family records after a friend of mine played me Game
Theory's "Lolita Nation" and "Plants and Birds" was the
record I found in my local Tower Records Store. Then I was fortunate enough to
meet Scott in the summer of 1996 as a new fan of his music. While we were
dating, there was no easy way to search lyrics to songs online. I did listen to
Scott's entire catalogue when he wasn't around (because naturally, he didn't
feel comfortable having me play his music with him in the room!). I got a sense
of the darker lyrics from careful listening, but most artists are self-reflective,
and I myself had written and choreographed creative things based on darker
thoughts. But Scott's music didn't really come across as dark to me. Many
of his songs came across as upbeat by the quicker tempos and the catchy
choruses and lyric couplets, like "Bad Year at U.C.L.A." Or at
least that's how they always seemed to me. And other songs had such beauty
to them that the overwhelming messages I got were not of hopelessness, but of
persevering through hard times and coming out on the other side relatively okay
once again, like "Regenisraen." The songs he wrote seemed a sort of
recollection of a trying time from a later perspective of resignation and
healing. I always felt his music was very honest in that way. And spending
time with him, he just wasn't a depressing person to be around. He had great
survival skills and usually a very rational way of looking at life, often with
a bit of humor. He didn't repeat himself much, but he did on several occasions
say, "Not everything is bad news" as a way to be supportive about
something not going as planned for me or for our daughters. There were
certainly many times when Scott kept things to himself. He would be quiet as if
not to trouble anyone with his thoughts. You couldn't get him to talk about
them, and if you tried he'd often feel a bit attacked and would become more
guarded and defensive. It seems his music was his outlet for his feelings and
darker thoughts. But they were his to express however he wanted to.
I also know that Scott
felt that once his songs were presented to the public they sort of belonged to
the fans in some sense. It didn't really matter how the fans interpreted them.
And I understood this due to my own experiences in dance with choreography. If
you move people in some way or get them to think about something, your work is
a success. What they get from it or take from it doesn't really
matter. If it's what you were communicating, that's certainly great, but
it's not necessary to make your work valid.
When I first heard
Scott working on "Oh, Death," I was at home doing household chores in
the kitchen. He was in the living room playing the guitar. When he stopped
I asked, "Which song is that?" He said, "It's a new one I'm
writing." I said, "It's the best one; what's it called?" He
said, "Oh, Death." I said, "Oh...well, that's
interesting, What inspired it?" He said, "Your heart surgery and
Valerie's seizure." Many of those lines of lyrics are exactly as he
wrote them, inspired by the four days inside the hospital getting the diagnosis
of my bacterial endocarditis. I don't recall him being late or chided, so I'm
not sure what inspired those lines, but about the first half of the song is
exactly as Scott had left it. When Ted Leo was asked to finish the song, he was
given the available lyrics and sound files for the chorus, verses, etc. He
finished writing the song by using what Scott had left, and adding his own
perspective on the subject, which seems to incorporate a bit of the truth of
today. I didn't feel Ted needed to know Scott's inspiration for the song,
and it never came up before he finished writing it. I think that this way it's
a perfect collaboration on the subject. So there are some uplifting
moments in a song about the fragility of life and the inevitable.
AW: Will Sheff did an
excellent job with "Kristine." How do you feel about it?
KC: When I first heard
Will's completed recording of "Kristine," I cried. I felt like I had
heard the song before even though I had not. I had heard sections while Scott
worked on it at home. Many fragments were fortunately recorded, but there was
one I heard that never was. One night in February of 2013, Scott called me into
the bedroom to hear one of the couplets he had just written. He was extremely
proud and excited about it and was eager for me to hear it as he said he had
been working to find a beautiful melody for a song about me. He sat on my side
of the bed and played the guitar and sang, "the road to here was hard to
miss, I drove it like a long summer kiss." I had no idea Scott would
write a lyric so creative and beautiful like that, but I was not at all
surprised that he did.
One thing I loved
about Scott was how unpredictable he was when expressing himself. Since he
died, I've often found myself thinking at times, "I wonder what Scott would
say about this." I usually know the general sentiment, but I have
little inklings as to how he would verbalize it. He was very funny, but he
didn't have catchphrases or make the same joke twice. And when he told
stories, he usually told them differently each time. He didn't change the
facts, and I knew this because he'd tell stories about events we experienced
together, but his commentary about the facts would be unique each time. A
light joke might occur in a different place in the story reflecting his perspective
previously not revealed in another version of the story. Yet each time, the
comments were, of course, very believable as being drawn from Scott's own
thoughts. That's how I think all of us close to him knew him. We
knew generally how he'd feel about things, but not always how he would talk
about them or describe them or his thoughts about them.
When I heard
"Kristine," I cried because I thought, "Yes, that's
Scott. And that's how he felt about us and our relationship and our
journey in this life together." I had known the sentiment, but now it was
put into beautiful words. I had heard many of those words in the sound
memos he left behind, but some were recorded so quietly it was difficult for me
to hear them clearly. Scott had privacy when he worked on music, but he rarely
locked himself in a room. I just went about my own business and let him
be. Many of the sound memos for "Kristine" were recorded very softly,
as if they were a secret. Will, of course, used better listening equipment than
I did when I organized all of the material for the record. I wrote down the
lyrics I could hear in one of the spreadsheets I had made and gave it to Will.
As one example, I remember writing "being with you is..." and I
couldn't hear the last word. Later after Will completed the song, I listened to
the sound files with Scott's headphones and heard what Will heard: "being
with you is asylum."
Among his many musical
talents, Will Sheff seems to have a special ability to empathize with
characters or people he presents in his own songs. He writes and performs the
songs from the emotional perspectives of those characters. Will heard all the
lyrics Scott was quietly singing or almost whispering in the sound memos, and
he also called me to talk about Scott, his creative process, and our life
together. From this information and Scott's handwritten notes on the sound
memos, Will seemed to be able to discover Scott's perspective and where he was
going with the song and what he wanted to say. I get very emotional every time I
hear it. Those are Scott's feelings, finally put together using his own
words. I am forever grateful to Will Sheff for such a gift. It's my
favorite song on the record.
AW: Are there plans
for maybe a label picking up "Supercalifragile?"
KC: None that I am
aware of, but I'm open to the idea.
AW: What’s your
favorite song on the album?
KC: I guess I answered
that already: "Kristine." But I would say a close second is
"All You Need Is White." I remember Scott excited about that
song and making tweaks on it now and then here at the house. I love his
vocal performance, the rhyming sequences, and the overall energy of the song.
It's so great!
AW: How did Valerie
and Julianne feel about the songs their dad wrote, and about
"Supercalifragile" in general?
KC: Both girls love
their songs and are flattered by the sentiments expressed. I take a small
amount of credit as I used to tell Scott that one of them is my heart and the
other my light. I always said that I know I'm not supposed to attach
labels to my children, so I made it clear to him and to the girls that they
both share both of those roles, but that's how their initial personalities
presented themselves to me when they were born. This was a bit of an
inspiration for Scott's songwriting process.
As for the record in
general, we've been talking about it or working on it for about the past 4
years. That's nearly as long as Scott has been gone, and it's a major amount of
time in the lives of girls who are only 11 and 15. They understand the process
and why it's important to me. It's important to them, too, but mostly to them
this record represents the smallest fraction of the person they knew mostly as
their dad, and it's taken center stage much of the time. I think finishing
this record and getting to a point where I won't be shipping out records will
be a healthy place for all of us to be. I would certainly like to remember
Scott and his music and share that with the girls on our own terms, when we
feel it is a good time. Right now, this record keeps us in a certain
space. It has its comforts, certainly, but it can in some ways keep us
from moving forward. But the music is really good, and the girls are proud
of it and the work we've all done. I think one day, they'll be glad I saw it
through.
AW:Who is Mrs. Mills?
KC: Mrs. Mills listed
in the credits for the song, "I Still Dream of Getting Back to
Paris," refers to an upright Steinway Vertegrand piano at Abbey Road
Studios in London. It's been slightly modified to give it a unique sound.
The Beatles recorded several songs with this piano including, "Penny
Lane." The piano got its name from Gladys Mills, also known as
"Mrs. Mills," who was an English pianist in the 60s and 70s. She
recorded many songs using this piano at Abbey Road, and so now the piano is referred
to as "Mrs. Mills."
AW: Is there anything
else you'd like to say about the album?
KC: Not long after
Scott died, Stéphane Schuck, a longtime friend of
Scott's contacted me from his home in Paris to express his sorrow and
condolences. He also made sure I knew that the songs he and Scott were
working on were available to me for whatever purpose I thought would be best
for our daughters and me. When I told Stéphane I wanted to finish Scott's album
and release those songs, Stéphane generously donated the session at Abbey Road
Studios in London to complete another song he and Scott had been working on
together. Stéphane and Scott had discussed ideas
and chords for "I Still Dream of Getting Back to Paris," but because
nothing was recorded and the song existed mainly in concept only, this is the
one song where Scott did not receive a co-writing credit. In the last
email Scott wrote to Stephane, he signed it "I still dream of getting back
to Paris, --Scott" Stéphane said those words fit the melody line that he and
Scott had in mind, and so that became the title and starting point for the
lyrics to the song. It was a bit heartbreaking seeing Stéphane and his wonderful family again
in Europe at the Abbey Road Sessions for the first time without Scott, and two
years after Scott had left us, but one of the most heartwarming positives was
that I was able to bring three areas of Scott's musical world together: Anton
Barbeau, Ken Stringfellow, and Stéphane Schuck all met each other for the first time for
the recording of that song. The three of them have since worked together
on another project. Jozef Becker, Scott's best friend since childhood and
one of Scott's drummers, joined us at Abbey Road to meet Stéphane and play drums for the
"Paris" song. So it was emotional yet wonderful and somewhat
magical, too. After the sessions, Stéphane and his family took great care
of me during a short visit to Paris where I stayed in their flat. I had to
get back to Paris for Scott. Scott and I traveled to Paris on our honeymoon and
had been there two additional times together. It was sad to be there without
him, but I had a lot of love from Stéphane and his family. I am so thankful Scott had these
wonderful people in his life, and I appreciate all their love, generosity, and
ongoing support. They are loved.
Many thanks and
appreciation go to Ken Stringfellow for overseeing every musical aspect of this
record and for being emotionally supportive along the way. He was also always
open to any of my requests and ideas, like opening with a sound collage, which
Dan Vallor did an amazing job of creating. Dan had the same idea I did for the
opening guitar and keyboard part, a signature of every other Game Theory record
in the series. Of all the 258 sound files Dan was given to choose from for the
collage, he happened to find and use some of the very files I was going to
suggest, before I could even suggest them. And then he created this
incredible collage. I couldn't be happier with his wonderful contribution.
And Chris Xefos, who
mixed "Time Warner" had an idea to put some samples of Scott speaking
in the instrumental section. He asked me to send him some home videos from
which he could pull sound. At his request, I went through every video on
Scott's phone that he had taken. There were some funny and some beautiful
moments Scott had captured from his perspective on the world as a family
man. I am thankful Chris put many of Scott's "at home or out with the
daughters" voice samples in Time Warner for posterity.
I am forever grateful
to all the musical talent who worked on this record. The songs and the
production are amazing, and I think Scott would be honored and quite
proud. I thank everyone who helped me to help Scott finish the record he
wanted to make. I told Scott I would support him however he needed in order for
him to make this record. Thank you everyone for helping me keep my promise
to him. Making his final words to all of us available to everyone is the last
gift I can give him. And to make it all the more beautiful, this record
completely exceeded my very high expectations.
Thank you, all.
Love,
Kristine
(Link to my interview with Scott, BandCamp for the album.)
