Jesse Keeler, from stockbroker to rock bassist

Sam Bloch Staff Writer

When I called Jesse Keeler, the bassist/keyboardist/songwriter of Toronto-based Death From Above 1979 on Oct. 26, I apparently caught him at a particularly good moment. His band, described by Wikipedia as "loud synth infused noise-funk," ("dance rock" will suffice) is notorious for giving interviewers a hard time. So I made sure to come with a laundry list of snide questions with hopes of catching him off-guard. I later realized this was foolish. We ended up talking for an hour longer than the band's manager allotted for me, candidly discussing the duo's musical pedigree, lack of a rock and roll lifestyle, and their ignorance of college life. But don't be fooled by Mr. Nice Guy: when their mustachioed tushies take their act to UpCDC on Nov. 4 with Man Man and Vassar’s own Genghis Tron, you will not be smiling. I don't know what you're going to be doing, but you will probably be having more fun than you did at Clap Your Hands Say Yeah.

The Miscellany News: How would you describe your music?
Jesse Keeler: Fast and loud music. That’s it. It’s rock music. It’s not my job to describe my band’s music. That’s your job. [laughs]
MN: So what else would you do, if not perfoming?
JK: DJ, be in the studio. That’s my favorite thing about music, recording it. Playing live isn’t making music, it’s just repeating music.
MN: Do you like playing live?
JK: It has its charms, but it’s not the same. It’s not being creative in the same way, but I’m content to keep doing it.
MN: So why not create new music live? Why not improvise or mess around a bit?
JK: I do that a bit. We play with things to entertain ourselves, and we experiment all the time. But the audience didn’t pay to watch me masturbate. There are lots of people who feel comfortable doing that, but I’m not one of them.
MN: Would you ever put your music in commercials? What about on The O.C.?
JK: Sure. The money’s there. I follow the dollar. I’d do The O.C. I’ve never see it before, but the audience is a bunch of kids who haven’t heard about us before. It’s just more people who are able to hear our music. I’m not interested in being anyone’s little secret.
MN: Even though [drummer/singer] Sebastian [Grainger] writes most of the band’s lyrics, I know you have some input. Do you think girls are weirded out by songs like “Pull Out,” (“1, 2, 3, push in/1, 2, 3, pull out/Let your spirit free, girl”)?
JK: I wouldn’t want to date a girl who wasn’t into that, so, no. If any girl was in any way [weirded out] by what we’re doing, I’d give them shit.
MN: What about some of the more earnest songs, like “Romantic Rights” (“Come here baby, I love your company/We could do it and start a family”) or “Going Steady” (“I will never make you suffer/I will never hurt you mother”)? Are those supposed to be ironic?
JK: There isn’t very much irony in our lyrics. On songs like “Romantic Rights” [with “I don’t need you/I want you” as a chorus], don’t you think it’s more romantic that I’d want to be with you rather than by some stars being aligned?
MN: Are you friends with fellow Torontians Broken Social Scene? Or do you just want to give them a bunch of swirlies and take their lunch money?
JK: I hang out with the drummer every night [in Toronto]. He’s really into rap, so we just sit around listening to Mobb Deep together. They’re a real motley crew. Lots of different levels of extreme mellow.
MN: Is there competition between the two of you?
JK: They’re the only people I’d like to have friendly competition with. But we totally smoke them anyway.
MN: Okay. Vassar is totally psyched to have DFA79 play here. I mean, our radio station’s logo was based on your album cover.
JK: I’m excited to see it, my art immortalized. I’ll accept it as flattery.
MN: Did you go to college?
JK: When I was a stockbroker at Merrill Lynch, I toyed with the idea of going to school, but everyone I was working with was, like, “why?” Sebastian and I were never that interested in school. I could never be taught anything new, only what’s already happened. And that didn’t appeal to me. I know only four or five people who went to [college], so it’s a really foreign environment to me. Only a few days ago I learned the difference between fraternities and sororities. One’s better to break into, right? [laughs] I learned that from Porky’s.
MN: You sound like an old dude. How old are you?
JK: I’m 29.
MN: Do you feel old?
JK I don’t feel old or look old, but I’ve done a lot. I’ve found that aging is like being on a swing that’s slowly stopping. It’s boring, coming down between two extremes.
MN: What have you done? I mean, how did you get to be a stockbroker for Merrill Lynch without a degree? Not to trivialize your life, but could you just sort of lay it all down for me?
JK: I left high school still selling drugs, and then I got into demolition. From there, I stole scrap metal, then I started selling gemstones, then I became a broker, then I worked at an accounting firm, then I managed a tool and dye shop, then I got into graphic design, and then the DFA album came out, and I didn’t have to do stupid jobs anymore. What I’m doing now is what I want to do. It pays well, and I like every single day of work.
MN: What about your parents? What did they think of all of this?
JK: My mom told me that school is like the snooze button on the alarm clock of life. I don’t want to say “college is bad,” but it just wasn’t for me. If you know what you want to do with your life, it’s easier to keep your eyes on the prize. Otherwise you end up losing your track. My dad always said, “make sure you get paid. If you can get paid up front, do it.” That’s the number one. Like, jazz musicians, they wouldn’t even bring their instruments if they weren’t getting paid up front.
MN: So I take it that, despite rumors to the contrary, you and Sebastian didn’t meet in prison.
JK: I don’t know who the hell started that rumor. It went around and around and around.
MN: But you didn’t try to dispel it.
JK: In interviews, I’d say “I don’t remember,” because that’s a way to get out of answering the next question.
MN So don’t live in a funeral home, either?
JK: I do live in an old funeral home. In the last few months, I realized my house was haunted, even though I didn’t think so before. I was in bed one night, and suddenly there was something in the corner of the room. It came towards me and pushed my face into the bed, and I pushed it back and eventually it went away. A few nights later, the same thing happened to my roommate on the other side of the house. I guess it was just some angry motherfucker passing through. At first I didn’t think it was such a big deal living in a funeral home. Nobody dies there, they’re just embalmed there.
MN: Can we talk about that drug dealing stuff? Do you do any drugs now? You strike me as more of a drinker.
JK: I have a drinking problem. I assume this is the best time to do it.
MN: What are you like when you’re drunk?
JK: I’m just really even at that point. Most people probably don’t have six to ten drinks a day, but that’s guaranteed for me. I’ve been drinking like that for three to four years.
MN: Do you ever get really sick or pass out?
JK: Not really. My alcohol tolerance is really high. I dated this girl for a while who could have 15 rum and cokes, and not be drunk at all. I’m just normal when I’m drunk.
MN: Is it cool to wear a DFA 79 shirt to your concert, even if its homemade?
JK: I can’t answer that question. That’s up for you to figure out on your own.

Three daft DFA1979 songs

"Blood on Our Hands"
You've got it all wrong! They're just a dance band! Listen to the overwrought double-tracked choruses that dominate the best Daft Punk songs, or the start and stop bass lines on every Dr. Dre song: yes, they are on this song, too.

"Black History Month"
Not actually about February. So then I guess this is DFA1979's answer to The Cure, and not Martin Luther King, Jr. It's kind of gothic and sludgy and, much like "10:15 Saturday Night," is in a minor key. Fancy that! Features the immortally creepy line "hold on, children / your best friend's parents are leaving," which is about as good as it gets when you're listening to a record by two guys with porn star facial hair.