Jason NeSmith, alias Casper Fandango, is the leader of Casper & the Cookies, the Athens-based band known for its rigorous and eccentric creativity, pop craftsmanship, and sugar-high stage presence. (The current lineup includes Kay Stanton – who also provides vocals – as well as Jim Hicks and Joe Rowe.) They’ve released two albums, both on Happy Happy Birthday to Me – first Oh! and, just last year, The Optimist’s Club, which met with wide critical acclaim in the indie music press. NeSmith, who previously recorded as Casper Fandango and His Tiny Sick Tears with the CD release of How’s Your Hand? (more on this in a minute), has also played with Of Montreal and The Late B.P. Helium, toured with The Apples in Stereo, and recently mastered the new albums by High Water Marks and Ideal Free Distribution (among others). Here he talks to Optical Atlas about his latest recordings and his band’s recent triumph backing Daniel Johnston at the 2007 Athens PopFest.
I’ve been listening to the How’s Your Hand? album this last week, and – well, it’s really good – but it’s fascinating how some of it has the scattershot, throw-everything-at-the-wall quality of a mix tape you might make of your own recordings for a few friends, and other stuff really points in the direction you’d head with Casper & the Cookies. When did you start recording as Casper Fandango, and at what point did you decide to expand to include the Cookies?
I’ve been recording both by myself and with friends since 1982 or so when I was about ten. But the Casper project didn’t come about until 1996. Consumer was the first cassette to be released under the name Casper Fandango & the Knees. It was recorded from 1993-1996. It’s a real slapdash collection.
I wanted every Casper record to have a different band name. I thought it shouldn’t be a problem since I was usually the only one on the albums. The How’s Your Hand? cassette was recorded in 1996 under the moniker Casper Fandango & His Tiny Sick Tears. I released it on cassette in 1997. Then I saved my money and put it out on CD in November 2000. I didn’t know if I’d ever get a second CD out, so I cannibalized the best songs from Consumer and How’s Your Hand? That’s the reason the album has a mix tape feel. In retrospect I probably should have just put out the original version. I’d like to rerelease that one day. I tried to rationalize it by thinking, well, many of my favorite records feel disjointed – Zappa’s We’re Only In It For the Money, the Monkees‘ Headquarters, Faust Tapes. I was quite happy recording the albums essentially on my own until I had a dedicated group of players. Kay was the first one to stick around, so she plays bass on everything since Oh!
I put together The Cookies in 1998 with members of other bands I was involved with – Christo Harris from Orange Hat, Kay from Feyerabend, Ben Spraker from Ceiling Fan, and Kenny Howes. The name Cookies was never meant to stick around for longer than one album, but it has – perhaps unfortunately – outlasted four major lineup changes. Kay and I came sooo close to changing our name right after The Optimist’s Club came out, but Jim and Joe wanted to keep it. Band names suck, especially ours.
Did you see CATC as pursuing a direction that was more defined than in your earlier recordings?
I try not to repeat myself. When I was younger I wanted to try everything that sounded new and weird to me. But over time patterns have emerged. I seem to do better at pop music than I am at writing avant-garde compositions. But I still try to push into other areas. The goal has always been to surprise myself and share the best results with everyone else. Hopefully I’ve built a better filter since How’s Your Hand?
I’ve also been listening, over and over, to your terrific cover of “Sweet Pea” on your new EP. You always pick some unexpected covers in your live shows. When you listen to 60’s music, what do you find yourself listening to? And what would you consider to be your more modern influences/inspirations?
I like the sound of ’60s records in general – the tape machines, the equipment and how they innovated to conquer limitations. I like noisy stuff and gentle stuff and commercial stuff. But the stuff I gravitate towards usually comes from L.A., like The Mothers of Invention, The Monkees and The Turtles. The San Francisco bands tended to take themselves too seriously. Hollywood bands had a better sense of humor, great songwriters and great session players.
In terms of new music, I listen to Deerhoof quite a bit. I like Cornelius and the Dirty Projectors. Nick Lowe’s been around for over 35 years and still puts out great records. He and Robyn Hitchcock have shown how you can have real longevity making pop records. One thing that separates me – for better or worse – from most of the other E6-style bands is my appreciation of songcraft. I’m not saying I’ve got a big head about my own songwriting. I’m just saying I tend to appreciate something as traditional as a love song a lot quicker than most of my other musician friends. Harry Nilsson, Nick Lowe, and NRBQ are some examples of artists that don’t tend to excite my friends but from whom I get a great deal of inspiration.
And aside from writing some of the catchiest songs known to man, Robert Schneider is the nicest guy I’ve ever met. He’s very inspiring to be around.
Probably my biggest modern influence is my friend Don Condescending from The Shut-Ups. We met in Atlanta in sixth grade, started a band immediately and continued to play music together until after I moved to Athens. In a way I learned songwriting from him. I still feel like I’m just trying to catch up with him.
What are you listening to right now?
A band called Arizona. They’re from New York, though they live in Asheville now. They play a sort of progressive folk pop. Their new EP Fameseeker and the Mono is really fantastic. And I’ve been listening to Faust again.
What’s the new album going to be like?
The working title is Modern Silence. We’ll be playing lots of the new songs on our upcoming tour to prepare them for the studio, which is the way I’ve been wanting to record for years and never yet had the chance.
I’m letting the album reveal itself to me slowly. The plan of attack is to record lots more than you need and see where it takes you. We’ve already started recording even though we haven’t finished writing. I’ve still got some unfinished work to do, and I’m waiting to see what else Kay’s going to throw into the pot.
This time around my songs are a lot more in the Sparks/Randy Newman school of songwriting. It’s all about the Unreliable Narrator, kids. The last couple of albums were relatively earnest, which is not usually my favorite kind of writing. There are some unsavory characters in store. Also, this will be the first time I’m recording with the same band that helped hatch the songs. And it’s safe to assume they will also be the band to go on tour after the record’s out. Our previous records have primarily been just myself and Kay with a rotating cast of short-timers.
What was it like to play with Daniel Johnston? From what everyone told me, he was one of your idols.
I used to listen to Hi, How Are You? and Yip/Jump Music constantly from 1991-1996. It was particularly fascinating because I was doing similar kinds of recordings when I was a kid. I didn’t know Daniel was actually twenty-two when he made those, even though he sings “Oooh, I’m only twenty-two.” His voice was so high and pure I thought for sure he was, y’know, eight. So he was me in a parallel universe, a much more bi-polar one.
Anyway, it had been a few years since I went through a Daniel Johnston phase when Mike Turner asked us if we wanted to be his backing band. So I was sorta blasé about it. “Sure, Mike, I guess that’d be cool. I mean, let me ask the guys, and I’ll get back to you.” Then I got home and told Kay about it, and it dawned on us how fucking cool it was going to be. The movie The Devil and Daniel Johnston was just out on DVD, and everyone in the band had just watched it. We were all excited and nervous at the same time. His sense of rhythm has never been his strong point, and he’s generally not a very predictable guy. So what if we got on stage with him and it just didn’t happen? What if he was ducking his meds? I exchanged a few e-mails with his brother/road manager Dick Johnston and watched some recent live footage on YouTube so I knew what I was in for.
The Cookies practiced his songs pretty hardcore for a couple of weeks. We had to be prepared for anything. I felt like Paul Schaffer of the Underworld. So the day of the show he was late for soundcheck, which would be our only opportunity to rehearse with him. I was trying to be professional about it, talking to Dick and Brett Hartenbach, Daniel’s acoustic accompanist, but the whole time I was trying not to stare at Daniel. Like the Beatles visiting Graceland. “That sure is Elvis.”
I was hoping for a closed rehearsal just in case it didn’t go so well. But there’s three other bands waiting to soundcheck, and a bunch of other curious folks. And we’re all nervous as shit. The 40 Watt was thick with anxiety. We ran through one song all the way, which I think was “Museum of Love.” The song ended, and Daniel said, “This band is really good.” And all the anxiety just vanished. We ran through the first fifteen seconds of the rest of the songs, and that was all the rehearsal we had until the show. Which I think went really well, if I do say so myself. It was one of the best performances I’ve ever seen Daniel give, and I just happened to be playing for him.
I did think the show went extraordinarily well. I was listening to Sloan Simpson’s recording and it seemed like toward the end of “Casper the Friendly Ghost” Daniel started to say something, like he was trying to get the band to wrap up the jamming or something, so I wonder if he wasn’t expecting you guys to rock so hard. But I hold that track up as the perfect CATC/Daniel Johnston synthesis. I’ve already put it on a mix CD I made for some friends.
When I listen to that track, I think it’s going so well, and then we play that riff far too long and screw it up. I do think there were moments in that song where we stepped on his toes a little bit. But we just started dancing with him, right?
So if you could be the backing band of another legend, who would it be?
The next logical step would be Brian Wilson. In the not-yet-a-legend category it would be the Dirty Projectors. Dave Longstreth writes some really fun rhythms and harmonies. From the dead guys I would have really liked to be with Beefheart or Zappa, but I might pick Vivian Stanshall from the Bonzo Dog Band. He didn’t fashion his band leadership style on Mussolini.
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