AR: So how did you guys meet, how did you get started, and how did you choose the name—The Squirrels?
SF: Well, hmm. Oooh, a triple question to start things off! You’re not playing around. Well, let’s see, so we were just a couple of guys, like every band, playing around in high school in my step-step grandfather on my mother’s best friend’s sister’s side’s garage (I was adopted). Brandon and Aaron and I. We met Brian later when he was busking outside the Steak and Shake in our neighborhood. Couldn’t play a note on the little ukelele he had built to save his life. Couldn’t sing either. So we asked him if he would play odds and ends for us. Then my insanely wealthy cousin who’s much older than me offered us a gig at his son’s bar mitzvah. We played for four hours and they hated us. Because we didn’t have any songs at the time. Just spoken word nonsense and—we didn’t even have instruments. We just stood around shouting. There was a band there that played back up. Actually we did record that and used part of it on the album. It’s track 4 [“Interlusionale”]. The name comes from … well let’s just say we really like squirrels. Really.
AR: So what was the inspiration for your first album—“The Squirrels of Fate”? Did it grow out of experiences and shows like that?
SF: Well, it was years in the making. We wanted to try all different kinds of styles while remaining true to our roots, which is in the indie emo realm, whatever that really is you know. So yeah, the idea was to push ourselves to grow and kind of get over our sophomore slump on our very first album, you know just get it out of the way first thing, so that when we really have a sophomore record we can just settle in to our familiar sound and nobody will complain.
AR: Tell me a little bit more about your process.
SF: Well, we take walks—on the beach, up to Tabor, through downtown, over to Boston (literally, we walk the 4,087 kilometers!)—talking and dreaming up crazy concepts for our songs. Then we stretch—whenever we reach our destination—and do sprints. At this point we start cooking up melodies for the lyrics. Then we hit the gym. Brian loves the adductor. In fact, that’s about all he does. The rest of us free lift, you know three sets of twelve per station. I really focus on my back. Brandon will sometimes do one set at each station and run like a circuit—but only when we’re really stuck on something and need to think oustide the box, you know. That’s when we figure out how to perform the songs live, by the way. Then we usually cool down with another walk on the track followed by a smoothie in the café. Aaron always gets raspberry and taro. Next we’ll often go to a bar down the street and that’s where we draw out the album art on napkins before Timmy (our manager) scans them and sends them to this graphic artist outside of Chicago who works them up and prints them for us. He’s the best. That really seems to be the best way for us. The process really informs the formation of the songs.
AR: Can you give a for-instance?
SF: Well, let’s take “Dance Yrself Clean.” That’s a line I actually saw a girl text at Lucky Louie’s in Baltimore after a show in the middle of the process.
AR: You mentioned a moment ago that you wanted to stay true to your roots while exploring new territory. Talk about some of your influences.
SF: Well, Weezer obviously is a big one. Thin Lizzy, Joy Division, The Heavy to name a few. Alabama Wombat Gala sort of mentored us. Koffee Kats were the first band we toured with. Radiohead, U2, Coldplay, Gang of Four, The Cars, Apollo Sunshine, Steamboat Willie and the Blankfaced Laughing Man Men, Arcade Wire, Portisfoot, Jimi Tendrils, Agatha Christmas, Blonde Bombdingers, Tilly Billy Shilly Really, The Fruitflies, Foregone Conclusion, White Rabbits, and of coures, the Chipmunks of Fate. In fact, obviously, as you can tell, the name of our album is in tribute to them and especially Ben Chipmunk—rest in peace, buddy [looks up at the ceiling and crosses himself] we’re coming after ya.
AR: Some critics have leveled the charge that you guys are just too “weird.” How do you handle criticism like that?
SF: Well, no comment. I mean it just hurts, you know. You put all this work into making an album weird and the critics, they nail it, I mean they get it but they don’t get it. You know what I mean? I mean they see that it’s weird and they can articulate that it’s weird but they can’t just let it be weird. They have to go and call it weird. And that just hurts man. I mean what are we supposed to do? I think critics are weird—present company excepted.
AR: Thanks. So what’s next for The Squirrels?
SF: Well, we plan to live together on a farm for six months to record our next album, “Buried Walnuts.” Aaron has an old piano and we rigged up fireworks to the black keys to explode when we play it. Should be fun. Oh, and we have lots of carrots stored up. We’re going to make juice. And this is on a walnut farm, so we’re going to pick, bury and dig up all the walnuts to get hands on experience. Of course, we’ll be taking lots of walks too.
Andrew Ricehausen is a contributing writer for Pitchspoon Magazine.
The Squirrels will be on tour all summer. Visit their website for more info. Squirrels.com
