When we last saw David Yow and his Chicago-based band the Jesus Lizard it was 2018, and Yow, then in his late 50s, opened up the band’s Riot Fest show by walking directly off stage and leaping into the audience. That was for song number one. A year before, the Wall Street Journal, writing about Yow’s return to concert stages, headlined the story, “Am I Too Old to Stage Dive?” See, the thing is, it’s six years later. Yow is now 64, and the Jesus Lizard are playing this new festival on Saturday, the Salt Shed’s Warm Love Cool Dreams.
At the risk of sounding impolite: Should one stage dive at 64?
We will soon find out, because Jesus Lizard has returned with its first album in 26 years — and in many ways, it’s like no time has passed at all. The title, “Rack,” continues the band’s tradition of four-letter titles — “Goat” (1991), “Liar” (1992) — and the sound remains the sound of an old train chug-chug-chugging its way up a mountain of gravel, exploding into speed, then grinding to a noisy stop. Jesus Lizard, for a time, felt like the missing link between classic rock and grunge. They were, in many ways, a quintessential ‘90s act: They played on the earliest iteration of Lollapalooza; they split a single with Nirvana; they had a song on the “Clerks” soundtrack (“Panic in Cicero”); they worked closely with ‘90s it-producer Steve Albini; they left one hipster paradise (Austin, Texas) for another (early ‘90s Chicago); they signed to Chicago’s great indie label Touch and Go, only to be lured to the big leagues (Capitol Records), flounder and crumble.
They’ve gotten back together for the occasional tour since, but until the past few weeks, they had no new songs to play. Yow, for his part, remained a wandering soul. He had a nice little career in indie films. Made a solo album. Reunited with his first band, the post-punk pioneers Scratch Acid; briefly joined the longtime punk band Flipper; then even joined a new band, the Los Angeles duo Qui. He paid bills by doing photo retouching.
And yes, when Yow climbed back on stage, he often left that stage by diving headlong into the crowd. I spoke with Yow by phone the other day before his return to Chicago stages. The following is an short version of a longer chat, edited for clarity and length.
Q: Are you still jumping into audiences?
A: If they’re there! We have done five shows since recording this record and at each, I jumped into the audience. Once we knew we would be touring I hired a personal trainer and three times a week I train for an hour and he puts me though sheer hell. It’s helped with endurance and stamina, otherwise I really doubt I could do a 90-minute show.
Q: Do you feel an obligation to jump in? You’re not who you were 30 years ago.
A: Sort of, kind of. But I like it because then I don’t have to support my own weight. Being tossed around by these people instead of standing there and dancing or whatever you’re supposed to do as an entertainer, it is easier. It’s better than acting reasonable.
Q: Why did Jesus Lizard decide 26 years later to even do this?
A: It’s a great question and one I asked myself. To a degree, Duane (Denison, guitarist) and David (Wm. Sims, bassist) came up with songs and presented them to me almost like a sales pitch and I was impressed. I thought we should make a record, which was weird because at no point did I feel a need to write more songs with Jesus Lizard. It surprised me. When we finally decided to do this, it was not easy to drop back in and write new songs. I felt like I had forgotten how to do that, but then, I never knew how to do it anyway. I don’t consider myself a musician. I don’t understand music theory and I can’t play chords. I don’t usually write songs. So I did this thing called automatic writing and I would allot myself to just write nonstop, clearing your head, just getting it down, sometimes poetic, sometimes complete gibberish, but then you can cull ideas from that.
Q: The record sounds so much of a piece with the ‘90s ones, was there ever a desire to update the sound, make something very different from the old records?
A: Not that I know of. We never discussed that. We are still the same guys. The only real difference from back in the old days — less hair, more wrinkles and we are better at what we do. The (rest of the band) kept busy playing, and I even took singing lessons for a while. I can actually hit notes now. Krist Novoselic from Nirvana and Pat Smear and the guy who played drums, what’s his name (Dave Grohl), wanted me to do this thing with them in Seattle at Experience Music (now the Museum of Pop Culture), and Krist wanted me to sing because he thought Kurt (Cobain) would have wanted that. We started practicing and I realized Kurt was a good singer on a lot of the Nirvana songs. He hit high registers. He was an actual singer. I couldn’t do it. So I hired a coach, then it didn’t happen. Grohl wanted actual rock stars — Paul McCartney, Neil Young — to do it.
Q: Why did Jesus Lizard move to Chicago in 1987?
A: Well, because David (Wm. Sims) and I were in Scratch Acid, which broke up. He and the drummer had started a band with Steve Albini called Rapeman — the stupidest band name in the history of the world. Dave was moving to Chicago because Albini was there and I was going to be their drum tech. So we got in his Subaru then drove to Chicago.
Q: Albini died in May. When was the last time you spoke with him?
A: I’m not sure the actual last time, but I have a text from a week before he died. He got wind we were making a record. He texted: “Dude, you guys are making an album? People will just (expletive) themselves.” That was the last thing I ever heard from Steve. As eloquent as he was — no one had a larger vocabulary — he would use “Dude” a lot.
Jesus Lizard, Sextile, Provoker, King Woman, Bendik Giske and AITIS at 3:30 p.m. Sept. 28 at Salt Shed, 1357 N. Elston Ave.; www.saltshedchicago.com
cborrelli@chicagotribune.com
