Sitting Indian style in front of Plaza Artist Materials following a Columbus Day performance at Strange Matter, Shawn Rosenblatt, the sole consistent member of Netherfriends, adjusts his greasy, disheveled hair to the side. “Today I felt very ugly for awhile,” he says. “It’s a very self-conscious, superficial thing... It was unbelievable.” An amusingly odd thought from a guy with the address and appearance of a vagrant who, soon after, tells me he woke up that morning on a hardwood floor in Philadelphia. Full of energy, and a knack for elaboration, Rosenblatt began to flow, permitting me little room for questioning, and himself only a quick “like,” or “you know”--verbalized pauses to allow his brain to catch up with his mouth.
"Brett Easton Ellis Novel"
Rosenblatt is in the midst of a year-long project of playing, writing and recording in all 50 states. He purposely plays with a varied roster of musicians. “I’ve been picking out people--being just like, ‘hey, do you want to go on tour?’” he says. “Finding people that are fans, or people that I think are pretty substantial musicians to bring on the road.” Rosenblatt struggles with the traditional sense of having a band that records and tours together. He believes the only plausible way to tour--for the Netherfriends at least--is to rotate musicians in and out along the way. “Every band deals with it, and I can’t believe bands exist. Because touring with the same lineup all the time--it baffles me that people can do it.”
Fluctuating musical aptitude poses a problem with Rosenblatt’s ideology of transient tour members. Sometimes it works, but inevitably there are difficulties with his method. “It’s the nice thing about knowing that this isn’t going to be permanent that let’s you [say], ‘Well, this kind of sucks, but I’ll just go with it.’” There’s not much of a choice, just the option of the willing and able, or quasi-able. “I’m able to pay people 10 bucks a show, that’s kind of the limit,” he said. “And I barely get by with it.” But even with bad shows, Rosenblatt said that there’s usually something positive that can be taken away. He’s working on what he calls the 50 Songs 50 States project, which involves him writing, recording, and subsequently performing in all 50 states, plus DC--take that, Sufjan! “That’s the one thing that keeps me kind of sane,” he says. “If I play a shitty show then at least I’m playing a show in the state at which I need to play. You know, even if it’s for three people. At least I’m accomplishing this state.”
Rosenblatt is no stranger to the DIY ethos--nor to an empty wallet--and he prides himself on “killing two (three) birds with one stone: writing, recording and playing at the same time.” Recording by himself comes out of necessity; learning how to record at a young age helps, too. For the Netherfriends’ debut full-length, Barry and Sherry, he ventured solo to his then-girlfriend’s parents’ empty suburban home in Apple Valley, MN. There, he invested a week in June 2009 with a Moog interface recorder, Roland SP-555 sampler, Fender organ, drum set, guitar, and amplifier. “They weren’t living there, she wasn’t there,” he relates. “It was just me by myself in this empty house in Minnesota. I was like, ‘This is perfect.’ I knew that this was the place, and I just drove for seven hours to Minnesota to record. I was waking up every morning, recording all day. All I had was a 24-pack of beer and some food. It was super depressing because there was no Internet. They had two VHS tapes--I watched some movie with Kiefer Sutherland. It was so pathetic and sad, and there was this moment where I was like, ‘This is it--all I can do is record and write this album.’ And that’s what I did.”
While recording, Rosenblatt barely, if ever, left the house, and recorded most of the album in his underwear. “Who am I trying to impress? I’m just here to record,” he explains, with an awkward shrug and “oops” hand gesture. He suggests that one of the reasons he didn’t leave the house was because “the suburbs kind of frighten me. I always think of, like, serial killers coming to kill you, you know? And there were a lot of windows, so like, I kind of freaked out a little bit. Like, somebody’s watching me in my underwear right now, recording at, like, two in the morning. I was pretty nervous.”
Despite paranoia and sadness brought on by this unfamiliar environment, it granted him the solemnness to concentrate and crank out the ramshackle, ethereal-psych pop of Barry and Sherry. The album features not only Rosenblatt’s vocals, synths, samples, guitar and piano, but also his drumming--a recently acquired skill. “It wasn’t until I started sitting down and actually playing the drum set [that] I figured out, ‘I can do this myself, and I’m going to do it.’ It just took a lot of takes.” It’s with this mentality of willingness over talent that Rosenblatt is able to facilitate a life around creative consciousness. “Everyone’s a hack at what they do, in my opinion,” he says. “Some people will look at you at a different level because of something you’re doing. As long you can fake your way through it, you can do it--and I’m a big fan of that.”
At the time of the show at Strange Matter--a little over a year after recording--Barry And Sherry was only available via his Bandcamp site, due to unspecified distribution complications with Emergency Umbrella, the label that released the album on CD. It became available on vinyl through Lateral Label in late November. Without consistent support from a label or band members, it’s astonishing that Rosenblatt can make it on the road with only a small stipend for he, his rotating cast, and their gas guzzling van. He tells me that that morning was the fourth night in a row he spent on a floor. During the show, following Netherfriends’ next-to-last song, a cover of Willie Nelson’s “On The Road Again,” he announced with a cringing inflection, “We have zero dollars, so no change [for purchased merchandise]. We don’t have any money! And if anyone has a really comfortable bed, I want to sleep in it tonight.”
"More Than Friends Who Like Good Music/On The Road Again"
Relaxed, hands propping up his leaning torso, Rosenblatt exhales, and begins to explain touring beyond his new release and the 50 States 50 Songs project. “I don’t know how people are so against touring. This is the most grassroots way of getting a fan base going. I feel like [when I play Richmond] people think I’m from Richmond. I’m like, ‘No, I’m from Chicago’--I’ve only been here a handful of times.” Back in Chicago, when he’s not touring as the Netherfriends, he folds towels at a day spa. The financial struggle is comparable on the road, but the scenery, people, and sleeping conditions are ever changing. So, fuck it, right? Tour the US, make an album in your underwear, sleep on floors, be a vagabond with a sense of vanity. Do it yourself. Be a hack.