Interview

Pansy Division

by Ryan Reed

Lookout! Records' Pansy Division has made a name for itself with its frank and often hilarious tales of gay life. With its first three albums--Undressed, Deflowered and Pile Up--the band built a combined following of punk-rockers (straight and gay) and gay members of the population at large who are weary of the mainstream's neglect of gay issues. With the release of Wish I'd Taken Pictures, the band has arrived with a revved-up sound, a heightened level of energy and, finally, a permanent drummer.
Outside of the Foothill Club, in the cozy confines of the Pansy Division tour van, singer/guitarist Jon Ginoli, drummer Dustin Donaldson and bassist/singer Chris Freeman gathered to talk about the formation of the band, the new album, touring and what it's like to be Pansy Division.
Even though the band has been embraced and even championed by the punk community, Ginoli explained that, at the start, he didn't think of it as a punk band.
"We still don't," added Freeman.
"I just thought of it as a rock band or an underground band," Ginoli said. "People describe us as punk, but other people don't. It's kind of a limiting name in some ways. People think if you're punk, you do this, this and that--the same way that if you're gay, you do this, this and that. So, I don't object to it totally, but it's not a full description."
"I think part of our music is just as much inspired by somebody like Tom Petty as it is by somebody like the Ramones," Freeman said. "We didn't really adopt a punk label. I think punks adopted us. And we just kind of said, `Pansy Division should be this kind of band: real stripped-down and bare and lyrically up front and honest.' And it just so happened that some of those things fell under the punk sort of flag."
"We love a lot of punk rock, don't get me wrong," Ginoli said.
"Yeah, we're very influenced by punk, but I think it's too limiting," Freeman explained. "I'm influenced by music in general. You know, I listen to Phillip Glass and Black Sabbath and, you know, Dustin listens to Coil and Throbbing Gristle and stuff like, you know we've just been...somebody just turned us on to some dub stuff."
Entering the discussion, Donaldson said that "influence is a sort of constantly shifting flux. For me personally, when we're in the van, we all hear what everybody else is sort of doing. It just jumps around everywhere, so it's really...I mean, I'm less influenced by music than I am by film and literature. You can go forever, days on end, listing things that you like."
Bringing the conversation to the new album, Freeman said he feels that the band's "influences kind of come out in songs like `Expiration Date.' We sort of explore some kind of more raw, esoteric sort of sounds and doing more of the soundscape thing and so all of those influences sort of just come out. So, it kind of comes out here and there."
"Expiration Date" is, indeed, one of Pansy Division's most experimental excursions. With fuzzbox, Trent Reznor-esque vocals, Ginoli laments a long stint of loneliness, singing I'm a reliable guy in a city of flakes / My box of condoms has passed its expiration date. At first listen, the song may seem to be about something sort of trivial, until you consider the long shelf life of condoms.
"The sound of the new record," Donaldson said, "is definitely a result of the three of us spending a lot of time in the van talking about where the band should go: certain things that I thought that the band could be better for, certain things that other people...just ideas floating around, you know, which ends up [with] things like `Expiration Date' and things like that."
"The other records were done by session drummers, most of the time," Freeman said. "Or like, in the case of Pile Up, we'd do a single to test a drummer to see how we'd get along in the studio and what was going on and those drummers came and went, for various reasons. I think only one out of the nine that were there before did we have any kind of personal problems with. It was always some scheduling thing or some other thing. And we never had a chance to actually work up songs live with a particular drummer and have that drummer record it and know how it's all supposed to sound. And that's a big difference for us. And also, the fact is, we had a little bit more money to play with this time, too. Not a whole lot, but..."
"We used a bigger studio," Ginoli added. "A 24-track studio for the first time. We went from 16 to 24. We spent 15 days recording an album as opposed to six. We used to do it very quickly."
Returning the conversation to the inspiration for the start of Pansy Division, Ginoli said, "One of the things that did inspire me when we were first starting to write songs was that there were people like Billy Bragg and the Mekons, who I liked, who were straight, but they were singing about gay issues in their songs and I thought, well why aren't there gay rock musicians? And I thought that it was strange that there was this big void, this big gap. So, it had been something I had been looking for. You'd hear about a new band that had a gay member in it or something and you'd go look out for that record and, you know, scrutinize the lyrics and analyze whether there were hints about being gay in there. And I just thought, `What if there was a band that just came out and was totally up front about it,' like, instead of having it be the death nail, to say, `Yeah, we're an openly gay band' and that's gonna kill us commercially. I thought well, what if we just go out there with that being our point? Then we'll appeal to whoever can handle it. And if that turns out to be fifteen people, then, well, alright."
"That's what we expected at first, pretty much," Freeman said. "We didn't expect a lot of people to get into it at all. We were kind of afraid, like Jon was talking about the first tour we were afraid. I think every step of the way we've been afraid of something. Even playing the first straight rock club, we were kinda like [gasp]. You know: How are we gonna be taken here?"
The band embarked on more uncharted territory late last year on a long stint as the opening act for Green Day. It seems that with Green Day's new, adolescent and decidedly un-punk audience, Pansy Division could have had a tough time touring with them.
"Oh, we had a few fans at those shows, but yeah, it was pretty much a BIG SURPRISE," Ginoli said. "But a good, pleasant surprise; the audiences, I thought, were generally receptive even if they didn't like it. There was always a mixed reaction: some people who would not be into it and other people who were definitely supportive. You'd see little clumps of people in the audience where this faction was against it, this faction was for it. These people are dancing and cheering, these other people are flipping us off. So it was mixed, but I thought it kind of tilted towards our side."
"Some nights were better than others," he added. "Detroit sucked, that was the one bad show out of about forty shows. That was the one kind of nasty one."
"Surprisingly, (LA) Palladium was, too," Freeman said.
"We had some really good shows after that," Ginoli said. "So it does kind of depend on the town. Also, the first couple of shows we did, San Diego and the Palladium, were...I think part of it was the experience of figuring out how to go over in front of a much bigger crowd. I think we got better at that on that tour, too, and that's one reason why the first couple shows felt a little more contentious. But it was a really positive experience even if not everybody liked it. You know, the fate of most opening bands in that situation is people either totally ignore you or they hate you. And I [especially] think that for a band that popular that people are so stoked to see."
"I used to boo opening bands," Freeman confessed.
"If they were bad," Ginoli said.
"I booed the Babies when they opened for Styx," Freeman said.
"I would have booed the Babies, but I would have never gone to see Styx!" Ginoli exclaimed, laughing.
"You booed the Babies, but you didn't boo Styx?!" Donaldson joined in disbelief.
"I did boo Styx, too," Freeman said, laughing also.
"Oh, okay," Donaldson said.
"I did. They were horrible," Freeman said.
"I was gonna say, I was gonna boo you for not booing Styx," Donaldson said.
"It was the `Cornerstone Tour.' I got a free ticket," Freeman explained.
"`The Tombstone Tour,'" Ginoli mused.
"Yeah, right," Freeman said.
With a huge amount of touring under their belts and their best album yet, Pansy Division should be beyond the booing phenomena. In fact, with a video for the friendly song "I Really Wanted You," the band may be surfacing in the mainstream.
About this prospect, Donaldson remarked, "Sonically, I think that it's there. I think that the mainstream--you know, mainstream mainstream, Guns-N-Roses mentality--is still a little bit away from that. I think that it's possible, but I wouldn't be surprised if it doesn't happen, at this stage."
"Well, I think that we're in a position where, like it was said before, we're pretty well known," Freeman said. "People know about us more than they know, maybe, what we sound like, or it's a presence. I mean, you pick up a Green Day picture and most of the time you'll see a sticker on a guitar or a t-shirt being worn. So, a lot of people may know who we are and I think that with that song ("I Really Wanted You") and that video we're attempting just to see what would happen if we hit that person and said, "Here's a song you may like," you know, and then they buy the record and this bomb goes off when they play it, you know. But who knows? Who knows whether they'll like the bomb or whether it will just be a gut bomb for them. I'm just glad we're attempting it anyway just to see what would happen."
When asked what it is like to be a part of Pansy Division, Donaldson said, "It's really good. We all three have a very warped sense of humor, which is nice. There's a certain level of honesty that makes it very important to me. Sometimes it can be difficult because my inclination is to push things a lot farther, sonically. Working in this band is a slow progression of influence on everybody. They've worked back to me to slow down a bit, I push the envelope in certain areas and it's really good, really good. I enjoy it a lot. I've been in bands my whole life. I've never not been in a band. I learned how to play in a band. And band situations can be incredibly brutal and with this band, it's pretty nice."
Later, inside the Foothill Club, on a stage decorated with white holiday lights and polaroids, the band pleased its audience with new songs like "The Summer You Let Your Hair Grow Out," "Horny in the Morning," and "Wish I'd Taken Pictures" and old favorites like "Fem in a Black Leather Jacket." The set climaxed with Freeman, in a certain state of undress, bombarding the audience with Silly String, ‡ la "Smells Like Queer Spirit": Irreverent and in your face / Attacking preachers spewing hate / I'd love to puncture their balloons / Spray Silly String around their rooms.