PRINTGiants crash True/False Festival
They Might Be Giants hasn't stopped growing
February 28, 2008 | 12:00 a.m. CST
At this point, Brooklyn duo They Might Be Giants is less a band than an American musical institution. With 13 studio albums and six live records, John Flansburgh and John Linnell have parlayed their shared knack for catchy melodies and clever lyrics into an outstandingly productive 25-year career.
“Louis B. Mayer, I believe, once said ‘the harder I work, the luckier I am,’” guitarist Flansburgh says. “I sort of think that’s part of it for us.”
1. What’s your favorite album?
The Beatles’ Revolver. It’s just a profoundly inspired moment in songwriting and recording. When you listen to that record, it seems like the popular song is a world of unlimited possibilities.
2. Which album do you wish would spontaneously combust?
Whatever song is getting played too much on the radio. I’m not a hater, my friend.
3. What’s the best live show you’ve ever seen?
I saw Elvis Costello perform at the Nashville Room in the summer of 1977 before his first album had been released. I guess it was essentially his professional debut. Every jaw in that room was on the floor. I went because he had an odd name. It was not like, “this is going to be a legendary show.” I was in London, and I wanted to see a rock show.
4. What is your favorite make-out album?
Al Green’s Greatest Hits.
5. What band is so
last year?
I can’t do it, man. It’s hard enough being in a band and having other bands putting you down. I say good luck to all bands. More love
in 2008.
6. Build your dream band
The exact band I have right now: Dan Miller on the electric guitar, Danny Weinkauf on the bass, Marty Beller on the drums, John Linnell on the keyboards.
--Robert McMahon
He partially credits the band’s success to an engaging live show. “There are a lot of fantastic musicians — people who are much more technically advanced than we are — who have a very difficult time doing an interesting stage show,” says Flansburgh. “That’s never been our problem.” The duo has always found receptive audiences for their energetic, banter-filled shows.
The group’s discography spans many genres, including power-pop, polka, soul and country, and gives them limitless setlist possibilities. In addition to their studio releases, they’ve worked on soundtracks and released exclusive singles available to fans only through the band’s answering machine.
“That’s one of the great advantages of being able to draw on so many years of a catalog,” says Flansburgh. “You can keep it interesting for yourself and still put on shows that’ll be of interest to any fan.”
Still, some songs are staples. “There are certain songs that people in the audience would think we were being jerks if we didn’t play,” says Flansburgh. “I don’t think we’ve done many shows in the past 15 years where we haven’t done ‘Birdhouse in Your Soul.’”
Flansburgh doesn’t mind, though. He attributes the band’s longevity to its fans. “Being appreciated makes carrying on much, much easier,” he says. “We go on tour, and we feel a huge booster rocket from the crowd.”
Although the band is aging, its audience is getting younger — much younger, in fact. Here Come the 123s, released in February, is They Might Be Giants’ third full-length children’s album.
Here Come the 123s is invigorating. The synthesized-horn fueled disco backdrop and shouting background vocals of “High Five” get the blood pumping, as does the peppy guitar-keyboard interplay of “Figure Eight.” Both appeal to all ages and flow seamlessly with the duo’s other material.
They Might Be Giants’ trip to Columbia on Sunday holds special significance — the True/False Film Festival is bringing in the band as the weekend’s finale. Flansburgh and Linnell are not strangers to the silver screen; they starred in the documentary Gigantic (A Tale of Two Johns), directed by MU grad A.J. Schnack.
Flansburgh is looking forward to seeing Schnack and The Blue Note owner Richard King. “The last time we were at The Blue Note, he pulled out our original contract for the first show we did at the old Blue Note,” says Flansburgh. “It really made me feel like Lawrence Welk.”
