Peter Katis is The Rosetta Stone of the modern indie-jam scene. As a producer and engineer, he’s helped craft some of modern rock’s most important records, including key releases by The National, Interpol, Tokyo Police Club, Mercury Rev, The Swell Season, Jónsi, Sharon Van Etten, The Head and The Heart, Tapes ‘n Tapes, Oneida and Mates of State. (A picture of The National performing “The Geese Of Beverly Road” at his wedding decorates the cover of their album Boxer. ) You can also see his finger prints on collaborations with Guster, Moby, Caravan of Thieves and many others. His longtime indie-rock band The Philistines Jr. have had a profound, if subliminal, impact on the current wave of art rock bands, too, thanks in part to their mixture of rich, melodic soundscapes and playful, often tongue-in-cheek lyrics.
Katis formed The Philistines Jr. as a student at the University of Vermont in the mid-1980s, and their first gig was actually an opening spot for Phish in front of a sparse crowd on UVM’s campus. Almost three decades later, Katis hooked up with Trey Anastasio once again to produce his 2012 studio album Traveler, which featured a mix of the Phish guitarist’s usual collaborators as well as several of the indie/experimental musicians who have become part of Katis’ extended musical family.
The Connecticut-based musician was not only a witness to some of The Vermont Quartet’s earliest shows but also to a pre-hipster Burlington art-rock scene that blurred the lines between punk, jam and indie, produced bands like The Pants, and influenced a generation of future musicians. As part of our Phish anniversary celebration, Katis looks back on Phish’s earliest days and the classic Burlington club scene.
You grew up in Connecticut and attended UVM in the 1980s, where you formed The Philistines Jr. Do you remember the first time you saw Phish perform?
The Philistines Jr. formed in Vermont when I was a freshman at UVM in 1985. Phish were already around. My earliest memory of seeing Phish was either at Nectar’s in the fall of 1985 or at Slade Hall on campus the winter of 1985-1986. The one time I know, for sure, I saw them early on was on Earth Day, April 1986. They played on the sidewalk, right behind my dorm and the UVM library. I remember they played a cover of Bob Dylan’s “Quinn The Eskimo.” There were about 30-40 people there, and I was impressed. At the time, they were just another local band. By the time I graduated, in the spring of 1989, they were definitely the biggest local band, the kings of Burlington.
They started to draw big crowds. They were starting to play shows in other places. I remember that we played some venue in Boston, and they only paid us a measly $5.00. They were like, “Why can’t you draw a lot of people like Phish?” I was like, “Geez.” Already by then you could feel something building.
Though Phish were quickly pegged as part of the neo-jamband and hippie scenes, I’ve heard that in the ‘80s their audience also contained a large faction of more art rock and “proto-indie” fans somewhat removed from the Grateful Dead scene. Would you say that is an accurate assessment? What was the music scene like at UVM/Burlington in the late 1980s and how would you say that Phish fit into that scene when you attended UVM?
The music scene didn’t seem quite as segmented back then. It wasn’t like everyone loved everything, but it was definitely less split up because there was a genuinely thriving music scene in Burlington. It was more about people just being excited about any kind of new music. People weren’t as quick to put labels on everything. I remember there was a band called The Joneses. They were an actual Grateful Dead cover band. But with Phish, they may have been on that side of things, but they were all original—they would play covers like everyone did, but they were about making original music. It was also the waning days of punk rock/hardcore. There were bands that came more from that direction like The Hollywood Indians and Screaming Broccoli and the legendary Wards. Most of the really good local bands weren’t college bands, they were local people. There was an amazingly talented guy named Sean Kelly who went on to start a band called The Samples [who went on to be a major part of the jamband and H.O.R.D.E. scenes].
Given that The Philistines Jr. have been around for so many decades, what type of music were you playing at that point? Was is it similar stuff to the stuff you’ve released during the past 20 years or was it a different sound?
To be honest, I think that The Philistines Jr. became the band it is now right after UVM. At UVM we were just learning to be a band at all. I remember there was a little resistance on our part toward Phish because we were quite intimidated by their virtuosity. These were guys who could actually really play, and we were indie rockers still trying to figure out how make music that mattered in some way. When you ask about how they’ve evolved, even back then in the mid-1980s they were pretty fully formed. They were very ambitious in everything they tried to do.
Another Burlington band you have a long association with is the alt-punk band The Pants, who played with Phish regularly in their early days. Can you describe The Pants for readers who are unaware of them and how they fit into the Phish world during your time with them? Also, how would you say they influenced Phish’s songwriting (I know Trey played with them again the late 1990s as New York! When his own songwriting was shifting a bit).
I produced their Eat Crow record. It’s a weird record, I haven’t heard it in a while, but I think it still holds up. We kept playing in Burlington after we graduated in the early ‘90s because we considered it our home away from home. We played sometimes with The Pants, and they were getting more and more popular. They became one of the biggest local bands pretty quickly. It turned out that I ended up making a record with them, really about the time they were poised to explode. They were a great band with a lot of momentum. Then in the middle of recording that record, they broke up! I was like, “Are you kidding me?” I ended up playing drums on the last two songs out of sheer necessity. But we finished the record, and it’s really something special. It falls oddly between genres or categories. There was something about the style or sound of the band that didn’t fit them perfectly into anything. I think that appealed to Trey’s sensibility. It was really compelling music, like I said the record will stand the test of time. Eat Crow might sound a little dated, production wise, but it is of an era, the mid ‘90s. It was recorded in my parents’ basement on ADATs. I think Trey actually paid to press the CD he was such a fan of the band.
In an interview with Relix last year, Trey Anastasio said he first met you when The Philistines Jr. opened for Phish at UVM in the late 1980s. Can you tell us a little bit about what you remember about that particular performance?
It’s weird. When people ask me if I remember the first show we ever played, I say, “Yes. We opened for Phish!” We played first and there was really no one there. There was another band I was in called Jazzin’ Hell that played second and there were 20 or 30 people, and Phish played and there were 30 or 40 people. And I thought, “Hey, pretty good show.” Jazzin’ Hell was fronted by our mutual pal, James Kochalka Superstar. If you don’t know who that is, you should. That might be too long a story for this interview. A truly insane performer. Certainly not for everyone. He’s a very well-known comic book artist now, and he was my year at UVM. I don’t know how he became buddies with Trey, but they’re connected through the whole Burlington scene.
We were playing in this lame little room. It was your typical no big deal college show. The benefit was for the Union Of Concerned Students. Some sort of attempt to have a social/political event on campus. What it led to I don’t know. It’s funny that it’s this crappy little show and all these years later to be working together [with Trey]. It’s strange how those things work. I didn’t know Trey at all at the time. I knew Mike Gordon a little bit—he was active in the film department a couple years ahead of me. They always seemed like nice, friendly guys. I kind of felt like I knew Trey because our bands were around each other a bunch. When we actually became friends over twenty-five years later, it felt like we knew each other better than we actually did.
I remember Mike Gordon did sound for us (The Philistines Jr) at this big, ridiculous frat party once. I remember I said, “I’m headed to the cafeteria do you want any food?” He said, “Yeah, but I’m a vegetarian.” This is 1987-88. I said, “Ok, well what if they don’t have anything that’s vegetarian, what do you want?” He said, “I don’t eat anything with meat.” I said, “I know, but what if they don’t have anything that’s vegetarian, what do you want?” I was still getting used to people not eating meat.
Another funny Mike Gordon story. He was about to graduate, he was a couple years ahead of me. I was sitting in the film room and asked, “What are you guys going to do after you graduate?” He was like, “we’re going to do the band.” And I was like, “That’s cool but what are you going to do for money?” he said, “We’re going to do the band. That’s it.” I remember thinking, “Ha ha, the band? You’re going to do your band for a living? Good luck buddy.” I thought it was so unrealistic. It’s like people saying they’re going to play for the Yankees. Needless to say, he had the last laugh.
As a fan and friend, how closely did you keep in touch with Phish after you left Burlington, and they started touring nationally? Did you keep up with them throughout the 1990s and, if so, do you have a favorite memory of seeing them live?
No, I didn’t keep in touch for a long while, but you couldn’t help but notice. I moved back to New York and took jobs at different recording studios right after college. I remember they were playing venues in New York, sizable venues like the Marquee—it was pretty happening. I was like, “Wow, look at that at.” I think John Cleese from Monty Python said it best with regard to routing for former peers, “You hope they do well, but not too well.”
It was sort of like, “Wow, these guys are becoming a big band.” I don’t remember noticing how they transitioned from playing good, medium-sized venues to playing arenas. That was pretty wild to see happening. It happened right around the same time a friend of ours we used to poke fun at because he abandoned rock music to make “dance music” started to find some success. His name was Moby. I guess he got the last laugh, too!
We’ve known Moby since high school. It was odd to watch. He got famous, and then he got super famous. Sort of like how Phish went from very successful to the kings of rock in America, yet still somehow never becoming mainstream.
You produced Trey Anastasio’s latest solo album, Traveler. Can you describe how that collaboration originally came about?
I think Trey got in touch with me looking to make a solo record that was a little different. He was familiar with a lot of records I’d made. When someone asks me to make a record with them, especially if they’re well-known or already successful, I ask “Why? Why do you want to make it with me ?” I want to get a sense of if you’ve proved you’re already capable of making a good record, why do you want to do it with me.
If they show an awareness of what I do, if they’re interested in collaborating with me, then I get excited. He proved that for sure. He cited a bunch of really cool records. He cited a record called Teeth Lost, Hearts Won from an Australian group, The Grates. I consider it one of my best personal accomplishments as a producer. Trey was a big fan of that one. I was really impressed by that. Not many people know the record, but it’s really fun. It’s very playful and quirky production, but to an end. The songs are kind of goofy, but also sad. On the surface it’s a bit wacky, but at its core, it’s quite serious. A lot like The Philistines Jr. I’ve always liked sad, beautiful music. That’s what I tried to do with Trey on Traveler, and I think that’s what we did. It’s a little melancholy but in a hopeful way. I thought it turned out great. I still listen to it.
I see similarities between The Philistine Jr.’s lyrics and Phish’s lyrics, which are often playful. Once you contrast the playfulness with the lyrics with some of the musical depth, it’s an interesting way the music and lyrics bounce off each other in different ways.
Right, the lightness of the lyrics can belie the seriousness of the music. I’m a big fan of that sort of thing. I feel like there isn’t enough humor in most music. I think Phish is a good example that you can have fun without being silly.
Speaking of Moby, I remember listening to that sound collage where you have a few seconds of you playing with different artists.
Yeah, that was the last song on our Analog vs. Digital LP. It included thirty-four ten second solos by various musical friends of ours. Again, a little absurd, but fun. Ten seconds isn’t a lot of time to do your thing.
While you have produced all sorts of bands, you are known to many of our readers through your work with indie bands like Interpol and The National. Oddly enough, both of those bands feature members who are big Phish/Dead fans. Were you aware of that until you started working with Trey Anastasio?
It was really quite humorous. As I was getting ready to make and was making the Traveler record, I’d be at a party or backstage after shows talking to people, and they’d ask what I’m working on. I’d mention the Trey thing. You’d be amazed at the number of big Phish fans in the indie rock world. In The National, the Dessner and Devendorf brothers are huge fans. I had guys from Interpol to Oneida to Guster to The Hold Steady offering their services for this allegedly genre-bending musical adventure that became Traveler.
Trey wanted to make a record that people could listen to driving away from a Phish show that was about being a record, that wasn’t about being played live. I remember some guy on a blog trashing the beginning of “Land of Nod” because it has a drum machine. That makes me crazy. Trey made that on his eight-track. It’s his original demo from years ago. The whole point is that the cheesy drum machine morphs into this massive real drum beat. It wasn’t an accident…
It’s also cool because it makes it feel like a true studio record as opposed to a live band in a studio. It stands apart from a TAB or Phish live show.
Trey had told me that the record he made right before that with Phish and Steve Lillywhite was largely “live” in the studio. In our case, his solo band came in, and we cut most of basic tracks with them over the course of about a week or two. We then spent the next few months almost “remixing” the record, using the live basic tracks but continually reworking everything in different ways. I get upset when remixes are more interesting than the actual record. I like to make the real record the remix. Don’t save the fun for someone else! Trey was great to work with in that way. He didn’t put limits on anything creatively, style-wise, etc.
Given that you saw Phish so early on and had a reconnection with them pretty recently. Do you have a favorite live experience seeing them?
I think they are good at being musically surprising. And that’s hard to do. When I think of Phish at their best, I think of sitting in Nectar’s on a cold Burlington night almost thirty years ago. They were in the middle of a long improvisational jam and then “whammo!” Out of nowhere, they launch into this otherworldly, hyper-arranged piece of music that didn’t last for more than thirty or forty seconds. Then back into a long jam. It literally stunned me. I was like “What just happened…?”
