January 17, 2004
Interview: Mirah
Photo by Joanne Kim for K RecordsThe name Mirah is vowelly, mysterious, and appealing-- it could be something the hit machine would dream up for one of their new synthetic stars. But "Mirah" is this particular Mirah's real first name (the rest of it is Yom Tov Zeitlyn), and the music she makes has that same funny relationship with pop: Same appeal, but no faking. Simple and sweet, but with big, fun sounds following close behind.
Like the best new pop, Mirah's music comes out of fertile collaboration. Phil Elvrum was the mastermind behind the Microphones (another awesome K Records band) and Mirah sang on almost all the Microphones records. Somewhere along the line, Phil Elvrum got ridiculously good at recording music, and now Mirah and Phil are the Missy Elliot and Timbaland of independent rock. There's a superproducer behind the scenes, but the orchestration just makes Missy more Missy and Mirah more Mirah.
Because it straddles the line between love songs and much weirder stuff (such as the Microphones). Mirah's music is a big deal for music activism. She lets her voice be just as sugary as radio pop, but it's a kind of sugar that makes Sheryl Crow or the new Liz Phair sound like nutrasweet. The albums are all very unconventional, but not in the "acquired taste" way that so much independent music is. If you play Mirah for a friend who likes Sarah McLachlan or Avril Lavigne, the songs will hit them on the first listen. She's really one of those odd gateways out of packaged pop into new worlds of music.
I got into Mirah through my younger sister, and maybe someday we can all get into Mirah through our younger sisters. Tearing down "pay-for-play" radio will certainly help, but independent music fans have to change too. It may not be easy when one of your favorite bands starts dating Renee Zellweger , but 30 years of keeping good music secret has gotten us nowhere, guys. Time to stop hording the music you love, start spreading it around, and "revel in the popularizing".
HOLMES: What do you think of pop music on the radio right now?
MIRAH: I think it's fascinating.
HOLMES: What's the best music for dance parties?
MIRAH: Pop music from the radio right now.
HOLMES: It seems like K Records is all about collaboration and everyone working to drag the best art out of everybody else. How would you describe it? What's really happening there? Any good stories?
MIRAH: I wasn't involved with K before it moved into the building where it is now but I think the community feeling was accentuated by all the potential of the spacious and magical Big Room. I have this idea about K as it was before, just some offices upstairs from a downtown restaurant, being a kind of control tower to which the sattelite bands would report to. Maybe it was like this? A little less of a singular body and more of a disjointed one? I'm pretty sure some of the bands didn't even live close by. But since I've been involved, it's been pretty cosy and personal, with friendships being the spark for the love to make music and other things together. Much more than just recording has gone on in the big room; we eat and sleep there, rehearse rock operas and marching bands, feel earthquakes, etc.
HOLMES: What should a record label be?
MIRAH: A record label should be your friends and ideally your friends are organized, motivated, like-minded and honest.
MIRAH: It happened in a very squash vine growing out of the compost heap sort of way. We were all just kind of piled up there in the rain, you know? It's hard not to just start growing things. I met Phil and Calvin, my friends got to be friends with K and some of them worked there, we'd have big exciting events that would bring the whole town together. It was the environment that created what we made more than that any of us made anything alone. I started recording with Phil, Calvin thought it was a good idea to put it out on K. We were just sitting on a sofa in the big room picking our noses or something. It was pretty straightforward.
HOLMES: Do you want everybody to hear the music you make, or just some people?
MIRAH: I think everybody who wants some should get some but with apologies I admit that I'm completely un-methodical about finding out who wants some and about making sure the want somes get some.
HOLMES: Do you ever get the feeling that some indie-rock kids like to keep their favorite music a secret? Or, that they prefer that the music remains within a small, exclusive scene? If I'm not just imagining this, what the hell can we do about it?
MIRAH: Honestly, I'm just as much a culprit of it as the next guy. I liked the White Stripes too, saw them in Oly [Olympia, WA --K Records WHQ] a couple times, thought they were really good and then what happened? I heard their video was really neat and I bet I'd like their new album but it's just not as interesting to me to be interested anymore. The popular kids are annoying because they used to be just like you and you maybe admire something about them but that's a total secret and so you have to dislike them instead and who wants that syndrome to destroy the precious relationship you have with your secret music love? Is that an accurate break-down? I'm not condoning this weird psychology but I've never tried to kick the habit either. Maybe we all need some kind of therapeutic process so we can just get over it and revel in the popularizing instead of the disappointment in all that we believe is truly good and deserving of praise.
HOLMES: What would you do if your music got really really popular? Do you think that could ever happen?
MIRAH: Firstly, I might try to do something about my hair. Then I'd try to use my popularity to get me things like the opportunity to record with a full orchestra and I'd probably also do something really dorky like try to use my popularity to promote radical political ideas. Then I'd run away and live in the woods because I don't want to get 'really popular' and luckily, I don't feel the threat of it to be very imminent.
HOLMES: My younger sister got your CD off the Internet (that's how I found out about you). Are you okay with that?
MIRAH: I know that that's supposed to be a thing that affects me negatively, that 'takes money out of my pocket', but I don't really feel that way because I don't feel it at all. There wasn't ever any money in my pocket! I think it's true what you said about how it's pretty common for people who are into independently produced music to make the effort to buy a cd that they really like even if it's just as easy for them to download it. It's a kind of loyalty that's common for folks who feel like they're part of something and is quite the positive opposite of the feeling that we get when we're at Target or in the top 40 new releases section at Tower. At those places the urge goes steal! steal! steal! Because that's what it feels like they are doing to you. You don't steal from the mom and pop-musicians.
HOLMES: How old are you?
MIRAH: I was born on September 17th, 1974
HOLMES: Do you want to make a living making music for the rest of your life?
MIRAH: I would like to make music for the rest of my life and I'd also like to make a living for the rest of my life. I try not to worry myself too much about whether or not these two things continue to align themselves. I know I just said it but this is a misleading statement because though I try not to, I actually spend a quality portion of my time worrying about a variety of things. Try is really the operative word and I don't really have a plan.
Visit Mirah's website.