Deliberately or not, Mike Kinsella has established himself as a modest catalyst for musical evolution. American Football, Kinsella’s short-lived band and project back in 1999, spearheaded (amongst others) the traditional emo movement which eventually morphed into what dominated the middle of the following decade.
Despite releasing only one EP and full-length, many new upstarts still herald American Football as one of the greats. Revivalist bands like Moose Blood don’t just mention Kinsella as an influence, they reference him in their lyrics.
But the world had met Kinsella, now thirty six, many years before American Football was released.
As early as 1989, the Kinsella brothers were laying the foundations for things to come. The ahead of its time Cap’n Jazz placed older brother Tim Kinsella on vocal duties with Mike on the drum seat – a place he went on to reserve in bands like Owls and Joan of Arc.
Other than the occasional foray into co-vocal duties, it wasn’t until 1997 that Kinsella took over full-time duties, fronting three tracks for The One Up Downstairs. These remained unreleased until nine years later when Polyvinyl offered them up as a digital download. In the meantime, some band members had migrated to the highly influential American Football.
”If by busy you mean knee deep in dirty diapers, then yeah, I guess I’m pretty busy!”
Over the past quarter-century, Kinsella has released almost 30 full-length records on top of a wealth of EPs, all under various guises. Today he regularly performs under the moniker Owen, but he recently joined brother Tim on some new Joan of Arc material.
For an artist with such a vast history, his outward projection to the world remains strikingly humble. When we suggest he’s a busy man, Kinsella is quick to interject. “If by busy you mean knee-deep in dirty diapers, then yeah, I guess I am pretty busy”, he laughs.
Somewhere in amongst the recording of 2011’s ‘Ghost Town’, Kinsella became a father. The effect on his songwriting was unexpected: in previous interviews he has talked about parenthood leading to a resurgence of faith. We asked him if it had changed how he felt about his career.
“I am in general, less concerned about the “industry” as I don’t really consider myself existing within it,” he mused. “Or should I say it’s not part of my day-to-day routine, and I don’t really have any aspirations to have it be.”
This humble attitude might be the key to his productivity. It’s obvious that music plays an immense part in Kinsella’s life, but what’s more interesting is that his life doesn’t hinge upon it. Family life takes precedent. Having said that, it’s surprisingly difficult to track down any information about these views anywhere on the information superhighway.
Kinsella has a straightforward, suitably unassuming reason for this. Does he try to avoid publicity? Actually, he points out, it’s largely been avoiding him. “I’m not really concerned about privacy. I’m not really successful enough to be bothered by people, and the people who do like my music tend to be the nice [and] considerate type.”
”While I’m not necessarily provoking any kind of revolution, I do like to think of myself as everybody’s friend.”
Despite kick-starting an entire generation of emo bands, Kinsella has managed to retain a level of respected seclusion. There has been little to force him into the limelight – his subtle success has made waves in the very industry he is avoiding without splashing over into mainstream popular culture.
When talking about his current projects, Kinsella opens up immediately. His most recent release under the Owen title – ‘L’Ami Du Peuple’ – is a beautifully crafted singer-songwriter affair, years removed from the off-kilter emo of Cap’n Jazz and Joan of Arc. Any links to the likes of American Football are rightly brushed off as natural progression. Kinsella is not in the business of retrospection, having “never really thought about having to break away.”
‘L’Ami Du Peuple’ is an introverted piece of work. “The title comes from a tattoo I’ve got, which comes from a newspaper published during the French Revolution that helped inspire the masses to rise up,” Kinsella explains. “It means ‘friends of the people’, and while I’m not necessarily provoking any sort of revolution I do like to think of myself as everybody’s friend.”
Revolutionary or not, Kinsella approached the album from a different perspective. Previous releases have seen him venture to his mother’s house for recording purposes. Building upon the part-studio created ‘Ghost Town’, with ‘L’Ami Du Peuple’ he dedicated himself fully to the process.
“I’ve little by little been spending more time in proper studios with each album and I finally found someone I was comfortable enough with to get involved from the beginning,” he reveals, referring to Iron & Wine and Bonnie “Prince” Billy producer Neil Strauch.
It’s evidence of Kinsella’s current desire to expand his musical collaborations; moving away, at least in the instant, from isolated and singular projects such as earlier Owen material. This desire has also led to the formation of Their/They’re/There – a part-time side project including Matthew Frank of Loose Lips Sink Ships and Evan Weiss of Into It. Over It.
“I actually went into the first practice thinking [Evan Weiss] was going to be playing the guitar and Matt (whose work I wasn’t familiar with) would be playing bass,” Kinsella recalls, “so when I walked in and saw Matt holding the guitar I thought to myself “oh shit – what’ve I gotten myself into…”. Then after about 30 seconds of playing I’d realised Matt was way better than Evan and me at guitar and writes super cool parts. So I guess I ultimately got lucky.”
Kinsella continues to balance the band with his solo creativity – something that remains very important to him. That said there are clearly benefits to working with others. “The writing process is often more interesting,” he admits, “there’s a lot more beer drunk at practice [and] shows, [and] the shows are much more of a release.”
”I guess it’s better than grunge…”
Any plans to incorporate this reinvigorated team spirit into his forthcoming UK tour are quickly quashed. “I’ve gotten so comfortable traveling and playing by myself (not to mention keeping all the money at the end of the night) that getting a group of people together to learn versions of the songs seems more stressful than anything else,” he admits.
He’s clearly excited about his current musical ventures and taking Owen on the road following his last failed attempt at touring the UK. It’s about looking at the present and towards the future, not dwelling on the past. He may have been instrumental in a musical movement in the past – and partly responsible for the recent resurgence of scuzzy distorted indie-emo – but to him it’s irrelevant.
What does he think about the regeneration of emo? His two-cents:
“I guess it’s better than grunge.”
Catch Owen on tour across the UK in December, taking in Kingston (Fighting Cox, 07), London (Old Blue Last, 08), Cardiff (Clwb Ifor Bach, 09), Leeds (Brudenell Social Club, 10), Glasgow (Audio, 11) and Nottingham (The Maze, 12).
‘L’Ami Du Pueple’ is available now via Polyvinyl Records.
BEN TIPPLE