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Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson

With help from members of Grizzly Bear and TV on the Radio, this artist is poised to break out this summer; he plays Schubas May 20

By Dan Ochwat

Scouring the music blogs recently, I came across the song “Buriedfed,” by Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson, a dark, catchy folk-rock jingle that was so good I needed to hear — and learn — more about this guy. A combination of Google and MySpace barely scratched the surface, so I weaseled my way into an e-mail interview with him. The problem with e-mail: I have sooo many more questions.

It turns out Miles has lived quite a life at 24, from heavy drug use to divorce to being homeless and sleeping in his rehearsal space shared with the band Battles. Throw in that his father is named after a murdering relative, and how do you not have follow-up questions? One, to see if he’s putting you on; two, to see if his tales are really as dark as his lyrics. Google and MySpace only led me to a few songs. They’re dark, they’re infectious, the anticipation is high.

Miles’ self-titled debut album is being released July 1, but we don’t have to wait that long to hear more. He plays May 20 at Schubas with White Rabbits. A follow-up album titled “Summer of Fear” is already being prepped for 2009, produced by Kyp Malone of TV on the Radio. Did I also mention that he runs with some talented company?

 

Q: Most of the folks in Chicago probably aren’t too familiar with you, and the enlightened ones are only as familiar as “Buriedfed.” Can you tell us a little about yourself?
A: I’m from Portland, Ore., originally. In 2000, I moved to New York looking to change the world — pretty standard [Bob] Dylan bullshit, “Head east, young man.” I was 17 and taking acid all the time, and it seemed very righteous. I was an idiot. Still am.

Q: Have you been to Chicago before? Any interesting stories here?
A: When I was 14, I took Amtrak cross-country from California to Muncie, Ind., to visit my grandparents. My parents are both from Muncie. The train stopped in Chicago, and we got out for a while because my dad was too cheap to get a sleeper room. While eating lunch in a McDonald’s window, two like 16-year-old girls, who were like HOT, looked at me, pointed and giggled. Flirtation or ridicule, it made my summer.

Q: Your debut album launches in July, but you recorded it two years ago. What was the delay?
A: Well, it’s funny, because I just read an interview you did with Chris Bear [of Grizzly Bear], where he talks about them taking two months off in the middle of “Yellow House,” and that’s when him and Chris Taylor [also of Grizzly Bear] came and tracked my album. It was done, but I had no band and no real connection to other musicians anymore. After I got engaged in 2004, I had stopped playing in bands and, gradually, doing hard drugs, because otherwise I was gonna die. So I just hid in my house with my cats and had BBQs in my backyard. I just wrote songs. I felt washed up at 22, too tired to go on.

Eventually, Chris Taylor encouraged me to get together with these kids from Alabama. We started playing, and I learned how to be in a band again. Kyp booked us a show at the old Fix. It was the most fun I’d had onstage in a long time, and we started what has become a two-year tour of Brooklyn.

Then, last spring, my fiancee left me, and I was just kinda homeless again. I stayed with Chris, stayed with Kyp, secretly moved into the rehearsal space we were sharing with Battles, slid back into some unfortunate habits, and then, voila, I had written a new album about it. Kyp produced that in December at this really pretty studio with a view, and we’re about to mix it. It’s called “Summer of Fear.”

Q: “Buriedfed” is one of those great folk-rock songs that builds and builds with a little soul and becomes just an excellent jam, despite its sour lyrics. Is it representative of what the album is going to sound like?
A: The album is definitely on the bummer side. We did it in January, looking out at my frozen backyard. We tossed around the phrase “winter album” a lot. There are a few other upbeat songs, but a lot of it’s pretty f-----g glum. The build thing is kind of a tendency of mine that happens more on “Summer of Fear” and when I play live — definitely one of [my] favorite gimmicks.

Q: How did you hook up with Chris Bear, Chris Taylor and Kyp Malone? That’s some real talent.
A: I’ve known Bear and Terrible (Chris Taylor) forever, just playing in bands that constantly played together. My shit was always a wreck though. I think I felt overly threatened by the DIY scene, which was where you played if you’re a kid and not interested in getting ripped off by asshole liquor vendors posing as music venues in the city.

Eventually, I couldn’t do bands anymore and was blacking out at every show, and Chris [Taylor] kind of rescued me and was like, “Come let me record your solo album, this is not what you should be doing.” I more or less agreed, gave him some demos.

I had met Kyp around, as so many citizens of the world have, and [Taylor] played him my demo of “Buriedfed.” It’s weird, because I don’t know if that’s the best song I’ve written. Anyway, Kyp booked me solo shows, which I played terribly. Eventually, he just became my family. I really would not have survived without those people. Everyone has always been so sweet about inviting me to things like their David Letterman performances, and things where I can be the tag-along, drinking all the beer backstage while everyone else works. Re-socializing me: It takes a village to raise a child.

Q: How anxious are you for the album to come out? What are your hopes?
A: It’s been long enough, at this point, that I am just kind of at peace with the album and the dude that made it. I still enjoy playing the songs live, but my touring band, the Black Boys (FYI: named in early 2006, before the Black Kids), have gotten so much better that I just hope it does well enough that we get to keep touring and record the third album. That being said, there’s enough people making a living off shit music out there that I don’t see why there’s not room for one more.

Q: Can you describe your live show? What can we expect to see?
A: In Brooklyn, we play hour and a half shows. I like the live, epic presentation. I like having dynamics. I am also way too comfortable at a lot of Brooklyn venues. We pick sets from around 50 songs. But we’re adapting to the rock club set again. It might be loud.

Q: What’s the story with the four names? Is that your biological name, not a stage name?
A: My grandmother named my father Miles Terry Anthony Robinson out of spite and after a relative who shot his brother and his new wife at their wedding, but not before pissing on all the food. He was also fond of the young lady. A North Carolina man freed him and a bunch of other convicts his last night in office, out of spite, so he moved to Indiana and started a family. Then, my father changed my one name so I wouldn’t be a junior and so he could say I was named after Miles Davis. My mother, who divorced him long ago, calls me Ben ... out of spite.

Soon, I think we’ll start playing as Miles Benjamin and the Black Boys.

Q: I have to admit, especially in some pics of you waving mini-American flags, you look a bit like a young Barack Obama. Ever get that before? Maybe I like Obama so much that I just see him everywhere.
A: You are definitely not the first. I happened to be watching the Democratic National Convention in 2004 when he gave that speech, and I freaked out because I had never seen an adult male who looked so much like me in my life. I’m mixed too. I loved his speech on race. Big fan. Although, I am the REAL candidate of change.

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