With all four members of Dismemberment Plan sporting beards as they took they stage, lead singer and guitarist Travis Morrison was the only one who seemed particularly displeased with his. Just returned from a New Hampshire shanty where he had been writing songs for his solo career, Morrison maintained “Everyone’s ugly in New Hampshire,” during his between-song banter. This show at Johns Hopkins on March 4 was one of the Plan’s first since announcing in late January it would disband by August.
The Plan had been making jittery, intelligent music since 1993. Its sound, sometimes awkward and abrasive, has been described by critics as anything from “spaced-out-dub-funk-punk” to “post-pop funk,” illustrating critics’ undying willingness to arbitrarily combine words to describe the next big thing. That aside, Morrison boasts one of the most distinctive voices in indie rock. His unapologetic nasal wails and yelps coupled with explosive guitar riffs, Joe Easley’s frantic drumming and Eric Axelson’s artful bass playing give the Plan its distinctive feel.
After an extensive year of touring, including the aptly named “Death and Dismemberment” tour with Death Cab for Cutie, the members of the Plan felt they needed a break from each other and took a few months off. “A couple folks in the band were feeling kinda burnt out, wanted to take a break, and were talking about how they weren’t sure if they wanted to do another record or not, because another record means another two-year commitment,”Axelson said.
After a six-week break (interrupted only a pair of December shows at the Black Cat), the band decided to dissolve. The official announcement on their website stated, “We want-as individuals-to try things that can be precluded by living the lifestyle of the touring musician.” The decision to break up was “for the most part mutual,” with “some people were more into it that others, but I think everyone understood that if all four people weren’t completely into making another record, we shouldn’t do it.”
Evolving from the garagy post-punk of their first EP, !, to the narrative schizophrenic anthems of Emergency & I and on to the dark introspective stylings of Change, The Plan’s sound has been far from static. Their fourth full-length release, Change, while not as danceable as previous albums, showcases a maturing Plan, with its slower, more intricate melodies. The 2001 release of Change was greeted with great enthusiasm by critics and fans alike, leaving many curious to see how their sound would further evolve on a fifth album. But now, with January’s sobering announcement, it seems unlikely a fifth album will come.
As I interviewed Plan bassist Eric Axelson in the marble stairwell of JHU’s Shriver Auditorium, our voices resonated off the moulded walls. “I think we’re smart enough guys that we could make a fifth record that was even a newer, better sound than the previous records. But I could see how we had as a foursome gotten to the point where things weren’t jiving as well as they once did, so I think in a lot of ways it made sense to stop before we ran the risk of writing stale songs,” Axelson said.
A summer tour of the United States and Europe is scheduled before the band breaks up for good, plus the possibility of irregular D.C. shows including a yearly appearance at Fort Reno, a summer outdoor concert series in Northwest. “It’s looking like by fall everyone will have moved on to whatever comes next.” Morrison plans to go into the studio in April to record a solo album, which will include a few leftover Plan songs plus new ones he wrote during his self-imposed New Hampshire exile. For the others, the transition is less defined. “We’ve been doing it since we were in college and now we’re all in our thirties, so it’s weird at this point to have to consider finding work because we’ve always had something driving our lives, ” Axelson said. He hopes to either play bass or tour manage for another band. Easley plans on returning to school and guitarist Jason Caddell might pursue a career at a news bureau.
While many bands and labels are crusading against the online pirating and dissemination of their work on the internet, the Plan has made its music especially accessible. On dismembermentplan.com, fans have been able to listen to complete albums in streaming Real Audio format. The Plan took this a step further by offering naked individual tracks for download so they could be manipulated and remixed at will. Completed remixes can be sent back to the band and, if they are approved, might make into onto the remix album, planned to be released on DeSoto later this year.
Baltimore native and underground electronic act Cex helped spawn the idea for the remix album when he asked the band for the original source tracks to the song “Academy Award” from Emergency & I when he was still in high school. Cex’s remix appeared on his 2000 release, Role Model, and was enthusiastically received by the band. Cex’s remix “blew our minds,” Axelson said. Cex then began working on a remix for “The City,” around which time Morrison decided to make the naked tracks available to everyone. The Plan’s genuine faith in its fans is reflected in the decision to put the fate of this album in their hands.
“People can download and give you cool stuff just from love of the songs,” he said. Though the band certainly had access to big name remixers, they chose not to approach any for this album. The selected remixers, with the exception of “one or two decent sized independent mixers” are all amateurs. “It’s pretty amazing considering that these are just people who have these tools at home and download the tracks and are writing whole new versions of our songs,” Axelson said. “Even the bad stuff, it’s cool to see, because even if it’s bad they’re learning how to use ring modulators and how to sync different rhythms to the beats, and that’s cool. It’s not good now but a couple years from now they’re still learning and they’ll make better music the same way that bands get past three chords.” The Plan’s commitment to creativity and musical integrity is heartening in an industry which is often cold and cutthroat.
While disintegration of the Plan is disappointing, fans can console themselves with the prospect of Morrison’s solo career, which, while not the Plan, will inevitably mirror some of its appealing eccentricities. Go see them on tour this summer, and dance one last time.
