By Jason Newman
Chris Archibald (you can call him Arch), lead singer and multi-instrumentalist for Illinois, has been known to hug
people who dig his music. Not out of desperation, mind you, but of appreciation that someone took time to check his band out. But don't picture a wimpy,
poetry-writing emo kid behind the mic. On the recently-released excellent debut EP What the Hell Do I Know?, the quintet mine a trove of
Americana and roots-based songs that stand out among today's sounds but reach back to a simpler, more traditional, time. Archibald sat down with Baeble
before a show at Brooklyn's Luna Lounge to discuss The Monkees, Googling himself and buying crack.
Baeble: So I figure I'll get the most obvious question out of the way first. You're all from Pennsylvania. Why Illinois?
Chris:: If you look it up in the dictionary, it means "Tribe of Extraordinary Gentlemen" and we are extraordinary gentlemen, goddam right.
(Ed. note: That's an, um, very loose interpretation of the definition.) Also, I think it looks cool on paper. If you write it in lowercase, it
looks like a skyline.
B: I'm told that you have hundreds of songs already sketched out. Is that true or just a good publicity stunt?
C: Naw, it's true. I've been playing music since I was 13. I have over 370 songs stockpiled and we just kinda figured which was the best to kick
somebody in the ass with live. I put together some band members, who are also long-time friends of mine, and just tried to fill things out,
re-interpreting and actually finishing writing songs I started when I was 13,14,15. Illinois has basically summed up the last 5 years of my life
songwriting-wise.
B: Out of the 370, how many were finished songs?
C: (Laughs) About 2 1/2. I'm kinda off-the-cuff. I'll record my songs, y'know, and just play a beat or something. In my basement I have an
acoustic guitar, piano, banjo; all these stupid instruments where I would just fool around with them and effect the shit out of them to get an idea
going, but then I'm too lazy to actually re-do it. I'd rather keep that one great drum fill with the rest of the song fucked up and try to re-do it than
not have that drum fill.
B: But the band is still contributing to the songwriting process?
C: Oh yeah, yeah. Definitely. The songs are more of a blueprint. I'll write multiple songs a day because I'd rather have quantity over quality.
Then I come back and pick on the little sparks and just kind of work on those.
B: You play guitar, banjos, keys, drums, sitar, ukulele, and flute. What did you first learn to play?
C: It was guitar to a Neil Young book. It was "Needle and the Damage Done." I fuckin' love the song, so I got a Neil Young book that had dots to
put your fingers and I just figured it out because I knew it so well. I would play each line and try to figure out where the hell to put my fingers.
B: Tell me about Bucks County where you all grew up.
C: It's about 20 minutes north of Philly. It's farms and suburbs stuff. It's got everything. You can go hunting or you can go downtown and buy
crack.
B: Which one did you choose?
C: I fish.
B: Were you mostly outdoorsy type? I hear the name "Bucks County" and conjure up images of shooting big game and giant deer roaming the
streets.
C: (Laughs) No. No. Not at all. We're the guys on the couch. We just like to have the option to get to go fishing. Annually, we'll get together
and go outside.
B: But the EP is pretty steeped in Americana and roots. Did growing up in quasi-rural Pennsylvania have any effect on you musically?
C: Well, that's the thing I don't think anybody knows. I actually have a real urban side. I'll write a lot of hip-hop songs where I don't rap but
I'll do suburban lyrics over dirty, urban beat stuff. Growing up, we got the city and we got the farm. It's in the middle, so I just take a little piece
of everything I like in my life and just mash it.
B: How did you get into the banjo?
C: I walked into a music shop to get guitar strings and saw a starter banjo for $80. I've always wanted a banjo because I love The Monkees and
they always used it. But I was more excited about the goddam case that it came in because it was double bow and you can put it on your back and feel
like you got a machine gun or a bow (Emulates taking an arrow out). So I bought it. And you can't mistake the sound of a banjo. You can't reproduce it.
That tinty, chingy-changy sound is awesome.
B: Were you listening to a lot of classic banjo players?
C: Naw, I pretty much stopped at The Monkees. And Hammer.
B: I have to ask because I'll probably never ask anyone this again. What are your Top 5 Monkees songs:
C:
1. Zor and Zam
2. P.O. Box 9847
3. Pleasant Valley Sunday
4. Last Train to Clarksville
5. Shorty Blackwell
B: Is it hard to make the comparison between The Monkees and your band?
C: Naw. I like the idea of four characters being completely different individuals, yet molding into one beautiful thing. I don't try to portray
that, but I feel we're naturally that already. We know each other so well that we just try to push everyone's buttons. We all speak in inside jokes.
B: Do you keep up with a lot of current music?
C: I kinda keep to myself. I don't really know music that well and don't really listen to other music. I'm not trying to be a dickhead or
anything. I just try to be original. If I hear something I like, I'll write 15 songs just like it and just try to steal a little bit.
B: How often do you Google yourself?
C: Well, y'know, ummm.(Laughs) Well, the record just came out, so I'm just trying to figure out what the hell people think about it.
B: You have a pretty common band name to Google.
C: Yeah, we get Sufjan Stevens sites up the wazoo. I told my lawyer as a joke that we were gonna name the album, "Come On Feel the Stevens." We
were Illinois way before that fuckin' record came out and we had people coming to our shows and be like, "I read about you guys in Entertainment
Weekly." I'm like, "Really?"
B: With so many groups now, I guess it's easy to confuse bands.
C: Especially with Myspace, where the availability to be out there for people to hear you is amazing. But now there's more of an onslaught of
bands. Now there's 13-year old kids starting three bands at one time and it's only one guy.
B: Nobody really has time to absorb a full album anymore. You gotta get 'em with the first 30 seconds of your first song.
C: Totally. It's like baseball. You look at the offense, your 1/2/3/4 slots are your best hitters. Nobody's fuckin' listening to the number 9
slot. It's the goddamn pitcher batting!
B: Bonus question: Answer your album title: What the Hell Do I Know?
C: Uhhhh, buh?
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