Three Stars: Edie Sedgwick

Got that? Moyer is seriously unserious, smart and absolutely determined to have dumb fun. He doesn’t write bold statements about “celebrity culture”—he captures what he likes about celebrities, with all of the mythology, scandal and skewed reality. And he does it over rapid beats and springy bass lines that you can dance to. Edie is a D.C. fixture, and a Three Star assessment and interview have been long overdue.

See her next: New Years Eve at the Fascinating Flying Circus Loft Party, or January 7 at the Black Cat backstage.

Visit Edie online: on MySpace or at her site, www.ediesedgwick.biz

Buy her albums: From Dischord

Questions for Edie Sedgwick

How did Edie Sedgwick get started?

It started in 1999, actually, and recording for the album started in April 2000. It was — actually, it was April 16, 2000, because the day we were recording was the day of the A-16 protest of the World Bank. And that was ironic. Edie was supposed to be this big statement against politics. It wasn’t supposed to take any position or side. It was a commentary on vapid American culture. At the time I was publishing these tracts about how postmodernity was going to take over world, and how we had to move into a post-political arena to express ideas about art. I did that for a while; my drummer, for a while, kind of went insane.

This is when Edie stopped being a band and started being your solo project?

I started using a computer for the music, programming loops and electronic beats, in the summer of — when was electro-clash big? When it was going to be the future of everything? The summer of 2003? I guess I was wrong about that. I would go on tour with an iPod loaded with all the beats and do the songs live. The problem with electro-clash was that it’s so fucking boring. There’s nothing to see. How do you make it interesting? Do it in drag! So I made these videos for the songs — you can see some of them online — and it became a comedy act. But then I realized, goddamn it, I don’t want to be like Weird Al in a dress. So I got instruments again. Then I was like, goddamn it, I need a band. Now there’s a band and I’m 31, bald, and find it interesting to wear a dress.

You’ve changed that look recently, from a black wig to a blonde wig/goatee ensemble.

But I’ve been wearing the same dress and pantyhose since I first started wearing women’s clothing. It might literally be the same pair of pantyhose. You don’t want to know how old they are. When I started I didn’t know what women’s clothing meant — I thought I’d get any old wig and make it work. Then I realized I didn’t look like Edie, and I should look like her more. I went on Wikipedia and got photos of her, and copied that.

That reminds me — on your blog you joke about using Wikipedia and Google to bolster your open letters to celebrities.

When I’m researching a song idea, I’m writing stuff based on rumor as much as fact. That’s why Wikipedia so cool, because you’ll find unsubstantiated rumors written by strange people, and legends are more interesting than actuality as a basis for what I’m doing. Legend matters to me more than reality.

I’m thinking of the lyrics for “Rob Lowe” — “Me and Judd Nelson in a blowjob race/and I preserved the moneyshot on tape.”

That song is about Rob Lowe as a kind of eros figure in art and in media. It’s based on a rumor of a sex tape that showed him with another man and a woman. A lot of my lyrics are inspired in that way — oh, what if Rob Lowe wasn’t just a guy on The West Wing? What if he was polyamorous star who services all genders? If I dig deep I’ll probably find that it’s not true.

Where else do you go for ideas?

I watch a lot of movies. I’ll see a movie and something will seem resonant to me. It’s not the same thing other people will find resonant. And I’ll use it as fodder for lyrics that may not even refer to the subject. The Dadaists free-write, the beats take drugs, I see films. It’s a compositional tool for me. But it’s not like I go to more movies to do more research. I’m an avid consumer of media in all forms: YouTube, dageuerotypes. Polaroids. If it’s made for your eyes, I’ll look at it. I don’t think our culture is any less shallow or informed by celebrity than at any point since the arrival of TV. It’s just that now we have different ways of delivering it.

Do you get into your Edie persona to write these songs? Does it take a particular state of mind?

Part of the problem with my other bands was that the method I used for this project took over. I stopped being able to write songs in any other way, which is pretty bad. I should remember how to do that! My band Antelope is pretty austere. The guys don’t want to hear my song about Courtney Love. Yes, it’s definitely led to an aesthetics problem.

So you usually start with lyrics?

The best songs are lyrics first — the songs you sing on the street. But more often than not I’ll have a drum loop, then I’ll play bass and loop that, and usually that’s enough to get me started.

You’ve cut songs from your previous records out of your live sets. Why is that?

A lot of that was purely technical, purely logistical decision-making. The first record is full of superhuman bass parts. The people I’ve been playing with are more friends than virtuoso Jocko Pastorius types. Do you know much about him?

Hm, no.

An incredible bassist who was killed by some guy in a bar fight. I want to say he was challenging him over who was a better base player. Didn’t he kill him with a bass? Maybe not. We can check Wikipedia. The point is that the bass playing on the first record is super-fast prog stuff and there’s not enough time to do that now. The problem with the 2005 stuff is that it’s all loops, and I don’t want to make a drummer sit and do all of that. I’ve spent time writing all new material to play with the group.

The last time I saw you, you hectored the audience when they clapped for you: “Make me work for it!” What’d you mean?

That’s just banter. I’m always super self-conscious that people aren’t enjoying themselves. Why are they nodding? Are they thinking, “what is this shit?” I try and break down the air of formality that’s separating me from the audience and, maybe, causing that. It’s especially vital in D.C., which is full of serious thinkers thinking seriously about music. And all of them at all ages shows! I only want to play 25 and up shows to drunk people. It’d be easier. I need people to think less, and party more. P period A period R period T period Y period. So I try and inject element of fun into what can be ritualistic and even boring. I’ve seen at least a million bands, maybe 2 million. Maybe I can turn this event, which can be as boring as going to church, into something memorable: “Oh, this weird guy did this weird show, and I hated it.” Hate it, as long as you remember it!

Also, I think that the Native Americans consider applause an insult. I appreciate their culture.

Is this a D.C. thing?

It’s an “all ages” thing. You won’t encounter the serious crowd in a dive bar in Michigan. You will in an all ages art space in southern California. People need to be less informed to have fewer pre-judgments about what they’re seeing. If everyone was a little bit stupider, I could sell 5,000 more copies of my album, if not 10,000 more.

When you’re conceptualizing Edie songs, though, what do they sound like? One-man-band electro-clash, or frenetic live songs with a full band?

You have to understand — the songs are assembled at rhythm, in a room, in a basement, by myself. What sounds good in that environment will sound different in some warehouse space in Florida. Sometimes I’m just trying to get offstage as fast as possible in a bar that smells like puke and everything has to speed up as fast as it humanly can be played. A lot of that energy injected into songs is totally the result of feeling uncomfortable in front of a live audience. Sometimes it’s best to use that energy, and sometimes it’s best to get out as fast as you can. Think of it as nervous chi. If we were not members of a band but yogis meditating in frozen snows, we’d say: our chi is too activated.

Is that “chi” or “qui”?

I believe that “qui” is the original Chinese, and I’m 100% committed to the original Chinese. They can’t be wrong.

Have any celebrities — or more likely, any heads of their international publicity hydras — contacted you about your songs?

None of the subjects of the songs, but I have had peripheral contact with members of the Sedgwick family. My first thought, obviously was “I could be sued! These people have lawyers, they’ll find a way!” But the lawyer I spoke with said the family was aware of the act, and they were supportive of it. A director interviewed me for a short feature that, I think, was going to show up on a DVD of one of her features, but you know how it is with documentaries. They never get released. But I don’t expect to hear from any celebrities — I fly pretty far under the radar.

What are you planning next?

I’m writing some more songs. I’ve got tours planned for spring, a grand tour of Europe, and SXSW. My dance card’s full until June. After that, I want to put out another record. And write a novel. There’s also an option, which I’m exploring, to be the first punk singer in space. If I get enough money to sponsor me — I imagine I’d collect this in a walkathon in July or August — I can buy seat on Russian or, by that point, Chinese space flight.

I’m assuming you’re serious.

I am! I shouldn’t talk about it, because it’s in the formative stages. You can check it out at MannedSpaceFlight.com. On that site, they’re soliciting different types of people — the first graphic designer in space, the first police officer. I know a guy on Capitol Hill who wants to be the first legislator in space. I can be the first punk singer in space.