their personalities are more upfront and they might be leading the pack. Like, a solid center where you're like, 'Oh I see, if he's on a session, he probably calms everything down and he keeps it moving forward very gently.' Whereas other people are more aggressive. It will be something intellectual like Brian Eno or something almost like attitude and technique, like Glyn Johns, or the vibe of a person like T Bone Burnett. Have there been conversations that made you rethink your approach? LC: Almost always to some degree. Oz Fritz produced that, who has worked with Tom Waits and Bill Laswell and the sessions were just really fun.ĭG: Doing the interviews you do for Tape Op, that has to be a huge resource. With a fantastic local band, really a jazz band backing him, grand piano, brushes on the drums.

LC: The one recently in the last couple of years was Johnny Boyd, which is like a mid-century crooner record, like Frank Sinatra or Tony Bennett-style. What are some of the more unusual recordings you've done? DG: You're best known for working on rock projects. I randomly got a roommate through the paper and he's like, 'I think you might know my employee, John.' He was leading a band called the Maroons at that point, and that became one of the first projects I recorded at my house, actually, on Quasi's borrowed equipment ( laughs) because I knew I knew Sam (Coomes) from Quasi from California when he was in Donner Party. And (Decemberists drummer) John Moen, who was the drummer for the Dharma Bums, I briefly met, and then when I moved up here, he was working with my roommate. I knew some of the people from playing shows with them, like (the band) Calamity Jane, Gilly Ann Hanner, I actually ran into her in Astoria yesterday afternoon. I think Portland was just the right place.

LC: I thought I was done with music, that I would just do it as a hobby. DG: But it wasn't necessarily the ambition for moving up here.

Up From Adams Street by Larry Crane