Elkins mastered the record at his Desolation Row studio in Raleigh. “He turned the non-suck button on,” laughs Williams. Midway through the process, No Way Records, which funded The Wonderful and Frightening World of Double Negative and was doing the same for Daydream Nation, sold the unfinished record to Daniel Lupton and Sorry State Records, a small but strong N.C. punk label. Lupton bought the record unheard, trusting Double Negative’s perfectionist tendencies to eventually return a quality album. He was also willing to indulge the band’s knack for distinctive visuals. He’d already let the band print Raw Energy on clear vinyl, with a metallic fold-out cover and a perforated logo for easier spray painting. “We just kinda told him, ‘If we make the recording costs nothing, can we spend every penny you were going to spend on the cover?’” says Gray. “He (Lupton) was just like, ‘Yeah. Of course. That’d be great.’ ” Williams’ eyes widen as he describes the packaging they have in mind for the new LP. It’ll be pressed on pink vinyl with liner notes printed in pink against a deep blue background. The reflective silver outer sleeve will feature embossed lettering and Double Negative’s iconic logo — described by Rich Ivey in the Independent Weekly as “Swans-meets-the-Third Reich” — emblazoned in electric pink on the face of it all. That logo has become something of a symbol for Double Negative’s whole character: deliberate, singular, and militaristically direct. Before the band even started, Williams says, “I knew exactly what the symbol was going to be.” The point was to elicit immediate recognition, something as striking and simple as those of their hardcore forbears: Black Flag’s bars or Crass’ authoritarian mash-up. “We wanted kids to be able to spray paint it on their schools in two seconds and get away,” Gray says. It’s also one more indication of Double Negative’s affection for vinyl. “Records are forever.” Williams says. Their affection for the form is evident in the way they reference their own music. My Bloody Valentine, Confessor and T. Rex all enter the conversation long before The Dead Kennedys or Slayer (“right up there with Woody Guthrie,” swears Williams). Even if it’s not always apparent, Walsby says, “Everything we’re stealing is definitely from 25-30 years of just listening to all kinds of music.” In his younger days, Walsby manned the kit for Mac McCaughan’s pre-Superchunk outfit Wwax, and Ryan Adams’ pre-Whiskeytown ensemble The Patty Duke Syndrome. Collins fronted the stillrevered, and recently reunited, Merge band Erectus Monotone. The band’s cross-genre credibility is solidified, but Double Negative is decidedly hardcore — at least in the minds of its fans. “I think we delude ourselves in Double Negative,” says Williams, clad in a well-worn Darkthrone T-shirt. “We’re thinking, like, ‘Oh, this one part’s just total shoegazer, it sounds like fuckin’ Ride meets Lush,’ and we play it for somebody and it’s just, ‘I don’t hear it.’ ” But Double Negative’s dedication to artifact is just as character-
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defining. Double Negative’s brazen iconography is an instant ID to record browsers. To those unfamiliar with the band, its stark, impactful presence offers intrigue. For those in the know, it’s as definitive as a Nike Swoosh. “It’s very difficult — and infuriating — for me to look through a box of 7-inches and give up half way because I don’t know what bands I’m looking at,” says Gray. “I’ve never understood the idea of trying to disguise or hide your record.” Deserving of its conspicuous cover art, there’s nothing hidden on Daydream Nation. While the recording is far from polished, each player gets his say. Collins’ vocals have never been more up front. Williams’ guitars are just as frantic and noise-blurred as ever, but he’s also put some of his most resounding riffs into this record. Walsby’s kit thunders, shifting direction like a tornado, plowing the band ahead of him. Gray balances Walsby’s pulse and Williams’ diversions, grounding the band like the chain keeping a Rottweiler at bay. Three years provided time for the songs to be written, rewritten, tightened, condensed and eventually crammed into less than 30 minutes. But that’s just the way it works for this band. They don’t have patience for filler. “I put everything we ever recorded on one CD, and it’s 51 minutes,” Gray says. “The trash pile’s a lot more full than the done pile.” That’s why Double Negative so quickly endeared itself to the hardcore scene. An excellent LP followed a succession of excellent shows. The fans responded. Double Negative had to keep barreling forward. In 2008, they flew to England to play a 22-minute set at the Melvins-curated All Tomorrow’s Parties. Now, Walsby’s old bandmate Ryan Adams wants to put out a 7-inch. In the Fall, Double Negative is touring Europe. Since that early show at King’s, the demand for Double Negative has continued to grow. No matter what obstacles the band, and the record, have faced, the strongest pressure has been to keep pushing forward. “We were very lucky to have a very quick, positive response,” Gray says. “We’re easy quitters. We’ll quit at the drop of a hat. Luckily, we’ve had people stop us from doing it every time.” shuf8
Photo by Bryan Reed