A Conversation Between David Kelling of Culture Abuse and Domenic Palermo of Nothing

As Seen in Issue #41 of New Noise Magazine

Culture Abuse’s Bay Dream was released June 15 via Epitaph Records.

Nothing’s Dance on the Blacktop is due out Aug. 24 via Relapse Records.

DAVID: What’s up? Where are you at right now?

DOMENIC: I’m sitting in my apartment in New York City right now. We’re recording on this GarageBand setup where I do all of our demos pretty much. It’s starting to rain in New York. Where are you at—you flew out of the Bay, right?

DAVID: Yeah, we got a three-hour layover in Washington D.C. right now. We flew from San Francisco to Washington D.C., and then, we fly from here to London.

DOMENIC: Wow. So, you’re gonna fly right over my head on your way out?

DAVID: [Laughs] Wave to us.

DOMENIC: You should pay for that Wi-Fi on the flight and text me when you’re going over New York, and I’ll just look up and see if I can get a flick of the airplane going over. How’s the airport?

DAVID: Of course I found the one quiet corner, and then, as soon as I sat down, everyone came and sat down by me.

DOMENIC: Oh man, that’s always the case. How are all the boys today?

DAVID: Everyone’s doing pretty good.

DOMENIC: Who went out last night before today?

DAVID: We just had to actually pack and do a bunch of shit, so everyone just took a bunch of edibles. So, by the time we were just sitting at the airport, everyone was just high out of their mind. Then, me and [guitarist] Nick [Bruder] signed up for something where we thought we could cut through the line and do all this shit, but they did a retina scan on us and took our fingerprints. And then, we didn’t even get to cut in line. They basically just got us.

But then, I’ve also learned that if you have a debit card that’s canceled or a temporary debit card that’s no longer working, you can use it to ring up whatever you want on the flight, and it just doesn’t go through.

DOMENIC: Oh yeah, I’ve heard that too. We should edit this out so no one steals that. You know, a flight attendant told me that, and the last time we went to Europe, we used [guitarist] Brandon [Setta]’s and ordered drinks on the whole flight. It really does work.

DAVID: Yeah, I got some tacos. Me and [bassist] Shane [Plitt] got some whiskey, we got some snacks. We went fucking crazy.

DOMENIC: We have this thing that we do when we get on an airplane. It’s funny, ’cause [drummer] Kyle [Kimball] didn’t always drink, so in the early days, he would just be watching me and Brandon—but I’m prescribed Lorazepam, so as soon as I get on the airplane, I’ll hand out these Lorazepam to everyone pretty much. At first, it was just to go to sleep, and immediately, an hour in with one cocktail and the Lorazepam kicks in, we eat more Lorazepam and start ordering little Jack Daniels and scotch bottles. It’s pretty funny—we always get conversations going with the stewardess, because we’re just so wacked-out on pharmaceuticals and can’t stop talking.

DAVID: The stewardesses always love our drummer Ross [Traver].

DOMENIC: Shit, everyone loves Ross, don’t they? It’s his beard.

DAVID: [Laughs] He has a thick beard, dude. Mine doesn’t grow that thick, so no one really talks to me.

DOMENIC: Brandon always talks about how hot Ross is, and I don’t get it. I think he’s a good-looking guy, but I don’t understand why Brandon thinks he’s really hot—but that’s cool.

DAVID: I’ve heard Nick say recently, “Dude, if you shaved that beard, you’d look so weird.”

DOMENIC: Like a wet cat.

DAVID: I think he said that his chin is “hella pointy.” [Laughter]

DOMENIC: I think that’s a good way to tell how much better of a vibe you guys have than us. You guys are happy and free and can eat the edibles with no issue. None of us in the band—besides [bassist] Aaron [Heard] now, cause Aaron’s a pothead—can leave the house high, ’cause we’re all anxiety- and stress-ridden. The thought of me eating edibles at an airport is literally the most terrifying thing.

DAVID: Dude, I haven’t been smoking. I’m freaking out a little bit.

DOMENIC: [Laughs] I don’t wanna try to freak you out now. Like, “Yo, you should be a lot more scared than you are right now, man.” Don’t look at Ross and think about him without a beard while you’re stoned.

DAVID: His pointy-ass chin.

DOMENIC: I would be staring at Shane’s big eyeballs and his glasses, probably having a meltdown internally.

DAVID: Dude, I actually got a couple questions that I’m interested in. Why have you always been the singer in a band?

DOMENIC: That’s a good question—never thought about that before. It probably originally stemmed from lack of talent for anything music-wise besides attaching words to things. That was something I’ve always had a knack for. I played guitar at an early age but never had any traditional lessons or anything like that. It was always just whoever I was around that also played guitar just showed me shit. I think it finally just got to a point where I started taking the music shit a little bit seriously—and being such a hands-on individual and getting sick of having to deal with bozos all the time that I had to kick out of the band and then be like, “OK, I have to find a guitarist.”

It was never about writing; I was always able to write, but performing, I eventually just got so sick of dealing with people that I was like, “You know what? I’m just gonna teach myself how to sing and play guitar.” I sat in a basement, and I just started writing shit. I just played every day and just started singin’ it. I still am pretty awful at it, but it definitely helped me mentally to have confidence doing what I was doing.

DAVID: When did you start playing guitar?

DOMENIC: My brother always played, and I think he was out of his punk [and] hardcore stage and moved into his shoegaze point, and that was probably around the time all of this stuff was actually coming out, in the ’90s. He was really good and was playing The Smiths—rippin’ on these Johnny Marr riffs—but at that point, I was starting to get into the Misfits. Also listening to awful shit like Green Day or whatever was on the radio. I know you like Green Day, so I don’t mean to offend you.

DAVID: I haven’t really checked ’em out, so I don’t know. [Laughter]

DOMENIC: Those were the first songs I was learning, you know, songs off Dookie. But also, at the same time, learning Minor Threat and Misfits songs at that awful point of punk rock where you don’t really know anything, but you really wanna push it that you do.

DAVID: I feel like that’s the best spot. Almost like when you don’t know—I was reading something, and they were talking about creativity, and they were talking about how the less you know, the better. I don’t know if you feel the same way I felt. I don’t wanna know what The Beatles did. I don’t wanna know every chord.

DOMENIC: I definitely feel that. I’m pretty much the same way. I’m surrounded by all of these talented guys. Brandon’s an amazing guitar player. Kyle can play guitar better than I can. I’m the same way; I’m just learning, still to this day, what chord I’m playing. Basic fucking bullshit. I wrote what each note is on my piano with a Sharpie. To be happy with music that you’re making, the traditional sense of learning is optional, completely. It would help to be good. I think you probably know more about guitar than I do, honestly.

DAVID: It’s easier to communicate what’s going on with someone. I like knowing what they’re saying. I feel like I’ve gotten better playing with better musicians saying, “It’s a G,” not like, “The one that’s in between.”

DOMENIC: When you were playing in All Teeth, you sang in that band too, right?

DAVID: I just sang, but I still wrote all of the guitar parts.

DOMENIC: Did you start playing guitar when you were in Murphys, [California]?

DAVID: I wanted to start playing around 12, and since I have cerebral palsy, that affects my right side—

DOMENIC: I don’t mean to interrupt you, but I was actually going to ask you about the cerebral palsy.

DAVID: When I was in my mom’s stomach, my umbilical cord wrapped around my neck and cut off the blood circulation, and they did an emergency C-section. It just affects the right side of my body where everything moves a little bit slower. It’s delayed. It’s kind of a crazy thing, and I feel a little bit luckier than someone who had something traumatic happen in their life that changes them, because I was just born with it. It makes all of the muscles, all of the tendons, and everything super tight. I had to do physical therapy from 4 to 15, but then, I got too angsty-teenager and treated it like it was piano lessons or something. I actually need to be doing constant physical therapy.

DOMENIC: I never feel like I notice it after meeting you and hanging out a few times. You’re kinda all over the place like a little ball of energy anyways.

DAVID: Yeah, it’s a weird thing, because I never know how it’s perceived on their end. I’ve said this before, but I feel like I make unconfident people who are already nervous about how they’re perceived very uncomfortable.

DOMENIC: You can tell a lot about a person by the way they act on anything that you’re struggling with, because it reflects back on them. You can get a good read on that person.

DAVID: It affects the right side of my body, so I couldn’t really hold a guitar pick or hold chords with my right hand, so I just instinctively wanted to play with my left hand. If I air-guitared, I air-guitared it left-handed, but I can’t hold a chord with my right hand. I have trouble holding a pick with my right hand as well. After a while, I asked my parents for a guitar. We were broke as fuck, so it wasn’t just like “whatever,” but they debated not getting me a guitar, because they didn’t know if I could even do it or not and were trying to protect me, I guess?

DOMENIC: That seems like a legitimate concern, though, for sure.

DAVID: My dad found a guitar on the side of the road that had all these holes in it, and he took rubber cement and plexiglass and filled this guitar. It was a child’s nylon string guitar. It was so fucking heavy, and all of the frets were, like, dead, but I played that thing every single day—and we lived in this one-bedroom cabin thing.

DOMENIC: How old were you around this time?

DAVID: Probably like 12 or 13. We had the VW Bus parked out front, so every day after school, I would just go in there by myself and play guitar. I played it for a year, and then, when Christmas came around, they gave me this guitar that was my cousin’s—who didn’t give a fuck about it, and it was just out in her room, sitting there in the sun, got all sun-warped and cracked—and that’s the guitar that I still have now. I was super embarrassed of it, ’cause it was still cracked from being in the sun. I’ve written everything on it.

DOMENIC: I hope you’re not bringing that thing out on tour anymore.

DAVID: I brought it on the last one, and the neck got cracked. I brought it into a guitar shop to get fixed, and they were like, “Dude, this is not salvageable or worth it.” I was like, “Whatever, I’m willing to pay $500 to fix it.” Then, he started playing it and said, “Dude, this guitar rules!” So, it’s in the shop now. Hopefully, when we’re back from Europe, I’ll be able to pick it up and it’ll be brand spankin’ new.

DOMENIC: When we went to Europe last, I brought this notebook I had that had all of the original lyrics to all of our old stuff, and I fucking left it on an airplane in Portugal—probably because I did that thing that I talked about earlier with the fucking Lorazepam. I left it in the back of the seat, and I literally still think about it constantly. It had such history, and I lost it. It crushed me. I was just hoping, one day, someone was gonna come across with this thing, but I knew it was probably never gonna happen and went right in the trash, ’cause it looked like a fucking homeless person’s memoir the way it was just bound together and shit.

DAVID: I can only imagine. I know, on my last tour that we did with you guys, you got the van broken into, and your bag got stolen with your notepad with all of your shit.

DOMENIC: That was my second attempt at trying to start one—and then, that happened. Now, I literally do not write on paper anymore. It’s heartbreaking. But I don’t ever want to ever see that happen to that guitar either, so keep it at home.

DAVID: On this last Turnstile tour, we were in Austin, Texas, and I found that the neck was cracked. It was in the van and just got tossed around. I was gonna play this cover of this dude named Blaze Foley, this folk country singer that passed away. He’s from Austin, and I was trying to play it, and it was just out of tune, and I took it and chucked it across the stage. My buddy caught it. But at the same time, there’s been so much shit that I’ve had that—living in San Francisco and getting my fucking car broken into and getting everything stolen. You use the word heartbreaking, and it is heartbreaking to lose that stuff, but then, it also it makes things like materials—they don’t matter, nothing matters.

DOMENIC: You know you’re speaking to the wrong person about that. You know all I do is contemplate how none of this shit matters. It’s just when I lose an item that symbolizes the only shit that does matter when you’re here: your thoughts just spilled out onto paper or this piece of equipment that was able to save you in so many different ways by writing music on it. I get all of these guitars and Fenders, and I put them through the walls, you know what I mean? Fuck those guitars, but the notebooks and shit like that—I just want to be an old man and just have this disgusting-looking notebook. You are right, but that’s like the sliver of optimism that’s running through my body that still wants to appreciate something in this lifetime.

DAVID: On that tour when you got your bag stolen, you tweeted for everyone to bring clothes, and you got that crazy full-print baseball tee. There’s a picture of us in Minneapolis—you gave me this shirt that says, “Wanna go halfsies on a baby?” or some shit. I actually took all of my shit yesterday and just dumped it on the street in Oakland in front of Nick’s house, and that shirt was definitely in there.

DOMENIC: I hope you see some tweek walking down the street in it, like, a year from now. You know it only could come from one place. I had another question, and it kind of ties into this shit we were talking. I mean, obviously, dealing with that illness, that had to make growing up a little bit rougher than it already is. I know how people can be. That’s the reason why I got into punk rock in the first place, because I always felt isolated from people and I was teased, and everywhere I ended up, I just never felt like I fit in. I’ve seen you drunk onstage, which is the easy way out—which is why I’m always wasted—but I’ve seen you on sober nights, and you’re very comfortable onstage. I’m curious, was that always how you were as a kid? Were you very outgoing like that, or is it something that you kind of just built yourself into as you grew a little bit older?

DAVID: I don’t know, it’s weird just being born with it, because I don’t know any other way.

DOMENIC: I don’t even necessarily mean because of the cerebral palsy. Being onstage in general is a terrifying thing, and most people can’t do it. How do you juggle both of those things and still manage to go out there and put yourself out there and perform? Was that always how you were? Were you, like, a kid that was just comfortable with yourself, always? It’s a really triumphant thing to do, and there’s a lot of people that would never be able to put themselves out there in that situation. It’s amazing that I’m even able to get Brandon onstage anymore, because he’s such an anxiety-ridden dude, you know what I mean? To me, it’s just cool to see that happen, and it’s probably great for other people to see that as well.

DAVID: I feel like when we go on tour, I just go into this weird little mode where it’s pretty much “Let’s just fucking get through this.” Just trying to make it through it. It’s like how you said about drinking—that is the easy way out, just fucking get wasted, and then, you just don’t care, but at the same time, it’s like screaming. You can maybe relate to this too. Before, I just played in punk bands where I compensated for everything I was insecure about by just fucking screaming my head off.

DOMENIC: Yeah.

Culture Abuse / Nothing cover - New Noise Magazine Issue 41
Culture Abuse / Nothing cover – New Noise Magazine Issue 41

DAVID: Playing in hardcore bands where I’m just screaming and running around and being psycho, spitting on myself, kind of compensated for that. I’m still trying to figure out how to just sing and stand there, you know?

DOMENIC: Yeah, it’s always going to be a learning process—especially coming from a hardcore or a punk band where there’s so many other things to hide behind. You know, simply putting yourself out there as a vocalist essentially is a crazy transition.

DAVID: This last time that we went over to the U.K., right before our first show in the U.K., I slipped in the shower on these wet tiles. I fell on my elbow and busted my elbow open to the bone and fractured my elbow right before we had to play our first show. There was no time for me to go get stitches, so we just bandaged it up and put a little brace thing on it. The next day, we played Hyde Park, and Tim Armstrong [from Rancid] was front-row watching us play. We’re playing with Green Day, and I can’t even bend my elbow without splitting it open and my bone popping out. That whole U.K. tour, I had to just stand there. I couldn’t even hold the microphone, because I always hold it with my left hand. I was forced to be OK with just standing in front of people and singing.

DOMENIC: How nervous were you?

DAVID: So nervous, but I can’t even hold the microphone, I can’t even, like, do anything. I’m just standing there. It’s not like one of those things where I have a big-ass cast on it or anything; it’s literally ace-bandaged up, so no one could see how severe it was. It was just fucking crazy.

DOMENIC: Who else, growing up, especially around the time you first picked up a guitar, were your idols then? What were you listening to then? When you write songs, it has an early rock ’n’ roll, doo-wop kind of feel to it a lot of the time.

DAVID: Since I was born, my mom’s the biggest music fan, and she used me as her little buddy to show mixtapes.

DOMENIC: Same, same, same—yeah.

DAVID: Until I was in fifth grade, I literally only listened to The Beatles and Motown and ZZ Top and old music. My mom would always be making me new tapes. But then, when I got in fifth grade and people were like, “Oh, you don’t know who Green Day is?” I discovered this whole alternative world, and I was like, “Oh shit.” Green Day and Third Eye Blind, and I started diving more into punk and just being like, “This is the same.” It just made sense to me to go from listening to The Beatles and then, like, listening to Misfits or listening to Sex Pistols or The Clash. They’re still songs, but they have attitude and a message and a reason to do what they do. When Rolling Stones and The Beatles were doing it, they had a reason. They’re all different reasons, but it had a point, and they’re still just songs and beautiful.

DOMENIC: It all follows the same path, pretty much. I just always love when we would sit backstage, and we would fuck around and play Strokes songs or play each other’s songs that we were writing that could be future songs for our respective bands or whatever. I just always enjoyed that—it always had a bit of that early rock kind of feel to it.

DAVID: When you write a Nothing song, I know it’s you in your apartment with your acoustic guitar just playing. When Nothing songs are finished on the record, is it what you imagined it being when you’re sitting in your apartment? Or is it, like, a completely different beat?

DOMENIC: Sometimes it is, but most of the time, it’s like if you envisioned a painting that you were about to paint, and you were staring at a blank canvas and you were just like, “I’m gonna paint a self- portrait” or “I’m gonna paint David.” What you think is going to be on that canvas is going to be completely different than what it’s actually gonna wind up looking like. I think it’s just weird hearing yourself coming through back at yourself.

It’s always going to be strange, especially with vocals. I hate hearing my vocals, but you know, a lot of time, the brilliant part—or not the brilliant part, but the cool part about me and Brandon’s relationship with this stuff is what we bring to each other’s songwriting. We occasionally do our own songs, but it’s very rare that we don’t have a hand in something that’s involved in each other’s work. It always just elevates it a little bit, having someone around that you respect well enough that you can confide in them completely like that. There’s only been a couple times where we’ve ever really argued about a song and the direction it’s going in. We argue about everything else, but we never argue about songwriting. I know you know about that.

DAVID: Uh-huh. And I’m sure it has nothing to do with excessive drinking or drugs.

DOMENIC: I hate to say it, ’cause it’s like some 10-step shit, but we’re both very into things being the way we want to see them, so it’s hard to have a creative project where you have multiple brains that are all creative and intelligent individuals—most of the time, at least a couple are. Making it all work together, me and you have the same kind of vibe about that. I feel like that’s why we run into problems sometimes. It’s probably our fault mostly.

DAVID: Right, it totally is, ’cause everything still always works out, even the shit I freak out about. Do you like that struggle is always attached to your music? There has to be this struggle or pain that created this thing, but isn’t that life? Doesn’t everyone go through it? Everyone goes through it.

DOMENIC: It’s tough getting to a point where you finish this record, and now, all of a sudden, you have this team that’s around you, which is still new to me and we’re three records in now. I always feel like I’m on a balance scale with what’s authentic and what I’m being asked to service as a narrative. The one thing that rings true, always, is that—you’re right, life is essentially always just filled with pain, and that’s obviously why I play music. It’s always been my motivation since the early days of playing in punk bands: to sing from pain. I get that it’s a natural thing, but as I mature into this philosophy that I’m always trying to jam down people’s throats, I get more and more comfortable with the fact that I know that this is what this existence is. It is about balancing the pain and moving forward. It’s utterly the only reason why we’re here, is to struggle.

With this record—this past couple years have been—with head injuries and stuff like that, just dealing with all these new emotions and feelings. It is a little bit easier for me, these days, to just laugh it off a bit more instead of dwelling on it and just become more and more comfortable with what everything is. I wanna be careful not to disguise it and act like it’s not there. I wanna form myself to be callused enough to know exactly what it is and to be OK with that and to sit in the flames and just be able to be in the flames—you know what I mean?

DAVID: Yeah, I had someone do an interview that was like, “When you guys did Peach, all of this stuff went wrong for you guys,” but now, you do this new record and “everything seems to be going great.” It’s like, “It’s been two years!” I don’t know about you, but how often is it: “Oh, two years, nothing bad happened—it’s all been great.” It’s always fucking bad, and even the person reading this interview, in the last two years, I bet they had multiple things that they could be like, “This fucking sucked, this fucking sucked, this fucking sucked!” It was almost like if I didn’t have something juicy, then what would we talk about?

DOMENIC: Yeah, “What is the selling point of this record?” That’s a question that comes through by publicists and management and label. They wanna know, “What’s the scoop?” You know, “What was going on with you during this time?” You kind of say it, and then, all of a sudden, it’s this story. Then, you’re like, “OK, well, that’s what happened, so fuck it,” and then, all of a sudden, it starts to travel on a press report and you see it popping up in several different publications. Then, you’re getting interviewed, and it’s the only questioned you’re asked, and you feel like you’ve exploited yourself because of a simple story—that did happen and was a major part of everything that’s going on, but now, it’s the centerpiece for this thing, and it just seems like now you’re just fucking complaining. “Everyone’s got things going on.” “Life’s rough, suck it up.” You know what I mean? That’s never your intention.

You know how often I have to hear about the prison shit? It’s embarrassing to me at a point. “Yeah, OK, we get it, you were in prison.” That wasn’t really my intention to have that jammed down your throat. For me, that was like a coming-out thing. I’m gonna put this out there. I know that my name is forever going to be google-able, and everyone’s gonna know I was in fucking prison now, you know what I mean? Thankfully, my life is already way over, so it doesn’t matter, but you know what I’m saying.

There is a push for narrative, and at the end of the day, no one’s gonna go, “Oh, their publicist asked them for that. They just kind of sold that as a story.” No one’s ever going to say that. They’re just gonna say, “This dude’s always bitchin’, and he’s been in prison and his head hurts and—” you know? Or like, “David’s got cerebral palsy.” That’s not what the fucking band’s about. That’s definitely a pivotal thing that helps shape every track and everything about it I’m sure, ’cause it’s something you’ve been living with your whole life. But like I said, we’ve never even really talked about it before besides this.

DAVID: Yeah, yeah—it is kind of crazy sometimes when it gets made to feel like it’s just looking for your pain.

DOMENIC: Yeah, I’m guilty of it too. I’m so attracted to it. I look at my favorite poets, and 85 percent of them killed themselves. I’m attracted to the pain, because I feel like there’s a lot of content in it that’s inspiring. That’s why I try not to beat myself up too much over it, because people are gonna do what they want with these stories, but the people who actually need this stuff and are dealing with mental issues, like depression or physical incapabilities, if they’re able to go home and squeeze something out of it and have a nicer day—I know it’s not going to save their lives in any sense, but if it could make them have a decent half-hour, that’s pretty fucking cool. Every time I get a message from someone saying something like that, it doesn’t make me happy, but it makes me feel a little bit more content with what I do.

DAVID: Simple question and simple answer: Do you like your new record?

DOMENIC: I do, I do. I usually have a hard time listening after the record is finally mixed, because I’m very hands-on with that as well. I get to this point when we finally have a decent mix where I go in, get stoned as fuck, put headphones on, and dig in. When I’ve finally done that and, then, working on videos and hearing a song again and again because of that, I’m like “fuck this.” I already hate hearing myself anyway, and I get bummed. But this record is different to me for some reason. I don’t know why. Having [producer] John [Agnello], he did a lot of the heavy lifting, which I’ve grown to find out is the best kind of partners you can get to work with. When you find out you don’t have to interject as much, that’s what a healthy partnership is: when you can trust them. He did a lot of the heavy lifting initially, so those first mixes sounded great, so there was less dissecting and more just enjoying what was coming out. So, I like most of it, yeah, for sure. What about you?

DAVID: [Pause, sigh] Yeeeaahhh—yeah. [Laughter] No, I—

DOMENIC: You can’t say no, man! You gotta sell this record! [Laughter]

DAVID: I can’t say no? [Laughter]

DOMENIC: I love this fucking record, man. You know we talked about this so much during that tour, our love for the same music: Lemonheads, Strokes, all this cool stuff. It seems like such a natural progression from the first record or the Spray Paint the Dog stuff. It’s progressively growing into so much more than it originally started, and I’m thoroughly impressed, so I want to hear what you think of it as well.

DAVID: It crazy, because there’s so many times that I was just losing my mind on it. We worked on it collectively for, like, three months, and then, when the record was finally done, me and [] Barbara [Georges] put it on and laid on the floor in our room and were both were crying. We, [the band], listened in the van driving from San Francisco to Cleveland from start to finish, and everyone at the end was like, “Why are you crying? Why are you crying?”

So, I love it, but I feel this urgency to start doing the next one. I wanna keep going with what we’re learning and feeling comfortable. I feel like we just let it all out there and put out a vulnerable record, not just in content but in sound. So, now, I just wanna go back in the studio and record another record and keep pushing it. Now, I wanna go and write a heavy-ass record and an even more beautiful record—the concept, more and more, where you get all these songs and put them out as one thing and tour on it, and people can be like “this record or this record.” But songs never stop. There’s still songs from high school that aren’t finished—and one day, they’ll be on a record.

DOMENIC: You also stepped into a beautiful studio this time with a producer, and Fender is giving you guitars, you’re into that thing now. You guys are just ballin’ and having this time and space, and it’s this whole new environment. You immediately turn around and look back at it and think, “I should’ve done this. I shoulda done that,” and I think that’s completely natural.

DAVID: I just saw a text from 30 minutes ago that said we’re about to board our flight to London.

DOMENIC: That would be sick if you missed your flight for this interview.

DAVID: Or if the band just forgot about me and just left me here.

DOMENIC: If you had to pick one song off the new record, what would it be?

DAVID: That’s a tough one, but right now, I’ll say “Rats in the Walls.”

DOMENIC: I love that song too, it comes so good after “Bay Dream.”

DAVID: I still need your full record.

DOMENIC: Too bad, we don’t want you leaking it!

DAVID: You know I will. I’ll be selling it.

DOMENIC: No, I totally forgot. I’ll send it now.

DAVID: I bet someone in the U.K. will pay top dollar for it.

DOMENIC: I don’t know, U.K. are cheap bastards, man. Their money’s too expensive. Drink a cider over there for me. Love you, man.

DAVID: I’ll drink two. Love you too.

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