McCaughan Mac - Our noise : the story of Merge Records, the indie label that got big and stayed small

THE STORY OF MERGE RECORDS, THE INDIE LABEL THAT GOT BIG AND STAYED SMALL

John Cook
with
Mac McCaughan & Laura Ballance

Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill

Published by
Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill
Post Office Box 2225
Chapel Hill, North Carolina 27515-2225

a division of
Workman Publishing
225 Varick Street
New York, New York 10014

2009 by Mac McCaughan and Laura Ballance.
All rights reserved.
Design by Andrew + Mike + Rebecca of We Have Photoshop.

Funeral review, pages 251253, reprinted with permission from Pitchfork.

Frontispiece: The lyrics to My Noise, handwritten by Mac and framed by Phil Morrison.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

eISBN 978-1-56512-968-9

Introduction
Your NoiseMy Noise!!! by Ryan Adams

Chapter One
Death Chick and the Caveman: 1987 to 1989

Chapter Two
Wet Behind the Ears: 1989 to 1991

Chapter Three
Wheres Your Patience, Dear?: Matt Suggs, Butterglory, and White Whale

Chapter Four
The Popular Music: 1991 to 1993

Chapter Five
Signals That Sound in the Dark: Neutral Milk Hotel

Chapter Six
The First Part: 1994

Chapter Seven
The Book of Love: Stephin Merritt and the Magnetic Fields

Chapter Eight
The Question Is How Fast: 1995

Chapter Nine
The Underdog: Spoon

Chapter Ten
Tiny Bombs: 1996 to 1999

Chapter Eleven
The Decline of Country and Western Civilization: Lambchop

Chapter Twelve
Shutting Up: 2000 to 2009

Chapter Thirteen
Us Kids Know: The Arcade Fire

Chapter Fourteen
What Goes In Quiet Comes Out Loud: How Merge Got It Right

Appendix
Merge Records Discography: 1989 to 2009

Go to www.mergerecords.com /ournoisesampler to listen to songs from Merge artists past and present.

by Ryan Adams

All my favorite records and your records crackle like summertime crackles like fried eggs stove-side or accidental fireworks backyard heavy in North Carolina on the coastmid-day it gets so hot even inside, in the cool, the blazing waves of electric orange light pant like a litter of starving dogs just outside the gateyeah, sometimes you just need comics or records to get you through until the dust settles and the damp evening can cool your brains down enough to see past your own stupid face. That was me. Me looking at my first 7-inch record. I was all what and huh, you know....

Merge 7-inch singles came packaged like candy. They also looked a little like comics, which was good because I liked both and I liked girls so much they scared me so it all seemed like the perfect distraction, at least to me, and surely to my grandmother, who would patiently listen with me on our portable record player in the wood-paneled kitchen while she baked this or that cake or whatevershe liked how much cymbal crashing was going onsomehow overlooking the melodic weirdness or angst, how forgiving and awesome those momentsin fact before I had money for records she would write the checks and mail them for each PO-boxed 7-inch I desired in exchange for however many times the lawn got mowed but I did that anyway so really she funded my habit, embarrassingly, and MY GOD at first they were so pretty I could do nothing less than just marvel at each oneSO BEAUTIFULErectus MonotoneCATHODE GUMSHOEprobably the best THE BEST record I own besides this super-duper warped-ass copy of Greg Sages Straight Ahead but whatever, right? Exactly.

I used to think to myself, WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE? WHO ARE THEY and ARE THEY REAL? Also, CAN THEY ACTUALLY BE North Carolinian? I loved PURE so so much too. The Ballard EP is insanely classic stuff. I hunted forever for these people and their stories. I wanted to be inside that dream. I was having such an awful time growing up in the coastal lurch of Onslow County. I started making plans in my mind, in school, for taking off on the weekends for shows (my brother was in Raleigh attending college and would bring me news of bands in Chapel Hill and Raleigh and FLYERSHELL YES!!! All over my room!!!) and I got closer and closer to these people making this mysterious candy with the petroleum shiny insides. And at my best, I would try and be as engaging as the Merge music candy packages all the way down to the little notes xeroxed on colored paper inside. I loved those fucking Mac notes. It was later I realized it was the same Mac as the guy in WWAX. NO WAY

EVERYBODY had their crushes on Laura. I mean, guys did. And ALL THOSE GIRLS they loved Mac. And you know, they were these sophisticated weirdos living in Chapel Hill, that pretty college town. I eventually left home (long story) and I lived in Raleigh and, well, we were supposed to be working class musicians or somethingwe were supposed to have issues with the Chapel Hill scene. It was totally unspoken but it was all right therewritten on the faces of all our local musicians and I think I saw a lot of envy by the time I got to Raleigh. I mean, I came late. I crawled from the wreckage of the crystal coastthe graveyard of the Atlantic, all water-logged and salt heavytears in my eyes. I just wanted to SEE all this music get made. I ended up making just a little myself. Most of it as a way to understand this music I loved and just how much went into making it. The rest happened the way night comes, the way a reed bends in the humidity and how dust gathers where you cant reach it.

Merge singles never worked like that. I mean, I still look at them and think, what exactly is this or I think, Godwhat if everyone could have the experience of living in a place so isolated from everywhere and KNOW this came from only a few hours away. I mean, it was a dream. A hot dream.

I first heard Mac sing when I stopped by a friends house, a guy that lived a block from me in my neighborhood nightmare 1980s mall theme-park world, to record more of his badass mail-order FLIPSIDE magazinesponsored singles. I was over to get a few cassette burnoffs of a few Japanese thrash bands and the new Seaweed. Gosh I loved Seaweed. And there was this single. My pal said, Hey man, I got this and its a bit melodic for my taste but I think you would really love this.

It was WWAX, Pumpkin/Inntown. I took the single home and busted it out on my Barbie-themed little record player (now covered in thrasher magazine stickers)... I probably stared holes through the universe trying to understand how much I loved it. I actually CARRIED IT TO SCHOOL hahahahaha, a record, a 45-rpm single, in my backpack to ensure nothing NOTHING would ever ever ever happen to it.

When I finally made my first record, as in my first real album for a real major label (a no-no where I come from, at least the scene I had come from), I named the first song after that songthe very song that made me want to make any music at all, really.