The Real Deal

Kelley Deal Lives To Tell Her Tale

© 1996 Nice Records

by Kymberli Hagelberg

If she were nothing else, Kelley Deal would still be a great sport. Since her well-publicized bust for receiving four grams of black tar heroin via an Emery overnight courier, she has freely discussed her stay in a Minnesota drug rehab facility, her future as a member of the Breeders, her relationship with her family and the band that began in recovery, the Kelley Deal 6000.

Even her press kit begins with a timeline and the entry: November '94 -- Arrested for drugs. Characteristically, she giggles loudly when she hears that, with a straight face, her publicist's first request when confirming this interview was, "Um, can we use your overnight service?"

For any artist starting the brand new record label, financial considerations are primary. They're no less important for Deal, even though she still recognizes a great joke when she hears one. Calling SCENE from her new home in St. Paul, we discusses KD6K's upcoming release, GO TO THE SUGAR ALTAR, the entertainment value of Deal's newfound sobriety and a possible 12-step program for Martha Stewart.

SCENE: You got recovery and a new band out of rehab. Do you get bonus points for that?
Kelley Deal: Yeah! It was a package deal. (laughs)
SCENE: You're really out on your own now. New band, new label, new house and a new town -- would you have been ready for all this before the bust?
KD: Hell no. Even if I had felt ready, I could never have stayed sober enough. Just to deal with the songwriting and going into the studio -- even though it was something I totally enjoy doing -- there would have been no way. Everything's so wonderful [on heroin], I would have just stared at my toes.
SCENE: So now you're focused?
KD: Yeah. It seems so. I figured this out from my mom. She teaches school. We were talking about gifted children, not that I'm even implying that I am, but she was explaining that they test them in five areas. One of the areas is application. No matter how smart or creative you are if you can't apply it to work, it's all for naught. That's where I was -- for naught.

Creatively, I didn't just get the gene, but before now it was impossible for me to focus and follow through on anything.
SCENE: You can hear a little of that in these songs. Primarily though, they seem like they were made by someone with newly heightened senses, which I guess is good and bad news, considering where you were at the time. Most of them are just at the edge of having any defined structure. Kind of impressionistic, barely-controlled chaos, and the guitars have a real hallucinogenic edge.
KD: I know what you mean. When [guitarist] Jesse Roff and I were recording these, I kept telling him, "more heroiny," and he'd understand.
SCENE: Did the songwriting come easy?
KD: Kind of. Everything happened gradually. The songs came together in an unhurried way, really unforced, but at some point during the songwriting, I had to stop myself and say, "You're writing too self conscious." I'm always anticipating what my sister or boyfriend might say. For me, it takes a really conscious focus for me not to be self-conscious. But it wasn't a struggle.

It's like trying to wiggle your ear. You know you have the muscle to do it. You just need to find it. So it takes a while longer, but one you know where it is, you know.
SCENE: So you didn't seek out anyone's input?
KD: I didn't have a boyfriend at that time, but I probably would have liked to talk to Kim about the stuff, if she hadn't been busy trying to do what I needed her to do -- which was leave me the hell alone.
SCENE: Why did Jesse end up leaving the band?
KD: It's hard to speak for him. He left after we went on this short tour, because I think he wanted to be in a situation where he traveled less.
SCENE: What were you thinking when he left?
KD: I thought, It's the end of the world -- all this stuff was really him. Then I realized a lot of the songs were written before we met.
SCENE: You're learning to give yourself more credit?
KD: Not being confident is, in some ways, a people-pleasing thing I always thought was selfless. The product of low self esteem and a small ego, but I've learned a lot about ego lately and know I don't have a small one.

I mean, think about it. There I was thinking that I had to be there to please everyone else or they wouldn't be happy. Get over yourself, how huge an ego do you have to have to believe that?
SCENE: Why did you form Nice Records instead of going with one of the major labels that were interested?
KD: I didn't like the terms from other labels. And I have help, you know. Cameron Strang -- like strange without the "e" and boy is he -- is my investor-slash-company dude. I met him in treatment, too. He's here to figure out everything else while I concentrate on my music.
SCENE: You've got your own outpatient cottage industry going there.
KD: No. (laughs) Martha Stewart has a cottage industry. Have you seen this woman on TV?
SCENE: There's someone with an ego .
KD: I was watching some show the other day and there she was with that trance-y voice saying, "Isn't it awful when you can't find your shoes." Standing in front of, like, a million shoe boxes with a camera she says, "Just keep them in the box they came in. Take a snapshot and tape it on the side.

Can someone say, "Control issues." No shit! Hello? (laughs)
SCENE: Looking back on all of this, do you ever get resentful that only some of us will have to stay sober for the duration?
KD: You bring up a good point. One of the things that helped me is to never say never. I'm not going to get drunk today -- I'm pretty certain of that. Although it's been overused to the point of being trite, It's pretty much, One day at a time, Sweet Jesus. (laughs).
SCENE: Whoa. Pretty fair Debby Boone imitation you got there. (laughs)
KD: Yeah, she pretty much ruined that phrase for me, but it totally takes the weight off of the notion of eternal sobriety.

Sobriety can even be exotic. Jimmy Flemion [who recorded tracks for SUGAR ALTAR when the band was still called Solid State], is one sober cuss. Lives life totally sober. Never had a problem with it, wasn't forced into it. I found that fascinating as hell. (laughs) But I still hate even saying the words, "trying to stay sober." Sometimes I get to the place where I'd love to tie one on.
SCENE: You're doing OK with it though?
KD: I've been eight months sober. That's my longest ever. I was a late bloomer. I was doing drugs at 14, before I started my period.
SCENE: It makes sense that a straight guy seemed so exotic.
KD: For me, this has all the entertainment value of a trip. There's an endorsement. (Fake announcer's voice) Sobriety. It's a completely different drug. (laughs)
SCENE: You sold your house in Dayton. St. Paul is home now?
KD: Yeah. My dealer lived right behind me. So there was only so much catching up you could do before you became preoccupied. I don't even know if he's still living there, but it became just about my driving down the street, walking up to the door, thinking, Should I leave the light on so people will know I'm here? It became about everything...
SCENE: Before we go, I have to ask. What's up with the Breeders?
KD: The Breeders will get together in August to write some stuff. It'll be cool. I'll still live in St. Paul, but we'll still be a band. We just won't get on each other's nerves.
SCENE: And your own record is out now. Ready to be an executive?
KD: It's not like I'm a mogul or anything. I'm just interested in putting out stuff I like from other people. Right now, I'm simply putting out my own record. There's no reason I have to become this weird, corporate thing. I'm not buying a Jag or a Rolex, so I don't feel like I have to put on that suit.