Spielerfrau - by Katie Hasty
sprechen sie spielerfrau?

Michael Idov had really good intentions of being an asshole to me, he told me so. There's something about forming a band and, subsequently, forming a band's personae that can prove difficult as said band enters into the public realm. Idov, the front man for dark pop foursome Spielerfrau, is vividly aware of such challenges and would like to come off as abrasive and aloof as he enters into his second year with the project.

Unfortunately, for reasons unknown, Idov isn't an asshole to me. He's rather pleasant and mentally intact. Perhaps coincidentally, the band's recent full-length release The Sad Part is a variation on such a theme: ill manners overtaking good intentions of being polite. “It's an exercise in manners and how we behave in a civilized fashion, you can hear it in the first song,” Idov says. “Social Call” is about holding your tongue facing the ex-, Idov singing: “There'll be no ugly scenes/ I'll compliment the wine.”

Of course, the facade of graciousness eventually dissolves, with our protagonist wanting to kick someone in the face and demanding his counterpart to “just be quiet.” “There's a tension in the album, doing what you should do versus what you want to do,” says guitarist Aaron Nevezie. “Musically, the group has that kind of tension too, wanting to add whatever it is that wanted to do, but having to work toward a single goal.”

Spielerfrau (which translates as “footballer's wife” or “trashy trophy wife”) is comprised drummer David Mason, Nevezie, Idov and bassist Michael Kiaer. More uniquely, all hail from outside the U.S. : Ireland , New Zealand , Latvia and Denmark , respectively. Three of the four play and produce music professionally. “I happened to think what we play is pretty catchy, in a European way. We play a lot of minor chords, we have sad, minor melodies, but it's really catchy,” Idov says. “I don't really think of us as an inaccessible band.”

Spielerfrau hark back to other dark rockers like Pulp and Nick Cave , with Idov's Cohen-esque baritone monotone at moments and melodramatic at others. In their recordings, they indulge new wave dramatis and gorgeous tracking, with tape loops, backtracked guitars, “anything to avoid the obvious route.” Live, they play more organically, although Nevezie says they're working hard to find ways to translate their record onto the stage.

But its not their music that threatens unapproachability; Idov (who worked as on anchor on a Russian-language television program) makes weapons out of words and he's not afraid to use them. In “A Civilized Thing,” he croons, “Hither and yon/ Fly the limbs of Laocoon's young/And as Piaf croaks Je Ne Regrette Rien , Well, I've been there too/And I regret tout .” Another track is entirely in Russian. Idov is clearly articulate but, just as the theme determines, his arguments and vocabulary wither away into plainer speech as the album progresses -- sacrificing neither prose nor poetry. His ethereal wit and carefully chosen words make for an intense listen. Lyrics are his bread and butter.

“One thing we offer that not every rock band can is pure, simple intelligence,” Idov says. “Rock ‘n' roll is really, really stupid. The music can be good, it can be amazing, but the lyrics can be stupid. But bands go lo-fi to sound cerebral, the production ends up shitty.” Idov is picky and is entitled to be, having waded through loads of “shitty” bands to find the right ones: he's a freelance music writer. He's written up dozens of reviews for Pitchfork and has contributed to publications like Slate and the unequaled, highly distinguished Deli magazine.

“Of course its impossible to turn a truly objective ear to your own music, but then again, we don't really care what the press think of us. We like the press, wouldn't mind appealing to the press but we can only be lead by what we like.” So far, the press likes what it hears, too. Salon, Pitchfork, New York Press and Time Out have all run favorable reviews on the band's tracks or the first single, “Meringue.” Idov says that, while the band still plays out, they're concentrating hard on gaining footing through the press and (hopefully) a label deal. Then, he says, they can start getting a real fanbase together.

“We don't really want to go the self-release route, [ The Sad Part ] is meant to entice interest, get buzz,” he says. “Getting a label would, in part, validate what we do more than anything. The appeal of our music is more in the clever arrangements and the lyrics.” “We're headphone music,” Nevezie says. “You can't hear so much of what's going on in a big loud room.”

“But we're not dumping on what we do live,” Idov says. “We just want to do something onstage that stands up to the live album.” “We're always asking, how can we reproduce this live? We're so close to the edge of just plain guitar rock, but instead what we make is more like... guitar sounds . Dave had a lot to do with that.”

Apparently drummer Dave is the band's “bullshit meter” and is responsible for much of the droney buzzings and post-rock influences on The Sad Part . Overall, the band works collaboratively to make Spielerfrau more than a hobbyist band and The Sad Part more than just a debut. “I work with three very talented and professional musicians,” Idov says, “and it's my job to keep them interested. I'm just thankful they're even doing this with me.”

So much for the asshole personae.