The name might suggest some kind of internal struggle, but Battleme tries to keep things intuitive, says bandleader Matt Drenik. “Other people have these interpretations of the name: ‘Are you trying to battle yourself with your pop songs and your loud songs?’“ Drenik jokes from his home in Portland, Ore. “I’m like, ‘Not really. I don’t know what I’m doing.’” When listening to Battleme’s latest, Future Runs Magnetic (El Camino Media), the idea that Drenik doesn’t know what he’s doing sounds far-fetched, with his bedroom-pop sensibilities somehow finding common ground with the record’s brasher rock songs. But the first Battleme tracks were very different. While still a member of Austin stoner-rock band Lions, Drenik recorded some country/folk songs under the Battleme moniker for Sons Of Anarchy. Drenik will be guest editing magnetmagazine.com all week. Read our brand-new feature on him.
Drenik: About a month ago, my band was in the middle of a 10-week U.S. tour promoting our new record. We hit Washington, D.C., on a Sunday and had until Tuesday night to get to Charlotte, N.C. Days off on tour can either be a complete drag or a massive blessing depending on who you’re talking to in the band. I usually side with the latter. So we’re barreling through Virginia with no real destination in site. Ash D (my band’s TM) leans over and says, “I heard Chapel HIll is cool. Let’s go.” Two hours later, we’re in a chicken-and-biscuit shack just off the town’s main drag. “It’s the only thing I know there,” read a text from our friend in Red Fang. Fair enough. Not long after reading that text, I’m a sad sack of shit, feeling sorry for myself because I just mauled several pounds of deeply fried food. My gut instinct was to get a hotel room, chalk Chapel Hill up to being another sleepy college town on a Monday night and bury my guilt in a pillow. But my “I don’t give a shit, I’m on tour with a night off, let’s make some fun” kicked in and we found The Cave. Crushed between two buildings, the room actually did feel like you were trapped in a dark cave.
“Hey! I know you!” Ash D yelled at the bartender. “We played together at Emo’s.”
“Ah. The Moaners,” the girl said.
We ordered round after round, soaking up the small cavern like we’d haunted it a million times before. No food? Fuck it. We were collapsing inside a sunken treasure on a random Monday night with the girl from the Moaners cranking old R.L. Burnside jams while the rest of the world snored.
“What are you doing here?” someone asked.
“Just looking for some fun.” I said.
