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: I first met Michael Maker at my friend Steve’s house. It was summertime in Portland, when BBQs ruled the world and the sun was up until 11 p.m.
“You coming to the BBQ?” Everyone asked, every other day.
I knew Michael was the singer for the now defunct Makers, but beyond that I knew little else. Somehow we got to talking about books and more pointedly William Saroyan.
“Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze!” I yelled.
“Yes!” He yelled back, toasting my drink that was already in the air.
A few days later I saw him at another BBQ and he gave me a warped book of short stories by said author.
“Read the last one. It’ll knock you on your ass.” He said.
And it did, in that sad yet beautiful Saroyan way that I grew up loving and stealing from in college.
“Just bring it back to my shop,” he said.
A few days later I made my way into NE Portland (I hated crossing the river) and found the Pop-Up Shoppe off NW 23rd. The shop was adorned in everything vintage, it was a sensory overload of cool and plush that at first reminded me of a shop my brother owned in Cincinnati years earlier. You want some old Creem magazines? Lunch boxes? Ripped and worn T’s? Leather jackets, boots, belts, lamps, stickers, shades, fitted suits? He’s got it and then some. And let’s be honest, most vintage stores stink and some of the people that work in ’em can get so far up their own asses you can’t even tell if they know you’re there. Am I here? But every once in a while you get a good one. And this is one of them. I usually catch myself thumbing through the old rock magazines because, honestly, I’m a whore for any old interviews of how things used to be.
“It was better back then, you know,” he said, almost defiantly. “People knew how to dress.”
And when I needed a wardrobe team to help dress 30-plus slackers for the “Just Weight” video?
“I’ll do it. And drive the bus,” he said.
One minute, I was Pete Townsend; the next, a trembling freak in a mumu. Just don’t tell him I told you about the upstairs portion of the store where he hides the real gems, even though I just did.
