As was the case with Diamond Rugs’ 2012 self-titled debut record, much of the band’s sophomore album, Cosmetics, formed and grew in the studio. That’s an impressive feat, considering that Diamond Rugs is something of a weekender project for members of no fewer than five bands, all of whom keep moderate-to-ridiculous recording and touring schedules anyway: John McCauley and Robbie Crowell (both Deer Tick), Ian St. Pé (Black Lips), T. Hardy Morris (Dead Confederate), Bryan Dufresne (Six Finger Satellite) and the legendary Steve Berlin (Los Lobos, Blasters and about six dozen other outfits). The boys in the band will be guest editing magnetmagazine.com all week. Read our recent feature on them.
Dufresne: The earliest memory I can recall is of my brother pushing me, zooming me across the green-and-blue deep shag carpet of the living room as I sat in the dust cover of his turntable. A fair amount of photographs taken in our living room during that time period include myself seated in a giant blue bean-bag chair, wearing giant headphones tethered to the receiver by a coiled black cord. One is of myself sleeping with the headphones on, a plastic toy guitar across my chest. I must have fallen asleep “playing along” to whatever record was playing—most likely Led Zeppelin, early Aerosmith, Neil Young, Kiss, Beatles or any other rock ‘n’ roll that I was fortunate enough to be exposed to, thanks to my two older brothers. I remember staring at the Kiss Alive album cover and actively thinking, “That is what I’m going to be when I grow up.” While I did not become a member of Kiss, I did do all I could to ensure a life full of music, specifically rock ‘n’ roll.
I signed up for the school band as early as possible (around age 10) and while choosing an instrument, I remember being disappointed that there was no “guitar” option with a little checkbox next to it. I wrote it in, drew a box, and checked it, hoping for the best. I played tenor saxophone for a few years until setting my sights on the drums. I had no desire to play in the school band at age 14, and had made up my mind to form a rock band with my friend Jon, who had been playing guitar for a while. That Christmas, I was lucky enough to unwrap a snare drum and immediately sought lessons. I learned how to hold a stick and play a paradiddle. Keeping a steady beat came to me very easily. Four months later, I had gotten ahold of my first kit—a five piece with a crash/ride and hi-hat. I went back to the stereo, put on the headphones and played along with Led Zeppelin’s Physical Graffiti until I could play it reasonably well (about a year, and I know I was doing a miserable job at it; hahaha) front to back. I’m still learning how to play that record, still learning from that record, and I still cannot get enough records-through-headphones in my life to this day. It has proven a great asset as far as gaining a musical education and as a way to really get into and study what’s going on in a particular song. How else would I have gotten a hold on Van Halen’s “Hot For Teacher,” if I hadn’t had the option to listen repeatedly with my finger up against the edge of the turntable, slowing it down to a graspable speed? Records and rock ‘n’ roll have obviously formed a great deal of my perceptions, learning processes, and abilities, and I could not feel more appreciative and fortunate to be able to play and record with a rock ‘n’ roll band and to put out copies of our efforts on vinyl. “Hail, hail, rock ‘n’ roll!”
Video after the jump.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dHr6SASU5cc
