BlackBook Magazine

We Are Scientists have been embraced by U.K. critics who know better. But is it too late to win our musical darlings back? Below, a dissection.

In 2005, We Are Scientists emerged as punk-funk debutantes equipped with fully-crafted, danceable hits and a persona that seamlessly mixed scholarship with stupidity. On their first album, With Love and Squalor, the Booklyn-based then-trio of frontman Keith Murray, bassist Chris Cane, and drummer Michael Tapper flirted with their fans stateside, kicked up some feet, and sent ripples through the music press—all the while having good hair.

Three years later, they’re back in fine form, albeit missing a drummer limb. The press release for Brain Thrust Mastery—out May 13 via Astralwerks—explains their absence. They were, apparently and falsely, “at weight-loss camps, alcoholics’ dry-out facilities, and a race car school.” In reality, despite paying rent in Brooklyn, they spent time across the pond, virtually defecting and conquering the U.K. while in support of bands like the Arctic Monkeys and the Editors. They’ve been wooed. New Music Express took them under their wing, no less than four U.K radio stations made “After Hours,” the first single off Brain Thrust Mastery, their single of the week, and they’ve since been seen hob-knobbing with members of U2.

It’s true: The U.S. hasn’t paid enough attention. But with our re-introduction to the band, we just might start. Below, we talk with Murray from somewhere in the U.K about this and more. Like, why are kangaroos so difficult to work with, and why doesn’t Dear Abby just go ahead and kill herself already?

BLACKBOOK: What’s your reception like over in the U.K. since NME has latched on to you guys?

KEITH MURRAY: What’s it like to be riding the NME wave? It’s good. For whatever reason, well, I guess I do sort of know the reason: the mainstream radio and TV over here definitely slants far more indie than American mainstream does. So we do fit in a little more with things that go “top 10” over here.

BB: How does that differ from when you play in the U.S.?

KM: In the States, we’re still sort of an indie commodity and the shows are fun for that reason. They still feel like a bunch of people who have discovered us together through probably fairly similar circuits. Whereas over here, it’s kind of just like, “Oh yeah, guys on TV and radio—go see them. And then party and then throw their pints and stuff like that. Which is also amazing, of course. It’s nice to have both, it’s a true cake and eat scenario.

BB: Who’s filling in for your drummer Michael who just quit the band?

KM: We don’t have a permanent replacement. He’s a guy named Adam Arronson from Los Angeles. And he is solid as hell. But, at this point, we’re sort of in that post-end of relationship euphoria where you just want to, you know, date around.

BB: You’ve got sax on a couple of your songs this time around. Who’s your sax player?

KM: We don’t have a sax player! We need a sax player. I don’t know if you know the band Oxford Collapse from New York? They have a guy who plays sax with them occasionally. He’s not officially in the band, he’s just a band friend who loves to come out to shows and so they incorporate him a lot and they’re opening up for us here in England. I think we may try to steal their sax man for one or two shows.

BB: Your latest single is called “Chick Lit,” which, if not seen written, can sound like a bunch of different things. I saw an interview where someone said it sounded like “clit” to them, but I think it sounds like a delicious candy gum. What’s the song really about? 

KM: Well, it’s actually a reference to the romance novel often derogatorily referred to as “chick lit.” I was just doing an interview where we were talking about the band’s current reading and I was referencing higher-end literature and the person was impressed. And I was like, “Well, no, don’t be that impressed, we also read a lot of terrible shit.” And I was trying to figure out what the male equivalent of chick lit would be. And there’s no sort of nasty name for the kind of garbage dudes read.

BB: You mentioned Oxford Collapse. Who else are you listening to?

KM: We just discovered a band from Dublin, called Boss Volenti. And they’re pretty fucking amazing. They’re sort of like Queens of the Stone Age if Queens of the Stone Age were less aggressively trying to be hardasses.

BB: Let’s talk about animals. You worked with cats for the cover of your first album, there’s a dalmatian in your video for “After Hours,” and pomeranians in the video for the new single “Chick Lit.” What furry creatures are you thinking of for the future?

KM: I’d like to try and incorporate screech owls. And kangaroos—there’s just something funny about a kangaroo.

BB:  I think they’d be hard to work with.

KM: Yeah. The problem is they’re impossible to catch.

BB: Your new album is definitely more sincere and personal than the last one, yet you’ve held on to the humorous persona. Do you ever feel the need to reconcile the two?

KM: I think we definitely don’t feel the need to. I think part of what makes us so notoriously difficult to interview in general is that we sort of defy any attempt to consolidate identity. It wouldn’t seem weird to you if you had a friend who was occasionally funny and was also occasionally morose and occasionally earnest…

BB: Not at all, but you have a public image quite distinct from your music. It’s like a split personality.

KM: [Laughs.] We would be totally insufferable if our music were as snarky as our persona. But I consider it a perfect balancing act, not something that needs to be reconciled. I think if I were all one face, if we were all Interpol-moodiness, I think that’s when you need to demand an explanation, and say, “What the hell is up with you guys? Put on a fucking colorful T-shirt jackass! Get that pomade out of your hair, and get some curl going. Come on!”

BB: Okay.

KM: I’m not picking on Interpol—I like them. They’ve got that one thing they do really well. But come on, shake it up!

BB: Speaking of difficult interviews, at the NME Awards, you interviewed some of the attendees, but called most of them by different names and asked irrelevant questions. Did you tell any of the performers you were interviewing that you were going to fuck with them?

KM: There were a couple of people we thought we were going to get punched by. But we were definitely upfront with them about what it was we were doing because, for us, the point of it was not that we going to make the subjects of the interview look dumb. We weren’t making fun of them, we were making fun of stupid-ass interviewers. That’s actually not far off the mark from a lot of interviews we’ve done.

BB: There’s also a fantastic clip of you guys on YouTube covering “The End of the Road” by Boyz II Men. Were they influential for you? 

KM: I wouldn’t say they were a big influence, but for us to ignore the fact that they were one of the biggest bands in the world when we were 12 or whatever would be denying our roots. I’m not gonna lie! “It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday” moved me as a child. Actually, I will say the East Coast family was a big influence on me as a kid. Man, Bel Biv DeVoe! Damn, “Poison” is still one of my jams.

BB: You also have an advice column on your website that’s pretty well-known. What gives you the authority to tell people what to do?

KM: I’d say just look at our lives. We’ve managed our lives perfectly in every way. Our careers are flourishing. Financially we are stable. We are magnificent lovers. We are highly educated. And our teeth are clean and white. So you wanna ask me again what makes us qualified?

BB: I was gonna test you. I stole a question from “Dear Abby… ”

KM: So, wait, is the test going to be if I match Abby’s advice, I win? Because, in my experience, Abby is wrong 80 percent of the time. I don’t know if you know this, but this is a true statistic about Abby: 30 percent of the people who follow her advice end up taking their own lives. There’s no direct correlation, but it is a haunting statistic.

BB: Okay, here we go: “Dear Abby, I recently won a local vocabulary contest. In school, I am called ‘the walking dictionary.’ People often approach me to find out the meaning of words. Since winning the contest, I have become more popular, and my boyfriend has been trying to use big words when he talks to me or to our friends. The problem is, he uses them incorrectly or mispronounces them. I know he’s trying to impress me, but it’s embarrassing. How can I tell him to stop without hurting his feelings?”

KM: Well, first I would say, I can’t help you unless you’re going to be honest with me. This is like going to your psychologist. Why bother lie to your psychologist? It doesn’t help you. And let’s be honest: that person is not more popular because he or she won a vocabulary competition. In fact, I’m honestly beginning to suspect that this “boyfriend” character is a total figment of the imagination. So, you know what? Put down the book, do a few sit-ups, maybe take a shower, bookworm, then give ol’ Keith a call.

BB: Ah, but that makes you a hypocrite, because you’re quite the man of letters yourself.

KM: But I also do sit-ups. Like I said, we cover all bases.