Patrick Kindlon on Drug Church, his vocal abilities and Biff Wiff: “I’m lucky to remember any of our songs”
“I apologise for being a typical musician and showing up late,” Patrick Kindlon says, sitting in the front seat of his car. He was at a Kinko’s trying to scan something, and it was not going well, so the Drug Church frontman lost track of time. This was the week that the Albany post-hardcore powerhouses were set to release their hotly-anticipated fifth album, Prude, another brilliant addition to their oeuvre. It features increased use of melody, and noticeably, Kindlon pushes himself further by singing more extensively, typifying the band developing their formula once more.
As this is the Drug Church frontman, his answers were as substantial as expected from the mind behind the black comedy of the staple ‘Weed Pin’ and newer Prude cuts such as ‘Demolition Man’. While he thinks the latest album is “a great record”, for him, the real work has now begun. “This is not to be a wet blanket about things,” he says, “But the challenge of trying to get these songs correct live has begun, and that’s not a thing I’m good at.” He generally messes up the first handful of shows, so he’s now studying the new batch intensely in the hope of not fudging the lyrics, “but I will mess them up. It’s inevitable,” he notes deadpan.
Kindlon is not your typical frontman. After the band completes the music, he writes the lyrics using a stream-of-consciousness approach. He’s not just the last one to add to the mix, either. Once he records the tracks, he doesn’t usually think about them until it’s time to go out on tour.
While he states drummer Chris Villeneuve listens to Drug Church more than anybody else, Kindlon has a different approach, and once he’s recorded, he likes to have time away “because I know I’m going to be singing them hundreds of times,” he laughs. “My experience with those songs is going to be extensive. They dropped it on me two days ago that we’ll be playing stuff from old records we’ve never played. And also some of the new songs that I would not expect. So I have a lot to learn, I guess, is what I’m saying.”
What older material? He reveals that Cheer staple ‘Dollar Story’ is one, as is another from the 2018 record that he didn’t specify. Kindlon and the band squabble over set variation because he wants a very stringent setlist that they hone to be as close to perfection as they can by the end of a tour; however, the others see it differently.
“They’re more musical guys than I am, so they need the variety, the intellectual stimulation of playing new stuff that they haven’t played a million times,” he reasons. “I’m lucky to remember any of our songs, even the songs that we have played a million times. So, I need it to be repetitive. I love the 20th day of a tour when I feel like I’ve finally remembered the lyrics, and I’m dialled in, and I’m ready to go…” Customarily, by that point, the band are sick of the same set and ready to mix it up.
“My brain is just not a great brain,” Kindlon says, lifting an eyebrow. “My memory is not good, period. Then, for the things I make, it seems that for whatever reason, once I finish them, I’m thinking about the next one.” It takes him around a year of hammering out the songs live for them to start to impress upon his memory, and even then, some slip through, including their most popular song: “We’ve played ‘Weed Pin’ 300 times, and the other day, we stepped out on stage, and I thought to myself, ‘I do not remember a single word of this song. This is not going to go well.’ It’s always the first line.”
Following this trail of thought, Kindlon debated Drug Church playing deeper cuts like ‘Aging Jerk’ from 2015’s Hit Your Head. He explains that the problem with revisiting older tracks like that is that many people seem to only know from Cheer onwards and stare blankly at the band like, “I don’t know this one” if they trawl further into their back catalogue.
It’s a musician’s problem, he maintains, deciding between the material they want to revisit and the stuff fans are there to see and enjoy. While his other outfit, Self Defense Family, would happily play a set entirely of new material, and everyone would leave unhappy, “Drug Church is a very interactive thing,” and when people aren’t launching themselves off the stage, he gets pissed.
Perhaps slightly younger fans aren’t old enough to remember the early material, and given that hardcore and adjacent sounds are having a moment in the mainstream, this has impacted Drug Church’s audiences, too. Kindlon states “it’s been a great benefit” to his band that there’s been a moment “for the more accessible hardcore-leaning material” as newcomers seek the communal experience.
However, the unfortunate reverse of this is that there are now people in the crowd who see Drug Church as a new band, and some aren’t necessarily revisiting their older material. This is a phenomenon Kindlon’s come to accept in music, as he’s guilty of it too; naturally, most people start with the record that struck them first and move forward with an artist from there, with only a portion delving into the past. “Sometimes I get sad about it because there are so many bands whose best material is probably their earliest, and that should be revisited,” he adds.
It’s an intriguing matter, as Drug Church have always been adept at burnishing their formula with each release, as Prudeaffirms. Despite their distinctive sound, it seldom feels like they’re retreading old ground. “Trust me, I wish we could retread old ground because I’m pretty limited as a vocalist,” the frontman concedes, stating that with each record, the band puts more faith in him, which he deems misguided. They’ll keep expanding by getting a touch more melodic, thus pushing him vocally. “I don’t think I’ve done anything to justify that trust,” he guffaws.
Kindlon keeps teasing that the band will do “a properly hard record” soon because that’s what he’s most comfortable with. While he says he’s not a great hardcore vocalist, at least he knows how to do it, whereas with singing, he’s out of his comfort zone. Some groups don’t care if the singing sucks; that’s not the point, but his bandmates like quality vocalists: “They probably write songs thinking, ‘Maybe Patrick will learn this time, maybe Patrick will get it right.’ But I never will, and they should learn.”
Regardless of the self-effacing humour, Kindlon is in no doubt that in their time together the quintet have become better musicians collectively and “very, very good at being Drug Church.” Although he thinks this might have hurt them individually in that they’re so attuned to each other that they couldn’t easily step into other musical roles – which makes you wonder about guitarist Nick Cogan being in Militarie Gun – they’ve been together so long that they can take certain things in good faith. In proper form, this includes when someone is likely to mess a part up. Kindlon advised speaking to the rest of the band for a more substantial answer about individual improvement, though.
As the Drug Church’s leader’s phone danced dangerously with a low battery, and the time I had to go out edged ever closer, how the band got I Think You Should Leave legend Biff Wiff in the hazy videos for Prude singles ‘Demolition Man’ and ‘Slide 2 Me’ required an answer.
“That’s funny,” Kindlon starts. “I hate music videos and did not want to be in one. My bandmates tried to get Tim Robinson to play me because we have a superficial similarity, right?” Unfortunately, the influential comedian couldn’t do it as he’d just won “an Emmy or something,” so he didn’t need a Drug Church video. However, the agent they were liaising with said, “But I got Biff Wiff…”
The rest of Drug Church jumped at the opportunity: “You got Biff Wiff? Let’s fucking go.”
Even though the casting didn’t make sense in that Wiff couldn’t play Kindlon, they all admired his work, and it turned out to be an immensely fulfilling experience: “He was the kindest guy with really good stories. He’s been a working actor for almost longer than I’ve been alive, and to hear his life it’s really fascinating. He’s just great.”
Wiff was the most Drug Church figure they could have possibly used for the videos; it just made so much sense. Despite Kindlon’s doubts about his vocal abilities, having a family member of Wiff’s, who’s a fan of the band, advise the actor at a wedding that he should do the videos must be the point of much satisfaction, as should Prude, another sonic home run. We await the day that hypothetical hard album arrives.
