Part 15: OBM

Dark Wave denizens Our Beautiful Misery have been designated dangerous, described as a disease, and even decried as demonic; however, there’s one d-word that one can’t employ in discussing the double-duo: dumb. The foursome, captained by auteur-cum-frontman Xander Cross, serve as father figures for a fleet of followers; groups such as Brokenfield and L. O. V. E. (Losing Our Very Existence) have followed in their footsteps and found a following in their wake. But none has yet achieved a level of success comparable to Cross’s outfit. 

Indeed, seldom does one see a cadre of fans like The Company (Note: a play on “misery loves company”) - perhaps not since the phenomenon of Beatlemania. They turn out in droves for OBM’s performances and special events; they recite Cross’s lexically-laborious lyrics lovingly; their fealty would foment fury in the fiercest fascismo. It is anticipated that the group’s third album, Black Carousel, will chart at number one; the only question is how long it is to linger.

It is always fascinating to converse with Xander Cross and gain glimpses into the tortured, yet brilliant creative cranium that can craft such couplets as “Ashes and dust, we are all falling down / Down into the spiral, embracing we’ll drown”; this experience was no exception. (Note: as Cross has a predilection for prolixty, this interview has been edited.) 

Why call the record Black Carousel? 

It’s all about the contrast. On the one hand, you’ve got the image of the carousel, which is this fun, happy thing for children to play on - or it’s supposed to be, anyway. I’ve always been kind of freaked out by them personally. But then you’ve also got blackness, death, misery. And it’s like, you can’t ever really get away from that. They’re lurking in everything. Even that innocent, smiling child will one day be a corpse. And there’s something powerful about bringing the two together. It’s the same reason Stephen King made Pennywise a clown, why every decent horror movie has a dead little kid ghost in it. Little kid shit is freaky, man. It’s too happy. You just know there’s got to be some dark kernel in there.

Or I don't know. You've also got the other meaning of "carousel," like where your bags come out at the airport. We travel a lot as a band. So I guess that could also be about the contrast, like this totally mundane aspect of travelling combined with blackness and death. It's easy to feel hopeless when you're exhausted and it always seems like your bags are the last ones to come out and you've been treated like cattle for the past eight hours.

You’ve mentioned in the past that you struggle with depression, anxiety, and OCD. Is that something that we can expect to see reflected in this record? 

You know, I’d really prefer not to talk about that anymore. 

The writer respects your wishes. But I must ponder: why pen such personal poetry if you purport to perpetuate your privacy? 

I mean, it’s not like I’m keeping secrets. Keeping secrets is for people who are too weak to show the world who they really are. But at the same time, it’s like, I’m not going to sit here and tell you about the [expletive] I took this morning, either. You [expletive], I [expletive], we all [expletive], so do we have to [expletive] talk about it? And for a lot of the lyrics, I feel like they’re fairly obvious. Do I really have to come out and tell you that “When I Look At You” is about an unhealthy, abusive relationship? Can’t you get that just from listening to it? 

You’ve kept coy on the subject in the past, but can we take this to mean there is a relationship in your life that inspires these lyrics? 

I mean, there is and there isn’t. Because who decides what counts as a relationship, anyway? Couldn’t I also just be writing about relationships because it’s such a common theme in music? Especially this kind of music. And maybe it’s just a stand-in for whatever you’re passionate about. Whatever you love. Whether that’s a person or music or God or a drug or whatever. It’s all about the feeling, right? So when you feel that way . . . that’s why it’s always you in the songs, why I never say he or she. Because I want everyone to be able to sing along to it and feel like it’s about them. It’s got to be universal. Whether you love guys or girls or [expletive] inanimate objects or whatever, it doesn’t matter. 

So you support same-sex marriage? 

Well, of course. You can’t legislate love. 

What does this record represent in OBM’s creative journey? 

Oh, come on. It’s just some songs. 

That’s awfully humble for someone who has been called “the voice of a generation.” 

Who called me that? I certainly didn’t call myself that. Listen, I’m not who everyone thinks I am. I’m not this deep, tortured soul; I don’t fantasize about blood and corpses; I don’t walk around cemeteries all day and see kids playing on playgrounds and whisper to them, ‘soon you shall breathe no more.’ That’s just the songs. When I’m onstage, it’s like I become a different person. Like something takes control of my body and uses it to speak its messages. I am merely a vessel . . . no, that sounds Satanic. It’s not a demonic thing. It’s just like, it’s not really me up there, you know? 

Speaking of which, are you aware that the National Alliance of Moms and Mothers (NAMM) has condemned OBM as a Satanic organization? 

The National Alliance of Moms and Mothers? That’s their real name? But no, I’ve never even heard of them. But there is this whole long history of condemning music as Satanic and it pretty much never is. From jazz to rock and roll to the Beatles to heavy metal - we’re just the latest scapegoat. It’s ignorance, that’s all it is. What we’re really about is truth and love and enlightenment. Human beauty, human tragedy, you know? But I suppose they’re just playing their part, too, so I can’t really blame them. 

What’s your creative process like? 

My whole life is my creative process, isn’t it? I wake up, I eat breakfast, I watch TV, I read books, I go for a walk, I play guitar. Who’s to say when the songs get written? Maybe I see a billboard for toothpaste and that makes me think about this recurring dream I have where my teeth fall out. And then later I’m working on a song and I need a rhyme for “beneath,” and I think, “teeth.” But maybe if I didn’t see that billboard that morning I wouldn’t have thought of teeth at all. So it’s not all me. Sometimes it feels like the whole world is working together to write these songs. Like I’m just one piece of the puzzle, and not an especially important one. 

Is there a particular time of day that tends to get your creative juices pumping? 

Every day is different. Sometimes it’s the middle of the night, sometimes it’s two in the afternoon, sometimes I wake up with a song lyric lodged in my brain and it’s like I can’t go on with my life until I write it down or find a place for it. 

Do you have musical mentors? 

Lately I’ve been listening to a lot of Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Stravinsky, Pink Floyd. The really out there stuff, though. The deep cuts. Not the [expletive] that everyone listens to. And bands like If You Were The Only One Left Alive What Would You Talk About and Howitzer Hotel, they’re kind of obscure, but they’re the ones who really ought to be getting all this publicity. 

Lastly, let’s talk literature. What are you reading? 

I’ll read anything that falls into my hands. That’s how you climb out of the pit of ignorance. But my favorite book of all time is called The Letter, or that’s what it translates to at least, it’s originally written in Russian and it’s hard to find an English translation of it anywhere. But it’s worth it if you can, although if you really want to read it, you have to read it in the original Russian. It was actually first scrawled on the walls of a Soviet prison camp, and it tells the story of . . . well, I don’t want to give it away. I wouldn’t do it justice anyway. It’s too important to poison with my terrible summary. But if you want to understand me and my music, it’s a good place to start. 

I have learned it’s not a conversation with Cross unless you leave with a lengthy list of LPs and lit to look into. But neglect not Black Carousel, the band’s troisieme disque, dropping December 11th (Xander’s 26th birthday.) Even if you’re not ready to apply for a job at the Company just yet, this is one carousel that definitely deserves a spin.