Death Vessel is Joel Thibodeau, a long-haired bard from Brooklyn who happens to sing in a really, really high voice. It's the most apparent, arresting thing about his music; a gentle, rarely-dramatic kind of folkie balladry that mines influences from On the Beach-era Neil Young to Appalachian mountain music. Thibodeau began life in String Builder, a duo he split with his brother, Alec, through much of the '90s. Since reinventing himself as Death Vessel, Thibodeau has released two albums: 2005's Stay Close and 2008's Nothing is Precious Enough for Us. On the eve of the latter's release, Thibodeau colored in his backstory.
Starting out writing songs, was it difficult for you to find your voice? Both literally and figuratively?
“No, I don’t think it was difficult. When I first felt that real certain desire to write a song, I wasn’t sharing it with anyone else. It’s pretty immediate, and evident, how your music sounds: you’re the first person that hears at, and you can decide right away whether or not it’s enjoyable or not, whether to try and refine what you have, change what you’re doing, or just keep with what initially comes from you.”
Did you think your voice would be as much as a curiosity as it has become?
“I guess so. Even ten years ago, when I was performing out with my brother, it was noticeable. And when it was commented on, it actually made me more insecure about things, because I never thought my voice was the most important thing to the song. My focus was always on the song, not on my singing. And, initially, that higher register was just the way that I sang as I was trying to get better at singing. So, in a pessimistic way: sure, from the start, I always knew that other people were going to have a different focus to me. People tend to pay attention to the really obvious things, and of course there’s something that’s noticeably abnormal about the way I sing, compared to the ‘norm.' So, no, I’m not so surprised that people want to make a show of it.”
Did you and your brother grow up singing together?
"Not really. I was in some musicals when I was younger, and one time my brother and I were in a musical together, a local production of Oliver! as some of the orphans. But, we started doing stuff together as teenagers, and, more adamantly when I was in my early 20s.”
Whom were your musical models in those days?
“Early on, as someone who was interested in writing music, I was pretty influenced by stuff on college radio, like Dinosaur Jr, Uncle Tupelo, Superchunk, Archers of Loaf, the Pixies. The first String Builder record didn’t really have any of those influences though. By the time we made that, it was ’98, ’99. It was pretty stripped down, most of the recording was as a duo. I feel like the songwriting was pretty close to what I do now.”
Did Death Vessel come into being as your solo project?
“My brother was focusing a lot on visual art, but I wanted to concentrate on continuing to write songs. He was the person I was most comfortable with —sharing things for the first time, being a sounding board— and I didn’t know if I could find that with someone else. So, Death Vessel was, for lack of a better expression, ‘leaving the nest,’ seeing how I could fare on my own. I wanted to just make some music, and not worry about what the consequences are, or whether it’s going to have any impact on your relationship with the rest of the world.”
And, so, how has the rest of the world related to you?
“Well, I first put out my first record on CDR, and made all the packaging myself. Then I had a record-label out of Maine, where I’m from originally, offer to put it out. But it was still on a pretty small level, so there was still not a whole lot of feedback. Yet, the people who did like that record seemed to have a very pure relationship to it, and found a lot of importance in it. Because no one was telling them to listen to this, it was something they sought out themselves.”
Whereas, with this new record, that’s changed. Now, there’s the power of the Sub Pop machine telling people to listen to this.
“Of course. A lot more people are going to run into this record due to the simple fact that there’s a level of promotion with this record that dwarfs anything I’ve experienced previously. And a lot of them will pay attention to certain cues that they’re comfortable with: label association, other types of associations. They all have an impact on how the world, as it were, perceives you.”
So, as this album’s about to be unleashed upon the world, as it were, how do you feel about it?
“For me, it’s much like all the other records that I’ve made: I’ve put a whole lot of time and effort into it, and you have a lot of positive and negative feelings throughout the process. You can always find things to be hung up on, but for the most part I’m satisfied with the results. And that’s a whole achievement in itself.”
Are you wary at handing it over to the world?
“Oh, sure! I don’t think everyone’s going to enjoy listening to it, that’d be insane. But I am wary of people responding to certain associations that aren’t anything to do with what’s actually on the record. I’m not worried about people not liking it, just being portrayed in an incorrect way.”
Having done so many opening-support tours, have you had a crash course in being paraded in front of new audiences?
“I’ve had the fortunate experience to tour with bands like Low and José González, people who’ve obviously liked me, because they’ve asked me back. Those have been great experiences, and, even when there are bad shows, or bad audiences, ultimately, the positives far outweigh the negatives. It’s sometimes a little bit daunting to play night after night to an audience that doesn’t know what to expect of you, and oftentimes don’t care. But the time spent with the other bands has always meant that it’s seemed a great thing.”
So, you haven’t found yourself heckled off-stage?
“Well, certainly never off-stage. I’ve never had to leave the stage due to boos raining down. But, sure, I’ve been heckled. Sometimes it’s not even people saying anything. There are occasions when there’s just a really audible laugh when I start singing. That feels just short of a flying tomato.”
