Lyle Presler of Minor Threat

02/02/06

Lyle Presler of guitarist of infamous punk band Minor Threat answers our Questions of Doom about the formation of Minor Threat, the Washington, DC punk scene, how Minor Threat went off like a bomb in Reagan-dominated America, straight-edge, Ian McKaye, what broke Minor Threat up, the impact of the band, playing with the Meatman and exactly how evil is Glenn Danzig, Lyle’s take of Steve Albini’s essay ‘The Problem with Music’ and working for the man. 

Who are you?

Lyle Preslar

And what do you do?

Right now I’m a law student.

How did you form Minor Threat?

Well, in the summer of 1980 I was a strapping young punk in Washington, DC
-- actually I was a total wannabe.  But, I had a house basement that my
mother allowed to be used as a practice space for my band The Extorts (I
“sang") and Alec MacKaye’s band The Untouchables.  Ian (Alec’s brother and
Teen Idles bass player) used to come by occasionally, and he was, of course
THE main man on the scene.  We got to talking and I said that I wanted to
play guitar, not sing.  I played one show as The Extorts, and I went nuts
and jumped in the crowd, obviously impressing Mr. MacKaye.  Next thing I
know he and Jeff Nelson want me to play guitar.  We got Brian Baker on bass
and the die was cast.

What were the times like in America during the 80s being at the accidental centre of the hardcore movement?

Well, we had Reagan and mutual assured destruction, so it was all a bit
bleak.  Minor Threat were solidly mid to upper middle class.  We had
relatively stable homes, with the occasional divorce thrown in.  We were
city kids, not suburban (although DC looks suburban to folks from real
cities).  I think there was certainly an undercurrent of political and
social unrest, but in a nation of 200+ million, it’s hard to generalize
much.  But, in retrospect, the real seeds being sown were those of apathy,
selfishness and entitlement—perhaps the biggest problems in America
today.  As far as music goes, as much as the 70’s punks in the UK complained
about the dinosaurs—the Zeps, Who, Stones—remember, we had the real
crap: REO Speedwagon, Styx, Kansas, Boston.  Everyone was so fed up with
that “musician” stuff—you know, mounting your acoustic guitar on stands
so you could play the flowery bridge without taking off your electric, etc.
But, suffice to say that in 1980, if you listened to punk of any stripe you
were a member of a very small club.

Who influenced you to start a band?

My parents were very musically-interested people, and I was fed a steady
diet of Beatles, Stones and singer/songwriters from a young age.  I started
playing guitar and just saw myself being in a band—talent was the real
problem.  I formed a band with some buddies and tried to play our version of
hard rock—really awful.  In high school I tried out for a few bands but
was never even close to being able to play “Hotel California.” Then I
discovered Melody Maker, the NME and import singles.  I found others who
couldn’t play much but, like me listened to the torrent of great stuff from
the UK.  There you go.  Believe it or not, I picked up a copy of the Rolling
Stone History of Rock’n’Roll in the mid-70’s.  I read the thing cover to
cover, over and over.  I said my parents: “One day I’m going to be in this
book.” 20 years later, we got a mention.  But that’s only because the whole
hardcore thing has become so genericized and popular—so, be careful what
you ask for.

Who influenced your guitar style?

Pete Townshend.  He invented rock rhythm guitar.  Everything about him
influenced me: he was a bit geeky, he read books, he could hardly play leads
(although he’s gotten better), he had a high opinion of himself, he played a
Gibson Les Paul through a valve amp.  He was and is the man.  There were
other influences of course that may or may not be hearable in the playing:
Paul Fox of the Ruts, Greg Ginn of Black Flag, Billy Zoom of X.

What was punk rock at ground level zero in Washington?

Well, I’m probably not the best observer of the scene, because Minor Threat
quickly became the biggest band and I was the guitar god and all.
Seriously, it was an incredible scene—you had a unique situation in DC
because the bars were licensed as restaurants which meant that all ages had
to be admitted.  The doormen would draw black x’s on the hands of the
underaged kids so that the bartenders wouldn’t serve them.  The clubs
realized that they could make money off the scene even without selling
alcohol, so we had the benefit of good sound systems and real spaces.  Of
course, we also had straight edge, so everyone was hyped up on Coca-Cola.
With all the youth energy at the shows, it created a scene far different
than the artsy/intellectual ones in some other cities.  DC shows were
intense affairs, and all the traveling bands like the Dead Kennedy’s, Black
Flag, DOA, etc. really liked coming to town.  Slam dancing was de rigeur of
course, but it was hardly violent.  It was more of a game of tackle
(American) football set to music.  There was a lot of wannabe skateboarding
as well.

Johnny Ramone once said to Ian MacKaye - - ‘good energy, but no shtick’ ...
do you feel that the hardcore bands of the eighties were without shtick,
instead, serving straightforward hard rock’n’roll?

Well, I don’t know if Johnny ever said that.  He certainly spoke his mind so
I guess he could have—it’s a great quote!  In any event, it ain’t much of
an indictment coming from the Ramones—who were pretty much all shtick
after all.  And, there’s nothing wrong with straight-ahead r’n’r.  At the
same time, I think it’s hard to say that Black Flag didn’t have a shtick --
the creepy crawl Manson thing and all. If you regard the Misfits as an ‘80’s
hardcore band—and that’s subject to debate—they certainly were full of
shtick.  The Dead Kennedy’s?

Ian McKaye obviously started to be centre of attention—did any of his views on life cause discontent within the band?

Absolutely.  I know of very few successful musicians on any level that lack
monstrous egos.  We all certainly had them.  Ian was also principled and he
was very strong.  He thought things through and he was sure of what he
believed.  I won’t speak for everyone else, so let’s say that I was more
finding my way, testing ideas.  I also loved to argue.  So there were
clashes.  In part, that was some of the energy that fueled the band.  People
have asked me how I played so hard and fast; I say that otherwise I’d have
to slug Ian in the back of the head or something—which would have ended
badly for me.  Instead, I picked on Brian!

Do you regret the ‘straight-edge’ ghetto label attached to you?

Hey, we played the fucking song—a bit late for regrets.  Actually, I
think that we’ve transcended it a little bit with each passing year.  Also,
some of what has fueled continuing interest in the band has been the support
of musicians who have nothing to do with straight edge—like Moby or Eddie
Vedder or Kid Rock or Good Charlotte.  Straight Edge, in its pure form is a
great idea.  Like everything else, it gets stretched and modified and even
perverted.  But it’s still as good a way to live as any and better than
some.

Ian MacKaye disbanded Minor Threat because he was afraid of becoming ‘alternative stars’ ... did that seem hypocritical at the time?

Ahem.  Ok, a lot has been said and written about the breakup of the band.
Also, a lot has not been said or written.  My recollection of the events of
1983 are apparently different than that of some others.  A lot of what is
accepted as the ‘truth’ now is based solely on what was said then in the
heat of the moment.  Ian disbanded us (following in Jimmy Pursey’s
footsteps)?  Maybe. Jeff disbanded us because he wanted to play different
music?  Maybe.  Brian and I disbanded us because the other guys ran the
record label that put out our records and we worked day jobs?  Maybe.  Maybe
all of it’s true.  “Hypocritical?” Well, I suppose it may seem so now, but
I think that assuming this WAS Ian’s motivation, it was as pure and
well-intentioned as it could be under the circumstances.

The Ramones were constantly being mentioned as heroes to Minor Threat in online biographies ... did you see the recent Ramones documentary and do you
feel that after seeing it that disbanding Minor Threat left the band with a perfect legacy?

I would hesitate to call the Ramones “heroes” to us.  I personally am a
bigger fan now than I was then.  I can’t speak for the the rest of the guys,
but I don’t remember listening to a lot of Ramones.  That’s probably because
we were always playing Van Halen and AC/DC.  I did see the documentary.
There is no question that if you go out leaving people wanting more you help
create a mystique.  Is the legacy “perfect?” I don’t know.  Of course you
always wonder what it would have been like to play in other countries, etc.
Brian and Ian have gone on to bigger things—I wouldn’t have turned it
down.  But I’m happy with how it worked out.

Are you surprised by the impact of Minor Threat?

Yes.  I mean, I thought we were pretty good, and people seemed to be
genuinely affected by the music, but I never would have predicted how far it
has gone.  I really am flattered by it.

You played in Samhain after Danzig left the Misfits.  Was Glenn Danzig evil? Or always evoking evil?

We were standing in line in a store once and, apropos of nothing he says to
me: “Don’t you just want to kill people?” So, you be the judge.  All I know
is that the guitar parts he dubbed over mine on “Initium” are evil bad.

When you joined the Meatmen was that an intentional fuck you to the critics who placed Minor Threat on the high mantle of unfun with their worship of Minor Threat?

No, not at all.  That would be giving me way too much credit for a plan.  I
just became friends with Tesco and we started thinking about ways we could
have fun and get paid for it.  We created the myth that we were really big
and sold out clubs in NY and got a record deal.  We had a great time.  It
was all just pure silliness.  When I went to see “This is Spinal Tap,” I
said: “Hey we’re already doing this!” The Meatmen was a bit of a liberation
from MT, but they’re not connected in any real way.

You joined A and R with Caroline ... how did that happen?

The Meatmen were signed to the label and I moved to NY.  I bugged the
president for a job for a couple of years, and for my sins he gave me one.
But, I wasn’t really an A&R guy for very long.  Pretty quickly I moved into
a managerial position.  I wasn’t a committed street A&R rep.

Coming from a DIY background—how did you find the music business from the other end of spectrum?

It was so funny.  When I was ‘signed’ to the label with the Meatmen, we paid
zero attention to what they were doing.  Years later I found files on us
that had posters and stuff that I had never seen.  But at the time we just
assumed that it was our responsibility to promote ourselves and that the
label did nothing.  Once I started working with bands, I couldn’t believe
how dependent they were on us bunch of kids sitting in a smelly office with
terrible computers and phones.  They couldn’t be bothered to sell records at
their own shows; they didn’t make t-shirts so that they’d have some
non-recoupable money to buy lunch with; etc.  Also, there was so much
useless ego that got in the way of selling records.  It’s hard enough to
make it work without artists throwing fits about the smallest things.  No
offense, but some of the UK bands were unbelievable.  They would complain
about everything—they wouldn’t drive long distances, they didn’t want to
go to photo shoots or do interviews.  It was crazy.  Obviously it was my
chosen path, so I adapted.  But, I learned once again that if you don’t do
it yourself, it probably won’t get done.

What do you think of Steve Albini’s reference to you in his diatribe against the music industry?

Steve is a consummate journalist (trained at one of America’s finest
academic institutions), a champion self-promoter and an accomplished bomb
thrower.  I have tremendous respect for these and other of his talents.  He
used me because I was the best example on paper that he could come up with
-- I mean Al Smith from Atlantic?  Terry Tolkien from Elektra?  Problem is,
I was just a good example for a diatribe: my boss didn’t really know
anything about Minor Threat and knew all too well how unpopular the Meatmen
were, so he didn’t hire me for any of it.  Very few people at my own label
even knew I had been a musician at all.  I never talked about it with any
artists unless they asked—few ever did.  Most had no clue, since this was
in the period where MT had not yet penetrated into most people’s musical
consciousness (I was once told by a big time publicist that if it hadn’t
been for Sonic Youth there wouldn’t have been a Minor Threat!).  If I was
being used to lure unsuspecting artists to their financial ruin on the rocks
of that noted major label powerhouse Caroline, no one seems to have gotten
the memo.

How accurate is Albini’s essay ‘The Problem With Music’...?

Well, things have changed a lot for at least some people since he wrote the
piece, but I would say (and said in print around the time it came out) that
it was largely accurate, particularly in terms of how the recoupables pile
up and essentially make it impossible for artists to continue to create.  If
I recall correctly Steve does a little sleight of hand with the numbers when
he presents the artist’s figures as net and the label’s as gross.  This
trick makes it look like the labels are laughing all the way to the bank,
when in fact what was happening to labels like Caroline was that we were
hardly able to afford putting out new artists because of skyrocketing costs.
We were being murdered by the real major labels and the stranglehold they
had on radio airplay (meanwhile they were being slowly destroyed by the
promotion schemes they had devised themselves).  I almost got fired for the
amount I spent of our money on the first David Gray record (and got nothing
but abuse from some of his people).  But all that aside, I think that
Steve’s piece was important because it clearly laid out the financial issues
that faced the new artists being signed at the time.  I don’t know how
valuable is it today.  I’m just amazed that people still talk about it.

You were once mooted to be playing in Big Black ... what happened?

Just a rumor.  By the time Big Black came along I was back in MT.  Then
Steve fired me as a friend.  So no dice.  I think the rumor actually was
that I was going to play in the Effigies (from Chicago), but that never got
past the talking stage.  Either would have been a bad career move in
retrospect.  I did love Big Black though—and the Effigies.  Still have
one of the first t-shirts Steve made up.

You are now in the second year of Law School...what made you decide to leave the Music Industry?

Well, I decided to walk before they made me run.  Seriously though, the
American industry is about 60% of what it was in 1995—that includes
revenue and employees.  I know many 15 year veterans of labels that were
unceremoniously sacked in the last several years.  Everybody asks why this
happened.  Simple, really.  The market for entertainment has many new
players: DVD’s, video games (with original music in many cases).  The top
executives failed utterly to grasp the import of the internet and file
compression (’it’s convenience, not money, stupid’).  The industry convinced
itself that it was Hollywood (and spent like it) when it was more like
fiction book publishing.  So I found myself with fewer viable options than
ever before.  Also, I felt that it was increasingly doubtful that good music
could survive the American record industry (for some of the reasons outlined
by Mr. Albini).  I’m glad to be occasionally proven wrong, but believe that
in the main I’m correct.  And I’d pretty much done everything and now it was
all rote.  So off to a new adventure.  Actually I follow in the footsteps of
at least 2 other punkers: Santiago Durango (Naked Raygun, Big Black) is a
lawyer and John Kezdy (Effigies) is the Assistant District Attorney in
Chicago and puts away the bad guys—tough SOB and a good man.

Any advice to aspiring young musicians eager to form their own punk band?

I won’t use that sports apparel company’s federally protected slogan.  Oh
wait, they seem to have no trouble using our federally protected expression.
So what the hell, here you go: just fucking do it.

What’s been on your turn table?

Being in the music industry profoundly changed the way I experience music.
I used to have to buy records, so I’d buy something and listen to it to
death.  Now, since I still get most of my stuff for free (wife in the
industry), and since I have no attention span, I listen to tons of stuff
once or twice.  And then, since I’m an old fart I go back and listen to old
fart music.  So, here’s a slice:

Kate Bush “Arial”, System of a Down, “Mezmerize/Hynotize”, Led Zeppelin “DVD”, Parliament “Best of...”,Morningwood “Morningwood”

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