This past January, influential and beloved punk band Erase Errata returned after an extended break to release Lost Weekend, their first full-length in 8 years. While less active than they were in the early 2000s, the band would occasionally play a handful of shows every year, and a new record hinted at more to come. The album was a welcome return to form that found the band tapping into the frenetic energy that defined their sound, while also expanding the experimental notions they always delved into. That excitement was short lived, however, as two months ago the band released an official statement that they were deciding to end the band with a pair of farewell shows taking place this upcoming weekend in Austin and Houston. After 16 years as a band, the trio comprising of Jenny Hoyston, Bianca Sparta, and Ellie Erickson felt like now was the time to say goodbye. Speaking over the phone, Hoyston went in depth as to the reasons why they decided to end the band now, how the politically charged punk she wrote with the band has changed over the life of the band, and why she feels Erase Errata had its place in time that is no more.
Pitchfork: What led to the decision to end the band now?
Jenny Hoyston: It was such a practical decision where we realized that logistically we weren’t able to be available anymore and then making a public announcement and "Hey quit calling us to play festivals because literally we can’t make it happen anymore." It’s as simple as that. It’s definitely very amicable. We’re all still like sisters. We thought we would make a public announcement and do a last couple of shows for us so we can all revisit our catalog. We’re going to play stuff from all four records and eight 7''s at both of the two shows we’re playing in Austin and Houston so that we get to say goodbye to all the music. Bianca, the drummer, has a family and is moving up to Portland. Ellie just graduated with her MBA from Berkeley. She’s thinking about what her next steps are going to be but they’ll probably be a big deal, like managing a big non-profit somewhere, ideally. For me, I’m back here in Texas and I have a job and lots of other projects going on. Everybody’s just staying busy, spreading out, and doing other things, and we realized we couldn’t logistically make it work to get together anymore like we used to be able to.
It used to be somebody could call us to play a festival in Sweden and we could all work our schedules around to get together and play a show, but now, between family, work, and all the other obligations that come around when you’re in your forties, it’s not happening anymore. Our band is from a different time. Even though we all still love making music and we’ll all continue that music in various incarnations, Erase Errata just has this place in time and it doesn’t feel like from this time in a way. We’re not really a part of this Internet age and even putting the band on Facebook this year was odd for us. It was a rude awakening that we don’t really like doing this stuff that bands need to do these days. We even tried doing an Instagram account and hated it. We’re not really into doing the stuff that bands that want to stay active need to do in this day and age. It’s not really up our alley anymore. We used to love going on tour and playing punk squats all over the world and doing stuff like that, but that’s not where it’s at anymore.
Pitchfork: Lost Weekend was recorded a couple years ago but released at the beginning of 2015. When you were going through the process of releasing it and the album cycle, did you think of it as a farewell record?
JH: Yeah, we were. We were already kind of wrapping it up. That was another special circumstance, that we even got to make that record. It was a thing where a festival had offered us a fly-in gig, and then we happened to know our great friend, engineer and producer Luke Tweedy, who lived in Iowa City, where Mission Creek Music Festival was happening. It was an opportunity that just came out of the blue. We were all going to be somewhere and could do three days in a studio. We’d recorded with him before, he’s done some of my solo stuff, and he recorded a Peaking Lights record, which was one of my favorite records of the past couple of years. We decided we’d just stay an extra couple of days. We were friends with all of them so we did some bonfires, parties, rode motorcycles and all that stuff in between recordings and we’d spend the days in studios. We were a little surprised that the opportunity came to do the final record because it had already gotten to a bit of a point where everyone was going different directions in their life. When we did get to do it, we couldn’t imagine how this scenario would arise again where we could be in the same place for the time. We played a show and had maybe three days to crank out the record. I’m really proud of it. I don’t think it sounds as rushed as it actually was in making, but we were able to write all the songs and get them recorded in three days.
Pitchfork: How did you decide to build these last two shows around Stargayzer Fest in Austin and Houston?
JH: It’s something we had been talking about since the record came out that we wanted to do a string of shows. We got offered some dates with Deerhoof, who are our good friends, and wanted to do that but couldn’t make it work. We got offered East Coast, West Coast, all of these little strings of shows that we logistically couldn’t make work. I have my band in Houston, Vacation Eyes, so I got all the gear in Texas. I have practice space in Texas, so when a Texas opportunity came up where they could fly in the other girls, we had to jump on this. It was now or never to get to play our last shows and actually get to hear our old songs again. We kind of made it work, luckily. We’re a six piece for these shows. It all came together mostly because I’m based here. I know enough people where I’ve got places for everyone to stay and logistically it became easier to do it here where I’m living. I spent the last three years in Houston and I’ve been in Austin for only a few months but luckily I know a fair amount of people here already. Also, we were able to because of Stargayzer. We’ve been working with Christina Files for the last two records and a 7''. She’s our synth player, and she lives in New York. We had also been playing around a little bit with a saxophonist, Mlee Marie, who plays in Hearts of Animals in Houston. Because of Stargayzer, we’ve been able to fly in our other people who we’ve all been working with for the last few years. We didn’t want to do it if it was a situation where only the three of us could play because we’re dependent on Christina and these other people to make it crazier and more fun.
Pitchfork: Following up on Erase Errata having its time and not wanting to deal with the Internet, what would you say on how music has changed and how Erase Errata is still relevant of the music of today but not necessarily of this time?
JH: I think the music is relevant and if people are into the music, they’re going to be into it regardless of when it comes from. I think it’s more of the climate for bands these days. I put on a music festival in Yosemite every year, and so I work with a lot of younger bands, and I see what they are going through, especially along the lines of social media. They are working with zero tour support anymore because people aren’t really purchasing music anymore, which is fine. It’s just the new way it is. I feel like they’re on the road nonstop or if they aren’t, then their band faces immediate extinction. It’s just a strange situation. Attention spans are so fleeting. Even my own attention span is so fleeting with this new modern gratification of music age. I get why they have to do what they have to do, and I think we just aren’t willing to go there and do that. Everyone has other things they’d like to do. For me, I would rather be in my practice space or playing a local show, or recording at home than being on the Internet and keeping up with our Instagram. I see the kids spending so much time on that and not that much time on other stuff. What if you actually got to practice five days a week and got to write more new songs and really craft your sound? I feel like even the musicians are very distracted from what they want to be doing because of the age they’re working in. For me, I would rather, these days, work my job and then get to go spend time composing, writing, jamming, playing local shows than doing all the other stuff you need to do to remain on the national stage at this point.
Pitchfork: Erase Errata was always outspoken politically, even on the new record with "Don’t Sit/Lie". Do you think there’s a lack of that more politically charged punk in the past few years or is it there in different forms?
JH: I see a lot of young kids doing really great throwbacks to that old crusty, punk stuff I liked when I was young. I think it’s still going on. In Houston we’ve got Walter's throwing 18 and up shows, and at some venues you can find that stuff. I think in general people have morphed the punk sound with a more mainstream, clubby attitude and definitely the message—if people are feeling political, the message is kind of diluted. These days, it’s hard for people to say things. I noticed that some of the bands I’ve listened to locally and even had play at my festival, they have messages, but they’re more masked. They’re not as obvious if you are being political. I think people are afraid these days. Critique is so widespread and people are afraid of saying the wrong thing. I think some things are okay to be angry about one day and then something comes out that well actually, you’re not allowed to be angry about that. You’re exhibiting this or that behavior that’s not cool anymore. I think people are afraid to speak out the way that we felt comfortable.
Back in the day, I had no problem writing lyrics spelling out what I felt. I feel like the gated communities are being built up to keep people like me and my friends out. I feel like the homeless are being eaten alive. You didn’t really have to worry about all the implications and criticism, and to a certain extent, the political correctness of some of it. Back in the day, I wasn’t aware that it might have been a little bratty for a lower middle class white girl to go around complaining about class issues. Now I’m more aware of that situation. I have a lot of privilege and there are a lot of people who had it worse than me, and of course we’re all pawns of the very wealthy in our country for sure. It’s pretty much that way globally. Regardless, there are certain responsibilities that people feel obligated to take on where they don’t feel comfortable being the one to say certain things that maybe we’re all feeling. Maybe we shouldn’t be the ones to say it, and should leave it to other people to have voices and say things. It’s a different climate, and it’s a different world these days. Honestly, the kids just seem to have similar sentiments but they’re so deeply masked because they’re afraid of how it will be taken, and do they have a right to say certain things.
Pitchfork: Looking back at Erase Errata, being in a band isn’t about checking off a list of goals, and things change as you play together and moved on, but how do you feel about what you accomplished in your 16 years with Erase Errata and what do you want the legacy you leave behind to be?
JH: I’m so grateful, honestly, for the opportunities that we got to travel. I’m extremely grateful for the opportunities we got to record and distribute our things that we wrote in our crappy practice space that we shared with 12 other bands. I feel really privileged that we got to have that experience. I feel really grateful that we got to meet and play with some of the bands we did, because out of those situations other creative opportunities came. For example when we were touring with Sonic Youth and I got to write songs with Kim Gordon for our band Anxious Rats, that was a big point in my career with Erase Errata. It was a dream come true to be able to do creative things with some of my heroes. Definitely, some of the travel, as we got to go to Japan a couple of times, Australia, Europe many times, places where I never could have afforded to go. I’ve never been in a position where I’ve been able to do that kind of traveling. Sure, it was working while traveling. It was hard work, 8 hours driving in a van, then getting out, putting on a show, and trying to be energetic every night while sleeping on floors. It was also a great privilege, and we met great people. It allowed me to learn that there are great people in every place and when people generalize that Texas is full of assholes or Germany is full of assholes, it’s a lie. There are great people everywhere, and there are all kinds of exceptions to any generalizations, and it was a huge privilege for me to get to learn that. I’ve been writing songs since four years old. I’m a record collector. I’ve got over 2000 records. It’s so nice for me to have records that are me. That’s me on there. I did that with my best friends. As an audiophile, it’s really cool that I got to do that because it’s something that’s been a part of me for my whole life. I’m really grateful for the band, and definitely very grateful for my bandmates. Ellie and Bianca are my best friends, and they always will be, and it’s been a privilege. I feel really lucky.