Photo by Tomonori IwataLast summer, Old Monk appeared on our radar with the song “Butter and Toast,” taken from their debut LP Birds of Belize. The album is out now digitally on Supermartyr Records with a physical self-release next month. We caught up with the band at the Bodega to learn more about the record, their recording process, and their love of Emerson, Lake and Palmer.
Old Monk’s earliest incarnation began when Joshua Carrafa and Ian Burns met at college in Colorado and played together in the band Nightmare Fighters. After school, Burns stayed in Colorado, while Carrafa moved to New York, but the two continued to swap songs across the distance.
“He tried to convince me for years and years to move to New York,” says Burns. “And then I finally did like two years ago.”
Years of trading tapes gave them a good jumping off point. “When we finally started playing together officially as Old Monk, we had a huge catalogue of songs,” says Josh.
What they didn’t have, however, was a bassist. Carrafa and Burns carried on as a duo, sometimes trying out bass players that either moved away or didn’t click.
“Whenever we played just the two of us, it was always just a temporary thing, looking for that bass player,” says Carrafa.
The pair recruited Tsugumi Takashi through a Craigslist ad in June.
“We had a show like a week away, and we were like, ‘Uh, we should probably have a bassist for this show,’”says Burns.
“She learned our song very quickly, we asked a lot of her in a short amount of time and she did a great job,” says Carrafa. “She learned our whole set in like five days.”
Takashi’s Bushwick home is sometimes the scene of makeshift rehearsals involving two acoustic guitars and djemebe.
Birds of Belize was recorded over two sessions at Park Slope’s Seaside Lounge. Financial constraints, however, dictated these sessions have a gap of some months between them. “When your family’s not rich and you don’t know Neko Case’s little brother or something you can’t just do that,” says Burns. “You have to wait awhile, get some money, go to the next step.”
Takashi had not yet joined the band for the first session, but was able to add in neglected bass lines and subtle backing vocals for the second one.
In many ways, Birds of Belize is very understated: The lo-fi aesthetic takes the focus off of individual parts, and sometimes muffles Carrafa’s vocals. You have to listen carefully to catch the myriad of obscure and literary references checked, from Cassius Clay to Mary Shelly to Scottish beer (“1200% alcohol, tastes like a tree,” says Burns of the namesake of album closer “Skullsplitter”).
Old Monk balance an unironic love for Yes, Emerson Lake and Palmer, and other prog rock with the fast and furious approach of post-punk. Carrafa’s truncated guitar noodlings squeak by quickly in intros or hide under verses. Most songs clock in at under three minutes — not a lot of room for indulgent soloing, but room for live variation.
“There’s a little bit of a song that opens up while we’re playing,” says Burns. “I mean, it’s a two-and-a-half minute pop song, and it doesn’t vary that much, but once we play it, it’s a little bit different each time.”
Old Monk are playing a show in honor of the digital release of Birds of Belize tonight at Cake Shop. Tickets are $7.






