Feature by Izel Villarba, find more of his work here. Photos by Henry Archer find more of his work here.
“It’s about generational racism,” Danny Gomez tells me and Solomon Bennett before taking a drag. We’re sharing a joint as he explains to us how he came up with the idea for “Oedipus Race”, the latest release from four piece rock group Native Sun – the band Gomez fronts. “You have this internal need to please your parents, so you take on their beliefs.” I’ve heard the song many times live but it never occurred to me until now to see the lyrics from a child’s perspective. We’re traversing the streets of Bushwick to a local watering hole for cheap drinks and a couple games of pool after a meeting with the rest of the band and crew about making a music video for the song. “Think about this young version of white supremacy that we’re seeing a resurgence of in the news. What’s the psychology behind that? How do we deal with a system that’s fractured? How do we start over? I think there’s a sort of cop-out optimism with the complacency being given towards white supremacy and the kind of racism that exists today. Things will stay the same if you don’t bring something fresh.”
The days leading up to a shoot are always a bit nerve wracking. You can only plan for so much to go right while the rest is up to in-the-moment decisions and a hell of a lot of instinctive trust. Luckily the crew members and band have all been friends for some time now. We’ve developed enough respect for each other as artists to know that whatever product we end up with is going to turn out alright at the very least. In hindsight, I think it turned out pretty damn sick.
The concept: shoot a music video at ACME, a prop rental company with a warehouse filled with every set designer’s wildest dreams. Items at our disposal include an IKEA’s worth of furniture, a selection of stuffed animal heads, trophies, telephones, giant versions of everyday objects such as pencils and head busts. You name it, ACME has it, along with a studio and train yard.
The players: Zach Eisen on camera, Solomon Bennett on second camera and editing, Rachel Cabitt and Natalie Leonard of Pond Magazine, producing and directing, and me as “video creative” — a role which had my hand in a little bit of everything. Some of my duties, for example, included handling thousands of dollars worth of lenses to swap with Zach on top of a train car or taking care of Solomon as I found him suffering from a stomach bug on the day we were supposed to edit.
Zach, Rachel, and I had previously worked on the first Native Sun video for “Palindrome”. The additions of Solomon and Natalie snuggly fit into the working relationship we already had with each other and the band, diversifying the creative directions this video was going to take. Natalie and Rachel, producing this project under Pond Creative, came in with a solid outline to work with and organize under. It kept us grounded and gave us a starting point to jump off of.
Alexis Castro and Mauricio Martinez
During the aforementioned meeting with Native Sun, we discuss what exactly we want out of the video and what to expect on the day of the shoot. Jake Pflum, guitarist, suggests something abrasive — something that captures the energy of their live shows. If you’ve been fortunate enough to go to a Native Sun show you’ll know exactly what he’s talking about. Onlookers often mistake their virulent music for the sound a struck match makes when it hits the contents of an oil drum. Alexis Castro, drummer, stays quiet for the majority of the meeting. At the end he comments “Just tell me what to do, I want to make it easy for you guys as much as possible… but make me look good.” I can tell both bassist Mauricio Martinez and Danny are excited by the possibilities provided by a full prop warehouse. One thing we all agree on is that we want this project to be something we could look back on for years to come; a piece of the band’s history as well as ours.
Solomon “Solo” Bennett
On the day of the shoot, the crew meets early for set up. Solomon and I black out the windows in the studio. Zach builds the camera. Rachel and Natalie set up the shot list and mood board on a couple of v-flats. I tap our friend Henry Archer to shoot behind the scenes for the day. His photos are the ones featured in this article. Another member of our little Brooklyn family, Henry’s eye for capturing special, fleeting moments is something this piece certainly needed. Native Sun eventually work their way into the studio and get into costume — vintage get ups reminiscent of off-stage Buddy Holly or Lee Morgan. Just before noon the boys and the crew are, for lack of a better colloquialism, ready to rock and roll.
STUDIO LIVE
Pond (Rachel Cabitt and Natalie Leonard) eyeing the monitor.
Me, slating.
Jake Pflum re-stringing his guitar.
The first live run through doesn’t exactly go to plan. We play the song off a speaker for the band to play along to, but Alexis can’t hear over his own drumming. If Alexis can’t drum properly to the song, the rest of the band can’t play off of him. We stop filming immediately and spend a solid ten minutes trying to connect to a bigger speaker, then multiple speakers. Frankly, we were stumped by a really dumb, technical problem. It occurs to me to recall just a couple nights prior. Solomon, Zach, and I had been bringing equipment into ACME when it started to torrential downpour. We opened the roll gate leading into the train yard and got stoned as we watched lightning pierce the night sky. Without a speaker, I had the thought of propping a megaphone next to one of our phones as it played Miles Davis’ “Blue in Green”.
So there was the answer, absurdly simple. You can’t see it in the shot but I’m hiding behind Native Sun’s gigantic amps while holding a megaphone in front of a speaker for maximum amplification, which Alexis can hear loud and clear. Roll scene.
PORTRAITS
“Hola, ¿Mama?”
Mauricio “Mo” Martinez free-styled conversations in Spanish with a stranger on the phone; his tongue, too quick for anyone to comprehend. He started calm then escalated to “¡NO! ¡NO! ¡NO!” and a series of yelling what I could only assume were profanities before slamming the phone down.
Alexis playing chess with a head bust was something I never realized I’ve always wanted to see. At certain points he’d speak to it, saying things like “bro you’re really going to move there?” and “I’m not going to do what I know you want me to do”. I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not.
Slow dolly in on Danny smoking a cigarette. Chalk it up as a true rock star shot for the always camera-ready Gomez. It’s widely accepted that smoking will make you cool (this article does not condone smoking) but in this scenario the cigarette ain’t shit without the person holding it. Coolness is so much a part of Danny’s genetic code that anything he does is considered as such.
Native Sun will never bring it up, but they’re all phenomenal actors. Their natural prowess for physical performance is a key reason behind the allure of their live set. Jake, especially, went full method as we barked directions at him to roll on the ground and “lose his mind”. He essentially does the same thing whenever he’s on stage soloing with his guitar, a bodily extension of his stark raving madness.
OUTDOOR B ROLL
Post-studio, we take a break for lunch and get ready for outside scenes. The plan is to shoot another live take at sunset, just around golden hour. While the band sets up on the train tracks, the crew meets to regroup, review, and strategize. “It’s looking really good!”, Natalie remarks. We all agree, the general feeling is optimistic. Zach, madman that he is, looks and IS exhausted. He hasn’t stopped moving since we started shooting that morning. To be honest, none of us have, but camera operation is a whole other beast. Thanks to Zach’s insistent hustle and perfectionism the video does look really good and it feels like the ideas we’d had bottled up in writing and words for so long are finally tangible. We order pizza for the refueling process.
To kill time until golden hour, we wanted to try out some ideas for filler shots and b roll for editing. Walking out into the trainyard we find, to our surprise, a massive train car filled with metal coiling that wasn’t there the last two weeks of shoot set up. Zach wanted to shoot a worklight-filled construction site in the evening but the shot was now obstructed by the train car and had to be scrapped. It’s like someone placed it there overnight just to fuck with our shoot.
Another idea we had was to shoot something fast paced in the “alcove” – a small sectioned off area of the yard that included three graffitied walls and 6 ft. tall weeds – quite literally an urban jungle. Shots included: group portraits, musical chairs, and Danny in the foreground lip syncing the song while the other three wrestled and fought behind him. Unfortunately the band didn’t dig any of these options.
With both scenes cut, we struggle to improvise how we can fill up time. The band and crew sit and discuss options but nothing really sticks. While the rest of us brainstorm, Solomon suddenly gets up and starts walking to the train car; eventually climbing the ladder and jumping in. I think out of all my friends, Solomon stands out as the embodiment of the phrase “better to ask for forgiveness than permission”. Watching Solomon sparks a curiosity in Danny who soon follows suit. As he peers in from the top of the ladder he shouts “Yo! Why don’t we shoot in here?”. Realizing there’s no yard supervisor present to prohibit us, we hop on.
Solo spotting Zach, making sure he doesn’t fall into a metal coil pit.
OUTSIDE LIVE
Finally sunset hits.
This scene was perhaps the smoothest part of the day. When Native Sun plays this time around the experience is the closest thing to watching their live show, minus the mosh pit. It’s dark, dangerous, radical, sexy rock music. I once saw these words describe the Stooges and feel Native Sun very much fit the mold. But here I’ll add “calculated”, contrasting the Stooges’ chaotic nature.
The ending of this set comes just as smoothly when, after the last take, we were finally approached by the yard supervisor who must’ve just started his late night shift. He tells us to move all the band equipment and clear the tracks, apparently a train was coming.
EVENING
As the rest of the daylight winds down we start to feel the weight of the day sink on us. We still need to get our train yard running shots out of the way before we pack up and move to shooting at a gas station; potentially taking us well beyond midnight. “I could use a beer”, Henry chimes in. The decision is unanimously accepted, we take another well deserved break before the final phase of the shoot.
Someone who’d been working in the ACME woodshop notices we’ve cleared out of the yard. He offers to build a fire for us with his scraps. Fire was literally the one thing we had prohibited on the shoot (I had an idea to shoot fireworks at the band members) for the sake of crew, band, and equipment safety. But at this point in the night everyone’s beat. We all agree that a cold beer next to a warm fire sounds pretty good and, now that it was available, cinematic.
One by one Alexis, Danny, Mauricio, and Jake take turns running up and down the tracks with Zach in close tow, flashlight taped to camera in the vein of Cops. The rest of us decompress and drink in the heat of the fire. Reassessing, we come to the conclusion that what we’ve shot already — in addition to running and fire footage — will be enough and the gas station sequence can be cut.
Between takes Zach gets silhouette shots with the flames. “This fire is so fucking metal, it’s almost too metal”, he detests. We don’t know if it will be in the video or not (it’s not), but the moment was a nice way to cap the shoot.
WRAP
All packed up and out of ACME, roughly half the crew and band part ways. It was a good day, but a long one. I’m ready to go home as well but Solomon and Danny convince me otherwise. We have a little impromptu wrap party at a similar, grungier watering hole down the street. Following a few alcohol and pool shots, Henry reminds us that it’s his one year anniversary since moving to New York. The first time he had met us was at a Native Sun show a summer ago — a Pond-sponsored group art show and concert that both he and I showed work at. It feels like something’s come full circle. Perhaps it’s the shoot or Henry’s New York experience. Maybe it can be both.
When reviewing the shoot, each person recounts a similar opinion that there were a ton of punches thrown at us but we rolled with every one. We’re happy with how everyone played their roles and understood each other. None of us know what the end product will look like, but we’re certain each of us tried our best to make it as great as possible with each player contributing one hundred percent of their energy. I think that alone is something to be proud of.
“I’ve figured out a way to describe our music. I call it Fuzz Americana.” Danny tells me after I inquire for more quotes for this article. We’re sitting at a table with Solomon, Rachel, and Natalie. Alexis is outside smoking and Henry’s left for home. “In the same way I feel like Parquet Courts could be considered Punk Americana, I would say we’re Fuzz Americana. Our music reflects the traditional American rock and roll struggle, but with a different subject matter than what’s been sung about in the past.” I’m writing this all down drunk; less so from the tequila, more so from the day. The bar’s somber, save for one light above the pool table. I look down at the squiggly handwriting in my notebook and pray I remember everything he’s told me.
“We’re a reflection of our environment. Our songs are like memories that could happen to anyone, but we tell them from our perspective as immigrants, children of immigrants, and Americans. We make music to try and understand the world around us and use sincerity as a means of survival.”
I think about the question Danny originally posed to me, about starting over and wiping the slate clean. I think about how Oedipus stabbed himself in the eyes. I think about the stupid song I had to listen to over and over again that day and how brilliant it is. Lastly, I think about how the video we’ve made for it isn’t going to convey the meaning of the lyrics at all, visually or symbolically speaking. But I don’t think it has to. I may have listened to “Oedipus Race” at least fifty times that day but I never once got tired of it. The churning riffs, the searing beat, Danny’s lyrics — all pummeled and ingrained into my brain like a blackout tattoo that gets better with thought and time. That’s the sort of re-listenable power the song holds and if our video can accompany or even elevate that energy, then I believe the song can act as the answer to its own question; as something “fresh”. It’ll get in your head and more importantly it’ll get you to think — like it did for me, as so many Native Sun songs often do — and I’ll argue that getting listeners and viewers to think about generational racism is an effective start towards ending it.
“Oedipus don’t make a mess, don’t give into no inferior race. I don’t know, what it’s like, when you don’t want to see or want to be free.”
You can watch the video for “Oedipus Race” below.
You can follow Native Sun on tour, Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.
Special thanks to ACME and BTL for supplying props and equipment.
