Is the concept of an indie rock celebrity really that weird? Seriously. There are people out there who follow their favorite semi-pro bull-rider from ring to ring, accumulating autographs and fashion habits. Soap-opera actors unknown beyond the checkout aisle are stalked with astonishing regularity. Somewhere, you can pick up a dog-show magazine that includes a pullout centerfold of champion dachshund Baron Wolfgang Von Chocolat with diet and grooming secrets.
In spite of its earnestly anti-star origins and ethos, underground rock 'n' roll might as well be Bill Cosby when compared to something like, say, curling. It stands to reason that some pioneers, consistent innovators and longtime players would rise to iconic status within their chosen field. That's not such a strange idea, is it?
Burning Airlines guitarist/singer J. Robbins seems to think it is, at least as applied to him.
"I don't know where anybody gets that idea. It's pretty weird, I uh, no, I'm not conscious of that," he stammers, laughing. "I have no idea that it's the case. I really don't."
Whether the friendly, self-effacing Robbins chooses to recognize it or not is something of a moot point. To many, the musician/producer is a touchstone, one of the heavies, posthardcore's OG. Crediting him or his previous band, Jawbox, with single-handedly spawning an entire musical genre would be overstating the case, but Robbins certainly played a pivotal role in both the evolution of hardcore, and the impact of its offspring upon a wider variety of ears. And, like it or not, he's the guy that everybody keeps saying coined the term "emo-core," a word that got shortened while its meaning expanded to include just about everything in rock that sounds good but isn't on the radio. Yet.
Robbins, however, isn't one to see it like that — or at all, for that matter.
"My image of myself is of a profoundly lucky guy. I get to do a lot of cool things with my life. I'm immersed in the things that I love, and I'm just stoked," he says.
A little more than luck was involved. The guitarist's career thus far comprises an enviable balancing act between opportunity and integrity, and he's that rarest of old-school stalwarts — one who's produced work as consistently fresh as it is good, and is still doing so today. Robbins cut his teeth playing bass for seminal D.C. hardcore-scene standouts Government Issue. He then formed Jawbox, a group whose varied dynamics and rhythmic adventurousness helped redefine what could and could not be called punk. After a brace of full-lengths for fiercely independent D.C. label Dischord, and in the midst of the early '90s alt-rock explosion, Jawbox signed with Atlantic Records. The move polarized their fanbase but astounded pretty much everyone else by getting what they wanted out of the deal and continuing to release visceral, challenging tuneage.
Two albums later, Atlantic bailed. Following a marvelous collection of live tracks, B-sides and other rarities titled My Scrapbook of Fatal Accidents, Jawbox called it quits in 1997. Though he'd fallen into the fairly demanding habit of producing his friends' records, Robbins was by no means done with creating his own music. Jawbox guitarist Bill Barbot came along, switching over to bass, the duo recruited drummer Peter Moffett, and Burning Airlines released their debut disc, Mission: Control! in '99. The album was not a massive stylistic departure from Robbins' and Bardot's former outfit; according to Robbins, the group eschewed consciously setting itself apart from its past in favor of letting the new interpersonal dynamic dictate the difference.
"It was obvious to us, even though we have a lot in common sound-wise," he says. "We don't blame anybody for saying we sound something like Jawbox, I'm singing and playing guitar and that's a large part of it. The personalities and approach are different, especially Pete's approach, so it always seemed to me like it was going to be a pretty different band. I think we just wanted to get on with the songs."
Robbins attributes the most obvious sonic disparities between the groups to a very different writing process:
"In Jawbox, a lot of our sound was defined by the drums. Zach (Barocas) was a very idiosyncratic player, and would write drum parts in a way that was really unique. We were building a lot of our sound around that. Instead of the more traditional singer/songwriter thing, we were always jamming around the drums. Whereas in this band, it's more like a regular approach, where one or two of us will get together and write the skeleton of the song, and the whole band will flesh it out.
"There's still a collaborative aspect to it, but we never write around beats."
Burning Airlines' sophomore effort, this year's excellent Identikit, finds Mike Harbin replacing Barbot, and the trio continuing its tenuous tug-of-war between rhythmic experimentation and muscular melody. Identikit still recalls shades of Jawbox, though that outfit's organic, primal groove has been replaced by oft-shifting time signatures, deviant arrangements and an emphasis on ambitious riffage and Robbins' newly confident vocals. It's also much more lush and textured, which prompted the addition of utility guitarist/keyboardist Ben Pape for the live show.
"When we were making the record, we felt like we should just be gung-ho about it, and just play with textures, see how rich we could make it without ending up with something gratuitous," Robbins recalls. "We just wanted to flesh it out as best we could, and have fun with the production aspect of it. But when we got to the end of it, we realized that what we added was really integral to the songs."
It was this sort of attention to sonic detail that led Robbins to produce other bands. Originally, his friends asked him to come into the studio and "keep and ear out." His suggestions and contributions eventually found their way to other ears, snowballing into a second career that has him balancing the vitality of Burning Airlines with working on records by well-known underground acts like The Promise Ring, Hey Mercedes and even Florida's own late, lamented Discount.
"It's come out of those relationships, coming from an "extra ears' sort of way and then just getting more and more into the actual nuts and bolts of engineering," says Robbins. "Some of those records came out, and people got into them, and friends of friends of friends started calling. So it's been a pretty organic kind of thing, and I feel really lucky."
Robbins has handled these twin responsibilities laudably. It's gotten to the point where he's had to turn down work during times when he's focused on Burning Airlines. But production is an equally rewarding way to embrace his love of music. Which may or may not lead back to the question of his indie-rock celebrity. Does the guy who played in Government Issue and released stuff on Dischord shudder at the thought of recording major-label bands?
"My only aspiration is to work on good records," he says. "That's it. And what I mean by good is, to record bands that are focused, and care about how they sound, and have interesting ideas. I just want to work on records where, when I get to the end of the process, I want to hear the record."
And what if a band like, say, Bush came calling? His response is immediate.
"Sure. Hell yeah, why not? There are probably some bands that I would be totally unsuited to work with," Robbins says with a laugh, "but we're talking hypothetically here, it's not like it's ever gonna happen, so sure — tell Bush to give me a call."
This article appears in Nov 15-21, 2001.