Alex Felsinger

Flying the coop?

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GREEN CITY From inside the trailer-size office at Sunrise Farms, one can hear the incessant squawking of 160,000 chickens housed nearby. The Petaluma-based egg producer generates the vast majority of eggs sold in the Bay Area with its seven properties and 1 million hens, one of two large egg operations in a region that used to have thousands of smaller chicken farms.

On one wall of the office a framed aerial black-and-white photograph shows the same property as it appeared more than 70 years ago. The layout of buildings hasn’t changed much over time, still retaining the long, thin structures aligned side-by-side. But in the photograph, little white specks populate the space between buildings — they’re chickens, and all 10,000 were free to wander. Today the birds are kept indoors and, to save space and increase production, are typically confined in small cages. These "battery" cages are stacked in rows four cages high, allowing each bird 67 square inches of room — about the size of a large shoebox.

Although the egg industry says the cage systems are science-based and humane, animal welfare activists say they are cruel and restrict natural behaviors. In November, voters will decide whether to ban the cages in California, thanks to a six-month signature-gathering effort sponsored by the Humane Society of the United States along with other animal welfare groups. As hundreds of veterinarians, businesses, farmers, and politicians — including Assembly member Mark Leno and state senator Carole Migden — continue to endorse the measure, the California egg industry is rallying farmers from across the country against it. If voters approve the law, California’s egg farmers would be required to move the state’s 19 million caged birds into cage-free facilities by 2015.

Since 2002, Florida, Arizona, Oregon, and Colorado have passed similar laws regarding the confinement of pregnant pigs and veal calves in crates — both included in the California measure — but California would be the first state to pass a law regarding the confinement of egg-laying hens. The pork and veal industries have begun voluntarily phasing out confinement practices nationally, and animal welfare groups hope for a similar response from the egg industry if the measure passes in California.

But some consumer groups and egg producers fear the cost of eggs could increase drastically as a result of the new laws. The industry is historically volatile, with prices rising and falling week to week due to disease outbreaks and fluctuating consumer demand. Recently, however, the industry has seen steady growth. The average American now buys around 260 eggs per year, an increase since the 1990s that has resulted in higher profits for the $3 billion-a-year industry.

Although the financial toll the measure would have on farmers and consumers is unclear, the Humane Society touts a study prepared for an industrywide meeting in 2006 as evidence that the cost to switch over to cage-free farming would be minimal. The report claims that the difference between constructing and operating a cage-free facility compared to a caged one amounts to less than one cent per egg. However, the work-up assumes land prices of $10,000 per acre — a fourth of the average land cost in Sonoma County. But even using the higher estimate, the difference is still only slightly more than a penny per egg.

Arnie Riebli, the managing owner of Sunrise Farms, says he disagrees with those figures and doesn’t understand how they were calculated. Indeed, he thinks the cost of cage-free production is closer to double that of caged production. Even so, he says that while initial costs are higher, he receives a higher profit margin on cage-free eggs because of their specialty pricing.

If required to raise only cage-free birds, Riebli says his business will lose its competitive edge to out-of-state producers. One-third of California’s eggs currently come from outside of the state, which means the delivery routes and trucks from the Midwest are established, which means flow could easily be increased. "Every other state is going to sit out there and ship more eggs in here," he says. "They’re not stopping it. They’re just moving it somewhere else."

Riebli’s says he is concerned with his hens’ welfare as much as ever, and has taken trips across the world to research the latest in hen-raising technology. But he stands by his methods. "I use myself as a judge to see what my animals will like," he says. "I go into the building just as I am. If I’m comfortable without a mask, without any protection, then the birds must be too."

The chickens closest to the office are considered cage-free. The 4,000 birds inside the building are fed an all-organic diet and, although quarters are still tight (slightly over a square foot is allotted for each), the birds can dust bathe, perch on posts, and spread their wings. Sunrise Farms reflects the entire industry, since only about 5 percent of its egg-laying hens are raised without cages. In most other buildings, birds are held in battery cages. Ten birds live in each four-foot metal cage.

The eggs are packed on site and distributed through NuCal Foods, the largest egg supplier in the western United States. NuCal also delivers eggs from Gemperle Enterprises, the company whose facility recently came under fire after animal rights activists released undercover footage of severe animal abuse at its farm. Although the farm now claims the video was staged, it showed heinous acts of cruelty, including stomping and throwing hens. More important, it showed the conditions of the hens living in battery cages. Many had excessive feather loss, abnormal growths, and infections.

Riebli says he wants to distance his farm from the cruel treatment shown in the video. Still, he admits that all laying hens are susceptible to cancers, infections, and feather loss, although not usually as severe as what was shown in the video. "There’s a disconnect to where people’s food comes from," Riebli says. "They think it comes from the back of the grocery store, but unfortunately it doesn’t. It has to come from somewhere."

The Riebli family has been in the Petaluma egg business for more than 100 years, and since 1960 his company has grown by joining with other egg producers. The farm survived the Depression, the bird-flu scare, many salmonella outbreaks, and even break-in attempts from animal rights activists. Now that iron bars guard the office windows, Riebli is no longer as worried about criminal attempts against his farm. His main concern these days is that the law, although aimed at protecting chickens, could put him out of business.

"Animals are not human," he says, furrowing his brow and raising his voice slightly. "They don’t have intellect. Chickens probably have brains the size of a pea."

Sara Shields, who holds a doctorate in animal behavior from the University of California, Davis, is among the most vocal American scientists to oppose the use of battery cages. She notes that in Europe, where battery cages were banned in 1999, she’d be considered moderate. She recently released an extensive study comparing the welfare of hens in battery cages to those in cage-free systems. "I would like to see us raise the bar for the treatment of animals," she says. "There’s a limit to how high that bar can be set in cages. I don’t think cages have the potential to be humane."

But most American agricultural scientists disagree and say both systems can be operated humanely, though they grant that poorly-run versions of either type can be disastrous. To prevent mismanagement, United Egg Producers, a lobbying group that represents 85 percent of the country’s egg farms, decided to develop standards for caged production in 1999. They sought out UC Davis poultry scientist Joy Mench to lead a team of scientists in creating these welfare guidelines.

By analyzing the disease, injury, mortality, and productivity rates of birds kept in different systems and spaces, the group developed criteria that the industry subsequently adopted. Among these standards is the 67-square-inch minimum space requirement for each hen. These measures mostly focus on disease and mortality control as well as egg-laying productivity, but have less concern for behavioral welfare.

Although caged birds in modern systems sometimes have lower disease rates than cage-free birds, Shields says the potential for humane treatment in cage-free systems is much higher. Most scientists agree that hens in battery cages cannot engage in many of their natural behaviors, including wing-flapping, nest-building, perching, dust-bathing, scratching, and preening. And although disease control in cage-free systems is more difficult, Shields says, cage-free flocks can be maintained healthfully and successfully.

But Riebli has had problems with one of his younger cage-free flocks at Sunrise Farms. They became startled and piled on top of each other earlier this month, he says, suffocating 20 percent of the birds.

But Shields says this is highly unusual, and points toward newer, aviary-style cage-free systems as a solution for producers who encounter the problem. These methods divide the birds into smaller flocks within the same building, and rely on multiple levels to allow birds to perch and nest. Another potential issue, she says, is the lack of a perfectly-bred hen for cage-free production. After years of breeding hens to produce well in battery cages, breeders only recently have begun breeding for traits that benefit cage-free production. "The bird needs to be suited to the environment, and the environment also needs to be more suited to the birds," she says.

An aviary system costs more to set up than an empty cage-free building, but Shields dismisses these costs. "If we keep racing to the bottom in the name of cheap food, the eventual cost is going to be put on the animals," Shields says. "At some point we have to balance economic costs with moral and ethical considerations."

Over the past two-and-a-half years, a group of 15 politicians, scientists, farmers, and ranchers banded together to do just that. The Pew Commission on Industrial Farm Animal Production released a report last month detailing many troubling issues with the country’s farm animal production. The group specifies that the California ballot measure is a great place to start.

More than 100 cows graze Bill Niman’s 1,000-acre Marin County ranch, but only a couple have ever successfully navigated down the cliffs from the pastures to the beaches. Niman’s home is less than a mile inland, and on clear days he can see across the bay to San Francisco and even Daly City. He founded Niman Ranch on this property in the early 1970s and quickly caused a stir by deciding not to feed antibiotics and hormones to his cows. At first his fellow ranchers didn’t take him seriously, but now nearly all beef producers feed their cattle hormone-free food. More than 30 years later, Niman is determined to use the credibility he has earned to help all farm animals gain better treatment.

Last year, at 63, he gave up his seat on Niman Ranch’s board of directors, effectively ending his involvement with the company he once ran. Now he volunteers with the Pew Commission on Industrial Farm Animal Production. "One of my missions in life is to change the way animals are treated and how food is produced in this country," he says.

As part of the commission’s research, Niman visited one of the nation’s largest caged production houses in Colorado. Despite the state-of-the-art automated system, Niman was not impressed. "It’s pretty hard to put a rosy picture of 1 million chickens living five birds to a cage with no room to move around or stretch their wings," he says. "If I ran the place, I’d have trouble sleeping at night."

Niman believes the public wants to see reform in the food production industry. He says that this measure, and any laws that improve animal welfare, will only expedite what would eventually come naturally due to consumer demand. "I’m not one to advocate more and more legisutf8g, but I also know what’s going on out there," he says. "Change is so critical — and coming — that the sooner that change can begin, and the more orderly and methodical that change can be, the better off everyone will be."

Niman is part of a food movement centered around the Bay Area that includes author and University of California, Berkeley professor Michael Pollan, who also has expressed support for the measure. "The treatment [of hens] is important for reasons for morality, ethics, and sustainability," Pollan tells the Guardian, adding another ulterior motive for changing how hens are kept: "Eggs from hens that live outdoors on grass are a excellent product, even more nutritious and tasty." *

PETA vs. Gore

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GREEN CITY Al Gore’s 2006 Oscar-winning documentary An Inconvenient Truth invigorated the global warming debate, and the environmental movement owes him a great deal of appreciation. After all, they don’t just give away the Nobel Peace Prize like samples of teriyaki chicken at Costco.

Yet some activists point to a gaping hole in Gore’s strategy to prevent climate change through lifestyle change: where’s the meat? For more than a year, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals has hassled Gore to set an example by not eating animal flesh, and more important, to use his group, the Alliance for Climate Protection, to explain that vegetarianism is an important tactic in the fight against global warming.

PETA has the facts to back up its case. In 2006, the United Nations released a 400-page report concluding that global greenhouse gas emissions — which include carbon dioxide, methane, and nitrogen dioxide, among others — from livestock production surpass emissions from all cars and trucks combined. That same year, the University of Chicago released a study saying that converting to an entirely plant-based diet lessens one’s own ecological footprint about 40 percent more than switching from an average American car to a Toyota Prius.

Of course, changing to a hybrid doesn’t prevent anyone from getting to where they want to go — which, for most people, includes the butcher shop.

Last March, PETA began its campaign with a polite invitation asking Gore to try meatless fried chicken. When it received no response, the campaign turned to tougher tactics. The animal advocacy group created a billboard depicting a chubby caricature of Gore munching on a drumstick, alongside the words "Too chicken to go vegetarian? Meat is the No. 1 cause of global warming." PETA has been buying space for the ad near the sites of Gore’s speaking engagements, and periodically sends letters asking him to address the issue.

Perhaps the issue strikes too close to home. Gore spent much of his childhood on his father’s cattle ranch in Carthage, Tenn. At his father’s memorial service in 1998, Gore remembered the ranch as a positive influence as a young boy. He explained how he learned to "clear three acres of heavily wooded forest with a double-bladed axe" and "deliver a newborn calf when its mother was having trouble."

Yet PETA notes that the clearing of forests has left 30 percent of the earth’s dry surface dedicated to livestock production, and that cattle farts and manure alone are responsible for more greenhouse emissions than cars.

According to the Alliance for Climate Protection, it’s not Gore’s responsibility to address the issue: "There are a lot of top 10 lists about personal behavior, about people monitoring their own involvement," said group spokesperson Brian Hardwick. "We recognize that there are many causes to climate change and causes of global warming. But we don’t think it’s our job to hone in on every detail."

Meat appears to be a glaring omission on the group’s Web site, which includes lengthy lists of ways people can help prevent global warming, including everything from keeping car tires full to changing incandescent light bulbs to energy-saving compact fluorescents. But the group doesn’t suggest anything drastic. They don’t ask people to stop driving; rather, they ask people to drive less by carpooling or walking. Neither do they ask people to stop using central heating at home; instead they ask people to remember to not run the heating when they’re gone.

Hardwick says this moderate approach is about building a movement, and indeed, they now claim 1.1 million supporters. "Our movement is designed to be inviting to people of all walks of life," he said. "Our emphasis in our campaign is that we want people to join together and demand solutions from our leaders."

PETA, which typically takes a vegan-or-nothing approach, has recognized the Alliance for Climate Protection’s strategy and isn’t asking the group to adopt an anti-meat stance. According to spokesperson Nicole Matthews, PETA would be content with a recommendation to eat less meat.

"If people reduce or eliminate their meat consumption, of course it would help reduce that household’s emissions — and certainly [help] the aggregate change as well," Hardwick admits. But, he was quick to add, "Eating less meat is good; changing laws is better."

Not for locals only

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The Botticellis stick to the coast like gulls. Until recently, they all lived a few blocks from the ocean in an Outer Richmond flat, but drummer Zach Ehrlich decided to move into a beachfront apartment so he could have easier access to the surf. Before moving, he used a telescope pointed out his window to check for waves at Ocean Beach, but he gave that up after realizing the overall creepiness of the set-up, and he never could get to the beach in time to catch the waves he saw from his window.

Earlier this month, the band performed at Aqua Surf Shop on Haight Street. Beside surfboards propped against the walls and surf videos playing in the background, the Botticellis delivered a short set, bundled in sweatshirts and jackets against a door open to the San Francisco night. Afterward two men from the small crowd approached lead vocalist Alexi Glickman and said, "Dude, your music totally made us wanna surf." To Glickman, this was the ultimate compliment.

Their very name originates in surf culture — a botticelli is a tightly wound wave distinctive to the Southern California coast — but don’t assume the group is just a Beach Boys rip-off. While the Botticellis borrow from those hitmakers as much as any jangly indie-pop band does, their lyrics never come close to those of blatantly beach-themed tunes. The Botticellis are classier than that.

Glickman and Ehrlich grew up together in the Los Angeles area, where they developed a shared enthusiasm for music and surfing. They both began training in the Suzuki violin method in kindergarten, and have performed in original rock bands since age eight: first as an instrumental duo called Powerstrike, a recording of which Glickman says "sounds like Sleater-Kinney before Sleater-Kinney."

Now, almost two decades later, the pair is climbing toward indie stardom with their friends and fellow surfers Burton Li, Ian Nanson, and Blythe Foster as the Botticellis. Their new album, Old Home Movies, will be officially released next month on Antenna Farm Records. Local fans have a chance to grab an advance copy at their release party April 18.

Although they’ve begun headlining at SF’s larger clubs, they say they still prefer the lower-key atmosphere of spots like Aqua Surf. For these performances, the outfit brings their own sound system and mixes the vocals high to their soft-pop liking. "Every venue that we go to, we try to explain," Glickman said. "Usually people are totally unreceptive and say ‘Fuck you! Don’t tell me how to do my job!’ — which is probably why we like doing these house shows and small shows because we don’t have to go through some fucking huge PA system." With the vocals mixed down and the bass and drums cranked up, they metamorphose from a detailed, modern evocation of a ’60s pop group into a blaring indie-rock combo.

The Botticellis made a conscious decision to refine their sound: two years ago, they were a rock band with a self-released, self-titled EP showcasing guitar-driven power-pop. The transformation didn’t come easily. Some songs have been reworked and rerecorded multiple times before making it onto Old Home Movies. Seven of the new disc’s 10 tracks were laid to tape at Tiny Telephone in SF, and from the start, their goal was to re-create the crackly feel of a vinyl LP. They even toyed with the idea of releasing the recording on cassette before a quick survey of friends found that none of their pals owned a tape player.

"We were listening to Big Star records and Big Star side-project records, like Chris Bell," said Glickman. "We tried to get that sort of chewy analog mid-fi feeling." To round out that sound, the Botticellis sought out Matt Cunitz of SF’s Vintage Keyboard Repair for unusual instruments: Mellotron, folding pump organ, Minimoog, bassoon, and toy piano can all be heard at some point in the recording, beneath the fuzzy, light guitars. While Blythe Foster does not perform live with the band — she usually puts her voice toward work as an actress in local theater — the addition of her winsome vocals alongside the three male singers is nothing short of captivating.

The resulting Old Home Movies fully realizes the Botticellis attempts to bring wonder to the simplicity of California pop. And with summer coming, now is their chance to shine. One listen to Old Home Movies transports the listener back to a time when the state was known for cheerful sounds that matched clear skies. Still, the Botticellis aren’t deluding themselves. San Franciscans know that California isn’t all sun and fun, and the group’s nostalgic, delicate numbers match the melancholy nature that a July day in the Bay often holds. *

THE BOTTICELLIS

With Papercuts and the Mantles

Fri/18, 9 p.m., $10

Cafe Du Nord

2170 Market, SF

www.cafedunord.com

Ditching the paper cup

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GREEN CITY Statistics show that Americans drink more than 400 million cups of coffee a day. While most buy the average Starbucks and Folgers blends, a growing number of consumers are beginning to care more about what’s in their cup and where it comes from.

I work part-time at Coffee to the People in the Haight, which specializes in high quality, Fair Trade products, and I often field questions from customers about the origin and certification of the shop’s java. But no one ever asks about the flush capacity of our toilets, or the environmental impact of our cleaning products, or whether all of our appliances meet Energy Star standards.

In the past, if they’d asked about such things, I would have told them that the toilet ran constantly, the petroleum-based dish soap we used probably killed fish in the Bay, and that the two refrigerators behind the counter had been around since before I was born.

It’s not that the owners never cared about having a greener business — they just couldn’t afford to pay attention. Stocking gourmet coffee and tea is costly, not to mention the astronomical rent and power bills they have to pay every month.

That’s where the Green Café Network comes in.

Environmental educator Kirstin Henninger founded the nonprofit collective a year ago to help its members achieve higher standards of environmental stewardship. So far, the network is composed of 10 cafés, including Coffee to the People. Owners meet periodically to discuss and share business strategies. Recently they went in together to purchase compostable to-go containers. They hope to do the same with eco-friendly cleaning supplies in the near future.

Henninger, 39, originally wanted to open a green coffee shop of her own. After surveying shop owners on their business practices, however, she saw a better way to make a difference. Many owners told her they had the desire to be more environmentally responsible, but not the know-how, staff, or money to put anything into action. So Henninger decided to do something to help them.

"Instead of me opening one more café, I realized a way I could have much more of an impact," she told the Guardian. "I saw potential to actually support a new movement toward a green economy, and that was much more possible by affecting multiple cafés instead of my one café."

Henninger said she chose to focus on neighborhood coffeehouses because they are often the center of close-knit communities. "By the process of cafés becoming green businesses, we aim to educate everyone in the mix," she said. "The owners, staff, customers, neighbors, other local businesses — this is a necessary part of the process of supporting a local, green economy." She also offers consulting to any business, coffee shop or not, that requests it.

Joining the group didn’t make Coffee to the People’s toilet stop running, but we are at least heading in the right direction. Henninger acknowledged that while customers notice changes in the products they pay for, other aspects of a green business go unappreciated. The ultimate goal for cafés in the group is to become certified green businesses (all Bay Area counties have a green business program). But the certification process can be misleading. Most localities only require that a business conform to five out of 20 guidelines, and once the placard is placed in the window, the motivation to complete the next 15 steps can tend to flag. Henninger hopes the members of her network, by working together and helping each other, will be as green as they can be.

"We need people striving to make the extra effort because it’s the right thing to do," she said. "I think that’s the challenge of the entire environmental movement."

Comments, ideas, and submissions for Green City, the Guardian‘s weekly environmental column, can be sent to news@sfbg.com.

Switchboard Music Festival

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PREVIEW While something like the Treasure Island Music Festival can be summarized in a nutshell — a day of indie rock and a day of electronica — the annual Switchboard Music Festival defies classification. Traditionally, a lack of stylistic consistency is frowned upon in the music world — some artists spend years searching for their own reliable sound — Switchboard organizers say times have changed. With file-sharing and iTunes inundating fans with music, composers have the opportunity to go wild. On a song-by-song basis, good music is good music, regardless of who produced it or what genre it is.

Like many of the acts throughout the day, San Francisco’s Aaron Novik seems to put his eggs in more baskets than the Easter Bunny. Novik is a self-described "clarinetist, composer, bandleader" who clearly has a propensity toward variety, as his projects span anywhere from psychedelic jazz to metal. At the festival, Novik will lead his traditional Jewish folk band the Yidiots, which includes Guardian editorial intern Dina Maccabee on violin.

Fellow musical butterfly Amy X Neuberg, the festival’s headliner, will demonstrate her wide range of musical manifestations. Oakland composer Neuberg’s performance centers on creative uses of her own voice, including some over-the-top opera, soft jazz tones, and spoken word — all looped in real time through a sequencer to create harmonies. Genres will bend and tear within her set and those of others, only to shatter with the first note of the following act.

SWITCHBOARD MUSIC FESTIVAL With Christopher Adler, Dan Becker, Del Sol String Quartet, Edmund Wells, Erik Jekabson, Gamelan X, Ian Dicke, Ian Dickenson, Inner Ear Brigade, Jonathan Russel, Robin Estrada, Ryan Brown, and Slydini. Sun/30, 2–10 p.m., $5–$25. Dance Mission Theater, 3316 24th St., SF. (415) 826-4441, www.switchboardmusic.com

Local Live: Pinhead Gunpowder

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LOCAL LIVE On the wall behind the stage at the 924 Gilman Street Project, someone has scrawled in green paint among the other graffiti, "Punk: Do It Yourself" — words that most of the volunteers, bands, and show-goers at 924 Gilman seem to live by. One longtime habitué, Billie Joe Armstrong, appeared to have abandoned the idea and the venue the day his band Green Day signed a record deal with Warner Bros. more than a dozen years ago. However, on Feb. 10, Armstrong was back on the Gilman stage for the first time in aeons in a rare appearance with his side project of 17 years, Pinhead Gunpowder.

The band sounds something like Insomniac-era Green Day, but they play at an even faster pace. And while Pinhead Gunpowder’s music reflected the sounds of so many other pop-punk bands that frequent the Gilman stage — La Plebe, Carnal Knowledge, and Zomo also performed that night — Armstrong stood out from the rest of the punk vocalists. His famously raucous showmanship transferred flawlessly from the arena to this smaller space. Here, without spotlights and pyrotechnics, his flair and drive to entertain became even more apparent.

At one point, someone in the crowd tossed a black fedora to Armstrong, who put it on his head, tilted it down over his face, and yelled, "Do I look like Michael Jackson?" Yet for the first time in years, he didn’t look like a star: the eyeliner and black suit–red tie combo of late were conspicuously missing. Dressed down in a striped shirt and sporting matted bleach-blond hair, he looked much like he did in 1994 when he stumbled on fame as a teenager. He was in his element, playing loud, fast punk.

Behind him sat Pinhead Gunpowder lyricist and drummer Aaron Cometbus, also well known for his longtime zine Cometbus. Cometbus’s lyrics and prose include tales of squatting in abandoned houses and dumpster diving, and since his stories continue to jibe with his lifestyle, he continues to be welcomed with open arms by the East Bay punk community. Nonetheless, Pinhead Gunpowder’s lyrics might as well be fiction when tumbling out of a millionaire rock star’s mouth. But this seemed to worry no one as the audience yelled along and cheered between songs.

Noise Pop: Heavy petting

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SFBG The song "Xavier Says," off the Magnetic Fields’ latest album, Distortion (Nonesuch), seems to describe a relationship between two not-terribly-happy and at least somewhat fucked-up people. I know you hate these questions, but is this based at all on personal experience?

STEPHIN MERRITT It’s certainly based on personal experience in that I spend a lot of time sitting around writing in sleazy gay bars with a lot of old men because that’s where they play the thumping, boring disco music that I find is best to write to. And so I hear this kind of conversation.

SFBG On the surface, "Nun’s Litany" seems to be about a nun thinking back on her life. Is there a deeper meaning or perhaps a social criticism to the song?

SM Someone pointed out that it could be the same protagonist as in "California Girls" — in fact, maybe the protagonist in "California Girls" is already a nun. I am not intending any social criticism in music. I think social criticism is best done in prose. If you want to do social criticism in rhyme, then you can’t be very serious — neither about the rhyme or the social criticism.

SFBG In a somewhat recent interview, you said that "serious music isn’t listened to in a casual setting." Now you seem to be playing more formal concert halls around the country instead of smaller venues or art galleries. Is this because of your growing fan base or because you prefer playing concert halls?

SM Well, we have more people who want to get in, so we can’t play in galleries. With our growing fan base, where we would be playing is not arenas but large, big, clunky venues. We’re keeping it down because of my hearing problem.

SFBG Are there any particular noises in a live music environment that bother your ear?

SM Well, that’s a leading question. Why, yes: applause. Applause is seemingly perfectly tuned to send my ear into lawn-mower mode.

SFBG Does feedback or distortion bother your ear?

SM Not as much — it seems to be pure tones. Actually, what bothers me most is high white noise. [Irving, Merritt’s Chihuahua, named after Irving Berlin, starts barking for the third time during the interview]

[Thirty seconds later] There, I killed the dog. [Laughter] n

THE MAGNETIC FIELDS

With Interstellar Radio Company

Feb. 28–29, 8 p.m., sold out

Herbst Theatre

War Memorial Veterans Bldg.

401 Van Ness, SF

www.ticketmaster.com

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