Interview Tijger Salto

Luifabriek interview post-hardcore misfits Tijger Salto – “We rejoiced in the prospect of making music without that sense of ‘importance’”

September 10, 2014
by Jasper Willems

Tij•ger Sal•to

“A whaaaat…?”

 

Proper translation: Tiger Somersault

A cat doing something as ho-hum as a somersault would elicit thrills on the interwebs for the simple fact that it’s a friggin’ CAT. The largest cat on the planet no less, one of the fiercest carnivores of the animal kingdom. Suffice to say, the name Tijger Salto befits this Amsterdam-based trio as well as anything. Unruly and dangerous, they manage to pack this tense post-hardcore wallop by means of just vocals, bass, a wee bit of synth and drums. Yet Tijger Salto eschews the habitual Minor Threat-esque machismo, instead emitting the straight-jacketed dementia we’ve come to expect from bands like Brainiac or The Jesus Lizard. Simply put, Tijger Salto has become this really fun crackpot of a band.

I meet up with Benjamin van Gaalen (vocals) and Tim Mooij (skins) at De Arend, a benign and folksy tavern in the western quarter of Amsterdam. Mooij has an affinity for these hearty places. Last time we spoke was about three years ago, when he and Van Gaalen were still one half of noise-rock iconoclasts Stairs To Nowhere. We did what would be the band’s final interview at Café ‘t Stoplicht, another congenial pub preserving the bygone musk of tobacco, polaroids and lacquered timber. Right before the article was published, Stairs To Nowhere decided to call it quits. “There was nothing left to give in that band. We basically exhausted ourselves.”, Tim reflects.
Even when reading the piece in shoddy Google Translate-English, the reason why becomes quite apparent. Whether it’s setting piano’s on fire (and subsequently recording on them), dropping vocals with a Chinese shock collar (!) or capturing the wrecking of an entire studio on tape…Stairs To Nowhere was an all-out endeavor. Their shows had a punk sensibility to them, with Mooij frantically dismantling and re-assembling his drum kit, often mid-song. Yet at the same time, the band’s operation was undoubtedly methodical, contrived and ambitious.
Stairs To Nowhere made some waves trespassing the abandoned Vredenburg premises (all while capturing it on video) to set up and play in its hollowed-out shell. The local authorities weren’t too pleased. Thankfully, Tipper Gore inadvertently taught us that nothing sparks mass appeal more than controversy. Stairs To Nowhere seemed hellbent to capitalize on that notion by going by the extreme, whatever that ‘extreme’ might entail. Their music had a bohemian zest and zeal, yet at the same time they were a sophisticated and arty bunch of guys. Occasionally, they diverged into ostentatious humbug, and this arguably became the band’s most glaring foible. As a result, they were incredibly difficult to pigeonhole, which – in retrospect – made them such an exciting band to watch.
Even after their seemingly inevitable demise, I remained a Stairs To Nowhere fan to this day. Last January, Ben sent me a message out of the blue, announcing he and Tim were starting a new band. Needless to say, I was overjoyed and intrigued. While adapting some of the Stairs’ unruliness (Tim’s distinctive refractory drum form, obviously, being the ubiquitous factor), Tijger Salto is an entirely different animal.
“Everything in Stairs To Nowhere was so ‘important’”, Tim quips, deliberately uttering the last word in condescending manner. “I realized I still had something left in the tank. We rejoiced in the prospect of making music without that sense of ‘importance’, right Ben?”
Ben simply nods.
“Other than unleashing a bucketload of energy…”, Tim inquires. “…what’s the point of playing punk rock anyway?”
“Nothing, I guess,”, Ben answers. “You cannot be about-face in doing so, anyway.”
“Make no mistake, we had a complete blast with Stairs.”, he continues. “Both Tim and myself were entirely different individuals at the time. We had completely different ambitions. It was quite liberating to just leave all of that behind us. We took that into account when we started Tijger Salto. Our maxim is basically: ‘Alright, shoot! Let’s just DO it…regardless!’ We simply want to steer clear from any quarreling regarding the musical direction of this band. I mean, it’s great to be part of some conjoined MO. But once you skip the part where you tediously debate the music’s direction and just let it happen anyway – regardless whether you like it or not – something better could come up the next time around.” Ben explains that Tijger Salto nurtures a sequencing of ideas, all of them addressed emphatically with a Pavlovian “yes!” “Whenever we find out a song doesn’t work live, we simply ditch it. We’re a pretty prolific band, so it’s no big deal anyway.”
Where Stairs To Nowhere applied these bizarre elaborate song titles, Tijger Salto skips that part entirely as well: the songs are simply numbered. The band is Ben’s first crack at being a lead vocalist and frontman. He enjoys immersing in that role head-on, acting out on stage, right down to screaming the track numbers as if calling plays from a playbook. “It’s fun. There’s something about screaming your lungs out, to end up completely exhausted on your back ignorant of the fact that you’re still only halfway through the set!”
After Stairs broke up, he and Tim still kept in touch regularly. Both stray towards their other artistic interests: Tim ventures into professional photography while Ben tries his hand in performing in plays. Tim: “Nowadays I work as a coordinator at a photo museum. I gave Ben a leg up, so now he works there as well. He even became my boss for a short period of time…but that couldn’t persist, as I wouldn’t allow it!”*laughs*
Ben tells Luifabriek he always toyed with the idea of fronting a heavy rock band. “Once we decided to make music together again, I told Tim I would love to do just that. In the meantime, I actually attended some singing lessons, although that might be a bit obsolete for this type of music. But it was obvious from the start we needed a third member.” After playing with different people for awhile, Tim and Ben stumbled upon Rob de Witte through mutual connections.
Ben: “During our first rehearsal he initially intended become our guitar player. Luckily I took my bass to the rehearsal space as well, just in case. So, we jammed for a bit. Then suddenly, he looked at my bass and acknowledged: ‘I’m really more of a bass player, you know.’ So he picked up my bass and proceeded to unleash this unbelievably heavy, loud bass sound.” Once De Witte joined in with the fracas, Tijger Salto quickly established their haphazard yet free-spirited songwriting approach.

Ever since starting the band, Tim feels he once again filled a creative void: “To me , I just needed that place again where I could completely unwind.” No question about it: Mooij appears to be more relaxed than three years ago. He seems to have found a nice balance between his professional craft, his marriage and having that place to fulfill some of his personal idiosyncrasies. A difference with three years ago: now he simply needs that outlet alone, not all the other baggage that comes along with playing in a band. “Tijger Salto is just a vehicle for me to keep myself occupied, to meet new people and to seek out new experiences.”

Read the rest of the article HEREuifabriek.com/2014/09/luifabriek-interview-post-hardcore-misfits-tijger-salto-rejoiced-prospect-making-music-without-sense-importance/.