In 1992, a relatively intimate core community of musicians and artists from the Little Rock, Ark. area banded together to release a compilation called Towncraft. The soundtrack has ultimately come to define an era of the city’s musical history.

New York City filmmaker Richard Matson, a Little Rock native and friend to many of the Towncraft contributors and other musicians and artists at the time, has been returning home to document the Little Rock scene then and now. His upcoming documentary called Towncraft (click here for the trailer) is expected to premiere nationwide in February 2007.

His company, Matson Films, is a theatrical and DVD distributor of independent films, and released the award-winning It’s All Gone Pete Tong and The World’s Best Prom.

For his latest endeavor, Matson has conducted more than 70 interviews and shot 150 hours of footage, including live performances and interviews in his efforts to document the story of an industrious group of kids in one small American city who were “radically different from the community and the culture that surrounded them,” and who had to work to create their own culture and carve out an artistic niche for themselves.

Dry Ink’s Peter Jones recently sat down with Matson at his office in Manhattan to discuss the project.

Dry Ink: This film marks your personal return to filmmaking for the first time in a few years. How has the process changed for you? How do you compare the experience of making this film with past ones?

Richard Matson: It’s strange. I’ve been shooting small commercials for the past several years, so I’m not completely out of practice. But I’m definitely not a documentarian. All of the films I’ve made in the past and all of the ideas I have for new films are fiction. So that’s one difference which I hope won’t be too terribly obvious in the finished film. Another huge difference was that I haven’t shot my own movies since I was in college. The last six short films I made were all with a really brilliant cinematographer, not to mention lots of lights, crew people, producers, etcetera. Running around the country to make Towncraft with just me and a camera was tough. Normally, you take some comfort from your crew and the expertise of the people around you. I’m not a great video operator, cinematographer or sound guy. So it saps some of your confidence in what you’re doing and your concentration as a director.

DI: Your film tells the story of a relatively small but energetic community of artists and musicians from Little Rock, none of whom – though some might argue – have ever achieved the kind of national notoriety that might warrant a documentary feature. But is that, in fact, the point? What is it about their story that makes it universal? In what ways might other artists in similar communities relate?

RM: To me, there’s a few fascinating things about the scene described in Towncraft. First, Little Rock is not the place most would think has an extremely talented and thriving underground music scene. There’s a long history, that I learned about while making the film, of Arkansas trying to shape it’s own national image only to have something like the Central [High School desegregation] crisis come along and replace “The Land of Opportunity” with an image of an angry white mob. We’ve been pretty unlucky that way. Having lived outside of Arkansas for over a decade in several places, I can safely say that Bangin’ in Little Rock is the prominent image people have of the state. But the fact is that a really great music scene did develop and I think that happens all over America in small towns. The interesting part to me is that it’s kids in these towns giving themselves an identity. It’s completely up to them to create their scene and no one is watching them to see if they did it right. What they end up with then, is completely their own. That notion of creating and productivity really interests me with Towncraft.
It’s hard to think about how someone could be “different” or be part of a subculture in 2006, anywhere in the world. Everybody knows about everything. Most people pick a little bit of one thing and some of another and it’s hard for what results to be that iconoclastic. But the nascence of the Little Rock scene that’s described in Towncraft is in a group of kids who were different - who were radically different from the community and the culture that surrounded them. At the time, they were probably viewed by their parents and community as stereotypical nihilistic punk wastoids. But you have to think about what the “normal” kids were really doing: going to house parties, getting wasted, fighting each other and chasing the opposite sex.
For the most part, the kids in the music scene were being incredibly creative and productive. They were making the music, but they were also putting together album art, printing flyers, writing and distributing zines, booking shows, starting record labels and venues and stores, going on tour and experiencing new people from across the country. I think that that ability to make so many things happen for yourself at a young age has shaped many of these people’s art and their lives.

DI: You’ve spent the last six months shooting interviews and performances with over 90 people. Is it challenging to coax a coherent story line for the uninitiated audience from people who, for the most part, know each other intimately?

RM: Well, yeah, especially because they all know that everyone else will see what they’re saying. But, I think you’re right that few of the facts of what happened in Little Rock will matter much to outside audiences.

What’s hard is getting the interviewees to articulate some of those more universal themes we’ve talked about. It can be really difficult to reflect on your own life in those terms and I’m sure it takes some courage to reveal them on camera.

DI: How many hours footage will end up on the proverbial cutting room floor?

RM: At least 150. That’s pretty depressing. The good part is that we’ll be able to use a lot the footage on the Web site for the film.

DI: Did the stories and anecdotes that you heard vary to great degree depending on who was telling them?

RM: Not much during the filming, but they already are on the website. I’m almost as excited by the Web site as the movie itself. We’ve built this big timeline from 1986 onward with all these “events”: happenings, bands, people, shows, etcetera. We’ve already collected stories about each event from some people. When the site goes live, anybody will be able to write in and add their stories or pictures or videos. They can create new events and get in touch with people through arkansasrockers.com. I think it will be pretty fun.

DI: How do you personally feel about the quality of music being created in a town like Little Rock compared to other, more well-known scenes? And how, if at all, does living in Little Rock contribute to that difference?

RM: It’s tough. I’ve been around music scenes in Massachusetts, Chicago and New York that turned out really great music. I still listen to Little Rock music, some of the old stuff and whatever new stuff they’ll send me. Lots of people would disagree, but I really think there is a Little Rock sound. It’s something really subtle and I’m not sure where it’s hidden, but I think it’s there. But, I grew up around it and I know these people and I care about them. I think there’s probably something that happens in the music scenes of smaller towns where you have access to everything and everyone.

And, if you want to, it’s very easy to play a role yourself. Small town scenes are inclusive because they have to be. There’s not enough people to have a separate crusty punk scene, separate emo scene, etcetera. So, when you’re involved, I think it’s easier to feel like it’s yours, that you’re directly connected to the music and a real part of it. That makes it hard to compare to other scenes.

DI: Many small communities have underappreciated music scenes, but a lot of local bands suck in towns big and small. What causes this sucking and why does it persist? How is Little Rock any different?

RM: I don’t know. But does it really matter? If they consider it underappreciated, then they’re ascribing value to it. I like the idea that in our super-connected world you can roll in to a town and they think that their 97-style alt-country movement is innovative and fantastic. Or in Little Rock’s case that dragging a submarine from Turkey up the Mississippi and into the middle of a land-locked state just because it shares a name with the state university’s mascot makes some sort of sense. Are they being delusional? I’d like to think that in a world where everyone can access everything, these people are putting stakes in the ground to show what means something to them.

That said, I think the Little Rock music scene has proven itself on a larger stage several times over. Econochrist made an impact in the East Bay. Trusty was the only band on Dischord not from DC. The Towncraft record, Chino Horde and Five-0 were reviewed and played across the country. Ho-Hum, the Boondogs, Mulehead and Go Fast all flirted with major labels.
Max Recordings has re-established an Arkansas-centric label and if you combine them with File 13, Harlan Records, Thick Syrup and others, you have a huge body of work that’s out there on a national level.

But, to your point, that body of work doesn’t suck. It’s extremely strong and diverse. The real question I set out to answer was why this small town in the middle of nowhere has been able to create so much great music. Towncraft will detail all the theories, but, halfway through the editing, I’m pretty sure I won’t end up with a definitive answer.

DI: One of the themes I hear from people in the Little Rock community over and over is that the music scene is so more vibrant because not everyone is trying to “make it” in the business, they’re just playing because it’s what they love to do. What do the people who have left the scene for bigger ponds in LA or New York or Austin have to say about that?

RM: I think those guys feel pretty lucky to be where they are. I think their success is testament not only to their amazing talents but also to the confidence that involvement in a DIY scene can breed and the fact that Little Rock made enough of a musical mark nationally that these big acts paid attention to them. But I don’t think those guys would disagree with what you’ve heard. They’re having fun, touring and making money, but it’s a job, they miss their wives, etcetera. At their ages, I’m sure they wouldn’t be doing it if they didn’t still love playing music. It’s been interesting to hear about how the idea of “making it” has changed in the last 10 years. The Little Rock guys you’re talking about are in some of the biggest bands in the world. Apart from that level, it seems like musicians’ realization of the number of bands out there and the precarious realities of the democratization of the music industry have radically changed the idea of success.

DI:Are you planning a premiere party in Little Rock? And when will it be?

RM: Yea, in February. We’ll also have screenings in theaters with shows from local bands afterwards in nine other cities, Atlanta being one of them.

DI: How close is the movie to being finished? Is there a release date?

RM: We’re about halfway through the editing. The release will be in February.

DI: Will all the performers in the film be featured on the soundtrack?

RM: Just about. The double disk soundtrack has 40 songs from 40 bands.

Peter Jones is a writer, web designer, and aspiring banjo enthusiast living in abject poverty in Brooklyn, NY. Send hate mail to mr.peej@gmail.com.