AP Writer Nick Cox caught up with Rhett Miller of the Old 97s after their show at The Sinclair on March 11th – check out the conversation, and read the review here.

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Of all the songs you could’ve chosen as your theme music, why “Cecilia Ann”?

RM: We don’t just do that in Boston—it’s not just a suck-up to the Boston crowd.

Do you do that in all of your shows?

RM: That is our walk-on music. We’re all huge Pixies fans. In fact, I played in Los Angeles the other night and Joey Santiago got up and did “Wave of Mutilation” with me, playing a nylon-string guitar. It was so beautiful.

That does sound beautiful.

RM: But “Cecilia Ann” is our walk-on music because it’s wordless, which is important—we don’t want people thinking about someone else’s lyrics. But it’s also such a rockin’, powerful song, and it says to the audience, “Shit’s about to go down, man!”

You probably like the Pixies more than almost any ostensible country singer.

RM: Yeah, that’s probably true.

Are they part of your musical DNA?

RM: Yeah. I came to country late. Growing up in Texas, it was hard to like country without being, you know, a redneck. I was against it, until I got older and Murray [Hammond, Old 97’s bassist and co-founder] turned me on to Hank Williams and Willie Nelson. I did grow up liking Buddy Holly, but I saw Buddy Holly as being more like a proto-punk, almost. Country was a late addition to my acceptable music list.

Interesting. What did you start on?

RM: My number one of all time is Bowie. I’m a HUGE Bowie guy. I’m reviewing [David Bowie’s new album] for Salon.com tomorrow morning at 11am—like, some live twitter-based review of me and Lloyd Cole reviewing David Bowie. Very random. I swear to God, the last three days, every other email is from Peter Buck or Lloyd Cole or Robyn Hitchcock. My 1987 self would be freaking out.

Well, that’s how life is, right? The younger version of myself would be like, “Oh my God!” Mitch Hedberg said “I wish I could go back and do Little League—I’d be so good now.”

RM: I remember that routine. I loved him—so sad that he died.

I know. Drugs, man. But anyway, you came to country late. I had no idea, that’s fascinating. So something just sort of clicked for you?

RM: Well, I saw the way it related to folk music. I did like folk music, like Kingston Trio, early Bob Dylan.

Right—EARLY Bob Dylan, like pre-leather-jacket Bob Dylan.

RM: Yeah. I mean, obviously I love that [later Dylan] stuff too, but growing up I knew the early stuff best. Also the Seekers—really square, white-bread kinds of bands.

Right—with the tuxedos and the big glasses.

RM: Exactly. Growing up, that was what I knew best. But then I got more into Bowie and the Kinks, and then I got into Robyn Hitchcock, a lot of British stuff, and later I realized how much it borrowed from early American roots music. And I went back and realized that it wasn’t all about hat acts and Nashville, it was about real songwriters, like Willie Nelson.

It was about rock ‘n’ roll!

RM: Yeah, it was like the earliest rock ‘n’ roll.

That’s interesting. I’ve been listening to your stuff all day, and what I’ve been thinking is that what you really are is a rock ‘n’ roll band, not a country band.

RM: It’s true. And when people say “What are you?” I’m like, “Dude, what is Tom Petty? What are the Beatles?” I mean, these are just rock bands. We’re a rock band. You could point to different influences but none of them define us—the Clash are equal to Johnny Cash. That was the idea when we first started the band, it was “Johnny Cash meets the Clash.”

I think you’ve pulled it off.

RM: Thanks, man.

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