I swear to God, we thought we were a party band. As Throwing Muses, at age, oh, sixteen or seventeen, we were gleefully impressed with ourselves and our ability to bring joy to people through sound. We were then stunned and horrified to see audiences react with something like stunned horror.
So, this sound became our mission. Every note and word had to fascinate us. Every song had to be alive, like a great person... full of colors and sweat and memories and potential. We never expected anyone else to want to listen again and this was okay. I guess we figured we'd get the internal right and the external world would either fall into place or disappear. It kind of did both.
We became somewhat suspicious of our fans, though,, Why are you here? we would ask people who came to our shows. Maybe they were just falling into place.
It has been suggested that I was insane during the Muses early days, something I have vehemently denied in my effort to prove that this stuff could come out of our girlfriends, our sisters, and our mothers. Listening now, I wonder if I was all there, but maybe that was the point. Our girlfriends, sisters and mothers have been known to go elsewhere at times, too.
The difference is that I had lovely, funny, talented musicians to go there with me. These Muses saved my life, quite literally, over and over again. They are full of colors and sweat and memories and potential; they are great people. I miss them.
Besides, the point was always to leave a big, fancy present on the table and tiptoe out of the room.
Kristin Hersh, 10 June 1998