In contrast to the many ’90s-era indie-rock acts currently monetizing their influence on the lucrative reunion-tour circuit, reigniting The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion requires more than simply relearning old favourites and letting audience nostalgia mask the vagaries of aging. Given their reputation as one of the most incendiary and provocative live bands of the past 20 years (not to mention the most stylishly attired), the retooled Blues Explosion must live up to a formidable standard of performance. After catching their scorching set July 17 at the Pitchfork Festival in Chicago, I’m happy to report that the JSBX brand is still in mighty good standing.

Following an extended six-year hiatus, Jon Spencer, Judah Bauer and Russell Simins are currently performing select dates in support of an ambitious reissue campaign that charts their evolution from the skronky garage-punks heard on Year One (a 38-track compilation of their circa-’91 recordings) to the sophisticated beat scientists of 1998’s Acme. On the phone from his New York City home, Spencer reacquaints us with the sights, sounds and, yes, the sweat of the Blues Explosion.

On the day of your Pitchfork Festival performance, it was 100 degrees out. Do you regret your decision to wear rubber pants?
No! I don’t know what the fuck is up with these squares today. I’m in a rock ’n’ roll band and I was there to play rock ’n’ roll. I didn’t go there to work on my tan or play hacky-sack. Jesus Christ, what’s this world coming to? Everybody gets so upset about me trying to look good! I’m getting to be an old man, but I’ve got a job, and I’m going to do it the best I can. Fuck these squares.

These reissues feature an insane amount of bonus material. For a band considered to be this raw, off-the-cuff entity, you really get an insight into how much work went into making your records.
Yeah. Lo-fi was kind of a hip thing [in early ’90s underground rock circles], and the Blues Explosion at times would get lumped in with that. I could understand it, but I think lo-fi sort of implies a laziness. In the same way [that] we’re incredibly hard-working about our presentation on the stage, I was equally as hard-working and deliberate about the presentation of the albums. These weren’t throwaway records — there was an incredible amount of hard work and thought put into these. We were a very busy band, a very prolific band…. I’m trying to be as complete as possible as a matter of record and also because I feel it’s important to make these reissues of value and of interest to people who are already familiar with the records and to people who are new to the band.



Was it difficult for you to revisit the past? Particularly around the time of 1996’s Now I Got Worry, you were taking a lot heat from critics for the way you reinterpreted the blues.
I think it got worse after that, it all went downhill! Like this fucking asshole Jim DeRogatis [the Chicago Sun-Times’ long-serving music critic, whose Pitchfork Festival review likened the Blues Explosion to a “blackface parody”] — he’s always had a chip on his shoulder against me and this band, and it continues to this day. If you don’t like the music, that’s fine, but this whole thing about racism is just bone-headed and wrong. America still has a long way to go; race is still a very touchy subject here. [The criticism] definitely got worse as the years went on, and it’s the same thing with what I wear onstage: I don’t understand what the fuck is up with these squares. I guess maybe I was kind of hoping we’d outlive some of these fuckers, but in the case of this dude in Chicago, some of them are still around.

Overall, would you say it’s easier or more difficult being in a band today compared to when you were making these records 15 years ago?
I definitely miss big recording advances, and the luxury of just being able to experiment and explore in the studio. And those days are gone — unless you’re selling hundreds of thousands of records, nobody’s going to front the money like they used to. I’ve always tried to do things as much as I can myself; I believe in independence and punk rock, for lack of a better term. I don’t really have much pity for the record industry — I think it’s corrupt and always has been. So it’s not like the Blues Explosion was ever waiting around; if we got anywhere, and if we achieved any popularity, it was through our own hard work and our own sweat. And it wasn’t because we wanted to play the Pitchfork festival and wore shorts because it was hot. We worked our fucking asses off. Yeah, I think things are different now, but my hunch is a lot of people who are crying about it and making a fuss are a bunch of lazy bastards.

Email Stuart Berman at sberman@eyeweekly.com  or Tweet @stuberman.