Last year, New York pop savants They Might Be Giants celebrated 35 years as a band. Theirs has been a singular career defined by a tireless work ethic and a willingness to explore technological and musical trends while still staying undeniably themselves, as well as an awe-inspiring ability to write a funny, catchy song on just about any subject imaginable. Direct engagement with fans has always been paramount for TMBG. Nowadays, that might simply come with the territory of being in a band. But back when co-founders John Flansburgh and John Linnell were starting out in Brooklyn in the early ’80s, it felt almost rebellious.
“Social media didn’t exist when we started,” Flansburgh tells the Scene over the phone from a tour stop in Carrboro, N.C. “But rock culture existed. And it was a closed shop. There were a lot of superstar acts, major labels that didn’t want any interlopers. We had to find an audience and build up what we were doing from the ground up. And it made us resourceful.”
The earliest example of TMBG’s fan-interaction ethos came via the Dial-A-Song service, in which fans could get a sample of whatever Flansburgh and Linnell had been working on simply by calling a phone number. The answering machine that picked up calls would play demos and song sketches. For nearly as long as the internet has been around, the duo’s been using it to reach the band’s fan base, sending out updates via newsgroups as far back as 1992. They Might Be Giants has always had one of the most comprehensive official websites of any band, and they were the first group with major-label exposure to release an album exclusively as MP3s. (Long Tall Weekend, released in 1999, was sold online through eMusic after the end of the band’s deal with Elektra.) More recently, TMBG has been making podcasts — more or less regularly since 2005, the early days of the format.
No matter your age, you’re bound to pick up a lot of knowledge listening to a TMBG album. “James K. Polk,” their 1996 homage to the underrated president from Tennessee, and 1992’s “Why Does the Sun Shine?,” which answers the titular question in great scientific detail, stand out as two enduring examples. In 2002, Flansburgh and Linnell tried their hand at a full-on children’s album — the brilliantly titled No! — and it went over so well that they’ve spent most years since then splitting their output between “kid” and “adult” albums, shrewdly picking up a new generation of fans in the process. (A notice on the tour page of the band’s site reads: “Please don’t try bringing kids to bars — not because it’s illegal, not appropriate and often not safe — but because you won’t be let in! No kidding, and no exceptions. Get a sitter, please. THANKS!”)
Since 2013, “adult” TMBG has been back with a vengeance, issuing four new full-lengths in as many years.
“I am aware of the band Guided by Voices,” Flansburgh says with a laugh, “And I know how manic they seem from a distance. But John and I … we collaborate very actively, challenge each other to do more work. … Our output’s a very workable thing that we’re doing. On paper it’s just crazy, to be as prolific as we are, as many years deep into it as we are. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t trickier as you go along. But we’ve figured out ways to up the ante on ourselves.”
Was the dystopian tone of the group’s latest, the newly released I Like Fun, a by-product of writing and recording the whole album in 2017?
“Yeah, pretty much,” says Flansburgh. “It wasn’t conscious, but it’s probably a pretty direct reflection of how confounding the moment we’re living in is. We don’t do topical songs, we don’t think of ourselves as being in the culture in that way. … It’s not our scene. But we do live in the world, and things that happen certainly affect us in basic ways.”
Coupled with I Like Fun’s release comes the resurrection of Dial-A-Song — the band plans to put up a new song each Wednesday. Calling the hotline isn’t the only way to hear the new material these days — songs will also appear on the band’s website, YouTube, iTunes and even a small network of radio stations. But the project remains fundamentally the same as it’s always been, a clearinghouse for Flansburgh and Linnell’s inexhaustible wellspring of ideas, and a way of keeping the lines open between band and fans.
“New songs, new arrangements, new musical ideas are the things that keep everything going,” Flansburgh says. “Our audience has arrived at our music through so many different avenues, it’s interesting. … And to be perfectly honest, we still want to be discovered. There are a lot of people who don’t know what we do. We’re not part of any mainstream culture [or] corporation, so getting the word out is still important. Posting a new song every week — it’s a nice way to keep it alive.”