Back Stage With Nick Rattigan Of Current Joys And Surf Curse

I spent last last weekend wandering the fields and stages of Kilby Block Party, what I would consider to be the best music festival in the United States.

What makes it so good? Many things. First, we are a publisher dedicated to underdogs and independents, so there’s no way a megacorporate fest like Coachella or Lolla was going to make this list. We’d much rather push a boutique festival that has their shit together, like Kilby. Second, and most crucially, the Kilby Block Party lineup has never not been absolutely fucking stellar.

Last year, Nick Rattigan played with his band, Surf Curse, and it was a high-water mark for that weekend. This year, Nick Rattigan played with Current Joys, and it was a high-water mark for that weekend.

Rattigan is what many would call a multi-instrumentalist, but I would call a musical fucking savant. Between two musical projects, Current Joys and Surf Curse, among several other endeavors and associations, Rattigan’s musical prowess has been honed and expressed. I, as an observer of generational trends and music broken down by ten and fifteen year chunks, believe that each generation is awarded a finite number of truly exceptional talents who put forth an extraordinary, quality, and sprawling catalog of music. People like Alex G, or Will Toledo, or Nick Rattigan. Any moron can pump out album after album, but only a few are able to consistently, poignantly, and refreshingly explore and communicate their feelings and experiences and perspectives, and between the catalogs of Surf Curse and Current Joys, I believe wholeheartedly that Rattigan is of those few.

Current Joys’ set at Kilby - where this interview took place - was exceptional, but the true event was at the Kilby Block Party after party, where Rattigan DJ’d a set so chaotic and unpredictable, it felt literally incredible. Literally spoken literally, as I question whether or not it took place or if it was simply a fever dream. Cramps to Genuine, The OC theme song as a closer, smoke filling the room, a never-ending loop of horror movie gore projected behind a tassled ten gallon hat clad Nick. What a time. I feel that this is important and pertinent in preparation for the interview and what I presume may be you, the reader’s first experience with Current Joys’ music because as he states, the recordings for Current Joys are on the mellow side, but Nick is not. Enjoy.

You played here last here with Surf Curse. Do you find that there is a big difference between gigs? Different crowds? Different vibes?

Totally, yeah. The Surf Curse crowd is kind of always lit. You always know what you’re gonna get. Current Joys, you never really know what you’re going to get. People don’t come to get lit, but I try to get them up there. The recordings are pretty tame but we usually bring a more punk energy to the live sets.

Is that intentional?

I think it’s just how we naturally do it, I don’t know. I don’t think it’s intentional, I feel like maybe we’re just very passionate performers, whereas when we record them, we just record them in a bedroom. We try to liven up the set. 

That’s a big thing I’m curious about, you have two very strong but very different musical entities that you’re kind of at the center of, Current Joys and Surf Curse. Do you find that the separation of the two or participation in both is freeing?

Current Joys has always been a very personal project where I can do whatever the fuck I want with it. In that way, Current Joys is almost more freedom, more liberating. Surf Curse is me and Jacob, so it’s way more collaborative. I have a buddy who always asks me about the difference between the two bands and it is Jacob. We write songs together, we go back like ten years. That’s been the separation of church and state. Sometimes I’ll write a song and be like, ‘this is good for Surf Curse, or Current Joys, specifically.’ 

Which one came first?

I’ve been doing Current Joys since I was sixteen, and I’m thirty one now. 

Nick Playing With Current joys at kilby block party.

nick finished playing with current joys at kilby block party.

Okay, so that one.

Yeah, we started Surf Curse when I was about nineteen. 

Both projects have achieved a level of success, do you find that it’s difficult or strange, better or worse, or that it is challenging to switch between those two levels of success?

What do you mean?

I was talking to Water From Your Eyes about how strange it is to switch between playing to one hundred thousand people and playing to a hundred people, and I’m sure that between gigs and in different places, some Current Joys shows are more packed out than a Surf Curse show, or vice versa.

I think that now more people know Surf Curse because of Freaks… it just became this like…

It went a bit viral, as much as I fucking hate that word.

Yeah, a little bit. I feel like I’m so removed from how many people actually listen to it because it’s just a thing on the internet. You really don’t know until you show up somewhere - show up in Spain and there’s a thousand people there to see you. You’re like, ‘oh, I guess the word did get out.’ It’s like throwing a party and you invite a bunch of people and you don’t know if anyone will show up, you just hope that people will come. Luckily the shows have been pretty consistently growing over the last ten years. But every now and then, we play a show and there is just nobody there.

Do you find that easier or more difficult than playing to a big crowd?

It is way more difficult to play to less people. 

Like personally? Or in your anxiety brain?

In my soul, in my soul, it is more difficult. Now that I’ve played to big crowds, you have more to work with. We were opening for Greta Van Fleet and playing stadiums to like sixteen or twenty thousand cap rooms, and that I really didn’t like because that’s a challenge, you’re trying to win over people. But if you’re at like a thousand cap room and you’re the headliner and it’s sold out, that’s the best. I do like playing smaller shows- well, I think what matters is if the room is full. If you play a thousand cap venue and a hundred people show up, that’s tough, but if you play a hundred cap room and a hundred people show up, that’s perfect. 

Without this sounding bad, how much of that do you think is in your mind? Like the visual aspect playing a difference?

Oh, yeah, for sure. I mean, I spent the early half of my career playing to no one but the sound guy. My first shows were just like, playing to my parents. My mind has been warped a little bit by playing sold out shows and seeing what it can be like. You play a really good show and you witness this transference of energy, and you see what it could be. It’s all about the energy in the room, it affects your performance. If the vibe is good, it really doesn’t matter how many people are in the room as long as everyone is feeding you what you’re giving them.

I like to ask this question and people usually give me a vague answer. 

I’ll try to give a good one.

How do you define a good show?

Oh, man. 

People always say, ‘good vibes, dawg!’

I’m kind of eating my own words now, but a show can be sold out and still be a bad show. It’s more about what everyone in the room is creating. Shows are like a social experiment. People are in a weird environment, and if the crowd can be a little bit less inhibited by themselves, kind of let go, then it can be a really good show. If the crowd loses themselves in the music, that’s good, because that’s what we’re doing up there. We are completely surrendering to the performance, and in order to receive that, I feel like you have to take down some of your normal barriers as a concert goer. That’s why shows with younger people is great. They don’t care how they look or act or if they’re getting bumped into. An older crowd can be a little bit more shy and grumpy. I mean, I’m the same way, I don’t go to shows and mosh or whatever anymore, so I get it. 

Did you notice that there was any effect from the virality? Was there a vibe change?

For sure, I feel like… I don’t want to say that it got tamer, but it got a little tamer. There’s definitely a difference between the bands. Again, Surf Curse, people go to get lit. They come to let go of something, you know? They want to go and mosh. Current Joys, I think they’re just going to feel something or experience some sort of emotion. There’s always a front row of people crying. That’s a good show! If you can get the front row to cry. 

So do you think it’s like about measuring the engagement of the crowd?

If I can play a song that’s new, unreleased, and people still go for it, that’s a good show. A bad show is if people only respond to the TikTok songs. There’s not a lot of that at my shows, but when those songs come up, I definitely see the phones pop up.

I fucking hate that.

I don’t mind it, it’s just something I kind of have to let go of. I get it. When I see a band and a song comes up that I know, I get more excited than a song that I don’t know. I get it. But there should be a surrender to the whole thing because we put a lot of time and effort into crafting the whole set as a single piece. 

Have you ever thought about not playing those songs?

I have, and I have played those sets. The fuck you sets. I started DJing a lot recently, and I’ll DJ a song at a bar, and it just feels good when you play a banger. You kind of have to do a one for you, one for me, kind of thing. I play a weird one but I’ll play the hits, too.

Can followed by Nelly.

Exactly. If you can play a hit and then play something random and they’re still dancing to it, that’s the trick. That’s what you want. 

If you were to address the crowd today who are about to see you and advise them on how to see Current Joys play, what advice would you give them?

I don’t know, man, I don’t really like to give instructions. You know when you go to a show and the crowd isn’t dancing and the lead singer is like, ‘hey, you can move!’

‘Move up there’s plenty of space!’

Even when I was playing like ten years ago and there was a cone of silence at the front of the stage where no one wants to be right in that space? If someone says, ‘hey you can step forward,’ I’m like, no, I will not do that now. As a performer, it’s my job to get in there and get closer to you. I’m too prideful to tell people what to do, do whatever you want to do, and I’ll try my hardest to get you to dance. You can’t tell someone to drop their boundaries, you have to get them to do it. It would be nice to be able to play Freaks or Blondie and not see a sea of phones come up, but at this point it’s part of the culture, and if they’re getting something out of that - which we could probably debate - it’s fine. 

Yeah, are they?

Its so funny because we’ll get tagged in the video on Instagram and it’s like the shittiest video, the sound is bad or whatever, and then it just vanishes a day later.

I’ll film a show sometimes, but I never lift my phone above my head because I don’t want to block people’s view, and I genuinely watch those videos often.

I saw Aphex Twin and I will watch those videos all the time. It was so sick. Honestly, I think I’ve just let go of it, I don’t even notice anymore. A lot of the time I don’t even look up. I’m focused on my own emotion and performance, and if I’m doing that, hopefully it will transcend itself into the audience.