We’re feeling the Faint

Yes, even the Faint's publicity photos are weird

The artist formerly known as Todd Baechle has spent over a decade churning out jagged dance music with the Faint, the Nebraska-based band formerly known as Norman Bailer. As early champions of the region's Saddle Creek label, the group and its lately renamed leader Todd Fink have helped to bring their scene national recognition, and created enough stir to build a new studio called Enamel and self-release a new album, "Fasciinatiion" (no, that’s not a typo), on the band's own label, blank.wav (yes, lowercase only, please). These dudes are unconventional like that. How unconventional? Todd lost the Baechle and took his wife's last name after marrying former Azure Ray siren Orenda Fink.

"My parents didn't really like it," Fink confesses, "but you have to do what you want to do, not what everybody wants you to do."

Good advice, but can he take it? He's being tested now, especially by Faint loyalists who want him to get back to blasting dance tracks about sex and parties, rather than war and peace, as he does on the new "Fasciinatiion" track "A Battle Hymn for Children." Throw in the Faint's newfound independence—a risky move, Fink admits—and you have a cerebral synth-funk band waking up to its future.

This is the first effort fully created and distributed by the band. How's it going so far?
Our fingers are still crossed at this point. Almost nobody has heard the record that we know or who we've talked to, so we don't really know what the world thinks of it. But we're happy with how it turned out.

How did you decide to strike out on your own?
The idea just naturally evolved. We wanted to record ourselves for awhile and we couldn't do it where we made [previous album] "Wet from Birth." We couldn't even make demos in that room, it sounded so terrible. And we were renting, so we got a building, built a studio and practice space. As soon the studio was done, we started tracking the record. We'd been on the same label for a long time, and they were old friends, but we figured, "Why not take the extra step?"

Well, I can think of a couple of reasons.
True. I guess the reason why not would be that we didn't have money. But we checked with the bank and they said it was cool.

Now that you're on the other side of the production divide, are you worried about things like illegal downloading?
I wonder about it. The Internet helped us over the span of our life as a band. Our shows are well-attended compared to how our records are selling. I hope people will help us continue as a band by coming to shows or buying something. Because now, if it doesn't work out, we're all selling our houses and cars.

Did the new independence change the way you created the new songs?
It was a f---ing blast in the studio, because we could do anything we want. Any idea we had, we could try out; all we had to do was make time to try it. It wasn't like work at all. Of course, there's a deadline. There's always a deadline. We wouldn't finish anything without one.

This is a pretty futuristic disc: are you a utopianist, or dystopianist?
I'm a utopianist. Aesthetically speaking, I like any kind of future. Most of those I've seen represented in art and film are looking like a good places to go. Even "THX-1138"—those robot guards are stupid. You can tip them over, if you're not scared.

Do you get a lot of questions about why you took on Orenda's last name?
Not too many have asked me about it. People sometimes say something when I'm introduced. I was tired of spelling my last name to people. It's always pronounced wrong, so I was happy to take her name. Baechle-Fink doesn't sound great.

So, no kids in the near future?
Not yet. I'm thinking of making them, about what it's like to be a father. I guess I just don't like to forget what it's like to be young. It's great to become wiser as you get older, but it's also great to live life in fascination and awe.