Originally published in Verbicide issue #15

I don’t care if you’re Joe Schmoe or a record label owner and former bass player for one of the greatest rock bands of the 1990s — if you can enthusiastically converse about baseball, punk rock, and growing up in the Twin States (that’s Vermont and New Hampshire, for you non-New Englanders), you’re an immediate friend.

Such is the case with Kim Coletta. If her history as a founding member of Jawbox and the owner of indie stalwart DeSoto Records didn’t provide enough topics for discussion, our common interests most certainly did. In fact, it wasn’t until 20 minutes into our conversation that I posed the first question of the interview!

I’ve wracked my brains trying to think of anyone else in the independent music community that has covered the ground Kim has, and honestly, I can’t. In their eight years of existence, Jawbox released records on both the underground and fiercely independent Dischord Records and the giant indie-band-eating monster Atlantic Records. They toured the entire world, playing everywhere from the smallest, grittiest punk rock dives to stadiums and amphitheaters — and through it all they wrote and released some of the best and most influential music of the decade.

Concurrent to playing and touring with Jawbox, Kim raised her “baby,” DeSoto Records, from a convenient little name to slap on the back of her band’s self-released EP in 1990, to a force in the indie rock scene that continues to this day. Though the label’s hey-day of releasing popular albums from The Dismemberment Plan and Burning Airlines has come and gone, DeSoto still churns out excellent music from the likes of The Life and Times and former Jawbox frontman J. Robbins’s latest project, Channels. The biggest news of late to surface from the DeSoto camp, however, may be the label’s acquisition of the two major label Jawbox albums, 1994’s For Your Own Special Sweetheart, and their 1996 self-titled swansong. While the re-releases of these currently out-of-print records are not DeSoto’s current priority, Kim states that she hopes to have them out “within a year, maybe,” and, more importantly, broke the news about a big surprise she and her band mates have planned for the two albums.

These days, Kim’s time is mostly dedicated to her family and her new career as a librarian. And though she expresses understandable frustration and exhaustion regarding her record label, her enthusiasm is undeniable when she speaks about all of her projects, past, present, and future.

I’ve read that you’re originally from southern New Hampshire — not too far from where I live in southern Vermont. I was wondering, where exactly did you grow up?
Nashua — and it’s definitely not a town, it’s a city, by New Hampshire and Vermont standards, especially! It’s not a small, cute New England town by any stretch of the imagination.

Did you get to hang out in Manchester a lot?
Yeah, actually. My first punk rock show was seeing GG Allin, who’s way before your time—

I know about GG Allin. That must have warped your mind!
Yes, I was very young. [It was] in Manchester — I couldn’t even tell you where. It wasn’t a reputable club and it certainly doesn’t exist today, and I don’t even remember what the name of it was — but that show was really interesting. But because Nashua is on the border of Massachusetts, besides that show in Manchester, there really weren’t any shows in New Hampshire. That actually has changed. Like, there’s a Newbury Comics now in Nashua; none of that kind of stuff existed when I was growing up! Everything we did was in Boston — and we were only 35 miles outside of Boston; it was not some difficult place to get to. I left New Hampshire and never went back. My dad still lives in Nashua, but I’m in and out of there whenever I visit him. I left for college here in DC, and this has been my home ever since.

What are some of your fondest memories of going to shows in Boston? Were there any area bands or venues that made a huge impact on you before you left New England?
We went to a lot of shows at the Rathskeller, which is…

Gone.
Gone. And, I’m particularly fond of thinking about that because it has such history behind it — my mom and dad met at the Rathskeller when they were both in college in Boston. That’s a lot of history for me! So, you know, the fact that I was going to punk rock shows there was just excellent.

And now it’s a big, fancy hotel.
Is that what it is? I’m sure they just plowed it right down; I’m surprised they didn’t put condos up there or something…loft-style, of course. (laughter)

In Chinmusic issue three, you mentioned you switched allegiances from the Red Sox to the Orioles, but I was wondering if you found yourself rooting for Boston in the World Series last year.
No, I don’t give a crap about the Orioles anymore! It’s Nationals, all the way! I haven’t seen an Orioles game since the Nats came to town — I’m in with a bunch of people; we’re season ticket holders, and since it’s the inaugural year, we got great seats. I’ve been to a bunch of games this summer, and it’s been particularly fun because Washington is an amazing baseball town, and, I think, since the Senators [baseball team moved from DC to Arlington, Texas in 1972], people have been twiddling their thumbs waiting for baseball to come back. Camden Yards is a beautiful stadium — you know, it’s modeled after the old stadiums, like Fenway Park, but with more modern touches. And, it’s really lovely, but I don’t live in Baltimore, and Baltimore’s a really different city than DC, as close as we are to each other. It’s always fun going to see Orioles games, but I never felt truly connected to them. So it’s nice to have something here, and my son’s gone to a few games this year. The Nationals have been a big surprise, too, because, of course…they were the Expos last year! (laughter) We expected nothing, and got something — and that’s really exciting!

I’m a diehard Red Sox fan—
So’s my brother! When they were about lose [in the 2004 American League Championship Series], I actually thought he was going to have a heart attack! (laughter) There were moment where I was like, “Oh my god, my brother’s going to die right here!” But he’s like that, a real hardcore Red Sox fan — he lives here in DC, too. And my whole family — some are still in Massachusetts — are big Red Sox fans. So my son gets Red Sox…everything…sent to him. (laughter)

I may have to contribute to the “Making Your Son a Red Sox Fan” fund.
Clothe him in little, cute Red Sox shirts! This is weird, though, this is weird — my father, who’s never really left New Hampshire in his life because he’s not a big traveler—

A Yankees fan?
Yeah. I don’t get that! And he and my brother have a lot of fun with that, as you can imagine…

Now, you guys [in Washington, DC] have a punk rock softball pickup league that the diehards from all the bands and labels play in, right?
“Punk rock” is going a little too far, because it’s not like every single person is from the DC music scene, but it has it’s roots in that, a little bit — but over the years, the lineup has changed a little…although, some people have played for a really long time, including myself and Ian MacKaye, of course, and Mike Russell, who used to drum for Shudder To Think — he’s one of our oldest players. Now, I think this is my 13th year. We get a permit — the county we live in has no idea what we do, because everyone else plays in leagues around here! (laughter) About 18 or 20 of us show up…we pick teams based on ability, so we try to evenly match them…and we play until the sun goes down! Sometimes we keep score, there’s definitely no striking out, we have no umpire…you just bat until you hit! You [get to] hit during a game, like, 15 times, so it’s super fun. We don’t play a [set number of] innings, we just play whatever. If the teams are really lopsided, we just trade a player! It’s really unusual what we do. It might be that people get a pickup game going once a year, but we do this from April until Labor Day!

That sounds like fun! We have lots of adult softball leagues [where I live], and people are just nuts about it, but the thing is…lots of people take beer-league softball way more seriously than I took playing college baseball; their egos hang in limbo with every pitch, and I can’t deal with that.
I have to say, you’re talking mostly about men’s egos, because it’s been my experience that the guys get so hyper-competitive, and they come wearing those fucking knee braces and stuff, and I’m just like, “Ugh, I could die!” Our little formation was kind of a way of getting away from all of that. Are we competitive? Yeah, man, this is sports, and it’s fun! But it’s healthy and good, and we’re not, like, drinking while we play. Drinking and ball-sports don’t go hand-in-hand, that always has amazed me. You’re just looking to get your teeth knocked out!

Back to music, you were saying that your interest in music obviously began when you lived in New England, but do you feel that it really blossomed once you got to DC?
Oh, yeah.

You moved there in the ‘80s, right?
‘84.

‘84, So it was a real bustling underground scene that you were coming right into the thick of.
It was; it was a lovely time in DC. The DC music scene was quite different than the Boston music. The Boston scene was more about hardcore music, and a little violent — you know, big pits and stuff, and that was kind of exciting when I was a teenager. [When I moved to DC], I came right into, like…Embrace, Rites of Spring, Dag Nasty…they were going strong then. And I was into other parts of the music scene, bands that you’ve never even heard of — more melodic bands, less punk rock, outside of the Dischord music scene. There was so much stuff happening in DC, and it was cool, there were shows all the time! (laughter) But I picked DC on purpose! Yeah, I got into a good college, but I knew I wanted to be in a big city. I knew I didn’t want to be in a small town somewhere, because music was really important to me. And I met Ian [MacKaye, co-owner of Dischord Records] early into my college career. I think I was a sophomore when I met Ian at a party because his family lived in Georgetown, [and] I went to Georgetown University, so I lived off-campus not far from where he and friends were.

So I just started bumping into those people. I had a real rich music life, it had nothing to do with being on campus. Not a whole lot was happening at Georgetown, musically speaking. That being said, I went to school with some interesting people who were doing music and have gone on to continue doing music, like Jenny Toomey from Simple Machines was there, and David Grubbs who was in Squirrel Bait, and now he’s doing solo stuff. He writes music that’s just off the hook; he’s really talented. He’s very successful, especially in Europe. David’s on Thrill Jockey…that label.

Thrill Jockey — Chicago, right?
Yeah, he lives in Chicago right now, actually.

I was wondering, what did you study [at Georgetown], and what factors made you decide to make the move to DC a permanent one?
I’m not sure it matters what I studied at this point. That’s the thing about college: once you do a liberal arts major, it doesn’t really matter! (laughter)

I’m three and a half years out of a liberal arts education — a day out and it didn’t matter.
Let’s not even worry about what I studied — it was a great education and a good foundation for life, let’s say! And…I never even considered leaving DC. My friends all bolted out of Nashua, because that’s the kind of people we were. My old friends were spread all over the country, so it wasn’t like I’d be going home to some great deal. I made so many great friends [during college], and a lot of us just stayed after [we finished] school, and then I knew all these people who were from Georgetown at that point, so it was just a comfortable place to get my first group house, and…I don’t know, I never even thought of leaving. It wasn’t even a question!

Did your education play any role in how you run DeSoto Records, or would you credit your time working at Dischord Records, and perhaps even your involvement with the Slamdek label, as your primary education in managing a label?
Certainly, I learned nothing practical at Georgetown.

That’s pretty much the same answer Greg Ginn gave me when I asked him about running SST.
That is funny, I’m not surprised that two people would give an answer like that — especially if you have a liberal arts background. What I will say is that I think kids should go to college — whether it’s their local community college, an Ivy League school, whatever path makes sense for them, financially- and educationally-speaking. And I think they should go when they’re young, because it only gets harder to go back when you’re older.

I’ve seen a lot of people in the music scene who kind of have regrets, because they focused on music first and not education — to the point where at DeSoto, I didn’t even want to work with kids in college, because college is about sorting your shit out. It’s about more than just “book-learning.” That’s where you learn to be a semi-functional adult. It’s in a safe setting where you can get your shit together, and I think that’s a big role of college! Sometimes, for a lot of kids, it’s being on their own for the first time, learning to do laundry, whatever! These little life things that you maybe might not have picked up at home.

Anyway, I think it’s great when people go to college if that is a good plan for them, if they can swing that — and then go on. Certainly, you can rock in college, but I feel like I’ve never met a band that’s even semi-successful in the independent music scene [whose members] succeed in college. Those two things don’t really go together, because you need tour your ass off to be in a successful indie band.

And you need to stay at home if you want to be a good student.
Yeah, and you can’t do that in college! It just doesn’t work. While there are many college bands, they’re gonna break up and go on to be other bands! (laughter) I learned pragmatic things, definitely, by being at Dischord. For sure. I’ve made many departures from the way Dischord does business, but I would say my fundamental way of doing business is exactly modeled after Dischord.

You mean, ethically, rather than—?
Even practically speaking, because I don’t use contracts. [Dischord] doesn’t use contracts. This is extremely unusual — I don’t know any of my peers who don’t use contracts, even at indie labels smaller than DeSoto — because they’re nervous. Just things like that. And, sure, ethically, but there are more amorphous reasons, too, but…[DeSoto] wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for Ian, really. It’s a labor of love, [running a record label].

Same goes for a zine!
I would never want to do a zine — but if I were starting from scratch again, I probably wouldn’t want to do a label! It is such hard work — at least a zine is a simpler business model, because you don’t have inventory. It’s really complex — kids are always asking, “How do I start a label?” and it’s really hard, paying royalties, doing accounting and stuff — it’s a little business, and you can’t treat it like it’s a little hobby because you have other people involved, the bands are counting on you. It’s strange to hear people just say, “I’ll start a label!” because a lot needs to go into that statement. And I’m constantly amazed; you hear the biggest complaints from bands, like, “They don’t even know how to run the label!” Sure, that makes sense to me. I’m really good at accounting, but I don’t know how people do it who aren’t.

I’m just delving into things like accounting, legal processes, in addition to editing, selling ads, dealing with distributors…
I believe that you should do everything yourself when you have a small business, and then if it’s successful down the road you can branch out. But it’s a good learning experience to know all the elements yourself.

I completely agree with that, and so many people that I talk to, I tell them that and they have such a hard time understanding it; they’re like, “Why don’t you take out a loan, why don’t you put together a business plan, and if you don’t see yourself being able to hire [paid employees] why don’t you just scrap it and move on with your life.” Well, first and foremost, it’s not even a money thing. The money is a dream, but doing this is — period, regardless of money — is essential to my well-being; I have to do this.
Sure, and you hear that from a lot of bands, “I have to do this, or I would die!” (laughter) So I understand that, and the fact that DeSoto is creeping along…I don’t really have any big bands now. I appreciated The Dismemberment Plan 100 percent [when they were active], and now, in retrospect, I appreciate them like a 110 percent! They were really paying the bills, because — by independent standards — they had incredible sales over the course of their four records with me. So I kind of miss having a band like that, because that enabled me to do any number of bands that would only sell 2,000 records. Times are tough for me right now.

When you inherited, so to speak, the label name “DeSoto Records” from your friends in Edsel, did you see it at that time — or really, at any time — as something that would just continue to be a career for you? Or, at least, a lifelong endeavor?
No crap, I would never have predicted it would’ve lasted this long! I was just goofing off at the beginning, throwing out 7-inches between Jawbox tours — not that I didn’t always take it seriously. I am serious about business, and always have been [since] I was a kid. But…“no” is the answer, I couldn’t have seen it lasting this long!

How did you deal with running the label remotely while you were playing in a touring band for close to a decade?
How did I? It’s become a dim memory. (laughter) I think at times it was super stressful trying to run some of the stuff from the road, and I know that Laura and Mac from Superchunk had a lot of the same issues I did back in the day, trying to run Merge, which has since become a much bigger label. You just do it. We didn’t even have the Internet or email at our disposal. It was lots of time at fucking pay phones, because we didn’t have cell phones either.

Lots of calling cards.
Calling cards and pay phones in the pouring rain in, like, Montana! (laughter) I don’t remember the actual nuts and bolts of it — probably because I’ve blotted it out of my memory. But, somehow, it worked! Somehow I did it. And I’ve always had an assistant of some sort at DeSoto. See, my business model is really different from a lot of indie labels, too, because I don’t hire a bunch of people. What I do is I use a bunch of freelance people, more than I have employees — independent press and radio publicists, who aren’t in DC. My distributor is in Chicago. I’ve only ever had one employee at a time — it’s always been me and someone else who works part time.

And your husband [Bill Barbot] works, too, doesn’t he?
He does all the web stuff, and without him I couldn’t do DeSoto, so let’s give Bill props! (laughter) That website kicks ass compared to a lot of other websites out there! It’s professional because he runs a web development company.

That’s a nice in-house thing to have right there.
Yeah, I mean, I paid for it but I got such a discount it’s scary.

What other major obstacles have you had to overcome in running DeSoto? You had to put down the label from about 2002 to 2004, correct?
Didn’t really put it down — [that is a] common misperception. I had my child in June of ‘01, had some serious health complications after his birth, didn’t really feel like going public with it at the time — really haven’t gone public with it much because I figure, whatever — people are going to say whatever they want, you know. But really what happened is that all the bands broke up at one time! There were no bands! (laughter) And so rather than just running out and getting five new bands, I chilled out for a little while. But the thing is — and you know this from your zine — the business never stops. I still have to do royalties, and accounting, and people are asking for promo copies, and whatever other shit that needs to be done. It’s not like I went on a two-year vacation somewhere. Interesting perception, though. I think I’ve suffered for it.

How so?
I’ve suffered for it because people think, oh, DeSoto’s dead, she quit, whatever. That being said, right now I’m actually kind of reevaluating what I’m doing with DeSoto. For real. There are a lot of other things I want to pursue in my life, and the label is just bleeding money right now. It’s kind of an untenable situation for me, because now I have a family. It’s charming when you’re 25, but less charming at my age…

I’m 25, so I’m going to take that to heart.
Yeah, yeah, see? It was a lucky guess on my part — no, I could’ve done the math with you. (laughter) But anyway, I’m working on a children’s [music] compilation right now, and I’m very excited about it.

Yeah, I was actually going to ask you about that; I read [on pitchforkmedia.com] that you are teaming up with a friend of yours, Susie Tennent, to release a series of children’s records.
Yes, Susie Tennent, who’s out in Seattle, is working on it with me. There are some bands I know who are turning in the most creative, interesting tracks for children, and I’m so proud of them! It’s coming out so well. It’s been really fun. We’ll see what the future holds for DeSoto, but it’s definitely going to be a slowing-down time for me, and I’m actually working outside the house part time now, too — “house” meaning my business, since I work out of my home. I’ve never had an office in all these years of running it — the second floor of my house is basically DeSoto Records.

Going back to the children’s records, are you going to be doing any performing on those?
No, no, not me. Bands are turning in tracks.

I love the DC children’s show, “Pancake Mountain”—have you been in contact with them?
We’ve gone to a Pancake Mountain show; they do dance parties. Those people, like Scott Stuckey who started it, those are some really cool people. I’d like to see that show take off a little bit, that would be cool.

I’d like to see it on public access outside of DC, like “Sesame Street!”
Yeah, totally! What I’m doing isn’t really connected with Pancake Mountain, but inspired by. And no, I’m not playing any music on the record, but I’m the “compiler,” I guess.

DeSoto has released around 50 albums in it’s existence — from it all, what releases stand out most in your mind?
(Long pause) Not going down that road with you! I’m not, because it’s like having a bunch of kids and some of your kids…

You don’t want to exclude anyone!
Exactly, like, they’re all your children, and you love them all — maybe in different ways, but you love them nonetheless. And as hokey as that is, I do feel like that about my releases. On any given day [depending] on what mood I’m in, something might inspire me more than something else, but there’s a reason I’ve put out all that shit! It’s not always a good business decision. (laughter)

When you were in Jawbox, you played everywhere from tiny punk rock clubs to RFK Stadium — that must have been cool, by the way, going to see a baseball game at a stadium you played.
I sat not far from where I played at RFK Stadium, so it was a really surreal moment. Playing on the main stage at that stadium was pretty trippy. But I’ve played much cooler [venues] — Rocky Gorge, this stadium out in western Washington…and that fucking place that U2 made popular out in Colorado, what the hell is the name of that arena…

Is that the one Dave Matthews played at, too?
Probably! Anyway, yeah, we played some big venues with Stone Temple Pilots. (Pause) Anyway, sorry, carry on with your question! (laughter)

Anyway, you started on a great underground label in Dischord and made the leap to the big label, played small clubs to huge stadiums — it seems like the ride must have been incredibly exciting and tumultuous at the same time, and I’m wondering, what are some of your greatest memories from your years in Jawbox, and, if any, what are some of the things you wish you could change?
Hmm…

Seems like a loaded question, eh?
Well, no, it’s not a loaded question — there are a lot of ways I could play this question, and I can think of a lot of things that people would expect to hear, but I don’t have any regrets about what I did with Jawbox, the path we took. I really don’t! All you can do is look back at your decisions and say, “Oh, in retrospect, perhaps this would have been smarter.” But after a couple records on Dischord we wanted a change, we consulted with Ian about it — we didn’t piss him off, like some bands have done over the history of Dischord — we’ve remained friends with him ever since, but there are no regrets there. We wanted a change, we got the change.

Working with Atlantic [Records] was exhilarating at times, fucking infuriating at times — just like you’d expect from this bureaucracy. But we always had an excellent sense of humor as a band, so even the infuriating moments, I’ll look back at them now and think, that was funny! We pretty much managed ourselves, so we were really able to see what it was like to be on a major — and I don’t think a lot of bands get to experience that. By major label standards, the two records with Atlantic weren’t extremely successful — but shit, they sold more than the Dischord records, and kept us going a few more years, and I feel proud of those sales. Looking back now at what is selling on DeSoto, they were really good sales. It was fun!

Best moments of Jawbox? I don’t know; it was a total wild ride, I have so many great moments…I can’t even think of one that stands out above all the others!

I didn’t know if it might be something as simple as, “Oh man, I had the best donuts in Des Moines!”
It’s funny though, I have 500 stories like that! You know what I mean? We did, I don’t know, 650 live shows. You know, touring is the same whether you’re the tiniest band or the biggest band in the world. The bad moments are really bad, and the great moments are really great. And I think that’s what’s so exciting about touring — or, [that’s] what makes touring so horrifying for some bands, because you’ve probably met or talked to some bands who don’t really enjoy touring. We weren’t one of those bands. We thought touring was a blast. But then, at the end of Jawbox, I also felt like, “I’ve done it. I’ve done it; I’ve played some huge venues, some great, tiny venues, seen the whole country six billion times or whatever”…we were ready to call it quits; it was time.

I read on pitchforkmedia.com a while back that you purchased the rights for For Your Own Special Sweetheart and Jawbox’s self-titled album from Atlantic, and plan to re-release those on DeSoto. How exactly did you go about that task, and when can we expect to see those releases?
That’s true! We’re working on the records now. What Pitchfork doesn’t know — you want a scoop?

Hell yeah.
I haven’t told anyone this — we’re re-releasing the records, but we’re writing two new Jawbox songs right now to include on the re-releases. So we’re working, and J. [Robbins] has a new studio in Baltimore, which I want to give a pitch for because it’s an amazing little studio. I’m so proud of him. That’s been his dream, to open a studio, and he’s finally done that. Bill and J. were jamming at his studio the other day, and we have some nice little parts there started, so that will be really fun. I don’t think there’s a reunion tour in the works for so many reasons, but we have a different situation now — J.’s about to have his first kid in January, I have a kid, it’s hard now.

If I ever get married, will Jawbox play my wedding?
I’ll take it under consideration! (laughter) Your family would be horrified. “We can’t dance to this!”

How exactly did you go about that task [acquiring the rights to the albums from Atlantic]? Were there a bunch of contracts and lawyers and complicated negotiations involved? Or was it pretty straightforward?
No…it’s not [straightforward] with major labels. My lawyer called their legal department; you cannot do this kind of stuff directly. It’s very much a legal process. You’ve got to know in life, even when you run an indie, sometimes you use a lawyer — it’s unavoidable for certain elements of things that you might want to do! This was definitely one of those times. I have this really cool lawyer I work with, this guy Brian who was in a pretty popular hardcore band back in the day, and now he’s a lawyer, and he’s not super expensive. He’s really good. We dealt with Atlantic, and it took forever! I got [the albums] back, but I had to pay $10,000.

Ooh! But I would hope that that’s just money in the bank for DeSoto.
We’ll see, we’ll see. Let’s just break even, knock on wood! I’ve got a lot of work to do with those records. They’ll be out eventually, there’s no rush.

When did that whole acquisition get set in motion, and when do you hope to have these out by?
I’ve had the rights to them for like a year. I don’t know when they’re coming out, because my current bands [on the DeSoto roster] always take precedence over projects like this. But we are writing these songs, and it’s kind of contingent on getting two songs written and recorded, and I don’t know how fast that’s going to go! Within a year maybe?

What other goals do you currently have your sights set on outside of DeSoto?
Well, I’m working — I just started a new job as a middle school librarian, that’s what my master’s degree is in [library sciences]. I’m working at a local school. It’s really fun and really different than running the label — but really gratifying!