Generally speaking, when an artist puts out a greatest-hits album, it’s not the most encouraging sign. Retrospectives tend to feel like contractual obligations; some have the whiff of cheap cash-grabs—at least, they did, back when fans actually spent cash on them. Worst-case scenario, releasing a compilation can create the impression that an artist’s creative impulses aren’t as potent, that they’re past their sell-by date. Best-of records come with a sense that something’s reached its end; what other reason is there to memorialize something?
Well: to try and draw in new listeners. That’s why indie's most consistent act, Spoon, are releasing a greatest-hits album, according to the band’s frontman, Britt Daniel. “We’ve put out nine albums,” he says while sitting on a bench in New York City’s Washington Square Park, “and it’s a daunting amount of material to try to introduce yourself to.”
Enter Everything Hits at Once, a collection that cherrypicks 12 of the finest Spoon songs from the past 18 years—and throws in one fresh tune, the wiry “No Bullets Spent,” for good measure. Out July 26 via seasoned indie label Matador Records, the new look back is an impeccably sequenced sampling of Spoon’s highpoints. The cocky piano-play of “The Way We Get By,” the probing grooves of “Don’t You Evah,” the clipped wordplay and dog-eared vocals of “I Summon You”—it’s all there. And because the track list isn’t arranged chronologically, instead pin-balling around the band’s discography, the album also underlines just how skilled Spoon have been at shedding their skin, remaking themselves with fresh sounds and different members several times over. The whole set is a reminder to longtime fans, on the off-chance they need it, of why Spoon have a reputation for being one of the most consistent musical acts of the 21st century. But, like Daniel says, it’s really designed to provide any potential newcomers with an easy on-ramp.
“Designed” is the key word there. Daniel was the guiding hand in selecting and sequencing the track list, and took it seriously as a creative endeavor. “It still should have an artistic value to it,” the lanky 48-year-old argues, even as he concedes that this record is obviously “more marketing-oriented” than the band’s other albums. “If [greatest-hits compilations are] done right, they exist as a thing unto themselves, like, that’s one of the band’s albums.”
Just over 25 years into his beloved band’s career, Daniel still wants everything Spoon puts out to impress him, for it to be chasing some kind of breakthrough. That’s the sort of platitude that any artist will spout. More often than not, though, Spoon have answered that challenge—which explains why they’ve endured for so long, and are even able to assemble a “greatest hits” in the first place. It’s a legacy they’re commemorating now, but at the same time, they're looking to continue moving forward.
Daniel says that, in the process of searching for which songs to include on Everything Hits at Once, he revisited Spoon’s old albums, and was genuinely blown away by some of what he heard. “I want to be able to feel that way about what we do next,” he says behind sunglasses, the late-afternoon May light making his reddish-blond hair look almost hay-colored. “And if I’m not, then there’s no point.” Considering the strength of their past output, that’s quite a standard to live up to.
Spoon came together in 1993, in Austin, not too far from the small, “pretty conservative” town of Temple, Texas, where Daniel grew up. Originally, the band began as a foursome featuring two members who weren’t long for the group, and drummer Jim Eno, the project’s only permanent fixture aside from Daniel. (If you’re new here, they got the name “Spoon” from an early-‘70s single by the German outfit Can, a detail that has no doubt inspired more than a few regrettable rock-critic one-liners.)
A jittery debut album heavily indebted to the Pixies, dubbed Telephono, arrived in 1996 and showed enough promise to help Spoon get signed to a major label, at a time when major labels were still seeking out young, jittery guitar bands heavily indebted to the Pixies. It’s here, with the involvement of Elektra Records, that Spoon’s creation myth takes shape. The story’s indie-rock canon at this point: Soon after the release of their second album, 1998’s A Series of Sneaks, Spoon’s A&R guy, Ron Laffitte, left the company; the band swiftly followed suit, and not by choice. “It was a moment when getting dropped by a major label was a very public thing,” Daniel remembers. “Usually it meant the band is breaking up—that’s it. It’s pretty rare for a band to keep going.”
But Spoon took the opportunity to level up instead, and Daniel wasn’t afraid to use the major-label flameout for fuel. Before resurfacing with their third proper album in 2001, Spoon released a single inspired by the Elektra mess, taking specific aim at Laffitte—even punning on the guy’s name. In 2019 parlance, “The Agony of Laffitte” and its B-side, “Laffitte Don’t Fail Me Now,” would probably be called “petty,” but 20 or so years after the fact, Daniel’s at peace with what went down. “I don’t hold anything against the dude now. Everything turned out for the best for me and, I think, probably for him,” he says, before cracking a smile. “[In] the moment, I was not happy.”
After getting dropped from Elektra, the band languished in limbo for a few years, shopping around a couple of versions of what would become their third full-length. “I knew it was the best thing we’d ever done, and still we couldn’t find anyone to put it out,” Daniel recalls, his voice spiked with some residual desperation. Finally, their new songs caught the attention of Merge Records. “It took a long time between finishing it and when [Superchunk frontman and Merge co-founder] Mac McCaughan called me,” Daniel says. “And when he did, it was a happy day. Who knew whether it was going to be successful or not, I just wanted someone to put it out.”
When Girls Can Tell actually made it out into the world, it reintroduced Spoon as a more focused unit—one with a clearer vision and sharper aesthetic. Suddenly, the band had a knack for noirish atmosphere and moonlit riffs on Motown. All these years later, it’s the record that most pleasantly surprised Daniel when he listened back through everything for the greatest-hits album. “I realized that, fuckin’ a, Girls Can Tell is an amazing record. I knew it was good, but,” he pauses to chuckle, “I guess that was maybe the one that I was like, ‘Fuck, I forgot what a thing that is.’”
From there, Spoon embarked on the run that’s earned them all those accolades for being so “consistent.” (“I think what they mean is ‘consistently great,’” Daniel says sincerely, when I mention this critical shorthand.) The lean yet inventive Kill the Moonlight quickly followed in 2002, then came the fuller but no less eclectic Gimme Fiction in 2005. And in 2007, just as the indie-rock boom of the 2000s was peaking, Spoon too reached their apex with the effervescent Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga.
During this period, each consecutive LP brought the band higher and higher up the Billboard charts—first the indie chart, then the Billboard 200 Albums chart, which Ga Ga entered at No. 10. Music publications large and small sang Spoon’s praises, and made sure to save them a perennial spot on year-end lists. Whether you realize it or not, you probably know a few tunes from this string of albums, since many of them showed up on TV and the big screen (including in an opening scene from 2017’s Spider-Man: Homecoming). Less than a decade after they might as well have been declared dead in the industry, Spoon had become a genuine success.
And they did it by simply getting better and better—by refining their specific blend of studio wizardry and appealingly aloof vibes. Of course, it also didn’t hurt that their hot streak coincided with a time when there was a sizable appetite for artists not pandering to Top-40 radio, when a positive Pitchfork review could turn a band into an almost-overnight sensation. But plenty of acts proved unable to sustain internet hype (easy targets include Tapes ‘n Tapes, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah). Even some of the other heavyweights from that era have had fans and critics either shrug or turn on them in recent years (see: Animal Collective, Arcade Fire). None of that applies to Spoon.
“I don’t know if I know of any other bands with that trajectory,” Daniel says. And there’s two reasons why he says Spoon has survived: “Quality,” he says. “And willpower.”
Britt Daniel doesn’t appear to be a very nostalgic guy. He’s not exactly close-mouthed when asked about Spoon’s history, but “chatty” isn’t the word, either. “I’m always just looking that way,” he says, clicking his tongue as he points straight ahead into a bushel of trees. But isn’t it more than a little old-fashioned to be releasing a greatest-hits album? Particularly for a band that’s always striving to push their music forward, or, at the very least, never repeat themselves? After all, anyone with a streaming account can access Spoon’s “greatest hits”—the services even rank their best-known songs by popularity.
“Anybody can make a playlist, but this isn’t a playlist, this is a physical thing you can own, put on your turntable. It’s curated by us, it’s got a very intentional flow to it,” Daniel says. “You can call it old-fashioned if you want, but I don’t know, you could call vinyl old-fashioned, a lot of people still like vinyl. You can call albums old-fashioned, but every artist still puts out albums that I’m aware of.”
Spoon still release new albums, but have slowed down a touch, maintaining a steady pace of a fresh LP every three or four years. They started this decade with 2010’s intentionally less polished Transference, generally considered the only semi-blemish on their record. After a lengthy break to get some breathing room and test out other pursuits (Daniel formed a brief side project, Divine Fits, with Wolf Parade singer-guitarist Dan Boeckner), Spoon came back in 2014 with the rapturously received They Want My Soul, which was hailed as a return to form. Most recently, they exploded their sound a bit on 2017’s Hot Thoughts, an exercise in psychedelia and steamy electronics. At the time, Daniel joked in the press about the most avant-garde track from that latest record—a saxophone-led fever dream called “Us”—being a hint as to the band’s future. Judging from the more guitar-centric “No Bullets Spent,” that’s not quite the direction they’re headed.
Daniel confirms that Spoon—which now includes drummer Eno, brand new bassist Ben Trokan, and keyboardist-guitarists Alex Fischel and Gerardo Larios—are recording some material for their next full-length. When asked what they’re envisioning, the frontman plainly states that he wants to “do something that’s got real rock & roll energy to it,” so perhaps a back-to-basics-type of effort is in the works. Don’t expect a simple retread, though, and don’t read the arrival of Everything Hits at Once as a sign that Spoon are winding down or creatively spent. Daniel is serious about meeting that standard that Spoon have set for themselves. “I love doing shows,” he says, “but first thing you’ve gotta do is make a great record. And, if you can’t feel proud of that, then the whole thing is gonna fall apart."