Band of the Week: The Zincs

Hometown: Chicago, Ill.
Fun Fact: Zincs frontman Jim Elkington grew up in Chorleywood, England. He went to school with Martin Rossiter, frontman of '90s Britpop heroes Gene. The two had their first band together.
Why They're Worth Watching: The Zincs form a hub of activity within a particularly creative pocket of Chicago's music scene. All members moonlight with other projects, including The Occidental Brothers, Edith Frost, The Handsome Family and more. Elkington and bassist Nick Macri also perform in The Horse's Ha with Janet Beveridge Bean of Freakwater and Eleventh Dream Day.
For Fans Of: The Beautiful South, the Smiths, the Go-Betweens, African pop guitar

Jim Elkington's approach to Black Pompadour differs from his previous artistic efforts. "I wanted to get away from the singer-songwriter thing," he says. "I feel like there's a lot of it, and I don't listen to very much of it. I have a limited amount of interest in watching a guy on stage with an acoustic guitar, telling me how he feels." After a pause, he laughs, "I think maybe the reason why I became disinterested in that is because I was doing it a lot myself."

It makes sense, then, that Black Pompadour hinges upon the skillful but understated interplay between the Zincs' well-pedigreed players. Songs like "Rich Libertines" feature the mesmerizing mesh of Elkington and guitarist Nathaniel Braddock. "On some tunes, we're pretty well-knitted together," he explains. "Even though we do have the rhythm player/lead player dynamic, we're big fans of interlocking guitar parts. We're both Television fans, which is probably the best example of that kind of cognitive guitar process where you don't always know who's doing what."

Tracks such as "Hamstrung and Juvenile" are littered with personal experience and intriguing detail. Their meanings, however, can be difficult to divine. "Most of the lyrics are pulled from real life, but they're encrypted to the point where I'm comfortable with them," Elkington says. "If you focus very closely at the mole on someone's face, you don't see the whole face. It's a real thing, but it doesn't always add up to a whole."

"Lost Solid Colours" sounds soothing and tender, though its lyrics burn in the belly. The song's perspective shifts, mourning someone's loss of direction at one point, and criticizing the cult of celebrity at another. Elkington admits some lyrics simply feel right, and then take time to reveal themselves - even to him. "I've always done the Cryptic Crosswords in England," he says. "They're not just general knowledge puzzles; they're like riddles with a single word answer. I've got a book here; I'll read you a clue and an answer: 'I'm so startled when confounded by a poser.' And the answer is 'artist's model.' It's actually an anagram of 'I'm so startled.' The word that clues you into this anagram is 'confounded,' and the solution literally means 'a poser.'"

"If you do these things for long enough, you develop an instinct," he continues. "Sometimes you're struck with the answer before you even know why it's right. I may think, 'it's artist's model,' and then I'll have to go back and figure out why. Writing lyrics can be like that. They'll come out, and I'll know I've got something, even if I don't know what it is."

And much like he's done with many a Cryptic Crossword, at that moment, Elkington comes to a realization about his songwriting.

"And sometimes, it's nothing," he laughs.