Throughout literary history, beasts of mythology have burst forth from the fertile imaginations of writers equipped with the body parts of various animals and the ability to breathe fire.

In a way, Vulture Whale could be the indie-rock version of such a creature. It's trunk is pure Southern rock, but one of its faces has the degenerate sneer and dangerous aspect of New York City toughs like Lou Reed and The Strokes, while the other is marked by features that recall the drunken humanity and sloppy genius of The Replacements. But, it's heart is all rock 'n' roll, and like the literary abominations of the ancient past, when Vulture Whale opens its mouth, it emits a fiery sonic blaze.

Based way down South in Birmingham, Ala., a city with a burgeoning rock 'n' roll scene, Vulture Whale's no-bullshit, balls-out rock 'n' roll energy — delivered with a slight Southern twang and power-pop sensibilities — provides a showcase for the blue-collar, lyrical honesty of Wes McDonald. You might know him from the Athens, Ga., band The Ohms, or the two records he recorded under the pseudonym Terry Ohms.

Whatever the case, Vulture Whale (visit www.myspace.com/vulturewhale for more on the band) will be dropping its second album in February on the Skybucket Records label. McDonald took time out to talk about the band, its upcoming release and his love for The Replacements and why Vulture Whale's sound isn't just the sound of the South.

What are the origins of Vulture Whale? I know you're from Birmingham, Ala., but how did the band come together?
Wes McDonald: Lester (Nuby, multi-instrumentalist), Wes, and (drummer) Jake (Waitzman) went to high school/junior high together. We met (bassist) Keelan (Parrish) by way of our friends in the band, Through the Sparks. Lester and Wes were in bands together in junior high, high school, and college. Wes was the drummer of all those bands. Lester played guitar. Lester went on to be the drummer for Verbena for 9 years. Jake and Wes were in a band for the several years right before Vulture Whale started up. Lester goes to SXSW  in 2003 to play keyboards with [a] Wes McDonald solo project that featured Jake on drums. That turned into Lester playing guitar in the band and then Keelan replacing the bass player and there the four of us were Vulture Whale and didn’t know it yet. We carried on with Wes solo for a year or so before
Solidifying into Vulture Whale.


You have a history of self-recording and writing honest, really insightful lyrics with projects like The Ohms and Terry Ohms. What's different about working with Vulture Whale?
WM: I want to be in the band. I don’t want the band to be mine. I did the solo thing for a while. That was fine and liberating after being with The Ohms. But, eventually I wanted to get back to making music by committee. When you’re a guy with a backup band, the band is always changing out members and everyone is looking at you for the answers, instead of feeling responsible for coming up with their own. You have to have cohesiveness to forward yourselves. Vulture Whale was originally called Wes McDonald and The Fizz. We played all the solo stuff. We knew that we had a good thing as a group, so we made a group record and figured out a name for ourselves. Everything got better and better from then on, especially the music. When you find yourself one of four people that complement each other musically and get along so well personally, you should seal that deal, 'cause that doesn’t happen but a few times in a lifetime. Coming up with a new name sealed it for us, symbolically. That gave everyone the go-ahead to commit to the group. No one does anything by themselves. Nothing worth doing is that easy. You can “sit in” with other musicians and songwriters and producers for the rest of your life. All that won’t mean half as much in the long run as being in a real band with a direction and a history of development, and a million good stories that make the songs write themselves. I mean, is there really anything better than an inside joke? Vulture Whale is one big inside joke inside of an inside joke.

What is the best or worst thing about being from Birmingham?
WM: Artistically, I find people to be genuine and into their own thing. Because of that, bands in Birmingham don’t sound like each other. It makes for a good scene. As far as life in general goes, I like living here and being a musician, because not everybody in town is a musician. I used to live in Athens, Ga. Everybody was in a band and all anybody talked about was music. It was boring.

While there's definitely a sad country twang to songs like "What Do," I hear a lot of The Replacements — especially the early stuff — in songs like "That's Cold" and especially "Tote It To Cleveland." Is Paul Westerberg a songwriter you admire?
WM: The Replacements are America’s version of the Clash. I think that would be my dream concert, I think.

Yes. I love them and found them at a very impressionable time. I found the Matz after I graduated from Billy Idol (my first concert), Billy Squier, Billy Joel and all the other Billys. About junior high or so. About the same time, I also loved The Feelies and stuff like that. Westerberg was obviously a songwriting force that was concerned with pleasing no one. Though it really wasn’t obvious to me at the time. I just related to that attitude that The Replacements had. Chris Mars is a great drummer, too — one of my favorite drummers. Stanley Demeski of The Feelies and Luna is also one of my favorite drummers. I think Stanley and Chris could’ve traded bands, and it would have been seamless. I couldn’t tell you one line from a Feelies song. That band just feels good. They’re like a beautiful girl that doesn’t speak your language. Here’s the best way I know of to describe The Replacements: They leave me pissed off with a smile on my face. That’s really what I like about rock 'n' roll. It’s a joke but serious at the same time. In my salad days, I would take out a Replacements tape and put in a Charlie Daniels Band tape next. I don’t really listen to country music anymore. I guess rock won.

Is there a real person named "Teedy," the subject of the first song off the new album? 
WM: There is no one we know personally named Teedy. I googled it and found a female jazz singer named Teedy something or other after the fact.

That song has a real energy to it, but it seems like there's a slight twist in the mood toward the end that's interesting. It goes from this fist-shaking rebellion to a different kind of place, one that's more fearful or serious. Explain why it shifts like that.
WM: The story of Teedy is one of transformation (aren’t they all). This girl starts out as a straight-laced, Datsun-driving, turtleneck, shy type. She transforms into a cut-off blue jeans wearin', hog leg, Trans Am-driving, smoking lesbian. Which one is the real Teedy? The answer to that question is, "Yes." We all have a wild/tame conflict going on inside of us. The end of the song is the sound of Teedy returning to earth in the form of a giant baby in a bubble.

When you hear "Thought Eyes," you really think New York City and Lou Reed and The Strokes, and Birmingham seems miles away. How is it that Vulture Whale seems to transcend regional pigeonholing?
WM: Pigeonholing is for others to do on a band, not for a band to do on itself. If a band is pigeonholing itself, then it’s got two songs: the fast one and the slow one.
 
The best chance you have of transcending anything is to not think about it. We like music from all over the place. We are not the kind of people to have so much regional pride as to ignore the rest of the world. People are people. Good songs are good songs. It’s OK to put Skynard and The Talking Heads on the same mixed tape. In fact, it’s preferable. I don’t want to listen to a mix-tape with Skynard, Marshall Tucker, Hank Williams, Charlie Daniels and a whole Southern roster. Throw some New Order and a little World Party, Ride and The Stone Roses in there somewhere.

It's weird how people think that every band from Alabama is supposed to sound like Lynyrd Skynyrd. I mean, isn’t that your real question; “Why don’t you guys sound like Lynyrd Skynyrd?” Any honest music fan likes a band because of what comes out of the speakers, period. Where a band or act is from is not important. I’m sure it has something to do with why the music sounds like it does. But, who cares about the back story of a song. The song itself is the bottom line. I don’t care why the person wrote it, or what drugs he was on, or what studio he recorded it in, or if he’s gay or not, or whether he was born on the Bayou or on the Upper East Side.

There are more differences b/w New York and Alabama than I can count. New York City operates at the front of the world stage. Alabama and most of the South barely operate on a national stage. For this reason, I think people in NYC know a lot less about us than we do about them. New York is on everyone’s mind all the time. 'Bama, not so much. I’ve been to the Big Apple with my dad several times. He always says “ain't no place like this place no place.” And there ain’t. What a city and what diverse musical output. It’s wonderful. We are just as influenced by New York and beyond bands as we are Southern bands, if not more. But hey, we are from the South, and it shows, and that’s cool with us. But, we don’t try to play it up. There's a lot of that out there these days. A lot of those "three chords and the truth" type boys who have never once ridden a horse — "all hat and no caddle" motherf**kers. Your boots gotta be a little dusty to really pull off the country thing. We wear Adidas.

I think what makes Vulture Whale tick is how you can go from a balls-out rocker like "Guillotine" to a song like "Sum Yung Scientist," where the melodic charms are more subtle and unexpected. It's very disarming. Is that willingness to tweak things ever so slightly to produce something surprising a product of your influences or just a spark of inspiration that happens in the studio or when you're writing?
WM: There’s a lot going on and a lot of moods, colors, people and situations in the scenery around us at any time. There is plenty in this life to draw upon. Each end of the spectrum and everything in between is fair game. If we’re trying to do anything, it’s be interesting. Disarmament is also desirable. Spelling it all out for the listener neatly and expectedly is a waste of everyone’s lives.

You seem to have a way of developing female characters in songs like "Sugar" and "Head Turner" that speaks to both their defiance and strength, as well as their weaknesses. To what do you attribute that to?
WM: People are complicated. That goes for women too.

This is your sophomore effort. Talk about the differences and similarities between this new album and your first one.
WM: Our first album was less cohesive than the second. It was an experiment, a feeling out, a figuring out of how we are gonna work together. There were a lot of unknowns, as far as how we are gonna function as a unit and what our process is gonna be like. We had just moved into a new house and were still figuring out what light switches went with what lights. The second record, we were putting a new deck on the house, being more instinctual and more confident in those instincts and each other. The next record, we’re gonna put in a swimming pool and a flag pole. A real cloud tickler.

At the end of the day, what do want Vulture Whale to hang its hat on? Is it writing a catchy song, as you do so well, or do you want to write songs that people relate to? What would you like people to feel good about in listening to Vulture Whale?
WM: The songs have to be catchy for anybody to pay attention long enough to relate to them. Different people relate to different elements of any song anyway. Some people relate to obvious lyrics, but some people never listen to the lyrics and focus in on the drum beat or some other part of the music. When it gets right down to it, music has to feel good to your body first. It’s an involuntary reaction. It’s not something you go home and think about and wake up in the morning and have your mind made up. “Johnny was right, that is a good song. Though, I’m glad I got confirmation from my brain. Now I can go back to the club and cut that rug.”

As far as being artistically genuine, I want people to know that we’re honest when we’re lying to them. Above all, I just want people to turn it up when our song comes on. 

What's next for Vulture Whale?
WM: Somewhere, sometime, there it will be... up in the air, clearly not a bird or plane, the Vulture Whale coming to eat you.