As soon as she joins the zoom, I tell Shannon Shaw of Shannon and the Clams that I am really nervous, tears already catching in my throat, because we have one of the worst things in common. In August 2022, she lost her fiancé Joe Haener in a horrific car accident, and through her grief, together with her bandmates, wrote and released the 2024 album The Moon is in the Wrong Place. Shannon and the Clams was founded in Oakland, and the band has performed at almost every Mosswood Meltdown festival (through all its iterations), which now has an extra special meaning for her. The band returns to Mosswood Park for the John Waters-hosted festival on Saturday, July 19, and Sunday, July 20.
We spoke about what the festival means to Shannon and Joe’s friends, and also, cried together a little.
This interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Tshego Letsoalo: Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me today. I will say that I was actually really nervous about talking to you because I knew I would get really emotional. I lost my husband last year and I know that’s what your last album is about. I also know that the album did turn one recently in May. How does it feel a year on with having it out in the world?
Shannon Shaw: Well, first of all, I just want to say thanks for sharing that with me. I feel like the album serves a lot of purposes. It's like because I have to put all this pain somewhere - I have to transform it in some way. And then it's also about connecting. It means a lot to me. I'm so sorry that it connects to you in that way. Now I'm going to cry. I cry all of the time. I go to a grief group. My friends call it grief club, which makes it more fun. And they taught me to never hold back tears, and to never deny that urge because, well, you shouldn't be denying yourself, and we shouldn't be afraid to show our feelings.
TL: I also just really admire you because I think that we have to put this shit somewhere, and you were vulnerable enough to put it somewhere and also put it out into the world, and then it becomes something that belongs to everybody else. Just the vulnerability of processing in real time and then also being like, ‘You can have this,’ to your fans.
SS: Yeah, I'm grateful that I have that option and ability. Something I think about all the time is, where would I be if I had no creative outlets? If I was a different person, if I was someone that didn't make music or art and didn't have good friends or, you know, what do normal people do when something like this happens? I feel like I've leaned on creativity so hard this whole time.
TL: Music was a strong part of your relationship, and sometimes I find that it can be a balm and sometimes it can be a landmine if you’re going along and a song comes on and then you’re like “oh my God, I’m going to cry.” Was there a shift for you knowing that music is a safe place but also a loaded landmine kind of place? Was that your experience?
SS: That's a really interesting way to put that. I mean, that's a powerful song that can bring you to your knees, like, anyone might want to write that. But we also know that a lot of the time it has to do with context and a memory. So the song could have nothing to do with the situation you're feeling, but your memory with this song brings you right back to this place.
I have an example of one of those landmines. It's all very strange, but when I was a little kid, I was raised on pretty much just oldies and country, but like ’50s girl groups and ’60s girl groups. And I was very fond of “Leader of the Pack” and those crazy car crash songs.
I was obsessed with teen love, and “losing-the-love-of-their-life” songs when I was a kid. And it just feels like so gnarly, horrible full circle that I was especially obsessed with those songs. But I have this core memory of having a dream when I was a little kid. I was probably six. And I had this dream that my boyfriend was drag racing. And I was begging him not to drag race, just like one of those stupid songs. And he ended up crashing and dying in the dream. But when I woke up, I was sobbing.
What happened is in the dream, my boyfriend's name was Sweet Tony Pie. And when I woke up, my alarm radio was playing and it was playing “Sweet Talkin' Guy” by The Chiffons. And that turned into Sweet Tony Pie, my boyfriend, the love of my life in my dream.
And when I hear “Sweet Talkin' Guy,” I get so emotional. And it's really crazy because my fiancé died in a horrendous car wreck. He was not drag racing, but yeah, that's my weird little landmine. And it just feels crushing and somehow in that crushing feeling, I think it also gives your mind and heart a minute to expand and blast out. So it's like this weird relief at the same time.
TL: Like you said, a lot of the ’60s girl group stuff is definitely in your sound, but also how did Oakland - the music scene here, the community here - how did that shape you as well?
SS: So I definitely have always loved ’60s music, and I think a big part of that is the vocals as another instrument. You can feel someone's emotions through their voice, and I cannot connect with music that doesn't do that, that doesn't have that voice or a voice that's conveying a feeling.
So I think that I started to get really connected to punk music because they're using the voice as an instrument, as a conduit to blast feelings out. And I think I really put that same admiration and wonder into punk. And Oakland has a rich history with punk and I definitely loved it. It's outsider music, at least the world that we were into. And I think I really identified with that. And also I started the band Shannon and the Clams in art school, and it was definitely a place where the freaks could go and do whatever they got to do. It felt like a really open, welcoming community. When I first started playing, I was just playing open mic nights by myself, not hardly knowing what I'm doing. And I was very much so embraced in all my imperfections, and I think that was a really kind and beautiful way to begin.
TL: You're coming back for Mosswood Meltdown, which speaks to a lot of what you're talking about. It still feels like out of all the festivals in the Bay Area this is the gritty, punkiest one. This is the very Oakland festival. What does it mean to you?
SS: I've played it since the beginning. In the beginning it was called Total Trash Fest, and it was at a bar in the Lower Mission. And then it eventually became the Burger Boogaloo. And then in 2021 or 2022 it became Mosswood Meltdown. So I've played all the iterations. I think I've only missed like two years. But it is my favorite festival, and I do think that it totally captures that spirit - the really open, raw, wild, free, creative spirit. And you have a pretty wide variety of music and art, and the way people dress up is so cool. There's a lot of effort.
It feels like a homecoming every time I play. So Joe, my fiancé, played drums in my solo band. And he was a vegetable farmer. But the last show he ever played was at the Meltdown, and that was the last place most people saw him because he passed away just a few weeks later. So being there - and he was such a big part of it - you feel his spirit there. It feels like he's there also, and I love that.
TL: You are currently on tour, is touring conducive to creating music as well? Are you working on new stuff? Are you focusing on touring and then going to take a break? What's next?
SS: I will go ahead and say that touring is not conducive to writing. Not for me. Songs come to me when I'm moving alone, if I'm driving in a car with no music on. That's when melodies start soaring into my head. Also, I 100% write with my whole soul, and it's like everything I write is coming from a real place. And I have to be in a physical location where I can channel that and where I can be really tender and vulnerable. I have some downtime in October and November, so I am working on a solo album.
It's weird because it's exhausting and I'm overwhelmed a lot, but also I don't know what I would do if all of a sudden the gods were like, “You need to stop making music now.” But it is interesting, having the grief and being on the road. I just had a few months off after Joe died and then went right back into touring a lot. And at the time it felt like the right move. Because, I imagine you could maybe identify with this, but having something I had to be doing, that was very good for me because if I didn't have a plan I would start to feel out of control. I mean, losing the love of your life and losing your future, and all of your plans falling apart, that's a real lack of total control.
[both of us in tears]
TL: Ok, I’ll throw you a softball! When you get to Oakland, what are some of the first things that you have to do?
SS: I have to go to Tacos Oscar. That was Joe's best friend, Oscar, and every now and then he has Joe's beans on the menu because Joe had a really good bean recipe. Mostly, I'm trying to meet up with my friends 'cause I miss them so much. I do like going to the lake and I like going to a couple record stores that friends own, like 1-2-3-4 Go! The Oakland Museum is pretty special. And I love Eli's Mile High Club, they've done a really good job there. Or like The New Parkway, I've seen lots of movies and I've gone to lots of Q&As there. You're really making me miss it!
