GREGG DEAL OF DEAD PIONEERS

Through art, music and activism, proud pyramid lake paiute tribe man gregg deal remains true to his ideals. a verdant defender of the truth, and WHOSE strength is only matched by his humility. as an indigenous artist, caring father, and stanch community member, the messages he along with fellow bandmates josh rivera, abe brennan (guitar), shane zweygardt (drums), and lee tesche (bass) extol, is one of defiance, support, inclusivity, and legacy. the power of art in all its many facets is the driving force behind the awareness they promote, the injustices they rail against, and change in societal attitudes they demand, as their latest record po$t american champions.

Hi Gregg and thanks for taking the time out to speak with us at Musicology. Your latest record PO$T AMERICAN is a scathing assessment of politics past and present. Although the record focuses on the issues within modern society and very recent events within the current political landscape, it also is anchored by long-standing ills within Western society. What was your vision for the album in terms of addressing the old and the new and the seemingly insurmountable impasse of a disjointed and disharmonious society that feels destined to repeat history?

You know, oddly, to Native people, the old and new live in the same space. Particularly when the “old” still affects you in so many ways as colonialism and Western perspective has. James Baldwin said, “History is not the past. It is the present. We carry our history with us. We are our history. If we pretend otherwise, we are literally criminals.” From the title track, PO$T AMERICAN, to Mythical Cowboys, to even Juicy Fruit, all taking from things that are from the past, the stories are still relevant, and in many cases, has shown itself back to the front. I mean, with Kevin Costner, we’ve got from Dances With Wolves from the early 90’s right back into his romantic nationalistic westward expansion dribble. Still relevant.

The overall vision for PO$T AMERICAN is truth. Unfettered and unapologetic truth. Whether truth in narrative, truth in my own experiences and perspective, or truth in a collective feeling, it is here and rings throughout the record. The anger is there for many things, as is the pain and compassion needed in LGBTQ discussion. The inequity of patriarchy lorded over women and femmes, and the constant desire to steal from Native people. The statements of fascist cults, and the solid and unapologetic statement of STFU (previously called Nice Racism). These are all things easily seen. My hope in all this is the solidarity in it. That sense of duty, truth, and shared ideas hopefully lives in a place of solidarity, community, compassion, and love.

You speak on behalf of all those who are marginalised, and as a North American indigenous man, where do you see American politics and the indigenous voice within it?

First, I don’t believe I speak on behalf of all those who are marginalized. I speak what I believe is true, from my perspective and opinion as a Numu, a member of my tribal community, Pyramid Lake Paiute Tribe, and member of the human race. I’m just saying what so many of us believe to be true.

I am of the belief that Indigenous people have the greatest stake in what happens on these, our homelands. I am not sure anyone realizes that the Indigenous people of this continent have been here for thousands of years. These are our traditional homelands, and we care what happens on it. Half the reason we are often pushing for environmental understanding is based on our core understanding of how important Earth is to all of us. Despite colonialism, racism, westward expansion, theft, broken treaties, or federal trust obligations, we still call ourselves stewards of these lands.

At the very least, I am a citizen of the United States, good, bad, or indifferent. I am beholden to the power structures inside this country, but also have the right (at least at the moment) to speak to those things I believe are important or right. While the moral fortitude of a country like the United States of America is in question with evidence pointing towards a moral void wrapped in imperialism and colonization, I still must do what I can to fight, right? If I have a space or platform, am I not bound to use it to say the quiet things out loud? Particularly when the politics of the US has turned into the caricature it has, seeing the outward danger placed upon America’s working class, along with how it affects others in the world? I can't do much, but I can say something. I can make art, write words, speak them out loud. How could I not? Indigenous voices especially must speak, fight, and do what we can to.

The single off the album and title track, “PO$T AMERICAN” was written after events with your son on Independence Day. Can you elaborate as a father how you feel about the world your son is inheriting and the broader topic of generational pain that, if not healed in the preceding years, is perpetually carried forward?

Yeah, I wrote this song during White American day of Independence, during fireworks. He was listening to something that I don’t much like, and I was writing sometime to show that I could do better. LOL! A little father/son row for fun. Oddly, it was also an important moment, talking to my 15 year old on why I would call it “white Independence”, looking at how this country was formed, and how it always excluded other people that were not white men, as women are even excluded from so much in these so-called founding documents. This discourse is important in my own household, that my children might understand the world around them, the history, the present, hopefully preparing them for the future. Even if my kids don’t get in to a position of power or speaking out, they’ll have the tools to continue to survive, understanding themselves, their family, and how important it is to carry these things forward. We are responsible for the information we have, how we carry it and say it out loud. As I find places better for me and my family, I hope they find those places as well, improving things with each generation. Life is hard, pain is certain, how we deal with that is rooted in our knowledge of self, where we are (environment), finding peace in love, compassion, and community.

What cultural fundamentals form the guiding principles in the way you approach your craft, and in what ways do you personally feel you are you championing for your people?

I own my own narrative. I would never assume to speak for anyone. This may allow for articulating a shared experience, and I recognize that, but at the end of the day, the truth is the truth, and my perspective or opinion is my own. Having the freedom to say words out loud in any format that I’m able is a privilege my forebearers didn’t have when met face to face with the colonial machine. I must approach my craft deliberately, carefully, unapologetically rooted in my own understanding with a willingness to recognize my own inadequacies, promising to be better tomorrow than I am today. Truth, community, compassion, grace… I aspire to have these things always. I’m doing my best.

Was music for you the outlet that allowed you to find your voice and express all that is important to you?

I’ve been a visual artist for over 20 years. Within that I have been speaking publicly for 12 years both through my work, spoken word, outward activism, and public speaking. Music is this incredible love I’ve always had, but have never had a chance to dive into as a viable medium of expression. So much of what I’m doing in Dead Pioneers with my four guys, Abe, Shane, Lee, and Josh (who is also an Indigenous person) is fed by my years of advocating, fighting, and speaking out towards Indigenous liberation and equal rights amidst political understanding. Being able to do that in this medium specifically has been pretty incredible, to be honest, and pushes me to dig deeper in to that discussion of what’s happening, what’s important, and how best to articulate in a way that keeps the integrity of my voice in my work for over twenty years.

There is a certain captive power that comes from including spoken word on any musical project, and an extra level of consideration is required based on the careful choice of words selected to garner maximum impact. When you approach this as you do on PO$T AMERICAN, what were the driving forces that steered you toward the spoken word elements?

I can’t sing. Ha, ha, ha, ha. Mostly, that’s the reason, but discovering my own voice has become something that has been exciting in this process too. Initially, we were looking for a way to do spoken word with punk riffs, as opposed to jazz or some kind of ambience music. The enunciated articulation of this type of delivery is impactful, however. I don’t think anything we’re writing is lost at all. What you hear is what you get. Storytelling also becomes an effective way to articulate points, opinions, ideas or messages. This has been the case for Native people for as long as we’ve existed, and still remains true.

As a proud Pyramid Lake Paiute man, what localised struggles are you currently facing and in what ways is this impacting your tribe?

Land grabs for resources, sovereignty, self determination and cultural preservation which would include languages. The land grabs for resources, which includes drilling, mining, fracking, or even trying to place pipelines across treaty lands, are something most tribes are dealing with at the moment. In the area of my people, the fight over the Thacker Pass Lithium Mine has been a tough one. Overall, environmental issues, and preservation of one's culture tends to be pretty big issues.

You have used art as a powerful means to express yourself, the issues you face and as a connection to your ancestry. Can you explain the unique way in which you approach your artwork, its personal meaning and the broader context of what you hope to achieve through your art?

There are a few things here. There is a belief that artists are medicine people. To be a creator of things is important. There are a number of specific ways this translates into a number of different culture ideas. I recognize my own cultural ties, and fully recognize my responsibility to that. With that said, I also recognize my own agency in all I do and how I do it. Figuring myself out, and my place, and how I want to emote, identify, or express is part of the process, and have found a journey that is wholeheartedly mine. We all start in our own inadequacies and hopefully work up towards a place of authenticity of our voices, our process, and our work. I have found this to be a difficult, but meaningful process of open and honest conversations with myself. I am critically thinking of where I am, always, while also wanting to challenge my own ideas and perception of self. Making deliberate decisions on what goes out into the world as I genuinely do my best as an artist having a human experience. This is all of me. It’s tied to my own identity as a Native person, to be sure, but it’s also in a place of genuine experience as a human being. I don’t believe myself to be special, but believe I can find uniqueness in my journey and hopefully articulate that visually, musically, or otherwise. Everything I do is personal to me, which may or may not mean anything to anyone. I know I stand by it and will always strive to do my best in that articulation. I hope to achieve good art. Little else.

Having moved from Washington DC to Colorado, how has the relocation helped with your art, both in terms of visual and musical?

Honestly, and probably in the least sexy way, economy. DC isn’t a space that has a sustainable community for art. There are pockets of people, but I found that much of our success there was built upon folks and groups of folks working together to build something. The financial resources of this ebb and flow in ways that make it hard for artists to have sustainable income. Colorado has a burgeoning art scene, particularly in Denver. I’ve found my ability to make a living easier here than in DC where the main industry is government. The thing that has helped me most with my work is space, freedom to do what I want or need to do, and support from those that help me along and enable me to continue to do my work. I get that here in Colorado for sure. The musical enabling has come as a result of being around creatives and facilitators of creatives, giving me access to things I might not otherwise have. Finding like-minded folks in music that want to entertain my ideas has grown into what you see here, and I’m so grateful for it. I don’t think this happens without community.

If there is one message you would like to convey above all others, what would that single vision look like to you?

I’m not sure how to answer this. I suppose I don’t think in ways of an agenda. Everything is related, and everything I’m doing is meant to be true. Maybe that makes a difference. Maybe it doesn’t. I’ve thought a lot about legacy in this respect, and I’m not really interested in that. Maybe I will have a legacy, and maybe I won’t. This thing I do, it’s all I have. I feel compelled to do it, always. I want to provide for my family. I want to be surrounded by people I love, and hopefully love me back. I will always create, but I also see my work as a means to express myself in as many avenues as possible. It feels more for me than anyone else. Perhaps you get to see it. Maybe it means something to you. Maybe it doesn’t. It’s strange having any public presence because it’s never been my goal to have that. I want what I do to matter. I want what I do to have integrity for who I am as a person. If that means there is notoriety or recognition, then it’s just part of the effort, but not the goal. With all of that said, I don’t think I have a message, except one of love. As goofy as it sounds, I recognize that the only way I can succeed is to be loved by those that would trust my vision, trust my effort, and not just enable me in my own work, but in many ways be an accomplice to my life’s work. I absolutely see where I have a charmed life to have that around me. This is not to diminish the difficulty of getting to this point and how hard I’ve worked to get here, but recognizing that I have privileged built over the career of my work. Being able to do Dead Pioneers is not only a cherry on top, but is representing a significant amount of my life where I have learned, strived, and done my very best to do good work. Or at least as good as I am able. Dead Pioneers is becoming everything to me as all of these things I’ve worked towards suddenly represents itself in the most unlikely place. I’m grateful for it.