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The Great Fiction
Anatomy Of A Collective

Throughout history, church basements have served as an unlikely source of musical muse. Perhaps it is the search for spirituality that slides down the rows of pews and seeps through the floorboards, spilling into the choirboy’s kick drum and leaving droplets of belief on the cymbals and snare. Perhaps it is the communal search for faith and meaning left over from a particularly powerful sermon that patiently creeps down the steps, finding consolation in the worn strings of a vintage guitar. When these instruments were woken up by the imaginative hooks and melodies of metro-Detroit-based band The Great Fiction ten years ago, the church could have never predicted what form the gospel was going to take.

“We all grew up and learned how to play music in church,” says Philip Zott, the fluidly outspoken drummer of the band, who is accompanied by his brother, Daniel Zott (guitar/vocals) and fellow bandmate Jonathon Neme (guitar/keyboards) at a small café in downtown Royal Oak on a bustling Thursday afternoon. “It was a Pentecostal church, so the songs would go on for hours at a time — we had a six-hour service once.” The musically injected, lively atmosphere bred a spontaneous chemistry between the longtime friends, combining gospel roots with an adolescent attraction to rock music. As The Great Fiction began concocting original compositions in ’97, the need to record their creations was sufficed by Ben West, a friend of a friend who shared a cathedral upbringing and brought the knowledge of engineering and recording into the picture. “He really liked what we were doing, and we liked what he was doing for us,” says Daniel Zott, whose shaggy appearance and friendly demeanor act as almost magnetic qualities. “We eventually invited [West] to play bass for us” after West’s work on the band’s freshman and sophomore efforts, Applying the Mathematics and Screaming Through the Newspeak.

The transition into a fully functional band proved watertight, and the group would eventually trade in their church studio dwelling for another humble studio at West’s house in Eastpointe. The gently riveting and swelling six-string assault of The Great Fiction’s melodically layered musicianship would passionately erupt on Slow Progress for Simplicity, their third and most notable LP. The album grabbed the attention of major labels across the country and even resulted in the band performing at a showcase for a subsidiary of EMI. Regardless of the amount of love the labels displayed, the suits fell short on ideas of how to promote a group that was reluctant to tour and supposedly lacked radio hits. “They just wanted to pat us on the back,” explains D. Zott. “They loved what we were doing, but they didn’t know how to market us to the masses. We understand that and it doesn’t blow us away, but unfortunately, these guys are wildly out of touch.”

Believe it or not, The Great Fiction was strangely relieved. With Neme recently returning from a ten-week stint in the Middle East and West traveling back and forth from New York to L.A. to produce other bands, the group is anything but built for a long stretch on the road. Although the band certainly doesn’t lack the chops to perform live, the band believes its main strengths are cradled within the sanctity of the mixing board. “We’re total studio junkies,” says P. Zott. “Recording has always been our thing, and it makes more sense for us to do the publishing side of things.” Indeed, The Great Fiction has successfully tackled an emerging sector of the new rock ‘n’ roll economy that is becoming rampantly commonplace, and at the same time, demolishing the passé notion of selling out. With the support of Chrysalis Music Publishing, an international powerhouse publisher who places the music of such acts as My Morning Jacket and Gnarls Barkley in a variety of media outlets, The Great Fiction have been able to make money by having their music placed in movies and commercials without departing from their metro-Detroit domain. “If you don’t want to tour and you want to be a recording artist primarily,” explains P. Zott, “then doing TV spots is just something that you have to accept as part of the new paradigm.” Adds D. Zott, “In a perfect world, we would make money in a different way and there would be no record labels. But we were born in a time where record labels rule, and now we’re seeing them lose a lot of their power and bands are adjusting.”

Regardless of what page The Great Fiction decides to turn, there is a sense of camaraderie that runs through the elaborate wiring of their Eastpointe studio and into their veins — an undeniable mixture of technicality, chemistry and personal connection that stretches back to their faithful beginnings in the basement of their Pentecostal church. “Everything we do is a collective more so now than ever,” explains D. Zott. “It’s not just trust and respect — I want to see what we are all going to add to change what we’ve done and take it somewhere else.”  | RDW

The Great Fiction CD release w/ Mason Proper & Javelins • 8/23 • The Magic Bag

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Hiding Under Covers
Documenting The Great Fiction

Kevin Mattison of Detroit-based Test Pattern Pictures originally befriended Daniel Zott after swimming through the cyber canals and stumbling across the melodic, atmospheric awesomeness of The Great Fiction. Mattison was immediately attracted to The Great Fiction’s anti-road warrior attitude and overall humble character. “[The Great Fiction] is not the kind of band to hit the road and tour, or really even talk about themselves at all and it often works towards their own detriment,” explains Mattison. “I empathized, because I don’t really like talking about myself either, but I wanted to help them build an image.” Combine the easygoing nature of both parties, and Mattison’s idea to document the band was kindled almost instantly.

“It all started when [Test Pattern Pictures] were working on a short film,” explains Daniel Zott of The Great Fiction. “I did a score for the movie, and [Mattison] ended up liking it, and the friendship kept going. At one point, he wanted to document what we were doing so they started bringing cameras to shows and to the studio.” The groundwork for Hiding Under Covers was laid down, and during the entire process, the style of the band was hardly cramped. “It was a really natural progression. It’s not like we sat down and thought about doing this.”

The main benefit of Hiding Under Covers is its ability to represent the band without forcing them to “hit the road and eat fast food every day.” By managing to capture the warm yet shy personalities of The Great Fiction, and also critically harm any doubts of their activeness in the studio taking away from a live show, Mattison’s portrayal of the group is a 45-minute crash course on a musical thunderstorm that has been lurking over Detroit for the past decade. “I wanted to portray the band exactly as they are — a bunch of good guys who happen to also be incredibly good at what they do,” says Mattison.  | RDW


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