The Kills’ Jamie Hince knows how to make things uneasy

Career-ending injuries are an everyday occurrence in sports — far less so in the arts. Yet, the Kills’ Jamie Hince faced that possibility beginning in 2013, when an injury to his left hand led to a bone infection and considerable pain.

Hince underwent six surgeries in three years, including a tendon replacement. Ultimately, he is unable to use the middle finger on that crucial guitar hand. Rather than fold, however, Hince focused on production and learned to adapt to his new reality, including learning to play his guitar differently, without the use of his middle finger.

Many of those adaptations found their way onto the Kills’ new record, Ash and Ice, a tense, driving album, which is one of the band’s best. The Pitch spoke with Hince last week about his adaptations and the new album ahead of the band’s Thursday show at the Midland.

The Pitch: How long did Ash and Ice take to create, from songwriting through recording?

Hince: It’s difficult to say because I was held up so much. The starting point for me was when I went on the Trans-Siberian express. I went away with lots of blank notebooks and came back with lots of filled ones.

That’s a long journey. Were you writing that entire time?

I’m not very focused in my writing. I have to write books and books and books of prose and pretty much nonsense, stream-of-consciousness stuff — but then it suddenly will turn into something else. Then I’ll go through it and a few lines will jump out to me, and I’ll start to write a song about it much later on, you know? That was in November-something 2012, but then not long after that I smashed my hand up, so everything stopped for a while.

That injury sounds like it was quite serious. What was your original reaction to it?

My initial reaction was that I just had slammed it into a car door — never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that a few years down the line I would not be able to move my finger. It’s the middle finger on my left hand. I have about 5 percent mobility, and it’s useless for playing guitar. But I don’t know — my reaction was weirdly positive about it. I never wanted it to bring me down. It surprised me how positive I was. I was kind of thinking, What do I do next? I wasn’t worried about whether I would play the guitar again. It was more of a determination thing, really. There was one point where I felt like maybe I wouldn’t play guitar again, so I just amassed a studio and just concentrated on that.

Did you have to learn to play with your other hand?

I had to learn to play differently. Chords, I can’t really play. I play more individual notes and have had to learn different ways to play chords. For me, ideas were always more important than ability anyway. I had to adapt my ideas a bit.

Do you think that the adaptations that you have had to make have had an effect on the way this record sounds?

Absolutely.

Is it carrying more single notes at a time? Your stuff has always been kind of minimalist.

Yeah. Like on “Doing It to Death,” I would have never done that before. I would have played something much more angular, with less individual notes, more chords. And “Doing It to Death” definitely came out of it [the injury]. There’s a lot more sonic layers on the record as well, more low-end bass. A lot of that came out because I couldn’t play guitar and I was just sitting around in my studio playing around with sound. I can definitely hear how all of my hindrances have made the record what it is.

You mentioned earlier that you were focusing more on production. Do you think that — there’s this colloquialism that someone who is blind has sharpened senses in other ways — do you think, since you couldn’t focus as much on guitar, that your abilities in production have improved?

Yeah, I think practically I just spent more time behind the mixing desk, creating things. I couldn’t work on the other side strapped to a guitar. I learned more about recording and about recording software. I just needed to learn. I can make music out of a chair — I just need the power to be able to understand what I’m doing. It opens a lot of doors.

Was it ever frustrating?

Yeah, definitely it was frustrating. It was frustrating to see the reactions around me. I felt like people were sort of losing interest. We were trying to do this record, and it was just constantly like, I have to go in for another surgery and can finish writing in another three months. It was frustrating for all of the people that work with us and for us. I’ve got responsibilities to people, to pay people. In my mind, that was the most frustrating thing. When a record takes this long, there’s a big financial impact.

And then Alison [Mosshart, the Kills’ singer], at one point, went off to do some recording with Dead Weather, and that was really the point for me where I was like, Oh, god. I’m getting left behind. But I got her back [laughs].

You did. I think this record is my favorite that you’ve put out.

Mine too. I’m always excited about the most recent thing I’ve put out, because it’s closest to what I’m trying to achieve. I think it’s really fantastic to play live. It’s a pleasure to play the new songs.

How do you edit? In my experience it’s easier to write something lengthy and then take it down.

Yeah, absolutely. There’s that line about where you have to drink an ocean to piss a cupful. That’s totally my notion. I’m much happier having 50 songs to choose from than working on, like, 12. Alison always says that’s my best skill is that I can edit things down. I know what to take out, and what to use. I would say that that kind of editing skill is more precious to me than musicianship.

When I’m taking pictures, I’m hopeless at it. I need to get someone else to edit it because I can’t see my own work. But with music, I’m confident with editing music.

Alison has described art as something that should be uneasy. How do you cultivate that feeling of suspense?

I don’t totally agree with that. Uneasy is something that maybe feels good if you are an outsider. You want people making art to sort of struggle. But to be honest I torture myself when I’m writing to the point where I am not good to be around, and I kind of cultivate unease pretty easily. That’s why I’m not drawn to it [laughs]. I am the creator of unease.

The Kills
Thursday, May 26
The Midland, 1228 Main