One more for the soulmate dreamers: Black Rebel Motorcycle Club interview

You can tell their passion for music by seeing them play, and know that they are good with words from listening to their lyrics. But just passing them on a city street, you’d never know from their dark sunglasses and, yes, ubiquitous black leather jackets that the guys of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club are thoughtful, well-spoken and articulate, and also some of the best interviewees that I’ve yet had the pleasure of chatting with.

Peter Hayes and Robert Levon Been were friends as teenagers in the San Francisco Bay Area (yay!). Robert is from the Boulder Creek/Felton area as a kid, and Peter spent his teenage years all over the East Bay – Concord, Daly City, Oakland, Lafayette. The guys met in high school, shortly after Peter had just gotten out of the morale-shattering tumult of the Brian Jonestown Massacre.

Along with drummer Nick Jago, a transplanted Brit, they decided to form a band and first played together in 1998. Their original name was The Elements, but after a few months they changed their name to Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, taking the moniker from Marlon Brando’s group of young ruffians in the 1953 movie The Wild One.

The nascent BRMC recorded a demo album independently in 1999 which quickly circulated and generated a buzz at home and abroad. Owing to the energy of their live shows, the quality of their songwriting and perhaps the impressive range of influences that echoed some of the best sounds of decades past, they were signed by Virgin and their self-titled debut album was released in 2001. After their Screaming Gun EP of b-sides that same year, they’ve been pretty regular in offering a release every two years — Take Them, On Your Own in 2003, the folk/blues/acoustica of Howl in 2005, and the anthemic haze of this year’s Baby 81.

Before they rocked the Monolith Festival last weekend, Peter [guitar/vocals] and Robert [bass/vocals] took a good chunk of time from their grueling pre-show demands (mostly drinking Red Bull I think, and doing other interviews) to sit down at a little table backstage at Red Rocks with me to talk, in-depth and from the heart, about music.

BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB INTERVIEW
I’d be remiss to not note your awesome roots in the Bay Area. As a San Jose girl myself, I have to ask — do you ever miss things about the Bay Area now that you’ve left for the shining shores of LA? Those great venues like The Fillmore or the Purple Onion …

Robert: Purple Onion! Yeah, we played the Purple Onion lots of times. You know Tom? That crazy fucker? He was that eccentric owner. He’d introduce the bands, and he called us the Black Leather Jacket Gang when we first played there. Couldn’t get the name right. Or he didn’t wanna get the name right.

Peter: (in a nasally voice) “You’ve got the coolest name ever man! Black Leather Jacket Gang, that’s awesome!“

Robert: I think it was the first time we were ever announced . . . we were called The Elements for about nine months and then we changed it. And that was like our first gig as Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, and aw, they just took a piss with it. Definitely it was a scary name to try and introduce.

It helps to have a good name, a lot, but that’s all stuff you’ve probably read about. There’s just a lot of great history with that film that we kind of ended up learning later. I mean, it was the first real [depiction of] what rock and roll took, like kind of the spirit of it and the imagery. I mean The Beatles got their name from it –maybe– and Elvis took, you know, his whole look from a lot of it. It’s a kind of campy film, but in its time it was a really edgy cool thing.

Since you are here in Colorado, I wanted to ask you about an article I read that cited the “beat poet scene of Denver” as one of your influences. Now, other than sharing the title of an album with the Allen Ginsberg poem (Howl), is there a direct influence of his work in your music?

Peter: As far as the beat poets themselves and all that – I’m not real schooled on that stuff and we don’t have a whole lot of knowledge of who lived where. But from my understanding –could be absolutely wrong– the beat generation (even though they didn’t want that label, just as the label of rock and roll isn’t something you necessarily want or look for), they were talking out and speaking against things that they felt the need to speak out against and speak up.

So yeah, we’re fans of that. Not sure if they were the first – you know there were other people before that . . . I mean you can even call Jesus a rebel and a revolutionary. But we’re into that thought, and getting back to that idea and ideal of living.

So the title of your album was a direct nod to that?

Peter: It was a direct nod to that idea, which is speaking out against whatever you feel the need to speak out against.

Robert: And also that album is heavier on the lyrical side and poetry side. Some of the songs were poems before they were songs, and then they were . . . that thing of hoping that poetry could be more present in rock and roll music, and just the fantasy that there’s something more to say than what maybe it’s being used for a lot of the time.

I find it interesting how a lot of critics couldn’t seem to conceptualize how Howl fit in with your “sound.” There was all this commotion about how different it was from your first two albums. Was that hard for you guys why people couldn’t just, I don’t know, allow different kinds of music to come out of you without having to extrapolate out what this meant for your sound or your career?

Robert: I like the tug and the pull, and I like that that was put on the table, because it’s something that people should talk about, you know, why musicians and bands aren’t more free to be musicians and to experiment and do more, and just the fact that it was a shocking thing to discuss, “Who wants this sound? Who wants that?” I think it’s good to have that example for other bands to push things, but it’s also a shame.

We were nervous about it for sure because we knew the reality of the music business today; it’s about repeating one thing over and over again, and make as much money doing it as possible. We weren’t sure of the fans who loved us would want anything to do with us after Howl. Turns out that wasn’t the case, there was really strong support for the most part. That was a really, really nice feeling after being nervous for such a long time. Before we even started recording it, it was in the back of our mind, you now, just because we love it doesn’t mean anyone else will love it. But it ended up working out really well in the end. It was a good reminder to trust the passion of music.

Peter: It was a surprise and it is a sign that the state of things is not good, it’s a sad thing that it was even such an issue. It should be kind of obvious for anyone, we all want to express our freedom, and that’s all it should be taken as. If you like it or don’t like it, so be it.

Robert: We had to be really honest with ourselves though – there’s a lot of bands I love that had done the kinda “different” record, the experimental record, where you could tell that the band loved that sound or that style, but that they couldn’t quite make it work or pull it off. So their heart kind of got in front of their ability to actually really make something worthwhile. So, I think that’s why we waited so long – that record wouldn’t have been so good if it came out as our first or second album, we needed time to grow up and write better. I think if we’d gotten too excited and wanted to do something free and different without any holding ourselves accountable . . . I think we really needed to hold ourselves accountable.

Robert, you’ve said “People forget that the ‘roll’ is as important as the ‘rock’” and Peter, you’ve said that you are continuing to write a growing stash of new acoustic tunes. Do you think you’ll do another full album in the Howl vein, or integrate the folksy, bluesier stuff along with the rockers next time around?

Peter: I don’t know if this is possible, but when I think of albums, I think of a soundtrack, where you create a work with, say, an acoustic song next to a wall of guitars, just noise, no singing at all, next to a song that’s punky, whatever you want to call it. That to me is what makes sense. We’ve always been tryin to dodge the “Well, they sound like that . . . they sound like this,” – I want to be able to include all those types of music on an album and have that make sense. I think that would make sense to our fans. But I don’t really know! It’s hard to really talk about because to each his own, really.

I mean, a lot of people don’t like Howl. A lot of our fans didn’t like Howl. A lot of our fans really loved it. A lot of people got really turned on by it, a lot of people got turned off. A lot of people hate this one because they loved Howl. But what’s amazing is that we’ve made music that has turned people off and turned people on and we’re the same fuckin band. You know what I mean? That’s cool. We haven’t grabbed one big huge chunk of people that want that one sound – that to me is great. It’s up to the listener to be open to it, it’s not our job. Our job is just to do what the fuck we want in playing music, and it’s up to people to have ears to listen and be open to new things. It’s not our job to tell people how to hear.

Robert: I’m surprised more people don’t go along with the ride, as it should be. They’re very judgmental, quick to decide. I hear a lot of people talking and ranking, you know, “I like this one better than this one, which isn’t quite as good as that one.” But they’re all coming from the same place? So I don’t know why it’s . . . I mean they’re all good and bad for different reasons, but they’re all The Ride. Why not just enjoy the ride? It’s like being all uptight during the ride, like [scrunches up shoulders] “I don’t like this dip in the road right now.” But no, there’s this really cool turn coming right in a few seconds.

I agree with everything Pete is saying, especially the soundtrack idea as being the highest thing to achieve, something that emotionally can go from one extreme to the next, but kind of not be too tied down to one thing. That’s the only way you can keep a consistent kind of forward motion. But then again I don’t want to say what the next one’s gonna be because I don’t want to have that much control over it. I mean, whatever’s gonna come is not going to be really up to me so much, or Pete, or Nick, individually, but we all kinda let go of the wheel.

With Baby 81, if we thought about it too much we would have probably gone crazy: “What are we gonna do after this record that was so different?” And then thankfully Nick came back and we did “Took Out A Loan” and “666″ in one day, one take. No one was talking, sayin a fuckin word, it just happened. We followed that and made ten more songs like it. I don’t know — that’s the most natural and innocent the music can be, and that’s our job to let the music be that. It can be a natural extension, something that’s not too conceptualized or pulled in one direction because your head wants it to go there and your heart wants it to go someplace else. And we’re the only ones that can get in the way of that, you can blame other people, but it’s you allowing it or not.

Like the next record, I was actually thinking . . . I’m curious to hear what we’d sound like if we took a little time to let things evolve because we haven’t done that for awhile. We’ve done all records pretty fast, just kinda pushing to finish the next one and the next one. So I’m just curious to hear what we’d sound like with time to let things breathe and kind of come around in their own time.

I wanted to talk a little bit about your perceptions of the British media feeding frenzy throughout your career, and specifically the early buzz Noel Gallagher generated for you when he told MOJO magazine that you guys were his favorite band, and he wanted to sign you guys to his own [Brother Records] label. That must have been a bit crazy for you. Did you ever consider taking him up on it?

Peter: We considered it only to the point that we didn’t want to be anybody’s band. We didn’t want to be a record company’s band, or a guy at the record company’s band. That was the only reason we didn’t follow that up because we wanted to stand on our own. We don’t belong to Virgin [who they eventually signed with] and we don’t belong to who we’re with now. They don’t own us. Record companies make your lives a little bit easier, as far as, you know, you’ve got your rent paid. They make your art a little bit harder, but they make your life a little bit easier. [laughs heartily]

None of that really sunk in for me with though [with Noel Gallagher]. I was never that big of a fan — I became a bigger fan, but at first I didn’t understand it, it’s not for me. But then I went over there and I saw that it was for a huge amount of people, a lot of people loved it. So I give them respect, it touched the people somehow, I’ll give that to them absolutely. I respect that.

And it was nice of him, you know, him saying that? A lot of people would come to us and say, “I heard about you through Noel Gallagher,” and that’s amazing, that’s lovely to have. That feels like a community of artists, as far as someone who is at that level saying, “Check these guys out, I like this” – Having that is great, we try to do the same thing now for bands that we like. So that, in itself, that is how it’s supposed to be.

Robert: Music just carries a bigger weight in [British] society or culture, at least for the time being, and it has for awhile. It’s the good and bad that come with that. You know, people’s voices are heard and the media is stronger, and it’s a community that’s actually . . . can be inspiring and infuriating at the same time. But I’d rather have that than just a kind of place that doesn’t care so much, where music doesn’t really matter so much. The States kind of feel like that — there’s lots of places that have it a lot worse, but music’s not as built in to the [U.S.] network as far as the culture. They’ve got a ton of, say, television shows over there [in the UK] that are constantly showing different bands playing and there’s only a few over here.

Peter: It’s amazing, they have so much crap over there, and you know, they gave us a lot of their crap, as far as “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire,” or “Who Wants To Be The Next Pop Idol.” That all started over there … but it’s all bullshit! But it seems like our filter in America is just like, “Oh let’s just take the shit. The nonsense.” But over there they also have another side of it, that they have a good side too, they have both sides. Over here it’s weird how we siphon out the good stuff and just go for the shit. I don’t know why we do that.

We’ll make the last question massive. Do you see art and commercialism as being fundamentally at odds?

Robert: Oh, God. Well the question isn’t that hard to answer. We’d all want to live in a place where it wasn’t a music business, it wasn’t a film business, it was just people making music, making films, and it was their art form and it wasn’t controlled and tampered with by all these other elements. But the long answer to your question is how do you blend the two together in a world where you have to. We could be here for a while. [both laugh]

Peter: Your question is, are they fundamentally at odds? Fundamentally, yes. Money gets in the way of all of it. They don’t belong together . . . [pauses] . . . but it’s okay? I think it’s okay that it does? Kind of? [laughs] Because good things can come from money, I guess, because the world has decided to live that way.

Robert: It is kind of that ‘asleep at the wheel’ mentality. It’s not the industry itself, but the bigger society around it that’s – it’s the byproduct of society, not the other way around. It’s a Catch-22. No one really knows why some people settle for just sleepwalking, but it affects music and everything else.

I’ve always been kind of naïve or youthfully angry and rebellious against the music industry. You know, all those beginning thoughts you have when you’re like, “Fuck corporations, capitalism,” all that. But then T Bone Burnett was talking to us and he’s a good guy with a good heart. He was talking to us about trying to buy Sun Records and relaunch it and do it the right way and get the right people behind it, and for one glimpse I was truly inspired by that idea of that record label. We were just finishing Howl and he wanted to bring us on if it went through.

I was really excited about getting behind a brand that meant something. My imagination started sparking as far as I would want to make different great music and videos to represent this label and help it become what it would want to become, for the albums to have the same strength.

When you sign to a major label, the mentality can just kind of be “I wanna get mine, and get out,” in a way. It’s a survivalism thing that has nothing to do with connection to other people. But talking to him, I just got this vision that a label could be a beautiful, inspiring thing and I never even had a glimpse that that could be a reality, kind of growing up with labels that were always deemed the enemy or the devil, something you constantly had to fight against to keep your sanity and your art intact. That’s not the way it should be, and it doesn’t have to be. You realize, wow, we’re a long way from what could be, and yeah the music suffers from there on.

Peter: What’s frustrating is that you make a record –tons of bands do, you make art in a way you consider to be art of some sort– and you put it out and if it doesn’t do well, all of a sudden there’s no longer any support for you. And that’s a shame. I think government should be funding the arts – I guess Canada does it a bit, they cherish and take care of art and nurture it in a way. That’s unbelievably cool. Here we nourish those who’ve made it, and if you can’t be proven to have made it, you’re left by the wayside. So that’s wrong. That’s just wrong, that’s destruction of our culture.

And by following what you love, what you believe in, you have to be careful because your love can change. Next thing you know, your love turns into money. You know, this “I love what my music can get me.” Almost to a point of self-destruction, we’re so afraid of turning into that little asshole, you know? We’re like, is there money involved? Well make that go away. Make sure that goes somewhere else.

Robert: Just to finish that thought, it’s similar to what I was saying earlier about the label. It’s kind of trying to get away from self and not having it just be about ourselves and making money, but about the bigger community. Even when I’ve looked at, okay, you could make an indie label, stand for something new, get a bunch of great bands together and go really far. But you just know in the back of your mind, if you actually do make enough money it’s bound that it’s gonna be sold out from under you because someday it’s just gonna be an offer someone can’t refuse. You can’t even follow that dream because you know how it ends. . .

* * * * *
Pete pulls out a lighter from Cleveland brandished with ‘Rock N Roll’ and a red electric guitar on the front. With a self-effacing laugh, he points it out, and says, “See? Put a little stamp on a lighter. And that’s rock and roll.”

LISTEN: BLACK REBEL MOTORCYCLE CLUB
BENICASSIM, SPAIN – 7/22/07
RADIO 3 BROADCAST (it adds atmosphere, and lets you practice your Español)
Berlin
Stop
Spread Your Love
The Show Is About To Begin
Six Barrel Shotgun
Ain’t No Easy Way
Weapon Of Choice
Whatever Happened To My Rock ‘n’ Roll
Need Some Air
American X
All You Do Is Talk

ZIP: BRMC AT BENICASSIM

Interview with Nate Ruess from The Format

All you need to know about what a show from The Format is like can be learned by watching this (bouncy, sometimes too loud) video that I shot on Friday night at the Gothic Theatre:

THE FORMAT: “THE FIRST SINGLE” (live 9/7/07)

Don’t you just want to be a part of that? Yes, yes you do.

The concert was every bit as fantastic as I was expecting (a few more pics here) and I was pleased to get a chance to catch up with Nate Ruess, the frontman of the group. The Format was formed in 2001 by Nate and his longtime friend Sam Means; they make great music.

A FEW QUESTIONS WITH NATE RUESS
Me: One of my favorite songs from you guys is “The First Single,” where you sing “You know the night life is just not for me.” However, you have chosen this nightclub-rock&roll-saturated 2am lifestyle, at least for now. Do you find it draining or do you love it? Or both?

Nate: We are fairly boring people so I’m still sticking to our guns on this one. And because we are so boring I think the “rock n roll” lifestyle gets to us really quickly. Unless it involves watching a good movie. Then I am game.

Denver is honored to be the last proper show of the long-running tour for Dog Problems. What’s next for you guys after this?

Gonna take a break from touring and being in a band, and try to write and make a record all at the same time I’m looking forward to it. But the first thing on my mind is finishing the tour.


Now, no pressure (who am I kidding, I’m eager) — but are you already working on writing a follow-up to Dog Problems?

Yeah we have five or so songs in their incubent stage. I’m anxious to hear what it’s going to sound like. In my head they’re great songs so far, but we have so much work left.

Here’s a possibly hard question – Everyone always asks me to “describe the sound” of The Format when I rave about you all to whoever will listen. How the heck do you usually answer that same question when people, doubtlessly and ad nauseum, propose it to you? How then shall we refer to you?

It’s the question that angers me most. I say pop if I’m not scared of the person asking me. But I’ll say rock if I think they pose a threat. But really I don’t know.

What new and distant horizons would you like to explore musically with your next album? I read something about steel drums?

Maybe a little bit, I tend to throw crazy words and instruments around but in the end it comes down to what’s best for the songs. With that being said…I hear a gospel choir.

[New song] Swans is fantastic, and I gotta say I loved the fact that there are jingle bells in there. Far underused outside of December festivities. I am curious to know what your studio space looks like, in terms of the dozens of instruments you use. You’ve got some awesome wacky stuff, eh?

Yeah for awhile before Dog Problems was recorded we spent a lot of time collecting crap, but the studio we recorded at in California had so many great instruments that we never used our own stuff. We are toying with the idea of make the next album in Arizona so I guess we might get to put 5 out-of-tune pump organs to use.

I am very interested in hearing about any new developments with your Vanity Label. Are you planning on adding some other artists to the roster? It must be a pretty cool feeling to be able to help and actually get good music heard by the general populace.

Yeah, we tend to forget we have the ability to sign other artists because we are so wrapped up in running the label for The Format. But once we hear something great or get a significant amount of time to work with someone, it’s something we would take very seriously.

[Me and Nate and my friend Jill after the show]

Bonus reading: A highly entertaining two-part tour blog written by Nate for Spin Magazine, wherein they crash a frat party and hone their skills in competitive drinking. [Part One] [Part Two]

Be here now: Interview with Mason Jennings

Mason Jennings just might be the nicest guy in music today (well, at least that I’ve met so far). I had a chance to sit down with Mason after watching his soundcheck at the Fox on Friday afternoon. Just as I opened my mouth to explain who I was and what I wrote for, he jumps in with comments to me about the specific articles he was reading earlier on my blog, offers me something to drink, and asks if I need him to hold the voice recorder. Yeah. No pretense here — Mason stands out with his completely earnest and kind nature, and commitment to the music.

I shouldn’t be surprised, since these same qualities come through in his music and are part of what draws me to his lyrics, but hearing his eloquent discussion of songwriting, the music industry, and parenthood made me really pleased to get to spend some time catching up with this talented musician.

MASON JENNINGS INTERVIEW
HB: You’ve shown a strong do-it-yourself ethic throughout your career, from recording your first album at home by yourself, to forming your own record label to distribute your work. And yet, you’ve called your first major label release (Boneclouds) “the record I’ve been trying to make for years.” I thought that was very interesting. Can you tell me a little bit about that?

Mason: Well, it’s just that I hadn’t been able to spend enough time in the studio with the DYI . . . is it DYI? Wait, do-it-yourself. DIY. I couldn’t figure out how to spend more time in the studio because it cost so much money, you know, and I wanted to make a more hi-fi sounding record and this gave me the opportunity to be in there for a bunch of weeks, 5 or 6 weeks. And I got a producer involved, which cost money, and I tried some stuff I just couldn’t do before. So that’s what I meant by that – just to see what it sounds like to try a bunch of different stuff without worrying about the clock ticking as much.

And that’s the same dichotomy you were talking about on the Use Your Van DVD . . .

Right, but that was back before I even signed or started recording [Boneclouds], so it’s neat that now I’ve gotten just what I had wanted then. I had time to try different arrangements, get different musicians in there, just try some stuff I’d never tried before. Like, recording Birds Flying Away was like . . . 5 days? And Use Your Voice was like less than two weeks, but that’s including mixing it too. So before I’d basically have one day to do a song, and if you don’t get it then everyone starts to stress, and then you get behind, and it’s not a good way to work. Plus, I don’t really like – it’s not the most comfortable environment to be in a studio for me. It’s just so sterile, usually.

So, you usually were used to going into the studio with the songs totally finished, and not doing much editing or noodling or revising in the studio?

We did that a lot on this album, for example a song like “Some Say I’m Not” was basically a first take in the studio, just like totally improvised. But we tried some different stuff, like the production aesthetic was different with slap-back vocal effects and things that were on the record were definitely not planned going in, it’s just a matter of now being able to experiment with different things and see what turns out the best.

Do you think . . . is there ever a danger of musicians getting, I don’t know . . . drunk on the power of being able to use whatever effects you want in the studio [Mason cackles] and then the ultimate result may be something that doesn’t really sound like you?

Maybe, yeah, like that kinda happened to me. I recorded the whole record in the studio, but then I ended up using about half of the demo tracks on the finished album. It was fun in that I got the experience, but at the end of recording it was just like, wow, this is way too glossy for me. So to balance it out I made sure that I put some demos on there. It was definitely fun to experience it [the toys in the studio], but it’s not necessarily something I think I’d do again in the same way.

So looking forward to your next album, now that you’ve successfully made the jump from independent to major label and released your first album this way, how might you do things differently next time?

Well, I bought a studio, a house in Minnesota, so I have a place that I can go every day now and start recording. I’m starting to do it all myself again, you know, with me playing all the instruments again, but I’ll be able to bring in different people as I need them, and different instrumentation, or singers, or producers or mixers – but as I need it, instead of having to go into a studio for ten days and have to get it all done exactly on schedule.

Do you have the same capabilities in your home studio as you would in the studio you recorded Boneclouds in?

Yeah, we recorded Boneclouds at a place called Pachyderm, where Nirvana recorded In Utero – it’s southern Minnesota. My home studio will be set up more for me, so it’ll be the same quality stuff but set up just for one person. So you don’t have to have everything to record a band or a big bunch of people. I’ll be more comfortable and I can just be there all the time if I want, like I could be there for a year and recording by myself, instead of always having people from the label there or even people that work in the studio wandering in and out. It’s harder to be intimate with it, you know, in that kind of setting.

I am currently writing new material and getting the studio set up so aesthetically it just feels really natural and comfortable to me. I don’t want to move too fast with it. It’s a slow process. I plan to start recording in August, and hit it pretty hard.

Where are you finding musical inspiration these days? Is it ever hard to be inspired on the road?

No, it’s always just really random for me. I mean, I’ll always try to just sit down with a guitar and write, but when songs come to me, it’s really hard to know what inspires it. I try and make sure that I take in as much input as I can and just . . . live as much as I can. And then the songs will just come naturally. It’s pretty great – it’s the best part for me. My favorite part is the writing. For me it’s just, I feel totally interconnected, like something’s just cruisin’ through you, and you get in the zone. It’s really, really fun when it works. It kinda feels to me like when I meditate twice a day, and it’s kinda like that . . . everything feels in line, you know? It’s hard to describe.

Art often inspires art, and you’ve said that “Adrian” was sparked by the immense feeling in Toni Morrison’s Beloved. Are there other songs that you can specifically recall that were inspired directly by another piece of art, whether it was a book you read or a song…?

Well, yeah – on the new record the song “Be Here Now” was inspired by the book Be Here Now by Ram Dass. And “Moon Sailing On The Water” was I think pretty influenced by a book called In The Lake Of The Woods by Tim O’Brien. He wrote a bunch of Vietnam books, like Going After Cacciato and The Things They Carried. The book just stuck with me.

Let’s see, it’s hard to tell exactly what’s influencing what. Adrian’s not about Beloved, it just feels like it. And on that same record “East of Eden” is sort of inspired by a Steinbeck book, and also “Dewey Dell” is inspired by the Faulkner book As I Lay Dying, there’s a character Dewey Dell.

It’s almost like . . . [pauses] when you just step one little step off your own life, you can just see something open up in front of you, and you just follow it.

The thing for me is that I really wanted to write because when you read books or when you watch movies or whatever, and you get to that point where you get really moved and you transcend and you start to, like, almost cry or get teared up at a really great piece of art and that’s what I’m always trying to look for in the music too. If people tell me, “Man, you made me cry on the one song,” I mean, it’s not like I wanna say that’s the point, but I like the transcendence in relating to another person’s point of view so much, and feeling so connected and not alone in the experience, whatever it is, the book or song or whatever. That’s so powerful, I think, that connected feeling.

I thought it was interesting when you were talking about the difficulty for you in finding music after your sons were born that honestly reflected the contrasting emotions that parenthood brought up, without sounding like Raffi. Where are you at with that? I know you’ve written some of your own music that’s influenced by those experiences of fatherhood.

Well, now my [4-year-old] son likes Led Zeppelin, so I’m like, “Okay, we’re safe now. We can hang.” But, I’m trying to think . . . Paul Simon’s really good about talking about those things; I mean he has that one song about his daughter that’s really famous but there’s also like The Rhythm of the Saints or Graceland that’s so much about that. Jack Johnson’s starting to write some stuff about his family life.

It’s really hard, though. I mean, the one song that’s on my record “Which Way Your Heart Will Go” was called Fatherhood, and there was a line, instead of going “darling, there’s no way to know which way your heart will go,” instead it said “I would never trade a thing for fatherhood and the joy you bring.” But it was hard because I actually liked the original way better and it was more powerful to me, but then I played it for certain people and they just didn’t feel anything. Like, if they’re not a father, then they couldn’t relate, so I was like, “wow.” That was a tough one for me to change the lyrics. It makes sense, I guess, because then it opens it up to more people, but it still to me . . . there’s not enough songs about fathers I think.

You said when we first sat down that there is a lot of great stuff happening now in music. Tell me about that – what excites you in music lately?

One thing I like is the intimacy, like everyone’s starting to really get to know musicians in a closer way, through things like MySpace the walls are just coming down. I mean, like you look up Lou Reed’s MySpace page and he’s just like on there, sitting at a restaurant. And it’s like, “What?” All the veils are coming down. It’s a really interesting time for that.

And then you get these really incredible people like Joanna Newsom and Chad VanGaalen, just like these hybrid artists that just have these amazing kinds of new talent. So, that’s exciting to me.

Also just the instantaneous nature of music now, like you can just put something up on the web so fast and hear it. I love going to people’s MySpace pages and hearing different songs and demos. It can be hard figuring it all out though. It seems like the albums and CDs are kind of in a weird spot, like it doesn’t really make sense in a lot of ways to make CDs anymore? And people don’t think about them . . . I mean, they put like seventeen songs on an album and . . . I can’t listen to that in one sitting. It’s sort of weird to make art that you can’t experience in one sitting . . . like, cohesively. I don’t know how to address that. I keep thinking of different things like maybe just releasing songs as I write them or record them, individually through the web or something?

Yeah, because it’s changing, people’s attention spans, what they are willing to invest their time in. It’s going from full albums experienced completely as opposed to this era now with music just flying at you, detached from any sort of context.

Exactly. Like when I first started recording music ten years ago, the internet wasn’t even there. I mean, it was there, but I wasn’t using it as a tool. I didn’t have a CD player, and I didn’t have a computer. It’s really bizarre, I mean I remember putting up flyers on telephone poles. It’s just weird how within the last ten years, which is not that long, it’s just totally changed the game.

So it’s just trying to figure out how to go about it now, and it’s fascinating to me. I go into a CD or record store, or am flying around doing all these in-stores and record conferences, and everyone is so depressed, telling me that this is a dying trade. They’ll say, “Well, our store doesn’t really live except through vinyl.” So it’s like this archaeological store, this retro relic. People come in as collectors; I mean they might as well be selling Hummel figurines. It’s weird. There will always be a need for physical music, but maybe it will become like paintings or something, you know? It will probably be more like art galleries, especially once the thing you are listening to it on can be afforded by everyone. It’s a very interesting time.

Another thing that’s cool now is how live performing is coming back in, too. You can get all this stuff on the internet, you can download it for free, but you can’t replace coming out to see a show. I’ve experienced that, like, I’ll go to a city where I’ve sold a couple hundred records and there’ll be a lot more people there. I’ll say, “Wow, this is crazy. I thought there would be, like, forty people and there’s like 500.” I guess that’s the internet. They can hear one song and decide to go to the show. It’s cool.

If you feel that the emphasis is shifting away from whole albums, do you still write that way, or do you take it song by song?

Yeah, I don’t know. I’m sort of in the middle with that right now and trying to decide what to do a little bit. I mean you could have someone like Ryan Adams who just releases like a zillion a year, or you just have your traditional release every two and a half years . . . I don’t know. I am writing all the time, and now with my own studio, I guess it just depends on what I feel I should put out there and I am still trying to decide how to best do that.

Are you going to put “In Your City” on a record?

[Laughs] I tried putting it on the last one, it just didn’t fit, it sounded different. Do you want me to?

I love that song.

Yeah, I like it. It’s like . . . little.

In Your City (live) – Mason Jennings
(the sound here streams slow and weird – donno why. If you download it, it should sound normal. Sorry!)

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The sold-out live show that followed was just fantastic; Mason’s an artist who you should see live to truly appreciate and understand his music. Even if you’ve never heard a single song he’s written before walking into the show, I think you’d be impressed and enjoy it immensely. Songs that are good on the album become explosive in concert. “Godless” was a churning, raging, consuming storm. “Jesus Are You Real” was brutally honest, and lovely acoustic songs like “The Simple Life” (which Mason started with, solo) lend a playful and easy vibe. He even covered Buddy Holly. He just plain rocks.

He’s on tour through the month of June, and has six albums out for you to enjoy – #1-#5 are out on his own Architect Records, and #6 Boneclouds was released last year on Epic subsidiary (and Modest Mouse’s Isaac Brock-helmed) Glacial Pace.

VIDEO
Mason Jennings: Butterfly
(kickass drummer Brian starts the song, Mason takes his sweet time joining in, with a smile)

Mason Jennings: Fighter Girl

PHOTOS

The post in which Heather becomes Mom’s favorite daughter: The Taylor Hicks interview

The lights go out and the screams instantly reach fever pitch.
I am standing in the Paramount Theater in Denver.
I am with my mom.
I am at a Taylor Hicks concert.

How did I get here?

When the opportunity to talk with Taylor Hicks about music kind of fell directly into my lap (with an opportunity to take my mom to his show), I just couldn’t say no. One thing I’ve always thought about Taylor Hicks since the first time I saw him on American Idol is this: Despite of the avenue of an embarrassing pop reality show, this is a man who truly loves music, and who truly loves performing music. He feels it deep inside, and we both share a strong and abiding appreciation for soul greats like Otis Redding, Ray Charles, and Sam Cooke. At only 31, Hicks is a bit of an anomaly amongst folks in my generation. But in a good way.

A CONVERSATION WITH TAYLOR HICKS

HB: What role has music played for you throughout your life?

TH: I guess having an outlet of some sort – music was that outlet for me. Music replaced a lot of things that were missing in my life at that time. Luckily I was listening to Ray Charles and soul music, and that’s when I started replacing the things that were missing with that love of music, it balanced me out. Through singing and then playing the harmonica — it just kind of took off for me. I don’t know if it found me or I found it. The first record I ever heard in that genre was probably Otis Redding, then Ray Charles hit and I just kind of took off with Ray, studying everything I could get my hands on from him.

As a kid, you know, from the time I was . . . eleven, I remember feeling like I was going to keep good music around, or at least be one of the players involved in keeping good music around. And it wasn’t a selfish feeling, it was more selfless feeling, for the good of the music and people, maybe like a conducer, that’s what I’d like to be. Let good stuff flow through me, keeping it around, live – the way that the legends perform it.

Do you ever feel intimidated by that? That’s a pretty tall order.

Well, you’re always feeling the weight, you know, of trying to be the best artist you can be, so I think that’s just being an artist. I don’t think any artist is ever content, they want to describe the landscape, talk about it, and not be content with . . . not moving.

Your first two albums were undertaken from an assumedly low-budget, very independent standpoint. I’d like to know a little about the process for you of making the new album, working in a big studio, doing songs written by Rob Thomas, Marvin Gaye, some Ray Charles samples, a full band…. You must have felt a bit like a kid in a candy store.

Yeah, it was cool, learning how to be a recording artist in the truest sense. I think having all those tools definitely helped. You can paint the picture better with a better budget. Like, each song is a blank canvas, your instruments are your paintbrushes. You know? I didn’t have many paintbrushes to work with before. So that was cool.

But this album came really quick — it was under time constraints, so I couldn’t paint it completely, because you know, in 5 weeks we had to record it. So I had to record on instinct. When I do future albums, I’ll have more time. In the future I’ll need to take more time with my own art, my own songs, the songs of others, production, mixing, I wanna have more time to do all that. Have that time to create and be an artist. I think Fall, I will probably – I might be touring this record for the next year, but I think in the Fall I want to block some time out for writing.

I love Ray LaMontagne, and I thought it was great when you were talking about your choice to cover his song “Trouble” on American Idol and saying “my whole goal is to let people see about that music that’s real and not to let it slip.” But did you ever feel like you were speaking . . . a foreign language during the time you were on AI with tastes for “real” music?

To a certain degree, yeah. It was a very tough task. But I found that the love of performing, I mean that was my true gig. You listen to what’s popular now, pop radio, and . . . I really want to keep real music in the forefront. I’ve been touring that idea, I’ll be touring that idea forever.

I went to see Ray LaMontagne right when that Trouble album came out, about two years ago. I like him. I like his recorded music better. He’s obviously, it seems to me, a performer that doesn’t really like being there. But I think he can hide behind the confines of his own words and music in the studio and not have to face that, you know? That’s what I want for him – it’s tough when you see an artist go through . . . I don’t wanna say torture . . . but a similar thought process there.

If you could do a duet with any musician living or dead –just for sheer personal enjoyment and love of the music and not for any commercial purpose or audience– who would you choose?

[Long pause]
I would have to say Van Morrison probably, live. I would like to play live with Van. I studied his stuff, digested a lot of what he did on stage – and Otis Redding, those two live performers. If you’ve ever seen Otis live, see a lot of people haven’t seen that – it’s a lost art, what he did. He was a brilliant performer live. And of course Ray (Charles).

Finally, what’s been the coolest thing you’ve gotten to be a part of in these last two years?

Oh, going to Ray Charles’ studio. I was picked up on the same day that I was on the cover of People Magazine. That same day. You know, it was crazy. There’s not so many people that get to do that. I got to play on his piano. While I was there, I got to go down into his personal vault. Now, I’ve been interested in Ray Charles Live in Tokyo. We went down to his music vault, and everything he had was labeled in Braille, so nobody knew what it was — only him. The first thing that I picked up, I opened the box up and it was [the tapes for] Live in Tokyo by Ray Charles, and it freaked everybody out. It felt so right. It was really cool, that was a really cool experience. That validated me being there.

But . . . you know, surrealism has lost its luster with me, you know what I mean? Because I just take it for what it is and hopefully have one day to reflect on everything I’ve done, because I can’t right now. Maybe open the file up someday.

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I couldn’t help but smile when I saw Taylor on stage later that night because he was so clearly living his dream with purpose and joy. Even if I may not listen to his latest album, I can so purely appreciate seeing someone who has accomplished exactly what they are passionate about doing in performing music for the (very enthusiastic) masses.

Taylor’s been eking out a living for 15 years performing as a live musician, honing his craft in dive bars and at frat parties, hoping to “make it” so that he could afford to pursue what he feels he is meant to do. It’s easy to make fun of American Idol, believe me I do it all the time (even the whole single season I closet-watched it), but it was harder for me to put aside the joking and just enjoy his soulful enthusiasm in leading the show. Which, I’ll have to admit . . . I ultimately did.

Some photos are mine, others are from this great collection.

All the Pete Yorn you can handle

Ah, where to begin? I have just spent a fantabulous two days saturated with all the Pete Yorn I can handle (although yes, I’d go for more). Two in-store appearances packed with acoustic rarities, two fantastic concerts with the full repertoire of songs, and a one fine interview for y’all – an insight into the mind of the man behind the music.

Pete Yorn is an authentic, quality singer-songwriter (slash drummer, slash guitarist, slash multi-instrumentalist) with heartfelt passion for his music. This 32-year-old from Jersey combines raw urgency with melodic beauty, and I think that he is currently making and performing some of the best music of his career. If you can catch some of the remaining tour dates or in-stores, I urge you to do so. Many of the shows are sold out, but beg borrow and steal, baby.

If you have not yet read my massive post on Pete Yorn from a few months ago (or are unfamiliar with him), you must do so immediately. Full stop. The coolest thing to happen to me in recent memory is discovering on Monday night that Pete Yorn himself has previously read that very post on my very own little blog (and apparently the version of “Knew Enough To Know Nothing At All” that I have on there is a remix with Velvet Underground loops, not the original). Huh. Sweet beard of Zeus.

After some shuffling of schedules Monday night out on the open-air patio of the Walnut Room in Denver with Pete, we finally found some time to sit down together on Tuesday afternoon up in Boulder on a couch backstage at the Fox Theatre and chat a bit about what he has been up to. What I saw revealed was a rather pensive (but funny) musician with a lot of interesting things to say while he rubbed his guitar-string calloused fingertips.
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Pete Yorn Interview, July 25, 2006
Fox Theatre, Boulder, Colorado

So, tell me about your new album Nightcrawler. What is the musical progression or evolution from your two previous records, Musicforthemorningafter and Day I Forgot, to the new Nightcrawler?

It’s a completely different record than either of the other two records. The natural progression for me is just being older, living more, experiencing more. Right from the first song on Nightcrawler (“Vampyre”), it’s definitely a darker tone than what I’ve set with other records, but there’s a lot of bright spots on there too. But I mean, with any record if you just listen to the first song and think that’s what the whole record is going to sound like, you’d be missing a lot, it’s a pretty diverse. And I work on the order of the songs to make a flow that I like, so yeah, that’s something that’s important to me.

The vibe during the recording was everything from free-and-easy to real pain in the ass. We recorded something like fifty songs for Nightcrawler, so it was hard for me to pick. I have that problem with every record, its always hard for me to pick what’s gonna make it and what’s not gonna make it. I try to put together a group of songs that’s gonna fit well together, ones that kind of enhance each other. I started recording songs for Nightcrawler at the end of 2003, beginning of 2004, so it’s been a few years in the making, lots of songs recorded.

Were the Westerns EP songs recorded during the Nightcrawler sessions? Or do you look at that as a separate project?

A bunch of those songs were done & recorded in Jersey. Some of that stuff was like the first stuff I did when I got inspired to record again, and it always just stayed with me. Then I kinda went and started doin’ the other stuff, but then when it was time to put the record together I was like, “Man, I really want that [Westerns] stuff to get out there.” It just has an innocence to it, to my ear anyway, that I like. Westerns just feels a little more rootsy to me than Nightcrawler.

And the Dixie Chicks got involved because I was writing songs with them for their record, and we were friends through that. Then, they came out to L.A. to do their record with Rick Rubin, and that’s where I was recording at the time, so I asked them to come . . . I thought they would just be perfect for those songs.

Do you think there is more freedom in doing an EP than a full-length album because perhaps there aren’t the same commerical pressures with an EP?

Hmmmm. No. That’s never why I do it anyway, so I mean – maybe other people are pressured to market it. But I just want to put forward music that I am into, music that I want to play, that captures a good vibe. So whether its Westerns or Nightcrawler, it’s the same approach.

You opened for Bon Jovi in 2003 . . .

Yeah (laughs)…

And you’ve played hundreds of shows, both large and small. Is there one that stands out in your mind as being particularly memorable?

Yeah, uh . . . last night in Denver? I always remember my last show the most vividly. But they’re all different in their own way. It’s weird with me, like sometimes I’ll be havin’ a bad time during the show, and then I get offstage and everyone thinks it’s like the greatest show we’ve ever played. Then there’ll be times when we’ll be having the best time on stage and everyone’s like, “Eh, it was just alright …” So my perception of a good time might be different than what’s going on in front, but I try to make every show stand out in its own way.

What excites you about music today?

I listen to mostly older stuff. I haven’t really been listening to much new stuff at all. It’s like I do so much music that it’s all I do, so I haven’t been listening to music that much. I kind of like to take a break from it on my downtime. So like, driving around I listen to talk radio.

Can you list any of your top desert island discs?

Oh man, it changes a lot.
London Calling I love, always have, still do. Sounds great.
The Stones — Sticky Fingers, Let it Bleed, Exile On Main Street. I like the Stones a lot.
Uh, Beach Boys, Pet Sounds

What was the first song you remember learning? Either on drums or guitar, since I know you do both.

On drums I remember learning “Dance The Night Away” by Van Halen when I was like nine. On guitar, like at 12 or 13, I learned maybe like “Every Rose Has Its Thorn” or something. Those first chords. And I remember learning bass lines, like I could play “Smoke On The Water” or Violent Femmes’ “Blister in the Sun” (sings tune). But then I learned chords and I remember that Poison song was two chords, it was like G and C, so it was easy. And I told my mom that I wrote it (laughs).

You’ve performed a variety of interesting covers, from Mark James’ “Suspicious Minds” to Beach Boys to The Smiths. How do you pick covers? Are there just songs that you can see through to the core of it and know it conveys something for you?

Hmmm, well sometimes lyrically something will really hit home, like “Oh, I wish I said that” and then you’ll want to sing it. Like with [The Smiths'] “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out,” I’ve always loved that song so much. It’s kind of dark imagery in it, but the other night somewhere I did [Warren Zevon's] “Splendid Isolation” into “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out” and lyrically they are such strong statements, they’re like polar opposites. Like one’s this too-super-cynical guy who just wants to be alone and be a hermit, and then on the other side of someone who is so lonesome they just want to go out and don’t even care if they crash and die next to the person — they are so desperate for contact. And I never realized that until I sang them both back to back, I was like “holy shit.” Then I see the parallels in a lot of my own songs, when I’ll go into a song and then the next song for some reason will pop into my head as a polar opposites.

Are there any songs that you think would be cool to cover that you haven’t done yet?

“Unsatisfied” by Paul Westerberg – The Replacements. Definitely.

I always appreciate the interesting layers of percussion that you use in all of your songs, and I know that your roots are as a drummer. When it comes to songwriting, what comes first in your mind? Do you ever think of the drum portion first and then go into the melody or the lyric?

Yeah, “Strange Condition” was a drumbeat, it was just like (“slap, pat, tap tap, pat” on his knees) and I was like, “I like that beat, I’m gonna write a song to that.” Um, “Committed” was a drumbeat. Committed was actually the drumbeat to “Surrender” by Cheap Trick, exactly. I mean, literally, it was The Drums from Surrender — we got the tracks of Bun E. Carlos playing it, just the drum track, and Surrender is a great song, great rhythm, great tempo, and I just threw it down and wrote Committed – just played into it. Someone emailed me saying that they heard Bun E. Carlos on XM Radio or something the other day — or maybe it was Sirius or something – and he was saying, “Oh yeah, I played drums on ‘Committed’ with Pete Yorn,” even though it was just his drum disc. Well, it IS him, but it wasn’t like he was there. I was surprised he even knew about it. In the credits I did put Bun E. Carlos on it. But it is as it is.

So you do work from those different perspectives when you’re writing songs . . .

Yeah, like, “Black” I wrote on the bass, it’s just a bass line — you know, like (imitates bass line) — and immediately that drumbeat just came right in (slaps his knees in time). But yeah, a lot of stuff starts from that bass and rhythm.

You played a gorgeous version of Bandstand In The Sky last night, and I know that you’ve said that was written the day Jeff Buckley died.

Yeah, I wrote that when I heard the news. I didn’t know him, but it just popped out. I’m a fan of Grace. I remember the first time I heard it, I was in school still, college. I ‘member this friend of mine was a film major and asked me to be in his student film and I was like, “Alright, sure.” And I remember we were filming at a gas station and I had to just sit in the car and throw a tennis ball at the dashboard and catch it, for like, hours. It took them forever to set up the shot, they were just learning how to use all the stuff and nothing would work. So I’m just sitting in the car for hours and I remember just playing “Last Goodbye” on repeat. Just over and over and over and over again, loving that song, and loving the whole record.

[Pauses] . . . But just having a night with that. It would end and I’d start it again.

The last song on Nightcrawler is a studio version of “Bandstand.” It’s kind of slow, mid-tempo. It’s a cool version.

You’ve had a lot of songs on movie soundtracks in the past few years. Do you have anything new coming up?

Yeah, I just did a, uh, Paul Westerberg song. He scored this new animated movie that’s coming out called Open Season, and they called me and asked me to sing one of the songs, so I recorded it and sang it. In the movie there’s an orchestrated version, then I recorded one for the soundtrack, like my own version. The song is called “I Belong,” and I think it comes out September 29th.

One last thing – speaking of movies; How in the world did you end up playing bongo drums on the Anchorman video for “Afternoon Delight”?

(Laughs) Yeah, how did that come about?
Um, my friend recorded the song for them, for “Afternoon Delight,” my buddy Doc. And he called me one day and he was like, “Dude, they need people to be in this video they’re shooting!” and I was like, “What is it?’ and he’s like “It’s fuckin’ Will Ferrell in Anchorman!” and I was like “No shit, really? Hell yeah, let’s do it!” I had nothing to do, so I headed down and they slapped some big old moustache on me and a turtleneck. Actually if you notice, I’m not playing with my hands, I’m playing with mallets! I’m playing mallets on the bongo, it’s really . . . silly.

[Commence laughing, general thanking, and farewells as we realize the time and Pete heads off to his in-store; you know, poor form to be late to those]

Additional photos from Dave Ventimiglia, taken at Blueberry Hill in St. Louis, 7/1/06.
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Now I’ve amassed such a collection of songs & video from the last two days that it is hard to filter (hence the exercise in complete excess which follows shortly). The live shows were absolutely amazing; Pete is backed by an excellent band that knows their shiz — they are cohesive and tight, but they also are having a good time (the proof is right here).

I have picked out some of my favorites from the two shows here (caveat — I taped it again myself so don’t expect excellent audio, just a document of the occasion that is listenable, except maybe for the warbling girls next to me):

FOUR HIGHLIGHTS FROM DENVER
Crystal Village
This song is absolutely anthemic in concert, an elevating experience. Listen to the crowd sing along. “Take my hand, come with me, I see the lights so brightly. And we fall as if we never really mattered.”

Good Advice
A rocker off the Westerns EP, full of lyrics about showin’ the world you can dance. Even if you can’t. Bassist Sid Jordan manages to thrum out the hip-shakin’ bass line, sing harmonies throughout the show, and all without taking the cigarette out of his mouth. It’s a gift, really.

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out (Smiths cover)
I had never really listened to these lyrics before Pete played it because I was not a goth kid in high school (you know the two camps, goth or rock?) but now I am glad to have it in my musical knowledge because it is so evocative & urgent.

Bandstand In The Sky
I can’t express how breathless I was when he announced this song, since it was written about Jeff Buckley and I had just been thinking as I drove up to the concert how much I would love to hear this live. Stunning.

THREE HIGHLIGHTS FROM BOULDER
A Girl Like You
One of the things I had said to Pete the night before was that I had missed the inclusion of “Girl Like You” (after which he asked if I had green eyes, but I didn’t get the lyrical reference until about an hour later when I was driving home and I had a smack-the-forehead moment). This is such a perfect little song.

For Nancy (‘Cos It Already Is)
This song rocks hard live, and watching drummer Mal Cross furiously cut loose at the end just exhausted me in one of the best ways possible.

Lose You
The opening piano notes of this song just hang in the air with such a sense of anticipation, it almost knocked the wind out of me. Another absolute gem. Joe Kennedy rocks on the piano.

IN-STORE PERFORMANCES
Then I will post the complete sets for both in-store performances, since the audio quality is better on these and the songs are generally pretty rare.

Denver, Twist ‘N’ Shout
July 24, 2006
1. Knew Enough To Know Nothing At All
2. James in Liverpool(very rare, not played in years)
3. Hunter Green
4. Golden Road (off the new Westerns EP, great video coming)
5. Search Your Heart (another new one, possible b-side)

Boulder, Bart’s Records
July 25, 2006
1. Splendid Isolation (Warren Zevon cover)
2. Baby I’m Gone (yeah!)
3. I Feel Good Again (Junior Kimbrough cover)
4. June (Pete refers to this as one of his favorite songs)
5. Alive (from the new album Nightcrawler)

COMPLETE SETS
Finally, I also uploaded and zipped the full shows:

7/25/06 at the Walnut Room, Denver (setlist here)
7/26/06 at the Fox Theatre, Boulder (setlist here)

And if by some absolute anomaly you are still not sated, videos will come once I can beat YouTube into some sort of submission.

And happy birthday today, Pete. Keep on rockin’ that goood music.

Roger Clyne Interview: “It’s beautiful, and it’s life, and there’s no incongruity in my mind.”

If you’ve been with this blog since the beginning (all two of you), or else you’ve clicked through the archives, you might know that Roger Clyne was the first artist I wrote about on I AM FUEL, YOU ARE FRIENDS (in a charmingly rambling & naive piece), because I had just gone to see him in concert the day before I started this blog. I’ve also followed up with another, more proper and biographical post about him here.

Why do I like Roger Clyne so much? I’ve only been listening to him for a year or so. The first time I heard two of his songs on a mix CD, I was drawn to his energy and his great rock sound. I vividly remember driving home along the California freeway, windows down, springtime air, thinking that Clyne was a perfect soundtrack to that moment.

That’s why I am pleased to present to y’all an interview with the man himself, my first artist interview for FUEL. This will probably be my longest post of the year (unless I, uh, get that interview with Vedder), but hang with me. Something is encapsulated within Roger — his passion for making some truly excellent music, the way he articulates everyday beauty in poetic ways, and his good, good heart — that compels me to encourage you to get turned on to him too. Whether or not you specifically like his work, I think that the things he has to say will appeal and speak to anyone who truly loves music.

Roger Clyne is one of the hardest working artists in rock ‘n’ roll, and he isn’t tired of it yet. The independent model for the operation of his current band Roger Clyne & The Peacemakers (previously The Refreshments) is something that countless other independent artists are also living on a daily basis. It is relentless, involving long months of touring, being away from family and home, working to get your music out there and your voice heard. But Roger would rather do this than anything. You see, it’s his calling.

I believe that through this kind of passion and urgency – therein may lie the salvation of rock ‘n’ roll.
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INTERVIEW WITH ROGER CLYNE

I think you are certainly one of the busiest and most active musicians that I have seen in terms of touring and releasing. I wonder is it more work, necessarily, being in an independent rock ‘n’ roll band, versus your time with the Refreshments?

Yeah, touring for a good part of the year is pretty typical — that’s both a necessity and a blessing in an independent band. We don’t operate with any parent company or tour support. Every dollar that we spend on a bus repair – hallelujah – or recording comes from our relationship to the art and to the audience. So it’s really organic, definitely often very very close to the bottom line, but I enjoy it. It’s a thrill. It’s a thrilling ride.

It’s the ultimate litmus test to see if art can really lead commerce, and quality can lead quantity. And so far so good. I’m . . . I’m proud.

You quoted Paul Westerberg once when he said that rock ‘n’ roll looks a lot easier than it is. You certainly make it look enjoyable, if not easy.

Oh, it’s absolutely enjoyable, but that doesn’t mean that it’s easy. There’s another wonderful paradox: it’s an incredibly difficult sport, but once I’m up there, it’s effortless.

All the things that get you to the stage – all the planning and logistics, all the budgeting and spreadsheets and phone calls and Mapquest and reservations and contracts that have to fall into place to make a two-hour show happen – that stuff is far more difficult than when I finally get up there, and I get let out of the chute, and I get to take the stage. Then performance seems to me like . . . the closest thing I can conceptualize what Zen is. I think that the timelessness that the masters talk about in the state of Zen, that all-consumptive one-moment feeling, I think that I am coming close to that feeling sometimes when I am on that stage.

Sometimes I am interrupted by a technical difficulty or who knows what, but there are times when I’ll have a really really effortless show. I may be physically working hard, but it seems to me like nothing has happened between start and stop, two and a half hours have gone by in a state of just total rapture, I love it.

Sometimes in songwriting I’ve had that experience as well. I have an hourglass in my writing room, and typically I require that I turn it over four times when I arrange time for my writing so that I will be there for four hours. There have been times when I will turn the hourglass over and turn to my guitar to mess with the melody or poetry or cadence or whatever part of the song it will be that day, and I’ll look up and the hourglass is empty and I won’t know how long it’s been. And that’s also just a really great feeling.

You mentioned your writing room, and you’ve also got a lyric (in “Feeling“) about writing a song on a front porch… is there a specific place where you like to do your songwriting?

When I am at home, I have a small piece of my garage that was the former owner’s woodshop. Basically I just painted it a lot of bright colors and hung some stuff in it and put a small uncomfortable chair and my guitar in there for writing. Uncomfortable chair because if I get too far into my creative trance, I’ll go into my sleep mode! If I can get away, I can really write anywhere. I find that the best place and time for me to write is where there are no interruptions from routine things at home – like taking the kids to school, checking email, or answering the phone — I find those things very, very interruptive to my creative process. I used to be a nighttime creator, but now I find that I work better very early in the morning, like 4am, right out of a sleep. I think it’s the pre-clutter clarity.

I read that you wrote “Leaky Little Boat” after waking up from a sleep like that?

I did, it was after a show in Mexico and there were a whole bunch of people crashed at our pad down there. It was weird, I’ve had this happen a couple of times, but it was like you know the song by heart before you’ve even heard it. It was sort of playing out in my head. It was like seeing a picture or looking at a painting and not even seeing the process, I don’t know what the process of creation was, it was just – BOOM, the song was streaming from my head.

So I jumped over whoever was sleeping on the floor there and ran out on the patio and grabbed the guitar and hit ‘go’ on my little Radio Shack cassette recorder and started singing it – kind of whispering it – and playing it, best I could find the key, and made it a song. Somebody said, “Hey, what is that?” and I was like, “Sshh, I don’t know, I don’t know!” But I still have that tape.

That sounds amazing, being a conduit for this music that comes from somewhere, that wants to be heard.

I am still in wonder. There are some artists that create and they just don’t know what the source is, it just comes through them. For the longest time, and this is my ego in a way, but I didn’t know what the hell they were talking about, I thought that some of them were making it up. Until I actually had the experience — if you allow yourself to be open to it long enough, it comes. And it didn’t come to me in a single flash, it came to me moment by moment. I love that part of the process when you look back on what you did for the day or for the hour, it’s hard to believe that you were part of that creative process – like, I don’t know where I came up with THAT idea. And the more surprising they are, I think the more fun it is.

I would wonder if it is like learning another language, that moment when you realize that you have slipped naturally into speaking it, and thinking in it, and you are no longer struggling over the mechanics of how to express yourself.

Yes, that’s a great, fantastic analogy — that sounds very, very close to the experience I had. You become fluent in whatever that creative language really is.

I was excited recently to unexpectedly find your new EP Four Unlike Before on iTunes, and I really am enjoying the summertime/ acoustic/beach versions of some of the older songs. Is the opening track Mexicosis a new song?

Mexicosis is a brand-new track, I wrote it this year. As soon as I get stuff written, I always want to share it. There’s a part of me that goes, “Well, you’ve got to record it right, and let it evolve, etc. etc,” and I always have to be reminded of that by my band and management. But this whole Four Unlike Before thing has basically been a way to placate my drive to keep sharing music, and yet at the same time not give the surprise away, so to speak – let the fruit ripen on the vine with the new album.

We put the music together – that’s just us in PH’s bedroom with a whatchamacallit . . . it’s like a computer thing? iTunes? Or, not iTunes, a Mac, or an Apple, no…I don’t know what it’s called, some high-tech digital thing that expedites recording.

I feel that our relationship with the audience is good enough that we don’t have to be perfect in our presentation. I think that if you listen to a lot of recordings today, now not all of them – they’re so homogenized and so perfected it takes some of the spirit away, it takes some of the danger out of it, it takes some of the latitude of the expression away. Cuz sometimes with the mistakes – now, this is old cliché – but sometimes the mistakes are part of the art.

I think your fans appreciate the excitement in seeing your music evolve and take risks – I’d rather see that any day than something that’s candy-coated perfection.

I would too. You know, there’s something to be said for – when you get really good at something, it’s good to somehow keep growing within it. And every song offers that possibility, and so does every performance. If you allow it to become rote, it will be. You have the same relationship with anything for that long, whether it’s a person, or a place, or a performance – It can become mundane, but only if you let it.

Anyways, that’s a big tangent (laughs) – it was Mexicosis. I wanted to put it out and the guys, and Chris over at management, said alright let’s do that, let’s find a way. Releasing it through iTunes, we didn’t have to spend time doing a photo shoot and approving artwork and all sorts of liner notes and credits, etc etc. You’re allowed to get it out really quickly, without all of the physical limitations, I think it’s a cool format.

It must have also been interesting to revisit and rework some of your older songs as well for this EP, and to allow them to evolve in this new context.

Those things happen when sometimes we’ll mess around with songs before a show or rehearsal, warming up, and those are just ideas that stick. For example on “Sleep Like a Baby” if you listen to the rhythm guitar, it’s sort of done in a reggae beat, and the rest of the stuff is just the band’s creativity – we wanted to slow it down and see what the song would feel like with a reggae finish.

That La Playa version of “Counterclockwise” was one we did for a benefit that was actually laying around. I liked it a lot when we did it and it wasn’t widely released. It was for a now-defunct radio station in Phoenix called KZON, and only about 5000 copies were released, and we wanted to get it out there. It actually surprised us how fast it came out, and with little fanfare from us, though I had announced it in a letter. How fast it went through the iTunes channels was just excellent.

Technology is changing the way that many people learn about and listen to new music. You may have heard about the recent litigation against two Ryan Adams fans who are facing up to 11 years in prison for posting some of his songs on a fansite. How do you, as an artist, think that the growing technology of being able to share music online is helpful or harmful? Is it both? From your perspective, what’s it like?

It’s a dangerous genie, but I think ultimately it is going to be helpful. If art is going to have any value, it should be shared. If it’s going to be a conspirator in creating culture, if it’s gonna have any influence with the people then it needs to be shared, and not just from an economic or commercial point of view. The RIAA isn’t interested in culture creation or maintenance or improvement, they’re interested in commerce. Well, maybe that’s the culture they want to create. But it’s a very, very narrow culture, it’s not a humanistic culture.

I think that art needs to be shared. I think I’m involved in some way – I hope, I don’t want to sound self-important – in narrowing the gap, by removing middlemen from the process. I think it creates a healthier relationship between art and artist. I think the middleman in art and artistry is new, and by new I mean it’s only a few hundred years old that people have had to find a patron between art and artist. The way art came about is that it was good illumination, it was good guide, it was good expression, it was good fun. Sometimes the middleman in art can facilitate in a wonderful way, i.e. I think iTunes is a great thing, I think it creates an equitable relationship and you can go straight to an artist. I mean, you do have to pay a dollar, but I think a dollar is reasonable to find a song and learn about an artist.

But I don’t understand . . . it would be difficult for me to side with the RIAA on threatening to put someone in prison, taking 11 years away from a person’s life for posting a song that was meaningful to them on a fansite. It just seems so backwards and short-sighted. I mean, if they were caught bootlegging the entire Ryan Adams catalog and sending it to Taiwan, that’s clearly a different kind of violation. But come on, eleven years? Really, what kind of message are they sending about themselves? They are so involved in chasing down the dollar that they’re willing to say that we are personally going to imprison someone for celebrating what they thought was good about music, and I think that’s backwards.

It’s a tough knot to untie. There may always be a price tag associated with buying music, but not every piece all the time. If we look at the core relationship between art and audience and what that should be, money should play a very small role in the music being good and enduring and helpful in creating a culture whereby human beings begin to understand their relationship with music. The dollar bill is necessary in this society. . . we have to put gas in the bus, and studio time is not cheap. However, to prosecute fans is really a mistake and misguided.

Now, you had mentioned a new album and you’ve said would hopefully be released this year. Is that still on track?

Yes, it is still in the works. I have seventeen songs written for it, that the band and I are trying out and have have been doing them at soundchecks on these last two tours. Our big plan was to get a basic familiarity with them at soundchecks, working them through live, and then go into [guitarist] Steve [Larson]‘s little home studio and work up rough drafts so that we could all stand back and listen to what was going on, and simultaneously choose a producer, pick a budget, and a studio to record in.

Anyways, then [drummer] PH [Naffah] broke his collarbone (chuckles) and rehearsals for Mexico next weekend are actually taking precedence because it’s an immediate need. So we’re woodshedding again starting tomorrow morning. We are still planning for a release later this year — I don’t like to let too much time pass between studio releases. I know that Live at Billy Bob’s came out and we had to do a round of touring for that. But I like to keep the creative spark fanned and so, yeah, I really want to put out this album this year.

Speaking of [drummer/superb photographer] PH, how is he doing?

He’s doing well. I spoke with him this morning. He said he still feels like he got hit by a truck, but it goes away after a while. He’s like the kind of guy who won’t take painkillers. He is going to be able to play in Mexico, and what’s he’s going to do is he’s got a percussionist, kind of a supplemental drummer who will be his left-hand-man, so to speak. He is such a hard-working drummer – it’s pure concentration, yet somehow he’s still so spontaneous. When you see him play you say, “Wow – that’s what that guy was meant to do!”

I know you are a proud father of three kids, I’ve seen their painted handprints on your guitar in concert. Has the process of being a dad informed or changed your musicianship or songwriting at all?

Well, they are obviously such a huge part of my life, being a husband and a father and a provider (aside) – What? Wait, hold on – I’ve got one kid here with an arm full of stuffed animals asking me a question.

(In the background: “What? A bath? . . . Yeah, if you do it OUTSIDE. And don’t use the black tub. Be careful cuz the black tub will rub off and get them dirty. (child talking in the background) – Use a tin tub – Yes, you can, but dry them outside.”)

[Back to interview] . . . Sorry, there is going to be a stuffed animal bath in our backyard. It sounds like fun! Anyway, that is so big that it is hard to answer. I guess I did have a realization at one point, I was on tour and I hung up the phone after saying goodnight to the kids and my wife, and I knew it was going to be a long tour. There was a moment when I kind of let out a sigh to myself and I thought, “Crap, I’d really rather be at home.” And then I thought – Shame on me for saying that. I have this incredible opportunity, this incredible vocation & calling that I mustn’t turn away from.

I actually have a very good balance in my life, although being a musician presents a challenge of how to balance your life and how to answer a call like that, and how to become what you think you should become on all fronts. Because there are a lot of fronts: fatherhood and husbandhood and citizenship and peacemaking and rock ‘n’ roll and then just . . . fun.

But I thought to myself after I let that sigh go, you know what? I’m not going to waste a moment out here in regret. And I am certainly not going to waste a moment out here singing ‘woe is me,’ when I am spending my most valuable currency – time away from my family – or letting that affect in any way my performance here tonight to this audience, who have carved time out of their life to come and see what this band has to say as artists. Wow, but that’s a big question . . . kind of like “How has gravity affected the way you locomote?”

Okay, well, here’s another broad, tough one! Looking back, what is the neatest or best thing that you have gotten to be a part of because of your music?

Well, it may sound corny, but honestly, it’s just become who I am. I couldn’t be who I am speaking to you now without that music, speaking to you now, with my kids outside washing their stuffed animals in an old keg tub from my college days, writing up the setlist for the Mexico shows, none of this great stuff would be here if I hadn’t chosen to follow music. It all started when I just said yes to that scary question: “Are you really gonna do it?”

There was a moment in my life I recall, I was free of college, I had two degrees, I had a stipend waiting at CSU Long Beach, a paid ride to study psychology, and my dad asked me, “Well, what are you gonna do?” I was going to travel in Southeast Asia, I had the backup plan at CSULB, but I said to him, “I think I’m gonna try to be in a band, I think I’m gonna try music.” I remember that he looked at me and said, “Well then you’ve already failed.” And I was shocked, and I said, “Well, what do you mean?”

He replied, “Because you said you’re gonna try. I don’t care what you do, and actually you won’t care what you do, but whatever you do you’d better be the best you can be at it.” He’d always said that my whole life, but it was this big Yoda moment. It almost made me cry, I had to think about it a long time and had to figure it out; all these weights, all these other voices.

So I let the stipend go and burned all those bridges, I re-formed a band AGAIN, straight out of college in my mid-twenties, at a time when a lot of people are starting to settle down and listen to societal calls. You know, “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood . . .and I chose the one less traveled by and it has made all the difference.” The imperative was that simple. For me it was just to answer that call.

My last question is a literary one. In “Green & Dumb” you have a beautiful lyric, “All the pretty horses come running to her.” That is also the title of a novel by one of my favorite authors, Cormac McCarthy, and I was wondering if by chance there was a connection there. I ask because his books are like the literary equivalent of a lot of your songs, that whole part of the borderlands country and some of the wild outlaw beauty . . .

Wow, that’s a huge compliment to me. Yeah, I have read the Border Trilogy, and I don’t know if I was reading All The Pretty Horses at the time I wrote that, but definitely, his book is on my shelf right now. I love the themes, so romantic and adventurous – on the run, and on the road, away from society. And yet with a real mission and purpose and beauty.

I remember in reading his book, my imagination was so wide open because of the figures he uses in his writing. I was hoping that someday I could create or evoke a sense of physical place the way that he did. I still try to work it like that. I hope I can.

Well, you should go and assess the stuffed animal damage.

I know! Isn’t it great? It’s so weird, you know, like – here I am making up a setlist for a rock show, and fishing stuffed animals out of a keg tub. It’s beautiful, and it’s life, and there’s no incongruity in my mind.

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MUSIC: There are three tracks for download within the text of the interview, and you should check out their new EP Four Unlike Before, full of harmonica and handclaps. Their 2004 release Americano! is highly recommended ’round these parts as indispensable.

eMusic also has their 2000 disc Honky Tonk Union and their live disc from last year, both excellent.

And don’t forget the Live Music Archive – try the recent Cinco de Mayo acoustic show in San Francisco for some good starters. Nothing compares to a live Roger Clyne & The Peacemakers show. Everything Roger talks about in this interview, brought to life, in vivid color.

June 2 – Cheyenne Saloon, Las Vegas, NV
June 3 – Fiesta del Sol (free show!) – Solana Beach, CA
June 8 – Launchpad, Albuquerque, NM
June 9 – Wormy Dog Saloon, Oklahoma City
June 10-11 – Wakarusa Festival, Lawrence, KS
June 13 – Blueberry Hill, St. Louis, MO
June 14 – Jillian’s Lounge Life, Covington, KY
June 15 – Gatsby’s Café & Saloon, Johnson City, TN
June 16 – Freebird Café, Jacksonville Beach, FL
June 17 – Maltz Jupiter Theatre, Jupiter, FL
June 18 – The Social, Orlando, FL
June 20 – The Parish at House of Blues, New Orleans, LA
June 21 – Continental Club, Houston, TX
June 23 – Gypsy Tea Room, Dallas, TX
June 24 – Antone’s, Austin, TX
August 19 – Fort Tuthill County Park Amphitheatre, Flagstaff, AZ
October 14 – Circus Mexicus, Puerto Penasco, Mexico
October 28 – BB Kings, New York, NY
May 19, 2007 – Circus Mexicus, Puerto Penasco, Mexico