I'm very happy to present the first ever Seabass Says interview. If you've been here before, you may have noticed that the name Drew Kennedy has made an appearance or three. As I've mentioned before, Drew is an old friend carving out a place for himself in the music industry and the Texas scene. Next week, Drew and company will head into the studio to record the forthcoming "Fresh Water In The Salton Sea" and the world is invited to watch (read the details on Drew's site or just drop by the ustream feed when it goes live). Before recording the album and between shows, rehearsals, sleep, hom life, booking shows, and whatever else he's juggling these days, Drew was kind enough to exchange emails with me over most of December. I'll warn you that this is a long read (over 8,000 words), but I believe a good one (I have to thank Drew for approaching this in such a candid way).
I'll throw this up front, so you don't have to wade through too many words to get a peek at what "Fresh Water In The Salton Sea" has in store for us:
Drew Kennedy - The Captain and the Highway
On to the interview -->
I can't say I've prepared much of anything beyond knowing that I'd like to talk about songwriting and thinking that I'd rather have a conversation than a simple Q&A format. I'm sure this email chain could go back and forth quite a bit and for quite awhile. If you get tired or bored with it at any point feel free to call it quits or make up a ridiculous story about destroying a hotel room while on some week long bender in the middle of touring (when I think rock star debauchery, I think Drew Kennedy).
I think I'd like to kick things off by talking about you gearing up for another album. It seems like you've grown kind of prolific lately. There were, what...3 or 4 years between Hillbilly Pilgrim and Dollar Theatre Moive, then about 2 until An Audio Guide to Cross Country Travel, now we're looking at a live album release and you heading into the studio for album #4 all within the span of another 2 years. Is this a product of your surroundings and having more friends and resources to cultivate the songwriting or just a simple matter of having more shows under your belt and being able to finance an album more quickly than you could have in the past?
DREW KENNEDY:
I like these ground rules.
There are a lot of factors that go into the timeline, I think. I scraped together pennies to make Hillbilly Pilgrim as a kid just out of college. I knew nothing about the business behind making and marketing music at the time-- I just knew I liked writing songs, and I thought recording an album was the first step towards making a run at doing this as a profession. I moved to Texas and toured behind the album, but my newfound surroundings and compadres really set my pace of learning into overdrive... so I outgrew Hillbilly Pilgrim as a writer rather quickly. I wanted to find a way to record another album as fast as possible, but I had just teamed up with some management people and they urged me to slow it down. In hindsight, they were absolutely correct, although at the time I found it rather frustrating. They knew that if I cranked out another album (without even recouping the money I spent on my first one) a year behind HP, I'd be outgrowing it again in the blink of an eye and I'd repeat the entire cycle... maybe even twice over. Putting out 3 albums in 3 years and losing your ass on all of them is not a way to build a sustainable business. I give them all the credit in the word for slowing me down-- 2003-2006 was a serious time of growth for me as a writer. I went from someone who kind of knew how to make songs sound like the songs that he liked to listen to, to someone who was on the cusp of discovering his own voice-- I really came into my own and started earning a name for myself as a writer in a scene that cherishes it's writers-- that's when we started getting ready for a new album.
I'm not sure if any of that-- from the semi-first person "he" to the "earning name for self"-- comes across as egomaniacal as I fear it may.. I don't mean for it to sound that way, but if I am being honest with myself, I think it's reasonable as an artist in any form, to say that you know when you're getting good at something. My friend Walt Wilkins and I were talking about a song a few days ago, and I told him that the song in question was one of the first songs I wrote where I thought I was getting a handle on songwriting. He told me that he would bet that I knew it was great when I wrote it. I didn't want to agree with Walt, he who writes such incredible songs and has been such an inspiration to me over my entire lifespan as a writer, but again, speaking plainly, he said, "c'mon, you knew it was great."
And he's right. We're taught not to outwardly boast-- but if you're a creator of things-- of any type of thing-- you absolutely know when you're getting good at it.
So anyway, in 2006 I was ready to put out a new album-- that's when Dollar Theatre Movie came around. It actually took longer than I expected to get the album recorded and out there. I was working with a label for that one, and they had a set schedule-- from recording times to a PR push prior to a release-- that I had to be cool with. I wasn't really, and I understood why those kinds of things, especially the methodical PR pushes, are important to big record label like the one that I was on... but I also felt that they were ramping up like I was already an established artist, rather than a relatively unknown one. I still think they should have taken a much quicker, much more grass roots approach to the release, but let's face it, if there's one thing record labels aren't good at, it's changing. That's the way they do things, and so that's the way they did it with me.
So the record came out, and it flopped. Well... it didn't really flop... but it definitely floundered. The label did a pretty poor job with their methodical PR push. The reasons for this are long and boring... but let’s basically say that I did everything that was asked of me-- the writing of the record, the changing of a few songs, the recording, the interviews, the personal stuff, etc etc. I truly felt that the ball was dropped on their end. Again, going back to the egomaniac thing, I don't feel like this is an indictment of me as a person either. When art fails, the artist is the hardest on himself. I've given up on being hard on myself over DTM, and I'm left with a few gaping holes that I'm still staring through that happen to be on their side of the court, so that's the opinion I'm left with.
But let's face it-- I wouldn't have signed me if I were them in the first place. I appreciated the chance, but I kind of knew how it would go from the start. I did benefit from it, though-- radio play, the little PR that I did get-- it all helped establish my reputation in the singer-songwriter market. After the label and I parted ways, I started touring relentlessly, trying to keep what had built alive. Somewhere between the 250+ gigs a year, and the travel, and the self-management, and the self-booking, I managed to put together a pretty solid collection of songs.... For the first time I had the capital and the control to do whatever I wanted, so I recorded An Audio Guide To Cross Country Travel and released it on my own. It ended up selling more units then DTM did, which was a bit of a pleasant surprise.
And throughout all of this-- from Hillbilly Pilgrim to the beginning of the release of Audio Guide, the way in which people connect to each other changed dramatically. It was constantly becoming easier to stay in touch with people.... so I started to think about how I could tailor this to fit my needs as far as music went. That's when I decided to release a free acoustic record. My overhead was low, making things available digitally was easy, and it was a great way to remove all excuses people could use to not check out my music. It's free, and it's at your fingertips.
So that did really well-- a TON of people downloaded the album. And for the people who wanted a physical product, we came up with a limited edition album for them-- that also did well. So I toured like crazy behind that, writing new songs, planning to record some of the unreleased songs on the live album (Alone, But Not Lonely). All of this has been about a grassroots campaign. Stay in touch with your fans, keep giving them something new to listen to, and always let them know how much you appreciate their support. The plan was always to do Audio Guide, then do Alone, But Not Lonely, and then come back in about a year with a new studio album... so in essence, that's three albums in a little under two years, as music time goes.
As long as my writing can keep pace with my touring, my release schedule will probably stay like this going forward. It's not a matter of being prolific, I think it's a matter of adjusting my output to meet the needs of an ever-demanding, ever-changing consumer base. The more times I can get a good product in front of them, the more often they'll think of my music-- the more often they think of my music, the more likely they are to come to a show-- the more likely they attend, the more likely they dig what I do (I think the live show is where I excel). That's how you develop hardcore and dedicated fans... and in the age where being a superstar shouldn't be any musicians goal, I think the more hardcore fans you win over (and retain) the more successful you'll be as you attempt to carve out a niche for yourself.
Damn your timing and damn your honest and thoughtful answer. I open up my browser and decided to take a quick look at your reply and you go and get the gears turning and make me want to shirk my paid work and respond right away for my unpaid and largely unread blog. I guess I'll have to bounce between this email and pushing papers.
You spoke to your music and albums as someone who is self employed. Obviously, the business end of things can't be avoided and I'm sure it stares you in the face on a regular basis. You can't avoid it, but I imagine the stage is a bit of a sanctuary where you're able to forget about the minutiae and just live the songs for whatever time you're allotted. As someone looking in from the outside of the music business, I always find it fascinating to peel back the curtain a bit and get a glimpse of the nuts and bolts. In a way, I think you're lucky to be at this stage in your career now instead of, say, a musician at the same point 10 or 15 years ago. You've been able to see things like Napster, AIM, MySpace, CDBaby, iTunes, Facebook, blogging, etc. grow from their infancy and have been able to tailor the way you reach and interact with your fans to fit all of the flashy new technology. If you had come along much earlier, you may have found yourself entrenched in the typical album, tour, album, tour, rinse and repeat cycle and unable to be so adaptable and responsive. I think things like the postcard project you did and the over and above willingness to dive into the house shows is exactly what is needed in today’s musinomical (just made it up...music + economical...feel free to use it or improve on it) climate to foster the approachable grassroots business model you're operating with.
Is the songwriting itself a part of the business for you, or is that purely an artistic venture? I remember reading something years ago about Ryan Adams (talk about prolific), where he said something along the lines of if he wasn't always writing, rewriting, or otherwise working at a song, he felt like it was a disservice to his fans. He considered it his 9 to 5 to be writing instead of just living the life and slacking off in his non touring time, though he managed to do his share of living the life in the past. I guess the man is a good multitasker.
Is there a "standard" process for you to write songs at this point in your career? Are you the type to sit down for x number of hours and grind out a songwriting session like us folks with our fancy desk jobs, or is your method more of the organic "out of the ether" kind?
I've had to really work at separating the artistic side from the business side of what I do. You're absolutely right on the self-employed thing. That's exactly what I am. I manage my business, I book my shows, and I come up with ways to sell my product... which is essentially me-- what comes out of my head and lands on the paper. There aren't any sick days in this job. I haven't taken a personal vacation day since my honeymoon over 6 years ago. That's not a bad thing-- this kind of work is incredibly rewarding-- but man, time can really get away from you, especially when the hours of operation range from waking up in the morning to long after most normal people are in bed. I've found that I am most successful when I treat it as a regular job-- get up early, get working on things early. If I can get the clerical and managerial things out of the way by noon, that leaves me the rest of the day to be a writer. I've had to get out of the "I'm a musician, I sleep in" mentality to make all of this work.
I used to write every day-- even if I had nothing to say. It wasn't because I felt that I owed my work ethic to anyone-- I just felt like I needed to do it in order to call myself a songwriter. As I've progressed through my career, however, I've learned that a regimented approach like that in regards to writing isn't for me. I write when I feel inspired to write. I may write 15-20 songs in a year, and I'll record 10-12 of them... my keepers have started to heavily outweigh the throwaways. What I have regimented is actually my time. As long as I provide myself the time to write if the inspiration should strike me, I'm doing my job. If I don't have anything to say, what's the point of sitting down and trying to force it? I know a lot of writers would disagree with me, but that's ok. I don't think there's any right or wrong way to approach writing. Anyone that tells you otherwise is probably the same type of person that thinks they are never wrong when engaged in an argument. Either that, or they're a professor of creative writing, and they've fallen into the pace of training yourself how to write. Before you find your voice, you have to work very hard at writing. Once you find it-- once you know how to find it when you need it-- you can settle into the best routine for you.
For me, I can feel a song coming. It's something I can't really explain. I'll just get this feeling that I'll be writing something soon, and so I start looking at things differently... looking for things in places I wouldn't otherwise look. It's like I can flip some extra sense on in my brain... and then the song will show up, I'll write it, and then I'll go back to normal for a while. Sometimes I'll write two or three songs in a few days, and then not write again for a month or two. Sometimes it's like clockwork-- once a month. Sometimes it's not there at all. Inspiration can't be faked, and I think my patience in waiting for it has shown itself in the ratio of keepers to throwaways as far as my song count goes.
The stage is a bit of a respite- I admit... but I'm always thinking about the business. If you're playing a listening room, you can get away with mostly downtempo songs... if you're playing a room that wants something upbeat, you have to make sure you can thread your songs together into a seamless set list that provides your audience with the kind of entertainment they're looking for. Truth be told, if I never had to worry about the mood of the crowd, I'd probably never write another upbeat song for the rest of my life. I love ballads for some strange reason. So, yes, once you're in a song, you can live in the song... but in between... before and after a show-- you have to think about your business. How can I be memorable between songs? How do I carry myself before I walk onto stage. How do I interact with my fans after a show is over? And of course, you have to keep yourself from throwing a bottle at some dude's head because he's being the most annoying drunkard on the face of the earth. I do something like that, and I can kiss my business goodbye.
Not saying that I would do that-- but I challenge you to find one musician who hasn't wanted to pound "that guy" at a show. There's no more uncomfortable feeling than being pulled out of a song by some dude that is standing right in front of you screaming for the cliché song of the decade.
The songs themselves aren't really a part of the business. Yes, there are standard formations of songs, ie verse verse chorus verse chorus bridge chorus... but they're more guidelines than anything else. Sure, radio wants a song to come in around 3:30 long-- they make their money on advertising, and they're more likely to play your music if it fits into a set in which they can sell the max amount of ad time. I don't write songs for radio (though I probably should think about it more often). I write songs for the songs' sake. For my sake. People seem to connect with what I do. Maybe more would connect if I was a little more mindful of radio.. but I'm happy with what I produce, and I don't have any plans on changing my approach for that. We're blessed to have some radio stations in Texas that play a lot of songwriter stuff... so I have a built in group of stations down here that I can rely on (if I continue to write at the level that I have, of course)... but my goal isn't to write something that ends up in A rotation on the major Clear Channel country stations across the country.
Therein lies the problem with radio, and part of the problem with the music business, in my mind. It's the old "too many eggs in the same basket" thing. There are only a few major labels that have the ability to compete in the national market. In turn, there are only a few large companies that control the majority of radio stations across the country. So, it's logical that if the major label has a good connection with the person in charge of mandating those radio playlists across the country, that label will have a good chance of getting their artist played. In the old days, they called that "Payola." People will tell you that it doesn't exist anymore, and at face value maybe it doesn't... but you're fooling yourself if you think those relationships between, say, Universal and Clear Channel don't exist.
So I'm already out of that game. The game I am able to play is for the indie radio stations and for the aggressive music consumer... for the internet radio stations... for digital distribution and for album sales on a small scale. So that's what I focus on.
The bottom line is this: my business sense exists for two reasons-- to allow me to create and to allow me to make a living through those creations.
As long as I want to continue to put food on my table by creating, I have to stay on top of my business day in and day out. I think it's a fair sacrifice.
I can't say I envy that you have you juggle the artistic side of things with the business side on a daily basis. As an engineer, I get to let the left side of my brain do all of the heavy lifting and can save my right brain for fun things like the little at home film festival my wife and I are putting together for a small group of friends. It seems like it has been an important step in your career to compartmentalize your life and business. I think that must help you get to the point where you can - for lack of a better phrase - let the music guide the business instead of letting the business guide the music. That may not lead directly to regular radio play across the country, fame, fortune, and an entourage of yes men, but you're in a place where you can do things on your own terms and not feel compromised (except for when you have to keep yourself from picking up an amp and making it "that guy's" new hat). I'm a firm believer in the idea that quality will always be recognized in the end. There will always be a place for quality songwriters to hone their craft and there will always be people ready to listen. To draw a parallel to baseball, its like how poor Armando Galarraga tossed a perfect game (minus the horrible call at the end) and then ended up in the minors later in the season vs Roy Halladay following a regular season perfect game with his gem of a no hitter in the playoffs. We all knew Doc had that ability and no one would be surprised to see him do it again, but I don't think Galarraga was high on anyone's "most likely to pitch a no hitter" list. Call him a one hit wonder.
To shift things away from the nuts and bolts and toward the fun stuff, let me start by saying I sense a little bit of apprehension when you acknowledge your songwriting aptitude (I figure if I use big words, it might not inflate your already gigantic ego...hats can only be adjusted so much, after all). I think your friend Walt is right. There's no problem embracing it when you know you're doing things right. From the way you talk about your songs, it seems like there are bits and pieces of collaboration throughout your work. That should keep you from falling into the trap that a lot of people say has taken M. Night Shyamalan. He started believing it a little too much when everyone was telling him how brilliant he was and stopped taking advice - only trusting his own opinion of his work. By many accounts, his last few movies have been disasters. When you're writing, it seems that you're bouncing ideas off of and working with your peers to the point where you have no choice but to listen to their opinions. The collaboration has to help keep you grounded even as you're working on something that is undeniably good. There's certainly no shame in putting a song down on paper and thinking, "folks are going to dig this."
It was interesting when you spoke to the Dollar Theatre Movie experience. I had no idea you had those less than glowing feelings about it. It was definitely a departure from Hillbilly Pilgrim in the sense that it was more "produced" feeling, but I wouldn't necessarily call that a bad thing. I actually look at a song like "Baytown" (which I'll admit I haven't heard outside of that album) as being well served by the production. Those horns are slick. I am a sucker for a good pop song, though, so that could cloud my judgment. Anyway, in my opinion, An Audio Guide's (do you ever call it AAGTCCT?) struck a great balance between the production levels of HP and DTM. Is that a product of conscious work in the studio..."No, no. That track is too clean. Use the one where the D string was buzzing."...or time constraints..."No, Drew, you only have this space for another 2 hours. We can't bring your dog in to play kazoo on Room #27."
I think I've mentioned it to you before that I like "The Captain on The Highway" more and more every time I listen to it. There's a great loneliness in the song just being you and a guitar telling this little story. I have no idea if that is what you intended, but the lo-fi recording you did fits the song perfectly. I'm not sure if you're partial to ballads because of this, but personally, I love simple songs that are left with some room to breathe in them. There's no hiding behind a catchy hook in those songs. The storytelling is front and center. If The Captain finds its way onto the upcoming album, may I humbly suggest that you keep it stripped down. There is something special about a song that can move you with only about 10 lines.
Like "The Captain," I've noticed that many of your songs - and the majority of your album titles - deal with movement and travel. That seems to be a theme that winds its way through Americana in general. Is your thematic exploration of movement/change/travel a way of embracing Americana, or am I reading too far into a happy coincidence? Or is it simply a way to insert a bit of autobiography into songs that are generally (at least not on the surface) not "Hi, I'm Drew. This is a song about me." songs?
I would love to get to the point that the music dictates the business-- that's been one of my big goals all along. I don't want to be financially loaded to the nth degree-- I just want to know that I'll be able to do this for the rest of my life and reach the unavoidable financial goals that I've set for myself, and those that have been set for me in regards to my education and upbringing.
That's the biggest struggle I face with myself every day-- yes, it's great that I get to create for a living... but is it right? Is it what I should be doing? It's so hard for me to let go of the notion that dollar signs equal success. That a big house and a nice car are the trophies of your labor. I, of course, detest the general idea of things being the measuring stick for ones success, but let's face it- that idea has been beaten into us since elementary school. It's hard to get something out of you that has been so deeply engrained in your consciousness.
I don't think it's ever a good thing to be comfortable with your success. Art is largely created through conflict. It doesn't have to be personal conflict or a conflict created by chemical dependency or anything like that. The nagging presence of "it's not good enough-- don't call it good-- it's just ok," is what drives me to focus on becoming a better writer. The second I think to myself, "well, you've finally done it-- you've written one of the greatest songs on earth and you will do no better," is the second I stop being an artist. If there's no mystical mountain peak on which to set your sites, chances are there's no fire inside pushing you to excel. No drive to exceed, no quality work. I think you're point about Shyamalan is an apt and fitting one in this type of conversation. It's not just in music or movies, it's everywhere: surround yourself with "yes" men and chances are you're going to be blindsided by failure.
While the DTM experience on the business side of things was a less-than-glowing experience, I still really love the album just as I loved making it. It stands on its own, no matter how various business practices affected its overall sales figures and length of exposure to new listeners.
I try not to think about how the production on an album will compare to the production on a previous album. People talk about staying in the same vein, staying true to the style that got you where you are when it comes to making albums. I don't really think about that. I have no desire to do a techno project or a metal project... I just like writing songs, and the style in which I am most comfortable is unlikely to change. I think that in and of itself will keep the common thread between the projects. When I think about production, I simply think to myself "how do you want this song to sound?"
Any changes you hear are basically reflections of my ever-changing tastes in music. That's not to say I was a fan of one particular style one week, and then a fan of another style the next-- I'm speaking more on a nuanced level... I'm currently digging a lot of sparse, roomy records, and so I have a good feeling that the new album will reflect that. More than anything, the freedom to do what I wish in that regard is a really liberating and exciting. There are times when I opt for a dirtier tone vs. a cleaner tone, but it's just a stylistic preference. Look at it this way-- I can choose to rock a beard, a mustache, a goatee, or be clean shaven-- but it's all just a way to slightly alter my face. The face is still there, it just differs from time to time in the presentation. Of course I'd love to have more time in the studio to experiment with sounds and arrangements-- but too much time and an endless budget can also be a bad thing. I've heard songs that were really stellar in the raw be completely ruined on albums by people with too much time on their hands. Recording music means that you're giving up a little bit of perfection-- it's never going to be perfect, so why strive for perfection? No one hears my album the way I hear it-- they don't know who played what, what I would change, what I don't like, what I hear every time I listen to this one particular song-- they just hear it the way it's presented as a whole... I'm speaking about the average listener, of course. You can really drive yourself crazy trying to attain studio perfection. It's why The Eagles broke up... it killed their relationships and it killed their band. Making music is a joy-- as soon as it starts feeling like a laboring task, you've gone too far. I work on a song until an idea starts to weigh it down, and then I nix the idea and call what I've done up to that point good for the most part. It's kind of a feel thing.
Thanks for the kind words on The Captain and the Highway. That recording came out really great. I started the song at 6:30 in the morning, finished it by 7, and had it on my website by 7:15. I'm not sure why I did that... but anyway, it's as raw and emotional a version that is ever likely to exist. It will be on the new album, and it will be sparse. Look for a video to pop up next week on that song-- it'll give you a pretty good idea of how it will be treated for the record.
Damn that idea of travel in songs-- it haunts me. I try to avoid it, since everyone does it... but I can't. It's a "write what you know" game... and I certainly know travel. Sometimes travel will sneak into a song and I won't even realize it until I've started gigging the song... so let me think... of the 10 songs I have for the new album travel is mentioned or thematically involved in.... 8 of them. Damnit. Oh well.
It's something that I wrestle with, and I'm not entirely sure why I care, or why it's always there. I guess I worry that people will think, "oh, more traveling songs from Kennedy."
But then again, they haven't gotten so tired of it that I'm not selling records or tickets... so I guess I'll stick to what I know.
I'm not doing it on purpose... it's just a constant in my life right now, and so I guess it'd be dishonest of me to try and ignore it. Movement is important to me, creatively speaking. So many great writers have a lot of personal conflict to draw from. Thankfully, I don't... so I kind of have to create it... Whether that's in a character song, or it's in a song that comes from observations recorded during my travels... there has to be conflict in order to create. When I start writing songs without conflict, I'll probably be writing for a childrens record (don't worry, I have no designs on doing something like that). This again is all preference. I dislike songs that don't have any meat for me to chew on... I like to think about what it means, what it says and what it isn't saying. I have never been a fan of music that doesn't make me think. Sure, I like 8 Days A Week-- but it's mostly melody and it's an easy listen. If you're going to give me The Beatles, give me The White Album or Rubber Soul or Abbey Road. The stuff that's got more depth, lyrically. Do-wop and music like that was all about melody, and it shows. Some of the best, most memorable melodies that have ever been created come straight out of that era of music... but the stuff that really gets me is the stuff that, no matter when it was written, gives me something to think about. I think my love of meaningful and intelligent words is reflected in my writing, and it's something I'm constantly trying to perfect. It's also a flaw, though. I can get pretty out there, and unless I'm sitting next to you to explain what I was thinking when I wrote the song, it might not make sense. That's a bad trait to have as a writer, and I'm trying to work on that. All in all, though, I'd rather err on the side of complexity over simplicity. It makes me feel better about a song when I finish it if it's complex, and really, I'm just writing for me anyway. I'm just lucky writing for me seems interesting enough to other people that they support what I do.
I have a couple of things I'd like to run with in response to your last email, but I need to get this out of the way first for the sake of accuracy...Set me straight. Is it The Captain on or The Captain and The Highway? The relatively insignificant difference will drive me crazy until I have it right.
On the subject of travel in music, it may be commonplace, but it is a theme that people of all kinds can identify with. I don't spend long hours driving through the middle of the night on poorly lit rural highways, but I often find my mind wandering to interesting places even when I'm just taking the back way home from work. I even wrote a meandering blog post about my experience driving between Akron and Pittsburgh with Josh Ritter keeping me and my wife company. I'm sure volumes have been written about the sociological implications, but us Americans have a deep relationship with our cars and the open road. You can't help it if (dare I say) you have a ramblin' heart. I think the rest of us do, too. And, thankfully, we can live vicariously through the travelling songs we love while we're stuck at our desks. As long as you keep putting songs out there with enough depth to them, I doubt anyone is going to get bogged down in the fact that 80% of them might have some element of travel in them. Take "Rolling Around in the Bed" for example. Conceptually, that song could lead you into pure country cliché territory (you left out the dog, though), but (at least from what I get out of the song) you built the song around a great play on words, kept from spelling the whole thing out, and added in a dash of regret to boot and the end product is a song with depth where I can forget about a truck even being mentioned.
On conflict in writing...you may be able to write some stuff for kids, after all. Don't shut out a whole demographic without giving them a chance. Look at the Dr. Seuss books. There's conflict all over the place in those and they're classics. I'd argue that most stories without any conflict, be it internal or external, aren't worth telling at all. "Once upon a time, they lived happily ever after," just doesn't cut it. We all need the meat in a story to get anything out of it. We need the how and the why.
I'm happy to hear/read that you're enjoying the sparse side of music these days. Personally, I find myself drawn to sparse, lonely, melancholy sounding music quite frequently and I'm still trying to wrap my head around why it is so appeal to me. The only explanation I've been satisfied with so far is that I like sad music because of the total juxtaposition it has with my comfortable, happy upbringing, marriage, and life in general. I guess its just important to me to stay in touch with the full range of emotion through art. I never went through the "I'm listening to heavy metal to rebel against my suburban teen years" stage, but I found a great affinity for the sad stuff pretty early on. I've had some of my best concert experiences in the "listening room" type setting, when everyone in the room knows what they're getting into and is completely respectful of the artist/band and the music. My wife, my cousin, and I once went to see Mark Kozelek (formerly of the Red House Painters...currently records as Sun Kil Moon) somewhere in central Massachusets (I couldn't get tickets to the sold out show in Boston) and I swear you could hear a pin drop right before each song started. If you're unfamiliar with Kozelek's work, I'd suggest giving the Sun Kil Moon album "Ghosts of the Great Highway" a try. It should be up your alley...roomy songs, poetic lyrics, "Highway" in the title. It has it all.
The last thing I'd like to talk about in this email is your comment about complexity vs simplicity in your songwriting. I think one of the great things about music, and art in general, is that it is open for interpretation. Whether you spell it out or not, whether a song is opaque and vague and pulls from images of Eastern religion, or a simple drinking song that's just too damn catchy not to play, it means something a little different to everyone who hears it (a bit of a generalization, but I think you can understand what I'm getting at). I'm in the camp that feels that as soon as a song, painting, any other artistic venture is completed, it becomes less and less a "property" of the person or people who created it and more and more a "property" of those who are taking it in. As the writer of a song, you without a doubt control the finished product and whatever meaning you intend, but ultimately, the people listening to it control how it is received and interpreted. Just as I've expertly advised you to keep The Captain sparse (I'll ignore the fact that you were already doing it whether I said anything about it or not), I'd like to put my support behind you continuing to embrace thought provoking and nuanced songwriting. Go ahead and walk that line between complexity and confusion. If you end up on the wrong side of it on a song, you can always justify it by saying you wanted to leave it open for interpretation. Some people have managed to make entire careers out of being misleading.
sidebar: I'm thinking this will be easily the most wordy post my blog has ever seen (and I'm quite happy for that to be the case). I'm really enjoying the back and forth and could probably continue with it for the foreseeable future, however, it'll have to come to an end soon or I'll have to start a new blog called "Matt's ongoing conversation with Drew that will most likely bore the crap out of you." I think if you're up for responding to this email and then answering a handful of short questions (one word answers acceptable) that have little to nothing to do with what we've been talking about (Who would win in a fight, Donald or Daffy Duck?...well, maybe not that silly), that should be able to tie things up. I've probably wasted more of your time than I should, anyway. I'll admit, I'd much rather be typing up these emails than being an engineer. Also, I think with a video soon being available for The Captain, it would be great timing to be able to post this conversation/interview with the video attached.
It's The Captain and the Highway
Sorry it took me a while to get back to this one-- I was on the road, and these tend to get rather longwinded, and I didn't really want to be hammering away on my iphone for two hours.
I dig Sun Kil Moon-- I've had people tell me that my voice can remind them of his from time to time. Oh, and I wasn't really knocking kids stuff, I was just kind of using it as a metaphor more than anything else. I did Dr. Seuss. Also, I dig Shel Silverstein. Did you know he wrote a bunch of successful country songs? Look them up. They're interesting... and they're distinctly Silverstein.
I love complexity in songwriting. The "business," however, does not. I'm comfortable with being literate and occasionally veiled. They're not. And by they, I mean the people in Nashville who run publishing companies. Ideally, I'd love to get a few cuts and take it to the bank... but they seem to be very against the listener having to think for themselves. I think that notion is offensive at its core-- to both the writers and the listeners. Until they change their culture of how they do business, I'll be on the outside. And, I've always 100% subscribed to the same theory as you-- I write the song, I play the song, I record the song-- those things are all for me. Once I put it out there publicly, it's not mine anymore. Sure, I know what the songs are about.. but that only counts to me. My music, once released, means whatever the listener thinks it means. It's theirs.
I've always said that, and I continue to believe it 100%.
I'll keep you posted as to when the video is coming. I'm waiting to find that out myself. I also really like the one word answer idea. Give me as many of those as you'd like.
Hope all is well, hombre
I understand the aversion to iphone emails. I once tried to type a paragraph on my droid and I think it took about a half an hour.
I'm glad you're on board with the transferring of song ownership. There's a great give and take to music - especially live music - that keeps so many of us coming back for more and more. A band feeds off of the energy of a good crowd. The crowd feeds off of the band and each other. There's such a wonderful communal aspect to music that thankfully the powers that be in the music industry haven't managed to ruin for us (though ticket service and handling fees don't make things any easier on the concert-going public). All of the local bars and clubs around the world make it too hard for that to happen.
Ok, now onto the lightning round. One word or short phrase answers are expected, but if you want to elaborate, I won't stop you.
What is your favorite song to cover? Rayne, Louisiana (Bruce Robison)-- it was the first song I ever taught myself how to play on the guitar. Bruce has become a friend, and his writing continues to push me.
Can we expect any bluegrass (a la White Lightning) on the new album? No Bluegrass... though I wrote a good bluegrass tune with some friends, one of whom recorded it for his new album (his name is Jason Eady-- check him out!)
Snyder's or Wege? Wege all the way. Gotta pull for the little guy.
Favorite instrument (non-guitar)? Pedal Steel Guitar
Most intimidated you've been as an opening (or stage sharing) act? I played a live radio show once-- it was an hour long and the time was split between two artists, and is broadcast in front of a live audience inside of a bar.. about 50 people. Chip Taylor was up first and I was second. Why is that a big deal? Oh, well, you know, aside from being Jon Voight's brother, which also makes him Angelina Jolie's uncle, he was a hit songwriter back in the day (Angel of the Morning), and also a pro blackjack player for 10 years in Monte Carlo (or someplace exotic like that). Still no big deal? Well, he closed his radio set with another one of his hit songs that he wrote-- had the audience going crazy for it. Then packed up his stuff and split during the commercial break. I went out and broke a string right off the bad. The song: Wild Thing. Yeah, that one.
Now that your guitar has made a star turn on the golf channel, does it charge appearance fees? It's gotten so popular, it actually just retired from the road.
Have you ever honored a drunken "Freebird" request? No, never.
Beard or Moustache? Beard for life, Mustache for charity!
Name a band, song, or style of music that people would be surprised to know you dig. I absolutely love Miles Davis- Bitches Brew. One of my all time favorite albums.
How much do the Phillies regret trading Cliff Lee? Publicly- none. Privately- H U G E *
Do you know what all of the knobs, switches, and buttons in a recording studio do? No way. I know what like 5% of them do... and that puts me in pretty elite company. I think most of them are there to dissuade any of us from becoming engineers, and they don't actually do anything other than look confusing. Job security.
If you could share a stage with anyone, who would it be? Guy Clark
I apologize for the increasingly slow pace of my replies. If you ever have the urge to do some engineering work, I invite you to make the trip up to Annapolis and help me get out from under my giant to do list. That way, I can spend more time listening to and attempting to write something worthwhile about music.
As a short aside before I wrap this up...those Voights get around. Barry Voight was a professor of mine in college. Turns out he's a pretty knowledgeable volcanologist. Apparently there wasn't room for the whole family in the entertainment industry.
Anyway, thanks again for your time and the open and honest dialogue. This has been a lot of fun for me to do and I hope we can do it again sometime. Maybe I'll get myself a fancy recorder and do something in person the next time you make your way north. As a fan, I hope your music can bring you further north and east so my friends and I have more opportunities to see a show. As a sporadic faux music writer/cheerleader of music I like, I'm excited to see what comes of the new album and your continued growth as a songwriter. As a friend, I wish you continued success and happiness in the music world and life in general.
It was my pleasure man-- I enjoyed it as well.
On the road-- sorry for my brevity. Just know I really did love doing it!
* - This whole conversation took place before the Phillies became the mystery team in the Cliff Lee talks and ultimately signed him. Maybe I should pretend we knew it would happen all along.
* - This whole conversation took place before the Phillies became the mystery team in the Cliff Lee talks and ultimately signed him. Maybe I should pretend we knew it would happen all along.
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