Showing posts with label Brent Cobb. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brent Cobb. Show all posts
Aug 10, 2018
Traveling On: A Conversation With Jason Eady
By Kevin Broughton
Jason Eady is a country artist with a bluegrass soul. He cut
his teeth with his stepfather in central Mississippi, going to picking parties
and bluegrass jams, but his six solo albums to date have all been in a traditional
country vein. But on the heels of his critically acclaimed self-titled 2017
record, Eady has gone fully unplugged and put his own unique, rocking stamp on
the bluegrass ethos. With help from an A-list duo from the genre, he’s made his
best album to date, I Travel On, released
today on Old Guitar Records.
It’s a good-time record made by a man at peace with himself
and the world. We chatted about being positive while staying authentic,
clearing out a Croatian bar in Paris, and jumping out of a perfectly good
airplane. And other stuff.
I Travel On is a distinct departure – in several ways -- from your
self-titled 2017 album. That one made our top 10, but it was pretty understated
and a little somber in places. Musically and thematically this record may be
its polar opposite. What were your mindset and/or goals with regard to the
musical approach this time?
Well, this record and the last one seem pretty different,
but I think of the last record as a bridge to this one. Before the self-titled
album, I’d been very electric, with lots of steel guitar – country music.
Sonically, they were bigger productions – not huge, though – than the last
album. On the last one we kind of pulled it back; it was more of an acoustic
album. I Travel On is fully acoustic.
So I think there’s a sonic thread running through to it. And I had been wanting to move that
direction.
About three years ago we played a show in Bozeman, Montana.
And this room is fantastic; it’s one of those places everyone plays when they
go to Montana. But it is small. I
don’t know the actual capacity, but I would guess 30-40 people, and it’s wider
than it is deep, so there are only about four rows of chairs. And we started
bringing in all our gear, but the thought of cramming all those amps in just
seemed weird to me. So we grabbed all our acoustic guitars, stripped down the
drum kit and played the whole set that way. And it just sounded great. So I
went into the last album with that idea, and toured that way as well.
The first thing I
noticed on the opening cut, “I Lost My Mind in Carolina,” was that you brought
in a stud on acoustic guitar. Got a ringer on Dobro, too. Who are these guys,
and what was the recording process like?
Rob Ickes (dobro) and Trey Hensley (guitar) are the two
guys. And my favorite thing about this record is that it’s real and organic.
Our developed the sound by touring around and playing that way, where everybody
did their own natural thing. And we came up with a sound that’s sort of
bluegrass on the top end and a real groove on the bottom. While we were driving
around the country we listened to these guys – they’re a duo,
and they are absolute studs in the bluegrass world; their very first album
got nominated for a Grammy in the bluegrass category. They’re just phenomenal.
So as it came time to make this record, I wanted it to be
our live band, but I didn’t want there to be overdubs. I wanted the record to
sound like we’re all sitting in a room. Our lead player can do all those
things, but I didn’t want overdubs. So since we had been listening to them, and
I just called Trey and said, “Would you guys want to do this?” He said yes. It
came from a very real place; we didn’t just say, “Who are some studio badasses
we can call?” We tracked 100 percent live from top to bottom, no overdubs. Our
band would work them up the night before, but we had never played them with Rob
and Trey before we recorded. Everything you hear on this record is what you
would have heard if you had been standing in the room while we recorded.
Wow.
Yeah, I know!
There’s a real
blues/bluegrass feel to the whole thing.
I would never in the world set out and try to make a pure bluegrass record, because I have
way too much respect for the genre. To be in that world, you really have to
live it your whole life. You can’t dabble
in bluegrass. But yeah, it was a conscious thing we were going for; we’re
calling it “groove grass.” We wanted to hint at bluegrass, and people will
definitely hear that aspect of it, but with pure bluegrass you don’t have drums
or a bass guitar. “Groove grass” sums it up, really.
I want to get into
several specific songs in a minute, but something stands out on the album as a
whole and I’d like to get your take on it. Brent Cobb told me a couple of years
ago that it’s possible to write country or roots songs with authenticity and depth
without their all being sad and depressing. I think that’s rare, but it
certainly holds true for this album of yours – and to a large degree the last
one. What do you think of that premise?
You seem to be a pretty happy guy.
I am. And I love Brent, by the way, I think he’s one of the
best artists around today. Just incredible. But he’s right. And there’s that
temptation when you’re writing songs that you want to be authentic or real;
they can turn out depressing. But I wanted this album to feel good. There are
some points on the record where if you want to listen to words and dig into
meanings – and I worked hard on the words – there’s some depth to latch onto if
you want to listen to it that way. But I also wanted this to be a record that
you could just put on and play and enjoy.
I get that there’s a need for feel-good music, where you don’t have to
just think all the time. There are plenty of examples of people – like John
Prine and Paul Simon – who write great songs, but I don’t know what they mean
half the time. They just feel really good. Just put it on. Move your feet. Move
your head.
But Brent’s right; you have to pull yourself out of that
box, because it seems like there are two extremes in country music right now.
It’s either said and depressing, or it’s so fluffy, about drinking beer on the
river on the weekend.
Speaking of being a “Happy
Man,” there’s a song with that very title. Were you making a statement for the
record with that one?
I definitely was. I just wanted to get that out there. God
forbid if anything happened to me, anyone could listen to that song and know
that I’m a happy person and have lived a good life, and these are the reasons
why. Because when you boil it down, there’s really only a few things that make
you happy: There’s friends, there’s family, there’s doing what you love and the
experiences you have. Here, there are two verses with three things each that
make me happy. And at the end of it, I couldn’t think of anything else. The
simplicity of it was very intentional.
And the origin of it – I don’t want to drag this out but
this is a funny story – was overseas last year. We went to Paris, France to
play a festival and wound up in a Croatian bar right across from the Notre Dame
Cathedral. We could hear music playing inside that was lively, so we went in.
This was like a Tuesday night but there was a party going on, so we wandered
in. The bartender asks Courtney and me what we were doing there and we told him
we were musicians. He asks my name, and dials me up on Spotify, and just
started playing my music randomly, however that works. And it was just like three of my most
depressing songs, one after another.
Ha!
Yeah, man. Cleared out the bar. Everyone went outside to
smoke all at once. Killed the whole vibe of the room. I started getting depressed! And I thought, “Good gosh, if I heard
this for the first time I’d think this fellow is depressed, too. This guy’s got
problems.” So I wanted to get it out there, that it’s not the case. I’ve
written plenty of sad songs, but that’s just something I like to do sometimes.
And ironically, “Happy Man” is one of the slowest songs on the record.
About the only thing
that comes close to a downer on this album is “She Had to Run,” about a woman
getting out of a dangerous domestic situation. Is there a story behind that
song?
Yeah, I won’t go into the details of it because it’s a very
personal song, but one I needed to write. And I knew when I got ready to make
this album that this song would be the outlier, but it was too important to me.
I had to get that one on there. I just hope that maybe there’s one person who
hears it and thinks about getting out of a situation like that.
I won’t pry into
specifics, but let me ask: Does the person who inspired it know about the song?
She does. We haven’t talked about it a lot because it’s
still too close, too fresh. She got out, but it was frighteningly close. It was
so close that the next person who was with that guy didn’t get out.
“Always a Woman” is
intriguing. Tonally, it’s dark and in a minor key – by the way, is there
another chord, or just C minor?
That’s it, the whole way through.
Lyrically, it’s kind
of an ironic Valentine. “There’s only one thing between the devil and a good
man” is really clever, because it can mean two very different things.
Yeah, exactly.
Unpack that song for
me.
That’s the first song I wrote for this album, and the only
one where I had a title set beforehand. Courtney and I were hanging out with a
friend who was having a bad time and she asked what was the matter. He kind of
shrugged it off and she said, “Is it a woman?” He said, “It’s always a woman.”
I wrote that down, and I sat down with my guitar and just started droning on
that C minor chord. And it’s a very specific fingerpicking pattern that never
stops for four minutes; if you watch me play it my fingers [on the neck] never
move.
And like we were just talking about, I didn’t want to write
another sad song. So I had the first verse and thought, “This song has to turn.
‘Always a woman’ doesn’t have to mean good or bad.” So musically we used some
dynamics to change things up, and I tried to change that phrase from a positive
to a negative as well. And I think the whole theme of the record is finding the
positive in things and moving forward. And that’s why we called the album “I
Travel On.” It’s about moving forward. A lot of the songs are about physically
traveling; this one does it in a mental space.
And the
feedback/distortion thing is a nice backbone. Nothing electric there?
No! That’s the dobro player raking across the strings, and
the fiddle player doing it in some spots, muting his strings. Everybody thinks
there are electric instruments on that song and there aren’t. We had a
videographer come in and shoot while we were recording that song; you’ll see it
when it comes out.
And I guess you had
to include at least a couple waltzes to preserve domestic bliss. I take it
that’s your bride singing harmony on “Below The Waterline?”
Ha. Yeah, if you hear harmonies on this album there
Courtney’s. I’ve always wanted to write a bluegrass power waltz. I love those,
because they make the harmonies just scream. Courtney and I wrote that one
together.
I was gonna ask if
she got a co-write on that one.
She got two. We wrote that one, and “Now or Never,” the
second track on the album.
This is kinda random
but the key of C minor on “Always a Woman” made me wonder: Do you have a
favorite key, or one that you end up doing the bulk of your songs in?
I write most of my songs in D and I don’t know why. And I
had originally written that song in D minor, but when we got into the studio to
record we got to that point in the chorus where you go up, and I couldn’t quite
hit it. And when we lowered it, it kind of came alive, got darker.
Staying with random:
You recently went skydiving with your mom and daughter. What possessed y’all,
and would you do it again?
That was all my mom’s idea. She had originally wanted to do
that thing in Vegas where you bungee-jump off of a tower on one of the tall
buildings. And later we were together at Christmas and she said something about
skydiving, and my daughter wanted to do it with her. So I bought it for my
daughter, but every time they tried to go the weather was bad, then my daughter
went off to college. She was home a few weeks ago and the weather was perfect.
And on the drive over I thought, “When am I ever gonna get to do this again?
All three generations are here. This is once in a lifetime.”
Tell me about the
moment before you went out the door of the airplane.
It’s the most terrifying and exhilarating thing. On the way
up it’s in your head what’s gonna happen, but it’s just indescribable, the way
you feel standing in that door. If you’re not afraid looking out, you’re not
human. There’s nothing about it that’s natural or normal. You have to try and
get it out of your head, and trust the person who’s strapped to your back.
That was the worst moment, because we did a high jump. We were at 14,000 feet. I
loved it. But there’s really no way in the world to use words to describe what
it feels like.
Would you do it
again?
You know, when I first did it I said there was no way – I
was glad I did it but wouldn’t do it again. But there are times I find myself
thinking about it. I don’t think I’d go out of my way to, but if somebody said,
“You wanna go do this,” I think I probably would.
Y’all are doing
something kinda neat, a sightseeing, musical bus tour of Switzerland with 40
fans. I’m familiar with musical cruises; is this something y’all came up with,
or have others done it?
Courtney and I have gone to Switzerland five years in a row,
I think. We have a promoter over there and we love it there. And you can drive
from one corner of the country to the other in five hours. But we did something
like this last year, with Reckless Kelly and toured Ireland. We were their
guests And Courtney and I decided we had to do this in Switzerland. So it’s
seven nights and five shows, and we’re personally putting it together, where
we’re gonna stay and eat and the venues we’ll play. The response has been
great. We’re really excited about it.
I Travel On is out today.
Jun 13, 2018
Top 25 Songs of 2018 First Half Report
It was hard to narrow this down to 25. There have been some truly great and memorable songs released in 2018, and we're just halfway through. These are in no particular order.
*not a combined contributors' list - just Trailer's*
------------------------------
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Ashley McBryde - Tired of Being Happy
Lucero - To My Dearest Wife
YOB - Our Raw Heart
Willie Nelson - Something You Get Through
Caitlyn Smith - This Town is Killing Me
Kacey Musgraves - Happy & Sad
Brent Cobb - Mornin's Gonna Come
Kelly Willis - Back Being Blue
Buffalo Gospel - When Lonesome Comes Callin'
Joshua Hedley - Weird Thought Thinker
Lori McKenna - People Get Old
Dallas Moore - Somewhere Between Bridges
Trixie Mattel - Soldier
Blackberry Smoke w/Robert Randolph - I'll Keep Ramblin'
Manchester Orchestra - No Hard Feelings
Pusha T - The Games We Play
Caleb Caudle - NYC in the Rain
Old Crow Medicine Show - Look Away
Erik Dylan - Funerals and Football Games
Brandi Carlile - Sugartooth
Leon III - Alberta
Tami Neilson - Good Man
Whiskey Wolves of the West - Alexandria
Ruby Boots - Break My Heart Twice
May 17, 2018
May 8, 2018
Feb 20, 2018
Top 10 Biggest Jerks in Americana Music
Some would imagine that the fan-friendly, honest Americana music scene would not be as likely to contain divas and d-bags as the more mainstream genres of music. However, thanks to critic and hipster love for the buzzworthy genre, things have changed of late. This groundswell has slowly created a context wherein all manner of unlikely aspirants are more apt to let their jerk flag fly. Here are some of the genre's most egregious offenders.
10. Brent Cobb
"Forgets" to invite cousin Dave to family functions
Band members only allowed to speak to him by text message
9. Rhiannon Giddens
Borrows band members' phones and logs out of everything
Once put a fan who accidentally called her 'Rihanna' in a triangle choke submission hold
8. Amanda Shires
Wouldn't speak to husband, Jason, for a month when he opposed the name "Taco Lucinda" for their daughter
Performed an entire show of Rob Thomas covers when one crowd was smaller than anticipated
7. Rob Baird
Always eats the middle cinnamon roll out of the pan first
Spends hours a day leaving 1 star iTunes reviews on other Americana artists
Will only autograph thongs
6. Shooter Jennings
Puffs, doesn't pass
Got a secret tip and sold all his Bitcoin to Marilyn Manson just before Bitcoin crashed
Plans to do an all-EDM tour later this year
5. Ward Davis
Secretly bullies Cody Jinks
Still says "Dilly Dilly!"
Keeps telling everybody new music is coming "soon" but it never does
4. Holly Williams
First person to ingest a Tide Pod on video
Can only name 3 Hank Sr. songs
Drives 10 mph below speed limit in left lane
3. Drew Kennedy
Never cleans stations in the gym after using them
Doesn't wash out the sink after beard grooming
Tour rider includes "organic kale candy" and "fitted hemp Phillies cap"
2. Courtney Patton
Spreads rumors about Jamie Lin Wilson on Snapchat
Tells dirty jokes at funerals
Vapes dill pickle flavor at songwriting sessions
1. Paul Thorn
Does the old "replace the vodka with water" trick on his tour bus
Constantly reminds fans he used to be a boxer
Never plays his top 5 songs on Spotify in concert
Always has a few credit card skimmers on hand
Jun 14, 2017
Jan 13, 2017
Brent Cobb: The Farce the Music Interview
By Kevin Broughton
Brent Cobb is an old soul. He’s wise and even-keeled like
you’d expect a man twice his 30 years to be. Heck, he sounds old on the phone; his conversational tone matches up with a
grizzled roughneck, not the soothing troubadour on Shine On Rainy Day. Critical acclaim poured forth upon the album’s
October release, and it finished at a heady No. 4 in the FTM critic’s poll –
ahem – no small feat. Our intrepid publisher described perfectly it as “a slow drive down a gravel road on the outskirts of your hometown, with
nary a bro in sight.”
And therein lies the irony.
Or paradox. Whatever, the bro issue
is inescapable in a discussion of Cobb’s musical journey, and it’s evident that
the dichotomy puzzles the man himself. Because this guy – who hasn’t needed a
day job outside of music for 10 years – has written plenty of songs that bros
and their producers have fattened their wallets on. And while Cobb would never
say it, the bros and their auto-tuning technicians commit aggravated musical
assault on his art, dumbing it down in the pursuit of (a) filthy lucre; and (b)
the approval of millions of 80-IQ drones.
Oh, his frustration
occasionally bubbles up, but in an understated way in keeping with his gentle
temperament. Except that one time two years ago when he went into the studio to
vent; that’s when “Yo, Bro” caught the ear of notable outlets like Rolling Stone. (Though, by the way, Cobb
sent it to FTM first.) The magazine was one of many platforms to make the
obvious comparison of his parody song to the work of one of the reigning bros,
who happened to be a friend of Cobb’s.
It picked up steam to the point the artist felt compelled to preemptively
reach out to the pop star in question. “He asked me,” Cobb said, “whether I was
making fun of bros, or if it was something I wanted him to record.”
Yeah.
It’s a stretch to say Cobb
has a foot in both camps. It’s indisputable, though, that there’s some overlap
because of his personal and professional relationships. It gives him a unique
perspective into the critical/commercial contrast, and you won’t find anyone
with Cobb’s artistic integrity who has such a realistic window into the tragic
dumbing down of country music.
When Jody Rosen coined the term “bro country”
three and a half years ago, it cut deep with the thin-skinned millionaires
whose songs are confined to beer, trucks and heavy petting with loose women.
Jason Aldean – who stares at the orange juice can because it says concentrate – remarked, “It bothers me
because I don’t think it’s a compliment.”
“You have no idea,” Cobb says, “how personally they take it.
You wouldn’t think it would bother them too bad, since all they have to do is
go to the mailbox and pick up a check. I don’t know why it bothers them so
much, but it does.”
Brent Cobb may never sleep in piles of money; he’ll also
never have to worry about the respect of his peers.
On a Sunday in December, Cobb took a break from singing the Frozen soundtrack with his little girl
to talk about songwriting. And the music business. And having a cousin who
churns out Grammys for the guys program directors ignore. The “bro” thing may
have come up, too.
I’d like to start
with a question about tradecraft. For a while you made a living writing songs
for other people. Is there a different mindset for writing a song for somebody
else? I would imagine you attack it differently, for instance, when the goal is
to get a song on mainstream radio.
Well, I got lucky, really. I’m with a great publishing
company, Carnival Music, that’s always supported people and let them be their
own artists and writers. I can’t imagine being anywhere else. There are a lot of places in town,
where you go in and it’s a nine-to-five, and you have to try to write hits and
that sort of thing. I’ve never had any of that kind of pressure. And for some
reason I’ve gotten lucky enough; the songs I’ve written I’ve always done for
myself. And I’ve been fortunate that there have been folks to record them.
About six months
before the release of Shine on Rainy Day,
there was the compilation from your cousin Dave Cobb, Southern Family. Your song on it, “Down Home,” seems like a preview
for the album. Was that a song you’d been working on for a while? Put another
way, if Dave hadn’t done the compilation, would that have been the eleventh
song on Shine On?
I’m sure it would’ve been, man. It’s funny. I had gotten
started on that song and had maybe a half a verse or a full verse. When Dave
gave me a call [about the compilation] I knew it would be a perfect fit. But
it’s definitely a Sunday in the life of my Southern family. And on my album
there’s definitely a lot of that, so yeah, no doubt it would’ve been the
eleventh track.
It looks like y’all had a lot of fun recording that one.
Oh, yeah. It was definitely good to get back in the studio
with Dave; it had been about 10 years since I’d done that with him. So it was a
blast. I’ve said this before, but he kinda produces the way I write. There’s a
lot of spur-of-the moment stuff, and if he says, “something doesn’t feel
right,” he means from his heart, not technically. And that’s the way I’ve
always approached writing songs.
You met your cousin
Dave, I believe, when you were about 16. He was an established producer then,
but not the big name his is now in the industry. He’s kind of a big deal….
That’s what I’m saying!
…How big an asset is
it to have a producer who’s not just blood kin, but the hottest hand in
Nashville right now?
Ah, that’s gonna be pretty beneficial. It’s definitely
helped me out a lot. When we first met I was 17, and he had produced Put the O Back in Country by Shooter
[Jennings], which was one of my favorite records at that time and is still one
of my favorites.
And it was funny, man. When I moved up here [Nashville]…
well, actually, I moved to L.A. for a minute. I lived in the middle of
Hollywood for about four months and went back and forth for about a year and a
half. Then I moved back to Georgia, then back
to Nashville in March of ’08. And I was looking around trying to find a
publishing deal and learning about being a staff writer. And the first thing
everybody asks is, “Are you a songwriter or an artist?”
So I would always say, “I thought they were one and the
same.” And they said, “Well, we’ve gotta get you a producer.” And I told
everybody the same thing, for eight years: I’ve got a cousin who’s a producer,
and he’s badass. But folks were a little scared to invest money in someone
who’s somebody’s cousin who happens to be a producer. And I didn’t have the
money and Dave didn’t have the money, so we sorta did what we had to do there
for a second. But now a lot of those naysayers are red in the face, I believe.
[Laughs.]
Around the time Something More than Free came out, Jason
Isbell talked about the collaborative way he and Dave worked in the studio.
Your cousin, he said, had a real knack for knowing where to place a bridge, for
example, or whether to start a song with a chorus or a verse. Did you
experience a similar chemistry in the studio?
Yeah. Well, definitely on my first album, Dave would
structurally set up songs. I was 17 at the time. And there’s still a lot of
that because he’s just got such a great instinct for… well, I might think a
song is incomplete and he might say, “I think it’s done; let’s just put this
little melodic thing at the end.” He’s just fantastic, and that’s why everybody
loves him, because he thinks like an artist. Well, he is an artist, not just someone who can afford a bunch of equipment
and calls himself a producer.
I imagine he’s as
valuable – if not more so – than any great session man.
Yeah! And going back to the staff-writing thing, I approach
that the same way Dave does: It’s a collaboration that comes down to “What’s
best for the song?”
How long had you been
working on this batch of songs? Did you do any writing while in the studio?
Some of them longer than others. Like I said, I’ve always
written for myself, so I’ve always had a deep pocketful of songs that kinda
lent themselves to this album. But some of them I finished up in the studio in
the moment; I might have a melody in mind and I’d say, “What do you think about
this one, Dave?” So, a little bit of both.
There’s an uplifting
air to this album of yours. There’s sort of a demarcation point, I think, between
the first seven and last three songs, but for the most part there’s kind of a
contentment running through it. Is this a reflection of your personality and
general outlook on life?
I think it has to be. I come from a very musical family, a
positive family, a loving family.
For me, it’s been a long decade professionally in music and I’ve seen
some people come behind me and excel and surpass me. But I’m still rockin’,
professionally. I’ve been able to make a living from just music for almost a
decade. So I’ve gotta be positive.
The other thing I wanted to show, you know…I’m friends with
everybody on both sides of the fence; I can’t really pick a side because I’ve
got so many friends on both sides of this invisible wall. My thing is, I wanted
to do country music in such a way that just because you’re going beyond
scratching the surface and doing something a little deeper, it doesn’t have to
be depressing. You can write something that feels good and also has a little
more meaning to it, a little more depth.
So that was always in the back of my mind while I was
putting this album together. And also – having a two-year-old – I wanted to put
something out where if I never did anything else, my daughter could listen to
it and say, “Man, that was my daddy’s album!”
 |
| From Brent Cobb's Instagram |
You'd easily fit into the mainstream country neo-traditional revival
(artists like Stapleton, William Michael Morgan, Jon Pardi). You've seemingly gone the more
straight-Americana/less-commercial route. Was that a business decision, or just
staying true to your style and comfort level?
Yeah, it’s just the way I write. If you
go the traditional or commercial route, there’s just so many people who have to
get involved, and that wouldn’t have been a good representation of what I do.
This album is just natural.
And, speaking of the commercial route, let’s talk about an elephant
in the room. There are several folks in the “mainstream” camp who’ve recorded
your songs. You wrote “Tailgate Blues” and Luke Bryan had a hit with it. (editor’s note: was a popular album cut) It might be hard for folks to reconcile
the songs on Shine on Rainy Day with
that one. Was that a case of “well, that’s just what the music-listening public
wants, so give it to them?”
No, that song was originally written
for me. I had a verse or two, and it was originally called “Mossy Blues.” And I
would ask people to go and listen to the lyrics of that song * before they made any judgments like, “Oh, he wrote that song for
Luke Bryan.” Because – and I don’t really want to be the one to say it – if
they listen to it, it’s structurally different. There are some of the same
phrasings, but we’re from the same area. But I think you can tell the
differences in depth.
And my co-writer, Neil Medley – it was
one of the first songs I’d had a co-writer for, and this was about five years
ago – he’s the one who said “Let’s call it ‘Tailgate Blues.’”
Well, that was certainly some foresight, right there.
[Laughs]. Isn’t that funny, man? And
look, I’m not saying we were the first ones to write about a buzz, or write
about a tailgate or crickets and stuff, because we damn sure were not. But
during that time period not a lot of people were saying that stuff. And then,
about a year or so after that…[laughs].
What’s more likely to happen: Brent Cobb writing another song about
a truck, or Luke Bryan covering “Down in the Gulley?”
Luke would do Down in the Gulley.
Yeah, but would you want him to? Wait. You don’t have to answer
that.
Of course I would! I want everybody to
do whatever they want to do. Wouldn’t it be cool to hear Luke do Down in the
Gully? That would probably change everything.
Well, it would help your bottom line, no doubt… So, you apparently
dipped your toe into satire and wrote something called “Yo, Bro.”
[Laughs] Aw, I should’ve sent that to
you.
I’d love to hear it, but I can’t, since all traces
of it have disappeared from the Internet. Can you clear up this mystery?
Ah, well…For about four or five years,
I averaged doing about 120 dates a year, and when we found out we were having
our baby, I decided I’d leave the road and just focus on songwriting. And
during that time, it was at the height, the peak really, of the bro country
movement, and I couldn’t get anybody
to listen to any of my songs.
So I got kinda pissed off. And what
happened…I won’t say any names, but I had a couple folks who are kinda high up
– Luke WAS NOT one of them – a couple folks in that camp told me, “Man if you
could just write some stuff that leaned that way, you could probably have a lot
of success.” And it really bothered me because it ain’t that I can’t do that; I
just don’t do that.
I decided to write something that was
that style of song, and I wanted to do it better than they can write their own
style of song. [Pauses] Against them. As a matter of fact, Neil Medley – the
same guy who co-wrote “Tailgate” – that’s who I wrote “Yo, Bro” with. And it
worked.** [Laughs] It did a lot of what I thought it would do; I figured it
would go over a lot of the bro fans’ heads…
That’s not a very high bar, Brent…
And later they were like, “Wait, I
think he’s making fun of us, but it doesn’t matter because it sounds so cool.”
What I didn’t expect to happen was that a lot of the more traditional fans – I
expected them to get the joke – but it kinda backfired on me and said, “Aw,
he’s a bro hatin’ on bros.”
[Howls with laughter]…
Yeah, that’s what happened. So, I
pulled it off the Internet. Someday I’ll put it back out there, but I took it
off before I put this record out because I didn’t want people to be confused
and not get the joke. Luckily we’ve got folks like [Trailer] and ole Trigger
(Saving Country Music) who do get the joke. But a lot of folks didn’t, so I
just didn’t want to deal with that.
Back to Southern Family for
a second: It’s become a cliché, what with the mainstream country bros checking
all the boxes (trucks, dirt roads, etc.) to show they’re authentically rural on
all their songs. On “Down Home,” you touch all the bases yourself, yet it’s
valid on its face. Did you write that song as sort of an ironic wink at the bro
template?
Nah, I didn’t really think of it that
way. The thing is, I’m friends with some of those guys. There was one time we
were sitting around in the writing room writing a song, and I had this really
cool idea. Where I grew up my
grandpa had a junkyard. He had a hundred acres that my great-grandpa bought for
a dollar an acre after World War I, and on one part of it was this junkyard.
So I had this idea about how things
rust away in a junkyard, but it can still be beautiful; a really rural song,
you know? So this one guy – and man this is one of the top dudes, and again I’m
not gonna say any names. He says, “Well, does that pass the Bubba test?” I
asked him what the “Bubba test” was. “As in Bubba back home; is he gonna get
it?”
It bothered me so much. And I was a young buck, just a low man on the [Nashville]
totem pole. I told the guy, “Well, I don’t think we’re gonna be able to write anything
together. Ever.” And I just got up and walked out. Who knows; maybe if I hadn’t
walked out I could’ve had a bunch of bro hits. [Laughs] But it just bothers me,
man. It’s an epidemic, and what I don’t understand is, those guys are from there (the rural South.) They know
that things are deeper. I don’t know whose fault it is, whether it’s the fans
of that music; I don’t know if it’s the record labels, or the radio, or if it’s
just people getting there and selling where they’re from short. I don’t know
whose problem it is. But it’s unfortunate, because it’s much richer, where
we’re all from.
Yeah. As a lifelong Southerner, it chaps me when in the movies, for
example, every Southerner is gonna be a dumb yokel…
Always…
…and these guys, they’re reinforcing that stereotype and lining
their pockets. And now they’ve added an element of soft-core porn to it,
singing about trying to get in some skank’s pants…
yeah…
…and it’s not healthy.
You know, I hate to name-drop because I
know these guys and they’re all heroes of mine. But my wife and I were talking
about this the other day. Guys like Kristofferson and Willie, when they talked
about a woman, it was so romantic. They did it in a way that was just
beautiful, man. You can still do that, dammit. It’s the same way with movies,
too. I love the movie Dazed and Confused;
it’s funny because it’s real-life, not over the top. What’s happening in all
genres of music, not just country, is that it’s over the top and exploitative
of whatever the truth is.
Lastly, are you doing any new writing, or is that something that’s
perpetual for you? And have you thought about what you might do for your next
album?
I have thought about it and I’m really excited about doing
the next album. It won’t stray too far from where I am already, though.
Cobb will play
a few dates late this month in the U.K., then come home for an extensive tour
with Nikki Lane in February.
Catch him when you can.
* Seriously, go listen. He’s right, and it’s a great song.
When sung by Brent Cobb, of course.
** Oh, man, does it ever work. Since the interview, your
humble correspondent received a copy from the artist on the condition of not
circulating it. It is brilliant.
Dec 27, 2016
Kevin's Top 10 Albums of 2016
Broughton’s Top Albums, 2016
1.
Austin Lucas, Between the Moon and the Midwest.
One of
two or three genuine country music masterpieces in a year of hearty
competition, I wrote in May that “somebody better pack a lunch if he wants to
displace this as the best country album of 2016.” Several worthy folks did, yet
here’s your champ. Lucas didn’t write and arrange; he composed. The
heartache is real, the vocals brilliant. Oh, and as a bonus it packs the finest duet of the year, with Lydia Loveless.
2.
Brent Cobb, Shine on Rainy Day.
A
terrific breakout album from a kind and humble Georgian, this record’s beauty lies in its simplicity. Yes, Nashville,
it’s possible to sing about the joys of rural living without sounding forced,
contrived, and stupid. Country music needs more Brent Cobbs. Maybe a dozen.
3.
Sturgill Simpson, A Sailor’s Guide to Earth.
I’m
probably in the minority, thinking this record is better than the blockbuster Meta
Modern Sounds in Country Music. Then again, the Grammy folks grew a brain
and made it an “album of the year” nominee in addition to best country album.
Sturgill does it his way again, while telling the Nashville suits to pound
sand. He’s the baddest ass in music, and we should all thank him.
4. Jack
Ingram, Midnight Motel.
It’s the
Texan’s best work yet, by a wide margin. And man, it’s sad. Wistful in some
spots, forlorn and outright hopeless in others, the one upbeat number is “I’m
Drinking Through It.” (“Sometimes you’re thirsty, sometimes you just need a
drink.”) Not an album you’ll listen to on a regular basis, but its
authenticity shines through in Ingram’s soulful vocals and sparse arrangements.
5.
Flatland Cavalry, Humble Folks.
“Easy on
the ears, heavy on the heart,” according to the band’s website. Yep. Bossman
Trailer nailed it in his review. This one’s a real keeper.
6.
Robbie Fulks, Upland Stories.
Let’s get
this out of the way: Robbie Fulks is a bona fide musical genius and a
real man of letters. It’s fitting that this album was inspired by James Agee’s nonfictional literary
triumph, Let Us All Praise Famous Men. The record’s first
track, “Alabama at Night,” snagged a Grammy nomination for best folk song.
Fulks, an elder statesman at the iconic Bloodshot Records, is the true triple
threat: Guitar virtuosity, brilliant lyrics, and a pure high tenor. If he has a
peer in the craft, I’ve yet to hear him.
7.
Cody Jinks, I’m Not The Devil.
Another
genuinely great country album in a year when the “neo-traditionalists” are
gaining traction. Packed with spiritual themes, this record should be an
exemplar to any bros out there who’d like to try something real for a change.
8.
Blackberry Smoke, Like an Arrow.
Their
best record yet, and it straddles the country and rock worlds with perfect
balance.
9.
The Handsome Family, Unseen.
It’s weird and wonderfully addictive. I dare you to
find a comparison. Go ahead. Try.
10.
The Flat Five, It’s a World of Love and Hope.
It’s five of Chicago’s best doing the happiest album of the
year. Everybody needs to listen to this album once a week.
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