Gotta respect a dude willing to live for his art. An American Forrest has a new record dropping, O’ Bronder Yonder Donder? And while I have no idea what the fuck that title means, this project is super cool.
Check out this bio:
“An American Forrest is the name of Forrest Van Tuyl's western music project. Van Tuyl was recently a featured performer at the 2019 National Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Elko, Nevada (alongside folks like Ian Tyson and Colter Wall, nbd).
When Forrest isn't touring in support of his music, he works as a cowboy in a pack outfit hauling explorers, researchers, and their equipment into the two-million-acre expanse of the Wallowa-Whitman Wilderness. He spends many months of the year on horseback, and training horses.
As a result, his lyrics are full of contemplative, complex verses that trot and canter as honky tonks, and western hymnals. His new album O'Bronder, Donder Yonder? was recorded at Mike Coykendall's Blue Room Studio in Portland, Oregon. We hope you'll give it a listen. I'm attaching links to his latest videos, filmed in and about the wilderness near his home in Enterprise, Oregon.”
TWO MILLION ACRES. Dawg, I need fried chicken sandwiches in life and Desus and Mero highlights, I can’t be riding in the rain up in God’s Country. But, my man Forrest is all about that life. Check out one of the three new videos they’ve dropped and go buy a copy of the record May 10th, so when this mountain man emerges from the wilderness, he can buy a pair of Vans.
Also, shout out to all of the cattle roaming through one of the videos.
It would be easy to characterize Tim Bluhm’s new solo album, Sorta Surviving, as a “departure” from the California Soul and jam-band-adjacent aesthetic of Bluhm’s work with Mother Hips, and I suppose that characterization would be accurate enough but, at this point in his career, Bluhm has woven together a wide enough variety of styles, and meandered down a wide enough variety of musical paths, that to try and pinpoint anything as a departure from Bluhm’s “signature sound” is reductive. Sorta Surviving differs from a Mother Hips record in that the band is different, the instrumentation is different, and the presentation is different, but it’s a record that anyone with an appreciation for what Bluhm has done -- and continues to do -- as a frontman and songwriter should be able to sink their teeth into.
Sorta Surviving was recorded at Cash Cabin, the legendary property where Johnny Cash recorded the American Recordings series that re-re-resurrected his career. Bluhm described Cash Cabin as, “more like a living room than a studio; full of Pendleton blankets, old rusty stoves, memorabilia,” while talking to me from his own home studio in Northern California.
“It was sort of coming full circle,” Bluhm said, describing the sessions, noting that Rick Rubin had signed Mother Hips to his label, American Recordings around the same time the first album in Cash’s American Recordings series was released. “I listened to that Cash American Recordings album so much, back then and getting ready to go into the studio for this record.”
For Bluhm, Cash Cabin was appealing beyond its history because it sits secluded in rural Tennessee, removed from the trappings and distractions that tend to worm their way into everyone’s lives, no matter what else is at hand. “I spend a lot of time in recording studios,” Bluhm said, “I watch what people do, see their behavior patterns, and the tendency in all of us is to get distracted by our phones, our responsibilities outside of the studio, all of that stuff. You start thinking about what time you have to go feed the parking meter, what you’re going to have for dinner when you get home, little day-to-day stuff like that and it can impact the vibe in the studio, it can impact the performances and the songs. It was important for me to get away from all of that.”
At Cash Cabin, Bluhm assembled an all-star band including Jesse Aycock (guitar, vocals), Jason Crosby (piano, violin, organ), and Nashville session legends Gene Chrisman (drums) and David Roe (bass), and handed the production reins to Widespread Panic’s Dave Schools. The result is an album that draws heavily on traditional country structures and arrangements and brings to the forefront another hallmark of some of Bluhm’s favorite Classic Country songs: humor.
Perhaps the album’s centerpiece, “Jimmy West and John Dunn the Bully” exemplifies Bluhm’s wry humor as it follows the schoolyard conflict between the two title characters, Jimmy West facing down the hulking Dunn in a battle to defend the honor (and prized belt buckle) of the song’s narrator. Those with political leanings could probably find easy allegory in the David and Goliath tale but Bluhm says the song, like everything on Sorta Surviving, is grounded in one
guiding principle: “forget genre, forget everything else, just tell a good story.”
It’s a simple enough formula, and it works. It’s the stories that will keep you coming back to Sorta Surviving, and to Tim Bluhm, in whatever incarnation he chooses to present himself and his songs next.
by Robert Dean I get a lot of new music sent to my inbox every week. Some of it is good, and some of it leaves me scratching my head, wondering if I’m out of touch, or everyone really does have a new face tattoo? But then when I get music with guitars, I do a happy clap ala Snoopy when Schroder starts banging away on the keys. Rock and roll in all of its mutations are very much alive, and Ona is a perfect example of a band doing something exciting and taking me out of my comfort zone and turning me onto new vibes I’d generally never tread toward.
Nothing drives me more insane is when some dickweed says, “there’s no good music anymore.” And to that guy, I say: go fuck yourself. There’s a ton of great music bursting from every fetid corner of the Internet and record store, you joyless bastard.
Stumbling onto Ona’s new video for their track "Summer Candy", I was perplexed, yet curious. Somehow, these boys have managed to take 1980’s camera trickery, an office space, a few leisure suits and create something oddly compelling. As the moments unfurled, I just couldn’t look away. The gravitational force of "Summer Candy" is too great, it’s like if Toto, George Harrison, and Tom Petty all got drunk and made a decidedly strange video with a catchy tune. Maybe more aptly, they’re a southern Echo and The Bunnymen, but whatever it is, Summer Candy is a damn fine throwback jam. A guy is in a sparkly cape and a keyboard guy who’s got an A+ mustache and lets the groove take him to the next dimension. The multi-phone clap is a nice touch, too.
I may not understand it, but I like it. Give Ona a listen and fall into the next dimension:
Here’s a video from and an interview with a band I think you’ll really dig. Meet Grand Canyon. You’ll hear a lot of familiar influences in this group (Petty, Laurel Canyon, Fleetwood Mac, maybe some Eagles…), but they do it damn well and bring their own energy to the music. It’s slick stuff, but there’s a lived-in beauty to it. The interview is below the video.
Interview
CASEY SHEA (VOCALS)
What's the story behind your album's title?
“Le Grand Cañon” came from a text conversation I had with Brendan Benson while he was in the final throes of mixing the album. He was asking if we had a name for it, and I threw out some ideas we had been tossing around. He didn’t really react to anything I said, but he said “I think it would be hilarious if you called the record something that’s almost self titled, but not. Like ‘The Grand Canyon’ by Grand Cañon. And spell your name like that. So people always have to write the n like that.” He then followed with “I’m not even high yet”. Ha! About 10 minutes went by and he sent me a mix of what he was working on, followed by a picture. It was a white dry erase board, and written in black marker was:
Grand Canyon
“Le Grand Cañon”
It just seemed so wrong and so right, so we went with it.
What's the best advice you have ever gotten from another musician?
When I was just starting out, I had the incredible luck of meeting and getting to hang with THE Donald “Duck” Dunn a number of times. If you don’t know him by the name…trust me, you’ve danced to his bass lines. I was in college and had a (terrible) band and we were playing him some of our demos. To play these recordings for a legend like Duck either meant that we had really big balls or were some sort of combination of delusional and deaf...it was definitely the latter. He couldn’t have been more kind or supportive.
As we were about to leave his home in South Florida, I asked him if he had any one piece of advice for a young musician or band. He looked me in the eye without skipping a beat and said, “Casey, if it don’t make you wanna dance or don’t make you wanna screw, it ain’t worth a damn.” I thought it was funny at the time, but it’s probably the single greatest truth about music ever.
What's the best advice to give to a musician just starting out?
In this day and age?? Quit.
Favorite (or first) concert you have ever attended?
The first really big concert I ever went to was The Rolling Stones at The Gator Bowl in Jacksonville, FL. This was 1989 on the Steel Wheels tour. I remember my parents joking with their friends about how old the Stones were, and how this could be the last time…LITERALLY!! Mick was a spry 46 years old! 30 years on, and they’re still going. The thing I remember most was Honky Tonk Women and watching this “old” dude sprint around the stage that had these 50 foot tall blow up dolls. Like some sort of rock and roll superhero he's hanging and pulling on the retaining wire to make the girls dance. Incredible.
Another interesting note about this show. Last year, I was doing a search about that tour, and it turns out they released a live album from that tour called Flashpoint. Out of the 14 live songs…3 of them came from November 25th, 1989. Jacksonville!
JOE GUESE (GUITAR)
Did you have a musical mentor? If so, who was it and how did they influence you?
My musical mentor is a producer named Mike Denneen. Mike, who recently passed away, produced three records for my old band The Click Five. Mike was the most important figure in my musical development. I learned more from Mike about songwriting, production, and guitar playing than I did in my years at Berklee. He had a way of getting the most out of a song and keeping things simple. I think the most important thing that he taught me was that putting in the work before the studio was the most important part. Getting the arrangement, tempo, key, and parts down leads to better recording in the studio. Mike, we all miss you buddy.
Where do you draw inspiration from when writing?
Inspiration for the album "Le Grand Cañon" came from the city that Casey and I call home, Los Angeles. Both of us had recently relocated from the east coast and formed the band shortly after moving to Los Angeles. The city was quite inspiring after spending so much time and one too many winters back east. The iconic fan palms, the Pacific Ocean, the canyons, the seedy nature of Hollywood, and L.A.'s rich musical history were all very moving.
What's your favorite food on the road?
I'm not sure I have a favorite food on the road. I will say that touring is really just an excuse to eat at great restaurants and sample cuisines from this country and around the world. Whether it's pizza in New York City, BBQ in Texas, ramen in Osaka, or the double cheeseburger at Bud's Cafe and Bar in Sedalia, Colorado, food is the real and arguably best reason to go on tour.
Which song of yours gets the best crowd response?
"Shangri-La La land" is the song that probably gets the best crowd response live. You never know what's going to happen on any given night. Some strange Cajun voodoo spirit seems to invade the body and soul of Casey and he turns into Andy Kaufman's Tony Clifton. He's been known to dance across bar tops, slink across the floor like a snake, maybe break a chair or two, steal margaritas from nice young women and, my personal favorite, be banned permanently from fine establishments. All I'll say is hold on to your drink and enjoy the performance art that's about to ensue. You have been warned.
###############
Grand Canyon - Le Grand Cañon
Los Angeles’ Grand Canyon are one of those rare musical phenoms. Fronted by singer/songwriter/guitarist Casey Shea and vocalist Amy Wilcox, the six-piece seamlessly draw from classic influences like The Byrds, Bruce Springsteen, Tom Petty, Warren Zevon, Fleetwood Mac, and catalyze progression as if ‘now’ and ‘then’ exist on parallel planes. The bridge between the two is quality. The songwriting of Shea and guitarist Joe Guese, offered en masse on Grand Canyon semi-self-titled debut (out now on Bodan Kuma Recordings), is timeless and resonant.
The members of Grand Canyon have sold millions of records, toured the world in their own bands and as sidemen, appeared on countless daytime and late night shows, and had songs that set the scene in numerous television shows and movies. They have graced the stage with everyone from indie folk hero Daniel Johnston to Thai pop sensation Palmy to Celine Dion, played in the SNL house band, and recorded with everyone from Rod Stewart to Linda Perry. They have worked in the studio with Mike Deneen, Brendan Benson, Jamie Candiloro, Dave Schiffman, Steve Albini and more.
In an era of computer-made, beat-driven music, Grand Canyon is the antithesis of modern pop music. However, by focusing on musicianship and timeless songwriting, and drawing on the inspiration of the classic sounds and arrangements of the 70s, it is the kind of pop music that will be wafting through the canyons for a long time.
Opener “Lucinda” starts as a bare-bones tune with muffled percussion behind Shea’s vocal. The rest of the band quickly jumps into gear and gives the listener an instant trip back in time to a place where Rickenbacker 12 strings ruled the radio and melody and great songwriting overruled fancy foot pedals and black box keyboards.
“Heaven” is the kind of tune that made those of us who were functioning members of society in the 70’s wantonly spend too much of our income on really good stereos and lots of vinyl. A dark electric piano riff melts into the guitar/bass/drum ingredients to create a beautiful example of song creation. Wilcox’s voice really shines on this one as she mournfully sings of a heaven somewhat lacking while the lead guitar tears up the ambiance behind her.
Heavier guitar riffs introduce “Made in LA” which is a descriptive travelogue of life and places in the epicenter of all things southern Californian. Both lead vocalists mold a strong chorus which gives us a minds-eye view of the grittier side of paradise.
“Hanger On” kicks back to the keyboard/guitar mix and allows Wilcox to echo the best of Sheryl Crow. Shea also contributes to give later verses a he-said, she-said vocal which adds a bit of drama to a skillfully constructed gem.
Shea has a bit of Tom Petty’s vocal intonation, but “I Don’t Wanna Wait” adds a melodic structure that doubles down on that iconic sound. The male/female vocal is used uniquely here to give a double plot to the lyric. What Shea is singing about and what Wilcox adds sound like the same story told from two very different points of view.
The group goes off in a completely different direction for “Shangri La-La Land”. This cut sounds like it was recorded by a mariachi band playing a dark and dank joint in El Paso. It sent me way back in time to the years when Gene Pitney was using his unique voice to sing of blasting Liberty Valance and coming a little bit closer. The unexpected addition of a horn solo further enhances the atmosphere. This one is pure fun and really shines a bright light on the instrumental capabilities present here.
Darice Bailey’s piano shines on “Theory of Everything” while the twin vocalists exchange verses dealing with characters living in less than great conditions. “I was there when it all began/ Had a beer while I drew up the plans / So you may not be here at all / You may never be here again.” forms the chorus to close out the record on a sorrowful note.
With Le Grand Cañon, Grand Canyon offer an admirable opus chock full of sweaty, romantic epics, complete with visions of late night rendezvous and unbearable yearnings fueled by emphatic chord patterns that drive ‘em like El Caminos down Ventura Boulevard.
“It seemed odd to lose my relationship with a manager and label because I made a rock ‘n’ roll record, but that’s what happened.” Andrew Leahey is stuck in Nashville traffic, talking to me about his new album, Airwaves, the making and release of which brought Leahey to yet another unexpected career crossroads. The good news this time around was, after undergoing a life-threatening brain operation and rebounding to play 180 shows in 2016 in support of his debut album, parting ways with a manager and label was, if not small potatoes, certainly a less dire set of circumstances.
“In Nashville it’s easy to lose perspective. Nashville is the center of the Americana world so when I took this album to my label and my manager, the immediate response was, ‘Well we don’t really know what to do with this,’ which is like, really? It’s not a hard-to-understand kind of music.” In fact, for anyone who grew up during the era when Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers or Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band dominated the charts, Airwaves is a very-easy-to-understand and equally-easy-to-embrace album, full of bright, chiming guitars, swagger, and anthemic choruses. According to Leahey, this was very much by design.
“We started playing ‘Make it Last’ at shows before we had even begun working on the record and it caught on immediately,” Leahey says. “For me - for us - we play a lot so it was important to make a record where any song could kick off a show, or could close a show. Songs that were maybe bigger in scope than the songs on my last record. And as we saw people at shows responding to those songs, it was an indication to me that we were on the right path. I wanted to make a Heartland Rock ‘n’ Roll Thriller,” Leahey’s thought is interrupted by his own laughter, “on a much, much smaller scale, obviously.”
Leahey and his band, The Homestead (and friends, including the 400 Unit’s Sadler Vaden), succeeded there, and Airwaves is indeed loaded front-to-back with songs that recall Petty, Springsteen and T. Rex. “Flyover Country” edges closer to what Americana purists - if there is such a thing - may have expected from Leahey while “Working Ain’t Working” recalls some of David Lowery’s twangier leanings but, by and large, Airwaves is kindred in spirit to the bands now relegated to Classic Rock Radio.
This is not to say Leahey and his band are unwelcome in Americana circles by any stretch of the imagination. Long a fixture at Nashville venues like the Basement and the 5 Spot, and with an ongoing gig in Elizabeth Cook’s band, Leahey continues to run in the same circles he always has, maybe just a little further out towards the fringes. “It’s all the same small pond,” he says, “I guess I’m just one of the weirder-looking fish right now.”
“When I came back from the operation, I really had to start over -- to repay all my dues, with my own songs, working on other people’s records, all of it. I struggled with it but ultimately, I had to rediscover what it all meant because I’d had it taken away from me so -- not that I didn’t appreciate it before the operation -- every opportunity is meaningful to me in a very different way now.”
Perhaps because of that, and likely also because Cook is one of the most dynamic and talented artists to come out of Nashville in the last several years, Leahey isn’t looking to relinquish his role in her band any time soon. “I love playing with Elizabeth, and my hope is I’m able to continue to balance both jobs because that’s a really important gig to me. I guess if there comes a time when I’m unable to carry both workloads, that would be a pretty good problem.”
Beyond Cook’s band, Leahey mentions that in Nashville especially, he’s happy to be known as more than just a singer, songwriter or bandleader. “It’s important to me that people remember I’m a player, too,” he says, “it’s really important to have those two halves come together and make a whole.”
With Airwaves, Leahey has achieved that symmetry. There’s no filler here. Just unabashed, infectious rock ‘n’ roll from an unapologetic Disciple of Petty. But make no mistake, this is not imitation. Following in the footsteps of others without tracing those footsteps is a delicate balance but Leahey and his band pull it off admirably.
Having survived the Nashville traffic snarl, Leahey has arrived home to meet the demands of his cat, and my own dog has grown restless so we agree that this is as good a time as any to cut things off, but before we go I tell him that to my ears, this album is as much a testament to Leahey’s own survival as it is to Petty or Springsteen or Stevie Nicks or anyone else.
“Yeah,” he says. “It took everything I went through to get to this point, to get to this record. Sometimes I wish I’d had some of these realizations when I was 22 but you really don’t know anything at that age beyond hormones and being pissed off at your hometown. I’m glad I’m here. I’m glad I’m here now.”
I tell Leahey he’s not alone. A lot of folks are glad he’s here now, too.
On the heels of a breakout
album and worldwide tour, Sarah Shook and The Disarmers show no sign of letting
up heading into 2019. Years, the band’s first record on the Bloodshot label,
grabbed critical acclaim and drew packed club shows.
There’s a reason for it. It
goes beyond the brassy, sassy – vulnerable and badass at the same time –
lyrics. It’s country, but way too rock and roll. Who can’t love “Good As Gold?”
It’s the best of early 1980s
rockabilly, by the only woman cool enough to date Robert Gordon. It’s smoky,
sexy rocking country. And Sarah Shook is keeping on.
In advance of hitting the
road with a new slate of shows, they’re dropping a 7”
single, “The Way She Looked At You”/ “Devil May Care.”
Sarah Shook and the Disarmers
will be back on tour for a bit after Christmas,
then in earnest after the first of the year.
----------
Sarah Shook & the Disarmers
Release a New 7”,
Announce Early 2019 Tour Dates
*Apple Music Features the Digital Exclusive of Two New Songs
Honest to a fault and as foul-mouthed as a drunken sailor, she's a nonconforming spitfire
who's proud of not fitting in with mainstream country music. – Rolling Stone
With Sarah Shook in the mix, hard core country is alive and well, and dangerous as all get
out. – No Depression
After a banner year – including the release of their widely acclaimed second album Years
and subsequent sold-out shows from coast to coast and overseas –
Sarah Shook & the Disarmers are ending 2018 with a bang by announcing today’s
release of a 7” and a run of tour dates for early 2019.
The 7” includes two new songs, “The Way She Looked At You” b/w “Devil May Care,” that
were recorded at Manifold Recording in Pittsboro, NC during the same session that produced
Years. Apple Music is currently featuring the digital release in exclusivity (LINK)
until December 4th, when it will be released on all other digital platforms. Physical copies are
available now at Bloodshotrecords.com (LINK).
The band also announced newly confirmed U.S. tour dates in January, February, and March,
and a couple solo dates for Sarah in Mexico. Those can be found here or below in full.
Sarah Shook solo performances:
1/12 and 1/13/2019 – Trópico de Cancer – Calle Benito Juárez, Todos Santos, Mexico
Sarah Shook & the Disarmers:
1/16 – WDVX's Tennessee Shines at Jig and Reel – Knoxville, TN (tickets)
1/17 – Southgate House Revival – Newport, KY (tickets)
1/18 – Lincoln Hall / Tomorrow Never Knows Festival – Chicago, IL (tickets)
1/19 – Uptown Grill – Lasalle, IL (tickets)
1/20 – Rose Music Hall – Columbia, MO (tickets)
1/21 – Mercury Lounge – Tulsa, OK
1/22 – AAC Live – Fort Smith, AR
1/23 – Fort Worth Live – Fort Worth, TX
1/24 – Rustic Tap – Austin, TX (tickets)
1/25 – The Lonesome Rose – San Antonio, TX (tickets)
Almost two years ago, Kasey Anderson opened
up in depth here about his spiraling descent from artist-on-the-cusp to
grifting, locked-up addict. He was then not quite a year post-prison. And while
there was still a hint of an artist’s confidence about him, it was tempered by
the gun-shyness you’d expect of a guy fresh from the halfway house and with a
long list of pissed-off victims, many of them former friends.
Little did he know that within a couple of months he’d begin
the long, cathartic and ad hoc
process of recording a comeback album. In fact, he really had no clue what
would come of the sessions, done virtually pro
bono by a collection of generous friends and musical colleagues from the
Portland indie scene.
Anderson’s voice on the telephone is stronger today. He
sounds healthier, no doubt buoyed by the album-making process that was critical
to his ongoing restoration as a man. The humility is still there, no doubt, but
the knowledge that he’s made a really solid rock ‘n’ roll record has put a
spring in his step. From A White Hotel,
released today on emerging label Julian
Records, is poignant, introspective and sprinkled with
Anderson’s trademark irony, starting with the title, a reference to his drab
lodgings for more than two years. Oh, and his name isn’t on it.
We caught up with Anderson with just a few days to go before
his nuptials, and talked redemption, recovery, the virtues of not being
preachy, and the inevitable Steve Earle comparisons. And the whole, stupid
“outlaw country” thing.
I’m curious about the
way your band is billed. I was partial to the name “Kasey Anderson and The
Honkies.” “Hawks and Doves” is the
name of an underrated Neil Young album & song; why the switch? Were you
worried about the local Portland anarchist community torching your pad to
protest your white privilege? Sorry, I know it’s low-hanging fruit…
Ha! No. First, I decided to do it under a band name because
of the way the record came together. I had written all the lyrics and had the
structure of the songs, but the instrumentation came together in such a
collaborative way that it felt disingenuous just to put my name on it. And The
Honkies, I didn’t want to go back to that because all those guys were such
strong personalities in their own right, and I just kinda wanted to leave it
there with those guys because I have such fond memories of that band.
And I love that Neil Young record. The phrase “hawks and doves”
is a political and military term. It seemed pretty appropriate for what’s going
on now. Plus, it just sounds cool.
The first time I
heard that song was on Scott Miller & The Commonwealth’s live album…
Yeah, yeah! From The V Roys!
And since it’s not
“Kasey and the Hawks and Doves,” just the band name, any concern that nobody
will know it’s you?
I don’t think it’s a horrible thing for me to make a clean
break with the work that I did and the life that I led as a solo artist. It
wasn’t a calculated move to do that; maybe it’s an added benefit? And I think
that the way it’s being marketed through the press, it’s pretty clear that it’s
a band I’m involved in.
This is a collection
of a dozen pretty dang good songs. How long have they been percolating? Did
some of these words get put to paper while you were locked up?
Yeah, about half of them were written while I was locked up,
during my second year in prison. “Every Once in a While,” for instance, is
about my first cellmate. That’s his story much more than mine. The other five
or six songs happened around after the election, in late 2016. It took us a
long time to make the record because of the way we went about it.
Tell me about this
band, and how you got the record made; I imagine raising funds to get an album
done might have been challenging for someone in your position.
The band is
Jordan Richter (guitars,) Ben Landsverk (bass, keys, viola, background vocals)
and Jesse Moffat (drums, percussion). Other folks who played are Eric “Roscoe” Ambel, Kurt Bloch, Ralph Carney, Kay Hanley and Dave
Jorgensen.
Jordan engineered it and owns a
recording studio in town. And I think right after you and talked last time,
some folks reached out and asked if I’d like to contribute a track for a
benefit record they were involved in. I told Jordan, “Hey, I’d really like to
do this, but I don’t have money to pay for studio time or to pay session
players.” And he said, “Are you sure
you want to do a benefit record?” (Laughs)
…I wasn’t gonna say anything. It was a real thing, though, right?
(Laughs) Yeah, it was a real thing. It
was to help this woman named Jennifer Holmes – who has since passed away – with
her cancer treatments. So once I proved to him that it was a real thing, he
said he’d get some people together. We covered this song called “Wise Blood” by
the band Tender Mercies. At the
end of the session Jordan said, “Man, if you ever want to just come in the
studio and roll tape, everybody gets your situation and knows that you don’t
have a bunch of money to throw into making a record. There are people willing
to play your songs for fun and just see where it goes.”
And that’s what we did. Jordan would
text a group of us that said, “I have this day where the studio’s not in use,
and you don’t have to pay me for the time.” So it took us more than a year,
because we’d do a day here and there, and everybody would go back to their
lives. So that’s how the record got made, and it was really generous of him to
do that.
And then I sent [the album] to several
of my friends and said, “I really don’t know what to do with this; I can’t put
it out.” I have a friend named Nathan Earle here in Portland who’s in a band
called The Get Ahead, and he told me about this new label, Julian Records.
“They seem to be looking for bands,” he said. “Why don’t you send it to them?”
I had planned to just try and put it out digitally, but the Julian Records
folks were into it, and took it from there.
That’s certainly fortuitous.
It’s very fortuitous, and the only way
it was going to come out physically. I mean it’s not really cost-prohibitive to
get an album out digitally. But this was very generous. Everybody seemed to
think the songs were cool, and were like, “Don’t worry about it right now,
let’s just see what happens.”
When last we spoke,
we touched on your being medicated for bipolar disorder, and how that can
sometimes stifle creativity in artists of all stripes. There’s a line in
“Lithium Blues” that says, “You took the words right out of my mouth.” Is there
a balance you find yourself having to strike between mental health and
creativity?
Yeah, for sure. “Lithium Blues” might have been the first
thing I wrote in prison that I was really happy with. I had to go back and
figure out, okay, there’s an element of
magic to creativity, but there’s a much bigger element of math to it. And I know how to make a
song so that the pieces fit together. If I can trust myself enough to do that,
the rest will come along in time. That’s kind of what that song is about.We talked about this a little bit
before, but I had almost resigned myself that [playing music professionally]
was behind me, that maybe I could do some shows for fun from time to time. But
over the course of making this record it became clear to me that I still know
how to make a song work. Whether this is a thing I get to do on a larger scale
remains to be seen, but I was able to prove to myself that I can still put a
good song together, even when I’m not
up for five straight days.
An article in Glide mentioned that you’re training to be an
addiction counselor.Is there some
sense of duty there? Have you become more zealous about “the program” and
living clean? Maybe a little of both?
It’s a little of both. I have certainly become more zealous
about making sure that people who deal with mental health and/or addiction
issues – especially younger people – have someone they can talk to without
feeling judged or dictated to.
The name of your
band, as you mentioned, has political overtones, and there are some references
to current events on the album. But you didn’t lose your mind and start bashing
people over the head with your opinions, like so many artists have done since 2016.
Why do so many folks make everything about politics?
When I wrote these songs, one of the things I tried really
hard to do was invite people into a conversation rather than dictate to them
how they should feel about any given thing.
Thank you.
I really feel that’s a far
more effective way to engage an audience, if you want to have that
conversation. I have never responded to anybody – even when I agree
wholeheartedly with what they have to say – addressing whatever they imagine
their audience to be, by dictating what their thoughts or beliefs should be.
That just doesn’t work for me, and when I wrote these songs I tried really hard
to stay away from that. I wanted to ground it in narrative and open-ended
conversation.
Yeah. It’s there, but it’s not preachy, and it’s
open to interpretation. And believe you me it’s refreshing. Because I didn’t
vote for the sumbitch, but I’ve had about a bellyful of being preached to by
guys whose music I otherwise love.
Switching gears,
redemption is certainly a theme running through From a White Hotel. How cathartic was this whole process, and where
are you on the whole making-amends thing that started when you got out of the
joint?
Well, in terms of the process being restorative, the making
of the record – playing music with other people, being able to work on songs –
was really, really healthy.And it
was good to do it in a way that I didn’t have to feel like my life depended on
whether people liked these songs. Obviously I wouldn’t have put the record out
if I didn’t want people to hear the songs, but it’s not going to ruin my life
if there’s a deafening thud when it’s released. I’m still gonna be married to
this wonderful woman, I’m still gonna be helping people who struggle with
mental health and addiction issues. At the end of the day, the act of making a
record was rewarding in and of itself.
The amends thing? Well…the second you say you’re humble,
you’re not.
Ha! I guess that’s
true.
(Laughs) Yeah. I’ll just say I’m really proud of the work
that I’ve done. I think I’m living out amends to people to whom I can’t make
direct amends. I’ve worked really hard at doing a good job of that.
By the time this
article runs you’ll have been married for about a week. Was Caitlin a part of
your life before you went away? How big a part of your road back to normalcy
has she been?
She was a part of my life. She wasn’t my girlfriend at that
time, but she was part of a close group of friends. My girlfriend at the time
was named Tracey, and she called Caitlin that night and said, “You’re not gonna
believe this, but he’s gone. He’s going to prison, so can you come get his
stuff out of my apartment?” So Caitlin went and got all of my stuff and took it
to Goodwill in East Los Angeles. A lot of us had drastic changes in our lives
around that time but we all stayed in touch for the most part. And Cait and I
stayed in touch while I was locked up, and she’s been so supportive. She was
never judgmental. It’s been one of the most positive things in my life – if not
the most positive – to have that
person with me every step of the way.
On the title cut you
say, “I ain’t no kind of outlaw, and I never claimed to be.” The wit and irony
are strong in you, Kasey Anderson.
(Laughs) Well, you know, that’s true. I never tried to
market any of the records we ever made as any sort of “outlaw country” thing…
Oh, wait! Gosh, see,
there’s so much irony I missed the irony.
I was thinking in the literal sense, in that you’ve done time and technically are an outlaw.
(Laughs) I technically am an outlaw, and that’s kind of the
point I wanted to make. It’s not all those artists’ fault that they’re being
marketed and trumpeted that way. But a lot of times I’ll read an article about
some “outlaw country” artist and think, “Man, I’ve actually been an outlaw and it sucks!”
You know, smoking weed doesn’t make someone an outlaw. My
mom’s 65 and she’ll smoke weed and watch Netflix. That doesn’t make someone a
badass. Figure out what you mean by “outlaw.”
Speaking of outlaws:
Everybody’s favorite badass, Steve Earle, gets a nod on “Clothes Off My Back,”
right down to the title of his 1996 post-prison album.I can understand why you could maybe
not resist a tip of the ol’ driver’s cap; it’s just too perfect. But aren’t you
afraid he might get a big head over it?
Um…no, I’m not. Because I think Steve knows how good he is.
He’s far enough along in his career that he knows he’s revered by people who
write songs.
Very diplomatic, by
the way.
(Laughs) But the point of that song…Steve’s been sober for a
long time now, and he’s done a really good job of living his life according to
that. And so it’s an acknowledgement that I’m not anywhere near where this guy
is as a songwriter, and certainly not in my recovery. But I’m certainly a lot
better than I was five years ago.
Yeah. I was really
hoping you’d rise to the bait there.
(Laughs) I can’t.
I know.
Also, just to clarify one comment: my
issue with “Outlaw Country” isn’t with any of the artists, it’s with the folks
who use it as an easy/“cool” way to market and categorize artists. I don’t know
too many artists who are actively seeking that label. I know Sturgill and Aaron
Lee Tasjan for sure have poked fun at it in the past. That kind of marketing
and categorization, to me, draw attention away from how great artists like Sturgill
and Margo Price and Elizabeth Cook and those folks are individually, and makes
it into this one homogenous category. It’s counterproductive. Their work is
great, so let it stand on its own.
Newlywed Kasey Anderson is on tour. Check dates here.
-----------
From a White Hotel is available everywhere today, including Kasey's site.
