http://www.serialboxpresents.com SerialBox Wed, 02 Nov 2011 06:40:17 +0000 http://www.serialboxpresents.com en http://serialboxpresents.com/Ben-Rector http://serialboxpresents.com/following/serialboxpresents.com/Ben-Rector Wed, 02 Nov 2011 06:40:17 +0000 SerialBox 2240085 <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240085/BR_header_v3_905.jpg" width="770" height="362" width_o="770" height_o="362" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240085/BR_header_v3_o.jpg" data-mid="13787635" border="0" align="left"/> Honestly, I'm not sure where I first heard of Ben Rector. Maybe it was from a music video that a friend linked to on youtube. Or maybe it was through the images my friend Eric Anderson shot for his album cover. Or maybe it was from a TV show placement. I honestly, for the life of me, cannot remember where my first interaction with his music originated. But that's interesting thing about Ben's music. It sneaks in little by little until it feels like surely you've been listening for years and years, even if it's only been months. His music finds a way in and makes a home. You can't pinpoint it, but his songs have a way of creating effortless, unpretentious familiarity. It's an absolutely refreshing discovery. -Ryan Ben recently stopped by the studio to track a handful of songs off of his latest LP, Something Like This, as well as a previously unreleased song. Ryan Booth then sat down with Ben to chat about the joy of writing for other people, pushing yourself, and building momentum… <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240085/booth2_905.jpg" width="770" height="538" width_o="770" height_o="538" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240085/booth2_o.jpg" data-mid="13787632" border="0" align="left"/> RB: How did you decide that music was something that you wanted to try and pursue as a career? There's obviously a big difference between playing music for fun and playing music for a living. BR: I, like a lot of musicians I'm sure, started writing songs in high school. I was pretty enamored by the process, but it didn't really click with me that doing it for a career was a possibility until I was in college and began to meet other musicians who were making careers out of it. It's a little more tangible than just assuming you have to be John Mayer or Coldplay to make a living at this. I understand how that kind of thing happens, but it's just so far removed from anything that you could ever see or touch. So for me, it was seeing Matt Wertz, Dave Barnes, and Andy Davis being able to only play music on a professional level, but also actually make a living doing it. Seeing them making a living playing music started me thinking that I might really be able to do this. Those guys helped me learn the steps that I needed to take to really do this as a career. RB: Did that transition come naturally for you or was the hobby-to-job move a hard jump to make? BR: It seems that everything I was doing music related when I was younger was baby steps getting me closer to doing it on a professional level. I made an EP over Christmas break of my freshman year in college and began playing some shows. It seemed like people were enjoying it, too, and that really was enough encouragement for me to continue putting myself out there with the writing and performing. I worked hard and released two records while I was in college. Each one was better, more professional than the last. Surprisingly, with each one, things grew a little bit more. Things began looking more and more like a job and less and less like a hobby. Not that I was enjoying it any less, it was a gradual realization that this music thing could be a career, in a very tangible way. RB: So at what point did you decide to move to Nashville? BR: Initially my plan after college was to stay in Fayetteville, but an older friend of mine encouraged me to think about Nashville. My wife and I decided that it was probably a wise move both personally and professionally. I thought there was a lot of room to grow in Nashville. I thought it would be best to be around people who were incredibly talented and who were writing and performing at a very high level. I knew that it would be a real challenge and right after college seemed like a good time for a challenge. RB: How integral has that move to Nashville been to the growth of your career? Is there even any way to know that? BR: I think it was very important, though I don't think it has been or will be a make or break it thing. I will say though, that just being in a community of talented people that you respect raises the bar of what you're doing. It's hard to say what it would have looked like if I'd stayed in Fayetteville, but I know that I've been challenged and encouraged by the community of artists here in Nashville. Most of the people that I've toured with and written with are friends of mine and I think it would have been pretty hard to develop those relationships without being here. I don't think that if I hadn't moved to Nashville that I wouldn't be playing music. It just wouldn't have looked the same. RB: I had a mentor when I was starting out down this path of trying to make a living in a "creative profession" who told me that if I ever look around realize that you're the most talented guy in the room, then you've got a big problem. You'll never get any better. In my few years of living in Nashville, I can definitely see that as a musician, you wouldn't have to try that hard to not be the best person in the room just because there is so much talent there. Especially among the older guys who have the talent and the experience, which you can only acquire over time. BR: Definitely. And the beautiful thing is that there are a lot of people who are talented in a variety of different ways. There's talented performers, talented players, talented songwriters. It's just a great place to be. You can be continually pushed if you're surrounding yourself with the right people. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240085/cody6_905.jpg" width="770" height="513" width_o="770" height_o="513" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240085/cody6_o.jpg" data-mid="13788289" border="0" align="left"/> RB: Do you see yourself as a singer-songwriter? If so, do you identify with one or the other more? Is the performance the thing you're the most passionate about or is it the songwriting? BR: I would say that neither one completely fills my creative tank on it's own. RB: Like you can't have one without the other? BR: Somewhat. I guess eventually I would love to transition into being more of a songwriter. I feel incredibly lucky to get to do a job that I love, but the lifestyle of being an artist can be really demanding. I'm gone a lot of the time and for me, being home is a lot to give up. I know that I don't want to do it forever. I just don't know if I'm cut out for that particular lifestyle. There are guys that want to be playing shows for as long as they possibly can and they're incredible at it. That's the highest fulfillment of their goals or dreams. For me, I'd love to continue being an artist for as long as I can be, but I'd also love to slowly transition into songwriting as time goes on. For right now though, the momentum in my career is more so on the artist side than the songwriting side. It just takes time. When I'm home, I try to really invest in songwriting because that is something that I really want to pursue. I really enjoy the thought of someone else singing something that I wrote. I can get more excited about that in the long run than I can than about more artist-specific goals. I get really excited about the day that someone calls and says we really want to have you help write the songs on our record. RB: What specifically about it makes you so excited? BR: It's something that you can never really master, never really perfect. Beyond that, if you're not the one who has to go out and sing it night after night, then you can really explore a lot of different sides of your songwriting voice. When I'm home, I usually do a decent amount of co-writing and the purpose is not always to create something for me specifically. It's a great way to practice the craft and not have to worry about your solo work so much. There's freedom to write a different kind of song than you might for your own record. It's an ongoing process and I love it. RB: I wonder if there is some stuff that you don't write about as an artist, because eventually you're going to have to get up and sing this song in front of people. If you're singing using a bunch of personal pronouns, then the implication is that you're singing about yourself regardless of whether or not that is true. Seems like that wouldn't be the case when writing for someone else. BR: There's definitely the freedom of having the song not be directly related to you. But also, when I write with other artists for their records, you get to play to other people's strengths. When you're writing for yourself, it's easy to develop creative channels that are your "thing" but someone else I'm writing for may do certain things that I couldn't ever do as an artist. It's a stretch. Beyond that, it's kind of fun to be a bit more behind the scenes. When you write for yourself it's often just about what inspires you or what's on your mind or what's frustrating you. It's fun to break out of that completely and remove yourself from the equation. RB: It's exercising the craft and discipline of songwriting to be able to say something that will fit inside of their particular style or sound. BR: Exactly. After a while, there are certain things that people feel are your "thing." That could be lyrically or structurally so it's really nice to play outside of those expectations working on other things. Maybe it's like owning a restaurant that cooks burgers. Good burgers, but burgers no less. Every once in a while it's fun to experiment with say, fish tacos, and not have your core audience wondering why you suddenly went a different direction. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240085/cody7_905.jpg" width="770" height="496" width_o="770" height_o="496" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240085/cody7_o.jpg" data-mid="13788466" border="0" align="left"/> RB: Do you feel like getting up and performing for people is a comfortable place for you to be? BR: I definitely don't feel uncomfortable and I do feel like I can be myself. But the reality is that it's as hard to continue to grow and develop as a performer as it is a song-writer. You naturally find things that work for you, ways of performing that get a certain type of reaction. It can be very scary to try to grow and do things beyond what you know will work. I want to push beyond what's comfortable, to give the most layered performance possible. RB: Who are some of your influences? BR: My baseline musical influences tend to be older artists: James Taylor, Billy Joel, Randy Newman… I grew up listening to oldies on the radio and feel like that helped shape my taste. I obviously listen to a lot of current artists as well, though I try not to listen to many artists that occupy a similar space as I do. I find that whatever I'm listening to often finds its way into the songs I'm writing. I don't want my music to sound just like John Mayer or whoever are the most dominant artists of my particular style. But yeah, my bread and butter influences, the ones that really shaped the way I think about writing songs, are older singer-songwriters. RB: A lot of those older guys really experimented with their "sound" a decent amount. Record to record didn't necessarily have to be the same thing. I do think that, for whatever reason, the byproduct of our time is that you have to do one thing, and not just one thing, but one tiny thing; and not just one tiny thing once, but over and over again. You can't just make burgers, you have to make a bacon avocado burger only. BR: Yeah, and that's what people come to you for… RB: And that's what they want, so if they want a fish taco, they'll go somewhere else… not to absolutely murder that metaphor. (laughter) Would you say that's an idea you're trying to push against? BR: (laughter) Well, I would say that what is the absolute most important thing to me is to be continually growing, continually refining my craft. I think the byproduct of pushing yourself is that sometimes you may explore other things, other sounds, but I do think that you're always going to have that common thread. I don't think that as an artist, I could write a song that removes me entirely from the picture. I think the key is that you have to try and follow what's naturally happening in your writing. Any time I get too caught up in trying to write something different, it ends up getting a bit diluted. It starts feeling like a copy of something that already exists in a better form. I just try to stay open to growth and change and see where it takes me. The nice thing about being an independent artist is that I don't have anyone around me saying, "hey man, we really need this song version 2.0" I have the freedom to do what I want to do and I try to take advantage of that. RB: What do you hope that someone who interacts with your music whether that be live, or in their car, or even on TV? What do you hope people take away from bumping up into your music? BR: I hope that it is appealing to the them. I really value music that invites you in. I hope that see that isn't one dimensional and that it has lyrical depth and musical depth. I want my music to be approachable but also thoughtful and well-crafted. If people say that about my music, then I'll know that I'm on the right path. RB: So what's next for you? I think you're heading out on tour with NEEDTOBREATHE, is that correct? BR: Yeah, and it's going to be the most extensive continuous tour that I'll have ever been on. The last year or so, most of the tours I've been on were maybe five or six weeks. This one is over three months. I'm very excited about it and excited to get to play in front of a whole new crowd of people. A lot of the tours that I've done in the past year have either been headline tours or tours with another artist that I'm really close to. NEEDTOBREATHE will be the first tour in a while in which I'll be in a supporting role. There will be some crossover between our fan bases I'm sure, but there will be a ton of people who haven't heard my music before. I'm really thankful for that opportunity. RB: I wonder what it will be like to play for crowds that didn't come exclusively to see you. It'll be interesting to not have to be supporting your own headline. It seems like it might be really freeing. BR: Yeah, when you're headlining tour or run of shows, there's the pressure of knowing that if people don't show up or if people don't like the show, it's all on your shoulders. It's nice to to know that on this run, my only job is to show up and play the best songs that we know how to play. Beyond that, it's great to be supporting NEEDTOBREATHE because they have a really great fan base and put on such a great show themselves. I'm really excited to be a part of it. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240085/cody1_905.jpg" width="770" height="513" width_o="770" height_o="513" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240085/cody1_o.jpg" data-mid="13787640" border="0" align="left"/> RB: It seems like this last record has generated a pretty tangible amount of movement. Can you feel that momentum? Does it feel tangible to you that things are pushing forward, perhaps a little quicker than they did on the last record? Or do you not really notice because your just keeping your head down plugging away? BR: No, I definitely sense that momentum. The last couple of tours that I've done, there has been that tangible growth…a lot more people coming to shows and a lot more venues and an overall energy from the ones who do come. It's something that you can really feel in the room. The interesting thing about recognizing that momentum is that you only really feel that when you're on tour. You go from writing and recording songs in Nashville and kind of hanging out to all of a sudden getting a big dose of this energy all at once. It's the only time you really see the culmination of that excitement. I definitely have felt that on this record cycle and I feel really, really thankful to get to be a part of something growing like this. I am very grateful that people are enjoying the music. RB: That's probably not a bad thing that being in the middle of all that energy only happens for short periods of time… Speaking for myself, specifically, it's really cool to hear when people like the things that you've made, but it's actually not that beneficial in terms of making something good again. Positive feedback isn't always a good thing in the creation process. BR: When you're on tour, it's an alternate reality in a lot of ways. It's a really strange thing because everything you interact with for the six weeks that you're gone are at a constant stream of excitement. It's just not real life. I don't think it would be healthy in the long run. I'm sure it would encourage you to assume everything is going great and that you can rest on your laurels a bit. You can definitely still sense whether things are growing while home. You can see how many people are buying your records or where they're charting, but I think it's great to not dwell on those things. And for me, by no means are we talking about a huge success or anything. Any number of people in this business could make my meager accomplishments look like they're nothing. I'm not famous, I'm not selling out stadiums, no one is calling me up to go to the Grammys or anything. But I am able to make a living as a musician and I have no illusions that that is anything but a blessing. RB: But I do think that as blue collar musicians or blue collar artists just making a living off the things that we make, a bit of momentum is a really great thing. It helps you know you're heading in the right direction…that this thing might actually be possible. It's a big deal in and of itself and it doesn't matter if it's a big deal to anyone else. It's a great milestone to say, "ok we're on to something, now it's time to get working even harder." BR: It's funny, Into the Morning sold more copies than I or my manager thought it was going to. So when it came time for a new record, I felt a pretty strong pressure to perform because there were people I knew who were anticipating it. I probably worked too hard trying to put it together in an airtight way. But when I saw that people really enjoyed it and that more people were getting excited about my music, it became easier for me to feel a little bit of peace about this path. It was the first time that I stopped feeling afraid that it was all just going to fall apart tomorrow. I tend to be a little pessimistic when it comes to business. When anything good happens, instead of just celebrating it, I tend to believe that it was so obviously the last good thing that would happen again. My manager would say, "oh wow, the record is selling really well" and instead of being happy, I'd just think that the whole thing would surely come crashing down the next day. On this record, I think the reaction has really surpassed my expectations again and I really am not afraid of it falling apart any more. (laughter) RB: That's totally normal though, especially when you're building something with your own two hands. Why wouldn't we think it wouldn't just come crashing down. We say to ourselves, "surely I didn't build this that well, right?" BR: laughter Exactly…and if I did build it well, it was just some fluke and I'll never be able to pull it off again… laughter Oh well. whatever it takes to keep making better music… <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240085/booth1_905.jpg" width="770" height="488" width_o="770" height_o="488" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240085/booth1_o.jpg" data-mid="13787627" border="0" align="left"/> /////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// CREDITS: Music by: Ben Rector Music performed by: Ben Rector Chad Copelin Jake Goss Scott Mulvahill ///////////////////// Produced and Directed by: Ryan Booth VISUALS: Cameras: Cody Bess Micah Bickham Ryan Booth Neil Sandoz Trae Stanley Edited by: Micah Bickham Graded by: Cody Bess Titles by: Tyler Swanner Photos by: Cody Bess Polaroids by: Ryan Booth AUDIO: Engineered by: Jay Snider Assisted by: Andy Watson Mixed by: Jay Snider Mastered by: Daniel Karr Illustration and Design by: Tyler Swanner //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// *AUDIO ONLY VERSIONS SerialBox Presents: Ben Rector by SerialBox Presents http://serialboxpresents.com/Andrew-Belle http://serialboxpresents.com/following/serialboxpresents.com/Andrew-Belle Wed, 02 Nov 2011 05:56:09 +0000 SerialBox 2240022 <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240022/AndrewBelle_Header_905.jpg" width="770" height="362" width_o="770" height_o="362" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240022/AndrewBelle_Header_o.jpg" data-mid="11398607" border="0" align="left"/> The first time I heard Andrew Belle play, it was an unbelievably cold day during the tail end of SXSW in Austin, Texas. The Ten out of Tenn crew was playing some bizaare little outdoor theater off the main drag and honestly, it was miserable. It was pretty early and the previous day's balmy spring weather had been replaced with howling, biting winds and sub-forty degree temperatures. Not exactly a stand-outside-listening-to-music environment. Everyone was huddled together in little pods to protect against the wind. To be honest, I kind of got the impression that the only people that were there had to be. I remember each ToT member would desperately try and warm up their hands a bit before having to jump up on stage and play. Then out of the corner of my eye, I see a blond haired guy bound up on stage, guitar in gloveless hand. He just started playing to no one in particular. Funny thing happened. By the end of the first song, there was a crowd beginning to form at the front of the stage. By the end of the second song, it seemed that people were forgetting that moments before they had been cold and miserable. By the end of the set, there was a ring around the stage, full of people impervious to the elements, singing every single word through clattering teeth. It was spectacular to see. Andrew recently stopped by the studio and played a few songs off his very successful LP, The Ladder, as well as a couple songs that have been prominently featured on television and commercials. Ryan Booth caught up with Andrew to chat a bit about songwriting and about how Coldplay bizarrely seems to serve as the starter gun for his own new records. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240022/cody1_905.jpg" width="770" height="452" width_o="770" height_o="452" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240022/cody1_o.jpg" data-mid="11400768" border="0" align="left"/> RB: What is it about songwriting that made you want to try and do this for a living? AB: I went into college not really knowing what I wanted do. I wasn't really interested in any one certain thing and honestly, I probably wasn't even ready for college. Maybe I just went cause everyone else was going. So I studied business because it was the most applicable to any future plans, though I figured I'd try to find something along the way that interested me. I'd always been interested in music, even having played in a few high school bands, though I just played bass. I definitely hadn't really written any songs. I think it was early on in college that I really became interested in the way that some of the musicians that really inspired me could build lyrics and melody together. One night, I thought, "maybe I should give this a shot." So I started writing my first songs using what I was listening to as a kind of template. I was definitely trying to do what they were doing in terms of structure, but I was trying to put my own spin on it. I felt proud of those first songs only because I was able to be somewhat clever with my lyrics. That's what I've always really enjoyed about music, the combination of interesting, clever, and thoughtful lyrics combined with catchy melodies and hooks. I just started practicing and studying, learning probably just as much about songwriting as business, just teaching myself as I went along. When college ended, I decided that I wanted to give songwriting a chance before I felt like I was too old to do it. So I decided to try and make an album with a friend who had some recording equipment. I wrote ten or twelve songs and we made a recording, finishing it up the summer after graduation. The response was pretty strong, or at least strong enough to keep going and to actually try this professionally. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240022/cody3_905.jpg" width="770" height="341" width_o="770" height_o="341" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240022/cody3_o.jpg" data-mid="11398611" border="0" align="left"/> RB: So what did you take away from that process, from your very first experience recording music? AB: I learned how difficult it is to actually record anything. When you don't have any recording experience, you go into it thinking, "well, I'll just put the microphones here and it'll sound great." But very quickly you are sobered by the reality of how difficult recording can be. I mean anyone can just put a mic down, but making something actually sound good is obviously very difficult. And on top of that you have not only the engineering, but the production as well. It's the making it actually interesting, and bringing the songs to life with a variety of instruments that is incredibly hard. You're quickly faced with your own limitations. I'd never sang before, really, and it was very sobering to be faced with those vocal limitations. I had to teach myself the difference between singing into a microphone while recording versus singing into a microphone in a live scenario. The biggest thing to learn though is that it really is a process. Meaning that so often, what you set out to make at the beginning ends up being completely different than what you end up with. Hopefully somewhere along the line that becomes ok. What you end up with, hopefully, is better than what you could have hoped for at the start. RB: Do you feel like coming to grips with the reality of a project as it stands after you've made it versus what you expected it to be before you went into it is the real work? Is that distance enjoyable ground to cover or are you dragged along kicking and screaming? AB: I think that with my first project, I was a little disappointed with how quickly we reached our limitations. Both of us were trying things for the first time. He was a first time engineer and producer, and I was a first time singer and songwriter. At the beginning I was a much stronger writer than vocalist and that first recording experience definitely showed me that. But that's the beauty of creative work. You get to try it again. My next project was the All Those Pretty Lights EP and that was with a producer who had worked on many projects and was very experienced. Even though at the time, my vocal performance issues were still pretty sobering, I had improved significantly. That album kind of kicked off an era of going into projects with low expectations and coming away with something way better than I thought possible. It was the same thing when I made The Ladder. I knew that we had a good shot at making something cool, but I didn't expect it to be as fun of a process. I didn't expect it to turn out as cohesive as it did and I certainly didn't expect it to be so well received. It's been interesting to see the process evolve from that first dorm room recording all the way till now. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240022/cody4_905.jpg" width="770" height="355" width_o="770" height_o="355" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240022/cody4_o.jpg" data-mid="11398614" border="0" align="left"/> RB: What kind of influence does other people's reaction have on your perception of the music that you make? For instance, let's say you made The Ladder and everyone hated it. Do you think that you'd feel differently about the project as a whole? AB: Well, I listen to The Ladder and I definitely feel like it was a solid effort. Of course, being a perfectionist, there are tons of things about it that I'd love to have a chance to improve on. Even if I could just improve on my own performance. I think that if people just absolutely hated it, I'd probably listen back and try and evaluate why. I'd probably just think they didn't like it because I didn't sing a certain part well enough and that I just needed to be a better singer. (laughter). I'm pretty confident in what I'm trying to say in my songwriting so I don't think I'd trace it back to that. I'm sure that I'd find a way to trace it back to my own insecurities as a performer. Fortunately though, a lot of people really did like it and that makes me more confident going into my next record. It gives me the freedom to be a little more explorative, a little more creative. Maybe even a little more risky. I'm definitely influenced by opinion, but fortunately, moving forward and coming off of a lot of positive feedback, I'm encouraged to try some new things on this next record and to make something even better. Whether people love or hate what I make, I'm always going to be influenced to make something better and more creative than the last time. RB: Does the idea of having to go through another process of making a record from scratch an exciting thought? Or do you kind of see the amount of work that's coming and get that sinking feeling of "oh man, I have to make something again." AB: If this was a year ago, I'd probably feel the weight of it. The anticipation of it was pretty daunting. But now it's a year later and I'm starting to feel the excitement, starting to feel the inspiration again. It seems that every two or three years has been the mark for me. I began the process of making The Ladder almost exactly three years ago. I've had two to three years between each of my projects, from the dorm room thing to now. That seems to be my magic number to get me back in the mood to create something from scratch again. Also, it seems that recently, a lot of new music that's been coming out that has been really inspiring me to start the process again. RB: What is a record that you've heard lately that made you stop and think about creating something new again? AB: You know what's funny is that the new Coldplay record has actually pushed me over the edge in terms of getting excited about making my own new record. Which is funny cause Viva La Vida was kind of what got me excited about making The Ladder. That came out and it sort of gave me this energy to start that process then. Now they released this Mylo Xyloto record and I kind of have that same feeling all over again. I'm so inspired by that band and the ways they continue to push the envelope. But really, Bon Iver, Feist, The National, Radiohead…these are the guys that all make me wish I could write better songs. (laughter) <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240022/cody2_905.jpg" width="770" height="578" width_o="770" height_o="578" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2240022/cody2_o.jpg" data-mid="11398610" border="0" align="left"/> RB: As the music industry shifts and the significance of traditional outlets like radio appears to diminish, TV placements are becoming an extremely integral components for artists to reach wider audiences. In My Veins was prominently featured on the season six finale of Grey's Anatomy. What is that like for you to have your music, in a very modern way, immortalized in these pieces of pop culture? AB: I remember that when I first started playing, I met this musician who was a lot older than me and he told me about how one of his songs had been used on a show called Smallville. I just remembered being completely fascinated by the idea that your music could be used like that. That it could be, in a small way, immortalized. I was fascinated by that concept and I knew that I wanted to figure out that world as much as I could. My first placement was on 90210. Now when you get your first placement, you invite all your friends and your entire family over to watch the show. It's just really affirming to realize that the music that you're writing is being expressive and fits into this niche of pop culture. It's an incredible thing to be a part of. I'm forever grateful and flattered every time my songs are used in that way. But, beyond it being extremely flattering, it's a great way to earn a living in music right now. RB: Would you say that you have an overarching goal? A "when I get to this point, I know I'll have accomplished what I set out to do" kind of thing? Are you one of those kind of guys? Or are you taking a more meandering path? AB: At the beginning, my goal was mostly that I get to a point that I'm making music that I like and feel good about. From there, of course, I hoped that other people would like it, listen to it, and buy it to the extent that I'd be able to sustain a career from it. That was my only goal. I don't really need more than that. I just need enough to actually get by on and not have to wait tables or something. But then I achieved that a couple of years ago and all of a sudden I started asking myself "what's next?" I'm twenty-seven now and certainly you're worldview begins to change in your late twenties. You start to come to grips with reality and what your life is actually about. You start to take stock, to put things in perspective a bit, and prioritize your life around what's really important. For that reason, I'm starting to take myself a lot less seriously as far as my career is concerned. I've come to realize that my career is only a very small function of who I am. I want to containue making music that I'm proud of. From there, I'll just see where that goes and will be prepared to go along for the ride. And that's only a realization I've come to grips with in the last year or so. My job is to make music the best that I can and we'll have to see where God takes me. RB: As a songwriter, do you feel that there is so much of yourself in your songs that you need to have gone through something personally to be able to write about it? Or is it an imagination of sorts? AB: Sometimes I use my imagination to fill in the details of reality a little bit. A song like Static Waves, for example, is a very true story, but there are a few details and some of the imagery that's embellished for the sake of the song. I'd say that for the most part, nearly everything I've ever written has been directly or indirectly related to a real experience I've gone through. I think even looking at what I'm starting for this new record, it's much the same way. Maybe in the future I'll need to get a little more creative with using my imagination because ultimately I won't have so many dark, depressing relationship songs. I'm engaged to be married now, so I shouldn't have any more of those kinds of songs to write (laughter). RB: Do you feel like it's an evolution to be able to separate yourself personally from what you're writing about? An evolution to be able to create a world or an emotion or a feeling that's not drawn literally from what you've experienced…to be able to build something that people feel is real, but that you didn't necessarily have to inhabit. AB: Moving forward, I definitely think that is a skill I'm looking to develop. Though, I'm not sure how to do that just yet. Then again, who knows what will happen in my life. There is so much that happens that you absolutely cannot plan. Who knows what lies ahead. RB: What is the hardest thing about physically playing your music in front of people? AB: The hardest thing about playing in front of people is that quite simply, I have never really been a performer. You enjoy writing songs, and you get good at it, so then you record those songs and make an album. Then all of a sudden you have to be a performer too. Those two things are kind of separate, in my opinion, and yet everyone lumps those together. Being a performer is something that I have had to learn how to do. I had to learn to sing in public, but more than that I've had to learn how to conquer those nerves. RB: And the best thing? AB: What I do is such a non-traditional profession that sometimes you can wonder if it's what you're supposed to be doing. We all only have a certain amount of time on this earth, is this really what I should be doing with my life? Should I be doing something more constructive? But then you play that great show and someone comes up to you after the show with a story. The best thing, hands down, are those moments when you feel affirmed about what you do. This one time a guy walked up to me and told me about how when he was in Iraq in the military, he was pinned by sniper fire in a fox hole for forty-eight hours, he listened to The Ladder because it made him think of home and in some small way, helped him to get through it. Something like that really slaps you in the face. You might not be able to see much beyond the recording process and how you make these songs. But what you don't see, what you can't see, is how it can touch and affect people for the positive. Stories like that make me happy and really appreciate what I get to do. It actually makes me pretty frustrated with myself for ever doubting whether or not this is what I should be doing. It's the moments with people who have heard your music and have been influenced and affected in a way that I can remember being influenced by the bands that I love. It's an honor to be able to serve that purpose. With the way that music is distributed now, I can only imagine the people, who I'll never know, who had a chance to interact with, even be changed by the music. The ripple effect that we'll never know the extent of is a very encouraging thing you only discover on the road. ///////////////////// CREDITS: Music by: Andrew Belle Music performed by: Andrew Belle Jonathan Guerra Todd Bragg ///////////////////// Directed by: Ryan Booth VISUALS: Cameras: Cody Bess Micah Bickham Ryan Booth Joey Mathews Aaron Tharpe Edited by: Micah Bickham Graded by: Cody Bess Titles by: Tyler Swanner Photos by: Cody Bess AUDIO: Engineered by: Jay Snider Mixed by: Jay Snider Mastered by: Daniel Karr Audio Assistance by: JJ Cole Illustration and Design by: Tyler Swanner ///////////////////// AUDIO ONLY VERSIONS** SerialBox Presents: Andrew Belle by SerialBox Presents **works on iOs devices http://serialboxpresents.com/Matthew-Mayfield http://serialboxpresents.com/following/serialboxpresents.com/Matthew-Mayfield Wed, 02 Nov 2011 05:37:03 +0000 SerialBox 2239978 <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM_header_final_905.png" width="770" height="362" width_o="770" height_o="362" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM_header_final_o.png" data-mid="12586024" border="0" align="left"/> "There must be something in the water in Birmingham. It seems like every time I turn around, I'm stumbling upon another writer, photographer, or musician who makes that town their home. And planted squarely In the midst of this creative community is Matthew Mayfield. He's an artist I've been keeping my eye on for a few years now…his track "Open Road" was a staple of my playlists long before I knew much about him. His music is like that... the longer you sit with it, the more you want to know about the guy who wrote it. Matthew seems to occupy this unique space as a musician and performer. He seems equally comfortable as the frontman of a rock band as he is walking on stage with just an acoustic guitar. It's a curious dichotomy and one that causes to him stand out in a sea of weepy singer-songwriters and half baked rock bands. There is just something altogether genuine about Matthew. We think you'll agree." -RB Matthew recently stopped by the studio for a session, recording a couple unreleased tracks, as well as a few songs off his latest release, Now You're Free. Ryan Booth then sat down with Matthew to discuss writing from memory, chasing down ideas, and the importance of finding a home… <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM1_905.jpg" width="770" height="578" width_o="770" height_o="578" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM1_o.jpg" data-mid="12586154" border="0" align="left"/> R: How did you end up deciding to try music professionally? It's one thing to play in a band in high school, but to try and make a career, to make a living out of it is an entirely different ball game.  How did you arrive at the decision that you wanted to try this professionally? M: For as long as I can remember, I've always wanted to be in a rock'n roll band. I put together my first band when I was 12 and we played everything. When I was in college, I put together a band and we played frat parties to birthday parties, mostly playing covers. But I was going to school at the time and it just wasn't working. I'd get home from a show at 6am and have class at 8. So, it was a bit of a leap of faith, but I decided to go my own way. I started touring full time, making records, and honestly, I lucked out. We got signed signed to Epic records when I was 21. However, I ended up getting dropped a couple years later. I had to pick up the pieces and start out on my own. It has been a lot of ups and downs, but I love what I do now. R: So, let's talk about that. In the early 2000s, the dream was still to get signed…it was still the definition of "making it." The bottom hadn't quite dropped out of the industry yet and this "we need to get signed to a major and they're going to dump a million bucks into us" thing hadn't completely run its course. What was that like to come in on the tail end of that?  I know that getting dropped is not an uncommon event, but can be such a defining personal event. Especially for someone so young. What was that process like for you, picking up the pieces, as you said. Tell me about that transition from a major to being independent. M: I was young and naive and yeah, getting signed was the ultimate dream come true. In 2004/2005 it still was that standard record deal where they do pump tons of money into the project. We recorded in big studios all across the country and I think we made a good record. But at the end of the day, there are so many political considerations and so many people were getting fired. All of our cheerleaders at the label were suddenly gone and you find yourself left on your own.  It can feel like you're a slave to this big machine. When we got dropped I had a decision to make; keep going or try something else. For me, the decision was easy. Music is something that I would never consider giving up on. I just had to figure out how to make a record with my own money…which I didn't have very much of. R: A little different when you're footing the bill, right? M: I put out The Fire EP in 2008. I made it in my basement for under $1000, just me and my guitar. Then one day, Gray's Anatomy called and wanted to feature one of the tunes on their 100th episode. R: Wow. M: Yeah, that definitely was a big push in terms of sales and awareness of what I was doing. It was a really cool moment. It made it feel like all of this might actually pay off, in a sense. Since then, I've been paying my dues, just grinding away touring with the band and playing everywhere we can. R: So you're on your own and Grey's Anatomy calls…are those the kind of moments that make you say, "This is hard, sure, but it's totally worth it. We have to keep going."  Do you need those kinds of moments to keep going? M: Things like that are pick me ups, for sure. They're a little bit of affirmation that you're doing something right. This crazy circus act of a music scene, in the broader spectrum, can be really disappointing. You hear a lot of "no" and "I don't like this". So these moments are like a breath of fresh air. They can be in the form of a placement on Grey's Anatomy, they could be a sold out show. Last night we opened for NEEDTOBREATHE to a sold out Georgia Theater, and the crowd was amazing. 1200 people singing along with some of our songs and just really into it. It was a great night.  I think you have to take those little moments to make up for all the disappointment, all of the grinding, all of the late nights, all of the long days, and the long drives. This industry will chew you up and spit you out if you're not careful. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM2_905.jpg" width="770" height="634" width_o="770" height_o="634" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM2_o.jpg" data-mid="12586152" border="0" align="left"/> R: What's your professional education been like going from "I'm going to play music and it's going to be awesome" to the reality of the situation? M: It's been extremely eye opening. When you're a kid, you dream of being a rock star, but then you begin realize that it's a bottom to top process. You have to grind away to make it up to the top. And the name of that game is time. After ten years of doing this, I'm still plugging away. I think at first you're a little green and you think i'll be a lot easier than it is. If you'd told me ten years ago that I'd still be struggling to pay my bills, I don't think that I would have believed you. But I've honestly never second-guessed my choice to do this for a living because it's everything that I love. Making music is just something that I have to do. R: So it's ten years later and it's not what you thought going in, but that hasn't changed the decision. M: Yeah man. It's my passion and that passion hasn't shifted since I was a kid. I started loving rock'n roll at a really early age, maybe nine or ten. I worshiped rock bands. I always wanted to be Slash (laughter) R: laughter M: I think seeing Slash in the November Rain video, where he gets up on the piano, as a nine year old kid, I knew I wanted to do that. It's funny for such a silly moment to be so inspirational, but when you're a kid it's a fantasy and I still believe in that element of magic. I see it. On certain nights, nights like last night is when I see it. R: It's funny that up until the point that you leave school, everyone is doing the same thing at the same time. Everyone graduates at the same time and that starts the gun where everyone's path starts really diverging. They start going through life events at different times and you don't have that lock step that you've had up until that point. What is it like, as an artist, having friends who are all in different stages of their career. Like, you're friends with the NEEDTOBREATHE guys, right? M: Yeah man, some of my best friends. R: I mean they've had a crazy year. Do you feel like it just doesn't matter what level you're currently at, there's still that grind you have to keep pushing through. Those guys are opening for Taylor Swift, playing to huge crowds in huge arenas. What are your conversations like with friends who are in different places, cause everybody's in a different place now. Do you still feel that common feeling to keep pushing? M: I do. The NEEDTOBREATHE guys are some of the hardest working musicians that I know. They've been doing this a few years longer than I have and they just recently started filling up venues. Same thing with the Civil Wars, who are also good friends of mine. John Paul's been at it forever, grinding it out. Playing these huge shows and having all these people singing all the words to every song, I think that is what we all hope for. It's kind of mind blowing because they did what I'm doing for so long, paying their dues playing to tiny crowds. But now, for those guys, they're thinking about how they'll have to notch it up next tour, bring out more production. All they talk about is pushing forward. For me, when I'm playing a sold out theater with some friends of mine, I'm looking at them thinking thinking that they're crazy. They've arrived! There are thousands of people out there singing all of their songs. But I know that if I got there one day, I'd be eyeing the arena down the street, planning what I'd need to do to get there. That's part of what keeps you going, keeps you inspired, keeps you motivated. The best musicians won't be content with where they are. They're always going to try and take it to a level where no one will ever forget the work you do, the point where you actually make a mark on peoples lives. That's pretty powerful. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM3_905.jpg" width="770" height="578" width_o="770" height_o="578" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM3_o.jpg" data-mid="12586150" border="0" align="left"/> R: You strike me as a "band" guy. Even though you are putting out records under your name, I don't necessarily see you as the Nashville, singer-songwriter type of guy who just grabs a few guys and scales up and scales down as need be. I don't know, talk about that. I know you were in a band before, do you still see yourself in a band even though you are putting music out under your name? M: Absolutely, man I still see it as a band, even though it's under my name. I feel way more comfortable as the front man for a rock band than I do as a singer-songwriter with an acoustic guitar. I never was that growing up. I was first and foremost a guitar player. That was always my first love. I love Jimmy Page. I love Slash. Guitar players were my heroes. But then slowly, songwriters started becoming guys that I looked up to. And then performers like Bruce Springsteen. That guy strikes me as a band guy putting out music under his name. For me, there's a more interesting experience to be had as a front man for a band as opposed to the guy with the acoustic guitar. And I say that as someone who does both. Sometimes it's cheaper for me to be on tour, just me and my guitar, so I'll do it. On those tours, I usually play smaller venues. It's such a great exercise because at the end of the day, you have to be able to play the big version of your song and the tiny version of song. It has to translate. Great songs can be performed with one or two people, even if on the record there's a lot more going on. I think there's going to be tours where it's going to be more me and my guitar and there's going to be tours where it's going to be a rock and roll band. R: That's a great answer because it definitely more like a business decision for you. With some guys, it feels like it's pulling teeth for them to play with a band. Like they are begrudgingly playing with other musicians because they don't necessary like giving up control of the song that they wrote, because the song is really written to be small. It was really written to be the tiny version and so to scale it up at all feels somehow painful to them. I don't see that with you. It seems like your songs are good songs, so they can scale down. They can play along that entire length of that - acoustic guitar to full production. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM_quote_905.png" width="770" height="362" width_o="770" height_o="362" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM_quote_o.png" data-mid="12586144" border="0" align="left"/> R: I kind of get the sense that your heroes, the guys that you looked up to when you were young, are definitely in, for lack of a better phrase, 'screw you' rock and roll bands. How does that reconcile with the lyrics? It seems like there's a tough exterior on top of these pretty intimate lyrics about very personal situations. Does that feel like a juxtaposition or does it just make sense to you? M: Thats a great question. No, It's definitely a strange merging of those two worlds, but I feel like that juxtaposition is what makes me, me. When you've been through a lot, you've lived a decent amount of life, there's so much room to explore. The heavier things in life, that we've all been through, these are the things that tend to spill out. They may be super high energy and angry or they may be tender and full of pain. Or they may be full of grief or angst or desire. Rarely do you find a great song that doesn't have an urgency to it. I've heard it said that to be a great songwriter, you don't have to be miserable, you just have to have a great memory. You may write a song one day a full year after an experience is over…long after you're done grieving the situation. And then one night at three am this song may suddenly pour out, even though you thought it was over. On stage there is a lot more of a rock tendency. I think that's just from recycling my influences and hopefully spitting them back out in a way that is original. I love hearing about where artists came from, who they were inspired by, and then listening to their music. Do I hear their influences? Maybe not, but it's interesting how all of those different ingredients went into a particular singer and then got filtered, spun around, and spit out on the other side. R: Do you feel like its dangerous to have something very specific to say? Do you think that it is a good idea to start from a place where you're saying, "Ok, today I'm going to write a song about X?" M: If you have a really specific situation or feeling that you need to process, and a burning or urge to sing about it, then yes. For me, there are songs where I sit down, I have a lyric that I love, and I know where I want to go. I'll just write from that head space. But other times I might only have a general feeling with just one or two lines. But there also might be a situation going on in my life…something I'm wishing for, hopeful for, or disappointed by. And I just play around with the specific and the general until the song begins to write itself. Most songs come to me in increments. I may sit down one night and get two lines in two hours. I may get a whole chorus in an hour and then I won't get the rest of the song for another two weeks or another month or in some cases another year. You just have to follow through. If it's something that you believe in, then you can't leave it alone. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM4_905.jpg" width="770" height="608" width_o="770" height_o="608" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM4_o.jpg" data-mid="12586149" border="0" align="left"/> R: For you, as a writer, what is your process like? Are you the guy that's like "Ok, I'm gonna sit down and write a song today" or could you go eight months not writing anything, and then all of the sudden write an entire record in three days? What's your writing process? M: I'm the kind of guy who never sits down intentionally. I've just never been able to do it. For me, it usually starts with melody. Whether it's something I'm just singing in my car or something that hits me sitting on the porch. Usually the melody just comes, and maybe I have a lyric or maybe a few notes so I'll record it on my on phone. Then I'll go home and take that tiny little spark and chase it to see if it turns into something. More times than not, it doesn't. I'm the type of writer who only chases the ones I really believe in. I don't want to waste my energy and a great lyric on a shitty melody. And vice versa. I police myself when it comes to that, you know. Some nights, like last night, I got in at five am from a long night of driving and a melody hit me and I stayed up for another couple of hours even though I was exhausted, but you know that was the time to chase the idea. I probably got a chorus and a great verse and a great direction. Just from a random 7am, blood-shot-eyed session in my head. It can come anytime. You just gotta be willing to take it when it does. R: Do you feel like you've gotten better at learning when to chase and when not to? When to let it go? M: I was going through this miserable situation where I had essentially waited three years for this girl who was telling me that she was going to be there at the end of the day. She said that at the end of this long road I was going to have her but then after all that time, she said that she just couldn't do it. I went to Muscle Shoals and I sat down with my good friend, John Paul of the Civil Wars. We talked through the situation for hours over coffee. He kept saying, "man let's go write it, let's just go write it." It was literally written in an hour. We had the whole thing in an hour because the idea was that strong and the feeling was that intense. It just spilled out. Some things are so urgent you just can't help it. It just pours itself out all over the page. Those are the ideas to chase. When I was younger, writing was so new. Any idea could be the topic of a song. I guess, now, I have a better filter. I think I can sit back and listen to it and hear if it isn't working or if it isn't something special. If the song doesn't knock me down, why would it knock anyone else down? So, that's my process so when I do a record or when even when I just put a song out a free single or B-side type thing. I still want it to be something I'm proud of. I still want it to be something that I feel like will stand up next to my other tunes. R: I really do think the business part of it for musicians has changed a ton and can be really tough for artists. But I'm not sure there has ever been a better time to be a music fan. Artists don't have to put out ten songs just to put out ten songs. If they have five songs they're putting out five songs. If they have eight songs, they're putting out eight songs. I feel like the overall quality is fantastic. I remember being a ten or twelve year old and hearing a song that I loved on the radio and then I'd go spend my fifteen bucks on the CD only to find that there is nothing else on the record I would ever want to listen to. And I just remember, even as a twelve year old, being pissed off, feeling like they just stole my money. I think the a la carte nature of how people can interact with music now has definitely made it a necessity to only put out strong work. You can't make filler. M: Whether it's an EP or a full length, you have to make a great record. It can't have any throw aways on it. It can't have any skippers. It's gotta be something fans want to listen to front to back. It has to be great. The labels say that it's all about the single but that's because it's all about singles for Top Forty acts. It's all about singles for people that are trying to be on the radio but for me, I want to have a career. I want make fans who are fans for the long haul. I want people to sing Track 9 off my third record, and know every word. That's what it's all about…when you go to a show and everyone is singing every word to every song. If you have a hit single, that's great, and certainly there are always going to be those songs that people connect with more than others. If you can write twelve songs and play them all at a show and see every one of them connect with different groups of people then that's when you've made it. R: Does it make you uncomfortable, if you're writing from such a personal place, to give up control of that song. Once it's recorded and it's out there, it's not really yours in a certain way. You're giving it to other people and not just other people, but complete and total strangers. Does that leave you feeling a bit vulnerable or exposed? What is that like for you to see something so personal go out to all these people? M: I mean it certainly makes you feel vulnerable because it is so deeply personal. But that vulnerability allows people who are going through something similar to really connect with it. Honestly the beauty of being able to share your music with people is also that the meaning grows and changes over time. Like my song Element meant something specific when I wrote it. But I'm not in that place anymore. I've grown up and I've changed. In many ways, it's like a new song now. The song is still relevant to me even though it may be in a different area of my life. It may have shifted to another place in my heart. You can let it change. I'm sure that the bands that are still playing songs that they wrote twenty, thirty years ago are in the same boat. They can't necessary be twenty again when they're forty. But the song that keeps you feeling young or the way that people have taken it over the years changes meaning. And that eases the vulnerability I think. I remember seeing Storytellers with Pearl Jam and Eddie Vedder is talking about that song 'Alive.' He said, "When I wrote that, it was a really sad, brutal story about a boy who's been lied to about his father his whole life. But then twenty years later It's a huge anthem about the beauty of being alive on this earth." I'm sure for him, that it is a really magical, powerful thing that he wrote it from a tough place and then twenty years later he's a grown man and he's singing an anthem of life for younger generations. I think that is just one instance of something that is so cool and powerful about songs. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM5_905.jpg" width="770" height="380" width_o="770" height_o="380" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2239978/MM5_o.jpg" data-mid="12586147" border="0" align="left"/> R: Talk about Birmingham - such a cool city. I feel like there is this current in Birmingham of musicians and photographers and artists. Is that city important to you? Talk about the community there and why you've decided to make that home. M: Absolutely. Birmingham…it's my roots. I was born and raised here and it definitely is something special to me. I've always been a homebody and I enjoy this place. Familiar streets. I enjoy knowing where to go to get a drink. I enjoy familiar faces and voices and smells and sounds. And yeah, there's definitely a very rich scene here. There's so many artists here that are super talented and they're not just musicians. Writers, painters, photographers. There's such a rich culture, such a rich history. You just have to dig for it a little bit more than you do in a city than like say Austin, New York, or LA. Birmingham for me will always be home. I sing about it a lot. I sing about the idea of being home a lot. I think that it comes out in the music and I think it also comes out in my personality. I'm the guy that if we are out for a month, pushing to get home that same night. I'm grateful to have a place that I want to come home to. There are definitely things here that haunt me and that I do sing about, but, as a whole it's a beautiful and rich place. R: So whats next for you? What do you got coming up next? M: Man, I'm wrapping up this tour and I'm going to take some time to write and collect myself the last part of the year. I don't know, I may make another record. I've got a lot of tunes and I really have that bug again. I want to make another record. I just don't know how to pay for it… (laughter) R: That's always the trick... (laughter) M: I'm not sure, but the idea is there. I'm leaning towards getting back in the studio cause these songs, honestly the twenty or so that I've got that are in idea form or completely finished are really different. They're something else…so different from 'Now You're Free' that I almost feel a duty to get it recorded. It does feel like something that kind of gnaws at you. You get the itch and then it kind of takes over. /////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// CREDITS: Music by: Matthew Mayfield Music performed by: Matthew Mayfield Clint Wells Wil Drake Bryan Rust ///////////////////// Directed by: Micah Bickham Produced by: Ryan Booth VISUALS: Cameras: Micah Bickham Daniel Karr Zach McNair Ben Wyman Edited by: Micah Bickham Graded by: Cody Bess Titles by: Tyler Swanner Photos by: Micah Bickham AUDIO: Engineered by: Jay Snider Mixed by: Jay Snider Mastered by: Daniel Karr Illustration and Design by: Tyler Swanner //////////////////////////////////////////// *AUDIO ONLY VERSIONS SerialBox Presents: Matthew Mayfield by SerialBox Presents http://serialboxpresents.com/Andy-Davis http://serialboxpresents.com/following/serialboxpresents.com/Andy-Davis Wed, 02 Nov 2011 05:20:43 +0000 SerialBox 2233502 <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2233502/AndyDavis_header_v5_905.jpg" width="770" height="362" width_o="770" height_o="362" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2233502/AndyDavis_header_v5_o.jpg" data-mid="11603822" border="0" align="left"/> Andy Davis is, in a word, unassuming. When we first discussed the possibility of a session, Andy casually mentioned that he had a new record coming out and that he was heading out on a quick tour with some great "studio musicians" to beta test the new music in front of people. "Sure, let's do a session." He sent along rough mixes on the new music, saying that he'd love to track some of these new songs. Even in the raw form he sent, you can tell this record is going to be something special. Leading up to the session, he had casually mentioned that he'd bring along a some friends to play with him. Well, day of the session, he comes rolling in with a couple of guys and my engineer tapped me on my shoulder, "do you know who these guys are???" Turns out that in addition to Andy, an incredible player in his own right, David LaBruyere and Matt Sherrod rolled in to play bass and drums, respectively. With three heavy hitters in the room, we knew that without a doubt, we were about to capture something special. The three of them smoked through four new songs off of Andy's yet-to-be-released LP, Heartbreak Yellow. Ryan Booth then sat down with Andy to discuss his new record, playing with a proper band, and a desire for more full bodied pop music. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2233502/cody1_905.jpg" width="770" height="513" width_o="770" height_o="513" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2233502/cody1_o.jpg" data-mid="11602273" border="0" align="left"/> RB: Talk about how you ended up on this path of playing music professionally… AD: I grew up playing music. Typical thing: had a band in high school and wrote songs for that, though I didn't take it too seriously. I didn't really know what I was doing. When I got to Belmont University in Nashville, there were a lot of people who were aspiring musicians who wanted to be famous as quickly as possible. For some reason, I just didn't want to be one of those people. So I laid low and worked on songwriting in secret for a while. RB: What was that like for you being in college with so many people who were there because they wanted to try music out as a career? Did you enjoy that experience of did that leave a bad taste in your mouth? AD: I actually enjoyed it. I mean there were a lot of people who were hungry to be famous or "discovered" or whatever. Some people had this mindset t that if they could get discovered, get a major record deal, or get catapulted to the top by doing a quick audition then they'd be up for giving it a go. But if it didn't work out quickly, then they probably wouldn't work in music. There's a big difference between a person like that and a person who's willing to persevere. I've been doing this now for seven or eight years and it's not like I've had this massive breakthrough into the public eye or anything. But I'm content to just keep chugging away because I enjoy making music enough to do this with my life as opposed to just taking a quick risk and go be a banker or something if it didn't immediately work out. RB: You mean music wasn't your get-rich-quick scheme? (laughter) AD: Yeah, it's not playing the lottery or anything like that. For me, this is the craft that I really want to pour my time and my life into becoming an expert at. It's more about being good than it is about being known. I would rather know that I'm actually accomplished at something than to just get some notoriety. I measure my success more by how well I make records as opposed to how famous I get. RB: What was the first time that you really experienced people responding to your music? I mean, when people buy your cd, they're obviously responding well. What was it like during your first few shows? AD: While at Belmont, I became friends with these artists, Matt Wertz and Dave Barnes, and a couple others guys. Pretty soon, those guys started asking me to come open for them on the road. I realized that I needed to have something to sell after shows, so I took these rough recordings of a few songs that I'd been putting together. I burned 60 copies on my laptop and hand wrote all the titles on the back to create this handmade packaging. I ended up selling all 60 of them at the first show I played opening for Dave. I said "wow, alright, I'm going to keep doing this." I guess that was my professional debut (laughter) You know, growing up singing in church, people were very encouraging, but its not always enough proof that you should be doing music as your profession. I mean, your mom's always going to love your music and tell you you're awesome, but that doesn't really mean that you should devote your lifetime to making music. There's a big difference between people being encouraging because they like you as a person, grew up with you, and want you to succeed, than when strangers hear you play and then buy your music. It's validating. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2233502/cody2_905.jpg" width="770" height="578" width_o="770" height_o="578" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2233502/cody2_o.jpg" data-mid="11602276" border="0" align="left"/> RB: Would you say that the goal would be that you're able to make something really good and be known for it at the same time? Or does the notoriety part just literally not factor into the equation for you? AD: It would definitely be amazing to make tons of money playing music. And I would love to sit at an imaginary table with Paul McCartney and Randy Newman and Paul Simon and hear them say "Hey kid, you're good. You know what you're doing." But I still think its still mostly about being respected and making music that would stand up next to my heros, to be very ambitious. If your lofty goal is to be a contemporary of the Billy Joels and Elton Johns, then obviously you have to embrace making music for the masses. I think that the natural inclination of my style of song writing is to write songs that are pretty accessible but perhaps a bit more sophisticated than your typical pop song. I think there's a way to make pop music that is healthier than what is being fed to the masses right now. RB: What moves a pop song from some sugary thing to something that can be appreciated by someone with a more sophisticated palate? AD: I think mostly it is the content or subject matter of the song. Or maybe it's just the way that the subject matter is dealt with. A Miley Cyrus or Taylor Swift may be expected to write a love song from a really innocent place to play up the super romantic notion of love and "finding the one" and all that stuff. I think a lot of pop songs naturally come from that mind set about romantic love. But I think that as you grow up a bit and actually go through a break up in a significant relationship, it's hard to write those same kinds of songs. Besides, there is something much more fascinating about bashing your way through your twenties and watching the drama unfold as people make their way into early adulthood. I really do want people to identify with the human experience. I mean, it's not like my story is so important that everybody needs to hear it, but I feel like, as a songwriter, talking about my story in an honest way will hopefully resonate with people on a deeper level if they're just willing to explore the layers. It's the small stuff that resonates. RB: Well they say that one of the big paradoxes of storytelling is that to tell a story that reaches a majority of people, you have to tell it very specifically about one very specific thing that happens to one very specific person. Basically you can't tell a broad story to reach a broad audience. To reach that broad audience, you have to be incredibly specific. AD: Yeah, I agree with that, I don't think people want to hear big themes in the form of life lessons. They would rather see the details of what gets you to those life lessons. I don't think that's my role as a song writer anyways. I don't have a desire to write a bunch of big themes and big life lessons and I'm not trying to teach people through my music. I think of my songs as snapshots of different moments, difference decisions, nuances of life, and feelings that happen under a microscope. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2233502/cody4_905.jpg" width="770" height="459" width_o="770" height_o="459" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2233502/cody4_o.jpg" data-mid="11602284" border="0" align="left"/> RB: Let's talk about the new record. As a guy who likes to write and record, how do you know when it's time to start a new project? AD: There is this thing about being an independent touring musician that I learned from the paths of guys before me. They were making records and then touring a year or two on that same record because there is just so much ground to cover. Head to this little spot and then it's five hours over here to that spot, then five hours to this spot...you can basically spend a lifetime pushing one record trying to get everyone to hear it. For me, writing and recording is the essence of what I love about music, so I've decided to be a person who writes and records a lot more than touring. I don't want to only spend three weeks every two years recording. I'd rather really take the time to make the record that I really want to make…not the one that just gets me back on the road. Sometimes it's tough, but you have to just listen to your gut. You've been on the road for a while and you're feeling a little bit disconnected from the music you're playing and you've gone through some season of life and you've been thinking about it a lot. Then you have this tugging, this build up of desire in you, and suddenly you get to this place where you just write six songs really quickly in a row. It just all comes out in a clear moment. Those are really powerful times and when that right moment comes, you have to create a little bit of space for yourself and catch the songs as they go by. It's less about forcing yourself to be creative as an exercise and it's more about capturing what's been waiting to come out for awhile. RB: You had a very successful Kickstarter campaign, forty-one thousand dollars raised, is that correct? AD: Yeah, it was pretty amazing. RB: Is it validating to have your fan base rally and essentially say that they really want you to make this record. Or does that just create additional pressure to perform that wouldn't be there otherwise? AD: I like the pressure. I like having deadlines and expectations to meet and exceed. At first, I felt a little bit of that pressure more acutely, but then people emailed in and contributed more and more money to the point that I realized people just wanted to see me be creative and be free to go for it. The kickstarter campaign made me feel that my fanbase was saying, "you've got our approval, now just go make something fun." Of course, you have to undersand why people are supporting you and what about you they are fans of. You want to make sure that what you make makes them feel like they were a part of it. RB: What do you mean by that? AD: Well for instance, when people buy stock in Apple products, it's because they know what they stand for as a company and even if they don't know what exactly they are going to come up with next, they trust that they are going to come up with something good. RB: Cause they've already bought into the brand… AD: I think my "brand," if you will, is about making music that is creative and challenges the status quo of what pop music is right now. RB: Now, you put out music as Andy Davis, not necessarily as a band, so for this record, were you looking to capture these songs in a different way than just a guy and a piano or guy and a guitar type of thing? Were you trying to record less of a singer-songwriter album? AD: Well, honestly, I think I've always written with a band in mind. It's always just been dependent on whether I've actually had the budget to record it as I hear it in my head. I think that there are band versions to a lot of my songs from that first record, Think of Her, that just didn't end up making the cut because we were cutting way too many corners and it wasn't professional enough to release. I've just had to be creative on how to get around that. Honestly, that's one reason why I've played most of the instruments on my album. It's not to prove that I can play a lot of instruments, its more because while I'm writing my songs, I sort of produce them in my head as well…thinking about the beat and the musical hooks. I'm thinking of all the parts of the song just as much as the lyrics and melody. Raising the full kickstarter campaign budget allowed me to really capture a band moment on this new record. I got this drummer, Matt Chamberlain, one of my all time favorite drummers, as well as this bass player David Labruyere, who's become a good friend of mine. Both of these guys are incredible and have played on tons of amazing records. The three of us got together in LA with this producer Mitchell Froom and we just threw down. We didn't use a click on any of the songs. It was my voice, whatever instrument I was playing, the drums, and bass basically going down to tape as a single fluid performance. That is an old school way of making records, but I feel like it just captures an energy, a spirit, and the way that the songs want to breathe. That energy can sometimes gets lost when you throw it all onto the computer in ProTools one part at a time. It can lose that essence and human charm when you just depend on the computer to fix it and line it all up. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2233502/cody3_905.jpg" width="770" height="431" width_o="770" height_o="431" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2233502/cody3_o.jpg" data-mid="11602282" border="0" align="left"/> RB: For me, as a director, I always enjoy getting to work on projects that allow me to bring in my incredibly talented friends. I know that we're on to something when the guys that I convince to come on board are basically better than me (laughter). Talk about the community of players that you surround yourself with when you make a record or go on tour. Are you looking for guys who are "better than you" so to speak? AD: Yeah definitely, I'm always in sponge mode when I'm around people who I respect and who have done really great things. I think you just have to be in sponge mode all the time, ready to soak in any type of knowledge that someone might have to offer. The great part about working specifically with these guys on this record, is that they are a little older than I am and they've played on tons of records and have such a sense of music history. I do a lot of listening and ask a ton of questions. Even little things, like every time they mention a record that I haven't heard, I type it down in my phone and then go listen to it later. I guess that I sort of try to acquire their knowledge. Well, steal as much as possible… (laughter) RB: Sure AD: Basically, I think you have to be in love with learning about the little things. It"s not just like you are trying to hire the best guys to get the job done quickly so that you can have a record that you can sell and just get on with your career. I really want to learn the essence and the back story and the little nuanced things about the craft. There were moments when I was recording with Mitchell Froom and Matt Chamberlain and Dave. We were all sitting around the table and they were trading all these old stories, like "…did you hear about how Sly Stone did this" or "there is a famous story about so and so doing this…" These are stories that I've never heard and I'm just salivating. Even secretly recording it with my iphone under the table, because I'm so excited to hear them. I think that you really just have to lean into what you love and be willing to just be hungry to learn from everyone around you who seem to be doing the things that you want to be doing Be looking for those around you that are better. I mean, I'll hire guys who have insane licks so that I can try and learn them and reinterpret them into my style. Its kind of like vocabulary that I can use in a song. I think you have to realize that there is always tons to learn, otherwise you'll plateau and get really bored with life and with your career. RB: Well its probably an essential component to having a long term picture of your career. You can't just exist in this moment. If you want to continue to do it further down the road, you'll need more tools, more input, and a lot of times you can only learn that from other people. AD: Yeah, I think it comes down to doing what you love and committing to it. I remember being in high school and applying for college. Counselors would tell you that it's good on your college resume if you go volunteer at this one place and if you are involved in the chess club and junk like that. But really, you don't love chess or you really don't like volunteering at that place. But then you just do it because it looks good on your resume. I think that a lot of people carry that into life and into their professional careers. They might do things just because it helps them get another job or just helps pay their bills and not go broke. But it's a never ending cycle if you don't stop and ask yourself, "what do I really love? What am I just a nerd about?" We've got to lean into it and embrace the nerdiness of whatever we love. We've got to learn everything about it, and then hopefully we can actually start making a career out of the things we love being a nerd about. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2233502/booth1_905.jpg" width="770" height="484" width_o="770" height_o="484" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/2233502/booth1_o.jpg" data-mid="11602671" border="0" align="left"/> ///////////////////// CREDITS: Music by: Andy Davis Music performed by: Andy Davis David LaBruyere Matt Sherrod ///////////////////// Directed by: Ryan Booth VISUALS: Cameras: Cody Bess Micah Bickham Ryan Booth Andrew Hudson Daniel Karr Edited by: Ryan Booth Graded by: Ryan Booth & Cody Bess Titles by: Tyler Swanner Photos by: Cody Bess Polaroids by: Ryan Booth AUDIO: Engineered by: Jay Snider Mixed by: Jay Snider Mastered by: Daniel Karr Illustration and Design by: Tyler Swanner ///////////////////// AUDIO ONLY VERSIONS** SerialBox Presents: Andy Davis by SerialBox Presents **works on iOS devices http://serialboxpresents.com/David-Ramirez http://serialboxpresents.com/following/serialboxpresents.com/David-Ramirez Thu, 04 Aug 2011 15:50:40 +0000 SerialBox 1675482 <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675482/Ramirez_Header_2_905.jpg" width="770" height="362" width_o="770" height_o="362" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675482/Ramirez_Header_2_o.jpg" data-mid="8984289" border="0" align="left"/> "The first time I saw David Ramirez play, it was in a some smokey dive bar of a venue on a Tuesday night. It was late and I honestly had no idea who the other bands were that were playing that night. I'd just been told, "if you even remotely like David's records, then you must see him play live." So there I was. It was a bit of a watering hole, filled with raucus regulars for whom the music was merely an excuse to lean in to yell in each other's ears. From the corner of the room, I see David walk up on stage carrying his guitar. He plugged in, put his beer down by the mic stand, and started playing over the chatter and clinking beer bottles. And that is when something truly special happened. By the end of the first verse, half of the room was silent. By the end of the first chorus, the entire room. By the end of the first song, the bartenders stopped serving drinks because the entire bar was on their feet and had moved in towards the stage. Every head was turned, every conversation halted, every eye on him. He'd been playing, by himself, for less than five minutes. That has only happened a few times in my life, when someone so gracefully reaches down and absolutely demands your attention. It was in that moment, mouth hanging open, that I knew who our next session had to be..." -RB David was gracious enough to stop by and track a few songs off of his last couple of records, American Soil and the Strangetown EP. Be sure to check out the audio only versions of the songs, you'll find one song previously unrecorded, as well as the entirety of the session. Ryan Booth then sat down with David and talked a little more about performance as craft and wearing your heart on your sleeve... /// <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675482/dr7_905.jpg" width="770" height="386" width_o="770" height_o="386" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675482/dr7_o.jpg" data-mid="8984321" border="0" align="left"/> RB: Do you feel like writing, for you, is a discipline thing or an inspiration thing? DR: It's definitely a mixture of both. I have to be disciplined about it every day and really sit down and pursue it…see what happens. Some things do come out of that, but I've found that the more disciplined you are and the more that you show up, the more often inspiration seems to show up. Inspiration tends to hit harder when you've prepared yourself for something. So yeah, the discipline doesn't really seem to produce on its own. I don't ever really get a song out of sitting down every day and writing. Things come up, but nothing I'm really excited about. I see that as just the preparation for those inspired moments. When everything hits at the right time. It's a lot easier to not miss. But of course that's a hard question, cause I'm talking about it like it's a fact, but it changes all the time. The truth is sometimes it's there and sometimes it's not. I just don't necessarily know that that is the point. Maybe we're just supposed to show up and be willing to be there. RB: What do you do when you feel like you're doing your part, showing up everyday, and the inspiration isn't necessarily taking care of it's part and showing up? DR: Man, I get so frustrated. I get really, really frustrated. Cause it can be months between those moments. I mean, I haven't really put out anything new or fresh that I've enjoyed for at least six months or so. It causes a lot of frustration. But, then again, even in the last couple of weeks things have started peaking their heads above ground. And it's that familiar, exciting feeling of making something new. But, in the absence, it's frustration. I don't really know how to rememdy that frustration and allow myself to get out of it. It just pisses me off. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675482/cody1_905.jpg" width="770" height="450" width_o="770" height_o="450" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675482/cody1_o.jpg" data-mid="8984291" border="0" align="left"/> RB: I've seen you play a couple of times and you walk up on stage with a guitar and basically make people listen to you. Does that wear on you? DR: No, it doesn't. And I'm surprised by that. What wears on me is the writing and the trying to tell a story or get something out that I'm experiencing. The performance aspect is less about me in a lot of ways. I mean, I'm part of the equation, but the audience is the other half. That's how I look at it at least. It doesn't really exhaust me because I feel like I'm getting into a relationship with a group of people and we ride that train together. I really like that and get a lot of joy from that. I do my part and I tell my story and do my best to make it as real as it was the first time and I feel like they do their part and they listen and relate to it and connect. And they communicate back to me in their own way. Maybe through their eyes or their silence. I feel like the burden is carried through multiple people. RB: Would you say it's a 50/50 equation or would you say it skews one way or the other in terms of who's carrying what? DR: I'd say it changes. Especially if it's an audience that doesn't give a shit. Maybe it's more like 75/25 on my side. I just really push hard on those nights. But sometimes the audience is so invested and so involved I'm allowed to just be me. Those are really special nights. RB: Would you say the performance part of music is a craft in and of itself? Does the way that you perform these songs live take honing and effort and practice and skill and natural ability and all of those things that define and make up a craft. Yeah I think that it does. You sit down and talk to someone who is extremely wise and intelligent about any topic in the world and you can gain a lot from them. but you put them in front of a room full of people and the thoughts might not translate. Just like public speaking is an art form in and of itself, performing music is as well. We're all trying to tell a story and convey a message and you have to do it in your own way. I've found my way that works even though it's taken me a long time to get there. I still find faults in what I do and of course there are things to change and ways to get better. It's one of the hardest parts to have to get out there in front of people. RB: Do you know when you're really connecting with a crowd? Do you know when you're telling a story well? Runners describe the feeling of when everything is clicking, this "high" where they can't feel their legs anymore. Is there that kind of analogy for you when you're playing? DR: I do know when I'm connecting with the crowd. I can feel that cause a relationship starts to form. That's really what I look for the whole time. I'm never searching to disappear on stage where people no longer see me. I love when that happens, but that's not necessarily my goal. My goal is really to have that moment with that one person or those ten people or a whole room. That's the most exciting thing for me. That's why I decided to go out and play instead of just staying in my room and singing to the wall. I always notice when those moments happen… <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675482/cody2_905.jpg" width="770" height="474" width_o="770" height_o="474" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675482/cody2_o.jpg" data-mid="8984293" border="0" align="left"/> RB: A lot of your songs are story based, they seem very narrative. Do you feel that as a writer you need to have experienced things personally to be able to write about them? DR: I'd like to be able to tell some stories that didn't personally happen and recently that's something that has started to happen. But everything so far on the last couple of records are all personal accounts of stuff that has gone down. Hopefully I can begin to break away from that. I don't know if it's a bad thing for it to have happened to me, but it's something I want to push myself in as a writer. RB: Do you feel like it'd be an evolution for you to write a song about something that hasn't happened to you? For you to capture a feeling to the point that people think, "surely that must have happened to him because there is no way he could have that kind of insight, that nuance or detail the way that it exists in that song otherwise." What would it mean for you to be able to do that without it having happened to you? DR: Yeah, it'd be an evolution, but I'd like to do it more for protection too. I do enough wearing my heart on my sleeve in these songs and I toil a lot over what I do and say personally. I want to tell these stories and want to be honest and want to emanate a lot of feeling and emotion. Personally I just need a break from that sometimes. RB: Do you feel like the more you're emotionally and personally wrapped up in the things you're trying to say or write that it helps or hinders the process? DR: I would say hinders. Defintely. RB: What do you mean by that? How so? DR: When I'm emotionally invested, have a lot of thoughts and feelings on the issue, whatever it may be, it can keep me so close to the song that I don't get to stand back and get some clarity on the situation. For example, say I could be in a relationship with a girl and it ends. My first gut reaction would be to write about it, but often nothing that's quality or decent comes out. I might crank out a breakup tune about a girl, but it might not be until nine months, a year that I really gain any clarity over what actually happened. I need some time to step away and breathe a bit. It's being too emotionally involved that can hinder that insight. RB: So you need time to digest? DR: Exactly. RB: Do you feel like, as a writer, that dissatisfaction with what you've made is a prerequisite to making better things or do you feel that the gnawing "I could do that better" gets in the way of you actually getting better. DR: I was just talking with a buddy last night about writing and he asked me what my favorite tune was, one that'd I'd written that I just really loved and get excited about every time that I play it. I spit off a couple, ones that I feel are really pretty complete and aren't lacking much. But that was a few months ago and now i'm ready to do something new. Not that I've gotten over them like they don't mean anything, but I'm ready to write something else and to have that feeling with another piece. Sure, there are songs that I'm dissatisfied with but there are songs that I'm satisfied with and that I want to hold on to forever. I'm trying to remove myself and try not to inflict so much pain on myself during the process. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I've always been the kind of writer who can't really begin the process without a shot of whiskey and a cigarette. I wouldn't mind getting away from that for a little while. I think I'm going to start being satisfied. (laughter) We'll see where that gets me. RB: I think there are phases. The kind of things we make in certain times in lives will be made in a certain way, and then the tools exhaust themselves and we have to try new ways of making things… DR: Exactly. I can definitely see how both satisfaction and dissatisfaction propel people. It seems like more of an opinion or individual approach. The whole process, for every medium, is so intriguing. You'll get a different answer from everyone you ask... <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675482/drflat_905.jpg" width="770" height="290" width_o="770" height_o="290" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675482/drflat_o.jpg" data-mid="8984332" border="0" align="left"/> RB: What do you hope people take away from bumping into your music? DR: I don't talk too much during my shows. I feel like most of my sharing comes in the music so I don't feel the need to discuss that often, but one thing I've been saying recently is that sure, I sing a lot about pain and I sing a lot about hard things, but they aren't things to be afraid of. They aren't things to run away from all the time. They are the things propel us to be better. That's something that I've been hoping to communicate. I'm sure a few years from now there will be something else, but the content of American Soil and Strangetown is a lot about walking through some of that pain and I'd hope people wouldn't shy away from it. That when we connect over the music, they know they aren't alone and that everything is going to be ok. // CREDITS: Music by: David Ramirez Music performed by: David Ramirez Lindsey Kirkendall Ryan Owens Jesse Fox Andy Shelton /// Directed by: Ryan Booth VISUALS: Cameras: Cody Bess Ryan Booth Andrew Hudson Daniel Karr Neil Sandoz Edited by: Ryan Booth Graded by: Ryan Booth & Cody Bess Titles by: Tyler Swanner Photos by: Ryan Booth & Cody Bess AUDIO: Engineered by: Jay Snider Assisted by: Ty Robins Mixed by: Jay Snider Mastered by: Daniel Karr Production Assistance by: Chris Cullins Illustration and Design by: Tyler Swanner /// AUDIO ONLY VERSIONS: SerialBox Presents: David Ramirez by SerialBox Presents **Thanks to Catalina Coffee for the generous use of their space. Go drink their coffee. It's the best in Houston. http://serialboxpresents.com/Balmorhea http://serialboxpresents.com/following/serialboxpresents.com/Balmorhea Sun, 03 Jul 2011 00:07:41 +0000 SerialBox 1675489 <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675489/Balmorhea_header_v1_905.png" width="770" height="362" width_o="770" height_o="362" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675489/Balmorhea_header_v1_o.png" data-mid="12199796" border="0" align="left"/> Balmorhea is a band that doesn't fit into only one category. They're instrumental, but not post-rock. They're as comfortable playing in the Renaissance cathedrals of Europe as they are in smokey American bars. They're music scales from the personal to the communal. It's meant to be experienced in equal parts solitude and community. Balmorhea has achieved the elusive goal of any artist: finding their "voice." When you describe their music to someone who hasn't heard it before, you don't describe a litany of other bands, you simply say, "you'll have to hear it for yourself." Balmorhea sounds like, well, Balmorhea. Balmorhea stopped by the studio to track a few songs off their recently released Candor/Clamor EP, as well as try out a new, yet-to-be-titled song. Ryan Booth then sat down with founding members Michael Muller and Rob Lowe to discuss the band, writing from a distance, and why so many songs remain untitled through their early iterations... //////////////////////// RB: I find it particularly interesting the way that you guys are able to tour in Europe. What is the difference between playing shows in the states versus playing shows in the EU? MM: There seems to be a greater infrastructure of arts programs, which because of government funding, have budgets to spend on music events, rather than relying solely on ticket sales. It makes touring a lot more comfortable. Also, it seems a lot of times people hosting shows don’t care who you are or why you’re there. They’re just having you play so people can come in and buy beers and then leave. RB: Are you guys playing to more people in Europe than you are in the states on a typical tour, or does it feel pretty comparable? RL: On average, I’d say in the big cities we usually play to two to three hundred people no matter where we are. Whether it's Paris or New York, that’s pretty standard across the board. However, small towns? I'd say that we probably play for more people in Europe than we do in the US. We can play in a tiny European town that we’ve never really heard of and can still have a hundred people come for some reason. There’s something about people in small towns in Europe. If they are going to host the show and pay you, they are going to invite a lot of people and a lot of people are going to come. In the US when we’ve played in Wichita Falls at a little coffee shop maybe five or ten people would come. Maybe we play to more people in small town Europe because its promoted better or maybe there’s some novelty to us being an American band touring over there that attracts more people... RB: Would you say that the people who come to your shows in the US have heard of you and they're coming to listen to you specifically whether that be five people or a couple of hundred people. But in Europe the culture is one in which it's a priority to go to a show and they are going out to listen to music irrespective to the band that’s playing? RL: Yeah, it seems that way. Particularly in Italy and Spain, we will go and play in a really small venue where the stage is barely big enough for us to sit on and people definitely are there whether or not they’ve heard of us. You end up with a lot of people who maybe aren’t "fans". Its not like they have all your records and that’s why there are coming to see you. Maybe they go to this little bar all the time because they host international music and they’ve listened to a track on myspace, and they are kind of familiar a little bit, but they are not necessarily fans. They come just because it’s a place they enjoy seeing live music. It just feels different than the States. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675489/cody_balmorhea1_905.jpg" width="770" height="513" width_o="770" height_o="513" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675489/cody_balmorhea1_o.jpg" data-mid="12189092" border="0" align="left"/> RB: Do you feel that its critically important for people to see you guys play? For me personally, watching you guys play the music versus listening to the record, there’s an entire other layer that you get out of seeing you guys perform it live. Do you feel like that for people to really get you, they need to see live? RL: I used to not think about that too much, but over the last couple of years I think that I’ve started to realize there is a big difference between the music that we have recorded and the music we play live. They can be pretty different things. I think that a lot of the music that we play was written and recorded three, four five years ago, so many of these songs have taken on a life of their own over the years. They tend to change and ultimately, improve. MM: And even beyond that, we have a new drummer and new cellist even the people playing the parts from the record are different from who plays it now. RL: I think when we first started the band, we didn’t really know what we were doing. We’ve been recording and playing for a while now and I’m proud of what we do on our recordings and proud of what we do live. I think you are right that they are very different things and they have a different feeling to them. Going back and listening to the record makes me realize that even though it's still the same song in pretty much the same form, it can have a totally different feel in different contexts. I think seeing Balmorea live is pretty important in understanding what the band is. RB: Everyone in the band is very multi-instrumental, something that becomes clear when seeing you play live. When you listen to the record, you wouldn’t necessarily know that when you see the song played live, the person that started out on the vibes is not the person who ends the song on the vibes. Is that a performance decision or is that fundamental to you guys being able to execute the songs as you hear them in your head? RL: Totally fundamental as far as I know it. It wouldn’t have ever crossed our minds to make a decision like that based on the appearance. It’s too much work… RB: I don’t mean that in a negative way as much as it’s a way to fully descibe who you are as a band; so seamlessly playing all these different instruments. I’m just curious how that kind of works itself out. Is that set in place from the time you record the song? Does it emerge in rehearsals before you start playing the song live? RL: It's a relatively recent thing actually. We’ve been trying to write songs that sort of change and morph and have a little bit more scope than we have in more recent past when I would spend whole songs on the piano or acoustic guitar. I mean, we're a band that doesn’t have vocals and we try to play to the strengths of an instrumental band and that is really working with textures. We often work in sections where we might have an ensemble working here at the beginning and then it might change halfway through the song and we’ll rearrange for a different section. Maybe someone else will pick up another instrument to take the song in a different direction. Who knows, maybe one day we’ll do another record with just two acoustic guitars all the way through. But right now, the nature of what we are trying to say musically calls for a little more flexibility with instrumentation. Besides, it's fun to go play the piano for a while, then hop over to the vibes and play a line on that. Michael even plays a little bit of drums with the live set… MM: And very well I might add! RL: Sometimes we end up a big tangle in the middle of the stage of all the cords, but we work it all out. (laughter) <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675489/cody_balmorhea3_905.jpg" width="770" height="334" width_o="770" height_o="334" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675489/cody_balmorhea3_o.jpg" data-mid="12189093" border="0" align="left"/> RB: You mentioned that you have "something to say" and that the way that you create textures with your instrumentation helps that. As a band that doesn’t rest on lyrics to do the talking, how do you have "something to say" with no words? It seems like a brave decision to allow so much to your audience's imagination, letting them participate in what you are trying to say. MM: When you are writing lyrics, you are explicitly making a statement. Sometimes you can be a little more impressionistic with language, but for the most part words do all the communicating. We are dealing with a little more abstract form communication, and It’s a lot more open to interpretation. It's open for interpretation from the audience, but also for us. It's not like we are writing a song about a loved one dying. It may actually have been written about that sort of thing by the one who writes it; but really, it's just a piece of music that can and does mean different things to the people who listen to it - as well as to those of us who play it. As the years go by, the songs begin to take on a different quality for us. It's all very open. RB: You guys have such a distinctive sound. I'd be curious as to who some of your musical influences are. MM: I grew up listening to really heavy music if you can believe it. Heavy Metal, Punk, Hardcore... I was five years old and had every Black Sabbath and Metallica album. But then my family moved to Texas and people there listened to country and rap which was stuff I had no clue about. At some point my focus narrowed to a lot of instrumental music in the late nineties. Predominantly one band and their many side bands, called Tortoise. They're definitely my favorite live band. RL: Tortoise has had a huge influence structurally as well. I don't have as long of a history listening to Tortoise, like Michael does, but that band is a huge influence on what I do. They are a band that has been around for a long time and has done all kinds of different things. Every record is its own thing. Every record is different. They obviously feel the liberty to do whatever they want and because it's so good they are given a lot of respect. It's given bands like us the permission to really push farther and do what it is that WE want to do. They've shown us it's ok to change from record to record. They're extremely open with their identity as a band and that's hugely inspiring. RB: How do you guys push yourselves creatively? MM: Rob has a very uncanny knack of seeing something very creative and unique, and then pushing himself beyond that to make things that I would never think of. At first glance it's kind of scary because it's so different, but often after listening back and put aside my own OCD, clean-and-simple way that I like to do things, I see that it really works. I think the difference in our personalities makes this band work, creatively speaking. Rob is always pushing the envelope and striving for something new, while I have a simpler palate and like things straightforward. I tend to act as a filter to bring back some of the ideas from the edge. RL: I think there are so many things that I run into every day that are inspiring creatively. It'd be so boring to not try new things all the time. RB: Now Michael, you live in New York now. How has that influenced and impacted the band? Would you say that the city itself is bringing something to the table as you're working on this new record? How has being there changed the way that you hear, write, and perform music? MM: That's interesting. I'm not sure if there is something tangible or specific yet. But honestly, I'm sure it's something I'll realize fully later in my life. I've definitely seen and heard things here that I wouldn't have other wise. The other day, I saw this composer Nico Muhly perform an ensemble piece with the Brooklyn Youth Choir. It was beautiful and I know that seeing and hearing that is a function of being in New York. I haven't been exposed to as many varied kinds of art on my own time as I have here. I know that much. But as far as actually playing music, we have this one song that we're working on now, for example, that we've tracked and the song will just run through my head for days and days on end. A lot of times I'm thinking about the music without thinking about it. It's been interesting to hear our songs in my head mixing with all the crazy sounds in the city. I have amassed a lot of little field recordings of weird sounds in the city. Like an opera singer in the subway, for instance. They're all things that could lend to ideas in our own music. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675489/cody_balmorhea5_905.jpg" width="770" height="318" width_o="770" height_o="318" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675489/cody_balmorhea5_o.jpg" data-mid="12199778" border="0" align="left"/> RB: So one of the songs that you guys tracked with us was "Untitled." Curious if that has gotten a title or if it's officially become Untitled? MM: Is that the one with singing on it? RB: No. RL: Oh, the strumming one. RB: Uh huh. (laughter) MM: That is still Untitled. We tend to not title anything until we absolutely have to. As in, we often wait until we're working on the artwork for the record and we're literally forced to decide. RL: We tend to title them in our heads as we play them, formulating them as the "New Song." Or the "New New Song." Or even the "New New New Song." We're pretty bad about it. (laughter) RB: Really? Why wait so long to title the songs? RL: The songs on our records are often written very far apart. It isn't until you get to the end of making a record when we start thinking about how we're going to present this collection of songs to the world. You start taking stock of what you have and begin thinking about the common thread. MM: Because a lot of our songs aren't really about something specific, you can really title them whatever you want. So honestly I don't really think about the name until we have all the songs grouped together. It's interesting because that process really adds another layer to the music, when the common themes reveal themselves. RB: So the title can't really exist until the record is being finalized, in a way, given that it is relative to the song on the left and the right of it on the the record. RL: A lot of times you get to the end of a project and realize there was a lot more going on than you thought while you were making the individual parts. Titles are about the collective. RB: I think people sometimes have a hard time dealing with bands that don't have vocals in the traditional sense. It seems like people struggle a bit with how to describe the music and "post-rock" is the only nail they can see to hang their hat on, whether it's an accurate description or not. Do you feel like "post-rock" is a lazy description? RL: I think that almost every musician is uncomfortable with being identified with a certain genre or sub-genre. "Post-rock" has such a specific vibe to it, it has such a specific image that you think of when you hear the term, the kind of band, the kind of fan. What's funny is that there really is probably only a couple bands that fit squarely into that category that we like at all. We don't really do the "rock" thing very much, though there are obviously elements in our music. But it just doesn't feel like us. If you were describing our music to someone who hadn't heard us and you used the term "post-rock," I'm not sure that the band in their mind would match the band they hear. Now, maybe that's total bullshit and we totally fit in that category and that's just me being arrogant hoping that we don't! (laughter) MM: I mean, the format of our instrumentation doesn't really make sense for the genre anyways. I mean, we have piano, a string quartet, and acoustic guitars. I don't know, it just doesn't seem like the same as a band with bass, drums, two electric guitars, and a quiet/loud, heavy, driving quarter-note rhythm. RL: You know, in the past we've had a few songs that were a lot more like that. Maybe they even have that "post-rock" sound. But it's been so long since we've sounded like that that it just doesn't fit. I mean, if you listen to our last full length, Constellations, it's quiet piano music. You can't really be "post-rock" and have these little piano songs. (laughter) MM: Well, Tortoise is a lot of times considered "post-rock" but they absolutely don't fit that description. Tortoise is Tortoise. They have a sound all their own and you can't really describe it other than "you should just probably listen to it and decide for yourself." Sometimes music just isn't easily describable. RB: Are you guys ok with not being easily defined? From an artistic perspective and from a commercial perspective, are you ok with people having to work to encounter your music? RL: I am. MM: Yeah, I am too. One of the joys of music, to me, is researching and finding out about the band and their members and past members and what bands they'd played in before. I love finding out their other collaborations and their influences. I think there is something intriguing about a band that isn't always so easy to figure out…a band with mystique. I do think that by nature, the style of music we play lends itself to a bit of mystery… RL: It does make it more difficult not fitting into a specific "scene." It can make it harder finding other bands to tour around with, but honestly it just is what it is and I think we're fine with it. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675489/cody_balmorhea4_905.jpg" width="770" height="463" width_o="770" height_o="463" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1675489/cody_balmorhea4_o.jpg" data-mid="12189096" border="0" align="left"/> RB: Something that has really emerged in the last several years is TV/Film and commercial placements. Your music is very cinematic and abstract, have you guys had success with placements at this point? RL: We've had some success, but it's a weird thing that it is the main way that a lot of people in our world end up making any money at all. You just don't really make much of anything selling records these days. The audiences just aren't big enough. But placements feel so passive. You can't really do anything specifically to try and get these placements. I mean, you make your music and then someone somewhere might want to use it in a commerical? It's very strange. What's more exciting than liscensing is getting the chance actually write music specifically for a film or a piece of art. That's always sounded more interesting to me. RB: Oh really? What is a movie that you've seen recently that made you wish that you'd scored it? MM: Tree of Life was great. For music to go along with something so abstract and cinematically beautiful would be amazing... RL: Though it'd be totally freaky to score a Terrence Malick film. You'd have to take a whole year off to try and write music that would be worthy of that quality of filmmaking. (laughter) ////////////////////////////////////////// CREDITS: Music by: Balmorhea Music performed by: Rob Lowe Michael Muller Aisha Burns Dylan Rieck Kendall Clark /////////////////////////// Directed by: Ryan Booth VISUALS: Cameras: Cody Bess Ryan Booth Scott Brignac Andrew Hudson Joey Mathews Neil Sandoz Edited by: Ryan Booth Graded by: Ryan Booth Titles by: Tyler Swanner Photos by: Cody Bess AUDIO: Engineered by: Jay Snider Assisted by: Ty Robins Assisted by: Ashton Nagle Mixed by: Jay Snider Mastered by: Daniel Karr Illustration and Design by: Tyler Swanner //////////////////////////// AUDIO ONLY SerialBox Presents: Balmorhea by SerialBox Presents http://serialboxpresents.com/Thad-Cockrell http://serialboxpresents.com/following/serialboxpresents.com/Thad-Cockrell Wed, 11 May 2011 04:27:49 +0000 SerialBox 1389168 <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1389168/mainbanner_905.jpg" width="770" height="362" width_o="770" height_o="362" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1389168/mainbanner_o.jpg" data-mid="6925849" border="0" align="left"/> Thad Cockrell is one of those songwriters whose work truly speaks for itself. He's the kind of guy who leaves other songwriters shaking their heads bemused and bewildered, wondering how in the world he comes up with these songs. But he's also the kind of guy who leaves his audience wondering how he knew, rather specifically, what they were thinking… Quite simply, Thad is a writer. Recently, when Thad came in town for a couple of acoustic shows, we invited him to stop by the studio to track a few songs off his 2008 LP, To Be Loved. Now, in our interview together the following day, Thad mentioned being inspired by artists who weren't too precious with their music. Suffice to say, this session was, in many ways, Thad elaborating on that statement. You see, the two guys who played with Thad on this session only met him a few hours prior to tracking. The three of them had never played together, had no time to rehearse, and yet managed to record a keeper in the very first and only take of each of the songs. It was a beautiful musical moment made possible by some incredible musicians and by Thad being willing to let his songs lead where they may. We hope you enjoy what is surely the only version of these songs in existence... The following day, Ryan Booth met up with Thad and chatted a bit more about writing and the danger of subtext, about getting credit for showing up, being honest, and about songs that simmer for decades... /// <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1389168/Thad-6a_905.jpg" width="770" height="513" width_o="770" height_o="513" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1389168/Thad-6a_o.jpg" data-mid="6765698" border="0" align="left"/> R: It seems that a lot of musicians appear to have a recording life and a touring life. Do you find that those two worlds overlap? Or does it feel like two personalities...your "performance" version and your "recording" version of the music? T: Whenever I'm in the process of creating, I try not to let one have too much influence on how the other is going to take place. I try not to ask the question how am I going to play this live? Hopefully when people come to hear me play live, it's a completely different experience. I think you should always try and beat the album when playing live. Cause there is an energy that comes when playing and the people are there and they're building something with you that you can't build on your own. R: Do you feel a sense of ownership over the songs that you've written? Once you've created that thing and it's out in the world, does it feel like "yours"? T: Yeah, I definitely feel a sense of ownership, but also, in a weird way, I don't really feel like I wrote them. R: How so? T: Well, clearly I wrote them, but when I set out to create something, it means I'm attempting something beyond myself, something I don't know how to do. So when that happens, it's hard for me to take a whole lot of credit beyond being available and just showing up. I know I wrote those songs, but in a really cool way (and I think, healthy way) I feel like they are a gift as much as anything. I think that's one thing that helps keep me from having any repeat performance anxiety. If I thought it all came from me somehow, I'd get really weirded out. The weight of that would probably bog me down. R: So how do you begin that process of creating? When you write, is it more of a discipline thing or more an inspiration thing? Do you have to physically make the songs come out? T: No, it just comes out. I think when I first started writing songs, I was freaked out by the process. I relied on discipline. Like, I've got to do this and I need to show up and do this everyday because it's all on me. The more I got into it, the more I realized that more times than not, songs happened when I wasn't planning to write. I'd be going down the street or walking out of a building, and these songs seemed to just happen. And they worked better than the ones that in all my discipline, I sat down and wrote. R: When you write, do you feel like there is something you're trying to say, or it a dangerous thing to try and make a point? T: I think it's ok as long as it's something...well, look, there is no right or wrong way. I guess for me, there might be things that I'm trying to say in a song and I just don't really have any idea how to say them. You know what I mean? And it's not like I try and figure it out either. I just find that it's a common theme that my walking through life, at some point, has distilled itself into a song. I don't really know when songs begin to be written. I mean there are some songs that started out fifteen years ago and a common experience I have today might match up with that something from fifteen years ago and suddenly a song comes out. R: So it's a combination of both external and internal circumstance? T: That, and well, it's really the idea of being available and being really honest. R: Ah, interesting...do you sense when you're not... T: Being honest? Well, yeah, sometimes it's hard to know, right? I mean, no I can't say that I always know. But I can at least ask the question: is this as honest as I can possibly be? In other words, can I lift this rock up and go a little deeper? If you can, you might want to try. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1389168/thad9_905.jpg" width="770" height="362" width_o="770" height_o="362" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1389168/thad9_o.jpg" data-mid="6894773" border="0" align="left"/> R: What is it about your favorite music, your favorite songs, that you connect with so deeply? Why is your favorite music your favorite music? T: Why is my favorite music my favorite music? Well, if you were to ask the writers of those songs if they wrote them, I think they'd say no. You can always tell. Even in pop songs. There are some killer pop songs out there that I'll hear and think, you didn't write that. Nobody is that clever, no way it just came to them. Sure, they might take credit for it and then try the rest of their lives to be that clever again. But they get pissed off and bitter because they tried and nobody likes it because it isn't that pure thing from outside themselves. My favorite music has that thread...that sense that they didn't write it. R: Well then, if they didn't write it, who did? T: I would say the Spirit wrote it. R: What do you mean by that? T: I think God gives us gifts and songs are gifts. So either we take credit for those gifts or we realize that they came from outside ourselves. Even Dylan said that he couldn't go back to writing that stuff at the beginning. My favorite songwriter is Tom Teehull and he said that he got in the "zone." He might call it the zone, I might call it the Spirit. But whatever you call it, I say it's God being really heavy-handed with his giving, you know? A lot of people would probably disagree with me. (laughter) R: Well, honestly though, that seems to be a common theme. I mean the Greek notion of "Genius" is referring to that thing that hovers over your shoulder and gives you the ideas. We've been talking about this as humans forever. Where does art come from, where do these ideas come from? Because when we interact with them, it seems like we instinctively ask, "how did you come up with that? how did you make that?" T: Listen, I know myself and trust me, that wasn't me writing. I'd be afraid to take credit for it! Some people would say that is cowardly, they would say it's ridiculous to not take credit for what you make. But I don't care to take credit. Besides, I think that's why a lot of artists' early stuff is so powerful. People will say, I love his early records. Usually what people are saying is that they like what he did before he knew what he was doing. You know what I mean? Then all of a sudden they realize they have to beat what they've already made and that's when they're screwed. Because you can't beat it unless you know where the source comes from. Then you don't have to worry. R: Would you say that is the real battle? Not getting lost in the identity of what it is that you make? T: Yeah, definitely. Also, you need to be open to whatever the song wants to sound like. That's why Neil Young is so interesting to me. He's made lots of different kinds of music. All my favorite artists did. They weren't so heavy-handed, so precious with their "thing." Yet, it all still sounded like them. I bet it drove everyone around them crazy who were trying to sell what they did, you know? (laughter) <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1389168/thadwide_905.jpg" width="770" height="578" width_o="770" height_o="578" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/1389168/thadwide_o.jpg" data-mid="6953694" border="0" align="left"/> R: Do you feel like you have some clear goal or thing you're trying to accomplish? Is that something that you even think about? T: Yeah sure, but I don't really know what "accomplishment" looks like. At the end of the day art is a really weird thing to try and put a price on to sell. Just because people at one point don't find something monetarily valuable, doesn't mean that at another point they won't So, if that is the thing that you're chasing, then it's very hard. I try not to list things in the buying/selling category as things that I want to accomplish. The thing that I do want to do is to make music that reaches people, that communicates. I want to be a part of music that lifts people up out of where they are and carries them off. I want to make music that connects people. I want to make music for "us," not just for me. So when people hear the music, they can feel it's for them and not just for me. These days I think to make music with the pleasure of the audience in mind is really frowned upon. You know, this I only worry about me bullshit. The person that only worries about themselves is lonely. I don't care if they're married or not, that's a lonely place. I want to make music on a large scale and if that happened then it would probably be a lot of record sales. But I'd like it to be an outgrowth of connecting, rather than just trying to sell a bunch of records. R: And how does that affect your decision making? T: I never want to insult people's intelligence. The people that listen to your records, in general, are a lot smarter than the people selling to the American public think they are. So they really dumb things down. I don't want to dumb things down. I think we're pretty smart and I think we can grasp some pretty cool, heavy thoughts. You just have to do it in a way that's compelling. If it's the other way around, if you're just trying to sell a bunch of records, you'll always dumb down what you do. In a weird way, the music then comes across as really condescending. You start to notice a subtext. Strangely, I seem to notice a lot of that in indie-rock. R: What do you mean by that? T: Well, anytime you write music and you're purposely writing in the exclusion of certain people...(laughter)...writing this sense of they won't get this, well, that's a really asshole thing to do. You end up being guilty of the same exact things that they would say big corporate America does. It's just that they have their smaller, tiny thing. And you end up writing music for your little pond. You end up writing because you think you know what they can or can't take or will or won't be into. You know what I mean? You don't think it's there, but you realize, oh man, they're definitely writing to a demographic that they think they know... R: In other words, they've turned into their parents and they just didn't notice… T: Man, there is this really beautiful lyric in an Arcade Fire song. Win's writing about preachers judging from million dollar mansions, right? And he says that he used to think he wasn't one of them and now he is less prone to think that he's not. I thought that was a really beautiful piece of candid truth... SerialBox Presents: THAD COCKRELL from The Serial Box on Vimeo. R: So what's next for you? T: Well, I'm starting to make music with a band called LEAGUES. We're in the middle of making a record. It's really fun. The drummer is Jeremy Lutitio, guitar is Tyler Burkum, and the bass player is Mike Simons. We've recorded ten songs and are in the process of finishing them. Hopefully we'll get out and start playing soon. When we make music together, it feels like I couldn't make it with anybody else. Creating music with the three of them is really special and I can't wait to share that with people. ///////////////////////////////// CREDITS: Music by: Thad Cockrell Music performed by: Thad Cockrell Chase Jenkins Taylor Johnson ///////////////////////////////// Directed by: Ryan Booth VISUALS: Cameras: Cody Bess Micah Bickham Ryan Booth Daniel Karr Neil Sandoz Edited by: Ryan Booth Graded by: Ryan Booth & Cody Bess Titles by: Neil Sandoz Photos by: Ryan Booth AUDIO: Engineered by: Jay Snider Assisted by: Ty Robins Mixed by: Jay Snider Mastered by: Daniel Karr Production Assistant: Steven Hicks Illustration by: Zach McNair ///////////////////////////////// AUDIO ONLY VERSIONS** SerialBox Presents: Thad Cockrell by SerialBox Presents **works on iOs devices http://serialboxpresents.com/The-Damnwells-feat-Alex-Dezen http://serialboxpresents.com/following/serialboxpresents.com/The-Damnwells-feat-Alex-Dezen Tue, 10 May 2011 20:01:51 +0000 SerialBox 716951 <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/716951/damnwellsheaderfinal_905_905.jpg" width="770" height="300" width_o="770" height_o="300" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/716951/damnwellsheaderfinal_905_o.jpg" data-mid="7442157" border="0" align="left"/> When Alex Dezen of The Damnwells stopped by the studio and played a few songs off his new LP, Nobody Listens to the Band Anymore, he completely took the air out of the room. The songs are resonant and lyrical and full of story. And to hear the songs this way, with no other instruments, with no fuss, just a writer and his guitar...well, it seemed to reveal even deeper layers in the music. After we filmed our session, we worked with Alex to get a copy of Werewolves out in support of the record release. This release was prior to the full SerialBox Presents session, so we're re-releasing an updated video here along with audio versions of the other four songs that we tracked... Ryan Booth caught up with Alex at SXSW to chat about the new record, the particulars of crafting a song, and how songwriting can be like returning the favors that other musicians have given you with their music... <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/716951/damnwells serial_905_905.jpg" width="770" height="483" width_o="770" height_o="483" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/716951/damnwells serial_905_o.jpg" data-mid="7442149" border="0" align="left"/> RB: So tell me about the new record. How long in the making is this album for you guys? AD: Well we started making it at the end of 2009, so we've been making it for a long time. I was in graduate school, so I didn't really have time to devote 100% to making it. It was kind of a weekend thing or when I wasn't teaching or in class. RB: Is making an album a pretty enjoyable process for you? AD: Sometimes it can be really stressful, but usually it's pretty enjoyable. I love to be in the studio for hours and hours chasing down ideas and making interesting sounds. The only times it's not enjoyable is having to wait. Waiting to get mixes back, having to make a bunch of comments, waiting for changes. It can all get a bit daunting. RB: So, how long have you been playing as a band? AD: The Damnwells have been around since 2001, so going on ten years now. RB: How have you seen things grow and change? Do you think The Damnwells in 2001 would recognize The Damnwells in 2011? AD: No way. If the past Damnwells bumped into the future Damnwells and we did recognize each other, it would mean that we weren't evolving. It'd mean that we were just circling the same prey. We've grown, we've evolved, and hopefully we've gotten better. We've lost members, we've gained members, and we've lost members all over again. It's like a marriage in a lot of ways. But then again, I don't know if past Alex would recognize present Alex if we ran into each other anyways. It's just the natural progression of doing anything, of being alive. RB: Do you feel like there is a common thread between the two? Is it something you could pinpoint or is it just a vague familiarity? AD: No, there are probably lots of common threads. Some common ideas or lyrics or concepts… I sing a lot of songs about love. I sing a lot of songs about the confusion of religion. I guess those might be some common threads. Hopefully those ideas have become more clear. Or at least they've gotten more interesting in the way they're presented. (laughter) <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/716951/damnwells guitar_905_905.jpg" width="770" height="501" width_o="770" height_o="501" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/716951/damnwells guitar_905_o.jpg" data-mid="7442144" border="0" align="left"/> RB: As a writer, would you say that you're more of an inspiration guy or more of a discipline guy? AD: Probably purely inspiration. I don't really have much discipline when it comes to writing songs. When I'm writing fiction I have a lot of discipline because when you sit down to write a story or a book the last thing you want to do is write a story or a book. You'd rather check your email, or really anything other than write. Discipline is what gets you through. When I'm writing a song, I can't just sit down and force myself to write one. It feels like the stakes are much higher, because it has to come out of my mouth. So I guess it's a little bit of both. Inspiration will strike, and I try to be as "disciplined" as possible. But I don't think of it as discipline because I really enjoy sitting in my house for like seven hours working on a song, recording parts, adding harmonies, adding different layers. I find it incredibly enjoyable. I can forget about the constant, overarching anxiety of being alive, you know? I just sit there working and I don't have to turn on the television or pick up the phone. I don't have to talk to anybody and I don't even have to put on pants if I don't want to. (laughter) RB: Tell me about the process of working through the song Werewolves. AD: That song was particularly hard to write because of the way the phrasing of the verses work, it requires a lot of words. I had this chord progression in my head and then I had this idea for the phrasing, you know "Come on let us, da dumm, dumm, dumm." It just needed a lot of words, but a lot of the words I was writing sounded ridiculous. It took a long time to find the words for that song to say whatever it was saying... Then eventually it got so that I'd re-written the chorus a bunch of different times. I'd change the music and the phrasing and the melody of the chorus. I finally settled on dropping down to what would be the Bm, because it's a lot of major chords otherwise. It seemed to open the song up in a way that solidified the concept in the chorus, this "come and let her hear the werewolves if she wants to," and that made it a little bit easier to go back into the verses. I couldn't tell you specifically what that song's about, just that it took a long time to put together. SerialBox Presents: THE DAMNWELLS from The Serial Box on Vimeo. RB: When you finish a song, do you feel like it's yours? Or does it kinda feel like it becomes something you don't necessarily have ownership of? AD: After I write a song, I usually listen to it 3,000 times because it's this thing that I've created, you know? It's this precious little bundle of sonic joy, so I'll listen to it a lot, get sick of it, and then it'll naturally find its way into the catalog of unused songs or songs that are kind of waiting to put on to records. What's nice about that is that if you play it a lot at first and kind of obsess about it, then you can become desesnitized to all the subleties of it so that you don't want to listen to it at all. Sometimes you'll go three years without hearing that song again. And then when I put it back on, I'll be brought back to that original moment. Like everything's fresh again. And if it isn't fresh again, that's when I know it's probably not a good song. R: What do you hope someone who hears you play live or listens to the record in the car takes away from the interaction? In other words, is there something that you're really trying to say? AD: I don't know if i'm trying to say any one thing, but I definitely want people to be moved. Moved to love or moved to hate or even to change their frame of mind, if only just for a moment. Because for me, that's what music does when I listen to it. I guess i'm just trying to return the favor the other songwriters and other bands have given to me over the years. I think you can say things in a song that you can't really say in normal conversation. There are so many great, different ways of saying things that get down to the heart of the matter really, really quickly. I was just listening to a Butch Walker song the other day and he says, "I have to fill my lungs with smoke, just to get things off my chest." That's beautiful. And yet somehow that also makes perfect sense. There's things you can do in a song that you just can't do any other way. Sometimes it's just a moment. I do believe in music's transcendent power and I believe that it can be a force for something good, even if it's not necessarily a good song. /// CREDITS: Music by: Alex Dezen Music performed by: Alex Dezen Cameron Hammon /// Directed by: Ryan Booth VISUALS: Cameras: Micah Bickham Ryan Booth Neil Sandoz Trae Stanley Edited by: Ryan Booth Graded by: Ryan Booth & Cody Bess Illustration by: Andrew Shepherd Photos by: Ryan Booth Artwork by: Scott Erickson Album Artwork by: Tyler Swanner AUDIO: Engineered by: Casey Graham Mixed by: Jay Snider Mastered by: Daniel Karr Production Assistant: Matt Hammon /// AUDIO ONLY VERSIONS** SerialBox Presents: The Damnwells by SerialBox Presents **works in iOs devices http://serialboxpresents.com/Paper-Route http://serialboxpresents.com/following/serialboxpresents.com/Paper-Route Fri, 30 Jul 2010 20:12:42 +0000 SerialBox 540299 <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/540299/prthumb4_905.jpg" width="770" height="363" width_o="770" height_o="363" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/540299/prthumb4_o.jpg" data-mid="2496020" border="0" align="left"/>In a lot of ways, Paper Route is one of those bands that just seems to be one step ahead of everyone else. If anything, it seems that they are always touring more, working harder, and writing more interesting music each and every time that you catch up with them. New songs, new dates, new ideas for not just how to build a fanbase, but rather, how to build community around the music. Recently, while on tour with Owl City and Lights, Paper Route stopped by the SerialBox studio in downtown Houston to record a quick SerialBox session. Despite the cramped schedule, Paper Route managed to track four songs that day and now we begin the process of releasing them to you here... Ryan Booth managed to catch up with Paper Route's JT Daly to ask him a few questions about their infamous "trailer shows," the craft and significance of music, and a bit about how songs have lives of their own. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/540299/pr1_905.jpg" width="770" height="546" width_o="770" height_o="546" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/540299/pr1_o.jpg" data-mid="2496090" border="0" align="left"/> R: Why music? What is it about music that drew you in? Or, if you'd rather take a different angle, what do you view the role of the musician in the larger landscape of making things for people? JT: Why music? It really is my first love. It was just there. It was everything to me. I feel like there are a lot of perfect mediums, but I just love the way that music sits with people when they are a wreck. I don't know how else to explain it...I love the way that medium heals. I feel like, especially in your youth, that it is THE medium. What you gravitate towards. That's what you love and you just have no excuse for it. At some point a lot of people who still follow music start to get defensive about what they like. I just love the fact that there are these sort of grey years in everyone's life where they really do listen to whatever they want to. It heals and it's their heartbeat and I think that's why music is the foundation of everything that I'm a part of. R: Talk to me about the trailer shows. I know that sometimes after concerts, you guys perform what is essentially an acoustic set as you are packing up the trailer. The SerialBox session that we recorded was essentially a "trailer show" arrangement of the songs. Could you talk a little about that? JT: This band started as a complete accident. We never planned on it being anything past just something to kind of survive. It was a band born in a studio. And I think when we started releasing the music people started to connect with it alot more than we thought. This band was just a way for us to deal with life. It was therapy. And we were writing just because we love to write. So we started to go out and play shows and it forced us to evlolve and become a different type of a band. Genre-wise we had sort of fallen out of love with "rock music." We'd moved to Nashville and we'd seen these artists, these folk artists or Americana artists playing, and the attention was on what these artists were saying. So much attention is put on the lyric and it's such an intimate setting. You can hear everything. We fell in love with that. We had so much respect for that because we have always felt that artists should be judged on whether or not they have something to say. So it became this new sort of thing for us. We were falling in love with that and at the same time we were falling in love with this daydream type of music...this electronic music where you're essentially trying to say something without saying anything at all. You know, no lyric. So it was all of these worlds colliding. When we took Paper Route out on to the road, we were able to flirt again with the idea of energy and the idea of it being just this loud bombastic show. I guess the reason why the trailer shows, that whole scene happened, is because we felt like, in a lot of ways, that we had abandoned alot of what this band was born out of. And that is just stripped down songs where it just comes down to what the artist is telling you. It's a very intimate setting. Paper Route has a lot to do with a specific sound and has a lot to do with us just getting on stage and breaking things every night. But also there's something very specifc we are trying to say and let's bring everyone together like a community in this one spot and let's share this together. R: It's your Americana moment. JT: yeah, exactly, in a lot of ways... R: Has that been something that the average concert goer really has responded to? What has that sense of community been like? JT: Everyone can go to a concert and see it, but not everyone can have a conversation with the band after the show. Cause that's what it is, you know, we're singing it together. We all grew up in the church so the idea of people coming together and singing something as one is something we are very familiar with. In a lot of ways we've kind of slayed that and tried to make our own paths as artists and as men just trying to figure out what we believe in. You know, it kind of gave us our sense of wonder back a little bit just to see that not everyone is art snobs. Some people really still just want to feel and they don't care if they cry at the show, if they sing off key loud with the band...they just want to feel and that's why we fell in love with music. <img src="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/540299/pr2_905.jpg" width="770" height="732" width_o="770" height_o="732" src_o="http://payload.cargocollective.com/1/0/4725/540299/pr2_o.jpg" data-mid="2496092" border="0" align="left"/> Are We All Forgotten: R: What is it like to play a song like Are We All Forgotten in a concert setting, the "breaking stuff" setting, and then to walk outside and play it in the "community" setting? What's it like to watch songs live in these different ways and different places? JT: Honestly I feel like they say two completely different things. I feel like the live show version is almost a panic. It's a panic and it's fast and it's raucus. I feel like the emphasis on that version of the song is the "what are you waiting for" moment. There is this line that is said over and over again almost to the point that it's annoying. That's why we kept it, because it's an Americana type melody put in a fast electronic setting. We kept pushing that song in the studio to make sure it was as fast as it could be without ruining the cadence of the melody. That's what the song is about. It's so fast and then it breaks down to nothing . Then all of the attention in that moment is on the line "what are you waiting for." Whereas when we go out to the trailer and sing that song, it's a completely different feeling. It's very hyper-sensitive and it's very melancholy. I feel like the emphasis of the song is on the line "don't you break my heart." I feel like that's what people are really latching onto because when that moment comes in, everyone starts singing. Even if they only heard that song for the first time that night. They catch on because I feel like everyone can relate to that. When they sing "don't you break my heart" in the first chorus and then we get to the second verse it's quiet and you can hear every line. Then you hear "I still believe change can happen, though it's hard and it happens slowly..." It becomes a different song. It's not as much of a panic anymore. It's real. The SerialBox Presents: PAPER ROUTE from The Serial Box on Vimeo. R: I know that you said that art should be judged on what you have to say. Do you feel that that is an intentional process on the part of the artist? Do you have something very specific that you are trying to say or is the making the music and going through that creation process the place that you discover it? Or is a post creation thing...you only discover later what you were trying to say? JT: I think that everyone is very different, incredibly different, on their approach to that, even in the band. Me personally? It's kind of hard to explain and maybe that's kind of the point. I just kind of know when when I'm ready to sit down and write again and I kind of know when I'm ready to paint again. It's almost a hunger, you know? At that point it's just about being available and being ready because you really have no idea what's going to happen. I'm just there and I'm available. And the art just kind of, in a way, starts presenting itself. In Paper Route, in the songwriting process, nothing is sacred. The verse could become the chorus and vice versa. The best line of the song could get taken out of the song tomorrow because it's just headed in a new direction. I don't really know how to explain it, but I think at that point it's really up to people to decide whether or not they connect with it, whether or not their opinion finds it "good," and whether or not they think that we have anything to say. I guess the short answer is that I don't know if i have anything to say. I don't know if I'm good or I'm the worst artist that exists, I'm just trying. R: What do you guys hope to contribute through you guys' efforts with this particular band? JT: You know, obviously everyone wants this, but we would just love to be a band that has a career in which we can constantly evolve. We just want to be viewed as a band that is painfully honest. That would be the biggest compliment that we could ever get as a band. And whether or not that is depressing to some people, that's fine. Whether that's giving people a sense of hope, that would definitely be our goal...we know we aren't for everyone. /// *Check back here soon for more interviews, photos, and the release of three more songs (including Carousel and Last Time). Additionally, we will be making details available for how you can get copies of both the audio and video from this session... CREDITS: Paper Route is: Chad Howat JT Daly Gavin McDonald Andy Smith /// VISUALS: Cameras: Cody Bess Micah Bickham Ryan Booth Trae Stanley Scott Brignac Edited by: Ryan Booth Graded by: Cody Bess Titles by: Micah Bickham Photos by: Cody Bess AUDIO: Engineered by: Chase Jenkins Mixed by: Harold Rubens at Red Tree Recording Studio Production Assistants: Neil Sandoz Brian Yarbrough Illustration by: Andrew Shepherd