Tag: ecology

Ben Sollee’s Renewed ‘Long Haul’ Perspective on Earth, Life, and Music

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

Seven years have elapsed between Ben Sollee’s last studio release, his 2017 album with Kentucky Native, and his new one, Long Haul (arriving August 16). Much has happened in Sollee’s life since ‘17. His family has grown by two children. He worked on a number of soundtracks, even winning an Emmy Award in 2018 for his score on the ABC special, Base Ballet. The Kentucky born and based singer/songwriter/cellist, who has long been an advocate for environmental and other social causes, also helped launch a nonprofit named Canopy, which helps businesses in his home state positively impact people, the planet, and the future.

When COVID hit, it hit Sollee hard. “I was one of the early folks to get COVID in fall of 2020 and it stuck with me in a way that didn’t stick with other people.” During his prolonged recovery, he had to change how he ate, what he drank, how he slept, and how he exercised. “It turned into a journey of inward exploration and changing my external life. I really changed pretty much everything… It wasn’t until I started emerging from long haul [COVID], I was like, ‘Oh, I think I’ve got something to say about this.’”

While this album grew out of Sollee’s personal health crisis, it also was greatly affected by the death of his close friend and long-time collaborator, Jordon Ellis, who died by suicide in early 2023.

Always ready to blur genres, Sollee felt more free to expand his sonic palette on Long Haul, which includes a gospel-style choir, a Little Richard-inspired rock ‘n’ roll rave-up, West African rhythms, and Caribbean grooves. He purposely wanted to have lively, rhythmic melodies to balance deeply thoughtful lyrics.

“The same way,” he explained, “That Michael Jackson would have these big statements in the middle of these dance songs.” Sollee also recorded a special Dolby ATMOS Spatial Audio version for this album – a first for him – to underscore Long Haul’s immersive sound quality.

Part of what the title Long Haul refers to is your serious battle with long COVID and it also addresses life as being a long haul. How did the two interrelate for you, personally?

Ben Sollee: [COVID] definitely put me in relationship with my body in a way that I had never been before and once you start that relationship with your body, you realize just how interconnected everything is. I mean, we’re all on this long haul together… and I realized that maybe the most radical thing that I could do was to care for myself. That really shifted how I think of my live performances and really my purpose for being out on the road, [which] is to help people connect with themselves. Because once they connect with themselves, then they can have the capacity to be in relationship with nature, other people, animals, you name it. How I be in the world has shifted. It’s subtle from an external view, but internally it’s pretty profound.

How did this all affect your approach in making this album?

I realized that I had a very exploitative relationship with my creativity over the years, where it was just like: Here’s a project, just make stuff. And that was just really eye-opening.

I took a couple of different approaches in the making of this record. The passing of my friend and musical collaborator, Jordon, in the process of writing this record was really profound, because he was such a keystone to my creative process. It kind of forced me to think about how I was approaching music-making in the record without him.

So, I tried a couple different mantras, and one of them was “follow the resonance.” If it said something to me, I didn’t need to figure out why it said something to me, even if that is Polynesian flute playing or this sort of strange Tejano Caribbean groove – just follow it. In the past, I would kind of hedge; like I would hear something, I’d be really into that sound, but I wouldn’t feel like I could, for whatever reason. Like it’s not part of my cultural heritage. I would come up with a reason to be like, I shouldn’t make music with that sound or influence.

Another mantra was “show our fingerprints.” The way that we recorded the record – it was about hearing the hands and the strings and hearing the breath. I chose instruments that would really feature those human aspects of breath and touch. We incorporated woodwinds, which you can hear prominently on the first single, “Misty Miles.” We incorporated choirs in this record for the first time, because I really wanted that breath and sound. Much of the percussion is hand percussion. It’s a very tactile record… very high touch record.

You produced Long Haul. What was the recording process like?

It was a very intuitive, collective approach, and it meant that not only did the music turn out as a surprise to me and others, but it also meant that it was a very engaged, emotional journey. Adrienne Maree Brown [author of the book, Emergent Strategy] is really the inspiration for this – instead of having a singular artist’s vision, you really bring together a group of people in a facilitated way.

It made me maybe a little bit more brave and confident that wherever things went, we could execute that… I mean, musicians left the sessions crying, because they had such a good time and they felt seen and heard. And that, to me, means as much as the music that came out.

Did your experiences composing film soundtracks serve at all as an influence?

[Film work] also inspired me to explore Atmos. I really wanted this record to be an immersive experience, kind of like a sonic film. In keeping with that, there are a few songs that actually have sound design incorporated into them. It’s the first time I’ve done it in such an intentional and immersive way where we’ve got cars driving by with “Hawk and Crows.”

There is a real stylistic diversity to the sound of this album, like “Under The Spell” is one song with a funky dance groove to it.

[Laughs] I wasn’t trying to make a dance track. It started with that cello lick that you hear at the beginning. And it’s sort of this hypnotic West African loop of a lick that really began as kind of me trying to figure out some old-time banjo, like clawhammer music, on the cello.

The words are referencing this kind of duality… dealing with identity and self and how often we are under the influence of the stories that people tell of us. Every time I have this ambition, desire, and even just like the idea of me having something, it sets me down a path of being unsatisfied, which causes a lot of harm to other people and myself in the world. So, the words can go as deep as somebody wants to, but it’s also if people just want to release and have some sort of existential-like dance experience – then let’s go, let’s dance!

It touches on an evolution that I don’t expect anybody to notice in my music and career. My early records had a lot of direct social and political statements in the song. I realized that they were a little bit superficial and surface-y. They weren’t really getting it to the core of those issues. So, I’ve kind of moved into, I guess what I would call like a “post-activist” stance. My music has moved away from direct political commentary most of the time to more of a foundational, fundamental idea of togetherness, of connectedness.

“One More Day” stands out as a key song too.

I guess the original seed of that song emerged as I was beginning to travel again after Jordon had passed away – to places where he and I had traveled so many times. I started thinking about what would I have said had he called me in that moment of decision before he took his life? But the only thing that I would have really said to him is, “Listen, I hear you, I respect your decision, but what’s the rush? Like, if you’re going to do it, you’re going to do it, but you don’t have to do it right now. Just give it one more day, give it one more sunrise. Just get one last look.”

I think that’s what I would have said to him. And the song makes that case through different vignettes of our time together on the road. And, it does it over this Caribbean, Tejano groove that must have come from some jams that he and I did together. It must have. It just feels like a very Jordon groove. What I love about that is it has this real joyous, almost like early Police kind of vibe to it. There’s some really tough content in there and I just love the idea of people dancing at a festival – and just saying, “Give it one more day.”

The closing song, “When You Gonna Learn,” features a rousing gospel-style choir and addresses following your inner voice. It launches the listener out of the album and into the world in a very uplifting way.

I wanted to end with that message, because as a father I watch my four- and six-year-old who have yet to really settle into a sense of self or identity, and they are just so connected to their world and just basic truths about caring for things and protecting things and love and justice. And I think that it’s just more proof to me that there are things we know that get taught out of us. This song just is like: When are you going to learn that you already know?

You address a lot of tough issues on the album, but do so with a sense of humanism and spirited music that offer a hopeful way out of these challenging times.

I often reflect on that “Pale Blue Dot” image that Voyager took looking back at Earth and it’s just black and there’s just one little, tiny dot. And that dot really says it all, because it’s all there, as Carl Sagan says: every love, every heartbreak, every war, every church, it’s all on that one little dot.

So, we got to make it work here. And I think that’s the biggest challenge that we have right now. How do we make this work? I get that we’re going to make some big mistakes along the way. I sure have in my life. That’s where the grace comes in, but we got to make it work here. We don’t have another spot.

Photos courtesy of Big Hassle.

Open Mic: For Misner & Smith, Gardening Helps Their Creativity Thrive

Posted on by Justin Hiltner

(Editor’s Note: Open Mic is a BGS series with a simple premise – to remove all the filters between artist and audience and give musicians and creatives an Open Mic. With each installment, we’ll hold space for musicians to say whatever they’d like on any topic they like in any format that moves them most. It’s about facilitating real conversations and genuine insight with our roots music community.)

It’s been seven years since roots duo Misner & Smith began work on what would become their new album, All Is Song (out April 12). In that time, much has changed about the world. Yet through the simple act of tending a garden, Sam Misner and Megan Smith found inspiration in things that endure.

Grounding themselves in the balance of the Northern California ecosystem, both musicians say the last few years have brought a perspective shift that impacts their lives deeply – and that includes their acclaimed music. Becoming more connected to the land and the natural rhythm of things has freed their minds for creative pursuits, and according to them, it shows up in All Is Song everywhere: lyrically, sonically, and even in philosophic scope.

The duo used their Open Mic to talk about the under-appreciated similarities between gardening and growing a music career. And as a Master Gardener student at UC Davis (who also teaches others the deeply human activity of helping things thrive on the side), Smith recommend The Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation to learn more about how easy it is to encourage your local habitat.

Sam Misner: For years now, the garden has been a way of being creative, but with no other motivation than observing and cultivating and watching things grow, and being attentive to all of it. There’s a certain kind of awareness and peace that comes from that, because it’s outside of your own self. You’re not trying to showcase anything you are doing. It’s your connection to plants. And Megan truly has been the kind of, I don’t know what you would call it–

Megan Smith: The crazy person?

Sam: [Laughs] Yeah, the crazy person. Her vision for our garden and just what she wants to do with plants has been centered a lot around benefiting pollinators and creating habitats.

Megan: Music and art and gardening, I think they can seem like extracurricular activities. We’re taught from a very young age like, “… and if you have some time, do a hobby like music or gardening.” But I firmly believe that what these things teach you more than anything is that everything you do matters. Every little thing you put into the world has incredible weight. And if you keep pushing towards something that will have a positive and lasting effect, even if it’s a small one, it matters in the grand scheme of things and it makes a difference. And I’m a firm believer of that.

We’ve been doing music for 20 years this month and it’s a hard thing to do. You don’t do that for that long without some degree of faith and understanding that however small an impact you’re making, it matters. And doing the garden the way we’ve done it, it’s a similar thing. We’ve been living in Davis for about 15 years now, and there was nothing here besides a weedy lawn. Over the years, bit by bit, we’ve transformed it into a wildlife garden. And the things that we’ve both seen arrive and make their home here, it’s fantastic. It’s so gratifying, and we feel so privileged and so lucky to have the space in order to be able to do that for our little corner of the world. I think the music is the same.

It’s like, “Hey, we planted milkweed and the monarchs showed up in our garden.” And “Hey, we wrote a song infused with hope and comfort, and people looking for hope and comfort are appreciating it.” That stuff really does have ripple effects out into the world. And I think it is a job, but it’s also something we really do deeply believe in. The garden is just an affirmation in that way.

Sam: There’s something cyclical about it, too. There’s a reminder that things are born, things have their lifespan and things die, but you also see how the things that die aid and help the continuation of the new life that comes. There’s a rejuvenation that happens that you’re kind of reminded of that you don’t always get that in the music business. Another thing about working outside is it gives a mind a chance to wander. It’s not thinking about all the things that we need to get done, and I’ve definitely had lyrics come to me – not fully formed in a song, but like, “Ooh, that’s a cool image,” and I’ll jot it down and it will maybe become part of a song down the road. It’s definitely a place of pausing in a way that gives the body some space. You can’t be in the garden and not be present.

Megan: I do some teaching about gardening here in Yolo County, and everybody asks, “What’s your main advice for somebody who’s a beginner gardener?” I say, “Just learn how to be an observer. Learn how to see things that aren’t obvious. Learn how to hear things that aren’t in your face.” I think our music is definitely influenced by that. We have a line in one of our older songs that’s like, “You may not hear the first time, you have to listen twice,” and it’s about layering different pieces on top of other pieces to make this thing that’s bigger than the sum of its parts. Each song is a story, but it’s also the layering of the arrangements, the harmonies, why we use the harmonies, where we use them. I think that’s very influenced by our experiences with the natural world.

When we first started doing the album, I had a long-time idea that I really wanted to introduce some natural sounds onto the album as sort of palette cleansers in between pieces. Because Sam’s our songwriter, and I am sort of an arranger – that’s my job with the duo. And my feeling was the songs themselves are so delightfully different. None of his songs sound the same, which I love. And so on the album, I wanted there to be few moments of peaceful procession between songs so that you could clear your head for a minute before you heard the next song. There are three interludes, one is a bird song recording of a Fox Sparrow my dad made, and then at the end of the album there’s also crickets, and if you listen in your headphones or earbuds or whatever, you can hear a distant siren. … It wasn’t that we set out to do it from the beginning, but the title of the album reflects on those natural sounds – even that siren. It’s all song. Everything we experience is, in a way, music.

Photo Credit: Giant Eye Photography