Tag: Ed Helms

They always say, “Don’t meet your heroes,” but in the bluegrass world, I’ve mostly found that not to be true. Take Steve Martin & Alison Brown, for instance – two of the most recognizable and veritable banjo players alive today. Earlier this year, I was fortunate enough to join them (along with Rhiannon Giddens and a formidable lineup of bluegrass, folk, and old-time musicians) onstage at the legendary Hollywood Bowl. It was a night I’ll never forget.

And earlier this month, I had the pleasure of rejoining Steve and Alison in conversation about their new collaborative project, Safe, Sensible and Sane, (out now via Compass Records). It’s a beautiful album filled with original songs, guest appearances from musical friends, and a whole lot of banjos.

Hope you enjoy our conversation!

Ed Helms: First of all, let me just say huge congratulations. An album like this is such a big undertaking and this is phenomenal. I’ve been listening to it basically on a loop for the last couple of days. And my family, my kids are loving it.

Steve Martin: Thanks. Thank you. It’s not easy to rope the family in.

I know! My four- and seven-year-old are extremely critical of anything banjo-related. You won them over.

SM: Awesome.

Right off the bat, what jumps out at me about this album is the title – which immediately strikes me as a kind of direct counterbalance or maybe even a rebuke of these unsafe, nonsensical, and totally insane times that we’re living in. I do think that the album title sets such a warm, funny, and welcoming tone that the music then totally delivers on. Am I getting close?

SM: You’re so far. [All laugh]

Tell me what it is. Walk me through.

SM: I’m almost embarrassed to tell you. Alison, should we confess?

Alison Brown: You told us never to tell, but it’s up to you. [Laughter]

SM: When Alison and I were writing songs together, I had come across a book published in the 1930s on how to improve your letter writing. 80 years old, 90 years old, and it had a list of phrases you can use in your letter writing or business letter writing to brighten up your letters. It said things that are formal phrases, like “thank you for the frank statement of your affairs.” And it went on, things like that.

One of them was “safe, sensible and sane.” I just listed these suggestions and I wrote Alison and said, “I think there’s song lyrics in here somewhere.” Alison organized it, so they kind of rhyme, then Alison wrote this tune for it, and Jason Mraz made sense of it. Because the lyrics are actually nonsense, we have noted that the more we listen to it they actually start to make sense in some way.

That is wild. That is such a weirdly specific rabbit hole of where that came from.

Is the banjo itself something that feels safe, sensible, and sane to each of you in some way? Is it a place of home?

AB: For sure. I think so, certainly speaking for myself. It’s definitely been an anchor for me in my life and I noticed, Steve, watching your documentary, how many scenes the banjo was in the background and realizing that it’s been trailing you your whole life, too.

SM: Yeah. I find you’re right, in the sense that it’s not a “dangerous” instrument like the guitar, sure. Which can be naughty. The banjo is safe, sensible, and sane – but the way Alison plays and the way these great banjo [players] turn it into a kind of extraordinary jazz instrument. It’s too bad that most people probably have an idea of what the banjo sounds like and they’re way off.

I think what you’re saying is that the banjo can be edgy.

AB: it can be edgy, but it can be mainstream, palatable at the same time.

SM: Edgy in the sense of avant-garde, yes. There are some. Didn’t you write a 12-tone banjo song, Alison?

AB: I did. I had a chance to produce and play on a track called “Old Atonal Music” and I actually wrote a 12-tone row banjo solo, which–

Oh my gosh.

AB: Which was then analyzed by the classical community. And fortunately it really was a 12-tone row, so that’s about as edgy as you get.

That’s getting out there.

AB: Boy, are we.

This just got so nerdy so fast.

AB: It sure did. I knew that was gonna happen.

The last time I saw you guys, we had the incredible privilege of joining Rhiannon Giddens at her show at the Hollywood Bowl, and I remember showing up to rehearsal for that and you guys were working on what I thought was just “Cluck Old Hen.” I’m watching you and listening and thinking, “What are these lyrics? What is this? This is so funny.”

Of course, now I know that’s “New Cluck Old Hen,” which is on the album. But what I observed that day in the rehearsal stages was just the rapport that you guys share, which seems so easy and effortless, light, fun, and playful – and well earned. It makes me very curious about the origin of your friendship and was it music immediately? Where did you first connect and what was it you saw in each other?

SM: Go, Alison.

AB: Okay, we were on a Caribbean island at the same time by chance, really just by luck. It was a place that we both vacation regularly with our families and I knew we were gonna be down there at the same time that Steve was gonna be down there. We were gonna overlap for a couple of days and Steve suggested we get together for lunch. Of course, banjos had to be involved, so we had a really wonderful lunch and then sat and spent the afternoon playing banjo together, just sonically clicked really easily.

Because Steve and I both really love finding beautiful melodies in the instrument, we’re both in the same pursuit when we’re playing and composing music. Writing this music, it’s been surprising to me how easy it’s been. It is almost like the tunes were just waiting to be written and we just had to pull them outta the sky.

How long ago was that first connection?

AB: I would say maybe about 10 years ago.

Then was it right away, “Let’s start collaborating!” Or did you guys circle back to each other?

AB: It took me a little while to get up the nerve to see if Steve actually would co-write some music together. [Laughs] I got a chance to do a few shows with Steve and Marty [Short] when the Steep Canyon rangers weren’t able to make shows, so we got a chance to jam some more backstage and play some more clawhammer banjo and three-finger banjo, which is my favorite combination. Like chocolate and peanut butter. Clawhammer and three-finger.

I totally agree. It’s so beautiful. And there are a lot of great players that do both, but usually I think most people assume that a song is in an old-time style or in a sort of three-finger style. So to hear [you] two just beautifully mixed together, you guys are really sharing a language that transcends the style of playing. You’re playing very differently, but there is a fluidness.

I think the song “Evening Star,” which might be my favorite on the album, is such a great example of that, starting out with your three-finger, beautiful lilting rolls and melodic runs. Then Steve comes in picking up the same tune in a [clawhammer] style that feels like a really even, woven-in feel. It doesn’t change the feeling of the song in any way. I think that’s a testament to the connection that you guys share musically.

SM: Our roots and love of the banjo are very similar in the sense of Appalachian sound, the Celtic sound, the modal mountain sound. That’s what gets me. We both like to find those melodies that reside within those tunings and history.

And Alison, as I recall, you sent me this beautiful part and I contributed another part and then Alison found– You can tell the story. You found yourself in Dublin?

AB: Yeah, actually that one, I knew that we were gonna be in Glasgow. I dunno if you have ever become acquainted with the music of John McSherry, Mike McGoldrick, and John Doyle, they have a fabulous trio. They’re completely badass Irish players, Celtic players and I knew that it would sound great to play this tune with them. John Doyle in particular, when he plays rhythm guitar, it’s like riding a big wave. They’re also heroes.

SM: They’re heroes of mine, too.

AB: It’s funny, though, because the genesis of that tune was really Steve telling me about a song he wrote called “Canadian Girl” where he was playing clawhammer in 3/4 time. I’d never even thought about the clawhammer playing in 3/4. But it’s so beautiful. Then I tried to write a melody that could work for both.

I think it’s a real testament to Steve’s banjo playing, too – like you were saying, a lot of banjo players will choose a lane. They’re either three-finger or they’re clawhammer. But Steve’s really unique that he plays both. I think that’s part of the reason why our two banjos go so well together, ’cause he completely understands the three-finger thing. But when he’s playing clawhammer, he brings some of that sensibility to it.

SM: You can also play the modality that you find in clawhammer on three-finger. I remember a song I found on a record recorded by Dick Weissman called “Trail Ridge Road” and it was played with picks, but it had this unique– I just call it modality. I’m sorry to keep using that word, but it had this minor sound that just kept rolling. I always loved it. I think that sound stuck with me forever. I even wrote him once to tell him that.

I think your song, “The Crow,” falls in that category, right?

SM: It is in double C. [It has] that drone sound, ’cause you have two strings tuned to the same note. Yeah, that does have a bit of that in there.

That was one of my favorite songs to learn. I found a transcription in a Banjo Newsletter and I was able to work it up and I love it. Another one of my all-time favorite tunes.

SM: Alison told me that banjo players like to play my songs because they’re easy. [All laugh]

How do you guys collaborate? Walk me through that process. Are you sending each other tracks and just saying, “Hey, here’s an idea.” A little melody or a catch or a hook, and then you’re building on it together? Or do you try to make sure you’re in the same space, just steeping the tea together?

SM: All of the above. Garry [West] and Alison flew out to California, where we spent like three, four days there just writing and recording. We got ideas, initial ideas for songs there. Then we started communicating by text and sending song ideas. It’s the new way to write things. It’s everything.

But we did meet and get that sound of two people together. You’re listening to the other player.

AB: That’s the thing, when I get a chance to sit around with Steve and just play, it always gives me more ideas for where we can take the banjo. Or gives me a new way of thinking about what he’s doing that maybe you could expand on. That’s really exciting. But technology’s totally been our friend, so we’ve done a lot of this by just swapping ideas back and forth and it’s amazing how efficiently you can do that.

How frustrating is it that Zoom, the latency of these video conferences, you can’t quite jam.

SM: You cannot play over the internet! You can’t play, you gotta bounce it back and forth.

That’s [why] I flew down to Nashville to record with Vince Gill, so it’d all be in the same room.

You mention flying down to Nashville to work with Vince and others. This album is so much more than just a double banjo album. It’s this grand collaboration. So many special guests, close friends of yours like Tim O’Brien, Aoife O’Donovan, Sarah Jarosz, Vince Gill, Jason Mraz, Jackson Browne, Jeff Hanna, the Indigo Girls – I’m from Georgia, so that’s a huge one for me. I love, love, love the Indigo Girls.

You two obviously have such a deep well of relationships and friendships throughout music. How did you decide who to rope in on these particular songs? What was that decision-making process like?

SM: I’ve said this before, I’m a talk singer. I sing like Robert Preston, The Music Man. I know Alison sings harmony, but she’s never presented herself as a lead singer, as I know. So we’re forced to find someone to sing these songs. A good example is the song “Michael,” which was written without anybody in mind. The lyrics to that are imperfect in the best sense, in a good sense. Sometimes they don’t quite scan out. Sometimes the rhyme is soft.

Alison was at an event with Aoife O’Donovan and said, “Hey, would you mind singing?” And [Aoife] just understood the song so perfectly. You just go, “Oh, that’s it!” There’s no need to look anywhere. She just really knew how to sing it. You’re looking for people who know how to sing these songs. Like Jason Mraz instantly understood “Safe, Sensible and Sane.” He knew that it was in some way humorous, that none of us could figure out why.

Both of those songs have a little international flair to them. “Michael” almost has a samba or Brazilian feel? And then “Statement Of Your Affairs” with Jason Mraz, is it like reggae?

SM: Is it reggae?

There’s something Caribbean there.

AB: It’s definitely Caribbean, yeah.

Really everything sprang from the banjo. The melody for “Michael,” I just wrote that chorus melody as a banjo tune and really could not fathom how you could do anything other than play a newgrass banjo tune with that melody. It was amazing that Steve could set words to it and then he developed this whole story. It was really fabulous.

SM: What I liked is Alison sent me the tune, I listened to it, and it inspired me to a situation, an atmosphere. And she said, “We can change those lines, some of those melodic lines, and shorten ’em.” I say no. That’s what you want, that unexpected line that extends too long or it forces the words to do something tricky. I really like that challenge.

I love your closing number, “Let’s Get Out of Here” [with] Sam Bush, who counts that one in. I’ve heard it said often that Sam Bush is the best drummer in bluegrass. He sets such a great, driving tempo and rhythm.

SM: I couldn’t play without the mandolin! I’d be all over the place, rhythmically.

AB: No, that’s true. There is nothing like Sam’s chop. When Stuart Duncan and I were teenagers, we were presidents of the “Sam Bush Chop Fan Club.” A super nerdy thing.

This is one for both of you. You’re both multifaceted, creative people. You move so effortlessly between different creative disciplines, collaborative contexts, different bands, different musicians, different media and art forms. Obviously, Steve with film and comedy and writing and performing. You’re also a passionate art collector. Alison, you have tremendous business acumen running Compass Records for so long with your husband.

This is a question as a fellow sort of striving, creative person: How do you balance all of it? I always wonder when I see people like you, is this something that you set aside and approach each discipline as a chunk? Or do you feel more like these are constantly interwoven? Is there a seamless overlap of your various disciplines and ideas and you’re just weaving in and out? Or is it more, “I do this for this time” and now, “It’s comedy time. I’m gonna work on this.” How do you break it down?

SM: Go ahead, Alison. I know my answer.

AB: Okay. So mine probably is less interesting, ’cause mine is kinda like that right brain versus left brain thing. I find that sometimes I’ll be doing just banjo for a stretch of time or music or producing a record or getting to go out and play shows. Other times, I’ll be behind the desk doing spreadsheets and financials – that kind of thing. In some kind of bizarre way, the two things inform each other.

I think for me, I spent so many years in school and got an MBA studying finance. I was an investment banker for a while, so there’s part of me that really enjoys doing all that and feels a responsibility to my mom and dad, too, that I do some of that stuff on some kind of regular basis. I have to look analytically at the music business. I think it helps me when I go in the studio to think about positioning a record – whether I’m producing or just writing my own stuff – positioning it for success, because I understand the challenges of the business landscape in a way that if I was just a banjo player, I wouldn’t understand.

Then when I get to go out and play, it’s like a complete relief just to be out and let your mind be a little bit more free. I know you can be structured and disciplined about creating, but it’s a completely different mindset to sit and look at financials than it is to have enough of an expansive view in your mind to be creative for a moment. But, somehow, the two things work together.

SM: I’ll give my answer. Most people have a job. They maybe, let’s say, go to work at nine and they come home at six – or sometimes they work [until] maybe seven or eight. And if they’re gonna do any extracurricular thing, like practice the banjo, they have to do it at night or on the weekend.

But I just wake up. I don’t have a job, so I can have breakfast and have an idea and go pick up my banjo and go play it. There’s a lot of time where you’re just really doing nothing, because you don’t have a job.

I think it really is that concept they used to apply to basketball players, “being in the zone.” Where you don’t have a sense of time. It’s just there and it’s either working or not. And it’s fun, especially at this age where my creative mind is more agile, where I’m not afraid to go other places or think of things. Ideas seem to come without as much angst, because it doesn’t have to be a success. It just has to be fun.

I know Alison hates hearing that. [All laugh]

AB: No, actually. I’m glad to hear that!

SM: The creative part of my life has become really fun. Whether I’m working with Alison or with Marty or live stage shows… or just dinners! Dinners will be fun.

That’s really beautiful and really inspiring and I’m really grateful to both of you for opening up a little bit and talking me through this. Congrats! This is a fantastic album. It’s a really wide pastiche of different ideas and feelings and vibes, and it all works together. So congrats and thank you.

SM: Thank you, Ed. It’s always great to talk with you. And you’re a great player, too. Don’t forget that!

Thanks, guys.

AB: I’m thinking what we need to do is a triple banjo thing!

SM: I’m up for it! We’ll figure it out.

AB: We’ll figure it out.

SM: Fifteen banjo strings. Can’t get enough. You can never have too many.