Laying It All on the Line: An Interview with David Ramirez

With his fantastic new album, Fables, singer/songwriter David Ramirez breaks a three-year hiatus that was not of his choosing. He'd been on the road pretty consistently for years — traveling some 260,000 miles on his own — when a writer's block crashed the system. Like all the finest poets and philosophers before him, Ramirez dove deep into the pool of self-reflection to figure out what was happening. He emerged with what is, perhaps, his finest record to date … along with a whole new outlook on life, love, and the pursuit of happiness.

It was three years between records for you. How did you fill the down time? Were there any panic attacks involved?

Yeah, there were … quite a few, actually. Songs weren't coming. Tours were light. I wasn't doing too well, there, for a bit. I actually did book some studio time in that period, but I just didn't feel right about it. I went in for a couple of days and nothing was feeling good to me. I'm not sure why. I think some of it had to do with that I was trying to chase commercial shit, trying to write music that would do well for radio or get me a great sync [license]. I kind of stopped writing what was natural. I think that was part of it.

And the gods of music said, “No, sir. You shall NOT!” [Laughs]

They did not allow me. [Laughs] No, they did not.

You're such a road dog, I'm curious about the interplay between the two sides of making music for you. In the past, did you make records that you knew you could tour solo? And, with Fables, did you know going in that you'd tour it with a band?

Not really. Even my past records have bands on them. I got some advice a while back to make the records you want to make. Don't make a record based off what you're going to play live. You can always change it up and have different arrangements. But, if you feel moved in a certain way, just do that.

Sounds like good advice.

Yeah, I think so.

Let's talk about alone-ness. You've said that you feel like touring alone for all those years was actually a “selfish way of living.” Explain yourself, sir.

I don't think it was a selfish way of living, but I think that it developed some selfishness in me. I don't think it's selfish to tour alone. I just think being alone for as long as I was … the world just kind of revolved around me in not a very good way. And I could see that playing into my relationships — not just romantically, but friendships, even. I'd just think about myself a lot. I think that had a lot to do with being alone for so long.

You were in your little Kia bubble.

Yeah, I was in my Kia bubble … waking up when I needed to, eating what I wanted, listening to what I wanted, having silence when I wanted. I don't think it was terrible for me. I think it was really great, but I definitely think it bred a lot of self-involvement, for sure.

Well, so many people are actually afraid of being thrown into that sort of situation even for a short time. Silence and alone-ness — they can't handle it, so they bounce from relationship to relationship.

Sure. Yeah.

Did you find there really was a lot for you to learn through that time and self-reflection?

Yeah. I think I did learn a lot. One of them was that I shouldn't be alone. [Laughs]

[Laughs] Because there are also things that can only be learned in relation to others.

Absolutely. Yeah. And I think community — just the general definition of community — is something that is lost on me and something that I'm still trying to figure out. I did learn a lot. I'm good at being alone. But the age-old saying that “No man is an island” is very true. I'm trying to work that into my life a little more, so it's been really great to be out with the boys. I still find myself … even with them, the tendencies kick in and I just want to take off and go do my own thing. We're working on it. [Laughs]

[Laughs] I was going to say … because I'm one, too … I would assume you'd have to be a bit of an introvert to pull off all those miles. Even so — at least for me — there's also a craving for community, like you were saying. Don't quite know how to get it or be a part of it, but you want it.

Yeah. Yeah. There's a craving. And I'm thrilled to be out with the boys. I really am. I have not had this much fun on the road in my entire life than this Fall.

And you're still able to carve out the space you need.

Oh, yeah. I take off to have a bite by myself or just walk down the street. It's not as extreme as it used to be, but … [Laughs] I am an introvert, for sure.

[Laughs] Riddle me this … As you start to pursue more fully authentic interactions with people, do you lay that out and inform the other person so that you both have a mutual understanding of, say, “I want this friendship to be XYZ” or whatever it is? Or is it enough just for you to show up in the way that you want to and see what happens?

Unfortunately — and I'm sure you know this — as much as you plan a relationship to be a certain way, it never really turns out that way. So I think it's been good for me to learn just, “Hey, let's do this thing. I'm going to work. You're going to work. And, whatever it turns out to be, let's let that happen.” Just getting older, I've tried to force a lot less in my life, just allowed nature to take its course. And that's not saying to just roll the dice. In life, there are definitely moments where intention is necessary. But I also love the subtleties of it, the natural progressions. So I try not to approach things with, “Hey, let's do it this way!” — outside of music. But in relationships, it's “I'll give my part. You give your part. And we'll let the rest just play out.” I think that's the wiser way to approach it all, honestly.

Does that same philosophy carry over to your relationships with your fans? How's that level of engagement going?

That one's different for me, actually. I think …. goodness … I'm a fan of music, as well. I go to shows and I listen to artists. I buy records and I want to be moved. If I were to approach my heroes with my own agenda, I would not be the person who I am today.

I only know me. I don't know things outside of me and it takes other people to present those ideas or thoughts or feelings for me to be moved. I think, as fans of music or art, in general, we have to be open to the artist's mind. Otherwise, we're just going to be the same person and I don't want to be the same person. I want to be changed constantly. So I bring that same approach when I'm the one behind the microphone. I'm not going to give you what you want. If you are a fan of me, then I hope that you trust me to take you some place really great or to make you feel something that you haven't before. I want to do that.

It's interesting. For the longest time, people were like, “I prefer him solo. I don't like him with the band.” I wrestled with that for a long time and was like, “Alright, fine. Okay. I'll just be solo.” But then it was, “What am I doing?!” Creatively, I want a band. I want to see these colors and I want to have these dynamics. I want some energy, want to move around on stage. So why am I not giving people that? I think artist-to-audience is a different relationship, for sure, than a friendship.

Sure. Yeah. I talked to Jason Isbell a few months ago and one of the things we discussed was laying it all on the line — the demons and everything. He said he has to do that because the people who show up need to know who he is and understand him on a certain level. Because, if he were writing songs, but keeping his process and his life to himself, he wouldn't be an honest broker.

Yeah. I was having a conversation not too long ago about the same thing. No one's compelled by half the truth. You're only compelled by the whole truth. Whenever you can put it all out there, that's when people really change. And not just the audience — that's when I change, when I'm able to look myself in the mirror. I don't know Jason but, just based off his work, I'm sure he looks himself in the mirror and has to face that pencil and paper and really find out who he is. So, yeah. We're not compelled by half the truth. We have to put it all out there.

Which is why those half-truth songs weren't working for you.

That's right. That's absolutely right.


Photo credit: Greg Giannukos

3×3: Jerry Douglas on the Beatles, the Boogie, and the Mystery of Vanilla

Artist: Jerry Douglas
Hometown: Nashville, TN
Latest Album: The Earls of Leicester, Three Bells
Nicknames: Flux, Uncle Flux (Earls of Leicester), Uncle Jez (Mumford and Sons)

 

Boston, we are here!

A photo posted by Earls of Leicester (@earlsofl) on

What was the first record you ever bought with your own money?
The Beatles' Penny Lane. Gave it to my girlfriend, Charlene Ryan, in third grade.

If money were no object, where would you live and what would you do?
I would live in the Scottish Highlands and be a Bots Dots inspector.

If your life were a movie, which songs would be on the soundtrack?
1. "Hello Stranger" (Carter Family)
2. "Pop-a-Top (Again)"  (Jim Ed Brown)
3. "'Til the End of the World Rolls Round" (Flatt & Scruggs)

 

Set list from today at Floyd Fest. Thank you for all who came out!

A photo posted by Earls of Leicester (@earlsofl) on

What brand of jeans do you wear?
Levi's

What's your go-to karaoke tune?
"I Love the Night Life (I Want to Boogie)"

What's your favorite season?
Autumn

Kimmel or Fallon?
Fallon

Jason Isbell or Sturgill Simpson?
Isbell

Chocolate or vanilla?
Chocolate — even though sometimes vanilla is very mysterious.

3×3: Rachael Yamagata on Woodstock, Sturgill, and Her Fear of Karaoke

Artist: Rachael Yamagata
Hometown: Arlington, VA
Latest Album: Chesapeake
Nicknames: Yams

 

Amsterdam this morning

A photo posted by Rachael Yamagata (@rachaelyamagata) on

What was the first record you ever bought with your own money?
It was a single actually — Aerosmith's "Love in an Elevator."

If money were no object, where would you live and what would you do?
I’d split houses between Woodstock (where I live and love already), the Dominican Republic, and somewhere in Europe — Paris or somewhere in Tuscany, perhaps? I’d set up little studios in each and keep recording, but I’d also love to travel and do something physical while volunteering — e.g. building houses…

If your life were a movie, which songs would be on the soundtrack?
Ha! Who knows? I think it’d be an instrumental soundtrack. Maybe The Prince of Tides meets The Notebook meets anything by Danny Elfman.

 

Yes

A photo posted by Rachael Yamagata (@rachaelyamagata) on

What brand of jeans do you wear?
No clue. It’s all about the fit.

What's your go-to karaoke tune?
Karaoke scares the shit out of me, actually. I watch.

What's your favorite season?
The Fall

 

you complete me. First show tonight #pittsburgh, then #chicago and #minneapolis #denver

A photo posted by Rachael Yamagata (@rachaelyamagata) on

Kimmel or Fallon?
Both, for different moods.

Jason Isbell or Sturgill Simpson?
I think Jason Isbell is great. I don’t know Sturgill well, so now I’ve got a new artist to check out. Thanks!

Chocolate or vanilla?
Butter pecan


Top photo credit: Laura Crosta

12 Great Moments from Jason Isbell at Ryman Auditorium

As a songwriter, guitar player, and band leader, Jason Isbell is so talented, it’s almost ridiculous. He’s also one of the nicest, most humble guys in the business. And all of those qualities came into sharp focus last night at the third of four sold-out Ryman Auditorium shows. Isbell’s poetry and playing are graceful and thoughtful — no grimaces, no poses, no pretense. He just does what he does, in one of the most hallowed rooms in the country and surrounded by some of the best players in town — Amanda Shires (fiddle), Derry DeBorja (keys), Chad Gamble (drums), Jimbo Hart (bass), and Sadler Vaden (guitar).

Because writing a review of the evening would never capture its magic, here are 12 of the most special moments of the performance:

  1. The fact that he played Something More Than Free from top-to-bottom for the first (and probably last) time ever, took a short break, and came back to play some more “rock ‘n’ roll songs.”
  2. The way Shires looked at him during “Flagship” when they hit the line “Baby, let’s not ever get that way …” and, then, the way Isbell looked at her when he got to “volunteer to lose touch with the world and focus on one solitary girl.”
  3. The fact that Isbell wore sneakers on Sunday night after trying boots on Friday and Saturday. He explained that the floor at center stage was awfully worn down and slippery: “If I gotta fall down, I wanna fall down because Hank Williams and Johnny Cash raised too much hell.” He chuckled, then added, “I’ve fallen down for much worse reasons than that.”
  4. The tremendous musical ending of “Children of Children,” from the echoing snare hit on out. (It’s even more powerful live than on the record.)
  5. Every solo section after that — “Decoration Day,” “Flying Over Water,” “Never Gonna Change,” “Danko / Manuel” — particularly when Isbell, Vaden, and Shires swapped runs.
  6. “Cover Me Up.” (Good grief, what a perfect song.)
  7. The fact that Isbell’s dad was in the audience to receive his dedication of “Outfit” and the crowd sang along right from the start.
  8. The sight of Isbell and Shires walking off stage with their arms around each other.
  9. “Elephant.” (See “Cover Me Up.”)
  10. The way Vaden stepped to the side of the stage to give Isbell all the psychic space he needed for his slide solo on “Danko / Manuel” before easing back in to add to the glory of it all.
  11. The playfulness of Shires and DeBorja during “Codeine” — the two of them giggling and standing back-to-back to share a mic on the choruses; him showing off his accordion by stepping to the edge of the stage; and her staring deadpan at Isbell as she plucked her fiddle in response to the line, “If there’s two things that I hate, it’s having to cook and trying to date.”
  12. The fact that the show went a good 15 minutes past curfew and no one — band included — seemed ready for it to end.
  13. BONUS: The fact that Alynnda Segarra never once tuned her acoustic guitar during Hurray for the Riff Raff’s opening set.

Watch Jason Isbell and Sturgill Simpson Cover “Amarillo Highway”

If you've ever dreamed of seeing Jason Isbell and Sturgill Simpson perform together, you're in luck. The two took the stage together in Tuscaloosa last night for a cover of Terry Allen's "Amarillo Highway," and the results are pretty rad. Watch the performance below.

Other Roots Music News:

Rolling Stone talks to Tom Hiddleston about becoming Hank Williams. 

• Preview a new track from Flatt Lonesome at Bluegrass Today

• Oh Pep! stopped by NPR for a Tiny Desk Concert

• Bruce Springsteen's The River is getting the ultimate box set treatment

• Father John Misty performed a couple tunes on Jimmy Kimmel Live!

• Natalie Prass covered a Slayer song for A.V. Undercover

Watch Chris Stapleton Perform “Nobody to Blame” on The Late Show

Stephen Colbert is early in his tenure as the new host of The Late Show, but he's already had some impressive musical guests. Perhaps the best so far has been Chris Stapleton, who took to Colbert's stage to play "Nobody to Blame" off his excellent recent album Traveller. Watch it below.

Other Roots Music News:

• We normally don't cover prog rock, but we'll make an exception in the case of THE POPE

• ICYMI: Father John Misty is a strange, amazing man

• Bob Dylan is releasing a ginormous box set

• Read Nashville Scene's cover story on Jason Isbell. 

• Rhiannon Giddens, Patty Griffin and Shakey Graves… how's that for a conversation trio

Danny Barnes won the Steve Martin Prize for Excellence in Banjo and Bluegrass. 

 

Walking the Floor: Chris Shiflett Talks to Patterson Hood

As the Foo Fighters' guitarist, Chris Shiflett rocks … a lot. To add a little country swagger to his repertoire, he also fronts the Dead Peasants. Shiflett's Walking the Floor podcast is where those two worlds collide. Since late 2013, Shiflett has hosted bi-monthly interviews with everyone from John Doe and Mike Ness to Merle Haggard and Sturgill Simpson. 

On this week's episode, Shiflett chats with Drive-By Truckers co-founder Patterson Hood about the band's evolution over the years, including its rebuilding in the post-Jason Isbell era. Of the stripped down tour the Truckers did earlier this year, Hood says, "It's fun to go out and do it without all the baggage of having to do it for some negative reason. We're at the absolute pinnacle, best time of our band's history. The line-up is killer. Everybody gets along great. We're having a good time."

Watch Ashley Monroe Perform on ‘Conan’

Ashley Monroe performed "I Buried Your Love Alive," a killer new track from her recently released album The Blade, on Conan. You can watch the kick-ass performance below.

Other Roots Music News:

Rolling Stone has a stream of an unreleased Andrew Combs track, "Part Time Lovers (Full Time Fools)." 

• Grizzly Bear's Ed Droste had to quit Twitter after suffering harassment at the hands of angry Taylor Swift fans. 

• Langhorne Slim also stopped by Conan to perform "Strangers."

NPR's latest list of tunes in heavy rotation include BGS favorites Kasey Chambers and Humming House. 

Folk Alley has a new session with Charlie Parr. 

• Jason Isbell performed "Desperadoes Waiting on a Train" on Austin City Limits.

Get Your First Look at Tom Hiddleston as Hank Williams

The above photo, shot by Alan Markfield, is your first look at Tom Hiddleston as Hank Williams in the biopic I Saw the Light, coming to theaters November 27. Read more about the film and its release at Entertainment Weekly.

Other Roots Music News:

• Dolly Parton and Jennifer Nettles gave Rolling Stone Country the lowdown on the Coat of Many Colors movie. 

• Jason Isbell performed "24 Frames" on Conan.

• ICYMI: IBMA announced their 2015 awards nominees. 

• In other Dolly news, Curbed explores how Dolly Parton's childhood home became Dollywood. 

• Wilco brought Jenny Lewis and Ben Gibbard on stage for a performance of "California Stars" at a recent show in Washington.

Between the Lines: ‘Elephant’

She said, “Andy, you're better than your past. So you gotta just let it go. Regret doesn't do any of us any good, no way.”

She'd always been so good to me, even when I didn't deserve it. Somehow, she knew my heart was in the right place and she winked at me with that knowing … just in case I'd forgot. Then she drained her glass, waving off the bartender who stepped over to pour another round. She was sitting cross-legged on a barstool, like nobody sits anymore. Like an ingenue in a '50s movie or a showgirl in a saloon. She was a little bit of both.

She said, “Andy, you're taking me home,” as she shoved her arms into her jacket sleeves, wrapped her scarf around her neck, and glanced around the room taking it all in. But I knew she planned to sleep alone. She liked having me close by, but she needed the solitude of the night. Nights are the hardest. That's when it all comes down on her. She just lies there, with silent teardrops slowly tracing the edges of her cheek until they find the pillow. She thinks I don't know. And it's better that way. Sometimes, she gets confused and forgets where she is. She'll wander out with hazy eyes to find me on the sofa and get her bearings. I sleep pretty light, and I'll wake up to find her staring at me, swallowed by the nightgown that once fit her frame so well. That's when I'd carry her back to bed, tuck the blanket all around, and sit on the edge until she's back to sleep. Then, sometimes, I have to sweep up the hair from her floor. That's not something anybody should wake up to.

If I'd fucked her before she got sick, I'd never hear the end of it. We've always loved each other. Just never like that. I think we wanted to. Maybe even tried to. But we just never got it right. And she don't have the spirit for that now. She don't have the spirit for much of anything now. She tries to summon it. For me. For others. Most of the time, we just drink our drinks and laugh out loud at whatever stupid something one of us can come up with. We tell each other stories about the old days some. And we bitch about the weekend crowd some. Mostly, though, we just try to ignore the elephant … somehow … however we can.

She said, “Andy, you crack me up,” when I reminded her about how crazy she was for that kid Travis when we were in high school. God, she was a beauty back then. Even now, with her Seagrams in a coffee cup, sharecropper eyes, and hair almost all gone, she's still a wonder to behold … if you want to see it. I see it. When she was drunk she made cancer jokes, even made up her own doctor's notes a couple times. Anything she could do to distract herself and everyone around her. And there were a lot of folks around her, but nobody really with her. I tried to be, as much as she'd let me. She was surrounded by her family, but I still saw that she was dying alone. Because nobody ever knows what to say or do. Death coming at you is just like that, I guess.

Before, when she wasn't so sick, I'd sing her classic country songs. She'd get high and sing along. We'd belt the hell out of “Jackson,” just like we were Johnny and June come on back to life. She don't have a voice to sing with now, but she sometimes asks me for a little Townes or maybe some Prine. So I give her that. I sing her right to sleep when she wants. It's like we burn these joints in effigy … dream about who we might've been and cry about what we used to be. We had a good run. That's for damn sure. Better than most. She doesn't want me to have any regrets, but I do. Every time I look at her. I say I'm sorry all the time. Just not out loud. She doesn't want to hear it.

In my mind, I buried her a thousand times, so when the day came it was already a memory. A bunch of folks came out to say goodbye and I ended up giving up my place in line. But I don't give a damn about that now. I took my time with her before she left. And I made sure I was there for every minute of it. Especially the minutes when we'd just sit together, not saying nothing. There really wasn't anything needed to be said, no way. We both knew.

Everybody's gone now and I have her back. It's just us and a bottle and our songs under a sky full of stars. After all she went through, the pain and the tears and the not-knowing, there's one thing that's real clear to me: No one dies with dignity. It's a hard, hard thing to see a bag of bones lying there in place of someone you love so much. But that's all it is. The rest is up to us to keep alive. Them? They're off chasing stars … flying around faster than music. That's where I find her now. In those songs. Right where she's always been.

Based on the song "Elephant" by Jason Isbell. Photo credit: Robb North / Foter / CC BY.