Blitzen Trapper Head All Across This Land

Since they came on the scene 15 years ago, Blitzen Trapper have made music that blends country and folk ideas with an arena rock attitude. Their newest album, All Across This Land, cuts a broad musical swath through American music, from Springsteen's Jersey to Michael Stanley's Midwest (with even a bit of Jolly Old England in the mix, too). 

You and the band are on road as we speak, right? Somewhere between Austin and Alabama?

Yep, that’s right.

Is it still fun being on the road?

Yeah, the shows are fun.

People are reacting enthusiastically?

Yeah, definitely.

I guess you could say you’re all across this land to promote All Across This Land. [Laughs]

Yeah, pretty much. [Laughs]

Did some of these songs get worked out on the road before they were recorded?

No, no. I wrote them all during a spell when we weren’t touring at all. I’m always trying to write songs, here and there. This is just the kind of group that I came up with, I liked, and they all kind of went together. It just kind of seemed like a record.

Are there bands that have influenced you over the years that were in the back of your mind when you were writing the songs?

I guess I wanted to give more of a kind of classic Americana approach. Older Americana, like Springsteen and Neil Young. Just kind of that eclectic guitar, rock, folk mixture.

“Let the Cards Fall” reminds me of Wilco. Tell me how that song came about.

That one is sort of hard to remember, honestly. I think I had the chorus first. That one has a very personal creative ethos to it. The chorus is kind of just me talking, you know? The verses are images from Oregon — all the wildness. The whole song just kind of came one day.

That one has images of Oregon, but it feels like you’re headed down the road somewhere in this lush, green part of Tennessee or something. That’s the way it sounds to me.

Lyrically, that whole first verse is about a forest fire coming your way.

I love the guitar and vocal textures in “Mystery and Wonder.” Tell me about that one, from a recording standpoint. How was it put together?

That one was initially acoustic guitar, bass, and drums. Then we layered on other guitars. The guitars in that one are pretty ambient. It’s straightforward, as far as that goes. There are keyboards and piano that comes in here and there. It wanted it to sound really lush and full.

I think the whole second side of the record has that sort of feel to it. The first side has got some nice textures; it kind of teases you. The second side gets real big and wall-of-sound-ish. “Nights Were Made for Love” reminds me of listening to the radio when I was a kid. Kid Leo on WMMS used to play Michael Stanley all the time, it kind of reminds me of that sort of thing.

Yeah, for sure.

The title cut has a glam-rock-ish edge to it. It reminds me a little bit of Edgar Winter during the 1970s, when he was really, really popular. [Laughs] How does that sound to you?

That one is more Thin Lizzy.

Thin Lizzy?

The guitar on it, yeah. The riffs and guitar on that are pretty great. I think that Joe Walsh was a big influence on that one.

Well, if you put Thin Lizzy and Joe Walsh together, you kind of have Edgar Winter. [Laughs]

Right, yeah.

At least when he was doing “Frankenstein” and when he was a popular artist, as opposed to when he was doing “Tobacco Road” and [Edgar Winter’s] White Trash and all that sort of business. Which songs, of the new ones, are the most fun to play on the road right now and why?

I think “Cadillac Road” and “Love Grow Cold” are pretty great live. And “Nights Were Made for Love,” those three are probably my favorites to play live.

Are you working in a lot of the older stuff with the newer stuff?

Oh, yeah.

Well, you’re coming to Portland at the end of November. Is that kind of a homecoming show for you?

Yeah, that’s the last show of the tour.

Are you going to go back out in the Spring and hit up other parts of the country?

Yeah, I think we’re going overseas in the Spring. We might do some smaller market stuff in the Spring, as well.


Photo by Jason Quigley

The Essential Crosby, Stills, and Nash (and sometimes Young) Playlist

At the heart of the matter lays this question: What of the venerable CSN (and sometimes Y) catalog can't be considered essential? They revolutionized the way contemporary music was presented — verifiably the first supergroup in a long line of supergroups (many of which, these days, aren't so super). They provided the soundtrack to free love and fervent revolution. They created the template for pretty much every songwriter who's ever gotten his folk on (especially those who like to use alternate tunings). The entire Déjà Vu album could be included in an essential playlist and no one would bark about it (so we pretty much did). How to choose?

Here's how: Grab the true essentials we can't live without ("Ohio," "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes"), add in the now immovable elements of the pop canon ("Teach Your Children," "Our House"), sprinkle in a few personal favorites (because we can), and argue about the rest ("You included 'Wasted on the Way' but not 'Pre-Road Dawns'?!" "You're an idiot: 'Just a Song Before I Go' is not essential.") We even threw in a tune we figure will piss off even the most passing of passing fans. You're gonna have to guess about that one.

Agree or disagree, we say this is the Essential Crosby, Stills, and Nash (and Sometimes Young) Playlist.


Photo of CSNY in concert (August '74) by Tony Morelli. Licensed under CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

Neil Young, ‘My New Robot’

Anyone ask for an Amazon Echo for Christmas this year? A Google Home for Chanukah? Some sort of talking toddler gadget that demands more batteries than the brain cells it burns? There was a time — long ago, maybe — where toys required imagination to walk around the room, and we opened a paper to find the movie section, not asked a speaker-like thing on the counter what time Rogue One is playing at the local theater. It's the age of automation, where Siri is a friend, friends are just on Facebook, and time — despite all these convincers that are supposed to help us reclaim it — never seems to allow us to spend any with our actual human, real-life friends.

"My life has been so lucky, the package is arrived," sings Neil Young on "My New Robot," off his Peace Trail LP. "I got my new robot, from Amazon dot com." The song starts as Young tends to do — with analog harmonica — and ends with computer chatter a la Radiohead's "Fitter Happier": There's a love story somewhere, but perhaps more with an object than a person. The line, these days, is surely thin. Peace Trail, written primarily in reaction to the Dakota Access Pipeline protests, is full of seething political rage. But "My New Robot," the last song of the collection, is almost silly in Young standards — it's about misguided attention, the emptiness of a programmable world, and a generation who no longer knows how to use their hands for anything but swiping and clicking. Before you "power on" this holiday, think twice about letting a computer dictate your own wishes. With 37 albums down, Young's advice is worth heeding. Real mothers are just as good as motherboards, afterall.

Squared Roots: Jane Siberry in Praise of Leonard Cohen

True songwriting heroes are a rare breed and, in roots music, a few names take up more space than all the others combined — names like Hank Williams, Woody Guthrie, Townes Van Zandt, Dolly Parton, Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, and John Prine. For artists on the darker end of the spectrum, from Jeff Buckley to Amanda Shires, Leonard Cohen would also make that list, if not top it, because of how Cohen's incredibly mystical and oddly majestic way with a pen burrowed its way deep into the souls of his listeners. For proof of how the song is often bigger than the singer, look no further than the power and proliferation of "Hallelujah," his best-known composition which has been covered by dozens of singers over the past few decades. Tenderness and thoughtfulness pervade Cohen's work, winding their way around and through his sometimes eccentric, always captivating perspectives.

One of the singer/songwriters who came up in the wake of Cohen is Jane Siberry. A fellow Canadian, Siberry has also blazed her own artistic trail littered with mysticism. Reaching back to songs like "Bound by the Beauty," "Love Is Everything," and "Calling All Angels" all the way through to her latest release, Angels Bend Closer, Siberry never shies away from life's big questions and contemplations. Rather, like Cohen, she pours herself into them, exploring every nook and cranny through song and serving as a docent for those willing to follow.

As folks have reminisced about him since his passing, it seems like almost everyone has a Leonard-related tale to tell … either a personal encounter or a meaningful musical moment. You taught yourself guitar with his songs, right?

Yes. When I was 16, I moved away from home. I had played piano up til then. So I bought a cheap guitar and started learning from my sister's guitar songbooks. She had Leonard Cohen's, which had a very clear tablature. It even showed the rhythm of the finger-picking, which was fantastic and easy, so I learned to play his songs. The only songs I learned were from Songs of Leonard Cohen — “Sisters of Mercy” and “Suzanne” and all of those.

Did you have any interactions with him as you were coming up in music?

No, I didn't really. I just always really respected him, when I'd hear him speak in public. I think we met once or twice.

What do you think it was that made him not just so great, but also so special?

What's the difference?

Well, I think there are great artists, but there are also ones who are really special in terms of who they are and how they affect people. To me, it seems like many of the ones we've lost this year — David Bowie, Prince, Sharon Jones, and Leonard Cohen — they were all both great and special. And I think their passings have hit people especially hard. Does that make sense?

Yeah. I think it's pretty simple. It's not just about being great. We love them. We love ourselves through them.

In addition to both being Canadian, you are both more than just musicians. Authors, poets, performance artists … was he a bit of a role model for you?

I've never liked the term “performance artist,” but “entertainer” …

Got it.

A role model, as a musician, yes. I really thought he was underrated as a musician. I found his chord changes really beautiful and his phrasing beautiful. I think there's a similarity in what we draw from in the musical atmosphere, in that some people say he used a lot of “church chord changes.” That really isn't what it is. It's that there's a completion at the end of the song or at the end of choruses, like Irish folk songs. Like “The Water's Wide,” I think a lot of people would call it “churchy” in the way that the chorus lifts and the way you're allowed to draw out the end like a soft touch on a cheek when you say goodbye to someone.

There's also the similarity in that you both explore deeper emotional and spiritual themes in your songs. Neither of you are afraid of those. So, even a simple-sounding song isn't necessarily simple-minded. It feels like, to me, with both of you, that music is always sacred or has the potential to be. Is that maybe part of that church-sounding potential?

Most of the world, other than the First World, uses music as a way to pray. I think it's natural and organic. Drawn up from our primal selves. I consider music as one of the few ways to connect in a way that's meaningful to so many people. If it works on a lot of levels, it's generous and people can draw more from it — as much or as little as they want because it works on a lot of levels. To me, a good song should sound good, even if you don't know what it's about. It should feel good, whether it's the chording or the rhythm that you tap your fingers to. But, if you look deeper, it's also … I guess I'm saying that a song can be as rich as life is or humans are, if you want it to be. That's multi-purpose, so I guess that's why I said “generous,” if you're offering something in that way. I also consider humor as sacred. Those are the only two places where I go slightly bonkers. Humor and music are sacred to me.

Thinking of those layers of what a song can do … “Hallelujah” feels a perfect song. And not just due to its technical structure or melodic beauty, but also because it can be interpreted so differently depending on who is singing and who is listening.

Yeah. The first time I heard it, I loved that he was describing what he was doing musically — “the fourth, the fifth.” I thought, “Oh, yeah, that's how they do that. Amazing!” [Laughs] Then I started listening to the words … I remember being in Belfast and the opening guest was a choir from Belfast and they sang “Hallelujah.” They all had smiles on their faces. After I said, and I didn't mean to make people feel embarrassed, but I said, “That's the best version I've heard of a song about erotic requests and orgasm and its manifestation.” Because it is about that. And it's like, “WOW. You sing 'hallelujah' and it becomes” … [Laughs] He must have had a good laugh about that, too. Maybe people in the choir knew that and were having their own laugh about it, too. But it's very funny, I think, to hear a choir sing it with a smile on their face. [Laughs]

[Laughs] It was interesting to read up on the song. Different people who've done it have different interpretations of what it means to them. Jeff Buckley agrees with you, but k.d. lang has a slightly different take. But, I mean, he wrote more than 80 verses for the damn thing.

Did he?!

Yeah! Different people have picked different verses to sing and I think maybe the Jeff Buckley version has become a bit of a standard model.

That makes so much sense. I think that's the real way to operate as a musician. You offer different verses to different people and they make it their own. I think that's great. People get so precious about the right words. That's so cool.

I feel like your “Calling All Angels” is also a perfect song.

Someone took the publishing rights to “Suzanne,” so he never got money from it. But, later, his understanding was that that wasn't the kind of song he should ever benefit from monetarily. I see “Calling All Angels” the same way. But, every now and then, when it's in a film, I benefit from it, which I really like. [Laughs] But everything I make goes into more music.

I do feel like there's a constellation of musicians wherein our stars are a bit closer. And I feel that about me and Leonard Cohen and the people who influenced me when I was young, like Joni Mitchell and Neil Young — people I really trusted when they spoke to my 15-year-old ears. I trusted them. There was a connection.

I do connect with Leonard Cohen in that way. I know he talks about how everyone's “in service.” The first temptation is sort of getting the word “service” clear. It's not, “I'm gonna go out and fix the world.” It's more like, “I think I need to clean up my own backyard before I ever use the word 'service.'” I feel so lucky in my life. I always feel rich and that I need to give back. I want to spread the wealth, so to speak.


Jane Siberry photo by Sophia Canales. Leonard Cohen photo courtesy of the artist.

David Crosby: On Opening the Doors to the Muse

Throughout most of his time in the music industry, David Crosby’s name has usually been followed by at least two others, Stephen Stills and Graham Nash, and occasionally a third, Neil Young. Though the majority of his work has been with groups — be it CSN, CSNY, or even the Byrds — Crosby has ventured into solo territory on more than a few occasions. While his last solo effort, Croz (2014), had a full band backing the prolific songwriter, he returned in October with something markedly different, something that highlights what he’s capable of creating when all production falls away and it’s just a man and a microphone.

Crosby’s new Lighthouse harkens back to his first solo album, If Only I Could Remember My Name (1971), which is exactly what producer and collaborator Michael League (of GRAMMY Award-winning pop/jazz ensemble Snarky Puppy fame) thought they could achieve with this latest project. Recounting first approaching League, Crosby says with a calm, centered voice that becomes gravelly now and then, “I thought I would ask him to produce the record, and it would be like hiring a master craftsmen with a gigantic toolbox, namely his band, which are an unbelievable bunch of players.” But League had another idea. “I said that to him, and he said, ‘Well, no, actually. I really loved your first solo album, and the direction I’d really love to go is acoustic guitar and bass and vocals. I think we can make that kind of record.’ And I said, ‘Well, that’s right in my wheelhouse. I would love to do that. That sounds terrific.’”

It’s funny how life always has other plans in mind. John Lennon, perhaps, said it best in that regard.

Whereas If Only I Could Remember My Name exhibits a folk sound distinctly pinned to its time period — with bright guitar, meandering rhythms, and introspective lyrics engaged with the political activity of the 1970s — Lighthouse has a much different feel, even while it borrows from its predecessor. It’s as sparse as it is meditative. Built largely around Crosby’s voice and guitar, the instrumentation doesn’t get fluffy and the arrangements remain stripped down to the essentials. If a song need be loud in order to be visceral, Lighthouse instead proves the opposite to be true. Even though they are arguably quieter because of the soft melodic phrasing he builds around his contemplative thoughts, Crosby’s songwriting still resonates physically. Listening to them, one can’t help but feel a pang in the chest or a pull at the heartstrings, to borrow a worn phrase, even though that kind of reaction tends to follow from louder or more thickly arranged music.

Then there’s Crosby’s reflective songwriting — the ace he’s always held no matter for whom he’s writing — which oscillates between his family-first mindset to current events like the Syrian refugee crisis. The album begins with a love song directed toward Crosby’s wife Jan, “Things We Do For Love.” It’s a sentimental reflection about how deeply Crosby feels for her. Of course, having written about love in many different ways over the years, it’s naturally shifted with each passing album. How exactly? “There was at least one snotty egotistical answer there, but maybe I should try,” he chuckles, trying to answer the question seriously when his inclination is to be lighthearted. “I’ve gotten better at it, that’s what I was going to make a joke out of,” he continues. “It started out, when I wrote about love, I was writing about romantic love. And now, when I write about love, it’s family. Family gets to be really big for you later on in life. It really gets to be wonderful.” But he doesn’t draw a sharp line in the sand between romantic and familial love. “That particular song is romantic love, too,” Crosby adds, “because it’s to my wife and I feel very romantic about my wife.” So romantic, in fact, that his wedding ring served as the song’s primary percussive instrument, and took on a greater symbolic role as a result.

For a man who has experienced his share of personal and professional drama, ranging from health issues to a contentious public falling out with Graham Nash, Crosby understands family’s importance more than ever. “My wife and I have been together 40 years, and that’s an amazing thing in our world. Two of my ex-partners got into huge divorces last year in their 70s for Christ's sake, and I’m so glad I’m not driven to do that kind of thing,” he says, avoiding naming names and moving right back into his own matrimonial bliss. “It’s a joy, and it’s the only thing that’s as important as my music: my family.”

Besides singing about his personal life and the moments of joy he’s discovered there of late, Crosby’s political nature again arises on Lighthouse. He once said songwriters have a responsibility to play the part of town criers, those willing to call attention to something untoward going on in the greater social fabric. But getting people to pay attention when there’s so very much to pay attention to remains the larger question. “It’s very tough,” he admits. “Here’s the thing: You do feel the urge to do that town crier part of the job, but you can’t have that be all you do because your job is — even more than that — to make people boogie, and to make people feel stuff: Make ‘em wanna dance, make ‘em feel emotions, make ‘em feel the blues, make ‘em feel love, make ‘em feel triumph. And then, every once in a while, you can say, ‘Oh by the way, it’s 11:30 and all’s well, ‘ or ‘Oh by the way, it’s 11:30 and you’re electing that son of a bitch to be president?’ But if you do it all the time, then you turn yourself into a preacher, and nobody listens to preachers.”

Crosby doesn’t get preachy on Lighthouse, but the social activist does include two tracks focusing on contemporary affairs. “Somebody Other Than You” chastises politicians sending people off to war while protecting their own children, while “Look in Their Eyes” focuses on the Syrian refugee crisis. For a man as outspoken as Crosby has been on Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump, it seems like a missed opportunity to avoid taking aim, even obliquely, at a man exposing the racist underbelly still rampant in the U.S. It’s something he doesn’t remain silent about for long. “I’m surprised and very disturbed by it,” Crosby says of Trump’s popularity, not mincing his words about those who support him. “It’s an aberration, but it reveals how many people there are who are really almost illiterate or essentially quite stupid. Or they would not buy this guy. This guy can’t even control his face, let along his mouth. You can read everything he thinks right on his face. It’s very disturbing that there is that much ignorance and that much stupidity out there, that they can have a party of a whole candidate’s worth of people who don’t get it. It’s kind of shocking.”

Perhaps some kind of song about Trump will make it into his next album, which he’s working on with his son, James Raymond. “James and I are just about to finish it. It’s called Home Free, and we have it just about down.” That project will follow closely in Croz’s footsteps and include a full backing band.

At 75 years old and with over 50 years in the music industry, songwriting still brings the brightest color to Crosby’s world. “I don’t know how I got to here,” he admits, when discussing how the muse continues to choose him after all this time. He likens the moment to leaving all the doors and windows in a house open to catch a breeze. By remaining open to creativity, Crosby finds it continues to stop by for a chat, and he’s more than ready to listen. “I know that the music comes to me, and that it is a joyous process for me to make songs. I just love writing songs,” he says. “These are very visceral forces to me. I don’t really understand how come they’re so strong, but they’re there and I have to pay attention to them because it’s a gift I’ve been given and I don’t want to not use it.”

 

For another side of the coin, read Amanda's Artist of the Month feature on Graham Nash.


Lede illustration by Cat Ferraz.

3×3: Steve Gunn on Science Fiction, Favorite Clintons, and His Top Five Concerts

Artist: Steve Gunn
Hometown: New York via Lansdowne
Latest Album: Eyes on the Lines

 

Last day of EU run Nimes, France today. picby@swindler86

A photo posted by Steve Gunn (@stevegunnstevegunn) on

If you had to live the life of a character in a song, which song would you choose?
I’d have to go with "Ancient Jules" because I can see myself living in a basement one day. I’ll Invite the youngsters to come over to listen to some records and play guitars into the night, offering them somewhat far-fetched but sound advice.

Where would you most like to live or visit that you haven’t yet?
Japan

What was the last thing that made you really mad?
Losing my camera

 

time for a new set list I think :::::::: Hamburg::::::::::

A photo posted by Steve Gunn (@stevegunnstevegunn) on

What’s the best concert you’ve ever attended?
Hmm that’s hard. Here are five. Neil Young & Crazy Horse in Philadelphia a few years ago. Sun Ra Arkestra & Pharaoh Sanders just a few weeks ago in Brooklyn. Fugazi in the '90s. Bert Jansch in New York City, 2010. (I got to meet him also.) Jack Rose, everytime.

Who is your favorite Clinton — Hillary, Bill, or George?
George Clinton by a mile.

What are you reading right now?
Neuromancer by William Gibson — my first science fiction read.

Whiskey, Water, or Wine?
Wine

North or South?
North

Pizza or Tacos?
Pizza


Photo credit: Nathan Salsburg

3×3: Dead Winter Carpenters on Kentucky Cabins, Diverse Cultures, and the Perfection of Neil Young

Artist: Jenni Charles (of Dead Winter Carpenters)
Hometown: Tahoe City, CA
Latest Album: Washoe
Rejected Band Names: Sandpaper Mitten

 

Thank you Reno Airport for being kind to @dainesly #freerubdowns #feelinit #firstflytour #dwctour

A photo posted by Dead Winter Carpenters (@deadwintercarpenters) on

If you had to live the life of a character in a song, which song would you choose?
“My Rose of Old Kentucky” by Bill Monroe. It’s the perfect love song, in the perfect setting — a cabin on the hill somewhere in the hills of gorgeous Kentucky and forever love! Doesn’t everyone want that?

Where would you most like to live or visit that you haven't yet?
I’ve traveled almost every bit of the U.S. with Dead Winter Carpenters and it has been one of the most rewarding experiences in my life. Going from places like Montana to New Orleans really gives you a special insight into the diverse cultures, lifestyles, and landscapes that this country has to offer. The more I travel, the more I fall in love with new areas. Two of my favorites that I could see living in would be the Blue Ridge Mountains or New England. The next place I want to visit is India.

What was the last thing that made you really mad?
I can’t remember! Forget and move on!

 

Almost to @terrapinxroads after a beautiful drive up #highway1 #california #bayarea #californiacoast

A photo posted by Dead Winter Carpenters (@deadwintercarpenters) on

What's the best concert you've ever attended?
Neil Young with Promise of the Real at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley, California. It was my first show at that venue and my second time seeing Neil Young. The other time was in Montreal, Quebec, and that was holding the “all time” before this one.

What was your favorite grade in school?
First Grade! Mrs. Bronzini was the absolute best teacher ever.

What are you reading right now?
Massacre on the Merrimack. I’m related to Hannah Duston, and this book is about her story, and I figured I should probably read up on my ancestor’s history.

Whiskey, water, or wine?
Whiskey

North or South?
North Lake Tahoe!

Pizza or tacos?
Tacos. Hot sauce. Yum.

Squared Roots: Grant-Lee Phillips on the Ageless Spirit of Neil Young

The list of singer/songwriters who cite Neil Young at or near the top of their influences is overflowing with names … and with good reason. From his early Buffalo Springfield days on through his most recent solo efforts, the man has carved out a legacy that spans nearly 40 albums across six decades. Songs like “Tell Me Why,” “Down by the River,” “Heart of Gold,” “Rockin' in the Free World,” “Southern Man,” and countless others offer a master class in what it means and takes to be a songwriter of humbly epic proportions.

Grant-Lee Phillips proudly proffers his name to that lengthy list of Neil Young disciples. Having come of age, musically speaking, in a scene that included R.E.M., Robyn Hitchcock, the Pixies, and Bob Mould, Phillips has written his fair share of alt-rock anthems. Underneath that Sturm und Drang, though, has always been a lover of roots music, and Phillips lets that side of himself shine brightly on his latest release, The Narrows.

What's your favorite Neil Young era and why? He has so many different incarnations.

That's true. Goodness. I mean, I was exposed to Neil Young around the time I was maybe 14, 15, 16. I had a 45 of “Heart of Gold,” then I went and saw him when he came through the Bay Area on his Trans tour. He played the Cow Palace all by himself. That kind of opened up my mind. But I found that I instantly began to back-track. I got into the album Decade which was that great collection. Essentially, all of that stuff: After the Gold Rush, Harvest, Tonight's the Night … all of that stuff made the most lasting impression.

So, early era. I would say that's probably true for a lot of people.

Yeah. Now, that said, I was totally into Harvest Moon, as well. I love all of those songs, as well. He's one of those people I've been able to see over the years, to hear him play live and be on a few festival bills where I got to get really up close near the man.

Nice. He's stated his fondness for Elvis, Little Richard, Fats Domino, Jerry Lee Lewis, and a bunch of other early rock 'n' roll pioneers. In what ways do you hear those cats coming through his music?

Oh, wow.

[Laughs] Right? I'm not letting you off easy on this thing, man.

[Laughs] There's definitely a reverence for the roots of rock 'n' roll and all of that primitive, hot blood stuff you mentioned. I read somewhere that Link Wray was even a big influence. I think of that music as being the basic building blocks that inform everything that we consider to be rock 'n' roll today. So, yeah, all of those songs that pertained to dancing, that metaphor — “life as a dance” — I hear all of that kind of stuff merging in Neil Young.

I think what attracted me to his work is that it has all of the strengths of melody and the strengths of poetry, but it has this other element … the element of spirit. And that's really where he operates. He touches upon these feelings that are ageless. It doesn't matter that the songs are written or recorded 50-odd years ago or yesterday; it's pertinent today.

Along those lines, with his guitar playing, is there a technical aspect to what he does that you and so many others admire or is it all about the heart and guts of it?

Yeah, you hit upon it: It's the guts. [Laughs] Yeah. For him, there's a sense that there's a very short electrical nerve between his impulse and his hands. It goes beyond all the technique, beyond whatever knobs he turns to acquire such sounds. Just plug it in, turn it up, and let the emotion rush over you. The greatest musicians in the world … it doesn't matter how well-schooled or how many hours they've spent practicing in the mirror, they could learn something from Neil Young. [Laughs]

[Laughs] How would your music be different without Neil Young in the world?

I can't even imagine what my music would be like, if I hadn't been turned on to Neil Young. I don't know. It might suffer from too much head and not enough heart. There's music for all parts of the body. Some people make music that's appealing to the heavens. I feel like Van Morrison is like that. And some of it's meant to appeal to the butt region. [Laughs]

[Laughs] The lower, nether regions.

[Laughs] Yeah, yeah … the butt chakra.


Photo credit: kyonokyonokyono via Foter.com / CC BY.

To me, another part that's so appealing about him and is a huge part of his legacy is his activism — all the way from “Ohio” and other songs to his Bridge School Benefits and everything else he does. He walks the walk. Why is it important for artists to do that kind of work, both through their music and in their lives?

I don't necessarily draw a line between artists and every other civilian. I think it's important for all of us, no matter what we do in our lives, to be informed so that we can live with greater empathy and greater understanding and affect change where we need it. If you're an artist, then you have that opportunity to use your voice in such a way. But, yeah, I think it's imperative for all of us to do that, to have that kind of responsibility.

What I love about Neil Young is that he seems to take a flashlight to the human experience. Some of his songs, I couldn't tell you what they are about. It's like a dream that you're sharing. Then others are quite clearly drawn from a tragedy of a given experience, like “Ohio.” It's that whole gamut, the whole range of experience that we have here. On that note, politics needn't be left outside of the conversation. It doesn't have to be the entire conversation, but it certainly has a place.

Considering how many up-and-coming singer/songwriters cite him as an influence, who do you see coming up that seems to have the chops to go the distance he's gone?

Oh, wow. Goodness.

[Laughs] Totally putting you on the spot.

[Laughs] Yeah, it's an unfair question because most of my listening revolves around the same 10 records that I've been listening to for the last 40 years. [Laughs] But I feel like Gillian Welch is in that tradition, in a lot of ways. There's the obvious folk connection, but maybe in that maverick way of not being pinned down to whatever preconceived notion we have about what folk music is or what acoustic music is or what being a singer/songwriter is. You have to be willing to shed all of that in order to be true to your own voice.


Grant-Lee Phillips photo courtesy of the artist. Neil Young photo courtesy of Stoned59 via Foter.com / CC BY.