46 Years Later, Japan’s First Female Singer/Songwriter Reissues Her Debut

Being a “first” — a trailblazer, a pioneer, a renegade, an innovator — is an impossibly heavy mantle to take up. That being said, it’s not surprising that, when it is accurately applied, the term is almost never opted into or self-ascribed. It’s a fascination. A sort of voyeuristic moniker given by the media, by fans, by historians, by anyone who notices, or attempts to commodify, the importance of fresh offerings from new voices. In musical spaces, “firsts” tend to get more and more granular as they become more and more rare, necessitating countless modifiers and descriptors to lend accuracy to the idea that being on the edge, being an outlier in this way, is a selling point. Or, that it’s a merit in and of itself.

Guitarist, singer/songwriter, and performer Sachiko Kanenobu‘s claim to firstdom is no ball-and-chain, however. It is truly inconsequential to her — despite its legitimacy. And as for intricate modifiers? Just one. Kanenobu is considered Japan’s first female singer/songwriter. In an age when writers and artists alike are attempting to retire “female” as a pertinent adjective in music journalism, the designation does give pause. Though, 46 years after her debut album, Misora, was released in Japan, it’s important to remember that being a woman permitted to take up space — in these cultures that champion masculinity above all else, and in artistic spaces historically reserved for men — is still significant. And the circumstances that prohibited other women from going before Kanenobu were not that long ago. And not unique to Japan.

Misora is a stunning work. Singular in its musical aesthetic, its production values, its amalgamation of European pop stylings and folk revival influences, and most of all in the fact that despite being sung entirely in Japanese, the songs are shockingly accessible, evocative, and relatable. Reissued by Light in The Attic Records in July of this year, the album has followed Kanenobu through her decades living in the states, her forays into other genres and musical phenotypes with other bands and artists, and her absolute tirelessness as a songwriter and adept guitarist — even if she may not consider herself “a picker.” New generations of fans continually trip over and into this gorgeous record, and now, hopefully, countless others will have their eyes opened to this true masterpiece — and to a musician who deserves her place in the pantheon of folk singer/songwriter and guitarist greats.

Being designated as a “first” anything is kind of an enormous responsibility to bear. Do you see your role as one of Japan’s first women singer/songwriters in that way? How has it felt to blaze that trail? Or did it not feel like that at all?

Kanenobu: No, I don’t feel responsible, but it is exciting when I hear myself being referred to as the first Japanese woman singer/songwriter. I’m very grateful for the recognition. In the late 1960s there were no women who wrote their own songs and played guitar in Japan. I was the first one to do it on URC (Japan’s first independent record label). Thinking back, it felt good to be in that position. At that time, I was really young so I always wanted to be different from other musicians. I didn’t mind being the only woman doing what I was doing.

Part of why conversations about “firsts” can be stumbling blocks is because, often, these “firsts” are just examples of the first visible examples of X, Y, or Z. I wonder, are there artists, women or otherwise, that influenced you? That showed you there was a path forward for your music and your art? 

I grew up in a family (with three sisters and two brothers) that loved music and sang, which obviously had a big influence on me.

My oldest sister (18 year age difference between us) was a big star in Takarazuka, a famous woman’s theatre in Osaka, Japan where she performed in musicals such as The Sound of Music and The King and I. My mother would take me to all her performances. My second sister probably had the biggest influence on me as she played Western records (such as Bing Crosby, Dinah Shore, Doris Day, Nat King Cole, and others) in our house, loved classical music (Beethoven, Mozart, etc.), and also introduced me to some music coming out of France at the time. My third sister would also go onto to become a singer/songwriter. She wrote Enka Japanese country music and can play the piano even though she’s blind.

So, yes, my family was my biggest influence on my musical path.

At least stateside (but almost certainly pervasively, across the globe) general attitudes toward women in music often result in women being considered songwriters or singers before instrumentalists, but your guitar playing is clearly foundational to what you do — and so distinct. How did you develop your playing style, you are totally self-taught, yes? 

Yes, self-taught. One of my brothers learned how to play classical guitar and I would watch him play. Eventually, he got tired of playing so I asked him if I could borrow his guitar to try and teach myself to play. This was the beginning of my lifelong friendship with the guitar.

Later, during my high school years, my friend and I would sneak into the folk club on the campus of Kansai University. At that time American folk music was really popular among college students. Luckily, I met some great guitar players during that time who showed me how to fingerpick and play some simple chords.

Eventually I would meet film score composer Ichizo Seo, who introduced me to Donovan and The Pentangle, and I would try to copy their simpler songs, but it wasn’t easy so I would simplify the scale and created my own style. Even now I can’t tell you which chords I’m playing. I have to ask someone, “What chord am I playing?” I love Pentangle’s guitarists Bart Jansch and John Renbourn, who created a unique style with their duet guitar playing. Their playing still inspires me.

Do you find that people automatically consider you more of a singer or songwriter, rather than a picker? Or has your experience been different?

No one labeled me a guitar player back then and even I considered myself a singer/songwriter who used the guitar to create the tone first and the words would follow. It wasn’t until recently did I get the recognition as a guitarist and singer/songwriter.

This new recognition started when Misora first got reissued in Australia in 2006 by Guy Blackman of Chapter Records. Around that release the album started getting radio play in the Western world. Brian Tuner, former music director and DJ at New Jersey’s WFMU, was a big supporter. My first long-form radio interview for the Misora reissue was in 2007 with WFMU’s DJ Joe McGasko. At that time, it had been over ten years since I had performed any tracks off Misora but Joe took me seriously as an artist and encouraged me to start performing again. He had me on his show “Surface Noise” to perform four songs off Misora and two new songs. After that performance I started getting recognized as a guitarist and singer/songwriter, but before then I wasn’t confident enough to even consider myself “a picker.”

That WFMU performance was an amazing experience because it had been so long, that even I was really surprised that I had remembered all the guitar chords and lyrics off Misora. I remember thinking it was a miracle I pulled it off.

All of the tracks on Misora are sung in Japanese, but the music is still so accessible and immediate and touching, even with the language barrier. How do you accomplish that? Do you think that’s a product of the integrity of the music, or intention you put into writing and performing it, or something else? 

Thank you for that. I put a lot of my love and soul into Misora but I thought it was going to be my first and last album, because in the middle of recording it I made the decision to marry Paul Williams [music writer and founder of Crawdaddy Magazine] and leave Japan. Three songs from the album were written after I met Paul and when I’m in love songs pour out of me.

When I first heard The Beatles and Bob Dylan I didn’t understand the words but I totally connected with how they were expressing emotions. This feeling of connection and bringing people together was a goal of mind when making Misora.

Plus, the album was heavily influenced by the Japanese band Happy End and the melodies you hear were influenced by the Western music I grew up on… so seeing the music be reintroduced to Western youth is really nice for me.

In the time since blazing this trail, how has the scene for folk singer/songwriters — especially women — in Japan grown? What has excited you about the progress that’s been made?

I can’t really say, but I know that after I left Japan, I learned of so many singer/songwriters that became very famous in Japan such as Akiko Yano, Minako Yoshida, etc. and they were not afraid to express themselves. Friends have told me if I didn’t leave Japan after recording Misora it might have impacted the singer/songwriter scene there but I don’t know if that’s true.

Are there artists here, in the U.S. that you are listening to right now? Any that get your creative juices flowing?  

I listen to all kinds of music: folk, rock, country, world, classical, jazz, blues, space, and classic movie soundtracks.

Right now, I enjoy listening to Steve Gunn. I love his originality and guitar playing. Steve and I have become very good friends and his playing inspires me to play my guitar more. I love the creative sounds that he makes with his guitar. He has a lot of passion and love of playing; I can both see and hear it. He is a very calm solo performer that plays so naturally I can’t tell when the tuning ends and the song begins. He is one of my favorite musicians right now. He invited me to open for his Bay Area tour earlier this year. He and his band, plus James McNew from Yo La Tengo, backed me up as we performed at SummerStage in Central Park, and Union Pool in New York. I hope someday to perform again with Steve and make a record.

I also still love listening to Joe McGasko’s show “Surface Noise” because he brings interesting new and old artists on, which is how I was introduced to Steve Gunn.

I would love to collaborate again with Mr. Hosono Haroumi, who co-produced Misora.

What do you think are the biggest differences you’ve felt between the scene here, in the U.S., and that in Japan? 

Biggest differences are language and culture. There is more freedom of speech here in United States. People express themselves more openly and say things more directly. It can be seen in American music as well.  I have become more Californian than Japanese over the years, because I have lived in America much longer than in Japan.

Western culture and music influence each other, it is interesting how everything comes together. Music comes around full circle in Japan and America, Eastern and Western worlds vibrate. We influence each other. That is what is happening now and it’s a wonderful thing.

To wrap up, here’s the obligatory, “What’s next?” question: What’s next? This reissue of Misora, decades later, is such a testament to your longevity and your impact — how are you planning to take that further into the future? Are you? 

First, I’d like to say thank you to the label, Light in The Attic Records, who put out a beautiful reissue of Misora this year on vinyl and CD.

I’ve been performing Misora over the last two years and I just performed the whole album in Tokyo for the first time in 46 years since I left Japan. For that Tokyo performance I remixed some of the songs, adding and rearranging some parts. Someday, I would like to make a new version of Misora, applying some of the ideas Mr. Hosono and I couldn’t use in the original 1972 recording.

I’m still writing new songs, but putting out a new version of Misora would be so wonderful. I’m 71 years old now and I’m in the last chapter of my life so as long as I stay well I would love to continue performing for others. To my family, my dear old and new friends, and to Misora fans in the East and West, I love you all and I’m so thankful for your support and love.


Color photos: Yosuke Kitazawa
Black & white photo: Takashi Yamamoto

BGS 5+5: Steve Gunn

Artist: Steve Gunn
Hometown: Landsdown, Pennsylvania; currently Brooklyn, New York
Latest album: The Unseen in Between

Which artist has influenced you the most … and how?

One guitar player that has influenced me over the years has been guitarist Jack Rose. Sadly, Jack passed away too young, nine years ago, and I still think about him on a daily basis.

I first met Jack in Philadelphia in the late 1990s. I was just out of high school and getting serious about playing guitar. We both worked at place called the Reading Terminal Market, with Jack working at the coffee shop, and me at the ice cream stand. I would always walk over to the coffee shop when I had a break, and we would talk at length about various records and all things guitar related. I really looked up to Jack, and he was super generous with his knowledge of music to my young ears. I learned so much from those conversations.

He lost his job at the coffee shop suddenly for apparently not giving a cop a free cup of coffee, and immediately after that he started practicing acoustic guitar about five to eight hours a day. I witnessed the results of his woodshedding at a house show in Philadelphia shortly after that, and was completely astonished and inspired by his playing. Seeing his hard work pay off — and his demand for respect as a performer — was revelatory. Jack taught me how to practice. His willingness to share his guitar ideas, work ethic, and encouragement with my own playing has stayed with me.

What was the first moment that you knew you wanted to be a musician?

I think the first moment I wanted to be a musician is when I saw Prince play guitar in the film, Purple Rain. When I was young I was very enamored with pop music. I loved Michael Jackson, Madonna, Def Leppard, etc. I watched a lot of MTV and listened to a lot of radio. Music was always on in the house, car, basement, or garage. My parents played a lot of records from the ‘60s, and they also liked the ‘80s stuff a bit. At a pretty tender young age, I somehow was allowed to watch Purple Rain, or maybe I watched it at a friend’s house — I can’t remember. I do remember being astonished by this pop musician who could absolutely destroy on guitar. He also looked cool as hell and drove a purple motorcycle. It can’t be denied that he was the best. He’s still one of my favorites of any era.

What’s the toughest time you ever had writing a song?

I knew that I wanted to write a song as a tribute to my father, but it was hard to summon one during a pretty fragile and delicate time in my life. “Stonehurst Cowboy” from my new album, was emotionally exhausting to play and sing. The song is the deepest I’ve reflected on my own emotions since I started making records. It was a difficult, sentimental, but also very cathartic time to write.

The words came to me pretty quickly, but I had trouble singing it when it was first written. It’s an extremely personal song. I had to let my guard down for this one, it was almost as if I didn’t have a choice. It was a hard one to write, but I know I had to, and ultimately I’m very proud of it. My family and friends that knew him seem to really appreciate the tribute, which means a lot me.

What rituals do you have, either in the studio or before a show?

Trying to remain calm is important! Nerves can be the worst deterrent in performing and recording for me. I’ve been figuring out ways of dealing with this for years, and in many respects I have learned the hard way. For a performance, I do a few stretches and breathing exercises to calm down a bit. Often times, especially with performing, I like to have glass of wine before I go on stage. Warming up on the guitar itself really helps also. Strumming whatever random few chords allows me to connect myself to the instrument a bit better. For me it’s important to connect with my mind, telling my body that it’s time to get it together.

Since food and music go so well together, what is your dream pairing of a meal and a musician?

I’d like to grill some fish, eat oysters, and drink wine with Neil Young. We could have a few bottles of really nice wine, a bunch of salads, a few different types of fish and oysters. This meal would ideally be outside, just me and him. Maybe a few dogs. I’m thinking this could be somewhere in coastal California, obviously, right along some rocky ridge somewhere. We’d light a fire after the meal, I’d listen to his stories, and later strum some old 1930s Martins together. Sounds good, right?


Photo credit: Clay Benskin

MIXTAPE: Greg Vandy’s Post-Modern Americana

There’s an exciting new scene of American pickers rooted in tradition who identify more with experimentation and rock ’n’ roll than with simple revivalism. These 15 tracks are representative and songs that I’ve been playing on the radio for some time now. To me, it’s the new breed of roots music. Clearly not interested in genre labeling and especially cringe at the notion of “Americana,” these (mostly) young artists and bands seek the next frontier of American music by adding a new lyricism and psych elements to their music. As Laura Snapes described in a recent article in The Guardian, this “new cosmic Americana” scene contains “a web of fellow travellers recontextualizing American folk music.” What’s most interesting about these artists, and whatever scene they actually inhabit, is that they reject the present and it’s disconnectedness by looking to the past. Drawing inspiration and influence from what came before to create something timeless for now — referencing the old to make new. It’s really always been that way, I suppose. — Greg Vandy, The Roadhouse

Jack Rose — “Sunflower Blues”

The silent father figure to many of these artists, Jack Rose passed away of heart failure in 2009. He was 38. Considered to be our generation’s John Fahey, he was a monster player just beginning his ascent in mastering new interpretations of American traditional forms. This is his take on Fahey’s “Sunflower River Blues.”

Michael Chapman — “Fahey’s Flag”

Another influence to most of the younger players represented here, Chapman is a self-taught elder statesman with an innovative style that was too ahead of it’s time. He’s enjoying late success and more fan admiration than ever. Here is his tribute to Fahey.

Jake Xerxes Fussell — “Have You Ever Seen Peaches Growing on a Sweet Potato Vine?”

A true student of tradition who apprenticed and played with some real old-time greats, Jake’s bluesy folk tunes turn into vibey cosmic laments and crooked rambles. Jake Xerxes (yes, that’s his real middle name, after Georgia potter D.X. Gordy) grew up in Columbus, Georgia, son of Fred C. Fussell, a folklorist, curator, and photographer. This one is from his brand new record on leading North Carolina label, Paradise of Bachelors.

Steve Gunn — “Milly’s Garden”

Gunn is not interested in “Americana,” but instead processes his inspirations into a singular, virtuosic stream of lyrical guitar melody. Hands down, my favorite player who’s developed into a good singer who sounds a bit like Beck. Once in Kurt Vile’s band, the Violators, he produced Michael Chapman’s latest record, 50. This is from his 2014 masterpiece, Way Out Weather.

Luke Roberts — “Silver Chain”

A bit of a vagabond, Roberts started writing his album, Sunlit Cross, in Kenya. Referred to as “redemptive blues,” his music is wide in scope yet spare in structure. This song also features Kurt Vile on banjo.

Joan Shelley — “Brighter than the Blues”

A beautiful singer, Shelley has an ace-in-the-hole on this one: guitarist and curator of the Alan Lomax Archive, Nathan Salsburg. Together, they are magic. According to Catherine Irwin of Freakwater, “Joan lands on a note like a laser beam on a diamond. Colors fly around the room, and her voice bends between them. People say her voice reminds them of Sandy Denny. It’s more than the vocal range. It’s a quiet power that draws you in.” Will Oldham is also on the record.

Marisa Anderson — “Deep Gap”

Marisa Anderson channels the history of the guitar and stretches the boundaries of tradition. Her playing is fluid, emotional, and masterful. This instrumental is an example of how her compositions improvise and re-imagine the landscape of American music.

Ryley Walker — “The Roundabout”

Continuing his amazing development as both a player and singer, Walker’s clear British folk influences have grown into a more baroque folk style on his latest record, which is easily the best thing he’s ever done. Robert Plant is a fan.

Promised Land Sound — “Through the Seasons”

One of my favorite bands, PLS pit harmonies and distortion against meandering folk riffs, resulting in a sound that’s part Lauren Canyon, part gauzy Brit-rock — all held together by firm Tennessee roots. These guys are young and proof that there really is something happening in East Nashville, and it’s great.

William Tyler — “We Can’t Go Home Again” (Lost Colony EP version)

As an artist, guitarist, and producer, Tyler has collaborated with many of the artists mentioned here and is another Nashville cat. Tyler creates cathedral-like psychedelic hymns one minute and pastoral folk and blues melodies the next. A former member of several bands, including Lambchop and the Silver Jews.

Kacy & Clayton — “Seven Yellow Gypsies” 

Some of you may have heard these first-cousins on my KEXP radio show a few years back. Kacy & Clayton were first revealed to me when I was tipped by Ryan Boldt of Deep Dark Woods to check them at Folk Alliance in Toronto — “They’ll blow yer mind,” he texted. They were teenagers fully immersed in the British folk revival and, between Clayton’s precise playing and Kacy’s ethereal voice, I was, indeed, blowm away in that small hotel room. Now recording with a band and expanding their sound with more originals, the future is bright for these Saskatoonans. And, apparently, Jeff Tweedy is onto them. This one is from their latest album, Strange Country.

Itasca — “Buddy”

Itasca is the musical identity of Los Angeles-based guitarist, singer, and songwriter Kayla Cohen. She brings an airy but mysterious late-’60s/early-’70s psych-folk feel to this one, her first record with a full band.

Daniel  Bachman — “Levee”

Often lumped into the American Primitive and drone scene of guitar nerdom, Bachman is certainly an amazing player who first came to my attention via Josh Rosenthal of Tompkins Square Records, who has had a hand in the development of many of the artists listed here. Bachman’s version of “Levee” can’t get much better and displays his command of his instrument.

Nathan Bowles — “Sleepy Lake Bike Club”

A member of Black Twig Pickers with Jack Rose back in the day and a collaborator with Steve Gunn and others, Bowles is an accomplished solo artist exploring the rugged country between Appalachian old-time traditions and ecstatic, minimalist drone. At first a percussionist, his meditative clawhammer banjo on this one is hard to deny.

Kurt Vile — “Wakin’ on a Pretty Day”

Kurt Vile ends it with this favorite about wakin’ and bakin’ … it’s a lifestyle.


Photo credit: kait jarbeau is in love with you via Foter.com / CC BY

Counsel of Elders: Michael Chapman on Being Up for the Adventure

Prolific British singer/songwriter Michael Chapman returns this year with 50, an album named to celebrate the impressive and slightly staggering number of years he’s been touring. Chapman first picked up a guitar in high school in the mid-1950s, but due to the dearth of educational materials available at the time, he ended up teaching himself by listening to records again and again and again. He discovered an affinity for jazz guitarists like Django Reinhardt and Wes Montgomery along with blues guitarists like Big Bill Broonzy — differing styles which all became part of the pattern that is Chapman. History may want to place him squarely in the folk category, but he sees himself differently. He’s conversant in numerous languages, and he’s simply melded them together to create his own.

In 50, Chapman’s style finds its psychedelic inner child on songs like “Memphis in Winter” and “The Prospector.” It’s a subtle but present element helped along no doubt by producer and collaborator Steve Gunn. When the two revisited “Memphis in Winter,” which appeared on Chapman’s 2008 album, Time Past Time Passing, among others, they shortened it to just under seven minutes and applied a slick brushstroke of lead guitar to contrast the song’s more contemplative moments. Then there’s the yearning of “Falling from Grace,” a stunning conversation between two guitars, each of which appears to espouse a different life philosophy, while Chapman’s voice quietly sings against their chatter. And that’s before a piano in the corner offers its opinion.

For anyone who thinks education ends once you graduate or life’s lesson soften or shorten with age, Chapman exists as proof positive that it’s a never-ending process. He remains hungry for more and, more importantly, has developed the necessary sense of humor to help him along his way.

Your mother purchased a guitar for you when you were in high school, and you used to play it in the back of history class. Did you never get in trouble? That seems wild.

I was always in trouble. The problem with me and school was, I was one of those bad boys, but that went along with a high intelligence. They could never work me out, whether I was just ass or intellectual.

So without any guidance, you channeled your own curiosity into projects?

It made me get used to the fact that I was going to have to help myself. Ever since I’ve been done with school, that’s what I’ve been doing.

That makes sense, considering you turned to the great guitar players like Django Reinhart and Wes Montgomery to learn your craft.

I’ve always looked upon it like you’re a child learning to speak and, at first, you learn a few words, then you get a few phrases and, finally, you get to make up your own sentences. I look upon guitar playing like that. You have to learn the language before you can start to say what you want to say. In the back of my mind, I always wanted to figure out me, but to get there, I had to learn how to play like a lot of other people.

Well, that is a nugget of wisdom, if ever I heard one.

I’m still doing it. In those days — we’re talking about the mid-50s — there were no books to teach guitar, there were no DVDs or cassettes. You didn’t see guitar players on TV. I’d hear a record and, if there were two guitar players on it, I didn’t know, so I tried to play like two guitar players at once. I had a guitar for nearly three weeks before someone said, “You have to use the other hand, as well,” and I said, “Nah, come on, that’s going to be far too difficult.”

I love how you and Steve Gunn reshaped “Memphis in Winter” for the album. How did you decide upon revisiting it in this way?

I asked Steve to ride shotgun on the album. When you play everything and produce yourself, you can sometimes get so close to it you can’t see it. I asked Steve to ride shotgun and make sure that I didn’t go wandering off on a track that was never going to be any good. We enjoy playing together, so I put down the basic acoustic track and it was just Nathan [Bowles] banging his foot because, in a way, it didn’t need much else. I love what they do on it. Basically, that whole record was made by a bunch of friends sitting around in a room seeing what we could do with some songs. The last few records I’ve made, I had a studio down the road I had an interest in and it didn’t cost me anything, so I could go in there and spend as much time as I wanted. Sometimes you’ve got to realize that it’s not a perfect world and I’m not a perfectionist. To me, if it feels right, it is right, but sometimes it takes me a long time to get it feeling right. It’s confusing, isn’t it? But it’s confused me all my life. I’m still trying to figure it out.

Do you think you’ll ever reach a place where that kind of questioning has settled?

I’m always looking. Some of the records I’ve made over the last five or six years, I would never have thought I’d be interested in getting anywhere near. It started with that noise record I made with Thurston [Moore]. It’s incredibly interesting to me.

Besides Thurston, have you discovered anyone more contemporary that sets your pulse racing?

It depends on what I hear. According to my record collection, my favorite guitar player is Graham Green. But I listen to all kinds of people. A friend of mine in Nashville — William Tyler — has just come out with probably the best album of last year, an astonishing album called Modern Country. What I’ve heard lately is what friends of mine have given me, like Steve’s album, or Hiss Golden Messenger — that’s a great album. You’ve got to check out Nathan Bowles. He’s done a banjo album that’s sensational, and I hate banjos.

Memphis in Winter” and “The Prospector” contain this subtle psychedelic nod when it comes to guitar. You’ve played in many different styles, but I was most struck by that sound. Where is that impulse coming from?

That’s a really good question that I might not have an answer for. You’ve got the old cogs grinding; I’m going to have to think. I’m not a rock guitar player, by any means, but I sometimes enjoy people who are. Steve has, over the last five years, turned into a lead guitar player. He’s willing to take risks. He’s not your average clichéd rock guitar player.

Right, and then there’s his work with Kurt Vile.

Kurt’s an interesting guy, as well. I’ve done tours with Kurt.

I can’t even imagine what those green room moments were like.

Well, you know, I usually have a bottle of water and Kurt usually has a bottle of beer. I don’t drink when I’m playing. I mean he doesn’t drink much.

Speaking about touring, where does that energy and drive come from?

Red wine.

That is such a good answer. I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone reply with that.

Only because it’s true.

You don’t ever feel tired?

To be honest — and I hate to admit to this — I’m getting tired. I was working in Switzerland at the beginning of December and I was tired, and I’m just beginning to wake up. I’ve got to realize I’ll never be 30 again.

The energy levels certainly change.

I’m trying to slow down. I’m going to get a driver next year, because I can’t do long distance driving anymore. I hate to admit it even to meself, let alone to you.

I think it’s such a disservice when creative types fail to admit there can be such lulls, and that’s not even considering the touring aspect. I can only imagine how much touring takes out of you.

The playing’s great. It’s getting there that’s the problem because there’s no pleasant travel these days. You get on a plane, it’s always full, there’s never a spare seat; you get on a train, it’s the same; you get in a car, it’s far to drive and then you have to get out and go to work. When you’re young, you don’t know. I used to drive myself and stay awake for four days. Those days are over. You’ve just got to admit it.

I’m in my 30s and I don’t think I could stay awake for four days, at this point.

You’ve got to try. You’ve got to practice. Come on, Amanda.

With age, so they say, comes wisdom, and you’ll be turning 76 shortly before 50 comes out. What would you say is the most curious piece of wisdom you’ve obtained?

Persevere. Not everything happens immediately. Guitar playing is a process that I haven’t finished yet. I didn’t get it right on day six or day seven, or even year six or year seven. I still want to be better than I am, and I think I’m playing pretty good these days, because I stopped being a guitar technician. I like to think these days I play more atmospheric guitar than technical guitar. Does that make sense?

Absolutely, there’s more of a mood coming across than perfection.

In those days, when I learnt all that Django Reinhardt, I could play the guitar really fast. It was crap; it was really fast crap.

I think your idea about perseverance quite interesting coming at a time when so many seem to expect so much so quickly.

They expect gratification.

Instantly and there’s an entitlement behind it, too.

I’m still trying to figure things out.

Which, I think, is a life-long process. It never ends.

It has been to me, yeah. I have friends around my age and, for the last 20 years, they’ve made the same record. They have a style and they’ve stuck to it because people know what it is. In a way, that’s been a drawback to me, because it’s “What the hell is he doing now?” They have to make a record every three years, but it’s just like the one they did before that and like the one they did before that because they put all their notes in the saddle and they think, “That’s my identity.” Well, my identity is that maybe I haven’t got one. We’re all influenced by what we hear. If you keep on playing and keep your ears open things are bound to stick.


Photo credit: Carol Kershaw

James Elkington & Nathan Salsburg, ‘Up of Stairs’

There are lots of dudes doing the fleet-fingerpicking thing: Daniel Bachman, William Tyler, Steve Gunn, and Chuck Johnson are all guys at the top of their game who have put out excellent records in the last year-plus. Today, we've got another entry into that canon for your consideration — James Elkington and Nathan Salsburg's "Up of Stairs," the first single from their mid-September release Ambsace.

The album is the duo's second LP together; their debut Avos came out in 2010. They've each been busy with numerous other projects: Elkington has worked with the likes of Gunn, Daughn Gibson, and Jeff Tweedy; while Salsburg's full-time gig is the curator of the Alan Lomax archive. (He also appeared on another recent Song of the Week, Joan Shelley's "Stay On My Shore."

"Up of Stairs" opens with bright, complementary guitar licks that immediately feel warm and inviting. The song's notes ring with remarkable clarity, and the whole tune feels like a bad-vibes antifogmatic. Even if you're not in a funk, the graceful beauty of "Up of Stairs" will make your day even better. The song's title, Salsburg says, goes back to the pair's recording process in Elkington's attic studio. "There were lot of downstairs trips to refill on coffee and binge on carbohydrates," he offers. "I remember thinking one afternoon that we should take a break to go out of doors; instead, we went back up of stairs.” 

You can take a listen to "Up of Stairs" below, and learn more about Ambsace via Paradise of Bachelors.

7 Cosmic Americana Artists That Have Us Psyched

The Guardian recently ran an excellent piece on "cosmic Americana," a growing subset of the larger Americana scene that counts Gram Parsons among its pioneers and artists like the late Jack Rose as modern-day torchbearers. Characterized by experimental, often psychedelic instrumentation, thoughtful lyrics, and a bucking of mainstream trends, cosmic Americana finds itself on the freakier fringes of several traditional genres — particularly country, folk, and indie rock. The Guardian highlighted several BGS favorites, including William Tyler, Tyley Walker, and Steve Gunn. Below are a few more artists we love that fit the cosmic bill.

Connan Mockasin

Connan Mockasin's album titles — which include Forever Dolphin Love and Caramel — should be enough to pique anyone's interest. But if that's not enough for you, he backs up those tempting titles with dreamy, psyschedlic pop that's sure to please fans of Gram Parsons and Ariel Pink, alike.

Nathan Bowles

As bluegrass fans, we love anything with an Appalachian influence, including Nathan Bowles' droning, hypnotizing take on Appalachian banjo. Bowles also plays drums and percussion, as seen on his masterful 2014 album, Nansemond. He releases a new LP, Whole & Clover, on September 2.

Adam Torres

It's been a decade since Adam Torres released his debut album, Nostra Nova, which was reissued to great acclaim in 2015. Recently signed to Fat Possum, the Austin-dwelling songwriter known for poetic lyrics and beautiful melodies just released a new album, Pearls to Swine.

Tomás Pagán Motta

Washington, D.C.'s Tómas Pagán Motta, who has previously performed under the name the Petticoat Tearoom, combines his penchant for Americana with his Puerto Rican roots for a sound unlike much else out there. His 2015 self-titled album would appeal to fans of both Damien Rice and Nick Drake.

Cass McCombs

Cass McCombs has never been one to restrict himself to a single genre, exploring elements of folk, punk, rock, and country over the course of his 15-year career. His eighth and newest album, Mangy Love, sees McCombs blend already-explored influences like '60s psychedelia and folk-rock with Philadelphia-inspired soul. It's also — in tune with the current climate — his most political album yet. 

Steelism

Nashville instrumental duo Steelism count both Ennio Morricone and the Muscle Shoals sound as inspirations, and those seemingly disparate influences are apparent in their swirling, psychedelic songs. Their full-length debut, 615 to FAME, tells stories of Marfa, Texas, and land-locked surfers through mesmerizing melodies from pedal steel and electric guitar. 

Natalie Royal

Nashville's Natalie Royal defies genres, landing somewhere between jazzy folk and dark indie pop. Her elaborate vocals coupled with the elaborate arrangements of her songs makes for a haunting, singular listen.


Lede photo by Bryan Parker

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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