Frank Turner: 

The TVD Interview

BY MICHELLE EVANS | SEPTEMBER 30, 2011

I was able to sit down for a few minutes before the Ottobar show last Friday to talk with Frank Turner. I found him to be just as his songs portray him: funny, outspoken, passionate, and sincere. His good taste in music and his lack of pretention about it was something I found particularly endearing and refreshing, as well. Among other things, we discuss some of his favorite bands, his bringing Lucero to the U.K., and what it’s like to play increasingly larger venues. Oh, and guess what, y’all? He totally gets what it’s like to be a fan. He’s even got a band tattoo himself.

Click link for full interview.

(Source: dearbennichols.com, via dearbennichols)

TVD Live: Frank Turner & The Sleepless Souls at Ottobar, 9/23

BY MICHELLE EVANS | SEPTEMBER 26, 2011

I walked into the Ottobar in Baltimore knowing exactly what to expect from a Frank Turner show, for I had seen him about a year before as support for the Lucero and Social Distortiontour. That didn’t stave off my excitement any, though.  If nothing else, it kind of intimidated me, because I was walking in off only eight hours sleep in three days, and I wasn’t at all sure I had the energy for it. (Turns out a couple of Jameson on the rocks cured that very nicely.)

Frank’s shows are notoriously high-energy, sweaty, and interactive, and this past Friday night’s show was no exception. With all the clapping, stomping, and dancing, I can’t help but be reminded of my church-going days as a child. To me, Frank’s shows have a revival-esque quality to them, right down to all the screaming, gyrating folks up front. I half expected to see some fainting or speaking in tongues.

Downright humorous, I think, considering neither Frank nor I believe in god (“Glory Hallelujah”).

Frank opened the set with “Eulogy”, a new one off England Keep My Bones, and played three of my other favorites off that album, “English Curse,” “Peggy Sang the Blues,” and the oft-overlooked “One Foot Before the Other.” Standards like “The Road” and “Substitute” also made an appearance, as well as Counting Crows’ “Raining in Baltimore,” the first song he “ever learned to play on guitar” and an obvious ode to the city in which he was performing and its current weather.

He closed the set with what I believe was the highlight of the evening: a cover of Queen’s “Somebody to Love.” He returned with three songs for the encore: Bruce Springsteen’s “Thunder Road,” “The Ballad of Me and My Friends,” and my favorite song by him of all time, “Photosynthesis.”

Charismatic. Charming. Talented. Ultimate showman. To me, these are the things about Frank Turner that make him so great. Yes, the lyrics are inspiring and thought-provoking, and the music definitely makes one want to “get up and get outside” and live life to the fullest, but to me, it’s those qualities – charisma, charm, talent, and showmanship – that have earned him such an incredibly loyal and passionate fan-base.

The best thing about Frank Turner is Frank Turner.

Photos: Clayton Carlson.

(Source: dearbennichols.com, via dearbennichols)

On Friday, September 16th, The Low Anthem performed in the turn-of-the-century, fully restored Pocahontas County Opera House in rural mountain West Virginia. I was able to catch up with Ben Knox Miller after sound-check to discuss things like the historical aspect of the venue in which they played, the musical heritage of the area, and his plethora of musical influences.

So this is your last tour for a while, right?

Yeah, it’s our last tour for a while, because we’re taking a break to record a couple records that we’ve written but haven’t had any time at home [in Rhode Island], so it’s kind of the last tour for the material we’ve been touring with for about two and a half years now. We’ve been playing these sets that go chronologically, playing all the material in the order it was sequenced on the records, which has a nice, natural arc to it. We’ve never tried to do a set list like that way, so it’s been pretty fun.

 I think William Elliott Whitmore is a pretty damned near perfect fit for support on your tour. How’d that come to be?

I saw him play in Providence, like, five years ago—and he says it’s the only time he’s ever been there—and it was just in this bar, and I was a friend of a friend of the band that was headlining, and he was supporting them at the time, and I bought all his records that he had [smiles], and I’ve been listening to him for a long time. I don’t think anybody had heard of him then. This was before he was on Anti-. He was working with some indie record company at the time. He’s just… He’s just so good, and he’s so consistent. Every night he shows up, he’s a gentleman and gives a great performance.

As you may or may not know, there’s a lot of musical heritage here in Pocahontas County, West Virginia, specifically bluegrass. One of the biggest local musical families is the Hammons, who had a profound influence on the musical and story-telling traditions of Pocahontas County and central Appalachia. Did that have any influence on your decision to play here?

It’s not the music that’s my roots, but I love the Stanley Brothers. They’re one of my favorite live shows I’ve ever seen. Well, it was just Ralph, but he came to play in a local arts center near Rhode Island in Massachussetts, and he was playing with his son and his grandson, so there were three generations of Stanleys. And there’s a lot of roots music in our music, but it’s more Old Time than bluegrass in terms of what we play and also blues. Two of the guys [in the Low Anthem] are real jazz-heads, so they come from jazz and blues, and then I’m more raised on folk music and song writing, and Jocie is a classical musician.

Between all of you, how many instruments do you think you play collectively?

We had 26 on Oh My God Charlie Darwin, and then we had 27 on Smart Flesh. We wanted to beat it, so… [laughs].

Who are your musical influences? Who do you love listening to?

Well, one of them is a song-writer named Ivor Cutler, and he’s a Scottish humorist. He writes these very funny songs, and he plays a pump organ like the one that we have except his says “sewer” on it [laughs]. I think he’s also famous for wearing really high socks. He was a school teacher. He didn’t start writing songs until he was in his forties, and he’s just, like, so whimsical and hilarious. Another guy that I listen to all the time is Captain Beefheart. He’s this whimsical, psychedelic hybrid of Delta Blues and weird art music. He’s pretty out there. Both of them [Cutler and Beefheart] have such levity and a freedom that I’m really attracted to and something that I need an injection of.

And there’s an artist by the name of Mark Mandeville who’s a song-writer in a band called The Accident That Led Me to the World, which I love, but it’s this whole band that as a concept ends in the third record. The records are a narrative, and they go in order, and he hasn’t written the third one yet. It’ll be strange when he does. The arc will be complete. I think that’s a beautiful idea. I love his records, and he just did a solo record with a new band called Old Constitution, which is a straight-ahead country record.

I also love The Felice Brothers. You should check out The Felice Brothers. They’re a really good band.

I’m curious—what made you choose to play the Pocahontas County Opera House here in Marlinton, West Virginia, which happens to be a really small town compared to the cities in which you usually play?

Yeah, it is really small, but I thought the name of the venue was the most beautiful name, “Pocahontas County Opera House.” It just sounded too good to be true, so it had to be beautiful. Then I saw pictures, and it was beautiful. And I just really loved that name, “Pocahontas….”

Photo Credit: Drew Tanner

This entry was posted in TVD Washington, DC. Bookmark the permalink.

(Source: dearbennichols.com, via dearbennichols)

BY MICHELLE EVANS | SEPTEMBER 20, 2011

Bands tour all across the country (and the world!), but we don’t generally give it a second thought, unless they are coming to our town. Today, we will compare two tour dates on the tour of The Low Anthem and William Elliott Whitmore and see how they measure up.

One date was in Washington, DC at the famed 9:30 Club, as seen by TVD editor Kelly Kettering, and the other was a few hours away in the small West Virginia town of Marlinton at the Pocahontas County Opera House with editor Michelle Evans.

First up at the Pocahontas County Opera House was Willy Whitmore, a folk singer “from the hills of Lee County, Iowa.” The first song he sang in West Virginia was “Lift My Jug,” a jaunty tune employing the use of both a banjo and a kick drum. His voice was soulful, deep, and bordering on the spiritual, an especially perfect accompaniment to those songs of his with themes of politics, redemption, and the plight of the working man (of which there were blessedly aplenty), like “Diggin’ My Grave” and “Old Devils.”

 Such a spirit was also very much present at the DC show. Eager friends in the front row bought him drinks of Jim Beam and joyfully cajoled him to play their favorite songs as he came up to the audience to shake their hands. Just like at his last DC tour date at The Red Palace, he did a great cover of Bad Religion’s“Don’t Pray On Me.” Clearly he understands how us DCists enjoy our separation of church and state!

After about a half hour set and an incredibly gracious and gentlemanly departure from the stage by Mr. Whitmore, The Low Anthem appeared. And we do mean “appeared.” The stages in both West Virginia and DC were flat-out dark as the members found their instruments, and once they were ready, a couple of lights just lit the stage. (This was to happen between every song.) In WVA, they played quite a few favorites, like “Matter of Time,”a song about “the most passive way to look for love,” and “Ghost Woman Blues,” along with a less familiar but moving song, “To the Ghosts Who Write History Books.” (Apparently, I, Michelle, like songs about ghosts.)

During the DC performance, the band also played many of their greatest songs as lead singer Ben Knox Miller pointed out many times that they were going to play the set in chronological order through their albums. I [Kelly] was excited when they played “To Ohio” off of Oh My God, Charlie Darwin as it provides reminiscent memories of my Midwestern roots.

Each member can play several instruments, from the dulcimer to a plain ol’ saw, all of which are an absolute pleasure to witness. The vocal abilities are also nothing short of impressive, particularly those of Jocie Adams, who at times sang like a seraphim, while other times quite literally belted out the blues.

Ben Knox Miller’s warmth, humor, and audience engagement (right down to a cell phone-whistling-“noise” effect they brought out at both performances) was also a highlight and helped make the show feel like it was happening in your living room versus on a stage. They closed with an acoustic guitar-only version of Leonard Cohen’s “Bird on the Wire,” while everyone in the audience sang along, word for word. It was a truly beautiful moment, after which they received a well-deserved standing ovation.

By the end of both nights, it is clear that even though bands employ similar methods and song techniques on different tour dates, that doesn’t mean each audience doesn’t come away from the night with a manufactured performance. The Low Anthem revealed at the DC show that they will be going into the studio to record two full albums once this tour wraps up, so it may be awhile before we can see them live again. If they are on their way to your town, we highly recommend you take the time to go to a show.

Photos by Drew Tanner and Lauren Jaslow

This entry was posted in TVD Washington, DC. Bookmark the permalink.

(Source: dearbennichols.com, via dearbennichols)

I have not only had the pleasure of seeing Cory Branan live a number of times, but of being introduced to him—hand extended for the shaking—while he was peeing into a cup in the dirty corner of a dive bar. I caught up with him via phone while he was in Mississippi (under a tin roof in the rain, mind you) to talk about (among other things) his upcoming album, peer love, and his support tour with Dashboard Confessional. That being said… Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Cory motherfuckin’ Branan:

As of May, you said you were still shopping around for a label for Mutt. How is that coming along?

Well, honestly, we’ve got one last label that I’m interested in, that I like, and that we’re talking to, but it’s getting damn close to me starting my own label, or you know, self-releasing the record. It’s just getting to the point where I don’t see much advantage any other way. Starting in November, I think, I’m going to do a Kickstarter campaign, as weird as those things are. So we’re going to have that put up in November and December to set up for a March release. So, yeah, I think I’m going to go ahead and try to raise the 10 grand it costs to press and promote and do all that. Think I’m going to try to take it straight to fans on Kickstarter and use it as a way to pre-order the record.

I’m a big fan of Kickstarter.

Yeah, you know, there’s just something about it… I’m kind of old school. Something about it rubs me a little weird. I don’t know. I’m used to labels having to earn a record, and now labels just want you to record it and hand it to them for such a small investment. I don’t understand, really. I feel for them a little bit. I don’t know how any label’s doing it, sticking around, but I don’t know. I don’t get it. It’s just a real strange time for music.

 If I recall correctly, you actually went out to San Francisco, rented out a studio, put Jon Snodgrass [of Drag the River] and Rick Steff [of Lucero] on it… You really laid down some dollars.

I mean, yeah. It’s a record. It’s not just something recorded in my living room. Besides that, I poured five years of my life into this record. Not all recording. I’ve sat on it for a year and a half, and I just can’t settle now. I’ve seen some friends of mine have some luck with self-releasing, and you just have to take all the other factors out and do it.

So what’s the sound of the new record like?

Well, you know, like the name of the record. It’s kind of like the happiest, saddest, darkest, lightest work I’ve done so far [laughs]. It’s all of it. It’s sort of like, you know, a “choose your own adventure” thing [laughs]. The songs are all sort of thematically joined in a way but with different outcomes, because I’ll try anything seven or eight times [still laughing].

You know, I’ve just had some shit years the past couple years, and the only way I’ve dealt with it is humor and friends, and that’s how it tends to come in, like with sadness or pure joy. It’s not always so distilled. It just comes at you sometimes, so the songs are like that, and they veer off wildly from each other lyrically but definitely musically as well. I always hear songs a certain way, and even on this record, there’s one song I did that’s cut two ways because I just heard it both ways, and then I end up liking it both ways, so it’s on the record both ways.

Many of your peers have described you as “the best songwriter of our time.” How does it make you feel to hear other talented people in your genre say something like that about you?

Well, you know, it’s real kind to hear. Real nice to hear. If I could blush still, I’d probably blush [laughs], but you know, it’s real hard to stay out on the road, and I don’t believe in anything like karma or anything like that, but I have not met a lot of dickheads [laughs]. People run into awful musicians, and they say all these things, but I’ll tell you, I really fell in through luck, I guess, with genuine, talented, kind people, like Jon Snodgrass, Ben Nichols, Austin Lucas, so many. It’s something you want to happen. I don’t really give a shit if Keith Richards is a dick. He could be or not. I don’t know. I bet he’s a great dude. But my point is, youwant to hear about him being a good dude. I’ve been lucky enough to fall in with some good scoundrels [laughs].

I always like asking people whom they’re listening to these days. Anyone new?

Hmm, well, I don’t really listen to a whole lot of new music, but I’d say Good Old War out of Philly. Real tight three-part harmonies and just killer dudes with especially great live shows. I’ve done quite a few shows with them. Real good band. One of the last things that blew me away too was Joey Kneiser fromGlossary, who are also real great, but his solo record The All-Night Bedroom Revival is just a really great record, and, of course, Austin Lucas’ new record [A New Home in the Old World] is great.

One of the things I wanted to discuss with you was your tour with Dashboard Confessional, and their cover of “Tall Green Grass.”  It seems like a strange fit. How was that experience?

Well, when I talked to him [Chris Carrabba]—he’s sort of very intuitive—I found he was right about something. He said we were sort of doing the same thing. He was just like, “I just think that they [the audience] will get it.” Most of the tours I did with him were in support of Swiss Army Romance, and he was acoustic. He also capped the rooms off, so they’d be smaller than what he’d normally be playing. There were like 1,200 people a night instead of the 3,500 or 4,000 people they normally play to.

I think some of the kids balked just a little bit at how country I am or whatever [laughs], but his fans are real lyric-oriented, and it turned out to be the warmest welcome. It was really great. Really great shows. I thought he was very, very kind. And, you know, it was playing for kids that would never wander in to some of the toilets I play sometimes [laughs]. I really enjoyed it, rode on the bus with him, and we really became fast friends. Again, it’s what I was talking about: kind people gravitating, luckily, towards me.

So when are you going out on your own again?

Well, I go out a bit in September, then tour again in October, then again in November, ideally to support the Kickstarter campaign. I will probably take January and February off, maybe to even record another record, and then release Mutt in March.

Personally, your music gets me though shit, and I’ve heard other people say the same. How do you feel when people say things like that to you?

That’s great. That’s all we really want to do is, you know, be fuckin’ useful [laughs]. I come from a place where what I do is not viewed as work. You don’t want to be out there doing it for yourself. Your ego won’t carry you further than a couple of fuckin’ bad tours. None of us are in it for ego anymore. It’s when we’re useful, when you play music that means something to someone and connects. You know, it’s utilitarian [laughs].

(Source: dearbennichols)

AUSTIN LUCAS AT BLUE MOON CAFÉ, SHEPHERDSTOWN, WV, 8.26.11

Posted by April on September 1, 2011 · Leave a Comment 

Happy to have another guest post from the lovely and talented Michelle Evans (Dear Ben Nichols, The Vinyl District: Washington, D.C.), this time a live review of Austin Lucas and the Bold Party.

I discovered Austin Lucas a couple years ago, but I had yet to see him live. When I heard he was going to be at the intimately set Blue Moon Café in Shepherdstown, WV, with his brilliantly talented back-up band The Bold Party and opening acts Matt Kline (of The Fox Hunt) and Marcellus Hall (from Brooklyn), I packed up my ’89 Honda Accord (with pop-up headlights!) for a road-trip north to see some awesome music (oh, and my sister too).

I am very much a voice and lyrics person. I often say that if I can’t understand what someone is singing, I’m not likely to be very interested in what the singer has to say (although there are, of course, exceptions). While initially drawn by the overall tone and sorrowful beauty of Lucas’ voice, I came to find bluegrass, country (the real kind), mountain, and Old Time influences in his music – some of my favorite genres. But that’s not all I found. On his new full-length album, A New Home in the Old World, Lucas has employed the use of electric guitar, as can be heard on one of my new favorite songs by him, “Thunder Rail.” Some of my other favorite songs he performed that night included “Somebody Loves You,” “Go West” (below), and “Wash My Sins Away” (also below), all of which can be found on both Somebody Loves You and Live from the White Water Tavern.

Austin Lucas is by and large one of the alt-country genre’s unsung heroes. He not only has a beautiful, soulful voice that propels along a story, but a knack for constructing and writing songs that are both emotive and smart.

Recently coming off a tour with Willie Nelson’s Country Throwdown, Austin Lucas is currently headlining a tour with The Bold Party as well as touring as support for theReverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band. If Lucas is performing within a few hours radius of where you live, see him (and definitely see him with The Bold Party, if you can). It won’t be long before he’ll move from intimate saloon settings to theaters, and you’ll regret not seeing him when.

Austin Lucas Official Website

Austin Lucas @ Reverb Nation

Austin Lucas @ Facebook

A CONVERSATION WITH AUSTIN LUCAS, PART I

Posted by April on August 17, 2011 · Leave a Comment 

We continue our interviews from good NTSIB friend Michelle Evans (of Dear Ben Nicholsand The Vinyl District: Washington, D.C.) with the first part of her chat with the lovely Mr. Austin Lucas. Check out Austin, Drag the River and many more at SoundFest in Seattle, which starts today and runs through Sunday.

I was able to catch up with Austin Lucas just after his tour with Willie Nelson’s Country Throwdown. We talked about punk rock. We talked about bluegrass. We talked about the music industry. We talked so much, in fact, that we’re splitting his interview over today and tomorrow, when we’ll resume talking about things like his current tour withReverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band, his experience with the Country Throwdown, and Cory mother-fuckin’ Branan.

I’m of the ilk that while I want the people I love making music to do well and sell records, I wouldn’t wish fame on anyone. It just seems like the worst fate imaginable to me (but that’s just me). One of the things I appreciate most about you is your accessibility. Is that something you make a point of doing?

Sometimes I feel like when I’m doing a show, I’m there to see the people at the show and not the other way around. I try to be as open and interactive with my fans as possible, personally. The thing is, it’s not like any of us are famous, you know. I mean, some of us more than others. But even if you go see the stuff that you love in an up to 500 capacity venue, and even if it is sold out, that’s 500 people in that town, and if you think about what it’s actually like to be famous, it’s like being in awe. I mean, being at this level allows a certain amount of interaction, and that’s a beautiful thing about it. You can still be interactive, and you can actually become friends with the people who listen to your music rather than have just a bunch of nameless faces that are buying your product.

Though buying your product is great. You deserve to make a living doing something you love. Some people hold a viewpoint that opposes that, and I don’t understand where that comes from.

I think there are a lot of people who frown upon it. I don’t personally care for those folks, especially the band folks that pretend that’s not what they want and kind of cast off people the more popular they get. That’s always been something that’s really bothered me personally. You know, everyone wants to be popular, and everyone’s gonna ride it as far as it’ll take them. I mean, not everyone wants to be mega-famous, but people want fans at their shows. I mean, it’s depressing to show up in a town and have nobody there. Absolutely nobody fucking wants that, and, you know, I think that it’s a really interesting dichotomy that, like, it’s okay of 200 people come and see you, but it’s not okay if 500 people come and see you, or it’s not okay if a thousand people come and see you?

I’m not gonna lie. As a fan, do I love it when I go to a show, and there are only, say, five other people there? Sure. Yeah, that totally rocks for me, but I understand that it may not necessarily rock for the band trying to make a living.

I mean, it can be really, really fun, depending on the situation, but if you’re talking about making a living and the repercussions of there only being six people at a show, there’s more going on than a lot of people think about. There’s the fact that you’re probably making less money or making no money, and there’s a guarantee, and there’s a promoter, and they lost a bunch of money on it. The odds of them doing another show for you go down dramatically. Also, the odds of other promoters doing a show for you also go down dramatically. Trust me, I know, because that’s my life.

So how did you start playing music?

I’m naturally a very lazy human being, which is why I’m a musician in a lot of ways. You know, because I had no interest in going to school, and it was the only thing I was naturally, predisposed to being good at, and I’d already been playing music my whole life, since I was a little child, so I just kind of fell into it. It was kind of, like, well, what can I do that requires the minimal amount of effort with the most payback? All right, well, I’ll play music. I’m gonna keep doing that. It’s fun, and I was always good at it. I mean, maybe not the greatest in the world or anything like that, but it was something I was always decent at.

Personally, I’m a huge fan of the bluegrass influence in your music.

Well, I’m definitely not at all real bluegrass. I mean, I definitely have bluegrass influences and stuff like that, but as a genre, serious bluegrass fans would definitely not call me bluegrass. The only people who ever do are people who don’t really know but maybe hear the banjos and the fiddles and call it bluegrass. Bluegrass is a very, very specific style of music, and I might utilize a lot of the motifs that are involved, and I’m definitely very heavily influenced by bluegrass, but more honestly by mountain music. That’s really more of what inspires me, at least for my first several records.

That’s true, which is why I said “influence.” [laughs]

I’m used to people calling me bluegrass, and I’m always like “uh-uh”. For me, I’m just immediately like, “Nope.” Honestly, I like to educate people musically, which is why if somebody asks me what I do, I always say, “I’m a folk singer,” or “I’m a country singer.” I consider all of it to be folk music, truthfully. I consider everything that’s made by people that aren’t fucking, like, ridiculously wealthy to be folk music. [laughs] And I know that’s, like, a poor dude being biased against rich people, which admittedly, I kind of am. [laughs]

So I’m curious then, how did you find punk rock?

I’m from southern Indiana. We had a rock station that back in the 80s and 90s played what we consider to be classic rock now, but they were pretty diverse. They had a radio show on Thursday nights called “Brave New World”, and it was all punk and all alternative, college rock stuff. I’m from Bloomington, which is a university town, and I grew up about six miles outside of the city in the woods, but the county seat is Bloomington, so I’m going to school there and going to shows and stuff like that. We have record stores. I was very lucky in that regard. I mean, our record store may not have carried everything, but it carried enough to give me a pretty good musical education as far as stuff outside of what was on the radio. I also have an older brother seven years older than me, and he was into punk, so that’s how I got into it. The first shows that I went to were scary. You didn’t know what was gonna happen. There was always crazy fights, and being 12 years old and seeing a circle pit and trying to get in it is pretty intense. [laughs]

Austin Lucas Official Website

Austin Lucas @ Facebook

Austin Lucas @ Twitter

(via dearbennichols)

A CONVERSATION WITH AUSTIN LUCAS, PART II

Posted by April on August 18, 2011 · Leave a Comment 

NTSIB friend Michelle Evans (Dear Ben Nichols, The Vinyl District: Washington, D.C.) concludes her conversation with Austin Lucas. If you’re in Seattle, you can catch both Austin and Drag the River this Friday at SoundFest

It seems both Austin Lucas and I are quite the chatty pair, which is great for y’all, because we discuss the country music scene, Lucero, Cory Branan, and everything in between.

So what are your thoughts on country music?

I listen to a lot of country radio. I appreciate the songwriting, even though most people hate the songwriting, but I listen to it, and I’m like, “This is so catchy. This person is such a clever, intelligent songwriter.” What a lot of people don’t understand about pop music, in order for something to stay with someone after hearing it one time, it has to be extremely catchy. The average music listener isn’t really a music fan. They want image. They want to lust after somebody who’s a star. So the thing is, if you don’t reel them in with a really, really catchy hook, they’re not interested. Trust me, writing really, really dumb and catchy stuff is a lot harder than you think. There’s a certain amount of genius that goes into doing that. A lot of people are hateful towards pop music and very spiteful, and the way I feel about it is, it’s there, but you don’t have to pay attention to it or give money to it, and maybe spend less time being upset about that stuff and more time discovering bands that are worth giving money to and are great. On the other hand, as a songwriter, I just respect the fact that people can do that. And, I mean, who are we kidding? Everyone likes a certain amount of that stuff.

Yeah, there seems to be some pretentiousness out there with certain groups of people regarding pop music or music on mainstream radio.

Yeah, it’s like this pretentiousness exists in people to be nit-picky. When I was young, and I think when everyone’s young, and we’re first exposed to music, everything they hear, they like, pretty much. I used to see the shittiest bands just because they were local and they played kind of the style that I liked. Any band that came on tour, I would go see. Anything I could get into at the all-ages clubs, I’d see. Or a house show, I was there. I would just sit in the record store and be that annoying guy asking what’s good. The point that I’m getting at is that as we get older, we get so pretentious. Our tastes get refined, and we learn to be pretentious, because everyone else is pretentious. I’m guilty of it too. We all are at some point, but the truth is, I feel like I have to have an opinion about all the music out there, even if I don’t really care either way about it. I hate the fact that I’m like that – that I’m the way that I hate how people are.

You just came off Willie Nelson’s Country Throwdown. What were some of the highlights?

Everything was a highlight at the Throwdown, but I think that the biggest highlight was probably the first night that I went on stage and sang with Willie Nelson. I just remember how it felt. It’s weird. I did it seven times. I was definitely counting, because that’s what you do when something that spectacular is happening to you. But the first time that I did it, it was in Arkansas, and Travis from Last chance Records – my record label boss – was there as well as my wife, so it was so cool to run out on stage and be like, “I’m doing this, and these people that I care about are here!” And I looked over, and Willie Nelson’s there, and I swear to god, and everyone told me I was crazy, but I swear he looked over at me with a look that said, “What the fuck is this fucking freak dude doing on the fucking stage right now?” [laughs] I mean, because for the first week of that tour – and this is no joke – everybody thought that I was on the crew, because it’s Warped Tour personnel, so all the stage managers and lighting people and tour managers are all punks and all tattooed, so everyone just assumed that I was part of that menagerie of the circus. It took a long time before everyone realized I was a performer.

Did that make you feel extra special?

Well, it made me feel very special in a lot of ways, but it also made me feel like an outsider, which I was. The people I performed with were great, but there were press people specifically who had no desire to talk to me and who were talking down to me. They’d cut interviews short or say really rude things to me like, “So you’re not part of the country music scene.” And I was like, “Actually, I’m part of the alternative country scene which most people would probably argue is more like country music than the country music you’re talking about,” and he countered with, “Well, you’re not in Nashville. You’re not going to be on the radio,” and I’d just be like, “Yup. That’s true.” I dunno, it was funny for me, because I don’t take things that seriously, so I would just make jokes about it usually. There were some really nice press people too, though, who saw me as a good story. You know, the guy who’s not from Nashville and who doesn’t live in Nashville and not part of the corporate country music establishment, and yet I still have a career, and I’ve toured Europe, so a lot of the people from the press were excited to talk to me. It was just kind of a mixed bag, and I really just thought it was all funny. What was really funny is that I always get that I’m “too country” in the punk world, so it was funny going into the country world and be told I’m not “country enough.” [laughs]

You started out in the crust-punk scene with your band Guided Cradle, which is as metal as punk can get, and now you play folk/country music. I’m interested to know who some of the bands are whom you admire or of whom you are a fan.

Well, one of the bands is Lucero. And I know a lot of people love Lucero, and I know a lot of people hate Lucero, but the truth is – and I don’t think there’s anybody who would disagree with this on either side – but Lucero really were a game-changer. They fought to become as popular as they are, and that’s probably why they’re going to be popular until they decide to call it quits or until they die. Every single fucking fan that they ever had, they had to fight for. They won them by constant fucking touring. You know, they were playing country music in a scene [the punk scene] that was totally not interested in it, and in a lot of ways, made people interested in it. I think that a lot of the interest that happened in country music and roots music in the 2000s happened as a result of Lucero hitting the scene and working their ass off. I mean, there are a lot of other factors, but I think they are a very heavily influential band and a very important band, and if someone who’s not a dick writes a book about the scene one day, if they don’t give Lucero all those props, then they’re leaving them out because they personally have a pretentious idea of what is and what isn’t important. Them and Drag the River, actually, are both important.

Anyone else?

Cory Branan is another one. He is probably the best songwriter of my peers. And I don’t think that – I know that that’s true. The guy is a fucking genius. He’s a great performer. I hold him in such a high regard. He’s definitely one of the genre’s unsung heroes.

Last but not least, tell me about your current tour.

The first two weeks are just headline shows with my back-up band, The Bold Party. Then we’re main support on tour with Reverend Peyton’s Big Damn Band who is from Brown County in Indiana, right next to Monroe County, which is where Bloomington is, which is where I’m from. They have a lot of days off, so the days off are going to be filled with more headline shows. Basically, it’s half a support tour and half a headline tour. It’s gonna be awesome, because I’m going to be out with people from my home turf.

Austin Lucas Official Website

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A CONVERSATION WITH JON SNODGRASS OF DRAG THE RIVER

Posted by April on August 16, 2011 · Leave a Comment

NTSIB’s dear friend Michelle Evans of Dear Ben Nichols and The Vinyl District: Washington, D.C. has graciously allowed us to share her recent interviews with Jon…

This is from my YouTube channel. It’s Ben Nichols of Lucero performing a new song Women and Work on Saturday, April 23rd on his motorcycle solo tour in Knoxville, TN at the Square Room. (Although the camera IS sideways, the video and audio are pretty good, and there’s little to no camera shaking.)

This is from my YouTube channel. It’s Ben Nichols of Lucero performing Crystal Blue on Saturday, April 23rd on his motorcycle solo tour in Knoxville, TN at the Square Room. (Although the camera IS sideways, the video and audio are pretty good, and there’s little to no camera shaking.)

Lyrics:

I see your eyes clear in my head

I loved the girl I barely met

Crystal blue dream come true

In slow motion you just walk on by

Remembering now, remember how

You looked at me across the room that night

Were strangers still despite my will

You don’t need her name with a smile so sweet

Your eyes cut deeper into me

Crystal blue dream come true

In slow motion you just walk on by

Remembering now, remember how

You looked at me across the room that night

Were strangers still despite my will

Hell I won’t be gone too long

Well I’m never coming back

All it takes is saying so long

Well it always comes to that

It’s just one smile

It’s just one smile

It’s all for you

It’s all for you

I see you eyes clear in my head

I loved the girl I barely met

Crystal blue saw right through

In slow motion you just walked on by

This is from my YouTube channel. It’s Ben Nichols of Lucero performing Hello Sadness on Saturday, April 23rd on his motorcycle solo tour in Knoxville, TN at the Square Room. (Although the camera IS sideways, the video and audio are pretty good, and there’s little to no camera shaking.)

Anyone who likes Ben Nichols, Lucero, folk, country, folk-punk, alt-country, or any other combination thereof should watch this documentary in full here. (And, obviously, Townes Van Zandt fans.)

This is from my YouTube channel. It’s Ben Nichols of Lucero singing a new, unrecorded Lucero song (I Can’t Stand to Leave You, which he has been playing live a lot with Lucero) as well as an awesome Townes Van Zandt cover (No Lonesome Tune) at the Square Room on Saturday, April 23rd, 2011 on his motorcycle solo tour. (Although the camera IS sideways, the video and audio are pretty good, and there’s little to no camera shaking.)

I Can’t Stand to Leave You Lyrics:

I see your face when I close my eyes

I hear your name when the wind’s just right

The setting sun’s gone once more

Each night’s worse than the night before

Now I can’t stand to leave you

I can’t take the weight of this world on my own

I don’t know what I’ll do

I don’t think I can make it all alone

They say all will mend with time

That don’t mean much to me tonight

Like city streets, your eyes shine

And I’m out here, with the losing kind

Now I can’t stand to leave you

I can’t take the weight of this world on my own

I don’t know what I’ll do

I don’t think I can make it all alone

And yes, I’ve felt this kind of pain

A hole straight through my chest

It’s always there, never far away

Seems now it’s all that’s left

Every song I hear your voice sing

The words are clear. Come back to me

Come back to me my only one

And hold me close. Your work is done.

Now I can’t stand to leave you

I can’t take the weight of this world on my own

I don’t know what I’ll do

I don’t think I can make it all alone

The light from the disco ball surrounds us with stars, and I looked like trouble right from the start. You told me so. Hell, you told me so.

(Source: bold-travesty)