A Conversation with Lucinda Williams – HuffPost 3.15.10

Mike Ragogna: What have you been up to since the release of your last album, Little Honey?

Lucinda Williams: Well, we bought a house two years ago February, then the record came out, and we had to go right on the road. It’s been a crazy last couple years, very hectic. We’ve been touring pretty much non-stop supporting the album, and there’ve been some side projects I’ve done, singing on different people’s records. We’ve been back and forth for a couple of weeks, then gone again, so when we’ve been home, we’ve been doing projects around the house.

MR: You performed in Cleveland at the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame a few months ago. What was that like?

LW: It was a Janis Joplin tribute, it was part of their Masters Series, they do it every year. I played a couple of Janis Joplin songs, and I wrote a song about her called “Port Arthur” that I finished, literally, backstage before I went out.

MR: Which Joplin classics did you sing?

LW: I sang “Me And Bobby McGee” and that Big Mama Thornton song, “Ball And Chain.” It was a little bit of a challenge, it’s always hard to learn a new song for the first time, and I wanted to try and make it my own. It’s hard with Janis Joplin because, with those songs, she was singing very elaborative, if that’s the word.

MR: And with “Ball And Chain,” you had the original to check out.

LW: I went back, researched it, and went to the Big Mama Thornton version, just to get a straighter rendition of it. I wasn’t sure if I was really gonna be able to get behind it because it wasn’t really my style. I’m more into Delta blues as opposed to Chicago blues. It was hard when I was just sitting with my guitar trying to figure it out.

But then when we got there, they had a house band that was comprised of all these great players, like some of the Muscle Shoals guys who played with everybody, so they have all this stuff down. I told them ahead of time what songs I was going to play, and when I got there, they had a rehearsal bay set-up. It was the day before the show. They set it up in this room, and all the artists went in, one after the other, and ran through whatever song they were going to do with the band. But it was all very spontaneous, and we pulled it off somehow.

MR: Janis Joplin isn’t an easy mimic.

LW: With a lot of Janis’ music, she would kind of add verses and be saying stuff in-between. I just told the audience that no one can sing Janis Joplin like Janis Joplin. Nobody can really follow her versions of those songs, it’s really difficult, although, one of the artists who performed, Susan Tedeschi, did an amazing job. She just nailed it, she had all the vocal nuances and Joplin vocal thing. I was really impressed. As for myself, I said, “I’m not even gonna try and go there.”

MR: What are your thoughts on the importance of the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame?

LW: Well, I think anything is good when it gives a nod of appreciation to the history of what an artist has done. It’s kind of like, I guess, a museum of sorts, or like the Grammys. In the musician’s world, I would consider it a great honor to have my name in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. It’s sort of like a lifetime achievement type thing, you know, with peers and other people in the business saying, “Hey, we appreciate what you’ve contributed.” It’s nice to get those things. It’s always nice to be appreciated.

MR: And you’ve been “appreciated” yourself with quite a few Grammy awards and nominations, such as for Little Honey that was up for Best Americana Album at the last award show.

LW: (laughs) Yeah, it’s funny, I hadn’t realized there were so many. I’ve been nominated thirteen times, and won three Grammys altogether, all in different categories. It’s kinda cool, actually.

MR: It used to be cool to snub the Grammys or publicly trash them because the awards are decided by insiders. But I bet when you hear you’re nominated for one or when you actually receive one…

LW: (laughs) I remember before I got nominated for my first one. It started to change when Bonnie Raitt won that Grammy, this was back when I was still struggling along. At that time, I was still part of the underground or I was the underdog, whatever. But I remember my peers saying, “Oh, wow, that’s so great, Bonnie Raitt won a Grammy!” She was really the first of that type of artist, and at the time she got it, there weren’t really people winning that you could get excited about or connect with musically, you know? (laughs) I remember after that, things shifted. It was kind of like, “Okay, FINALLY they recognize someone from that other world.”

MR: It also took a while before NARAS finally acknowledged the “flannel” crowd.

LW: (laughs) That’s a funny way of putting it.

MR: But the truth is, as cool as those acts were, in the end, they were into getting their awards. How can you not be, enter human nature.

LW: Right, anyone who says they don’t care about winning one, I don’t know…

MR: Someone very close to you just got an award, right?

LW: My dad’s from Arkansas. Originally, he’s a poet, and he was just awarded the Porter Prize. It’s an award they give out every year, kind of like a lifetime achievement award for poetry. He got it in October, they had a reception and a dinner, and he got up and read several poems.

MR: Let’s talk about your “style.” You’re not easily categorized because you play in so many different genres. I mean, you don’t overtly shift your musical approach for every album, though each one is unique, mostly unlike the last. It seems that you’re just writing and recording what you’re feeling, unconcerned about sticking to a template.

LW: Yeah, I’m basically a singer-songwriter, and I just approach it in the way the artists I grew up listening to did before things became so categorized. If you go back and listen to the contemporary folk singers of the day, there are a lot of styles there. A lot of the albums by The Band or Buffalo Springfield–a couple of my early inspirations–if you break their songs down, they had country and more.

MR: What do you think were some of the factors?

LW: For one thing, different guys in the band were contributing songs. I think “Kind Woman” was a kind of country and rock song. So, it was all mixed-up, but it didn’t matter, it was Buffalo Springfield, and that was it. You knew what you were getting. And obviously, Bob Dylan, you know, his stuff was always Bob Dylan. It wasn’t, “What is this?” It’s folk, country, rock, whatever. The same goes for The Band, Creedence Clearwater Revival…it was all just a big jumble. Even Judy Collins covered all styles.

MR: And Joni Mitchell, with folk, jazz, rock…

LW: Yeah, they all did it. And Neil Young. I just listened to the songs before I started writing a lot. If I liked the songs, I’d do them. It didn’t matter, I would just make it my own.

MR: And all these years later, “Lucinda Williams” has become a very credible brand.

LW: That’s what I’ve always wanted to be. Like I was saying, “Bob Dylan,” and… (laughs)

MR: You laugh, but didn’t Time magazine single you out as America’s best songwriter in 2002?

LW: Talk about an honor, my God, I was SO humbled.

MR: And you’re in an overly-talented class with contemporaries such as John Hiatt, Nanci Griffith, Steve Earle, Ryan Adams…

LW: And I know them all! So, I was like, “Wait, no, what about John Prine?” And then I was reassured. Someone said they did a different one every year, it was just for that year, and I was like, “Okay, okay.” (laughs)

MR: But maybe there’s something to this. Maybe what separates you is that you’re approaching things from a wider-angled lens. For instance, not many have performed their entire catalog on tour.

LW: Yeah, that was fun. Actually, Tom came up with that idea. He’s got the marketing genius down, that’s why he’s lasted so long in the music industry.

MR: And he was Mr. Best Buy.

LW: Exactly, and he did A&R, and he was at Fontana, UMG for a long time.

MR: How long have you been working together?

LW: We’ve been together for about…we’re going on five years. My last manager, Frank Callari, who I was with for about ten years, suddenly died. We were over in Europe, and he’d been having health issues. Well, Tom was looking for a career change, he gave his notice to Fontana, and just stepped-in. It’s been great because he definitely brings his marketing prowess, A&R talents, and all this other stuff with him into the management. A lot of people manage, but it’s a day-to-day kind of thing, they don’t sit there and say, “Hey, what about this idea?” Tom’s really good at that.

MR: Plus it’s great to be on an artist-friendly label like Lost Highway. It seems that the label has done a better job than your previous labels at raising the public’s consciousness about your work.

LW: Yeah. You know, in the beginning, with Lost Highway, due to the success of Car Wheels…, that’s when they started the label. It was kind of built around the success of the kind of music I was doing. Car Wheels… just surprised the hell out of everybody. You know, here was this rootsy, singer-songwriter-type album that jumps out of nowhere and wins a Grammy. Everybody went, “Wow, maybe we can build something around this, these types of artists, like Ryan Adams, and have people pay attention to us, finally, on a bigger scale.” So, that’s how it all started, with that premise.

MR: Before Car Wheels… was released, wasn’t it originally going to be on Mercury? This album has a bizarre history, right?

LW: I was actually on Mercury. Danny Goldberg was running it at the time. Thanks to him, the album finally came out. This goes back to when everything got held up which was due to music business stuff. It was back when a lot of the labels were going under and things were shifting. I kinda got caught up in that for a while, where I would be on one label and it would go under, then I would find another one.

MR: Yeah, you’ve had a challenging run with labels.

LW: That’s why there didn’t seem to be any consistency in the behind-the-scenes stuff, because I went from Rough Trade to RCA to Chameleon/Elektra, and when Chameleon folded, I went to American with Rick Rubin who was initially the executive producer of the third edition of Car Wheels… Then when we finished the album, he started having problems with American. And here’s what a lot of people don’t know: Car Wheels… was finished and in the can and got held up for an entire year because Rubin wouldn’t let it go since he was in the process of changing distribution from Sony.

MR: So, of course, your project progressively gets more caught-up in the politics and the machine.

LW: Everything got held up, and everybody was freaking out and calling, “We gotta get this thing out!” So, Danny Goldberg at Mercury wanted it, tried to get it from Rick, and Rick didn’t want to budge, and this went on for an entire year. Finally, Rick said okay. They did the deal, Mercury paid Rick, and it came out.

MR: Enter Lost Highway.

LW: You know, Luke Lewis ran the Nashville division of Mercury Records, and that’s how Lost Highway got started. Then the record came out, but initially, everyone was so paranoid about it. They didn’t want people to think it was country, though the label was based in Nashville. I mean, I was wearing cowboy hats already, whatever, you know. Kinda like that Barbara Mandrell song, “I Was Country When Country Wasn’t Cool.” (laughs)

I remember at the Triple A convention in Boulder, I was supposed to perform and I was wearing cowboy hats at the time. I was on Mercury and I was told, “I don’t think you should wear a cowboy hat at this thing, they might mistake you for being country.” Of course, typical rebel me, freaked out–“I’ll wear my damned cowboy hat if I want to!” (laughs) They were so concerned about the image. Then a year later, all the heavy-metal rockers were wearing cowboy hats.

MR: Again, ahead of the curve.

LW: Yeah, a little bit of that. A lot of people in the business were very timid, or that was how things were getting. They just got so conservative, you know, “I don’t wanna rock the boat, I don’t want to lose my job, blah, blah, blah…” Gone were the days of the John Hammonds.

MR: Personally, I think that’s why the major labels are in such a mess. All the problems conveniently are blamed on digital downloading, but I think the bigger problem is that music execs–the de facto patrons of the field–have lost their fighting spirit and real belief or feel for the music. It’s no longer a brave caste, and this goes beyond merely saving face for having a flop. Real creative people who are supposed to be overseeing or helping the careers of other creative people just can’t survive, let alone succeed, in these hyper-aggressive atmospheres.

LW: I know, and people just got discouraged about it, or like you said. People would be let go or they’d leave. I remember there were some great people in this industry, like when I went from Rough Trade to RCA. I was real skeptical about joining a major label. I loved being on Rough Trade, but it was getting to the point where they were limited as far as what they could do. They had a limited staff of people, and record stores wouldn’t order that many copies of the album. Unless you were on a major label with major distribution, you just couldn’t get anywhere, you know? Rough Trade did a great job, they did everything they could do, but then it was kind of like, “Okay, I need to take the next step.”

My record (Lucinda Williams) started getting a lot of attention, but before that, I couldn’t get signed to save my life. Rough Trade put that record out, and all the press just went crazy. Then I started getting interest from the majors. RCA came along, and Bob Buziak was the guy signing people. He had an independent spirit. He was signing acts like The Cowboy Junkies, Treat Her Right that later became Morphine, The Wildflowers, and all these kinds of bands. So I signed with RCA because he was there. Then some guy came in who didn’t appreciate the independent spirit and wanted to do things differently, and Bob said, “Well, see ya.”

MR: And Lucinda Williams is now stuck on a very different RCA Records.

LW: I didn’t want to be there anymore after that. Bob left and, of course, took all the cool people with him.

MR: What was that new reality like?

LW: This was right before Sweet Old World came out. We’re having a pre-production/rehearsal thing-y with this A&R guy in the room with us. I was with my old band that I did the Rough Trade record with, and we’re talking about the production of the album and who would be good to do it with. I mentioned Bob Johnston and I said, “I likeBlonde On Blonde” or something like that, and I swear to God that this A&R guy says, “Blonde On Blonde? Is that a band?” We all looked at each other like, “You’ve got to be kidding me?” This guy’s credibility went out the window…like, I was supposed to do a record with this guy? Eventually, we cut some tracks, and he started sending some of them to Dave Thoerner in New York to remix for radio. He called me up and said, “I got the tracks, come listen,” and I went to his office. He’s jumping up and down in his Gucci shoes… “Isn’t it great?” he says. “It sounds like a record now!”

Of course, the bass and drums were pushed way up front, and my vocals pushed back which was the sound they wanted back then. I sat there looking at him and said, “No, I hate it. It sucks.” I hated it and I hated him! I didn’t say, “I hate you,” but I was frustrated, and I was scared, you know? I hadn’t done a lot of records, and I was terrified of being over-produced. I mean, a lot of this stuff now, I probably wouldn’t make such a big deal over. But, for me, back then, I was so innocent, and I didn’t want to ruin my art. I was real, real skeptical about the business part of things because I’d been on my own for so long.

MR: It’s always served you well, you being your own A&R team.

LW: I just trusted my instincts. I finally got off the label, they knew I wanted to go, but they didn’t want to let me go. Finally, I was on a panel at South By Southwest, Bill Lloyd was also on it. The name of the panel was “How Does The Music Business Affect Creativity?” Well, I thought, “Okay, here’s my chance,” and I got up there and told my story without naming names. Sure enough, the next day, my manager at the time called and said, “Are you happy now? You’re off the label!” He wasn’t real happy about it, and I was like, “Yay!”

MR: Then you sign with Chameleon.

LW: I got a chance to go back with Bob because he joined Chameleon Records. The guy who had the band Sonia Dada started this label, he brought Buziak in.

MR: Yeah, Danny O’Keefe was there, and a few other smart acts.

LW: It was really cool. And then they folded. (laughs) And I thought, “Here I am again.” Then I went to American.

MR: Which had to seem like an amazing signing to you.

LW: The beauty of that was the consistency. It was the first time that all my ducks were in a row. You know, finally, it was time to market me the right way, I had a manager I liked working with, and I liked the people at the label.

MR: Why wouldn’t they? You have acres of integrity, and you’re well-respected by fans, the press, and among your peers who are all over your records. Paste Magazine‘s Josh Jackson declared your duet with Elvis Costello “Jailhouse Tears” to be the fifth best country-rock duet of all time. (note: http://www.pastemagazine.com/high_gravity/2008/07/elvis-costello-lucinda-williams-the-best-countryro.html)

LW: Really? Yeah, there’s a real sense of camaraderie. It’s been really cool for me to finally feel like I’ve gained the respect, admiration, and friendship of these artists who influenced me, like Bruce Springsteen, Elvis Costello, and Emmylou Harris.

MR: And you sing on many of your pals’ albums too. What’s one of your latest guest spots?

LW: I recently sang on this album that Ray Davies is doing. I got to meet and hang out with him. We were in England at the time, and he found out I was going to be over there. He was doing this album that’s a little piecemeal, it’s done whenever he gets a chance because he’s been touring and stuff, and he’s having different artists come in. Some of the material is older Kinks songs like the one I did called “A Long Way From Home.”

MR: What was the recording process like?

LW: The track wasn’t even cut, I just went in and did a vocal with him playing guitar. I asked who the tracking band was going to be, and, bless his heart, he said, “Well, there’s this band called Wilco. They’re coming in to cut the track, but I’m not going to be able to be here because I have to do this gig in Nottingham,” or something like that. (laughs) He’s such an Englander.

MR: Where did you record it?

LW: We did it in the old Kinks studio in the north of London. Afterwards, he and Tom and I had Indian food at this place he goes to all the time. God, it was amazing Indian food. We just hung out, talked, and he’s just the sweetest guy.

MR: You have some great other pals, like Matthew Sweet who I think is a natural genius. A while back, I got to work with him on a compilation of his early material.

LW: Oh, God, I LOVE him! I just want to hug him every time…he’s so SWEET!

MR: So to speak…yeah, he really is. I admired his work since he was a kid, his first three albums, to me, being real pop classics.

LW: I never worked with him until he came in with Susannah Hoffs to do harmonies. I had no idea that he was so advanced in terms of writing things out and arranging. Usually, when people come in and sing on something, it’s kind of like how I am, I just go in and wing it. We sent him the track for “Rarity,” and he came up with this different, four-part harmony thing, all arranged. He brought in Susannah and just told her where to sing. It was layered with harmonies, and I was just sitting there completely blown away. I’d never seen anybody work like that. I called him the Brian Wilson of his generation.

MR: He is, he’s pure music. And he has this beautiful old Fender Rhodes. I remember when I saw it, I thought that, these days, anyone who’s going to invest in an old-time instrument like that when you can easily use a synth sample really understands the essence of music. I was really impressed. So, are you working on a new album?

LW: Yeah, I’m always writing and always getting ideas and jotting stuff down. It’s an ongoing thing, it’s all the time. I keep them in a folder. Sometimes, I’ll get a little bit further on one thing, then fiddle around with another. I don’t always apply myself, though I’m not lacking in inspiration. When we went in to do Little Honey, it was really like doing West Part II because I had the majority of songs already written. I added a few new songs.

MR: Plus you’re constantly playing live. Does that get in the way of writing?

LW: We’ve been touring for the last couple of years, pretty much, but I’ve still been getting ideas.

MR: What’s your creative process like?

LW: A therapist told me one time, “Don’t worry about it, you’re working on a J-Curve.” That’s how I wrote all the songs for West, I ended up just writing and writing. And when I was writing songs for Essence, I was kind of going along, and Frank said, “You know, it’s starting to get to that time,” and I was like, “Yeah, yeah.” Then all of a sudden, I just broke out my folder of stuff and sat there for ten days straight.

MR: So, it just happens when it hits you.

LW: I don’t get up and write every day from noon to whenever. For me, once I get an idea for a song, then I’m fine, then I’m okay. It’s just a matter of time before I get in that space to sit down and thrash it out. The time to worry is when you’re NOT getting ideas or are inspired. Like the other night, we went out to see these artists who were in town at this little place called The Bootleg. We saw them, then there was this guy who played after them who we didn’t know anything about. He was really good and inspiring, it was so refreshing to be inspired by an artist. Nobody knows who he is, he doesn’t have a manager, he doesn’t have a label, and he’s playing guitar and harmonica with a vibe and a presence and something to say.

MR: What are the mechanics of your songwriting process?

LW: I get the skeletons of the songs and the melody. First, I get the idea, then I get a hook. Then I’ve got some skeleton with the lyrics, and then it’s just a matter of filling it in. You know, it’s just like journalism, I think. I approach songwriting that way.

MR: Yeah, I think you’re right on. It comes from a similar spot, it’s that same place.

LW: You know, besides being a poet, my dad was an editor. He taught creative writing, and he was my first editor. He was my first teacher, really, my mentor. When I first started writing songs, I showed him what I was doing. He taught me about the economics of writing, how not to use the same words over and over again. At a certain point, I stopped showing him everything. (laughs) When I was doing Car Wheels…, I was still showing him the songs, and I was trying to finish “Lake Charles”–I had been working on that for some months. I was trying to figure out the chorus where it says, “Did an angel whisper in your ear…,” and my dad said, “I really think you should use another word besides ‘angel.’ You’ve already used ‘angel’ in ‘Drunken Angel,’ can’t you think of something else? The ‘devil’ or something?” And I said, “Okay,” and it was back to the drawing board ’til finally I said, “I’m just going to stay with ‘angel.'” I said, “Dad, it’s just gotta be this, nothing else is gonna work,” and he said, “Okay, but you’ve used it up. You can’t use it again.” (laughs)