Quick Q and A with Vance Gilbert
 by Kathy S-B  ·  10 January 2013

I knew it could be dangerous to interview Vance Gilbert. He’s an outspoken person on and off the stage. The Fort Worth Star-Telegram got it right: “....the voice of an angel, the wit of a devil, and the guitar playing of a god.” That sums up Vance Gilbert all right. I attempted to ask some questions about race relations below and I admit . . . I come off looking like a naive and stupid white woman who has been living in a cave. Forgive me but heed what Vance has to say. If you’re not familiar with his catalog, do yourself a favor and check it out.

Do you have any favorite songs that you’ve written? If so, what is it about those songs that makes you feel so attached to them?

I’ve never sung, played, or written better than I am doing right now. It’s odd to think that such improvement can happen in the span of 5 years or so, and for a post-50 individual, but I guess I’m simply a better student of songwriting performing than I’ve ever been. So, this last few years the last song is always the one I’m closest to and, I guess, the best — for that moment anyway. The songs — well, I have been writing in such a way that I constantly dare myself to place one of my songs up against one of most anyone else’s work that I admire — Richard Thompson’s, Joni Mitchell’s, Tom Waits’, Smokey Robinson’s to extract from a monstrously long list — and I arrogantly expect to at least not look foolish. That’s where my songwriting currently has to live to come off of the notebook pages. And I think I’m wicked close. I rewrote Patty Griffins “Let Him Fly” with a second lyric from the guy’s point of view, and many have asked for the recording. I wrote an extra verse to Richard Thompson’s “Dimming Of The Day” — and absolutely no one — has noticed.

Why shoot low? To close that gap between humility and “gosh, I’ll never quite be there” is worth my potentially being seen as arrogant. So be it. If you throw no line you get no pickerel.

That said, “Unfamiliar Moon” seems to be sort of omnipresent on my and many other Vance fan lists.

You recently wrote a song called “26 Reasons” in response to the Newtown tragedy. It’s a very poignant story-song about a parent wanting to hold their child close because of the dangers outside their home. Have you gotten much reaction to this song since you released it on YouTube?

I’ve gotten some reaction. “Much” reaction? I’m not sure how relevant that question is. Did I get a lot of hits? Well, no, not like some other similarly posted yet far more amateur songs and tributes, some of which garnered 10 times the “views” that mine did. I remind us all that that sort of tribute is not a contest. . . . Did those that viewed “26 Reasons” and commented on it find it as poignant as you did and hopefully healing?

Yes, many, and still never ever enough.

I’m interested in the back story of “Old White Men.”

Why?

Is it a true story about your friendships with some old white men when you were a kid?

Of course it is and of course it isn’t. I made the song up. It’s poetry to express an idea in my brain. It would be pretty plebeian to answer whether it was real or not — simplistic really. It’s a movie put to a big poem. To honor our mentors is something we should all do at some point. To wonder whether there was an alpha situation that inspired the song is irrelevant, reductionist. Look, I don’t mean to be any more acerbic about this than I am, but do we ask if “Millworker” actually happen to James Taylor?

What’s your favorite road story about touring with comedian George Carlin?

It was an education watching George work an audience. Particularly from behind him — from the stage curtain. You can see what he sees, and it was a true schooling. He was a tireless writer, a vociferous exploiter of the First Amendment, a genius adjudicator and distiller of human experience, and he was utterly unafraid of failure. Road stories? None. There was no time. What with looking at timing, the vocal diphthong, when to growl, rhythm, collapsing time (a technique where the artist does the exact same material but manages to tweak timing in such a way that a 60 minute show ends up 48 minutes and you don’t notice), school was always in session.

Vance, you were highlighted in many news stories in 2011 because your experience with racial profiling. was an eye-opening experience. How did your experience on that flight affect your mindset about race relations in this country? [Writer’s Note: if you don’t know about the back story here, do a search for Vance Gilbert airline incident.)

Eye opening to who? I’d respectfully ask where that person has been.

See, many would view what happened as business as usual, Black President or no. That’s pretty much me. Many people also think that because President Obama is in office means that whoo hoo racism is gone.

Driving from the airport in DC that afternoon in an impromptu rental car, where I couldn’t board that next flight because they had so delayed the connecting flight that I was “questioned” on, I saw a huge billboard, in southern PA, — someone or some group spent a lot of money — questioning Obama’s citizenship, with “Show us a birth certificate.” A whole frigging billboard. How insulting is that? And please, anyone reading this, please don’t tell me that that’s not race relevant. OK, here comes a stretch, but Eisenhower is a pretty German name, you know, post WW2. No problem, no Sieg Heil worries as he went about offering help to the Middle East through the Eisenhower Doctrine, or worries about him instituting the Marshall Plan.. But Obama?

The elephant in the room is dressed all Oooga Booga with Secret Muslim Spears and loin cloths and “what will happen to our women?” And if even saying that makes us all a little uncomfortable, then good.

Look, I’m not a total cynic. Look at what I do for a living. Things are terrifically different than they were just 20 years ago. But there’s no overnight flick switch from White Hoods to a Benneton all colors commercial. We’re not there yet, I don’t care who’s in office. And I’m sure the other People of Color you’ve spoken to have said the same, right? Do I see a colorblind world one day? Hell, I hope not. We all bring so much different, good stuff to the table for the Big Life Meal. Problem is it’s the good stuff that gets overlooked.

Ellis Paul and You. There’s a seemingly unerring, ever sustained friendship. I have asked him about you. Now it’s your turn.

He is my litmus test. I judge what I do by what he has and hasn’t done, and divide by at least 2. Then you have my career. Superior poet, a true melodicist (I made that word up for him. He is it), an unendingly exploratory guitarist.

And now you’ll see the true cynic in me — not about color, race, or any of that . . . point is, I should have a very, very famous friend. It’s about timing. The “folk scene” didn’t really exist when Tracy Chapman or Suzanne Vega plied their trade at their beginnings. Then here we all come in a rush after them, mid 80’s, and we create the loving little ghetto we are, many of us carving out broader careers than others, but getting by, with Ellis at the forefront. Dan Fogelberg (RIP), Jackson Browne, Stephen Bishop, none of them from the 70’s could hold a candle to the package that is Ellis Paul. His songs are better stories than anyone who has done this — erudite, wry, wrenching. Right up there with the other underground noted writers who are at best “barely rich” like Tom Waits and Loudon Wainright III. There I go with the arrogant song placement thing again. Heed me here, he should be rich. But now there’s the Monsters Of Folk and their albums. Know who these kids are? Most over 35 don’t. Spare me. They don’t hold a candle to Ellis Paul.

I gleefully occupy his shadow.

And I hate him.

And as for friendship, he is the only one in the world I have ever told absolutely everything about me. Bar nothing.

Vance Gilbert: http://www.vancegilbert.com

Quick Q and A with Patti DeRosa
 by Kathy S-B  ·  10 January 2013

Patti DeRosa’s bio calls her genre of music “contemporary acoustic peppered with rhythm and spice.” That’s pretty accurate. Patti isn’t just your ordinary singer-songwriter; she adds various layers to her songs and therefore adds a distinctive flavor which often draws audiences into her special magical and musical place either on stage or on her recordings.

So how did you get the singer-songwriting bug?

I got my first guitar at age 13 and started writing songs immediately. I didn’t occur to me not to write! I was very much inspired by the singer-songwriters of the 60’s and 70’s — Joni Mitchell, Carole King, James Taylor, Jackson Browne, etc. so I felt the calling. Other early influences were The Beatles and Motown.

I happen to know that you experienced the Beatles in person at Shea Stadium. Was that a turning point in your life? (I’m so jealous.)

Well, I was really little when I saw The Beatles (1st grade?) and while I remember the excitement and the thrill, I don’t remember much of the details beyond the deafening screams. Ha ha. But I somehow knew to keep the ticket stub (which I have framed) and the program book (which is in excellent condition!). I would say that the evening I first saw them on the Ed Sullivan Show was a turning point for me because even at my very young age (a full year and half before that 1965 concert), I was hooked!

I love that your bio calls you an “alchemist” — someone who creates magic with music. Do you often feel that sense of magic when you’re performing?

Oh yeah, making music and performing is definitely a magical experience for me. I use the word “alchemist” because I very much try to incorporate many different musical styles and traditions into what I do. Diversity is my catchword in both my musical and other professional work as a consultant and educator (aka “day job”). People often say that they never know what is coming next when they come to my shows, and while that can present a challenge in the ‘music biz” because I defy genres and categories, I take that as a very high compliment.

I’d like to know more about ChangeWorks. What is your mission with this piece of your life?

For a long as I can remember, social justice work has called to me and my life’s work (aside from music) has been working for equity and justice, with a particular focus on anti-racism.I’ve had my own consulting firm, ChangeWorks Consulting, for over 20 years and I work with adults and youth all kinds of organizations and groups in education, health care, human services, business, community, government, you name it. Wherever I can bring people together across difference to build bridges and dismantle systems of injustice and inequity, I am there.

What are your experiences performing abroad? Do Europeans, for instance, have an impression of what American artists are like and do you feel like your performances sometimes offer them something different?

I love performing abroad. I have found audiences to be very engaged, appreciative, and eager to hear U.S. artists. They are often very knowledgeable about American music too, so throwing in some popular covers helps. At the start of my first tour abroad I noticed that I was “holding back” a bit, as I was nervous about the language barrier - no small thing when you are a songwriter! My international musician friends wisely advised me to just be myself, do my thing, and step fully present into the moment, and it was great advice. I found that folks will respond to your feeling, emotions, and musicality even if they don’t understand all the words. By my second tour, I spoke more Italian, and that helped a lot too, as I was able to introduce my songs and even make some jokes with the audience to build more rapport (this was not much of an issue in Denmark and German as so many people in those countries speak English). In addition, the venues I have played abroad have been very generous to performers in terms of hospitality, compensation, publicity, food, and lodging.

Do you have any goals that you hope to attain in the music world?

Ah, the goals question. Every day I get to perform and play music is a blessing, as I stopped performing for many, many years and just returned to the stage in 2004 (Now I cannot even imagine how I ever stopped!). At this point in my life, I would like to be able to devote more time to my music career and improving my art - writing, playing, singing, performing, touring, teaching. I would also like to meld my other skill-set of facilitator-educator-activist with my music endeavors, creating innovative shows, workshops, and classes that empower and inspire people to be the best they can be and create a more loving, peaceful world. Hmmm . . . all roads lead back to The Beatles — “All you need is love”. . . or is that “Revolution”? <3

Quick Q and A with Scott Alarik
 by Kathy S-B  ·  20 December 2012

Pete Seeger has called Scott Alarik “one of the best writers in America.” It’s true. Alarik is one of the most foremost purveyors of prose about folk music who has even put words on paper or a computer screen. Know primarily as a folk music critic and analyst, he tried his hand at writing a novel and the result was Revival: A Folk Music Novel. This book highlights the highs and lows of a seasoned musician and a brand-new-to-the-scene musician and their musical connection on and off the stage. It’s a story about the folk community, the under the radar society of people who search for the music that speaks to them — those who mine for musicians in church coffeehouses, festivals, and open mics. This is their world. This is my world.

If you haven’t read Revival, I highly recommend that you grab a copy for yourself and while you’re at it get two or three more. It’s a perfect gift for that hard-to-buy for music friend in your life.

You can find out all the important information about Revival at Alarik’s website.

Your novel, Revival, strikes a chord with music lovers of all kinds, but especially those who know and love what is referred to as the “subterranean” world of modern folk music. As someone who has written about this scene so much over the years, are you surprised that not more people have discovered the great quality of the music and the warmth and intense power of the folk community?

Folk remains a hard music to discover. Since the commercial revival of the 1960s, it’s remained outside mainstream culture. Particularly with the recent declines in newspapers, radio, and local media, folk gets less coverage than at any time I can remember, even though its popularity is on the rise. When people can find it, they like it.

That’s one reason I wrote Revival. One of the great things about fiction is that it allows us explore unfamiliar worlds in fun, human ways. I wanted to show the folk world as it exists today, to make it welcoming and accessible to new people, and to let folk fans appreciate it in new ways. It’s such a human music today, happening all over the country at vibrant community venues like me & thee coffeehouse. At one point, a character in the book reflects that “tradition is just another word for community.”

One of the great things about fiction is that you can show, not tell, as the late Bill Morrissey used to say. I wanted to reveal the folk world through characters the reader gets to know and care about. There’s such a craving today for art that’s about us, about how our lives actually feel to us. That’s still the job of folk music, just as it was in the old days. As a character says in Revival, folk’s mission, then and now, is “to make our most ordinary mornings the stuff of song.”

Revival is a love story but it’s so much more than that. I’m not a musician — merely a music fan who promotes shows and artists — but I view your book as a primer to musicians, both experienced and brand new to this world. Have you received this kind of reaction from those who have read the book?

At a folk festival, a young songwriter named Brie told me she’d given up music. Revival, she said, “reminded me why we write songs, and that it’s not about the business.” Now she’s writing songs again. I can’t imagine a better compliment. I’ve heard from many musicians who’ve told me Revival helped them understand their careers better, not only the business stuff, but the creative processes of writing songs, collaborating, working on arrangements, recording, and performing.

But I also wanted to write a novel for people who are not performers. I think the struggles of the characters can be meaningful to anybody. The main characters, Nathan Warren and Kit Palmer, are musicians at very different places in their lives. Kit’s just starting her career, and Nathan thinks he’s failed at everything. His life turned out so differently than his dreams for it, and I think that’s a struggle most middle-aged people go through.

I also think people can relate to Kit’s struggles to balance her strengths with her shortcomings, and how she wants her strong ambitions to be about more than vanity and self-interest. She wants to create a life of purpose and meaning. That’s a tension most of us wrestle with when we’re young.

Beyond that, I wanted Revival to be about the wonder of music, to explore its mystery and emotional power. What is it about music that travels so deeply inside us? Both the main characters love music in ways that transcend their careers. And in very different ways, that’s the saving grace for each of them.

I am a folksinger, songwriter, and music journalist, but writing Revival is the most musical thing I’ve ever done. Through the characters, I was able to write about the love of music, what draws us to it, the power it has to help us understand our lives and emotions in such intimate ways. There are passages about why we love sad songs so much, how we create our own meanings and memories for songs, and how music underscores the important moments in our lives. You don’t have to be a musician to understand those things.

Do you have any advice for anyone who thinks they may want to write a novel one day?

First, never name any of your drafts the “Final Draft.” I think I had nearly a dozen drafts with the word “Final” on them, including “Final Run-Through” and “Final Tweak.” A book will make up its own mind when it’s done, just like a song does.

There are many stylistic things I learned from traditional songs. They are the foundation of all our storytelling, as well as our music, so they can teach us a lot about how to describe landscape, how to use narrative to reveal character, how to employ techniques like imagery, symbolism, irony, and foreshadowing in ways that feel natural, not manipulative. Most of all, I wanted this story to be real, filled with believable events and knowable people. So there are shimmers of actual people in all the characters, but mingled together enough that none of them are recognizably any single person.

I’ve heard that it’s become a favorite road game among some performers to figure out who each character really is. Meg Hutchinson, one of my favorite young songwriters, said, “What that’s really about is that we all want to be Kit.” I loved hearing that.

Another thing I learned from music, particularly from writing songs, is to listen to the characters. There’s an amazing process in which they come to life and become real people, with their own motivations, authenticity, vernacular and ways of thinking. From then on, they will help you tell their story, if you let them. The question stopped being, “What should Nathan say here?” It became, “What would Nathan say here?” Songs do that when you’re writing them, too, so I was able to recognize it when it happened.

Finally, be prepared for an emotionally wrenching process. I really understand now why some novelists are crazy. You have to believe the story if you want anyone else to believe it. It’s very powerful to be that deeply inside stories and characters that exist only in your imagination and it can also be very painful. You spend so much time within a world that you believe and yet, that you are creating. I went into a tailspin of depression every time I finished a draft, because this real world was suddenly gone, along with all the people with whom I had been so intimately involved, and about whom I cared so much. But writing Revival was also the most artistically joyful thing I’ve ever done, and to see people taking their own joy from it is an even deeper joy.

During the writing of Revival, were you ever able to turn off the story line in your head? Were you always thinking about the characters as though they were living, breathing humans?

There were times I had to get away from it, but I never really could. The characters were so real to me, and there were times when I would miss them, or wish they were with me. I did find myself thinking, “Oh, Kit would love this,” or “I wish Nathan was here to see this.” It can be frightening to be so deeply inside your own imagination, but it’s also exhilarating.

There were times when other work took me away from the book for weeks, or even months. I would become afraid that I’d lost the thread, that the characters would be gone, no longer able to speak to me. But I’ve learned from music that art always returns to you, if you let it and are willing to humbly open yourself to it. And it always did return.

Did anything about the writing process surprise you?

I think that level of involvement surprised me. On a more practical level, I was surprised at how many rewrites it took, how much tweaking and buffing and refining. One draft was entirely focused on making sure that each character was speaking in their own voice, with their own vernacular. Another was looking for timeline inconsistencies, for anything that might happen out of time or place. So each draft got easier and more technical.

And honestly, I think the joy of it took me by surprise. It’s wonderful when imagination and your practical self are able to work side by side. And in my case, it was the first time I felt that the musician and the journalist were equal partners. Writing a novel takes you so deeply inside yourself, involving all your focus, feelings, senses, skills, and dreams. I’m sure I’m not the only writer who finishes a process like that thinking, “I’ll never do that again,” and at the same time, “I can’t wait to dive back in.”

What’s next in the creative life of Scott Alarik?

I’m working on a book that will also be about folk music, but in a very different way. During the Vietnam War, I resisted the draft and spent 19 months in federal prison. I was already a folksinger and did concerts on the compound. That helped me survive in many ways. I learned so much about the universal power of song, how it could connect me to people whose lives were so different than mine. If we are a human family, music is how we express that. It’s why I’ve never doubted the value of folk music, whether the commercial industry sees it or not. We all feel, in some ways, that music has pulled us through dark times, saved our lives. In my case, I believe that’s literally true.

Photo by Asia Kepka

Search