Getting to Know. . . PAUL CURRERI
 by Kathy S-B  ·  9 June 2007

I’m taking this opportunity to highlight Paul Curreri. I recently heard Paul Curreri and his wife, Devon Sproule, being interviewed on WUMB when they were in town to play Club Passim and I became intrigued with the music and ran home and threw the CD that Paul had sent me into my player. I then checked out Paul’s press package and his delightful website and immediately fell in love with his biographical timeline and the way he expressed himself. The added treat of it all is that his music rocks. Take a listen!

I read in the liner notes that you recorded The Velvet Rut in your home studio and played all the instruments yourself?

Yeah. Honestly, the whole record was almost an accident. When my wife, Devon Sproule, is away on tour, I find myself walking from room to room, guitar slung around my shoulders, just doo-dahing. It’s probably the closest I get to what other folks call ‘meditating.’ But come evening, if the day’s main guitar lick or melody is still buzzing in my ear, the lonely microphones start looking at me funny. And that’s when a certain panic sets in. It’s that panic revolving around the possibility that the inspiration might disappear any second. So I go go go, scribbling lyrics that I believe, muscling mic stands, overdubbing pianos that sound right, banging on a snare drum, using this big cardboard box for a bass drum. It’s really a manic scene, but it’s so beautiful and focused. I get emotional talking about it, really.

So, one evening, it just dawned on me that I’d recorded about 30 of these blasts in the past 3 months, and I got to wondering if there might be a record in there. It’d never occurred to me! Turns out there was indeed, and a real cohesive record at that. So I selected about 12 of them and set to tightening the screws — adding stuff, subtracting nonsense. . . the usual mixing process.

At a certain point, I realized that I had to decide whether or not to bring in other folks. Charlottesville’s got some holy moly players! In the end though, the can of worms just stayed shut. The record’s called The Velvet Rut, which also happens to be a nickname for Charlottesville — a beautiful, soft, loving r-u-t. That phrase seemed to resonate elsewhere in my life, and lo and behold, the songs’ orbits were tight around the premise, too. I don’t usually work too well with manifestos, but it seemed that it was my solemn duty — hardy har — to adhere to the solitary elements of the theme in as many ways as possible. And. . . so. . . I. . . did.

Was this your first jump into producing?

Well, no, but this is the first I’d done for myself, entirely BY myself. My name’s been on the back of a few of my other releases, but there were always other folks helping… Jeff Romano (http://greenwoodstudio.com/) of Greenwood Studio…. Kelly Joe Phelps (http://www.kellyjoephelps.com) did one. But in the past year or so, I’ve been lucky enough to be invited to produce records for other folks. In addition to a couple duet cds I helmed for Devon and myself, I made a record for an NYC songwriter named Andy Friedman. I’m just starting his new one, actually. Danny Schmidt’s coming back to the studio next month to finish a record we started last fall. And I’m 90% finished an album for this amazing band out’ve Birmingham, England called DON’T MOVE!

Speaking of England, I see you’re about to head back across the pond for The Velvet Rut’s UK release?

I don’t think the record will be out in the states till late September, but yeah, it’s coming out over there on Tin Angel Records in mid-June. I’ve been going to England every four months for about 3 or 4 years now. From the first note of the first show way back when, I knew I’d found something special over there. It rains like hell, and the people hunch their shoulders, and the food is absolutely horrendous of course, but man oh man, the folks over there make me feel so unbelievably welcome. The bulk of the credit for what success I’ve had over there goes to my UK manager, Richard Guy. He’s one of the most charming and intelligent people I’ve ever met. Plus, he lets me stay in his guest room.

Sounds like things are going pretty well then?

I can’t complain. Well, no, I can complain, but I try not to. My guitar’s on my lap as I type this to you. And I slept till 10 today and nobody said nothing about it. Last night I drank Amstel Light at a bar with friends and we laughed our asses off. And my wife really loves me, and I love her and am proud of her and us. And despite anything I could bitch about — from the occasional venue owner, to heartache, to tires blowing in rental cars when I didn’t pay the $9/day tire insurance — somehow enormous rooms of magic — of real emotion and beauty — constantly remain at arm’s reach, and I’m allowed to visit almost anytime I want. It’s a goddamn honor.