As was the case with many, my first encounter with DEVO was seeing the band on Saturday Night Live in October 1978. I didn’t know what to think; I was a kid, and I was confused because I had never seen nor heard anything like DEVO until that moment. Over time, I came to understand that the band was about more than music: the intersection of art, culture and politics. From your perspective, was it necessary for people to understand all that to be able to appreciate what DEVO was doing?
Mark Mothersbaugh: I felt our interest was to talk about humans as the one species out of touch with nature. But we also felt that people could get into DEVO at any different level, or not at all. To get what we were talking about across to people, we had decided it wasn’t going to be rebellion. We’d already seen the punks, and we were there for Kent State [shootings by the National Guard]. You’re seeing it happen again now all over the world: when the powers get irritated enough, they smash you and show you that you’re nothing. As was the case with many, my first encounter with DEVO was seeing the band on Saturday Night Live in October 1978. I didn’t know what to think; I was a kid, and I was confused because I had never seen nor heard anything like DEVO until that moment. Over time, I came to understand that the band was about more than music: the intersection of art, culture and politics. From your perspective, was it necessary for people to understand all that to be able to appreciate what DEVO was doing?
So we were curious: How do you change things? And we realized that elements like advertising – Madison Avenue – they change things. They got people to eat things they shouldn’t eat, buy things they shouldn’t buy, drive cars they shouldn’t drive, and be happy about it. And we thought, “It’s their techniques that allow that to happen. So what if we use their techniques for our purposes?”
And that’s what made us interested in going from being a very eccentric, far-out, kind of “Captain Beefheart meets an Italian sci-fi movie meets Sun Ra” kind of band to using some of the techniques of people like the Ramones. Because we saw that they were very succinct, and they had a message. We thought that would attract people to us rather than repel them. We [had been] playing clubs in Ohio where after the first set, people would pay us to leave! We’d be like, “Oh, we’ve got two more sets of music for you!” They’d go, “Oh, no, that’s okay. We’ve had enough. We’ll pay you the full amount – all $20 – if you just leave now.”
I discovered early ‘70s German bands like Neu!, Harmonia and Cluster years after I first heard DEVO. With the benefit of hindsight, it seems clear that you were investigating some similar musical ideas. Were you aware of those bands when DEVO started, or was some of that creativity simply in the zeitgeist?
Oh yeah, Neu!, very much so. And Cluster and Can. We were interested in what was happening in Europe in their experimental music, and even stuff that was more esoteric, like Morton Subotnick here in the U.S., and Walter/Wendy Carlos, who did maybe one of the all-time greatest soundtracks ever using Moog vocoders.
It was hard to find that stuff, though. You have to understand: It was not like now; kids have got it so easy. They just go, “Oh, what band do I like?” And then they go, “What band did they like? And what band influenced them?” And they [discover that] they like Nirvana, and that Nirvana was influenced by DEVO; they covered DEVO songs.
They can find things out a lot easier. It was harder back in the ‘60s and ‘70s. You’d go to a record store and have to fight your way through Annette Funicello cutouts and giant Frank Sinatra posters to get to rock. And then you’d have to go find one little cardboard bin where you’d find the interesting music. So Cluster – or Silver Apples – was all much more difficult to find in those days.
After a 10-year hiatus, DEVO came back in the ‘90s, and the band has been active ever since. The last studio album was Something for Everybody. It was well-received, but that was 15, 16 years ago. These days, is DEVO a live act only, or is studio work something that’s still rattling around in your heads as a possibility for the future?
We talk about it. I’m at a recording studio now; I score here every day. I write music, and I’ve been here for 35 years. And Bob Mothersbaugh is downstairs; I’m not sure what he’s doing right now, but we talk about it, and we end up writing. Bob and I recently wrote a song for Plankton: The Movie. And I’m doing something with Jack Black later this year for another Minecraft movie, I think. So we still record stuff here.
As far as DEVO doing things, I would be tickled. I’ve got a lot of music and a lot of lyrics. And it’s complicated to be an artist working with other artists. Jerry and Bob are brilliant. I’m so lucky that they’re the people that I started DEVO with. Jerry is a conceptualist, though. He thinks his art and so it doesn’t really manifest itself physically. I’m more of a guy who has to make something every day. I don’t know what the difference is, but it is a difference in styling. So it could happen.
Are you pleased with how DEVO is portrayed in the 2024 documentary?
Yeah. It’s not the documentary I would have made if I was making one. Thank God I didn’t make it, and thank God Jerry didn’t. Because he’s one of those people that creates legends in his mind and then he believes them. I love him. He’s so smart, and he was such a great guy to team up with to put this band together.
But we were lucky that Chris [Smith] saw that coming in. He held us all at arm’s length the whole time. He had official sit-down discussions with us, but he kept us out of the editing rooms, away from all that stuff. And I think the film is so much stronger because of that.
DEVO has always made intelligent use of multimedia; you’ve been doing so long before that term was even part of the popular lexicon. From where did that interest and emphasis originate?
Before we were a band, we used to try to think of what were going to be. And since we were in love with Bauhaus and Dada and surrealism, we thought, “Instead of being like a band, what if we had a Club DEVO, a place people came to, and we just did shows every night?” We thought about trying to not be a rock band, to be more of like a performance art group.
And so we were already interested in multimedia when Chuck Statler [director of 1976’s The Truth About De-Evolution] showed up in ‘74 or ‘75 with a Popular Science magazine that said, “Laserdiscs: everyone will have them by Christmas time!” We saw them: laserdiscs were the same exact size as an album, but they had not only music, they had visuals. Jerry and I met in the art department at Kent State; we were both visual artists.
And we thought, “That’s it! Sound and vision, that’s the future. Rock and roll’s dead now, because it’s turning into something else. Artists are going to take over.”
We really thought pop art was going to be something maybe a little different than MTV. They did the lowest common denominator possible, which was to make three minute ads for record companies and their bands.
There was a high quotient of insipid-ity or whatever the word is. So that was a little disappointing, but it worked; it helped us. Because by the time MTV came out, we had already made all these films of our songs. We didn’t invent that; they were doing that in the ‘40s and ‘50s.
So people were already thinking like that [before us]. But we added concepts and stories to the videos that were a little more than just the band standing on a stage with a megaphone or something, and then the horn section stands up and then sits down.
DEVO comes to the Grand Sierra Resort and Casino on April 4.
Interview with Switchfoot
Switchfoot’s Recipe for Long-term Success
By Bill Kopp
Brothers Jon and Tim Foreman launched alt-rock band Switchfoot in 1996 with drummer Chad Butler. Though the San Diego-based band got its start in the Christian rock scene, Switchfoot’s accessible musical values transferred well to the larger listening public. The band’s fourth album, 2003’s The Beautiful Letdown was a crossover smash: the record soared to the No. 1 spot on the Christian albums chart, but it also reached No. 16 on the mainstream Billboard 200. Racking up 3 million units in sales, The Beautiful Letdown earned Triple Platinum status in the U.S. Subsequent albums from the band have performed well, with sustained success across the country. Along the way, Switchfoot has earned more than 30 awards including a 2011 Grammy for Hello Hurricane. And unlike some rock acts, Switchfoot’s large-scale success hasn’t resulted in a decline in popularity among its original core fan base: to date the band has won an impressive 12 San Diego Music Awards. And as Chad Butler tells Rock On, the band’s commitment to its hometown manifests itself in other ways.
Having a song on the soundtrack of a film is often a successful way to gain a lot of exposure and score a hit. And that certainly happened with A Walk to Remember in 2002. Tell me how Switchfoot’s music found its way into that film.
Chad Butler: It is an honor for a band to have your music used in a film. It’s another visual artist appreciating a music artist and their work. It happened because we had a friend from high school, a girl named Mia, who worked for the music director for that film. She said, “I’ve got some friends from high school down in San Diego, and I thought maybe you’d want to check out their music.” She had a CD of our music and played it for him. He loved it, and he ended up putting four songs on that soundtrack in the film.
That was a big moment for us. One of my favorite memories: We got to go to the red carpet premiere at the Chinese Theater in Hollywood. They said, “You guys have a bunch of music in [the movie]. Walk down the red carpet and say hi to all the people there – publicists, people from the radio stations and TV or whatever.” And we’re walking down, and nobody had heard of us! We’re just this unknown band from San Diego. And I remember they were taking our picture, and we’re waving at the cameras, and they’re like, “Who are you?” We’re like, “We’re a band. We’re called Switchfoot.” Fast forward a year later; those songs ended up helping to get more exposure for the band. And it was a really cool thing.
In recent years, a number of artists from Taylor Swift to John Fogerty have gone back and re-recorded music from their past; sometimes entire albums. Tell me about the thinking behind The Beautiful Letdown (Our Version) that you released last year.
It was the 20th anniversary of that record, and we had some friends that had told us, “That record was meaningful; we’d love to be a part of recording a new version” of this song or that song. So we took the opportunity to go in the studio. And after playing the songs for 20 years, they evolve. The parts change, the tones change a little bit. So we wanted to [make] an updated version of the album 20 years later, but also involve all these friends who had been influenced by that record. So we had a bunch of people record their versions as well. Friends from Twenty One Pilots, Jonas Brothers and One Republic all got together and did their version of the songs, which was super fun. It was a great project.
Do you have a favorite track among the ones that the different artists did on that album?
The one that comes to mind that’s probably the most different from the original is Jon Bellion’s version of “Meant to Live.” It’s essentially just his vocal with a string section. They recorded it at Abbey Road, and it is a phenomenal version of the song. It’s beautiful; it brings me to tears.
Over the years, Switchfoot has been involved in charitable initiatives. What do you feel is the responsibility that you have to fans, to the world or beyond music?
I feel an incredible amount of gratitude for the support we were given as young musicians in San Diego. We grew up as surfers and as musicians; those were the two outlets that kept us out of trouble: surfing and music. And over the last 20 years, we’ve been able to invest in the next generation by supporting local youth charities in our hometown. They’re helping kids thrive in various ways: everything from music education to [helping] kids who are facing hunger and food insecurity; some of the most needy situations.
We had the idea 20 years ago to start a surf contest and music festival on the beach here in San Diego. It’s called the Switchfoot Bro-Am. This year will be year 22, I believe. In June every year, it’s a big party on the beach to help local kids.
Who’s headlining this year?
We never know. It’s always a surprise who shows up. We’ve had everybody from Jason Mraz and Chris Shiflett from Foo Fighters to Goo Goo Dolls and Young the Giant. Everybody jumps in; whoever’s in town and wants to be a part of it.
What can you tell me about new and upcoming music from Switchfoot?
We’re just finishing the mastering on a new album. That’ll be released later this year, so I believe, if I’m counting correctly, this will be album No. 14. Man, what a gift. When I was playing drums in my garage in high school, I never thought that this would become my life, and that music would take me around the world with my best friends. To still be making music with people I love is such a gift.
Switchfoot has won a lot of awards. Beyond the feeling of accomplishment and recognition, what do those awards mean to you?
It’s always an honor to be appreciated by any group of people. I remember the day we won a Grammy. We had been nominated a couple times, and we finally won one. We drove home that night from L.A. down to San Diego. We slept in our beds and woke up the next morning and it was kind of like, “Now what?” We’d go back in the studio and keep making new music, like we always do.
So those things are wonderful and cool moments. I think it was at that moment that my neighbors thought I finally had a real job! You know, they take you a little more seriously because they heard you won an award. But honestly, it doesn’t really change your life much. The day-to-day is still the same. We love music, we always have, and we love making music together.
Switchfoot’s lineup has held together through all these years. To what would you credit the band’s stability and longevity?
The three of us who started the band met at the beach, surfing. I think there’s something about surfing together, being friends offstage and having that connection in the ocean that’s really grounding. There’s something about being out in the ocean that makes you feel small; it’s humbling. Whether that’s in the ocean or up in the mountains or anywhere out in nature, I think it reminds you of a bigger story and how fragile and brief life is. We’ve had a motto as a band for the last 20-some years: Life is short; live it well.
Switchfoot comes to the Nugget Casino Resort in Reno on Friday, March 20.
Violent Femmes Interview
Add it Up: Violent Femmes, 40-plus Years On
-By Bill Kopp
Though guitarist and lead vocalist Gordon Gano might take issue with the label, Violent Femmes spearheaded a king of punk-folk renaissance with their debut album, 1983’s Violent Femmes. Songs like “Blister in the Sun,” “Add it Up” and “Gone Daddy Gone” – all composed by Gano – combined punk energy with a stripped-down, acoustic character that favored nuance over noise. Whether they meant to do so or not, the Milwaukee trio of Gano, Brian Ritchie and Victor DeLorenzo exerted influence, making an impact on alternative rock (or college rock, as it was then called by critics) that far outstripped the band’s record sales figures.
And the group has endured. Making subtle changes I ntheir sound yet holding true to the musical values upon which the band was founded. Violent Feemmes are still a vital live act more than four decades after they debuted on record. In a recent conversation with Rock On, Gano reflects on the band’s early breakthroughs as well as the current musical state of things for him and his Violent Femmes band mates.
I’ve heard the story about Pretenders guitarist James Honeyman-Scott supposedly discovering the band busking on a Milwaukee street corner. How much of that is truth, and how much is legend?
Gordon Gano: For most people I know, “discovery” would mean somebody was at a drugstore in Hollywood [Schwab’s Pharmacy], then they got a screen test, and then they they’re a Hollywood star; that kind of scenario.
But it’s remarkable: every time I’ve ever read [that story] being reported, it’s really true, even in a lot of its details. It was an incredible, amazing experience, but the next day, we still couldn’t get a gig anywhere! It didn’t lead directly to anything.
[Later] when we got our first album out on Slash and were playing all across the country, we had a really fun story that we could tell people about when they would interview us. But at that point, that had already happened a year or two years prior.
Yet after all these decades, we found out another aspect to it. In the last year, we met James Honeyman-Scott’s widow at one of our shows. She had some old photos from that very night, and – speaking of drugstores – she said something that I had never heard. There was a drug store right on the corner near the venue, the Oriental Theater. She had gone out to get something for her teeth, and that’s when she heard us playing on the street. She went back to the theater and got her husband to come out and hear us! I’m grateful that she was conscientious about taking care of her dental hygiene, and that she needed to get something. So there you go!
How did the band end up getting signed to Slash Records?
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Our producer and then-manager was Mark Van Hecke. He just threw himself into getting our recordings [out to prospective labels]: everybody, anybody. And then never hearing back or getting rejections from everybody we could think of. In fact, Slash had turned us down; they rejected [our demo tape] and then later came back, interested in signing us. And the reason given by Bob Biggs, the president, was that he got tired of coming into work every day and hearing his employees playing the music of the band he had rejected. I remember some years later, a couple of the people who worked there were each one thinking they were the one who really did it. I’d like to think it’s both of them.
Can you recall a particular gig that felt like a breakthrough for Violent Femmes?
Yes. We were on our first tour across the country, playing everywhere. I believe we were in Corvallis, Oregon. We were playing, and it probably took me until the second or third [song] that I put this together: “People are singing along! How is this possible? We’ve never played here before!”And then after having had that thought, I thought, “Oh, wow. We have a record out, and they must be playing it here.” College radio is really what got our band’s music around at the start, and for quite a while. And playing in Corvallis was when I realized something different had happened.
In those days, there was the idea that the Violent Femmes were pioneers of the folk punk movement. Is that how you thought of yourselves?
Well, it might be different depending on who in the band you’re talking to. For me, I never have thought of us in any kind of category. I can look at it and then think, “Yes, this does make some sense. And it could be called this for these reasons.” But even the labels have changed.
We probably thought of ourselves mostly as a punk band; that was the music – as well as lots of other things – that [bassist] Brian Ritchie and I were really into. But then not too long after we started playing, [even though] our music was exactly the same, it was being called new wave. And then at a certain point it became alternative music. And that lasted for a long time, I think.
So I’ve never thought of us in a particular [genre], except in the broadest sense. Elements of so many different kinds of stuff are an important part of how we sound and how we like to make music. There are aspects of country, aspects of jazz. But we’re not a jazz band, and we’re not a country band, even though there’s a lot of that in what we do. So in the most broad sense I think of us as a rock band. The folk punk thing, I never think about it.
One time long ago I was asked, “What do you call your music?” And this is probably a good response, or it was at the time. I said, “Well, I’ll just read the last review of us, and whatever we’re called, that’s what it is.”
The group has disbanded and reunited on more than one occasion. What keeps bringing you back?
I guess there’d be two things. One is that there’s an audience there. I can speak for myself and Brian without any hesitation: We are so committed with music, and we are involved in music all the time. Only a small part of it is Violent Femmes. A whole lot of what we do doesn’t make any money at all; nothing. And that’s fine and that’s okay. But it’s great to have something that can. And that, for us, is called Violent Femmes.
The audience is there. People want to hear it. People want to come out and see a show of us playing, which is incredible and wonderful. But if we didn’t like it – or if we thought it sounded bad – I’m sure that it wouldn’t be happening. The thing is, it sounds good.
There was a time when we thought we were done forever. But an invitation from Coachella was passed along by our agent, saying, “There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell you guys are getting together, but I gotta let you know that this is what you’re being offered.”
When we got back to play a couple of times at a rehearsal – we hadn’t seen each other in a long while outside of a non-musical setting – it was kind of amazing. It just clicked right away; it just had this sound. It has a sound when Brian and I play together. What he’s playing and how he plays, and my songs and how I’m playing, and my voice… the way it all comes together has a sound. It has an energy that we appreciate; it really does sound good to us.
Violent Femmes come to the Grand Sierra Resort on March 6
All Connected: Yes Through The Years
by Bill Kopp
The history of Yes is lengthy and byzantine. Since the progressive rock avatars began in London in 1968, more than 20 musicians have passed through its ranks. Through those changes, the successive and ever-shifting lineups of Yes have turned out a dazzling array of classic albums, earning worldwide acclaim, a Grammy Award and (in 2017) induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Today – nearly 60 years after the group’s start – guitarist Steve Howe leads the current lineup. Howe joined Yes in 1970, in time for the breakthrough release The Yes Album. Other longtime members in the current group include keyboardist Geoff Downes (first appearing on 1980’s Drama), multi-instrumentalist Billy Sherwood (on board starting in 1991) and drummer Jay Schellen (2016 onward). Vocalist Jon Davison is the band’s fourth lead singer, joining in 2012 and following on from founding singer Jon Anderson, Trevor Horn and Benoît David.
Just ahead of Yes’ current tour – which concludes with a November 16 date at The Grand Sierra Resort in Reno – Davison spoke with Rock On to talk about the band’s past, present and future.
From the times that I’ve seen the band, for the audience as a whole, there’s a list of songs that they simply must hear. How does that fact figure into the band’s mindset when it comes to writing new material? Do you find yourselves thinking, “How many new songs should we bother writing?” Because as good as they are, people want to hear “Starship Trooper.”
When we come to songwriting, we let the music write itself. There’s always a common thread that links us to the past of Yes, especially having a legacy member like Steve [Howe] so involved in the compositions. Ultimately, I think it’s about what we want to say lyrically and what we feel musically. That can be very different from traditional Yes, and I think that’s a healthy thing. Because whenever you try to recapture the past, you’re just imitating. So [instead] we think, “Let’s just move forward and create music that’s reflective of who we are today.”
2023’s Mirror to the Sky earned some of Yes’ best critical reviews of the last several years. With that kind of wind at your back, what can you tell me about the prospect of new studio music from Yes going forward?
We are working on music all the time. Steve is so comfortable in the producer chair. We’ve got an excellent engineer, the great Curtis Schwartz. I live in England, so Steve and I can get together with Curtis a lot of the time. So we’re keeping this comfortable creative flow going.
We’re writing and wrapping up an album now; it should come out, I think, around April of next year. It will have the same sort of flow and ebb of Mirror to the Sky and The Quest, the album just before it. But it’s also very different, which is exciting because it shows that we are continuing to evolve.
Do you have a favorite song from the Yes repertoire?
Wow. I love so much of it, but I tend to get sentimental about the songs we haven’t played for a while. So I’m really missing doing “Awaken.” I don’t often listen to Yes, I confess, just purely as a listener. Growing up, being a fan and loving it so much, it was the music I always listened to. But somehow being in the band, it’s a different kind of perspective, so I don’t find myself gravitating to just being a listener of Yes. And I miss that. So it’s fun to go back and think, “What’s something we haven’t played, or what’s a song or album I haven’t thought of for a while?” So currently it’s [1977’s] Going for the One and songs like “Awaken.” I love that song, and I would love to be able to perform it again. And I think we will, coming up here soon.
The band has done a number of tours focusing on a specific album; this tour it’s going to be Fragile. In all the years that you’ve been with the group, is there anything from the back catalog that you’ve never done live?
That’s a good question! Yeah, some of the stuff from the first couple albums. I will say that Steve has really supported those albums; we’ve done some one-offs that are really interesting, like “Survival” [from 1969’s Yes] and “Sweet Dreams” [from 1970’s Time and a Word]. Those are songs that haven’t seen the light of day – as far as being performed – in forever. It’s hard to imagine, but there are so many. There are some great moments on [1978’s] Tormato, too, and we’re looking at that album.
I would love to have the band look more laser-focused on Relayer [1974]; as you mentioned, we’ve been doing the album series, but that’s one that we haven’t quite taken on. We actually had that slated for an entire tour; the tour book was printed, we were all worked up and ready to go, and then Covid hit. And that shut everything down. And then through time and working with new material and having a reset, we’ve gone in different directions. But I think it’s time to get back and really look at Relayer.
After all these decades, what do you think explains the enduring appeal of Yes and the band’s music?
In this day and age, everything’s so immediate; people want it quick. And there’s great production skill and vocal harmony skill in so much songwriting today; I’m not knocking it; I love all kinds of music. But there’s also this wave of pop music [being] almost like a TV commercial: it’s all instantaneous. As Freddie Mercury used to say, pop music’s just disposable tissue; you use it, discard it and forget it. So there is that element to it.
[As far as Yes,] I think there’s so much to it. I think that having a pure album experience – one that takes you on a journey, that’s very thoughtful, that’s imaginative storytelling – is very refreshing to people. There’s all the virtuosity that draws people in, but it’s also John Anderson’s beautiful melodies, which are to the level of the Beatles. There’s that wonderful quality, the melodic quality. I was just talking to someone about “Long Distance Runaround” [from Fragile] and how we hadn’t played it for so long. It’s such a joy to sing; it’s such a gorgeous melody when you analyze the flow of it and how it builds. It’s as great as any melody that’s out there.
I think there are all those elements in Yes. In classic rock, there’s an equality among all the musicians. Chris Squire made a statement. As much as Jon did, as much as Steve did, as much as Rick [Wakeman] did. You could be a keyboard player and a huge fan of Rick Wakeman alone and understand Yes. But you had all those avenues, and it’s a complete picture, and that’s just something that’s classic and timeless. Much like classical music, it will never die, and for the very same reason.
Thanks for taking time to speak with me today, and thanks for the music.
It’s been an absolute pleasure to talk to you. We’re having a great time out here on the road, as are the fans, and it’s all good. All is well in the Yes world.
Colbie Caillat: A Sustained Overnight Sensation
By Bill Kopp
The term “overnight sensation” describes a phenomenon that rarely ever happens. But to some degree it applies to Colbie Caillat. She seemingly came out of nowhere, becoming a bona fide success on MySpace, landing a record deal and releasing a blockbuster debut album, 2007’s Coco. Caillat would go on to a successful and sustained career, with her gentle folky pop earning her a legion of dedicated fans. In recent years, her musical journey has taken her toward country music, and her most recent release, This Time Around finds her teaming up for an album’s worth of duets.
Caillat’s current tour is a joint effort with Gavin DeGraw; the pair covers Post Malone’s “Circles” on the new disc. In a recent conversation with Rock On, Colbie Caillat discussed her start in music, her breakthrough, her songwriting process, how she deals with stage fright and much more.
Your dad is Ken Caillat. As a child, how aware were you of your father’s work as a Grammy-winning record producer and engineer for artists like Fleetwood Mac, Michael Jackson and Warren Zevon?
I was aware music was in our house. We had a [studio] mixing console on our pool table in the living room. There was always music blasting out of the speakers. I would [often] get to go to the label or to the studio and hear about all of it. I always loved Fleetwood Mac. I’d hear their music in places, and I was like, “Oh, that’s so cool. My dad worked with them!”
Did your father’s work in the world of music influence your own path as an artist?
It helped give me the tools to really home in on my love of singing. Early on, my parents could tell that I had a good voice, and then once they knew that was something I was passionate about – I wouldn’t stop singing all over the house – they were like, “Wow. If you want to do this, you should. Why don’t you take piano lessons, guitar lessons and vocal lessons?” So because I had the interest and the talent, they gave me the tools to progress with it. They gave me those tools, but they didn’t give me any connections. After that, it really all happened [via] MySpace.
You’ve said that Lauryn Hill’s performance in the 1993 film Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit was a turning point for you; tell me about that.
You know, it’s such a small part of the movie, and she’s only singing part of the song! But her voice is so beautiful and soulful and effortless; when she sings that part, it’s like this pent-up [urge], like she’s afraid to sing. She’s not allowed to sing at home, and then she gets to be in her own world. That was something I really related to, because I didn’t really want to sing in front of people. She thought she was alone, at the piano just really singing her heart out. And I resonated with all of it and how it felt when she was just releasing that feeling, free and in her own world. That was something that really inspired me.
Tell me about your experiences auditioning in the early 2000s for American Idol.Oh, gosh. It wasn’t something I wanted to do. I got encouraged by my friends in high school and from my parents. But I was nervous; I didn’t really want to be on the show. I have stage fright. But when you’re encouraged to do something, you take people’s advice. But I wasn’t ready for something like that.
So I auditioned. We camped out overnight. You have to wait in line with thousands of people, so that’s what I did. I was so shy and quiet and timid, and my outfit was horrible. It wasn’t a good fit at all, but now it’s an experience to talk about.
How did you overcome that stage fright?
It was a really long process; it took many years. I would sing with my eyes closed and not talk or acknowledge the audience. I had a therapist out on the road. At one point, I had a coach out on the road; she would actually talk in my [in-ear monitors] and tell me what to say, because I was so introverted and inexperienced with performing. So she helped me lean into that.
And over the years of having done it so much, learning the techniques and feeling more confident, she also taught me: “Before you go on stage, get calm and centered and tell yourself five great things about yourself – whatever they may be – just to make you feel grounded.” Now I think my performing has transitioned; I’m very honest with people on stage. At the beginning, I was taught to really hide that I was introverted, to hide that I had stage fright. And that made me feel even more terrified!
Once I wrote my song “Try,” and I started explaining the song to the audience, they loved it. And I was like, “Oh, I can tell you that I’m scared.” It freed me from all of that.
You mentioned MySpace. When MySpace launched, it was touted as the Next Big Thing for artists. But for most of them, it wasn’t. Yet it worked for you in 2005. Why?
You know, it’s so interesting how so many things can line up to make something happen. I think it took so many different people and timing of things that aligned that way. But overall, what I’m most grateful for with MySpace is that fans got to choose the songs, and they chose my music. It wasn’t a label pushing a song out to radio. It was truly fans who heard it randomly from someone else’s page, and then added it to theirs; it was their choice. And they helped build my career. That feels so much more meaningful to me. I [still] meet those people at meet-and-greets, the first people who started listening.
But that’s how it happened.
Your first album went triple-Platinum; Coco was a success all around the world. That’s pretty amazing for a debut release. Did that success catch you off guard?
It all caught me off guard. It happened so fast, I really couldn’t keep up with any of it. There was MySpace, I became the number one unsigned artist, and then I got a record deal. And then months later, I went on tour with the Goo Goo Dolls, and then doing TV and then traveling the world for two years. Every moment was like, “I can’t even comprehend what’s going on!”
It was a lot to take in because it happened so fresh for me. I wasn’t one of those artists that had been doing it for years, trying to “make it.” It just literally happened, and I had no preparation. So I think it was a harder experience for me than, for other people. You have to just go with it: “I have this opportunity that people are dying for and waiting for; I have to go with it. It doesn’t matter how unprepared I am.” You say yes.
One of the adjectives that’s used to describe your music is relatable. Do your early songs still resonate with you? Do they mean the same thing to you now that they did when you wrote them?
No, they don’t. That’s something else that I’ve really been enjoying. Sometimes it hits me on stage; I’m singing “Realize,” and I’m like, “This is making me think about this person right now, someone I’m dating.” Or another song makes me think of something a family member is going through. It can either be really uplifting, or it can be emotional and heavy. And I’ve found that a lot of the songs have new meaning [connected] to whatever I’m currently experiencing.
What can audiences expect at this upcoming run of dates including the Reno show?
Well, Gavin [DeGraw] and I are going to be singing Christmas songs, and songs of ours that people may know from over the years. We’re going to be singing together; we’re sharing a band and a stage and everything.
I’ve played in Reno so many times. My grandparents used to live there, and they would always come to my show, so it’ll be good to be back.
Let’s go way back. What was your introduction to the blues? And did it come before the Paramounts and Procol Harum?
I’ve got a feeling I was already in the Paramounts when I first heard B.B. King’s “3 O’Clock News.” I think that was the introduction. And then I just started hunting out more stuff from there.
Was the blues your favorite and preferred style of music from the very beginning?
Well, up to that point, I’ve been very much a rock ‘n’ roll fan. As I say, after I started to get into BB King, then I looked around and found other people: Howlin’ Wolf, Muddy Waters.
You began having co-writing credits with Procol Harum around the time of 1969’s A Salty Dog. Did you have to push to be involved in the group’s writing, or was it welcomed?
It was usually Gary [Brooker]’s idea that I come up with something, just as a different sort of string to the band’s bow, as it were.
Procol Harum released your song “Whisky Train” as the single off of the 1970 album Home. That track seemed to hint at the direction that you’d follow in your solo career. Arguably, it fits into your body of work far more than it does into the Procol Harum catalog. Was there a specific moment during your time in the band at which you realized, “I really need to go my own way, go solo”?
I think it was when I was starting to write a bit more on Broken Barricades [1971]. I started to realize I was coming up with a lot of guitar-based songs, and that there wasn’t really space in Procol Harum for it all. So I would have to do my own thing, have my own band.
You mentioned Broken Barricades. My favorite performance by you during your years in Procol Harum is “Simple Sister.” That song has a very strong, sharp riff, and it also has the Procol Harum progressive, semi-orchestral approach. The song is credited to Brooker and lyricist Keith Reid; did you have a hand in writing that song’s signature guitar part?No, no. That was Gary’s song. And I really love the music.
Your 1973 album Twice Removed From Yesterday was a very strong debut, and it received very positive reviews. Yet it it didn’t really sell in great numbers. Did that muted success concern you at the time, a sort of, “Oh, what have I done?”
No, not at all. I mean, I was selling records, never mind about how many! It was good.
Your solo career did truly take off with 1974’s Bridge of Sighs and For Earth Below [1975].Were you at all surprised at the commercial success of those albums?
I think I was, a little bit. I think we all knew when were recording Bridge of Sighs that it had a real potency, but you can never tell how people will take to it, you know. So yeah, I think it was a bit of a surprise.
For Earth Below has just recently been reissued in expanded form, with bonus tracks, outtakes, alternates and a complete live show. It’s a really nicely put together package. How involved do you get in those expanded reissue-type projects?
The only thing I do… I have to pass everything new that they’re they’re adding. I have to hear it and pass it. Otherwise they put it all together at Chrysalis Records. And I think they do an excellent job.
Are there more such projects in the pipeline?
Yes. I think they’re wanting to do a reissue of the original live album [1976’s Robin Trower Live! recorded in Stockholm, Sweden]. So that should be interesting, with a remix.
After years with James Dewar on bass, did you change your approach to playing guitar at all when you made the two albums – 1981’s B.L.T. and Truce from ‘82 – with former Cream bassist-vocalist Jack Bruce?
No, I don’t think I did. I think my approach has always been that I’m trying to move forward and be creative. Working with Jack was different, but I don’t think it really changed anything about my own style.
Did that trio – you, Jack Bruce and drummer Bill Lordan – every play any live dates?
No, we didn’t. We talked about it, but by the time the second one was out, I was already moving on, thinking I’d like to try something else.
When you write lyrics, from where do you draw your lyrical inspiration?
I think it’s genuine creativity. I think that reading a lot gives you vocabulary; maybe phrases and stuff like that. But I think it’s just the blessing of creativity, really.
On your new album Come and Find Me, “Tangled Love” is certainly a standout track with Jess Hay’s lead vocal. To my knowledge, other than Sari Shore’s work on 2023’s Joyful Sky, it’s one of the few times that you’ve recorded with a female vocalist…
That’s right.
The female voice is a different instrument than the male voice. Does working with a female singer call upon or inspire you to bring a different approach to your playing?
To be honest, if it had been Richard [Watts] singing them, I don’t think I would play it any different. It’s just [about] choosing the right material I’ve written that I think might suit a female voice; that’s really the key. Obviously, on lots of [songs with a female singer] I have to play in a different key than they were written in. So that’s a sort of compromise.
Your guitar work is so fluid and precise. Do you practice?
Yeah, every day.
What is your practice regimen like?
Oh, I just basically doodle and try and come up with new songs as well at the same time. I’m always looking for new ideas on the lead stuff that gives me a little sting in the heart. And I have to play every day, because otherwise I lose my calluses. That’s a big deal.
What inspires you to keep recording and playing live after all these many years?
Well, I love it! I love playing the guitar, I love doing shows, and I love being in the studio. While I keep writing new material, I have to keep recording. And the natural follow-on from that is to play live as well.
What’s in the future for you after this run of live dates?
Well, I’ve got a live album coming out. It’s taken from the U.S. tour that we’ve just done. And I’m very happy with that. And in the new year, I’m going to finish off another studio album. So there’s a lot in the pipeline.
Robin Trower comes to Harrah’s Lake Tahoe on Friday, Sep. 26.