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Monday, December 7, 2009
‘Crazy Heart’ a fitting Bruton epitaph
When Stephen Bruton was too sick, too weak from cancer to deal with airports and commercial flights, T-Bone Burnett, his friend of 45 years, hired a private jet to fly the Austin songwriter/ guitarist to Los Angeles to finish work on “Crazy Heart,” the film that opens Dec. 16 in just enough theatres to get Jeff Bridges an Oscar nomination for best actor. Bruton passed away in May, just days after the film’s music was finished.
Bruton’s contributions were not merely token, however. He co-wrote many of the key songs in the film, including “Hold On You,” “Somebody Else,” “Fallin’ and Flyin’,” “I Don’t Know” (all sung by the Jeff Bridges character Bad Blake) and “Gone, Gone, Gone” performed by Colin Farrell’s character, a former Blake protege turned country superstar. The tunes sound like the former hits the movie made them out to be.
The soundtrack will be released on CD by New West on Jan. 19.
Although Bridges looks an awful lot like Bruton’s longtime friend/boss Kris Kristofferson, his character seems based more on Billy Joe Shaver, back before he was born again. With more than a little Waylon thrown in. Shaver’s friend and admirer Robert Duvall has a relatively small part in the film, but delivers an a capella “Live Forever” during a key scene.
A simple description of “Crazy Heart” is that it’s the part of “Tender Mercies,” the set up, that you don’t see. Blake is a hard-drinking has-been with no direction until he meets a single woman and her young son, but there’s a twist here.
Don’t want to spoil anything, but when this movie comes around, you’re gonna want to wait until the very end, after the credits, for a chicken skin moment.
Ryan Bingham sings theme song on ‘Crazy Heart’
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Preview: Graham Weber CD release at Cactus Cafe
Graham Weber slices life with a poet’s precision. The 29-year-old’s cleanest cuts (“Oh Roberta,” “Baltimore”) mirror the best: Opening three weeks ago, Weber clearly captivated legendary tunesmith Guy Clark’s discerning audience at the Texas Union Theater. “It definitely was inspiring and a real honor to play with Guy,” Weber says. “His crowd is really open to listening to lyrics, which is where I try to live.”
The Austin transplant, whose new “The Cactus Sessions: Live and Unreleased ’08-’09” spotlights both charm and craft, hosts a free CD release party Wednesday at the Cactus Cafe.
American-Statesman: How did Slaid (Cleaves) covering your ‘Oh Roberta’ (on Cleaves’ 2006 album ‘Unsung’) impact you?
Graham Weber: Well, it kept me playing the song a lot more, especially when I was touring with him. It helped me out a lot, because it gave me a lot of credit with his crowd and people who listen to Texas (songwriters). It’s the only song I’ve ever made any money on from royalty checks, but not a lot. It’s helped keep gas in the car.
Is it fair to say that Slaid has been a mentor since you moved from Ohio?
Absolutely. I’d opened for him in Pittsburgh before my wife and I moved. When we got down here, he called me and had me play a set break for him at the Cactus. I didn’t really know the guy then, but he liked a couple songs that I’d done in Pittsburgh. He opened the door and vouched for me, and getting me into the Cactus helped quite a bit. He’s taken me on the road a couple times now.
Have you two collaborated at all?
We don’t really write together, but I usually bounce stuff off him. He doesn’t always like what I’m doing, and that’s fine. He’s very honest with me, and he’s a really good sounding board. He doesn’t (expletive) me or mince words, that’s for sure (laughs). He’s been a big supporter. He and his wife are the closest thing that we have to family here.
Your stage delivery — especially the long stories between songs — directly recalls Todd Snider. How did you develop that style?
It’s funny you say Todd, because I pretty much started my career by trying to rip him off! I’ve told him that. The first time I saw Todd was when I was living in L.A., and I wasn’t playing music. He was playing at a guitar shop down the street by my house. I loved it. It was the first time I’d seen anything like that: It’s a show. When I was in L.A., I was an actor doing improv with the Groundlings and things like that. I like talking to people and telling stories.
Do you draw on any others?
When Todd’s on, he’s the best. Hayes Carll’s really good. John Prine’s awesome. As a writer and a fan, I like to hear a little bit of background (between songs). When I was putting this live record together, I got really conscious about it, because I think I talk too much between songs. I know I talk too much!
It does tie the show together well, though.
If you can make them laugh and then play the saddest (expletive) song in the world, you really give that range of emotion. Hopefully they come away satisfied with how they spent their evening.
The story behind ….
Graham Weber tells the story behind ‘License Plate Eyes,’ from his new album ‘The Cactus Sessions: Live and Unreleased ’08-’09’
“Matt the Electrician told me about this thing that Bob Schneider started. It was an e-mail ring where someone would send out a phrase, and then everyone would write a song with that phrase somewhere in the song. I think it was a writing exercise for these guys. I never ended up getting into their ring, but Matt told me one night and I tried to do it.
“I came up with this scenario of this woman who coasted through life resting on the laurels of her jaw, you know. I grew up in the suburbs, where you can peg a trophy wife, a gold-digging chick who’s followed the path described in that song. I was sitting on my back porch when I was writing it, and I got a little perverted streak in me, I guess. I came up with (some lines) and thought, ‘Nobody’s ever used that line before!’ Probably for good reason!
“The other thing about that song is that I’d never put it on a studio record. It’s pretty goofy, and it’s pretty foul. I mean, when I give this new album to my one remaining grandparent in Indiana, I’m definitely not putting that song on there.”
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Black Joe Lewis goes to the land down under
Hard-living, hard-playing Austin soul star Black Joe Lewis has plenty in common with obvious inspiration James Brown — the boisterous horn section, the sexual swagger, the on-stage self-confidence and, perhaps most importantly, the famously tireless work ethic.
The garage soul man has played a staggering number of dates alongside backing band the Honeybears in 2009 and doesn’t look to be slacking off any next year. The band just announced a spring 2010 tour that includes four Australian dates before a succession of February and March shows throughout North America — including a March 27 appearance at Emo’s.
The octet’s next local gig is headlining New Year’s Eve at Stubb’s.
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Mockery of Washington Post’s Public Enemy flub continues on Twitter
This correction, which appeared Dec. 3 in the Washington Post, spread around the internet like the proverbial wildfire last week.
Let’s reprint it here: “A Nov. 26 article in the District edition of Local Living incorrectly said a Public Enemy song declared 9/11 a joke. The song refers to 911, the emergency phone number.”
Ouch.
Over the weekend, #washingtonpostcorrections debuted as a hashtag on Twitter. Yep, it’s a meme now.
OUCH.
A few selected entires:
“George Clinton has assured us his roof remains intact, and he takes fire safety quite seriously.”
“The gas face is not a symptom of anthrax poisoning.”
“Eye witnesses place Sir Mix A Lot’s Posse at the corner of Rucker and 41st Street NOT on Broadway as reported”
“Manuel Noriega doesn’t actually owe Rick Ross any favors.”
“It is not all about benjamin harrison (sic), our 23rd president.”
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Interview: 311 (playing Austin Music Hall Tuesday night)
Tim Mahoney is always and forever conscious of his fans.
Speaking by phone from Dallas on Saturday afternoon, the guitarist for the multiplatinum alternative rock band 311 is prepping to make the kickoff for the University of Texas and University of Nebraska-Lincoln game alongside band mates Chad Sexton and S.A. Martinez.
But he’s quick to qualify the Omaha, Neb.-born band’s love for the Cornhuskers the moment he twigs to the fact that he’s speaking to an Austin paper.
“Oh man, we’ve made friends with Major Applewhite. Other than when we play Texas I’m always a big fan of Texas teams,” offers Mahoney. “I’m a huge Pantera fan and they come from Texas. Outside of Nebraska I do like Texas a lot!”
That gesture seems less about calculation and more about inclusiveness — few bands that sell their numbers have a more intimate relationship with their fan base than 311. The last thing Mahoney wants to do is alienate any of the fans he’ll be playing for at Tuesday’s show at the Austin Music Hall.
Now Los Angeles-based, the quintet, long famous for incorporating scattered bits of rap, ska and reggae into their radio-friendly waves of guitar, post the set list to every show online and have participated in video chats with their fans. They even host an annual event, 311 Day — held, naturally, on March 11 — where thousands of fans journey from around the world to see the band play a concert that lasts upwards of five hours and 60 songs. As you might predict, lasers are involved. For the band, says Mahoney, that level of fan interaction is one part mutual love fest and one part job security.
“The fact that we can still make records and go out and play live and have an interaction like that is because of the fans. Because every night even if some of the songs are the same it’s still just a moment that only exists right there and then. And to have that energy and shared moment of a celebration with a like-minded group of people is a pretty amazing thing,” says Mahoney. “And basically, especially nowadays, the hardcore fans of a band support them. We never take that for granted.”
Nearly two decades ago, when 311 was just emerging from the musical primordial ooze of the barely extant Omaha scene, that wasn’t the case. Playing to crowds of thousands was a pipe dream for Mahoney when he joined the still-young band in 1991, replacing original guitarist Jim Watson.
The band self-released three albums before packing its bags and moving to Los Angeles. They toured relentlessly, contending with an apathetic mainstream press and an RV fire that destroyed their gear. At one point they moved all their belongings into storage and simply lived on the road, reasoning that most of their time was spent on tour anyway.
When the band did find success, it was substantial — 1995’s self-titled album, often called the “Blue Album,” eventually went triple-platinum, with single “Down” reaching No.1 on the Billboard modern rock chart. A series of commercially successful albums followed, and the band refused to slack off on touring, playing a series of amphitheater dates every summer.
With a dozen studio albums under their belt, the band has an extensive back catalogue to mine for live shows, an effort Mahoney says they make every time, even if the sound has changed a bit.
“We try to tailor the set more to songs that we haven’t played in a long time that probably are more challenging to play live. And maybe things die-hard fans would love,” says Mahoney. “When I look back I wouldn’t want to change how any of those records sound, but we definitely talk about how it would sound if we recorded the older material now. Because you hopefully, as a band, grow over time. And it sounds different now because we were more like crusty young punks with a lot of energy then. You hope you don’t lose that as you get older but it’s an inevitably that you evolve.”
Evolution was a key theme on their most recent release, this year’s optimistically titled and lyrically positive “Uplifter.” Seeking a change after four years without an album release — by far the biggest break in the prolific band’s career — they sought out producer Bob Rock. With a name like that, it’s no surprise that Rock’s resume includes a who’s who of renowned acts: Metallica, Motley Crue, the Offspring, Bon Jovi and Aerosmith, among others.
“He’s just a solid guy. I remember the first thing he said to me was ‘For me, it’s just about doing the work. There’s no Bob Rock sound. I just want to help you guys make a great album,’” says Mahoney. “So just his taste in everything was smart, really, because he’s been doing it so long, everything from rock to Michael Bublé.”
Nearly two decades into his tenure with the band, Mahoney seems as enthused about 311’s prospects as ever. Maybe that’s because the band has the money to give each other the kind of space that makes touring comfortable — they split two buses, with Mahoney traveling with drummer Chad Sexton and his bulldog, Zoe. That can’t hurt a touring band’s morale. Just as importantly, though, they’ve managed to keep a healthy respect — for each other, for their music and for their fans.
“We’re friends, and I think we all respect each other and respect each other’s songwriting. And having to all travel together in our RV early on, and having to share a house, we got on it pretty quick in terms of knowing how to coexist and respect each other’s space,” Mahoney says. “And I think everyone enjoys what they do. We’re about ready to turn 20 now and it’s amazing. We’re real fortunate to get to still be playing music.”