On every one of her albums, Amy Speace has bared her soul and heart in powerful and emotionally visceral songs. Not only does Speace have her way with a story, but she possesses the gift of transfixing listeners with her tales and pulling them into the story; much like the Wedding Guest in Coleridge’s famous tale, “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” we’re powerless before Speace as she spins her mesmerizing sagas of loss, world-weariness, love, and hope, but when we reach the end of the tale we’re touched, we’re troubled, we’re joyous, we’re hopeful, and we know we’ve been in the presence of someone whose pure soul has burned a hole in our very being with its utter honesty and sheer vulnerability.
OnThat Kind of Girl, Speace rises to the height of her tale-telling powers, in large part because she’s telling stories on herself, looking deep inside to see where’s she’s come after a passionate, heart-wrenching relationship now ended and as she picks up the shattered pieces of her heart and self. It’s all here: that first intimation that no matter how overwhelming the passion for any other person might in fact be, there’s a nagging feeling pulling on the heart that keeps saying “Nothing Good Can Come From This”—the sedate jazz shuffle of the album’s opening song itself captures that soul-rending feeling of the beauty of a night in which this insight rears its head; the recognition that you’ve given into a passion or a love that doesn’t return your own passion and the realization that I can do “Better Than This”: “I can do better than a half-kiss/I can do better than a near miss”; the final admission that no matter how troublesome and destructive a relationship might be there’s the “I-can’t-quit-you” feeling deep in your heart that Speace expresses in the album’s closing song, “I Don’t Know How to Stop Loving You.”
Speace has assembled an all-star cast of musicians to accompany her on this journey: producer Neilson Hubbard joins her on drums, Will Kimbrough and Carl Broemel (My Morning Jacket) on guitars, Eamon McLoghlin on strings and mandolin, Danny Mitchell on keys and horns, and Dean Marold on upright bass. The musical styles range from the swampy gospel blues of “Three Days,” a parable of death and resurrection—you have to be covered in dirt, go through the death of whatever is close to you, before you can rise again—and the Celtic-inflected “Hymn for the Crossing,” a joyous shout that is both a send-off from this life and an affirmation of the singer’s love for the departed soul to the barnyard reel of “In Chicago” and the show tunes, “Trouble Looks Good on You,” and “Raincoat.”
I had a chance to catch up with Amy Speace by phone a few weeks ago and chat about her new album as she was headed to Florida to head out on a week-long cruise with Jim Lauderdale and others.
Henry Carrigan: How did this album come about? Tell me the story behind it.
Amy Speace: I’m always in the process of writing songs. I was definitely on the other side of a breakup and looking back, and I knew I was writing at that narrative. I challenged myself to write myself into it and try to get some healing and at the same time look at the messiness of it. Love is not a linear game, and these songs teach me how to heal. I knew if I put out another album that it would be naked and vulnerable. As I once heard Mary Gauthier say—and I’ve really embraced her words as my own—we write songs from our wounded selves so that we can allow that we can allow them to heal. The whole record was about this breakup. That’s the story of this album.
How did you select the songs for the album?
We only left about three or four songs on the floor. This is pretty emotional, deep record, and the songs that are here are the ones that express the immediacy of my feelings. Neilson Hubbard, who’s my musical soulmate, recognized that the songs on the album—from the opening track, “Nothing Good Can Come From This” to the closer, “I Don’t Know How to Stop Loving You”—formed the arc of a story, and he told me “let’s do this.” So, over three days we got together in the studio, played each song live in one or two takes, capturing the emotional depth and the rawness and vulnerability of the songs.
You’re s songwriter’s songwriter. What’s your approach to writing songs?
Thanks. It’s part alchemy and part craft. I think of writing a song as a transcription from the gods. I might have a snippet of an idea, but then I get out of the way. The craft enters once the transcription is finished; it’s whittling down the wood. Songwriting is the most painful, the hardest thing I do, and I love it.
When did playing music and writing songs?
I started playing music when I was about 3, but I didn’t put songwriting and playing music and performing until I was 29 or 30. Once it started coming, I started listening to Lucinda Williams, John Prine, and Guy Clark and learned so much from them.
Who are your three greatest songwriting influences? Musical influences?
Bob Dylan and Guy Clark without a doubt are two major songwriting influences. Joni Mitchell—it’s why I wanted to do this. As for musical influences, I’d start with Stephen Sondheim; musically he soars. Leonard Bernstein; Billie Holiday, just because of her phrasing. While we were making the album, we even used a rented mic that Billie Holiday and Etta James once used.
Who are some of your favorite authors?
Flannery O’Connor; I’ve been reading Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch, and trying to get into it; it’s not been easy, but I love what she does with language in it. I really like Annie Proulx for the same reason, her beautiful use of language. I’ve been re-reading Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning right now; it’s been a good book for this time.
What’s your favorite mistake?
I know when I fuck up a lyric or a chord when I’m playing live; it’s always terrifying and the first time it happened I thought “this is over now.” I found, though, that it opens up a moment with the audience that is greater than I had planned and that moment when I get something wrong often brings us closer and creates a bond.
What are the elements of a great song?
I think a great song has the ability to tell a universal truth in an uncluttered picture.
How do you think you’ve evolved as a musician?
I hope what I’m working toward is being a better listener as a songwriter. With each song, the more I write the more I get hold of what interests me and that I want to say back to the world. I’ve evolved into having a voice.
Are there any kinds albums you want to make you haven’t yet made?
Absolutely. I want to do one with just voice and acoustic guitar. Maybe an album of symphonic Americana. I’d love to make a record with Darrell Scott or Mary Gauthier, or write songs with them.
That Kind of Girl—Track list
- “Nothing Good Can Come From This”
- “Come Pick Me Up”
- “Better Than This”
- “Three Days”
- “That Kind of Girl”
- “One Man’s Love”
- “Hymn for the Crossing”
- “In Chicago”
- “Trouble Looks Good on You”
- “Raincoat”
- “Strange Medicine”
- “I Don’t Know How to Stop Loving You”
