Blue Rodeo — The Things We Left Behind Interviews, Part 2: Jim Cuddy

I told Greg [Keelor] already that I think the decision to make this a double album was the right one. It’s much more engaging this way, rather than having to sit through 80 solid minutes.
We felt that way too. We felt that once you get to the 50-minute mark, you’re kind of losing people’s interest a little bit, even if they’re good songs. Even for us working on it, it took away a lot of the fatigue of trying to construct one long sequence. It was such a better, easier fit. And of course it was fun because, since we were doing vinyl, we got to think of it as four different sides. That was the kind of thinking we hadn’t done in a long time. And it’s nice to think of little groupings like that – should this side be up, should it be contrasting. The whole process just seemed more absorbing to us this way.

Was there a point when you got the songs together initially that you thought this could be a double record?
I think that what we started with was this notion that when you make a CD now you also have to have some kind of value-added thing with it. So, what would that value-added thing be? Then that evolved into us saying, what we should do is two discs, one that could be like a “daytime” record, and one that could be a “nighttime” record with more moody pieces on it, or would be a bit more jammy. By the time we laid the songs out it seemed that idea would do a disservice to them, so we finally had to commit to doing a double record, with each disc being the traditional length of an album, 40 or 45 minutes. While we were at the point of deciding all of this, Thom Yorke made his big pronouncement that the album was dead, albums are boring, we’ll never participate in that again, and we’ll only be doing singles. That made us think there couldn’t be a better time then to make a double album. If Thom Yorke said that, then we’ve gotta do the opposite.

Clearly, Greg took advantage of that by stretching out with his songs…
That was great. I think sometimes we worry that if we have a lot of songs that we want to put on a record, we have to say, look Greg, this song’s ten minutes long, we’ve got to do something with it. We never had to think that way with this album. We allowed the songs to be whatever they were going to be. The fact that “Venus Rising” is ten minutes was never an issue; that was a good performance of that song and we should just go with it. So that was quite a relief to not have those restrictions.

At the same time, your solo career has been pretty consistent the last few years. You’ve been writing a lot, so did you write your material specifically for this album?
Of course I wrote specifically for this, but I’d written a lot of acoustic-based songs because I thought that was the kind of record we’d be doing. Then when I brought my songs in and heard what Greg had written, I suddenly wondered where I’d gotten that idea. I thought we’d discussed it or something, but that didn’t turn out to be the case. But then that allowed me to stretch out a little be too. I liked the fact that on Greg’s songs we were going to have to figure out the instrumentation. Like, the song “The Things We Left Behind” was in a very primitive state when we started. Greg wrote it on piano, and he doesn’t play piano, so we had this really bare bones song, and that was enjoyable to construct the instrumentation for that. To go back to the beginning, Greg and I got together last January and played our songs to each other, and it was sort of obvious at that point that we were going to put out a double record.

Having some new faces involved, especially on keyboards, obviously added some freshness to the sound too.
The leaving of our last keyboard player, Bob Packwood, was quite traumatic. It was really a bad fucking scene – right in the middle of a recording session – and it was just such a freak out. When we came to start doing this record we got someone to sub in for him, Mike Boguski, and also Steve O’Connor who was playing in my band. We did a lot of auditions and we got these two guys, but we were so traumatized by Packwood going so crazy that we didn’t want to choose. We used them both in some unusual ways for us, and it ended up becoming a really keyboard-centric record. There’s keyboards that are very central to a lot of the songs, which was a surprise to me because usually when somebody’s left, you end up de-emphasizing their instrument and compensating it with something else. But these guys were such good players and good guys. That was really nice too, being able to expand the palette with two keyboard players that had different strengths that we could interchange. And of course it was the first time that we’d ever worked with an outside singer so closely. Wayne Petti really became part of our choir when we were doing all the backgrounds, and that was fun too. It was another different way of looking at our songs.

As a segue to getting into the band’s history, I do really feel that this community has developed around you guys with The Sadies, Cuff The Duke, and the entire Dakota Tavern scene. Greg was a little modest about it, but do you feel that way?
Yeah, I do. There’s sort of two parts to that: When we started, we were certainly part of a scene and people tried to play with each other as much as possible. You realize early on that that’s a really good way to learn. If Handsome Ned wants you to do a song a certain way, then that’s a good way to learn how to be a musician. I think in the last 15 years or so, we’ve become very interested in having people not just open for us, but having them come on stage with us, and getting to know them. That was also one of the reasons why we created the studio. We wanted it to be a gathering place for people we knew to come and record. It’s a very good studio, and it can be very cheap for our friends. You know, Justin Rutledge records there, and The Sadies record there, Cuff The Duke does some stuff out at Greg’s place, and that all gives you the time and leisure to get to know each other musically and see what you can do together. Hearing Julie Fader play with Kate Boothman made us realize that Julie played flute, so we got her to do that on our record. So that was partly a decision we made years ago to build a network of people in Toronto we could call upon if we needed to, plus the fact that it’s a real pleasure to play with somebody else. You get a whole different perspective on what they do when you hear them do it right in front of you. So it’s really enjoyable, but it’s also become really useful too. I mean, we don’t want to repeat ourselves, and certainly with background vocals we know what we can do. So having Wayne there added a slightly different texture and that led to different ideas. The difference was refreshing, and Wayne’s just a great guy to work with.

Do you feel that in a weird way that helps maintain a consistency within the band, in terms of having something new on each record? Does that make sense?
Absolutely, I think that makes a lot of sense. You spend so much time making a record, and you don’t want to feel like it’s a carbon copy of what you’ve already done. And it’s the most rewarding when you actually feel like you’ve taken a step forward. Strictly in terms of background vocals, I think that with our last two records we’ve taken a big step forward. We use the background vocals as a separate instrument, as opposed to how we used to use it to simply reinforce the main vocal. We always knew we could do it, but sometimes with just the two of us, that limited our scope. We have a joke now that Wayne Petti is our love child – looks like Greg, sings like me. [Laughs] We’re certainly old enough to be his parents, but really, our sensibilities are very much the same.

That dynamic between you and Greg was established right away on the first album, and I’m curious if the success you had straight out of the gate really solidified your partnership?
I think the partnership was pretty strong before that because a lot of partnerships are forged in failure. We were actually quite happy doing what we’d been doing, even though we hadn’t had a lot of success and we’d been doing it since, well, ’78. We were in New York for three years, so really, Blue Rodeo couldn’t fill a club until after about seven years. And I think we’d always been comfortable with this idea of having two contrasting styles that were joined by harmonies, or instrumentation. I guess then beyond that, when we started making records, we fought to either break out of that mould of what we do, and sometimes we’d embrace some things we hadn’t done in a while. Five Days also established a different element to us that we used to do in the beginning – a little more countrified, a little more acoustic – but had really not gone on record until Five Days. At that point, the styles became pretty broad and we could pick and choose as we went. So I think with this record we’ve added some new things to the library of sounds that we use. I’ve always enjoyed working with the different instrumentation. I mean, I can’t say that flute is my favourite instrument, but it’s used nicely on this record, and the orchestration turned out really well. It’s just fun to fuck around, especially if you can make it work and maintain the style that you want to maintain.

I’ve always felt that you guys are at your best when you’re going out on a limb. When you look back at the overall catalogue, do those moments when you were breaking the mould really stand out for you?
Yeah, for sure. I know the records where we moved ahead, I know the records where we stayed still, and I know the records that even though they’re sort of experimental, they tested our faith in each other the most. We had this run from Outskirts to Lost Together that now kind of symbolizes the band we were – the band that played the Horseshoe, and wrote songs and played them like this. Then, all of a sudden we had to do something different, and not because we felt like we’d run out of ideas, we were just so fucking tired. Then when we made Five Days In July we also discovered that this could all be a lot more fun than we were letting it be. We were treating it too much like a factory, and not enough like, this is just making music, don’t make it like high drama, just enjoy it. When we made that record out at Greg’s it opened up a whole new set of possibilities to us. It should be an experience that somehow translates itself onto the record. We sort of ended up making the night and day version, because what came after was Nowhere To Here, which was a pretty tough record. I know it’s your favourite though, right?

Well, yeah. Greg didn’t hold back in saying it’s not one of yours.
It’s not really a question of it not being my favourite. I look at the records in a different way than everybody else. I remember the emotional toll of that record, and it was very high. I was really crushed at the end of making that record. I can’t listen to that record dispassionately because making that record was incredibly difficult. We couldn’t have been more disconnected. All kinds of shit was going on, and it seemed like it was time to start thinking about doing something else. I recognize that it’s interesting because of that, because we really were changing the mould a lot, and not falling back on anything. I also recognize that there’s a lot of emotional truth in it because of the things that were happening while we were making the record. I won’t hesitate to say either that because of all those things, the record that came after, Tremolo, was a completely treading-water record. We could not attempt anything difficult, because we weren’t even sure we could get along. Just the fact that we could make a record was good enough at the time. When I hear those songs now I realize they were underdeveloped, but that’s just what that album is. We were lucky that we could just do it. That’s not a high point for us, but surviving all that stuff allowed us to ramp up again. I think it’s very fortunate that we can make a record that’s creatively satisfying this far into our career. I mean, people always ask, ‘Where do you find all the stuff to write about?’ That’s just never a problem. I don’t know why, but it never is. The question instead is, how do we engage ourselves as a band, and I can’t say how that happens. This time was much different from Small Miracles, but engaging nonetheless. Greg and I spent six months in that studio, every goddamn day, and if on day 200 you’re still saying to each other, ‘That’s a great idea, let’s try that,’ then you’re doing something right. After 200 days of working on nearly anything else, I think I’d be ready to kill myself.

I guess it’s kind of ironic for me to hear you say that because the initial impression I got from the album was that it sounded pretty laid back. It’s got so much of that ‘70s California vibe about it.
I think that’s true. I think inevitably when you’re working so closely there comes a point when everyone is in opposition. Either we, as songwriters, are in opposition with the band, or people don’t like the mixes, but on this one none of that happened. I think that, as you say, that overlay of ‘70s sound was just where we knew we were going. Also, I can’t emphasize enough that having the luxury of doing a double record meant that we didn’t have to edit ourselves. We edited to try to make the songs strong, but we didn’t have to say, ‘We already have a long jammy song on it so we can’t have another.’ There was just a very natural flow to making the record right through to the end. I think it also helped that Greg had made the Cuff The Duke record, and had done such a nice job on it. That in some ways became a sonic reference point too. It seemed to make it easier for him to accomplish what he heard in his head. That translation can be really difficult.

Do you feel that working on projects outside of Blue Rodeo has been necessary for both of you?
I think that what’s necessary for us, especially at the age we’re at, is to be able to do whatever we want. I think that you have to be sensitive to the fact that it can challenging to the other members of the band, and I think Greg and I have to be sensitive to the fact that it can be challenging to our partnership. A lot of what we do solo is out of each other’s neighbourhoods and it doesn’t matter. If I play a show in Halifax, I don’t think that affects Greg. If I play a show at Massey Hall, I think that affects Greg. But allowing everyone in the band, and certainly Greg and I allowing each other to do work on our own is extremely necessary. We cannot work in tandem, in a group, in a partnership all the time. You have to at some points follow, from beginning to end, your own lead and initiative. You come back a much stronger collaborator, and I think very specifically Greg working in his studio on somebody else’s record was a great experience for him. When I heard that Cuff record I thought, okay, this is gonna be good; this is a great sounding record, it’s focused, and we can use this as a reference point. And it did work out that way.

You alluded to the natural lulls that occur in anyone’s career that’s lasted this long, but when Are You Ready marked the band’s 20th anniversary, did hitting that mark make you stand back and take a serious look at what you’d accomplished?
Yeah, I think it did. But I don’t think this band particularly enjoys the self-consciousness that comes with acknowledging themselves. For the 20th anniversary, I wandered around and tried to make a big deal of it. I think we made a big deal of it because it was there to make a big deal of, but I don’t think that was very natural for the band. And I think that record was a very spontaneous record. We worked very quickly, and in a lot of ways it was the antithesis of doing something in a way that would have made it clear that this band has been together for 20 years. I don’t think we neglected that record; I think that record was what it was supposed to be, but our goal was to capture performances and get the spark of the band and the energy of the band on tape. I’d describe the next one, Small Miracles, as a much more considered record, in which we allowed everyone in the band to have a hand in arrangements and instrumentation. Now, with this one, I think there’s a balance between those two ideas. It’s got the spontaneity and performances on it, and yet everyone was able to contribute as Greg and I guided the process.

I have to ask something about Blue Rodeo’s relationship with America, which seems kind of on again/off again. Did it come to a point where you just felt we can take it or leave it?
I think we’ve had to think like that. [Laughs] I think we’ve felt that this band was forged on completely Canadian sensibilities. When we started, everybody was embracing the fact that we had two singers. Some people leaned more toward Greg’s stuff, some more towards mine. We had radio covered, we had clubs covered, we had this whole thing covered, and because of the success we had in Canada we just assumed the same thing would happen in the States. Gradually we discovered, boy, they really think differently down here. They do not like the fact that there are two, sometimes divergent, voices, and that sort of brought us up against the very idea of the band. I think we were lucky that we always had so much to do in Canada that it kept us believing that we were doing the right things, and not worried as much about how we were being perceived in the States. It’s like, if for our first U.S. TV appearance someone would have told us to put Greg a little more out front of the rest of the band, I think that shift would have started to happen. It’s a big machine down there, and in order to be noticed, I think, somebody has to be able to digest what you are in an instant. That’s something that’s just not possible with us. So, we’ve always kept going down and doing stuff, but it never got to the point where we were frustrated or thinking, ‘Oh God, why can’t we be bigger in Cleveland?’ We certainly watched other people, like Sarah McLachlan, ascend, and thought, wouldn’t it be nice to be able to play a really nice theatre in Columbus. But, it’s not worth what we would have had to give up. I don’t think we were ever put in that position consciously, but we knew that it was possible. The difference is that what we’ve done has always been embraced and encouraged by Canadian audiences, and British audiences, and Scandinavian audiences. You can tell when we go somewhere, like Australia, when people just don’t get it. They felt that we were a country band that didn’t act enough like a country band. It was like we were speaking a slightly different language, and that’s the death of your band. It’s better to stay where you’re understood. I think it’s been good for us. There’s been so many advantages to having a career just in Canada that we really enjoy. I mean, we absolutely enjoy all the places we’ve been to in Canada, and I don’t think the same thing can be said about the United States. I don’t think that’s just because everybody loves us up here and they don’t love us down there. I think it’s just the actual experience of going from town to town down there hasn’t been as nourishing for us. I think we have what we deserve, or what we want. We’ve always gravitated toward where we were understood, and that’s always been the most rewarding experience. I’d rather go to Tuktoyaktuk than go to Cleveland. That’s not to say I don’t like Cleveland, but going to Tuktoyaktuk was a phenomenal experience. So in that sense we’ve been fortunate. And really, it’s not like we’ve ever lacked for things to do. It’s actually harder to take time off than to drum up things. It’s a big country and we have a lot of culture here.

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