Shaking the Cage: A new interview with Steve Dawson
Canada’s premiere roots music producer Steve Dawson talks with Doug Heselgrave about dialing it down and going solo acoustic, cutting an album a week for five weeks with an all-star band, and packing it all up and moving down to Nashville.
Guitarist, singer, producer, arranger, band-mate, and label owner — there aren’t many aspects of musical creation that Steve Dawson hasn’t tried his hands at in the last 20 years, as he’s determinedly carved out a niche for himself on the Canadian artistic landscape. With a resume a mile long, production commitments to make records for a who’s who of North American roots music artists, and a road schedule that would kill a lesser man, you’d have though that Dawson wouldn’t have a free second to reflect and ponder his future. So, I was surprised when I met Steve at a café in East Vancouver last year and he told me that he was moving his family and his business down to Nashville. I knew that change was in the air – earlier in the year, Dawson was hatching plans to move to Toronto in order to take advantage of the generous tax breaks for musicians there, but when it all came down to it, it must not have been the move he had in mind. After all, if you’re going to uproot your life and your family anyway, why not really go for it and pursue a life-long dream? So, last summer, a bunch of Steve’s friends and I helped him pack up his studio in preparation for his move south of the border.
Nearly a year later, Dawson has settled in Nashville where he is as busy as he ever was in Vancouver. He’s set up a new “Black Hen” studio on his property just outside of town, released several new CDs – including St. Louis Times by Jim Byrnes and See the Sky about to Rain by the incredible Colleen Rennison – and toured relentlessly behind Rattlesnake Cage, a solo acoustic album that is receiving the best notices of Dawson’s career.
I caught up with Steve after a sold out show in Vancouver this spring, to find out how life is treating him south of the border.
Doug Heselgrave: I remember last summer we were talking and you were telling me about this insane idea you had about your plan to record five albums in a week. I remember feeling exhausted just hearing about it. But, that’s how albums used to be recorded back in the day, and when you’re paying musicians, time is money. I’m guessing that it wasn’t just being thrifty that you had in mind when you came up with this idea. What appeals to you about working like this? Other than the obvious time and money you save by not spending months in the studio, what are the artistic benefits of recording in this real old-school way?
Steve Dawson: I like to work relatively quickly, and I always like to surround myself with the best crew I can find and afford. It makes the whole process work really well, and ideas start to flow around the room. Working like this was a great experience and gave us a taste of how a sound can really develop when you come into the same space and work with the same people every day. I think we made a lot of good music and we came up with five albums in total. Everyone had their own little station and we would bang out two or three tunes a day. I put little Robert Crumb drawings of blues guys at each station. Barbecue Bob, Skip James, stuff like that. It wasn’t to make people play blues-ier or anything, but it was to remind everyone to play with honesty and integrity. It helps to have Barbecue Bob staring you down if you start trying to be too fancy.
That’s such a great idea, and I love those old Crumb drawings of the blues masters! Did you ever forget that you were there to make an album or five albums? I mean, the session sounded like so much fun, it might have been easy to get lost. Did you run a pretty tight ship to make it all happen?
It’s not a dictatorship at all, but at the same time I like to remain in charge. Van Dyke Parks told me that it’s important to understand that making music isn’t a democratic process, and I know what he means… at the end of the day someone has to steer the ship in a certain direction and everyone has to buy into that concept. Here in Nashville, three songs a day, like we recorded, would be considered slow; but in Vancouver, we felt like it was very efficient. It was a good amount of time to be creative, but by eliminating the setup time for each album, we could move quickly. We were a lean, mean machine by the end of the sessions. Three days after the last one was over, I had to pack the studio up and move out! That was sad.
Obviously, you didn’t record Rattlesnake Cage, your new solo acoustic album at with all those musicians. But, with all that talent available, did you manage to sneak any new songs of your own into that session?
We actually made a record for me at the same time, but we haven’t touched it since we did it. Hopefully, at some other time, that will see the light of day.
You had your mind set on an album featuring solo acoustic guitar as opposed to a solo album like Nightshade, which features material you created, but was recorded with a band. How did you decide that this was what you wanted to try next?
For the past couple of years, I’ve peppered my show with little instrumental pieces, so I had started to gather a few solo pieces but not enough for an album. With a band, the songs have to be front and centre and, with a solo thing, the song changes. I wanted for there to be melodies and all of the elements of a song. But, all of the things you have to worry about dynamics-wise with a band – arrangements, timing and all of the things that are important when you’re playing with other people — aren’t a factor when you make a record by yourself. It’s a totally different experience. I really wanted to dial it back and get back to something simpler. It fit in with what was going on in my life. I was trying to get uncluttered and get ready to move to Nashville, so it was a weird time to make an album anyway. But, because I didn’t know when or even where we’d be moving when I started on this, there was no specific pressure. When it comes down to it, I’ve always wanted to do a record like Rattlesnake Cage. I tried around ten years ago, but things didn’t work out.
When you’re doing a group album, you can bounce ideas off of other people. When you’re writing solo stuff, how do you workshop it? Do you play the songs for people and get feedback or do you just trust your intuition?
No, I’m really private about things like that. I keep things to myself. I did the whole album without any input from anyone. I didn’t discuss it at all. I didn’t want feedback. It was a portrait of a certain time and place. I had no idea what people would think. It was kind of stressful when I first put it out because you totally lose context with it. Actually, you’re the first person who heard it!
I had no idea. I feel privileged.
The thing with this record is that it wasn’t like a lot of other projects that I have to work on so much, that by the time it’s finished, I never want to hear it again. For this, I listened to four versions of each song, picked one and then mixed it. There wasn’t anything to mix. It was just a case of checking levels, so I wasn’t burnt out on the album when it came out. It sat for a while before it came out.
The reviews in the press have been very positive.
More than I ever could have hoped for.
What do you think is grabbing people so much about this one?
I don’t know. What do you think?
Well, what I like about it is that it sounds original, yet you can hear a lot of your influences in the songs. For example, there are cuts that resonate or remind me of Gary Davis or John Fahey, but they sound like conversations with their style rather than recreations of it.
Well, I definitely didn’t sit down with the intention of making something sound exactly like John Fahey, for example, but he informs the way I play the acoustic guitar, so it’s impossible not to hear it. What I liked about Fahey is the way he would take traditional sounds and mess with them, which is what I think I’m doing a generation later. On top of that, I’m messing around with his stuff, so there are layers of musical ideas there, I guess. There is one song that sounds like Mississippi John Hurt, but I do things that he wouldn’t have done because, melodically, they weren’t part of the time he was writing music. I like to twist things around.
Rattlesnake Cage isn’t the first solo acoustic album you’ve produced. I really like the work you did with Kelly Joe Phelps a few years ago on Brother Sinner and The Whale.
I was inspired by working with Kelly Joe Phelps on his album. We did that with two microphones, but 80% of the sound came from one. It made me realize that all the elements I like about music are right there in a solo scenario just as much as with a full band. Sonically, I am drawn to recordings from the 1930s to the ’70s far more than most modern music. For a solo recording, I’d say that pretty much everything I like was from blues or country guys in the ’30s up to Keith Jarrett in the ’70s, and then everything starts to sound too processed or weird to me. I wanted to honour that and just use one mic with no trickery.
I think you nailed it. It really was great to be reminded of how piercing and full the sound of a single guitar can be. Of course, I’m such a music geek, I loved listening to all the little melodies and feeling where they came from. There really are such great songs on Rattlesnake Cage. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of listening to it. And, I love what you did with the material on stage. You’re just back from two Canadian tours accompanied by Keith Lowe on bass. How was the response?
It was the most successful tour I’ve ever done, which was a relief. I was worried about it because I haven’t toured under my own name for a couple years and I also stopped using pickups or amplification. That was something I decided due to the nature of my album. I couldn’t make an album like that and then plug my guitar in on tour; it just didn’t feel right. Playing without a pickup is scary. Coming here, though, and seeing people like Tim O’Brien do it all the time, you just realize that acoustic instruments sound better with a single microphone, and that it can be done. It requires a listening audience though, rather than a bar where people are yapping all night. But that suits me fine, too.
It’s been a year of big changes for you. You moved to Nashville. It’s obviously the centre of country music and, with Jack White moving down there, there’s an exciting rock scene there, too. How has it been for you personally in terms of finding work and people to play music with?
It’s been a mixed bag. I’ve met a lot of people who are working a lot, but I don’t really mix with the people in the commercial country scene. I have so little interest in that genre. That’s where a lot of the “grindy” type of work is. If you’re good on a Telecaster, you can come to Nashville and bash out a living, but that’s a tough way to make a buck! There’s a lot of guys walking along Broadway in Nashville with guitars slung to their back looking for a gig – and usually they find one. [Hesitating] But, it’s not really a good choice musically to do that [laughs]. My whole interest in Nashville has to do with all the other interesting things that are going on there, and there are so many great musicians that are doing their own thing. You don’t have to be part of the commercial scene to work or find interesting music to play. Jack White has changed the face of things a lot. He’s become a real presence in that city. His store, studio, label and venue – kind of an Opry-type place – really have changed things. He’s very present and makes himself available. His venue is going to be hosting a part of the Americana awards this year.
Tell me about setting up the new Black Hen studio you’ve just set up in Nashville. It must’ve been a challenge. You were new in town.
Well, it’s been an interesting process. I had a bit of experience with studio building because I did it for the Henhouse in Vancouver. We built that one from the ground up in 2006-07. There was no one around, aside form the really high-end guys who had any experience with what I wanted, so I did a ton of research and found a friend who could implement what I wanted. I learned a lot from that, so I have some idea of what makes a room tick and about soundproofing and sound treatment.
When I came to Nashville though, it’s a whole different story. It seems like every builder there has experience building recording studios. The funny thing is that you’re not supposed to even build “home studios” in Nashville, but it’s like basement suites in Vancouver – everyone has one. So I just had to talk to a bunch of guys and found someone I liked who understood what I was looking for. We have a house with a separate garage, and room for a guest or two to sleep, so it’s perfect. I had to make the garage part into the recording room. I took what I had learned from before and got a lot of interesting ideas and advice from the guy I found here, and ended up with something that I think will do me for a long time. It’s really simple — just a big open room with a little bit of isolation for amps, but not much. The control room is upstairs, which is a little weird, but that had to happen out of necessity. They were wiring and putting in the walls at midnight the night before the first session, so it was down to the wire. Nothing new there… everything went a little over time and over budget. Now I have a great room and a place to work, so I can pay the thing off! We have made two albums in there over the last couple of weeks, and it actually sounds amazing — a great mix of ambience and enough isolation to be manageable, but keeping all the players in the room together, which is integral to how I like to work.
And, I think that’s what makes your sound so unique and appealing. I’m hearing more people do it these days. I think Mary Gauthier took a page from your book with her new album. It sounds great – all recorded live with all the players in the room. What you’re doing is the perfect backlash to all of these clinically “perfect” records we’re hearing these days.
I’m not really interested in making music any other way.
I hope you never are. Thanks a lot, Steve!
My pleasure. Look us up in Nashville if you ever come down!
This posting also appears at www.restlessandreal.blogspot.com
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