A Conversation with Johnsmith (continued)

JS: I mean, some guys are into fishing. Greg Brown, I mean, he uses that metaphor like nobody's business, to mean deeper stuff in life. Anyway...

PM: Yeah, I thought it interesting in an interview I did with Greg Brown one time, he said, "I think that people go overboard on lyrics. They ought to think more about the music, about the groove. They shouldn't concentrate too much on the lyrics."

JS: Well, that's what this new record is for me. I mean, lyrics will always be important to me, but as you listen to the record, it's a lot more stripped down lyrically than--it's more to the point, and the music is carrying it a lot more than it used to be. And I'm coming into my own singing more. My singing just feels better all the time, and less is more, less is more. Because your voice and your soul do the same thing.

But yeah, there's a maturity that I know I'm coming into, just being more at peace about the talents you've been given, and the ones that you've polished, so to speak, the craft of the songwriting, but mostly, like you say, the voice that truly reflects your heart and soul kind of work that you do, and putting it out there a little softer, and let people come to it instead of banging them over the head with it.

PM: And that all being the spiritual and the evolutional side of the coin, I'm interested also in the fiscal side of the coin, how you, unlike many that we've known, have been able to carve a good living out of this singer/songwriter-dom. What do you think you may be doing differently than some people, or what is it that you're doing, do you think, that has made your way work?

JS: Well, not to just make this goal of--what's the word I'm looking for--this one-sided goal of a hit record in Nashville, or to be the hottest newest thing in the folk world buzz, to be the next Greg Brown, or the next David Wilcox--not to go there. Just be yourself, be true to the songs you're writing, be true to your soul, and that there's enough--more of an abundant place, there's enough work for everybody. I mean, the thing that got me into this business, really, was Greg Brown, now that I think about it. I'm also from Iowa, where Greg is from. And the first time I saw Greg I was living in my same little town, Toronto. And somebody called one night--and I'd heard of Greg, I think maybe on Garrison Keillor. He used to be on every week. He was like in the little band. And he was playing this little folky club called The Millroad Cafe about seven miles away in a very little town. And somebody comes over--like the gig is like at 8:00, and it's 7:30. "Greg Brown is playing at a place tonight, and we don't have a sound system. He was supposed to bring one." As if Greg Brown is going to travel around with--if you know Greg, hell, he's never going to have--

PM: Oh, sure, I got the sound system in my truck, yeah, right.

JS: And so I got some funky old PA. And I'm like, "Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes, man." I change my clothes, and I run over there, because it's a paying gig, I'm going to get like 50 bucks to do sound, the first time ever.

[laughter]

JS: So I go over and I set up the PA, and he just blew my doors off. And he had Randy Sabine, who's a great violin player. And I just absolutely loved it. And what I love is one guy being vulnerable in his total genuine self up there on the stage. And Greg is that. Whether you like him or not, the guy is not concerned about what anybody cares or thinks, he's himself. He's just genuine. So that's kind of been--man, if I have any guiding lights out there, or whatever, it's guys like him. That's been a big thing for me. But I've had a lot of demons to keep me from it, that I've worked on in the process, getting past my insecurities. Like Greg, you think Greg is original. He's incredibly original. But if you ever saw him with his dad before he passed away, the apple didn't fall far from the tree.

PM: Really?

JS: You ever hear that song "Billy from the Hills"?

PM: No, I don't think so.

JS: Oh, it's a great song of Greg's. One day I was at a festival, Greg's dad--I meet his dad. His dad goes up and does the introduction. They look like twins. He's got bib overalls, a big Amish beard, straw hat. He looks exactly like--it's like Greg is a carbon copy of his old man, who was this major hippie guy living in a school bus down in the Ozarks, or something.

PM: Really?

JS: He's a very cool cat. And there's a song called "Billy from the Hills." Go find it.

So anyway, I don't know why I strayed there. Anyway, for me, it's been a journey. It's really been a journey of being true to my own little light, I guess. I don't know if light is the right word, but you know what I mean?

PM: Oh, I think it's the right word.

JS: Just being me, I mean, just saying my things my way, and not letting my negative stuff be bigger than the positive. Owning the good stuff. Owning it. Hey, yeah, man, I can sing, I can show up. I can show up.

And I got some songs--I got one song on my Kickin' This Stone record, a simple little ditty I wrote--not really for my wife, I just started it on an anniversary. It's called "Iris Blue." And not a night goes by I don't sing that song, not a night. I play that song and I look out and somebody just kind of puts their hand and grabs their sweetie's hand. I mean, and the song basically just says, "It ain't all been roses, it ain't all been roses, but thank God love chose us." It's like even though we have our trials, underneath do I love you? I do. Because it gets a little confusing sometimes. I've been blessed with some simple things--and my best stuff is simple.

I remember you reviewed a record of mine years ago To the Four Directions. I had a song on there called "That's My Dad." Simple. And another song called "Down a Gravel Road," and "I Like the Way it Feels"--simple stuff. But I also have some energy. I do. I have my sense of groove, and that's the thing that some people like in my stuff.

[That's where the tape ends.]      continue to the update

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