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Heed Not the Ominous Signs: 9 Questions With The Mallett Brothers Band

Photo credit: Bethany Hayes-Chute

Photo credit: Bethany Hayes-Chute

By Daniel Ford

I hadn’t heard of The Mallett Brothers Band before author Brian Panowich tagged me in a tweet during his “Blue Collar Book Tour.”

After devouring the band’s oeuvre for days on end, I stalked them until one of the band members graciously agreed to an interview.

Will Mallett talked to me recently about the band’s Maine roots, how it developed its distinctive sound, and the inspiration behind its 2015 release, “Lights Along The River.”

Daniel Ford: Give me a little history of the band. What brought everyone together?

Will Mallett: We got together in 2009 in Portland, Maine. My brother Luke and a few of the guys had been in a band together that had just wrapped up, and I moved down from the home town up north to get a foot into whatever the next project would be. We knew we wanted to start with acoustic guitars and some instruments with an old fashioned country sound; Nick Leen our bass player and spiritual guide recruited the personnel he thought would have some good fun together and we went from there. There have been some changes in the lineup and the sound over the years but overall it’s been a pretty steady charge.

DF: How much does being based in Maine influence your music? Do you think you’d have the same sound if you were based somewhere else?

WM: Maine doesn’t necessarily have a definitive sound attached to it and I think that can be a good thing in terms of shedding requirements or expectations. There have been some amazing rock acts out of Maine, some amazing folk and indie acts, some amazing country, jazz acts. But there’s no real strong genre attachment like you need to be a country act to get anything happening here, or a rap act, or a rock act or a DJ or whatever. Your chances are about equally…dismal/hopeful. The winters can also be a little bleak around here and I think that that dark and cold can creep into any of the music that comes out of a colder climate. But Maine is a unique place, sort of a frontier state with huge unsettled areas in addition to the ocean, the Appalachian Mountains, a rich and varied musical tradition, a little more French influence than the rest of New England, gargantuan income disparity, drug problems, moose, etc. We would no doubt sound completely different if we came from anywhere else.

DF: Your website claims your style “spans across country, rock and roll, Americana and ‘alt-country’ genres.” How did you develop that sound and who were some of your musical influences?

WM: When we first got together the goal was to maybe get a gig or two and make a record if we got real lucky, so we didn’t set out with a goal in mind in terms of fitting into a radio format or a genre or anything like that. To get to the point where that would have been required might have been a little far-fetched. So it was really just a default thing, with somebody or a couple guys bringing a song to the table, and seeing where the group took it. We came from a lot of different musical backgrounds so you had something like a folk song getting a punk rock drumbeat with psychedelic guitar sounds and country style harmony vocals. A lot of fun. Right now we’re basically a rock band with country influences, but the acts we most closely identify with are for whatever reason put into those categories, so we sort of identify with the Americana and alt-country genres to make it easier for people who might dig our stuff to find us.

Our influences are definitely all over the map. The first music I remember hearing would have been Gordon Lightfoot, Creedence, Bob Dylan, and such, but I was born in 1984; Brian (Higgins/drummer) was touring the country with a heavy metal band at that time and Wally (Wenzell/guitar) was living in London hanging out at punk rock clubs around that era. So you get all of that mixed together and a bunch more and it’s a pretty eclectic stew.

DF: You’ve played with acts such as The Josh Abbot Band, Blackberry Smoke, Charlie Robison, the Turnpike Troubadours, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Charlie Daniels, and .38 Special. What did you learn about your own music from touring with these musicians?

WM: It’s great to see the power of a good old-fashioned rock show and the energy an audience can bring to the table, and that’s a very inspirational thing. .38 Special was off the hook, and nice guys. Keeps you aware of the need to bring the heat and to be a cooler dude. But we’ve been pretty honored to get some great gigs, and they’ve definitely provided a lot of motivation to keep traveling the road we’re traveling. And the more you play with other bands that tour a lot, whether younger up and coming bands or old road dogs, it does tend to demythologize the whole rock and roll thing and reminds you that it’s still possible to be a touring band and make it happen.

DF: What’s your songwriting process? How does each member of the band contribute to any given song?

WM: They’re all different but the bulk of our tunes were written by one or two of us with a real basic idea of the direction it would take, and then brought to the band and exploded into whichever direction the wind was blowing on a particular day. Nick and Brian, our bass player and drummer, have a pretty unique aggressive sound between the two of them, and Wally has a distinct style of dobro and guitar, so most of our tunes end up having a pretty distinct Mallett Brothers Band flavor by the time they’re all worked out.

DF: What was the inspiration for the songs on your latest album “Lights Along the River?”

WM: That one came out about two years after our previous record, so a bunch of those songs had been hanging around for a little while. A lot of them were skeletons and we filled them out up on the lake where we recorded in Piscataquis County, Maine. It was October in an old lake lodge accessible only by boat, so we tried to capture that combination of beauty and emptiness and I think that comes through in most of the tunes. The metaphor of the title track, with this image of a character beat to hell and hanging on for dear life, and then seeing signs of hope in the distance, seemed appropriate for the general vibe of the record.

DF: If you had to pick one of your songs that defined the band forever, which one would you choose and why?

WM: For me it would probably be “Low Down” at this point, just because that one seems to have caught hold in a few pockets up in rural Maine in its own little way and that just means a hell of a lot.

DF: What advice would you give to up-and-coming musicians?

WM: Keep some Schopenhauer in your back pocket, heed not the ominous signs, make records and hit the road; eat rice and beans; spend your money on strings and gas; keep in mind the small chance that somebody out there might just need to hear that shit right now, or that a simple turn of a phrase could make somebody’s whole damn day. And cheaper beer = better gear.

DF: Can you please name one random fact about the band?

WM: Bands love pizza, and we love pizza.

To learn more about the Mallett Brothers Band, visit the band’s official website, follow its Facebook page, or follow @MallettBrosBand on Twitter.

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Sweet Awkwardness: Musician Matt Pond On Songwriting, Literature, and Rock ‘n’ Roll

Matt Pond (Photo credit: Derek Cascio)

Matt Pond (Photo credit: Derek Cascio)

By Daniel Ford

There’s a song titled “Take Me With You” on Matt Pond PA’s recent album “State of Gold” that has begun to haunt my writing playlist. The driving, angsty beat boils over each time the band’s front man, Matt Pond, exclaims, “It feels good to be gone.”

You don’t have to tell a creative person much more than “take me with you” with that kind of vibe.

Pond graciously talked to me before the start of his upcoming tour about songwriting, literature, and his love of rock ‘n’ roll. (Bonus points were awarded for his bourbon selection and his discussion of Neil Young’s “A Man Needs A Maid.”)

Daniel Ford: First things first: What’s your favorite bourbon and how do you drink it (on the rocks, neat, one ice cube, etc.)?

Matt Pond: I once had a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle in Bed-Stuy that was mind-blowing. I didn’t almost take it all in until it was done, until days had passed and the experience and the taste still stuck with me.

So I can’t tell you the age or the batch. But I can tell you that it was the stuff of dreams.

Recently we had a house party record release show. It was intense, with all these semi-strangers coming to my place to see me play. Almost everyone brought a gift—a bottle of Eagle Rare really got to me and since then, that’s been my go-to.

I enjoy bourbon any way it’s served. In the summer, ice. In the winter, neat. A cocktail or two in the fall and spring. (Reverse all these seasons and restrictions and I’ll probably be fine.)

I have no hifalutin pretenses with any of this baloney. If someone serves me a Miller High Life, I will drink a Miller High Life. As much as I want to cultivate my senses, respect for my guests or hosts soar above the needs of my palate.

DF: When did you first realize you wanted to be a musician and who were some of the artists that influenced you early on?

MP: I still haven’t totally realized that I want to be a musician. There isn’t a morning that I wake up and wonder what the hell I’m doing with my life.

The day I moved to New York was when it seemed like a reality. I knew no one, I was girlfriend-less. My only purpose and point was to finish our album “Emblems.”

The people that I look up to were so over my head that it’s hard to think of them as human. So they’re influences, yes. They also make me and my life look minuscule from on high. John Lennon, Jeff Lynne, Joni Mitchell, Elvis Costello, Neil Young, Bob Dylan. These were, and still are, my heroes.

DF: How would you define your sound? How did you go about developing it?

MP: My sound originates from my love of rock ‘n’ roll combined with a similar love of classical music. When those two lines of thought met inside Jeff Lynne, I was awestruck.

I can’t even approximate his production or his talent or songs. But I can shoot in the general direction and hope for the best.

I like layers. I like finding more within every listen. When music is truly great, it blocks out the rest of the world and creates a three-dimensional feeling inside me.

It’s orchestration and arrangement that speak to me. The interplay between what’s being said and what’s not being said. That’s when I’m floored.

DF: I’ve heard from a reliable source that you’re a big reader. Your lyrics, as well as your superbly written blog posts, have a real literary quality to them. How has your love of reading and literature shaped your music?

MP: I honestly appreciate the complimentary portion of your paragraph. Thank you.

I don’t know, I think repetition is actually the key. With both writing and even reading. (My figurative forehead suffers greatly from the repeated symbolic blows.)

It requires focus, time, and energy. Which all happen to be my weakest attributes. So for me, this whole life is like coming from behind. Perhaps something close to the main character in the terrible movie “Meatballs?” Or maybe like Walker Percy’s Binx Bolling?

I’m trying. That’s all I can gasp and grasp.

As far as literature and how it relates to my music, I think that I think about it too much sometimes. Because it’s not only the word choices, it’s meaning and larger metaphorical meanings—but it’s the sound of the word itself. The word has to sound right to me as a guttural iteration.

I apologize if I’m coming off slightly mad. All these processes are thrown out the window when a better idea comes along and sits in your lap.

DF: Being a literary website, we’re always looking for worthy additions to our bookshelf. What are some of the books currently cluttering your nightstand?

MP: I’m wrapping up Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel, which I loved. Stories woven into stories, she has the ability to go from the seemingly mundane to full-on fantastical action in a short breath.

Kingston: City On The Hudson by Alf Evers is next. It’s history wrapped in anecdotes.

I love my new town. I believe in the short time I’ve been here, I’ve become a better person. I’d like to repay the favor by knowing what’s what.

DF: There’s real honesty in your lyrics that is sorely lacking in today’s music scene. What were some of the themes you wanted to explore with the group of songs that make up your new album, “State of Gold?”

MP: After months of the listlessness of trying to live in Oakland, I reacquainted myself with Chris and upstate New York.

The album began composing itself by hurdling a huge case of writer’s block and how that miniature triumph spread like a fracture through the rest of my life.

The general theme digs deep and hard into the idea that everything great is found through loss. “A Second Lasts A Second” is where I boil that idea down to the core. Because if there’s only one second of greatness, then I’ll take it.

I’m constantly trying to convince myself that I’m valuable to myself. Strangely, I do it through singing songs. Like a constant rock ‘n’ roll lullaby.

Once music is recorded and released, it’s about relation and distance. This whole operation is supposed convince the listener that we’re valuable to one another. Maybe I understand you. And maybe you understand me.

DF: “Don't Look Down” features a lyric that I’ve fallen in love with: “You showed me how sleepless dreamers come together.” Sums up so much about life, love, and the creative process. Was your writing process any different with this album and how do you summon the muse during those sleepless dreams?

MP: I’ve actually written music in my sleep and woken up singing it. A part of the song “New Hampshire” came to me that way. (It is vital to have recording devices, guitars and pens and paper wherever you rest your head. Songs are sneaky, there’s no direct way to the answer or ending. You just have to keep unwrapping unraveling it all with your mind. Because it’s “there”—it just needs a little cognitive archaeological love.)

Songs are so elusive and so easy. I’m glad that they come at crazy times. They almost seem like animals unto themselves.

DF: There’s a line in your first blog post that was published in May that I think a lot of creative types can relate to: “My problem hasn't been about desire or gumption—it's always been about the platform.” Is it harder to connect to an audience with so many different channels available or has it given you more exposure to fans that you might not have found otherwise?

MP: I honestly like the communication when it can happen on the open plane. I’ve now embraced all the conventional manners of media in which I can stay true to my voice and my thoughts.

Still. I do bite my virtual tongue a few times a day. Criticism, derogations are everywhere and it’s not always easy to navigate.

The negatives are that there are some diminished ethics on the Web. There’s a separation and an invisibility that almost encourages evil. I wish there were a way of upping the ante on the way we virtually treat one another.

Perhaps worse in it’s small, simple way. It’s hard to be lost in a moment when you’re looking at a phone or screen.

All I’m looking for in this lifetime is to be happily lost.

DF: Your upcoming tour starts in Lancaster, Pa. on Sept. 17. What can your fans expect (besides “sipping whiskey in the early autumn and singing together in an unfamiliar host's house”)?

MP: There’s a sweet awkwardness to playing in someone’s home.

Let me clear, I’m a fan of sweet awkwardness. It’s a condition that runs parallel to honesty. Chris and I’ll be playing as a duo, trying to interpret our songs in a way that works best in your home.

Surprisingly, we bring a lot of amps. But they’re all at a low, low volume. Think of the quietest, heavy show you’ve ever seen. That’s us.

DF: What advice would you give to up-and-coming musicians?

MP: This is work. And it never stops. You have to be both humble and believe in yourself and your songs more than anything.

That balance is mostly beyond me. Maybe sometimes I’ll see it peaking in the window and run outside to chase it down. I’ll never give up on trying.

For me, there are questions about how to move forward. I’m not sure if I’m going to submit to the classic tour-release-tour grind anymore. It’s rough.

DF: Normally we ask our guests for a random fact, but musicians get special treatment. If you had to pick one of your songs that defined you forever, which one would it be and why?

MP: Okay, so I initially read this as what song would you want to define you forever. And of course, I chose someone else. But both answers follow:

From my music, I’d probably pick “New Hampshire.”

I’d moved New York to Philly. I didn’t know a soul. I would wake up in the middle of night, missing everyone and everything I knew. I slept with my acoustic guitar in between bursts of writing.

“New Hampshire” is about when I first left the state and the simultaneous breakup with my high school girlfriend. We were a horrible match. We fought over every single breath. But in between the battles, we used to babysit for a couple who had bona fide mafia friends. They once told me that they liked how I knew when not to speak. That’s one of the only compliments that actually made me proud.

Can I also pick “Bring On The Ending,” which was composed at the same time?

At first, the move to New York seemed like a terrible idea. Philly’s geographically close. But they couldn’t be more different. The high energy and style of the city made me embarrassed to be in my own skin.

At a certain point while writing the song, I realized that I was supposed to love and accept my own stupidity. “Don’t get caught dancing, even if you’re drinking.”

I mean if you love me, I always want to get caught dancing and drinking. Please and thank you.

But I honestly prefer the songs of those outside my mind. Neil Young seldom goes the wrong way. “A Man Needs Maid” moves me massively.

“My life is changing in so many ways/I don’t know who to trust anymore/There’s a shadow running through my days/Like a beggar going from door to door.”

People may talk and balk at my response. I can take it.

Some will always interpret “A Man Needs Maid” as sexist. I don’t. In fact, I believe it’s the complete opposite. The song exposes loneliness and helplessness in such a strange and beautiful way—a subjugated maid isn’t what he seeks, he’s just looking for a way to survive himself.

I love how the metaphor is divisive because it allows people to see what they want to see. Even so, the orchestration and arc of the song are undeniable.

I feel like I’m always my worst enemy. While I’ve written and performed songs I love, I’ve push myself into a frenzy over this lifetime. My next pursuit should find me making whiskey and serving food in an equitably based establishment.

I need to find a balance. That could come from loosening my grip on reins. I love it when I give myself a break. 

To learn more about Matt Pond, visit his official website, like his Facebook page, or follow him on Twitter @mattpondpa.

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Just Play: 8 Questions With Singer/Songwriter Frank Turner

Frank Turner

Frank Turner

By Daniel Ford

If these aren't the perfect lyrics to sum up a 20-something writer/creative type in New York City, then I don’t know what are:

“Just give me one fine day of plain sailing weather/And I can fuck up anything, anything”

English singer/songwriter Frank Turner’s music is honest and personal—two qualities sorely lacking in today’s music scene.

Turner recently answered some of my questions about life on the road, his early influences, and how he is always striving to get better.

Daniel Ford: When did you first realize you wanted to be a singer/songwriter?

Frank Turner: Interesting question. Being a singer/songwriter, strictly speaking was never really something I thought about growing up. I wanted to be (and was) in a punk band. I guess when the wheels started falling off Million Dead, I had a little time to consider what it was I wanted to do afterwards. At the time, I didn't want to be reliant on other people as I was feeling quite let down by what had happened with the band, so doing things on my own made the most sense to me.

DF: Who were some of your earliest musical influences?

FT: As a kid, I was initially into Iron Maiden, Metallica, AC/DC, and stuff like that. Then, Nirvana hit me like a train, and pushed me toward punk stuff like Descendents, Black Flag, NOFX, and so on.

DF: How would you define your sound? How did you go about developing it?

FT: I don't spend time trying to define my sound, I just play. I don't really think about developing it, other than trying to be better at what I do.

DF: What’s your writing process like? Do you start with the music or lyrics? Do you prefer writing early in the day or late at night? Do you listen to music while you…write songs?

FT: I don't have a set process as such, other than the fact that I write on the road. Sometimes it's words first, sometimes music, and the best is when the two of them arrive at the same time. I don't listen to music as I write (wouldn't work!), but I do listen to a lot of music and I try to figure out songs I like, how they're constructed and so on.

DF: A good friend of mine demanded I listen to “The Way I Tend To Be” and it’s been on my writing playlist ever since. What went into writing and producing the album “Tape Deck Heart” and was the process any different than your previous albums?

FT: “Tape Deck Heart” ended up being an album about a breakup. I don't really sit around and plan what to write before, you know, writing it; I like to let stuff arrive in the manner of its own choosing. But I was going through some shitty stuff in my personal life and it naturally found an outlet in my songwriting. I wanted to write like I was totally unknown and no one would ever hear the songs. I think a lot of writers, at this stage in their career, get into second-guessing themselves, or trying to write to please various audiences, and I think that's kind of bogus, so I was trying to shut all of that out.

DF: What are the best and worst parts about touring? What are some of the more memorable moments you’ve had on tour?

FT: The best part is making the most of life, traveling, and playing music for a living. The worst parts are the toll it takes on your health, sanity, and personal life. It's not an easy way to be, in the long run. I've been touring pretty much full time for almost half my life, so it's hard to pick particular moments out.

DF: If you had to pick one of your songs that defined you forever, which one would you choose and why?

FT: It's not really for me to choose, I'd say; but I guess something like "If Ever I Stray" would be cool.

DF: What’s next for you? What’s on your bucket list for things you want to accomplish as an artist?

FT: Working on a new album, releasing the “Mongol Horde” (side project) album, festival season, stuff like that. There are plenty of things left on my bucket list; mainly songwriting-wise, I want to get better.

To hear more from Frank Turner, visit his official website, like his Facebook page, or follow him on Twitter @frankturner.

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